Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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McCORMICK MESSENGER, McCORMICK, SOUTH CAROLINA PAGE NUMRER THREE Thursday, April 28, 1932 L RUBY AA. AYRES SEVENTH INSTALMENT i* At twenty-two the only thing ana really desired was another tman’s husband. A nervous wreck >m the excitement and strain of ndon’s gay life, she is taken by r aunt, Mrs. Gladwyn, to a fam- s specialist’s office. The phy- *ian orders her to the country to re a long rest. She rebels, but e doctor is handsome and sym- thetic. She learns that he is not ; great man himself but an as lant, Dr. Rathbone. “God made ; country and man made the vn,” he tells her, and she agrees go to a rural retreat, lefore she leaves she goes to nnis Waterman’s flat, where iy are surprised by Linda, Den ’s wife, who takes the situation ite calmly. “I suppose she wants i to marry her?” she asks Den- • it the night club where she goes h Dennis, Diana collapses. She ains consciousness in a little mtry cottage, with a nurse, Miss rling, bending over her. Dr. thbone’s home was close by, Miss rling told her. .iter tnree weeks Dennis Water- n calls. He tells her he will r e to go away, and his manner, he leaves her, suggests that his i is waning. But Dennis has x been gone many days before na finds herself asking Miss rling all sorts of questions about Rathbone. dt long afterwards she learns t there is a woman living in Dr. hbone’s house, a woman named alie. >W GO ON WITH THE STORY ifou asked me to come,” he said. u said it was something urgent.” fes . . . yes, it is.” But for the of her she could think of noth- to say, no excuse wherewith to ify her hurried letter, e glanced towards the window if impatient to be gone, even le he drew out a chair for her. Vhen are you going away?” Sarly tomorrow morning.” > pr eyes grew unconsciously pa le. ’or long?” shall not be away for ‘very ;. I am going -to Paris. It’s not Uiday, if you think that.” There a note of wonderment in his e as if he was asking himself : it was necessary to make this anation at all. “It’s an urgent —one of my patients who is • there has been taken serious- IL” . “Yes.” Her heart was beating fast, but she kept her eyes on his face. “I expect you’ll laugh at me, or perhaps you’ll be angry, but though I don’t know why it is, I think I somehow love you. i\ot the sort of love I . . . like I love Dennis . . . you’re so much older than I am, and than he is too, but you make me feel so—safe! You make me feel that no matter what went wrong, if the door opened and you came in, everything would be all right.” She put her hand over her eyes for a moment as if trying to make sure of her own thoughts. “Yes,” she said after a moment, “that’s how I feel about you. I love you because you’re so safe. You’re like a strong harbour to which—any thing weak—like me—can go and be safe.” Sne smiled at him with a very sweet smile. “That’s a very . . . dangerous thing to say to me, Diana.” “Dangerous?” "Hasn’t it ever occurred to you that I am only just a very ordinary man?” "No, because you’re not; not like the men I’ve met, anyway.” "In spite of . . . the thing you were so anxious to find out about me?” “You won’t forgive me for that? I never really believed it, even though—” “And if it’s true?” She came a step nearer to him. “Is it true?” He moved back a little way from her and laughed. “Your faith is not so very strong after all, you see. Well, I must go.” of the past coming back to claim her, when for a little while she had thought to have escaped from it. A v wood pigeon flew suddenly overhead with a great flutter of wings, as if something had startled it, and looking up, Diana saw a girl standing on the narrow path before her. She was standing very still, al most as if she were a figure in a picture and not a real person at all, and standing beside her was a big dog, a rough-haired Alsatian with a red collar round his shaggy neck. They were both looking at Diana, and she looked back at them with an odd sense of unreality, as if this was something she was seeing in a dream, till the girl moved and spoke. “What were you thinking about?” she asked. “Thinking about?” Diana felt a little bewildered. “I don’t know; just—things.” The two girls looked at one an other, and it was Diana who spoke next. “I know who you are,” she said. ‘Your name is Rosalie.” Then she flushed and wished she had not spoxen. But the other girl only smiled. “Yes, my name is Rosalie,” she said. There was a little silence, then she asked, “Do you mind if I sit down?” Diana moved a little to make room tor her. “Are you iond of music?” Rosalie asked suddenly. “Yes—yes, I think I am,” Diana said, feeling, rather bewildered. i broke off, and Diana said in leer ^roice: ’hen you’re g6ing alone?” done? . . . Why, certainly I am g alone.” He stopped, then :d slowly, “What do you mean? r do you ask such a question?” Tothing . . . only . . .” 