North Carolina Newspapers

f b;„ , \Am« [) Willia L ms «*%! SYNOPSIS „ 'Jim Saladlne listens to the history of Qelfbborlnf Hostile Valley, with gossip of the mysterious, enticing "Huldy,’' wife of Will Ferrln. Inter ested. he drives to the Valley for a day’s Ashing, though admitting to himself his chief desire Is to see the reputedly glamorous Huldy. “Old Harm” Pierce and her nlneteen year-old granddaughter Jenny live In the Valley. Since little more than a child Jenny has at Arst admired and then deeply loved young Will Ferrin, neighboring farmer, older than she, and who regards her still as merely a child. Will takes em ployment in nearby Augusta. Jenny Is disconsolate. Bart Carey, some thing of a ne'er-do-well, Is attracted by Jenny, but the girl repulses him. Learning that Will Is coming home, Jenny, exulting, sets his long-empty house “to rights,” and has dinner ready for him. He comes—bringing his wife, Huldy. The girl’s world collapses. Huldy becomes the sub ject of unfavorable gossip In the Valley. Entering his home, unlooked for, Will Ands seemingly damning evidence of his wife’s nnfalthfnlnaas For this problem which Will faced, chance brought what seemed a fortunate solution. Toward the foot of the Valley there was a farm long owned by old Fred Dace, whose father and grandfather had dwelt there before him, and who lived there with his son, Nate. But Nate had died a year or two before; and this spring the old man likewise sickened and came to his quick end. He had no kla about, but there was a son who four or five years before had gone west, and this son now frame home. * Zeke Dace was a lean, wiry man In his middle twenties, who wore a wide-brimmed hat of a western pat tern, and rode plow horses with a stock saddle, and rolled cigarettes with one hand, and had a laughing, ready tongue. He had come home, he said, to stay. The cow business .was busted, lobs on the range were hard to find. But the Dace farm promised no great return from even a vigorous cultivation; and Will Ferrin sent for Zeke and hired him as a hand. Jenny approved the arrangement. She liked the newcomer; and he and WH1 were from the first a con genial pair. There were others who liked Zeke, too. Amy, Bart’s Sister, was one of them. She was older than 'Jenny, but not yet old enough to begin to fade In that quick, relent less fashion which hard farm work may Impose upon a woman. Since Hnldy’s departure, whether by ac cident or not, Bart had fewer board era; and Seth Humphreys’ steam mill was shut down, abandoned and deserted now. So Bart and Amy were much alone, and Bart went often for a word with Will, and Zeke as often came down the hill to stand In the door of Amy’s kitch en and talk with her a while. He bad a teasing, laughing tongne that could whip color to her cheeks; but she liked it, and she sometimes nursed happy dreams. So this early summer in the Val ley passed serenely; and Jenny was * part of this serenity. She had no least warnlnv of what «• t« come. It was mid-July when Huldy re turned. Zeke and Will were busy with the harvest Will could drive the mowing machine, or the rake; and when It came to load the hay eart, or to put the hay In the mow, he nailed a board across the foot of his peg leg to make a sort of snow 1S ahoe which enabled him to stand ••purely. Jenny had gone this day early to the farm; had helped for a while In the fields, pitching hay «P on the cart with Zeke while Will •towed It there. But later she went to the house t dinner ready for them; and convenient time they came s kitchen, washed at the sink and so sat served them, set the on the table, then seated herself to eat with them; and the three were laughing together at some word Zeke had said, when a car drove Into the yard. A car with a man at the wheel and Huldy by his side. They saw her through the open door; saw her, and sat still and frozen while she descended and came toward them. The man stayed in the car. Jenny thought that Huldy wn, as beautiful as ever. She \ -wOd herself on her feet, facing 4 *6 door. Will half turned in his-'chair as though to rise; but that Ward nailed across the end of his peg cramped under a rung of the chair, and pre vented. Zeke looked questlonlngly at Will, and tnen