The Patton courier., September 26, 1929, Image 2

THE PATTON COURIER
THE TRAI
CHAPTER XI—Continued
a
1 am in a box at the Palace Grand.
The place is packed with rowdy men
and ribald women. } am at the zenith
of my shame Right and left I am
buying wine.
How 1 foathe myself! but I think
of Berna, and the thought goads me
to fresh excesses. I will go on till
flesh and blood can stand it no longer,
till I drop in my tracks. I realize that
somehow I must make her pity me,
must awake iu her that guardian
angel which exists in every woman.
Only in that way can I break down
the barrier of her pride and arouse
the love I&tent in her heart.
Always &mid that lurid carnival of
gin floats the figure of Blossom, Blos-
som with her child-face of dazzling
fairness her china-blue eyes, her
round, smooth cheeks. How different
from the pinched palid face of Berna!
Poor, poor Berna! 1 never see her,
but amid all the saturnalia she haunts
me. The thought of her is agony. 1
caunnt bear to think of her. I know
she watches me. If she would only
stoop and save me now! Or have I
not fallen low enough? I must go
deeper yet. Faster and faster must
I swirl into the vortex.
In all that fierce madness of de-
bauch, thank God, I retained my honor.
They beguiled me, they tried to lure
me into their rooms; but at the mo-
ment I went to enter I recoiled. It
was as if an invisible arm stretched
across the doorway and barred me
out.
And Blossom, she, too, tried so hard
to lure me, and because I resisted it
inflamed her. She would coax me
with the prettiest gestures, and cajole
me with the sweetest endearments;
Yhen, when I steadfastly resisted her,
she would fly into a fury and flout me
with the foulness of the stews.
It was in one of the corridors of the
dance hall in the early hours of the
morning. The place was deserted,
strewed with debris of the night's de-
bauch. We were up there, Blossom
and L. I was in a strange state of
mind, a state bordering on frenzy.
Not much longer, I felt, could I keep
up this pace. Something had to hap-
pen, and that soon.
She put her arms around me.
“Come,” she said.
She led me toward her room. No
longer was I able to resist. My foot
was on the threshold and I was al-
most over when—
“Telegram, sir.”
It was a messenger. Confusedly 1
took the flimsy envelope and tore it
open. Blankly I stared at the line of
type. I stared like a man in a dream.
I was sober enough now.
“Ain't you coming?’ said Blossom,
putting ber arms round me.
“No,” 1 said hoarsely, “leave me,
please leave me. Oh, my God!”
Her face changed, became vindie-
tive, the face of a fury.
“Curse you!” she hissed. “Oh, 1
knew. It’s that other, that white-
faced doll you care for. Look at me!
Am I not better than her? And you
scorn me. Oh, 1 hate you. I'll get
even with you and her. Curse you,
curse you—"
She snatched up an empty wine
bottle. Swinging it by the neck she
struck me square on the forehead. 1
felt a stunning blow, a warm rush of
blood. Then I fell limply forward, and
all the lights seemed to go out.
There 1 lay in a heap, and the blood
spurting from my wound soaked the
little piece of paper. On it was
written :
“Mother died this morning. Garry.”
». * * . * » *
“Where an. 1?”
“Here, with me.”
Low and sweet and tender was the
voice. 1 was in bed and my head was
heavily bandaged, so that the cloths
weighed upon my eyelids. By my
bedside some one was sitting, and a
soft, gentle hand was holding mine,
“Is that you, Berna?”
“Yes, please don’t talk.”
I thrilled with a sudden sweetness
of joy. A flood of sunshine bathed
me, It was all over, then, the tur-
moll, the storm, the shipwreck. | was
drifting on a tranquil ocean of con-
tent. Blissfully I closed my eyes.
Yet there was something, some
memory darker than the others, some
shadow of shadows that baffled me.
Ws I battled with a growing terror and
suspense, it all came back to me, the
telegram, the news, my collapse. A
great grief welled up in me, and in
my agony 1 spoke to the girl.
