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Page Four THE COLBORNE EXPRESS, THURSDAY, JUNE 1st, 1944 OOOCOOCXXXXXXXXXXICXXXXXXJOO ««npHANK ye," said the druggist as ■■■ he tied up the perfume, "here's yuh change." Josie took the package, and with a slight nod swept majestically out of the store on the Bowery. Josie McCarthy was a spinster, fifty-seven years old, and although time had not endowed her with charm, he had generously lavished her with avoirdupois. Josie lived all alone on the top floor of a three-family brown-stone house on Oliver street. She had lived there for 29 years. Everybody on the street knew wno sue was and where she came from. They even knew, to a great extent, how she spent her time. But nobody knew Josie, until one day, the Hochmeyers moved Into her house. One morning Mrs. Hochmeyer's bell rang furiously. "Who is it?" she shouted good-naturedly at the top of her lungs as she flung a spoonful of salt Into the soup. "Candy for Miss McCarthy!" came (back from the other side of the door. "Next floor," Mrs. Hochmeyer in-Jotmed the messenger. "Miss McCarthy lives upstairs." "Well, land's sakes!" she remarked to herself. "That's a surprise. Who could be sending Josie some candy? It ain't Christmas." As soon as she heard the messenger's footsteps going past her door on his way down, she put out the fire under the soup and ran upstairs. Not that she expected to be invited in to ■hare the gift, but Mrs. Hochmeyer had an uncanny instinct for news and knew that she would discover nothing about the mysterious box of candy by staying downstairs and peeling onions. To her surprise Josle's door was slightly ajar, and she could hear her voice issuing forth in dulcet tones. Mrs. Hochmeyer grinned complacently to herself and sat down to listen on the steps. "Yes, dear," Josie was saying with a giggle, "I just received your lovely box of chocolates. He-he-he! Thank you so much, sweetheart. How did yon guess the kind I liked? . . . "What's that, Henry? . . . "Oh, yes, I'd love to. Please do "No, don't bring : e any more flow- era. . . . "All right, sweetheart. . . . "Yes, dear, I think of you all the time. . . ." Mrs. Hochmeyer's jaw dropped in amazement, Josie with a lover? Josie receiving gifts? Why, why, this was Indeed a momentous discovery! Josie, whose double chin shook as she •walked, and whose neck was coyly encircled in a black velvet ribbon, re-receiving telephone calls from a man? Mrs. Hochmeyer's chest expanded ■with excitement and she took a deep breath. Then she took another. And • third inquisitive sniff. As days went by, Josie's gifts from her unknown admirer became more and more frequent. Mrs. Hochmeyer usually knew about the candy, because sometimes the messenger rang her bell by mistake, and other times she would poke her head out of the door when she thought she recognized strange footsteps going upstairs. It was always the messenger boy, and to her great regret Mrs. Hochmeyer never once encountered the gentleman who could pass for Josle's swain. On Monday morning Mrs. Hochmeyer could stand the suspense no longer and decided to march boldly upstairs to Josie's apartment. In answer to her knock, the door was opened by a transformed Josie, clad In a brilliant pink silk negligee and exuding an overwhelming odor of perfume. The apparition transfixed Mrs. Hochmeyer. "Come in," cooed Josie sweetly. The visitor did not wait to be asked again. She stepped into the parlor and pounced on a chair before Josie could change her mind. "I'm so tired," yawned Josie as she settled her voluminous self on the sofa, while Mrs. Hochmeyer's searching eyes had already discovered two used wine glasses and a half empty fire-pound box of candy on the table. "I'm so tired, we were up so late last night." "We?" queried her neighbor politely. "Yes, me and my gentleman friend. He's an awful nice man; very refined; but he never lets me have a minute's peace. Always calling me up and coming to see me. But he's very refined. Did we disturb you last night?" "Oh, no, we didn't hear a sound." The conversation then turned to a discussion of lingerie. A few days later Mrs. Hochmeyer went upstairs again; but this time she really had to borrow some matches. She noticed the door once more sllght- Ily ajar, and pausing at the top step.te regain her breath, she overheard Josie at the telephone. "No, sweetheart," lisped the amorous one, "I can't go to the opera tonight My dress won't be ready on time. . . . "Yes, perhaps Friday will be all right. . . . "Henry, dear, don't forget to . . ." Just then Josie's telephone rang. And Josie gave a startled sob as she saw ber neighbor from the corner of her eye. Mrs. Hochmeyer decided not to go In. The next morning Josie suddenly became ill, and since there were relatives, she was taken to the bs» jttaL She tie* the toUewlag weak. "Down in Hah-wah-ya, Where the lovin' is free, A red-headed girl Made a wreck out of me. And there never was a wreck Like the wreck she mai The voice that gave utterance to this