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About The Omaha morning bee. (Omaha [Neb.]) 1922-1927 | View Entire Issue (Dec. 6, 1924)
(Ontlnoed from Yesterday.) “Oh, VI," he said with easy pity, “she's got troubles of her own. poor Vi. You heard about her shop? Well, she set up an establishment, a mil linery thing of sorts, in Bond street last autumn. Tiny little two-hy four place, most awfully smart. There was a regular sign over the door— 'The Viscountess ffleldcs, Rohrs'—two small Its and all. Every one laughed and went In and ordered a chlmmle or something, and then forgot about it. Well, she had a dishonest assist ant. and of course poor Vi herself never knew a hnlf crown from a florin, and the long and the short of it is the whole thing went to pot. She lost horribly by it, nearly everything she had. and she wasn't so badly off. considering. She's In despair, and is ' out for an American millionaire. ‘I'm desperate!' she goes about saying. •I'm going to spend my last cent on a passage to America, and I'll take the first millionaire I ran get. Any one-—a coal heaver, If he's got the cash!’ Poor Vi.” Kit sat with his hands in his pock ets. speechless. So Vi was coming over. He would see her. The room felt cold; he shivered. But he was going to see Vi. And he knew that he wasn't going to look for a job—yet. CHAPTER XV. I. Next morning he sat biting his nails In his study, and the thought of Jack kept coming to him. It made hint intensely miserable. What would he not gi\« for half an hour of Jack's freshness and youth amid the odiocles and boredoms of his present life! On a sudden Impulse be went to a bookcase and took out a certain volume, a very familiar one, Matthew Arnold's poems. He opened It nt the flyleaf, on which was his name in liis own handwriting, crossed out, and under that a long inscription: New Kittle from Cheltenham Bold Christmas. 1913. The bright hoy, having seen Matthew Arnold's name in a news paper or somewhere, conceived a de sire to drink of that Pierian Flood. Which I. deeming a laudable thirst, proposed to gratify in the form of a Christmas gift; but the impulsive vouth, having far too large an allow anee and too small a respect for the Holy Season, went forth and procured himself this volume. This parthe nogenetic act T. hating, have this day undone, exorcised and nullified by giving to the same New Kettle the sum of one Bean and threescore Small Porgies (SI.60). such being the market price of the book, the receipt of which is hereby acknowledged by him. By r “ " ' New York --Day by Day ---' Bv O. 0. M’INTYRF, New York, Dec. 5.—In a fashion able strip of countryside near New York there Is a fine colonial home— with kennels, garage and terraced lawn. There are five servants aside from the master, mistress and three children. The home is a tribute to the inter nor decorator's art and there arc several paintings with a purchase price running into five figures. Re cently I spent an afternoon in the home. The owner Is a man I knew only as a head waiter. He has bowed and aeraped at my approach just as he has to thou sands of others who have visited the place where he Is overlord of table reservations. And yet here he was living In a manner few of us ever expect to achieve. My interest in him followed a talk one day wdth one of the highest priced ear specialists in New 1 ork. At a little dinner party he told me of an operation he had performed on the wife of the head waiter. A few weeks after the operation he was call ed late at night on the phone. It was the head waiter. His wife was restless and hs was worried “Can’t you run out to see her?'1 he asked the specialist. He was told there was no way for hlin to get there at that hour of night—and rather jokingly added "unless you lend a special train for me." “I'll do It at once," he declared, ind In an hour the specialist was riding there In a special train, lie nad spent several hundred dollars ss rasually as one buys a cigar just to Ye satisfied that all was well with ais wife. One wonders if in his genuflections it the cafe door he does not conceal the grin at bright young show-offs who airly tender the $10 and $20 Mil and trot home to hall bedrooms. A chance punch on the nose sent a prominent movie star to fame and fortune. He waa for many years an extra. They tried him In a more prom inent part but his nose wouldn't film. He became discouraged and took a drink. One night he was in a cafe when a row started and lurch ' lng over to the group, peered over the shoulder to see what the trouble gas and wham—a misdirected blow andeil on his nose. Reset, It was o. k. •or film purposes. A cowboy from Arizona writes me ‘hat on their bunkhouse wall is a dipping of an