Bedtime storI?
'By THORNTON W. BURGESS4
ANOTHER MEMBER OF A
BIG FAMILY
PETER RABBIT was Just about
to ask If he might go along with
Chewlnk and see his nest when a
new voice broke In. “What are you
fellows talking about?” It demand
ed, and there flitted just In front of
Peter a little bird the size ot a spar
row, but lovelier than any sparrow
of Peter’s acquaintance. At first
glance he seemed to be all blue, and
such a lovely bright blue! But as
he paused for an Instant Peter saw
that his wings and tall were mostly
“You Ought to Be Thankful, Peter
Rabbit, That You Haven’t a Coat
Like Hla.”
black, and tbat the lovely blue was
brighter on his head and back. It
was Indigo the Bunting.
“We were talking about our fam
ily," replied Chewlnk. “I was tell
ing Peter that we belonged to
the largest family among the birds.”
"But you didn’t say anything
about Indigo,’’ Interrupted Peter.
"Do you mean to say that he be
longs to the same family?’’
“I surely do,’’ replied Indigo. “I’m
rather closely related to the Spar
row branch. Don’t I look like a
Sparrow?”
Peter looked at Indigo closely. “In
size and shape you do,” he con
fessed, “but Just the same I should
never In the world have thought of
connecting you with the Sparrows.”
“How about me?” asked another
voice, and a little brown bird flew
up beside Indigo, twitching her tall
nervously. She looked very Spar
row-like, Indeed, so much so that
had not Peter seen her with her
handsome mate, for she was Mrs.
Indigo, he certainly would have
taken her for a sparrow. Only on
her wings and tall was there any
of the blue which made Indigo’s coat
so beautiful, and this was only a
faint tinge.
“I'll have to confess that so far
as yon are concerned It Isn’t hard
to think of you as related to the
I lo You Know—
That the pen kiiife had its
origin in the days when peo
ple wrote with quill pens.
The quills wore or broke
'and it became necessary at
unexpected moments to
sharpen or reshape them.
Convenience decreed a
handy knife which could be
carried in the pocket, hence
the "pen knife.”
by 11cClura Newapapar Byndloata
WNU Barvloa.
Sparrows," declared Peter. “Don’t
you sometimes wish you were as
handsome as Indigo?"
Mrs. Indigo shook her bead In the
most decided way. “Never,” she de
clared. “I have worries enough
raising a family as It Is, but if 1
bad a coat like his I wouldn't have
a moment of peace. You have no
Idea how I worry about hln. some
times. You ought to be thankful,
Peter Rabbit, that you haven’t a
coat like his. It attracts altogether
too much attention.” .
Peter trle^l to picture himself In
a bright blue coat and laughed right
out at the mere thought and the
others joined with him. Then In
digo flew to the top of a tall tree
and began to sing. It was a lively
song and Peter enjoyed It thorough
ly. Mrs. Indigo took this opportu
nity to slip away unobserved, and
when Peter looked around for Che
wlnk, he, too, had disappeared. He
had gone to tell Mrs. Chewlnk that
he was quite safe and that she had
nothing to worry about.
Q. T. W. Burgess.—WNU Service.
Question Box
By ED WYNN
Tht Porfoet Fool
Dear Mr. Wynn:
1 am a boy eight years old, and
am In the fourth grade at school.
My teacher has offered a prize for
the boy who can write a sentence
with the two words "Peaches” and
"Qruesome" In the same sentence.
Can you help me out?
Yours truly,
A. TRUANT.
Answer. Sure 1' can help you.
Here Is a sentence with both words
you mention In It: "The man plant
ed an orchard full of trees and
‘gruesome’ peaches.”
Dear Mr. Wynn:
What la meant when they say:
“A man died standing up”?
Truly yours,
M. BALMER.
Answer: When a man dies stand
ing up It means his feet are so
large he can’t fall over.
Dear Mr. Wynn:
My father and I like to go to the
theater. We are both very fond of
all kinds of shows. But after every
show we disagree as to Its merits.
