Indianapolis Times, Indianapolis, Marion County, 8 January 1941 — Page 16

Y, JAN. 8, 1941) By Williams (itiams

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES OUR BOARDING HOUSE : ‘With Major Hoople © 7 WHAT THE wwf man "977772 THE BREAKFAST KZA DOES JAKE CATCHY 7 A TIME TABLE HM! 7 DEPARTMENT CLOSES Y ON QUICKLY. AND J SPIO Orr Ad IIITT Z| AT o AM,., JAKE, BUT DOES SHE UNDER- =: T GAY, MARTHA, T KINDA Y/X T MAY BE ABLE TO {A STAND HIM www J HATE TO BRING THIS UP, AS )Z ( FIND SOME CAKES /Z{ LIKE A SPITFIRS § THE FELLA SAID WHEN HE

} FOR ONE SO 3° UNDERSTANDS AY * FOUND THE SKUNK IN THE GENEROUS AND MESSERSCHMIDT/ CELLAR, BUT T GOT A COUPLE

CONSIDERATE! /) 2 Sa OF OFFERS OF JOBS, AN'T Kg : AE a)

MIGHT AS WELL PAY ROOM RENT ji IIIT =v TO KINFOLKS AS MONE © A 1% HOTEL {wun BY THE WAY, ANY PANCAKES THIS MORNING 7 4

HOLD EVERYTHING

: Serial Story—'

~ Conscript's

By BETTY WALLACE

| YESTERDAY—Bill seems almost glad |! to get away from the drab routine of the store. And before Martha realizes » it, the day for Bill’s leaving has arrivea. "|| Paul goes to the train with them. As © + | Bill swings aboard he tells Paul to " look out for Martha, The train leaves. Martha faces Paul. “I’m a conscript’s wife now.”

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CHAPTER THREE

|| MARTHA MARSHALL stood on [| the platform, watching with tear- «| blurred eyes as the lights of the { train grew dimmer and dimmer in | the distance. She scarcely noticed | when the crowd of people began | ‘pushing toward the stairs. A Some‘1 one behind her said wearily, “Well, that’s over.” | For Martha, it wasn’t over. It | was just beginning. She thought of |. the empty apartment—the silence | and the memories that were waiting

; “I her—and her throat tightened. ir | Paul touched her arm. “You | COPR. 1941 BY NEA SERVICE, INC. T. M. REG. U. & VAT. OFF. | |

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| THE OFFICES OF AN INSURANCE. BROKERAGE:

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| want to stop somewhere and have demonstration?” - something now?” ~ “I—I couldn’t, Paul.” Out in the car, Butch was whinI ing, his nose pressed against the ] glass. He bounded out as Martha . opened the door. He licked her : hand. Then he looked behind her. . His head cocked to one side, inquiringly. He seemed to be asking, “Where’s Bill?” “He’s gone, boy,” murmured Martha. “Gone for a long time. There’s just you and me, now.” “Well,” Paul said gently. “There’s I! :me, too. Remember, I ' promised | Bill I'd look after you.” | Martha didn’t answer. She pat-| ted the dog’s head and remembered | the far-away day she and Bill had | first seen him. He'd been a scrawny "little pup in the arms of a weeping small boy. “My father don’t want him,” the boy said, huddled up on the curbstone. He had looked at them with tragic brown eyes. “I just can’t take him to the pound. They'll g--g-gas him.” : “The puppy had pathetic bowed "legs and a funny, wrinkled little I“ muzzle. Martha had reached for | “him and the little boy asked eagerly, “Do you want him, Missus? | * Do you, He's a good dog. He don't eat much. Honest, he don’t.” Bill coughed. “I'll give you a | dollar for him.” rl “Gee, Mister!” {| For nights afterward Martha had © had to get yp to feed the crying |." “little puPpy. He had to be house |” broken, and there was the problem of what to do about him while they |

worked. : qq] ET Bill cursed himself for every hav- A Il ’ i ing bought the animal. Yet he SAL ig : + was the one who said, “It’s tough SS | FLOY FLOY--- I'LL ‘SHOW | “on you, coming home froth the Eo. i = You SOME REAL ICE | © office and straightening the dump, > ms sr SKATING ! anyway. Let's get a woman to help NN | ih * —she could fix our dinner, too— | and then she'd he here to let the | pup-out during the day.” “Martha,” said Paul, touching her al

)-IT'S NOT EVEN : S THOSE DEAR |’ HYAR'S OUR FUST PAYE ARE THINKING M « EF WE GOES WNERGINT CRIMNLL, NAME. OF GAT GARSON, SHO iT TH

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| didn’t eat dinner,” he said. “Do you “How can we tell if a "a is worth $5000?

