HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Wingham Advance-Times, 1937-11-25, Page 6PAGE SIX THE WINGHAM ADVANCE-TIMES Thurs., November 25th, 1937'
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Monty Wallace has just arrived in
California, having broken the East-
West cross country airplane record,
-Natalie Wade, mistaken by him for a
newspaper reporter, writes the ex
clusive account of Monty’s arrival and
succeeds in securing a trial job with
a paper in exchange for the story.
Natalie becomes attached to Monty.
Although she discovers Monty’s
love for her is not sincere, Natalie
admits that she loves him. She is as
signed by her paper to report Monty’s
activities for publication. Jimmy Hale
the newspaper’s photographer, be
comes Natalie’s co-worker.
Natalie interviews Jake Marion, a
wealthy airplane builder, who decides
to build a record-breaking ’round the
world plane for Monty, Marion’s
daughter, Sunny, exquisitely beauti
ful, is attracted to Monty. She invites
Natalie to dine with her, when they
meet the aviator unexpectedly.
Natalie discovers that Sunny is
jealous of her friendship with Monty,
and that she is trying to prevent them
from being, alone. After driving to a
mountain resort with Sunny and Jim
my, Monty again declares his loves
for Natalie.
❖ -l: $ &
Natalie thrilled at the sight. Her
■wild notion had brought success. The
missing fliers were beneath them, ap
parently unhurt, Mont Wallace test
ed the ground-currents cautiously
And then put the ship Into a steep
, -
Withered sandwiches and tepid pop
disappeared like magic before the on
slaught of the two lost pilots, Bar i
and eandy bars helped re
store their morale and their sense of
^iqmor.
They* chattered of their adventure,
.told of the clogged oil line that had
caused them to try a landing and of
the treacherous air current that had
whipped the plane into the ground
and crippled it beyond immediate re
pair.
Natalie drank in the details, Mont;
Wallace studied his maps and mark
ed upon them the nearest seacoast
town that might have a telegraph
line. Arrangements were made for the
two youths to remain where they
were until help had been sent and
then Mont and Natalie took off for
the coast in high triumph. _
At the small Mexican town, Mont
wired the lost fliers’ home airport
and Natalie began writing sheet after
sheet of their story. Getting the news
out was a prodigious task for the
small, black-haired, black-eyed oper
ator had little understanding of Eng
lish and was forced to send the words
almost letter by letter.
Before the task had been complet
ed, radio had sent two planes to land
beside Mont’s ship on the beach be
fore the town. Mont led the rescue
flight and then came back for the
girl.
As they winged their way north
along the coast line of California Bay,
Natalie was happier than she had
ever been before and Mont’s mood
matched hers in gaity.
To their chagrin they found they I overnight trips into the desert with
had
but
port
and
fence of going without lunch.
“We’ll have the biggest dinner
there is on the Pacific coast,” Mont
declared and they planned for the
evening together.
At the airport, they were received
like heroes with Mack Hanion him
self, minus his wide-shade and with
his suspenders hidden under a black
searsucker coat, all but
girl in his enthusiasm.
Jimmy Hale alone
scornfully.
“After all I’ve tried
he reprimanded her; "going off with
out even a kodak. Won’t you ever
learn?”
But she knew that' he was more
pleased than he dared admit.
“I forgot -everything but getting
started,” she told him, “It never oc
curred to me to try for pictures.”
“Well,” the boy chuckled, “I’m go
ing to see that you never go any
where again without taking some
thing along that will bring back a
picture.”
Jabe Marion bore the pair off then
for dinner at his house, and there it
was
nothing to eat or drink aboard
they were determined to make
at the earliest possible moment
decided to forget the inconven-
hugging^ the
greeted her
that Sunny congratulated’ them
I him.”
Natalie’s head went, up then and
she turned to thg business of fresh
ening herself after' the dishevehnent
of the journey. For a long moment
she did not speak. When she did it
was with cold fury.
