The Centre reporter. (Centre Hall, Pa.) 1871-1940, February 15, 1940, Image 3

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    By RUPERT
HUGHES
SYNOPSIS
On board the Nord-Express, with Ostend
as his immediate destination Dr. David
Jebb is bound for America. With him is
five-year-old Cynthia Thatcher, his tempo-
rary ward. On the train they meet Big
Bill Gaines, former classmate of David's.
He tells Gaines of his mission-—-which is the
return of the child to her mother in Amer-
ica. Cynthia's father is dead.
CHAPTER I—Continued
2
——
“You're a pretty good little carv-
er, I suppose?”
“I'm great, Billy.”
“You ought to know.”
“I do. I am. That is, I'm great
with extenuating circumstances.
I'm a genius, but a damfool. I have
a curse that ruins eveiything.”
‘Not cocaine?”
“No. I've somehow
drugs.”
“Our mutual friend, Barleycorn?”
“Old John Barleycorn.”
“I see, it makes your hand un-
steady, eh?”
“No. I never play with the fire,
except at regular intervals. Then 1
commit arson. I'm what is popular-
ly known as a periodical—with a
capital P. It's a terrible thing to
confess, even to old Goliath Gaines,
but it's all in the Catacombs, and
I'm not the only person on earth
with a flaw in his make-up. No-
body knows how badly assembled
human machines are, Billy, except
doctors. If it weren't for our Hippo-
cratic ideals, what cleset doors we
could open in the best simulated
families!”
“I've got a skeleton too—some-
where, 1 suppose,” said Gaines,
“but I can’t find it. My skeleton is
a tendency to turn into a balloon—
more or less dirigible. I've tried
everything. I'we banted in seven
languages. Diet? I haven't eaten a
thing for ten years, but I—you don’t
know any sure cure for fat, do
you?”
“Nobody does, Billy,” said Jebb
with the cynical frankness doctors
employ to their friends; then with a
look at his own lank legs, “I've got
the anti-fat serum in my system, I
suppose, but I don't know what it
is.”
Gaines shook his fat head and all
his chins in elephantine despair.
‘““Thanks for your little ray of dis-
couragement. Go on with your sto-
ry. I'll tell you mine later. So
you've developed one of those clock-
work thirsts, eh? Too bad, old boy.
I had a pal who was like you-he's
dead now-—but he found a cure.
Have you tried—"'
“Your friend found the one sure
cure. Don't start anything begin-
ning ‘Have you tried?’ I've tried all
the Have-you-trieds and then some.
I've tested all there are in the books
and a thousand of my own invention.
I had a landlady who used to buy
those ‘put-some-in-your-husband’s
coffee-and-he-won’t-notice-it-till-he’s-
cured’ things. Her coffee was so
bad anyway 1 never noticed it. But
no more did she notice any cure.
You see, Billy, most of the habit-
cures depend on the will eventually;
but when the will itself is diseased,
what can you do? It's ilke making
rabbit-pie when you can’t catch the
rabbit. The one important fact is
that everybody has his personal dev-
il, and that's mine.
“Otherwise I'm all to the good.
I've got two arms, a pair of legs,
a couple of eyes, both ears, both
lungs, one whole stomach, no float-
ing kidneys, a liver you couldn't
derange with an ax, and ability to
work forty hours at a stretch, and a
gift for operative surgery that is
a marvel, if 1 do say it. But I've
got an intermittent thirst that
amounts to mania, and it does its
little best to nullify all my other
gifts, If it weren't for that I'd be
famous and rich.”
“Don’t you call ten thousand real
iron dollars rich?”
“Oh, I'm rich enough for the mo-
ment. 1 feel like old King Midas,
but the trouble is I've got his long
ears, tco. When I'm in my—cups,
is the polite expression. But it's a
case of bathtub with me. When I'm
that way, I think I'm Mr, Croesus,
and 1 spend what I have as if 1
owned the Standard Oil and had
struck a gusher of gold.
b “1 don’t tipple between sprees. I
ate the sniff of liquor in my dry
seasons. But when my time rolls
round, I've the thirst of a man lost
in the Mojave desert. 1 see mirages,
but not of waterfalls, Billy—fire-
waterfalls!
