Evening Star Newspaper, March 9, 1930, Page 100

16 THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C, MARCH 9, 1930. THREE DAUGHTERS OF MARTIN DUKE By Fannie H, urst, the World’s Highest-Paid Writer ,o_f Short Stories: ' “Think 'm an old bird, don’t you? T'll show you. I'm going downtown to see what’s doing.” Wth. 3 . ‘Marian, the middle one of the trio, married first, when she was 19. Oiga, the youngest, went next. And finally Jeanne, who had ex- an adjoining State, and Olga’s to a New York stock broker left Martin Duke to the hat vast solitude of the old stone house to which 25 years ago he had brought a famous beauty for a wife and in which the three equally beautiful offsprings had been born. F COURSE, the obvious happened. It was unthinkable that Martin should continue to live imprisoned with his memories in the huge and silent house. He was a slender, active man, gray, but by no means an elderly father to his daughters; and while his problems were not exactly those of an old man retired from his business and bereft of interests, nevertheless persisted activities as golf in damp weather, shoveling snow off the stoop and walking, regardless of to the Chess Club in the center of i T luxury. Think I'm an old bird, don’t you? Il show you. No, I don't want to play solitaire. No, I don't need another reading lamp. I'm going downtown to see what is doing.” It was the same in New York. The sweet solicitude of lovely Olga. Her eagerness to con- vert her entire apartment into a lounging den T raéé’ Metals to Their Lair. with substances with which it w ) foiiog s —— mgm.flly difficult to obtain constant re- This situation is to be remedied in the future. Contihusd. Jrom Fiwisenih Toen The Pacific experiment station, working in conjunction with the University of California, is out to track the metals to their lair, pin them down, and find out the why and where- fore of them. s (Copyright, 193.) surprise, Dora sat qnaehle-. looking, wide-eyed and intent, into Aunt Mar- the tha’s placid face. as P o ; “You see, you're so up to date. But Jerry is theexperhnenuenrrledquthlheuu.-n Just the same he mdetite rounds, awkward an’ stupid an’ sorta dumb-witted——' W i ' Dupo;zt Circle. oAl pampered iil the home of his eldest, pampered in the “Your rheumatism—¥Father! Ed's a doctor. “Ed may be a doctor, but he don't know as well a8 T know how my rheumatism feels. I'm downtown. ” By Lewis Colwell. ERCHANCE some earth-blown sharding of a moon P Offered its patiern for this circled space, Claiming, as by inviolable rune, A city’s pledge to.hold in sure embrace Its open loveliness, whers sun and ‘shade Caress alike each high and lowly guest; Where crystal ribbaned walers in cascade Fall from a giant flower cup, compressed Of white flower-ghosts, who held long tenantry; And on paths bent about this marbled chalice Poets-walk hand in hand with ecstasy,; And childyen stop to. build a sandy pelace— o s o dA-ciby's arm; against ithe: strean; hold strong, Lol W O That” diktdved’ may build sand ; and poels, song. “That’s not true!” Dora cut in, her cheeks crimson. “I won't let you say such things. He's keen as a whip, Jerry is. He’s the best insurwice man in Linsdale. He's a And,” angrily, “you know it as well as any- “Lord, Honey, I was jes’ baitin’ you, Of course, I know it, but I wanted to be sure that you did,” Aunt Martha said. For a moment Dora stared at