I, THE KING
By WAYLAND WELLS WILLIAMS.
(Copyright, 1924.)
-- ——__
(Continued From Mtardsy)
"Mama,'' said Kit. ‘‘you're the
beautlfuliest lady I ever saw!"
Marcelline, her job done, seized him
by the shoulders and mauled him
about, tickling and fondling him, and
talking the while in her Incredibly
rapid French. “Ah, ii salt bien, le
jeune monsieur! Volla le bon gout!
11 y en aura blen d'autres qul dlront
la meme chose de soir!”
"J’espere qu'lls ne le dlront pas,"
said Mrs. Newell, laughing.
Marcelline threw up her hands from
the elbows, seemingly annoyed, for
some inexplicable reason. "Oh, ces
Americalnes!" she said, blustering.
She put a fur cloak on Mama, who
fhen stooped and kissed Kit. “Good
night, my angel. Remember to go
and see Papa. He’s in the dining
room."
The house seemed strangely quiet
and empty after she was gone. Kit
went into the dining room and found
Papa sitting alone at the table eating
and reading a newspaper, Kit sat
down on a chair at the side. His
father looked up. *
> “Hello! How is it you're not in
bed?"
"1 don't go till eight o'clock."
"That so? Quite a seasoned roue
you're getting to be. Well, what you
been doing?”
Kit told him. His father listened
vaguely; soon he returned to his
paper, which was propped up against
a claret bottle l>efore him. Presently
Kit ceased talking, and thought. The
silence of the room, the drab clothes
of Papa, the noiseless comings and
goings of Nevins, it was all so differ
ent from the bustle and beauty of
Mama In her bedroom. Men were so
different, so uninteresting, so unre
sponsive. His father had said noth
ing at nil about the kittens.
He slipped off his chair and went
to his father. “What? Oh, going to
lied. Well, good night. Sonny. Sleep
tight.” He kissed Kit briefly and re
turned to his paper.
“I like Pajtu," Kit told Nana ex
pansively as he got into bed, “but I
love Mama!”
V.
Kit had a birthday; he was going to
1« seven. There was a party, and the
Hoffingtons and the Mercers and a
lot of other children came.
Strings of different colors had been
wound all over two floors of the
house. You started in the big draw
ing room; each child was given a
string and told to follow it. There
was a present hidden at the other
end. and he who first reached it (no
breaking the thread, mind!) would get
not only the present, but a prize.
They played games for a while, and
then they went into the dining room
r
New York
--Day by Day
By o. o. McIntyre
New York, Oct. 12.—A page from
the diary of a modern Samuel Pepys:
I'p betimes, a fairish day. to a break
fast of sliced pineapple and calf
brains with scorched butter sauce, as
brave as ever I ate. So to my stint
.with great zest.
Gil Boag and Gilda Gray dropped
!n and gave me a noble walking
stick they brought from Vienna and
my wife some lace kerchiefs and
much fooling, rag, tag and bobtail.
To luncheon with Archie Andrews
grid our wive* and thence to the
sludlo of Dean Cornwall and he show
ed us some fine paintings and I deem
him foremost of all the illustrators.
Later all of us to Greenwich by
benzine buggy, dropping Dean off at
Maniaroneck, and to the Indian li.ir
bar Yacht club, but the service so
slothful we put liack to the Weslohos
ter-Blitmore for dinner, lloino late
and to bed.
The fashionable Westchester
crowds are interesting to watch. The
men 1 ronzed and clad in knickers
and jaunty blazers. The ladies—bob
bed, blithe and beautiful. Westches
ter dines when weather permits al
fresco at the several picturesque
spots which provide enchanting vis
tas of the sound and rolling green
sward. The terraces have delightful
little rose arbors for the love birds.
The cafe menus offer all the delica
cies—Astrakhan caviare, pate de foie
gras, and all the rare French sauces.
