Indianapolis Times, Volume 40, Number 112, Indianapolis, Marion County, 29 September 1928 — Page 11

Re 9, 1928.

THIS HAS HAPPENED nHSirL THORNE. Boston society 9R®P§|jaa had a baby. And the whole talking. There are plenty of who do not credit the story of marriage. It was an nnforiDß affair and at the time secrecy advisable. SESjßbll was married in Havana harbsr EUSTIS, whom she net ■■■shipboard, and who wooed her Bnjßwntly for five days. The marriage two weeks, when Sybil left her for Justifiable cause and re■■Fned to Boston with MABEL BLAKE. Bat social worker, with whom she was at the time. SHBLeeks later she learned that she to have a baby. Then it necessary to tell her family, CRAIG NEWHALL, who had her sweetheart. The marriage was announced, and Sybil's child born. She had fully expected to Indifferent to the baby because of hatred she bore his father. But, ■to her own amazement, she worships son with all her heart. She bap■lees him EDWARD THORNE. In memof her own father, and renounces r for him HIS father. Sybil’s brother, TAD, is married to a Quarrelsome little girl named VALERIE. Valerie ouarreu with the whole family, and leaves, in one of her tantrums, to visit friends In New Haven, k NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY Bu CHAPTER XXXII breathed a sigh of relief, and reflected pleasurably, at QSvals thereafter, that he had gag Erie’s own word on the futility of for her. ■ went instead to Wianno, hav■sent his wife a check to ease fsMconacience. And there he found O ig on the sands with Edward. Sybil had gone to EgPknnis for a pink sport hat, and Kken her mother with her. ft “They left me,” announced Craig, RL mind the baby. Do you know,’’ Vm inquired plaintively, “why they sand? Infantile roughage, I Kppose.” We ran his finer expertly around ?~wbaby’s toothless cavity. ■ok at that! They say it's good Mens. Lay or bust. Makes shells, SMrnethirg. This kid will be layS&s3iwf Sib doesn’t look out. Just up—loves it. Regular goat— Hattie gourmand!” ■?ad poked the child affection■ly in the ribs, and spoke uncleEravell, old man! How’s the boy?” proffered a thumb, and ex■dmed proudly, “Look at that for Mferip, Craig. Gosh, the little felVs strong. Great kid!” ■presently a nursemaid, very corHct in crisp black and crinkling Ktiste, came to take the baby to Re house, so that the men were ■ft alone for the first time in many Months. B "Wonderful day,” commented ilraig. “Scorcher up town,” contributed Tad. "Been a pretty good summer?” i“Not so tough.” “How’s Val?” “Pine. Visiting a gigrl she used tq. go to school with.” ■‘Kver see anything of the old R>wd?” ■[Not a thing. The old crowd what it used to be—girls all Rp|e cuckoo. Lot of booze hounds.” - k t R'HEY sat in silence. Old wise With the cup of life HKieti sour at their lips, stretched his long legs and ■a cigaret. Men find it easier to Hk when they wreathe their heads smoke. ■"Tad,” he asked, “where’s that egg ■i married?” last I heard of. him. Kal estate in St. Petersburg. I had Brtectives on his trail for awhile, ■t Sybil, was set on letting things ■ft, and there wasn’t any sense in vffipwlng away money if she use the goods, once she got . Ri fact, she never knew I had de|vMves after him. Moore thought jjgfumped out to South America, that’s the story Sib has. It yftgd probably be easy enough to ■grounds for divorce, but it’s a ■p of a story to bring to court.” she allege desertion?” P “Well, you see, it was Sib who "walked out on him.” “How about nonsupport?” “Bring him to court on a charge dike that and all he has to do is his willingness to provide— VjJjUhe case goes right out the aWjOW.- ' PaJjlftm see, Sib's thinking of the t£S§ She’s been through an'awful jy&nd it seems to me that divorce ■RI be the last straw. KS e game’s not worth the candle, would she get out of it? A |ljf cheap talk and a bunch of ■lines. Did she ever tell you the reporters storming the when someone tipped them Bjißhat there had been a secret And that story about ■ftftkting the stork’?” groaned aloud. all the sickening inuendoes! And they dressed up tSyarn like a saccharine bedtime a tt tt Ktfglfi lapsed into mournful silence. ■[ Craig blew thoughtful rings. m lf the thing could be done half [decently,” he said, “I think Sybil [would marry me.” I Tad appraised his friend belligerfcntly. I “And do you know what people "would say?” he demanded. I Craig shrugged. “No—what would ■hey say?” ■ “Val’s mother had the nerve to Bell me the other day that the kid ftoks like you. Dolly Weston says ■■boo. Cute little loke of Dolly's. it's an open joke in the crowd. For God’s sake, ■■’hall was on his feet, flicking off his knickers. His face, as to his shoe strings, was Rfshed. but his mouth quirked huJnorOusly. 9 “Don’t be an old woman, Tad,” admonished. “And don’t let your ■ersonal viewpoint influence Sybil’s BapDlness.” M' Not a chance,” Tad assured him ■fOy. 'Sybil's got a mind of her ■m. and she's pretty much fed up ; B marriage, if you're asking me.” ■But Sybil's young,” insisted Rug. "and she’s not going to let H[hllanderer and an adventurer Eustis w r reck her whole life. HHif had a pretty tough time, you Tad. You're not going to ■mold all her hope for the fu■rl ■ad scowled unhappily. “She hai; I child,” he maintained stub■aly. "What more does she laughed shortly.

