Evening Star Newspaper, October 23, 1921, Page 66

re HE world has come to think of Scattergood Baines as an as- tute and perhaps tricky busi- ness man, or as the political despot of a state. Because thls is so it has overlooked or neglected many stories about the man much more in- dicative of character, and more fascl- nating of detail than those well known and often-repeated tales of his sagacity in trading or his readiness in out- witting a political enemy. Scattergood loved to meddle. Per- haps that is his dominant trait. He could see nothing moving in the com- munity about him and withhold his hand.” It would be difficult to find a pie in Coldriver which not marked by his thumb. So it came about that hen he became convinced that Grand- other Penny was unhappy because of various restrictions and _Inhibitions placed on her by her s=on, oods merchant, and by her daughter- -in-law, he determined to intervene. Scattergood was partial to old ladies, and this partiality can be traced to his earllest days in Coldriver. He loved white hair and wrinkled cheeks and eyes tnat had once been youthful and glowing, but were dulled and dimmed by watching the long procession of the years. Now he sat on the piazza of his hard- ware store, his shoes on the planking heside him, and is pudgy toes wrig- gling like the trained fingers of an cmi- nent pianist. It was a knotty prob- lem. An ordinary problem Scatter- good could soive with shors on feet, but let the matter take on eminent difficulty and his toes must be given freedom and elbow room, as one might say. Later in life his wife, Mandy, after he had married her, tried to cure him of this habit, which she considered vulgar, but at this point she failed signally. The facts about Grandmother Penny were not that she was consciously ill- treated. Her bodily comfort was seen to. She was well fed and reasonably clothed. and had a good bed in which to sleep. Where she was sinned against was in this: That her family looked upon her white hair and her wrinkles and arrived at the erroneous conclusion that her interest in life wa gone—in short, that she was content to cumber the earth and to wait for the long sleep. To them she was simply ©ne who tarries and is content. Scattergood looked into her sharp, old eyes, eycs that were capable of sud: den gleams of humor or flashes of an- ger, and he knew. He knew that death seemed as distant to Grandmother Pen- ny as it had scemed fifty years ago. He knew that her interest in life was as keen, her yearning to participate in the affairs of life as strong, as they had been when Grandfather Penny— now long gone to his reward—had driven his horse over the hills with one hand while he utilized the other arm for more important and delightful purposes. * ok x % GCATTERGOOD was remembering his own grandmother. He had known her as no other living soul had known her because she had been his boyhood intimate, his de fender, always his advocate, and be- cause the boyish love which he had given her had made his eves keen 1o perceive. He was regretting that in his thoughtless youth he had failed to accomplish more to make gladder his grandmother’'s few re- maining year: “I calc'late,” said Scattergood t himself—but_aloud—"that I'll kind of substitute Grandmother Penny for Grandma Baines—pervidin' Grandma Baines is fixed so's she kin see; more'n likely she’ll understand what Tm up to, and it'll tickle her—I'm goin' to up and borrow me a grand- mother. He wriggled his toes and consid- ered. What thing had his grand- mother most desired? “Independence was ‘what she craved,” he said, and considered the point. = “She didn't want to be be- holdin’ to folks. She wanted to be fixed so's she could do as she pleased. and_nobody to interfere. I calc'late if Grandma Baines 'd 'a’ been left alone sh'd 'a’ found her another hus- band and they'd 'a’ had a home of their own with all the fixin's. It wasn't so much doin' that grandma wanted, it was knowin’ she could do it she wanted to.” Scattergood's speclally reinforced chair creaked as he strained forward to pick up his shoepacs and draw them on. It required no small ex- ertion, and he straightened up, red of face and panting a trifle.’ He walked up the street, crossed the bridge and descended to the little room under the barber shop. where the checker or cribbage champion- ship of the state was decided daily. Two_ancient citizens were playing checl s, while a third stood over them. watching with that thrilled concentration with which the or- dinary person might watch an only son essaying to cro: iagara falls on a tight rope. Scattergood knew better than to interrupt the game, so he stood by until. by a breath- taking triple jump, Old Man Bogle sent his antagonist down to defeat. Then, and only then, {lid Scatter- good speak to the old gentleman who had been the spectator. Mornin’, Mr. Spackles,” he sald. Mornin’, Scattergood. See that last jump of Bogle’s? I swanny if ‘twan't about as clever a move as 1 see this vear “Mr. Spackles,” said Scattergood, “I come down here to find out could 1 ask you some advice. You bein’ experienced like you be, it ’'peared to me like you was the one man that could help me out.” “Um! grunted Mr. Spackles, his old blue eves widening with the distinction of the moment. “If T kin be of any service to you I calclate T'm willin. 