The Barnwell people-sentinel. (Barnwell, S.C.) 1925-current, August 26, 1937, Image 2
Tk« Barawtll Ptepl»8«iti—U BanwtlL 8. C. Thiredty. August 26. 19S7
WITH BANNERS
SYNOPSIS
Brook* Rayburn visit* tho oflics of Jod
Stow art. a lawyer, to dlscuas tho tomna of
an estate ah* has Inherited from Mrs. Mary
Armanda Dane. Unwittlnfly she overhears
Jed talk In* to Mark Trent, nephew of Mrs.
Dan* who has been disinherited Mrs. Dane
had lived at Lookout House, a hut* struc
ture by the sea, built by her father and
divided Intb two, for her and Mark’s father.
Brooke had been a fashion expert, and Mrs.
Dan*, a ‘'shut-in," hearing her on the
radio, had Invited her to call and developed
a deep affection for her. Mark discloses
that Mrs. Dane had threatened to disinherit
him If he married Lola, from whom he Is
now divorced. He says he does not trust
Henri and Clotilda Jacques, Mrs. Dane's
servants. He says he Is not Interested In an
offer of Brooke's to share the estate with
him. Leaving her department store Job,
Brooke refuses an offer to “go stepping"
with Jerry Field, a carefree young man
who wants to marry her. At a family con
ference she learns she must live at Lookout
House alone, since Lucette, her younger
sister who is taking her Job, her brother,
Sam, a young playwright, and her mother
plan to Stay in the city. Jed and Mark are
astounded when they hear from Mrs. Greg
ory, a family friend, that she had wit
nessed a hitherto unknown will with Henri
and Clotilde two weeks before Mrs. Dane
died. Brooke had arrived Just as she was
leaving. Jed suggests that Mark open his
part of Lookout House, get friendly with
Brooke and try to find out about the will.
Jed agrees to stay with him. Mark accepts
Brooke's Invitation for a family Thanks
giving dinner at Lookout. Mrs. Reyburn
announces on Thanksgiving eve that she
has been Invited to England. Sam and
Lucette decide to move in with Brooke and
Sam plans to produce a new play locally.
After the Thanksgiving dinner Brook* tells
^fark that little of Mrs. Dane’s silver col
lection is left. Jerry Field and his sister
Daphne drop In and announce they will
be neighbors for the winter. Sam adds them
to the cast of his play. Later Inspector
Harrison of the local police visits Mark
gnd Is informed about the missing will and
silver. As Harrison leaves. Lola arrives.
She announces that she and her new hus
band. Bert Hunt, have started a neighbor
hood filling station. Mark almost makes
• break about the i»g will and Brooke
Is suspicious.
CHAPTER V Continued
"You’re a darling, Brooke. I ap
preciate now the color, and the
sense of ‘God's in His Hesven, all’s
right with the world’ you brought
Into Mary Amanda Dane's life. I
had intended to atari a boycott
against you and your family here
because you had cut Mark out of his
inheritance, but he asked me to be
nice to you. I adore that boy. 1
would do anything for him. He
lived in a nightmare of humiliation
with a wife who came home night
after night barely able to keep her
feet. Why. why can’t women real-
lie that it’s their privilege to keep
up the standards of decency? He
stood by her, though, and held Ms
head high, and erouldn’t allow his
soul to be warped by the txperi-
Brooke left her town car in the
garage when she reached Lookout
House She was thoughtfully draw
ing off her gloves as she approached
the garden door of her house. A
stream of light laid a golden path
on leafless shrubs and graveled
walk. A woman was at the door!
A woman in a foa cape. Mrs Hunt!
Talking with Henri.
Brooke stepped into the purple
shadow of a spruce. She could see
and she could hear:
*'lf you keep a level head we
can t lose. Henri."
The man's murmur was indistinct.
He closed the door softly ss the
woman went down the steps. She
Sung a furtive look et the windows
of the house before she vanished in
the dusk.
‘That seems to be that." Brooke
said to herself, before she started
around Mark Trent's house that she
might enter her own front door un
observed by a possible watcher in
the garden.
As she entered the living-room at
Lookout House, she rang for Henri.
The green parrot squawked.
"Stop!", ruffled hie feathers, end
hopped up and down in his csge.
She was standing near the fire, let
ter opener in hand, looking over
the mail she had found on the desk
when the butler entered.
"Did anyone call, Henri?"
"On the phone, Miss?"
"At the house."
Henri opened the door of the par
rot’s cage. Mr. Micawber hopped
to his shoulder and began tweaking
his ear.
