Newspapers / The Elkin Tribune (Elkin, … / April 25, 1940, edition 1 / Page 5
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Thursday, April 25. 1940 XV. Mrs. Harry Putfh Smith *3* CHAPTER m Synopsis Janet Phillips finds herself left out of things when her wealthier friends in Bay City come home from their finish ing schools and colleges. Pris cilla Leigh—at the moment in terested in Janet's old friend Gordon Key—is making herself disagreeable. Gordon has just broken a date with Janet to go to a dinner at Prise ilia's. Jim Phillips, Janet's brother, has run into the pampered Howard Leigh and Helen Sanders on the golf links. Jim is subbing as golf pro for the summer and offers to give Miss Sanders lessons. Although he doesn't like her, he is fascinated. Meanwhile, Janet goes to the apartment of her sister, Bere nice. Berenice has just paid off jJl cry \rl\cs which Y ■ iltt 1 Thurs day, AP" 12 TICKETS l.Wmf® to «W LOVE'" \ 9:45 A- _ 566 below ■ BK HB gg ■L D SPECIAL OFFER , J" 31 ** Features • Maasurad Haat aimpliflaa $5.00 CASH $lO for Your Old Units wtth 5 maasurad haat*. Stove and 24 • Ovarslu »-qt.Thrtft CMlnr. Tkir i i , ti • AH-Pwp*** Ovwi. Months to Pay • ona-piaca top stain- _ r«sl*tant ana Rial. •ET FREE TICKETS FOR "BLAME IT ON LOVE" AT Duke Power Co. Phone 210 Elkin,N.C. her bridge losses and asked her guests of the afternoon to leave before her husband Bill comes home and sees the highball glasses. The moment the door closed behind her friends Berenice be gan emptying ash tray? and dis posing of highball glasses. "Would you mind carrying these ginger ale bottles out to the trash barrel in the hall, Janet?" she asked. "I don't dare leave them lying around the apartment. Bill's a regular Sherlock Holmes at spot ting evidence." Janet felt a little sick. "Don't you think it's awfully cheap to do things behind Bill's back?" she asked when she returned. "If Bill weren't so unreason able I wouldn't have to," mutter- >,?••• •- :j .p.-;, *w • '■ ■■■ v iff t K v •, m' THE ELKIN TRIBUNE, ELKIN, NORTH CAROLINA Ed Berenice, hastily putting the percolator on. She was a small, curved per son with a dimple in her left cheek and skin like a gardenia. Her eyes were red-brown too and she had extravagant black lashes and lovely little feet and hands. To Janet, who was taller and whose black hair did not curl, Berenice had always seemed ab surdly childish, in spite of the three years' difference in their ages. "Bill is sweet when we are alone together," admitted Bere nice and sighed. "No one could be sweeter, but he's so dreadful ly narrow." Janet's voice was unsteady. ',' You aren't a very striking ad vertisement for love in a cottage. I mean you were so in love with Bill I used to envy you. Now all the icing seems to have come off the wedding cake, or has it?" She did not know exactly why, but she needed desperately to be reassured about many things which until recently it had never occurred to her to doubt. But there was nothing reassuring in the bitterness which hardened Berenice's piquant face so that all at once she looked years old er. "Love's a lot of phooey, Janet," she said in a curt, disillusioned voice. "It's the honey with which nature baits the trap. For heav en's sake, take me for an ex ample, or Mother, so far as that goes, and don't be the kind of saps we've been!" "I don't believe Mother regrets having married a poor man!" cried Janet breathlessly, because even to think such a thing was as if a fist had landed on her heart. "Listen, Janet," said Berenice, looking intense, "you don't have to tell me that Mother's swell at making the best of a bad bargain, but don't kid yourself. I don't care how much you love a man, after you've been married to him a year or so you wonder where you ever got the idea that love makes up for everything." "Hullo," said Bill grufly, toss ing his hat over on the over stuffed couch and scowling when it landed on a pile of gayly color ed magazines and slid to the floor. "Hello," said Berenice, putting a plate of sliced bread down on the table with an ungentle thump. "Janet, I didn't see you!" ex claimed Bill, his face lighting. "How's my nice li'l sister?" "All right, I guess," murmured Janet dubiously. All the members of Berenice's family were fond of Bill Carter. He was a big, self-conscious young chap with thick black hair, a lock of which was con tinually falling down over his eyes. When he smiled he had an engaging boyish look which offset his protruding jaw and the stub born line of his mouth. "Going to feed with us?" he asked. Janet shook her head. "I