THE
FORBIDDEN YEARS
by
WADSWORTH CAMP
4
'■I guess there’s something
prong with me. The less you
Slink about me the better.”
He grasped her again.
•I’ll never think cf any other
woman. Make up your mind
to It. I want you, and I’m going
to have you.”
She eluded his arms and
flipped between the bars of the
rate. Suddenly she swayed
ack against the fence.
"Harvey! There’s somebody
there; in those bushes!”
He vaulted lightly over and
■tood at her side. The bushes
across the road rustled.
"Who’s there?”
Into the pallid twilight be
tween the trees a gaunt,
itooped form stalked. Barbara
gasped. Harvey drew her
ground.
"It’s Ed Siller. Come along.”
But the caretaker got in
Cieir path. Although it was too
aik to read his face, his at
titude projected a pleased, im
pertinent censoriousness. Bar
para had never liked the man
pbout whose exclusiveness and
restraint she had always found
•omething malevolent. That
Characteristic expressed itself
pow without veils.
"Thought it was you two in
the woods.”
Barbara knew the signs of
Survey’s temper.
"I expect you’d rather spy
than eat, Siller.”
"I expect,” the caretaker
grumbled, "that I would, since
It’s what I’m paid to do.”
"I never heard Mr. Manvel
pbject to people going in his
Woods.”
Barbara tried to urge Harvey
»way.
"Come on. Don’t get mad."
The intention of Siller's re
ply couldn’t be dodged.
"That depends on who and
«nrhen. He certainly don’t want
you and Bobbie Norcross alone
In his woods after dark. He’d
fee a fool if he did after what I
Bust saw.’’
Barbara’s own temper
(lamed.
"What did you see? You be
pareful what you say.”
Siller chuckled. The sound
■was mirthless, obviously in
tended to offend.
“I expect I’d better be to
(pare my blushes for what I
didn’t see.”
Harvey’s clinched hand shot
put. The caretaker toppled and
(h opped to his knees.
"Get up and I’ll give you
(mother on your dirty mouth.”
Siller remained crouched,
looking warily up, his Jaw sag
ging. The night didn’t quite
bide a trickle of red from his
Ups. Harvey took Barbara’s
band.
ljet a gu.
She stirred with a feeling of
awaking a new world, heavy
(With different ugliness. Bur
dened with blameless shame,
the let Harvey lead her up the
lilll. From the top she glanced
hack and saw Siller’s dim, de
formed shape, like an evil
•hade. Slowly, with an air of
Ceaseless effort, it limped after
her up the slope.
Barbara lay on her bed,
Worrying rather formlessly
about the imagination of
prurient people. Ed Siller
wasn’t the only one in back
ward Elmford. What would the
iutcome for her be if he should
itart a train of malevolent
lies that would draw her closer
to Harvey against her will?
8he turned to the wall as her
aunt glided in questioning and
hopeful.
“Harvey say anything to
night?”
She knew that her uncle and
aunt desired the flowering of
that romance, because they
had a taut eagerness, puzzling
to her, for an early marriage,
and they had faith in Har
vey’s ambition. But she
couldn’t decide her whole fu
ture in the dark. The realiza
tion stimulated her hunger for
self-knowledge into an uun
bearable void, and she turned
back slowly, tensly, striving to
surmount the inhibitions oi
years. The struggle ended on
broken whispers.
“Aunt Barbara, what—what
happened when 1 was a child?
Why—why—am—I—”
The tightening of Mrs.
Gardner’s face, the blank fear
of her eyes, rather than her
swift movement for the door,
conquered Barbara. Perhaps
Uncle Walter was right, and
it was better not to know.
“Come here Aunt Barbara.
I want to tell you something.”
Mrs. Gardner paused. Slow
ly she relaxed and tip-toed
back to the bed.
*Mt’s just this: I don’t love
Harvey.”
“What do you know about
love, Bobbie No*cross?”
“Nothing, and certainly you
couldn’t dream c: marrying a
man without knowing a little.”
Mrs. Gardner’s head jerked.
“I’m sure I can’* guess where
you get such notions.”
Perhaps from a white-and
gold mother outlined against
gay draperies, gazing horri
fied, at an object guite beyond
a child’s vision.
“Make up your mind you’re
going to dream about it. You
won’t find a better chance in
Elmford.”
Probably that was true, for
the first time, lying on her
bed, shrinking from her aunt,
the thought came to Barbara
that through her failure to
catch fire from Harvey she
might be driven forth to other
chances, better or worse;..
and onward, for good or evil,
to the knowledge of herself
that she wanted desperately,
yet dreaded.
