MYr FRIEND ’’
FLICKA
O’HARA
THE STORY SO FA*. Ten-year-old
Ken McLaughlin cab ride any horse on
Mi family's Wyoming ranch, hot he
wants a colt of hii own. His father, a
retired army officer, refuses to jive him
one tuitil his school grades improve and
Mi learns to take responsibility. Ken’s
mother tries to protect him from the
■tern discipline of his fathrr and the
youthful bullying of his older brother,
■oward, who always manages to do
tMngs right. When Captain McLaughlin
learns that Ken has not been promoted
be orders him to study instead of joining
the roundup. But when Ken Is through
be dashes out to watch the horses come
In and accidentally stampedes them.
Now continue with the story.
CHAPTER HI
Even before he opened his eyes
next morning Ken knew that some
thing was wrong, and he pushed
away the moment of complete awak
ening. He lay facing the window
.and saw that the pines on the hill
'were quiet. No wind today.
Then he remembered. He had
stampeded the mares.
He had a feeling that it was late.
For some time he had been half
hearing all the early morning
noises.
He slipped out of bed and went
to the window, hitching up his pa
tjamas. Howard was on the terrace
• right underneath, and Ken could see
the top of his head, black and
smooth, with the part exactly in the
: center. He had on blue Jeans, and
a clean chambray shirt and a red
'bandana.
Howard looked up. “HI."
j Ken faded back into the room and
hastily began to dress,
i The smell of coffee filled the
house.
Howard watched his sprinkler,
moving it, little by little, down the
terrace, and planned his day. Ken
would be all right now, he thought,
he was never hard to manage—they
might have fun in the swimming
pool—or go shooting—
"Breakfast!” sang out Nell's
voice. She ran out onto the terrace.
She had on a green dress with a zip
per all the way down the front and
a sash across the back. She clapped
her hands and yelled for them to
come, and Rob dropped his shovel
and ran at her, and Ken stopped
tying his necktie to watch.
They’d gone in. Ken hurried to
finish but he hated to go down, he
felt so out of things. On the way
downstairs he stopped before the pic
ture of the duck. It was a big
black duck with white breast and
legs and white bars on his wings.
He was fierce and handsome stand
ing on his rock.
At the breakfast table his father
was waiting to hear Ken clatter the
rest of the way downstairs.
"I bet he’s looking at the duck,”
said Howard.
"What duck?”
"On the landing. He looks at it
for an hour sometimes."
"Howard," reproved Nell, “he
never looks at it for an hour.”
“Well, a long time—seems like an
hour.”
McLaughlin’s voice was rising.
"What duck on the landing?”
“My Audubon print,” explained
Nell quickly. "The one that hangs
under the clock. Ken likes to look
at it”
“Ken!” roared his father; and
hastily Ken’s sturdy shoes clattered
the rest of the way down the stairs,
and he came into the kitchen, his
hair meticulously parted and slicked
down, and his face sullen.
“What did you stop on the landing
for?”
Ken opened his napkin and looked
down, embarrassed. "I was looking
at the duck.”
‘The duck! Out the window?”
“The duck in the picture there."
There was a little amused glint
in Nell's eyes as she helped Ken to
oatmeal.
"Didn’t you know we were at
breakfast?”
"I—I—”
"Didn’t think,” finished his father
for him.
Ken didn't look up or make any
reply. He had known it would be
like this. He poured cream on his
oatmeal and reached for the brown
sugar.
"Ken," said his father, “I’m go
jing to take back an order I gave
jyou yesterday. I'm going to remit
' your hour of study.”
Ken looked at his father in aston
ishment—his mouth opening in re
lief and pleasure.
"I’ve got other plans for you this
summer,” McLaughlin continued
pompously, and Nell tucked her face
down to hide her smile.
"And,” continued Rob blandly,
‘Tm going to give you a colt."
Ken shot out of his chair. Spoon
and dishes went clattering.
“A—a—spring colt. Dad? Or a
yearling?”
McLaughlin was taken aback, but
Nell dropped her eyes again. If Ken
got a yearling colt, he’d be even up
with Howard.
"A yearling colt, your father
means. Kennie,” she said smoothly.