“Berna, tell me, is it true?
mother dead?”
“Yes, it’s true. dear.
to bear it bravely.”
I could feel her bending over me,
could feel her hand holding mine,
could feel her hair brush my cheek
yet 1 forgot even her just then. |
thought only of mother, of her devo
gion and of how little 1 had done to
deserve it. So this was the end: a
narrcw grave, a rending griet and
the haunting specter of reproach
My sobs were choking me, and Berna
was holding my hand very tightly.
Yet in a little I grew calmer.
“Berna,” 1 said, “I've only gov you
now, only you, little girl. So you
must love me, you mustn't leave me,”
“I'll paver leave you—if you want
me to stay.”
“God bpless you, dear. 1 can’t
ted you tie comfort you are to me.
Il ry w >e Quiet now.”
I wih always remember those days
ne 1 grew slowly well again. Berna
“ft me much alone, 1lone with my
Is my
You must try
ed Northland Romance
by
Robert W. Service
Illustrations by Irwin Myers
WNU Service
thoughts. Often when all was quiet
I knew she was sitting there beyond
the curtain, sitting thinking, just as
1 was thinking. Quiet was the key-
note of our life, quiet and sunshine.
That little cabin might have been a
hundred miles from the gold-born city,
it was so quiet. How sweet she looked
in her spotless home attire, her neat
waist, her white apron with bib and
sleeves, her general air of a little
housewife. And never was there so
devoted a nurse.
It was sweet prolonging my con-
valescence, yet the time came when I
could no longer let her wait upon me.
What was going to happen to us? Was
ever a stranger situation? She slept
in the little kitchen, and between us
The Place
Is Packed
Men and Ribald
With Rowdy
Women.
there was but that curtain. The faint.
est draught stirred it. There 1 lay
through the long, long night in that
quiet cabin. I heard her breathing.
Sometimes even I heard her murmur
in her sleep. I knew she was there,
within a few yards of me. I thought
of her always. I loved her beyond
all else on earth. I was gaining daily
in health and strength, yet not for
the wealth of the world would I have
passed that little curtain. She was
as safe there as if she were guarded
with swords. And she knew it.
“I'll play the game fair,” I said to
myself. 1 must be very careful. Our
position was full of danger. So 1
forced myself to be cold to her, and
she looked both surprised and pained
at the change in me. Her heart was
innocent, and she could not under-
stand my sudden coldness. The girl
was winsome beyond words, and 1
knew 1 had but to say it and she
would come to me. Yet I checked my-
self. I retreated behind a barrier of
reserve. “Play the game,” 1 said;
“play the game.”
So as I grew better and stronger
she seemed to lose her cheerfulness.
Always she had that anxious, wistful
look. Once came a sound from the
kitchen like stifled sobbing, and in
the night I heard ber cry. Then the
time came when I was well enough to
get up, to go away.
I dressed, looking like the cadaver-
ous ghost I felt myself to be. She was
there in the kitchen, sitting quietly,
waiting.
“Berna,” 1 called.
She came, with a smile lighting up
her face.
“I'm going.”
The smile vanished, and left her
with that high proud look, yet behind
it was a lurking fear.
“Are you ready?’ 1 went on.
“Ready?”
“Yes, you're going, too.”
“Where?”
I took her suddenly in my arms.
“Why, you dear little angel, to get
married, of course. Come on, Berna,
we'll find the nearest parson. We
won't lose any more precious time.”
Then a great rush of tears came into
her eyes. But still she hung back.
She shook her head.
“Why, Berna, what's the matter?
Won't you come? Don’t you love
me?”
“Yes, I love you.
you I won't come.”
“Won't you marry me?”
“No, no, 1 can’t. You know what 1
said before. I haven't changed any.
I'm still the same—dishonored girl.
Everybody knows. No, I could never
marry you, never take your name,
never bind you to me, You must go
away, or—stay.”
“Stay?”