at Huldy; and Huldy stood smiling, In the door way. Then she laughed. “I see you ain’t lonely. Will?” she said. He tried again to get up. ‘‘Where’s your crutch?” she inquired derisively. “Want me to fetch It for you?" Jenny asked: “What have you come for?” Her tone was steady, her heart still. “Don't worry,” Huldy told her. “I don’t aim to stay. I left some clothes here; come to fetch them. Unless you’ve been wearing them!" “They’re In a box in the attic,” Jenny said, ignoring the taunt “I put them away.” “Moved In, have you?” Huldy com mented. “Seems like you was in quite a hurry. I waited till he mar ried me, anyway 1” Jenny’s cheek was white; yet she curbed her tongue, and Huldy turned to Zeke. “I don’t know you,” she said amiably. “But you look like you had sense enough to real ize three’s a crowd!” Zeke grinned, deriding her. “From what I hear, three wouldn’t crowd you none,” he retorted. Her brows lifted. “So you been hearing about me, have you?” Then she smiled, flatteringly. “But you’d And that one’s enough for me, If he's a whole man,” she said. will wrencnea tne Doara on tne end of his leg, with a squeak of drawn nails, freeing his foot He stood up to face her. “Huldy,” he said huskily, “you mind your tongue. Come In If you want Yo’re always welcome here. But mind your tongue.” Huldy was for the moment si lenced; but Zeke spoke to Jenny. “Where’s this box?" he asked scorn fully. “I’ll fetch It down for her.” "In the attic, the far end,” Jenny said. “By the window.” Zeke turned toward the attic stairs, behind the stove; but Huldy spoke to him. “Yo’re In an awful hurry to get rid of me,” she pro tested. Zeke hesitated, looked at Will. “I’ll pack her back in the car out there If you say, Will,” he offered, his cheek hot Huldy whispered mockingly: “I guess you don't like me at all!” “Not a bit, lady,” Zeke assured hqr. “Nor any of your kind." "How do you know my kind?” she challenged. “I’ve seen enough of ’em, in gut ters and around,” he said merci lessly. But Will turned upon him. “Zeke, you hush up,” he said. Then to his wife; “Huldy, he’ll fetch your things I” Huldy stood, leaning indolently against the jamb of the door, smil ing at them all. “He don’t have to hurry. I might decide to stay,” she said softly. No one spoke; but Jenny felt the blood drain out of her Ups. “I like handsome men,” said Hul dy, drawling. “And even If he don't Uke me, he’s handsome as they Zeke's eyes were black with an ger. She laughed at his rage, and she safd In soft tones: “You can see he don’t Uke me, Will. 101 have to make him like me before I go.” Zeke cried, In choking exaspera tion: "You’re got one man outside! How many ..." Huldy looked over her shoulder, then back to Zeke again. “You go ont and tell him he can go,” she said. “Tell him I'm through with hlml" And when he hesitated: “He’s Just a little man,” she urged, derisively cajoling. “You’re no call to be afraid!" Zeke appealed to Will with a glance; and Will spoke wearily. “Go ahead, Zeke," he said, submitting. “This here’s Huldy’s home, If she’s a mind to stay.*’ Huldy took off her hat and laid It aside; she touched her hair with her hands. Jenny stood up and moved toward the door; but Huldy said softly: “Don’t you go! There’s room enough for both of us. I don’t want your Will!” Will protested heavily: “Huldy, If you stay here, you’ll have to mend your ways!" Huldy was suddenly vicious, dan gerous “Don’t talk to me!" she re torted. “After fetching her In here the minute I was gone. I aim to stay; and If you try to boss me around, I’ll howl her name np and down the Valley till people hold their noses when they see her I You better mend your own ways, Will Ferrln!” Zeke touched Will’s arm. “Let me throw her out. Will,” he protested. “Don’t you go and take her In." “I have to, Zeke,” Will confessed. Zeke stared at. the other man, hot, scornful, furious. “All right," he said then contemptuously. “If yo’re that kind, I’m quitting 1 You’ll have to get on without me!” But Huldy moved slowly to Zeke’s side. “Don’t you quit,” she said, and touched his hand. “You’ll be glad yon stayed.” Zeke seemed choking; he said at last grudgingly: “I'll finish out the week, I reckon.” And Huldy smiled contentedly but Jenny could