The Hondo Anvil Herald. (Hondo, Tex.), Vol. 60, No. 25, Ed. 1 Friday, December 21, 1945 Page: 6 of 8
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ASK ME
ANOTHER
A General Quiz
The Questions
1. Who was the first Pr s n»
ti the United States to l>c born a
citizen of the United States?
2. In weather language what is
• thundercloud called?
3. What is an aureole?
4. Through what cession did the
jDhHed States acquire its largest
Rdrtitinw at territory?
1. What is a sadist?
Thu Answers
L Martin Van Buren.
2. Cumulo-nimbus.
t. Illumination surrounding the
body at a holy person in Christian
K
4. Louisiana Purchase.
I. One who delights in inflicting
pain on others.
LOOK Ml THIS Milt
At roil mein
ITS DOUBLE
ACTIN6x3W
Yes. New ROYAL
S.A.S. Phosphite Bak-
ing Powder gives dou-
ble action—the first ill
the mixing bowl, the
stetnd in the oven. As-
sures 2-war safety and
success in all bekingi
;J $ PHOSPb3
4“ ING POVVPt'
s»a
I vua Cut
humktm
lvmiittwTiit*
^ ROYAL
111 PIISPIATE BANNS NIKI
Cwtito N Cw il Tutor
HER BOSS LIKES
HER WHITE UNIFORMS
HUNTSVILLE. ALABAMA. -
Miss Minnie Belle Poole must
have a particular boss. Here is
what she wrote in a letter about
Faultless Starch:
“I like Faultless Starch best
of all because I work where
I have to wear white uniforms.
So with Faultless Starch I
can keep them just like my
boss wants them kept. Thanks
to Faultless Starch! It is ev-
erything its maker says it Is.”
One of the wonderful thing*
about Faultless Starch is the way
it makes white things come out
beautifully white, and colored
things come out beautifully bright.
There is a reason for it. You see,
Faultless Starch is made a special
way—with special starch and spe-
cial extra ingredients. It doesn’t
turn brown under the iron and It
doesn’t put a film over the cloth.
It penetrates the fabric—gives the
cloth the "finish” from the inside
out, instead of by coating the out-
side.
EASY-FOR BUSY FOLKS
Another wonderful thing about
Faultless Starch is that it makes
it EASY for busy people to do
beautiful starching and ironing. It
takes only a minute to make per-
fect hot starch with Faultless
Starch. Just cream it with a little
cool water and add bo ling water
while stirring — that’s all — it’s
ready to use.
Ironing is so easy, too, Fault-
less Starch contains ironing-aids
that stop that "sticky” iron. That
makes the iron just fly along—
smooth and easy. No wonder It’s
easy to do beautiful ironing, be-
cause Faultless Starch makes iron-
ing a joy—not a job.
You should try Faultless Starch
right away. You’ll like it so much
You’ll never want to be without it.
—Adv.
When Your
Back Hurts
And Your Strength sag
Eneagy la Below Par
It BIT be caused by disorder of Md-
e*r function that parmlta poisonous
waste to accumulate. For truly many
people feel tired, weak and miawmMe
trhea the kidaeyt fall M ramoye excess
add* aad other male matter from the
Mood.
' You may ouffor tMgfag totootoo.
rheumatic peine, hecdachaa, dtedaem.
gatting up aifhta. lag peine, cocUfag.
Eiaeunee frequent aad oeoaty artel
tioa with emartfag aad baralag ■ le-
ather ei|B that anmethlag la wreag Mb
*^Thsfs should be ao^oabt that proeyt
treatment le vrteer thaa aegfaet. we
Peas'. Pit
trszs.’Zu?.
ava haaa Mad am
Are at all dreg i
Donwuvw &
£7btev&i
GWEN
RISTOW
Doans Pills
Of STOBY THI S FU: Sprat! Oar-
, eaetmfal maOaa ptrtare producer,
murried Ettxaboth. all* bar brat
Artbar Klttrcdf c. bad heoa ro-
lled la World War L They bad
DU, ebony aad Brtaa.
bad heaa arybaaed wbaa a
baby aad bad heaa raited by bar am*
aad Bade b Talu. Oae laatmer vaea-
Sm dl mat Artbmr at the iiaatry
shah. They wore married teaa after-
warda. Within a year he ealltted aad
batata Was waa ml averteaa. Tbaa
aame be leleynm (ram the war depart-
meal, aaaaaaclag that Arthur wat hilled
la aettoa. The light teemed to have
(oae eat tar Elizabeth.
