The Lampasas Daily Leader (Lampasas, Tex.), Vol. 35, No. 55, Ed. 1 Monday, May 9, 1938 Page: 3 of 4
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_________ _ _________''
STRAIT
SYNOPSIS
Visitors Viewing Toy-Siied Bekonscot
Wonderful Miniature Village of
^-4
Bekonscot Attracts Many Visitors
CHAPTER VIlI*
CHAPTER VU—Continued
Id
Shaking
ee
J
•‘You
cheek.
his
100I
hey
in its stern, out-datdd sailor hat.
mo-
grandmother I also like.*’
used to tease the ladybugs and
is the second largest in the history
of mankind. The record is held by
rtve-1 home Gunnar come:
pardon and Invite* her to fly.
increasing loveliness of the day.
“Queer! No presents from Great-
granny and Uncle Lynn!” .
COPYRIGHT D. APPLETON - CENTURY CO., INC
the skull of Turgenev, the Russian
novfljjst, with a brain capacity of
.2,030 cubic centimeters. The aver-
age skull capacity is about 1,450
centimeters for men and from 1,250
to 1,300 for women. Other mental
giants were Daniel Webster, with a
measurement of 2,000 cubic centi-
meters; Bismarck, with 1,965; Bee-
thoven, with 1,750; and Kant, with
1,740. On the other hand, Napoleon’s
brain weighed only 68.5 ounces aryl
Walt Whitman’s only 45.3, compared
with the 74 ounces registered by
Turgenev’s. It follows, therefore,
that sheer weight of brain is not
necessarily an index to high intel-
ligence. What counts more is ths
"bsrk” or cortex of gray matter
that sheaths the convolutions of the
cerebrsl hemispheres. The size of
the dead Aleut’s skull does not in
itself prove that he towered men-
tally above his fellows when he was
alive.
in motion. For their direction,
“Slow” signs have been located at
intersections, speed limits are dis-
played at intervals, and stop lights
blink atop pencil-thick posts.
Prominent in the outskirts of .town
is the hunt course, where small,
pink-coated horsemen in realistic
postures and accouterments ride to
hounds. The course, with its white
fences, lies in a lovely rural land-
scape bounded by a luxuriant shrub-
bery forest and rows of towering
evergreens that a flve-year-old can
hurdle in one stride.
The comfortable Grantley Arms,
with* hospitable innkeeper offering
hearty welcome to travelers de-
scending from a coach, recalls the
days of “Tom Jones.” Its red-tiled,
half-timbered elegance looms im-
pressively (to the low-held, eye)
above the wheel-rutted, hoof-pitted
courtyard, a place always crowded
with passengers, grooms, horses,
and curious-idlers.
Two.windmills and a water mill
commemorate old-time methods of
handling grain. Carved figures of
millers carrying bags supply human
touches to scenes of rustic charm.
granny’s splendid! She ran away
from home when she was fifteen
and joined an emigrant train and
came across the plains in a covered
wagon, and there were Indians and
hunger and "thirst and—" _________
They were running into Danavale.
“Ob, not my uncle’s house! I want
to go home, please. To the left."
It would be over in a moment and
there was a thing she must ask.
“I’ve been wondering. There isn’t
any fear, I know that, of course,
but when you’re flying alone, hour
after hour, do you ever think about
death?”
“Often," he told her readily.
“With great interest. But not with
—what is your word?—eagerment?”
She nodded; it seemed an excel-
lent word.
“This house?” The large, com-
placent dwelling of Edwin and
Adelaide Dana was all golden win-
dows. “Of depth: yes. An adven-
ture," Gunnar Thorwald said, stop-
ping the car. “Life is one adven-
ture; death is another. I wish you
the good-evening."
Sarah Lynn stepped out, and in-
stantly, without another word, he
was away.
Gunnar Thorwald drove Conrad
Jordan’s car swiftly back to the air-
port and found the Hormod put
away for the night and his friend
waiting for him outside the hangar.
"So,” the Norwegian ace said
gravely, “you are satisfied? I have
Human Head Swells in Literal and Not .
