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About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (Aug. 23, 1945)
TTcmencw is ^ ht> GWEN BRISTOW Dvtevt/i 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 raised by her aunt and uncle In Tulsa, where she met and married Arthur. Within a year after their marriage he enlisted, and soon afterwards was reported killed. Elizabeth moved to Lot Angeles, where the met and married Spratt. He knew ef her present feeling toward Arthur. Elizabeth one day overheard the children reading and laughing at the editorials and advertising matter appearing In print during World War I. CHA "TER IX Indoors the children came across some new monstrosity and broke into laughter again. Cherry finally gasped, “I tell you, my ribs hurt. I haven’t had so much fun for ages.” l "Oh boy,” exclaimed Pudge, "here’s another of these things. *To ' day, filled with hope and trust, we proudly look upon our great army and our noble allies. Through their sacrifices we are moving toward the victory that will bring triumphant peace to all the world. Bring this glorious day nearer! Work for vic tory as you never worked before! America is destined to be—’ ’’ “—the prize sucker of all time,” Dick finished the sentence for him,, with sudden disgust. “Did you ever hear such tripe? Couldn’t you throw up?” "Well—we really ought not to laugh,” Julia admitted. “The poor things, they took it so seriously.” "If we don’t laugh,” said Dick, “we’ll all sit down and cry. We’ve got the mess they made.” "Oh Dick,” Julia admonished him, "but really, this war is different!” "Different? Tell that to the Ma rines. Sure, the Marines who got stuck on Wake Island with a lot of popguns because the Japs were such good customers and they might have got their feelings hurt if we’d fortified it.” tyc xc a a wen uuuui ui o, aren’t we?” said Cherry. “To get ourselves born in these times!” “Well, we couldn’t help it,” Dick remarked. “But I guess nobody who had anything to say about it would have picked out the twentieth cen tury, any of it.” Cherry gave a low ironic chuckle. "They’ll have an easy time re membering the twentieth century when they study it in the history books. A pre-war period, a war, an inter-war period, another war, a post-war period—” “Don’t say post-war too soon, you wishful thinker,” Pudge admonished her lazily. “How do you know it won’t be just the second inter-war period?” There was a shuffling sound as they began to restack the magazines, evidently concluding that these had provided as much amusement as they could afford. “This is a fine way for two fellows to be talking,” advised Julia, “who’ll probably be in the army this time next year.” “No, you don’t get it, Julia,” said Dick. “I'm not as pessimistic as Pudge, I think the next inter-war period is going to be a lot longer than this last one, why it’s got to; by the time the war is over every thing wrill be blown to powder and there’ll be nothing left to fight with. But we’Te a lot better off than those moony-faced laddies who went marching off full of molasses about the brotherhood of man ana all that. We won’t be disillusioned when it’s over because we haven’t got any il lusions. We know it’s all a bloody mess and we’re in it because our elders didn’t have sense enough to keep us out of it. We'll go into the army and they'll train us to be kill ers whose busines it is to shoot other killers before they have a chance to shoot us first. And that’s that.” "But gosh, Dick!” Julia ex claimed in a shocked voice. “We’ve got to fight! Don’t you hate the Japs?” "Of course I hate them. I’d like to wipe every one of their monkey faces off the earth. Oh, that’s okay by me. I’ll shoot 'em and be glad I to do it. But that’s not the idea. I meant the difference between this war and the last one is that this time we know what we’re doing. We’re fighting to stay alive, period. We don’t expect any brand-new world.” "Lucky we don't expect it,” ob served Pudge, "because it's a cinch we’re not going to get one.” "Mr. Wallace,” Cherry said wise ly, “thinks we’re fighting to provide milk for the Chinese coolies.” Pudge chuckled at her. "Without even asking the coolies if they want any milk.” "You know,” said Cherry, ‘it’s really pathetic the way some of the propaganda leaders are trying to sell us on that idea of a brand-new world. Just get this over, and the Russians will love the Chinese and the Chinese will love the British and the British will love the Italians—” Pudge interrupted, still chuckling, "Just picture anybody actually lov ing the Italians.” “Oh, but they will,” Cherry as sured him cynically. “Haven't you read some of these post-war plan ners? Everybody is going to get along with everybody else, even the Spaniards.” "The State Department,” Dick re minded her, "gets along beautifully with the Spaniards.” Now that Chamberlain Is dead, said Cherry, “somebody really ought to send the State Department a lot of umbrellas for Christmas. Oh, it really does make you tired, doesn’t it? Ever since I can re member, people have been talking about the next war, and nobody did anything about it except to go on selling the Japs and Germans things to blow us up with. And now that we're in it they’re trying to hand us that same old fluff.” "I guess you’re right,” Julia ad mitted. “It’s—shivery, isn’t it?” Dick retorted, “It doesn’t make sense except the way I said it the first tvne. The Japs and Germans say, ‘We're going to kill you and take what you’ve got.’ We say. ‘Like hell you are.’ So we get up and ban’ it out. We keep banging till they’re so slugnutty they have to let us alone.” “That’s not the way it turned out last time,” Julia reminded him. “No it didn’t,” Dick agreed, “be cause last time everybody was so “Oh, what have I told him?” full of phony ideals and doubletalk. Why, to read this stuff we’ve been reading, you’d think the army was a lot of social workers sent out to up lift the community. Those fellows didn't know what they were fighting for. No wonder they left everything in such a muddle. Nobody ever fought a war for any ideals.” “Why Dick, there are some ideals in this war!” Julia protested. “You know, the Four Freedoms and all that.” Dick was too polite to contradict her at once, but Cherry was not. “Oh Julia," she said, “don’t be so sentimental. You don’t really be lieve anybody in the United States cares whether the Croatians and people like that have any Four Free doms, any more than they care about us. Nobody fights for anything like that. They just pretend they do while it’s going on." “She’s right, Julia,” Dick argued. “What they really fight about is property and power. They always talk pretty while it’s going on, and then when it’s over they get realis tic. But as soon as a new war starts they say, ‘Oh yes, we know, all the other wars were fought for crass reasons, but this one’s different, boys, this one’s different.’ ” He be came vehement. “Well, this one's not different and I’m thankful we know it. I'm plenty tired of every body pretending to believe what ev erybody knows isn’t true.” “I wonder what your mother and father would say,” Julia suggested, “if they could hear you talk like that.” "Oh, they wouldn’t mind,” said Cherry. “They’re very intelligent people, really.” "They’ve got some old-fashioned ideas,” said Dick, "like everybody their age, but generally speaking they’re very liberal for older people. They don't go around being always shocked about things.” Outside on the balcony, Elizabeth stood w’ih her hands gripping the rail. She was thinking, "Every word they are saying is my fault, mine and Spratt’s. They’re our children and we taught them to think this way. Or at least, if we didn’t teach them to be cynics, we didn’t do any thing to stop it. We ran away from the last war as fast as we could. In what Spratt called the world’s hang over, we didn’t say anything but ‘never again.' And now there’s an other war, and Dick will have to fight it—and listen to him! Is that how they all feel? If it is, their j children will have to do it again. Oh, what have I told him? What can I tell him now?” Little as she liked to admit it, she knew she had been a coward and that she was still a coward. She had refused to face what was there, and she still lacked the cour age to face it. Could she go into the house right now and say to Dick, “This war is a glorious crusade, and you must get into it now. Why wait ' uu next yeart mey wui iane you at seventeen. Oh yes, I know, thou sands of men have already been killed, but go ahead. What are you waiting for? It's worth it.” No, she could not say it. If she be lieved this war was worth winning, that was what she ought to say, but the truth was that she simply did not believe it that much. That was what had held them all back during the accumulating horrors of the past twenty years. They knew what war was like, they could let anything happen in the world if only they could keep out of another. She need not blame herself, Elizabeth thought, as though she was the only one. She stood there on the balcony, epitomiz ing her country. Turning around, she walked into the house, entering through a hall so as to avoid meeting the children in the den. With the disappearance of the sun the air had grown chilly. A fire might be welcome. She stood by a window in the living room, looking at the darkness as it gath ered swiftly over the lawn. A maid came in to turn on the lights. "Don’t you want me to draw those curtains too, Mrs. Herlong?" she asked. Elizabeth turned. "Why yes, I’d forgotter them. I’ll do this win dow.” She pulled the cord that drew the curtains together, and as the maid went out she turned from the window. How well-ordered ev erything looked, and was. Nothing had happened this afternoon. Noth ing had happened except within her self. Everything that had made her feel so strong and happy as she drove home through the canyon was still there. A voice in the doorway startled her. "Say, mother, we’re getting fam ished. Isn’t the boss home yet?” "Not yet, Dick. He’s very busy these days, you know, on the new picture.” "I know, but I’m starving.” “If the boss isn’t here by