New Britain Herald Newspaper, May 31, 1929, Page 16

o3 2 by Dicky % At Junior's hesitancy, his patent { .= jaclination to stay in his grand- % father's room _instead of coming | % with me to the orchard for a last ® pomp before my departure to the 2 city, 1 turned toward the door with bt quiet, “Very well, dear, come out = latel which masked one of the ® unhappiest moments of my life. The 2 bitterness of it was not lessened by @my full realization of the absurdity ®and pettiness of my emotion. ® My father made no comment = whatever while I remained in the room, But he must have said something most effective to Junior ~as soon as the door was closed be- -Mnd me, for I barely had reached ®yny own room before I heard my small son pelting down the hall, =calling me frantically, and the next «@instant he had flung himself upon Jme with a tempestuous hug. eplay pirate,” he said. =you, Mums, darling. =" His tone rang with sincerity, and =1 put from me the unworthy sus- -plcmn that some admonition of his < grandfather's had aroused contrition -and that he was trying to “make -up" to me for his reluctance to #leave his play. With his dear young ~arms hugging me tightly, I crushed down my secret resentment and re- eturned his hug enthusiastically. ® +and 1 just want you, Sweet- Sheart,” I told him. “We're going to -hl\P a splendid romp in the or- “chard.” ® He ran for his cap and coat, anl .tnmtng back, escorted me proudly wout-of-doors and through the yard Zinto the orchard at the rear of Iwhich he had built a fearsome and *wondrous camp of old boards anil ebarrels. It is a structure all his Sown, for Dicky and 1 decided that 210 help him with it, even to provide =new lumber for it, would spoil his : ={nitiative and his resourcefulnese.' ZAs a result his pride in it is un- Tbounded, and he plays the host <with an air of possession which is fadorable or ludicrous, depending Lupon whether the guest is an admir- 4ing relative or just an acquaintance. * In the Orchard * We have had many wonderfully ,enjuublc hours—my small son and wJ—in front of this camp, for its pro- sportions do not admit adults unlesy *folded up lke jack knives, I looked 2around the lovely orchard with a re- sturn of my sadness. When I should #mext see it with Junior, I feared the fast trace of the summer-like au- .tumn would be gone, and the trces sbare. My original plan had been to %spend almost cvery week-end at the Jfarm, but the bizarre complications swhich had come into our lives.with “the plot against Prince Georges *would make it necessary, I kmew, for me to stay at the hotel unti} the sdanger was over, na . matter . how Mong an ahsence it entailed from the rmhouse—and my small son. ‘s 1 had not meant my boy to see my | ¥mood, but his eyes ‘were too quick me. ne smile with which I rmed to hi ked: s IR rfidvs;hlm Hls #yes grew the grin faded from his thce. “Mums, tell me ‘something.” le d. * “When are you opming back? ext week >** & I.anathematized the thoughtless- smess which had let my mask slip. 1 Zesuld not lie to him, but I did not Swish to alarm him by telling him Tthe truth. Dicky Breaks In + "It's the middle of the week, now, séear,” I told him hurriedly. “We': shardly get in there and comfortably ttled before next week. And you'll 80 busy with your lessons that syou”ll hardly know we're gone.” "Not know you're gone?” he re- Jllled with & mournful emphasis «that brought a lump to my throat. *'What kind of boy do you thinx 've got? You're my mother, ani you think T wouldn't know you were +gone! Won't you know that I'in ne o His voice was choky by this time, «and I held out my arms to him. ¢ “What do you think?" I asked *T didn’t really want to stay and | ‘I just want S myself by the time he had finished his little tirade, and I turned quietly away from him and released myself beside my boy. But the next instant my amall son was no longer beside me. He had flung himself after the retreating figure of his father, and seized his arm with both hands, while his voice rose in impassioned angry protest. Junior Protests -+ “My mother isn't what you called her,” he