The Exeter Times-Advocate, 1940-08-01, Page 2THURSDAY, AUGUST 1st, .11)10 THE EXETER TIMES-ADVOCATE
“It All Depends”
BY ALMA SIOUX SCARBERRY
“That’s nice/’ Shamrock sighetl nvd: "Bk*>s my old buttons! The] star. She clinched her hands he-
tiredly. little woman has been spying on hind her back and said furiously:
The Exeter Times-Advocate
“You rest, dear,’* Tex got up from
the floor. “I'll raid the ice box and
see what I can find for a light sup
per. You'd better take it easy and
try to get some sleep tonight.”
Maybe, Smoky told herself uncer
tainly, she hadn't made such a big
mistake after all. Tex Stacy was
the most perfect gentleman she’d
ever known in her life.
CHAPTER XIX
Shamrock was touched deeply with
the friendship offered by every one
at the theatre w’hen she and Tex re
turned the next night. To them she
was only an amateur, but sorrow
had come to her and they wanted to
make her feel that she belonged.
Torchy put her arms around her
and kissed her when she entered the
dressing room. “Oh, Smoky," she
sobbed, “it’s awful losing your
father just when you got married
and ought to be so happy. It nearly
killed me when I read about it in
the papers.”
Smoky sat down at her mirror,
“It’s the way Pop wanted to go,”
hei’ voice caught. “He wanted to die
with his boots on. And he never
would have been well because of his
heart and injured back. He suffered
terribly.”
“Then it’s best,” Torchy wiped her
eyes. “I think you’re very brave
to come back so soon.”
“I’m going in Tex’s ‘Go West'
number,” Smoky pushed back her
hair and tied a cloth around her
head as she had seen the other
girls do before making up.
“No foolin’,” Torchy said unbe
lievingly. “In Le Maire’s spot?”
Warning From Torchy
Smoky nodded. Torchy giggled,
“Oh, boy! Will that burn Gogo?
She’ll never forgive you. Maybe you
don’t know it, but she’s got a crush
on your cowhand.”
“Really?” Shamrock looked up
surprised1. “What makes you think
so?”
“Everybody knows it! She’s al
ways hanging around his dressing
room. Look out for that damsel. If
you take her spot in the sketch she
will never forgive you. She’s got a
wild temper.”
Smoky smeared the cold cream
on her face languidly: “I guess Tex
can handle her. I’m not worried."
“I wouldn’t want her in my hair,”
Torchy shrugged.
Smoky had been told to watch
Gogo and Tex from the wings, so
that she would see how the star
played the part of Lona from Ari
zona.
Tex wore a dark make-up that
made him look very Spanish and
iGogo was adorable in a white riding
habit and Western hat. Underneath
a yellow moon, Tex strummed his
banjo and sang to her in his deep,
mellow baritone.
■Give me your love and I will hold
You in my arm forever,
Smoky -watched and listened care
fully because of what Torchy had
told her, and she could see that Go-
go certainly had her heart in her
work. At the end Tex took her in
his arms and kissed her, and Smoky
saw Le Maire close her eyes and
cling to Tex passionately as the cur
tain fell to deafening applause.
Smoky is Jealous
’ They took three encores, and at
the end of each Gogo clung to Tex
and kissed him. Gogo went off into
the other wings to go to her dress
ing room and Tex joined Shamrock.
She pulled away when he bent to
kiss her.
“Wipe some of that woman’s lip
stick off before you kiss me,” Smoky
said furiously, and Tex looked at
her in amazement.
“Darling! Don’t tell me you’re jeal
ous of Gogo. You flatter me.”
“I’m not blind,’ Smoky told him
grimly. “You certainly enjoy your
work.”
It infuriated her when Tex grin-
Another Bad Night
Could Get No Rest
To the thousands who toss, night
after night, on sleepless beds and to
whose eyes slumber will not come.
To those who sleep in a kind of
way, but whose rest is broken by
bad dreams and nightmares.
To those who wake up in the
morning as tired as on going io bed,
we offer in Milburn’s Health and
Herve Pills a remedy to help soothe
and calm the nerves and bring them
back to a perfect condition, and
When this is done there should be no
more sleepless nights due to shat
tered nerves.
