Evening Star Newspaper, April 21, 1929, Page 88

SR "''HE . SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON,” D. 0 In the Matter of Good Intentions, Freddie Yielded to No One, and This Was His Great Opportunity. By P. G. Wodehouse Hon. Freddie Threepwood, married to the charming daugh- ter of Donaldson's Dog-Biscuits of Long Island City and sent home by his father-in-law to stimulate the sale of the firm's prod- uets, naturally thought right away of his Aunt Georgiana. There was a woman who literally ate dog-biscuits She owned four Pekes, two Poms, a Yorkshire terrier, three Sealyhams and a Borzoi; and, if that didn't con- stitute a promising market for Donald- son’s Dog-Joy, Freddie would like to know what did. A day or so after his arrival, accord- ingly, he hastened round to Upper Brook street to make a sales talk; and it was as he was coming rather pensively out of the house at the conclusion of the interview that he ran into old Beefy Bingham, who had been up at Oxford with him. Several years had passed since the other, then a third-year Blood and ‘Trial Eights man, had bicycled along tow-paths, saying rude things through a megaphone about Freddie's stomach, but he recognized him instantly. “Beefers!” cried Freddie, his slight gloom vanishing in the pleasure of this happy reunion. Rupert Bingham returned his greeting with cordiality, but without exuberance. He, too, seemed gloomy. “Oh, hullo, Freddie,” he said, and his volce was that of a man with a secret sorrow. “I haven*, seen you for years. ‘What were you d/dng in that house?” “Trying to sell &y aunt dog-biscuits.” “I didn't kno® Lady Alcester was your aunt.” “Didn't you, Beefers, old man?” I thought it was all over London.” “I suppose she told you about me, then?” “What_about you?” Freddie stared. “Great Scott! Are you the impover- ished bloke who wants to marry Ger- trude?” “Yes. And now they've gone and sent her off to Rlandings, to be out of my way. I tiught of calling on your aunt and tying to reason with her.” Freddie took his old friend’s arm sympathetitally and drew him away. “No earthly good, old man. If a woman won't buy Dog-Joy, it means she has some sort of mental kink and it’s no use trying to reason with her. We must think of some other proce- dure. So Gertrude is a Blandings, is she? She would be. The family seem to look on the place as a sort of bas- tile. Whenever the young of the species make a floater, like falling in love with the wrong man, they are always shot off to Blandings to recover. The uv'nor has often complained about it tterly. Now, let me think.” ‘They passed into Park street. “I've got it,” Freddie said at length. “And {t's a dashed good thing for you, my lad, that I went last night to see that super-film ‘Young Hearts Adrift.” Beefers, old man, you're legging it straight down to Blandings.” “What!” “By the first train after lunch. I've gt the whole thing planned out. In oung Hearts Adrift’ a poor but de- gerving young man was in love with the daughter of rich and haughty parents and they took her away to the country, 8o that she could forget, and a few days later a mysterious stranger turned up at the place and ingratiated himself with the parents and said he wanted to marry their daughter, and they gave their consent, and the wedding took place, and then he tore off his whiskers and it was Jim!" “Yes, but—" “Don't argue. The thing’s settled. My aunt needs a sharp lesson. You would k a woman would be only too glad to put business in the way of her near- est and dearest, especially when shown samples and offered a fortnight's free trial. But no! She insists on sticking to Peterson’s Pup Food, a wholly inferior product—Ilacking, I happen to know, in many of the essential vitamins, and from now on, old boy, I am heart and soul in your case.” “Whiskers?” sald Rupert, doubtfully. “You won't have to wear any whiskers. My guv'nor’s never seen you. Or has he?” “No, I've not met Lord Emsworth.” “Very well, then.” “But what good will it do me, in- gratiating myself, as you call it, with vyour father? He's only Gertrude’s uncle.” “What good? My dear chap, are you aware that the guv'nor owns the coun- tryside for miles around? He has all sorts of jobs up his sleeve and can dis- tribute them as he likes.” Rupert’s face