Indianapolis Times, Volume 44, Number 239, Indianapolis, Marion County, 14 February 1933 — Page 13

FEB. 14, 1033

- £ POTLi (3 HTffigfi

BFGIN* HERE TOO AY SHEn.A SHAYNK flnnc/T. to fnarrv DICK STANLEY son of wealthy parentß. who Is in New York trvlna to lrn to write oiav*. Sheila * idea of merriare Is a ro7v little heme far from Broad Wav Although she ha s soent m<''' of her life on the stare. *''A Wou W he slat! to lea.e the theater „,9 n * road .show tour she mer’s JER- , WYMAN. Jerrv Is attentive and Sheila fall* in love with him. She things he Is a hard-workinr voting man v ;th * mom . ;nd <\w' not know hi* father owns the factory where jerry "orks. Soon his a faction seem* to cool and he write-- lnfreouentlv Sheila returns to New York and a few months later loins another road company. this time as the featured nrlneioal. Tluv nlav In Jerrv * home town but she c f s him only once. Alter that she has ho word from him until the tour ends and 'he eomnanv return* to New Yors. There she learns from her friend. JAPPY a chorus girl. that Jerrv has married a Sir! in hi.s home town. Sheila is too unhapDV to look for another lob until her money is almost gone. Then she i* hired as a dancer In a night club NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX (Continued) She b"gan a feverish sorting of costumes and. rising finally got out a suitcase and began to fold the costumes. “Got stockings?” asked the practical Tillie. “Plenty, thanks.” “Leave the suitcase and I'll have Mattie press the things. You can telephone just what you want and I'll send them down by a messenger.” At 10 that morning Sheila had not. cared whether she lived or died,, whether or not she ever danced again. At 4, hurrying downtown for tha rehearsal, she thought of nothing but the coming performance. CHAFFER THIRTY-SEVEN SHEILA liked dancing at Club Volcns, hut presently the engagement came to an end. A night club prefers to vary its entertainment and it had been understood that Sheila's work there was temporary. In two weeks she was out of a job again. Meanwhile, Johnny Harrell's promise to find a place for her in a stage production had not materialized. Sheila went to Mandrake’s office, hearing that he was casting a show. The role of the featured dancer in the production called for a girl who was small, petite, and blond. Sheila, by no stretch of the imagination, could be said to answer that description. Plenty cf girls did, however. Vera Dale got the part. Harrell wouldn’t let Sheila do a specialty dance in the new “Frivolities of 1933.” “You're not a beauty, you know, Sheila,” he told her. “Not the way they rate ’em. You have and talent is something that would be completely last in the ‘Frivolities’. ” “There'll be a job for you any time now, I'm sure,” Tillie Samper encouraged Sheila. The other four Sampcrs agreed. They had invited £er to stay on as long as she liked with them and pay w'hen she could. Trevor Lane heard that Sheila was looking for a job and telephoned to invite her to tea. She refused to let him lend her money. “I'm getting along all right,” she Insisted. ‘l'll get a job soon.” Lane studied her. “What you need is a change,” he announced. “Look here, how about a dilferent kind of job for a while? How'd you like to model dresses in a smart shop?” Sheila shook her head. “Those jobs aren’t so easy to get and besides it might hurt me with the agents.| They'd think I couldn't get a job dancing. Which happens, just now, to be true!” "Couldn’t you sprain an ankle or something—just as an excuse?” *Tve only two ankles and I can’t spare one. Besides, how could a girl model clothes with a sprained ankle? And how could I get such a job?” “I easily could arrange that. At Henri’s.” “You mean Henri really needs models? It wouldn’t be— just charity?” a a a IANE laughed. “Charity!” he .j exclaimed. “Wait until you’ve seen Henri! He's a devil to work for, but lie likes tall, aloof brunets. Thinks they show off his creations best. You'd suit him perfectly.’” “Do you really think so? Id be terribly glad if I could get the job.” In her purse was her last $5. In a few days she would have to borrow from the Sampers if she did not begin earning something. Trevor Lane telephoned to Henri. He returned to tell Sheila he had made an appointment for her to see the famous designer at 10 next morning. “And you'll get the job,” he assured her. “Now we can have dinner in peace with that off our minds. Please do! I’m lonely. Dick's a regular slave these days. Won't event take time off to eat.” “Is ho really working?” Slieila asked. She wondered if Lane knew that Dick had asked her to marry him. She did not think so. Actually, Trevor Lane knew that his cousin never had relinquished •the idea of winning Sheila. He knew’ that Dick was working toward the goal he had set for himself—financial independence for Sheila's sake. He knew that alone was the explanation of Dick's industry . “Working like the devil,” Lane told her. “Black coffee at night, stuffed telephone bell, doorbell cut off and all that sort of thing. I never see him any more.” Sheila said soberly, "It seems a shame. So much midnight oil burned, so much good white paper wasted in this town.” "Then you have no faith in Dick?" Sheila colored. “I didn't mean that. But every one writes, Trevor. You know that. It isn't like being an artist or an actor. Any one can set words down on paper and believe they are clever words. “Not nearly so many try the stage unless they have at least a little tnlc-nt. They can't get past the agents and managers. As for art —that’s too expensive, too discouraging. It's easier to see that you can t paint than it is to see you can't write.’’ “Asa matter of fact,” said the man slowly. “I think Dick can write. Would it make any difference in your feeling toward him if you thought he could?” “I feel that Dick is wasting