“When I stoop to the sort of tac
tics you mean, I will have lost not
only my principals but any vestiges
of good sense that may be left to
me. I don’t propose to be anybody®’
pet cat and if I find I have to de
grade myself to make Mont Wallace
love me, I’ll choose rather to be
worthy of his love than have it.”
Sunny laughed unpleasantly.
“That,” she sneered, is a good line
for one of your stories. But you know
and I know that you'd take him on
any terms,”
“Don’t be silly,” Natalie rejoined.
“What you know and I know is that
either of us could have him on his
own terms long before this.”
Sunny broke then. The tears came
and she held out her arms to Natalie.
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, “but I am
so jealous of you sometimes I don’t
know why I have to try to hurt you
for I can’t help being crazy about
you.”
Natalie comforted the girl as
she could. “And do you think
best
I’m
„.Two pigmy figures rushed into a clearing and danced madly ft
with cold reserve enfSrelj' foreign to
her usual volubility.
“I hope you had a nice time,” she
said cuttingly when Natalie and she
were alone together before dinner,
Natalie took her firmly by the
arms.
“Look at me,” she commanded.
“Do I look as though I’d done any
thing I might be ashamed of? Just
because we’re both in love with
Mont Wallace is no reason why we
can’t be decent to each other. I like
you and, when you aren’t thinking
of me as the she-devil who is taking
your man from you, you like me.” .
The girl closed her eyes stubborn
ly.
“I like you,” she said, “when you
don’t consider it necessary to go on
again, a hero, not only for what he
had done but for what he was about
to attempt.
In a dozen world capitals, betting
odds were to be posted that same
night on the chances of success.
The plan was simplicity itself, with
Mont Wallace’s flying accuracy’as
the key.
Ten refuelling stations were to be
established. Ten pilots were to stand
ready, linked by short wave radio
with the control station at Mineola,
Long Island, where the start was to
be made.
Wallace was to fly with the new
est automatic control equipment,
Everything depended on the plane
and on Wallace’s ability to keep to
the course, Proven methods of re
fueling in the air would be used and
the plane would be altered at once
to make refueling easy for the lone
flier,
Natalie was already assigned to
cover preparations at the home port.
Plans were under way for the
christening of the ship by Sunny
Marion and Jimmy hal sold pictures'
of the girl to half a dozen national
picture agencies.
Sunnys’ glee was not hard to fath
om, for the christening of the plane
would link her name with that of
Mont Wallace. The world would see
[ romance there, There was at least a
chance that Mont had suggested the
naming 'of the ship though Natalie
held to the hope,that her father had
been responsible for the suggestion.
Inspired'by the magnitude of the
project, Natalie was nevertheless not
without her misgivings. She knew
that a thousand dangers lurked along
the path of the plane and that Mont
would crowd his luck for the last
chance of success. ,
More than this, she found that
Mont had suddenly become almost a
stranger to her. So engrossed was he
in the preparations for the flight that
he would not leave the field except
for sleep and, though her assignment
threw the girl with him constantly,
there were few moments when they
regained any of the easy intimacy
they had known.
Natalie’s only consolation was that
Sunny suffered from the same neglect
and yet there were occasional con
ferences at the Marion home when
Sunny must be present while Natalie
was busy with her copy or otherwise
left out.
As time for the flight drew near,
the girl reporter found she had few
er and fewer moments to think of the
danger’s of the plan or to try for the
favor of the man she loved.
She knew at last that she was jeal
ous of the flight as well as of Sunny
Marion and when Jimmy found her
hiding in his dark room one evening
in tears he guessed what the trouble
was.
“You’re just naturally bound to
love that guy, aren't you?” he chided,
“Well, don’t break your heart and
we’ll see what can be done.”
