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Show nie Silveir Flute Nq By Lida Lawimore has; , Maorae-Smltb, Company WNU Service H - :,lHyn; SYNOPSIS '"cti: on her lg;hteenth birthday, Bar-l0"t Bar-l0"t I; bara, motherless daughter of Chris-Of Chris-Of thf' topher Thorne, artist, receives a birth-' birth-' day ring from Bruce MacLain, young b e". rtlst friend of the family, but more lence ; than friend to Barbara. Barbara and Who (. Bruce go picnicking. He tells her a )U"ht tory of a gypsy boy, a little gypsy 1 girl whom he loves, and the song of a -tain 5 .,Hver flute. She knows it Is her own e tl)( love tal- Her father Is killed In an accident. Relatives arrive and take charge of things. Barbara fears the r II children's separation and its effects, goven Desperate, she plans to take her two f v, brothers and sister and run away to her . "E.sodfather, "Uncle Stephen" Drake. He, 'try d a bachelor, forty years old, still has lre po! Tivld recollections of Barbara's mother moth-er '-r, whom he had loved eighteen years 3 , before. He had made up his mind to ?r hav propose that night to Emily Trent, so 'f the; that his well-ordered household might ow Kp have a permanent head. But the ar-j ar-j ' ; rival of the children interrupts the pro-!lSai pro-!lSai posal. Barbara tells him why they ran rnmet away, and he feels his heart warm to i whicj the Drav daughter of his early love. jf .' But he tells her he must send them all Cltl back. Kit Is taken ill. Stephen finds manne himself strangely unable to resume his lover-like feeling for Emily. de got 1 as I CHAPTER VIII ;se is- 0fS(i Uncle Herbert was very angry, in- 0 I11 deed. Stephen realized that when whlc! Uncle Herbert exploded In the office. spm- He was glad he had sent him the office year gddregg The children would be spared the worst of the explosion. 11 Aunt Lola, who had come with Uncle CUSSPi1 I Herbert to represent the relatives, a' wasn't angry. She was merely very 1 much hurt. It was Barbara's fault, ' .'T"' she repeated, whenever Uncle Herbert paused to catch a breath. Dear little wrot( Gay would never have thought of such COT'- a thing. Barbara, she feared, was like 1 her mother, willful and headstrong, reigtii with no proper regard for other peo-)ed peo-)ed t( pie's feelings. "Barbara is an unusual child," offices Stephen said, nettled by Aunt Lola's ars 1 remarks. "Impulsive, perhaps. But not on'J headstrong. She wanted to keep the 'e arf -children together." 1 tM' "A notion! All a notion!" ncle urely, Herbert stormed. radio ye cann Diame her too much, I a" .fluppose," Aunt Lola said with a flut- - air, tering sigh. "It's the way she has been prnl' brought up. Christopher Thorne ei' wns " Respect for the dead caused Doard unf Loa t0 pause. But her expres- an sion Implied many things. "Poor Bar- ment bara !" She sighed again. "I'm afraid he hadn't a happy life." I a Stephen had thought her the hap-SS10D hap-SS10D plest person he had ever known the and Barbara he had loved. Through Uncle :hree Herbert's voice, he heard her voice, :row- gay an(j amused . through Aunt Lola's iveen perfume, which was making his head bors, ache a little, he smelled the roses imis- 0f southern France. It seemed an act and of treachery to Barbara to deliver her ards children into the hands of the enemy. The But what in the world could he do? t,ie "Kit is a bit ill," he said when ould Uncle Herbert's rage had subsided a inns little and Aunt Lola had ceased to The elgh. "We'll have to keep him a week 'tab- or two." .inst Tjncie Herbert's expression Indicated is 8 that this was the final Indignity. 