JO ELLEN
By ALEXANDER BLACK. copyright, hh.
... ___A
(Continued From Yesterday.!
Or there might be something about
► childhood, whether ths family
thought about it or not, that explained
tcrrifirally. Jo Ellen, instigated by
Myrtle Klerk, had sat in a dase
through a lecture on psychoanalysis.
It had seemed reasonable enough, ini
ths parts she could understand, hut
It made her uncomfortable. There
was a good deal about dreams and she
Vary seldom had a dream. That defi
ciency in dreams appeared as a defect,
or at least as an abnormality. She
preferred to be natural. It was made
plain in Hie le< ture that being nat
ural was desirable. After that when
slie had u dream site made a great
effort to remember It, to straighten
out tlie thread of it, and this was
desperately hard. Her dreams didn't
seent to be clear. She concluded that
they were not the kind you were ex
peeled to have, the kind that could
be translated and would explain
everything about you.
Myrtle Fleck said slip liad wonder
'ful dreams. The boys in them were
Very clear, down to the color of their
socks. She often thought she was
going to be married in one of the
dreams. In fact, she often felt as if
tills were at the brink of happening.
I'.ut it never quite did. Some day she
was going to a Freudian doctor to
have her dreams read. She supposed
she would have to tell them ail, or
nearly all. Anyway, it would be tre
mendous. . . .
Jo Ellen remembered that Marty
bad once told her of a dream in which
she appeared. It was one day when
the two had s picnic on the Point,
where the trees are very tall and old
and where a lot of them, naked and
black, lay dead across the paths,
A making it a climbing or crawling
wT matter to get around. The funny
■ thing, lie said, was that whereas she
and Jo Ellen at the beginning of the
dream the seemed to be seeing the
dream quite circumstantially in the
middle of a sandwirh) with something
like a wand, or maybe it was a sword
In her hsnd, she suddenly became an
other person. "Do you mean another
girl?" Jo Ellen had asked him. O
no! he hurried to say. It was a
woman—very much older—and im
pressively majestic. Since nothing in
particular had happened in the dream,
the listener wondered why he told
it Probably he had been reading
something. To Marty the vividness
of Jo Ellen had been quite enough
to make the dream remarkable, al
though the transmutation had been
stated as its special feature. He had
asked Jo Ellen if she believed in
dreams. This being before the period
of the psychoanalysis lecture, Jo El
" 1 1 " "* —
New York
•-Day by Day-- i
/
By O. O. M’INTYRK.
New York. July 3.—Amid the
■qualor of foreign colonies dotting
the east side are thousands who
could live In comparative ease and
comfort in other communities. Yet
they hang together not because of
companionship but bec ause of food.
The foreign colonies are no differ
-i ent from any other poorer section
^ save in the matter of gastronomies.
The Americanzatlon begins at Kills
1 Island when relatives equip new ar
rivals with clothes that do not dis
tinguish them from natives.
Hilt when It comes to tickling the
palate the foreigner is at sea. He
finds, outside the foreign colonies,
onions are boiled and so are the pota
toes. The menu larks rest. Instead
of garlic and red pepper there are
untempting sweets.
The alien taste rarely changea. If
the Immigrant is used to his native
strudels, pie is a poor substitute and
he rannot reconcile our thin soups
to heavy borsch. You find In London
and Pails expatriates who mourn
only because of the food.
Recently there came to a New York
hospital an Italian In the throes of
/ delirium. He was pitifully crying for
spaghetti and red wine. For a month
he had been working for a truck
gardener on Long Island and could
not abide the fare there. At a hos
pital he was given what he craved
and recovered.
The foreigner, ton. is «ged to a
light breakfast—a porridge or a hit of
toast. Luncheon is a heavy meat and
here the process ts reversed. Break
fast is a food jamboree and luncheon
is a lid bit. The most, impressive
thing about a foreign colony are the
i afes.
