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THE SITN. NEWBERRY, S. C- FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 8, 1939 Shelf Edging Dresses Up Kitchen Windows By RUTH WYETH SPEARS OME of us can remember see ing our mothers cut scalloped shelf papers. Dextrously they folded and snipped the edge in points or curves; sometimes add ing a cut out diamond in the cen ter of each scallop. For many there is more satisfaction in this creation of their own hands, than in using fancy lace edge paper by the roll. Today, we find that hemmed*^ ENOS AND BRASS BINSS same satisfaction when we choose oilcloth shelf edgings—thinking in terms of color has a fascination even beyond scallops with dia monds in the center. The suggestion sketched here for using shelf edging to dress up kitchen windows was sent in by i reader. The busy homemaker will appreciate the fact that the curtains are perfectly straight and plain and easy to remove for laun dering. When windows and shelves match the effect is es pecially good. Banded towels may be of the same color, and tin containers for bread, sugar, and spices may be painted with bright enamel, to match. The new Sewing Book No. 3 by Mrs. Spears is packed full of use ful, money saving ideas, that al most any homemaker may put to practical use. Every idea is clearly illustrated with large sketches. You will be fascinated with the variety of interesting things to make for the home and for gifts. The price is only 10 cents postpaid. Send coin with name and address to Mrs. Spears, 210 S. Desplaines St., Chicago, 111. To quickly check exces sive nasal secretion— put just "2 drops" In each nostril. Ask for PENETROm&s Sad Sight A fool attempting to be witty is an object of profoundest pity. be miserable with MALARIA and COLDS when will check MALARIA last and gives symptomatic cold relief. LIQUID, TABLETS. SALVE. NOSE DROPS 666 Self-Confident Doubt whom you will, but never doubt yourself.—Bovee. zZ&lessedRelLel RHEUMATISMS^ Brave and Tender The bravest are the tenderest.— Bayard Taylor. DoYou Know Why Folks WHioWe Been to Florida Sing — j HEAVEN CAN WATT, THIS IS PARADISE Read“SoThis Is Florida,”a300- page book (including 63 full- page illustrations) bursting with information about Florida’s overflowing charms. Read it to understand why sportsmen re gard Florida as the Happy Hunting Ground come to life.., why fishermen flock to its abun dantly stocked waters.. .why its rich soil is so prodigal in the favorsit bestows...why Florida’s myriad enchantments have made it an oasis of joyous, glorious living. Write today for a copy of "SO THIS IS FLORIDA" By Frank Parker Stockbridga and John Holliday Parry I Stud only $1 to Bex 600, Jacksonville, Florida | s ■ a — a a _ a a a — a I Nnma I | Street Addrew or RJF -D- I Town. State. CHILD OF EVIL O OCTAVUS ROY COHK1V WNU SERVICE OCTAVUS ROY C01 SYNOPSIS Beautiful, young Kay Forrest haa been employed by Christine Maynard, photographer, to pose for a series of pictures, the background of which will be exquisite Cathedral Gardens, famous Southern resort. Unknown to them, one Jett Butler, mean, unscrupulous “swamp angel." has led a friend to spy on the two women. Kay. of necessity, is scantily clad while posing for the camera studies. Kay frequently stays with Mrs. Ruth Hamilton, her son Bar ney. of whom Kay is very fond, and her daughter Margaret. Mrs. Hamilton, a remarkable woman, conceived the Idea of the Gardens following the death of her husband. One night, after a local dance. Kirk Reynolds, a ne'er-do-well gambler of Beverly, a resort town, and Kay go for a ride. Kirk’s car collides with that of Harvey Jackson, and during the ensuing argument Kirk whips out a gun and kills the young, popu.ar engineer. Kay is completely stunned by the tragedy. Kirk threatens to drag her Into the thing if she tells even her father. Terror-stricken, she agrees to remain silent. However, the next time she goes out with Barney, he realizes something Is wrong. She triee to reassure him, but tells him nothing. Mrs. Emma Forrest. Kay’s mother, looks upon herself as be ing completely righteous. She is firm, positive and demanding. Her father la exactly the opposite, kindly and unassuming. CHAPTER IV—Continued Mrs. Forrest found it necessary to make her point