New Britain Herald Newspaper, July 8, 1927, Page 18

- Love’s Embers Adele Garrison’s Absorbing Sequel to “Revelations of a Wife” Beginning a New Serial—————————’/ Ld4llian Sees Clouds Gathering Over Madge and Philip Veritzen. .1 often have had occasion to mar- wvel at the almost psychic powers of observation which Lilllan possesses, | so I was not startled when, as we | followed Philip Veritzen and the inn proprietor up the stalrs to the top- ‘most balcony, I heard her murmur: “Don't let him spoil your day, | Madge. Of course he's deliberately | pulling this stuff to see if he can't get your temper to scale the fence, | jut try.to tether your nanny it you Tan.” Mr. Veritzen was far enough in advance of us for me to be sure| that no word of her carefully low- | ¢red mumbling could be heard by | him. My answer was brief, and, I , believed, equally fnaudible. “Don't wort id, “I've put on an extra triple strengta chain.” | “At-a-girl!” she whispere Veritzen turned and vegan to de- | scend the steps toward | “I'm sor he said as he| reached us, “I didn't realize I had | left you so far behind | “We'll . try to forgiv this | " Lillian laugt was | grateful for the rejoinder. was | 1rving to recall something which | her muttered warning to me had | suggested, and when it at last came | t6 my mind, I was in a0 mood for | ¢peech. | 7t was & quip atiributad to Philip as Mr. * %6 had uttered. ! ‘Unless he's seen her in a tem- . a man never kinows whether a aw's worth th effort to win he had said, and .he atrocious little speech had been widely quoted indicative of the ,philosophy of producer, whom 1 knew cynic had called the | as the great more than one “Great Philanderer. | Was it possible that he was try- ing that experiment—wi‘h a sudden rush of common sense and abashed scorinfi of my egotism, I came back to sanity as we ascended | the last steps of the balcony. But| the prints of my finger nails which | I had dug into my palms in those seconds of intense anger remained for a long time, “Now,"” said Mr. Veritzen, con- ducting us to the balcony railing, “here is a real view.” I agreed with him as I followed his gaze. The hill upon which the inn was built sheered off so precip- itously just beyond the balcony where we were standing that it there had not been a solid rock formation bencath the grass carpet the building would have tumbled into the ravine below us. Across the steeply sloping ravine there was a level stretcn of ground along which ran the highway. A few feet beyond, the groind began to dip again, and continued in a downward sweeping slope to the shores of the distant Hucson. It was a view breath-taking in its beauty, and 1 stood silently rev- eling in it until Lillian touched me on the shoulder “You- can' get jaggel o so early in the day,” n views laughed. “Come on, let's get primped up for | dinner.” I followed her appointed room with dressing tables, cont: to me, the stock-in-t parlor. We had the selves, save for the ¢ far end of the room, had removed the du into a beautifully mirrors and ning, it seemed de cf a beauty place to our- tendant, at the of our jour- itzen which I had no doubt that ney, and given a renovating touch | to the hair and complexions, Lillian, making sure that the woman was out of earshot, whispered “You simply must pull you gether, Madge. I know what' at beastly old epigram about angry women, which I have no man- ner of doubt he uttered. But for the affection of Alraham, don't let him see that any action or word of his can affect you. There's troubl enough ahead for you with that lad o | an | without going out of your way to | meet it." 27, Newspaper vice, Inc.) (Copyright, 19 ture LITTLE MISS CURIOSITY'S NEW HOME. By Thornton W. Burgess A kindly word, a gentle hand, Will trust and faith at once com- mand. —0ld Mothsr Nature. Little Miss Curiosity, the smallest | of the children of Polly and Johnny Chuck, who had started cut by her- self to see the Great World, was & | prisoner, Farmer Brewn's Boy had caught her on the edge of the corn- field and now he was holding her and | gently stroking her. He could feel the thumping of her heart. “You poor little thing!” said he. “You have nothing to he afraid bf. 1 wouldn't hurt you for the world, nor would allow any one cise to hurt | vou. No, sir, T wouldn’t let anybody | lurt you the least little bit. But| vou are altogether