KERRY ^QUARE
A NEIGHBOURLY NOVEL
by ORACK B. RICHMOND
“I’in sure he’ll be all right,
Mrs. Chase,” Jo said steadily,
noting Sally’s pallor under the
strain of waiting. The finding
of the busy village doctor was
n’t always easy, and they bad
both administered all the first
aid they knew. ‘‘My school
children •were always getting
hurt last year. They always
came out all right, no matter
how serious it seemed for a
bit.”
“I know,” Sally nodded.
'‘Please push that hot water
bag nearer his feet. Arc they
still coldt”
“They’re a little warmer.”
Jo knew that statement was
safe.
It was at this moment that
Schuyler looked in at the door
of Bob’s room, lie had noticed
from the window Jim U’Brady
busily rubbing off Wendy’s
muddy side. If he had heard
the sound of voices he hadn’t
been roused by them or by the
rumble of the wagon. Farm
wagons were always driving in,
bringing fresh vegetables or
milk and eggs. When Bob had
been brought in everybody in
the house had refrained from
outcries, so instinctive and
habitual had become the intent
to shield the invalid from
anything startling or exciting.
But the sight of Wendy had
recalled Bob to bis father’s
thoughts, and the reluctant
permission given by bis lan
guid will against bis judgment
and Sally’s rules. He had risen
uneasily from bis chair, gone
out into the hall, and encoun
tering a frightened Mary who
bad been listening at the foot
of the stairs, had demanded
with sudden premonition of
disaster: “Where’s Master
Boh, Mary?”
“He’s upstairs, Doctor
Chase,” Mary bad murmured.
He noted that her eyes were
Ted. He went hurriedly up the
■stairs, pulling himself by the
banisters at a pace that left his
’unaceusomed lungs breathless.
In this state he arrived at the
door of Bob’s room.
“My Bod!—What’s the mat
ter?”*
Both women looked up re
assuringly, hut he snw that
Rally was deadly pale, that
Jo’s face was strained in spite
of her faint smile. And that
little Bob-why, how still
the small figure lay under the
heaped blankets! Schuuvler
dragged himself to the foot of
the bed. and saw the ashen face
almost as colorless ns Rally’s
« cotton rolls above it. With a
groan he sank upon the bed.
his own f ice' draiiied of blood,
even as theirs.
We think lip s nil right,
Jo whispered, ns slip saw how
the sight of thp shock to Bob’s
fnthor line! unnerved Sally,
whose bands were trembling ns
she pressed the cotton close.
“We exnect the doctor every
minute,
“Please go downstairs,
dear,’’ Sally now urged under
her breath, alarmed for her
husband's own condition at
this crisis.
He shook his head, “Clod,
no!”
They waited fo • a seemingly
interminable half hour, and
then the chug of Doctor
Morse's old car was heard, and
Nnrnh's eager voice-“This
way—come right up. Doctor.
An’ them eat in’ their hearts
out with fear for the little
dear.”
The doetor was self-eon
tained, like all doctors, but
they couldn’t lie sure that he
wasn’t a'armed for his patient.
ITis first act was to turn up
Bob’s eyelids, comparing the
dilated punils one with the
other. After examining the
pasli, feeling the pulse, and
listening to heart and breach
ing, he a^ain looked at the
eyes, as though from their ap
SUMMER, RADIO
AND THE NEIGHBOR
It is not surprising to read in
a Washington dispatch that the
Federal Radio commission is de
luged by complaints of radio jazz
which continues after midnight and
radio setting up exercises which be
gin at 6:45 a. m. For one person
who writes to Washington a score
complain to neighborbors, a apart
ment house owners or to city
officers. For one who complains
• hundred chafe in quiet.
Privacy used to mean safety from
phywOM trespass or from spying.
\
pearance he derived whatever
anxiety he felt.
“We’ll sew up the cut,” he
said at last brusquely, and
turned to his battered old in
si rument-bag.
“Doctor, what—” It was
all Schuyler’s lips could do to
form so much of the inevitable
question.
“Can't tell yet. Children
stand a lot of bumping. Just
got to keep him quiet and
warm—and wait.”