seven thirty, we’ll sit down without him,” she promised. ‘‘It’s getting cold, Dick, will you light the fire?” “Sure will.” Dick knelt down and applied a match to the gas rod un der the logs. He glanced at the cocktail tray. “Want me to mix the Martinis?” “I wish you would.” “Okay.” He went first to the door and called the others. ‘‘Want to come in here? Fire going.” “In a minute,” Cherry called back. “Got to wash our hands first —those magazines were so awfully dusty. Is the boss in?” “Not yet, but mother says we can have dinner at seven-thirty anyway. So hurry up.” The gas flame sparkled up to ig nite the logs piled in the grate. Dick swished the gin and vermouth. Though he was not allowed to drink cocktails himself, he enjoyed the feeling of adulthood it gave him to play bartender. What a nice boy he was, Elizabeth thought as she watched him. Dick asked, “Like a drink now?" "I believe I would. I’m a bit tired.” He poured it out for her, and watched while she tasted it. “How’s that?” “Very good. You could get a job.” ‘Til be needing one if that physics guy gets much tougher. Oh hello there,” he said as Cherry and the two others came in. They greeted Elizabeth, and Julia said, “That fire looks wonderful. I wish we had those gas lighters at our house, they start the Are with no trouble at all. You have just ev erything here, Mrs. Herlong.” “Why thank you, Julia." “This is the most comfortable house I was ever in. We’ve been having such fun all afternoon.” “I’m getting weak in the middle,” said Dick. “I wish you'd ordered some crackers or something.” “I’ll have hors d’oeuvres tomor row night. We're having a guest for dinner—I mean an older guest, from the studio.” “We were all going to ride down to the beach tomorrow night,” said Dick. "It’ll be all right if Cherry and I leave right after dinner, won’t it?" “For Cherry, but I’m afraid there’s another prospect for you." “For me? What?” he asked in alarm. Elizabeth gave him an urgent smile. It was a relief to turn her attention to her ordinary day-by-day affairs, to observe her children as normal healthy youngsters hungry for their dinner, to reach for a ciga rette and have both Dick and Pudge strike matches for her. She accept ed the light from Pudge, and smiled across it at Dick as he blew out the match he had struck. “Dick, our guest tomorrow night is a Mr. Kessler, from Germany. I’ve never met him, but he's working on the picture." “Another refugee?” inquired Cherry. “Yes, but you’ll both please re member not to call him that. Sim ply say, ’German,’ if you have to call him anything.” “I get it,” said Dick, “but what have I got to do about him?” “He has a daughter—” “Oh my gosh!” (TO BE CONT1NUBO) IT WAS in the later part of sum i ^ mer, 31 years ago, when the Bos ton Braves began to warm up and | get winging in their famous flight from the bottom to the top, leading | to a four straight world series vic • tory over Connie Mack’s Athletics, | rated then the best team in baseball. We began thinking of the Braves’ miracle when George Stallings worked Rudolph, Tyler and James Grantland Rice in uiis successive order for three months, because most managers to day have deep trouble in getting by one game with three pitchers. Day after day back in 1914 it was Rudolph — Tyler — James — Rudolph — Tyler — James on through July—on through August — uil LluUU^II ocpvcuu/ti UIIU1 v**\, i3M***v trio — working in this order — cleaned up the Mackmen in (our sunny October afternoons. Here was one of the most remarkable com binations in pitching history. Dick Rudolph won 27 games that sea son, and he was ably supported by Tyler and James. In talking with Rudolph after the series he had an interesting angle to offer— “I’ll tell you why we did so well,’' Dick said. “Working every third day, we had a much better chance to keep better control, to keep our arms in pitching condition, and to build up our confidence. I can see no reason why any able-bodied pitch er can’t work every third or fourth game. Why, Ed Walsh worked In 66 games back in 1908 or 1909 and won 40 of them, saving 10 or 12 others. I’ve seen strong pitching staffs pulled back because their best men worked every fifth or sixth day. That isn't enough work to strengthen a pitcher’s arm or to keep his con trot. “As you know, control is a lot more than a matter of bases on balls. It is also a matter of putting the ball where you want it to go, high or low, over the outside or the inside corner. You can’t get that sort of control working every fifth or sixth day. Even after pitching most of the Braves games for three months we were still in top shape for the world series. It has always been my belief that pitchers should be worked in something well over 300 innings each season to keep them in shape and to keep them geared up for their best work. I know that’s why and how we won the pennant and the big series. We had enough work in the box to keep right.” Rudolph IT as Right Practically every fact you can pick up proves that Dick Rudolph had the answer. We have seen most of the great pitchers of baseball. In