anaheim-gazette 1934-07-12

THIRD INSTALLMENT SYNOPSIS—Three weeks after a cream colored roadster had been found wrecked in the sea at the foot of a cliff, a girl calling herself Anne Cushing appears at the desert town Marsston. She has bought, sight unseen, a ranch located thirty miles away. Barry Duane, her nearest neighbor and his man, Boone Petry procure a reliable woman for her and in Barry's car, loaded down with supplies, they start across the desert. In Marston her reticence has aroused suspicion. The glimpse was only a glimpse, passing as quickly as it had come. The car gave a jolt of protest and slanted off obliquely from the road they had been following. She had wanted privacy and here it was. "Now," said her host cheerfully, "we are aiming straight — more or less straight. — for your ranch. The real road is back of us. This is just your short cut to it. See that little jag in the hills? Your ranch is right below that, in a valley." She looked at it with sharpened interest. A valley sounded nice; sort of snug and tucked away. The agent had told her that a stream ran through the ranch. She hoped that was true, but she did not ask Barry Duane. The hills were coming closer and a slow rise of land began to be spotted thinly with dwarf evergreens. Higher slopes towered ahead, great, wrinkled, "Before I've seen my own ranch? Never! I just want to get out some sensible shoes. I'll join you in just a minute." He went, but with a backward look. Interested and not a little puzzled. He knew that the girls of his own generation did practically what they pleased, but they didn't usually please to bury their talents in humdrum and unspectacular farm work. Perhaps it was just a whim, or a let-down after a love affair, or—Oh, damn it, what business was it of his, anyway? He went to find Martha Larrabee. Left to herself, Anne grimaced frankly at the slightly dingy look of her new quarters, and blessed Martha's stern creed of soap and water. She slipped into a pair of smart sport, shoes, and hurried out. "Mrs. Larrabee, I can't ask two perfect strangers to do oil my work for me. It's awfully nice of them to be willing, but it's really too much." "My name's Martha," said that capable woman composedly, "and don't you worry about the work. It won't hurt 'em. Besides, they'd want to anyway. It's only neighborly. Now you run along and tell Barry to show you around, but before he goes he might as well help Boone out with that table. I thought we might have supper early, and eat it outdoors." A step sounded on the porch. Anne knew already whose it was. Martha's solid step so far of her. "You better get to bed mighty near done out to run." Just lazy. You've done I like my ranch, Martha. a hopeless greenhorn, but "So do I," said Martha "I've always liked it." "Oh, do you?" A certain had gone out of her voice perhaps—well, it's general be rather run down, isn't it "Nothing that plain, or work and a little backbone up again," said Martina "There's a home and a reason on it, and in good years there be a little over to tuck in." She looked shrewdly do small dark head, at shattered hands clasped over knee. Martha had a head but whatever she may be curiousity or doubt she kept She added a brief after the ousily. "And if you ever got tired I guess you wouldn't have turnin' your money over could easily turn it into a and I guess there's rich would like it just for the fishin' back in the hills. my way to bed. We've got early tomorrow morning." "All right, Martha. I'll minute. Be sure to call me..." short cut to it. See that little jag in the hills? Your ranch is right below that, in a valley." She looked at it with sharpened interest. A valley sounded nice; sort of snug and tucked away. The agent had told her that a stream ran through the ranch. She hoped that was true, but she did not ask Barry Duane. The hills were coming closer and a slow rise of land began to be spotted thinly with dwarf evergreens. Higher slopes towered ahead, great, wrinkled, rocky folds, almost black in shadow. Further south, where the car was heading were long, thinly wooded ridges. Lying lonely but protected, there was a little valley. Anne had a glimpse of willows and cottonwoods, hugging what must