£| BEDTIME STORY
| By THORNTON W. BURGESS
More trouble from
SALLY SLY
A FEW mornings after his talk
with Jenny Wren about Red
eye the Vlreo, Peter once more
visited the Old Orchard. No sooner
did he come In sight than Jenny
Wren's tongue began to fly. “What
did I tell you, Peter Rabbit? What
did 1 tell you? I knew It was so,
and It Is!” cried Jenny.
“What Is so?” asked Peter rather
testily, for be hadn't the least Idea
what Jenny Wren was talking
about
“Sally Sly did lay an egg In Red
eye's nest and now It has hatched,
and 1 don't know whatever Is to
become of Redeye’s own children.
It’s perfectly scandalous,” cried
Jenny, and hopped about and Jerked
her tall and worked herself Into a
small brown fury.
“The Redeyes are working them
selves to feathers and bone feeding
that ugly yonng cowbird, while their
"What Did I Tell You, Peter Rab
bit? What Did I Tell Your
own babies aren't getting half
enough to eat,” she continued.
“One of them has died already. He
was kicked out of the nest by that
young brute.”
“HoW dreadful 1” cried Peter. “If
he does things like that I should
think the Redeyes would throw him
out of the nest.”
‘They're too soft-hearted," sold
Jenny. “I can tell yon I wouldn't
be so soft-hearted. No, slree, I
wouldn’t! But they say It Isn’t his
fault that he's there, that he's noth
ing but a helpless baby, so they
just must take care of him.”
‘Then why don’t they feed their
You Know
the early Grecian 1 I
boxen, while in training LI
for a bout, were given a
diet of new cheese, dried
figs, add boiled grain, with
warm water and no meat
L- OM<Qw HcOTpayw lyadWin |
WNU Service
own babies flrst and giro him
what’s left?" asked Peter.
“Because he's twice as big as an;
of their own babies and so strong
and greed; that he slmpl; snatches
the food out of the very mouths of
the others. Because he gets most
of the food be Is growing twice as
fast as the; are. I wouldn't be sur
prised If he kicks all the rest of
them out before be gets through.
Mr. and Mrs. Redeye are dreadfully
distressed about It, but the; will
feed him, because the; say It Isn’t
his fault It's a dreadful affair, and
the talk of the whole orchard. I
suppose his mother Is gadding about
somewhere, having a good time and
not caring a flip of her tall feathers
what becomes of him. I believe In
being good hearted. I certainly do.
But there Is such a thing as over
doing the matter. Thank goodness
I’m not so weak minded that I can
be Imposed on In such a way as
that.”
“That may be so," replied Peter,
"but just the same I can’t help feel
ing a lot of respect for Mr. and Mrs.
Redeye because of their klndheart
edness.”
©, T. W. Burr***-—WNtI Servlc*.
TTHROUGH a
WOMAN'S
EYES • NEWTON
“A MIND THAT NOTHING CAN
IRRITATE"
«(ITE IS a man of rarest equa
*1 nlmlty. His achievements
were possible only to a mind that
nothing could irritate."
We find that in the biography of
a great man. Incidentally It points
out the source of a tremendous
waste of which men and women are
the victims.
It is the waste of health and
strength and mentality and fine
abilities because of the lack of that
quality of equanimity.
I think women suffer much more
from the frustration caused by
that kind of waste than men, for
women are far more vulnerable to
the irritations, as we can personify
the many annoyances of every day,
the innumerable ways in which we
can allow ourselves to be distract
ed, If we will, from the big points
of Issue.
Equanimity 1 A grain of It is
worth large quantities of some
of the other ingredients of success
or happiness. For without It a
large part of those Ingredients Is
burnt up. With It almost second
rate material can frequently be
transmuted into something worth
while. It occurs to me that that
quality of poise and calm which we
call equanimity acts on our abilities
as the gastric Juices act on food.
It makes most of them. Without It
they are squandered.
That Is why many women with
fine abilities—whether they happen
to be In creating happiness In the
home, making most of their chil
dren, or writing books or painting
pictures—make nothing of their
possibilities. They allow the little
snags and hitches of every day life
to thwart them. Momentary annoy
ances In the details of living irri
tate them and throw them off their
main track.
It is far from easy, of course, to
live always in the light of a true
sense of values, to see the irrita
tions always In perspective, and
World’s Largest “Vacuum Cleaners”
IN UShi at Los Angeles harbor are giant machines that are called the
largest “racaom cleaners" in the world. They are for unloading copra,
sacking up 08 tons sn honr from the holds of ships that bring that com
modity from the Islands of the Pacific. One of them Is here shown un
loading copra from the motorshlp Asia.
