The Bluffton news. [volume], August 31, 1939, Image 7

About The Bluffton news. [volume] (Bluffton, Ohio) 1875-current

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THURSDAY, AUG. 31, 19391
THE DIM
LANTERN
DI
By Temple
BAILEY
PBNN PUBLISHING CCk
WWU SBRVICB
THE STORY
CHAPTER I—Young. pretty Jane Barnes,
who lived with her brother. Baldwin, in
Sherwood Park, near Washington, was not
particularly impressed when she read that
rich, attractive Edith Towne had been left
at the altar by Delafield Simms, wealthy
New Yorker. However, she still mused
over it when she met Evans Follette, a
young neighbor, whom the war had left
completely discouraged and despondent.
Evans had always loved Jane.
CHAPTER II—That morning Baldwin
Barnes, on his way to work in Washing
ton, offered assistance to a tall, lovely
girl in distress. Later he found a bag she
had left in the car, containing a diamond
ring on which was inscribed “Del to
Edith—Forever." He knew then that his
passenger had been Edith Towne. Al
ready he was half way in love with her.
That night he discussed the matter with
Jane, and they called her uncle, worldly,
sophisticated Frederick Towne. He visited
them at their home, delighted with Jane’s
simplicity. He told them Edith’s story,
and they filled in the missing lines.
CHAPTER IIT—Because her uncle de
sired it, Edith Towne had accepted Dela
field Simms, whom she liked but did not
love. That did not prevent her from be
coming furious when he failed to show
up for the wedding. She disappeared im
mediately after the wedding was to have
taken place. Hearing the story. Baldy and
Jane sympathized with Edith, not with her
uncle. The next day Jane received a basket
•f fruit from Towne, asking if he might
call again.
CHAPTER IV—Mrs. Follette, widowed
mother of Evans, was a woman of in
domitable courage. Impoverished, she nev
ertheless managed to keep Evans and
herself in comparative comfort by running
a dairy farm. Evans, mentally depressed
and disillusioned, had little self reliance
and looked to his mother and Jane for
guidance. After returning from the Fol
lette’s next day. Baldy is called to the
phone by Edith Towne, in answer to an ad.
She asked him to bring her pocketbook.
She
Is
staying with an old employee at a
hotel some miles away.
CHAPTER V—-Jane calls on Frederick
Towne in his elaborate office. After she
leaves to go shopping, he gives Lucy, his
stenographer, a letter to Delafield Simms,
in which he severely criticizes him. Un
known to him, Lucy and Simms are in
love with each other. Jane returns, and he
takes her home in his limousine. She in
troduces him to Evans, who, knowing that
be is far from his former companionable
self. Is jealous of Towne.
CHAPTER VI—Baldy goes to meet Edith
Towne at her hiding place. He convinces
her that she should return home and face
her friends. She is interested in Baldy,
especially when he tells her of his attempts
to paint. Later they eat in a restaurant,
where Edith sees several friends. She
knows they will see to it that the news is
spread.
CHAPTER VII—When Towne asks Jane
to dine with him Evans realizes that he
must do something to rehabilitate himself.
He goes to consult Dr. Hallam, the
family physician, who advises him to sell
some of the rare books in the Follette li
brary and start in his law office where he
had left off after the war. Evans agrees,
with his mother’s consent, to follow in
structions. He opens an office in Washing
ton, where he had practiced law before
the war.
CHAPTER VIII—While at Towne's home
for dinner Jane meets Adelaide Laramore,
an old love of Towne’s. She is there, with
friends, to witness the return of Edith.
The next day Jane invites Edith, her uncle
and the Follettes for tea. Baldy shows them
the picture of Jane he has painted. Towne
is disgruntled when Baldy refuses to sell
it to him, preferring to enter it in a con
test. That afternoon Towne asks Jane to
marry him. She does not answer, and
Towne does not press her for an immedi
ate reply
CHAPTER IX—A telegram comes to Jane
and Baldy from Judy, their married sister
living in Chicago. She is ill and wants
Jane to come and take care of her two
children. She leaves immediately and
Towne sees her off. She arrives in Chicago
shortly, and takes over the household du
ties. Meanwhile Evans is forcing himself
to enjoy the things he used to like, though
he misses Jane a great deal
CHAPTER X—At a Christmas eve par
ty at Towne’s, Edith intimates that she
loves Baldy. A few days later Lucy Logan,
Frederick’s secretary, calls on Edith. She
explains to Edith tnat she and Delafield
Simms plan to be married. Edith, surprised
at the girl’s frankness, is friendly. She
advises Lucy to capitalize on her husband’s
hobbies and interest him in farming.
