Newspapers / The Franklin Press and … / Feb. 27, 1936, edition 1 / Page 5
Part of The Franklin Press and the Highlands Maconian (Franklin, N.C.) / About this page
This page has errors
The date, title, or page description is wrong
This page has harmful content
This page contains sensitive or offensive material
URSDAY, FEB. 27, 1936 THE FRANKLIN PRESS AND THE HIGHIiANDS MACONIAN PAGE FIVE Ishbel L TODAY onii ■SEVENTH INSTALLMENT girl had passed from frenzy I maudlin collapse. She was Sering as her protector dragged i firmly through the door. Down I companionway and along the ^idors they staggered, the older Lan moving with intent and de- I'C steps. At last they reached 'in’s cabin and the girl flopped lier bed. Miss Mudge bent down 5 drew off her slippers and Ikings. She made her sit up le she pulled her flowered ffon frock over her head. Blush- !. vaguely when she saw how Ht- |she wore, she gingerly drew f.the scrap of lace that seemed Jibe all of her under-clothing. lovely she was! Miss Mudge it into her wardrobe and found Nightdress—of silk so soft that i could crush it in pne hand. H fragrant and sweet as acacia isom. ^omfy now?” she asked. ;Oan*s reply was an incoherent fsper. jliss Mudge kissed her and ted her up, di?nly touched by j helpless state. Then s'he found i way to her own bed in the |kness, for she could not bear j light just then. Her numbness L slowly passing and she was jiing out o'f a fog, aware at ; that something terrible had jpened to her in the captain s -irters. In a full iblaze of con- jusness she buried her face in f hands and sobbed. Miss Fost- ■ wild and drunk and beautiful, ,1 told the truth and stripped ■ to shreds, right down to the fiul foundation of her cotton ■htgown and her crimped fringe, diss Mudge was seeing things ,as ..y were, and she felt alone and :aid, in a vast hall that stretch- tio infinity, a hall lined with jhing mirrors that reflected :r and over again the cheapness all her belongings. A week ago had felt so chic. And the kiss ■m Mr. Charlton—an act of pity! at had been cheap, too. Her :e was drained of life. For hours ; lay on her bed without mov- rhe cocktail party went on, :h the guests making fever-fth orts to cover up the disappear- :e of Miss Mudge and Joan. ,ly Dick went out, after catch- ; the eye of the captain. Angela )ok herself clear of the horrpr ;■ had gone through. Zaptain Baring took out his violin d settled it tenderly ■under chin. He played for them, :tly, Grieg and Bach. Angela sat tranced—not so much by the isic as by the. strange man who :nt lonely nights on the bridge d could wring such feeling from i violin. When he had finished, was still remote, as if his lying was a form of self-in- Igence that he did not care to are with others. He listened to eir compliments absent-mindedly d left them without a word. Miss Mudge left the Marenia at n Francisco. She was pale and >re her glasses. Her fringe was •aight and she had given her ■anish shawl to her stewardess. 1 of her vanities had been laid ide for her mind worked clearly w, with everything lOUt in the en. After her tips had ibee;a paid, e had «ight dollars left and her ilway ticket to Ohonto. lhat was at! She had travelled forty thou- nd miles but had failed to see e world. She had spent her life’s vings and would have to begin over again. Another twenty ars with Agatha before it was ne for them to retire on their nsions. Her dull life lay over r like a shade. Bravely she ipped [do'w'n the gangplank, .owing that glamour was only empty word. She was sure at ;t that there was only one here in which she could move. :reafter she would keep her ngs clipped to her surroundings, d her thoughts close to the ound. She had avoided Dick since the cktail party. He had sent her a te, kind and detached, telling r that she must forget every >rd Miss Foster had said. It was now among her souvenirs—a red balloon, a swizzle-stick, a cheap little Tartagra from Athens, a small carved god, her Jordan water, some gala favours, her autographed menus, a snapshot of hirn at Kandy. That was all. It was good-bye. The people with whom she had chatted on deck and at table, ex changing addresses and promising lifelong friendship, had been too busy with their own affairs to notice her undistinguished depar ture. There were two exceptions. Mrs. Wynant had been cordial, in viting her to visit her home in England, and Miss Arundel had kissed her warmly, promising to send her some wedding cake. Miss Mudge fluttered along the pier. She had to get through the customs, but pain was fogging her vision, and the dragging weight deep in her inside, was getting worse each minute. For twenty years she had looked for ward to her trip around the world. Now it was over, and she had nothing. She stumbled against a trunk and wiped the tears from her eyes. It was too late for her to see that Dick was watching her as she wandered with uncertain steps among the packing-cases on the wharf. His glance was kind, but he was tSinking that it was I'ar, far (better for Miss Mudge to be step ping back into her lustreless frame at Ohonto, Wisconsin. He had avoided Miss Mudge since the cock tail par.ty, but only because she seerried to be keeping deliberately out of his way, and he had taken his cue from her. There was noth ing be could say to her, nothing at all. The orchestra was playing. Its languid notes came drifting up