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The Exeter Times-Advocate, 1928-03-08, Page 20 s For all Isfigv' washing ffiSz oriel ejeamr Wild Geese I hold to my heart when the geese are flying— A wavering wedge on the high, bright blue— I tighten my lips to keep from crying: ‘Beautiful birds, let mo go with you!" BEGIN HERE TODAY. V -John Ainsley, a man of education knd breeding, who©© wax wound left Win unfit for manual labor, returns hungry to Jxis shabby boarding-house. lk> pay his landlady the week’s rent for his room—$1—he is compelled to pawn an ivory miniature of his mother. At the pawnshop he is puz- yled at the sight of a prosperous- looking, fur-collared man dickering Xith the broker. After leaving the shop, Ainsley hur ries to-a little restaurant to get food. He is stopped in the entrance by the fur-collared individual, is taken to the man’s home, and is revived with hot roup. As he eats, Ainsley tries to take stock of his host and his surroundings. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY. {) The man unquestionably was not a gentleman. His clothing was too gar ish, his jewelry too blatant. His speech, too, was coarse and sloven, land he used phrases that betokened an unfamiliarity with polite speech- His apartment, moreover, was fur nished! badly. The pictures on the walls clashed violently with the fur nishings. I would have set him down immediately as a parvenu, possibly one of the recent species of profiteers, but for a furtiveness of manner, withdrew it. Moreover, I had first seen him in a pawnshop. Why had he followed me What was he? Well, I rould wait for the answer. And so, forcing myself to be slow, to chew each morsel carefully, I waited for- him to direct the conver sation, for I said practically nothing. He delivered a monologue, based for the most part on places he had visited, events, mostly of a sporting nature, which he had witnessed. I began to think that he was probably a gambler, perhaps a follower of the race-track. Then, having decided that I had eaten all that it was well for me to take at this time, I followed his ex ample and walked with him into the next room. “Smoke?” he asked.. Perhaps I had suffered almost as much through the abstinence from tobacco as through the lack of food. Certainly his question aroused mem ories of sufferings that had seemed unbearable. With the first dizzying inhalation of the cigaret he gave me, I felt my own man once more. I had been the sport of circumstances, bit of flotsam on the city’s tide-. Sudden ly I felt master of my own destiny. "Drink? Cocktail? Highball? Cham pagne?” he asked. I shook my head. "Never touch It,” I said. “And I thought in these days no one but millionaires had such a variety.” “Who said I ain’t a millionaire he demanded. "I beg your pardon/’.said I, mar veling at the queer vanity of him. "It’s all right,” he said. "I sup pose, having seen me talking to Wein berg you thought I was busted.” “I didn’t think anything about i I replied. He laughed in a peculiarly harsh.’ joyless tone. “I guess you were be-: yond thinking about anything, a look at you, and says I to myse’ 'This baby’s about due for gne’.” I felt myself color- "I pretty badly,” I admitted, fop of what Weinberg had been tell ing you about me, it was easy to guess that I wasn't a millionaire.” His eyes, hard blue, narrowed. "You see things, don’t you? Tumbled right off to Weinberg wising me up about you, eh? Well, I knew right off that you were no boob. I thought you were the lad I needed; now I know it. Like a little dough?” I laughed. Odd, how a few ounces of food change the whole world. “What do you think?” I countered. "I’d say that you were ready to do anything to make a stake,” he said. "Almost anything,” I amended. "Fussy?” he asked. "I’m a gentleman,” I told him. The words sounded grandiloquent, absurd. LEGERDEMAIN "Yes, I suspected as much,” said my host- "Starvation hurts a gentle man’s insides just like it does an ordinary roughneck’s, don’t it? Are you proud?”"Suppose you explain,” I suggested. "Make it snappy, eh?" All right, J will. I take it you have no friends in particular. You wouldn’t be starving if you had, Ain I right?” "Go on,” I said. "If you got a chance to make money, real money, important money, you’d jump at it. Am I right?” "Go on some mqre. You interest me,” I smiled. "There’s- a lot of money lying around this town waiting for a good man to pick it up,” he said. "Show it to me,” I suggested. "Suppose I do? Have you got nerve enough to grab it?” he demanded. I reached for another cigaret, then drew back my hand empty. The con versation had taken a turn that mys tified me- I was not sure that I wished to place