The Silsbee Bee (Silsbee, Tex.), Vol. 19, No. 25, Ed. 1 Thursday, June 24, 1937 Page: 3 of 18
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THE SILSBEE BEE
gown gives to
new
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A
Some-
a
Lesson for June 27
/
SYNOPSIS
ered lashes.
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CHAPTER IV
fell
CHAPTER HI—Continued
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4
G.
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are
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Clean Field Will Pay Well
Specialist Advises.
God’s Training
“Surely it matters little whether
we have more or less of this world’s
good and comfort in these short
years when God is training us for
the eternal enjoyment of His love.
Keep the great end of life before
you, and your troubles here will
seem but the hardships of a jour-
PASTURE FEED IS
FAVORED FOR PIGS
I
>1
I
w.M-u
Soviet
Kathleen Store w ~
k -1
more
“I’m so sorry—I can’t.”
“I Love This Sitting Here With
You.”
Lucius Farmer came tc see them
the next morning.
Magda was restless; Victoria had
gone into her own room to try on a
gown her mother had brought her.
It was of sheer batiste, embroidered
delicately with tiny garlands of
roses, all in white. It was the sort
of gown that makes any girl’s eyes
dance, and Victoria, coming back
with its frail folds blowing about
WHO’S NEWS
THIS WEEK...
By Lemuel F. Padon
/
Improved
Uniform
International
___J
Shilling, Anyway
The expression “cut off with a
shilling” is believed to have its ori-
gin in the ancient Roman law which
provided that a will, to be legal,
had to make some provision for
true heirs, no matter how small.
Thus, it became customary in Eng-
land to insure the validity of a will
(though the Roman law had never
been adopted) by providing for a
true heir with at least a shilling,
no matter in what disfavor he may
have stood.
Clean Water for Ponds
A location that will allow drain-
age from only clean pasture d"
meadow should be chosen for the
farm pond, says Marion Clark of the-.
Missouri College of Agriculture..
Water from barnyards and lots,
should never be allowed to drain in-
to stock ponds. Where it is de-
sirable to construct a pond where-
water from lots would normally-
drain into it, terraces should be
used to intercept the contaminated
water and carry it to another water-
shed where it will not pollute the
pond water.
Yellow Newtown Apple
The Yellow Newtown apple, which
has grown for many years in Vir-
ginia and is there known locally as
the Albemarle Pippin, was brought
to that state by Dr. Thomas Walker
who was a physician with the Vir-
ginia troops during the French and
Indian war. After the defeat of
Braddock, Doctor Walker returned
to his home in Virginia and appar-
ently carried scions of the apple
trees in his saddle-bag. These scions
were successfully grafted on trees-
at his home in Castle Hill, Albe-
marle county.
VV’iWVVVVVVVVVmYVVVVVVY
Judicial .300 Hitter.
"MEW YORK.—Some may choose
’ the role of a Judicial Coriola-
nus. Their retreat farmward after
stout labors is honorable, too, for
all that it is made under the shadow
of a presidential frown. White-
bearded George Sutherland, how-
ever, will not budge.
He likes his work, and, reading
between the lines, you gather that
he has yet to know a president
fitted to say whether he does it
well or ill. For fifty-odd years he
has watched presidents come and
go, often into oblivion, but his long-
ish, resolute countenance, year in
and out, has been picked up by
every spotlight reaching after the
.300 hitters in his profession.
Nor does he scare easily. As a
teen-age agent for Wells Fargo in
the Blackfoot country, he learned
early that the biggest warwhoop of-
ten comes from the littlest Indian.
Nor is he awed by prodigies, polit-
ical or otherwise. He was a sort
of prodigy himself, a graduate of
the University of Michigan and a
lawyer by every legal measuring
rod before he Was twenty-one—and
a married man to boot.
President Harding sent him into
the Supreme court. According to
some of Harding’s cronies, he could
have been Secretary of State if he
had not been born in England.
