The Hardin tribune-herald. [volume], August 31, 1934, Page PAGE ELEVEN, Image 11

About The Hardin tribune-herald. [volume] (Hardin, Mont.) 1925-1973

Image provided by: Montana Historical Society; Helena, MT

                
Friday, August 31, 1934-
LAST MINUTE ODDS By Matt Taylor
FnbUthed by Special Arrangement With The
Chisato Tribune-New Tort Newt Syndicate, mo.
Copyright: 1934: By MATT TAYLOR
IN TWO PARTS—PART ONE
AT THE WEDDING EVERT
ONE SAID JEAN’S AND JERRY’S
MARRIAGE DIDN’T HAVE A
CHANCE IN A HUNDRED; THEY
DIDN’T KNOW HOW FATE HAD
CHANGED THE ODDS JUST THE
WEEK REFORE.
It was inconceivable that their ro
mance would last and equally Incon
ceivable that it should not have start
ed. They were too much alike to pass
each other by. They were such a
matched pair—two impetuous, head
strong youngsters, completely spoiled,
life long strangers to any idea of sac
rifice, marked and set apart by the gods
to play the game recklessly and event
ually destroy each other.
People said and thought these things
with absolute conviction when it first
started. They said the wedding was a
piece of splendid pageantry, well staged
and lovely to watch. But they had a
feeling that Disaster sat up in the
■choir loft, smiling to himself as the
organ breathed its most tender notes
and the soprano sang of undying love.
The marriage had one chance in a
hundred. There wasn’t a doubt of It.
But no one knew how the odds changed
just before the wedding, or the reason.
His mother began the spoiling of Ger
ald Prentice, and his everlasting good
luck finished off the job. There was
excuse enough for his mother, for he
was her youngest and he arrived after
a lapse of ten years. She was helpless
before his cherubic charms, and her
vassalage lasted until her death sixteen
years later.
A kindly fate gave him rare good
looks—not merely classic perfection of
of features, but genuine distinction of
build and bearing. There was added
good health, a tolerably good mind, and
such an agreeable personality that he
made and held friendships readily. His
instincts, fortunately, kept him free of
snobbery.
The family was on the way up when
he appeared. His brother Harry had
been bom in an ugly box of a house
set in the sandlots across the tracks.
Jerry romped through babyhood on the
shady lawns surrounding the new home
in Rosewood. Harry was a local high
school boy, Jerry enjoyed St. Elbert’s
and Princeton. The war, to Jerry, was
a game you played with other ten
year-olds between clipped hedges in
Rosewood. It was a glorious game, and
he was unable to understand why Harry
was so grimly determined to be out of
his uniform the day of his discharge.
There were three jobs Jerry might
have had in the halcyon days of 1928.
He settled on one with a conservative
brokerage house. Perhaps he had in
mind when he made the connections
he did in school and college. But more
likely it happened, as things always
happened to Jerry, exactly right. He
made money and spent it. In 1932 he
was as broke as the next one, but his
money had brought him some good
times, and not merely daily headaches
after the market's close. Then, still the
favored one, he went to live with his
Aunt Margaret Baily. Her son’s death
had left her alone, and she took Jerry
—the only nephew unattached—under
her wing. He was living here when he
met Jean Vance.
Aunt Margaret was his mother’s old
est sister. She could easily have been
his grandmother. Jerry had known
her as a proud, stalwart soul —the auto
crat of the family, a leader of the pre
ceding generation.
But her vigor and her strength left
her when Mervin Baily died. She had
leaned on her son during his life. She
would have crumbled without the mem
ory of him afterward. She was no
longer proud. She mellowed the way
old people should. Jerry found her a
pathetic figure of collapsed grandeur,
lonely and eager for some one to listen
while she recited the praises of the in
credible scapegrace who had been her
eon.
Jerry knew of Mervin Bally’s ques
tionable career. He knew of the
scandals that hovered like unwhole
some spirits whenever his name was
mentioned. It was all family history.
For instance, there was the divorce that
followed the visit of a Mrs. Chance to
Rosewood one summer. Yet Jerry
would nod agreement when Aunt Mar
garet said, as she did so often, “He
was a wonderful son, Jerry. He never
did a mean or dishonest thing in his
life.”
“I was too young to know him well,”
Jerry would answer. “He must have
been mighty fine, all right."