She sat up in bed and stared
at the glass beyond the foot
board. Life would have been
so much simpler if she could
have found warmth in the
mirrored face, and love in the
puzzled eyes; but there stared
back at her only coldness and
beauty: an icy loveliness. Her
aunt’s jeer drew her away.
“You needn’t look at your
self. I guess you know you’re
too pretty to die an old maid.”
The conclusion was conser
vatively expressed even for
Elmford. Barbara’s dresses,
cheap prints in warm weather,
and cotton masquerading as
wool in cold, failed to hide the
slender graces of her figure.
Her heavy hair, nearly black,
yet lighted by sly flame, piled
from her neck and temples in
orderless waves that achieved
of themselves : counterfeit of
meticulous arrangement. Her
brown eyes had a groping,
pensive guallty from her per
petual tsraying among the re
luctant shadows of her baby
hood; and her mouth, probably
from the misty explorations,
took on, even when she
laughed, soft, wistful lines
that obscured her charming,
provocative face with a nearly
transparent veil of enigma.
Such beauty was exceptional
in Elmford. It might be the
souvenir, then, of that van
ished past of which Barbara
was never allowed to speak.
Too openly Mrs. Gardner
found it in something profane;
a quality to be distrusted. And
now suppose that evil figure
| at the Manvil place should
cast his twisted shadow across
it.
But was she truly beattiful?
Barbara had no faith in Elm
ford’s judgement. Even the
admiration of her former
teacher at the public school,
Miss Minnie Barton, who was
too pretty and competent her
self to remain long in the vil
lage, had failed to convince
her; but now that Miss Minnie
had left to accept a minor
position in the university
library at Princeton, Barbara
found herself longing for the
approval of her steady, hazel
eyes. Then one morning she
saw Jacob Manvel in her
uncle’s store, and, surprised,
read in his peering gaze a
eulogy she couldn’t distrust.
Her first glimpse of the
owner of the big house was a
little disappointing. As Harvey
had told her, he was tall, spare,
and near-sighted. She won
dered if it were a false pride
that hindered him from plac
ing proper lenses before his
eyes. A crisp, ashen mustache
called one’s attention to the
gauntness of his face, its long
straight nose, its prominent
bones, its hollow cheeks, its
high narrow forehead. The
loose flannels he wore, his
soft linen, his easy felt hat
made him -eern out of place
in the store.
In common with her uncle,
Harvey, and the few shoppers
along the counter Barbara
Barbara stared. All at once she
looked down, coloring, for she
realized that Mr. Manvel was
regarding her as amazedly
raptly as she did him.
““Warm weather for the sea
son; much too warm for the
football squads.”
Although he spoke to Mr.
Gardner, Barbara chained his
gaze. The voice was rather
rather high, the intonation
taccato. Barbara gathered her
packages and fled from those
felt excited, stimulated; and
that night she was self-con
scious when Uncle Walter ar
rived to retail his drama of the
day.
“Jacob Manvei was in me
store. Bobbie saw him, too.”
He distorted his face with
his acrocious grimace.
“And Jacob Manvel saw Bob
bie. Didn’t have eyes for an
other soul in the store.”
Then it was true, for even
he had observed that.
“And after Bobbie left he
wanted to know who she was.”
Mrs. Gardner looked up,
frowning.
“Why should he want to
know that?”
“Can’t answer,” Mr. Gardner 1
said lugubriously, "any more ,
, than I can tell you why he
said: “Gardner, that’s a hand
! some girl, a damned handsome
t girl.”’
Barbara slipped out, con
fused and made uncomfortable
by this appraisal that she
couldn’t distrust. What was
the use of beauty if it was
shaped from ice?
Mrs. Manvel she glimpsed
I at first more remotely than
; her husband. Through the
windows of a swiftly moving
automobile she got no more
than an impression of fine
clothing, unreasonable youth,
and an apparent inability to
I iook rignt or leiu
It was late October before
she saw the third member of
the family, the young man in
his last year at Princeton, who,
Harvey had told her, was sure
to be a weak sistei. Harvey
had an errand for the store
at a potato farm near Prince
ton, and asked Barbara to go
too. She shrank from the long
ride alone with him, but he
had avoided awkward ground
since their encounter with Ed
Siller, and foolishly she be
lieved the ugly memory would
keep him aloof.
Her impression of toppling
on the rim of a crisis, never
I theless, commenced to spoil
; the excursion, and as the day
wore on other apprehensions,
; less tangible, approached slyly
to increase her depression.
Near Princeton the country
resembled an endless garden.
