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WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 1, 1924. I DDL m. VICTOR COPYRIGHT ROUSSEAU by W<S,CHAPMAN l fL. \ ^ > 1 » t S' * ! I He swung upon hls heel and went out of the room, leaving her gripping tab,e flercel >’ * n her humiliation. The dark-haired girl, who had been fussing in a corner. c^tme up to her. He’s a beast!" she’ exclaimed pas slonately. “He hates women—decent women. My! If he’d dared to speak that way to me I’d have told him what I thought of him. right in the middle of the operation. I don’t care for sty body when my temper’s up. I eouid tell you a few things I’ve heard about him know if I were minded to. Do ySa be went on a five years’ spree once?" “1 don’t care vvbat he did!’ cried Joan passionately. "Well, I guess you could make It your business to know,” answered the other. “A girl’s got to* fight her way, the same as a man. He threw up his job and just went away for five years, drinking and living with tramps, and then had the nerve to come back as if nothing had happened. I got it from a girl that used to be friendly with him. He’s— M She broke off abruptly as the or derly appeared with his rubber broom and bucket. i What are you going to do about it?” Inquired the girl in a low voice. ”1 reckon you don’t want to forfeit your diploma any more than the rest of us. Listen! You go and see him.” “Never I” said Joan. "Don’t be a fool. Miss Wentworth! You go and see him at his house. It’s what anyone would do in your place. Fool him by making him think he can do wliat lie likes with you; play with him and hold him off by book or crook until you’re graduated, and then laugh at him. I’d do It If I had to. My! If you heard some of the stories that are going round—” « The head nurse beckoned at the door. “The lady superintendent wants to see you at once, Miss Went worth," she said. "You’re to go right info her office.” She looked at, Joan resentfully. Her face was quite composed again, hut her eyes were reddened. She knew that Lancaster had been at fault, but she had seen Joan's blunder, too. Miss SymOns was one of those women who can acquire theTacultydof i man’s strength without losing their own sex. She was a,lower of i s trcngth t o wa r d -weakness.' hut she had no pity for a lapse of duty. Joan walked the dreary length of the corridor to the lady superintend ent’s room. The white-haired woman ; was seated at her desk, pretending to \ : be making up her accounts and com posing herself for the interview. “Miss Wentworth!’’ she begun, turn | | peared Ing round at the in door. her chair 'You as have Joan made ap I Doctor Lancaster very angry. He said J you are totally inefficient - What was It that happened this morning?" The ether made' me faint rind 1 couldn’t see the Instruments for a mo ment, and Doctor Lancaster happened to want a scalpel quickly,” answered Joan. "Well, it's a great pity,” said the H g /and other, "because had to It was somebody your first day we get to take $ § Miss Martin's place and I selected you because I relied on you particularly. || Anyway, Joan looked you are suspended. her stupefied. at "You mean—that—1 am to leave the hospl , tal and lose my diploma?" she asked. “1 don’t know yet,” answered the lady superintendent evasively. “I sup I pose Doctor Lancaster will decide that later after he has laid the matter 1 f before the board at tlieir next meet ing and looked over your record. Any way, Miss Wentworth, you may as well take a holiday for a week or so until you hear from us.” She turned back to her books while Joan, after looking at her for a mo ment in Silence, turned and went into the corridor. She made her way toward the hospital entrance. And the great wooden arch, through which she had passed hundreds of times without noticing It. suddenly became vivid with detail'; the hospital, which had been a part of her unconscious life,' looked strange and new to her. Chapter II Joan had a room in a nurses’ board ing house a few minutes’ walk away. She walked mechanically homeward, hardly even yet realizing the magni tude of the blow which had befallen