Radio Digest (Oct 1926-Jan 1928)

RADIO DIGES T— Illustrated <70RCH of Q/OUTH ABE FINDS His Little Girl of the Woods a Grown-up Lady — Shirley Adventures Once too Far and Nicky Sanders Decides His Own Fate Previously Published SAUCE for the goose is sauce for the gander, according to the modern code of the Lady Pinks at Ivanhoe University. And when Shirley Buckhaven was nabbed in a road house raid by prohibition agents it seemed as though she would be expelled from the school while her companion, Nicky Sanders, would escape. This brings out a vociferous interview on the part of "Wanda Nevens of Minnesota, leader of the Pinks. Wanda declares that old time ethics as applied to a moral code for women are out of date, and youth today carries the torch for the civilization of tomorrow. She bases her creed on the new school of philosophy engendered by the study of behaviorism. Babe Garden, football hero, also from Minnesota and childhood friend of "Wanda, becomes involved in debt with Nate "Weiss, a bootlegger. "With his friend, Karl Boescher, a ruthless student of science, and believer in self-made codes for all individuals, he takes part in the robbery of a load of alcohol from the university to square accounts. Weiss rewards the two students with passes to the opening of the new Eden Garden, a pleasure palace in the woods near the sand dunes at the foot of Lake Michigan. Eden encompasses a small lake and a tropical garden. Babe and Karl take Wanda and her roommate, Stella Gwynne, to the party. They meet Shirley at a trail down to the lake from the dancing terrace, when Shirley leaps from the cliff into Garden's arms and kisses him before he knows who it is. CHAPTER VI. Wanda Wonders WITH the flurry and sudden leap of Shirley Buckhaven into Babe Garden's arms no one had particularly noticed the lagging presence of her escort, Nicky Sanders. Nicky was now manifest. Stepping forward, a little flushed and somewhat unsteady, he took Shirley by the arm and pulled her to one side. Apparently he was trying to let her knew that he was her real guardian pro tern. His attitude started Wanda wondering at her own reactions. Was he jealous and should she be jealous? Had Shirley's impromptu kiss on Babe's lips aroused any resentment? No, she felt that it had been unpremeditated and certainly at no suggestion from Babe. But — and she went back to the behavioristic term, stimuli — what might ensue with the planting of a pretty girl's lips on the lips of a robust man at the mating age? A passionate kiss as a stimulus might lead to what? But what is the use of crossing bridges before you get to them? They had been plodding through the soft white sand and had now come to the first of the little grass huts. It resembled one of those crude native habitations one sees in books of travel. "With Stanley in Darkest Africa!" Babe exclaimed as they circled around to the front which faced toward the lake. A small but well proportioned Oriental waiting maid stepped from the cubby hole entrance and stood straight and expressionless for whatever mistress the Fates might send to her. Her coarse black hair and coppery skin was suggestive of the general primitiveness that had been effected. It was as though she had been lifted suddenly from her jungle home and stationed there, a sculptured object d'art in the general scheme. Over the door in a shield of flowers was worked out the name "Isis" in dried pink stems. The same name was woven into a rush mat at the entrance. "Made to order for the Little Corporal of the Pinks," laughed Stella. "What an odd structure," Wanda observed, "thatched with straw and walls of matted grass. It's larger than I imagined. It makes me think of an old fashioned bee hive." 66/^\UITE right," answered Babe, "all I J it lacks are the bees and the ^f honey. In a moment it will have its honey, I believe. Are you going in?" The Oriental stepped to one side and bowed Wanda through the draped opening. "Now watch out for the bees, that you don't get stung," said Karl, as the rest scattered about to the other huts in the immediate vicinity. By Qriswold q/^aer Stella's hut, under the patronage of Cleopatra was almost touching that of Wanda's. Babe and Karl took a double hut a little to one side and in front, but an incident attracted Karl's eye and he hesitated before joining Babe. Nicky had taken Shirley down the beach some little distance. Then, after he had seen her pass through the opening, he had stumbled forward a few steps whirled around and followed her. about me. Now, please let's don't fuss because they will all be out there in a minute and we won't be ready." "But I don't care if they are. I'm gonna stay right here, right here — see if I don't an' fasten the hooks or whatchamacallums up for you — yes, sweetheart, you see if I don't." "You're just a plain fool, Nicky. Because you know I'm not going to humor you with any unseemly exhibitions and ONE of the niftiest and prettiest little maidens to flit in and out of the WMBF studio at the Fleetwood Hotel, Miami, has been Miss Ernestine Griffith, pictured above. Of course she is a screen beauty and, mayhap, if you have not already recognized her, you will see her as the star in the Fox film, "The Joy Girl." She is five feet two, eyes of blue, scintilates on the bathing beach and goes by the name of "Pee Wee" among her intimates. "Oh! Oh!" Karl gave a little exclamation. Babe, thinking he had been attracted by some fair