Ken gathered up the china and
silver he had scattered, replaced
them and sat down again. Color had
rushed to his face.
“I’ll give it to you a week from
today." said his father. “Between
now and then you can look them
over and make your choice."
"I can have any yearling colt on
the ranch that I want?” asked Ken.
His father nodded calmly, pushed
his chair back and took out his pipe.
Speechless. Ken turned to look at
Howard and the two boys eyed each
other.
Even up, at last.
“Does it have to be a yearling
colt. Dad?” asked Howard. “Could
it be a spring colt if he'd rather
have a spring colt?"
“It could be anything foaled on
the ranch since a year ago,” said
McLaughlin. “There are eighteen
yearlings. So far, thirteen or four
teen new colts; a few to come yet."
“Will you take a yearling or a
spring colt, Ken?" asked Howard.
In answer, Ken turned upon How
ard an exaggerated pitying sneer,
copied from the movies, and mas
tered only after much practice.
But his father asked the same
thing. “Yearling or spring colt,
Ken?"
Ken answered, "A yearling."
"Horse or filly?"
This stopped him. His eyes lost
focus as mental images crowded.
Rocket was a mare. But there was
Banner. And the Albino, mustang
hero. There emerged from the con
fusion a definite sense of the su
periority of the male.
"1’H take a horse colt.” His voice
was final and authoritative. An im
perceptible glance passed between
Nell and her husband.
McLaughlin said, "That narrows
it down. Let's see—how many horse
colts were foaled last year?"
“Ten fillies and eight horse colts,"
said Howard. “You’ve got eight
horse colts to choose from, Ken.”
Things were moving very fast for
Ken, horses crowding him—
“Which were they?” said Nell.
"I’ve got them all down in the Stud
"A—a—spring coll, Dad?”
Book. I left it up at the stables the
other day, in the tack room. Ken,
run up and get it, and we'll look
over the list.”
•‘I’ll go too,” said Howard, sliding
out of his chair; and both boys
rushed out the door,
Ken tore ahead. A colt—a coltl
His own!
His mind was full of images. A
little foal just born, almost knocked
down by its mother’s tongue licking
it . , . Banner rearing, his great
forefeet beating the air, his big light
belly, his fierce face and arching
neck—a little yearling running . . .
a black ... a chestnut ... his colt
was all of them . . .
He dropped his head back and
yelled; he pranced and galloped.
Howard caught up with him and
said, "You crazy!"
"My colt, my colt,” sang Ken He
ran in a circle, pacing, racking. He
stuck his elbows out, said, "Whoa,
there! Hi!" He tossed his head and
shook his mane.
“You goofy!” exclaimed Howard,
watching him.
Ken rushed at him with fists up.
Howard fell into position and they
sparred. Ken didn't care what hap
pened to him. His arms went like
flails. Howard blocked his blows eas
ily.
Ken broke out of it and went fly
ing up to the stable. He had a sharp
consciousness of change and new im
portance. Things had begun at last.
Things could be real now.
They found the Stud Book and ran
back with it.
As Nell read out the list of year
lings and the names of their dams
Ken began to feel queer. These
were definite flesh and blood ani
mals; named, described, tagged, in
a book; not the colts that had kicked
their heels and played and tossed
their manes in his dreams. He
felt the sense of loss which every
dreamer feels when the dream
moves up, comes close, and at last
is concrete.
"I haven't named them all," Nell
was saying. "There were some I
never saw. They had run off some
where when I went up ou Twenty
to look them over and put them in
the book.
‘The bronc bunch,” grunted Mc
Laughlin, referring to the progeny
of the Albino. “They’re always miss
ing when they’re wanted.”
“Ken and I trained four of these
yearlings ourselves,” said Howard.
Every summer the two boys had
the job of handling and halter-break
ing four of the spring colts.
"The colts the boys trained last
summer were Doughboy and Col
lege Boy and Lassie and Firefly,”
said Nell, studying the book. “Two
horse colts and two Allies.”
“Say, Ken,” said Howard eagerly,
"why don’t you take Doughboy? He
was one of yours. And when he
grows up he'll be sort of twins with
mine, in his name anyway. Dough
boy, Highboy, see?”
