WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 18, 1946 THE DAILY TIMES-GAZETTE PAGE NINE Today's Short Story JULIE WAS NINETEEN By Lilliace Montgomery Mitchell JuLE stirred uneasily in the big l= Car, and pulled her feet closer. now, Mother, I believe I'll go Fede. rest of the way by bus." Her mother turned incredulous eyes on her, "By bus! Julie Fisher, I never heard of anything quite so ridiculous. We won't be so cramped ip we adjust ourselves." I crowd you--" whined poor Aunt Winnie helplessly. "Now, Aunt Winnie, it isn't that at all," sighed Julie. "The truth is, I must get amongst people." Joe snickered. Joe was seventeen and ornate between Jus, hd uous rage and hig arity. "Families arent people," he let out as if it were headline news yelped by a corner newsie. "Here's a tter one, darlings, 'When es fuss, go by bus!' How's that, eh? 'When families fuss, go .bus!'" He repeated it eleven es before Julie lifted her hand and brought it down sharply on her brother's knee. "Julie!" exclaimed her mother. "For a girl of nineteen, you have very singular manners. Private | Schoo! seems to have done you | scant good." |. "That's just it, Mother. The sing | Ing instructor said my voice was i true and clear and well-trained [but that what I needed was to live, to get experience." Joe snickered again, this time with rolling eyes. Aunt Winnie let | out a little sucking sound of disap- Jroval, "Live on a bus and like t," said Joe, I'll be at the family re-union at the same time you will," Julie told her mother eagerly, "It only two hundred miles, Momsie." The "Momsie" turned the trick. Julie was let out at the bus station across the street from the world's greatest department store with a en dollar bill in her little gold bag. rou won't gt much experience on ten bucks, " was Joe's part- ing reminder. ut Julie felt it "in her bones." The bus fare left her a one dollar bill, a five dollar bill and some change, Julie regarded the money curiously. "Peace for four dollars," Julie Ju mwred to herself. "Peace and perhaps--adventure." When a girl of nineteen thinks of adventure there is always a hero in that adventure, Julie was nineteen. To say that she was sorely dis- appointed when a very plump woman sank into the front seat beside her on the bus would be only truth, Julie was mad Sleat throw h. Es clan if since a whole string o ark young 'men_filed on the bus with that careless ease of men who know how to places. Julie thought that she counted eighteen of these young men but the plump woman remarked ' pleasantly as Julie craned her neck, "You don't need to move, my dear. I don't mind in the least having someone in the seat next to me. I always reserve this front seat so's I can see where the bus is going. I feel almost as if I'm driving myself." "Do you drive?" Julie asked politely. "Oh, yes, I used to drive every- where. But now that the busses @o-s0 frequently, I find it easier is way." The last young man was swing- Ing into the bus now and he paused before the plump woman, king her amiably on the shoul- der he said firmly, "I want two chicken legs for dinner, see? 1 gotta eat, understand me--I'm on fe diet! I want mushroom sauce, "Oh, you do, do you" said the plump woman cheerfully. 'Scat along to your seat and eat what I put before you! I may even Be Jou liver and bacon if I feel e it." "I want chicken!" he bellowed layfully. Behind her, Julie could ear one of the young men sing- ing in low tones. His seatmate joined .in presently and they ap- jeared to be singing a part-song. ulie turned restlessly. Ene knew the song well. There were three notes wrong, the way they were iinging it. She thought of Bee- thoven who had once risen, dressed and gone downstairs in an inn to strike the tonic note that some casual player had forgotten. Understanding the Beethoven mind for the first time, she found herself humming the melody pro- rly. "The I's got it, Snider!" said one of the Young men. "Hey, sing it again, will you?" Julie lifted her chin into the air. So! Th were supposing back there that she was humming in an effort to get acquainted with them! "Sing 'it for them, my dear," ~--Iustrated by D. Chambers "Hey, sing it again, will you?" said one of the young men. arged the plump woman. "They're not getting fresh. 'They're my boy: "Your boys! Not all eighteen of them?" asked Julie in horror. The woman laughed comfort ably. "Well, the one who stopped to talk is mine, He's the leader of the orchestra, But the others 1ave all been with us a long time ind they're all A-1 fellows. They've »ut the music with the luggage and 'hey won't have much time to re- 1earse when we get there. They'll tll give me a hand with the cook- ng--and got kinda of upset with the poor food. Too rich and not balanced so I said I'd go alon with them for a few months Fe feed them." "Maybe when they get going, they can hire a dietician," said Julie gently, "Bless your heart, Jon makes three thousand a week clear," she said in her pleasant fashion. "But money's no good if one can't get ood meals well cooked and well alanced. If I do say so, I'm a real cook. Sing the song for them, dearie." Julie half turned in her seat and with blushing cheeks sang the melody in low, clear notes. The bus driver turned curious eyes on her and began to hum. The others in the bus joined in. The woman next beat time gaily with her toe. The one called Jon came to stand beside his mother's chair. "If you had a wardrobe -- and wanted a job--I could put you on tonight," he told Julie." "Just be- fore we started I had a telegram from our soloist and she's in some hospital with tonsilitis. Bad luck for her but she can't sing for opens. Well, do you want the ob?" "I have an amethyst strapless chiffon," Julle told him. "Will that do?" on turned questioning eyes to his mother. «Ihe silver drop be- hind her, Mom?" His mother nodded. "You didn't mention the salary to her, Son." "We'll say a hundred a week to start. Jon