AT THE MOVIES
__IN CHERRYVILLE
LESTER Thurs.-Fri.—Jack Carson and Jane Wyman in
the Comedy—“Make Your Own Bed”
ONE DAY only—Sat. at The LESTER—Action Thrills in
“The Last Ride”—Richard Travis, Eleanor Parker
STARTS L- S- Sun. Nite “White Cliffs of Dover’
With Irene Dunne, Alan Marshal
Alan Marshal and Irene Dunne in a tender scene from "The White Cliffs
* of Dover," inspiring story based on Alice Ducr Miller’s famous poem.
WOOD TAKES TRUCKS & PARTS TO AFRICA
m *
1
mm
fc (Official Signal Corpi Photograph)
American soldiers uncrating truck parfi, Casablanca, French
Morocco. Your trees will furrprS lumber to crele material like this.
r nd <- -• '
BUY MORE WAR BONDS AND STAMPS
T FLICHT
LOVE
H ARLES SPALDI
OTIS CARNEY %
CHAPTER III
Barred from the Navy’s V-7
program because he lacked two
years of college math, Lester
Dowd tries to enlist in the Coast
Guard but is turned down be
cause of a “facial squint. Ihe
doctor refuses even to examine
him. Commander Whitman, an
old firend of the family, endeav
ors to get a waiver for Lester so
he can join V-7, but after weeks
of waiting Lester learns they still
insist on two years of college
math. He is successful in joining
the V-5 Naval Aviation and is
sent to Anacostia Naval Base.
The instructions went on in the
same chilly vein to explain the
arrangement of articles about the
washbasin.
“Towels will be stowed in lock
er. Washcloth will be hung on
gooseneck.”
The gooseneck, reflection made
it plain, was the nub of things. I
didn’t know what the gooseneck
was. There had been up to this
moment no reason for traffic with
goosenecks. If basins wanted to
go around in goosenecks it was
perfectly all right with me. They
could wear slacks if they wanted.
I approached the mate of the
deck on the subject.
After almost choking to death
on a lump of bubble gum the
size of a tennis ball, he arose un
steadily from his seat, still suffer
ing from shock, took my hand
and led me ceremoniously to the
“This is the hot water.”
“This is the hot water,” I re
peated as if reciting after nurse,
Chapter One in the Big Animal
Book.
“This is the stopper.”
“This is the stopper.”
Then leaning over he pointed
underneath at an iron intestine.
“And that’s the God-damned
gooseneck!” he shouted.
Once things were on a friendly
footing with the plumbing, 1
turned to the stowing of belong
ings in the bureau and then wait
ed for inspection. Except that my
khaki shirts were cozily snuggled
next to my black socks in the sec
ond drawer, instead of under my
shorts in the third drawer, all was
well until a fine interpretation of
the rules turned success into dis
aster. The boudoir booklet stated
in its intimate way: “Toilet ar
ticles shall be stowed in the top
drawer. Bottom drawer shall be
reserved for miscellaneous.”
My equipmen was well housed
in a shaving kit, which I placed
without much thought in the top
During- inspection Ensign Fitch
browsed around the bureau. Op
ening the top drawer he came
across the shaving kit.
"My God," he screamed,
“What’s this doing here?’'
“I have my shaving things in it
sir, and the rules—”
“I don’t care if you have a
skull in it!’’ he bellowed. “All kits
are regarded as miscellaneous in
the Navy and so stored in the
bottom drawer. This is a final
warning."
The next day Lieutenant Sands
U. S. M. S. had the inspection.
Coming to my bottom drawer he
stepped away as if he had found
his wife at the Astor.
“My God!’’ he shrieked. “What
is this shaving kit doing in the
bottom drawer?”
“A kit is a kit sir, and the rules
state—’’
“I don’t care. It has shaving
things in it and as such should
be stowed in the top drawer.
This is your final warning."
Semper fidelis!
The only way I kept myself out
of trouble was by answering.
“Well, Ensign Fitch says . . ."
or, “But Lieutenant Sands says."
The showdown came when the
men arrived together for Satur
day’s grand inspection. The kit
was in the first drawer.
“My God!” shrieked Fitch
“Again.”
“I told him to put it there,”
said the lieutenant.
“You did, Mr. Sands?” Mr.
