New Britain Herald Newspaper, August 31, 1921, Page 4

HOLDING A HUSBAND Adele Garrison’ s New Phase of Revelations of a Wife The Way Grace Draper Anticipaf. Dicky's Request. Dr. Pettit started violently words, and repeatad the nan.e I uttered. “Grace Drape then cast a quick, tecting lance toward 1t was the sort of mi attitude—I will Iy come near plied to the at roy had he said hoarseiy, torian miiic let nothing ursasro- you thing—which, a» up-to-date, thoroughiy sophisticated western girl. made e sm’le to mysef, even tevourh my anxiety as to the physicians reaction to my news. Then he turned to me with digni- fied sternness. ‘You have brought me here under a misapprehension, Mrs. Graham,” he said. T will not sit at dinner witk Grace Draper, nor permit Miss Foster to do so. You will please excuse us.” He was' turning away, when I laid my hand lghtly upon his sleeve. Just a moment,” 1 said silkily. “May I remind you that your only knowledge of Grace Draper has been gnined through vour office as a phy- sician? Apart from that you know nothing of her. May I ask what rea- son you will give Miss Foster, or What explanation you imagine I shall give her if you do so outrageous a thing as betray a professional confi- dence? I certainly shall not permit her to g0 home unenlightened “Are You Not Afraid— He started again and looked at my face searchingly. I knew that in his Pprepesterous conceit he was afraid I might reveal to Claire Foster the his- tory of his long and asinine devotion to me before he met her. And I am afraid I meant him to think precisely that very thing, impossible as the carrving out of my implied threat would have been. Even his self-control could not hide the battle that followed between his fear of my revelatian and his desire to leave. But fear finally conquered. and he replied grimly: “I am at your mercy, of course. But vou not afraid— Claire Foster's gay voice interrupt- ed us Wwith a merry sally, and from that moment until, having summoned Grace Draper from her room, we sat down to the prettily lighted table sta- tioned in a screened wing of the ver- anda looking out over a tiny moonlit lake, I had no time to think of his unfinished sentence. Then I aec- knowledge to myselt that 1 was afraid, horribly so, of this experiment which brought Grace Draper back into our lives agaln. But I was determined that no hint of my feeling should escape me, and for two hours, which seemed an cternity, I furnished the conversation- al background against which Claire Foster and Dicky scintillated in talk <isways merry and interesting, and at times positively brilliant. Distarbing Thoughts. Dicky would manage his in- ‘itation {0 Misa Foster to pose for his dlustrations for Pennington's book 1 did not know, but after dinner he pro- posed a stroll down to the lake.Adriot- 'y leading the way with the girl, he left Grice Draper and me to Dr. Pettit’s escort. When we all returned to the lighted veranda, I saw by the girl's delighted, excited face that he had made the offer, and she had ac- ted it. I saw Grace Draper covert- watching, and feared that she, too, d read the story Miss Foster's face revealed, wendering uneasily how she would act upon her knowledge. I had forgotten her wonderful poise. When Dr. Pettit had driven away with Miss Foster, Dicky lagged behind. T %new he did this for the purpose ot breaking the news to Grace that he must have another face than hers for ins poses. Suddenly she rose, crossed thé veranda to a pillar which partly shaded her face, and asked quietly. Did it ever strike you that Miss Foster's profile is much lke what mine used to be?” Dicky started, quietly “Have you see startling.” “Do you know, honestly, Dicky, if You can get her, I think you ought to have her do those poses instead of me. I'm older, vou know, and my mirror tells me how I've changed.” There was not a break in her voice, but something hopeless in it made my heart ache, Dicky’'s response was prompt if stammering: “Look here, old girl! Nobody in the world can beat you at posing, and you know it. Miss Foster doesn't Know the first rudiments of the thing. I reed you for evervthing but just one thing, and—and—if you don't mind I would like to have her—" “For the face?”’ The words were almost a whisper. “Only for the fiflesh curves. They're just what vours were. But that's ab- solutely all. I must hav vou for all the postures, and to wear the smart clothes—and—"" “T'll be glad to help vou in every- <hing, even when helping vou means keeping out of the picture,” she re- turned with what was evidently an attempt at lightness. But she kept her face persistently in the shadow, d lonzg after we had left I wondered what had been in her eyes as she watched Dicky from that steady, masking shadow. How then returned as it too? It is quite TIME BY ARTHUR SCOTngg’AILEY' TALES O TALE wis ™ HOME AGAIN Johnnie Green drove his pony, Twinkleheels, back over the road that led to the village. Now and then he stopped at a farmhouse to inquire whether anybody had seen old dog Spot, who had vanished on the way hcme from the circus the evening be- fore. Nobody had set eyes on him. And Johnnie Green drove on and on, feel- ing more and more miserable all the ‘while. At last, as he turned a sharp bend of the road, he heard a bark. There was no mistaking it. It was Spot’s. There was a joyful meeting then. Johnnie sprang out of the buggy and Sprot sprang into his arms And Johnnie hugged the old fellow tight- Iy. right there in the middle of the road. “What in the world has kept you here ever since yesterday?” Johnnie asked him. Spot must have understood. Any- how, he dashed to one side of the road. And following him, Johnnie found there a robe that belonged to his father. It had dropped out of tke carryall the evening before, when the Green family were on their way home from seeing the circus. Nobody in the carriage had Missed it. But old Spot, running under the car- riage, had seen it fall. And he stayed behind to guard it all through the leng night Ot course Spot couldn’t nie Green all this. But wasn't slow in guessing what happened He picked up the robe and put it under the seat of the little buggy. Then he and Spot both jumped in And Johnnie turned Twinkleheels’ head toward home Back at the farm almost every- body said that old dog Spot was a hero. Farmer Green cxclaimed that Spot was a falthful old fellow. And Mrs. Green set out such a meal for him as Spot had never seen before in all his life Now, there were two or three of Spot’s neighbors in the farmyard that didn’t like the prai he was get- ting. Turkey Proudfoot, the gobbler, remarked that if people didn't know enough to come home to roost at night he saw no reason for making a fuss about Miss Kitty Cat de- €lared that so far as she was con- cerned she would have been just as well pleased if Spot hadn't come back to the farm at all. And Henrietta Hen had more to say than anyone else She hurried up to old dog Spot him- self and insisted on talking with him “Huh!" she exclaimed. “You only spent one day at the circus, while last fell 1 stayed a whole week at the county fair.” . “Did you hear a band at the fair?"” Spot asked her. oo s A “OVER THE HILL” Fox’s — Saturday tell John- Johnnie had “Yes!"” “Did you see any races?” “There were raced every da 1 didn’'t care to watch them,” rietta Hen answered. “Did you see any elephants at the fair?” Spot demanded. “Elephants!” said Henrietta Hen. “What are elephants?” Spot pointed—with his nose—to one of the posters on the barn. “There's a picture of some ele- phants,”” he told her. “And I must say it's a good one.” “There were no elephants at the county fair,” Henrietta Hen admitted as she gazed at the circus poster on but Hen- “Did you see any elephants at the fair?” Spot demanded. the side of the barn. of them has two tail she cried. “1 don’'t see how they know whether they're going backward or forward.” faybe they don't know,” Spot retorted. “Maybe that’s part of the fun in being an elephant. For I sup- pose there’s fun of some sort in be- ing anybody, even a-a-a—" “Even a what?” Henrietta snapped. Were you going to say a Hen?" “I was,” Spot replied. “But I re- membered that it wouldn't be polite.” “I should say not!" Henrietta Hen zckled. “I should say not!” And then, being very angry, she hurried off to tell the rooster what had hap- pened “T'll have to be careful how I talk to these farmyard folks,” Spot mut- tered. “They haven't had a chance to learn some of the things that I Know. “For I've been to the village and seen the world—and the circus, too,” added old dog Spot. ‘Why, every one (Copyright 1921 by The Metropolitan Newspaper Service). Tomorrow: Little makes her bow to set of Bailey Tales. In her red-and- black polka-dot Mrs. Ladybug works hard for Farmer Green But she is ver too