TIIE DAILY NEHRASKAN. TUESDAY. NOVEMBER 9. 1937
PAGE TIIREE
Name of Father
Kept in Silence
Mother of Illegitimate Babe
Leads Husband to Think
He Is Father.
GODFATHER.
Hal Ellson.
Every day Sabastian dropped a
coin in he little tin box and list
ened to It clink. Steadily the box
was filling: up and he would be able
to givo the child a magnificent
present on the day of the christen
ing. Sabasttan had waited a long
time for that day to come. He
rubbed his hands when he thought
of it and smiled to himself so that
his lips drew back to a thin line
and bared his white teeth. Every
night he saw the baby, and played
with the little toes and felt its
wrists and touched the soft cheeks.
He could hardly wait until Sunday
when they would go to the church
to have him baptized. He still did
not know what the baby's name
would be. He tought of many
names.
When Sabastian came to the
Martini home that night, his friend
Gino Martini met him at the door
beaming with joy. They went into
the kitchen and sat down. Teresa
was nursing the baby. Sabastian
glanced at him suckling there.
Gino was overjoyed. He filled a
glass of muscatel for each of
them. "Ah," he said, "I have de
cided to name the baby at last. I
have found the name. I shall name
him after my best friend. I shall
call him Sabastian."
Teresa Embarassed.
Sabastian looked at Gino and then
shot a quick glance at Teresa, but
she lowered her eyes. He looked
at Gino. Was Gino playing with
him ? Did Gino know. He looked
at the bland smiling face of his
friend but could find no rancor be
hind the smile. Sabastian pro
tested. "No! No! You must not
name him after me. You must not
do that."
Teresa flushed and bent her head
lower so that only a part of her
forehead was visible.
Gino looked at him. "Why not?"
he said. "You are my best friend.
Who else should I name him
after?"
"Name him after yourself," said
Sabastian. "The first son should
always be named after the father."
Gino laughed again. "No. No,
you are the spiritual father. We
will call him Sabastian."
Sabastian bit his lip. He had not
expected that this would happen.
What would the people say? Ev
eryone knew, it seemed, except
Gino. It hardly se?med possible
that he did not know. Now they
would laugh right in Gino's face.
Perhaps Gino did know and was
standing back and laughing behind
his hands. They would laugh at ,
him, too. Oh, why did he want to I
name him Sabastian? He could
see them all snickering and talking
around the tables In their homes
and over the fences of the back
yards. Pair Are Laughing Stock.
Gino got up and went out into
the yard to get some tomatoes.
Sabast'an looked at Teresa.
"What shall we do about it? We
will be the laughing stocks of the
neighborhood."
She looked up at him. "But never
mind," she said, "Gino does not
know. Let him call him Sabastian.
He will never know about it. He
does not listen to tales. Even if
he heard he would not believe. He
is too happy to believe anything.
Why should he believe the truth
when the truth would only bring
him tears and anger? You, though
you have been close friends so
many years, do not know that side
of Gino."
Sabastian bowed his head. Why,
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at least, did he have to be his best
friend? Why did he have to be
trusted so much?
Gino came in with the tomatoes
and put them on the table. Then
he took the baby from Teresa's
arms, for now it had stopped suck
ling. He rocked it back Bnd forth,
humming and smiling down upon
it. "Sabastian," he said, "you are
not as lucky as I am to be a father.
I want you, my best friend, to
share my joy. That is one reason
why I am naming him after you.
I hope, in time, that you will have
one like this, eh? And am I not
lucky?" He hit his chest with his
right hand and cradled the baby
with his left one. "Don't you wish
you were a father, Sabastian? I
tell you, there is no feeling in the
world like being the father of a son
like this. No man can be prouder
than I am. This is my son."
Gino Does Not Know.
Sabastian looked tl the baby In
Gino's arms. Teresa put her head
down again, shielding her eyes
from his gaze. If only Gino would
stop talking like that It would be
hotter. His son. Gino's son. If
he only knew. But better that he
didn't know. Yet, Sabastian looked
at the baby in Gino's arms and
wanted to lake it and hold it and
speak to It the way Gino did. He
wanted to shout to the world but
he could not. He could not even
whisper the truth. He had to stand
and watch while Gino bragged
good naturedly.
Teresa took the baby in her
arms, and It snuggled close to her
like a little animal .
Gino's unmarried sister knocked
on the door and came in. She sat
down quietly as she always did.