It wasn’t that he was trying to hang
on to this home with Aunt Margaret,
or the membership in the country club
which she. kept up for him, or the use
of Mervin’s roadster, which she never
sold. There was a reasonable amount
of honesty in Jerry. He would have
called Mervin Baily mighty fine to no
one except Mervin’s mother. For it was
apparent that Aunt Margaret was not
simply pretending. Miraculously, she
believed every word she said. It was
funny to hear her—yet not so funny
as it was ironic. The thought of it
16 Counties Join in
State Land Survey
Sixteen counties have submitted pre
liminary reports for a state land util
ization survey that is to be submitted
to the national planning board by Sept.
15, L. A. Campbell, executive secretary
of Montanans, Inc., said a few days
ago.
Similar surveys will be prepared in
other western states and upon the data
in them, Campbell said, President Ro
osevelt is expected to base a message
to the next congress on land utilization
and readjustment.
During recent alterations to a plant
at Burlington, N. workmen found
a live bullfrog encased in the cement
foundation, which had been laid in
1013. |
made Jerry hot with resentment. It
disturbed his pleasant sense of well
being. He had had so little experience
in his easy young life, with things as
they ought not to be. But he continued
to live in the shrine of this bogus saint
and render lip service. He was fond
of Aunt Margaret, and this was the
least he could do.
When he met Jean Vance people who
knew them both said his luck had
changed. They said she would be poi
son to Jerry Prentice. For if there was
another youngster in all Westchester
as self-willed as himself, and as de
manding, it was this slender, fair
skinned child, who looked at the world
with narroiwed, shrewdly selfish eyes.
She was utterly beautiful in an eager,
exultant way. People felt strongly about
her, for or against. It was impossible
to regard her frankly inquisitive at
titude with unmoved serenity. She was
aware of her destiny—which was to be
no series of commonplace romances
with the marriage service read over one
of them —and she was set to find it. She
was not to be in and out of love,
never quite sure of herself one way or
the other. She was not to argue her
self into marriage because she had be
come engaged and it was all a gamble
anyway. It was inevitable, that she
should fall in love as she did —blindly
and completely, without thinking about
it at all. It was inevitable that the man
should be such a golden youth as Jerry
Prentice.
They met one evening at a club
dance. She was home from a school in
Connecticut—to send her through that
final year had been her father’s last
generous gesture. He could not now
bring her out properly as he had plan
ned. Even his club membership had
gone overboard. Jean was on her own,
and her family was hoping for the best.
And before they had the solace of a
single, substantial hope, she met Jerry
Prentice, who had his job and his Aunt
Margaret, but not a penny to his name.
No one Introduced them. She had
walked out on the dancing, and her
eyes were boldly scanning the porch.
Whispering stopped as she strolled
by, slender and lithe in a straight-lined
gown that was as brilliant as the glow
of fresh embers. Whispering started
again as she passed. Jean neither thrill
ed to the interest, nor ignored it. She
was barely nineteen, and this was her
first dance since she’d been home from
school. But she was taking the club's
excitement for granted.
Jerry was lounging near the steps,
talking to another man and smoking.
He saw her coming—a lone figure care
lessly searching—and straightened up.
The other man’s voice trailed off. Per
haps he sensed what was going to hap
pen. He watched Jean. He watched
Jerry move toward her. They were a
splendid pair there under the amber
lights.
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THE HARDIE TRIBUNE-HERALD
Jerry looked into her eyes. Hiey
were half-closed, studying him. There
was a mature, knowing tilt to her head.
Her Ups parted as she answered his
gaze, as though she had something to
say and was waiting.
“Lady Macbeth, I beUeve?” Jerry be
gan.
The girl let her eyes open. “The
same,” she smiled. “On the way to the
dry cleaners.”
He knew after the first moment that
there wasn’t a flaw. Her hair had an
auburn tint. She could have worn it
a flat brown and been as lovely. Her
gown was one in a roomful, but the
magic of her form would have brought
a made-over rag to life. She was the
most perfect thing the club had seen
that year.
“Are we going to dance?” he asked
suddenly.
Her head went further to one side.
“Do we want to?”
“No,” he answered, thoughtfully, “I
guess not. I can’t take down phone
numbers dancing. And I've got to find
out aU about you.”
“ThatTl take time. Should we park
some place?”
“My car’s in front. But that's a Ut
tle obvious.”
“Very. There are some benches near
the pool behind that high lilac hedge.”
“They’re damp,” he said. “They’re
always damp on spring evenings.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Do we
have to sit down?” she asked.
