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FEB 15, 1033.
BEGIN Hi m "toilAT Bunt A 3H AYNF. rlanrer. refusr. to rnarrv DICK PTANLFY. son of weslUlv nifn:’, who i.‘ sii Now Voric trying to learn to write plays. Shelia's idea of marriage Is a cwj little home far from Broadway Although she has spent most of her life on tne at age. she would r,e glad to leave the theater. On a road show tour she mee'a .TERRY WYMAN. Jerry is attentive and She lia fnl.fi |r. 10-. e wth him. Bne things he Is a hard working young man with little money e.d does no know his father <w: f the fat.'ory whete Jerry works, fi' on his affection seems to cool and he ~?'• infrequently. Sheila id .! - to New York and a few months /.ins another road com pany, this tio.e as the featured princi pal. They play in Jerry s home, town, but -he . re. him only once After that she has no word from him tn.ul the tow ends and the company returns to New York There she learns from her friend, JAT’PY, a chorus girl, that Jerry lias married a girl in his home town. Blielia s too unhappy to look .or another job until i.e: money ; almost fone Then i.e is hired as a dancer n a night club After two weeks -hr is out of work ayr.::. TRF VOR I ANI tend her to see HENUr fashionable rte .gner. In the ho IK that h.' ran g< t a lob a a model. NOW GO ON BITII THf STORY CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT SHEILA found Henri in one of his most tempestuous moods. Nnthim? suited the designer that morning. Business was very bad. Tlie models not one of them pleased him. Their frocks did not look right. There were bilLs to be paid and other bills those owed to Henri— long overdue. An order of silk had not been delivered. Those models! Henri was shout ing that every one of them were fired, just as Sheila arrived on the veenr. The girls all of them at tractive and smart looking- accept ed this announcement with marked unconcern. Not one of them, standing about like so many lovely goddesses, gave as much as a sign that they had heard their employer. It was an old story. Business was not really bad, nno they knew it. Henri lost his temper, discharged every one and immediately forgot about it every few months. It meant noihing at all. But it was not an old story to Sheila and she stood frightened and uncertain what to do until the lit tle Frenchman, pudgy and red in the face from screaming, suddenly wheeled and faced her. ‘‘Mr. Lane sent me,” she said timidly. "Mr. Lane sent you?” Henri shouted, flapping his arms like a frantic hen. “Mr. Lane says I should take you on? And how do I pay your salary? How do I teach you to walk, to stand? How do I know you can wear my gowns? How do I know "'at?” Sheila couldn’t answer. She stood still under the force of the tirade. It was a shock until she saw one of the mannequins, a girl clad in a pale yellow chiffon evening gown, gazing at her. Their eyes met and the other girl, turning so that the irate man could not see, winked encouragingly. “You girls get into the dressing room,” Henri ordered. Then he turned a suddenly becalmed counte nance to Sheila. “If Mr. Lane says you will do, I suppose you will. I need a model,” lie grumbled. “Go into the dressing room and get ready. I'll see w'hat you look like.” He raised his voice sharply, “Gordon, put number 17 on this girl. Hurry!” nan (t ORDON was a plump, black -3 garbed woman whom Sheila was to know later as a real friend. It was her duty to see that the models appeared in the lovely, costly creations of Henri designed at ex actly the moment they were wanted, ht>r duty to see that the gowns were always in perfect order, hung away after a wearing. She kept the girls quiet, concealed their squabbles, found w'ays to ex cuse a tardiness or a broken rule with calm diplomacy that would have won the admiration of Henri himself if he had known about it. Occasionally Gordon had designed gowns which took the most exacting customers by storm. The older woman nodded curtly to Sheila and led the way to the dressing room. It was bare, indeed, BY iRUCfc CATTON C'iEORGE A. BIRMINGHAM has f become recognized, in the last few years, as a talented writer of; pleasant and gentle farce-come dies. His newest, book. “Elizabeth and, the Archdeacon," is an ingratiating novel which never will cause you to laugh out loud, but which ought to furnish you with a considerable number of quiet chuckles. It has to do chiefly with a Church of England missionary, who is on his way back to Britain after '‘twenty years of trying service in a cannibal-infested jungle somewhere in the far east. He has been made an archdeacon, in recognition of his services, and when he reaches England he is to be given a lucrative country church; but on his way home he falls into adventures. Stopping at a Mediterranean re sort. for a few weeks of rest, the mild little archdeacon meets a Lon don woman who, when