The T. Milburn Oo., Toronto, tat.
me.”
“I guess” Smoky twisted hex;'
hands "everybody in the show
knows that she’s got a crush on you.
I—it’s just embarrassing, that’s all.’
“Never mind honey. You’ll be get
ting Le Maire’s kisses after tomor
row night. And we’ll show ’em a
real fadeout.”
She sniffed disdainfully and walk
ed away. Tex looked after her,
scratching his head. Shamrock jeal
ous? It was an encouraging sign and
he went back to his dressing room
feeling quite cheerful
Gogo was in the room waiting for
him. He left the door open and
the star went over and closed it.
“Tex,” she pouted prettily, “did
you have anything to do with your
wife taking my place in your West
number?”
“Not a thing, Gogo,” Tex assur
ed truthfully. V'The first thing 1
heard of it was when Chance came
over to take some pictures the other
day.”
Gogo Starts Plotting
“I feel so much better,” Gogo
sighed. “ -was afraid you didn’t like
me.”
Tex was beginning to feel decided
ly .uncomfortable. He said guarded
ly: “You’re too intelligent a trouper
to think I’d let my personal feelings
enter into my job, Miss La Maire.”
Gogo didn’t quite know what he
meant. She pouted again, because
she was famous for her cute pout.
Men loved it, she had found.
“You wouldn’t mind—terribly,”
Gogo looked up at him appealingly,
“If Melvin changed his mind and
let me keep the spot then, darling.”
Tex said: “That is entirely up to
Mr. Melvin.”
“After all,” Gogo told him sweet
ly, “it never would have happened
if Miss O’Toole hadn’t got all the
publicity when she married you. I
am sure you wouldn’t want her to
be just a stooge, Mel admits she’s
just a chorus girl and always will
be.”
Tex’s face colored. “She’s Mrs.
Stacy,” he said quietly, “and that’s
all I want her to be.’
Gogo laughed a little, amused,
tinkling laugh and shook hei’ head.
“You’ve got it bad, haven’t you,
darlin? But you’ll get over it soon.
You’re going to be a great star, and
some day you’ll want a woman
who can help you. Not an ordinary
little thing who can’t do anything
but be a millstane around your
neck.”
Before Tex could answer she
jumped up and blew him a kiss. “Be
seein’ you, darling. I must change.
Think it over.”
She was gone in a flash. Tex
looked at the closed door with a
worried frown.
A Visit to Gogo
A moment later Smoky was told
by the doorman that Miss La Maire
would like to see her in the star’s
dressing room, Torchy shook her
head darkly: “I knew it! Are you
going?”
Smoky had grown a little pale.
“I—<1 guess I’d better,” she swallow
ed nervously. “Maybe she wants to
offer her sympathy or something.”
“Oh sure! Little sweetness and
light Le Maire. She’s full of the
milk of human kindness.”
When Smoky knocked at the door
with the big stai’ on it, Snooky, Go-
go’s maid answered it.
“You may go, Snooky,” Miss Le
Maire said grandly, and the colored
woman went down the hall.
The star did not ask Smoky to
sit down. Smoky stood looking at
her uncertainly. Gogo ran a pow
der puff over her nose for a few
seconds, then she turned from the
mirror and wasted no time in get
ting to the point.
“I sent for you to tell you not to
go in the West number,” she said
regally. “I won’t have my part cut
and a chorus girl put in my place.
Your husband doesn’t want you in
it, either. So I guess that makes it
unanimous.”
CHAPTER XX
Gogo’s air of superiority was the
one thing that helped Shamrock to
get her bearings. She paused, look
ed at Smoky as though she were the
dirt under her famous little feet.
Auger loosened Smoky's tongue.
“I don’t believe my husband said
he doesn’t want me in the West
number,” Smoky's eyes flashed.
“My dear,” smiled Gogo coolly,
“do you think I care whether you
believe it or not? He said ho would
not have minded having a wife for
a stooge if she had any talent. But
that it is embarrassing to him to
have you put in the number just
because Melvin thinks it’ll be good
publicity for him.”
