Decatur Daily Democrat, Volume 34, Number 28, Decatur, Adams County, 1 February 1936 — Page 2

PAGE TWO

CLEVELAND, DALLAS FROM PAGE OJTO. Eaton of Yale. Arthur L. Campa of the L’nlveiwity of New Mexico, tVn

DENIED' 7 “ by LOUISE LONGandETHEL DOHERTY

SYNOPSIS To offset the gossip attendant on the notoriety accorded the marriage of her fiance, Kent Damerell, to the supposedly dying Cora Manning, his former sweetheart, Sharlene Standring, young California society girl, marries Stuart Pennington, a struggling, young artist. Kent had granted Cora's plea that they marry, both believing she would die, but Cora recovers. Sharlene’s thoughts are all of Kent, but she tries to be fair with Stuart and tells him she wants to be a real wife to him. He says he can wait for her love. Sharlene enters into a life of gayety to forget . . . and the faithful Stuart follows, trying to shield her from serious harm. One night Sharlene goes to Stuart's room. He does not hear her enter. Shartene finds him with his head on the table, arms outstretched, fingers clenched. She realizes then the silent battle Stuart is fighting becanse of his love for her and chides herself for being unfair. Seeing Sharlene. Stuart cannot refrain from taking her in his arms. Next morning, he fears she will loathe him, but she is filled with pity, realizing that he knows it was of Kent she was thinking. In India. Sharlene and Stuart strike the most harmonious chord. Returning home, Sharlene reads in the ship's news that Kent and his wife are leaving Los Angeles. Their ships pass, and the old. poignant longing grips Sharlene —with Kent so near and yet so far away ! She watches the other liner until it disappears. CHAPTER XXil fStuart still stood where she had left him. In spite of all his inward preparations, he was hurt. But, he told himself as he, too, watched the disappearing ship, it was his lucky break that Kent Damerell was on that ship. More time to strengthen the bulwark! Sharlene rallied herself and came hurrying back to Stuart. “Let's go in. I can't bear to see sunsets fade, can you'”’ \s they reached her door, Stuart > asked qui-tly: “Would you rather have dinner sent up here. Shar-|

Icne ’Why? Oh. did you think—? But it's swell that he’s nunc —he and his ici/i There won’t be any awkwardness "hen we get home. ’ She nodded sagely at him and to all appearances was ijuite herself again. She was a gay and sparkling Pierrette at the Masquerade party that night. Stuart, in cap and bells, watching her from the sidelines, was relieved, for he knew that when she was really hurt, she always crept; into his arms for comfort. And that had not happened for a long, long time. He fell to planning happily how he and Sharler.e would grow together, in resuming thmr normal life at home. A stout Desdemona and an angular hula dancer approached the cats next to Stuart. He hastily adjusted his mask and sank back in the shadows. They took the i chairs and hemmed him in. • “W ho do you think’ll get the prize?” asked Desdemona, spreading her skirts complacently as she sat. ‘‘That. Standring girl. She always gets everything—she’s just that kind.” , “She didn't get much when she married her husband.” observed Desdemona. 'Well—don’t you remember the lory about the rich young man who iited her? And how she picked up this obscure artist? It was all in the papers. He’s nice enough, but he doer n’t amount to anything—just liras on her money, you know.” ■‘Funny how a girl will be choosy for years—and then pick up a crooked stick at last.” “Oh, well —it won’t last long. Those things never do—” tuart rose determinedly. ‘‘l beg your pardon,” he said firmly, and squeezed through between their chair . As he walked off. bells jingling on his fool’s cap, Desdemona asked: "Who’s that man in motley'.'” “I don't know,” frowned the hula 'lancer. "He needn’t have walked rver us—thinks he’s so important!” Stuart got his overcoat and made his wav to the deserted hurricane deck. Pacing it rapidly, back and forth, he was more than ever determined to get. to work, but no longer 'for th< pleasure of creation. He was consumed, at last, with the desire to maki iioney—a great deal us money. He hud still to tight. Kent Damerell for the possession of his I — .