be a little creek. There was water! They swept in with a triumphant burst of speed, past a strip of fence with tired looking posts and discouraged wire, past a ragged field or two, catching sight of a lovely meadow. "Here we are," said Barry Duane, "at Cushing's Ranch. You mustn't judge it by first appearance, because a handy man with a hammer and a few nails can work miracles." His voice sounded nervous. They were all looking at her, a little anxiously. She began to laugh. Softly at first, but with a swelling note. This was her ranch, hers, bought insanely over the counter in a dusty little office in a small town. "The dear little funny old thing! I don't mind if it's run down. It's mine! And I'm going to have orange curtains at the windows. Flaming orange! Let's explore!" She was out before anyone could help her, running up a careless path to a frankly sagging porch, and turned at the door. "I forgot the most important part Welcome to Trail's End! Mrs. Larrabee, if I help, do you think I'd dare invite the gentlemen to our first meal?" They stayed. It would have taken force to have dragged at least one of them away from that glowing picture on the low, lazy old porch, with the weathered logs making a silvered background for her vivid youth and the lovely flame in her cheeks. "Don't see why they shouldn't." she agreed calmly. "There's plenty to eat, and we can easy keep two men busy until supper time. Boone, you take these things out, and I'll show you where they go. And then you might clean out the stove—it'll need it—and lay a fire for me. Barry suppose you show Miss Cushing around and tell her "My name's Martha," said that capable woman composedly, "and don't you worry about the work. It won't hurt 'em. Besides, they'd want to anyway. It's only neighborly. Now you run along and tell Barry to show you around, but before he goes he might as well help Boone out with that table. I thought we might have supper early, and eat it outdoors." A step sounded on the porch. Anne knew already whose it was. "I've brought you some water. Martha. The well seems in good shape, but I'll take a better look at it tomorrow. It's placed right for drainage too." He sighted Anne. White, even teeth flashed. "All ready for action? Come along, and I'll show you the estate." She trudged off gaily with him, to look at her kingdom. Martha looked after them, with elevated brow and that little quirk at the corner of her smiling mouth. "Him!" she said eloquently. "Runin' after a girl!" The tour of inspection took in the hay barn and wagon shed, tool house and store house, a disused blacksmith shop cluttered with odds and ends, a fairly good cabin with several bunks, used, no doubt, in busier days. There were farm implements more or less in repair, a fair assortment of tools, some noticeably patched harness and a quite respectable saddle. They left these dusty details behind them and walked slowly down beside the little creek, hustling busily along its stones. Young willows crowded close to its banks, cottonwoods towered gracefully, golden green with young leaves. It was quiet and lovely here. "An Indian," said Barry Duane, "would feed a tribe on what a Simpson wastes. A primitive dam out there and some irrigation ditches on each side would add acres to this place. But try to make them do it!" There was a curious bitterness in his voice, out of all relation to such a harmless subject. She wondered. "Why, I think it sounds exciting." "Yes, it's exciting enough." He broke off with an apologetic grin. "Don't let me get started. It's a hobby of mine. Come on, let's go up to that knoll. You will get a good view down your little valley and a nice glimpse of some aspens on the other side. When they turn in the autumn that upper slope is like running gold." Ditches and views and creeps, bitterness and an eye for mountain slopes running with autumn gold! An unexpected young man. Life might not winnih but really too much. "My name's Martha," said that capable woman composely, "and don't you worry about the work. It won't hurt 'em. Besides, they'd want to anyway. It's only neighborly. Now you run along and tell Barry to show you around, but before he goes he might as well help Boone out with