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Graeve, Oscar (ed.) / Delineator
Vol. 119, No. 1 (July, 1931)

[Continued articles and works],   pp. 46-71 PDF (15.7 MB)

Page 54

v J
-/          4.
No doubt you have met her at tea
or dinner ... marveled at her charm,
her true serenity. You may have won-
dered wherein lay the secret to
such tranquil poise... and never
thought to connect it in any way with
financial security. * Not every wo-
man is born to financial security-the
great majority are not. But the modern
woman seeks to build it for herself or
to help her husband attain it for the
family. She knows that the future can-
not be cloudless without it. e One
of the surest ways to attain Financial
security is to recognize that the fun-
damental aim of investment is well-
secured income and that sound bonds
are ideal for that purpose. Women,
being naturally conservative, are
quick to recognize this truth. * One-
ifth of the customers of Halsey, Stuart
& Co. are women-some of them mak-
ing their own way in the business or
professional world ...others capable
managers of the family finances ...still
others competently investing their
estates. Each receives a service
adapted to her particular needs...
the problems of each are studied in
accordance with the policy of "bonds
to fit the investor."* We shall be
pleased to send you a copy of our
booklet, Problems of the Woman Pn-
vestor It discusses in clear, straight-
forward language the investment
problems of women variously situ-
ated. Ask for booklet DL-71.
N   E/ yK, 35      ALL   STEET
T-AN ENTERTAIN. EveryWednesday
e - -g you may increase your knowledge of
-,.s'd investment by listening to the Old
Counsellor on the Halsey, Stuart & Co. pro-
gram. Broadcast over a nation-wide N. B. C.
networL. Music by symphony orchestra
8 P M. Eastern Time 7 P M. Central T-me
6 P. M. Mountain Tume  S P.M. Paclic Tme.
DOyight saving r'me- one bour later.
Continued from page 52
to police the top of the mound, on the outlook
for approaching vehicles, dashing importantly
back and forth between the converging roads
to warn his master if danger threatened.
NOW, as Binks trundled his coaster up the
short, steep hill of the side road, Pat
O'Reilly, proudly took his post.
Binks poised, waiting for the word. Pat
O'Reilly dashed across the bank, barking
raucously, "Coast's clear. Come ahead."
Then he trotted back to await future develop-
ments. A car had just come into view well
up the main highway. Pat O'Reilly cocked a
judicious head, and seemed to measure the
distance. The car was a long way off. "Step
on it, old timer," he signaled. "You'll make
it all right." He quivered with the thrill of
the race. But that car was gathering speed.
Pat O'Reilly stared, hesitated, then galloped
across the mound. Sharply he barked, -Wait!
Car! He's too fast for you' Put on the brakes!
Run into the bank Do anything-only stop!"
Perhaps Binks could not hear for the rush
of wind in his ears; perhaps his mind was still
busy with conjectures about a Heaven where
there were no Pat O'Reillys.
"Stop!" shrieked Pat O'Reilly. "Can't
you hear? Stop!"
Down the hill, head erect, hair streaming,
came a flying little figure. Down the main
highway came a blue coup6, gaining speed
with every turn of the wheel. Pat O'Reilly's
voice grew strained and hoarse with terror.
When Binks was some forty yards from the
fork, Pat O'Reilly went suddenly into
reverse. He dashed along the bank paralleling
the course of the oncoming car, frantically
hurling entreaties, threats, invective.
Perhaps if the driver of the coup6 had not
been filled with wonder at the vindictiveness
of the small brown dog who hurled himself
savagely against the mud-guards of his car
just an instant before it reached the inter-
section, he might have seen the little red
coaster that whirled in from the side road,
directly across his path.
Lilian Anne shrieked once, then flung her-
self sobbing, face downward on the bank.
Other cars appeared, apparently from no-
where. People got out and bent over some-
thing in the road; then straightened and
talked in hushed tones. Some one picked up
a limp little body, placed it in a sedan, and
drove off down the highway. Someone else
set the little red coaster gently to one side
of the road. No one saw a small brown dog,
lying in the ditch behind some shrubbery.
