Indianapolis Times, Volume 42, Number 311, Indianapolis, Marion County, 8 May 1931 — Page 24

PAGE 24

4 Q:y 0- t&A SCRVICE.

Tnisvrv L wrPaEvS*' s ' crr,: v in love w.lh WILSON, discovers that he is Fi*lly^. n gi[ l r with her half-sister. IRENL EVERETT, and with the auistanc? of her "Ran*” kldnaos him. She urees him to stav m col.eze and not breaic the heart of the aunt who is financing him. FaUr.z to convince him. Bervl lets Tommy return to Irene who. enraged at the delay, refuses to listen and oostoor.es the elooment. Later Tommy goes Ashing and finds Berjl and her zar.z on the beach One of the boys. ANGIE REED, is carried out by the tide, and Tommy and Bervl recue him. She finds it hardd to bear the reproaches of MRS. REED and the sneers of her lealous sister. When Tommy caain begs Irene to marry him. she savs she will not let marriage interfere with her career and informs him that she is to have a radio aucition. She promises to take Bervl to the studio if she will wash her blouse, and after the work is finished asks the mother not to let Bervl go. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER NINE "Probably nothing but the truth,” her father retorted. He was in an Irritable mood this morning, due very likely to his badly cooked dinner the night before. "If you women would stop arguing and fighting all the time and pay more attention to ” ' Your meals,’’ his wife added *or him. "You’re Just like all men—thinking of your stomach all the time. You used to be different.” <That usually got him.) "I declare,” she began to cry, "I don’t know what to do,” and her husband's habitual meekness was quickly restored. "There, there, mother, I know you have a hard time,’ he soothed, "but Beryl’s a great help to me; you aren't going to let Irene disappoint her like that, are you?” "T HAVE to think of my voice,” 1- Irene answered for her mother. "Beryl irritates me. I'd be a nervous wreck before I got to the studio if she went along.” "Then why did you tell her she could go with you?” her father asked. Irene shrugged. “I had a weak moment, I guess.” "H’umph. Seems to me I heard Beryl saying something about buying a ringside seat,” Mr. Everett remarked. Irene turned to her mother. “There, you see!” she cried. "She’s always making fun of me! And I won’t stand for it!” Mrs. Everett began to sniffle Again. "Oh, I guess she didn’t mean to make fun of you,” Mr. Everett declared hastily. “That’s just Beryl’s way—to joke. It helps a lot with the cranky customers.”

“Can’t you thing of anything, but business?” his wife wailed. “Lord, I wish I had some business to think about,’ ’he complained. “The way things are now . . Irene jumped up from the table. “I can’t eat in an atmosphere of bickering,” she anonunced indignantly. “Poor child,” her mother muttered as Irene stalked out of the room. “Why do you upset her so, Henry? You know she’s highstrung and delicate—a real artiste.” Mr. Everett was contrite. “I didn’t mean to spoil her breakfast,” he apologized. “Guess I’ll be getting back to the store. Never mind pouring any more coffee for me.” lie got up and walked over to a peg on which hung his hat. His wife hesitated a half moment, then spoke out boldly. “You’d better keep Beryl at the store,” she advised. “Tell her you need her there.” Mr. Everett fidgeted from one foot to the other. “She’d know I was doing it for a reason,” he objected. “You can't fool Beryl.” “Well, you keep her there Just the same,’* she ordered, with a finality in her tone that left no room for further argument. He went away, mumbling that he didn’t like it. And as he expected. Beryl laughed at him when he clumsily attempted to detain her at the store. “I suspect you’ve been getting a load of Irene's impression of a prima donna,” she said to him. “I had a hunch she’d try to renege on me and I’m prepared for it. Don’t worry; I’ll tell mother what a chance you had to hold me here.”