that table. I thought we might have supper early, and eat it outdoors." A step sounded on the porch. Anne knew already whose it was. "I've brought you some water. Martha. The well seems in good shape, but I'll take a better look at it tomorrow. It's placed right for drainage too." He sighted Anne. White, even teeth flashed. "All ready for action? Come along, and I'll show you the estate." She trudged off gaily with him, to look at her kingdom. Martha looked after them, with elevated brow and that little quirk at the corner of her smiling mouth. "Him!" she said eloquently. "Runin' after a girl!" The tour of inspection took in the hay barn and wagon shed, tool house and store house, a disused blacksmith shop cluttered with odds and ends, a fairly good cabin with several bunks, used, no doubt, in busier days. There were farm implements more or less in repair, a fair assortment of tools, some noticeably patched harness and a quite respectable saddle. They left these dusty details behind them and walked slowly down beside the little creek, hustling busily along its stones. Young willows crowded close to its banks, cottonwoods towered gracefully, golden green with young leaves. It was quiet and lovely here. "An Indian," said Barry Duane, "would feed a tribe on what a Simpson wastes. A primitive dam out there and some irrigation ditches on each side would add acres to this place. But try to make them do it!" There was a curious bitterness in his voice, out of all relation to such a harmless subject. She wondered. "Why, I think it sounds exciting." "Yes, it's exciting enough." He broke off with an apologetic grin. "Don't let me get started. It's a hobby of mine. Come on, let's go up to that knoll. You will get a good view down your little valley and a nice glimpse of some aspens on the other side. When they turn in the autumn that upper slope is like running gold." Ditches and views and creeps, bitterness and an eye for mountain slopes running with autumn gold! An unexpected young man. Life might not winnih but really too much. "My name's Martha," said that capable woman composely, "and don't you worry about the work. It won't hurt 'em. Besides, they'd want to anyway. It's only neighborly. Now you run along and tell Barry to show you around, but before he goes he might as well help Boone out with that table. I thought we might have supper early, and eat it outdoors." A step sounded on the porch. Anne knew already whose it was. "I've brought you some water. Martha. The well seems in good shape, but I'll take a better look at it tomorrow. It's placed right for drainage too." He sighted Anne. White, even teeth flashed. "All ready for action? Come along, and I'll show you the estate." She trudged off gaily with him, to look at her kingdom. Martha looked after them, with elevated brow and that little quirk at the corner of her smiling mouth. "Him!" she said eloquently. "Runin' after a girl!" The tour of inspection took in the hay barn and wagon shed, tool house and store house, a disused blacksmith shop cluttered with odds and ends, a fairly good cabin with several bunks, used, no doubt, in busier days. There were farm implements more or less in repair, a fair assortment of tools, some noticeably patched harness and a quite respectable saddle. They left these dusty details behind them and walked slowly down beside the little creek, hustling busily along its stones. Young willows crowded close to its banks, cottonwoods towered gracefully, golden green with young leaves. It was quiet and lovely here. "An Indian," said Barry Duane, "would feed a tribe on what a Simpson wastes. A primitive dam out there and some irrigation ditches on each side would add acres to this place. But try to make them do it!" There was a curious bitterness in his voice, out of all relation to such a harmless subject. She wondered. "Why, I think it sounds exciting." "Yes, it's exciting enough." He broke off with an apologetic grin. "Don't let me get started. It's a hobby of mine. Come on, let's go up to that knoll. You will get a good view down your little valley and a nice glimpse of some aspens on the other side. When they turn in the autumn that upper slope is like running gold." Ditches