The girl poured out her troubles
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JILL-OF-ALL-TRADES
,fDrunks? Sure! I pile them in and
I pile them out!” smiles attractive
Mrs. Arthur Seguin, only taxi driver
of Cache Bay, Ont, who took over
the stand when her husband, now
dead a month, was injured by a train
three years ago. She likewise oper
ates a transfer and tobacco business
and a pool-room, also taken over
from her husband. She speaks French
with a Scotch burr, as a Scot mar*
tied to a frenchman.
not jealous of you? I’d give my eyes
sometimes of you weren’t ftso good
looking.”
“Oh, Nat, I never thought of that.
You hang onto yourself so. I didn’t
think you were ever silly. It’s be
cause you’re such a swell person that
I can't imagine Anybody not loving
you.” (
“Well, now that we’ve got all that
out of our systems, I suppose we i into his willing ear. He took her in
ought to go down to dinner. I wish
I could send home for something I
haven’t slept in.” She considered her
rumpled costume ruefully.
“I’ll probably- die if you look well
in it, but won’t you wear something
of mine?” Sunny offered and pres
ently Natalie surveyed herself in a
long glass wearing one of Sunny’s
stunning gowns.
“I knew I oughtn’t to have done
that,” Sunny laughed. “Now I’ll never
get Mont to look at me again.”
“It’s just too bad about you,” Nat
alie bantered.
And together the two went down
the broad stairway in search of the
man they loved.
But when they reached the library
door, they found that he and Jabe
Marion Were too deep in conversa
tion to pay any attention to feminine
company.
When dinner was announced a few
minutes later, both Sprang up with
apologies for having failed to notice
that the two girls waited for them.
The four moved into the spacious
dining room without pairing and
there Jabe Marion stood in his place
to propose a toast.
“Let Ug drink,’ 'he said, “to the
succeS of the greatest flight ever pro
posed. To the plane Sunny Marion,
to her nbn-stOp refueling flight ar
ound the world, and to her pilot,
Moht Wallace.”
Natalie gasped. Sunny squealed
with delight. (Mont lifted his glass.
“Success to the flight and to the
man who conceived the plan,
ended,
“Success,” cried Natalie, and the
glasses drained.
“Break, kid/’ exulted Jimmy Hale,
“You sure get 'em. And may yqtt
never miss.”
Natalie’s story of the proposed
flight was rolling, on the great press
es of the Express. The first inky
copies lay before the two as they
stood* in Jimmy's clattered office.
Coming on the heels of her rescue
story out of Lower Calfotnia, it was
world news, and Mont Wallace was
he am-
his arms as though she were his sis
ter instead of the girl he adored and
promised her that he would do “his
best damndest” to fix things vup for
her.
He took her home and made her
promise to get into bed and forget
all about it.
Sleep came to her rescue then but
she woke in the middle of the night,
apparently wakened by some noise
at the dor.
For an instant she was terrified
but she knew that help was within
call and so she-went to the door and
opened it. A man lay there, sprawl
ed on the hall carpet and when she
bent above him she found it was Jim
my Hale, unconscious and clearly
very drunk.
Her heart went out to him as it
had never done before. She bent to
lift him up and got him into the
room. With the door swiftly closed
so that he was safe from arrest for
his condition and his midnight visit,
she helped him to her own bed, stilled
his mutterings and watched over him
the rest of the night.
She fell asleep in the big chair
where she sat and the Sun was high
when she waked the next morning
to find the boy still slumbering heav
ily.
In the very small cabinet kitchen
where she prepared her breakfasts,
she brewed for him some very strong
coffee and broke out a can of tomato
es, remembering that he had spoken
often of their efficacy after
drinking,
(Continued Next Issue)
MINK’S DESTINY
Tile mink, a very insignificant lit
tle fellow, is very much in demand
when it comes to making milday’s
luxurious fur coat. 'At the Royal Win
ter Fair, Toronto, there are about 250
mirtk on exhibition.
much
PHIL OSIFER
OF LAZY MEADOWS
By Harry L Boyle
“IN THE CITY”
Place “Sir Timothy’*, our thorough
bred bullr in the front parlour and
the results would be nothing short of
scandalous. Take myself In the city,
and you have something that's Just
about the same. Just like last week,
when 1 was coaxed into' going to the
city to see my niece, who for some
strange reason every year persuades
me to come and see her. Mrs. Osifer
always refuses to go and I am always
weak-kneed enough to accept the in
vitation.