Metaphorical Sense as Owner Grows Older
- —1-----
Dr. Ales Hrdlicka, the curator of
physical anthropology at the Smith-
SOnian institution, has found that
the human head swells in a literal
and not a metaphorical sense as its
owner grows older, notes a writer in
the New York Sun. The theory is
supported by the testimony of Sir
Flinders Petrie, the eminent arche-
ologist ancrEgyptologist, who has
kept tab on his hat sizes through
the years. At twenty a size 6*4 hat
fitted him comfortably; at thirty he
required a 7 to 7%; with the passing
of another decade his hat size in-
creased by a quarter; at fifty an-
other quarter was added, and at
sixty his head had outgrown all
standard size hats. The Smithson-
ian considers this record as of more
than usual signiflpance “because of
the incessant and continued intel-
lectual work of the English archeol-
ogist."
In the Aleutian islands, off the
southern coast of Alaska. Dr. Hrd-
licka discovered a skull with a brain
capacity of 2,006 cubic centimeters.
This find aroused great interest be-
Sarah Lynn was twenty years old
cm the fifteenth of June. Her first
waking thought was, “Now I’m ex-
actly old enough to begin my flight
training!"
For months she had been saying,
"I’d like to fly," and "I want to
fly," and finally, "I’m going to fly!"
but without any deeper delving into
the proposition.
Sarah Lynn’s place at the break-
fast table was festive with flowers
and tissue-and-ribboned packages.
Her mother made much of birth-
days.
Her dark and difficult daughter
opened her gifts with grateful
warmth and ran to kiss and thank
her.
"I’m so glad they make you hap-
py, darling. But you haven’t looked
at the big box yet," she reminded
her archly.
It would be from Duncan Van Dor-
en, of course, from the smartest of
San Francisco florists. She lifted
away damp layers of glistening
green paper and registered authen-
tic appreciation. She touched lilies-
of-the-valley and forget-me-nots and
tiny pink rosebuds with her brown
finger-tips. “Duncan has perfect
taste."
"Ah, yes, hasn’t he?” her mother
said gratefully. "Will you arrange
them now, dear? The low green
bowls and the little crystal vases
for the lilies?"
“You fix them for me, Mother,
please! You do it so much better—
and Penny’s waiting. I promised
to walk with her.”
Mrs. Dana was wistfully cheery
about it, sure that a brisk walk
would do her child good. "But don’t
stay away too long, darling!” she
said with the look which meant her
sly. sweet hopes. "Happy plans for
the birthday.”
Sarah Lynn found the governess
They flew over the Santa Cruz
mountains, brown, green, compact
as if they had been carved out of
wood and painted.
They circled the water and turned
inland again, picking up the moun-
tains, Danavale, San Jose, the air-
port, like dropped stitches.
Sarah Lynn caught her breath.
QuickI Such heavenly quickness!"
He nodded. "I have named him
for Hermod, the swift one. You
know?"
"I know. Hermes—Mercury.”
“Yes. We go down, now.”
The west was darkening when
they swooped to earth with a suave
landing and rolled briskly to the
hangar.
The old attendant came limping
to open the door and help he? out.
Conrad Jordan was not in sight.
“He said would you come speak
to him in the ’phone booth,” the
man addressed Gunnar, and the
Norwegian ace followed him in.
The older flier stood with the re-
ceiver in his hand. "Hallo, Gun-
nar! Do you mind? I’m waiting for
this Glendale connection. Wilirjypu
run Miss Dana home for me?’’*.
"Please don’t trouble," she Said
quickly. "They will send a car for
me." But Gunnar was already step-
ping toward the roadster and she
followed him.
He drove a car as smoothly as a
plane. They had ticked off a twi-
light mile before he spoke. “You
have no fear."
“No.”
Conrad Jordan observed him with
satisfaction. “That lad will never
smash up through is own careless-
ness,” he nodded. He amplified it
for her—“Most of the crashes oc-
cur on the ground.”
"I see," Sarah Lynn'said quickly;
He considered her shrewdly. "I
believe you do." .They were step-
ping nearer to the plane and he
said above the roaf,~“Yuu can get
aboard--new^-JIa—took—hcx elk2£
in a firm hand and helped her into
the cabin.
She sat down quickly in the rear
seat, fastening the belt about her
waist, calmly folding her hands in
her lap.