He Insists the shows today are not
like the shows when he was my age.
If there Is any difference will you
kindly tell me about It?
Truly yours,
L a PLATS.
Answer: The only difference 1
notice Is that It has changed from
the “ears” to the “eyes." What I
mean is, years ago we used to go
to the theater to hear “new ditties,”
now we go to the theater to see
“nudities.”
Dear Mr. Wynn:
Id a discussion last evening, the
prohibition subject arose. We
spoke of all the money being nade
by bootleggers. One man said that
the money made In bootlegging .was
by men who formerly manufactured
sausages. Why should they know
more about It than others?
Truly yours,
FRANK FURTER.
Answer: The reason sausage mak
ers turn out to be good bootleggers
Is because of the fact that they
have been used to selling things
“under cover."
Dear Mr. Wynn:
I have just returned from a trip
around the world. While In Turkey,
1 noticed the Turkish peasants
looked very dirty. I have never seen
such dirty people. Why are they so
dirty?
Truly yours,
SUE EZZ.
Answer: You can’t look clean un
less you bathe. The Turkish peas
ants look so dirty because they ex
Have These London Bobbies Gone Balmy?
«
TUJ&Uti London policemen really are not crazy, nor are they committing
suicide ah they Jump from the West India dock Into the Thames.
When patrolling the docks la foggy weather the police must wear Ufa
Jacket*, and at regular lutarrala they are required to tost this equipment
? *
I Latorra Family Probably Holds the Record |
MIKE LATOIUU and hla wife
(at right of line) with their
nineteen children, of Chicago, were
bonored by officials of A Century
ot Progress as the largest recorded
living family of Italian parentage
in the United States.’ Mike Is espe
cially proud of the fact that they
bave gone through the depression
on their own power, with not a cent
of charity.
THE NIGHT
BEFORE YOUR
BIRTHDAY
By ANNE CAMPBELL
THIS spent rear will not come
again,
A happy year of childhood done,
When every path was broad and
plain,
And there wag never dearth of
sun.
fou may not call Its magic back, ,
Although Time gives you-wlsdom’s
gold;
And often you will feel the lack
Of Its allure when you are old.
A careless, happy, sunny year
Has slipped Into the evening
skies,
For you the future has no fear.
It climbs on straight to Paradise.
Upon each birthday eve, dear child,
May you with the same trustful
gaze.
Look backward on hours undeflled,
And forward to enchanting days I
WNU Service
port all the Turkish baths to this
country.
Ct the Associated Newspaper*
WNU Service.
THROUGH A
Wjmans Eyes
By JEAN NEWTON
THINGS WE SHOULD ALL
BE AFRAID OF
THE well known psychologist, Al
bert Edward Wlggam, tells of
the findings of scientists who hare
been at work for the last 30 years
finding out about the things human
beings are afraid of, and why. And
there are, we are told, three kinds
of fear.
The first Is “natural" fear—the
kind that preserves you from nat
ural perils; the second Is Intelligent
or constructive fear—the kind you
get “from sound, healthful educa
tion," and the third Is destructive
fear—the kind that comes from a
wrong view of life, “from wrong
comparisons with other people, from
wrong attitudes toward your Job,
and from telling yourself you are
not as Important as others."
By the first or "natural" fear Is
meant, of course, that Instinct of
self preservation which keeps us
from stepping off the roof or put
ting our hands In the mouth of a
lion. We all know that We know,
too, the third kind of fear—only too
well. Being afraid of things that
we should stand up to and take in
one stride, the kind of fear that
some people call worry, that makes
cowards die many times before
their death, that Is the fear that is
familiar as one of the most destruc
tive forces In life.
The kind of fear that many of us
6IRU96P I
“Ths first thing a atsnographsr
haa to learn/ 'says typing Til lie, “Is
that a typewriter lent ana ef thoas
things that goes an werfclng while
yea sleep.”