The older folk as well as the young
seem to have been pepped up with
surreptitious cocktails at the dinner
hour. Afterward the young troop
sway to moonlight bathing parties
and the older folks settle down to
bigji stake bridge. The talk Is or
yachts, stock markets, the high price
of chartreuse and injustice of the In
come tax. There Is also a soupcon of
dowagers—great ladies who never
swerve in their majestic stride. They
are given to lorgnettes and shep
herd's crooks and are continually
•scoring their husbands for having ac
cepted just one more In Bill's room.
Th*e self abasement of flunkies at
fashionable resorts around New
York is startling. They fairly grovel
to wheedle the tip. They are rather
important looking nobodies in gold
braid, plush coats and patent leather
’loots. And so many ditches In the
World waiting to be dug.
it Is quite obvious—and don't ask
more silly questions—that I do not
I elong to the Westchester set. Still
It is nice to look In on them now and
then. One leaves with a greater re
spect than ever for suspenders and
corn beef and cabbage.
Not so long age a lady In Kansas
wrote me: "You. living ut the Ititz,
and twitting fashionable folk!" I
admit I am miscast, but when I
moved there It happened to be the
only hotel in town with sense enough
to house well-bred, small dogs. So I
stayed, on and on spurred by my
Indomitable will to achieve an, ambi
tion. I want to muster courage to
speak to the elevator starter who. In
the evening, wears brocaded knicker
bockers and slippers with sliver
/ buckles.
Living at the Rltz zings a few Il
lusions about swank. I notice there
are more patrons Interested in where
Ben Turpin's next film is showing
Ilian there are patrons who wonder
If Chaliapin's voice Is In good form.
And speaking of opera and those
who yell it, the Metropofltan is be
ing all washed up for the fray. The
>r*w Y'ork season is nearing. Then
In a few weeks they Hro off to Florida
■gain. Hard life, hard life.
(Cupyiicht. 11-4./
and sat dowfa at little tables and
ate Ice cream and sat down at little
tables and ate Ice cream and cake
and candy and pulled crackers. After
that they returned to the drawing
room; some one played the piano and
those who knew how to. danced. The
others Just ran around.
Kit was one of'the latter. He en
joyed it hugely, but presently he
knew he was not enjoying it so much.
He was beginning to feel very queer
indeed. When that passed lie ran
about as before, but not because he
wanted to. It was the thing to do.
He wanted to lie down, hut you
couldn't lie down at a party, with
all these children having a good time.
No „ one noticed! Why wouldn't
some one see he was feeling queer,
and take him upstairs? He couldn't
tell any one. He strayed by his moth
er, pawing her with his hands, but
she only said, “Having a good time,
honey?' 'and smiled. He sat down
and pretended*to play a game he had
been given.
At last the children began to go.
He could hold out now, he thought.
They laughed and chattered in the
hall, shaking hands with him and
Mama and saying they’d had a very
nice time. When the last one was
out of the door, he rushed up to the
nursery.
"Oh, I feel sick!" he cried. "Nana,
I feel so sick . . .”
Oh, the joy of it, being able to be
sick without shame, wholeheartedly!
After all was o'er tie luy on the bed,
gasping, but happy. "Oh, Nana,” he
moaned, "it's almost as nice as eat
ing!”
His mother came in and was in
formed of the misfortune. "He was
feeling very queer for some time,
ma’am, he said, but he wouldn't come
upstairs and be sick because of the
party. He win such a. little gentle
man he couidn't hear to leave his
little guests till the very end.”
His mother sat down on the bed,
beaming on him. "Was that it, dar
ling? Mother's brave boy! He wouldn't
leave his party! He was a sweet boy,
that’s what he was!"
Soft as down were her fingers on
his throbbing head. His happiness be
came mixed; this praise was sweet,
but it wasn't quite deserved. He
hadn’t been brave about anything;
he had simply not wanted to show
signs of sickness before all those chil
dren. It would have been a humilia
tion. Still, it didn't matter much.
He let it pass, and accepted the
homage.
VI.
Nana was going away, home, to
England. Her mother had died and
her father was all alone, and she had
to go and take care of him.
“It's just as well," Kit heard his
father say. He supposed he meant
it was Just ns well for Nana's father
to have Nana as her mother.
There was talk of a German gov
erness. Nana began it. Whenever
Kit crossed her she would say: "Well,
I dare say you’ll like your German
governess a great deal better! Hmf!"
and wipe her eyes.