and views and creeps, bitterness and an eye for mountain slopes running with autumn gold! An unexpected young man. Life might not winnih but really too much. "My name's Martha," said that capable woman composely, "and don't you worry about the work. It won't hurt 'em. Besides, they'd want to anyway. It's only neighborly. Now you run along and tell Barry to show you around, but before he goes he might as well help Boone out with that table.I thought we might have supper early; but if any chance disaster sue her even here,and tha flight should come sudden." "Hide me!" she whispered "Hold me and hide me;" remember my face! A memory stung her life She shook it off abruptly to her feet. Four days had passed had arrived at this turbulent ranch of hers; almost unremitting work sent her to bed with every testing and had swept her utes into dreamless sleep.From the kitchen came rattle of pans.Anne's wide and she reached for lying on an unsteady little her bed.Seven o'clock!A swing and a soft thruout of bed,and she thrived door and ran out.Martha,you villain,you oversleep! Don't you know working woman? Her shrewd eyes warmen an inner protest; as they l gay little figure in the l Bright eyes and the curate feet thrust into gai slippers,silken,i impude scarlet and black."If you're gain't to run those red pants,you'd be eye on the door.First this one of your reglar calle stickin' his head in,and you look like?" "Why,just like this!"a bit of gay silk in each forefinger and bowed e Then with a sudden glint in swuving o a slippered foot angle and twirled off in on the low, lazy old porch, with the weathered logs making a silvered background for her vivid youth and the lovely flame in her cheeks. "Don't see why they shouldn't," she agreed calmly. "There's plenty to eat, and we can easy keep two men busy until supper time. Boone, you take these things out, and I'll show you where they go. And then you might clean out the stove—it'll need it—and lay a fire for me. Barry suppose you show Miss Cushing around and tell her about things. And you might take a look at the well and see if it needs cleanin' out." Anne listened to them, eyes alight with laughter. "Tell me when I can help. I'm not going to be a drone, you know. But I want to see what the house is like, first. Coming?" This was not addressed to Martha. A slightly dizzy young man picked up a suitcase in each hand, and followed her. The door yielded under her hand with a gentle squeak, and a slanting ray of sunlight followed her in. She was in a fair-sized room, with doors on both sides leading to other rooms. The first impression was one of dust and barrenness, the hasty litter of odds and ends dropped in moving. The room wasn't bad at all. The bare floors needed scrubbing, but there was a generous stone fireplace with some glinting quartz surfaces, and a long mantel above it formed of a single cedar slab. The time-darkened beans were hand hewn, and if the few pieces of furniture were heavy and primitive, that, had she known it, was something to give thanks for. "M'm, I'm glad Mrs. Larrabee is a cyclone. But I love the old beams and that fireplace — although it's hard to imagine ever needing a fire after that sunshine outside." "Wait until the nipping nights come, They can be chilly enough now." He lingered in the doorway. "I'll do a chore or two for Martha before she gets after me, and then if you're ready, we can take a look around . . . Or perhaps you'd rather unpack first." "Yes, it's exciting enough." He broke off with an apologetic grin. "Don't let me get started. It's a hobby of mine. Come on, let's go up to that knoll. You will get a good view down your little valley and a nice glimpse of some aspens on the other side. When they turn in the autumn that upper slope is like running gold." Ditches and views and creeps, bitterness and an eye for mountain slopes running with autumn gold! An unexpected young man. Life might not be so solitary here after all. That had been hours ago. They had eaten picnic fashion, with zestful appetite and in the open air. Strange that it should seem so natural! They had talked of deserts and of deep bosomed hills, of the temperamental habits of the dry sandy washes in the season of