Indianapolis Times, Volume 41, Number 71, Indianapolis, Marion County, 2 August 1929 — Page 24

PAGE 24

OUT OUR WAY

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this ms happened MOLLY BURHAM pretty and c!v*r ?irl reporter, lifts rlad-n overnight to i me. From her own newspaper experiences, Mollv has written a plav called "The Death of Delphine Darrowv It is the opening night, and Molly is a gown of stiff green stuff, frosted with pearls, that makes her like a medteval princess. In the front row, JACK WCTLLS. her sweetheart, sits between her father and mother Back stage, is BED FLYNN, a police court, man. who suggested the plot of the play. • Author! Author!” shouted the audience. "Speech!' Speech!" Then Red Flynn toog Molly by the hand, and dragged her across the stage, to face the plaudits of a Broadway audience NOW GO WITH THE STORY CHAPTER XX iContinued) Molly was so nervous that night that Red Flynn was sure she was going to faint. She had bought a green gown, with pearls like frost- j ed dew drops gleaming on its! bodice. And she wore a cap of 1 pearls on her red hair. They say j she looked like a medieval princess. with her long, full skirt, and her little jeweled slippers, and the! strands on strands ot pearls she j wore. "Author!” they cried. “Author! Author! ' And Red Flynn took her hand, j and dragged her acros the stage —and left her standing there, with her arms full of flowers, and her j pearl cap on sideways, and her face all flushed and beautiful. Then Molly opened her mouth ■ and tried to speak. CHAPTER XXT THE charming thing about Mol- j ly s speech was the naivete of | it. It wasn't properly a speech at all. But a spontaneous little cry. as sincere as her sparkling eyes. As unstudied as the rakish angle of her demure pearl rap. “Oh, thank you! Thank you!" she cried. Cm so happy!” Then she looked down at Jack, sitting in the from row. Between her mother and father. She had seen him from the wings, white as his glistening shirt front. And she knew that he was nervous—frightened for her. And shp flung her arms apart, so that the roses all spilled. They fell at her feet And some of them clung to the folds of her stiff green skirt, catehinc on the pearls that sparkled like frosted dew. “I love you!” she cried. “I love you—love you!” And the audience clapped and called, and cried and cried for more. And hardly any one knew that Molly was looking straight at Jack. Only Red Flynn knew. And Mr. Durbin, perhaps. But Jack, with his heart in his mouth, was onlv thinking of howbeautiful she 'ooked. How like a princess out of r* fairy tale, with her green dress and her green eyes, and her red. red hair. He saw her little sparkling shoes, where they peeped from the hem of her skirt, and her train, like a cloud of a seaweed. And he thought she was like a sea nymph, dressed up for a hall. Bur he never guessed that she was 'alking straight to him. Then Francesca Gla scow , who Played Delphine Darrows. came on in her sa' in wedding gown, like a bride from the grave And all the other characters, one by one Even to the judge, in his black robes, and the court officers in their brass bifltons. And the reporters, who had sat about the long table in the courtroom scene. Until the whole cast was assembled before the purple velvet curtains, holding hands like children in a row. Then the audience called for Molly again. Mid now she dragged Red on With her. And she made another little speech. “This is Mr. George Flynn." she told them, -pply everybody calls him Red. He wTote half the play, but he's very modest . . “Speech! Speech!” yelled the audience. “Speech. Red! Speech!” But Red shook his head and looked unutterably uncomfortable And when Molly dropped his hand he ran off like a small boy. But the audience liked that and called for him aeain and aeain Then Francesca G las cow. with her nms full of white orchids, made a studied speech. Miss Glascow had had curtain calls before, and so she did It very well Indeed. When she was through they called for tin producer, *