from the ballroom. Patty’s hand stole through Johnny’s arm. He squeezed it 'hard. “Good kid!” he whispered, and kissed the tip of her ear. Patty sighed. “I love the swish of the sea in my ears. Life will seem so quiet, Jo'hnny, when we’re on land again.” “Life is just opening ,up for Patty,” said Angela, watching her affectionately. “I hope there’s something in Johnny, for Patty is a fine girl,” Macduff declared. “I think there is, Macduff. You’re a little hard on the young.” “Intolerable puppies, all cheek and ignorance!” Angela laughed. “I’ve got rather fond of those two. I shall always wonder .about them. When yiou’re thrown together on a trip like this, and share the sort of things that we have shared, you get more at tached to people than you would in thirty years at home.” “I wonder what’s happened to the Langford woman,” said Macduff, ir relevantly. “She’s probably not with Rum- ford by now, but she did all the damage she could while she was on the iboat. She comes from New York, does,n’t she? You may run into her some time.” “Angela,” Macduff bent over, “would you ever want to live in New York?” “Never.” Dick Charlton took off his jacket and put on his dressing-gown, he lighted his pipe and sat down at his desk to read. A knock at the door. He opened it wide, and found Joan standing outside, the strap of her satin frock slipping down over her arm, and her wild green eyes ablaze with light. Dick grew’pale but con trolled himself. He couldn’t. forget what this devilish girl had done to Miss Mudge. ' “What do yiou want?” he de manded. “I want to speak to you, Dick. I want to tell you I’m sorry. I swear I didn’t mean to hurt her—or you. I swear I didn’t.” “Joan, I hope never to see you again as long as I live.,” said Dick, in a voice that stung like a lash. “Oh, oh, Dick, you can’t mean it I You can’t have forgotten our night together.” “I’ve forgotten everything except your unkindness.” The door moved in 'her face. “No, no, Dick, don’t do that!” She was looking at the closed door. He had meant it, then. It was all over with Dick, who had seemed for a brief space to find her desirable. She knocked at the door again. There was no response. She would go to the bar. An ho.ur later Joan was on her way to the top deck again, wdth the vague idea of having a plunge to cool herself off. That idiot Mac duff was standing at the top, star ing down at her. Now would be as good an occasion as any to tell him what she thought of him. There were times when Joan burned to express her true opinion of some of her fellow passengers and here was a good chance. “Looking for Mrs. Wynant?” she enquired, reeling up against him. “That’s funny.” She laughed on a ])iercing note. Macduff regarded her with disgust. “I don’t like your looks,” said Joan, “and I don’t like the way you’re staring at me now. Who do you think you .are, anyway? You’re scarcely human.” She prodded him in the ribs. Macduff did not move. “But I like the way you can drink.” She grew confidential. “Let’s have a brandy together. Come . to my room.” “No, thanks.” “All right, big boy. Joan’s going to have a swim.” She made a gamin gesture and followed a twisting course to the pool. Macduff watched her, wonder ing if she weren’t tipsy enough to drown. What an appalling girl! Even ibefore she had reached the door she stooped down, caught her frock at the hem and began to pull it over her head. He could see her long, slim legs. The pool was dark, except for the green light in the far corner. Her dress came off and was flung to the floor; then she spread her arms for ;a dive. He caught a glimpse of her gleaming back in the second before she jumped. He waited for the splash, hoping that it would sotoer her up. It was his duty to see that she didn’t drown. But no splash came. Only a dull crash that sickened Macduff and hurried his footsteps through the door that Joan had entered. God in Heaven, the tank was drained! For a moment he shut his eyes, then leaned over the edge to look. The green light spread its sickly suffu sion, and there, on the tiles, lay Joan. She was naked except for her beads, garters, stockings and sandals. One of her stockings was halfway down. -Her arms were spread like wings. Her face he could not see. It was crushed on the tiles. Slowly he realized that the girl must be dead. Through a mist he^saw her dress lying on the floor beside him, flame red, still warm from her body. There was no other trace of her, not a scrap of underwear. She had died as reck lessly as she had lived. ' The ship was heaving gently, rocking her white bo'dy. On every deck people were packing for land ing. No one could know that he was standing here alone, guarding a lifeless form. He must do something about it. He must start" the horrible chain -of machinery moving. Two girls dead across his path! Jenny in the China Sea and the click of her heel on his wall, Jo.an with her brains dashed out before his eyes. He had sworn to avoid all human contact, yet fate had caught him twice in the orbit of death. Was it punishment for vowing that he would travel alone and apart? Were people not intended to avoid one another .and the burden of mutual care ? Had he heen ducking life and had Angela to.uched his sensibilities at last? Was there something els-e that one must heed besides the in violability of one’s solitude and the warmth of a glass of whisky? Mac