'Tain’t often folks comes 10 me for advice any more, or any- thin' else, for that.matter. Guess they figger I'm too old to 'mount to * 5 a mite of a walk?” Who? Me? I'm_skittisher'n a colt this mornin. Bet T kin walk twenty mile 'fore sundown.” They moved toward the door, but there Mr. Spackles paused to look back grandly upon the checker players. “Sorry 1 can’t linger to watch you, boys,” he sald Ioftily, “but they's im- portant matters me and Scattergood got to discuss. Seems like he's feelin® the need of sound advice.” ‘When they were gone the checker players scrutinized each other, and then with one accord scrambled to the door and started out after Scattergood and Mr. Spackles. T swanny!” said Old Man Bogle. *“What d' you figger Scattergood wanted of that ol' coot?” demanded hin'. “eel like takin® ‘hazarded Old Man did hold Spackles y Hain’t he 'most as good a checker player as I be? What gits me, though, is how Scattergood come to pick him instid of me.” *Huh!" grunted Old Man Peterson, and they resumed their game. Scattergood walked along in silence for a few paces; then he regarded Mr. Spackles appraisingly. “Mr. Spackles,” said he deferentially, “T dunno when I come acrost a man that holds his years like you do. Mind if I ask_you jest how old you be?” ‘Sixty-six year,” said Spackles. “Wouldn't never 'a’ blieved it,’" mar- six, not with them clear eyes and them ruddy cheeks and the way you step |Ba! u ‘Calc’late to be nigh as good as I ever was, Scattergood. J'nts creak some, but what I got inside my head |1 it don’t never creak none to speak of.” ERE '(KWHAT I want to ask you, Mr. Spackles,” said Scattergood, “is it you calc’late a man that's got to be past sixty and a woman that's got to be past sixty has got any business hitchin® up and marryin’ each othe! “Um! Depends. I'd say ii depends. If the feller was perserved like I be, and the woman.was his equal in mind and body, I'd say they was no reason ag'in it—'ceptin’ it might be mone: “Ever think of marryin’ yourself, Mr. Spackles’ . “Figgered seme. Figgered some. But knowed they n't no use. Son an daughter wouldm't hear to it. Couldn’t pport a wife, nohow. Son and daugh- zzlc'lates to be mighty kind to me. Scattergood, and gives me dum near all I kin ask, but both of ’em says I got to the time of life where it hain't ‘becomin’ in 'em to allow me to work. “How much kin sich a couple as I been_talkin’ about live on?" “When I married forty-odd year ago I was gittin’ a dollar a day. Me'n' ma ‘we done fine and saved money. Livin's higher now. Calc'late it ‘u'd take nigh a dollar 'n’ a half to get on comfort- able. “Figger fifty dollars a month ’u'd do it? Think that 'w'd be enough?’ *“Scattergood, you listen here to me. I hain't never earned as much as fitty dollar & month reg'lar in my whole life —and 1 got consid'able pleasurq out of livin’, too." They had walked up_the street until {they were passing the Penny residence. i Grandmother Penny was sitting on the 1porch, knitting as usual. She looked ivery neat and dainty as she sat there {in her white lace cap and her lavender 1 dress. “Fine-lookin' old lady,” sald Scat- rgood. Mr. Spackles regarded Grandmother Penny and nodded with the air of connoisseur. “Dum‘d if she hain't He lifted his hat and yelled acros “Mornin’, Ellen.” replied Grand- mother Penny, and bobbed her head. “Won't you foiks stop and set? Sun's a-comin’ down powerful hot. “Don’t mind it we do,” said Scatter- good. He seated himself, and mopped | his brow. and fanned himself with his broad straw hat, whose flapping} brim was beginning to ravel about the edges. Presently he stood up. I _“Got to be movin’ along, Mis' Penny. Seems like I'm mighty busy off and on. But I dunno what I'd do without Mr. Spackles, here, to advise me oncal in @ while. the benefit mornin"." With inward good noticed how the old lady turned a pert, sharp look upon Mr. Spackle! regarding him with awakened inte est. To be considered a man of wis: dom by Scattergood Baines was a distinction in Cold River even in those days, and for a man actually to be { consulted and asked for advice by the ample hardware merchant was to 1ift him into an intellectual class to which few could aspire. “I hope he gin you good ad- vice, Scattergood,” said Grandmother Penny “Allus does, If ever you're lookin" for level-headedness and f'r a man { you kin depend on, jest send a_call for Mr. Spackles. G’by, ma'am. B'by, Mr. Spackles, and much ‘bleeged to He's jest been glvin' me of his thinkin' this you. Mr. Spackles was a little bewildered, for he had not the least idea upon had advised Scatter- of an acuteness not to pass by any of the advantage that acccrued from the situatio: He r plied, with lofty kindness, “Any tim you want for to consult with young man, jest come right ahead. When Scattergood was gone, Mr. Spackles turned to the old lady and waggled his head. llen, that there's a mighty prom- isin’ young man. Time's comin’ when he's a-goin’ to amount to suthin.' I’ a-calc'latin® on guidin® him all I kin. Penny, almost breathless at this new importance of Mr. Spackles, and Mr. Spackles basked in her admiration, and added to it by apochryphal nar- ratives of his relations with Scatter- & a good. * k ok % R a week Scattergood let matters rest. He was cantent, for more than once he saw Mr. Spackles’ fad- ed overalls and ragged hat on the Penny premises, and watched the old gentleman in animated conversation with Grandmother Penny, who seem- ed to be perter and brighter and handsomer than she had ever seemed before. On one such day Scattergood crossed the street and entered the gate. “Howdy, folks?" he said. “Wonder }if I can speak with Mr. Spackles without interferin'?" “Certainly you kin,” said Grand- mother Penny, cordiaily. “Got a important bankin’ mgtter over to the county seat. Mr. Spack- les, and I was wonderin’ if I could figger on your help?’ “To be sure you Kin, Scattergood. To be sure.” “Got to have brainy men over there day after tomorrow. B'jing! that's circus day, too. Didn't think of th: till this minnit. Wonder you'd drive my horse and buggy over and fix up a deal with the president of | the bank ‘Glad to 'bleege,” . Spackles. Circus day,” Scattergood repeated. een to a circus lately, Mis' Penny?" | ain't seen one for’ years. | “No?—Mr. Spackles, what be you thinkin’ of? To be sure. Why, you kin bundle this Mis' Penny into the buggy and take her along with you! Finish the business in no time, bein’ spry like you be, and then you and her kin take in the circus and the side show, and stay f'r the concert. How's_that?" Mr. Spackles was suddenly red and embarrassed, but Grandmother Penny beamed. “Why,” says she, “makes me feel like a youny girl ag’in. To be sure I'll go. Daughterll make a fuss. but I jest don't care if she does. I'm a'goin “That's the way to talk,” sald Scattergood. . Spackles'll be Iround f'r you bright and early. Now, if you kin spare him, I caic'late we got to talk business. When they were in the street Mr, Spackles chocked and caughed, and said with some vexation: “You went and got me in £r it that said the flattered time.’ “How so, Mr. Spackles? . Don't you :ar-‘;& to take Mis’ Penny to the cir- s “Cpurse I do, but circuses cost money. 1 hain’t got more'n a quarter to my name. 3 “H'm! Didn't cal'late I was askin' you to take a day of your time for nothin’, did you? F'r a trip like this here, with a lot hangin’ on to it, I'd say ten dollars was about the fittin’ pay. What say Mr. Spackles’ beaming face was an- swer enough. Grandmother Penny and Mr. Spack- les went to the circus in a more or less surreptitious manner. It was a wonderful day, a successful day, such a day as neither of them had expected ever to see again, and when they drove home through the moon- !lbght, across the mountains, their souls were no longer the souls of threescore and ten, but of two-score and one. “Great day, wa'n't it, Ellen?” said Mr. Spackles, softly. “Don’t call_to mind nothin' ap- proachin’ it, James." “You be powerful good comp-ny, Ellen.” “So be you, James." ] calclate to come and set with often,” said James, difidently. ‘Whenever the notion strikes you, James,” replied Grandmother Penny, and she blushed for the first time in a score of years. Two days later Pliny Pickett stop- ped to speak to Scattergood in front of the hardware store. Pliny supple- mented and amplified the weekly newspaper, and so was very useful to ines. “Hear tell OI' Man Spackles is sparkin’ Grandmother Penny,” Pliny d, with a grin. “Don’t figger noth- dren won't allow it.” “Won't allow it, eh? What's the reason? What business is't o theirn?” “Have to support 'em. The ol’ folks hain't got no money. Spackles’ got two-three hundred laid by for to bury him, and so's Grandmother Penny. Seems like folks allus lays by for the funeral, but that's every red cent they got. I hear tell Mi Penny's son has forbid Sprackle comin’ around the house.” This proved to be the fact, as Scat- tergood learned from no less an au- lho;llly than Mr. Spackles himself. “Feit ike strikin’ him right there'n” 1a1 hen, ald Mr. les, heatedly, ‘but I seen ‘twouldn’t do to abuse one 's _children.” “Um!” Was you and Grandmother Penny figgerin’ on hitchin’ up?” Scat- tergood asked. “] put the question,” said Mr. 11 come of it, though. Their chil- | f | country amonsg satisfaction Scatter-3 WHEN BANGS SAW SCATTERGOOD HE STOPPED AND WHISPERED A MOMENT TO HIS COMPANION, with the air of a youth of ‘and Ellen up and allowed she’d have me. 1_guess never come off now. Seems like I'll never be content ag’in, and Ellen's that downcast I shouldn't be & mite if she jest give up and passed ifficulty’ clt 8. Folks has got rich before. Maybe somethin’ like that'll happen to you.” “Have to happen mighty suddin, Scattergood, if it aims to do any good in_this world. “T've knowed men to invest a couple hundred dollars into some venture and come out at t'other end with thou- You got couple hundred, hain’t ;n ney, hain't it? Large- e llen and me both has—saved up to bury us.” “Um! Git_buried, anyhow. Law compels it. Doggone little pleasure spendin’ money fr your own coffin. More sensible to git some good out of it. I'm goin’ away to the city f'r a week or such a matter. When I come back we'll kind of thrash things out and see what's to be done. Mean- time, don’t..you aend Grandmother Penny up 7 . * k ok X ‘N this manner Scattergood planted the get-rich-quick idea in the head of Mr. Spackles, who communicated it to Grandmother Penny in the ocourse THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C, OCTOBER SCATTERGOOD BORROWS A GRAND . Dk WMt of a clandestine meeting. The old folks discussed it, and hope made it seem more and more plausible to them. Realizing the fewness of the days remaining to them, they were anxious to utilize every moment. It wag Grandmother Penny who was the daring spirit. She was for drawing their money out of the bank that very day and investing it somehow, somewhere, in the hope of seeing it come back to them a hundred-fold. Scattergood had neglected _to take into consideration Grandmother Penny’'s adventuresome spirit; he had also neglected to avall himself of the information that a gertain Mr. Bax- ter, registered frond Boston, was at the hotel, and that his business was selling shares of stock in a mine which did not exist to gullible folks who wanted to become wealthy with- out spending any labor in the process. He did a thriving business. It was Coldriver's first experience with this particular method of extracting money from