The sun. [volume] (Newberry, S.C.) 1937-1972, September 15, 1939, Image 6
THE SUN, NEWBERRY, S. C, FRIDAY. SEPTEMBER 15. 1939
CHILD OF EVIL
• OCTAVUS ROT COHKN
WNU SERVICE
By OCTAVUS ROY COB
SYNOPSIS
Beaunnn, young Kay Forrest has 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
Jeff 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 Barney, of whom
Kay Is very fCnd, 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, popular engineer. Kay is completely stunned by the tragedy. Kirk threat
ens to drag her ipto 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 wroqg. She tells him nothing. Mrs. Emma Forrest, Kay’s
mother, is firm, positive and demanding. Her father is exactly the opposite, kindly,
and unassuming. While at home Kirk Reynolds calls for her, and she is forced to go
with him despite her family’s protests. He tells her the circumstances make it nec
essary for her to marry him so she cannot be forced to testify against him if he is
accused of Jackson’s murder. They drive to a neighboring town and are married.
CHAPTER IV—Continued
DESSERTS IMPORTANT IN MENU
(Recipes Below.)
the creamed mixture alternately
with the milk. Beat egg whites un-
"Could—could we keep our wed-
4Ing a secret?” asked Kay.
“Certainly not. I want people to
know. In fact, that’s the big idea—
so they’ll understand that there’s no
use trying to convict me.”
Her thoughts were chaotic. Frag
ments of ideas. She said, “I wish I
• hadn’t married you.”
The ear slowed perceptibly. He
said, “You’re not really damn fool
enough to wish that.”
His words were not harsh. He
merely made a statement. He went
on. “You do whatever you want.
I’ll do the same. If anybody ques
tions you, you don’t know a thing.
You’ve got nothing to say.”
Kirk was speaking. “I’m drop
ping you at your house. There’s no
need repeating anything. Just re
member this: keep your guard up
all the time.”
“But when they ask why?”
“Tell ’em anything. They’ll know
you’re lying—but they won’t know
the truth. And that’s all that mat
ters with me.”
There was a car parked In front
of her house. A small car. Barney
Was waiting.
CHAPTER V
Barney drove slowly through the
traffic which congested Monument
Square. They passed the White
Star Hotel, gay in its new yellow
paint with white trimmings, and
they rolled by the Bon Ton Pool
Boom before swinging into Palmet
to Avenue. Kay said, "Drop me at
Dad’s office, will you, Barney?”
The young man’s face was grave.
He said, “Certainly. Shall I go up
with you?”
“No.” She left the car and mount
ed the narrow dusty stairway lead
ing to the second floor of the Fraser
Block, that rambling four-story, red
brick structure which served, after
a fashion, as Beverly’s one and only
office building.
Barney gazed upon this section of
Beverly with some distaste. As a
matter of fact, he was far from
happy. He had passed Kay and
Kirk Reynolds on the road that
morning. He had been waiting at
Kay’s home when she had returned
with the same man. And Barney
didn’t like Kirk Reynolds. Not that
he was at all shocked by the fact
that Kirk was a black sheep, a
gambler and a gentleman of flexible
morals . . . but he knew that Kirk
was different and picturesque, and
that Kay was young and impres
sionable.
He waited, it seemed, intermina
bly. The day was ending in a blaze
of crimson. He began to fancy him
self a very injured young man. He
donned a mantle of dignity . . .
and discarded it the instant Kay ap
peared on the sidewalk and climbed
into the car beside him.
He saw that she had been crying.
It was then that he forgot that he
had been ill treated. Kay Forrest
crying! It was impossible. It dis
turbed him profoundly.
He reached over and squeezed her
hand. “Have a good time, Duch
ess?”
She nodded, but the little lump in
her throat made speech impossible.
Barney plunged ahead, hoping to
arouse her. He gestured boyishly
toward the radiance which was
bathing the country-side.
“Our best and most guaranteed
sunset. Positively genuine, or your
money refunded. Service free to
tourists and patrons of Cathedral
Gardens. Particularly interesting
on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fri
days. Ladies’ Day Tuesday . . .
gee! Kay, isn’t there some way I
can help?”
It was sudden. Abrupt. Devastat-
ingly kindly—this change from ban
ter to sympathy. Kay’s defenses
crumbled. Her voice broke and she
said, “Oh, Barney . . .”