I landed in the station and stood
gaping for almost an hoQr at the dif
ferent people. They all seem to be
in a hurry, and go bustling along, and
a fellow keeps telling about the trains
going here and there, and yelling in
a voice that sound like old Flatfoot,
the Berk, “when I stick a fork into
her for rooting up the garden,.
Bebfore navigating up to where my
niece lives, I decided to go in and
have something to eat. Now, I should
have picked out some quiet, little
place on a back street where the wait*
ers wouldn’t be too particular about
etiquette, but, something about the
flashy front on one place with a for*
eign name on it, set, my curiosity to
working, so I ambled into it.
I had to tread mighty easy, because
the floor was as slippery as our back
stoop with a coating of ice on it A
superior-looking fellow came, to the
door and took a haughty glance up
and down, and in that moment I
thought of a lot of things. Back at
Lazy Meadows that old black suit of
mine, that I bought for young Tim’s
christening is alright. It seems under
the city lights it looks pretty green.
The pant legs have shrunk up to show
where the tops of my boots have been
cracked. In fact I wouldn’t be sur
prised if they even got a glimpse of
those woollen socks that the wife knit
for me. My string tie may have been
fashionable years ago, but I suppose
fashions have changed. When I took
off my hat, I could feel my hair brist
ling up like the .thatch on top of a
timothy-hay stack.
start to talk. I hope I’m pardoned,
for my fancies, but they seem, to en
joy it, and I like to talk.
I managed to get over to a table,
knowing that everybody in 'the room
was looking at me, and I suppose
breathing some sort of exclamation
about the queer-looking fellow with
the battered old valise. Ten to one
they expected me to open up the suit
case and start selling pencils. At the
table, the waiter asked me something
about whether I wanted any “con-
sumy”’ or not. I guess I said the
wrong thing because when I said: “I
aim to consume a meal alright,” he
held a pad up in front of his face to
cover a smile. He wasn’t a bad sort
of fellow though, and he just'leaned
over and said: “Better let me fix you
up with a meal.”" That saved a lot of
trouble, but the, meal was pretty
skimpy. There was a lot of little
dishes with dabs Of this and that and
a bit of meat.
I was darn glad to get out of that
place. Of course, there was nothing
wrong with that place, but I guess I
'didn’t just fit into the picture.
My niece’s place is one of those
apartments about as big as the house
I built for “Suchansuch” the collie
pup'. You’ve got to be pretty careful
or else you’ll slip on the polished
floors. When you go to bed, you have
to sleep on a slab of bed that folds
out of the wall. Every time you even
sneeze, you have to be careful to keep
from knocking down one of the par
titions. They live out of a tin-can
and a food store down in the same
block.
Maybe they like that way of living.
I don’t, because it seems too much
like living in a packing box. Then
they have a lot of screechy friends
who seem to be all excited and her-
cous about everything in particular.
It’s a relief to get home. Pulling
in to the old station on the “doodle
bug”, that’s1 the little electric car that
runs into the city, the hired man he’s
waiting for me with the eat, and it’s
a relief to get home and ‘find the
chores done up and the supper wait
ing on the table for me. I go in and
try and talk while I'm stuffing my
face. Then I sit back in the chair and
park my stockinged feet on the dam
per and tell the folks all about my
trip to the city, Neighbour Higgins
comes in, to ask how things ard in
the city, and Tom Breen comes along.
I begin to feel like a world-travell
er, and I get sort, of expansive and
FRIDAY 10 P-m- E-s-T-
station CRCT
RUBY AND SON
Ruby Keeler; screen dancer-actress
and wife of Al Jolson, holds her three
and one*half year old son, Albert, in
her arms beside a pool at Palm
Springs^ Calif,, where1 she is vacation*
Ing.