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Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, June 13, 1929, Image 40

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Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045462/1929-06-13/ed-1/seq-40/

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Plain pr Fancy Stripes
EISEMAN'S, 7th & F |
■TTV andßumliisSoln
BDr. Scholl’s Zino
■ pads for Callouses |
1 end pain in one
I minute! They stop
Sy/t 1 the friction and
■ pressure of shoes
I and are soothing
fl and healing. Re-
moving cSllouses
with harsh liquids or plMters is unsafs
—often causing acid burn. Zino-pads
ars thin, protactiva. At all drug, shoa
and dept. stores —3sc box.
Put ana an—** pain is gaeal
On smart verandas of country clubs its sparkle
Gives Zest to Talk
A woman’s LAUGH falls gaily upon their “ ‘Dry,’ like a good sauterne,” one will • opened. And the resulting product is what
ears, and the company hears of a well- say. “Mellow,” adds another. “A ginger ale you and countless others know as a better,
played match. The talk turns to yachting which has distinction,” a third will say. finer, purer ginger ale. So pure is it that
and a youth tells of winning the King of True; for this fine old ginger ale is made not only do leading hospitals serve it, but
Spain’s cup. Fleet horses engage their in- with such expert care that naturally the also many physicians prescribe it.
terest and a Master of Hounds recounts a mind turns ,o such approving comment. Thh mWW ginger ale sfiarkUs with
Among such convemarioit as this, as much Us quality and flavor proclaim the . gaiety and refreshment
|l part of the scene as the butler, as neces- care with which it ts made The mellow flavor of “Canada Dry” en»
*ary to it as the people themselves, is Absolutely pure ingredients give “Canada hances the success of dinner.
'‘Canada Dry” Ginger Ale. Dry” basic excellence. Only high-quality gtmgi I fs g aict Y and joyousness add
The connoisseurs—people whose opinion Jamaica ginger is used. The blending and |t*7m good cheer when good friends
and approval make for the success of things balancing of the ingredients are exactly * ts zest and sparkle make
i —drink “Canada Dry.” In their opinion it proportioned. Hourly check-ups are made an even ‘ n g °f bridge even
is held high. For this fine old beverage to watch for variations from those pro- wmM\ more pleasant. Order “Can
makes its quality quietly felt. Their ap- portions. The carbonation, achieved by a BjmSmL ada toda y> and you’d
proval has been won by the marvelous flavor secret process, enables “Canada Dry” to know the thrill of drinking
\ jpf The Champagne of Ginger Ales. retain its sparkle long after the bottle is il-gSggL dl ‘ s wonderful ginger ale.
The Qhampagne of Qinger zAles I JESS®'
Irresistible Salesman.
THUMP, thump, thump! Some
body knocking at the kitchen
door. Portia Watson thrust her
head out of an upstairs window.
Who's there?” she demanded.
The face that looked up at her was
so unexpectedly winning that the dust
rag she was flirting over the sill es
caped from her hand. As it snow
flaked down the young man reached up
and caught it. Twisting it into a ball,
he flung it back to Portia, who caught
it. The scowl with which she always
greeted strangers of this kind gave way
to a smile. When Portia smiled she was
mysteriously charming, something she
had not been at 18.
"What do you want?" she asked
more gently.
"You!” he challenged her, head
flung back He was like a chestnut in
the sun. Bareheaded, his shirt was
open at the throat, his sleeves were
rolled up. He grinned .and his teeth
flashed white in his ruddy, boyish coun
tenance. "Come on down a minute,
lady I got something here you’ll be
interested in.”
"Can't bother. I’m busy. Besides I
never buy of peddlers.”
"Come on down, please, lady!”
Portia hesitated. Suddenly she left
the window and ran downstairs.
When she reached the kitchen door
she found him playing with Smoky.
Portia’s gray cat was voted a pest by
the neighborhood. He caught bird
lings. he scratched the tentatively ca
ressing hands of infants, he yowled on
moonlight nights 111 humored and
badly behaved was Smoky at best, yet
here he was flopping like a fish on the
stones of the back walk, purring at the
peddler's feet.
"Nice cat!” The boy gave Smoky a
i friendly mauling. He straightened up
i and pushed toward Portia a baby car
| riage which he had taken from the
! green truck waiting at the curb.
A wave of- indignant red flooded
Portia's face. She gasped.
The young peddler pushed the baby
carriage back and forth before his
prospective customer. It was woven
of reeds and it had cunning peek
windows in its tan-colored top. Smoky
curled about the wheels of the vehicle.