“Yes. You've been living alone with
me for a month. I picked you up that
night in the dance hall. 1 had you
brought here. 1 nursed you. Do you
think people don’t give us credit for
the worst? | am supposed to be your
It’s because I love
mistress. Everybody knows: nobody
cares. There are so many living that
way here.”
“What shall 1 do?”
“Just stay. Oh. why can't we go
on as we've been doing? What does
the ceremony matter? We love each
other. Isn't that the real marriage?
It's more; it's an ideal, We'll both
L OF °98
be free to go if we wish, There will
be no bonds but those of love, Oh,
stay, stay!”
Her arms were round my neck. The
gray eyes were full of pleading. The
sweet lips had the old, pathetic droop.
I yielded to the empery of love.
“Well,” I said, “we will go on
awhile, on one condition—that by-and-
by you marry me.”
“Yes, 1 will, I will; I promise, If
you don’t tire of me; if you are sure
beyond all doubt you will never regret
it, then I will marry you with the
greatest joy in the world.”
So it came about that I stayed.
. . * ° . . *
The year following, in which Berna
and I kept house, was not altogether
a happy one. Somehow we had both
just missed something. The thought
of her terrible experience haunted her.
[ knew, and I, too, suffered.
I tried to make her forget, yet 1
could not succeed; and even in my
most happy moments there was al-
ways a shadow of Locasto; there was
always a fear, the fear of his return.
My partners and 1 were up to our
necks in business these days. Our
Gold hill property had turned out weil.
Jim was busy installing his hydraulic
plant on Ophir creek, and altogether
we had enough to think about. [I had
set my heart on making a hundred
thousand dollars, and as things were
looking it seemed as if two more years
would bring me to that mark.
“Then,” said I to Berna, “we’ll go
and travel all over the world, and do
it in style,”
“Will we, dear?” she answered ten-
derly. “But I don’t want money much
now, and I don’t know that I care so
much about travel either. What 1
would like would be to go to your
home, settle down and live quietly.
She was greatly interested in my de-
scription of Glengyle. Particularly
was she interested in my accounts of
Garry, and rather scoffed at my en-
thusiastic description of him.
“Oh, that wonderful brother of
yours! One would think he was a
small god, to hear you talk. I declate
I'm half afraid of him, Do you think
he would like me?”
“He would love you, little girl; any-
one would.”
“Don’t be foolish,” she chided me.
And then she drew my head down and
kissed me.
“Oh, I'm so happy,” she said with a
sigh.
“Are you, dearest?”
soft floss of her hair.
Aye, she was happy, and I will al-
ways bless the memory of those days,
and thank God I was the means of
bringing a little gladness into her
marred life. She was happy, and yet
we were living in what society vrould
cali sin. Conventionally we were not
man and wife, and yet were man and
wife more devoted, more self-respect-
ing. Never were man and wife en-
dowed with purer ideals, with a more
exalted conception of the sanctity of
love.
I caressed the
CHAPTER XII
Two men were crawling over the
winter-locked plain. One, the leader.
was of great bulk and of a vast
strength ; while the other was small
anc wiry, of the breed that clings like
a louse to life while better men
perish.
The small man was breaking trail.
Down almost to his knees in the soft
snow, he sank at every step; yet ever
he dragged a’ foot painfully upward,
and made another forward plunge.
“Come on there, you darned little
shrimp; get a move on you,” growled
the big man from within the frost-
fringed hood of his parka.
The little man started as if gal
vanized into sudden life. His eyes,
thickly waddea with frost, glared out
with the fear of a hunted beast.
“Curse him, curse him,” he whim-
bit
pered; but once more he Mfled hows
leaden snowshoes and staggered on.
The big man lashed fiercely at the
dogs, and as they screamed at hit
blows he laughed cruelly.
“Mush on there, you curs, or I'll
cut you in two,” he stormed, and the
heavy whip fell on the yelling pack.
They were pulling for all they were
worth, their heads down, their shoul
ders squared, Their breath came pant.
ingly, their tongues gleamed redly.
their white teeth shone.
