Image provided by: University of Nebraska-Lincoln Libraries, Lincoln, NE
About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (June 1, 1939)
The DIM LANTERN By TEMPLE BAILEY —=— O PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY —WNU SERVICE THE STORY THUS FAR Young, pretty Jane Barnes, who lived with her brother. Baldwin, In Sher wood Park, near Washington, was not particularly impressed when she read that rich, attractive Edith Towne had been left at the altar by Delafleld Simms, wealthy New Yorker. However, she still mused over it when she met Evans Follette, a young neighbor, whom the war had left completely discouraged and despondent. Evans had always loved Jane. That morning Baldwin Barnes, on his way to work in Washington, offered assistance to a tall, lovely girl tn distress. Later he found a bag she had left in the car, containing a diamond ring on i which was inscribed "Del to Edith—Forever." He knew then that his passenger ^ had been Edith Towne. Already he was half in love with her. That night he discussed the matter with Jane, and they called her uncle, worldly, sophisticated Frederick Towne. He visited them at their home, delighted with Jane's sim plicity. He told them Edith's story. Because her uncle desired it. Edith Towne had accepted Delafleld Simms, whom she liked but did not love. She disappeared Immediately after the wedding was to have taken place. The next day Jane received a basket of fruit from Towne, and a note ashing if he might call again. Mrs. Follette, widowed mother of Evans, was a woman of indomitable courage. Impoverished, she nevertheless managed to keep Evans and herself in compara tive comfort by running a dairy farm. Evans, mentally depressed and dis illusioned, had little self reliance and looked to his mother and Jane for guid ance. Edith Towne phones Baldy in answer to an ad. She asked him to bring her pocketbook. Jane calls on Frederick Towne in his elaborate office. He gives Lucy, his stenographer, a letter to Delafleld Simms, in which he severely criti cizes him. Unknown to him, Lucy and Simms are in love with each other. Towne takes Jane home in his limousine. She introduces him to Evans, who is Jealous of Towne. Baldy goes to meet Edith Towne at her hiding place. He convinces her that she should return home and face her friends. She is inter ested in Baldy. Later they eat in a restaurant, where Edith sees several friends. She knows they will see to it that the news is spread. CHAPTER VI—Continued —10— On this same afternoon little Lucy Logan was writing to Delafleld Simms. “It seems like a dream, lover, that you are to come for me in Feb ruary, and that then we’ll be mar ried. And that all the rest of my life I am to belong to you. “Del, it isn’t because you are rich. «f course I shall adore ♦he things ou can do for me. 1 am not going to pretend that I shan’t. But if you were poor, I'd work for you—live for you. Oh, Del, I do hope that you will believe it. “The other day, Mr. Towne said In one of his letters that you had always been fickle, that there had been lots of girls, Eloise Harper before Edith. And I wanted to scream right out and say, ‘It isn’t true. He hasn’t ever really cared before this.’ But of course I couldn’t. But I broke a pencil point, and as for Mr. Towne, who is he to say such things about you? I haven’t tak en his letters for the last three years for nothing. There’s always somebody—the last one was Mrs. Laramore, and now he has his eye on a little Jane Barnes, whose broth er found Miss Towne’s bag and the ring. She’s rather a darling, but (I hope she won’t think he is in earnest. ♦ “And now, my dear and my dar ling, good-night. I wonder how I dare call you that. But I am al ways saying it to myself, and at night I ask God to keep you—safe.” CHAPTER VII Jane, in Baldy’s absence, dined on Sunday with the Follettes, in the middle of the day. In the after noon she and Evans went for a walk, and came home to tea in the library. Stretched in a long leather chair, Evans read to Jane and his moth er “The Eve of St. Agnes.” At the moment, Mrs. Follette was weighing seriously the fact of Jane as a wife for Evans. She was pretty as well as cheerful. Had good man ners. Of course, in the old days, Evans would, inevitably, have looked higher. There had been plenty of rich girls eager to attract him. He had had unlimited invita tions. Women had, in fact, quite run after him. Florence Preston had rather made a fool of herself. And Florence’s father had millions. But now—? Mrs. Follette knew how little Evans had at the moment to offer. She hated to admit it, but the truth was evident. Watching the two young people, she decided that should Evans care for Jane, she would erect no barriers. As for Jane, marriage with Evans would be, in a way, a rise in the world. She would live at Castle Manor in stead of at Sherwood Park. It was after five when Baldy tele phoned triumphantly: “Jane, Edith