this list you’d have to include Cy Young, Walter Johnson, Christy Mathewson, Grover Alexander, Carl Hubbell and Bob Feller. Old Cy was always good for bet ter than 300 innings. Walter John son in his best years averaged around 370 innings. Alexander and Mathewson averaged around 360 in nings. In his two best years, 1915 and 1916, Alexander worked 376 and 389 innings. Thl- n nf nW/ihinor (urnml their arms into steel. It helped them to keep the ball where they wanted it to go. It kept them conditioned, and also was a hip factor in keep ing them confident. In comparison with these brilliant records from former years, take a look at the modern breed. Last year there were only two pitchers in the American league who worked over 300 innings and they were Hal New houser and Dizzy Trout. What happened? Together they won 56 ball games. Not another pitcher in the American League worked over 270 innings. None of the others drew much more than a warm up, doing about two-thirds of a season’s job What about the National league? Bill Voiselle of the Giants with 313 was the only pitcher in this circuit to pass the 300 inning mark. None of the others reached 290. Most of them fell below 250 innings. This can’t be helped where a pitcher has a sore arm, but hard working pitch 1 ers rarely have sore arms. John Siddall, one of our best edi tors, once wrote—"There is no sub stitute for work.” This goes for i pitchers also. "I'd like to have a pitcher who could work over 300 innings,” a man ager recently said when he brought up the argument that most pitch ers were far underworked. "The trouble most of us are hav ing now is getting a pitcher who can last five innings." This is true, but no pitcher working only 180 or 200 innings from April to October is going to have any chance to de velop, to strengthen his arm, to build up his control — or amount to much. It would be' much better for modern pitchers to work more in batting practice or at least find some method of throwing the ball oftener. They need stronger, tougher arms. They need better con trol. And they can get this in no I other way. JAPANESE WARLORDS CONFER First Warlord. — Here are some American terms of surrender. Let us reject them at once. Second Warlord. — Why so fast? Wouldn't it be well to think them over? First Warlord. — If we start think ing at this point all is lost Third Warlord. — Are the terms really bad” First Warlord.—I never realized Japan’s position was so terrible until I read them. Fourth Warlord. — Just what is the ultimatum? First Warlord. — If we don’t give up now we will get into trouble! Second Warlord. — That is the understatement of the war. Third Warlord.—Does it not mean that by rejecting the terms we will be leaping from the frying pan into the fire? Fourth Warlord (emphatically).— What Halsey is using on us is no frying pan! How did we ever permit him to bring his fleet in so close? First Warlord.—It w'as easy! Fifth Warlord (entering with pa per).—Here's another one! Third Warlord.—Another what? Fifth Warlord. — Another daily communication from the Yankee air force announcing the batteries, the team signals and the program for the day, play by play. Fourth Warlord. — Where Is our air force? First Warlord. — It is busy in its suicide campaign. Second Warlord. — How is the suicide campaign going? First Warlord. —Excellent. It is terrorizing everybody but the enemy. _• Fourth Warlord. — Is it perhaps about time the honorable Japa nese faced facts, took stock and con sidered the prospect of losing the honorable Japanese shirt? First Warlord. — Honorable Japa nese can get along without a shirt. Fourth Warlord. — We may get a chance to prove it. Third Warlord. — Let us be of brave hearts. Remember we have the Japanese honorable ancestors with us. Fifth Warlord. — I had a dream about honorable ancestors last night I dreamed they were so overworked backing us up that they had inaugu rated a night shift. ALL. — MAYBE THAT WAS NO DREAM! • • • Help Wanted Ads For War Time RESTAURANT CHEF: One who excels in making the worst of a bad situation preferred; must lack any desire to satisfy the customer and be a slave to the belief that any dish is appealing, provided it has a little succotash, string beans and creamed cheese on it. •_ LAUNDRY WORKERS: Bring own acids, tongs, sickles, hole punchers, ripping devices and button busters; good money and lots of fun. SALESMEN: No conception of salesmanship required; preference given to men and women who are not interested in selling any thing anyhow; we provide most com fortable chairs in town, also Rac ing Form. OFFICE BOY: One willing to start at $75 a week; $100 to $125 os soon as you remember to fill the paste pots; use of the boss’s office for crap games provided. Three hours for lunch. MAN TO MOW LAWN: $5 an hour and no criticism from employer; will give $2 an hour extra if you trim around the mintbed; only those who never remove a rock from path of lawn mower need apply. MISCELLANEOUS: Jobs of all ! kinds. Do you want big money? Do | you wish to get ahead? Write today, J stating your lack