Image provided by: University of Nebraska-Lincoln Libraries, Lincoln, NE
About The Omaha morning bee. (Omaha [Neb.]) 1922-1927 | View Entire Issue (Nov. 27, 1924)
I, THE KING Ry WAYLAND WELLS WILLIAMS. (Copyrifht. 1924. > ^ - _____/ (Continued from Veiterduy.) Mary: Well, I can't say that I am wholly sick of it yet, though it does surprise me to find myself the little ray of sunshine of the party. Ordi narily I feel as sore and sick and dis illusioned as any one, but when I hear any one going on as Cora docs. I feel perfectly sure there's some thing more, and better, to it. It's ... I don't know. It's Just there. 1 know I sound like Robert Browning, not to mention Pollyanna. but there It Is! Boon: Hang on to it. dear child, even if it's only an illusion. An Illusion that's never destroyed is as good as a reality. From that point Boon and Cora, having talked themselves dry, fell Into' a dialogue on something else. Mary listened; Kit pushed a cigaret stub against a dirty plate with a fork and reflected that when he looked up again he would see Mary's arms, slim and sinewy, like a hoy’s, but better shaped. Pollyanna did not have arms like hers, or Robert Browning cither, for that matter. VI. Presently another "show" hegan. They had not seen the beginning of the first one, and turned in their seats to watch. At least Mary and Kit did; the two others already sat facing the middle of the room. In their new positions the diameter of the table stretched between Kit and Mary. There was a song about a sewing machine and a dance, about my gum gum goo-goo girl. Then there was a dance about some, lobsters, the chorus being decorated in bright red claws, though the action was presumed to take place In the sea, with the lob sters in a raw- condition. Then fire tall ladies In cloth of gold and cloth of silver swished about for a while emitting faint mewing sounds. Then there was a comedian, a simple Jew In a dinner coat. He was very funny, and one could not help listening to him. In the course of some patter about domestic difficulties he became still funnier, and less nice. It wasn't nice at all, when you came to thlpk of it. He stalled for a moment, as expert comedians do, to let the Joke sink In: heads slowly turned toward heads and throats let forth low delighted gur gle.*. It was an insult to the joke to enjoy it entirely alone. Boon and Cora turned toward *ach other, Kit and Mary similarly. She was flushing, she was angry and shocked, but as she met Kit's eye her face broke into a smile of horri fied understanding. Just an instant: then she looked away again. A scene from the past, the very distant, absurd old past, came to Kit s mind. He was outside a theater, talk ing to some one in uniform about a -- 11 ' r New York ••Day by Day— ---—J By O. O. M’INTYRE. New York, Nov. 26.—Manhattan’s replica of the village smart alec is a sleekly polished young capper for a jewelry firm. It Is his job to steer patronage to his establishment. The reckless buyers of jewelry ere the gentlemen friends of ladies with crepe de rhlne souls who live languorously and luxuriously In Riverside Drive and West Knd aven ue apartment houses. They sre the gaudiest of feminine types. The capper has an ultra Bohemian apartment with sound proof walls where he entertains with a wanton disregard for expense. There is a marvelous cache of rare vintage wine and it is dispensed with a lavishnese that is startling. At all times the rapper ha» jewels worth a king's ransom in his pockets or apartment safe. At the auspicious moment he shows them to his guests. What gentleman, under the stimulat ing flow of wine, could refuse a lady a lavalliere or a strand of p»a rls? It is said that In this manner the salesman's sales for the year equal the entire outgo over the counter at the shop he represents. So the high upkeep of his rendezvous is a small matter comparatively. It is the young man’s