The Bozeman courier., January 07, 1927, Page PAGE FIFTEEN, Image 15

About The Bozeman courier. (Bozeman, Mont.) 1919-1954

Image provided by: Montana Historical Society; Helena, MT

                
Opheiaa Wants Telephones
A petition bearing a large number of
names, asking for the establishment of a
telephone exchange at Opheim has been
forwarded to the Mountain States Tele
phone company. The project has been
worked upon for the last six months, but
not until now had the required number
of signatures been secured. It is expected,
if the company acts favorably, that work
will start in the early spring. Many farm
ers have expressed approval over the move
of the town, in trying to secure an ex
change, and are in favor of building
country lines.
-$■
Buffalo Meat Sent East
Sixteen buffalo belonging to W. S. Hoi
llngswortb were butchered recently at the
C. C. Beach slaughtering pens, south of
Ronan, and the meat was shipped to
eastern cities, where it was placed on the
market for the Christmas trade as a
western dellcac.y The animals were part
of the Allard herd that formed the nucleus
of the herd now ranging on the national
bison reserve near Ravalli. Mr. Hollings
worth has a good sized herd started and
will realize a neat little sum from those
slaughtered, as the hides alone have a
market value of about $100 each.
■<$>
Fish Hatchery at Miles ICty
Nearly a quarter section of land provid
ing a water surface covering 78 acres is in
volved in the construction of one of the
largest fish culture ponds in the United
States that will be undertaken in Miles City
with the opening of the spring season. The
pond will be located on the United States
range livestock experiment station, former
ly Fort Keogh, according to an arrange
ment reached between state
officials, says A. A. Simpson of this city,
secretary of the Custer Rod and Gun club.
The proposed pond will be stocked with
bass, crapple, pike, perch and other warm
water fish, to supply the streams of Mon
tana and adjacent states with young fry.
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M. N. A.—WK.—1-8-27
. - -
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Unkissed and Sober
By Margaret C. Banning
S
J
(Published by special arrangement with
the Chicago Tribune Syndicate).
IN TWO PART— PAKT TWO
THE STORY 80 FAR
Carolyn is a ball-room fill-in. She,
with other girls, were invited to fill la
at Mrs. Myrr's ball. Carolyn is a pecul
iar girl. She is winsome but conserva
tive in her habits. At the ball, she
has not been much in demand as a part
ner. Jim Alderdyce has worned fever
ishly to fill the program for her, but
somehow, plans failed. Jule Dalvs, an
other girl, was dancing with Lauren Ben
nett, and she seemed to have more than
a drink or two. When Jule passed Caro
lyn she "smartly" said: "Still unkissed..
and shore, Carrie?" Carolyn left the ball
room filled with hatred and with a de
termination never again to attend such
a function.
And now the story—
In bed, with the windows full open and
the breeze criss-crossing her room, she
began to think of her work tomorrow. But
there interposed a tune, a haunting tune,
accented here, light there, elided, repetitive,
a tune like the click of slippers on waxed
floors, music that set her resentful mind
dancing again. Melody taunting her and
refusing to let her go. Carolyn rolled over
and put her ears in the pillows and the
music played on. reminiscent, teasing. She
could see herself as she wanted to be,
smoothly dancing, happy, musical, and as
she was*, tossed up at the side of the ball
room, the rubbish out of the sea of gayety.
She saw' Lorrie Bennett, still laughing at
Jule's remark, her uncanny remark which
sized up Carolyn's situation so accurately.
To be mocked at for being decent, thought
Carolyn fiercely, for not being drunk, for
not being a messy little brute. The music
in her brain played on. telling her she was
missing something, and her desire listened
in spite of itself and was thwarted.
Still, morning came after a while, a fine
clear morning with all its wits about it.
The morning was as definitely on Carolyn's
side as the night had been against her, and
she felt reinforced. Some part of her
sensibilities was aching as if it were black
and blue from a mental bruise, but she
showed no outward sign as she appeared
at the breakfast table where Mrs. Han
cock was gently prying about the dance,
and had to be parried for her own sake.