At last he leaped into the carriage.
Portia darted agonized glanc;j at the
adjoining houses. Mrs. Grant and
Maria Cole were both out, but likely to
return home at any instant. If either
of them saw her, she would never hear
the last of it. She thought wildly of
running in and slamming the door in
the boy’s face. But there was a look in
his eyes that convinced her that he
would thupnp on the back door until she
came out again. By that time every
body in the neighborhood would know
that a peddler was trying to sell Portia
i Watson, spinster, 40 years old, a baby
’ carriage.
Better to buy the thing and get rid of
! him quickly.
"How—how much is it?” she asked
He gave a price that was reasonable.
| Portia ran and got her purse. She
emptied the contents on his brown
palm. One cent short, but he let that
' go. '
; "Anybody at home next door?” he in
. quired.
s “N-no. But you can sell a carriage at
! No. 8 Oak street if you hurry right over
, there,” she panted.
1 "Thanks! I’ll do that.” He leaped
, toward the green truck.
1 Portia dragged her purchase into the
' house and locked the door. Almost at
1 that very Instant Mrs. Grant drove
home, with her Maria Cole, whom she
had picked up downtown, where they
were both pursuing their morning's
Saved! Portia sank limply into a
chair. She snatched off her pink dust
ing cap and with it wiped away beads
of perspiration from among her curl
Conscience began to stir. Why had
she sent the peddler to No. 8 Oak
street? She tried to think why that;
particular spot had leaped into her
mind. It was a casualty. She hadn’t
the least idea who lived at No. 8 Oak
! street.
Twenty minutes before Portia had
i been contentedly putting her bedroom
to rights. Now everything in her life
i seemed to be upside down. If only she
hadn't looked out of the window into a
i pair of dark eyes which made her re
member keenly something she hoped
! she had forgotten long, long ago.
She must get rid of that baby car
riage. Her club met at her house that
night. There was no place to hide the
thing from the dozen women who would
swarm all over the place.
Portia dashed upstairs. She wrenched
her hair from curl pins, did it in a neat
wad. She powdered her nose, changed
her clothes.
i Back downstairs, out to the shed,
, where she kept the old touring car
which her brother had left behind for
> her when he married. Ordinarily she
l hesitated to put the breath of life into
> the ancient engine, but her very des
• peratlon now lent her courage. She
• backed the car up to the kitchen door,
t When she had covered the baby car
i riage with a blanket she hoisted it into
i the tonneau. At least two of
• wondering eyes watched her as she
< whisked away.
Portia raced for open country. But
when she reached a lonely spot the en
gine went dead.
Portia got out -and inspected the
works. She didn’t have much idea of
them. She looked around for a house.
None in sight. But in a distant field
was a man cutting grass with a mowing
machine drawn by a pair of black
horses. Bhe waved to him frantically.
He ran to her rescue.
When he climbed over the stone wall
into the road beside her she nearly
collapsed. They stared at each other in
astonishment, neither expecting to And
the other there. But he spoke casually.
“Having engine trouble, Portia? Let's
see if I can help you.”
It was their first meeting in 20 years.
Maria Cole had whispered into Portia's
ear something about Charlie Russell
which Portia had been silly enough to
believe. She had pitched into Charlie.
He had sent both her and Maria to the
worst place he could think of. He was
through. After that there were no
more happy evenings for Portia, no
more fixing things for her hope chest.
Charlie married another girl. But be
fore this happened Portia had leraned
that Maria had lied out of jealous spite.
After rummaging through the engine
Charlie shook his head.
“I’ll tell you what you better do. Por
tia. Let me tow you over to my place.
It isn’t far, just out of sight around
the bend. My boy. Prank, is a cracker
Spray Dethol -they're dead!
KILL all those pests with Jpgk
Dethol. This wonderful in- Jf l \
secticide never fails. No fly fliH
can dodge it. Roaches can’t
hide from it. The deadly mist
penetrates every crevice.
Shows them no mercy. Flies,
mosquitoes, roaches, moths, b“ v
ants, bedbugs. They can’t live K
in a house where Dethol is ' j V
sprayed. No fuss—no bother. 4
Try Dethol. It’s a safe bet. f jdr-*
It has to satisfy or dealer re- "N
turns purchase price without
a murmur. Dethol Mfg, Co.,
Inc., Richmond, Va.
jack at machinery. He’ll be home to
dinner. That’s pretty soon now.”