He drove with one hand, holding
her arm with the other.
“Is it as bad as that, Chica?”
She tried to talk, but the words
would not come. Unconsciously, she
moved closer to him, so that her
body touched his. Then she spoke,
without taking tear-dimmed eyes
from the road. She said, simply,
“I love you, Barney.”
His face lighted. He clamped on
the brakes and stopped the car. But
when his arms reached for her, she
moved away. The eyes which she
turned upon him were filled with
tragedy, and she said, “No. Not
that. I—I Just wanted you to know.”
Puzzled, perturbed, he drove on—
though very, very slowly. His voice
was almost a whisper.
“I love you, too, Kay. But you’ve
Known that for a long time, haven’t
you?” And she answered, “Yea.’*
Two big cars whirled by them,
creating dust-clouds on the gravel
road. Dusk was settling over the
country-side like a benediction. The
air was fragrant with the fine, clean
odor of pine.
Barney wanted to help. He knew
he must do something . . . anything
to shock her out of this emotional
depression.
He said gently, “Will you marry
me, Kay?”
The effect was startling. Her eyes
widened and she turned in her seat.
She cried, “Oh! Barney—please
don’t.”
The car had stopped, and night
enfolded them.
“Why?” he asked.
“You mustn’t ...”
He held one of her hands between
both of his. “But you’re wrong,
honey, I must. In fact . . and
he tried to laugh, “In fact, I should
have asked you long ago.”
She said, then, “I wish you had.”
He saw only the top of her head,
heard only the ghost of her voice.
“I’m married, Barney.”
He was shocked “You’re what?”
“I’m married.”
“But Kay . . .” For the first time
he was beginning to understand that
life was not always kindly. “I just
don’t get it.”
She shook her head helplessly.
"Neither do I.”
She clung to him. "Please try to
understand, Barney.”
He said, “I’ll try, honey. But it
doesn’t make sense. It isn’t you—or
me.” His face was serious; older
than she had ever seen it. Maturity
seemed to have collided with him.
“How long have you been mar
ried?”
“A few hours.”
“To whom?”
She looked away. “Kirk Rey
nolds.”
“Good Lord! You mean—when I
passed you this morning you were
on your way to be married?”
“Yes ...”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I—I didn’t know. Then ”
His hand tightened on her arm.
“This is all screwy, honey. What
do you mean, you didn’t know?”
"I didn’t. It happened sudden
ly . . .”
“But why? Surely, you’re not in
love with him.”
“You know I’m not.” She tried to
be brave. “Listen, Barney . . . trjr
to believe me ...”
“I’ll try.”
“I had to marry him—”
“Had to!”
“No! Don’t misunderstand. Oh,
please . . . It’s something I can’t
explain. That’s why I told you first
that I love you. It sort of gave me
courage to tell you the rest. I mar
ried Kirk because I had to . . . be
cause there were reasons which I
can’t explain to you. Ever.”
He said, “Things like this can’t
happen, honey.”
“They have happened. And I need
your help more than you can under
stand. I need to know that you care
for me, that you’re going to keep on
caring for me. And that you won’t
torture me with questions I can’t
answer.”
“Why can’t you answer them?”
“Because I’m afraid.”
His jaw was set grimly. “Of
what?”
“That’s what I can’t explain.
Don’t you see that I’m telling the
truth . . . that I didn’t do this
thing because I wanted to?” She
was suddenly more womanly. “If
there was any other reason, Barney,
I wouldn’t be leaving Beverly to
night, would I?”
“I suppose not . . .” His face
flushed. “You’re not going to live
with him?”
“Of course not.”
He laughed shortly. This wasn’t
the Barney she had known for a
year and a half . . . and she knew
that she had changed, too. Two
youngsters faced with ugly fact,
grappling with a problem which was
too big for them. He said, “There
was a reason—of course.”
“Yes. And you’d know—if I could
only tell you—that I couldn’t do
anything else.”
“Can’t you trust me?”
“Yes . . . But I still can’t tell
you.”
She felt his muscles grow taut.
“I’m not a child, Kay.”
“That isn’t it. It’s something . . .
Oh, Barney! I can’t explain. I
couldn’t even tell my father. He
asked everything you are ask
ing . . .”
“What did he say?”
