Image provided by: University of Nebraska-Lincoln Libraries, Lincoln, NE
About The Omaha morning bee. (Omaha [Neb.]) 1922-1927 | View Entire Issue (Aug. 13, 1924)
JO ELLEN By ALEXANDER BLACK• copyright. i»:«. _1_i (Continued From Ymtardav.t Arnold Pearson and Ben Bogert had helped with the moving. Arnold took tho responsibility of Marty quite to himself. His first notion was that he should wheel Marty the whole way. It would be a stunt. "We'd get a lot of fun out of it,” he said. But counsel prevailed against such an adventure. The cab appeared as more practical. There was a story in ths cab journey, on the evening be fore the day of the moving van. They had been bumped by a giant truck that utterly wrecked the cab without, it seemed, doing worse than astonish the two who were inside. Transferring Marty to another cab, in particular getting him free of the wrecked one, was lively material for narrative. When Jo Ellen entered her changed home Marty was sitting expectantly at a window that opened upon the southern sky. The rooms were blaz 1ugly bright compared with the Nine teenth street flat, despite the stuffy curtains and lowered shades. There was the luxurious smell of a prepared dinner. Simms senior re quired a good deal of steak and onions. These proclaimed themselves. “We waited the limit,” said Mrs. Simms when she saw Jo Ellen. “Fath er Isn't much on waiting for meals." “You're just in time," Marty an nounced. XI. Jo Ellen scurried to the completion of any unfinished details at the table. “You might carry In those pota toes," and Mrs. Simms, after a last critical jab at tho steak, indicated with a fork the dish in the open gas *bvcn. , The dinner dishes being disposed or, Marty displayed the ingenious run way his father had called the car penter to build, by which the wheel chair could slip over the sill and step at the main roof door. The sky was overcast, but the panorama of the bay and rivers swung awesomely. At sundown a scarlet streak over New Jersey cut through the purple of the sky. The parapet was like the bulwarks of a ship that sailed through misty splendors. north rolled the wave lines of Man hattan, in enormous slaty swirls, breaking here at the south Into' a surf of roofs whose spray glittered against the clouds, the whole fixed as in some cataleptic crisis of a dream. The spectacle hurried Jo El len's breath. She embarked anew. . ■ ■ — 1 *" s » New York --Day by Day / *■ ————— By O. O. McINTVRK. New York. Aug. 13<—The y»P wagon barker* finally landed me. I never pass their Broadway stands un, noticed. Their passengers are recruit ed from those who wear suspenders, vest pocket toothbrush, barrel cuffs • and shoestring ties. I had left a restaurant In Times Square and was standing on the curb thumbing my arm pits when a vase lined youth sidled up to me: “Going right out. Mister! Fast car to Chlna town and the Bowery!" Then in an Insinuating whisper: “See the wicked ’ side of a great city!” T paid my dollar and sat among the patient women “decoys” who Unit until the sightseeing tour starts, then thev alight and wait for Its return. Hokum is the barker's credo. He gives a rasping glamor to a prosiac tour as he buttonholes visitors from Hinky Dink, Kan., and Big Pump. Neb. One hour after I purchased my ticket tlie “grand tour" started. The barker became the megaphone ci cerone and sat up front. As we swung down lower Broadway he said: •■We are leaving the Great White Way. Kach light represents a broken heart." His voice was loud and xylo phonic. On Fourteenth street he pointed out Tammany Hall with: “That s the place where they make president*, senators and govenors." His Bowery knowledge is like the vicar’s egg, a hit rotten in spots. He pointed out McGulrk's Suicide