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j Released b; Western Newspaper Union.
By VIRGINIA VALE WHEN Mary Pickford was picked by the winning con testant on the Mutual network’s “Queen for a Day” program as the person the “Queen” wanted to have tea with, Mary liked the idea of the program so much that she invited the mother of Mer vyn Leßoy to hear it broadcast. Mrs. Leßoy enjoyed the broadcast so much that she promptly called her son, and talked so enthusiastically that he decided to make a Techni color picture on the ‘‘Queen for a Day” idea of creating 24-hour Cin derellas. Monogram played host to ‘‘Queens” on the successive days. They watched Peter Cookson, War ren William and Anne Gwynne work on the “Suspense” set, then visited the night-club set of “Swing Pa rade.” Susan Hayward has left Para mount, where she got her start, and signed with Walter Wanger for seven years. Her first picture will be the technicolor Western, “Can las i i ■,,*£ SUSAN HAYWARD yon Passage,” with Dana Andrews and Brian Donlevy. She’ll be work ing at Universal, right along with her husband, Jess Barker, who’s playing a featured role in “As It Was Before.” —* There"s a fine new radio show scheduled to start September 11. Cornelia Otis Skinner and Roland Young will be heard in more of the delightful “William and Mary” sketches, written by Miss Skinner, which were heard on the air a while ago. Barry Wood will be the sing ing master of ceremonies, and Ray Block’s orchestra, a new mixed cholar group, and a guest star will complete the program. “A Night in Casablanca” will launch the Marx Brothers as inde pendent film producers, and the Marxes will try it out on a stage tour of Pacific coast theaters and service camps. That is, they’ll do five sketches that have been devel oped from the script, about 400,000 persons will see them, and the ma terial that gets by with this critical audience will go into the picture. —* — Jack Douglas, writer and actor on the Phil Harris radio show, was giv en a baby shower by Harris and the cast when John Douglas Jr. ar rived. One gift was a cradle which has rocked the babies of the Ronald Colmans, Ruth Hussey and Constance Moore, respectively. —* — William Goetz, head of Interna tional Pictures, is “agin” long fea ture films, so his “Tomorrow Is For ever,” starring Claudette Colbert, Orson Welles and George Brent, will reach the screen in less than 10,000 feet—will run less than two hours. Twentieth Century-Fox plans to remake that lovely story, “Berkeley Square,” in which Leslie Howard and Heather Angel originally ap peared. But the story will be rewrit ten, and this time Maureen O’Hara, Gregory Peck and Jeanne Crain will have the leading roles. —* — “The Strange Adventure” has an Academy Award line-up; Clark Ga ble, Greer Garson, Thomas Mitch ell, Director Victor Fleming and Cameraman Joseph Rutenberg have all won their Oscars. The chickens which chase the actors have no Os cars, but they’re prize stunt hens. —* — Want to appear on a quiz show? Then take a tip from Quizmaster Fred Uttal, who selects guest con testants for the Wednesday night CBS “Detect and Collect” show. Fred says he looks the audience over and picks those with “the most eager hands.” —* — ODDS AND ENDS — CpI. Michel Pan meff is spending his 30-day furlough work ing in “Night and Day” at Warners'. . . . After two and a half years in the Coast Guard, Gig Young returns to Warners’; he was last seen in “Old Acquaintance" with Bette Davis. ... 20th Century-Fox has reoptioned Allyn Joslyn for another year —he’s currently appearing with Peggy Ann Gamer in the film version of “Junior Miss". . . Dix Davis, “Randolph" on the NBC “Date With Judy” program, has signed,for the rale of Hugh Herbert’s son in the Sunday CBS “fhaf's My Pop” . . . ■ RKO wilt have mod Vanity Kaye techni color comedies in 1945-46. THE STORY THUS FAR: Thunder fcead, er the Goblin ai he Is commonly known, Is the only white horse ever born on the Goose Bar ranch In Wyoming. He grows from an ngly, misshapen colt to a powerful yearling, showing more and mere characteristics of his great grandslre, a wild stallion called the Al bino. One day the Goblin wanders south ward into the mountains and finds a high valley where wild horses live. He encounters the Albino, and barely es capes with his life. Meanwhile his mother Fllcka bears another colt named Touch and Go. GobUn returns, badly Injured. When his wounds are healed, Ken McLaughlin, his 12-year-old owner, begins the difficult task of training him. CHAPTER XU Late one afternoon, after an hour of such struggling, a fury came into Ken and he began to lash Thun derhead with his crop. He lashed him until he was exhausted. With his other hand he held the reins and forced the horse this way and that. With his heels he spurred him. Tears of weakness and rage stood in his eyes. Suddenly Thunderhead had the impulse to obey. Generations _ of breeding had put aknowledge into him of the horse’s part of horseman ship, a realization that obedience to a skilled rider makes one out of the two, makes