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The Honorable Uncle Lancy
By ETHEL HUESTON
C Bobbi-M«nIII Co. WNU S,fv,e *
THE STORY THUS FAB
l*ft orphans by a tragic automobile accident which claimed the live* of their
mother and father, throe sisters, Helen, Adele and “Limpy," are visited by their
Aunt Olympia, politically minded wife of Senator Alencon Delaporte Slopshlre.
She Insists that the girls return with her to Washington, to malba their home
with them. In addition to loving the girls, Aunt Olympia knows they will be a
terrific political asset. Senator Slopshtre has as his political opponent one Brother
Wilkie, a. minister, whose political campaign Is furthered by seven “unspeakable
brats 1 ' who sit on the rostrum with him while he makes speeches. Aunt Olympia
and the Senator, kind and loving, nevertheless know that their three nieces will
mean votes for the Senator. Senator Slopshlre. a pleasantly foggy Individual who
depends on tha astuteness of his wife, prepares for their coming. Though Limpy.
the youngest, Is 18, and Helen, the oldest, Is 21, the Senator buys them all the toys
and gifts he can find, feeling that “children” should be occupied. When they first
meet their “Uncle Lancy," as he Is to be known, the girls take him to their united
bosom. Soon Adele, most beautiful of the sisters, meets Len Hardesty, publicity
man for Brother Wilkie, Though It Is Len's Job to help defeat the Senator, he
piornptly falls In love with Adele. Olympia buys an automobile house-trailer which
will accommodate the five of them, and from which the Senator will campaign.
Then she decides to hire a publicity agent for yie Senator, securing the services
of Dave Cooper.
CHAPTER IV—Continued
— 7—
“How can I drum up votes for the
Governor,” continued Len, “if I’m
going to be upset over the Opposition
all summer? Do you want to nip the
budding career of a rising young
genius?”
“I’d love to. If you consider your
self a budding genius, which most
people don’t. Thanks, Len. I’ll call
him first thing in the morning.”
“You’ll call him? . . . Haven’t
you called him! Haven’t you cinched
it? . . . Thanks for that, my dar
ling old dragon!” he said, a ray of
light breaking over his face. “I’ll
land him first. I know every sofa
he sits on . . , Tough luck, old
dear; the Governor’s hiring an es
cort for the brats if he has to add
an extra per cent to pay for him.
Good-by, dear beautiful angel,” he
said to Adele. “For your sake, I
tear myself away to corral that
menace ’•
The girls get quite motionless un
til he had dashed from the room.
Aunt Olympia contentedly lighted a
cigarette.
“Are—you going to let him get
away with it?” gasped Adele.
“My dear,” said Aunt Olympia,
“in politics you never allow grass
to grow where the Opposition is go
ing to plant his foot. I tried to get
Cecil this morning but he is up in
New York writing up that model
murder case for the tabloids. If
Len Hardesty knows every sofa in
Manhattan, he’s had entirely too
much experience to associate with
you—my dears.”
CHAPTER V
On the next morning at eleven
o’clock. Aunt Olympia received Ce
cil Dodd in the sitting room. She
received him alone, having with dif
ficulty hardened her heart to the
girls’ importunities, for they, eager
curiosity doubly whetted by the unit
ed opposition of Uncle Lancy and
Len Hardesty and by Aunt Olym
pia’s defense, were eager for a
glimpse of him. Aunt Olympia, for
the only time, withstood their pleas.
Even Limpy’s “Aw, Aunt Olympia,”
did not move her.
“I’ve been thinking of our talk the
other day,” she began at once. “Did
I understand you to say you would
like to try your hand at campaign
ing?”
“I’m crazy to,” he said boyishly,
“I’ve applied for a job every place
under the sun, but nobody will take
me because I have no experience;
and how the deuce can I get experi
ence when nobody will try me out?
. . . Maybe you could give me a
recommendation,” he suggested.
“No, I can’t do that,” she said
flatly. “I don’t know whether you’re
any good or not and I'm careful
about my recommendations. But
maybe I could give you a job—a
very small job, of course. But it
would be a starter.”
Cecil Dodd was so surprised he
couldn’t say a word. Refuse a rec
ommendation—and give him a job!
It seemed almost unethical.
“Experience is worth more than
money,” he murmured, devoutly.
