The Wingham Advance-Times, 1940-01-04, Page 6WINGHAM ADVANCE-TIMES Thursday, January 4 th, 1940
SYNOPSIS
Anne Ordway, nineteen, is afranl of
marriage, of love. Her parents, Fran
cis and EJinor, are divorced and the
bottom^ drops out of Anne's world.
She does not want to marry Garry
.Brooks, whom she has known all her
life. She goes to live with her com
panion, Vicky, in her farm home.
Charles Patterson, whose wife, Mar
got has brought sensational charges
against him, in a divorce suit, is in
love with her. Anne has just decided
that perhaps she will marry Charles
when Garry, just returned from Eui-
ope, comes to see her. He is jealous
of Charles. Garry tells Margot of
their engagement. Margot, wishing
to go back to Charles, visits Anne,
but Anne is away seeing her father,
in response to a letter from her mo
ther in which she says she needs
money, and asks Anne to persuade
Francis to give Elinor an allowance.
Margot comes to see Anne and makes
her promise to give Charles up. Then
she goes to Charles and saying she is
ill, begs him to take her back.
Francis was aware that .here was a
different Elinor from the one he had
known. David had waked in her
something which had never before
been waked.
David had sinned against his friend.
He had sinned against society. But
there was something about him that
was holding Elinor, commanding her
jrespect as he, Francis, had never
commanded it.
He said gently, “I hold no grudge
against David.”
l“You were always splendid,” she
said, and he smiled a little at the ex
travagance of her praise.
Her beauty still shone and sparkled,
but it left him cold. "Go back and
. tell David,” he said, “to let the pa^t
bury the past. Whatever mistakes we
have made, whatever enmities we have
felt, seem of little account when we
come so near the end of things as I
have come . .” his voice died away and
presently he reached opt his hand to
hen
"We were a pair of fools, Ellie,” he
said. “A pair of fools. You found the
right word for it. But we can’t go
back. That’s the tragedy of it—that
life cannot be lived over again.”
“I wouldn’t know how to live it ov
er again if I had a chance,” she said
shakily. “That’s. always been the
trouble with me, Francis. I’m a ship
without a rudder.” She rose. “Anne
will stay with you?1
“I think she will. I’m not sure it
will be the best thing for her. But
I’m selfish.”
“And Vicky?”
“Vicky will go back to the school.”
Elinor glanced at him. His face was
impassive. “What does Anne think of
that—the separation?”
“It will be hard for her, but Vicky
insists. ’ And they will see each other
often. Vicky will come here for all
holidays.”
Downstairs Garry, helping Anne
trim the Christmas tree, was also ask
ing questions. “When are you and
Vicky going back?” "
“I’m not going back at all, Garry,”
“You mean you’re going to stay
here?” he demanded,
“Yes. I’ll miss the children, but
Daddy needs me.”
“Anne, may I come and see you?”
“Why not?” She was tossing glit
tering shreds of Silver over the tree’s
brandies. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”
“Are we friends, Anne? Am I for
given?”
She smiled. “Of course, Garry.”
“I acted like an idiot, but I was
mad with jealousy of Patterson.”
She was still tossing silver shreds
over the tree, and she did not answer
him. Her silencg should have warn
ed him, but he went on, “Whatever
made him marry his wife again
She turned and faced him. “We’ll
stay friends if you stop talking about
Charles. He did what was best and
right, and I honor him for it.”
For a moment he said nothing, then
at last with a touch of sullenness,
“You win, of course, In the future
we’ll forget him,
They talked then about other
things and she kept him. hard at work.
“You’re a great help,” she told him
as he hung a wax angel at the very
top. “I wish you could be here to fix
the electric lights.”
and her cheeks flashed as she became
aware of their curiosity.
, Elinor asked with lively interest,
“When did you get him?”
“Charles gave him to me,”
“Before he went away?”
“N-o, I had a letter . . Anne hat
ed this catechism, but couldn’t stop
it, She might stop Garry, but not her
mother.
“Queer thing, that marriage.” Elin
or was putting on her gloves, Then
as she saw the flame in Anne’s cheeks
she said with unusual tenderness, “I’m
glad he gave you his dog, Anne,”
Anne did not answer.
When they had gone Anne went
soberly and though tfully*back to her
tree.
She hated to give'up her school and
her life with Vicky, but the doctor
had been insistent. “Your father has
been, very much weakened by his ill
ness,” he told her. “He needs you,
Anne. After, Christmas I’d like to
send you south with him.”
And that had seemed to settle it,
Vicky would, have one of her younger
sisters take Anne’s place in the school.
