Indianapolis Times, Volume 40, Number 127, Indianapolis, Marion County, 17 October 1928 — Page 12

PAGE 12

S^mRIWIND vS? COPYRIGHT 1928 Bf NEA SERVICE INC £y ELEANOR EARLY

CHAPTER XLVI (Continued) But he drew her closer. And in the eternity before he crushed her mouth with his, a flame leaped like a living thing from the whitening embers. And in its light Sybil saw his face, and his eyes. And it seemed to her that he looked as if he had glimpsed some mad and incredible loveliness. Their lips met. , And, suddenly—jangling across raw nerves—the telephone rang. Like a cue offstage breaking in upon a moment fraught with exquisite peril. John swore and reached for the instrument. Sybil put her hands to her hair, smoothing it guiltily. “Goodness/’ she cried, “it must be awfully late. I shouldn’t have stayed so long. I didn’t know—” “It’s for you,” announced John. “Mrs. Moore, I think.” He handed her the phone, and lighted a cigaret. “Oh, Sib!” Mabel’s voice over the wire. “The baby’s sick!” Sybil’s body stiffened, and her knees grew weak. “I’ll be right hom£,” she said quietly, and dropped the receiver mechanically on its hook. Then she turned to John. “My little boy is sick,” she told him softly, “and I don’t want ever to see you again.” “But Sybil!” he cried, and put out his arm to detain her. ’Y*h, John, I’d go crazy if anything ever happened to Teddy—l love him so!” Her voice broke hysterically. “You don’t know how I love him!” She was dragging on her coat. John tried to hold it. “IVait a minute,” he remonstinted. "You needn’t run off like tins. “I’l drive you home.” "No, I don’t want you to.” She was getting her things to-gether-gloves and a little lacy handkerchief, and her jade vanity. She pushed him from her. “Please stay where you are. Don’t you see ... I don’t want you any more! Oh, please—please! I don’t want you. I'm going home to Teddy. I never want to see you again." She dabbed at her eyes with the back of her wrist, childishly “Good-by, she said, “good-“y.”

nnHE house was lighted from top X to bottom. Mabel’s car in front, and Valere’s and another with a doctor’s cross. Mrs. Thorne was in the hall, redeved and trembling, fidgeting with things on the table. When she saw Sybil, her face contracted so that it looked like an ugly mask, and she gave a little moan like an animal suffering. The place smelled of doctors. Sybil experienced a strange feeling of physical detachment, as if something had suddenly left her body. She took off her coat, and moved toward the stairs. She knew that she was curiously quiet—and wondered why she did not scream and cry. She heard her mother whisper, “She doesn’t know.” And still she stood there, at the foot of the stairs. Tad was on the upstairs landing with a white-haired man. They came toward her, and the whitehaired man took her hands, and murmured. Then Mabel came down the hall, and flew to her, and put her arms around her and kissed her. Tad drew her close when Mabel let her go. And then every one was very quiet for a moment, only looking at her. “I know,” she told them. “Teddy is dead.” The white-haired man, who had disappeared in the bathroom, approached her with a glass. “A sedative,” he announced professionally. “Just drink this, and you’ll feel better.” Impatiently she waved him aside. How foolish —all this fuss. As if sedatives amounted to anything when Teddy was dead. She put her foot o nthe lowest stair, and found it was heavy, so that it was an effort to move it. Then she placed >*er hand on the railing, and mounted' awkwardly like an old woman. They suffered her to ascend half way, keeping so quiet that she felt like a performer. She was suffocating now. Never to be kissed again by Teddy. Never more to hear his darling voice—“Muvver—Muvver—” .. . Nor feel the clasp of his baby fingers. That little hand in hers—those adorable knuckles, like rosy dimples. How red his cheeks had been that afternoon —and-his tiny nose. She had kissed it on the tip. Teddy hated to have her do that. But what a big bear hug he had given her at bedtime! She was glad she had held his hand until he went to sleep. Sometimes she left him alone in the dark. Poor baby—all alone—in the dark. “Teddy! Teddy!” Tad caught her when she screamed, and carried her to the bed in her mother’s room. They rubbed her hands and feet, and she drank brandy to please them, and afterwards, the doctor’s foolish sedative. Vague, despairing hope came then to rack her tortured brain. "Perhaps he isn’t dead. Are you sure he’s dead? It may be a mistake. Who said he was dead? Let me see him. I want to see him. You can’t keep me from him—my little boy! Teddy! Teddy! It’s a lie He isn’t dead —I tell you he isn’t dead. I won’t believe it. Tad —Tad. tell me he isn’t dead. Val— Mother! Mab! Oh, someone, tell me it isn’t true!” CHAPTER XLVII SYBIL sat up on the bed. She passed her hand dazedly across her forehead, and her eyes were wide with horror. Tad leaned over the footboard, and her mother sat beside her, chafing her hands. Mabel was standing beside Tad, and Valerie stood in the door with a bottle of brandy in her hand, and tears running down her pale cheeks. Her mother’s eyes were red and swollen. Wildly Sybil searched their grieving faces. "He’s dead,” she said. “My baby’s dead M $

