Walkerton Independent, Volume 66, Number 52, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 12 October 1939 — Page 2

■ ——■ I CHILD OF EVIL By OCTAVUS ROY COHEN . O OCTAVUS ROY COHEN —WNU SERVICE

THE STORY SO FAR Beautiful, young Kay Forrest has been employed by Christine Maynard, photographer, to pose for a series of pictures, the background of which will be exquisite Cathedral Gardens, famous Southern resort. Unknown to them, one Jeff Butler, mean, unscrupulous “swamp angel,” has led a friend to spy on the two women. Kay, of necessity, is scantily clad while posing for the camera studies. Kay frequently stays with Mrs. Ruth Hamilton, her son Barney, of whom Kay is very fond, and her daughter Margaret. Mrs. Hamilton, a remarkable woman, conceived the idea of the Gardens following the death of her husband. One night, after a local dance, Kirk Reynolds, a ne’er-do-well gambler of Beverly, a resort town, and Kay go for a ride, Kirk’s car collides with that of Harvey Jackson, and during the ensuing argument Kirk whips out a gun and kills the young, popular engineer. Kay is completely stunned by the tragedy. Kirk threatens to drag her into the thing if she tells even her father. Terror-stricken, she agrees to remain silent. However, the next time she goes out with Barney, he realizes something is wrong. She tells himyothing. Mrs. Emma Forrest. Kay’s mother, is firm, positive and demanding. Het father is exactly the opposite, kindly, and unassuming While at home Kirk Reynolds calls for her. and she is forced to go with him despite her family's protests. He tells her the circumstances make it necessary for her to marry him so she cannot be forced to testify against him if he is accused of Jackson’s murder. They drive to a neighboring town and are married. The next time they are together Kay tells Barney she loves him. but is married to Reynolds. She refuses to tell him why she married the gambler, but he promises to try to understand. Meanwhile. Miss Sonia (“Babe”) Henkel. Beverly beauty operator of questionable morals, and intimate friend of Kirk Reynolds? berates him for marrying Kay.

CHAPTER V—Continued —7— Babe was thinking aloud. “So you did kill Harvey Jackson.” He spoke acidly. “Pipe down on that.” “She was with you that night.” “What of it?” “Plenty. Now get this. Kirk, and get it straight. I don’t give a hang what you do with other women, but when you throw the harpoon into me, I get sore.” “So what?” “So plenty. I know why you married this girl. And there are some things I’m not standing for. This is one of them.” “You’re not threatening me, I hope.” “Take it any way you want. Where is she now?” “None of your business. It just happens I don’t mind telling you that she went out to the Gardens with that Hamilton kid.” “Making you look sappy, eh?” Her voice cut into him. He shrugged. “If that doesn't suit you—” “It suits me all right. What doesn’t suit me is that you didn’t tell me what you had up your sleeve.” “Since when did I start shooting off my mouth to you? Now grab this, Babe, I’m in a tough spot, and you might as well know it.” “Okay.” “In this State,” he said flatly, “a wife cannot be made to testify against her nusband.” She said, “You did kill him, didn’t you?” “I’m telling you for the last time: Lay off that! I’m not talkin’ to anybody, see, not even you.” 4 Td like to help ...” “Then keep your trap closed. I’m saying nothing. Let the saps talk if they want. But don’t you join in the chorus.” He looked up at her. “And don’t go soft on me.” “I won’t. I’ve played around with you a pretty long time, you know.” “Yeh, I know. You’re on the level . . . and I’m glad you’re not doing a run-out. Though if you feel that way—go to it.” She said, “I don’t though. It’s just that this marriage of yours ain’t easy to swallow all of a sudden. Also, w’hether you like it or not. I don’t enjoy the idea of you being in a jam.” He took her hand with what was, for him, a great demonstration of affection. “You’re not so bad yourself, Babe. So snap out of it.” “I will.” She waved and went out the door. “So he ditches me for a country kid.” Her fists clenched. “Well, he can't get away with it.” CHAPTER VI The Lotus Gardens were nearing completion. It was understood that they would be ready for the public as soon as the azalea season had passed its peak. More reclaimed swamp, greater and more bewildering beauty. More tourists. Business men were delighted, non-busi-ness persons didn't quite know how i to accept it . . . and godly souls I who lived in the very rural districts j considered it a disgrace. Country I preachers declaimed against this imported iniquity from the pulpits of j cross-roads churches, hands were held high in horror, the name of the Devil was bandied freely and with unction. And—town and country alike—the people pointed unwaveringly at what had occurred since ■ the completion of Ruth Hamilton’s scheme to beautify ugly swampland and at the same time earn a fair income for herself and her two chil- : dren. There had been, for instance, the ■ murder of Harvey Jackson on a lonely country road. The Harvey Jackson Mystery. It was called that at supper-tables, at club-meetings, at church socials. It was thus dubbed in front-yard con- ‘ versations and at gathering places like the Fair Play Store and the Bon Ton Poo! Room. It was denounced as a shame and disgrace, and the public inquired frequently and vehemently why Gabe Dixon didn't do something about it Mr. Dixon was Solicitor of the Seventh Judicial Circuit, of which Beauregard County was a part. He was a resident of the town of Beverly: a man who was tall, lean and nervous. He had misty, shifty eyes and large, restless fingers and feet. He was addicted to stiff white collars and ridiculous little white washties. In times of stress his emotional reactions were betrayed by an excited bobbing of his collar button beneath a prominent Adam’s apple. He was a keen politician and a i member of a family which con trolled at least half the votes in Beauregard County. He was shrewd, keen and < on .« > tntious , . . whenever and wi > i< -.« r - not >

