I, THE
By WAY LAND W
(Copyri*]
.
(Continued from Yesterday.)
"I like it,” he informed himself. *'I
like the Chino shops and the musty
churches and the department-store
houses and the naked kids and the
Filipino laborers with their funny
peaked hnts. But gee! I really believe
I like my own country most of all 1
see here. It may be the idealisnf of
youth, hut really it would seem that
we'd achieved something beneficial
hull unselfish. The benefits we get
from the naval base and coaling sta
tions and trade can’t be said to out
balance what we've given in peace,
health, education and prosperity, or
what we’ve spent in men and cash to
these, if this is Imperialism,
»ou can call me an Imperialist.”
He took trips down the Bay, to Bos
Banos, to Pagsanjun, to the Taal vol
cano, and wished he were free to go
further afield, to the Mountain Prov
ince or the Southern Islands, and see
for himself the Moros, those Orange
men of the Philippines, to cut his
way with a bolo through primeval
jungle and shoot exotic animals. But
it wasn't to be. Just as the mon
soon rains broke and the heat became
clammy he was assigned for duty to
the Nashua, a superannuated cruiser
of some 8,000 tons burden. Two days
after he joined she steamed down the
hay one night in the teeth of a hot
wet wind, and Manila was a memory.
II.
He had rather hoped to be sent on
gunboat duty in China, to poke his
nose a thousand miles up an ancient
liver and see nt close quarters the
most numerous of the world's fami
lies. But this would Hhotv him some
thing equally interesting, and as
naval duty it was lietter. If—and
rumor had it that this was the case—
there was a German raider alive in
the Pacific, there was a chance of
action. He wished this could be so.
though the Nashua as a fighting
proposition was not inspiring of con
fidence. She listed, she creaked in
a dead calm; her eight-inch turret
guns had the worn, thin, refined air
of Colonial spoons. Wardroom gos
sip had It that they had not been
bore-sighted since 1900.
Without any one's knowing, or car
ing much, where they were bound
they rounded Mindanao and steamed
eastward into the unnamed sea that
lies between Micronesia on the north
and Melanesia on the south. Kit was
aware, through the reading he did on
the side, that they were leaving one
world for another. Malaysia for Poly
nesia, the world of Conrad for that of
Stevenson and Melville. Both were
fascinating, and since neither was
war it made little difference. Duties
aside—and he found that for a nor
mally Intelligent person they could be
largely aside—he felt as if he were
traveling for pleasure on a blank
ticket, destination unknown.
On and on iney plowed, facing the
sunrise, amid dally spouts of rain
and the ubiquitous odor of the open
sea, so different from the familiar
“salt” air of tidal marshes and the
same here as anywhere, except that
New York
—Day by Day—
- -'
By 0. 0. M'INTYRK.
New York, Oct. 24.—For five years
he has lived In the shadow of the
death house at Sing Sing. The other
day he walked out free. What little
Is left of his crumpled life Is to be
centered on his wife, who stood stead
fastly by him during the desolate tra
• vail.
I never realized before how gray
prison walls break a man's spirit. In
other days our paths crossed. Then
he was a gay carefree fellow whose
career stretched before him promis
ingly. He was vibrant and alive with
the flush of youth. There was a
spring to his step.
And I called on him in a shabby
rooming house on St. Nicholas avenue.
It seemed to me only the ashes re
mained. He spoke in a voice a shade
above a whisper. His attitude was
one of pathetic servility. His fingers
had shrunk to bird like claws.
There is a quotation from Burns
which reads:
"In durance vile here must I wake
and weep.
And all my frowsy couch in sorrow
steep.”
His occasional efforts to smile were
v.-isps of lugubrious grins. Free, he
feared to go out on the streets. At
rlusk I persuaded him to take a
stroll. A full moon was flooding the
streets. Not once did he look up.
I tried to tell him he must get a
grip on himself. He owed much to
Ills wife. "I’m completely beaten,"
he said. And with a shudder: “I am
afraid." This man In an impulsive
burst of anger had struck a friend
and killed him. Drink was largely
responsible.
Society had exacted Its price. Yet
somehow 1 could not help but feel
that this fellow might have been
spared the bitterness that Is his. At
his door, he said: "You've been kind,
but it's no use. My life Is as much
over as though I were dead.”