her. Avonmouth lay almost deserted in the noontide glare. The shuttered houses, gay with striped awnings, looked down on the white, dusty streets. The little park that contained the Confederate monument was bright with geraniums, but the grass was parched and withered, and the feeble efforts of an automatic sprinkler seemed almost instantly absorbed by the thirsty ground, Joan made her way toward an over- hanging tree, brushed away a prickly caterpillar from a seat beneath It, and sat down. She was trying to estimate the magnitude of the catastrophe that had happened to her, to free herself from the stupefied wonder and pas sionate resentment that held her. Two hours before life had seamed reason ably bright; now its entire course was changed. For she did not doubt that the lady superintendent had been try ing- to soften the news of her dis missal. Her mind ran back to the beginning of all things for her—her father’s death. That had happened ten'years before, and the mortgage on the estate, ruined after the war, had S rown like a spreading sore, eating away field after field, until it swal lowed everything except nine hundred dollars. After the enforced sale, Mrs. Wentworth and her daughter had gone to Avonmouth for the sole’reason that the mother remembered a wealthy godmother there, distantly related, whose activities she hoped to enlist on behalf of her daughter. It was char acteristlc of her that she should not have known the woman had died six years previously. ' Still, Avonmouth was the nearest '•ge town In which a girl, flung on file world untrained, might hope to rapport two people. Joan had long before wanted to be a nurse. She de cided to attempt to enter a hospital; but now her mother’s slow, mortal Illness kept her nursing her at home. Six months after their arrival Mrs. Wentworth died. What remained of their nine hundred dollars after the doctor’s- and funeral expenses hyd been paid would suffice for Joan’s merest needs until she had graduated from the Southern hospital. But the physician who attended Mrs. Went worth in her last illness had secured the girl a position as a probationer, and Joan was ns happy as she could expect to be. Since that date he had moved away, and Joan was altogether alone. At home they hnd known hardly anyone, for the whole region was in that condition of resettlement that be gan in the seventies and is still pro ceeding, Their friends had scattered to the north and west; their letters had long since ceased. Prosperity, through the nation, had left a ri(!p( - of poverty between the swaths of Its progress through the foothills of the hack country. In Avon foo'dli Mrs. Wentworth’s illness, and a fter"ard. the hospital work, hnd kept the girl both from making friends and from the realization of her need of them. Her whole mind was set upon obtaining that diploma which would mean an assured living, and before her eyes was ever the spectacle of - such poverty as she had known at home among others and had seen .ap proaching her mother. After she graduated, perhaps, life might begin to unfold before her eyes. But even this she realized only vaguely; she lived altogether ln the moment. In the town of forty thousand In habitants Joan was as Isolated as she had been in the latter years at home. Her life was as unsophisticated and as simple, and she was so unacquaint ed with the conditions and circum stances of existence that her dismissal seemed to her an Irreparable disaster. She had won good opinions, she hnd been praised, and it seemed monstrous that her faintness at a critical moment should have ruined her whole life prospects. What made the tragedy the less tolerable was the admixture of the farcical. There was a simple and absurd explanation. Mrs. Webb’s colored cook, Amanda, had quarreled with her mistress that morning, and Joan had had to go to the hospital without her breakfast. She got up and walked slowly home ward without having resolved her problem. Inside the boarding house the air was like a furnace, and the smell of cooking was triumphant and dominant. Inside the kitchen, seen through the open door, was