“Don’t be a fool, Tad,” he counseled brusquely. st tt * SYBIL was very busy that summer, and Craig had scant opportunity to talk with her alone. Sometimes he thought she deliberately avoided him. But once as they sat alone on the veranda, she tucked her hand in his, and drew him to the rail to look at the moon riding over the sea. “It’s so beautiful!” she cried with a touch of wildness. “It—lt makes me fearfully lonely. I can’t explain. It drives me simply crazy—a night like this. There’s no peace in it for me. It’s so hurtfully glorious. It—it—” She put her hand on her heart. And a thick, heavy silence fell upon them. The sort of stillness that falls when two people are in love and alone. Then, suddenly, the baby’s voice broke the spell. "Teddy!” she cried. And, slipping her hand from Craig’s, ran into the house. After that whenever he saw her, she talked of the child or of Mabel and her approaching wedding. It was as if she regretted the madness of the moon, and feared that he might speak of that night when she had talked so wildly of bequty and loneliness. ft tt MABEL was to be married in the fall. “I think myself,” admitted Mab, "it’s a perfect joke for old maids to get married in satin, and wear orange blossoms In their boyish bobs. But you know how it is with a sentimental gal like me. Lots of fireworks. "Mendelssohn's wedding march, and a veil, a carload of flowers, and trinkets in the cake. You only get married once, when you get to be my age.” Heart and soul, Sybil threw herself into the orgy of preparation. Dressmakers and caterers, florists and soloists. “Mab’s getting more kick out of it than a debutante,” she told Tad. “I envy her her enthusiasms. Did you know I’m to be her only attendant? Dolly Weston asked Val which she supposed the society editor would call me—maid of honor, or matron?” “Well, sib, you let yourself in for that sort of thing—insisting that the kid be called Thorne. You know how the wise-crackers ate that up. By the way,” Tad was elaborately nonchalant, “I wonder what Val sees in Dolly Weston’s gang?” “Oh, Val’s all right, Taddy.” Sybil made her voice very reassuring. “Did you know she’s hleping me chose my dress this afternoon? And we’re having tea together afterwards.” He beamed his approval. “That’s great, Sis'. I’d like to see you two playing round more together.” Sybil smiled. There were limits to everything, she reflected—and playing round with Valerie was one of them. Still, she would do a lot for Tad. And the girl certainly needed watching. “Don’t you worry, dear,” she told