Weary and worn were men and dogs
as they struggled onward in the grow
ing gloom, but because of the feeling
in his heart the little man no longer
was conscious of bodily pain. It wus
black murder that raged there.
At last they reached the forest
fringe, and after a few harsh direc
tions the big man had the little one
making camp.
with a strange willingness. As ha
gathered the firewood and filled the
Yukon stove, he hummed a merry air,
He produced sourdough bread (which
he fried in bacon fat), and some dried
moose-meat.
To men of the trail this was a treat.
They ate ravenously, but they did not
speak.
The silence was broken by a whin:
ning and a scratching outside. It was
the five dogs crying for their sup-
per, crying for the frozen fish they
had earned so well. They wondered
why it was not forthcoming.
“Dog feed all gone?”
“Yep,” said,the small man.
“H—1! I'll silence these brutes any-
way.”
He went to the door and laid onto
them so that they slunk away into the
shadows. But they did not bury
themselves in the snow and sleep.
They continued to prowl round the
tent, hunger-mad and desperate.
big man lay down and slept.
The little man did not sleep. He
was still turning over the thought that
had come to him. Outside in the atro-
cious cold the whining malamutes
crept nearer and nearer.
agonies of hunger, they cried for {sh,
and there was none for them, cnly
kicks and curses.
woes to the weary men.
The little man crawled
sleeping bag, but he did not close his
eyes. He was watching.
About dawn he rose. An evil dawn
it was, sallow, sinister and askew.
The little man selected the heavy-
bandled whip for the job.
he felt its butt, then he struck. It
was a shrewd blow and a neatly de-
livered, for the little man had been
in the business before. It fell on the
big man’s head, and he crumpled up.
Then the little man took some raw-
hide thongs and trussed up his victim.
He gathered up the rest of the pro-
visions, made a pack of the food and
lashed it on his back. Then, after a
final 100k of gloating hate, he went off
and left the big man to his fate. At
last the Worm had turned,
* * *® » - * .
The dogs were closing in.
and nearer they drew. They won-
The little man worked |
SAFETY FIRST AIM
OF “D0 X” BUILDER
Why Dornier Constructed
Huge German Plane.
Jerlin.—“Safety First”—this typi-
cally American slogan prompted the
Dornier company to build the gigantic
12-motored “Do X,” the world’s larg-
est airplane,
“Do X” was designed and con-
structed by Dr. Claudius Dornier, it
was declared, principally to demon-
strate that safety in the air can be
substantially increased, and secondar-
ily to prove that airplanes can be
made to pay for themselves. Asked
“What is today the cause of most
aviation accidents?” Dornier officials
listed them as follows:
Causes of Accidents.
“The pilots have too much to do.
They are almost always overworked.
| They must steer the aircraft, keep an
eye on a multitude of instruments and
at the same time navigate the ship.
Moreover, they are rarely protected
against weather changes.
“The motors are almost always
pverstrained. They must run con-
stantly under full power. Stopping
them or repairing them in the air
is hardly to be thought of.
“Gasoline and oil feedpipes and
parts of the steering apparatus are
often inaccessible. Hundreds of emer-
gency landings can be traced to dif-
ficulties arising in this connection.
Such landings often result in serious
accidents.
“Fire forms a tragic chapter in the
history of aviation. The majority of
these fires have been due to gasoline
| leaking from tanks standing close to
Then rolling himself in a robe, the |
overheated motors.”
Making Flying Safer.
Explaining how some, if not all, of
| these drawbacks to safe flying have
In the |
been the Dornier officials
said:
“Aboard the airplane
overcome,
‘Po X’ the
| pilot can devote his attention solely
They howled thelr |
into his |
Carefully |
| worked.
| equipment.
Nearer |
dered why their master did not wake; |
they wondered why the little tent was
so still; why no plume of smoke rose
from the slim stovepipe. All was
oddly quiet and lifeless. Closer and
closer they crept to the silent tent.