busy to chatter at Buster Bumblebee and Betsy Butterfly, Chirpy Cricket, or Mr. P. Bug from Cclorado. Mrs. Ladybug you in another l NEW BRITAIN DAILY HERALD, WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 31, “HIS OWN HOME TOWN” By Larry Evans. An absorbing story of a * (Copyright 1917, by the H. F. Fly C «Continued from Yesterday's Herald.) Jimmy Gordon, the family black sheep and village ne'r do well, comes home after several months’ absence and Teceived a cool welcome. The only pleasant greetings he gets arc from *“Melody” a not, too respectable actress, and a dog owned by the local saloon keeper. Jimmy is stepson ol the Rev. Watson Duncan. Rev. Dun- can however, ignores Jimmy but goes to the station with T. Elihu Banks, the banker and village magnate, who is a brother to Duncan’'s wife, making him an uncle to Jimmy, where the pair meet Sidney Banks, Elihu’s son, as the latter alights from the train, “‘gorgeous in fine rainment and leading a bull terrior by a leash.” Jimnuy and Carol Landis are in love with each other. Carol is the daughter of “Old Dave’” Landis, owner of the Daily Courier, a run down newspaper plant. She is an amateur actress and because of her, Jimmy is ordered from home by the Rev. Watson Duncan. T. Elihu Banks, who is one of the leading politicians in the communi does his best to make things disagree- able for Jimmy. One night Jimmy gses into a gambling den in order to keep his cousin, Sidney Banks, and TLloyd Jameson, a son of the local jndge, from being fleeced by a couple of crooked gamblers. Just as he ex- poses the game, the police break in and raid the place. Jimmy helps Banks and Jameson to escape but is trapped himself. Judge Jameson gives him 24 hours to leave town. He leaves immediately. o Carol Landis leaves with a theatri- cal troupe. Ehe returns to her home and is scorned by the residents. Years 'ater she returns as a successful actress and is feted in the best houses. Shortly after this her father dies and leaves the Courier to Jimmy Gordon. Jimmy takes charge of the paper and the townspeople try to lionize bhim. He manages to obtain evidence to prove T. Elihu. guilty of crooked pelitics and exposes him in The Ceurier. Tivotson, city editor of The Courier, is kicked out when he goes to in- terview T. Elihu following the pub- lication of charges. The next edition of The Courier contains an accurate account of Tivotson's visit and what happened. Gordon is accosted on the street after publication of the ac- ccunt, by Judge Jameson, who threat- cns to drive him ou‘ of town again. Jimmy defies him and retaliates by telling the judge that he (the judge) may be the man to leave this time before The Courfer got through with him. Tivotson, formerly was a mem- ber of the Banks-Jameson gang of crooked politicians and has “the goods on them.” Whitey Garritty, another member of the gang, out on bail for grand lar- ceny twice postponed and apparent- Iy being protected by Judge Jameson, is summoned into conference by the latter, who intimates that Tivotson could be handled if Gordon were out of the way. Some time later, fol- lowing T. Elihu Bank’'s unsuccessful attempt to buy off The Courier for $30,009, two shots are fired at Gor- don as he leaves the home of Carol Landis. He is saved by Pegleg Han- lon, who drags him into his bar-room. Hanlon declares it was Garritty who fired the shots and promises to cap- ture the latter. Hanlon stopped him with an imper- ious gesture. “Aye, I know! Small town stuff, I've heard it called with supreme scorn. Small town stuff! and ye'll not endeavor to protest till I have finished, for ’twill avail ye little! Ffaugh! The wan worst community 1 ever knew was a town av four hun- dred souls. Meanness is not a mat- ter of geography, nor does vicious- ness depend upon population. Human nature is human nature, irrespective av longitude or latitude, or the last cinsus report. Jimmy, lad, ye've felt foolish this night, ye've felt ashamed av yerself for participstin’ in a per- formance so theatrical an’ silly, when ve should have been thankin' hiven that ye ar're not lyin’ yonder on the pavement coughin’ to keep yere throat clear av blood. “But ye’ll take it more serious-like now—or would ye still be thinkin’ to change the greed av T. Elihu Banks, the hope av the Civic Reform party for U. S.