too small & Chuck to be wandering around all +alone. You must have run u\\uy} from home. I suppose I ought lo’ _take you back there, but probably you ‘would do the same thing over | again, So 1 am going to take you home. There you'll be safe until you are big enough to look after | yourselt.” All the time he was talking, FFarm er Brown's Boy was geniiy stroking | Lit‘le Miss Curiosit Her heart no Jonger thumped so wildly. Somelow | or other she didn't fecl so dread- | fully scared. Once mor: curiosity was taking possession of her. Never had she besn so high up hefore. Never had she seei so much of the Great World as she could sce now from Farmer Brown's Eoy's hand. Up the Long Lane Farmer Brown's Poy took her. Straight over to the house he carried her ind into it * Mother Brown was working in the kitchen. “For goodness' sake, what have you there? A rat?” she cricd, backing away “No,"” replicd FFarmer Brown's Boy “I've brought you the cutest pet you | w ROOMFUL, For thoroughness use Tanglefoot Spray for kill- ing fliesand other common household insects whole- sale, It is the most power- ful insecticide that can safely be used. It gets them all. None can escape or revive, 095 | uart, 81 25; pint, 75, 50¢: Sipe: SPRAY THE TANGLEFOOT COMPANY Grand Rapidi Hlehllnn / ¥ s » She seized the cookies in little black hands. ever had. It is a little Woodchuck. I think she wants a codkie.” Mother Brown went to the pantry 2nd came out with a molasses cookic She held it close to tha nose of Little Miss Curiosity. Little Miss Curiosity tried to back away, but Farmer Brown's Boy held her closely and she couldn't. delicious in the tickled her nos how good it wis! to water. to wa . anything like way of an odor oh, my, my, my, Her mouth began mouth began lad she smelled that before, but with- ver |out knowing anything about it she knew it was good. She nibbled it. My, it was better than the sweetest sweet clover she had cver tasted. She forgot everything that had hap- pened. She forgot where she was. She forgot to be afraid. Nothing mattered now but that cookie. Gently Farmer Brown's Boy put ner down on the floor. She s the cookie in her two little black hands and there sat nibbling it as fast as her little jaws could go. She looked so cute that Mother Brown laughed right out. That was all that Farmer Brown's Boy nted. He knew thet Mother Brown wouldn't object to keeping Littie Miss Curiosity as t “Well,” said her out to the “Why not while?" 1 1 he, 1 g barn save her in here f asked Mother Brown. * Blue Cornflower son's favorits cxploited in this la navy blue colors. wilan with a | cornflower pos crown 1 when we| Fea- | her two | Then something | s I'll take | silk | at the front of the NEW BRITAIN DAILY HERALD, can fix a box with a bed for her in here.” Farmer Brown’s Boy chuckled down inside. “All right,” said he, “if you'll promise not to let her get out and run away, we'll try kecping her in here. I'll fix a bed for her back of the stove.” So Farmer Brown's Boy fixed a bed for her back of the stove and Little Miss Curiosity, having had so much excitement and fifght, was tired enough to go right to bed and sleep. She didn't know it, but she now had a new home. (Copyright, 19 by T. W. Burgess) “Black The next story: Pussy Backs Up.” Your Health | How to Keep It— Causes of [liness l SR BY DR. MORRIS FISHBEIN | Editor Journal of the American Medical Association and of Hygeln, | the Health Magazine The most recent bulletin ssued | by the National Tuberculosis asso- v have re- e, or whilc | tuberculosis, after the | covered from the disease, |it is in an arrested state. | When the person leaves the hos- pital or the sanitarium he mu: adjust himself mentally and p to the changed conditions of In the sanitarium he has been to rest most of the time, but | eally lite. able once in side the walls of the institution, the dominant note of his existence is work. He has not been allowed to leave the sheltering walls of the in- stitution until his robustness, his | color, and weight have convinced | the authorities that he will be able to sustain the burdens of normal | exdtence, He will probably appear to all ordinary observers more healthy than most of the people around him who have never suffered with tuber- | culosis. They will naturally expect much of him, and he will probably try to meet their expectations. This |is