Indianapolis Times, Volume 37, Number 38, Indianapolis, Marion County, 24 June 1925 — Page 14

14

CHICKIE

The Sequel to

The Story of Chickie Chickie (Helena) Bryce was the only daughter of Jonathan and Jennie Bryce. She lived In a modest neighborhood In Indianapolis and was brought up Just as thousands of other daughters of families ot moderate means have been brought up. Finishing business college, Chickie went to work, in an office on Market St. In the same office were a number of other girls, including Janina Knowles, who had considerable knowledge of the ways of the world and who became a particluar friend of Chickie. In an office building across the alley worked Barry Dunne, a handsome redheaded law clerk, who had ambitions to get ahead in the world. Janina took Chickie to a party given by Jake Munson, millionaire, where she met Barry. Both Munson and Barry were attracted by Chickie. and she fell deeply in love with Barrv. The romance flourished and Chickie promised to marry Barry as soon as he made sufficient progress in his profession to make marriage possible. Barry had some business dealings with a Mr. Moore, head of a big steamship com?any, and through him mot his daughter, la. Chickie spent her vacation at a northern Indiana lake and was followed there by Barry. As their vacation closed, Barry told Chickie that he must go on an extended business trip, but promised to come back to her. _ ..... Later Chickie heard that Barry had left on a world tour on one of Moore's steamships and that Ila was In the party. Chickie became frantic when she learned that she Is to become the mother of Barry’s child. She repeatedly wired Barry and Anally he returned to Indianapolis only to teU her that he had been married for two * weeks. Chickie attempted to commit suicide by jumping Into the river, but she was rescued. Keeping her t-ecret from her family. Chickie went to a farm in the northern part of the State. In order to give her family an excuse fo~ her long absence, she told them she was working for the farm bureau. On that farm her child, a girl, was born. , , Meanwhile. Chickie had been receiving telegrams telling of the illness of her mother. Four days after the child was bora she received a message saying her mother was dying. Taking the child with her, she started through the bitter cold on a long walk to the railroad station. Intent on returning home. _ On the way the child died. Turning the body over to a doctor who promised to give it burial, she returned to her home, finding her mother recovering. Meanwhile, an investigation into the death of the child was started in the rural county. Chickie was summoned to appear at the coroner's inquest, and through this summons her parents and friends learned her secret. She testified at the-hearing and the coroner’s jury decided the child had died from natural causes. Chickie. her secret public property, her mind disillusioned, returned home to start life anew She was surprised at the friendly attitude of her friends and especially of Jimmy Blake, her childhood sweetheart. By Elinore Merehin CHAPTER I. The New Life S r " "1 HE loved. Now she paid. With each beat of her pulse she paid. There was no end of it —for her or for them —those that loved her so. A while ago she had been glad; bright, flippant thing, her heart all song. A while ago, Jonathan watched her every inove, his old eyes filled with adoration. He chuckled to the mother: “That Chickie of ours! An angel—that’s what she is!” The mother always answered, tremulous: “Ah—God is good to us.” But now the wings were folded down; the music stilled in Chickie’s thought. And they must give her up—their dear and pretty one—send her into the waste she had made for herself; se.’d her there alone. Bitter thing to do—stan<i in the depot, this soft, April night; wait for the train that would take her from them —let her go. . . wave gaily. Oh—but their hearts cried out against it. She was theirs — theirs—And tonight she seemed so sweet; so tall and slim with the pale sadness at her mouth. Jennie said; “You look quite pretty, C'hickie dear.” Ciiicr.ie stooped and fastened the leash to Wildie's neck. She patted her mother’s hand and didn’t try to speak because then queer little movements went about her lips, made them twist so. Jennie said; “Why, the light is very strong.” And wiped her eyes. Sheisaid that a dozen times. It was hard for her. She was so gentle; so howed by Chickie’s pain. But Jonathan stood up, giant and proud, his arms on Chickie’s shoulder. Ho, this was a lark for them, just a trip, nice little outing. He said: “Write now, Chickie girl, every day! Old ones get lonesome — remember!” Said careless things like that and winked. But Chickie, knew. For in the night she had awakened. Jonathan was kneeling at her bed. It frightened' her. She ran her hand across his grizzled head. He didn’t move—never said a word. Finally he rose and kissed her long. His eyes were wet against her face. Now he said: “We’ll be Jaunting down to see her week after next, eh mother?” Jennie smiled; tears rushed fresh to her eyes. She pulled at Chickie’s hand ;held it hard. For there came a whistling; a snorting of the train. Jonathan reached for the suitcases. .Tennnie said: “Oh, now—you’ll go? Going, Tfhickie dear?” Chickie smiled bewildered, repeated: "Oh, now—” and swept her arms about her mother, clung to her and clung In that moment would have given up her life to have them hold her; keep her with them. Jennie’s lips moved soft.'y: “Going, Chickie dear? Oh —on—” It was like sobbing. Chickie said: “Mother, mother, darling—there—oh, good-by—” and took the thin, soft hands, oh gently, from her neck, pressed the young, sWeet lips on Jennie’s faded cheeks. Still Jennie cried and wouldn’t let her go. Then Chickie laughed and with a little gay moVe took her handkerchief, wiped Jennie’s eyes. She said: “Mother, you love me? Oh, you do!” And grabbing up the leash went stumbling after Jonathan. Jonathan carried her bags, brush-