\senator, by a few minor alterations av vere play dialogue? Would ye still think to correct Dis- trict Attorney Jameson’s interpreta- tion av his role, and recast him as an honest man, with a man’s in- stincts and courage, instead av the desperation av a cornered rat Jimmy sat gazing at the floor. “I understand,” he said heavily. “You speak as though you were sure, and yet—" “Ther’'re ar're iliments av dr-rama which ye have overlooked. Shall I be afther sketchin' for ye, without claim to literary excellence, a scene or two which. mayhap, ye have failed to imagine?” Jimmy signed with a shake of his head the needlessness of such a course. “I understand,” he repeated slow- “You think Banks went to Jame- and that Jame- ly. son after he saw me, sen went to Garritty “Garritty went to Jameson,” Han- lon corrected him, ‘‘at Jameson's or- der, or to be choice av words an’ their meanin.’ at Jameson's invitation. And Jameson told him that there might be a new district attorney to try his case. come the next session av court, what with the return av Jimmy Gordon to Warchester. “Ive heard that many a successful play has been written in a three- room suite overlookin’ the avenoo. The old belief in the inspiration to be won in an unheated attic was long since proved to be as false as the handicap av three meals a day. An' ye did not come here to embroil verself im a political vendetta.” ““That's true,’ said Jimmy. rum- inatingly. “And that'’s not the worst of it, either. I was thinking—of your criticism of my fickle point of view. I'm afraid, Pegleg, it'll be nccessa for me to change the entire plan of my third act.” ‘no-good” who made good with the aid of the woman who loved and trusted. 0. and Metropolitan Magazine Co.) Jimmy was thinking of “Old Dave’ Landis—and *“0ld Dave Landis’ daughter. Until then he had never tully realized the measure of her bravery—the measure of her kind- ness to the boy he had been. As he laid one hand upon Hanlon's a'm, the sun edged up over the horizon and touched the dingy roofs with rose. Even the scum on the river shimmered and was beautiful. There was poetry in the soul of the proprietor of Hanlon's place. He had a prophet’s clear vision. ‘Tis tomor- row already, lad,” he murmured, and pointed with gnarled forefinger. “Aye —;]and 'tis not such a bad town afther all.! Jimmy went to sleep that morning, almost as soon as his head touched the pillow, and though he was half censcious at times of the presence of Abel who came a-tiptoe once to draw the shades against the bold summer cunshine, and again and again to fuss and putter with them officiously, it was late afternoon before he awak- ened. There was a letter face up on the table, and the appearance of it was familiar. Long after Abel had shot up the shades, and brought it to him, with the explanation that it had come in on a late mail, had been de- livered at the Courier office, whence Tivotson had dispatched it, thinking ic might be of importance, Jimmy sat gazing at Carl Hardy's letter. And then he laid it aside unopened. It was a disturbing thing—in a way al- most portentous—but though his spirits suffered a sudden drop he still clung to his Sabbath plan, or what was left of it. But he no longer felt exhilaration—no longer thrilled at lthe thought of the adventure. He rose and dressed with a pro- found pre-occupation that was proof- against even Abel's garrulity. “Ain’ goin’ to see 'at ole boy roun’ this heah town again,” he heard the gentleman of color declare, without Irealizing that he was bewailing the flack of success which had attended |the flabby-looking waiter’s search for iGarritty. “Ain’' no need lookin’ foh him no mo’ heahabouts. ‘At boy on way by now—on his way!” Jimmy had finished with his scarf, and turned. And at the same moment, without a thought that it was to prove in any way a sensation, Abel drew from a side pocket of his coat a small, flat automatic pistol. Staring at the compact firearm in Abel's out- stretched hand, his face grew redder and redder, until Abel, thinking to read anger in that painful flush, sought to clear himself by placing the lame for the tactless blunder on one higher up. “Hanlon, he done ordah me to give it to you,” he explained. “She ain’ big, and she ain’ bulby. “Damnation!” Jimmy ejaculated. and instinctively discreet, Abel drew back the hand which held the offen- sive object. *This is going altogether too far. With a little more such ad- vertising, Hanlon'll have the thing spread all over