3 " "I must get back to the office," he tliat aid, louder than was necessary. "I have wasted a great real of time." :ivil "There's no reason for you to stay." ans Stephen felt that his patience was fed- fraying at the edges. "We'll send Kit nl? to you as soon as he Is well enough and to travel." hat "What about Jamie?" Aunt Lola ! of asked. "Aunt Josephine is very much ent annoyed." She thought of the irate use old lady in the red brick Providence ing house. ma- Stephen thought of her, too as Barbara Bar-bara had described her. He felt a up disturbing desire to guard and protect hut ne children. He knew It was an unrea- he onable desire. But it seemed a shame reg that Barbara should be forced to live where she had once been so unhappy. g He was reluctant to send her to Provl- ac dence. Stephen, of course, knew noth- nv Ing at all about Bruce. jty "I can take Gay at once, I suppose?" j p. Aunt Lola asked. "There are such At delightful children at the hotel. I'm ,e sure she will have a lovely time." eTi Hotel children! Stephen thought ag with a silent groan. He had seen thera an In many places, pert, over-dressed girls, little boys who bullied the ng porters and maids and smoked clg- m. arettes on the sly. Gay hadn't Bar- e(J bara's character. Looking at Aunt Lola, It was easy to see what pretty Cay would probably become. Still, ip" there was no reason why he should c make himself responsible, ne was "e sorry for the four Thornes. But what In the world could he do? ,e" "I suppose so," he said with no great f" enthusiasm. Gay, he thought, would ,r be entirely willing to go with Aunt s' Lola. r" But Gay surprised him, when they 'n reached Stephen's home that after- r" coon. She sat on the side of the c' huge bed helping Kit fit together one v of the picture puzzles. Barbara had been reading aloud to Jamie when e Stephen brought Aunt Lola and Uncle II Herbert Into the room. The reading a had stopped abruptly and the color 'i had paled from her cheeks. A little of e It returned when Gay said, sweetly but r firmly : e "Oh no, Aunt Lola. I can't leave Kit t -when he's sick." "But we mustn't impose on Mr. Drake." Aunt Lola was hurt by Gay's Sack of Interest In the trip to Florida. "Are we Imposing?" Gay asked, glancing up at Stephen from under her long curled lashes. They all looked at Stephen, Barbara, Bar-bara, Kit, Gay and Jamie. He felt that he couldn't fail them. "It's pleasant having you here," he said and realized, with a start of surprise, sur-prise, that what he said was true. Aunt Lola was plaintive but Gay was firm. She couldn't leave Kit when he was sick. If Uncle Stephen didn't mind, she would very much rather stay. "Uncle Stephen" didn't mind. It was decided that Gay should go to Florida later. Uncle Herbert behaved very well. An excellent luncheon had mellowed his temper. He scolded the children for running away, in a somewhat jocular fashion. He asked Kit riddles and tousled Gay's curls and admired Jamie's electric trains. He was agreeable agree-able to Barbara. He produced a checkbook check-book and pen. "That's quite all right," Stephen said. "Let me take care of them, please." "Couldn't think of It, Mr. Drake." Uncle Herbert was pompous and dignified. dig-nified. The family pride was at stake. "I'd rather. They are my guests. I have some claim on them, you know," he added with a smile. "Barbara Is my little fiilette." "My little fiilette!" . . . Barbara felt a singing inside of herself. Uncle Stephen, she thought, was the kindest man in the world. "If you insist " Uncle Herbert said doubtfully. "I certainly do." "Well, well " The checkbook was restored to Uncle Herbert's pocket. He looked kindly at the children. "We can't expect old heads on young shoulders, shoul-ders, I suppose," he said to Stephen and accepted another cigar. They left some time later, declining an Invitation to dinner. The children greeted him jubilantly when Stephen returned to the room where Kit lay, propped against pillows, after Aunt Lola and Uncle Herbert had gone. Jamie and Gay fell upon him with rapturous cries. Stephen felt himself smothered in thin young arms and lusty bear-like embraces. It did something strange to his heart. He looked over their heads at Barbara standing beside Kit's bed. Her eyes thanked him. She smiled her gayest smile. Bless them, he thought, with a lump in his throat. What jolly young-.sters young-.sters they were ! They sang lustily to tell Uncle Stephen how very happy they were. Aunt Edith opened the door, her face beneath waved white hair very stern and disapproving. "The doctor advised rest and quiet," she said when she could be heard. "A little pleasant excitement won't hurt him." Stephen smiled at Kit, propped against the pillows. "We're celebrating," he said. "The enemy has been routed." "Whoopee !" Jamie shouted, his freckled face shining with happy