Newspapers / Wilmington Morning Star (Wilmington, … / July 4, 1940, edition 1 / Page 10
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SYNOPSIS THE CHARACTERS: BENJAMIN MERRIFIELD, aged capitalist, hires GAYLE DIXON to make love to his grandson, JEREMY TUCKER, a shy student of archeology. • • • YESTERDAY: Jeremy is embar rassed when he comes upon Gayle in the arms of Bill, in the reception room. CHAPTER NINE Mr. Jeremy Tucker, grandson of Benjamin W. Merrifield of the Merrifield copper millions, was a man who had reached the matur ity of 23 years. He himself knew it to be mature because wider all legal and moral concepts age 21 makes a man grown, and he was two years past that. Time was when he used to do frivolous things, youthful things. One is to be excused for such lapses, due to one’s youth. A ma ture man, of course, must give himself to serious endeavor. Jeremy had learned to be seri ous away back in high school. A relatively slender physique which kept him out of most sports, one eye which tended to drift slantwise and required heavy spectacles, and parents who were determined to make him a “man of brains” had all been responsible. Books, whole libraries of them, had been placed in Jeremy’s path since before he could remember. That there is a world apart in books, everybody knows. Jeremy discovered it early. He moved from the sheer enter tainment value of books as a high school freshman, discovering their more meaty worth, and by the time he was a freshman in college he was a kind of walking savant that belied his actual years. For instance, Jeremy knew more about such things as philosophy than he did about—well, about girls. “The transcendentalism of Kant tends to affirm the existence of a priori principles of cognition,” Jer emy had said only last evening, in a happen-so discussion during the otherwise gay party. Several of the girls heard him, but they didn’t answer, except for little Tempe Hyde. “OOooooo!” she sounded off, im pressed. Jeremy naa looxea at ner tnen, conscious of her appreciation. It is good to be appreciated. Before the evening was over he had told her quite a bit about transcendental ism, and he had told Gayle Dixon quite a bit more about archeology. Gayle was really more responsive than the smaller girl, he had found. Gayle had—well, poise, and intel lectuality. Tempe seemed to think that “OOooooo” was sufficient con ribution to almost any discussion, which of course was erroneous. * Gayle had come right out and said, “Jeremy, exactly what is archeology, arid why does it fasci nate an intelligent man such as you?” Now that was all right. Jeremy set in to answer her. It took him about half an hour to do so.' It was the most talking he had done to a pretty girl since—well, let’s see—probably ever. Of course he didn’t classify that as "talking to a girl”; it was a discussion of his work intelligently when opportuni ty presents. That’s what scholars are for. Scolarliness .defeats its own high purpose unless it is shared with humanity; any true scholar is in herently unselfish with his knowl edge. It is a code of the intelli gentsia everywhere, Jeremy re minded himself that night in bed. pe wished he had explained trans cendentalism to Gayle, too. This morning, after the party, it occurred to him that he must find time to be agreeable to the Miss Dixon and Mr. Bailey whom his grandfather had hired to manage a new Little Theater project for this city. Sponsorship of the drama was a noble enterprise, of course, even though not directly related to archeology or philosophy. “It might even be said,” Jeremy had mentioned in discussing it with Mr. Weems at breakfast, “that the drama represents the highest form of art, because the ideal drama re-creates human lives. Shakespearian analysts will agree to that. Music, of course, has infinite esthetic power, but I would rate the drama even higher, would you not, Mr. Weems?” “Oh, of course, sir,” Mr. Weems nodded. The elderly secretary stood somewhat in awe of this bookish young man. The two had been served breakfast together fre quently since Jeremy’s arrival in the Merrifield mansion a couple of weeks ago, Mr. Weems feeling it essential that someone act as host for the young man. Mr. Merrifield himself was a little more cold about it. Study into the vast and no doubt fascinating field of pre-history in Yucatan was to have occupied Jer emy all of