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NCE upon a time Robinson Crusoe became stranded on a lonely island. Q,Now, instead of weeping and bemoaning his misfortune, he showed good horse senseâ€"and ADVERTISED. Yes, sir, he put up a white flagâ€"on a pole on the highest peak of the island. As one copy, or piece of elothing became worn out he put up a new one. Things looked pretty bad for a time, but Rob. kept his ad in the air. Then one day he got what he was advertising for. A vessel passing far out at sea noticed his ad. ar" came and took him home. Can you imagine old R. C. saying to anyone ths A j Phonesâ€"Weston 74 l_r_ixouse. It takes building skill and the proper lumber."â€"says Practy Cal. GRAAMAMâ€"PAIGE IRVIN LUMBER CO., Advanced Engineering & in the New 6120 Five chassisâ€"sixes and eightsâ€"prices ranging from $1095 to $3210. Car illusâ€" trated is Model 612, six cylinder, five passenger, two door Sedan, $1095 (special equipment extra)., All prices â€"£. o. b, Windsor, taxes extra. WEDNESDAY,MAY 15, 1929 "It takes more than good intentions to build a good FOR SALE BY J. A. YEO 3 Little Ave. LIMITED C,. E. CALHOUN You will find the same principles of modern design and advanced engineerâ€" ing in the new Model 612 that distinâ€" guish the larger Grahamâ€"Paige sixes and eights. We invite you to examine the 612 for surplus value, and to make your own comparisons. ‘ j WESTON IJUnction 9662 © zfld%DA (fé‘\â€"ao(wm/ t ifiX Phone 195 When I returned to my bachelor rooms in town I had only time to change to some dry clothing and hurry over to the rehearsal without getting anything to eat. Food did not appeal to me anyway. Neither did anything else least of all rehearsing a lot of fool loveâ€"talk. My own romance had suffered such a disheartening setâ€"back that I was in no mood to enact the role of a handâ€"hammered Romeo of mythology. _ 5 we were scheduled to give a trial perâ€" formance in the barn at the Old Solâ€" diers‘ Home. The trial performance was for the double purpose of @etting easy in our parts and of making the old soldiers realize that war is not so terrible after all. But I went just the same. You know how hard it is to sten out of the rouâ€" tine business of your life just because some disaster has befallen you. Your perceptions become numbed and you wonder vaguely why the sun is shinâ€" ing, but you go on doing the things that are expected of you just as you have always done. â€" Toâ€"night was to be the dress reâ€" }Esarsal and on the following evening "Business as usual" is not the motto of an exceptional nation. It is the unâ€" derlving principle of the progress of the human race. Maryella‘s suggestion carried. As the literary man of the organization, I was appointed to doctor . up the manuscript to fit the change of chareâ€" ters. Later, much to my surprise and in spite of my protets, the stellar role of Pygmalion was forced upon me. The Sheridan Dramatic Club had borrowed for rehearsals the stage of For a time it looked as if we would have to fall back on some little sketch of Shakespeare‘s until Maryâ€" ella made the practical suggestion that we change the story. Her idea was to make Galatea a seulptorine who hammers a hunk of stone into a beautiful male statue by the name of Pygmalion. â€" _Can you imagine an antiâ€"feminist thinking up a thought like that ? We started out to renearse it that way, but ran into difficulties when the matter of costumes came up for disâ€" cussion. It seemed advisable that the statue should wear white tights and white greaseâ€"paint on the face in order to carry out the illusion. All the ladies of the club were quite conâ€" tent that it should be so, but when it came to assigning the parts each and every one refused to be Galatea. Rehearsal Our version of "Pygomalion and Galatea" would doubtless surprise you if you are at all familiar with the original, in which Yygmalion is the artist and carves the lady in the sketch out of a block of marble. Tom Bilbeck is the narrator. He is a fat newspaper writer who drives a tumbleâ€"down car he calls Grandmother Page. He is in love Maryella, his