* Ban sodlesu.—WKB asrrla*.
never thought of under that name
is tile second fear on the list of the
scientists—“Intelligent or construc
tive fear." It Is the kind of fear
that should be taught sfnall boys
who think the way to be-<lalahads
is being afraid of nothing. They
should be told, “have courage, fear
nothing—except—“
And that except Is the “Intelli
gent” fear—or weakness, of Inflict
ing pain, of doing harm, of forming
destructive habits. It Is a fear
which Instills good Judgment, which
balances the recklessness of youth,
which makes for responsibility. It
Is merely the negative side of build
ing character. These are some
things we should be afraid of.
©. Bell Syndicate.—WNU Service.
SEASONABLE GOODIES
FOU a sandwich bread, or to serve
as fresh sliced bread, the follow
ing recipe Is excellent:
Orange Bread.
Take three cups of flour, six level
teaspoons of baking powder, one
half teaspoon of salt, one well-beai
en egg, one and one-half cups of
milk, one-fourth cup of sugar, one
half cup of candled orange peel
finely chopped. Mix and sift the
dry Ingredients, add the beaten egg
a$d milk and beat all well. Pour
Into a bread pan and let stand for
45 minutes, then bake 50 minutes In
a moderate oven.
Peach Cake Dessert.
Bake a sponge cake and cut Into
founds about the size of half a
peach. Cover with a frosting pre
pared as follows: Cream two table
spoonfuls of butter, add the beaten
egg yolks, then gradually one-half
i cup of confectioner's sugar flavor
with a few drops of orange extract
If necessary the frosting may be
thinned with some of the peach
sirup. Drain halves of peaches In
a sieve. Spread the frosting on
the top and sides of the cakes and
roll In tinted coconut. On the top
place a halved peach, cut side down.
Serve as dessert.
Apricot Henri.
Take one can of apricots (No. 2
can), put through a sieve, add one
and one-half cups of orange juice,
a pinch of salt and one cup of
sugar. Add the sirup from the can
and the other Ingredients to the ap
ricot puree and freeze. Let stand
an hour or two to ripen. Serve
topped with a spoon of whipped
cream.
Graham Crackar Dessert.
Roll a half-pound or more of gra
bam crackers until fine crumbs, add
enough melted butter to moisten.
Place In a layer In a baking dish,
Cover with lemon seasoned apple
sduce, add another layer of cracker
crumbs and sauce until the dish Is
filled. Bake In a moderate oven
three-fourths of an hour. Cool and
For Country Use
Chardonlzed yarn Is used to wake
this three-piece suit In dark blue
and white. It looks like boucle, but
Is Inexpensive and won’t stretch
The straight skirt has a swagger
jacket to match and the fitted white
blouse Is trimmed at the round neck
with an applique In navy. For coun
try use, and even In town, this suit
will see you through the summer
and Into the early days of fall.
WITTY KITTY
By NINA WILCOX PUTNAM __
1-*)
co it»4, Hr i«n «r»di«w)Ea
The girl chum says It’a amazing
how many more mothballs It takes
to stors away a toboggan suit than
a bathing suit.
WNU Sarvlc*
place in the Ice chest. Turn out
and serve with whipped cream th«
next day.
6 Weatarn Nawapaper Union.
Vacationing at Home
\V\ 60IN61t> SPEND TOE
NEXT TWO WEEKS ON
THIS PORCH AND REST
t'M MORE TIRED
At THt END Of
MY VACATION
THAN WHIN
IT 5TABT6D
STALEMATE
RENDEZVOUS
By THAYER WALDO^
©, by McClure JJewepaper Syndicate *
WNU Service .
Mark mansfield raised
his eyes from the magazine
as Satoh came In and
queried affably:
“Well, my boy, what’s the good
word?”
The Japanese beamed and came
to a stop by Mark's chair, holding
forth a small silver salver on which
lay several letters.
“Mall of the afternoon having ar
rived, sir. I bring only those with
writing that have familiarity," he
added. “Others from studio I are
leaving In sacks, as per the usual.”
