Indianapolis Times, Indianapolis, Marion County, 19 January 1937 — Page 16

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‘TUESDAY, JAN. 19, 1087 | NNY ... By Sylvia’ . : i ’

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES OUT OUR WAY

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i? PAGE 16 —_— Ek. = B FLAPPER FA

Williams SHUT UP? :

bu Robert Bruce

a Ring without a country

BEGIN HERE TODAY Paul I, King of Northumbra, becomes private citizen Paul Ferrone when he surrenders his throne and marries Ardath Richmond, Canadian-born actress. Paul's younger brother, Joseph, succeeds to the Kingship. Paul and Ardath choose a villa on the Bay St. Francis; for a few days their life is glorious. Then the eyes of the world find them, pry in deep. Paul goes into seclusion, sick at heart. Their only companions in this resort town of San Lorenzo are the vacuous Countess Di Marco, her playboy friend, Reggie Van Twyne, and Mrs. Van Twyne. Paul and Ardath follow the casino crowds but it becomes a boring affair. Paul, meanwhile, meets his old tutor, Dr. Sonders, archeologist. The doctor urges Paul to get a hold on himself, to do something. Paul and Ardath begin a European tour, end up in Paris. They attend a party at the home of Duc de Montmiral, intellectual and patron of the arts. A guest, not Knowing Paul, opens ' the conversation about exiled kings and slurs - Ardath. Enraged, Paul knocks him down, finds the man is a Paris columnist. The Duc warns Paul all Paris will hear of the encounter. ~ NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY

The characters and situations in this story are wholly fictional and imaginary and are not intended to poriray any actual persons or events.

- CHAPTER SIX

HE gloomy prediction of the Duc de Montmiral proved quite correct. Before a week had passed all of Paris was reading that the former King Paul of Northumbra had: knocked', down the novelist, Raoul Bayard, in a brawl at the home of a distinguished Parisian patron of the arts. Paul reflected bitterly that the Duke undoubtedly could have prevented publication of the story if he had wished to do so. After all, even a guttersnipe gossip-monger like Bayard—whose serious psychological novels were in such startling contrast to the way in which he earned his living—would not have crossed the wishes of his host. But Bayard had gone ahead and published. Obviously, the Duke. had given tacit assent. . As a matter of fact, the story made very little stir. The boulevardiers read it and chuckled; smars society read it and passed on to the next item. Within a week it had been forgotten. But it did leave a faint .stain on the public mind, Paul knew, if no more than a vague impression that the former King of Northumbra was a hot-tempered brawler. Some morbid instinct for selfpunishment led Paul to collect the Parisian journals and read the accounts of the affair— accounts which, in the repeating, were grotesquely distorted. He looked at

them, in his hotel room, with a rue-

ful smile on his lips.

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“I~ ONT, dear,” bégged Ardath.]|

“You hurt yourself when you don’t need to. What does it matter, after all, what those things say?” *Very little, 1 - suppose,” said Paul. “And yet—Ilook at this one.” He held up an article for her to read. “That the runaway King should fight is neither surprising nor disturbing.” said this article. “What is surprising is that he should have been a guest in the house of the Duc de Montmiral where the en-

pleasant personalities, the desperate fear of boredom, of having to live by one’s own resources, the occasional streak of viciousness beneath the surface. . Paul tried to put these things out of his mind. He told himself that he was indulging in the worst form of snobbery; after all, when he had been occupying the throne of Northumbra he had found it tremendously stimulating to get away from the stuffiness of formal palace life and mingle with those folk who had made an art out of finding amusement. The people who disapproved of them now were the same people who had disapproved of them then; was there any reason why he should let that disapproval affect him any more now than it had a year ago? But an increasing restlessness was on him; a restlessness that made even the warm sunlight, the exquisite loveliness of the sea and the unfailing softness of the bay's famous breeze from the south, seem cloying and over-sweet. And he brought it all out, or tried to, one evening. Ardath was in her dressing room, dressing for an entertainment to | which they were about to go. Paul sat on a chaise longue, lighted a cigaret, smoked moodily for a moment, and then said, “Dearest, what do you say. we chuck it all?” “Chuck it?” she repeated. Startled, she turned to look at him; in her left hand she still held up the hand mirror in which she had been inspecting some detail or ofher of her make-up. “Chuck it? You mean—our life with each other?” “Sweetheart! No! No—I mean this . . . this life here on the bay. How would it be if we uprooted ourselves and went—went somewhere and made a fresh start?” She laid the mirror down. Her face had grown pale at his first words; now the blood returned to it again. “Where would you go?” she asked. “What would you. do?” “Oh—". Paul hesitated. “I'd get clear away from this place and— and all of these people. I'd—” He stopped, and very painstakingly tamped his cigaret butt in an ashtray.

