New Britain Herald Newspaper, July 12, 1927, Page 12

Love’s Embers Adele Garrison’s Absorbing Sequel to “Revelations of a Wife” Madge nwomfl Apprehensive Over ili Littie Ylans, Veritzen's discu slon of hia plana for th theatrical season would La were 1. not (or an interr not know. Thrillsé¢ oy bls apparently unconscicus tribute (0 my“under- standing of his problems, 10s( in [ clnated interest at the b his thoughis transiated of rare sireng d no ides of the niny coolness, and I shi l\ered invol- untaril Mr m; "nl a sentence and rose abruptly. * he said solici- with authority, in : wrap trom the chair vhich the waiter carefully and untoided it. With- and he had lai out protest 1 me into it: itted her to hang on to rd and keep it in he -:mlmg as In_ crossed the balcony to lifting her coat m a “Come down from | to realize that it is getting’ chilly.” ically she f pencil and ished the ade an- other hen she flashed a laid down the pencil her ci.dn a glance at 1 rose leisurely held out her Veritzen was h, old dear,” ng at him. “Not alone r the chance to ¢ place. I've But sted her wrist that her eyes rested on its fac gave a little gasp of surprise. surrepfitious glance at my own a second before had shown me the | same startling information. ch and Farmer Brown's Boy's Great Surprise By Thornton W. Burgess A real surprise, you'll all agree, A good surprise should always be. —Farmer Brown's Boy Little Miss Curiosity, the hlllc{ Chuck who had been so much at home in Farmer Brown's Kitchen, had gone. She had escaped. Farm- | er Brown's Boy was sure of it. | Mother Brown was sure of ft. | Hadn’t they hunted everywhere in that house for Little Miss Curiosity. | “I must have left that door open without knowing it,"” sighed Mother Brown. “I don't remember opening that bacik door once, but I must have. Well, all we can do is to hope that no dog or hunter or fox ill get her. I just can’'t bear to think of ‘anything happening to the little | scamp.” Farmer Brown's Boy went out to the barn to do his evening chores before dark. Having finished th he returned to the house. “Where's the pail, Mother?” asked he. “I notice that some of the plants need watering.” “I guess it's over in the by the stove,” replicd Mothe Brown. “I washed up the Kitchen | floor this morning and I put it over there with the floor cloth spread around the edge to dry.” Farmer Brown's Roy went to the corner of the stove, and sure enough there was the pail, and in it was the cloth with which Moth- er Brown had washed up the floor, wasn't spread around the edge s she had safd, but | notice this. He picked up th and it struck ki hat p an usual corner over assisted | said, | before she looked up at him. | what | o | Beginning a New Serial exclaimed, from | “Five o'clock!” she “and we're hours and miles ,homo" “Not either,” an appalling number of Mr. Veritzen said. “There's ion to be declded. Shall we wealt and have supper here | nefore driving home, or shall we p at that restaurant on the Drive o\v ocking the river and the Pal- atter we get back?” “The Drive restaurant by all | means for me,"” Lillian answered de- jcidedly, "It will be moonlight to- night, &na nothing could be more | heavenly than supping there with the river just pelow. Do I know you well enough., Madge, to be sure that | you echo my sentiments?” “assuredly you do,” I told her, smiling. | “Then,” Mr. Veritzen said briskly, “we'll just have a fortifying cup of tea up here and start immediately afterward.” Lillian put her arms akimbo and stared at him. “Because you can imitate an ana- conda and still keep your ‘figger’ is 10 reason, for less fortunate people like Madge and me to try the same stunt,”” she told him impudently. You den't want tea, anyway. You'll find the drink you want on the way out whi we are getting settled in the car. So—let's go.” “ Mr. Veritzen laughed, evidently ‘vxpvrhncing the amusement with which Lillian’s Intimates receive her sallies. you wish, of course,” he said. en he turned to me. “If you don't mind helping me with these papers,” he suggested | deferentially, and I bent over the table with him, while he swiftly sep- arated his manuscripts and notes into two piles, one large, one small. | “We've gone exhaustively into | these,” he said, indicating the larger | pile, which he swiftly packed away in portfolios. “But