myself under further obligation to my host. "I don’t think I understand,” I told him. He put Iiis hand into a pocket and „AZ.d__ Y. I don’t think that"ever in my life I had seen so much actual cash as he placed on a table beside him. Certainly there must have been fifteen or twenty thousand-dollar bills, and as many more of lesser denomina tions ranging from fifty to five hun dred. "Understand those?” He pointed to the wad of bills. ■ I managed to lift my eyes from the money and looked at him. "Go on,” I said again. "I’m in business,” he said slowly. "It’s a new business, and there’s lots g ‘And at night when they honk—and | I their wings are weaving M A pattern across a full gold moon— I ‘ I hold to a heart that would be leav- I I ing :If it wrere freed to fly too soon.Everywoman’s Maid-of-all-work ’ 1 j10i4 to Jny jieartt woui(j ])e ~ ; going— A comrade to wild birds of the air, As wayward as they—and never knowing i the mcr- , , JCO lOOK "And on 5 •' h, r~ *■ Outdoors or indoors — whatever your task* Let WRIGLEY’S refresh you— allay your thirst, aid appetite and digestion* Helps keep teeth elean* After 'Every Meal "Understand those?” he pointed to the bills- L__ _____________________ it,", oi money in it. People don’t lose | their thirsts simply because other people pass a law.” "Bootlegging?” I suggested. "Bright boy,” he said- “Other things, too.” His eyes were almost hidden be tween their lids now; yet I knew that their pupils studied me intently. “How far would you travel with a man who could toss you a bunch like that on the table?” He pointed at the wad of bills. “I need a man like you, a man that can look and talk and act like a gentleman. I got ideas, but I ain’t always able to put them over. You Bee, I know my own limits. It doesn’t matter how much of a front I wear it don’t fool the people that I want to fool.” I understood him. “My face is my fortune. Is that it ” I laughed. He nodded. “You can make it your fortune. It hasn’t made much of a one for you yet- Anyone-can tell that you have been educated, and used to good things and all that, but where’s it got you?” "Here in your apartment, accepting charity,” I replied. He waved a disclaiming hand. "Not charity—business,” he corrected me. "Thank you,” said I. “I’m glad you put it on a business basis. How much do you think the food I ate was worth?” "What you mean?” he asked. "I mean what I told you awhile ago. I’m a gentleman,” I said, "—not a bootlegger or a crook.” ' His thin lips curled in a sneer.. "I suppose it's better to be a gentleman and starve than a wise guy and get rich.” "I think so,” I told him. "There’s still other ways of making money,” he said. “For instance, you could run to the police, give them my address, and tell them what I’ve told you-” "You know that I won’t,” I replied. “Will this cover the cost of what I a^e?” I admit that it was ungracious, even to a confessed criminal. But after all, he had insulted me, I placed two dollars upon the table—how piti ful the amount was when laid beside his huge wad of bills—-picked up my hat from the chair on which it had been dropped at my entrance, nodded to him and started for the door. "Wait a minute,” he said. "When you think this over, you’ll change youi* mind. You’ll want to find me. I won’t be here. This place is rented foi’ the night. Just go to Weinberg and tell him you want me. That’s the kind of a man I am—no hard feel ings.” “None here, either,” I told him- "But I hardly think we’ll meet again.” "You’re belly’s filled now. Wait till you’re hungry again.” "I will,” said I. And with that I walked from the apartment to find myself a moment later in Washington Square. I looked at the great clock on the Judson Tower. I could still keep my word to Mrs. Gannon. I did. Then, with two dollars left of the five I had received from Weinberg, I climbed more easily this time than last, to my room. I sat down upon the bed and re viewed the last hour. And' as I thought of how a cheap criminal had carried me to his lodgings, fed me, patronized me and insulted me, 1 was sick with shame. A man of my education and breeding, who had sunk so low in the social scale that he was open to such an insult, who was as unable to cope With the elementary facts of life as I was, was unfit to live- It was a harsh judgment which I rendered against myself, but a just one. Incompetents clutter up the path of progress. Society, in making civil ized life difficult for the incompetent, is enacting natural decrees; for na ture, before society began, destroyed the incompetent. A. sudden determina tion came to me. I had parted with the last possession that had a market able value. Of course, I had my over coat; but freezing was. not preferable to starvation.