The Syracuse Journal, Volume 28, Number 25, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 17 October 1935 — Page 6

6

WATCH the CURVES | By RICHARD HOFFMANN | ■ Copyright by Richard Hoffmans WNTT Service J

SYNOPSIS Following hl* father'* criticism of hl* idle life, and withdrawal of financial assistance, Hal Ireland, aon of a wealthy banker, la practically without funds but with the promise of a situ* atlon In San Francisco, which he must reach, from New York. He takes p#ssare with a cross-country auto party on a "share expense" basis. Other members of (he party include an attractive girl. 'Barry Trafford; middle* a<ed Giles Kerrigan: Sister Anastasia, a nun: and an Individual whom he instinctively dislikes. Martin Crack. Barry's reticence annoys him. To Kerrigan he takes at once, but he distrusts Crack. He finds hie Intimacy with Kerrigan ripening, and makes a little j progress with Barry. Through a mlsi understanding, at a stopping place. Hal is directed to Barry's room. Instead of his own. and they exchange kisses. Next day he tells her ho loves her. She answers that she mustn't love him. without giving any reason. Crack brutally insults Kerrigan. Hal forces him to apologise abjectly, and his feeling of disgust toward Crack is Intensified. On his Insistence. Barry tells Hal that, at her father's urging, she had married a man many years older than she. and had promised her father, on his deathbed, to stick to her husband, "no matter what happened.” for ten years. That was four years ago. and despite her knowledge of her husband's unworthlnese. she Is determined to keep her promise, though admitting her love for Hat CHAPTER Vll—Continued “Come on." she wild. ’Let’s stretch our legs. Let’s see Wyoming." v "Lady, have you ever had a good look at my legs?" Kerrigan\ asked, as a question of grave scholarshin. “No. of course not; I beg panion. The point Is they're past stretching. Take my young friend Ireland with you. but let me hare him back In good condition. And mind your pup: coyotes'll lends dog uh he's tired arAl then turn on him." "I wish you’d come,*’ said Barry. “I wish 11 would," said Kerrigan, "but I won’t. I'll sit here thinking of old. old brandy, and I'll be younger when you come back. Be off. If you run Into Host.vies, send me a line by one of 'em and I'll be at your side in ap twinkling—{say. an hour and a half." the top of a little r’.dge to the westward, from which they could look down the road where Rasputin waited, and see across to the mountain range behind which the sun would set, they •lowed their (pace and stopped. ; "That's not a long walk." said Barry. “I.ong enough," said Hal “Rattlesnakes." “Oh gosh! not reallyF said Barry, snoring to him. He watched her without stirring his arms, smiling a little at her and to himself. “No* he said. “I just wanted you to come where 1 could touch you and then show you I wouldn't I'm proud of keeping my promise; you must ask me why I'm so strong." There was a memory of solemn alarm under her smile. “Why are youF' •he said dutifully. She sat down facing the west, her lags doubled and one firm shoulder hunched where she leaned against her arm. "Because." he said, stretching him •elf before her, “because you've drawn your loveliness up Into a kind of toy-' alty that ’maker you more beautiful than I thought even you could be. Because you have a pride and purity in your eyes that goes as far above the world as that peace that makes Slater Anastasia beautiful. And yet your bravery is warm and living; you don't turn your back on life; and you can’t turn your back on the moat implacable thing I've known In life—my fantastic desires for you. for the beauty behind your eyes, tor the beauty—" She turned from her lonely looking Into the west, glanced from his mouth to his eyes with that awed, still consternation. and said, “Hal. that's not—darling, we ll have to go back." •And because." Hal went on. “tomorrow nothing you can put against me can atop me—nothing. There. I’ve finished. And you can watch the strength and Implacability coming Into me with every minute of my promise" “Hal." she said hopelessly, stripping her hat from the golden luxuriance that rah simply back from the round of her forehead. She faced the west again and watched It, trying Its farthest distance with the sorrow of her eyes. Then sire turned to him and said artlessly. "What about your socks?" “Socks?" said,Hal. his look laughing as he glanced at them. “What about them?" ~ “I’ve got things to wash out—tonight. or whenever we get anywhere." she said. “If you've got any things, I can do them, too." "You’re certainly not going to wash my socks." said HaL She seemed to straighten a little in defense as she said. “And why not?" “Why. d—n it all. because—" “If you were III." Barry interrupted, •would you let anybody else take care of you If I could? I wouldn’t shine your shoes, because you’re plenty strong enough to do it for yourself; hut for the love of Mike why shouldn't I do washing for you If you’ve got things that need It? Is It beneath me, or something? Wouldn't you shine my shoe* if I asked you to?" •Os course." “Welk then. Perhaps you didn't know you wear woolen socks, and woolen sock# shrink if they’re not carefully done." “I didn’t know that." said HaL “Tell “I’d tell you lots more " said Barry, “if you’d try to see my meaning, and remember It* “Barry, d'you think I forget anything you say—anything, even the first word yen said to me, years ago, when you used to make me mad?" . “WelL what dld l say . ■ f • I