CHAPTER XI—Baldy hears from Jane,
who tells him Judy's illness is such that
she must remain in Chicago. Judy and her
husband have no money, and are consid
erably worried. Towne goes to Chicago to
see Jane, who has been convinced by
Judy’s husband that the only way Judy's
life can be saved is through Jane's mar
riage to Towne, who could hire a spe
cialist. She agrees to marry him.
CHAPTER XII—Evans is completely
broken when he hears of Jane’s plans. He
plans on committing suicide, only to be
saved by overhearing the conversation of
two small boys. He feels certain that Jane
is marrying Towne only to save her sister
and her sister’s family. Baldy agrees with
him. They are at a loss, however, to pre
vent her from going through with what she
considers her part of a bargain, even
though the thought of it is distasteful to her.
CHAPTER XHI—Adelaide Laramore and
Towne, who nas returned home, go for a
ride. He tells her that he is going to marry
Jane Barnes She says nothing, but is
evidently planning. In the meantime Baldy
and Edith begin to realize more and more
that Jane does not love Towne, and that
she is sacrificing herself.
CHAPTER XIV—Jane tells Towne that
they are Invited to Simms’ for a party.
They decide to go. But the conversation
had frightened Jane. She realizes that she
both fears and respects Towne, but does
not love him. Later she calls on Mrs. Fol
lette, who suffers a heart attack but re
covers almost immediately.
(Now go on with the story.)
CHAPTER XV
Lucy was still to Eloise Harper
the stenographer of Frederick
Towne. Out of place, of course, in
this fine country house, with its for
mal gardens, its great stables, its
retinue of servants.
“What do you do with your
selves?” she asked her hostess, as
she came down, ready for dinner,
in revealing apricot draperies and
found Lucy crisp in white organdie
with a band of black velvet around
her throat.
“Do?” Lucy’s smile was ingenu
ous. “We are very busy, Del and I.
We feed the pigs.”
“Pigs?” Eloise stared. She had
assumed that a girl of Lucy’s type
would affect an elaborate attitude of
leisure. And here she was, instead,
fashionably energetic.
They led the pi^s. it seemed, ac
tually. “Of course not the big ones.
But the little ones have their bot
tles. There are ten and their moth
er died. You should see Del and
me. He carries the bottle in a met
al holder—round,”—Lucy’s hand de
scribed the shape,—“and when they
see him cumms they all squeal, and
it’s adorable
Lucy’s air was demure. She was
very happy. She was a woman of
strong spirit. Already she had in
terested her weak husband beyond
anything he had ever known in his
drifting days of bachelorhood. “Aft
er dinner,” she told Eloise, “I’ll
show you Del’s roses. They are
quite marvellous. I think his col
lection will be beyond anything in
this part of the country.”
Delafield, coming up, said, “They
are Lucy’s roses, but she says I am
to do the work.”
“But why not have a gardener?”
Eloise demanded.
“Oh, we have. But I should hate
to have our garden a mere mat
ter of—mechanics. Del has some
splendid ideas. We are going to
work for the flower shows. Prizes
and all that.”
Delafield purred like a pussy-cat.
“I shall name my first rose the
‘Little Lucy Logan.’
Edith, locking arms with Jane, a
little later, as they strolled under a
wisteria-hung trellis towards the
fountain, said, "Lucy’s making a
man of him because she loves him.
And I would have laughed at him.
We would have bored each other to
death.”
“’Riey will never be bored,” Jane
decided, “with their roses and their
little pigs.”
They had reached the fountain. It
was an old-fashioned one, with thin
streams of water spouting up from
the bill of a bronzed crane. There
were goldfish in the pool, and a big
green frog leaped from a lily pad.
Beyond the fountain the wisteria
roofed a path of pale light. A pea
cock walked slowly towards them,
its long tail sweeping the ground in
burnished beauty.