“My life runs on schedule. So
many months of humanity, then
three weeks of humidity. I'm like
the tropics-—-all rain or all sun.
And I can pretty nearly tell you to
the hour and the minute, just when
my freshet begins. I'm a sort of
Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hydrophobia.
When the rabies bites me, the sight
of water makes me froth at the
mouth. For two or three weeks I
go about like an idiot trying to put
out a raging fire by pouring on kero-
sene.’’
“Poor old boy,” said Gaines, "it
must be hell. What do. you do?
Lock yourself in a room and order
drinks through the keyhole?”
escaped
“If I only did! If I only did! But
I'm no stationary dipsomaniac. I'm
the only original Wandering Jew—
no connection with a cheap imitator
of similar name. I hardly show what
I'm carrying-—they tell me. 1 look
a bit feverish, and I'm slightly thick
of tongue, but 1 have a subintelli-
gence that keeps me from being run
over by the cars. My trouble is
like certain forms of aphasia with
double personality. I lose my sense
of orientation, but I am determined
to hike. And hike I hike, till I drop
or come round sober, Then I'm
like the man Bill Nye tells about
who was found after the train-wreck,
plucking violets in the dell and gen-
tly murmuring ‘Where am I?’
Gaines looked at him more in
amazement than in sorrow:
“You must have had some rare
old experiences.”
travel.
“No doubt, Billy, no doubt. But
I don't know what my experiences
are. Once in a while I meet some
man who hails me by some strange
name and says I borrowed money
from him in Pueblo, or lent him
money in Skaneateles. I never ask
any questions.
it and say, ‘Oh, yes, of course.’
“I tell you it's an uncanny sort of
room in some unheard of place and
He paused to lean on me and
beg my pardon profusely,
wonder how under the sun you got
there and where under the sun you
are.”
Gaines was reminded:
“I used to walk in my sleep as a
boy. Once I found myself in my
nightie in the middle of a ballroom
floor. I had just meandered in.
The floor committee meandered me
out in double time. The other night,
I got turned round in bed in a hotel
in Leipzig, and when I woke up with
my head to the footboard I was so
bewildered I came near hollering
for the night clerk. I thought some-
body had put a voodoo on me.”
“That's the feeling exactly,” said
Jebb, *“‘only when I wake up I'm
as weak as a sick cat, and my head
~oh, my head! And my tongue—
oh, oh, my tongue! I haven't the
faintest idea of what I have done,
or where 1 have been, or where I
am, I reach for my trousers and
the pockets are empty—my watch is
gone, stolen, given away to a polite
street-car conductor or thrown at
a cat. Then I have to recuperate,
send a telegram, collect, or draw
on my bank--that's no fun among
strangers—-and get home the best
way I can.
“I'm a periodical prodigal, Billy;
only I have no father to fall on my
neck and offer me veal. 1 sneak
back to my own shack and try to
regain my disgusted and mystified
patients by scattering lies by the
bushel.”
It was Gaines’ amiable nature to
try to wring a drop of honey from
every gall-bag.
“You must be a great little sur-
geon, Davey, to keep any practice
at all.”
“I am, but I had to give up New
York and go out West to a smallish
city where they have to have me,
handicap and all. When I feel the
madness coming on, I arrange my
affairs, transfer my patients to oth-
er hands, say that I've been called
East about my property—and then 1
hit the trail on the long hike. If 1
weren't one of the cleverest sur-
geons that ever ligated an artery,
I'd be in the poorhouse today. If I
weren't cursed with the bitterest
blight that ever ruined & soul, I'd
be at the top of my profession.”
“Poor old Jebb,” sighed Gaines,
“but don’t you care, we've all got
our troubles. Now to look at me,
you wouldn't think-—but that can
wait. You were going to tell me
what 1 could do for you.”