these"—he pick- ed up the smaller bundle, fastened it securely with put it with the portfolios in the emergency bag—"'we have still to go | over.” With a sudden return to realities, I wondered apprehensively when A |and where he meant me to share in |the “going over” process. | Copyright, 1927, Newspaper Feature Service, Inc. But Mrs. Brown reached in and picked up Little Miss Curiosity reached in and picked up the cloth. Right then and there he nearly dropped that pail. Yes, sir, he near- ly dropped that pall. He whooped | joyously, what Mother or goodress sake, has got into you?" Brown. Then Farmer Brown's Boy began to laugh. How he did laugh! “Come here,” said he, “come here and look in this pail.” Mother Brown hurried over to look in the pail. There, curled up in the bottom of the pail and blink- ng up at them sleepily, was Little Miss Curiosity. She had climbed into that pail and then pulled the floor cloth down over her, so that it had idden her completely. Not once had v thought of looking in that pail. For that matter, had you glanced into the pail yop would never have suspected that a funny Jittle woodchuck was there, Son, cried ICED EA Ideal on the Shore and on all Outdoor Occasions | ik« -na mushrooms, Make tea as usual; thoroughly chill then fill into hermos boltle. = A Cool.Delicious Drink Wonderfully Refreshmg rubber bands and | 1it is not necessary to preserve | | | 1 | | add mushrooms, NEW BRITAIN DAILY HERALD, TUESDAY, JULY 12, 1927. “That,” said Farmer Brown's Boy, “is one of the greatest surprises I ever had and one of the pleasantest. Now go back to your box, you little scamp, for I have to use this pail.” But Mother Brown reached in and picked up Little Miss Curlosity. “I feel just like squeezing you,” she declared. “The idea of making us all this worry. But I'm so glad to have you back that I'm going to glve you a cockie.” So Little \iiss Curiosity lay on her back {0 Mother Brown's lap and nibbled greedily at one of those delicious cookies, such as only Mother Brown could make. And all the time she knew nothing of all the excitement she had caused. “I wonder,” sald Farmer Brown's Boy, as he watched how contented- ly she lay in Mother Brown's lap, “if she really would run away should she get out. T have an idea that she would stay somewhere within smell of those cookies. T wouldn't blame her it she did. I'd just like to try to see what she would do.” “Well, we won't do anything of the kind yet,” declared Mother Brown. She's happy here and she's going to stay here where I cdn look after her. When she gets big enough to fight her own battles we'll see about letting her out.” (Copyright, 1627, by T. W. Burgess) The next stor Is Wrongly Accused Your Health How to Keep It— Causes of [liness BY DR. MORRIS FISHBEIN Editor Journal of the American Medical Association of Hygeia, the Health Magazine Malaria has practically disap- peared as one of the great medical problems in large cities, but the dis- ease is still to be found in many rural coinmunities, particuiarly in the southern portions of the United States. Dr. J. Lyell Clarke, one of the sanitary engineers of the Illinois department of public health, finds much work still necessary to stamp out the mosquito breeding places surrounding the villages of the southern part of that state. In the hill territory of southern Tllinois there were about three cases of malaria for every 100 persons. In the river valleys and creek bottoms malaria was found to be highly en- demic, averaging 15 cases for every 100 persons. The worst infection was always found in the immediate vi- cinity of some lake, pond or marsh which could be the natural habi- tat of the malaria mosquito. The district extended about a mile in every direction from the pond, which marked the range of flight of the mosquitoes. Country club ponds must be watched particularly, as these ar- tifictal pools have been found fre- quently to be excellent breeding places for the mosquito. The malaria mosquito bites most frequently at dusk. If it has fed on a sick person and then bites a well one, the latter Is likely to be supplied with some malarial infec- tion. In summer resorts where the population is mixed, including peo- ple coming from all sorts of locali- ties the chance of infection is great- er. One of the means used to destroy the