The Wingham Advance-Times, 1939-10-26, Page 6>AC»$IX WINGHAM ADVANCE-TIMES Thursday, October 26, 19395
PAYS IN SHELLS
SYNOPSIS
Nineteen-year-old Anne Ordway
realizes suddenly that something is
wrong between her father and moth-
«r. She hears servants whispering
and senses tension when her mother
asks her father for money before her
bridge game with the Dorsays—and
David. Anne adores her beautiful
mother, Elinor, and her father, Fran
cis; and she had always liked and
trusted their old friend, David. Yet
st is David about -whom the servants
are whispering. Vicky, Anne’s com
panion, is aware of the situation, too.
Anne steals away to meet Garry
Brooks in the moonlight and they
meet a strange man at a campfire.
Wakened at two by the sound of her
mother’s ringing, Anne, from the stair |
landing, sees David with his arms!
around Elinor. She tells Vicky, her I
companion. Vicky pretends to smell]
smoke and goes to the drawing-room. I
David leaves before Francis comes |
home. Vicky remonstrates with Anne. I
Elinor’s face darkened. “Why?"
“I want to get her away."
“From me?”
“From both of us—if you will have
it—and the life we lead.”
“What's the matter with the life
we lead?"
“You know as well as I. It’s good
enough for you and me, perhaps. We
have made our beds and we’ve got to
lie on them. But it isn’t good enough
for Anne. And besides there’s Garry.”
“What’s the matter with Garry?"
“Nothing—as Garry. But a lot as
Anne’s husband.”
Vicky spoke. “You can trust Anne.
And may I say something about your
plan for sending her away?”
“Of course.”
“I think if Anne goes at all,
should go with her mother."
They stared at her.
“With me?" Elinor asked, amazed.
“Do you mean,” Francis demanded,
“that you are separating yourself from
Anne? You can’t do that!”
“Only for a time."
she
She shrugged her shoulders and
went slowly up the stairs.
Left alone in the library with
Vicky, Francis said, “She put on that
dress for—David?”
* Vicky had no reply for that .But'
after an interval in which she stared
into the fire she said,’ “Sometimes
things are not so serious as they seem
— and if you will only send her away
»
“Elinor?”
“Yes.”
“But why with Anne?"
“Anne loves her. And it will give
her time to think.”
"Elinor?"
“Yes."
“But where will you go, Vicky?”
“To my home on the Eastern
Shore.”
“What will -Anne say? She won’t
let you go, Vicky.”
“She will when I tell her."
“What will you tell her?"
“That her moter needs her.”
“You think," Francis
Maj-Gen. A. G. L. McNaughton,
■who commands the first Canadian Di
vision, believes in conserving man
power. “To win a battle or a war you
pay,” he says. “You pay in one of
two coins, shells or blood. It’s been
my plan and "will be my plan to pay
in shells.”
asked tense-
Elinor threw herself into a chair,
and the rose and silver of her gown;
and the deeper rose of the chair’s
back seemed to mock the whiteness
of her face. “How much is she my
child? You’ve been with her since she
was five. You’ve taken my place. And
Francis did that, not I.”
He did it because you said you hat
ed being tied down.
But there was more to it than that.
Vicky had not told the whole story.
Of how Francis Ordway had come
home late one night from Baltimore
io find Anne with a raging fever and
in the care of an ignorant nursemaid,
while Elinor was off to a hunt ball
-at the country club. When he tele
phoned her, she had refused to come
until the dancing was over. So Fran
cis had sent for Vick'y and Vicky had
stayed.
“I lost a lot tonight and I didn't
dare ask David to help me out. Do
you think it is true, Vicky, what
Francis said? That David is in debt
to him?"
“He wouldn’t have said it -if it
weren’t true,” Vicky stated positively.
Elinor’s losses of late had been so
great that she had used desperate
means to get money to pay them.