rivâ€" al being Jim Cooper. The three are members of an amateur dramatic group. Plans for a play at the Old Soldier‘s Home are under way. Grandâ€" mother Page has engiine trouble while Maryella is out driving with Bilâ€" beck, and Cooper, passing in a big roadster taunts him. After Maryella has left, Bilbeck is able to start his car again. Now Go on With The Story CHAPTER 11 SECOND INSTALLMENT ";YQ‘\ y / PÂ¥ EL. |y " uj â€"rJ Af'; . PA ~â€"FRANC R ADAMY dR SCM ITR;ZNM (1297â€"30 Ki t THE WESTON TIMES & CUIDLE _ "Well," I temporized, "I _ didn‘t t}fiink I knew you well enough for that"" f "The play is ruined," she declared. "Not at all," Iâ€" said with as much injured dignity as I could command in white tights. "You can easily get some one else to play this part. If you look around the club you can doubtless find someone with legs like beanâ€"poles." "But no one ever saw a bowâ€"legged statue before," she argued petulantly. "I don‘t care personally. I suppose that lots of really estimable men have personal peculiarities; but can you imâ€" agine a sculptor creating a statue inâ€" tentionally bowâ€"legged"? â€" Why didn‘t you tell me?" she wailed "Why didn‘t you tell me ?" _ & uOh!yi That was, a sensitive subject with me. "I didn‘t know there was anything criminal in being slightly curved. It really comes from strength. Lots of men are." 148 "Why not try standing sideways to the audience all the time,‘ suggested Jim Cooper, who with his noseâ€"glasses on and a cigarette in his mouth was the beau ideal of a Greek warrior. "I know what to do." Mrs. Hemmingway came to the rescue with a practical suggestion. ‘"No," she stopped him impatiently. "I know my lines. ‘It‘s the statue.‘ Her tone was full of vexation. "What‘s the matter," I inquired, without abandoning _ my _ attitude. "This is the same pose I‘ve been takâ€" ing every night at rehearsal ever since we began." "It isn‘t that. You are bowâ€"legged." She spoke accusingly, as if I had made a blunder of some sort on purâ€" pose. _ "Come, people,‘"‘ interrupted _ the coach pleasantly. "We mustn‘t waste time. Remember there is a lot to do before we leave here this evening." "Don‘t be silly,‘"" she replied. "No one else could learn the part in time." "©You can bl_fy a pair of those Atvfli'ngs that chorus girls wear soretimesâ€" She knew whom I meant without my explaining more particularly. _ She held her pose for a long time without saying a wordâ€"without exâ€" pressing even a whispered wish that I would come to life. Maryella was wordless. ‘"What‘s the trouble?" inquired the coach, who stood,,book in hand, just over the footâ€"lights. ‘"Miss Waite, your line is, ‘My dearest wishâ€"‘ " Galatea entered. She was dressed in a goldâ€"trimmed robe. On her neck was a single strand of beautiful pearls. I recognized them as Mrs. Hemmingway‘s. Maryvella had borâ€" rowed them _ because their owner couldn‘t wear them for the â€" perforâ€" mance, as she was playing the part of a iboy. T stood motionless during the introâ€" ductory music. There was a flutter of surprise among the members of the club who were not on the stage at that moment and=â€"had stepped out into the auditorium to steal a look from the other side of the foot: lights. It must have been beautiful. I know I was conscious of _ lookin well in that pose and lighting. gi‘ flexed my muscles to make them stand out better. Galatea‘s eyes were on the floor, pensive. She came slowly to the pedâ€" estal on which I stood. iShe knelt. She looked up. The curtain was down between the acts. I took my place on the pedestal, slightly nervous .but determined to get through somehow if the seams of the tights did their<part. The stage was dimly illuminated with blue moon light. Just before the curtain rose I dropped the overcoat behind me. I slipped into my dressingâ€"room unobserved. My costume was there. I had not seen it before, so I was a trifle surprised at the bulk of it. The whole thing could have been put in the pocket of a dress waistcoat without spoiling the shape of it any. It was silk and white, but it seemed awfully thin, I playedâ€"safe by wearâ€" ing my underwear