Brownsville herald. [volume], August 16, 1933, Page TWO, Image 2

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

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

                
Snmmsufllc Herald
Established July 4, 1892
Published every afternoon (except Saturday) and Sunday morning.
Entered as second-class matter in the Postoffice,
._Brownsville. Texas
THE BROWNSVILLE HERALD PUBLISHING COMPANY
_ _ 1263 Adams St, Brownsville, Texas
MEMBER OF THE ASSOCIATED PRESS
The Associated Press is exclusively entitled to the use for publication of
su news dispatches credited to it or not otherwise credited in this paper,
tod also the local news published herein.
Subscription Rates—Daily and Sunday:
One Year ...... 19.00
Six Months ,,,,,,,, 14.50
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TEXAS DAILY PRESS LEAGUE
National Advertising Representative
Dallas, Texas, 512 Mercantile Bank Building.
Kansas City, Mo„ 306 Coca-Cola Building.
Chicago, 111, 180 North Michigan Avenue.
Los Angeles, Cal, Room 1015 New Orpheum Bldg, 846 B. Broadway.
New York, 370 Lexington Avenue.
St. Louis, 502 Star Building.
Ban Francisco, Cal, 318 Kohl Building.
Business Is Better
Figures from Washington tell a reassuring story of
the extent of the pickup in business.
Activity in June and early July was 89 per cent of
the 1923-25 average, an increase of 12 per cent over May,
and 33 per cent over July of last year. Output of steel,
automobiles, shoes, textiles, and many other products in
creased.
The American Federation of Labor estimates that
1,500,000 persons have found jobs since March. This is
a distict gain, but labor officials point out that 11,500,
000 persons are still without work. Success of present
efforts of NRA would mean that 5,000,000 or 6,000,000
of these would be employed by September.
There are indications that production is running
•ahead of consumption, since department store sales in
June receded 1 per cent. An appreciable increase in em_
ployment would stimulate mass buying power.
Conditions still remain far from normal and the
country is by no means out of the woods. But the curve
is swinging upward.
The Forest Army
Good reports come from the 1428 camps scattered
over the country in which some 300,000 youths are en
rolled in the Civilian Conservation Corps.
These amateur foresters, according to government
officials, are earning their keep in improving the nation’s
forests by building roads and bridges, clearing underbrush,
protecting the forests against fire and pests, and per.
forming other useful tasks.
In addition, the young men, most of whom otherwise
would be idle, are engaged in healthful outdoor wrork,
and seem to be having a pretty good time of it. The gov
ernment is spending about $20,000,000 a month in main
taining the corps, but most of this is sent to the families
of the workers, who have been on relief rolls.
The forest army was originally enlisted for six
months, but unless Congress objects, will be kept at work
until spring because of the good showing that has been
made.
The Kidnaping Menace
The series of kidnapings which have provided so many
bkick headlines for the newspapers recently comes as a
shocking and horrifying development; and the insolence
and defiance of the underworld which produced them re
mind us sharply that so far we have made no headway
whatever in our avowed fight to check gangsterism.
Few crimes strike so directly at the security and safe
ty which organized society seeks to provide for its mem
bers as does kidnaping. It is the meanest of crimes and the
most dangerous. It can flourish only when society’s means
of protecting itself against lawlessness is on the very
edge of collapse.
These recent kidnapings ought to arouse us to tackle
the whole problem of gangsterism with genuine vigor and
determination. The job -will be one of the hardest vne
ever undertook; but it will also be one of the most im
portant.
(Continued From Page One)
she reached the third floor. She
had just five minutes to change
from the brown ensemble which
was her wedding costume into her
smart but simple black office
dress. The change was accom
plished in the allotted time and
the brown costume and the cor
sage of creamy, fragrant rosebuds
with tawny orchids that Dick had
sent, put away in her locker.
Thank goodness none of the girls
whom she knew at Bixby’s had
spied that corsage! They could
scent a wedding months away.
She slipped off her wedding
ring, the little circlet of pale yel
low gold engraved with orange
blossoms which she had chosen
instead of platinum because it
matched the golden lights in her
amber eyes and honey-colored hair
and harmonized with the October
browns and yellows that were her
favorite colors. She put the ring
in the chamois envelope which
guarded her money and trinkets.
