The Exeter Times-Advocate, 1944-09-07, Page 7THE TIMES-ADVOCATE, EXETER ONTARIO, THURSDAY MORNING, SEPTEMBER 7, 1944 f Page T
• A Gay New Serial
Xove &)hom you please
by Ahlene Fitch
chapter ix
‘‘You’re a dirty low coward,” she
told him evenly, ‘‘You’re willing to
take a few moments of happiness
even if you have to buy it with
somebody else’s lifetime of content
ment. That's the kind of a fellow
you are!”
“Wheel” He eyed her momen
tarily and a smile spread over his
thin dark face. “You are a spit
fire! And, say, you’re darned good
looking, too, for all you’re just a
babe in arms,” He put an arm on
her shoulder, but she shook it off.
“Goodbye,” she said, and walked
from his office, slamming the door
behind her.
“Where is Katherine?” Winnie
asked the question of Jack, who sat
now on the edge of the easy chair
which he had occupied for days.
“Gone out for the evening, I
guess.” He glanced first out of the
window at the darkness beyond and
then back up at his wife He made
a move as though to speak. Then,
changing his mind, he toyed nerv
ously with the leg of his lounging
pajamas.
“Restless, dear?”
“No.” And then suddenly, “Yes,
I am. I’m going to dress this even
ing.”
“But why this late in the day?
It’s after 8 o’clock—soon time for
you to go to bed.”
“Eight o’clock already?” He
jumped up quickly. “Tell you when
I’m dressed, he explained. He stood
up, walked over to Winnie and put
both arms about her. “You're a
brick,” he told her, and his voice
trembled a little. “The swellest lit
tle woman that ever lived.”
“It’s nice of you to say so.”
Somehow tonight she did not feel
like caresses. She hadn’t felt like it
for days. The weight in her heart
the nameless weight—had grown
heavier with the passing hours. She
couldn’t explain it—she wouldn’t
even acknowledge its presence—but
it was there.
When the pounding started on
the door she started. Then she went
to 41et ’in the caller. It was August
Stall.
“Jack here?” he asked, and in
his voice there was fire. Then he
spied the younger man. “Look here
doc!” he ejaculated. “I’ve come
over to make a demand of you—a
demand that you’re going to satisfy
too!”
“What is it, Stall? Anything that
I can do I’ll be glad—”
“You can do this, all right! Or
you can stop doing it, whichever it
is. What I’m demanding is this:
You’re to let my little girl, Kathy,
go this minute. I don’t want her
around you any longer!”
“I don’t beleive I understand
you, Stall,” Straight and tall,
Jack stood before him and looked
at him squarely. “You know well
enough what /I mean!” Stall’s
shaking, accusing finger missed
Jack’s nose by inches. “And you,
too, Mrs. Castler! Unless you’re
blinder than anyone in town! You
both know what I mean! And I
wou’t have my little Kathy’s re
putation ruined.”
Raucously the telephone inter
rupted his vocal fury. Jack left
the room to answer it. Winnie and
August Stall did not talk while he
was gone. Instead they stood in
silence, as though wrapt in that
other conversation.
“Yes,” they heard Jack say. “Yes
I’m coming. Don’t worry.” Then
he repeated it. “Don’t worry.”
Hanging up the receiver, he strode,
back into the room.
“I’ll have to go on a ‘call at
once,” he told Winnie. And to Stall,
“I’m- sorry I can’t finish' hearing
what you have to say. But I must
go.”
“You’re not able!” cried Winnie.
“I’ll go with you.”
“No,” he told her, “You must
stay here, dearest. I’ll be all right.
Back in an hour,”
In less than fifteen minutes he
was dressed, into his coat and hat,
and gone,
“Hmm,” commented Stall, when
the door had closed behind him.
“Medical call, I presume?”
“Of course,” Winnie assured him,
Passionately she wanted him to be
lieve it, even though she doubted
it herself,
“Strange then,” .suggested Stall,
“that he didn’t take his black bag
along,"
“It’s in the car,” she lied, It
wasn’t; it was in his office just
where he had left it when he had
been hurt. She hadn’t thought of
that until now.
“I’m sorry to come here this
way,” apologized the wiry little
lawyer, distress showing on his
face. “But when I heard people
talking I couldn’t stand it. If you
can tolerate an affair* right under
your nose, that’s one thing. But for
my little girl—”
“Please,” asked Winnie, “will
you go now?”
“Look here,” begged Stall ear
nestly. “I didn’t aim to make you
angry with me. I only come telling
the truth. You should be glad to
know it—you of all people. You
shouldn’t get mad at me, Mrs, Cast
ler.”
“I’m not angry,” Winnie told
him. “But you have told me what
you came to tell me. Now if you
will be so kind as to go—” She
walked to the door and held it open
for him. “You must understand,”
she finished, “that I cannot tolerate
having you here talking against my
husband in his absence.”
"But it’s only the truth,” reit
erated Stall.
“I don’t beleive it,” she said
quietly, and closed the door behind
him. Then she went in and lay
down on the bed to weep. But no
tears would come; so she got up
again and commenced darning some
socks for him.
