New Britain Herald Newspaper, January 27, 1927, Page 14

,' Quicksands of Love Adele Garrison’s New Phase of Revelations of a Wife—— Badge and Lillian Coafront the Mysterious Mrs. Baker, | I looked at Lillian in startled In- | voluntary distaste of the request{ she had made of me. I had so violent a dislike as well as so unac- | countable a dread of Mrs. Baker, | the queer lodger on the fourth floor, | that the thought of confronting her | upon her return from the mysterious | errand, which took her out each! night, was a most repulsive one. | “Oh! I don’t mean alone,”Lillian | #aid quickly, evidently reading my aversion to the errand In my face. | “I shall be right with you. But I do | want to get a line on that dame. 1 never have seen her close up, you know." “But won’t she suspect our sud-| denly appearing out of nowhere?” I| began. | The Plot. “We won't appear out of no- where,” Lilllan countered. ~ “And | We shall have a perfectly legitimate reason for our appearance. Inour hands we shall bear somo stamped and addressed envelopes ready for the postbox at the corner.” I smiled in reluctant tribute. “I have some in my desk that I ought to have mailed,” 1 admitted. “I know i Lillian countered. “Every woman has. Come on, we'll | have to put on shoes, but I think we | ‘can tuck these kimonos up under our skirts, and then our cloaks with scarves at the neck will complete | our imitation of the charwoman's street costume.” | She led the way Into my bedroom | and we quickly outfitted ourselves | as she directed. Then we returned to the living room, and, snapping | out all of the lights save a shaded one near one of the windows, she drew me to a seat on the cushioned ‘window bench overlooking the Drive. Now we have the impression ofa dimly lighted apartment,” she said, Chatterer's Tongue Is Stilled By Thornton W. Burgess Beware you do not talk too much; Trouble always waits for such. —Mother West Wind People who make noise are bound to be s2en. Somebody is sure- 1y going to hear and be curlous and come to see what all the trouble is about and what all the fuss is about. Chatterer the Red Squirrel had forgoiten this, You know, he was in a tantrum. You know a tan- trum means flying into a great rage. There he sat on top of a certain old stump, or rather danced on top of a certain old stump, and shrieked all sorts of things because he was so angry. Now Chatterer’s voice can be heard a long distance, especlally when it is still in the Green Forest. More than one pair of ears heard that voice and stopped to listen. Sammy Jay laughed and headed straight for that old stump. He dearly loves to see Chatterer in a| temper. Blacky the Crow heard and e, too, started for that old stump. ““There must be something interest- ing there,” said Blacky to himself. “Chatterer is very much upset over something, and it may be worth | knowing about.” So he too headed toward the old stump, FLAPPER FANNY SAYS: | about. wonce he headed in that direction. |He knew that Chatterer was in a fit “from which it will be perfectly plausible for women to emerge bound for the postbox. But when we see a taxi drive up and that Mrs, Baker get out don’t make any noise getting out. I want to get down in the hall just in time to meet her casually under the big lamp.” It seemed hours that we sat wadt- ing and watching the lights of the motor cars speeding up and down the Drive. But in reality it was only a few minutes before a taxi drew up to the door of the apart- ment building and the tall, muffled figure of Mrs. Baker alighted. Mrs. Bakers Arrives. “You see,” Lillian whispered, “she dosen't stop to pay the taxi man. That either proves that she has him! by the week or month or that some one else has paid him. And Idon't think she’'s as lame as she pretends, either, or the taxi man would help her down from the car.” The last words were whispered in my ear on the way to the door, and I had no time for a rejoinder. We heard the click of the latch in the door below us as we opened ours, and walking leisurely down, stamp- ed envelopes held conspicuously in our hands, we met the muffled wo- man face to face beneath the light, She gave so violent a start at the sight of us and ducked her head so quickly that I thought she meant to rush past us with bent head. But from somewhere I mustered the presence of mind to say cheerily: “Good evening, Mrs, Baker. We're paying the penalty of forgetful- ness,” and I held up our envelopes. | She bowed courteously, but did | not speak. Instead she pointed to her throat with a dramatic gesture, and, limping exaggeratedly, went past us up the stairs. Copyright, 1927, by Newspaper Feature