Next to the skyline the most color
ful picture. New York presents is
Fifth avenue shop windows. Nof
another street presents such kaleido
scopic contrasts—painting, sculpture,
jewelry, bronzes, antiques, pet dogs
of 10 varieties, pop-eyed goldfish with
tails three times as long as their
bodies, the styles of famous designers,
fine bindings, first editions, old silver,
slamps, coins, hour glasses, and even
the Jinkle jumble of the five and 10.
Old Dan the Telescope Man, a bit
of professional gold turned to dross,
bad the surprise of his life while
showing the stare at 5 cents per peep
in Bryan park the other night. A
man rame up to behold the heavenly
wonders. He presented a bill. Old
Dan fumbled for change. "Keep it.
Pop,” said the patron. It was a brand
new hundred dollar bill. Anil Dan
has not been seen at his stand since.
But the patron is there nightly look
ing for him. He thought It was a
dollar.
Hasty Kemp, the tramp poet, calls
Pis home In the village "The Oaks"
because there Is not an oak within
a mile of it. In his neighborhood is
Frank Shay's bookshop. Mary Vorse.
the writer, lives nearby; so does
Susan Glaspell, the playwright. It ts
a quiet section with a poet at every
dune, writing, and an artist a top
painting. The village is the only
spot left In New York with a general
store and It Is around the comer from
Kemp's menage. There are rracker
barrel* where the Bohemians sit end
spin tales of hopes and ambitions.
Kemp’s wife, a slight red-haired girl,
la writing her first novel. Whatever
may be said of the village, it Is rich
end deep with color.
(Copyright, JtlO
KING
ELLS WILLIAMS.
it. m«.) '
j
[ It was always warm and always at
the maximum of dampness. In the
constant humidity clothes, even the
lightest, continually- clung to the flesh
and promptly mildewed If left in lock
ers; metal corroded, matches refused
to ignite and briar pipes exuded a
loathly sweat. Kit did not care.
Sometimes the clouds would break and
the ship would lie between a sea and
sky of the most uproarious and In
credible blue. Flying fishes shot in
silver across the waves, dolphins and
bonltas pursuing them on the sur
face. Sunsets and sunrises gorgeous
beyond imagining marked the ends
of the day. At night. If It was clear,
strange stars appeared and the fami
liar ones about the North Pole sank
from sight; the wake of the ship
glowed so bright with phosphorus that
It seemed to cast a shadow. Even
the rain squalls that came lashing
up from the southern quadrant were
beautiful. This sea was an enchant
ed sea; the horizon was the meeting
of curtains that waited only for a
signal to part and reveal the blinding
white of coral beaches, palm-cloaked
mountains shooting into rocky spires
across which languid vapors trailed,
tinkling waterfalls, exuberant flora
and stranger yet cousin peoples whose
natures were Instinct with the spirits
of air and water and the silent, sun
dazed magic of the eternal South.
III.
i\aura, wnere tney first touched,
came as something of a Jolt. This
was excusable, seeing that, it was
new not only to Kit but to the world.
Here Indeed were roaring reefs and
fantastic coral shapes and glassy la
goons lying under brooding palms,
but all this was tenijieieii by wire
less towers, electric lights, a Euro
pean society and industrial activity.
A German Island, German for thirty
years and an object of Interest to its
owners for hardly more than ten,
a treasure of phosphates, the latest
and most astonishing prize of the
Pacific, It had been wrested from
German control In the first year of
the war by the British. The Ger
mans had put up a Rtrong and not
ungallant resistance; they had, when
the warship left, hauled down the
Union Jack and packed the British
garrison off to Ocean Island. Now
the Germans were Interned in Aus
tralia, and the British were quarry
ing and shipping their precious phns.
phates unhampered.
It was odd to see such a well de
veloped and obviously profitable busi
ness flourishing in the dreamy South.
Chinese coolies cut the phosphate
slabs in the quarries and carried
them out on their barks; they were
loaded on narrow-gauge tramways,
carried to the shore and transferred
to the steamers by the most primi
tive means. There was no harbor,
jnd every thing and person coming on
or off the Island had to run the gaunt
let of the eternal surf on the reef In
open boats. These were manned by
continually shouting Kanakas of
sorts, some thin-nosed and yellowish,
others brown and negro-looking. Kit
loved to watch them; they were so
boisterous, so cheery, so willing and.
