The Exeter Times-Advocate, 1943-12-02, Page 7THE TIMES-ADVOCATE, EXETER QNTA1UO, THURSDAY MORNING, DECEMBER 2nd, 1M3 Fago ?
The banner had proved a nui
sance from the start, confessed
Toni, now well launched on the re
cital of her grievance. In the first
place it had been packed in the
back of the truck ana the driver
refused to haul it out until he deliv
ered the banners nearer the doors.
“It was one of those long, stream
er t effects,” Toni recounted, “and
the women were to hold it in front
of them as they inarched. I wish
you could liaye seen them! Most
of them wore big hats—heaven
knows why—and of course it was a
nasty, windy day—you remember?
So they clutched their hats’ with
one hand and the banner with the
other and every time an extra
heavy gust came, they grabbed
their skirts with their banner hands
so that instead of marching they
did a kind of skip and hop,”
Sarah protested. “You're mak
ing this up. Who wears a large
hat with a uniform?”
Uniforms, unfitted, cost around
thirty dollars and few of the wom
en had bought them, Toni disclosed.
They were waiting to see if they
remained in the OCD. “A couple
resign every day or so, after a row.
But more come in. I tell them that
not everyone can be an executive
type and that if they’re really in
terested in serving for defense
they’ll put petty jealousy behind
them.”
“You’re an executive?”
She had been in the movement
from the start, Toni retorted proud
ly. “I’d like to see any woman who
relies on her social connections to
land her a key position, shove me
around. Some of the girls coming
into the work now don’t want to do
anything but drive officers around
I tell them to leave that to us older
women who have more poise—
there’s plenty of clerical work the
kids can do.”
“About the parade?” said Sarah.
“Oh—why, we got started, final
ly, but my thirty couldn’t keep in
line, let alone in step.” She had
lined them up in five rows, six
abreast, Toni related, with the ban
ner held by the first row. “I led
them, marching alone. The first
time I looked around at them they
"were so far apart that the outside
women were walking in the gut
ters. So I motioned to them to
close in and all they did was to
nod and smile—they thought I was
praising them.1’
After that the afternoon had been
a succession of disasters, Toni
groaned, she could sympathize with
the generals who had rookies ’ to
command. Several of her women
marchers had worn high heels and
they soon limped. When she finally
succeeded in persuading the ranks
to close up, they “shut up like ac-
cordian pleats and couldn’t be pried
apart again.” But the worst mo
ment had been before the review
ing stand.
“The mayor and his staff were
on the City Hall ^teps as we came
around the corner. I looked back
to make sure the banner wasn’t be
ing held upside down—it had started
off that way. Well, heavenly days,
every woman in my unit was a
block behind—not one of them any
where near me. I didn’t know
what to do—drop out, wait for them,
or march ahead. I kept marching
.and I must have looked like a fool.
Picture me passing the reviewing
stand all by myself! I went home
after that and no one knows what
became of the banner. We paid
plenty for it, too.”
This is not the time for unseemly
mirth. Sarah admonished herself,
but she could not torbear asking,
“Do you think it necessary for
women to parade?”
“Well, I certainly do,” Toni bris
tled. “Lots of women would never
know about our work if we stayed
in a chimney corner and drooped.
Besides, there’s such a thing as
inspiration, you know—a good band
and snappy marchers are attrac
tive, They draw recruits.”
“Don’t forget the uniforms,” Sar
ah murmured.
Uniforms improved morale, Toni
insisted, they conferred a feeling
of importance on the wearer. “Our
main trouble is that everyone ap
plying now is determined to be an
executive -— from the beginning
we’ve been swamped with natural-
born leaders and no one will admit
she’s willing to take orders . The
younger crowd thinks that a long
bob and a twenty-four inch waist
entitle them to a place right out In
front.”
She thought so herself, Sarah
said, duty might be more attractive
if pleasant to contemplate.
“The OCD doesn’t happen to be
a musical comedy,” Toni reproved
sharply, “If you were a little more
interested in defense work’ you
wouldn't be so ready to make wise
cracks.”
With Zither to help, Candace
Thane declared, the Thanksgiving
dinner would be easy to get.
