DEN
DINE
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COPYRIGHT
S.S.VAN DINE W.N.U. SERVICE
SYNOPSIS
Philo Vance, famous detective, and
John F. X, Markham, district attorney
for New York county, are dining In
Vance's apartment when Vance receives
an anonymous telephone message in
forming him of a "disturbing psychologi
cal tension at Professor Ephriam Gar
den’s apartment" advising that he read
up on radio-active sodium, consult a
passage in the Aeneid and counseling
that “Equanimity is essential.” Pro
fessor Garden is famous in chemical
research. The message, decoded by
Vance, reminds him that Professor Gar
den's son Floyd and his puny cousin,
Woode Swift, are addicted to horse-rac
ing. Vance says that “Equanimity” is
a horse running next day in the River
mont handicap. Vance is convinced that
the message was sent by Dr. Siefert,
the Gardens’ family physician. He ar
ranges to have lunch next day at the
Gardens’ penthouse. Vance is greeted
by Floyd Garden and meets Lowe
Hammle, an elderly follower of horse
racing. Floyd expresses concern over
Swift's queer actions. Mrs. Garden, sup
posedly ill, comes downstairs and places
a $100 bet on a horse. Gathered around
an elaborate loud speaker service, listen
ing to the racing are Cecil Kroon,
Madge Weatherby and Zalia Graem,
who bet varying amounts on the race.
There is tension under the surface .gai
ety. Zalia and Swift are not rn speak
ing terms. Kroon leaves to keep an
appointment before the race starts. Miss |
Beeton, a nurse, and Vance ber.cn
i “Azure Star.” Swift recklessly bets $10,
* 000 on “Equanimity” and goes to the
roof garden to hear the results. Floyd
follows Swift, remaining away several
minutes. Zalia answers a phone call in
the den. Soon after the announcement
that “Azure Star” wins, the guests hear
a shot. Vance finds Swift dead, shot
through the head with a revolver nearby.
He says Swift has been murdered. After
calling the police, he finds the door of a
vault ajar. Kroon returns and is sharply
questioned by Vance, who finds he had
not left the building. Vance orders Miss
Beeton to guard the stairway and pre
r. vent Mrs. Garden and Zalia from view
ing Swift's body. Floyd Garden admits
the revolver belongs to his father. Fur
ther questioning by Vance reveals that
the revolver had been found recently by
Zalia in the presence of the other guests.
Floyd hints that Swift bet so recklessly
because of Zalia. Markham, Sergeant
Heath and two detectives arrive.
CHAPTER V—Continued
—7—
“Of course,” he said, ‘there’s
nothing in the outline I’ve given you
to indicate murder. Nevertheless,
it was murder; and that outline is
exactly the concatenation of events
which the murderer wants us to
accept. We are supposed to arrive
at the obvious conclusion of suicide.
Suicide as the result of losing mon
ey on horses is by no means a rare
occurrence. It is not impossible
that the murderer’s scheme was in
fluenced by this account. But there
are other factors, psychological and
actual, which belie this whole super
ficial and deceptive structure.” He
drew on his cigarette and watched
the thin blue ribbon of smoke dis
perse in the light breeze from the
river. “To begin with,” he went on,
^ “Swift was not the suicidal type.
* In the first place. Swift was a weak
ling and a highly imaginative one.
Moreover, he was too hopeful and
ambitious—too sure of his own judg
ment and good luck—to put himself
out of the world simply because
he had lost all his money. The fact
that Equanimity might not win the
race was an eventuality which, as a
confirmed gambler, he would have
k taken into consideration beforehand.
* In addition, his nature was such
that, if he were greatly disappoint
ed the result would be self-pity,and
hatred of others. He might, in an
emergency, have committed a
crime—but it would not have been
against himself. Like all gamblers,
he was trusting and gullible; and I
think it was these temperamental
qualities which probably made him
an easy victim for the murderer
» »
c • •
CHAPTER VI
“But see here, Vance.” Markham
leaned forward protestingly. “No
amount of mere psychological anal
ysis can make a crime out of a situ
ation as seemingly obvious as this
one. I must have more definite
reasons than you have given me be
fore I would be justified in dis
carding the theory of suicide.”
“Oh, I dare say,” nodded Vance.
“But I have more tangible evidence
that the johnnie did not eliminate
himself from this life.”
“Well, let’s have it.” Markham
fidgeted impatiently in his chair.
“Imprimis, my dear Justinian, a
bullet wound in the temple would
undoubtedly cause more blood than
you see on the brow of the deceased.