town.” “All ovah town?" the gentleman of color echoed wonderingly. “You mean—" But he abandoned the auestion, deciding that the meaning could be none other. “Mist’ Goh’don said, importantly, “no advertisin n’ necessary. Since daybreak this keah community ain’ vuthin’ else.” Jimmy's hot color began to go, but his manner remainei somewhat des- perately hardssed. “Is Hanlon in?" he asked, conséious of the countless times he had asked the colored man the same question. “He ain’ Sen home sense mawnin’ He told me to remind you to be roun’ tonight. Some gentlemen comin’ in foh a little 'lection conference.” “Of course.” And after a period of thought: “Tell him I'll be back. And, Abel, when you return his pis- tol to him, perhaps it would be just s well if you explained that I forgot it—left it lying on the table here— do you see? In speaking of the wide report which Whitey Garritty’s attack upon the owner of the Courier had al- ready enjoyed, Abel Thompson, even with the racial habi' of happy exag- geration strong upon him, had, if anything, failed to do the matter {jnslice. For, having flowed like spilled quicksilver to the four quarters of the the news had ignored mere mu- nicipal boundaries, to penetrate even the outlying rural regions which drew upon Warchester not only for politi- cal propaganda, but the more com- plex and sordid sensations as well. And it was a much garbled rumor which had gone abroad. That would seem, on the face of it, to be a tedi- ously obvious statement, for rumor is always garbled, else where the en- joyment in indulging in it? But the wide and peculiar variety of the story’s ramifications may be best in- Gicated, perhaps, by particular men- tion of two of them, selected mnot at random from the many. At the same hour (2 o'clock in the morning) when the Rev. Watson Dun- can, industriously plying a pencil be- neath a shaded lamp that shed a graciously mellow light upon the ser- mon which he meant to deliver the next evening, was called to the tele- phone to hear that the person with whose iniquity that very sermon was most concerned, had departed vio- lently this vale of sin and sorrow; it was also reported to District At- torney Jameson, verbally, as he stood in his door-way, in slippers and dress- ing-gown, that the owner of the Courier had not only met a sudden end, but that one Garrity, the means thereto, lay incarcerated, already charged with the crime. It goes without ving that both Duncan and Mr. Jameson were distinetly shocked. In what different degrees it is not given to state. For there is more to be gained in a con- templation of their changed emotions, when, later, both reports were nailed fa Mr. Jameson after a frantic and futile effort to get Mr. Banks on the wire, had locked himself in his room, whence to the amazement of his fam- ily, from time to time there emanated muffled sounds not unlike a groan. iAnd yet, a half hour following the as been talkin' of : 1921, By Marian. Hale New York, Aug. 31.—Each season brings a thousand tams, you say. Yes, but where are the tams of yes- terday? : Well, they may be in the discard along with last year's roses—but what matter so long as there is a brand new one. Here it is—the very latest tam. To be sure it doesn’t come direct from the land of the High and Heather. It took a little detour via Paris. That accounts for fits ultra chicness. The new tam might, however, bo described as being of the Tudor type. It looks a bit like the hats King Henry VIII used to affect when he was all dolled up to make a hit with the ladies. There are eights points or corners to it and these corners are accentu- ated by the black velvet being corded in silk. A cabachon of uncurled ostrich adorns this Franklin Simon model. receipt of the second report, a denial of the first, he emerged again, sleek- ly combed and garbed with dignity. But his amazing conduct did not stop there. That morning for the . first time in a period of years, with an air of weariness he expressedehis in- tention of accompanying his wife to church. On the other hand, the Rev. Wat- sen Duncan was most unecclesiastical- ly chort with Mrs. Duncan, delicate of health, who by chance elected to come down to breakfast that morning —a task she rarely essayed. Mr. Duncan had thought to spare her until then. After listening to the first news of his stepson’s death, be had gone straight to bed with several apt phrases