The Clinton News Record, 1940-12-12, Page 6$
PAGE 2
THE CLINTON NEWS -RECORD
FACTS WORTH KNOWING
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graphy has been the stepping store
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grapher, who is ambitious,and not
.afraidof responsibility, is the posi-
tion of private secretary to some big
executive, or busy man of affairs.
Such a position carries with it as a
rule an extra fine salary, and a cer-
tain recognition of both the employ
-
ar and other employees concerned',
which no other position ever, com-
mands.
The Clinton' News -Record'
with which is incorporated
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G. E. HALL - - Proprietor
13. T. RANCE
Notary Public, Conveyancer
,Financial, Real Estate and Fire In-
:curance Agent. Representing 14 Fire
'insurance Companies.
Division Court Office. Clinton
Frank Fingland, S.A., LL.B.
lllarrister, Solicitor, Notary Public
Successor to W. Brydone, S.C.
Sloan- Blocs — Clinton. Ont.
H. G. MEIR
Barrister -at -Law
,Solicitor of the Supreme Court of
Ontario.
Proctor in Admiralty.
:Notary Public and Commissioner.
Offices in Bank of Montreal Building.
Hours: 2.00 to 5.00 Tuesdays
and Fridays.
O. H. MCINNES
CHIROPRACTOR
Electro Therapist, Massage
Office: Huron Street. (Few Doors
west of Royal Bank)
•,Hours—Wed. and Sat. and by
appointment.
FOOT CORRECTION
manipulation Sun -Ray Treatment
Phone 207
INSURANCE
Fire, Automobile, Automobile Ac-
cident,
e-cident, Accident, Sickness, Burglary,
Plate Glass, Fidelity Bonds, Liabil-
ity, etc.
Lowest Rates.
M. G. RANSFORD, Phone 1SOW.
Representing fifteen strong Canadian
Companies.
HAROLD JACKSON
Licensed Auctioneer
Specialist in Farm and Household
Sales.
Licensed in Huron and Perth
ounties. Prices reasonable; satis-
faction guaranteed.
For information etc. write or phone
Harold Jackson, 12 on 658, Seaforth;
R. R. 1, Brucefield, 06-012
GORDON M. GRANT
Licensed .Auctioneer for Huron
County.
Correspondence promptly answered.
Every effort made to give aatisfac-
•tion. Immediate arrangements can be
made for sale dates at News -Record
Office or writing Gordon M, Grant,
tGoderich, Ont.
fiE McBILGOP MUTUAL
Fire Insurance Company
Bead Office, Seaforth;' Ont.
Officers:
President, Thomas Moylan, Sea -
forth; Vice President, William Knox,
Londesboro; Secretary -Treasurer, M.
A. Reid, Seaforth. Directors, Alex.
Broadfoot, Seaforth; James Sholdice,
Walton; James Connolly, Goderich;
W. R. Archibald, Seaforth; Chris.
Leonhardt, Dublin; Alex. McEwing,
131- th; Frank McGregor, Clinton.
List of Agents: E. A. Yeo, R.R. 1,
Goderich, Phone 608r81, Clinton;
dames Watt, Blyth; John E. Pepper,
Brucefield, R. R, No. 1; R. F, McKer-
cher, Dublin, R. R. No. 1; J. F.
Prelater, Brodhagen; R. G. Jarmuth,
Bornholm, R. R. No. 1.
Any money to be paid may be paid
to the Royal Bank, Clinton; Bank of
Commerce, Seaforth, or at Calvin"
Cutt's Grocery, Goderich,
Parties clearingug
to effect insur-
ance
ur-
ance
or transact other business will
be promptly attended to on appliea-
ton to any of the above officers ad-
dressed to their respective post offi-
ces. Losses inspected by the director
who lives nearest the scene.
CANADIAN ;NATIONAL ' AILWAYS
TIME TABLE
'11P4ains will arrive at and depart from
Clinton ss follows:
Buffalo and Goderick Div.
Going East, depart 6.43 a.nt
Going East, depart 8.00 p.m.
