New Britain Herald Newspaper, June 28, 1927, Page 14

o 0 R A P Y o5 o s o e i T ~ Love’s Eimmbers Adele Garrison’s Absorbing Sequel to “Revelations of a Wife” Beginning a New Serial Memories of That White and Crim- |and her own long illness. 4 son Drawing Room Between that time and the present Did T remember Lillian Under- | year of Marion Morton's absence in NEW BRITAIN DAILY HERALD, TUESDAY, JUNE 28, 1927, WHAT HAS HAPPENED: Philip Wynne Tracy IV has had |a childish engagement with Natlee My Sons Stee HLUUSIRIED AND COPYRIGHTED BY JOHNSON FEATURES INC. ing when sanity came back to me I knew that I had lost you.” { *“Pat, Pat, why do you torment wood's white and crimson drawing- room? The question from her lifs as she | was showing me the big, top floor, | hotel apartment into which she' meant to move from her tiny, shabby | third-floor suite, brought such a| flood of memories to me that all the | answer I could make her was to echo the word “Remember!” with | emphasis. Before I could speak | again Phillp Veritzen struck in with | equal stressing of the word. | “Remember! My dear Lillian, who | coudl ever forget that room,” he| asked, his words invested with the | tinge of theatricalism which is al-| ways his. But I found nothing ex| aggerated In the examination. To | me the memory of it was as vivid as | its glowing reality had been, when| as Dicky's bride, Lillian, my hu band’'s friend, entertained me there. | I loved the memory of that room | now, but I remembered that when I | first saw it, I loathed it and tried | to smother my very real admiration | for it by telling myself that it was garish, flamboyant and all the other unpleasant adjectives I could evolve. Of course I had realized long sin that my first aversion to the room was rooted in the jealous dislike of Lilllan which had been mine in those early days when I had not known the reason for the high affectionate tealty Dicky gave her, nor realized | the sacrifice she once had made to “protect him from the consequences of &n inhbcent action, for the misunder- standing of which she herself was to blame. | It had taken but a short time for | that jealous dislike of mine to van- Ish, and for me to realize that I had never known a real friend before I met ‘Lillian Underwood. Her won- | Herful white and crimson drawing room and her brown-toned library had become sanctuaries to me, and Lillian herselt no more deeply than I mourned the necessity of giving up the apartment and storing her fur- niture, a necessity brought on by the housing situation following the war, school and her mother's sojourn at the old-fashioned hotel in which we wera standing, both had made their home with us when Lilllan was not traveling. It was an arrangement which we both loved, but I shared her realization that Marion, coming home from school for her holidays an! vacations, needed the back- ground of a real home of her own, and I rejoiced for Lillian as I vis- ualized the beautiful setting of her lovely child which her taste and judgment would make of the large and sunny apartment. So completely had her mention of that memory-laden room taken me back into the past that I did not realize Mr. Veritzen was speaking to me, until Lilllan tapped me smartly on the arm. “Come out of the trance, Madge!" she admonished. “Mentioning that drawing-room was like making a hypnotic pass over you. Here's Phil iying pretty things to you and get- ting a fishy stare in return.” “I'm sorry,” I stammered. —didn’t—hear—" 1 was asking £ you only why I never had seen you in that white and | | crimson drawing room in the old days,” Mr. Veritzen sald suavely. know that I never should have for gotten the picture you must have made against the background.” “Yes, it was some tintype,” Lilllan agreed: “Take your bow, Madge, it isn't often a poor woman gets a nifty like that. But 1'm not going %o waste any more of your time. We'll be getting along. All right, Bert.” She held out a coin to the bell-boy, and with a smile at his fervent thanks led | ! the way out of the suite, I, miserably | conscious that my cheeks were flam- | g with embarrassment, following with Philip Veritzen, who appeared to be losig no opportunity of sounding the personal note, when us- ually he is the soul of discretion and courtesy. Copyright, 1927, Newspaper Feature Service, Inc. Jones. Becoming interested in Lyra 'yourself? You are altogether mistak- |Hilllard, an old friend of | mother's he falls in love with her. { Natlee overhearing his making love {to Lyra, breaks her engagement. The whole affair, however, sinks into the World War. Phil is one of the first to enlist. Just before leaving for France, Phil meets Natlee again, they plan to be married. The immediate departure of the troops, however, prevents this. | Phil's regiment