Newspapers / Henderson Daily Dispatch (Henderson, … / Dec. 24, 1937, edition 1 / Page 12
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PAGE TWELVE COPYRIGHT; RELEASED BY CENTRAL PRESS ASSOCIATION CHAPTER ay SO UL CAME to our home at ruglit. My imagination nad seen it as we swept up to the door —the light streaming out; within a leap ing hie, a groaning hoard, eager hands to neip us: t My lawyer nau told me tliat there were a naif dozen laborers on the place, and the superinten dent, Hayes, and his wife, As we stopped in front of the house, 1 was clutched by a chill sense of impending disaster. The only illumination was a faint glim mer through a small, square pane. * The driver honked, a door opened, and a dark form emerged. “Is that you, Chandler?” a voice demanded. Resenting fiercely the familiar ity of the address, 1 answered “Yes.” The man came forward. “I’m Hayes, the superintendent.” 1 snook hands with him and pre sented him to Minn. “Glad to see you," he said. “My wife wants to know if your driver’s going to stay to supper ?” “No, he has to get back.” 1 helped Mimi out. Her un gloved hand as I touched it was cold. She had not spoken. The men behind us were busy with the bags. Tc t ether we crossed the lit tle poi'h and went through the open dc The r n v lie li we e" "ad was utterly tout charm, i -ere was no fireplace. A greal higii-shoul dereu stove gave out waves of heat which were grateful after the chill of the mountain air, but there was no glowing welcome of flames —only a sickly flicker of yellow and blue through the mica squares. ; The furniture was expensive but hideous —golden oak and raaroon brocade. The lamp on the table had a painted china shade. The pictures on the walls were col ored ph.togrcphs. Their flam boyant oinks and blues brought a rushing rr-ni ry of the little blonde wht had dined with Uncle Jerry at the Washington restau rant. At the far end of the room a long dining table was set for twe Above it hung a lamp with a char mechanism by which it could be raised or lowered. A plump wom an in a checked gingham dress was setting a huge platter on the table. She wiped her nands on her apron and came forward. “1 am Mrs. Hayes,” she said. “I told Flayes I’d better gU your supper. I thought Mrs. Chandler would be too tired to do anything herself.” My voice seemed to come from far off. “Where is the cook?” “There ain’t been any hired girl since your Uncle Jerry left. They’re hard to get • Ke had some Indian help. The men about the place cook for themselves, and I look after Hayes.” Again that far-off voice which was mine. “This is Mrs. Chandler. Mrs. Hayes. If you will show her to her room she can get ready for supper.” Without a glance at me, Mimi followed her. And I stood in that dreadful place, stunned by the im pact of realities. • The men brought in the bags Mrs. Hayes came back. The food was steaming on the table. “You’d 1 Merry Merry 1 1 8 I Christmas if Our wish is that Christmas may bring Happiness and Prosperity to you and that your house may be their dwelling place the livelong New Year through. Along with these wishes It us also offer our thanks to 's2 you for your patronage in the past. We hope that we have served you in such away that you will find it «E pleasant and profitable to give us your business in the future. Jjg I Ti: me- • s Market 1 § s MULES A I Solid Caroad I Just Received Choice yo r r Ttnrcrsee mules. One of the best lots we have ever had. Come in now and see them. Prices Are Right. Ralph and George Finch, Managers. % Detier nurry or things will get cold,” the good woman warned me. “I’ll call Mrs. Chandler.” 1 found it hard to speak. 1 went towards the room suo which Mimx had disappeared. The door was open. As 1 entered, 1 saw that there was a room beyond. The effect of both of the bedrooms was quiet and comfortable. The furni ture was walnut and the covers on the dressers and tables were snowy white. In the second room Mimi was unpacking feverishly, the bag which Mr. Hayes had brought. 