“THE GOLDEN BED” ]
By WALLACE IRWIN.
Froduced aa a Paramount Picture by Cecile B. DeMiile From a Screen
Adaptation by Jeanie Marpherson.
(Copyrlfht 1124)
y
(Continued from Yesterday.)
He settled this point in the moat
practical way possible. When Jo's
back was turned Admah walked out
of the store without so much as a
by-your-leave and sought the estab
lishment of Samuel Gllck & Sons who,
by their own advertised admission,
were the leading clothiers of the
State. Monty Fernback, who played
howls at Palfer's, was a salesman at
Click's Monty was the handsomest
dresser In the Live Wires Club, and
before he rolled the ball he always
removed the rings from his soft right
hand.
With one idea In his fevered mind
Admah charged so recklessly through
the Grand Avenue traffic that a po
liceman stopped him with a polite but
firm "Cahful thar. Mister Holtz!" Or
dinarily the deference would have
flattered his pride. But his thoughts
were too busy to receive outward
impressions. Tea at the Peakes'. The
Little One—what was her regular
name? Flo Lee. The nigger at the
phone had said it. Flo Lee. He put
tire name on his rosary and said it
over and over. Funny how they'd
taken a notion to each other. . . .
* She'd gone out of her way to be
friendly. He wondered if he really
had something about him that ap
pealed to girls. The Swells some
times took up with his kind. There
was the case of young Carter and
Mabel Stek. for instance. Flo Lee.
She was engaged to that foreigner
with the long name, He raked his
memory, trying to recall the news
paper account of her engagement
. . . This brought on a disagreeable
train of thought, if she was engaged
to that Spigotty Count what right
had Flo Lee to take moonlight rides
with her head on Admah Holtz’s
shoulder? Crossing the sidewalk to
ward Click & Son's dressy show win
dow, Admah laid his hand on the
sleeve which her lovely hair had
brushed last night. Maybe sne wasn t
the right sort of girl. But like many
another one. caught in the trap of
Flora Lee Peake, he had reached the
point where he ceased to care about
that. ...
\t the door of Gllck & Sons a natty
person in blue serge stepped forward
and fondled his right hand.
_ __—- “ ' \
/
New York
--Day by Day
---—'
By O. <) MTNTYRK
Atlanta. .Ian 12 - Atlanta I have
been told is the New York of the
south. That might be a fine trade
last but it is not quite fair to this
southern metropolis. So far no one
has stepped on my feet, pushed me
off the sidewalk, snatched my hat
or run me down with a taxicab.
Unless those things happen in
24 hours in New Y'ork we do not j
call it a day. So then Atlanta is a
miniature New York minus the
rough stuff. Nobody knows I am
in New Y'ork and they wouldn't
give a hoot in Hohokus if they did.
But they knew It in Atlanta two
hours after my arrival and I was
swept off my feet by a rush of
southern'hospitality. Dinners, lunch
eon. teas an what not, Yhe privil
eges of the leading clubs. Offers of
limousines for the day and so on.
Six hours after my arrival cams a
telegraphic invitation to attend a
dinner in my honor at Griffin, Ga.
Also one from Columbus and Amer
cus. If I am giving the idea of self
importance X don't mean to. I was
not especially favored. They treat
visitors that way.
And that is why every northerner
who comes here goes back home
with a sentimental feeling for the
south that is not engendered any
where else In the world. There is
somehow an absence of pose down
here. Y'ou find the same feeling in
Texas—a feeling that they are
■ just folks."
Where save in the south would
a telephone girl at a hotel inquire
after your health at the first call
of the morning? "Number” and
"Excuse it please" constitute the
New Y'ork telephone girl s lexicon.
It might be argued that in New Y'ork
they are too busy.
The south proves that no one
needs to be too busy to be plea
sant and cordial. A mighty city has
sprung up hero and good manners
and consideration for others have
been preserved. It can he done any
where else and add greatly to the
sum total of human happiness.
