Brownsville herald. [volume], October 27, 1932, Image 6

About Brownsville herald. [volume] (Brownsville, Tex.) 1910-current

Image provided by: University of North Texas; Denton, TX

                
-FTER WE MARRIED
By Nina Wilcox Putnam Picture by James Montgomery Flagg
AX international marriage
is a good deal like one
of these Geneva con
ferences, — in both
cases you sign a lot of papers, and
make a flock of pretty promises,
and all the time there are mental
reservations, no matter what the
newspapers next day say about
perfect accord having been
reached.
I guess you were surprised
—eh. Eloise?—at me marrying
an Englishman. No, no, dear,
it wasn’t one of these driuk-and
be-married affairs. You know
I never drink a drop because my
pigeons hate the smell of liquor;
and when they are released at
the back of the house and come
flocking to my head and shoul
ders at the end of my act—well,
if those birds were ever to smell
liquor on my breath, the act
would be ruined. Those pigeons
of mine are all lady-pigeons, and
have been raised from, the egg as
such, especially Snowy and Little
White Angel.
But I know, dear, that you’re
dying to hear why. after the way
Kay Sheldon and 1 loved each
other. I ever happened to marry
the Honorable Clifford Dank.
Now. Eloise. don't you ever tell
a soul, but Kay gave me the air
in a large way. He took me back
from Chicago by airplane for my
personal appearance at Roxy’s on
the opening night of my first
picture, and on the way through
the air. he gave It to me: the
entire air in as many wave
lengths as I cared to take.
“There's no use. May," he said
gloomily. “1 can’t stand it any
longer; I’m goofy over you, of
course, and 1 probably will al
ways be that way. But here am
I, a poor youug lawyer; and
here are you, the famous May
Meadows, making five thousand
dollars a week. I’ve tried to ac
cept the idea that it don’t mat
ter who makes the most money
—but it’s not true; it does mat
ter!”
"If you really loved me. you’d
be above such sordid things,” I
said bitterly. "And I think it's
rotten of you to kirk at me being
such a success. So if it’s a case
of the woman paying for being
able to pay, here’s your ring.
BUT did 1 feel bad, dear? What
a question. Eloise! Cry?
Say. when I did my stunt at
Roxy’s that night, the pigeons
th night they were ducks! Yeah,
you know the way I call those
birds and get them to come to
me with such a rush? No? Oh.
1 thought you knew the whole
secret! Well. Eloise. you see.
they are all lady-pigeons, and I
use the love-call of the male
pigeon! Sure! Well, anyway,
when I gave the matlng-cry that
night, it made me think of Ray.
and It’s lucky the birds were so
thick about my head and shoul
ders. because the tears were
ruining my make-up.
When a few days later Fllck
meyer told me he wanted me to
go to London for six weeks at the
Kit Kat Club, did I jump at the
chance to get away! I just told
Marie Gazelle, my French-fried
niafd from Harlem, to pack up the
birds in their gilded cages, and
feeling a good deal like one my
self. we hopped a trans-Atlantic
hotel, and that's where 1 made
my mistake.
How did I meet Clifford? Why.
we were properly Introduced by
the manager at the Kit Kat.
And Eloise, I will say I’d been
getting a terrific kick out of
merely looking at Cliff even be
fore I'd met him.
Cliff was blond and tall, with
that schoolgirl complexion and
a certain something about him
which made you know, even
before he spoke, that he would
do so with a Boston accent.
And did he? Eloise, he was
without a doubt a perfect gentle
man. Not a self-made one, un
derstand. but an ancestor-made
gentleman.
"TITOST frightfully nice of you,”
he murmured as I ac
cepted a seat at his table.
"Simply ripping, isn’t it, old
thing?" he added to his friend,
who never even looked to see
what was ripping, but helped
make me comfortable. 1 got a
big kick out of everything Clif
ford said, even when it was only
to suggest a "bird and a bottle,
and a bit of a savory, eh what?"
as supper, though I personally
would have preferred a Western
sandwich, but try and get one,
see?
