The Exeter Times-Advocate, 1934-03-29, Page 2THURSDAY, MARCH 29th, 1934 THE EXETER TIMES-ADVOCATE
SHINING PALACE
by Christine Whiting Parmenter
this ?
At his tone, Nora threw a convert
glance in Don’s direction. On edge,
she decided; and answered tactfully
“Of course you may. Toss it in the
back. You can take your necktie off
too, for all of me.”
His face softened. Save tor that
one wan smile it had been grim be
fore.
“You’re a good scout, Nora, I’ll
take advantage of that offer after
it gets dark.”
The girl smiled as they started, a
sonile of understanding blent with
amusement.
“You are so formally correct!
‘Oh, may I?” Did you by any ciiance
mistake me for Emily Post, dear?”
Don really smiled.
“I’m afraid I don’ know what the
lady looks like. My formality was
the result of an ugly disposition, I
suppose. You looked SO' cool and
comfortably and sleeveless, darling,
it made me resentful.”
I‘ve been so damnably hot all day
Will you forgive me?”
One soft hand left the wheel,
touching his a moment. Then she
said briskly: “Remove that tie and
unfasten your collar too, Don. Now
slump down comfortably and forget
your manners. Who cares for ap
pearances after a day like
Once we get far enough from these
hot pavements you’ll revive. Don’t
try to talk if your head has gone
on strike. Just rest. I’m sorry,
dear.”
Don obeyed, grateful for silence,
the healing cool of evening, and
Nora’s nearness. The city was left
behind after a while. The silence
deepened. Dusk driftes into dark
while somewhere high, high above
them a star was born—another—and
still more until at last myriads of
tiny lights spangled the sky. Don
thought: “If I could get the feeling
that I’m only a part or this iraens-
ity—that my own small troubles
don’t really matter ... Or if my
head would stop this confounded
throbbing ...” He said,, after
more miles had slippec away, speak
ing so suddenly that the girl startl
ed: “Nora, what makes me different
from other people?”
.She stopped the car, and turning,
faced him in the starlight.
“Are the rest of us. all cut from
the same pattern, Don?”
“Not you,” he answered. “God
never made your double; yet even
you can accept a way of living that
suffocates me. Tell me the truth.
Am I a sort of savage?”
.She answered soberly; “You’re
just yourself, darling. I don’t want
you different. Oh, Don, don’t fret
about it any more! Do you imagine
there aren't others who possess the
craving to break away—escape—do
something'that no one else has done
before? How far would science be
without your kind, my dear? If
you’d take things more calmly!—not
let yourself get
Quick angry
eyes.
“Relax! Can
ten thousand imps are pounding on
his brain? If I could sleep for a
week— Look here,” he broke off,
contrite all of a sudden. “I’ve no
business talking to you like this.
I’m ashamed of myself. I used to be
lieve that I amounted to something,
Nora; but now I feel so inefficient.
Perhaps I can’t judge things in their
true proportions, for even a trifling
error in my work appears a crime!
I, actually wonder if my morale is •
slipping. I can’t help seeing my
self as I look to your brother, Nora
and—and that hurts. A fellow can’t
go on scorning himself like that and
get nowhere, can he?”
She answered, her low voice very
gentle: “I think you exaggerate
your failures, Don. Only today my
father told me that you were doing
well. He’s not discouraged with
your progress, dear; but Ned makes
you nervous. And why shouldn’t he?
I’ve felt his scorn too, Don. I know
now it hurts. For a long time I’ve
suspected that he despises me a
little, because of my birth. Ned’s
so conventional. He can’t help feel
ing a bit uncomfortable, I suppose,
tense—relax a llittle
sprang into his blue
a man relax when
pounding the top of his head with
tiny hammers. Where, he was ask
ing himself frantically, had he been
on Friday? /Of course there was no
girl; but he must produce an alibi!
and he couldn’t seem to thinki. No
ra’s brother was accusing him of be
ing untrue to her ... It was beast
ly, horrible and . . • Then he heard
Ned say, a triumphant ring in his
usually livel voice: “You don’t deny
it? Then perhaps you’ll admit what
Corinne suspected at the time: You
were giving her money?”