“Not to us,” she admitted. “Any
how it’ll be something and we’ll pay
your expenses, and if anybody can
teach you the racket, Dave Cooper
can . . . With some help from me
. . . You see, Cece, this isn’t like
tire usual campaign. We’ve got our
young nieces with us and we’re go
ing to take them along. Those girls
are going to be our best asset in
this campaign and we want some
one—not quite so hard-boiled as
Dave—to do full justice to their vote
appeal. And since the girls will be
around constantly, we’d like some
one of agreeable disposition and—
some social experience—to be a sort
of companion to them. And we think
you’ll do all right. You’ll take or
ders from Dave, of course, and do
what he tells you and go where
you’re sent. But your main job will
be handling our end of the game.”
Cecil Dodd was boyishly delight
ed. When the first moment of rev
erent and worshipful awe had
passed he found voice again.
“Mis. Slopshire,” he said earnest
ly, “I’ll work like a dog; I’ll work
day and night.”
Having come to this amicable
agreement, Aunt Olympia asked
him to stay and meet the girls. He
accepted the invitation gratefully
but Aunt Olympia could see that his
mind was less on them than on the
great opportunity which a bounte
ous Heaven had so surprisingly be
stowed upon him. He responded
courteously to the introductions but
seemed not even to notice Adels’s
•yes.
“Not as good a reporter as Len
Hardesty,” thought Aunt Olympia.
“Len hasn’t overlooked a lash.”
The girls, considerably to their
surprise, found him pleasant, even
likable, and a decided contrast to
the explosively verbose Len Hardes
ty. He was slight in build, not tall,
but lithe, with a suggestion of mus
cular strength in his easy move
ments. His voice was low, almost
diffident, his smile boyishly win
some. He dressed with that studied
and expensive carelessness that is
so revealing to the practiced eye.
“Well, you may as well begin
now as anytime,” said Aunt Olym
pia. “Take a memorandum, will
you?”
He hastened to comply, drawing
out his fountain pen and a small,
elegant date book in limp leather.
“Remind the Senator—or remind
me to remind him—to be sure to
write up and tell the farmer at
Shires—that’s our place up home—
to have an extra suit of farm clothes
for the Senator to borrow when he
speaks at the Granges.”
The girls talked him over when
he had gone. They agreed that Len
Hardesty had been unjustly preju
diced and that Cecil was a nice boy
and they could stand having him
around. They thought his eager en
thusiasm for the job rather pathetic.
“Yes, it’s pathetic," assented
Aunt Olympia. “Cece is all right.
The trouble is that he’s always been
able to do what he wanted to in
stead of what he had to. He has
enough money to live on, so he’s nev
er had to file his nose on the grind
stone. It takes grindstone to make
a newspaper man.”
“He’s really what you would call
a sweet child,” Helen wrote to Brick
Landis. “He seems so young and
so unspoiled, and yet Aunt Olympia
says he’s had his own way all his
life and had everything he has ever
wanted. He is taking this job with
such deadly seriousness that she is
beginning to fear he will neither
amuse us nor drive Len Hardesty
mad, which was her main object.
He began bringing up huge volumes
on politics to get Aunt Olympia’s
opinion of them, but she stopped
that. She said he could get his opin
ions from her and Dave Cooper. He
has bought a new, perfectly gor
geous, simply huge, brief case and a
new portable typewriter. And when
ever he is not sitting raptly in the
Senate gallery gazing down at his
candidate and taking notes of ev
ery breath he draws, he is at the
Press Club trying to make ‘con
tacts.’ I just wonder, Brick, if you
take politics seriously enough. You
didn’t pay thirty dollars for a brief
case and buy a new typewriter.”
Aunt Olympia went with Helen
and Adele one afternoon to a large
cocktail party—the invitations had
said “tea.” It was at the home of
an outstanding Republican senator;
they remembered that later, with
some bitterness. Adele, left alone
for a few minutes, was approached
by a man, comparatively young,
quite handsome, whom Adele in
stinctively labeled “a foreigner of
some eort.”
“I met you just after you came
in, Miss Rutherford,” he said pleas
antly. “I am Gabriel d’Allotti. I
couldn’t possibly expect you to re
member me in that crowd and that
confusion, but by the same token,
you could not possibly expect me
not to remember you in any crowd
or any confusion. You are unfor
gettable.”
Adele smiled pleasantly. But she
remembered Len Hardesty’s warn
ing, “Beware of embassies and at
taches!”
