The sun. [volume] (Newberry, S.C.) 1937-1972, December 26, 1947, Image 7
Friday, December 26, 1947
THE NEWBERRY SUN
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TOTHS
WOULD
Amid the fine fellowship of Christmas
time, when the atmosphere of good
feeling toward everyone predominates,
we recall many instances of your proven
friendships.
It is in remembrance of these courtesies
that we take this means of saying to
one and all, “MERRY CHRISTMAS
AND HAPPY NEW YEAR."
If we can be of service to you in the
future, please call on us, as we deem it
a pleasure to serve the people of this
community in any way we can. We are
proud to be associated with the kind of
people who make their homes here and
look forward to spending many, many
more happy years with you, whom we are
proud to call our friends.
Odorless Cleaners
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May this Holiday bring
you the utmost of joy
and may the New Year
bring with it every suc
cess as a reward for your
effort. , *
We are looking forward
to serving you during the
coming year and trust
that our service will
prove satisfactory to you
in every way.
, < V
. T' • ’ ’ • •
MeWup Glvtiitm&l . . . Netu f l/easi
Newberry Lumber Co.
By HELYN CONNELLY
B ETTY JANE threw her purse at
a chair and sat down heavily on
the bed.
She wore her father’s shirt and
her brother’s blue jeans, a costume
she adopted a year before with
Woody Anderson’s permission.
“What’s the matter, dear?” She
jumped as the words cut the si
lence. but she didn’t turn. She didn’t
want her mother to know anything
was amiss—not yet, anyway And
then suddenly the tears came, like
angry flood waters bursting through
a barrier, unable to be restrained
any longer.
Mrs. Miller was careful to keep a
straight face as she wiped her
16-year-old daughter's face with her
handkerchief. “Why, dear? Did
Lance upset you?”
Betty Jane shook her head vehe
mently. Why did mother always
think her brother was to blame for
“Gosh, you look wonderful like
this!”
her tears? Grown women never
cried over their brothers! "It’s what
Lance saw, not what he did,” Betty
said in a burst of confidence. As
her mother waited she continued
wretchedly. “He saw Woody buy
ing a bottle of cologne. Cologne,
mother, imagine! He was so glib
when he told me I looked cute in
jeans and now he’s two-timing me
with some fluffy female who actually
uses cologne! Oh, how can men be
so beastly?”
“Darling, how do you know the
cologne isn’t for you? Maybe Woody
thinks you’ve outgrown your, jeans.”
"He knows what I think of these
pink and white girls who use that
horrible concoction! He wouldn’t
dare get me any. And besides, I al
ready told him I wanted roller skates
for Christmas. ... I have to be
ready for the new rink that’s open
ing next month, don’t I? I though’
Woody and I would be going togeth
er, but now that's all over.” She
threw her arms around her mother
and cried tragically, "Oh, mother.
I’ll never smile again! I definitely
won’t.”
This time Mrs. Miller smiled over
her daughter’s head. She well rec
ognized the stage Betty Jane was
going through and decided she must
take a hand. “Yi u’re sure the co
logne wouldn’t be for a sister or a
cousin?”
“He hasn’t a female in the family,
and his mother never uses it, so
who else could it possibly be for?
I’ll bet it’s for Estelle Bryan. All
the other fellows like her but Woody
used to say she was too fragile. Oh,
mother, how he’s deceived me!”
LJ ER mother arose. “Well, dry
your eyes, Betty, dear. It's
Christmas Eve and you want to be
happy today. Woody will probably
come over with your roller skates to
night and we’ll surprise him. If he
likes fragile girls, he’ll get one.”
Betty Jane sat up straight.
“Mother, no! Not that horrible blue
dress you bought me!
“You wash up and put that dress
on, Betty.
“We’ll wait tor you downstairs.”
With that. Mrs. Miller closed the
door on her tomboy daughter and
hurried downstairs. As she reached
the bottom step the doorbell rang
and she admitted Woody Anderson,
a lanky boy with unruly red hair
and freckles marching in perfect for
mation over the bridge of his nose.
He was clutching a box, obviously
containing the roller skates request
ed by Betty Jane.
"She'U be right down,” Mrs. Mill
er informed him, then left him alone
for the surprise.
It came a half-hour later when
Betty Jane made her appearance.
The blue dress looked even better
than she had hoped it would.
“Gosh, Betty Jane!” Woody con
tributed to the conversation. The
smile broadened. “For me.
Woody?” she asked, nodding toward
the box. “Is it cologne? Lance saw
you buying some.” So casual, sc
indifferent.
“Uh—gosh, no. Betty Jane. Gee,
you asked for skates and I got them
for you. I bought cologne for Miss
Lindsay, the English teacher that
helped me with my essay for that
contest.”
"How sweet of you.” She stepped
down into the living room and ac
cepted the box from Woody. “Thank
you,” she said gravely. “Yours
is under the tree.”