rains. Of everything, in fact, except the reason why a girl with beautiful hands and the smart tailoring of expensive city shops should have elected to live on a little ranch in an isolated valley. Then finally, rather reluctantly, her two sun-browned guardians had climbed into the disreputable car and departed. After that she had tied herself into a big apron and worked with Martha, despite protest, and now, after two hours of beating and dusting and washing and dragging things around she sat quietly by herself on the amiably sagging porch. From somewhere near the lower meadow she heard the deliberate trump of hoofs, the tear and crunch of the meadow grass. That would be one of her horses. The steady crunching made her drowsy. The valley was so quiet. The wooded ridges tucked it in. Back of the ridges tall peaks loomed darkly, mysterious in moonlight. Trail's End. She wondered if it would be. She had learned that "home" for Barry was rather high up in the hills. She wondered if he had always lived there. He must have been away to school. He didn't talk like the others. She liked him. "Love of Christ" Extolled at Rev. O. R. Schroeder, the subject of "The Exceeding Love of Christ," added second of the weekly Urkiss held Sunday evening at the amphi-theater. Assisting cluded W. R. Thornton, W. sky, A. F. Ritchey, T. H. The speaker quoted from 3:19 "And to know the love which passeth all know claimed that "we must hearts more and more to as the flowers to the sun thus take it in and allow in our lives and through it is a blessed thing to Chirst's love." For his love makes my joy so complex know He loves even me'". To give old silk dresses pearance, sponge them with water and press them on side. The gum-arbic shoe solved in hot water. Martha's solid step sounded back of her. "You better get to bed. You look mighty near done out to me." "Just lazy. You've done wonders like my ranch, Martha. Perhaps I'm hopeless greenhorn, but I do." "So do I," said Martha unexpectedly. "I've always liked it." "Oh, do you?" A certain listlessness had gone out of her voice. "I thought perhaps—well, it's generally agreed to be rather run down, isn't it?" "Nothing that plain, ordinary hard work and a little backbone won't bring up again," said Martha bluntly. There's a home and a reasonable livin' in it, and in good years there ought to be a little over to tuck in the bank. She looked shrewdly down at the small dark head, at shapey, tapering-gerged hands clasped over a rounded nnee. Martha had a head and used it, but whatever she may have felt of curiosity or doubt she kept to herself. She added a brief after thought, cautiously. "And if you ever got tired of ranchin', guess you wouldn't have any trouble turnin' your money over. Anybody would easily turn it into a dude ranch, and I guess there's rich men that could like it just for the shootin' and shin' back in the hills. Now I'm on my way to bed. We've got to get up early tomorrow morning." "All right, Martha. I'll follow in a minute. Be sure to call me." "And if you ever got tired of ranchin', guess you wouldn't have any trouble turnin' your money over. Anybody would easily turn it into a dude ranch, and I guess there's rich men that could like it just for the shootin' and shin' back in the hills. Now I'm on my way to bed. We've got to get up early tomorrow morning." "All right, Martha. I'll follow in a minute. Be sure to call me." The firm step retreated. Anne was gone again, and thoughtful. Home and living. It was curious how precious that seemed now. Hidden away in her smaller suitcase there was still a little ore of bills in that golden bag, hated and yet miraculous. Enough to buy some needed things for her ranchito, and a little in reserve, always in reserve, by any chance disaster should purse her even here, and the need for night should come suddenly. "Hide me!" she whispered fiercely. Hold me and hide me, until no one members my face!" A memory stung her like a nettle, she shook it off abruptly and jumped to her feet. Four days had passed since Anne had arrived at this tucked away, neglected ranch of hers, four days of almost unremitting work which had sent her to bed with every muscle protesting and had swept her in