The Seattle Star Newspaper, February 3, 1923, Page 11

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 8, 1928. URSULA TRENT A Novel by W. Copyright, 1981, by E RSULA TRENT, 30. She says che ; is Burleigh 4, on before the war wh was Poses, but che turns them dow LORD O8W ALD, & young momber of ings Now read or CHAPTER Hl Oswald Passes 1 if I were writing a novel, if 1 were sot, greatly for my own pleasure and @ Iittle for my vanity, writing the story of my life, I could not, as T am about to do, put two and a half years of war into a single chapter. And wet it's easy, Forgetfulness wraps our memories Ike the grass that grows on the trenches, One remecn- bers “The Better “Ole,” tho one thinks that one could fill a whole volume with the impressions of the/ first day. But then I didn't recetve impressions. I just had excitements, | Uke other girls, You know, untforma, | and guos going off in places far enough away to be safe. Anda wild feeling of artificial hatred against the Germans, artificial, 1 mean, because one didn’t imagine German properly ; they felt rather like villians at Drury Tane, | I suppose my engagement with Os- | wald had something to do with that. | T don't want to be thought heartless, but on the day of the mass at Vise, Oswald proposed to me. 1 shall | never recover such a moment. He} had come to say goodby, and was al-| ready in khaki. Oswald was the sort | hor: ar * a Page MR. BIER'S STORY “Mr. Curtis was one of those teachers who knows how to be strict and sympathetic at the same time. But woe be unto any boy who thought he could get away with any meanness tn that school. “Tl tell you what he did. “You see,” Mr. Bier went on, “we pioneers are peculiar, not a bit’ Ike schoolboys now, Why, sometimes we even put frogs and litte snakes in the giris’ desks, and pulled their curls or tweaked thetr braids, and we whispered to each other sometimes. And stayed | out longer than we were told we might stay, oh, very, very differ- ent from any schoolboys you ever saw. “And poor Mr. Curtis didn’t aye any teacher's institutes nor PT. As, nor magazine articles to tell him how to get along with his pupils, so he was forced to work out a systerm all his own. “I was pretty careful the first few weeks, trying hard as ever I could to get good marks. (I'll show you what I earned after awhile) But I wasn't too busy to see what was going on around me. “Along about the second week one of the big boys did some thing, I don’t recall what, for which he was punished. “Mr. Curtis got up and stood very still for a minute, just look- lof man whom the iallor would serve L. George farper & Brothers flown to write a well Sh. ns bi god single, 8! a. Thon comer the aristocr her story. | Her in the days has several pro- | 7 with democratic lean first t. He looked extraordi ly handsome; he one of complexion khaki buttons caught up ts chonks; he with his hair cut closer than usual. I don’t think ed him until then, for now he 4s no longer uncertain and tor- tured. His gray eyes had lost all un- certginty as he sald, “This is going to be a big job, so it's a good thing we're starting early.” Then, after @ pause, in that grave, pleasant voice of his, he said, without hesitation, without doubt if facing another job: “Ursula, I've loved you for four years and never told you #0, because I was a doubting fool, But there's no time f pubte now. If you care for me, will you marry me on my first leave? I did not reply at once. Somehow I was disappointed, It ought to have been more fervent. I wished him to under the shadow of death, so that I could weep I dont mean tremble, unless the Crusaders trembled. I suppose they did I nearly said and he, being sen- sitive, must have felt It, for some-| - } Seattle _ « * * and by the men whose suits. Th the s brown of oldier bran tremble 903 ing at him, then he said, “Two of you boys go out and cut me a bunch of switches. Get good ones, Rot too heavy, but good and keen.” The bay who had been bad turped white, The rest of us [| studied bard. “The two boys came back with their bunch of switches. Mr. Curtis looked them over careful- ly, lected one, ran it thru his fingers, then id, “Jim come up front! “Jim shuffled hie feet along. and went “Now, said Mr. Curtis, inying his hand on Jim's shoulder, ‘you've done wrong, and you know it And I'm going to puniah you, and you know that. too. But I'm to