“You said—We were standing In that place, wherever It was—you know—that place, and you said—No, signals off. We were In the car and you said It wasn’t my cigarette that burned your coat." Barry chuckled at him. slowly and huskily, with her head a little back and her firm, white throat fulL “Close. Mr. Ireland, close. I'm glad you remembered. I used to watch you being made mad by me and love It. And now—" she said, her voice touching the edge of sorrow, then evading it In a little sigh: “now I’m asking you to let m£ wash your socks." • • • The sun set in bold, steady red, a short ledge of cloud fastened across it; and the whole dry spread of the land—the tawny, tufted sweep of plain ground, the rust and gray and emery stripes of strata under the flat terraces of rock, the high, heavy mountain peaks piled beyond—all came by a soft, purple clarity, as if they stood In tinted water. Hal and Barry had risen to watch the silent glory of the colors—she with her back against blm and her hands clasped over his, the slow rhythm of her breathing under his touch. She took a faltering breath and let It go reluctantly; and HaL hl» mouth near the faintly fragrant thicket of half-curia whispered "What?" She turned her head to look at his lips, then up at his eyes, her looking Intimate, expectant; then she stood away from him and returned to the fading colors of the western sky. “Beauty—" she said; “beauty to last forever, tn a few minutes" He pressed, her hand before he let It go. watching her. “1 s’pose while we O < A Jr She Gay* Her Soft Laugh and Relaxed Against HaL can find the way we'd better go back." he said. “Some day, we’ll never bare to. go back." With a limber bending of her body, she picked up her hat, and It swung between them In her hand as they started down. It wasn't cool, but Kerrigan was arranging brush and a few desiccated fence posts for a Are when they came to the car. “Hl there." he said comfortably, as If they had kept house together for a long time. “Got the sun put away all right?" "Yes,” said HaL “Very prettily, too. What’s the tire for? Goin* to have a blizzard?" “No." said Kerrigan. “Just like to attract attention." “Haven't seen any to attract.” said Hal. “But you know your publicity out here better than I do." There was a pleasant murmur of welcome as Barry got Into the car where the others still waited. Hal, with a strange, assured feeling of peace him, looked up at the first cleartTding stars and breathed his chest slowly full “Lord, it’s good." he said to Kerrigan. "You should've told roe I'd like Wyoming." With the star-scattered night complete and the fire going, they made a thin supper from Mrs. Pulsipher's oranges, the popcorn which she ordered John to uncache, and some agglomerated fruit-drops from a bug in Kerrigan's pocket. The atmosphere was subdued, quiet, the voices not quite tentative but variously res;»ectful. as if some one were asleep nearby. And each time John, after a silence, wondered where that Mr. Crack was, Hal felt the peace upon his blood freshly —a peace assured of strength, of Barry's nearness, and of his final coming to her—after the term of his promise. Those In the car got out to stretch and stroll briefly and look up Into the night; and past ten. when John gave a yawn that echoed In the shameless cavern of his mouth, Mrs. Pulsipher suggested sleep. She and Sister Anastasia disposed themselves In the back seat, while John cramped his gaunt lankiness In the front and Barry, HaL and Kerrigan sat along the running board, watching the fire and talking. “Listen," said Barry suddenly. Interrupting her own speech. Doc raised his head for a grunt, sniffing. "There comes somebody.” They listened. A coyote—the pate, pretty ghost of a guilty dog—passed on the edge of the gloom beyond the fire, and Barry’s hand came to rest .on HaTs knee. “It is —tebafly,* Kerrigan muttered tn a moment, looking at his watch. “He's been long enough. It’s eleven." Impulsively Bal mN. “ITa not