"Think of this,” said Jane, “and
Lucy’s days at the office.”
“And yet,” Edith pondered, “she
told me if he had not had a penny
she would have been happy with
him.”
“I believe it. With a cottage, one
pig, and a rose-bush, they would
find bliss. It is like that with them.”
The two women sat down on the
marble coping of the fountain. The
peacock trailed by them, its jewels
all ablaze under the sun.
Adelaide, in her burnished tulle,
tall, slender, graceful as a willow,
was swinging along beneath the trel
lis. The peacock had turned and
walked beside her. "What a pic
ture Baldy could make of that,”
Edith said, ‘The Proud Lady?
“Do you know,” Jane’s voice was
also lowered, “when I look at her,
I feel that it is she who should
marry your uncle.”
Edith was frank. “I should hate
her. And so would he in a month.
She’s artificial, and you are so
adorably natural, Jane.”
Adelaide had reached the circle
of light that surrounded the foun
tain. “The men have come and
have gone up to dress,” she said.
“All except your uncle, Edith. He
telephoned that he can’t get here
until after dinner. He has an im
portant conference.”
“He said he might be late. Benny
came, of course?”
“Yes, and Eloise is happy. He
had brought her all the town gossip.
That’s why I left. I hate gossip.”
Edith knew that pose. No one
could talk more devastatingly than
Adelaide of her neighbor’s affairs.
But she did it, subtly, with an ef
fect of charity. “I am very fond of
her,” was her way of prefacing a
ruthless revelation.
“I thought your brother would be
down,” Adelaide looked at Jane,
I hope it
d.
OS
won’t rain,” Edith
pc s on the rim of the fountain,
like 1 a blue butterfly,—“but he
wasn’t with the rest.”
“Baldy can’t be here until tomor
row noon. He had to be in the of
fice.”
“What are you going to do with
yourself in the meantime, Edith?”
Adelaide was in a mood to make
people uncomfortable. She was un
comfortable herself. Jane, in bil
lowing heavenly blue with rose rib
bons floating at her girdle, was
youth incarnate. And it was her
youth that had attracted Towne.
The three women walked towards
the house together. As they came
out from under the arbor, they were
aware of black clouds stretched
across the horizon. “I hope it won’t
rain,” Edith said, “Lucy is planning
to serve dinner on the terrace.”
Adelaide was irritable. “I wish
she wouldn’t. There’ll be bugs and
things.”
Jane liked the idea of an out-of
door dinner. She thought that the
maids in their pink linen were like
rose-leaves blown across the lawn.
There was a great umbrella over
the table, rose-striped. “How gay
it is,” she said: “I hope the rain
won’t spoil it.”
When they reached the wide-pil
lared piazza, no one was there. The
wind was blowing steadily from the
bank of clouds. Edith went in to
get a scarf.
And so Jane and Adelaide were
left alone.
Adelaide sat in a big chair with a
back like a spreading fan she was
statuesque, and knew it, but she
would have exchanged at the mo
ment every classic line for the ef
fect that Jane gave of unpremedi
tated grace and beauty. The child
had flung a cushion on the marble
step, and had dropped down upon
it. The wind caught up her ruffles,
so that she seemed to float in a
cloud.
She laughed, and kicked her whirl
ing draperies about her. “I love
the wind, don’t you?”
Adelaide did not love the wind. It
rumpled her hair. She felt spite
fully ready to hurt Jane.
“It is a pity,” she said, after a
pause, “that Ricky can’t dine with
us.”
Jane agreed. “Mr. Towne always
seems to be a very busy person.”
Adelaide carried a little gauze
fan with gold-lacquered sticks. When
she spoke she kept her eyes upon
the fan. “Do you always call him
‘Mr. Towne’?”
“Of course.”
“But not when you’re alone.”
Jane flushed. “Yes, I do. Why
not?”
“But, my dear, it is so very for
mal. And you are going to marry
him.”
“He said that he had told you.”
"Ricky tells me everything. We
are very old friends, you know.”
Jane said nothing. There was,
indeed, nothing to say. She was not
in the least jealous of Adelaide. She
wondered, of course, why Towne
should have overlooked this lovely
lady to choose a shabby child. But
he had chosen the child, and that
settled it as far as Mrs. Laramore
was concerned.