"Never mind about the parrot,
Henri. Answer my question."
"But I take him out like this for a
walk around three times a day,
Miss: the old madame wanted him
to have a change of scene. Not a
person called at this house. Were
you expecting someone?"
"Yes, the lady who is to have
charge of selling tickets for the play
phoned that she might come this
afternoon. Probably she couldn’t
make it. That’s all."
Her eyes followed him as he left
the room with the green bird mut
tering on his shoulder. Always she
had distrusted the man of whom
Mary Amanda Dane had been so
fond. Why should he have lied to
her about Mrs. Hunt’s presence at
the garden door of Lookout House?
Because the woman was there to
see him of course. With her
thoughts still on Henri and his eva
sions, she slit one of the envelopes
In her hand and drew out the letter
It contained. All thought of the but
ler fled as she saw that the letter
head was that of the firm for which
she had been fashion adviser.
Dear Miss Key bum,—she read—
Any chance of your wanting a Job?
We ere opening a dress shop at Palm
Beach under the name ot Carstoo’s lac.
Very swank, very expensive. Celesta
will be business manager. We’d lUa
fas te bo top mannequin—with a aaL
By Emilie Loring
• E ml lie Loring.
WHO Sendee.
ary, of course, and percentage on tho
saloa of tho frocka you model. We'U
put on a fashion show latar in the
season. Society girls as mannequins.
We’ll open this year January first.
Don’t say “No" until you think It over.
Come In and we’U give you more details.
Celeste and tha directors are all for
you on the Job.
Yours truly—
Brooke’s face flushed as she re
read the letter. Of course she
couldn’t accept — some girl who
needed the money should have the
chance—but it was thrilling to know
that she was wanted. Palm Beach.
All sunshine and fragrance and flow
ers. What a contrast to this stern
and rockbound coast with the pound
of surf, the wail of the siren, and the
cries of gulls, to which she was
anchored for the present.
The contents of the letter glowed
in her mind as she dressed for the
evening. It was heart-warming to
know that her hard work had been
appreciated.
Not until later, as, snuggled in a
big chair before the fire in the liv
ing-room, she waited for Lucette
and Sam to change for dinner, did
the memory of Mrs. Hunt's pres
ence at the garden door recur to
her. Now it surged to the top of
her mind. With unseeing eyes on
the green parrot back in his cage,
she thought of the woman’s warning
to her, of her threat to Mark Trent
—it had been a threat, in spite of
that sugary "darling." What had
she meant? What object could Henri
have had in denying her presence?
"■ew Perfectly Great!"*
W*y should the remembrance of the
low voice declaring: "If you keep a
level bead we can't loee. Henri."
send Icy prickles crawling up her
spine and coasting down?
Brook# thoughtfully smoothed the
lace of her dinner frock, lace tha
very shade of tha high lights In her
hair. If this were a movie, there
might ba a trick cupboard la the
green paneling in which the silver
had been hidden, but there was
nothing so exciting here. She had
been at Lookout House when the
walls and trim were painted.
"Calling car 9! Car SI Car 9! N
The frenzied call brought Brooks
to her feet, act her heart thumping
madly. Then she laughed as the
parrot with a squawk preened his
green and yellow feathers. She
made a disdainful fact at tha
chuckling bird
"Mr. Micawber. sometime when
you yell like that I’ll forget that I’m
a perfect lady and wring your neck.
Sam, did you teach the parrot that
police radio call?" she demanded,
as her brother entered the room.
His eyes twinkled behind the
lenses of his horn-rimmed specta
cles. He pulled a piece of cracker
from the pocket of his blue coat.
"Sure, I taught him. I’ve been at
work on that bird ever since I
came. Here, stout fella!"
The parrot twisted his head com
pletely round, blinked lidless eyes,
before he nipped at the reward
which Sam had thrust through the
bars of his square cage.
"That bird’s a peach, Brooke. You
can teach him anything if you try
hard enough. Boy, I wish I had
him in the play. He’d show some
of the stiffs how to speak their
lines."
"Who’s the biggest problem?"
"Daphne Field. She’s pretty
enough but dumb. She’ll stop the
show, all right, but not because
she’s an actress. Hers is a feed-
part for the leading woman. She’s
one of those darnfool girls who go
off their heads in a crisis—in real
life, I mean, not in the play. Glad
she’s not in the lead. Laura Crane,
who is, is good; she’s got plenty on
the ball."
"How is Jerry in his part?"
