Evening Star Newspaper, January 19, 1930, Page 83

— Men Are Always to Blame The Sister-in- Law Was White Hot About Art, but When a Tame Bear Turned Her Pageant Into a Panic Bill Ballou and His Bow and Arrow Got the Credit. T'S a little thing generally, that starts the biggest catastrophes in this world. Look at what Mrs. Murphy's cow did to Chicago once—burnt it like a bride’s first wafle. And some Puritan Papas threw a lot of tea overboard and started the Revolution, one of our best wars. That's what I feel about Bill Ballou’s invi- tation to try archery. This bow and arrow picnic looked like such a silly little thing and the end was the hysterics of 10,000 people and the complete wreck of one of the biggest pieces of municipal art ever brewed. If we hadn't shot those darned arrows—— Well, anyway, Bill asked me to go out in the woods with him one Sunday morn and he'd teach me one of the noblest pastimes of man— archery. “Meet me at 9 a.m. sharp—with your car. It's bigger than mine and there’s more trappings to this sport than to a medieval skull- cracking bout. I'll have the light of my iife pack us a real lunch—men’s sandwiches with the bread between the meat instead of outside. See you tomorrow.” But when I got home later it became hot so simple. “See here,” says Love's Dream. “Why should I stay here all alone Sunday while you're away, digging up a 10-acre lot with a high- priced Scotch pitchfork?” “Hold everything, my little blond honey car- amel. This isn’t golf at all. I'm going arching with Bill Ballou. Archery—Indian stuff—the spirit of William Tell and so on.” The picture changed. “Archery!” she says, smiling sweetly. “How lovely! I see where the Duchess of Thropfordshire won a silver thinz- amajig some place in England. Archery is quite the thing. I'm crazy to learn it. Of course Bill is taking Jane and I can sidestep church for once. I'll telephone Jane right away.” Bam! How soon a woman can change a picnic to a panic! In five minutes the simple little party was suffering from complications. THE Ballou clan is all set for the getaway Sunday morning, like a line of whippets waiting for the gun. Out in the driveway, Bill has a collection like the first of May. He has everything from a bass fiddle looking thing in a bag to a lot of funny leather tubes. “The covered wagon is what we need,” 1 said, after looking over the bulk. “This six- cylinder boiler would be only a partial help.” “It’ll be a cinch,” he says. “And oh, I forgot to tell you. We're going to ring in a guest on you. My wife's sister blew in yesterday and she’'s wild to go. She’s been concocting a pageant or something and it's got her all worn thin, so a day in the sweet calm of the dear woods will get her in tune again—so she telis me.” And just then Jane Ballou and her sister came out. The sister is one of those pulsing vibrating wrens, all white hot about life and art and things. He introduced her as Maurine Eustis. “Oh, I think it is all too amusing,” she said. “When dear William proposed it, I could have hugged him. For six weeks my art has en- slaved me—nerve-wrecking weeks. Something in me seemed to be calling out—and I know now it was the call from the outside answer- ing.” “That’s the yelp of the world, Miss Eustis,” I said. “I feel it myself. Every Fall I gotta go smelt fishing or I get the jaundice.” Bill might have picked out a place for our stunt that looked more dimly religious, but then he thought the layout was for plain archery « THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C, JANUARY 19, 1930. and not cathedrals. It would have been a good pasture if cows fed on rocks. Miss Eustis took a few snootfuls of air. “Glorious world—green calm below, blue quiet- ness above.’ I am born anew. Your horizon seems purple heather.” “That’s the new gas-house over the trees,” I said. “It's the color of a million bricks when you get a close-up.” Bill set up a big whirlgig looking thing and paced off 50 feet. “Now watch papa shoot. Observe the old technique.” Zing! That arrow whanged the center of the target like a stenog dots an i. “Now,” says Bill, “I'm going to do it again— and watch me. Papa will show the little pupils just how it should be done. Watch closely— doing it to slow movies—left arm out stiff and straight—two fingers of the right hand strad- dling the arrow—right arm slowly back— slowly——" “EUREKA!" shrieked Miss Eustis—and the arrow jumped like a scared flivver. It would have taken an ad in the lost column to find it. Bill was white and as surprised as a boy getting his first licking. “An idea has come to me!” panted Miss Eustis. “A beautiful idea. They come from heaven at times——" “It's an even swap then, because that's where that arrow just left for,” I says. But the lady was all tangled up in her new idea. “I've had a dry spot in the first scene of my pageant. You know, I'm doing the pageant for the ‘Two Hundredth Anniversary of Gren- ford’—you know the town of Grenford about 20 miles from your home. The pageant opens with the early settlers of old Grenford offering prayer in a clearing. But, my friends, there were others there before the Dutch founders. Others! Others!” “All right. If it’s an Ask Me Another, I'll bite. What others?” I said. “Indians!” whispered Miss Eustis. “I must have Indians for my opening scene. I must! The Indians were most epic in the act of shoot- ing with the bow and arrow! I can see it all— the dark mysterious forest. Come two Indian braves—Potomis and Metakonet—with their bows and arrows. They are stalking game——" Then she jumps up and points her finger at Bill, who is beginning to act like a neurotic, and cries, “And yeu are to be Potomis!"” Well, Potomis near swallowed his epic Adam’s apple. But he who laughs first stands on & banana skin. She turned on me. “And you, tall, swarthy, lean man—I salute you. Metakonet! Now boys, you will do this for little Maurine, won't you?” I was getting ready to cast my vote hard for the negative, when up pipes my squaw. “Won- derful! I've always said that Jack had dra- matic talent. And he does look like an Indian. Just put a beaded tepee on him and a wampum Bill was nervous, but he put the first arrows juse on the mere edge, safe by a hair! W hew! All four feet left the ground at the same time, and four more in front of him left also. I'm no and you could stand him in front of a cigar store.” “Say—say,” I began, when Mrs. Ballou lets out a whoop. Bill was just “glub-glubbing” and making queer noises in his throat. “If that’s a good idea—I've got one that will go three no-trumps!” says she. “Bill, you know Buster, the tame bear at Toomey's Garage?” “Yeah—yeah.” “Oh, Maurine, he’s wonderful, this bear. He's big and black and anybody can handle him. Now why couldn’t you use him in your show—with—with these Indian boys?” Miss Eustis raised her hands as if to the Great Spirit. “Oh, I can't wait—we must start it now. Let us rehearse here in this very spot among the tall trees, standing like Druids of old—-" “Hold on a minute,” yells Bill, finally getting his voice. “I ain't an actor—I——" And then she turned on me, buzzing in a stealthy contralto. ‘“And you, Metakonet—tall, swarthy one of the great woods! You will point the way—with your searching gaze, while Potomis’ deadly arm brings down the quarry!” “Look here, Maurine,” says Bill. “I'll shoot three arrows. If I can't sink ‘em all in the cen- ter—you win. I'm old Pottowotomis for you!” Miss Eustis smeared this in mid-air. “Done. You can’t do it—you can’t—you can't.” “Can’t?” roars Bill. “Potomis—for once your aim is false,” hisses the pageant lady. “You can’t-—you can’t—you can't—you can't——" Bill was nervous; this queer third base coach- ing was coating his tongue and giving him astigmatism. He put the first arrow right on the mere edge—safe by a hair. Whew! Zing! And poor Bill banged nothing but his Waterloo; went way outside the charmed circle. He couldn't believe it—but three very feminine chortles must have convinced him. ¢'T°HE die is cast!” cried Miss Eustis. “Now when can you get out to Grenford? Five o’clock in the afternoon will be all right. We can rehearse the first scene any time. The Pageant is in three weeks. You might as well all come. PFPcan fit you two girls into the Early Dames of Grenford—or perhaps in the Great Chorus.” “If it's that scon,” says Mrs. Ballou, “per- haps it would be a fine idea to call at Toomey’s and