Amanda, the cook, and Mrs. Webb, the landlady. “Here's Amanda again!" Mrs. Webb -called to Joan. "My dear, the idea of your running away without your breakfast this morning! Now you sit right down and have your lunch, Miss Wentworth I” Joan was not hungry, but It was lm possible to oppose the resolute Insist ence of Mrs. Webb, backed by the penitent cook, whose black face, as she flitted from the kitchen to the dining room, radiated remorse and good Intentions. “One enn’t get Along without the proper food at the proper times,” said Mrs. Webb as she set down the dishes before Joan. “But 1 call It real sensible of you to have come home farly. Some girls wouldn't have thought of that.” ^ Joan choked suddenly, and Mrs. Webb perceived her distress, She bent over her amd placed a kitchen- GRIFFIN DAILY NEWS roughened hand upon her shoulder. “My dear, what is it? What Is the matter? Something gone wrong at that old hospital?" she asked, Tell me now. honey!” “It Isn’t anything. Mrs. Webb," said Joan, striving valiaftly, to keep back her tears, Well, then. I’m—I’m dis charged.” Mrs. Webb withdrew her hand and placed It upon one hip. bringing the other Into corresponding position. She glared at Joan, ns the convenient focus of her Indignation. ■ I never heard of such a thing!" she cried. "Who’s dared to discharge you. Miss Worn worth? Why, It was only yesterday Miss Gray was saying you were the only <me in the hospital that attended to her work Instead of trying to make dates with the doctors! I’ve bad the nurses two years now, Miss Wentworth, and they ain’t a snap bet ter than the salesladies I used to keep. A pack of featherheads! If some of them had been discharged ’twould serve them right But uot you, my dear. It’s that old Doctor Lancaster!” ,1 It was, and I think he was right I felt faint from the smell of ether—’’ "Of course you did!" cried Mrs. Webb. “I always knew the day would come when you would. Those smells make my head go round and round whenever I take the short cut that side of the park. I always said you weren't cut out for that sort of work. It’s all right for them strong he-borse girls that’s made for It, but what you need Is to marry some good man whc can take care of you. not to go nurs ing a lot of dock-hands and seeing people’s insides opened up. It’s my betief that wtien the Lord put our in sides inside rind our outsides outside he meant ’em to stay there.” snorted Mrs. Webb. •‘Well,’’ said Joan wearily, “it's end ed now. And 1 don't know what I'm going to do." “But I say it isn't ended I" cried Mrs Webb, concentrating all her in dignation against Lan caster In a ven omous glare at Joan. “It's only just begun. If that old 1 loctor Lancaster dares to discharge you. I'm going to tell everything I know about him. Miss Wentworth, that man’s no more fi} to be at the h#m! of a hospital, with Indies under him. (lion I e ? tit to fly. What is he? Nothing hut a fast fiver and a common drunkard." m “Never mind, Mrs. Webb!" “But I do mind. To think of a man like that, who went about with a gang of commdn tramps for years. Miss Wentworth, just breaking away from his job and hoboing it up and down the country and then coming back and getting bis jolt again and acting as he does! All that I say Is common knowledge. Five years after the hospital had seen the last of him in he walks, as bold as brass, and puts rite head doctor out, and says the hos pital's hik and he's going to run It again. And hint being ln charge of the nurses—him that runs ’round in itis auto with every pack of cheap ac tresses that comes to Avonmouth! 1 know what they are! 1 haven't been in the boarding house business twenty years for nothing!" V -- Mrs. Weiib was becoming Incoherent. Joan succeeded in stopping the flow of vilification at last, mainly because .Mrs. Webb had exhausted It. “Now I tell you wliat you are golnc to do, my dear,” she said, ‘You’ri going straight to that old Lancaster's house and you are going to ask for vonr place back. And you're going to get it. too.’’ “Mrs. Webb, how can 1 do that?” “How can you do it? Why, you can manage him all right, my dear. Yes. I guess 'tis going to he all right. I suppose he lost his temper. When a man leads the sort of life he does he hasn’t much good humor left the morning after. I know about that. You just go to him and act as If you didn’t care much and let him think you look on him as just the finest man in the world.” "Please. Mrs. Webb!” expostulated Joan; and as she spoke there came back into her mind vividly the sinister advice of the dark-haired girl. "You’ve only got to let him see your face, my dear,” continued the land lady. “You see. It’s this way. When he’s ln the hospital he’s thinking about his work. A nurse is Just a nurse to him then. But after hi* work’s over she’s different. Now don’t tell me you can't make that man do anything you want him to, because I know better.” Joan crimsoned. "I couldn’t think of such a thing,” she protested. “And why not?” Inquired the other. “If you’ve got good looks, ain’t you going to use them? It isn’t as If I wns asking you to do anything wrong, is it? You’d be a precious fool If you ((j<J)$’t. Any girl can twist a man round her finger, especially If she looks weepy.” Joan looked at Mrs. Webb ln great distress. She rose, but the landlady followed her toward the door. "You see, my dear,” she went on. "if you were given that sort of face by the Almighty, why shouldn’t you use It to get plain, common Justice done you? It's your Job that’s at stake, and you ull alone In the world. All you’ve got to do Is to make him forget that lie's dealing with a nurse. There Isn't anybody would think twice about It. Didn't Amanda do It this morning,'coming to me with her big. black, honest face, and looking at me so that 1 had to take her back, aa I was glad enough to, do? You go straight and see that old Lancaster and try It, that’s all I" A nurse passed the window and came up the steps. •’Mrs. Webb, you won’t say a word about what I’ve told you to the others, please?” asked Joan. She flew upstairs and, flinging her < 1 < >WD °5 ^er bad, stared opt di»- mally toward the monument. The ca tastrophe had swept her little, unshel tered world away. The sense of her loneliness ®*ept over her like a black cLoud, appalling her. She was cut off from life, and utterly helpless outside the medium In which she had lived. Because she felt this sense of home sickness, her outraged pride began to vanish before the terrors that her Imagination conjured up. Starvation, the ultimate terror or her childish days on the estate, which like a living J thing had gnawed into her mother’s nine hundred dollars, seemed lncred- , !h1y real hnd near. She must ask for lier position back! She must face Lancaster ln hls home, humble her pride, and how to him ; hut she watched the sun decline and the shadow's lengthen, and for a rime she could not bring herself to her task. Whin.....strengthened her atlastwas the realisation that tier status inns! be settled before she faced the day nurses coming home off duty. She slipped on her eloak and wept out of the house softly, and to escape the landlady’s attentions Joan went has tily toward Lancaster’s house. * She had passed it almost daily on tier journeys to and from the hospital. It was an ordinary brick house in a new block at the north end of the park, and commonplace enough, but now, to her excited eyes, it seemed to reflect the grim personality of its owner in the staring windows, with ■the shining door knobs of brass, and the brass name plate. Her heart was beating with panic, and it was with difficulty that she contrived to press the beil and to remain unt4l the door was opened. A white attendant confronted her— a sullen, undersized man with square % i m ] i. a. 5^ XU V 'i Hi ,--A 1 5 w f.