Memphis World Memphis World Publishing Co. 1954-06-08 Mrs. Rosa Brown Bracy MEMPHIS WORLD AMERICAN'S STANDARD RACE JOURNAL The South's Oldest and Leading Colored Semi-Weekly Newspaper Published by MEMPHIS WORLD PUBLISHING CO. Every TUESDAY and FRIDAY at 164 BEALE — Phone 8-4030 Entered in the Post Office at Memphis, Tenn., as second-class mail under the Act of Congress, March 1, 1870 Member of SCOTT NEWSPAPER SYNDICATE W. A. Scott, II, Founder; C. A. Scott General Manager Mrs. Rosa Brown Bracy Acting Editor The MEMPHIS WORLD to an independent newspaper — non-sectarian and non-partisan, printing news unbiasedly and supporting those things it believes to be of interest to its readers and opposing those things against the interest of its readers. SUBSCRIPTION RATES: Year $5.00 — 6 Months $3.00 — 3 Months $1.50 (In Advance) Who Owns The South? When early Spanish explorers reached the mainland of Florida, with its sunny clime; beautiful palm groves and balmy atmosphere, the South began. Ponce Deleon came later to seek for the fountain of youth, which the Indian legends had proclaimed. A veritable tourist utopia, the mecca for millionaires, got off with a boom and ever since the South has been an added attraction to those who love long summers, with their magnetic charm of play and recreation and short winters with fruit ripening throughout the season. After the early settlements began on the Atlantic seaboard, the movement South became intensified; settlements sprung up like mushrooms, extending from Maine to Savannah and thence back across the southern center as far as Texas. For one cause or another, the people from England and France and other points in the old world began the settlement of states, which were divided and named as subdivisions, which today comprise the southern portion of the United States. Georgia might well be called the "Empire State of the South." It was settled by James Edward Oglethorpe as a haven for those who were confined to English jails for being unable to pay their debts. Settlers rapidly spread West, populating what is now known as Alabama, Louisiana, Mississippi, Louisiana and Texas. North Carolina, South Carolina, Virginia, Tennessee, Arkansas, Oklahoma and portions of the Dakotas, belong to the southern family. The South in her early stages, inherited Negro slavery. The climate was conducive to their health as well as those crops that might be grown with their toil. The extent that men will go in reprisal for what they dislike, might be sampled in the extreme position taken by Senator Maybank of South Carolina who would jeopardize the housing enterprises, which not only did he help to lay the groundworks, but was one of the top advisers in the movement. He put his finger on the fact that this was due to the attitude taken by the Supreme Court of the United States relative to knocking out segregation in public housing. Doubtless Senator Maybank represented people in South Carolina, not of his thinking, but he must have had the assurance that his land would "click" with enough people in that state to send him back to the Senate. The Senator may be right, but ah the irony of people who would rather stay out doors than dwell in the environs of their brothers of the blood and the faith who might have a darker hue than they. There must have been a housing shortage in Bethlehem, when Mary and "Joseph tramped all through the night hunting for a place for the Saviour to be Born. Whether this was the case or that they were a type excluded from their society would bring on more investigation. After all the birth of Christ was not prohibited, because of the lack of room at the inn, neither was the greatness to which. He was to come, marred by the fact that he was born where the tattle gave birth to their young and tender them such through the night in a stable. Through His sufferings and His death, may the ages and the South come into a richer heritage of tolerance, a new fatherhood of man and a more wholesome and richer brotherhood of man, There are still people in the slums who can find no room Senator. Again we ask — "Who owns the South?" Senator Flanders Sounds A Warning In a good currying over that the "Napoleonic-lock" McCarthy has richly earned, it was left for Senator Flanders, Republican of Vermont, that suave gentleman, of personal charm and the distinct dignity of age, to supply this long deserved lashing. It was done without name calling; it brought in no bitter rancor nor needed any of the biting aspersion of satire and sordid recriminations. Senator Flanders spoke the sentiments of the people; the people, weary with red herrings, senseless questioning and the apparent abuse of authority so muchly needed by a Senate investigating committee. The pity of it is that here would bring up the suggestion that some sort of cloture or stop-gap be set up as a precedent that might some day prove disastrous to our system of getting down to brass tacks through Senate investigating committees. The President of the United States has shown all along the type of statesmanship which becomes a democracy. He is careful about precedents and that is one of the loop-holes through which McCarthy makes his escapades. In the next place, the American people feel that this is no time to impugn the good offices of the Army and Army officers. They feel that valuable time is being wasted in these efforts, apparently timed to smear somebody or to relish the appetite of ambition for the sponsor. The grave accusation of "dividing his church and his party is a heavy pill for McCarthy to swallow. Further reducing McCarthy to the comic strip, "Dennis the Menace" in the funny papers, the sagacious Flanders proposed that McCarthy' relationship with Cohn and Schine be investigated also. This would be an investigation of the investigator. This might of course end in a dogfall, but at the same time, might also run somebody or something from hiding and end the whole caboodle. The American people anyway, feel that they have gotten a full run for the money in this McCarthy-Schine affair. At Last Homes Come To The People All over this country there is a building spurt never seen before. Despite the all time high prices in lumber and labor, building goes steadily on. There are thousands of people now either owning their home or, are on their way to ownership. The owning of a home has been placed within the reach of every wage earner who really wants a home. It can how be paid for like rent and it is the good old American way in which the home loving people are taking advantage of the opportunity. Even in the far rurals, where roads were bad, conditions intolerable and the farm was made uninviting because of the poor convenience afforded. There are modern homes with all the convenient appliances enjoyed by city dwellers. On the other hand, those who worked for generations as tenant formers, farming out the poor and unwanted soil, have come into the ownership of their farms through the Federal Farm Administration. It is no occasion for surprise to see along, the paved highways large pastures of live stock and modern farming in full blast. Tractors