cleared. “Preddie, there’s something in this.” “You can bet there's something in it, old chap,” said Freddie. “But how can I ingratiate myself with your father?” “Perfectly easy. Cluster around him. Hang on his every word. Interest your- self in his pursuits. Do him little serv- ices! Help him out of chairs. . . . Why, great Scott, I'd undertake to in- gratiate myself with a man-eating tiger if I gave my mind to it. Pop off and pack the old tooth-brush and I'll go and get the guv'nor on the 'phone.” =% K ‘AT about the time this conversation was taking place in London Clar- ence, ninth Earl of Emsworth, sat brooding in the library of Blandings Castle. Fate, usually indulgent to this dreamy peer, had suddenly turned nasty and smitten him a grievous blow beneath the belt. ‘Without wishing to be pessimistic, he was dashed if he saw how a country containing men like Sir Gregory Par- sloe-Parsioe of Matchingham Hall could hope to survive, Consider the facts. When, shortly after the triumph of Lord Emsworth's pre-eminent Empress in the Fat Pig class at the eighty- seventh annual Shropshire agricultural | show, George Cyril, his lordship’s pig man, had expressed a desire to hand in his portfolio and seek employment elsewhere, the amiable peer put the thing down to his roving spirit. But when, not a week later, word was brought to Lord Emsworth that, so far from having migrated to Sussex or Nor- folk or Kent or somewhere, the fellow was actually just around the corner the neighboring village of Much Match- ingham, serving under the banner of Sir Gregory Parsloe-Parsioe of Match- gest that all was not well. “Hullo, v'nor.” ‘ “Well, Frederick?” “How's everything at Blandings?” Lord Emsworth was not the man to exhibit the vultures gnawing at his sheart to a blabber like the Honorable Freddie. He replied, though it hurt him to do so, that everything was excellent. “Good oh!” said Freddie. “Is the old cosshouse full up at the moment?™ “If,” replied his lordship, “you are alluding to- Blandings Castle, there- is nobody at present staying here, except myself and Gertrude, “Why?” he add- ed, in quick alarm. “Were you think- ing of coming down?” “Oh, no,” cried his son, with equal horrer. “I mean to say, I'd love to, but just now I'm too busy with Dog-Joy.” “Who is Popjoy?” “Popjoy? Popjoy? Oh—ah, yes. He's a pal of mine and, as you've plenty of room, I want you to put him up for a bit. Nice chap. You'll like him. Right ho, then, I'll ship him off on the three- fifteen.” . Lord Emsworth had just recovered enough breath for the delivery of a blistering refusal to have any friend of Freddie’s within 50 miles of the place, when the other spoke again. “He'll be company for Gertrude.” And at these words a remarkable change came over Lord Emsworth. His face untwisted itself. The basilisk glare died out of his eyes. “Bless my soul! That's true,” he ex- claimed. “That's certainly true. So he will. The three-fifteen, did you say? I will send the car to Market Blandings to meet it.” “Company for Gertrude? A pleasing thought. Somebody to take Gertrude off +e+« THE NEXT THING HIS ANKLE him for appearing to find something outstandingly comic in the statement that the glass was going up. And when, springing to his feet at the entrance of Gertrude, the young men performed some complicated steps in conjunction with a table covered with china and photograph frames, he joined in the mirth that the feat pro- voked from Gertrude herself. Yes, amazing though it must seem, Gertrude, on seeing this young Popjoy, had burst into happy laughter. The gloom of the last two weeks appeared to be gone. She laughed. He laughed. ‘The young man laughed. They pro- ceeded down to dinner in. a gale of merriment, rather like a chorus of rev- elers exiting after a concerted num- ber in an old-fashioned comic opera. And at dinner the young man had spilt his soup, broken a wine glass and almost taken another spectacular toss when leaping up at the end of the meal to open the door. At which Ger- trude had laughed, and the young man had laughed, and his lordship had laughed—though not, perhaps, quite so heartily as the young folks, for that wine glass had been one of a set h) valued. However, weighing profit and loss as he sipped his port, Lord Emsworth con- sidered that the ledger