Indianapolis Times, Volume 43, Number 233, Indianapolis, Marion County, 6 February 1932 — Page 5

FEB. 6, 1932

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BEGIN HERE TODAY Bf *utllui ELLEN ROSSITER who works by day as a salesgirl In Barclay s department store, lives with her mother, MOLLY ROSSITER her elder sister. MYRA, and her 12-year-old brother. MIKE Ellen's dead father, younger sen In a tilled English family, left a comfortable fortune to provide for his wife and children. Irrespondsible Mollv Rosslter soon went through the fortune and since then the support of the family has devolved upon her two daughters. Mollv foolishly spends, the precious rent money to buy unnecessary clothes for Mike. At her mother s suggestion. Ellen decides to work at night as a dance hall hostess until the sum Is made up She goes to Dreamland and Interviews JACOB SALOMON who offers her a job on condition that she supply her own evening dresses. She has no evening dress. Bitterly disappointed, she breaks a store rule and telephones the news to her mother STEVEN RARCLAY, owner of the department. store, sees her In the telephone booth and asks her to come to his office. Ellen Is sure be Intends to discharge her. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER THREE fContinued) Ellen had been prepared for dismissal. She was not prepared for sympathy. For a moment revulsion of feeling made her actually dizzy. Her heart was suffocating her and she felt she could hardly breathe. But she forced herself to answer him. “It’s—it’s nothing important,’’ she managed at length. “I was afraid you’d say that. It probably would be nothing to me: Obviously its not that to you. But I do think it's nothing that can't be solved. Won't you tell me?” B tt B AT any other time Ellen would have wthdrawn into the fastnesses of the Rossiter pride. Just then she had such an overwhelming need for sympathy, such an overwhelming need for the advice of someone older, someone responsible, that the whole story was out before she could check the rush of words. Myra and Bert; her mother and her disastrous shopping tours; Mike, delightful baby Mike, who should have his chance; the Brooklyn apartment and the countless, harassing worries that beset two girls trying to balance on their slim shoulders the burden of a family, all that and more she poured fourth. She stopped at last in consternation. What had she said, lured by this man's inent interest? What had possessed her? “So you see it’s really nothing,” she concluded stifTly. “Only the lack of an evening dress. I'm afraid I've drawn a dreadful pictire. It’s not a fair or truthful one. "Wc have lots of fun. We love each other. Any one would say that fin evening dress wasn’t important.” “I wasn’t going to say that” Ellen felt suddenly annoyed with herself, annoyed with Barclay, as l hough he had taken advantage of a moment of weakness to force an unwilling confidence. What real interest could a man who sailed for Europe to buy a single piece of jade feel in the petty, financial difficulties of one of his minor employes? Her cheeks grew hot. 8 B B SHE remembered that Jenny Elkins below in the basement had promised to care for her counter only for ten minutes. She glanced toward the door, longing to rush from the room. Barcley noticed her restiveness and suspected her attitude. “No, I wasn’t going to say that,” he repeated. ‘‘l was going to tell you something about myself, something that might help you, or I hope It will. Are you bored?” Ellen quickly assured him she was not. She felt again and unwillingly his quiet spell, felt his lack of condescension, his simple assumption that they were equals and as equals, could solve her problem. But how? What possible help could she accept from him? “Don’t think of me as a rich man,” he was saying. “Think of me as I was at your age, trying to support a young wife and a young baby on sls a week in the days when sls a week meant more than it does now, but not enough more. “My wife wanted a dress, too. She wanted a pink dress with ribbons She looked a little like you, had that same quick way of turning her head. And they were wearing pink and ribbons when she wanted the dress.” tt n a ELLEN forgot Jenny Elkins in the basement. She had not known that Barclay had been poor. It was

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, hard to imagine that distinguished, graying man who wore clothes so carefully cut, so indicative of wealth, in such a role. But she could visualize clearly the young wife who had wanted a pink dress with pink ribbons. “No one offered to give her that dress," Barclay continued. “If anyone had. I'm sure we both would have refused it. We were proud, you understand—proud as you are proud. “I was going to become a rich man—going to buy her dozens upon dozens of dresses.” He hesitated and added almost roughly. “She was dead—dead with my young son before she ever had a pink dress." Ellen gave a distressed little cry. "We had fun, too,” he told her. “Much the same sort of fun you and your brother, Mike, and your 1 sister, Myra, are having now. But | if we’d only been less stiff-necked, less afraid of the motives of other ; people, how much easier It would ■ have been.” “Afraid?” The heavy Rossiter brows rose in twin peaks. “Young people haven’t changed much in spite qf all the shouting,” Barclay observed obliquely. “They’re ; still afraid, aren't they, to accept a favor to do a greater favor? "They’re just as suspicious, just as conventional and every bit as : proud. You, I’m sure, never would j allow me to give you a lift. You j wouldn’t allow me, would you, to give you one dress from a store which has hundreds of them? “You’d rather hug your troubles to yourself, worry yourself sick, wouldn’t you? You'd rather be selfish.” “I’m afTaid I would,” Ellen ad- | mitted. BBS BARCLAY’S smile was rueful. He made one more attempt. “You know, of course, that you are depriving me of a great pleasure. Are you sure you have that right?” Ellen felt confused. Was it possible that she was too stiff-necked, as he had accused her of being, too conventional, too careful entirely? Then she decided, so quickly that there was almost no pause before she answered, that even if she were it was too late to change. “I’m sure I have that right,” she said. Her tone was resolute, but she softened it with a glance of shy merriment. The man considered a moment. His face cleared and when he smiled so many years dropped away from him that Ellen felt he must look almost as he had looked to his young wife. She had thought'him handsome and distinguished before, but separated from her by miles of spiritual distance, separated from her by many years and by great wealth. For the first time she saw him not as her employer, but as a man. “Well, if you won’t, you won’t!” he said decisively. “It may be that young girls should be suspicious of older men bearing gifts—l don’t know. But I’ve thought of a compromise. Surely you can’t refuse to borrow a dress.” “Borrow a dress!” “Certainly. Don’t look so astounded. We seldom sell the gowns that the models wear. You’ll borrow one of them and return it when your engagement is over.” a t> TAKING her consent for granted he turned at once to ring a bell. Ellen had neither the heart nor the wish to demur. Indeed, she felt her spirits rising. By so simple an act as ringing a bell, Steven Barclay had settled the problem of where the Rossiter rent was to come from. With the help of a borrowed dress it was coming from Dreamland. A few minutes later a saleswoman arrived with a lovely cargo of evening dresses. Steven Barclay had slipped Taway. Ellen was alone in the office. She appreciated the department store owner’s tact and his wisdom. Barclay’s was notoriously a hotbed of gossip. The tiniest incident that involved Steven Barclay always was of abnormal interest to his employes. Fortunately the saleswoman who brought the gowns was placidly incurious. The next fifteen minutes were