That means he missed the cabinet
by fifteen months. He was no older
when his parents brought him over
here.
Now he is seventy-five, and when
the court is sitting he gets to work
at half-past nine and eats his noon-
day snack in his office in order to
keep up with those Anti-New Deal
decisions which have prompted a
roiled administration to offer him
a paid-up life membership in a
three-hours-for-lunch club and then
some.
Grinding Kafir
Grinding is a profitable practice
in preparing some feeds for con-
sumption by hogs, but it apparently
is not economical in the case of
kafir, offered in self-feeders. C. P.
Thompson, animal husbandry spe-
cialist at the Oklahoma agricultural
experiment station, found it took
440 pounds of ground kafir to pro-
duce 100 pounds of gain as com-
pared with. 438 pounds of whole
kafir. Moreover, there was practi-
cally no difference in the daily-
gains of pigs self fed on whole kafir
and those self fed on ground kafir.
________ *
Farm
Topics
By H. W. Taylor, Extension Swine Spe-
cialist, North Carolina State College.
WNU Service.
A good, clean pasture for spring-
farrowed pigs will pay big dividends
at marketing time next fall.
When on good pasture, the sow
and pigs are protected from disease
and parasite infection and provided
with feed essential to health and de-
velopment. And pasturage is the
cheapest form of feed that can be-
given the young porkers.
Soy beans planted in rows and-'
cultivated twice will furnish excel-
lent grazing from the time the
plants are about 15 inches high un-
til frost.
On good land an acre of soy beans,
will support 15 to 20 shoteSj provid-
ed they also receive a full feed <x£
corn and a good protein supple-
ment.
Such pastures should be sown on-
land where pigs have not been al-
lowed to range during the previous
year or so. Best results will be ob-
tained if the land has been cultivat-
ed with some crop since the last
time swine were on it.
Land used for hog pasture or hog
lots during the past year may be
infested with parasites, particularly
worms, or other forms of disease- ■
producing organisms.
To get the pigs in top shape for
fall market they should be kept on
full feed at all times.
SUNDAY
SCHOOL
LESSON->
By REV. HAROLD L. LUNDQUIST.
Dean of the Moody Bible Institute
of Chicago.
© Western Newspaper Union.
Frozen Roughages
Roughages such as alfalfa hay
or corn fodder do not contain any
appreciable quantities of poison
dangerous to livestock, even though
they have been frosted, says Cecil
Elder of the Missouri College jaf
Agriculture in answering inqumes
concerning dangers in feeding:
roughages that have been frosted/
or otherwise damaged. There is,
therefore, no danger of poison-
ing following the feeding of this ma-
terial after it has been frosted or
frozen.
Three Things
Beauty,, truth and goodness are
not obsolete; they spring eternal in
the breast of man; they are as in-
digenous in Massachusetts as in
Tuscany, or the Isles of Greece. And
that Eternal Spirit, whose triple
face they are, moulds from them
forever for His mortal child im-
ages to remind Him of the in-
finite and fair.—R. W. Emerson.
Pies for the Poor
“To eat humble-pie” means to
eat our words, to be humbled; the
old expression was “umbles-pie,”
pie made from inferior portions of
deer and given to the poor.
i
LESSON TEXT—Hebrews 11:3-10, 17-
22.
GOLDEN TEXT—These all died in
faith, not having received the promises,
but having seen them afar off, and were
persuaded of them, and embraced them,
and confessed that they were strangers
and pilgrims on the earth.—Hebrews
11:13.
PRIMARY TOPIC—God's Honor Roff.
JUNIOR TOPIC—God’s Honor Roll.
INTERMEDIATE AND SENIOR TOP-
IC—Heroes of Faith.
YOUNG PEOPLE AND ADULT TOP-
IC—Faith Tested and Triumphant.
ing.
up at all?”