Service, Inc. One of his store houses had been discovered by some one and broken into But neither Sammy Jay nor Blacky ever did get there. To this aay they don't know what it was all You see, both are too smart to let curiosity interfere with their watchfulness. So it was that when Sammy was about half way there he suddenly caught his breath, alighted in a thick hemlock tree, and a mo- ment later turned and silently flew back, twice as fast as he had come. And it happened that a moment or two later Blacky the Crow did precisely the same thing that his cousin S8ammy Jay had done. Both flew in a hurry and both took the greatest care to make no sound whatever. You see, both had seen some one else who had heard the noisy tongue of Chatterer the Red | Squirrel, and was then headed in that direction. That some one was Terror the Goshawk, that swift-winged Killer | from the North. He was hungry, for he had had no breakfast. A squir- rel breakfast would suit him as well as anything he could think of. So the instant he heard Chatterer's of anger. He knew that he was he-v- ing a tantrum, and he knew too that when a person is very busy being angry he usually has little thourht or attention for anything else. It was just so with Chatterer. It | it had been possible for Terror the Goshawk to grin, he certainly would | sounds NEW BRITAIN DAILY HERALD, THURSDAY, JANUARY 27, 1927, HOLLYWOOD GIRL-EE © JOHNSON FEATURES | READ THIS FIRST: Bobbie Ransom, a demure little school teacher of 22, is anything but the flip sort of girl you would ex- pect to be “movie mad.” But that is exactly what she is. For years she has been dreaming of going to Hollywood to “break into pictures.” The only drawback to her ambi- tion to become a film star, so she thinks, 1is lack of money. Every- thing she earns slips through her fingers like water, because of her love of finery. She tries to borrow se¥eral hun- dreds of dollars from her father and her spinster Aunt Gertrude Ran- som, who brought her up, because she has no mother. But both of them refuse to lend her a cent for what the¥ call “a wild goose chase.” So does Andrew Jerrold, who's in love with Bobbie and wants her to stay at home and marry him. But she feels more like a sister to Andy than a sweetheart. Just hefore the first day of school, a certaln Mrs. Burrage of- fers Bobbie a chance to go to Holiy- wood with her and her little daugh- ter Jean. Mrs. Burrage who enjoys poor health and is a spoiled invalid, wants to go into a sanitarium while Bobbie, of course, is wildly eager to go, and when Mrs. Burrage de- cides suddenly to go to southern France instead of Hollywood, she is heartbroken. On her Burrage's way home from Mrs. house after hearing .he bad n Bobbie happens to bump Into Mrs. Parkins, a pretty well-to- do widow with whom her father fs in love. Mrs. Parkins lends Bobbie the money she needs to take her to Hollywood and pay her expenses for a few weeks. She tells her father that evening that she Is going to go to Holly- wood on her own, and he roars out that he won't let her do it. Like many fathers he scems to forget now and then that he has a grown daughter on his hands. While they are wrangling, Aunt Gertrude ap- pears in the doorway and tells him | who lent Bobbie the money to go | away. Aunt Gertrude has no use | for the Widow Parkins, and is glad of a chance to turn Mr. Ransom against her. | NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY | CHAPTER VII ‘ Silence rolled across the bright comfortable room like ice-cold fog. | Mr. Ransom, his mouth hanging | loosely open, stared first at his sis- | ter and then at his defiant young | daughter. He seemed stunned, and it was more than a minute before he spoke: “D'you mean to say, Roberta, | that you asked Mrs. Parkins to let | you have that money, when I had | expressly told you I did NOT want you to go to Hollywood alone?” up, braced for the struggle, | “I daid,” she said. “Now, look | here, I'm not two years old, Dad, | as I've been telling you for ages. And if I want to borrow money from a woman friend of mine, I| can’t see that it's any of your busi- | ness! The fact that you happen to be a friend of Mrs, Parkins has nothing to do with it, so far as I can see.” “riend!” snorted Aunt Ger- | trude, from her post between the red rep curtains in the doorway. “Friend—He's no friend of Mrs. Parkins. He wants to marry her! He's like & sixteen-y:ar-old boy, he's that silly about her! You'd| think I hadn't given the best years of my life trylng to make him com- fortable and happy. You'd think he’d be satisfied with his own lome, and not plan to get rid of it—and turn . me out in the cold to