“Well, now that you know all, I'll
tell you the rest. The last time I
fell, I woke up in New Orleans.
When I got home I found a letter
saying that a distant relative had
died leaving me a leasehold in Lon-
don. That's one of the things that
happens in storybooks. But truth
sometimes tries to imitate fiction.
I vowed I'd jump across the At-
lantic, clean up what cash I could,
and invest it where I couldn’t touch
the principal.
“Well, just when I was getting
my affairs straightened up so that I
could start, a beautiful operation
came my way. No money in it, but
some reputation and a rare oppor-
tunity I couldn't let slide—an ex-
quisite fibroid tumor intricately and
vitally involved. The woman, Mrs.
Milburn, was a widow, and her only
child was a married daughter who
had gone to Berlin with her hus-
band, John Thatcher.
“When Mrs. Milburn heard that
tion, she cabled her daughter to
come and hold her hand while she
I brought Mrs.
through — and good work, too—
there'll be an article about it in
the Medical Record. Her daughter,
Milburn
her husband made his fortune by a
But I said, ‘Don't
you." We always say that.
blegram saving that her husband
ly, with a woman of bad name. The
Dutchman who sent it had
any breaking it gently.
“Thatcher left only funds enough
to bury him.
child in charge.
circumstances and the shock pros-
trated Mrs. Thatcher completely.
and bring back the little girl.
money was a big consideration, too,
and I—well, since 1 was going over
anyway, I offered to get the child
that I was.”
“Fool nothing,” Gaines blurted;
boy."
Jebb shook his head. *I meant
well, but you know where we well-
intentioned people lay the asphalt.”
“I don’t follow you, Davey."
“1 hoped you would, Billy.
nauseating to explain.
goes:
from America and met so much
postponement in settling my affairs
in poky old London, and had so
many details to close up for poor
Thatcher before 1 left Berlin with
the child, that I have exhausted my
vacation from Hades.”
“You don't mean—"
“That's just exactly what I mean.
I've been so busy in new scenes that
I lost count of the days. This morn-
ing as I boarded the train at Ber-
lin, a drunken man--needless to say,
he was an American—lurched into
me. He paused to lean on me and
beg my pardon profusely. I couldn't
dodge his breath. I shook him off,
but 1 had felt that first clutch of
the thirst. It comes with a rush,
Billy, when it comes. And I might
as well fight it as try to wrestle with
a London fog. It's got me. And
I'm afraid, Billy, horribly afraid. I
feel like a man who has sold his
soul to the devil when the clock
strikes and he smells brimstone. It
doesn’t matter about my rotten soul
or the body it torments. And 1
have no children—I've never dared
to marry and drag any woman along
my path. My parents, heaven be
praised, died when I was in college.
I got my curse by entail from poor
old dad. His father acquired it in
the grand old days when the high
i
|
1
|
after dinner.
“I'm alone now. There'd be no-
body to mourn for me. But here I
am with a poor widow's only child
“The Name
Is Familiar=
— rn
BY
FELIX B, STREYCKMANS
and ELMO SCOTT WATSON
Teddy Bear
HE coy, mild teddy bear, the
idol of all small children, was
named after the brusque, forceful
fate.
*““And there's another thing, Billy.
In Berlin I found proofs that this
poor Thatcher didn't commit sui-
cide. He tried to save the woman's
life—she was drowning; she dragged
him to his death—they both died.
He didn't even know who she was.
Besides, he did leave something for
his family. In my handbag, I have
his finished drawings for a great in-
vention that looks to me good for a
fortune if it can be got to America
and patented and placed.
“So you see, Billy, what a load
I've got on my chest. The little
child, her father's honor, her moth-
er's salvation from poverty—all
these, with an ocean and a half a
continent between me and safety.
It's no question of will-power. I
have none. Your offer of a nip of—
you know, went through me like a
knife. If you want to spare me ago-
ny don't use even the name of—of
any of those things in my hearing.
If I get a sniff of liquor—ugh! I'll
fight for it. And after the first drop
it's all over but the
hike.”