Peach tree street Is Atlanta's
Bole de Bologne. Here are fine old
colonial homes with broad expanse
of closely clipped lawns—and In
viting shiny brass knockers. It has
a rare dignity. You somehow look
for curtseying ladies in erinoliness,
gentlemen In stocks and goatees,
the family coach and a faithful old
darkey serving mint Juleps. A few
stretches of it have been ravaged by
every city’s mighty Moloch—the
ornate apartment house. But gen
erally speaking It retains Its virginal
charm of hallowed deya that are
gone.
The Atlanta Constitution Is one
of the oldest papers In America. It
was founded in the 60s. It has many
traditions and this spirit seems to
have welded a traditional spirit
among those who make it. I had a
Jolly time there, for the print shop
will always remain to me the most
romantic spot In the world. We sat
about in the office of Clark Howell,
the owner. Printers press feeders,
make-up men, circulation men, re
porters and editors corns in. Each
seemed on an equal footing with the
chief. I have rarely seen such an
interesting and happy newspaper
family*. I don't believe there are
tunny order? given »round the Con
stitution offle for tlo .n.ifile ten
non that the >-1111 y in? don't need
orders
Atlanta has long been the hot
bed of the Ku Klux Klun. People
have grown use to It or don't care
to discuss It. Y’ou hear more of the
Klan in New York than hi re. I saw
the factory where <10 cent, sheets
become f4 robes of mystery. It was
biasing with light at. night. I also
saw the Imperial palace, a rather
Imposing building of colonial design.
On the porch there sits constantly
a corpulent, puffv and rather Jovial
appearing old fellow. He wears n
wide soft hat and suggests the Inn
keeper of the English countryside
S' far as I could see bis Job con
si 1 'I only In lowering the American
flag os ihee sun goes down
4
“Hello, Ad!" exclaimed Monty Kern
back. "You’ve certainly been a
stranger round hya! Lookin' for a
nice line of fall suitings?"
"I reckon so," said Admah. and
glanced shyly across rows of tables,
piled with diversified apparel. “1 jus»
dropped In, wonderin’ if you could
rig me out th somethin' nice to wear
to a tea party."
Shortly after the telephone confer
sation that weighed so little on Flora
Lee’s time and conscience San Pilar
sent his peace offering In the form
of orchids and one of his brief, pleas
ant notes to remind her that he was
to lunch with her at half past one.
Carlos was lavish with such remind
ers as were others who followed Flora
Lee's broken trail.
A little after twelve, when she be
gan dressing to receive her lord-pros
pective. her mind retained a more or
less definite program for the day. She
had asked that candy man in at four,
that much was clear enough. What
she was to do with him, was another
matter; that would come, she felt,
upon the wings of inspiration. Al
ready she was beginning to relent her
mischievous plan'—Carlos’ orchids and
his pretty note had cooled her desire
for revenge. But the candy man
would serve as a lesson to Bunny,
who must be. taught not to do It
again. Yes. the candy man could be
made use of in some way.
At eight minutes of four Admah
Holtz paused at the corner of Inness
Street and Prince's Avenue where the
Kozy Kar automobile showrooms, re
cently established, had a Western
Union clock in the window. In the
shadow of his new brown eoat he
brought out the dollar watch, ordi
narily sufficient, and compared it with
the larger dial Inside. He was two
minutes fast; and this discovery
meant another readjustment in his
line of march. Miss Flo Lee had
invited him at four. She had said
it distinctly over the telephone, and
Candy Holtz had built his success
thus far on a cornerstone of prompt
ness.
