ii.
I, THE KING
By WAY LAND WELLS WILLIAMS.
(Copyright, 3*24.)
I----'
(Continued from Yeeterdar.)
He was somewhat at a loss for
something to say. having never ad
dressed her in her capacity of A Girl.
That trotted about without speaking;
the music blared comfortably from
under the stalls; Inanely the words
swam In his head: Ganz zum Ueber
fluss melnte Eusebius noch folgen
de« . . .
"Funny crowd," he gasped.
"Yes. isn't it? 1 heard Cora Bax
ter yelling to you about it "
"8he's odd, isn’t she? Lots of char
acter—"
"Yes, though mostly on the wrong
track. And yet her mother seems .
"—dabel aber sprach vial Seltgkeit
aus seinan Augen. Who in heck was
Eusebius?" he asked, cutting across
her remarks on Mrs. Yandermyll.
Site abandoned them with a laugh.
"Why, he was Schumann's idea of
one side of himself, the caltib medi
tative, philosophic side, and—"
"Oh, I see. I wonder—"
"_and Florestan represented the
other, the wild, hurrah-boys side.—
What?” _
"I wai just wondering what Euse
bius would have thought of this. His
last word was rather—solemn, wasn t
"Eusebius he damned.” said Mary
Vane. And he knew that the remark
was a challenge and a warning: "I tn
not a ministering angel, hut only a
human girl that enjoys a good time,
and vou can keep away if you don t
like it." He liked that.
"All right,” he said cheerfully, let*
have a go at—what’s the other fel
low's name? Florestan."
III.
At two-thirty he found himself with
h»r and three others In an all night
restaurant, the dance having ended,
patroonly, on the stroke of two. The
place was walled with somber black,
and the lights were carefully shaded
so as to look wicked; small tables
and a. settee running along the wall
combined to give a Parisian effect in
the middle of It all, on the oblong
of clear floor, bank cashiers. Semitic
persons from the theater, successful
motor car salesmen and their lawful
wives danced with every visible sem
hlance of the most perfect virtue In
the world.
Matv Vane smoked a clgaret, ate a
rhppse candwich and drank intrepidly
from a ginger ale with real Scotch in
it. She wasn't showing nff. exact y
for she wasn't that kind, but Kit did
not consider It very convincing. He
had ft mischievous desire to push and
push, to see how far she would go
r She was talking with the Britisher,
whose name Kit had already discov
ered was not merely Boon but Mack
worth-Devizes-Boon, two hyphens, lie
was slight and tall, with a brown
mustache, mild-mannered and WMi
"^The hand ought to he,Mack," h<e was
saving. "Somehow you never can get
the light effect of go in n place of this
„nrt ,ir,|ess the bard is Mack. Every
___— ——
/
New York
--Day by Day
--'
By 0. 0. MTNTYRE.
New York, Nov. 24.—To most New
Yorkers the teeming East Side is
merely a sullen gesture in the high
pitched metropolitan splendor—a con
glomerate mass of sunless rooms fill
ed with the piteously poor. It is the
slums.
Yet without the East Side It would
not he New York. It odds greatly
to the rommerical activity and big
ness. More Indeed than the casual ob
server realizes. There are in East
Side savings hanks deposits totalling
more than $500,000,000.
Nearly all of this comes from the
savings of the people who live there.
The East Side has,brought splotches
of the old world coloring that makes
life so Interesting here.
More than 800,000 Italians—more
than Naples boasts—live on the East
Side. There are nearly 1,000,000 Jews
' In Gotham and the greater portion of
them reside on the East Side. There
are more Germans there than there
are In Munich.
There are more Irish than In Dub
lin. Cork and Limerick, and the East
Side has a dozen quarters where not
a single word of English is ever spok
en. The East Side has B!) newspapers
printed in foreign languages.
The East Side Is not all poverty
and misery. People live down there
In more magnificence than might he
supposed. The residents may have
their strawberries in mid-winter and
honeydew melons and hothouse
grape* Just as Park and Madison
avenues and at less than one half the
price.