ALL in all it was a very' large . evening. There is not apt to be another like it in Broadway annals for a long, long time. After the performance Mr. Durbin was giving a supper party for Molly. He had invited her parents, and included Jack, at her suggestion. Red Flynn was to be there, and the stars of the play. There were also to be a few newspaper people, and some more friends of Mr Durbin's. Molly had asked Jack to bring her father and mother back after j the play. Now she ivaited for them ; eagerly. She wished her father had worn i evening clothes, and that her j mother had at least bought anew- j wrap. She wondered if Jack could j have been ashamed of them. But no—she knew better than that. Be- j sides, nobody could ever be ashamed | of her father—not if he wore over- j alls. His speech was colloquial, and he looked exactly like what lie was. A hit untutored perhaps, and unpolished. He even made grammatical mistakes though he really knew better. Quite the sort of man smart novelists poke fun at. But Molly’ loved him with all her heart. Molly’s mother was better educated than her father. She had been to normal school, and studied elocution and piano. That was why it annoyed Molly to have her wear little white net guimpes under her dresses. And an iron gray switch twisted into an unseemly pug. Mrs. Burnham wore her skirts at decorous ankle-length. And she wore high, button shoes. “It isn't as if she couldn't afford better.” raged Molly. “It's just plain contrariness, that's what it is. It wouldn't hurt her a bit to have had anew dress for tonight, and to have coaxed dad into evening clothes. He'd have worn them. too. if slic'd asked him. And he'd have been tickled to death if she'd bought a whole new outfit, He'd love to have her dress up. I know- he would.'' Molly had appraised her parents from the wings. Her mother was w earing a black dress wdth a V neck, and a net guimpe that had a collar stiff with whalebone. Mrs. Burnham always had what she called "one decent black.” And “decent" it undeniably was. But it wasn't smart, and it wasn't pretty. The sleeves were elbow-length, and she wore an old pair of sixteen-button black kid gloves. Her hat was velvet and it looked a little green, but that, is the way black velvet gets when it is pretty old. ana 'T'HEY left- the theater by the Jl regular exit, to enter again by the stage door. Molly suspected that her father was anxious to hear what people were saying in the lobby. She was waiting for them row in the alley that led around from Broadway. She had slipped out quietly, to have a moment alone with them, before she must present her new friends. They were coming now. They weren't talking at all. Her mother was in the middle, and Jack was holding one arm. and h p r father was holding the ether. Molly roticed that she was carrying a large umbrella with a great curved handle. The night was soft and clear, and full of stars. “That's just like her.” she reflected impatiently, "and I'll bet dad's best suit smells of moth balls." Then, in a moment, she was in his arms. "Daddy! Daddv—dear' And mother' and Jack! All my dearest!” She k’ssed them impartiallv. clinging to her father. And he patted her with his big clumsy hands, and talked to her as he had when she was a little girl. “Well. Molly-O. Little Molly-O.” “Wasn't it wonderful. Dad? Aren'you proud of your little old Molly-O? Wasn’t it heavenly. Mother? Jack? Aren't you all proud i of your Molly? She flung herself on Jack. "Those were your ‘roses T carried. Jack. They were perfectly I lovely. T know I sDilled them. But somebody picked them up. and T have them, every one ” “I'm glad if you liked them." he said. ; Gee. Molly, you can buy orchids now, just like dandelions, if you -$-ant. You're all set. honeygirL’* .