thrilling sentiment was deep and full. And the man from whom the voice came looked about as much like a wreck as a dreadnaught Just off the ways. He was somewhat over six feet in height, had a Jack Dempsey chest, a tanned face, blue eyes and engaging smile. His name was Howard Folwell. He was singing as he strode back and forth In the basement of the Riverside Country club waiting for his companions to array themselves in golf attire and sally forth with him to whang the ball around the course for an hour or two. But though he sang and though he seemed carefree and happy, there really was a cloud on Folwell's life. The cloud was the fact that Beatrice Jackson, holder of the women's championship at the Riverside club, scorned his advances and smiled sweetly upon Lem Wheeling, rival of Folwell in love, in business and In golf. Just the evening before Beatrice had told Folwell In no uncertain terms that she never, never, never could care for a man who sliced his drives and was a dub with a putter. Which was pretty hard on Folwell since he was all that and a little bit more. So it wasn't surprising that Folwell, In singing about the girl who had made a wreck of his career, put a depth of feeling into the ditty that called forth groans and yelps from the assembled listeners "Say, old top," exclaimed one of 'if yo put as much :o trying to cut out r drive you'd be a Folwell's friends, time and effort your slice on j whirlwind." "As a singer you're a wonderful golf player and as a go! fist you're a knock out as a singer!" exclaimed another of the men. Whereupon Folwell turned the lockers with the intention of messing up things a bit with the playful maulings of his two-ton paw, when through a window In the basement he saw Beatrice pass by with hated Lem Wheeling close beside her. At this sight wrath rose in Folwell's heart. He saw red. He had an intense desire to seize Lem by the neck of his fancy silk shirt and rend him asunder. And with this feeling governing his actions, Folwell hurried from the basement out into the hot By this time Beatrice and Lem were at the first tee prepared to drive off. Beatrice, turning back toward the clubhouse, saw Folwell scowling at her. "Hello, Hod," she cried. "Watch this!" Gracefully, efficiently, Beatrice addressed the ball and then socked it down the course for a good 200 yards. Folwell watched her sullenly. It had been many a long day since be had made a 200-yard drive. "Now if I could only do as well as that, or better," sighed Folwell to himself, "there'd be nothing to it; she'd be mine before the week's over. But It can't be done--a dub like me can never get good. I wish something would happen, dawgone It I" Perhaps Folwell's wish was responsible for it--who knows?--but at any rate something did happen just a moment or so later, something which had a deep and lasting effect on Folwell's As Folwell stood gazing disconsolately after Beatrice and Lem, he became conscious of the fact that his favorite caddy was standing close to him, watching him with keen eyes. Contrary to the usual situation, this caddy Idolized Folwell In spite of the letter's poor playing. Always the caddy prophesied a brilliant future for Folwell at the ancient game of golf, provided only he could get the proper amount of confidence In his own ability. Now the caddy came close and whispered to Folwell mysteriously. "Say, you can beat out that guy. I got the dope. My brother's an Inventor, see? He's invented a vacuum golf ball. It's almost as light as air. It'll go a mile if you hit it an easy-swat. You use this ball. Show up this AVheeling guy. Win the dame. See?" "Huh?" gasped Folwell, In great astonishment. "You hold me--you hold me!" exclaimed the caddy. "I'll tee It up for yon. Then you hit It--just nice an' easy. Don't strain. Just watch It go. Nobody can stop it." The caddy's excitement and enthusiasm communicated themselves to Folwell. In intense hopefulness he watched the caddy tee the ball. Then he gripped his club loosely as the caddy straightened up; He heard the caddy yell "Fore" and saw Beatrice and Lem about 250 yards ahead of him turn and look and then laugh, as though amused at the mere thought that he might drive that far. The caddy's confidence, the scorn of Beatrice and Lem, nerved PelvnH to a great effort. VERNONVILLE LAKEPORT May 30th, 1944 May 30th, 1944 Gordon Broomfield and George Whitehead shot a wildcat in tree west of Gleason's Corners. It had been killing chickens in the neighbourhood for some time. Quite a number from this district spent the 24th at Cobourg and viewed the new Corvette, H. M. C. S. "Cobourg." Decoration service at Vernonville Cemetery will be on Sunday, June I 18th. Mr. and Mrs. C. Simpson spent-Tuesday with friends at Campbellford. Mr. and Mrs. M. McGregor, Castleton, spent a day last week with their daughter, Mrs. N. Fitchett and family. Mrs. C. B. Turk had some land plowed for the school children to plant a Victory garden, each child having his or her own plot. Gnr. Hartley Simpson, who