Evening Star Newspaper, October 9, 1921, Page 62

/first upon his T of some of THE life of a book agent is far % from being the happiest lot and to some persons at some times it is the most miserable, but to Benny| Barr it was one continuous round of joy. To a different man the book- agency business is a source of con- stant, trepid agony. At each fresh door his lim's tremble and he Is obliged to goad his reluctant will to meet a fresh and insulting rebuff. Not so Benny. Benny would not have known diffidence if it stared him in the face. His feelings were as tough as raw leather. He was wuung, brisk, hustling and forceful, «ad when he was thrown down he Qid not bruise—he bounced. To Benny each new “prospect” was an opportunity to enjoy a battle. When he managed to force his way into & house and sell a copy of “Aunt Jane's Cook Book™ (price, $2, bound in oilcloth, 50 cents down and the bal- unce on delivery), he was happy, and when he attacked the enemy and was soleslessly routed he laughed—it was a good joke on Benny. ) In dress Benny was inclined to favor advanced styles. He said he liked his clothes to have a little “zipp” to them, and his manners sug- gested that he did not believe in a vyoung man being too crushed and downcast. His manners were so free from timidity, in fact, that the usual remark after he had left a house was, “Well, he is about the freshest youth I ever did see!” Benny swung off the train at the suburb of Westcote and made a bee- line for the best residence street. His instinct was almost infallible when residence streets were in ques- tion; not once in forty times did he fail to guess correctly, and if he did fail it made no difference to Benny, 1f, instead of reaching a street of neat suburban homes, he reached first a street of negro shanties, he sold "Aypt Jane's Cook Book" to the colored, washerwoman with the same pleagare he would have felt in sell- ingm to the leader of the town's Smart set. A sale was a sale, wher- ver made, but he preferred to see sale sheet the names the well-known women. 1t helped in selling to the others. * kK ¥ HE street Benny reached was a good one, the best in Westcote. 1t was so highly credentialed that i was known as “Aristocrat’s Row, this being a term of satirical import given the street by those who had not the good fortune to be Invited to functions like that which had this afternoon filled the parlor of Mrs. ‘Willoughby Jackson. & With his sample copy of “Aunt Jane's Cook Book” under his arm, a cigarette in the corner of his mouth and the fire of battle in his eye, Benny entered the first yard and mounted the steps to the front door. He placed his thumb against the bell button and held it there. He could hear the bell jangle inside the house Suddenly and he kept it jangling. the door opened and a maid stood looking at him. She looked but for one instant. She saw the book under ny's arm. : B ¢t no books!” she “We don't wan 3 said, and the banging door tu,lt t?;l: words in two as she shut Benny's face. Benny looked at the door a moment and descended the steps. House No. 1, a& defeat. He went to house No. 2. In approaching a house Benny's methoflp never varied. He walked Jauntily _into the yard, jauntily to the door, leaned b against the bell evelopments. It mounted the steps the end of his thum| button and waited d was simple but effective. If he con- tinued to push the button long enough and there was any man, woman or child in the house, some- one came to the door. The second house was larger than the first and more impressive. The door was of mahogany, beautifully Dolished. and it opened so suddenly that Benny almost fell inside. A mald in apron and cap gave him one don’t buy nothing from she said angrily, and siam- ed the beautiful mahogany door in Benny’s face. Benny flicked the ash from his cigarette, tilted his hat to one side, and walked down the steps. He was not perturbed at all. He entered the next yard and jauntily mounted the steps to the front door. He lighted a fresh cigarette before he pushed the bell button, and dropped his stub into the pot of a fan palm that stood on the porch. Then he Jeaned his thumb against the button and waited. The door opened. colored maid stood in_the doorway. She took one look at Benny. agents,” “Mis’ Hilyer ain't home she said crossly, and the door banged in Benny’s face again. He heard the lock. He shifted his f “Aunt Jane's Cook Book” to a resting place under the other arm. looked up and down the street carelessly, and walked down the steps. House No. 3! No matter; there were several thousand houses in Westcote. ‘[N the fourth house, as Benny stood 1" on Mrs. Hilyer's porch glancing up and down the street, Mrs. Wil- loughby Jackson walked nervously from her parlor into her living room, where her niece Eleanor was arrang- ing a tea table to suit ner own ideas as to how a tea table should be ar- ranged. In the parlor twenty ladies of the Thursday Afternoon Club chatted and tried to fill in the min- utes that were beginning to be irk- some. For an hour or more they had been trying to pretend that they did not mind the delay, while Mrs. Willoughby Jackson became more and more nervous. i “do key turn in the sample copy o * kK “Bleanor,” said Mrs. Jackson, you suppose that man is coming?" “] don't know, aunt’” said her nlece. “1 have told you before that Reginald Barr is too replete with ar- tistic temperament to suit me. You certainly can't expect an artistic tem- perament to mind little things like being on time.” «I suppose allowance does have to be made for that” said her aunt nervously. “But it is most annoying. If I had prepared anything else to entertain the ladies—but your mother wrote so positively that he would be here, and would read some of his poems. She said he could easily fill the afternoon.” “Ooh, he'd fill it said Eleanor. “He'll read_as long as any one will let him. He'll read as long as he can keep one of fis audience in agony. You have tb turn out the lights to stop him. And then he'll reeite from memory.” “Eleanor! To speak 80 of such a distingyished man, one of the few true poets our commercial age has: produced!” She glanced toward the parlor with anneyance. “But I don’t see why he doesn’t come. It is so unpleasant to keep repeating ex- cysas.’ “Don't fret.” said Eleanor. “If he thinks he can get a half dozen women to gurgle over him he'll come if he has to creep.” Mrs. Jackson returned to the par- lor with her sweetest smile. “So sorry our lion is delayed,” she I i purred. “Dear Eleanor assures me he will let no obstacle keep him away. If you would like a few hands ©of auction until he comes—* Mrs. Jackson was not as sure as her words indicated. She took from the waist of her gown the letter Fleanor's mother had written her. "Fhere were parts that did not have to do with the arrival of Reginald ‘Barr, although they had to do with the wealthy society poet himself. Eleanor’s mother referred to the poet as “the sweet poet” and “our dear poet” and “darling Reginald.” “f am quite, quite decided that dear Eleanor shall marry our dear poet,” she wrote, “in spite of her foolish fancy for Jack Hollins. Dar- ling Reginald is quite wealthy as well as & famous man, but Eleanor is o stubborn. Of course, I shall not Insist until I know your senti- ments; your word must be final, for 1 have such faith in your judgment; dear sipter.. I fhlnk yopr idea of having the sweet poet come to you and read his dear poems Thursday is admirable. He has promised to be with you at 3, and he knows how much depends on it, so he will not fail you.” Mrs. Jackson, having for the tenth timme confirmed her understanding that 3 o'clock was the hour written, re- placed the letter in her bosom. That her sister had written that the de- cision of Eleanor's aunt would be final did not inflate Mrs. Jackson's pride; she knew that, as the wealthy member of the family, and the one on whom Eleanor's future depended in case Eleanor did not marry money, her decision would be most weighty. Mrs. Jackson accepted this as a mat- ter of course, and accepfed it calmly, as she accepted ‘the leadership of ‘Westcote society, and the fact that poets, when parlor, should arrive on time. If Mr. Reginald Barr's automobile skidded and struck the curb midway between New York and Westcote, and lost a wheel (which was exactly what had happened), it had nothing to do with Mrs. Jackson. If Mr. Reginald Barr had an automobile that might skid «I WILL READ FIRST,” HE SAID, TURNING THE PAGES, “A LITTLE THING ENTITLED, ‘EGGLESS ANGEL FOOD,” PAGE 456, TOP OF PAGE.” and lose a wheel it was his duty, when_invited to read at Mrs. Wil- loughby Jackson's, to leave New York with an extra wheel, or two extra wheels, or an extra automobile, or a dozen extra automobiles, to hurry him on his way if he had an accident, so that he might arrive at 3 o'clock, as agreed. Therefore, while Regi- nald Barr sat on the curb and cursed in quite unpoetic terms his chauffeur, Mre. Jackson glanced again and again at her watch and became more and more provoked. At this most jnauspicious: moment Benny Bart, with his sample copy of “Aunt_Jane's Cook Book' under his arm, his hat on one side and his cigarette clinging to one side of his lower lip, walked up the steps, cross- ed Mrs. Willoughby Jackson's veran- da and placed his thumb firmly against the bell button. Instantly the door opened, and Mrs. Jackson’s butler (there were but two in Westcote) bent his head rever- ently. < “Please to step inside, sir,” said James. “The ladies are quite ready for you. They have been waiting, in fact, sir.” “Oh, stop! _You dom’t mean it George!” said Benny, playfully. “Just crazy to see me, I suppose?’ “Well, yes, sir, so you might say. Extremely impatient at least, sir,” said James. “Mrs. Jackson has been quite worried because of your non- arrival.” “Has she now!" exclaimed Benny. ‘Poor old dame, and to think I have kept her waiting! What's this, a tea party? Ex-cuse my * X X % E turned toward the door but Jammes kindly and with great firm- ness placed himself between Benny and the exit. James had his own idea of poets and their ways. This one should not escape if he could prevent it. Not until he had been safely delivered to Mrs. Willoughby son, al any rate. Now, qulit, Augustus,” said Benny, good-naturedly, “Let me out. Tl come back after the hoi polloi has scooted. I can't sell a book in a crowd like that.” “I dare say you are right, sir,” said James, defending the door, “but Mrs. Jackson would be quite put out if I permitted you to go, I'm sure.” “Well, Bill, you can search me!” exclaimed Benny. “Maybe it is all right, but it looks like some sort of a put-up job to me. Usually I don't bave to fight my way out, they help me out. What's the game?” The explanation might have been too much for James, but he was not called upon to make it. Mrs. Wil- loughby Jackson had heard the voices in the hall and advanced upon Eenny in the