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Spokane Friend of Grace Moon Recalls MRS. K. E. JOHNSON, s4llß GRAND AVE. The Indians of Arizona and New Mexico have preserved their forms and customs in remarkable independence —that were the white race suddenly annihilated, the Navajos and Hopis of the desert and mesa would pursue their way undisturbed in absolute in dependence, is the statement of Grace Moon, announcement of whose new book is eagerly awaited. To live among them, win so thoroughly their confidence, and then to be able, so truly and in so fascinating a manner, to portray them by pen and camera and brush seems to me a wonderful and lasting accomplishment, and this, Grace and Carl Moon, working togeth er, have done. The life of artists and authors is a strenuous one—always the painting and writing, writing, writing; even the pad and pencil proving a part of the regular equipment when on a va cation trip. Carl Moon’s largest collection of photographs and paintings of the southwest Indians is contained in one room—of the wonderful Henry L. Huntington Library in New York City. These pictures run true to type, and form a valuable part of the national history of the Indian as he is today in his natural state, g My introduction to Grace Moon was in my girlhood days. My home was at Sioux Falls, South Dakota, where came Francis B. Purdie with his wife, his son, Maxwell, a daughter Grace, a charming girl of 15, She was a splendid combination of the clear, gray eyed, level-headed Scotch poise of her father's ancestry, and the dark haired, gracious bearing with little im petuous enthusiasms inherited from her mother’'s French descent. My sister and I first met her at Sunday School, and well do I remem ber our first invitation from her to spend the night at her house. When we said that we could not, she sent back a spirited little note to the effect that it wasn’t “could not,” but “would not,” which, of course, settled the mat ter. We spent the night with her and thus began our lifelong friendship. At a very romantic period in our lives (Grace was 15, my sister, Bess, 15, and I, 17), we three girls were chums all that summer—reading the same books, and interested in the same things and the same people. I remember a charming party given by Grace and her mother, for which we girls brought cedar boughs from the island with which to decorate. And on the hot summer afternoon follow ing the party we sat by the shady side of the house, eating turkey sandwiches and reading either “The Lion or the Lady,” or “The Man With the Iron Mask,” or “The Aztec Treasure House” (our favorites that summer). To add romance to our lives we as sumed the titles of whiclh young girls are so fond, and our group boasted a “Princess Louise,” “Queen Bess,” “Empress Du 8" (Grace, whose full name was Grace Du Souchet Purdie), and “Czarine Espa” (myself). That, I think, was the dream summer of my life. But, sadly, it came to an end, when Mr. Purdie took his family to Mexico City, where he was to con tinue his work of establishing agencies for the R. G. Dunn Mercantile Agency, I shall never forget how gray that August day was, as the train left the station, and Grace was spirited away from us. [ did not weep, but a dull apathy settled down upon my heart, for she took the sunshine with her. And afterwards she wrote that she thought we did not care as much as she did, because we did not ery! ~ For three years ghe lived in Mexico Brilliant Writer City and always we enjoyed the ab sorbing correspondence of young girls. Always, on her part, a fascinating combination of interesting events, de scriptions of the country, and histori cal spots. There is a romantic glamor over all things Spanish and Mexican, and Grace, herself the spirit of romance, gave to her letters a thrill that wak ened in me an intense love and long ing for the southern lands. Later I met Grace again when eu gaged in government work in Wash ington, D, C., as she and her mother were on their way to Europe. From there came interesting letters and cards—one from the Alhambra, one containing an account of a visit to the Spanish gypsies in their native haunts—gypsies who were so impor tunate that Grace and her mother es caped only after emptying their purses! Another letter announced that her father had given them the choice between a trip to Germany and some Paris gowns, and they had chos en the gowns'! Afterwards the Pur dies lived in Buenos Aires for several years, and from there Grace and her mother returned to the states in 1904, in time to attend my wedding, at which Grace, of course, was a brides maid. One thing they told of their journey up from far-away South Amer ica, was the necessity for wearing mosquito net veils through Paraguay as a precaution against yellow fever mosquitoes, Later she and her mother traveled extensively in the United States, Grace attending for a time the Uni versity of Wisconsin. Somewhere in these years her brother, Max, was killed in an iceboat accident at Lake Mendota, Wisconsin, while a student at the University. During a trip to the Grand Canyon of the Colorado she and her mother met Carl Moou at the El Tovar Stu dio. For several years after their marriage Carl and Grace lived at the studio, studying and painting the In dians of the Southwest, and coilecting their legands. If you wish to see the first combined result of this study, in “Indian Leg ends in Rhyme” you may read Grace Moon’s first published volume of poems, artistically illustrated by her husband. Then appeared the “lLost Indian Magic,” a marvelously fasinating tale, written by Grace and Carl Moon in collaboration, and illustrated by