THIMBLE THEATER NOW SHOWING—“FREE WHEELING” By SEGAR ftREVOIPJ 1 7 COLUMBA?) TOWCREW-WRe r" COURSE-. J Z—X Bt SOSPRIIED IF ME k ii —sA’A'AJ Memberwe the / i ujas tawu' f 071 YOU BEFORE-) >VE GOT LEFT-) UiUFFI V ( SIR. ) THE WHOLE BLASTED \ ONE of}- I YOU’LL SHIP - SPINACH AN’ Mt) -R' ft fl» ' 'I- i— ■ < BKlii

; X Botkin and 0. B. Jacobson of University of Oklahoma, Louise Pound of the University of Nebr&eI ka and J. Frank Doble of the University of TexasMiss Gertrude Knott, a Kentuck-

, wife’s love. He was grimly dcier- ! mined to be as well equipped as his . opponent in the eyes of the world. * * * Mrs. Standring was at the dock ■ next morning, manifestly glad to i have them back. Sharlene was bub- ■ bling with excited pleasure at all . the familiar sights. As soon as Mrs. Standring got them home, she showed them eagerly the changes • she had made in the house. She had : had the large attic in the north wing . finished for a studio for Stuart, and was inordinately proud of the largo North window she had had put in. The room was bare and light. Only a few canvasses and paints and his easel from his Hollywood studio furnished it. “I haven’t fixed it up yet, Stuart. I knew better than to clutter it with rugs and draperies. But 1 had a lavatory put in here, see? And you can have couches or anything you wish to make you comfortable. I’ll take you into the storeroom later and you can pick out—” “That junk!” scoffed Sharlene. “Stuart has to have beauty around him, and, mother, this studio is going to be the heart of tffe house. It's got to look right. We'll go down town and select everything new—or perhaps antique—” Stuart put his arms about Mrs. Standring’s shoulders: “You’ve done nobly by me, Emily. The north light—everything—is grand! And it’s a real workroom. I can't bear stuff around when I’m working. I think—just a couch to lie on when I get lazy, and a chair or two—” “But Stuart,” protested Sharlene, l “I want it charming—to bring people up to tea—” “They’re not coming up here to tea, Sharlene.” He spoke with a firmness she had never heard from him before. “This is a place to tporfc.” She was completely taken aback and it was on the tip of her tongue to say: “But it’s my house—” Suddenly she was appalled at how near she had come to saying it, humiliated to think that, such an idea could enter her mind. Stuart's flush showed that he had ; read her thought as plainly as if she had spoken it. “Os course,” she said, quickly.

; “It’s your sanctum, to do with as t i you please. But don’t you think we 11 ought to go soon to Foreman’s and - pick out your pictures we want to i- save? How would it be to hang - them here, if this room is going to i. be bale—like a gallery? You ' wouldn’t mind if we had people up f - here to see them—when you weren’t , working?” , Stuart’s heart sank. He saw his 1 hope of reimbursement through his 5 pictures slipping away. Os course, . she didn’t know that and he couldn’t i tell her. She’d offer to pay him • money for them, as she was pay- ? ing for everything else now. • "Look here, dear,” hr said desperately, “I’d really like to sell ■ those pictures—get ’em into circu- > lation you know. So I hope you r won’t care to choose more than one : or two for yourself. It isn’t as if I wouldn’t paint more for you—you’ve got a mighty prolific painter ■ in the house now! I’ll make murals for you all over the place—” “I won’t let you? It isn’t good for you to grub all the time as you used to. You can take time to play, now. And I happen to want these particular pictures. . . . This gallery iaea is rather intriguing, don’t you think so?” Her eyes were sparkling as she scanned the walls, planning future, exclusive exhibits. “Please, Sharlene,” he said, putting his arm about her. “don’t drive me out to the garage by making a Greenwich Village joint out of this. That would disappoint your mother. She’s fixed it for a narkroom for me.” “You listen to me, Stuart. You’re going to have oodles of time to work—undisturbed. But. I’m so proud of you! I want to give a million parties to show you off—” Stuart frowned with sudden, painful remembrance.... “A crooked stick.” . . . “I suggest.” said Emily Siandring. pacifically, “that Stuart have regular working hours during which he is not to be disturbed—the morning, say—” “Don’t let’s be arbitrary about it,” objected Sharlene. “Sometimes he’ll want to ride with me mornings—or swim. He can paint when he’s in the mood—not slave at it 1 like ar. office man at his desk." ' “What if the ’mood' comes on me juat when you want to swim?” “Well I ran be generous,” she!' laughed, "if you can. We'll make it ■ fifty-fifty,” I

tan, in director. Site organuea the i Dramatic League at St. Louie, and . out of this grew the National Folk ■ I Festival. ' —O' 11 Trade in a Good Town — Decatur