3 asked rather abruptly: IThat was the very urgent thing wish to see me about?” ~ ana flushed a little, but the i quickly died away, leaving her r chan before. ’ve told you.” Tou’ve told me?” Tes . . . that I didn’t want you o away.” Tou brought me ten miles to me that?” Tes—at least, it’s only five, isn’t Then, if you count going I suppose .... Oh, are you ry?” ire you ever going to learn self- rnce?” he asked whimsically, .elf-reliance?” mean,” he explained, “that it ,n’t do to lean too hard on oth- eople; there’s such a danger of g Jet down.” iana shook her head, a little ering smile on her lips, fou’d never let anybody down,” said confidently. , fou say that,” he answered, i yet you took the trouble to e five miles through a scorch- sun to find out for yourself ething about me which you d not find out from other peo- 9 Te stared at him, fascinated. ; . . . how do you know?” she spered. Because all women are the ie,” he answered ruhtlessly. u tell a man you believe in him, directly his back is turned—” broke off, pulling his shoulders fther as if in anger at his un ited display of emotion. .Veil, I must be off,” he said e again. iana barred his way to the door. Ct wasn’t that I—didn’t believe f ou,” she said rather breathless- Tt was just—oh, I can't explain, I think perhaps it was a queer ; of jealousljT* Tediously?” ’“Though I don’t know why it is, I think I somehow love you.’ So he would not tell her; she knew that he would never tell her. She put out her hand, and after the barest hesitation he took it. And then he was gone. CHAPTER XI Rathbone was away four days. It seemed a long four days, and then, on the fifth morning a letter came from Dennis Waterman. She took Dennis’s letter with her out into the woods. It was with a little sigh of re luctance that at last she opened it. “My darling: “You have not written to me, though every mail I look for a let ter. I am always thinking of you and wondering how and where you are. New York is like a fiery furnace; the pavements seem to burn your feet. These lawyer fel lows are keeping us hanging about, and Linda will not leave until ev erything is settled up, though 1 rather fancy I shall come home be fore she does, perhaps soon. Wasn’t it some poet fellow who said that absence makes the heart grow fonder? Well, that’s how I feel about you. There are times when the longing to see you again is al most unbearable.” Diana closed her eyes and tried to visualize how Dennis must have .ookecl when he wrote those words. She knew every line of his face so well, and yet somehow she could not recapture them. She went on reading: “Life is a queer thing, isn’t it? It seems absurd that you and I are forced to be separated like this, when if we were together we should find perfect happiness. Do you still love me? But I know you do, and when I come home—” Diana stopped reading, and hur riedly folded the letter. Somehow she felt she could not bear anymore; it was the voice “Do you sing?” “No.” “I do. Listen.” And suddenly she began to sing, quite naturally and as if it were nothing out of the ordinary suddenly to start singing to a perfect stranger. She had a charming voice, rath er small, but wonderfully true and clear, and she sang a little song which Diana had never heard be fore. “ ‘ How we met, what need to cay? When or where, Years ago or yesterday, Here or where? All the song is—once we met, She and t: Once, but never to forget Till we die All the song is that we meet Never now. “Hast thou yet forgotten, sweet?” “Love, hast thou?’ ” The sweet voice stopped, and Diana was surprised to feel tears on her cheeks. “That is very pretty,” she said, hastily brushing them away. “Yes, isn’t it? Donald likes it :oo.” There was a little silenct. “When is he coming back?” Diana asked. “I don’t know; he never tells me. He iust comes.” “I nee.” The dog suddenly pricked up his ears and slowly started to wag his feathery tail as a man in chauf feur’s uniform came along the winding oath. “It’s time to go home, Miss Rosa lie.” “Very well.” She rose obediently, smiled at Diana, and was gone. During the next few days Diana saw Rosalie twice. Once she met her, being driven up the village street in Rathbone’s limousine, looking out of the window with rather weary eyes, with the big shaggy dog sitting beside her. Mov ed by a sudden impulse, Diana