CHAPTER VI
Elizaoeth took the pen and looked
at it an instant, then as though it
ware a horrid object she threw it
down on the blotter and stood up.
**Nol” she exclaimed, and she
meant it, though she could not just
then have told what prompted her.
"No. I don’t want the government
to pay me for Arthur. I can earn
my own living. I’d rather.”
Before they could reply she ran
out of the bank, leaving Uncle Clar-
ence to apologize for her strange be-
havior, and the banker to answer
Uncle Clarence that it was quite all
right, he understood, the poor girl
was young and had no idea of money,
and she had undoubtedly received a
great blow, just come bark when
she’s more reasonable, glad to see
you both any time.
Elizabeth was walking quickly
along the street. She felt somehow
strong and free, stronger and freer
than she had felt since the day she
had received that terrible telegram.
All her senses were abruptly alert.
She noticed that there was a tingle
of spring in the air. People were
walking fast, as if they had some-
where of importance to go. All of
a sudden she stopped in front of a
Store window and said "Ah!”—not
an audible exclamation, just the
swift little catch of her breath that
she would have given this time last
year at the sight of a smart black
hat with a red feather.
Her thrill was gone in an instant.
She had time only to think, “Why,
this is the first time I’ve noticed any-
thing,” before the tiredness was
back on her and she was saying to
herself, “What difference does it
make what I wear now?” Looking
up at the store front, she remem-
bered that she had bought many hats
here in the past. One afternoon
she had called Arthur and told him
to pick her up here on his way home.
He had come in while she was still
hesitating, and had made the choice
for her—"Here's the one for you,
Elizabeth, black with a red feather."
She caught her breath again, but
this time it was to stifle a sob, and
she hurried home as fast as she
could.
Once at home she sat down tense-
ly, asking herself with a sense of
desperation, "Can’t I ever get away
from this?” Then, suddenly, she be-
came aware that in asking the
question she had unconsciously, by
the words she was using, provided
the answer. She had to get away.
But though the answer had come,
it was not clear. For a few mo-
ments this morning she had been
exhilarated, until the hat with the
feather had brought him back. What
was it, she asked herself now, that
had given her that brief bright
sense of being alive again?
It was something that had Hap-
pened at the bank. She had said she
did not want to be paid for losing
Arthur. No wonder they had heard
her with such surprise, for on the
face of it that was a foolish thing to
say. Nobody could believe a war
widow lost her self-respect by re-
ceiving a government pension. But
her words had given her the impres-
sion of shaking off a burden. As
she thought of it she remembered
what else she had said. "I can
earn my own living. I'd rather.”
Naturally they had been startled,
She knew no more about earning
her own living than a child. The
idea of such a possibility had never
occurred to her before. She had
spoken without thinking, and yet she
had somehow been thinking of some-
thing much more vital than the
source of her income. She sought
to recall it, more than once drawing
back, for the operation was too pain-
ful to be continued without pause,
but at last she found what she was
looking for. "I was thinking of
something, not about a pension or
about my going to work. Just for
a minute I got a flash of it and it
was like being waked up with a dash
of cold water I know—I was realiz-
ing that I didn't have to keep on
being dependent on Arthur.”
That hurt. She stood up and
walked around, her whole spirit pro-
testing against the hurt of it. "I want
to be dependent on him! I was so
happy when all day I was thinking
of him. ’I’ll tell Arthur about this,
he’ll laugh and laugh,’ ‘I must ask
how she makes that sponge-cake,
Arthur would love it.’ ’Do you real-
ly like my bracelet? Arthur gava
it to me.’ Arthur, Arthur, all the
time, never anything but Arthur.