Mrs. Siandnng had moved over j to his easel. “What’s this you had . started, Stuart?” He came to look at the partly t blocked in forms, the few splotches > of raw color on the canvas. He ■ shook his head, smiling ruefully. 1 “I had an idea—l thought it was • great at the time. . . . I've lost it ' now.” I "Don’t you remember at all?” ' “I remember what started it. I : found this verse in the Bible: ’The ' full soul loathes an honeycomb but , to the hungry soul—every bitter ! thing—is sweet.’ ” : His words, slowly spoken, fell into a deep well of silence. Sharlene was staring at him while the words echoed in a heart desolate ’ since the inexorable passing of the ship into the flaming West: “To the hungry soul—every bitter thing —is sweet.” Stuart still gazed at the vague outlines on the canvas “I’ve lost it,” he said. “Whatever I intended to do. ... f wonder if it will come back?” Sharlene slipped away unnoticed. Back to her room, where she locked herself in. Then she took from an inner drawer of her desk a little picture of Kent Damerell in a feather frame. She looked wistfully into his face for a long time. “To the hungry soul—every bitter thing—is sweet.... I don't hate you any more, dear. I don’t hate you any more. . . .” Hours later she sought her mother and found her in her own sittingroom upstairs. “Didn’t Kent ever try to make any—explanations, Mother?” "I haven’t seen him—except at a distance at big functions. One letter came for you by airmail after you had sailed to Honolulu.” “What did you do with it?” “I saved it. I thought it wa« better nut to send it on to distress you then. But I felt that I had no right to destroy it.” “Where is it?” Mrs. Standring hesitated, then sighed a little and turned to her desk. She gave Sharlene a thick envelope, plastered with airmail stamps, unopened. Sharlene turned it over and over in her hands, think-

. mg. a "Only one letter.... He got news , I of my marriage through the news- , papers after that, of course.” . . . , She took the letter to her room ■ to read. When she had finished it, • she looked a long time into the ’ depths of the trees outside her win- . dow. unseeingly, for her eyes were e full of tears. “What a fool I was,” she thought ’ bitterly, “not to wait! He was going to have it annulled. ... He had ! done what was right. ... He depended on my being big enough to understand—and I thought only of myself. I didn't think once of what I was doing to him. . . . Oh, poor Kent—oh, my poor Kent!” Sharlene s room was quite dark. She could no longer see the closely written pages of Kent’s letter in , her lap. She was roused by the sound of Stuapt racketing around the room next to hers, talking to Morton. Unpacking, no doubt. So, her mother had given him the Blue Room—of course! It had a door connecting with her room. After a while he came to that door and tapped. “Sharlene, are you there?” “Yes, Stuart.” She slipped the letter into the bosom of her dress. He opened the door, and peering in, described her faintly silhouetted against the evening light in the window. “Don't you want the light# on, dear?” He groped for the light switch, and the room became brutally illuminated. “It’s getting late. Katie says she put my dinner jacket in one of your trunks—why, yoa haven't unpacked!” “No.” Her tone was icy. “I told Katie I wasn’t to be disturbed.” “Oh!” He shrank sensitively. *T beg your pardon.” He whacked off the lights and went back to his Own room, closing the door rather firmly. Sharlene sighed, regretted that her own wretchedness had made her seem irritable to Stuart, and got up wearily to open her trunks and find his jacket. On the other side of the door, Stuart was standing, thinking fun ously. “Now, what have I done? If she's angry because I took a stand about the studio . . . she’ll have to get over it. I’ve got to work!” He went to his bathroom and turned on the shower. When he came back after his bath, his dinner i jacket lay on the bed. (To Be ConHuued,

DECATUR DAILY DEMOCRAT SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 1, 1936.