Fitch was incredulous. “After
all your training.”
“A study of Rule 13, sub-head
2, will disclose that shaving
equipment properly goes in the
first drawer,” said the Marine ac
idly.
I winced. The loser would cer
tainly salve his wounded pride at
my expense.
“So it does.” Fitch was jocular.
Great fighters, the Marines. Al
ways gave a good account of them
selves. Unquestionably, well dis
ciplined, but you couldn’t expect
Navy insight or finesse from such
men.“A kit, old man, is a kit,”
he kindly declaimed. “If you put
your hands in your shoes that
doesn’t make them gloves, does it
He drove the point home with this
mental nail. "The kit goes in the
bottom drawer," he said imperi
ously.
“And if you fill a potato sack
with apples you still sell them ov
er the apple counter.” The Halls
of Montezuma rang with the
challenge. “The kit goes in the
first drawer,” said Sands, folding
his arms and looking toward Trip
oli.
Ensign Fitch was shaken by
the last charge.
“Do you really think it goes in
the first drawer*’ he asked, ad
mitting the need of discussion.
“I’m not sure at all,” said the
lieutenant, giving a little ground
himself. “It’s the most ticklish is
sue I’ve had to face in the ser
vice."
“Couldn’t the Skipper handle
this? Captain’s mast or some such
—the Ensign grasped for straws.
“What do you think, Dowd?”
asked Fitch, remembering that an
occasional gleam of intelligence
shone in the ranks.
“It seems to me, sir,” I said
straining every muscle to stay off
the report, “that it is neither
besh nor fowl and should be
stowed in the middle drawer with
the underwear.”
“No compromising,” snapped
Lieutenant Sands.
“Remen ber Munich,” added
Ensign titch.
Both were gallant gentlemen.
“L suppose it will have to go to
Washington?” I asked.
“That's it,” cried Fitch. “The
Bureau!”
“The Bureau!” cried Mr. Sands
Both men swore to see the
thing through, come hell or big.
“Where shall I stow it for the
next inspection?” 1 hoped the
closet would do until the heat was
otf, but they left me to shift for
myself. Shaving under these cir
cumstances had become too much
of an ordeal. At first I was for
throwing the kit into the Potomac
like Excalibur and going otf on
the magic barge with Singing
Sam, the Barbasol Man. The
choice ultimately fell between a
guaranteed depilatory or the new
electric razor with four blades
that made twenty-five hundred
contacts with the beard per sec
ond. I settled for the latter. It
went in the gear room with the
vacuum cleaner, and there were
no questions asked.
Following Fie midday meal, the
mail was parceled out in the bunk
room. The Divine Plan provided,
according to some, a particular
of the post proved the scheme
girl for every male, and a study
was making headway. Every man
was equipped with a number-one
woman who wrote to him on an
average of every other day. He
might hear occasionally from any
number of satellites, but these
were held of no account because
in their turn they each were har
nessed to an opposite for whom
they regularly tilled reams of
pink paper.
Sometimes, as with “Sheep”
Morgan, this routine was carried
to beautiful extremes. “Sheep”
played Apelard to a pretty thing
who put out at a rate of two let
ters a day. She printed her name
and address, “Miss Pat Clarendon
205 Hollyhock Avenue, River
Valley, Va.” At the top of each
effort, which looked suspiciously
like a large scale advertising
scheme to the skeptics. They ar
gued that Morgan, the calalier.
unless he had a mind like a sieve
must have known the whereapouts
of his lovely. In the end, howev
er, a correspondence that was es
timated in tonnage proved her fi
delity, and the inevitable name i
the left-hand corner was taken t
be one of those unaccountab).
“little things” that made him love
Miss Clarendon’s regular ex
pressions of passion were scented
with a gas that screamed, not
whispered, “A woman is passing
by,” and if the manufacturers
gave this a name it might have
been “L’Audace*.” The letters
themselves were never brief, sim
ple notes recapturing illusory sen
sations born of the heart’s yearn
ing. Her billets-doux came under
the heading of freight. They were
essays, wrist-thick, that described
in studied detail the condition of
a soul that suffered exquisitely
twenty-four hours a day. “Sheep’s
effect -was cyclonic. The sweet
sickness consumed her like a
Nessus shirt. He had reduced the
poor girl, if the length and fre
quency of her letters were any
indication, to round-the-clock re
cording of her love-drugged be
ing.