Dressing-Room Argu mon t
Smoky wanted to slap the blond
"You’re not fooling me, Miss Le
Maire. It's no secret to everybody
in the show that you’re making a
play for Tex.”
Gogo’s eyes narrowed. “If I want
ed him,” she smiled, “I’d get him.
But that’s neither here nor there.
I’m not going to let you ruin that
number. It’s the best one he has.
Your’s the worst dancer in the
Ginger Snaps, and you can’t sing.
If you really care anything about
Tex’s career, you’ll tell Melvin you
don’t want to do the number.”
“Well, I won’t,’ Smoky’s chin shot
out stubbornly.
“Oh,” Gogo dropped her regal
cloak and her face colored with an
ger. “So you’re going to be like
that, are you?”
“Just like that!” Smoky snapped
“Just because you’ve got a crush
on my husband don’t you think you
can kick me around. I’m not afraid
of you!”
Le Maire was amazed at the im
pertinence of the chorus girl. “I’m
afraid you don’t quite realize to
whom you are speaking,” the star
drew herself up regally again.
“I’m not speaking to a lady, I’m
sure of that.” Smoky was fighting-
mad by that time.
Gogo jumped up, crazy with anger
and grabbed the jar of cold cream
But before she could throw it, there
was a loud knock on the door.
Tex to the Rescue
It was Tex. He looked from the
wild-eyed star to Smoky in astonish
ment “What’s going on here?” he
put an arm around Smoky and saw
that she was trembling. “I was told
you had sent for any wife, Miss Le
Maire?”
“Get her out of here,” Gogo said
between clinched teeth. “She can’t
come in here threatening me because
she’s jealous of you. I won’t have
it.”“You lie!” Smoky said quietly,
grateful for Tex’s strong arm hold
ing her.
Tex said soothingly:
“Now calm yourself, Smoky. Af
ter all, this isn’t a matter for u£
to settle, Miss Le Maire. It’s up to
Melvin to cast the show the way he
wants it.”
“Get her out of here.” Le Maire
looked as though she could commit
murder.” Before I break hei’ neck.”
“Offe thing I must ask, Miss Le
Maire,” Tex said stiffly. “That you
don’t annoy my wife again. You’d no
right to send for her to come to your
dressing room. She has just buried
her father and I won’t have her
worried.”
“Aren’t you noble?" Gogo sneer
ed, crazy with rage that Tex would
embarrass her before a chorus girl.
“I don’t imagine it’ll be long until
you’re back with the cows and
horses, you big, ignorant cow punch
er!” <
Comfort for Smoky
Tex did not answer her. He had
Smoky from the dressing room and
Gogo banged the door behind them
until it shook the theatre.
Down the hall Tex kissed Smoky
quickly and forced a smile. “Don’t
let it get you down, darling. Melvin
will handle her. Just keep out of
her way and don’t tell anybody
about it.”
Shamrock nodded; choking back
tears, and reached up and kissed
his cheek. “I—won’t worry, Tex.
Not as long as I have you to fight
for me. You were wonderful.”
“Tell me more about that later,”
Tex kissed the top of her head.
Going home Tex refused to talk
about what Le Maire might do or
to go over the hectic events of the
evening. When they reached the
house he held her close in the dark
before they turned on the lights and
begged against her mouth: “Forget
it, sweetheart. Forget everything
but that I’m here and that I love
you.”
She was so grateful to him for
his kindness through the dark days
and for the way he had defended
her before Gogo Le Maire. For a
little while she almost forgot why
she had married him.
His strong arms were a haven and
she was like a very tired and be
wildered child. After Tex had fallen
asleep she lay looking at him in the
dim light from the street and sud
denly she had an irrestible mater
nal desire, to kiss the dark lock of
hair that had fallen over his fore
head.
A Kiss in the Dark
She pushed the lock back ten
derly and tears came to her eyes.
What would be the end of her
strange marriage she wondered?