job to in gratiate himself with reigning stage stars aryl other celebrities. His spor tively inclined friends, of course, look on a bit enviously as he squires them shout the high spots of the town. To those of generous purse he ar ranges Introduetlons. The rest he leaves in the lap of the gods. And the gods are usually kindly. On® Wall street plunger for instance is said to have spent more than a half million on capricious cuties through th» cap per. Down In the financial marts the young men who go in for the flaring bell bottomed trousers are known as "Wall Street sailors.” A movie star had the habit of reelln ing on a sea wall at flreat Neck watching the fireflies against the velvet plush of night. "Why do you come here night after night?” some one asked. "I'm hoping soma night the fire flies will all coma out and apell my name.” Two loud laughers sat In front of two print ladles at a musical revue. At an uproarious moment they hurst into ear splitting guffaws. "It Is evident," said one of the nrim old ladles to her companion "that the age of good manners Is past." "You should know," said one of the gigglers: New Yorkers are rather hardened to gypping taxi drivers. I have my self many times been on the short end of their scheming. Yet I would like to offer » word in their behalf. The other night I lost^ a $10 hill in one. Two days later It' was returned to me. It had fluttered Into a seat crevice and the driver had at a great loss of time interviewed those he remembered of his fares. He Is a colored fellow. It Is tragic to lose faith In hu manity. The unhappleat people I know are those who have curdled beliefs about the human race. I be 1 levs the most suspicious of all people are |hone who deal with criminals— penitentiary wardens, policemen and detectives. There was a police lieu tenant In New York who one# said he didn’t believe there wee an honest man In the world. He died In the •lectrle chair. A little more faith might have aaved him from auch an IngiorJjoua and. (k (Copyright, llli.t L taxi. And this, so different, was what he had missed then. The comedian retired, the chorus of Bareback Beauties scampered on. Kit sat breathing heavily, his eyes fixed on a triangle of Mary's clear brown forearm, visible above the tablecloth. VII. A few nights later he called on her and suggested a bus ride. The Idea had come to him at the corner of Eighth street; it seemed a nice thing to do on a warm May evening. Mary agreed monosyllabically, slammed a small hat on her head with a deft, petulant gesture, and went out with him. "Of course, we could take a taxi, if you'd rather," he said as she ap proached the avenue. Mary gave a curious little backward twist to bet head and said: "Would you very much rather I didn’t rather?" He turned toward her quickly, con sctous of fatigue In her. "Why, no, of course not." "I've taken so many summer even ing hus rides. Waiting for a seat down in the square . . .’’ "Yes. of course, a taxi's nicer. We can get one at the Brcevort. No, I've got a better idea than that; we'll take a taxi to the garage, and then I'll take you out in my car. I was a fool not to think of that first." Twenty minutes later they were swinging up and down the golden hills of the Riverside. The evening was entirely altered; he had gone to her for music and ministration, and here he was, showing her a Time. He was not particularly fond of driving, hut he thought on the whole he liked it this way. Mary said almost nothing, hut she held her head in a way that denoted elation, and when at last she spoke her voice was no longer tired. "Oh. I do like this. Kit. This Is so exactly what I like.” "What, motoring?" "Not so much Just motoring, ns doing it expensively. Having every thing as nice as it could he." "There are lots more expensive cars than this." "Technically, perhaps. T don’t look beyond paint and upholstery.