ON BEING
LATE
86
By R. B. WILKINSON
A Ball Syndicate.—WNU BarvkM.
Barbara williams u the
sort of person who never ar
rive* anywhere on time.
If yon have an appointment to
meet her oh a certain street corner
at a certain time, you can depend
upon her being at least a half hour
late, and safely regulate your own
time of arrival accordingly.
No matter what the circum
stances or how Important the func
tion Barbara concerns herself not
with promptness.
Of course she Is always full of
excuses and apologies, and actually
gives the Impression of being
frightfully sorry that “something
intervened so she just couldn’t
make It"
Moreover, she Is a wholly lovable
person, possessed of an Incredibly
sweet disposition, and delightful
company.
And when she looks at you with
deep concern and pleading written
In her rather attractive brown eyes,
you are apt to cover your annoy
ance with a forgiving smile and
hope that next time she'll make an
effort to be more accommodating.
There have been numberless sug
gestions offered for cures for peo
ple having this being late fault
But most always these sugges
tlona are offered by persons who
don't have to live with folks like
Barbara Williams.
It Is quite simple when you ate
not dependent on a Barbara Wil
liam* for one thing and another, to
suggest tyrannical methods of ef
fecting a cure.
w w w
Dick Williams, who Is Barbara’s
husband. Is an easy going sort of
person, and'for a time after their
marriage In 1928 his wife’s tardi
ness didn’t bother him a great deal
But as their wedded life pro
gressed, the thing began to get on
his nerves.
After a year of meeting Barbara
downtown once each week on
Thursday nights In order that they
might dine out together, and hiv
ing to wait 80 minutes beyond the
scheduled time, he spoke of the
matter, at first casually, then more
seriously and finally In an outburst
of anger.
And on such occasions Barbara
would turn the full power of her
large brown eyes on him and nod
her head In sad agreement.
*T don’t blame you, darling,” she'd
say. “Not a bit 1 should try to be
on time, shouldn’t I?"
And Dick would rage: “You cer
tainly should 1 Why, It's positively
selfish. Insulting. Folks Invite you
places and you can’t even pay them
the courtesy of arriving on time!
You ought to be ashamed I”
“I am,” Barbara would admit
humbly. “I am ashamed, precious.”
And “precious” would get up and
take her In his arms and kiss her
and tell her he was sorry he had
talked to her so, but something
really ought to be done fkbout It
A i A
Which would bring the matter to
a close, and Barbara on the day fol
lowing wonld accept in Invitation
to a bridge party at tfiree In the
afternoon and would arrive at 3:30,
having forgotten or disregarded her
Arm resolutions made In Dick's
presence on the night before.
The thing at length reached a
point where Dick, driven to exas
peration, his nerves on edge, his
pride Injured, determined that some
drastic step would have to be taken
to effect a cure.
It must end.
He loved Barbara, he knew, more
sincerely and deeply than did the
average husband In this day and
age.
She -had no other faults that
were worth mentioning.
She qualiAed in every respect as
' a wife and companion and help
mate tn hts chosen profession.
Tet, despite everything—every
thing, by golly—she had to be cured
of this one deAclency, or one, per
haps both of them, would go crasy.
• • •
And forthwith Dick set himself
down to think and scheme and plan
to the best of his ability.
Add after an hour of deep men
tal labor, he hit on an Idea.
Today was Tuesday. Friday next
would mark their second anniver
sary.
It meant a lot to Barbara. A
great lot
She had been talking ^bout It,
planning on It for weeks. She had
bought a new frock tn which to
celebrate.
She had selected the place where
they were to dine, chosen the the
ater which they would attend after
ward.
It was, in fact a big day tn her
life.
A thrilling, romantic, cherished
hpur during which she could be
alone with her husband and tell
him how perfectly adorable he was
and how happy she’d been during
the past two years.
Dick’s plan, taking all the above
Into consideration, was, on the sur
face, cruel
And yet he told himself savagely
It was no more than dip deserved.
It would, he wagered, cure her
onch hud for all of her great fault
And ah» having tedded to pro
mot* hla brilliant Idea, Dlek ad
vised hla wtfe that on Friday eve
ning he would meet her on the cor
ner of Tremont and Boylston
streets at exactly five o’clock.
He would, be aald, leave the of
fice early In order to get there.
This would allow them plenty of
time for dinner, without having to
hurry. , .