Tenement homes eonform to Amer
ican rustoms. Children play Ameri
can games. Young girls hob their hair
and youths wear the flashy output
of the on» flight ups. But In cafes
nothing Is changed. One enters them
lo find himself hack again In the old
world so far as food goes.
b The term "aap” ts used to he ap
S* plied to the country aimpleton. It
f denoted a heavy ael of adennlda. an
expression of vacuity and a mentality
that would not propel |ta owner out
of a ahower. Rut It would seem the
big ettv haa gobbled the apot. The
"aap” la more of a New York product
than of the croaa-roada. Here the term
la applied to the fellow with a ready
check book and a weakness for gold
diggers. The "sap" la the reason for
the covert charge. Alrnoat every
week hla endearing "ootaie tootsie”
letters are being read to 12 perfect
atrangera.
But after all, the New York "aap"
can fool us country boys. Not so
long ago—and I’ve lived In New York
before the Wool worth building waa
begun—a auave gentleman called on
me to lntereat me In a get-rlch qulck
scheme. I was to pay him f5 a week
from then on or something like that.
And live In old age plenty. I paid
for many weeks before the awaken
ing. The other day I read where he
bad toaacd a pearl neckline over the
footlights In a bunch of roaea to a
ahow girl. Then he went Into hank
ruptcy. The ahow girl waa married
to a chorus man. Anti perfectly
happy.
New York’s biggest department
store on fifth avenue la shortly to
open. It la a marvel of up-to-date ef
ficiency. The elevators open auto
mat Icall y. Purchases are delivered
anywhere within Munlintlan williln a
half hour and the head floorwalker
aald he did not care whether Mrs.
Aatorbllt ever came Into Hie establish
inent or not. They want quir k sates
and rash sales The slote nccuplea
an entire block and I he shoe depart
inenl occupies iwo floors. Rich pen
pie In New York do moat of their
. buying to Paris especially millinery
I* and dresses. This store la to profit,
a from the great middle class which will
take a certain pride In telling neigh
kora of buying on "the avenue.”
kCecyrscht. list.)
len hail merely been amused and per
haps slightly contemptuous. When
she had asked, pointedly, whut he
meant, he had answered, unsatisfac
torily. that he was Just thinking. He
knew that there was such a thing as
believing in dreams. As usual, .lo Kl
len was disconcerting.
To have t'onev Island as something
that impended was not what It might
have been if there was no interven
ing secret. That intervening secret
affected everything. It had assumed
a bulky inconvenience since Its be
ginning. The more she thought of
the affair of the boat, the harder she
found thinking of the secret as Inno
cent. The whole thing had become
harder to thtnk about comfortably.
It was harder to imagine not know
Ing anything more about Stan Hamer,
lie had escaped. That was that. It
would l»e better not to know any
thing more about him. You could
figure it out quite plainly that when
von couldn't go on with a thing,
couldn’t go on knowing more. It was
better to have it stop short, to hnve
It blotted out by darkness. . . . His
figure just evaporated into the world
that wus not in wood, if you had
boon foolish, that was a good way to
have the foolishness come to any end.
it was a pity, a little more of a
pity than at tlrst, that there had to
be Emma Traub. No use telling
Etnma Traub about the boat. Not
telling her seemed to make the case
more complicated, but having her
know' threatened, unquestionably, to
Increase the awkwardness of the
secret. Tf (here was something really
reprehensible about the boat part of
It, no use forcing a guilty knowledge
on Emma. Yet she had a curious
Interest in meeting Emma.
XIV.
The day of the Coney Island trip,
nit hough It promised adroitly in the
early hours, had several paroxysme
of rain with Intervale of a. nervous
brightness. Marty was very enter
prising in working out plans he had
made. These plans were modified
somewhat by the showery Incidents
snd by the stale of the streets and
shore spaces while these were steam
lug toward dryness. Me carried Jo
Ellen s bathing suit, rolled tightly In
its rubber cover, and knew precisely
when they were to go in, and where.
He had a theory about Steeplechase,
because he knew she had been there
on a birthday jvith Uncle Ben and
had laughed much. On the whole.