Going West, depart 11.45 a.m.
Ging West, depart 9.50 p.nn.
Landon, Huron & Bruce
Going North, ar 11.21, lye. 11a47 am.
Going South ar.. 2.60, leave 3.08 p.m.
PUBLISHED BY - SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT
THURS., DEC. 1`2, 1940
SILA1l>il El . COPYRIGHT
GENERAL .SIR WESTON* MARRIS,
a highly placed officer of the
General Staff visiting New Zeal-
and on duty.
LORNA HARRIS, his pretty, luxury -
loving daughter. '
PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS
MISS HILDA MARRIS, sister of the
General, accompanying him to
New Zealand and giving Lorna
such supervisionas a high-spirit-
ed girl will tolerate,
CAPTAIN ALLEN R.ICHARDS, the
GeneraI's Aide -de -Camp, who is
engagedto Lorna,
T. H. HAWKSFORD, chauffeur to
the General's party. A New
Zealander, "handsome in a rug-
ged, arresting fashion."
CHAPTER XII (Continued)
She came dizzily out of the dark-
ness to see tall stems of flax far
overhead, waving against the sunny
sky; hands under her arms were
drawing her backwards out of the
harsh, rustling leaves.
"Hurt any -where?" said Hawks -
ford's voice, as he put,his arms under
her and Lifted her out of the flax
bush into which she had been thrown.
She found herself looking up into his
face, and uttered a cry. She attempt-
ed to struggle, but could only lie in
'leaden helplessnes in his arms. A dull
fright penetrated the haze in her
mind and she remembered what had
happened. He lifted her as if she had
been as light as a child, carried her
a few paces, and laid her down on.
the grass,
"No bones broken?" He lifted each
hand in turn, flexed her ankles gently.
"I'm not hurt!" Lorna sat up
dizzily. Her hat had gone, and her
hair was shaken loose round her face.
It was plain to see who she was
now.
"Good thing that flax bush was
there to receive you so gently!" said
Hawksford in a cheerfully matter-of-
fact tone, as if robberies, pursuits and
car smashes were everyday affairs.
She saw her car lying on its side
against a willow tree at the bottom
of the bank. The one in which Hawks-
ford had chased her was drawn up
on the road above. She drew a
shuddering breath. It calve into her
head as not beyond possibility, that
this big, handsome man, who had
picked her out of the bush, who had
once held her in his arms, who had
written her name in his diary "Lorna"
—with two underlinings—might de-
cide to murder her.
"Do you always drive like that?"
he was saying, with a sort of jibe in
Ins voice. "It's just as well to give
way to the trains on the crossings.
What were you in such a hurry for?
You've been hogging it all the way
from town."
Lorna, her head clearer, looked him
in the eyes boldly, and asked:
"What do you want?"
"My pocket book," he replied
promptly.
"I haven't got your pocket book!".
"Then where is it?"
"I don't know what you're talking
about!"
"Oh, yes you do! That disguise of
yours was simple, but it was quite ef-
fective, and I admit it deceived me
ata distance; but you use some kind
of perfume that's very distinctive, I
suppose you get it in Paris or some-
where—women like you go in. for that
kind of thing, don't they? Anyhow,
after you raided city room last night,
I recognized it and I knew who you
were!"
Her head was splitting, specks still
danced before her eyes, and; it seem-
ed a fair enough bid for time, to put
her face down in her hands and say
nothing,
He bent towards her with a change
of tone,
"Feeling ill?"
"Head aches," muttered Lorna.
She felt his hand on her shoulder,
he made her lie down flat on the
grass. He went down to the creek
below to wet a clean handkerchief
with water.
"I'll have my pocket -book —"
Lorna lifted her head and peeped
along the road. They were in the
midst of wide, lonely paddocks. Far
in the' distance on the flat horizon,
she could see a little white, box -like
homestead. But there was no nearer
help at hand. What frightened her
most was Hawksford's aggressive
manner. For a man who meet know
himself in the wrong, it was he who
should have been evasive and scared.
What did he mean to do with her?