has returned to his home at Ottawa, after four years service overseas, visited relatives here recently. Pte. Russell Warner, Kingston, has been spending a few days with his wife and faimly and his mother, Mrs. Meda Warner. Mrs. J. Calnan and daughters Reta and Mary visited Mrs. N. Drumm on Sunday. Mrs. Drumm has been very sick. Sympathy of the community goes out to Mrs. C. B. Turk in the loss of her brother, the late Mr. Albert Birney. Mrs Fred Graham and son, Mr. Alymer Tripp attended the funeral of Miss Martha Flemming, at Centre-ton on Thursday last week. 4 felt is vitally important that all cjirdboard, corrugated paper, brown paper, magazines and newspapers be salvaged announces the W.P.T.B. : Mr. Jas. Kernaghan, Toronto, spent Sunday at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Wm. Kernaghan. Mr. and Mrs. M. McGregor and Mr. and Mrs. E. Gaudour, Castleton, were Sunday visitors of Mr. and Mrs. B. Warner. Congratulations to Mr. and Mrs. Neil Stevens on the birth of a son, Saturday, May 27th. Mrs. A. T. Waite on Sunday. j The Beef Ring started for the pmmer months on Saturday. I The W.A. and the W.M.S. met in the Sunday School hall on Thursday afternoon. There were eight present and sewing was done for a missionary bale. The program was from the Missionary Monthly. Mrs. C. B. Turk and Mrs. Charles McKenzie (Lakeport) attended the funeral of their brother, Mr. Albert Birney, at Oak Heights Church on Saturday. Mr. Howard Fraser and £Irs. N. Turk also attended. day. I Mr. Aylmer Tripp visited Mr. Wm. Graham and Mrs. Devine and family $t Castleton on Sunday. Mr. and Mrs. R. Fitchett and family visited her parents, Mr. and Mrs. M. McGregor, Castleton, on Sunday. Miss Marion Deviney, Peterboro, spent the weekend at her home here. Mrs. N. Linquest, Dorothy and ^'1X^!c>et«. and friend of T°ront0' and Andy Linquest, R.C.A.F., Trenton, and Mr. Ray Waite and son Donald were guests of Mr. and Mrs. A. T. Waite on Sunday. Mr. Percy Smith visited friends at Toronto on Sunday. Tuesday with Miss Flossie Herron. Mr. and Mrs. A. T. Waite visited Mrs. I. Anderson and Dr. Jamleson, at Wicklow. Mr. and Mrs. N. Fitchett and children, Castleton, called on Mr. and PROPERTY FOR SALE 150 acres of real good land, good buildings, well fenced, plenty of running water, near to church, school and store. 112 acres of a choice farm, 2 sets of first-class buildings, choice location, Hydro installed. $7,000. FARM, 5 acres, choice garden land, newly built frame house, cottage design, soft and hard water, good cellar, barn 30x48 ft, stable for 5 head, good hen house, good garage. This property is within li/2 miles of Colborne. Sacrifice for quick sale. FARM, 75 acres, well watered and fenced, good level land, good buildings, on county road. See this one--$1500. FARM, 65 acres more or less, lot 34f con. 6, Cramahe Township, mostly workable, trout stream, frame house, 6 rooms, bank barn. SOLID BRICK HOUSE, 7 rooms, with modern conveniences, barn, half acre of land, in Village of Colborne. Persons having properties for sale are invited to list them with the undersigned. We pay for advertising. S. E. ROBINSON Auctioneer and Real Estate Agent PHONE 78r23 COLBORNE, Ontario Magazine Subscriptions We are Subscription Agents for all LEADING CANADIAN, ENGLISH AND AMERICAN PERIODICALS Also Foreign Ones most likely to be asked for GET OUR CLUBBING OFFERS ! Reduced Rates on Any Combination of Magazines THE EXPRESS Phone 44 Printing Office Colborne r I dreamed that I paid $5.00 for a haircut and $50.00 for a pair of cardboard shoes. *i dreamed that we had no wartime controls on prices, profits or wages, and that we hadn't had the sense to organize the distribution of supplies all the way down the line . . . I dreamed that because everyone was making more money and spending it, prices were skyrocketing. all the stores looked like "fire" sales . . . with people scrambling to buy before prices went still higher . . . panicky people were buying things they didn't need, and hoarding everything they could get their hands on . . . I dreamed that everybody had to fight to get more money . . . and that in this mad race, wages and salaries were falling behind. I dreamed the hand of everyone was against his neighbour, with each of us blaming the other fellow for his troubles. with everybody for himself . . . no matter what it cost in the long run . . . and no matter how it hurt effort. to realize with relief that I live in a country where things are sane and stable "... where the cost of living has been kept within bounds. to realize that prices and wages--production costs and selling prices--are Inseparably linked together. to realize that without the safeguards that have headed off Inflation, my nightmare might have become a reality! to remind myself that the danger is still pressing and that we must continue to hold firm . . . and that means everybody must play fair and do his part by not trying to get some temporary, fancied advantage at Hie expense of his fellow-Canadians.