The Ely miner., 1943-02-25
By KATHLEEN NORRIS
Bell Syndicats-wNU Features,

>NE OF the SLrangeSI pne-
| nomena of wartime is that
~ the men and women who
have tremendous burdens of
change, separation, grief to bear
are facing them heroically, and
those whose problems are just
the normal ones Of our faulty
human living are making more
fuss than ever.
Gas if the war wasn't enough"
these people say. After which
they detail the dreadful facts
that there is a leak in the library
ceiling, that Jim's telegram
couldn't go to his mother this
Christmas for the first time in
eighteen years and that Ethel
lost her new mink coat.
One woman I know demanded
sympathy from large circle of
friends because, at the age of "a, she
had to have artificial replacements
of her teeth. It'll change her ap-
pearance so, and she was always so
pretty!" walled her loyal admirers.
And upon meeting they asked each
other: Have you heard about poor
Elinor? Isn't it awful? They aren't
going to leave tootts. II her head"
Another woman is heartbroken be-
cause building has been put up on
the river side of her city house and
her view is partially destroyed. You
can still see some of the trees and
strip of silver water, but not as you
did see them twenty years ago. The
worst of it is that Phil had chance
to buy that lot for song, and didn't!
Grieved Over Lost Pearls.
Still a third case is that of a girl
who lost string of pearls. They
were real pearls, given her on her
eighteenth birthday thirty years ago.
They had been her grandmother
The string was weak and Carrie
wore them downtown to have them
restrung. But when she got to the
jewelers. they were gone. I met her
last week and in the course of a
casual chat she suddenly burst out
about them again: ''When I think
of grandmother pearls, that had
right here in my hands"
Here is a letter from a mother in
Philadelphia which illustrates again
the curious narrowmindedness of
some natures. Natures that cannot
seem to see things on a wide scale,
but must refer everything to their
own immediate comfort or pleasure.
eve have two daughters, writes
Mrs. Parker. Emily is now 26, and
Donna six years younger. Emily is
nice looking, she has an intellectual
face, wears glasses, is always neat
and smartly dressed. Donna, who
married most fortunately at 18 the
young assistant doctor in her fathers
office, has an ideal home and a beau
tiful boy.
Emily never cared for boys, did
well in business school, and became
a very rich mans private secretary.
Eight months ago she went into de-
fense work, taking a 'midshift' at
a turret lathe. A little later she and
a girl friend rented small apart
ment not far from the factory, and
she left home It is true that we are
some distance away, and of course
our house is quiet one; my hus-
bands hospital work and private
practice exhaust him in these busy
times, and usually all lights are out
at nine o'clock. But to have our re-
naming child simply move out of
her home staggered me and almost
broke her fathers heart. Night after
night, when the dishes are done and
we are closing the house, he asks
me, where do you suppose little En-
is tonight?'
Daughter Visits Parents.
Emily gets home-or rather to
her apartment, at about nine In the
morning, has something to eat, and