And wait. That was ,what it
soon resolved itself into. The
jagged cut was sewed up ex
pertly—the country • doctor
can do that sort of thin" quite
as well as his city brother. A
hypodermic went into Bob’s
circulation, after which his
pulse steadied a little and grew
a trifle stronger. But the un
consciousness continued. Tt was
hard to watch and be unafraid.
After two hours of it Schuy
lei stumbled downstairs to tfie
telephone and .called up Rich
ard Fiske. When he arrived
the situation hadn’t changed.
Doctor Morse had gone to an
other critical ease, promising to
return soon. Sally and Schuy
ler sat on opposite sides of the
bed. Jo had gone downstairs
to brace Mary, who insisted on
crying, and whose effect on
small Barbara was to make her
tearful, too.
Fiske looked the situation
over, examining Bob with
thoroughness, while his parents
watched. Then he beckoned
them outside the door across
the hall into Sally’s room.
“Now see here,” he said, in
his quiet, calming way, “you
’re both scared to death, and
that’s perfectly natural. The
youngster’s had a bad blow,
but Miss Jenney told me down
stairs that Morse found no evi
dence of depression of the
skull. Morse is all right—he’s
n good f(‘Ilovv, and clever. The
concussion would put Bob to
sleep, probably, for quite a
while. I think he’ll rally and
wake up in good shape. Mean
while, you’ve got to keep your
heads and be patient, though T
know every 10 minutes will
seem a dav. I’ll stay up here,
if you like.”
If they liked I Tt was the
greatest comfort to have him,
and they needed him, for little
Bob didn’t wake that day, nor
the next—nor even the next.
Richard Fiske and James
Morse grew more and more
anxious over the long delay,
though they assured each other
and the parents that they could
find no reason not to expect
the child to open his eyes at
any minute. He just didn’t, and
the strain increased with every
hour.
“But Schuyler’s wonder
ful!” Sally said to Richard in
one of the infrequent minutes
they had together. She herself
had acquired a rigid self-eom
mand: site seemed to he going
on automatically, and he had
no doubt she would continue
in the same controlled way till
the issue was clear, one way or
the other.
“Tie is rather wonderful,”
Fiske admitted, though pri
vately he thought Sally more
so, after a man’s way of
thinking. “T shouldn’t have
expected him to show up so
well, in his condition. He would
have everv right to go to
pieces, weak as he is.”
‘‘I’m frightened for the
strain on him. but it’s no use
trying to get him away.”
‘‘Not a bit of use. What
father worth the name, sick or
well, would go away? Tt won’t
hurt him as much as staving
outside would, espoc’dly if—”
That last phrase had slipped
unawares from his lips. It was
the first admission he had
i made that there might be any
j “if” about the case. Tt sent
1 Sally flying back into the room
I But Is Intrusion or espionage worse
j than flooding a neighbor’s home
with an uproar which hampers his
conversation. Interrupts his reading,
prevents concentration on work and
cuts short his sleep? Every other
householder has his radio today;
one chain of hotels has installed
\ them in all rooms. They have been
I thrust into a civilization which lives
behind thin partitions, and on
courts where windows simply must
be raised. The Federal Radio com
I mission, of course, declares it has
j no power to stop late or early
! broadcasting. Some limitation on
'he had left but five minutes
fit fore to see if any slightest
change had taken place. Fiske
followed her, cursing his mo
mentary lapse.
“His color seems a little bet
ter,” he said. Then his eyes
went to Schuyler. Lips set,
profile like a beautiful, atten
uated cameo, the father sat
with gaze fixed on his son’s
face. There could be no doubt
that Schuyler, in this intense
absorption in another life, had
at last forgotten to be anxious
about his own.
It was at midnight that night
that Bob, suddenly and with
out distinguishable preliminary
signs, opened his long lashed
brown eyes and fixed them
upon his father’s face. Sally
was close beside her husband,
her band in his, but it was
Schuyler who received that
first conscious look. Except
for the bandages about his
head, and the only slightly
wasted lines of his usually
l round face, it was precisely as
if Bob had wakened from a
night’s sleep.
“Hullo, Daddy,” said a
small but natural voice.
aauy s ueaa went aown upon
Schuyler’s s h o u 1 d e r—s h e
couldn’t have spoken without a
sob to save her life. But some
how Schuyler managed it. On
the other side of the bed Rich
ard Fiske, himself trying to
overcome the constriction in
his throat, aeknowleged to
himself that Bob’s father could
still play up at such a moment
as a father should.