more impressive ly. “Andy hasn’t gone to work yet.” Kay glanced without particular enthusiasm at the sturdy figure of her brother. He was clad in the habiliments of a garage mechanic. But she merely said, “I see he hasn’t.” “Sit down, my dear. We wish to talk to you.” Emma’s requests were always unmistakably commands. Kay seated herself, but not com fortably. She was grateful for the presence of her father . . . how ever unable he was to render as sistance in this domestic crisis. “Do you realize,” inquired Mrs. Forrest, “that this is supposed to be your home?” “Yes, ma’am.” “Then why don’t you stay here in stead of gallivanting all over the country all the time?” “I wasn’t gallivanting, Mother. I’ve been staying with the Hamil- tons.” “And driving out every night With that worthless Barney Hamilton.” She said, “Barney’s all right.” “He doesn’t work,” interjected Andy virtuously. "Just plays around. I’ve got no use for these “You keep out of this, Andrew Forrest.” fellows that think they’re so ele gant.” Mrs. Forrest was not to be di verted. “Beverly is talking about you, Katherine.” "That’s nothing new.” “And it’s not new that you’re not ashamed of it.” “Why should I be? I’ve never done anything wrong.” “You went to one of those terrible orgies at the hotel, didn’t you?” Kay was battling for self-control. “I don't see anything wrong with that. Mother. They’re just dances *» “Riff-raffI Tourists! No decent girl would be seen there.” “Now, Mother . . .” It was An drew speaking. Mrs. Forrest flashed her husband a hostile glance. She said, “You keep out of this, Andrew Forrest. I’m Katherine’s mother, and God knows I get no help from you in trying to raise her as a lady.” “I was only going to say . . .” Kay shrugged wearily. “Keep out of it. Dad.” “You see!” Mrs. Forrest’s voice crescendoed triumphantly. “There’s your own daughter giving you or ders. Telling you not to interfere in her upbringing ... as though you would, anyway.” Kay leaned forward. She said, “Suppose you stick to me. Mother.” “Such impertinence! Andrew, are you going to let your daughter speak to her own mother in that fashion? I declare I don’t know what I’ve ever done that God should have giv en me such a child.” She was whip ping herself into a fury of virtuous anger. "And you listen to me, Miss —I’m not going to stand it any long er. It’s time I set my foot down. From now on, you’re going to do as I say.” Andy spoke again. "You stay away from Kirk Reynolds, Sis.” Kay was startled. "And if I don’t?" “Then I’ll have to take matters in my own hands.” She smiled slightly. “Better not, Andy. I don’t think you could scare Kirk very easily.” Mrs. Forrest had risen. She was a purposeful and dominant lady, overflowing with righteous indigna tion. “Will you promise me never to talk to Kirk Reynolds again?” Kay met her mother’s eyes squarely. “No, ma’am.” “Why not?” “Because I don’t make promises that I can’t keep.” “Can’t! Can’t! You hear that, Andrew?” “Now, Mother—aren’t you a trifle hard on Kay?” “No! Certainly not! I’m only do ing my duty as a mother ...” From outside came the insistent honking of an automobile-horn. Four pairs of eyes quested through the window toward the curb. Mrs. For rest said, “Of all the nerve!” and Andy gasped, “It’s Kirk Reynolds.” Kay rose. Her face was white. She walked from the room and onto the porch. Her voice came back to them—clearly. She called, “I’ll be with you in a minute, Kirk.” She walked up to her room; not hearing—or not noticing—her moth er’s statement that she positively was not going riding with that ruf fian. She did hear, faintly, her moth er’s protests that this was more than any good woman should be called upon to stand. She heard her moth er stating to husband and son that the neighbors would talk, that this was an unbearable disgrace—her own daughter riding around in bright, broad daylight with a pro fessional gambler. She called upon Andrew Forrest to do something about it, and Mr. Forrest—glad enough to escape—plodded up the stairs after Kay. Andrew Forrest was a meek per son, albeit a gentle and kindly one. By profession he was a lawyer: a keen student who was consulted on intricate matters by his less- learned contemporaries. His prac tice was arduous and not very re munerative. He was short