No vainer than most unmarried
men. he was yet unable to move away
without another glance into the
bright reflection of himself which the
window cast toward the street. Never
before had he cut so fine a figure, of
that he was certain. But wasn't hi>.
suit o' clothes a little bright—sort of
loud and niggery? Monty Fernback
had recommended it as The Latest
"Tobacco brown" he called it and
convinced his customer that the
slanting pockets and flaring tails
were exactly like those affected by
the best dressed actors from New
York. In the same breath Monty, as
a fellow clubman, had weaned his
customer away from his kntibtoed
shoes and argued his feet into some
thing black and slippery like oilcloth,
They were impressive, these new
shoes, hut they hurt across the in
step. And because the new suit and
the now siioes gave his hat a seedy
look Admah had yielded to a round
bla^k derby which pressed on his
skull like an iron crown and grew
hot with exercise.
But in the window of the Kozy Kar
showrooms he straightened up like
an actor after the callboy'g knock.
A little awed before the picture of
himself, he reckoned that he'd look
as good as the Splgottv Count or any
body else at Miss Flo Lee s teaparty
... Or maybe the Spigotty Count
wouldn’t be there. Nobody but him
self and Flo Lee. Devoutly he prayed
that this would ho so.
The Western Union clock said five
minutes of four when he turned the
corner and strolled magnificently to
ward the Peake house. By measur
ing the steps, he calculated, he could
be there on the dot; he had already
toured the block a half dozen times
and inspected every neighborly show
window, trying to forgot his smarting
feet and to forgive the unexpected
efficiency of the trolley car that had
got him there fifteen minuter too
early.
The Peake house was two blocks
from the Avenue, and when he had
covered one of these Admah again
consulted his watch and found that
he had still three minutes on his
hands. Hidden by all the hags that
pursue the bashful man s Imagina
tion, he felt that mirthful eves were
irpon him front every close,] shutter
in the block. He was glad that he
hadn't let Monty cajole hint into buy
ing a cane. Nobody but visiting East
r-rners carried canes, and lie himself
had sneered more than once behind
tiie barks of these outland dudes,
swaggering along ns though two legs
weren't good enough for a grown man
to walk on. . . . No. sir, not Monty
or anybody else could wish a cone
on Admah Holtz. . . .
He had conic a few yards down the
block and was slackening his pace
still more when an approaching fig
tire reacted painfully Upon his mor
bid state of mind. One of the peaks
girls—the big one—had Just mine out
of' her yard and turned toward
Prince's Avenue. Too shy to look
directly at her. he had an impres
sion of a straight, sensible suit, al
most as brown ns his own and a slen
der. vital body that swayed slightly
with her gait. Step by step she came
nearer, every step confronting him
like a question mark.
What should he do in a case like
this'.’ Tip his new hat? Stop and
bow? Say how-dee-do? Or what.’
Perhaps she wouldn't know him. Why
should she? He "as In disguise. Had
she flown at hint and clasped him
around the waist he could not havt
been more conscious of her. although
his eyes were Held glassily upon the
path before him. Then a mortal curl
osity compelled him to turn. She
was regarding him with a friendly
smile.
“How' do you do, Mr. Holt*?” he
heard her say.
Then what a triumph! Easily,
gracefully he raised his hard new hat
and was thankful that it had been
built for such a fine gesture
How 'lee do. Miss Peake, ' a voice
which might have been his own was
saving politely.
The lady paused an instant, as
though she would say more, but thf
social inhibitions again overcam. Ad
mah Holtz and be sauntered on. Mr.
tie site wanted to talk to him He
didn't know. Hut. anyhow, he wasn’t
going to take any chances • . • aleo it
was retting on toward four o’clock.
This last thought brought him up
t" the stone horse-block of pleasant
memor\ once on the flagged walk,
leading the t*jg house, ha was sut
prised at his own coolness. That
I’eakf gitl the big one—had Riven
him "urage. r\sn as a 1,11''r
heartened Columbus in hi* dash
India True, it was not lndla ,ha
Columbus found, but that a a quart'l
f<.r Philosophers.
(To Bo Continued Tomorrow.)
'
lavs an acorn away; man, a corn
THE NEBBS RIP VAN WINKLE, JR,
Directed for The Omaha Bee by Sol He*r
(Copyright 1925)
/iVERM morn &vc\ /mm N&ME VS» M'SSN s.
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