The Detroit times. [volume], November 26, 1913, AFTERNOON EDITION, Page Page Four, Image 4

About The Detroit times. [volume] (Detroit, Mich.) 1903-1920

Image provided by: Central Michigan University, Clark Historical Library

                
Page Four
“The Valiants of Virginia”
A itery of Rare Romance—
Lively la Action and Rich in
Character and Sentiment
CHAPTER XL.
(Continued.)
"Khali 1 let! you wneu it began
With me.’ Not last n^ghi —nor the
day we planted the ramblers. (Do
jruu know, when your little muduy
boot went trampling /a*vn the earth
about their roots, 1 wanted to stoop
dowu and kls* it” So dear every -
thing about you wap!* Not |hat. even
ing at Rosewood, with the arbor iru
grance about us. (I think 1 shall al
ways picture you with roses all about
you. Red roses the color of your
Upa!) No, it was not then that it
hetfitn —nor that dreadful hour when
you fought with me to save in.v Me—-j
aor the morning you *>at your horse
in the box-rows in that yew-green
habit that made your hair look like
molten copper. No, it began the first
afternoon, when l sat in my motor
with your rose in my hand! it has
never left me aiuce, by day or by
aight And yet there are people in ;
title age of airships and honking high*
ways typewriters who thiuk love
Bt'flret'Slght is as out-of-date as our
little grandmothers’ hoops rusting in
the garret. Ah, sweetheart. 1. for one.
know better!
*Bnppose I had not come to Vir-’
ginla— and known you! My heart
lamps when I think of it. It makes
one •believe in fate. Here at the Court
I found an old leaf-calendar— lt sit*
at my elbow now , just as I came on j
ft, The date it shows is May 14th.
and lta motto Is: Bvery man carries
Ida IMe upon a riband about bis neck, i
I like that.
"That first Sunday at St. Andrew s.
1 thought of a day — may it be soon!
—when yon and I might stand before
that altar, with your people (my peo
pie, too, now) around us. and 1 shall
hear you say: 1. Shirley, take thee.
John— ’ And to think it is really to
oome true! Do you remember the
teat the minister preached from? It
wu: ’But all men perceive that they
liava riches, and that tbelr faces
shine as the fames of angels.' I think
f Shall go about henceforth with my
fisoe shining, so that all men w ill see
that I have riches — your love for ine,
”1 am so happy I can hardly see the j
worda — or perhaps It is that the sun j
has set 1 am sending this over by
Uncle Jefferson. Send me back Just
a word by him, sweetheart, to say
fiat I may come to you tonight. And
KjM Iks three short words 1 am so
thirsty to bear over and over — one
■wrb between two pronouns—so that
I can kiss them all at once!”
He raised his head, a little flushed
tad with eyes brilliant, lighted a can
lie, denied the letter with the ring
i« wore and despatched it
Thereafter he sat looking into tbej
[lowing dusk, watching the pale
amps of the constellations deepen to
teen gilt against the lapis-lazuli of
he sky. and listening to the Insect
loiaes dulling Into the woven chorus
if evening. Uncle JefTereon was long
a returning, and he grew impatient
Rally and began to prowl through
i« rusty corridors like a leopard,
than to the front porch and finally
a the driveway, listening at every
turn for the familiar slourning step.
When at length the old Negro ap
**red. Valtant took the note he
trough*, his heart beating rapidly, and :
tarried it hastily in to the candle
ight. He did not Open It at once, but
lit for a full minute pressing it be
ween his palms as though to extract
Horn the delicate paper The beloved
krill of lier touch. His hand shook
ittgktiy as he drew the folded leaves
root the envelope. How would it be
ta? "My Knight of the Crimson
law?” or "Dear Gardener?” <She
tad called him Gardener the day they
lad act out the roaes) or perhaps
irea "Sweetheart?' It would not be
Mtflk only a mere "Yes.” or “Come to
Mr perhaps; yet even the shortest
ptisive had its beginning and Its ona
i He opened and reed.
