The Exeter Times-Advocate, 1930-10-30, Page 6TOVRSBAY, OCTOBER Wh H>30 THE EXETER TIMES-ADVOCATE
EUByjl&gg
WHAT HAS; GONE BEFORE i
diles Chittenhain swears to avenge
the death of his young half-broth
er Rodney, driven to suicide by
the notorious Julie Farrow who
had spurned his love. He will
‘ make Julie love him, then throw
» her aside as she threw Rodney. He
meets her in Switzerland, goes
-with her to the hotel on the St.
Bernard Pass, and succeeds in
winning her love. To his amaze
ment, he discovers that he has fall
sen overwhelmingly in love with
’ her himself! And he is married
to an American girl with whom
lie has nothing in common.
Then lie discovers that this girl
5s not the same Julie Farrow who
sruined Rodney, but her cousin of
’ the same name. She scorns him
when he confesses his love and his
inability to marry her. They
■ meet later in London, where she is
going the pace that kills. Another
man, Lawrence Schofield, wants
to marry her, in spite of her wild
life.
Through his friend Lombard,
Riles Chittenham meets the ‘other
Julie,’ the notorious woman who
Jiad ruined Rodney’s life.
W GO ON WITH THE STORY
She sat beside him, and her voice
her laugh, and her little tricks
of manner sometimes made it seem
impossible that she was not the same
woman who had come so happily to
3iis arms in the cold, bleak room of
'the little hotel high up in the moun
tains.
She told Giles frankly that she
I don’t think any one—even your
mother—could hate me any more if
she knew what I know.”
“What do you mean?”
Julie’lowered her voice.
“If yop would like to drive me
home afterwards I will tell you.”
“What is it you were going to tell
me?” Giles asked after they got into
her car. He felt an immense cur
iosity in this woman, and also an
inexplicable pity for her, which
somehow angered him,
According to all accounts she was
worthless and heartless, and yet . .
once before he had blundered into
tragedy through listening ;to and
believing the tjhings other people
said.
The car stopped’.
“We are just home,” Julie -said.
“Come in, and I'll tell you.”
Julie threw herself .down into a
big chair with a half sigh.
Giles sai() nothing. He
leaning against the mantel-shelf
looking down at her, vaguely con
scious of something tragic that seem
ed to have stolen into the room dur
ing the last few moments. Suddenly
Julie raised her eyes.
“I’m glad you don’t ask thousands
-of questions,”
such a Testful person, Mr. Chitten-
liam. I can be quite sure that you
’wont say ‘Oh, my God!’ or anything
like that when I tell you that I am
going to die.”
“I don’t look like it, do I?” she
queried whimsically. “But it’s true,
all the same. It’s quite signed and
sealed, with no hope of a reprieve.
I’ve been to -very specialist in Lon
don who would take my money, and
stood
- - - * i the
He died, and then
■thing of the kind had finished
other Julie too. I-- , ,
it was as if I died too, all that was
best of ine at least land all .the hate
ful rotten part lived on I
in Julie is like that now!
be in the family, Perhaps
know her well enough to
recognize it, but I do! I
she said. ‘/You’re
liad been a liftle nervous^of meet-, sajr same th^g^ There
ing him. j
“I thought perhaps the family’
■hatred had extended itself to you,”
rfihe said bitterly'! “Life is very un- j
Idnd to some of us, Mr. Chittenham. j
1 am glad you do not hate me -as.
3>adly as I had expected you would.”
Chittenham hesitated.
“When I was >on the other side
■of tho world my hatred fOT you was
a very real and vital thing,” he said
gravely. “I used to hope for an
opportunity to, well—” He shrug
ged his shoulders and smiled.
J ‘Avenge’ is such a melodramatic
word, isn’t it?”
“There is no other word that
^jives quite the same explanation,”
.she answered. “Don’t you still
Jiope for it?”
“No.”
“What made you change?”
Giles looked away from her down
SLe crowded little restaurant, and
in an aching imagination he saw
xigain the bare, ugly room of the
.xuountain hotel, and heard tlie wind
‘liowling as it flung the soft suow
.against the windows.