1 stood on the threshold. “Mimi,” I said, and my tongue seemed thick, “supper is ready, my dear est.” She turned and faced me, and I saw then that the radiance, which had been hers, was gone. “1 am not dressed, Jerry,” she said. “You needn’t dress, my darling.” “Why not? I’ve always dressed for dinner, Jerry. Do you think I’m going to give it up—” her voice was tense; “do you think I am going to give it up . . . just because I am married? Just be cause you have dared to begin our married life with a . . . lie . . .?” “Mimi,” I implored, “it isn’t my fault. Uncle Jerry told me it was wonderful/’ “I know what he told. But you had no right to bring me here un til you knew the truth. If I had dreamed I would find this—” the wave of her hands seemed to in clude the room in which we stood and the dreadfulness beyond, “do y< i think I would have come?” She turned from me and began to lay out her things on the dresser —the crystal bottles and the silver brushes —“You’d better get ready, too, Jerry,” she said in a cool little voice. “Your bags are in the other room.” I don’t know what my superin tendent and his wife thought of us when we finally appeared. Mimi with her bare neck and bare arms, her wisp of train, the glit tering comb in her russet hair. I, miserable in my dinner jacket, drew out a chair for her. “We are sorry to be late,” I said, “but we had to freshen up a bit.” Mimi, too, apologized. “It is too bad you had to cook our dinner, Mrs. Hayes. We would have drought someone with us if we had kio -n.” xou might bring 'em, but they v n’t stay,” said Mrs. Hayes, p “The Indian wom en weren’t so bad. But you can’t get ’em any more for housework. The old ones are too old, and the young ones don’t like it.” She had kept the food hot in the kitchen, and again brought in the big platters. I was hungry and the fried beefsteak and hot bis cuit, the stewed cherries and ex cellent coffee had the effect of a feast to me. But Mimi ate little. She simply sat there, an incongruous, exotic figure. “Your coffee is delicious," she told Mrs. Hayes, “but I really don’t want anything else.” Mrs. Hayes, who had promised to be garrulous on first acquaint ance, seemed tongue-tied. She and her husband stole glances at Mimi, as they came back and forth on various errands, he to put wood in the stove—to build up the fires in the bedrooms; she, with relays of hot biscuits. When supper was over I found that Mr. and Mrs. Hayes expected to be sociable, so we all sat around the high-shoul- HENDERSON, (N. C.) C.) DAILY DISPATCH FRIDAY. DECEMBER 24, 1937 dered stove, and Hayes ana i smoked and talked of the ranen matters, while Mimi and Mrs. Hayes discussed, as l learned afterwards, domestic affairs. At last our guests rose. “1 told Mrs. Chandler to leave the dishes, and my daughter, Dora, will come over in the morning. I’d come, but it is baking day and 1 bake all my own oread. I’m going to send a few loaves to you. Dora ain’t much of a cook—but she can help with the hard work. And Mrs. Chandler dou’t look strong." “I am strong enough,” Mimi said, “but 1 am not very experi enced.” She was smiling, and a faint hope warmed my heart. At last we were alone. 1 came back from seeing the friendly cou ple to the door and found Mimi standing in front of the high-shoul dered stove. 1 put my arms around her. She shivered, but did not draw away, “My dearest," 1 said, “I am sorry . . . But we've got to make the best of it . . She gave me a little push and stood back. “If you hadn’t said that, Jerry, I—l mi&ht have for- ' given you. But there isn’t any best to make of it. If you had said, ‘Mimi, it is horrible. Tomor row we’U rim away . . But to morrow you expect me to . . . o talk to that awful Mrs. Hayes . . . and her daughter . . . I’ve never seen such people—Jerry. And there they sat and sat and sat— until I thought I should go mad. One can’t be ungracious in one’s own house. But . . . but you might have gotten rid of them. You might have told them I was tired. And—l don’t want to make the best of it, Jerry. There isn’t any best ” “My dear,” I said, “it is our home. And we are married.” She flung out her hands. “Oh, wouldn’t Mother crow over me— and Olga—and Andy ” I dropped my hands heavily on her shoulders. “Do you think,” 1 asked sternly, “that I care what your mother thinks, or Olga, or Andy, or anybody else in the whole wide world but yourself? I would rather have died than have had this happen. But it has