One afternoon Mrs. New ell took Kit
out in the broom alone, and told him
they were going to Aunt Emmy's to
meet the new governess.
Aunt Emmy was Mrs. Newell’s only
•fister, and she lived in an old brick
house onj West Eighth street. She
was a little older than her sister, and
much stouter, and not beautiful at
all. She sat smiling behind her tea
table as they came in and waved her
left hand at an angular being in
black, with largo red hands and a
large red face. “This is Fraulein
Rock," she said. "Fraulein, this is
my sister, Mrs. Newell, and the young
man."
SHOOK nupus Willi me iii.k'r mill
red Indy, who put her other hand
on his shoulder, it felt heavy and
unfamiliar there, quite mannish.
"Would you like me to come and
live with you?" she said in a guttural,
halting voire.
"I don't think so," said Kit
promptly.
Aunt Emmy, laughed and the Her
man lady grew even redder. "That
isn't polite. Kit." said Mr*. Newell,
not laughing. "Manners I* one of the
things you'll have to teach him, I’m
afraid. Franlein.”
l "I shall try my best," said Frau
lein. Her voice sounded grim.
Kit could not see where manners
came into it. The woman had asked
a ridiculous question, to be answered
.„ k, Ricv rpii It. Assuredly
he did not want this black and red
creature in the place of the g-Nitle
•Mina.
Hut she came and was installed in
the nursery the very afternoon of the
day when Nana left weeping for Eng
land. Her hands were rough as well
as red. and he hated the feeling of
them when she bathed him. Also she
immediately began to talk in her in
comprehensible language, apparently
expecting him to understand her.
Also she took an unworthy and triv
ial attitude toward some of his most
sacred arrangements.
"She wouldn't let Pollux in," he
told his parents next morning at
breakfast, "even after I'd had my
bath. And she made me say my
prayers kneeling down, and she didn't
put out my blue blanket. And when
I spilled water out of my bath she
slapped me.”
■ r obeoMn't wonder," said Mr. New
ell out of his eternal newspaper, "but
t Emmy had picked up some
thing rather good, for once. It
would be extraordinary if we were
to find one jewel in that collection.”
That afternoon Kit went to the
park with Krauleln and Pollux. He
introduced her to the Hoftlngtons’
nursie, as his mother had told him
to, hut their conversation was not
spontaneous. They sat stiffly on a
bench, Krauleln following Kit with
a hawk’s eye, and replying in mono
syllables to Nursie's offerings. A. -
parently Krauleln wasn't going to tie
popular in the Mall. Well, lie didn't
wonder.
In the course of the afternoon Kit
got away with the Mercers' nurse
and undid her bonnet strings. She
was a great friend of his, and gentle
as Nana. She did not object strenu
ously, though he knew she did not
like it. After the first time Krauleln
told him not to do it. Of course, he
paid no attention; when the fit seized
him he came running hack and pulled
the white strings again. Krauleln in
an instant was on her feet, stamping,
glowering, roaring. Kit danced away
on the grass, as was his custom,
“yah!" he cried. “Catch me!"
Now rrauleln really used her voice.
The Mall rang; children stopped play
ing, nurses looked up from their
work in amazement. "Komm!" she
roared. "Komm gleiehl Wcnn Ich
sage Komm, dnnn kommst du! Haste
vsrstehen ? . . . Nicht? Da tin word
h'h dir 'mal lernen, du ungezogenes
Dingle!”
Without tlie slightest haste, still
bellowing, she strode out toward Kit.
Ha watched her, paralyzed. It was
not In him to run away; his legs sim
ply would not take him. "Komm
flier!" said the dragon, stopping. Kit
came. She seized him with one band
and held him firmly; with the other
she belabored his ears, boxing them
soundly, right and loft, till his head
swam and Ills eyes were blind with
tears. "So, so, so, mein Htlbe! Ich
werde dor timh zelgen, dir! Wills!
du? Wills! du? l)u, du . . . Jetzt
gehst du dleh entsehuldlgen. Komm!