•' “Something happened—” lie
She did not answer at once,
;««<lie said queitly:
/ “Well, whatever it was, I am glad
.don’t want to be hated any more.
said,
then
COUS-
miist
don’t
it or
My
It
you
see
___ _ knew di
rectly she came home from Switzer
land .... We’ve never been great
friends—I told you she didn’t ap
prove of me! But the day after she
came home—about six weeks ago, I
suppose it must be, or more—she
came to see me, and she said: ”1
want to ask your pardon for all the
hard things I've said to you and
thought of you. You’ve been right,
and I’ve been wrong all the time. It’s
no use trying to bo good—-'it’s no
use 'trying, to lead a decent life. Tlio
only way is to get every ounce of
pleasure possible, never mind at
whose expense. That’s what I’m go
ing to do in the future—that’s what
she said.”
“I said; ‘You poor little fool!—
there’s no man in all the world
worth breaking your heart over’—
she would admit anything, of course,
■” Julje laughed soft-
r there is something
•something I
Will you
•the other Julie?
I know
through.
but I knew!—’
ly. “And now
I want to ask you-
want you to do for me.
be kind to Julie?
I’m so sorry for her.
what she’s going
been through it all myself, you
And I think you could help
You’re the sort of man who under
stands. If you’ll just be friends
with her—”
“I’ll do 'anything I can, but . . ”
“She’s got amongst a horrible set
of people,” Julie said. “Not really
vicious people, but silly and worth
less! They make her drink too much,
and swear—^and sit 'tip all nght,
and she’® not' that sort! -She won’t
be able to bear it as well as I used
to. I saw her the other night. .She’s
got hold of a new friend—”
“You mean—-Schofield. I-Ie’s not
a bad fellow—”
“No. Its a girl—ja common little
American—”
“American?”
“Yes—a girl named Sadie Barrow
—'why, do you know her?” for Giles
had made a sudden convulsive move
ment.
“No-
just
I’ve
see.
her.
could be an operation, but I won’t
have it. I hate the idea of the
knife, especially as it can’t be a cure
—'but only just a way of prolonging
life for a little while. I don’t think
I want to prolong it either. It’s not
been such fun when one look's back.’
“What are you going to do then?”
“I’m going abroad. Couldn’t bear
the idea -of dying in London, where
so many people know me, so I’m go
ing right away where I shan’t know
any one, and nobbdy will know me.
What do you think of it, Mr. Chit
tenham?”
“I think you’re a very brave wo
man,” Giles said, and suddenly lie
leaned down and took her hand. To
his surprise the tears welled up in- don’t know her
to her eyes and splashed on her frock. ‘ J
“That’s foolish of me, isn’t it?”i
she said. “And( they’re not because
I’m frightened . . these tears! It’s
just because the way you took hold
of my hand reminded me of some
one ...” She drew a hard breath
as if -of pain. “Some one I really)
loved. There was a man I once really;
loved, Mr. Chittenham.”
“I am sure there was.”“He died ...” Julie sat very'
still for a moment, then she gently
drew her hand away. “That finish-, before him. II________
ed me, in the same way that some-! towards her and took .her hand.
-yes ... at least . . no, I
” Not know her!
Sadie Barrow? His own wife.^
So .Sadie had come to Loiiiion
without acquainting him of the fact.
Giles Chittenham felt cold With
auger.
How the devil must be laughing at
this successful double-eross which
had not only brought Sadie to Eng
land when he least wished to see
her, but,,_had thrown her across
Julie’s path.
Confound all women! Chittenhain
thought, then he looked again at the
one sitting crouehing in the chair
He stooped impulsively
a
SSOLD IN
IETER BY
“I should like to be your friend,
too, if I may. I should like to be
able to help you.”
“Thank you, and, Giles—’’
“Yes.’’
“I was never quite as wicked as
people have made out. It was not
my fault about—Rodney. I told
'him so many times it was useless—
why, he was only a boy compared to
3—a spoilt, weak boy.’’
“I was afraid he was.”
“So don’t think too badly of me.”
She drew her hand gently away.
“And now—please go. I’m so tired’.”
She did not look at him or rise
from hei' chair, and Giles walked re
luctantly to the door, pausing when
he reached it to look back. It seem
ed horrible to leave her like that—
alone. Horrible to think that of all
the friends and lovers she had known
there was not one to stand by h§r
now and hold her hand as she went
through the dark valley lying be
fore her.
A day or two later he saw a smajl
announcement in a newspaper to the
effect that .she had gone abroad,
and would be- absent for some time,
and that no letters would be for-
wared. It was the same night that
his mother rang _
to inform him that she was g:
a party.