"Okay, but I don’t like the man
who is playing the male lead. He’s
a spotlight hog. I wish Mark Trent
would take it. He's just the type
and a natural. I think he's great—
and—he’s darn friendly, but—" Sam
leaned against the mantel and faced
his sister. “Have you ever thought
that he is not particularly keen
about the Reyburn family?'*
Brooke said thoughtfully:
"Would he be likely to be keen,
es you express it, about a family
which was spending money that he
felt ehould be his? 1 think he has
behaved decently."
"Who said he hadn’t? I have a
kind of feeling, that’s all. He told
Jed Stewart that we might take
anything we liked from his house fox
stage setting. But all things consid
ered, I’ll be glad when the show is
over; sometimes I think I’ve writ
ten a smash hit and sometimes that
the play is just a lot of tripe. I
daren’t hope for one or two first-
string critics to' give me the low-
down on it. Anyway, a manager
who liked those two sketches 1
wrote for the Workshop is coming
for the opening to give it the once
over, and he’ll bring a New York
producer."
"Really, Sam! How perfectly
grand! We—’’
"Hi! Soft pedal! Here comes Lu
cette. I don’t want her to know
that they’ll be in front, it might rat
tle her."
There was the sound of running
feet on the stairs, a gay voice sing
ing. Lucette dashed into the room.
Her black hair was silky; her thin
frock was only a shade redder than
her lips and cheeks and fingernails.
She dropped to the rug in front of
the fire, hugged her knees, and
looked up at her sister.
"How soon do we eat, Brooke?
I’m starving."
"Henri waits till he hears you
tumble downstairs before he an
nounces dinner. What kind of a day
did you have?"
"Hectic. Every woman in the
city apparently has gone sports-
clothes minded. They’ve stopped
boasting of the extreme age of their
frocks and hats and have begun to
spend real money. They are buy
ing for themselves and for Christ
mas gifts in spite of the fact that
prices are being stepped up. I
should worry. I get a sliver of com
mission on my sales. The girl who
has taken your place had just one
of those days, today. Madam# Ce
lesta was on the warpath. I brought
Jerry Field down in the car. He waa
a gob of gloom when he came in
and you were not here. By the way,
wte do you think runs that new AU-
ing-station in the white cottage?
"Mark Trent’s ex-wifa and bar
husband!**
Brooke stood before the Are In the
softly lighted living-room at Look
out House. Three day* had passed
since she had received the letter
offering her the Palm Beech posi
tion. since she had heard that the
Hunts were the proprietors of the
Alling-etatton she had been patron-
izmg. She had refused promptly
the business offer and had dropped
it from her mind, but she couldn’t
forget the other. Sometimes she
wondered if she would ever think of
anything else. Quest ions were ever
lastingly popping up. Had Lola Hunt
gone to Mark Trent’s house to tell
him about K, or had he known al
ready? Why later had the woman
been talking so confidentially te
Henri al the garden door of Lookout
House? Whet had she meant by:
"If you keep a level heed we can’t
Mae. Henri**? What was behind that
snapped off "wit" of Mark Trent’s?
Why waa aha spending a mo
ment’s thought on Mark Trent’s
problems? Hadn’t she plenty of her
own? She frowned et the empty
gilt cage. Where was Mr. Micaw
ber? When she had come in this
afternoon, Henri had been wringing
hie hands. He had gone completely
French a* he chattered, but she had
gathered from the jargon that when
he had stepped out on the lawn
with the parrot on his shoulder, the
door had banged behind him and
tha frightened bird had flown away.
It wasn’t that she cared for the par
rot, she detested him, but Mrs
Dane had loved him and she felt
as if she had broken faith with her
benefactress.
"Wake up, sister!" Lucette prod
ded from the doorway. "Sam and I
have been staring at you for three
minutes, trying thought transfer
ence. Nothing doing. We couldn’t
penetrate your skull. You’ve been
scowling as if addressing a hall full
of women who refused to rally to
your one-time battle-cry:
"Old age isn’t necessary, it ii
nothing but a germ! Watch out
that you don’t pick it up!"
Brooke laughed. "I had no idea
that the precepts of her elders made
such an impression on our little sis
ter, had you, Sam?"
"No. I—Where is Mr. Micawber?’*
Brooke told him.
"No kidding, what do you know
about that! I’ll bet Henri let him
go”
"He wouldn’t do that, Sa n, though
he should have known better than to
go to the open door with him. Mrs.