Crack," and wondered why he was so coolly sure. Barry looked around at him slowly, solemnly. "How d’you know?" she said. Hal moved a little inside his clothes. “Doesn’t feel like him." he said. He gave a short, uneasy laugh of deprecation. The footfalls—made by heavy, stiffsoled shoes—brought their slovenly beat nearer and stopped. Hal got up and walked around the ear. A broad glow, as from a white and dlstankflre, was spread in the east where the moon would come, but he could see no one down the road. “Evening," he called Into the dark. “Evenin’, evenin’," came a cracked voice after an IntervaL “You the folks got the fire? I seen It from away back and come to see what on." He clumped up to the Are —a tall, ratty man. no hat on his tangled hair, shirt dirtily open at his throat, bluejeans cut off about three inches above the tops of his veteran cow-boots. His grinning lips were stained at the corners and his bright, empty eyes watched the Are, not any of the three who were near it “You folks stranded, ’ey?" he said cheerily in a minute. “Ldoks it,” said Kerrigan. “I run Into some folks last year was stranded.” be said. “Over t’other side. Seems like I'm always runnin’ Into folks that's stranded." He grinned happily at the Are. “Didn’t see a fella go out to the highway and get a lift Into town, did you?" Hal said. “Late this afternoon?" "To what town?” the man said absently. “Any town,” said HaL “No;” said the man. “Last week I seen a feller get a lift out on the road. Goin' west, he was. But I mind these other folks was stranded there—over t'other side. I come on one of ’em drinkin’ water out of a little crick we got 1 says to him, ’How’s It taste?' an' he says *Good.’ an’ I says. That’s good, I’m glad t’know an’ he says, ’Why?’ an’ I told him why." He laughed silently without looking at any of them. "Why?" said Barry In calm Interest. “’Cause 1 found one o’ my sheep lyin’ drownded Puttier up the crick where he was drinkin’, an’ I wanted t’know how it tasted.” "Did you tell him that?" said Kerrigan. “I told him." said the man. "He didn't like it." “You're a sheepherder," said Kerri- . gan. "I am." said the man, with a quick nod of pride. “Only I ain’t jus’ now. I been fired.” He nodded again, his stained mouth open. “I live over t’other side there In the shed by the Old South Corral. An’ when I feel like It some day. I’ll tear It down." “Why’ll you tear It down?*' said Kerrigan. "Ifll make ’em sore." said the man. “You can have anything you want up there. If you want to tear the shack down. I’ll help you." “That’s mighty nice of you," said Kerrigan, "but I guess we’ll just sit here for a while." The man watched the fire a little longer. Then be turned and grinned at Kerrigan and said, “Well, I guess I'd ought a get back. Moon’s, comln’ up." "Well, good night to you," said Kerrigan. “Good night." said the man, and abruptly started clumping away again. The late moon floated up clear and brilliant to pale the stars with Its grayblue dusk, and they moved from the runni«*pboard, nearer the Are, to watch that bright drifting. “You're at liberty." Kerrigan said to Barry, “to lean against my friend Ireland and have • nap.” She gave her soft laugh and relaxed against HaL as if she'd been waiting for Kerrigan’s permission. Her hair touched his cheek as she settled her head to his shoulder; she looked up at him in sleepy comfort, saying: “Too heavy?" then pressed closer to him and closed her eyes. And in the naturalness of that. Hal was near believing he had dreamt the obstacles to their united fortune: her trapped allegiapce to that man. that busband, was too grotesque a sacrilege. The slow* moon marked the moving of the night across the sky; and Hal and Kerrigan sat together In it, by Barry’s sleeping—kept silences that were broken only by the soft settling sound of the fire, or murmured of things not so much satisfying in themselves as In the fact that they spoke of them here. Every so often Hal looked down st Barry's face—her dark lashes laid in a little radiant fringe on each smooth cheek, her vital lips at rest together, her breathing gentle and oblivious of care. And once when Kerrigan hap pened to glance at him as he looked up, they smiled at each other as If she somehow belonged to both of them. (TO BE CONT IXU ED) Th* First Waits Walts did not come into existence In a haphazard manner. In ancient times they bad a definite function to perform, and they were all stalwart minstrels attached to the court of the king. Their duties consisted of tramping the streets at night, keeping law and order, and proclaiming the time at certain intervals. Later they developed into windinstrument players and until one hundred years ago bad an official standing in London. It was the custom for swains to engage waits to serenade their lady-loves at night, on payment of a toe, but eventually they complained of teas of steep and the practice was abolished. At one time the custom was so established that there was always music In one street or anntimr CrX 1 to 4 . m—Tte-Rtta Msra.tnw ireM i to s a. m.—nt-oiis Magazine.