In the long run, so effective. And
all the time on the green plateau
above the Englishmen lived with
families exactly as they might live
on Wimbledon Common, entertaining
each other at dinner, playing bridge
and getting up Red Cross festivities.
Of all this he had only one short
tantalizing glimpse, for they stayed
less than thirty-six hours. He want
ed to Join the bridge parties In the
neat coral houses in the neat coral
pathed gardens, to learn the Nauruan
lingo, to talk with the Resident about
Imperialism, that queer spontaneous
game of Getting Together in odd cor
ners of the world. But Juniors did
not do that sort of thing. Besides,
the Captain was busy with the Resi
dent. He had called, It was said in
the wardroom, for coal. The ac
counts one heard of the Interview
were diverting; the most popular was
that the Resident had said that there
was no coal to spare, but he would
wireless for a collier from Sydney, if
desired. To which. It was reported,
the Captain replied: “Oh no, don't
bother; I Just thought I might pick
up Borne. I don’t really need It. you
know;" and the Resident riposted:
"What did you think this wa*. Pitts
burgh?”—almost certain fiction, but
entertaining.
And It caused the Junior officers,
Kit with the rest, to turn questioning
eyes on the Captain. He was a Com
mander by rank and Hubert C. Roth
by name; a man in his early fifties
with iron-colored hair, a taciturn dis
position and a roving eye. It began
to he wondered if he were “quite all
there.” They might or might not lie
pursuing a mythical German raider,
and it was quite in order that Junior
officers should not know what was on
foot; but the Impression most of them
got was that he was using the Nashua
a good deal like a yacht. No one
really knew him; no one knew If he
were playing a little game with them
or not: one one was quite sure that
he was the man to conduct whatever
little game the ruling spirits of the
Asiatic Fleet had In mind.
Kit, for one, never knew.
Instead of calling at Ocean Island
for coal, as was generally expected,
they sailed on southeastward. Intel
ligent juniors glanced at the chart
and said "Samoa, of course—Pago
pago.” Some said Suva. It mattered
not in the least what they said, either
as regarded Captain Roth or the
progress of the ship. Presently they
veered east northeast, and the ward
room had it that they were going to
Honolulu—to be scrapped, most like
ly. Kit did not mind. He liked Hono
lulu, and It would certainly be pleas
anter to be scrapped neatly, in port,
than by the wild sea waves.
IV.
One morning he came on deck after
a nap following a night watch and
found they were at anchor in a glis
tening gray sea, with a bright per
manent gleam a mile or so off the
port bow\ A reef. The possibility of
target practice was suggested, but
they had laid to. It appeared, In or
der to do something technical to the
engines. Only the engineers under
stood and they were Intentionally elu
slve about It. Tile morning was idled
away. At noon Kit saw two of the
senior officers vainly trying to make
an observation through the cloud lllm.i
At lunch the Captain—all the offi
cers messed in the wardroom—an
nounced that sounding parties would
l«e sent out. Again target practice
occurred to every one, soundings for
a raft mooring. But. no; the Captain
merely wanted to find-out where they
w-ere. Cloudy weather hod forced
them to run on dead reckoning for
t week pant; they were near a reef,
but it wan not clear which "f two I
or three. Soundings, giving the eon
figuration, would establish the.’ »
whereabouts exaotly.
(To Me foaMjiurd Monday.)