and other farm machinery have supplanted the old order of slow mule plowing. In fact, the farm has come into society and no more one feels that sting of chagrin when he says, "I live in the country." The American way of life is home ownership; the American people love home and the ambition to own one is inherent in nearly every individual. The government has gone a long way down the road in doing its part in assisting home and farm ownership. The people on the whole are taking advantage of the opportunity of coming into home ownership. LETTERS TO THE Editor To the Editor: I am writing the biography of President Dwight D. Eisenhower and shall be happy to hear from readers or the Dally World who may have anecdotes, jokes or stories dealing with our 33rd Chief Executive who received the Mark Twain Medal in 1953. CYRIL CLEMENS, Editor, Mark Twain Quarterly Kirkwood 22, Missouri Seeks Material On President Eisenhower To the Editor: I am writing the biography of President Dwight D. Eisenhower and shall be happy to hear from readers or the Dally World who may have anecdotes, jokes or stories dealing with our 33rd Chief Executive who received the Mark Twain Medal in 1953. CYRIL CLEMENS, Editor, Mark Twain Quarterly Kirkwood 22, Missouri Union Ready to Spend Money To Clean Industry President Earl W. Jimerson and Secretary-Treasurer Patrick E. Gorman of the Amalagamated Meat Cutters and Butcher Workmen of North America last week announced that their union is ready to spend one million dollars to clean up the poultry industry of the United States. They notified each of the more than five hundred affiliated local unions to declare immediate strikes in any poultry plant in the U. S. in which union agreements exisit if any effort is made to slaughter unwholesome poultry. This action followed a National Conference which was attended by 315 delegates from all sections of the nation in Chicago this week. Notice to each of the local unions praised the hundreds of poultry slaughterers both in and out of the union who maintain a code of producing only healthy and wholesome poultry for human consumption. A stinging rebuke was made to those companies operating under both federal and state inspection who ignore all ethical codes for sanitation and wholesomeness. We Must of business, civil service, agriculture, and technical and professional fields. Emphasizing the need for qualified personnel, Dr. Walker said: "Negro businesses today could use more than 1,000 certified public accountants if they could find them." Referring to the recent unanimous Supreme Court decision which called segregation in the nation's schools illegal. Dr. Walker said it was the greatest blow against the color bar since the Emancipation Proclamation. An increasing number of persons in America and the South are coming to realize that the color of a chicken's feathers doesn't matter be noted. "The real chicken is underneath," e said. Dr. Walker was introduced President Harold C. Warren, who also conferred an honorary degree of doctor of letters on Mrs. Eva Hills Eastman, a member of the Board of Trustees, Tougaloo, College. Mrs. Clark Buckner, executive secretary, Department of Institutional Missions. United Christian Society, spoke on the recent merger between Southern Christian Institute, sponsored by that organization, and Tougaloo College, sponsored by the American Missionary Association. Effective immediately the institution will be known as Tougaloo Southern Christian College. Several awards were presented to outstanding members of the graduating class by Dean A. A. Branch. Ernest Luther White, Jr., Belzoni, Miss., won the award for best academic record over a four-year period. Awards for outstanding academic work in their respective fields went to Rosentene Bennett West Point, Miss., in English and foreign languages; Carolyn Moncure. Crystal Springs, Miss., in Mathematics; William R. Wiley. Oxford, Miss., in science; Vivian Johnson, Birmingham. Ala., in music and William M. Harvey, Jackson, in social studies. Ten scholarship wards went to outstanding undergraduates. HONORARY DEGREE of business, civil service, agriculture, and technical and professional fields. Emphasizing the need for qualified personnel, Dr. Walker said: "Negro businesses today could use more than 1,000 certified public accountants if they could find them." Referring to the recent unanimous Supreme Court decision which called segregation in the nation's schools illegal. Dr. Walker said it was the greatest blow against the color bar since the Emancipation Proclamation. An increasing number of persons in America and the South are coming to realize that the color of a chicken's feathers doesn't matter be noted. "The real chicken is underneath," e said. Dr. Walker was introduced President Harold C. Warren, who also conferred an honorary degree of doctor of letters on Mrs. Eva Hills Eastman, a member of the Board of Trustees, Tougaloo, College. Mrs. Clark Buckner, executive secretary, Department of Institutional Missions. United Christian Society, spoke on the recent merger between Southern Christian Institute, sponsored by that organization, and Tougaloo College, sponsored by the American Missionary Association. Effective immediately the institution will be known as Tougaloo Southern Christian College. Several awards were presented to outstanding members of the graduating class by Dean A. A. Branch. Ernest Luther White, Jr., Belzoni, Miss., won the award for best academic record over a four-year period. Awards for outstanding academic work in their respective fields went to Rosentene Bennett West Point, Miss., in English and foreign languages; Carolyn Moncure. Crystal Springs, Miss., in Mathematics; William R. Wiley. Oxford, Miss., in science; Vivian Johnson, Birmingham. Ala., in music and William M. Harvey, Jackson, in social studies. Ten scholarship wards went to outstanding undergraduates. WISHING WELL Registered U. S. Patent Office. HERE is a pleasant little game that will give you a message every day. It is a numerical puzzle designed to spell out your fortune. Count the letters in your first name. If the number of letters is 6 or more, subtract 4. If the number is less than 6, add 3. The result is your key number. Start at the upper left-hand corner of the rectangle and check every one of your key numbers, left to right. Then read the message the letters under the checked figures give you. REVIEWING THE NEWS BY WILLIAM GORDON Managing Editor, Atlanta Daily World You have only to attend one graduation exercise to experience the impact and full depth of its meaning. The best realization of this came to me during the advent of the present season. It was one of those hot and humid days. It was a time when most people would be looking for the biggest shade tree or some remote spot to sit quietly, sip lemonade and eat ice cream. But not for these people. It seemed that the people would never stop coming; the young and the aged, the sick and the lame. They all came, many whose facial expressions told more than a million stories. There was the man who walked with a stick. It seemed that he arrived just as the