She identified on either side
of the road sections of the gar
den as private properties, some
of them as rich and austere
as the Manvel place. Sardoni
cally they instructed her that
she had been wonderstruck by
that because it was unique in
her experience.
As they drove along Nassu
Street the Gothic towers
| pointed ironically upward. The
leaded windows in the long, i
gray habitations of fortunate !
youth gave her jeering |
twinkles. The sweeping, j
flowering lawns reminded her
of the contsruction and aridity
of her life. During all these
years with the Gardners she
had never visualized this
grace, massiveness, and so
phistication; she had never
striven to imagine the other
marvels of vitality and pro
gress that must lie in many
other directions just around
the corner from the smallness,
the ugliness, the smugness of
Elmford.
“What’s the matter, Bob'
bie?
“Nothing. Why?”
“You don’t seem to be hav
ing a good time.”
How could she have with all
this richness drawing her
memory back futilcly? If that
sharp sound hadn’t awakened
her. if the breathless tableau
in her father’s dressing room
hadn’t been posed, would she
at the age of twenty, guided
by an awkward young country
man, distinguished already,
however, by the touch of
destiny, be taking her first
steps in the broader world?
She remembered her old
teacher, and had an urge to go
to her for comfort and advice
as she had so frequently done
during her schooldays. They
found Miss Barton at the li
brary, and she arranged to
look out for Barbara while
Harvey saw to his errand.
Since it was Saturday she
would take Barbara to the
football game, and Harvey
would meet them at the sta
dium.
Miss Minnie Barton had
matured since leaving Elm
ford. She had brushed at least
against the living world; but
sitting in the stadium, wait
ing for the game to commence,
Barbara couldn’t free her con
fidence from a binding of
multiple repressions. Miss
Minnie’s pliable fingers went
at them directly.
“You’re not happy, Bobbie.
What’s wrong?”
Sitll the cords were too taut.
Miss Minnie’s laugh rippled.
“Harvey looks at you as if
he owned you already.”
Barbara partly freed her
self.
“Miss Minnie, even though
you wanted more than any
thing in the world to make
him happy, you couldn’t give
in could you to marrying a
man you didn’t feel you had
to?”
Miss Minnie laughed again,
and turned away, flushing.
“That’s a poser for an old
maid. I fancy if you don’t care
quite a lot for a man that sort
of experience might be fairly
trying. Please don’t think I’m
unfair, my dear, or snobbish.
You always were a striking
youngster, but coming on me
this way after a long time you
fairly take my breath. You’re
up to a lot better than Har
vey.”
Barbara shook her neaa,
frowning at the growing ranks
of spectators.
“You’re wrong. Harvey’s too
good for me. I’d give anything
if I could love him. I just
just can’t. I can’t care for any
one that way. It makes me
unhappy, ashamed.”
Miss Minnie’s eyes widened.
She bent closer, whispering.
“When you find you’re
wrong, as you will any day
now, you’ll have a trickier
problem than Harvey's given
you.”
But Barbara didn’t believe.
“There’s only one problem
for me in Elmford: marriage.”
“Then why don't you shake
free of Elmiord, Bobbie? You
never seemed to belong there.”
Barbara shrugged her shoul
ders.
“I don’t even know how I
came there.”
__---—
(TO B> CONTINUED)
THKEE YEAR OLD PRODIGY
Marshalltown, la.—(UP)—Jerry
' Gregson, aged three, knows and can
recite 150 poems from memory. Jer
ry has accomplished in a year the
memorizing of these verses, whith
were learned from a book of nur
sery rhymes. Now he is attempting
| to learn to write. _
No Typical American.
From Cleveland Plain eDaler.
The American is a myth; he
doesn't exist. The typical Ameri
cas town or countryside is like- j
wise a figment of the imagination; i
It has no reality. There are many i
Americans and many American i
towns, but none representative of !
toe whole.
An English commonwealth fund i
fellow studying at Yale has been
touting the United States from
coast to coast. Some of his obser
vations are interesting. The Eng
lishman or the Qeiman may be
discoverable in his own country,
put the search for an American
thoroughly typical of his nation
was in vain.
Between the Californian and the
New Englander, or between the
Georgian and the Indianan there j
are differences that might, to a :
casual observer, indicate wholly
different nationalities. Between the
dweller in a congested district of
an industrial community and the
Kansas farmer the diversities out
number the resemblances. Yet all
are Americans bound together by
ties stronger than mere personal
appearances or mental slants.
The successful role played by the
United States in the late war
proved to the world that U|h cpup
try could act unitedly and effec
tively in spite of the vast differ
ences due to geography. Industry
and the inherited reactions from
generations past. The leadership
in financial restoration which Mr.