beneath it. ‘There was no fullâ€"length mirror in my room, so I could not get the enâ€" tire effect, but it looked all right as far as I could see. It was easy to make up my face all white and put on a white wig which was provided for me. I slipped on my overcoat over the costume to step up on the stage. Off stage, doing a piece of emâ€" broidery while she waited for her cue, was Mrs. George P. Lillielove, the wife of the most popular undertaker in town. In Greek robes Mrs. Lillieâ€" love looked almost exactly like a hayâ€" stack with a tarpaulin over it. There were a dozen other parts played with intent to kill in the good old amateur . way. I _ discovered former male friends hidden behind bushy ‘beards that dropped off ocâ€" casionally at a critical moment, leavâ€" ing the actor baldâ€"faced and speechâ€" less; and ladies I used to know disâ€" guised as Hellenic maidens by doing their hair into a Psyche knot and trimming their best nighties with a Greek keyâ€"design and an occasional swastika. The part of a young seulptor‘s apâ€" prentice was taken by Mrs. Hemmingâ€" way, a dazzling blond who was worth going miles to behold in a _ short Greek _ tunic and . sandals. _ She wouldn‘t have fooled anyone but a blind man into thinking she was a boy, but nobody. minded that. She had talents enough to get into a Ziegfield chorus any day. He was even thinner than I had susâ€" pected. As a Highlander he would never be a conspicuous success. Any ongmcould tellnthat at a glance. I was late, but it didn‘t make much difference, as all during the first act the statue of Pygmalion was a papierâ€" mache figure. Between the acts I was supposed to take the place of the statue in the same pose so that a little later I could comeâ€"to life in response to Galatea‘s wish. When I came in they were rehearsâ€" ing with the dummy. Everything apâ€" peared to be going very well. Maryella looked absolutely ravishing in _ the Greek drapery, and Jim Cooper was doing the best he could to impersonate a skinny Greek warior. the local operaâ€"house, which was vaâ€" cant that week. It was there that I wended my disconsolate way.. "Yes. I didn‘t realize it so much until I saw the costumes. I didn‘t know you were going to be a clown." iShe pointed my white face. I suppose she would have laughed herself sick at the Venus de â€" Milo. I made up my mina to withdraw from the Sheridan Dramatic Club as soon as the performance of "Pygmaâ€" lio and Galatea" was over.. I would not leave them in the lurch now, as I might do and wreck the entire perâ€" formance; but as soon as it would not be conspicuous I would assert my digâ€" nity and résign on the ground that it took too much of my time. I admired Maryella, but she could hardly expect me to stand for being made fun of before Jim Cooper. «J I looked around. In the aisle stood Mrs. Hemmingway, a plump ‘sylph in the halfâ€"light of the auditorium. She apparently wanted to sit down, so I made room for her beside me. ‘You think it is quite funny ?" repated interrogatively. The only scene that I played with any enthusiasm was one in which I was supposed to wrestle with Jim Cooper in the role of the Greek warâ€" rior. Even that turned out ill for me because it made his head ache where I bumped it on the stage, and Maryella hovered over him like a hen with chickens all during the intermission while they were setting the stage for the third act. I got tired of listening to her symâ€" Eathizing with him and went out in he auditorium by myself. I did not care to talk to any one. To criticize my acting was one thing, but to make personal remarks about the shape of my legs was going too far. "I think it is an awfully funny play; don‘t you," inquired a voice behind The balance of the act was plowed through somehow. I had to play sevâ€" eral loveâ€"scenes with Maryella, but I was so acutely conscious of her critiâ€" cism. that I did them very badly. s "No, I don‘t wear them myself," she assured them in response to the unâ€" spoken question, "but I‘ve heard that there are such things." "All right," said the coach. 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