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Show PAGE TWO THE PARK RECORD Thursday, October 21 .... x&m MUVCIM I UUCtlJ V.LUD A V it t y Thornton W mm o HEADLINES FROM THE LIVES OF PEOPLE LIKE YOURSELF! tturgesi li n 7 Mi 1 , .man, ? vm " 7 -u REDDY FOX HIDES D EDDY FOX stole swiftly through the Green Forest in the direction direc-tion of the pond of Paddy the Beaver. Bea-ver. Reddy took the greatest care to keep out of sight of all the other little forest and meadow people. It would not do to let one of them see him because well, because you !know, he was supposed to be down on the Green Meadows. He had said that he had a very important errand down there which prevented him going to look for Buster Bear as Prickly Porky had asked him to. Of course he hadn't had any errand down on the Green Meadows. It was just an excuse. The truth is he was afraid to look for Buster Bear. And so he had made up that excuse. Then Jumper the Hare, who, you know, is one of the most timid of all the little people who live in the Green Forest, had offered to go look for Buster Bear. Reddy Fox didn't believe that Jumper really would dare do it, but if he should why Reddy knew that everybody would cay that he was a greater coward than Jumper, and would laugh at jhim ever after. There was just one thing to do and that was to give Jumper such a fright that he would forget all about Buster Bear. So as soon as he was out of sight of the , other little people Reddy had turned into the Green Forest and run as ,fast as ever he could to head off Jumper the Hare. Now, Reddy couldn't have done this had Jumper started in a great hurry to look for Buster Bear, because be-cause fast as Reddy can run Jumper Jump-er can run faster. But Jumper had not been in a hurry and so it happened hap-pened that Reddy was nicely hidden behind a big pile of brush when Jumper came hopping alone. When Reddy saw him coming he smiled and it was a wicked hungry smile. He had started out to scare Jumper, if he could. Jumper would make a very good dinner. Yes, indeed, he would make a splendid dinner. Red-dy's Red-dy's mouth watered at the thought. Now it isn't for nothing that old Mother Nature gives things to her children and so, of course, there is a reason for the long ears of Jumper Jump-er the Hare. It is that he may be able to hear the slightest noise so that he can run away from danger, for you know he cannot fight. So as he came through the Green Forest he kept stopping every few jumps to look and listen. He had almost reached the pile of brush behind which Reddy was hiding when his long ears caught just the teeniest weeniest sound. Perhaps in his eagerness ea-gerness Reddy rustled a tiny dead leaf. Anyway, Jumper stopped short and looked very hard at the pile of brush. Reddy held his breath and his yellow eyes looked very fierce and hungry. Still Jumper sat there looking and looking and looking. It seemed to Reddy as if he never would move. Just as Reddy had about made up his mind to rush out and try to catch Jumper where he sat a heavy step sounded behind him. Reddy turned his head hastily. There was the big black stranger who had come to live in the Green Forest. Reddy didn't need to be told that it was Buster Bear. He gave one hasty look at the great claws on Buster's feet and then with a yelp of fright he tucked his tail between his legs and started for home as fast as he could run, the most frightened Fox who ever ran through the Green Forest. T. W. Burgess. WNU Service. D Love, Honor and Obey D COME ON NOW. JOUr4, DEAR--ITS TIME WE'RE MOVING SOUTH--WE'VE OEEN PUTTING IT OFF LONG ENOUGH EVECVBOOV'S 60ME ALREADY AW WAIT 'TIL AFTER SWTURDON. EMlLV-THERrS A SWELL FOOTBALL GAME UP HERE THIS ( WEEKEND THAT I WANT TO SEE BE A SPOCT. I WILL VA 1? J I I I lift 1 ' I ) IMM W FIFTHS CCCEK3.252 -A V "irtnf v -...( v. v Jl PINTS V "..If CODE m. 253 ity Z- I A rvC ,!?AXKFOI!T ! : I-- )4U Q I'ISTfM.l'IMKS. fl ; . Fienkfcri DIsti!!eries, Inc., Louisville and Baltimore "Downhill Toward Death" By FLOYD GIBBONS Famous Headline Hunter HELLO, EVERYBODY: Here's a yarn, fellow adventurers, that socks me right smack in the weakest spot I've got. You know, I am not afraid of mice, and I don't go around nights looking under beds for burglars. bur-glars. Some day I might even get used to being shot at or torpedoed, tor-pedoed, or chewed up by man-eating kangaroos. But height-altitude height-altitude elevation anything more than two inches off good, fiat, solid ground just about scares me to death. Today, reading a yarn from Adventurer Eric K. Frank of Palisades Park, N. J., I got a dose of altitude fever I couldn't very well avoid. It was quite a few miles away from here, boys and girls, and quite a few years back. The episode that is scaring the pants off of me happened on Winsel-Burg mountain in south Germany in the year 1927. Then, Eric Frank was one of a party of hardy, souls who had gone out with a guide for a skiing jaunt on the treacherous slopes of the Winsel-Burg. They had been climbing up steep paths, edging their precarious way along narrow, ice-covered ledges, skirting treacherous cliffs and dodging dangerous dan-gerous pitfalls. Finally they came out on a broad slope covered with hard-packed January snow, whose vast, glistening expanse reared itself it-self high up the mountain side, and here the leader called a halt. One of the Party Was Missing. Four hours is a long time to be climbing. That bunch of ski-pushers hunkered right down in the snow for a rest started opening up knapsacksgot knap-sacksgot out their lunches. They were all set for a nice quiet little meal in the peace and stillness of the great outdoors, but they forgot that old Mother Nature, for all that she is a quiet old dame, can be cruel and murderous when she has a mind to. The knapsacks were open the lunches out some of the