“Are you with one of the embas
sies?” she asked.
“Alas, no! I have no such impor
tance. I am just a young man try
ing to get along. But I know the
embassy crowd and have friends
among them, so I get around. May
I bring you a drink?”
“Not now, thanks.”
“To tell the truth, I am one of
about a million foreigners trying to
get the true American picture. I
do free-lance correspondence for a
few foreign papers and magazines,
and naturally I am collecting my
impressions for a book on America.”
“If you get the American picture,
you see better than I do,” she ad
mitted. “It looks a hodgepodge to
me. Like modern painting. You
can’t tell whether that pink splash
is a lady’s arm or a platter of fried
liver with onions! And then it turns
out to be a bunch of grapes.”
He laughed appreciatively. “I find
the same difficulty, both with art
and with America. But I am young
and brave. 1 shall die struggling.
HOUSTON HOME JOURNAL, PERRY, GEORGIA
Do you like Washington?”
‘‘Oh, very much.”
‘‘Of course you get the right slant
on it,” he conceded. ‘‘lt helps a
good deal to be on the inside looking
out and around, instead of, as I am,
on the outside, waiting my turn at
the knothole.”
‘‘Oh, but that’s my trouble! I’m
on the outside, too.”
‘‘You can’t be far outside in the
home of Senator Slopshire. He
knows his America. I have often
wondered about your senators. Do
they act at home as they do on the
floor?”
“Um, something the same. Uncle
Lancy wipes his glasses; and
blushes through his thinning hair
when he is flattered.”
“But what does he talk about?
Does he merely say, as I would,
how very beautiful you are? Does
he complain about the eggs being
overdone? Does he read his
speeches to you?”
Adele laughed. “He reads them
to Helen, but she asked for it,”
she admitted. “Helen is trying to
learn politics from the ground up.
She is my older sister.”
“Dear me, is she going to run for
something?”
“Maybe. Anyhow, she made up
her mind to learn it. She goes to
committees and reads the Congres
sional Record and at night they go
to the library and argue for hours—
over how many air defense guns
are required here and there, and
whether peace is preserved by more
armaments or by disarming, and
which end of a boat is the proper
" tQ. * z/
“Why, that’s Gabriel d’Allotti!”
place to put guns and how many
times the new destroyers can be
torpedoed before they blow up—all
that sort of thing.”
“Dear me! It sounds quite horrify
ing. Doesn’t he expound it all to
you, too?”
“Oh, no. I don’t listen. Limpy
and I don’t care for that sort of
thing. We just pick out the best
nu\.s and think of other things.”
“Simply profound of you, I should
say. More important things! Like,
wherYs your yellow basket?”
“Oh, nothing half as profound as
that. I'i we lost our yellow basket,
Uncle L«ncy would demand a con
gressional investigation and get it
back for Us.”
Gabriel d’Allotti went away pres
ently. He had not seen Helen be
fore. Naturally, seeing Adele, one
looked no further. He did not make
the mistake of asking Adele to point
out her sister. He was not so clumsy
as that. He asked someone else, a
stranger, where she was—Senator
Slopshire’s niece. The stranger, be
ing a man, pointed to Adele.
“No, I mean the other one; the
studious one; her sister.”
“Oh, yes, there is another one
. . . Let’s see . . . Oh, there she is;
over by that window. The tall girl
in the black hat and veil.”
Gabriel d’Allotti introduced him
self to Helen. “I’ve been having a
delightful chat with your very love
ly sister,” he said with engaging
candor. “She tells me that you and
I have a great deal in common; that
we are a pair of young innocents
in the primary department of the
big college of politics.”
“Oh, I’m not up to the primary
department yet,” said Helen. “I’m
still in the cradle. But I am trying
so hard to understand things—and
making very little headway.”
“We must collaborate,” he said.
"We are having the same trouble.
We have learned the ‘c,’ and the
‘a,’ and the ‘t’; now we must digest
our wisdom and combine it into'
‘cat.’ Perhaps two digestions, like
heads, are better than one.”
“It sounds promising,” she said.
“I confess that half the time I just
listen and frown and don’t even try
to digest it. I keep hoping one ac
quires it gradually, like suntan,
from persistent application. Per
haps between us we could get the
‘c’ and the ‘a’ and the ‘t’ into a lit
tle kitten, at least, if not into a full
grown cat to begin with.”