let_you choose. you « good witeh, or you every day for ip me,’ mumbled Jim, and took his whipping. ‘as I went to that “I never the other way. Every one of us took our whipping and went out to a “Mr. Curtis would do Rice ‘Whack! with the whip, “My! but you low." t By the t 4a stinging shoulder, ome fear of the whip, but no batred of the teacher, and very little shame. “What did I earn? you. (Continued) I'l show THE ONE-MAN WOMAN BY RUTH AGNES ABELING CHAP. 49—THE BANDIT’S DAUGHTER BEGIN HERE TODAY father of her child, Kate is much perturbed. She is wooed by | JAMES LATHAM, who heips her to gain possession of & trunk Dan owned. De- termined to see if Alice recognizes the trunk, Kate Invites her and Dorothy to | vialt At the home of Kate's father, USTIN PARSONS, with whom the latter The two come, but Allce, seeing | the trunk, gives no sign. The women | Ht to talking of BING LOY, in whose laundry Alice works. | She speaks of ing’s kindness, but dis- claims any thought of using It to her | own advantage. | GO ON WITH THE STORY “I couldn't do that.” The words came in a matter of fact tone. Alice | was merely stating a condition. She | didn’t regard the thing as heroic. | She couldn't impose upon the kind- | ness of Sing Loy and she expected | no credit for not doing so. | “I think I must get a little of that | from my mother,” Alice continued. “T had a wonderful mother.” j “Tell me about her.” Kate was | surprised at the mention of Alice's | mother, for Alice somehow gave one | the impression of being quite de- | tached from the remainder of the | world. It was hard to think of her | a8 @ part of any family. Sane | “My mother—" Alice began, and | then stopped to smile reminiscently, “how I remember the last time I saw | her!—was born on a plantation in| Virginia. It must have been a beau- tiful place because I remember her | showing me pictures of it when I was little; pictures of herself, too, and sire was beautiful. “Her home,” Alice went on, “must have been the kind of # place where | a girl bas everything she needs and wants. Mother was the only daugh- ter, and, of course, that made her even more of a pet than she might have been otherwise. “She was wert North to school. And when she came back she was engaged to someone—someone the whole family approved of and thought quite good enough for her. “Mother never told me about that part. T learned ft from things my father said. And I don't know Just how the rest bappengl, but anyhow | rw tain at, | thing but Lysol | most permanent impression of in for leave to buy So at firat nobody knew at the hox the history of the war. well the note from Lady Halkyn, It | OUR BOARDING HOUSE hing pa hand h edt wanted ty hurt Bo I told the driving him woft, warm fe me I half wished he would go Then no can't analyse beyond a cer-| that powerful ox this wud his passion glimpsed despair, the of the times ef | tn, sense of my mastery blended with my id of this world and cltement I was afr that boils, Oswald looked shelter of his arma. 1 fe there without knowing how crying with excitement he lifted my head to ki me the first kiss of aver, I had a Aiscoverinis the me, to give ps of @ true sense of case. the ment was overlooked by the scythe| of time. | he was My ely | both hard came by the second went in to lunch, and dumplin And when} There had & deal; it b THE SEATTLE STAR like @ wun] Was so shortand just what it ought | d| to ‘oor Child. day before very unt lam Ybostorday py. Try to and can only pray It was bolled be 1 had a I-washed up. action from exefteme Uttle ht to have held a gre come ju nm #O ew cre no longeg preoce Onwald’ was killed | has nothing to learn We are| ful hc work | there ‘Then we) tion ‘ond help # of dumpling without quite know ing what I was doing. Then, in a| life figur sort of stupor ®, quivering like the lid of | qualified then. a And that’s nearly all. strong and permanent; I wanted the! q tthe 1 wasn't It #as only | that feeling, no 1 began to. regret t 1 found myself tl with nt, | think I am heartless?” that I fe as, half afraid, Like half curious, I realized that in lution of & problom.