SHE went away laughing and waving goodby to him. And he thought fearfully of what his wife : would have to say if she could read his mind at that moment; for he was thinking very definitely that he wished Beryl were his own daughter. Conscious suddenly that he was being guilty of disloyalty, he turned to filling his telephone orders. ‘ Beryl had left home that morning without her breakfast. When she entered the house, the inviting

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aroma of freshly broiled bacon asasiled her nostrils and caused her to turn her steps kltchenward. There she found Irene at the table in the breakfast "nook,” pouring fresh coffee preparatory to finishing her interrupted morning meal. There was a pout of injured feeling on her pretty face, a “well, pet me if you like, but I’m annoyed just the same” expression in her blue eyes and a smug satisfaction with herself that made Beryl want to shake her. Instead the older girl seated herself at the table with the easy, unconscious grace that was' characteristic and remarked casually: "So you’ve decided I shan’t go to New York with you?” Irene cocked her head sidewise and pursed her lips. Then she reached for the cream jug and peured some of its contents into the cup of coffee. Calmly Beryl reached across the table and took the cup for herself. "You have a nerve!” Irene said furiously. "Now, now, girls, don’t quarrel," Mrs. Everett intervened and rushed forward with a second cup. “I’m starved,” Beryl said to her mother. “You’ll be out of luck if you didn’t bring something wdth you,” Irene taunted. "Mother’s just cooked the last of the bacon and eggs for me.” Beryl looked at her mother. “You’ll have to divide,” Mrs. Everett said weakly. "There was enough begin with, but ” Beryl broke In with an understanding laugh. "But Irene had a fit of temperament and couldn’t eat and—all the rest of it. Well, let it go. Give me some toast.” • "I’ve got some watermelon preserve,” her mother offered in amends for the lack of more substantial fare. Irene smirked. “I lunched on those last night. I had to have something after that awful dinner.” Mrs. Everett gasped. "You don’t mean you ate the whole jar!” “Well, not the jar—just the preserves. There wasn’t much.” Beryl stared meaningfully at Irene’s figure. "Soft white curves, like midsummer moonfiowers,” she said softly. Then, abruptly: “It’s a pity flowers fade so quickly, isn’t it?” a a a IRENE flushed and Beryl noticed that when their mother placed the plate of bacon and eggs before her the girl ate the food with small relish. Beryl nibbled the thin dry toast supplied to her with apparent enjoyment. But when her mother brought a piece of cheese and a brioche she was glad Irene had no desire for food. "So I’m not going to New York with you?” she asked after the last crumb of tile sweet roll had been consumed. "I really couldn’t be annoyed,” Irene replied. .Beryl got to her feet. “Well,” she said with a pleasant inflection, "in that case I’ll have tiAie fer a little laundry work.” Irene’s glance followed her in uneasiness as she swung out of the kitchen into the front hall. Beryl’s attitude puzzled her—for mostly her half-sister fought for her rights. She did not go to hear what more Beryl might have to say about the matter, but staying in the kitchen availed her nothing, for presently Beryl returned. And while she did not come to rave and rant she bore a declaration of war that more effective than words. “What are you doing with my blouse?” Irene screeched as Beryl walked over to the sink. Beryl smiled at her. "Why, my dear,” she said pleasantly, "I mean to wash it for you,” and reached for the dishpan. Irene, flew over to grab the garment but Beryl swung it out of her reach. "Mother, don’t let her wet it!” Irene screamed.

“Beryl ...” “She’ll keep her bargain with me,” Beryl interrupted her mother, “or I’ll make a rain check out of her blouse.” Irene’s eye was caught by the fine pleating of the neck ruffle as Beryl held the blouse aloft. She could never pleat like that. And the thought of standing over the ironing board for an hour while she tried it drove her frantic. “Put it dow r n, Beryl,” he:: mother implored. “When she says I’m going with her,” Beryl returned firmly. “I washed and ironed this thing as the price of my admission to the