They were short of chairs, Andy
reminded her, “Why don’t we go
out to dinner, just you and I? No
bother, no fuss and you save your
strength and time.”
Candace refused to consider such
a plan. Their first Thanksgiving,
she said, meant too much. She
wanted to have dinner in their own
home, she was determined they
should have guests. “I want to do
all the things women for genera
tions have done to get ready for
Thanksgiving. We’ll have two kinds
of pie, shall we, and let’s ask Mrs.
Daffodil for her recipe for stuff
ing a turkey.”
“I know what you want,” Andy
said. “You want something to re
member.”
For the Thanes the question of
whom to invite to their first Thanks
giving dinner revolved around such
details as the number of chairs
available, the etiquette of piecing
out their supply of silver by borrow
ing and the amount of money in the
budget envelope marked “Margin.”
They decided that six at table must
be the maximum number to avoid
overcrowding, and that they must
manage to seat eight for the simple
reason that they wanted to ask
three couples instead of two.
“We’ll have Leila and Kurt, of
course,” Candace checked. “Leila
won’t be happy with or without Kurt
if she has dinner with her rela
tives. They might go to a restau
rant, but that’s dull. They can get
a restaurant dinner any day in the
week.” Andy suggested that they
invite Minnie Davis and Halsey
Kenneth. “The poor guy won’t be
very gay, but at least he’ll be
glooming among friends. Between
watching his father’s business evap
orating like moth balls and nor
knowing when, Minnie will give him
the air, he’s in a fine state. What
he needs is to be allowed to watch
me carve the turkey — if that
doesn’t settle his nerves, nothing
will.”
She wasn’t sure that she could
endure the spectacle herself, Can
dace demurred, but everything was
handy in the first-aid kit. “Andy,
there’s a girl at the office I’d like
to ask. Muriel Wright—she’s mar
ried to an English soldier—a Ca-
dian—and he’s here on leave.
Muriel has only one room and a
gas plate. He may not get another
leave for ages—”
“The honor of the presence of
Mr. and Mrs. Wright is requested,”
Andy recited. “Let’s turn off the
heat and have a fire in the fire
place. Have we eight highball
glasses?”
They spent their evenings indus
triously polishing silver, washing
china and altering the menu and
the list of supplies to be bought.
To their consternation a fair share
of the mishaps they had optimisti
cally regarded as gags in the comic
strips befell them, from the over
flow of cooked rice to the collapse
of Andy, tray-laden, on the highly
polished floor.
The . reason for waxing floors,
simply because of guests coming
for dinner, puzzled him long after
he had painted his abrasions with
an antiseptic and had picked the
fragments of broken china from
the crumpled rug,
The floors were more slippery
than she had intended, Candace
confessed. “We tried a new wax
and it’s wonderful, only you get so
interested in swabbing that the first
thing you know you’ve got a danc
ing floor,”
“You be careful you don’t go on
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your ear,” Andy warned, “Don’t
trust the rugs, either-—a rug let me
down,”
He still didn’t understand, Andy
expostulated, why so much had to
be done that had no connection
with the’ dinner. “Do you honestly
believe all this flurry is neces
sary? Are you doing it because you
like to fuss, or to impress our
company?” Andy drew his dark
brows together, “Do you mean to
tell me,” he demanded, diligently
rubbing the spoon, “that all women
everywhere act like this when
they’re expecting six people to
dine?”
His wife nodded, It didn’t make
sense, she soothed him, perhaps it
was quite true that many of the
tasks she had Zither perform, or
helped her to perform, would pass
unnoticed and in any case would
not compensate if the dinner failed.
“But I do think, Andy,” maintained
the,, clear voice, “that everyone is
more at ease in a house that is
clean and in order. Not stiff, mind
you, but livably neat. It’s more a
feeling than a matter of actual vi
sion, or perhaps it is only that the
hostess is more relaxed if she
knows her house' is clean.”
♦ * *
The cash grocery store, Sarah
Daffodil reflected, might lack the
props of the old-time general store
and might operate on a shorter
day, but its atmosphere, clientele
and social advantages, with some
allowance for general - alterations,
remained essentially unchanged.