* * * * But why starve or freeze when there was an easy alternative? That is, the alternative would be easy if I were in full possession of my faculties. But if I became hungry to the point of starvation again, my faculties would be impaired, my will be gone. I could see myself begging of passers-by, even possibly, rummaging in refuse-pails for a bone or a crust, like any fam ished dog. The alternative, of swift and simple self-destruction, was infinitely prefer able to such degradation. I would cat again—already my stomach cried for more food, so long had I gone hungry —then walk to the waterfront rid society of one of its unfit. (To be continued.) Baldwin Employs Retort Courteous and London—A highly developed ex ample of the retort courteous was in dulged in by Prime Minister Baldwin In the House of Commons recently. Asked to comment on a recent speech in ■which Viscount Weimer the as sistant Postmaster-General, suggested that the post_office might be better operated by private enterprise, the Prime Minister remarked: "I heard what Lord Woimer said and it struck me that when he has attained to years of discretion he will speak with that caution which char acterizes every one of our utter ances.” „ Lord Woimer is 41 years old. Causes Gossip London—Lobby gossip in the House t of Commons one nighl was occupied with the sharp rebuke Premier Stan ley Baldwin administered to one of his ministers, Viscount Woimer, as sistant postmaster-general, in the House of Commons In the afternoon. Following the "rap on the knuck les/’ as some describe it, came the cryptic announcement that Lord Woimer, acting on medical advice Is leaving London and going abroad for two months. We live In a world of mysteries, and the scientific man is more aware of his ignorance than anybody else. —Sir Oliver Lodge. Minard's Liniment kills wart3. in il Where it is going—-find never care— > The colour and exquisite flavour of Green Tea are natural—Only the process of curing is different from Black Tea—Both are equally pure—^SALAOA” Green Tea is sealed in air tight aluminum—fresh—delicious—satisfying— 38c per J-lbB at all grocers. Ask for this tea. "SALADA" SHEEN TEA -I II I ■' Women of 1928I hold to my heart—for here lies duty, [ And here is the path where ray feet | _ , s^ay I We look back with amazement and But O, that quivering line of beauty .. . ......................... Beating its beautiful, bright-winged way! -Grace Noll Crowell. Wilson Publishing Company 1550 A NEW BLOOMER DRESS. This charming little bloomer dress has a square* neck, and’*short kimono sleeves, or long sleeves attached and gathered to narrow wrist-bands- A shirred set-in Trill in the front pro vides for the necessary fulness, and the back is in one piece. Both views are trimmed with an attractive cross- stitch design. The bloomers have elastic run through the top and leg casings. The dress is No. 1550 and1 is in sizes 2, 4, 6 and 8 years. Size 4 requires 2 yards 36-inch material, or 1% yards 54inch. Price 20c the pat tern. The Transfer Design No. 1163 has two strips of cross-stitch border, each 15% inches long, two narrow borders 28 inches long. Blue or yellow. Price 25c the pattern. , Our Fashion Book, illustrating the newest and most practical styles, will be of interest to every home dress maker. Price of the book 10c the copy. HOW TO ORDER PATTERNS. Write your name and address plain ly, giving number and size of such patterns as you want. Enclose 20c in stamps or coin (coin preferred; wrap it carefully) for each number and address your order to Pattern Dept,, Wilson Publishing Co., 73 West Ade laide St., Toronto. Patterns sent by return mail. I- for Gloom but the destinies of nations, "lie in l the hands that a little while ago were i 'pale and weak with idleness. . I ' pity at the woman of 1828, it is said, but we look with admiration also, for (it is out of their dreaming and striv- jing that our freedom has come, So I writes "A Modern Girl" in the London Daily News,"who says that women are I standing untrammeled on the thresh old of 1928, a year that wi.ll probably bring to Englishwomen, with an in creased franchise, even more freedom than they have now. A hundred years ago, it Is recalled, the ladies of the land sat in stifling idleness. .There were no professions open are reminded, and if they fortunately placed that Kaiser’s OH Home Decays Berlin—The threatening decay of the “Neues Palais" near Pqtsdam, the ex-Kaiser’s former residence, was reported by government building ex perts on their annual round of inspec tion. As the work of restoration called fo pompt action, this historical landmark of the Potsdam environs has been temporarily closed to the public. Keep Minard’s in the Medicine Chest. 