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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Clinton News Record, 1935-01-03, Page 2AGE 2 THE CLINTON NEWS -RECORD Clinton News -Record With which is Incorpgrated THE NEW ERA Teams of Subscription - $1,50 per year in advance, to. Canadian ad- chessee $2,00 to the U.S. or oth- er foreign countries. No ''paper discontinued until all arrears are paid unless at the option cf the publisher. The date to which every subscription is paid is denoted on the label. advertising Rates=Transient adver- tising 12e per count line for first insertion. Sc for each subsequent insertion. Heading counts 2 liner. Small advertisements, not to ex eecd ono inch, such as "Wanted", "Leat" "Strayed,' etc., inserted. onee for 35e, each subsequent in- sertion 15c. Rates for display ad< eertising made known on applica- ties, Communications intended for pub- tleation must, as a guarantee of good faith, be accompanied by the name of the writer. ;G. B. HALL, M. R. (?LARK, Freprietar. Editor. H. T. RAATCE Notary ' Public, Conveyancer financial, Real Estate and Fire In- •aurance Agent. Representing 14 Fire ilnsurance Companies. Division Court Office. Clinton. Frank Fingland, B.A., LL.B. +Barrister, Solicitor, Notary Public $uccessce to W. Brydone, B.C. 411oen Block Clinton, Oat, DR. FRED G. THOMPSON Office and Residence: Ontario Street - Clinton. Ont. One door west of Anglinan Church. Phone 172 ayes Examined and Glasses Flitted DR. H. 'A. McINTYRE DENTIST Office . over Canadian National Express, Clinton, Ont. Phone, Office, 21; House, 88. DR. F. A. AXON Dentist •Graduate of C+C,D,S., Chicago and R.C.D.S., Toronto, Crown and plate work a specialty. 'Phone 185, Clinton, Ont. 19-4-34. D. H. McINNES CHIROPRACTOR Electro ' Therapist, Massage Office: Huron Street. (Few Deere west of Royal Bank) hours --.Wed. and Sat. and by appointment. FOOT CORRECTION en manipulation Sun -Ray Treatment Phone 207 GEORGE. ELLIOTT Licensed Auctioneer for the Coukty of Huron 'Correspondence prgtnptly answered. d'mmediate arrangements can bo made Cor Sales Date at The News -Record. 'Clinton, or by calling phone 203. Charges Moderate , and Sattsfactior Guaranteed DOUGLAS R. NAIRN Canister, Solicitor and Notary Public ISAAC STREET, CLINTON Office Hours: Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays --10 a,m. to 5 pan. Phone lib 3••34, THE McKILLLOP MUTUAL. Fire Insurance Company Head Office,: Seaforth, Ont Officers: President, Alex. Broadfoot, Sea- 'forth; Vice -President, . James Con• •nolly, Goderich; secretary -treasur- er, M. A. Reid, Seaforth. Directors: Alex. Broadfoot, Seaforth, R, R. No. 3; James',Sholdice, Walton; Wm.' 'Knox, Londesboro; Geo. Leenhardt, Bornholm, R. R. No. 1; John Pepper, 'Brucefield; ' James Connolly, Gode- rich; Robert Ferris, Blyth; Thomas 'Meyian, Seaforth, 1t R. No. 5; Win. 'R. Archibald, Seaforth, R. R. No. 4. Agents: W. J. Yeo, R.R. No. 3, Clinton; Jahn Murray, Seaforth; dames Watt, Blyth; Finley McBer - cher, Seaforth. Any looney to be paid may be paid co the Royer Bank, Clinton; Bank of +Commerce, Seaforth,tr at Calvin +Cutt's Grocery; Goderich. Parties desifink to effect insur- ance or transact other business will die promptly attended' to on applies, leen to any o'f the above officers ;addressed .to their respective.post ot- ficei. Loathe inspectedby the curet: - tor who lives nearest the *sena. CANAL l N, TIME TABLE trains will arrive at and depart from Clinton as follows:' Buffalo and Gedmick Div. -doing East, depart 7.08 a.tn. 'doing East depart 3.00 p.m ,Going West, depari 11.50 a.m. ,,dieisig West, depart 9,5.9 plu London. Buren & Brace ming North, ar. 11.34. lve.'11.54 a.m. mit last!► roti lease SYNOPSIS .Ellen Ch irch, 17 years old, finds herself alone in the world with her artist mother's last warning ringing in her ears, to "Jove lightly." Of the world she knew littler All her life she had lived alone with her nether in an old brown house in a small rur- al community. • All her life, first as a new baby, then a bubbling child; then a charming young girl . . she had posed for her talented mother who sold her magazine cover painting through an art agent in the city , , . Mrs. Church's broken life . . . the unfaithful husband, his disappearance and after seventeen years of sil- ence announcement of his death was at last disclosed to Ellen. The news of the husband's death killed Mrs. Church.... Ellen, alone. turned to the only contact she knew, the art agent in New York, Posing, years of posing, was her only talent so she was introduced to two leading ar- tists, Dick Alven and Sandy Macin- tosh. Both used her as a model and both fell in love with her . , but El- len, trying to follow the warped phil- osophy of her mother to "love light- ly" resists the thought of love. Her circle of friends is small, artists and two or three girl models. Ellen at- tends a ball with Sandy, While'danc- ing a tall young man claimed her and romance is