The man opened his eyes. Within a
foot of his face were the fangs of a
malamute. At his slight movement it
drew back with a snarl, and retreated
to the door. Locasto could see the
other dogs crouching and eyeing him
fixedly. What could be the marter?
What had gotten into the brutes?
Where was the Worm? Where Were
the provisions? Why was the tent
flap open and the stove stone-cold?
Then with a dawning comprehension
that he had been deserted, Locasto ut-
tered a curse and tried to rise.
At first he thought he was stiff with
cold, but a downward glance showed
him his condition. He was helpless.
He grew sick at the pit of his stom- |
ach, and glared at the dogs. They
were drawing in on him. Their gleam.
ing teeth snapped in his face. Violent-
ly he shuddered. He must try to free
himself, so that he could fight,
(TO BE CONTINUED)
A
Pleasure and Profit in Scorpion Hunting
One of the most peculiar hunting ex-
peditions on record is that which takes
place at more or less regular inter-
vals in the town of Mardine, in Asia
Minor. The town is surrounded by an-
cient walls built to protect it from in-
vaders, and hidden in various places
in these walls are hordes of scorpi-
ons which often become a menace to
the population. In order to keep down
the number of these pests, said to be
death-dealing, a bonus is offered by
the municipality and regular hunts
are organized. The hunts take place
at night when the hunters, armed with
lanterns, poke around the walls and
dislodge the scorpions. The next day
they carry them to the town officials
Oddities in Language
A great many American Indian lan-
guages do not use the sound of “B.”
The famous Aztec language of Mexico
does mot have it and the majority of
North American Indians are unable to
pronounce the sound. However, some
Indian languages have the “B”—for
example, the Jamez tongue of New
Mexico has a perfect “B,” and in Cali:
fornia the Pomo Indians, the most ex:
pert basket makers in the world, have
it. A good example of a proper name
beginning with “B” is Bagil, a woman
heroine in Pomo mythology, about
whom stories are told. Her name is
@gauounced Bab-geel.
and collect the money due them as 8
reward. It frequently happens that
they must wait upon the pleasure of
that official, when they while away the
time by making their ferocious cap-
| bullets.
tives engage in combat. Bets are made |
on the results, and it often happens |
that members of the waiting party
have lost their money before they re-
ceive it.
Business Reverse
The wayfarer was making an appeal
for charity from a well-dressed gentle
man.
“Well,” said the other, “1 seem tg |
remember you. Didn't you have a lit
tle business of some sort once upon &
time?
begging?”
“Yes, I have, sir,” returned the oth-
er. “I've got no other way to get
along since | lost me business.”
“But how did you come to lose it?”
“My business was a one-hand laun
dry,” said the mournful soul, “an’ one
day my wife just up an’ left me.”
Hold the Horses
America faces the responsibility of
handling more power than ever before
was entrusted to a naticn.—Americar
Magazine.
Why does a man always promise t(
&8 good when he's tow glck to be bad
Don’t tell me you've taken up |
to the task of piloting the craft. He
need not be omnipotent or be a pilot,
engineer, navigator and commander
all in one. The technical work will
be handled by an engineer who will
be assisted by a number of specialists.
The commander will be just that; he
will command the ship and the crew,
determine the course to be followed
and so forth. No one will be over-
Each will be able to give
his undivided attention to his special
task.
“Nor will the motors be overtaxed.
They have sufficient surplus power
to make it possible to reduce their
power by 40 per cent immediately
| after the start.
“Up until now, hidden parts on air-
planes have been almost inaccessible.
As for the ‘Do X, provisions have
been made to develop to the utmost
facilities for repairing the motors and
The possibility of making
repairs does not alone depend om ac-
cessibility, but also on the ability to
disconnect damaged parts without in-
terrupting the flight of the airplane.
“The danger of fire has been met
by placing the fuel tanks as far as
possible from motors.”