earn my llving doing office work—" She began to cry, al- though Bobble knew that deep down in her heart Aunt Gertrude was looking forward to the day when she could start work in an office. Any office is more exciting than keeping house for relatives. “Putting that woman who talks like a man and paints herselt up like an actress in poor Elsie's| place!” Aunt Gertrude went on sobbing loudly and brokenly. “A | woman who wears pearls and dia- monds when she goes to market—" And as if the thought of such a woman was too much for her, Aunt Gertrude burst into still louder and rushed upstairs with | a swiftness that was amazing in one so stout. Left alone, father and daughter faced each other. Everything about Bobbie that | night fairly breathed rebellion. The | stamp of “I will” was one every line of her lovely face. Her full heart- shaped mouth was drawn into a straight line, and Mr. Ransom noticed that it was outlined with the vermillion lipstick he had long ! forbidden her to use — but without | success. “There’s no use in our quarrel- ; | ness from all over the world. Bobbie nodded, and drew herself |11t cho hoped it might be her | | and | face, “I'D HAVE DIED ON THE VI) LIOU help it, It just belongs to me.” Turning away from the locked door, Bobble went into her own room. She switched on the light and looked at herself in the mirror of her dressing table, Her black-fringed over her face, over thick deeply golden her white neck and arms tully and criticaily. “I Xnow I'm prett herself, and she said vanity. She said it as simply and honestly as she might have said, “I know I'm blond.” She was not at all vain of her good looks, There was nothing of the peacock in her nature. But she was clever, just how pretty she was. thanked Fortune for a face that might become her fortune — in Hollywood, that market for pretti- At eyes went her hair's waves, over thought- * she said to fortune, As she stood there looking at self, the daorbell rang. Andy,” Bobbie herself, and started down the long flight of stairs that led into the front hall. 0 The light from below struck up at her as she came down, and Andy Jerrold, standing at the bot- tom of the stairs, scemed to see Bobble for the first time that night. That {8, he saw her then not as Bobbie Ransom, the woman wanted for his Wife—but as Bobbie Ransom, who was going to Holly- he wood to break into pictures if she | could. He had long been used to the fact that Bobble's halr was golden, that her brows and lashes were black. But all at once, reallzed how strikingly beautiful such coloring can be in a woman. He saw, too, straight and fine all her features were—the level brows, the delicate nose that tilted ever so little, the | blg shadowy eyes, the perfect mouth, and the round chin with its | deep cleft. The kind of face that would doubtless show flawless and enchantingly lovely on the sllver screen, “Why, she'd be a knockont, the movies!” It came to him like a blow between the eyes. He made up his mind then not to try to keep Bobbie from going to Hollywood any more — that he had no right succeed gloriously. But within five minutes he had forgotten his resolve, and with Bobbie in his arms, he was beg- ging her not to go away. “I can't let you go.” he kept say- ing over and over. His hands went over her smooth halr, over her and locked themselves around her slim walst. Now, before that Andy mever had kissed Bobbie Ransom the way he wanted to. He had always | touched her lips reverently and re: spectfully—partly because he was afraid of Himself and partly be- it without | and so she knew | And she | said to | he | he | how beautifully | in | to keep her from a | career whera she would probably | NONEY LOU"Eve. SHE TOLD HERSELF REBEL- SLY never would have left him. A kiss can tell a woman a good many things about herself. He didn’t — and the moment | passed. The moment that might | have changed things for always, | for both of them. Pt The long train was pulling | Los Angeles, | From the window in the last | car, Bobbie gazed out with eager | . into eyes at the tiers and tiers of hill- ide houses. Their roofs were as hright-colored as Christmas candy in the afternoon sunlight. Above them was a sky that was like Chinese blue enamel. Across it clouds sailed like ships. The train crossed a dusty street t Los Angeles’ Chinatown, and slid_into the station. “Well, here we are, old kid!” Bobbic spoke to herself. And then after a moment she added: | “I'm glad I came. I'm not afraid now that I've made the break— |ana Ta | I'd stayed at home.” | She thought of | Locust street as something far away—something that was only part of a dream and nothing