she is at home, runs a tony dress shop. She has bought, dirt cheap, a number of exotic Parisian pajamas which she means to take home and soil; and when she and the arch deacon chance to return on the same boat she quietly slips them into his suitcase—which, she is con fident. the customs men won't open —so that she won't have to pay Import duties on them. Well, the customs men do open his suitcase, the dress shop lady disappears, the archdeacon gets into a jam for trying to smuggle gay pajamas into England, and every body has lots of wholesome fun. It's all very mild, but it really mak* * rather pleasant reading. Published by Bobbs-Mcrrill, the book retails at $2. IN CELLOPh'aNE compared with the outer salon, which was rich with smart modern istic furniture, thick carpets, price less oriental rugs and smaller deco rations representing a fortune. The girls, divesting thrtnselves of their finery, stood about in deli cate underthings, chatting coolly. To watch trem no one would have dreamed that they had been the objects of Henri’s wrath so recently. Two of them, swinging themselves to a table, were lighting cigarets. The girl in pale yellow stepped out of the frock and tossed it over the back of a chair, then stood before the mirror regarding the line of her gold hair with a speculative frown. Another was reddening her lips pensively. The fifth sat on a low bench and stared casually, then smiled in welcome at Sheila. The girl with the red hair was hardly more than 18. “Did the old man scare you to death?” she asked. “Never you mind the old man," Gordon interrupted with vigor. “It’s time you girls were getting into those tailleurs. Now r don't keep me waiting!” n n n THERE were murmured protests, but with one accord the man nequins began getting into the costumes. “It's a wonder you couldn’t stand on a sheet, Flo." Gordon con tinued. Bustling about, handing out this and that frock, Gordon finally came to Sheila. Her practiced eye ran up and down the graceful figure, indicating more approval than her lips ever would voice. The frock Sheila was wearing did not, however, seem to please her. “Take it off,” she said shortly and Sheila glad she had worn he r best combination. “What's she going to wear, Gor don?” asked one of the girls. “A bathing suit?” There was a sudden sally of laughter at this, instantly quelled by Gordon in a shaip command. Evidently the bathing suit joke was well known. Sheila decided that she would ask about it later. “Number 17, Rosie!” Gordon called. ‘ Turn around now, child.* This last was to Sheila. “You wear your hair well.” Rosie, an undersized little crea ture with a tape measure around her neck and a huge square cushion of pins attached at her waist, came forward bearing a froth of green and orchid chiffon. “Stand here,” Gordon indicated a raised platform and Sheila obeyed. The woman slipped the green and orchild confection over Sheila’s head and drew it carefully down over the slender figure. The folds billowed dow-n to the sheet wth which the platform was swathed. Mirrors told Sheila that the dress was beautiful. It fitted her exquisitely and the colors became her. “Let’s see you step down from there,” ordered Gordon, when not a wrinkle remained to mar the per fection of the frock. Fearfully Sheila obeyed. “It can’t be worse than the stage,” she thought in panic. After all. if she should fail Harrel would surely find a job for her somewhere. She swayed across the room, not with the stilted manner of a profes sional mannequin, but with natural grace. “You’re hired right now!” murmured the girl named Thelma, looking up from fastening a belt about her smart black and -white walking suit. n n n A moment later Sheila stood be fore Henri. She moved across the room to the mirror, turned and walked back again. Henri nodded. “You’ll do,” he said. “The salary is SSO a week. Gordon, have her put on Number 12 and let me see her.” The other girls listening showed their surprise. Fifty dollars for a beginner! It meant that instead of displaying gowns, appearing and disappearing as different costumes were requested, Sheila would min gle with the customers. She would appear to be another shopper, sipping tea if it was served, sitting, standing and talking to the women and girls who had come to buy Henri’s gowns. Wearing the designer's most handsome creations, she would be a model incognito. Customers would think her an other patron, like themselves, and hurry to inquire secretly of Henri what was the price’ 'of her Wrap or frock, whether it could be dupli cated. The prospect alarmed Sheila. It was welcome news, indeed, that she was to earn SSO a week, but when Gordon explained what would be expected of her she doubted her ability. “Just be yourself,” Gordon told her. - Slip into this gown and hat and walk around or sit just as the others do. Now- and then pretend to inquire about