The Hermod taxied sturdily .down
the field and took off trimly. There
were instants when it seemed to
hang in the clear air, suspended
over the field. She could see Con-
rad Jqrdan waving. Presently he lost
dignity and importance and became
a tiny toy figure in a world of
playthings and vanished altogeth-
After a moment she said, "I
want to be a flier.”
“That to also good."
“Then, you think women should
fly?"
“Why not? Women have courage;
the skill they may learn. In the
ancient history of my country the
women fought often beside their
— -— If
men.
“L know.” She remembered the
governess’ books from the library.
"My grandmother," he began
again, his voice warmer than she
had heard it before, “there could
be no more of courage in woman er
asked the pardon; I have taken her
to fly. It is finished."
It must have been almost at the
same instant that Lynn Dana was
typing to his traveling cousin in
Geneva. “And so, Sally Ann, my
dear, it has begun!”
flash by on through
Ann and
Leeches, being pajy^itic to a con-
siderable degree, can
found clinging to the
Soon they were taxiing over the
meadow, and Sarah Lynn saw with
a .warm uprush of gratitude that it
had been leveled into the semblance
of a decent landing-field. Great-
granny, Uncle Lynn,- going' to that
extra expense so that she might see
her Ladybug first in the setting of
old memories.
The plane turned, disdained the
browning grass, rose serenely into
the air. Instantly, Sarah Lynn knew
in a blaze of ecstasy that she had
never flown before! Turning traitor
to all earlier" thrills, she realized
that a cabin-plane cut in two the
kingdom and the power and the
glory. Now, with nothing between
her and the sky, she was really fly-
tagl • __' . -
"My first flight in my own plane!"
she told herself rapturously. "I cart
never be as happy as this again
if I live to be a hundred!" ’
She wished passionately that there
were more hours instead of minutes
before her. but the Gipsy Moth de-
voured the miles relentlessly, and
came daintily down at the San Jose
airport.
Men came running with grinning,
friendly faces to help her out, me-
chanics, helpers, attendants. There
was a youth with a camera which
clicked as Sarah Lynn stepped to
the ground.
—“Well. Miss Dana, how do you
like your boat? Slick job, hUh? Go-"
ing to fly her yourself?" He came
cloaer. "Mind if I get one of you
and Gunnar Thorwald together?”
.the reporter persisted.
"hands, huh? Sort of ’Welcome to
the sky!’ "
"Gunnar Thorwald isn’t here,"
she began coldly, but then she saw
him coming toward her. “Oh,
please, we’d rather not!" She kept
her .head down.
The Norwegian ace reached them.
"I-"drive you home," he-said with-
out preliminary greeting.*
The young newspaper man man-
aged a snapshot while they got into
Jordan’s car. “Thanks a loti" he
called out, his nose looking pertly
triumphant.
They rolled out of the field-and
down the road.
“Oh, I forgot!" Sarah Lynn said.
"Great-granny and Uncle Lynn
were coming for me! I’m afraid
must wait for them." ♦
“We meet them on the road?”
“Yes, we could—"
“You must go quickly home?"
"Oh, no," she discarded the hap-
py birthday plans at which her
mother had archly hinted,
mean—*’
“I have the earnest wish
those large trSes."
A muscle twitched in her
"Then we’ll go to Felton, over the
mountains, an hour, an hour and s
half—**
(TO BE CONTINUED)
Dana, youngest of the Dana
—inavale. Calif., chafe* at tha
•ordered life approved by her mother,
who is trying to marry her to
an Van Doren, Detroit society youth.
reat-Granny Dana, covered-wagon pioneer,
community matriarch, recognizes in the
1 the restless adventurousness of the
dark Danas," • trait shared by her and
Sally Ann Dana, traveler and author,
nd pleads with -Sally Ann to take the girl
broad. Uncle Lynn, wheelchair invalid,
dds his plea to Sally Ann to save Sarah
n, as does the girl's young brother. Bill,
ther plea comes from Miss Pennington.
Penny,*’ adoring governess of the girl,
-aying she is unhappy and ml*under*tood.
At a family dinner party. Sally Ann first
hear* of Keaton Dana's ultra-modern wife.
