The Omaha guide., 1945-11-03
The Greater Omaha Guides
CORNER
The Golden Stool
By ETHELYN
Mcclure Newspaper Syndicate.
WNU Features.

a THEIR first breakfast IN LIN,
"A wood, Ellen Hamilton asked
anxiously, John. will you look up
your Uncle Comstock? Or shall we
wait for him to call?"
Johns lip twitched. Lets get
settled first, dear. And aren't you
expecting Lucille Smythe and her
father soon? You'll be busy"
John, I'll certainly have time for
Uncle Comstock."
Ellen set out to find him that day.
He wasn't in the phone book, SO she
consulted the city directory. Com
stock Whitney Hamilton resided at
SO Reber street. Ellen took a taxi
across the river, down Main street,
across another rather smelly little
river, to a strangely rural looking
community.
you must be wrong" she said
to the driver. I'm looking for the
residence Of Mr.. Comstock Whitney
Hamilton"
That's it, ma'am." He pointed
to a tumble-down cottage. But"
he grinned, IF you want to see old
Ham, look for him in front of
Pete's Place at the east end Of the
bridge. He's held down a bench
there for twenty years"
"Are you sure you're not mistak-
en?" Ellen asked frigidly.
"Ma'am, everyone in Linwood
knows those old fixtures in front of
Pete's-swappin' lies and spittin'
There's old Ham, old Joe Homer"
Never mind" Ellen said. Take
me there"
That night she said to John, "You
should have seen how overcome
poor Uncle Comstock was. I felt
so ashamed! Your own uncle, sit
ting on that hard old bench with
those horrid men! It's weeks since
he's seer a barber. He was speech
less when 1 told him who I was, that
we're living on Prospect avenue and
that we insist on his moving in with
us. l don't suppose he dreamed
anyone would rescue him."
John blinked. Are you sure we
a make him happy"
"Oh, yes! He'll love being in this
house, having nice clothes and know
ing really congenial people"
John smiled. set a frog on a
golden stool. :"
Whats that?"
Nothing" John said. when do
we move him?"
Ellen considered. Lucille Smythe
would be in town the next week on
her way east. She was a bit snooty.
Her father would be with her-he'd
once lived in this town. Ellen had
seen pictures of Lucille's father, a
digniied old gentleman with a point
ed white beard.
sfUncle Comstock will come at
once" Ellen said firmly.
They left Uncle Comstock's cot
tage just as it was. He wouldn't
need anything there. He was silent
on the way to Prospect Avenue.
Hes simply bewildered," Ellen
whispered to John.
Uncle Comstock looked sweet in
his new clothes. Ellen supervised
the BARRIERS work. A white mustache
and pointed beard made him posi-.
lively distinguished. After dinner
he said he wished he'd brought his
plug of chewing tobacco. Ellen pat
ted his hand. Darling, John has
some good cigars" He smiled wist-
fully.
He did just as Ellen said. II Won
der what he's thinking" Ellen
sighed. He seems so pitiful and
wistful, doesn't he?"
More every day." John said.
Lucille was due Saturday. Al
ten she phoned from the station.
Ellen found her quite upset. I've
lost Daddy. He went out to talk to
the baggage master-and now he's
Disappeared"
They looked about and gave up.
John met them for luncheon and
they shopped. There was a bus tie
Z up, and they walked across the
bridge for the Prospect Avenue bus.
AS they approached Pete's Place,
Ellen saw five or six old fixtures
on the bench. She thought of poor
Uncle Comstock and shivered.
Suddenly her blood froze. Uncle
Comstock was sitting right there
with the others. chewing tobaccol
Desperately, Ellen walked and
talked fast, calling Lucille's atten-
ton to a landmark across the street.
They safely past when Lucille
exclaimed. i've dropped a pack.
age!"
TN run back" Ellen said quick
ly. Then her heart sank as she saw
a man rise from the bench, pick UP
something from the curb and start
toward them. But it wasn't Uncle
Comstock. 1t was another old FIX
ture" who approached them.
"Why-Daddyl" Lucille gasped.
81 didn't see you. What are you
doing here? Getting the latest on
the town." She laughed ~nervouSly.
Daddy always talks to everyone
Come along. Daddy!" He was very
digniied, but he looked pitiful, wist.
full. Lonely. Like Uncle Comstock
John" Ellen said later, whats
the rest of your little poem, Set a
frog on a golden stoor?"
Guess" John grinned.
rs it. Back he'll hop into the
pool'?"
Exactly"
We'll, it's true" Ellen admitted.
Well let Uncle Comstock have
Pete's bench again." she smiled.