have to go out to the club for Jim." Bill was staring at the table on which Berenice had just deposit ed with another thump a slender platter of warmed-over beans. "You're lucky," he said to Janet. "We're supping out of a tin can as usual." Berenice sniffed. "I'll say she's lucky. Nothing on her mind ex cept what dress she'll wear to the dance tonight. Single girls have all the luck." Bill scowled. "As you've men tioned before." Janet glanced from Bill's low ering black eyes to Berenice's flushed cheeks and she swallowed painfully. "I guess I'll run on," she stammered. "You can't be blamed for get ting out before we start throwing things,' said Bill, the comers of his mouth turning down like clamps. "Yes," said Berenice, pushing a Chair violently up to the table. Janet left them glaring at each other across the narrow expanse of the dinette, as if it were a No Man's land lined with the barbed wire of their hostility. * ♦ * * Anne Phillips walked home from work that afternoon. The building in which She lived was a three-storied brick structure with two flats to a floor. It had beer built in the days before real estate men considered it impera tive to utilize every available foot of ground for income purposes, and stood well back from the street with a neat lawn in front and a deep back yard. Each flat had a large front and back porch but there were no elevators or incinerators in the building. "I know it dates me," Anne ad mitted to her friends, "but I'd rather climb stairs and run out to the alley with trash than to give up my old-fashioned big kitchen and my porch boxes." Anne's flower boxes lined the railings on both porches of her flat and kept her busy nine months in the year. It was true she managed to have something in bloom from early spring to late fall, and she even grew rad ishes and lettuce and shallots in the box by the kitchen door. Old Mr. Jacoby was sitting on the front stoop reading the af ternoon paper when Anne came up the walk. He was seventy, a withered little old gentleman with a courtly manner. He "bached," as he expressed it, in two neat housekeeping rooms in the basement and looked after the furnace In the winter and the lawn In the summer. "Good evening, Miss Anne," he called out. "Warmer today, ain't it? Ought to be fine for them Shasta daisies of yours." Anne smiled. "And for your rheumatism." "Nope," he said, "it's not so good. We can look for rain within twenty-four hours." Anne chuckled. "I'll carry my umbrella tomorrow." Mr. Jacoby claimed that his trick knee was an infallible ba rometer of weather conditions. Some of the younger generation in the building made fun of his prognostications, but not Anne. She could never forget the daze she had been in when she moved her fatherless little brood into the flat, a daze in which nothing seemed real to her except that raw new grave where she had buried her carefree youth. It was Mr. Jacoby who brought up a huge bowl of hot soup which he had made himself, ignoring with fine courtesy the tears which slid down Anne's wan cheeks as she sat there at the kitchen table in her new widow's weeds, Janet on her lap, Beernice clinging to her arm, Jim trying to be manly though he was only ten. "Don't worry about the future," said Mr. Jacoby then. "God will give you strength to meet each day as it comes." It was trite counsel, and this intellectual age is disposed to jeer at such simple faith as Mr. Jacoby's, yet it had comforted Anne Phillips. It still comforted her. She was smiling when she climbed the stairs to the second floor and unlocked her door. "Anybody home?' she called out, her usual greeting. "Just me," came Janet's clear young voice from the farthest re gions of the flat. "Hello, dearest," Anne murmur ed, reaching for the apron she kept hanging on the pantry door to slip over the smart black crepe dress which she wore to the store. "Hello, Mums," said Janet. "Come on out and cool off. Sup per's ready except the tea, and there's no use cracking the ice till Jim comes. I was going out after him but he telephoned that he'd drive in with Ruth." Janet was lying back in one of the canvas deck chairs which the family moved about from porch to porch as desired, stretched out full length, her arm flung up above her head so that her face was in the shadow. There was dejection in the listless manner in which her long straight limbs were disposed. Anne Phillips felt the dawn of uneasiness. It was unlike Janet to droop. "Tired?" asked Anne, trying not to sound like the overanxious mother who nags her children to exasperation by an