Adams County Memorial Hospital j Nell Thomas, son of Mr. and Mre. George C. Thomas, 411 North Fifth street, dismissed yesterday.

SYNOPSIS To onset the gossip attendant on the notoriety accorded the marriage of her fiance, Kent Damerel 1 , to the supposedly dying Cora Manning, his former sweetheart. Sharlene Standring, young California society girl, marries Stuart Penn.ngton, a struggling, young artist. Kent had granted Cora’s plea that they marry, both believing she would die, but Cora recovers. Sharlene’s thoughts are all of Kent, but she tries to be fair with Stuart and tells him she wants to be a real wife to him. He says he can wait for her love. Sharlene enters into a life of gayety to forget . . . and the faithful Stuart follows, trying to shield her from serious harm. One night Sharlene goes to Stuart’s room. He does not hear her enter. Sharlene finds him with his head on the table, arms outstretched, fingers clenched. She realizes then the silent battle Stuart is fighting because of his love for her and chides herself for being unfair. Seeing Sharlene, Stuart cannot refrain from taking her in his arms. Next morning, he fears she will loathe him. but she is filled with pity, realizing that he knows it was of Kent she was thinking. ... In India, Sharlene and Stuart strike the most harmonious chord. Returning home, Sharlene reads in the ship’s news that Kent and his wife arc leaving Los Angeles. Their ships pass, and the old, poignant longing grips Shatlene —with Kent so near and yet so far away! She watches the other liner until it disappears. Stuart stands by, deeply hurt but ready to comfort her. To add to his misery, he overhears some people, discussing Sharlene, say: "Funny, how a girl will be choosy for years—and then pick up a crooked stick at last.” ... At home, Sharlene receives a letter which Kent sent after she had left for Honolulu. Filled with remorse, she cries, "What a fool I was. not to wait!”

CHAPTER XXIII At dinner Sharlene was pale and listless. Her mother glanced at her anxiously, well aware that the letter she had so reluctantly given her had disturbed her deeply. Stuart was quiet, too, his jaw set a little belligerently when he fell into thought. Mrs. Standring studied them both and was ylad that there were no guests to witness this odd, strained home-coming. She reckoned, however, without A be Foreman who came dashing up to the house just after dinner to see Stuart. He wanted permission to make a sale of one of the pictures to a dealer leaving tomorrow for New York. “If your wife will just take the ban off, Pennington,” he begged. Stuart went back to the library, where Sharlene and her mother were having coffee. “Abe Foreman has a sale arranged for that negro canvas, Sharlene—you remember, the cotton pickers. You don’t want that anyway, do you?” Sharlene glanced up. a little bewildered. Her mind was very far away. “Why, I don’t know, Stuart—” she began hesitantly. Abe Foreman had pushed himself into the room, fairly quivering with eagerness. “Good evening, ladies. Excuse me, Mrs. Pennington, but you're making a mistake to cage his stuff up in your own home. The public will soon forget him—he’ll just be an amateur home-decorator. These pictures ought to be out in galleries, where people see 'em and talk about ’em. He’s got to get a name, I tell you. He’s just a local boy now. New York’s got to know about him—Paris—you can't let him be just a flash in the pan! Besides, you got money enough to buy ’em all back some time.” Sharlene shrugged. “Go ahead. Sell them, if it’s best. But do save me that little tragic figure leaning on the wall—” “Oh, sure, sure!” Abe was beaming and rubbing his hands. “That’s a nice little picture.” “Mrs. Pennington is coming down to select the ones she wants, Abe —’’ “No, no, Stuart. It doesn’t matter. Mr. Foreman has convinced me.” After the little picture dealer had made his adieux and bustled off, Stuart looked thoughtfully at his wife, wondering if her readiness to give up that long-cherished project —which sounded like sudden indifference to him and his work—came of their slight tiff that morning. If so, she was more spoiled than he had dreamed. An uncomfortable silence ensued until Sharlene excused herself on the plea of a headache and went upstairs. Hours later, Stuart persuaded himself that he had been harsh and unkind about Sharlene in his thoughts, and with the impulse to make it right with her, he tapped softij at her door and turned the knob It was locked! He stood there, startled, but unwilling to believe, and called her name gently. There was no answer. Sharlene, with uarre. of Kent's