five minutes into dreamless sleep. From the kitchen came a subduedattle of pans. Anne's eyes opened inside and she reached for the watch lying on an unsteady little table beside her bed. Seven o'clock! A swing and a soft trump took her out of bed, and she threw open the door and ran out. "Martha, you villain, you've let me oversleep! Don't you know I'm a hard-working woman?" Her shrewd eyes warmed, in spite of an inner protest, as they looked at the day little figure in the kitchen door. Bright eyes and a curly mop of hair, bare feet thrust into gaudy Chinese clippers, silken, impudent pajamas, scarlet and black. "If you're goin' to run around in nose red pants, you'd better keep an eye on the door. First thing you know one of your regular callers will be clickin' his head in, and then what'll you look like?" "Why, just like this!" She plucked bit of gay silk in each thumb and frelinger and bowed extravagantly, then with a sudden glint in her eye she wung out a slippered foot at a perilous single and twirled off in a series of dances. The older and wife, and recorded December 20, 1927, in Book 118, page 92 of Official Records of Orange County, California, which was given to secure a promissory note for the sum of $1,100.00, with interest at the rate of eight per cent per annum, principal and interest being payable in monthly installments of $12.85 each, on the first day of each and every month, beginning December 1, 1927, in accordance with the terms of said deed of trust, and in compliance with a notice of default and demand for sale of the property in the said deed of trust and hereinafter described, recorded on March 14, 1934, in Book 666, page 73 of Official Records of Orange County, California, executed by the owner and holder of said note on account of the default in the payment of the installment which became due and payable under the terms of said note on February 1, 1933, and all payments due subsequently thereto, there being a total sum of $769.63 due and unpaid on the 26th day of February, 1934, and all payments due subsequently thereto—will sell at public auction, for cash, lawful money of the United States, and to the highest bidder, subject to liens and encumbrances prior to said deed of trust, the following described property, situate in the County of Orange, State of California: Lot No. 62 of Tract No. 714, Homewood, as shown on a Map recorded in Book 21, page 12 of Miscellaneous Maps, Records of Orange County, California, or so much thereof as shall be necessary to pay the principal, interest, advances, charges, costs and trustee's fees due and unpaid at the date of said sales. Dated June 18, 1934. BANK OF AMERICA NATIONAL TRUST AND SAVINGS ASSOCIATION. By R. D. Fuller, Trust Officer, And W. Dale Bell, Assistant Trust Officer. (Successor to The First National Bank of Anaheim, a corporation). 6/21-28; 7/5-12, 1934. NOTICE OF SALE OF REAL PROPERTY BY TRUSTEE UNDER DEED OF TRUST TRUST NO. 601 WHEREAS, J. WARNER SWAIN, a single man, by Deed of Trust, dated August 30th, 1929, recorded September and wife, and recorded December 20, 1927, in Book 118, page 92 of Official Records of Orange County, California, which was given to secure a promissory note for the sum of $1,100.00, with interest at the rate of eight per cent per annum, principal and interest being payable in monthly installments of $12.85 each, on the first day of each and every month, beginning December 1, 1927, in accordance with the terms of said deed of trust,and in compliance with a notice of default and demand for sale of the property in the said deed of trust and hereinafter described, recorded on March 14, 1934,在Book 666，page 73of