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COPR. 1941 BY NEA SERVICE, INC. T. M. homens

EC.1. 8. PAT. OFF. [1-8 —

“Private Curbaie, your shoelace is untied!”

THIS CURIOUS WORLD By William Fergushn El a En

NOW DAT'S CALLED YoU'RE AN A FIGGER EIGHT--« EXCELLENT I'LL TEACH YA How ‘SKATER, To DO IT SOME SLUGGO! TIME !

FLL BET AND ILL TEACH

YOU THIS ONE

arm. “Martha, what is it,” F-3 ” ”

i . - SHE SHOOK THE memories from . her. She mustn't go off into dazes © like this. There was so much to re- | member—but she had to keep going, had to bear up. After all, she | thought, trying to whip herself into |. °. being sensible, she had been alone before she married Bill. Butch scrambled back into the car. Martha got wearily in behind him, Paul didn’t ask if she wanted him to drive. He simply held ou! his hand for the key. ~ They were almost home when '.. Martha said, “Wait, Paul. I—I guess = 1 am hungry, after all” She couldn’t face the empty apartment. . Not just yet. . . . _.- “You must have been hungry,” said Paul, in.a restaurant a few . minutes later, as she lifted a roll to her lips and put it back without ex i tasting it. “Now, listen, Martha. | 0 You've got to be reasonable. He's ‘ not, going off to do or die—nobody's going to take potshots at him. It’s Just training.” x “I know,” she smiled wanly. “I _ know.” . “Well, for Pete's sake, buck up.” AN “Til try.” ~ He fiddled with his fork. I * promised Bill I'd take care of you.” * There was a wry little smile around his mouth. “I'm not going to let you mope. Why, you won't even have + time to miss the guy. Because you ‘and I are going to be very gay. Very patriotic, see? The chin up, the spirit fearless, and body parked in .a movie évery night.” ut she couldn’t summon even a .. smile, so he took her home. After “she had said goodnight, Martha _ threw herself on her bed. The tears =.» which had been dammed up so long “came freely then. She cried with

~ ERNIE IBUS IAA IAL TRS, wo ————

ol COPR. 1941 BY NEA SERVICE, INC.

KZA ER)

By Crane

| al WASHINGTON TUBBS II j COMRADE NIKOLAS, Bl YOU WILL BRING ME ONE a BAG OF CEMENT AND SOME WATER < a. cz Neier Rade re Za

HOW REVOLTING! SWEETS TO THE SWEET, MY CHAP! OUR CHARMING

GUEST WILL BE PLACED WN THE CLOSET WITH THE JAMS AND JELLIES!

BUT WOT ABOUT THE DAME, CHIEF 2 AIN'T YOU GONNA SHOOT ER?

THANK YOU, COMRADE.) AND NOW SOME BRICKS, \F YOU PLEASE. ONCE I WAS AN APPRENTICE MASON, AND OCCASIONALLY 1 LIKE TO PLY MY ; RADE

NOW, THIS CLOSET... A USELESS AFFAIR, FULL OF JAMS AND JELLIES. I WILL SEAL IT UP 4

T. M. REG. U. 8, PAT. OFF. IN COLONIAL DAYS, il IT WAS BELIEVED | 2 7: THAT A PERSON WHO| : 4 ATE LOTATOSS | HW LEAL | WwWouLD DIE WITHIN

SEVEN VEARS.

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OW MANY MEN MAKE UP #& HOCKEY T

wd NA i: rd ANSWER—Ice hockey, the Lost popula form of the sport, jises a six-man team. Field hockey uses 11 men.

| 4 | | | | |

‘Beer Barrel Polka' Is No. 1 On British War Hit Parade

‘Navy ard Air Force. Som¢ 450,000 copies have been sold.

LONDON, Jan. 8 [(U. 1.) ~-Big-

whole year without him?”

~ cried with her fists balled up and

“he crawled up and licked her com-

~ _ some, he had none of Bill's dark

« =: when he smiled, like this, his plain, ~ # bony face became oddly charming.