But it did not settle it for Ade
laide. “I think it is distinctly amus
ing for you to call him 'Mr. Towne?
Poor Ricky! You mustn’t hold him
at arms’ length.”
“Why not?”
“Well, none of the rest of us
have,” said Adelaide, deliberately.
Jane looked up at her. “The rest
of you? What do you mean, Mrs.
Laramore?”
"Oh, the women that Ricky has
loved,” lightly.
The winds fluttered the ribbons of
Jane’s frock, fluttered her ruffles.
The peacock on the lawn uttered a
discordant note. Jane was subcon
sciously aware of a kinship between
Adelaide and the burnished bird.
She spoke of the peacock.
“What a disagreeable voice he
has.”
Adelaide stared. “Who?”
“The peacock," said Jane.
Then Eloise and Edith came in,
and presently the men, and Lucy
and Del from a trip to the small
porkers, and Adelaide going out with
Del to dinner was uncomfortably
aware that Jane had either artlessly
or artfully refused to discuss with
her the women who had been loved
by Frederick Towne!
The dinner was delicious. “Our
farm products,” Delafield boasted.
Even the fish, it seemed, he had
caught that morning, motoring over
to the river and bringing them back
to be split and broiled and served
with little new potatoes. There was
chicken and asparagus, small cream
cheeses with the salad, heaped-up
berries in a Royal Worcester bowl,
roses from the garden. “All home
grown,” said the proud new hus
band.
Jane ate with little appetite. She
had refused to discuss with Adelaide
the former heart affairs of her be
trothed, but the words rang in her
ears, “The women that Ricky has
loved.”
Jane was young. And to youth,
love is for the eternities. The
thought of herself as one of a suc
cession of Dulcineas was degrading.
She was restless and unhappy. It
was useless to assure herself that
Towne had chosen her above all the
rest. She was not sophisticated
enough to assume that it is, per
haps, better to be a man’s last love
than his first. That Towne had made
it possible for any woman to speak
of him as Adelaide spoke, seemed
to Jane to drag her own relation to
him in the dust.
The strength of the wind in
creased. The table was sheltered
by the house, but at last Delafield
decided, “We’d better go in. The
rain is coming. We can have our
coffee in the hall.”
Their leaving had the effect of a
stampede. Big drops splashed into
the plates. The men servants and
maids scurried to the rescue of
china and linen.
The draperies of the women
streamed in the wind Adelaide’s
tulle was a banner of green and
blue. The peacock came swiftly up
the walk, crying raucously, and
found a sheltered spot beneath the
steps.
From the wide hall, they saw the
rain in silver sheets. Then the doors
were shut against the beating wind.
They drank their coffee, and
bridge tables were brought in. There
were enough without Jane to form
two tables. And she was glad. She
wandered into the living-room and
curled herself up in a window-seat.
The window opened on the porch.
Beyond the white pillars she could
see the road, and the rain-drenched
garden.
After a time the rain stopped,
and the world showed clear as crys
tal against the opal brightness of
the western sky. The peacock came
out of his hiding-place, and dragged
a heavy tail over the sodden lawn.
It was cool and the air was sweet.
Jane lay with her head against a
cushion, looking out. She was lonely
and wished that Towne would come.
Perhaps in his presence her doubts
would vanish. It grew dark and
darker. Jane shut her eyes and at
last she fell asleep.
She was waked by Towne’s voice.
He was on the porch. “Where is
everybody?”
It was Adelaide who answered
him. “They have motored into Alex
andria to the movies. Eloise would
have it. But I stayed—waiting for
vnn. RicVv.”
THE BLUFFTON NEWS, BLUFFTON, OHIO
“Where’s Jane?”
“She w’ent up-stairs early. Like
a sleepy child.”
Jane heard his laugh. “She is a
child—a darling child.”
Then in the darkness Adelaide
said, “Don’t, Ricky.”
“Why not?”
“Do you remember that once
upon a time you called me—a dar
ling child?”
“Did I? Well, perhaps you were.
You are certainly a very charming
woman.”
Jane, listening breathlessly, as
sured herself that of course he was
polite. He had to be.
Adelaide was speaking. “So you
are going to announce it tomorrow?”