Carolyn explained in detail about the
reason why she had left the Allardyces
S laying bridge, about the headache she
ad developed in a hot ballroom after
excessive dancing, and Mrs. Hancock be
wailed the fact that Carolyn had to get
up early after going to bed with a head
ache. She was still unreconciled to Caro
lyn's job, though it did ease off the ex
pense of buying her clothes and seemed to
make Carolyn happy. Mrs. Hancock felt
that jobs went off a tangent from the
real issue which was marriage.
At Bennett & Hayes' great mail order
establishment. Carolyn had a desk in the
little office opening off the restroom for
girls. The employment manager had the
other desk. Carolyn's job was not the em
ployment of girls, but w'orklng among them
after they were employed, watching their
development or lack of it, listening to their
troubles, improving the morale of the
force, instituting some of the girls' clubs
which make a scattered group into a co
herent one, helping to plan vacations, and
choose clothes. The Job and Carolyn were
alike young, but with four hundred girls
employed Miss Jones had decided to "set
a girl to catch a girl" and picked Carolyn,
fresh from her courses in social service, to
handle the personnel work. So all day
long Carolyn worked with girls who
thought her a marvel of good looks and
good clothes, who liked her and trusted
her for the most part.
The results were beginning to show. Mr.
Bennett admitted that the general service
of the girls was better; that the appear
ance of the great office where all day girls
sorted letters and filed them and the great
workrooms where they tagged merchan
dise were improved. Carolyn had managed
to infuse a little of her respect for work
into the girls who had to work. Some of
them she held because they saw something
of her point of view and many of them
she held because she and her clothes were
pretty and fashionable, and they liked
to look at her, and to be associated with
her.
The general offices of Bennett & Hayes
were on the same floor as the restroom.
In one of them young Lauren Bennett was
being trained into the business. Carolyn
had been honest when she told Rose Harris
that she hardly ever came in contact with
him. This morning she hoped she would
never see him again except for just long
enough to treat him to a glance of con
tempt as she would bow.
She met him just as she was getting out
of the elevator.
he said.
"Good morning,
you disappear to last night?"
*.
Where did
"I went home, Mr. Bennett," she said
shortly, and passed by him and his cor
diality. Lorrie stood looking at her back
speculatively ; then went his own way.
The morning passed quietly enough until
it was near noon. Carolyn was passing
through the filing room when she saw
two girls standing together near a case
talking and apparently not talking about
business. She went toward them, and as
she did so the arm of one girl shot out
and hit 'he other a furious blow across
the face. The girl who was hit staggered
backward aud fell against a desk with a
scream and pandemonium broke loose for
a few minutes. Carolyn had seen it all, the
sudden blow, the vicious anger of the
one who attacked. She sent the girl who
was hurt to wash her face and lie down,
ordering her to stop her sobbing and con
trol her profanity. The other girls went
reluctantly back to their work, and
Carolyn took the culprit to her office.
She was amazed. Hilda bad always been
a shy girl, a rather nice looking, quiet
girl. This outbreak was utterly unfor
seen, and the expression Hilda wore of
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fear mixed with sullen gratification puz
zled Carolyn. . ,
"What was the trouble, Hilda?
she
■
Hilda shrugged. "I hate that silly fool,
she said, and added more words to tne
same effect.
Don't talk like that.
Fire me, if you like," said Hilda. I m
glad I landed her one," again reinforcing
that statement.
"But why?"
Hilda shook her head dtambly.
"Please tell me," said Carolyn, Look
here, Hilda; I know you wouldn't hit a
girl without some reason. What had she
done?"
Clear hatred shot from Hilda s eyes.
"Made fun of me."
"How?"
"She thinks she's a gay one,
Hilda. "I know how she does it. She gets
the boys after her and then makes fun
of me. I wouldn't do like she does."