bear no more.. ydv lng slowly, she went or* through the shed and the v rfu and down the orchard pa**i to the brook; she came thror.gn the deep woods home. As she opened the kitchen door, Marfa Pierce looked up inquiringly. And then, In quick alarm at what she saw, she rose to her feet; but there was no need of a question. Jenny spoke. “Huldy’s back,” she said through trembling lips. “She’s come home!” Marm Pierce exclaimed, In quick reassurance: “Don’t you grieve, Jenny I She’ll never stay!” Jenny shook her head, almost smiling, pitifully. “She didn’t aim to. She just come to fetch her clothes,” she said. “But She saw Zeke Dace. And—now she’s going to stay!” From Huldy’s return until Jim Saladlne came at last to Hostile Valley, two years intervened; and during this period, though her heart was his forever, Jenny saw Will not at all. In the country as in the city, it is possible to go for years without glimpsing your next-door neighbor. Accident might have brought them face to face; but neither the girl nor Will would de sign an encounter. Jenny loved him deeply and completely; and the very fact that they did not see one another served in some fashion to intensify the girl's devotion. This love of hers for Will, springing out of the years of her childhood, grow ing in stature and in depth as she became a woman, seemed to feed on denial. Lacking the man himself, she kept his remembered image in her heart and was wistfully con tented so. It sometimes seemed to Harm Pierce that Jenny’s love for Will must communicate Itself to him in silent ways; and at first she blamed him for that he did hot tErow Hul dy headlong out of his home and his life, so that he might turn to Jenny; and she spoke this thought to Jenny. But the girl shook her head. . “Not Will,” she said. “He’s not the kind to. Long as she lives, he’ll stand by her.” Marm Pierce Indignantly insisted: “There's nothing so dumb as a good man that’s got mixed up with a bad woman; and I’ve a mind to go tell Will so." Jenny smiled wisely. “You’ll not,” she said. “You never will." And Uarm Pierce, perceiving in the girl a wisdom greater than her own, never did. In the weeks after Huldy’s return, Amy Carey fell more and more into the habit of coming through the woods to see the old woman and the girl who dwelt here in this house divided. Win Haven’s side of the house fell nowadays more and more into disrepair. It would not be long, unless measures of repair were taken, till that half of the house sagged weakly downward into a collapsed ruin. Once Jenny proposed taking tar paper and like material to proof the other side of the walls against moisture; but the old woman would not consent “I wouldn’t give Win the satis faction,” she declared. tvueu rvuijr uauic iu siup a wuue with these two. In the warm kitch en, she could not fall to remark the Increasing disrepair; and she urged Harm Pierce to take measures of prevention. * "You’ll have to,” she said. “Be cause Win won’t never do anything. He was to onr house the other night, and talked abont It; and he ’lows to be ’round when his side of the house falls, and to watch and see the trouble it makes for you. Brags that If you try to mend any thing he’ll take a shotgun to you.” “He around again, Is he?” Marm Pierce demanded tartly. “I didn’t know but he’d died in a gutter somewheres before now.” “He comes to our place right along,” Amy assured them. “There’s a new steam mill putting In down brook below here, opposite where Seth’s 'mill used to be. They come In from Liberty village. Win, he’s working there. He comes np and him and Bart set and drink and brag.” She added huskily: “Win, he’s shining up to Holdy, too.” "That old fool I” Harm Pierce ex claimed. "Ton can’t go to blame him,” Amy said ruefully. “Seems like she takes a kind of satisfaction In fretting a man, and getting him haired up, and laughing at him after.” And she said slowly: "But I don’t know as she’s bothering with anyone, only Zeke, now.” Jenny caught some accent in the girl’s tone. Her perceptions were perhaps quickened by her own love. matter not to wise, said sharply: “Zeke’s as big a fool as any of them. I 'lowed be had store sense than that." “Zeke’s an right,” Amy said, in bnmblo defhhse. “Only