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About The Omaha morning bee. (Omaha [Neb.]) 1922-1927 | View Entire Issue (Sept. 6, 1924)
JO ELLEN - By ALEXANDER BLACK. Copyright, 1924. J (Continued From Ye«ter<1»T.) H« wa« talking about tha roof now. *'I haven't eald a word," he went on, "about—about what hae been hap pening to you. Bilt I know. That's a nasty part of It—It Isn't any secret. It can't be eoveied up. Talked about —In the family. A rotten position to put you in—my aunt taking It out on you. Ton! It isn't fair. Why should you die on a Job like that? And that’s the way It would be. Founding at you—beating you down —getting you. You've a right to live. Just because luck hit Marty hard, why should you be knocked out? It wasn’t your fault. You’ve played square as long ae anybody could. You can't do any more except—I know* what I'm saying—except make things worse. Honest to God. you’re In the way!” He tightened his grip on her fin gers. "That sounds pretty bad. I mean it. You're being trampled on. If you went back home — uptown—what would you be? All hands would call you a quitter. They would. And you've got to quit or be squeezed dry —smashed altogether. If you cottld quit and live!-” Te turned to grasp her arms, and to talk with his face very close. "Jo Ellen, there's only one way. I love you. If I could prov* that. I'd be proving a lot more at tbs same time. If I could take you away, a long ways off. where everything would be different, where we’d both have a chance to get started right—I can see that—our being together— getting started light-” .She did not answer him. Hhe was seeing the picture on the wall oppo site, and how it blurred. lie had it figured out that when w they came back—in their own good time—there would be the great ad Jnstment. Somehow they would be married. By then he would have proved himself, proved his right to stride beside her. There would he the shock when she went away. He acknowledged this. But even her people would remember what she was leaving behind. They would remem ber that she was shaking off some thing impossible and that she was swav In the open, living a wonderful adventure. When she straightened as If threat ening to rise, he put his arms about her. “They’d know you went because you had to get aw’av." he said, with a quickened pace. "They d see that it. was the short cut—that you had the courage to brenk a chain that never oueht to have been fastened on you—that you broke it In the quick way that saves all the family argument—like a girl eloping because «he was frightened about a fussy wed ding And I’d be the happiest man on the top of the earth—happier than Vve ever had a chance to be. I think I know how to make you happy." {the stirred at this. He was eager to interrupt the thought he surmised^ ”1 have a failure against nib I know that. Cora and T Just couldn t make a go of It. I hope you won t /- - | New York --Day by Day _J rv o. o. McIntyre. Cherbourg, Pept. 6.—This town is one of the quaintest and oldest spots In Normandy. The tender came out for us after breakfast. It Is here one comes in touch with the Insolence of European tipping. The porters are the wildest brigands In all Europe. No matter what you give them as a pourbolre, they greet <t with a sneering gesture. Cherbourg is un touched by progress—r*g carts, bi cycles, horses and buggies drift through the streets. Not a motor car was to be seen. There are homes hundreds of years old lining the water front, and the business of the town centers there It is a clear-cut etching of simplicity against a background of lovely green hills. The customs inspection In France is casual and done with dis patch. The train to Paris waited on the siding, and within the hour we were off to the capital. Peasant men and women were pitching hay in the fields. T,Itt.le cottage walls were abloom with hollyhocks and other bright flowers. A glorious sun shone brightly and dappled the beautiful tree-lined lanes that help