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About The Omaha morning bee. (Omaha [Neb.]) 1922-1927 | View Entire Issue (Nov. 4, 1924)
I, THE KING Hy WAYLAND WELLS WILLIAMS. ' (Copiritbt. (Continued from Tmterdny.) Kit. lay on one elbow, half seeing, half lira ring in a sort ot supercon aeiousness. Now for the first time since he had landed he ceased feel ing astray and bewildered. He felt at home. He frit alive and happy— in a new and intoxicating sense. The magic of the South, that mysterious, hitherto withheld thing, was on him at last. It meant, now that he knew It. case and safety and warmth, yes, but something much more than those, tt glowed with human affection; It hinted of stars and the open sea and great solt darknesses; it was instinct with the (lame ot life and the calm ness of death. It stood sponsor to man for the irresistible forces of the universe. "Look on me!" it rippled in its waters, sang in its music, sighed in its winds; "look on me, pale prisoner of a man made world, and know what sanctity, what beauty and what peace the Power who made you intended! Regret nothing; remember nothing: only look, and know! I,lsten, and know'! Dream, and know!” Oh. yes, he would look, listen and dream. There was nothing else; there was no true life but in sur render to this divine and final sense. To strive, worry, despair, feel lost— looli&h, foolish. Nothing was ever lost. To accept what came, to smile at everything, to return at last to that dim place whence one first issued —that was all. . . . III. \s he lay dreaming In the quicken ing music a strange thing happened. With a shout Kakaiwia suddenly rose and leaped into the arena. "Nuei shall he our king!" he bellowed, picking up the rhythm of the dance. “He will fight for us against the uakana! Nuei shall he our king! He will lead us against the uakana!” The solo actors stood mute and dumbfounded: most of the chorus stopped singing and beating, though enough continued to maintain the rhythm. Gradually face after face lit up, hands moved again, voices took up the refrain. The solo ists responded; in a moment the whole crowd was shouting lustily: "Nuei shall be our king! He will lead us against the uakana!” Kit sat up quickly, very angry, glancing toward Masson. But Mas son was too far gone in mang-ing to know what was going on, or care. But Kak. he was the villain, the traitor! Oh, he would give it to Kak. later! In an agony of embarrassment he looked around the circle of flrelit faces. Few were on hint; they were nearly all fixed on Kakaiwia. An New York --Day by Day v/ By o. o. McIntyre New York, Nov. 3.—Me is one of the checful society vagabonds. New York has many of them—well bred parasites who live on the generosity of friends. This one le a king of the species. He has spent a fortune of bis own and that of three wives. A large p^rt of hie time is spent dodging process servers and yet to the casual observer he lives a life of luxurious ease. He' has the manners of an aristocrat and the general ap pearance of the hardened roue of the bachelor clubs. He is tall, dark and has a tightly waved mustache. Ills eyes are fox like the shifty and his parchment colored skin is filled with tiny wrink le?. His dress is impeccable. Morning, lfternoon and evening he is always correctly and appropriately groomed. The other night in a cafe I heard h head waiter—the famous Theodore incidentally—say with no show at concealin' ut: "M'sleu is an unwel come guest here until he settles for past favors." There was a quick stage villain laugh. And he and his beautifully gowned escort turned and left for some other high spot where credit was not so strained. Most of these parasites have had every advantage In life. Their tutoring began with the first lisp. Anti the lest colleges were open ed to them. Tliis one spent many years of smusing uselessness in Paris. Lon don. Cairo and Monte Carlo. He has never given any thought to anyone snve himself. Only aid of his friends lias kept him from the prison cell 'or many piccadilloa. New A'ork countenances them. Anywhere else they would be kicked out of respectable society and be fore* -d to prove themselves of worth be fore they could ever return. But this one has the halo of an old family and New A'ork snobbery respects it. AA'insted, Conn.