Mabel came and stood beside her, and touched her gently. “Mab, do you remember . . . this afternoon . . .” Sybil raised dry, dreadful eves and looked at Mabel like _ woman bereft of her senses. “You said—if you had—a child . . . like Teddy . . .” “Sybil! Don’t, dear. There was nothing yoii could do.” Tenderly Mabel stroked her hair. "Tell me, Mab—what happened.” They tiptoed from the room then, quietly, as people steal from death and sorrow. And Mabel, taking Sybil’s hand, told of the night’s stark tragedy. n u a “rpEDDY got up, dear, after you 1 went out—” “I went, Mab, to meet John Lawrence.” “Sh, dear —it doesn’t make any difference. You know the little cricket he loves to stand on—he

TffEJfEW Saint^inner ByJlnneJlmtin Cl92£ y NEA SEMCr. INC

“Os course,” Tony went on analyzing the marriages of her mother’s guests, from the corner of the drawing room where she and Crystal rested from their duties as Mrs. Tarver’s assistants, “I don’t feel sorry for Mrs. Lincoln Pruitt, like 7 do for Peg. Mrs. Pruitt looks like the original model for all the cartoonists’ caricatures of the typical clubwoman. But who knows but what that club stuff was a defense mechanism against the failure of marriage? “Mr. Pruitt looks as if he’d turned into a steel money-makirg machine before he was 30, and their frosty politeness to each other in public is the best proof in the world that they hate each other and fight liket ne well-bred cat and dog in private life. ' “And now the old boy’s all of a twitter about our blessed mam’selle, and George’s majestic mama has her suspicious. She hasn’t gone near Mile. Dumont all evening. “The other wives, including my poor Peg, in spite of the fact that she’s mam’selle’s hostess, are giving ‘the French hussy’ a wide berth, too. I don’t blame ’em. Mam’selle’s clearly labeled ‘Menace to Wives.’ ” “Mrs. Hemingway talked to Mam-selle twice when she was dummy,” Crystal pointed out. It was queer to be arguing this way with Tony, who was always the more generous of the two. “I guess you think my sw r eet young nature is being utterly spoiled by this anti-marriage complex of mine,” Tony answered Crystal’s unspoken thought with ifncanny accuracy. “Maybe it is. But haven't you tumbled yet to what Laura Hemingway is doing? She’s actually trying to expose Jeff Hemingway to Mam’selle’s pernicious influence.” “Why?” Crystal demanded. “He’s sinfully rich, isn’t he?” “Naive child!” Tony laughed.

140YPARSOF .

The conventions and campaign of 1876 are told of in this chapter of “The Presidential Parade,” Rodney Dutcher’s scries on presidential politics of other years. BY RODNEY DUTCKER

NEA Service Correspondent ♦ Copyright. 1928. by NEA Service. Inc.) ASHINGTON, Oct. 17.—1n 1876 American politics wallowed in a bottomless pit of disgrace and degradation. The culminating months of the Grant administration’s welter of graft exhibited candidates who had profited by corruption, furnished the first hotel room nomination on record, were marked by a slush fund campaign and wound up with the famous “Stolen Election,” which both sides tried to buy. The nation obviously yearned for a change. The first thing that had to be done was the dousing of

m

President Grant’s third term aspirations; Republicans and Democrats united on that. Grant’s failure to control the currency had resulted in excessive speculation and the 1873 panic. v The 1874' election had filled congress with Democrats who started more than fifty investigations. These revealed the Credit Mobilier scandal, in which the Vice-President, senators and congressmen were given stock at par which paid a 340 per cent dividend to dissuade them from investigating a Union Pacific Railroad fraud, the bribe-taking of Secretary of War and Mrs. Belknap, the whisky ring, with bribes to Washington officials for tax-free whisky, involving Grant’s private secretary, and other scandals all over the place.