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5 O YOU know what I've always half-wanted to do?” he went on at last. “I've always thought I might like to live—” he looked at her doubtfully, then continued—“to live on a ranch. In Canada, per-

© NEA. Service Inc 1937

haps, or the western United States, or even in the Argentine.” She said, “A ranch?” “Yes. Please don't laugh, dearest.” “I'm not.” - “You see—T toured all of those countries, years ago, when I was prince. There’s something about that life—ranch life, I mean. The country is so big—in Manitoba, say, or Montana—you have that feeling of freedom, as if you had plenty of room to breathe and move and live. And the life is so good, too. It's useful, dear, it means something. You can feel that you're accomplishing something, pitting yourself against nature, actually doing things with your own hands—” . She got up and came over to him. She sat beside him and tenderly put her arms around him. “Paul, my dearest boy, my sweetheart,” she said softly, “are you as bored as all that with me? Is life here so unendurable that you must dream a dream like that? “Love, love—remember, I've seen America. I've seen those ranches at close range. Those plains are wide, and they're lonely. The winters are cruel and the summers are scorching; they hit you with dust storms and tornadoes and drought and plagues of grasshoppers—"

o ” »

HE broke off and . stroked his cheek gently. “My darling, we'd be babes in the woods in a setting like that. We shouldn't last one year. We'd hate each other before we were through. ! We just aren’t built for it, Paul.” When she spoke of the natural disadvantages, Paul felt, “I would like that—something to fight, something to test my stamina and show. me how good a man I really am.” But when she finished he stared unseeing, dejected, at the floor. She was right. They just weren't built forit.,. “Tell me, dear boy,” she was saying, taking his face between her palms, “has it been a bad bargain for you?” “No, no, dear one,” he cried suddenly, tightening his arms about her. - “Oh, my darling, my angel —no!” But as their lips came together they felt across them, unbidden and unadmitted, the shadow of the lost throne.

(To Be Continued)

JOKER By Larry Porter ~——Daily Short Story

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1937 by United Feature Syndicate,

Reg. U. S. Pat. Of.—AR rights

YO’ BALL STATEROOM BUT AH Copa

“Gee, Fanny, why do we keep this awful old stuff?” “Well, one generation's junk becomes another's antiques.”

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o’ A N-NO (505?) : IN YY) LEFT IT - | THERE (S057) -OHZ—1 WANT MY NICE BALL:

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counter took place. That house is France's most distinguished salon; there one may meet artists, scientists, musicians, creative folk who are far removed from the thoughtless crowd that infests the lovely

YES, YOUR HIGHNESS - YOU'VE NOTHIN® TFEAR-ID LIKE TSEE WUR JUS’ TRY TO GET IN

NICE! LOOKS AS IF I'M JUST IN TIME FOR DINNER -

Bay St. Francis. What, one asks, was this self-deposed monarch doing in that company? It is far more startling to learn that the distinguished patron would have him as a guest than to learn—" » Ardath threw it on the floor. “I won't read it,” she cried. “It's cruel—cruel—and so unjust! What do they know of you, anyway?” Paul stocd up. “They know what I. .have shown them, I suppose,” he said. “After all, my dear, people are very often judged by the company they keep. And I=" “Oh!” The color drained from her face. “And you have been , .. have been with me constantly, and my name is a byword, and—"