more. {Dad and Aunt Gertrude — their | faces passed before her inward i(\\'r‘. Good, dear people. But she | wasn't lonely or homesick for | them, | “It would have been different §f I'd had a mother,” said Bobbie Ransom to herself, and got out of the train. She looked around the crowded station with its gayly dressed peo- ple, With its palm trees that give it a look of the tropics, with itr hurrying red caps. One of them picked up Bobbie's bags. Walking in a dream she fol- lowed him to the front of the sta- tion, where he thrust her luggage into a cab. “Hollywood.” The magic name fell from Bobbie's lips like a pearl of great price — Hollywood, the | most wonderful words in the lan- guage. without turning his head. “Of course!” Bobbie found her- | self blushing foolishly. She looked quickly down the column of | “Rooms for Rent" ads that she had found in a newspaper on the train. She had marked one of them — lan address on Las Palmas street, where room and cooking privileges were offered for the modest sum of $8 a week. She gave the driver the address, |and with a jerk and a throb of the | cab, they were off. Through nar- |row mean streets to wide shining ones that were lined with all sorts | of glittering shops. Then suddenly they turned into a broad boulevard that swung up a hill. At the top, a low almost flat plaih opened out before them —and beyond that a low-lylng crescent of purplish brown hills. “What a big town Los Angeles " Bobbie exclaimed, moving into one of the jumpy seats of the cab so that she could talk to the have died on the vine if | the house on “Any address?” asked the driver, CHAPTER VIII The yellow cab pulled up in front of a house that'did not look at all like an ordinary rooming house. It was large and spotless with white paint. In all of its shining square-paned windows were clean white curtains, and before it stretched a smooth green lawn bordered by a three-foot hedge of geranfums with big velvety red blooms glowing among its green | leaves. On the porch were willow rock- ers and a willow settee piled with soft-looking cushions of flowered cretonne. There were magazines on a wicker table. # Only one thing—a small square sign tacked beside the street num- ber—betrayed the fact that the house was anything but a private home. That sign read simply “Rooms." d Bobbie went up the steps, after a short look around her, and rang the doorbell. It was answered by a middle- aged woman who wasn’t so tall as she looked to be, Her hair wa4 gray. So were her tired eyes. So ‘was her house.dress, and even her skin seemed to have taken on a faint tinge of gray. She was as colorless as her house was gay and cheertul. Bobble glanced from her to the | folded newspaper in her hand. “I came about a room to rent,” she said, her voice faltering a lit- tle. “Oh, yes.” The woman's voice was llke her eyes—tired and gentla “It's up here,” she said, “at the head of the stairs. Come right| along." Thers was a fresh, airy, clean smell in the house, and the stairs and the upper hallway were just as spotless as the outside of the house had been. “Here's the room,” the gray-look- ing . woman said, and opened a white door at the head of the stalrs, Bobble stepped in ahead of her. Tt was a large square room lighted by two front windows. The floor was waxed and there were green- blue rag rugs on it. The sheer white curtains were bound in green-blue volle, The furniture was painted a soft green-blue, too. There was a smell of fresh paint in the room, and the woman laid a work-hard- ened finger on the foot of the bed. “Dry as a bone,” she remarked. “I painted it m: f last week. Put three coats on it.” There was a little thrill of nride in her voice when she said it. “I learned how to do it last spring, when we had an interior decorator living here with us,” she added plaintively. *She got a job in one of the studios and took a flat by herself.” Bobbie gazed all around thej room. She remembered how Aunt | Gertrude had warned her not to take any room until she had thrown back the bed covers to see | if the mattress were clean, and to be sure to peep into the clothes jclosect to see if that were clean nd sweet smelling, too. She knew she ought to do these things. But, somehow, she couldn’t | ydo it with the landlady standing | there looking at her with proud, pathetic eyes, “Would you like to see the bath- room?" she asked in her tired voice, and Bobbie followed her to a bathroom almost as large as the front bedroom itself. The first thing she noticed about | it was the quantity of towels in it. | There were six towel racks and five of them were loaded with | clean towels. The sixth was empty. “This