—By Williams

“What did I tell you?” she crowed “Isn't it gorgeous?” • “Molly,” broke in her mother reprovingly, “your father and I are absolutely disgusted ..." “Now. Mother.” Mr. Burnham put his hand on her shoulder. “You just speak for yourself, Mother.” Molly gazed at them in stupefaction. “What do you mean?” she asked dully. ‘“Disgusted'? I don’t understand, Mother.” "Oh, you understand, young lady.” interposed her sterner parent frigidly. “The way your poor father and I brought you up! De-; cent. God-fearing folks . . . Molly, j I don’t knov,’ what's come over you.” “Now Mother,’’ repeated Mr. Burnham, “that's no way to talk to Molly.” He put his arms around his daughter. and held her tightly. our mother's a little mite upset, Molly-O,” he said. “We're oldfashioned. you know —me and your mother. And your mother's not so young as she used to be . . “•Young!” cried Mrs. Burnham. ‘Td like to know what ‘young’ has to do with it. Young or old, it’s a dirty play, and not fit for decent people—let alone your own father and mother.” “Jack!” Molly turned toward him appealingly. "Why are they talking to me like that. /acK? You liked it, didn't you. Jack? You tell them, dear. Tell them there wasn’t anything wrong. Why—the way everybody clapped and clapped! The audience likea it, mother. Don’t you know. dad. the way everybody applauded? They wouldn't have done that, if it was what mother says . . “Oh. yes they would!” insisted Mrs. Burnham. “I guess I snow aiese New Y orders." see MOLLY’ dear, it's a sure-fire success.” declared Jack gently. “There's no doubt about it. Y’ou're all made, little Molly. I wish you could have heard what people had to say in the lobby. The morning papers will be out pretty soon. You’ll see. dear. You've written the outstanding success of the season.” “I bet you have!” announced her father stanchily. “Now, don’t you mind mother. Molly.” “It's all about bad .women.” lamented Mrs. Burnham, “and murder. and drugs, and drink." “But. mother, of course it is. It's a crime play.” • T don't see whv you couldn't have written about something decent. Land alive. I'll be ashamed to hold up my head for the rest of my days.” ‘Ashamed to hold your head up!” ejaculated Mr. Burnham. “With a daughter famous like Molly?” “That's what I said." repeated Mrs. Burnham. “Ashamed to hold up my head. And you would be. too. William, if you had any decent pride, in you ” Pride. Mother' Why. I got so much pride for Molly, I'm darn near busting Yvith it right now.” iTo Be Continued!

TARZAN OF THE APES

In th* forest of the table land a mile back from the ocean old Kerchak the Ape King was on a rampage of rage among his people. The younger and lighter members of his tribe all scattered to the higher tree branches, riskfng their lives to escape his unccntrollable anger.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TDCES

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

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WASHINGTON TUBBS IT

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SALESMAN SAM

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MOM’N POP

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The other males scattered in all directions but not before Kerchak had crushed one between his great foaming jaws. A luckless young female slipped from an insecure hold. With a wild scream he was upon her. striking her viciously with a broken tree limb until her skull was crushed. 4

—By Martin

Then he spied Kala, returning from a search for food, with her young babe. Ignorant of the state of the king's temper, the shrill warning of her fellows caused her to scamper madly for safety. But Kerchak was close upon her so close that he had almost grasped her ankle.

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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C /'"see'. I'D 6WE A MILLION DOLLARS TO f BUT ME COULDN'T NDONE ANYTHING 3 '? / KNOW WOT HE'S ARRESTED FOR. MAYBE I ( CROOKED. NOT OLD EASY, STILt 1 j HE STOLE SUMPIfI, MAYBE HE: DID SUMDN j \ DUNNO. KHERE TAERE'S SMOKE, THERE’S] V AWFUL A lONO TIME A6O, MAYBE, ,_V FiRR -ANT HE'S SO MYSTERIOUS, SO / \ AK 1 HE'S JUST MOW GETTiM’ CAUGHT/" 1 * \ SECRETIVE ABOUT HIS PAST, AN' HIS J

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She made a furious leap far into space—from one tree to another—made it successfully. But as she grasped the limb of the further tree, the sudden jar loosed the held of the tiny babe. She saw the little thing hurled turning, twisting to the ground thirty feet below,

—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

With a low’ cry of dismay, Kafa. rushed to her babe's side, thoughtless now r of danger. When she gathered the wee, mangled form to her bosom, life had left it. Nor did Kerchak attempt to molest her. His fit of demoniac rage passed as suddenly as It had seized him.

AUG. 2. 1029

—By Ahern

—By Blosser

—By Crane

-By Small

—By Taylor