Eve had told no one at Bixby’s that
she was to be married today. She
would not tell them for a while—
not until she was certain she wish
ed them to know.
Oh, she should have waited until
June to be married ,she told her
self unhappily as she went into the
office. If only they could have
been married Saturday instead of
today, it would have • helped the
situation some. But the state law
had been changed and a three-day
notice was required before a mar
riage license could be issued. She
knew she should not be thinking
about all this now. She must keep
her nerves steady and her mind
clear for that conference with Mr.
Barnes at two o’clock. She hoped,
yet feared, the outcome of that
conference.
¥ 9 ■
Eve was relieved to find there
was no one in the advertising of
fice except Marya Vlad, the fashion
artist, who was working at her
drawing board in a corner by the
window. Perhaps Marya was not
so oblivious to what went on about
her as she seemed. Perhaps her
candid blue eyes were more pene
trating than her fellow workers
realized, but at any rate she was
too courteous and considerate to
ask questions that might prove un
welcome. She merely looked up
and smiled as Eve entered.
“Did any one ask for me?” Marya
knew of the conference with Mr.
Barnes, scheduled for two o’clock.
“No one. How lovely you look
today, Eve.”
“Oh, I'm glad you think so! I
have a special reason for wanting
to look well today.”
“Is that so.” echoed a voice in
gay raillery and Arlene Smith,
Earle Barnes stenographer, entered
the office, only a few steps behind
Eve. “Don’t tell us you are turn
ing to such tactics to land a pro
motion,” Arlene went on. “Not aft
er the way I’ve been bragging to
my family about the high-minded
ness and all-around superiority of
this office force!”
“Goodness, no!” laughed Eve.
“The promotion, if any, hasn’t a
thing to do with my wish. I just
came in from a date with a very
special man. He's the marked vic
tim of my fatal charm—not Mr.
Barnes, nor yet Mr. Bixby.”
“Oh, I know,” said Arlene. “The
strong, silent one who parks that
yellow roadster at the side entrance
at quitting time about five evenings
a week. Listen, dearie, any time
you get a chance to pass up this
madhouse in exchange for a per
manent seat in that roadster and
the privilege of operating a kitchen
et and can-opener for that young
man you’d better grab off the
prize.”
“Sometimes I really believe you
prefer domesticity to a business
career,” Eve said.
“Just watch me help myself to
the first chance at) sweet domes
ticity that comes my way,” was
Arlene's fervent reply. “’I’m fully
as domestic as Marya, here, and
twice as domestic as you, Eve. But
do the men see that? They do not!
I’m all right to play around with
but when they begin to shop around
for an engagement ring they have
some sweet young thing like you or
Marya in mind.”
Eve laughed uneasily and
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slipped a fresh sheet of paper
into her typewriter. The con
versation was on dangerous
ground. It had been on the tip
of her tongue a moment ago to
tell Arlene and Marya about the
wedding that noon in the Little
Stone Church, but she was not
yet ready for that disclosure. Too
many things were crowding them
selves into this day.
• • •
'T'HE second of the most Impor
* tant events of Eve’s life was
to take place within two hours
after her wedding. Two sharp
sounds of the buzzer summoned
her to the office of Earle Barnes,
advertising manager of Bixby’s.
Although her work took her to
Barnes’ office many times each
day. Eve felt half-sick with trepi
dation this time. She trembled
involuntarily, and her head
throbbed with a dull ache. Yet
she strove to maintain an appear
ance of outward calm. A swift
glance in the wavy old mirror
hanging over the washstand in
the corner reassured her, and the
group gathered about Barnes'
desk little suspected that the
lovely, flushed face and eager
bright eyes of the girl joining
them masked real fright. Eve’s
chin was held high, however, and
she managed a smile as she ac
knowledged the salutatory nod of
white-haired Mr. Bixby, founder
and owner of the store. So much
depended upon the outcome oi
this conference.
Barnes drew up a chair for Eve,
next to Alice Marshall, who was
first assistant advertising man
ager. Mr. Bixby brought from
his vest pocket a pair of Oxford
glasses which he unfolded and ad
justed on his dignified nose. “The
better to see you, my dear,"
thought Eve, and she felt that
with the aid of those powerful
lenses he could pierce through
to her innermost thoughts and
discover her secret.