see if we can get the bear. We’'ll eat lunch and drive right over.” Well, after lunch, we got packed into the car again and headed for Toomey's Wayside Ga- rage with Bear. You've seen‘ these alleged tame bears. Well, this one was big and brutal looking. But his owner admitted he was the friendliest black bear in the world. “What have you got him chained for?” I asked. “I'll say I've got him chained! Why, he's so friendly, he'd climb into any car at all if Charlie Paddock, but I know somebody who can tie him in a knot for.a 100 yards. Patomis with the fallen arches. it wasn't for that chain. Think I want to Yose. him?” Miss Eustis entered the fray—and it was all- over for Mr. Toomey. That baby could have taken the Pyramids off King Tut and he’d have paid the express charges. . “My dear Mr. Toomey, can’'t we borrow youe darling bear for two or three nights? You see, I'm directing the Grenford Pageant and—" “Lady, I'd be proud to have my bear in your Pageant,” says he, once he has the idea, “I know these gents won‘t hit him and they're usin’ wooden sticks anyway and Buster won't pay no more attention than if they was lolly- pops.” The Pageant was to be held in a park, but the rehearsals were being done in a hall. Bill. and I buzzed out there Monday night. We took the two wives along also. Miss Eustis was the. queen bee all right. She was all incandescent in her element, which was running a few hune dred people off their feet to Art. “Look here, Maurine,” begins Bill. “We— we just came out to visit. You see—we can't do this acting stunt—we——" She waved this out with more stuff than a big league umpire. “Don't talk silly. Of course you are. Now we will go right up to the upper studio and begin at once. Come, Potomis and Metakonet, come, my Indian braves!” Miss Eustis marked a chalk line at one end of the hall. “This is the forest of Potomis’ tribe. Tall trees are here and the soft, sere carpet of fallen pine needles. You, Metakonet, will lead, shad« owing your eyes as if in search of game—and you, Potomis, follow him, your bow and arrow ready. Now take your places. Advance. Ome, two—one, two, and so on. Watch me.” “Splendid, Metakonet!” she cried. “Y6u are a born actor. And now Potomis, a little more resiliency—relax.” We took another shot at it—and I hope to tell you if we looked as foolish as we felt, it was awful silly. “You'll do,” quoth Miss Eustis. “After a bit of coaching and practice. All these scenes are shot in the dark, during the pageant, and we play spots to show the special bits. When you two finish, the spot will be turned off and the bear removed behind the screen of ever- greens. Now let's run over this again for practice——" - After a couple of dry rehearsals, we went out one night just before the feature bout and said it with real costumes. “We're pretty rotten, hey?” I said to Bill “If Potomis and Metakonet ain’t regular fire- water braves, then Sitting Bull was a Blond Finan Haddle!” Potomis seemed worried. “We may look all right, but it that bear don't start a little Nick Altrock stuff, I'm a clairvoyant’s hassock.” CAME the night! The magnum opus was all ready to open. The three of us, Miss Lustis, Bill and me, stood in the shade of the Druids of old, waiting for the cue to go out and surprise the 10,000 gathered cash customers with our Art! “It won't be long now,” I said to Bill. “Forward, my brave Potomis and Meta- konet. I can see the dark shadow bulking in the velvet gloom—Forward! One, two—one, two ”» The big arcs sputtered and slapped us right in the face. Some more picked up Buster, out there on an invisible wire, wondering where the next pineapple cone was coming from. He turned and looked at the lights—startled. The band and great chorus over on the right wing got a lusty start with their “Oh, Hail the Dawn.” Buster must have had an ear for good music, because he backed away and if I caught a snarl, probably I was correct. “That bear is going to act up—take it from me,” whispered Bill. ” “Shut up. One, two—one, two. I'm gonna sight him in a minute!” “Metakonet can run,” moaned Bill. *“But poor old Potomis has fallen arches.” And then it all happened—like Vesuvius and . Continued om Thirteenth Page.