a scrious error. On the other hand, the patient may still fear his | disease and be of rest so that any type of work | wil seem burdensome to him. This lattitude ot mind also requires re- adjustment. { The patient who comes back to ordinary life after a long period in | & sanitarigm must have work that | wil be sufficient to provide a living | for himself and perhaps for a fam- | ily, but which will not bring about | {a physical breakdown due to excess | patient should try to return to his old occupation, unless this has been such as to be directly associated with the attack of his disease. I his | physical capacity is not up to what it was before his illness, the work his newer capacities. Whenever a patient who has had a long period in a sanitavium re- turns to daily life, he should have opportunity for frequent medical consultation. This is necessary in order that the effects of the work on the patient may be regularly de- termined and his activities regu- llated in accordance with these measurcments. It is a mistake to | along without - control, for the disease is insidious and relapse may set in and gain contral hefore the patient realizes his difficulty. ke Menus for the Family crisp broiled oacon, hashed potatoes in | milk, breakfast rolls, milk, coffec. Luncheon—Chese timbales, toma- to and olive salad, green apple sauce, ginger bread, milk, tea. Dinner—Cold sliced roast beef, saratoga chips, lima beans in cream, sulud of swiss chard, peach custard, milk, coffee. Some sort of sauce should always company cold-sliced meat. Last {India chutney sauce, horseradish, | mustard or any preferred condiment can be chosen. The slices of meat |should e carcrully trimmed and ar- ed with extreme neatness on platter. Cheese Ramikins One cup grated cheese, 1 table poon butter, 3-4 cup top milk, , 1-8 teaspoon mustard, 1-4 tea- poon paprika, 1-2 teaspoon salt, | bread. Ciy bread in thin slices, trim off crust;and cut in narrow strips. Line | buttered ramikins or timbale molds with bread, Beat eggs slightly with milk, salt; mustard and paprika. Add butter and ited or finely | chopped cheese and mix well. Pour into prepared molds, cover with strips of bread and buke 30 minutes in 4 moderate oven. Serve in rami- kins or remove from timbale molds to hot platter and garnish with v | rsley, | (Copyright, 1027 Inc.) NEA § co, FLAPPER FANNY SAYS: DY IEA SERVICE. INC. S Nowadays a girl rolla down her stockings and goes to work. | ciation concerns the type of employ- | ment to be followed by people with | the routine of daily life out- | confirmed in habits | of exertion. Whenever possible the | may sometimes be modified to meet | | the thought of John Nye across the | Sally D THIS FIRST: lly Jerome, 20, and pretty and clever, is the prop and mainstay of her family in the absence of her father, who has been separated from | her mother for nine years. The family consists of Mrs. | Jerome, the twins, Beau and Millie, and Sally, herself. Mrs, Jerome is a | semi-invalld, so Sally does the housework monnings and office work for old Mr. Peevey in the afternoons. In the tlat below the Jeromes’ flat Ted Sloan, who's in love | with S ally, however, has small | interest in him except as a dancing | partner, She adores to dance. | The only man she is sentimentally ested in is young Mr. John whose real estate office is across the hall from Mr. Peevey's offi he doesn't know him, ho! | ever, and doubts that he even knows what she looks like. On a hot Monday in August, Millie | comes into Sally’s office with news that she has quit her job because ner late employer tried to make love {to her. Sally, however, knows that ‘s quitting NOT try to to her. Beau's best girl, Mabel Wilmot, has told Sally that Millie will never stay in any office | where she doesn't “get a thrill.” | Millie happens to caich a glimpse of young Mr. John Nye across the | hall and s immediately determined 10 g | sall will. Someliow she hates the idea of vampish Millie working for the | Nye. But Millie Is forestalled when Nye ;m\us his office, evidently on his way to lunch. She starts home, dis- | appointea, after borrowing $2 from Later on that afternoon Sally ashes a bottle of Mr. Peevey's | milk in the corridor, and young Nye happens along and goes to buy an- other bottle while Sally clears up the broken pieces of the first one. (NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY) P CHAPTER 1V { It was 3 o'clock that afternoon be- | fore Sally finally set the lukewarm | milk and the whole-wheat biscuits on Mr, Peev k. “Just three hours after my regu- {lar lunch time!” he snapped out at her, pushing his glasses back on his forchead and scowling up at her. }"Th\\'l\ never do, my girl. I've got | to have my food on time or not at | | s de all.’ Sally might have pointed out fo ! him that it wasn't her fanlt that he > a dentis rppointment at r lunch time, - might have reminded him that {he had not stepped into the office | until 2 o'clock that afternoon. In | fact, there were two or three sharp things that she might have said to | nim. But them. she never even thought of Her mind was so filled with s 100 happy to let ld Pecvish,” as him always—bother | hall that she Mr. F or Millie I he called All the long hot afternoon, while | she typed Mr. Pecvey's lett while she took down his slow, fussy dic | tation, her thoughts were busy with | John Nye. How old was h | married”? She was sure that hg | wasn't. He did not look like the type of man who would speak to a damscl in distress, and help her out | of her trouble, if he were married. | There was an honest, steadfast look |in his dyes that spoke and decent character. Words may lie, actions may lie, |and faces may lie, but a person’s eyes will give him away 99 times out of 100, Was he knew him bette thot Sally Jerome, who mnever had wished that of any man before in her busy life. “But he'll prob I never look at me again. So tha | th nd T may as well forget him.” | She tried to—but without any suc- | cess at all, At five o'clock Mr his sun-browned Panama, [ nounced that he was “knock off for the day | “You'd better start home carly to- night, Miss Jerome,” he said. “It's pretty hot weather, and you tired. Good night.” | As he opened the door she caught a glimpse of the office across the wll. John Nye was standing in the middle of it, talking to a young | woman in white. | He looked up and | sally’s, for just an the door swung to. | 1t was 6 o'clock before | finished Mr. Peevey's le was always advising her to start home early, and then giving her so much work to do that she could not wish T Peevey put on and an- going to his eyes met instant. Then Ily had He | t a job in his office if she can. | is dreadfully afraid that she | of an honest look ! by BEATRICE BURTON, Author 1 possibly finish it by 5:30—the time | she was supposed to leave every day. In his fussy littleeway Mr. Peevey was as heartless as a Turk. At three minutes after 6 Bally opened the door and stepped out into the shining marble whiteness of | the hall. The door of John Nye's office was closed, and she told herself that he had gone home—or perhaps the girl in white was a friend of his, and he was going to her house for dinner. Or perhaps he was taking her some place to have dinner with him. | “On, well, I can't help it. He's | nothing to me, after all,” Sally said sensibly. And just at that moment his door opened and he came out and closed it behind him. His lean brown face flashed with a friendly grin, and he held up his hand in greeting. “I was just going to knock on vour door,” he said, and to Sally the sound of his voice was a thrilling thing. “I had an idea that you might know of a secretary for me, Mine came in this afternoon after two weeks' vacation and broke the pleasant news to me that she got married on Saturday.” “Was the girl in white your retary?” Sally wanted ask, but in- stead of that she repeated: “A retary. No, I don’t believe I know |a single girl who—" She broke off, and a troubled look came into the dark blue eyes, She did know a girl who was out of a job! . . . Millie! Millie, with her soft little pussy-cat ways, her {lisp and her drawling voice, her | green-blue eyes that said all sorts of interesting things to any man who | happened to take her fancy; | perfumed clothes and her gauze | stocKings and high heels. | At the thought of Millie sitting in | John Nye’s office, under his eyes, all | day long, six days a week, that same {odd little pain twisted again in ally's breast. | She knew now what that odd little | reeling was. It was jealousy, pure | and simple. { "I know a girl who might do,” she said with an effort. It seldom oc- curred to Sally to tell a lie. Her “)\ulnml impulse was to tell the truth, no