—that haven of three-legged chicks, dog headed rats, (ree climbing cows and walking fish —believes it has suffered from the famous WInsted liar who sent out ridiculous dispatches to various met ropolitian newspapers and which were printed because of their sheer provarlcatlve audacity. It is a beauti ful little city and its residents feel it has been subject to Jest long enough. It is said a movement is being start ed to suppress this kind of objection sble publicity. But in today's papers I noticed a dispatch from WInsted that a Kangaroo calf chased her fright ened cow mother through the Main street and caused one town drunkard to take the pledge for life. f love the poetic soul of a Fifth avenue mannikin whose husband sued her male modiste employer for what was still quaintly known as "heart balm.” She was talking to the reporter in defense of the marvelous modiste and as the reporter crossed his heart to die she said this: “There were times when Just for a moment I'd forget I was working for $40 a week. Arrayed in this glorious ereatons my employer would say. ‘Marvelous— Wondrous!’ At such a time I was the bride of the Sun King, holding my court at Versailles. You under stand that feeling, don't you?" It always struck me the best hick story of New York was one George Ade tell* of the visitor from back yonder who took In Wall street and had unconsciously blocked traffic while gazing aloft at a flock of pig eons hovering around a skyscraper, A burly fellow in an elevator starter’s uniform pulled him to the sidewalk to demand what he van doing. •'Counting pigeons." replied the llooaier. • ‘‘Don't you know that ain't allow ed? It's going to cost you *1 apiece How many did you count?'’ "Kight," slyly answered the lions ier and triumphantly paid the •bill. He had counted 12. tCemright. 1924.) tfy ' ■ ■ ■" f Illogical Irritation pricked him; if they wanted hint to be king they might at least look at him. . . . Slowly Kit sank back on his elbow. The dance rose to Its climax and fell Into deafening silence; the per spiring Kak returning to his place. Kit did not bother to look at him; It was still Kak's move. Kak might be drunk, they might all be drunk: Kit knew somehow that it did not matter. This was a real move, a coup d'etat. These people would think the same in the gray light of tomorrow as in the fire and music and passion of tonight. The word Kak had used was uvea. Kit knew that; it was rendered In his dictionary simply as “Konig.” It meant only one thing—a magnificent thing. A Thing To Be Pone. Oppor tunity. Would he use it? Of course. The ruoio went on. but Kit scarcely heeded It. He was alive again—or still? The Magic, was there, but as a background, an illuminating radiance. Something To Do. Well, If It actually came to him he would do his utmost, God helping him. Lead ership. Power. Responsibility. The ruoio ended at last and the circle broke up. Kit was heavy with dreaming and mang-ing; he was dazed and sleepy; but he knew as he got up that he, who had sat down there little Kit Newell, lost on a desert island, arose chosen and acclaimed King of Nalrava. IV. The physical scene was actual enough. He noted certain details; a naked child astraddle over a fat woman’s shoulder, dead with sleep; a boy who had drunk too much being sick; the curious effect of firelight on the under side of palm leaves. He strolled down to the water's edge, watched the Naituvians embark in their canoes and gave a goodnight to them. He returned up the beach to find the Nairavans not yet dispersed, standing about in groups, talking. He knew what they were talking about. He