of experience, giv : ing details concerning your general lack of ability and naming the last three places where you exasperated the customers. • • • Two people, one a railroad ticket window clerk, convicted of a black market traffic in Pullman reservations in time of war, have been fined $100 and given a year in prison with sen tence suspended. This means that they can close the books at a fine profit, es cape any time behind bars and find comfort in the thought that they couldn’t have done, better if they had been able to get a lower for the judge. • • • "Eighteen Billion Tax Cut Possi ble”—Headline. Wanna bet? • • • EATING OUT Remember when the waiter used to come around, smile tolerantly and inquire if everything was okay? Now he stomps to the table in the manner of a Nazi with an ultima tum, slaps down a dinner check that looks like a federal budget estimate and almost demands “What’s delay ing your exit? Doncha know you’re bolding up new business?” Canary Design? Will Enliven Your Kitchen \^=V5244 A BRIGHT little canary en livens any kitchen. Use these 6 by 6 transfer designs on tea towels, on cottage curtains, on the corners of a breakfast or luncheon cloth. Besides yellow for the canary, red, green and blue are the other colors needed. • • • To obtain six transfer designs for the Canary Towels (Pattern No. S244), color chart for working, Illustrations of stitches used, send 18 cents In coin, your name, address and the pattern number. Send your order to: KEWINO CIRCLE NEEDLEWORK S30 South Wells St. Chicago. Enclose 18 cents for Pattern. No_ Name. - Address_— Tree Gets Kiffht of Way A very independent tree is a pine growing between Cheyenne and Laramie, Wyo. It’s a tree that has moved a railroad, for when the Union Pacific laid their tracks through the section in 1H67 the roadbed was placed around the tree. The pioneers hated to cut down the only tree for miles around. SNAPPY FACTS ajwp RUBBER 1,417,000 oirptone tire* »«r* built in 1944-733% more than war* produced la 1941. Carbon black I* a pi&rssent which, whan mined with rub ber, reinforces the molecule* of rubber—similar to the way slag or pebble* aro used In reinforcing concrete. It is tbe third most important nsate rlal that goes into a tiro. Shortages of carbon block, tex tiles and wire are largely respon sible for the present critical stiort oge of tires. Over 125 feet of steel wire are used In the construc tion of an average-site passenger car tire. 1 7 fiif <9' **^^*^ ^ ttwaiMW 0\ivia de n*1™ pic«r*, ,t,r of «he rec r^Seti srsr dhiy, (jJcUl ftontLbu OJLcifc QMl/ tkfr “two modi' wvjbfrlfont UJO\Ja UtC LM/ AoAmjJj MV "tfelft UWl/ ? |U|OT long ago, Russian armies were lined up on the Oder, fac ing desperate Nazi resistance before Berlin. On the 14th of February, nearly 4,000 bombers and fighters, part British, part American, flew to that vital sector and smashed at enemy strong points and concen trations. Some planes actually un loaded their bombs only 12 miles in front of the Russian spearhead! That was Combined Operations. In Burma, a British Admiral led tough U. S. Rangers, Tommies from all parts of the Empire, Indian Ghurkas and Sikhs, Chinese foot soldiers, carrying weapons made in Bridgeport. All wore different uniforms. But all shared in their hearts a single determination—to destroy the arch-destroyers, to con quer the common enemy. That is Combined Operations — two words that affect the future of mankind. We have learned the lesson that to win this war we had to fight side by side with our allies, regardless of race, religion or politics. And now, with durable peace within our grasp, we cannot aban don that lesson. Unity, efficiency, fellowship, international coopera tion must be continued. Every American citizen, every man and woman in the nation, has a definite contribution to make toward seeing that a permanent in ternational body to maintain peace be made a going concern. We must add our strength to the surging movement toward unity among all men of good-will in every part of the globe. We must pledge our unswerving support to that movement, give our statesmen and legislators the support they need to make it effective. We must determine to make the necessary start, even though the first step is not as altogether perfect as wemight wish. Will you play your part in this greatest of all Combined Opera tions.-’ Will you take your place in > the ranks with your fellow men in the striving toward permanent peace? I First, get and keep yourself in formed about the specific pro posals for peace and interna tional cooperation which are 1 now before us. Read and listen to the discussions of them. Ask your Public Library for material on them. Second, interest your friends in these questions. Get them dis cussed in any social, labor, bus iness, religious or other groups to which you belong. Third, say what you think—for j or against—in writing, to your | . Congressman and Senators, to your newspaper. Declare your self. Speak up. Work today for peace, that your} children may live tomorrow. fry [Mtrtltl It TIE III IIIEItmil CHICHI1