worked out on the right side. True, he had taken into his home what appeared to be a half- witted acrobat; but then, any friend of Frederick was bound to be weak in the head, and, after all, the great thing was that Gertrude seemed to appreciate the newcomer’s society. In matters where shades of feeling are involved, it is not always easy for the historian to be as definite as he could wish. He wants to keep the record straight, and yet he cannot take any one particular moment of time, pin it down for the scrutiny of posterity and say, “This was the moment when Lord Emsworth, for the first time, found himself wishing that his guest would tumble out of an upper window and break his neck.” ‘To_his lordship it seemed that this had been from the beginning his con- stant day dream, but such was not the case. When, on the second morning of the other’s visit, the luncheon gong had found them chatting in the library end the young man, bounding up, had extended & hand like a ham and, plac- ing it beneath his host’s arm, gently helped him to rise, Lord Emsworth had been distinctly pleased by the courteous attention. But, when the fellow did the same thing day after day, night after night, every time he caught him sitting; when he offered him an arm to help him across floors; when he assisted him upstairs, along corridors, down paths, out of rooms and into raincoats; when he came galloping out of the house laden down with rugs, mufflers, hats and, on one occasion, a blasted respi- rator—why, then, Lord Emsworth re- belled. He was a tough old gentleman and, llke most tough old gentlemen, did not enjoy having his juniors look upon him as something pathetically helpless that crawled the earth waiting for the end. It had been bad enough when Ger- trude was being the little mother. This was infinitely worse. And then, on top of all this, there occurred the episode of the stepladder. The Hon. Freddie Threepwood, who had decided to run down and see how matters were developing, learned | the details of this rather unfortunate occurrence from Gertrude. She met him at Market Blandings station, and he could sce there was something on her mind. “Dont tell me the bln{e has sprung a ieak,” he said anxiously. Gertrude sighed. “Well, yes and no.” “What do you mean, yes and no? Properly worked, the thing can’t fail. Hrls',om Beefers been ingratiating him- self?” “Yes."” “Hanging on the guv'nor's every word? Intersting himself in his pur- suits? Doing him little services? And been ut it two weeks? Good heavens? By now the guy-nor should be looking on him as a prize pig. Why isn't he?” “I didn’t say he wasn’t. Till this afternoon I rather think he was. But, when that thing happened this after. noon, I'm afrald wasn't very pleased.” “What thing?” “That_stepladder business. It was like this. Rupert and I went for a walk after lunch and by the time I had persuaded him that he ought to go and find Uncle Clarence and ingratiate himself with him, Uncle Clarence had disappeared. So we hunted about for a long time, and at last we heard a snipping noise and found him miles away, standing on a stepladder, sort of pruning some kind of tree with a pair of shears. So Rupert said, ‘Oh, there you are!’ and Uncle Clarence said, ‘Yes, there he was’ and Rupert sald, ‘Ought you to tire yourself? Won't you let me do that for you'?” “The right note,” sald Freddie ap- provingly. “Assiduity. Zeal. Well?” “Well, Uncle Clarence said, ‘No, thank vyou'—hupert thinks it was ‘thank you' —and Rupert stood there for a bit, sort of talking, and then he suddenly re- membered and told Uncle Clarence that you had just phoned that you were col down, and I think Uncle Clar- ence must have got a touch of cramp, because he gave a groan and sort of quivered all over. This made the steps wobble, of course, 5o Rupert dashed for- ward to steady them, and he doesn't know how it happened, but they sud- denly seemed to sort of shut up like a pair of scissors, and the next thing we knew Uncle Clarence was sitting on i 12233~ N WE KNEW UNCLE CLARENCE WAS SITTIN G ON THE GRASS, NOT SEEMING TO LIKE IT MUCH. HE HAD HURT A BIT AND SHAKEN HIMSELF UP A BIT, AND ALTOGETHER HE WASN'T FEARFULLY SUNNY.” his hands occasionally was what he had been praying for, ever since his sister had dumped her down