happened. Mimi, this is our first night in our new home . . . are you going to shut your heart against me ... ?” For a moment she wavered, then she said. “I can’t talk about it. I only know that if we go on argu ing I shall say things that hurt you .. . and lam .. . tired. Per haps, in the morning, Jerry ... I can think better . . .” And so she left me, without a tender word, without a kiss. And I sat by the high-shouldered black stove and thought of the wide hearth of my dreams. I thought of Mimi, as my fancy had painted her, the mistress of my castle; I thought of the simple grace which my father had always said and with which I had hoped to bless the food served at our own table. And now my dreams were shat tered; my hopes were dead. If Mimi’s love had not survived this shock, it was not love as I knew it. In this lay the heartbreak. What cared I if the furniture was frightful, the pictures a blot on the walls, the high-shouldered stove a travesty on the leaping flames of my imagining. If Mimi had loved me, we could have laughed at it all, have surmounted all obstacles, have found bliss even against such a background. (To Be Continued) YOUR NAME. By Edgar Guest. You got it from your father. ’Twa i the best he had to give. And right gladly he bestowed it —it :s yours the while you live. You may lose the watch he gave yor and another you may claim, But remember, when you’re tempted to be careful of his name. It was fair the day you got it and a worthy name to wear: When he took it from his father there war? no dishonor there; Through the years he proudly wore it, to his father he was true, And the name was clean and spotless when he passed it on to you. Oh, there’s much that he has given that he values not at all, lie has watched you break your play things in the days when you were small, And you’ve lost the knife he gave you and you've scattered many e game, But you’ll never hurt your father, if you’re careful of his name. It is yours to wear forever; yours to wear the whi’e you live; Yours, perhaps, some distant morn ing to another boy to give; And you’ll smile, as did your father smile, a ove the baby there, If a clean name and a good name you arc giving him to wear. • —Selected. NOTICE. Pursuant' to autho - i V- con c^ro' 1 ii •‘•at co~tmin -t Furd'im Court of Vance Co** T Vv. In nroceea lng entitled, Bee Bullo<-: * T s E' ' S. Bullock, the underpinned oom-W'- s'oivr will offer for sale at mid-cay on Monday the 17th. of January 19 , at. courthouse door in Vance Coun v the highest bidder, for cash, at nubile outcry, a one one-half undivid o l Interest, in the following described onl property in Vance County, viz. Benin at a stake and two pointers in old road, Parker Bullock and Bur -P corne", and run thence along said a.d S TiO degrees W 38 poles to sta e r. H. Burwell corner; thence S 5 •ar-ees W 90 poles to 3 pines in Bur ' •VI line; thence S 65 degrees E 104 -ales to sourwood and pine, t T 10 W 151 poles to the be 'nn ng, containing 40 acres, more This 17th December, 1937. D. P. McDUFFEE, Commissioner. ■eacock Feathers Temp/e Bai/ey COPYRIGHT; RELEASED BY CENTRAL PRESS ASSOCIATION Vqjrfyy CHAPTER 40 I TOLD MYSELF that I had seen people happy in surroundings as primitive as ours; there were compensations in austere living; that my father ami mother had been content on their little farm. 1 forgot, you see, that I had not been content; that 1 had asked for something more than ideals and aspirations, i nad wanted iuxury, beauty, a life packed to the brim with vivid experience, and 1 had gone forth to find it. It was late when at last I rose and went out of doors. The moon was flooding the valley, turning the stream which writhed through it Into a silver serpent. The beauty was so intense that 1 was hurt by it, as if it mocked the ugliness of the things which man nad made. 1 felt that if Mimi were by my side, lifting her eyes to the hills, • there could be between us no bar rier or rancor or Ditterness. I wanted to call her, but I dared not. As 1 stood there, something brushed against me —a cold nose touched my hand. A great dog had come out of the shadows which struck athwart the house. He had been, 1 learned afterwards, my uncle’s pet. He was a collie, and his name was Jason. By some subtle instinct he seemed to know me at once as the new master. He stood panting beside me, his tail waving like a plume. 