When Hope came in through the
back door she found Winnie bend
ing over the work basket, her
needle flashing viciously in and out
of a worn sock.
“Winnie,” she said, “Larry is
coming over to play cards with me.”
“That will be nice.”
“But I don’t want to play with
him."
“Why not?”
“Just don’t. Will you help me get
rid of him when he comes?”
“Why, Hope, that’s a fine way
to talk about your young man!”
“I know it is; it’s horrid. But
will you?”
“Well, I’ll try. I’ll tell him you
have, a headache and should go to
bed early.”
“Thanks a lot. Winnie?”
“Yes, Hope?”
“Am I homely?”
“Certainly not. You’re a very
attractive young lady. Or you could
be.”
An eager light swept over Hope’s
face and she came up very close to
the older girl.
That’s what I want to know,
Winnie. I could be good-looking
could I?”
“Oh, very good-looking. If you’d
do a few of the things I’m always
suggesting for you to do.”
“Suggest them again, will you,
Winnie? And then I’ll do them,
every one.”
Winnie lay down her darning
and stared up at Hope. “Don’t tell
me," she exclaimed, “that my tom
boy has grown up at last?”
“Oh—I don’t know. I’m 19, you
know. What could I do to be
pretty?”
“Well, now, most girls of 19 take
much more interest in their hair
than you do. As a young lady you
should brush that curly mop of
yours and then fix all the curls into
shining ringlets about your head.
That would be very attractive.”
“Fix my hair,” murmured Hope,
as though to remember it. “Thanks.
And what else?”
“Let me think a moment. How
about clothes? You haven't a lot of
pretty dresses, because you refuse
to wear them when I buy them.
But attractive young ladies aren’t
generally seen in slacks—except
for tennis or such things.”
“Okay., I’ll shed the slacks, then
Winnie.”
“That's another thing, sweet
A
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heart/’ Winnie grinned at her now
with a tender amused smile.
“What?” Hope was profoundly
serious—-deeply wrapped in the
subject.
“Your grammar. You play base
ball with the boys so much that
you have picked up all their slang.
If you’re really intent on being a
lady—”
“I am,” declared Hope, “and I'll
cut out the slang, I mean, I’ll stop
using it. Right now I believe I’ll
run up and give my hair a good
brushing.”
“Anyone home?” It was Larry,
puffing and with shining face, tow
ering angularly in the doorway.
“’Scuse me for bargin’ in, but no
one seemed to hear my gentle
pound. Sorry I’m late, Hope. Got
detained."
“Really,” commenced Winnie
loyally, “Hope should go to bed
early.”
“Yep,” agreed Hope, don’t be
lieve I want to play tonight.” She
glanced meditatively down at her
slacks. “I have some—some other
things* I want to try out, anyway.”
Larry gazed at her, his tall, lean
figure propped against the door
ledge. A crestfallen expression' set
tled on him and he ran his hands
deep into his pockets.
“Well." He shrugged his shoul
ders; trying to appear nonchalant.
“If you don’t, you don't. Guess I
might as well be breezin’ along,
then.”
“Maybe,” suggested Winnie to
Hope, just because he looked so
young and crestfallen and hand
some. “you had better play a game
or two with him, Hope. You sug
gested it in the first place, I be
lieve.”
“Very well,” agreed Hope, her
eyes dreamy, “but don’t expect me
to beat you, Larry. I’m smarter
than you, all right; but I have
really important things to think
about to-night.”
“Really important?” repeated
Larry, as though he understood
well enough that he were not; and
the crestfallen expression did not
quite vanish from his face.
They played on the dining room
table, while Winnie sat near by
and went on with her darning.
Diligently she tried to keep her
mind on their idle conversation;
but try as she would, her thoughts
would not stay there. They would
not stay in the room, where the
lights were bright and warm' and
comforting. Instead, they were out
somewhere — somewhere in the
darkness, hunting for the man she
loved.
Jack. Had he really gone on a
professional call? But surely he
had! He had told her he was going
on one. And he would not lie to her.
Then her heart would cry out pain
fully, “Oh, but he has lied to me!
He has lied to me!”
After that she would force her
mind back on her darning, and re
fuse positively to let her eyes wan
der again to the dark window
beside her. One gained nothing
from staring out of a dark window
—only a broken heart.
“Mrs. Castler,” groaned Larry.
“Oh, Mi’s. Castler, she’s just giving
me all the games!”
“My mind’s not on what I’m do
ing,” Hope told him frankly.
“But don’t you want to beat
me?"
“Oh, 1—I don’t care a whole lot.”
“But, Hope,” he pleaded, “you
always want to beat me at every
thing. That’s why we have such
great times together. That’S why
we’re pals.”
“Pals?” repeated Hope absently,
gazing off into space. “Oh, yes
we’re pals.”
“.Well?” He was half defiant now
and blushing a little. “Aren’t we?”
“Well,” she countered, “we
were.”
“Aren’t we still?”
“I’ll have to warn you,” she told
him suddenly, “that I’m grown up.
I realize that I’m too old for—oh,
for baseball and fishing, and things
like that.”
