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About The Omaha morning bee. (Omaha [Neb.]) 1922-1927 | View Entire Issue (July 23, 1924)
JO ELLEN By ALEXANDER BLACK. copyright. »n. V._:____' (Continued From Yesterday.) Jo Ellen's first glimpses of the the Atrlcal were not from the tinsel side The obscurities seemed more definiti than the revelations. The grount glass door hptween her little roon •nd Mr. Eberly's remained closed un til the hur.zer sounded. Her othei floor, leading Into the outer office remained open. There were acme pen pie who must await audience in th< outer office as the boy Aaron might elect. Others felt free to wander t. Jo Ellen's door to make inquiries Some of these Jo Ellen found Imprea slvely peculiar. Amazing women With hand on hip, and shouldei against the door frame, asked, “How •bout hint?” There were men wit! experienced faces who came to tlu floor with oblique cigarets to mutter “No?'' th'lrty! The soothing alliteration can not, I fear, stanch my wound. I yearn for him, gentle creature, I, a - friend of his bosom. I go: I shall re turn. Tf so thou wilt, when he hath arrived, make It snappy.” There were certain persons, nota bly one very beautiful blonde girl, of whose Importance Jo Ellen became aware through the solicitudes of Mrs. Finney. Mr. Kberly being late for an appointment. the blonde girl strolled into Jo Ellen's room to say. quite amiably, "What lovely hair you have!” “Tanks,” said Jo Ellen. “Yes- a natural wave, too?” “Always kinks up when It's damp “T.urky! Mine flattens right out. t Vuldn't do without a permanent. “Your hair is wonderful," remarked Jo Ellen sincerely. “They tell me that. Gonney's slip ping in a gag about It. Where's the old man? Off to enlist or some Mr. .jyoeriv nan « privme emruii" door, a* well as the doors into the outer office and into Jo Ellen's quar ter*. At a later tune Jo Ellen heftj« this private entrance alluded to •‘the getaway.” That the chief had need of the privilege to steal in 01 out in avoidance »»f the common wait ing room was soon to he admitted, .b Ellen acquired a sympathetic partici patfon in the machinery of protection It became plain that lie couldn’t see them all. To watch him wince ai ft new name was sufficient to make one understand how the premature furrows came. If Aaron was ada mant, there was some explanation in the frozen glare he received from Mr. Eberly when he. thrust himself into the presence. There were callers whom Jo Ellen fptind acutely diverting. These were often strange looking, and they per formed without encouragement. For example, there was Jarneek, who man aged something, and certainly must do it savagely. He blazed with de sires. His exuberant hostility, voiced in a whisper with an edge, his tare meanwhile extraordinarily busy, was an entertainment in itself. At the beginning Jo Ellen always expected that something explosive would cer tainly follow his actual contact with Mr. Eberly. She listened for the detonation. When the transmitted murmur was. if at all different, soft er than usual, she was reassured and permitted herself to welcome the vis its of Jerreck until such time as he should burn out the fuse. And then there was Cannerton, who was a playwright or an actor or both, the long-faced man with the funny lock of hair, who on the first after neon came to Jo Ellen’s door with an air of an habitue. “Fair lady," he said, “hath thy sainted boas returned?” "He hath not," Jo Ellen replied promptly. *•& grievous thing," he murmured, ‘‘that thou shouldst thus be forced to become the bearer of sad tidings. ■Would it wound thy proud spirit to Inform thine abject slave Just when, or even approximately when, his majesty will or might or should or, perchance, hath pledged himself to wurn?" "Perhape. afer three-thirty you might—’’ , "Curses! And I bleed! Three *---' New York —Day by Day _/ “Are you Miss Farrand?" “That same." “He's expecting you " “O he’s expecting! He’s the great est little exporter! And isn't here. That's what Nugent calls symbolism The man—expecting—and taking his own time.'' Jo Ellen heard a sound. "He's here.