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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 , Repletewithnewmechanical fea-1 and the Special DeLuxe. IlltiSMted gatoMiivr type hood providing lures and refinements,the 1940 Chev- here is the Town Sedan of the Spe- ^sier complete f^ess to toe rolet is introduced to the Canadian dal DeLuxe Series In the lower Sw*etdh?^neratod^fJonSat ad- puhlie in two Series—the Master 85 Rel are shown the new alH- M 1 . ........ • .. . ’/ * 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 ■ Uatowel Daya: Tuesday* and IM* dayli Outeopithic and Etetttfe TW niehti. Poot tetdintqde. Phone it 2 ................ Wingham A. Rd&F.E. DUVAL CttlfeOPPAUTORS CHIROPRACTIC Ohd ELECTRO THERAPY ■ North Street ‘ Winghnn ’ Telephone 300.