“Sheep, my dearest,” she in
variably opened, lerfding a rock
ing chair melancholy to the flood
of tender introspection that fol
lowed. “This morning before
breakfast 1 feel electric-you
currents running through me.”
By high noon there was usually
a violent turn for the worse.“The
thunder that is my own Sheep
peals within me,” she wrote as
all hell broke loose.
The afternoon .journal which
carried well into the night descri
bed post-matin developments. In
the evening she knew compara
tive peace as he came to her “in
an April way,” but if the
moon, in any stage of its cyclical
development, showed in the sky,
her prose uissolved into a baleful
Sheep read these volumes as
solemnly as if they were copies
of the Volstead Act. Then, con
vinced that he still possessed the
same old wham, he prepared to
compose some himself. Unlike his
beloved, Sheep did not burn con
tinuously, but by staring at her
picture for varied periods of time
he could flare up at will. Fired by
this Yogi-like exercise, he was
able to match her stormy recitals
as our training progressed. I
thought he was forced to wait
longer and longer for inspiration
I often wondered if he would not
be turned into stone before her
image while she perished from
malnutrition, and they both lived
on, a lovely legend in the Air
Corps. However, he married her
secretly one week-end, and it is
probably much prettier that way.
The six weary weeks of prelim
■ inary ground school finally passed
and one morning before daybreak
we were herded Into a requisi
tioned bus and driven to the fly
ing field. The overland route
passed right through the heart of
Anacostia, a little suburb of the
city, wound around the Maryland
countryside and ended up at a
dismal plot of land known as
“Hyde Field.’’ I took a seat right
behind the driver, an enlisted
man who was spurred on to mad
der and madder things by wild
cries of exhortation from the
cargo.
“C’rnon, fearless,” they holler
ed at the helmsman, whose driv
ing had become legend. “You can
get sixty out of her, boy.”
“Pass' him, Fearless, he's hold
ing up the war effort.”
Fearless was a sensitive but
dynamic individual who felt the
passage of time as keenly as if
it were hot lead "running down
' is back. Taking advantage of
tetraethyl gasoline, sixteen cyl
nder motors, and capitalizing
in general on the age’s advances,
he strove to catch up with the
Grim Reaper. A suspicion that he
was losing made him redouble his
efforts. He tore through intersec
tions, paid no heed to stop signs,
and careened down the highway
as if he had a rendezvous with
death. I wasn’t prepared for this
sort of thing so soon after break
fast, and clawed at the seat cov
er as the bus roared down a
steep grade. Fearless, realizing he
was giving one of his four-star
performances, turned back to me
“Some ride, eh, Mack?” he
said delightedly, using the Navy’s
informal “thou.”
“Some ride, Jack, 1 agreed
through clenched teeth.
“I really make her dance, dont
I Mack”—he added another burst
of throttle.
“You really make her dance,
Jack.”
“Jeez,” muttered Tim Carpen
ter, as he was wont during peri
ods of great strain.
We rushed on a sharp corner.
There was a screeching of brakes
an uncertain moment on two
wheels, then a triumphant racing
turn into Hyde Field, and twm
blasts on the horn to announce
us.
Fearless looked at his watch.
“Forty seconds off my record,”
to fight, Mack, but, by God, I'll
he swore. “They say I’m too old
see you hoys don’t lose any of
your flying time.”
“Bless you, Jack,” I murmur
ed. pulling myself together.
“Keep ’em flying, Mack,” and
off he raced.
Fearless disappeared over one
hill as the sun’s red rim edged
above another. The outline of the
field emerged in the early morn
ing light, and down at the far
nd the mechanics began tuning
' e planes up.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
'edical Society To
Meet November 8th
The Seventh District Medi
al Society will meet in Albe
marle on Wednesday afternoon,
November 8th, at 4 o’clock. The
meeting will be held in the Edu
cation Building of the First Lu
theran Church with the banquet
at Hotel Albemarle at 7:30 P. M.
Dr. H. C. Whims, of Newton,
will speak on “Poliomyelitis”—
An Acute Emergency and Dr. L.
A. Crowell, Sr., of Lincolnton
will give the Response to the Ad
dress of Welcome.