choked, evidently under the impression that “ethereal martyr” was some epithet calling for blood- shed upon the part of the lady" sworn knight. Several months be. fore, after an orgy of mediaeval story telling, he had begged me to give him the accolade of knighthood with "his wooden sword, and also had begged for a piece of ribbon from one of my gowns to wear in his cap. T had played the combina- tion role ef sovereign and sweet- heart with tears behind my smiles for the adoration which I realized lay beneath the little chap's play and it was with a flerce joy in his championship that I heard his ar- raignment of his father, though I knew that later I must take him to task for his rudeness and send him to Dicky with an apology. For always my husband and Y have kept one unspoken pact. Never has either of us, in the ab- sence of the other, belittled each other's authority or uttered a criti- cism of any sort. To do Dicky jus- tice, also, I told myself, although I found the admission difficult, so angry was I, the occasions of his fly- ing out at me before Junior were rare. With Lillian’s words still echoing in my ears, I wondered if the jealousy of my work with Philip Veritzen which I knew prompted his outburst, might not have its roots— as she had said—in. I pulled myself up short. yet was I willing to consider that poasibility even in my remotest thought processes.. But when did a .woman fail to find a ccrtain soften- ing thrill in the conjecture that her husband’s anger is promptéd by jealousy? A Poignant Moment Junior's high-pitched voice aweeping on, perilously near tears now. “She’s the best mother in the whole world,” he shouted, “and you shan't make her feel bad by calling her names just when she's going away.” Dicky permitted his son to pull him around so that he faced me. At the look upon his face my muscles tensed in terror, then relaxed as the flerce anger vanished as quickly as it had come. But I knew that in that momentary wrath, he had been very near to physical chastisement of his amall son for the little lad's championship of me, and I shiverea at the knowledge that such a scene would have indelibly branded its bit- terness upon all three of us. But there was rancor mingled with infinite weariness in his voice as he finally answered the boy. “You do not understand, Junier, T haven’t called your mother names. But you are a good boy to stand up for her. Always do that. You might remember, however, that T am ‘[oin[ away, too, tomorrow morn- ng.” He loosened the boy's hands and strode quickly away. Junior stood looking after him for a second, his fista clenched, his chest heaving. | Then he threw himself face down- ward upon the grass, and vented his anguished perplexity in a loud wail such as he had not used for many months. “Oh, dear!" he cried. “Why can't I have my father and mother to- gether, and all of us loving each other lots as we used to do.! I half rose from my seat to rush to him, but saw Dicky slacken his stride irresolutely, and I sank down again. Did he mean to come back? (Continued Tomorrow) (Copyright, 1929, Newapaper Feature Bervice, Inc.) YOUR HEALTH Not was to Pottly, and he rushed into my arms | sWith & sob which he quickly con- squered. for he is trying hard to live | 'I' to the standard of “being a big| . | ‘I'm going to miss you every min- ute.” I told him earnestly. realiziag ntuitively that this was the assur- sance his heart demanded. “And 1 *know you are going to miss me. But 'there are reasons, which I will ex- .pllln to you—" + “When I'm older, I nupposr % *Junior interrupted rebelliously. thate that.” “I wasn't going to say ‘older’ but “later’; I explained, refraining from ireproof. Not with any discipline | “would I mar this last visit with my | «child. “They are reasons which I *could not tell you now if you were smuch older than you are, And they | «will make me stay away from you sthis winter, though I would much srather be right here. But we cannot «always do as we wish'to do, my dar- eling. 