> Otto Havorman, routs 2, Ohio | City, admitted today, major opera- | tion. i Arthur Worliug, route 1. Decatur. . admitted today, major operation. i o T.-ade in a Good Town — Decatm

letter spread out </n the bed. was lying dry-eyed and miserable, staring at the ceiling. Stuart’s gentle knock did not rouse her from that deep, unhappy absorption in the past. Stuart could not sleep as he fumed about her action. Did she mean that she was through with him—or was it just a mood ? He would not talk to her about it: He did not know her well enough. He would have to go quietly along until the spoke. Odd how the matter of money seemed to reverse their positions. Again he speculated about women through the uges—how each had waited, mute and patient, so- the expression of her Lord’s desire. If he were the Lord and Master here, would she have dared to lock her door against him ? The next day Sharlene was plunged into the “welcome home whirl of telephone messages, notes, flowers, invitations ar.d n stream of callers. She pulled Stuart into the

LBr kid Os W - z-JW 1 J Its Wxxffc wWvf Mr ! IS When finally Abe Foreman brought up a substantial check and the picture for Sharlene, Stuart took then) to her.

maelstrom, and all day he met new people and greeted those whom he had known casually. Between times, he and Mrs. Standring got his studio ready for work, and he telephoned an order for artists’ supplies. Sharlene's strange mood prevailed, lying under all the hectic excitement. And it persisted as the days passed. To Stuart, who did not have the key—that bulky airmail letter—her actions were inexplicable. He had never seen Sharlene like this. She was op edge, though too well-bred to be downright disagreeable. She went through the mad routine of every day with a hard, brilliant kind of gayety, but invariably he was treated to the reaction—a silent and remote Sharlene. At times she seemed almost to hate him. As a result, he retired into his own shell and suffered. He tried to work early mornings before the luncheons and teas, the dinners and parties, the golf and tennis, and polo and swimming caught them up and danced them about like leaves on the lawn. But he spent most of his time pacing the big, bare studio, trying vainly to get an idea. All he could think of was Sharlene. It couldn’t be altogether the Kent Damerell thing. They understood each other about that. It was something new—something which was growing up between them. Since he believed now that her world looked on him as a “crooked stick,” he began to be sure that Sharlene was thinking the same of him ... and that explained her indifference. . . . It was a vicious circle. Unless he could work—and make money—he could never stack up in her mind with Kent Damerell, the successful. And getting stirred up like this all the time kept him from working—and making money. When finally A’»e Foreman brought up a substantial cheqk and J the picture for Sharlene, Stuart took them to her, along with his little notebook. Her door was open and she called to him as he hesitated outside. She was sitting at her oesk, in a maze of letters and invitations, just finishing a telephone conversation: ,

,[ Th) annual Well* county flsh win be held in Bluffton Wednesday February 4. A number of De ». lur p ople aro planning '<> *‘ ten { the banquet, including Counts I Agent Archbold «"<» Go(,n!0 ' ’ ir Krick —.—*

, ; d.stractediv through her hair. I He lifted a huge basket of flowers ! aside from the desk, and propped > the canvas there for her toj see • studied it a long time. She nan ' wavs loved it for its tender beauty, > but never understood it before. Now . she knew its tragic face for Love Dt “Thank you, Stuart." » h< ’ sa “* i last in a low voice, ’ I d rather ha c I this than all the other pictures put ' the check down before , her. She looked at it ■ when she .saw that it was endorsed over to her own account. t “Please take it, he begged. ' ‘ But I don’t understand— He , handed her the little notebook and ’ she saw the items: SmalLper? » expenditures for himself on the tnj