Hoover now offers and to which
the country warmly responds is
further indication that the nation
can act as a unit, even though
"the" American does not exist.
One is inclined to agree with
H. L. Puxley, the English student
who makes these observations
touching the diversities among us.
It may be impossible to isolate
type, but its absence seems not
I to hamper Americans in anything
worth while they care to under
take. _ ^_
DON’T CUP CLOSE
One reason some lawns turn
brown and dry up is because the
grass has been clipped too close.
Close clipping allows the hot sum
mer sun to get at the roots of the
grass and dry them up.
FOR DRY SOIL
If your soil is dry and poor, try
plants that prefer such conditions.
Some plants in this classification
are yuccas, cinquefoil, globe thistle,
junipers, heather, native rosea, »ea
holly and portulae*.
Maximum of Fighting Ef
ficiency Represented by
Small Craft
Paris—(UP)—While still opposed
;o the building of huge rigid di
igibles of the Zeppelin and Akron
type, the French government has
had constructed and successfully
nested a novel pony dirigible which
represents the maximum of fighting
or commercial efficiency yet at
tained by small rigid airships.
This new dlrigiole, destined for
the French navy, is capable of
about GO miles an hour, as fast as
many of the heavy bombardment
planes and yet so easily managed
that it can be operated by a single
pilot and his mechanic.
No other military force possesses
such a handy airship, capable of
carrying 1 1-3 tons of bombs or
air mail. The gasbags have a ca
pacity of 3,400 cubic meters, and
the ship is driven by two 120
horsepower motors.
This new ship, known as the
Zoaiac VII, is so small that it can
be housed In the average air
plane hangar. Its cabin is built
into the framework of the trilobe
balloon, so as to give great rigid
ity to the whole ship. This per
mits it to turn in a distance of
twice its own length, at full speed,
without danger.
The Zodiac VII will be able to
land without a ground crew, for
it has a pneumatic bumper which
can be replaced by pontoons if the
airship is to be used over water
even in rough seas.
The French believe that airships
would have certain advantages for
mail carrying to the African col
onies over airplanes and it is pos
sible that the Zodiac VII may
make a test flight for that pur^
pose.
“WE POINT WITH PRIDE.”
“Hurrah.” exclaims the G. O. P.
"See what our party's done;
Bv standing fast for farm relief,
What victory we’ve won!
“GrasshoDDers. that the fates have
sent,
Had ruined farmers quite,
Had not our statesmen quickly seen,
To save them from their plight.
"For had they eaten dollar wheat,
Or corn at 80 cents,
Just think, dear friends, what that
had meant
In loss of crop share rent.
"But ever trust the G. O. P.
A peril pointed out
To us, in just a moment L
A peril put to rout.
“And so the landlords we hav*
saved.
And farmers, too, from loss;
Bv cutting prices right in two,
We’ve helped them bear theli
cross.
* 'Tis ever so the G. O. P.
Stands by the stricken masses—
Nor e'er forgets the debt it owes
Unto our ruling classes.”
—Sam Page.
■-♦♦
Fishing for Temblors.
Prom Philadelphia Public Ledger.
Plans of the navy department to
plumb the Great Bartlett Deep in
the Caribbean sea between Hon
duras and Cuba in search of a prob
able Central American earthquake
source will add another chapter to
the constantly growing body of
knowledge about the earth’s valleys.
Bartlett Deep, which already has
been partially sounded, is a trough
1.000 miles long, 50 to 60 miles
across and more than two miles
lower than the surrounding ocean
bottom. Much of it is known to lie
at least three and a half miles be
low the surface of the ocean, and
depths of four miles have been re
corded.
The known great deeps of the
ocean are generally believed to have
definite relations to the earth's
seismographic action. The greatest
recorded depth, 35.410 feet, or near
ly seven miles, is in the Mindanao
Deep, between the Philippines and
Japan, a definite earthquake area.
The deepest spot in the Atlantic,
near the Porto Rican earthquake
region, is 27,972 feet. In the Malay
region of terrestrial nervousness is
a deep of some 21,300 feet. In Ber
ing sea, off the scene of Alaska's
tremors is a deep of 13,422 feet.
A British Poet's Political Pessimism
in 1799.
Fr i a letter from Robert Southey
to his Brother Tom.
It is not yet known here whether
the war has certainly recommenced
in Germany or not. If it has it can
onlv end in the utter subversion
of the French or imperial power.