"When did she make fun of you?
"Sitting by the wall at a dance, last
night. Did she think I was going to stand
for that? She gets the man I was with—
and then makes fun of me. 1 know how
she gets them," she seethed blackly.
Carolyn looked queerly at her charge.
"You go back to work, Hilda," she said
finally. "You mustn't let this happen
again—ever."
Hilda burst into tears.
"1 didn't mean to hit her, but I was
kind of sore and sick, Miss Hancock, and
my hand just flew out. I never did a
thing like that before. It was Just last
Ui "You'll never do a thing like that again.
You got it out of your system," finished
Carolyn. "I'll talk to Bella."
She looked up in dismissal, and saw
Lauren Bennett in the doorway, obviously
waiting to catch her attention. As Hilda
went out he strolled over to Carolyn s
desk.
■
said
I
"You do have problems in here, don't
. j"
"Ö, that was no problem," said Carolyn,
coolly. "That was simple justice. You see.
one of the girls downstairs made fun of
Hilda because she was a wall flower—un
kissed and sober, you know—and Hilda
gave her a good slap in the face. It didn t
do either of them any harm. Anything I
can do for you, Mr. Bennett?"
Lauren Bennett looked down at the clear,
business-like face of the girl behind the
desk. She had a beautiful skin and an
adorable nose, he thought.
"Anything I can do for you?" repeated
Carolyn.
"No—I was passing and thought you
might be going out to lunch
"I always eat downstairs with the girls.
Lauren made an awkward retreat.
What Carolyn said to Bella remained a
secret, but Bella was back at work that
afternoon with a still reddened cheek and
sullen face, but a controlled tongue. Miss
Jones noted the Incident as an instance
of the skill of Carolyn's work among girls.
She could manage them prefectly, and
understood them so well.
Lauren ate at the Cascade restaurant
with the advertising manager, David Lan
sing. Lauren was qualifying for assistant
sales manager as fast as possible, and
worked closely with Lansing, who was
lean, energetic little man of thirty-five
who lived by himself and read extensively
and molded little figures out of clay for
his amusement while all day he devised
schemes to attract the sated public eye.
Carolyn had not passed by unnoticed as
far as Lansing was concerned. They were
you?
friends already and Lansing, as he half
admitted to Lauren, was trying to qualify
for a higher grade of feeling.
"She's a wonderful girl," said Lansing.
"Isn't she?" Lauren agreed enthusias
tically, without stopping to analyze the
length of time he had thought so. He
didn't know whether it had begun last
night at the dance when he had contrasted
her with half drunk little Jule Davies, or
this morning when she had been so curt
with him. Clearly she was sore about that
dance business last night. It was a pretty
raw remark Jule had made, but Carolyn
hadn't looked like the sort of girl who
minded watching a lot of fools dancing.
She loked superior. Personally Lauren
never danced with the girls he thought
the most of. Of course not. He danced with
the good dancers, the ones whom every
other man danced with. It was the thing
to do—or at least so he had thought. But
this morning, with last night's dance very
stale, he wondered, being a rather astute
youth, if it was hard on some of these
girls who didn't shine at' dances. Certainly
he should have danced with Carolyn last
night*. He had tried to find her after that
ladies' choice dance, but she had gone
home and now he was permanently queered
with her.
The more Lansing talked about her, the
more Lauren felt he had played himself
a shabby trick. For though he was astute,
he was not clever enough to recognize the
signs of jealousy in himself or the fact
that it was competion which was making
him feel so interested in Carolyn. He
measured himself up against Lansing. He
didn't have Lansing's brains, he admitted.
Of course, he wasn't bad to look at and
he could take care of a girl and he knew
he was decent—he stopped at that thought.
It wasn't possible that he was taking
Carolyn as seriously as all that.
"There aren't many girls like Miss Han
cock," Lansing was saying, drawing a little
sketch of Carolyn's head on the back of
the menu.
