MUTT AND JEFF
WELL, HOW DO YOU LIKE
IT? THIS IS MY PRIVATE
OFFICE! I'M GOIN' INTO
BUSINESS!
WHAT KIND
OF BUSINESS,
MUTT!
OH, I DUNNO YET, BUT I'LL THINK OF SOMETHING AND YOU'RE GONNA BE MY OFFICE BOY!
OFFICE BOY? HOW MUCH DO
I GET A
WEEK?
17-25
Page
THE CHINA MAIL, AUGUST 29, 1938.
By BUD FISHER
·OH, SIX.
BUCKS AWEEK!
WHAT? MORE THAN SIX DOLLARS
A WEEK BUT I'LL
LISTEN, I CANT PAY YOU ANY
(WHATE
JULY MON
25
•ME WORK FOR TELL YOU WHAT;
SIX BUCKS
A WEEK?
[DO YOU THINK
I'M CRAZY?
I'LL DO ~
I'LL PROMOTE YOU FROM OFFICE BOY TO VICE PRESIDENT!
HOW'S THAT?
VICE PRESIDENT?
SUN
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THE DAILY SHORT STORY
Paint The Church
PREACHER
were
ANDREWS walked How would he meet the obligation he slowly down the tree-shaded lane had entailed? If the painters that led from the church to the street, willing to wait until the entire job was. His hands were clasped behind him. finished, Preacher Andrews was sure His shoulders were stooped, as though the result would awaken the necessary. they bore the weight of a tremendous spark in the hearts of his church mem- burden.
bars. But the builders "would want Reaching the streets he turned and money on Saturday. A lot of it. He looked back at the church. It was not. had promised to give it to them. large. Its architecture was of a day Saturday! Between now and then- long since past. Yet it bore a dignity, Preacher Andrews moaned softly to an antiquity that provoked an air of himself and opened his Bible. unique picturesqueness reposing there A steeplejack was sliding down the beneath the old maples and elms and spire by means of ropes. He reached horsechestnut trees.
the roof below, descended ladders Preacher Andrews sighed deeply. the ground, and came down the tree- The church, this House of Worship, this shaded lane toward the parish house. building that had stood and flourished He was carrying a large copper ball. for generations, was falling into decay. Preacher Andrews recognised it as the The spire no longer gleamed white in decoration leading up to the weather the morning sun. Paint had peeled vane or the spire.
•
to
from its clapboard walls, leaving ugly "Found this and thought you'd like blotches. Shutters had lost their lus- to see it," the jack explained. tre-more than one hung from a broken The copper ball lay open on Preacher hinge. The grass and weeds were tall Andrew's desk. Inside were envelopes, and unattended in the once spacious newspaper clippings, a compact bundle. Preacher Andrews scanned the clip- Preacher Andrews sighed again. He pings. They told of the spire being thought: "It needs painting. It needs blown over almost a hundred years repairing and fixing up. It is becom- ago, and the response of parishioners ing an eyesore, a disgrace to the com- in providing funds to make repairs. munity."
The thought sobered him There was another clipping which men-
common.
By Karl Grayson
even more. Hopelessness dwelt in his tioned the great number of worthless eyes. He had tried so very hard to banknotes then in circulation. organise a campaign to raise the neces- Preacher. Andrews opened the com- sary funds.
He had appealed to the pact bundle. Inside was a thick stack community spirit of his parish, but of banknotes, with a humorous note on without success. People weren't in- top, written by the minister of that - terested in churches these days. Sun- time. "These banknotes were contri- day was no longer a day for rest and buted by our parishioners for repair- worship. It was a day for rushing ing the steeple. All
worthless, around the countryside in automobiles, providing that even our good church. for attending ball games and picture members are victims of the bogus cur- shows, a day on which hectic activities rency now in circulation. Our funds were crowded intö limited hours.
were gladly contributed....
are
}?
Standing there with the church be It was Saturday noon when Preacher fore him, Preacher Andrews thought Andrews got back from Washington. of years. past when this church was Held tightly in his hand was a package. the centre of the community's activity, The package contained currency which when raising funds for its maintenance the Treasury Department had substi- was a matter of little effort, when tuted for the alleged bogus currency, people responded to a call because of every note of which had been redeemed pride and a sense of duty and gratui- by the government three months after tousness.
the death of the minister who had
"If it could be painted," he thought, stored them in the copper ball. "If." repairs could be made, it would Preacher Andrews walked up the become a landmark that would attract tree-shaded lane. His step was brisk.. attention. People would again take There was a smile on his face. Fear pride, would again realise how neces- no longer dwelt in Iris heart. sary a church is to a community, would (Copyright, 1938, By The Associated attend services, would see how much Newspapers.) they needed faith, something to cling to, an anchor."
Preacher Andrews suddenly stopped his train of thought. Faith. That's what people needed, and by jove, that's what he himself was lacking. He, a minister of the gospel, lacking faith. The thought startled him. : Paint the church; that was the thing to do. Order the thing done and trust in his faith in people and in God that the obligation... would be aafisfied... Awäay would show Itsalf. “Away must show itself.
His heart thumping, Preacher: An-. drews started briskly across the street toward his home, and a telephone.....
The steeplejacks arrived on Monday, They worked - from “the bottom up, soraping-and-olesning, ; Presently they would begin galgang from the top down.. Once more, the spire would glodm whitely brainst the morning sun. From his study widow Preacher Andrews watched, developments, an-
e12172 Ha heart,
If hid What
fondi
they showed, complete
REACH THOSE WHO
CAN AFFORD TO BUY
THROUGH
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THE PAPER THAT GETS
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ith the Latest"