Goliath looked at David with eyes
of complete compassion. He said:
“Don’t you care, Dave. I'll stick
to you to the finish. If you should
be—er, incapacitated, I'll get the
the docu-
So just qualify for the
and leave the
rest to me. And I rather think you'd
better hand over those plans. They'd
ments, oo.
of yours, Dave—it doesn’t sound ex-
actly Samaritan to say to a man you
haven't seen for years, ‘Give me
you,” bat if you want to gamble on
my honesty I'll play banker for
He was about to break down, but
brusque effort. He slapped his hand
“I'll get those documents for you,
money-belt as soon as 1 can
{ie looked at Gaines’
Gaines locked at his.
girth, and
The same
whiff of laughter shook away the
gloom.
“Your money bag will have to
round my equator,” said Gaines.
“It will be great sport for me,
though. I'll know how. it feels to be
entirely surrounded by money.”
Seeing that Jebb’s dour face had
softened a trifle—the fat are emi-
nent consolers—QGaines made an ef-
fort to keep him diverted, and he
began to laugh reminiscently:
“Say, Dave, do you remember,
when we were cubs together at
Yale, and one evening we were at—
at—""
He was about to say ““Moriarity’s”
but that had liquid connotations, He
stopped short and gulped. *“'No, that
wasn't the time.” His memory
switched to another incident—but
that was Heublein's or Traeger’s.
It seemed to him, as he tumbled
out the pigeonholes of memory in
his roll-top forehead, that he could
find nothing recorded but carousals.
He knew that they had played only
a minute part in the total of col-
lege lile, but because he wanted to
avoid them, he found them every-
where.
He tried to think of some athletic
excitement, some classroom joke,
some incident in the Catacombs, but
the memory is not a voluntary
muscle.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
Probably two people in each hun-
dred have hay fever. If you are
ene of the two bear in mind that
the spring of the year is the time
to begin medical treatment.
Hay fever is due to inhaling an
irritating pollen. The symptoms
are sneezing, blocking of the nos-
trils due to the swollen mucous
membrane, watery discharge, itch-
ing of the eyes and sometimes the
roof of the mouth, slight degree of
fever, difficult breathing, depressed
spirits and a general feeling that
the worst is yet to come. Such
symptoms coming year after year
can be nothing but hay fever. As
evidence against the pollen it is not-
ed that relief is always obtained
when the supply of pollen is for any
reason diminished. A continued
rain often gives relief, a change in
wind may do so, and many suffer.
ers insist that running away on the
train for a hundred miles or so is
a sure cure.
Years ago it was supposed that
the irritation came from the hay
harvest—thus the name hay fever.
Then the relationship to pollen was
discovered and because the golden
rod stands out a bright and shining
mark it was promptly made to bear
the blame. But investigation shows
that the pollen of golden-rod is not
abundant and is dislodged with
difficulty. Finally the botanical de-
tectives turned to the ragweed, with
its insignificant green flowers, and
discovered that its pollen is not
only wind-borne but is produced in
such abundance that a slight blow
will discharge it in clouds, and it is
so light that the wind will easily
carry it a great distance.
Ragweed is responsible for per
haps four cases in every five of the
common variety of hay fever that
autumn brings. Bear in mind that
there is also a very annoying pollen
infection that attacks in the spring.
Grasses, weeds and certain trees
are responsible, and so common are
the sources of attack that escape
by flight is difficult.
Specialists in treating hay fever
are to be found in ever large city.
Their plan of treatment is to test
the sensitiveness of the patient to
various policns, until the right one
is discovered, and then give treat-
ment to produce immunity to that
particular pollen, a system of vac
cination,
*
bear hunt down in Mississippi dur-
ing November, 1902.
For 10 days “Teddy” and his
game, One morning the cry of
“Bear!” was raised and the Presi-
dent hurried out of his tent to dis-
cover a small, frightened cub which
had been dragged into camp for him
to shoot,
“Take him away!’ snorted Teddy
contemptuously. “If I shot that lit.
tle fellow 1 would be ashamed to
look into the faces of my children.”
