The Paducah Post (Paducah, Tex.), Vol. 37, No. 27, Ed. 1 Friday, October 15, 1943 Page: 6 of 8
This newspaper is part of the collection entitled: The Paducah Area Newspaper Collection and was provided to The Portal to Texas History by the Bicentennial City County Library.
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Page Six
The Paducah Post
Friday, October 15, 1943
V/S TODAY
Zh* JOSEPH SHE LAWRENCE
CHAPTER II
Sarah Daffodil acts in every
■capacity for the four-family
house in Garset after her hus-
band’s death. In February,
1941, 23 - year - old Andrew
Thane and Candace Moore,
who plan to be married the
following week, inquire about
the Merdin’s apartment adver-
tised in the morning paper.
Sarah realizes that it may not
be wise to rent to a couple, of
youngsters with the selective
training law “hanging over the
boy’s head,” but their youthful
charm wins her over.
“You’re Andrew Thane, aren’t
you? I guess you don’t know me,
but I’m a neighbor of yours—
King Waters. We live in the
same house—my wife and I are
directly under you, on the second
floor.”
They shook hands gravely.
His wife, King promised, would
be up to call on Mrs. Thane be-
fore long. “She wanted to let
her have time to get settled. I’ve
gone down with you on the same
bus two or three mornings, but
there was always a crowd and I
had no chance to speak to you.”
Andrew Thane read the first
paragraph of baseball comment,
then forced himself to mumble
conversationally. “Pretty fair ser-
vice on this line.” |
Transportation was temporarily!
speeded up, King assured him,
because of the approaching
Spring elections. “But the ser-
vice we’re getting- now will seem
de luxe, compared with what
we’ll be getting once we’re in
the war.”
That night King Waters men-
tioned to his wife that he had
spoken to young Thane in the
bus. “When are you going up to
call on Mrs. Thane?”
“Oh, sometime. Why?”
He had thought she might be
able to dispose of a couple of
tickets for the Legion’s fair and
bazaar, Waters suggested. “You
know I got to get rid of sixty.”
His wife said that he had only
himself to thank for that. “You
always were one to bite off more
than you could chew'.” Her cro-
chet hook flashed swiftly.
“Made up your mind about
giving the committee one of your
spreads? Haven’t you got one
with a mistake in it, a dropped
stitch or something?”
“Every one of my spreads is
perfect and you know it.”
Her husband took his unlighted
cigar from his mouth, examined
it with apparent interest, replac-
ed it still unlighted. “Emma?”
“Well, wThat?”
“When do you think you’ll get
up to see Mrs. Thane?”
“My good heavens, how do I
know? She isn’t home during the
day and I’ve got something bet-
ter to do with my evenings than
running around calling on women
who don’t take enough interest
in their homes to stay there. I
suppose, though, I won’t have
any peace until I go to see her
and try to sell her a couple of
tickets.”
Waters said, reproachful pa-
tience heavy on his tongue, “Fun-
ny how you feel about doing any-
thing for the Legion. Here I was
willing to give my life in the last
war and you—and a lot of dames
like you—stall when you’re asked
to help fellow's who need help
now.”
IBS' j£|
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‘The news from across the pond isn’t getting any better.”
His wife turned the radio dial
and an impassioned tenor voice
besought listeners-in to sample
the merits of a new dessert. Em-
ma Waters said coldly, “I don’t
belive you were so crazy about
the war until you found yourself
safely out of it.”
“Is that so? Maybe I wasn’t
crazy about the war, but I was
ready to do my duty. Not like
that young fellow' upstairs who
is apparently all set to claim ex-
emption. It’s a disgrace, the way
marriage applications have jump-
ed since selective training went
into effect. Falling over each
other at the City Hall, to get a
marriage license so they can hide
behind some woman’s skirts.”
“You were drafted.” Emma
Waters crocheted a chain of stars
at top speed.