Well, Elolse. you may have
heard that Englishmen are cold.
So in a thermos bottle, but not
when it’s filled with hot stuff;
and this was Cliff, as l found
out after supper when he hailed
one of those ticket-booths on
wheels they call taxles over
there, and neatly shaking Sir
John, insisted upon taking me
hack to my hotel. The moment
we were in the absolute privacy
of the taxi. Clifford, who had be
haved with positively startling
good form in the Kit Kat, sud
denly buried his face iu my lap
and smothered my hands with
kisses.
"Beautiful!” he murmured.
"My dream girl! I'm mad about
you. 1 love you, I swear I do!*”
"Clever work!" I thought.
"Passionate but respectful, a
■well new line!” But out loud
l said; "Why, Mr. Dunk, you
mustn’t. Really, now, it won’t
do!"
"I adore you!" he said. "It
may be madness, hut such a
sweet madness! Don't tell me I
am repellent to you. when I
want you so! I need you. Can
you make me happy?"
WELL, Eioise. you've probably
often heard where the Eng
lish are reserved and have no
sentiment. That's because the
ones who spread those rumors
have only seen the English per
form in public; but I'm here to
tell you that in private they let
go. They say all the things we
Americans think, hut v.x* kid
along instead; and I will admit
there was a big thrill in being
made love to in the actual lan
guage of love, if you cau see my
point. At the time I didn't even
notice the catch in that can-you
make-me-happy line. because
there is nothing gets to a woman
any quicker than being needed.
Apparently, though Kay felt he
could struggle along without me,
this English guy just dimply
couldn't make the grade; and
feeling desperately lonely and
miserable. I fell At least I
stumbled sufficiently to run a
tentative hand over Clifford’s
blond curls and murmur: "Can
this be love?”
The next day Clifford — he’d
volunteered permission for me to
call him Clifford — o^tne around
to my hotel as soon as he get up
which was just about tea-time. I
didn’t realize it w is i<a-timc.
Eloisc. until Clifford got there.
because up to then tea and I had
met only when I had a headache.
And when he first arrived. !
thought I’d offended Clifford in
some way. because he was very
stiff and formal and asked for
tea. Then Mare Gazelle I ft ti
sitting-room to order it. and im
mediately she was gone, Clifford
descended on me like the rharge
of the Light Brigade. Then he
smiled at me that nice, clean,
well-scruabed English smile of
his and gavly sung his greeting.
"My proclous!” he said. “My
very own! I say, I forgot to ask
last night! You haven’t got an
inconvenient husband by any
beastly ill luck?”
"No husband.” I said. "No
body, only you."
ince this tea-duty had been
dismissed, he made biz propo al
of marriage as prettily and con
ventionally ns if he'd rehearsed
it under a big director who knew
his stuff.
I’M not sure If you cun realize.
Eloise, just what that pro
posal meant to me, a girl who
had fought her own way up from
being the daughter of a small
town doctor to being one of the
biggest vaudeville headliners of
the day. Even my career hadn’t
offered what Clifford was offer
ing me when lie got dow n on one
knee, after carefully hitching up
one trouser-leg. and asked me to
be his wife In so many words.
Just kindly remember that
while Cliff was only an Honor
able, he was fifth in line to be
come the Earl of Chisel — yes.
pronounced "chisel,” as in sharp
dealing.
At the end of it Clifford and
I came up for air. and in a busi
nesslike manner which surprised
me a lot in one so aristocratic,
he came to the point about fi
nances. It reminded me of Kay.
because It was so different.
"There Is only one beastlv
difficulty about getting married.”
said Cliff. "I UMMI to say,
money Because of course you
can’t keep on working — it
wouldn't look right; and until
my dear old pater die*. I've ouly
got two hundred a year.” Well,
the scent of good snap, better to
bacco and a much-needed kiss
had gone to my head, Kloise;
and so I told the truth right
away.
