“THE GOLDEN BED” By WALLACE IRWIN. Produced as a Paramount Picture by Cedle B. De.Mille From a Screen Adaptation by Jeanle Marpheraon. (Copyright. 1*14) h. _ - (Continued from Yesterday.) San Pilar's conversation proved, upon analysis, to be little more than a aeries of pleasant and naive ques tionings. But the last question offered a golden opportunity to Zeno'a descriptive powers. He gave an Impression of vast real estate hold ings, such aa the Duke of Westmin ster's in the gray heart of London. Judge Peake, sah? Zeno reckoned he owned everything from the K, & G. down depot to the River, throwing in the railroad, the slaughter house and the Newberry Lumber Yards. The Penkes had been Quality ever since Columbus discovered America and Judge Peake could be king, Zeno reck oned, If he wasn't too old to take the nomination. Everybody took off his hat to the Peakes, including the Mayor. Yas, sah, Mist’ Marquis, ain't that the truth! He was a modern negro, school trained and Inclined, among his friends, to boast of hts political and social rights. But instinctively he held the Peakes in reverental awe. They were to hrn a standard of great ness; all Urn mythical estates which lie had jtlfc described, dwelt in his imagination, an ideal of what the Peakes should be. His pride In them was nothing less than his pride in himself. He had boasted magnificent ly f0l. that this arrogant strang er. coming to his horns town, should dare to look down on Zeno s pan theon And for the same reason there were several things he did not men tion • He failed to explain that he, Zeno, had been hired to come in. just as half the other servants had been hired to come in. during San Pilar's star. He failed to explain how The servants were gossiping of unpaid but. hers’ bills even while the ovens were choked with festival meats. «>r how Mr. Garnett had been quarreling with his second wife because she re fused to surrender any more Jr0".™ from her own estate. Nor did he give the true reason why the fine <-d man sion now stood Isolated a mo"* shops hoarding houses and public institu Hons. Zeno, in fact, had lied like a S' Meanwhile the Marquis Carlos Do mingo de San Pilar descended to the first dinner dance of his season in that generous Southern cit>_ M^ laughing voices, coming from the wide drawing room apprised him of ttie fact that guests had arrived and that he was, as usual, a little lat • "Bunny, you little old slow poke. \ beautiful comet, all in rose and silver, rushed at him .lust as he rounded the newel-post and addiessed him thus unceremoniously. Bunny. She always had names f'"' ' J'1^* '.JV' -she would call him that, the little ** '"Adorable!" he whispered, lull Flora Bee drew hack her sweetly modeled head* hazel eves teased him and a led mouth with an interesting little c rease in its lower lip invited him >et warned him away. Between < arlus New York ••Day by Day By 0. 0. M INTYRE. New l'oik, Dec, 29 —It Is tiecoming the custom for young girls suddenly yanked from behind the glove coun ter to the front row of the chorus to develop hursts of temperament. The spot-lyht seems to blind them to common sense. i There puffs of hysterics usually manage to reach the newspapers. And not a week passes without some girl "walking out on the show. Stage people take themselves a bit too seriously. It i» not unusual for stars to step out of their character and to the footlights to berate the audience for lack of fervor. .lust the other week a doggy movie Don Juan noted for his perfectly priceless marcelle wave left a I.ong Island lot flat because a carpenter v.-as whistling during a scene wherein he was leading some banker's wife astray. And a female star insisted that a htg printed notice to be put up in the studio reading: "The star must insist on extras not speaking to her.” Producers are at fault in humoring them. Instead of giving them honey ed words they should give a recherche horse laugh. Few people are paid so highly for mediocre talent. And It is the public paying the bill. Yet an actor will not hesitate when a bright line fails to land on the funnybone to ask with a sneer: "What’s the matter? Are you all handcuffed?" The old wheeze that no one ever waxes temperamental with a police man applies to stage folk. Most of the temperamental outbursts land where they know there will be no reaction. And that Is why I like the comics and acrobata of vaudeville. They %-ork hard and expect little but are extremely grateful for what applause they receive. They never complain If the audience walks out on their act. They accept it as part of the game and plunge in to make their act better. Sam Is an office boy In a maga zine office. He came over from Rus sla