Now she was .at her wits’ end, and in
spite of her resentment of Vicky’s in
terference in her affairs, it seemed as
if Vicky after all was the only stable
thing in her world.
Suddenly they heard the big car
outside.
• In another moment Francis enter-(
ed. He stopped on the threshold and. Elinor’s hands went out in a little
looked his surprise. “Not in bed yet?”; gesture of impatience. “And if it isn’t
he asked. ‘ ! Garry, it will be somebody else. Oh,
“I have been,” Vicky said, “but I. I’m too tired to argue, Francis. I’m
- smelled smoke and came down.” ?going to bed.” She stood up, slender
Elinor said, “It was the fireplace.” and shining in her pink and sjlver.
“I’ll go upstairs now,” said Vicky, ] Her husband, his eyes on her shiu-
■*T’m tired.” j ing slimness, said abruptly, “I thought
Francis stopped her with a motion .you Were wearing black' when I left.”
of his hand. “No. Sit down, Vicky. J “I was, but I hate black.” She
I’m glad I found you here. I want to ‘ threw the words over her shoulder aS
tall? about Anne.” ; she left him, but when she reached
“Yes?” But Vicky did not sit down.' the threshold she turned. "We had a .have tried to see her again—
“I’ve been wondering if you and rotten game. I suppose it’s useless to once more her exquisiteness,
she might not like a winter in the ask you for any more money?”
south of France?” | “I gave you all I could spare.”
I
i
David’s arms were around her mother.
“But why Vicky?”
“Anne must learn to lean on her
own strength. Not on mine.”
Elinor interposed, “But I don’t
want to go away. I’ve planned my
winter—and Anne’s. And what does
it matter if she marries Garry? He
has money and good looks, and -wor
ships the ground she walks on.”
AHe worships himself, Elinor.
Anne would be just an addition to his
other possessions.”
“Aren’t most wives just that?”
ly, “that it isn’t too late?”
She spoke with
confidence.
“Sometimes life
problems for us.”
“What a fatalist
She smiled wistfully. “Perhaps it
isn’t fatalism. Perhaps- it is faith. And
don’t worry about Anne. She’s a
strong little thing, with all her soft
ness.”
She saw his face quivering with
deep emotion. “I worship her,” he
said. “She’s the one lovely thing in
this rotten world.”
She had no words for that, and she
left him standing by the fire, his eyes
on the dying flames.
.Meanwhile the man in the meadow
had not found sleep under the stars.
It had been an enchanting adven
ture with that child in the moonlight.
A rare moment to tuck away in one’s
memory. And that was all. Yet if
i things had been different he would
i have tried to see her again—to savor
a certain serene
works out our
you are!”
ft
He had not thought there was such
a girl in this modern world. She had
THESE FIGHTING MacKENZIES CARRY ON FAMILY TRADITION
Historic Halifax, steeped in tradi
tion as a naval and military city, has
seen 36 members of active service
forcestraining there come from seven "‘three elder brothers served in the
Hova Scotia fighting families, Ona of
the “brother acts’* comes from Brid-
gewater, N.S., in the persons of Har
old, Dougald and Earle MacKenzie,
now recruits iti the R.C.A.F, Their
Canadian iftifantry in the last war and
the present fficttiits are c&rrylhg ch
the family tradition. ’‘We all signed
up as soon as war broke out and
are going to see who gets ahead
fastest/' says Howard, eldest of
three aspirant fliers.
we
the
the
recalled to his mind the painting of
Bourgereau that he had seen in a Bal
timore gallery of a young maiden
with a lamb in her arms. “Innocence”
was the name in the catalogue. Well,
she was lik'e that—virginal, with a
curious touch of vividness.
The chances were that she would
marry the young man. A woman was
like that—propinquity and a man
madly in love -with her! She would
mistake her need of love for loving.
It was no business of his, of course.
That was why he had sent her away.