the public, and it came to the front handsomely. Mr. Spackles got wind of the opportunity and told it to Grandmother Penny. She took charge of affairs, compelled her flance to go with her to the bank, where they withdrew their savings, and then sought for Mr. Baxter, who, in return for a bulk sum of some $500, sold them enough stock in the mine to paper the parlor. Also, he promised them enormous returns in an exceed- ingly brief space of time. Their profit on the transaction would, he 23, assured them, be not less than $10.000, {and might amount to double that sum. They departed in a state of extreme elation, and but for Mr. Spackles' con- servatism Grandmother Penny would have eloped with him then and there. “I'd like to, Ellen. I'd like to, mighty well, but "tain’t safe. Le's git the money fust. The minnit the money comes in, offt we mog to the parson. But ‘tain't safe yit. Jest hold your hosses.’ ‘When Scattergood returned and was visible again on the piazza of hi hardware store, it was not long be- fore the village financiera came to him boasting of thelr achievement. He, Scattergood, was not the only maa 1n town with the ability to make money. No, indeed, and for proof of it here were the stock certificates, purchased from a deluded young man for a few cents a share, when common sense told you they were worth many, many dollars. Scattergood listened to two or three without a word. Finally, he asked: “How many folks went into this here thing? “Sev'ral. Sev'ral. Near's I kin fig- ger, folks here bought nigh five thou- sand dollars wuth of stock off'n Bax- ter. Must 'a’ been fifty or sixty went into the deal.” “Dum fool. aid Bcattergood, with sudden wrath. “Has it got 50's I don’t dast to leave town without you folks messin’ things up? Can't I leave over- night and find things safe in the OTHER 1921-PART 4 HERDERY MURRAY. ‘WHO NODDED. morning? You hain't got the sense Gawd gave fleld mice—the whole kit and b'ilin' of you. Serves you dum well right, tryin’ to git somethin’ f'r nothi Now git_away fr'm here. You've been swin- , and it serves you doggone well right. Now git. It was one of the few times that Coldriver saw Scattergood in a rage. The rage convinced them. Scatter- good said they were swindled and he was in a rage. Therefore he must be right. of citizens with lowered heads and anxlous eyes gathered on street cor- ners and whispered and nodded to- ward Scattergood. who sat heavily on his piazza, speaking to nobody. It was Grandmother Penny who dared | accost him. She crept up to his place and said, tremulously: “Be you sure, Scattergood, about that feiler bein’ a swindler Scattergood looked down at her fiercely. Then his eyes softened and i leaned forward and scrutinized her ace. “Did you git into this mess, too, Grandmother Penny “Both me ‘n’ James,” she said. *You let on that folks got rich quick by investin’. Me 'n' James was powerful anxious to git money So's—so's we could git married on it. So we drawed out our money and—and invested it.” “Come here, Grandmother,” said Scattergood, and she stood just before his chair, her head coming very little BLIND CONGRESSMAN INTRODUCES BILL TO CONSIDER NEW UNIVERSAL CALENDAR EW Year day and no bright new calendars adorning the den, office or writing desk— what would Father Time do to time then? Can one imagine the convenience of never being compelled to consult the printed page to deter- mine whether July 4 falls on Wedne: day or Friday, and whether we can enjoy a long week end celebration on December 25, or merely eat the Christmas goose and run? Why does one have all this con- fusion of “thirty days hath September, April, June and November” with Au- gust immediately following July and January following December, each boasting thirty-one days, while we skimp February to only twenty-eight? And has it not seemed a cumbersome arrangement when one tried to reckon part of a year's interest on a sum of money, or fractional portion of an employe's wage whose stipend is paid | “by the month?” Such questions have been asked by thinking men for twenty-five years. In this age of efficiency and speed many have recognized that it would be possible to revise the Gregorian calendar, which has been in use since 1682, for twentieth century conveni- ence. * ¥ ¥ % BUT it remained for a blind con- gressman in Washington, Repre- sentative Thomas David Schall of Minnesota, to see that the period of world reconstruction was a suitable time for consideration of universal calendar reconstruction. To this end, a few months ago, he introduced a bill before the House of Representa- tives for an entirely new arral Tg. ment of time, to be styled the “llb- erty calendar. In lglte of his physical affliction, Mr. Schall a virile, energetic law- yer, who hi won his honors by re- markable ability and ambition. "Like the hero of a romance, he rose from a homeless, ragged little bootblack of twelve to the enviable distinction of first-prize winner in a state collegiate oratorical contest Minnesota at eighteen. For the past six years he has been a member of Congress, win- ning his election in 1920.by a major- ity of 40,000 votes. In expisining his ressons for intro- ducing so unprecedented a measure for the consideration of Congress, r. Schall says. “Four ‘am ago the first talk of re- vising the calendar began in our s group of men had never heard that such a proj tion been suggested abro: A year later a company of business men of Minnesota convened in Minneapolis and started a definite and systematic movement toward this end. They in- ted an association and elected a competent board of directors. They