"I’ve got some.” I let hint
know. ' -iout fifty thousand
dollars saved, in fact. It's not
very much.''
“But It'll do splendidly to
start us off!” cried Clifford,
brightening Immediately. "And
of course the pater might pop
off any time, and as his money
is entailed, I have to get it
eventual!# you know. If you've
got all that tucked away, there
isn’t an earthly reason for post
poning our happiness, is there,
dearest ?**
Somehow it seemed so natural
to Cliflord to use my money that
lie actually had me thinking the
same. And besides, seeing that
my money bad once stood be
tween me ami love. I was ac
tually relieved to find It did not
prejudice Clifford against me.
Well, Eloise, of course 1 had
to finish out my contract at the
Kit Kat before we could be mar
ried. and some instinct told me
to save all 1 could out of the
three-weeks’ salary that was
coming to me. And anyway, it
takes three weeks to get married
in London, because they have to
publish the Bands. No, the
Bands is not a musical weekly,
dear. It merely means that the
minister reads out the two
names of the contracting parties
from the pulpit, and if any of
your friends happen to attend
that church, well, they get three
successive chances to get up and
pul the hug on the whole affair.
In the meanwhile I met Clifford's
mother.
7AS 1 nervous? Well, how
would you feel, Eloise, if
you had to meet a woman who
was not alone going to be your
mother-in-law. hut who was
called Lady Dank? I had a pic
ture of her walking in on me
wearing a tiara and looking me
over through a pair of those ex
tension-ladder spectacles. Clif
ford invited us both to tea at
his rooms, and I got there first,
and my hands felt like a pair of
raw oysters on the half-shell
when she was announced. Put
when she got actually into the
room, that was something yet
again. For instead of a tiara.
Cliff's mother was wearing a
well-tee'd-up vintage hat which
she immediately unskewered and
threw on the nearest chair, dis
closing a face like a nice old
horse.
"How about a spot of whiskey
and soda, dear boy?” she asked.
Then she turned to me with a
smile that lit up her weather
beaten face wonderfully. "And
so you're going to take Cliff on!"
she said pleasantly. "Well, my
dear, 1 can't say I'm anything
hut pleased. American cousins,
right sort of feeling between the
two nations, and all that sort of
thing. Splendid! Do you care
for pigeon*?”
“1 spe ialize in pigeons!" I
* said. "In fact, you might al
most say itigtvH is my middle
name!"
• Ripping!" said Lady Dank.
"Bring her down to Blytliing for
the pigeons on the twentieth.
Cliff; she'll enjoy it, I think!”
And having got that settled, the
oid girl launched off into a flood
of informal chatter about things
' and places I’d never heard of—
all very pleasant and friendly.
Well. Clifford and I finally got
married. It wa3 a quiet wed
ding; all Clifford brought to it
was his love, a white gardenia
in his own buttonhole, a pair of
white spats and General Sir John
Hokumb.
After wre were married, dear,
the first thing we did was to
move into my hotel. Of course,
dear, the suite I had at the
Savoy was one I had taken
while earning a huge salary, and
was a w hole lot more expensive
than we should have afforded
on the money wo had. But
v
V"/
. >*►
*
i In out ilie inolc-pigcon call. Oi- ■m' • ilie pigeons, lieutloil
straight for me. . . . The hurl t.u^ inaihlert of all.
Cliff was so obviously used to
nothing but the best, that l
didn’t have the heart to point
this out; and besides, it seemed
so sort of sordid to talk about
money on a honeymoon. Some
thing about Clifford always made
me feel that money was sordid,
but that unpaid bills were okay.
He hated the very mention of
money, and never spoke of it ex
cept to borrow a little every now
and then. And finally after he’d
pointed out that it would be more
dignified if l put my bank-ac
count in both our name? so's he
could pay the hotel-bills, and I'd
done so. why. he hardly ever re
ferred to money again and gut
quite cross when 1 did.
