New Britain Herald Newspaper, October 18, 1928, Page 13

NEW BRITAIN DAILY HERALD, THURSDAY, OCTOBER 18, 1928 14| House)| 1.\ CHAPTER 1 To begia with, it was not a yellow houss at all. It was green, and it had been green as far back as Emmy Milburn could remember. A dark forest- green which did not show the marks of the soot that came sifting dows upen it day and night, from the woolen mill near by and the P. & C. rallroad tracks three blocks away, But it had been yellow twenty- five years before when Emmy's mother had come there as a bride. And 0 she had always called it “the little yellow house” with ten- derness and affection, as if it were the most delightful spot under the sun instead of an uniovely little frame dwelling in a down-at-the- heel street. That is, the house would have been unlovely except for the per- fectly lovely things that Mrs. Mil- burn 44 for it—the bridal -wreath bushes that she planted in the front yard, the dotted muslin curtains that ahe “did up” every month of her life, and the scarlet geraniums that she kept abloom all the year around in the bay window overlook- ing Flower street. Flower street. . . . It was Mrs, Milburn who had given to Flower rem ttle l and dirty and poor to her as it did on that particular afternoon after the brightness and color of the shopping district she had left be- hind her. The little houses, sharply black in the chilly light, seemed to huddle together as if they were try- ing to keep warm. Beyond them the wooden mill rose like the great dark shoulder of a hill. But just as she started up the street, lights flashed out from its three rows of windows, showing it unmistakably for the thing it was: not a hill, but a factory. Emmy never knew which she was more ashamed of—the wooden mill, or Flower street itself. 8he knew that Yellow Hous never apologized, 8he spoke her own mind at times and upon all things. passed over people like a steam roller, leaving them crushed and flat and breathless behind her. The only person who had ever been known. to defy her was her daugh- ter Rosy on that day & quarter of a century before when she had eloped with “bad little Charlie” Milburn. In her soft and gentle way, Mrs. Milburn was defying her now. “No, Mother, I can't let you pay our rent for us,” she was saying, while she folded and unfolded the crisp new bank note. “Charlie will take care of it sooner or later. He never explained. all She she hated both of them. The very |al sight of them made her heart sink lately whenever she rounded the corner from Cedar avenue. It sank now as her eyes went from the windows of the mill to the little jerry-built houses. . . . The Brainards’, with its BOARD BY WEEK, DAY OR MEAL sign in the front window. Mrs. Grossman's, showing a glimmer of white in the sideyard where some washing was hung on the line. The Butler's, with its sagging steps and broken gate. The little yellow house stood half- down the street. In outline it | was just like all the other houses ¥No, Mother, I can’t let you pay our rent. Charlie will, sooner or later.” street ita wholly unsuitable name. Uncle Bill Parks, who owned every foot of it except the ground where the woolen mill stood, had let l.er choose & name for it when she had eome there to live, long years be- Sore. And she had chosen “Flower #treet,” hoping that her neighbors would take the hint. They never had. Not one of them. But that was Mrs. Milburn for you! Bhe was always trying to make things seem better than they were. Always doing her level best to bring them nearer to the heart's desire . + . and the shabbier and uglier they were the harder she would try to coax them into something like beauty. For example, she always spoke of the neat, grassy square of yard )e- hind the house as “the garden,” al- though it was not much bigger than a pocket-handkerchief. She made it a garden, too, with her own smail work-roughened hands. ‘When the stair carpet wore out she covered the steps with white paint aad took to calling them “the wooden hill.” If there happened to be nothing but plain fried bread for & meal, she would refer to it ele- gantly and cheerfully as “French toast.” ‘There were other things in her life—dark, unhappy things—that she dressed up with fine, brave words in the same way. Neither poverty nor worry nor the hardest kind of work, year in and year out, had made her bitter. “Some folks are born with a sil- 'ver spoon in their mouths, but 1 must have been born with a broom she would say some- end of a particularly hard day; and that was the only thing in the way of complaint that Emmy had ever known her to ut- ter. As a matter of fact, she had been born with a gold spoon in her mouth, and she had exchanged it for & broom on her wedding day. (But if she regretted her bargain, no [sne knew it from her. And in this shining optimism of hers she had brought up her three children—Perry, the eldest, and Emmy, and young Dan. She wove & kind of friendly romance so thick- ly around the little yellow ‘“ouse that Emmy was almost a woman grown before she began to find out the real truth about it—and about themselves. Emmy never was sure just when it was that she did begin to find out things about the little house. But jafterwards, as ashe looked back, it always seemed to her that it was on certain fifth day of November—a [day that was filled with mist, a smell of far-off rain, and the moke of leaves burning along the gutters. The fifth of November was Mrs. [Milburn's birthday, and Emmy had nt the whole afternoon down jown buying a present for her. It just five o'clock when she got pff the Cedar avenue car at the cor- jner—that last cold gray moment be- fore the street lamps are lighted the dark becomes deeply blue. Somehow or other, Flower street in the row. It had the same pointed roof, the same narrow porch, the same bay window jutting out over the front lawn. Uncle Bill Parks had built them all from the same set of plans, The bay window waw Mrs. Mil- burn’'s watch-tower. The close of cvery day would find her standing there behind the curtains waiting tor her husband and her children to come home. But she was not there now. The curtains hung in straight, stiff folds, and behind them was the yellow glow of lamplight. As Emmy pushed open the front door, the familiar fragrance of the house came sweeping up to her nos- trils. A mixed fragrance of fregh bread, dried roses, furniture polish, and absolute cleanliness. It was ton. lic after the woolly smell of Flower street outside. The hall was in shadow, But be- yond it the sitting room was full of light, and tkrough the doorway Emmy could see her mother in her low rocker before the fire. 8he was looking thoughtfully at a green bank note that she smoothed be- tween her fingers. Mrs. Milburn was a little woman with brown hair parted in the mid- dle. Her eyes were blue, and they had not lost youth's trick of shin- ing. 8he was forty-five, but she did not secem middle aged. And you could not look at her without see- ing that, no matter how long she lived, she would always be young somehow. “Emmy, is that you?” she called, with a quick, birdlike turn of her head. “Come in. Your Grandmoth- {er's here.” Grandmother Pentland, in black broadcloth, black velvet, and black fur, was sitting bolt upright beside the pink-shaded lamp on the center table. S8he did not look like any- body's mother, either, for the mat- ter of that. With her broad shoulders, her commanding nose, and sharp, black eyes she might easily have been mistaken for a triumphant con- gress-woman or the female head of a rolling-mill. It was impossible to think of her as ever having washed small, dirty faces or sung babies to sleep on a warm breast in long-ago twilights. And yet, of course, she had. She held up a dry, smooth cheek for Emmy to kiss, and then went on with something she had been saying to Mrs, Milburn: “Now, then, don’t you be a fool, Rosy! You take that money and send it to your Uncle Bill; do you hear me? That bad little Charlie hasn’t sent him a penny of rent for two months, and your uncle is get- ting pretty sick of him and his shiftless ways!” “That bad little Charlie” was the way Grandmother Pentland usually spoke of her daughter's husband, Charles Darwin Milburn. S8he had been speaking of him in that way for twenty-five years; and she felt that, so far, he had never done a single thing to make her eat her words. Not that she would have eaten them anyway! 8he never took back “Always has! Hah!" Grand- mother Pentland gave a snort. “You mean that he's paid it about five months out of every twelve you've lived here! And your Uncle Bill has been very patient with him, I'm sure, Anybody else would have turned you all out into the street, bag and baggage, years ago. Years ago!"” The flat of her hand came down smartly upon the arm of the chair, Mrs. Milburn's eyes widened with dismay and al]l the shine and sparkle weny out of them. She put out one hand, as if she were ward- ing off a blow, and half rose from her rocker. Then she sat down again helplessly. “Emmy,” she gaid, *“will you run out to the kitchen and see if that pudding's burning? And shut the door as you go." Emmy went, carefully closing the door behind her. But the sound of her grandmother’s full, rich voice followed her into the hall. “A grafter! That's what your beautiful Charlie is!” she was say- ing now in her downright way. “Living here on my brother's boun- tyh Letting