“He was hurt . . . but he under
stood. He was shocked. But he
was kindly—and brave,”
“What do you mean, brave?"
A faint, pitiful little smile flick
ered across her lips. “I gave him
the job of telling Mother. And Andy.
That isn’t going to be very pleas
ant."
Barney spoke slowly.
“You don’t love Kirk Reynolds,
yet you married him today. You
married him because you are afraid
of something. You are running
away from Beverly because you
don’t want to face gossip . . .
which means that you know the
marriage won’t, be kept secret. You
couldn’t tell your father the truth
and you can’t tell me. Have I got
it right?”
“Yes.”
“I think I’ll have a chat with Kirk
Reynolds.”
“No!” She was terrified. “Prom
ise me you won’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“It would only make matters
worse.”
“What can I do, then?”
“Just what Dad is doing. You can
be my friend. You can, perhaps,
try to make me think that you be
lieve whatever I have done is right.
“What’s wrong. Son?”
You can let me talk . . . and you
can help me to forget the whole
thing.”
“But if you’re married to him—”
“I’m not, though. We simply went
through a ceremony.”
“That sort of marriage can be
annulled.”
“Dad said that. But this mar
riage can’t be.”
“Why?”
“Because the same thing that
frightened me into marrying Kirk
would prevent that.”
“Will you ever tell me the whole
truth?”
“I—I don’t know.”
“In other words,” he said serious
ly, “you’re giving me a job to do?
Something pretty rotten has hap
pened to you. It has played hell
with your nerves. I’m to snap you
out of it if I can.”
“Yes . . .”
“You’d like me to forget that this
cuts pretty deep. You’d like me to
be the clown again ... to kid
along as I’ve always done ... to
make rather an ass of myself.
Right?”
“You make it sound silly.”
“I don’t mean to. I’m trying to
make you see that I understand how
you feel. And it would help if I
could get you laughing again,
wouldn’t it?”
She asked, “Could you?”
“I don’t know. But I can try.”
“Then try . . . please.” She
caught one of his hands: “But oh!
Barney, if you’re being very, very
funny some time and I suddenly
start crying . . . you won’t mis
understand?”
“No,” he said, “I won’t. Not even
if I start crying, too.”
He started the car and moved on
through the night. They did not
talk, but again she moved so close
that her body touched his. There
was something so reassuring in this
brief contact, something so fine in
the stem expression of his boyish
face.
At home they crossed the veranda
and entered the big living-room.
Mrs. Hamilton greeted them from
the chair under the reading-lamp.
“Nice day?” she inquired.
Kay said, “Yes, ma’am.”
“Upstairs, You.” Barney was
smiling gallantly. “And make it
snappy.”
Barney waited at the foot of the
stairway until the girl’s slender an
kles had disappeared. Then he
walked toward his mother’s chair.
She rose to meet him, instinctively
knowing that all was not as it should
be.
He put his hands on his mother’s
shoulders and looked down into her
eyes.
“Tough sledding,” he said.
“What’s wrong, Son?”
“Kay’s in a jam. I’ll tell you
about it before she comes down.”
His voice broke slightly. “I know
you’re going to help—you and Mar
garet. Be as gentle as you can."
He turned abruptly and walked
frora the room. Ruth Hamilton
looked after him, worry and pride
in her eyes.
Something had happened. She
knew that a boy had gone to Beverly
that morning, and that a man had
returned. •
• • •
At the rear of the White Stai
Hotel lobby, just opposite the dining
room and near the foot of the stair?
was a door with a sign:
MISS SONIA HENKEL
BEAUTICIAN
If you were a guest of the hotel,
this sign would not surprise you,
inasmuch as you would long since
have found a card on your dresser
divulging the same information,
with this added: that Miss Henkel
was expert and experienced, that
she cheerfully and efficiently dis
pensed shampoos, finger-waves,
marcels and facials; that her prices
were reasonable and her work swift.
But residents of Beverly had net
yet recovered from the shock oi
Miss Henkel, nor quite allayed their
resentment.
This resentment had been, at first,
a purely commercial thing emanat
ing from the second-floor beauty-
salon owned and operated by a
maiden lady named Trelane. Ethel
Trelane. Miss Trelant had a per
manent-waving machine and other
impressive accessories and ever
since the commencement of the era
in which ladies ceased to keep secret
their quest for additional pulchri
tude, Miss Trelane and her shop
had been regarded as the ultimate
of Beverly urbanity.