Yet Grant wanted a third term. As the issue raged he said he would accept renomination if it became his “imperative duty.” Only his closest friends, the grafters and jobholders, supported him, however. The house finally put the damper on him when Congressman Springer’s resolution, condemning the third term as unwise and dangerous, was passed, 234 to 18. (This was the same resolution, introduced by La Follette and passed by the senate in 1928). Blaine Strong Candidate The pompous Senator Roscoe Conklin of New York and Senator Oliver P. Morton of Indiana then vbecame the administration favorites, but the strongest candidate was “the Plumed Knight,” Senator James G. Blaine of Maine. Blaine 'had been Speaker of the house and later as minority leader was famed for his brilliant parliamentary victories. He was* appointed a senator just in time to take him out of the jurisdiction of a house committee which had investigated charges of corruption against him. He had been accused of receiving substantial favors from the Union Pacific and other land grant railroads while speaker. Blaine had twice as many convention delegates at Cincinnati as anyone else, but it was obvious that if other candidates united against him he couldn’t win. Nominated by Ingersoll He was placed in nomination by the marvelously eloquent speech of Bob Ingersoll—“ Like an armed warrior, like a plumed knight, James

dragged that over to the window on Elm St. We think he must have stood on it —and then —Oh, my dear, your poor mother blames herself so—the floor in Teddy’s room was waxed this morning. It was dreadfully slippery. And the little cricket slid. Teddy’s pajamas caught on the curtain hook —oh, Sybil—my poor, poor Sybil!” “He was hanged, Mabel? My baby was hanged?” “But the doctor says it didn’t hurt, darling. The little neckband was pulled in a single yank—tight like a noose. Ah, Sybil—it’s you I’m crying for, dear. Teddy’s all right now. His hurt was just a second —but you—oh, God help you!” “My baby hanged!” Mabel cringed. “Oh, don’t,’ she implored, “say that dreadful word again!” “Did he scream, Mab? How did they know'?”/ <To Be Continued)

“And he’s also a particularly loathesome beast and poor Laura Hemingway hates and fears him. I wonder what hold he has on her.” “Faith said something about her once having been a musical comedy star whom Jeff Hemingway had married in Chicago,” Crystal volunteered. “I gathered that there was some sort of scandal.” “That explains it,” Tony nodded. “She’d love for him to become involved with Mam’selle, so she could get a divorce and ailmony. Life’s pretty rotten, Crystal. Now for the Harrisons—” “Oh, but they’re nice!” Crystal cried, for somehow she didn’t want Tony to prove her case too thoroughly against marriage. Os course she wanted to get married! Every girl did—even Tony, down underneath all this new cynicism. “Nice separately, but not together,” Tony repeated her former distinction. “She nags him in an anxious, flattery sort of way that simply maddens him almost to the point of murder, and he’s jolly and talkative wath everyone except her, which makes her cry herself to sleep nearly every night, or I’m a poor student of marriage. Hadn’t you noticed that about all married couples, Crys?” “Yes. of course I’d noticed that,” Crystal retorted. “I’m not blind. . . Well, what are the heinous charges against the Dudley Reeveses? “Faith likes Mrs. Reeves a lot, and Mrs. Harrison, too. Mrs. Reeves got Faith into some sort of literary club. Bob laughs at it, but Faith enjoys it.” “Just one more tabloid indictment of the ancient and honorable institution of marriage and then the ‘little rays of sunshine’ have got to serve supper,” Tony answered flippantly. (To Be Continued)

