Mt. Pleasant Daily Times (Mount Pleasant, Tex.), Vol. 34, No. 173, Ed. 1 Tuesday, November 17, 1953 Page: 2 of 6
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Mt. Pleasant, Texas, Daily Times, Tuesdlay Evening, November 17, 1953
Christine Engaged
KISS FOR CINDERELLA
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TAILOR MADE AUTO SEAT COVERS - VIRGIL COPELAND
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OLD SHOE COMFORT
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NEW SHOE APPEARANCE
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their heads, they had no cloth-
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a single apple between them
and they called it Paradise!"
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Boyle’s Column
By Hal Boyle
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&usness Mirror
By Ed Morse
For Sam Dawson
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EARP INFACEWREPESLWy- 11
900 >EARS AGO,1 f
gloves, and white
jacket.
Who would ever
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HIS MOTHER'S HOME
SO HE PACKED UP-'
I'LL MISS HIM AROUND
THE HOUSE .'HE SURE
WAS A LIVEWIRE.!
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MEV, JED6E!!
COME BACK HERE !!
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BENNY MAS
A NEW BABY
ML PLEASANT DAILY TIMES
Mt Published dalivexcevt Saturday and Sunday at 307 West 3rd St.
HUGH C. CROSS and MRS. EARL M. PORTER
________ Owners and Publishers
Entered as second class matter at the Post Office at Mt Pleasant
Texas, under the Act of Congress, March 3, 1879. peasant
..Any, erroneous reflections upon the character, standing or renu-
tationaot.anysperson or. concern that may appear in the columns of
this paper will be gladly corrected when brought to our attention.
SUBSCRIPTION RATES
ioin5y carrer.8Oc.per month. By mail $4 00 a year 111 Titus and ad-
-OininK counties • else where $5.50 per year.
.(Obituariea, resolutions ot ,5esDect- and cards of thanks will be
cnai ged for at regular advertising rates.
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of Malenkov,
proving that
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who rules on which mortgage i and upkeep.”
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a smooth, clever man of whom to
beware, everyone said. A man who
never forgot, they said.
She crossed the cushy carpet j
and stood before his desk.
Mr. Cummings went on reading
some report. Waiting for me to
begin to fiddle, Charlotte thought,
and caught her right index finger
jerking up and down, up and down.
She began to concentrate on ms
features—the high forehead, the
arched brows, the contemptuous
curl of the lips. And she made the
discovery that he was a handsome
man; but an actor. Even simply
sitting there Mr. Cummings wo
an actor.
(To Be Continued)
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Copyright, 1933 by Bennett Ceif Dintributed by King Features Synde ate
a tew nunules, anyway.
She’d sat in the office writing
copy for the jewelry ad. On her
desk lay the small jeweled watches,
the diamond rings. For inspiration
she'd held them up, twirled the
diamonds on her own fingers,
studying their sparkle.
"Rihgs on your fingers," she'd
written. "The blaze of blue-white
diamonds.”
Ana stopped, puzzled by a
memory that had bobbed up out
of nowhere, having no connection
with anything. It was about her
A's in conduct, back in high school.
Always, every month, she had re-
ceived an A in conduct. Not, as
the teachers thought, because she
was good, but only from inertia.
Because it seemed so juvenile, so
boring to behave like the other
kids, giggling, whispering, throw-
ing paper clips, cutting coatroom
capers. She knew the kids des-
pised her for those invariable A's.
Not that she cared; she just hated
to have them think she was so
good-girl. Since she wasn’t. That
was why, one month, she aimed
for a C. All month, to her own
boredom, she giggled, wrote notes,
whispered.
When the report cards came
out, she had A again.
Why? Charlotte wondered now.
Was It because her reputation had
been unshakably established? Or
was it because, even when she was
bad, It hadn’t shown in her impas-
sive face?
Suddenly Charlotte had known
what was going on in her subcon-
scious.
She knew that in the six months
she’d been at Delafield's, she'd been
getting A's in conduct, so to speak.
She was the bright good girl who
was doing everything to get ahead.