sheer heaven for Ellen. She never had owned an evening gown, evening gowns being one of the items invariably* missing from Aunt Myra's bqftcs. She had not known it would be such fun to select a gown only because it made her beautiful. She stood before a long mirror and held up before herself, one by one, gowns that fehe was convinced were the loveliest in the world. It was pure bliss to see that, although line and color seemed almost to change her personality as they did change her appearance, not even the trying burnt orange or the deep petunia could down the triumphant flush of her clear skin or deaden her bright hair. When she came upon the gown of Ivory taffeta, she knew she had found her dress. It did not make her an ingenue. I did not make her a duches. It did not make her mysterious. It only made her Ellen Rossiter, a girl of .10, clear-eyed 4nd clearskinned, a girl with slender hands and slender feet, beautiful, but more than that, a girl who was genuine and secure in her own personality. There were no ornaments, no frills on Ellen’s dress. It was only white taffeta falling to the floor. But it had been made in France by a great couturier who called his creation “Jeune Fille.” . Barclay returned after Ellen had seen the other gowns carried away. He glanced at the ivory taffeta over her arm. He hesitated ard then said: “I’m glad you selected that one.” As Ellen looked into his eyes, she saw with a little shock, half cf fear and half of strange pride, that life suddenly was becoming exciting. CHAPTER FOUR Ellen accepted Steven * Barclay’s offer to drive her to Dreamland, she did so with the same naturalness he had shown in extending the invitation. Their friendship had made such strides that her only hesitancy sprang from the vague fears which had troubled her in his office, fears that his name would be linked with hers by gossiping fellow-workers. But Barclay himself had no such fears. He moved in a different world than his employes. He would have been amazed had he dreamed of the complicated feelings of many of them, of their bitter narrowness, of their jealousy and envy of those more fortunate. He was too naturally modest to imagine that his comings and goings, however trivial, were of absorbing interest to scores of men and women who had never met him. Nor did it occur to him that he might be subjecting a girl to the breath of scandal. But as Ellen sank back into the soft depths of dove-gray cushions and turned her rosy face to him, he felt a pang as of anticipated pain. And he believed then that he had been unwise. He had not known until then why he had been so uneasy and so restless after Ellen had left his office that afternoon; he had not known why the routine business of the store had become so suddenly unimportant or why the hours had dragged so endlessly. (To Be Continued)

STICKERS

% •_ • *. ; The six dots are so placed on the squares that no row, vertical, horizontal or diagonal, contains more than one dot i Can you rearrange three of the dots so | that they continue to fulfill these con- 4 ditions? „

Yesterday's Answer

CD A£I,FGB HC_ 12,345,619 -8/ 999,999,999 In order to change the letters, at the top, to figures that will make the multiplication work out correctly, as shown in the black figures, C equals 1; D, 2; A, 3; E, 4; 1,5; F, 6; G, 7; B,9,and H,B.

TARZAN THE TERRIBLE

After clambering up the steep chalk wall some hundred yards, the she-pithecanthropus came to the last of the pegs. Above her head were a series of small round holes placed one above another in three parallel rows. Clinging only with her toes, Pan-at-lee removed two of the pegs from the bundle carried in her tail. Taking one in either hand she inserted them in opposite holes of the outer row as far above her as she could reach.

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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• -■ Hanging by these new holds she now took one of the remaining pegs in each of her feet, leaving the fifth grasped securely in her tail. Reaching above her with this member, she inserted the fifth peg in one of the center row's holes. Then, alternately hanging by her tail, her feet, or her hands, she moved the pegs upward to new holes. Thus she carried her stairway with her as she ascended and finally gained the summit of the cliff.

—By Ahem

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This manner of climbing was the last avenue pf escape for members of her tribe hard pressed by enemies from below. Three such emergency exits led from the village, and it was death to use them in other than an emergency. This Pan-at-lee well knew. But she knew, too, that it were worse than death to remain where the angered Es-sat might lay, hands on her. Now upon the summit, the girl moved quickly through the darkness in the direction of the next gorge cutting the mountainside.

OUT OUR WAY

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—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

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This was Kor-ul-lul, “the gorge of water,” to which Es-sat, the chief, had sent her father and two brothers under a pretext, so that he might steal her. There was a slender chance that she might find them. If not, there was the deserted Kor-ul-gryf, miles beyond, where she might hide from man indefinitely if she could elude the frightful monster from which it got its name. Stealthily she crept along, feeling very small and helpless in the night’s vast darkness.

PAGE 5

—By Williams

—By Blosseij

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Martin