Houston home journal. (Perry, Houston County, Ga.) 1924-1994, August 22, 1940, Image 2

Houston home journal., August 22, 1940, Image 2

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Newspaper Page TextThe Honorable Unde Lancy By ETHEL HUESTON O Bobbt-Merrill Co. WNU S.rvlc« CHAPTER Vlll— Continued —lo— wonder Gabriel knew more about things than I do,” Helen said. “I’d know things too, if I were paid a salary for learning them. I’m afraid he wasn’t the old palsy-walsy I thought him; he didn’t tell me what he was finding out.” Even Aunt Olympia thought it was amusing. She said she wasn’t at all surprised; she declared that half the ambassadors and all of the dip lomats in Washington were spies. She said, “I give you my word, be fore I go to an embassy reception I take the safety pins out of the broken straps on my slip and have Hilda sew them on. I’m too proud to have foreign spies looking through me at those safety pins.” “It’s an outrage,” said the Sen ator, bristling all over with Ameri canism. “They ought to be shot.” “Not just for looking at a safety pin, Del, surely,” said Aunt Olym pia. On the next Sunday Len Hardesty arrived at Shires, too late for church but in ample time for dinner. “I’m supposed to be down in Washington touching the Committee for more funds,” he explained cheer fully. “We’re running short. In fact, we’re low. We were reduced to hamburgers last night, though I see you have an abundance of fried chicken here. Farley must be do ing all right by you.” “You’d better get along down to Washington,” said Aunt Olympia, “or you’ll be reduced to canned dog food.” When dinner was over the Sena tor begged to be excused; he had important work on hand. Aunt Olympia got up and walked off; she was going to take a nap, but whose business was it? Helen had letters to write and Limpy took the box of nuts and the funny papers and went out to the porch. Adele and Len Hardesty, thus considerately left alone, wandered down through the garden and on out into the or chard where they selected a big ap ple tree, far removed from the house and sheltered by a hedge, and sat down. For a long time they devoted themselves to the tender, personal things natural to a young couple very much in love, but eventually settled down to speak of other things, of politics, their daily activi ties, their hopes, their plans. “Oh, Lenl” Adele cried suddenly. “Wasn’t it exciting about Gabriel d’Allotti?” “Exciting! I don’t see anything exciting about it, but that they didn’t catch him months ago. Quote: ‘The lousy worm.’ End quote.” “But that he should turn out to be a spy I We never dreamed of such a thing! We've had no end of fun with Helen about it.” “With Helen?” “Don’t you remember? Gabriel d’Allotti was the man who spent all last spring studying the American system with Helen. 1 told you about It.” Len, who had just started to light a cigarette, paused suddenly, his hand in midair. “The American system! With Hel en," he repeated. “Oh, it was perfectly all right,” she said hastily. “There was noth ing flirtatious about it. Helen is dead serious about being engaged to Brick, you know . . .Shi It’s a surprise for Aunt Olympia . . . Ga briel said he was gathering material lor a book on the American picture and ho got Helen to help him. Though she says he knew more about it than she did. They used to argue for hours about pacificism and armaments and military pre paredness and all that. Why, he even warned her against Canada — in an indirect way. We call her the First Assistant Spy.” Len lit his cigarette slowly. “Did ahe see much of him?” “Oh, he was hardly ever out of our sight. He went every place we did—not with us I He just met us there by accident, the way you do. He came to the house three or four times a week, afternoons, mostly. “I see.” Len stood up. “Well, beautiful, I’ve got to be a-flying my self down to Washington, so don’t sit there blinking your lashes and looking lonesome, trying to get my mind off the salvation of the na tion. According to the papers, Slop py is taking a few days off to rest his corns. Will you be here the rest of the week?” “Till Thursday. It isn’t for Un cle Lancy’s corns. It’s so Hilda can get us mended and laundered and fed. It's terrible cooking in that trailer. We all have to work at »nce, you know, for the sake of the photos, and there’s not room for three. Our digestions pay the pen alty.” “I’ll be over before Thursday. Thank Ollie for the chicken . . . Hamburgers! . . . And to think if It hadn’t been for the shortsighted *ess, the hopeless inefficiency of old Sloppy, I’d be with you on fried chicken instead of over there with the brats on hamburger.” Aunt Olympia, shrewd as she was, could not understand Cecil Dodd. In the beginning, though she had cer tainly made it clear that as assistant director of publicity he was chiefly to take care of the woman angle, he had flung himself into the campaign with such assiduity that she could I hardly get hold of him long enough to take the girls horse-back riding. Dave Cooper assured her the kid was doing all right, that there