And she believed she could carry
on the idea that had just occurred
to her.
It was four-thirty. She waited
till ten to five, then she called the
jewelry buyer. "Listen, Mr. Nath-
an." Charlotte had said. "I didn't
quite get my jewel song written.
I'd like to keep the samples till
morning. In. my locker, here in the
office. Okay?”
"Sure, Miss Morgan, that’s
okay. Just lock your locker.”
He thought nothing of it. That
was what the copywriters' locker
was for, a place to keep the mer-
chandise samples.
It was easy. She picked up the
rings and watches, made a business
ot putting them in the locker. It
took only a bit of sleight of hand
to tuck them in the tight sleeve of
her sweater instead. Two watches,
two rings.
Leaving the store, she headed
for Third Avenue. Within an hour
the money was in her purse, and
the tour pawn tickets from the
four different shops. It was the
first wrong against society Char-
lotte had ever committed. She tclt
oddly elated. Avenged. Why should
someone die tor lack ot the money
OH, I FORGOT.’—
PATTY PHONED/ k
SHE SOUNDED ALL )
EXCITED. WANTS )
you TO CALL HER/
BACK."/---I
"TN TEXAS,” BOASTED A RAW-BONED FORT WORTHY.
I "we grow watermelons so big that my wife used part of on’
as a cradle for our son." "So what?" deprecated an aged city
slicker from Chicago "in my
neighborhood they used to
say, when I was young, that
six policemen were found
asleep on one beat."
• • •
CHRISTINE JORGENSEN, the for-
mer GI who claims to have been
transformed Into a woman by
surgery in Denmark, displays
an engagement ring In Las
Vegas, Nev., during an appear-
ance there. The ring-giver is
identified as Patrick Flanagan,
a Washington portrait painter.
He’s got to get a divorce first.
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A NOW, WILL YOU <
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Abraham Lincoln participated
as a volunteer in the Black Hawk
war, which began in Illinois
against the Sauk chief of the
name.
SYNOPSIS
Charlotte Morgan • can tried to tell
her something when she returned to
her apartment late the night before
Christmas Eve. atter a long, bitter dav
of trying desperately to keep her mind
on her creative advertising work in
the hostile omces of the hated ’King.'
She still could feel the eyes of Eric
Hay burning Into the back of her neck.
She was serving a sentence couldn’t
quit. The next day, while other office
workers are holding Yule parties The
King” postpones a staff meeting from
10 80 a. m. to 2 D. m While waiting
Charlotte admits to herselt that she is
In love with Eric. At the afternoon con-
ference she notices red blisters on the
wrists of Kingsley Cummings— 'The
King " She surmises that he is allergic
to cats. Alone in her apartment Christ-
mas Eve Charlotte answers the phone
twice. The second eat) is her mother
After declining an invitation to dine
with her mother, who left her father
to run away with a writer when Char-
lotte was 12. there is a knock on the
door. It is Eric with a little Christmas
tree and a bottle of champagne After
n brief embrace Eric tells Charlotte he
thinks Cummings is tealous of him.
(AND PHONE THE GROCER A !"
(AND PAY THE PAPER BOY J
KADD SWEEP THE CELLAB)
Charlotte released her breath
slowly.
They believed it. Eric, everyone
—with the possible exception of
Dorothy and Velora. Charlotte saw
them 'later, heads together and
thrust forward like sniffing dogs
on the scent, triumphant relish on
their faces. She turned her back
and finished writing the Jewelry
ad. It turned out to be an especial-
ly good piece of copy.
But at tour o’clock Velora came
into Charlotte's office, the bird-
bright eyes darting. “Mr. Cum-
mings would like to see you In ms
office," she said, muted excitement
in her voice.
Chin uplifted, Charlotte walked
along the aisle. Now what ? She’d
never paid much attention to Mr.
Cummings. He was to be pleased,
because he was the boss, and it
was her business to succeed. He
was someone in the front office
with the thick carpet, someone who
made speeches at meetings. But
really noticed. This is getting
harder each season. It is no long-
er enough merely to stand on
your head, smoke a turkish water
pipe or playfully spray Mrs.