| few weeks I should be a At last I kissed his slightly rough! ture, a woman, cheek in abandonment, and that mo-| pied pure still, impure ‘by Moense. People think young girls don’t brood putting it” st tt OT CE over these things, but we do; we're more than (ie passtonatg male; ho Now the fear was gone; he lay dead out It wasn't like dying at he |1 was seving men die slowly, One et|operation. But being killed out there, it just meant thaf somebody | who had already gone out of one’s still lese tn it. First On 5, and then he wasn't Be I had too much to do, It was joubt, nearly a year I said. “Do you | wald © Doctor Upnor ‘Am 1 a beast it He looked at me thoughtfully. at | “Well no, Feelings aren't com- | puteory. A thing affects you in one other. People say t's 1 way it's your solar 4| way or In al a-| your heart. us | pie in” “That's @ very material way of u 1 went into @ hospital at Woking. After the early rebellion aging scrubbing and wishwashing, came the Dore hell, Think of it; in my whole life I'd seen nothing worne than a cut finger . , . and when at| last 1 was qualified, my first opera. tion was a leg amputation: 1 laugh at myself now as I remember the beads of cold sweat upon iny fore head a» I listened to the grating of the saw on the bone, and Doctor Chorley’s volee coming tomme thru a pale-yellow mist, “If you're going to be sick, go outside.” “I suppose that within a year I could have seen men fried alive while I ate chocolate, One | might think—at least, people say #0 that this sort of thing must harden & girl, Well, I don't know. It takes & lot to harden or to soften p for good. People who never ave done it get a fanciful idea of nurse Th wom to think that we are sweet lke Florence Nightingale, aoothing the fevered brow of the wounded hero, and that in our other hand we hold « lamp. They forget lamps are difficult to Gustave that most E sterilize, Radiating sweet wom hood indeed! We never radiated any- I think lysol ts my the war, I never quite got used to it Tt clung even to the soup. And bis- muth was worse. It was blamuth, I think, that brought about my friend- rhip with « private whom T know enly as Tim, who remarked to me: “Smells like « fairy bower, don't It, | nurse? which shows that there's pros | and cons in this war, It’s smelly out | there, but there's some variety.” Nurse Garthorpe hated the pa- tients. “Yet pho hated me because | they liked me I can still feo! her| very light-blue eyes watching mo) thru her pale eyelashes, and see her long upper lp with an alr of con- tempt. She hated me so much that at first she tried to save me and to take me to church. After her fall ure, I think I ¢ conclude f: tain of her expressions, the ch ones, that she rejoiced tn the a that I would be dammed. Well, if I) \ ami, I hope she'll be there to see me; | it will ease her own pains, | Already the others are dim, except Doctor Chorley, converted from a man into a machine that said things| m cer |like, “That'll do, nurse; don't fun.” Or, “I asked you for a sponge, not) for your opinion.” But young Doc-| tor Upnor passes for a moment across the screen, a more interesting | figure. Ho was very dark, about £0, | and he hadn't the rages of Doctor Chorley. The old man was furtous| because his violent patriotism and his equally violent emotions had ‘com- | pelled him to leave his praction. Doc. | tor Upnor was a ship's doctor and Just before the war had come inves tomarry. His marriage did not pre- vent hia seeking my company and giving me unnecessary trouble with | charta, or sending for me to bring up the medical sheets of cases entirely devold of interest. At the end, he| was even so clumsy that he insisted | on examining my right band for aj fancied deviation of the metacarp. It | was not my fault, for of c J] 1 wasn't alffwed to wear my engage- | ment ring. Also, he Interested me. | He was not a rigid socialist, but rath- | er @ man who had picked up ideas! in the wardroom, a place where one must discuss Ife and th! one’s at wea and the newspapers are a week old. But I didn’t think of! him much until later, for, in Decem- | ber, ‘fourteen, While on night patrol, | Oswald was killed, We were to have | teen married at the end of January. when he expected to get leave. He | was killed just as T was about to put my trousseat pital, and this helped me, for 1 had ho time to absorb myself in what | would have been an immense iba No time for grief . . . that’s almos 1 remember | ~ BUT MARTHA, MDEAR« I CANT POSSIBLY ACCOMPANY AS L HAVE SOME IMPORTANT READINGS 0 GIVE BEFOREA SOCIETV OF ARCHAEOLOGISTS»: BESIDES, FOR & MAN OF MV “MY FATHER WAS JUST A BANDIT—AN “OUTLAW.” mother broke