“Ah—lots of fan mall today, eh?
Seems to get larger all the time.
Well, let’s see the personals."
Satoh handed him,the top letter
from the tray, saying:
“Excuse, please—this one pretty
extra Important, I suggest.”
The actor glanced at the small,
neat script In purple Ink and took
It eagerly.
“I should say so! Anything from
Anita always comes first, and—.
Well, I’ll be hanged! A San Fran
cisco postpark. That's queer; she
didn't say anything Saturday about
going up. Now I wonder what . .
His voice trailed oft as he slit
the flap, drew out the single sheet
of paper and unfolded It.
There were only three lines of
writing:
“Darling: Meet me In the Hotel
Admiral lounge at ten Tuesday eve
ning. I think we can arrange what
we planned. Hastily, Anita.”
Mansfield bounded out of the
chair, all casualness gone from his
manner, and cried:
“Great Scott! Satoh—get an ov
ernight bag ready, quick!”
The valet scurried away without
question.
Mansfield strode to the phone and
dialed. 1 v
“What time,” he asked, when con
nection was made, “does the next
plane leave for Frisco? . . . And
can one of your cars go direct from
the field to the Hotel Admiral? . . .
All right—hold a seat for me.
What? . . . Oh—er—J. It. Johnson.”
• ••••*•
Dashing Into the room where
Satoh was packing a gladstone, the
actor said exultantly r
“Welt, after l return from this
trip there’ll probably be* thre&.. of
ns here. How does that strlke^ou?”
The Oriental showed a wide row
of gleaming teeth.
"I think pretty too nice for you.
Miss French very fine quality girl,
all right. But how’s about her fa
ther which don’t like actors and
you special?”
Mark spun around with a sud
den look of comprehension, ex
claiming: __
“Of course—her father! I’d for
gotten about him. That makes it
all clear. She’s gone up there to
escape his interference and prob
ably plans that we’ll fly to Nevada
for the wedding. Swell!”
Half an hour later Mansfleld
stepped from his limousine at the
terminal entrance of Grand Central
airport and approached the ticket
window.
“Reservation for J. J. Johnson,"
he said.
The man behind the grating
stared at him and then smiled in
recognition. ,,
“Yes, sir—only It was J.* B., Mr.
Mansfield.”
“Oh, all right,” the actor replied
with mock resignation; “It’s getting
so I can't do anything on the quiet
any more.”
“That’s because of your greaft
popularity, sir; every one knows
you. Going north for a personal
appearance?*’
Mansfield's buoyant mood over
balanced his customary reticence.
“Well, I'll tell you,” he confided,
taking his ticket and change; “It’s
sort of a private one. I’m going to
be married.”
Immediately he knew regret.
The eyes of the ticket clerk
widened with surprise and an al
most avaricious delight.
Turning hastily away to avoid
further talk, Mark strode toward
the waiting plane. As he did so, the
other man grabbed up a telephone
and spoke excitedly Into Its mouth
piece :
“Give me the Examiner—city
news room. . . .’*
At twenty past ten that evening,
Anita French parked her roadster
on Seventh street near Broadway
in downtown Los Angeles and hur
rled toward a marquee on whtch
lighted letters spelled: Hotel Ad
miral.
Her thoughts were of the man
she was to meet and of a suitable
apology for her tardiness. Still.
Mark would understand; he knew
how hard It was to slip away from
Father.
She entered the hotel’s tapestry
hung lounge room.
Along Its walls and around read
ing tables stood numerous easy
chairs.
Anita paused just Inside to scan
the place, and a small frown puck
ered her brow.
Only two figures, both women,
were risible.
She stood for an Instant lrreso
late, then walked toward the near
er of them.
“Pardon me," she said, “did you
happen to aee a young man with au
burn hair and a mustache come In
recently?”
"No,” the woman Answered, “I
haven't noticed anyone of that de
scription during the hour I’ve been
here.”