make France one of the world's beauty spots. Few passengers slept last night, yet It would seem a sacrilege to nod amid euch vibrant beauty. * Each compartment holds «It pas sengers. As I write we pass by Neully- Every home has 11 s garden and little goat herd. And laborers A* reet under trees swig white wine frona brown Jugs. There is a pano ramf of stately trees, cathedra! spires piercing tbs clouds snd drifting puffs of clouds egg beaten white. The little train with Its comic pea nut whistle races along thp country tide, and peasants look up and wave In a friendly way. In tuch pastoral pleasantness it Is difficult to think of the fields of France eoaked with human blood such a short time ago. The most beautiful of all winged creatures to me are the sea gulls. Their graceful sweeps and sudden darts stir the pulse They are able to sight Incoming liners farther eway than the binoculars register. Forty eight hours from Cherbourg break water two of them swung In behind the ship to dive for the kitchen refuse. Ea<-h liner means a. holiday feast, snd the seagull is the rlrst to wel come voyagers to land, with their grotesque and eerie cry. French beer is palatable, but Is served almost warm. The customs station Is a aort of "First Chance" ■sloon, where thirsty Americans have a throwback to the days of the brass rail and white-coated bartender. Along the railroad tracks one missed the telephone snd telegraph poles flashing by. Vet the fields of popples are preferable. And there are no unsightly advertising billboards In the farm lands. We approach Caen along a quiet mill el ream. It gives the first toueh of mstropolitan swank A few tlmofielnee are In the side streets— j also a cow or two. On a siding In the station is a ssrond rises train With mamsa and papas and young goslings starling off on s holiday to Paris. On# of the train Jokers from New York certainly—Cries-. "We will now hear the French phensnnts elng ‘the mayonnaise! " These simple, kindly folk look to me as though they are getting niurli more out of Ilfs than yout average New Yorker, t'.vgi right, IK*.; let that mean too much. Maybe a man might learn a lot from a {allure. I'm not like I Vas. I want to prove that you’ve been—yes, an Inspiration, the great big Idea that make* a man vaat to bo his best. I see Just what I’m going to do." "You have It all thought out,” Jo Ellen said, with on Inflection that mystified him for a moment. “Thought out—yes. I've been doing a lot of planning. I wouldn’t have a right to say a word to you—not this word—unlesa I had. I'd have to be able to tell you the how of it—how we could slip away. Listen to this—” The plan was, Indeed, elaborately thought out; how she was to resign at Eberly's, telling them she Had been married for months—which would stop all that argument—but leaving the roof on the Intervening days at her usual hour in the morn ing; how the ship affair was already being arranged—no, not definitely, of course, but so that nothing should confuse him or introduce any awk wardness whatever—a ship stopping In the West Indies—and then making the splendid long reach. . . . The voyage would be a dream. And then . . . South America . . . His arms tightened until she was drawn with head thrown back. His lips burned again and again . . . until she struggled free. She stood at the window looking down, at the changed fifth-floor angle, into the turmoil of the street. He stood behind her, a shoulder against the frame of the window, hands at her waist, and pleaded for a word that would tell him he might let a gorgeous dream go on unfolding as a reality. She abandoned her mind for a long moment to that word reality, to the fearftn vividness of the new meaning that burst into the sylables . . . as if her wish for a real world had been an astonishingly Wind thing that could be frightened stiff by an answer. She wondered why she didn't know what she would do; why she hadn't flung out, Instantly, an hon est No! She wondered why she