Towne has agreed to go home to night. And I’m to take her. I called up Mr. Towne and told him and he wants you to be there when we come. He’ll send Briggs for you and we are all to have dinner to gether.” “But, Baldy, I don’t know Edith Towne. Why doesn’t he ask some of her own friends?” “She doesn’t want ’em. Hates them all, and anyhow he has asked you. Why worry?” “I’ll have to go home and dress.” “Well, you’re to let him know at once where Briggs can get you. I told him you were at the Follettes’.” Jane went back and repeated the conversation to Evans and his moth er. Mrs. Follette was much inter ested. The Townes were most im portant people. “How nice for you, Jane.” But Evans disagreed with her. “What makes you say that, Mother? It isn’t nice. It will simply be up setting.” “I don’t see why you say that, Evans,” Jane argued. “I am not easily upset.” “But with all that money. You can’t keep up with them.” “Don’t put ideas into Jane’s head,” his mother remonstrated; "a lady is always a lady.” But Jane sided now with Evans. "I see what he means, Mrs. Fol lette. I haven’t the clothes. I haven’t a thing to wear tonight.” "Oh, I wasn’t thinking of your looks.” Evans got up and stood on the hearth-rug. “But people like that! Jane, I wish you wouldn’t go.” She looked up at him with her chin tilted. “I don’t see how I can refuse.” “Of course she can’t. Evans, don’t be so unreasonable,” Mrs. Fol lette interposed; "it will be a won derful thing for Jane to know Edith.” “Will it be such a wonderful thing for her to know Frederick Towne?” He flung it at them. Jane demanded, “Don’t you want me to have any good times?” He stared at her for a moment, and when he spoke it was in a dif And he was just a ghost in a fog. ferent tone. “Yes, of course. I beg your pardon, Janey.” Mrs. Follette, having effaced her self for the moment from the con versation, decided that things be tween her son and little Jane Barnes might reach a climax at any mo ment. “I believe he’s half in love with her,” she told herself in some bewilderment. As for Frederick Towne, she didn’t consider him for a moment. Jane was a pretty child. But Fred erick Towne could have his pick of women. There would be nothing se rious in this friendship with Jane. Jane called up Towne. “It was good of you to ask me,” she said. “I am at the Follettes’, but I’ll go home and dress and Briggs can come for me there.” “Come as you are.” “You wouldn’t say that if you could see me. I took a walk with Evans this afternoon and I show the effects of it.” “Evans? Oh, Casabianca?” “What makes you call him that?” "I thought of it when I saw him waiting for you at the top of the terrace. ‘The boy stood on the burn ing deck—’ ” he laughed. “I don’t think that’s funny at all,” said Jane, frankly. “Don’t you? Well, I beg your par don. I’ll beg it again when I get you here. Briggs will reach Sher wood at about seven. I would drive out myself, but I’ve an awful cold, and the doctor tells me I must stay in. And Cousin Annabel is sick in bed with a cold, so you must take pity on me and keep me company.” Jane hung up the receiver. It would, she decided, be an exciting adventure. But she was not sure that she liked Frederick Towne . . . Evans walked home with her. The air was warmer than it had been for days, and faint mists had risen. The mist thickened finally to a fog which rolled over them as if blown from the high seas. Yet the sea was miles away, and the fog was born in the rivers and streams, and in the melting snows. They found it somewhat difficult to keep to the road. They were al most smothered in the thick gray masses. Their voices had a muffled sound. Evans' hand was on Jane’s arm so that they might keep to gether. “Jane,” he said, "I made a fool of myself about Towne. But hon estly—I was afraid—" ’’Of what?” "That he might fall in love with you—” "He’s not thinking of me, Evans, and besides he’s too old—” "Do you really feel that way about it, Jane?” "Of course—silly.” He could not see her face—but the words in her laughing lovely voice gave him a sense of reassurance. “Janey,” he said, "if I could only have you like this always. Shut away from the world.” “But I don’t want to be shut away. I should feel—caged—” "Not if you cared.” There was in his tone the huski ness of intense feeling. She was moved by it. “Oh, I know what you mean. But love won’t come to me like that—shut in. I shall want freedom and sunshine. I’ll be a gull over the sea—a ship in full sail—a gypsy on the road—but I’ll never be a ghost in a fog.” His hand dropped from her arm. "Perhaps you’ll be a princess in a castle. Towne can make you that.” “Why do you keep harping on Mr. Towne? I don’t like it.” Because—on, i tnmK everyooay wants you—” And now it was she who caught at his arm in the mist, and leaned on it. “I’m not the least in love with Frederick Towne. And I shall nev er marry a man I don't love, Ev ans.” When they came to the little house