born. A ride in the park, proposal, the next day marriage to Tony, . and wealth. But she'd "Love Lightly," Ellen told herself. She'd never' let him know how desperately she loved him, even though she were his wife. 31i * NOW GO ON WITII'THE STORY She raised her hand, holding the glass, toward her lies, but when the hand reached her lips there wasn't any glass in it. For Dick very firm ly, indeed, had token it from her fin- gers. "You'Il not drink to that toast, El- len," he said, and he wasn't, now, the same man who had kissed her a mo- ment before, "In fact, you'll not drink to any toast. In fact, you'll not drink at all," Tony set down his glass so careful- ly upon a table, that it might have been a bomb. He walked across the room rather slowly, and as he came the crowd fell array front him. The man who mnacle the music put his ac- cordion behind bin -it was a good accordion, and he never risked it! Tony came across the floor he came so slowly that it seemed as if he must be tired, and he didn't speak until he was so close to Diek that their coats were alibost touching. "After all," he said, and lois chin had an ugly line to it, "taking it by and large, Ellen is married to me, not to you. Whether she drinks, or not, is no business of yours. It concerns us, Ellen and me." Dick had set Ellen's glass upon a nearby table. It bubbled, all by 'it- self, and where the light struck it, it was golden. "I should say so, too, old man," he said. "All of the worthwhile things in the worldconcern only you two, at this moment. But, good God, boy-- I'm oy-I'm older than you are, and I'm very fond of Ellen, and when I see you making fools of yourselves , , ," "Yen wouldn't consider it being foolish," Tony asked, "this business of kissing a married woman when her husband was right here? When he'd scarcely had time—" the boy's voice shook, suddenly, "to kiss her him- self .,, "I'd say it was darn foolish," Dick answered. "I'd say it was a corn- •pletely dreadful lapse. l'in ashamed of myself, Brander, and I must apolo- gize to you and to Ellen, It's only that I'm 80 fond of Ellen--" The girl in the white satin frock who leaned so nonchalantly against the bar, was interrupting. "Besides," she drawled, "kissing doesn't mean quite SO much to you folk who are Bohemians. "Love isn't such a staple thing with you. With us—people like Tony and me -- it's more important. W!e don't take sex as a matter of course ..." Ellen's eyes were filling. It was twenty-four home : since she had met Tony,since she had first met him— it imit was twenty-four lifetimes. She couldn't speak. Neither ,could Dick, but a white rage possessed hint. But Gay, coming forward with an empty, slim stemmed glass in her hand, was protesting. "I'd like you to know," said Gay, and het face was a saucy gamin's face, "that some of us take sex as it comea, and kisses as they come. In studios or in front parlors --call 'em drawing rooms, if you like—+have it your own way! I've done my kissing early—and so've you; if I can tell any- thing about it—but Ellen hasn't. El- len's ` different from the rest of us. She ---her name was Church before site married your boy friend—land the name suited her! Ellen hasn't gone around kissing. She's kept away from that sort of thing. She's the kind that always leaves the party, and goes home early, Jane sipped very daintily from her glass, It might have been molten fire that the sipped. "StilRS" she said. "it does seem strange, doesn't it? I mean another mart giving orders to a gird on her wedding day. Kissing her- on her wedding day!" "That's the way I: feel about it myself," growled Tony. "01 course, I couldn't have expect- ed thatyou'd understand," Dick said. He turned on his heel, and then swiftly -he turned back again. "I wonder if you'll agree with me, Brander," he said, "in this, at least I'd like to tell you that I think El- len's all in. You know, yourself, that she was crying when you came to soy studio, to call for her. She was cry- ing because she was nervously ex- hausted. That's why I didn't want her to do any drinking—she's never had a drink, you see, in the whole of her life. The poor kid's shot quite to pieces. I think, Brander, that I'd better take her home—" "I told you, Dick," he said, "a while back, that this wasn't your scrap. I'm saying it again. For heav- en's sake lay off this butting in!" Ellen was sobbing. Round tears were creeping dawn her cheeks. "Dick's right," she was sobbing. "I don't want champagne—and I don't want to stay at this party, either. I want to go away from here! Jane she's right, too. We're different--" "Thank goodness for that!" said Gay. Tony was staring at Ellen. She was conscious of the stare, although site wasn't looking at him. "I want to go away from here," she repeated wildly, "I want to go home!" "After all, if there's any seeing home to be done, I'll do it! After all, Ellen's married to nye!" said Tony. "But," Dick's tone was flat, "but man, she acts as