But Ken looked scornful. Dough
boy would never have half High
boy’s speed. Last summer Mc
Laughlin, looking over the colts, had
said, "He’s a chunk. We’ll name
him Doughboy. He might turn out
a heavy hunter. Look at the big
legs on him!”
"Lassie then,” suggested Howard
again. "If you want speed. She’s
fast as anything, and she's black as
ink. Like Highboy.”
"I said I was going to take a
horse,” said Ken. "Besides, Dad
said Lassie'll never go over fifteen
hands."
"Remember one thing, Ken,” said
McLaughlin. "You can’t tell much
about a colt when it’s new-born, and
not always much more when it’s a
yearling. Blood’s the thing. The
prepotency of blood—”
They had heard this term often,
for whenever McLaughlin got talk
ing about horses he used it.
"That’s the trouble with this stuff
I’ve got from the Albino. He had
prepotency. That devil passed on
his traits. They don’t wear out.
Must have had some magnificent
blood strains somewhere in his an
cestry. Arab probably. Put enough
Arab blood into a line and it gives
prepotency—to the traits you don't
want as well as to those you do.
Lots of Arab blood in these western
mustangs. Comes from the Arab
and Barb horses the Spaniards
brought over—” McLaughlin got up,
went to the shelf beside the spice
closet, and took down one of his
favorite books on the genealogy of
the American horse. He turned the
pages, looking for a passage.
Howard suddenly Jerked his head
back, listening. "Car coming.” They
all became motionless and heard the
car rattle over the cattle guard at
the Home Pasture Fence, come up
the low hill behind the house in sec
ond gear, then whizz past The boys
darted to the window at the back of
the house and saw the rear of the
car as it vanished over the crest of
the hill on its way to the stables.
"A dusty black car,” announced
Howard, returning.
McLaughlin closed his book.
"Might be Doc,” he said.
"To geld the two-year-olds?”
asked Nell.
“Yes. Howard, run up to the sta
bles and see if that was Dr. Hicks.”
As Howard left the room, Ken
asked, “Can I watch, Dad?”
Nell caught her husband's eye and
he did not answer.
“Run up to my room and get me
a handkerchief, will you Ken?" she
said. “Right hand corner, top bu
reau drawer—”
When Ken had gone she said,
“Rob, don't let them see the geld
ing.”
“They might as well," said Rob.
“They have to know, sooner or lat
er."
“They know already. But, so far,
they’ve never actually seen it.
You've always had it done before
they got home from school.”
“Won’t hurt ’em."
Ken returned and handed his moth
er the handkerchief. Howard ar
rived almost at the same moment
at the back door.
“It's Doc Hicks, Dad, and his as
sistant.”
“I thought so. Run and tell Gus
to light a fire up there, and get some
water boiling.”
“He's already up there. He's got
the Are lit.”
He was about to dash away again,
but Nell called him back.
“Sit down and finish your break
fast,” said she. "You too, Ken.
You've hardly eaten a thing.”
The boys finished hastily.
Gus appeared at the door. “If
we cude have an old sheet for clean
rags. Missus.”
Nell brought an old sheet, clean
and folded, from the linen closet.
Ken finished eating, wiped his
mouth, said “Excuse me, please,"
and darted after Gus as he left the
room.
"Dad’s given me a colt, Gus—any
colt on the ranch up to a year old—'"
Howard finished and ran after
them.
Nell sighed as she rose to clear
the table. "A bloody day. 1 hope
they get through all right"
Rob did not answer. He wasn’t
looking at her. Suddenly he laughed.
“I’ll take a horse colt. Did you hear
the voice on him when he said that?
He’s never talked or looked like that
in his life before." He pushed his
chair back and got up. "Now, if he
just picks a good one—” He went
to the door and hurried out.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
I
Released by Western Newspaper Union.
RHEUMATIC FEVER
»or many years what are called
the salicylates have been the regu
| lar or routine treatment for rheuma
tism. The salicylate most used is
Dr. Barton
acetylsalicylic acid,
which gets different
names from various
drug manufacturers
in the United States
and Creat Britain.