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jtime. He should be in business iat home as his father wants him to be. Oh. dear, I can't explain—” “Then don't try,” said Trevor. a a a THEY parted an nour later at the Sampers’ door. You’ve j been awfully good to help me,” Sheila told him. “I mean about I the job at Henri's.” They shook hands solemnly and j the girl watched as Lane swung into his car and started toward Broad- ! way. Eve, who occupied the other twdn | bed in Sheila's room still was awake. She demanded food and Sheila agreed to raid the ice box. She brushed, her hair, creamed her face, and went to the kitchen, j her little turned-up Chinese slip- | pers padding softly along the hall. Presently she returned with a glass of milk and sandwich. Eve was not afraid of encroaching pounds. “You are a love, Sheila,” she said. I don’t see why some nice .young millionaire doesn't come along and marry •you.” “I guess they’re all married,” Sheila slid her slippers under the bed and tucked herself in with elaborate care. “Trevor Lane isn't married,” Eve objected. “No.” “Doesn't he want to marry you?” the other girl asked bluntly, with the air of having wanted to ask . this question for some time. “If he does, he knows how to keep a secret.” “You are so fascinating,” resumed Eve, “that I don't see how any man resists you.” “You'd be surprised!” Eve set the empty glass on the table, snapped put the light above her head, and went on talking. ! Sheila answered in reluctant, sleepy | murmurs. I But she could not check Eve. The ; Samper girls never had many beaus and in meditating on another's conquests Eve was gaining a vicarious feeling of popularity. "Trevor got me a job,” Sheila said finally. "I'm sleepy, Eve. Let’s call it a day. I have to get up early.” n u a A CROSS town two young men -tv were sitting before a fireplace. One of them was talking, the other lighting a pipe. “Why don’t you go home?” Trevor Lane asked. “I have a hunch I Sheila might feel differently if you | weren’t here. She’s used, to wealthy ! young men following in her wake. She’s used to young men who think they can write. She’s—” “Is she accustomed to young men who write masterpieces for her to star in?” asked Dick coolly. Trevor laughed. “Is that your ambition?” "It’s been done by less persistent men than I.” Lane nodded soberly. “It’s an odd thing about that girl,” he said. “She has remarkable talent and it doesn’t mean a thing to her except as a means of earning a living. Bread [ and butter until she marries and i settles down in her own home to i forget the stage.” Dick moved wearily. “I want to offer her something besides what other people have given me,” he said. “Lord knows, I’ve offered her myself, my future, everything! That’s not much, though, if you count the family out. She just doesn’t give a darn about me, Trevor.” “You'll make her change her mind yet.” Lane assured him. “I wish 1 could think of something—” Dick rose, moved toward his hat. “I’ll be going,” he said. He held out a hand impulsively. “You’re a good scout. Trev. Nobody knows it better than I do. But—this is something I have to manage myself.” To Be Continued) Lake Ohred in central Europe is j an old, isolated, body of water which | has sheltered and kept in existence | many forms of animal life long extinct in other waters of Europe.