crowd had started eatirs when the guide remembered a precaution highly necessary in those regions where people get lost from their parties, fall down cliffs and get stuck in crevasses. He started to check over the people in his charge to make sure none of them were missing. He counted the ganj twice, frowned, counted them again. Then, his face pale and his voice shaky, he announced that the party was short one man. Eric Frank had a queer feeling in the pit of his stomach when he heard that announcement. "I was filled with fear," he. says, "and I know everyone else was too. 1 pity anyone who gets lost in those moun- " Eric Yelled to Him to Stop. tains. Either he starves to death, freezes to death, or ends up at the bottom of a gorge with his bones broken." He put away his lunch uneatenstrapped un-eatenstrapped on his knapsack, and started out with the rest of the party to search for the lost man. Riding Fast to Sure Death. For two hours they hunted, doubling back on their own tracks, trying try-ing to find the place where he had left the party. Finally, they spotted him a rapidly moving speck, far off to the left a man on skis, hurtling at express-train speed down the side of the mountain. It was a sight that should have brought joy to that anxious little party of searchers, but it only filled them with a new and awful fear. Unfamiliar with the country, the man on skis was riding STRAIGHT TO HIS DESTRUCTION. DESTRUC-TION. The slope he was careening down so merrily ended in a steep, towering cliff. If he wasn't stopped before he got to the bottom, he would be dashed to pieces on the ice-covered rocks below. Eric thrust his feet into the toe-straps of his skis told his comrades he was going to try to head that poor devil off. "You can't do it," his friends told him. "He's too far gone. Nothing on earth could reach him in time. You'll only go over the cliff yourself." Eric didn't even hear the last of it. He was on his way, shooting down the mountainside in the direction of the doomed man and the threatening, ever-nearing cliff. The man ahead had almost a two-mile lead when Eric started. He'd need all the speed he could muster to close that gap in time to save the poor fellow from the cliff. lie raced along down the mountain, knees bent, head and chest thrust forward to lower the wind resistance using every bit of strength and skill that was in him. Saved by Eric's Desperate Measure. He was careening along now at forty miles an hour, the rush of cold air in his face making his eyes water so that he could hardly see. He crouched lower and stepped up his pace. Now he was making forty-five forty-eight fifty, and slowly gaining on the man ahead. About half a mile from the cliff's edge, he caught up with his man motioned to him to halt. Then his heart sunk as the fellow waved back at him and kept right on going. Eric yelled to him to stop. The wind ripped the words from his mouth and carried them away up the mountainside. He tried making motions again, but you can't make many motions balanced bal-anced on a pair of skis going fifty miles an hour. The edge of the cliff was only two hundred yards away now. There was one chance left and Eric took it. He whipped up his speed, passed his man, and flung himself headlong in his path. There was no mistaking that gesture. The friend braked his skis, slowed down, fell in a heap over Eric's bruised and lacerated body. When he got up again saw the edge of the cliff only fifty feet away his face turned white as the snow that had nearly carried him to his death. And after that, boys and girls, came one of the briefest conversations on record. The lad Eric had saved stood up, looked down at that gaping declivity before him, and in a weak voice said: "Oil." Eric didn't say anything. After all, what was there to say? g-WNU Service. Cymbalism Most people regard the cymbals as an unimportant instrument in an orchestra, but some of the most striking effects are obtained by them. Unless the note produced by banging them ha3 just the right timbre they are useless, and manufacturers manu-facturers . regard the production cf perfect cymbals as a hit-or-miss affair. But there is one cymbal maker, according to London Tit-Bits Magazine, who guarantees the right tone every time. For centuries his family have made cymbals, and he possesses a secret tempering process proc-ess which makes them sought after by every famous orchestra in Europe Eu-rope and America. Although he employs em-ploys dozens of assistants, the tempering tem-pering of every pair is done by him. Corn Boon to Colonists The 'first Europeans to recognize corn's importance were the English colonists on our Atlantic coast. Wheat they tried and it failed them; and when the very existence of the Massachusetts and Jamestown James-town settlements hung in precarious balance during those first hard winters, win-ters, it was corn that saved them. Capt. John Smith forced every family fam-ily of his little band to plant corn. They were rewarded handsomely. Like the sparse crops of the first dawn of civilization, it became a means of exchange, a form of money. mon-ey. Surplus corn built up trade and commerce, encouraged the growing stream of immigrants crossing the Atlantic, and opened the gates to wealth and prosperity. It .-nVv, -4&ww szdMl' Mr :r - ,S Kf . ... . - . 7 r-ifS5 LV7. CALIFORNIA WINES CHAMPAGNES BRANDY Komt Claret Port Port White Port Tokay Tokay Sherry Muscatel Muscatel Angelica 8:40 Brandy 8:40 Brandy Cbampaane Tamper rrooi Fart Qts. Qts. Tamper Proof Muscatel Ota Tamper Prooi Tokay Qts .Alcohol 20 A 1 i Tf 7 A A t ft n's v ii JL 12 UJ "'A A.. On Display Saturday, Oct. 23 ill Mawhinney ywHBr'T Coda Sbs No. Faths 779 Qts. S2S Gals. S2? Qts. S28 Qts. 1004. Gals. 1005 Qts. 1012 St. S68 als. 967 Qts. 1055 Filth 407 Pts. 408 900 953 892 1015 90 Prool I ,-i ' rf- |