forgot them in the presence of a disgusting sight. The islanders, with a very few exceptions, were sober, though elated. Not so Masson. He lay where he had lain all the evening, drunkenly grasping at the person of a native girl, grunting obscenely at her. The girl seemed willing to suffer his embraces, but was prevented by Sadie, who kept pulling her away, vituperating, her wreath of white flowers awry over one ear. Presently Masson, roused by their voices and the laughter of the crowd, half rose, gave a lunge at Sadie that knocked her flat and a grasp at the other girl that caught only at her rlvi. This gave way. un wound and fell, leaving her naked and screaming before the populace. Mas son made another lunge at her, pull ing her down and rolling over on the ground with her. Sadie sat nursing a bruised elbow, bellowing. All this took only the space of time necessary for Kit to walk ten yards. He strode up and gave Masson a vig orous kick behind. “ Get up!” he or dered. "Let go of that girl.’’ Masson let go and hunched himself up. snarling. The two girls stared dumbly. A dead silence fell on the crowd. Kit took an empty cocoanut shell, filled it in the lagoon and dashed the water In Masson's face. The sailor spluttered, swore, coughed, asked what t'hell . . . "Get up. Pull yourself together,” said Kit. "Say!” said Masson In a foolish plaintive squeak. "X guess I got a right—’’ "You’ve no right to make a—” Kit s apeech became unquotable from there on. It was the kind of language that Masson was thoroughly familiar with. At the end he heaved himself to hts feet and staggered off somewhere, alone. Kit went on to bed. V. The next afternoon Kak appeared at the Residenz in company with four aged and important chiefs, and quite simply asked Kit If he would be King of Nairava. He also hinted that 1t might be a good thing if he opened that arsenal quickly. There was little Magic about it. The details of the office, the moldly walls, the battered furniture, the faces of the chiefs, with their wrin kled and frequently diseased skin, stood out sharp and clear in the light of three p. m. Yes. he would accept, since it was their desire, and do his best. But one thing: he would not open that arsenal till it became abso iuteiy necessary. He wasn’t going into ‘ this thing for the pleasure of killing. - Was that -understood? With regretful nods the elders as sented. It was too bad. They had ail seen his cavalier treatment of Masson the night before, and it had finally convinced them that this man was a real man. If he could do that to a white and an equal, what could be not do to Tenguiu. given firearms? However, if he thought he could pre vail without these, let him try. Itibwi, the oldest and most vocal of the chiefs, a little wizened, tooth less dotard with the complexion of a nutmeg grater, made a long, elo quent and Incredibly dull speech of final agreement. Before be had lin isl#ed It Etera came in to say that a canoeful of Tenguians was about to land. Kit suspected the crafty Kakalwia of having seen them enter the north end of the lagoon, and hurrying the deputation to him first. They walked Impressively down tp the lagoon beach, Kit in the middle, ■ind found a group of perhaps twenty Tengulans standing about, armed, but only with rather comic-opera looking spears. They were indistinguishable in appearance and speech from the N’iaravans; they had the same general physique, the same occasional Inclina tion to slant eyes and yellowish skins, the same guttural Inflections of voice. In the middle of the group stood a short, stocky man of perhaps 50. whose jolly pot-belly ami snub nose contrasted curiously with an alert and crafty look about the eyes. Him Kak Indicated to Kit. “This is Ongong. King of Tonguiu. Ongong, this foreigner is King of Ntarava. Ills name is Niiol.’’ The visitors raised their right hands, palm outward, in a form of salutation which the Germans had made current. “We greet you, Nuei, King of Niarava." said Ongong pleas antly enough. “I. Ongong, King of TenRuiu. Rreet you as a friend and brother.” He offered ids hand, Kuro peart fashion. Kit shook it. They repaired to the ntaniaba. squatted about in a circle and talked. Oh. how they talked! The stranger* offered presents: bonita hooks, fish lines, even, most priceless of all. « hatchet, rusty but, serxiceahle. "Ait wo going to give them anything in return'.”' Kit Inquired in a v hispei of Katcaiwia "Not now .” < ante th cautious answer; “wait. (To Bp C onHnurrt Tomorrow.> PBK8IDEN l COOUDOE 8AV8 If knowledge be wrongly used, eitl li/atiort eoninilts wuiekle._ THE NEBBS • now the country’s safe. Directed for The Omaha Bee by Sol He** (Copyright 19-4) ^Conm OkJ . vakikw p \ t VOU'LL NAlSS, TW\&ELECTIONV ALTOGETHER - ZOO'LL JUST BE 'N TIME ^OR / THE MEVT OwC n Q f\VS WLQX CttltEN'S OUTV TO f VOTE AMD SINCE "too wo^EN CAM VOTE VOU SMOULDTRT TO DO »T VMTELUGENTLM— mou SUOULO STUOT tv-c CAMDiDATES \ VERV C.AREFULUM - DON'T V FORGET TO mote FOR ^^ qmareet kovtckof y SI^Wt ODER' LOOK ’&& BALLOT ! \T LOOKS UKE A Wvou wWT^gUT'T ^ y CAuD'OAT£-l pll DIRECTORS or TMC. WORLD - 'll \dOJT WWT UN1TU. I H» c,iZE; MASSES AMD ev/ERMTwikj&I ballot VTJOOK ju into A vOTinG ; ■ f WEIL VsoEiS.ru pot * Aiftgt cwmrowa %££ BJBKtocLl 2» CROSS OKI -TOP AkIO ^OTLy ?TU0UAWT WERESsT ^WO OO ^ MOTUG ML \t straight- awmboos y 17 wow O'O^OU vSte - I USE cat j nrl THAT'S GOT -nt^OTO STUOT ^ l C^nr/tlr ^ - 1 BRA'M y 1 1 T \TPlS BALLOT tAUST BE OUT 1— k____—/ ! | or work i-- - rv—-r_l“ I o^i i\. m . ! M ■<4 Cu <*• om (Copyright, 1924, by The Bel! Syndicate, Inr 1 Barney Google and Spark Plug Now Barney Can Chatter to His Heart’s Content. Drawn for The Omaha Bee by Billy DeBeck - / Mello.tmere, stranger « v ( my name is barney google * > I'M ON MY WAY To EUROPE \ WlTM SPAR< PLUG AND RUDY *•' \ ]'M GONNA clean up ON TME - ^ CTMER SIDE - 1 WANT -To "Tell You about Beat ^—s. "TAis Morse op it* J \ mine — / LISTEN - XM THE CAPTAIN of TUlS \ ( SHIP » THE PASSENGERS ARC J' / COMPLAINING ABOUT YOU “ YOU RE / CAyw X annoying emery BODY on TMfc- / VMUtTn vF BOAT- stay 8y yourself o*/thmk you are2 \ P0T Vc,IJ ,M "We T8lRD /[-M BARNEY Goo&LE N^^CABlN- UNDERSTAND? f I >TnOW MY RitonTS , A First coass ON This Tub I II oo as i PLEASE, GET x-t*: Copyright 1924 by Kin| F caturea Syndic at*. Inc Graat “Bnta'n right* r*»erv*d n-4 BRINGING UP FATHER u sVJtVnt'mfic. SEE J,GCS AND magg,e in full Drawn for The Omaha Bee by McManus 1 Vlli IV* A a a ILilV U. S. Patent Office PAGE OF COLORS IN THE SUNDAY BEE fC-jryr^ht OHMEDOGKN DON'T / CALL "THIt> BET Off - / I LL WIN OUT THE. -- NIONELT WILL <UO FE^ MT FUNERAL E.YPENbEb tm dtijfer a, ^moke: I I ■ i l L/ TOO MAKE ME. t>IO< * TOO SIT AROUNO ANOJUbT _ 6ROAN- DAUGHTER. A»sO -- l /are qettinc, d^^USTed: Rtffe—r~ .-■=: OOtS’T TALK AC>OOT »T •' >*—'S:'\ ^ c i-'karr I WILL -"fOO’VE <OOT I TO f^RACE. UP-I'LL , | NOT ‘bTAtSO FOR. TOO ACTirso UKE a. riio Cow.' j-—' aw: *bttUT j up: y-’ K~^cryMin/ n-s © ’924 (r _Great Britain ngl.ii reserved JERRY ON THE JOB WAIT FOR A RECOUNT Drawn for The Omaha Bee by Hoban ____ _ <Copyright J9I4) ( *W' / MR. P\GS3V-- ImA MWS* \U M 4 A 51^ /Mvi I / '/W^n* ASA1W * / 3 JUST / . *-j£y4) I ^tUU'OO^'T Get ROTES'. 1 . ) 3U?T Sw 0Omk> A^o [ [ vUkE. "foinG? EASV Sir A"o j Toa. -4 / Q CTOS.. .-' '-{\HtsrA ^ yVAiNiOTg - / ' ^sl 1 —-% b) > ”^T 1)3 o a , J I U-.-. , Oh, Man! By Briggs ^ ~ ^ ^ 11—^— I —— I —■! ... , - ~ __ v-jet-L i .s Pose You VOTED The Pi&HT TICKET f Bill \ I r , WHAT- YOU S IvA/ELC- UH-\, WHY ? /—S \ ' didn t Register', doaj t be mv .stars if- J vSoRe at That x>oe,sn4 t) Jack 5utc J^anj s—>_ • fc.XPt.AtfsJ „ | VJCLL I WAS well. - exPLAwj- goimg to IF" You - cam’. J FieGiSTeR oivj Th£ last DAY / 8UT IT -so v HAPPBNBl> IT 1 F£LI_ OIVJ /\ V. SATURDAY W I III 1 —1._ / VA/CLL.- I HAD A VERY IMPOHTAmT GouF 15 ate 1 / ok> That day akjd try a , I | WOOL. 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