1 have taught you that. ¢ A shadow fell hehind me. and T $10oked up to see Dicky smiling down «at me sardonically, + “Wonderful thing to be able 1o '{ool yourself mm believing that in- “clination is duty,” he said. Dicky's taunt—for it was nothing *lees—would have been hard enough Sto béar if 1 had been alone, and anothing had been involved save his sjealous resentment over my work for 7Philip Veritzen which was to take ume 10 the city for the winter. But| .lhn he should have permitted his erancor to spoil my last hour with 'Jumor before leaving home—this Sbrought me to my feet in 1 quivering Ztury which took all my will- power =to control % “You—you—are unjust’” 1 stam- <mered. unable to quiet all reproach ~but stifling the bitter retort which ] would not utter before Junior. T “Oh, of course.” Dicky mocked, “I arealize that fully, also that you are =~a most ethereal martyr whose heart “is torn hetween her duty and her Zlove for her che-eld orry 1 in- ~truded upon the touching farewell “and the moral lecture.” He swept off Ms cap and bent ~from the waist in » how which held weven more of mockery than did his *words. |son to believe that the blowing of Dut T had caught hold o!. BY DR. MORRIS FISHBEIN Editor Journal of the American |® Medical Association and of Hy- geia. the Health Magazine. There is not, of course, any rea- any musical instrument will injure the lungs; in fact, it is more reason- able to assume that such a perform- ance will exercise the lungs and | thereby make them more capable and more healthful. Some of the superstitions associated with the | playing of musical instruments con- \r'i'vflv in themselves remarkable no- | tions. Many people think that all vielin | plavers have long hair and there is hardly a bald-headed violin vir- oS0 who does not spend at least five per cant of his income on hair | tonics trying to justify this supersti- tion It is argued that all players of | the base horn are obese. It is said not only the tromhone but ako the cornet and particularly the oboe in- terfere with the condition of the | lungs. Probably the statement about the trombone and the ohoe arises from the fact that the former has a great long tube and the latter the smallest outlet for the breath of any of the wind instruments and that heretofore strong efforts are requir- ed 1o blow either of these musical devices. An orchestra leader who has had opportunity for many years to ob- serve musicians reporfs that he knowsno basis for either of these superstitions. Trombone and oboe | players are just as healthy and live just as long as do players of any other type of musical instruments There is no reason therefore to suppose that the playing of an ohoe or trombone in any way injures Lealth. It is not certain. of course, as to just how much practicing and playing on th-se instruments short- en life. No douht the statistics for this point depend on the irritability and homicidal tendencies of th: reighbors named Latin word for seven—septem fore Tuline Cacssr it was the e month of the year, = tha Ra- venth Septemher from (\\Q » o ‘Oh, coxic on, Fred, let's not quarrel, Here's a marricd. ByCDBatdselgy Why, we're acting as if we were e e S————————————— Speed Test n W7 | 1 SNE SAdAN) JEE A | | 7 7 il 1 '] 7 off 10 U g o4 III////lII g | |1 | 2. 111111 2 1111 AEEN/ dNEN Horizontal Masculine adult. Smell. To moisten as with dew. Funeral. Inherent, Brawl. Exultant. Mingled. Measure of cloth. Bupply arranged befor:h successive relief. Heaven. Young goat. Light rap. Railway station. Monkey. To rub out. Stream. To ekpand. To tip to one side as To postpone. To decorate, ‘Withered, Wigwam. Vettical Iron, copper, ete. Entrance. Starting par. Female sheep. Apart or away. Man's stiff felt hat. Verbal. Speeds. nd a vossel. | 2 [AIPITRALT ITIEIRPRC O] [BIOIWEAAIR [O[M]ARGATLTA] E[RIAP4TIOIN}I IC RO [P} 7 / LPQWIAITIE [R] B’BDB}BDB%E’ ADMM 7BRE070 Wi LT EZ DBE”DBEB [Ljole[ARgGIAIBEGOIV]E [R] [Plofe TREAILILEZSTEINID) ABE3 033 - ARRE Sphere. Thin. Born Eye tumor. To piece out. Portion of a mouth. Bustle. To scatter hay. Dry. Loses color. To restrain through fear. To exchange. To prevent. Type of hammer. Rea eagle. Secure. Implement