engaged experts to study different calendar arrangements. J. N. Barnes man who drew up the pres- proposed form. ‘After this, to_ their astonishment, -ed that France, Switse! Denmark, German Eng- had_been considering the im- calendar for some nature was flrllumem. ‘The_discu for several years, untll in 1914 a new and somewhat different bill was in- EPRESENTATIVE SCHALL of Minne- sota Says This Country Should Adopt the “Liberty Calendar,” With Thirteen Months of Twenty-eight Days Each—Extra Day at Be- ginning of the Year—Last Day of Each Week Would Be Sunday and the First Day of Each Month Would Be Monday—New Month to Be Known as “Vern," Signifying Spring. s troduced. Then came the war, and level’ylhfl'l! was upset for the time be- ng." * x x % THE arrangement of the months and days proposed for the new calendar is both simple and con- venient, entirely workable and un- derstandable. The 365 days would be divided into thirteen months of twenty-eight days each, the extra day coming at the beginning of the year. This would be called New Year day and would be a legal holiday. It would not be numbered or named as a day of the week. Beginning in 1925, every seventh year it would be ob- served as Sunda. % The next day would be Monday, January 1. The last day of each week Would be Sunday. Thus the first day of every month would be Monday an given date of any month would always fall on the same day of the week. The new month, socording to the plan of Mr. is to be inserted between February and March and was first called Liberty. Later it was sug- gested that this name might not be approved by foreign countries, so the name was changed to Vern, signify- ing spring. The additional day every fourth year is provided for just as at present, with the exception that it would be placed between June and July and made a holiday, called Leap Year day. In 1948 and each seventh year there- after, Leap Year d;y should be known as Leap Year Sunday. Section 1 of the bill states that al the beginning of the first day of the year A. D. 1922 the new calendar shall supersede the one in - present use. However, it can be begun on any year when the last day of the preceding year falls on Sunday. “This movement may not become an accomplished fact for several years” remarked Mr. Schall. “But it seems certain that if we can get a new calendar arrangement that will be suitable for all countries it will have universal acceptance. e’s first thought is t! the mew division would affect the dates of our customary holidays, but with the ex- ception of\the 30th of May, Memorial day, the usual dates can be retained. That anniversary is planned for the 13th of May, thus occurring at prac- tically the same time in the year as now, and slways on Saturday. Labor set for September 8. Another consideration of greatest importance to business transactions is the quarterly divisions of the year, which we recognize as the first days of January, April, July and Octobar. ‘With the new divisions into even months, this is ily adjusted by di- viding the year into four equal parts, S0 that beginning with the first day of January each quarter would com- mence with the Monday exactly thir- teen weeks after the previous quarter began. Probably no date in the year holds greater significance or is more diffi- cult to determine by any except high church men, or presents great- er variability from year to year, than Easter. By the bill before the House, Good Friday would fall on March 12, and Easter Sunday two days later on March 14, exactly fourteen weeks after the new year began. Most remarkable of all the innova- tions afforded by the new calendar proposition is the ease with which one could get through the year com- fortably without a calendar. The present calendar is the result of a gradual evolution from that de- vised by the ancient Romans, whose calculations were based upon their study of the planets and the sun. They had their three epochs in the month, the Calends, the Nones and the Ides, from which they counted backward to determine given dates. Julius Caesar, in revising this clumsy ‘method, ered that beginning with January, each alternate month should be composed of thirty-one days. Thus July, named in his honor, had one day more than August, which was named for Augustus. The latter hero. jeal- ous for his own distinction, added a day to August by transferring it from February, which, up to that time, had twenty-nine days. This produced three successive months, each con- taining thirty-one days, necessitating other changes to make earances better. And with slight alterations made by Pope Gregory XIII this old Roman calendar has been used by most countries for nearly 340 years. * k¥ ¥ OU’R own America can boast of & method of reckoning time which is considered by scientific men to have been the most correct of any adopted by primitive peopl The Mayan Indians of the penin- sula of Yucatan invented & remark- able system of heiroglyphic writing based on their astronomical observa- tions by which they recorded events, which was more correct than that of the Julian calendar and nearly as ac- curate as that of the present Gre- gorlan. They lived probably for sev- eral hundred years beginnini first of the Christian era. ey bullt cities of stone that denote @ of wealth aad splendor sur- at the |2, passing anything seen elsewhere in the new world. While we would not by any means consider reverting to the inconven- fent form of expressing time which satisfied these ancient natives of our own shores, yet they have set us a precedent in leading the world in a simple, correct, easily computed