Fitzgerald leader enterprise and press. (Fitzgerald, Ben Hill County, Ga.) 1921-1964, 1922-04-13
Copyright, lg9O, BY The Wheeler Syndicate. Ina

"Say, wouldn't a model tunic gown
draped in hot-looking pink chiffon, the
same color as that camel-shaped cloud
out there, be swellY"
Meat little sky, amt it? know q
fellow made a fortune out Of an idea
like that-Al Levy; he's the fellow put
out the Sunset Sextette Girls that was
such a scream in four-a-day vaudeville
last year. knew him when he was
seilin' tickets in front of the RlaIto In
the old scalper days"
"All aboard for Sunset Land-tra,
la la la-tra la la"
Sure, that's the act know all
them little girls like they was my sis
ters. l remember Daisy de We're when
she was carrying a tin spear in the
fourth row of a fifth company Of the
Gaiety Girls Daisy always knew
when her show came In off the road
that she could get a dollar room-and
off me-and pay me when her luck
turned. Them was the good old days
at the Rialto house-gOod old days"
A theme of retrOspection, subsid-
larry, but inslstent as left-hand
theme marching beneath the trill of
treble arpeggiOs, crept into Mr. Gilly's
voice : he burrowed an equally retro
spective forefinger knuckle deep int
the sand, drew 1t out and peered into
the little well,
Then was good old days-I never
ought to have left Broad way for the
resorts nohow-g0tin' back Is like a
character man I IN to convince a
manager he can play juvenile. But
say, kiddo, If you'll wear a muzzle
about 1t, I'll whisper something In your
ear"
"Sure."
ut looks like I'm going to land be-
hind the counter Of the new McPhee-
tiers when 1t opens next month";"
"Oh!-the new thirty-story one on
Thirty-second street,"
"Right-ohl My friend Kell's man.
aging 1t and he promised the counter
to me before the plans were even
dryl"
NoSH Out tAiul . .lOD
Il amt sure yet, but I'll know any
day now. / may run down to Chicago
to see him when he comes West next
week-and If land it, birdie,
believe me, I'll invite you out to the
SWEETEST little supper between here
and Forty-seccnd street. How'd you
like to see me behind a alabaster,
gilt-edged counter, eh, kiddo?"
mot so bad"
I'm just holding my breath wish
ing 1t on myself-forty week and
three shifts Say, it's so easy politi-
clan would trade with me-"
Il know just how you feel. l had
my eyes glued to the Avenue and I'm
ported Gowns-Only'-thre whole
years before l ever sold anything
above a twenty-nine-fifty ready-to-
wear"
The gray light Of dusk suddenly en-
veloped them; the lake was CLASSY
topped like clstern, and behind them
darkenlng tangle Of woods full of the
twilight gibbersh Of birds.
Gee, forty a week. On forty a
week l could ride In a taxi with my
back to the meter; could buy a plot
on Fifth avenue for truck garden;
Fl could even get married, Birdie"
"Or buy an underground balloon"
They laughed In soft, furry voices,
that had unconsciously taken on the
Quietude of dusk.
"Look over there. Gilly-the hotels
beginning to light up"
what / think Of that dumpw
Il bet right now the whole Bison
convention is ringing for more tow.
els and shaving water, and every
mans wife Of 'em is unpacking the
tray Of her trunk and shaking the
small town sweet lavender and crinkles
out Of a made-in-the-house summer
silk that would get laugh out Of
clown Off duty"
Il notice you're pretty strong for the
small towns yourself, Morning Glory.
! amt heard nothing more about that
eight-forty-five flyer since you and
Miami went out to the moon last
night"
"Quit your kiddin'."
"Go to 1t, sis-he's the prize Bison
OF the whole herd, with bank &C.
count l could wish on mysef-don't
let straw in his hair and ashes down
his vest front scare you off. Oh, you
Red Trunk I"
saw, you'll"
Likes you pretty well, don't he,
Queenie? He watched us paddle off
Ike he'd give a half interest In his
Miami bank stock to be in my place"
"Yes-he-would-not! I" sung In a
voice TO deny her negation.
Mr. Gilly busted his hands of sand
particles. rolled over luxurlously on
his side, climbed to his feet and
stretched wide his arms like sun god
standing at the edge Of a day. He was
a white flannel epic in sartorlal art,
an heroic expression Of trousers
creased to the knife edge and wide
cuffed to reveal, yet conceal. white
clicked hose, so sleazy that the knob
Of his ankles strained thinner the silk
A white silk shirt fiuted In front and
bloused to a correct negligee snapped
In the breeze, and with it all the
carefully careless hair. the unimpor
tant features and the too large horse
shoe scarf-pin that distinguishes the
sophomore from the scholar, the weevl
from the worker, the gent from the
gentleman.
"Etay where you are, Birdie, and I'll