Tonight as she waited in the
background of the late shoppers she
saw most of her tenants in the
group pressing purposefully up
against the counters. King Waters
was buying meat, Toni Fitts stood
counting oranges into a bag. Be
fore the dairy counter Mr. and Mrs.
Peppercorn, Doggie tucked secure
ly under the old man’s ’arm,
watched the scales as the cerk cut
a pound of tub butter for them.
“Awful, trying to get waited on,
isn’t it?” Toni Fitts had spied Sar
ah. “I’m having soup and orange
salad tonight, nothing else. It’s so
hard to keep food from accumulat
ing, but we’re going away for
Thanksgiving — down to Atlantic
City. Bert’s taking me for a rest.”
She had been working day and
night, she asserted, trying to be
fair to every organization, anxious
to do her best for each. “And
fancy, they want us to ask some of
the Service men for Thanksgiving
dinner. Selectees from camp. I
simply couldn’t undertake another
thing and Bert put his foot down.”
It’s a good story, if one can
imagine Bert Fitts putting his foot
down, Sarah reflected, I can’t.
“Hello, Mr. Waters—you’re luckier
than I am, for you’re on your way
out.”
King Waters removed his hat,
smiled mechanically. ‘^Thanksgiv
ing rush, I guess. I hope you’re
planning a pleasant day, Mrs. Daf
fodil. My wife and I are dining
with an old friend of mine—a buddy
who saw service abroad with- me.”
“Yes, I think of good old Bar
rows, every time I see the war
nows,” King Waters was saying
briskly. “He’s in the Reserve and
likely to be called, if things get
any more serious. I had lunch with
Barrows last week and he said he
didn’t know how the Government
could use him—he has fallen arches,
sinus trouble, his arteries are In
bad shape and he has been out of
active business for several years.
But he said to me, ‘King, if Uncle
Sam needs me, if my country calls,
I’ll go.’ I suppose he’ll get a desk
job in Washington and release a
younger man for field service. The
salary,” Waters added contempla
tively, “would be a godsend to
him.”
She couldn’t help wondering, Sar
ah murmured knowing that she had
no business to wonder, if it wasn’t a
reserve officers patriotic duty to
keep himself in good physical
shape. “He’d be more of an asset
if he were halfway fit.”
No one could expect a veteran to
be as resilient as a younger man,
Waters reproved. Physical deteri
oration wasn’t serious, where the
mind remained unimpaired. “Bar
rows won’t have to endure long
marches or be under fire—it’s the
youngsters* turn to undergo all that.
We served our time at it.”
As she watched him make his
way to the door, Sarah told herself
that she undertsood how such com
placency drove younger people to
profane and rude retorts,
Sarah Daffodil considered the
question of Waiting on herself to
save the clerk’s time, but the Pep
percorn’s were coming toward her,
all smiles. Doggie’s tail wagged in
friendly greeting, too,
“The store looks so nice!” Old
Mrs. Peppercorn beamed. Her black
coat, cut full like a cape,, seemed
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to weigh her down and its hem al
most touched the floor. She went
on to say that she loved to smell
the freshly ground coffee and to
see the bright colors of the oranges
and lemons, the bunches of yellow
bananas, the mountains of polished
apples. “It makes you hungry for
Thanksgiving dinner,” she said.
Their Thanksgiving? Oh, yes,
they were invited out, she replied
happily, answering Sarah’s ques
tion. Hen, the junkman, had prom
ised to provide a complete dinner
for the family he had befriended
and who occupied the second floor
of his house still.
“They get along,” chimed in old
Mr. Peppercorn, “but they don’t
have many luxuries, that’s to be
expected. Hen has no family of his
own and he got the idea that he’d
like to get up a turkey dinner with
all the fixings. Mother and me are
going down to his house to cook it.
He’s got a right nice kitchen down
there, gas stove and all. You’d be
surprised to see how handy he is
at housekeeping, though of course a
real Thanksgiving dinner is a lit
tle too much for him to tackle all
alone.”
Zither, when she came at onei
o’clock Thanksgiving Day, reported
that the wind was raw and felt like
snow. She still disliked to answer
bell or to speak to strangers, but
now that she had accustomed her
self to the Thanes, she sometimes
talked a good deal while she
worked. One had' to listen atten
tively to hear her, for she spoke
faintly and unless she faced her
listeners many of her words, as
Andy complained, seemed to fall
back into her throat. If she had
something to say, she was likely
to say it whether she had auditors
or not, but this, Candace insisted,
should not be regarded as talking
to herself.