SYRACUSE JOURNAL,

Little Lights on i LIVING By MARIA LEONARD Dean of Women, University of Illinois Western Newspaper Union. TREES JOYCE KILMER—who died In action August, 1916. has Immortalized himself by the following verse: I think that I shall never see # A poem ns lovely as * tree. A tree whose hungry mouth Is wrest Against th- earth's sweet flowing breast. A tree that looks nt God all day. And lifts her leafy arms to pray; A tree that may in summer wear A nest of robins In her hair; Upon whose bosom snow has lain Who Intimately lives with rain. Poems are made by fools like me. But only God can make a-tree. Have you e%er considered the individuality of trees—the most kingly of plants? They have personalities as fascinating to study as human beings. We find the age old Cypress trees throughout the ancient hills of Italy, straight, dark and uncommunicative, symbolizing death and its mystery In the poet’s mind. “Woe to him who never sees, the stars shine through his Cypress trees’" Then in contrast we see the spreading and hospitable branches of the glorious Elm. We rejoice in the refinement and culture of the beautiful Maple, in the steadfastness of the sturdy Oak! We wonder at the exquisite delicacy of the white barked Birch that thrives so often near, and in such contrast to, the physical endurance of the hardy Pines. Trees are living creatures. The man who has no special tree friends Is Indeed a lonely creature. President Coolidge first Instituted "Forest Protection Week,” bringing to the American conscience the fact that the tree life of our country must lie spared If we wish to safeguard America’s natural resources. Forests prevent floods, they make the soil fertile by holding moisture. Think what trees have done for civilization, giving work to thousands; they have made possible the building of homes, and have fur-* thered man’s Intercourse through railroads and ship building. The third and fourth lines of the beautiful poem above recall what a , scientist once told me. Some of our , largest forest trees have the life giving power of lifting 66 gallons of water daily 5 from Mother Earth into their branches. The boy and girl scout movement of America is teaching our youth to love trees. When this becomes universal, no more will selfish lumber corporations, with pecuniary* Interests, be allowed to cut down the marveKis Redwoods of California, as old as the time of Christ. No, these belong to the ages, an inheritance of posterity, no one generation owns them. ♦- ♦ • PATRIOTISM OF PEACE A FEW j ears ago it was my privilege to travel in Palestine. I had always read of the Palestinian shepherds, had seen them on canvas through the artist’s eyes, and most of all remembered my mother's interpretation of the Twenty-third Psalm of David, who after a life of battles ahd war, loved to recall the peace of bls boy hood shepherd days. Anyone who has seen Palestine’s rocky, dry and treeless horizon, except sos a few pale green olive trees, can appreciate more what David meant when be said “He maketh me to Ue down in green pastures, he leadeth me beside the still waters." Ordinarily there were no green pastures nor still waters, for the craiglike steep mountains and rushing streams forbade such quietude in Palestine. Calm and secluded spots, however, are made at certain days’ travel for shepherds and sheep, hollowed water basins and small level green pasturages. At each quiet pool one finds a vessel the size of a barrel sunk in the ground and filled with olive oil, beside it a cup. After coming over precipitous mountainous trails through thorns and - briars, the. kindly shepherd