Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

Friday, December 26, 1947 ? A VERY MERRY Cluistmas TO EYEH®OF OUR © MANY FHIENOS IN THIS AREA. ® AND A MOST SINEERE THANKS FOR ALL EONSIDERATIONS AND FAVORS. ® MAY THE SEASON i « Si n i « ■ s 1 I n $ A A Si HOLD UNTOLD ^ FOR ALL HAPPINESS 1 AS GRCCWK Spotts Grocery 1251 Hunt St. Phone 428 | A » MAY ALL TEEL JOYS OF T^IIS CHEERY SEASON RE YOURS! r This Greeting is sent to you os on expresron of oppreciotion for your friendly potronaeje and * with the hope that you may enjoy a holiday season of joy and contentment, and a New Year of happiness. '•M .etty <=J- y\}ew cut 0. C. PHILLIPS, Memorials On the Cut-off , REUMIOM AT CEinZSTMAS By HELEN PETRONE J ANET opened the door to her apartment, thinking as she did so that it had been only a week since Craig and she had shared this apart ment they called their “ivory tow er." named that because ol its odd shape. It had been a storage room until the housing shortage became prevalent Then old Mrs. Root, feel ing sympathetic toward the plight of Janet and Craig Norris, newly mar ried and homeless, had cleared it out. partitioned it off into two small rooms and rented it to them. That was just 13 months ago, Janet remembered, dropping her gloves on the table and lighting the lamp with the same gesture. They had been married only three weeks, just long enough to realize they were impos ing on Craig’s family who were cramped for quarters themselves. Just a week ago they had the quarrel that had sent Craig from the apartment. It had been a blow MtkMddiftSdtkMiMtkkMdift "She sat down at the window and looked out at the dark, starless sky." to his pride from the day of their wedding that Janet should continue working. She enjoyed her position , in the advertising firm where she had risen from a clerk to copy writer in just two years. Since she left the house after Craig In the morning and returned before him at night, she never felt her working in terfered in any way with her house hold duties. But friends had spoiled everything with their snide remarks about “poor Janet still working.” and it was more than Craig could bear. “They think I can’t support you!” he’d storm at her, but the more he pleaded the more adamant she had become. And now he was gone. The whole thing seemed so un important now. She glanced at the telephone, half-inclined to call him home, but her own recalcitrant na ture refused to allow such a move. She turned on the radio instead and pretended the tears that welled in her eyes at the strains of “Silent Night” were merely tears of weari ness after the preparation of the office party that morning. Delib erately she opened the dresser draw er to put away last night's ironing Her souvenir box loomed temptingly before her. Lifting the cover, she stared at the items she had collect ed: Craig’s class ring, exchanged for a diamond after their gradua tion from college; a pressed orchid, one of those she had carried at het wedding; various cards, Christmas, anniversary, birthday, valentine She picked up a small gift card and read again, “To my dear wife, Janet, or our first Christmas.” It was the card with the watch he had giver her last year. T rembling, she closed the box and turned quickly from the dresser. She had been a fool, she decided. Without Craig, Christmat could never hold the same meaning for her as it once had. She didn'l stop to lock the door for there was nothing of value anyone could steal from her. Even her $100 Christmas bonus lying on the table went un noticed. The one thing she must nol lose was happiness, and that was nc longer in her home with Craig gone. She hurried into her coat as she started breathlessly down the 3H flights of stairs. Tears coursed dowr her cheeks and she prayed with fan atic zest that she was not too late As she reached the last flight o: stairs, she crashed into a figun who was hurrying up, as oblivious o; his surroundings as she. She gasped at the impact, but the man quick ly regained his balance and caugh her before she could fall. “Janet!” he cried. She looked at him almost in dis belief. Then, throwing her armi about him she gave full vent to hei tears. “Oh, Craig! Darling, I wai just coming for you." He kissed her and held her tight ly. “Janet, I’ve been such a fool I didn’t realize until tonight what at awful thing pride can be. Will yot ever forgive me?" She sighed. “There’s nothing t< forgive, Craig. I was the one wh< was wrong. I’m going to quit mj job right away ” "No. you mustn’t. I don’t want t( deprive you of any happiness an< if you wont to work. I’m not goinj to stop you.” She laughed