G. Blaine marched down the halls of the American congress and threw his shining lance full and fair against the brazen forehead of every traitor to his country and every maligner of his fair reputation. . . . That prince of parliamentarians, that leader of leaders, James G. Blaine.” Had a ballot been reached on the day of Ingersoll’s speech Blaine probably would have won. But the New York-Pennsylvania bosses secretly had the gas turned off in the building, forcing the convention to adjourn. These bosses by morning had the convention rigged against Blaine. Rutherford B. Hayes won on the seventh ballot with 384 for a majority to 351 for Blaine. Hayes had been the one candidate unobjectionable to all. Blaine had received a majority of the convention votes, but never on the same ballot! Democrats Pick Tilden Two weeks later the Democrats nominated the best politician of his day, Governor Samuel J. Tilden of New York. He had become wealthy as a corporation lawyer and was famous for having broken up the notorious Tween ring in New York. He won on the second ballot without trouble. Scads of money were spent on Tilden’s campaign, while the Grant administration made heavy campaign levies on federal jobholders. Votes were bought in doubtful states by both sides. That was the custom. Next: The famous Hayes-Til-den “stolen election.”

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

|T I VtIOAiJ>ER UIMA-f tUICLE ) AMOS IS <3OMMA BSE-THIS VALUABLE 1 Tomv KIMPA Bo* TOR, / -Troupe OF 25 \ VlllH ALL*TH' Ll-fIUE I "TRAIMEP FLEAS f) POORS OM \~X 2 :( MAW BE dE'LL K - X-wyss \ GNB MB, /AM’ [ | I'll pot t o*i -Top J I OF-TU' GrARAtSE \ m \ W gjjV- for A birp House M M L ° 1,28 gY o stuvicc. me t j/AMPORAS FROTHE R ~ r= t, u. s. PT off /J-/7-

BOOTS,AND 11Eit BUDDIES

HEY ! WCttHfs MAKIN’ YVfe OVO 6'RV f | DOIKi” TO MY COI_VEGIAYfc ,9ABY —TO DIOYA VWVb YOOT} NOW .VfcTOYt'LWJ. ? I HELP HtR 6fcT 09 IN Y'\J POPEY UX>9<bY Doßt - HWHSH! VOHWY HE WAS YOORVtVE / rr*i _ v JL. J

FRECKLES AND ftLS FRIENDS

Aiovu 7AT R26CZL&S IS ( f^Qf^! MOM 1 . XMANS. ) VES 7A6 : TJRAT RID OF BOTU MIS EIEPMAMT AMD 1g A S UBPfZISE FOR 'S IT? S CAN BC&A7UE EASY I vou " /rF’C AI2OUMD7R£. AOUS6 AGAIN-=* I. 2. Su \ cam settle Back )M7we old }2~ j’ VAm ) ROUTIME OF PEACE AMD V‘\ VTA Q.e, M 5,,.,

WASHINGTON TUBBS II

L^ ' CAMEL TRACKS —TuE TRAIL OF THE f TUtY Stop To R£f>7 AMD YOUNG fOREIGWeRS, O GRACIOUS t&f? Yvieiß YvilßiA. A\D ig|gg|pi Mivreess. it is 24 hours old. Jttfj BEHOLD*, it ts here That ihen THEY TRAVEL LEISURELY. ygggr itARN Os HUDSON gEY’S fOUL —-- 111 I-IT iiENGcAUCE , fOR THE BAGS HE . ™.’es

SALESMAN SAM

movi that ya got your joe. e>PiCK,s<vo, f eveKYTiHie. i wise, crack gut/a ne.6e.Ts Tne PtRST THING Tfv 00 TRY AN’ FIND SoRE-OH.VieU-.l’to 50ReTO0-NOT A EVERY WAY YA CAN Ta TREAT OUR CENT IN MY POCKETS AN J \ OOH'T GET CUSTOMERS RIGHT- PAlp T(LC SATURDAY IR TOURE ALL WRONG,GUIV * A // \ FIRST OF ALL we. GOTTA /// gT~—--L~ ~f '->/> SHoe-g VTRY AN' PINO SOME COS- - J - -<fc.