1 was glad to have him there. I had thought before he came that my loneliness was insupportable. The heavens had seemed empty, and the earth—and 1 a desolate atom in a desert of despair. Mimi and 1 ate breakfast the next morning under the amazed eyes of Dora Hayes. In a sort of daze of admiration she set on the table the hot rolls which her mother had sent over, the ham and fried eggs, a great bowl of fresh cherries. She had never, I am sure, seen anyone like Mimi, slim and white in short skirt and sweater, her hair an oriflamme in the morning sun. Dora’s youth was scrawny and freckled and towheaded and badly dressed. Yet, lam convinced she felt no jealousy of Mimi, she gloated over her rather, as a child gloats over some newly discovered treasure. Mimi played her part, as mis tress of the house, pleasantly. She asked if she might have an egg boiled instead of fried, and she ate cherries while she waited. “The cherries are from our own orchard,” I told her. Her eyes met mine coldly, “Are they?” “Y r 1 picked them. I’ve been out looking over the place.” I tried to speak easily. “It isn’t so bad.” Hot color flamed up into her cheeks, but she said nothing. And presently Dora came back with the egg, and Mimi asked her a question or two—whether her mother had really risen so early to bake the bread, and the name of the collie, who stood waving his plumed tail outside of the screen door. The collie. Dora said, had missed and mourned my uncle. “Mr. .Chandler had been traveling before he died, you know, and he didn’t live long after he came back here. Mother and 1 nursed him. And Jason never left him. He goes up the mountain every day and sits a long time by Mr. Chandler’s grave, and then he aeems- to be satisfied. And he al North Carolina WPA Aids Santa Claus bully IJiiipiitrh llurra it. In the Sir Walter Ilotrl. Haleigh, Dec.. 23. — toys were not made in Jana.n or in any other foreign country; nor are they displayed or for sale in any stores. North Carolina’s Works P ogress Administration has played assistant to Santa Claus and has created these and thousands of others in sewing rooms and furniture repair shops from scraps, leftovers, odds and ends, broken toys. All over the state all year, WFA has planned a merry Christmas, indeed, for thousands of underprivileged children whom ‘Santa’ otherwise might have forgotten. "I’m not fitted for this life.” ways stays in this house. We can’t get him to come to us—we don’t try any more . . “Let him in, Jerry,” Mimi said, and I rose and unlatched the screen. The big dog, with a flash of his eye for me, went straight up to Mimi and stood by her side, his ears cocked. He seemed to be waiting for her to make the first move in the affair of their friend ship. “Jason?” said Mimi, "I wonder why?” “Perhaps because of his golden fleece,” I ventured. The big dog still waited. “Jason?” Mimi said again, and this time it was an interrogation, “How much are you going to love me?” He gave a quick bark as if he understood and answered. It was his pledge of loyalty. He dropped down on the floor by her chair, laid his head on his paws, his bright eyes seeming to weigh us as he watched. Jason from that day was Mimi’s dog in away he was never mine; although he gave me an unwaver ing devotion. He became, , her guardian, the companion of her walks, her protector —there were times when I envied him the hoilrs he spent with her, and from which I was shut out. He followed us this morning when breakfast was finished, and we went out on the porch. I had said, “Come and look at our farm, Mimi,” and she had hesitated. But Dora’s eyes were upon us. She was clearing the table with much clattering of dishes. “You’d better put on your hat, Mrs. Chandler,” she volunteered, “you’ll get all freckled.” Mimi shook her head, “I love the sun.” Our house stood on the side of the mountain, with the ranch lands on the broad lower level which might, in prehistoric times, have formed the bed of some great Usually WPA officials give the value of a completed project, but “Toy making hasn’t been a WPA pro ject in the