teamwork out of the ride, something almost like a dance, a performance that a horse cannot achieve alone. He leaned his mouth against the feather lightness of Ken’s hands, and, obedient to them, exercised skills that he had never exercised before. There was grace to his movement now, grace and con trol and technique. There was joy in it. He stopped fighting the bit. As if he had learned all that Ken had been trying to teach him, or had known it all along, he swung right or (left at the least touch of the rein on his neck or the lean of his rider’s body. His steps were pliant, pranc ing. He delighted in the quick, easy turns, in responding to the hands that lifted him into a longer and longer stride. When Thunderhead achieved obe dience, he enlarged himself. The skill and the will of another being were added to his own skill and will. He was having a new experience and it ran through his body like quicksilver. He loved Nell, but no body had fought him and warred with him and lashed him and taught him obedience but Ken. At last Ken let him out fully and urged him with voice and hands and heels. Thunderhead began to run. His hoofs reached forward and seized the ground with a slashing cut that barely touched and rebounded. A feeling of extraordinary ease went through Ken. No effort was needed, there was no more strug gling, he and the colt were one at last. The fight was over and now —this! Mastery l Underneath him was something of such strength and pow er as he had never dreamed of. It surged into him. It was his own. A clump of rocks was ahead of i them. Ken did not swerve—the least 1 tightening of his knees, lift of his hands—and the stallion sailed over, hardly altering his stride. The fence over there by the road! Take it, Thunderhead, and the long soaring leap—the light landing— Everything seemed different to Ken. He looked around. He saw, felt, apprehended as he never had before, as if he had been let into a secret world that no one else knew anything about. The wind whipped his cheeks and filled his mouth and beat upon his eyeballs and whistled in his ears. The pace! The incredi ble speed! The strange floating gait! Those long reaching strides seemed almost slow, like the overhand strokes of a swimmer. Then the lightning-quick slash at the ground, and again the rush through the air. No obstacles could stop him. There were none. They floated over them. The world rolled out from under the stallion’s hoofs. They were cov ering ground Ken had never seen be fore. He made no effort to guide him. They were on the mountains —they were in the sky—Clouds, trees, earth, streamed past. A group of antelopes! He saw their fright ened leaps—their startled faces— they were gone! Ken’s consciousness was fused with all that there was in the world. He had gathered it in. He was the pulse-beat. He was the kernel. This is it. He sat at the supper table that night in a dream, unable to speak or eat. He wondered if Thunderhead would ever do it again. When he had dismounted and unsaddled the colt and had stood looking into his face—looking into the future, his hands trembling because he knew, now, beyond all doubt, what the horse could do—he saw that Thun derhead still hated him. The dark, white-ringed eye looked at him side ways, viciously. “How did the colt go today, Ken?” “He went—better, dad.” “Did you get him to go forward under the saddle?” “Yes, sir.” “Did you get him running?” “Sort of-” Rob McLaughlin looked search ingly at his son. He asked no more. It was a warm August evening. Rob was driving to a ranch south west of his own to inspect a mare. He had been told she was a regis MIDLAND JOURNAL, RISING SUN. MD. tered thoroughbred, had been a rac er, and was for sale cheap. The number of his own brood mares was down to sixteen. They were getting old. He had lost four in the last two years, and two more must be sold before fall because they would not live through another win ter on the range. Colorado farmers who kept a few horses stabled through the winter might buy them for the sake of the foals they would drop in the spring. They would bring very little at auction but any thing would be better than feeding them to the coyotes on the Saddle Back. Nell was driving with him. They were on one of the back roads, not much more than wheel tracks on the prairie grass. It was at just that moment of the evening when headlights are of no use and day light is not enough. The car swept ahead so swiftly, and at times so roughly, that Nell was about to pro test, but one look at Rob’s face stopped her. He had his angry driv ing look. Nell withdrew a little into her own corner and sighed. It might have been a pleasant evening. She al ways enjoyed a drive at the end of the day when her work was done, but if he was going to be like this— “ Gypsy hasn’t long to go either,” said Rob abruptly. "At this rate, my band of brood mares will soon be cut in half.” "Couldn’t you put some of the younger mares in the brood mare bunch?” asked Nell. “There are those three five-year-olds—the sor rels—they’re wonderful