couldn’t speak at all, why two kinds of speech wedged In her throat, as If there w-ere two of her strangling each other. It was idiotic to be speechless. He could go on building anything he liked in such a silence, and she herself was, perhaps, In some way being engulfed by it. “I'm not lying.” she said at last. "Lying After the silence this was amazingly obscure. He looked at her with a puzzled eager ness. “I mean that I’m not letting you go on and—and pretending. I can't tell you what I—no, I ran’t. There's no use telling you what I've been feel ing. You think you guess a lot of it. Maybe you do. I’ve let you say some thing because—well, I will have to get away—when the minuta comes— when I—” "Before they smash you.” "And I've let you go on because I want to get.away. I could go back to Inwood. That might seem like getting sway, after I had gone. I don’t know, ft seems now as if it wouldn’t—as If it was Inwood I was afraid of. I suppose I'm Just a coward—” "O no!” "Another girl might stick it out without whining. Another girl might not be hated so much. That would help—or not have home people loving her so much, and that would make it simpler, yv>—can’t you see that?" He could see arguments racing hack and forth, and this was painful. There should be the one dominating thing that would brush these away. If you began arguing . . . "Let love decide all that,” he said. "The great thing—” She turned to look into his face, very steadily-. He met the look with out speaking. The sheen of her eyes was enormously disturbing. He gath eher her close, until their faces were but a hand's width apart. "I'll tell you on Monday.” she said. He repeated, "On Monday.” "I mean, I'll write Yes. if I derld" Yes— you'll know all that would mean. If I decide No, I don t want to write it. If you don’t hear, you'd better forget me.” He made a movement of protest. ' I never could do that.” "If—if I decide that T can't—you understand—that I can't you 11 have to let me go on thinking that." "If I don't get any word—” "That'll be the end of it—the very end. You’ll he off to South America to make your fortune." "But you'll come In tomorrow after noon?” This would be Saturday. “No.” She was firm. "I must have a little time. That's little enough." She released herself and he drew up with her as she turned toward the AUBURN MILKMAN HEIR TO FORTUNE Auburn. Sept. 5.—Tobe Wight, a lo cal milkman, haa received word from Scranton. Pa., that hla uncle. John Wight. 99. haa died and left hla three nephews his entire estate valued at $90,009. $50,000 being In real estate and $40,000 In cash. Mr. Wight de clares ha will continue to live as of old with a few added comforts and a strengthening of hla dairy herd. While In the east, he Bays, ha will rlalt soma of the noted dairy farms and get •oma new Ideas. Defense Day Mobilization Plan* Made at Holdrege Holdrege, Hept. S.—At a meeting of Ph»lpe Oounty Officers association and American legion plana were mad* for the coming National Oe fenae Hay mobilization on September 12. There will he mobilized here: One motor transport company, of 80 man; one motor repair section of 80 men. one hospital and replacement company, and two reserves eornpan ;eg, made up of civilians. Committee* were appdlnted to handle all of these bodies. Arrangements will be made for an addreee on •’National r>efenae'- In the afternoon and * parade In the even ing of the defense unite and all other civil organizations la plnnned. Hites Conducted by F.lka at Burial nf H. A. Messmore Beatrice, Kept. 5 Funeral service* for If. A. Meaamore. who died sud denly at Omaha of pneumonia, were held at the Hcott Harman chapel, helrig conducted by Tfev. ( Ft. Han kins Burial was In Kvergreen Home cemetery. F.lka lodge of this city was In charge at the grave Mr. Meaamore was the fnlhei of County Judge Meaamore of this rltj Miss K Upper Weds. Bfn.trlrf, Hept. f» Annoumemant bna b**n raoalvarl her* of tho mnr ring* of Mias Bartba K Upper, former !v of