Evening Star Newspaper, September 13, 1931, Page 90

THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C, SEPTEMBER 13, 193|.> : deayiMorning Among the Cross-Words ACROSS. . Hcals., . A bcom. . Crest or herd. .To make smoolh or even. . Sluggish. . Expertness. . Melody. . Violent. .One who bestows. . Province of Irish Free State. .Kind of type. . Corroded. . Belonging to Per- sia. . In the lcwest de- gree. . Decade. 33.To be enated. reincar- ™ 35. Stale. 37. Bubbles. 39. Circle. 41. Eradicate. 43. Eye intently. 44. Hung down. 48. A plant fiber. . Light thin silken stuff. . Sin. . Civetlike animal. . Bathed. . An upright sculp- tured slab of ston2, . Carriage. . Preclude. . Long for, . Extend over. . Compound ether. . Blue or green pig- ments. .Saw suddenly. . Clear. . Pemale sheep. . Striped beast. . Not dense. . Shields. .South American animal. . Raced. . Singing with a quaver. . Seaport in British West Africa. . Ferocious. . Grain. 98. 99. 101. 103. 105. 106. 109. 111, 114. 116. 120. An element. Periods of life. Fleshy fruits. Clothed. Council; arch. Wandering. Re-examine. Cru:t. Necicloth. Those who with- draw. Part of verb “to . Quadruped. 123. . Steep. 126. 125 Mountain nymph. Command. . Utters melodious notes. . Enter. . Think. . Belief. . Mohammedan prince. . Wicked. .Push with elbcw. . Wooden strips. . Wisconsin In- dians. . Disown. . Precipitous. e@AB LN DOWN." . Roll of tobacco. Join. Festivity. Before. Trying. Bristle. Portray. Reach upward. Betakes one's self. . Vehicle. . Spoken. . Makes muddy. . Violent thunder squall on coast of Cuba. . Talks a#le.ssly. . Hang back. . Lessen. . Saltpeter. . Delightful regions or abodes. . To necessitate. . Gave. .Hangs down. . Anger. . Attempt. . Portable lodges. . Star of the first 94. Squander. 96. Flower cf the Nile. NOTHING Continued from Eighth Page magnitude. it? Yes. That's—wait a minute—a little over 13 hundred, isn’t it? One thousand and three hundred dollars in little things for a fat old woman who needs them as much as I need an airship!” “Yvonne! Be still! hasn’t been well—" “Oh yes I am!” shrilled the red-headed girl. “I'm well and I'm sane and I'm sober, and I've wanted to get this off my chest for six years and nobody can stop me! Thirteen hundred dollars—and seven hundred and fifty would straighten my sister’s teeth!"” She was shaking so that she could hardly stand, and two other saleswomen came running and laid soothing hands upon her, but she shook them off. “I won't hush! Seven hundred and fifty, the dentist said, and next year it'll be too late to do a good job, and she'd be pretty as a picture if we could have it done, but we can’t, so she’ll have to go right on looking like a little gopher!” “Really,” said Mrs. Montrese, struggling to rise from her deep, soft seat, “the creature is out of her mind.” But the girl shot out a thin arm. “No! You sit still and get an earful for once in your overstuffed, shock-absorbered life! My pretty little sister can’t have her teeth straight- ened and it'll mean all the difference between happiness and misery for her maybe, because I can’t buy a beautiful young duke for her, the way you did for that horse-faced, bird-headed daughter of yours, and much good it did you Madame—she’s ill. She called Iris, and one of the others sped away to the rear. The red-headed girl grasped the arms of Mrs. Montrose’s chair and went down on her knees before her so that her customer was imprisoned. “And my mother’s got a cough—that sounds like sob stuff, doesn’t it? But it's the straight dope, and she’s never going to get over it till she gets a change and she's never going to get .a change! The little light wrap for Florida nights at four and three-quarters could send “her out to my cousin in New Mexico, but you're going to wear it over the little orchid velvet ..thing that you can’'t draw a breath in.” Valentine was coming down the long, thickly carpeted room at a trot. “Silence! Miss Yvonne! Be still!” “Listen to me!” said Yvonne again, shaking the chair with such force and fury that Mrs. Montrose’s head jerked on her shoulders. “That’s not the worst. My boy friend that TI've been going with six years, he told me last night that he was through! ‘You've been stringing me along for five years,’ he said to me. ‘Next year we could get married, sure! Next year you could park your mother some- .Avhere—next year the kid sister would be sneak- ing up on a pay envelope! Next year—always next year! Well’ he said, ‘I'm sick and tired 42 Projecting parts of a roof. 44. District in Altica. 45, Goddess of dis- cord. 46. Belcnging to the past terse. 47.To charge as a dcbt. 49. Springs forward. 