The new system or the old must
fall. Europe must be devastated by
the revolutionary whirlwind or pois
oned bv the plague vapors of des
potism and superstition and perse
i on. We must either suffer under
the inquisition or the revolutionary
tribunal. This is the alternative to
which our ministry are driving us
—and which only a change here
rnd peace can preserve us from. The
income bill produces not a fifth part
of the year’s expenses. The nigh
aristocrats wince at it. What will
they do next year when perhaps
the capital, not the income, will be
;ithed9
I believe from my soul that Fox
;ould save the country. But I never
?xpected to see its salvation. I love
England—the country of Alfred, of
Coeur de Lion, of Milton, of Sidney.
But a land enslaved shall never be
my country—in proportion as I
;oved it free should I grieve for and
loathe it enslaved.
Tv :n, I wish we had a South Sea
island. God bless you. Your affec*
ionate brother,
Robert Southey.
Love from all.
Bristol, March 14, 1799.
Ol>D CHRISTENING
Albuquerque, N. M. — The new
iake and bathing beach in Conser
vation park had a real christening
recently. Two large bottles of wa
ter, one from Los Angeles ana the
Pacific coast and one from Atlantic
City and the Atlantic ocean, were
broken into the waters of the beach.
The bottles bore elaborate seals and
were broken as part of an elaborate
ceremony.
Several dozen special coaches
j have been chartered to take Texas
fans to the Harvard-Texas football
I came at. Cambridge October 24.
MercolizedWax
Keeps Skin Young
Get an t uoee and use %e directed. Fine particle of
ekia peel off until all defects such as pimples, liver
spots, tan and freckles disappear. Skin is then soli
and velvety. Vour face looks years younger. Mernolised
Was brings out the hidden beauty of your skin. To
remove wrinkle* use one ounce Powdered tSazolil#
dissolved in one-half pint witch hazel. A * drug stores.
O Well!
“What Is the date?”
“I don't know, but look on the
newspaper you have in your pocket.”
“That is no use—it's yesterday’s."
—Berliu Ulk.
How to train BABY’S
BOWELS
Babies, bottle-fed or breast-fed,
with any tendency to be constipated,
would thrive if they received daily
half a teaspoonful of this old family
doctor’s prescription for the bowels.
That is one sure way to train tiny
bowels to healthy regularity. To
avoid the fretfulness, vomiting,
crying, failure to gain, and other ills
of constipated babies.
Dr. Caldwell’s Syrup Pepsin is
good for any baby. For this, you have
the word of a famous doctor. Forty
seven years of practice taught him
just what babies need to keep their
little bowels active, regular; keep
little bodies plump and healthy. For
Dr. Caldwell specialized in the treat
ment of women and little ones. He
attended over 3500 births without
loss of one mother or baby.
Dr. W. B. Caldwell's
SYRUP PEPSIIM
A Doctor's Family Laxative
DISTRIBUTORS, AGENTS WASTE#-For
line of razor blades. Wonderful quality
blades. Excellent repeat sales. Federal
Razor Corp., Dept. B. 1140 Broadway, N T.
Cancer Blood Alkaline
Cancer victims have blood more
alkaline than normal, and the in
creased alkalinity seems to be relat
ed to the speed with which the dis
ease ends fatally.
Ample Proof
Proud Papa—Darling, our baby
smiled at me.
Sweet Mamma—Then lie has a
sense of humor, Henry.
What the Gears Think
First Gear—Where yuh been?
Second Gear—Aw, just meshln’
around.
Makes You Lose
Unhealthy Fat
Mrs. Ethel Smith of Norwich,
Conn., writes: "I lost 1G lbs. with
niy first bottle of Krusclien. Being
on night duty it was hard to sleep
days but now since I am taking
Krusclien I sleep plenty, eat as usual
and lose fat too.”
To take off fat—take one half tea
spoonful of Krusclien in a glass of
hot water every morning before
breakfast—an 85 cent bottle lasts 4
weeks—Get It at any drug store In
America. If this first bottle falls to
convince you this is the easiest, sur
est and safest way to lose fat your
money gladly returned.
On the Warpath
Walter—‘‘Has your order been tak
en, sir?” Would-be-Diner—“Yes, and
so has Bunker Hill."
How old is "old"?
You can be young at sixty. Or old at
twenty. It’s all a matter of taking care
of your health.
If you feel "run-down”, and have no
“pep”, take Fellows’ Syrup. You w ill be
amazed at the way it restores fagged
out nerves and tired bodies.
Fellows’ Syrup, with its valuable
health-building properties, has been pre
scribed by physicians in 53 countries of
the world. It is obtainable at your drug
gist’s. Get a bottle today. You won’t
regret it.
FELLOWS
SYRUP
•ioux City Ptg- Co., No. *7-19*1.