Astorbilt with soda water.
So you can imagne what a blue
funik I was in when word leaked
out that Maggie McNellis was j
coming to the opening in a gown
of white peau de soie embroider-
ed white pearls and gold; Lady
Makins, a gown of lace in flam-
ing scarlet, re-embroidered in
chenille and trimmed with red (
velvet! and Mrs. Carl H. Pforz-
heime, a robe de style of grape-
purple silk velvet with train,
pearls, diamonds, long white kid
NEW YORK (P) — Please don’t
ask why you didn’t see me at the
opening of the Metropolitan
Opera this year.
Yes, I missed it. And I’m so
sick about the whole business I
can hardly talk about it. I don’t
know how I’ll recover my social
position.
Anybody who isn’t seen at the
Met on opening night is definitely
an outcast in this town for the
rest of the season. Eating all the
chlorophyll in the world won’t
help.
The truth is I had made careful
plans for my appearance at the
Met opening this year, because it
was the 70th anniversary. When
the curtain first went up back in,
1883, the papers reported "the
show was divided between the
stage and the audience.”
Well, things have improved
since then. Now nobody pays any
attention to the stage. The audi-
ence is the whole show. Instead
of singing Faust the performers
could have yodeled or put on a
ministeral show and nobody
would have realized it except a
few brazen members of the hoi-
polloi in the peanut gallery.
You know, of course, the whole
object in attending a Met opening
s not only toi be seen—but to be
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on my midriff, set off by a fine
. old bare skin descended from
Adam.
Then everything began to go
wrong. First, the leopard skin
toupee wouldn’t stay on, even
with scotch tape. Next the Tif-
fany people declined to rent me
the diamond, on a trumped up
excuse that I had the wrong
size navel. Finally, the dwarf
refused to be worn as a watch
fob unless I paid him overtime
after midnight and let him pass
out handbills advertising his
carnival. Naturally, I knew the
opera wouldn’t let him publicize
a rival attraction.
So I had to call it all off, and
stayed home and sulked.
“Why don’t you just show up
wearing nothing at all?” suggest-
ed Frances. “Has that been
tried?"
Who would ever notice a nudist
at an opening of the Metropoli-
tan Opera? Nobody would look
at him twice even if he blew a
trumpet.
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NEW YORK (AP) — What price
house can you afford to buy
these days? How have high in-
come taxes and inflated prices af-
fected the old guide-posts on
home buying?
Some traditional rules of thumb
for home buyers are:
Pay no more than twice or
twice-and-a-half your annual in-
come.
A week’s pay should equal a
month’s house expenses.
The one per cent rule: A week’s
pay equals one per cent of the
house price—$50 a week for a
$5,000 house; $100 a week for a
$10,000 house and so on.
Puzzled home-shoppers wonder,
however: Do these rules apply to
gross pay or take-home pay?
The answer is flat—it’s take-
home pay that counts. That’s the
verdict of many lending officials
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CHAPTER SEVEN
THE TROUBLE was. Charlotte
could understand how her mother
felt.
"Especially," her mother went
on, "since I didn't love him; I'd
known that for a long time. So
adventure came along. A man
with great charm. He looked at
me, and I couldn't look away. He
touched me, and I caught fire. It
was too much to fight, I didn’t
want to fight, 1..." She paused,
the amber eyes empty. "Today I
can’t remember his face. You
wreck your life for a man, and
you can’t remember his face.
These things happen, you don't
plan them.”
It was a thing Charlotte had
long known. It can happen to your
mother, or your neighbor. Or to
yourself.
Now, her mother said, the doc-
tors gave her one chance in a
hundred if she had an operation,
for which she had no money.
Charlotte had sat straight and
still “And you think I have
money?” She waved her hand, in-
dicating the working-girl apart-
ment, with the shade that stuck,
the floor board that creaked, the
drawer that wouldn’t quite close.
“You think I would help you if I
could ?"