show and I’ll see the show —or get a refund.” "All right, you can go.” Irene capitulated. a a a BERYL handed the blouse to her. "You’d better take it upstairs before I change my mind and decide I don’t want to go,” she said, and Irene hastily followed the suggestion. Automatically Beryl began to gather up the breakfast dishes. She’d long ago learned that Irene would not help their mother and that if she, too, refused, her mother would do the dishwashing alone. Mrs. Everett fluttered around more or less helplessly. Beryl knew she had something on her mind and finally it came out in a burst of querulousness. “I do wish you and pa wouldn’t be always getting Irene fussed up,” she fretted. "You ought to make some allowance for her being different.” "I don’t allow any one to trick me if I can help it,” Beryl told her. “I did that work for Irene in exchange for the privilege of hearing her sing at RKG. And It was no fun, tired as I was.” "Well,” Mrs. Everett sighed. “Please be tactful the rest of the day. After, all Irene’s career is important.” “She hasn’t got a career—she’s only got a screech.” "If you’re going to talk like that,” .Mrs. Everett said with a touch of anger, “I’ll have to do the blouse for her myself and ask you to stay at home. I can’t ses why you want to go anyway when you feel that way about it!” "Who knows?” Beryl said dreamily. "I might get an offer myself some day. I want to familiarize myself with studio atmosphere.” And as though to prove that had something to induce an offer she began to hum. "Please don’t,” her mother begged. “Irene might hear you, and you know, Beryl, that funny way you sing is irritating to a real singer.” Beryl fell silent. Pier moods often changed quickly. If Irene had a chance—if it were true, as they said, that she had a voice—it would be cruel to handicap her. Her softer feeling endured. And when she arrived at the studio with Irene she volunteered to forego the right she had bought and wait in an anteroom, little dreaming of the reward her generous impulse was to bring her. (To be continued) PUPILS TO GIVE PLAY Three-Act Comedy to Be Presented at Beech Grove. Seniors of Beech Grove high school will present "Honor Bright,” a three-act comedy, in the school auditorium at 8 tonight. Bessie V. Minor, senior class sponsor, is director,. Leading roles will be enacted' by Phyllis Prosch and Charles Terhune. Other members of the cast are: Crystal Adams, Welbon Britton, Dorcas Lowes, James Bishop, Bryon Rutledge, Fredia Baldwin, Leslie Jenkinscn, Esther Phillips, Mary Betner, John Newman, Richard Clapn, Louis McElroy and Burney Wiley.

STKKBfti * A carpenter constructed an oblong pigpen and then discovered that he could save two posts to which the uniform fence rails were nailed, by making the pen square instead of oblong. Each pea would have an equal area, but in the square pen there would be a post to tie each pig to. If the pigs numbered less than 36, how many were there, to work out in the above manner? *

Answer for Yesterday

96327 85014 181341 Knowing that each letter represents a number, in order to add JGDCH to IFABE and get BiBDEB, the letters must represent numbers as follows: A-0; B-I; C-2; D-3; E 4; F-5; G-6; H-7; 1-8 and J-9. The problem worked out in those numbers is shown above. - 7

TARZAN AND THE GOLDEN LION

Within a day’s march of the bungalow Tarzan discovered the spoor of a considerable body of warriors. Several days old it was, yet plainly legible. Suddenly the ape-man displayed the sharpest interest, for among the men’s footprints he saw the smaller ones of a white woman, a loved footprint that he knew as well as his own. “The Waziri returned and told her I was missing,” he soliloquized, “and now she has set out to search for me.”

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

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WASHINGTON TUBBS II

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SALESMAN SAM

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BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

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C 1931. by Edg*r Rice Burrocgh*. Joe. An right* racred pyy

He turned to the golden lion. “Well, Jab-bal-ja, once again we turn away from home; but no, where she is, IS home!” But the trail mystified Tarzan of the Apes, for it did not lead toward Opar. The sixth day, his keen ears caught the sound of approaching men. Sending Jad-bal-ja into a thicket to hide, Tarzan took to the trees and moved rapidly toward the on-coming men, who proved to be hit own Waziri.

—By Ahern

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At their head was Usula, sad and dejected. Throwing down his spear and shield and stretching his arms wide, he bared his great breast to Tarzan. “Strike, Bwana!” he cried, ‘Lady Jane is no more. We failed in our duty to protect her.” Tarzan could not believe his ears. He made Usula tell each detail of the events leading up to her death. When this was done, Tarzan of the Apes spoke but three words: “WHERE is Luvini*

OUT OUR WAY

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old John skinnerl f know, buthe says y - -j HE'LL FORGET ALL ABOUT // s' WHGTt That and begin all. (/ / WHY, THAT V AGAIN ( f > SKINFLINT CTzT—-' —-—- y ( owes ne S3OO <\ (y ONX 1 ! ..... ..... / • - I' j

—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

"Ah, that we do not Imow,” lamented Usula. “But I shall knew!” said Tarzan. “Return home to your wives and children. You are needed among the herds and in the fields. And when next you see me, you will know Luvini is dead.” Bidding them good-bye, he turned about in search of Luvini—and revenge. He whistled once, a single, low, long-drawn note, and a moment later, Jad-bal-ja, the golden lion, bounded into view along the jungle traiL

MAY 8, 1931

—By Williams

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Martin