Bee Want Ads Produce KeB.iIts,
THE NEBBS ‘ THE PENALTY OF RICHES. Directed for The Omaha Bcc by Sol Hew
./josr A M\KJUTC.PUOT. DOM'T
/ TA\CL OFF VOUP SHOES -EPMlE WOOD \
/ HAS IWVVTED US TO THE AMALFI ^ \
( ACOEMS TO OAmCE AMO A HVOMLaHT
( LUMCUEOM - TH\S ^ G(^M<jTO BE
\ A LOVELY AFrA\R AM0»T G^ES US
\ A PEEP IMTO MUCE SOCiETW
/WHAT DOWOU^-X /l-WAS> SATlSFiEO^-x
l«p»u "prrp" *> \ho STAY HOfAE WUUX \
» fA,aki?ta tLEEP N WL wLCt STOIGCiUnG \
1 WANT TO SVfcfclr \ /vLONG BUT UO\aJ THAT
AT NlSUT ANO LOOK wl COiMVMG
IN THE DAY T\N\L t ^O^EYl WAKlT TO
WHO’S lOOW^G / LWC-^NCC-USTEN
VFOR PEEPS ? A ^“^VvSSiDfS
’ ^ _r</ M LAST 20 ^EARW
C ( AFTER TEN rC^TY
SUE WAA, DO\WG HER
/OWW HOUSEWORK SHE W&S SO \
TiaEO AT WIGHT THAT VWHEH&HC \
wewt to a picture Show She \
rELL ASLEEP • NOWJ TW&.T.SHE . )
ua&m't ahtthvwgtoOo t Suppose (
Swell Sat sroonO roR tew hojpS )
) rniw - whvlE VM vJORvctwG-_
\ PLAMWtwG 'HMERC )
1 a^^SS>?c'&u{Abs
«V BOUGHT roc «*W &RTWDAV I
are GO^< TQJL AST FOREVER/
Barney Google and Spark Plug Urawntor i he umaha t^ by a.ny uets«*
I'SPtKt' 'E ONE in a NULUCN QAAUEY. MA IL
SHOW VOU TW6 Time of YOUR. UFA . MS S
AS LOOSE OovTU «<S DOUCM AS A tAt«*
FLIVIYER - VNON T LET You AVENO A DIME 5
7 4
I U)Ant To Seno a 7
!?ASLEGRA<M To "SPIKE
HUNT IN LONDON •
Tfeu HIM T>
^HOCT ME passage
MON6V ONjER 7b EUROPE
and Qtvie Mr Regards
To His KID . SEND
IT COLLECT » I U.
STICK AROUND FOR AN
ANSWER
-- ^ _ /P-2f ,
BRINGING UP FATHER u.Drawn for The^aha“ee by McManu»
jrmmii j-1—i i — ,nx\ n1; - ■ ■■■ ■■■ -■ - — ■— — - r % § '■ ■■■- ■■■ — i—t . — —ii - 1 r ' I—“~i
/ 1* 0 A <iOOD THINCi 4_
/ M^QIE »*b OUT OF
/ TOWM I K<IT t)LEE.P ALL
I II || DAT* THAT WILL HELP ME
for<;it AftooT SMOKIN' * |
il^'t—r-r-'
TEbs Ti'K ’ THERE WA^A S
MAX HERE THREE Tir-\£*»
TO bEE TOO HE bA'D
Hl*3 NAME WAb OUCAN
1 TOLD HIN» TOO WERE
OOT OF TOWN (
i
JERRY ON THE JOB *w„Vj ^ WE SALESMAN IS STOPPED Drawn for The Omaha Bee by Hobar
__ ' 1 _ (Copyright 1924)
f Oo \W>TH A 4J
^UEASUttE- CaSL I
v 1 'WAVSTBP 'TO'I'AkE
TUE VM'^E Our-'
yys
The Golf Conversation as It Never Will Be By Briggs
, l Played A Good /^S Indebc
GA(v\e of Golf TeLL ME
t _ CDCT, oorv»e of
• o.DaY FR6I> - TH6
Like To hear features
ftBOOT. <T ' I QF IX
V_^ _J Vwof)'t You?
The bauT"' KMO^jJ . t'£> v
OToTPerD ukc To haOe
That far .Seem That!
from. The Too most
CUP - AmD PELAtc. it To
Hou Kroovo NtE AG AIM /
The pest ^o^e X5av /
ABIE THE AGENT Drawn for The Omaha Bee by Hershfield
Appearances Is Appearances.
QOSH,tV»r WAY YOU \ / ,-M Hffr
*RU&HED to THE \l Yo eUEVi BUY \
FRONY HERE, YOU ONE OF TWEM»
WOULD IMAGINE YOU , VNL t^ROUfaH
l WERE QOm^to Buv I Buying THtiE
\A HUNDRED OF YHE*F/ 'TNlNtA
V_P<CYL)B.ES‘t
•JE rfj
W_J
n