What has been
known by some phy
sicians but has not
been put into use to
any extent, is that
acetylsalicylic acid
used when attacks
of sore throat occur,
may actually pre
vent attacks of rheumatism. The
“preventive” treatment of rheuma
tism used by some physicians is to
have the patient move to a dry
warm climate, or by use of large
and continued doses of sulfanila
mide.
Now, every patient cannot move
to a dry warm climate and main
taining a high level of sulfanilamide
is not advisable in some cases. In
discussing the natural drawbacks of
these two methods of preventing at
tacks of rheumatism, Drs. A. F. Co
burn and L. V. Moore, in the Journal
of Pediatrics (children's diseases)
state that the acetylsalicylic is safe
and effective/ind should be given a
trial at the beginning of any infec
tion of nose and throat. A study
of a group of rheumatic children
exposed to the common nose and
throat and chest infections is re
ported.
A daily dose of 60 to 90 grains of
acetylsalicylic acid, depending on
size of the patient, was given at
first sign of sore throat (pharyn
gitis) where examination of organ
isms in the throat were the kind
that cause rheumatism. This treat
ment was continued for one month.
Forty-seven young rheumatic pa
tients received this “preventive”
treatment and only one developed
rheumatic fever. Of 139 rheumatic
patients who were not given this
treatment, 57 developed rheumatic
fever and 82 did not. These figures
tell their own story; only one of the
47 who took the treatment developed
rheumatic fever, that is about 2 per
cent, and of the 139 who did not
take this treatment, 57 developed
rheumatic fever, that is more than
40 per cent.
. - i
Gaining in Fight
Against Epilepsy
A few years ago I had the feeling
that if I had the time and the pa
tience necessary I would like to try
to investigate the cause of epilepsy
and try to give these patients and
their families relief from this dis
tressing ailment. At that time the
treatment was careful dieting and
the use of bromides to quiet the pa
tient. The bromides did quiet the
patient and did give considerable
help in cutting down the number of
attacks or making them lighter.
I believed that eating certain foods
had something to do with epilepsy
because I had been able to keep one
patient free of attacks for over a
year by washing out his stomach
twice a week.
Then came the knowledge that cut
ting down on starch foods, eating
more fat foods, and the use of the
barbital drugs would keep the ma
jority of epileptics practically free
of attacks.
Still later came the use of dilantin
sodium to replace the barbital drugs,
and, despite the fact that some phy
sicians report serious reactions from
dilantin sodium in some cases, it
would appear that dilantin sodium is
now favored by physicians treating
epileptics.
In a special clinical article in the
Journal of the American Medical As
sociation, Dr. William G. Lennox,
Boston, author of Science and Sei
zures, states that "so rapid has been
the increase of knowledge of epilepsy
in the last 10 years that patients
and even many physicians have been
left far behind.” The three fields of
investigation in which Dr. Lennox
and his associates have been espe
cially interested are electroencepha
lography—electrical brain waves—
heredity, and drug treatment.
Study of the electrical pulsations
(waves) of the brain have helped
locate the starting point of epileptic
attacks and in giving advice regard
ing marriage and children. The pat
tern of the brain wave is believed
to be a heredity tendency. Epilepsy
is not inherited, please understand,
but a predisposition to epilepsy is
' inherited.
HEALTH BRIEFS
Q.—Should I give up wrestling be
cause of a heart murmur?
A.—You don’t need to worry about
your heart, as a murmur is not im
portant unless you get out of breath
easily and your heart is enlarged.
If you will go to a heart specialist
and get an electrocardiogram and
X-ray (fluoroscope), you’ll find out
exactly the condition of your heart.
If it is O. K. take the specialist’s
certificate to army examining offi
cer.
STAGE SCREEN RADIO
By VIRGINIA VALE
Released by Western Newspaper Union.
SEVEN years ago the
Gumms sisters broke up
their vaudeville act to follow
separate paths. Now they’re
back together again, working
for Metro. The eldest, Sue,
joined the fan mail depart
ment when her army husband
was sent far away. The sec
ond, Jimmie, became a script girl.
The youngest shot right to the top
as an actress. She’s Judy Garland,
and her latest picture, “Presenting
Lily Mars,” gives her a chance to
use all the talents that have made
her so popular.