* she said. “I’ll tell him." When he was late Mr. Eberly al ways had an air of blaming the one who waited. Hut he was gracious with Miss Farrand. Although his voice could he very lead, or nt least very penetrating, he had a low tone for Jo Ellen. She concluded that his treatment of her was what you would call respectful. Uncle Ben had wanted an early re port as, to his manner. The assump tion seemed to be that at the first suggestion of a brutality Bogert would drop in to break his thentri cal head. “There's not much to him," said Jo Ellen. “I think I could throw him myself. But he's big at the top." “You think he has some bean.” “A wonderful bean." “In that case,".said Bogert, "1 guess you're likely to be respectful to him." “O very respectful,” sdmitted Jo Ellen. , Her uncle's word reminded Jo Ellen that Mr. Eberly never seemed to use slang, aside from certain _ Jargon words of the theater. He was to the last an unsolved puzzle to her. There was about him something blighted and bitter. From her viewpoint lie had an effect of lonesomeness, per haps because she fancied him as cyni cally aloof. When he was acrid, and fulfilled the promise of his face, he was not so appalling as when he be came velvety. Cannerton described one fact oi him when he exclaimed, dramatically, with a flip of hto cigaret-stalned fingers, “He rules me with a rod of Irony.” , _ His letters were terse and com. There might be a different flavor In the few letters he wrote with his Jerky script. He ^id not put these In the letter basket, presumably drop ping them In the mail chute himself on hi> way out. . „ _ ■ Jo Ellen wondered what his inti mates, if he had any, really thought of him. Evidently he had friends, even if you couldn't assume too much from the number of letters that be gan with a first name. These letters were not less crisp. They sounded hurried, perhaps because she had grown accustomed to the redundant leisureliness of Mr. Trupp's episto lary style. Mr. Eberly was always moving to the next thing. The mo mentum bore all the evidences of being unbroken. Jo Ellen asked her self whether it was possible that his nervous life ever reached a pause: whether there was ever a time in any place, alone or In any company, when he was less a machine, when he was Jolly or even smiled. X. By O. O. M’INTYRE. New York, July 23.—The little building on lower Broadway that housed The Place—a famous bar of 30 years ago—has been tom down. To .New Yorkers of that period there are many fruity memories. The Place was a spot where men drank liquor like gentlemen. , The proprietor was a wit of the section. On a little shelf he had a cheese and Knife and beside It a cracker bowl, but never In the mem ory of the oldest patron were there any crackers in it. The bar was a few blocks below Fourteenth street, then the Rialto. All the actors and managers used to drop In there after the matinee and evnlng performances. It was an offense for one to show his liquor. If he felt himself growing tipsy there was an unwritten code he must leave. The most expensive drink was 30 cents—a mint Julep served In a frost ed silver shaker. The Place did not open until noon. It was the proprie tor's conviction that men who drank in the morning were not the sort of patrons he desired. Long before prohibition lousiness grew away from The Place but it whs such a restful spot that many went from uptown down there just to talk of the other days. On a wall hung this printed card with the.proprietor's signature: "It is foolish for men to drink and every one is