would be your Miss—" she said. “Ransom,” Bobbie told her, and she went on: “I have three young ladles living with me now, The other two racke belong to Mr. Mangan and me. We all have to use this cne bathroom, so everybody in the house has a special time for com- ing into it in the morning. And we always have plenty of hot| water. I had a new heater put in last winter. I always say there's nothing so dreary as a luke-warm bath, unless it's luke-warm coffee.” “This ad said ‘kitchen privi- leges',” Bobbie sald timidly. “Does that mean I could get break- fast in your kitchen?" “Yes, and any other meal you wanted to cook for yourself,” the landlady answered. “But there's one thing I won't have in my house —and that's cooking and eating in the bedrooms, I won't have food kept any place but in the kitchen. I've got boxes downstairs where you can put the things you buy.” As she talked she started down the stairs once more, and Bobble followed after her. Through a shining, well-fur- nished living room, through a din- ing room that was fairly alive with sparkling glassware in glass ~up- boards they went. The kitchen at house was like fairy-story books rack, the back of the the kitchens in for children. ! The | overlaid landlady broke in upon .r thoughts, “So he's nsually asleep or gone when the young ladies who live with me are here. You'll find you'l be very comfortable and quiet here, Miss Ransom, if you care to take the room.” Bobbie wondered if “Mr. Mangan” were the landlady’s hushand. Probably. “You never serve meals your- self?” she asked, The woman shook her gray head. “Oh, no," she said, with her first show of spirit. “I've enough to do, taking care of the house without bothering with a lot of ceoking. I never did like to cook much, anyway. If 'twasn’t for can openers and delicatessens, Mr. Mangan would go hungry half the time, 80 he says." Bobbie decided then that Mangan” was her husband. “I think I'll take the room,” she said, “I'll have the taxi-man bring in my luggage right now, if it's all right.” Then she remembered her trunks, and sent the taxi-man back to the station with the checks for them, By six o'clock she was all set- tled in Mrs. Mangan's front room. The books she had brought with her were on a shelf between the two windows, her dresses were hung in the closet like limp ghosts, and her underthings were piled in the drawers of the dresser, with luxurious little bags of violet sachet powder tucked among them, Brushes, perfume, powder boxes were set out on the blue-green dresser, and on the bracket- shelves at the side were two photo- graphs. One of her father, and one wyp, | ot Andy Jerrold. She had cut the photograph of Andy from the sports page of a newspaper ten or eleven years be- fore, when he had been a high- school football player and she had been a hero-worshiping little girl. The picture showed him in foot- ball togs with his hair in wild dis- crder and a broad grin on his muddy face. For one fleeting second Bobby's heart ached with longing for him, and her eyes clouded and softened. Then, suddenly, they hardened as she remembered how Andy had re- fused to lend her a red cent to bring her to this wonder-city of Hollywood. “No,” she told her self firmly, ve found him out. If he'd really cared two pins about me he'd have wanted me to come here to try my wings. But he's selfish! He'd been perfectly happy if I'd stayed at bome and married him, and cried my eyes out over a dishpan all the rest of my natural life! Men—" Her scorn took in all men, from Adam right down to Andy Jerrold. Men—they loved a woman, not to do things for her, but only be- cause they were thrilled by her. They fell in love, not with Ler brain that made her ambitious and Interesting, but with her bodlly beauty. “Andy,” thought Bobbie, stand- ing Dbefore her mirror. “He wouldn’t Jove me a bit if T didn't have yellow hair and brown eyes and a dimple. He wouldn't!” And yet—if she got into the moving pic- tures wouldn't it be because of the dimple, the brown eye: and the raw-gold Thair, too? Good looks were important, after all, To a woman at any rate. She couldn’t get very far without them, it seemed, in this world. 