concerning the wrath of a righteous God running through his head. Work on the ser- mon he abandoned since, naturally, it need never be finished. And so, with the second bulletin which ef- fected such a change in Mr. jameson he was forced to resume that task again, with all haste, and make the most of the scant interval which was left before the hour of morning serv- ice should call him to minister to his flock. Truly the ways of Providence are inscrutable. Mrs. Duncan had never known her lord and master to be as irritable as he was throughout the day. And yet he who figured most prominently in those exceedingly con- flicting reports’ was convinced by mid-afternoon, that there was one house where rumor had not yet come. The street that had led him there, chosen for reasons of obscurity, had 'Ptoved to be beset with comment and curiosity. But as he climbed the steps of the renovated old Landis place, searching the girl's eyes for a sign of apprehension, he surprised ncthing but a serenely intimate gleam of welcome therein. She was busy sewing. “A shocking Sabbath desecration,” she named it, “—but it's really become a habit with me. Sunday's about the only time I've had, for a number of years, to repair rips and tears. And I'd never have a whole garment to wear, if T left it to Louise.” She was all in white—some sort of fluffy white stuff that stuck out quaintly in the skirt. How often she had sewed like that, in the other years. She was always repairing this old garment or that, but always light- heartedly, always with optimism, in spite of the doubtful success of many previous ventures. She had even patched him up, when he became too ragged. Jimmy Gordon! That took him di- rectly to thoughts of those two Broad- way successes—and Carl Hardy. He sat staring down at his feet, pon- dering absent-mindedly — wondering if it would make any difference to her if she were to know that it was Gordon James, that highly success- ful though elusive playwright, who sat there, instead of Jimmy Gordon, black sheep, ne'er-do-well, the town's reproach. i Immediately a great temptation be- set him—a temptation to abandon that ill-starred and erStwhile miser- able identity to his ill-chosen ways. As Gordon James (he shook his head, denying to himself that there was any lurking thought of snobbishness or conceit in the inspiration) he could speak words littls becoming the lips of Jimmy Gordon, penniless, im- provident publicist. i And with that thought in mind, he raised his eyes. And then his heart bcgan to hammer in his throat. She was laying aside her work-basket. Star-eyed, lips parted, she had been Watching him. And now he followed she rose. hE‘T- ?)s" she said. “Not Gordon James, Jimmy. I want—just Jimmy Gordon —to say it to me!” 5 “Carl Hardy!” he stammvi;redl._ Hf ou. . . you knew all the time! (Dlgh;’ nodded, delightedly. ‘_‘—Eut he didn’t tell me. Do you think there was any need of explanation when he brought me that first act—the one he offered to buy from you years ago ard advised you not to sell—and atked me what I thought? Gor- s! dc‘r"“g:y‘?i'd have known it was your work, even if I'd never seen it before. I—I always used to tell you that I never could anticipate )'0. —never guite knew what you were going to do or say, didn’t 1?7 That was very, very t flattery.” d‘s.\‘;?:::ses later she raised her he:\dl and saw the glorified incredulity of his face. It brought a lump to her throat and quick tears to her eyes. “Jimmy!” she faltered. “Jimmy, as much as that! And you never even guessed? Oh, my dear, my dear! Why, 1 decided I'd marry you, years ago, the night you had to g0 away. Judze Jameson was alone in when the front door, ming, heralded his son. And Judge Jameson tried to hold his shoulders back and force a smile Lloyd entered the room, until a mpse of his son’s face startled him half erect. It promised a sensation— and the only sensation of which his slam- the L DAILY FASHION SERVICE, PLENTY OF VARIETY IN THESE NEW HATS judge could conceive at that moment |. . . left him sick with guilt. Many times Lloyd in had approached that moment and found it impossible. It was aston- iching how easily he faced it now. “ . He got caught helping us to get away.” He repeated it all, as steadily as he could. *“And that's why Garritty tried to kill him last right. I—I wanted to tell you . . . I'd have told you, long ago, only I guess there's a streak of cowardice in me, but unow you know, and he knows, too.” Judge Jameson moved ever so little. “You told him?” he mumbled. Lloyd's voice raced on, in explan- ation “He walked down from La- tham’s with me tonight. He laughed over it and said it was a funny scrape. He laughed father, think of that imagination TUnless otherwise noted, and T Iyn Latham “He's engaged to Carol Land Evelyn told him that he surely threw her down after years of devo- tien, too. d she'd try to for- give him, however, if he'd come to tea next Sunday and bring Carol Landis with him. orgive whom?