Nebraska Newspapers

    ! “The golden bed”
By W ALLACE IRW IN.
Prodtit rd its a Paramount Picture by Cecile B. I)f>liile From a Screen
Adaptation by Jeanie Macpherson.
(Copyrlsht, IK*)
V._
(Continned from Saturday)
'Tessa Kennel."
3y now Admah had readied the
point of intoxication where one imag
ines one'* relf a being singled out
by Bacchus to be immune from alco
holic poisoning. Cool and sober, in
ds own estimation, lie jolted through
evening streets, philosophizing on
•ho things that made him sick. Grand
S.venue had turned Itself into a little
shoddy Broadway, electric light signs
blinking on and off or twisting round
like illuminated garter snakes. All
across the frou*. of a movie palace
a scare-eyed Knrde In riding boots
was guiding her fiery mustang in a
eap from cliff to cliff. Goofer’s Ra
iio Store was going full blast; some
.ding with a howl and a twang in it
’ hat sounded, in passing, like,
‘Ba-a.-a.-by, I got the twitehy-itchy
hoola bla-a-a!" An Electrical Wizard
cad devoted his great mind to in
oniing those ear-splitters and eye
i! chcrs and brain-addlers. Well, they
jollied people up. kept the poor old
world from sticking in the mud. This
last, thought was refreshing.
Admah believed in advertising. Good
thing, advertising. If he hadn't ad
vertised, where would he be today?
Where would lie be? With a jerk of
the car around a sharp corner he
came to sufficiently to ask himself:
Where was he now? His wife gone,
his credit gone. What was it Flora
'J,ee hail said about hts hands? She
didn't like them to touch her. And
that damned Frenchman—Sav—what
was it—Savarac. . . • What sort of
hands had he? Had Admah been like
some terrible ape to her, annoying
her with his caresses while she
learned to smile like a doll? Like a
doll? Like an angel! Something so
shining, so far above him that he
was flattered when she looked down
on him to let him know that she felt
his worship. . . .
God! Why hadn’t he killed O'Neill
the first time he saw him leering at
her over a glass-topped table?
The Ford stopped suddenly beside
a deserted dock.
iletween its gentle banks the River
stole away, calm and melancholy be
neath a sheet of stars. White mein
had first coino downstream in canoes
and rafts; like parasite* that dwell on
leaves they had been swirled against
that bank to fasten on the living
herbage and to multiply and to de
vour. Men had carved the River's
banks to an ugly pattern of civiliza
tion and cities had polluted its waters;
yet under the stars as Admah Holtz
crouched on the pier, lonely and de
pressed, he cottld feel the divinity of
the stream, its power and its glory.
He had been the River's child almost.
His first memory was of a ride behind
oM John down to the ferry wharf on
tH*s other bank.
The other bank . . . just by that
span of waters had his life been
changed; he could see faint lights In
1 he trees and imagine that they came
from the settlement where he was
born. He might have remained to lm
prove the sell and to marry one of
the neighbor's girls. Would he have
been happier? Pa Holtz hadn't been
happy. Men who drink alone out of
.. ■' ■ ,M V
■ New York
-•Day by Day—
--
By O. O. M’lNTYRE.
New York. Feb. 8.—A page from
l he diary of a modern Samuel Pepys;
Early out and .to breakfast with
Verne Porter and we ate but little In
nir r.ea> to think out a silly word for
a cross-word puzzle. A pity, too, for
he paid the cheek.
Home where came a l'os of avoea
di»s from P.. Reeder in Miami and I
at. my stint until William Boyd, the
play actor, dropped in to talk Of this
that and the other.
In the late afternoon to walk with
my wife and to fpo a brave picture
in a gallery and I was for buying It.
which would have made me trTore than
bankrupt.
To dinner with Bill Edrington and
Irvin Cobb came down from the floor
above and later came Earl Carroll
and all in high humor at a story
Cobb told about a mule skinner. So
home and to bed.
Along Broadway she Is known as
“Rubberneck Rose.” She Is one of the
many colorless creatures who sit in
the lantern-hung sight seeing wagons
as a decoy for other passengers. She
sits for hours knitting or reading a
hook and when the ’’yap wagon’’ fills
she steps out and waits for It to come
back for the next load.
