Indianapolis Times, Volume 40, Number 98, Indianapolis, Marion County, 13 September 1928 — Page 8

PAGE 8

THIS HAS HAPPENED SYBIL THORNE. Boston society girl, concludes a whirlwind romance by marrying on shipboard in Havana Harbor, a man she has known just five days, RICHARD EUSTIS, dangerous and fascinating. x With MABEL BLAKE, a social worker, Sybil had left Boston for a trip to the tropics to try to reach a decision regarding CRAIG NEWHALL, to whom she has been engaged for some months. Newhall is a young and wealthy bachelor. but Sybil years ago had fallen desperately in love with a soldier, JOHN LAWRENCE. When Lawrence was reported missing In action Sybil took a solemn vow never to tell another man ahe loved him. After the death of her father, for whose sake she had promised to marry Newhall, she questions the wisdom of her promise. Utterly miserable, she goes to Cuba for a rest and peace of mind. Richard Eustis is aboard, and Sybil finds neither rest nor peace. Eustis makes wild love to her. but not until the last night of the voyage does he propose. He tells her that he does not believe in marriage—that it kills love—but he would do anything on earth for her. In a mad moment Sybil consents. They are married. On their wedding night Eustis begins to show his true character. He gets intoxicated. Sybil is greatly hurt the next day. but finally gives in to his pleading and. as she says, “puts him on probation.” NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY

CHAPTER XIX ‘‘CEND up some whisky and soda," Rjchard ordered the operator, "and shoot it right along, please.” When it came he poured himself & generous drink. “God knows I need it,” he muttered. And shortly he had another. When Sybil came back he was nibbling nuts to hide his breath. Mabel joined them in the afternoon. She had met a salesman from home, selling paper novelties, bon-bons and confetti and steamers. “And those little do-dabs go across like wildfire,” she explained. "The Cubans are such funloving, childish people. Mr. Moore was telling me this morning about their noise-making contests. The garbage squad won the last one, with the ice cream wendors second, the newsboys third, and the cartmen fourth. “They wouldn’t let the taxi drivers compete. Mr. Moore sells paper caps and horns and things by the truck load. He’s awfully nice. He took me out to the cemetery this morning, to see the bone pile.” “What a romantic morning!” Sybil giggled. “Oh, but you don’t know. It was quite thrilling. You see they dig up the graves every once in, a while, when the survivors of the dead get behind on the rent. It’s dreadfully gruesome. You don’t buy grave lots in Havana like we do at home. You rent them. Then if you don’t pay the rent, the dead tenants are dispossessed.” Richard laughed teasingly. “Ask your genial friend if he knows any more nice little trips,” he i-ug-gested. “Perhaps he’ll take you to the slaughter house when you get back to Boston, Mab.” “Oh, shut up!” she ordered, and continued excitedly. “We saw something else awfully interesting, too. There’s an orphan asylum that was founded hundreds of years ago. On one side of the building there is a little sheltered alcove where a big oasket swings. ‘ People who have babies they do not want slip into the alcove at night time, in the dark, and put their babies in the basket. Then they pull a rope, and the basket goes up on a pulley where a Sister of Charity sits and waits. No one ever knows who the baby is, nor where it came from. “Once Mr. Moore drove past the asylum very early in the mc-rning, and he saw a girl with a bundle running down the street. She ran into the alcove, and he saw her undo the bundle. It was a little baby, of course. She kissed it, and kissed it, and he said she was crying like everything. Then she put it in the basket, and pulled the rope. “Mr. Moore asked a policeman about it afterward. He wondered if a girl could get her baby back, if she wanted to. But the policeman said no. It seems that every mark of identification is destroyed, as soon as the Sister takes the baby. And women who leave their children are never permitted to enter the building.” Richard unfolded his long legs, and, stretching lazily, interrupted irrelevantly. “Come on, you two, and have a •little cocktail. The first today. a tt A 1 ND so the days passed—until Sybil had been away two Weeks. Mrs. Thorne, at the dinner table at home, was reading a letter the day’s mail had brought. Five times she had perused it in solitude. But now Tad w T as home, and she must read it aloud. Valerie was there, too. Crackling the sheets with anticipatory pleasure, she began, holding the paper close to her faded eyes, and glancing occasionally at the son of her heart: “Havana is wonderful! Picturesque, hot, huggy, smelly, expensive. The women are beautiful. And the men all leer. “Yesterday we went on a picnic, out in the country, where the children don’t wear any clothes. Today we had tea at a wonderful place ■where coffee is a dollar a cup. We’ve won money at Jai Alai, and lost it at roulette. I’ve bought linens and perfume for everyone, and a shawl and a comb and earrings for Val.” “My goodness, Valerie!” Mrs. Thorne beamed at her daughter-in-law. “Sybil bringing you home all kinds of things.” “Well, Tad paid for them, didn’t he?” “Val, you’re a little crab.” Tad pinched her cheek good-naturedly. Mrs. Thorne looked worried. “It’s strange,” she said. “Craig hasn’t had a line—just a cable saying she would write later.” “Well, if there’s a man in sight you know Sib has grabbed him,” put in Valerie. “Lay off Sib, will you, Val!” “What are you so touchy about, Tad Thorne? I guess if Sybil wanted to say mean things about me, you’d never open your mouth. Always sticking up for her and picking on me.” Valerie searched for her handkerchief. “You’re just horrid to me, Tad Thorne.” “That’s right, turn on the weeps! Never mind desert for me, Mother.” Tad threw down his napkin, and flung out of the room. Mrs. Thorne looked grieved. ! ‘ •