8he decided to go out into mellow late afternoon, and the houlevard. Hollywood boulevard! words chanted themselves over and over in DBobbie's excited brain as she put on her hat and her mouth with vermil- lion lipstick, the kind that doesn't come off. Just as she was turning to pick up her handbag from the bed, a knock came on the door. Mrs. Mangan stood there with two of the potted geraniums from the kitchen in her hands, “I thought these might brighten up your room a little," she said, & small smile on her face. *“You can set them on the window-sills, if you want to.” When obbie turned around from the windows, she was still standing In the doorway. One of her hands was outstretched. “I'm afraid I'll have to ask you for your first and last week's board now, in advance,” she sald briskly. Bobbie was surprised that she was, all at once, “Why—why, of course,” she an- swered. “But why do I have to pay for the last week I'll spend in this room, now? Do you mean I'm to pay you for two weeks?"” Mrs, Mangan nodded her head gently. “Yes, dear,” she said. “If you knew Hollywood the way I do, you'd understand why I ask for it. the world—and a lot broke. They just sell they have, and then without paying me. These who come out here, thinking they're going to set the world on fire in the movies—poor things!"” of 'em go everything girls get | something to eat along the famous | could be as business-like as she ! Folks come here from all over ! they leave | certainly. She knew. she hadn't said a word to Mrs. Mangan about wanting to talk to this girl about movies. But the girl linked one of her arms in Bobble's arm, and started oft down the front steps with her. “I'm going to eat, too.” she said ds they_ turned toward the boule. vard, *Bo I'll hop right along with you—unless you'd rather be alone.” { “Oh, no. Love to have you, fibbed Bobbie like a lady. (To Be Continued) All the dreadful and discourag- ing things that can happen to a girl who tries to play the picture game alone — S8tella Delroy tells them to Bobble in the next chap- ter of “The Hollywood Girl." Your Health How to Keep It— Causes of Iliness ; BY DR. MORRIS FISHBEIN Editor Journal of the American Medical Association and of Hy- gela, the Health Magazine Among the newer methods of treatment for tuberculosis which have been widely discussed in the { public press, the secret remedy de- veloped by Henrl Spahlinger of Geneva, Switzerland, has received | most attention, unless it be for that recently given to the gold treatment | developed by Mollgaard, Today the general medical opin- fon is that the Mollgaard treatment has but a limited field, and is cer- tainly not established as a specific method for the treatment of tuber- culosis. Seck Federal Support The Spahlinger method has re- ceived much attention in England, where attempts have been made to obtaln for it government support and considerable money endow- ment. Dr. Thomas Nelson discussed re- cently ten cases of tuberculosis treated by Spahlinger personally in 1913. It occurred to Doctor Nelson to find the condition today of the ten patients who were treated by Spahlinger at that time. Of the men and women injected with his remedy, the ages varied from 18 to 50 years. All the cases, except two, were tuberculosis of the lungs, jand these concerned one case of spine infection and one of tubercu- | lous infection of the skin called | lupus. The patients received varied amounts of the remeay during the period of a year, one receiving three injections and several more than twenty-five injections. Of the patients studied, the one with lupus, was still alive after ten years. It Is well known that such patients do not tend to develop the severe form of tuberculosis of the lungs some- times seen in others, The same was true of the patiert with tuberculosis of the spine. One of the patients with tuberculosis of the lungs could not be found, but of the remaining seven all were dead. Found No Tmprosement | Tt was the opinion of Dr. Nelson that none of these patients showed any improvement after treatment, at least cortalnly no more than is regularly seen with ordinary care. The Spahlinger treatment must he considered as in no way estab- lished and not worthy of considera- tion by any American who may feel that he ought to go abroad to se- cure injections either in England or in Switzerland where they may be available. Menas for the Family BY SISTER MARY Breakfast — Orange juice, cereal, thin cream, coddled eggs, crisp gra- {ham toast, milk, coffee. | Luncheon — Bean stew, graham rolls, celery and apple salad, spice cup cakes, milk, tea. i Dinner — Roast spareribs, scal- {loped sour kraut and mashed pota- toes, stuffed kumquat salad, rye ‘:lr!