better off without alcohol. Some day the nation will smite the saloon hut so long as men do drink The Place wants them to have a respectable surrounding.” It was the only saloon In New York with a library. The books wei^ care fully selected. A local editorial com menting upon the razing of the build ing' said. "Had these been more sa loons like The Place there would have been no reason for prohlbl tlon.” It has been found that 8ft per rent of the girls on the New York stage have their mothers or fathers wslt for them at the stage door follow ing a performance. When daughter goes for a Job mother goes along. When daughter talks salary, so does mother. Whan daughter goea on the road, on the road goes mother. Theat rical producer! do not like the "stage mama.” Thay know the mother is always fighting for the highest salary and for prominent parts. In the death of E. J. Edwards Journalism lost the father of “the New York letter.” He began to write under his pen name "Holland.” hack In the 80s. He was an Intimate of men like William H. Vanderbilt, J. Plsrpont Morgan, Jay Gould and Uttauncey M. Depew. He made It ft rule never to quote big men direct, hut wrote with an authority that con vinced his readera he hftd hie informa tion from the fountain head. In hln later years he lived st. the Union League club and bis face wns famll lar to thousands who strolled along Fifth avenue. Each afternoon at 8 Edwards occupied the same chair In one of the club windows. Another face that Is familiar to New York Is that of a man who every day at the noon hour leans against a subway kiosk at Broadway and Forty second street. He la middle aged and it la supposed he works Jn the neighborhood. Rain, snow nr f- Ir weather he la always there at the ar.me hour and has been for about eight years. (copyright, One letter, dictated in early Sep tember, became at once the most absorbing document Jo Ellen had ever been called upon to transmit. "Dear Mat," paid Mr. Eberly with a piece of correspondence in his hand, "Will you please ask your son to call at four o’clock on Thursday? Yours." The letter Mr. Eberly held took its place in the heap she carried with her to her desk. It was not until she reached it in the course of her typ ing that she noticed that the sheet signed "Mat” bore the heading. "Matthew Lamar. Contractor," and that the son was Stanley. Jo Ellen refused to regard it as one of those fantastic coincidences that get into plays and novels. There might be a sort of coincidence In the fact that Mat Lamar knew Larry Eberly well enough to ask for a Job for his son just back fron the west But the request had another mean ing, unknown to the father or th' father’s friend. It was no coincidence at. all It was a trick of Stan’s, lie wanted a footing. In his sleuthing way he had found out where she was. He would have thought it wns a coin ddence that her chief should be Eber ly. She doubted whether he Intended actually to ask, anything from Eber ly. It was a trick. He would see her somehow and establish a quotable basis of acquaintance. She felt the blood In her face ns she clicked through the letter. She was with Mr. Eberly at four on Thursday when Aaron came In with the slip of paper. •Right!’' said Eberly. This meant that Aaron might elec trlcally disappear and send in the caller. She saw Stan pass.her door looking I WANT YOU TO CALL ON / N. / NE&&8 SUOER WHM T*-tESE. \ f VOO'R-E \ PAPERS - mGOiNGTo \fCERTWMLTmvaNG\ MOVP^CL TvAty\ *>7.0.000 AND At /\ VERT LV&ERftL j FLOPT K STOCK COMPASW FOR \ PROPOS\T\OJ,S\R / TMEt^ POR f\ WfcLP f'MLUONi OOb j\. J Lf\RS - WE’RE TO GET 10*1° POR L/^7 WPWDUMG TvC PROPOSITION! — \ you LEI*VE TvAE PAPERS W\TH / Ffc*—=£75 Vtre^ tor their approval But -S Cb \ IMPRESS ON TWErr TO CLOSE A.S j f ^ j ^ SOONJ &S POSStBLE / l j HELLO GARNET XM JUVT Y X CAN T ftfe \ ON MN U)AN To MEET MS V BOTHERED MEeTiN WIFE S KID SISTER F*OM j WEENIES JOE jopun • come om along I tw planning V SHE ? HEARD MR A X. V Tp'p /nTo Tfce. ! lg) SPEAK OR TOO - Vovj'll J WILDS OF CANADA' agJy^MAKE. A MlT WITH HER /[M JUST ON MV I wat t« Bun a [ Roughing outfit ^ \ Xll See Too \ when r <&rf \. BACKy-y E" “ f tmi* tktmo or m OTTlN OP AT I i r — IN THt MOANIN't* U —tfj-i — C'TTIN oh fT< NCRVC* • ' i| ^ f T\*. Gen Ajo-twra vdea ] /-n,A-r x * good ' Tbe Cupo^ ’EvPeaises'-y ( <0lA m <50 y Vid^^Lcrrs'.’