[ sitar an lnatnat he stared unbeilev-
My. Then the paper crackled to a
MU la kla clutched hand, and he
Made a koarae sound which was halt
erp, then sat perfectly still, his
Whols tace shuddering. What be
poet of Sierras to Live In
i Marble Chisled by Girl Ward
IMF*
VME *** / -
iV t^ r - F^^Hl
<f { '* ’;.■ F7
* ;■ ■ £ :
r 1\ fcL,
IA \ i
* rix V p V ■•;. - . \ ,1 vi
I _J
l i' i
L- .***—** ***** *•""•• "ot.d aeulptrcM. putting the finishing touches
F* M* ft J*M«Mn Miller, famed Poet of the Sierras 8
PfftylpM*’M> eifbt years to perpet-
MK» Ml vtafl* in atop*-! rimt s w hat
MifelMll Kmbo did Her auo
|PMmOp»iMB Miller. Poet of ihe
mmmm*, • noted »ciiJptre*f the
Ww JIMt jtiktiOlM Japanese artist.
■MMRMjr Ae ward of the famous
Copyright,
ilia
The Hobbs-Merrill Cos.
j crushed iu his hand was no note ot
I tender love-phrases; it was an abrupt
dismissal Tin- Maggerlßff contre
temps struck the color from his face
and left every nerve raw and quiver
-1 ing To be "nothing to her. as she
i could bo nothing to him*" He felt a
j ghastly inclination to laugh. Nothing
Ito her* The meaning of the lines
jwa* monstrous lr was inconceivable
Presently, his brows frowning heuv
My. lie spread out the crumpled paper
and reread ii with bitur slowness
weighing each phrase, "Something
' which >he had 1* anted since she last
saw hint, which !h> between them.'
" »*>he hail not Rllctw II It; then. —las*
night, when they had kissed beside
the sun dial! She had loved him then!
, What could there be that thrust them
• irrevocably apart?
i He sprang up and paced the llooj
in a blinding passion of resentmeut and
: revolt. "You shall’ you shall!” u»«
said between his set teeth. "We b«
’ong to each oHier! There ran bo
nothing, nothing to separate us;’
he pored over the page, "Sh-' 1
could not see him again, could uo»
even explain ” The words seemed
, to echo thonipelves. bleak as hail on
a prison pane. "If he went to St
Andrews', he might find the reaso;
why.” What could she mean by th*
reference to St. Andrew’s ? He
j caught at that as a clue. Gould th>*
i old church tell him w-hat had reared
: itself In such dismal fashion between
them?
Without stopping to think of the
darkness or that the friendly doors
lof the edifice would be closed,
caught up his hat and went swift y
j down the drive to the road,
which he plunged breathlessly. Thi
blue star sprinkled sky was nov.
streaked with clouds like faded or ,
[ chids, and the shadow s on the uneven
ground under his hurried feet made
him giddy. Through the dm aud
hurly-burly of his thoughts he was;
i conscious of dimly-moving shaper
i across fences, the sweet breath o<
cows, and a Negro pedestrian whe {
greeted him In passing. He was
I stricken suddenly with the thought ■
I that Shirley was suffering, too. 1* l
1 seemed incredible that he should now
he raging along a country road at
nightfall to And something that ao
horribly hurt them both.
It was almost dark—save for the
starlight—when he saw the shadow
of the square ivy-grown spire rearing
stark front its huddle of foliage
against the blurred background. Ft
pushed open the gate and went slowly
up the worn path toward the great
Iron-bound and hooded door. Under
the larches on either hand the out
lines of the gravestones loomed pal
lidly, and from the bell-tower came
i the faint inquiring cry of a small owl.
Valiant stood still, looking about him.
What could he learn here? lie read
»o answer to the riddle. A little to
J one side of the path something showed
; enow-like on the ground, and he went
’ toward it. Nearer, he saw that It
, was a mass of flowers, staring up
: whitely from the semi-obscurity from
within an Iron railing. He bent over,
suddenly noting the scent; it was
cape jessamine.
With a curious sensation of almost
prescience plucking at him. he took a
box of vestas from his pocket and
struck one. It flared up. Illuminating
a flat granite slab in which was cut
a name and inscription:
EDWARD SASSOON
“Forgive us our trespasses.”
The silence seemed to crash to
earth like a great looking-glass and
shiver into a million pieces. The wax
dropped from his fingers and in the
supervening darkness a numb frigh’
gripped him by the throat. Shirley
had laid these there, on the grave oi
the man his father had killed—the
cape jessamines she had wanted that
day. for her mother! He understood.!
It esme to him at last that there i
was a chill mist groping among the'
trees and that he was very cold..