swimmer in scant costume paid no attention but proceeded to get into his own trunks, which were elastic and came up to his breast. Karl sauntered along carelessly until within earshot of Shirley's hut. He noted that the argument had begun without preliminaries. Shirley's voice was almost hysterical as she protested and ordered Nicky to get out. "This is the last time. Now, you go. What's your idea? Are you drunk or crazy?" Shirley was trying to keep her voice down. "I might ask the same of you, acting like a fool over Garden — making a monkey out of me," came Nicky's voice thickly. "Don't worry, he doesn't care a rap that's that. Go on and find your own igloo. I'll swim you a race across the lagoon." "All right, maybe I will. But one little kiss 'fore I go." "Just one. Then hurry so we'll get out there when the others do." Karl was turning toward his own hut when he heard a resounding slap. "You are a disgusting fjol!" Shirley was mad. "Are you trying? \o murder me? Go right this minute or * m going to call for help." The sound oj. another slap and Nicky came reeling out of the opening his hand to his cheek. WHILE Shirley had been trying to show Nicky the door Wanda had been trying to decide whether she could bring herself to wear one of the dozen fancy beach costumes she had found in a small cedar chest opened for her by the maid. Each article was an exquisitely patterned bit of needlecraft, but much too thin and abbreviated to suit her notions of reasonable modesty. The hut was dimly lighted by little lamps in white lined cocoanut shells. A full length mirror was framed in one side of the hut with shaded cat tail lights shining down from the top through a fringe of rushes. Before the mirror was a low reed chair. At one side was a small rustic table on which stood an earthen wine jar with ancient Egyptial decorations showing slaves bearing grapes to a wine press. A small gourd, with onehalf for a standard and the other half for a receptacle was in readiness to serve as a wine glass. Wanda spread the dainty costumes over the long narrow settee and regarded each one ruefully. In the midst of her contemplation Stella crept into the room with one of the garments from her wardrobe. "Would you dare go forth in one of those wisps?" asked Wanda. "If the under tunic could only be stretched up a little higher. When that silk is wet we might as well be wearing lace curtains." "I simply can't. I'm for freedom, and do-as-you-please-so-long-as-you don't invade-the-rights-of-others and all that, but, ooooooo, I can't bring myself to be seen in one of those things." Wanda tossed a simple pink dainty witi. "Isis" worked into a shoulder sash back on the settee and faced her companion. "But, then the boys will laugh at us for not having the nerve to practice what v 3 preach. I'll bet Shirley won't hesitate from any inhibitions of modesty," argued Stella as she lifted a bright green creation of silk and wool toward the dim cocoanut shaded lights. "After all, why should we be afraid, if we come right down to it and try to figure out a real legitimate reason? How do we get these rules?" "That isn't what bothers me so much as the horror I would feel at others seeing us and laughing at us — people who wouldn't understand our point of view." "But that is no real reason, dear. In the first place, we don't know any of them, and even if we did they would be just the same as we are. I fancy the other men here will have their own feminine companions in whom they will be especially interested. I know Karl will be terribly disappointed — and I don't think he is just morbidly curious either." "I feel just the other way about Babe. I'm afraid he might think I am too free. T~<j doesn't quite get this modern thought of the torch bearing youth. He still has Victorian ideas, although he really wants to be modern. It might turn him against me." D 66"|~^ON'T worry about that. If he sees you in one of those garments he will be completely devastated. He doesn't know you yet as well as I do, and, oh, my dear, don't be afraid. As I see it, we are right up to the firing line for the Pinks. Does the torch stop here, or do we march on?" "But our creed only goes so far as to say that we shall do the things that we really want to do," Wanda replied, "and since this is patently something we do not want to do, we are not violating any of our precepts " "It's not that I want to do it, you know that, Wanda, dearest, but it is our reasons for not wanting to do it. Why don't we want to go' out there in these almost transparent costumes? Is it not the same old self-conscious artificial code of thinking? Our ancestors through many generations have built clothes around us until we are fairly obsessed with clothes. First it was clothes to protect against the weather, against briars and craggy rocks, then clothes as savage adornment and finally, in our day and age, clothes as a matter of sex consciousness. Look at the primitive woman in her natural surroundings, even this woman who stands outside the door. She is unconscious of her body and yet she has no covering above her waist. Are the men horrified? Do they stagger away in shame? They pay no more attention to her than they would if she were garbed in some fastastic costume." "Would you be willing to go out of here as she is clad?" "Frankly, I would not. Our environment of living makes it impossible. We are too far away from the original and (Continued on page 21)