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About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (Aug. 16, 1945)
cybvicVuow I_ GWEN BRISTOW THE STORY THUS FAR: Spratt Her long, motion picture producer, had mar ried Elizabeth after her first husband, Arthur Kittredge, had been reported killed in World War I. Elizabeth had been orphaned when a baby and had been raised by her aunt and uncle In Tulsa, where the met Arthur. Within n year after their marriage be enlisted and soon afterwards was reported killed. Elizabeth moved to Los Angeles, where she met Spratt. When he asked her to marry him, Elizabeth told Spratt all about Ar thur—also stating that part of her died when Arthur died. Spratt, thankint her for her honesty, still insisted and they were married. CHAPTER VIA But she had waked from it. Like Its predecessors, this period of rec ollection had gone as abruptly as it had come. Elizabeth pushed a lock of hair off her forehead and reached for a cigarette. ‘‘What a fool I am," she said, her eyes on the picture of Spratt that was standing on her desk. She had a picture of Arthur packed l away somewhere in the back of a * closet, but it had been years since she had looked at it. She wanted Spratt there, Spratt whom she loved, her children's father. Spratt and her children were what she lived for. They filled up her thoughts—ex cept for these rare minutes of agony, minutes that were more cruel be cause they had to be borne in si lence. She could tell Spratt anything on earth but this. She could mention Arthur to him without self-conscious ness, as she did sometimes—“There was a man like Mr. So-and-so in the company Arthur worked for in Tulsa, one of those pseudo-intellectuals who bought first editions for no reason but to show them off. I remember one day Arthur said he . . .” Just as simply as that. And they would chuckle over Arthur’s wise crack and go on talking. But no matter how seldom they occurred, she could not tell Spratt that there ever did occur such experience* of black anguish as the one she had just passed through. And W'hy in the world should she, Elizabeth asked herself now. It was over, gone completely until the next time, if there ever should be a next time. By tomorrow she would have forgotten it. Already the fact that she had been powerless to escape it was making her ashamed of herself, and glad to ignore such absurdity. The air was growing chilly. The children should have come in from the pool by now, and she hoped they had hung up their suits properly. It was about time she went downstairs and got out the cocktail tray to have it ready when Spratt came in. The telephone ran again, and when she answered it she felt pleasure at the normal steadiness of her voice. Her caller greeted her cheerfully. “This is Irene Stern. Elizabeth. How are you?” "Fine, never better.” “And Spratt?” “Working himself to death and flourishing on it.” “Any news on the picture, or do I dare ask?" "Good news, I hope. Anyway, a new writer who seems to have ideas.” "Anybody I know?" "I don’t think so. He’s just off the boat." "Oh dear. Spikka da Inglis?” "Fairly well, I believe. They’re better at languages than we are.” “They should be, can’t go a hun dred miles over there without need ing a new one. Elizabeth, I called to ask if it’s all right for Brian to stay for dinner with Peter.” "Irene, you’re an angel about that child, but are you sure it’s no trou ble? Brian takes half his meals with you as it is.” "It’s no trouble and I wish you’d let him stay. He and Peter are up-’ stairs getting starry-eyed over a new collection of bugs—Elizabeth, is it really necessary for the Scouts to en courage such a fearful interest in natural history? Peter does nothing these days but mount insects.” "I know, Brian’s room looks like all I've ever heard about delirium tremens. There’s nothing we can do about it.” "It must be a recent craze,” said Irene Stern. “I remember Jimmy—” #he was referring to her older son— ^ Jimmy was an enthusiastic Scout, but he never had this passion for creeping things.” Elizabeth began to laugh. “You’d better send Brian home, Irene. He’ll be a distressing influence on Peter.” “But when they’re mounting bugs together they’re so happy. I can’t bear to separate them. So let him stay for dinner, Elizabeth. We'll bring him home by nine." “All right then, and thank you for being so good to him. It’s been ages since I’ve seen you—I’m going to ring you one day this week for lunch.” “Do. I’d love it." They said goodby and Elizabeth put back the phone. She laughed to herself as she did so. Everything was back where it ought to be. Her friends, her children, the warm se curity of her life. Going over to the desk, she took up Spratt’s pic ture and kissed him through the glass. As she went downstairs she heard a babble of young voices and a sound of laughter. Dick and Cherry had evidently come indoors with their friends, and the four of them were making quite as much noise as might have been expected if they had been greeting one another after year* of separation. “Doesn’t their energy ever give out?” Elizabeth asked herself with fond wonder as she heard them. She glanced into the dining room to make sure the \ table had