“Who told you?”
“Edith.”
“Well, it seemed best, Adelaide.
The wedding day isn’t far off—and
the world will have to know it.”
A hushed moment, then, “Oh,
Ricky, Ricky!”
"Adelaide! Don’t take it like
that.”
“I can’t help it. You are going
out of my life. And you've always
been so strong, and big, and brave.
No other man will ever match you.”
When he spoke, his voice had a
new and softer note. “I didn’t dream
it would hurt you.’’
“You might have known.”
The lightning flickering along the
horizon showed Adelaide standing
beside Towne’s chair.
“Ricky” the whispered words
reached Jane—“kiss me once—to
say ‘good-by?
CHAPTER XVI
Young Baldwin Barnes, on Satur
day morning, ate breakfast alone in
the little house. He read his paper
and drank his coffee. But the savor
of things was gone. He missed
Jane. Her engaging chatter, the
spirited challenge, even the small ir
ritations. “She is such a darling
dear,” was his homesick meditation.
Oh, a man needed a woman on
the other side of the table. And
when Jane was married, what then?
Edith!
Oh, if he might! If Philomel might
sing for her! Toast and poached
eggs! Nectar and ambrosia! His
little house a castle!
“But it isn’t mine own,” the young
poet reminded himself “there is
still the mortgage.” He came down
to earth, cleared the table, fed the
pussy-cats. Then he went down to
the post-box to get the mail.
The Barnes’ mail was rarely vo
luminous, rarely interesting. A bill
or two, a letter from Judy—some
futile advertising stuff.
This morning, however, there was
a long envelope. In one corner was
the name of the magazine to which,
nearly six months before, Baldy had
sent his prize cover design. The
thing had almost gone out of his
thoughts. He had long ceased to
hope. Money did not miraculously
fall into one’s lap.
He tore open the envelope. With
in was a closely typed letter and a
pale pink check.
The check was for two thousand
dollars. He had won the prize!
Breathless with the thought of it,
deprived of strength, he sat down
on the terrace steps. Merrymaid
and the kitten came down and an
gled for attention, but Baldy over
looked them utterly. The letter
was astounding. The magazine had
not only given him the prize but they
wanted more of his work. They
would pay well for it—and if he
would come to New York at their
expense, the art editor would like to
talk it over!
Baldy, looking up from the preg
nant phrases and ^catching Merry
maid’s eye upon -him, demanded,
“Now, what do you think of that?
Shall I resign from the office? I’ll
tell the world, I will.”
Oh, the thing might even make it
possible for him to marry Edith.
He could at least pay for the honey
moon—preserve some sense of per
sonal independence while he worked
towards fame. If she would only
see it. That he must ask her to live
for a time—in the little house. He’d
make things easy for her—oh, well,
the thing could be done—it could be
done.
He flew up the steps on the wings
of his delight. He would ride like
the wind to Virginia—find Edith in a
rose-garden, fling himself at her
feet Declare his good fortune! And
he would see her eyes!
Packing his bag, he decided to
stop in Washington, and perpetrate
a few extravagances. Something for
Edith. Something for Jane. Some
thing for himself. There would be
no harm in looking his best
He arrived at Grass Hills in time
for lunch. His little flivver came up
the drive as proudly as a limou
sine. And Baldy descending was
a gay and gallant figure. There was
no one in sight but the servants who
took his bag, and drove his car
around to the garage. A maid in
rose linen said that Mr. and Mrs.
Simms were at the stables. Misg
Towne was on the links with the
other guests, and would return from
the Country Club in time for lunch
at two o’clock. Miss Barnes was
up-stairs. Her head had ached, and
she had had her breakfast in bed.
“Will you let her know that I am
here?”
The maid went up and came down
to say that Miss Barnes was in the
second gallery—and would he go
right up.
The second gallery looked out
over the river. Jane lay in a long
chair. She was pale, and there were
shadows under her eyes.
“Oh, look here, Janey,” Baldy
blurted out, “is it as bad as this?”
“I’m just—lazy.” She sat up and
kissed him. Then buried her face in
his coat and wept silently.
“For heaven’s sake, Jane,” he pat
ted her shoulder, “what’s the mat
ter?”
“I want to go home.”
He looked blank. “Home?”