mares.” “To be bred back to their own sire?” "That’s line-breeding, isn’t It? “A new purebred stallion!” ex claimed Nell. You’re always talking about it.” “But you can’t do it indiscrimi nately. They have to be picked in dividuals. There isn’t one of those mares good enough.” “What’ll you do for brood mares then, Rob?” “Buy some more, I suppose, the way I bought all the others. Travel around to the race tracks—pick up mares of good blood that can’t race any more.” Nell made no answer. Rob want ed to fight. He didn’t want to see a way out or to make any compro mise. She changed the subject. “Rob, I’ve been thinking about Thunderhead. Ken is so awfully happy about him now—the speed he’s developed. Do you think it’s absolutely necessary to geld him?” “He’s a two-year-old,” said Rob harshly. “All the other twos are to be gelded, why shouldn’t he be?” “Ken is simply having a fit about it,” said NeU. “Ken is a pain in the neck.” “Besides,” said Nell, “he’s not really two yet just twenty-two months.” Rob explained, with weary pa tience as if to a child of subnormal intelligence, “We wait until they are two to geld them in order to give their necks time to develop. But Thunderhead’s neck is already de veloped like a three-year-old’s. He could have been gelded six months ago.” Rob’s tone of voice served notice on her that he didn’t want to hear any more of that. She closed her lips tight but the seething thoughts went on behind them. They them selves were heading into financial disaster just as fast as they could gallop. It was this fall that Howard was to go east to Bostwick’s Preparatory School, and the tuition was twelve hundred dollars and half of it had to be paid in advance. Where was that money going to come from? And the money for his outfit and traveling expenses? She hadn’t dared ask Rob. There would have to be eight hundred dollars by September the tenth. Perhaps there wouldn’t be. At the thought of aban doning their plans for the boys’ edu cation her hand began to tap nerv ously on her knee. No. Anything but that. It would only be two years at Bostwick’s and then into West Point and no more expense. \ way must be found. But that wasn't all. What about their own expense* for the coming year? They would need two thousand dollars to live on, and there was a thousand dollars of un paid bills—hardware, veterinary, el evator, machine repair shop—and that five thousand dollar note to be paid in October—it had to be paid. Last year the man had extended it for a year and said that was the last time. She sat nervously upright. “Rob —is Bellamy going to take the lease for the sheep again this fall?” “I don’t know. Haven’t asked him yet. But I suppose he will. Why?” The last word was shot at her bel ligerently. “Well—l was just wondering. The lease money—that fifteen hundred dollars—it means a good deal to us.” Rob playfully grabbed her by the head with his free hand and shook her. “Now you’re worrying about money. Don’t bother your little head about that. I’ll attend to it.” "Ouch!” said Nell, catching at her head. "You hurt.” She rearranged her hair, and returned to her thoughts. Rob, of course, would nev er see or think what he didn’t want to. But suppose he were different? Suppose he were openminded and reasonable—what ought they to do? What did people do when they had spent half their lives doing some thing that was, apparently, going to bring them to the poorhouse if con tinued? They did not fling good years after bad. They changed. They took another road. But Rob? It was as if he were hypnotized—as if he could not turn or change. He wouldn’t even discuss it. Suddenly she felt angry. Here they were partners in the greatest possible en terprise-family life—and she must suffer the consequences of failure as well as he, yet he would never al low discussions on unpleasant themes. He would shout at her, browbeat her, create such friction and unpleasantness that she could not bear it—it wasn’t fair. Suddenly Rob burst out: “I can see that I’ve been awfully dumb.” “What do you mean?” “I’ve always thought that you were with me.” “With you?” “In everything I did. The ranch, my work, the horses, my plans—ev erything.” "But Rob—of course I—” “You used to be,” he interrupted. “I don’t know when you changed. I’ve just been going along like a fool taking it for granted.” “Taking what for granted?” “That you had confidence in me.” “You oughtn’t to put It that way. Married people ought to talk things over with each other and you never will. It isn’t that I haven’t confi dence in you—” “But you haven’t. That Is, you have no confidence in my ever mak ing a go of the horses. I know I will if I hang on. I’ll force it to succeed. You used to know it too. You were with me. But you don’t know it any longer.” Nell was silent. “Just exactly what would you like me to do?” he asked grimly. I—l-don’t know—” “That’s just it. You don’t know. You don’t know anything about it. But while I’m doing all I can to make a go of it—lying awake nights planning how I can keep up or im prove my horses and find the