crowd was surging into the auditorium to find suitable seats, and he was caught in the grips, of the rush. Being pushed around and stumbled over seemed to bother him very little at this time. His main interest it seemed, was to get inside and see that boy Or girl receive the diploma. I had also had to struggle for a seat and I tried to locate near this man with the stick. It seemed that through him I could get a good picture of the typical graduation. With him, it was not the artificial and make believe expression, but the real inner being of the human conscience coming to the surface at a time when living meant the most to him. It was interesting to see him take a seat and sit calmly, almost motionless while he directed his eyes toward the front of the auditorium where the graduates sat. There were deep lines across the face of the man with the stick. They stood out so clearly that one could almost read their meaning. The stories were numerous. Through the man's eyes you could see sleepless nights following a hard day's work. A typical father, wanting his children to have the best in life for the future, he had sacrificed his rest for their welfare. A slight smile across the face would help to increase the depth of the lines across his brow. But through this expression one could see and almost read word for word, the many prayers he had uttered night after night in the interest of that boy and girl. He was trying to smile now, for there before him, was the answer to his many prayers. The feeling was one of great satisfaction for the man with the stick. It was like beginning a new life, refreshing and stimulating. It was the great weight of parent responsibility being lifted from his soul. He had achieved what sometimes seemed to be the impossible. He was seeing his son and daughter graduate from college. But this was not the whole story. There were other faces cut deep with lines and tired eyes that revealed sleepless nights. There were mothers and fathers who sat quietly like the man with the stick giving the impression that a "milestone" in life had been achieved and that back of this achievement were low wages, part-time jobs, sickness and despair. One glance across the sea of faces gave one the full picture and meaning of graduation. For the first time in my life, I saw in all the clear-cut meaning, all the blood, sweat and hardship that goes into the making of a diploma. It was a picture of the real meaning and impact back of the making of a diploma. Graduation And Its Deeper Meaning BY WILLIAM GORDON Managing Editor, Atlanta Daily World You have only to attend one graduation exercise to experience the impact and full depth of its meaning. The best realization of this came to me during the advent of the present season. It was one of those hot and humid days. It was a time when most people would be looking for the biggest shade tree or some remote spot to sit quietly, sip lemonade and eat ice cream. But not for these people. It seemed that the people would never stop coming; the young and the aged, the sick and the lame. They all came, many whose facial expressions told more than a million stories. There was the man who walked with a stick. It seemed that he arrived just as the crowd was surging into the auditorium to find suitable seats, and he was caught in the grips, of the rush. Being pushed around and stumbled over seemed to bother him very little at this time. His main interest it seemed, was to get inside and see that boy Or girl receive the diploma. I had also had to struggle for a seat and I tried to locate near this man with the stick. It seemed that through him I could get a good picture of the typical graduation. With him, it was not the artificial and make believe expression, but the real inner being of the human conscience coming to the surface at a time when living meant the most to him. It was interesting to see him take a seat and sit calmly, almost motionless while he directed his eyes toward the front of the auditorium where the graduates sat. There were deep lines across the face of the man with the stick. They stood out so clearly that one could almost read their meaning. The stories were numerous. Through the man's eyes you could see sleepless nights following a hard day's work. A typical father, wanting his children to have the best in life for the future, he had sacrificed his rest for their welfare. A slight smile across the face would help to increase the depth of the lines across his brow. But through this expression one could see and almost read word for word, the many prayers he had uttered night after night in the interest of that boy and girl. He was trying to smile now, for there before him, was the answer to his many prayers. The feeling was one of great satisfaction for the man with the stick. It was like beginning a new life, refreshing and stimulating. It was the great weight of parent responsibility being lifted from his soul. He had achieved what sometimes seemed to be the impossible. He was seeing his son and daughter graduate from college. But this was not the whole story. There were other faces cut deep with lines and tired eyes that revealed sleepless nights. There were mothers and fathers who sat quietly like the man with the stick giving the impression that a "milestone" in life had been achieved and that back of this achievement were low wages, part-time jobs, sickness and despair. One glance across the sea of faces gave one the full picture and meaning of graduation. For the first time in my life, I saw in all the clear-cut meaning, all the blood, sweat and hardship that goes into the making of a diploma. It was a picture of the real meaning and impact back of the making of a diploma. MY WEEKLY SERMON REV. BLAIR T. HUNT, PASTOR MISSISSIPPI BLVD. CHRISTIAN CHURCH, MEMPHIS TEXT: "Simon, I have somewhat to say unto thee. And he said, "Master say."—Luke 7:36-50. A poor unfortunate street-walker crashed a party. There was a great big party at the home of Simon, a richman. And Jesus was there. As the invited guests arrived a servant motioned him to a stool. When the guest seated himself another servant removed the guest's sandals and washed his weet. Then the guest proceeded barefoot into he banquent hall where another servant touched his head with sweet smelling ointment. He is greeted by the host with the customary kiss. I don't know why Jesus, who mingled with the poor, was invited. But Jesus was there. He was slighted. No servant washed Jesus' feet. None anointed his head with perfume. We note from the Scripture, a woman, a beautiful woman, crashed the party. She was uninvited. No doubt her heart was thumping as she is conscious of the insulting glances. She is holding something in her hand. Her graceful swaying body reached the couch upon which Jesus is reclining. She takes this something, a bottle of perfumed ointment and spills it upon the head of Jesus. A tempest of her tears drips upon Jesus' feet. She bathed his feet with her tears and wiped them with the long tresses of her hair. Somewhere this woman had come in contact with Jesus before and her life had been changed. No longer