“Yes.” She stopped crying.
“Baldy, something has happened—
and I’ve got to tell you?’ Tensely,
with her hands clasped about her
knees, she rehearsed for him the
scene between Adelaide and Fred
erick Towne. And, when she finished
she said, “I can’t marry him.”
“Of course not. A girl like you.
You’d be miserable. And that’s the
end of it.”
“Utterly miserable.” She stared
before her. Then presently she went
on. “I stayed up-stairs all the morn
ing. Lucy and Edith have been
perfect dears. I think Edith lays it
to the announcement of my engage
ment tonight. That I was dread
ing it. Of course it mustn’t be an
nounced, Baldy.”
He stood up, sternly renouncing
his dreams. “Get your things on,
Jane, and I’ll take you home. You
can’t stay here, of course. We can
decide later what it is best to do.”
“I don’t see how I can break it off.
He’s done so much for us. I can’t
ever—pay him—”
In Baldy’s pocket was the pink
slip. He took it out and handed it
to his sister. “Jane, I got the prize.
Two thousand dollars.”
“Baldy!” Her tone was incredu
lous.
He had no joy in the announce
ment. The thing had ceased to mean
freedom—it had ceased to mean—
Edith. It meant only one thing at
the moment, to free Jane from bond
age.
He gave Jane the letter and she
read it. “It is your great oppor
tunity.”
“Yes.” He refused to discuss that
aspect of it. “And it comes in the
nick of time for you, old dear.”
Their flight was a hurried one. A
note for Lucy and one for Towne.
A note for Edith!
Jane was not well was the reason
given their hostess. The note to
Towne said more than that. And
the note to Edith was—renunciation.
Edith coming home to luncheon
found the note in her room. All
the morning she had been filled with
glorious anticipation. Baldy would
arrive in a few hours. Together
they would walk down that trellised
path to the fountain, they w’ould sit
on the marble coping. She would
trail her hand through the water.
Further than that she would not let
her imagination carry her. It was
enough that she would see him in
that magic place with his air of
golden youth.
But she was not to see him, for
the note said:
“Beloved—I make no excuse for
calling you that because I say it
always in my heart—Jane has made
up her mind that she cannot marry
your uncle. So we are leaving at
once.
“I can’t tell you what the thought
of these two days with you meant
to me. And now I must give them
up. Perhaps I must give you up,
I don’t know. I came with high
hopes. I go away without any hope
at all. But I love you.”
(To be Continued)
Rockport
Rev. and Mrs. Dwight Nichols and
daughter of Johnstown, Pa., called
on friends in this vicinity last Tues
day afternoon.
Mr. and Mrs. Frank Holiday and
daughter Helen of Detroit spent Sat
urday in the home of Mr. and Mrs.
Clarence Begg.
Mr. and Mrs. W. E. Marshall and
daughter Mary left Friday for an
over Sunday visit with Mr. and Mrs.
P. A. Morse of Centralia, Ill.
Mr. and Mrs. Loren Van Meter
and daughter Ann who have been in
Columbus the past summer where
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Modern Romances................1 Yr.
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Mr. Van Meter has been working on
his Master’s degree at O. S. U.,
were week-end guests of Mr. Harley
Van Meter and Mr. and Mrs. Donald
Van Meter. The Van Meter’s left
Sunday evening for their home in
Lima, where Mr. Van Meter is an
instructor in the Shawnee school.
Mrs. Delmar Smith and son Kent
of Tontogany arrived here Thursday
for a visit with her parents, Mr. and
Mrs. J. O. Cupp. Mr. Smith and
Mr. and Mrs. Edwin Cupp and
daughter of Findlay joined the group
for Sunday dinner.
Mr. and Mrs. Guy Mayberry and
daughters Mary Jane and Nancy
spent the week end with friends in
Cleveland and at a family gathering
in the home of Mrs. Emma Cook in
Ashtabula.
Mrs. Fred Grismore of Ft. Myers,
Fla. Mrs. Levi Grismore and Mrs.
Glen Miller, of Pandora, called on
Mrs. Orlo Marshall one day last
week.
Mr. and Mrs. Glen Huber and
children Jeanette and Buddy and
Mrs. Mary Sylvester motored to Ft.