and slight and on the verge of baldness. His eyes were gentle and not too strong. He was a student and a philosopher; a man of scrupulous integrity—both of thought and deed. He came now into his daughter’s room and touched her shoulder af fectionately. He said, “Must you. Kay?” She nodded. “Yes, Dad.” “I’m sorry. Your mother isn’t entirely wrong, you know. Kirk is bad medicine." “Yes, Dad.” “And you still feel . . . ?” “Just this once. I’d rather not, but I can’t help it.” His eyes clouded. “Something se rious?” “Yes . . .” “And you can’t tell me?” “I wish I could.” He smiled bravely. “Don’t forget we’re buddies, Kay.” She kissed him, hard, on the lips. “You know how much I love you, don’t you, Dad?” “I know.” He patted her shoul der gently. “Watch yourself, Kay. And don’t forget you’re mighty young." She walked downstairs, swiftly, purposefully. Mrs. Forrest made a last, desperate stand. “I order you not to go out with that man.” Kay’s glance was unyielding. “I’m sorry. Mother.” She passed through the front door, climbed into the little coupe beside Kirk Reynolds and rolled west on Chicora Avenue. Her lips were tight set. Kay said, “You sent for me, Kirk. What’s wrong?” And he answered, “Plenty.” They rode in silence, Kay’s eyes cloudy with trouble; Kirk’s face in scrutable. The sapphire sky was brilliantly clear, the April sun bright and warm, yet Kay shivered. A car approached them, coming from Chicora. The driver saw Kay as they passed, and her face flushed. It was a brief passing, a quick rec ognition . . . yet Kay knew, without looking around, that the driver of the other car had been startled— and that he had turned to look after her. She said, somewhat bitterly, “It would be that way.’’ Kirk said, in a flat voice, “Who was it?” “Barney Hamilton.” “The lad whose mother owns the Gardens?” “Yes.” They reached the intersection of the concrete Federal highway and Kirk swung to the right. His voice was toneless, almost disinterested. “What’s the setup there, Kay?” “Where?” “Between you and that Hamilton guy?” “What difference does it make?” "None. I Just asked.” His eyes did not leave the broad ribbon of road which unwound un der their wheels. Kay said, “I like him—a lot.” “So I imagined.” "What made you think so?” “Your expression when we passed him.” That faint, mocking smile passed briefly across Kirk’s lips. “Has he gone for you?” “I don’t know.” “Okay. But he has.” Kay’s body felt uncomfortably warm. "I’d rather net talk about Barney—” ‘‘—To me, you mean?” “Yes.” Her own voice had be come edged. "And I might as well tell you something else, Kirk. This is my last ride with you." "That so?” “Yes. People are talking . . .” His voice was sharp. “Who?” ‘‘Everybody. My family and—” “What are they saying?” “That you’re not the sort of per son a nice girl should be going with.” He laughed mirthlessly. “I’m not.” Then, after a brief pause, “Are they saying anything else?” “I don’t know.” “I mean about the last time we were out together?” She shrank away from him. “Please, Kirk . . .” “They will,” he remarked acidly, “sooner or later.” She said, “I know it. That’s why I’m not going out with you any more.” He d-an’t answer that. His foot depressed the accelerator ever so slightly and the speedometer moved ahead to forty-five. The road was broad and smooth, cars buzzed by, farm cars and trucks and several big sedans headed toward Beverly and Cathedral Gardens. Kirk said dryly, “Your bo/ friend’s mother has done quite a job.” “Please, Kirk . . .” “She has, really. The town was dead until she came into the pic ture.” “I’d rather not . . . Why did you send for me?” “Reasons.” “Nothing wrong, is there?” “Yes.” “You mean . . . ?” “You’ll find out.” She pressed her lips together. “Please take me back.” “Not now.” “But it’s getting late." “Not noon yet.” “Where are you taking me?” “Springdale.” “To Springdale? But Kirk—I can’t!” "Yes, you can. You can do ex actly what I say.” She glanced at his face. It was like granite. Hard. Unconsciona bly I.ard and dangerous. She asked, "Wny are you taking me there?” There was no emotion in his voice. He made a flat statement. He said, “You and I are going to get married.” Kirk Reynolds drove on In silence. He might have said, “The weather is pleasant.” He might have said, “We’re