“THE GOLDEN BED” ' By H tLLACE lRil 1\. Produced as a Paramount Picture by Cerile B. DeMille From a Screen Adaptation by Jeanie Marphrrson. (Conyrlaht. 1»24) (Continued from Yesterday.) Early Spring of another year the difference was greater still. To follow Admah's simile of the duck in the ditch, he had been thrown from small waters into big ones, floated Instinc tively, refused to drown. In gam bling for the nominal leadership of a large enterprise his first Impulse had been suffused with .vanity. Bit terly he had sworn that the Candy Man should become the Candy Kid. Luck and work were on Admah's side. The fierce industry which had created a Candy Holtz gave him suffi cient driving power to lead a forlorn hope in a more audacious adventure. At first there had been a clamor to shut down the shop until ‘'conditions" Improved. Admah saw nothing hut maladvsrtlsement In such a move; he hadn't risked his credit to drive a dead horse. First he quarreled with Mr. Canfield, treasurer and relic of the old organization, then he worked his will. In publicity methods Admah lifted the P. & T. from the Benjamin Har rison period into the Rooseveltian. A wild-eyed, shock-haired young man named Bentley hod once advertised the Candy Holtz system, and on him was conferred the title of General Publicity Director with Instructions to Introduce confectionery methods , into the farm implement business. Mr. Canfield, who bated the^ shadow ’ of Admah Holtz, got to cal’ling the man General Bentley but Bentley was a good investm at. Under his guidance the dull catalogues became picture books. He seduced the farm er with charming art calendars; Maud Muller raked the hay nn one of the Goliath hayrakes; Little Buttercup offered luncheon to a handsome rus tic on a Vesuvius Motor Harrow. Mr. Canfield, a methodical, cheese poring gentleman of the old style, sickened at the sight of good money going after had. But it was only upon rare anniversaries when the toddy had gone to his head that he opened his rancid heart. Then in a corner he would mention Salesman ship as a thing of the past, "What we need now, suh, is a hand of jugglers Jt romes high, suh. hut the farmer must have his Homan holiday." He hated farmers. Subsequent prosperity should have changed Mr. Canfield's mind, but he died hard. He had grown up in the p. & T. and worshiped the Peake money under its cornerstone. In terms of plain cash Admah's mod ernistic theories of advertising and salesmanship involved expenditures which were more than offset by econo, rales in other directions. Although automatic hammers in the shops were still beating steel with the rage of Vulcan, the force had been cut down to a skeleton: several more nr less honorary officers had also been dis pensed with. Could Admah have In cluded Mr. Canfield in his program of retrenchment he Would have done so without the slightest regret. But Mr. Canfield was a substantial stock holder and in his limited way a very useful officer. Luck turned in the winter of 1921. How much modern views on sales manship and advertising had to do with the case it Is hard to say. Agri culture was coming to life again, tak ing renewed interest in neglerted soli. Business revived almost overnight: tons and tons of implements which had been stored away in the great stockrooms began pouring into box cars in their progress toward the lands of wheat and corn and sugar cane. P. & T. stocks, which had been sulking at nine, Jumped to eighteen. During those laborious months Ad mah's active outer mind could have given little thought tn Flora Lee Peake or her less considered sister. His days were long and hard, and ii there was sufficient energy left l'or the evening he seldom lacked amuse ment. Colonel Atterbury had seen to it that his protege made an appear ance serially. Admah was elected to the Pickwick Club—an undreamed of attainment. He never got quite UBed to the place; his shoes seemed to squeak on the deep, formal car pets. But he dined there frequently and played pool sometimes with Wen Peebles, who had once bowled at Pal fer's and. like Admah, had risen to power. Mrs. Atterbury had asked hint to several dinner parties. Every Tuesday night he took Miss Hot tense de Long to the. theater and might have weakened into marrying her had she not announced her en gagement to a hotel man from the East. When the Spring racing season opened at Bradbury Downs the After burys gave a Derby Day breakfast in their fine old house whose French