That afternoon Lauren, coming out of
his uncle's office, saw Lansing bending
over Carolyn's desk, and reflected that that
fellow ought to attend to his work at that
hour in thé day. Later, possibly because he
was hanging around the entrance, he saw
Carolyn and Lansing come out together
and go off In Lansing's old roadster.
Neither of them seemed to notice him.
He looked for Carolyn at parties after
that for the next month, usually going
home when he found she wasn't there. Also
he came into her office on every possible
pretext and developed a great Interest in
personnel work. Carolyn was not always
curt. He found she had a funny little
chuckling laugh and a friendly glance that
could warm any one. Every one liked her,
and every one was always trying to get
her attention.
"Why do you never go to parties any
more?" asked Lauren one day.
Carolyn looked away. The sore spot was
still there, and it was stupid of Lauren
to press it.
"Why should 1?
"To give some of the rest of us a good
time."
She laughed Ironically, not her comfort
able chuckling laugh, and Lauren felt the
barrier go up.
"I stay on my own ground now," she
said, "I know when I'm safe.
Come with me to the dinner dance next
• *
4*
week.
No," said Carolyn, "I won't. Look here,
Mr. Bennet, you're on the wrong track.
You like me here because there's nothing
else to like. It's the kind of background
that sets me off. But at a party, in ordi
nary society, with a lot of attractive girls,
I'm jnst nothing at all. I dwindle out. No
body would be In the least interested
me. Certainly you wouldn't be. I don't In
tend to get off the reservation again.
"Well, then, how about my staying
the reservation?"
"I wouldn't trust you," said Carolyn
lightly. "Some good looking person might
go by on the other side of the boundary
line with a crowd after her, and you'd
gone."
It was casnal, bat it pat him off. Pnt him
off and drove him on. Lauren was getting
to the point when he could think of not
mach else but Carolyn. He stood behind
in the elevator and watched the smooth
back of her neck above Its pretty, low
collar and felt as he had never felt before—
not flirtations, bvt as if he would knock,
any one down who so much as accidentally
touched that bare white skin. He had
desire to have any competitors or be
of a crowd with Carolyn. He found
place of business fascinating because
sheltered Carolyn and there were always
sadden chances of encounters. He was filled
with humility as he compared himself with
Lansing and then with sudden enmity.
tried to do good work and found himself
dissatisfied with results. It was a bewil
dering time, and Carolyn seemed oblivions
to It all. She didn't believe him when
"
tried to give her compliments. She put
him off when he tried to show his devotion.
Outside the business house she didn't see
him at all, and he suspected from the
happy look on Lansing's face and her un
remitting friendliness toward him that be
saw her in the evenings. There were times
when he tried to be generous enough to
feel that it was all right for her to marry
Lansing, but he couldn't keep up the
feeling.
David Lansing did see Carolyn in the
evenings, fluttering Mrs. Hancock quite
a little, for even if he didn't seem good
enough for Carolyn, he was marriage as
opposed to working. His whole attitude
spoke of it to Carolyn's mother, and
Lansing himself talked of it with Carolyn.
"I don't know," said Carolyn. "I don't
want to marry you, David, but I would
hate to let you go altogether."
"Let's leave it at that now," suggested
David, but he didn't sound hopeful.
Carolyn's tone had been too completely
friendly, too unstirred. They were sitting
on the open porch of her home. Mrs. Allar
dyce's car stopped before the curb, and
she got out, accompanied by the faithful
Ned.
"Carrie, dear." she said when the intro
ductions were over, "I've come to have you
help me with a party. Ned and I were say
ing the other day that you work too hard.
Besides, I owe a lot of people for things.
I'm going to give a dancing party at our
house on the eighteenth and it's to be for
you."
"Good heavens. Grace," protested Caro
lyn. But Grace Allardyce overrode her with
generous insistence,
"You can ask whom you please among
the younger set. Ask them all. Three hun
dred people can dance .in the ballroom
Have any kind of party you like. It will
be my birthday present. Of course, we'll
want you, too, Mr. Lansing."