“It’s a bargain,” h* said heartily,
shaking hands with her. “I shall go
at once and make diplomatic over
tures to your aunt.”
Inside of flve minutes he had Aual
Olympia’s attention.
“Mrs. Slopshire,” he said ingrati
atingly, “it is only fair to inform
you, in strictest confidence, that I
have been completely enchanted
with your very lovely niece. How
does one go about getting permis
sion to call?”
“One comes to tea.”
“Pardon my persistence. How
soon does one come?”
“Tomorrow. It will be nice to
have you. We’re living very quietly
of course—almost in seclusion—be
cause of that terrible tragedy but I
do want the girts to pick up what
amusement they can.”
“I’ll be at my most humorous, I
promise you. I’ll go around and
collect some good stories for them.”
“Don’t!” she ejaculated. “If
you’re hearing the same ones I am,
they are not fit for their young ears.
Bring yourself—and leave your rep
ertoire at home.”
“Who’s that man?” she asked,
turning to a friend who stood near.
“That one—making tracks for the
punch bowl. With too much lotion
on his hair.”
“That? Why, that’s Gabriel d’Al
lotti! You must know him. He goes
everyplace.”
“Oh, yes, I know him all right.
But I’ve had so much trouble with
that Alencon that I try not to pick
up any foreign names . . . Gabriel
d’Allotti . . . Yes, I know him.”
“He is very interesting,” Helen
wrote to Brick Landis a couple of
weeks later. “And isn’t it strange
that he hasn’t fallen in love with
Adele? Well, he certainly has en
livened my study of the American
system. He disagrees with me on
nearly everything. He has the for
eign idea of maintaining peace—
that is, by bigger and better arma
ments. You’d almost think he was
going to take out naturalization pa
pers, he gets so wrought-up over
America’s lack of preparedness.
“To tell the truth he knows a lot
more than I do about the American
system, though he doesn’t approve
of most of it. He comes to the
house quite often and once he went
with me to one of Uncle Lancy’s
committees and we did agree on
one thing: that it is mighty hard
for a dozen men sitting around a
table to agree on a policy to save
the nation; especially when the plan
goes from them to the Senate, then
to the House, back to the Senate,
and back to conference again; and
when they do finally agree on some
thing, there’s still the White House
to reckon with.
“You needn’t worry, darling. He
hasn’t the suggestion of a crush on
me. You can’t fool women about
that. Sometimes we think they have
when they haven’t, but we never
think they haven’t when they have.
We’re not that dumb. But we are
both interested in the same thing#
and it really is more exciting to
argue with him than with Uncle
Lancy. Uncle Lancy’s always afraid
of hurting my feelings, and Mr.
d’Allotti isn’t. But he isn’t my type.
I like ’em red headed and a bit
roughed up,
“Oh, Brick, the session is nearly
over and nothing has happened!
Wouldn’t you think one really big
thing—an important thing—might
happen while I am here, so I could
get a glimpse beneath the surfac»?’ r
CHAPTER VI
Early in May, Aunt Olympia de
cided it was time for the assist
ant director of publicity, Cecil Dodd,
to begin sending stories to the home
papers. Olympia, who was an inde
fatigable maker of notes, had a list
of “points” ready to start the cam
paign on her own and the girls’ be
half; the Senator, except for inci
dental remarks in passing, was to
be left to Dave Cooper. So she sent
for Cecil and, at their laughing in
sistence on its educational value,
permitted the girls to listen in.
"Now, you see, Cece,” began
Olympia, with great gusto, “politics
is an elaborate and intricate sys
tem of build-up. That’s all. Just
build-up.”
Cecil took his limp leather loose
leaf notebook from his mono
grammed thirty-dollar brief case
and, with a U. S. Senate pencil the
Senator had given him made a note
of “build-up.”
“A lot of it has to be done in ad
vance because it must be gradual.
An untimely climax gums up the
works. It has to be a gradual as
cent to the wind-up. Dave, as you
know, is already at work building
up the Senator’s record and so forth
but we women of the Senator’s
household must have our domestic
build-up. The woman-vote, you
know. Though a lot of males fall
pretty hard for that domestic an
gle, too.”
Cecil, raptly attentive, made e
note of “domestic angle.”