“Not on duty, and you sort of get
out of the habit. What are you look-
ing at?’ Victoria asked, with an
embarrassed laugh, as her mother
continued her placid scrutiny-
“Well, you’re simply adorable,
Vicky,” she said at length, “and
you get enthusiastic just the way
you used to. But—although it’s a
little soon to talk about it, I had
rather a different plan in mind for
you. I was thinking of Europe,
after your debut.”
“Europe!” Vicky echoed, her own
eyes suddenly blazing. She remem-
bered her student year there under
the gentle unremitting chaperonage
of the Dominican nuns. Again she
heard the fountains of Rome splash-
ing; saw the lights of the Place de
la Concorde setting white statues
and dark tree tops in bold relief
against a blue night sky, caught a
whiff of wet spring greenness from
the grass beside the London Mall.
“Oh, Mummy!’ she said.
“Would you like it?”
“Oh, well, Mother—you and I?” | her, wore the radiant expression
Sunlight Is Source of
Vitamin D; Aids Poultry
Sunlight is just as essential to
good poultry health as green feed,
fresh water and clean quarters. The
wise poultry raiser, whether he has
a sizable flock or only a few hens,
will find profit in providing proper
sunshine. Pens, runways, feeding
houses, brooders and yards should
be planned carefully to take full
advantage of the health-giving rays,
says a writer in the Los Angeles
Times.
Know, too, that sunlight is an.
important source of vitamin D, es-
sential to normal growth and health;
of all animals. In the case of poultry,
they need the vitamin D. of the
sun’s rays because:
(1.) Adult birds become weakened!
and soon develop rickets without
adequate sunshine. Without the sun,
the growth of young birds is stunted
and they turn out to be sickly,
scrawny specimens.
(2.) Egg production is affected
vitally: If your flock is producing
soft or paper-thin shelled eggs, the
reason may be that it is not getting
enough sunshine.
Head Man of Finland.
JUSTUS MANNERHEIM’S Hom-
*-* burg hat rides his grizzled
head at a broadway slant. His bar-
bered mustache lifts perkily at ei-
ther end. The tops of his gloves
are folded back. His vests sport
natty white piping. His swarthy
cheeks are shaved down to faint
blue shadows. This at seventy. He
could be a hold-over beau of the
Cotillon era.
He is, as a matter of fact, the
great man of Finland, field marshal
and, some say, uncrowned king. It
is as little less than king that his
countrymen hail his birthday. The
old French fireside philosophers had
it that clothes do much to make
the man, but, rated on his record,
Justus Mannerheim would be siza-
ble in any gathering if he wore only
salvation army hand-me-downs.
He has bulked large iri the Finnish
picture since 1918, when his small
republic carved off the vast iceberg
that had been imperial Russia. His
white guards whaled the everlast-
ing daylights out of home-grown
reds. Needing extra help1 when Bol-
sheviks threatened across the bSr-
der, he talked Germans into help-
ing, and then talked them back
home when a clash with a British
expeditionary force seemed immi-
nent.
All the while he was clearing a
ditch here, strengthening a fence
there, to make plainer the cleavage
from Russia. His people made him
premier, but he grew too great for
any title. Now every title in the
land honors him.
© Consolidated News Features.
WNU Service.
The great “heroes of the faith”
chapter, Hebrews 11, provides an
excellent review summary of the
messages in Genesis, which we
have studied during the last three
months. Fittingly, the entire ac-
count, from the Creation to the hope
for the future expressed by Joseph,
revolves around the word “Faith.”
The patriarchs had many npble
qualities but these were all rooted
in the fundamental of all virtues,
namely, that faith in God without
which “it is impossible to plgase
him” (v. 6).
Our study may well attempt no
closer analysis of the text than to
I note the results of faith as they ap-
pear in the verses of our lesson.
I. Understanding (v. 3).
Philosophy and human research
frequently bog down in the confused
bypaths of unbelief and partial
knowledge, but faith cuts right
through the clouds and the confu-
sion and “understands” that God is
the creator of all things. If you
want to know, believe God.