There are, as you notice, only a
few partly coagulated drops, where
* as the vessels of the brain cannot
™ be punctured without a considerable
flow of blood. And there is no
blood either on his clothes or on the
tiles beneath his chair. Meanin’
that the blood has been, perhaps,
spilled elsewhere before I arrived
on the scene—which was, let us
say, within thirty seconds after we
heard the shot.
“And please take a good look at
the poor fellow. His legs are
^ stretched forward at an awkward
r *
angle. The trousers are twisted out
of place and look most uncomforta
ble. His coat, though buttoned, is
riding his shoulder, so that his col
lar is at least three inches above
his exquisite mauve shirt. No man
could endure to have his clothes so
outrageously askew, even on the
point of suicide — he would have
straightened them out almost un
consciously. The corpus delicti
shows every indication of having
been dragged to the chair and
placed in it.”
Markham’s eyes were surveying
the limp figure of Swift as Vance
talked.
“Even that argument is not en
tirely convincing,” he said dogmat
ically, though his tone was a bit
modified; “especially in view of the
fact that he still wears the ear
phone ...”
“Ah, exactly!” Vance took him up
quickly. “That’s another item to
which I would call your attention.
The murderer went a bit too far—
there was a trifle too much thor
oughness in the setting of the stage.
Had Swift shot himself in that chair,
I believe his first impulsive move
ment would have been to remove
the head-phone, as it very easily
could have interfered with his pur
pose. And it certainly would have
been of no use to him after he had
heard the report of the race. Fur
thermore, I seriously doubt if he
would have come upstairs to listen
to the race with his mind made up
in advance that he was going to
commit suicide in case his horse
didn't come in. And, as 1 have
explained to you, the revolver is
one belonging to Professor Garden
and was always kept in the desk
in the study. Consequently, if Swift
had decided, after the race had
been run, to shoot himself, he would
hardly have gone into the study,
procured the gun, then come back
to his chair on the roof and put the
head-phone on again before ending
his life. Undoubtedly he would have
shot himself right there in the study
—at the desk from which he had
obtained the revolver.”
Vance moved forward a little as
if for emphasis.
“Another point about that head
phone—the point that gave me the
first hint of murder—is the fact
that the receiver at present is over
Swift’s right ear. Earlier today I
saw Swift put the head-phone on
for a minute, and he was careful
to place the receiver over his left
ear—the custom’ry way. But now
the head-phone is on in reversed
position, and therefore unnatural.
I’m certain, Markham, that head
phone was placed on Swift after he
was dead.”
Markham meditated on this for
several moments.
“Still, Vance,” he said at length,
“reasonable objections could be
raised to all the points you have
brought up. They are based almost
entirely on theory and not on dem
onstrable facts.”
“From a legal point of view,
you're right,” Vance conceded.
“And if these had been my only
reasons for believing that a crime
had been committed, I wouldn’t
have summoned you and the
doughty sergeant. But, even so,
Markham, I can assure you the few
drops of blood you see on the chap
pie’s temple could not have thick
ened to the extent they had when
I first saw the body—they must
have been exposed to the air for
several minutes. And, ac I say, I
was up here approximately thirty
seconds after we heard the shot.”
“But that being the case,” re
turned Markham in astonishment,
"how can you possibly explain the
fact?”
Vance straightened a little and
looked at the district attorney with
unwonted gravity.
“Swift,” he said, “was not killed
by the shot we heard.”
“That don't make sense to me,
Mr. Vance,” Heath interposed,
scowling.
“Just a moment, Sergeant.”
Vance nodded to him in friendly
fashion. “When I realized that the
shot that wiped out this johnnie’s
existence was not the shot that we
had heard, I tried to figure out
where the fatal shot could have
been fired without our hearing it
below. And I’ve found *he place. It
was in a vault-like store-room—prac
tically sound-proof, I should say—
on the other side of the passage
way that leads to the study. I found
the door unlocked and looked for ev
idence of some activity there . ”
Markham had risen and taken a
few nervous steps around the pool
in the center of the roof.
"Did you find any evidence,” he
asked, “to corroborate your the
ory?”
“Yes — unmistakable evidence.”
Vance walked over to the still fig
ure in the chair and pointed to the
thick-lensed glasses tipped forward
on the nose. “To begin with, Mark
ham, you will notice that Swift’s
glasses are in a position far from
normal, indicatin’ that they were
put on hurriedly and inaccurately
by someone else—just as was the
head-phone.”