OfficialRecordsOfOrangeCounty，California，executedbytheownerandholderofsaidnoteonaccountofthedefaultinthepaymentoftheinstallmentwhichbecamedueandpayableunderthetermsofsaidnoteonFebruary1，1933,andallpaymentsduesubsequentlythereto,thebeingatotalsumof$769.63dueandunpaidonthe26thdayofFebruary，1934,andallpaymentsduesubsequentlythereto,thebeingatotalsumof$769.63dueandunpaidonthe26thdayofFebruary，1934,andallpaymentsduesubsequentlythereto,thebeingatotalsumof$769.63dueandunpaidonthe26thdayofFebruary，1934,andallpaymentsduesubsequentlythereto,thebeingatotalsumof$769.63dueandunpaidonthe26thdayofFebruary，1934,andallpaymentsduesubsequentlythereto,thebeingatotalsumof$769.63dueandunpaidonthe26thdayofFebruary，1934,andallpaymentsduesubsequentlythereto,thebeingatotalsumof$769.63dueandunpaidonthe26thdayofFebruary，1934,andallpaymentsduesubsequentlythereto,thebeingatotalsumof$769.63dueandunpaidonthe26thdayofFebruary，1934,andallpaymentsduesubsequentlythereto,thebeingatotalsumof$769.63dueandunpaidonthe26thdayofFebruary，1934,andallpaymentsduesubsequentlythereto,thebeingatotalsumof$769.63dueandunpaidonthe26thdayofFebruary，1934,andallpaymentsduesubsequentlythereto,thebeingatotalsumof$769.63dueandunpaidonthe26thdayofFebruary，1934,andallpaymentsduesubsequentlythereto,thebeingatotalsumof$769.63dueandunpaidonthe26thdayofFebruary，1934,andallpaymentsduesubsequentlythereto,thebeingatotalsumof$769.63dueandunpaidonthe26thdayofFebruary，1934,andallpaymentsduesubsequentlythereto,thebeingatotalsumof$769.63dueandunpaidonthe26thdayofFebruary，1934,andallpaymentsduesubsequentlythereto,thebeingatotalsumof$769.63dueandunpaidonthe26thdayofFebruary，1934,andallpaymentsduesubsequentlythereto,thebeingatotalsumof$769.63dueandunpaidonthe26thdayofFebruary，1934,andallpayments due sublasedtateofofthedailyinstallmentsof$27.72eachonthe1stdayofthemonthbeginningNovember1st，1930;and WHEREAS，default has occurred in that the installment of principal and interest due on said note on October 1st，1933，has not been paid;and WHEREAS，《Equitable Life Assurance Society of the United States owner and holder of said note heretofore demanded that said Trustee sell said property and on March 26th，1934,duly recorded in the office of the County Recorder of said County，在Book 664，page 363of OfficialRecords thereof,a notice of said default and of its election to cause said property to be sold and more than three months have now elapsed since the recordation of said notice.The sum of $2060.29 principal and interest thereon from December 31，1933plusintereston$2161.29fromSeptember1，1933toDecember31，1933isnow due，owingandunpaidonsaidnoteandthereisalsosecuredbysaidDeedOfTrusttheTrustee'sfeeandexpensesofsale Estimatedat$223.00,togetherwith$61.21paidandadvancedbytheownerofsaldnoteinaccordancewiththeprovisionsofsaidDeedOfTrustwithinterestonsaidlastmentionedsumfromMarch14th，1934.NOWTHEREFORENOTISHEREBYGIVENthatthesaldOrangeCountyTitleCompany,b yvirtueoftheauthorityvestedinitasTrusteeundersaidDeedOfTrustwillsellatpublicauction,tothehighestbidderforcashlawfulmoneyoftheUnitedStates.onthe23rddayofJuly，1934.atthe hourofeleveno'clockA.M.,ofsaiddayattheNorthentranceoftheHallOfRecordsintheCityOfSantaAnna,Cali- "If you're gain't to run around in those red pants, you'd better keep an eye on the door. First thing you know one of your regular callers will be trickin' his head in, and then what'll you look like?" "Why, just like this!" She plucked a bit of gay silk in each thumb and forefinger and bowed extravagantly. Then with a sudden glint in her eye she swung out a slippered foot at a perilous angle and twirled off in a series of extraordinary dance steps. The older woman stared at her, a girl gone mad, whirling and swooping, small feet stamping a curious time beat in light, taccato thuds. "Like it, Martha?" Martha got her breath back. "Oh, goong," she said crossly, and a laugh came back to her as the slim legsashed through the bedroom door. Continued Next Week "Love of Christ" Is Extolled at Service Rev. O. R. Schroeder, taking as his subject "The Exceeding Greatness of the Love of Christ," addressed the second of the weekly Union Services held Sunday evening at the city park amphitheater. Assisting pastors included W. R. Thornton, William Rogatky, A. F. Ritchey, T. H. Walker. The speaker quoted from Ephesians 1:19 "And to know the love of Christ, which passeth all knowledge." He claimed that "we must unfold our hearts more and more to its influence, as the flowers to the sunbeams, and thus take it in and allow it to operate on our lives and through our lives. It is a blessed thing to lay hold on Christ's love. For his love is so sweet, makes my joy so complete; when I know He loves even me." To give old silk dresses a new appearance, sponge them with gum-arabic water and press them on the