THE NEW Saint-Sinner ByjJmteMustin C 1928 NEA. SIEVia, IMC-

“All right, girl dear! You’re all right. You’re not even halfdrowned,” a cheerfully casual voice came dimly to Crystal as she lay on the grassy ground beside the swimming pool. The voice belonged to that new man—Harry Blaine. So Crystal moaned and kept her eyes tightly closed. Above the thunder of neardrowning in her ears came Tony’s tender, loving, thrilling voice: "Darling Crystal! Why didn’t you tell us you couldn’t swim? . . . Don’t crowd, Idiots! This poor dear needs lots of air . . . Harry, you’ll have to buy Crystal anew cap. You’ve torn this pretty sunflower thing to pieces. "Feeling better, old dear?” Harry Blaine encouraged, as he quit pumping Crystal’s arms up and down. For Crystal had opened her eyes. “You’ll live!” Harry Blaine shouted happily. “Tony, I think you can give her the kind of first aid she wants, better than I.” He raised Crystal in his arms. "My hair!” Crystal protested tearfully. "Just look, Tony! It’s simply a mass of wet strings—oh!” “Wear my cap, you blessed idiot!” Tony laughed, snatching the blue rubber cap from her own head and tucking Crystal’s wet hair under it. “Now let’s go home . . . Dick, I think you’d better carry Crystal to the club house. She’s too weak to walk.” At Tony’s words Crystal relaxed weakly and gazed up at Dick Talbot. “I’m not a very big girl,” she reassured him wistfully. “I only weigh a hundred and fifteen.” Die Talbot’s black eyes glinted a somber and mysterious message into Tony’s commanding blue ones, and for a sickening moment Crystal thought he was going to refuse. Indeed, Harry Blaine filled the awkward pause by saying brusquely, “I’m probably stronger than you, Talbot. I’ll carry her.” But to Crystal’s joy Dick brushed him away, stooped and lifted her into his arms. The relief of the crowd of boys and girls was so great that they made the night ring with merriment, most of it jibes at Dick Talbot’s staggering progress with his burden. Crystal, one white arm hooked about his neck, laid her head, with a great show of weakness, against Dick’s shoulder. Her muddled thoughts ran on chaotically: “Os course Dick would have recued me if Harry Blaine hadn’t been closer . . . Darling Dick! I’ll never forget that you held me in your arms, against your breast ... I can feel your dear heart pumping . . . “You carried me because you wanted to, didn't you? I wonder if Tony is a little jealous. . . . But she wouldn’t have Jilted him if she . had really wanted to marry him, | and I do love him so. . . . ” Tony was at Dick’s side, to help

him lightly. “Val’s simply crazy about you—but she happens to be very modern. And it’s dreadfully old-fashioned, among the moderns, to be openly devoted to legal mates.” tt tt u THE wedding, as weddings go, was a great success. Mabel’s aunt wept, in the fashion of aunts, and Mrs. Thorne after the manner of old friends of the family. Sybil was beautiful in velvet that borrowed the warm crimson of sparkling burgundy. The groom camouflaged his bald spot effectively, and wore a gardenia in his buttonhole. Afterward Mabel cut her wedding cake in the vestry, and threw her bouquet from the stairs. There were more tears, and a great deal of confetti, and much meaningless laughter. Until, at last, she and Jack escaped in a closed car, loaned for the occasion, and drove to their hotel. They were taking the midnight for New York. "I don’t care if it is hicky,” Mabel had defended her choice resolutely. "’l’d rather see a lot of good shows than a few mountains and lakes.” “Don’t forget Grant's tomb,” teased Tad. “And there’s Niagara, you know. All real hicks go to Niagara.” "Whose honeymoon is this anyhow?” she wanted to know. "We’ll ride on the top o', a bus, and hold hands, if we wane to. I only wish Coney Island was open!” tt a u AT last it was over. Goodby . . . Goodby. . . . Tad drove Sybil home. "Faster . . . Faster! I can hardly wait to see my baby,” "Well —well—sweetycake! Didums miss oo muwer? Naughty muvver! Oh, he’s jus’ a nicest boy whatever was! Bess his little heart. . . . Angel child” The exquisite nonsense of mothers! Sybil was convinced that she had neglected her child. All the preparations for Mab’s wedding. Shopping, and fittings, and conferences. “Well, he was a poor little boy—and nobody loved him!” The boy laughed his delight. And, cooing rapturously, pulled his mother’s hair, and put his soft little wet mouth against her cheek, and beat her face, gleefully, with his tiny hands. "If I were religious, as I used to be.” Sybil told her mother. “I'd think it was sin to love anything as much as I love my baby.” Valerie adored the child. “I’d have one myself,” she declared, “if it wasn’t such a trouble. Ugh! I do love babies—but it’s so unesthetic, getting them. She crinkled her nose in a way that Tad had found entrancing some two years before. “Unesthetic your grandmother!” he told her brutally. “You're scared. That’s all that’s the trouble with you.” (To Be Continued) (Tad’s foolish little wife gets in trouble. Dolly Weston brings Sybil news of Valerie.)