full splendor of her regalia, from lorgnette to bronze silk stockings. “My dear Mr. she cried, Barr!” holding out her hand. “I am so re- lieved. I had begun to fear you were going to fail us.” + “Say, now,” said Benny, “just wait a minute. Let me get this straight. Wrat is the joke? Who are these dames and for what am I supposed to be expected for?” “Ah! poetic eccentricities!” said Mrs. Willoughby Jackson playfully. “But 1 see you have brought your book, so we quite umderstand each othei “Oh, do we?” said Benny. “I know, this is a cooking class. Am I right?” “Now, please!” said Mrs. Willough- by Jackson. )ames, will you take Mr. Barr's hat? I am, of course,” she added to Benny, “Mrs. Willoughby Jackson, Eleanor’'s aunt, and now I will introduce you to the ladies of the Thursday Afternoon Club.” eanor’'s aunt!” said Benny to himself. “That doesn't sound so bad. Wonder who Eleahor is. Wonder who I am. Well, it will do no harm to have a_gilt-edge introduction to some of Westcote's swellest. Maybe I can pull off a few sales” and he entered the parlor behind Mrs. Wil loyghby Jackson. “Ladijes,” said Mrs. Jackson in_her best club voice, “this is Mr. Barr whom we have been awaiting with such genuine impatience. Mr. Barr, Mrs. Longworthy, our vice president. M Simms, our secretary. Mrs. ‘Dahlgren, our treasurer.” Over each extended hand, as he grasped it (they extend the hand in Westcote, particularly to celebrated poets), Benny bowed and uttered a “Glad to meet you.” FEleanor, hearing, came to the door and looked into the parlor. She gasped as she saw Mrs. Willoughby Jackson introducing some unknown man as Mr. Barr, the poet. She was tempted to cry out, but the look of pride on the face of her aunt warned her that to heap ridicule on that queenly lady by denouncing this in- terloper would be a mo®t unkind and shocking thing. She drew back and pressed her hands to her temples, thinking, and each moment Benny, the book agent, was introduced to an- other of Westcote's smart set. “And of course you know Eleanor,” said Mrs. Willoughby Jackson pleas- antly. Eleanor grasped one of the portieres with & trembling hand and Jooked full into Benny's twinkling eyes. “Oh, sure!” said Benny. “Of course! ‘Why not?” Eleanor drew back. Then, sudden- 1y, she put out her hand and touched her aunt’s arm. invited to read in her- « “Aunt!” she whispered, “may I speak to this—this person alone? Just one minute, aunt? Please! ‘Just one minute! aid Mrs. Wil- loughby, Jackson in her playfulest manner.® “We are all waiting for you, Mr. Barr, you know." Benny passed between the portferes. “ Come over here,” said Eleanor. yl;;el::g yo: v'vnst tea. Now, who are what do yo T Yoa mean by all She poured a cup for Benny and dropped no one knows how many Iun:’pa in it “Just what I was going to ask you,” said Benny. "\\1’1’10z am 1?7 s all the welcome-home stuff asked you who you wer: said Eleanor coldly. “Why are you here imposing on my aunt? answer I will have you thrown out at once. Did Reginald send you?" “Question one: Answer, Ben Barr, book agent, selling the swellest little cook hook market for $2,” Answer, who is impos- ‘Question two: Answer, who is ing? Question three: Reginald?” T don’t understand,” said Eleanor. “You can search Benny,” he said, sipping the tea. “I come to the door to sell an ‘Aunt Jane.’ George Au- gustus grabs me and hands me over to the swell dame. The swell dame passes me along the line and aho\'esl me in here. That's all I know. Now, who _am I supposed to be? And how do 1 get out of here? How about little Ben making a quick getaway out of one of these windows?" Eleanor rested her cheeck on her hand and looked at Benny. “My aunt thinks you are Reginald Barr, the poet,” she said thoughtfully., “She has been expecting him to read to the ladies. She has mistaken you for him. I wonder——" “So do I,” said Benny. “What's your wonder? “1 wonder if- ** gaid Eleanor slow- ly. “Oh, Jack! Benny turned and saw a husky young fellow at the hall door. “Here is where I get tossed through a perfectly good window pane” he sald. “My only request is that I am thrown feet first, glass does cut the scalp so.” “No, sit still!” said Eleanor. “Jack, come here. Something awful has hap- pened. Aunt has mistaken this man for Reggy Barr.” “Quite a natural mistake, but hard; on our friend here,” grinned Jack. “No, listen!” urged Eleanor. “She really thinks this gentleman is Reg- gy. She's going to have him read his poems to the ladies. She has intro- duced him to all of them, and, Jack: - es, Nellie?” oy, “You know that mother will do as aunt advises, about Reggy—about my marriage. I was wonderin, ¥ “Go ahead!” “This gentleman looks like such a pleasant man,” said Eleanor smiling on Benny. “I was wondering, if aunt happened to get very disgusted with—with whoever she thought was Reggy, if that wouldn't be just what we wanted? If Reggy dld not turn up this afternoon at all, Jack, and this gentleman—-" nny Barr,” said Benny 'm game! Lead me to grinning. (1. * % Kk «¢(\F course, some one would have to see that it Reggy came he did not get in,” said Elanor, “and Mr. Benny Barr would have to be almost more unpleasant than I think he can be—" «I'll take care of Reggy,” said Jack promptly. “I'll stand outside and lead him astray if I have to do it with an ax. «“And you don’t know until you see me what an awful cut-up I am,” said Benny. “But where do I get off? I'm cast to queer about twenty sales of “Aunt Jane's Cook Book’ at two dol- lars per, and what do I get out of {t?” “T1l take care of that,” said Jack promptly. “When Nellie and I clasp hands we'll need about twenty coples class cook book, won't we, whispered Eleanor, “aunt Jack hurried from the Toom. “And now, dear Reginald,” said Eleanor, emphasizng the name “I'must let you go. Aunt will want ou “It you are ready, please!” said Mrs. Willoghby Jackson. “the Is dies have finished a hand and are ready to hear your dear poems, Mr. Barr.” “Sure! ~ Sure!” said Benny. “That is what I am here for, isn't it? Any- thing to please the dames—that's my motto! kead me to it” “You see I have placed a stand here for you,” said Mrs. Jackson as she led Bunny into_the parlor. “And a glass of water. Readers so often wish a sip of water in a warm room?’ “A nice little rye highball goes better with me,” said Benny cheer- fully. “Water is all right in its place. You know that good old one: ‘Water? Water? says the fellow. “Let me see, what is water? 1'm sure I know what that word means. Oh, yes, I remem- ber. It's the stuff they put under bridges.’ Good one, hey?” Mrs. Jackson smiled a sickly smile. She glanced nervously at the other ladies, Several faces bore a shocked look. “I was just telling Mrs. Jackson a little joke,’ said Bénny easily as he took his place behind the little stand. “There's another I'll tell the whole crowd if you don’'t mind hearing one that is just a little rich. There was a fellow 2! “Plei said Mrs. Jackson nerv- ously. “If you will just read a few of your poems, Mr. Barr.” “Why, ‘soitenly’ as the fellow says,” sald Benny. ‘“Just thought you might like to hear a real zipper of a story. But you are right. You're right! It i8 no sort of story to tell in a crowd like this. Tl tell you when we are alone, after the crowd goes. read—May I have a chair?’ “Certainly,” sald Mrs. Jackson. “James, a chair for Mr. Barr.” “Always like to sit when I read,” said Benny. “It is so formal to stand around and read. Thanks, James. I will blg‘ln the entertajnment by read- ng—" He stopped short and wiggled his oulders 3 “Let's be comfortable, what say?" he said. “Just like & nice little party, Unless you | ! Now, the first little thing I'll; ‘THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. " BENNY, THE BOOK AGENT - — — — By Ellis Parker Butler shall we? Sort of Bohemian. You see,” he explained serlously, “this coat 18 so infernally tight under the arms I can’t feel like a poet in it. I feel like a clothing-store dummy, size 36 stout, in a 36 slim. Nothing gags the divine afflatus like being choked under the arms. You don’t mind my laying aside my coat?” “If you feel it is quite necessary,” sald Mrs. Jackson coldly. “In the meanwhile the ladies are walting for yol to begin.” “Thanks, awfull. said Benny, and he drew off his coat and tossed it carelessly to James, revealing a pair of shirt sleeves of striking red and white stripes. “And you look out you don’t pinch my cigarettes, Augus- tus,” he threatened James. “I know how many are in the box. Now, if the fat lady in the corner will please |y turn off her conversation a few min- utes. This Is supposed to be a solo and not a duet. Mrs. Jackson frowned and the stout that was ever put on the|lady turned very red. Benny settled answered Benny. | himself low tn the chair James had I A I provided and threw one knee comfor- tably over one arm of it. He ran his fingers through his hair, smiled at his audience and opened his book. He glared at it, stuck his face close to the pages, turned the book over. “Somebody has handed me double cross,” he said. “Some guy has pinched by tome and handed me a lemon.” “What is wrong?" asked Mrs. Jack- son, rustling up from the front row of chairs. Somebody pinched ave me a cook book untsJane’s Cook Book,' " he read, Two thousand cho ge recipes for the Kitchen and the chafng dish. Compiled by twenty-four of ..xmerica’s most noted culinary artists. Price $2 net’ Well, no matter! It will all be the same in a thousand years.” “But it does matter!” exclaimed Mrs. Jackson, vigorousi: “Not a bit!” said Benny, “I can read this just as well. Good home stuff, free from objectionable fea- tures. I will read first” he said, turning the pages, “a little thing en- titled *Eggless Angel Food,’ page 456, top of the page.” “Please, Mr. Barr!” said Mrs. Jack- the poems and d Benny. “Who is :, you or me? It you are, go ahead and read. I don't care. You don’t think I enjoy coming out here in the woods and reading to a lot of—of ladies, do you? Let me read what 1 want to. Honest, I get so tired reading those same old poems over and over that this will be a pleasure. ‘Eggless Angel Food. Take one cup of butter and mix well s * k ok ok I\IRS. JACKSON stepped back and clasped and unclasped her hands nervously while Benny read the recipe from start to finish. He kept time with the words by swinging his foot back and forth as it hung over the arm of the chair. He ended and turned over a few pages. “The next number on the pro- gram,” said Benny, “is ‘A Digestible Welsh Rabbit.’ Clarence, before I dip into this little gem, suppose you hand me a cigarett Ars. Jackson made a gesture of hopeless despair and James brought Benny a cigarette and a light. “Um!” said Benny, drawing a lung- ful of smoke, and he threw his other knee over the chair arm beside its fellow. Thus comfortably arranged, he rested his head on the opposite arm and held the book aloft. *‘A Digestible Welsh Rabbit’ " he read. “‘Take one pound of fresh cheese and slice into straws. Put half a bot- tle of beer'—that sounds good to me—'into the chafing dish, and when well heated add one teaspoonful of salt one mustard spoonful of cay- enne—"" Benny raised his head and looked at Eleanor. “Don’t bother about me, kid,” he said. “I likc these. This is some book. Things in this book I mever imagined in my life.”” “But you know, Reginald,” said Eleanor, “you came out to read your own poems to the ladies. I'm Sure they don't care to hear cooking recipes.” “Is that so!” said Benny. “And I suppose it don't make any difference what I like to read, does it? Oh, well, have it your own way! Bring on the book. We will now have a few inutes’ recess while the book is be- iz brought. i ing, what is the matter with letting George William pass the sandwiches?” “Just a little later” said Mrs. Jack- son. “But, I'm hungry,” said Benny, sit- ting upright. “When you have read,” said Mrs. Jackson, “we will adjourn to the other room, all of us.” “When I have read,” said Benny, mockingly. “That's fine for you. You didn’t have to scoot out from town on an empty stomach. But think of poor me! You don't care whether 1 drop dead in the middle of a verse or not. I can read and starve. That's always the way. If I was some poor guy you'd hand me $26 for an after- noon’s work like this, and feed me before you trotted me out, but just because I have a bank roll it's ‘No food for Reggy! Everywhere I go it is the same way. Kick jf I want my coat off; kick if I sit inja chair; kick all the time. And now all I ask for is a sandwich.” “James,” sald Mrs. Jackson, fiercely, “give him a sandwich.” “Oh, make it half a dozen, James!” said Beany, and James made it half a dozen, bripging them on a delicate white-and-gold plate and placing them on the stand at Benny's side. He took one of the sandwiches and dvoured ft greedily and washed it down with a swig of water. Eleanor came with “Ashes of Thistles” Mr. Reginald Barr's celebrated book of poems. “You are overdoing it,” she whis- pered. = “Am I?" whispered Benny, and he took the book and a sandwich and arose. He opened the book, smiled at Mrs. Jackson, took & large bite of sandwich and looked at his audience. “Um humf mum humf hum hum hum{,” he mumbled through the sandwich. 5 “Perhaps,s sald Mrs. Jackson, “if you either ate first or read first the Bt hl And while we are wait- | C., QCTOBER ladies would have from the reading.” wll!c;nny took another bite of sand- “I hummumf mum mummyhumf humf humf,” he said, pleasantly and swallowed. *“So I will read first ‘The Fight ot the Crane,’ whici,” and he took angther bite of sandwich, “humft mum hum mummummumf.” “It is one of his favorites,” explain- | ea EI began, and plunged into the seful verses of the paet: A ey “Deep azure the (bite of sandwich) humpfum um mumf mum mumd, Mummum humpfum mum humfum mumf, Mumf of the gold in the far, (bite of sandwich) humf m mum humf{ um mum humf ummum West.” more enjoyment far Benny paused to take a drink and another bite, but two of the ladies in the far corner arose, drawing their light wraps over their shoulders. They turned, looking on \their chairs for dropped gloves or handkerchiefs —a sure sign they were leaving, and Mrs. Jackson's face turned crimson. She put her hand on Benny's arm just as he was attacking the second verse of the poem. He looked around with surprise. “Thank you, Mr. Barr,” she said coldly, “I think we will end the read- ing here. We are extremely" (and what sarcasm she threw into the words!) “grateful for your kindness. I am sure we have all enjoved it immensely. 'James, Mr. Barr's hat, please, and be sure he has all his cigarettes returned to him.” “Why, what's the matter?” asked Benny. “Oh, if they don’t want to hear me I don't care! I only came out to oblige, But before I go, must tell you that story. Now, there was a fellow—" “James!” said_Mrs. Jackson per- emptorily, “Mr. Barr's hat!” Benny picked up his samp! of “Aunt Jane's Cook Boo tucked it under his arm. “Here's where 1 get off,” he said, and turned to the door. James stood with his head held extremely stiff “and high. He opened the door silent- lly and stood back while Benny passed out. *“So long, Algernon Au- gustus.” sald Eenny pleasantly, and he walked down the steps whistling. * % X X H ALF way down the block he met his arms caught over the pickets. and Jack, leaning against a fence, with 9, 1921—PART 4. ow did you make out?” asked Jack. e “She hates ine!” said Benny. Ana how ald me worse than poison. you? “Well, I had to struggle with him,” sald Jack, grinning. “I had to shake a finger at him and say ‘Naughty, naughty!? before he would believe hé had made 2 mistake of & week in the date. He's coming out next Thurs- sald Benny, opening y of “Aunt Jane's Cook f the best cook books The price is only $2 a a; “Now this,” his sample cop: Book,"” is one o led. square myself?” he ask ‘We spoke of twen! ‘Twenty it is then,” Benny shook his head. “Make it on he said. “A man ought to put in some time helping a pair like you and Eleanor—excuse my using her front name, it's the only one I know. Make it one copy. I never sold many of those smart s people anyway. I'm glad to help out So Benny went on down the street. He had time to sell a few more coples of “Aunt Jane's Cook Book” before dinner. Jack, as was natural enough, went back to Mrs. Willoughby Jack- son’s, and her reception, before she suggested that Eleanor might be found at the tea