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Weber 10 143 143—40 C. Jonas 10 10 150—40 J. Richards 10 10 150—40 H. Lefurgey 141 133—30 Totals 781 70 70 019 Jask’s 81-Speed ft Retnhold 10 153 177-474 J. Coulter...; 10 170 105-30 A. Graff 123 303 134—30 ft Hubbard 191 10 153-606 H Devantler 10 111 130—614 Totals 741 09 705 2375 Broadway Marks H. Thomas 10 10 133—40 R. Lons 10 10 106-40 L. Dutkiewicz 110 10 133-30 B. Thomas 10 179 143—40 S. Long 171 117 191—413 Handicap 54 0 54-10 Totals 773 70 70 014 Parted 34 Years; Re-Union Planned DRtvoiter Locates Parents Ha Daatn't Iren Know (ft DETROIT, March 7. (ff) During his vacation next August, 36-year-old Wilfred Harris of Detroit expects to be reunited with his parents at Edgeworth, Sask., after a Reparation of 34 years. Harris had believed his parents dead, but his wife, Gertrude, who said she couldn’t bear to see her husband unhappy, began checking with a number of Canadian postmasters and finally traced their whereabouts. Harris explained that he was adopted by a neighboring farmer at Collingsworth, Ont., when he was six weeks old because his mother was not expected to live. Later, when his mother regained Her health, his foster parent refused to release him. When two years old, Harris said he last saw his mother, who moved away "because she could not bear being so near to me and yet not having me." At the age of 13, Harris ran away from his foster parents and worked on farms for about seven years. In 1925, he moved to Detroit and recently applied for citizenship papers. C^EBi 4 ROOM HOUSE.? 8 24x24x8 Double Construction. Intire for 16" 0. C. Cement foundation will pose St. Cloir Shores, Roseville, Clinton Township or any Building Code. BIST QUAD! LUMBER ("TANARUS A Cflfl COMPLETE WITH LABOR Jm%3 20,000 h. (Misc.) PLYWOOD— S’ 3* 7T 4 ROOM HOUSE.f-.’ss $315.00 NO DOWN PAYMENT BEQUIEED—S TEAMS TO FAT GARAGES Low as $61.00 ORIGINATORS OF LOW PRICES IN MACOMS COUNTY. FILMORE LUMBER CO. --—I ■ - - ' X MOM oMatmt ate. at rvuni mmmum mmyeuim Atop no* amt Filler Paris Stirs. Wakes... Jacks^oain> Returning Correspondent Finds Parisians Recovering from 'Invasion Numbness' By JEAN A^GRAPTO NBA Sxrvtaa Staff Oarvespeadtmt PARIS, March 7.—The people of Paris are Just getting to their feet and blinking the fog out of their eyes. For months after June 14, when destiny's referee counted 10 over the fallen metropolis of France, the native Parisian lay in witless stupor. Best way to judge a Parisian's morale is to listen to him talk. During all that time, he had nothing to say. He (didn't sit around after work and bubble over with ideas and arguments. There was nothing to bubble about. And he wouldn't have had the heart for it anyway. Upon German soldiers and tourists streaming along Champs Elysées and the boulevards, the Parisian looked, without rancor — actually without much feeling of any kind. If you asked him, "What do you think of it all?" he replied only, "Who knows?" or "Don't ask me, I’ve got the blues." Today, announcements by the French and German officials in occupied France insist the patient is better and probably will pull through. THE OLD-TIME PARIS HEART-BEAT If you want to feel something like the old-time Paris heart beat again, get out among the people. Take Number 89 bus from suburban Petit Menage. Its first trip is at 5:30 a.m. on weekdays, carrying workers to factories on the southern fringe of Paris. Romeo Farmer Passes Away Death Claims William Smith, 72, for years a Romeo resident, died yesterday afternoon at a local hospital, where he had been a patient for the past four days. Born in Ray township, Mr. Smith was a life-long resident of Macomb county. Prior to his retirement, he was an expert carpenter. A brother, Claude, of Mount Clemens, survives him. Funeral services will be held Friday at 2 p.m. from the D.N. Cooley Funeral Home, with the Rev. G.A. Merifield, pastor of Grace Episcopal church, officiating. Baptist Family Night Program is Postponed The Mount Clemens Baptist Family Night meeting, scheduled for tonight, will be postponed one week to enable members to attend the Spring Baptist Laymen’s Rally at Detroit. Professor Mitchell, of the University of Detroit, who was scheduled to speak at Friday night's meeting, will appear at the next meeting, it was announced. Joan A. Graff, family secretary of the Daily Monitor, will speak at the next meeting, it was announced. Joan A. Graff, family secretary of the Daily Monitor, will speak at the next meeting, it was announced. Filed from the front, there just ahead of the swift German advance last June. Recently Graffte, who now represents NRA in Berlin, retained briefly to Paris. He is able, in the seccamancy, to compare life troops with that of "only yesterday." PARIS