was real stuff back of his gentle smile, but Aunt Olympia felt that her plan had been somewhat of a failure. Now suddenly all this was changed. Cecil had become übiquitous, con stantly underfoot, as Olympia com plained. When Dave, who had come to rely on him, flatly ordered him off on certain missions, he went, but with reluctance. “He’s beginning to miss the so fas,” said the Senator sympatheti cally. “That’s the worst thing about cushions—-they become habitual.” “Oh, I knew he couldn’t keep it up,” grumbled Aunt Olympia. “These fireworks that go off with the biggest explosion always sput ter out first.” Still, Dave assured her, once he was dragged away from the insidi ous comforts of Shires or the clubby attractions of the trailer entourage, he worked both hard and well; “like a dog,” Dave said; “and does what he's told.” On Saturday when the cavalcade returned to Shires for rest and reno vation, Dave said he and Cece would go to town and do some intensive groundwork at Headquarters. Cece objected; objected gently, but firm ly. He said he needed rest and renovation as much as anybody. “Call up Headquarters and tell ’em we’re coming,” said Dave firm ly. Aunt Olympia gave him his hat. On Sunday, except for the visit of Len Hardesty, which they had come to expect, the day was rest fully calm and quiet. And then, on Monday evening, as they were hav ing coffee in the cool of the east veranda, Hilda announced disap provingly. “It’s Mr. Dodd on the ’phone and he wants Miss Limpy.” You could have knocked Aunt Olympia down with a feather. She said so herself, at least a hundred times in the days that followed. She couldn’t open her mouth. She just sat, as if she had indeed been knocked there. Limpy ran back from the tele phone. “Oh, Aunt Olympia, Cece says the Young Democrats are get ting up a dance rally at the Fire House and if he comes and gets me and drives carefully and brings me back early, may I go?” Aunt Olympia, still suffering from the feather-blow, couldn’t speak. “Would you like to go, girls?” asked the Senator mildly. "Did he invite all of us, Limpy?” asked Adele significantly. “Um—ah—well —ah—perhaps not specifically. I’ll go and ask him, shall I? He only mentioned me—a small party, I believe.” Aunt Olympia came to. “You can’t go,” she said in a strangled voice. “You can’t go a step. And you needn’t say ‘Aw, Uncle Lancy,’ for I’m running this nursery and you can’t go.” “He says all right,” announced Limpy. “He doesn’t care about the dance. He says he’ll come over and make a report to the Senator.” “You call him right up, Del, and tell him to stay where he is and not interrupt our rest with any reports. You tell him to stay where he is and do as Dave tells him. Here I am, just getting somewhere with my ex temporaneous speech and now get ting all upset about lumpy . . . You call him right up, Del. Tell him when we want him we’ll send for him.” Aunt Olympia tried to still the under-chin with a few fierce jabs. “With a feather,” she mut tered feebly. On Tuesday morning, a surprising announcement temporarily distract ed her from her maternal anxiety. Every paper in the state announced that Governor Wilkie had suddenly decided the time was ripe for him to make the most important speech of the campaign over a nation-wide hook-up. He was quoted as saying that “certain dramatic develop ments in Washington had impelled him to alter his original schedule and since the revelations he was about to make concerned not only their sovereign state but the entire nation, he had arranged for the na tional audience.” The family at Shires discussed it at length over their breakfast. "It’s a fake,” said Aunt Olympia. “There’s nothing more he can say. He’s said everything already, and more, too.” “Maybe he has found some new words in the dictionary,” said Adele. “Do you suppose he’ll pause for applause so the listening world can hear the brats wave lollypops?” wondered Limpy. Before they left the table there was a call from Dave at Head quarters. “See the papers, Senator?” “Yes, what’s up?” “Nobody seems to know. But the reports are that their Headquarters are agog. They’ve hired a college professor to check the speech. May be we’d better come out and listen in with you so we can cock up an answer.” “Yes, do that. It’s a good idea,” said the Senator. When he remarked mildly that the boys were coming out to listen in with them and help frame his re ply, Aunt Olympia bounded clear out of h*r chair. HOUSTON HOME JOURNAL, PERRY, GEORGIA “You call him right back and tell him to leave Cece where he is!” she cried. “I can’t listen to speeches and look at that worm in the same breath.” “Adele, that’s the most perfectly mixed figure I ever heard in my life!” said Limpy admiringly. “It’s triple! It’s unique!” Aunt Olympia didn’t hear her. “My dear,” the Senator remon strated, “we can’t hurt the boy’s feelings. Dave says he’s working like a dog and making a good job of it, too.” “Why shouldn’t he? What is he, anyhow, but a dog, a yellow dog, too!” Aunt Olympia smiled ever so faintly in appreciation of herself. “I tell you