MON’N POP

fSL /well, if'one-cound hogan) That’s aiSev' F S(T)hE new neighbor / i’Sn't The toughest. / ( MiKE AMD ( COU&HEST guy tNTOUJwJ ) GOT SHOULDERS ON UM AND OBJECT V -o , y / LIKE GENE TUNNEYCF POP’S VJ" •/■ L / AND so Rough you uiOiTu / CAN SCRATCH a MATCH Ofcoioce. f.e / / ON HIS NECK - HE’S PREPARES The / I I TOUGHER THAN A LUNCH .......

HIE BOOK OF KNOWLEDGE

The rooms of the White House overflow with memories of the hostesses who, as the wives of presidents, have dispensed the hospitality of the nation. We never can speak of the White House without seeing in our minds visions of those women whose names are interwoven with its history. Some writers say the name of the White House owes its origin to Martha Washington. ®)^|^*~Thtxuj^Spcr^^.rmiMioi^Mh^Pub!lhtr^oMrh^Bto(>^oHOiowT.dgt^opy'i^l^^23*26^^

By Ahern

There is a story that the White House was so named in honor of the country seat where Washington had gone to claim his bride.

OUT OUR WAY

'-f "ii Tme now Combatants. 1 weG.u.s pat orr. rr hia subnet, twc. ,

TWa'e. WHfsT 1 CALVi SWYYY- ( Mtt'Y VT A WOUDtPTOY f ALL WT OOPSYLMYS -WO USE VttYNW’ ? YVjYPY / TAYWW’ ,QUttW-Y’M VAYY'W, N\ Y YOOY lU YOOP YY’c'b, [ TOP. YOU HARO— BY\W MY HYA9.T POYY'b OOYP. ill IOYAR YOO VAVCLS PVfc K> PLAYS btAO —. \\ HtAO’e. goiw’ | ‘M aaaaamA BOY . W / ROGWO M’POOfOO RIGHT I, YOPfc UiAb WfcMBR. \X| h WOW \ 1 ■ I'VCfc WtOßt 1

( r 7~ 71 ( SHALLOWED A ) DDMTASi/QO&STiCMS X JOST Y. > JAG. ) ATAIL? \JJUY-Wy. ) MOWO= RUM FOR \

r 2 look thou*. They do not turn back! they start I s ) cT BRAVELY fOR THE WATER HOLE FOUR OAYS DISTANCE.J V 1 they are desperate', frantic*. • they posh their. \ \ CANCELS Too HARD— HUCW TOO HARD. ALAS*. | FEAR ) Jfi -X VyTHEY CANNOT LAST AT SUCH A KIIUNG "mtuiMT wrC" ■■ui'"'iictc' v ' ,

e.eeN AThatsToo Bad, IfVou e>zr i will - S PLL Sen 1 DO’ Pounding oot ) kitty - uer mi£ but do You know / iwas.ttust ; ONTH£TYPevURIT6.R. ) TAKE. (A CRACK ANYTHING ABOUT ( GONNA ASKVA TILL. NIY HANDS ARG. JAT IT FOR. A THe TOUGH ATo LOAN A j LAMie. y spot! 1 .j... i I

- can he mtop ? lT jerrm - inuece) f right were on mn i UWEU THEY DON’T OPEN DOES THIS // DOiWU BY tuE i DOORS FOR PUKE O'HACE \ Y TOUGH J GaS INCURS.YPUXL HE PDKES WIS KNUCKLES //. i , i , LIVE j / FIND HIM IN KEU-Y’S ! thru them like an J(Hi Ml / —v ? J s pool room.like as not- ' ELEPHANT WOULp CO /l J I Vs s T - . ... . ■ ■ . —. . I , .

Other stories say it was named the White House because it was painted white to hide the smokestains on the walls after the British burned it Jn 1814. io-n

SKETCHES BY BESSEY. SYNOPSIS BY BRACCHEB

/ igJTf jg The'first White. icturedhere,’ built~in TBOO, was not finished when Washington’s second term expired. When Washington was inaugurated the first time, the seat of government was in New York City, i There in a large old-fashioned house, Mrs. Washington held her levees. With the aid of Alexander Hamilton she established strict rules of etiquet for her drawing rooms. (To Be Continued) i Sketches a nd Synopses'. Copyright^92B. The Grolier Society. lO^lT ‘

OCT. 17, 1928

—By Williams

—By Martin

By Blosser

By Crane

By Small

By Cowan