And in June they would all be toge
ther. They must,look forward to that.
“If you would only go with us,
Vicky,” Anne had pleaded.
Vicky had said quietly, but with
decision: /‘My people need me at
“Can’t you love me a little, darling?” Garry asked.
“Do you mean that you’re asking
me to come and do it?”
“Yes. Tonight.”
“Anne; you’re an angel. You ought
to be up there instead of the wax
ones.”
They laughed together and Elinor,
coming down, looked from one to the-
other. "Buried the hatchet?”
“Deep. Ann’e' a wonder, Elinor.”
“I thought you always knew it.”
“I did, but I’m learning it again.”
When they were ready tq go Elin
or said, “You must come and see us,
Anne. And we’ll show you our dogs,
David and I. We have some wonder
ful ones, haven’t we, Garry?”
"Yes. Elinor’s specializing in hunt
ing breeds, Anne. Setters, pointers
and beagles.”
“I have Charles’ dog. He’s a beau
ty.” Anne spoke without thinking,
home.”
On Christmas eve Garry dined with
them, and Betty Lanvale and her
young husband, and a few others.
Francis had insisted on it “You’ve
been shut up too long, Anne.”
Garry brought Anne a pair 'of sil
ver buckles*set with aquamarines and
brilliants.
Anne was very happy, for another
present had come to her that morn
ing—a tiny ivory box, old and yellow
and equisitely carved. There had been
no name, but the postmark was that
of a remote settlement on the Nile,
so Anne had known. And the know
ledge had made her world glow and
sparkle as if life were set with -dia
monds. Shfe had. told no one about
the box. Not even Vicky.
It was in mid-January that Anne
went’ south with her father. She
0
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wrote back to Vicky:
“Oranges and flame vines; bright
gold everywhere, and the wayeS of
pale purple. Every body is taking
sun baths. Daddy and I have an ad
orable cpttage, with palms about us
like the pillars of a temple, We* know
a lot, of people here. - I spend the
mprnings with Daddy and. the after
noon, while he has his nap, with the
young crowd at the Casino. And at
night after Daddy is asleep I go to
dances, v
‘“Garry is down, and we are very
gay and splendid. Everybody raves
about the aquamarine satin that I
bought to match Garry’s buckle. jMy
complexion is talcing pn a most mar
velous suntan to set off my white
sports dresses, and I am by way of
being a big success,, though I say it
who shouldn’t, I miss my school and
I miss the children, and you mustn’t
think I’m forgetting. Some day I am
coming back to you and to my is
land,”
Vicky, reading the letter, wonder
ed. Would Anne ever come back?
She was young and lovely, and men
were waiting for her—Garry and a
Jot of others.
It was on Friday that Anne’s letter
had- come, and on Saturday morning
Vicky talked to her mother about if.
The two women were in the kitchen,
and Vicky was baking a cake for Sun
day suppej\ •
“It isn’t within the bounds of rea
son, Mother, to expect her to give up
all that for a life of loneliness."
“Why expect anything? Life will
work it al! out for her.”
“But I don’t want her to marry
Garry.” '
“Trust her good sense for that,
my dear.” , •
“Francis is letting them see such a
lot of each other. Yet I'know he
wouldn’t want them to fall in love.”
“Vicky, stop worrying. It’s for the
child to decide.”
“But—she’s like my own. I miss
her, Mother.” Vicky’s voice shook.
“My dear, <1 know. You’ve been
brave, Vicky.”
'"I couldn’t do differently.”
“Some women might have taken
what was offered them.”
“I couldn’t. And Francis knew it.
I’m not sure 1 ought to go there'in-
the spring.” . » .
“Let the spring take care of itself.”
Vicky laughed., “What a philoso
pher you. are, dearest.” •-
“It isn’t philosophy. It’s faith.”
Vicky went on. with her baking.
There was- something, she.told her
self, about work with your hands that
was comforting. She wondered why
doctors didn’t put discontented wo
men to making their own cakes.
There was a tonic for tired nerves in
the routine of culinary art.
By the time the cake was baked
she. felt better. She washed her hands
and went down for the mail. The mail
box was by the big gate and Vicky
walked down .to it with Anne’s silver
cat, Jerry, following her.
The mail man had a lot of letters
and the Baltimore papers. “Nothing
fronf Miss Anne this morning,” he
said.
“I had one yesterday.”
■■“How is she?” ,
“Marvelous.”
“Ever coming this way again?”
"She says she is.”
■ “The children miss her.”
“Everybody misses her.”