Puzzle a Day

I Z ' z p R yly 14 1 N

Here is a simple sentence written in a special code. Can you read it? Last puzle Answer: The difference between twice 35 and twice 6 and 30 is 30. Twice 35 equals 70 and twice 5 equals 10 and 30 equals 40. < . —•-

ing the porters aside. He set them quietly at her place. He passed his hand over his face that was so gray, it hurt Chickie to look at it. She lowered her head against him, pleading: "Ho, Jonathan, weakening?” There was a trembling through him, the rugged chin doubled. But he raised her face In his hands—that way he always did. He said: “Ah, Chickie—Chickie girl—” and stooped down quick and kissed her. . . . . said again— “Chickie —my Chickie —pray God—pray God—” She closed her eyes—heard him shuffle down the aisle. Alone—she was all alone now. Suddenly she remembered that they would wait there until the train was gone and she got up In a panic, rushed to the platfqrm. Another 100k —see them again. They were there—straining their eyes. They saw her. Jennie cried out. Both of them waved—began to laugh. They kept waving. Chickie blew kisses to them. Jennie took a little step toward her, called; the train began to move. Soon they grew smaller, faces - blurred. Still they waved—smaller—now dimmed—now gone—now swallowed in the dark. Ralls humming; rushing her away; from them; from all the old. familiar things—into the future. • • • ND she was yet smiled above her hammeri__J lng fears. Oh, brave —they said she must be brave—stand up quietly and battle. Jonathan asked that of her—only that. And there might come to her again a beauty—even a richness and a peace; even a healing of the wound that ached and ached within her heart. Chickie didnt ask this. Oh, no! Ask nothing. She stared now with blinded eyes into the dark; marked out the lights of the city. She fancied Jonathan’s hat still waved at her; fancied that Jennie wiped her eyes. She peered into this night that dropped like a wall between her and them, closing her out from that happier time—oh, those thousand days when 6he had laughed so blithely. Finished all* that. She wanted it so. Finished all joy. Let her go In quietness with bowed head and lowered eyes, unnoticed, forgotten. Tragic thing to ask of life when one is so young—just twenty-two. But this was Chickie’s prayer. She lay in her berth that night wide awake. When tears crept from her eyes, she wiped them slowly. Again, when she wondered why ehe had been beaten so, why she had been branded so, she made her lips smile. Past—all that was past. She must wipe it out —all of It, begin again. * Oh, not so hard —going away. That made fs easy—lose herself in a city of strangers. Finally e-he had decided on Chicago. No one knew her there. No one would stare and whisper when she passed. She would work. She would make no friends. Only the dog. They would take long walks. She turned her face against the pillow for suddenly Mary stood before her, then Janina, then Jimmy, his lips shaking, “You don’t love me —isn’t that reason? But if you change—” No—never wrong Jimmy like that and her heart all dead the way it was— Jimmy passed. Now it was Jake who came and took her hands—kissed them in that kingly way of his — Brave for them. . . Oh, yes. she could be brave! Such a thing as they had asked! Such a fight to put upon her —soft, trustir-g things; soft, loving thing. But she got off the train that sunny morning in the early spring. She raised her head proudly. She smiled" seeing a girl like herself caught in her father’s arms. < But when a young man rushed through the crowd, swept bodily in his arms a girl with a baby and there before everyone hugged the two of them again and again when Chickie saw that she turned She tugged at Wildie's leash and hurried. Not so easy, perhaps—not always easy— N But she walked resolutely. She