“Hullo, Bob, old man,” re
turned Schuyler Chase, and
smiled into the child’s eyes.
His thin hands were clenched
convulsively, but his voice was
only slightly unsteady.
Fiske got them out of the
room then, as fast as possible,
for he foresaw the inevitable
reaction. He called in Jo Jen
ney, who had been close at
hand through every hour, and
with her watched the small pa
tient drop away into sleep, re
laxed and babyish in his pos
ture, hand tucked away under
cheek, his breathing normal.
“Lord, but that was a pull,”
his whispered, wiping the mois
ture from his forehead and
then drying his wet eyes. Jo
nodded, fighting back hot tears
of joy, then letting them have
their way.
The thoughts of botb the
watchers were inevitably with
the two in the next room. It
was easy to visualize them
clasped tight in each other’s
arms, shivering and crying and
smiling with the almost intol
erable emotion of the relief,
the little boyish greeting after
the long suspense still sound
ing in their happy ears. Rich
ard Fiske set his teeth as his
imagination ran riot. A hun
dred times during these three
days and nights of endurance
had he longed intolerably to
take Rally into his own arms
and bid her lean on him, who
was strong to support her as a
man should be, not weak with
invalidism and self pity. All
he could do was to take her
cold hand in his warm ones and
hold it close while he bade her
he of pood courage. And now
—there was the incontestable
and increasing knowledge to
face that after all Schuyler
himself had behaved like a
man, and more a’ 1 more so
with each passing hour of
waiting. It had been an amaz
ing thing to watch, really. It
had also been a beautiful and
touching thing—to Jo, espe
cially, who had no gnawing
jealousy to fight.
In the early morning Gordon
Mackay was at the door to ask
about Bob. lie had come and
gone almost with every hour
since he bad heard of the strug
gle for life which was on at
Cherry House, anxious not
only for the child but for the
father and mother. When now
lie saw Jo’s radiant face a look
of strong relief broke over his
own.
“You don’t need to tell
me—• ”
“Oh. but T want to tell you!
He’s absolutely himself. Weak, I
hours can be set by municipal ordi- j
nances. But with a noise making !
machine in one home out of two.
enforcement will have to be left
mainly with tenement owners and
superintendents and to a community
spirit of mutual consideration.
Unquestionably it is a new popu
lar spirit which Is most required.
Americans have built the huge cities
of the last generation with a heed
lessness of noise which strikes every
foreign observer. In our hurry and
strenuosity, our individualism and
good nature, we tolerate deafening
elevated lines, surface cars which
of course, but jolly little Bob
all over. Doctor Fiske aays a
few days in bed, with careful
feeding will make a well boy
of him. They’re so happy it’s
a joy just to see them.”
‘‘Of course it is. Thank God!
—I'd like to see Doctor Chase
happy.”
‘‘You shall. I’ll call him. We
can’t pet him to rest, and Doc
tor Fiske says we may as ■well
let him work out of the excite
ment in his own way.”
‘‘I’ve no doubt he’s right.”
lie followed her into the old
parlor, and stayed her as she
would have gone.
“Wait just a minute, please.
I like to see you happy, too.
It’s been a hard time for you,
but I know the help you must
have been to them. You’?e no
idea how I’ve wanted to be of
use. There seemed to be only
one thing I could do—I’ve
done that, with the rest of
you”
“I know you have.’
They stood smiling at each
other, as do they who have
watched a grim thing ap
proach, and hover, ahd then j
mercifully recede. Or, as they
who have seen the waves break
over a sinking ship, and then
have beheld a lifeboat swing
back over the swirling waters
and bring those in danger safe
ly to shore. One needs not
even to know the names of the
ones in peril to rejoice over the
deliverance. And when one
does know and love those oth
ers to whom the rescue is a
matter of life and death, the
rejoicing is almost as if the
agony of suspense had been
one’s owrn.
Gordon Maokay took Jo’s
hand in both him, stood look
ing at its firm flesh for a mo
ment, then drew it up to press
it against his heart. Knowing
that an act of this sort doesn’t
come from a man of his type
unless under the pressure of
extreme feeling, Jo understood
that he was very deeply moved
—and she also knew that she
herself, in spite of his affection
for Bob, was the center of that
reaction to the whole affair.