Wayne, Sunday where they spent
the day with Mr. and Mrs. Harvey
Sylvester and family. Mrs. Sylves
ter remained to assist in the care of
the new grandson for a few weeks.
Mr. and Mrs. Edgar Begg and
Mrs. Clarence Begg joined in the
Putnam County Grange tour that
visited various homes in the county
to see beautiful flower gardens and
new homes, last Tuesday. There
were about thirty cars in the car
avan.
Mrs. Orlo Marshall attended a
luncheon meeting of the 1924 Past
Matron’s club, O. E. S. at the Ma
sonic Temple in Van Wert last
Thursday, with Mrs. Ann Craig of
Van Wert as hostess. Mr. Marshall
and daughter Jean spent the day
with friends in Delphos.
Mr. and Mrs. Louis Maple of
Chicago called at the Ed Begg and
Walter Cupp homes in this vicinity
Friday evening.
Rev. and Mrs. Dwight Nichols and
daughter of Johnstown, Pa., took
dinner Monday evening with Mr. and
Mrs. Edgar Begg and sons.
Wade Eaton and son Ray of Lima
and Mrs. Lou Eaton of Bluffton were
Sunday afternoon guests of Mr. and
Mrs. Orlo Marshall and daughter
Jean.
Mr. and Mrs. Alvin Miller of near
Lima took dinner Sunday in the
home of Mr. and Mrs. E. E. Freet.
Their daughter, Helen Louise who
had been a guest in the Freet home
for several days returned home with
them.
The September meeting of the M.
E. Missionary society will be held
next Wednesday afternoon in the
home of Mrs. Malcolm Ewing.
Mr. and Mrs. Stewart Berryhill
and family were among those who
attended the street fair in Delphos
the past week.
Mr. and Mrs. Ortha Graham and
sons Herbert and Howard and Mr.
and Mrs. Allen Miller of Rt. 6 Lima
were Sunday guests of Mr. and Mrs.
Cloyd Myers.
Mr. and Mrs. William Augsburger
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PAGE SEVEN
of Bluffton were Sunday dinner
guests of Mr. and Mrs. Herbert Mar
shall and family.
William, Beatrice and Richard
Cupp spent Sunday afternoon with
relatives near West Liberty.
John Sylvester of Marion took
supper Saturday evening with his
mother, Mrs. Mary Sylvester and Mr.
and Mrs. Glen Huber and family.
Miss Elizabeth Campbell accom
panied by her sister LaDonna, play
ed a group of cello numbers for the
Teachers’ Institute in Ottawa, Wed
nesday afternoon.
Rawson
Mrs. Ella McClelland attended the
New Stark school reunion, Friday.
Mr. and Mrs. Guy Miller and sons
Charles and Ronald and daughter
Vera attended the Miller reunion at
Avondale near Indian Lake, Sunday.
LaVem Lather is spending several
days at Lake Maughton in Michigan.
Mr. and Mrs. Paul Friel returned
to West Virginia after spending sev
eral days with Mr. and Mrs. Carleton
Robbins and family.
Keith Hugus returned home Tuesday
after a two-week visit with Paul Gar
bison of Risingsun.
Mr. and Mrs. Joe Brown of Pontiac,
Mich., were Sunday guests of Mr. and
Mrs. Harry Lather and family.
Miss Laura Jones of Kansas and
Mrs. Maud Sweet were Sunday din
ner guests of Mr. and Mrs. R. S.
Trask.
Mr. and Mrs. Ransom Thomas and
daughter Patty who formerly resided
in Findlay moved to Rawson, Satur
day.
Mr. and Mrs. Roy Crozer and fam
ily of Findlay called on Mr. and Mrs.
George Crozier, Thursday afternoon.
Mr. and Mrs. Carleton Robbins and
family were Sunday dinner guests of
Mrs. Ella McClelland.
Mr. and Mrs) C. W. Smith and fam
ily were Sunday guests of Mr. and
Mrs. Oscar Steinman of Findlay.
Mr. and Mrs. Vinton Mann were
Sunday guests of Mr. and Mrs. Geo.
Crozier.
Mr. and Mrs. Richard Pope and
daughter Jill Ann of Lima were Sun
day dinner guests of Mr. and Mrs.
Henry Little and son Paul.
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