wrong side. The gum-arabic should be dissolved in hot water. NOTICE OF SALE OF REAL PROPERTY BY TRUSTEE UNDER DEED OF TRUST TRUST NO. 601 WHEREAS, J. WARNER SWAIN, a single man, by Deed of Trust, dated August 30th, 1929, recorded September 5th, 1929 in Book 305, page 272 of Official Records of Orange County, California. did grant and convey the property therein and hereinafter described, to the Orange County Title Company, as Trustee, to secure, among other obligations, the payment of one promissory note dated August 30th, 1929, payable to HOME MUTUAL BUILDING AND LOAN ASSOCIATION OF SANTA ANA, or order, for the principal sum of $2200.00, with interest at the rate of 7.8% per annum, principal and interest due in monthly installments of $27.50 each on the 1st day of each month beginning December 1st, 1929; and WHEREAS, default has occurred in that installment of principal and interest due on said note on October 1st, 1932, has not been paid; and WHEREAS, PACIFIC STATES SAVINGS AND LOAN COMPANY, then owner and holder of said note heretofore demanded that said Trustee sell said property and on June 12th, 1933, duly recorded in the office of the County Recorder of said County, in Book 617, page 462 of Official Records thereof, a notice of said default and of its election to cause said property to be sold and more than three months have now elapsed since the recordation of said notice. The sum of $1758.55 principal less $20.07 credit from installment share, and interest thereon from September 5th, 1932, is now due, owing and unpaid on said note and there is also secured by said Deed of Trust the Trustee's fee and expenses of sale, estimated at $203.00. NOW THEREFORE, NOTICE IS the said Orange by virtue of the Trustee under sell at public holder for cash, United States, on 34, at the hour of sale day at the Hall of Re-anta Ana, Cali conveyed to it and to all the property situated State of Caliws, to-wit— (3) of "Tract on a Map page 38 of records ofornia. of way for a ad across Lot by (60) of the conveyed by the Southern Company, by 178, page 40 Orange County, erty as shall be provide a sum total amount Trust. June, 1934. UNTY PANY, GARDNER, President. A. PARKER, Secretary. PAGE FIVE Rev. I. N. Demy says: I have found nothing in the past 20 years that can take the place of Dr. Miles Anti-Pain Pills. They are a sure relief for my headache." Sufferers from Headache, Neuralgia, Toothache, Backache, Sciatica, Rheumatism, Lumbago, Neuritis, Muscular Pains, Periodic Pains, write that they have used Dr. Miles Anti-Pain Pills with better results than they had even hoped for. Countless American housewives would no more think of keeping house without Dr. Miles Anti-Pain Pills than without flour or sugar. Keep a package in your medicine cabinet and save yourself needless suffering. At Drug Stores—25c and $1.00 DR. MILES' ANTI-PAIN PILLS BUSINESS DIRECTORY Ambulance Service Phone 3212 Open Evenings BUSINESS DIRECTORY Ambulance Service Day or Night—Phone 3209 Backs, Terry & Campbell H. P. CAMPBELL, Resident Director 251 No. Lemon Street ANAHEIM, CALIFORNIA Phone 3212 Open Evenings Sunday by Appointment DR. OSHER, PHYSICIAN & SURGEON Eye, Ear, Nose and Throat Dentist—Painless Extration Ocullus—Glasses Fitted 107½ E. Center Street ANAHEIM, CALIFORNIA Office Phone 3213 Residence 887 South Los Angeles St Residence Phone 2610 Hours: — 11-12; 2-4; 7-8 J. W. Truxaw, M.D. PHYSICIAN & SURGEON Golden State Bank Bldg. Cor Center and Los Angeles Sts. ANAHEIM, CALIFORNIA Telephone 4105 DeLuxe Ambulance Service HILGENFELD'S FUNERAL HOME South Lemon at Broadway ANAHEIM, CALIFORNIA Sash and Doors Nagel-Gohres & Co. 418 S. Lemon St. ANAHEIM, CALIFORNIA ANAHEIM FEED AND FUEL CO. Dealers in GRAIN - FLOUR - SEEDS - WOOD - COAL - HAY Phone 3210 W. D. GRAFTON, Prop ANAHEIM FEED AND FUEL CO. Dealers in GRAIN - FLOUR - SEEDS - WOOD - COAL - HAY Phone 3210 W. D. GRAFTON, Prop Public Weighing Scales 242 W. Center St. NOW LET'S GET TO OTHER PARTS OF THE WORLD AND SEE WHAT WE CAN FIND. THE BUREAU OF FORESTRY SAYS THAT THE AVERAGE AGE OF TREES IS BETWEEN 200 AND 300 YEARS. SEQUOIA IS FAMOUS AS THE INVENTOR OF THE CHEROKEE ALPHABET. HE WAS BORN IN TENNESSEE ABOUT 1760 & GREW UP WITH THE INDIAN TRIBE.