“Miss Bayless,” he began with
customary dignity, “you are un
doubtedly aware that It is the
policy of the Bixby store to watch
carefully the progress of each of
its employees. From the time you
joined us we have noted with sat
isfaction your spirit toward your
work, your co-operation and your
initiative.” Mr. Bixby smoothed
the narrow black ribbon attached
to his glasses before he went on
“Miss Marshall is leaving us,
as you, of course, know. And it
becomes necessary for us to
choose a successor to fill her posi
tion. Mr. Barnes and I discussed
the matter of the New York trip
after my talk with you this morn
ing, Miss Bayless, and it has been
definitely decided that you are to
go.”
“Oh—how nice!” Eve managed
to articulate.
“It will give added interest and
Importance to the launching of
your special column and ought to
give you talking points for many
weeks to come. Women read de
partment store advertising pri
marily for the purpose of learn
ing of bargains and new merchan
dise. I’ve always contended,
however, that in addition adver
tising should be chatty and inter
esting in itself. Well, we’re
counting on you to make Bixby’s
advertising chatty and interest
ing.
“What t’tis change may lead to
eventually depends largely upon
yourself—the selling power of
your copy, your initiative and the
ability you display in other ways.”
“Thank you. I’ll do my very
best,” Eve promised. “Do you—
did you definitely decide that I’m
to go tonight? I could go a little
later just as well.” Eve was pray
ing in her heart, “Not tonight.
Hear God, don’t let it be tonight!”
CHAPTER I-A
jl YR. BIXBY frowned slightly.
^ "Yes, you are to start to
night. I thought that point was
definitely understood. As yon
know, Miss Marshal) leaves Sat
urday. We want you here the fol
lowing Monday.
“Go up to my office,” Mr. Bixby
went on, “and Miss Birney will
take care of your expense money.
She’s wired for a hotel reserva
tion and ordered your transporta
tion. Take whatever time you
need this afternoon to go home
and pack or for shopping.” With
an indulgent smile he dismissed
an exultant yet frightened Eve.
Eve knew that this trip to New
York meant that the management
at Bixby’s had almost ceTtainly
decided upon her as the successor
to Alice Marshall. When she ac
cepted the expense money for the
trip, she felt she had sealed her
fate. It was the thing she had}
wanted, of course. She had slaved j
to get where she was. Eve’s
work always had come before her
pleasures aud ever since she be
gan working she had bent all her
energy toward one goal—to be
come manager of an advertising
office. This promotion was a long
and important step toward that
ambition.
The expense money exchanged
for Travelers’ checks and tucked
safely into the chamois bag with
her precious wedding ring. Eve J
went to the Y. W. C. A- where
she had roomed ever since com
ing to Lake City, and packed &
bag for the New York trip.
The small, shabby room at the
Y that she had occupied these!
last busy, happy months of her j
girlhood already seemed a little
strange, a little deserted. Eve |
had stayed on here even after she
could have afforded more attrac- *
tive and comfortable quarters.
This decision was prompted en
tirely by economy. The building
was conveniently near her work, j
and provided room and board at j
a very reasonable rate. Eve pre
ferred to economize thus and puti
the money saved Into pretty'
clothes r d educati -al advance
ment. Eve was careful; thrifty.
She did nothing without a defi
nite purpose.
From the little table that
served as a writing desk the pic
tured face of Eve’s mother smiled
at her from its cheap frame—
the warm, steady mother-smile
that had been unfailing all
through Eve’s life. Now she
paused contritely before that pic
cure of Kate Bayless, it was
wrong, of course, not to have
written to her mother that she
was marrying Dick today. It was
the first time she had ever shut
her mother out from any impor
tant event of her life. True, she;
and Dick had decided hastily.
And of course her mother was
certain to approve of Dick, Eve
reflected proudly. Her father,
too. Dick Rader was exactly the
sort of dependable, industrious
young man to please the most
exacting parents. Nothing to
With a quick look to see that no one n>as near, Dick gathered
her in his arms.
worry about on that score.
Suddenly Eve was conscious of
that cheap, nondescript frame
that held her mother’s picture.