he. . . Her eyes filled with slow tears. “He used to come down to set with me,” she confessed. “Always Joking and laughing, he was. Zeke's e hand to make a Joke ont of things. But I ain’t seen him lately.” So Marm Pierce understood, and her lips set in anger. urd like to give that hussy a piece of my mind!” she cried lmpotently. Amy whispered: “Sometimes Tm scared 1” she shivered uneasily. “Dunno what I’m scared of, either. But the men that have seen her, sometimes they come down to our place; and they’re half crasy,.klnd of. Bart, be hat-a the sight of her. He can’t say liny thing hard enough of^>f. He’s always been a good •fflJsnd to Will, and to have her treat Will so frets Bart awful. And Win Haven, he’ll come down and cuss and rave and rant about her, like he wanted to twist her neck. But Zeke, he don’t ever come down 1” “Nor Will?" Jenny guessed. “Will, he stays up there,” Amy as sented. “Him and Zeke.” The girl shuddered. “I dunno what’s going to come of It,” she admitted, fear fully. And she said; “Bart talks about licking Zeke. He says somebody’d ought to, long as Will can’t do It himself.” Marm Pierce asked sharply: “Can't Will take a gun to him, or a cart stave? If he had any gumption in him. , . ." “Will's got gumption enough,” Amy assured them. She looked at Jenny. “Bart told me, here about a week ago, he was up there, and Huldy said something about you, Jenny. Will, most times, he’s gen tle to her; but Bart says Will he got up at that and he says to her: j ‘Huldy,’ he says. JYou keep your tongue off Jenny or I’ll rip It out of your mouth!’" Jenny felt a fierce surge of pride and happiness; but she hid her eyes, so that these others might not see. Marm Pierce exclaimed In a deep exasperation: “I sh’d think as much! What’d she say to that?” “She shut her mouth!” Amy re ported. “Bart said she kind of i trn frs//s/ “I Might Decide to Stay,” 8he Said Softly. laughed, but she did hush upi He said Will was enough to terrify a body, the way he looked at her.” And she reflected: “Will, If he does get mad, it don't pay to fool with him.” There were other days when Amy came thus to be with them. They were remote from the Ferrln farm; but Amy was not From Will’s place down to Carey bridge was a scant quarter mile; so Amy had almost dally word of what passed on the hill, and her deep trouble In creased. “It’s like a sore place, up there,” she said one day. “Like a sore that’s bound to spread If you don’t scrub it out, and burn it out” And she cried: "There’s times I’d like to! Even Bart he ain’t the same, with that woman on his mind all the time.” She shook her head. “Seems like they all hate Huldy,” she con fessed. “But they can't seem to stay away from her. I’m scared, Mis’ Pierce. It wouldn’t surprise me a mite If a crowd of them went up there some day and rode her right out of the valley!” “Good enough for her!” the old woman declared. “I wlsh’t they would!” eui luis aia not nsppen, ana alter a time Bart was forced to cease his visits to Will’s farm. One day Amy came running to fetch Marm Pierce. “Bart’s hurt awful l” she cried. “Zeke beat him pretty near to death. You’re got to come and take care of him.” “Hurt how?" the old woman ques tioned, already preparing to obey this summons “They bad a fight,” Amy panted. “1 was in the house, and I heard them, and ran out, and they was at It, down by the bridge, fighting and rolling around In the ditch, and getting np and scrabbling at each other And going down again. They kep’ at tt, till Zeke he had the best of It. Backed off finally and left Bart laying there In the road. . . ,* (TO BE CONTINUED) .... .zr.,.1 ,. Little lights on miNG By MARIA LEONARD Dean ofw omHuUnivenity of Dlinoia • yyajtyjj^jwapapar Unloa. HOW TO TRAIN CHILDREN FOR LEISURE TO bu successrui in anyuung these days one needs training because competition Is so keen. U one had fire centuries to live, one might be content to progress by the trial and error method. We should build’ on the experiences of the past, though- history proves that man moves slowly along this line. Our present-day status regarding war would be enough to prove this statement Learning comes through two ave nues to the child, namely, precept and practice from the small