“Rubberneck Rose" ts paid 83 a
day. Never does she feel the romance
of exploring the Bowery, Chinatown
sr.d Coney Island. Some they say
have Interesting pasts. One a former
chorus girl toast of the town. Another
a dancer of repute.
It is the drabbest of all occupations
In Flash alley. They hear the barker
megaphoning: “Fast car going right
out! See the wickedness of China
town, the slums of the Bowery! Fast
car going right out!” And “Rubber
neck Rose" only hears and goes no
where.
There are about i»l> “Rubberneck
Roses’’ on Broadway and side streetH.
They seem to be dreadfully wearied
-with life—the most jaded of all those
who fill the world of Broadway.
This special delivery letter plops on
my desk as I write: It is unsigned
and reads: “Who cares what you
tldnk about New York? You are the
outstanding joke of the literary
world, a pigheaded country lout who
thinks wearing spats and a cane
make a gentleman. Nobody will re
member you n week after the Fool
Killer does his duty.’’
The anonymous gentleman. is light
in every particular save the “pig
• headed.’’ 1 resent that. Those who
know me best say the head Is of
solid Ivory.
Columbia students have s rollick
ing lime on the subway trnvestlng
yells of their school, One goes:
Baseball! Feetbsl!!' Svlmmlng In de
tanks!
Ve're got money, but ve keep it In
de banko.
Collech! Collech, Ol, Ol!
And here Is another:
Hooray! Hooray! Ve vori! Ve con!
. Vat?
Ve lost? *
- Dey chested!
It is a shocking thing tn observe
that Vivian Burnett, (he author's son,
end tiis original of the famous char
•utsr of Little Lord Fauntleroy, is
'bald-headed. Mr. Burnett la a dc
jt“{ed patron of the Broadway thea
ter.
(Ue^i right, lim
stone Jugs and deny God—possibly
tor very fear of God’s wrath—weren't
happy. Ko, that wasn't the solution.
Toward a wharf downstream the
little River Ferry was plying her
way. An ugly thing by daylight, up.
>ier the quiet stars she was a royal
barge, lit for a festival. Her mast
light twinkled daintily on high like
the jeweled tip of a wand. Presently
she bumped the wharf and began the
noisy business of disgorging passen
gers. Roustabouts shouted, crates
hanged, hogsheads bumped, a woman
laughed. Then along the planks came
the klop-klop klop of a solitary horse.
It might hpve been the sound of Old
John's poor tired hoofs, blundering
along with no more knowledge of
life's meaning than dwelt in Admah
Holts that night of his undoing.
The fight ain’t over, not by r. long
shot, he decided, and brought his
hated fists dow n on the planking. My
liquor’s dying in me, and I reckon
that’s a good thing. I'll go back to
town and get a room at the Hamilton.
I've got a thing or two to say out
in meetin’ tomorrow that'll put a
crimp in th* Judas Iscariot club. Too
bad, though, that Attcrbury saw me
cornin' out of the Pickwick that way.
But he can't do a thing without me.
His hands are tied, and I'll show him
just where. And Flora t.ec—pshaw,
she’s had a tantrum, she'll be back.
But I’m goin’ to shoot that man
O'Neill.
He had half scrambled to his feet
and would have arisen had not an
eery aspect of the water, directly un
der the pier caught his eye and fas
cinated him with superstitious con
jectures. Under the stars it seemed
animate, like a drowning man, tat
tered and gray-haired, beating himself
to death against the rough Umber.
Admah had opened his dry mouth to
call when he saw the true cause of
his alarm. Just a wave fronfi the
ferry boat, striking the piles.
But it had given him a start, and
with If an awful thought had come.
Pa Holtz hadn't fallen into the river,
just by accident, because he was
drunk. He’d been drunk, all right,
but the preacher who preached the
sermon and the neighbors who had
come to shake Ma by the hand hadn't
told er right. Admah saw it clearly
now; the steep hank with the eddy
below and Pa Holtz, smoking his pipe,
waiting for darkness. That's the way
to clean the slate—when you can't
make head or tail of ihe liguees, just
rub ’em our. Fascinnted by this easy
thought Admah crajvled on all fours
to the very edge of the wharf and
poised there an instant like a gar
golye. . . .
"Hey. mister!”
jTJie challenge, thin and drawling,
brought him nervously upright. Some
thing twisted and shaggy like a scare
crow approached him through the
dimness. %
"Mister, ef ye ain't keerful ye're
liable to drap off." persisted the thin
voice, which souflded ng though it
came from a body without lungs.