table, was quite warm and welcoming. “But, my dear,” Eleanor's mother wrote a few days later to Mrs. Wil- loughby Jackson, “you are quite wrong. You have harbored an im- poster. Dear Reginald never reached your house. He was delayed and de- ceived. I beg of you to withhold your final decision until you have seen Reginald and have heard him read his beautiful poems.” Mrs. Jackson read the letter for the third time as she sat at her desk. Then she dipped her pen in her ink and wrote to her sister. “It may be as you say.” she wrote. “gbout Reginald never having reached my house. Be that as it may, Eleanor shall never marry your Reginald Barr with my approval. I have formed an unchangeable opinion of poets. The man who read at my house Thursday may not have been your precious Reginald, but he might have been, and that is enough for m And, that being the sort of wom: Mrs. Willoughby Jackson was, came about quite naturally that one of the wedding presents Jack Hollins gave his bride was a copy of “Aunt Jane's Cook Boo] (Copyright, 1921) said Benny. said Jack, but an \ Trials of a Scoutmaster BY VIN. HE recently printed statistics of the world-wide Scout and Cub movement for boys are bound to set even the ordi- nary boyless reader to thinking. The Scouts have come to stay,’for as soon as one batch puts on long trousers and gives away its Scout togs to its younger brothers, the new gen- eration is right there to carry on in all the intoxicating thrill of movelty. Few adults can look back on any- thing that resembled the satisfactory work and play of scoutcraft; there were a few Ernest Thompson-Seton Indians dancing about their camp- fires; there were a certain number of cadet corps, boys' brigades, boys' bands, boys’ camps and municipal clubs for the poor boys of the slums. Social settlements were a fad with a small slice of the well-to-do, and a not enormous clientele of the some- times amused and bamboozling poor. But there were not Boy Scouts of America until about eleven years ago. The writer happens to know some of the first official scouts who enrolled in the U. S. A. under their delightful_master, a young English- man, F. John Romanes, son of the Oxonian scientist, and now an army officer. Yesterday I was talking with an old friend who has done very well at the remarkably difficult task of run- ning the first and only scout troop in a midwest town of 1500 inhabitants, one of those places that seemingly has no water, no trees, no flowers and no anything, yet breeds strong and prosperous citizens, just the same. Said my friend in effect: “We have both Scouts and Wolf Cubs. The latter organization, for boys under the Scout age of twelve, is suc- cessful in England, but has never been a go in this country. Some of my Cubs are no larger than a cricket. Just before 1 lett for Washington one the of them called to me across street: “T couldn’t think of no good turn yesterday, but I done two today.’ “A larger Cub put this casuistical question: ‘If I go to the picture show tonight and tell my mother about it { when I get home, will that be a good turn? The same boy, not clear as to the meaning of the good turn, handed in written 1ist: n Saturday I sold papers. n Monday I took a bath. “‘On Sunday I went to Sunday school. *‘On Thursday I stade at home and helped my mother wash. n Friday I went to school. “‘On Wednesday I went to town for one of my nabors.’ “My nabors” is an expression more commendable than ‘our nabors.” “Here is the hurry-up notation of a fourteen-year-old Scout: ‘I _have shoveled lot of snow this week and took care of my kid brother ‘for a while. % & “Another boy of the same age put down some ‘unintentional free verse that any editor would accept: “‘Kind deéds. “T ghowed a lady how to start her car. got one of our neighbor's milk. ‘I got the other neighbor’s mail. “‘I took Mr. Cyprian (a man just out of hospital) over to town in our car. “<I got our neighbor’s coal, she of- fered me some money, but I did not take any money.’ “A larger boy wrote to me: ‘On the way home I found a black hand- bag and there was quite a little money in it. T returned it and re- ;:eived no pay for it. This is my good urn.’ “From a twelve-year-old: “*Monday, watered a thirsty horse and cow; Tuesday, fed hungry chick- ens; Wednesday, helped a man un- hitch and water a team of horses; Thursday, fed a hungry cplt and curried it; Friday, helped a boy get a play turtle which some one larger thgn he had took. This is a picture of the turtl Another, also fed a stray kitten. % “One of the largest Scouts told me that he had laced mother's shoes.’ As the mother in gquestion a distinct tendency toward embonpoint, the turn was good. “Amagnificent-looking youngster recorded: ‘Took a rock out road. Stopped a fight.""” * X X X PROF. KITTREDGE of Harvard, who used to talk about “words and their ways in English speech " would be interested in this spelling of Scout law adjectives: “A scout is * * * thirty ¢ * ¢ revent * * * obentent. After all, spelling is a more or less colorless medivm. For a younger boy to chronicle, “T help make the bed every night’” shows patience and industry in the face of a household tendency to delay the morning tidying-up. Knot-tying has_a most depressing effect upon me. Nine different knots must be tied by the boy who passes his first, or tenderfoot, degree. I hate knots, whether they are in boards er fishing tackle. 