been set with two extra places, made ready the cocktail tray in the living room, and then went to the balcony that ran along the back of the house, to observe the state of affairs around the pool. The children had hung their suits and towels on the line provided, leav ing the place quite tidy after their swim. They were really very good about that, except now and then when they had something important on their minds and forgot to clear up. What a good time they were having now! They had gone into the back den, the windows of which opened on the balcony where she was standing, and she could hear them as they discussed something that must be excruciatingly funny, What a lucky woman she was, she reflected. for the conversation seemed to con sist less of words than of laughter. Not wanting to interrupt whatever it was they were enjoying so much, Elizabeth sat down in a deck-chair on the balcony to wait for the ap pearance of Spratt’s car in the drive way. The shadows of the lemon trees were like dark lace shawls lying on the grass. A little wind rumpled the surface of the pool and moved gently past her, bringing odors of damp grass, lemon blossoms, torn gerani um leaves. The air was full of the twittering of birds making farewell to the sun as joyfully as the children were laughing within. Elizabeth leaned back, wrapped in a warm glow of pleasure. What a lucky woman she was, she reflected, and how much she had—a beautiful home, a husband who loved her, such charming, happy children. In the midst of all this, how foolish it was ever to remember anything else. It was good to have a few minutes alone, like this, to look at all of it and know she had a right to be proud because she had created it; good to take pleasure in her chil dren’s laughter and know they were so happy because of the love and se curity she had given them. No mat ter what might happen to them in the coming years they would have this to remember. She found herself laughing too, in echo of the four mirthful youngsters in the den. They were reading some thing, for she could hear the rustle of pages—no doubt those dusty old magazines they had brought in from Julia’s mother’s attic—and their voices came through the window to her, breathless with merriment. "What were Liberty Bonds?” asked Julia. “Government bonds to pay for the war, like the War Bonds jve buy now. Here’s a question-and-answer department, and somebody writes in to ask if it’s quite fair to sell long term bonds to be paid for by future taxpayers. He asks, ‘Isn’t that mak ing future generations pay for this generation’s war?' and the editor an swers—this’ll kill you—he answers, 'Exactly so, and this is one of the best reasons for buying Liberty Bonds today. For the fruits of this war will be enjoyed by the genera tions yet unborn.” “Jumping Jupiter!” Pudge ex claimed as the four of them went off into another paroxysm of mirth. "Generations yet unborn!” Cherry repeated. “That’s us.” "And aren’t we enjoying the fruits of that war!” said Julia. "Let me see that one, Dick. I wonder if this editor is still alive.” "If he is,” said Cherry. "I bet his face is red. Oh do look, here’s a beauty. A picture of a lot of babies, and the title is. ‘The America of to morrow, for whom the world is be ing made safe today.’ ” “1 bet every one of 'em’s in the army now,” said Dick. 'Take a peek at this. A picture of a lot of soldiers ready to go abroad, and the line under it says, ‘A payment on our debt to France.’ ” "Any time France feels like mak ing a payment on their debt to us,” said Cherry, ''I’m agreeable.” There was another sound of rustling pages, and she burst out laughing again. "Listen, everybody. ‘One of our greatest aims in this war is the re construction of Europe on such a basis that future holocausts like this one will be impossible. Out of the world's anguish must be born a new Germany, a nation in which democ racy shall rule, where no tyrant and no group of bloodthirsty lunatics shall ever again have the power to plunge a whole continent—’ ” The rest of her words were lost in a con fusion of laughter. "For the love of Pete," murmured Pudge, incredulously. "It’s right here in print, only you didn’t let me finish and the last sen tence is the funniest of all. ‘Ger many will be defeated, but their de feat will bring the German people one tremendous gain: it will mean for them the complete and final over throw of autocratic government.’ How do you like that?” "I get it,” said Pudge. "We were Just fighting the Germans for their own good, were we? Gee, when they look around they must be so grateful.” “1 see by this paper,” said Julia, "that the International Sunday School convention planned for 1916 has j’.st been called off because the delegates are too busy shooting each other to attend this year.” “Where were they going to hold it?” asked Cherry. "Don’t look now, dear. In Japan.” They began to laugh again. Pudge exclaimed, "Be quiet and let me read you something funnier than that. These editorials about the first air raid on an open city. It seems the Germans had things called Zep pelins—that’s a kind of blimp—and they sent some of these Zeppelins over Antwerp and dropped a few bombs, and here's what the Amer ican papers were saying about it. ‘The attack upon Antwerp, made without warning to its innocent pop ulation, is completely contrary to all rules of civilized warfare—’ ” “Rules?” Dick interrupted mirth fully. “You’d have thought it was a football game.” “ 'Zeppelins have dropped bombs on an undefended city!’ ’’ Pudge continued reading with mock horror. “ ‘This is not only contrary to the laws of war. but can serve no legiti mate military purpose—’ ” “What is a legitimate military pur pose.” Dick inquired, “unless it is to kill everybody you can?” “Shut up and let me read this. ‘As those who were killed or injured by the bombs were women and male non-combatants, the airship attack was nothing but a plain act of sav agery. This is not war, but mur der!’ ’’ “Did you ever hear anything so naive?” asked Cherry. “Was that first attack a bad one?” asked Dick. “I was saving that for the last,” answered Pudge. “If you can be lieve it, that first air raid, that das tardly, bloodthirsty, savage raid that made everybody sit back and yell with horror—that raid killed ten people and wounded eleven.” "Holy smoke!” exclaimed Dick, and the others joined in his derision. They chuckled joyfully. Cherry exclaimed, "I wish you’d look at these recipes for war-meals. ‘Free dom Meat Loaf,' made out of pea nuts and cornmeal.” "Peanuts do have Vitamin B in them,” suggested Julia. “They'd never heard of Vitamin B,” Dick said scornfully. “They had to eat peanuts and call ’em meat because our brave allies were buy ing up all the meat with the money they borrowed and didn’t pay back and never did intend to pay back. Do look at that headline—‘Every housewife who saves meat and flour in her home is bringing nearer the day of universal democracy.” “Do you suppose they really be lieved all that?” Cherry asked in wonder. Outside, on the balcony, Elizabeth lifted her hands from the arms of the chair and saw that each of the bright blue cushions was stained with a round spot of dampness where she had gripped them. On the other side of the window the chil drean made some fresh discovery and went off into another peal of laughter, gay, mocking, and terrible because it was so utterly innocent. Elizabeth stood up, her muscles tense with impulse. Then she stopped, standing motionless be cause she did not know what the impulse wa$. To do something to them—but what? She could not walk in upon them white with anger and cry out, "Yes, we believed it! You inhuman young wretches, we be lieved it!" She could not say that because they were not inhuman, and they were not wretches; they were young and well-bred and intelligent, and they would hear her with a pained bewilderment, and answer with the cool logic of their years, "Aren’t you ashamed that you did, when you look at the world we’re living in?" (TO BE CONTINUED) Ttl.Phillipj Vwv n i itwt McGOOFEYS FIRST READER I 1. —Oh, see the egg! Is it a fresh egg? 2. —Yes, but you musn't be too particular these days. S.—Which came first, the chicken or the egg? 4. —That no longer matters. The point to bear in mind today is that the customer comes last. II 1 _Who Is this? 2.—It is Jennie. Penny is a house wife. Jenny is carrying a basket. 5. —What is that in Jennie’s bas ket? 4. —A revolver, a letter from her senator, some credentials from her minister, a coil of rope, a map, a megaphone and a large bundle of money. 5. —Where is Jennie going? 6. —Jennie is going to try to get some eggs. 7. _Will she get some bacon, too? 8. —Don’t be redick. III 1—Oh, see the egg! It is not like the egg in Chapter I. 2. —No. Hie egg has been polished, taken to market, card indexed, graded, stamped and given wound stripes. 3. —How does an egg get wound stripes? 4 —If you had to go through the wars that an egg has to go through in getting from the farm to the consumer you would have wound stripes. IV 1. —Jennie is looking at the egg, isn’t she? 2. _There are 67 people ahead of her, though. 3. —Will Jennie get the egg? 4. —No. V 1. —Where is Jennie going now? 2. —She has left the store. She is going to a bingo party. 3. —Why? 4. —The door prize is one egg. 5. —Will she have a better chance to get the egg there? 6. —It won’t be any worse. VI 1. —Who is this? 2. —This is a maker of adages. He is author of the adage ‘Never place all your eggs in one basket.” 3. —What is he doing? 4. —He is changing the adage to read: “Never use a basket to get negative answers.” • • • IN THE FOG Ernie and ’Erbie and Clement A.— A Big Three of their own are they; John Bull with dripping, furrowed brow, He hardly knows the old place now! • • * “Truman in Frankfurt Review.”