He drove on and Vicky sat ddwn
on a rude wooden bench to read her
letter from Francis. A line came to
her every day. She did not often write
to him, but she was glad of his let
ters. There were never love letters,
but they breathed his need of her.
‘‘Anne is a precious child, but she is
not enough.”
Vicky sighed as she folded the let
ter. She knew she was wise, but wis
dom was not easy. She could not have
defined her reasons for not marrying
Francis Ordway, but she had no
doubts as to the rightness of het de
cision.
She returned to the house to find
her mother still in the kitchen. “Sit
down, my dear,” Mrs, Hewitt told
-her, “and read me the news while I
peel apples for the pies.” » ‘
Vicky like to read the news to her
mother. Things <that Congress was,
doing, 4md the 'President, and the
marriages and deaths. ;
Today as Vicky glanced down her
eyes caught a familiar name among
the death notices and she looked at it
again: < . < »
“PATTERSON: At Cdijb, Egypt,
Margot, wife of Charles Patterson.
Margot. Wife bF Charles, Then
Charles Patterson was ft$e!
“Mother/’ Vicky Said breathlessly,
“listen to this!” 'She read the notice,
“Oh, Mother, I wonder if this ni’eans
happiness for Anne.”
(Continued Next Week) (
PHIL OSIFER OF
LAZY MEADOWS
By Harry J. Boyle
“MOTHERS”
Since I was a small boy I’ye done
a lot of wondering about a variety of
subjects, One of the things that has
always interested me is the fact that
all mothers seem to want their child
ren to be punctual and accurate and
doing everything with clock work pre-1
cisipn. They tell you countless time's
about being a success and lay down
the rule of accuracy (as the unfailing
key to becoming important in the
world,
• Then I always think of mothers and
their own lives! That is the good,
old-fashioned mothers who live such
full real lives K Watch them in their
homes and see how the rule applies,
First of all there’s the clock. Un
derneath that clock they stuff every
thing, A little poem that they read
in the paper and enjoy .... a recipe
they fancy . a letter from a far re
lative to be answered at some futbre
date . , receipts from the grocery
store ... a photograph of Co,usin
Lucy taken on her wedding day . . .
and odds and ends of all kinds.
When the clock teeters on its man
tel shelf they,make a raid and clean
some of the stuff out. It’s supposed
to be going into the fire, but the most
of it is moved to the top cupboard
drawer. My’what a collection they
have stored in there ... letters . . .
and Christmas .cards ... a few pen
nies in a nutmeg can . . . string . . and
ribbons from last year’s ■ Christmas
presents . ... birthday cards ... a bro
ken alarm clock-1.,. . a treasure of the
baby’s first shoes . . . a lock of his
first’blond, curly hair all wrapped in
an envelope . . intimate little items
collected through the years . . . not
junk . . . just' memories! -
I think of being accurate. Watch
Mother making’ a cake . , . flour in
the. sug'ar can . . ; mustard in the gin
ger jar . . . spices in the rice sealer
... all mixed up to the outsider and
yet known to mother like a book,
Ask Mother how she makes her
Christmas'cake . . , and perhaps you
know the answer. '
“Well, I couldn’t just write it down
but I can tell you pretty close. About
so much flour and a pinch of salt I .
enough cream to make it right . . and
plenty of walnuts, and a few almonds
. . and. lots of nice fruit . . and a dash ,
of ginger • • and so much cocoa or
chocolate . . and you stir until it’s
about so thick and add a little water
. . and . ?’ ,
And so the story goes. Mother just
makes that cake by reasoning! She
^doesn’t quite know why she puts so
much of that and so many pinches of
this in .*. she ’just knows that it makes
a good cake . . and the family enjoys
Eire Plans Against LR.A. *
Dublin — The Eire Government de
cided to summon the Dail (Parlia
ment) to meet Wednesday to pass on
a request for special powers to deal
with activities of the outlawed Irish
PLepublicati Army.
By BETTY BARCLAY
Bread need not be the necessary
but a bit prosaic “staff of life” -—'
it can be an adventure in food.
Today’s woman does not, like he”
grandmother, devote a day or two-
a week to the art of breadmaking,
but she Is eager and .sufficiently
hospitality-minded to “welcome
choice recipes for quick breads
Which will delight friends and
family. *
For afternoon, tea, for the school
lunch, for Sunday night supper or
refreshments for that evening
bridge game there are a variety of
delicious breads which add im
measurably to the basic "sandwich
diet.” Not only do they ' give
variety — they are nutritious —
and require only the simplest of
spreads. The small amount of
’ time necessary to make this
Orange Honey bread pictured, for
Instance, will be amply repaid by
the satisfaction of those who eat it.