1 would rather chop wood or bring coal from the cellar than tie knots. Yet most boys like Cubs are required of the bends and spliees. “HIS GOOD WORK FOR ONE DAY HAD BEEN TO LACE MOTHER’S SHOES.” _— (according to our local adaptation of the English rules) to tie only three knots. Recently a cub asked, “Will it be all right if I tie a four-in-hand in my necktie?” Another cub proudly showed the scoutmaster the correct knot to ar- range for the hanging of a criminal. “How in the world did you learn that?” was inquired. “Oh, my faiher teached me. knows almost everything.” There are times when the scoutmas- ter wishes that boys were not barom- eters. On some nights, with no ap- parent reason, everything goes off like a copy of the English “Boys’ Own Paper.” At other meetings, a diabolical restlessness is noticeable, even in the model troopers of high degree. The gavel and the impera- tive have to be employed in order that master may maintain his amus- ing reputation for being the only man in town who can make a bunch of boys behave. How different is a boy alone from a boy with other boys! The little Dr. Jekyll of church or the school-oom may be the little Mr. Hyde of the home, or vice versa. He A Vanishing River. NE of the most remarkable rivers in the world flows through the northern part of Mexico. It borders the great Mexican desert and to reach it one need travel only one day’s jour- ney on horseback from the Rio Grande, boundary of the United States in that region. The extraordinary river in question has its source in the hills bordering the desert. It flows south- ward for some twenty miles as smoothly as any well behaved river, but, suddenly, as it flows Dbetween high bluffs, it becomes whirling rapids—rapids so strong and so dan- gerous that no man has ever been brave enough to attempt ‘to cross the rushing waters. One follows the rapids, as he walks along the bluff on efther side, for about two miles, and then that river vanishes utterly. Hence the name Vanishing river. It disappears sud- denly, mysteriosuly, completely, into the earth itself, and not into a cave, as one would suppose. Sclentists have tried In vain to ascertain where that river goes; all that they have yet an- nounced as the result of their ex- plorations is that the river seems to drop sheer into the earth, as over the brink of a bottomless abyss, and that this Vanishing river is the most amazing body of water known to geographers. Yolk Pigment. is reported that a chemist abroad has succeeded in isolating the yel- low pigment of the yolk of egg in a crystalline state, and finds that it is closely related to the xanthophyl of leaves. This is regarded as an im- portant scientific discovery. To ex- tract four grams of crude pigment the investigator employed the yolks of no less than 6,000 eggs. The crys- tallized pigment is known as lutein. | The Shepherd-Washington which marks the southern| Elm. HE Shepherd-Washington Elm is in the northeast corner of the Botanic Garden, just east of the Crittenden Oak. ‘When an old tree planted by George Washington had to be cut to make room for enlarging the Capitol, Su- perintendent Wm. R. Smith of the Botanic Garden wa3 successful in growing from it several scions. One of these was. planted by Senator Beck and another, Mr. Smith planted, in honor of Alexander Robie Shep- more than any other man, ble for Washington as the ‘City Beautiful.” dy, an overgrown town, Or T group of villages connected by strag- gling, hilly roads, without pavements or good sidewalks. Washington was Alexander Shepherd's home town. He had lived here year in and year out, and had become thoroughly out of gress treated every problem of city betterment. He had long contended that Washington, as the capital of the United States, was raised im- measurably above every other city in the land. He argued that Congress should be generous in providing its improvement and adornment. Through President Grants friend- ship, Shepherd was influential in in- augurating a new form of govern- ment in which a board of public works held important place. Shepherd himself was appointed chairman, and he began the boldest kind of expendi- ture. His first act was to secure a District bond issue for $6,000,000 pro- viding for a grand scheme of im- provements. In three years, under his dictatorial rule, 207 miles of smooth sidewalks were laid and 118 miles of asphalt roadway were con- structed. Shepherd planted 10,000 new shade irces and mapped out new parks by the score. From chairman of the board of public works he be- come governor. With a feverish en- ergy Governor Shepherd worked gnd Wrought a miracle in the changed &p- pearance of Washington. The cost was tremendous. The tax- payers from one end of the country o the other arose in their wrat] They were enraged. The storm broke of Columbia $21,000.000 in debt. Yet the work was done, and well done. crowded in a brief three. OHN L. BAER, acting curator of archeology in place of Neil M. Judd, has left his cheery office on the third floor of the Na- tional Museum to visit a prehistoric Indian workshop on the Island of Peach Blossom, near Delta, Pa. For a number of yvears Mr. Baer has made a special study of Indian banner stones. He has picked them up in fields, on the shores of lakes and rivers, by huge ledges—in fact, wherever ancient Indian tribes made their dwellings. No one knows, not even present In- dian tribes, what was the particular JOHN L. B. Pennsylvania. (Bachrach photo.) blems that were so carefully and