She did not say anything but con
tinued to stare at Sabastian. He
could feel the cold eyes upon him
but there was nothing he could say.
That's the way they all looked at
him, not saying anything but ac
cusing him of coming as a friend
and abusing that name and privi
lege. The glances cut him. They
were only malicious. They looked
at Gino too but that was with
laughter. It was not cutting or
bitter. They were laughing at a
clown who did not know he was
the clown. But their laughter could
not hurt him because he was un
aware of it.
They Carry on at Before.
Gino never knew, and Sabastian
continued to come to the house
when Gino was not there. But now
it was different. Although every
one knew how Sabastian and
Teresa had been carrying on be
fore, now it seemed that they all
were watching. Sabastian became
Irritable. Teresa and he came to
words, and then he stayed away
for a few days; but he continued
to come nights to see the baby.
He could not overcome his interest
the chll , .hlc,h he nart at fi. t
looked upon as the start of a great
deal of trouble for him.
On Sunday the babv was chist-
ened Sabastian Martini, and they"
went home from the church. At
night all the relatives and the
neighbors came with their pres
ents. Gino poured the wine all
around. Sal played the guitar.
The guests came and went. Gino
laughed with the heat of the wine
and the great feeling he had of
being a father.
Sabastian followed Teresa out to
the porch and they stood there
looking up at the moon emerging
from a bank of clouds. Sabastian
grasped her wrist. "Teresa, I must
go away from here. I cannot con
tinue this way. They are all talk
ing about it. Everyone knowg.
Everyone is making It his private
affair. This is a joke. They look
at me wherever I go. The store
keepers have that smirk on their
faces, saying, Oh. I know. I know
all about it. It's a great joke on
Signor Martini. The fool, Gino,
Is the only one who doesn't know.
He doesn't even think there is any
thing suspicious about it."
Teresa said to him in her low
husky voice, which was almost a
whisper, "He doesn't know. He
doesn't know."
Let Them Talk Sabattlan.
"That's Just it," Sabastian said,
"He is like a cow. He doesn't even
think about it. And I am hit
friend. We come from the same
'Never the Dryad,
Onlv the Pioneer
Living the History'
NEVER THE UNICORN.
Elizabeth Massler.
Conlrlhutor from Wichita Fnlh, Tri.
Never the unicorn
Whetted his eager horn
On mcsqulte.
Never the dryad
Circled the scanty shade
On swift feet. '
Only the pioneer
Drove back the Indian here
By this stream.
Only the orchard bough,
Only the peaceful plow
Was his dream;
Living a history
Wresting a prophecy
From the land,
He and reality
Like a dream deity
Hand In hand.
town. He trusts me. That's what
made it easy. But It is like a trap
that I have gone into and now I
can't get out. If I didn't think so
much of him it would not matter
so much. But it cannot go on like
this. I don't want them talking
and laughing at me."
Teresa turned away from the
moon and her face was ca.st in
shadow. "Tongues are for talking.
Let them talk. Are you going to
leave me ? I must face their eyes
as well as you. Would you leave
me?"
"No, no." Sebastian was thi'ik
ing of the child. The child was his.
It was his child. Everyone knew
that. But he could not claim it.
Better to go away. No. What of
Teresa ? What of the child ?
Teresa watched him. "I know
you want to go away."
"No . . . No." He shook his head
slowly from side to side as if it
were a great boulder that was hard
to move.
"You can't go away. Gino will
be suspicious then for sure. He
will find out. You can't leave. He
will wonder why you left. He will
find out."
"They are always staring. His
sister "
"You can't leave. What about
me? What about the baby? Gino
must go on believing he is the
father. And you must be the god
father." "That is just it. He is playing
at being serious and it is all a joke,
and I am playing at a joke and it
is all serious. He is better off."
"It is better this way."
"It is better for him." Sabastian
went to her and put his arm
around her waist. She drew away.
"No."
"Ni." i weight and emphasis. "I want to
"No?" He moved toward her. tell you" He paused, unable to
"Tomorrow afternoon?" go on.
"No." "Yes?"
"Why not?" Sabastian's mouth quivered; his
"No. No more. We must stop teeth bit the words off short. "I'm
now. Gino Is liable to find out. the father of Sabastian, not you,
He may catch us together." .Gino."
Sabastian waited a long time i Teresa closed her eyes,
before answering, biting his lips Sabastian waited, his grip slow
in the dark. "So was it so before, i ly relaxing on Bino's lapels.