-*
Harriet Hilliard has to stand for
the goings-on of Red Skelton’s "Ju
nior” on the air’s "Red Skelton and
Company”—but just let her own
young sons try to cut such capers!
HARRIET HILLIARD
Nearly two years ago she dismissed
their nurse, and now David, 6V£, and
Eric, 2V4, are brought up by Mama.
“I think well-raised children are
the most important things in the
world," says she.
Tommy Dix, who makes his
screen debut in Metro’s “Best Foot
Forward,” has been signed to a long
term contract. He’s the lad who
wrote the March of Dimes song for
President Roosevelt’s birthday party.
-^
You’ll see the most famous night
spots of the past and present in
Columbia’s “Cover Girl,” which
stars Rita Hayworth and features
the 15 outstanding magazine cover
girls of the country. For the Gay
Nineties scenes, Director Lionel
Banks has completed models of Rec
tor’s, Tony Pastor’s Music Hall and
the old Madison Square Roof Gar
den. For present-day sequences, an
exact replica of New York’s Stork
Club is being built. The cover girls
are all successful New York models.
-*
Thej’re learning their ABC’s the
hard way, those 27 Hollywood young
sters, aged from four to seven, who
appear in “Russia” with Robert
Taylor. They have to recite the al
phabet, not in English, but in Rus
sian! As some of them don’t know
it in English yet, that makes things
a bit difficult, especially as there
are six more letters in the Russian
one than in the English.
When Gerard Darrow appears for
the "Quiz Kids” broadcasts there’s
suspense till the cast learns what
livestock he’s brought with him.
Recently he showed up with a
hamster, sent him by a Philadelphia
fan. A hamster is of the mouse
family, but lives like a gopher. “1
should have called him Hitler, 1
guess,” said Gerard, “as long as
he’s a European rodent.”
\l/
A dream will come true for Dinah
Shore this summer when she sings
in the famous Hollywood Bowl dur
ing its summer concert series. She
has been successful in other fields
of musical endeavor, but she won’t
be happv until she sings in the Bowl.
-&
Barry Wood, radio's singing star,
lives on a Connecticut farm where
1,500 chickens are being raised. But
not content with that, he recently
bought an old distillery in the neigh
borhood, and is converting it into a
home for 5,000 Barred Rocks and
Plymouth Rocks. With this promis
ing start, Wood expects before long
to be one of the major chicken rais
ers of southern New England.
-*
Amazonian Hope Emerson got a
lucky break when Jimmy Durante
gave her a nickname the first time
they appeared together on the pro
gram he does with Garry Moore
Thursdays on NBC. He nicknamed
her “Miss Bongshook”—and the next
day the phone calls began pouring
in, offering her engagements on oth
er shows. She says she used to be
a blacksmith, but she doesn’t look it.
-*
ODDS AND END—Eddie—“Roches
ter”—Anderson has a business interest
outside of movies and radio; the com
pany he heads makes parachutes . . .
They handcuffed George Sanders the
other day for a scene in “Appointment
in Berlin”—and then spent tivo hours
trying to get the handcuffs off ... It’s
the wardrobe woman who watches Ann
Miller dance most anxiously in “If hat’s
Buzzin’ Cousin?"; .Ann’s wearing pre
1 cious opera-length nylons . . . Robert
| Sterling's been elected Cadet Major of
his flying class at Thunderbird Field,
Phoenix, Ariz. . . . Shirley Booth of ra
j dio's “Duffy’s” will appear in the movie
version of the show.
A TISKET, a tasket, a basket
ful of fresh spring flowers—all
ready to “plant” on your bed lin
ens and dresser scarfs. Flower
garlands and prim little nosegays
are also included in the large vari
ety of gay embroidery motifs.
• • •
Pattern 7486 contains a transfer pattern
of 14 motifs ranging from 93,i by 3% to
5\i by 3>,i inches; stitches.
Safety First
The burly truck driver leaned
out of his cab and soundly abused
the young man in the stalled car.
The girl stood it as long as she
could.
“Jack, surely you’re going to
say something to that surly lout,”
she said at last.
“You bet I am,” replied her
companion. “Just wait until I get
the car started.”