When Clifford K. Berryman, a
cartoonist for the Washington Post
heard about the incident, he drew
this cartoon:
Overnight
mous and so » “teddy bear’ be-
came the suhject of innumerable
verses and stories. Then the toy-
makers took advantage of its vogue
and it became a more popular toy
for children than the panda of today.
- . -
Lavalliere
HE piece of jewelry known as a
lavalliere has been out of style
for many years—but it carried on
for two centuries the name of the
duchess of Lavalliere for whom it
was named. was born in 1644
and died in 1710, noted for being the
mistress of Louis XIV and for her
affection for pendant jewelry which
hung from her throat by a chain.
p She was known
as Francoise Lou-
ise de Labaume
Le Blanc, and
was born at
Tours, France,
the daughter of
an army officer.
She did not be-
come the duchess
of Lavalliere un-
til she bore her
third child. The
: : first two died, but
Ramee. the third lived
Mme. Lavalliere and was recog-
nized by Louis as his daughter.
In letters-patent he made
mother a duchess and conferred
upon her the estate of Vaujours,
which gives you a rough idea of how
the French tried to hush those mat.
ters up in those days.
The same year, she gave birth to
a son, but Louis was interested in
someone else then and the duchess
finally spent her remaining days in
a convent . . . lucky at that that she
os
i
wie
she left Louis except pendant jew-
elry.
* » ®
Pompadour
the-forehead hairdress a
dour. But the word was in use in
that
naughty
was
Various items of
apparel were in-
cluded, like the
ried that looked 9
like Bo Peep’s ex-
cept that they had Pompadour
a silver ball on the top instead of a
crook, were called pompadour
sticks. A shade of pink was called
pompadour pink, too.
Even a fish has been named the
pompadour, not because it wears its
scales straight back or carries a
stick but because it is that same
shade of passionate pink that flashed
across Louis’ court on date nights.
The Marquise de Pompadour’s
given name--the name she was
known by until she made good with
the king--was Jean Poisson. Pois-
son is French for fish, so naming a
fish pompadour was merely return.
ing the compliment.
(Released by Western Newspaper Union.)
College Graduate Study
The first president of Johns Hop-
kins university, Daniel Coit Gilman,
is usually regarded as the founder
of college graduate work in this
country.
® A General Quiz
1, Can you give three words,
2. Which are the three fastest
3. What is a martingale—a song~
bird, part of a horse's harness,
4, What kinds of twins are there?
5. What are the male
male architectural figures called?
6. Wi three birds have be-
come ted States
. : ' J
ana ie-
in the last
"
1. How fa
before
a safe de
ator fallen
rachute mn
cent?
The Answers
1. Record, produce, minute.
The cheetah, the gazelle
ace horse are the three
mals on foot.
of a horse's harness.
dentical, unlike, and Siamese.
figures, used as supports
rchitecture, are called carya-
, female figures are called at-
lantes,
6. The passenger pigeon became
extinct in the 1880s, the Labrador
duck in the 1840s, and the great
auk in the 1840s.
7. On March 1, 1831, E. 8S.
(*‘Spud’’) Manning fell 15,265 feet
before opening his parachute in a
yviaie
i4
MY BUSINESS
—BUT FOR
PLEASURE
GIVE ME A
SLOW-BURNING
CIGARETTE.
CAMELS ARE
MILDER
AND
"FASTEST MAN ON WHEELS”
in six-day bicycle racing is 8-time
winner Cecil Yates, Jr. (above). Bus
in cigarettes, Cecil is on the slow side
—he smokes slow-burning Camels.
Try Camels. Find out for yourseif
how Camels give you more pleasure
per puff — and more puffs per packl
(Yes, more actual smoking.)
in recent laboratory tests,
CAMELS burned 25%, sfow-
er than the average of the
15 other of the largest-sell-
ing brands tested — slower
than any of them. That
means, on the average, a
smoking plus equal to
EXTRA
SHOKES