Major John McKee, Moore
General Hospital, Swannanoa,
will give a scientific address
“Psychiatric Casualties of the
Present War.”
Remove lightning struck or
other damaged pines from the
farm woodland to prevent beetle
attacks, says R. W. Graeber, Ex
tension forester at State College.
ALKA-SELTZER
BRIGHTENS
MY DAY
^ /IIW II •
Occasionally, i wake up in
the morning with a Headache.
It sometimes wears off along the
middle of the forenoon, but I don't
want to wait that long, so I drink a
glass of sparkling ALKA-SELTZER.
In just a little while I am feeling a
lot better.
Sometimes the week’s ironing tires
me and makes me sore ana stiff.
Then it’s ALKA-SELTZER to the
rescue — a tablet or two and a little
< rest makes me feel more like finish
ing the job.
And when I eat “not wisely but
too well,” ALKA-SELTZER relieves
the Acid Indigestion that so often
follows.
Yes, Alka - Seltzer brightens my
day. It brings relief from so many
of my discomforts, that 1 always
keep it handy.
Why don’t you
ALKA-SELTZER
today?
get a package of
at your drug store
prge Package SM, Small 34*.
Visit your school Thursday,
November 10, 1944
CHURCH NOTICES
Fir*t Baptist Church
REV. E. S. ELLIOTT, Pastor
Sunday, 10 A. M. Sunday
School. We had a good attend
ance last Sunday. Let’s make it
better this Sunday.
11 A. M. The pastor will
preach.
7 i\ M. Training Union *°i'
are invited.
S F. M Preaching service. The
pastor will preach.
Circle meetings Monday alici
noon at 4 CO o’clocs.
Baptismal service at the closv
of ihe preaching service this
Sunday nvght.
The Led has blessed us, and
we have had a great meeting.
May there he many others who
will give tiieir lives to the Lord,
and come ready to he baptised
Sunday night.
2nd Baptist Church
W. Luther Hawkins, Pastor
John McGinnis, S. S. Supt.
Sunday School 9:15 A. M.
A class for every age
Morning Worship 11:00 A. M.
Davis Trio, Guest Musicians
(Second anniversary of pastor.
Training Unions 6:30 P. M.
Evening Worship 7 :30 P. if.
Message and drawing by the
pastor.
-MORE ABOUT
COL. RIDDLE
the first services in the Anglo
American Church in more than
three years.
The Colonel wears the Euro
pean Theatre ribbon with four
campaign stars, the Purple Heart
the Bronze Star for meritorious
service and the Presidential Ci
tation.
Before entering the service,
Chaplain Riddle was Presbyterian
pastor in Cherryville, North Car
olina. He is a native of Clover,
South Carolina, where his wife
and daughter now reside.
Close the back and side venti
lators of the laying house as the
nights begin to get cooler. Pul
lets will get colds unless drafts
are prevented.
Presbyterian Church
J. WALTER COBB, Pastor
The Sunday morning service is
to be unusual in that there will be
a dedication baptismal service for
infant children, and in that the
newly organized Junior Choir will
have charge of the singing in
place of the regular choir. Spec
ial invitations to the parents of
the members of the Junior Choir
are being mailed out, and invita
tions to parents who have chil
dren who have not yea reached
the age of accountability and
who have not been baptized to
bring their little ones for this
dedication service.
Sunday 'School at 10 A. M.
W. W. Browne, Supt.
Two young people’s groups
Two Young People's Groups at
7 P. M., the “Juniors” and the
“Pioneers,” Mrs. Hugh Sneed,
Director.
Woman’s Auxiliary at 7:110
Monday in the church, Mrs. Gruce
Crocker, President; Mrs. E. S.
Sellers, Leader; Misses Clemmie
and Emma Browne and Mrs. E.
M. Browne, Hostesses.
Choir rehearsal on Wednesday
at 7:110 P. M. E. W. Carson, Di
rector.
TAX
Notice!
I NOW HAVE 1944 TAX '300KS
OF GASTON COUNTY AND AM
NOW PREPARED TO GIVE A RE
CEIPT FOR YOUR TAX.
J. C. JENKINS
TAXCOLLECTOR CHERRY V1LLE
TOWNSHIP