™ Judge Jameson asked “Why, Jimmy—Jimmy Gordon. She was only joking, of course. And —we're going to announce both en- gagements at the me time in his paper. Jimmy says it will be an ex- clusive item—an out-and-out scoop for the Courier. I'm pri lucky. 1 didn’t think I had any chance— d now—now—" (Continued Tomorrow.) She mechanically e question. we these notices are written by the press bureaus of the theater or attractions with which they Asal HONEY BOY MINSTRELS AT PALACE. On Thursday, Friday and Saturday of this week the Palace again presents that wonderful minstrel aggregation “The Seven Honey Boy Minstrels,’ with Tommy Hyde and his excellent company of singers and dancers. Tommy Hyde was principal dancer and dancing master with the famous Evan's Honey Boy Minstrels, and to- day is 1ecognized as America’s premier soft shoe dancer. They are a big hit wherever they play, and lovers of the-old time ministrels have a real treat ‘r. store for them with the Honey Boys. Other acts on the same bill include the X L C Trio in a musical offering; Helen Morati in a high class singing number, and Demarest and Doll, real good variety entertainers. “UNSEEN FORCES” AT PALACE. The wave of public interest in the occult now sweeping the country is expected to contribute much to the success of “Unseen Forces,” a gripping mystery which has been picturized by Sidney Franklin and which will be screened at the Palace theater, open- ing for an engagement of three day: on Thursday. The story centers around a girl possessed of uncanny powers. From a eltered, naive count~y girl she becomes a popula: mediun. for New Yerk's elite. In this role will be seen Syivia Breamer, and the cast includes Conrad Nasie, Roxc- mary Theby m De tGrasse, Robert Cain and Edward Martindel. 7T prod 1ction i Sidney Franklin's initial Mayflower releas Associated Nationa! Pictures, Inc FOX’S THIS SATURDAY “OVER THE HILL® One Solid Year in New York at $2.00 Prices Box office opens at 1 p. m. Continuous Performance Saturday and Monday TODAY—CONTINUOUS BIG ANNIVERSARY BILL Thomas H. Ince’s “LYING LIPS” CHARLES WITHERS in “FOR PITY'S SAKE” Bobby Heath and Adele Sperling, Nelson and Marion; Dare Bros. “A MAN OF THE PEOPLE” “OVER THE HILL" Novelists and dramatists would Lave us believe that when the choice setween a domestic career and a stag areer 15 offered to a woman of his- rionic ability, it is the artistic career which comes out. Yet when such a ‘hoice was offered to Mary Carr some vears ago, it was the maternal .in- tinet which proved the stronger. Mary Carr is the actress who en- icts the role of Ma Benton in the William Fix special film production “Over the Hill,” based on Will Carle- on’s ‘Farm Ballads,” which comes to he Fox theater for an S-day engaze- aient, beginning next Saturday. AT THE LYCEUM. The childhood favorite, ‘*Jack and the Beanstalk,” will be the side-splitting variety vaudeville sketch leading the bill at the Lyceum the last half of th: week. Six people aré included in th ketch. Another amusing little comedy sketch The Piano Salesman,” by Mack and Bettey: Earl and Mullen have something which never fails to make a hit. ‘*‘Girls Don't Gamble, will be the feature picture. This a picture with a moral and deals wit some startling experiences in modern society life. The Hope Diamond Mys- tery and Lyceum news complete tae picture program. PALACE TONIGHT KATHERINE MacDONALD THURS, Back Again! Better T THE SEVEN ORIGINAL ‘HoneyBoyMinstrels’ With TOMMY HYDE Premier soft shoe dancer and his company of singers and dancers. Don't Miss Them! They're Great! ““UNSEEN FORCES” With CONRAD NAGEL and SYLVIA BREAMER sLAST TIME TONIGHT JACK HOXIE and CEASAR OF FRIL 1921 SAT. 2 KLEIN Presents RLS DONT GAMBLE" VAUDEVILLE Featuring JACK AND THE BEANSTALK THE PiANO SALESMAN MACK and BETTY EARL and MULEN —COMING— DEEP WATERS