Markham and Heath leaned over
and peered at the glasses.
“Well, Mr. Vance,” agreed the
sergeant, “they certainly don’t look
as if he had put ’em on himself.”
Markham straightened up, com
pressed his lips, and nodded slowly.
“All right,” he said; “what else?”
“Perpend, Markham.” Vance
pointed with his cigarette. “The
left lens of the glasses—the one
furthest from the punctured temple
—is cracked at the corner, and
there’s a very small V-shaped piece
missing where the crack begins—
an indication that the glasses have
been dropped and nicked. I can
assure you that the lens was nei
ther cracked nor nicked when I last
saw Swift alive.”
“Couldn’t he have dropped his
glasses on the roof here?” asked
Heath.
“Possible of course, Sergeant,”
Vance returned. “But he didn’t.
I carefully looked over the tiles
round the chair, and the missin'
bit of glass was not there.”
Markham looked at Vance
shrewdly.
"And perhaps you know? where it
is.”
“Yes—oh, yes.” Vance nodded.
“That’s why I urged you to come
here. That piece of glass is at
present in my waistcoat pocket.”
Markham showed a new interest.
“Where did you find it?” he de
manded brusquely.
“I found it,” Vance told him,
“on the tiled floor in the vault
across the hall. And it was near
some scattered papers which could
easily have been knocked to the
floor by some one falling against
them."
Markham’s eyes opened incredu
lously.
“I’m beginning to see why you
wanted me and the sergeant here,”
he said slowly. “But what I don’t
understand, Vance, is that second
shot that you heard. How do you
account for it?”
Vance drew deeply on his ciga
rette.
“Markham,” he answered, with
quiet seriousness; “when we know
how and by whom that second shot
—which was obviously intended for
us to hear—was fired, we will know
who murdered Swift .
At this moment the nurse ap
peared in the doorway leading to
the roof. With her was Doctor
Doremus, and behind the medical
He Made a Cursory Examination
of the Limp Figure.
examiner were Captain Dubois and
Detective Bellamy, the finger-print
men, and Peter Quackenbush, the
official police photographer.
Miss Beeton indicated our pres
ence on the roof and made her way
back downstairs.
Doremus acknowledged our joint
greeting with a breezy wave of
the hand.
He made a cursory examination
of the limp figure, scrutinized the
bullet hole, tested the arms and
legs for rigor mortis, and then
swung about to face the rest of us.
“Well, what about it?” he asked,
in his easy cynical manner. “He’s
dead; shot in the head with a small
caliber bullet; and the lead's prob
ably lodged in the brain. No exit
hole. Looks as if he’d decided to
shoot himself. There’s nothing here
to contradict the assumption. The
bullet went into the temple, and is
at the correct angle. Furthermore,
there are powder marks, showing
that the gun was held at very close
range—almost a contact wound, I
should say. There’s an indication of
singeing around the orifice.”
Vance took the cigarette from his
mouth and addressed Doremus.
“I say doctor; speakin’ of the
blood on the johnnie's temple, what
would you say about the amount?”
"Too damned little, I'd say,”
Doremus returned promptly. “But
bullet wounds have a queer way of
acting sometimes. Anyway, there
ought to be a lot morj gore.”
"Precisely,” Vance nodded. “My
theory is that he was shot else
where and brought to this chair.”
Doremus made a wry face.
“Was shot? Then you don’t think
it was suicide?" He pondered a
moment. “It could be, of course,”
he decided finally. “Find the rest of
the blood and you’ll probably know
where his death occurred."
“Thanks awfully, doctor.” Vance
smiled faintly. "That did flash
through my mind, don’t y' know;
but I believe the blood was wiped
up. I was merely hopin’ that your
findings would substantiate my the
ory that he did not shoot himself
while sitting in that chair, without
any one else around.”
Doremus shrugged indifferently.
“That’s reasonable enough as
sumption,” he said. "There really
ought to be more blood. He died
instantly.”
“Have you any other sugges
tions?” asked Vance.
“I may have when I’ve gone over
the body more carefully after these
babies”—he waved his hand toward
the photographer and the finger
print men—"finish their hocus-poc
us.”
Captain Dubois and Detective Bel
lamy had already begun their rou
tine, with the telephone table as the
starting-point; and Quackenbush
was adjusting his small metal tri
pod.
Vance turned to Dubois. “I say,
Captain, give your special attention
to the head-phone, the revolver,
and the glasses. Also the door
knob of the vault across the hall in
side.”