is sent to the front soon and he is wounded, winning the jcroix de guerre. | After the armistice Phil is awarded {a scholarship in a French university land while in Paris he comes face to | face with his mother, who has come to France to hunt him. Major Auk- {land, who is devoted to Anne Tracy, accompanies her. In talking things over, Mrs. Tracy learns with dismay that Philip in- |tends to marry a rich French di- vorcee with a four-year-old child. the marriage—until after FPhil is twenty-one. Phil compromises with his mother. (It she will refuse Major Aukland's | proposal of marriage, he will give iup Pat for two years. Mrs. Tracy agrees and Phil goes to tell Pat. Here the story further unfolds— CHAPTER L \ GOOQD-BY, SWEETHEART. GOOD-BY { Philllp Wynne Tracy IV met Ma- dam Pat just as she was going out of her apartment. “You didn’t expect me back so soon, did you dear?” he asked with a smile. lat sight of Phillip's famous smile shey herself she had been worry- ing™or nothing; that everything would be all right. ynee, darling, you do love me, !don't you? When you left me this morning I was surd you didn’t love | me any more, but now that you have |come back to tell me you do, I am sorry for doubting you.” She stopped—her intuition told her that something was wrong. “Where are you going. Pat—ainy- where in particular? ' have some- |thing very fmportant to say to you. Let's go for a walk in the Bois? Pat halted in the doorway, and in- stead of answering, she searched his face. Then she fell into step with her lover. As he walked beside her, Phillip Tracy looked at her carefully, not his |en. {nothingness because America enters | {She refuses to give her consent to | Pat’s face had been very sad, but | It would be foolish to try and !tell you that my mother has not al- |ways objected to our marriage, but this afternoon when I got back to the hotel we came to a compromise. “I am going home with her to |America fob two years. If then you lwant me, dear, I will come back to | you.” " “You won't come back. I shall always love you, but you won't come | back.” An angry color flooded Phil's face. “Don't you believe me?” he asked. “Yes, dear, I believe that you be- {lleve you will come now, but two years is an cternity to lovers, espe- cially when the ocean divides them. Some Englishman has said that ‘Ab- sence makes the heart grow fonder,’ but no Frenchman ever made such a | declaration. He would know it was not true. Wynne, I know that yor love me now, and I know that I love | you, but how long we shall love each other, I cannot tell. Don't start away from me. Iam 'not_doubting more than I am doubting myself. I cannot tell whether I shall love you next year or even next month. Dearest, it is Dbetter that neither of us should be fettered, and so I am going to say zood-bye.” “But, Pat, you cannot turn me off tike this, after what has been be- tween us.” “It is because of what has been between us that I am giving you' up. Until this morning I have been living in a beautiful dream. The past few months have been the happiest of 'my life. Today I know the dream can never come true. I am not sure |that such dreams ever come true. onciled. to you as my husband—your mothér would never be reconciled to~me as your wife, and although families do not mean much when 'one is as passionately in love as I have been, they mean a good deal when people are married and have ! time to remember and regret.” “But I will not marry your fam- {ily, Pat,” Phil remonstrated, “and |you will not marry mine. We will |just marry each other.” “Yes, dear, we would both marry cach other's family. A man and a woman may love each other singly, but when they marry they marry the !whole of each other's family. Don't shake your head, Wynne, dear. Think back and you will see ho‘\" many times the disgrace of one fam- ily has affected the other by mar- | riage. I have been married, Wynne. “My mother would never be rec- | IDA_McGLONE GIBSON\ his shoulder, she pushed him gently to the stairway. In a moment he was standing alone on the landing, and she was through her doorway. He stopd th re a moment appar- ! ently dazed and then he said, “Well, T'll be damned. He spent the rest of the night | haunting the American bars and try: ing to avoid the M. P.'s. When he | slipped into his room at Ritz and ,threw himself on the bed, he was gloriously drunk. CHAPTER LI OFF TO AMERICA For the next few days Philip's nerves, as well as his mother’s, | were rather jumpy. Phillip was all the time thinking that Pat would | either telegrath or telephone. With !a man's usual egotism, he could | not think that she would let him go without at least one more good-bye. | Mrs. Tracy had the same feeling, | and every time the telephone rang | she rushed over to it. Never before | had