THE monster that had been tormenting
Binks seemed to have gone away. Every-
thing was very still and peaceful now. With-
out opening his eyes, Binks knew that he was
lying on a soft couch. Sometime in the vague
past, he dimly remembered, something had
happened to him, abrupt and horrible.
But now, instead of a twisted mass of pain,
heavy and sore and sickeningly weak, his
body felt light and buoyant, like-why, a
bird must feel this way! Tentatively Binks
extended his arms, raised them, and lowered
them. He was not at all surprised to feel that
his body lifted ever so slightly, and floated
above the couch, free as air, light as a feather,
but much more alive and buoyant. Funny!
He was floating on the air just as his father
had taught him to float on the water at the
beach last summer!
He couldn't remember just when he had
opened his eyes; but now he realized that he
was in the big, cool library on the first floor
of his father's house. At the desk over by the
French doors that opened upon the sloping
lawn, a woman was sitting. She wore a stiff
little white cap, and her back showed broad
and white. A delightful plan occurred to
Hinks. He would float up to the very top of
the tall mahogany book shelves, and call
out to her from there.
"She will be s'prised," Binks thought as he
glided upward, "'cause she proberly thinks
I'm still in bed."
He glanced with tolerant superiority
toward the couch he had so cleverly escaped;
then he was surprised-so much so that he
turned a somersault in the air and sat down
abruptly on the wide marble mantelpiece.
"Why, who's that in my bed?" he shouted.
The white-capped nurse must be deaf, for
she did not even glance in his direction. In-
stead, she rose hastily, and crossing to the
couch, bent over the figure that lay there.
Binks, too, bent over to peer at the figure.
Then he almost fell off the mantelpiece. It
couldn't be! How could he be lying down
there, so straight and still and white, when
quite obviously, he was sitting up here?
But he was.
The nurse uttered an exclamation, and
crossing quickly to the bell button by the
hall door, touched it several times. It was
Jenny who opened the door. Jenny's eyes
were red and swollen.
"Get the doctor quickly," directed the
Almost immediately Dr. Ernshaw came
in, Mrs. Bassett hurrying behind. Mrs. Bas-
sett's eyes, too, were red.
The doctor bent over the figure on the bed;
then he shook his head at the nurse.
"This is what I was afraid of," he said.
He turned to Mrs. Bassett. "You've wired
his father?"
"Doctor," Mrs. Bassett sounded choked
and queer, "he's not-he's not-gone?" The
figure on the bed was so very, very still. "It's
all my fault," she burst out. "I knew he
wasn't allowed to coast in the highway, but
he was so-so little, the poor motherless
lamb. I- I-"
All of a sudden it came back to Binks:
Pat O'Reilly, barking furiously on the bank
above him, a huge blue shape rushing down
upon him, pain, hideous, twisting pain ...
"I should have watched him more care-
fully. It's all my fault!" Mrs. Bassett was
crying with funny, whooping little noises.
Binks forgot all those detested afternoon
naps, forgot all those loathsome quarts of
certified milk that he had gulped down under
the compulsion of Mrs. Bassett's stern eye;
he remembered only the times Mrs. Bassett
had gathered him up in her comfortable arms
and held him there very gently, when his
bad leg hurt him or he
was lonesome during one
of his father's absences.
"It's all right,Irs. Has-
sett," he called. "I'm not
goneatall,I'mrighthere."     3   7
But they all continued
to present unresponsive          t0 S
backs to him, the nurse
and Dr. Ernshaw busy,
murmuring together, over Chi
the still figure on the bed,  C        c
Mrs. Bassett weeping
noisily on the shoulder of
Jenny, who had stolen in
again. A great wave of
loneliness  swept  over      family likes
Binks. It was as if there
were a solid wall between    wouldn't you
him and them. He might       new  ways
as well not be here at all.
"You   must   control      Send for our
yourself, Mrs. Bassett,"
the doctor said sternly
over his shoulder. "We
have not entirely given up      No. 59
hope, and we are doing
everything we can. I sug-
gest you go upstairs and      DELINEATO
rest until we call you."         1
"Come on, dearie," said
Jenny.                            Now Y
Mrs. Bassett allowed
Jenny to lead her from the
room, but she continued        Coupon o
to sob bitterly, "It's all
my fault."