— Headline. Is this the first formal recognition of the hot dog in the global setup? To a Jap his old position balanced on top of a hif(h ladder in a cirrus must to day seem a position of comparative se curity. • • • Robert S. Wilson has been named the new United States rubber ad ministrator. HfJs reported to have plenty of bounce. • • • The Pullman company announces that after the war the old fashioned diner will largely disappear, to be replaced by a hot and cold buffet, or “Smorgasbord” car. Huge platters of "tempting dishes”—foods will be piled on a center table, from which the passengers will take their choice. The old cry "Last call for dinner” will disappear. This is okay with us, although we doubt that the railroads have even a remote idea what constitutes "tempting dishes.” Nothing in the general record to date so indicates. If anything on the diners today is tempting, we will eat the flagman’s lantern, without mustard Of coursp the war is largely responsible, but in peace days we never once heard anybody leave a dining car exclaiming “Boy. wasn’t that dinner a knockout!” A Harvard board has decided that the present educational system there, in most colleges and in high schools is pretty defective. It must make a university blush to find that It ha* ben teaching the wrong stuff for over 100 years. The board says Harvard has been educating the boys in specialties and neglecting the all-around gen eral education necessary to develop the intelligent and sound citizens. • • • Howard Hughes is completing a giant airplane that will have eight motors, carry 750 passengers and be big enough to support a super fortress on each wing. The general idea is to assure airplane tourists every discomfort they can find on the ground. • • • Joe Stalin is now the only survi vor of the original Big Three. He must have moments when he won ders whether he is conferring with tome team mates or just helping break in a junior membership. SEWING CIRCLE PATTERNS Simple, Flattering Daytime Frock 1374 36-52 Slenderizing Frock A CHARMING daytime frock for the woman who likes unclut tered simplicity. The gored skirt is slenderizing and very flattering to the larger figure. Shoulder tucks give a soft, feminine air. Even Then the Farmer s Wife Was Nameless Having accumulated a tidy little nest-egg, the old farmer went to a lawyer and said he would like to make a will. “I’ll leave all my money, house and stock to my good wife,’’ he said, “so just you write it out plain for me.” “Certainly,” said the lawyer. “What is your wife’s name?” After thinking for some minutes the farmer had to admit he couldn’t remember it. “Well, go to the door and shout upstairs as if you were calling her down,” suggested the lawyer. Hobbling to the door, the farm er opened it and roared up the stairs: “Missus! Missus! Missus!” Pattern No. 1374 Is designed for sizes 3fl. 38, 40, 42. 44. 46, 46, 50 and 52. Size 38 requires 4 > au!s of 35 or 39-inch ma terial. Due to an unusually large demand and current war conditions, slightly more time Is required In flHing orders for a few of the most popular pattern numbers. Send your order to: 8EWING C1RCI.E PATTERN DEPT. 530 South Wells 8t. Chicago Enclose 25 cents In coins for each pattern desired. Pattern No. ,. _ - .Size Name .. ... .. . - Address ... State Song9 Today, 25 states have an official state song, 19 have adopted theirs since the First World war. Flori da’s Swanee River and Kentucky’s My Old Kentucky Home were written by Stephen Foster, while Virginia’s Carry Me Back to Old Virginny was composed by James A. Bland, the Negro Stephen Foster. Rotating Statue One of America's outstanding memorials of the First World war is The God of Peace, the 38-foot onyx statue of an Indian by Car] Milles, installed in 1936 in the Ramsey county court house in St« Paul, Minn., says Collier's. To show the detail of its back, this 60-ton figure rotates automat ically on its base, to the right and to the left, 66 degrees in each di rection, completing the two move ments in five hours. .MAKE: ICE CREAM At horn# — Any flavor — DoIktouft— Smooth — No ico crystal* — No cooking —No ro whipping—No tcorchod flavor - lotv — I no n pom i vo — 20 rtcipn in ooch 154 pVg Pltoi* toad tbit od for froo full-tiio »om plo off«r, or boy from your grocor. j LonoonDeimy Brand Homrmad# Ico Croom STABILIZER HERE'S Baking Powder . The Baking Powder with the BALANCED Double Action Clabber Girl’s balanced double action makes it the natural choice for th«) modern recipe ... for just the right action in the mixing bowl, plus that) final rise to light and fluffy flavor in the oven. CLABBER GIRL FOR QUICK RELIEF FROM MUSCULAR ACHES Stiff Joints • Tirod Muscles • Sprains * Strains • Bruises! NgF W/catt/eu N££D ui SLOAN S LINIMENT Tire$tone GROUND GRIPS.. Beat’ on, EVERY> - U/HdC&z ALL ComcIi&A’hA GOOD tractor tires do two things. Fhey get every ounce of pulling power from your tractor. They stay on the job. That’s why Firestone Ground Grips are best on every job . . . under all conditions. There are sound reasons for this. Cord bodies are 14% stronger. . . able to withstand hard knocks. Tread life is 40% longer . . . capable of giving years of extra service. Firestone Ground Grips increase pull at the drawbar by as much as 16%. That’s because traction bars are connected, adding up to 1 215 inches of traction bar length per tractor. Also, there are no broken-bar, trash-catching pockets. The strong, sturdy bars are always clean . . . ready to take the next deep, forceful traction step. That’s why it is just sound economy, when buying tractor tires, to demand Ground Grips, made by Firestone, the pioneer and pacemaker. for the best in music, listen to the " Voice oj Firestone” every Monday evening over SBC network. CoprrigM, 1945. 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