Always she had planned to buy a
better one, but always there had!
been something she had wanted I
for herself. Now she was ashamed
that Dick should see her mother’s j
picture in this frame. It almost'
seemed to her that he would
know about the various things j
she had bought for herself with 1
money that might have bought a
frame. She would buy a new one
in New York—a lovely, silver one. I
• • •
she packed for the trip Eve I
remembered regretfully that!
she really had very little beside i
her clothes to take to her new
home. She had never as do so
many girls, bought pretty things
to adorn her future home. Esther, i
her sister, had dozens of lovely
gifts to take with her when she
married. But Esther bad bad a
long engagement to a home-town
boy, showers, engagement parties,
and a wedding to which a wide
circle of relatives and friends |
were Invited. Those things
meant so much to Esther. With
Eve marriage was important, but
so was her career.
Eve recalled how she had
started at Bixby’s. Determined
to get a foothold as a copy-writer,
she had made the rounds of all
the agencies and all the stores
in Lake City before she reached
Bixby’s. The fact that no one
needed a beginner and frankly
told her so, had not discouraged
her but merely put her on her
mettle. Then she did what she
considered a daring, preposterous
thing. She went to Bixby’s, most
exclusive store of all, and begged
Earle Barnes, the advertising
manager, to give her a trial.
"Never mind discussing salary
now,” she had said. “Let me
work two weeks. Then give me
what you think I’m worth.” And
that astute gentleman, who prided
himself on bis shrewdness In
judging an applicant’s character
and ability, had told her to go
ahead.
“But remember,” he warned
her, “I’m not prom'iing you a defi
nite Job. There isn’t an opening
here at present. You’ll have to
make a place for yourself.
Browse around here and there in
the store. If you see merchan
dise that looks to you like news,
write about it. If you make
good—”
And EJve had made good. Now
Barnes was demonstrating his
faith in her ability by giving her
a column in Bizby’s daily adver
tisement to fill with chatty com
ment on the fashions, new mer
chandise and the like. And to
give the column an Impressive
start, Eve was to have a week in
New York. Two days with Freda
Carter, the dress buyer, on her
way home from Paris with trunks
filled with gowns from the Rue
de la Paix, and the rest of the
week to look about for herself.
Eve’s heart should sing, she told
herself, instead of lying like a
lump of lead and interfering
w'1'' h?r breath iler heart
should sing because she was
Dick’s wife. But this evening—
the evening of their wedding—
she was going to New York with
out him. And Dick had not yet
been told that she was going.
IT was 6:40 that evening before
Eve, almost breathless with
haste and excitement, emerged
from Bixby’s. Dick was waiting.
There was something almost pa
thetic about the way she ap
proached him. “Oh, Dick, I’ve
kept you waiting!" she cried,
penitent, as she slipped her arm
through his. And something re
assuring, protecting, in his an
swer that be would always be
waiting for ber.
The November day had turned
stormy and Eve brushed the snow
from Dick's shoulders as they
reached his roadster. How band
some be looked in bis new navy
blue camel’s bair overcoat. There
was an air of unassuming pros
perity about him. Dick tucked
her in, pressed her hand and
closed the door. When he slipped
behind the wheel and started the
motor Eve leaned over and kissed
him. With a quick look to see
that no one was near, Dick gath
ered her in his arms for a brief
instant and as quickly let her go.
She would tell him now. Might
as well have it over.
"Dick,” she began, ”1 have
something very, very Important
to tell you.”
"Better wait till we get out of
this traffic,” he warned. "We’ll
have a lot to talk over then.”
And Eve was glad for the de- 9
lay. It was not going to be easy
to tell him. They followed the
bouler- ' c ' toward the I’
Dick driving at the rate of 25
miles an hour to keep with the
green lights and avoid abrupt
stopping on the slippery asphalt.
Eve was sick with worry. She
snuggled as closely as she dared
to Dick’s arm.
"Happy?” he asked.
"You know I am,” she told
him and managed to smile.
They drove to Mission Inn for
their wedding dinner. Eve was
glad that Dick had selected this
charming place. The evergreens
outside the imposing, tile-roofed
stucco building were mantled
with Christmas-like whiteness.