KT NEVER BETTER^gy

PeriftShoe SIORE

kept saying to herself, “Never mind —never mind—” Late that afternoon Chickie found her new home; found the scene for the fresh, hard battle. * A quiet place—roomy and comfortable, an old white two story house set in a neglected lawn. “Yes—Wildie could stay here— Mrs. Janls loved a dog—there was a big yard.” This was the determined fact. Now Chickie sat in the large, bare room. There was a white iron bed, a white dresser, a neat, faded pink carpet on the floor. The high walls were covered with calendars, poster girls—but Chickie could take them all down. She could fix the room to suit herself. She sat there and listened to other boarders going down to dinner; sat there and pictured Jonathan and Jennie all c.uiet —a'l lonely now. Her heart thumped heavily. The ol<. sweet ways of her girlhood were ended and with it the dream wnerein life walked so nobly, garmented In silver. She must find another path; another dream. She must go on anew road; cruelest road that ever a young girl takes; the road back, a fight each inch of the journey and all the world against her. But she knelt at the window that night. She clasped her hands against her breast; against the ache and awful loneliness. There was a prayer in her white, beautiful face. Let her not fail—oh, let her not go down again. She prayed that. CHAPTER 11. Spinning the Web \y j\ HITE azaleas, gleaming and chaste on a green bush—like ... a little garden flowering there in the corner of Chickie’s bare room. She touched the snowy petals. Her eyes misted reading the note, ’’Spring again, Helena, dear. Time for new blossoms. Send a line to an old dog, won’t you? If you have trouble getting a job, wire me.” She wondered in what rich spring Jake found such kindness. She wondered, too, at the passionate devotion Janina showed. It was a little pitiful, for Janina wrote In one letter, “Chickie, old thing, I could cut out my tongue when a think, perhaps, that stnarty alec things I’ve said may have influenced you. Did they? I.wish you’d answer this truly.” Oh, it was nothing that Janina said; nothing that any one could say. Nor could their friendship heal her now. She wrote to Jake, "You are too good to me. It makes me wish to cry. And I dare not do that, you know. I’ll write soon—in a few weeks. You cannot know how much ‘I thank you ” A thousand blossoms there might come this spring. They were not for her. It was pathetic, that she turned so resolutely from every glad and happy thing; that she said to herself so insistently, “No—let me be alone.” There was no love left in her heart. She had emptied It. There was no laughter In her spirit. Kings might kneel to her. No chord of joy would ever again respond. So Chickie felt—and faced a future, destitute of youth; of sparkle; faced it grimly, even proudly. Those first nights in the new home she wrapped this quiet about her. She went down to the dining room, bowed to her neighbors; spoke to none. She was unaware of the stealthy glances accosting her; unaware that the white beauty of her face was an astonishment and a lure. It would always be. Afterwards she took Wildie and walked swiftly through the strange, new streets. Chickie sat on an old broken wall —brooding. Tomorrow she was going to work. The typewriter company where she had registered phoned. The position was with a brokerage Arm—the type of work Chickie understood. Yet she had a reluctance to begin; an overmastering fear. And she sat, wishing frantically for some escape—oh, that the world might come to an end. Someone spoke to her. "Vista for dreams, isn't it. Miss Bryce?” She turned sharply. It was a

The New Life Begins As Chickie Goes to Chicago to Work— She Repels Friends.

man who lived at the boardinghouse, Edgar Manx, a pale, distinguished fellow about 33. He had a pleasant voice with a deep English accent and a winning smile. Every night he took a cane and went for a brisk walk. Twice already he had saluted Chickie, eagerly. Now he said, “May I sit here, too?” There waa an ease in his manner. “You're a wanderer from far places, too, aren’t you. Miss Bryce?” “Oh, not so far.” She glanced down quickly, .clasping her hands. They walked home rather silent. The man’s face was flushed. After that she i ften found his eyes dwelling on he-. He asked her to the theater—to mu.dcales. But no—she had her evenings planned—all of then. Ho —she could tell him things? Her refusal of this friendship offered so eagerly became a symbol In Chickie’s mind. She would go through life like thia, drawing further and furthers from men—until finally she would grow used to the lonelir.er" the still monotony. She would be old; no one would care that once she was a radiant thing; once she had love and had a little child and It was dead. • • • But the days passed; she did not grow used to it. When she went to work, it became an anguish and a terror. She began to dread the long evenlqgs: the return to her silent room. Sometimes, she would stand at the entrance to the elevated, talking a long while to the bent old woman who sold papers. Other times she watched the girls In the office, wondering piercingly if any of them knew life as she knew it; if any of them bore such a flaming wound. When Daisy Brack, a tall, witty person who made up for her homely feature by an exquisite cleanliness and a rather delightful impudence, caught her arm one afternoon with an impulsive “Say you, Helen of Troy, don’t be so uppish! I’m walking your way.” When she was so friendly, like that, Chickie felt a melting; a gratitude that brought tears to her eyes. There were ten girls In the office of Norp Willman. Six were young, and of these, four openly cherished dreams of movie fame. There were the little Ordin sisters with their molasses hair bunched in curls—an obvious and sorry Imitation of Mary Pickford. They talked mincingly with much pursing of their lips. But they were a harmless, good natured pair. Then there was skinny Bobby Jones. Bobby could make faces and had an idea that If once her eyes and nose could get themselves on the screen she would sit back the rest of her days and let the world laugh at her. She used to say that all the time before she was born her mother read the comics and as a result nature bestowed on her this little pilce of patchwork for a face. (To Be Continued) (Onnvrlsht. King: Feature Syndicate)

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