Argentina Is Ideal
Country for Flying
Washington.—Argentina is an ideal
country for flying, almost the whole
country being a natural landing field,
according to the information section
of the aeronautics branch, Depart-
ment of Commerce.
The country is largely level and the
distances are great. It has been de-
veloping natural resources rapidly and
the public and government are keenly
interested in the development of com-
mercial aviation.
These conditions, prevailing in a
country heretofore lacking adequate
transportation facilities, indicate great
potential development of the industry.
There are, according to recent dis-
yatches, approximately 20 regularly
I PI 3
equipped airports in the country.
Camera Shoots Plane,
Shows Bullet’s Route
New York.—In outward appearance,
shape and weight, an exact duplicate
of the standard machine gun used on
fighting planes, a recently devised mo-
tion picture camera enables military
aviators to practice all the evolutions
of aerial combat in entire safety from
Instead of firing bullets, the
gun cameras take small photographs
showing exactly where bullets would
have struck.
The exact time of the exposure also
is registered, so that aviators practic-
ing “dog-fights” can determine which
would have been shot down if the
fights had been actual.
Texas Youth Only 18
Gets Pilot’s License
Fort Worth, Texas.—Homer
Truax, eighteen-year-old Fort
Worth flyer, may be the young-
est aviator in the country to
possess a transport pilot's li-
cense,
Veteran flyers call the boy
‘just a natural born pilot,” He
won the highest rating granted
by the Department of Com-
merce after a year and a half of
experience. Most of his les-
sons were taken piecemeal.
Truax is employed as a pilot
by Fort Worth oil men and air-
plane distributors.
JUMPS FROM PLANE
NOT FOR PRISONER
He Didn't Try to Escape on
Flight to Colorado.
Denver, Colo, — Prisoners of the
law who think nothing of jumping
from speeding trains as a method of
escaping, would doubtless give the mat-
ter a second thought before taking
this route to freedom while being
transported in an airplane.
At least a Colorado sheriff who was
returning a pr#¥oner to Lamar, Colo.,
from Chicago recently, found no trou-
ble keeping his man aboard the ship,
according to Pilot J. G. Ingram, of
Universal Air lines, who flew the Fok-
ker trimotor on which the two were
passengers and thus probably became
the first pilot to serve the law in this
manner,
The sheriff was L. E. Alderman, of
Lamar, and his prisoner was a sus-
pect in the robbery of the Lamar bank
in May, 1928, which resulted in the
killing of the bank president and his
son and the subsequent murder of a
kidnaped teller and of a doctor who
dressed the wounds of one of the ban-
dit gang. The two were traveling by
plane because Sheriff Alderman want-
ed to get his man to Colorado before
he changed his mind about waiving
extradition.
“The air was bumpy,” relates In.
gram, “and the prisoner got very air-
sick. It was his first flight and he
seemed to get a great kick out of it
up to the time when he began to no-
tice the bumpiness.
“He wore handcuffs, although they
were not fastened to the sheriff's
wrist, and all the other passengers
knew that they had a suspected mur-
derer in the cabin with them.”
It has been thought that criminals
have made good their disappearance
from scenes of their crimes by board-
ing air liners, but this is the first time
one of the fraternity has been re-
turned via air.
BOOSTS AIR DEFENSE
Thomas L. Hill, war flyer and presi-
dent of the American Society for Pro-
motion of Aviation, who is leading a
movement to have congress appropri-
ate $40,000,000 to provide airplanes
free of charge to civilian flying clubs
organized throughout the United
States. Under this plan, according to
the society, 250,000 trained flyers
would be available for any national
emergency within a period of five
years,
Plane With Pontocns
Lands Well in Field
Montreal.—Giuseppe M. Bellanca
now has a new precept for pilots fly-
ing his planes with pontoon landing
gears—if you can't make the water
make a hay field! Harold P. Ayers,
Montreal flyer, found out about it re-
cently while returning from a fishing
trip in the Laurentian lake region.