windows opened on low verandahs, overlooking acres of wooden lawn. The place was of the generous ante helium type, built under the Influence of Louis Philippe. Here the Alter burys had given iferliy Day break fasts for ttftv Vears. Admah Holtz was specially favored by being asked. * Attired irt a new plaid suit, which Monty 1-Vrnbaek's salesman had coaxed him into. Ad mah came at noon to the big rambling house and found the Atterburys en tertaining on the lavish scale by which. In days of old, they had rivaled even the Peakes. A great number of little tables had been brought tn; a huge sideboard, ornate with Dell's Landing hams, chafing dishes, joints on silver platters, steaming coffee urns, gave the effect of an old South as we have been taught to think of it. A long serving table, adorned with two gigantic bowls and innu merable glasses, stood conspicuous; It was attended by a little negrn whose white gloves and brass-but toned livery gave him the look of a performing chimpanzee. Jimmy Wilder managed to get two drinks in the time It tcok Admah to find the refreshment table. Holtz, who numbered Wilder among his ar qualntances, knew him for a brilliant ly-endowed newspaper man on the down grade. Like many another his thirst had increased with Prohibi tion. His recent history had been one of pleasant, gradual demotions until In 1922 he had descended from a managing editor's desk to a pre carious position, euphoniously called Special Writer. This, he explained, seldom interfered with his drinking. "Good mawmin', Mistah Holtz," cried Jimmy. "You're Just in time to keep me in countenance." Admah glanced into one of the large bowls; a symmetrical Iceberg floated In an amber sea of something "Punch?" he asked. He didn't care for punch. "Not so much punch as kick," re plied Jimmy. Then to the little negro with the white gloves, "Absolom, In troduce Mistah Holtz to the liquor, and make it two." Absolom ladled two glasses. Ad mah took his with a gulp. His smile broadened. It was a dry Martini cocktail! "Since Derby Day's gone dry the Colonel's taken to mixin' ’em in a bowl,” explained Jimmy. "Absolom this reminds me strongly of another.' He raised his glass and heartily toast ed St. Andrew of Minnesota. Unusued to drinking so early in the day, Admah was immediately and tin pleasantly affected. Mrs. Atterbury. pledged to take him under her wing, led him from group to group. She showed pride in him as though he had been her own son; and he reflect | »d her pride. We carried with him an aura of success, he beamed with goodfellowship. The Satsumas weren't so bad. after all. The >*oung blonds shook him by the hand, invited him to drink, pretty young matrons rolled their eyer flirtatiously when he came their way; he found himself talking vivaciously, laughing a little too loud Mrs Atterbury found him a place at a table for four. The others were Mrs. Ballinger, who had been Miss Hebe Ravage before her recent mar riage to the sun of a rirh distiller: Jimmy Wilder, now reduced to » pleasant, calm: and a Mrs. Eustone. who. had a candid census been taken of local society, should have given her occupation a* that of official Ml lags gossip. All the world around this busy little mind was on* In volved and naughty romance. While the ham and rhicken dlsapiieared from impede plates she regaled the company with an account of some body who had been caught cheating at bridge and of somebody else who had been followed to 8t. Louie by his wife and a detective. The names wore all a Jumble to Admah Holtz Socially inexperienced though he was he wondered Juet what Mrs Euetone would be saying about him. Then out of the mess of words a name came popping like a pebble out of a shaken bag Margaret Peake "Of course, she can't help feeling hitter. But the Peakes had It cornin' to them, If ever a family hart. I hear she's In poor health, workln' In acme little millinery shop." "You've heard wrong. .Miss f'on sie,” Jimmy Wilder s eyes were like two ll\ e coals. Utss Mahgaret i rtoin' a column on nfir woman's page Shea doin' right veil, thank >’mi •'She certainly la/* ehlmed httla Mr*. Ballinger- "Peg lan t the kin i that a*k* ofld* of MnylH«I>. ’ *Oh, then I wa* urnn :.' exclaim* I Mr* Ku*tone. haclonc fnrhm lv after th«* manner «»£ h *r kind. l*o! Flora Lee iTn li#* I out !«*»•*»• I iiMliifrim.l__ New York -•Day by Day _J By 0. O. M’INTYRE Houston, Tex., Jan. 20.