The Wingham Advance-Times, 1939-12-21, Page 9WINGHAM, ONTARIO, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 21st, 1939
By Jane
A Christmas Romance in the True Holiday Spirit — No “Toys and Tinsel
But the Deep, Abiding Magic Which to Jan Brings Enduring
_____n. r’-.-ti- J uz:n nfl__»>
*
. \ Chapter I
With every slap of her powder puff
resentment grew in the amber-eyed
girl leaning close to the mirror. It
was the color of her hair — such a
dark red! Did any hair have to be so
dark that it could never, even on top
of a Fifth Avenue bus on a sunny ■
day, be described as red-gold? It was
the right of every red-head to have
her locks referred to, on occasion, as
red-gold. And if her hair had to be
the darkest red in the world, did her -
eyes at the same time have to be the
very palest brown? Yellow, she’d call
them, the girl decided gloomily. Too
big for her face, too, as her face was
now, so thin that it was positively
peaked. Maybe if she did her hair a
different way — but she had no time
for experiment. .She was late now.
And Paul Harris would be quick! to
tell her, not for the first time, that if'
she didn’t care enough about her job
' as magazine counter girl at the Devon
Arms Hotel to get there on time, he,
as manager, would be forced, regret
fully, to accept her resignation.
But indignation at'her looks and
against having to‘hurry off to work
— on Thanksgiving Day, too! — were
only items in a long list of present
ments that Jan Payson had accumu
lated. There was the matter of the
Thanksgiving dinner she and Dora
had just finished to the last scrap.
She had set her heart’ on having a
broiler for Dora’s Thanksgiving, and
to that end had smiled her prettiest
every day for a week at the custom
ers who stopped at her stall for read
ing matter or cigarettes. A smile, she
had found, was- sometimes good for
a tip, but not this week — oh, no, she
needed the money too badly this
week to have even an extra nickel
thrown her way.
Speaking of nickels — she was
rummaging in her shabby handbag
now — she was sure she had left one
for car fare when she bought the two
pork chops that had taken the place
of the missing broiler. She didn’t
mind walking back after work — she
often did that — but as she always
Stayed with frail, patient Dora till the
last possible minute before leaving
for her three to eleven shift, She us-
’ualiy rode down to the hotel on the
subway. Of course she shouldn’t have
bought two chops; she could have
managed perfectly well with a cheese
sandwich, and they had cheese in the
house. But Dora would have insisted
on dividing her chop with her sister,
and Dora needed all the. nourishing
food she could get.( Jan intended, if
the Thanksgiving spirit failed to move
any of the customers to give her a
tip today, to ask Paul Harris for an
advance of a dollar on her salary. She
could just imagine Paul’s face, as she
made her request — his expression
would be mixed, as if at the very mo
ment of getting bad news he had
catight a whiff of something which
stirred up his easily roused disdain,
like cheap perfume oil the girls he
employed.A thump on the door made her
jump, so that her elbow knocked
against a slender vase standing on.
the dresser and sent it crashing
against the marble. The wilted red
rosebud, which Jan had filched for
Dora from the hotel dining room, and
which they had tried, with indifferent
-success, to revive With aspirin in the
water, flew headlong into the still op
en powder box.®
’ “Who’s there?” called Jan, knowing
that peremptory thump very well, but
pausing to retrieve the rosebud, nev
ertheless. It put' off the actual mo
ment of facing Mrs. Mallord by at
‘ least a split second.
“Who are yez expecting?” came the
“Hurt? I’m ruined!” she cried.
sarcastic rejoinder from without, and
Jan, with a sigh, opened the door gin
gerly., Mrs. Mallord pushed it wide
the minute the knob was turned, and
•took a step into the room. “Well?”
she said. ‘
“Well, what?" said Jan, bravely.
“Well what?” Mrs. Mallord mim
icked her roomer. Then, with a
brusque change of tone: “It’s the rent
I’m after. Give,”She held out a large, rather grimy
hand at the end of a stout arm. In
spite of herself, Jan’s voice shook a
little as she explained that, si.nce it.
was Thanksgiving, she hadn’t expect
ed Mrs, Mallard to ask for the rent
until—“Until Doomsday, I suppose!”
broke in the it ate landlady. “Do yez
know how many weeks you’re behind
now? Three weeks today and the
third week is -up, Thanksgiving or no
Thanksgiving."