mosquitoes that carry the ma- laria organisms is to stock all lakes, ponds and sluggish streams with the variety of fish that lives on the larvae of the mosquito. The routine for mosquito con- trol should include, .according to Clarke, the clearing of the edges of the ponds of willows, cattails, water grasses and floatage. Thus the bank of the pond is left sharp and clean, so that the fish can swim close to the bank and feed on the mosquito wiggletails. The fish that has been found to be most active in feeding on the mosquito larvae is the little top minnow Gambusia affinis, also called the pot-bellied minnow. This little fish swims in the most shallow wat- ers. The Illinols state department of health is arranging to send supplies of these minnows to any village or to any organization in the state that wishes to co-operate and will clean the banks in the manner described. The draining of small ponds or marshes and the use of oil sprays are methods suitable to areas where the pond for decorative or for amuse- ment purposes. Menas for the Family Breakfast—Cantaloupe, broiled cottage ham, creamed potatoes, rai- sin and graham muffins, milk, cof- Lunchson—Egg custard with mushrooms, rolled oats bread, cel- v, sugar, cookies, lemonade. l'mn :r—Baked bluefish, anchovy steamed new potatoes, new peas in cream mato salad, apple pudding, milk, | coffee, Eggs Custard With Mushrooms. Five eggs, 1-4 pound fresh mush- rooms, 4 tablespoons butter, 1% teaspoons salt. 1-8 teaspoon pepper, 13 teaspoon papri minced parsley, 1-3 cup milk, arse stale bread erumbs slice mushrooms. 2 tablespoons butter in a sauce sprinkle with e salt and cook, covered, low fire for ten minutes, vell-buttered casserole, until light, with milk, 1 salt. pepper, pap- Pour nkle with teaspoon over a Turn into a Deat eges tablespoon butter, parsiey ST 1o i ik 4 custard can be baked in indi- vidual custard cups and served on a hot platter surrounded with creamed peas if a more elahorate dish crumbs 1 b 666 ts & Prescription for Colds, Grippe, Flu, Dengue, dilious Fever and Malaria. It kills the germs “0ld Man Coyote | Sal!y READ THIS FIRST: Bally Jerome, 20 and clever and pretty, is the prop and mainstay of her family, in the absence of her father who has been scparated from her mother for nine years. The family consists of Mrs. Je- rome; the twins, Beau and Milli and Sall; ll(rsell Mrs. Jerome'is & semi-inv &0 Sally does the housework mornings and works for Mr. Peevey downtown afternoons. In the flat below the Jerome flat lives young Ted Sloan, who's in love with Sally. Mrs. Jerome fis dreadfully afraid that Sally will marry him and leave her, but Sally has nothing but friendship for Ted. The only man she's interested in is John N who's office is across the Naylor building. On a Monday in August Millie drops into Sally's office with the news that she's had to quit her job | because her employer tried to make love to her. This is always Millie's excuse when she gives up a posi- fon, but Beaw's girl, Mabel Wilmot, says the real reason is that Milli won't stay in an office unless there's somebody there with whom she's in love. Millie catches a glimpse of John Nye and “falls for him” on the spot. Late that afternoon Nye meets Sally | hall from Mr. Peevey's in the Nye- | in the hall of the bullding and asks| her if she happens to know of a stenographer to take the place of his own, who has just got married. Sally tells him about Millle, but when Millle goes down to see him the next day he has just been called out of town because of the illness mer resort. Millfe until he returns and then apply for the job. That night Mabel Wilmot gives a party at the Jerome flat. Sally pro- vides the refreshments, thinking, of course, that Mabel will pay them. But when Mabel leaves midnight she airilv remarks Beau will pay for them. But knows that Beau never pays anything, and she's frantic. at that Sally for NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY | CHAPTER VIT It was Sally's habit to get six o'clock every morning of ar, winter and summer. It gave her a full hour to herself before it | was time to put the coffee on to boil and to cut the bread for breakfast. That hour was the time of the whole day for her. She took a lefsurely bath, did her “up- setting” exercises, manicured nails, brushed her hair until shone