pa- polishing. quartzite, sandstone, chalcedony. granite and them resemble butterflies, some are shaped like crescents, a large num- ber remind one of double-edged axes. ‘Whatever the size or shape, the cen- ter of all the finished stones is thick- er than the edges and has a hole ex- THE SHEPHERD-WASHINGTON ELM. It is hard to imagine Washington patience with the way in which Con-j or Governor Shepherd left the District The neglected work of seventy years Shepherd's plans for making ‘Wash- Scientist Makes a Trip to Study Indian Stone Wor AER, ‘Who has gone to study the amelent banner ntomes of the Indians of significance of these remarkable em- tlently carved out of larger stones by the tedious process of pecking and In their special case on the second floor of the museum, one finds them made in many integesting | the fur protrude a little, he pour: shapes, and of plain banded slate, of greenstone, Some of{ thickness. ington attractive have ripened matured. Washington grows beautiful every year, and we back with gratitude to Alexander bie Shepherd who, in spite of position, criticism and calumny, the boldness, energy and fearless to lead the way. Such was the man and such the. complishments in honor of which yvoung elm was planted and yet, the early summer of this year, 1 the Shepherd Elm was apparentl| lost tree. It had been moved, where to no one in all Washing seemed to know. When the Grant monument was| cated by the east gate of the Bot Garden in 1908, a number of ha some trees planted by distinguis people had to be sacrificed. Many jected to having any of the tf cut; they objected so strenuously d a public hearing was called which sulted in a decision to move three trees considered most im tant. The trees moved were the tenden Oak. the Beck Elm and Shepherd Eim. Everybody knew where the | tenden Oak was placed. It was first tree moved and crowds watg its progress. The Beck Elm w ! the south side of the garden and Tt never came to life after it moved. Evidently the Shepherd was the last tree moved, and by { time people had lost interest two months this summer, thiry vears after the tree was moved) seemed lost bevond recall. Mr. S and his assistant were both dead there was no record. At last the writer found a dener who sald he was working] the Botanic Garden when the were moved, but he didn't ki where the Shepherd Elm was. I im through the third degree: There were three trees moved Yes. “We know where the Critten know where the Beck t died.” We t. Te! “Well, there was a third tree. you know where the third tree s ‘Oh, ves. I know where that Tt's over here beside the Critten Oak.” We went over beside the Crity den Oak, and there was the sleng graceful young elm. which months before I had picked out & possible Shepherd El The § herd Elm was found! It was | Jonger a lost tree! Yet a few m| | vears and all knowledge of it wo have passed. What stronger Aar | ment do we need for marking trees? ISABEL SEWALL HUNTEH tending through horizontally, ag the implement were intended to fitted with a handle. Probably these banner stones w in use several thousand years Some scientific men have conten| that they typified the butterfly; sd they represented bird flig and others think they resemble tail of a whale, inasmuch as whale was considered a great p affording the savage an abund supply of food. The most commq accepted theory is that they were tirely emblematic, being used in ligious ceremonies, and, as their ng indicates, were carried on long dles, like banners or flags. The Eskimos have an elabo: ceremony connected with the wll hunt, in which they use symbolic vices of ivory, which are simila certain respects to some types of b ner stones. ‘When choosing material for tl stones the Indian appears to ] preferred bright, clear varieties well defined "bands, entirely diffe: specimens from those which he eled into utility tools, such as and pestles. Patient and long-q tinued pecking and rubbing bro out the artistic and fancy shaj while drilling the hole for the hai necessitated the greatest cautio prevent breaking the delicate wi particularly if he were fashionin “butterfly” or thin-winged variet emblem. The high polish on man the stones is an especial indicatio; the reverence in which they held by their makers. Few epecimens of these stones found west of the Mississippi ril but many of the eastern states represented in the museum collect] On-an island in the Susqueha river below Columbia, Pa., is a le| of slate to which the Indians wont -to resort for materials for banner stones of that vicinity, around this locality have been fof many relics of their labor. Whild is away Mr. Baer will also study dian heiroglyphics which have H discovered on rocks near Bald Fi Md., also on the Susquehanna rivel Skinless Furs. A Frenck chemist has Invented ingenious process for mal furs moth-proof. First, on a fram| a shallow pan, he stretches the with the fur up, and pours in eno water to cover it. He puts the in a refrigerating chamber, and k4 it there until the water is frq solid. Next, he takes out the d of ice and from the bottom saws layer that contains the skin. he melts the bottom of the cake is left, and when the lower end: a solution of rubber, layer by lal until the coating is of the requ) The coating flex ‘When the rest of the ice has mel] the fur is practically finished. inventor says that except for the that it §s proof against the attac insects, it is exactly like natural The skin is sold as leather.