II. Worship (v. 4).
The world abounds with cults and
religions of almost unbelievable di-
versity, and of appalling insufficien-
cy for the needs of man. Only when
man does as did Abel, and worships
God in accordance with God’s holy
law will he obtain “witness that he”
is “righteous.”
III. Fellowship (v. 5).
Here again faith triumphs. The
societies and associations of man
fumble around trying to establish
“good will,” “fellowship/)f faiths,”
and what not, only to fail. But when
a man knows God as Enoch did,
then he is ready for true fellowship
with his brother.
IV. Assurance (v. 6).
When a man trusts God implicitly
the uncertainties of life vanish. It
is an easier thing to talk about than
to do, but, thank God, it can be
done. We must believe not only that
God is, but by faith we must recog-
nize him “as the rewarder of them
that diligently seek him.”
V. Salvation (v. 7).
Saved by faith—that is the story
of the Christian, even as it was the
story of Noah. The ark is typical of
Christ. Only in him is there salva-
tion.
VI. Obedience (vv. 8, 9).
The world has a ribald saying, “I
don’t know where I’m going but I’m
on my way,” which represents a
dangerous philosophy of life. But
faith in God enables one to go with
Abraham who “when he was called
went out, not knowing whither he
went.” He knew God and that was
enough to call forth unquestioning
obedience.
VII. Vision (v. 10).
Men of vision—that’s what we
I need, we are told. Well, then we
need men of faith who can see the
unseen, who can see “a city which
hath foundations” even in the midst
of the wilderness.
VHI. Resurrection (w. 17-19).
God gave a promise and the only
means of fulfilling that promise was
about to be taken away, but Abra-
ham did not hesitate for he believed
that God was able and ready to
raise the dead if necessary to fulfill
his promise. Have all our prospects
been dashed to the ground? Is ev-
erything hopeless, humanly speak-
ing? God is both willing and able
to make all things work together
for good and for his glory.
IX. Hope (vv. 20-22).
The forward look—that is the look
of faith. Isaac’s blessing concerned
“things to come.” Jacob, too weak
tc$ stand alone, leaned on his staff
and worshiped, and passed on the
covenant blessing. Joseph gave
commandment concerning his body,
looking forward to God’s fulfillment
of the promise.
Christian hope is not a wishful de-
sire that an unbelievable thing may
somehow occur. That is an unbe-
lieving misuse of the word “hope.” ;
To a child of God hope means a
well-grounded assurance that God '
will keep his word.
Victoria’s voice shook with excite-
ment.
“We two.”
“Ferdy wouldn’t mind?”
Instead of answering, Mrs. Man-
ners looked away through the ex-
quisite silky shadows of half-low-
Victoria’s heart sank;
she knew that gentle patience, she
knew that long, resigned sigh. All
was not going well between her
mother and Ferdy.
The luncheon was cleared away;
the two women resumed their chairs
by the wood fire.
“There are a thousand persons to
whom I ought to telephone,” Madga
said lazily. “I won’t. I love this
sitting here with you. You haven’t
told me anything about yourself.
Vicky, have you seen or heard any-
thing of your father?”
The question came suddenly, and
with it the color rose to Magda’s
face.
“Yes, I saw Dad about two weeks
ago,” shexsaid aloud.
Magda added no further ques-
tions, but her eyes were expectant.
“He’s married again, you know,
Mummy. I wrote you that. And
they’re going to have a baby. They
were married last February, and
they expect the baby at Christmas.
He simply adores Olivette, and he’s
all excited about the baby.”
“Ha!” Magda said and
thoughtful. “Still up iiXSeattle?”