Hall ilve blocks before we came to it. ' The Bowery," he said, “is the home of thugs and thieves. Not a day goes by without a series of murders. It Is the wickedest place In ibd world.” The Bowery has fewer murders, black jacking and thieving than any other section of the city utherwlso In? was the precisionlst. The “opium den” in Chinatown was a prop affair, no doubt, maintain ed by the sightseeing agency. Sprawl ed out one of the bunks was a thin fellow, his face painted a gastly yel low. He was dreamily puffing a long pipe which contained, no doubt, bull _ durham. When I told the yap wagon barker I thought I would return to the mid town by subway he said: “All right do so at your own risk.” He was so in earnest about it that he almost had ms walking in the middle of the street—looking back every fifth step. The trouble with the men who bal lyhoo for sightseeing tours is they regard every fare a* a “sucker." As a matter of fact the passenger en joys a long and comfortable ride at the cheapest price in town outside of the subway and elevated. New York ■ophistlcates may attribute dull mindedness to those who are patron* of the rubberneck carts but I know no better way to enjoy a trip to the Bowery, Chinatown or Coney Island. Kven If you do not believe the barker he is amusing. The man who is considered ihs most expert turf writer in New York lias never wagered a penny on the ponies. He Is a native of Kentucky and learned early to admire fine horse flesh. He has picked out the highest average of winners In town and statisticians have figured out that a $10 bet a day for any month In the year on almost any race would have made a small for tune. The expert says that once he became a turf gambler his judgment might win for a while,” he said, but In the end I would lose." And he adds: “No one has ever successfully beat the ponies. It can't be done." It ran t be done.” The Algonquin remains the haunt of the young Intellectuals. They are there every noonday wisecracking about the whence of the how or the Hewer economics in Hither Tndla. The young Isdy Intellectuals have I heir lorgnettes to lift at the circular hair cut. • (Covy right. 1 There were many things to be don* on this first evening, tor there was the reconciling of the furnitdtre ol two households—the elemental outfit of the newlyweds, and the parents! accumulations with their sanctioned ugliness.’’ Of mere space there was plenty, tor the apartment seemed tc nave an extraordinary multiplication of rooms, some of them occupied only by barrels and left-overs. Yet placing anything appeared to challenge some thing else. Even in what had beer Marty’s room, which was now to be his and Jo Ellen's, there were deli cate questions. His mother thought the bed already there was better than their new one, Jo Ellen did not think so, but Marty had agreed with his mother before the time cnme for Jc Ellen’s opinion, and Jo Ellen decided to evade debate. Marty liked his old bureau. There was, however, room for the new dresser also, so that this could be reserved for Jo Ellen. Before each decision Marty hovered in a flushed excitement, his eves mov ing apprehensively from Jo Ellen tc his mother. His mother was very sparing of words, but Jo Ellen found that her silence could sometimes push harder than anything said. You nl ways knew what she favored or didn’t favor. Father Simms Tjad no opinions on furniture beyond/the special stuffed leather chair he sat in. After finish ing two evening papers and most of a large black cigar, he asked amiably whether there was anything he could shove around by way of experiment, remarking, at the same time, that one of the men would be up in the morning to make final disposition of the heavier stuff as the critics