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About The Omaha morning bee. (Omaha [Neb.]) 1922-1927 | View Entire Issue (July 21, 1924)
JO ELLEN By ALEXANDER BLACK. Copyright. 1924. I L_/ (Conttnned From Saturday.) “My daarl You're not a pacifist, art you?" Jo Ellen wasn't sure ehe knew what a pacifist was. Eventually Mrs. Trupp seemed to be faintly reassured. She Indicated that Mr. Trupp's atti tude was satisfactory. Incidentally, she hoped the war wouldn’t hurt his business. The debates at home were frequent ly complicated for Jo Ellen. Her mother and Uncle Ben had more than one open quarrel, in which Uncle Ben had used the word pacifist with an ugly emphasis. Mrs. Rewer wns in corrigible. She could understand about that. The best man won. But this dirty war thing . . . "But the dirtier it Is,” cried Uncle Ben. “the more reason to go and stop it!” "That's the way they start It!” re torted Mrs. Rewer. "In any fight you hit first to stop it. Then you're off." Grandmother Bogert rebuked all argument. She saw the war as a job, one of those things that keep coming along nnd that you have to attend to. Jo Ellen wasn't sure that she wholly sided with her mother, but from the way Uncle Ben looked at her. some times over his shoulder when he walked up and down the room, swing lng his arms, ehe knew that she was disappointing. Xo other comment could match the bitterness of Mona Pascoe. Miss Pas coe's lace contorted when her hot sarcasms were flung at the patriots, who pounced upon objectors. It was pathetic and startling to hear her voice soften in the cry, "It's all so damned cruel!” The conflict In Jo Ellen herself often made her miserable. There were times, then and later, when the need to get her hands Into the mess, to push in some direction, appeared to have a hot imperativeness. Sit ting In the office and looking at the apartment house windows made her feel like Wilton. If she sat there long enough it was possible that she would get to he like Wilton, to look like him, lips and all. Meanwhile, all outdoors flared with war colors and sounds. Jo Ellen knew that something was wrong. It might be that all this out door show was wrong, as Mona Pas coe believed. Or it might be that the wrongness was in herself. Then again, it might he that maddening Blit between the buildings, which on certain days seemed narrower than others, as if the buildings might final ly crush her between them. On these days she was sure that the trouble was the office, and she could stride rapidly from one end ‘of It to the other, to and fro, swinging like a - --N w New York —Day by Day _j By O. O. MTNTYRE. New York, July 21.—A page from Ihe diary of a modern Samuel Pepys: 17p betimes and find myself lately awake earlier than my wont and so j came Arthur West, the comedian, and sang me an amusing lyrio called “Chilly B. V. D.’s" and Jokingly in- j vited me to a dress rehearsal of his banging. i To breakfast, my wife and I, with , John Dorrance and Maybelle Man- ; nlng and said farewell to John i against his going to Europe and then ' back to my stint and labored two hours. In the afternoon with Amon Carter to Frank Phillips’ home for tea and a lively crowd there includ ing Earl Carroll, Will Edrington, a ■ iiand-kissing count, and come ex tremely fair ladles and some of us remained for dinner and danced. Later to Ray's where we found , Tom Kinsey, Will Johnston and Hat- j tie Bell, Lillian Young and some others and fell to discussing dreams i anrl their significance. So home and to bed. A few years ago he was an ec centric dancer whose popularity was amazing. He toured America, South America and Europe with increasing , success and suddenly his vogue waned. He found chilly Indifferent everywhere. After *ix months of seeking an engagement he has bgi ' come a feature in a second-rate cabaret. He has really improved his dancing and is better than ever yet he Is in the discard. "I made myself too conspicuous,” he told me. "I played too many benefits and the public grew tired of me.” A reporter for an afternoon news paper was sent to Interview a woman novelist from Europe. He was to question her it length an some ex tremely abstruse problems. Through error on part of the hotel clerk he was told to go up to her room un announced. He opened the door and found her stretched out In a com fortable chair smoking a big black cigar. She was so flustered she de clined to be