“Now, in the first place, you must
announce that certain salient fact#
were gleaned from Mrs. Slopshire in
an interview . . . This is an inter
view . . . I’m going to answer th#
questions you would ask me if you
had enough experience. Now, in an
swer to what should be your first
question, I reply, with deep feeling,
no, we have not as yet given a mo
ment’s thought to the coming cam
paign. That is left to the future.
We—the Senator and I— are so hap
py in having these dear children
with us, our home life is so full, so
serene—Never say ‘exciting,’ Cece,
for your life I Say ‘satisfying.’ Our
home life is so serene, so satisfy
ing—you might say serenely sati#-
fying, if you like—that so far ws
have been entirely wrapped up ia
quiet family interests.”
(TO BE CONTINUED)
OP?. SEW
&r~ Ruth Wyeth Spears
Z legs,mirror7t|'
I Jfr 4 I door CARVING
AND HANDLES <
Rfy EDCSD WERE REMOVED*
/" SCREW HOLES
_J / FILLED WITH
PUTTY* PLAIN
KNOBS AND I.
n mmm i * base ° p i"x4"
SiSSi > I LUMBER ADDED*
HWHj CHEST PAINTED
ggg blue to match
V'OU have heard quite a good
deal in these articles about
Grandmother, who is just “Gram”
to her family. Also about her
favorite grandson, Bill, and his up
and-coming bride, Marty the
same for whom Gram made the
stunning rag rug in Sewing Book
3. Then there is Bill’s kid sister,
Betsy, who streamlined the old
iron bed illustrated in Book 3. You
all know “Mom,” too. She has be
come almost famous because of
her curtains and slip-covers and
“The Rug That Grew Up With the
Family.” And there is “Dad”
who is handy with hammer, saw
and screw driver.
Well, recently the family have
“ganged-up” on Gram about her
fancy out-of-date buffet. They
think she deserves and can afford
ASK ME M A Quiz With Answers |
A MOTUTTD f formation
AINUI IiLIL I on Various Subjects
The Questions
1. What men besides Pershing
core the title “general of the
armies”?
2. What state was the first in the
Union to grant equal suffrage to
women?
3. What day of the month is the
penultimate day?
4. What does the abbreviation
“q. v.” stand for?
5. What are the four living an
thropoid (man-like) apes?
6. In the boxing classifications
which one is the lightest weight?
7. How are the names of our
first line battleships chosen?
8. What line follows: “Shoot if
you must this old gray head”?
9. What makes the Mexican
jumping bean jump?
10. Why does a holly bush have
thorny leaves near the ground and
smooth ones higher up?
The Answers
1. Washington, Grant and Sher
man.
2. Wyoming.
3. Next to the last.
4. The Latin “quod vide,” mean
ing “which see.”
5. Gibbons, chimpanzees, orang
utans, and gorillas.
6. Flyweight (112 pounds).
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A CYCLE OF HUMAN BETTERMENT
Advertising gives you new ideas,
/ \ and also makes them available
to you at economical cost. As these
new ideas become more accepted,
prices go down. As prices go down,
more persons enjoy new ideas. It
is a cycle of human betterment, and
it starts with the printed words
of a newspaper advertisement,
JOIN THE CIRCLE READ THE ADS
v
something new. Gram decided to
get rid of the buffet, then Marty
said that she wanted it! This sketch
shows you one of the things she
and Bill did with it. Watch next
week for what became of the mir
ror and legs.
NOTE: That is white rick-rack
that trims the blue chambray cur
tains and slip-cover. The chair
is the one made over from an old
rocker described in the new Book
5. To get your copy send order to:
MRS. RUTH WYETH SPEARS
Drawer 10
Bedford Hills New York i
Enclose 10 cents for Book 5.
Name
Address
7. From the states.
8. “But spare our country's
flag,” she said.
9. The bean moth larva inside.
10. Holly grows thorny leaves
near the ground to protect itself
from browsing animals. Branches
beyond their reach often producs
perfectly smooth leaves.
Played Her Part
The only person who ever played
a part on the screen that she had
played in real life in a famous
historical event was Madame Ada
Bodart, declares Collier’s. In 1915
she underwent much questioning
by German army officers about her
friend, Nurse Edith Cavell. In
1927 she played the part of herself
in the British film, “Dawn,” which
was the story of this English nurse
who was executed for having
helped Allied soldiers escape from
Belgium.
MOROLINE
WORLD'S LARGEST SELLER at St
True Dignity
True dignity is never gained by
place, and never lost when honors
are withdrawn.—Massinger.