He would never allow her to get away
to tell what she knew.
Her only chance was to make him
think she knew no more than her
Father knew already. She would tell
him about the slip in the typewriter.
Let him think that was the source of
all, her suspicions, Then he would let
her ao—and perhaps he would clear
out himself.
She heard his footsteps coming
hack. He knelt beside her and wiped
her face and forehead with the cold
dripping handkerchief; she half lifted,
her eyelids and saw his face bent
over her, frowning puzzled, intent.
He smoothed the wet red hair back
from her brow, smoothed the fine arch
of the perfect, dark brown eyebrows;
a faint smile appeared round his
grim mouth, and a kind of anger in
his eyes.
It struck ,sueh a thrill of terror
through Lorna that she sat 'up hast-
ily:
"Thanks — I'm better now. Please
don't 'bother about me!"
"No, I don't 'think there's much
wrong with you." He handed her her
handbag, which he had picked up on
the bank. "If you don't mind, I'll
have any pocket -book—!".
"It isn't there. It's at the hotel."'
"At the hotel?"
She looked along the deserted road.
Not a car, not a human being in sight.
What an appallingly empty country it
was!
"I left it in a clothes basket in the
batluoom on the second floor," she
informed him, and burst out emotion-
ally: "1 suppose you must think' I'm
quite mad, trailing you to town and
then breaking into your room and
stealing a notebook! I should have
put it to you quite openly at once,
but I was trying to find out more
about you. My ;father found some-
thing in the typewriter lid which
made him think someone was collect-
ing military information; I suspected
you, of course!"
Except, for a slight narrowing of
his eyes as he fixed them on her,
Hawksford's expression did not
change.
"Found something in the typewrit-
er, did he?"
"A slip with some notes typed on
it. I suspected you at once, I admit!"
"And what do you think now?" His
tone was a jeer again.
"I didn't find anything to enlight-
en me in your diary!"
"Aren't you being very honest
about all this? Don't you think if
I'm a spy 1 might do something dras-
tic to close your mouth and keep it
shut?" He smiled oddly.
She turned to him, driven to sincer-
ity by a thrill of nightmarish appre-
hension.
"Ave you?" she demanded, her eyes
very wide and dark in her white face.
"Are you a sky? Are you selling the
information you've picked up while
you've been with my father?"
He gazed back at her steadily,
searchingly, then looked away.
"You think it would be a very
terrible thing for anyone to be?" he
asked.
"I think it would be horrible!" she
raid, her voice throbbing on a deep
'!tote,
"But then if I'm a spy I'm a thief,
aren't I?" he countered. "It must be
because you saw me with Richard's
notecase."
FORCING THE TRUTH
"You are a spy, then?" she, said
desperately. Site wanted to force the
truth from him. His face, with its
fine rugged lines, the whole hand-
some strength of him as she sat there,
wrung her heart.
"No," he said, not looking at her,
smiling slightly, "0f Course, I'm not!"
She didn't believe him. Her heart
sank. The queer emotional hold ha
hacl on her sometimes seemed to with-
er and fall away. Fine he might
look, and sometimes sound, but he
was beyond saving. She was back
with the necessities of the situation
again, putting up a pretence.
"What a fool I've been! I shouldn't
have thought that of you, should I?"
"No," he said. "Not that. You've
been on the wrong trail!"
She tried to laugh naturally.
"You must think me a perfect idiot,
with my detective work! Stealing
your pocket book and smashing a car
up! But I thought it might be you,
and I wanted to be sure before I told.
my father about your looking at Al-
len's notecase."
"Did you? Why?" He shot the
question abruptly.
"Because—because I gave you my
word!"
"
She looked away. Ile gazed at her,
with a smile half wry, half puzzled
on his lips as sive knelt there beside
him, her shoulders drooping, her long
white fingers trailing in the grass.
"Are you going to tell your father
and Richards about all this when
they come. back?"
She groped hastily for the best an-
swer: "I don't know—1 mean 'no, I
don't think so.' I've made myself look
rather a fool, I think, with my wild
efforts at being clever!"