4

5 Y . darling!” He was at her side instantly, his arms around her. ‘“Ardath, my love, my life, don’t say that. You know I didn't mean that. You. are all I have and all I ever hope to have. You—" She put her fingers on his lips and looked up, hurt and serious. “I know you didn’t mean it,” she said gently. “But it’s true. These people whom everyone suddenly seems to find so—so distasteful, are my people, after all. They're my friends, the friends I've always had. I'm a part of that set. I have brought this on you. Oh, Paul, Paul, my darling, what am I doing to you?” : He held her close. “You are doing nothing to me,” he said, “except make my life free. The rest—it doesn’t matter, after all. The world at large may think what it pleases. I have you, and that's enough. It's everything.” Yet it was not shrugged off quite as simply as that. A shadow had fallen ‘across them, and .it was a shadow that would not be talked out of existence. It was the shadow, perhaps, of a throne that had been given up, a shadow that no magic could ever dispel but that wculd remain forever, never quite forgotten, to chill even the flame of love itself. Never, not even in their most exalted moments, could they quite drive it away; in the bottom of their hearts—although thgy refused to admit it—they knew that it was a shadow that would go with them as long as life lasted. .

They left Paris and weaf back * to the villa San Margarete. Winter on the Bay St. Francis was as benign as summer. The blue water held just a little more chill, perhaps, the dawn light was just a little .colder and less balmy than in the summer; but the afternoon sunlight was still a warm blanket beneath which one could drowse the day away, and the evenings were languorous under the rich blue subtropical sky. 2 # ”

UT it was hard for Paul to get back into the easy, happy-go-lucky routine of the "pleasure coast. If his attempt to break away from this circle had been an ignominious failure, he nevertheless was compelled now to see Ardath’s friends through the eyes of the outer world. Things he had barely noticed before became inescapably clear—the emptiness beneath so many of these

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“Yowd be talking to that guy, hand you your watch!”

OE UR B AN E, bondsman, sprawled on a' bench in the Magistrate's Court, waiting for the noon recess to come to an end. His derby hat was pushed forward over ane eye; he gnawed on the stump of an unlighted cigar; his pudgy hands were clasped across the broad expanse of his stomach. He glanced up as two detectives entered the courtroom and approached him. “‘Lo, boys,” he greeted “What's doing today?” “Nothing much,” answered one of the detectives. He sat down next to Joe, stretching his longs out in front of him. “How's the stomach teday?”® Joe shook his head mournfully, as thie other detective sat down on the cther side of him. “You know, Eddie.” he said, “none of this stuff the doctor gives me does any good. I been taking some new pills for two weeks now, but the stomach is as bad as ever. Can't hardly get any sleep nights.” “Too bad,” said Eddie sympathetically. “My brother-in-law, he has the same trouble. Nothin’ ever does him much good, either.”

them.

2

HE detective was silent for a moment, “Say,” he asked, “did you see ‘in the papers about Looie, the pickpocket?” > Joe's brows pulled together in a sorrowful scowl. “Yes. Ain't it too bad?” he remarked. “I was just readin’ about it a minute ago. They musta just walked right in his room and

“Naw,” Eddie said. “Sure too bad,” Joe repeated, shaking his head. “Even if he was just a pickpocket, I hate to think of his going that way.” Eddie looked at the bondsman with faint surprise. “Yeah? Thought you was sore at Looie for some kind of doublecross.” “Me? Naw—that was forgotten a long time ago.” Joe laughed. “Ol Looie, for a crook, was a great little guy.” Joe mused “He sure was good with his hands. All the time swipin’ stuff oyt of his friends’ pockets just for the fun of it. Youd be talkin’ to that guy, and the next thing you knew, he’d hand you your watch!” i Eddie smiled. “Yeah, he was quite a Kkidder.” ; “Sure was. I remember, one time, he hooked that war medal of McGroarty’s that Mac always carried in his vest pocket. Looie’d made one out of tin and stuck i$ in Mac's pocket. Mac carried the piece of tin around for a week before: he happened to look at it and discover

bumped him off. You on ithe case?”"

it Wasn't Hig medal.” Joe removed |

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and the next thing you knew, he'd

the cigar from his mouth and chuckled. “Yeah, Looie was a great little joker.” ”