might elect. At nine o'clock he went off to a political club that often engaged the second half of his evening. “Isn’t this a great view?” cried Marty at their Mdroom window. "Wonderful,” Jo Ellen admitted. He held her hand while they peered toward the bay, then placing an arm about her hips. Her waist was high from his position in the chair. "I’d bet big money you’re going to like it here.” Evidently he might be thinking mostly about the view. She couldn't be sure. Meanwhile the elements of their first home were scattered. You might say that their first home was quite rubbed out. He seemed to be vastly impressed by the recovery of his old bureau. There were other texts fer elation. , “Do you know,” he said, "I'm go ing to restring the old fiddle, and have the piano tuned.” He noticed that she did not respond quickly, and opened his lips with a questioning sign, then thought better of comment. He would not ask her to get the fiddle strings; hut he should have them. "I'm going to help Pop jylth his books,” he added. "That’s fine,” said Jo Ellen. There could be no doubt of her satisfaction. This at least had gone over big. He elaborated the Idea of helping his father, as If to follow up a good Im pression; yet he soon discovered by oblique scrutiny, that she was prob ably not hearing him. "Guess you feel a little strange here, this first night,” he said. She turned away from the window to busy herself again. "Funny thing”—she spoke from the region of her dresser—‘T was just thinking of Myrtle Fleck.” "Cooling off in the Wayward.” “Locked up like a criminal.” "Do you mean she really oughtn’t to be there?” “I mean I’m awfully sorry.” Marty grunted. It was a sound strangely suggestive of some sound his mother made. "She's just a little tart. You're foolish to be sorry for her.” Jo Ellen turned with a frown and the touch of color under the eyes that usually halted him. “I'm sorr# for anybody who's locked up." "O, well”—he reached down to pull off the slippers from his limp feet— "they'll probably be sorry and get her out.” He seemed to have a fresh thought, with his head bent over, and looked up quickly. “That's why you’re sorry for me, isn't it?” “We're both sort of locked up.” "Not you!” He was holding a slip per and staring. "Not you. You're free. I’m the one. You don't appre elate being free. That’s what I think sometimes. You don't appreciate it. Suppose your legs—” “I don’t think we ought to quarrpl on our first night in this house.” Jo Ellen spoke with a desperate quiet. “Who’s quarreling? I'm just tell ing you how you are—that ft s me that’s locked up.” “I know.” "Locked up. And you can gel away. Get away to mix with a crowd that doesn’t think of people like me a crowd thiit’s changing you—” Jo Ellen caught him by the shoul der. “If you don’t want to change me you’d better—” They both heard the sound at the Second Honeymoons I You Brute! '» reallv think Youl> LET ME. OROUJN ITV5 JUST A MIRACLE. Th^-T (Vjdidn: st_ i ■■■■■■■■MaHIHHHHHHHHHHHBnBHBHBHMHj Eg partly open door. Mrs.' Simms stood at the sill. "Are you two wrangling?" Marty's face took on an expression of fright. "Wrangling! O no! We were only —only discussing something. That's all." *'I see.” Mrs. Simms’ voice struck Jo Ellen as clammy. It trailed off as it to express apology, or as If it were in passing. The Interruption reduced Marty to dumbness. The look of fear was slow to fade out. On the following day Jo Ellen was able to leave the office at five rf’clock, and reached the roof early enough to join her mother-in-Utw in the prep aration of the dinner. Her assistance seemed to be taken for granted, and to give great satisfaction to Marty. The picture of wife and mother bus ied in the evocation of a meal lm pressed him