this morning. He had been unable to concentrate, though, and so had come down stairs—to enter the conservatory abruptly and come bang onto Bill Bailey holding pretty Gayle in his arms and kissing her. His shock had been no greater than theirs. But Bill’s recovery was quickest. He moved away from Gayle rather hastily. “Ha, ha—hi, there, Jeremy—ha, ha!” He sounded rather silly, ne knew, and he saw that Gayle was crimson. He went on, with elabo rate casualness. “Rehearsing a part, Jeremy, for the new play. Been at it all morning. Gayle's try ing out for the feminine lead. Yeah.” “Interesting,” Jeremy nodded, thawing a little, and being polite. “Yeah, sure is. Whew! Warm in here.” It wasn’t warm in here, or at least Jeremy couldn’t feel it, but no doubt Bill had been working hard. Jeremy saw that Gayle was suddenly concerned with reading her script. “What is the play you expect to present first, Mr. Bailey?” “Oh, just call me Bill! Every body else does. The play is a honey, really. A springtime com edy called ‘Maid to Measure.’ Three acts. Brilliantly written. ’ ‘“Maid to Measure.’ Regret to say I am not familiar with it,” Jeremy said. “But then, I know relatively little of contemporary drama. You will act in it, then, as well as direct?” “Yeah. We’re short of male chara — SAY!” Bill suddenly snapped his fingers, seemed to dis cover that Jeremy was standing there. “Listen to me, Jeremy, didn’t you know you were sup posed to be in this play yourself?” “Why—why, no!” Gayle looked up. Nobody else had thought of that until now, really; but the idea was sound. “Sure you are! Come right up here, young man. I’ll put you through that same part and see what sort of actor you’ll make. Now look, the script reads that you and the heroine are—” The explanation was rapid, and so forceful that Jeremy could get in no protest at all. Nobody could escape Bill Eailey, as a matter ot fact, when that ebullient young man’s verve was going. He was quite irresistible, and his enthusi asm was contagious to a degree. Jeremy found himself actually up on the stage, however astonishing that fact was to him. Jeremy cleared his throat and spoke positively. “It is imperative that I say I have never acted in any sort of dramatic presentation. Even though this is, as I under stand, to be a so-called amateur production, it would seem that some experience—” “Goody, you can start from (Continued on Page Eleven) ■ -- THIS CURIOUS WORLD | ■ MOST REPTILES LAV THEIR Eses ONI Z.AAO.. > 33 . ..WHILE AVDST AMPHIBIANS LAV THEIRS IN NUMEROUS ARCTIC INSECTS CONTINUE ACTIVE LIVING AT TEMPERATURES WELL BELOW THE FREEZING POINT. t . . IM WHOSE HONOR. ( WAS ROOSEVELT I DAM NAMED, AMD ( WHERE IS ITP J , ANSWER: Theodore Roosevelt, and it is located on the Salt liver in Arizona. BELA LANAN—.COURT REPORTER By L AUen Heinc Founded on Actual Court Reco rds and You Can Be the Judge ON TH0R WAV WME AFTER THE M0NTEZUMAW4TH OF JULY FIRE WORKS CARNIVAL,THE BOYS WERE FOLLOWED BY TWO BAP-LOOKING CHARACTERS! THEY FINALLY LOST THEM BY JUMPING A RAIL FENCE AND NOW.. AT MIDNIGHT..THESE TWO TWELVE-YEAR-OLD BOYS... 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A whole but bos- DID PAY'S WDPK AW HEWS WE HAVE A J the pay-off/ Swell t/me.'J® THE GUMPS T Land Of The Free -MIRACLE OF LOVE- fi IftPUiRKARi ft A MO OFFENSE,BUT H JKE MARKABU .E. \ l MUST SAT DAN IS J \ AAitiHT even \cup>d,m.d., has. 1 I SAf, M'RACULOVJS! \ PROVED TO BE A I 4 You seem To \ Better doctor 1 /MY friends, \ all& well\/ C'MOH, /YOU ARE <SaAZlMer WHAT ENDS \ &|)A 1 AT A OOYOOS MANA \WELL-tiOOD \IEt^ I MY TROUBLES \NNaHXLAD- \ SAY 1 ARE OVER- I'M MAY PLEASANT \sooy h OOURNBYINfe DOWN bREAMS CHASEUtAT %. the road to / each other. VZrX/ BRICK BRADFORD—Seeks the Diamond Doll ~ RiTwiin-Svii—, 7,, _ Ky William Ritt and Clarence Gray BRICK, THIS KNIFE MAY LEAD TO A GREAT ARCHEOLOGICAL FIND- WE WILL GO R/ TO THE CAVE IN THE MORNING ' ' JOE, I'D LIKE TO BORROW TWO OFJ SURF YOUR HANDS FOR A FEW DAYS - fPROFESSOR' ALSO I'D LIKE A SUPPLV OF \- PR‘. STRONS TIMBERS }-V I MY PLAN IS TO BUILD AND ANCHOR A WINDLASS ON THE CLIFF ED6E ABOVE THE CAVERN - SORT OF AN ELEVATOR TO AND FROM THE < - OAVF / „-- J •• tii JAT DAWN they set OIT WITH THElR PACK TRAIN! —
Wilmington Morning Star (Wilmington, N.C.)
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July 4, 1940, edition 1
10
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