going to Springdale for lunch.” Instead, in just so casual • manner, he had stated that they were about to be married. Kay’s hazel eyes were wide and frightened. Unconscious of the ges ture, she pressed one hand against her lips. She didn’t even ask wheth er he was serious. Kirk was not addicted to making statements which he did not mean. But she did say, “I don’t love you” and he answered, tersely, "That has noth ing to do with it.” Words were a relief. “It’s impos sible,” she declared and he smiled again; that mirthless, mocking smile. He said, “I don’t think so.” Then she asked, “But why? Do you think that you care for me?” “No.” “And yet . . . Oh, Kirk! You’re joking, surely.” “Not exactly. Here’s the license.” He tossed it into her lap. It had been issued in Springdale, that pros perous agricultural county which ad joined Beauregard on the north. The names stared up at her: Kirk Rey nolds, age 28; Katherine Forrest, age 19. “We’ll be married by a magistrate or a preacher. It’s your wedding. Take your choice." The thing was too startling, too bewildering. She said, without con viction: “I won’t do it!” “Yes, you will.” “But why?” “Because I say so.” ”1 can’t!” she cried desperately. “It isn’t possible. I—I’m in love with someone else.” He shrugged. “That makes no difference.” He turned his cold eyes upon her. “Perhaps you’ve forgot ten that night.” “No! I couldn’t forget that.” “Then try to remember exactly what happened. Perhaps then you’ll understand whether I’m fooling.” She turned frightened eyes upon him. “Is it really necessary, Kirk?” His explanation was, to him, suf ficient. It was made without inter est, a mere cold stater-»nt of fact. “In this State” '-v Rey nolds, "a wife cannot be compelled to testify against her husband.” The preacher, a rather gaunt and unkempt individual, pronounced Kirk Reynolds and Katherine For rest man and wife. Then, gratui tously, he intoned a long and son orous prayer, during the course of which Kay kept her eyes fixed upon the minister’s wife: a nondescript person in a long coat which had been donned hurriedly in the pres ent emergency to cover an un ceremonial wrapper. Behind her stood a grinning Negress, impressed into service as a second witness. Kay had ceased to think. She had ceased to feel. She knew that something terrible was luppening; something of awful finjity. She knew the same cold fear which had paralyzed her that night on the road when a gun had spoken harshly from Kirk’s hand, and now she sensed, rather than saw, Kirk produce a wallet and press a bill into the far-from-unwilling palm of the preacher. She wanted to laugh. Or to cry. She was audience and actor. It was as though she were preparing to leave the movie theater in Bev erly after having suffered through a dreadful and unreal tragedy. She heard the whispered, surprised com ment of the portly Negress, "Golla! Don’t look as if he’s even gwine kiss the bride.” When they were in the car again, headed home, Kirk drove slowly. Once he even smiled, thinly, as he said, “Snap out of it, Kay.” She nodded, waiting for him to speak again. “Do you understand why I did it?” he inquired. “No . . .” “Had to. You’re not a bad kid, but you happened to be in the wrong “Snap ont of it, Kay." place at the wrong time. Now I’m afraid Beverly is wising up.” Conversation—even this sort of conversation—was a relief. She said, “What do you mean?” “You pulled a dumb play that night. You dropped your compact near Jackson’s body.” “My compact . . . ?” She re membered missing it. “But it wasn’t marked.” “Folks knew it was yours.” "It could have belonged to any tourist, couldn’t it?” "It could. But it didn’t. Where’d you get it?” She said, “Barney Hamilton gava it to me.” “I thought so. None like it in Beverly. Swank stuff. And there’s not a woman in town who hasn’t noticed it. I only found out yester day it had been picked up—out there.” “They—they couldn’t prove it was mine.” "They could try,” he stated dryly. “But I promised you I’d never tell what I saw.” “Sure you did. You’d have been too wise to blab. But you’re a kid. Smart enough in some ways, but dumb as hell in others. The Solici tor for this circuit is shrewd. He’s been asking questions. Lots of folks remember we were at the dance to gether and that we went riding