She had been through a trying
experience, her face undoubt
edly showed the strain of it, his
thought was of her because he
cared for her most.
“Love and pain,” he asid.
“How inevitably they go to
gether in this world. Yet—
who would do without the one
for fear of the other?”
(From Josephine Jenney’s
Notebook)
What a pattern these days
have woven! Light and dark,
white and scarlet—silver and
gold!
Blessed little Boh is safe.
Lovely Sally Chase can smile
again without making me want
to cry to look at her. Schuyler
Chase—why, Schuyler Chase is
strong! And I'm so glad.
Norah O’Grady says, beam
ing: “The prayers I’ve said for
the hlissid child—I’ve nearly
worn me beads out, shlippin’
thim through me fingers!
Don’t fell me Mary Mother o’
God didn’t hear.”
“I’m not telling you that,
dear Mrs. O’Grady. Someone
heard—Someone listened. God
knows Who.*',
Gordon Mackay—how many
prayers did you say—not on
heads—on your sturdy knees?
(TO BE CONTINUED)
NO BOUNDARIES
Yellow fever has been steadily
driven out of Mexico. Central Amer
ica. Brazil. Peru and Ecuador until
it has been practically banished
from the western world. Now the
Rockefeller Foundation is fighting
yellow fever in West Africa. This
wonderful organization for human
betterment made possible by the
wisely spent millions of the Rocke
fellers knowh no boundaries. II
knows only human need and it is
animated only by unsullied ideals of
human service.
What if 50 per cent, of the men
of even moderate wealth had the
vision of John D. Rockefeller?
What a change would come over the
face of the world!
Civilization is pretty sadly hind
ered by two classes—those who
won’t spend money and those who
don’t know how. A third class—
those who have no money to spend
—is the largest in number but the
least harmful.
grind and clatter, pile drivers,
steam riveters, street cries, auto
mobile honking and a wild variety
of flninor noises. It is no wonder
that many people use the radio with
careless license. We need a spirit
which will recognize quiet as one of
the fundamental decencies of life.
Q. How long did it take to de
velop the movietone? D. F.
A. Theodore Case began 19 years
ago to work toward this end. One
of the first successful movietone
pictures was shown in January. 1927,
Itstarred Raquel Meller, the Span
ish danseuse in her Catalan songs, t
Carnegie Kin, Like
Tunney’s Fiancee,
Leaped Social Bar
The announcement of the engage
ment cf Miss Mary Josephine Row
land Lauder to Gene Tunney. re
tired champion heavyweight boxer
of the world, recalls that 25 years
ago Miss Lucy Carnegie, another
member of the female line in the
dynasty of Andrew Carnegie, the
Scotch ironmaster, astonished the
social world by the announcement
of her marriage to a stud groom in
her mother’s employ. Lucy was the
daughter of Mrs. Tom Carnegie,
widow' of the brother of Andrew.
Her choice for a life partner was
James Hever, an Irishman, who had
spent many years as a coachman
for various families prominent in
New York and vicinity.
Miss Carnegie hurdled all barriers
when she married Hever. The cere
mony was performed in Ashville, N.
C.. where her mother had a great
estate, the couple fleeing to New
York frem the parental wrath. There
they w'ere discovered in a hotel by
the reporters. The bride insisted on
her right to marry the man she
loved, while her handsome, dashing
husband toyed with a new driving
whip he had bought that morning.
When it came Hever’s turn to talk
he dismissed the matter with the
statement that he was sorry his
motherinlaw had taken such an at
titude toward "the inevitable.” that
he’d look around for another job as
soon as the honevmocn was over,
that he was sure he wouldn’t have
much trouble getting one and that
thev weren’t going to starve.
When the reporters saw Andrew
Carnegie the little gray, be-whisk
ered millionaire grinned in >’his
beard. He admitted that he had
never met his niece’s husband, but
that, he hoped to make his ac
quaintance soon.
"By the wav.” he asked, “do you
boys know if he's a gcod groom?”
The reporters assured him that
they had every reason for thinking
that, Hever know his business. Hever,
in his anxiety to prove that he
could get a job. had exhibited to
them references from his two for
mer employers—the only people he
had worked for since h” had land
: ed from Ireland some 10 years pre
j viously.