anyone and everyone look after you and the children, while he skips around as if he didn’t have a care in the world!"” Emmy stood stock-still in the cold, dark littie hall, listening, won- dering. “He's a fine kind of a husband for you, {sn't he?” Grandmother Pentlan volce rose again. “A pretty rotten reed to lean on—" “Please, stop right there, Moth- er!” This time it was Mrs Milburn's voice, low and soft. but with a warning note in it that Emmy never had heard in it before. “No one, not even you, can talk like that about Charlie to me! And here's your fif- ty dollars—" There was a sudden rustling sound within the closed room, and Emmy fled on tiptoe to the kitchen, fearful lest she be caught eavesdropping. It came to her all at once that that was what she was doing. An ofl lamp was burning brightly in the middle of the big white Kitchen table. A tea kettle sang cheerfully on the coal stove. In the oven a bread pudding was turn- ing to a smooth golden-brown, and on the rack above it a dozen pota- toes were baking. Emmy took a candle from the shelf between the windows and started upstairs. The sitting room door, as she passed it, was still closed, and from behind it canie the steady murmur of voices. In her own small, white room at the back of the house, Emmy took off her hat and coat. Then she un- tied the package she had brought |from down town and drew her | mother's birthday present from the tissue-paper wrappings. It was a pair of ivory-white kid gloves, stitched with black. “Very swanky!” Emmy smiled to herself, pulling off the price tag and slipping the gloves back into their paper-lined box. She had always wanted her moth- er to have a pair of white kid gloves to wear to vesper services at St. Paul's on Sunday afternoons in- stead of the black cotton ones that she had had for so long. To Emmy, at seventeen, white kid gloves seem- ed the height of elegance, and there was still a sparkle of satisfaction in hr eyes when she laid the box down upon her dresser. She had saved for those gloves. But the starry look died out of her face a secoad afterward as she began to unhook the blue serge dress she had on. For the blue serge dress had once belonged to her cou- sin, Marianna Pentland. 8o had the brown-and-whits gingham that Emmy took from the tiny clothes had looked quite s0 shabby anything that she ever sald. She!closst and slipped over her head. Until now she had always taken it more or less for granted that she should wear Marianna's cast-off clothes. 8he had been wearing them all her life and thinking nothing of it. 5 8he had taken it for granted, too, that they should live in the little yellow house and pay the rent whenever they could. 8he waa quite used to having the gas or the elec- tric light in it turned off every now and then because the bills had not been paid. She had taken it for granted that they should ke:p very quiet and| pretend that nobody was at home when the bill collectors came. And she never had doubted her mother when she said her father had “the neuralgia” on those nights when he came home white and shaky and went stumbling upstairs to bed. But now, with her grandmother's words still ringing in her ears, Emmy began to sec things in a new light. had said to her mother about her father?—“A gratter! . . . Living on my brother's bounty! Letting everyone and anyone look after you and the children while he skips Emmy's eyes were thoughtful as she went on buttoning her straight, slender body into Marianna's cast- off gingham. They were very beau- tiful eyes. Between thick, black lashes they were luminously gray, like the sea at twilight. There was a dewy look in them that question- ed life and welcomed it. A you'g, shy, eager look. Emmy's hair, the color of rawij gold, was braided and bound close- ly around her head. Her rose-white skin had the bloom of a floyer, and her mouth was velvety red. 8he never had used rouge, lip-stick, or eyebrow-jencil in her life. Mrs. Mil. burn said that make-up was “com- mon.” She was standing with Grand- mother Pentland in the shadowy lower hall when Emmy, candle in hand, reached the bottom of the stairs, “Well, Emmy Milburn, you're get- ting to look more like your mother every day of your life!” Grand- mother Pentland said, half-angrily, as if she were accusing her of something shameful. *“I certainly hope YOU won't set yourself down in the middle of a trash heap the way she did!" While Emmy stood gazing at her, wondering if her grandmother agreed with her that Flower street was a trash heap, the front door was pushed open unceremoniously and Robb Hollis stepped into the hall. Robb was only twenty-four, but already he was a foreman at the woolen mill. He often dropped in at the Milburns' on his way up the street to Mrs. Brainard's house, vhere he had a room. “How do you do, Mrs. Pentland?" he asked, holding out his hand to Emmy's grandmother, In the dim light his dark eyes and his teeth flashed as he grinned at her in his friendly, engaging way. But Grandmother Pentland did not sece the outstretched hand. She had a way of seeing only the things that she wanted to see. “How are you, Hollis?"” she asked, with the air of a great lady speak- ing to a peasant. 