ar- ranfement of the year. To quote from Congressman Schall's speech before the House of Represen tatives: “We have replaced the old- time hand sickle with the modern self-binder, and it will be a sad re- flection on the intelligence of this age of telephones, wireless telegra- phy and airplanes if we shall not be able to substitute for this cumber- Some calendar of the ancients a mod- ern and convenient form. Harnessing a Volcano. IN Central Tuscany is a large elec- tric powerhouse that optains its Initial driving power from volcanic heat. In the nelghborhood are many cracks in the ground, from which powerful jets of very hot steam spout high into the air. Early experiments in using the steam for driving en- gines failed commercially, for the borax salts, sulphureted hydrogen and sulphuric acid in the steam, on account of the corrosive action, made necessary frequent repairs. The difficulty has been overcome by ap- lying the steam, not directly, but to :}gnlfer in place of fuel. So applied it produces steam in the boiler at a pressure of two atmospheres, which is then passed through a superheater and so to the steam turbine used for driving electric nerator: Prince Ginori-Conti, who financed the undertaking, has made three large A on that system. One of 3,000-kflowatt units has been at ‘work since January, 1916; the second since April of that year and the third start- ed not long _ago. So far these group: have worked very well and have been 2 great boon to the industries of Tus- cany, which have been under a great disadvantage owing to the scarcity and high price of cosl Since the Volcanic reglon extends for many square miles around Larderello thers is nothing to prevent the installa- tions from being increased until they i produce thousands of horsepower. Durability of Glass. IT does not seem remarkable to find inscriptions written ges ago still visible on the Tower of London or on the steeple of some cathedral. But one would hardly look on a fragile pane of glass in & common window for characters more than two cen- turles old. A notable case in point came to light in London not so long ago, in an old house where the notorious Jack Sheppard once lived 8s a carpenter’s apprentice. One of the windowpanes still bears an Inscription cut in it by a glazier's diamond, recording the namé and address of a man who pre- ceded Jack's maaier in that house. The inscription is: *John Woolley Brand, Painter and Glasier, h ., » That was nine years before the coming to the house of Jack lh?- pard and almost two hundred and fif- teen years ai The news spread, and knots|ma higher than his own as he sat there, big and ominous. 0, the skunk took your money, too. I hain't carin’ a whoop for them others. They got what ‘was comin’ to 'em, and I didn’t calc’~ But you By crimminy! , Grandmother, y u go off home and knit. I'll look into things. It's on your account, and not on theirs.” He shook his head flercely toward the town. “But I calc'late I'll have to get theirn back, too, And, Grandmother, you a'd James kin rest easy. Hain't sayin' no more. Jest wait, and don't worry, and don't say nothin’ to nobody. G'-bye, Gra mother Penny. G'-bye.” That evening Scattergood drove out ot Coldriver in his rickety buggy. No- body dared to speak to him, but, nev ertheless, he carried in his pocket a list of the town's investors in mining stock, together with the amounts of | their investments. He was not seen again for several days. Two days bater Scattergood ap- peared in the lobby of the Manesion House, in the county seat. He scru- tinized the register, and found. to his satisfaction, that a Mr. Bowman of Boston was occupying room 106. Mr. Bowman had signed the hotel register in Coldriver as Mr. Baxter, also of Boston. Scattergood seated himself in a chalr and lighted one of the ci- gars which made his presence 80 un- desirable in an inclosed space. He ap- peared to be taking a nap. Fifteen minutes after Scattergood be- gan to nod, Sam Bangs, a politician with some strength in the rural districts, came down the stairs in company with & young man of prepossessing appear- By Clarence Buddington Kelland ance, and clothing which did not strike the beholder as either too gaudy or too stylish. Indeed, the young man im- pressed the world as being a sober, conservative person, in whose judgment it would be well to place confidence. When Bangs saw Scattergood he stopped and whispered a moment to his companion, who nodded: They ap- proached Scattergood, and Bangs touched him on the shoulder. “Mr, Baines.” he said, “I want you should meet my friend, Mr. Bowman. Mr. Bowman's a broker. Been buyin’ some stocks offn him or calc'late to. 1 knowed you done consid'able investin’, 0 1 took the liberty.’” Scattergood looked drowsily at the young man. “Set,” he said. “Set and have a cigar. . THE young Mr. Bowman accepted the cigar, but, after a glance at it, thrust it into his mouth unlighted. The conversation begain with national poli- tics, swung to crops, and veered final- ly to the subject of investments. Mr. Bowman, backed in his statements by Mr. Bangs, spoke to Scattergood of a certain mine whose stock could be had for a song, but whose riches in min- eral, about to be reached by a certain shaft or drift or tunnel, were fabulous. Scattergood was interested. An &p- pointment was made for further dis- cussion. ‘The appointment was kept that even- ing. in the same lobby, and Mr. Bo man, while finding more than ordinary difficulty in convincing this fat count merchant, did, eventually succeed bringing him to a point of enthusiasm. s " sald Scattergoo o s ‘Calc’late a feller could make a killin'. I'm a-goin’ into it halr, hide and hoofs. Figger me fr not lese'n five thousand dollars’ wuth of it. Ought to make me fitty thousand if it makes a cent” ‘You're conservative, Mr. Baines, ‘Always calc'lated to be, Mr. Bow- He looked up as a middle-aged man with a drooping mustache ap- proached. “Howdy, John? 8till worl in’ fr the express company, be you>' “Calc’late to, Mr. Baines. Got charge of the local office. ‘Tain't all pleas- ure, neither. In a sight of trouble this minnit.” 