and since. Flowers he had bought for her. Even the little old jewelled brass elephant they had found in a bazaar at Udaipur. . . . With a spasm of tears she closed the note-book. "What is it, Stuart ?" she cried. “Do you hate me so—that you can’t share my money?” "No, no, Sharlene. I don’t—hat'’ y0u.... Can't I make you see? It’s because I must have—at least—your respect—” “But I couldn't respect you more —if you had money. I respect you for being a very gallant gentleman —for putting up with me—for having a gorgeous talent. Why, Stuart, can’t you see that I think more of you for being able to paint that picture—” and she flung her hand toward the lovely, unhappy figure on her desk, “than as if you had a'.l the money in the world ?” He went over to stare out of the window a long while. She had not said the words he was hungering to hear when he had given her the chance. She said he had her rexpee!. . . . He came back to her again. “W ill you take the check, please, Sharlene ? Even though I know it's only the first installment of what I owe you, it will help me to bear things—” "Bear things ? . . . What do you mean ?” "I mean—niy position here. Char itj—without love—” “No, no, Stuart!” she protested, but her tone was not wholehearted. “Do you want me to stay on here ?” he asked abruptly. She sprang to her feet, tumbling a lap-full of letters to the floor. “Stuart, you mustn’t make any scandal—just as we’ve come home —and everybody is wondering—you must stay by me! Promise!” He shrugged wearily. "As vou wish.” She put her hand on his arm beseechingly. “Stuart, I know I’m being a pig—but stand by me—bear with me a little while longer! I’ll try to be—-a decent wife—” “Don't bother to try,” he said harshly. “I don’t want you. I ju«t want a chance to work.” He left the room. She was hurt by the cruelty of his last words, and yet she knew she deserved them. fTo Be Continued)

marketreports — ■ - daily report of local AND FOREIGN MARKETS Brady's Market for Decatur, Berne. Craiflvllle. Hoafllend and Wlllehlre. Close at 12 Noon. Corrected February 1. No commission and no yardage Veals received Tuesday, Wed nesday. Friday and Saturday ion to i?o H’s 4 910 120 to 140 lbs 9 30 140 to 16<> B’s 9 70 IKO to ISO lbs. ...» 1010 190 to 330 lbs 10.00 230 to 270 lbs - 9-70 270 to 300 lbs 9.50 300 to 360 lbs 9.30 Roughs *•’*’ Stags —— ® 00 Vealers 12.00 Ewe and wether lambs.— 10.00 Buck lambs — 9.00 | Yearling lambs 5 00 FORT WAYNE LIVESTOCK Fort Wayne, Ind . Feb. 1. —(U.PJ— Livestock: Hogs. 25c higher; 160-180 lbs. $10.50: 180-200 lbs., $10.40: 200-225 lbs.. $10.30; 225-250 lbs.. $10.20; 250-275 lbs.. $10.02; 275-300 lbs.. $995; *O-350 lbs., $9.65; 140-160 lbs., $10; 120-140 lbs.. $9.75; 100120 lbs., $9.55. Roughs. $8.50: stags. $6.75. : Calves, $12.50; lambs. $10.25. — LOCAL GRAIN MARKET Corrected February 1. No. 1 New Wheat. 60 lbs or better 93c No. 2 New Wheat, 08 lbs... ... 92c Oats 20 to 22c Good ry No. 3 Yel. soy beans 7oc New No '4 yellow corn. 100 lbs. - 53 to 65c Rye CENTRAL SOYA MARKET Dry No. 3 Yellow Soy Beans ... 70e (Delivered to factoryl o * — ♦ Test Your Knowledge |j Can you answer seven of these | I ten questions? Turn to page | Four for the answers. ■ » 4 1 Name the oldest institution of ■ higher duration in the V- 8. 2. On which continents are rhinoieereses indigenous? 3. What is tho name for the sclent? of antiquities? 4. What is the name of the native Australian dog? •’>. Who wrre the Argonauts? 6. For whom was the state of Utah named? 7. Name the alloy of copper and zincs. Name the great battle between the Normans, under William, Duke of Normandy, and the English, mid i- King Harold. 9. who was Johann Kepl-r? 10. Who wrote "Travels With a Donkey?” i Those crisp salty muffin crisps ' are appropriate whenever Melba toast is in order. o f r ade in a Good Town — Decatur

JUST RECEIVED shipment of NEW SPRING dresses Mrs. M. Moyer 128 N. Ith st. PUBLIC SALE The personal property of the late Lydia Neuenschwandtr. •/$ mile west of Berne on State Road 118. on the J. M. Neuenschwander farm, on Wednesday. Feb. 19, 193fi. John C. Augshurger Executor. SALE BUCHER PROPERTY 513 WEST MADISON A line Home for Any One Close In Better Buy One of These Good Properties Now. Sale Feb. 4, 1936 Office of c. L. Walters, Commissioner.