* \f “I Must See Him; It Is Important,” Faltered the Girl. shoulders, who scowled at her as he urasr blocking th#" Mapr —— “Doctor Lancaster?” asked Joan. “He doesn’t see patients after five,” answered the man. “I must see him. It is important." faltered the girl. “Well, I’ll find out If he can see you,” - the fellow grumbled. “Walk in If >;ou want to.” ______________ He had hot recognized Joan's uni form beneath the cloak. She gave him her card and went into the waiting room. There the sense of the terror which made that place its domain, the accumulated fears of all who had ever waited there for the approaching ver dict, seemed to leap out at her. Then Joan heard Lancaster’s voice in the next room, which was divided from be waiting room by folded doors. It was audible as a ‘•bass rumble, emerging occasionally into a distinguishable sound. Lancaster was talking with somebody, and lie was growing angry. That was an ill omen of what was to come! Joan braced her nerves. She was anything but a coward, and. having made up her mind, she intended to carry her scheme through. Suddenly Lancaster’s voice was raised In violent altercation. ‘‘A nice mess you've made of every thing!" he cried, I've tolerated you too long. I've been a fool, but I've finished with you now. Go back where you came from!’’ Another voice spoke in indistinct, tones. ' It was -that of a man, and It was almost abject In contrast with Lancaster's violence. “I’ve finished with you, 1 .ell you!” cried Lancaster. ' "I’ve borne this bur den-long enough. You can get out of my house. You can get out of my life." * "I’ve borne It long enough, too,” re piled the other, doggedly. “Who started it? Who made the first pro posal?” “I did, out of kindness to you. And how have you repaid me?’ "By placing myself, soul and body, at your service,’’ retorted the second man, aroused Into some show of spirit. “Who picked you out of the gutter and set you on your feet?” rejoined the doctor. “Answer that 1 Yon can’t 1 You know you can’t! Where would you be today If It were not for me?” The second man said something in a low voice. retorted Jr “Mv..rs 7 Lancaster. ui * inf i i V I tell yon— whnts that/ The white attendant was speaking at the door. Joan reo ognized hls rasping voice. “No! No 1” tried Lancaster, vio lently.' “I see nobody, why can't these women come during my hours? Aren’t they posted plainly enough cjmn the card In my window? Tell (To Be Continued) Moonlight u __ and Mockingbird Late ln the Ml * ht ^ ro ™ t ** e l 14>,nt the tip-top twig of the tall eBt tre *> f ^ e P olnt above the erossanws 0 telephone po e *** p<?ak of ’ ,e bam—flits a mockingbird, pouring tor J^ hls S “ B *’ The . m W ,_ K "? ellwl by r,d< a * d< “ «*“*?• cat * drap0 * *• 8I,Rent n anrf shrouds the valley. Rest, peace pos sesses all, a silence deep, broken only by the voice of the wonderful bird. Hls music rises and falls, Ailing the hours with melodies rare and sweet, and hav lag for accompaniment the soft sound of dewdrops falling from the points of the leaves on the Balm of Gilead trees, Historic Battle - The name Battle of the Giants la given to a battle fought at Marignano {now Malegnana), near Milan, Septem ber 13-14, 1515, between the allied French ' and Venetian forces tinder Francis I of France, and the Italians and Swiss, commanded by the duke of Milan. The battle was hotly contested and resulted ln a victory for Francis. The total number of slain Ik said to have exceeded 20,01)0. Trlvulalo, who had been present at 18 pitched battles, called them all child’s play as com pared with this "battle of giants.” Will Be Record Bridge Wliat la to be the largest arch bridge In the world, costing more than $15,000,000. will be constructed across the harbor at Sydney, Australia. The total length will be 3,700 feet, more than half a mile, while the single arch In the center will have a span of 1,650 feet. The head from high water will be 170 feet, allowing the largest ocean liners to pass beneath. —Popular Science Monthly. Wise John Mrs. Grnbb—I can tell w it ho ut as k ing whether John has won or lost at poker the minute he comes home. Mrs. Gabb—How? “If he has lost, he throw* hie trousers across the foot of the bed. If he has won, he puts them under hls pillow." J Author’s Cl Howlers'* A musician who reads fiction with it critical eye for references to his own art, lias discovered two amusing “howlers - ’ in a rime! by Alexandre Dumas. “In La f 'emnve nu Collier de Vejours," it is said of a violinist “the curve of ids ho-.v was pronounced enough to enable him to play on all four