“Well, what’s that got to do
with it? I did what was asked of
me and I stand ready to do it
again. If we go into this a sec-
ond time, I’m going to see what
I can do about getting a com-
mission.”
His wife shrugged her narrow-
shoulders. An airplane, flying
low, droned over the house and
the noise seemed to partake of
motion—like a ' shudder. “There’s
a good chance Mrs. Thane will
stop in here tonight,” Emma
Waters said.
They had made each other’s
acquaintance in the neighbor-
hood cash grocery, she revealed
in response to her husband’s
curious prodding.
“But w-hy’s she coming here?”
“I asked her. I can’t get Pearl
for any day but Thursday next
week and I want to see if Mrs.
Thane will exchange garden days
with me. She said her husband
studies nights, so I thought it
would be better to have her come
down than for me to go up.”
She might have said something
about it, Waters grumbled, pull-
ing down his vest and jerking his
tie straight. The door button
buzzed and he hurried to answer
it. Candace Thane, ushered pon-
derously into the living room,
looked like a doll in contrast
with the thick outlines of her
host. The girl had to thread her
way through an eddy of low ta-
bles and chairs, to reach Mrs.
Waters’ limp, extended hand.
“Nice of you to come. King,
get a chair—not that one, some-
thing lower. I guess you don’t
know my husband, Mrs. Thane.”
“Only by sight.” Candace smil-
ed. “My husband and Mr. Waters
are fellow bus commuters.”
“What I wanted to ask you,”
said • Emma Waters, “is whether
you’d be whiling to let me have
the laundry and yard this Thurs-
day.” Her laundress, she explain-
ed, usually came Wednesday but
this week had served notice that
her home affairs required her
attention that day.
Wednesday was as convenient
as any other day for her, Can-
dace submitted cheerfully. “Wd
send out the big things every
other week and I can do our
small laundry almost any time.
If Mrs. Daffodil doesn’t care—”
“Laws, she never interferes
with the tenants’ arrangements.
It’ll be only for this - week and
thanks a lot, Mrs. Thane. King,
aren’t you ever going to settle
down?”
King Waters .said, “I’m on my
way out. You folks like it here,
Mrs. Thane? Beginning to feel
settled?”
“It’s lovely.” The girl’s bright
serenity suddenly sparkled.
“We’re crazy about the apart-
ment and we’re looking forward
to the Summer when that grand
big lawn out back will be green.”
Her host chewed reflectively
on his frayed cigar. “Can’t look
very far ahead, I’m afraid. A lot
of things can happen between
now and next Summer.”
She looked at him intently, the
glow in her large eyes faded.
“I’m afraid most of you young
people are going to come face to
face with reality before many
months are over. The newTs from
across the pond isn’t getting any
better, you know.”
“Andy won’t claim exemption.”
Candace spoke gently, her smooth
forehead unruffled.
“I don’t suppose you and Mr.
Thane would be interested in a
couple of tickets for the Ameri-
can Legion bazaar and fair? Lots
of prizes and a bang-up supper,
Friday and Saturday nights next
week. My wife’s talking of do-
nating one of the fancy spreads
she makes to be raffled off.” He
held up two orange-colored slips.
“Proceeds go to help the dis-
abled veterans at the Memorial
Hospital.”
They couldn’t go, their week-
ends were always planned ahead,
Candace regretfully declined. She
would; however, take the two
tickets. “We’re always glad to do
what we can for the disabled vet-
erans, Mr. Waters. I can dispose
of more tickets, if you’d like me
to—I can sell them to friends at
the office.”
“H-ow many tickets you think
you can sell—at seventy-five
apiece? A 'dozen—swell!” She
Do You Have Someone In The
Service?
A Son-Brother-Husband
Sweetheart?
Then Send Him
His Home-Town
Newspaper For
Christmas!
•
Just Like Receiving a Gift
Every Week for 52 Weeks!