—why—” “What?" "Oh," said Mary drearily, "I was Just thinking how true that was of me, all through. Paint and uphol sterv; I’m like that.” "I suppose you mean something unpleasant, but T don't think I agree with it. I won't"—he raised his voice above the wind—"take your word for it. anyway." "You're very kind.” said Mary. "Kind he hanged," retorted Kit. He said it quite low, hut Mary did not seem to care for It. "You'd better stop,” she said, "when you come to a good place. I want to talk, without having the words blown out of my mouth." Her voice was tired again. He pulled up In a shady street in Riverdale, and half turned in his seat, waiting. The loose sleeves of Mary's light wrap, which during the drive had blown back and laid bare her arms to the elbow, now covered all but her hajids, lying quietly on her lap. After a pause she turned her head toward him and began talking "Because I understood about your friend Jack, and because you’re an idealistic person temperamentally, you’ve got the notion that I’m some thing between Saint Cecilia and—and a bottle of headache cologne. It won't do, you know. I hoped you'd see when we hegan going about together, but. you haven't seemed to.” "nh. your Elorestan side?" "No!" said Mary impatiently. "There you are, idealizing again. Schumann s Flnrestan was a pretty good fellow. Mine isn't. He's cheap and common—and he's Me. You think of m« as an artist, perhaps. Well, I’m not. not at all. An artist can put up with anything for his art. 1 can't. I can't stand Greenwich Vil lage and psychoanalysis and bobbed hair and cockroaches and genius In a garret. I hate all that! And what I do like Is going about having a good time, restaurants and dancing and spending money with cheap brainless. Philistine people." "If you're thinking of Cora—" "I'm not thinking of Cora. She's got brains and sincerity. I'm think ing of those two that went out the other night, that Bonn blamed for not even being interested in talking about their own position. Why. I'd go about all the time with people no better than that, If they'd show me the sort of time I like. How do you suppose art goes with a nature like that? Why, my art's dead as a doornail. Old Max chef rrles over It. He says I'm be hind where I was two years ago. and he's right. I never play well except when I've Just received an invitation in spend a week-end xvith rich friends In the country. When I come hack I play like the devil, and go on doing so till 1 get another In vita linn. Sec? The thing simnlv isn't in me." "Isn't 11? I don't believe much of this, you know.” "Well, you don't have to. But I do. and I'm going to act on It. I'm not going to keep up this pretense any longer. My father can t really afford to keep me here. He's Just a doctor, and doesn’t earn much. Now that all Idea of the concert stage Is off. I'm going to pack up and go home to Cleveland. I shall teach little girls scales so as to earn money to buy decent hats with.' "Horrid little girls' Mary—" "It's all I'm good for. I/Ots of women do it, better ones than I.” Her voice shook, but she was sure she was not going to cry. They were both quite sure; and then she was wiping her eyes. He put one hand on hers. “Mary, this Is all very dear and brave o{ you—' ‘ t»he shook him off "Don't pity me! I can't stand It. What X say Is straight truth.” "Well, what If It U? Doesn t every normal person like a (rood time" That side of you's been starved, what with the war. Rnd Greenwich Village, and all." "Oh, no"’ "Why, I like you better, for know ing you like those things." "What on earth doe* it matter whether you like me or not? What's the use in—" "Oh. now, don't he—" "Don't you be—" (To B" ConHrnied Tomorrow.) Bee B ant Arts Produce Result*. Clarence Geldert, non- plavtnf an Important role In Emerson Houph s M 'North of 3fi," n-hlch Irvin Willet * produced for Paramount, appeared In every one of Shakespeare * plays pro duced on