four years ago. He la one of those engaging lads who thinks nothing Is too much trouble, and la keen with the Joy of living. He goes to night school and has not only mastered Knglish but Is proficient In shorthand and typowrltttng. A few days ago he sailed as the private secretary to a novelist. The moral, If any, Is ob vious. When T waa Sam’s sge I recall I was not studying or working. I was, as was the manner of the times, practicing flinging back a long lock of hair with a flirt of the head. That In thoae days was real swank. It la comparable now perhaps to hit ting It. out for a road house in a low slung roadster at 109 mllea an hour, A rati red New Tork bachelor con fesaes he only dresses once a week and that la to go to a play. Ths rest of the time he lounges about In houae robes, reads and frolics with a ken nel of dogs he keeps on the roof of the apartment house where he Uvea. Until I came to New York I hed never seen those gaudy silk house robes New Yorkers sffeot. I had rend shout them only In Robert W. Cham bers’ novels- Now they nre part of •very well equipped wardrobe. They are even being worn on the street late at night hy men out siring their dogs. Incidentally I saw one stlk robe In a Firth avenue haberdashery that bore a pries tsg marked 1460, (Copyright, lilt 4 i A and Flora Lee kissing was over for •the time. He hadn't asked her fath er. as a serious foreigner should, and she had passed the point of trifling. Also people from the drawing room could see them and talk and venture opinions. A wave of emotion seemed to sweep him forward, quite at the mercy of this North American girl, who en joyed a freedom, permitted intimacies unheard of among unmarried ladies of his world. In their early philander ings back in Paris he had remained sane enough to consider her estates in the New World. Tonight he was be yond such calculations. He was reck lessly in love for the first time, per haps In seven years. The Peakes had never been more lavish with their decorations. I'nder garlands of red roses, hanging from chandeliers to cornices a score of pretty girls, their faces animated un der the fluffy pompadours of 1!>13. their shoulders veiled In clouds of pin’e. blue and sliver tulle, their arms decorously sheathed in long white gloves, their waists pinched in and girt with sashes, their narrow skirts flounced and ruffled, stood In animat ed groups; eyes shining, lips busy with affable nonsense, they held the attention of young cavaliers much as their grandmothers had done in the days when the Peake drawing room had been Victorian in its stilted ele gance. To Judge Peake this younger tribe was a rough and rowdy breed: but his presence lent a certain state liness as he went among them to night. a distinguished, withered old fellow who had offered hospitality in this house for nearly fifty years. To the Marquis of San Pilar he gave his fine, wrinkled hand with a "glad to see you. sir," and the two of them exchanged a look of recognition. Whatever tHeir difference in breeding, they were men of the same caste. "Oh. Rol ad! Rol!" Flora Lee was signaling to a tallish young man, ob viously a Peake. "He's the Big Brother." she whispered to San Pilar. “He's only been married six months, and it's turned him into a regular murdering bore. Rol. come here." The murdering bore shook hands with the imported marquis. San Pilar appraised him rapidly. He wore tin same mark of race that they all had. hut it had diminished into little more than a family resemblance. A strang er. the Spaniard had noticed this pe culiarlty with a certain shrewdness. Grandfather, son, grandson—Peake? on a diminishing scale. Was it true, he asked himself, that these North Americans lacked vigor of blood to maintain their families through many generations? , The cocktails were going round again and Bunny—Flora Lee Insisted on that name after her second drink —was making boon companions of them all. A man of (lie world, quick on his feet, lie could adjust himself instantly to the Faubourg Saint tier inuln or the Bal Tabarin. The chat ter and coquetry of the younger fry amused and excited him. Flora Lee. her deathless animation heightened by three cocktails, had gathered her usual group of young men, and bv the languid management of her eyr wa? leading at least two of them to believe that there was yet a little hope. The Judge and Garnett and the second Mrs. Peake had joined a cir cle of the elders under the centra! chandelier and the old gentleman wa? grimly hiding his disapproval of his youngest grandchild, smoking a clg aret and calling to Harris for another cocktail. “Where's Margaret?" he asked abruptly- of his daughter-in-law "Oh—she's late—I'm sure I don't