they found old Sophy nodding in the kitchen. She always stayed with Jane when Baldy was away. So Evans said “Good-night” and start ed back. He found the path between the pines, walked a few steps and stum bled. He sat down on the log that had tripped him. He had no wish to go on. His depression was intense. Night was before him and darkness. Loneliness. And Jane would be with Frederick Towne. He had for Jane a feeling of hope less adoration. She would never be his. For how could he try to keep her? “I’ll be a gull over the sea—a ship in full sail—a gypsy on the road—never a ghost in a fog.” And he was just a ghost in a fog! Oh, what was the use of ever "climbing up the climbing wave”? One must have something of hope to live on. A dream or two—ahead. How long he sat there he did not know. And all at once he was aware of a pale blur against the prevailing gloom. And then he heard Jane’s voice calling, “Evans? Ev ans?” He answered and she came up to him. “Your mother telephoned— that you had not come home—and she was worried.” She was holding the lantern up to the length of her arm. In her orange cloak she shone through the veil of mist, luminous. “My dear,” she said, gently, “why are you sitting here?” “Because there isn’t any use in going on.” She lowered the lantern so that it shone on his face. What she saw there frightened her. “Are you feel ing this way because of me?” she asked in a shaking voice. “Because of everything.” “Evans, I won’t go to the Townes if you want me to stay.” He looked up at her as she bent above him with the lantern. She teemed to shine within and with out, like some celestial visitor. “Would you stay, Jane, III want ed It?" "Yes." He stood up. “I don’t want It. Not really. I’m not quite such a selfish pig,” his smile was ghastly. She was silent for a moment, then she said, “I’m going home with you, Evans. Wait until I tell Sophy to send Briggs after me.” He tried to protest, but she was firm. "I'll be back in a minute.” She returned presently, the lan tern in one hand and her slipper bag in the other. "I put on heavier shoes. I should ruin my slippers.” As they trod the path together, the light of the lantern shone in round spots of gold, now in front of them, now behind them. The fog pressed close, but the path was clear. “Evans,” said Jane, “I want you to promise me something,” "Anything, except—not to love you.” ‘‘It has nothing to do with love of me, but it has something to do with love of God.” He knew how hard it was for her to say that. Jane did not speak easily of such things. She went on with some hesitation. Her voice, muffled by the fog, had a muted note of music. ‘‘Evans, you mustn’t let what I do make you or break you. Whether I love you or not, you must go on. You—you couldn’t hold me if you weren’t strong enough, even if I was your wife. And there is strength in you, if you’ll only believe it. Oh, you must believe it, Evans. And you mustn’t make me feel responsible. I can't stand it. To feel all the time that I am hurting—you.” She was sobbing. A little inco herent. “And you are captain of your soul, Evans. You. Not anyone else. I can't be. I can be a help, and oh, I will help all I can. You know that. But—I love you like a big brother— not in any other way. If anything should happen to you, it would be dreadful for me, just as it would be dreadful if anything happened to Baldy.” “Janey, my dear, don’t,” for she was clinging to his arm, crying as if her heart would break. “But I do care for you so much, Evans. I was frantic when your mother telephoned. I wasn't quite dressed and I made Sophy get the lantern, and then I ran down the path, and looked for you.” He stopped and laid his hand on her shoulder. Her weakness, her broken words had roused in him a sudden protective tenderness. “My little girl,” he said, “don’t God helping me, I’m going to get back. And you are going to light my way. Jane, do you know when I saw you coming towards me with that dim lantern it seemed sym bolic. Hope held out to me—seen through a fog, faintly. But a light nevertheless.” “Oh, Evans, if I could love you, I would, you know that.” “I know. You’d tie up the broken wings of every bird. You’d give crutches to the lame, and food to the hungry. And that’s the way you feel about me.” He had let her go now, and they stood apart, shrouded in ghostly white. “God helping me,” he said again, "I’ll get back. That’s a promise, Janey, and here’s my hand upon it.” She gave him her hand. “God helping us both,” she said. He lifted her hand and kissed it Then, in silence, they walked on, until they reached the house. (TO BE CONTINUED) Plates Are Most Sought of the Steel Products i _ Plates of iron or steel are, his torically, the oldest of the industry’s rolled products; commercially, one of the leading tonnage products, and functionally among the most widely used and more indispensable. In an ordinary year, three million or more tons of