used in pi RBefore. Feline animal. for FOR WINGS BY THORNTON W, Don't criticize until you know You've all the facis; and then slow —Dipper the Grebe It was a day or two atter Peter Rabbit's talk with Dipper the Grebe that Peter for the first time him flv. He came from the di tion of the Big in the Smiling Pool right in sitting “Hello. Dipper!” exclaimed Pe “1 gaw vou fiying time T have ever sean vou in the My, you “That's what these front of where Peter travel fast!” BURGESS River and alighted He alighted That it the first narrow wings are for.” replied Dipper. “Narrow wings are usually the fastest winga.” ‘Oh,” sald Peter, “1 didn't know that.” “Then you have learned some- thing.” replied Dipper. ““And did you fly down to the Big River?" asked Peter, ‘No." replied Dipper. “I swam down the Laughing Brook.” “Why didn't you fly down there?" Peter inquired. Because,” replied Dipper be saw rec- “there Pool to get into the air. Of course, 1 could have done it, but it was easi- er to swim down to the Big River where there is plenty of room.™ Peter thought this over for a few minutee. He seratched hie long ears with his long hindfeet. as is his w when he is puzzled. “What do yo air ¥ i& hardly room here in the Smiling mean,” he asked at last, there is hardly room?" “Just that,” replied Dipper. “You see, I have to sort of get going on the water before I can get up speed enough to get into the air.” “Can’t you jump right up into the air from the water? demanded Pet- er. “Mr. Black Duck can. I've seen him jump from the ter and I've seen him jump from the land." “I'm not a Duck,” Dipper remind. ed Peter. “I couldn't get up in the air from the land at all.” “What! cried Peter in astorish- ment. “It's a fact,” declared Dipper. “That is one reason I do not go on land. On land I am nearly helpless. T couldn't get into the air to save my life, Any one could catch me there." “Pooh” said Peter, “I wouldn't want wings like those. I don't see that they are very much use to you, excepting when you are traveling.” “Don't you?” inquired Dipper pleasantly. ““Just watch me now." Dipper dived, and from his posi- tion on the bank looking down into the water, Peter could see him un- der water. He saw something that astonished him. Dipper seemed to be flying through the water. He was using those wings under - water as it he were swimming with them. In a moment he bobbed up on the other side of the 8miling Pool and then swam back to where Peter was. “Do you swim with your wings?" demanded Peter. Dipper chuckled. “I use them sometimes when I am in a hurry,” said he. “They help a lot when I want to catch a fish. Now do you think they are such poor wings?" “No-o said Peter slowly. “I gues they are just what you need “l don’t gucss, I know, Dipper. (Copyright 1929, by T. W. Burgess) “'by saying replied The next story: the Smiling Pool. The Grebes leave WHY CAMP? What can a summer camp do for your child? If he were otherwise doomed to spend the summer in the paved city streets. the answer is obvious enough. But if you are 8o fortunate as to live within walking distance of the woods, or if you own a summer refuge in some remote, secluded spot, where the children can “live like Indians.” it is not apparent that a summer camp has anything unique to offer. And yet it has. Summer out of Adoors with one's family is one thing, and probably a very delightful one, but summer out of doors in the ex- clusive soclety of playmates and equals 18 quite another. What can camp do for vour chil- dren that you are unable to do? Many things. It can teach him to get along without you for a short period of time .The harder this lesson. the |more important it is for him to |1earn. It can give him opportunity to ac- quire in an environment which is at once stimulating and safe all sorts of physical skill for the learning of which ne home has resources or equipment. Camp can teach your child to get along with children of his own age— here there are no special immuni- tiex and he must learn to give and take with the rest. He quite rightly fakes his parents’ love for granted. but the