"I reckon so,” agreed Admah, guilt
ily conscious that the Intruder had
guessed his temptation. He saw a
face, scabby and twisted as the body
beneath it.
"Ye don't belong on this yer wharf
no mo’n I do," whined the specter.
“But y’ ain't the kind that rides free
like po' folks does. I got a free pass
on the boat. Tee liee. Right smart of
a boat, but dry.” His jaws seemed
to crack with dryness. “Ain't got a
chaw o' tobacker on yer clothes?”
Admah found a cigar which he gave
to the nun.
"Seegur! Gushainighty!” He bit it
In two ami chewed disgustingly. "It's
a sho miff dry spell, ain't it, mister."
"Where do you get your liquor?”
asked Adntah thickly. II® recognized
the man as one of the water rats w ho
spend their summer in leaky huts
along the flat? and are flooded out
with the river-rise in Spring.
"Y"aln't tollin'?” The water rat
winker his little oozy eyes in Admah's
face.
They plunged ahead through a sort
of alcoholic fog. Through coal yards,
past warehouses, up on® alley, down
another, round ridiculous white
washed corners that smelt of open
sewage; It was as though a corpse
had arisen to guide Admah into some
unclean mischief or to show him an
other troll-dance as Peter Gynt wit
nessed when he threw away his soul.
At last the water rat stopped and
put his hand on Admah s arm, caus
ing to wince away. Suddenly he real
lzed how Flora Bee must have felt
when he touched her. He was aware
of a crooked door with light shining
through Its warped top, Rap-rap. and
a terrifying voice spat out, "Who
there?”
"Jes Zeb, Molly. Me an’ a feller.”
The door opened cautiously and a
fat, evil old woman stood framed in
sooty light against a background of
discordant sounds; a hushed growling,
as though her den contained wdld
beasts that had been beaten and
scared.
“Come awn In an' shet the do'," she
commanded.
There were three cunningly con
cealed steps in the dingy hall; Ad
mah would have pitched forward on
his face had not the big woman
caught him by the coat tail.
"Wanna bust yer fool neck?" she
snarled “Now look yuh, boys. We
ain't sellln’ likker."
“Show yer money,” whispered the
scarecrow. ,
Admah fished into his pocket and
brought out a crumpled bill. The olJ
woman held it under a leaky gas jet.
and bemused though lie was. he saw
that he had given her twenty dollars.
"Come in yuh!" She pointed to a
table in the lowbrowed, cluttered
room. Before his eyes the picture
wavered, fuzzily outlined like some
badly printed engraving. Admah had
taken a chair; then hazily he began
to realize that half the men in the
room were .negroes. . . . He saw a
large hairy mole on the woman's goit
ere-1 neck as she leaned down to slam
a bottle on the table, mouthing some
thing that sounded like. "Keel ole
Cray Babel, mister. Xot much o' that
stuff left!"
Two tumblers, which she had been
concealing under her apron, came
down beside the bottle. *
"He'll keep you ooinp'ny." she e>:
plained with a ghastlj smile toward
the specter named Zeb. Then, her
attention turned to a quarrfel at the
other end of the room, "live, you nig
gabs! I tole you onct an' I ain't g^in’
tell you agin."
Already Zeb had reached hungrily
for the bottle. lie poured his tum
bler full to the brim and was raising
it to his hairy lips when Admah.
spurned him like a blowfly.
"Take it away! Over there!" He
pointed to a vacant table in a remote
corner. The scarecrow, creaking out
a series of sounds that might have
been either thanks or curses, van
ished into the jumble.
Admah laughed and took a drink
that blazed its way down his gullet.
The room seemed to be full of
chuckles, tortured, dizzy, knowing
chuckles. Old Gray Label, which Moll
lmd proclaimed as rare, was common
enough. There was a bottle on every
table, and around each faces grim
aced, doddered, blinked. Now and
then one of the animals would let
out a howl, to- be suppressed by a
snarl from its keeper. Two negroes
crouched on the floor, shooting craps,
muttering short voodoo incantations
with every throw. Several wharf
rats—they might have been Zeb's own
brothers—gathered around and wag
erod small coins.
'Th. Gome a baby bloo!" “Xh.
Lay an atg for you' momma!" "Ub.