Winnie and Larry both stared at
her, but she seemed half abstracted
—only half conscious of the sen
sation she was creating.
“No more baseball?” asked
Larry. The game of cards was
forgotten now.
“No more baseball,” she repeated
firmly. “I’m too old for that now.
I’m 19.”
“I’m 20,” he assured her, “and I
still play. And I’ll keep right on
playing, too.”
‘But you’re a man,” she informed
him, “I’m a lady.”
(TO BE CONTINUED)
GRAND BEND
Mrs. Harold Noonan and son,
Ronald, who have been spendins
the past two months at the home of
her mother; Mrs. Harmon Gill,
Lakeview* Hotel, returned to theiy
home in Windsor, on Sunday.
Mr. and Mrs. Ed. Stewart, of
London, have been holidaying at
“Dun "Wurkin” cottage for the past
two weeks. I
Sgt. Harmon Gill, of St. Gather* I
ines, spent the week-end with his>
wife and family at Lakeview Hotel, i
The public school re-opened on
Tuesday after the summer holidays
with a splendid attendance.
Thousands of acres of celery, on
ions, beets and garden land south
of the Pinery is in need of moisture
while some rain has fallen in thq
past two weeks, it has not been
nearly enough. The celery in the
bog land is making slow growth
and unless rainfall comes soon the
fall crop will be almost a total fail
ure, Many fields have already been
destroyed by the dry weather and
prospects are very poor for a good yield. Some growers have ploughed [
their celery land and turned undei’
the uneven rows and prepared the
land for fall crops.
Tourists Urged To Prevent Pires
Special care in the prevention of
fires on the part of those who are
vacationing and preparing to close
up for the season is urged by all
concerned, Now more than ever it
is the patriotic duty of each person
to use extraordinary care in putting
out their cigarette butts and lighted
matches before they are thrown
aw’ay and completely soaking all
camp fire embers and the ground
about the camp fire before leaving.
Fires may occur at any season of
the year.
Camp fires should never be built
near bogs nor any other wood, only
on sand or gravel. It is not safe to
throw lighted matches or tobacco
out of automobile windows along
the highways.
Another reason for the use of
extraordinary care this year* is the
lack of manpower to put out the
fires and the needless desruction of
lumber which is used in re-con
structing the docks.
CROMARTY PICNICKIRKTON WX
The August meeting of the Kirk
ton Women's Institute was held at
the home of Mrs. Andrew Stevens.
The President opened the meeting
with the Ode and Lord’s Prayer in
unison. Mrs, Near read the Scrip
ture followed by one verse of “Blest j
be the Tie." It was decided to have
the September meeting one w’eek
earlier owing to the short course
being held on the regulai* day, Mrs
N. Watson and Mrs. C. Switzer to
make all arrangements for thw
short course, Roll call, naming a
weed and how to destroy it, was
answered by fourteen members,
five visitors were present. Mrs. S
C. Switzer, Convenor of Agricul
ture and Canadian Industries took
charge of the meeting, A splendid
paper on the motto, “Too Much
Rest is Rust”, was given by Mrs, F.
Roger, Papers were also read by
Mrs. M. Dobson, Mrs. Near and Mrs.
S. Switzer. Lovely solos were sung
by Mrs. Harold Tufts and Miss
Ruth Harding. Current events were
given by Mrs. Harding. The meet
ing was brought to a close with the
National Anthem and Mizpah Bene
diction.-
The annual Sunday School picnic
was held at the Lions Park, Sea
forth, with a good, attendance. At
six o’clock supper was served. The
paces were held immediately after.
Results were as follows; children
under six, Patsy Ramsay; girls,
eight and under, Mary McCulloch
and Joyce McLaren; boys, eight
and under, Keith MacDonald, Doug
las MacKellar; girls, 15 and under,
Janette MacKellar and Blanche
McLaren; boys, 15 and under, Ross
MacDonald and Keith MacDonald;
young ladies’ race, May McNaught
on and Hazel Hamilton; young
men’s race, Donald Scott and
Robert Laing; married ladies’ race,
Mrs. Sorsdahl; married men’s race,
Jim Barbour; three-legged race,
Wilma Hamilton and Hazel Ham
ilton; shoe race, mixing, May Mc
Naughton; ankle race, Bob Laing;
pitching softball, Mrs. Sorsdahl;
drinking water, relay, Betty Mac-
Kellar's team; ball and plate relay,
Betty MacKellar’s team.
Medium f “Ah, I hear the spirit
of your late wife knocking,” Man:
“Who’s she knocking now?”
^VEAR. IT ON YOUR ARM
A
See that G.S. badge on his arm? That means he’s
volunteered to fight anywhere in the world.
The Army needs more men like him—men who can take it—men with
the courage to fight, so that their home, their loved ones—everything
they cherish—may be free.
For this War is not over yet—we still have a lot of fighting to do. And
our boys who are fighting over there will need the help of every red-
blooded Canadian who is fit to fight, and willing to fight.
It will take months of thorough training to make you fighting-fit.
That’s why Canada’s Army needs you NO IF—and needs you for
overseas service.
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