‘ad, canned apricot ple, milk, cot- ce. The bean stew suggested in the luncheon menu is a happy combina- tion of fresh vegetables with the jdricd beans. Any variety of beans fcan be chosen although limas are used in the rule given. Bean Stew On cup dried lima beans, 1 cup sliced raw potatoes, 1 cup diced raw jcarrots, 3 tablespoons butter, 2 cups strained canned tomatoes, 1 medium |sized onion, 1 teaspoon salt, 1-4 tea- |spoon ‘pepper. Wash and look over beans. Let stand in cold water to more than |cover for six or eight hours or over night. Drain and put into Kkettle with cold water to cover. Bring slowly to the hoiling point and sim- mer for one hour adding water as necessary to keep beans covered. Melt butter, add onion cut in thin slices and simmer for fifteen min- { have grinned when he came in sight {of Chatterer. Chatterer was dancing | about and scolding and making o The cupboards were filled with blue and white china, and the Bhe took a quick look at Boh- ling “about this any more, Dad,” bic's face as she silently counted she said firmly. “You've got to driver. She was too full of excite- cause Bobbie always took him in . ment to keep silent. such a sisterly._matter-of-fact w. |utes. Add mixture to beans with pe- tatoes and carrots. Cook until vege- ©1827 BY NEA SERVICE. INC. | ‘When a girl marries into money, the honeymoon turns out to be a barvest. Ducky Tucks Finely tucked leather inserts add in- | terest to this smart Russian boot of eordovan leather, | prising leame ¢ | each | dodg great rumpus. He was so busy bout it that he wasn't paying any ttention to anything else. Like a streak Terror shot forward. fis great curved. needle-sharp claws were get and ready to seize | hatterer. What warned Chatterer | even he does not know. But at the very last Instant he broke off seold so short that it just as if he had bitten off his own tongue; and at the very same instant he didged over the edge of the old stump. With a swish Terror past, stopped himself with sur- suddenness, turned and | ck. Chatterer dodged nd the trunk. Two or three ! Terror alm t him, but time Chattrer succeeded i him. At last he was close to the entrance and darted in, He was safe, Terror didn’t hang around. He knew that that would be a waste of time, Like most of those who hunt, he {s something of a philosopher. I'll get him some other time," said | Terror to h ind shot away to look for a breakfast elsewhere. As for Chatterer. he didn’t come out of that old stump again uniil | afternoon. And when he did come out he was strangely silent. His tongue was stilled for once. (Copyright, 1927, by T. W. Burgess) te | re time o | The next stor; itefoot Lives | in Peace,” make up your mind that I'm not a child any more, but a woman. And | not only that—but I'm not the kind | of woman my mother wa You | say, yourself, that she always| wanted to go on the concert stage | and you wouldn't let her. Well, | you can’t stop me from doing what | I want to do as easily as that. | You can't stop me at all. I'm| going." Before he had a chance to an- swer, she backed out of the room | and followed her aunt up the stairs. | She had some idea of going into | her room to comfort her. But the | door was closed and locked and | from behind it came the sound of rustling paper and then the bang- ing of a dresser drawer. When Aunt Gertrude was upset she usually ‘“worked it off” by | tearing some part of the house to | pieces and putting it together again. Three or four times a year, between regular house-cleanings, | would wash and wax all the floors in the house or whitewash the cellar. Not because those things needed to be done, but Fe- | cause she wanted to “work off” a | fit of temper over some trifle. A | queer woman, Aunt Gertrude—and | not at all pleasant to live with, cven if she were an A-1 cook and housekeeper. “I know I have the temper of a fiend,” she admitted | In her softer moments, “but I can't | sh Perhaps it would have been bet- ter for him if he had been a little more natural and gusty in his love- making. He might have awakened Bobble to the fact that she loved him with her senses as well as with _her heart. To the fact that he was a man and a lover as well as a tried and true friend. But he never had Now, tonight, all at once he was swept off his feet, Perhaps e- cause he knew that she was going away — and that tomorrow night all the warm loveliness that he held now in arms would be lost to him, for six months at least. He kissed her as he never had ed her before — as if she be- longed to him. Until her mouth was hurt and bruised when she tore herself away from him and faced him, flushed and panting, under the dim hall light. “Don’t ever do that—again!” she d. She sald it in a whisper be- e her father was just behind closed door of the living reom. don’t want to th “I won’t have it! I be made love to." But while she was saying it, she could feel herself trembling under the warm wave of tenderness and longing that was sweeping over her—longing to have her into his arms again and kiss her as the One Man kisses the