“¥ coulda sworn you was sore at him,” Eddie repeated. “Not me. That stuff’s all water under the bridge. You know how I am.” : “Had you seen him lately?” Eddie asked. “I last saw Looie—let’'s see—I guess I haven't seen him. for a coupla weeks, anyway.” “Hadn’t seen him at all, eh?* “No. Say—you don’t think I had anything ‘to, do with this, do ya? I never carried a rod in my life. Besides, lotsa guys’ll tell ya I wasn’t near Looie this morning.” “Joe,” Eddie said slowly, “you better come over with me and talk to the chief, anyway.” “Say,” Joe protested, “what's eatin’ you, anyway? I tell ya, I ain’t been near Looie.” “You see, Joe,” Eddie explained, “while you were talking to Looie in his room this morning, he must have swiped that box of pills out of your vest pocket just for a joke. We found them in his coat pocket. The druggist’s label on the box had your name on it.” “Nuts!” Joe exploded. pills right here!” He fished in his pocket, pulled out a small box. He stared at it in surprise, then pushed it open. There were no pills inside, only a slip of paper. Joe’s eyes widened as he unfolded the paper. It bore a brief message: “Dear Joe— Ha! Ha! Looie.” THE END

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1937, by

(Copyright, ) Syndicate,

United Feature Inc.)

The characters in this story are fictitious.

Ask The Times

Inclose a 3-cent stamp for reply when addressing any question of fact or information to The Indianapolis Times Washington Service Bureau, 1013 13th St. N. W., Washington, D. C. Legal and medical advice cannot be given, nor can extended research be undertaken,

Q—What design is on the national flag of the Soviet Union? A—It has a red ground and in the canton are a golden hammer and sickle crossed, superimposed by a five-pointed golden star,

Q—What is the origin of the word panhandler?

of the origin

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A—One explanation

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“I can’t ALWAYS be

wrong—it must be my ‘mother who’s lost this tinje.”

CROSSWORD PUZZLE

20 To turn toward the east. 21 Sport. 22 Rootstock. 23 Slovak. 24 Pertaining to the palate. 25 Preposition. 26 To wander, 27 Old World duck. 28 To classify. | 29 Fleet of ships 30 His military title. 32 To parry. 33 Told an untruth. 35 Male ancestors, 36 Robber. 37 Rough : crooked . tree, 40 Pertaining to | air. 42 Strife, 43 Boy. : 44 To observe, 46 To exist. 47 Senior.

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Answer to Previous Puzzlé

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HORIZONTAL 1,7 English _ -statesman. 11 Female horse. a 12 Lava. 93 Stringed instrument. 14 Roof point covering. 15 Brocch. 16 Neuter pronoun. 17 Northeast. 18 To speak. 19 Myself. 20 Lubricants. 21 Fuel. -39 Plural 22 Maple. pronoun. 23 Spread of an 40 Part of a arch. drama. 26 Tatter. 41 Final decision. 27 Compensated. 43 Deposited. 28 Bed lath. 44 Antitoxins. 29 Conventional. ‘45 To value 31 Native metal. 46 Bundle. 32 Colt. -47 Harem. 33 To wash. 48 Clad. 34 His political 49 He is the . party. British —— 37 Spain.

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G L HV | |RISIVUIT MIA] | L|EIAISIE N QO VERTICAL :1 To improve. 2 Back of neck. 3 Three. 4 Masculine pronoun, 5 Spikes. 6 Strong jerk. 7 Ireland. 8 Period. 9 And. 10 Hubs. 15 Wan. 18 Bound. 19 Wise men.

38 Faint color.

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part of a state resembles on the map a panhandle, that area 1s affectionately known by that name; the best known are in Texas, West, Virginia and Idaho. Their widespread distribution has made y an excellent opener for the coniidence men and Op is believed to be the source of panhandler as a beggar. “I'am from the old Pandhandle, Don’t you remember me?” Another

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explanation is that it comes from the pa held out for alms.

Q—By what means are programs distributed to the network radio stations? : A—They are distributed from the originating studio to the stations

on the networks hy telephone wires:

especially maintained for the purpose. These differ from ordinary lines because are one-way cir

cuits that carry only fhe sounds that enter the microphines,in the originating studio. 118 Q—What was the tofal attendance at the Louisiana Piirchase Exposition in St. Louis, ir. 1904? : .A—19,694,855. | “How many species of true allizators are there? :

19

Statecraft has failed to abolish| The sanctimonious attitude diswar, Christianity must come to |played by many Americans toward the rescue, or civilization will perish | their Constitution proceeds from from the earth.—The Rt. Rev. J. E. | misunderstanding and not from

American aid Chinese.

Freeman, Episcopal bishop, Wash- | malice.—Federal Judge William