’ Orange Honey Bread <
2 tablespoons shortening
1 cup honey
1 well-beaten egg
1% tablespoons’grated orange’peel
2% cups flour, sifted before meas
uring .
2% teaspoons baking powder;
% teaspoon soda.
% teaspoon salt
•t% cup orange juice
% cup chopped nuts
Cream shortening and honey to
gether well. Add egg and grated
f orange peel, * Sift flour, baking
powder, soda and salt together.
Add the dry ingredients to the
creamed fat and honey mixture,
alternately with the orange juice. .
Add. the nut meats. Pour into anj
oiled 9 by 5-inch loaf pan. Bake ,
at 825° F. for 70 minutes. The.-
nuts may be omitted. (Makes 1
loaf.) <■» ■ i>
When cold, ’ cut in thin slices.
Spread with butter or with cream,
cheese, which has been blended,
with a little orange juice, and
make into sandwiches. Incidentally
these sandwiches are ‘very wel
come additions to the children's ,
lunch-box and a loaf of this bread
is a swell thing to have around over
the week-end if you or the young
folks are expecting company/
Lempn Clover Rolls <
2 cups flour, sifted
- 2 tablespoons, sugar
% teaspoon baking soda
% teaspoon salt ' '
cup shortening
% cup milk
3 tablespoons lemon juloe •
Sift dry ingredients and work In
shortening.. Add milk which has ,
been soured by combining with-
lemon juice. Knead slightly. Form
dough into small, walnut sized
balls. Place 3 balls in each cup ot
a greased muffin tin. Sprinkle with
sugar. Bake in hot oven (450° F.)
20 minutes. These rolls have a very
fine texture almost like a yeast roll.
(Makes 16-20 rolls.)
Quick Orange Jam
2 cups orangd pulp and juice
1 lemon, pulp and juice
1%' cups sugarBoil quickly about 10 minuted
or until syrupy and clear. (Make*
2 glasses.).
it. Baking it by the thermometer on
the oven . . no sir, a’thermometer can
go wrong, but a feel with her hand in
the oven can tell her more than all
the figures in the world-.
Mother likes to think pf her family
being smart and efficient and accur
ate. She’d be. shocked, if you pointed
out her own little ways 6F' doing
things . . . and probably explain that
it was different. ' 1 .
Mother doesn’t realize that it’s her
own way that makes her home so-
happy. She knows just Wheri a pinch
of cheer will make an unhappy boy
perk up. She never realizes that* a
dash of her own good humor takes
the frown from the tired’s mail’s'lace
. , . makes him go back and forget
his. troubles. She couldn’t write down
her recipe for gently stirring the dish
of’family affairs when things get too
thick, and of how she prevents a burn
for someone by her gentle diplomacy.
Mothers were made to scold a little
about being always on the dot with
everything while they go on doing
•their own work in a “homey” slightly
muddled-up way that just naturally
works? right.
DR. R. L. STEWART
PHYSICIAN
Telephone 29.
J. W. BUSHFIELD
Barrister, Solicitor, Notary, Etc.
Money To Loan. #
Office — Meyer Block, Wingham
THOMAS FELLS ,
AUCTIONEER
REAL ESTATE SOLD / ‘
A Thorough Knowledge of Farm
Stock.
Phone 231, Wingham.
Dr. Robt. C. REDMOND
M.R.C.S. (England)
> L.R.C.P1 (London)
PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON
J. H. CRAWFORD
Barrister, Solicitor, Notary, Etc.
Bdnds,' Investments & Mortgages
Wingham <- Ontario
. •■ ■■ -" i t •
Consistent Advertising 0
in
The Advance-Times
Gets Results ’
DR; W. M. CONNELL
PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON
Phone x0.
R. S. HETHERINGTON
BARRISTER and SOLICITOR
Office ■— Morton Block.
Telephone No, 66. ,
J. ALVIN FOX
^ Licensed Drugless Practitioner
CHIROPRACTIC - DRUGLESS.
THERAPY - RADIONIC
EQUIPMENT
Houts by Appointment.
Phone iqi. Wingham
W. A. CRAWFORD, M.D.
Physician and Surgeon
Donated at the Dffice of the late
Dr. J. P. Kennedy.
iPhone 150 ' Wingtani
Frederick A< Parker
OSTEOPATH
Offices: Centre St., Wingham, and
Main SiuLiatoweL ■
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