always cared for the wounded sheep with the healing olive oiL The Psalmist meant this when he said: “Thou anointest my head with oiL my cup runneth over." Our guide through Palestine was a very highly educated native of Jerusalem. He had traveled in this country and had-written extensively for magazines. I asked him if he would stop our car when we met the first shepherd on the road. This he promised to do. While we were riding he told this story. As there was extreme poverty tn Palestine, many times the people had scarcely enough to eat Palestine’s main Industry was sheep raising. They take great pride In their flocks, which are Angora. They have great bushy tails that usually reach the ground. This special breed of sheep has been Palestine's special ilvelihcxxl. a foreigner one day came to Palestine to buy a sheep in order to obtain this breed. He offered a shepherd what seemed a fabulous sum. Strangely enough the foreigner was refused. “If I were to accept this price," the shepherd told him. T might profit but what would iny poor countrymen do. If 1 were to let our Angora sheep go to another country. I cannot do It—l would be selling my country’s birthright—W would be a betrayaL" So the sheep was not sold. Crowded Out by Insects By far the largest part of the earth’s hutnan population has been crowded out of the most productive part of the earth’s surface, the tropics, chiefly because Insects have taken that region for themselves. And even in the less desirable regiota we are forced to fight • constant battle for existent against them. Iran and Iraq Iran and Iraq are the official names respectively for Perria and Mesopotamia.

CROSS-STITCH QUILT BLOCKS By GRANDMOTHER CLARK r; T, |n i iinß—a« r dr-L VW —— ■ ••*'***»««****••* (o, Oif f — An* » k'XC'-i P<OT Cross-stitch is about ttie simplest tldng In handwork. Little girls make their stitches in cross-stitch. These six inch bltH-ks are stamped in cross stitch designs on white muslin and little girls to grandmothers will en joy making them into everything from small doilies to pillow tops, scarfs and bedspreads. Easy to car ry around, working one at a time and then assembling Into article wantec when all the squares are finished Outfit No. 46-4 consists of 6 01 these sixdnch stamped squares and will be mailed to you for 1U cents. Address Home Craft Co, Dept A Nineteenth and SL Louis Ave., St Louis. Mo. - Inclose stamped, addressed enve lope for reply when writing for any information. Mayflower Became Barn, Says Retired Sea Captain Historians have long tried to learn what became of the Mayflower, the ship that carried the Pilgrim fathers to America. An old retired sea cap tain, Henry D. Smith, of Atlantic City, declares that on a trip to London years ago. he learned of a tradition believed to be true that the old ship came to an Ignominious eml. After being tied up at Plymouth Rock a long time, serving no useful purp'ose. farmers of the struggling colony dismantled it and pulled the hull ashore. Doors were cut into its sides and it served as a stock barn for their cattle and pigs. What a shrine this old vessel would be now had It been preserved. ! Also it would make it possible to cheek on its capacity, which, judged I from the number of persons who came over in it purportedly, must have been unusually large for a ship of that time. New Cotton Use Found Consumer packings of bulky farm products — potatoes, citrus fruits, onions—is providing an important new outlet for cotton. The Department of Agriculture estimates that more than i0.000.otM) cotton bags were used for consumer packages of potatoes alone last year.