Ardine. who runs a roadhouse called the
Stewed Prune, and is trying to wangle a
flight with Gunnar Thorwald;-Norwegian ace.
famous for Ms refusal to fly women, through
their mutual friend, Jim Allison. Gunnar
Thorwald arrives with Jim Allison, and
Sarah Lynn is attracted to him. Duncan
Invites her to the Stewed Prune. Sarah
Lynn refuses to drink anything but ginger
ale. Cousin Mary Dana Webster tells Sarah
drives Sarah Lynn to the
hotel to await her father, one of the party
phones the story to the newspapers, iden-
tifying the two fliers, and the "bride" as
Kitty Medifi, wild stunt filer. Danavale ia
convinced Sarah Lynn has been dragged
Uncle Lynn promisee to get the truth to
Gunnar. Sally takes Sarah Lynn abroad, and
writes Uncle Lynn of her plan to make an
avtatrix out of her. Sarah Lynn receives
a cable from borne, saying her mother is
threatened with pneumonia. Sarah Lynn ar-
are scattered over rich pasturage.
Laborers may be seen out in the
fields, fertilizing plowed ground,
planting, or harvesting.
Modern Bekonscotian country-lov-
ers find rest from daily toil in bath-
ing and boating on the lake. A
swimming float, literally "just a
step" from the edge of town, to
usually crowded with aquatic de-
votees who sun-bathe on grass or
dock, or float in the cooling waters.
Lucky it to -that the tiny natators
are made of wood, or else a fish of
no great size might gobble half a
dozen of them for breakfast! .
------fiay Pastins st the Is bn.
On Bekonscot road, at the edge of
town, a roadhouse does a booming
business, principa^y, gossip says,
because it is so handy to a tiled
swimming pool with several bath-
houses and a two-foot diving tower
with five springboards.
Close at hand, a flag-bedecked
pier pavilion juts into the lake. Here
little citizens lounge against the
rails, basking In sunlight reflected
'from scarcely rippled waters. Boat-
ing parties depart from this dock.
In the evening relayed phonograph
music supplies dance rhythms for
Bekonscotian "night owto."
Bridges, Lilliput-slze but strong
enough to support human explor-
ers, connect two islands in the
rectangular pond occupying the cen-
ter of the village plan and consti-
tuting the outer harbor of Bekon-
scot'a port.
On the central island a knee-
high lighthouse directs commercial
shipping, cabin cruisers, snd belat-
ed sailing craft, while another, on
> a mainland promontory, guards the
.entrance to the port proper. This
is reached by an estuary leading
back from the lake half a mile (15
feet to liter a lists!).
Tiny tugs assist scale-model
ocean liners, freighters, and war-
ships into this basin, where they tie
up at new concrete docks.
Behind the docks concrete steps
lead up to' a freight station. South-
pool Docks (named after Southamp-
ton and Liverpool, two of Eng«
land’s leading ports).
Bekonscot Railway.
This depot to on a spur of the
famous Bekonscot railway, 1,200
feet of electrified metal rails bound
by three-inch wooden ties to an
unsurpassed roadbed (of tarred
chips). From four tracks under the
spreading glass and steel dome of
Mary loo station (another combina-
tion name, frbm Marylebone and
Waterloo, London stations) faithful
reproductions of famous trains pull
out on scheduled runs over the big
recurved loop of double trsck which
circles through the town, out into
the rural country beyond, then back
through town again to near its
starting point.
Intelligently, the railway follows
the landscape, instead of the land-
scape following the railway, which
to the commoner way in miniature
layouts. Cuts and fills, bridges and
tunnels, accentuate the illusion of a
man-size transportation syst
Several trains, frequently chan
run at once, their course and sj
ted from central cor
"Freights" pull a 1
them their houses were on fire and
their children would bum?"
"I remember.”
"Uncle Lynn and Great-granny
used to call me Ladybug, didn’t
they? I haven’t thought of that for
years.** ~ —-------— .
“Haven’t you, indeed?"
Something in her tone made Sarah
Lynn halt, “Penny, dear, we are
going too fast? Lightning seems to
set the pace but we can shift into
low if you like!”