steel plates are pro duced, says Steel Facts. Major uses include the construction of ships, railroad locomotives and cars, oil tanks, gas holders, water tanks and a variety of other articles essential to modern industry such as floors for bridges and buildings, stand pipes, etc. Plates, sheets and strip steel are all flat rolled products, of different thicknesses and widths, and it is difficult to define exactly where one product stops and the other begins. The two principal classes of plates are sheared and universal, the names deriving from the type of mill on which the plate was rolled. Mills which have only horizontal rolls and produce a plate with un even edges and ends are called sheared plate mills. Products of these mills must be sheared on all four edges to produce a rectangle. Universal mills have in addition to horizontal rolls, at least one pair of vertical rolls so placed as to roll the edges of the plate straight and parallel. Some types of universal mills align plate edges with grooved rolls like the rolls of a bar mill. Regardless of the mill on which they are finally rolled, all plates are rolled from slabs or slab ingots. Slabs, which are a semi-finished product rolled from conventional square or rectangular ingots, are al ways more than twice as wide as they are thick. Slab ingots are cast with their width greater than twice their thickness. Both types of ingot are ‘‘.broken down" by being put through a slab bing mill to reduce their cross-sec tion, after having been heated slow ly and uniformly in soaking pits. This heating operation must be done very carefully in order to prevent excessive scaling, which will injure the surface of the plate, and to in sure proper grain refinement which enhances the ductility of the steel. Only One Note Used in Song A curious and famous song, sel dom heard in recent years, is "The Monotone,” composed by Peter Cor nelius (1824-1874). Throughout the entire song of 42 bars, says Col lier’s Weekly, only one note—G— is used. Ever-Beloved Dotted Swiss Is Stylish for Little Girls By CHERIE NICHOLAS \/fORE and more fine cottons are gaining recognition from the high-style viewpoint. Fashion ex perts predict triumphs galore this coming summer for ginghams, for piques of various types, for cham brays, and because of the empha sis placed on the importance of dainty lingerie effects there is a spe cial rush for the most lovely Swiss sheers, particularly the charming crisp and sprightly cloque organ dies that need little or no ironing, and the delectable shadow prints, and above all the beloved dotted swisses and dotted voiles that seem prettier than ever this year. Everybody is going to dress in attractive cottons most of the time this summer. According to crystal gazers that peer into fashion fu tures, this will be the biggest, the most exciting, the most style-reveal ing year that cottons have ever known. Now for a word of warning to big sister and mother and grandma and all the elder cousins and aunts that plan to wear these beguiling cottons, if they think they are to play the star roles in the cotton parade, just let them wait and see the sensation that the little folks will create in their cunning cottons during the coming months. Time has not dulled the charm of that adored standby, fine dotted Swiss. The right kind of dotted sheers for mothers to buy for their children is the genuine Swiss types, the tied-in dots of which are fast color, making laundering a very simple and absolutely safe proce dure. Just to get a foretaste of how Ir resistible lovely little girls will look in their dotted Swisses and dotted voiles this summer, take a good look at the three models illustrated. Imported dotted Swiss in rose pink makes the charming and practical frock for the winsome little miss to the left. Pin-tucked net and ruf fled lace edging trim the collar, the vestee panel and the puff pockets. A self fabric sash ties in a bow at the back. The ever-popular imported dotted Swiss voile that works up so beauti fully in little girl's frocks, is used for the choice little dress which the member of the young generation centered in the picture is wearing. Fine smocking in bright rose-red decorates the attractively gathered waist. This clever needlework, so gay and so chic, imparts a French air to the simple styling of the frock. Short puffed sleeves and a young round collar are flattering de tails and in excellent taste. The important member of the youngest generation seated to the right in the picture, is wearing a cunningly styied frock made of choice pink Swiss organdy with large white embroidered dots. The wide collar, the short puffed sleeves and the front buttoned closing are edged with white Val lace. This diminutive society queen wears a pink satin hair ribbon to match the little bow at her throat And here’s a final choice bit of news in regard to what fashionable little girls will be wearing this sum mer. It is