ND of course I didn't want
—» him to be depressed, so I'd
lay off. But in private I got
more and more depressed, Eioi.se,
as the old tank-account shrunk
and shrunk, and Clifford didn't
show the faintest signs of look
ing for a job. Finally when
about six weeks had gone by and
the hardest work Clifford had
done was choose an expensive
meal off the hotel menu. 1
brought up the subject of earn
ing, in a delicate way. Clifford
looked at me with a hurt expres
sion in his clear, honest blue
eyes.
"A Job?" he said, wrinkling
his handsome brow. "You mean
a position of some sort?”
"Any position except a sit
ting one." I suggested. "I should
think you'd enjoy working!”
“I say, you are a wag, dear
est!” said Cliff, smiling sweetly.
"Keally now. there's quite a bit
left la ♦‘•e hank, so don’t let's
worry about money until we
have to. Then perhaps l can
touch Mother —- she’s generally
good for a tenner at least. And
as for my golnb into some sort
of employment, why. my dear,
since the war. jobs simply don't
exist in England!”
! knew all about the unem
ployment !•> F’*gland — I was
^• i' g ni- ittv of |t right in my
own home. . . . Now, don't knock
Clifford like that, Eloise. be
cause really he was a thorough
ly nice boy. it was just his re
verse English which made him
be that way.
But w hen it came to spend
ing. Clifford wasn't so shy; we
never went out for a walk that
he didn’t see some ties or hand
kerchiefs or shoes or iiats or
canes he really needed terribly.
He'd turn to me with the sweet
est smile and say, “Do you mind
awfully if I get it—I really do
need It!" And I gave and gave
until it hurt.
By the time the famous 20th
of August came around and we
were due up at that house-party
at Biything Manor (but pro
nounced Blithering Manner; 1
mean the one Lady Dank bad
asked us up tori—well, by then
we were just about broke, and
I was wondering what or. earih
to do next. This house-party
was to be my official introduction
to English high society.
Now, Eloise. you might think
that an English house-party
would be a pretty formal affair.
But not at all. When I walked
into that bunch of titles—and all
of them to good real-estate, too.
mind you. Elois * — the folks
were so Informal I didn't even
get introduced Lady Dank acted
as if I'd Iways hen in the fam
ily Nob bad an;, nut liners at
<i
all. ai.<l believe it or not. In Eng
land that is considered the height
of good form. The ruder you are.
the higher class you’re consider
ed. The Earl of Chisel was
there in a threadbare tweed coat,
and he couldn't speak decently
to anybody if he tried; but every
one claimed he was a "perfect
old deah’*—judging from which
these English deers in their deer
parks must he lion-eaters. And
it was about then that 1 begun
to get on to the fact that in Eng
land everything revolves around
the men; the ladies are Just so
many caddies, trailing around
after ’em and glad to be let. I'p
to then I’d thought Clifford was
exceptional, hut when I saw all
the other women take it and like
It, I began to realize it was just
an old English custom.
SE of the chief functions of
_ an English wife is to explain
to her husband that it’s not his
fault, no matter what happens.
I even once saw’ the Karl of
Chisel drop a teacup on the
floor and as his wife picked
it up she murmured apologetic
ally: "So sorry, my d^ar—the;.e
beastly teacups are unreasonably
slippery! I really must get some
that one can hold decently!"
Yeah, no kidding. Eloise!
Well, after seeing several such
demonstrations, I began for the
first time to think seriously
about the rights of women. I p
to then I really hadn’t realized
how many rights I'd been enjoy
ing all my life. And by the time
wo got around to the pigeons, I
was boiling mad and determined
to show these makers of the
British Umpire what was what.
Now you see, Eloise, on these
"shoots,” as they call ’em, the
men do the shooting and the
women merely “go out with the
guns.” The men walked ahead
this morning I’m telling you
about, and behind them came
the fellows who carried the am
munition. and then came us
ladecs. at a lesoectful distance.