"Certainly not!" ,
"Oh, look at Lightning!" The
greyhound, at the bend of the road,
tensely silhouetted, was gazing fix-
edly into sp’ace. "Isn’t she glori-
ous when she’s sighting something?
Her lines do things to me, like sun-
sets and symphonies."
They rounded the curve and Sar-
ah Lynn cried: “There’s a plane!
Look, Penny—a plane in our field!"
She began to run, Lightning bound-
ing before with shrill, suspicious
barks.
There in the center of the broad
meadow, Searing already toward the
long,, bright, rainless summer, an
airplane rested on the ground like
some great bird briefly breaking its
flight. It did not look disabled to
Sarah Lynn, and the pilot stood un-
hurt beside it. Out of gas, prob-
ably. There was a closed car close
by, and she was abreast of it be-
fore she realized it was the one
shared by her great-grandmother
and- her uncle.
She stood still, then, beginning to
shake with excitement.
The ancestress hopped nimbly out
of the machine and hurried to her.
There were debs of dull crimson on
her cheek-bones and she was laugh-
ing in her shrill, cackling giggle.
Her great - granddaughter man-
aged a strangled whisper. "What—
what to it?"
"It’s your covered wagon, Sairy
Lynn!"
"For me? To keep?" Questions
going off like a string of small fire-
crackers.
"Yours," Lynn Dana answered
from the windows of the car.
She ran to him, her mouth work-
ing. "Uncle Lynn, Uncle Lynn! Not
—belonging to me? To fly?”
"All yours and only yours. Many
happy returns from Great-Granny
and me. We let Conrad Jordan and
‘Glinn»l' Ttiin wrM -wink it nut for US
but we were very firm about having
a Gipsy Moth." He grinned at her.
"It was the nearest we could get."
Then she saw what he meant. The
little ship was painted a clear,
sharp, lacquer red with its name in
black letters—L A D Y B U G.
The pilot tugged briefly at his cap.
“Le Roy’s my name. Flew her
over for you." He had a deeply
scarred face and a bitter mouth,
but there was a look of weathered
and seasoned youth about him.
“Want to take a hop?”
"Yes! But first I must look!" She
walked round and round the plane,
several times putting out a hand
to touch it Then she went back
to the donors and gave a hand to
each and stood staring at them.
"Great-granny, Uncle Lynn—”
she began, trying to assemble an
adequate sentence. She shut her
eyes and kept the lids tight for a
long instant before she opened them
again, and the nonagenarian and
the man who had sat still in a
chair for more than half his life
would always remember the
drowned glory of them. "Do you
mind if I go?" she asked huskily.
"You just up’n put out, Sairy
Lynn," the ancient woman told her,
shrilly competing with the noise of
the motor.
The man said with his good grin,
"Ladybug, Ladybug, fly away
home!"
Then she ran back to the plane.
Lightning beside her. "Are you go-
ing to teach me?" ' ,
Prepared by National Geographic Society.
Waahington. D. C.—WNU Service.
AMAZING Bekonscot is a
ZX two-acre Lilliput, artfully
■a 1. created in flawless minia-
tures of wood and stone, metal,
stucco, bright paint; and glass.
To the fascinated crowds that
throng its narrow paths and
streets each summer, it is a
thousand square yards of bliss.
For six years Mr. Roland Calling-
ham of Beaconsfield has worked to
build this complete model village in
the charming rock garden of his
Buckinghamshire home, about an
hour by road from London. Origi-
nally planned simply to .decorate this
garden, the little townrwas opened
to the public when its wonders
brought it unexpected fame.
Here, where hip-high houses bor-
der yardwide streets busy with the
traffic 6f toy automobiles and peo-
ple less than two fingers broad,
every man and boy steps naturally
into, a Gulliverian role and every
little girl plays Alice in a miniature
Wonderland.
WKat is the uie of ■ “book/1
thought Alice, “without pictures or
conversations?" Bekonscot sur-
passes that young lady’s ideal in
fiction by providing real models,
which can be handled as well as
seen, to illustrate its "story” of an
English village.
.Village Has Every Detail.