Division street offers the same
frocks and lingerie that the avenue
does—but at bargin prices. On Hes
ter street may be found the finest,
laces and silks. Allen street has its
linen quarter. Orchard street is filled
with silver and antique shope. As
a matter of fact the more one studies
the East 8ide the more one is con
vinced that the difference between the
East. Side and west side Is largely geo
gra phleal.
There is a barber shop on West
Thirty-seventh street that has start
ed a. revolt against bobbing hair. A
small electric sign reads: "We don’t
bob hair. Thla shop Is for men only."
"That,” said one of the facetious
mcgaphonlsls of a rubber neck wag
on. pointing to the aquarium in Bat
tery park, "was the townhouse of
Stuyvesant Fish."
Mad, mad wags—these yap wagon
barkers Mostly young college boys
who know very little about the town.
They are likely to point out the
"Woolworth for the Singer building.
But their good natured banter saves
them from the ire of passengers.
It, Is said the Tenderloin's supply
of narcotics centers about the Grand
Central station after midnight. At
any rate one sees quits a number of
"snow birds" in ths neighborhood.
The many entrances tn ths station
and other various labyrinthine es
capes make It an ideal place for the
vender to maks a getaway in rasa
he Is spotted.
In a soda fountain the other day
I saw a little hoy about seven take
a wallet from his pocket and from a
sheaf of bills tender a dollar hill for
payment for his sodn. This Is qnlte
a change from the days wrhen the big
event In life was to take the citrate
of magnesia bottle hack to the drug
store for the nickel refund. But some
how I believe I hid ths greater
thrill. In feet until I was 10 years
eld I didn't know there was any other
coin but a penny.
, ? I
Ing else is black here; why not the
band?’’
"TVe wear them on our sleeves in
this rountry." said Mary idly.
"Hal Representing the heart,
what?"
"No, we've a little more to show
than that. But It Is funny . . ."
She broke off with a glance toward
Kit, who said: "What's funny? What
about a black band?"
"Nothing that matters."
"Go on. I'l like to hear It."
"I don't want to, Kit. You've lost
a good many relatives and things.—
■Suppose you and I see what we can
do with this waltz?"
"Yes. But not if you’re just em
barrassed. I'd ratliPr hear what you
were going to say.”
"Well, I think I won t repeat it,
not because it would be embarrassing
to you, but because it would sound
flat now."
"That’s right." said Boon approv
ingly. "Never dig up a mot. Dan
gerous."
“I'll say something," said Kit, "and
that is that It's funny how when a
relative dies, that you don't give a
hang for necessarily, you go about
stiff with crepe; but when some one
does that you've, in a way of speak
ing, chosen in care for, you don't
even wear a black band."
"That was a good deal my idea,”
said Mary. Then, turning to Boon:
"He lost a friend in the war, the dear
est friend he had."
"Bad luck," said the Englishman
simply, his eyes on Kit, exactly right.
"And It was particularly hard, be
cause the friend thought Kit was
dead w hen he died."
"Yes, could anything be hatefuller
—his going on. and finding I wasn't
there? Tt takes away from the beauty
of his death so."
This was all most astonishing, but
Kit knew in a flash that it was right,
the incongruous place and the Jnte
hour made it possible and natural.
"I lost two brothers.” said Boon.
"Do you know, I don't mind much
any more. Dear fellows, both of
them; but after all, they're well out
of it. aren't they?"
"That's it." said Mary. "To mind
for a while is nice, but to go on
minding, that's selfish.—No, Kit. 1
don't mean you. Y’nu're very near
it still."
"I suppose T shall stop missing
him," said Kit. sighing, "it's a had
old world."
The two others of the party, a girl
and a man, returned to the table, and
Kit went off to dance with Mary. "1
like that Englishman." ' he said.
"Think of it, two brothers! Though
one might do without brothers, at a
pinch."
