Evening star., 1939-01-22


and baked yams. All this miraculously con-
cocted while Rachel smoked cigarettes and
sang hymns!
In time, Holly grew to recognize certain
hymn. 1t was the gin hymn. Rachel started it
after the third snort and usually it was the
accompaniment for pie. Perhaps Holly's sys-
tenn of careful measuring and remaining sober
till the cake was in the oven had been all wrong
In moment of frustrated agony Holly
decided to try Rachel's method. On her way
home from work she purchased bottle of
Renedictne and can of blueberries. Before
approaching the rolling pin, she fortified herself
with two small glasses of Benedctine. But it
didn't work. She burned the crust and the
blueberries boiled over in a terrible mess. The
result looked and tasted, very much like some
ones old tarpauln that had been left out in
the weather
From across the hedge floated the gin hymn.
will the-ah be any stahs in NAH crown, in
NAH CROWN"
Better make them asbestos stars, thought
Holly, grimly The scent of peach cobbler
Knocked her So she stepped to the back door
and pitched the hot blueberry pie at the back
fence 1t made satisfactory splatter. After she
had cooled off, she would clean up the mess
Her life was full of such experiences. First the
splash. Then the aftermath.
As further gesture of defiance at fate, she
would get out her best bib and tucker and
indulge in dollar dinner.
When she returned, she met Mr. Stone
hurrying through the hedge
Don't you think you might reconsider
about the garage. Miss Camp? have just re-
ceived wardrobe trunk, sewing machine
and camp stove. 1t looks as if l might get
Home On Wheels trailer next week.
Holly gave him the glittering eye.
Mr. Stone, are you married? The place for
a sewing machine is in the home. Is your wife
going to want to run over to my garage every
time it's necessary to take few stitches on
Junior rompers?"
To her delight it got him. He flushed.
Il am not married, Miss Camp. didn't
mention wife, did II"
Then you're the seamstress! You figure
on coming over to my place to catch up with
your knitting" said Holly. Nothing doing.
Just what is your racket, Mr.. Stone? Just
where do you harvest all this loot"
II assure you haven't any racket. If you
insist on the truth, I'll tell you. I'm contest
fan. A lucky one might even claim to be the
champion contestant of this state. like ham
and razor blades and beeswax and bluing and
harmonicas. like anything and everything,
because it pays
Then that big green Luxuria sedan you
wanted to store in my garage arrived because
you like Juden's Tacum Powder, because ?"
Exactly"
Sorry, but couldn't spare bit of space.
Holly had liked Juden's Talcum, too. She
had liked it twenty three times, and the top
shelf of the bathroom was loaded with Judens
:. but her garage had no Luxuria. Harrison
Stone was snake in the grass. The more she
thought about the hours she had chewed
pencils down to the bone trying to find clever
thoughts about Juden's Talcum, the more
ranked she became. The more necessary it
became to make a splash. To fling another
hucklebery pie.
So she bought dog.
I'm not particular about pedigree" she
told the owner of the pet shop. But do like
them cute and playful. The kind of dogs that
chew up shoes and chase cats"
Muggins came home with her that night