a woman of the street, no longer a sinner, she is now a grateful worshipper of Jesus. The guests were aroused. This intimacy between Jesus and this beautiful woman caused whisperings. A strange expression possessed Simon's face. Jesus looked into Simon's scu Jesus read Simon's thoughts like a book. Jesus spoke out to Simon and the guests could hear Him, "Simon, I have somewhat to say unto thee." And Simon said, "Master say on." The Master told a story of forgiveness. Then turning to the woman, Jesus said, "See this woman? I came in as your guest... no water to wash my feet, no perfumed oil for my head, no customary kiss gave you me. But here is this woman. God knows she needs forgiveness. It is because of this forgiveness that she is pouring out her affection from a grateful heart." Here Jesus, in a simple story, in a sweet drama, easy to understand tells of the redeeming love of God which is "broader than the measures of man's mind." Said Jesus, "Simon, I have somewhat to say unto thee." It is the glory of the Gospel that Jesus always has something to say to us, something very personal. Jesus knows your secrets, your fears, your worries. Jesus has the one word that will lift the worries from your heart, banish your fears. Friends, Jesus has something He wants to tell you. May you, as Simon of old, say "Master, say on" ... Let every soul ry out "Speak to me, Lord Jesus." Thank God for that woman who crashed the party to express her gratitude to Jesus. Thank God for Jesus who looks into the Beudoir of our souls, who reads our thoughts like a book, who forgives His penitent loved ones! A STREET-WALKER WHO CRASHED A PARTY REV. BLAIR T. HUNT, PASTOR MISSISSIPPI BLVD. CHRISTIAN CHURCH, MEMPHIS TEXT: "Simon, I have somewhat to say unto thee. And he said, "Master say."—Luke 7:36-50. A poor unfortunate street-walker crashed a party. There was a great big party at the home of Simon, a richman. And Jesus was there. As the invited guests arrived a servant motioned him to a stool. When the guest seated himself another servant removed the guest's sandals and washed his weet. Then the guest proceeded barefoot into he banquent hall where another servant touched his head with sweet smelling ointment. He is greeted by the host with the customary kiss. I don't know why Jesus, who mingled with the poor, was invited. But Jesus was there. He was slighted. No servant washed Jesus' feet. None anointed his head with perfume. We note from the Scripture, a woman, a beautiful woman, crashed the party. She was uninvited. No doubt her heart was thumping as she is conscious of the insulting glances. She is holding something in her hand. Her graceful swaying body reached the couch upon which Jesus is reclining. She takes this something, a bottle of perfumed ointment and spills it upon the head of Jesus. A tempest of her tears drips upon Jesus' feet. She bathed his feet with her tears and wiped them with the long tresses of her hair. Somewhere this woman had come in contact with Jesus before and her life had been changed. No longer a woman of the street, no longer a sinner, she is now a grateful worshipper of Jesus. The guests were aroused. This intimacy between Jesus and this beautiful woman caused whisperings. A strange expression possessed Simon's face. Jesus looked into Simon's scu Jesus read Simon's thoughts like a book. Jesus spoke out to Simon and the guests could hear Him, "Simon, I have somewhat to say unto thee." And Simon said, "Master say on." The Master told a story of forgiveness. Then turning to the woman, Jesus said, "See this woman? I came in as your guest... no water to wash my feet, no perfumed oil for my head, no customary kiss gave you me. But here is this woman. God knows she needs forgiveness. It is because of this forgiveness that she is pouring out her affection from a grateful heart." Here Jesus, in a simple story, in a sweet drama, easy to understand tells of the redeeming love of God which is "broader than the measures of man's mind." Said Jesus, "Simon, I have somewhat to say unto thee." It is the glory of the Gospel that Jesus always has something to say to us, something very personal. Jesus knows your secrets, your fears, your worries. Jesus has the one word that will lift the worries from your heart, banish your fears. Friends, Jesus has something He wants to tell you. May you, as Simon of old, say "Master, say on" ... Let every soul ry out "Speak to me, Lord Jesus." Thank God for that woman who crashed the party to express her gratitude to Jesus. Thank God for Jesus who looks into the Beudoir of our souls, who reads our thoughts like a book, who forgives His penitent loved ones! Plans To his mind and will concentrate on the current FHA scandals. The Indiana lawmaker said he has appointed Chicago lawyer Wil liam Simon as chief counsel for the investigation which he said he thought "we will be able to open the week after next." Capehart declined to disclose names of first witnesses in the probe but he said "we plan to call some of the apartment owners" who built projects under FHA's now defunct section 608 which provided the basis for the postwar rental housing prohad its beginning almost a decade ago. A total of 19 people make up the paid and volunteer staff at the new headquarters of the association Says Professor Woods: "They keep plenty busy, day and night, sometime working almost around the clock." The association is in the midst of its membership drive and efforts are being made to raise $4,000. It is believed the amount will be raised. And there is a primary reason here. Jesse O. Thomas is the campaign chairman. Day and night he has worked to make this campaign a success and the workers are rallying to his support. Mr. Thomas is experienced in organization and has dedicated much of his life to working with people. CHIEF COUNSEL his mind and will concentrate on the current FHA scandals. The Indiana lawmaker said he has appointed Chicago lawyer Wil liam Simon as chief counsel for the investigation which he said he thought "we will be able to open the week after next." Capehart declined to disclose names of first witnesses in the probe but he said "we plan to call some of the apartment owners" who built projects under FHA's now defunct section 608 which provided the basis for the postwar rental housing prohad its beginning almost a decade ago. A total of 19 people make up the paid and volunteer staff at the new headquarters of the association Says Professor Woods: "They keep plenty busy, day and night, sometime working almost around the clock." The association is in the midst of its membership drive and efforts are being made to raise $4,000. It is believed the amount will be raised. And there is a primary reason here. Jesse O. Thomas is the campaign chairman. Day and night he has worked to make this campaign a success and the workers are rallying to his support. Mr. Thomas is experienced in organization and has dedicated much of his life to working with people. 