Barbara waa thrilled.
She thought he might have for
gotten.
The fact that be had voluntarily
mentioned the great day increased
her happiness 100 per cent
She klsfied him tenderly and
agreed to the time and place of the
meeting.
During the Intervening days be
fore Friday Dick felt father low.
He hated to resort to such tricks;
he hated to make Barbara unhappy
If It could be prevented.
She was so wholly lovable and
trusting. Tet he must go through
with It It was the only way.
She must be cur^d.
And ao when, at last Friday
rolled around, Dick left the office
early as previously planned, but In
stead of driving In town toward the
agreed meeting place, he turned hla
car toward the suburbs and honfe
He drove slowly, moodily.
Once or twice he almost changed
his mind, but the traffic waa heart
and turning about would be diffi
cult ¥
He parked hla car In the garage
which ho rented, a couple of blocks
from the house, and sat In It a few
moments, unhappily contemplating
the blank wall ahead.
It waa now 0:15, and he judged
that Barbara would Just about be
arriving at Tremont and Bolyston.
He couldn’t conceive of her being
more than a quarter hour late on
their anniversary.
w w w
Presently he climbed from the
machine, closed and locked the ga
rage doors, Sighed heavily, and
started home. It was, he reflected,
going to be k pretty trying scene
when they faced each other later
that evening.
He pictured her now, standing on
the corner, looking about for him,
an anxlodS expression in her brown
eyes.
He saw her garbed In her new
gown, the dress she had bought and
preserved for this occasion.
He saw the eager anticipation in
her face; the growing disappoint
ment and despair when he didn’t
come.
-It’* no more than she deserves,’’
he told himself savagely.
“I'll cure her once and for all of
tills habit of being late. She de
serves It!”
Yet as he swung Into the walk
and unlocked the front door, a feel
ing of utter misery swept over him.
He felt like a cad, sneaky, utter
ly unhappy. He wished mightily
that be had decided against the
idea.
It was an underhanded thing to
do, .a pretty low way of getting
back.
• • •
He entered the living room, flung
his hat on thA divan and slumped
dejectedly Into a chair.
Guilt arid shame and misery were
written On his face. And suddenly
hA gave way to the urge he had
been lighting against.
He leaped to hid feet, glanced At
his watch, discovered It Was exact
ly 5:35 and decided that If he hur
ried be could get in town In ten
minutes. He could offer some ex
cuse. A flat tire. Engine trouble.
Anything to explain— .
Abruptly be stopped, stared,
swallowed, rubbed his eyed.
The bedroom door had opened.
Barbara stood there, resplendent
In her new gown, her bat on her -
head, gloves In her hands, bag
tucked uhder her arm.
At sight of him her eyes wid
ened. She rushed across the room.
"Darling! Oh, precious, how
sweet of you to think of coming
home to get me 1 I wondered If you
were Intending to let me ride In on
the dirty street care. And you got
here Just In time, too. ! was Just
about to leave I Another moment
and I would have been gone I"
Dick stared and blinked and tried
to adjust bis confused thoughts
Five thirty-live his watch had
said.
And she was Just about to leave !
And on their anniversary, tool
Rage seized him.
He opened his mouth to speak,
checked blmself, saw her big brown
eyes looking at him so tenderly, Ao
lovably, so adorably.
A feeling of helplessness utter,
stark helplessness took possession
of him. He wondered What he'd
better do, wondered what he could
do, wondered what Anyone else In
his place would do. And then de
cided that, under the circum
stances there was only one thing
he could do. And' he did It. He
drew her toward him, folded his
arms about her and kissed her.
Ostrich Fast Runner
The ostrich, one of the swiftest
creatures on earth, tisea Its out
spread wings to help It In running,
and It can thus reach an amatlng
speed. Unfortunately for the bird.
It doss not ran straight, but In
large circles so that a hunter
mounted on a horse much lees
swift than the ostrich can cut cor
ners and thus get within gunshot
of his quarry. The ostrlcjh feeds
mostly oq grass and vegetable mat
CHIEF WINTER MOON and a band of fellow Indians have started In
a covered wagon on a trek from Washington, D. C., to Oregon, follow
ing the route taken by Jason Lee, Methodist missionary, in 1834. They
will reach Oregon In time to take part In the celebration of the one
hundredth anniversary of the missionary’s arrival on September a In
our Illustration United States Senator Charles L. McNary of Oregon Is
seen shaking hands with Chief Winter Moon as most of the Oregon dele
gation In congress and Senator Pope of Idaho look on.
therefore In their true unimportance
—to keep the important part of
ourselves where nothing can Irritate
It It Is far from easy. But It Is
the secret of much In accomplish
ment, happiness, really living.
fe Ball Syndicate.—WNU Service.