Carl. This book is listed on the sixth grade reading list of the Spokane public schools. Books New Some books, like some unusual peo ple, possess a delicate charm in that gay cleverness which escapes the faint suggestion of flippancy. “After Noon,” by Susan Ertz, has the quality in per fection. Like its predecessor “Ma dame Claire,” this is one of those de lightfully witty novels which evade none of the real issues, but which show forth human nature with a per ception both humorous and kindly, Venetia and Caroline, twin daugh ters of Charles Lester, a very clever Englishman, are thoroughly modern, alive young women—alive in the sense that their minds really work. Their mother deserted them in babyhood, and Lester brought them up. He fell in love, in his forties, with an American widow, Lester had been avoiding women, “I am full of the most ex quisite illusions about them,” he said, “all of which I wish to preserve—!" Appletons publish this late addition to the Spokane Woman library. THE SPOKANE WOMAN “THE TENDERFOOTS” By Francis Lynde. (Charles Scribner’'s Sons—s2.oo.) Lynde has a long string of good Western stories to his credit, but he has gone beyond his previous mark in “The Tenderfoots.” In portraying the adventures of Philip Trask and Harry Bromley, he has struck deep into the springs of human action and reaction. Trask is a New England Puritan, of rigid standards and limited experience. Bromley is the scapegrace son of a wealthy family, dissipated and harum scarum, but as Philip finally admits, with more human sympathy and under standing of life values than Trask had dreamed, Success was too much for Trask— success and the sudden disclosure that hig narrow pride of race and family had no foundation. How he finally won through to real manhood, and how “Little Irish” Connaghey, a girl in a Leadville dive, helped him back to his own place in the world and to the girl he loved, makes a very en grossing tale, Success and responsibil ity had had the opposite effect on Bromley; his patient sympathy for his partner, and the strong brotherly hand he extended to Jean, Trask’s sweet heart, lend sweetness to the picture, * * . Travel books are enjoyed by the people who are going to see the world, and wish to view it intelligently; by those who were born with the wander lust and have to gratify it in imagina tion; and by those who don't want anything better than a Homease chair, a shaded lamp, and a good book about the far places. We have a book on our shelves that more people ought to know—Stella Benson’s “The Little World.,” 1t is pure delight. Furniture Logi What makes the price? We refer to the price of anything. Furniture or soap. Unless the article covers a field all by itself, and therefore becomes a monopoly, competition creates the price, Competition is the weapon of one store against the other. What, then, enables one store to compete against the other? What, then, enables one store to create a lower price than its neighbor? The greatest and most vital factor is overhead. Overhead is the cost of doing business. The greater the expense of running a store the higher the prices must be in order to meet this expense. The W. H. Bartel Furniture Co. has little expense as compared with the other first-class stores of Spokane. Located out of the high-rent dis trict, the rent item is very low by comparison. Having a very small or ganization, our payroll is but a drop in the bucket. Expensive windows and lighting are unnecessary in our location. Our newspaper advertising is held to a minimum and costs us less by the year than many stores con sume in a week. The cost of doing business is remarkably little. The prices therefore reflect this economy, and you pay for furniture with very little “Over head” tacked on. (Out of the shopping district, but still one minute from the heart of it) Showrooms open daily including Saturday from 8:30 to 6. Other hours by appointment. W. H. BARTEL & SON 313 East Sprague Riverside 4446 » . East Sprague’s CASH Furniture Store RESULTS COUNT—— 18 Cents a Line IS a Profitable Investment for SPOKANE WOMAN Classified. Thursday, September 23, 1926 “PORTIA MARRIES"” By Jeannette Phillips Gibbs. (Little, Brown & Co., $2.00.) Herself a member of the legal pro fession, Mrs. Gibbs is well qualified to discuss the problems of the woman Jawyer who marries and continues her public career, Jane Thorndike was not built for the sort of marriage in which the woman must “play the lifelong part of gentle admirer and devotee.” She was will ing to face the battle of life shoulder to shoulder with her mate, a capable and efficient human being, citizen in her own right. Jane's original way of meeting her problems, and the work ing out of the inevitable conflict with Tommy over her business engage ments at times when he was free to play around, is of absorbing interest. . . - Believe it or not—there are 23,000 scientific periodicals published throughout the world. - - - “ONE BOY TOO MANY” By Lebbeus Mitchell. (The Century Co. $1.75.) Georgie was not a “hummer” like his brother Derrick, His father said so. It hurt all the way through the sensitive little-boy soul. With the men going out on strike, even a very small boy of seven-going-on-eight should be earning something, Georgie got a job—in the country! A marvelous place, the country. And heing able to put eight dollars in mother’'s lap to help pay the rent— lives there a boy with soul so dead that he would not thrill to that? Straight-forward and simple in style, built around the basic human virtues of courage and generosity, this story should win its way with children and grown-ups alike. Signing Off, LUCY M. C. ROBINSON.