steady Crystal upon her feet when the panting boy reached the club Her brief half hour In the spotlight was nearly over, Crystal thought miserably. At the thought she really went quite giddy, and swayed against the boy, so that perforce his arms went about her again. Then suddenly, amazingly, Dick was saying: “I think I’ve earned a kiss, haven’t I, Crystal?” And his handsome black head bent, his toobeautifully cut mouth came nearer and nearer to hers. (To Be Continued.) DEATH CASE TO WETTER Auto Crash Hearing Transferred Again. Manslaughter charges against Harry Buschman, 2624 N. Capitol Ave., were transferred back to the court of Municipal Judge Paul C. Wetter today. Buschman was held responsible by Coroner C. H. Keever for the death in an automobile wreck July 22 south of the city of Miss Vida Lee Nobilitt of Terre Haute. The couple were in Buschman’s car. Buschman’s case twice was continued in Wetter’s court and then transferred to Judge Clifford C. Cameron’s court. Today when it came up before Cameron it was sent back to Wetter, who set trial date for Oct. 26. HISTORIAN to speak Bar Association to Hear Lecture by Ross Lockridge. Ross Lockridge, historian, lecturer and educator, will address the regular meeting of the Indianapolis Bar Association Wednesday night in the Columbia Club. His subject will be “George Rogert Clark and Territorial Laws.” Lockridge, a former professor of history at the University of Indiana, is the author of two books on the life and works of the famous pioneer. Chiropractors to Meet R.II Times Special GARY, Ind., Sept. 29.—The Indiana Chiropractors Association will open a three-day State convention here Sunday to continue through Tuesday. Attendance of more than 1,200 is expected. Parish 75 Years Old Bjt Times Special SOUTH BEND, Ind., Sept. 29.St. Joseph’s, oldest Catholic parish here, will celebrate its seventy-fifth birthday Oct. 28. The parish includes 525 families.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

OUT OUR WAY

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BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

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FRECKLES AND lIIS FRIENDS

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WASHINGTON TUBBS II

SALESMAN SAM

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MON ’N POP

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iHE BOOK OF KNOWLEDGE

Claes van Roosevelt, destined to be the grandfather of one of America’s greatest presidents, came to America from the Netherlands in the middle of the seventeenth century. One of his sons, Theodore, married Martha Bullock of Georgia. Theodore Roosevelt, future president, was born in the house sketched above in East Twentieth street, New York City, Oct. 27,1858.929 By Through Sprfcwil Permission ol the Publishers of Th Knowledge. Copyright. 1923-26.

—By Williams*

The boy was delicate almost from birth. His father’s wealth, however, provided private tutors and the opportunity of travel ift Europe.

iOUR BOARDING HOUSE

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I JU6T HAPPENED To )/ME • WORKED? SAY f WELL, FOR E'JERMoRE! REMEMBER This Cup J IF I FELT AMY SETTER 1 / THERE GOES ThAT DflOR BELL | OF SUGAR I GOT A / ID DASH To SEE M 1 AGAIN '.'.THAT MAKES THE / COUPLE oF MONTHS v\ A DOCTOR . \ TENTH CALLER I'VE HAD / ago -MOM*, vou \ YSfew \ in ThF LAST TvuO / look worried-has \ hours.i cant A ■ g j '""jP IMAGdkIE 1 --y . 'j zJ

A\j The young man showed a keen interest in natural history. His father built a gymnasium in which young Theodore worked hard to strengthen his frail body, 0-29

SKETCHES BT BESSEk. SVNOFSIS Bk BRALCYIER

'"Theodore Roosevelt entered Harvard College in 1876 and was graduated with honors four years later. While in college he continued exercises to build up his body and was always fond of hunting, horseback riding and other outdoor sports. Soon after leaving college he married Miss Alice Lee of Boston and began the study of law. (To Be Continued 1929' * ' ShetcSeajmd Copyright. 1928. The Grolixr Society. _ *'/

PAGE 11

By Ahern

—By Martin

Ilv Blos.ser

TJv Cl\llk‘

By Small

Bv (Jowan