what to say, Del. You tell Dave one of them had better stay there to get the general reaction to the Governor’s drivel—and Cece can stay—and Dave can come.” That sounding reasonable, the Senator started for the telephone. “You needn’t tell him it’s my idea,” said Olympia. “I’m willing you should take the credit.” The Governor began his speech with dignified and disarming mild ness. He explained that he had known the Senator for many years, as his friend, and, more recently, as Governor of his state. He made it very clear that, knowing him thus intimately, he could not brand the Senator as a wicked man, a vicious man, or a traitorous man. He was merely a hopeless inefficient, a cour teous, richly comfortable gentleman farmer; one who knew nothing of “I’ll be over before Thursday. Thank Ollie for the chicken.” the insidious intricacies of state craft; one who could be led as a lamb to the slaughter by those wis er, more subtle, more farseeing, than he. He said that hitherto—“l say hitherto”—he repeated sonor ously, the Senator had been saved from egregious and irreparable er ror by the firmly coercive hand of his party leaders. “I say ‘hitherto.’ I mean ‘hither to.’ This time, lacking coercive guid ance, he has fallen into error both egregious and irreparable. The Sen ator has denounced subversive, un- American activities. Orally, yes, he has denounced them. And in all fairness, my friends, I believe the Senator at heart is opposed to such activities. But, my friends, is the good Senator —and I believe him to be a good, if not a particularly in telligent, man—is the good Senator smart enough to recognize subvers ive activities when he meets them? When he encounters them in the luxurious drawing rooms, at the lav ish banquet tables, of Washington? When he entertains them in his own home, introduces them to his own friends? “It is this point on which we chal lenge the Senator! Who, during the last session of Congress, was one of the most constant and familiar visi tants in the Senator’s luxurious apartment in Washington? Who ate his food, drank his imported wine, danced with the women of his house hold? Who was their confidant? “On this point I challenge the Senator! Last week three handsome, ingratiating, polished young foreign ers were arrested in Washington as spies for foreign governments. They were educated men, of cultured tastes and training; they were well supplied with money; they wore cor rect clothes, did correct things, were gracious, suave and accepta ble. They were spies. One of these men was Gabriel d’Allotti. Today, Gabriel d’Allotti languishes in jail as a spy, while the Senator dines on squab and rich aspics in his stately mansion at Maysville, while cam paigning for re-election to his high office. “In Washington, this Gabriel d’Al lotti was one of the most confiden tial intimates of the family in their Shoreham apartment. The Senator was a member of the powerful com mittee on armaments. He is now on the Committee on Naval Af fairs that deals closely with mat ters of national defense. Gabriel d’Allotti is a spy. What is the con nection between these two? Why did they so constantly dine and wine to gether? „ , “My friends, I do not suggest—< nor do I believe—that my old friend the Senator would deliberately be tray his country and sell its secrets to any foreign, inimical nation. I know the Senator; he is my friend. He is an innocent, trustful, unsus pecting gentleman farmer, but sad ly lacking in political acumen and farsightedness. Are you to trust to handle the intricate problems of statecraft, to represent you in the Senate of the United States, a man who innocently, ingenuously—and most unwisely—receives as his inti mate a common spy? On these points, I challenge the Senator I Good night, and thank you.” The Senator was a good deal sur prised. Olympia, scarlet with rage, was at work on her under-chin. Adele and Limpy, who had become accustomed to charges and counter charges and knew there was nothing in them, snickered a little. But Hel en, who had turned dead white, twisted her slim hands nervously in her lap. “Who’s the wop? Ever hear of him?” asked Dave briskly. “Why, the girls have been talking about him! Yes, I must have met him.” “He never had dinner at our house in his life! He just came to call,” shouted Aunt Olympia. “How’d he get in?” persisted Dave. “I invited him,” said Olympia angrily. “He asked for it and I invited him.” “Oh, Uncle Lancy, it’s—all—my fault!” Helen stammered. “Not at all, not at all, my dear,” said the Senator soothingly. “Every body goes everywhere in Washing ton. Anybody calls on anybody. There’s no crime in that.” “He said he was—writing a book,” said Helen weakly. “Writing a book covers a multi tude of spies,” said Olympia. “Uncle Lancy, I—feel just terri bly,” wailed Helen. “Terribly, my dear? What non sense! There’s nothing to feel terri bly about. It doesn’t mean any thing. He can’t substantiate his charges. It’s just another red her ring he’s got hold of. It doesn’t mean a thing.” “Oh, yes, it does,” said Olympia grimly. “It means that louse, Len