Quackenbush, his camera having
been set up, took his pictures and
then waited by the passageway door
for further instructions from the
finger-print officers.
When the three men had gone in
side, Doremus drew in an ex
aggerated sigh and spoke to Heath
impatiently.
“How about getting your corpus
delicti over on the stttee? Easier
to examine him there.”
“O. K., Doc.”
Two detectives lifted Swift’s limp
body and placed it on the same
wicker divan where Zalia Graem
had lain when she collapsed at the
sight of the dead man.
Doremus went to work in his usu
al swift and efficient fashion. When
he had finished the task, he threw a
steamer rug over the dead man,
and made a brief report to Vance
and Markham.
“There’s nothing to indicate a vio
lent struggle, if that’s what you’re
hoping for. But there’s a slight
abrasion on the bridge of the nose,
as if his glasses had been jerked
oft; and there’s a slight bump on
the left side of his head, over the
ear, which may have been caused
by a blow of some kind, though the
skin hasn't been broken.”
“How, doctor,” asked Vance,
“would the following theory square
with your findings—that the man
had been shot elsewhere, had fallen
to a tiled floor, striking his head
against it sharply, that his glasses
had been torn oft when the left
lens came in contact with the floor,
and that he was carried out here
to the chair, and the glasses re
placed on his nose?”
Doremus pursed his lips and in
clined his head thoughtfully.
“That would be a very reasonable
explanation of the lump on his head
and the abrasion on the bridge of
his nose ... So this is another of
your cock-eyed murders, is it? Well,
it’s all right with me. But I’ll tell
you right now, you won’t get an
autopsy report tonight. I’m bored
and need excitement; and I’m going
to Madison Square Garden.”
He made out an order for the re
moval of the body, readjusted his
hat, waved a friendly good-by which
included all of us, and disappeared
swiftly through the door into the
passageway.
Vance led the way into the study,
and the rest of us followed him. We
were barely seated when Captain
Dubois came in and reported that
there were no finger-prints on any of
the objects Vance had enumerated.
“Handled with gloves,” he finished
laconically, "or wiped clean."
Vance thanked him. “I’m not in
the least surprised,” he added.
Dubois rejoined Bellamy and
Quackenbush in the hall, and the
three made their way down the
stairs.
“Well, Vance, are you satisfied?”
Markham asked.
Vance nodded. "I hadn’t expect
ed any fingerprints. Cleverly
thought-out crime. And what Do
remus found fills some vacant spots
in my own theory. Stout fella, Do
remus, understands his business. He
knows what is wanted and looks for
it. There can be no question that
Swift was in the vault when he was
shot; that he fell to the floor, brush
ing down some of the papers; that
he struck his head on the tiled floor,
and broke the left lens of his glasses
—you noted, of course, that the lump
on his head is also on the left side—
and that he was dragged into the
garden and placed in the chair.
Swift was a small, slender man;
probably didn’t weigh over a hun
dred and twenty pounds; and it
would have been no great feat of
strength for someone to have thus
transported him after death . . .”
There were footsteps in the corri
dor and, as our eyes involuntarily
turned toward the door, we saw the
(“gnified elderly figure of Professor
Ephraim Garden. I recognized him
immediately from pictures I had
seen.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
Naming the Cocker Sjaniol
The Cocker spaniel was highly
prized as long ago as 1803, when
popular books on dogs spoke of the
breed as possessing “remarkable
sagacity,” “fidelity,” “gratitude,”
etc. "Unwearied” as a ;hooting dog,
this type was also extolled as the
paragon of house dogs. The origin
of his name is not difficult to trace.
As the woodcock was commonly re
ferred to as "cock” and the sport
of shooting his bird was called
"cocking,” it is easy to see how
the Cocker spaniel got its name,
as the breed was extensively used
in this form of hunting.
Twas This Way
86
By LYLE SPENCER
© Western Newspaper Union.
Jazz Music
««'T'HE music goes down around
* whoa-ho-ho-ho -." That
tune swept America from coast to
coast recently until its very sound
made radio listeners grind their
teeth. It also marked the return
to popularity of “swing" music.
“Swing" or real jazz reached its
first peak during the 1920's along
with short skirts a»d flappers.
Whether it originated among the
natives along the gold coast of Af
rica, or in colored orchestras along
the gold coast of our larger cities,
is still a matter of dispute.
At any rate, the first black hero
of jazz was Louis Armstrong, who
created a sensation in Chicago with
his wild trumpet solos of such pieces
as "Struttin’ with Some Barbecue,"
"Gully Low Blues." and “A Monday
Date.” His early records are still
as highly prized by jazz lovers as
a Beethoven symphony.