51. Despoil. 52, Mountain range of Turkestan. 53. Grant temporary use of. . Implied by silznce. 58. Falls in drops. 61. Central post in a staircase. 63. Fit for a king. 65. Lowest sides. . Whirls. 70. Division of <Jhe calyx. 72. Vision. 75. Wire cuiters. 7. Severity. 79. Separated. 80. Portico. 81. Steep rcck. 82. Malicious look. 84. Revolving part. 86. A minced oath. 87. Take out. 89. Snarls or growls. 91. Cork; Latin. 95. Resembling a dragon. 97.In stern ‘manner. 100. Pcrched. 102. Trappers. 104. To cut into cubes. 107. Animals. 108. Allowance for waste in trans- portation. 110. Lccal counter ir- ritants. 111. Hurls. 112, African gazel. 113. Medicinal plant. 115. Got on. 117. Omit. 118. Extent of varia- tion. 119. Long, heavy oar. 122. Mineral springs. 124. Boy's nickname. 128. Receive. 130. Emma in Spanish. 131, White metal. 133. Place. > NN ann SR (RS ailim WILL EVER HAPPEN TO ME AGAIN of your line, see? Now get this’ he said to me, ‘I want to marry you, but I'm going to marry somebody! I'm 32, and I want to get where I'm going! I'm through,’ he said, after all the years we've gone together .and every- thing.” She was breathing like a runner and the words came jerkily. *“And then today— here you come in because you don’t know what else to do and buy $1,350 worth of ‘little things’ you don’t need——" Mrs. Montrose was registering her intention to swoon. Valentine and two girls bent over her in frantic solicitude, while the others drag- ged Miss Yvonne away. “You are discharged!” Valentine shrieked at her. “Do you hear, Madame? I am dis- charging her now—this instant—without a ref- erence! Miss Clarice,” she implored one of her assistants, “bring her hat—her coat——" Miss Clarice sped away and returned at a run, clutching a shabby coat, a shabby hat, a pair of muddy galoshes, and three agitated salespersons tried at once to assist her in forc- ing them upon their owner, the red-headed girl. She eluded their grasp and made a dive at Mrs. Montrose again. “They all think the same about you, every one of 'em! I'm just the only one to explode, that's all. But they all hate you and laugh at you and make fun of you, you and all your kind, and mimic you and take you off behind your back—all you overfed, underworked, over- stuffed old women with frigid air in your veins and moth balls for minds and ice-bags where your hearts ought to be!"” It was at that point that the united sales- persons of Valentine’'s succeeded in overpower- ing her, jammed her hat down over her eyes and bundling her coat about her and dragging her out a side entrance into an alley. VALEN’TINE herself took Mrs. Montrose home. Both women whimpered and shiv- ered all the way and tugged their wraps higher under their chins and cowered deeper under the fur robe. The Frenchwoman kept up a constant jabber of broken sentences: “She is gone—forever—that ingrate, that imbecile. Madame, say to me one word—I beg, Madame, assure me that you saw her discharged!” But Mrs. Montrose huddled in her corner. It was almost nine that night before Mrs. Montrose could be induced to take even the slenderest nourishment. Agnes, bringing in a well loaded tray, set it down while she found her mistress’ favorite bed-jacket of palest peach velvet edged with swansdown and tiny pearl drops, but Mrs. Montrose waved it away and demanded a severe and mannish thing of gray. She was giving languid attention to a cup of steaming clam broth when her door was wrenched open and the girl called Miss Yvonne bounded in and slammed it in the butler’s hor- rified face. “Excuse me!” she gasped. “But I had to see you.” S Mrs. Montrose shrank back, but she clutched at her usual method. “Oh, you've come to apologize?” she said, thanaging a rather rugged sneer. o ‘The young woman from Valentine's shook her head. *“No! Not on your life! I got a wonder- ful kick out of it! I didn’t say a word I'd take back—except about the rest of ’‘em.” She pressed nearer, leaning on the bed with its dragging spread of heavy lace. “That was all a lie, see? It was the straight dope about me; I felt like that, but they didn't at all! They never said a word against you; they never even thought anything mean about you, so help me! They're all as crazy about you as old Mam'zelle herself, and I was an awful piker to lie about ‘em like that!” She brought out a slip of paper and a pencil. “I wrote out something for you to sign, see?” She read it aloud: * ‘I know that Margaret Cleary, that is, Miss Yvonne, was lying when she said Miss Iris and the rest of the sales- persons said those things about me. I know they are perfectly innocent of everything and I will