Carolyn smiled at Dave, and gave In
against (Trace's steam roller generosity.
"All right, Dave," she said, "let us plan
it. Let's have a masked ball—a costume
party."
"What a wonderful idea! There's not
been one this year!" Cousin Grace giggled
with delight.
The invitations went out, and the cos
tumers were ransacked; men who had
vowed that they would not go found them
selves scurrying off to find costumes and
becomming intensely critical of the robes
piqked out for them by their wives. Orders
were filled from Netv York houses, dress
makers worked on refurnishing old cos
tumes or making new ones. Mrs. Allardyce
was in the seventh heaven. She commanded
the scene in her Irish peasant costume, and
Ned Allardyce as old King Cole had a glor
ious chance to be himself.
By eleven o'clock the floor was crowded
The masks were still kept on, but most
identities were known. Groups which had
dined together knew each other and ex
changed confidences with the guests from
other dinners. White wigs, shocks of red
hair, peaked caps, derby hats, fairies'
crowns, gypsy turbans, Egyptian bands,
the heads were as varied as the feet and
less varied than the sudden startling legs,
On one side of the ballroom was a tall.
thin, uncomfortable looking sheik who
everybody knew was Lauren Bennett. He
had come alone and scanned the costumes
of the girls and women, placing his friends
one by one. The Persian woman was Rose
Harris. The Gainsborough lady was Mrs.
Myrr. The gypsy clearly was Kathie Evans.
The lovely French doll surrounded by all
the men and acting somewhat riotously
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Vital meaning of "Baking-test
, The quality of a brand of flour may be ex
cellent It may always be the same chemi
cally. And yet—it may act differently in your
oven almost every time you bake.
That is the insidious cause of so many
mysterious baking failures
Therefore—a miller has just one way of
being sure that all his flour will act the same way
in your oven. By baking with it first himself !
That is the Bex Flour "Baking-test" It
makes your baking ten times easier. .
Each day the Roc Flour Kitchen bakes with
samples from each batch of Rex Flour milled
die day before. Each sample must bake die
same perfect way as all die others before a
batch is allowed to go out This means each
sack will always bake the same for you.
I-!'
> >
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k 'ft
iß*'
king
It
he
At tke Rex kitchen* ax . <
create new recipes. Some ei • ÄK'it
He*—tome are aew and ongma .. at* wr
. e.'O";
cl
• 0,1 i .'4 ••
k .-«A
Rex Cake, Butterscotch Br sad, x ea Ring, C oco
late Sticks, Hawaiiaa Pie, Ice Box Cookies. These
just a few of them. They are free, of course. If
mite today, we will rend them immediately.
are
I
I
Miss JsAtnBTTx Beyer,
Boom Servies Department
Hoy*l Millina Company, Dept.
Great Falla,
yoor free book of Bak- j
!
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Address.
f
I
City.
State.
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X.F.D.
I
REX F LO UR—Baking-tested
MILLED BY ROYAL MILLING COM PANY, GREAT PALLS, MONTANA
even according to the standards of France,
was, of course, Jnle Davies. The one in
colonial dress sitting by the wall—Lauren's
heart gave a leap. Of course, It was Caro
lyn—her pose, her figure, just what she
would wear. The sheik hotfooted it for the
colonial dame, and accused her of her
identity. She seemed to laugh, but would
not talk. They danced, and Lauren ad
mitted that the colonial lady did not dance
very well. Probably that was why she was
sitting by the wall. That accounted for her
being a wallflower After they were mar
ried. he would teach her to dance better.
He felt confident and happy with his arm
around the slim waist, his head next to
the beautifully curled white wig and heavi
ly powdered face. Dear Carolyn!
"1 knew you in a min ate," he told her.
I could place every woman in the room.
Do talk to me."
She shook her head.
• •
"Well, I'm hanging around until you
have to unmask."