After Armstrong came many
other famous swing bands like Jean
Goldkette’s and Frank Trum
bauer's. But the popularity of jazz
began to crumble about 1929 with
the stock market. Maybe it is as
sociated with business prosperity.
The beginning of its comeback dates
from the winter of 1935, when "The
Music Goes Round and Round” ran
riot through the nation.
In spite of the fact that jazz has
become an American byword, no
one seems to know exactly what
the word means.
Greater Than Napoleon
Napoleon bonaparte was
probably responsible for the de
struction of more human lives than
any other man. During the Napole
onic wars and those that followed it,
five or six million people were killed.
Napoleon is well known to every
school boy. Yet a man who saved
many more lives than Napoleon lost
is known only to the small group
of people who have read the history
of medicine. That man is Edward
Jenner, the discoverer of smallpox
vaccination.
As a young country doctor, Jenner
noticed that dairymaids who con
tracted cowpox from the cows they
milked seldom fell ill with small
pox. Cowpox produces sores on the
skin much like those of smallpox,
except that the disease is very mild.
From this, Jenner got the .dca of
vaccinating people with cowpox
serum to prevent them from having
smallpox.
He tried it out on his country
practice, and found that none of his
patients contracted smallpox after
wards, even when they were in
oculated with smallpox germs. When
he finally announced his great dis
covery to the world in 1798, a few
people received it with great ac
claim. But many more opposed it
violently, saying that smallpox was
a visitation from God as a retri
bution for the sins of man.
Napoleon used the vaccine on his
soldiers, as did a few other far
seeing people, but it has taken well
over a hundred years for the prin
ciple of vaccination to become gen
erally accepted.
The Social Register
THE most exclusive group in
New York’s high society suppos
edly contains only 400 members.
That is a tradition which has come
down to us from the days when Mrs.
William Astor was the reigning so
ciety matron of the city. She lim
ited her inner circle to 400 because
that was all her ballroom would
comfortably hold!
The golden age of conspicuous
display in American society was
during the gay nineties. Those were
the days when hostesses tried to
outdo each other in the lavishness
of the parties they gave. Stories
are still told of how guests some
times smoked cigarettes rolled in
$100 bills and ate oysters on the
half-shell, each containing a mag
nificent black pearl.
At one fancy-dress ball, Mr. Bel
mont is said to have worn a suit of
gold-inlaid armor made specially for
tbe occasion that cost $10,000. A
daughter of one Croesus was sup
posed to own a dressing table worth
$65,000 and a pair of bejewelled
opera glasses valued at $75,000.
The nouveau-riche of America
tried to ape all the mannerisms of
foreign millionaires, even to such
things as fox-hunting.
The golden age was extravagant
and wasteful, but it was one of the
most colorful in our nation's history.
Watermelon Not a Native
Many jokes have been made at
the expense of the colored man’s
love for watermelon. As a matter
of fact, the black man was piob
ably eating watermelon long before
the white man ever heard of it.
It is a native of Africa and may
be found growing wild on plains
scuth of the Sahara where t is an
important part of the diet of deer
and antelope of that region. It is
believed the pilgrims brought the
first watermelon seeds to America,
says Pathfinder Magaiine, for in
less than ten years after their com
ing, melons were plentiful in Mas
sachusetts. It found favor with the
Indians at once. By 1665 the Florid*
Indians were cultivating it and tgo
years later tribes of the W^st
When Jim Caught
the Football Fever
By H. LOUIS RAYBOLD
© McClure Newspaper Syndicate.
WNU Service.
*‘p\ON’T they look thrilling!”
and Leila flourished a pair
of pasteboard slips in front of Sue’s
brown eyes. “Oh, I forgot,” she
added, “that Jim doesn't care for
football.”
“Isn’t it the limit?” And this time
the brown eyes blazed. “When one
is a football fan of the first mag
nitude, and has been reared on foot
ball with one’s brother a coach, to
have a fiance, otherwise perfectly
heavenly, who rates football a
bore!”
“It is hard,” sympathized Leila,
“and if I were you, I should cure
him or die in the attempt. What
does he suppose football weather
was made for?”
The subject was dropped for the
time being, but Leila’s assertion
that Jim should be cured occurred
to Sue later and she pondered just
what drastic means she could em
ploy to bring about so desirable a
reform.