7T6GDK A DAY SY BRUCC CAJTON

TTSTHEN a really good book gets ’ published, a reviewer can call out the guard and lead three long cheers; and when a really bad one comes out, he can get out his scalping knife and have at it with a vim. It is the book which is neither good nor bad that really puts him up a tree. An example is "Mother and Four,” by Isabel Wilder. This is a novel by the sister of the talented Thornton Wilder, and for some reason it just fails to jell. It gets off to an excellent start. Miss Wilder introduces us to the wife of an eastern college professor. The professor just has died, leaving his widow to look after four children. of whom the oldest is 15 and the youngest is just out of babyhood. Financially, the widow is no better provided for than are most professors’ wives. The first part of the book, telling of the way in which this lonely, grief-stricken woman picks up the threads of life, keeps her family together and supports her children is really good. The author has brought sympathy, understanding, and technical competence to her job. But as the children grow' up, and the book tells how each one, in turn, goes out to meet life, the story just sort of unravels. Originally clearcut and distinctive, the characters become vague and unreal. The action lags, the reader’s interest founders in a sea of w'ords. and the story, for all its brave beginning, becomes just another novel. Published by Coward-McCann, "Mother and Four” sells for $2.

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

UM-M,JASON HUSH YO iAOU^'BEFO'I| 3MACK- —I NEVtR KNErNM MRS. HOOPLE HEA.RS YO. i iL; Jr ' ~. J, Vr*™* ip sw& knew m was sneak--=3. \ j \ IN' FOOD TO YO WWILE YO !S S > DcL.I(-'>wLii D l_r E SHE'D S / BISCUITS UM-M— EGAD, I v. SMACK Bet. HIVES ON jj M SAY TUtS SURPASSES THE MEAL H MAR HMD, AM' DEN vs =4 >L I HAD IN BUCKINGHAM PALACE 7 V (I mt} VE.PILY.G.BY JOVE, THE jPY* & i WILK DIET COtS ONE { ..J §L T niMA-ru )1 1 THING —IT CERTAINLY \ Hk.** ON YO> V J L. 1933 CY t.EA SERVICE. INC RES. U. S. PAT. OFF. 2.'t? ~~gEEr/

FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

THEY ALMOST GOT US WITH \ they have us, TRAPPED ? A POISONED ARROW AGAIN// ) they know we’re trying PER TWO CENTS I’D GO ' T ° PR EC KIES, AND DOWN THERE AW PUT J WE ’ RE - POWERLESS v THAT HOMBEE. OVER J\ THIS 15 Tc-RRIBLE ME KNEE// y ' s> m •• •i

WASHINGTON TUBBS II

r iss VERY STRAN6E.A / DOT’S \ BAH*. \F H&\ (f FRVEDAv PtY vOT V RAF N’T PER CASTLE ISS 1 / 6ECOSS I ISS ILL, VV ( ACCUSE!' PER 9AVAAASTER ) MONEV /VOU HEARP 9 FILLED MIT v y"- A— 1 ©. M, W WMtHUW U, MSN i| KEPT A SECRET/ SUT POLKS ARE. BETO TALK.

SALESMAN SAM

'Ve.R. G-OSH UJHaTS A /■ Doc SFPiS itO *W ttFxTTe-R. tOITH SeR. RterHT L Nr CAUCTPS’ 3p,0)? lTs J-S

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

UUfc To TVS, 'r\ys\ TVWKiCb W'c. 1 GXD'tOKi NS TVS: ONi Tv^ * Y\TTLD : TO 6TOR.Y OK) TOO, 1/1 WW3 KS.'t TOO ? 1 KAVSDIY \ \T'S TSfTRIR A , l . •

TARZAN the untamed

IQ '.31 R.tt Inc . b r Boon oad fUn: "" ", 'x’*""' *"** _ ~ —m—■ teTUirtu by I'BjTjj Funni Syumrsi. i.'fCQvoaArtt# ffiinm W il 1 / A.

While the revolt near the Punjab had not, as yet. assumed alarming proportions, the British prepared for action. Daily, on the parade grounds, martial maneuvers took place. Pat was adopted as th “Daughter qi the Regiment.”