"I didn't know you had it in you,"
saids Hawksford, with anadmiring
amusement, which was more galling
to her than an insult would have been.
"I' thought you were only fit for sit -
ting in the back seat of a ear—or the
front seat on occasion—and looking
lovely!"
What effrontery he had! He could
recover in an instant! She held her-
self desperately in check. She was
sure he believed that her suspicions
were allayed. He did not know she
knew that he had plans for the 28th
of the month. The more she soothed
his fears the nearer she would be to
escape, and .perhaps to solving the
whole mystery , ,
"And I found nothing ,to tell me
anything about you in your pocket
book!" she went on, half laughing,
reddening as she remembered the re-
ferences to herself in it..
He kept his gaze fixed disconcert-
ingly on her face.
"Did your father tell anyone be.
sides you about the notes in the type-
writer?"
"No," said Lorna, and then wond-
ered distractedly if it would have been
safer to say "Yes."
"I suppose I' thought it would be
fun to follow you and see if I could
track down the spy!" she added. The
thing to do was to appear as silly, and
consequently as harmless as possible.
"Anything for a new sensation!"
said Hawksford, with a slight edge
to his tone.
"I was mad!" she said, feigning'
repentance.
"And you don't intend to do any-
thing more about it now?"
"I feel rather ashamed," said
Lorna.
"You don't treat the poor chauffeur
with mucic consideration, do you?"
he said, with a smile, and • rose to his
feet, But there was a queer, secret-
ive look in his face. "I suppose the
next thing to do is to get that car
out of the ditch!"
"Thanks?" she said, es she walked
clown the bank of it. Site drew a
breath of relief. Suddenly he seemed
quite pitiable to her. Was it a kind
of stupidity which made men become
criminals? A cretinous optimism
which made them think they could get
away with things? He seemed so
easily persuaded that all was well,
and that she had forgotten her sus-
picions!
She got dizzily to her feet and
went down to the car, where he was
trying to see what damage had been
done,
"You seem to have had more than
ignition trouble!" he remarked
straightening up.
Site smiled at the witticism.
"The front mudguards are consider-
ably knocked about, the windscreen is
smashed, and the• door is bent. Can't
see what damage has been done other-
wise, though, until we haul her clear
of the tree, We'll have to get a'
breakdown car from Christchurch to
get her back onto the road," he said.
"It's a hired ear, tool"
Lorna went over to the front of it
and peered over the side to get a
glimpse of the steering wheel and
the dashboard. Suddenly a shadow
fell on her. She turned and saw
Hawksford standing :behind her, a
spanner grasped in his hand. All her
frayed nerves tensed in a spasm of
fear, gripped by an awful fancy that
he had been about to hit her on the
head!
She dodged back, stumbling against
the wheel of the upturned car, a kind
of gasp breaking from her stiff lips.
"What's the ;matter? Don't look so
frightened!" He spoke in a tone of
easy surprise, then uttered a sudden
shout of laughter.
"Holy smoke!" he cried. "I believe
you thought I was going to murder
you!"
He dropped the spanner, still laugh-
ing, and drawing her towards him,
crushed her gently in his arms and
patted iter an the back;
"No, Lorna," he said. "Whatever
I've done, or whatever I may do, I
shan't murder you. I have wanted to
murder you, rather, one or twice, I
admit. But not because of anything
concerned with espionage!"
She wrenched herself away, her
face on fire, and turning her back
on him walked hastily up the bank
to the other car,
"He knows that he has an attrac-
tion for me," site thought, fighting
for calm, "He knows he has a hold
on me! But it isn't that kind of hold
—it won't stop me from finding out
as much' as I can and telling the
truth about him!"
He followed her in a moment or
two, bringing her suitcase from the
wrecked car.
"We'll drive' back in to Christ -
church and send .out a breakdown
ear," he said, with a sidelong glance
at her to see bow she was feeling.
She got in beside him, and he turn-
ed the car. They' started back for
Christchurch. He said nothing, but
kept his eyes on the road ahead, with
a queer kind of smile—was it a smile
of triumph? - at the corners of his
mouth.