Interviewed. “Before sailing parties" In New York are rather hectic affairs. Two newly married couples began with an afternoon reception on the day lie fore their sailing. The party lasted until S the next morning and the brides and grooms became involved in a quarrel and decided not to sail. The disagreement reached the separa tlon stage and divorce Is around the corner. Ixistlng quarrels are an enigma to me. It seems such ft waste of ef fort to pout and quit speaking to folk or to continue disliking them. There are only two people in the world for whom I hold a perpetual grudge. One Is a butcher who poisoned a dog of mine when I was a hoy, snd the other la a fellow who used to call me on the telephone and begin conver sation with, "Guess who this is?" And about the only man I know who allows a great and keen dis like for me Is a fellow who bor rowed a sum of money and to whom I wrote a note three years later ask ing if he considered my little invest ment permanent. New York thinks the great Ameri can boob 1a the fellow who |i con tented to live In Horsecough, Arlz., own hla own home, drive a flivver, work in hla garden, attend hla lodge nnd islt on the front potch In the evening. We wonder what the man fmm Horsecotigh would think of the follow who strolls along Fifth avenue wearing a pearl derlty, a monocle, bow ribbon cuff links and lavender splits He lives in a hall bedroom In a West Fifty-seventh street hoard ing house and la a floor walker In a candy store. (CsprHgbt. lilt-) j caged panther, then slam a record book against Mr. Trupp's partition. She didn't hate Mr. Trupp, but his partition permitted a more rebellious sound. Her restlessness, which grew more obstinate in refusing to melt for abnn doned intervals, gave keen signifi cance to an incident that changed her immediate ottMook. VII. The change came with an efTect of swiftness, of fantastic swiftness. It confirmed Jo Ellen's belief that Chance could be impudently casual Terhaps It wouldn t be Chance unless it had this way of working; and evi dently Impudence could be a formid able enemy of Plan. You had a no tlon of planning things, though you hated planning. Then came a Mr. Trupp, for example. . . . Po Ellen and Mona were eating lunch in a place they had chosen as a restless variation upon their tire some formula, and were nearing the end of their light meal when Jo Ellen found herself looking up at a small person who stood at the end of their table. He hnd stiff light hair and a face that might mean that he was youngishly old or oldishly young. His eyebrows rose very high as he said, looking at Jo Ellen. "Excuse me, but are you a stenog rapher?” "Not a public one,” answered Jo Ellen. "Very good! I can explain why I’m asking, if I may sit here for a mo ment. It may look outrageous,” he went on as he took the corner of the third chair, "and I guess It is. Every thing's been outrageous since yester day. I'll explain in a moment if you'll pardon me. You know of Eawrence Eberly, the theatrical pro ducer?” "I don't," said Jo Ellen. “That's fame for you. Anyway, he's among the big ones in the theater world. Important to be with him. Important, and al30 . . . Eh, he’s very prominent and successful, I may re mark. And he needs a stenographer at once. Of course, you would say, why not go a proper way about it? He did. He said, 'Harold, get me a stenographer. Miss Walsh Isn’t com ing back.’ That was yesterday after noon. But we've been having a baby. Frightful. I just remembered ] hadn't eaten anything since yester day. And no stenographer. I tele phoned about my own trouble. Bui the stenographer. She has to be there. Eberly—” "You talk," said Jo Ellen, "as If a stenographer was something you went and bought In a package." "I don’t blame you at all. For all I know this is insulting, my asking you this way. But the Eberly job is very interesting. Suppose this Is unusual? What will you care how It happened? Here's Eberly saying, 'Get a stenographer.’ He waves his wand. It seems like that. He ex pects to get one magically. No ste nographer springs out of the floor. There's me. I’ve got to be the ma gician. But here was the baby. If he had asked for a baby . . "You don't suppose—” began Jo Ellen. "No, I dont,” Interjected Eberly’s factotum eagerly. "But here's Eberly —so hard to get at, with a job girls would fall over themselves to land And I said to myself, as soon as I had the coffee, If that girl over there should just happen to be a stenog raper, and should Just happen not to think she had n hundred per cent Job, how do you know?