ed to deprive him of votes. In a court-room, his very awkwardness made him effective, and he held the reins of office tightly, doing the major portion of his job with astonishing efficiency. For instance, he was genuinely anxious to find and convict the killer of Harvey Jackson. That, he felt, would be an excellent move. Harvey Jackson had been one of the most popular young men in Beverly, son of ultra-respectable middle-class parents, an able young engineer and a man highly regarded by maidens and others. And because Mr. Dixon was sincere in his desire to convict, he—at first—said nothing about the odd little compact which had been found on the road beside Harvey Jackson’s dead body. Os course, the whole town knew about the compact, and discussed it avidly. The man who had found it failed to keep i the secret. Solicitor Dixon investigated shrewdly, endeavoring to make sound evidence of that compact. He learned that it possibly belonged to Katherine Forrest—daughter of Andrew Forrest. He couldn’t prove it, of course—not then—because he understood that it was a type of compact which could be purchased in any of several New York cosmetic shops; the sort of compact that touring ladies might have carried. Then he discovered that on the night of- - Jackson’s demise. Kay Forrest had gone riding with Kirk Rey- ' nolds. The evidence was still too I circumstantial, but it indicated sev- j eral things to Mr. Dixon. He believed that Reynolds had killed Jackson and that Kay Forrest had witnessed the affair. Beverly's hard common sense, plus verbose interpretation by Solicitor Dixon, gave a fairly proper picture of the tragedy. Mr. Dixon was quizzed. “You reckon Kirk Reynolds killed him. Gabe?” “He might have.” “Then why don’t you have him arrested?” “No chance of convictin’ him. Not on what we’ve got.” “You knew all the time that was Kay Forrest’s compact. Why didn’t you light on him befo’?” “Lots of gadgets like that. Any of these tourists might have lost one similar.” “But you could have tried him, i couldn’t you?” “That wouldn’t have been smart. He’d have been acquitted, and then he couldn’t be touched again.” “Well”—with a hopeless gesture—- “ Look what he's done now. He’s gone and married her.” “He sho’ has. And I cain’t make i I her testify against him. Smart boy, ! this Reynolds.” “Smarter’n you, eh. Gabe?” Mr. Dixon was unperturbed. “No-o, I wouldn’t be sayin’ that. This here I marriage—with them not even livin' i together—tells us plenty. It's just J about the same as sayin’ that Kirk . killed Jackson and Kay Forrest saw j him do it. They might’s well have I advertised in the Gazette. And lis- j ten, when you know a man has done I a crime, when you know' it. mind j Vbu, it’s just a question of time be- | fo’ you git the evidence to convict i him with.” • • • Cathedral Gardens was bathed in ; silver glow. Moonlight limned the ■ old house sympathetically. A sign, tacked to a pine at the entrance to the Gardens, announced that inasmuch as this was the last night of the full moon, no tourists would be admitted on succeeding days after seven o’clock. A young man and a girl left the I house and walked toward the water. I The young man was tall and straight and broad of shoulder. He walked slowly and gazed through the al- ’ most unearthly beauty of the Gari dens with pardonable pride. Jim Owenby, landscape engineer, had designed and built Cathedral j Gardens. To a Beverly man had been given the distinction of having created this beauty spot. Working from Mrs. Hamilton’s original idea, fired by youthful ambition and possessing great technical skill, he had ! planned and supervised. Margaret Hamilton was young, slender and unobtrusively beautiful. Her hair was ash-blond, and she wore it close against her small, perfectly shaped head. Her eyes j were gray, like those of her brother. At the moment they were soft and gentle, perhaps because her hand rested confidently on the muscular arm of the young man at her side. He helped her into a little bateau which was tied informally to a | stake. He seated him self beside her, । and handed her a paddle. “We’ll both have to navigate this craft,” he said lightly. “Unless you want me to sit in the back ” A boat came out of the darkness and purled gently past thorn. A , , woman’* voice, tri