Dane wouldn’t have the bird’s wings
clipped; of course he would fly
when he got the chance. Henri
takes all the care of him, thank
heaven. I think he adores him, if
he can adore anything. Curious,
Mr. Micawber likes Henri and you;
he doesn’t try to conceal tha fact
that he dislikes Lucette and me. I’m
really troubled about tha parrot. Ha
may be flying outside, and Mrs.
Dane was so careful never to ex
pose him to draughts. Who is call
ing, I wonder?" Brooke asked, as
the butler passed in the hall on his
way to the front door.
(TO u cormiu>j
IMPROVED
UNIFORM INTERNATIONAL
S UNDAY I
chool Lesson
By REV. HAROLD L. LUNDQUIST.
Dean ot the Moody Bible InsUtut*
of Chicago.
@ Western Newspaper Union.
Lesson for August 29
GOD CONDEMNS
INTEMPERANCE.
LESSON TEXT—Leviticus 10:1, I. 8-11;
Proverbs 31:4, Isaiah 28:1-8; Romans
14:21.
GOLDEN TEXT—Wine is a mocker,
strong drink Is ragtag: and whosoever Is
deceived thereby Is not wise. Prov. 20:1.
PRIMARY TOPIC.—What a Wise Kin*
said.
JUNIOR TOPIC—When a Man Drinks.
INTERMEDIATE AND SENIOR TOPIC—
How Drinking Harms Others.
YOUNG PEOPLE AND ADULT TOPIC—
Why Beverage Alcohol Is a Social Foe.
The use of intoxicating liquors is
financially unprofitable to the na
tion, scientifically unwise and de
structive, socially degrading, and
morally wrong.
I. The Problem.
The selected Old Testament scrip
tures which comprise our • lesson
present the use of intoxicants as
causing four socially undesirable re
sults.
1. Religious disobedience (Lev.
10:1,2; Isa. 28:7). Two things we
may rightfully expect of those who
serve the nation in its religious life:
(1) a vision of God and obedience
to that vision in life and service,
and (2) the exercise of sound God-
guided judgment in the affairs of
the people. But note what happens
when the prophet and the priest turn
to wine and strong drink. "They err
In vision" (Isa. 28:7). That Is, they
have no clear concepts of divine
truth, and lead the people into error.
Further, we see that "they stumble
in judgment." To every true serv
ant of God comes repeatedly the
opportunity and the need of render
ing judgment, that is, of advising
and counselling those to whom he
ministers. If his mind is befuddled
by the use of alcohol (or, for that
matter, of any other kind of worldly
Indulgence) ha will "stumble," and
cause his people to stumble.
A sad Incident la related in Lev.
10:1,2 of the sons of Aaron, appoint
ed to the priesthood and instructed
in its privileges and duties, but
coming with strange fire to be of
fered before the Lord. Swift and
terrible was the judgment they re
ceived. We are not told directly
that they were intoxicated, but it is
implied in the fact that there is an
immediate injunction against the
use of wine by the priests.
Lest someone think that such a
thing could not happen In our day
the writer mention# word which re
cently came to him the! a leading
seminary has proisaaora on Its staff
who defend the so-called moderate
use of alcoholic drink.
1 Political disorder (Free. If).
While political leaders make sancti
monious protests Hone that govern
ment agencies sre not influenced by
the liquor interests, II is common
knowledge to even those who ere
slightly informed that the two are
closely associated. The result of
that unholy alliance is rightly de
scribed In Prov. 11:9—’They for
get the law. and pervert the judg
ment of any of the afflicted." Much
of the and disorder in the body poli
tic is traceable directly to the door
of the makers and sellers of alco
holic beverages.
I. National decay (las. It 14).
"Overcome with wine"—stricken
down, useless in life, without true
ambition, such Is the picture et the
man who gives himself to drink.
Poverty, with all Its attendant so
cial problems, follows on the heels
of the sale and use of in toxicants.
Some liquor dealers are beginning
to sense a rising tide of opposition
to their business, and are advertis
ing, "Ws do not want bread mon
ey," but the fact is that it is sll
too often bread money that goes for
liquor, and the vile stuff is still on
sale where the poor man may read
ily spend his "bread money" for it.
4. Personal degradation (Isa. 28:
8). "Vomit and filthiness" ate not
very nice words, but they describe
accurately the ultimate condition of
the drinker and his surroundings.
The writer knows a young man who
boasts that he never gets drunk
because the "booze" makes him so
sick that he vomits it up. Imagine
a supposedly intelligent man drink
ing stuff so vile that his stomach
(evidently having more sense than
his head) sends it back—and then
boasting of his ability to drink
more!