Victoria Herrendeen, a vivacious little
girl, had been too young to feel the
shock that came when her father, Keith
Herrendeen, lost his fortune. A gentle,
unobtrusive soul, he is now employed
as an obscure chemist in San Fran-
cisco, at a meager salary. His wife,
Magda, cannot adjust herself to the
change. She is a beautiful woman, fond
of pleasure and a magnet for men’s
attention. Magda and Victoria have been
down at a summer resort and Keith
joins them for the week-end. Magda
leaves for a bridge party, excusing her-
self for being such a “runaway.” Later
that night Victoria is grief-stricken when
she hears her parents quarreling. The
Herrendeens return to their small San
Francisco apartment. Keith does not
approve of Magda’s mad social life and
they quarrel frequently. Magda receives
flowers and a diamond from Ferdy Man-
ners, a wealthy man from Argentina
■whom she had met less than a week
before. Manners arrives a few hours
later. Magda takes Victoria to Nevada
to visit a woman friend who has a
daughter named Catherine. There she
tells her she is going to get a divorce.
Victoria soon is in boarding school with
her friend Catherine. Magda marries
Manners and they spend two years in
Argentina. Victoria has studied in Eu-
rope and at eighteen she visits her
mother when Ferdy rents' a beautiful
home. Magda is unhappy over Ferdy’s
drinking and attentions to other women.
Vic dislikes him, but for her mother’s
Bake is nice to him. When her mother
and stepfather return to South America,
Victoria refuses to go with them because
of Ferdy’s unwelcome attentions to
her. Magda returns.
Vic-
a big
She liked the mart at
once, one must like him; there was
something about Lucius that dis-
armed criticism, that won all
hearts. Something simple and
friendly, and a little uncertain and
timid, and at the same time some-
thing definite and vital; there was
% world of mirth, a child’s secret
and delicious merriment in his gray
eyes.
He was not smiling this morning;
he seemed serious and burdened,
immediately the pleasantries of
greeting had died away. Victoria,
presently going back to her room,
could hear through the open door-
way the gravity of his tone as he
and her mother talked at the win-
dow, their heads together.
“I can’t, Magda,” he said
than once.
But when Victoria came out again
to find her mother alone, there was
ai. air of disappointment or defeat
in Mrs. Manners’ attitude. She was
glowing with inner fires; she was
shaken, laughing, ecstatic. She put
her arms about Vicky; held the girl
away from her to laugh into her
eyes.
“My darling, do you like him?”
Victoria regarded her with
smile that had small heart in it.
“Isn’t the question—do you?”
“Vic, on the steamer, the day
we left Buenos Aires, we found each
other!” Magda said. “He came up
to me and said, ‘Aren’t you the
Valdes’ friend, Senora Manners?’
I don’t know how he ever nerved
himself to do it, for he’s not like
that as a rule. But he said he had
seen me at the country club. We
hardly spoke to anyone else on the
voyage; we had our meals on deck,
we talked and talked as if we never
could talk enough!
“For the first time in my life, Vic,
I have met a man who stirs ir me—
something—something that I might
have been, might have had?” Mag-
da continued. “He loves me, I
know that, although he’s never told
me so. But it isn’t that. It’s the
companionship, the exquisite delight
of being understood—understood!”
Magda broke off to say in amused
scorn. “He knows more than I of
everything—books, music, people.
And his attitude toward life is so
beautiful, so simple and eager and
fine.”
There was a silence. Magda
smiled and wiped suddenly wet
eyes, and Victoria smiled, too, a
mother’s patient smile for a child.
“So what?” the girl asked good-
naturedly.
“So nothing, my darling, that’s
the tragedy!” Magda answered
lightly, and there was another si-
lence.
“No,” she went on presently, end-
ing it. “Ferdy gets here next week,
and Lucius goes down to his wife
and the little girls in Carmel, and
that’s the end.”
The day moved on.
That night, when they went down-
stairs to join the Kendalls, and be
carried off for a dinner, Victoria
saw Lucius and a woman and two
gawky dark shy girls, all sitting in
the great red chairs of the hotel
foyer, evidently waiting for some-
one. Was it for Mother?