She wondered if brother William,
now married and running a hard
ware store in Rawlinsville, but still
acting as a coach on the side for
the Rawlins eleven, could help her
out. Certainly he was worth a try.
So that evening she wrote and
posted a bulky letter whose post
script ran: “Above all we must ap
proach him indirectly. Jim is canny
enough to shy completely if he sus
pects.”
Brother William’s reply must have
been all Sue hoped, for the evening
of its arrivul she began her attack
on Jim.
“Do you know, dear,” she said
plaintively. "I'm rather worn out
after the summer. I have half a
mind during your vacation to run
up to Will's and rest. You'll be go
ing off somewhere and I wouldn’t
see much of you anyway."
Jim — tall, broad - shouldered,
clean-cut — regarded her quizzi
cally. "What made you think I was
going anywhere?”
"Oh, you’ll want to,” said Sue
airily, “you need a change also. It
will only be for about a couple of
weeks.”
“Well—” said Jim. “I had
thought perhaps we’d do a little
house hunting and furniture buying,
but if you'd rather—”
Sue had visited her brother ex
actly three days when Jim’s tele
gram arrived, followed shortly by
its sender, who paused a brief mo
ment at the College Inn to deposit
his baggage and then hastened to
Sue who greeted him with concealed
triumph. Indirection had worked
thus far.
The following morning, after
breakfast (William had collected
Jim and his belongings from the
inn) Sue remarked that she had
letters to write and could not give
Jim any company until luncheon.
Perhaps Jim could amuse himself
for a time.
“I'll look after him,” broke in
William. “Have a bunch of would
bes to try out. Jim will look them
over with me.”
Jim acquiesced agreeably, al
though no doubt secretly wondering
just what would-bes were in terms
of hardware. Surreptitiously, Sue
winked at her brother. Things had
begun to move.
The two men did not show up
until lunch was cold and Sue could
not help but notice that Jim seemed
strangely dusty and dishevelled for
a mere onlooker.
“Got Jim to help me out referee
ing,” said William nonchalantly,
and Sue let it go at that.
The first game of the season was
scheduled for the day prior to Sue’s
intended departure for home. The
time was short and William daily
neglected his hardware affairs to
work up a creditable team. Jim
tagged along also, and to Sue’s
pleased surprise seemed always as
ready as William to get down to the
field.
But not until the day of the game
itself did any word of football pass
between Sue and Jim. Then, “I’d
like,” she said hesitatingly, “to go
to the game this afternoon, if you
could possibly find something to oc
cupy you.”
“Go to the game? Something to
occupy me?” echoed Jim, staring
blankly.
“Of course, you’re going to the
game. I’m only sorry I can’t sit
with you, but your brother has
asked me to be the timekeeper. It’s
a great game, Sue. Really, it’s
wonderful.”
Some months later Sue met Leila
and in the course of conversation
football was mentioned.
“I hear,” said Leila, “that Jim
has become an ardent rooter. I sup
pose you are delighted.”
“Well—maybe,” sighed Sue. Then,
at the other’s look of surprise she
v ent on to explain: “You see, I
always wanted Jim to get interested
so that we could go to the games
together. But—do we? Quite the con
trary. Why Jim is so keen that
I’m a mere amateur beside him. As
for sitting in a regular seat—noth
ing doing. He knows all the coaches
and nothing but the side lines will
do for him.”
“You brought it on yourself,” re
minded Leila meanly.
“Oh, yes,” acknowledged Sue,
“But —” and she grinned, “I didn’t
know that football was like the
measles — the older you are, the
harder they hit youl”
Lots of Variety in
Crocheted Edgings
Pattern 1300
Wonderfully dainty edgings, the
laciest of borders, can roll off
your crochet hook if you have pat
tern 1300. You can crochet an in
expensive bit of dress-up for col
lar and cuff set, lingerie, hankies,
towels, sheets, cases and napkins.
The top edging simulates tatting
but is easier and quicker to do.
Even a beginner will find this pat
tern simple to follow. Pattern 1300
contains detailed directions for
making the edgings shown; illus
trations of them and of all stitches
used; material requirements.
Send 15 cents in stamps or coins
(coins preferred) for this pattern
to The Sewing Circle, Needlecraft
Dept., 82 Eighth Ave., New York,
N. Y.
Write plainly pattern number,
your name and address.
Vital Alteration
Dean Inge tells a story of how,
when the Oxford prayer books
were being printed, mischievous
undergraduates altered the mar
riage services to make “as long as
ye both shall live" into “as long
as ye both shall like.”—London
Answers.
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