19 PEOPLE ON STAFF his mind and will concentrate on the current FHA scandals. The Indiana lawmaker said he has appointed Chicago lawyer Wil liam Simon as chief counsel for the investigation which he said he thought "we will be able to open the week after next." Capehart declined to disclose names of first witnesses in the probe but he said "we plan to call some of the apartment owners" who built projects under FHA's now defunct section 608 which provided the basis for the postwar rental housing prohad its beginning almost a decade ago. A total of 19 people make up the paid and volunteer staff at the new headquarters of the association Says Professor Woods: "They keep plenty busy, day and night, sometime working almost around the clock." The association is in the midst of its membership drive and efforts are being made to raise $4,000. It is believed the amount will be raised. And there is a primary reason here. Jesse O. Thomas is the campaign chairman. Day and night he has worked to make this campaign a success and the workers are rallying to his support. Mr. Thomas is experienced in organization and has dedicated much of his life to working with people. The Doctor Disagrees By Elizabeth Seifert Copyright 1953 by Elizabeth Seifert Distributed by King Features Syndicates Gate Taber a widow, had refused Sewell Albright's off-repeated offer of marriage, feeling that it would be unfair to forst upon this fine old family friend, her ever mourning debts, even though Sewell could well afford to pay them She had carried on the business of breeding blooded horses on their farm in Tennessee after her husband's death, but a market for luxury stock had vanished. Then too there were her lovely daughters. Ravel and Julia, to be considered in any matter of family plans Ravel her oder girl, was handsome red-haired pirited almost beyond ontro. Sue devoted herself passionately to the training of the Tabe horses, while her younger sister Julia seemed as a student nurse at their local hospital. One rainy November afternoon. Julia brought young Dr. PeteMarshall home with her from the hospital to meet net family and John Mark Williamson a neighboring young farmer whom everyone thought to be in love with Ravel. But Ravel no time turning her guns of conquest upon the attractive, doctor presumably her sister's beau Gate favored JohnMark as & possible husband for Ravel. He was level-headed substantial. He might even ame the restless, fiery Ray. WHEN the fire crackled successfully Julia piled on some wood and swung the little copper kettle on the crane over the fire. Thelma would expect them all to sleep late on Sunday, but at least she couldhave a cup of coffee. She gathered up all the abandoned china and carried it to the kitchen, where the big, old-fashioned range stood cold and untended. When the little kettle steamed, Julia set some to brew in a small tin pot and sat down on the rug before the fire to drink it. A door slammed presently at the back of the house and she heard the swish of a broom sweeping off snow. Julia picked up her empty cup and went into the kitchen. "Good gracious!" she exclaimed. John-Mark was bending over the range, puttering with the dampers. "Hi!" He grinned at her. "Thelma had a fall a few minutes ago—nothing busted, I think, but she's shaken up and bruised. "Biah ran over to call me, thought you were all asleep. Fortunately, she's got plenty of fat to fall on, but it took both of us and two stable hands to carry her back to her house." "I'll go and see about her right away." Julia pulled down the old sheepskin coat that hung behind the door. "You turn that thing at the back, John-Mark, and then the fire will draw. Good of you to come over through all this snow." "Don't go out in those thin shoes," he protested. "It's six inches deep and soaking wet. Here, step into these." He jerked off his high boots and held them out. "I'll break my neck in those tremendous things and you'll catch cold on this icy Boor in your sock feet." "No, I won't. Don't try to lift your feet, just shuffle 'em along. Here, step into em. I broke a path. Thought I'd better come and tend your fires. Gale and Ravel don't know from nothing in a kitchen, so Thelma says." He held the door open for her as she maneuvered the heavy boots outside. She was out of breath when she stumbled into Thelma's hot, airless little cabin, where the colored woman lay in a mound on a tumbled bed. Swift, deft examination convinced Julia that no bones were broken and that the woman could move all her limbs. "You'll be black and blue probably, but you aren't seriously hurt," Julia consoled her. "Lie still how and don't worry about the kitchen. We'll carry on." John-Mark had the kettle, boiling when she returned. "No damage done," she reported. "Help me out of these things and I'll see about some food." "Rav's been out since dawn," John-Mark said. "She tame by for a cup of coffee, but Tony hadn't got the fire going yet. She wouldn't wait—said she wanted to ride the river road while the snow was on the trees." Julia said: "John-Mark, I wish you would marry Ravel and tame her." He looked levelly at her. "Me— marry Ravel? She doesn't want to marry me." "How do you know? Did you aver ask her seriously, as though you meant it?" He said calmly; not looking a her: "I've never asked her to marry me as though I meant it, Dooley —not tot years, because I haven't wanted to marry Ravel." Julia was whisking a tablecloth in the air, but she let it fall in a wrinkled heap. "John-Mark, you aren't telling me that you've never been in love with Ravel?" He put the platter of bacon on the table. "Off and on. When I was young and she was younger. But not for a year or two, anyway. I started settling down and Rav didn't admire that. I've been pretty sure for a long time that Rav and I could never make a successful marriage." He pulled out a chair for her, set a plate heaped with hot food before her. "You look wan. You need nourishment. Don't they feed you at that dump down there? Listen, Dooley, this is how it is with me." He sat down beside her and broke a slice of toast. "There was a time," he said, "when I wanted to find something touchable, vulnerable, soft in Ravel. Some tender hidden thing. I gave up. I'm cured. I'm not the kind to pursue a dream forever. Do you know what I've been thinking since last night—what I'm thinking now? I've been thinking that I've wasted a lot of time— that all this time I might have been in love with you.". Julia set down her cup so abruptly the coffee slopped into the saucer. "John - Mark, you're crazy! You've never really looked at me in all our lives. I was always background, little Sis, uninteresting, commonplace—just a piece of nice scenery against which Rav did her scintillating. I can't even ride a horse." "That appraisal is your own," he said soberly. "You put your own valuation on yourself and believe that everybody accepts it. You were doing it last night with that doctor fellow. You're in love with him, aren't you?" She shook her head. "I hope not, Johnny—I really do. Maybe I am, but I mean to cure myself because it's so everlastingly useless. You'd make a marvellous husband, JohnMark. That's why you should have a woman worth all you can give. I never nave thought of you in that way, of course. I was always so sure it was