Plentywood herald. [volume] (Plentywood, Mont.) 1908-current, 1927-10-14
published By special arrAngcment with II
Chicago Tribune 6yndtcate)
IN TWO PARTS-PART ONE

IS not without reluctance that i
break a long silence about my friend
Peter jackson, sometime senior part
ner in p. Jackson 81 Co., cigar i'm
porters, and chairman of Nirvana. Linn
tied, manufacturers Of high grade Gig
arets. Indeed, 1t Is only because so very
many of my correspondents seem anxious
to know What has happened to that
temporary" gunner officer. since he was
invalided out of "the regiment" and be-
came a cooperative farmer somewhere
among those hills which slope down to
Henley-on-Thames, that / narrate this
incident in his postwar career.
On the whole, then-my many CORE
spondents will be glad to know-that
postwar career, though difficult, has not
been q failure. "Tebbits-Jackson. Linn
tied" (you will remember, perhaps, how
u Mr.. Jackson took Harry Tebbits, the
neighboring farmer. into partnership?)
is as prosperous as any agricultural con-
Germ can hope to be In England. Pri1e
pigs grunt in Peters sites. Prize COWS
low In his sheds. wilkins, his blind
poultry man. has more than a thousand
black Leghorns in his keeping. Sgd Dy-
son still does a good bit OF timber fell
ing, and ex-Corporal Hankins, he OF the
artificial leg. is today In charge Of no
less han four delivery vans which sup
ply eggs, poultry. fruit n vegetables
direct to housewives as far away as
Maidenhead and Cookham Dene.
Driver Carton, too-our friends old
batman-is still at "Sunfowers." and
many more ex-artillerymen, all sharing
In his profits from the farm. Nor, de-
spite all their difficulties. has u MIR.
Jackson-"Daddy" to two lapper daugh-
tiers and a boy OF SEVEN, who will have
to be sent to q decent private school in
= year or two-yet fallen out OF love
with his wife, the tall. blonde. digni1ed.
and now nearly forty-year-old Patricia.
Yet sometimes-especially when his
cousin, Francis Gordon, now q "cele-
brated author" leaves Glen Cottage to
secure yet more American dollars for his
American wife-"P. j." feels q little
lonely, and sometimes-especially when
he looks at Peter the Fourth" and won
ders how the deuce he is going to n
enough English flyers to send him to
Eton-"P. j." cannot help regretting
those pre-war days when, pitting his
brains against the Schornsteins and the
Elkinses and all the rest OF the cigar
trade, he made at least double as much
as he can ever hope to earn out Of the
stubborn land.
And as it so happened. such a mood
OF regret was fairly vivid in our MIR.
Jackson's mind when, at about half-past
eight OF a frosty spring morning. he
CdA4lc OdIh w a bAi6AtAy ohdbRy
flowers" from his usual powwow with
Harry Tebbits to find Patricia and Peter
the Fourth" already at breakfast in their
sitting hall, and on the table q hand
written envelope which, turned over, re-
vealed the astonishing superscriptfon,
"Beresford & Beresford, st. Mary Axe"
why the dickens are they writing to
me?" he thought. his gray eyes darken-
ing q little as he ent his stocky figure
ever the table and reached for a knife.
And "P. US" eyes darkened still further,
and his han fdgeted at his tooth
brushed" mustache when, having slit the
envelope. he read, in Maurice Beres-
ford's handwriting: It's years since !
last saw III. Are you doing anything
on the fifteenth? We have a special
dinner on that evening; and quite a lot
of your old friends In the trade seem to
think it won't be complete unless you're
with us. I've a new flat-99 Mount
street-and can easily put you up fol-
the night"
"And what do you think Of that?'
asked Dur MIR. jackson, handing over the
letter to his wife.
Patricia, helping Peter the Fourth
to his egg, took quite a while to peruse
the Grabbed, precise words, and watch
ing her, Peter remembered how, long
of her spites to that horrid, cynical lit
tie man." Maurice Beresford. So that II
was rather a surprise when, perusal fin.
ished, she said, smiling at him, 81 think
I'd go If I were you. You haven't beer
up to town since the last divisional dir
ner. And besides. it'll give you a chance
Of hurrying on those new chicken
houses"
All the same-and although, regretfu
moods apart, q good inner and a bed a.
Maurice's fiat seemed distinctly allurinE
Peter, by now grown very Wise In hus'
bandhood, did not rush his fences.
I'll think it over" he said. You're
sure you wouldn't mind?"
"Mindl" laughed Patricia. witt
spring cleaning to be done!"
She left the matter there, and Peter
having kissed her, went back to his jobs
His Jobs. that morning, happened to b.
rather trivial, and by lunch time the re
gretful mood was sharp as a thorn.
That afternoon, too, all his men seemed
in a conspiracy to annoy him. Drive
Carton groused about the oats, blint
Wilkins about the poultry food, ex-cor
poral Hankins about the petrol. While
to cap 1t all, Sid Dyson, not satisfied
with proflt-sharing, wanted his wage
raised, and Harry Tebbits CASUALLY sub
missive enough) fought for three-quar
tiers of a grudging hour against putting
up new cottages on the Arlesfeld road.
"You and your ex-service men," rum
\ bled Harry Hebbits. "Beant the bunga
lows good enough for emp"
Peter, in the end, got his own wa,
] about the cottages, but his partner
you and your ex-service men" scenes
: to sum up the whole trouble OF the day
. This place is turning n a charit
institution" he thought, and that nigh
. as they sat, supper oversize knittin
! Peter the Fourth a jumper suit and h
cleaning his old rabbit gun with a four
by-two-said as much to his wife.
But all Patricia said was, You want
( day of, my dear. Have you accepted tn
invitation yet3 Because, If you have
: I'd better see to your tail coat"
!. III.
I" There Is no need-fortunately for tn
= printer-to devote more than a passin
: remark to the next week. "P. j." JUS
8 went IN with his farming, and Patriot
just went on watching him, as she al
ways did watch him when what sh
: called his "wish-I-were back at-the-of
fee" mood was at its height.
This time his "wish-I-were-back at
the-office" mood seemed no worse tina
usual. He was slightly less even-tem
D pered, perhaps, and slightly more die
tatorial, and slightly more inclined-a
l nights, when he came back mtred fror
his riding or his tramping-to sit lat
: over his complicated system Of accour
= books. But otherwise he gave her n
cause for anxiety, nor did she mentio
: the affair to her father when that dis
tinguished nerve specialist (now q bal
. onet, by the way) drove his new Rol
down to them on the Sunday Afternoon
conf1ded. TITS marvellous how he's &c
DuoV h{c chn11-ohn~k Hhu-hn hnur