article I had written 'bout, shuddering at the bawling of calves receiving the hot branding ron on a Texas ranch. Over the ar ■Irle in chalk i* lettered "O' Violet!" \nd he adds with sarcasm: “I sup pose a man who wears a wrist watch ind spats would hesitate in killing a chicken." He's right. I would. I am not, however, without cer tain daring. Yesterday I left a cafe without tipping the hat rheck boy. Cloths may not l>e indicative of daring anyway. A Britisher who has bagged many lions In Africa and was among tha first tn brave the dangers of Ohllkoot pass In Alaska sports * monocle. Thirty English actors and actresses are either being starred or assay lending roles In ns many Broadway plays. In England only one American gill appears lo lie making any notice aMe success. She Is Tallulah Bank head in a mystery melodrama. I finally met the man with whom I exchange friendly greetings In an office building across from mv win dow It develops he was born and raised 11 miles from a town on the Ohio rlvar whera I spent much of My boyhood. (Capyrlskt. lilt.) I L r which act of grace These Verges be come my gift to him. Quod felix faustumque sit.—J. C. Jack had scrawled that one even ing in the following January, appar ently having only just discovered that Christmas had occurred. Kit remem bered how he looked as he wrote it. sitting with his knees hunched up in his chair, biting a pipe stem and smiling scornfully to himself. It was so like Jack, superabundant, awk ward, puppy-like;! but at the same time full of vitality and nice feeling lie turned on and real snatches here and there. A real poet, Arnold; thru early taste of his had been sound. But now he read ns he might have read his own epitaph, with pity, per haps, and a musing wonder, but no emotion. All at once his eye fell on certain lines: Yes! in the sea of life enisled, With echoing straits between us thrown. Dotting the shoreless watery wild, We mortal millions live alone . . . But when the moon their hollows lights, And they are swept by balm* of kpring. And In the glens, on starry nights, The nightingales divinely sing; And lovely notes from shore to shore Across the sounds and channels pour— Oh! then a longing like despair Is to their farthest caverns sent; For surely once, they feel, we were Parts of a single continent! Now round us spreads the watery plain— Oh, might our marges meet again! So pertinent this was to his own case that it made him groan. He knew, if man ever knew, how it felt to be on an island. First on Naivara, physi cally. geographically isolated, that longing like despair had wrung him; and now in his own home, among his own friends, in the very pres enoe of his beloved wife, he knew it again. He knew it In a spiritual sense only, but all the more rending and mordant for that. Hard it was to be lonely out there, but how much more tragic to be lonely among friends—separated from those he loved and could touch by that shore less watery wild dividing mind from rnind.^ Tragic, hopeless . . . Then revulsion; a human being was not like geography. It was a per son's own fault if he could not And his continent. Y’es, his fault. And then, turning over the pages, he came on this; Rut in the world I learnt, what there Thou too wilt surely one day prove, That will, that energy, though rare, Are yet far, far less rare than love. There it was. It took will and energy to And one's continent, and even these, though commoner far than the gift of love, he lacked. He had had them, and lost them—wasted, de stroyed! Oh, was there no end to weakness and pain? In a burst of anger he flung the hook across the room. He sat staring at it a moment, then slowly went over and picked it up. An absurd vision came to him of Mrs. Ebbsmith pull ing the prayer book out of the Arc. . . . There the book lay In his hand, unscorrhed, unharmed, except for n new looseness in its back. Again it became lost youth incarnate, lrrevo cable. Oh, Jack, that the sweetness of those days should ever taste so bit ter! oh, Mary, that th» wonders of love and marriage should, througn his own inadequacy, remain so far from him! He sat back in his chair and groaned again. Lonely, lost, helpless, sdrlft forever on that "un plumbed. salt, estranging sea” of hu man weakness, across whose devious currents even now. faintly, madden ingly, the nightingales divinely sang . . . Eternal passion! Eternal pain! II. In all th» world Jen Cohb was the one- who rnme nearest to understand Ing. 