Pretty soon we saw a wood*
ahead of us.
"The pigeons are in there.”
said Lady Dank, who was walk
in* with me "Very soon you’ll
see some sport, my dear!"
“You will that!” I said with
a sudden inspiration. And put.
ting back my head I let out the
male-pigeon call I use in tnjr act
— let it out gold and loud.
AND it worked — out of the
woods came the pigeons,
flocks of ’em, my dear, simply
flocks of pigeons, headed right
for me! They circled around
and around me. wondering what
the so-and-so it was all about;
and of course with me in the
middle of them, nobody could
shoot, though by then undoubt
edly everybody in the place
wanted to—with me as the tar
get. The Earl was the maddest
of them all. and came running
toward me. purple In the face
and sputtering so he could hard
ly get out tho nice gentlemanly
bad language he was trying to
use.
“What the devil are you do
ing?” he shouted. "The shoot
is ruined! How dare you do a
thing like that?”
' Well.” said I calmly, “ever
slnco I’ve been down here, you
men have hud all the innings.
You've had all the Ashing;
you've ridden the best horses.
taken the best seats in the cars,
the most comfortable places by
the fire, the white of the chicken,
the cream of everything that was
going, while we girls have been
getting the lean end' Why.
we’ve waited on you men to such
an extent we haven’t even had
time to put our own make-up on
properly. I’m sick and tired of
the program, and I thought it
was about time the ladies had
something, even if it was only a
tow pigeons! And anyway, if
you knew as much about pigeons
as I do, you wouldn’t kill them!
You can't eat them all. and I be.
iug a personal friend to pigeons,
won’t stand for a massacre,
either of pigeons or woman
hood!” And with that I turned
on my heel and walked away.
Well. Eloise. I guess you can
see where those pigeons were no
doves of peace’ And there was
a sort of omnibus quiet between
(Miff and myself in the big Jit
ney which we took back to Lon
don about an hour later. But
as soon as we found ourselves
alone in the privacy of our suite
at the Savoy he let fly at me.
“Beastly!" he said. "The man
ner in which you have behaved
is simply beastly. But then,
frankly speaking, I suppose I
may as well recognize the fact
that you are just a vulgar Amer
ican and can never be civilized."
“Pronounced crude, like in
nil," I murmured. "Oh. we
aborigines are a wonderful little
people, but you haven't seen me
do my war-dance yet! And from
what I’ve seen of you and your
folks. I’d say you were kind of
a primitive race yoursetves!"
"I,” said the Honorable Clif
ford with dignity. "I am de
scended from William the Con
queror!”
“Yeah, descended a whole lot."
I agreed with him. "As for m/
ancestors, well, maybe I’ll be my
own ancestor one of these days.
that is, I may if I get out of
here quick and hitch up with
some better partner than you in
the an <-tor-making business! I
fully Intend,” I added firmly, “to
have descendants point with
pride at the outside lobby .display
enlargements of me as an an
cestral portrait that really repre
sents something worth while.
Which, me lord, is why I’m giv
ing you the air.”
THIS remark, Eloise, had a
most surprising effect on the
Honorable Clifford. His jaw
suddenly dropped so low it near
ly hit his knee.
"But you can’t leave me!” he
said. "How could I live? What
would people say? And besides,
my dear. I should be absolutely
wretched without you!”
I banged out of the living
room. leaving Clifford muttering.
* She's impossible!”
Well, dear, the minute I was
alone in the bedroom, the first
thing 1 noticed was the mail that
bad arrived while I was week
ending; and there of all things,
nestling among the bills like a
drop of sunshine, was an en
velope addressed in an all-too
famiiiar hand and with a good
old American stamp on It.