official and technical sense of the world,” explained State Administrator George W. Coan, Jr. “We have not appropriated funds for the enterprise. Scraps and time be tween regular activities have been utilized. I do not know the intrinsic value of these thousands of dolls and toys. It can be estimated by asking the question, “What is the value of a toy to a child who hasn’t one?” Many-of the toys will go to children of the parents who made them, WPA sewing rooms have also made, for river. The barns were red-painted like the house, the chickens and ducks gave a kaleidoscope effect of many colors at this distance, the pigeons snow-dotted the roofs. There were cows in the pasture, and men and horses in the wide meadows. Towards the west were the cherry orchards, their round topped trees like great bouquets; beyond the orchards a neighboring mountain rose silver-crested against a sapphire sky. I wanted to say, “God made it,” as my father had so often said, when we worshiped beauty. But I lacked the courage to speak my thoughts to Mimi. I had my first sharp sense of a point of diver gence in our ideals. What I said was, “Mimi, doesn't all this make up a bit for the house?” She did not look at me. “Jerry, nothing can make up. I’m not fitted for this life. I don’t know where to begin . . .” ’ Something seemed to die in me Through the darkness which had fallen upon me I tried to grope my way back to the words of that radiant ceremony, “For better or for worse . . . for richer . . . for poorer . . .” Mimi had never meant them. She had said she could not be poor. And I, knowing how she felt, had urged her to perjure her self with a promise. Well, I wouldn’t hold her to it. I spoke with an effort—“l have no right to ask you to stay, Mimi.” She turned on me her startled glance, “What do you mean?” “I thought it all over last night. The best thing we can do is to go back to St. Louis.” “But we can’t go back!” “Why not?” “Do you think 1 could face them? No. We’ll stick it out somehow. I couldn’t bear to have my friends know how 1 had been —fooled.” (To Be Continued) children of relief families having no funds for Christmas,. warm garments, jackets, caps, coats, rompers for little tots, dresses for little girls and pants for boys. NYA workers have bent most of their . efforts in contributing to the happiness of >the season by recondi tioning discarded toys. They are be ing distributed by various civic and welfare agencies throughout the state. Thank heaven for that news item which predicts the current style of women’s hats will soon pass. We’ve exhausted the supply of jokes we’vs been able to think up about them. NOTICE OF SUMMONS BY l*im UCATION SPECIAL , PROCEEDING. State of JVorth Carolina- County of Vance: Ola Clark Ivey, Petitioner. Wlrmie eia,!; 1i,,,b hl , W. Harris; Belle c n , u * { ’; husband, Luther Duncan; j„j ln lonay and wife, Jennie Bu<-i, * Holloway, s. M. kToI, '"fc''" Knott, Buck Kmtt, Rob«rt i! M. band of Ola Clark I vey Jh lloToway, Respondents. m,e The respondents, Winnie Clark u is and husband, G. W. Harris, BoUp ' Du "™ n and bus and, Luther Dun m. John HaVoway and wife j orm ? Li chan nan Hollaway, Buck Knott’ J.mrme Iloltoway, and Henry t ’Powell, Guardian Ad T Lorn for « „ Cnot.t and Mildred Knott, will take lotire that action entitled as abov! j°® becn in the Superior ■ourt of Vance Counly, North Coro •n-n.’o sell lands for pa-tition Z Vision; and the respondents will fur her take notice that they are required o appear at the Office of the CW? ;f the Sunerio” Court of .said Count* ” 2°n Co V rlhouse in Henderson -orth Carolina, on the 4th dav nf r 'inuary, 19?8, and answer or demur 1 o petition .n said action, or the e'l'icner will apply to the Court for o : e’def demanded. r This the 3rd day of December 1937 E. O. FALKNER Vance Clerk o-f The Superior’ Court. P. Wyche, attorney *’ Petitioner. NOTICE. Having qna’ified as executor of the J?*”. ClM*. deceased, " : 1 7?" nty - North Carolina; this is to notify all persons having claims against the estate of said de" eeased to exhibit them to the under signed or his Attorney at Henderson N. C.. on or v efore the 13th. day of November, 1938, or this notice will be pleaded in bar of their recovery All persons indebted to said estate will please made immediate payment This 19th day of November. 