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

She was at the review, watching the trooping rL£ e ? r , Un V nC \ m l rching ranks made her olood tingle! Almost, she regretted that in a few days she would be in the mountains’ coolness. The evening before her depart' 'e was her hirthd<yb

—By Ahern

E2 ,th - /j UNCLE HARRY’S AND BILLY \ BOWLEG’S " * PROGRESS *■' ' ' J HALTED, | L j ■s) . "sir .-IM | SACRIFICIAL C m x '* - IHJlfll O ! sTOhjE, aA, ■. o m -% ’AT THE TOP - 'J 1 *0 OF THE ,uv' XX 1 .J

f UDELL , UJRM FAlN’r Tw’ LEFT N 5 ’cROSt \ ONO] C-oTt^ I ,T6o? y S ON Th’ rightsioe.^ , —— D."' r ' ,'

OUT OUR WAY

hwe, \ / I want \ ” CUPIM! j j ScMteThim’ we-PEs ,| I -TO CLtAM < SONAE.Tt-4M j MS' PAAMDG -TO W\PE j \ ON 1 DOKiT l SOR£ j \ wakxt 'em \ v MJOP'S.6^y JT.F?.vVrLItA v M3 , G U?Av! W 6LCTTER C 1333 BY wm iwa. wc.wta.q.pT.orr. ?-M

f t TELL YOU VT’S TRUE. MY VUPE’S J I HEARD V SO PIP \, Y UNP A I HEARD IT VAS UNCLE'S MA\P KNOVIS PER COUSIN ] PER MONEY PER PRIM 2. \ PiZZY PRIM 2, HIMSELF, WHO UP PER POLICE CHIEF'S STABLE BOY J VASN’T /SPENT IT ALL] CHORUS STOLE PER MONEY, UNP H’*=. SESS PER. PRIMZ * STOLEN /ON NOOPEE / GIRLS, i UNP RAN AMAY MIT

TES.O? H YOU mi HOW A'&GLT 1 ONE AT A TIME , 'SOYG '-PIEAGE . COURSE- 1 HAKjE. AK)T I A UTTLE OP M P\TST,m HOtAE ?T. HAKSt 1 . OP COTUW6 1 VWGTO9T , 1 OF DOING NoOTP\N>G AT A\_\- TAT ||h RE.9.E ? | M - GO900K)? I PoPPOGE \K) COtA\NG> HE9E WAG To WHPPE \G I 9EPGEL 1 1 9AK) OGT OP GAG TOO 9 ROTE, k 'KiG OKiE9. TOO 9 PA\9? M 9. GOP.DON) ? J HOUi VOK)G €|ill§illlli C\TT ’. HOW \.ON>G OO E EXPECT TO ' EO TOO GTAT ? TG\<t TGK'. GEKT LEVAENi—YOO9. tKSf—EXPECT to maouepe! vnht. Y HANE JOET APEwED'■ AG AK>O WiEAT \G GTAT ? (f TO TIT PAGT vMGTOPY-AWr\'. AG \<\pL\NG TOO 9. OCCOPATIOViiC’ IT) rX G>A\D —THf\T \G AHOTHEP \ fNObG, \G - .. THE9E AK)TTH\K>G EIGE |_ y ° oo R u s PAT -orr.P. ,r,a bt " stHvict. me. * .

Lady Cecil gave a party in Pat’s honor. Always a marvelous dancer, every officer present demanded . , her as l >artner - Yet early morn found her ready t 0 leave, as a native craft shoved down the placid stieati,

( 'N ( \ 7 V \ E 7 hen l \ / MASTASHO \ ' . 7 MOMA j ( ESTRECHO ) SUDDENLY, S ? ? / \ INRERNILLO J TH& r c \\ 11 y PROCESSION j ( J(IX. * " J IMTEPRUFTLD V** . ' Q,. ’Hi e.’r.tj 1 , 1

'we.Lu,v’l-L.deoaojggoneDj*Th<at4Th' fireT: \ E.VIER. HEARD OR ANSeoDT VIATtM' vTUST-ONG. - p

Captain Canby accompanied Pat to the riv r port where the ‘‘Tiger’s Whelp” was to take her north. Aboard, all unconscious of the dark fate waiting for both of them, she waved her father farewell Si j was never to see him again.

—By Williams

—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

PAGE 13

—By Blosser

■ ne

-By; -ill

—By Martin