“When?” he asked,
“A lot of people yog don’t know—-
She yang off and Giles turned
away from the telephone with a
shrug of his shoulders, It was only
when he was Ju his mother’s house
that he suddenly realized that in all
probability Sadie woul be there also.
Fo& -a moment he hesitated, a sudden
chill feeling at his heart, then he
philosophically pushed the thought
aside and went on.
■She was almost the first person he
saw when he entered Mrs. Ardron’s
crowded drawing-TOom.
'She was talking to a group of
people which included Julie Farrow
and several others whom Giles knew
slightly, and
caught sight
airy hand,
Giles went
He did not know in the least what
sort of reception to expect' from his
wife, but after he had greeted Julie
and the others whom he knew, it
was she who isaid in her insistent
way:
“Present your friend.”
It' was Ju'lie who obeyed.
“Mr, Chittenham. Miss Barrow—”
“Pleased to meet you,” Sadie said
impudently.
There -was a twinkle in her eyes
for which
her.
Schofield
ing happily
“We haven’t met lately, Mr. Chit
tenham,” Julie was saying. “Where
have you been hiding?' So kind of
. your mother to ask me here to-night.’ .
“So kind of you to come,” Giles
answered -formally. He could see
that Sadie was manoeuvring to reach
his side, and presently they were a
little apart from the rest.
“Isn’t jt -a scream?” Sadie remark
ed. “Fancying meeting you in your
own mother’s house, and she not
knowing that she’s entertaining her
daughter-in-law ? ”
“You are at' perfect liberty to tell
coolly, though inwardly he was rag-
coolly, thought inwardly he was rag
ing. “I have no doubt that
told other people already.”
She gave a little scream of repu
diation.
“Tell any one! Not me! It would
cook my little goose once for all if it
were known that I’d got such high
ly respectable relations. No, thanks
Freedom for me all the time, and if
there’s anything left over, freedom
again.”
“Why have you .come to London?”
Her face changed subtly.
“Not to find you, -my lambkin, so
don’t worry! I’ve come to have a
good time, and don’t you interfere,
or it will be the worse for you.”
“Sadie, the situation is impossible
She laughed in his face.
“Rubbish! Don’t pretend that you
want’ me to come back to you.”
Sadie shrugged her naked shoul
ders. “Times changed!” she isaid.
She moved away from him, her slim,
scantily-clad body swaying with a
little impudent movement.
Giles watched her with hard eyes.
And this was his wife! The com
mon little ... he pulled his own
thoughts up sharply, ashamed of
them, After all, he had once thought
her good enough to marry.
Giles turned again to Julie.
“I suppose it would be utterly
useless for me to :asl< you' to drop
this damnable,,play-acting?”
“My dear man, what on earth do
you mean?”
“What I say. You’re never nat
ural for a single moment. You hate
this sort of—of piffle—as much as
I hate it. You—you despise people
like—like these people here—”
Julie laughed serenely.
“I brought Lawrence and Sadie
Barrow. By the way, what do you
think of Sadie?”
“Is she a new friend of yours?”
(To be continued)
it was ’Julie who first
of him and waved an
straight across to her,
was
upon
For tho past 51 years'
MANUFACTUnifcD ONLY BY
THE T, CO., Limited
&he° Sunday School Wesson
By CHARLES G. TRIJMBULL, Litt, D,
SLMON PETER
(From Weakness tp Strength)
Sunday, Noy. 2.—Mark 8:27-29
Luke 22:31-34; John 18<25-27, 21
15-17.
could have shaken
with Julie, beam-
every one.
you
Golden Text
“Now when they saw the boldness
of Peter and John, and perceived
that they were unharmed
ant men, they marvelled
took knowledge of .them,
had been with Jesus.’’ '
(Acts 4:13.)
and ignor-
and
that
they
they
1
“From Weakness to
seems rather an inadequate descrip
tion of Simon Peter’s experiences
and great change. Might it not bet
ter be called “From Cowardice to
Ckmrage,” o'r, better still, “From
Sin to Righteousness?”
For Simon Peter was not only weak
and cowardly, as we all are, he was
a. sinner, helplessly in the bondage
of sjn as we all are, It yras. his sin
that made him a coward, that made
him weak. Only the,,righteousness
of God, 'given to him as God’s gift
in Christ, could de/"away with his
cowardice and weakness and sin 'and
change him into the glorious apostle
he became.