“But, Mrs. Mallord, I've had to pay
for a tonic for Dora, and fresh eggs
and milk—■”
"Yez can have till Saturday,” said
Mrs; Mallord, “to pay up or get out,
and I’m breakin’ a lifelong rule of my
house to let you stay a day over three
week's—Jackie! Stop your noise!" she
interrupted herself to bellow Into the
stair well beyond the door.
“Arv, Mom! All the kids are goin’.
Kin I go? Kin I? Kin I?”
Twelve-year-old Jack Mallord, who
was three flights below at the foot of
the stairs, having captured his moth
er’s attention by a series of car-split
ting catcalls, pressed his advantage
Quickly, resuming what was plainly
an argument of long standing.
“I’ll skin ya alive!" roared his mo
ther. She turned back to Jan.
“It’s your notice," she announced
formally, and lumbered heavily to
ward the stairs, and the sounds with
which Jackie was making the atmos
phere hideous.
“Good-by, darling” Jan stooped to
kiss Dora's white cheek. “Here’s , „ . . .....
your glass of water and the spoon for young man stood for a moment, star-
yotir tonic. You will take it, won’t
you, honey? I hope you like the new
book I brought from the library, but
don’t read so long that you strain
your eyes.”
She smiled gayly from the thres-
hold, then ‘closed the door softly and
ran down the stairs. It was drizzling,
a fact which she had no opportunity
of noting in .their flat, hardly three
feet away. That nickel she thought
she had, proved to be nonexistent.
Twenty blocks — a generous mile —
lay between her and the Devon Arms.
Not muck of a walk, but quite a run,
especially Jn the rain. And as far as
she could figure it out, she would
have to move at what was practically
a run to reach the hotel anywhere
near on time.
Keeping as close to the buildings
as she could, the worn heels of her
shoes slipping on the glassy-smooth
iron of store trap doors, she sped
away, zigzagging in^the middle of the
street- on the narrow side blocks to
catch the lights, cutting the corners
as best she could. She was panting,
but dared not pa-use to catch her
breath.
There was the Devon Arms, at last,
across the street. Jan headed for the
employees’ entrance, darting in front
of a car parked at the curb. So quick- 1
ly had she bounded across the glist
ening black road that the man behind
the wheel, with his foot on the start
er, had no warning of her catapulting
approach. At the instant she flew in
to his line of vision he pressed down,
and the long car shot forward.
The edge of the front fender bump
ed Jan smartly as she clipped past. It
was not a hard blow, but it threw her
off her balance and she sprawled on
the wet sidewalk. The man, with an
exclamation of alarm, leaped to the
ground and lifted her to her feet.
“You are hurt!”
Jan turned wrathful eyes on him.
“Hurt? I’m ruined!” she cried. She
dabbed feebly with her handkerchief
at the mud that streaked down the
’ front of her suit.
“Allow me.” The young man whisk
ed out a huge square of fine linen and.
began an expert job. of mopping up.
“All right, all right,” said Jan im
patiently “That’ll do. I’m so late
now that it’s better to come in a little
travel-stained; it’ll make my story
sound better.” Her eye fell on the
chauffeur’s cap lying on the front seat
of the car, and traveled back to the
hatless young man and his desperate
ly apologetic air.
, “I don’t know how you keep your
job, if you can’t drive any better than
that,” Jan said severely. “As a matter
of fact, I’ve a good mind to complain
to your employer. Maybe," she add
ed darkly, “I ought to sue him."
, “Let me—” said the chauffeur.
“Oli, skip it! I was only trying to
scare you. I won’t make any trouble,
I know how tough it is to get a job
these days, And I am late and have
to rush.”
“But---” began the young man.
Jan, who had the door open by this
time, waved a friendly hand, grinned
a friendly grin and disappeared. The
,vuuni4 jimii siuuu lor a momenr, star
ing at the slowly closing door. Then
on an impulse he bounded across the
sidewalk and gently pushed it open.
Jan was just entefing^another door at
the end of a long corridor. He heard
a shrill greeting from within,