'Ten had heen beautifully kind to him all along, but even Jen was becoming impatient. The matter of Len Thomsen and his California school recurred this spring. Len still hoped to start it tn the autumn, but he had not yet succeed ed in finding a suitable partner, and he Implored Jennings to use his inftu ence on Kit. Jen tried it. "He'd better speak for himself. John.” snapped Kit. "After all, lie's met me." "Poor man, he was afraid you'd take his head off.'' said Jen. "Your temper isn't exactly mellowing with the years.” Kit. flushed, "f suppose there's no excuae for that. In \mir min if ,luat plain russedness? Jen I eyes, grayldue ami InslgnltV cent, briefly acquired a rather lovely look. "Kit, I make every allowance for you. Whatever Is thp matter, and I’ve no idea what It is, 1 know I It s hel! for you. Rut I thought six month* might ha-* chang'd your attitude toward the school proposi tion." They haven't, a particle. I have le** Messianic Impulse toward hoy* than I ever had. If po**lble. . You and I.en are ridiculous. You think of me a* nosing around saying, 'Oh. dear. I've nn one to feel reaponaibl* for' Ulvo me Mome one to goide and com fort quick!' Lord! f tel] you, I fairly hate the idea of thn*e boy*, and they d hate me the minute they *a\v me,” “They'd have a riuht to, if you did "Oh." said Kit, “every one ha* that tight. Including my pelf They were in Kits study, on n misty afternoon, .len filled a pipe, lighted ft md said: Kit, Isn't that it. perhaps? Hate generally” “What are you talking about?” “The uselessness and ugliness of hate Why hate any one. even your aelf? Why hit* hypothetical llttl hoy*? After all. were nothing hut a hunch of nitwit*, even the beat of u*. you’re no worm than the avei "Well?” "Well, why not go out an<1 try It? Have a little of the--of what Jack ueed to call I ho m of h. k fjo out and faro thoar kid*—re.illre they're vounR and helplee* and like youreelf Ronornliy, and we if you rant ... you know I o*a' in Jl a nuntito »i;d Kn idishtlnR.'.' . (To He e ontinnetl Mnmlao.t THE NEBBS OH WELL, THAT’S DIFFERENT. Directed for The Omaha Bee by Sol Hess (Copyright 1924) /'hE'/ - wwATLS'iMr matters , \aiitu ”TM(S ROAD ? ONJLV GOT \ ; ONE EuGimE ANO'rayiNG'-TO ( , PULL All VOUR ERDGWT CARS ) t \AJttwfa ? I LL BET “VNE ( I ENGINEER AkjO'ThE&UV \n J 1 HME CABOOSE OON'T HUE IN J \ \-we &-wrj: • y I SUTTONI UP HOOP \ PACE ! THERE AitJT 1 ANH ONE Or “tMESC \ CARS. "T*nAT OONT N\£Wm , MORE TO A EOT Or / PEOPLE THA.M WOU DO/ /^HESE RftU.ftOft.OS —x Got ft VAJMOLE LOT or REGARD ' EOR ft GUYS Rights ! EsiERY TIME WWEW TwEY TEEL L«C G\v/inG the EmGimE ft REST , \T S Got to be ftt So<mE / CROSSVNJG ' ^Ookjt let VOU RSELT GltV ALL VaJORKEO UP — VOU \ wave KiO particular place i ~TO Go AmO NOTHING -TO / OO wmEm nod get / there -y /Xu. fc'GHT • VOO , LET EM POLL'. / APE A revAJ O^EM ROLLING TOR ME - MOu\ SEE THOSE TANK CARS -TwOSE ACE MINE ' ) and I'm going to peao Some eoture ) \ to too - in another near there'll ) ( be somanv or those cars that voo'll / \ G>E FORKING EORME MOST Or THE TIME J - r~—' Barney Google and Spark Plug •lx' MY Poor <» PARKS'! On WHY 'DID I LET THAT THJWE TAKE MY BROWN EYEO BABY Away-im bo lonesome XCOOLD CROAK" SNIP'. SHIF* I LL GO Yo YiHE OUKE AND Y6LU 1 HIM HOW SAD 1AM* MAYBE \ WE S A GENEROUS GGY AND \ WILL GlME SPARKv \. Back yo me — ♦ » °/J* j yiwlow /Duke - 7 But without My SPARKY *WE WORLD SEEMS AS COLO AS ^ELSEV'S \ ice box •V iff But I'M SORRY FOR You - |f ( ifi Remember correotly - V A Few DAYS AGO You MADE Jl A SUGGESTION ■» INSTEAD OF |ij\ gambling away the horses j V "The loser was To get a ^mash in Ths ^ ^ Tain - ^65 - 1 BRINGING UP FATHER u. JXZi*. SEE J1GCS AND MAGGIE IN FULL PAGE OF COLORS IN THE SUNDAY BEE Drawn for The Omaha Bee by McManus (Copyright 1924) / AW MARCHE -DON'T / WEAR IT 6O50E.D ---^ ^ A>C,1H • TOO LOOi\ *iO oh oeI much (Setter, <r oh oear: L ,— I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO Do / ASOUT NV [r i khow »t got rve c,ot to throw AWA'Y ALU H\Y HATE) AHD^ET HEW OHE^ THEY [ reserve ^ ROOM pp8BS2C V FER ME^iwsOw M POOR ' 9 thiEd 1*6 COr-^/x BE ; HOU*bE ‘ I M't FUTURE home I 1 k™JSa?- frm ® 19:4 ■» Int l Pe*TU»r 5c»vici. Inc Cmm «„>•-. mM< mn<4 JERRY ON THE JOB HE MUST BE WRONG Drawn for The Omaha Bee by Hoban tCopyrijht 1924} r --- ^'T&E Sami* f-KX* QE, SA\0 ot "tvor owt» fC\GUY. I T^u, Vou V.R, Vi G5PY ’lk» I SO /4nO TM9ff T\iiO BUSTS' OOKY Spiu lY To Oo KiOTWiviG- -duu 1 T»e Bosr VTy mb> Sr ^ Oo Vou v Su^OoSt- ' TUtW'Q b T-inmS'wEO * gs_^ pPJ p . The First Sunday in Church After the Golf Season By Briggs i---— -i ■ —— -- I ABIE THE AGENT Drawn for The Omaha Bee by Hershfield ^ Tl* Want* tli* Limit. \! OV«I HATE boCTcRr^'s' 9 BUT 1 COUU>N>Y STE^b 1 T>tES,E Wwns KO UCKC^R" * PPI/ OY, Hcu; I (WORRY WHEN \ Think cf iy = y*e first - ? THlNC, YHEy W’AMY To t>o ' >S OPERATE' cr 1 ***>,' * '' '' \ <*? r\ KJO = FlRSY ILL \ l yj^^ Tc > I 'i'-'f S°ME’ EAST = better I ^TKATO Put MAKE ME i vUMCQkSC.lOOt»". ; W I _