Dear Mr. Wynn:
What Is your opinion of married
life, don’t you think It Is the hap
piest life?
Sincerely,
MAY DENN.
Answer—It all depends how the
two people enjoy themselves.
Dear Mr. Wynn:
Yesterday a tramp came to my
back door and asked for something
to eat I gave him a meal on his
promise to cut my lawn. He ate
the meal but he ran away and
never kept his promise to eut the
lawn. What do you think of thatt
Yours truly,
L FEEL ORFUL.
Answer—It just goes to show that
you must never take the word
of a total stranger.
Dear Ur. Wynn:
My sweetheart and I are going
on a bike next Sunday. We in
tend walking cross country. My
girl weighs 197V4 lbs. What I want
to know is this: When we come to
a fence, Is It my place to “help" her
over the fence?
Truly youri,
P. DESTRIAN.
Answer—My dear boy, as your
girl weighs nearly 200 pounds, it Is
your place to “help” the fence.
Dear Mr. Wynn:
A friend of mine says he knows
a pair of twin girls that, whatever
you tell them, must be told to them
together. Why is that?
Yours truly,
RAY D. OHK.
Answer—That Is because the
twins look so much alike, they can't
be told apart
CX the Associated Newspapers
WNU Service
PALATABLE PUDDINGS
DURING! the warm months more
delicate puddings of fruit and
eggs in the form of souffles are
much enjoyed.
Lemon Souffle.
Beat the yolks of four eggs until
thick and lemon colored, add one
cup of sugar very slowly and con
tinue beating, then add the grated
rind and juice of a lemon. Cut and
fold In the whites of four eggs
beaten stiff and turn into a but
tered baking dish; set In a pan of
“An oidtlmer Id on* who oan re
member back,” aayd autododglng
Dot, “when there was nothing along
the atroeto to worry about except
binand peele”
fc Ml Bra4le*ta.—WKU sarrlee.
A CORNER IN
MY HEART
'
By ANNE CAMPBELL
YOU have a little corner In my
heart,
A aunny apace belonging Just to
you,
With windows open so the gentle
art
Of brown wren singing may come
drifting through.
There Is a garden, and the fra
gance drifts
Into the little corner where yon
are.
And In the evening palest moon
light sifts
In my glad heart, and there’s an
evening star.
Now you are gone, the sun no long
er shines.
The garden dowers are dead, the
moon no more
Looks down in splendor through
the trumpet vines.
The star Is absent from my heart’s
wrenched door.
A little corner of my heart is dull
And dusty that you made so beau
tiful!
Copyrlaht.—WNU Barries.
hot water. Bake 39 minutes. Serve
without sauce.
Spanish Souffle.
Melt one-fourth of a cupful of
butter, add one-half cup of stale
bread crumbs, cook until slightly
browned, stirring often; add one
cup of milk, two tablespoons of
sugar, cook 20 minutes In a double
boiler; remove from the lire, add
the unbeaten yolks of three eggs
and cut and fold in the stiffly beat
en whites. Add flavor and bake as
any souffle.
Graham Pudding.
Melt one-fourth of a cup of but
ter, add one-half cup of molasses,
one-half cup of milk and a well
beaten egg. Mix together one and
one-half cups of graham flour, one
half teaspoon of soda, one teaspoon
of salt, and one cupful of seeded
raisins cut fine. Turn Into a but
tered mold, cover and steam two
and one-half hours. Serve with
any fruit sauce. Dates or figs may
be used In place of the rnlsins for
variety.
A sauce to serve on angel food
makes a most tasty pudding pre
pared thus: Cream one-tblrd of a
cup of butter, add one cup of pow
dered sugar very slowly, one egg
white beaten stiff and two-thirds of
a cup of mashed strawberries. Beat
until well blended, then add with
whipped cream for a garnish.
C by Western Newspaper Union.
Chic Ensemble
Patent leather flowers In black,
white and yellow, dictate the colon
of Ihe print dress in this ensemble
with a black wool coat—From
Bergdorf Goodman.
WITTY KITTY )
By NINA WILCOX PUTNAM ^
The girl chum says It Is no oacisi
to pay for the dance now that th«
piper Is called a saxophonist.
WNtJ Barrie*
The City Gardener