HE WILL ENJOY READING
THE PADUCAH POST
was, he told her, a swell person
and an example others might
well follow. “People would com-
pletely forget those boys in the
hospital, if we didn’t prod them.”
& He ,,
“I wish I knew where' I could
get a woman with a car,” said
Toni Fitts into the telephone.
She and her husband occupied
2-B, across the hall from the
Waters, but the two families
could not be called neighborly.
Toni possessed a nervous, driving
energy that found expression in
a dozen channels and kept her
constantly and actively occupied.
She was a thin, tall woman with
a hard, bright manner and a will
to power that netted her chair-
manships almost automatically.
Efficiency was her fetish and
everything about her, from her
severely tailored gray flannels
to her chromium-colored hair, cut
short and swept back from ber
face in sharply carved rolls that
looked as inflexible as glass, sug-
gested mechanical pex-fection.
Well, I have someone in mind.”
She appeared to clip off each
word she uttered and to let it
drop into the phone like a metal
bead. “No, she hasn’t a car—at
least so far as I know. But
clerical training. Makes a nice
impression. Yes. Call me back at
this time tomorrow morning and
I’ll let you know.”
She replaced the handset and
glanced speculatively across the
breakfast table at her husband,
who was watching the coffee per-
colator. Toni boasted that she
planned her day while breakfast-
ing and certainly the table repre-
sented a fusion, of interests with
nutrition coming out a poor sec-
ond. The telephone, several
leather-bound engagement books,
two calendars and a number of
memorandum pads with attached
pencils fenced in Toni’s place.
Bert Fitts, a grizzled, placid
gentleman of perhaps 55 or 60
who had no figure to lose, deftly
spread thick apricot preserve on
a fresh slice of toast and geni-
ally inquired, “Well, what’s
cooking?”
“This is a terrific week for
me,” his wife informed him.
Her husband pointed to the
percolator. “Throw out that cold
slop and have a hot cup.”
“No more. That reminds, me I
must call up Bess about the nu-
trition classes. And I’m down for
two speeches on ‘Preparedness’
this week and I’ve pledged a day
to the British workrooms.”
The placid man pouring coffee
did., not raise his voice as he said
casually, “Women like you have
colossal nerve to advocate this
country’s entrance into the war.”'
“Well, I’d like to- know what
you mean by that! Women are
citizens, aren’t they? We have a
right to an opinion, haven’t we?
Look at the time and money and
effort we give to alleviate the
suffering caused by this war. I’d
like to know why we shouldn’t
advocate anything we happen to
believe in!” She lifted the hand-
set as the telephone rang and a
high-pitched voice began to chat-
ter rapidly over the wire.
“I don’t precisely advocate our
entrance into the war,” she said
now, pushing the phone back. “I
think we ought to help Britain
in every way and if she needs
our men, why then—”
Her husband was silent.
“It’s the women who have to
uphold a nation’s ideals,” Toni
recited. “You admit that, don’t
you?”
“I don’t know what you’re up-
holding and I doubt whether you
do,” he told her, replacing the
cover on the jam jar. “Women
whose men will be in service—
like that girl on the top floor—
have some • right to argue, per-
haps, though I’m not at all sure.
After all, it’s the men of military
age who should do the talking—
they’ll be staking their lives,
Amelia.”
His wife frowned. She had been
christened Amelia. She began to
gather up her books and pencils.
“I must get upstairs to call on
that Mrs. Thane. She may be glad
to do a little work for us—Mrs.
Waters told me she holds some
kind of clerical position.”
Foptseps sounded in the kitch-
en, the dopr clicked. “Morning,
Miz Fitts,” Belle, the cleaning
woman, called cheerfully.
Toni Fitts encountered old Mrs.
Peppercorn in the hall that eve-
ning as she prepared to mount
the stairs to the third floor. Stair
climbing afforded an excellent
opportunity to slim the calves and
thighs, the beauty parlor instruc-
tor had informed her, so that
when Mrs. Peppercorn had reach-
ed the second landing on her way
to the street, the old lady was a
little alarmed to see a tall, thin
woman balancing herself on one
leg with her other knee pressed
against her chest.