"Often,” agreed Mary, "though I ve
heard he was particularly fond of one
of them."
"Is fora Baxter going to marry
him?" asked Kit.
Not him—the son of a younger
-on!" and the evening ended on that
note.
IV.
There were mors serious things to
think about, or so he told himself.
Jen Cobb began to intimate it, and
there was no denying it: he was out
of a Job. and it was time he tried
to find one.
Jen s preference for him was news
paper work, and he actually brough*
about a dinner-meeting between Kit
and a certain city editor of his ac
quaintance. The city editor was
slightly bald and his mustache was
over-long; it Impeded .he passage of
cauliflower and made him look like a
walrus. Also he was unimpressed
having met many young men with
vast possibilities and no "experience."
Yes. there would be an opening in
the summer; he'd be glad to lake Kit
on, but he would like to know by the
first of Juns.
The status of a cub reporter, after
the war and tumults of the last year-,
had no glamour for Kit. When he
now thought of newspaper work as a
career he visioned something very
new and intelleet^al and incorrup
tible with himself at the, helm, his
position fortified by a large invest
ment; something quite different from
a reportership.
"Thanks." he said, "hut [ won t
make you wait till the first of June.
Jen flatters my journalistic ability. 1
don't think, myself, that newspaper
work is my line."
Jen was disappointed, and told him
he had been hardly polite "But lie
was so silly." said Kit. "That wall
eyed type of intellect. Everything
must be done on one model; whether
it s good <«r l>ad doesn't matter. A
technician. He reminded nte of a
more civilized version of Altaki—my
Samoan pastor, a blithering fool
"This man isn’t a fool, Kit. He's
a second cousin of my sister's bus
band. Not that it matters, of c ourse,
if you have a better idea."
"I have none,” said Kit. "and may
I be delivered front them. Ideas ,u «
all very vv»ll for the young, hut they
die with a craving for lemonade, or
wearing socks and ties of the same
1
color.—Even a half-baked flippancy,
such as mine. Is preferable."
"No, It’s not," said Jen,
“Well, It’s more elnrore. anyhow."
And that, as Jen recognized, was just
the damnable part of It.
Dick Hofflngton was atockbroklnpr
"Why don't you come down?'' he
asked. "Money may not amount to
much, but it's the one thing you don't
get tired of running after."
At this Kit felt a reverberation of
odd thoughts. "No, Pick, not for me.
It's the one thing that never could
be north while. I wouldn't mind
making some. Incidentally, but the
work must be th** thing.''
“As you will,’* said Dick. And then
he added, with nil his old time bland
ness: “Do you suppose you’d be work
ing now if Jack raslon were alive?"
This was less than three weeks
after the Park avenue episode. An
apology had been made and accepted.
but Kit wondered rather uneomfort
ably at the mind that rould go barg
ing Into the business again, so eaa
ually. "That's a hard question. Pick.
Make Jack Alive, and I’ll answer It."
"You talk as if J'd killed him," re
marked Dick.
This rang more brutal than bland.
and Kit left him In disgust. Bv way Mark Hamilton end l' «
of obliterating the Impression he re Hamilton is six feet, six Imre* 1
solved to think no more about a ra- gn(, Holmes Is only fout feel. 11
reer for at least it week Ini he*. Both men are playing In ,
(To Ho Continued Tomorrow.) /gnp (•,„(,. „f the West.’ {
The tallest and ehorlest men at the|whi<.f, William K. Howard is dlteit
Paramount west roast studio are J |nK. _ _ __
THE NEBBS
THAT’S WHO I AM.
Directed for The Omaha Bee by Sol He**
(Copyright 1924)
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(Copyright 1924 by The Bell Syndicate, fhc )
BARNEY’S ON THE JOB AS TRAINER.
9
Drawn for The Omaha Bee by Billy DeBeck
(Copyright 1924)
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Drawn for The Omaha Bee by Hoban
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