That he might never see her again,
and that she might never guess his
identity. Why should he impose his
past on her? Why speak the name
she would see black in the headlines
if she opened the morning paper?
That was the worst of it—the pap
ers and the things they said. This
very pilgrimage of his was an escape
from it all. If he could only tell her
the truth! She would, he thought, un
derstand.
In a few hours he would be on his
way and Anne would forget him. But
he didn’t want to be forgotten. He
looked at his watch. Two-thirty. No
more sleep tonight! He put another
stick on the fire and by the light of
the leaping flames wrote a letter, tear
ing leaves from his notebook until he
had a sheaf of them. He addressed
an envelope, sealed it and made his
way across the meadow, coming at
last to the garden and the tall hedge.
He found the curtains drawn at the
windows of the big house, so he
could see nothing. Following a flag
ged path he reached the driveway,
and a tall iron gate with a niail box
hung on the brick wall beside it
where he posted his letter. Retracing
his steps he stood again on the little
hill where earlier in the evening Anne
had met Garry, and looked down ov.-
er the sleeping garden.
From the height where he stood,
Charles could see straight through
the window of a darkened room on
the second floor of fhe house and be
yond that to the lighted hall. And as
he looked a wdman came within his
line of vision. She was ascending the
stairs.
He saw her—first her head, then
the whiteness of her neck and arms,
then rosy and shining as the dawn,
her pink and silver gown with an al
most startling beauty like the splen
did ladies in Romney’s paintings or
Sir Joshua’s. But her beauty left
Charles cold. Such goddesses belong
ed in portraits to be hung on walls!
He had a feeling that the woman was
Anne’s mother, Yet there was noth
ing in common between the golden-
lighted loveliness of the daughter and
the dark brilliance of the other.
She stood now in the open door of
the darkened room. She seemed to
hesitate, then entered and was lost in
the gloom. A shaft of moonlight
striking through the shadows shone
on a glimmering heap of whiteness
that seemed to catch and hold the
light in a pool of radiance. And it
was toward this pool of radiance that
a hand came presently out of the
darkness—a white hand and a., bare
and slender arm.
Then all at once the hand was With
drawn, and where there had been that
shimmering heap was empty space!
And in the long and lighted hall a
flash of pink and silver as a tall fig»
ure went flying toward a room at the
far end.
Charles wondered a bit as he made
his way down the hill, There had
been an air of mystery about the wo
man’s movements. But one’s imagin
ation plays tricks at times. And there
was undoubtedly a perfectly common
place solution to the scene.
When he returned to his camp his
.fire was dying, little spirals of wood
smoke scenting acridly the air about
him. How Margot had loved that ac-
' rid scent!
“I shall never forget this, Carl," she
had said cm their honeymoon. “I
shall never forget. And now she had
forgotten. It was he would remember
■ those other nights under the moon,
when he and she had built their little
fires — “Altars to our gods, Carl" —
and had watched the flames die and
the coals glow and the smoke curling.
Wonderful .nights, wonderful days,
yet before the honeymoon was over
he had known that there were altars
in his own soul where Margot would
never worship with him, Still he had
loved her, doggedly refusing to be
lieve her anything else than he had
thought her until the day had come
when she had flung him and his love
away.
And now —> woodsmoke and the
thought of Anne; •
Would a man dare love more than
once? And if he did, would there
not come memories of that first and
splendid passion that had swept over
him as a boy?
Charles cast the thought from him
and jumping to his feet began to ga
ther up his o belongings. When Tie
came to the cup from which Anne
had drunk he stood with it in his
hand for a moment, then dropped it
on a rock where it splintered into a
thousand pieces.
Thus in the old days men had
splintered their glasses when they had
drunk to the queen! sHe smiled a lit
tle as he went on with his packing.
He recognized in himself the incur
able romantic. But romantic or not,
no one should drink again from the
cup which that charming child had
lifted to her lips.
