Douglas daily dispatch., 1926-09-17


Though hot the sun, and frantic was
her haste,
No thirst assailed this wandrer of the
waste;
No hunger sent it's shafts in her di-
!, rection,
Nor sunburn touched her prison
bleached complexion.
+, Unhampered by the ills that flesh
is heir to,
She chose her goal and set her foot
steps thereto.
Straight for Mt Niggerhead's bleak
desolation
She aimed, Although no sign of habl-
tation
Appeared, to make traveller hope for
aid,
The refugee no hint of doubt displayed;
lected,
She forged ahead and would not be
deflected.
When darkness fell, athwart the west
ern sky
A fitful flaring light she could descry,
That sank, to rise again in fiery
CLEANS.
(The red reflection fof the molten
streams
OF Stag, that from the Douglas smelters
floW.)
She turned her footsteps toward that
distant glow.
'Tis claimed she did not know where
she was going,
To dVxyoI n n
no! ing;
walk twenty,
A road will aid your come back good
and plenty.
The moon shone full--a brilliant West
ern moon,
Shedding a light almost as bright as
noon.
Convenient that, you will perhaps re-
mark,
She might have had to wander in the
dark.
Yet even there as everywhere, no
doubt,
Twas plain enough she knew her way
about.
Precisely at the psychologist second,
She found the very help on which, she'd
reclxoned.
Aha! Behold! A welcome road! A fence!
Leading to people-to an audience.
A trifle weary of this hiking plan,
CTis easier riding in blue sedan)
She felt her journey had been long
protracted.
Twas time the thrilling climax be en-
acted
And just ahead, responding to its cue,
A little town grew slowly into view;
A border towIl--a port of Mexico
Adjoining Douglas on the south, you
know.
Six weeks before, while bathing at
the ocean,
Her disappearance had caused great
commotion.
For days her friends had vainly search
ed the coast,
And many thought she'd given up the
ghost.
TO reappear in this remote location,
Undoubtedly would make huge sem
sation.
Her l<idnap-tale, put over withou:
blunder,
Should far outlive the usual nine days
wonder.
And so at midnight, story well re-
hearsed,
And plans matured, into the town she
burst.
AS she approached. sudden sprint and
fleet,
Brought her up breathless in the "dobe
street
Twas we'll to seem little bit excited,
On learning she was near the States
United.
Then, taking in account the hike she'd
made,
A histrionic stagger she essayed.
But, on the whole, she seemed in good
condition,
"Fox Studio" she wished, not ply
sician.
The ruling passion here you see un-
masked,
Publicity was what the lady asked.
Publicity she got in fullest need.
Thrills are the stuff on which the
public feed,
They "ate it up" her story SO audac-
ious,
But that is not proof it was We
racious.
Publicity she got on every wire,
'Tis we'll that credence was not her
desire.
The next week saw the desert wilds
infested
BY hordes of curious searchers, who
contested
To find the bold abductors and their
4 shack.
(Iost people think they have the
| sleuthing knack.)
AS far as Niggerhead the trail was
! plain,
But south of that, one looked for il
in vain.
The desert fairies once more took
hand,
Smoothing all footprints from the
shifting sand.
SO while the sleuths in all directions
! hovered,
No trail was found-her tracks were
i too we'll covered.
, The desert thorns resumed their usua
/ function,
! And stabbed invaders quite withou
4 compunction.
By scorching sun the sleuths wer'
i fiercely burned,
L