Whether it was or not they-all
came over to Vic and Magda, and
there were introductions. Mrs.
Farmer was a plain stout whole-
some - looking little woman in
glasses, with ropes of oily gray-
brown hair wound about her head.
The girls were like her, although
both gave promise of some beauty.
Ann. Constance. Victoria.
“Vicky,” said her mother, in the
course of the next few days, “when
you fall in love, make it with a man
to whom you can be an inspiration.
It’s a sacred thing—it’s worth all
the pain and the ache, to inspire a
truly great man!”
At first Victoria felt most pity for
the man. He was clever, keen, af-
fectionate, simple, and he was suf-
fering cruelly. After a few weeks
she perceived that her mother was
in misery as great as his. Magda
carried it better, but it was there.
Ferdy was back now, restless, ir-
ritable, unreasonable. He went to
races, fights, polo games with men;
he went off on hunting and fishing
trips. Sometimes Victoria thought
“He says he loves it.”
Magda twisted the Herrendeen
pearls in beautiful restless fingers.
But for some reason or other she
felt a little chill in the air, felt
that her mother wasn’t wholly
pleased with the news that Dad
was happy and that a new baby was
on the way.
“Ferdy,” said Madga, out of
thought—“Ferdy is a strange crea-
ture, Vicky. I may as well tell you
now as at ally time that every-
thing’s wrong—it’s all wrong.”
Victoria was silent, puzzled, and
after a pause Magda went on light-
ly:
“And so—Mr. Fernando Ainsa y
Castello Manners and I have de-
cided to separate. No, no, no, not
a divorce,” she interrupted herself
to say quickly, as Vicky’s stricken
face was turned from the fire in
involuntary protest. “He doesn’t
want a divorce. If he got a di-
vorce Maud Campbell would have
him married before he could turn
around, so he doesn’t want a di-
vorce, and neither do I. If you get
a divorce they can do all sorts of
funny things about alimony, go to
court and have it adjusted and less-
ened—I don’t know what they can’t j
do. But a separation means that
you and I can live where we like,
and do as we please. And so it’s to
be Europe—off we go! I’ll get you
some things—or we can get them
there—”
“The only thing,” Victoria began
somewhat hesitantly, “Ought Ferdy
pay for me, too? I mean, it’s all
right for a visit—it’s all right for a
few months. But after all—after all
he doesn’t owe me—”
“It’s my money, and you’re with
me,” Magda explained simply, with
a touch of impatience.
“I was thinking of Ferdy, Vic,”
Magda said, out of a silence, “and
thinking—” she stopped for a long
sigh—“thinking of the tremendous
difference there is in men,” she
said.
“I mean, Vic,”'she began again,
as Victoria could find nothing to
say—“I mean that—well, I suppose
I was thinking of Lucius Farmer.”
“Who’s he?” A familiar tighten-
ing, a familiar sinking sensation
was at Victoria’s heart- Oh, dear.
Oh, dear. This was commencing
again was it?
“You must know his name, dar-
ling. He’s about the most success-
ful painter of murals in America.
He made the trip with us from
Buenos Aires, but he lives down
here in Carmel with a perfectly
impossible wife and daughters.”
“And what did the impossible wife
and daughters think of you, Mum-
my?”
“Oh, they weren’t along—perish
the thought! No, he was alone.”
Magda’s voice fell to a dreamy
note. “One of the finest men—”
she said, under her breath. “I mean
one of the simplest and—and big-
gest—and gentlest—
“This life would be heaven for
women, Vic, if many men were like
him!”
And again Victoria could find
nothing to say.
Victoria looked sympathy, dis-
tress.
“We’ll be gone in a week, Mum-
my. Then won’t it be better?”
Magda looked at her' daughter
somberly.
“I’m forty-two, Vicky, and I’ve
never—liked—anyone before,” Mag-
da faltered, with a little difficulty.