for the things that might have been, came to their ears. The voice said, “Did you see that young couple? It must be wonderful to be young—and to be here in the moonlight.” Margaret Hamilton touched the hand of the young man. The place was overpowering in its beauty. Unbelievable. Tiny islands, flaming with blossoms, seemed vague and unreal. There were no dimensions. Jim Owenby propelled the little craft into a sheltered bayou. Here they were sheltered by a midnight blackness, and his arms went about the girl. He said nothing. He did not kiss her. Here was a communion which transcended the desire for demonstration and caresses, and if their bodies were vitally alive—if they were acutely conscious of each other—that was because they were j very young and very much in love. And then he said, gently, “I thought we could talk out here . . .” “I understand. Let’s go back, be- ' cause we must talk.” They found a seat in an arbor which was mantled with wisteria. 1 and Margaret said. “Now we can j talk.” He took her hand “It’s about Kay Forrest,” he said Margaret nodded. “I knew that." ' “I’m sorry for her. Sorry as hell.” । “So are we all.” Jim Owenby hesitated. “I’ve al- j ways known Kay. Since she was a kid. She’s pretty swell.” “Barney thinks so.” “Well, he’s right.” Jim changed j the subject slightly. “You know, j Barney has stuff I didn’t think he I had. I thought he’d go under when wj iniiii ■ j BWw i : A 4S V i A young man and a girl left the house. Kay married this Reynolds . . . but ! during the past week he's been tak- j ing it on the chin like a man.” She nodded. “We've been watch- j ing him, too. Mother and I. It's tough on him, but perhaps it’s what I he needed. A sort of tempering of the steel that we know is in him. I'm terribly sorry for him.” Jim shook his head. “Why did ' Kay marry Kirk Reynolds?” Margaret said, “You tell me." “Right . . . and I'll only be tell- । ing you what everybody in Beverly i is saying. She was forced to marry | him so that she couldn't testify I against him if he happened to be i tried for Harvey Jackson’s mur- i der.” “Os course.” “She was with Reynolds that I night. She saw what happened.” “Do you blame her for being ’ afraid of him?” “No. She’s just a kid. And to ■ see a murder . . . She’s in a rotten ■ spot, but that doesn’t alter the fact i that —unless we’re wrong about ev- j erything—Kirk Reynolds murdered Harvey, and Harvey was my best ; friend.” “I see . . . And so?” “And so,” he said bitterly, “I can’t let matters stand where they are. I want to talk to Kay—want to see if she’ll tell me the truth.” Margaret pressed his hand. She said quickly, “You mustn’t.” “Why?” “It isn’t fair. Kay came here to get away from the nasty gossip in Beverly. She’s our guest ...” I “But suppose she knew that she ! was going to be protected?” “She couldn’t know that. She’d only know that you’d be willing to i do your best.” He said gravely, “In this State a I woman may testify against her hus- j band. The law merely says that she cannot be compelled to.” “You mustn’t, Jim.” “But I must.” “Why?” “Because Harvey was my best j friend, that’s reason number one. Secondly, I'm fond of Kay.” Margaret was staring off into the I night. She hoped that her voice was steady. “Suppose you knew that Kirk killed Harvey. What wc^dd you do?” ‘ I’m not sure.” He paused briefly. Then, “Listen, dear—and try to understand. A man can’t just sit back and do nothing. I can’t . . . and neither can Barney.” “Barney?” “Os course. He’s all shot by this ' marriage of Kay’s.” “You and Barney have been dis- I cussing it, haven’t you?” “Os course. As a matter of fact, ; we haven't talked about much else.” , “And so?” we feel like a couple of prime