,“Oh, Valerie, dear, you shouldn't talk to Tad that way about Sybil. You know how wonderful he thinks she is, dear. Why do you say those mean little things?” ' “What did I say, for pity’s sake? He’s just a great big baby—that’s all he is. The way you and Sybil spoil him! Gracious! Mother says she thinks it’s perfectly awful. The way he’s used to being waited on—and pampered and babied. I simply won’t do it. Mother says I’d be an awful fool. He makes me just perfectly miserable!” “Why Val!” “I don’t care! He does. I wish I’d never married him!” Left alone, Mrs. Thorne tasted her tapioca cream apathetically, and sighing deeply, wiped her eyes, after the habit of years.

Blind rage did not attack Tony very often. A heart too generous and kind to intentionally wound others made it seldom possible for her to believe that others meant to wound her. When things hurt Tony, she found herself explaining them, and in the light of truth found it impossible to hold a grudge. But the old instincts did not work as she heard Peg calmly tell of the 200 engagement tea invitations which she had sent out with- - so much as a word to Tony. With tears of anger and panic, Tony fled to her room and flung herself upon the silver-blue counterpane without so much as kicking off her dusty shoes, and buried her hot face in the cool pillows. The room was dark with the liquid blackness of a summer night and her head throbbed madly when after what seemed hours, she lifted her hot face from the bed ami listened. There were voices below—Pat and Peg, sitting on the side porch. “The twp of you go hand in glove. I’m just nobody about this house,” Mrs. Tarver was wailing. “After all, what’ve I done? She let us find out from other people, the Talbots, without telling us herself that she was engaged. “But she didn’t deny It. Well, if a girl’s engaged, there ought to be an announcement party. No use acting as if you’re ashamed about it.” Pat was interrupting. “Perhaps you meant all right, Peg, but after all ,a girl’s romance is about as personal as anything she’ll ever have in her life. You can’t force a girl, Peg. “Somewhow I’ve felt from the very beginning that Tony wasn’t sure about this engagement— that Dick took a lot for granted and she just let things ride because she didn’t quite know herself what she wanted. A girl doesn’t, I guess, Peg.”

MAKING LENIN MORE THAN A MERE MYTH Valeriu Marcu Makes a Symphony Filled With Beauty, Death, High Ideals and Danger Out of His Life. BY WALTER D. HICKMAN THE literary world has been waiting for somebody to catch the real spirit of the man Vladimir Ilyitch Ulianov, better known as Lenin, and tear away the tapestry of myth that has surrounded his name so that we may be able to see the real man. That has been accomplished by Valeriu in his book, “Lenin: Thirty Years of Russia,” translated by E. W. Dickes, just published by the Macmillan Company of New York and selling at $5 a copy. Probably because March is gifted with that ability to make a symphony out of a biography by recording in melodious language as well as realism the effects of all the instruments which aided in making a career.

Marcu is inclined at times tc be really poetic and flowery but this style seems to be the correct dress in describing the life, aims and battles of a hunted “victim” of the czars and later on the very man who sat in the seats of the mighty of Rissia. The author has made a man and a leader out of Lenin. He has destroyed the myth. He probably has caught Lenin has lived and fought. Whether or not you agree with the theories and the acts of Lenin, I believe that you will agree that Marcu has painted a character in type that is one of the most outstanding individuals of his generation. Sometimes, Marcu may apear by his flowery language to be a little too sympathetic with his chief character but when you have completed the book, I firmly believe that you will realize that Marcu has “caught” the real Lenin. Marcu himself understands socialistic, governmental, revolutionary movements and how “reforms," changes and overthrows are accomplished in a government of a big nation. The thing that impressed me most with this book was that we have a chance to see how Lenin actually developed his government experiment step by step from the time that his brother attempted to kill a czar until Lenin put into practice his idea of government. We actually see Lenin yield, fight, scrap and even barter for the elements that go to make up a continually operating government. As Marcu relates of Lenin, after he has become the dictator, on page 295: “Lenin did -not accept the traditional unwritten law of opposition, ‘When in power, forget everything you have said before,* as sound advice for the statesman. But he could no longer speak merely as a propagandist and controversialist. “The first movements of power , had changed everything. | “He was responsible for the soldiers at the front, for peace and war.