if she scarcely knows You!" Tony's face was an ugly mask. "Whether she acts that way.or not" he said, "I'ni her husband! And—" "No matter how I ret," said Ellen, "and no matter whether we've been foolish or not — that's beyond the point. Tony's right --he's my bus- band—Hell take me home." With her head erect, she walked THURS., JAN. 3, 1935 I'm sure Jane understands you. By all means go to see her." past Claire, past Gay who had been kind, and Sandy, and even Jane. She didn't even glance Dick's way as Tony helped her into her coat, and opened the door that led from the. San Souci: to the street. The streets were quiet. It was lat- er than they, either of them, had thought. Tony drove carefully, until he reached the broad glittering ave- nue that bisected the city. "Where to?" he questioned, then, Ellen's eyes, which were almost in- clined to drop with fatigue, opened very wide. • "Why, you know my address," she said. "Take me there." Tony's voice was cold and hard. "I suppose you're too innocent to realize," he said, "that people usual- ly go, to hotels on their wedding night. This is supposed, you know, to be our honeymoon.." "But," • Ellen's voice tivas neither cold nor hard, "but—how can it be, Tony? Wee --all evening it's been so strange—all day! We can't be mar- ried, just' because I'tn wearing a ring. I can't be your wife just because— "I thought," said teeny, "that my ring was supposed to be enough, as long as my worldly goods went with it—that seers to be the consensus of opinion, too. And this evening—be- ginning at the moment I found you in Adven's arms, ending ,when he kissed you (oh, hang his feeling that you are a little sister!) — seems to prove that you were being as honest about your emotions, as you said you were!" Ellen's jaw was clamping down "As far as Diek goes," she said, ' I don't think he acted very much fess like a brother than your Jane acted like a sister. I don't see that you've' got any special license to talk as you do!" Tony's, jaw, also was seta "I guess," he said, "that we'd bet- ter go to your room, at that. We've got to talk this thing out, you and I"' They reached her room. It was such a cool, sweet little room that the tears rushed to Ellen's eyes as the switched on the light. She'd bought, everything in that room, herself —i she'd made the curtains and the day - bedcover; she'd painted the '.furni- tine, It was such 8prim little room --it was virginal, almost. A man like Tony could never understandhow much it stood' for. pis Bread Returned Ile had kept the':couney store for twenty years. The sign read, "C. P. Johns," but he was "Uncle Charley to everybody. 1t was the only store at the village crossroads, and he prospered in a modest way. After the bad' accounts were deducted his profits were small, but he Was able to support his family comfortably. They had a pretty little cottage, with some fruit trees in the lot, kept some pigs, 'a.cow, and a horse and buggy. They had enough, -and were content- ed with that and their 'good name. Tony sank down into a deep chair. He sighed, again. This time, howev- er, it was an appreciative sigh. "It's nice," he said, "when you get here!" EIIen was removing her hat, and the jacket that she wore. She ran her fingers through her hair. "Do you know," he said at last, stretching his legs out in front of him, "there's been a lot of excitement and drinking and smoking, but we haven't had anything to eat since lun- cheon, Maybe we're hungry. Maybe that's what's wrong with us." Life was like that. It caught you up to the heights of hysteria. It low- ered you gently into the calm of homely things. " I could make us fried eggs sand- wiches," said Ellen. "Behind that screen there is a kitchenette sort of arrangement. I often cook my own supper, and always my own break- fast. There's milk, too!" Tony wiggled his toes, in his shiny brown shoes. "That sounds swell," he said. So EIIen retired behind the screen, and it wasn't long before the pleasant sputter of frying—and the even more pleasant odor of melting butter and toasting bread, began to drift from around the screen. Tony sniffed ap- preciatively. Ellen called back: "I like this a lot better than the Sans Sonel." And Tony answered. "I'll say I' do, too!" They ate their sandwiches eagerly, and drank their milk, from gayly painted five and ten cent store trays. There Were olives, tog, and cookies, and preserved peaches. It was like a party a juvenile sort of a party, Ellen, as she bit into hex sandwich, knew that she had been ravenous — Maybe that was what was the matter with thein —' maybe they `hacl-been hungry. Many a truce had been de cleared over a fried egg sandwich! Many a home had been reunited over preserved peaches and a dish of little calces! But even so, there were things to be. said --9 this pleasant interlude couldn't go en forever. As she ate her second cookie, slowly, Ellen wish- ed that the argument might start, so that it would the sooner be