home duties up through the professions. Today a certain part of child life Is neglected from precept and prac tice, which needs as much direction and guidance as their schooling. This is their play time. Play Is an Important and neces sary part of every one’s life. It is not Idleness nor Is It unoccupied time, for It recreates physically and mentally. If It fails to do this it "wreck-reates" and breaks, rather than re-creates and builds. For thts reason It Is necessary to train chil dren In part of their play time, mak ing it as educational as the other hours of their day. A friend of mine who has three sons, seventeen, fourteen and ten, wondered what to do with them when school closed. I suggested to her to let them use the basement to build book shelves for their den. It may cost a little, but It saves more in character, by keeping them bus ily happy and, happily busy. Children should be taught In part of their playtime to be industrious and Inventive—for loving and know ing how to work is a blessed herit age. They should be given tools and materials to play and work with Instead of finished, painted toys, soon laid aside when the thrill la gone. This learning how to do things and how to make things trains head, hand and heart, at the same time It gives the child a sense of achievement. Much in modern life today tends to make our children lazy and blase as they sit Idly and listlessly, Usten lng to the radio, auto riding, or watching a movie. Training for leisure enables them to grow strong er intellectually as well as physical ly In their playtime. * * * WHERE THE FAMILY FAILS ENGRAVED in stone on the door way of the law building of an Eastern university is the silent but powerful message, “He who enters selfishly here endangers.” Tills Is certainly true of the profession of law and of medicine. In fact of all professions, including that most re sponsible profession of them all— parenthood. Our American home has suffered greatly from without and within this quarter of a century. Causes and results have become hopelessly Interwoven in helping to destroy the home’s momentous influence, through easy divorces, childless homes, bandbox apartments, pro mulgated heresies of marriage through literature and Bcreen. However, the basic ailment of the whole world from nation to In dividual is selfishness — self-ag grandizement, selfish interests. The golden rule has become leaden—do for yourself and let others do like wise. This doctrine has permeated some of our American homes. At a fairly recent Parent-Teachers’ state meeting in one of our most In tellectual Eastern states, the presi dent made an eloquent appeal for parents, fathers and mothers to spend one evening each week with their children, reading or playing In the home circle or at a movie. Ask ing for a rising vote of promise from this audience of 500 parents she could hardly suppress her dis appointment when only 75 men and women stood to pledge this much of their time from their own pleasure plans to really become acquainted with their children. Two years ago Roger Babson told us that more money was spent for automobiles In the last three and one-half years than bad been spent for homes In the last ISO years. When parents’ Interests turn in on their own pleasures, their chil dren’s Interests turn out of the home, so that children themselves lose enjoyment and become bored with an evening at home. If one figures approximately the waking hours from childhood to college age, seventeen, about 1,000 hours are spent on Sabbath school, around 11,000 hours In the public schools, leaving 80,000, nearly 87 per cent of childhood and adolescence under the Influence and responsibility of the home. How can parents give the child momentum enough in his first six years to carry him through life from home lessons of character and religion, if some of our parents are so absorbed In their own self ish Interests that they are unwill ing to spend even one evening a week with their children? Rubber Used in Place of Down in Upholstery Bubber Is being used Increasingly u a household commodity. The latest purpose Is as a substitute for down in cushions and upholstery. The rubber Is converted Into sponges, of, varying dimensions, and