Rav you wanted. And I'm not in love with yon except that I do love you the way I'd have loved a brother if I had had one." You'll think about me now, and when you do I'll be around somewhere." Abruptly he changed the subject, sensing her confusion and discomfort. "Dooley, before Gale comes down I ought to tell you that her affairs are in pretty rotten shape." She felt a clutch of dismay. "I've never known. They don't' tell me anything. How bad, Johnny?" "It's like this, Dooley. This is no time to be depending on a luxury product Not with the world rmoil and heavy taxes taking so much away from the people who used to spend it on themselves. I saw it coming and I turned to raising cattle. Even it Gale could be persuaded to change, Ravel would block the idea. This year Gale isn't going to be able to turn her three-year-olds quickly. She may not be able to sell at all and she has a lot of money invested in those colts." "She does have a little income from that endowment my father left her. "By present-day dollar standards it is a little income. It pay Thelma and the upkeep of this house. But it won't pay stable hands nor feed bills. Gale has been borrowing money and she's not going to be able to meet her notes this year unless she has a piece of luck that I can't see coming ne way. She's stuck with 20-odd very fine, blooded hags that ought t bring a wad of money while they'r in their prime, horses she can afford to keep or to feed." "But what can we do?" was distressed. "I'll be ear money after I graduate, I hop unless I should be drafted into the service. They say some of us a going to be called." "Not you, likely. You aren husky enough. As I see it, Dool —and maybe you won't like th much—I think Gale ought to ma ry Sewell Albright." Julia gasped. "For heaven sake! Gale would never think it. Sewell was an old friend of m father's, we've always been clos friends, but that's all." "He's asked her to marry him "How do you know?" "She void me. She was a litt worried last time, wondering if sh oughtn't to consider it" "Sewell is a dear and we're for of him and he has money. But also has Sally and Pierce a they're impossible." "You could marry me, Doole I think I could pull the Tabers o of the hole they're in." A little flash of tormented ang went over Julia. "You mean that even if the Ta horses can't be sold that the T daughters are still marketa she said bitterly. Not Ravel, cause she couldn't be tamed, cause she was a reckless and u manageable filly, but Dooley Dooley, the quiet one who cou be broken to harness! Then t fury died in her almost as swift shamed by the grave gentleness his eyes. He bad not meant to b gain. His meaning was plain his face. She said: "That was a foul this to say. I'm sorry. I do wish could marry you, Johnny. I rea wish I could." SYNOPSIS By Elizabeth Seifert Copyright 1953 by Elizabeth Seifert Distributed by King Features Syndicates Gate Taber a widow, had refused Sewell Albright's off-repeated offer of marriage, feeling that it would be unfair to forst upon this fine old family friend, her ever mourning debts, even though Sewell could well afford to pay them She had carried on the business of breeding blooded horses on their farm in Tennessee after her husband's death, but a market for luxury stock had vanished. Then too there were her lovely daughters. Ravel and Julia, to be considered in any matter of family plans Ravel her oder girl, was handsome red-haired pirited almost beyond ontro. Sue devoted herself passionately to the training of the Tabe horses, while her younger sister Julia seemed as a student nurse at their local hospital. One rainy November afternoon. Julia brought young Dr. PeteMarshall home with her from the hospital to meet net family and John Mark Williamson a neighboring young farmer whom everyone thought to be in love with Ravel. But Ravel no time turning her guns of conquest upon the attractive, doctor presumably her sister's beau Gate favored JohnMark as & possible husband for Ravel. He was level-headed substantial. He might even ame the restless, fiery Ray. WHEN the fire crackled successfully Julia piled on some wood and swung the little copper kettle on the crane over the fire. Thelma would expect them all to sleep late on Sunday, but at least she couldhave a cup of coffee. She gathered up all the abandoned china and carried it to the kitchen, where the big, old-fashioned range stood cold and untended. When the little kettle steamed, Julia set some to brew in a small tin pot and sat down on the rug before the fire to drink it. A door slammed presently at the back of the house and she heard the swish of a broom sweeping off snow. Julia picked up her empty cup and went into the kitchen. "Good gracious!" she exclaimed. John-Mark was bending over the range, puttering with the dampers. "Hi!" He grinned at her. "Thelma had a fall a few minutes ago—nothing busted, I think, but she's shaken up and bruised. "Biah ran over to call me, thought you were all asleep. Fortunately, she's got plenty of fat to fall on, but it took both of us and two stable hands to carry her back to her house." "I'll go and see about her right away." Julia pulled down the old sheepskin coat that hung behind the door. "You turn that thing at the back, John-Mark, and then the fire will draw. Good of you to come over through all this snow." "Don't go out in those thin shoes," he protested. "It's six inches deep and soaking wet. Here, step into these." He jerked off his high boots and held them out. "I'll break my neck in those tremendous things and you'll catch cold on this icy Boor in your sock feet." "No, I won't. Don't try to lift your feet, just shuffle 'em along. Here, step into em. I broke a path. Thought I'd better come and tend your fires. Gale and Ravel don't know from nothing in a kitchen, so Thelma says." He held the door open for her as she maneuvered the heavy boots outside. She was out of breath when she stumbled into Thelma's hot, airless little cabin, where the colored woman lay in a mound on a tumbled bed. Swift, deft examination convinced Julia that no bones were broken and that the woman could move all her limbs. "You'll be black and blue probably, but you aren't seriously hurt," Julia consoled her. "Lie still how and don't worry about the kitchen. We'll carry on." John-Mark had the kettle, boiling when she returned. "No damage done," she reported. "Help me out of these things and I'll see about some food." "Rav's been out since dawn," John-Mark said. "She tame by for a cup of coffee, but Tony hadn't got the fire going yet. She wouldn't wait—said she wanted to ride the river road while the snow was on the trees." Julia said: "John-Mark, I wish you would marry Ravel and tame her." He looked levelly at her. "Me— marry Ravel? She doesn't want to marry me." "How do you know? Did you aver ask her seriously, as though you meant it?" He said calmly; not looking a her: "I've never asked her to marry me as though I meant it, Dooley —not tot years, because I haven't wanted to marry Ravel." Julia was whisking a tablecloth in the air, but she let it fall in a wrinkled heap. "John-Mark, you aren't telling me that