It was a blessed day foi’ Peter
when he .said, clearly and boldly and
with God-given, knowledge and faith,
“Thou 'are the Christ.” The Lord
had just asked His- disciples 'what
was being said about Him. The var
ious popular. answers were given:
That He was, John the Baptist, Eli
jah, one of the prophets. When the
Lord said to His disciples, “But
whom say ye that I am?” it was Pe
ter who answered for the rest.
How did Peter know that the man
Jesus was the Christ, the Anointed
One of God, the Messiah of whom
the Old Testament Scriptures pro
phesied?; Matthew’s Gospel tells us.
The Lord at once called Peter bless
ed and explained: “For flesh and
blood hath'not revealed it' unto thee
but my Father which is in Heaven”
(Matt. 16:17). It was not the
brightness or quickness of Peter’s
mind, but the grace of God, .that en
abled the disciple to know who
Christ was. With this God-given
knowledge and faith there came the
greater responsibility.
When any man accepts
faith and follows Him, as
done, that0 man becomes
mark for Satan. The devil
everything in his power to destroy
the faith of those vzho believe in
Christ. It was some time after this
that the Lord said, “Simon, Simon,
behold, Satan hath desired to have
you, that he may sift you-as wheat.”
Satan was permitted to
as he is permitted to
believer. Was
to fail?
(Doubtless it
completely and
been-left to himself .and his own
strength, which was- only weakness.
But -the Lord continued: “But I
have prayed for thee, that thy faith,
fail not;; and when thou are convert
ed (hast turned back again) streng
then thy brethren.” That is the se-
Strength
cret Qf the continuing faith of ever#
Christian: the Lord’s unceasing in-t
tercession in their behalf (Hb. 7.25 ,
Peter evidently could not believft
what the Lord had told him; he.hdd
no fears for himself, but readily .^e-?
clared that he was ready to go with)
the Lord 'both to prison and even to)
death, Then came the solemn ap$
staggering prediction by Christ thaf|
before the cock should crow *'than
day—that is, before the dawn of a!
new day—rPeter would deny his Lortt
three times, denying that he even)
knew Him. (
If ever a man was warned, Peteij
was. But he fell into tragic failuraf
—as we all have done. During that)
very night, when the Lord had been)
praying in agony in Gethsemane am®
Peter, James and > John, had
Christ by
Peter had
a shining
does
Peter’s
attack1 Peter
attack
faith
every
going
would
forever if he had
have failed
Peter, James and > John, had fdilpill
Him by sleeping when He as^jfy
them to watch with Him, and tiffed
Christ's enemies came and took Him) _
into 'arrest. Peter was taunted byjV
a sevant girl as -belonging to ;th&
followers of Jesus Christ. • ' |
The Satan sifting had cetrainl^
begun, for Peter answered: “Wo
man, I know Him not.” After a
while another person called him
disciple, and again Peter denied. A)
third time came the charge, and a)
third time the denial,
lately the cock' crew
came to himself
tears.
Tlie Lord was
Peter—that is the
God’s, undeserved
Christ h&d risen from the dead H0
■sent a special message to Peter by;
name, and to the other disciples, tell
ing them to meet Him. As Peter;
had denied his Lord three times, so
now that Lord three times gave Pe
ter an opportunity of wiping out the
denial by a declaration of love. He
asked the disciple whether he loved.
Him, and when Peter declared he did:
there came the'commission: “Feed
my lambs.” The second and third-
time, after question and answer,
came the commission: “Feed bjT
sheep.”
It is significant that the Lord used
a stronger and deeper word for,
“love” when He asked Peter thia- •
question in the first two instances,.
and each time Peter used a word'
meaning a lesser degree of love. The*
third time the Lord used the lesser-
word, and Peter responded with th&*
same word. Peter had lost some of
his self-confidence now, so there was-,
hope for him. And the Lord renew
ed his commission, as He does with-’
all who have turned away from Hint
and then come back again. p
But even now Peter lacked som^\
thing, and it came on the Day of
Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit was
given to the disciples in that great
Spirit-baptism which began an utter
ly new ,day and experience for Chris
tian believers. Then, indeed, Peter-
became a man of 'Strength and cour
age and righteousness. That day, lie*
preached in the power of the Holy
Spirit' such, a sermon as. he never1
could have preached before he was
filled with. the Spirit’. That same’
Holy -Spirit indwells every true be
liever in Christ, and is ready to fill
eveTy believer, instantly and contin
ually, on the simple condition of
surrender of faith.