—t *'a* In Houston about a year ago. In the In terlm many changes have taken place. This is not a boom town but it has tie pace of one. What Im presses me most is the beauty of home life—something in which New York Is lacking. You come unexpectedly upon rows of houses with lovely windows; houses with colonnades and magnifi cent fluted cornices. This morning I awakened at Mike Hogg's home, a 10 minute drive from midtown, to the twitter of birds, the crowing of roost ers and the bark of Ajax, the dog. A New Yorker would have to drive two or three hours to reach such pastoral simplicity. From the window you could see stretches of rich green grass and the white brown and red of root tops in rich patches. And touch of old rose clouds In the west. There Is a gorgeous tint to TexAs skies. But what you liks most Is the whole heartedness of Texas people. No, it doesn't sound right to call them people for they are Just folks. They are, I believe, the most friendly In all the world. It is difficult to believe they are quick on the draw and that they will fight at ths drop of the'hat. But his tory does record It. The Texan, If he Is your friend does not greet you with a limp shake of the hand and some inane remark. He puts his arm around your shoulder and gives you a warm little ,, hug. Then he invites you out to din ner. Invariably he wants to show you his home and his wife and children. Where the New Yorker brags of his new cellar supply the Texan brags of his rose bushes. Another thing I noticed in Texas. Youth does not run in a pack. The older men are welcome and a great deference H shown them. You see ■ lad home from college having din ner at the club with gom* gray head thrice his age, having the time of their lives. I was pleased to renew acquaint ances with Slim, the elongated waiter at a well known chill stool counter lunch. Slim la a Houston character whose patronymic fits him like a glove. He has the stature of a giraffe's neck and keeps up a running fire of chatter *s he dishes out the chill. Raymond Dickson came up form San Antonio today to Join our party. Raymond Is a Mexico ranchman— that Is a Texan with a Mexico ranch —and looks more like the city slicker than the most, notable Fifth Avenue boulevardiers. His Is the most pronounced of all the southern drawls I have heard. At first you get the Idea he is speaking an alien tongue hut after a time you are able to follow him You rather Imagine Raymond would he more at home at Simpson's on the Strand for lunch with a monocle In his eye than h< " on Id be In spurred boots and six shn-iters looking over his cattle In the cactus country. But he Isn't. This afternoon we motored down to the beach at Oalvgston to watch tho ■unset. Pirates onpe roamed the sands upon which wc stood gazing out to sea for a sight of the Span! h gitl Icons sailing up from Panama with cargoes of gold. OalvcMon Is filled with legends of hidden pirate gold. Jean LaSlttr Is supposed to have bur ied many treasures there. They re semble the legends of Captain Kidd on Long Island and no doubt are Just an imaginary. T stopped Into a drug store on the outskirts of Houston to purchase some trifle The proprietor had Pu k ed up and was departing but he open ed his doors, turned on the lights and T whs rather abashed to make a 1' cent purchase Vc| he made me feel nn.- patronage whs a favor. Thee Is nn art in that t "". Movie of a “Polar Bear” By Briggs I CASHES,80LDLY*OUT INTO 'THE SNOW I • I - Pop The LOva pete I HURRY \)p\ |>* FRECZIHd Tfl death- I TH^vl A.CL 15 DPiRKNJe-Sil FOR TWO WE CK5 I ■ ALL REAJJV '? LET 'er go? " i Cooses) | ABIE THE AGENT Drawn for The Omaha Bee by Hershfield XII Or Nothing. VO U MU&T QiT THEM | IN THE ORCHESTRA - | 1 U^AfOT To 1 I I [ \ NOTHIN^ ^ I DOlko, •• I I THE NEBBS TAXI? Directed for The Omaha Bee by Sol Hess (Copyright 192.'*) I \ r w. J ; tousty / / / / / / ■ / 4 Barney Google and Spark Plug A NEW EXPERIENCE FOR SPARKY. Drawn for The Omaha B« by Billy DeBeck W BARNEV. 1 WAS TALKING ^ 1 To The. weather mam this SgSS ■'■ ^A.M . . HE said WE'RE g-'i-' 5 ■ j UASLE To HALE a RAlNV gffT^S- *g \ S?EU. FROM NOW ON — :S§ , \ uow s sparry on 6osU 1 \ a ! A A MOOOY /j vp wt'RE \ M N. TRACY . J g0NK14 mAy^ 4 I H -OT tsEE THAT PILIN ') l CO OPT- a.ll VQQ TMINK J ^-' \\ ' Cl923 §y Intl Feature Service. f*e. Crtat Britain right* reaarvcd.; , I— S AY • NEICHBOR. KIN YOU HEAR. MV WIPE CyAWLIN ME OUT I YOOR APARTMENT “ ' 1 ril /-2/'_| JERRY ON THE JOB BAD BUILDING Drawn for The Omaha Cee by Hobar * * • ’ 4 * (Copyright 192e) * .— ■ ■ - - - - _. -_ I » jn