like blue-black satin, her roora to rights. It belonged to her—that hour before the rest of the family was up and stirring. Before the day with its endless jobs for M up at 1t | of his mother at a neighboring sum- decides to rest| for | the | | sick.” pleasantest | I'm flat busted.” i Sally's blue eyes widened. her |she exclaimed. and set | gone!"” hushed'| it is.” | ation. Beau paid the gas bill or the "]l"hl bill every two or three months Je- | rome and the twins, for Mr. Peevey, | engulfed her. But on the morning after Mabel's party Sally woke up long before six o'clock. The dawn was still pearly- white outside the windows and a cool breeze shook the ruffled cur-| Mabel's party. tains of the room. She woke with the memory of a dream still hazy in her mind—a dream abeut John Nye! | “Now, why under the sun should | T be dreaming about him?” Sally | asked herself as the dream came | back to her, bit by bit, like the | parts of a puzzle-picture. She had dreamt that she was in | a restaurant, all alone at a table. Next to her were two other people, a man and a woman. In her [T got tha liquor dream she had turned her head steathily to see who they were, and had scen John Nye and Millie, hold- | little table he watched ing hands across the where they sat. As them they had leaned toward each | would see to it. other, and John Nye had Kkissed Millie squarely on mouth, After that point, Sally could re- member nothing more of the dream. But there was a very real feeling of jealousy in her heart as she lay there in the dawn-coolness, think- ing about it. It seemed to her that she still could see John N dark, good- looking face as he had leaned to- wards Millie in the dream, And came to her, in a blinding flash, | that the rouson she was jealous was because she was in love with John | | Nye! .to had It had taken the dream show her the truth that she been hiding from herself for days; that she had fallen in with him suddenly, blindly foolishiy—the way a woman in love just once in her life, no mat love ter how many little love affairs she ! mass of yellow hair: may have before and after that once! Dreams are queer and mysterious things. We try all sorts of ways. cucumbers and to- | this over bread remaining butter minutes in a slow oven. 2 tablespoons ' 1-4 | Melt | pen, it | | , You would give it to me—" little | she didn’t hav 1wo | about?" and | her bed on the falls | room. 1o explain them in| Ny The dream-books | she almost hated Millie as she look- | gray, and his eyes had puffs | neath them, | Sally sald to him with her motherly {in the punch at these parties why | board at all. s Shoulders/ BEATRICE BURTON, Author that can be bought in drug-stores |and five-and-ten-cent stores try to explain them and tell us what they mean. The learned doctors of Vien- na and Paris and London and New York try to explain them, too. But { nobody knows what they really are, or why we have them. Nobody. Be that as it may, Sally’s dream about John Nye had settled one question for her for all time. She knew she was in love with him. ‘While she lay there in her bed with her thoughts far away, she became aware of noises in the house —the sound of a door opening and ot softly-shod feet walking around | the rooms. Presently Beau's volce came from the bathroom: “Suay, Sally, where in Tophet is| | the buking soda?—I'm sick as a| hound-dog and I want some!" “S-g-sh!" hissed Sally, tumbling | out of bed and into her kimono, “It's ln the Kitchen cupboard of course!" She got it, and strong dose of it. mixed him a His face was pale be- He shuddered as he emptied the glass. “I sure am at low-pressure this a. m.,” he groaned, with one | hand pressed to his stomach. | “I hate to say ‘T told you so,’ but vou know you can’t drink, Beau,” little air, “And if you must put gin don’t you have them on Saturday nights instead of in the middle of the week. Now, you'll never be able to go to work today.” “Sure I will. I'll go 1if it kills me,” answered Beau, and shuftfled | back to bed. True to his word, work that morning. | He appeared at the door of Sally's | | room at seven, fully dressed and looking the picture of misery. “What on earth are you doing, up jat this time?” Sally gasped when she saw him. Usually Beau had to | be literally dragged from his bed in | | the morning. | “I'm going to walk part