Stop it, Elizabeth I I don't care how
It hurts, stop it I Arthur is dead.
Yes, say it and get used to it. He’s
deed, and you’re burning yourself
BP like those Oriental women who
Ue down on their husbands’ funeral
pyres. Arthur wouldn't want this.
He loved living and he wasn’t afraid
At dying, but he'd hate this imitation
' “ —I’ve been slipping into. If
you’re ever going to be anything
better than a sick vegetable, you’ve
got to learn to count on yourself.
The only minute you’ve felt alive
since you lost Arthur was the minute
you aaid you didn’t have to depend
cm him any more.”
But aa she walked around the
house, or looked out at the sidewalk
and its familiar trees, she knew
more and more certainly that as long
as she stayed within sight of these
things she would continue to lean
on her memory of him. She would
be, not an individual, but Arthur’s
widow, a poor object standing
around like something a traveler had
forgotten to take with him on his
journey. But if she turned down
that pension and went to live in a
strange environment it would mean
she would have to take care of her-
self, no matter how much her resolu-
tion might waver. Her lists doubled
up and her whole body tense with
the effort, Elizabeth faced the neces-
sity. She had to go. She was going.
She chose California because nei-
ther she nor Arthur had ever been
“No, I don’t want the government
to pay me for Arthur.”
there. Neither of them knew any-
body who lived west of the Rockies,
and there was nothing in California
that would remind her of him. Once
her decision was made she set about
vigorously getting ready to leave
Tulsa, doing everything briskly lest
she be overwhelmed with the pain
of parting. Her first act was to buy
a ticket for Los Angeles. Having
it there bolstered her determination
on the occasions when she thought
she could not go through with it.
The ticket safely in her desk, she
began deliberately to strip herself
of the physical objects that linked
her with Arthur. She had to do this,
because if she had taken them with
her she would simply have built up
another home like this one, where
she could not pick up any article
of use without remembering that Ar-
thur had touched it. She sold most
of her household possessions, and
what she could not sell she gave
away. It was hard to do, but not
as hard as it would have been to
live among these reminders of her
lost happiness. Her acquaintances
were puzzled by her vehemence, and
Aunt Grace was volubly shocked.
They could not understand what she
was doing, and believing like most
other people that if they could not
understand a matter it had no ex-
planation, they sa^d, "Who would
have thought Elizabeth was so
heartless?” Aunt Grace agreed
sadly, and told them Elizabeth had
not only sold the desk where Arthur
had worked, but had even given his
clothes to the Salvation Army. Oh
well, said Uncle Clarence, Elizabeth
was young, and the young were not-
ed for their springing adaptability.
But Aunt Grace shook her head.
"She has no soul,” said Aunt
Grace. "And after all we've tried
to do for her." Contemplation of
Elizabeth’s lack of soul sometimes
moved Aunt Grace to tears.
Since it was useless to explain to
Aunt Grace, Elizabeth kept quiet
and went on doing what she had to
do. If she was going to leave, the
break had to be entire. There was
no other way. She parted with ev-
erything except a few keepsakes too
precious to be given into alien hands,
but even these she packed in a cov-
ered box which she put underneath
the clothes in her trunk when she
took the train for Los Angeles.
As she crossed the continent she
looked out with amazement at the
immensity of her native land. No
book of geography had given her any
conception of such a space. This,
she told herself as she looked out at
the citiea, the ranches, the desert,
thia waa what Arthur had died for
Every acre of it was a safe place
where Americans could live in se-
curity. Watching the states go by,
Elizabeth felt as if she was drawing
strength from the strength of her
In Los Angeles she learned to
typewrite, and took the first job that
offered itself through the employ-
ment office of me Business school.
It happened to be a minor clerkship
in a law office, where a large part
of the business was concerned with
the contracts of Hollywood actors.
This was before the days of the great
agencies, and actors were supposed
to handle their own contracts with
the advice of privately retained law-
yers Elizabeth's work was mostly
routine, answering the telephone and
copying legal documents, but the
moving picture business was young
and even her own small contact
with its bounding growth was inter-
esting enough to demand all her at-
tention.