approval of the group he must win through his own efforts. He gaina the respect of his fellows becausze he learns to do things well, because he is a good e . oot . Little Frocks B New York, May $1—7Phe “lttle s6as0n,” a8 everyone dubs the etretch from Eaaster to Newport and South- ampton . days, eéems pasitively grown-up, so many and varied are the happeniags listed. Of course, outdoor events grow in importance from now on. Add dog shews and benefit fairs to the races and throw in croquet as & new and coming summer sport in addition to teanis, golf, swimming, yachting and ‘s0 on and the time tlies with mere to do than one wants. News from Newport sounds & warning te all competitors for a world-famous sun-tan complexion that Murial Vanderbilt Church has a running start because she has, to date, spent practically every day outside, dividing her time betweén apeeding in a new boat, and riding along new bridal paths in her capa- city as member of the chamber of commerce's brida] path committee. Health Is In the Mode Practically every one here, how- ever, has some kind of tan. There is nothing nicer, really, than a glowing, healthy look. Mrs. Thomas Hitchcock Jr. made such an attrac- tive picture strolling around the pad- dock with her famous polo-playing husband wearing one of the soft tweed coats in beige topped by a amart hat of the coat's fabric thi showed (her tan to advantage An- other day she wore rose color in her card sult with frilly white blouse, One-piece frocks bloom all over Park avenue about luncheon time these warm days. It is amasing how. coats are shed’ and colorful little dresses show themselves, like flow- ers springing up after the snows lea Deauville sticks to its black, with touches of ecru or color, but New York this spring is distinctly colorful. Chico Kelvert, however, proves the chic of black when she wears a sweet little black flat crepe with that indescribably soft “‘dress- maker” look to its talloring. It has a squarish neek, pleated inserts in its skirt and a suede belt, matching suede pumps. A luscious big orchid decorated one shoulder, caught by a jeweled pin. 8he wears a simple lit- tle cross, instead of beads, a pleasant change. 8kirts are changing their styles, quite subtly. 1 noticed that Marian Wickes at Pierre’s the other day wore a beige satin back crepe that had an original overskirt that waa a jaunty flaring peplum length.on one hip and swung down to become a low flare on the other. Tannish Tones Popular Tannish tones, with & dash of orange, are quite the popular shades. And by all means include one leaf- design in the printed wardrobe, Mrs. Elliet Holt wears & hand-blocked print in the chic tones of brown and tan, with a novel collar that ties it- self all up smartly. Her hat, for this frock, by the , is a lovely, intricately cut fine straw, with its brim ‘made of bound sections that make pleats up the side of the crown. Just another sample of the intricate dressmaker influence that is at work everywhere. Bhirtwal frocks are reminis- cent of the one-time stunning shirt- waist suits that used to tuck-the tail of the blouse inside a long gored skirt. Mrs. -Robert McAdoo is the chic sponsor of one of the newest and smartest of such frocks. An in- definite tan and white print it is, with tabs of white grosgrain, edged in brown, for the tie and similar/ tabs of the frocks’ material simulat. ing fringe on the skirt. A most elab- orate amount of work subordinated to a total effect of simplicity, really. The collar of white is quite plain. Bows and more bows adorn things. ‘When one achieves something new in bows, it Is news, really. Mrs. Sherburn Becker, Jr., did just that, having her little ballibuntl hat band- ed one side in white, the other blue and the blue and white tying separ- ate little bows up the front of the crown that suggested birds on the wing. Her two-eyelet ties had jaunty ribbon bows, too. Mrs. George Rose, Jr., sticks a feather in her hat of brown Milan and gets an original look to it. Rose quartzs comes on apace as quite a smart tone for costume jew- eiry. Personally, I think it takes