is thus glten the springy quality needed for stuffing of upholstery, cushions, tops of large footstools, etc. It Is this rubber-sponge upholstery that Is competing with down. In softness, It ts manufactured to be comparable. When the rubber Is totally deodor ized, the competitive value reaches a high water mark. It Is true that down will acquire a faint unalred odor unless cushions are shaken fre quently, and aired occasionally also. So both rubber and down require care In order to preserve their fresh ness, In this use for cushioned furni ture or soft cushions. Rubber Is a recognized agent for rug linings, the word lining being used as In the case of carpet lining, to mean a separate article to be laid between the floor and the rug or car pet. In each instance the lining softens the tread and prevents the floor coverings above them from wearing out as quickly as If put di rectly on the hard boards. In the case of rubber rug linings, slight ad hesive quality of the rubber mats helps to keep rugs from slipping on the floor. This Is a great recom mendation as rugs that slip and slide under foot cause accidents; and what ever reduces them is desirable. Bub ber corner pieces for rugs keep the corners from turning up, and also lessen the liability of the rugs slip ping. Indented rubber door mats long ago found a place for themselves, both outside doorways, and Inside the house before entrance doors. Rain cannot hurt them, and the mats are easily cleaned of dust and dirt by washing with the hose, or douch ing with water. These floor mats when deeply Indented act as old-time foot-scrapers. Wiping shoes on the ridged surface of the mat before com ing Into a house takes off mud and dust, and makes housework easier for the homemaker, who does not have ro clean up the muddy tracks. With the various electric appli ances In the home of today, rubber becomes an Important non-conductor i In many ways. Iceless refrigerator bare rubber Insulations. Rubber an glass are competitive agents of it sulatlon, each having certain at vantages for their specific uses. Rubber knobs come to stick lnt backs of furniture to keep then from hitting walls hard. They ar excellent for sofas and davenport positioned with backs along walll These buttons, In varying sixes ar put to many uses to suit the home maker's needs. To enumerate all the many house hold purposes of rubber would b an impossible task In one short ar tide, which is primarily to acqualn homemaker’s with the novel uphoi stery use to which it la beln. adapted. © Bell Syndicate.—WNU Service. Women Are Less Liked by Men Than in Former Year We are In the middle years of i woman's generation which was vig orous with hopes and Intentions o accomplishments, electric with de sire to be worth something to th world, ambitious to have women o equal stature with the men who wer their husbands and companions. The original plan, we must r« member, was never to incur the rc sentment of men. Women felt ver; sure that such resentment and ar tagonism as they encountered li their first efforts was the result o shock and would be transient; the; expected that a few years of at complishment would do away with il There has been much accomplish ment, the best of it unfortunatel; concentrated in the hands of a com paratively few women, and mor than a few years have passed. Bu the resentment of men has not dit appeared. Quietly It has grown am deepened. They are no longer angr; as they were In the beginning whoi women did unaccustomed or consplc uous things. Men love individua women as passionately as they eve have, but in the aggregate they seei to like women less. Young girls, mat rled women, working women and th widows all come in for a share o this general criticism.—Margare Culkin Banning in Harper’s Maga zine. STRIKE UP THE BAND AND GIVE IT A HAND THE FLAVOR’S GLOR-I-OUS JOIN IN THE CHOR-I-OUS 1—ngfrv (P IT’S GOT EVERYTHING I ITS THE CEREAL KING •£ l--— Once you taste Grape-Nut* Flakes, you’ll dicer tool And it not only has a delicious flavor, but it’s nourishing. One dishful, with milk or cream, contains more varied nourish* ^ ment than many a hearty meaL Try it— your grocer has it I Product of General Foods. Hvc‘tf / ht'tti. I ADVERTISEMENTS