They walked slowly. A score of porch
couples watched them go, their sil
houettes blending with the shadows as
they descended the hill to the shrub
bery from that moment. People be
gan to say it never could last, though it
was an exciting thing to watch.
He kissed her not as he would another
girl. He struck none of the several
effective poses in his repertoire. The
environment happened to be right, but
it would have been the same without
the lilacs, without the lush night air.
He kissed her with one preliminary re
mark, after he had looked at her hard.
He said:
“I might as well know it—if I’m go
ing to be sunk!”
Jean, when she drew away, lowered
her face a moment. She looked up. Her
smile was casual, but her eyes were
misty. “Well?” she asked. “What
about it?”
He frowned at her. “You know
damn well what about it!” he said.
She looked down at the ground again.
"I guess I do at that," she murmured.
The next morning at Sunday break
fast Jerry ignored the headlines which
were spread out in front of him. He
called to Aunt Margaret who was read
ing in her place in the sunroom. “I
met a girl last night,” he said.
The way he said it made her take
off her reading glasses and lay them
deliberately aside. “What girl, Jerry?”
she asked anxiously. “Who is she?” i
“Name of Jean Vance. She’s lovely.”!
“Vance?” Aunt Margaret nodded
thoughtfully. “The Vances lost most of
their money this year, Jerry.”
“That right?” Jerry murmured.
“She must be the youngest,” Aunt
Margaret mused. “The others were all
married. Mervin was Interested in the
second one for awhile. He told me
about it. She was unfair to him. Peo
ple didn't understand Mervin. He was
Jerry nodded without hearing. “Aunt
Margaret," he said slowly, “this girl Is
lovely."
“From what I've happened to hear
she’s a badly spoiled child. Like you,
Jerry.”
He chuckled. "Perhaps she is. I
don’t know much about her.”
Aunt Margaret was uncertain. “The
way you spoke,” she said, “I thought it
was important.”
“I don’t know much about her,” he
said again, "but she’s the most beauti
ful thing I’ve ever seen. That makes
it important all right.”
The old lady thought a moment.
Then she sighed. “I know better than
try to talk to you. If it has to be, IH
make some arrangements. Her father
can’t give her a cent. I'll try to do what
I can. It’s the only chance.”
“You’re pretty swell, Aunt Margaret,”
Jerry said. His gratitude was real as
far as it went. But at the moment
what she said didn’t seem to matter.
He was thinking of Jean and hardly
listening.
The rumor went around- and they
were invited places together. They
brought charm to a party and besides,
people felt safer with these two paired
off. Jean, unattached, could have
wrought all sorts of havoc that first
summer in Rosewood.
The news of it reached even Harry
Prentice, who used the club only for
golf. He had Jerry come over one eve
ning to talk. His wife left the room
when Jerry arrived.
“Look here,” Harry started. “Is it
true? I don’t know her—never even saw
her, but ”
Jerry smiled. “If you’d seen her,
you’d know. Of course, it’s true."
His brother spread clouds of pipe
smoke. “But Mary knows her. Knows
a lot about her, too.” He looked at
Jerry hard. “Father’s petted darling,
isn’t she?”
“No,” Jerry corrected pleasantly.
“Mine.”
Harry frowned at him. “I hate to see
you head into trouble,” he said solemn
ly. “You two need a world apiece to
play with. You’ll crack up the first
time the budget starts to pinch.”
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Auto Parts Co. * 1
MOTORCYCLES
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M. N. A., August 37, 193* <3l
PHEASANTS LIBERATED
A total of 300 Chinese pheasants, both
roosters and hens, arrived at Lewis
town a few days ago from the state
game bird farm at Warm Springs and
by evening had been liberated along
a half dozen or more streams in that
area.
-
Heat of stars is measured by a device
weighing only one one-thousandth as
much as a drop of water.
PAGE ELEVEN
BUILDING ROAD NEAR LIBBY
Announcement recently that a road
crew was at work in the Silver Butte
district near Libby with heavy machin
ery equipment has caused some wonder
herabouts as to the crew’s objective.
Supervisor Webb of the Kootenai for
est states the crew was from the Cab
inet forest and built a connecting link
between a road built up toward the
summit from this side with a similar
road coming up from the Cabinet side.
—— ' ■' ' -
Pity swells the tide of love.-Young.
Glassesßepaired ßroken Glmmi.
We will repair them and retorn them
by mall promptly. Eyes Examined.
Dr.
Paradel
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