Inside, soft organ music came
from the chapel.
m * m
AT their table—a small one set
for two—the southern Cali
fornia influence for whicl* Mission
Inn had been named was even
more in evidence. A starred
ceiling of heavenly blue shut out
the winter night and storm. Wis
teria trailed along the eaves and
hung in purple clusters. Bril
liantly colored parakeets looked
saucily at the diners from their
ringed perches near the fountain.
Here was a lemon tree in a green
tub and there an orange tree or
an oleander. The air was fra
grant with exotic blossoms. On
a wrought iron balcony above sat
a senorita in yellow, wearing a
black lace mantilla and a red rose
in her hair. She was picking out
soft melodies on a golden harp.
| Dick had reserved the table and^
ordered the dinner. Excited andc?
worried as she was, Eve realized
that she was hungry. She remem
bered now that she had eaten
nothing since breakfast. She
sipped the mushroom soup, with
its unusual piquancy of flavor,
for which the inn was famous and
ate with relish the baked squab
which was another specialty of
the place. When the dessert ar
rived—frozen cream molded in
the form of mission bells—she
looked thoughtfully across the
table at Dick.
“Our wedding bells, Dick,” she
smiled wistfully.
“I like it this way," he said,
“Without all the fuss and excite
ment. Just we two in a world
by ourselves.”
j ojr'-’ves ... by ourselves,”
Eve murmured. Then she took
the plunge.
“Darling,” she began, "I’ve
been trying to tell you for an
hour. I—nothing haB ever been
so hard for me! I can scarcely
begin—but would you feel dread
fully if I had to leave you?"
(To Be Continned)
The World At
a Glance
By LESLIE EICHEL
Out west mining stocks will be
scarce henceforth. Many small
mines with big promoters are fold
ing up. The new federal securities
act is responsible. No longer may i
a promoter refer to a mine in glow
ing terms. He may state only the
fads. One westerner told me that
is discouraging.
« • •
NEW SECURITIES ACT
A Chicago investment banker go
ing west on a holiday is certain
the new federal securities act will
be rewritten when congress con
venes. “It gives fly-by-night invest
ment men a chance to clean up, but
legitimate investment bankers fear
to recommend a thing under the
rigid terms of the act,” says this
banker. It is admitted that the
field for government securities is
broadened. “But,” asks the invest
ment banker, “how will corpora
tions obtain needed capital?”
STATE CAPITALISM
The westerner, no less than the
easterner, is beginning to see that
the whole Roosevelt plan is a form
of state capitalism. The capitalist
structure is permitted to remain,
btu is dominated by the federal
government, which regulates in
take and outgo. There is no even
spread, as socialism contemplated,
nor is there the all in the hands
of the state for distribution among
the masses, as in communism.
A dining car steward discussed it
with me. He believes NIRA is just
to all except the small businessman.
He may suffer elimination in the
process, as occurred to a large de
gree in Russia. Yet, the dining car
steward argues further, if, through
this sacrifice, purchasing power is
returned to the masses, then suffi
cient volume 3 *ay accrue to the
small business man to give him a
profit margin.
• • •
STAY-AT-HOMES
Dining car stewards bewail the
lack of businessmen—except invest
ment bankers—on vacation this
year. “Something is turning up ev
ery’ -minute at the office these days,”
says a steward. “If an employer
leaves home he may return to find
a new Roosevelt order. It's hard on
waiters.”
Barbs
They’re going to tear down all
the fences on public lands. Sec.
Ickes announces. Probably use un
employed congressmen to rebuild
'em.
• • •
An optimist is a guy w’ho dares to
eat huckleberry pie while wearing an
ice-cream suit.
- • •
New Orleans seems to be a good
vacation city. Lots of people down
there apparently are spending their
time trying to catch the kingfish.
_Quotations j
The long-discussed revolution is
actually under way in the United
States.
—Donald Richberg, NRA general
counsel.
• • •
If you just have to go around
smacking cops when you are in
Europe, don’t monkey with the
civil guard in Spain.
Talbot Mundy, author.
♦ * *
It has often puzzled me why fear
of change and desire for perma
nence should be so strong in us.
All our experience proclaims their
futility.
—Miss O. A. R. M. Wylie. British
novelist.
• • •
There are no great men and wom
en on the stage.
—Harrison Grey Fiske, theatrical
producer.
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