best markets, you’re just sitting back waiting for the crash so that you can pick up the pieces.” “Well,” she suddenly whispered, “we are on the downgrade, have been for years. You’ve said it your self. You’re the one who told me. You’re the one who’s worrying your self sick about it. And we’re not making any sort of change in our lives, in our plans, so why expect a change in the results?” Rob stood facing her, feet apart, his dark head, so significant and arresting, dropped on his chest. The moonlight changed his ruddiness of skin to a greenish pallor. Suddenly Nell held out her arms —nothing mattered—she went to him. He pushed her away. “Don’t, Nell, I can’t stand it.” She backed away, feeling humili ated. She might have known he didn’t want comfort or coddling, he wanted his head up again—before her. But what could she do about that? While she stood, clasping her hands frantically together and fight ing the tears that in a moment could be a flood, Rob walked away from her and disappeared. In such moments of unendurable hurt, lovers run away from each other. Nell walked down toward the cor rals and stood against the fence. Presently she saw the horses ap proaching, Thunderhead and Touch And Go. He came to the fence, she spoke his name and held out her hand. He came close, she laid her hand on his face. “Thunderhead Thunderhead—” He felt her grief as horses always do, and shoved his nose against her. Touch And Go must do as her big brother did and pushed her nose up for petting too. When Nell went in, half an hour later, she found Rob sitting in his den, reading the paper, knees com fortably crossed and pipe in his mouth. (TO BB CONTINUED) SEWING CIRCLE PATTERNS Pretty Lingerie Makes Nice Gift Smtrt T..FF.IT ht Fill FFio. Nightgown and Jacket. rVERY Woman likes pretty ■f-' lingerie and this enchanting nightgown and matching jacket is as lovely a set as you’ll see. Make it in dainty all-over flowered fabric or in soft pastels. It will be a love ly gift for the fall bride. * * * Pattern No. 8791 Is designed for sizes 12, 14, 18, 18, 20; 40 and 42. Size 14. gown, requires 3% yards of 35 or 39 inch mate rial; jacket, V/a yards 39 inch fabric Don’t throw away lemon and or ange skins. Bake them in a mod erate oven until very crisp. When cold grate or grind them and store in a well corked bottie. A pinch in a pudding or cake makes a great improvement. —• — When threading a sewing ma chine needle, hold something white under the needle and it will thread more easily. —•— Put a few pieces of charcoal into glass in which a hyacinth bulb is planted to keep the water sweet. —•— Keep cooked meat covered. Chopped and sliced cooked meats spoil more quickly than meat in the piece. Cut or chop just before using. Keep meat sandwiches and salads cold right up to time of serving. —•— Moderate heat should be used to preserve the life of your porcelain enameled utensils. When the con tents have reached the boiling point, the flame may be lowered even more. This is a fuel saving tip also. Wipe off the fruit you have bought with a clean, slightly damp cloth before putting it away. This will clean it and check any rot that may have gotten on it from other fruits. —•— To keep a hem even, in a dress or other garment, after you have sewn an inch or two, insert a piece of cardboard the width of the hem and about six inches long and slip it along as you sew. Wash burners on gas stove once a week in a solution made of one gallon water, two tablespoons washing soda and soap flakes. Rinse and dry well. —•— To exterminate white flies on house plants, cover with a newspa per canopy and have someone blow smoke under it. I Baking Powder. •* "For year* and year*, a favorite, yet modem'as tomorrow” ... that describes Clabber Girl Baking Powder ... balanced double action... tested and proved In both mixing bowl and ' oven ... the natural choice for the modem baking recipe. '\M For Special Occasions. A FASHION favorite for fall— the two piece frock. This one, buttoned down the in smartly at the waist, makes you look your best on those extra spe cial occasions. * • * /►; Pattern No. 8899 is designed for sizes 12, 14, 16, 18 and 20. Size 14, short sleeves, requires 3% yards of 35 or. 39 inch fabric. Due to an unusually large demand and current war conditions, slightly more time is required in filling orders for a few of the most popular pattern numbers. Send your order to: SEWING CIRCLE PATTERN DEPT. 1150 Sixth Ave. New York, N. T. Enclose 25 cents in coins for each pattern desired. Pattern No. Name Artriraea ■HmakeEß ICE CREAM At horn*—Any flavor—Delicious—Smooth —No ico crystals —No cooking —No ro whipping—No scorched flavor—Easy Inexpensive— 2o recipes In each 154 pkgr. j Please send this ad for free full-size sam- < pie offer or buy from your grocer. LOHDOnDEIIRtf i Brand Homemade Ice Cream STABILIZER I 6oM n J 1 600d ness 'l I "The Grains Ara Great Foods" II I H Kellogg’s Corn Flakes bring you IR M nearly all the protective food ele- HI ■ mente of the whole grein declared H ■ eesentisl to human nutrition. ■ lUj