1 1H s,x AM) _2 lil ” 1 FOR SAI J? young cow,. ' °liO calves. (■ (■ ~ • of Pleasant •M’-i’l- railroad, w v wg WA.C. r!D TO ‘W'durn L ; reply to n„ x v n ' ■ Decatur ' L W, N Can you ni.ik? ; ■ using th., letter, "PARAMo yr , .>■ *«'• F *■ Des Moti;,, I opportunity t r wln MAN WANTED ht Direst Rknown mi company town and farm tradr it terms. Expert .?■ sary. Nj investmett Chance tor '.i ll!n . d;. „’ come. Wi-i i- p. t (■ral Mam- ;. .. _, . Building, < eland. OU® j for renJ FOR RENT Xii-r ninJ in pi ivatc hoin,. q JTE privilege- 1’!,,,n, || — I—— Modern EtiquM By ROBERTA »■ ♦ — ._;iß Q What does r and h r.v , w ■ A tno a place imß ::::e qgfl a a s i:i all. • as in let. accent fir-: yvhabl?. II Q. H iw lons stetiH W B hen mj's ,~r.s.ni'B A. Twenty mt't :-j.. migß to reni.ii'i c - thirty minute < S i Q- Is it ennsid-red gsß to ci.■..)!, -ho ' fir.jffS itg a -t'.a- ■ a d'er eq! | A. This -= nmrely alki| ROY S. JOHNS AI'CTIOMEI Office. Roon I ' Peoples Loan 4 TUI Phones 104 and 'E Decatur, M Feb. 4—E. O. Bryant, DR Closing out farm sale. Feb. 6 —Chas, holler. I Ind. Farm sale. Feb. 7—Decatur Riven* I Sale. Feb. B—Wm. Johusoa I . Reed. 184 mile west, k* !of Yoder. Closing out ak Feb. lU—Fred Shiuksi, I i north. 2 miles east ot to Alien & Wells Co. line- < I out sale. Feb. 11—J. J. Eckhart-1 ' north of Rockford, 0. 5'M Feb. 12— Hoblett & Clemq Convoy, O . on Lincoln 4 Feb. 13—Ferd Barker. M of Convoy on Lincoln hWI Feb. 14—Decatur Rivero Feb. 15 —Frank Huss. * Yoder. Closing out sale. Feb 17—Eli Beer. 1 nftl of Honduras on road *l Closing out sale. J Feb. 18- Henry YakeJ north Kirkland high ;f * miles west and I l * mH» O | Decatur. Closing o« s’ l '- Feb. 18—Wm. Steva. rd ll I Marys, Ohio on No 54. cm sale. , Feb. 19—Homer MUM north, *4 mile west of Feb. 30—John nicKine»-4 south. 2 mile west of B* o * i ing out eale- — Feb. 21-Deeatat i Stock Sale. Feb. 32—Jacob Saffl > mile east, 'i niilew l1 ® 11 ! berrv. Closing out far® _ Feb. 24-KniffeleatW »* I mile east ot Monroevilk. « 1 out sale. u, ] i Feb. 37—Bert Margu"* ( of Monroeville on Lin«» way. Hog sale. #1 Feb. 2« - Decatur Stock Salt Feb. 29—W m. Me’B- - Ohio, Fair Ground Horn Cattle. "Claim Your 3al‘ Da ‘ e ; My service int*' i ter every oetail o _ j niorti dollars K- * your auction N. A. BIXLER optometri3 t tyes Examined, ulass«s f HOURS _ ; 8;30 to 11:30 12 ’ 3 “ Satuidays, * Telephone i«-