He kept his word. For .six dances he
stayed by her through interminable en
cores. Sometimes they danced and some
times they sat. No one cut ?n. Once Lauren
grew a little Irritated and tried to pull
the mask from her face. Once he lured her
into the conservatory and tried to get her
to unmask. But she only shook her head
with that slow, sweet gesture which was
Carolyn's own. So at last he simply sat
beside her, and got as near as he could
to the long lace gloves that covered her
fingers.
Through the open door he could see the
crowd swirling, and the music went to bis
head a little. He saw the crowd pulling at
the tulle bows on Jule Davies' shoulders.
Carolyn was very silent.
"March past the judges and unmask,"
Prizes for the
shouted Ned Allardyce.
best couple, for the best man's costume and
the best lady'» costume."
• Lauren offered his arm to Carolyn. He
wished for a minute that Carolyn had worn
something a little more original, something
that would have given her a chance to
compete for the prize. They marched to
ward the ballroom, and then suddenly she
loosened her hand and slipped away up
the staircase. Lauren started after her—
but thought better of his pursuit and sat
down on he steps. She probably bated to
march by the judges. She was so shy.
Suddenly the music of the march stopped.
It had been going on a long while.
Ned Allardyce was shouting.
"The prize for the best costume goes,
without prejudice or foreknowledge, to the
guest of honor, Miss Marolyn Hancock.
The prize for the best man-''
The sheik got up quickly and went to
the ballroom door. Carolyn to get the prize
in such a commonplace costume. Then he
saw Carolyn, her tulle skirts spread out
around her, her eyes shining, her figure in
a pose of artificial delight and surprise.
Carolyn—the French doll!
Every one was clapping and shouting.
The other prizes went somewhere. The
sheik did not hear. He was trying to get
close to Carolyn, and she was turning
her shoulder whenever he came near her.
When the music started she was off, danc
ing like a piece of animated tulle.
The shiek cut in.
"Do you know I've been spending the
whole evening with some ancient woman
in colonial costume pouring out my soul
about you?" he demanded.
"Not very flattering to me, was it? Did
yon think 1 couldn't dance better than
that?"
"Who was that person?"
"O, that," said Carolyn, "that colonial
lady, yon mean? That was David Lansing.
Wasn't he clever?"
The sheik felt the red color try to get
through his brown paint.
"I hope you realize I've made a terrible
fool of myself," he said.
"O, David won't mind. He's a darling.
He understands things."
"Understands you, 1 suppose," glowered
i the sheik. "Look here, Carolyn, I can't
bear it. Here comes that damned colonial
Children's Golds '
. ■
I
rr*rsl(kt without
"doting* by robbing
Vick» mr throat and
*
•hoot at bedtii
VICKS
w VapoRu*
.toylug to cut in. Won't you marry
me?"
He pulled her toward the conservatory
door, away from the onrush of the colonial
lady.
Come out here again," he urged.
"1 haven't been out there at all yet."
"Well, I thought it was you. You know
what I mean. It's all the same—or rather
it isn't, ' he labored confusedly.
She was tolerant.
"You were decent to the poor stick you
thought was me," she admitted.
"1 was happy," Lorrie said gravely, "Just
imagining it was
Carolyn-"
"I see olts of things. I saw before why
Hilda slapped Bella's face. Now I knew
how Hilda felt when she told me she was
going to marry her young man."
"You mean you're going to marry me?"
The Franch doll shook her skirts out
coquettishly, and fell into character.
"Maybe," she laughed; "I think so, now
I am sure of myself and not afraid of yoa
as a social lion. Of you, or Jule Davies, or
any one. It's so good to dance all night
and have every one cutting in and win a
prize and not have people call you a wall
flower or a stick or unkissed and sober—"
"They can call you sober if they like,*
suggested the shlek, "but that's all!"
(Coypright: 1925: By Margaret Cnlkin
Banning.)
you. So you see.
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