John Aukland left her without a lingering farewell. However, at the end of the week she saw in one of the Paris papers that Major Aukland had gone to Turkey with the Near East expedi- tion, and a friend told Phillip one | evening that he had seen Pat leav- | ing the station for Switzerland, cosf- sequently they both became calmer, if not happier. Neither mother nor son referred |in any way to the absence of Pat or John Aukland in their conversation, when they were perhaps more in cach other's thoughts aill the time than any one or anything else. Phillip had to leave Paris for two or three days to go and get his dis- ' charge papers. During that time his { mother finished up the shopping and {80 kept herself too busy to think much about anything. All the time, however, she kept ! asking herself if again she had made a mistake, for Anne Tracy had come | to see that her interference between | Phil and Natlee had been a great | error ot judgment. She felt better when on the Fourth of July they stood on the Rue de Rivoll and cheered the American | troops as they marched up that his- torical street, escorted by the crack | regiments’ of England, Belgium, Italy, Canada and Australia. Phil lifted his mother Ligh in the ! |air and said, with more pride and | enthusiam than she had heard him .express since she had met him abroad: “We're proud we're Ameri- | cans, aren’t we, young lady, and we're glad we're going home.” | *“Yes, Phil, I shall be so glad to et home that it seems to me now I | shall never want to go away again. Jerry Kenyon. Seems strange to|with the expansion of sensibility of think of Jerry making up to Natlee. |the eye and ear, with the develop- He used to turn his nose at the \ment of speech, and with the estab- thought of her fathe The | lishment of human personality and other day, how. ser, I roes a | higher thinking powers. great advertisment wh he and M- Jones were exploiting condensed milk. He seems to have a change of heart. I am satisfied I'm going to be very lonesome over here. It almost seems to me this minute that I'm coming to an allen land. I have forgotten how Americans look and act. I'll probably be ridiculous in In studyir~ braing ©f pre- historic man, the observers are. con- vinced that they were capable of many skilled acts dictated by the bare essentials of life and by the need for food and for protection. Prehistoric men were dependent for their livelihood on the pursuit of the animal. They lived a simple exist- : fonc | dreams anyway; it's too late now to my own home town. Phil turned impulsively- and put his arms around his mother's shoulder. "Mum, dear you too, are of Paris. Let's fix things up here and go back. “Perhaps we will, Phillip. To tell the truth. I feel very unsettled my- self.” Phillip Tr.icy pulled his mother to him. “Come on young lady,” he said, using the pet name he gener- ally employed when he wanted to be particularly coaxing. “Don’t let's stay here if we don't like it, just because it's America. I expect you ence 'n communities of considerable size, as shown by the fact that the vocal apparatus was rather well de- veloped. Prehistoric man had a heavy jaw and large teeth, a thick skull and a receding forehead. He was a fighter. These characteristics were essential to the type of life that held. Man has grown in humanity as his brain expanded. This expansion has taken place chiefly in the frontal lobes of the br:’ - which have to do with thought, speecch and reason. The visual, hearing and special rela- and I have the hardest fight of bur |tlonship senses have also developed. lives before us. Do you realize that|Dr. Tilney believes that the human this silly old war has taken two|brain is not even today a finished years away from us and we're got!Prodi t, b. that it will undergo still to work like the devil to get them |further evcl “fon. Indeed, he consid- back?" ers the modern brain an intermediate “You'll lave a chnce, Son, but|step toward the development of a when a woman reaches my age, two | master orzan of the future. years out of her life are gone for- ever. 