He could have caught us before." I But the t.ame eyes looked back
Gino Half Drunk. W Sabastian, friendly, smiling.
"No. Now they are all talking.
He is liable to hear."
"Then what am I? Am I a lover?
Then I must give them something
to talk about, if they are to talk.
What a joke. I am my own child's
godfather. Your husband is the
father of my child. He believes
he is and his illusion is solid. I
know I am, and my solidne.ss Is
almost an illusion.
Teresa did not answer. She. was j
thinking. They stood there for a
while, then went inside again.
Everyone was eating and drinking
and laughing and there among
them was Gino happiest of all, now
half drunk. Teresa slipped quietly
away from them and went upstairs
to her room. Sabastian followed
her with his eyes until she dis-
Innrnniil Uft tnolf ft pint nf Wine
and sipped it.
... .
i.nn whs mncine
now, Sabastian watching mm. lie
saw how happy Gino was. No one
was happier than Gino.
Later, unseen, Sabastian went
upstairs to Teresa's room. He put
his hand to the knob and it turned,
but the dor did not open. He
pressed his hot mouth to the crack
of the door. He tapped lightly on !
the wood panel with his long nails
'Teresa! he whispered hoarsely.
'Let me in. quick!"
Goet to Terett't Room.
She came to the other side of the
door and leaned against it, "No.
No: go away!
"Teresa!"
"Go away, Sabastian. Oh, huny,
go away."
"No, not until you tell me when
I msy come again."
"Oh, no, no more. Sabastian. We
will be caught. Go away. Enough
trouble has been caused already."
"I won't go ."
Teresa remained silent.
"Terea!" ,
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Tl
ieye Received
Pity They Distain
From Asking Man
BIRCHES.
Ralph Frledrich.
An Ohio Poet and Former Contributor.
They wear their tenderneit
With strange austerity,
Forbearing yet to ask
A watcher's sympathy.
And yet they have received
From all who lately past
Beside this little grove,
Across the browning grass,
The pity they disdain
To ask of any man.
It Is no foreign thing,
The autumn that began
Too early in their veins,
To any passer-by
Who, seeing how they stand,
Restrains a sudden cry.
She did not answer.
"Teresa. I am going to tell him,
Teresa. I'm going to say that I
am the father. I'm going to show
him the truth."
Teresa remained there leaning
against the door, saying to herself,
"You can't, Sabastian, you can't."
"Do you hear, Teresa?"
There were heavy footsteps on
the stairs, coming up slowly, un
sure of the way. Sabastian and
Teresa heard them, listening to
each one as It hit the next step.
"Will you?" Sabastian pressed
his mouth hard against the crack.
Sweat oozed out all over him, and
his face flushed. The steps were
coming closer to the top; they were
almost at the landing.
"Teresa!"
Sabastian Tells Gino.
She stood behind the door with
glazed eyes, her mouth open, her
tongue and the muscles of her
throat moving. But the words
would not come.
The steps stopped on the sairs
and came along the hallway In a
softer tread.
Sabastian took his mout,h from
the crack and faced Gino. Gino
was smiling. Sabastian grabbed
Gino by the lapel of his jacket and
looked into his eyes eyes still
friendly and without fear, now only
lit witli curiosity, the brows raised.
Teresa breathed heavily, her
breasts crushed against the door,
her mouth gone dry. It was too
late now. She listened.
"Gino!" Sabastian shook him
till Gino grasped his wrists.
"Gino!"
"Yes?"
Words came from Sabastian's
mouth, slowlv. each with the same
Gino laughed. "Too much wine for
you. Sabastian."
Sabastian stared, his mouth
dropping open wMth amazement.
"Come on downstairs, Sabas
tian." Gino threw his arm around
Sabastian's shoulder.
Sabastian shook him off. "No,
Gino. I am the father!"
"Hush! Not so loud. Some
gossip may hear you downstairs
and believe you."
Don't vou? Don't you?" Sa
bastian said.
Gino began to laugh. "No. It
is an insult to my manhood. It is
1 who am the father." He shook
all over with laughter. "Too much
wine, Sabastian, too much wine."
The two of them went down
stairs together. Gino's arm thrown
over Sabastian's shoulder. Sabas-
.Aim.l him of h
i m.uh.i ...... n.. ......
Miiii king faces of the guests.