II. The Solution, a Divine Princi
ple (Rom. 14:21).
Thousands of Christian people
havq solved not only the drink prob
lem, but practically every question
of conduct and social life by apply
ing this principle. Surely no true
follower of Christ will be guilty of
doing anything that will cause any
brother to be blended, to stumble,
or to be made weak.
Foundations
The foundation of domestic hap
piness is faith in the virtue of wom
an; the foundation of political hap
piness is confidence in the integrity
of man; the foundation of happi
ness, temporal and eternal, is reli
ance on the goodness of God.—Lan-
dor.
Reading Good Books
Book love is your pass to tho
greatest and purest and the most
perfect pleasures that God has pro-
pared for His
S EW-YOUR-OWN wouldn’t be
your weather prophet for the
world, but you know, Milady, and
so does S-Y-O, that it’s always fair
weather when good fashions get to
gether. Which brings us to today’s
three sparkling new frocks—a
whole crowd of style for the pretty
part of any man’s family.
A Fun Frock.
Rain, nor gloom, nor a flat tire
(either kind), can dampen the spir
its of the girl wjio wears this buoy
ant, young sports frock (above
left) on her daily rounds—be they
on the fairway, the campus, behind
the counter, or merely from pillar
to post. You can easily see why it’s
a winner: • a button-all-the-way
front, the matched collar and gen
eral shipshape styling make it just
that. It’s surefire in acetate, or silk
crepe.
Here’s to Mothers.
Sew-Your-Own loves nothing
more than catering to mother’s
wardrobe needs. The frock above
(center) is for all mothers: old
sweet ones, young darling ones,
yes, even for mother*-to-be. It is
easy to run up. easy to do up. and
best of all, easy to look at. Smart
simple lines make it a favorite of
women who demand more than a
passable appearance when they’re
"just at home."
Little Brew* Ctrl.
An all-over suntan is her forte,
and many tunny days are ahead
for young Mias Fortunate whoso
mommy choooes to interpret the
fetching model at the right. A
scallop-edged waist front accentu
ated by frou-frou trim is right
down her a\enue. and a gored
skirt, that's second to nono for
class, fits into her scheme of things
to a T. Mother, why not mako on#
dressy version, as pictured, anoth
er finished differently for school?
(Perhaps trith a simple braid
trim) Rayon prints, gingham, or
sheer wool, will do nicety as the
material.
The Patterns.
Pattern 1249 is designed for sizes
14 to 29 ( 32 to 42 bust). Size 18 re
quires 4H yards of 39 inch ma
terial.
Pattern 1207 is designed for sizes
Perfect Sincerity
Fear is not in the habit of
speaking truth; when perfect sin
cerity is expected, perfect free
dom must be allowed; nor has
anyone who is apt to be angry
when he hears the truth, any
cause to wonder that he does not
hear it.—Tacitus.
34 to 50. Size 36 requires 4% yards
of 35 inch material. With long
sleeves 4% yards of 39 inch ma
terial.
Pattern 1366 is designed for sizes
6 to 14 years. Size 8 requires 2%
yards of 39-inch material plus 1%
yards of machine pleating.
Send your order to The Sewing
Circle Pattern Dept., Room 1020,
211 W. Wacker Dr., Chicago, 111.
Price of patterns, 15 cents (in
coins) each.
£ Bell Syndicate.—WNU Service.
CHILLS AND
FEVER
Fast Rslimf for Malaria With
This Proven Treatment!
Don't go through the usual suffer
ing. Stop Malaria chills and fever
in quick time.
Take good old Grove’s Tasteless
Chill Tonic! This is no new fangUd
or untried preparation. It's a fa
mous medicine you can depend on.
Grove's Tasteless Chill Tonic con
tain* tasteless qutaidino and Iren.
It quickly stops the chills and fever.
It also lends to build you up That’s
the double effect you wfnL
The very nest time you fool aa
attack of chills sod fever coming
on. go right to your drug store and
get a bottle of Grovo's Tastelesa
Chill Tonic. Stan taking the medi
cine immediately and you wtO soon
get the rebel you want
All drug store* sell Grove's Taste
less Chill Tonic. Me and |1. The
latter aias is the more economical
The child should be led to tho
right path, not by seventy, but by
persuasion —Menander.
A J pom mvm*s 4MM
Moroline©
saoe BMTt PfTBOUUM JCUV Wiifr
Aik For
BLUE STEEL
OVERALLS
“Blf and Strong”
CHE
LIFE'S LIKE THAT
By Fred Neher