1 , ... \ J I Little Mary, who had fallen ill, beg- j ged for a kitten. It was found that I to them, we were so un- ' „ _____„_______________they must 'an operation was necessary for tho earn their own living- or starve they j child’s euro, and that she must go could only hope for employment as a ,to the hospital. The mother promised "companion” or as a governess. We c1’“ are then offered this picture of "poor Miss 1828,” which shows a startling contrast between the young ladies of that day and those of to-day: "Look at her standing there in hei* stuffy thick clothing, her, hideous frilled ‘pelisse’ with its puffed sleeves, her -face hidden by an ungainly flap-. ping bonnet ‘as large as an umbrella.’ 1 She has been grounded like Amelia1 Sedley in the principles of religion and morality. Her head is stuffed ; with Mangnall’s questions, her fingers ! are sore with working 'samplers/ her ' body is stiff with that strange cult known as ‘deportment.’ She is just sixteen years of age and ready to 'come out’ to a life of social and do mestic inanition. # When sho dances, it is to pace soberly through the mea sures of a minuet or the quadrilles, for she has not yet been introduced to the 'sprightly polka’ or the glamor ous waltz. Little wonder that sho breaks the monotony of her days by occasional fits cf hysterics or a grace ful swoon. “She had her vanities, poor dear— her looks were one of her few in terests. She was as frightened of cor pulence as is hen modern sister. Rosy, fresh cheeks were considered com mon, and she deprived herself of adc-1 quate food for fear cf growing fat and j ‘material.’ A pale and tired gcntitllty ; was her creed. She moved of neces- j sity in a small and circumscribe# cir-' cle traveling no further than lier feet,! or the slow, lumbering coach, would: take her, for the revolution of trans-1 port had hardly begun, and railways I were not yet familiar.” j Of all the changes the swiftly mov- j ing hundred years past has. brought] about, none is mere dramatic, thinks ■ “A Modern Giri,” than the improve- ment in the status of women. Not ■ only their own dest' ‘ we are told, Hnciiltal ’T'Ba mnihm* nvnmkrv] 'tht if she were very brave she should ■'have the very finest kitten to be •found. As Mary was recovering from .the influence of the anaesthetic the 'nurso heard her muttering:—“It’s a 'rotten way to get a kitten.” I __ _____________________________ $List, of "Wanted Inventions" and Full Information Sent Fres cn Request. THE RAMSAY CO., Dept. W. 273 Eault St., Otiasva. Ont. PLANT BSM, Why pay agents double prices for trees, .LvA. shrubs and plnnta? Huy Canadian-grown SN-J^-atoclr direct from ns and savo agent’s commissions. Wehandlo only high grado •*.’ Block, guaranteed truo-to-name. Onr packing and shipping facilities are un excelled—customers everywhere endorse our money-saving sales methods. All standard varieties of fruits, berries, t shrubs,ornamental trees, bulbs, etc., fully ss describedii, our largo complete catalogue. __ with explicit planting directions. Yotj”)l save money and get better results with gnr Bjocit, Send today for catalof^-it'a h'HEli. CJX2OKI EJWRBEEWBS s—Eoz: b FcKtMia, CtoSocfo Britain 70 CANADA ^OU can arrange for your relatives '*“■ and friends this low ocean fare— greatly reduced rail rates, children under 17 carried FREE. Ask at once for details of tho British NomlnationSchemo horn any oflicc or agent of the -»y 's&TRsrss: Get Ready For Chicks Literally and figuratively, the world will seem a cold and cruel one to baby chicks which emerge from their shells during the earliest weeks of spring. Perhaps the cruelty edn’t be helped, but at least a little of the chill can be taken off, if the poultry grower has seen to it that the brooder house equipment is in good order when the chicks are ready for it. February la designated as a good month to: Examine and overhaul the brooder stove, replacing any broken or worn out parts; test the thermo stat with heat to see that it operates the all’ intakes arid checks; replace any broken or rusted sections of stove pipe; secure plenty of good’ grade coal, such as was very hard to get last year when It was wanted; start the stove a couple of days before the chicks are put In the brooder house; test fuel pipes and wicks of oil stoves. Comfortable quarters In the very earliest days means much In the fu ture development of chicks and the profit which they will return to their owners. Wanted—>-Less “Mud and Misery,” and Mora Cheer* ful Novels About Nor mal People A correspondent recently complain ed in a London newspaper that thor© was