Tex knew she had married him
for a reason and that she did not
love him. How long would he be
satisfied with a wife who submitted
to his caresses in payment of a debt
she felt she owed him because he
Blonde, .petite Hope Manning, whose glorious voice is known to
millions of radio fans, found peaceful relaxation at Banff in the
Canadian Rockies between singing engagements. The Columbia
singing star, who is seen here at the famous open-air sulphur pool
at the Banff Springs Hotel, traveled through Canada on her way
east to St. Louis where she was to start a month with the famous
“Muny” Operas. She had just completed an engagement with John
Charles Thomas and the Los Angeles Light Opera.
had married her when she begged
him to?
Sympathy for hei’ would cause
him to be kind for a little while. He
was sorry for her because her father
had died. And because he was a
gentleman, he had even risked his
job in Snapshots to defend her
against the celebrated Le Maire. No
doubt the star could easily get him
fired if she demanded it.
What would happen if some day
Tex found out she had married him
only to spite Karl Hetrick? And
because she thought he would be
famous some day?
Smoky had been so sure it would
never matter to her what she did
to any man after what Karl had
done\to her. But now she wasn’t
so sure. Finally she fell asleep,
with her head against Tex’s shoul
der.
In the early morning hours Dagne
Hetrick died. Karl’s son died with
her.
Tex and Smoky ate a late break
fast and when they had finished
Tex got up and told Smoky he was
going for a walk. She thought it
strange he didn’t ask her to go
along, but decided it was best not
to suggest it.
More Trouble Ahead
When Tex came down stairs he
was in his cowboy habit, boots and
spurs. “I’ll be back in a couple of
hours, darling,” he kissed her light-
Jy and walked to the door.o “You’re not going over to see
about that Le Maire business, are
you?” she asked, suddenly suspic
ious.
He shook his head: “No ma'am,”
Birthday Cards for every member
Of the family
Thank You; Going Away;
Wedding Anniversary; Sympathy;
/
Friendship; Convalescent; Gift
Enclosure; Baby Congratulations;
Birth Announcement.
he said in his cowboy drawl. “This
is secret business. Mrs. Stacy. And
don’t you go follerin’ me. Be ready
to go to rehearsal at ;2 o’clock.”
It was an hour later that Smoky
received word that her husband was
in St. Agues’ Hospital. He had been
thrown from a horse and badly in
jured at the Smith Riding Academy.
CHAPTER XXI
The riding academy was a few
blocks away. .Smoky had knowns Joe
Smith, the riding master, since she
was a little girl. She hastened there
when she got word that Tex had
been hurt.
When 'Shamrock’s cab stopped at
the hospital, Joe was standing on
the steps.
“What happened, Joe?” she ran
to him. “Where’s Tex?”
Joe took her arm. “Steady, kid,”
lie was very pale. “I guess he’s in
the operating room. The doctor said
I was to wait downstairs in the wait
ing room with you until they send
word.”
“I—is he badly hurt?” Smoky’,s
chin trembled.
“Oh, he’ll be all right,” Joe evad
ed. “But he got a .pretty bad fall.”
“Tex—fell from a horse?” Smoky
asked bewildered. ‘I—don’t under
stand. He was brought up on a
ranch in Texas."
(To be Continued)
Farmer: “Do you guarantee this
clover seed?" Merchant: “I should
say so! If this seed doesn’t come,
up, you bring it back and we will
refund your money!" -
Are you a “high-brow"? Or do
you, like me, enjoy Wagner because
he makes lots of noise with brass
instruments? The next question
that follows — very naturally, it
seems to me — is, “Do you know
how to act at a classical concert or
a recital?
And the answer, as it seems to he
to so many questions, is—-“It all
depends”!
Now I have only attended two
“classical concerts” in my life. One
was to heai' Bronislaw Hubernian
tear an audience apart with a bow
against strings, and the other to
hear Vladimir Horowitz fill the vast
cubic content of Toronto’s Massey
Hall with sounds loud and low, airy
and percussive, .-grave and gay.
On each occasion the behaviour
of the audience was vastly differ
ent.
Like all newspapermen who find,
themselves in an unfamiliar atmos
phere I relied upon watching the
audience accustomed to this sort of
thing as a guide to my own behav
iour. On each occasion, being en
tirely unversed in matters musical,
my applause followed by a split sec
ond that of those who knbw the
music—for the simple reason that
I feared to start clapping my hands
during a long rest.