SYBIL, at that moment, was helping Richard to tfieii: suite. “No thank you,” she told a courteous clerk, “I can manage quite nicely.” She saw the pity in his' eyes, and cringed. Oh, the humiliation of it: Bell boys stared. And the elevator operator, when they reached their floor, propelled Rich down the long hall. Gentlemen didn’t get drunk iu Havana. Only American tourists. Loud, vulgar people, doing something they couldn’t, do at home. It was like showing off. And so foolish. So utterly asinine. Richard was impossible when he was drinking. Quarrelsome, stubborn, argumentative. And stupid. His lower lip protruded. And he had a way of getting his clothe.: stained. There were times when Sybil hated him. Two weeks of it (To Be Continued)

But Peg would not yield an inch. “I know Tony,” she said. “She wouldn’t have let me give a party for her at all. It’s just because she thinks I don’t know enough. She’s afraid I’d disgrace her. “I’m going to show her that I can do things as well as that Talbot woman. That’s why I hired a social secretary. She said that she’d take complete charge and all I’d have to pay extra would be the orchestra and the catering. “I saw her list—all the best people in Stanton—the Moores and Montfords and—” Tony leaned her hot head oh the cretonned window seat, her heart heavy within her. “The best people,” Peg had gone and tried to worm herself in with invitations to a circle where they had never belonged and where "nouveau riche” like themselves were even scorned and derided a little. “And they’ll all come just because I’m engaged to a Talbot,” thought Tony, angrily. “Theyl’l come and snoop and look over Mother and Dad and me and the house and go away to wonder how ‘the poor Talbots are bearing up.’ Mother’ll be her very worst and— I won’t go on with it. I won't. I’ll make Sandy take me away.” A car’s headlight sprayed over the dark lawn and into her room. It was Dick. Even in her near hysteria Tony smiled to think how little she had seen of her newly betrothed. And she shivered a little too. Somehow she knew that her whole life had its answer in this evening with Dick. She arose, slipping off her rumpled dress. She would not dodge. She would go down to Dick and tell him all that was in her heart and when morning came she would be at rqst—either Tony Tarver, really engaged and willing to submit to an even an unasked-for engagement party, or Tony Tarver, free as the night wind, with all life before her. To Be Continued. i

Ulianov was aware of the powerlessness of the army and the hopes this was arousing among the Germans. The Premier resorted at once to the diplomacy which he had used in past battles with coffeehouse opponents . . . he sprang up at once, without waiting for a sign from the Presidium, and spoke the words which became the starting point of Soviet diplomacy: ‘ we are not afraid of a revolutionary war. It may be that the imperialist Governments will leave our appeal unanswered. We shall not deliver an ultimatum which they would easily reject. . . . For some of our conditions we shall fight to the end, but for others it will perhaps be imposible to go on fighting. The point is that we want to end war.’” We can take an intimate look into the mental working of Lenin as he saw dream after dream broken and we see him patching them up but always keeping his ideal fresh and lofty. We see him swell with power mentally, but always keeping himself looking like an ev-ery-day Russian. He never absorbed the luxury of the ruling class. He knew how to arouse mass and mob action against his enemies from within, but he generally failed with those from without. Here is a remarkable book, and one that I recognize as one of the most complete contributions to the Russian problem as expressed in literature. To the serious reader, “Lenin” will be welcomed as an intelligent study of one of the most unique and powerful characters of modern times. Read this one if you are a serious reader. Indianapolis theaters today offer: Charlie Davis, at the Indiana: Dick Powell, at the Circle; “Street Angel,” at the Apollo; “Excess Baggage,” at Loew’s Palace; Joe Boganny’s comedians, at the Lyric; “House of Bondage,” at the Colonial. and “Naughty Nifties,” at the Mutual.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

OUT OUR WAY

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BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

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EItEUiiLES AND 111S FRIENDS

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WASHINGTON TUBBS IT

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SALESMAN SAM

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THE BOOK OE KNOWLEDGE

There was nothing of the weakling about Abraham Lincoln, but he bore a terrific burden, and when he was re-elected in 1864. it seemed as if he carried more than he could endure in heart and mind. But with the sure hand of a leader of men. he guided the nation into peace at last, with the surrender of the noble Lee at Appomattox in 1865. 9 ' ,:s

—By Williams

The country went wild with joy. but five days later was plunged into an abyss of sorrow as the news came that Lincoln had been,assassinated.

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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The president was shot in the head by an actor. John Wilkes Booth, as he sat in a box in a Washington theatar. 9-13

SKETCHES BY BESSEY. SYNOPSIS BY BRALiCUEU

Booth was shot in a barn after he had eluded pursuit for twelve days. After the first fury of revenge had died out, the people came to realize the real bitterness of their loss. "This was a man," the nation said as one, and the words were uttered with a sob. Vice President Andrew Johnson of Tennessee became, president. (To Be Continued) Sktwhm .1* S,no*M.. CopyrnM. 19>. TX CroliT Soc-ty. 9-|3 j

.SEPT. 13, 1928

—By Ahern

—By Martin

—By Blosser

—Hv Cr.Tne

—By Small

—By Cowan l