over, EIIen precipitated the crisis. Sho was always saying things she didn't intend to say. "Can Jane cook?" she asked. Tony shrugged, "I wish," she said, that we might have liked each other, Jane and I. But I'm afraid it isn't' possible ..." "That," said Tony, "is the way I feel about Aaron, He's a nice guy and I don't doubt a good artist—but I'm afraid he's out, So far as I am concerned. "Dick," EIIen rose .and carried her tray away to the kitchenette place. "Dick is so regular, Tony, you must understand that. FIe'd asked` the to marry him, yes. But never—never-- has he ever kissed me, before this day -you've got to believe that! And he'll never lass. Inc again, I'm sure -- unless l tell him to. You can count on Dick, Tony. Dick is a gentleman." "And Jane," said Tony curtly, "is gentlewoman. You can count .on her!" Ellen could have killed herself for saving it, but she couldn't help her- self. "Jane' didn't snake it very easy for me, tonight," she said. "I didn't think she anted as a gentlewoman, exactly. She gave me a rotten time." Tony was flushing, but oddly en- ough, he held his peace. "I don't think she behaved very well, either," he said: "And,I don't. know whether; or not she was in love: with me. Our families were friends— our summer places were adjoining Tm fond of Jane, tee. She rideswell and plays a swell game of golf, and tennis, and she can dance." "I can dance, too," said Ellen, She offered it babyishly, as an apology because she couldn't ride oe play golf or tennis. Tony agreed. "I'll Say you can dance," he agreed. All at once he was coming across the little prim room—and then be was on the arm of Ellen's. chair., and his arm was around her. 'I'll never forget our first' dance. together," he said. "Will you — my darling?;,, But •even as her lips met Ellen found herself wondering whether her father had said that, long ago, to her mother. She fought against the way Then the old man took his nephew in as partner. They built an addi- tion to the store and bought a big bill of new goods, It put themin debt quite heavily; but their trade in- creased, and at the end of three years, when the farmers had brought in their wheat, they had enough to pay all their debts and, a thousand dollars over. The nephew took the money, three thousand defiers in a1, and; went to St. Louis to payoff the debts and buy new goods for the fall and winter trade. The goods came promptly, but the nephew 'did not return. He was cal- led South, he wrote. One afternoon, a :Pew days later, the old man receiv- ed a letter from the wholesale house. expressing surprise that he had not remitted for the past due account, and stating, that unless such remit- tance was emit-tance,was received by the tenth they would draw on him for the full a- mount, the new bill included. The supper -bell rang three tithes before the old man stirred. As he came down the walk his wife saw there was something the matter and met him in the yard. "We are ruined!" he said, do a lifeless tone, handing her the letter, "Oh, no not ruined. You can raise it, can't you!" she asked, hopefully. "No," he replied, listlessly. "Surely there will be: some way out," she urged, "There is no way out," he said, hopelessly, as he sank into a rocking in which she was returning Tony's hisses -- she fought to keep.; the thoughts of her father, of her moth- er, uppermost; "I'11 not let you get me," she said, a trifle breathlessly, more than a trifle wildly. ' Tony's arm grew tighter; he hadn't quite caught the words. "But I have got you!" he said. "But you'll never get me," she said. "Not really! Remember that, Tony. There can be fifty girls like Jane, and they can all love you, and it won't matter to me! Remember that, Tony. Fifty girls—like Jane!" (Continued Next Week) chair,: He looked, very old,, and on his gentle face was blank weariness. "No, there is no way out," he re- peated, iiia monotonous tone: '`That, money wab all I could raise; it was evei.ything 1 'have. made in twenty years.,, "But surely our neighbors will help its raise it, You have always been good to titeni," encouraged his 'help: Medicine, he nailed my wife to one side and says, 'Mrs, Todd, you send ono 01 the boys down to the store and yet what you need, and aim can pay for it when he gats well.'" No one spoke for same time. • "Now, see here," continued Todd, "I'm a mighty poor man, but Bills. says he will give me a •hundred do-' lays for my bay snare, and I'm going to sell her and give the money to Unoto Charley to help pay off that debt." Several others volpnteered to wife, trying to cover her own anxiety. "No," said the old man, bitterly„ "people never lend you :stoney or go on your note because you have been. good' to them." The next day he made the only ef- fort that seemed to offer any hope. He went to Adams, the money lender of the community and offered to mortgage everything. "No," said Adams, "Your stuff isn't Worth it. It isn't in my line, any- way. Get some good men