saps. Or perhaps that sounds more flippant than I intend. What I’m driving at is that—for everybody’s sake—we don’t intend to let Reynolds get away with this.” “You know he's dangerous.” “What of it?” “This, Jim . . . and I'm trying not to be selfish. The past few years haven’t been easy for us. You didn’t know Dad —so you can’t understand what his death really meant. Then the financial collapse and the sympathy of our friends—which was the wrong kind of sympathy. And Mother’s worry over Barney which led to our coming down here so he could get away from wealthy friends who were too kind.” She paused and he touched her hand reassuringly. “I know Plenty tough sledding.” I “It is. Beverly has done a lot for J all of us. I’ve been happy—maybe I becattse I found you. But whatever I the cause. I’m jealous of my happiness. I don’t want it destroyed.” CHAPTER VII Barney said, “I’m proud of you, , Kay. My mother is proud of you. i Margaret is proud of you. The cook I is proud of you.” Kay laughed in spite of herself. “The third waffle?” she inquired. “Plus grits and shrimp and what I have you.” The girl rose from the breakfast--1 table and joined Mrs. Hamilton on ; the veranda. The morning was bril- ' liant; pleasantly cool and crystal clear. Dozens of tiny bateaus were waiting patiently for passengers, and already several could be seen nosing quietly through the placid lagoons. Barney came from the house and joined his mother and Kay. Kay looked up into the clean-cut, i boyish face “Going into town?” । she asked. “Needs must. Heavy business.” There was a shadow of apprej hension in her eyes. “Shopping?” “Yes. For Mother.” Strong fin- ’ i gers closed about her arm. “And j that's all. Chica My word of honor.” Kay followed him into the hou<e ' leaving Mrs Hamilton alone on the A bateau approached the shore, I navigating an eccentric course. In the double, high-backed seat amidships. Mrs. Hamilton saw an elderly I couple, and even at this distance it i was apparent that the woman was more than a trifle nervous. The boatman was white, a long, angular individual who puddled the little craft I viciously, to the further discomfort of his passengers. Mrs. Hamilton recognized the man. Jeff Butler, she remembered—and she had never liked him. He had seemed a suli len and resentful person. She knew । instinctively’ that something was j wrong, and this suspicion became : certainty when Jeff drove the nose I of the boat far up on the sloping j bank with a last powerful stroke of i his paddle. Mrs. Hamilton rose to greet them. I “Anything wrong?” she inquired. “Yes.” The man '•poke in a high, j excited voice. “Who's in charge I around here?” “I am. Why?” "That fellow who had us in his | boat ...” He gestured toward the | lagoon. “He was drunk.” Ruth Hamilton’s eyes narrowed. ! “I'm terribly sorry ...” “I was so frightened,” interjected the little woman. “I didn’t know j what was going to happen. I thought every minute he might drown us.” I “That wouldn't be likely. The water is very shallow in most places. ; But that doesn't rectify matters. Sit ' down ...” She designated chairs, i “Tell me just what happened.” “He acted queer right from the \ beginning. And when we got into ■ the boat, he was ugly—” “ —And insulting, wasn’t he. Ar- I thur?” “Quite. He kept paddling us, fr^t, । when we wanted to stop and look at j things. He wouldn't do what we j wanted—” “And he had liquor on his breath.” “Then he got very angry’ when we told him to bring us in. Now, we’re not complaining . . .” “But you have every right to com- 1 plain. I know' the man and I don’t like him. I’m glad of this definite excuse to let him go.” The woman softened. “We don’t want anybody to lose his job . . .” (TO HE CONTINUED) France’s St. Clodawald Loses Historical Charm To the little town of St. Cloda- ‘ wald in France, or St. Cloud as it is called today, there once came all the grandeur of royalty to gorgeous fetes; today there comes only memories, even tourists pass it by, forI getful of, the marvel of the past. With the destruction of its cele- | brated chateau, built by Louis XIV ! in 1660, it lost a favorite royal residence, which had witnessed many ’ a notable event. Here the Regent i d’Orleans received Peter the Great in 1717. In 1785 it was sold for 6,000,000 francs to Queen Marie Antoinette, and here she resided during the early days of the Revolution. Here the coup d’etat occurred which made Napoleon first consul and here Napoleon 111 was baptized in 1805 in the presence of Napoleon ; and Josephine. Here Bonaparte : married Marie Louise, and here the ' allied sovereigns met after the fall ' of the first empire and here Blucher, I booted and spurred, slept in Napo- । Icon’s bed, and here on October 13, I ' 1870, it went up in flames in connec- I tion with the siege of Paris.