When she woke up in the morning
she no longer faced the blankness
of an empty day, and at night she
was tired enough to go to sleep She
had an apartment consisting of one
room with a bath and kitchenette,
but she was not uncomfortable.
With the other girls in the office she
talked about the immediate affairs
of the day. She never talked about
Arthur. They had not known him
and could not be interested in him,
and this was the reason why she had
come to California.
As for the men in the office, they
might have been sexless for all the
thought she gave them. The first
time one of them asked her to have
dinner with him she felt startled,
with a curious under-feeling of re-
sentment; but it was the most ordi-
nary sort of invitation from a friend-
ly young fellow who disliked eating
alone, and she accepted, though still
with a sense of strangeness. But
they had a pleasant evening, talking
about nothing more personal than the
bad temper of their boss and the
unreasonableness of all actors, and
when she came back to her apart-
ment she looked at herself in the
glass thinking, “I do believe I'm get-
ting normal again.”
She was getting normal again; she
could feel It, like the return of equi-
librium after dizziness. Her fellow-
workers liked her and she was be-
ginning to enjoy their companion-
ship. When she got a promotion and
a raise she felt a justification of her-
self that was real delight. As her
job in the office brought her into
contact with a great many em-
ployees of the moving picture In-
dustry, her acquaintance Increased
and with it her invitations. She lost
her sense of strangeness at going
about with men who were not Ar-
thur. There were plenty of them
to go out with, and there was noth-
ing unpleasant in discovering again
that she was an attractive woman.
She did not try to pretend to herself
that she was happy, but she was
not unhappy either. There were still
hours when she ached for Arthur,
but she was grateful for what she
had.
She had been in California two
years when she met Spratt Herlong.
Spratt worked in a studio publicity
department. It was sometimes nec-
essary for him to visit the office
where Elizabeth was employed, to
get information about screen play-
ers under contract to his company.
The girls in the office liked him, be-
cause while he was always friendly
he never stared meaningfully at
their legs while he talked to them,
or sat on their desks killing time
that they would have to make up by
staying an extra hour to finish the
day’s assignment. Though she had
not been long in Hollywood. Eliza-
beth had already had sufficient ex-
perience of both these habits to ap-
preciate the lack of them. She ob-
served also that Spratt worked hard
and got results in the form of ■
great deal of magazine and news-
paper space for the actresses he was
paid to publicize, and her own brief
career in the business world had
taught her to admire anybody who
concentrated his attention on doing
his job well.
As Spratt was invariably good-
humored and reasonable in his re-
quests—in contrast to some of his
colleagues, who were too impressed
with ideas of their own importance
to take the trouble of being either
pleasant or reasonable with office
clerks—she responded by giving him
all the assistance she could, even
when it meant extra effort on her
part. Spratt was grateful, and
proved it not only by telling her so
but by sending her tickets to pre-
mieres, coming by to drive her
home In the evening, or calling up
for lunch or dinner. Elizabeth liked
him increasingly. Before long aha
found herself hoping, when she start-
ed for work in the morning, that
there would be a call from him to
enliven her day.
Spratt was very unlike Arthur.
Later, Elizabeth thought that one
reason for her immediate pleasure
in hia company had been that ha
roused her interest without at the
same time rousing her memories.
Spratt was terse, practical and cool-
ly ambitious. He liked the moving
picture business and intended to be
■uccessful in It. Hia expectation had
no elements of uncertainty—he waa
as matter-of-fact about it as a man
who walks toward a chosen destina-
tion with the purpose of reaching it.
Elizabeth had no doubt of his getting
what he wanted. Spratt knew his
trade, though he had never dona
anything In e studio more impor
tant than direct publicity build-ups.
(TO EE CONTINUED l
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Davis, Fletcher. The Hondo Anvil Herald. (Hondo, Tex.), Vol. 60, No. 25, Ed. 1 Friday, December 21, 1945, newspaper, December 21, 1945; Hondo, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth565087/m1/6/?rotate=180: accessed July 16, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu.; crediting Hondo Public Library.