“It isn’t only myself—truly, Vic, it
isn’t. But it’s to hurt him so hor-
ribly—to ruin his life, now when
he’s just beginning to succeed—
that’s what kills me,” Magda whis-
pered. \
“But you’re separating, Mother.
We’ll be gone in a few days. That’ll
help,” Victoria said, forcing her-
self to gentleness and sympathy.
“That’s just it, Vic. It’ll kill
him.” Magda shut her eyes, and
tears squeezed themselves under
the lowered lashes.
“But he’ll have his work, and his
wife and children—” Victoria be-
gan and stopped.
“His wife means absolutely noth-
ing to him, Vic. They’ve been noth-
ing to each other for five years. He
told me so.”
“But Mother,” she presently of-
fered doubtfully, “doesn’t a man
belong to his wife?”
To this Magda superbly made no
answer. With an expression of pa-
tient endurance she rose and swept
into her room.
When the bright soft morning
came, Magda was exhausted. Her
face was bleached and blotched
with tears, her eyes swollen, and the
hair that had so often been pushed
off her forehead during the fevers
of the night hung in careless locks
and showed darkness at its roots.
Victoria was dressed in silk pa-
jamas, having her own breakfast,
when her mother awakened; she set
Magda’s tray on the tumbled bed
before her. But her mother could
not eat. She drank a little coffee,
set the tray aside. “Vic,”
breathed, “what shall I do?”
“Mother, you mustn’t cry
Ferd’s coming up this morning;
he’ll be here for lunch!”
“Ferd knows,” her mother whis-
pered, not opening her eyes.
“Ferd knows!” Victoria was star-
tled.
“I told him.” Magda shrugged in-
differently.
“Well, what does he think? Is he—
What does he say?”
“Nothing. It amused him, I
think,” Magda said, with more bit-
terness than Victoria had ever seen
in her before.
“You wouldn’t like to divorce Fer-
dy?” Victoria asked doubtfully. “If
Lucius got a divorce?”
“He won’t hear of it.”
“Ferdy won’t!” It was an excla-
mation.
“No. He’s frightened to death of
that Campbell woman. She’s going
to be on the Loughborough yacht;
he knows that the minute I’m out
she’ll be in. He’s tiring of her al-
ready, or if he’s not he’s beginning
to feel that he will some day. As
long as he’s married to me he’s
safe.”
(TO BE CONTINUED)
France’s Big Bad Boy.
JACQUES DORIOT has figured out
a new salute for the members of
his Parti Populaire Francais. Pic-
ture a short man hanging onto a
street-car strap, take away the
strap, and you have it, just about.
The net effect is a pretty com-
promise between the Fascism
which France’s biggest bad boy on-
ly half avows and the communism
which he bitterly repudiates.
A lot of revolutionary water has
spilled over time’s dam since
Jacques Doriot was a confessed
red. Once he defied the worst jails
in France to advance the cause of
revolution. Then he visited Moscow
and saw sights that frightened him
back home to an orthodox family,
old-fashioned suspenders and all the
philosophical concomitants of these.
Now he is imbedded as the boss of
St. Denis. That is a radical suburb
of Paris. Jacques Doriot was its
mayor until the government threw
him out, alleging some questionable
business touching upon municipal
contracts. The title was taken away,
but not much of the authority.
The St. Denisites still shower him
with “vives” when he runs plump
fingers through his black shock of
hair and roars, “Mes amis!” and
they read his La Liberte with the
devotion of converts* That tells
them, chiefly, to throw down the
present radical government in
France and raise up—Doriot.
him entirely oblivious of what was
going on; sometimes she thought he
knew. Magda was burning up with
it; she could not have wholly con-
cealed it even if she would,
glowed and trembled, laughed and
cried; she was strangely, awk-
wardly like a girl again—a girl
upon whom the inexorable forties
had set their tragic seal.
how it hurt Victoria to the deeps
of her soul to see her mother’s
agony in this grip of young love.