duff’s strong Highland sense of superstition was aroused. Sweat stood on his brow. Thoughts flowed through his mind in molten masses. The numbness of forty years was wearing off, and each nerve was a red-hot needle, coming to life and pricking his flesh. But the moments were flying. (Concluded Next Week) IFRANK PARKER RUBBER itself Back in 1911 I met a great Ck-r- man scientist, Dr. Duisberg, who showed me a set of tires he had made for the Kaiser’s car, from artificial rubber of his own inven tion. il asked him how he did it. “It’s perfectly simple,” he replied. “It’s done by the polymerization of isoprene.” Which left me right where I was at the start. Since then thousands of others have tried to' make rubber syn thetically. Some have got better re sults tlian others, but nobody yet has produced a rubber substitute that answers all the purposes of natural rubber and costs no more. An American company has pro duced something that works, but it is too expensive for ordinary use. The latest report from Ciermany is that a synthetic rubber superior to the natural article is being made from petroleum. That is doubted by practical rubber men. Some day, however, somebody will turn the trick. BUDDAH .... gepgraphy The sect of Buddhists who live in Tibet regard their high'priest, the “Dalai Lama” as their spiritual and temporal ruler. When he dies, they believe, his soul enters the body of a newborn babe, who at once be comes the Dalai Lama. The last Dalai Lama died in De cember, 1933, and ever since then the Tibetans have been hunting for a child born at the instant of his death. They have no't found one, and have about decided to accept the spiritual overlordship of anoth er Lama, the “Panchan Larna,” who has been an exile in China for twelve years. That may result in putting China in a position to control the mys terious land on the Himalayan pla teau, and so expand westward while Japan is slicing off Chinese territory in the North. Little things often have great consequences. Nobody can guess what is going to happen in Asia, ibut the failure of the Tibetans to find a baby born just at'the right time may change the geography of a nation. LIAR honiored The town of Bodenwerden, in Germany, has bought the house in which Baron Munchausen, the world’s most famous liar, used to live. He was born there 216 years ago. and won fame for the “tall stories” which he used to tell about his adventures as a soldier and a hunter. One of his listeners wrote down some of the baron’s yarns and sold them to a London .book publisher, who printed them in 1785. Since then the noble name of Hieronymus Karl Friederich, Frie- herr von Munchausen, has been a synonym for “liar” throughout the English-speaking world. Lately there has been a revival of interest in the type of obviously exaggerated or impossible tales such as Baron Munchausen t,tild. But the technique is different. Baron Munchausen’s stories are not thrilling enough for j'oung people who read the “Tarzan” stories and delight in the adventures of “Buck Rogers.” LANGUAGE .... lour own It would .be a monotonous world if everybody looked alike, thought alike, dressed alike and spoke alike. 1 have long felt that we were get ting too completely standardized, and 1 am glad to hear the voice of Professor Hoffman of Boston Uni versity raised in defense of variety in speech and accent. “If everybody talked with the 'precision of a radio announcer,” Professor Hoffman said the other day, “our common speech wo.uld be lacking in charm, vitality and the human touch.” I hope none of the attempts of pedants and p'urists to make every body speak alike will ever destroy the warm fluency of the accents of the South, or deprive New lingland of its short-vowelled, clipped" stac cato speech. One of my fads for years has been to try to tell where a person was “raised” by listening to him or her speak. I am seldom more than a state or two out of the way. TAXES dupes I^verybody pays taxes, but not everybody knows it. Nothing is more certain than tliat the tenant pays the landlord’s taxes. If he didn’t, the landlord would go broke. Politicians make it a point to teil the average man that he doesn’t pay taxes. They like to pose as “Rabin Hoods,” taking money from the rich to help the poor. The most absurd example of that which I have heard of comes from Anna polis, Maryland, where the public authorities have announced that any landlord who is charging what they regard as too high rents will have the assessment on his property raised, which will mean that he will have to pay more taxes—and get them where every landlord has to get his taxes, out of his tenants. Some day, ]>erhai)S, everybody will realize that it is the ultimate consumer who pays all the taxes in the long run. When that day comes, the “man in the street” may be more watchful about the spend ing of tax money by public officials. We Carry a Full Line of Farm Machinery Chattanooga Plows Disc Harrows Genuine Plow Repairs A Wide Range of Other Equipment See Us Before You Buy— We Will Save You Money We Have a Complete Line of Grass Seed Maeon County Supply Co. FRANKLIN, N. C.
The Franklin Press and the Highlands Maconian (Franklin, N.C.)
Standardized title groups preceding, succeeding, and alternate titles together.
Feb. 27, 1936, edition 1
5
Click "Submit" to request a review of this page. NCDHC staff will check .
0 / 75