But with the opening of Cathedral
Gardens and the sudden and bewil
dering influx of tourists, Miss Sonia
Henkel had come. Mr. Robbie
Morse, proprietor of the hotel, was
reputed to have made the entirely
uncivic remark that Ethel’s handi
work might be good enough for these
here local dames who never was
accustomed to nothin’ better, but
female tourists had got to hava
class.
Shortly after being ushered into
the world some twenty-five years
since in Brooklyn, New York, Miss
Henkel’s very poor and rather hon
est parents had christened her Sa-
die. That name had irked the juve
nile Miss Henkel until the first year
of high school—whereupon she had
abandoned high school and all that
went with it, including the name
Sadie.
Sadie Henkel left home without
particular regrets on either side.
The following day Miss Sonia Hen
kel applied for—and obtained—a po
sition as cash girl in a New York
department store. Thereafter, her
career was interesting, if not totally
immaculate. She acquired gentle
man friends, the nickname of Babe,
an intriguing dance technique and
an intimacy with life which com
pleted her education in an exceed
ingly practical way.
Thereafter she had been many
things to many persons. Cash girl.
Seventh Avenue dress model, cus
tomers’ party girl, manicurist, stu
dent at a beauty school—and finally
a full-fledged and rather expert
beautician. And in the course of
her travels she acquired an interest
ing sophistication, a certain exotic
beauty, a husky voice and the pro
tective friendship of Kirk Reynolds.
Kirk and Babe were excellent
friends.
As a matter of fact, Babe Henkel
was very deeply in love with Mr.
Reynolds. She admired his virtues
and his vices; she adored him for
what hf was—no matter what. She
had come to Beverly to relieve his
boredom; she did not permit soggy
sentiment to intrude upon their
friendship.
This afternoon she had been busy,
but the last customer had departed
when the telephone rang. It was
Kirk: his words close-clipped as usu
al, his tone authoritative.
“Busy?”
“No.”
“Come up.”
Babe inspected herself in the mir
ror. She saw a woman slightly
above medium height; well and
firmly rounded. Her face was oval
and framed by sleek black hair
brushed tightly against her head.
Her eyebrows were commas, her
mouth wide but well shaped: an
interesting mouth with a frame of
scarlet lips. She closed and locked
the door, walked up to the second
floor—not unconscious of admiring
masculine glances—and knocked on
the door of Kirk’s room.
He passively accepted the kiss she
bestowed upon him. He said, “Sit
down, Babe.”
She settled her figure into a chair
opposite.
“What’s on your mind, Kirk?”
“Plenty. Can you take it?”
Two tiny, vertical lines appeared
bric.ly on her forehead. She said,
“Let's have it.”
He said, “I’m married.”
Dark lashes, lashes which were
heavy with mascara, rose swiftly
from black eyes.
“You’re kidding . . .”
“No.”
That was all. Curt. Abrupt. Cru
el, even.
Miss Henkel’s eyes were steady.
Dangerous. Her voice matched
Kirk’s in coldness. She asked.
“When?”
“This afternoon.”
“Who to?”
“Kay Forrest.”
Babe said, “You’re a fine louse.-
“You think so?”
“I know it.”
“Smart girl, ain’t you?”
She stared at him. “So what does
this make me?” she inquired.
“Anything you want.”
“I’m expected to take it sitting
down?”
“I don’t particularly care.”
*TQ SJB caiiTJLMIUM/**--
Desserts That Are
Different
Build up your menu to an inter
esting climax with a new and de
licious dessert!
Desserts really play an important
part in the menu, and in nutrition,
too.
Sweets, provided in proper
amounts and in the proper place in
the diet, are just as necessary to
good nutrition as milk, meat, fruits,
vegetables and cereals.
Plan the dessert to fit the menu—a
light sweet for the close of a hearty
dinner, and a richer, heavier des
sert to wind up the meal that is
fairly simple. Consider the weather,
too, and when it’s hot and humid,
serve sweets that are temptingly
dainty. When the temperature drops
and appetites perk up accordingly,
desserts may be sweeter, richer and
more substantial.
You’ll find in this collection of
tested recipes from my own kitchen
a dessert for almost any occasion.