a purchase.” “But I don't know anything about modeling!” the girl protested. “Neither do our clients. They’ll think you are one of themselves.” In another five minutes Sheila was dressed and ready. "You'll be nil right. It's easy,” the red-haired girl reassured her. Sheila stepped again into the soft glow of the outer salon. She hesi tated. then moved o.i. As she did so. her eyes fell on a familiar figure directly across the room. (To Be Continued) CREDENTIALS ISSUED Old Trails Unemployed Council Will Protect Donors to Council. Collectors for the Old Trails Unemployed Council in the future will carry credentials signed by three officials of the council, it has been announced. No donations should be given to collectors unable to display the proper identification. The an nouncement was made after a truck load of food and ciothing was col lected, in the name of the council, by two men having no connection with the organization. OUR HOARDING HOUSE r„. ... p WOW CAN YOU STAND AY WILLPOWER, TTfjlr <3ET OUT / WATCHING US PACK AWAY M YvV "BOY pf EVERY NI6VAT, V TH' GROCERIES, WHILE WILLPOWER/ AT TWELVE, \ <i. YOU'VE HAD NOTHING If A ’ ND TVA& h S prasT tTO EAT FOR Av WEEK, J 1 STRONG If ON YOUR WIG, RUT fAII K? / \ CHARACTER OP FRCtvs RAIDING \ I'D RE SO HUNGRY ( | A WOOPL£/ e ( TH lC£ BOX / /" ( I COULD EAT TH’ . I TEMPTATION, NVLAD, LEATHER SACK EFFECTS ME ] Mi PSe JUST STOWED \\ X / j 1 l=EE= 11 AWAY A MEAL THAT eco us MT.ofT. / 1 I ~~ I JASON HUSHED IN " L e 1933 BY MCA MRVKX INC. ( vlll J FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS lE? HE DRUMMING SOUND REACHES THE. EARS O' - THE. SERI WHO N f 1 I SEE ) J YEP—THEY’RE COMIM’rN C WHY/ AIN'T THAT THE. YES -IT’S ) l 6ALELN MENDOZA /7\ TRAPPED UNCLE HARRY AND BILLY BOWI “.63 AND HE- W E-S-R. THEM COMING KEEP BEATIN’ AWAY, KID WHO WAS TALKIN’ / FRECKLES ] i WHERE DID YOU *> TURNS TOWARD THE SERI VILLAGE, NEAG IKE BEACH VILLAGE, BACK. DAD ’ / • ” i 1 PETE MENDOZA, Y // / //>, PEDRO? •• J [ ',—^ || ) BLAST ME HIDE IF ) XtK )J, "■' V Y f T V, THAT DOESNT SOUND S TUNA * —l *X- 77 WASHINGTON TUBBS II f OCR. TREASURY ISS EMPT/.X ALAS 1 . PER \ OW, MOfc TO DE” V WHO MILL \ f DER OFFiCiALS iss mitoot 'MERCHANTS farmers*. IF C£R UtW OUR / V SALARIES. PER PRINZ. J / MERCHAHTS tSSRUHNED,/ X Ycan't pay mss . J vmho vmll buy our ono \ , ' SALESMAN SAM ser ujWos Were! jsip! ano Tofwou), Oom't Tell that Sou ") ovi .Sou said vtT'i C AMD FOU&HT om EVER'/ darked ) Y /i///y W MR.SCRAPP, BACK FROfA j SAtAIsEWOTMS UsT OF AMD TVt (AKFE. DIDN'T VISIT ) BoV 1 UIF. DID— v OME_ OF ' ELbA \ t* V V GROCERIES OV/ER TOTH' TH’ 0 ATTCEFfELDS OF FRAWCEL- 1 V V- // ' BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES THFRF .YMtKDSOMt —\_OOVTT , VAiVWYS. 1 50 TWPXS Tw' 90TPTQ MKVTE SOWS S*VfOVJ\CVTS> NCOTFEt Wj&M 'SOOTS Y\F\S B'E.tlV - - - j |gj||| | ovayo , BNgf J y TARZAN THE .UNTAMED 3btcivtd rr Vwrm Ffcirw Snwon. Iwcotr In the foothills of India's barrier mountains, Pat thoroughly enjoyed the quick-passing days. Ledy Cecil s hospitality was a joy to the mother less girl. There was hunting of the lesser native atumals and nights of entrancing beauty. THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES Roger Cecil was Pat's constant companion as the two became the best of pals. At his university, the young Oxford undergraduate had once be friended his classmate, a certain rajah's son, by defe: iing him from the Insults of a husky student. —By Ahern OUT OUR WAY 7 V t / ALWAYS \ AUCt. INI WONOtPLANIO, 1 / WANTIN' TO OUT/ j "VKiE MILL CN TvA£_ FvjO^S, w'-w’-tb-vA ( S>Tay in I Pilgrims Progress \ CeT / \ PeaO 1 / Pv-oTaqcva Uues *.^ „ bec. u. 8. p*t.orr. BORN WFAPSTQO SOON © 1833 by Nt acwvice. iwc. g-/S f ALAS, ALAS* \ MIMMEL 1 . IF DEY ISS 7/15S \ PdWM f 00V<N MIT I>eß merchants \ der cobblers unp car- j OF- / m(T V LFRYTIHG'./ UND FARMERS PENTERS UNO LANDLORDS \ >RlN7*y | /V' .77 UND FISHERMEN / UN9 EFRSBODY ISS RUINED. ?RlN2'. 77' lets ISS ALL RUINED. / PER ENTIRE COUNTRY ISS ? ' ( pto CASUt 1 .—, — ' IL. 1933 BY NES SERVICE, INC REG. U. S. PT. OFF. G\OtONi ,tv\ ? i dok>t s’E'ems tVt vot. SttVi ovjv \ T>\' ViMAF. —'2>OT TV\PT tAt>o VSS ST2 \ \ KKOUi \ OF V\\SK* \-OOViS AAiFCY. FMAYUKR I NjOVO VKPsVjT. ■ — WAtAM ( I <L WD6.U.S. PAT.Ofr.CtW3 BY H£A SOtVKg. IWC. j In return the Prince invited Roger to visit his father s palace that summer. As the sultry season waned and Caroline Cecil prepared to take her young people back to the British post, there came a crested note rene ng the invitation from the rajah's son. / —By Edgar Rice Burroughs The Prince urged that they come at once, for a Hindoo festival was to be held. Lady Cecil, de siring to see her friend, the governor-general’s wife, decided that she and Pat would accompany Roger as fai as Delhi. So the Fates hurried Pa tricia toward unhappiness. PAGE 13 —By Williams Rv Blosser —By Crane —By Small —By Martin