This Roaring- Decade We Are
Living in Has Splashed Night
Clubs With the Synthetic Gin
(Continued from Fage 1.)
We have conic through.
Our ninety-seven chronicle begins
When beer and cigarettes were
crimes or sins.
Except for genius in the ivory
tower;
We held ourselvet lords of the liv
ing hour
And all far-of horizons; down we
jumped
After a job and got our noggins
bumped
And rose with fingerg empty of
a prize.
Still wiping mint of rainbow from
our ryes
Wfi to.-.U on diswashlng and stable
chores
Cursing the dunces and palwsied
bores
Blind to our merits. Then truth
with no home to sit in
Fancy met fact but gave the brute
the mitten.
Her praise of poverty wat sweetly
funny;
And she was rabid abouth tainted
money,
And college oil-cant. Unto thia ro
mantic Idealist, a vulgar syrophanic
Success would be he last turn of
the screw.
She made her manners, quietly
withdrew.
The world aha left teemed like
Is offering a
styles from
photographs.
to order when
QJt
GOING PLACES next month
in formal style to the Mili
tary Ball will be all those
campus co-eds who cast Rii
appraising eye at forma! wear
this month. Choose carefully
those Utile items of detail
that must go with your for
mal, but choose thorn now,
lest you hunt frantically for
them the day before the Ball.
We offer you the first fruits
of our search for the newest
arrivals.
GAY AND ROMANTIC is
the spirit of the formal sea
son at Hovland Swamon's
Younger Set Shoppe. Your
formal Is here in the new high
shades with its cleverly de
signed sleeves and low neck
line. For loveliness under
bright Rights at the Ball we
suggest silverly blue slipper
satin accented with red velvet.
Many, many formals at
$12.50. Find yours now before
the rush begins.
MITTENS FOR MILADY
the newest and most sensible
formal fashion fad this season
white, fur-trimmed formal
kid mittens. Soft, warm, and
a crazy loo.
And yet we have came through.
Old idiot time with buts and am
persands Tottered rheumatically to seven
teen; Victorian codes were holding up
the hands,
Rebels were doomed to drown In
gasoline
Or to repent and worship Model T.
Noise, lies, and money formed a
trinity.
Except god Mammon all gods
were in flight.
For everything that war desired
was right;
And what was right was income,
interest.
Morality found single life un
blessed; Good business made of her a lusty
Moll:
Boosting waa passionate and boun
tiful.
Simplicity and faith the wita were
sore-on,
And to be innocent waa worse than
moron.
Hypocrisy bowed low before 1. Q.
And yet we have come through.
To sit with plugged-up eart may
look fantastic;
But the machines shook out an
orgiastic
Flapdoodle glory giving adver
tizing Two dollars out of five, and gal
vanizing For caterwauling art a crazy
mirror.
Where she made faces at herself
much queerer
Than those r ho grin through col
lars for a prize
With bottle nose and dadaistic
eye
And cubic head and cabalistic
hair.
A drunken frenzy drove her on to
share
Caliban's freedom worship, en
ergy. And sublimate the phallic fallacy,
And put her trust in Freud and
gland and sex
And fear-pathology and neve
complex Till flappers and tmart-alecks
praised and banned
Grostesqueriet they did not under
stand; Thev banish beauty aht is not
hard-boiled.
No flaunter and they alienate
the spoiled
Romantic love with hook and loud
bazoo.
From gnomic prattle and from
hullabaloo
We hsva came through.
This roaring decade we are liv
ing in
Haa tplashed the night-clubs with
synthetic gin;
Sophistication with a leproua
smut
Infected every empty occiput;
But financiert began to plunge and
pilfer
Moths ate the credit and rust bit
the silver;
And when the oldeat banks blew
up and butted
We lost colna that said In God
we trusted.
Beauty departed art turned industry-Fancy
and faith and hope fid-
dlededea!
The spirit cookt itt weinert on a
tkewer
In a tin trailer alwayt on detour.
Stop, Jeremiah I By the way you
blast it.
The world haa gone to hell and
way on past it.
No! When you study progrest you
will find her
One-half flwer. one-hslf In
OWNSEND
variety of smart
your Cornhusker
It is advantageous
proofs are accepted
comfy for winter evening
wear. $3.05 at Ben Simon's
1st floor.
BEFORE THE BALL ap
proaches one day nearer.
