Evening Star Newspaper, March 17, 1935, Page 84

- 10 Splendide et de la Sibérie, the entire nine hundred pilgrims; he had assumed that Les would spring with joy at seeing all his old neighbors. But Les did not spring to the extent of showing up at the dinner. The affair proceeded magnificently through green turtle soup, with sherry and invocation by the Reverend Mr. Mitch, sole Marguéry, with Brauneberger Hasenlaufer and thanks to our host by Mr. Scallion, canelon pressé, with Moslin é Vent and apt remarks, also humor, by Professor Thrig of the Jackrabbit schools, through roast and salad and sweet. At eleven-thirty it was really getting down to the speeches, with a patriotic address by Judge Stubber, to the effect that however wicked Paris might be, we in America could be proud of the fact that New York and Chicago were just as wicked any day or night, when the assistant manager wriggled up to Cordwood and whispered, “Surr, there is a man outside, he says he is a friend of you, he must see you — a Monsieur Doughgins.” w__ " stated Cordwood, but he went. Les Doggins was crouched on the edge of a chair in the anteroom, still in the blue shirt and orange tie, aind with a really promising sign of the black beard. He sprang up. He hissed — no matter if there weren't any s's in the words, he contrived to hiss them just the same: “You've got to help me. You've got to hide me from the police. I've killed 2 man — an Italian count. I fought a duel with him ——— "’ “In the Luxembourg Gardens?” “How did you know? Have the police been “Les! Do you know what's the trouble with you? Somebody’s bought you some liquor.” Wearily then, to the assistant manager: “Take this man up to a bedroom. Remove anything that's easily busted. Leave a pitcher of ice water and some aspirin — yes, and I ttink a good hymn book, if you've got one handy — and then lock him up, and don’t let him out till eight tomorrow morning, and send me the bill.” And the next night, precisely at midnight again, when Cordwood was going to bed happy in the thought that his bedroom and salon doors were bolted and safe against all Les Dogginses whatever, he was terrified at seeing a ghost on the ledge outside his window, and to have Les part the drapes and tumble in, mumbling, '‘Gotta hide me from the police. I just killed —— " “An Italian count in Luxembourg Gar- dens?"’ With hurt dignity, with wide and senatorial gestures, Les remonstrated, “It was not! It was a Spanish duke. In Blizzard Junction. Killed um. Duel!” Cordwood, as he unlocked the door, was brief. “Doggins, who's your music teacher?” Les smiled cunningly. “You can’t fool me. 1 haven't got any! I'm studying to be a sculptor now!” | “When d’ you quit the violin?"' “Months ago. Aley-aley, aleeeee-hooooo! 0Old Cordwood, the pore ole soak. Come have a drink!"” “Doggins, I've got a nice secretary. Percy Willoughby is his name. Tomorrow morning, just before you kill your first count, Percy will call on you with your ticket to America — third-class —and help you pack and take you to the boat train.” “And supposin’ I won't go, you old double- faced, lumber stealin’, claim-jumpin’ pirate? What'll happen then? Aley-aley-hoooooo!” “Oh, nothing. You'll just starve here in Paris, after my thousand is gone. Your allow- ance stopped promptly at midnight, tonight. But 1 might have Perce find out how many creditors you have, and tip 'em off that you're in funds just now.” Then for once, perhaps for the first time in his life, Les Doggins ceased looking calf-like and, much fortified within, became ferocious. He picked up a chair; he swung it aloft. shrieking, “‘All right! Good! I don't want your dirty money, that you stole. But mean- while, I’'m going to have a little fun with you!” It did not occur to Cordwood to be afraid of this drunk, thirty years his junior. He had known when lumberjacks had given up stamp- ing the faces of their opponents with spiked boots, as being too effeminate a gesture, and had taken to gouging out eyes. He moved catwise. But he didn’t like it. The furniture would get a good deal broken up and that wasn't really nice. The hotel manager might not care for it. He reached behind him for a heavy pottery bowl on a console. Les screamed in pure imbecile rage and came on, swinging the chair. The door opened and Maybelle Benner, in a quilted lavender dressing-gown and an awful black rubber cap on her nose, marched in, took one look, and snapped, ‘‘Lester O'Ginnis Doggins! You put that chair down, right away!” Les drooped ; the chair drooped ; Les turned humbly toward Mrs. Benner. : “To think I taught you for two years m THIS WEEK Katharine Cornell and Flush Co-eds it Cornell;‘ ‘Pre.renting Katharine Cornell’s dogs—Flush, a Star in his own right, Y. T S — and Sonia, a friend e % of long standing Flush and Sonia by HELEN PARTRIDGE shares her public life and Sonia, the dachshund, who shares her private life. While it is Flush, one of the stars of “The Barretts of Wimpole Street,” who thrills to the applause of the multitude, it is to Sonia that the great actress goes for rest and relaxation after she has played her part. Sonia never fails to be waiting in the wings for her mistress. If Flush is at all disgruntled at the presence of Sonia in the dressing-room or in the Beekman Place house, he has never shown it. This may be because he thinks of himself as a great artist, whose soul is nourished by the glare ot the spotlight and the clapping of hands. Unlike Flush, Sonia never had any stage ambitions. A rugged individ- ualist, she has none of that adaptability which makes Flush so good a trouper. Says Miss Cornell, “Sonia hasn’t the qualifications. You have to work with others if you are going to play a part; and Sonia never could be in any but the stellar role. Flush, on the other hand, is sweet and agreeable and anxious to please. That's why he is so good on the stage.” Sonia has a peculiar kind of independence, a rare intelligence which makes her feel, perhaps, a litele superior to Flush, a simple-minded fellow who can be made happy by the mere clapping of hands. If Flush is sweer, sentimental and adoring, his reward is sufficient when he realizes that he has given pleasure to others. Flush came to the stage as a matter of business. He answered an adver- tisement for the canine lead in a new play. The advertisement inserted by Miss Cornell in the classified columns asked first for a good cocker spaniel, one with a nice disposition, sweet and lovable. When Flush arrived there were no questions asked. The entire company shrieked and sat down on the floor. “He is Flush!’ they exclaimed. Sonia did not arrive in any such fashion. She was chosen from the litter because she “was the small one — the little one.” The fact that she was the little runt with a precarious hold on life touched Miss Cornell’s heart. Flush comes from good Westchester stock, but his line is not so distin- guished as that of Sonia, a Miinchner by birth, whose brothers and sisters dominated the German dog-show this year. The two dogs are with Miss Cornell constantly. They take her to the park for daily exercise. Sonia, being a short-haired dog, takes the air in a faded green outdoor sweater. “‘Really,” says Miss Cornell, “the sweater is incredible. It is all chewed to pieces and it has been mended by everybody who can knit.” And in it Sonia looks like a knock-kneed prize-fighter. Though Sonia is almost unknown to the great public of the actress, she is sure of her place in the spotlight of Miss Cornell’s affections. And she is completely content. I : ATHARINE CORNELL has two dogs, Flush, the cocker spaniel who Phoros G5 by Hermine Turner March 17, 1935 Sunday School —and a nasty little boy you were, too, and you always gambled your penny away, instead of putting it in the col- lection. And to this day you don't know your Golden Texts! Hey? What book of the Bible does ‘Hadad died also. And the dukes of Edom were: duke Timnah, duke Aliah, duke Jetheth,’ come from? Hey?"’ “I forget,” whimpered Les. *“You would! And I still owe you one for putting turpentine in my kitten’s milk, and I have half a mind to warm your jacket right here and now but — you get out of here, quick, and don’t you dare come back!" ‘“Yessum,” moaned Les Doggins, and fled, never again to adorn these pages. A'sCa'dwoodmabouttotakethenm chance of his life and embrace Maybelle, dressing-gown and nose-mask and all, they realized that Les had left the door open and that gathered outside were a score of the weightiest citizens of Jackrabbit Creek. The choir-soprano voice of Mrs. Mitch lilted, “And him in his shirt-sleeves, too! No wonder Mr. Doggins couldn't stand such goin's-on — sensitive poet-soul like him!"” ‘The nine-hundred-odd pilgrims had worked faithfully at enjoying themselves, but they hadn’t been successful. They had done their dnt.y by all of the thirty-seven churches worth seeing. They had faithfully chipped pieces of stone out of the palace at Fontainebleau to take home as souvenirs. They had eaten snails and Breton tripe when they wanted buck- wheats and hash. And now they were forlorn apdgwentoamlib!ewondaastowhytln dickens anybodg who had a nice home with his own pet rocking chair would ever leave it. The scandal of discovering Cordwood and Mrs. Benner in such intimacy brought their rebellion to the barricades. Mr. Mitch and Mr. Scallion and Mrs. Berklund assembled some eighty of the really significant pilgrims in secret _conclave in the dining-room of the Hote{ Minauderie. Few meetings since the granting of the Magna Carta have been more filled with indignation and whereases. Mr. Scallion, as chairman, was in magnificent form. He was as gentle as though he were back home, refusing a loan on a quarter-section. He had a voice, did Mr. Scallion. It rang like the ice beneath December skates upon Jack- rabbit Slew, it moaned like the wind in the cottonwoods, it blared like the Jackrabbit Band, as he read the demands of the steering committee: ‘“Whereas we, the undersigned, had not got any desire to come to Europe till we were so invited to do so by Mr. S. G. McGash, Esq., and whereas said McGash, unmindful of his duties as an American citizen and paying no attention to the rest of us, has been bumming around Paris all the time with Mrs. Maybelle Benner and we all wish to go on record right here and now as being opposed to her being reappointed to her job as principal of the Junior High **Therefore we demand of the said Mr McGash, Esq., that he not keep us penned and imprisoned here in Paris but since it was his idea in the first place anyway that we should go abroad and he talked a lot about us enjoying ourselves like we liked, that he accede to our demands as follows, viz: *‘Mr. Scallion to go to England and to be provided with letters to American ambassador and to Governor of Bank of England, with several Lords, etc., to study financial con- ditions, etc., etc., also suite in high-class hotel. With Mrs. Scallion and Mervyn. “Rev. and Mrs. Mitch and family to in- vestigate missions in Turkey, India, China, Japan. *Mr. Cohen & Mr. Cabot to investigate questionable morals in Monte Carlo. “Dr. Berklund to take two-year course in surgery, psychoanalysis, German skiing in Vienna — P.S. he is willing to pay fifty dollars ($50.00) per month toward salary of sub- stitute doc to hold his practise during said period, rest of salary to be met by said McGash, “‘Miss Benicia Axelbrod is willing to remain in Paris, to study as beautician, but requires flat, hired girl, and letters of introduction, otherwise willing to get along on two hundred fifty ($250.00) a month during said term of study.” There were only seventy-four other de- mands, because one of the council, Mrs. Pandora Gittle, wailed, *“All I want to do is to go home to Jackrabbit — quick. I just know1 left the light on in the cellar!”’ They appointed a delegation of three to call on Cordwood and quietly make him see the light, but just as the meeting was adjourn- ing, Cordwood walked in on it, swiftly, followed by Percy Willoughby. He knew all about it Sister Tinkerbun had been listening to the whole affair from the service door of the dining-room and she had run sputtering to Cordwood. Cordwood banged a table with a noise surprising from so small a hand, and an- nounced, I hear you folks have decided to go (Continued on page 15) .——_———-