A water-clogged fuel line betrayed the
faith in Wright motors that lured him
out over twenty miles of land, but the
“fast” landing he executed didn’t even
open the seams in his metal pontoons.
When the gas line had been cleaned
the plane was rolled on beaching
wheels to the nearest water and
launched again.
Flyers Learn to Avoid
Sensation of Falling
San Antonio, Texas.—The sensa-
tion of faliing may be an optical illu-
sion, after all.
Two lieutenants at Brooks field,
Robert J. Smith and Frederick K.
Sauer, have discovered that no falling
sensation is felt if neither the earth
nor the starting point of descent is
visible to a parachute jumper,
With eight men, none of whom had
made a parachute jump before, they
left planes simultaneously. Under di-
rections they did not look at the craft
or the ground below. None reported
that they felt the sensation of falling.
Capital’s Big Airport
Construction of a thousand-acre air-
port in Washington, D. C., is under
way. The field will give the National
Capital adequate commercial airport
facilities. It may be reached from the
center of Washington In less than ten
minutes.
NEVER wait to see if a headache
will “wear off.” Why suffer
when there’s Bayer Aspirin? The
millions of men and women who
use it in increasing quantities every
year prove that it does relieve such
pain. The medical profession pro-
nounces it without effect on the
heart, so use it as often as it can
spare you any pain. Every druggist
always has genuine Bayer Aspirin
for the prompt relief of a headache,
colds, neuralgia, lumbago, etc. Fa-
miliarize yourself with the proven
directions in every package.
Aspirin is the trade mark of Bayer Manufacturd
of Monoaceticacidester of Salicylicacid «
To Avoid Infection
Use Hanford's
Balsam of Myrrh
All dealers are authorized to refund your money
for the first bottle If not suited
Take
HERE Biesor
The Chlorine Way
5c at your druggist’s or write
3
Bessell Chemical Co., Hackensack, N. J.
Corn Flakes Employed
for “Movie” Snowstorm
There is still hope for the salva-
tion of the great American corn raiser.
Corn has gone into the movies im
a business-like way. Heretofore the
slapstick comedies may have used a
few roasting-ears, with sound effects,
but now corn is going into Hollywood
in a determined manner and mingling
with the great and near great in its
most commonplace form—hominy.
“The film experts,” says Farm and
Fireside, “have discovered that there
is nothing quite so good as corn flakes
for faking a real, old-fashioned bliz-
zard. The corn flakes are specially
made from hominy and are thin, white
and airy. A bushel of corn flakes and
an electric fan will make a snowstorm
anywhere, even in California.”
Coal From Ice Fields
Every once in a while some scien-
tist undertakes to figure out the
amount of coal available, but it
seems to be generally agreed among
polar explorers that the world’s great-
est untouched coal fields lie in the
Antarctic. There have been several
reports of the presence of coal in the
Antarctic regions and it is expected
that they will be confirmed by Byrd.
Extreme of Boldness
“She certainly is a bold thing.”
“Terribly, She even high-hats her
milliner.”
Uh?
“Women no longer wear elaborate
hats.”
“Well, who looks at hats?”
A Sour
Stomach
In the same time it takes a dose of
soda to bring a little temporary relief
of gas and sour stomach, Phillips
Milk of Magnesia has acidity complete-
ly checked, and the digestive organs
all tranquilized. Once you have tried
this form of relief you will cease to
worry about your diet and experience
a new freedom in eating,
This pleasant preparation is just as
good for children, too. Use it when-
ever coated tongue or fetid breath
signals need of a sweetener. Physi
cians will tell you that every spoon-
ful of Phillips Milk of Magnesia neu-
tralizes many times its volume in acid,
Get the genuine, the name Phillips is
important, Imitations do not act the
same!
PHILLIPS
Milk
of Magnesia
THE FEA
‘
eof
my ree
hed
FY
{
MICKIE,
—_——
Bi ——————
T
Clancy
Timmie Cou.
Cents Ver
© by the McClure Ne