“If no one’s there and she starts
a conversation, who’s she talking
to if she isn’t talking to herself?”
Andy not unreasonably demanded.
She couldn’t explain it properly,
Candace informed him, but it was
not the same as talking to oneself.
“It’s different. You needn’t hoot—
what I mean is that if Zither talks
she’s talking to me, whether I’m
there or not. It’s the way she talks
at home, I think—whenever she
has something to say she says it
and takes a chance that someone
will hear her say it. You get the
impression that she isn’t terribly
important in her auntie’s house
hold, even if she does help finance
it.”
To Candace there was something
pathetic in the colored girl’s ad
miration of the pretty, convenient
kitchen and the simple furnishings
of the other rooms. Zither was
as eager, too, today for the din
ner to be a success as the young
host and hostess whose anxiety
she shared. I couldn’t do’ all this
for someone else, not unless I had
something of my own to go home to,
Candace thought watching Zither’s
absorbed face as she counted out
the dessert plates.
Leila Orton and Kurt Mermann
arrived first because Kurt, Leila
said, was still on daylight saving
time. “Ho liked it last Summer and
he sees no reason for ever chang
ing anything he once liked.”
Thinner and more beautiful than
ever, Leila in hef almond-green
sweater and matching skirt looked
Andy told her appreciatively, like
an endorsement for a cold cream
advertisement. She wore her thick
hair parted in the centre and knot
ted low oil her neck. Kurt, she re
marked casually* hated a fussy
hair-do.
(To Be Continued)
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WE CAN HELP
AVOID RATIONING
If no pne ever buys more than
they really need chances are
we can avoid rationingin many
lines. And that is a great help
to the war effort since each
new commodity rationed
means more people taken out
of productive work to look
after the job of rationing it.
Let’s not buy anything we can
do without.
JOHN LABATT LIMITED
London Canada
Fatal Motor Crash Blamed on Weather
The automobile collision in No.
22 Highway just north of London
in November 13 last, which re
sulted in injuries to Gilbert C.
Freckelton, 55 of Port Elgin, from
which he died in St. Joseph’s Hos
pital several days later, was “an
accident, due to weather condi
tions,” a coroner's jury sitting
under Coroner Dr. P. J. Sweeney
decided Wednesday, Nov. 24th.
Mr. Freckleton, his wife and
grandchild were passengers in a
southbound car which collided with
one driven in the opposite direc
tion by Hylard Oake, of 113S
Clarence St., London, who had as
a passenger a soldier hitch-hiker.
Evidence given by witnesses at
the inquest, including Mr. Oake,
went to show that the Oake car
had slipped off the right side of the
pavement on to the graveled shoul
der of the road, and in being steer
ed back to the paved section had
got SO' far to the west side of the
highway that it came into the path
of the southbound car. Both Mr,
Oake and his passenger swore they
were driving slowly. Evidence was
also given that it was snowing light
ly. at the time, and had been snow
ing more heavily. Constable Harry
Lemon, of the provincial police,
testified that the pavement was wet
from intermitent snowflurries.
All five occupants of the car in
volved suffered greater or less in
juries. At the inquest, evidence of
ownership of the car driven by Mr.
Freckleton was given by Capt.
Lloyd Freckleton, late R.A.F., now
a civilian air force instructor, who
flew from Nassau, the Bahamas,
at the time of his father’s death.
Capt. Freckleton said the car was
his; he added that his mother was
still in hospital recovering from
injuries. The child involved Was
his niece.
A. B. Siskind represented Mr.
Oake, while witnesses were exam
ined by Crown Attorney C .C.
Savage.
At Present We
Are Short on most
Every Line of
Stock.
YOUR INQUIRIES WILL
STILL BE APPRECIATED
A. J. CLATWORTHY
We Deliver
Phone 12 Grantoir
Nominations
The entire slate of officers for
Hensall have been elected by ac
clamation. There will be contests
in a number of neighbouring muni
cipalities. Following is a list cf
nominees who have qualified for
office following nominations on
Friday last.