Steeplechase was not so successful an
adventure as he had expected. It
ippeared that she had laughed chiefly
it Uncle Ben, who had committed ex
iiaordinary deeds. You wight think
to hear Jo Ellen that Uncle Ben had
L'oney Island In an uproar. Where
Unde Ben had been amusing Marty
was gallantly solicitous. He took care
that Jo Ellen should escape the trick
Maces where gusts of air blew your
ikirts up. He was somewhat aston
ished that she should wish to try tlje
tildes that tumble you about, and ad
mired intensely her cleverness in not
tteihg tumbled shamelessly like some
of the other girls. Jo Ellen had no
misgivings about dignity. She was
fickle as to anything she had seen or
tried on earlier visits, whereas Martv
liked to do things because he had
lone them before.
They were fully agreed upon two
restures of the day: the surf and Ihe
lancing. Jo Ellen threw herself lnlo
the sea with a reckless hjlsrity, swim
mlng and plunging so vqfftrously that
Martv whs kept at the limit of his
speed. Once when her cap came off.
showing the flash of Iter hair, a
squealing voice piped, "(lee! the
tcean's on fire!" Marty scowled angri
ly. Fortunately the voice was not
0 be identified.
On the sand In Ihe sun he built a hit
ock against which Jo Ellen was to rest
ter back while her hair dried. As
:hey sat half buried, he exclaimed
’xullantly that it would be fine to be
where you had miles and miles of
sand and where no mob kept you
from seeing the blue rim, on snd on.
He didn't esy anything shout hold
ng her hand in such a picture, but
he wish for this, or for some equlva
ent adjustment, was In his voice.
The beef dance was In the big pn
.llion. where you could trot around
1 circle that expanded like an equa
or and where the band had almost
he symphonic splendid Jo Ellen liked
o Imagine. Marty was a better darn
tr than Jo Ellen had believed. He
was prolific In new steps, which he
otroduced casually. When Jo Ellen
'ollowed them all he remarked with
fervor that their way of dancing to
sether was simply perfect, as If they
were cabaret partners nr something.
They had agreed upon a shore din
per at Calingo’s anil Jo Ellen found
opportunity to notlre Marty's older
manner, particularly In the matter
if the waiter, who was fat snd red,
with a bristling black mustache.
Marty was peremptory with the wait
sr, but the waiter was not to be
iffei led by any sort of manner, lie
save the impression of being deeply
houghtful about something else, and
Marty had to repeat everything a
second time. All that Marly con
rived to say appeared to |,e of no Im
portance whatever. The waiter spoke
out s. single word. "
Ain’t It a Grand and Glorious Feeling By Briggs
whew you ve ge*N rcadimg
ABoot a TrpRiBLe KidnappieJiS
CASE / AMD IT OCCUR5 To
You all or a .SUJDDCru You
HAUCWT MCA R 0 JUNIOR'S
voice roa quit* a uui-uli?
- At'<D_YoU ARMSt* IKJ ALARM
and Tr<tm0L!nj<sly Call
HI.S MAmL - *. NO, MU-SUJISP
- *lOI> VcJO RUSH FROM Tmu 1
Room C(*vllikjg, ltou.d<?r.» !
♦ MO.iTlUL NO Ai0 6uoeR. — l
ASJt> YOU STAND AT THf
DOOR 1-Ain.LY 5HRICKIW6 Ml4
WAMe f aiud You arc just
heciwMirvic, To CoiusiJDea a
t AiMTiiuC SPCLL t — tun Sro •
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* UP iivj Tner ct-taA*V
Twee., nr. HAS
Ber.M f-oRBipxjc^
Yoo MPw M15 liTree
vjotce
oh * m * n Boy • * «iN T it
a GR R-R-RftRO AimD
c«GOR R R-Rioua Feeuio’?
■HMj -l.WVf.4
ABIE THE AGENT Drawn for The Omaha Bee by Hershfield
Jt‘» \b*olutel.v
fr--^ —-___
• ^ ' ' ,»■ A
i
"Reer?" he asked absently.
"No," answered Marty.
When the waiter turned coldly away
Jo Ellen concluded that if they didn't
want beer they were beneath consid
eratlon and that nothing further
could be expected. Some time later
they saw the owner of the black
bristle* standing with his hands un
der his apron, his face more acutely
r>'d, as If In fury, or shame, or In
the distress nf some secret illness,
staring into the alley traffic. Never
thelesa. the shore dinner came at the
moment when hope of it had been
abandoned, and it was memorably
good. .Jo Kllen, having no cares, ate
Enthusiastically.