8he turned her broad, flat back upon him and laid one hand on Emmy's shoulder. “Take me out to my car, Emma- line,” she said, briskly. “I left it in the backyard where all the brats in the neighborhood wouldn’t find it and crawl all over it, the way they did last time I was here. . . . Well, good-night, Rosy, and happy birth- day!" Emmy saw her press something into her mother's hand as she kissed her good-bye. It was small and flat, and Emmy knew that it was the fifty-dollar bill. This time Mrs. Milburn kept it. (TO BE CONTINUED) READ HERALD CLASSIFIED ADS FOR BEST RESULTS ti What was it that grandmother ACTRESS DECLARES BIGOTS IN SADDLE Religion Made Issue in Cam- paign, Miss Hurlbart Says “The’ prohibition question, the tariff and other issues are all minor issues in the present presidential campaign,” said Miss Gladys Hurl- burt, a Broadway actress and mem- ber of the speakers committee of the national democratic committee, at a rally and card party of the women's democratic club held yes- terday afternoon at the Y. M. T, A. B. hall. “The transcendent issue in this campaign is religion,” she con- ue “and thousands of dollars are spent daily by committees of the Methodists and South Baptists, organized against Governor Alfred E. 8mith, for literature, which is spread about the homes—poisonous, vile literature condemning in terri- ble language the demacratic can- didate.” 3 Miss Hurlburt, a daugnter of an Episcopalian minister, and born in Norwich, condemned this sert of propaganda and stated that the re- publicans, who although they do not bring out the questicn of religion, failed to suppress this sort of thing and failed to condemn the sources from which this literature flows. Campaign of Prejudices “This is a campaign of prejudices ther than issues,” Miss Hurlburt sald, “and a great, a vast amount of women are taking part in a whis- pering campaign, using Tammany Hall as an argument against Smith. Thelr minds have been poisoned BUILDER ELECTRICIAN TILE You ought to know this lovely New York city girl because her blonde beauty has been displayed on s0 many magazine covers. She's Marion Dahl, 35 Clarkson 8t., Brooklyn. Artists say she's a “type!” They fairly rave over her delicate flesh tints and the golden glory of her hair! Miss Dahl says: “Everyone I know, tells me how wonderful my hair looks, nowadays. I don't feel like it's a personal compliment, however; I take it more as a com- plement to the method I'm using to care for it. It's the rage among is put a little Danderine on your brush each time you use it. My hair was wiry and hard to keep in and easy to dress and holds it like 1 arrange it, for hours! My acalp fairly tingles with vigor after I use it, and it keeps my head so clean I don’t need to shampoo half so often. It brings out the color of my hair | marvelously, making it fairly glisten!” Every application of Danderine tones amd refreshes your scalp. It removes the oily film from each girls here in New York. All you do! place, but Danderine makes it soft | LANDSCAPE GARDENING E. J. Cardarelll MASON SUPPLIES Citizens’ Coal Co. FRIGIDAIRE Connecticut Light & Power Co. strand and makes dull, stringy hair gleamy, soft and easily manage- able. It dissolves dandruff and keeps it out of your hair. It isn't sticky or oily. It doesn't show. All drug stores have the generous 3Sc botties. with prejudice against this organiza- tion, which is one of the greatest charitable organizations of the world. People misunderstand its ul- timate purpose and mpk it with scandals and grafts, and by so do- ing cause a great injustice. “Governor Smith proved that he is independent of Tammany and has defled it on many oceasions and es- pecially former Mayor Hylan of New York, when he .ried to boss him. People are given the impres- sion that all office norgers in the state of New York are Tammany men, but the fact remains that out of 240 appointments to political of- fice made by Governor Smith, only two Tammany men were given jobs, which disproves the general fmpres- sion that Tammany rules New York and is reaching out to rule the country. The organizatien is a charitable one and has no inclina- tions to govern the peonle of this country.” Denies Prosperity