continue to trade at Valentine's.'” Mrs. Montrose looked at her in shivering silence, drawing away from the outheld pencil. “I shall certainly—I certainly will not——" she quavered, but the red-headed girl took her cold fingers in a warm grip and closed them round the stubby pencil. “Sure, you will!” she said encouragingly, and her voice for the instant was the old warm velvety tone of Miss Yvonne of Valentine's bringing out the little things very conservatively priced. “That's right—‘'Marianne Montrose— (Mrs. George Wayne)'—and thanks a million!” She folded the paper briskly and slipped it back into her purse. “I guess maybe they won't be tickled pink to get that in the chill gray dawn! All right. Good night!” . “Wait!"” Mrs. Montrose dragged herself higher on her pillows. She had no make-up on and the tired flesh sagged baggily on cheek and chin and throat. She swallowed hard. “Wait a minute! I want to ask—where do you live? ‘What are you going to do?” “Who, me?” Margaret Cleary laughed, and it was not a desperate laugh at all. It was young and gay and singularly carefree. “Why, I might go down to Bermuda on a yacht or I might fly out to Coronado, and then again I might oblige temporarily in Meyer's Palace food em- porium—short orders! I kind of think that's the best bet.” “But—but after the position you've held——" “Yeah!” said Margaret Cleary, inelegantly and happily. “After the position I've held, to be on the level, to feed people that's honest-to- goodness hungry and charge ’em decent prices ” : “But your family——" “We’ll make out,” said the red-headed girl. She squared her thin shoulders and there was about her the sense of banners and trumpets. “Now I have to beat it. The boy friend's wait- ing. He's tickled pink. He didn't think I had it in me, he said. Say, listen, don't you worry about me—about us!” She came swiftly back to the bed and bent over and gave Mrs. Mont~ rose’s hand a quick pat and & hard squeeze. “You get to sleep now"—the gray-green eyes were kind—“you poor old thing!” THE Duc de la Tour had no regular hours for retiring and rising, he was never able to decide which was the longer and more dreadful, the night or the day, but he always dreaded whichever was coming and sought to delay it. Midnight had struck before he signed to his attendant that he was ready to begin the diffi- cult business of getting to bed. Olaf had just laid hands upon his wheeled chair when there came a tap at the door. Raoul wished his mother-in-law an amazed good evening. “This—this is very amiable of you, madame. Olaf—a chair!" “No.” She waved the servant back. “I'm not staying. I—I have not been well today. I must get some rest. But before I go to sleep —if I go to sleep—I wanted to tell you—" “Yes, madame?” . “I have cabled your mother—just now—I cabled her that we were sending the child %o her at once.” The pause before he spoke seemed very long. “Madame,” he began brokenly, “madame, if I could express—if I could say to you—" He gave it up and covered his face with his thin hands. The Duc de la Tour made a manful effort to get hold of himself. “No words, madame . . . my gratitude.” He stopped and drew a steady- ing breath. “But—may one ask——" Mrs. Montrose sighed. “I don’t know . . . ft's very late. Oh, yes . . . you remember what I sald this morning?” “About the child, madame?” “No. You hoped something pleasant would happen and I said, ‘Nothing will ever happen to me again.'” “I remember perfectly, madame.” “I was mistaken.” Never in his miemory had Mrs, Montrose been mistaken before. ‘“‘Some- thing did happen to me today and again this evening. Well—good night, Raoul.” She stepped closer and submitted to the little foreign ceremony. He murmured his good night, but he kept his head down. He did not see, therefore, how strangely her face, naked of make-up, was working. “Don’t, Raoul . . . don't—please. You must get to sleep now, you poor thing. You poor young thing.” Olaf closed the door after her and she walked wearily down the hall. It had been a long day; she kad wakened so early that morning. Marsh-Mallow Is Useful HE marsh-mallow, the blooms of which ap- pear like giant hollyhocks, is common along the salt marshes of the eastern coast of the United States. The showy flowers borne on fibrous stalks from 2 to 4 feet in height are a spectacular feature of the coastlands during August and September. ‘The plant is wholesome as a food, being abundantly supplied with fiber, starch, sugar and mucilage. The mucillaginous content is largely found in the roots, and it is this part of the plant which enters into commerce, sup- plyln(mfln base for marshmallow pastes and can