He went back along the Red Road '
stumbllngly. Was this to be the end
of the dream, which he had fancied !
would last forever? Could it be that
she was not for him? Was It no
hoary He that the since of the fathers
herd. Her crowning ambition has
been to do a bust of the poet that
would help to Immortalize his name
The work Is now complete ana
stands as a tribute of her love for
!he great man. The buat is what Is
known as Ihe heroic size-—greater
than life itaelf. Mrs. Kanna refused
to work from a death mask.
Hattie Erminie Rives
were visited upon the third aud fourth
generation?
When he re-entered the library the
candle was guttering in the burned
wings of a night-moth. The place
looked all at oure gaunt aud desolate
and dot-polled What could Virginia,
what could Damory t’ourt. be to him
without her? The wrinkled note I‘iy
on the desk and he bent suddenly
with a sharp catching breath and
kissed It. There welled over him a
wave of rebellious longing. The can
dh* spread to a hazy yellow blur. The
walls fell away. He stood under the
moonlight, with his arms about her
Upa on hers and his heart beating
to the sound of the violins behind
them.
He laughed—a harsh wild langi
that rang through the gloomy town
Then he threw himself on the cou:n
and hurled his face In his hands. H >
was still lying there when ti e u.is y
rain-wet dawn came through the shut
ters.
CHAPTER XLI.
Tne Coming of Greet King.
It was Sunday afternoon, and unde:
the hemlocks. Rickey Snyder ha I
gathered her minions—a dozen chll
dren from the nearby houses with
tne usual sprinkling of little black
from the kitchens There wer
parents, of course, to whom thl“
mingling of colo r and degree was a
matter of conventional prohibition
but since the advent of Rickey, ii«
whose soul lay a Napoleonic instinct
of leadership, this was more honoreu
I in the breach than in the observance
"My! Ain’t it scrumptious here
now!” said Cozy Cabell, hanging y »l
low lady-slippers over her ears. "1
wash we could play here always ”
"Mr Valiant will let us.” said
Rickey. “I asked him."
“Oh. he will.’* responded Coxy
gloomily, "but he’ll probably go and
marry somebody who’ll be mean about
it.”
"Everybody doesn't get married."
said one of the Byloe twins, with mas
culine assurance. "Maybe he won't "
"Much a boy knows about it!” re
torted Cozy scornfully. “Women have
to, and someone of them will make
him. (Greenville Female Seminary
Simms, if you slap that little nlggci
again. Ml slap you!)”
Greenle rolled over on the grass
and tittered. "Miss Mattie Sue
didn't,” she said. "Ah heah huh say
de yuddah day et wus er moughty
good feelln* ter go ter bald Mlstls aa
git up Marstah?'*
"Well,” said Cozy, tossing her head
till the flower earrings danced. ’Tm
going to get married if the man hasn’t
got anything but a character and a
red mustache. Married women don t
have to prove they could have got a
husband if they had wanted to.”
“Let’s play something.” proposed
Rosebud Meredith, on whom the die
cusalon palled "Let’s play King
King Katlko.”
"It’s Sunday!"—this from her
smaller and more righteous sister.
"We’re forbidden to play anything
but Bible games on Bunday, and if
Rosebud does. I'll te’L”
"Jaybird tattle-tale!” sang Rose
bud derisively. "Don’t care If you
do!”
"Well.” decreed Rickey. "Well
play Sunday-school then. It would
take a saint to object to that I’m
superintendent and this stump’s my
desk. All you children sit down un
der that tree.”
They ranged themselves 1n two
rows, the white children, in clean
Sabbath pinafores and go-to-meeting
knickerbockers, in front and the col
ored onee, in ginghams and cotton
prints. in the rear—the habitual ex
pression of a differing social station.
"Oh!” shrieked Miss Cabell, “and 111
be Mrs. Merrywea’her Mason and
teach the infants* class.”
"There isn’t any infant class,” said
Riokey. "How could here be when
there aren’t any infants? The les
son is over and I’ve Just rung the
bell for silence. Children, this is
Missionary Sunday, and I’m glad to
see so many happy faces here today.
Coxy,” she said relenting, "you can
be the organist if you want to.”
"I won't," said Coxy sullenly. "If
I can’t be tablecloth I won’t be dish
raff.’’
"AH riffht, you needn’t," retorted
Rickey freeslngly. "Sit up, Greenle.
People don’t lie on their backs in
Sunday-school.”
