The sun. [volume] (Newberry, S.C.) 1937-1972, December 25, 1942, Image 12
FRIDAY, DECEMBER 26, 1942
THE NEWBERRY SUN
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inminm
Li
To You, One and All ! !
Ll
’C'xpressing our appreciation of your
courtesies of the past year and
extending the compliments of the
season, we wish you a Season of hap
piness, goodwill and contentment.
Whatever the New Year holds for all
of us, may it see the realization of
your every ambition.
Newberry Beauty Shop
Miss Ruby Kinard Mrs. Olgie Shealy Mrs. Mary Ella Lominick
AND A NOTE TO SANTA—
We know you are busy—so’s everybody
else. We just want to remind you that here in
this community are the finest folks in the
world, and we are hoping that you will remem
ber them well in your Christmas Eve travels.
Our friends here are deserving of all good
things. Please don’t forget theml
HAYES MOTOR CO.
THE joys
OF
COBISTOIOS
Are enhanced by the
thoughts of the splendid
associations which have
been ours in the past. It
reminds us of the loyalty
of our hosts of friends in
the area. We wish you a
Merry Christmas.
J. RAY DAWKINS, County Treasurer
A Christmas
Carol.
By DOUGLAS WHITNEY
This, friends, is a Christmas story
Chough stories of kindliness shouldn’t
only bob up with Kris Kringle. Our
tale is concerned wth Robert Parker.
If you don’t remember him, ask
some of the older folks. Parker was
once one of the leading character
actors of the legitimate stage. For
years he trouped the hinterlands
in support of the great names.
The week before Christmas al
ways found Parker in New York at
the center table of the Leopards
club, the noted actors’ organzation.
The room was always well filled the
week before Christmas. It is a tra
dition in show business that the
weeks preceding Christmas and
Easter are the worst in tlhe theater.
Born of extremely poor parents,
Parker had never forgotten the mis
eries of poverty. Each year it had
been his custom to arrange a vari
ety show, using the talent of the
Leopards, club. The money realzed
went toward thr p,. .'dhase of food
baskets which were distributed ev
ery Christmas day from the lobby
of the clubhouse. ,
When there was snow, instead of
the carriage he would use a sleigh
and, like Santa, set out on his an
nual round. It took a great deal of
money, but as a result, Bob was
beloved by everyone.
Bob grew older, and hs stage en
gagements became fewer.
One day, at the club meeting Bob
stood up and addressed the mem
bers: “Gentlemen, I’m getting old.
It’s time for me to put away my
grease paint and costumes, and re
tire. Before doing so I want to ex
tract a promise from the general
membership. I ask that you gen
tlemen continue to run the annual
Christmas basket benefit for the
poor. I cannot assume the task any
longer. Will you do this for me?”
Actors are a sentimental and gen
erous lot. They promised Bob that
the tradition would be faithfully
maintained, and honored him further
by voting him a life member. And
so, retiring from the scene, his vis
its to the club became infrequent.
The baskets were forgotten.
A year ago, Bob came back to
the club a little before Christmas.
He looked much older, his shoulders
bent and his shock of white hair
noticeably thinned.
“Gentlemen,” he said on rising,
“this is probably tihe last time I
shall address this group. I am an
old man now. There is one favor
I wish to ask of you. As many of
you may recall, the distribution
of Christmas baskets was my hob
by and sole interest outside the
theater.”
His voice breaking, he continued:
“I wish to request you to give once
more your time and talents for a
benefit, the proceeds to go toward
the basket fund.”
Moved by the appeal of their old
master, the Leopards gathered all
their resources and achieved an un
usually successful response. Every
prominent actor and actress within
a day’s traveling distance ap
peared. The theater was jammed
to capacity. A large sum of money
was realized.
To Bob’s supreme delight it was
a white Christmas. Since he was
too old and feeble to sit again on
the driver’s seat and guide two
prancing horses, the club arranged
for the needy to come for their bas
kets. All day Bob attended to the
distribution.
He took the subway home. His
smile remained despite his weari
ness.
An hour later he was seated at a
small table in a plainly furnished
room. A tiny white-haired lady sat
opposite him. “Robert, will you
carve, please?” she requested with
marked deference.
“With pleasure, Mrs. Parker.
White meat?”
“Yes, if you please, Robert.”
“This is a wonderful occasion,”
fee said. “Were you embarrassed,
dear? I hated to do it, Mary. When
you came to the head of the line
and I handed you the basket, I was
afraid that some of the boys would
recognize you as my wife.”
He seemed a trifle perplexed.
“Strange I should have felt uncom
fortable about it,” fee mused. “Sure
ly two as poor as we deserve' a
Christmas basket, don’t you think?”
! w ★
; 'WUot you Ruy 'With
WAR RONDS
* ★_
A Flying Fortress is to America’s
air fleet what heavy artillery is to
the Army. This gigantic four-mo
tored bomber, equipped with heavy
cannon, carries about three tons of
bombs and reaches a speed of about
300 miles an hour.