To the man’s 'Complete surprise,
instant relief sprang into Don’s har
assed face. Money! That girl on the
bridge, of course! The kid he had
talked with! Those blinding head
lights that had lingered on him. So
Ned Lambert and his wife had been
behind them. Gosh! what a situation
Perhaps, under the Circumstances,
it wasn’t so .strange—the thing they
thought about him. He said, almost
laughing in relief: “Yes, I gave her
money, ‘She set me back, a whole
month’s board—poor kid! You see
. . . ." , /
He told the story, eagerly, excit
edly. He told it well, It had seem
ed a colorful experience—a bit out
of the ordinary run of life, to Don.
He did not realize how it would
seem to Ned, until at its close the
man said dryly: “And you really ex
pect to put that over on me, Ma
son?”
Don stared at him, amazement in
his eyes.
“Put it over on you! Doi—do
mean
not to mention eating.”
“1’11 say it is! We had ours sent ■
in. But we’re likely to get it hot-,
ter come July. Fathers says they’re
moving to the country on Monday. 1
You can't wobki without food, Ma-1
son. Better skip out and get a bite.
I . . . ”
His voice trailed off as he came
nearer, Now pausing beside the
desk he lifted the newspaper and
stared down a while, utterly uncon
scious of Don’s tense attitude. With
maddening accuracy his lean white
finger fround the elusive error.
“You’ve a mistake there, Mason,”
He might have been correcting some
small boy. “That .six should have
been a sixty. See?” He sauntered to
the window, gazing down at below
while Don suppressed a murderous
impulse to throw him out, but Ned
had turned again—was speaking.
“See here, Don. There’s something
I feel I ought to say to you.”
The young man braced himself.
“If it’s about my work, 1 can save
you the trouble,” he replied brus
quely. “I know I’m a dumbbell at
this sort of thing—always will be.
Suppose you keep those comments
for a day when the mercury’s some
where below one hundred. There
are limits, you know, t-o what eyen
a cog in this machine can endure
without exploding; and for your sis
ter’s sake I prefer to keep my tem
per.”
Ned sat down slowly on the win
dow ledge. He didn’t speak for a
moment, and regaring him closely
Don wondered how many times that
morning the man had changed his
collar. The thought made him con
scious of his own much wrinkled
linen trousers, and he slid his long
leg under the desk to hide them.
'You happen to be on the wrong
track,” Ned began. “My comments
have nothing whatever to do with
your work here. You do as well as
most beginners, I suppose. What I
PILE REMEDIES^j^
run (SINTMt
Be Sure to Order by Humber
* I FOR INTERNAL NEED
*2 FOR EXTERNAL NEED
MECCA"
I was should Was anything worth this terrible
I inertia? Was anything worth tak- Don ! ing the joy from life?
i
before
that, Nora, I
that anybody born as
be his sister.”
There was a silence
grimly: “If I believed
—I think I’d kill him with my bare
hands!"
“Thanks, dear; but that wouldn't
help matters.” Nora spoke lightly,
and the tension of the moment broke
as she wished it to. “Besides, Ned
has his own good points, you know.
He's devoted to Dad, unselfishly de
voted I am sure; and his morals are
—impeccable. There are even mo
ments when he’s lovable)—when I
could love him myself, if he’d let
me. But you mustn’t look for un
derstanding in a man of Ned’s type,
darling. It may not be his fault
that he sees only one side of life.
He was probably born that way, and
nothing has happened since to
change him. Gee! isn’t that breeze
delicious? Perhaps tomorrow will be
more bearable. I’m going to take
you home this minute, Don. You
need sleep more than conversation.
How’s the head now?”
“Better, beloved, thanks to your
ministrations.”
This was a lie told cheerfully in
her behalf; but Nora, here eyes on
a spasmodically twitching eyebrow
was not deceived.