Greenle yawned dismally, and right*
ed herself with Injured slowness. "Ah
diffuses ter ’cep yo’ insult, Rickey
Snydah," she said. "Ah’d rut hah lose
inah ’ltglon dan mah laz-nes*. En Ah
'apises yo’ splssable dissleltion!”
"Let us all rise,” continued Rickey,
unmoved, "and sing Kingdom Com
ing” And she struck up luetliy,
beating time on the stump with a
stick:
‘ From all the dark places of earths
heathen races,
O, see how the thick shadows flee’"
and the rows of children Joined In
with unction, the colored contingent
j coming out 9trong on the chorus;
j * He v* rs shall be full ob ds wunduhful
story
As w-atahs dat tovah de sea!"
The clear voices in the quiet air
startled the fluttering birds and sent
a squirrel to the tip-top of an oak,
trom which he looked down, flirting
his brush. They roused a man, too,
who had laid in a sodden sleep under
a bush at a little distance. He was
ragged aud soiled aud his heavy, bru
tal face, covered with a dark stubble
of some days’ grow-tb, had an ugly
scar slanting from cheek to hair.
Without getting up. he rolled over
to get a better view, and *et hi*
eyes, blinking from their slumber, on
the children.
We will now take up the collec
tion." said Rickey. ("You can do It,
•lune. C*e a flat-piece of bark.i Re
member that what we give today is
for the poor heathen in—in Alabama."
That s no heathen place,” object
ed Cozy with spirit’. "My cousin live*
in Alabama.”
Well, then. 1 ' acquiesced Rickey,
‘.‘anywhere you like Hut I reckon
your cousin wouldn’t he above taking
the money. Kor the poor heathen
who have never heard of (lod. or Vlr
idnla. or anything Think Os them
ami give cheerfully."
The bark slab made it* rounds, re
ceiving leaves, acorns, .ind an occa
sional pin Midway, ifowever, there
arose a shrill shrink from the bearer
THK I) £ll< 01 T TIMES, V ' NESI> AV . NOVEMBER 26 . 1915.
v
; :X •• xfyH?
l- ~<
r tig-. 1 , X
and the collection was scattered
broadcast "Rosebud Meredith,' said
Rickey withering!). "It would serve
you right for putting that toad in tne
plate if vour hand would get all over
warts' I'm sure 1 hope it will.” »he
rescued the fallen piece of bark ami
announced: "The collection this af
ternoon haa amounted to a hundred
dollars and seven cents. And now,
children,, we will skip the catechism
and I will tell you a story.”
Her auditors hunched themselves
nearer, a double row of attentive
white and black faces, as Rickey with
a preliminary bass cough, began in a
drawling tone whose mimicry called
forth giggles of ecstasy.
“There was once two sisters, who |
went to Sunday-school and loved their :
teacher ve-e-ery much. They were al- i
way» good and attentive —not like ;
that little nigger over there! The ,
one with his thumb in his mouth!
One was little Mary and the other
was little Susy. They had a mighty
rich uncle who lived in Richmond, and
once he came to see them and gave
them each a dollar. And they were
ve-e-ery glad. It wasn't a mean old
paper dollar, all dirt and creases;
nor a battered whltey silver dollar;
but it was a bright round gold dol
lar. right oat of the mint. Little Mary
and little Suay could hardly sleep
that night for thinking of what they
could buy with those gold dollars.
"Early next morning, they went
down-town, hand in hand, to the
•tore, and Uttle Susy bought a bag
of goober-peas, and sticks and sticks
of striped candy, and a limber jack,
and a gold ring, and a wax doll with
a silk dress on that could open and
shut Its eyes—”
"Huh!” said the captious Cozy.
"You can’t buy a wax doll for a dol
lar. My littleat. littlest one cost
three, and she didn’t have a stitch
to her back!”
"Shut up!” said Rickey briefly.
"Dolla were cheaper then.” She look
ed at the row of little Negroes, gog
gle-eyed at the vision of such large
ness. "What do you think little
Mary did with her gold dollar? She
loved dolla and candy, too, but she
had beard about the poo-00-r heather.
There was a tear in her eye, but she
took the dollar home, and next day
when she went to Sunday-school, she
dropped it in the missionary-box.