of the | way to the bank,” he moaned, T | thought the fresh air and the exer- cise might set me up—I sure am he went to He stood tlere, gazing intently at her for a- minute more. Then he asked a question: ‘“Say, Sal, you couldn’t slip me a fiver, could you? ““Why, it's only Wednresday morning Beau!” “And pay on Saturday. you got your Surely it isn't all He nodded his blond head. “Yes he said. and made no explan- and considered that he had done his | duty by his family. He paid no “Why, what have you done with 2" Sally was beginning, and then ll at once it came to her that*he had spent it all on liquor for She shook lier head. “I'm sorry, Beau,” she told him, “But 1 was just going to ask you for some money. You sce, I went ahead and bought all the food for Mabel's par- ty, thinking that she would pay me | the money T spent. T asked her ahout it last night, and she said “She did!” Beau broke In. “Well, any right to say a thing like that! It was her party and the smokes, didn’t 1? The least she could do was to pay for the cats. She makes al- | most as much as I do—Well, T'l see that you get your money.” | But Sally knew that he never She knew him and | loved him it spite of her knowl- | | 2dge of him and his weakness. He | was her only brother, after all. “If T had five dollars, I'd give it to you,” she sald, “You know T | would, don't you, Beau? But I haven't got it—I paid the rent on Saturday, and T was three weeks late with it, at that. Here!" | She opened a little brown silk | purse that hung heside her toilet | mirror, and handed him a limp | dollar hill frem it “That's ali T can let you have, she finished unhappily. Beau took it and went. “What were you two gassing Millie asked sleepily, turn- stretching Iuxuriously in | i side of the Her blue eyes were wide and v as a child's under the tousled | ing and de i Sally did not answer her. She! | was thinking about the dream again —the dream about Millie and John And, for one fleeting second, | and measured the coffee into | Coffe, the only brand the | mer costume are very new and very | *HER MAN" *HONEY LOU *THE WOLL GIRLY ETC. ed at her lying there. Then she was herself again. “Thank heaven I don't have to get up this morning!” Millie sighed, clasping her soft little hands behind her head. “That Nye man can stay away for a month as far as I'm con- cerned—1 hate the thought of a job in this kind of weather.” Here was a new problem. For with Millie not working, and Beau spending practically svery nickel he earned onethe demanding and jazzy Mabel, the whole load of keeping the house going fell to Sally. Her face was thoughtful went out to the as she cool dim kitchen the white-enamel pet. She didn't put in as much as usual this morning . . . family would drink, cost forty-five cents a pound. “I'll have to go out to Aunt Emily's tonight, and see if I can borrow a little money from her," she decided as she began to cut pa- per-thin slices of bread from the one loaf that remained in the tin box on the table. There had been two loaves there when Sally had gone to bed the night before. But evidently Mabel had made a few extra sandwiches tor her party . . All the butter had been used too. The empty crock was in the sink, full of water. “Gee whiz!" Sally said aloud, but she could have cried, “Well, we'll have to have extta oranges this morning. That's all.” She opened the door of the little fruit closet under the sink. The large brown-paper bag that had held a dozen oranges the night be- fore was empty, too. Mabel must | have made scme extra punch for the gin drinkers. “Ye gods!” cried Sally under her breath e gods was the phrase | that she used when she was in the state of mind where a man would have sworn under, his breath. She made hot-cakes for Dbreak- fast, that morning and it was a hot job! (TO BE CONTINUED) REG. U. 5. PAT. OFF. ©1927 BY NEA SERVICE, INC. Fools rush in where wise men fear to wed. . Pastel Heels White stockings with colored heels | in pastel shades to match the sum- smart. ‘Their last gasp” Bucs BREATHE their Jast gasp when they meet Black Flag. It gets every fly, mosquito and roach—and other . bugs, too. They'redead! Tryit. StId atdrug, grocery, hardware and department stores. Powder 15¢ up, and For Quick Returns Use Herald Classified Ads. 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