Anita thanked her and crossed
slowly to a chair on the opposite
side.
Slight misgivings arose, but she
told herself there must be some per
fectly simple explanation.
She had posted that note to him
Sunday evening. It would Just be
a matter of minutes.
An early edition of the morning
paper lay with magazines on the
table beside her.
Idly she glanced at Its headlines
—and something weighty seemed ~
suddenly to bear down on her.
There across the paper’s top huge
black type screamed: “MARK
MANSFIELD IN SECRET DASH
TO MARRIAGE.”
With fingers that trembled uncon
trollably, Anita picked It up and
read Into the story:
“Boarding a Pacific Airways
plane at seven-fifteen last night,
Mark Mansfield, noted screen star,
took off for San Francisco with the
words, ’I’m going north to get mar
ried.’
"The move was a complete sur
prise, as Mansfield had lately been
seen much In the company of Miss
Anita French, daughter of a promi
nent local family. Although Miss
French could not be located for a
statement, she was known to be
In the city. . . .”
Very carefully Anita laid down
the sheet.
She couldn't read any further, for
It had all grown quite blurred.
Somehow, though, a dazed numb
ness kept her from feeling anything
like pain.
She stood up and started with un
hasty steps toward the street
door. ...
• * • • • • •
Mark Mansfield gave his watch
another scrutiny.
The hands showed twenty past
eleven.
His eyes raised ngaln for reas
surance to the sign across the
lounge room which rend:
HOTEL ADMIRAL
SAN FRANCISCO
One of the Admiral Chain
Certainly queer, he thought, that
there should be this long a delay.
Perhaps—the Idea made him dis
tinctly uneasy—perhaps that mar
tinet of a father had trailed her
"here.
Impatiently Mark shifted In his
chair; entertaining that sort of no
tion was sheer morbidity.
No matter how long It took, he’d
wait right here till she came or
sent word to him.
One or the other was bound to
happen soon.
He picked up from his lap ones
more a copy of one of the San Fran
cisco papers. For nearly an hour
he'd been rending It; yet possibly
some unnoticed items remained.
Anything for a little diversion, and
no other source seemed at hand.
Four pages he turned fruitlessly;
then a heading mildly attracted his
curtosity. It read: “Unusual Error
Ite-Itoutes Mali.’’
His eye traveled on: “In one or
The few recorded occurrences of Its
kind, according to postal authori
ties, a sack of first-class mall was
accidentally brought here yester
day direct from collection boxes In
Los Angeles. On discovering the
mishap, local officials ordered the
letters sent out from San Francisco
post office. It was said. . .
Apathetically Mark Mansfield
flipped over the page. Such Incon
sequential stuff to fill a newspaper’s
columns with. . . . Where, oh where,
his brain doggedly demanded, was
Anita?
Honeybee* Never Yet
Domesticated by Man
The honeybee la often spoken of
as domesticated, but this Is far from
true. Although men and bees have
been closely associated since the
dawn of history, the honeybee Is ap
parently as wild today as It was
centuries ago.
Other wild animals have yielded'
to man's Influence and many of them
are now as dependent on man as
man Is upon them; but the bees In
apiaries are as wild as are their
cousins In dense forests.
Bees taken from a bee tree and
placed In a modern hive are as
much at home there as though they
were descended from generations of
hive-raised bees. On the other hand,
a swarm that has left a modern
apiary and settled In a hollow tree
fares as well In Its new environ
ment as did any of Its ancestors
In cave or forest Bees are no more
domesticated than are the bats that
are numerous In the bam or attic.
Bee specialists of the United
States Department of Agriculture
explain this unchanging trait In
bees by stating that the queen and
the drone that mates with her—
the only bees having the power of
reproduction—have no contact with
the outside world and therefore
hare no new experiences to pass
along to their offspring. The worker
bees, who are constantly subject to
new conditions, have no offspring
and no opportunity to pass on to fu
ture generations the benefits of their
experiences.