Walkerton Independent Published ETerv Thursday hv THE INDEPENDENT-NEWS CO. Publishers of the WALKERTON INDEPI bDI N I NORTH LIBERTY NEWS THE ST. JOSEPH COUNTY WEEKLII Clem DeCoudres, Business Maiu«Ker Charles M. Finch. Editor SUBSCRIPTION RATES One Year Six Months .uu Three Months TERMS IN ADVANCE Entered at the post ofHee at Walkert .ri Ind., as second-class matter. Speaking of Sports Brown Bomber W ell on \\ ay to Second Million By ROBERT McSHANE L-I EAVYWEIGHT Champion Joe 11 Louis, the lad who has been forced through lack of opponents to fight has-beens and second-raters since winning the crown from Jimmy Braddock tn 1937, is well on his ' way to the financial heights attained by Jack Dempsey and Gene Tunney. The Brown Bomber, a Golden Gloves champion, turned professional in 1931. Since that time he has earned a grand total of 51.669.722 by knocking out 37 opponents, gaining decisions over 6. and being knocked out by one. Jack Dempsey still has a comfortable lead m all-time ring earnings, however. The Manassa Mauler !<<<'< LIGHTNING JOE LOVIS earned the amazing total of $2,712.079 in nine fights, thus completely dimming Louis’ record. Record earnings are worth listing. Presentday conditions are not conducive to $1,000,000 gates, but as a means of comparison here are the totals as comp ad by Frank G. Menke, an ures represent Dempsey’s cut of i the receipts for nine battles ) Year Opponent Total 1919 Jess Willard $ 27.500 1920 Billy Miske 55.000 1920 Bill Brennan 100,000 1921 Geo. Carpentier 300,000 1 )23 Tom Gibbons 265.000 1923 Luis Firpo 470.000 1926 Gene Tunney 718,888 1927 Jack Sharkey 350,711 1927 Gene Tunney 425,000 Total 52,712,079 It must be remembered that Dempsey’s era was the halycon days of boxing. On September 22, 1927, the Tunney-Dempsey bout in Chicago drew an attendance of 104.943 people who paid $2,658,660 at JACK DEMPSEY the box office. Louis’ biggest share of any gate amounted to $349,228, when he knocked out Schmeling. Tunney Retires Gene Tunney earned 51.715.000 in the ring. His fortune was made in the short space of three years, dating from his first victory over Dempsey in 1926 until he retired in 1928. Tunney won the championship i from Dempsey in Philadelphia, September 23, 1926, on a 10-round decii sion. He gave Dempsey a return match in 1927 and retained his I crown by again winning a 10-round ' decision. On July 21. 1928, Tunney scored a technical knockout over i Tom Heeney, an Australian fighter, I and announced his retirement. It is extremely unlikely that Louis will ever reach Dempsey’s all-time total. Dempsey’s huge income was increased by his personality. One of boxing’s most colorful characters, he commanded big prices for exhibition tours and from all extracurricular activities. Louis can’t do that. He hasn't the showmanship and perhaps the inclination. On April 1, 1938, after he had an- ■ nexed the heavyweight crown, Louis earned $16,659 by knocking out Harry Thomas in the fifth round. There’s more than one reason for such a small championship purse. , To begin with, money isn't as plentiful as it was back in the twenties. I Perhaps the major reason is that j Louis hasn't had a good match for far too long.

^Household News aft Coffee and waffles are star performers for Sunday breakfast. See Recipe Below.

At the Sound of the Breakfast Bell Five mornings a week there s a last-minute scramble to get to school on time, and a mad dash to beat the boss to the office—and too frequently the all-important business of eating breakfast is neglect-

ed. Maybe the breakfast menu needs revising, or needs a “beauty treatment" to increase its appetite appeal. If all homemakers would join

forces to raise the standard of American breakfasts, it would be a long step in the direction of happiness and well being for the family. Breakfast needn't be elaborate to be good, but it should consist of foods well chosen and well prepared to tempt the appetites of members of the family who aren't ordinarily interested in this first meal of the day. Serving something new, occasion- : ally, is a more effective means of I getting the laggards out of bed than the loudest alarm clock! Bacon With Apple Rings. 7 slices bacon 1 egg (slightly beaten with 1 table- ' spoon cold water) White corn meal 3 apples (peeled and cut in ’^-inch l round slices) , 1 teaspoon pov.dered sugar 1: z teaspoon cinnamon Juice of 1 lemon Melt sufficient bacon fat to cover the bottom of a skillet. Cut bacon ■ strips in halves, dip in beaten egg, * then dip in corn meal. Saute gently I m the bacon fat until each strip is a i golden brown. Place apple slices in j a mixture of the lemon juice, sugar, I and cinnamon for a few minutes. I Drain the apple slices, without dry- ! ing, and saute in the remaining fat. Place bacon strips in the center of a I warmed platter and arrange around it the browned apple rings. Hominy Grits With Baked Eggs. (Serves 4-6) 3 cups freshly cooked grits 5 to 6 eggs Salt, pepper and paprika l 2 cup cheese (grated) Fill a shallow baking pan with the cooked grits. With a spoon make