Hardesty, is buckling down to busi ness and we’ve got to mind our P’s and Q’s. He wrote that speech from beginning to end.” “Of course,” said the Senator. “And Dave’ll write me one tomor row that will show them up in great shape. They can look at my record. I’m clean—on that score, anyhow. Everybody is entertained in Wash ington, and you can’t go around at tea tables sorting sheep from goats. . . . Why, that fellow d’Allotti has even horned into the White House. Don’t worry, my dear. Dave will take care of it.” CHAPTER IX On Wednesday morning, after the Governor’s speech, they had hardly started their breakfast when sudden ly Aunt Olympia bounded onto the porch. She was in her dressing gown, very red of face, and had not taken time to remove the net from her permanent wave; nor to powder, although usually most punc tilious about her appearance before the girls. The Senator, his bath robe draped not too neatly about him, his thin hair standing up un brushed on a very pink head, was close at her heels. “Helen,” she said abruptly, “what in the world did you tell that man?” “What man, Aunt Olympia?” asked Helen. “That dastardly varmint, Gabriel d’Allotti.” “Gabriel d’Allotti!” repeated Hel en. “Why, I didn’t tell him any thing! He knew lots more than I did. I couldn’t tell him anything. I don’t know anything.” “There you see, my dear! Just as I said. She doesn’t know anything,” said the Senator triumphantly. Aunt Olympia looked up from the papers. Her eyes went first to Lim py, then to Adele and then to Helen. The three of them sat like one piece of sculpture, white of face, wide eyed, motionless. Tears came to Olympia’s eyes. Better betray the nation (and let the army save it, she thought treacherously) than lose these girls. “I didn’t mean to startle you, Helen,” she said cheerfully. “Del, ring for hot coffee . . . It’s nothing to worry about, girls, Limpy, you’d better eat your breakfast; your toast is getting cold. There’s nothing to it, of course, Helen; we know that.” “What is it?” Helen asked, with white lips. “What has happened?” “Oh, you know how those foreign ers are! They love the limelight, even when they’re in jail. Not like us Americans who commit our crimes confidentially . . . Fill their cups, Hilda! Del’s, too . . . Yon see, Helen, it seems he told the press that he got his informatics from you—” “From me!” “He did not!” cried Limpy pas sionately, “Of course not, darling. But nat urally the papers are making quite a splurge of it. They have your pic tures and—quite a lot of dope about you, and about us, too, for that matter. They’ve even got some pic tures of him juxtaposed among you; fakes, of course, but it gives the effect. He told the press it was you who told him about our nation al defenses.” “But I don’t know a thing about our national defenses,” cried Helen. “Except what I asked Uncle La» cy.” (TO BE CONTINUED) p % . IATTERND f; %w l/EPARTHFNf » —* ■ r O EMEMBER how nice you used to look and feel when you tripped oil to "school in a fresh white blouse with a sailor collar? Well, if you’re in the junior size range, you can take upon yourself that same naive, engaging charm, by making this frock with sailor collar and rows and rows of braid. Design No. 8738 has very soft and feminine lines, however sailorfied its spirit, because the skirt has smart unpressed front fulness and the blouse is gathered to round out your bustline. Carry out the nautical idea by making it up in blue chambray with white braid, white linen with navy braid, or beige with scarlet. Switch to something you’ll like! 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Pattern No. 8738 is designed for sizes 11, 13, 15, 17 and 19. Size 13 requires 4M> yards of 35-inch ma terial without nap; SVa yards braid. Send order to: SEWING CIRCLE PATTERN DEPT. Room 1331 211 W. Wacker Dr. Chicago Enclose 15 cents In coins tor Pattern No Size Name Address [household QUESTIONS [Mf' Clean paint brushes used for en ameling with turpentine. When used to shellac, clean with de. natured alcohol. ♦ * * Grass stains can easily be re moved from linens, cottons or white stockings by rubbing the stains with molasses before wash ing. * * * The backs of pictures should be inspected from time to time. If there are any holes in the paper, fresh pieces should be pasted over them, or dust will get in. * * * Delicate colors in washing ma terials will not fade if before be ing washed they are soaked in tepid water to which a few drops of turpentine have been added. ♦ ♦ ♦ When laundering curtains of voile, scrim or any material which has to be ironed, if they are folded so the selvage ends are together and ironed, they will hang per fectly even and straight. “TAKING THE COUNTRY BY STORM” 1/rllT ASK YOUR DEALER FOR -1(1. K hfy I The Outstanding BLADE VALUE I 111/ IXLII I 7 SingleorlO Double Edge Blades IU CUPPLES COMPANY, ST. LOUIS, MISSOURI Always a Duty Knowest thou not, that thou canst not move a step on this earth without finding some duty to be done, and that every man is useful to his kind by the very fact of his existence?—Carlyle.