certain types to wear it, either a de- cidedly brunet one or a fair blonde. It does nothing for the a ge in- between. Mrs. AAderson Danner is one who is enhanced by the delicate coloring. I noticed she wore a love- ly carved brooch and a choker collar of rose quartz, Hats Mock the Sun Hats are growing brims daily, as the sun gets his summer strength. Cornelia Prime is one good loking girl who defies the strongest rays. BShe wore one of the cutest little skull caps I've sen nie laogn Mbhif skull caps I've seen in a long time at Belmont Park. Her cap was quite lovely in the way the faceline was «calloped up to a point in the center of the forehead and then rounded gracefully down over the ears. Diagonal docorations are more than passing stylish. Pryma Tilton, walking up Park avenue with cute little Cornelia Kip, wore a Frenchy looking little coat of beige tone that was entirely covered with diagonal “enervures” as the Parisian calls hand-tucks that weave some kind of a design. She wore a very large brimmed hat with it, one of the few I've been able to locate in town. ———e sport, because he never squeals or grouses. The influence of life in a good camp is all toward the development of those social virtues which life de- mands of everyone. Menas for the Family BY MRS. ALEXANDER GEORGE Menu for Sunday Breakfast — Grapefruit, poached eggs, Austrian coffee cake, coffee. Dinner —Roast beef and browned potatces, buttered green beans, bread, rhubarb conserve, cabbage salad in gelatin, sliced bananas, Jelly cake, coffee. Supper — Rliced heef sandwiches, olives, pear salad, chocolaté cookies, tea or buttermilk. v . MISS MARIAN F. WICKES. 4 teaspoons baking powder. 3 teaspoon salt. 1 tablespoon sugar 1 egs. 4 tablespoons fat, melted 1 cup milk Mix the ingredients and pour into a greased pan. Cover with the top- ping. Topping 4 tablespoons soft butter. 14 cup light brown sugar. 34 teaspoon cinnamon. 1-4 cup shredded almonds. 1-4 cup chopped citron. 1-3 cup curranta. Mix the ingredients and press into the soft dough. Bake in a moderate oven for 20 minutes. Serve warm with butter. ’ Jdelly Cake (Unusual Flavor) 1-4 cup fat. Herald’s Daily “SMART SPORTS DRESS” Pattern 1178 New Britain Herald 15c Practical Pattern Bleeveless frocks rule the fashion world this season, and rightly so when one considers the coolness, comfort and chic of Design 1178. Inverted pleats give ample fullness and swing to the skirt. Colorful grosgrain ribbon trims the frock in smart manner. ‘White and pastel shades are very go0d for sports wear, the white may be trimmed with a vivid color, and the paler shades with a contrasting darker color. Linen, pique and gin, ham are popular materials for such frocks. May be obtained. only in Mizes 16, 18, 20, 34, 36, 38 40 42 and 44. Size 36 requires inch material and 13-8 yards trim- ming. This model is casy to make. No dressmaking experience is necessary. Each pattern comes to you with 2.7-3 yards 40 MRS. ROBERT McADOO. 2-3 cup sugar. 1% cup milk. 1 teaspoon vanilla. 14 teaspoon salt. 1 egs. 1% cups pastry flour. 2 teaspoons baking powder. 1 cup jelly (currant or plum). 14 cup confectioner's sugar. Cream the fat and sugar. Add the milk, vanilla, salt, egg, flour and baking powder and beat for 2 min- utes. Pour into 2 shallow layer cake pans, which Rave been fitted with waxed papers. Bake in a moderate oven for 20 minutes, Beat the jelly |for 1 minute. Use as a filling be- tween the layers of cake. Spread & thin layer on top the cike and sprinkle the top and sides with powdered sugar. i Pattern Service simple and exact instructions includ- | ing yardage for every sige. fect fit is guaranteed. Patterns will be delivered upon re- ceipt of FIFTEEN coins carefully wrapped or stampa. Be sure to write plainly your NAME, ADDRES8, STYLE NUMBER and BIZE wanted. A per- | CENTS (15¢) in | Our NEW 8PRING and SUMMER | FABHION BOOK will be sent upon | receipt of TEN CENTS in coin. Ad- Austrian Coffee Cake, for Sunday Breakfast 2 cups flour, dress all mail and orders to New Britain Herald Pattern Department, 243 W. 17th street, New York City. |