These ships carry a crew of seven
to nine men, weigh about 22 , /4 tons,
have a wing spread of 105 feet and
each motor develops 1,000 horsepow
er. We need more of these “Fly
ing Fortresses” to compete with the
Nazi air force. You can help by in-
jvesting at least ten percent of your
' -uvom^Ja-Jt'iu. Hands ,qvetv JisyclaY-
Christmas In a 5 & 10
By "HELEN EDWARDS
Mary's feet throbbed. Her knees
wanted to buckle beneath the waigQit
of her slim young body. ,
“Fifteen minutes mors!”
She saw Mr. Adam*, the cross
looking floorwalker, frowning in her
direction and the hastened to tidy
her counter. Clerking in the five
and ten, she decided, wasn’t such a
bad job—except during the Christ
mas rush.
A shabbily dressed old woman
stood across the aisle looking wist
fully at a display of curly-haired
dolls on, Mary’s counter. The faded
blue eyes were making an effort
to read the price tag.
“May I help you, madam?” Mary
asked. The woman looked up guilt
ily, then her fingers fumbled nerv
ously at her shabby black purse.
“I—ah—I—no, I don’t guess so.”
The woman turned and almost ran
from the store. At the door, how
ever, she turned and slowly re
traced her steps to the counter.
“How much for that yellow-haired
doll, miss?”
“Twenty-nine cents. Shall I wrap
it in our gift pack? That will be
ten cents extra.”
‘‘N—no, I’ll come back later. Not
tonight, please.”
As Mary nodded her head the
woman’s shoulders seemed to sag
lower, and 3he trudged slowly to
ward the door.
Mary’s thoughts’ kept returning to
the wizened old lady as her tired
feet dragged through a long Wednes
day and a longer Thursday. As "she
left the store Thursday nigfet she
was almost happy, reflecting that
there would be but one moye day
of the Christmas rush.
A timid hand clutched at her arm.
Mary recognized her near-customer
of the preceding week, and smiled
encouragingly.
“That doll, miss—” she seemed
momentarily at a loss for words'—
“it—is it sold yet?”
“No, we have a few left. Do you
want me to save one for you?”
“If you could?”
Mary nodded and the woman hur
ried away.
Mary selected an especially nice
doll the n&xt morning and laid it
carefully beneath the counter. Then
she watched, between spurts of last
lady. At noon the doll still rested
minute shoppers, for the timid old
beneath tne counter. At six it was
still unclaimed. When Mary sold
her last remaining doll a few mo
ments before nine, she reached for
the hidden one.
“I'll give her a few minutes
more,” she decided. “If I put it
out it will go almost as soon as any
one sees it.”
At last she appeared, breathless
as if from running. She gazed along
the counter and stark despair was
written in every line of her face.
“Am I too late? Are they sold?”
“No, I saved one for you, mad
am.”
“How much did you say it would
cost?” The old woman was fum
bling in her purse while Mary
wrapped the doll. “Twenty-five
cents, wasn't it? I think I have
that much.”
Shaking fingers reached into the
shabby purse and fumbled into ev
ery crease and corner of its flat
interior. Two dimes and a penny
appeared, and then two more cop
pers. The woman’s face turned
white, and the fingers continued to
search frantically. Finally they re
appeared clutching two additional
copper coins.
“But,” Mary began, “it costs;—”
a picture of some tiny waif wait
ing for just such a doll flashed
through Mary’s mind. Mary turned
to the woman and held it out to her.
As she did so she saw Mr. Adams
bearing down upon her, his most
ferocious frown upon his face. Now
she was in for it! Maybe she would
be fired. And for four cents! Well,
it had been worth it,
“Will you say ‘Merry Christmas’
to the little one for me?” she whis
pered.
A muffled cough at her side told
her that Mr. Adams had arrived.
“I saw what you did, Mary,
and—”
“But, Mr. Adams, I intended to
repay the company from my own
purse.
“I know—I know. I’d have done
it myself if you hadn’t. Merry
Christmas, Mary.”
COTTON quiz
is COTTON THREAD
— ANS - When it TURNS TC
STOWE-'' A LARGE SPOOL
OS PETRIFIED COTTON TWINE
HAS BEEN FOUND IN A DITCH-
NEAR ROME. GA. EVERY THREAD !
IS STILL IN PLACE,-BUT THE
SOFT COTTON HAS CHAHGvt
ED TO BRITTLE STONE, (
Reagin’* Shoe Shop
Furman Reagin Robert Reagin
A/ap the JtitjAtl of 'IjauA
GhiiAimaA, be
lY+tdinuned . . ,
May they be even brighter than ever before
in reflecting "he true happinecc of the Yule-
tide Season. The remembrance of many favors
that have been ours in the past leads us each
year to look forward to the opportunity afford
ed by the Christmas Season to extend our gootL^
wishes to our good friends in this community.li.
In our woy of thinking these friends ore in- ^
valuable and furnish us with cheerful and
happy thoughts, particularly dur
ing times like the present. It is
refreshing to look back upon these
associations, and we eagerly look
forward to a continuance of them.
It makes for happier living and
strengthens our belief in mankind.
The Season's best to everyone.
GILDER & WEEKS