you've never been in love with Ravel?" He put the platter of bacon on the table. "Off and on. When I was young and she was younger. But not for a year or two, anyway. I started settling down and Rav didn't admire that. I've been pretty sure for a long time that Rav and I could never make a successful marriage." He pulled out a chair for her, set a plate heaped with hot food before her. "You look wan. You need nourishment. Don't they feed you at that dump down there? Listen, Dooley, this is how it is with me." He sat down beside her and broke a slice of toast. "There was a time," he said, "when I wanted to find something touchable, vulnerable, soft in Ravel. Some tender hidden thing. I gave up. I'm cured. I'm not the kind to pursue a dream forever. Do you know what I've been thinking since last night—what I'm thinking now? I've been thinking that I've wasted a lot of time— that all this time I might have been in love with you.". Julia set down her cup so abruptly the coffee slopped into the saucer. "John - Mark, you're crazy! You've never really looked at me in all our lives. I was always background, little Sis, uninteresting, commonplace—just a piece of nice scenery against which Rav did her scintillating. I can't even ride a horse." "That appraisal is your own," he said soberly. "You put your own valuation on yourself and believe that everybody accepts it. You were doing it last night with that doctor fellow. You're in love with him, aren't you?" She shook her head. "I hope not, Johnny—I really do. Maybe I am, but I mean to cure myself because it's so everlastingly useless. You'd make a marvellous husband, JohnMark. That's why you should have a woman worth all you can give. I never nave thought of you in that way, of course. I was always so sure it was Rav you wanted. And I'm not in love with yon except that I do love you the way I'd have loved a brother if I had had one." You'll think about me now, and when you do I'll be around somewhere." Abruptly he changed the subject, sensing her confusion and discomfort. "Dooley, before Gale comes down I ought to tell you that her affairs are in pretty rotten shape." She felt a clutch of dismay. "I've never known. They don't' tell me anything. How bad, Johnny?" "It's like this, Dooley. This is no time to be depending on a luxury product Not with the world rmoil and heavy taxes taking so much away from the people who used to spend it on themselves. I saw it coming and I turned to raising cattle. Even it Gale could be persuaded to change, Ravel would block the idea. This year Gale isn't going to be able to turn her three-year-olds quickly. She may not be able to sell at all and she has a lot of money invested in those colts." "She does have a little income from that endowment my father left her. "By present-day dollar standards it is a little income. It pay Thelma and the upkeep of this house. But it won't pay stable hands nor feed bills. Gale has been borrowing money and she's not going to be able to meet her notes this year unless she has a piece of luck that I can't see coming ne way. She's stuck with 20-odd very fine, blooded hags that ought t bring a wad of money while they'r in their prime, horses she can afford to keep or to feed." "But what can we do?" was distressed. "I'll be ear money after I graduate, I hop unless I should be drafted into the service. They say some of us a going to be called." "Not you, likely. You aren husky enough. As I see it, Dool —and maybe you won't like th much—I think Gale ought to ma ry Sewell Albright." Julia gasped. "For heaven sake! Gale would never think it. Sewell was an old friend of m father's, we've always been clos friends, but that's all." "He's asked her to marry him "How do you know?" "She void me. She was a litt worried last time, wondering if sh oughtn't to consider it" "Sewell is a dear and we're for of him and he has money. But also has Sally and Pierce a they're impossible." "You could marry me, Doole I think I could pull the Tabers o of the hole they're in." A little flash of tormented ang went over Julia. "You mean that even if the Ta horses can't be sold that the T daughters are still marketa she said bitterly. Not Ravel, cause she couldn't be tamed, cause she was a reckless and u manageable filly, but Dooley Dooley, the quiet one who cou be broken to harness! Then t fury died in her almost as swift shamed by the grave gentleness his eyes. He bad not meant to b gain. His meaning was plain his face. She said: "That was a foul this to say. I'm sorry. I do wish could marry you, Johnny. I rea wish I could." CHAPTER FIVE By Elizabeth Seifert Copyright 1953 by Elizabeth Seifert Distributed by King Features Syndicates Gate Taber a widow, had refused Sewell Albright's off-repeated offer of marriage, feeling that it would be unfair to forst upon this fine old family friend, her ever mourning debts, even though Sewell could well afford to pay them She had carried on the business of breeding blooded horses on their farm in Tennessee after her husband's death, but a market for luxury stock had vanished. Then too there were her lovely daughters. Ravel and Julia, to be considered in any matter of family plans Ravel her oder girl, was handsome red-haired pirited almost beyond ontro. Sue devoted herself passionately to the training of the Tabe horses, while her younger sister Julia seemed as a student nurse at their local hospital. One rainy November afternoon. Julia brought young Dr. PeteMarshall home with her from the hospital to meet net family and John Mark Williamson a neighboring young farmer whom everyone thought to be in love with Ravel. But Ravel no time turning her guns of conquest upon the attractive, doctor presumably her sister's beau Gate favored JohnMark as & possible husband for Ravel. He was level-headed substantial. He might even ame the restless, fiery Ray. WHEN the fire crackled successfully Julia piled on some wood and swung the little copper kettle on the crane over the fire. Thelma would expect them all to sleep late on Sunday, but at least she couldhave a cup of coffee. She gathered up all the abandoned china and carried it to the kitchen, where the big, old-fashioned range stood cold and untended. When the little kettle steamed, Julia set some to brew in a small tin pot and sat down on the rug before the fire to drink it. A door slammed presently at the back of the house and she heard the swish of a broom sweeping off snow. Julia picked up her empty cup and went into the kitchen. "Good gracious!" she exclaimed. John-Mark was bending over the range, puttering with the dampers. "Hi!" He grinned at her. "Thelma had a fall a few minutes ago—nothing busted, I think, but she's shaken up and bruised. "Biah ran over to call me, thought you were all asleep. Fortunately, she's got plenty of fat to fall on, but it took both of us and two stable hands to carry her back to her house." "I'll go and see about her right away." Julia pulled down the old sheepskin coat that hung behind the door. "You turn that thing at the back, John-Mark, and then the fire will draw. Good of you to come over through all this snow." "Don't go out in those thin