‘.. blues out of the apartment with a

¢ her face in the pillow. where Bill's ‘ head had lain, every night. . She

_ Butch worried and restless on the floor under her bed.” After a while,

* fortingly. “Oh, Butch,” she wailed. “Butch, ‘how are we going to get through a

Butch: jumped up on the bed and did his doggy best to assure her that it could be done. Next morning, in the office, she was ashamed of having been such a ..fool. She greeted Paul with a cheer‘ful smile. “The flood is over,” she said. “From now on, it’s stout heart, iron control and bring on the gaiety.” a “ Paul grinned. He wasn’t hand-

‘good looks or the boyish charm. But “You call up Suzanne right away! The first thing to do is drive the ‘steak dinner, radio music and loud

‘ talk.” 2 #8

SO AT 5 O'CLOCK Suzanne droveé|:

“4ip fo the plant in her smart gray ‘coupe. Martha and Paul squeezed in. They stopped at a supermarket and bought quantities of] ‘food. In the kitchen, Martha ‘donned an apron and Paul, appro‘priating the only other one avail .able, -began supervising production. He ‘was. sarcastic about the way Suzanne set the table, took Lover the task himself, © “It’s simply not your line, Sue.” # “Oh, isn’t it? I'm very domestic, underneath.” “you make the coffee, Sue. Any‘one can make coffee. Just measure

gest song hit of this war i¢ the “Beer Barrel Polka.” [i Canadian soldiers | sang it when they debarked in England. | Australian and New Zealand '$oldiers sang it when they filed down the gangplank in the | Middle - East. English soldiers sang it as they trudged through [the mud of France. And shelter-dyeliers in London sing it while tlie bombs whistle down about them. | So far it has sold nearly a raillion copies—and it’s still a good seller. Running a close seconcl oh England’s “hit parade” is the ZAmerican best-seller, “South of the Border,” which, inciden:ally, was written by England's best | known song-writing team, Jimmy Keanedy and Michael Carr. That, too, has sold nearly a half million copies. Third place probably gces to “Wish Me Luck, You Wave Me Good-Bye,” “with | which | Gracie Fields, the English |comeclienine now in the United States, sang her way into the hearts of the British Array,

the living room. anne said bitterly, “If I walked arcund with flour on my nose; I suppose he'd admit that 1'm domestic.” After difiner, they went out fo la, movie. Martha hung back in the darkness of the aisle 50 that Suzanne could sit next io Paul She thought] = triumphantly, “I'm so tactful! I hope Sue appreciates it.” But then, the | figures on the screen became blurred. Having aul and Suzanne for dinner had not chessed the ghosts out of the apgriment at alll. It had simply

right, add—"

Carr, working alone, wiote the song thit is in fourth place; “Somewhere inn France,” whose p¢pularity waned after the British r¢treat to Dunkirk, It sold 400,000 cd oies. But npne of the songs of this war approaches the sales of England's hits of | the World War. |For intance, "It's a Long, Long} Way to Tipperery,” sold 5,000,000 copies, “Roses | of Picardy,” 3,000/000, and “Keep the Home Fires Turning,” more than 1,000,000 copies : Publishers attribute the drop in sales of hit songs to the which a popular song todhy is literally “played to death” [in about 13 weeks, whereas during} the last war the average life of aj hit song was two years. Songs symbolizing the | universal hope ior better days ajiead are finding a ready market. [Jne publisher commissioned Irvijrg Berlin write a song expressing this thought. Berlin produced “It's a Lovely! Day Tomorrow,” Vv hich sold 100,00C; copies. Othdérs that have sold well include ‘It’s a Hap Hap Hippy Day” and “We'll Go Smiling jilong.” I husband was doing now at that Reception Station. Was| he lying somewhere on a cot, in § tent perhaps? Was he think of her? It was— she. tried to look at her wristwatch, but it was too dajk—it must be 10/30. Did soldiers hjive to turn in eaily? ay : Pail leaned across Suzanne. “What's the matter, Mar ha?” “Nothing.” She gave her attention, | determinedly, to [the blond tornsdo on the screen,| who was whirling through the mad motions of a very torrid rhumia. (To Be Contin ed)

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~—By Martin

TRENKS § KNOW, WITH & ANTTLE LREGEMENT, I SELENE LT COLD GROW TO UKE You tb

NOT GAD! NOt SBN wa \S GOS BACK? \S We OoKANX 1?

Ye IT'S WORTH TEN Gif MILLION TO ME TO GET THIS OLD BUM TO TAKE A BATH-BUT | MUST GO ABOUT IT S UAVELY~ HE MUST NEVER SUSPECT--*) ER- DINNER WON'T BE READY FOR HALF AN HOUR--

reminded her of those other dinhe She |

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SEEMS | N ER WAT,

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By NOT TAKIN'A SPEND YOUR TIME MORE NICE HOT BATH~ PLEASANTLY THAN BY

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