'm fraid that T'll never have a chance -to make those beautiful dreams come true that I had before the war. It will never be those same take up my father’s business. I'll have to brush around and find some- thing else. Perhaps we've both made a mistake after all, Mother dear. I ould have stayed 11 Paris, where > people know better than they do here what the world has done to the young man now living. I'm coming home a stranger. What will I find here?" “You will be all right, Son, it you only find yourselt,” said Anne Tracy, softly. (TO BE CONTIN! « s » “7hen Phil and his mother arrive in America, the first person he nieets is Natlee. What happens at their meeting? Read what happens in the next chapter. Your Health How to Keep It— Causes of Iliness - UED) N BY DR. MORRIS FISHBEIN Editor Journal of the American Medican Association and of Hygeia the Health Magazine. According to the most conserva- tive experts on the age of the world, Menas for the Family BY SISTER MARY BREAKFAST — Fresh pineapple, ham omelet, radishes, graham mute fins, milk, coffee. LUNCHEON—Crab flake and to- mato salad, toasted muffins, strawe berry ple, cocoa. DINNER—Broiled alrloin steak, mashed potatoes, French fried on- ions, asparagus salad, sliced bananas in orange jelly with whipped cream, white cake, milk, coffee. Strawberry Ple One quart strawberries, § cup granulated sugar, 2 teaspoons butter, 2 teaspoons cornstarch, white 1 egg, 2 tablespoons powdered sugar, baked ple shell. Wash ‘and hull berries. Sprinkle with sugar and let stand one hour. Drain off juice. Heat juice to the boiling point, add butter and corn- starch dissolved in enough cold water to pour. Cook, stirring constantly, until thick. Add to berries, mixing lightly and let stand until cold. Turn into pie shell and cover with whits of egg beaten until stiff and dry with 1 tablespoon cold water. Fold in powdered sugar when white is stiff, Bake eight minutes in a moderate oven to brown and puff the mers ingue. Ideal after Tennis, and all outdoor sports: Yor Iced SALADA Teas cMake tea as usual, s “Pour into glass: . Revives and Stimulates) WIthoi:‘t Reaction M 1 L] |and I know, besides, there is Cheri I have to think of her. + Oh, T have so many plans for both the human family has been in e: of us. istence for more than 500,000 years. realizing that the moment a man he- gins to look at a woman critically, Bowser the Hound Makes a Discovery B8Y THORNTON W. BURGESS {Vatch your fect lest they may stray | MWhere wisdom warns to keep away. | —O0ld Man Coyote Bowser the Hound sat just out- | side his little house in Farmer ! Brown's dooryard. It was a moon- ‘ight night and Bowser couldn't tleep. So he sat outside his little douse looking up at gentle silvery | Mistress Moon and trying to point| bis nose up and bay—a thing he| Bearly loves to do on a moonlight hght. He very suddenly decided not | 0 bay. You see, he had caught a $limpse of something like a moving | thadow over towards the henyard. Bowser pricked up his ears and t very straight as he watched. | here it was again. Could it be Red- | Bowser suddenly plunged forward with a yelp ever it was who wah here know that it isn't safe to fool around our chickens, and that's all we will do.” So Farmer Brown's Boy let Bow- that moment you may be sure his | passion has begun to cool. She was not beautiful. distinguished; always exquisitely dressed, and she had the free car- {riage of an American girl instead of the French woman. Just how, how ever, she had lost much of hér'v vacity and nerve. She sénsed, be- fore Philllp spoke, that the end had come. | She told herseit that she had not thought that Phillip could be so cruel as to come back to tell her, they were to’part this morning. For the thousandth time she asked her- |self why she had kept him at her japartment last night. She tried to ' lexcuse it by thinking that she had {not wanted to send him back to the | hotel when he had been drinking so much. All at once she rcalized that he {had not told her he loved her in an- wer to her fervent question, and the color dyed her face in great waves. She was ashamed. Slightly she | “No, dear, we will never marry. Perhaps in time I will come to re- member -it even with joy." “L.am also egoti. Wynne, dear, to think you will prob- ably never forget me. Strange, isn't it, that two lives can be changed by their meeting, their short ecstasy and thelr parting?” “Don't talk that way, Pat. It would break my heart if I thought we would be parted forever. I'm coming back to you, dear. I am, surely, and if you want me, I shall |stay with you always." Pat didn't say anything. Slowly she turped around and they walked back to the house. Theré they climbed the stairway that led to the second floor. Before she opened the door to her apartment, she flung herself into s arms, holding him to her as though she would never let him £0. “But I aven't gone vet, dear,” he “Don’t talk of plans, Mother. They | |1t has been a beautiful interlude in imake me miserable. What can you the changing character of the human She was my life and I will never forget it.