Plymouth, to Martin Honk* of Krum* Pity, at Council Bluffg T* The bridegroom ta ronnert#$i with the Kanaaa City Mice! cm company. door. “I’ll he counting the hour*, and lo\ lng you all the time. Send me a lit tle note—the hour, you know—Til he i here at the stroke of the clock you set." He thought to Jt1ss her again He felt surest about her when their lips were together. But her way of mov ing forbade him. That great thing he had spoken of was fragile. And mysterious. If she hadn't been the greatest mystery he evt*r met, ne would not have been standing there watching her take hold of the knob of the (loot, _ With h$r back toward him, aha might have been addressing the door in that murmured last speech. "I'll know, when I can think it out.” Then she swung round with a star tling effect of defiance, as if she were hurling some retort at him. "And I promise you that for once In my life I'm going to do exactly what t want to do. Goodby!” Taken by itself this could mean any thing. Lamar, standing with eyes on the closed door, decided, quite nat urally, that the meaning narrowed, for him, to a Yes or No. with Yes swaRRerlnir. H* lighted a clararet and picked up his hat. XIV. To Jo Ellen the question was a rep nothin)? appeared to b* simplest of tile wriRjchnR in her bosom. Defi ance could be simple; decision irrew no almpller. At one moment doInK 'all. At another, doln* noth Inc—* \ I during—wore tin vi*a£' li t o* r I Impossible thine. ( |o Ilf I ontlmiffl Mflmlnj.1 Some of the newest pocket* «* atreet cloths are very lai • «u-<J !»■ plied to Kite the effect of a drapery. THE NEBBS YOU FLATTER ME. Directed for The Omaha Bee by Sol Hess -wesTX oumr.kiebbX ' /biscuits 'hoo-bca ruffTWERX / good roR dost — wou I (> WOMAN SEWMGS swings ■ j ' _-TuiLY-fte >OOD roR "Wt P^GCLS^y' NOT fLATTERlNG^- v //"wELL I AlKlT"'v / VOU — yOO'RE A MARVELOUS' /RUNNING AWW TROM \ Cook"—wwat a jewel or \ nobodv-- \r you \ AW\FE yOO’D MAUX’rOP ( get aCwamcc SOME MAN - WHy t NEVER \ MENTON \T TO SOME ATE SuCW WONDERruLLV Or.TNCSC ^OunG 1 PREPARED FOOD—} Some / EELLOvajS arounO $53! VTFSClI \ '-'(ST: WOW \T PATS TO ~X / pratSE Good mjoqx’.awo ^ I AT THE SAME T\ME SPREAD \ ! Su^SV-UWE ^TO.TWE UTES \" I or OTHERS? I'M A DIPLOMAT j \ l AM - 1 COULD ELATTER » / \A TRAMP TNTO a DATS VMOPVC/ —T— £ ^ .: [i -m m (Copyright. 1924. hv The Bell Syndeatt. Inc ) "fl**, ’' v _ 1 —' - , - . . J % --■/• liatnrii. a 1—u » :-- ■ ■ — ■ - , - ~ ■ - _ _~ _ _—-— -— ——---— f Barney Google and Spark Plug Maybe Barney's Willing to Ride Behind Trotski Now. cw" for Th' by Billy D'Reck SPARK PIV3G VJ1H% * S.OOC^ MEMPHIS ClASSIC r">: >A/N« . jiMwif o<^»(» \ .' |iu • Pit*** <-g\j'«TnA4i CJ~ QMAP «€ ^C(S«MAW r-, MISTER rfoCKJlE AS Twt 1 «€L SOMEUIUAT/ ACYIW6 MAYOR OE Memphis ROW* SUED NOV I OOM6PATULATE "YOU WAITER -• —-TT.-il I AMD take Pleasure &et me a in POES,VMTnJo To YOU -v TfcM Jyr% Too tvms Purse op —l.ate Vo« ‘ V * 50CC‘>- in 6010 / [ Taxi.s ) { t^eres i 4k nniMriMr I TD CATL1CD *.«Is»er«d SEE jigcs and magcie in full DKIINuImU Ul r /A 1 riLl\ V. a. Patent OIHea PAGE OF COLORS IN THE SUNDAY DEE / - ___ Drawn for The Omaha Bee by McManu* <Copyr:jrbt 1924) ft 9® k _ ---atso thet _J SAT OO 11 j plat antthinc, TELL THET KEEF N^! ’ST REQUEyr them TO C,o OUT that OP | WHAT WOULD TOO AM' PLAY SOME. ALL*) AT 3 | L.KErsTOHAVE COLP-I WANNA VI/Va °lat-’ eat • I"A. - VW - «, JERRY ON THE JOB ENJOYABLE VACATIONING Drawn for The Omaha Bee by Hoban . • (Copyright J»24) 'TVfc'T VN*T ’ • W’scM NN OoE?rioA^|/^itu-*'VJS _ . ^OUW ^wow>Tb«s UEC.rS >Su2f^tUE w?etc ' Gb't w^n' j Moott, vjACAt.on*VN>kA'rs-/J ' « WA^E WE.lC vust'tooo ’* 7( 0c£/^J V -*>- y ^ 1 \/«am»wewTf V /' 1 / -i- I MRifc / _ — -*~«*'v-> »>* - When a Feller Needs a Friend By Briggs g 1 .. ■ MW ■ ———— ■■ . IWHA^r are: You Goin<£ To j Call him ? ll ' fy,. ABIE THE AGENT Drawn for The Omaha Bee by Hershfield Peci«ion« Take Time. i||=r moo * 'this’ll Be jtilBi emt> BtTu.eeK. 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