who !own land en your note, and I can let you have what you need. ' The old ,you went home, a forlorn figure, bent, gray, hopeless, and sat down to wait dully for the end. They sat in ,the shade in front of the blacksmith shop. .It was an in- formal gathering of farmers, who, on hearing the news, had ridden in to learn' the particulars, "Too bad for 'Miele Charlie!" said a farmer, digging at the grass be- side •ban with his pocket-knife. "Too bad!" and they all shook their heads. "He's been a great help to this community," said another. "There never lived a more aceom- odatin' man," added a third, .And then they talked of how they had always distrusted the 'nephew, and how soon the old man would be closed :out, and wondered what he would then do for a living. There was one, the poorest and the most shiftless man in the neigh- borhood, who had not spoken. "Something ought to be done, men." He could hardly control his voice. "It'll be a lowdown shame to Iet Un- cle Charley be sold out." "What can we do " asked Jones, rather idly. "I don't know exactly what we can do," continued Todd, "but let me tell you what he's done for me. When I came hero I didn't have a red cent, and he trusted me for a whole year's Iiving, and never asked me for it once I couldn't pay him, but I got ashamed and wouldn't buy any more. Well, the next fall when i took down with the fever there wasn't a thing in the house to go on. I telt you, we were in s mighty bad shape, and did- n't know what in the world would be- come of us, until one evening Mr. Johns caro over and brought the doctor. Says he, 'Doe and I just thought we'd drop in.' And white the doctor was fixin' me up some "I don't think," said Mingus, "that it would be hest to give him the mon- ey. Re wouldn't feel right about it, you know. It ain't so much the loss of the money; he can make that back in three or four years, but it's- just taken all stiffening out of the old man, and he's lost all heart. If we could fix it some way so he could go en with the store and see some way to pay out, it would be just the boost he needs." "Say, don't you suppose Mame would loan him the money?" asked one, "Oh, Adams would loan it to him quick enough, if he can get security; but how is he going to get it?"' said Willis. "Well,' I never went on a note in my Iife," said Haney, "but I'll be one to go on old man Johns' note for three thousand." And so said every man there. A note was made out and put in the hands of Haney. The word was quickly passed around, and for two or three days men kept coming in at all hours to sign that note. "He lent me fifty dollare when 7 was hard up," said one. "He helped Toro get through school when I was too poor to help myself," said a father who was now well to do. "After working aII day, many.'s the time he came over to my house and sat up with me when was downwith the slow fever," said a neighbor. "Fifteen years ago," remarked a prosperous young man, as he sat down to sign the paper, "I was too worthless to kill. But Uncle Charley called me into the store ene dayand persuaded me to go to school, got me some books, and said me clothes on credit. Nobody thought he would ev- er get a cent for it." "I want to put my name en that note," said a poor widow. • "I know it's not worth anything, but I want it there. Nobody knows, Mr. Haney, how kind Uncle Charley has been to us. The winter after Jim died Lizzie went up to the store one day almost barefooted. Ile pretended to have her help him count some eggs, and then he gave her a pair of shoes. He's done lots of thin_e,s like that." "He is always so jolly and whole. souled you can't help but feel that he is interested in you and wants you (Continued on page 3) IN U NT Many a non -advertising retailer keeps back from advertising just because he feels that it is nec- essary to advertise in a big way and because he is not ready to advertise in a big way. To keep back from our newspaper until you are ready to use big space i,; just as foolish as would be keeping a child out of school until it had the ability to pass its ma- triculation examination. Beginners in every form of enterprise need to go warily; until experience and practice and growing ability warrant them to attempt larger things, they should proceed cautious- ly. It will pay some retailers to use classified ad- vertisements and small spaces of 2 and 3 inches. These little advertisements will surely get seen and read by newspaper readers. Make small advertise- ments offer special merchandise. Change them fre- quently. A quick succession of little advertisments, everyone of which is alive, will of a certainty effect sales—will attract new customers. The thing to be frightened of is dumbness: a retail store which does not talk to the public by means of newspaper adver- tisements misses a lot of business. The public goes where it is invited to go. THE CLINTON NEWS -REC RD A FINE MEDIUM POR ADVERTISING --READ AD$, IN TIES ISSUE. PHONE 4