all about the adorable sheer little shirtwaists styled in the “baby” type such as are sponsored for grown-ups of sheerest batistes and organdies or swisses or voiles. They are lace-trimmed and hand tucked to the queen’s taste. © Western Newspaper Union. - i ■■■■ . " hi "■ —m * New Fabrics Are Heartily Greeted Even the sober-sides and plain Janes among us have a way of rele gating the darker colors and more serviceable fabrics to temporary ob livion, while we revel in the airiness and intoxicating brightness of the cottons and sheers of the merry, mad spring and summer. We caper into our dimity blouses and chambray frocks, and plant the gayest of inverted straw flower pots, with cambric blossoms budding at the wrong end, on our unoffending heads. Then, with a disdainful sniff at the exotic musks and slum brous sandalwoods of our last win ter’s delight, we turn again to the floral scents. Tweed the Thing For Travel Coat If you are going to the New York fair or the San Francisco fair a coat of tweed’s the thing for travel. When it comes to choosing the plaid or the stripe woolen fashion bids you “make it snappy.” Choose just as big and as bold stripes or plaids as you please. You will And a coat of handsome tweed ycur best friend that will prove indispensable on your trip. Old-Fashioned Prints Quaintness, that quality which is being so decisively ravived this year, is finding its way into silk prints, for which patterns suggestive of old-fashioned dimities and cali coes are being introduced. For Happy Packing Traveling necessitates fabrics that take well to packing. Jersey was seemingly ordained for this special function. New Border Print There is a definite trend in favor of border prints. The patternings brought out this season are fasci nating. The dress pictured shows how effectively designers work up these stunning new border prints. Here yellow, rose and light blue flowers are placed on a background of navy blue crepe with flattering results. Skirt, Blouse Still Good In evening wear the blouse and skirt also is as good as ever. Pretty Patterns That Are Oh So Practical! ^?OMEWHAT formal, so that you ^ can wear it smartly for shop ping and runabout, is the wide shouldered dress with buttons down the scalloped bodice and braid used to give the effect of a bolero. The circular skirt has a charming, animated swing to it. In batiste, linen or flat crepe, it’s a dress you’ll thoroughly enjoy all summer long. Indispensable Slacks Suit. If you’re planning to have a lot of outdoor fun this summer (and of course you are) then a slacks suit is an indispensable part of your vacation wardrobe. This one includes a topper with front gath ers that flatter your figure, well cut, slim-hipped slacks, and a bo lero with wide revers that you can wear with daytime frocks, too. Denim, gingham, flannel or gab ardine are practical materials for this. The Patterns. No. 1741 is designed for sizes 14, 16, 18, 20, 40 and 42. Size 16 re quires 4% yards of 35 inch mate rial with nap. Three yards of braid. No. 1750 is designed for sizes 12, 14, 16, 18, 20 and 40. Size 14 re quires 3% yards of 39 inch mate rial for slacks and bolero; % yard for topper. Spring and Summer Pattern Book. Send 15 cents for the Barbara Bell Spring and Summer Pattern Book, which is now ready. Make yourself attractive, practical and becoming clothes, selecting de signs from the Barbara Bell well planned, easy-to-make patterns. Send your order to The Sewing Circle Pattern Dept., Room 1324, 211 W. Wacker Dr., Chicago, 111. Price of patterns, 15 cents (in coins) each. _________ ; Our Education f.OD educates men by casting them upon their own resources. Man learns to swim by being tossed into life’s maelstrom and left to make his way ashore. No youth ran leurn to sail his life-craft in a lake sequestered and sheltered from all storms, where other vessels never come. Skill comes through sailing one’s craft amidst rocks and bars and oppos ing fleets, amidst storms and whirls and counter-currents. Responsibility alone drives man to toil and brings out his best gifts.—Newell Dwight Hillis. OLD FOLKS Hers la Amazing Relief for Conditions Due to Sluggish Bowels 1J(McMtpeda srafittswa freshing. Invigorating. Dependable relief from ■tek headaches, bilious spells, tired feeling when associated with constipation. Uftalwiut Disk get a 25c box of NR from your VYimOUT RISK Snigglst. Make the test—then U not delighted, return the box to us. We will refund the purchase *>**”«£*"" QUICK RELIEF FOR ACID INDIGESTION Love in Common Those who love the arts are all fellow-citizens.—Voltaire. xmoaa mP* kills! Tmany insects I I ON FLOWERS • FRUITS I I VEGETABLES & SHRUBS 1 I Demand original sealed f *.| I You find them announced in the columns of this paper by merchants of our community who do not feel they must keep the quality of their merchan dise or their prices under cover. It is safe to buy of the mer chant who ADVERTISES.