excess of so licitude. "A little," admitted Janet. Her mother waited with that uneasy spot inside her steadily growing but, whatever troubled her child, she was not ready to discuss it. "Have a hard day?" asked Janet. "No more than usual," said Anne and laughed. "Mrs. Henry Leigh was in looking for a din ner dress. I tinned the stock over for her, but nothing suited." "It makes me sick, your hav ing to grin and bear people like that!" cried Janet. "It would be different if you weren't a hun dred times more refined than Priscilla Leigh or her mother will ever be!" Anne flung her daughter a startled glance. "I don't mind being patronized by Jennie Leigh, Janet. I knew her when she lived with her folks back of their meat market and thought it polite to pass the toothpicks to company. Not that she doesn't Eikin's 171 TUR ATDC ELKIN ' S Newest JCJJLIIV 1 iIILA 1 i\Ei ' Best rhursday, April 25 Monday-Tuesday, Matinee Monday— i rogers mmmk And the Original "Dead End" Kids Tfc'MROSIE Mickey Mouse Cartoon - Nows Admission 10c-25c * MARJORIB KAMBEAU • HENRY maSt-ftr. TR AVBRS• MILKS MANDER —*b-#btr Qoccaie Smith • Joaa Carroll ttmn famf Friday-Saturday, Matinee and Night THREE MESQUITEERS I Added: March of Time—"Finland" Admission 10c-25 —in— Wednesday, Matinee and Night— "HEROES OF THE SADDLE" 'tRAS|INGJHROOGH» Serial - Comedy - Disney Cartoon Admission 10c-25c Color Cartoon - Serial - Admission 10c to All deserve worlds of credit for the way she toned down her rough edges after she married Henry. Only she knows I know about them and that's why she can't keep from trying to impress me with the fact that I may have been born to the purple, but it's she who's wearing it now, tra la." Janet winced. "And I used to think that breeding and the quality of your grain are what counts," she remarked bitterly. "They are," said her mother. "Oh, no, they're not," protest ed Janet. "No one cares how vul gar you are inside if you can af ford to go to expensive schools and run with a fashionable crowd. Priscilla Leigh would doublecross her best friend, but she will be the most popular deb A nnouncement In accordance with the law, I have filed my name as a candidate for the House of Representatives from Surry County. I wish to express my thanks to those many friends all over the county who have asked me to place my name before the voters of Surry County. If nominated and elected, I expect to serve, to the best of my ability, all of the people of this county. I- was born and raised on a Surry County farm, an interest in which I still own and operate. I have spent my whole life in Surry County. Through training and experience I feel that I know the problems of the County and State. I pledge my best efforts to the upbuilding of Surry County, and the State of North Carolina. My record at Raleigh, where I have served two terms, is an open one. My fellow workers in business, and my neighbors at home, are my best references. I know that Surry County is moving forward in farming, business and education. lam proud of our County, and pledge my whole efforts to advancement. Your problems are my problems; I feel that the hard working, serious minded men and women of the County will be with me. HENRY C. DOBSON this season because her dad gives her gobs of spending money." "I think," said Anne slowly, "that Henry is generous with his children about money because it's all he has to give them." "You could have married him, couldn't you?" Anne smiled. "He left that impression." "But you preferred a struggling young physician." ' Anne's freshly colored face so bered. Janet was more like her mother than either of the other children. Both she and "Anne had firm cleft chins and lustrous dark hair. Anne was as slender as her daughter, and unless very tired she looked much too young to have a son of twenty-four. "Yes," she said, "I distinctly preferred your father. You see, although Henry waa well on his way to his first hundred thou sand at that time, he was any thing except a romantic suitor." She laughed softly. "I can't tell you what a relief it was when you father and I announced our engagement and Henry abandon ed the pursuit." "And then Mrs. Leigh caught him on the rebound?" "More or less." "She was his stenographer, wasn't she?" "She was very pretty in those days," said Anne evasively. "Quite as gorgeously blond as Priscilla." "And how she has got on I" (Continued Next Week)
The Elkin Tribune (Elkin, N.C.)
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April 25, 1940, edition 1
5
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