Queen of Puddings.
2 cups milk
1 cup soft bread crumbs
1 tablespoon butter (melted)
2 egg yolks (well beaten)
3 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Dash salt
Currant jelly
2 egg whites
V4 cup granulated sugar
Scald milk and pour over the soft
bread crumbs. Add melted butter,
and allow the
mixture to stand
10 minutes. Then
beat egg yolks
and add to the
mixture, together
with 3 table
spoons sugar, the
vanilla extract
and the salt. Pour
this mixture into
a buttered baking
dish, place in a
pan of hot water,
and bake in a slow oven (275 de
grees Fahrenheit for 45-50 minutes
or until custard is firm.
\ Cool and spread with a layer of
currant jelly or strawberry jam.
Cover with meringue made by beat
ing egg whites and adding sugar
slowly. Brown meringue in a slow
oven (300 degrees Fahrenheit) for
18 minutes. Serve hot, warm or
cold.
Lemon Meringue Pie.
1 cup sugar
% cup cornstarch
V4 teaspoon salt
% cup cold water
% cup boiling water
3 egg yolks
1 tablespoon butter
V4 cup lemon juice
1 teaspoon grated lemon rind
Combine sugar, cornstarch and
salt. Add cold water; stir until
smooth. Add boil
ing water and
cook, stirring
constantly, until
mixture is clear
and thick. Cook 3
minutes longer.
Beat egg yolks;
stir cooked mix
ture into them. Add remaining in
gredients, return to flame and cook
1 minute. Pour immediately into
baked pie shell. Top with meringue.
Meringue.
3 egg whites
6 tablespoons sugar
% teaspoon salt
Beat egg whites partially; then
add sugar slowly, beating until mix
ture is stiff. Bake in slow oven
(300 degrees) for 18 minutes.
Maple Cake.
% cup shortening
1% cups brown sugar
3 eggs (separated)
2 teaspoons maple flavoring
2 cups cake flour
3 teaspoons baking powder
V4 teaspoon salt
% cup milk
Cream shortening thoroughly, add
sugar in small amounts, creaming
after each addition. Add egg yolks,
one at a time, continuing to beat
well. Blend in the flavoring. Sift
dry ingredients together, and add to
til stiff but not dry. Fold gently into
the batter. Pour into two well-
greased cake pans, 9 inches in diam
eter and 2 inches deep. Bake in a
moderate oven (350 degrees) for
about 40 minutes. Note: This cake
is especially good with a fig filling
and mapie-flavored frosting.
Steamed Chocolate Pudding.
(Serves 5)
1% cups pastry flour
Y* teaspoon salt
1% teaspoons baking powder
1% squares bitter chocolate
3 tablespoons butter
Yz cup sugar
1 egg
Yz cup milk
Yz teaspoon vanilla extract
Vanilla or peppermint candy
ice cream
Sift flour, salt and baking powder.
Melt chocolate and butter in top of
double boiler and pour in bowl.
Cool slightly; then add sugar, un
beaten egg, milk and vanilla extract.
Beat well. Add sifted dry ingredi
ents and stir until smooth. Pour
into top of a well-greased double
boiler and steam for 1% hours.
Serve with ice cream.
Graham Cracker Ice Cream.
1 cup graham cracker crumbs
% cup sugar
2 cups coffee cream
1 cup milk
1 teaspoon Vanilla extract
Combine the cracker crumbs and
the sugar; add cream, milk, and
vanilla. Pour the
mixture into the
freezing contain
er of a modern
ice cream freez
er; assemble the
freezer, and cov
er. Pack with a mixture of 3 parts
of crushed ice to 1 part of rock
salt. Turn the crank slowly and
steadily, for about 5 minutes, or un
til turning becomes difficult. Then
carefully remove the cover, lift out
the dasher, and pack down the ice
cream with a spoon. Replace the
cover, draw off the water, and re
plenish with ice and salt. Cover,
and allow to harden for at least an
hour before serving.
Good Old Pan Dowdy.