|plan for such a poor stick as I am?” prain during this period, Dr. Freder- | Anne Huntington Tracy looked at her boy. He was thin and she saw lines on his face that ought not to have been there until he was at leas! 20, and the tears came to her e ‘Would he ever get back his youthf"] | spirits again? | It was not until the 14th of August | that mother and son found them- selves at Le Havre, embarking for America. They were both of them leaving many happy days and many very terrible days behind, but after | | all, that is only what makes up life. ' Just as the boat edged out from the pier, Mrs. Tracy felt her arm clutched by her son. She raised her cyes to his face. He was not looking at her. He was looking over the ! crowd on the dock. Following his | gaze, she saw Pat's face turned up {to them. Anne felt a little guilty, | for Pat’s eyes were very sad and the | |tears were streaming down her | In a review of the evidence as to ick Tilney of New York points out that the volume of the thinking por- tion of the brain has been slowly in- creasing. Some of its regions have ! hecome more highly specialized so hat the brain of man today is cer- tainly a more highly effictent organ than that possessed by prehistoric | man. This does not mean that it is | a better organ than was possessed | by the philosophers of Greece two | thousand years ago. In order to obtain some evidence | as to the kind of brain possessed by | prehistoric man, Tilney has studied | the skulls of most ancient human | fossils and compared them with that of the ape. He finds these skulls in- dicative of an ability for proper be- havior far above that of the gorilla, but equally below that of modern man. | The experts in study of the brain have shown that certain portions are b ly Fox? Somehow it looked too big | cheeks. pulled away from him and found said, as he loosened her strangling or Reddy, yet it didn't look big tnough for Old Man Coyote. Bow- r kept still and waited Out into he moonlight stepped a stranger. |Pasture. Then Farmer Brown's Boy Bowser knew it for a stranger right tway. The stranger looked very much like Old Man Coyote, but he telt sure it was not Old Man Coyote “Now what does that mean? rdd Bowser to himself. “Do I see what I think I see, or do I just ima- tine it? Old Man Coyote is the only yote that has been on the Green feadows or in the Green Forest, and jho one knows it better than I do. “Certainly I Know. I've hunted all ver the Green Mecadows and the Dld Pasture many times, and never dnce have I found the scent of any foyote, excepting Old Man C it that is Old Man Coyote s Bown there, he has shrunk. Yes be has shrunk. | Bowser suddenly plunged forward | #ith a yelp. He didn't pl e lor he was chained. You see, hoonlight nights Bowser dearly oves to go hunting and so he has io be chained up. At the plunge and Jelp, the stranger turned and darted tround the barn. How Bowser did felp and bark! It brought Farmer Brown’s Boy out to see what the matter was. Bowser was greatly ex- bited as he saw Farmer Brown's Boy coming. “What ails you, old fellow?” d anded Farmer Brown's Boy. 'What are you making such a fuss tbout? Has Reddy Fox been Around ?” Farmer Brov she chain and kept his hand. Bow and pulled and so led Yarmer Brown's aver to where the stranger h: scen. Eagerly he sniffed lack and forth along the 1 his wonderful nj zcent of one who had It was the scent of a stran ser had found out what to know. His wonderful nos, him that his eyes had not him. He smelled the sceat of coyote but it was not the scent of Old M Coyote. In that instant Bowser kn that he had made a discovery. Hr knew that there was another coyots to watch out for. It was hard to be- lieve, but he couldn't doubt that nos bf his. With a roar of his great voice Bowser pulled Farmer Brown's Boy Rlong the trail of this stranger. Of Bourse, you know who the stranger Wwas. Of course. It v Mrs. Coyot: Farmer Brown’s Boy didn'’t know this and he wondered whether it was Reddy, or Mrs. Fox, or Old Man Coyote, who had been looking over the chicken yard “I'q like to let you go,” said he to Bowser, “but it I did that you Boy unfastencd end of it in would be likely to run all night. | We'll fust go tar enough to let who- | ser lead him along until finally the trail led straight away across the that he was so preoccupied with his own thoughts ¢hat he did not notice. The two walked along for quite a way In silence, and then Pat said timidly, “I know what you would vard. “It's no use, Bowser.” said he, |S3Y to me, dear, but please don't “T guess we've scared that fellow talk about it now. When you met away. But just to make sure that Me at the door, I was coming out those chickens will not be bothered | lere where I could think. to-night. T am going to fasten you | 'Wynne, once I belicved I wi Sith a long rope to a post in the |the happicst woman in the world, chicken yard. It's a nice warm night Nd now I know I am the most m and T know you will slecp comfort. erable. In my heart I have known ably.” So this is just exactly what for & long time that it could never Green Meadows towards the Old put a stop to the hunt. He made Bowser return with him to the farm- Farmer