matter what it cost her, This time it was costing her a great | deal. | “She’s my sister,” she went on, her voice very low and husky, not | like the light and rippling volce that | was part of her gay charm. | John Nye's level black brows went up a bit. “Your sister,” he said. “I'm sure she'd do—that s, if | half as nice as you are. To think of | your getting old Hank Ieevey his iunch every day—" “I'll ask her to come to see you in | the morning if yowd like me to,” sally interrupted him briskly. And when he said that he would, all the | light and gayety faded out of her | face. But the man did not see it. For lie and Sally were walking down the hall towar tiny down-turned hat hid her face from went along beside him, My car's parked in the next Dlock,” he said when they reached the street, {you any place fou want to go—" | * “No, thanks! again, “I've some shopping to do. And she went on her way to the lit- | tle delicatessen in Polk street to buy a certain kind of Bohemian r | bread that Mrs. Jerome was ve fond of, brim of her him as she the Millie was not at home Sally got there at 7 o'clock. She went out and said she might be here for supper, but that she probably wouldn't,” Beau told Sally as she passed his open hedroom door on her w sick all day. I guess it's the he Anyway, T had to come home earl He was lying on his bed. His coat and shoes were off, and reading th ning paper. The was closed. Sally softly opened it, and looked in. The blinds were own and the electric fan was going. In the breezy dimness, Mrs. Jerome was sound asleep against the pillows of her bed. Edna Ferber's “Show Joat” was clasped against her nd rose and athing. I won't wake her up,’ thought Sally. “Poor thing!—I'll get something to eat when she wakes Mrs. Jerome's eyes she yawned, “Oh, it's mured, “What bread? VIl have per, 1 think, when t opened, and ou, Sally,” that you have? Rye gome for my sup- and nothing else but her | the elevator now, and | nd Il be glad to take | he was | sport section of the (‘\e-‘ door of Mrs, Jerome's room | fell with her | her | FRIDAY, JULY 8, 1927. HER MAN” HONEY LOU”* S Shoulders (s GIRLY ETC. ta drop or two of milk. Wargm it a | bit.” She raised hér face to be kissed, and closed her eyes again. “Would you like some supper, or do you feel too bum?” Sally asked | Beau, when she had slipped into her | thin bungalow apron a few minutes later. | e never been too sick to eat | yet, and I never expect to be,” Beau | |told her with cheerful bluntness, | never glancing up from Jack Demp- “Own Story."” e e Out in the kitchen there was a large puddle of water on the floor, | | where the drip-pan under the ice- | box had run over. | | “How the ice does melt this Kind | | of weather!” sald Sally aloud. While she was mopping it up, Ted Sloan opened the screen door and came into the mneat little room where the sunset glow set the aluminum pans | |and the water facets to gleaming “hke silver. Ted often came up the | back steps to the Jeromes' flat when | he heard Sully walking about in the | Kitchen. | “Hello,” he sald, and seated him- | self on a corner of the table. “Gosh, this day sure has been a blazer, | hasn't it? I never was so hot in my life, “Fierce! awful!” answered Sally, | wringing out the mop and emptying the drip-pan down the sink. “I could have done that for you,” Te¢ went on, “but you move around |so fast that I never know what | you're going to do until you've done [it.” He began to scrape out the { bowl of his pipe with his pocket | knife. Hig gray eyes were on Sally's | white face, It was damp and around the with perspiration, | forehead her hair | clung in little rings. The cheap pink i bungalow apron was turned back at | the neck, leaving her throat bare. | She got down on her knees to put [the pan in place under the icebox, {and when she arose Ted was stand- |ing close beside her. She glanced up {at him in surprise, and then some- | thing that she saw in {the sudden masterful glint in his gray eyes—made her turn sharply {away from him and walk over to the | other side of the kitchep. She could feel her face growing warm and rosy under his steady | concentrated gaze while she heated |some milk for her mother, and cut | | thin, dainty slices from the loaf of | Bohemian ry bread. | He cleared his throat [ 1v,” he began suddenly, about doing that for me ! She looked up, wide-eyed. “Doing | what?" etting supper for me—the rest of my life?” | | “Supper for you?" Sally echoed. | “Why, what do you mean?” | As they stood there, facing each other across the neat, comfortable | Kkitchen, Mrs. Jerome's voice called | | shrilly from her bedroom: | “Sally! Sally! Have you forgot- | ten me “What's that boy talking to you | about?” she asked suspiciously, | when her daughter came to her | bedside with a trayful of food. | The greatest fear in his face—in ver think Mrs, | * Sally cut him short | about 4 o'clock, | v to her own room. “I've been | KINDNESS “wHYl How-do-you-do, Mrs. Lady-bug!” Emily said. “You seem lost.” The little bright red lady-bug was walking up and down the stem of a flower. The Aower was in a vase on Mother’s table. Up and down, around the leaves, then up and down again went the tiny bu;: “I believe you are hunting for out-doors!"” said Emily. “I'll just belg,yml a little bit.” she lifted the flower out of the vase very gently, and carried the Lady.bug outside. It couldn't thank Emily . ... s0' ixflew-w:ly_..bmfimnth it was glad. she mur- | | |Farmers Have Third Jerome's life was that someone would marry Sally and take her away. For besides being a daughter, Sally was so many other things— | nurse, and cook and bread-winner, She was the most necessary item fn Mrs. Jerome's life. “Oh, you mean Ted?"” asked Sal ly innocently frank. “Why, h wants me to get married to him, At least, I think that's what he's been trying to say to me out there in the Kkitchen.” Mrs. Jerome gazed at her for a long minute with wet stricken eyes. “Sally! You'd never do it, would you?” she asked in a shaky voice, and Sally promised her solemniy that never, so long as she lived, would she marry Theodore Sloan! (TO BE CONTINUED) lumbering plants, fisheries, factorje: and public utilities represent a com- bined wealth of about:$6,000,000,000 ¥ Ty o GIETS PLACE ON Ah’l'i BOARD. Parls, July 8 ®—Fins and ap- plied arts meet in Krance through fadame Marie-Paule Lapauze, pub- lisher of two magazines which aim to bring art and indudtcy together. Cne' is called “The Political, Liter- ary hnd Artistic Awakening” ghd is published weekly. The otker, “The Renaissance of French Art and de luxe Industries,” is one of the most } |important art reviews in ¥rance. Madame Lapauze is th> first wom- an member of the superior board for fine arts, which with the Acad- emy of Fine Arts comprises the final authority in Frenth art matters. Of Wealth in Canada | Ottawa, Ont., July § (P—Farmers control ~lore than one-third of Can- ada’s national wealth, a bulletin is- sued by the department of trade and commerce states. “Ot @ total sational wealth Dominion estimated at § 443," says the bulletin, 000,000,000 is in the hands of farm- ers including lands buildings stock, and machinery, Urban rea | Between 80,000 and 100,000 trees accounts for $6,000,000,000, the rail- jare being distributed throughout ways for $2,000,000,000 and |the “c.der” country. i July “armers in western England are go- ling back to —owing cider-apples. The cider orchards contain a proportion of rapidly decay- trees anl in view of the de- ed :tate of agriculture, it is {planned to weed out the old trees land replant with new wood which been maturing in a “nursery” started some years ago. and good to eat Sandwiches made in a minute with Heinz Sandwich Relish may be kept fresh and dainty for hours. And they are delicious. Yet that is only one way to use this new Heinz variety—a combination of chopped sweet spicy pickles and other good things mixed with smooth, rich mayonnaise, Try it also as a stuffing for eggs or tomatoes. Mix it with grated checse for stuffed celery. Spread it on crackers, toasted or plain. Serve it with fish, or meat. Combine it with Heinz Chili Sauce or Ketchup for unusually good Thousand Island dressing. For picnics, for quick lunches, for night suppers, you'll find Heinz Sandwich Relish wonder- fully good to eat. Try it! HEINZ Sandwich Relish The New Cereal— HEINZ RICE FLAKES A Playmate for the Kiddy! Perhaps you are seeking a “pup” for the kiddy; cattle for your farm; poultry for profit, ete. If you are planning any of these, or other live stock, shop through the Classi- “Ted wants me to get married,” she said. fied columns of the Herald. The Herald Classified Section “A Well Written Ad Always Brings Results.” TELEPHONE 925