"Little children, what do you reck n
became of that dollar? It bought a
big satchetful of tracts for a mission
ary. He had been a poor man with
si* children and a wife with a bone
felon on her right hand —not a -child
old enough to wash dishes and all of
them young enough to fall in the fire
—so he had' to go and bes mission
ary. He was going to Alabam —to a
cannibal’ taland, and he took the
tracts and sailed away in a ship that
landed him on the shore. And when
the heathen cannibals saw him they
were ve-e-ery glad, for there hadn t
been any shipwrecked sailor* for a
long time, and they were ve-e-ery
hungry. So they tied up the mission
ary and gathered a lot of wood to
make a fire and cook him.
"But It had rained and rained and
rained for so long that the wood was
all wet, and it wouldn’t bum. and
they all cried because they were so
hungry. And then they happened to
find the satchelful of tracts, and the
tracts were ve-e-ery dry. They took
them and stuck them under the wet
wood, and the tracts burned and the
wood caught Are and they cooked the
missionary and ate him.
"Now, little children, which do you
think did the most good with her dol
ter—little Susy or little Mary ?”
The front row sniggered, and a
sigh came from the'* colored ranks.
"Dem ar* can'bals,” gasped a dusky
infant breathlessly, dey done eat
up all dat. candy on dem goober-peas,
too?”
The inquiry was drowned In a
shriek from several children In uni*
son. They scrambled to their feet,
casting fearful glances over their
shoulders The man who had been
lying behind the huah had risen ami
was coming toward them at a slouch
ing amble, one foot dragging slightly.
His appearance. Indeed, was enough
ta cause panic. With his savage face,
set now in a grin, and hia tramp-llke
costume, he looked fierce and animal*
like. White and black, the children
fled like startled rabbits, older ones
dragging younger, without a back
word look—gll save Rickey, who stood
quite still, her widening eye* fixed
on him In a kind of blanched fasci
nated tenor.
He cams close to her. never taking
hi* eyes from her. then put bla heavy
grimy hartHT under her chin and turn-
Absolutely New Dance Described By Originator
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Posed Especially for Thla Newspaper by Maurice and Mle# Walton. .
ed her twitching face upward, chuck
ling.
"Ain't afeard, damn me!” he san
with admiration. "Wouldn’t shedad
die w ith th’ fine folks’ w hite-liverec
young uns! Know who 1 am, don't
ye?”
’’Greef King. u Rickey’s lips ruthei
formed than spoke the name.
"Right An’ I know you, too. Got
Jes’ th’ same look e* when ye wuzn\
no hlgher’n my knee. So ye ain t
at th’ Dome no mo’, eh? Purple an'
fine llnnitig an' a edification. Ho ho!
Coin’ ter make ye another ladyess
like the sweet ducky-dovey that res
cooed ye from th’ lovin’ embrace o'
yer fond step-parlent, eh?”
Rickey’* small arm went suddenly
out and her fingers tore at his shirt
band. "Don’t you,” she burst in a
paroxysm of passion; "don't you
even speak her name! If you do, I'll
kill you!”
(Continued.)
SSOO PRIZE OFFERED BY
METROPOLITAN MAGAZINE
Metropolitan Magazine is offering
the thinking ir.on and women of
America a wonderful opportunity It
gives some person with sociological
convictions a chance to win fame in
Home Comfort.
SZZIZZIZIZZZZZSZZZZZIZZZZZZZZZZZZZZSZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ^ZZZZZZZZZZZIS
•
what the business man
thinks of when he goes home
at night. He wants to spend
the evening profitably—to him
self and his own. He tpants
time to improve his mind, to
engage in social affairs, to
get acquainted with his family.
&
He wants to “keep posted *' on
the news, too. But he does
not get a fair chance at the
other things unless he has a
newspaper which is not a
mass of vain and empty detail.
<T
The men who read The Detroit
I Times get the news in concise
- form. They read it, and they
smssssssEESa ' don’t waste time. And then
they play with the kids, and
Its the are sociable with their wives.
Real _
pZ- The Detroit Times
(Editor's Not*—After describing for
the Ir.lllHt .if lull.ill Tl Mrs the H%W
est Mud moat popular dancvs of u> .•
lemon. M. Mauri. *. the world'* gr4*t
r*t ballroom dan«-«r. has written today
r specially for tin Detroit Timas thla
article on how to dance hie new dance
the a. tractive dunce which ha OJid
Mina Walton huve Juat originated and
nre bos Inning to teach their society
pupil*.)
BY MAURICE..
(Copyrighted. I*l.l, by the* N'ewapapsr,
anterpi iae Aaaot lain it.)