No Saving
“My, what beautiful hands you've got!
Tell me, after you've cut your nails, do
you file them?” asked a chorus girl.
“Oh, no,” replied her typist friend, “I
throw them away.”
Hadn’t Mr.
She was peeved and called him
Mr.
Not because he went and kr.
But because before
She opened the door
This same Mr. kr. sr.
Shuffled Up
Mrs. Green — Dinah, did you
change the table napkins?
Dinah—Yes’m, I shuffled 'em
and dealt ’em out so’s no one would
get the same one they had for the
last meal.
“It’s silly,” said the philosopher,
“to say women are as young as
they look. They can’t all be under
thirty.”
There’s a Doubt
“I see by the paper that half
the population of the world is fe
male.”
“I don’t believe it. If it’s true,
how do you account for the fact
that one-half of the world doesn’t
know how the other half lives?”
Due to an unusually large demand and
current war conditions, slightly more time
is required in filling orders for a few of
the most popular pattern numbers.
Send your order to:
Sewing Circle Needleeraft Dept.
82 Eighth Ave. New York
Enclose 15 cents (plus one cent to
cover cost of mailing) for Pattern
No.
Name...
Address ..
Uncle Phil
VOU can’t make footprints in the
1 sands of time by sitting down.
“Vision’' is what some people think
they have when they guess correctly.
Most of us say that money will
not bring happiness. Then we
draw a long breath and begin
chasing after money again.
A go-getter is a person willing
to try anything twice.
The darkest hour is never more
than 60 minutes.
What some motorists don’t know about
driving would fill a hospital.
Practice makes perfect—if you
practice what you preach.
Capt. Kidd Not Ruthless
Pirate but Virtuous Soul
Captain Kidd, whose name for
centuries symbolized vicious and
ruthless piracy, never was a pi
rate. He actually was a brave
and patriotic English sea-captain
of the 17th century who, through
villainous intrigue and circum
stances, was hanged with six of
his confederates.
They were hanged along the
muddy banks of the Thames river
and for many years their skeletons
were left to creak and swing in
the wind as a warning to passing
seamen against piracy.
When the word went out that
soldiers overseas wanted pack
ages from home—the response was
so overwhelming that Uncle Sam
reluctantly had to call a halt. To
day, due to shipping space, there
are Post Office restrictions on
packages to overseas Army men—
but you can still send packages
to soldiers in the U. S., and to
Sailors, Marines, and Coast
Guardsmen wherever they are.
When you do, remember—one of
their favorite gifts is cigarettes,
and the favorite brand is Camel.
Sales records in Post Exchanges
and Canteens show that Camel
is first choice with men in all the
services. So send him that carton
of Camels today.—Adv.
MEAT PATTIES WITH
ALL-BRAN MAKE
MEAT GO FURTHER
Are you looking for ways to "stretch
the meat supply”? Then try this won
derful recipe for All-Bran Meat Pat
ties! They are made with famous
kellogg’s all-bran—which adds a de
licious crunchy texture to the dish
with all the valuable vitamins, min
erals, proteins and carbohydrates or
dinarily found in all-bran.
Kellogg's All-Bran Meat Patties
1 egg
2 teaspoons salt
34 teaspoon pepper
2 tablespoons
minced onion
1 tablespoon
chopped parsley I
1 cup milk
% cup catsup
1 cup Kellogg's
All-Bran
1 pound ground beef
Beat egg slightly, add salt, pepper,
onion, parsley, milk, catsup and
All-Bran. Let soak until most of mois
ture is taken up. Add beef and mix
thoroughly. Shape into 12 patties.
Bake in hot oven (450°F.) about 30
minutes or broil about 20 minutes.
Yield: 6 servings (12 2% inch patties).
HOUSEWIVES:
Your Waste Kitchen Fata
Are Needed for Exploaivea
TURN ’EM IN!
NOW
in
No Waste, Now
...in war-time baking
Full baking effectiveness, now, in
•very ounce of Clabber Girl Baking
Powder, in every ounce of each bak
ing ingredient... That’s the war-tint*
guarantee of Clabber Girl’s
new, improved, moisture-proof
container ... In all sizes a*
your grocer’s.