that night. If you had been picked up suddenly and had a bucketful of questions thrown at you, you’d have given yourself away.” “But can’t they still do that?” “Sure. And where would it get ’em. You might even be tricked into telling the truth. Not meaning to, of course. But what good would it do? What you tell the Solicitor ain’t evidence in this State. They’ve got to get it out of you on th« witness stand, and they can’t make you take the stand against me—now that we’re married.” “You think they’ll try you for kill ing Harvey Jackson?” “Not now they won’t. No wit nesses. Couldn’t possibly convict me.” “But if they’re sure ...” “They’re never sure. And if they were, that ain’t evidence. You’rs the only person who could convict me. And you won’t.” She was silent for a long time. Then, “What are you going to de now, Kirk?” “About what?” “Us.” He shrugged indifferently. “Noth ing.” “You mean . . .” “Living together? Hell—I didn’t mwry you for that. So long as yo* keep your mouth shut, you can 4a what you want.” .'TO UK CONTIUVKJU. . Catarrh May Result From Bent Septums By DR. JAMES W. BARTON OST physicians pay little or no attention to bends in the septums—the partition between the two nostrils. As a matter of fact, a nose with a straight septum is almost rare. It is estimated that perhaps one in every five or ten is about the average finding. The reason little or no at tention is paid to a bent or deflected septum is that the physician figures that there is no difference in air space be tween 50 and 50 each side in a straight septum and 60 and 40 with a bent septum; they both add up to 100. This, of course, refers to slight bends or deflections. What about severe bends or de flections of the septum? Can the severe deflection cause symptoms? When the deflection is so severe that it actually closes up one side of the nose there will not be any air going to or coming from the lungs on that side. This means lack of ventilation of the sinuses on that side of the head and lack of draining of any mucous from the sinuses. Dr. Barton -Dr. W. S. Syme of Glasgow, whom I have quoted before, in the British Medical Journal, tells us that mid dle ear and catarrhal conditions are found very often with deflection of the septum. When severe, it may cause pain by pressing against the side wall of the nose. However, the blockage of the little opening from sinus into the nose prevents mucous or pus from draining out into nose and throat, causing se vere pain from pressure. In these cases the bend or deflection is high up in the nose due to injury—fopt- ball, boxing, or a fall. The point about this is that while most of us have a bent septum and no treatment is required, in cases of sinus trouble, catarrh or middle ear conditions wjiere good ventila tion and drainage is necessary, one with a bent septum is more likely to have severe pain and require op eration than one whose septum is straight. A bent or deflected septum, even if badly deflected, which is causing no symptoms requires no treatment. • • « Causes of Chronic Arthritis Despite our knowledge of prevent ing rheumatism—arthritis—by re moving infection from teeth, tonsils, sinuses, gall bladder, together with proper rest, diet and exercise, there are many cases which become chronic before infection has been removed. The infection in joints has caused changes that often can not be repaired or corrected and the patient is afflicted with stiffness, pain, and some degree of deformity. In speaking of these cases of chronic arthritis, Dr. Robert T. Phillips, Boston, in the New Eng land Journal of Medicine, tells of the help that can be given by “physical” medicine or treatment—rest, exer cise, massage, and electricity. Dr. Phillips points out that rest is needed by chronic arthritis because of the long drain on their nervous and physical energy caused by the infection. The suggestion is an hour’s rest after meals. Two posi tions are taken. For the first 30 minutes the patient lies on his back, stretched well out, a pillow under lower back and the knees but not under the head. For the second 30 minutes he turns face down, sup ported by a pillow placed crosswise under his abdomen. Joints Should Be Straight. In regard to exercise, arthritis must not allow joints to remain in a