This dance hasn't yet been aeen on
any stage. .Mias Walton and I have
only just originated it. and It is still
without u name. Hut it i* so fascinat
ing a step that we. who dance all day
1 fr un noon till nearly dawn, are always
ready and eager to try our “now
dance’ Juat onc» more! ]
It can he danced to any two-part
ragtime music. The swgying of the
body to the time of the itHisJe is tlie
fascinating part of the dance The
easiest way to get till* time Is to re-
I hi nicer that there 1* a rising and fall-
I lug of the shoulders corresponding to
the movement of the feet. When the
the world of letters with also a rich
mcritty prise as recompense for the
effort.
This W"0. p 1 u** 15 cents u word—
headliner'* rates with it vrngeanc. -
will be the reward for the best answer
to the Oeorae Bernard Shaw article
that appears In Jiecember Metropolt
tan.
The report of a speech i>*fore the
famous National Liberal Club of Lon
<Vn. It exploit some remarkable opln
lona on social equality These opinions
biistle with points that arouse Instant
difference of opinion If not antagonism
In the reader
You will want. «t once, to write a
drastic answer that will show up the
fallacies of the Hhawian theories.
Metropolitan wants its readers t >
act on this Impulse and send the re
sult to them, to be judged by a Jurv
composed of Andrew •’arnegle. Jack
London and James Keeley of the Chi
cago Tribune, all men more famous frr
their views on so< ial equality than any
other achievement.
With this well-balanced trio of
judges, every competitor may rest as
sured that the Judgment will be Im
partial. based on the sound sense and
genuine philosophy contained In the
letters submitted. The winning letter
will Hppear In the February numbef of
Metropolitan.
A number of lOnglish contemporaries
of Mr. Shaw have already endeavored
to answer him. hut doubtful with sue
cess. It Is because Metropolitan be
lieves that no adequate reply has been
made that It makes this prise offer,
which should result In extremely in
teresting and valuable discussion.
i«ft foot advances the left thoulder
rises, and the right shoulder itssi
with tihe right foot.
Some of the principal steps we &*▼«
taken from the tango, the maxlxe and
the c&ifa-walk.
The dance starts with aight plain
walking steps. In the position which
we have posed In Figure 1. Remem
ber that right from the start we keel
i time with that faeclnatlng shoukiei
j movement.
After these eight hart, we drop into
the old polka etep, with the modem
addition of two movements of the hll
to each step. The gentleman starts
to the left with 1 eft-rigbt-left. turning
at the same time so that when lu
.continues the step right-left-rtght -h*
1 advances lu the same direction. Tho**
familiar with the opera of “Carmen*
will recognize this as the so-called
“habanera dance*' of Spain.
Then we slide four times to the lefi
with the body beut in the direction o!
the movement, and then four times to
the right. This Is once repeated, fol
lowed by eight bars of the habanera
step.
Then the gentleman folds his arm*
across bis ( best, and the lady, folding
hers, rests them on his. in this po
sition they describe a large ctrcle in
plain two-step measure.
This is repeated, the couple sepaxat
ing and each dancing singly in a lon*
circle. Coming back to him with hei
folded arms again resting on his, tin
lady bends slowly her right knee, ex
tending the left leg backwards untl
St touches the ground. The gentleman
of course, kneels at the same time
but his left knee is bent and his rlghi
extended. They kneel thus In a serlet
of little jerky movements, one Jerk
to each beat of the music.
Then they two-step once again sepa
rately, turning back to tack and re
turning so as to face each other. Thf
gentleman Mops, and the lady dance*
half way around again, so that hei
back is to him. He takes her handi
as in Figure 2. and they make thre<
running steps, flrst to the right, end
ing in a long glide, as shown in Fig
ure 2. anil then to the left.
Then they go back to the stef
witlch I described as the “habanera'
and dance this for sixteen measures
The dance finishes with a regular old
fashioned cakewalk, the lady facini
in the same direction as the gentle
■man and turning on the last beat t<
dron in front of him in a gracefu
curtsy.
Hlcksy’a for Quality
Thanks!
r j In harmony
with the Thanks-
Aa giving spirit thal
P A prevails we wish tc
acknowledge our ap
preciation of the un
precedented benefit)
j bestowed upon us dur
*ng the past year, and
to express our heart
felt thanks to our friends, whe
have favored this store with the
largest patronage it has evei
known.
Hickeys
201*201 Woodward Avonua
•Damn m