They faced each other, and at
last her mother stood up tiredly.
“I guess not," she said. “I ought
to have known. I don't know why
it matters; as often as f've wanted
to die, it's strange I should want
to live now. Or do I?" Her fea-
tures set in a sigh. She seemed a
woman weighed down by dead
dreams and resigned to defeat.
But as she moved toward the
door, she straightened her shoul-
ders and dropped a piece of paper
on the table. “My rooming-house
number," she told Charlotte. "In
case I can ever help you." The
door closed behind her.
An hour passed before Charlotte
moved.
And Sunday had led to Monday.
As far as she knew, what she
did that Monday afternoon wasn't
premeditated. Not for more than
205,72
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risks to accept or reject.
In former days, a 100-a-week
man with a wife and two children
was justified in buying a $1(1,000
or $12,500 house.
Today the same man takes
home $88.76 a week. Under the
one per cent rule he should buy
an $8,876 house.
Just for kicks, and bearing in
mind inflated home prices, let's
assume this typical man is in-
terested in buying what the Na-
tional Assn, of Home Builders
calls the nation’s “typical house,"
one costing $12,500.
Under a Federal Housing Ad-
ministration—insured mortgage
at 41 per cent for 20 years his
monthly payments would be
$67.27 a 25-year mortgage would
be $59.63 a month.
Okay so far, but an FHA loan
official says this:
“One week’s take-home pay
should match not only the carry-
ing charges but also cover local
taxes, fire insurance, health, light
—- _ %
that someone else might squander
for a few evenings’ entertainment ?
If you didn’t like life as you found
it, change it.
She went into a drugstore phone
booth to call her mother.
"I have the money for your |
operation," she’d said.
"Oh, Charlotte!" Hope livened ■
the voice. Hope that after all she I
might live, be forgiven. "You're a
good girl," she said simply.
"On the contrary," Charlotte
said. There was the compulsion
to spoil what she gave. "They were
ill-gotten gains.”
“Charlotte! What ... ?”
"Don’t worry, you’re not in-
volved. I’ll mail you a money order.
Good night."
And Monday led to Tuesday.
Charlotte herself announced that
the jewelry had disappeared. "I’m
sure I locked them in last night,"
she kept saying, "but it was open.
I’m sure ..." She put on a show
ot tumbling frantically through her
desk drawers, as though absent-
mindedly she might have thrust
them tn there. The trembling of
her hands was real.
But then Eric came up and said
that just as he was leaving last
night he’d seen her putting them
in the locker. Eric told everybody,
the store detective, the jewelry
buyer, the group that had gathered.
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EXCELLENT WORK,
MR, TOR... WE ARE
SETTLING TO EARTH
IN THE EARLY PART
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R. L. Martin, D. 0.
General Practice and Surgery
Hours 9 to 12 and 1 to 5
2M Mt. Pleasant Street, Phone 46 Pittsburg, Texas
.....Residence Dial 4-3184, Mt. Pleasant
(Ga
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Ping-pong or table tennis was
first played at the end of the
19th century. It was originated
by a sporting goods dealer in
London, England.
little me in my faded old tux,
decorated only with tulle-patched
moth holes?
Why don't you wear something
new and daringly different?” sug-
gested my wife, Francis, who un-
fortunately is unable to attend
Met openings, poor dear, because
the diamonds hurt her eyes and
she is allergic to mink.
Why not indeed? I decided to
wear a dazzling leopard skin
toupee instead of a hat, a tufted
green bath towl twined into a loin
cloth instead of a suit. And in-
stead of tawdry rubies or eme-
ralds I decided to wear the
famous Tiffany yellow diamond
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bcue
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Try and Stop Me
I--------By BENNETT CERF-----_
Soac.(UH-HUH)
152
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Mt. Pleasant Daily Times (Mount Pleasant, Tex.), Vol. 34, No. 173, Ed. 1 Tuesday, November 17, 1953, newspaper, November 17, 1953; Mount Pleasant, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth1483869/m1/2/: accessed July 18, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Mount Pleasant Public Library.