-A \ -ro'.iT r Aso TTU. SifAkAE <SCE/rr /-‘ y __^ 3<yV TO GtMfc/E* < '--y Twf .ntowsr. / ( 1 Me and Mine By Briggs [ AH-H- DON'T TALK *Tb I \ Mt ABOUT .SUnJBURnJ^ / JUST LOOK at This ToP / l op mv KCAO- t csuess / \ That’s JOMe 80RM ^u/hat ? A (A / ( wen. fob that mattctr \ J look at Tms Back op I f MT MECK-- I <SOlSSS Yc\J I \ NlCyeR SAW AfOVTHUsKjr / l uni That!? th«t'5 7 \ £5aio<3 erouj - y . 1 - 1_W/1 WHY That'S NOTHING - l NEARLY Die D LAST Y»=A« -* l ALMOST MAD BRAtM Fev/SR. AWD MY Temperature was 150 i Guess That's Sumthim' y, Jim_* / yi_si_- _ . ( Jim WOULDN'T 8t A j ) HMf BAD FEllOVAj IF HC’D J ( OWLY GST OVER TV|*T J \ HABIT OF LY|W<i j — W"w f r ■ 1 . I . 1 / i. VOOUJ^ HOW ppec> ) LO^ES To hear* M-3gLF^TauK - cam* detached. Eberly started to dictate a letter, then lifted his phone. “Get me Zimmer," he muttered, to the ear at the switchboard. A flicker of his hand Indicated that Jo Ellen was free to bo back to her machine. Zimmer was the president of a scenic corporation. As events proved, he was being told to provide, If possible, for the young man who would see him on the following day. Without knowing exactly what was happening at the telephone. Jo El len found herself knowing that Stan would be placed; that he would be where he could hover; that ahe could no longer think of him M one who might break through by adventurous chance, yet who conveniently dinar ^ared or might be run away from. He thua became Immanent, and by in* tent. (To Be Continued Tomorrow.) straight ahead. In five minutes she saw him pass in the other direction and heard his quick stride recede. He had not looked to right nor left. In the momentary Interval before the buzzer summoned her she had attached Stan Tamar to Kberly’s staff. But In another moment he be Directed for The Omaha Bee by bol Hese ____ -1 THE NEBBS his master’s voice. /TmAT S all RvGhT- MR. NE&& VS A '~'N. / personal prveno or mune and uz \ MAS A VajELL or MARVELOUS MEALTvR j GIVING WATEP AND VTVS ONLY JUSTICE j 1 TO HOMVANVTV TQTE.LLTNE. WORLO / \ A&OOT VT ANT? Gwc THE PEOPLE. A / V CWANCE “TO G>UY 'T ^-■ / ^ tf_J /-THAT WAS A PRETTV SPEECH OF THE \ BOSS* BUT vriONCV HAD A NICKEL \ AMO IT WAS BETWEEN ME AND ( STARVATION I'D BET \T AGAINST 1 A LAST WEEK S NEWSPAPER AT/-fc \ I'M ON NO MISSION Or vflg benevolencer^.z: <%tE3frcrlrt! To Continued (Copyrigh* 1924 by Th« Bril Syndic^**’ - -- Barney Google and Spark Plug ONE LOOK AND BARNEY CHANGES HIS MIND. P™"» f°r Th« Qm«h» B«« by Billy DeB«ck [ ^(STOH To WAIT \ '"I DE BOSS ) \ WIU- U* IW / V FlV/E MlWUTfS / SUM I_IV*. by K,n7R.<ur~ Symfafr. Iflr | |Cmt BriUU. rith«. r,MrveJ___I-- J* W 't¥^* J - -- DDIMriMr | in r A TLirp Ragiateraj see jiggs and maggie in full Drawn for The Omaha Bee by McManus pKIIMlIllll V/r r 1 flLlV U. S. Patent Olflea PAGE OF COLORS IN THE SUNDAY BEE (Copyright 1924) I—| MAGGIE! Y OH! MAGGIE!] I p s ■— 1 CUO OF make ABtTQT COPPEE. AM' TOUA. wire ah oroer. *NO wweR< or HAM AH WM,u •M © *924 • Y l«rr u rCAtvut Scwvicc. Nc. j ■ f \ Cr»aTBnUinrifhH»r«t*rv»<f. \ JERRY ON THE JOB with a thought of safety Pr,wn for,J!“ P'??.!’* B”^y Hoban ABIE THE AGENT Drawn for lhe Umana Bee by Hersnneld H<» Choos** lh» Evil. Awiofrii** wwius.'f' *«*rTIME f| ^ }}l£^ “ K I YkAY Hfc’S STAYED I Vi^° ^ *** , Away ay kujhy ) \ 1 1 \m 'rew^acy / V 1p,w him foa L >Vujorr