shakily. “We’ll ar gue that out later, shall we?” Arm in arm they climbed up thi stairs. By LYN CONNELLY T HE sharp wind lashed furiously about Larry’s head and shoul ders. flirting momentarily with the idea of sending his brown fedora spiraling down the street, but he sensed its capricious tendencies and held the brim of his hat lightly be tween his forefinger and thumb as he ran toward his car parked on the opposite corner. It would be the last time he’d beat that particular path, he thought grimly It was Christmas Eve and everybody was in a gay and antici patory mood. Everybody, that is, except Larry. He had been reason ably happy until that morning when the whole world seemed to have crashed about him. Opening the door of the car. he slid in behind the wheel and started it toward home. The face of Silas Henning, until fifteen minutes ago his boss, came to his mind and again he heard the words that he dreaded to repeat to Rosine: "I know you’re not happy In your work, Larry, and it’s not fair to either one of us when you don’t put your best efforts into what you’re doing. I think, therefore, that you’d better go elsewhere for a Job. Today’s as good a day as any to sever connections.” Fired on Christmas Evel Of course, what Henning had said was true. Larry wasn’t happy being a bookkeeper at Morrison’s appliance shop. He had always yearned to be a writer, and wrote numerous short stories during his spare time. When Rosine told him of their ex pected second child he had taken the job at Morrison’s through sheer desperation. No longer could they live on their savings. He considered the job as temporary, but it had He picked up the letter at the same time she answered, “Truth magazine.” lasted seven months with still no prospects of entering the field he desired. Henning had seemed sym pathetic, although he had cooled suddenly the past week. Perhaps in his daydreaming he had been inac curate in his figures. At least Hen ning spared him any embarrassment if that were the case, but he could have waited until after the holidays to fire him. “And Bob Cratchit thought he worked for Scrooge,” he mumbled, pulling up before his house. H IS feet dragged as he trudged toward the door. He mustn’t tell her tonight, he decided. He hoped he was capable of carrying off an act until the day after Christmas. Open ing the door, he let himself in as unobtrusively as possible. Rosine was on a step ladder in the living room, decorating the tree, while Chuckie, aged five, sat on the floor, agog at the proceedings. “Hello, darling,” his wife called out gaily. He tried to equal the hap piness in her voice as he replied, then kissed Chuckie and started for the kitchen. •There’s a letter for you on the radio,” Rosine said. “From whom?" His heart leaped hopefully at her words and he hur ried toward the radio. He picked up the letter at Uie same time she an swered, “Truth magazine.” It was from Truth. His hand trem bled as he opened it. “Dear Mr. Shannon," he read aloud. “Our mu tual friend. Silas Henning, recently submitted one of your articles for our consideration. We believe It shows promise and since we were given a splendid recommendation by Mr. Henning, we are writing to ask if you would be interested in a job in our editorial department. If so, call for an interview this week.” The telephone was ringing, but for a moment, Larry and Rosine merely stood as though mute, star ing at each other. Larry became conscious of the bell first and picked up the receiver. It was Mr. Hen ning, laughing heartily. “Bet I had you worried, eh, Larry?” “Mr. Henning! I didn’t know . . . how did you. . .” Larry was tongue-tied. Rosine walked to his side, putting one arm gently about his shoulder. “I found that article you wrote on your son and the atomic age and sent it in to Asherton,” Henning ex plained. “He’s a good friend of mine and editor of Truth. Well. I won’t hold you, Larry. Just wanted to wish yon a merry Christmas. “Merrj Christmas, Mr. Hen ning,” Larry said as the telephone clicked at the other end “Merry Christmas—and thanks for the best one I've ever had.” 9 at^ku ol UieJjeaA P lU hf\ -J Q □ □ The Christmas season, with all its pleasant traditions, reminds us qgain of the cordiality and good fellowship that has been ours to enjoy with our legion of friends. Good friends and Christmas combine to make this time of the year the most glorious occasion of them all. As we extend our best wishes to you, we include our heartfelt thanks for your fine cooperation with us during the past year. Newberry Auto Supply American Legion Post 24 wmMuaaadaaaaaaaamMaajajiimiiMifcMiWUiMJiaati