wav ed a hand to her, but she received no recognition in reply. Rosalie’s mournful eyes met hers without in terest, as if they had never seen her before. One morning she had a bright :dea. “I’m going to send to London for my car,” she informed Miss Star ing. The Creature looked up. “To drive yourself?” she asked. “To drive myself,” Diana mocked her. “Why not? I’ve driven my self for years. I’m a good driver. Would you be afraid to trust your self to me?” “I should enjoy it very much in deed, but we must ask Dr. Rath bone first if it will be wise.” Diana frowned. “I'm tired of being dictated to by him; besides—well, he hasn’t been near me for ages.” She wrote to London that morn ing and then went off to the farm to see Mr. Shurey and ask about garage accommodation. CHAPTER XII That evening Dr. Rathbone called. He told her how well she looked. “Do you realize,” he asked her, “that you will soon be back in your beloved London?” She looked at him quickly. “Why do you call it that?” “Well, isn’t it?” “It used to be.” “And will be again. You’ll see. Once you have said gbod-bye to the country—” He stopped, and she asked: “What then? I suppose you think I shall forget all about the weeks I’ve been here and never want to come back again?” (CONTINUED NEXT WEEK) XXI Garnishes Reflect Season Of The Year “The seasons of the year can be represented by garnishes,” says Inez S. Willson, home economist. And in addition, variety can be added td the meat dish by the sel ection of a different garnish. How ever, there are a few points to keep in mind when choosing those garn ishes—always select ones which are edible, complimentary in flavor and texture to the meat, and suf ficiently different in color to be pleasing in appearance. Here are some garnishes for meats which suggest the color of spring. 1. Lamb—Mint leaves; mint jel ly; circles of baked oranges in wat er-cress; slices of pineapple; pars ley. 2. Beef—Wreath of watercress; celery curls on lettuce; small pick les sliced lengthwise; green pep pers or pimentos, cut in ribbons; green peas. 3. Pork—Apple rings; small, round, bright red radishes; celery stalks cut in 2-inch pieces, then fringed and placed in ice water to open; cucumber baskets; fried banana slices with parsley; lettuce leaves rolled tightly and cut into ribbons; tomato sauce. XXX ning clothes for well-dressed men x Only the male katydid can pro duce music. Flower Gardens In Honor Of Gen. George Washington The sudden stimulating of inter est in planting gardens in honor of George Washington in this year of 3icent:nnial celebration, brings to mind certain facts in the' history of floral culture in this country. According to the United States George Washington Bicentennial Commission, history shows that wherever men came to set foot on the shores of the new world, it is notable that fragrance met them; and over all the beauties and wan ders to which the earliest writers bear witness, each in his own way, they encountered sweet odors, per fume of flowers and fragrant gums h,nd spices. Gardens of the red men were already old, when the white men came. Indians raised fruits, melons, walnuts, cucumbers, gourds, peas and divers roots and fruits. It is obvious chat until both wilderness and savage had been subdued, little thought could be given to the cultivation of any plant that had no definite economic value. Here and there a single flower, undoubtedly brought across the sea, was nurtured for its senti mental value, not for any lack of oatural flowers. The precious seeds of well loved favorites were committed to the strange soil, and our own gardens proudly show many handsome blooms which are the direct des cendants of these early ancestors which bravely reared heads in new surrondings under strange skies. Among those were: gilliflowers, carnations, sweet Williams, sweet Johns, Hollyhocks. The Dutch Colonists were mast ers of gardening. When Hudson’s Dutch sailors and the Cavaliers first landed the first thing they brought off to their ship was as much of the delicious spicy boughs as their boat would hold. The gardens in the various parts of the colonies as time went on, assumed individual characteristics. The Spanish Gardens in the south; the New Amsterdam Gardens; the austere Puritan Gardens, expressed unconsciously the characteristics of the Colonies in which they grew. A list of the old time flowers shows many familiar names. This year they will bloom again * from one end of the country to the other, in back yards, in small garden plots, in school gardens. Among these are the following: Achillea Ptarmica; double white pellitory, yarrow; white. Aconitum