excitement. ex-citement. They swung into the chorus again. "Chips" barked, Jamie, to Aunt Edith's horror, beat time with a pair of drumsticks drum-sticks that used to be Stephen's against the foot of the bed. Kit tinkled the spoon against the glass and croaked like a happy bullfrog. "Gracious !" Aunt Edith thought and buttoned her Hps together. That evening Barbara wrote to Bruce "... Kit is sick, but not very, just a cold and a temperature. I was worried wor-ried but Kit says It's 'an act of Providence' Provi-dence' you know the old-fashioned way he talks. Anyhow, Uncle Stephen will let us stay here until Kit Is better, although he was provoked about ui running away. I think he's getting to like us a little. He brought us presents pres-ents last night a lovely necklace for me and he has been so kind about Kit. "Aunt Lola and Uncle Herbert came today but they were very polite. I think they were impressed by Uncle Stephen's home. It's very elegant, Bruce. It's built out of stone with Ivy all over It and stables (only they don't have horses now) and greenhouses and lawns and gardens and lovely trees. And a butler!!! What do you think of that? It's a very educating experience to live In a house that has a name and a butler and cords with tassels to ring for the servants. "There is a library just full of books -and a drawing room all full of rosewood rose-wood furniture and chandeliers with glass Icicles dripping from thera and cabinets full of the loveliest things; little jade trees and ivory elephants and flowers made out of glass. And a conservatory ! ! ! I didn't know people had conservatories and drawing rooms except In books, did you. Bruce darling? dar-ling? But, of course, this is a very old house. "We have a great deal to live up to because, although Mother's relatives are 'well to do,' they don't live In places like this. Gay is simply entranced! en-tranced! You know how she loves elegance! Rut I wish we were back In Provincetown with Martha scolding us and Manuel playing his accordion and Father coming in from the studio with paint on his trousers and his hair all mussed up. making joks and tell Ing us stories the way he u.red to da i (TO BE CONTINUED.) with 1rout and salmon; forests and barrens where fur-bearing animals roam. Eskimos and whites live along the coast, Indians in the interior. Pulpwood and Lumber. "Besides minerals, other wealth lurks in Newfoundland's mainland domain. do-main. There are pulpwood and lumber lum-ber In the southern forests of black spruce and white spruce, birch, cedar, poplar, and balsam fir; and 'white gold' lies latent in cataracts like Musk-rat Musk-rat falls. Grand falls, twice as high as Niagara, could be harnessed, it is estimated, to produce more than 1,000,-000 1,000,-000 horse power for a part of each year. "But the sea, not the land, is Labrador's Labra-dor's chief source of wealth today. So it has been since Cabot, letting down baskets into the sea, scooped them up full of codfish. Cod is still king on this coast, to the transient summer fisherman from Newfoundland, and the 'liveyere,' who 'lives here' In Labrador all year round. "Neither 'liveyere' nor Newfoundlander Newfound-lander speaks of cod by that name. Salmon Is salmon and trout Is trout; but cod is always 'fish.' "The 'liveyere,' like many Newfoundlanders, Newfound-landers, depends chiefly on the cod fishery for money to buy tea, flour, salt, pork, and molasses for the winter. When the cod 'sets in shore,' he leaves bis home and potato patch at the head of the Inlet or fjord, and moves down to a shack on the outer' coast for the summer. When the cod is running, he works 20 hours at a stretch. "Back home after winter sets In, he hunts and traps for fur, shoots ducks, and goes on a 'cruise' (visit) to neighbors, traveling from 40 to 400 miles over snow and Ice In a dog-drawn dog-drawn komatik, or sled. Furs Source of Wealth. "Sometimes a mission holds a fair, and dog teams gallop in from miles around with sled-loads of families. The men hold a shooting match, with a barrel of flour as the prize. The girls fill supper baskets, and the young men bid for them and the supper partner who goes with them. "Rich furs fox and ermine, mink and otter, beaver and bear and musk- |