Tell the nurrrse you are sorry!”
She took him before the Mercers’
Mary and held him there, by the
ear. “I’m sorr.v, Mary,” said Kit, his
head down, his tears falling and
splashing on the pavement. Then the
dragon let him go and he staggered
away, wiping his face on his sleeve.
After that the Mall warmed up' to
Fraulein perceptibly. Nurses and
governesses came up to pass the time
of day or ask her advice on when to
"turn.'' Children eyed her with awe;
to win a smile from her was to win
distincton.
Kit’s attitude toward her was less
one of hate than might he supposed;
it was more that of a scientist who
has discovered a totally new. danger
ous and immensely powerful element.
She was something new in people.
The contrast between her handling of
this affair and Nana's conduct of
the similar one a few years back did
not escape him for a moment. Un
reservedly. though lie hated to do it,
he must yield Fraulein the palm.
But his respect soon mixed with
a quite real liking. Fraulein was
never unjust nor was she always tin
pleasant; ill time of need she nevri
failed and when in the mood for it
she could he affectionate. But above
all she was effective. It occurred tu
Kit that it might not he a had idea
to he the sort of person she was if.
by any imprntiable cimnee. he ever
grew up.
In a month lie was talking and
heing read to in German. He gained
a colloquial knowledge of tho lan
guage which never entirely left him.
and stood him in good stead on one
occasion.
CHAPTER II.
1.
At the age of live Kit had hegun
going to kindergarten at Miss Koch's
scho#l, and continued In the », '
mary department" of the same invc
tutlon. When he was nine he left
there ami went to Mi^ Carmichael
on Hast Sixty-third street, which wa
a very different matter. There v. < i
only boys there, and they all called
each other by their last names.
(To Be Continued Tomorrow.)
THE NEBBS IN BEAUTIFUL NORTHVILLE. Directed for The Omaha Bee by Sol He..
(Copyright 19-1)
ATTORNEY
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( TOD AM WiTwA HEART PULL Of GRATITUDE \
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INDUCT PEACEFUL NORThv/ILLE THAN MAKE
A HONORED THOUSAND A NEAR inThGNOiEv /
SMOKY NERVE RACKING PLACE- MOURE)
&0 CROWDED MOUVE GOT TO SVAnO IN LINE J
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COAL TO MAKE ELECTRIC UGWTS POP
PEOPLE LOOKING POR ALL NVGV-IT \
RESTAURANTS AND AMUSEMENTS.ANO j
SLEEP*M&'.0l>R'NG WALT OPTUE BEAUTIFUL j
Sunlight - tou polks Got. no RESPEoVy
por a Clock a-p all
(Copyhg)tt7T&2Cby^Th« Bell Syndicate, Inc )
Barney Google and Spark Plug BARNEY SURELY WAS EXCITED. Drawn for The Omaha. Bee by Billy DeBeck
A LOT OP THE Wise BRANEGANS
"Toiun Think this European trip
I'm going lo TAKE- IS HOAKOM •
IwEY BURN ME UP , BUT 3uST
waitn iuey find out that xve
AlREADV MAD PMcTcGRAPM )
taken for oay passport - TAKe /
A look, buddy, is There. ,
ANYTHING PHONE y ^
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Photos for j
PASS PORT'S
Vou UJA(T
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I
_ >o • 131
BRINGING UP FATHER
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Drawn for The Omaha Bee by McManus
* (Copyright 1921)
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□ OFFICE EITHER THEY TALK
I ABOUT NT SMOKIN' GET WITH
ZJ CXJCjAN OR ELOE tOME ONE
1 ALWAYS OFFTRiiN' ME A
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I© '»J< by | NY L FciTUAt StBVlCI. InC
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JERRY ON THE JOB PICKING A TOUGH ONE. Drawn for The Omaha Bee by Hoban
_ (Copyright 1924)
'■fotfry~1U£ WAV!
vt *S wrtw a * I
MOUMG- WSuSGiKj j
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✓*
When a Feller Needs a Friend By Bligg^
ABIE THE AGENT Drawn for The Omaha Bee by Hershfield
It's Human Xatwr After All.
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