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Page 29 text:
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— ы x Lei A Bay ercival ! Percival Humphrey! Percival Humphrey Reginal Jones!” shouted Lucille, his ador- ing wife, to the figure that was slowly descending their brown stone steps in the heart of the city. “Yes, love, he called as he turned around. “Will you go to the library with me when you get home this afternoon?” Lucille asked. Certainly, sweetheart, he said. One more kiss, and off he went for five hours of work, and then. Ah! He would see Lucille again. The hours rolled on. At 2:30 P. М. his figure bounded up his steps. He thrust himself into the house. But! Where was Lucille? “Dearest Percival: Have gone to Chinatown to buy an oriental din- ner gong for Aunt Julia. Sorry about the Library. “Lucille.” “Lucille to Chinatown,” he gasped. Oh! What shall he do? Chinatown where murderers lurked, daggers flew, drunkards abounded, opium dens flour- ished! His precious Lucille was there. Oh! He must save her. Hatless he dashed toward Chinatown. The streets grew narrower and dirtier. Everywhere there was a gloomy, evil orienetal aspect. What did he care? He must find Lucille. Ah! There was the shop where they sold oriental dinner gongs. Probably his Lu- cille was there. He scanned the place. No—but yes—there was a woman sitting with her back toward him at the farther end of the shop. Only her black hair showed. Let’s see. Did Lucille have black hair? Yes! It must be she. At last she was safe. He dashed over to her and cried, “Lucille.” Horrors! Not his blue-eyed beautiful Lucille, but a squint-eyed, yellow-faced Chinese woman. With a grasp in his throat he fled from the shop. Maybe someone at this moment was thrusting a dagger into Lucille’s throat. She was now probably a corpse, bloody and cold. Oh! Не must find her, dead or alive. So in and out of the gloomy alleys he wanders. Suddenly a blood-curling shriek rent the air. It come from the building at his side. It must be Lu- | нашли | H. R. 202 A. M. | HON. PERCIVAL HUMPHREY REGINALD JONES cille, his precious! They were probably murdering her. Up the filthy steps he bounded. Another shriek came from the door in front of him. “Oh, God! Don't let them kill her, he prayed. He burst into the room. “Lucille, my darl No Lucille met his eyes. Only evil-eyed Chinks were squatting on the floor smoking opium. Where is she? he cried. A gun was raised toward him. behind. Where is she? | heard her shriek, my darling Lucille, Percival explained. “I gave dat shriek,” a grinning Chink replied. Melican man al'ays wanta be here. He hear a shriek. He try save shrieker. We shriek when Melican man pass house. Melican man rush in to save woman. We ask money, по get—we kill him,” was the laconic exp lanation of the Chink between puffs of his pipe. Percival Humphrey Reginald Jones closed his eyes. He had been fooled. His Lucille was not there. Money, or—” the tone was suggestive. Percival gulped. The dagger and the pistol were uncom- fortably close. He slowly handed over his wallet, containing half his week's salary. Dazed, he found himself outside on the pavement. There was now no hope for Lucille. Slowly he re- turned home, the tears streaming over his face. He opened the door of his empty house. Wha-a-t! His Lucille—his sunny-eyed beauty stood before him. “АҺ, sweetheart, how glad I am to see you. I had the loviest time this afternoon, she said. ' he gasped. Charlotte called up and invited me to the theatre, so I didn't go to Chinatown. But darling Percival, what has happened? she asked as she beheld his half-dried tears. “No-o-thing, sweetheart, he murmured. Later, turning his empty pockets inside out, “Меуег again, swore the Hon. Percival Humphrey Reginald Jones. EM A dagger from
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Page 31 text:
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CLASS PROPHECY By IDA MARGOLES The pitter patter of the rain and the warmth of the room as I sat in my Morris chair gradually con- trived to make me drowsy and I fell asleep. With a start I awoke. The cuckoo clock informed me it was eight o'clock. I realized it was too late for my Authors’ and Editors’ meeting. Instinctively, it seemed, my eyes rested on the graduation picture of my class, that of February, 1923. It was now twenty years after that eventful commencement night. What changes had taken place! І had been keeping what I call a Pandora box all these years, because in it I had put all the interesting things which I later on used in my plots. Opening the trunk the first thing I saw was my old diary. І had stopped writing in it some ten years before. I opened it with some curiosity and came across the following: May 2, 1933. The events of yesterday can best be accounted for by the extract from the newspaper which I have pasted here. Mayor GOLDMAN GIVES Picnic (So He Can Have Enough to Eat) Many notables attended the mayor's picnic. Bar- ney Koplin, coach of Penn State University, who has earned an international reputation, was seated in the grand stand. Herman Levenson, official seller of kosher hot dogs was very distinguished-looking. Mrs. Levenson, nee Dorothy Silverman, arrived with her small family of six. She was awarded a Roosevelt medal. Allen Ross was given as first prize a package of chewing gum, manufactured by William Kasen, for winning the greased pig race. The regular oration was delivered by Max Berk, instructor at the Deaf and Dumb Asylum. Jeanette Satz recalled to us the days of Camelia Sabie by winning the turtle race. Some excitement was caused when Julia Cohen fell into the pink lemonade, but Michael D Andres happening along, the finest policeman that ever graced the ranks, rescued the fair damzel in distress. Alfred Tokar, the well-known street cleaner, cleaned the place up—by collecting money. Several of the doughnut sellers were Elmer Hamhardt, Willis Tice, and Leon Gorka. АП those who partook of the refreshments regarded the picnic as a success. June 24, 1933. My, but I am tired after yesterday. Wow! 5о- ciety day certainly takes heavy toll! Mrs. Herman Shapiro gave a wonderful ball. 1 can't somewhow reconcile Elizabeth Jay as married, she was so successful as the dean of Wellesly Col- lege, but she and Herman are happy. 1 don't blame Elizabeth for she and Florence Green always were inseparables. I remember their double wedding so well. Florence is Mrs. Richard Abeles now. Eliza- beth always has secured the best, so 1 didn't wonder she had Mr. William Mendel's orchestra of interna- tional fame to play her dance music. I met Max Landis the manufacturer of baby ribbon, there. Bill Miller was there with his little wife, the former Lavinia Von Knobloch. There were so many others that I guess if I put them all down, this will look more like a directory than a diary. But somehow I couldn't remember the ball without remembering Bessie Berson, the French shoe string seller, Beatrice Rogensof, mother of three of the nicest little girls; Michael D'Andrea, manufac- turer of green pills; David Needel, who by the way married Lillian Sussman and who is conducting a ma- trimonial agency, assisted by Louis Pischittel, and Frank Cereto. Frank certainly did not have to apply to a matrimonial agency, for ever since his school days Mathilda Padula was his sweetheart and it was but natural she should be his lovely bride. Late in the evening Elizabeth entertained us with a motion picture program. As we sat there I re- ceived a shock for laughing as in the days of yore, with her many dimples and beauty marks, was Sadie Rosen as the Juvenile lead in “Broken Hearts.” It wasn't so shocking after all for even in the old days she was famous as a beauty. Among others in the cast were Mildred Engleman, Daisy Eskowitz, Flor- ence Freeman, Harry Friedlander, Joseph Bornstein, Abraham Cohen and Philip Colt. Dorothy Elins was the costume designer and Marion Israel, her assistant. The director was Louis De Benedette. There fol- lowed a slow motion picture of athletic news showing Caffrey winning the Olympic two-cent race. Іп the News of the Day was Franklin Wintsch registering his famous grin. He is as boyish as ever, even though he is Treasurer of the United States. Side by side we saw Dina Gerber. prize beauty, and John Denver, the famous Irish politican. With pleasant goodbyes and promises to show up soon again we left our delightful hostess to seek our beauty sleep.
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