“Oh — good evening.” Toni
Fitts resumed her normal stance.
“I’m on ray way up to see your
new neighbors. I don’t suppose
you know whether the Thanes are
home, Mrs. Peppercorn?”
(TO BE CONTINUED)
Walter Hagen, golf pro, had
his gas ration books suspended
for speeding. Oh, well, he does
his best driving outside of his
auto.
CARE FOR YOUR CAR—
FOR YOUR COUNTRY
ROUND-THE-CLOCK AIR RAIDS over
Germany and South Pacific s 5 Every
time you read this headline in your news-
paper, remember that United Nations
war planes are vastly improved war
weapons because their tanks are filled
with 100 octane gasoline from the
United States.
To say that this super-fuel is equiva-
lent to a fifth engine in every four-
engine bomber is actually understating
the facts! Compared with German avia-
tion fuel of 87 octane, it improves
performance more than 25 per cent.
Long peacetime research for new and
better things from petroleum gases, as
well as from petroleum, prepared
Phillips for an important role in war-
time production. Phillips Petroleum
Company was among the first to take
100 octane gasoline... as well as buta-
diene for synthetic rubber . . . out of
the laboratory and into mass production.
Twenty-four hours a day, our best
- efforts are devoted to the production of
these and other synthetic chemicals
which will bring closer that great day
when once again you can say "Fill 'er
up”. . . and the service man will crank
into your tank a new and improved
Phillips gasoline.
Until then, every time you see the
Phillips 66 Shield, let it remind you that
Phillips refineries in addition to pro-
ducing gasolines, lubricants, fuel oils,
are also gigantic chemical plants pouring
out weapons for victory.
Phillips Petroleum Co., Bartlesville, Okla.
SKUNK COOLS OFF BUS
LYNCHBURG,' Va.—The man-
agement of a Lynchburg bus line
had to let one of its vehicles re-
main out of operation for several
days to “cool off.” Patrons re-
fused to ride in the bus after it
had a collision—with a skunk.
T*ry Post Want Ads. They Get
Results.-
Cook plenty of beets. Pickle
those you don’t use at the first
serving, or try them in salads.
Dice them for tossed vegetable
salads, or combine chopped beets
with, chopped hard-boiled egg.
BARREL
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it,;'4;;* J- !
l<U fe A > -!
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jLiARLY in the war the electric
industry received this challenge from
the War Production Board, Produc-
tion division.
"You’ll have to produce fantastic
quantities of electric pouter to keep
the nation’s war production going
up and up. It’ll be tough—because
the copper and turbines and machin-
ery you need won’t be easy to get.
YOU’LL BE ASKED TO SCRAPE
THE BOTTOM OF THE BARREL
TO HAUL OUT MORE KILO-
WATTS!”
Fortunately, we had built the barrel
big___Big enough to keep produc-
tion lines roaring! Big enough to
meet all the power needs of factories
and training camps—and still supply
your home without rationing—at
bargain prices!
Back the Attack!
Buy an Extra $100 Bond!
yL;7 :v:
iiiifev:£: vx
m
Today, America is producing five
times more electric power than it did
in the last war—outproducing all of
the Axis countries combined!
Was it luck that we built the barrel
BIG? No, the electric companies
under business management—which
supply over 80 per cent of the nation’s
power—have developed the habit of
planning ahead. That private enter-
prise habit has helped us to give you
friendly dependable service—and it
has enabled us to meet the challenge
of America-at-war!
VtestTexas Utilities
Company
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The Paducah Post (Paducah, Tex.), Vol. 37, No. 27, Ed. 1 Friday, October 15, 1943, newspaper, October 15, 1943; Paducah, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth1014780/m1/6/?q=%22%22~1: accessed August 15, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu.; crediting Bicentennial City County Library.