“And imined-”
and PeteiS
in hearMirokeri;
I
not through witE
meaning of grace,,
favor. After the;
Was Troubled With
INDIGESTION
After Every IWeal
B. B. B. is the medicine the sufferer
from dyspepsia or indigestion require3
to put the Stomach into shape as it
regulates the bowels, promotes perfect
digestion, tones up the stomach, and
restores perfect health to the system.
Mrs, J. D. Huggins, Onward, Sask.,
writes:—“I was troubled with in
digestion after every meal, and could
hardly stand ths pain in my stomach.
A friend advised Burdock Blood Bittern
and after the first bottle I was greatly
relieved. I have now finished the
third bottle, and I can eat any thing I
like ahd enjoy my meals without that
terrible indigestion I had suffered after
every meal?’
>■-
HERON COVNTY BOYS
PICKED FOR “ROYAL”
The f-ourth annual Royal Judging
Competition to select ten boys to
take advantage of the free trip to
the Royal Winter Fair was held at
Clinton, Wednesday, October 22nd.
There were thirty-six boys to$k part
in this contest and competition was
very keen in every class. ’The pos
sible sc-ore was 850.
The winners of the free trip are
are follows:
Benny Walsh, Blyth R.R. „ No. 3,
721; George Mundell, Glenanan, 708
Raymond Benninger, Wingham, R.
R. No. 4, 699; Harold Vincent, Bel
grave, R.R. No. 1, 69 8; Douglas
‘ , R.R- No. 3, ivingi697; Chas. Williams, Clinton, R.R.
°iNo. 2, 680; John James Turner,
~....... ruthlessly! Clinton 679; Ted. Elliott, Wingham,
cutting short her voluble explana- No- 4) 678; Norman Stanlake,
up on the telephone'; Hemingway, Brussels,
tions.
“To-night. Twelve midnight, Giles.
There’ll be ham and eggs and hot
coffee about four.”
“Good Lord.”
“Don’t talk like that. It will be
such fun. Everyone’s coming!”
“Who is everyone?”
“Doris, of course—.“lie’s bringing
party. And Lawrence Schofield-—
“What made you ask him?”
“To please Miss Farrow,
They’re always together!
believe they will make a
it.”
“I thought
Farrow?”
“Well, just
don’t! But I
broad-minded
see, it takes
world.'”
“It certain!
you didiVt
of course.
I really
match of
like M
between ourselves, I
find that one must be
in these matters. You
all sorts to make a
y Who .else?
/
f
>78; Norman Stanlake,
Exeter, R.R. No. 1, 678; Harold Mit
chell, Centralia 678.
The Canadian National Shield for
the high boy in the competition Who
had never before taken part
county competition was won toy
man Stanlake, of Exeter.
The judges were Messrs. F.
syth and L. Kerr, Walkerton;
•slee Berry, London; C. D. Graham,
Stratford and A. V. Langton, Mark
dale.
The competition was held under
the direction of th.e Clinton Branch
of the Ontario Department cf Agri
culture.
in a
Nor
For-
Ain-
“Metis” Dancers for Quebec
The prediction is made that- civili
zation will continue for*50,000 years.
This is a reassuring thought to'have
with you on those week-end parties
where it seems to be all over except j
the shouting. j
T? rom far-off Edmonton, outpost
of Canada’s wide West, to old
Quebec, cradle of her civilization
and gateway from Europe under
both French and English regimes,
a group of men and maidens of
mixed French-Indian and Scotch-
Indian blood will bring then' tri
bute to the shrine of Terpsichore,
when the Dance and Folk- Song
Festival opens at the Canadian
Pacific Railway’s Chateau Fron
tenac hotel, on October 16th, 1930,
There are twelve/iiy.thc party and
all proudly clainf’&at their ances
try gives them the prime right to
the title of “Canadian”. The above
drawing by Kathleen Shackleton,
noted portraitist, made from life,
shows, the beauty resultant from
the mingling of the European and
Indian stocks. As performers, the.
Westerners have a varied pro
gramme to offer, including toe--
dancing m moccasins,
’ •' <