strings simultaneously," and It is gravely stated of another character that “tiie compass of tier voice wa* five octaves and ii half!” Be Sure You're. Right “Nothing venture, nothing runs the ndage, but first take stock of yourself and make sure your pur pose is right. Thus you will needless risk ami justify of your energy. Herein- Mob the cret of success in Grit. SHERIFF’S riALE GEORGIA —Spalding county. Will be sold before the house door, the usual place of ing court, in and for said on the first Tuesday in 1924, and from <Tay to day until goods are disposed of, the described property, to-wit: 50 of land in Mt. Zion district Spalding county, Georgia, being strip off the nqrth portion of lots Nos. 92 and 93, containing acres, bounded on the north by lots Nos. 68 and 69, on the east public road, on the south by lands Jasper Seagraves and on the by lands of Yarbrough. Levied on and sold as the property W. I. Watson to satisfy a fi. fa. sued from the City court of vs. W. I. Watson. Tenant in session legally notified. W. T. FREEMAN, Sheriff. DIIINEIIlit The Struggle Discourages^W any » Citizen of Grffiin Around all day with an aching back Can’t rest at night; Enough to make any one "give out” Doan’s Pills are helping thousands, thousands. They are for kidney backache; And other kidney ills. Ask your neighbor. i Here is Griffin proof of their mer it: W. Pickering, grocer, 8L3 W. Poplar St., gave the following state n ? en ^ March 5®, 1918: “I had cut ln ? P®*** 8 across the small of my , back and they worked their <*> head. 1 had way up and ™y severe headache* wa * *° oervous I felt all un strung. I saw Doan’s Pills highly re commended and procured some at the Evans Pharmacy. Doan’s quickly relieved me and made me feel better in oveiY way.” 0n November 18, 1921, Mr. Pick er |ptf added: “Doan’s Pills to conftm always 5^iMtX” » Foster-Milbnm PAGE ISM Directory Wi- •si ,wi WARREN LODGE Mo. a), I, O. 0. F., meets every Monday night at 7:30 at Warren Lodge Hall. Visiting brothers cor iiallp invited. R. A. PEEL, Secretary. W. T. ATKINSON, N. G. MERIDIAN SUN LODGE No. 26, P. & A. M. Regular meeting Tuesday night, October 7th, 7 o’clock. Note change in hour. Visitors welcome. 0. H. Scales, W. M. Bill Wells. Sec. w. o. w. Meets every Thursday, 7:30 p. m. Sovereigns, your camp needs your presence. You will find your Clerk »11 times at Slaton Powell Clo. Co. Visiting Sovereigns welcome. Come. L. J. SAULEY, C. C. C. C. STANLEY, Clerk. Pythagoras No. Chapter, 10, R. A. M. Regular meeting, Second and Fourth Thursday, 7:30 p. ra. Visitors wei tome. WM. T. ATKINSON, H. P. RD.L WELLS, Secretary. . Ben Barrow Lodge No. 587 F. & A. M. Next meeting Oct. 2nd. L. B. GUEST, W. M. CLIFFORD GRUBBS, Secty. fioii HjkifjHia Ftfneral Directory HAISTEN BROS. CO. FUNERAL DIRECTORS AND EMBALMERS Griffin and Senoia, Georgia Office Phone 575. Res, Phone 63 FRANK S. PITTMAN Funeral Director and Embalmer Office Phone 822. Rea. Phone 6& E. D. FLETCHER Embalmer and Funeral Director With Griffin Mercantile Co. Office Phone 474 Rea. Phone 481 Y P. E. ARNALL G. N. MURRAY P. E. Arnall & Co. Insurance of All Kinds We Would Appreciate Your Business J. C. BROOKS O. S. TYUS * Railroad Schedule * CENTRAL OF GEORGIA RY. Arrival and Departure of Passenger Trains at Griffin, Ga. The schedules are published as infor mation and are not guaranteed: North South 2:29 p.m. Altanta-SavTi 11:06 p.m. 4:30 a.m. Atlanta-Sav’h 9:07 a.m. 5:47 a.m. Chigo-Cin-Jax 11:55 p.m. 6:53 a.m. Chigo-St. L.-Jax 8:42 p.m. 9:01 a.m. Atlanta-Macon 5:20 pjn. 12:25 fi.m. Atlanta-Macon 2:17 p.m. 5:57 p.m. Atlanta-Albany 12:19 a.m. t Chattanooga Division From: For: 2:30 p.m. Chattanooga 9:45 a.m. 8:15 a.m. Cedartown 5:25 p.m. SOUTHERN RAILWAY From: For: „ Atlanta points— 5:58 p.m. East—-West 10:02 a. 10:02 a.m. Collms-Ft.Valley 5:63 pj FOR SALE 1 two story granite building on N. Hill street with three fronts on Hill street. 1 10-room house on S. Hill street. This one of the fin est homes in Griffin, with east front. 2 Bungalows on Oak st. 3 houses on Raymond st. I house on south Eighth s f Phone 303 and 1028 T. EZRA MANN 104 % S. Hill St.