MARY CHECKS OUT

“S r——— ASK HIM |F\; 70011 MJE IO ? HE’D LIKE A \ I m I WAir A MWUTE ( CVPOF COFFEe loiaxlaU •- ICAW ' Tee t/-KWNifIC J evGßwiaeG /( back of his j ' Of * ce Jr * lx r I 0 ? $ I / liowyou ß6 NOT Yfl/oF I Fseuwe WELL, BUT. Cw/SHOULD | NOT. 1 | DIDNTW DOCTOR TElt COFFEE I AIWTiON fl I YOU Give UP COFFEE NEVER AID SUCH f I ANOSWIItH 10 POSTUM7JHURT M6!J\TRiPG [why IS MARY I£AMN&? ¥oH,DKWTSHETELLi g SWCS SHE SWUUiEDio l YOU? SHE’S £L*6A6€P I 0 POSW SHE’S BE6A/OUR gID MARK/YOUNG Mi?. I 1 MOST POPULAR WAHRESS’I JWWS WHO COMES I | j —ipj N here evae/oAy.J -AV

JACK IS NEEDED IN PRESENT DAY, SAYS AUTHORITY A jack of all trades has usually been considered a handy fellow to have around. But it is the fashion to consider that such a general facility implies a lack of particular expertness, or to express it in simpler Anglo-Saxon, "jack of all trades; master of none.” Now sj»eaks up a vocational expert to protest at this belittling of Jack, in these days of hazardous employment and drastic occupational changes resulting from the rapid advance of the machine, the jack of all trades Is needed, says Prof. Harry D. Kitsun of Teachers college, Columbia. Even If Jack is master of no trade, he Is much more master of lite own destiny than the one-occupa--tlon man. Therefore, says Doctor Kitson. today's vocational guidance effort should endeavor at all costs “to avoid giving young people the , obsession tnat they are created for one occupation.” This, unfortunately, seems to be one result of relying too heavily on the aptitude tests and other methods of gauging ability which have been devised in great detail by the vocational guidance experts. Such tests have value; but they also have limitations. Doctor Kitson, dhe judges, is an expert with a saving seuse of reasonableness. He recognizes there is a danger of not being able to see the woods for the trees. The jack of all trades was sup posed to be an outstanding human product of the pioneer days. He who alone, or with a small Isolated group, was battling the old frontier, bad to be a jack all trades. And sometimes he was master of several. it is surprising ’now to see the modern industrial setup, the antithesis of the frontier, demanding the same qualifications. Unwieldy People could get what they want in politics if they didn’t have to con sider the different Interests of five or six sections of an enormous nation.

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THURSDAY, OCTOBER 17, 1935.

FORTUNE EXTREMES Extremes of fortune are true wi* dom’s test.

IT’S NOT IN MANYJEREALS • Nothing anyone eats is more important than Vitamin B—the vitamin for keeping fit. Yet it isn't in many cereals, when cereals are supposed to be our best source of this food element. Many are nervous, poor in appetite, system out of order, because their daily diets lack enough of the precious Vita* min B for keeping fit. Few things keep them back like a lack of this protective food element. So give everyone Quaker Oats every morning. Because in addition to its generous supply of Vitamin B for keeping fit, it furnishes food-energy, muscle and body-building ingredients. For about Jjc per dish. Start serving it tomorrow for a 2-weds test. Quaker Oats has a wholesome, nutlike, luscious appeal to the appetite. Flavory, surpassingly good. AU grocca supply it IN VITAMIN B FOR KEEPING FIT. . . - 1c worth off Quaker Oats 3cak®sofFreskY«Mt yy — Qeairir awd MsMiar*» Oats are th* ss—