shoes," he protested. "It's six inches deep and soaking wet. Here, step into these." He jerked off his high boots and held them out. "I'll break my neck in those tremendous things and you'll catch cold on this icy Boor in your sock feet." "No, I won't. Don't try to lift your feet, just shuffle 'em along. Here, step into em. I broke a path. Thought I'd better come and tend your fires. Gale and Ravel don't know from nothing in a kitchen, so Thelma says." He held the door open for her as she maneuvered the heavy boots outside. She was out of breath when she stumbled into Thelma's hot, airless little cabin, where the colored woman lay in a mound on a tumbled bed. Swift, deft examination convinced Julia that no bones were broken and that the woman could move all her limbs. "You'll be black and blue probably, but you aren't seriously hurt," Julia consoled her. "Lie still how and don't worry about the kitchen. We'll carry on." John-Mark had the kettle, boiling when she returned. "No damage done," she reported. "Help me out of these things and I'll see about some food." "Rav's been out since dawn," John-Mark said. "She tame by for a cup of coffee, but Tony hadn't got the fire going yet. She wouldn't wait—said she wanted to ride the river road while the snow was on the trees." Julia said: "John-Mark, I wish you would marry Ravel and tame her." He looked levelly at her. "Me— marry Ravel? She doesn't want to marry me." "How do you know? Did you aver ask her seriously, as though you meant it?" He said calmly; not looking a her: "I've never asked her to marry me as though I meant it, Dooley —not tot years, because I haven't wanted to marry Ravel." Julia was whisking a tablecloth in the air, but she let it fall in a wrinkled heap. "John-Mark, you aren't telling me that you've never been in love with Ravel?" He put the platter of bacon on the table. "Off and on. When I was young and she was younger. But not for a year or two, anyway. I started settling down and Rav didn't admire that. I've been pretty sure for a long time that Rav and I could never make a successful marriage." He pulled out a chair for her, set a plate heaped with hot food before her. "You look wan. You need nourishment. Don't they feed you at that dump down there? Listen, Dooley, this is how it is with me." He sat down beside her and broke a slice of toast. "There was a time," he said, "when I wanted to find something touchable, vulnerable, soft in Ravel. Some tender hidden thing. I gave up. I'm cured. I'm not the kind to pursue a dream forever. Do you know what I've been thinking since last night—what I'm thinking now? I've been thinking that I've wasted a lot of time— that all this time I might have been in love with you.". Julia set down her cup so abruptly the coffee slopped into the saucer. "John - Mark, you're crazy! You've never really looked at me in all our lives. I was always background, little Sis, uninteresting, commonplace—just a piece of nice scenery against which Rav did her scintillating. I can't even ride a horse." "That appraisal is your own," he said soberly. "You put your own valuation on yourself and believe that everybody accepts it. You were doing it last night with that doctor fellow. You're in love with him, aren't you?" She shook her head. "I hope not, Johnny—I really do. Maybe I am, but I mean to cure myself because it's so everlastingly useless. You'd make a marvellous husband, JohnMark. That's why you should have a woman worth all you can give. I never nave thought of you in that way, of course. I was always so sure it was Rav you wanted. And I'm not in love with yon except that I do love you the way I'd have loved a brother if I had had one." You'll think about me now, and when you do I'll be around somewhere." Abruptly he changed the subject, sensing her confusion and discomfort. "Dooley, before Gale comes down I ought to tell you that her affairs are in pretty rotten shape." She felt a clutch of dismay. "I've never known. They don't' tell me anything. How bad, Johnny?" "It's like this, Dooley. This is no time to be depending on a luxury product Not with the world rmoil and heavy taxes taking so much away from the people who used to spend it on themselves. I saw it coming and I turned to raising cattle. Even it Gale could be persuaded to change, Ravel would block the idea. This year Gale isn't going to be able to turn her three-year-olds quickly. She may not be able to sell at all and she has a lot of money invested in those colts." "She does have a little income from that endowment my father left her. "By present-day dollar standards it is a little income. It pay Thelma and the upkeep of this house. But it won't pay stable hands nor feed bills. Gale has been borrowing money and she's not going to be able to meet her notes this year unless she has a piece of luck that I can't see coming ne way. She's stuck with 20-odd very fine, blooded hags that ought t bring a wad of money while they'r in their prime, horses she can afford to keep or to feed." "But what can we do?" was distressed. "I'll be ear money after I graduate, I hop unless I should be drafted into the service. They say some of us a going to be called." "Not you, likely. You aren husky enough. As I see it, Dool —and maybe you won't like th much—I think Gale ought to ma ry Sewell Albright." Julia gasped. "For heaven sake! Gale would never think it. Sewell was an old friend of m father's, we've always been clos friends, but that's all." "He's asked her to marry him "How do you know?" "She void me. She was a litt worried last time, wondering if sh oughtn't to consider it" "Sewell is a dear and we're for of him and he has money. But also has Sally and Pierce a they're impossible." "You could marry me, Doole I think I could pull the Tabers o of the hole they're in." A little flash of tormented ang went over Julia. "You mean that even if the Ta horses can't be sold that the T daughters are still marketa she said bitterly. Not Ravel, cause she couldn't be tamed, cause she was a reckless and u manageable filly, but Dooley Dooley, the quiet one who cou be broken to harness! Then t fury died in her almost as swift shamed by the grave gentleness his eyes. He bad not meant to b gain. His meaning was plain his face. She said: "That was a foul this to say. I'm sorry. I do wish could marry you, Johnny. I rea wish I could." Got Relief from ITCHING, STINGING OF SIMPLE RINGWORM "If you ever suffered with simple ringworm, you'd know the misery of itching. I used Black and White Ointment. Soon the itching discomfort was relieved. Thanks to Black and White Ointment." For grand help, get Black and White Ointment today. genuine BLACK AND WHITE OINTMENT SOLD ALL OVER THE WORLD Cleanse Skin Use Black and White Soap FOUNDED 1895 ST. EMMA MILITARY ACADEMY ROCK CASTLE, VIRGINIA FULLY ACCREEDITED HIGH SCHOOL ACADEMIC BAND TRADES ROTC AGRICULTURE ALL SPORTS For Information and Catalogue, write Write DIRECTOR ST. EMMA MILITARY ACADEMY ROCK CASTLE, VIRGINIA BUY A BARGAIN LLOYD MOTOR COMPANY 234 UNION — WE TRADE FOR ANYTHING — 5-0458 36 MONTHS TO PAY TRADE TODAY LLOYD MOTOR COMPANY 234 UNION — WE TRADE FOR ANYTHING — 5-0458