a wearjisqme monotony about present-day novels, because nfnety- I nine uot of every hundred heroines were "extremely slim.” Hi# complaint Is quite justified; ’but even more ninety-nine young figures is tlbeir general behaviour. All the very newest heroines, ap parently, not only object to "obey",” but refuse to go through any max'- rlage ceremony at all. Those that are not quite so new—-those, say, on the second shelf at the lending lib rary—-all manage to make idiotic; marriages to just the wrong people. They are either in t':e divorce court when the pleasing ta’.e opens, or liv ing on its- doorstep in the third chap ter. In some cases it is, the man who-. is so anxious to make a hurried change. Anyway, there must be distinct signs of a matrimonial mix-up for some body by tlw second chapter if the novel is to be a best-seller. Books—that Bare The very gloomiest of tlicse popu lar favorites—at least, that’s what they call them at the lending libraries- —are those that come out in twins' of triplets, giving you the whole life- history of a family. They are in variably such a mournful and morbid crowd that the occasional relief of a- ■murder or suicide is welcome. ! The.se are, I find, the sert of books that well-meaning friends bring you. when you are just recovering from . ’flu. If you attempt to road one, you ‘ get a headache; if you go on, you got. a relapse. j Many of these volumes of ths mud- and-misery typo are wiitten by so- called leading novelists who ought to know better. People read them because they will read anything which bears these writers’ names. * But how many people, if they spoke, the truth, really want to read them—- or do? How many skim a few chap ters, so that they may bo sure of be ing up to date, and then, with a thank ful sigh, pick up a good, wholesaino detective yarn, aud give their wor ried brains a rest from psychoanaly sis' and the divorce court? Ono wonders how many writers paid—v. twenty years’ on the i yoars, it those cncc praised to now completely forgotten. j The exceptions that prove this rule, such as tho books of Dickens and Thackeray, and such lasting favor ites, again, as "Lorna Doone.” “The Cloister and the Hearth/’ and “Treas ure Island,” were not books that de liberately tried to be abnormal. They i were just plain tales about average human beings, but written extra ordinarily well. It is not perpetual’ fooling, like the insane “comics” of the American films, which one wants in a British book, but neither is it perpetual gloom. "Give Me a Failure!" ; Most cf us in these days find life anything but easy, and we get all the (rouble we want--and some over--- without going to the lending libraries for it. Those who use free libraries, where the newest fiction is not hand ed out, are really better off than tho patrons of the subscription libraries. A young business man of my ac quaintance., whoso working day often ends at nine or ten o’clock, and. who has neither time nor money for amusements, joined a local lending library as an economical relaxation. Given a volume guaranteed as sure to please him—“it's the latest suc cess—everybody’s asking for it"—ho returned it next day in disgust. ; “If this is the sort cf thing that’s a , success, for goodness’ sake give me one of the failures!” ho said, iBank of France Branch tedious than the ladies’’ bean-pole of the- now ' so highly lauded—and'. .11 even be remembered in. Looking back last hundred that many of the skies afe even be time, novels cf the ; is. evident r~PURliy FLOUR—I | BEST FOR AU ,, I Hao Disappearing Floor Paris—A fortress with a most guards tho gold of tho Bank of France. “Even the mire it," say < Deep in the branch of the cratic palace, V ed sentinel with orders to let no one but the chief director enter. Tho en trance to the strong room is a metal safe-door seven feet thick. Inside the gold is stored in other supposedly burglarproof boxes. . The moat; sixty-five feet deep, has a swift ten foot flow of water in it, db verted from an underground river. Should some master cracksman reach tho big steel door he would be in a smooth steel corridor, the floor of which would disappear from under him once ho began operations. B©' lew him would be the swift stream and all about him polished steel sun faces offering no grip. What devices there are to cause ths floor to vanish are secret. Officials are so certain pj the safety of their treasure that they are willing that burgmrs should know where France keeps hoi’ billions. "Did any of your family ever make a brilliant marriage-" "OnJ* W ylfq.”- , American bankers ad- ofileials of tho bank, cellars of the last-built bank, is an old, arista- orc is always an arm-