UNDER CONTROL: German soldiers strolling on a Paris boulevard give a military salute in acknowledgement of "Nasi" "hell" by patrons of a sidewalk case. On the swaying rear platform, the biting cold is warmed by the chatter of a dozen voices. Cigarettes stuck to lower lips bob in the dark. Ribald stories bring loud guffaws. Jolting around a sharp corner, a chorus leans out into the wind to tell the driver how to handle a bus. At the stops, twos and threes swing off with lunch buckets. Gossip, small talk, jokes, wise cracks to no one in particular. Just Frenchmen coming back to life. Strangely little talk of politics. No talk about Germans. Suppose, at the end of the bus, the failure of the aeriea of the aeriea. Trapped by a cheek, April pleads for accuracy—and Kent Carter arrives. He admits being a witness to the affair. Then Ann sees the day. What's the matter? ANN BETS THE DAY CHAPTER XX It was Hal Parks who took things in hand when he arrived. With one arm protectingly around April, he talked to the constable, drove to the police station and arranged for bond. The date of the hearing in lower court was set for the following Friday. That night April came home early, managed to carry the hidden brown suitcase into the house unseen. Not that it mattered, she thought with a wry smile twisting her mouth, if all the family, all the town watched her. It was too late now to spare Ann from the gossip that would be sure to follow Winkie’s suit; too late to keep Dad from knowing she was accused of trying to "fix" a case. Lying awake in bed that night, she was sure she heard sounds of sobs from the adjoining room where Ann slept. But there was no sign of tears in Ann's eyes the next morning. Except for her pallor, she was (Continued on Page 2) DRAFTED FOR LOVE QUICKIES You go back downtown by metro. Clerks, shopgirls, office workers are reading morning papers, commenting on news items to anyone who will listen. Often no one listens, but what of it? A German soldier steps aboard and the Parisians inspect him as they always inspect a newcomer — frankly, from head to foot. To foot. Then they forget him. He stands by the door, fingering an unlit cigarette. He probably wishes he were on the Berlin Ubahn where subway smoking is permitted. Several months of "No Smoking" reminders in all metros finally convinced the vendor he couldn’t light up underground here. seemingly as happy as she had been since Kent had returned. "Kent and I have set our wedding day," she announced at the breakfast table. "It will be on Saturday afternoon, Mother, and because—well, because of everything, we’ve decided it will be a very quiet ceremony here at home." Mother brightened instantly at this news, although she showed the marks of worry from the experience last night when Winkie had brought the warrant. Stye put down her coffee cup with a clatter. "Saturday? We never can do it. Today is Tuesday, so that means only four days to get ready." "Oh, I think we can manage it nicely," Ann said. "You going to the altar on Saturday and me to jail on Friday," April tried to joke. "Please, April," Mother pleaded, and then almost at once forgot her distress in the hasty making of plans. April tried to avoid Ann that morning, but her sister caught up with her in the hallway. "Was there some reason," she asked, "why you didn’t want to tell me that you took Kent to the train that night?" April shrugged. "Really, it!" At station stops, signs and posters still litter walls. New elements have appeared in the bizarre array of ads for nos trums, Turkish baths, stoves and Dubonnet. One poster tells the French that the English are responsible for France’s woes. Another shows a drowning French sailor, victim of British sea attacks. The caption says "Don't worry." Forget Oran! Some of these one-sheets have been defaced. "Oran" has been crossed out, leaving only the words, "Don't Forget." It's a gabby, gossipy crowd getting out downtown. Passengers pour into already crowded downtown. By Ruth Ayers, didn't seem important." "You didn't think it important when you tried to pay off Winkie Appleman?" When April made no answer, Ann went on, "I can't help wondering now if you saw Kent at any other time when I was away." "For goodness sakes," April blustered, "why should I have wanted to see Kent Carter when Hal Parks and the rest of my erstwhile cavaliers were rushing me around at the Casa Blanca and gay places." Mother joined them then, ready for a shopping trip downtown. She was so busy fussing with samples of white silks and satins that she didn't notice anything wrong. But April knew that Ann's suspicions were growing by leaps and bounds. All that Tuesday, April stayed in her room, Nip's wiry head cocked knowingly at her. Nip knew. Winkie