Lycoctonum; wolf’s bane; yellow. Aconitum Napellus; blue aconite; blue. Allium Moly; “great Moly of Homes;” yellow. Allium Neapol- itanum; white allium; needs win ter protection. Beilis Perennis; double daisy; pink or pinkish. Calceolaria Alba; Mary’s slipper, lady’s slipper; white. Calceolaria piannata; smaller yel low lady’s slipper. Calendula officinalis; double garden mari gold (kitchen or pot marigold); yellow. Caltha palustris; water boot, double marsh marigold; yel low. Campanula Medium; Canter bury bells, Marian’s violet; blue, white. Datura Stramonitar thorn apple or Jamestown weed; planted as a curiosity where not native, “in orchard as it takes up much room.” Datura fastuosa; violet, whittish within; double forms called “hose- in-hose.” Delphinium ajacis; larkspur; “blue, ash, rose, pale blush white.” Echinops exaltatus; great glove thistle; pale blue. Echinops spha- erocephalus; lesser globe thistle. Eranthis hyemalis; winter aconite; bright yellow. Fritillaria aurea; checkered lily; yellow, small dis tinct checkers. Fritillaria -atifolia; green and dark purple checkers. Fritillaria lutea; greenish yellow, dull purple checkers. Galanthus nivalis; snowdrop; white “sealed with heart-shaped green.” Genista tinctoria; dyer’s greenweed: yellow. Gentiana ac- aulis; gentian of spring or gentia- nella; blue. Gentiana lutea; great yellow gentian; yellow; (“a :.nedi- cinable olant.”) Geranium prat- ense; meadow cranesbill; blue, large, geranium Ibericum; violet. Hedysarum coronarium; “red satten” flower, or French Honey suckle; red. Hedysarum coronar ium, album; white—this not com mon. Helichrysum arenarium; goldy-locks or immortelles; yellow, everlasting. Iberis amara; candy tuft; white. Iberis umbellata; purplish. Iris Chamaeiris; dwarf flower-de-luce; bright yellow. Iris Chamaeiris, Italica; dark purple. Irris Florentina; “orris” root iris; white, shadowed with lavender: Iris CHILDREN CRY FOR IT— ^"^HILDREN hate to take medicine ^■''as a rule, but every child loves the taste of Castoria. This pure vegetable preparation is just as good as it tastes; just as bland and just as harmless as the recipe reads. When Baby’s cry warns of colic, a few drops of Castoria have him soothed, asleep again in a jiffy. Nothing is more valuable in diarrhea. When coated tongue or bad breath tell of constipation, invoke its gentle aid to cleanse and regulate a child’s bowels. In colds or children’s diseases, you should use it to keep the system from clogging. Castoria is sold in every drug store; the genuine always bears Chas. IL Fletcher’s signature. A STARLING’S SPRING RONDEL By James Cousins I clink my castanet And beat my little drum; • For spring at last has come. And on my parapet Of chestnut, gummy-wet. Where bees begin to hum, I clink my castanet. And beat my little drum. “Spring goes,” you say, “suns set.” So be it! Why be glum? Enough, the spring has come; And without fear or fret I clink my castanet, And beat my little drum. X HUMORETTES Wife—Robert. Hypnotist—Yes, dear. Wife—I wish you would come here and tell baby he’s asleep. Mrs. Huff—Did you see the John son twins?' Huff—Yeah. Mrs. Huff—Don’t you think the boy is the picture of his father? Huff—I sure do—and the girl is the talkie of her mother. Peggy—I’m divorcing Charlie. You don’t know what I’ve gone through, living with him. Anne—Well, everybody says it was all he had. ™ii 1 " ' "B Persica; “bulbous” iris; lilac and orange blotched with purple; take bulbs up in summer. Lathy rus latifolius; everlasting pea; rose red. Lathy rus latifolius, splendens: dark purple and red. Leucojum aestivum; summer snow flake; whit 3 tipped with green. Matthiola incana; stock gilliflower; white, rose, crimson, purple, and mixed; double. Mimosa pudica; sensitive plant or “sensible” plant; grown for curious sensitive foliage. Narcissus Jonquilla; jonquil; yel low. Narcissus peoticus; Narcis sus; single and double; white. Paeonia officinalis; peony; blush, carnation, red, purple, red striped with white all double. Papyer Phoeas; corn poppy; blush white, red, scarlet, purple, half and half white and scarlet. Ranunculus aconitifulius; crowfeet; white, Ranunculus aconitifolius; flora- pleno; fair maids of France, fair maids of Kent, white bachelor’s button; double white. Scabiosa atropurpurea; sweet scabious; white, red, “red Indian.” Scilla amoena; star hyacinth; blue. Tagetes erecta; African marigold; lemon-yellow to deep orange. Tagetas patula; French Marigold; yellow marked with red to almost a pure red. Valeriana officinalis; valerian; whitish, pink, and lavender, Verbascum blattaria; “mullein, moth mullein;” white.