Hus’ ’em wide, boy!”
An elderly negro, very drunk, with
dirty ram's wool over Ills ears and
shockingly ragged clothes, sat alone
and preached in a melancholy sing
song: "An'de Spcrrlt of de Lawd come
to Jonah, an' lie say. What yo' done
swallcred? What do' totin’ dah in
side yu' Mmnmirlj? Heave up mah
Prophet, Whale!’ An' de whale done
hove up de Prophet, an’ de Spevrlt of
de Lawd say, ‘Go an’ sin no mo’!’ ”
Through^the haze Admah recalled
Old Harris, whom he had seen drunk
i ltd preaching at the Peake front door
the day of the auction. Life had
shaken him to a rag since then. . . .
Presently he stopped ranting, threw
hack Ills head and slid under the
table. Nobody noticed it. A tight
had started In another corner. A
back door opened quietly and some
body was thrown out. To Admail it
was all a picture, or a scrap of some
fascinating- nightmare to which he
had hound himself by drinking with
tlie Bud People.
Hurrah: He didn't mind the liquor,
after the second gulp. This was the
life, thought lie. None of your high
tuned clubs with critical eyes peer
ing out to count your drinks and
decide you weren't quite a gentleman.
Who wanted to be quite a gentleman?
What 'had it ever brought to Adniah
Holtz except headaches and heart
aches and cheap compliments from
people who stuck out their tongues
behind his back? But he’d show ’em
again. What time was it? He found
his watch and studied the dial, but
couldn’t quite make out. Anyhow, it
was getting late and he ought to go
home. Wouldn't do to go into the
Annual .Meeting with rum on his
brealh. Atterbury would be there.
Atterbury, the stiff-backed, clammy
old fool. Never you mind, some day
Adniah Holtz would be sitting in At
terbury's chair up in the Principal
ity Building. . . .
The roonr was going round and
round. . . . Wicked, interesting faces.
. . . Scraps of song like rags torn
from cheap garment's. . . . Walpurgis
Night when corpses of hanged men
came up from the ground to dance
with warlocks, trolls, vampires, night
hags and those soul-sick, unclassified
devils with swollen bodies, pig snouts
and the scaly legs of unclean birds.
'. . . This was the life' . . . The change
ling who appeared where Admail
Holtz had sat arose boisterously and
addressed his companion devils. . . .
He wanted all men to be free and
equal, or something like. that. . . .
No snobs or high-toned swells to sneer
til your face, but just gooit fel
lows. . . .
“Slict up or git out!" old Moll was
baw ling at him. having swum into his
ken out of nothingness.
"I reckon I'll git out." agreed Ad
mah in an instaht of quiet. As the
sky shows momentarily through a
storm's blackness lie looked through
his drurtkenness and saw clear light
O'Neill. He couldn't bo far away.
Asleep or awake, he'd find him. . . .
Moll gave him a shove from behind
and he stumbled on the inf' rnal steps
leading to the exit. She helped him
up. and an instant later he was out
in the alley, a sodden wind blowing
across his face. He clutched at a
post to save himself from another
fall: then out of the shadows blatrk
shapes began to move. Slowly,
stealthily they closed in. Was it
part of ills wickgtl dream'.’ A great
hand gripped Ilfs shoulder. It was
all so dreadfully quiet. Admali had
opened his mouth to shout, hut no
sound came. He struck out blindly,
felt his knuckles cracking against
flesh and bone. Then they were on
him and lie went down and was blot
ted out. . . .
. . . How hard and hot the pillow
felt against his ear! Without open
ing hLs eyes he turned over, clicked
his fuzzy tongue and readied for the
thermos lvottle which always stood mi
lit* hells'-* table. But the table wasn't
there. He toughed, caressing his fore
head which seemed to beat with a
thousand hammers, making a n^ise
like the T. & P. shops going full
hi. st. > The T. & P. . . .
He opened one eye and looked pain
fully across the room. Queer. Every
thing was turne^ around. He didn't
remember tliht funny little door in bis
bedroom, or that dog eared art calen
dar, showing a bold-eyed virgin with
a white kitten. And what had hap
pened to t lit* walls? They had been
unaccountably covered with some
smudgy looking paper that had
cracked In places. He opened both
eyes and tried to sit up, but sick
near overcome him. . . .