Appleman knew. The man at the garage where she had had the chains put on that awful night had openly taunted her about going up to the Carter place. Even Octavia was putting two and two together. Yes, it seemed as if all Pattonsville was going to know that April Burnett had masqueraded as her sister, and fallen in love with Ann's sweetheart. She pleaded an excuse when Hal called. She sidestepped the family. Best and most important she didn’t see Kent again. On Wednesday, Dad came into her room and settled himself for a walk... "I’m awfully sorry about this mess," April blurted. But Dad wasn't angry. "You're not to worry," he said. The hearing on Friday will be a preliminary one, likely held over, until later. I'll defend you, of course, see you through it. It would have been better if you'd told me about it at the time, but you were so sick afterwards and then probably all you wanted to do was forget it." "Yes, that was what I wanted. To forget it." Dad questioned her, made notes. "I can't believe you hurt Winfield Appleman," he finally said. "Winkle's a pretty hardy old man. But he's nursed a giverance against me since I sent him to the workhouse a few years ago. Maybe this is the way he's getting back at us." "Dad, I tell the truth on the stand. I'll take a chance that everything will come out all right. But I don't want to bring anyone else into this. Not Sand Dodson, streets, streets which are crowded the day long with shop parades, soldiers, autos, sightseers, errand runners, German truck caravans, marching battalions (some with steaming field kitchens,) now and then a military band. Frequently low-flying planes roar over. The French seem blithe enough now, unstirred by the stern element in their scene. In favorite restaurants, they sit complacently across from German officers, squawk mildly at higher prices. Those eating at home eat less well because housewives don't always Have luck in the market place queues. One woman told me that her family sometimes is notable to get meat for weeks at a time. At the six p.m. bistro convention hour, your Parisian now unlimbers slightly more and may deliver some observations on politics. He is very careful, even among friends, not to go too far afield. It's almost hopeless to get him to say anything, pro or con, about England. One wineshop keeper spoke in judiciously, telling how two German soldiers came in for a bottle of champagne. The soldiers were jokingly talking about another tradesman who had just charged them three times the price for silk stockings when he learned they were unfamiliar with the exchange. Whereupon, the wine merchant related, he expressed his sympathy and charged them three times the regular price for their champagne. Carter, Dad. Please, he won't have to be at the trial, will he?" "Kent?" Dad smiled in a secretive way. "But Kent insists. Nothing I could say would keep him away. He wants a chance to testify." He came over and patted her shoulder. "I've an idea you've been through more than we realize, Daffy," he said. "When I get you cleared in this case and the excitement of the wedding is over, I'm going to make it up to you." "I'm all right," April stammered. "There's nothing you have to make up to me." "I think we've lost sight of you in the excitement of Ann's romance. Seems strange, doesn't it, our little Ann a bride?" "It's "It's wonderful," April said. "I’m very happy for Ann." Dad pursed his lips. "Yes," he began, "it is wonderful, and yet I have a feeling that underneath, something troubles Ann." Did Ann know? Had Ann guessed the whole truth about April and Kent? "What do you mean, Dad?" "More than anything, our Ann hoped to make a success of her voice. I don’t think she’ll ever quite get over the disappointment of the audition with Vivano." "All the more reason," April spoke up, "why nothing must spoil her happiness with Kent." On Thursday, Miss Evans, the seamstress, kept the sewing machine whirring. Octavia closed the kitchen door on the rich aroma of baking cakes and roasting meats. Florists surveyed the house for decorations for the wedding. Wedding! Ann and Kent’s wedding on Saturday. Ann herself, came and went humming softly; patient at fittings of the bridal gown; hurrying on innumerable errands. April decided she couldn’t stand the strain and suspense any longer. She herself had an errand to do—an errand that couldn't be put off any longer. She picked a time in the afternoon when she could leave the house unnoticed. Her ankle had completely healed, although she was still wabbly, weak Bern the long inactivity she made. She took a short cut across town, began walking up a familiar road. Her yellow hair blew around her face; her cheeks stung in. The January air, but kept climbing, the snow was still. 