her engagement and ran away with my father, and my father was just a—bandit—an out law.” Alice was silent for quite a space. | Kate, too, refrained from speaking. | Finally the girl took up the story again, | “The home my father took mother to as a bride was a little cabin, ‘way back In the hills of Virginia. At night the lights in Sts windows, asdinst the black of the hills, must have looked Uke star, suspended midway between heaven and earth, so stoop was the crest it huddled against and so black the foliage. “I remember it,” reminiscently, “and even yet I love It. “As a girl—nothing more than a girl—mother went to that cabin and there she lived the remainder of hor | days. I was her only child. Father was away. roving the hills—gone nights and gone days yometimes, “And mother, alone there except for me, in & cabin set down almont in the wilderness, with no carpet on the floor, with very little furniture, with no money, no society, not even any books, somehow managed to stay young and beautiful and, 1 think, happy, until” Alice's voles softened and finally she ceased speaking, (To Be Continued) (Copyright, 1929, by Seattle Stard STETION, IT WOULD LooK SO TERRIBLY DOMESTICATED To BE SEEN SHOOPING ABOUT THE MARKET STALLS WW THE GUISE OF A BUNDLE BEARER !+ = | RE IF You WERE NOUTOTHE MARKET TONIGHT sey Ce 1 SAW YOUR AD IN THE NEWSPAPER For A MAIO ANDO] CAME TO SEE ABour IT - OH YES, | HAVE THESE REFERENCES IF You CARE ‘To ~~, |} Look AT THEM COME iN PLEASE mDuxketo § TALK WITH yo 7 FRECKLES AND HIS FRI OH NES MRS BAKER } KNOW MRS, BAKER- elt bred or well off J read it two or three times; it| Was told things about thelr condi-|the next does quite as ‘There was chatter about an| smiled If he lose “You can’t poi away from it. Bome- | been from the sweet woman | so horribly iqnoramt that we brood | times I think that love is merely «| | morbid secretion We have degenerated a lo The stag docar his mate is well * his mate well” He “In that sense wo may not{ cak » different, I laughed. pers made me tell|Upnor sv later, | sonable “You peop! are good for you of reality Ingham cup he said, “these wars | ors Gives you @ touch | got a maid who isn It's n two wandered away from Os hist y revealed 6 democratic the fact that most of the world ts drinking stewed t Ever seen a b no BY’ Coney out OUR WAY r all can't help Itking |b cynician when it goes far enough. | day we had a long talk. It} again t good. for anybody | Wh to drink his chocolate out of & Kock- | It cuts you off from a out of chipped | live ey He noftened. ou I'm making. ald tuto imperitent as to 4 Dootor | pathy, But, y unrea-| another, I've t 1 know hatred of I think the p rather a slack, trrese fast table | crockery Jolf balls, tennis balls 1 doct cept the globe. LEONARD, IF | FALL DOWN AGAIN, SLL Qorr TRYING TO SKATE AND TAKE UP SOME OTHER I said aggressively, ng what I am.” ‘Oh, tts not a charge offer 1 a lot to my | ps ot poxsiti n especially; they're generally bad mail one can afford te w to die,” merely knock ball about ‘They'll take a swipe at 4 T can't I'm'not ¢ one way and do with hips, lad when one’s| And, on the is they're I said. know b cricket balla. | him from making ything ex-|that day da cabinet PAGE 11 t, as if for Oswald, prevented know tht ia and Helly itellectua? 16 zeles. At ote red pooplt i servants 4 no hace mind my says e born rich and whales throws ndustrial move y Me on the no until the im hem back inte * upper clam \ of themy them small nd a sort of anees to me (Continued Monday) BY WILLIAMS WeYEWELL IF YOU FALL HERE YOU CAN “TAKE UP SWIMMING FOR A CHANGE. YouR REFERENCES READ FINE ~ THEY SAY You ARE DEPENDABLE ~- TELLME, ARE YOUA Good cooK OF COURSE I'MA GooD cdoK AND EVERY DAY IN EVERY WAY I'M GETTING BETTER AND VERBS TEN CENTS “DGET A LosF & BOGAD WMav= T Don't ‘ef GOING ADDRESS’ | & WALL FULL OF ENVELOPES “TONIGHT, Youll TRoT ALONG With ME Now AND CARRY THAT MARKET BAG!! we cin Cran | aAtaxmn 4 ornck,cst } Y AHERN EZ We Was some READINGS 10 GINE “Ha-Ha WE'D BE Down) I) GOMEBODYS CELLAR, AND AN! MANYS. He | vere a F) “WW NiGkT He ABL| wr READ TW EY BROUG CARRYING ANY BUNDLES = 6000 HEANENS S WEZE Of EARTH DID You GET BY BLOSSER Tr DONT cosT” A DENNY ENEN — THE.OLD HOME TOWN THE WOODEN PAIL DISPLAY, IN FRONT OF THE RACKET STORE > WAS “TOTALLY WRECKED BY A STRANGE DRIVER, WHO LOST CONTROL. OF HIS HORSE AT THIS BUSY CORNER ToDAy. ?