Despite a refreshing coolness in
the air as they Tode toward home,
the mercury soared next day. Prom
ising though the breeze had seemed,
it came to a discouraged end before
Don got to sleep, and after a few
short hours of restless slumber he
awakened to a sense of suffocation.
The only window of his small room
faced east, and already the sun,
streaming across his bed, felt
scorching.
The day before on seeing a woman
walking the hot pavement with
“summer
shoulder,
imbecile”
his own
across a
i
needed pressing
least they would
than serge. A
showed him. that
a
fur” thrown over her
Don had judged her “an
Now with a glance at
dark suit hanging neatly
chair, he called himself
something even stronger, and rising
delved into his trunk in search of
some long-packed linen trousers, the
work of a native tailor in Jamaica.
The fact that they
was immaterial. At
be more bearable
glance into the hall
miracle of boarding houses; an em
pty bathroom; and after indulging
in a shower and donning the mini
mum of garments, he left the house,
unable to contemplate the inevitable
dish of sloppy oatmeal that awaited
him in the dining rc-om below.
A roll and glass of milk at the
nearest restaurant made life look
brighter for the moment; and out of
sympathy for the waitress (wilted
at this early hour) Don’jS tip was
twice the cost of his simple meal.
Her surprised question: “Isn’t this
a mistake, mister?” brought a
glimpse of the engaging smile that
had been absent from his counten
ance for many a day.
“It’s a feeble attempt to counter
act the weather,” he responded, ris
ing: “Blow it on ice cream sodas if
you survive,” and the girl’s spon
taneous smile of amazed gratitude
stayed with him for awhile, the one
bright spot in the hectic, subway jam
So the day began, a day that was
to be of vast importance to Don, to
Nora and to her father also. By 10
o’clock the streets swarmed with
short-sleeved people. By noon the
the ambulanco gong was sounding
with alarming frequency. When one
of the stenographers collapsed and
was sent home in a taxicab, Don en
vied the girl. He found it well nigh
impossibde to get down to work—to
concentrate. Yet there was an er
ror somewhere, which, he thought
nervously must be located before
I Ned Lambert came in. And to make
| things worse his head had begun to
■ hammering again. Perhaps when the
others were out to lunch and things
were quieter, it would clear up.
They were gone at last. The noisy
typewriters were silent;
for the rumble of traffic far below,
the room was still. Don stood at a
window in an effort to fill his lungs
with better air; but it was too hot
to be refreshing, and back at his
desiki again discouragement engulf
ed him, thick and impenetrable as
a London fog.
Four month more! He could
never stick it—even for Nora. He
was no good—absolutely. That wise
old man had certainly shown him up.
Well, he mused bitterly, was she?
and save
Was So Short of Breath
Could Not Lie Down to Sleep
J k Mrs. P. J. Chernoff, Shoreacres, B.C., writes:—
“I had been so troubled with shortness of breath I
could not lie down to sleep.
I could not do any hard work, or climb the stairs,
and had such nervous and smothering feelings I
became very weak.
I tried all kinds of medicine, but got no relief
until I had taken three boxes of Milburn’s IL & N.
Pills, and since then I have felt bettor in every way.”
drug and general stornS; put up only by Tho T. Milburn Co., Limited, Toronto, Ont.
Joy? Don started, raised his
head as if wakened rudely from a
bad dream. He was a fool—a damn
fool not to see things clearer. What
joy would he find anywhere—with
out Nora? What sacrifice was too
great for her? He had been right
last evening when he said that his
morale was slipping. Why else
should he have such thoughts? The
must buck up.
It came to him then with a sense
of healing, that the opinions of
others didn’t matter, if Nora under
stood. And she did*—'bless her loyal
heart! His girl knew that he wasn't
a weakling. She didn’t scorn him
because his nerves were jumpy and
he couldn’t sleep. She realized the
truth, if no one else did; that noth
ing in life had fitted him for a job
of this sort, and that
damnable year was over
got away from everything
Don turned, nerves
again; and with a gesture
appear casual, covered his
ger with the morning paper.