1 The ironmaster’s sharp eyes
I twinkled when he received the in
| formation, and without any hesita
1 tion delivered himself of the follow
ing comment:
"I’m glad the boy knows his busi
ness. I’m sure its better to have a
good groom in the family than a
no account count.”
Carnegie presented the couple
with an estate cn Long Island,
where the former coachman had a
chance to follow his longing for
breeding and raising horses. His
wife, an ardent horsewoman, toe*
a keen interest in the place until
Hever had a bad fall in the hunt
ing field, which resulted In his
death about 10 years agoL
PESTS TAKE HEAVY TOLL
Millions in Damage Caused by De
stroyers of Fruits and Vegetables
From St. Nicholas
The money loss in this country,
due to insects, exceeds $2,000,000,
000 a year; or; put in another
way, the annual ravages of insets
destroy the labor of 1,000,000,900
men. „ . ,
‘‘If insects wer given perfect free
dom, with neither natural nor hu
man foe. they would soon dominate
the earth."
When easterners came and
brought the potato plant, the potato
bug forsook his old habits and his
i food ( a plant related to the potato)
and sron formed a battle front 1,
! 500 naes miles long, which moved
eastward during the growing season
at an average of two miles a day.
In the middle ’60s he reached In
diana; in 1872 east.-ry Pennsyl
vania; in the centennial year he
was on the slopes of the Green
mountains. The poison spray just
caught and controlled the advance
in time—else he would have girdled
the earth.
The cotton boll weevil became na
tonal menace in 20 years. His an
nual toll is still in excess of $300.
000,000. One female lays about
600 eggs before she dies, and the
bol weevil is far from a past men
ace today.
The Japanese Beetle came in nurs
ery stock to New Jersey, spread to
Pennsylvania ana Marviana, ana is
now spreading to New Yorjc. It eats
and destroys almost anything green.
Prom a number of peach trees 208
gallons of these beetles were shaken
off. and the next morning the trees
were again covered. Sprays do no
good, but a wasp, and two or three
varieties of insects have be?n im
ported from Japan to help extermi
nate the beetles. These •‘fighters’*
either kill the beetle at once, or else
lay eggs around the beetle's grub,
and the larvae kill the bug in short
order.
Against the cotton cushion scale,
the black scale, the red scale, Medi
terranean fruit fly, the cherry fruit
fly, and others, California has
waged unrelenting and successful
war, through importation of killer
bugs and through snrays.
An astronomer tried to cross the
gypsy moth with the silkworm. A
few escaped! And one of the worst
of the insects pests was started on
his pillage of trees in New England.
New York, Ohio, New Jersey and
elsewhere.
These are only a few of the in
sect pests of the1 United States to
dav. They do not include the mos
quitoes that snread vellow fever and
malaria, or the tsetse fly. spreader
of African sleeping sickness, or
the tick that spreads sr^tcd fever
and Texas fever, or a great many
others that spread both death and
sickness to animals, plants, and to
man.
Truly, the war on insects is a na
tional problem today!
Too Much “Dote”
From Life.
Vickers: I'm surprised to hear
he’s been making love to other
women—his wife simply dotes on
him.
Wickers: I guess maybe he wants
an antidote.
Q. For what debts are greenbacks
legal tender? A. T.
A. United Stales notes, common
Iv known as greenbacks, are legal
tender for all debts, public and pri
vate, except customs and interest on
the public debt- receivable for all
public dues; redeemable in gold at
9 treasury.
*70
} The
Taxi Driver
I use Champion Spark
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Champion Is the better spark ptug
because it has an exclusive silli
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stand the much higher
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patented
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Dependable for Every Engine
A Correction
Mr. Laurels—Does it not move yon
strangely to watch the moonlight
1 shimmering on the lake?
Miss Gazippe—You saiil it! But,
say, you mispronounce that word.
Didn’t you mean, “the moonlight
shimmying on the lake?”
Isolate Drunkards
In northern Bussia chronic drunk*
nrds are given the same treatment as
persons suffering from smallpox or
any other pestilence. They are con
fined as a menace to health and lift
of the community.
Might Be Beth
Mother (anxiously)—Bobbie can
hardly speak above a whisper.
Doctor—What is it, ball game or
a cold?
_
POST
Toasties
© 1928. P Co,. Inc.
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