as beautiful. It was the birthday of Simms senior, and the father brought forth a bottle of rye whisky from the house stock to which he was constantly making sacramen tal additions. Marty’s eyes glistened at sight of the bottle. Hlmins cor dially reviewed the group as he com merited on the superior quality of the liquor—the real Imported stuff such as you couldn't expect from the ordinary bootleggers. Simms took hts own drink neat. Marty concocted a highball in which there was a strong Infusion. Mrs. Simms accepted a slender allowance. When Simms lift ed hi* eyebrow* at Jo Ellen and mada a gesture with the bottle. Marty in terjected an assurance that Jo Ellen never tasted liquor. (To Be Continued Tomorrow ) Fetching little handkerchief* hav« a pocket for a tiny powderpuff. THE NEBBS HORATIO, THE DEMON WATCHDOG Directed for The Omaha Bee by Sol Hess back, to NJORtVWtUl WUERX VN& Tins TATWrul. • NlBUCK e>o&T PUMPING .—_ AND $W\PPlNG NOWGt f DON'T BE 60 6TINGV. HORATIO * ) WHO’S GO^G TO MISS, A UTTLE \ VwPorERl mr.ncb&wont , ) —-i CA>RE. - WE'6 LlBERM. - < O'DN'T HE GWE TOU _ / K-^HOUS&NO DOUftRS?/ knO STW OFT » fcND ) VN-THE HOUSE S am?y /Gooo-STL .REPRESENT AT WE • l ciUbT \ / HAD A U\CC C60LREmESH\NGDRVNK \ or NOX.AGE AND I MADE A AND \ IT rr COMES TRUE VOU’REGO'NG to I \ REPRESENT ALLTHE MVSERT ON EAtHMy r ? r> Barney Google and Spark Plug They’re Coming at Barney From All Points of the Compass. Urawn tor he tSS 7 1 7 * _ —--— -—t—i .—7 T~TTZ I . / MR <J0o6Lt IM JOO6E. tippy FROM WASMlNGINTOM.t MY TUJO DAUGHTERS WERE ARE CRAZY ASCOT YOUR C.PARK PLUG • COULD YOU POSSHJLY ARRANGE Tc HAME This next pace with That rosSiam / I’ORSE RUN off AT THE GAPITAl %_ VMS MADE AN EXCELLENT track /ill ask OOUlM Tt*ERE . MY DAU6HTeR^ / GARON VWIlL GE DELIGHTED To HAME /SCAREMOFF / You cancel The Milwaukee pretty p/fiLC _ ___ , 1/ SURE HE CAW I FIBNG -- ARRANGE W - IT JUDGE ME AU.Mtt.COOCV-E . X ( D'ON T CMUST IN ^ESK, - KNOvi VOO HAD ™ «'««** *£<** ( COMPANY DENVER \. RACE Ok)T OE.RE » ' . _ _ WRAT "**> ? 130 WON'* UNO T INK IT OVER. ' • 40 / (SOAM <-»N«te OOUJM 'N f ASTltr*Ta | \ AVT VO AtC I* V® i V daT WUS5IAN WACF - \ DOtuM »M _S V TfeUNtMt* \ \ SOH • > w# [I - BRINGING UP FATHER jj C^yn^fv*^ K.ng Features Syndrcate. Inc referred _£ L J 1 Registered SEE JIGGS AND MAGGIE IN FULL* U. S. Patent Offlen PAGE OF COLORS IN THE SUNDAY DEE Drawn for The Omaha Bee by McManus (Copyright 2924) -—.mi n fTTrmrTTTTTTTmr- --— -TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTirm • f ' J I NEVER bAw bOCH A HOUbE ALL XOU T[ HAVE TO DO lb bit —' ^ DOWN Ant the DOOR BELL RlNCib’ ,-' • -— ,/M y_»_J J+- ■ ■■■ L AH' MR JiO<Vb-lM I YOU CERTAINLY I LUCKY TO FIND i are I NEVER I I VOO IN - AM l )| HAVE ANY ,_'' --j I^OT° LUCK.’ ^ , * 1 P -v-iii !;! ItiN T IT NICE MSQ ^L<bH^h?o T ® ^ QUIET HERE L-^ZS l A , ci INI THE W,TE 111111 j [t> A.WA.V- J HONESTY PAYS. —— - ■ - 1 — ■■ Drawn for The Omaha Bee by Hoban <C«pjri*ht 1*24) 0' W0i» fouwO CT RiQfcT IE 'M IW OV^CE — xi vjkm n vjtr Amt, Dwf 00? . /J _I r Sbas*BbT "**e LA?r “TWt 1 tboso A Oou.*fc op vbuw Mou ler mz it ^tq^a/w Mo^rrv. By Briggs AH*H - Co IT ALONt * mV AQtvvS ARe ABOUT BROKE Trvikjq To H6i_o You oP_y 'IT>_. , ; ABIE THE AGENT Drawn for The Omaha Bee by Hershfield A Warning to “Sunday” Driwri. K^ouR£ To qo \ : VheaohyN ' **W6 ! ton UKE \ UJTWOUt A TOP COAT ME fcOWY " This, is very h^e to 1 Treacherous weather / \ouorry" I V at this Time of / . V! .y ■ ■■ ■! ^.1.^1,,,^ ■ ■■ ■■ ■ ■ ' OV 1 COOUbKi'r ' ' SPCfck E^JFKi WITH A 1 toms?£R * i ll v l *ro UJRl'lt EUERfTHlf^, Jr I A For Tv^e weKTFEUJ ft sS^\>ANt u Such a Colo Nou cau'y speak\ H/\? . You L0OUL\>(si"T TAKE N\V ) \ AbLMCE ABOUT THE COAT* YOU RE / A^AT healthy Guy ha? 5 J r A^lrsr—zzl *'. ..w ** • . . • •