Those two audiences had the clas
sic resemblance—or lack of it—at
tributed to chalk and cheese.
The Hoberman concert was given
in a very up-to-date hall in the new
er part of Jerusalem. The audience
was composed mainly of earnest
young refugees from all parts of
Europe. That was six years ago.
So far as I was concerned the mat
ter of behaviour was simple. I was
taken to the concert by the High
Commissioner along with the rest
of the house guests at Government
House. Every-one stood as His Ex
cellency and the party entered the
hall. Huberman began his program
only after he had threatened the
audience that he would not play
unless they ceased their political
clamouring.
Policital clamour at a recital?
Yes! raised by “grateful refugees
who demanded that the Chairman’s
announcement of a forthcoming ben
efit performance for their fellows
left at home should be made in
Hebrew first and English after
wards.-
Now in Toronto, on the other hand
it was not necessary for the out
standing pianist to threaten his
audience. Decidedly not. Toronto
music lovers—and their husbands—
know too well what is expected of
them to lift their voices when an
artiste is on the platform. But Hor
owitz did. find it necessary to fix a
baleful glare upon his audience be
fore each number to quell the cough-
ers!
When it came to the, actual play
ing there was no difference to be
found in the two audiences. Rapt
attention held them spell bound. At
least it looked like rapt attention,
to me. Maybe, as in my case, it
was a combination of fascination
with the rapidly flashing hands of
the artiste and the effect of the
music. In my 'case, of course, I
didn’t “understand” the music at
all—I just liked it. And I mean,
low-brow that I am, that I really
liked it even thouh there wasn’t a
tune I could carry away in my head
and whistle under the shower the
next morning.
And T didn’t cough once.
Why do people cough? Why do
they find it impossible to quell their
bellows when they are in church,
or the movies, or at a concert?
They can control coughs all right
when they are eavesdropping on a
party line or listening to an indis
creet pah’ of matrons on a streetcar.
And, comparing the occasions upon
which they cough uncontrollably,
why is it that the control seems to
improve with the cost of the ticket?
In church, for instance, if the cough
comes in the long prayer or the
sermon it’s just too bad. In a
movie, where money has been paid,
the cough is generally suppressed
while interesting or important line
is being spoken. And in a concert,
the highest of all in price, it is sav
ed for the intervals between num
bers and dies quickest where the
artiste appears most bothered by it.
This has nothing to do with
coughts, or audiences, or concert
artistes but I suppose it was assoc
iation of ideas that brought it into
my head. When I was a good deal
younger my grandmother had a
favorite recipe for a cough. It was
a favorite of mine too . . . Black
currant jam. Grandma used to give
us spoonfuls (or, do you prefer
spoonsful) of it when we started to
cough. Perhaps we" have all been
overlooking something, for just this
morning in a “Women’s Page”
feature—I do read the strangest
things—I came upon a little piece
about Esthonia.
Esthonia, according to the latest
authentic map of Europe, is just
across the gulf from Finland, and
in Esthonia, according to this article
they put blackcurrant jam in their
tea. What the reason is, the article
did not advance. The statement
was made and the writer wisely let
ft go at that. . She did amplify the
bald statement to the effect that
when • an Estlionlan hostess offers J
tea to a guest she doesn’t say: “milk
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or lemon?” as some of us do. She
says although it probably sounds
very different in Esthonian, “lemon
or jam?”
Well, it all depends, I suppose.
I like tea, I like blackcurrant jam.
I like breat cut rather thick, smoth
ered with butter, with huge dollops
of blackcurrant Jam on top of that,
and I like tea along with it. To
make this confession complete I
should say that I like the tea to be
a good black variety with milk and
one lump of sugar in the first clip
—no sugar in the second and sub
sequent cups. But I don’t know if
I would like, it clear with black
currant-jam In it. .
I suppose the only thing to do is
to try It.
Well, the Initials Are the Same
Mr, and Mrs. Woodrow Wilson
Jones announce the birth of a seven
and a half pound son - he has been
named Wendell Wilkie Jones.