1937 JIMMIE HOLIX3WAY Executor of the Estate of Mrs. Ida Clark. B. P. Wyche, Attorney. NOTICE. North Carolina: Vanco County Helen Burrows Gentry, Plaintiff, vs. Robert Henry Gentry. Defendant. The defendant, Robert Henry o n . try, will take notice: That an action entitled as above, ha? be n n com menced in the Surer, r Court of Vance County, North Carolina, for the purpose of sco«rir.- ; an absolute divorce upon the grounds of separa tion, and the said clef .’-id---.it will fur h.-r take notice, th it requitf*. ■ j.) j tar at the of.* of th. Cl.vk ..f S p ?ior Court ot >-a .1 Cui'v m the "uu* thouse in Hendor» u N C., on the 3rd day of January, h)3B, ar.O an swer or demur to the romni-unt in said action, or the pV.rtiff will appy to the court for th-: r< -*ef dcn-nd-i! in said complaint. This 3rd day of I'?.’iinln-r, 1937. E. O FALK NEE. C. S. C. Va:-co County. NOTICE OF SALE. Under and *.-y vtrtue of the powe v and authority contained in a Deed of Trust executed by W. E. Walker and wife, Virginia P. Walker, recorded in the office of the Register of Deeds of Vance County, in Book 181, at pag;> 516, default having been made in the payment of the debt therein secured, at the request of the holder of the note, I shall sell at public auction, to the highest bidder, for cash, at the Courthouse door in Henderson, N. C., at twelve o’clock, Noon, on Friday, January 21, 1938, the following de scribed real estate: TRACT ONE: Begin at a stake on the South side of the Townesvillc- Clarksville road, Burwell corner, and run thence along said road, South 89 degrees 66 minutes West 6.25 chs. to corner of Larcena Stark dower; thence along her line S 5 deg. 30 min utes West 4.17 chains; thence West 29.56 chains; the edge of mill pond; thence along the meanders of said pond in a northerly direction 26 chs., more or less, to double sycamore, dower corner; thence and continuing on road, South 74 1-2 deg. East 13.13 chains to corner on road; thence I 42 deg. 45 minutes E 5.5 chains; thence N 51 deg. 15 min. W 16 1-2 chains, thence S 39 3-4 deg. W 5.6 chains; thence N 60 3-4 deg. W 1.3 chains to a creek; thence down the said Creek in a northerly direction 9.4 chains, thence S 39 deg. 15 min. W 11-3 chs.; thence S 85 deg. W 1 chain; thence s 78 1-2 deg. W 4 chains, thence S <9 deg. W 5 chains; thence N 75 deg. W'. 2.5 chains; thence N 82 deg. » 7.8 chains to Big Island Creek; thence up the said creek in a southwestcr > direction 5.95 chains to an ashe; thence S 11 deg. W 17.8 chains; thence S 3 deg. W 9.74 chains; thence S 2 deg. 30 min. W. 16.35 chains to pile stones, Peck’s corner and cornc '’. 234 acre tract of parties of the f l l part; thence S 87 deg. E 73.30 chains, thence N 30 deg. 30 min. East 4 chas. to Hickory in edge of woods 0 ravine- thence along the said i' av * in a southeasterly direction • chains; thence N 18 deg. E. 33 chains, thence N 78 deg. W 11.4 chains; thcnc N 18 deg. E 16 1-4 chains to the pi<>c_ of beginning, containing 379.1 acre more or less. TRACT TWO: Begin at a rock P-i- Feck’s corner and corner of f°i tract and run thence N 86 deg. * “ chains to a stone; thence N -0 ( 15’ W 33 1-2 chains to Big Is*' Creek; thence up said Creek as _ meanders in a westerly direction chains to hornbeams; thence - deg. 30 min. 29.51 chs.; thence: S deg. 45’ E 31 chs. to post oak; the S 30 deg. 15’ E 25 1-2 chains to ston in edge of ravine; thence along • ravine in a southeasterly dn cc 12.25 chains to stone; thence S W » „ E 1.62 chs. thence N 69 deg. 15 j 19.8 chs. to a gum; thence N M /deg. W 14.4 chs.; thence N ™ 10 chs.; thence N 47 1-4 deg. E 4 thence N 28 3-4 W 2.87 chs.; thence 18 1-2 deg. E 15 1-2 chs. to the po - of beginning containing ‘ d I more or less, Also all right, ti _ interest that parties of the firstJ ' have in land allotted to Mrs. La Stark as dower on February 1 • containing 61 acres more or less- This 18th day of December l»f*- T. P. GHOLSON, Trustee.
Henderson Daily Dispatch (Henderson, N.C.)
Standardized title groups preceding, succeeding, and alternate titles together.
Dec. 24, 1937, edition 1
12
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