—wdthout wait Ing to go anywhere—you don't pick up a prize In an agency—how do you know?—quick, like that—just the way Eberly waves his wand—” "Where Is your office?" asked Jo Ellen, while Mona. In a rigid awe. whs watching her face. "The Climax building, on Forty sec ond. Eleventh floor. Eberly produr tions. See here,” and Harold leaned ff rward with the fingers of an ex tended hand drawn sharply together, "twenty-five dollars to start with, but there's more than that—lots more—If he happens—" "If the girl should turn out to be a miracle.” "Don't put It that way. I tell you, the thing's easy. Not too much work Honest. But If you happened to pull a hit—” Jo Ellen laughed. "How would that be done?” "I don’t mean that you’d rush down and climb into his lap. No. Fatal. The minute you see him you'll know. Somebody Independent like you. Understand me. I don't dr ride. He does that. I only hand out a good tip, you might say. I'm sup posed to do more. I’m supposed to have exerrised profound judgment Maybe I have. If I have, that's a hit for me. Not that he'll snv so. Hr takes my miracles for granted—but If you're right you II like him. Get that? He’s a remarkable man.” "Was he brought up on a farm?" Harold stared. "On a farm? No. He was born In the Fourth ward. Must he be born on a farm?” "He mustn't." said Jo Ellen. If Mona had been awed by a curl oils look of fascination in the pres ence of adventure that appeared in Jo Ellen's eyes, she was completely dazed when Jo Ellen turned to her to remark, “If I took that, you could have Mr. Trapp." Mona’s pale face grew paler, as if she sat at the feet of supreme <1 "Eberly'll be there from two o'clock Why not give him the onceover’ There'd be nothing disorderly about that. Plain business. It doesn’t mat ter about my being fresh, or any thing you might think I am. The great thing is getting people together. Ask anyhody about Eberly. Even his enemies 'll say he's square. My name's Shaffer." "I’ll go to see him," said Jo Ellen, “if you’ll tell me one thing.” “It’s a bargain. ' and Shaffer’s eye brows went up again. N, ; "Do I look like a stenographer?” “O well!—" Shaffer's tired grin flickered for a moment. "In any of these restaurants at noon there’s an 80 per cent chance that . you are. That's all there was to It. If you ever really knew me I might take the risk of telling you what I thought you looked like. I won’t say It now I’ve admitted I’m desperate. And choosing when you're desperate Isn’t any compliment. I know that. But I hate to fall down with Kherly. Tou'll hate to do that whan you knoV him. A. K. C. B. says, I thank you. And my apologies to you also.'1 added Shaffer, glancing toward Mona as he got up._•_ VIII. That Shaffer’* connubial anxieties had been deeply distracting wa» con- , firmed by the gray haired woman whom Jo Ellen found in the office of^ the Eberly Productions. (To Be Continued Tomorrow.) On and Off—the Green. By Briggs v 1 $ _ y* THE NEBBS /VOU l-'MW ' acsT aux s>xs.ooo \s \ k LOT Or'(^ONEY_I'0 ) QWWEft HfWlL (\ WOSa^NO VNttH SMt&pOO VNTHEBftNK \~\V\f\U ONE. \aJ\TM At^ULUON/ \\N H\£ MINO --— IA I TO HAVE AND TO HOLD. Directed for The Omaha Bee by Sol Hess /yes - AND (JUST WHEN THE ray of light COYE S THROUGH THE CLOUDS YOU POLL DOWN \ THE SHADES ! YOU'VE got YE PEGGED FOR A Successful failure But ill fool you and When YOU'RE R\D\nG AROUND IN YOUR UYQUSNE DON'T TELL EVERYBODY YOU V FOUND \T VN YOUR STOCKING CHR\STYAS - cyoRn\NG 1 — Barney Google and Spark Plug It May Be the North Pole for All Barney Knows. Drawn for The Omaha Bee by Billy DeBeck fs/^UNSWINE •I'K OESlOEO THAT WE ALL V K=3 NEEO A VACATION • "YOU AND T NEEO A \ rest • SPARKY AMO RUDY NEED ThE SAME, j : Tv,,*6 . wje Gotta get away from the J f= n-rv TUlS SOMMER • GO SOMEWAER6 / W) That S COOL ano do some mokJT.m& w( and FISHING * COME ON, WE’LL SROoT J g( OMER 1® Th6 depot ANO dll Euy they \railroad tickets • IfirS-ti Jssr if in •< U1MAT PLACE. VOUAE UAlKIuG A30LJT- UjHAT \ THE MON'S. *? BRINGING UP FATHER -'u.,'R',?ro„„. Draw" for Th* .?”»!■■ Bee by McM,nu> 7 i & 0 JERRY ON THE JOB THE UNAPPRECIATIVE BOSS Drawn for The Omaha Bee by Hoban (Copyright 1924) "The Boss is A8oirr>5 hottest j r_. / -okW<3 1 BIS*. 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