"I wouldn't give such a person a
Up,’’ she said as the end of ttie dinner
drew near.
But at about this time the waiter
begun to seem less withdrawn, as if
he had mastered the family grief or
whatever it was that gnawed behind
his frayed shirt front. He even be
frayed a fear that some little detail
of the feast, like the position of the
sugar in relation to the dessert
spoons, might fail of an utter nicety,
a perfection exquisitely complete. Jo
Kllen concluded that Marty, ai the
lust, felt sorry for him, and Marty
wished Jo Kllen wouldn't watch him
while he paid the bill. It would have
been better It a man-toman matter
could lmve been conducted without
an audience. When the waiter, by a
dipping motion, juggler style, had
gathered the tip In the one hand that
lifted the chance tray, his fa rile''
aloofness returned.
So diil Marty's cheerfulness. They
went forth into the outer turmoil
with buoyant steps. The air reeked
with fragment* of jai.t..
XV.
They had not talked much *t the
beach. Jo Kllen's responsiveness
toward every pointed spectacle, her
birdlike alertness for each shifting
phase of the Irene, every barkers
bark, every fragment of tune, her
comfort shle curiosity thst could se*
stir without being stirred beyond a
happy participation, were baffling to
Marty's conversational Impulses.
Yet his sense of well being needed
to be spoken. The feeling of approarh
to the status of a successful-mala
creature expanded him, and Jo Kllen
caught the signs of a voluble period,
(To Hr < on H nurd Tomorrow.)
1 He, INLODO EAT, DRINK AND BE MERRY. Directed for The Omaha Bee by Sol Hes»
. RuDVS I
Giv/>nG APARW
To f\LL #
NORTHVlLLE
To CELEBRATE
US VICTORS
-4
The GvW ‘
IS the UfVr
when Rudv
TPKES the
RUBBER OFT
mSROLL
HE'S SPRFMMUG
MONEV Like
BURNT PAMPER
IN THE WIND
RED HOTS
I A.ND NOXKGE
( TOR *LL
f VOD fcfcCK (\GWN 1 N
f vmwft do you tmink 'fou’Qr \
ON - ft MCRRV-GO-ROONO?
IF l WftSN'T 60 HftPP'tf— IF
HV HCftRT DIDN'T GO OUT
DEAR FRIENDS-YOU'RE MY GUESTS —EAT REO
HOTS AND DRINK N01AEE -THEY'LL MAKE YOU
BARkANDUUNP- AND DANCE TO UNCLE PHIL’S
MUSIC - ALL FREE AS POLITICAL ORATORY
- IF THERE'S ONE MOUTHFUL OF FOOOOR A
j DROP OF WATER LEFT OR A SQUEAK LEFT IN
JTHE FIDDLE WHE
TW PARTY'S
OVER I WONT
THINK YOU WAD
A GOOD TIME
^
l
»
Barney Google and Spark Plug A “RARE CHANCE,” BUT BARNEY MAKES IT. Drawn for The Omaha Bee by Billy DeBeck
Ypu ' r OOV*IOJ 7s IN s A MSW
..74? I'A*)^ - I n;sO / PA'U*' SHOP P'llnr
"42 US' MO** To PAY ' A»M*jOT-c RAf>»1
Pep SPARKYS GwTr.Y ( At'tr NJ) 007
I YO n.ir .j..
I Co»yn«Kt W4. Wy Kifu F—Mr— Sym&— U, 1»«
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BRINGING UP FATHER «. D">»" Tts„.°”«h» B« by McM»«.
!
*
telltheroRELAov IN THE r
TRIMNIMC, DEPARTMENT to 1
COME HERE ILL LET HER KNOW
wrto i^ the mew Owner, or
-i)%n TH,r> Fi«-m j——
C'»?< ■» Int l F«»Tv«** Sf*V<e< l«t- I
JERRY ON THE JOB THIS NONSENSE MUST STOP Drawn for The Omaha Bee by Hoban
(Copyright 1924)