One Woman. If he had taken her then, the chances are that she Andy take | “This ain't Los Angeles” the driver answered. “We just ° ft iL. A. when we came through the Tunnel. This here is Hollywood.” “Hollywood!"” Bobbie echoed. She | wondered if the sight of it had ever | meant so much to anyone before as it meant to her at that moment. Shu was sure it never had. She glanced at the meter of the cab. It registered almost two dol- lars. But with a sudden toss of her head, she made up her mind to for- get to pinch pennies on this day of all her daye “Before you take me to Las Palmas street,” she said, ‘“drive me past one of the movle studios. | I've never seen one in my life!” “We're golng to pass one right up here on Sunset boulevard in just a jiffy,” the driver tossed back to her. “So keep your eyes peeled —right here on the left. See?" Bobbie looked. The long low white bullding looked more to her like an art museum than anything . Before it stretched a smooth green lawn, It was a big handsome building, and that was all. But to Bobble Ransom it was a place of magic and mystery—a holy of holies—a wonder and a terror all at once. Her heart beat like mad long after it was out of sight, and ‘ie driver was turning into Las Pal- mas street. shelves were all trimmed with lace paper. There were thin curtains of blue- and-white ginghamn in the sunny windows, and on the sills were polted pink geranjums. A canary sang in a brass cage on the porch Just beyond the screen door, and on the floor three tiny cats were asleep in a triangle. The rugs were oval rag rugs of blue and white, and, there were blue and white ruffled cushions in the two white rocking chairs, A brown tea-pot on the gas-stove sent & cozy bubbling sound i to the warm air, The landlady opened the door that led down iInto a basement. Just within it was a shelf, and on the shelf were four large tin boxes ted white, My young ladies keep their food in these boxes, and they can keep them padlocked if they want to,” said Mrs. Mangan, “Not that they do—any of 'em.” Bobbie looked at her speechless, and wondered if the young lagles were as old-maidish as Mrs. Man- gan herself. More than that, she wondered how on earth this spot- less place looked when there wen four or five women in it, all cook- ing at the same time. And how daid “Mr. Mangan,” whoever he was, feel in a house so full of fe- males as this one apparently was? out sixteen dollars from her bag. And suddenly, as her eyes passed over the smooth white skin, thick black lashes that lay on ihe curve of the cheeks, the heart shaped mouth with its lacquer-red coloring, a thought scemed to strike her, “I'll bet you're here to get into pictures,” she said, “aren’t you?” Bobbie's brown eyes with thcir golden lights, looked up at her. “If T can,” she said quietly, Mrs. Mangan looked disgusted. “You'd better talk to Miss Del- roy, who lives here with me,"” remarked, “Her right name is Riggs—Stella Riggs. But Delroy's the name she picked when she came here to get into pictures. That was two or three years ago. She still thinks she's going to make a name for herself.” She closed the door and went down stalrs, and two minutes later Bobble went down, too. On the front porch was a slender little red-headed girl. 8he was reading one of the film trade maga- zines, and as Bobble pushed open the screen door she looked up from it, Then she got up. “¥ou're Miss Ransom,” she said fn a high fluting volce. “Mrs. Man- gan says you want me to tell you what I know about getting into pic- tures. I'm Stella Delroy.” “My husband works nights” the “Wby, yea" Bobble answered un- the | she | tables are tender and add salt, pep- per, and strained tomatoes. Bring to the boiling point and serve. The beans can be rubbed through a colander to remove the skins be- fore the vegetables are added but care must be taken that the stew does not burn while the cooking con- tinues. (Copyright, 1927, NEA Service, Inc.) ALWAYS DEAD TIRED? How sad! Sallow complexion, coated tongue, poor appetite, bad breath, pimply skin and always tir- ed. What's wrong? You are poison- ed. The bowels are clogged and liver inactive. Take this famous preseription used constantly in place of calomel by men and women for 20 years—Dr. Edwards' Olive Tab- lets. They are harmless yet very effective. A compound of vegetable ingredients and olive oil. They act casily upon the bowels, free the sys- tem of polson caused by faulty elim. ination and tone up liver. Be beautiful. Have rosy cheeks, clear eyes and youthful energy that make a success of life. Take Dr. Edwards’ Ollve Tablets, nightly. Know them by their olive color, 15¢, 30c and 60c, 1 )