Mist Agnes invites you to
consult her about rc-styling
your hair for that lovely new
hairdress for Dec, 4. B3122
B6971. Cornhuskir Hotel.
TO CARRY THE NEEDS
OF YOUR VANITY (so that
your date won't have to) you
may have a formal bng to
match any costume pearl
beaded, gold-sequined, tapes
try - brocaded, even roomy
satchel bags. Ben Simon's 1st
floor. $1.95 and up.
FORMALITY A FOOT no
longer mrnns stratosphere
heels. At Culver's, heels low,
medium, and high, according
to the altitude of your date.
Gold kidskin, silver, paisley,
and crepes for tinting. See
them in Culver's window and
then on your feet.
FOR THE DAZZLING
LIGHT OF THE BALL
ROOM, Kathleen Mary Quin-
AMPl S CALENDAR
Tl KM) V.
Mnia lrltn ( hi, mmn. IdiM ( upltul.
toed nunnrlnr Hoard, noun, t.lrn
Hmllh.
I'nbllrlly rt,mnillln l"r MllllHry Hull,
4:4.1 p. m.. -Mnjor Sir ' nlflrr.
KoMnri Kluh, A i. m.. rvlionl l .Munr.
r.prnt, ft p. m., Mien smith.
Ifl, i p. n,., t.ilrn Mniih.
4 hrm Sfhiml, : p. ni.. Mlrn nnlli.
MIm Asnr., RpriikiT.
In
sausage-grinder;
And when you get your history
tocus
You're falling upward by some
hocus-pocus.
Downward by generations, up by
ages
Whether in simian or saga stages.
Of Vieroes who get worship past
belief
Odysseus was a liar and a thief;
And Aristotle thought the human
brain
Just oiled the eyeballs. The la
ment's inane.
And anciet, that the muses and
the graces
And the virtues have departed.
Cynics shout.
"Old Andy Jackson threw the
bathtubs out
Which proves '
That science may reply with new
Glories of light on B. O. and I. Q.
But wit and will may vegetate
through peace;
In bidding spades the brain may
grow obese.
Thank fortune for the thunders
and the fears
Storming down all the forty vital
years!
For all but dust and drouth our
thanks are due.
Here in Nebraska where we have
come through.
Discouraged Illations . . .
SHIIITS
flnnhed for
Onlv 10c
with Bachelor
Rough Dry Service
"Lot The Evans llv Your YaW
CLEANSING TREATMENT
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t
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and refreshed.
Don't miss this opportunity to receive authentic advice
and on unusual bargain.
Biing this sd to our toiletries section and present It to
Mitt Mary Goodwin and she will present you with a pre
sentation kit.
PUDGE'S Strtrt Floor.
7
.:.
.Ian advises Mist of Dawn
liquid finishing cream ami
Foudie dos relies face pow
der, delicately perfumed, to
prevent that "shiney" look.
Complete the illusion of your
loveliness with a blending
shndc of lipstick and rouge.
Ben Simon's 1st floor.
LOVELY AS A PK.'Tl'RK
if you would like to keep
that impression ns you will
look the night of the B.'ill,
then have Harold Cox photo
graph you in nil vnur formal
loveliness. B1P8S. '1123 O.
diiqJtlhjJiiL
Oil Uisl dih.
.. .. By Elwood Randol.
A dr.imntic episode starring Claire
I Fevor,
I Bi gins tonight a grand endeavor,
! To ele.in up "Big Town" of racket
and vice
As Ed'lie G. Robinson breaks the
ice .
At eight Al TYarce conducts a
quiz,
To find who gives a care,
Whether his program remains
ns is.
Or whether it leaves the air.
At. bn!f past eilit on the caravan,
UK'p college t ikes tf.,! ether.
At nine o'clock that rhythm man,
Professor Goodman is tiie teafher.
At nine thirty tune in on your
radio,
And hear AI Jolson's Variety
Show,
With Stooges, Parkakarkus ami
Have,
And Victor Young's boys who can
really play!
TYPEWR ITEMS
Alt standard rrakei for tale or rent.
Uwd and rebuilt machine! on eaty
ternii.
Nebraska Typewriter Co.
130 No. 12 St. B2157
Lincoln, Nebr,
Watch out when they begin to droop,
or they will leave you. The Evans
will give them a new gnp on life
and mend those little tears also
when you send your wearing apparel
to us.
Studio at
226 So. 1 1th St
6-1129
X lV" ?."ir:'T"?