1 want to know,” said Scattergood. got you in bad?”’ “One of the dummed gold shipments from the state bank. Hadn't ought to speak about it, ’cause the comp'ny’ bein’ awful secret. Hain't lettin’ it out. He glanced apprehensively at Mr. Bow- man. “Needn't to be afraid of Mr. Bowman, John. What's the story?" “Bank shippin’ bullion. Three chunks of it. Wuth fifty-odd thousand dollars. 1 know, ‘cause that's the comp'ny’s lia- bility wrote in black and white. Been s he said, after a brief pause. ‘Where?' ‘Out of my office, this mornin". Not a trace. Jest up and disappeared. De- tectives and all can’t run on to no clue. Might as well ‘a’ melted and run through a crack. Jest gone, and that's all anybody kin find.” “Mighty sorry to hear it, John. Hope you wasn't keerless, and' don't figger you Guess you won't be blamed when the facts comes out.” “If they ever do" "said John. XG'night, Mr. Baine: I'm mighty ‘oneasy in my mind. Scattergood turned the subject back at once to mining stocks. “You set me down for five thou- sand dollars. Don't let nobody elze have it. Got jest that sum comin’ due tomorrer. You and me'll drive over to git it, and you fetch them stock certificates along. Got ‘em in that little satchel you're always carryin'?” 3 “No,” smiled Mr. Bowman. my purt 1 take no chances on rol bers, like your express agent spoke of, I don't mind telling you that I e fifteen thousand dollars in that bag—and I intend to keep it there.” ‘Do tell!” exclaimed Scattergood. ‘“Wa-al, you know your business. Now, then, if you want to drive over six mile with me tomorrer, we'll git s that money and I'll take the stock.” “Good,” said Mr. Bowmai “An early start. Can I take a train from there? I'll be through here. I think." “To be sure,” sald Scattergood. *“Mighty funny thing about that gold, now wa'n’ it? Three bars. Wuth fifty thousand! _Mighty slick work—to spirit it off and nobody never find a trace.” Bowman, markable intellects. Good night, Mr. Baines. ‘See you early in the morning,” re- plied Bcattergood. After a breakfast, which Mr. Bow- man watched Scattergood dispose of with admiration and astonishment, the pair entered the old buggy and started across the hills. In addition to his small bag Mr. Bowman brought large suitcase containing his ap- | 3 parel, 80 1t wai rent he was leav- ing the county seat for good. The morning came off hot and humid Scattergood kept his eyes open for a spring, but it was not until they had driven some miles that an oppor- tunity to find water appeared. * % % X «CALCLATE we kin git » arink | ng way to say thanke there,” sald Scattergood, point-|Grandmother Penny. ing to a little shanty in a clearing by the roadside. He stopped his horse, and they alighted and knocked. There was no reply. Scattergood pushed open the door and then stepped back suddenly, for within were three individuals of disrepu- table appearance, and one of them regarded Scattergood over the leveled barrels of a shotgun. “Come right In and invited this individual, and Scattergood, fol lowed b( Mr. Bowman, entered. On a table of pine wood, unconcealed, lay three enormous bars of gold. Um!” said Scattergood, faintly, and leaned against the wall. “You would come rammin® i the gentleman with the sh *Now I calc’late you got to stay. Scattergood grinned amiably. “Val 1yble loaves of bread you got there,” he said. X " gaid the main, succintly. “Hain't no mines around here, be there?” “We hain’t sayin'. But that there gold come from a mine, all right— some time.’ “Calc’late you been robbin' a train in’,” said Scattergood, mild “Now don't git het up. “Tain" none of my business. robbin’ for a reg’lar livin'?” he asked, inno- cently. “fl.;’n:'c never done none before—-" bezan one of the men, but his com- 1y. ijoy you kin out of livi: panion directed him to “sl Pasics o hut up an “No harm talkin® I kin see. W] B0t there fellers here, and here the; stay till we git clean off. Kind o like to tell somebody the joke.” 'm doggone Int'rested,” said Bcat] tergood. The rough individual with laughed loudly. *Ma; o % you,” he sald, raucously. the boys was in town yestiddy calc'latin’ to ship some ferns by ex press. Went into the office. Agen wa'n't there. Safe was. Open. wide open. We seen three golq chunks inside and nobody around watchin’. Looked full better'n fern S0 we jest took a notion to carr: em out to the wagin and driv off. Now we got it. I'm dummed if T know what to do with it. Hea tell it's wuth $50,000. Mr. Bowman spoke. *“You'll find i mighty hard to dispose of.” “Don’t need to worry you.” ‘Suppose you could sell it for fair price, cash, and get away wit] the money? “That's our aim.” “Mr. Baines said Mr. Bowman “there's money in this if you arem’ too particular.” “Hain't p'ticlar a-tall. mean “What would you say to buyin, this gold—at a reasonable price, can dispose of it—through channel I am acquainted with. You can pu in the money we were going for and T'll put in some more. Ought show a handsome profit.” 