Portia had to consent. But she did
some tall thinking while Charlie has
tened after his team. Bhe was miles
from town. Also she was miles from
Emmy Hutson's, to whom she was tak
ing the baby carriage. Emmy was poor
and site had just had a baby.
The black team, led by Charlie,
tugged at the car, steered by Portia,
through a bushy lane, up to a pleasant
.white house.
"There you are!” Charlie laughed.
“Now, I'll just tell our housekeeper that
she's going to have somebody besides
I Frank and me to eat her chicken and
cherry pie this noon. Come, have a
seat in the porch hammock, Portia.
You look warm and tired.”
The same old Charlie, a bit domineer
ing, but, oh. oh, so kind. Portia sank
into the porch hammock. Emotion flut
tered her. She hadn't heard that
Charlie’s wife was dead. But there were
so many Russells in. that locality, the
fact might have escaped her; or possi
bly it had happened while she was out
West with her brother, Jim. last year.
Thunder of wheels. A green truck
whirled out of the lane into the door
yard. Out jumped the peddler. He
saw Portia.
“Well, say! Am I seeing double? Or
is it you, lady?”.
And now Portia understood every
> thing. This was Charlie’s son. No
•wonder she had fotmd him Irresistible.
I "That old hen you sent me to chased
• me off the premises,” the boy said,
i grinning. “You’re some little liar.”
1 In the end it all came right. Frank
■ not only fixed Portia’s car, but he de
r livered the baby carriage to Emmy
' On the sereened-in back porch there
.’ was a regular dinner party.
“Frank's a whis at peddling,” Charlie
said. “Earned his own collage money
i that way. He could sell a fur coat to
6 a Sandwich Islander.’
( The chestnut-brown boy and the
; Atwater Kewt
I Screen-Grid I
I EAR the full voice of distant sta- H
tions . . • make the locals croon. You
* gm
command. The Atwater Kent Screen-Grid
1 Set is built to obey*
ATWATER KENT MFC. CO„ A. Atwater Kent, Prv5.,4700 Wlasahicktm Ave.. Philadelphia. Pa.
Strawberry Shortcake
» •
This week on the
The scarlet berries of romance /.. . C. E. McCullough, General Pass.
You’ll slip the weight of years when Agt., 613—14th St., N. W., W ashing
you taste this toothsome dish. For ton, D. C.
it’s the same you reveled in when you
.. . Red, juicy berries—tart and Now operated on a still faster schedule
sweet —with crisped, fluffy shortcake, hours to Chicago
and rich plain cream! 0 extra f are
You’ll feel—if you “travel Penn- 9M AM.
sylvania” this week—that you’ve Additional trains leave Washington for Chicago
realized at last your small-boy dreams at 7:55, 10:50 A.M., 2:45, 705, 7:20, 10:30 P.M.
of paradise: to sit before a spacious * 11
dining car window —with the fleet, fast tram u The Red Arrow
outer world peeping enviously in— Teaves Washington 3:55 P.M.
and munch .. . slowly, luxuriously Arrives Detroit 8:45 A.M.
... Strawberry Shortcake! / 4 £- p “S£ Ynt'ZZ^ZT.M.
Try it this week on Pennsylvania The Spirit of St. Louis leaves Washington at
Diners .. . It’s one of many delicacies 2:45 P.M. and arrives m St. Louis at l:20 P.M.
__ . i . For information and reservations telephone Mam
on tne menu. 9440. Sundays and holidays telephone National737o.
Send/or Itinerary of our personally conducted tours to the North and West
woman with frosted dark hair ex- ]
changed an understanding smile.
(Coprrisht. 1039.)
•Woman Motor Police Busy.
Eight policewomen on motor cycles |
are kept busy in patrolling the high- j i
ways of Gloucestershire, England, warn- j i
ing and protecting women and children.
Their pges range from 25 to 30, their i
pay Is from $17.50 to $22.50 a week, i
and th-v r- reive a mileage allowance i
for the up if cp of their motor cycles. 1
Big Paintings Puzzle Heirs.
What to do with the collection of
huge paintings of the late Tivadar
Csontvary, the Hungarian artist, has
been puzzling his heirs. Each picture Is
as large as the front of a good sized
house. A plan was tried of selling them
by the yard, but ao formidable was even
the task of unrolling them that when
an attempt to photograph them was
made the fire department was called In
to help spread them out in the great
courtyard of the city hall. This plan of
disposing of them did not succeed, so a
relative has bought the lot and Is stor
ing them in his garage for the present.

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