1 cup light molasses
Y\ teaspoon allspice
Yx teaspoon clove
Vs teaspoon nutmeg
2 teaspoons cinnamon
Apples
Yz cup sugar
2 tablespoons butter
Rich pastry
Combine molasses and spices. Ar
range pared and sliced apples in a
baking dish, sprinkle with sugar, and
dot with butter. Pour molasses mix
ture over this, and cover with a
rich pastry, rolled rather thick. Bake
in a moderate oven (350 degrees)
for about 45 minutes. Then cut the
baked pastry top in 2-inch squares
and push them down in the molasses
and apple mixture. Let cool slight
ly. Serve with thick cream.
Send for This Clever Book.
Turn to Eleanor Howe’s easy-to-
use homemaking guide, “Household
Hints,” for the answers to those
tricky questions which pop up even
in the best-run households. How to
prevent cereals from lumping; how
to wash feather pillows or adjust
curtain tie-backs; how to remove
mildew from colored clothing —
you’ll find the answers to these and
many other puzzling questions in
Eleanor Howe’s book, “Household
Hints.” Send 10 cents in coin to
“Household Hints,” care of Eleanor
Howe, 919 North Michigan Avenue,
Chicago, Illinois, to get your copy
of “Household Hints” now.
Perhaps it isn’t literally true
that the way to a man’s heart is
through his stomach but good,
wholesome food attractively
served goes a long way toward
keeping him healthy and happy!
Next week Eleanor Howe will
tell you about “Foods Men Like
to Eat” and will give you some
of her own recipes which are fa
vorites with men.
(Released by Western Newspaper Union.)
An Amateur Decorator
Uses a Curved Needle
By RUTH WYETH SPEARS
“I")EAR MRS. SPEARS: Some
time ago in an article you
suggested using a curved needle,
such as upholsterers use, for sew
ing heavy cord trimming in place.
I found that these needles are also
used in making candle wicking
bedspreads and are on sale in
most notion and fancy work de
partments. Mine has been very
useful to me; especially when re-
upholptering an old chair. This
is just one of the many useful
hints I have found in your articles
and books. Thank you so much
for all of them.—G. H.”
Here is the picture of the curved
needle used to sew bright con
trasting cord to an upholstered
couch. It is a useful tool when
you are sewing to fabric that is
stretched tightly. Everyone who
finds pleasure in making a home
attractive needs to know these lit
tle tricks that give work a profes
sional touch.
Original ideas with complete di
rections for slipcovers; draperies
and other furnishings are in the
new Sewing Book No. 3. Every
homemaker should have a copy;
as well as everyone who likes to
make gifts, and items for bazaars.
The price is only 10 cents post
paid. Send coin with name and
address to Mrs. Spears, 210 S. Des-
plaines St., Chicago, 111.
/ \
To Correct Constipation
Don’t Get It!
Why let yourself in for an the
discomfort of constipation—and
then have to take an emergency
medicine—if you can avoid both
by getting at the cause of the
trouble?
If your difficulty, like that of
millions, is dun to lack of “bulk''
in the diet, the “better way” is to
eat Kellogg’s All-Bran. This
crunchy toasted cereal—a natu
ral food, not a medicine—has Just
the “bulk” you need. If you eat it
every day, it will help you not only
to get regular but to keep regu
lar, month after month, by the
pleasantest means you ever knew!
Eat All-Bran dally, drink plenty
of water, and “Join the Regulars."
Made by Kellogg’s in Battle
Creek. Gold by every grocer.
V /
Education but Beginning
Education begins the gentle
man; but reading, good company,
and reflection must finish him.—
Locke.
Stainless, snow-whits
‘ItR Penetro helps relax
muscular tightness—,
eases soreness. Try it,
PENETRO
Greatest Loss
He who loses wealth loses much,
he who loses a friend loses more,
but he that loses his courage loses
all. ^
IT MOST BE GOOD!
Any medicine that has been used
for generation after generation
MUST bepood. That’s the record
behind Wintersmith’s—over 70
years of continuous demand. Mil
lions of people have preferred it—
millions both in America and in
21 foreign countries. TRY Winter-
smith’s as a General Tonic, and for
Malaria. Then judge for yourself.
WINTERSNITH'S
TONIC
Short-Lived
The devil’s friendship reaches
only to the prison door.
FILMS
Developed - Printed
Any Sixe Roll
6 or 8 Exposures
Fadeless Prints
• Postage Paid •
DIXIE FILM SERVICE
P. O. Box 4385-A Atlanta, Go.
25^
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 pricee under cover.
It is safe to buy of the mer
chant who ADVERTISES.