'Might nigh double my maybe, e Figger that? twict as much to buy stock Yes, indced Let's dicker. What will you men take away and leave that gold?” orty thousand.” ddlesticks' I'll give you ten—an you're clear of the whole mess.” There was a wrangle. For half a hour the dicker went on, and finall: a price of $15,000 was agreed upon Mr. Bowman was to pay over th money, and Scattergood was to con tribute his $5,000 as soon as the it—for one-third of the profitel The money was paid over; th three robbers disappeared with alac rity, leaving Scattergood and Bow man with the stolen gold. “We can take it along in the buggyy covered with ferns” sald Bowman, *“Nobod; i e tergood. boldly. “Lug her out.” So they carried the gold to th buggy, covered it snugly with fern and drove toward the next town, Scattergood talking excitedly of profits_and of how much mining] stock he could purchase with thd money received, and of ample wealt from the transaction. Mr. Bowmai smiled with the faint, quiet smile of one whose soul is at peace. Just before they got to town Bcattergood suggested that they stop to maka sure the gold was completely con cealed. They drove into the woods a fe rods and uncovered the treasure Scattergood gloated over it. “I've heard tell you kin cut real g01d like cheese” he said, and opened his jackknife. With it he hacked off a shaving and heid it up to the light. Is all _gold this here wi ha asked. “Don’t look to me to be the same color all the way through Looks like silver or suthin’ inside.” Mr. Bowman snatched the shaving. scrutinized it and uttered language in a loud voice. He snatched Scat tergood's knife and tested all How yo said Scat he said, savagely. ing but lead! We've been swindled “You mean it hain't gold a-tall “It's lead. I tell you.” *] wvum! Them fellers stole lead And they got off with all your money. Gosh! I'm glad I didn't have non along.” His eyes were mirthless and} his face vacuous “Beats all. Neve: heard tell of nothin' sim'la * x % % THE? got into the buggy and drove silently into town. Mr. Bowman| tried to recover his spirits, but the: were at low ebb. He did manage tof hint that Scattergood should stand his share of the loss, but in his hea he knew that to be vain. Still, he| could get that five thousand dollars| for the mining stock. It would b five thousand dollars. ‘Anyhow.,” he said, “you're fortu-| nate. You still can buy the stock and| make your pile. “This here deal.” said Scattergood.| “has kind of made me figger. "Taint] safe to buy gold chunks till you know they're gold. Likewise ‘tain't safe to buy mine stock till you know there’s a mine. Calclate I'll do & mite of investigatin' 'fore I pungle over that five thousand. Where kin 1 leave you, Mr. Bowman' I'm calclatin’ to drive home from here. Maybe I'll gec you later. But I got to investigate. Mr. Bowman made himself unpleas- ant for a brief time, but Scattergood stubborn. Presently leaving Mr. Bowman on the veranda of the hotel, scowl- ing and uttering words of strength and meaning. Mr. Bowman was very unhappy. Scattergood drove as rapidly as his horse could travel, arriving at Cold- river just after the supper hour. He went directly to his store, which had been left in charge of Mr. Spackles. Three men were waiting there for him. They handed him a leather bag and he satisfied himself that it con- tained $15,000. ‘Much 'bleeged, boys.” he 1d. o as much f'r you some day. G’ 8 Mr. Spackles,” he said, “kin you fetch Grandmother Penny over here, right now?" “Calc’late I kin,” said Mr. Spack- les, and he proved himself able to keep his word. “Grandmother Penny.” said Scatter- good, when she arrives ‘you and Mr. Spackles up and made a investment. [ been a-lookin’ after that investment {'r you—and f'r these other éum fools in town. Best I could do f'r them others was to git their money back—every cent of it. But I took keer to do a mite more f'r you and Mr. Spackles. 1 got your 500 f'r you—and then I =een a way to git 10,000 more. Here C i 1 don't guess there’'s an money could be put 1o nt way this here better use.” F'r us? Ten thousand—" ‘Il handle it f'r you. Give you int'rest of 600 a year. You kin marrv like you planaed, and if your chil- dren objects you kin tell ‘em to go to blazes. You'll want a place to live. va-al, I got twenty acre back of tcwn and a leetle house and furniture Took it on a deal. You kin move in and work it on shares. Ought to Dbe able to live blamed well.” Grandmother Penr.' was crying. “You done all this 't us, I'T James and me? There hain't no reason 'r it. 'Tain't b'lievable. There haln't “I hain’t wantin’ you to say thankes, Jest mog along| and marry this old coot, and git what n Mr. Spackels was inquisitive in ad- dition to being grateful. ‘Wh: want to know, “is how you managed it? said Scattergood, “jest made| use of the sayin' about curin’ with the halr of the dog that bit you. Fig- gered a swindler wouldn't never sus- pect nobody of swindlin' him with one of his own tricks. This here Mr. Baxter, or Mr. Bowman, or whatever his name is, used to make a livin’ sell- in' gold bricks. When I found that there fact out I jest calc’lated he wa: ripe to do & mite of gold-brick buyin’ himself. Which he done. enny, “I'm a- P tergood presented hia cheek and Grandmother Penny threw her arms around his neck and pressed 1ips| o his weather-beaten face. He smil ed, but as if he were smiling at some- body not present. When they had] gone their way to find marriage 1 cense and parson he went out on o his plazza and looked up st the moon- 1it_sky. “Gn{-dmn Baines,” he sald, after moment, you kin see down from where you be, T hope you hain't miss-| in’ that I done s f'r you. I wi pertendin’ all the time that you Wi Grandmother Penny.” 81, Metropstitan (Copyrisht, -