Clalms Miss Hurlburt further rapped claims of republican prosperity, stating that one-third of the ,opula- tion of this country e¢nsists of farmers, and they by far are not prosperous and happy. Then tak- ing the textile industry, the speak- er pointed out the crying need of rescuing one of the most important cogs in the wheel of American pros- perity, which has Dbeen badly neglected. “We must look forward to bring- ing prosperity to the nation as a whole and not a few. A growing number of millionatres does not mean national prosperity, and that is just what we have. The republi- can party points to tpe Eittering ta- bles of a few and by that endeavors to show the nation, national pros- perity. The American home is in a very worrled condition, due to per- flous conditions of our chief indus- DATES October 26th, 27th, 28th - John W. Anderson Billings Electric Co. Barclay Tile & Marble Co. tries, and as long as such conditions exist, America cannot expect nation- a1 prospenty.” Caus rouibition Tragic Joke 8Speaking of the prohivition issue, Miss ‘Hunburt stated that every woman regrets coudiions as they are—the Wuolesale drinking partics witnessed amoug chidren, unheard of before the pussage or the eigh- teenth amendwment, the ecase with which any’ child cal eecure liquor ofttimes poisonous. The ¢ ildren think no more of breaking the dry law than they do of going over on a neighbor's watermelon patch and stealing some melona, she declared. 8he called the whole thing a tre- mendous joke, a tragic yose, which carries Wwith it death to thousands of men, women and children every year. “l am not against temperance, but 1 am against universal hypocri- cy. The whole thing is a Jjoke. Those who condemn liquor as a curse to the nation and teli you that |repealing of the eighteenth amend- ment would mean terrible condi- tions in the country, are the first to limvite you after their wonderful or- atory about prohibition to a sip of |some ‘pre-war stuff’ after the meet- ling. Every well-to-do person has a goodly quantity of spirits and laughs at the amendment, but it is the poor man who is suffering the consequences and 1t is in his ranks that most deaths occur through drinking poisonous liquor. Gover- nor Smith does not promise to re- peal the amendment, but he believes that every state is entitled to ex- press its rights about this question, and he promises that if it is the [will of the people of this country to |have beer and light wines, they |shall have it. On the other hand it the nation expresses its wish to support the amendment, he will do’ |everything in his power to enforce the law. Mr. Hoover ean do no more than Mr. Coolidge har done T'S just about completed and when it opens you will be invited to come in and see the handiwork of a group of men whose collective efforts have resulted in a masterpiece of modern home building. LOUIE S. JONES AND ASSOCIATES OIL BURNER RADIATORS Thomas H. INSURANCE Louie 8. Jones BRASS PIPE, HEATING, PLUMBING C. J. Leroux PAINTING AND Sponsors and French & Glock Hart & Hutchinson Mfg. Co. PLLASTER AND MASON Heslin Morgan, Kingsley & Thompson for prohibition.” Miss Hurlburt was introduced by Mrs. Laura P. Mangan, 3 member of the school board. After the -~ddress card games were played and refreshments were served. On Friday evening at § o'clock the High School Girls' club will be the guests at a junior bridge party and rally to be held under the auspices of the First Ward Dem- ocratic club at its headquarters, 38 Rockwell avenue. READ HERALD CLASSIFIED ALS 666 {Cures Matarta and quickly relleves Billousiness, Headaoiwe and Deal- nesr due (0 temporary Comstipntim. Alds W eliminaiing loshe and & | htichly esteemed for producing copi- ous watery evacuations RELIEF FROM CURSE OF CONSTIPATiON A Battle Creek physician says, “Constipation is responsible for more misery than any other cause.” But immediate relief has been found. A tablet called Rexall Or- derlies attracts water from the sys- tem into the lazy, dry, evacuating bowel called the colon. The wa- ter loosens the dry food waste and causes a gentle, thorough moyvement without forming a habit or ever in- creasing the dose. Stop suffering from constipation. Chew a Rexall Orderlie at night. Next day bright. Get 24 for 25c today at the nearest Rexall or Lig- gett Drug Store. The Jones Model Home Almost Ready Now GAS EQUIPMENT New Britain Gas Light Co. WEATHERBEST SHINGLES AWNINGS New Britain Lumber Co. New Britain Tent & Awning Co. SCREENS, WEATHERSTRIP SRy, New Britain B. C. Porter DECORATING WOODWORK, Builders of the JONES MODEL HOME STANLEY QUARTER MANOR The Garden Spot of New Britain Bcreen Co. FURNISHINGS * Sons HARDWARE Rackliffe Bros. Co., Inc.