With sombre weariness Lorna re-
flected that she had him utterly de-
ceived.
(CONTINUED NEXT WEEK)
CHRISTMAS CUSTOMS
ARE NOT CORRECT
You'll be giving presents this
Christmas; 'Your house will be decked
with holly and mistletoe, there'll be
a Christmas tree, and the kids will
be hanging up their stockings. Maybe
you'll go to church.
Of all these customs, only one has
any real connection with Christmas,
That is the last-mentioned — and
probably least observed. 'Exchanging
presents belongs properly to the New
Year. Christmas trees existed long
before Christianity. And old Santa
Claus is quite out of place at Christ-
mas. His date—St, Nicholas Eve—is
really December 5th.
In certain countries New Year is
still the gift season, as 11 was in the
earliest days of Rome.
The Romans generally gave figs
and dates covered With gold leaf, ac-
companied by money with which to
buy statues of the gods. Mistletoe has
really no Christmas significance, for
it was the Druid's New Year gift—
cut from the saered trees with a gold-
en knife to the people.
Down through the ages, from B.C.
to A.D., New Year remained the time
for gifts. Christmas presents were
still unknown in the time of Henry
VIII, but New Year presents weren't.
In fact, that monarch extorted New
Year gifts from his subjects as his
right. Queen Elizabeth depended on
New Year gifts for her magnificent
wardrobe—and it is recorded that she
took good care not to give too much
back.
Pins and gloves were the most pop-
ular presents. At the end of the fif-
teenth century, women Wore still us-
ing wooden skewers, and welcomed
an "expensive" present of pins. Often
they received instead money to buy
the pins themselves—which gave us
the expression "pin money."
Christmas trees were introduced
into England from Germany not so
long ago—but for their true origin
one trust go back to ancient Egypt,
where palm trees put forth a shoot
every month and were of festive sig-
nificance at the end of the year, be-
cause they bore twelve shoots, rep-
resenting twelve months. New Year
The best wa / tt
e
buy Groce1res r�
;�snfS:�ns
.00
You get good value when
you shop by telephone
because the grocer takes
particular care of his
"telephone customers";
their continued patron-
age depends on his good
service. A tele.
phone in your
'home haves
precious time and trou-
ble, too. There's no need
to wait t� get served—a
telephone order gets
immediate attention.
The small cost of a tele-
phone pays' for itself
many times over
in convenience
and pleasure.
again, you see.
Whether or not it was that giving
presents to children on December 5,
in recognition of the kindly St,
Nicholas, the festivities of Christmas,
and the exchange of gifts at New
Year, became too expensive as in-
dividual custom, the fact remains that
gradually they all became lumped to-
gether on Christmas Day.
THE ORIGIN OF CHRISTMAS
CARDS
The greatest volume of Christmas
mail consists of greeting cards. This
branch of the season's trade is rapidly
increasing, Every year card designs
become more varied and colorful, and
stationers cveeywhero report bigger
sales.
Yet it is less than a century since
the first Christmas cards made their
appearance in England,
In days gone by it used to be a
general custom to write Iong lettere
to all one's friends and acquaintances
at Christmas time. People who never
met each other from one year's end
to another would exchange at least a
dozen pages of greeting a few days
before the 25th, and this letter -writ-
ing often occupied several weeks.
The credit for inventing the time-
saving card goes to a Birmingham
artist named William A. Dobson, who
later became a member of the Royal
Academy, In 1884 he designed a card,
painted with rich colors, symbolizing
the spirit of Christmas. In the follow-
ing year he had his little masterpiece
lithographed and sent copies to some
of his friends.
Th ci nur at
ra ac,.co• JUST LIKE
1
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Lifigaakt01110116MOSIOWSWIlabgagittigitigNig",524-4532.
We Have Just Received
Lovely Samples of
Pe
CprHIST
sollal,
AS CA 'DS
Moderate in Price.
Beautiful in Design.
Tho Clilltoii Newsiocord
PHONE 4
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