He quenched his fire with water
from the nearby stream, and a little
later his car slid from under the
shadowy pines and into the open.
(Continued Next Week)
DISEASE HAZARDS
250 YEARS AGO
Silicosis and other occupational,,
hazards to which modern science
gives much attention not only exist
ed centuries ago, but they were also
recognized then.
Neither is compensation laws for
industrial diseases a new idea. They
were proposed as far back as 1690
when a Venetian doctor, Bernardino
Ramazzini wrote a work' on Diseas-
se, of Tradesmen (“De Morbis Arti-
ficium.”)' . ,
A copy of this book was recently
found in the 'University of Pennsyl
vania library and its translation
brings opt facts that are most inter
esting in view of the period in which
it.* was written.
Ramazzini, it appears, made a prac
tice of leaving the sick bed and go
ing to where the patient worked, to
study materials, and hygienic condi
tions as a clue to the illness. In that
way he obtained information, which
he carefully recorded, on certain oc
cupational diseases known today. He
By BETTY BARCLAY
And they’re here again, with all the full flavor and brilliant color that-
appetites crave in Fall meals. Gay and sturdy, this earliest American.,
fruit has both eye and taste appeal. Cranberry Catsup is as tangy e.
condiment as ever complemented a baked ham, a succulent roast beef,,
or a tender duckling.
Originally discovered growing wild on the low marshes of Cape Cod,,
the cranberry has an honorable history. Tradition says that the Pilgrims -
learned how to use the sour wild berry from their Indian neighbors..
Since then, over one hundred years of cultivation have improved the-
taste and nutritive content of the fruit so that it is now a food high tax
vitamins and minerals.
But enough of health talk. Cranberries are good to look at and good'
to taste and that’s the best possible reason for using them in the many
modern ways suggested here.
o Cranberry Catsup
4 pounds fresh cranberries / 2 teaspoons ground cinnamon-.
2 cups vinegar ... 1 teaspoon ground cloves
2 cups water . \ - 1 teaspoon allspice
4 cups brown sugar a 1 teaspoon salt
Cook cranberries, vinegar and water together until all the skins pop
open. Put through sieve. Combine with remaining,ingredients and cook,
together for 5 minutes. Seal in hot sterilized jars. Makes 2^ quarts-.
catsup.
Cranberry Nut Bread (
% cup chopped walnuts
Grated rind 1 orange
1 egg
1 cup milk
2 tablespoons melted butter
1 cup cranberries
1 cup sugar
3 cup.8 flour
4 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
Put cranberries through food chopper and mix with Yi cup of sugar. Sift,
remaining sugar, flour, baking powder and salt together and add nuts
and orange rind. Beat egg slightly, combine with milk and melted butter
and add to first mixture. Fold in cranberries. Bake in buttered bread
pan in moderate oven, 350° F., about 1 hour.
•,-T
Winter Fruit Tarts
2 cups fresh cranberries, halved 2 cups sugar ?
2 cups chopped apple % teaspoon salt
cup pineapple tidbits 6 tart shells
% cup whipped creamCombine cranberries, apple, pineapple, sugar and salt and let stand for
2 to 3 hours. Just before serving, fill tart shells with fruit mixture; top
with whipped cream. Makes 6 tarts.
knew about silicosis — the disabling
lung disease — which he saw afflict
ing the dust-breathing workers in the
pottery and glass-making industries.
Ramazzini anticipated modern sanita
tion methods by suggesting that ma
terials be wetted to keep dust down
and that arrangements be made for
adequate ventilation.
Speaking of the occupational haz
ards of the white collar workers of
two and a half centuries ago, he said
of scholars, that "the sedentary post
ure and intense concentration were
bad for digestion. He even discussed
writer’s cramp. His prescription for
these^ill's was “Get more of the out
doors into your life.”
“Don’t you think this is a rare bit.
of art?"
“Yes, ‘rare’ is the word. It certain
ly isn’t well done.”