Lucius was fighting it; grimly,
honestly, uselessly. He and .Magda
met; sat long over hotel tea tables
telling each other that this must be
the end, that there was no honor,
m happiness for them except in
renunciation. Magda, in her dark
violet velvet, with the broad brim
of her dark velvet hat shadowing
her splendid eyes, and the rich gold-
brown of sables setting off her ex-
quisite skin, was perhaps as beau-
tiful at such moments as she had
ever been in her life. Just to be
with Lucius brought the transpar-
ent color to her face and the strange
liquid pulsing to her eyes.
. But when they had parted it was
only to begin the agony again.
Ferdy was settled in a suite of
rooms connecting with Magda’s
own.
It was Ferdy who brought to Vic-
toria and Magda a handful of steam-
ship companies’ folders. They
opened the shining, brightly colored
little booklets eagerly, studied floor
plans, discussed “Deck B” and
“Deck C.” It was Ferdy’s idea that
Magda and Victoria take one of
the canal steamers to New York,
stopping at South America and is-
land ports, using up the coldest of
the winter weeks on the leisurely
trip.
“It’s just possible that Lucius will
be on the Elcantic with us,” Magda
said one day innocently.
“Mother, don’t let him!” Vic
pleaded. Magda looked at her, and
the color rushed into her own face.
“But, what am I to do, Vic? I
can’t stand this!” Magda suddenly
muttered defensively.
Maid, dog, parrot, bags, they got
into a large waiting car at the Em-
barcadero, Mrs. Manners talking,
as is the custom of returned trav-
elers, of the amusing steward on
the boat, the races at Havana, of
everything unimportant and incon-
sequential. They were driven rap-
idly up the steep hills to the big
hotel; everything going with the
smoothness of custom; Victoria’s
mother had been arriving and de-
parting in just this manner ever
since her second marriage -five
years earlier.
Soon Victoria and her mother set-
tled at luncheon beside the fire.
“Well, this is fun!” said Magda
then. “And now we can talk. You
look so well, Vic, and you’re really
handsome. Really you are! What
have you been doing with yourself,
tell me everything, you got my
wires?”
“You’re the one with the news,”
she said smilingly. “Nothing has
happened here. Miss Butler put me
on night duty last night—only the
second time, and I’m dead! I had
breakfast at the hospital at seven,
and had to clean up three bath-
rooms, and stopped on my way
downtown to leave my bag' here.”
“The hospital!” Magda echoed
, aghast, not hearing the rest.
“You’ve been ill!”
Victoria’s smile was reassuring.
Her color was beginning to come
back now, as she fell with vigor
upon a three-inch steak, and there
was revived light in her eyes.
“I’m in with Catherine,” she ex-
plained. “Student nurses.”
Mrs. Manners sat back and re-
garded her with puzzled eyes.
“Mummy, you’re such fun—it’s
such fun to be talking to you again,
and it’s the best food I ever tasted!
But darling,” Victoria pleaded, “I
had to do something. I couldn’t
just take a room somewhere and
wait for you. You were with Ferdy
’way down in South America, and
I was absolutely on the loose.”
“But you were with Anna and
Catherine.”
“Aunt Anna got a most flattering
offer from a school in Cleveland.
We couldn’t go with her, and Kittsy
was going to be a nurse. So I
went along to the hospital with
her.”
“You are handsome,” Madga
said, under her breath, not listen-
‘Don’t they let you use make-
that only a
twenty years.
She halted at the sight of
strange tall man standing at the
foggy window,' talking with her
mother. They both turned,
toria’s hand was taken in
hard hand.
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Read, David. The Silsbee Bee (Silsbee, Tex.), Vol. 19, No. 25, Ed. 1 Thursday, June 24, 1937, newspaper, June 24, 1937; Silsbee, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth1370984/m1/3/: accessed July 17, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu.; crediting Silsbee Public Library.