Ned Lambert, apparently cool, ob
viously unruffled, stood on the
threshold. Something about his smug
immaculate appearance maddened
Don, though the older man said
pleasantly enough: “Have you had
lunch?”
Don answered, a curious dryness
in his throat: “Too hot to go out,
refer to is a different matter alto
gether. I’ve no desire to meddle
with your private life, Mason, Get
that straight. But father says Nora
sends you home early; and twice I’ve
caught you nodding by three o’clock
It stands to reason that a man who
gets to bed before midnight, ought
to be able to keep awake through
the next day. I can only surmise . .
I “Well?” Don prodded, ominous
quiet in his voice.
only surmise,” repeated
.—well to speaki plainly,
go home after you
when
and'
til e
he
quivering
meant to
open led-
C2
| “I can i
' Ned. “that-
that you don’t
leave Nora.”
“I see,” said
perately angry,
attempt to hold his temper.
I ask where your active imagination'
sees me passing the night hours?”
Ned flushed, looking hot, thought
Don, for the first time that stifling
day, though he answered calmly:
“Sarcasm won’t help, Mason, be
cause as it happens, I’ve got the
goods on you. Do you understand?”
“Most certainly I do not! Make
yourself clear, please”.
“I’ll only be too glad to.” Ned
spoke briskly, as if concluding some
successful business deal. “I don’t
like beating about the bush myself;
and yon can’t deny that you
with another girl late Friday
ing, because I saw you.”
“The hell you did!”
Don’s eyes were blazing,
seven housand imps 'seemed
Don. He was des-
but making a brave
“May
were
even-
while
to be
NEW
to imply . . .”
(To be continued)
RESTAURANT
A new restaurant known as
Star Cafe & 'Chop Suey House,
been opened up in Seaforth,
Chong is the proprietor.
yoh
the
has
Thom
aoi
FACTS ABOUT HYDRO — No. 2 of a series of official announcements by the Ontario Municipal
Electric Association, representing the Municipalities who own the Hydro-Electric System of Ontario.
M UNICIPALGELE CT RIC
•V ASS QIC I ATION
i
What Hydro Has Saved
Domestic Consumers
In 1932, the last year for which comparative figures are available, all the
domestic consumers served by Hydro municipalities used an aggregate of
740,000,000 kilowatt-hours, for which they paid the aggregate sum of
$11,676,000, or an average cost, inclusive of all charges, of only 1.57 cents
per kilowatt-hour. According to United States census figures for 1932, the
domestic consumers served by privately-owned utilities in that country paid
an average of 5.60 cents per kilowatt-hour.
It is a simple matter to compute that, if Ontario Hydro domestic consumers
had had to pay, for the 740,000,000 kilowatt-hours they used in 1932, as
much per kilowatt-hour as United States consumers paid, their bills would
have aggregated the vast sum of $41,490,000, or nearly $30,000,000 more
than the amount their electricity actually cost them under Hydro service.
Comparative Cost of Domestic Lighting Service
in Typical Canadian and United States Cities
Quantity of Electricity
Under Private Ownership
Monthly Net Bill for the Same
Under Hydro System
Toronto ...............$1.44 Montreal..............$3.15
London................. 1.74 Detroit................. 4.35
Hamilton............ 1.74 Buffalo................. 4.14
Brantford ............ 1.74 New York.......... 6.60
Ottawa................. 1.74 Boston..................... 5.30
Note—Hydro serves 56,000 rural consumers at an average cost,
inclusive of all charges, of 4.57 cents per kilowatt-hour.
Hydro has saved the citizens of the associated Hydro municipalities tens of
millions of dollars for electric service. And in addition, it has made possible
* the enjoyment of comfort-giving and labor-saving appliances on a scale that,
but for low Hydro rates, would have been beyond the means of the average
citizen. The facts about Hydro speak for themselves;
Municipal Electric Association
PUBLICITY COMMITTEE:
Chairman, Controller James Simpson, Toronto Frank L. Mason, Oshawa T. W. McFarland, London
* Keep this informative statement and watch for further statements by the Publicity Committee.