"May. dear, I have been an A!
damn’ fool." Ray Sheldon had
written. "I’m nuts over you,
and I can’t make the grade with
out you—on the level. If you ever
need me, well, the same address
will always get me. and I’ll sure
hot-foot it to you If you give me
the high-sign. I’m making some
real dough now, but I'll middle,
aisle It with you quite aside from
that reason; and I don't give a
hoot whether we hold the wed
ding breakfast at the Rltz or at
the Automat. It’s up to you.
baby!—Yours, whether you like
It or not. Ray.”
GOSH, wasn't that a romantic
letter. Eloise? I Just stood
there thrilling solid for several
minutes, and then I stuck Ray’s
olive-branch in the front of my
girdle and fastened It there with
a big safety-pin so's It wouldn't
make a getawav at the wrong
moment. And when I went back
to the livi.ig-room. who had ar
rived only Clifford’s mamma and
Clifford's papaw. When she saw
me. Lady Dank started to get up
and speak, but her husband beat
her to it.
“Leave this to me, Emma!"
he said like a general command
ing an army of one. “Leave this
to me; I will handle it." Then
he lent me a little of bis atten
tion.
••Ahem!" he said. "Arrufft
Well, well, now, I say! My son
Informed me over the telephone
that you have had some differ
ence. And here we are, here we
are; and now. my girl, what
have you to say for yourself?
Ahem!”
“Cedric dear!" said his wife
timidly. “I’m sure May meant
no harm. Surely she can’t in
tend leaving! Why. what would
become of Clifford If she went
away?”
“Well, he might visit around
a few country-houses," I sug
gested.
Well. Eloise. to tell the Gawd’s
honest truth, I felt terrible sorry
for those three innocents. They
had no more real Idea of what
was wrong than a frog don't
realize why he has no feathers!
All of ’em looked at me so hurt
that I felt myself weakening.
Then the safety-pin holding
Ray’s letter come undone and
give me a sharp jab, and I snap
ped out of It firmly; but I wasn't
nasty any more. In fact, l went
over and took that good old scout
Lady Dank by the hand. ,
“Listen, dearie!” I said. “I
hate to hurt any of you folks,
but I hate even worst to hurt
myself beyond repair. If I get
out now, while the getting Is
good, Clifford and I both can get
a break out of life while we’re
young enough to do it. What
Clifford needs Is an heiress, not
a pigeon-tamer, and what I need
is a Job. We’re both going to
get it. you'll see! And.” I went
on, turning to my father-in-law.
“I would also like to thank you
for the lesson In good manners
you and your pals have handed
me.”
THE old boy squared his shoul
ders and swallowed that
whole. Eloise.
“Arruff.”’ he says. “Very de
cent of you. my dear, very decent.
I’m sure. Sorry, in a way. you're
not stopping on! In time ws
might make a gentlewoman out
of you!”
I hastily gave my attention
to Clifford, who was by now com
pletely broken up.
“Old thing." I said, “tha act’s
over, and I’m going on tour
again. You can always reach
me in care of Variety. No need
of hating each other just be
cause we were once married, is
there?” But Clifford couldn't
speak. You see, Eloise. these
English are such a terribly senti
mental. emotional lot. I knew
he was about to hurst into tears
and maybe go down on his knees,
when mercifully there was a
knock on the door, and all three
Hanks pulled themselves to.
gether. It was Marie Gazelle
who entered.
"Tea is served!” she says.
And as usual in England. Eloise.
tea saved the day. All of which,
dear, is how I come to sail back
home on the He de France, pro
nounced F.tl D. France; and no
sooner was I safely on hoard,
than I was up in the wireless
operator’s room, sending Itay a
message.
“COMING BACK HOME AND
BROKE STOP PLEASE MEET
ME WITH HCNDRED DOLLAR8
AND RAG OF PIGEON-FEED
STOP.”
Then I hesitated. Eloise. for (
didn’t want to ge*. sloppy, but
my association with those ro
mantic English had told on me. .
so I added: “I LOVE YOIT STOP
STOP STOP DON’T YOU DARE
TO 8TOP.—MAY’’
(Opyrlcht INI. Th« R«u OrsdtMte. las.)