hollows or wells in the grits. Drop a fresh egg into । each hollow. ; Sprinkle w'ith j salt, pepper, pai prika and grated : cheese. Bake m a

moderately hot oven (375 degrees) for 20 to 25 minutes. Quick Butterscotch Rolls. 2 cups Hour 2 teaspoons baking powder *2 teaspoon salt r 4 cup shortening a 4 cup milk Melted butter 1 cup light brown sugar r 4 cup butter % cup pecan nut meats Sift flour, baking powder and salt. Cut in shortening and add milk. Roll out and brush with melted butter. Sprinkle with ’3 cup brown sugar. Roll firmly like a jelly roll. Cream I together the remaining 2 3 cup of I sugar and cup butter. Spread this mixture, together with the pecan nutmeats, over bottom of baking pan. Slice biscuit roll in ^2-inch slices and place cut side up in the butter-sugar-nut mixture. Bake 20 Combine Modern \\ i By BETTI If you have been going around thinking that modern furniture would not speak to early American things, it’s time to shift your gears. Because in one of the newest exhibitions of modern rooms that we have seen, a dining room demonstrated the use of modern furniture An informal friendly room it was with flowered w all paper w ith quit< was modern in a simple direct way chairs. The arrangement was not at all orthodox in that the dining table between them. T1 e wu low

minutes in moderate oven (350 grees) and turn out of pan at on Serve upside down. French Toast With Pineapple and Bacon. (Sef*ves 4) 8 slices bacon 2 eggs (slightly beaten) cup milk *4 teaspoon salt 4 slices bread 4 slices pineapple (canned) Pan fry bacon until nice browned and crisp; drain and ke hot. Combine slightly beaten eg? milk, and salt, and mix well. E bread in egg mixture and saute the hot bacon fat until golden brow Then saute the pineapple slice Place one pineapple slice on ea piece of toast and top with two slic of bacon. Garnish with parsley, ai serve very hot. Waffles. 2 cups pastry flour 2 teaspoons baking powder teaspoon salt 2 eggs 1 cup milk r 3 cup butter (melted) Sliced bacon Mix and sift all dry ingredient | Beat egg yolks thoroughly and ai milk. Then pour this milk mixtu into the dry ingredients and blei lightly Add melted butter and so in the well beaten egg whites. C bacon into 1-inch pieces; place piece on each waffle iron sectk and then pour waffle batter on h wattle iron. Buckwheat Cakes. 1 yeast cake 1 cup lukewarm water | 3 tablespoons dark molasses ; 1 tablespoon salt I cups flour i 1 l ? cups buckwheat flour ■ 1 cup lukewarm water (approx mately) 1 teaspoon soda dissolved in Y< cu water Soak yeast cake in 1 cup of lukf warm water. Add molasses, sal and flour, and _

-TO I

enough additional lukewarm water to make a batter a little thicker than that used for ordinary griddle cakes. Put batter in a

covered bean jar, and let stand ove night. In the morning add soda dis solved in water. Bake on a ho greased griddle. “Hurry-Up-Meals”—those problems of the present-day busy homemaker, will be the subject of Eleanor Howe's column next week. Miss Howe will give you menu plans and recipes for meals that can be whipped together almost in less time than it takes to tell about it. Send for ‘Household Hints. Here is a homemaker’s reference book which gives you tips on every thing from mending net curtains t( arranging cut flowers. How to wasl feather pillows, a quick method o baking potatoes, and how to tes the fabrics that you buy -you’ll fine these and many other suggestion! in “Household Hints” by Eleanoi Howe. To get your copy of this clever book send 10 cents in coin tc “Household Hints,” care of Eleanoi Howe. 919 North Michigan Avenue Chicago, Illinois. <Re)e ->ed by Western Newspaper Union. I ith Period Furniture Y WELLS overcurtains. A valance about 10 in yellow and brown plaid. This same yellow and brown plaid was the dining table. The two easy chairs were covered in chintz in two We i . k lew furniture is