Binks' heart ached for
her. Of course it wasn't
really her fault. And Pat O'Reilly would
proberly be thinking it was his fault, too.
Why-why, where was Pat O'Reilly?
Binks had never so much as had a tooth-
ache before that Pat O'Reilly had not
managed to poke his whiskered nose into the
room, either taking the door by storm be-
tween the very feet of an outraged nurse, or
managing an entrance by cunning.
WHY, something terrible must have hap-
pened to Pat O'Reilly, too, or he would
surely be here. Pat O'Reilly must be-
Binks forgot all about Mrs. Bassett. He
must find Pat O'Reilly. He shot down from
the mantel and hurtled, headlong, through
the open French doors.
Just outside the door a blast of fierce hot
wind caught him up, snatching the breath
from his lips, and making him feel sick and
giddy and helpless. He couldn't hear any-
thing but the rushing of the wind. He only
knew that he was being carried irresistibly out
and up and up through measureless sweeps
of dim, formless space. Then, quite as sud-
denly as it had come, the wind went away,
and everything cleared up about him. He
found himself standing alone on the top of a
rosy cloud, outside lofty, pearly-white gates,
through which he could see vast expanses of
gold and azure.
Of course Binks knew at once where he was,
and he began to look about for Pat O'Reilly.
The gates had been opened by a white-
robed old gentleman with a long snowy
beard and a very kind, if rather harassed
expression. He had a great open book bal-
anced on one arm, and a pen with beautiful
long white feathers for a handle in the other
hand. He looked so much like his pictures in
the book at home that Binks beamed.
"I s'pose you're Saint Peter, aren't you?"
he said politely. "I'm Binkshop Vaille Ten-
nant, Third. And has-has Pat O'Reilly got
here yet?"
SAINT Peter looked startled, and Binks'
heart fell.
"Pat O'Reilly is my dog," he explained
eagerly. "It's funny. I-I thought he'd be
waiting for me at the gate."
Saint Peter looked still more startled.
"I'm very sorry," he said, "but there
aren't any dogs around here."
For a moment Binks stared speechlessly.
Could Lilian Anne be right about God-
and dogs? He had to swallow twice before he
managed to smile and say, with a carelessness
assumed to bolster up his own confidence,
"Oh, well, I guess proberly he'll be along
pretty soon. He--he follers me everywhere."
"Hm!" said Saint Peter; and again Binks'
heart dropped.
Saint Peter was looking
about him a little impa-
"Now what," he mur-
a   y  S        imured, "can have become
of that guardian angel of
e r ve            yours?  I declare she's
getting more irresponsible
every day! Well, what
k   e   n ~      would you like to do to
amuse yourself until she
gets back?"
Binks brightened. "Oh,
The whole        I'd like to stay and talk to
you till Pat O'Reilly gets
chicken -       here."
"Well," hesitated Saint
like to know     Peter, "I'm really very
o serve it?       busy just now."     He
tapped his nose with the
new booklet      plumy    pen,  frowning
thoughtfully. "Now, I'll
tell you-" he indicated a
park across the street
25c.         where a group of rosy-
limbed boy and girl angels
about Binks' age were
INSTITUTE      flying in and out of a
fleecy cloud bank and
shouting with laughter-
Ar City          "how would you like to go
and play with those chil-
dren over there?  They
page 88        seem to be having a gor-
geous time. I'll call one
of them."
"Oh,   please,"  said
Binks quickly. Somehow
he didn't feel like flying any more just now,
not till Pat O'Reilly came, anyhow. "I
b'lieve, if you don't mind, I'd like just to
walk around alone for a little."
"Oh, all right," said Saint Peter absently-
already he was busy with his book and pen-
"but stay in the shade like a good boy, won't
So Binks wandered a little disconsolately
up and down wide golden streets. As he
walked, he looked everywhere for Pat
O'Reilly. It had occurred to him that of
course Heaven must have back entrances
and open windows. Smart old Pat O'Reilly
had proberly decided that it would be safer
to try one of these.
There were a great many people about, all
in white, with little gold crowns and fluffy
white wings. They were all (Turn to page 56)

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