Brown's Boy did, and that night there werd no more visitors to the henyard. The next story: “Bowser Investi- TREE-TOP STORIES DISHES NDER a tall oak tree Marjor- ie found some acorns. lower part of them looked exact- ly like tiny saucers, and the upper part made a splendid cup. e Brownies must have had a tea-party here last night,” Mar- jorie said. “I guess they don't ever wash their dishes. They just scamper away and leave them on the ground for the rain-fairies to wash. “Now I'll pretend I'm a Brow- nie and take a drink!” said Mar- jorie. “I guess that would be a great big drink for a Brownie.. . . . but it was only a crop forme.” - 666 | 1s a Prescription for [ Colds, Grippe, Flu, Dengue, | dilious Fever and Malaria. It kills the germs ,be—and 1 could never be your wife, an’ because each day and each hour | |1 realized it more and more, 1 think |1 became insane. That perhaps was | the reason I asked you to come into | my apartment last night. This morn- arms a little, | “Yes, as far as I am concerned, | Wynne, this is the parting. Don't you understand, dear, that I cannot be torn by the sight of you—by the feel of your caresses, by the touch | of your lips on minc and know that 1 have lost vou?" “This is the only way, dear. I must make it final. But, oh, Wynne, vou will Lot forget me wholly? You did love me a little, didn’t you? I did make you happy—I did make you formct ai. those terrible things q during the war?" Pat's clinging arms and love voice kindled Phillip's heart to flame again. He covered her face with kisses, but she drew awmy fron. him. With her hands on you s | As alway | “As far as 1 am concerned, Wynne, this is the parting.” « J s s | " Phil took off his hat and bowed" charged with definite functions, for | formally, His mother thought he |instance With the use of the hand, | ! seemed almost glad that the parting 1 was just as it was. Neither mother nor son mentioned it to the other afterward. The episode was appar- ently closed. Phillip was a little ashamed, for,| since that afternoon on the Bois he had never tried to see Pat again. He {had not even written to tell her iwhcn he was sailing. His mother | was perfectly willing, now they were leaving France, not to mention Phil's rench sweetheart's name to him. He noticed, as he saw her on the pler, that there had been times when he had forgotten her. Soon they both turned away from | the land and faced across the sea | toward America. Both were leaving ! the past two years behind them. | Phillip characteristically was saying to himself that he had been jilted, anyway., There was nothirg else for him to do but to take it as grace- fully as possible. He did not realize that he was accepting it almost too gracefully. Mother nnd son did not talk much to each other as they sat out on the deck in the sunshine, for to tell the truth each was more than a little curious to know exactly what the homeland would mean in the next year or two, and both were trying to adj themselves to imagined ons. | Sarly one morning. Phillip came fo his mother's stateroom and i “Would you like to say good morning to the Goddess of Liberty, Mother? She looks pretty good to me, even if she is a lying old dame, with her insinuation that America lights the world with her torch of liberty. In reality, the U. S. A. is noi the ‘land of the free' any than it is the ‘home of brave “Now, Phillip,” said his mother, “don’'t be so cynical. You know the | Goddess of Liberty out there in the harbor gives every American a thrill jabroad.” | “Well, T'Il say this for her, she | gave me a thrill.” “Go up on deck, Son, and T'll be up as soon as possigle.” In a short time she stood beside | him. Their hands were c.asped to- gether and the huge statue seemed to be welcoming them home. All at once Phil turned away from her, and the mother saw his eyes grow misty. “I'm afraid it will never seem the same to me without Rod. Not one of the other fellows will ever take his place.” “There's Natlee, Phil,” Anne Tracy sald softly. i pliques of beige lmcc: 1}1 rose motifs, fon the brim and crown. as he glimpses her after a long stay | Appliqued Roses 9 to 12 WEDNESDAY 165 STRAWS SILKS SATINS FELTS . 200 MATRON HATS Reg. $5.98 SPECIAL The beige lace dress is a fashion in itself. A suggestion for a charm- ing hat to accompany it is offered in this beige ho FLAPPER FANNY SAYS: LS. U. 8. PAT. OFF. { “I'm sure Natlee has forgotten me, Mother. I have not heard from her since your arrival in Paris. By this |time I presume she has married O1927 5 MA SERVICE INE. - | 5 you're nmot on his” Iap, u're just as well off, For Miss, Matron and Children ADDED SPECIALS 3-Hour Salw» . Summer Hats 1 Values to $5 Reg. $3.95 value. $2.00 ALL CHILDREN’S HATS AT 1 PRICEj ? ] GOLDENBLUM MILLINERY CO. MAIN and COURT STREETS