“Gee, I didn't think I’d ever like
you drt-,,ed up as a girl, Betty,”
he gulped. “Estelle looked so awful
and 1 was proud to have you rur
around with me in blue jeans, but,
gosh, you look wonderful like this!"
By DANIEL F LINDSAY
’ I v OM LARKIN opened the kitchen
* door. His wife looked up with a
hopeful smile as he entered. He just
shook his head.
“No mail at all?” she said as she
went on fixing dinner.
“Oh, there were a couple of ads
and a bill from the seed company."
He hung his hat on a hook and
crossed to the pump. His white
hair was damp around his face when
he straightened up again.
“It’s just not like Bill,” she sighed.
“Bill’s got an unforgivin’ streak,
always did have, even when he was
a little feller.” Pa's old briar gave
off a pungent odor as he lit it.
“But this is different, Tom,” she
said, putting a pan of biscuits in
the oven, "tomorrow is Christmas.
It’s a long way to the coast Maybe
he wrote but didn’t mail it in time.”
"Ma,” his tired old voice was
filled with bitterness, “there’s no
“She could see Pa striding into
the living room.”
need to stick pins in yourself by
hopin’. Christmas or no Christmas
. . . that boy is still mad.”
The old lady’s eyes shone with
faith. “He might stay mad all
year long but when Christmas comes
. . . he’ll write. I know. I'm his
Ma.”
“Don’t forget,” Tom said as he
blew smoke at the ceiling. His
eyes crinkled at the corners, “I'm
his father.”
"Dinner’s ready. Pa,” she said,
filled with a deep longing and fought
to keep the tears out of her voice
“I c’n understand that boy still
bein’ mad at me, but why does he
have to take it out on you?”
“You’re wrong. Tom,” Ma replied
as she lifted her head and smiled
“The day after Christmas, first de
livery, we’ll get a letter. You'll
see.”
"Not from him,” he shook his
head grimly.
“You're forgettin’ Judy.” she re
minded him as they sat down. “She's
a good daughter-in-law."
“Oh, I’m not blamin’ her,” reply
ing as he covered his biscuits with
gravy, "Judy’s a fine girl. It's his
bull headed pride."
She got up and taking the coffee
pot off the cook stove filled his cup.
They ate on in silence. Finally he
pushed his plate back.
“You aren’t eatin’ much,” he
scolded.
“I’m just not hungry, Pa.”
"I see,” he stood up. “I’m goin’
out and turn the heater on in the
hen house. It’ll be cold tonight.”
His old shoulders slumped forward
as he went outside. She shook her
head and started picking up the
dishes. Her mind sank back into
the past. To the days when Christ
mas was alive with the excitement
and laughter of young voices. She
could see Pa striding into the liv
ing room bearing a large evergreen
on his shoulder. Behind him there
was always a highly excited little
boy. bearing an axe. She wondered
if the little boy ever thought of it.
OA CAME back on the porch. She
* smiled as he kicked his toe against
the threshold. It’s a wonder, she
thought, that there’s any threshold
left after all these years. He came
Into the kitchen, dumping an arm
load of kindling in the box behind
the range.
“Snowin’, Pa?”
He shook his head and took off
his wraps, replying, “Stopped.”
She hung the dish towels up to
dry. He pulled a rocker in from the
living room and sat down.
“Everything all right in the
barn?" Ma asked as she threw a
few lumps of coal in the fire.
“Sure,” Pa said. A sad smile
crossed his lips, "What’s the use
pretendin’, Ma? We’re both feelin’
blue.”
She sat down at the old kitchen ta
ble and started peeling apples, ut
tered, "I know it.”
“Gonna bake me a pie?” he asked
She nodded. “Apple was always
Billy’s favorite, too.”
“Now, Ma, what's the use of .,”
he stopped as they heard a car
drive up in the yard. “Must be Jim
Rogers. Said today that new calf
of his was sick.” He opened the
kitchen door and peered out into the
night. She could hear him catch his
breath as he watched a man and
a woman get out. "Ma, who do you
think?” his voice was low.
“I knew,” Ma laughed as she laid
the paring knife down with a hap
py smile, “I knew it all the time.”
% greet You
■ • : v v ^.'W l, ■ '■ / v.'
and to Wish You 7
gFOY HAPPIME)^
FOR CHRISTMAS
and During
TUP MPW TEAR
Chapman Lumber Co.
AYll
IASI
FOA V A
All of us look forward to the gaiety and cheerfulness
of Christmas. Sparkling Christmas candles, gaily deco
rated gifts, the fresh fragrance of evergreen, the eager
anticipation of youngsters waiting for old Saint Nicholas,
the wholesome atmosphere of goodwill, the associations
of good friends and loved ones, all blend to make Christ-
*
mas a season of extreme happiness and contentment.
May it last forever—our Christmas wish for you.
J. Dave Caldwell