bent position. No matter what the degree of arthritis, the patient can carry out some exercise—lying, standing, sitting, walking—to move his joints and strengthen his muscles. In regard to heat Dr. Phillips sug gests the use of hot water applica tions by means of some woolen material covered with a towel or blanket to hold in the heat. The massage is done by the use of long, smooth strokes in a direc tion toward tne heart as it is the return circulation of the blood that needs help. If pain is present, mas sage should be gentle. Heat should be applied before or during the mas sage. In regard to electricity, it is un fortunate that physicians do not give more attention to acquiring the knowledge of the proper methods of using electricity in the treatment of chronic arthritis as it gives excel lent results in skillful hands. When proper treatment by electricity is not available, the use of the other “physical” forms of treatment— rest, heat, exercise, and massage —faithfully carried out will give sat isfactory results. (Released by Western Newspaper Union.) TODAY'S HEALTH COLUMN HOUSEHOLD QUESTIONS Meatless Dish. — Cooked com and green beans mixed with a white sauce and scalloped makes a tempting meatless dish. • * • Before Washing New Cotton Goods.—Remove the dressing by soaking in cold water to which a handful of salt has been added. * * • Flaky Potatoes.—Boiled pota toes are often watery because they are allowed to stand in water after they are cooked. As soon as they are tender when tested with a fork, drain and shake them for a minute over a low fire. • * * ^ Apple Skins for Flavor.—If skins peeled from apples when making pies are boiled until soft, then strained into pie shell before put ting in apples, the flavor of pie is improved. « • • FILMS Developed* Printed Any Size Roll , 6 or 8 Exposures (t Fadeless Pnnts • Postage Paid • DIXIE ITEM SERVICE V. a Em 43KS-A Atlaata. Ca. T Have you noticed that In hot Weather your digestion and elimina tion seem to become torpid or lazy? Your food sours, forms gas, causes belching, heartburn, and a feeling of restlessness and Irritability. Your tongue may be coated, your com plexion bilious, and your bowel action sluggish or insufficient. These are some of the sym] of biliousness or so-called Liver,” so prevalent in hot climai They call for calomel, or better i' Calotabs, the nausealess compound tablets mat make calo mel-taking a pleasure. Calotabs give you the effects of calomel and salts combined, help' Nature to expel the sour, bile and washing it out of the system. One or two Calotabs at bed time with a glass of water,—that’s all. Next morning your system feels clean and refreshed, your head Is clear, your spirit bright, and you are feeling fine with a hearty appetite for breakfast. Eat what you wish and go about your work or pleasure. Genuine Calotabs are sold only la checker-board (black and white) pack ages bearing tbe trade mark “Calotabs.” Refuse Imitations. Trial package only ten cents; family package twenty-five cents, at your dealer’s (Adv.) The Heart Knows When thy hand hath done a good act, ask thy heart whether it was well done.—Fuller. (NT Remarkable relief for Eczema, Ath lete'. Foot. Boils. Itching, Chapping and other external nan troubles. Liberal else jar 50c. Money refund ed U not satisfied. Order Now. TARZKMA CHBMICAL COMPANY Box 472 ... Chicago. DL Poor Pleasure Revenge is always the pleasure of a little, weak and narrow mind. —Juvenal. HANDY VotnellM JARS 5* AMD IO< Two in Bargain You must ask your neighbor if you shall live in peace. Malaria* Chills* Fever Teke rabble Owbw. Stop. cMb Mid J feirar, drain bleed ef ledMie. Fmmm for SO yeera. Money-beck juorantoe. At Peak of Jest When the jest is at its best ’twill be well to let it rest. blindness may result when yon neglect twitching, watery, bloodshot, sore eyes. Leonardl’s Golden Eye Lotion relieves nearly every eye trouble. Cools, heals and streafitb- «“• LEONARD!’S GOLDEN EYE LOTION MAXES WEAK EYES STRONG Nnr Large Size with Dropper—SO eemtt S. B. Looaardl & Co. I You find them announced in the columns of this paper by merchants of our community who do not feel they must keep the quality of their merchan dise or their prices under cover. It is sale to buy of the mer chant who ADVERTISES,