the American alaae, prior | to his entrance into pictures. THE NEBBS BY THE OLD FIRESIDE. Directed for The Omaha Bee by Sol Heu (Copyright 1924) ■,U BET VOUR UTO VJUEM I UEARO W0v7\ sjAS» TOR a \ajOm\am *TO BREAK imto "\ O TME ALSTOM CLUB I UP AMO \ k\MS APPUCATVOM- O0T0UTUIWV sJuTE TUAT 10 LET TUOEE WEATULP ) qlo oanaes, aroumo tmkt club a >0 *? VaJUEMI GO VM TML OOOP .1 £w* VT'«S GOT TO BL W\DE EWDUGV4 7 tor TmE TvaJO or OE--s /' AvJO BES'OES UO«^E 'S tWE PLACE GkiA v^jmkt mav SAG'S * tuam^SGiwnG OAV AutrwiE wave So V-1 cookeo a w\eav toR \ MOCW to BE tWAUVPUL POP tWlS HEAP ] WiM AwOtwE IODS TWE i - BUSINESS IS GOOD - WE RE ALL IN GOOO/ O^ER OAV- WES GOjN UEALtW AND WE'VE GOT tWE TvwEST to WAVE STEvaJEORA^VT/ \cOOv< iw tWE WORLD — wWAt MORE /\V“V “roOW ^—» COULO ONE AEVC ? -s 0 I £ OOmT MimO “TELUM&tME VaJORLOV. f VbJ\ UOR-T AMD SORE fcOT I'M GOVMGTO \ vaJRITE. tWtM A LETTER 'TuaMVOMG'TUEM \ ►.-O “tuRM IMG Ml OOWM AMO t’LL SAV IM \ jr i cTTCR TWAT TWE>/ ARE A VaJOmOLBFGL J MEM -SO COMS'DER ATE OV TWD© 7 &°rJfp£fl&W\P 0V MOT TAtfiMG A ME.MfcE.fl/ MrMRf.»bw>' t^p.^r'Twe r.e.s,t y——^ Barney Google and Spark Plug Sunshine Forgot All About Barney’s Bandage. Drawn for The Omaha Bee by Billy DeBeek Your boss is jm pret-iv ©ad shade with that foot of His-- <bsp Him IM BED BY ALL MEAMS HlDE his ftoTHES So HE CAM-T GET OUT-"DOMT" i emem let him ' ' hame a might GoWM, I'M NERVOUS-I CANT STAY PUT 1 I GOTTA "DO SUMT'a) » ILL TAKE A NoT BATH AMO Go OUT To THE STABLE - SPARKY 3 GOTTA '' LOOKED AFTER.— 'ijh. fNO, SUM, iQltf- MM Foot1. I{ju / "De dootam TONE^~NY__^__^ III ( LEAVE ME /NSTuJUCTiOMS V ' “ not To give You Mo' / *1 I CLOTHES---You / . \ Gotta stay v*' & Vj/N bed: /-t' _ ^ mi ^ i Compound tmat jockey OP MINE !! WHAT DOES Mg AlEAN SWIPING ALL MY CLOTHES * XM GOING OUT Yo SEE SPARKY, CLOTMES OR No CLOTMES BRINGING UP FATHER Registered SEE J1GGS AND MAGGIE IN FULL U. S. Patent Office PAGE OF COLORS IN THE SUNDAY BEE Drawn for The Omaha Bee by McManus (Copyright 1924) 'k ip I kin onc E C.'T Wl ( TOO Sam- w wire. no e«.n i kin IN THE. HOUE3E | pj WEHT DOT CUN t>MF Tfl t THEE KNOW I KIN TAvLK 1*5 E^PEOIK Mf THINC,«3 «sHE MA^OIF. INTO UH.TTIN OlO ^E rOR ORDERED FROM | STW HfNMC ' Yr-f MORE, WO HA.O pot 1 n HER Poor r i_i _ JERRY ON THE JOB I I Q It?4 Int t rtATuwr Scitvicc Inc. j Great Britain right* re*er\eH NO TIME TO LOSE. Drawn for The Omaha Bee by Hoban (Copyright 1924) m?*** m l-g C—‘’ i;„„.i I' . _ Me and Mine [•OH SUCH A -SVAjeLt-' DIMMER 'j j (S0IW6.4To HAVJEk / I ToDAY ! HSR.M.AM(CR.Det9€D I \ PoU>UDiTuRKeyi ApvjD I, I! it's A J ®eAOTy JivAje r-Shall. HAue^^iFTeen j 'K PeoPL^l ATTh«E. kTABLEJ / j mv. cSoodme^sTujhv Do "feu ^ I DoJlT ••RMV'HU513AOO akJD / 1 GO. DOUJioj'nsujAJ amD I HAvyefAIB'GJPCeD'vJOST BY i 1 , OURJ PLOe5 .-f, O) I KJ E »Too • I ^ va/e f k ro o oj . h o Co ^ To' <5 s. T * IT V «TA^* ^ J By Briggs ' ' * ' _ <+». ' " -N , Aw-BuT^ujeTDo -so eujoY I dinwers-v(hermaw v HA5 j ■SOME FlMC UJIAjES lToo--i-Tn£ £>avi,^>.5° wicef*. at-home-^eweRyy lV£ar'amdJ|jTt-ve: Kio-s FHOME.^^ra-OMfvSdHOOL -/ \ \JJ vVJ U K e5 K»£>^ V»— mm r _jl_l_ * Last Yeah uje. HaD a ^ LON/CLV^ HOME. OlMNEtl |2$V People— The. v all. .. jAlS it UJAS Tl-\e'Qe-3T { They' EVER 'ATe-euT,i Told George mot For 05 / 7~ ' / Poop* Thu^g, 3He / THiMK3,3hE'3 CPJ3OYi(0C> HE9JClFi®^CATlM6 1 \ That RC5Taurakt y \ stuff - -IPHOobvJ -TJ-^ // / \ ,$HS CAivJ HAv/6 That Hor^E. ^TUFF'-I'm off IT FOR LIFE- - VJHff A FOOL'*«3He.TuRKJer> OUT v Tb ©e f--— f ABIE THE AGENT Drawn for The Omaha Bee by Herthfield He's » Caeey CiMitlwn^n. Er$ YHANKSQWiwt, TODAY, ABE - HOW AftouY qOIN$ IN A Restaurant and , v*Avw<f turkey? / ILL IfKjyJ T"T» — -V" -> 1 1 ■ ——BSJgg x THINK VOuRE CCOKOO \ ^ ^ ABE ' A!HATS the IDEA V ®*C>*USE 1 OF ORDERING THE QRAV> I *’'K^T M/AATED SEPARATE AMD the | 'TO SEE IF IT MllsiUTE VOU <*ET IT U)AS Vou Pour it all. / \ Tl,Pkw„ / ^cvefi The Turkey i J UK ** -y (TXT ^