know.” "Remarkable." muttered the old gentleman. Margaret was seldom late. If it had been Flora Lee. now. . . . Just then the Marquis de San Pilar raised his eyes to see another Flora Lee, grown a little taller, a little old er. a little more aerious. standing on tbs threshold of the wi(je door. She larked some" of the sparkle and the deviltry of Flora Lee. Just AS her hair was less lustrous, her ?kln less trans parent. But she had fine eyes. . The. owner of those fine eyes moved forward and the Peakes' distinguished was presented to her. She received his compliments with a small, secre tive smile and her manner, although excellent, was rather cold. He Judged her to be sarcastic. San Pilar should have known, for he had studied many women. She lingered Just an instant, then crossed the room to where her stepmother stood. "Miss Nellie—" she began—she had never learned to call her "Mother" as Flora Lee did so glibly—"can't you change my place, or let me stay out'’" "Margaret, darling!" This in a wor rled stage whisper. "Jeff farter can't come. He's lust telephoned. Something about hnsi ness in Baltimore." "How horrid of him!" began Mrs. Peake, then more practically. "Hebe Savage has Just telephoned, too. Thai makes It even. Tell Harris, won't yon, honey?" Out In the dining room Margaret retained that fixed, mysterious smile. she was even jolly with Harris, whom she regarded more as an old friend than an old servant. But it wouldn't do to give the negroes even a hint ot what was brewing. She loved them and she knew their very human faults. "Close ranks, Harris—two of ur have dropped out," she commander! merrily. And do let's hurry or the cocktails'll play out." "Tas'rn, Miss Mahgaret. And which cards, please, mussa move?" "Oh. Just shuffle mine over to Miss Hebe Savage's place. She isn’t com inp. And take off these two plates." Not a word about Jeff Carter s elev enth hour defection. Miss Margaret chose to sit beside Mr. Jimmy Wilder —if the move signified anything more than that old Harris was not the one to betray it. For he was a gentle man. too; he had Livingstone blood in hl'g veins. So it was nicely arranged, the matter of plates. On the wtav back to the drawing room Margaret encountered a servant with a few- tin touched cocktails on Ms tray. She took one and draink it hastily, then went back into the drawing 'ocm. She wove her way through the crowd and, almost instinctively, sought out .llmmy Wilder. She found the Evening Pemocrat's famous city editor, an empty glass in one hand. • full one In the other, hold ing off two old gentlemen while he committed sacrilege upon Southern Ancestry. . . and I don't see much use In learriln' about the mythology of Oreece and Rome. The mythology of Virginia Is enough to keep me busy the reat of my life. . . ".lames, your arm!"" cried Margaret ftyly when he had finished his 8*n* tence and set down both glasses. (To B* Continued Tomorrow.) What probably makes the road to heaven more unpopular is that there is too strong a tendency on the part of the parsons to make it a toll road. *—Columbia Record. .- —. —- „ _ . , . * Real Folks at Home (the Street Sweeper) By Briggs "TweRe'sati^at’mevw, , j itaisJA ytTJHASjAlmcel )1 (^weu. i3*'.T, 3RJUSM III WJAit'TELCfM , U^CAKJTY, tHeRTAToJCrr- NOVmV^TmAtJNICE: lYtJUiftOUTjMARY-^ISN Ti/ 11 •OON'T.FCC l_*NEAR1 i IT! ^DANOy.7«Vcu OUACyAL^*^»w/ |a 6 vTlRe© AS * USUALLY! X *£r. fc*N;covsAaA«JNt)|i—s all'on account^ i 4 ’ Vv|» UJITM}! --^ 5^ f OR THisX^EVAJ 8R03W/ j'ZjgSi It 1 _” < :r^'w I Think'You ought v Think T-ue votci. I Dunn© M APY-) It’CU’BB \ 7 _ -» TO BE tSCTTIiNG A i OLD AA AN 1 S_ . L,we ThE UJOAK - /./AWFUL NlClS ' JCAfcY k’HAKOWiKl’H^S MIS |Ti WTeneSTlNS^flF YoUCANi ert ON THAT OcB Tho- But l Tvi/ile^f MUC^M ^APLe*TBBCT AMO IT K*CPS ®N* I GKT THE c' t'Yt ^r ,SiueePiN\ But hs Vs No ^C«N3C; v - jvSn ' V--- r //o. ■ aAAJa . /a^ .'<7 .< " •/'V -• **« ^ 1 1 ■ I ABIE THE AGENT Drawn for The Omaha Bee by Hershfield Truth Will Out HOU> ABOUT TAKlOC* X SAVNjc^ A UVrye uiAuc • SuBE,Juui.s ABS ANb bliecss A UTYIE JTWIU« IM GEKiWAL1. t>iscyss .b«r K.wr THE NEBBS MY HOME IS MY CASTLE? Directed for The J^aha Bee by S°1 He UGWT. VGNATZ. AnoN /'r.uO* . 1 CALLED MR .OCWEV \ X'p'CK OOT ANVBoOrV Vciu UtICtHT- J ^>0 * L.A. * J \'m ncclec-Tim'every- I mf-f-O’ THIMC, • INCLOOlMci MY V_ ‘J |“] 1 *blMC,INC,-| IMU^sT e—' p V~l PRAX.TICE • j-J afl a . p *—1' / r&hU r Drawn for The Omaha Bee by McManus (Copyright 19241 J: MA.C.OE-YjO?>TJ ^>ErsT OOT Ajs, <;oT ^ou AMOTHC^V CRObb-WORD j POZ.1LE: ,11 ~1 <=z e>00^J?r^il 1 it11 -i ut?' w vL ! Great Britain rifhtt rr«rvrd / ?- ?fly JERRY ON THE JOB SPEAK RIGHT UP. Drawn for The Omaha Bee by Hoban ___ (Copyright 19-4) -<<■