Then liu ought methodically to re
trace his steps, much as the lost
huntsman counts the trees, hoping
thereby to recover his trail. In tin
lirsi place, tills wasn't any room lit
had ever been In before. Nor anv
room In the Hamilton. He began i>
remember jumbled noises in a terribh
place up mi alley; a negro man lum
been pror-'hing about Jonah; an old
woman with a goiter had sold him
something she esllsy whisky—Oiu
Gray l«ibvl. On the way home foinc.
hotly, or something, had jumped at
him out of the dark.
What time was it? Painfully turn
ing his be;ul he descried a tgvisted pib
of bills, Ills knife and some small
change ori a cracked marble bureau.
No sign of his watch.
"Hey!" lie moaned, closing his eyes.
"What's the game hPre? lie; !”
Prom somewhere a door opened,
foni si el's approached.
"Well, t.ldn’ a brace, y? 1 asked
a pleasant voice with a pronounced
Yankee accent. “Her#, try tills bro
inon, old son.” A blue sleeve with a
! strip, so bold that it hurt the invalid's
eyes, was passed across the bed and
a white hand, luxuriously ringed, held
a fizzy glaJis. Admah drank thirst
ily, and dozen again. Then he awoke
and sat lx.lt upright? The details of
the shoddy little room were quite
dear now, but clearest of all he saw
the assertively fashionable person
who stood grinning at the foot of hi?
bed. He had on p blue collar and *
barber's pole tie. ' In the splendor oi
his attire and the cleanliness of his
pei-.sou lie was quite a different inui
vidua! from one whom Admah car
last **een some years before. But
he was recognizable as Elmer Hem
ingway, usher, lunch-wagon promot
ere. socialist and gentleman adven
j tuver.
• What the " btgun Admah pleas
[ antly. •
•“That's j* i what I says last night,”
grinned Elhicr “f come down the
alley with nothin' on my mind but my
hat. and win -Ida I Admah R.
Holtz. president of the First National
i-tnnU, or whatever it is. moused to
the gills and bein’ frisked for his
watch l.i\ .1 pair o' river-bout coons
When did jou lake to drinkin your
champagne at old Molly’s?''
• What were you doing there?"
asked Admah thickly, unsure that
Elmer was not a continuation of hife
dream.
“Business," said Eimer. and winked
a wicked eye. “1 old old Moll the
line o' hooch that knocked you cold.
rfo It#* < ontiniiffl Tomorrow.1
THE NEBBS RUDY—WELL! WELL! WELL! Directed for TheChnah. Bee by Sol He..
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BRINGING UP FATHER „ ,Rp'*'7d0f,lr. SEE J1GGS AND MAGC1E in full Drawn for The Omaha Bee hy McManus
1 nnilal\ U. s. Patent Offica PAGE OF COI ORS IN THE SUNDAY BEE .r-neH-ht 192S«
TH!*b QUARREL BETWCEmI
MA<iC'fL AM DAOCHTEr i*
CITT1N ON Me MERvE'o -»
WI-jH THE VO ■bPEAK AM
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--
IN 6LA.0 to KNOW
«bHE. 6000
-Common ^EiN'be.
JERRY ON THE JOB . THIS GUY KNOWS THE ANSWERS Drawn for The Omaha Bee by Hoban
I ;
Somebody Is Always Taking the Joy Out of Life By Briggs
I've SEEM 30m£ CLfyeR 3howS I
•but That ONE LAST ryiGHT j
WAS A cORKti?- NOUN 'LL I
SEE. WHAT The. CR TIC3 Haue|
- To JAY - - UNDOUBTEDLY A /
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C^Thc First ac t waT AI
STUP'D — THe. SECOND ACT
A crime — THE. Third
vlas iusaaJitv- thee
*Z._ MAMACtMEMt SHOULD
Pc ASRCSTED ro«
■PLAVitoG A Jo^E. OM • )
The UMSUSPECTIIVJ6 PuBuc)
ThaSSFunajY — i Think \
ThB*H meMT be a mistake ]
- That CPiTiC CQPTai^ly /
sidwt see Tine cmowu- f
Cue rbaXj another /
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ABIE THE AGENT Drawn for The Omaha Bee by Herahfield
He'll Borrow From Him Siill.
12
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TH«rs HEAVY 1 "
MONEY MlNEk» ^
well , Come To
MY Off ICE ANO
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STARTED A BANK ACCOUNT*'
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