Hensall
Reeve—R‘. E. Shaddick (accl.,
eighth term).
Council — Edward Pink, Fred
Smallacombe, Alvin Kerslake, Jas.
Parkins (accls.).
School Trustees—C. Passmore,
P. McNaughton, A. Clark (accls.).
Hydro Commission — Thomas
Welsh (accl.).
Parkhill
Mayor — Thomas Browning, Mar
shall Box.
Reeve — Fred Barrett, William
Ross.
Council — James Orr, Charles
Potter, William Sturdvant, I. C.
Goodhand, Edgar Robinson, Calvin
Elson (accls.).
Bayfield
Trustees — William Ferguson,
Leslie Elliott, James Robinson
(accls.).
Blyth
Reeve—W. H, Morritt (accl.).
Council (four to be elected) —
Frank Daindon, Howard Vodden, A.
L. Kernick, Lome Scinceour, Her
bert Dexter, Emerson Wright.
School Board — William Mills,
James Armstrong, A. J. Glass
(accls.)
P.U.C.—A. W. P. Smith (accl.).
Ashfield
Howick
Reeve—David Weir (accl.).
Deputy Reeve—J. Inglis (accl.).
Council — R. Winter, J. McCal
lum, E. Farrish (accls.)
Hullet
Reeve—John Armstrong, George
Brown, Ira Rapson.
Council — William J. Dale? Wil
liam Jewitt, Victor Kennedy.
Another nomination will be re
quired to complete council to four
members.
Turnberry
Reeve—Harold Moffatt (accl.).
Council — Roy Porter, James
Breckenridge, John Fisher, Percy
King (accls.)
Wawanosh East
Reeve—J. D. Beecroft (accl.).
Council —• Norman McDowell,
Harvey Black, Lewis Ruddy, Alex
Robertson (.accls.).
Wawanosh West
Reeve — Broan Smith (accl,).
Council — Everett, Finnigan,
Gordon McPherson, Wallace Miller.
David McAllister (accls.).
Ailsa Craig
Council — N. S. McMillian, Fred
J. McLeod, N. M. Wiley, D. A. Mc
Intyre (accls.).
GRANTON COUPLE
CELEBRATE GOLDEN WEDDING
Mr. and Mrs. George Fewster, of
Granton, celebrated their 50th wed
ding anniversary at their home,
where their family visited, them.
It was in the year 1893 that Rev.
Mr. Ferguson, Methodist Church
minister of Granton, united in mar
riage Keturah Anne Duffield, daugh
ter of the late Mr. and Mrs. Thomas
Duffield, of Blanshard Township, to
George A. Fewster, son of the late
Mr. and Mrs. James Fewster, of
the" same township.
Mr. and Mrs. Fewster resided
for a short time at Anderson ’be
fore moving to Granton, where
they had lived for the past 45
years. They have two daughters,
Mrs. Henry, of Flesherton; and.
Mrs. Cecil Evans, of London; and
also three grandchildren, Bill and
Kenneth Henry and LAC. Hugh
Evans, West Coast. Both Mr. and
Mrs. Fewster are enjoying good,
health.
Tho Want Ads are your depart
ment.—Use them.
A new line of Goutts’ famous cards
Reeve—Gilbert Frayne (accl.).
Council — .Fred Anderson, Cecil
Johnston, Lome Johnston, Neil J.
McKenzie (accls.).
'For the first time in the history
of this township, Ashfield will have
no deputy reeve, as the population
has fallen below the 1,000 mark.
Colborno
Reeve—Alec Watson (accl.)
Council—William Clarke, James
Reagan, Stanley Snider, Ross Fish
er (’accls.).
Goderich Township
Reeve—Ben Rathwell (accl.).
Council — Robert Smith, James
Stirling, George Ginn, Gordon Orr
(acct),
Do not delay in making your selection of Christmas Cards.
We feel that this is the widest and finest display that we
have yet been able to offer you.
At the Times-Advocate you will find hundreds of cards to
select from — beautiful etchings snow scenes, marine scenes,
old-fashioned Christinas scenes, English prints, religious
cards, quotations, humorous cards and numerous assortments*
We Have a Fine Selection of Cards for the Airforce