Gardner's Fr Or- chestra is the name--in case you don't know." "You--why, you're on the radio, too," said Julie. "Oh, yes, but we'll add your share of the radio proceeds, =~ We have a profit-sharing stunt jomongst ourselves on that", said Jon ardner casually,. "I 'think you! Af lke us he added. n e, looking up at him, dropped her e ARE h want to acknowledge so soon just how much she liked him--now! And even at this moment she could imagine Joe's shining eyes and his, "Aw-gee Sis!" when he learned that she was to be the soloist with Jon Gardner's Swing Orchestra. In a fashion Jon re- minded her of Joe, When a girl neteen go falling in love, = orernal, she is Julie was nineteen. English Vicar Sees Mission for Disney By the REV. BRIAN HESSION Vicar of Holy Trinity, Aylesbury, Buckinghamshi-e Hollywood is a world all to {tself. . Just as the colourful clothes in the continual sunshine create a tremendous sense of contrast, so the thinking capacity of the people 'living there is con . In Hollywood live three strata of people. The stars, who, after all, are only the employed, and who everybody. tries to pretend do not count for much; The film executives, directors, and producers, living in fantastic houses with lovely swimming-pools. The residents--healthy, wealthy and, in their way, wiser than many of us in the film world. Now Hollywood producers are by no means Fpensinle to the power- ful of religion. appesd they have reached sat- uration point in the type of film that merely has recourse to the clerical collar as the epitome of religion. And I agree that to continue on these lines would simply act as a wet the moment has come in his- tory when the world desperately needs to be told In simple language just what Christianity is, in order that it may drink once again at fountain-head bf peace and man rhood. I discussed this with many fam- ucers' and directors--Cecil . de Mille, John Stahl, Irving Pich- el, and many others. All agreed that now is the time for such a film: that it. would do a great deal of good and at the same time would be what is called "box- office," ie, the world would flock to see it. There are men of great vision Bland of the highest possible inte- griy who know exactly where they are going. The man who towers head and shoulders above the rest of them In creative genius is Walt Disney. If ever a man was a wizard, that man is Walt Disney--son of a par- son, named after a parson, with many relatives in the Church. He is alive to the world's child delinquency and to the spiritual strivings of man. Rhythm and colour are, after all, gifts of God, and we shall soon be seeing Disney put these to good ef- fect. CREATIVE TOUCH London, Dec. 16--(CP)--Two roses, a bunch of grapes and a length of blue velvet were transformed into an up-to-the-minute model hat be- Jore art students in a downtown hotel. FAMILY LINIMENT She didn't | 5,000 Men of Alamein Meet Again Four Years Later in London Five thousand men marched into London's Alpert Hall--5,000 of the half-million men of the British Em= pire who, on a night exactly four years before, had stood on the de- sert sands awaiting the word "Go." The word came as 800 guns opened up. It was the battle of El Ala- mein, The reunion at the Albert Hall was attended by Lord Montgomery, leader of the El Alamein Desert Rats, and Mr. Churchill, the na- tion's leader during the war, And this is how it all looked -- four years later--to a former mem- ber of the Daily Mall staff who was wounded at El Alamein: When you looked into the great enclosing jaws of the Albert Hall and saw what lay within them you saw civilians; by civillans I mean men who, on this day, do not wear khaki. They wore it for seven years, and now they are rid of it. Friends, I never saw happier men, And for that reason alone, I 'write this plain tale. It was true abcut the divisional signs that hung about the hall: true that once you looked like the man still in uniform who stood by your side, a brown oasis in a drab desert of blue; true that when Field Marshal Montgomery said: "All sit down," you sat down. It was true that when Mr. Win- ston Churchill spoke of you as "Comrade," you felt your spirit move, and when that great-heart- ed old man sald: "God bless you, you, the Eighth Army"--and could say no more, tears came unbidden to your eyes. True, all of it true. But you got the right angle on the Battle of El Alamein, the battle (they say) which was the turning point of the war, when you looked on the men at your right. In the case of your correspondent it was his batman. He sald: "gir, all this pollification is very fine, and I think it is a good thing for the chaps. But I only remem- ber this about it all--the road; that single black, tarmac road. It seem- ed to lead nowhere." I think, with respect, my batman was wrong. It led, as I think, to an uprising of the spirit; it led, if you like, to my driver saying as he died, "I am very young, sir, and I do not want to die. But I believe in my own people." That young man, whom I buried, was present in the Albert Hall, He was present and with the men blinded in the Battle of El Alamein, who sat smiling gently in the box near me. Thankful ! You may stand on that road and look south and there you will see the dead now placed in long, or- derly rows on the slopes of Alamein, In the face of all this, what could one say? Only this. When you met a man who had been at the battle with you: "How are you?" And he could only say to you: "I'm all right; how are you?" . Thereupon you turned away, and as the 5,000 men who were at that gathering did, you quietly went home, a little solemn, a little thank- ful, and a little more determined to believe that once you belonged to a great Army, and now you belong- ed to a greater one. wear hooked him the baitle really begins. "You reel him in, then, when he L up on the line himself out, pp in again." 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