From a swelling knoll at one cor-
ner ef this Utopia for youngsters of
any. age the visitor overlooks an
ideal'thriving country town spread
out below: Houses, half-timbered
and of brick, with tiled roofs and
painted trim; three carefully de-
■ignrfl churches; a post office; an
up-to-the-minute railway' system
with speeding freight and passenger
trains, electrically operated signals
and switches; Main street shops
with window stock displays; a flood-
lighted airport with planes of many
types and sizes; luxury hotels;
docks, with the latest fashion in
mechanized hoisting equipment;
sleek ocean liners coming and going
in the harbor; and (final touch of
realism!) model men and women
of appropriate size scattered ev-
erywhere in'poses suitable to their
activities.
Everything to in-correct propor-
tion, with no minutest detail
neglected—but an inch in Bekon-
scot to equivalent ■to a foot outside
its gates.
Bekonscot*! principal house of
worship—and one of its leading at-
tractions—dominates a little rise be-
hind the town. A cordon of visi-
tors usually surrounds this church,
whose elegance matches that of
many a "grown-up” structure.
Forty-five such churches, piled
one upon the other, would not equal
the height of Westminster Abbey, yet
the smaller shrine is built of just
as carefully cut stone, to also en-
riched with stained glass, also to
flanked by "massive" flying but-
tresses. Bells even chime out from
its belfry, and muffled organ and
choir music (from phonograph rec-
ords) comes in just the right vol-
ume from within.
.Pleasant homes of timber and stuc-
co line fashionable Hill Crescent
near North Bekonscot station. Spot-
less white fences enclose smooth
green lawns—carefully clipped with
a pair of scissors. You almost ex-
pect to see the little people run Out
from their houses, jump into their
parked cars, and hurry off to the
picnic grounds!
The pulse of business beats strong-
est in High street, where stores of
many kinds line the block extend-
ing from Church street to Eest
street, which leads down to Bekon-
scot station. Products for sale in
each shop art skillfully displayed in
the windows—electrical appliances
in the electrician’s, meat in the
butcher’s, cakes and rolls in the
baker’s, antiques in the antique
dealer's, even deeds and wills in
ths attorney’s!
Largely by the meticulous render-
ing of detail have Bekonseot’s build-
ers achieved such an excellent ap-
pearance of reality. Red mail boxes,
like painted spools; tiny telephone
booths; ultramodern metal paving
blocks the size of dominoes; rain
gutters and drain pipes no thicker
than your little finger—faithful little
touches "dress up" the town to look
like the real thing.
By RUTH COMFORT MITCHELL
WNU SERVICE
The pilot nodded without undue
enthusiasm.
"How long will it take?”
’ She shrugged, “Depends."
She flushed. "Of course. But, I
mean, if I try with all my might—
if I’m not too dumb—if I study and
work—" “* ——
“Just for a Private, of course.
Private Flying License. That’s the
quickest. Ten hours instruction, ten
hours solo flying; that’s the mini-
mum.” st
“Yes," she said contentedly,
"When is my first lesson?"
“Tomorrow.”
• Oh, pot today?”
He shook his head. "Physical ex-
amination—lots of details to fix up.
But I’ll hop you over to the field,
now, and your folks’ll drive over
after you. Ready?” With swift
strength he swung her up and into
the cockpit and climbed in himself.
ing on Gunnar, and Sarah Lynn, in an in-
creaaing ttupor, decide* to warn him. When
Gunnar arrive*, angry at Jhn Alliaon for
miuing connection*, he hear* Sarah Lynn
cry, "Go awayt Don't come ini Ladybug,
fly away home," and *ee* her carried out
to the ladle*’ room, unconsciou*. Gunnar
arrive* at the airport. Sarah Lynn, partly
—* » %jer •f*jDor fmaffines the sensations
, with Gunnar *t the control*. ..Own*
nar, to Lo* Angele*. «en*e> lomeone
■landing him. When he realize*
it 1* Sarah Lynn, he ahout*. "Keep away
from me. drunken fool.* win liatcn to no
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The Lampasas Daily Leader (Lampasas, Tex.), Vol. 35, No. 55, Ed. 1 Monday, May 9, 1938, newspaper, May 9, 1938; Lampasas, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth1199788/m1/3/: accessed July 16, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu.; crediting Lampasas Public Library.