on him, * Kk ok ONE of the chief drawbacks to enter- taining in your home a girl who has been crossed in love is that she is extremely apt to go about the place do- ing good. All that life holds for her now is the opportunity of being kind to others, and she intends to be kind, if it chokes them. For two weeks Lord Emsworth's beau- tiful young niece had been moving to and fro through the cast:e with a drawn face, dolngecood right and left; and his lordship, being handiest, had had to bear the brunt of it. It was with the first real smile he had smiled that day that he came out of the telephone closet and found the object of his thoughts entering the hall in front of him. “Well, well, well, my dear,” he said cheerily. “And what have you been doing?” There was no answering smile on his niece’s face. Indeed, looking at her you could see that this was a girl who had forgotten how to smile. She sug- gested something symbolic. “I have been tidying your study, Uncle Clarence,” she replied listlessly. “It was in a dreadful mess.” Lord Emsworth winced as a man of set habits will who has been remiss enough to let a Little Mother get at his study while his back is turned, but he continued bravely on the cheerful note. “I have been talking to Frederick on the telephone.” “Yes?" Gertrude sighed, and a bleak wind seemed to blow through the hall. “Your tie's crooked, Uncle Clarence.” “I like it crooked,” said his lordship, backing. “I have a piece of news for you. A friend of Frederick's is coming down here tonight for a visit. His name, I understand, is Popjoy. So you will have some young soclety at last.” “I don’t want young soclety.” “Oh, come, my dear.” She looked at him thoughtfully with large, somber eyes. Another sigh escaped her. “It must be wonderful to be as old ;as you are, Uncle Clarence.” “Eh?” said his lordship, starting. “To feel that there is such a short, short step to the quiet tomb, to the in- effable peace of the grave. To me life scems to stretch out endlessly like a long, dusty desert. Twenty - three! That's all I am. Only 23. And all our family lived to 60.” “What do you mean, 60?” demanded ‘Wi | his lordship, with the warmth of a man ingham Hall, the scales fell from his! who would be that his next birthday. eyes. He realized that black treachery had been at work. George Cyril had sold himself for gold, and Sir Gregory Parsloe-Parsloe, hitherto looked upon as 2 high-minded friend and fellow justice of the , was in reality that lowest of cre: thing, & lurer away of other le’s pig men. pe::d there was nothing one could do about it. Monstrous! But true. So-deeply was Lord Emsworth occu- pled with the consideration of this palling state of affairs that it was when the knock upon the door was re- peated that it reached his conscious- ness. x “Come in.” he said hollowly. He hoped it was not Gertrude, his niece. A gloomy young Wmmn.m!;eJ m hardly stand Gertrude’s soc! 3 It was not Gertrude. It was Beach, the butler. “Mr. J wishes to speak to your lordship on the telephone.” An_additional layer of {nyneu fell over Lord Emsworth's spirit. It was his ;aflm&e that almost ;n{edwmmunl- ca from Freddie indicated trouble. But there was nothing in his son's voice as it floated over the wire to sug- “My poor father was 76 when he was killed in the hunting fleld. Uncle Rob- ert lived till nearly 90. My mother's | brother Alistair——" “Don't!” said the girl, with a little shudder. “Don’t! It makes it all seem s0 awful and hopeless.” Yes, that was Gertrude; and, in | Lord Emsworth's opinion, she needed | company. ‘The reactions of Lord Emsworth fl" joy, when he encountered for first time in the drawing room shortly before dinner, were in the beginning wholly favorable. His son's friend was an extraordin: powerful person with a genuous face about the color of the | inside of a salmon, and he a imm nervous. That, however, was in his favor. X * kK K |I'1' was, his lordship felt, a pleasant surprise to find in one of the young- er_generation so novel an emotion as diffidence. He condoned, therefore, the other's trick hysterically, the not irresistibly ludicrous one of mmhmus’nm He excused the grass, not seeming to like it much. He had ricked his ankle a bit and shaken himself up a bit, and altogether he wasn't fearfully sunny. Rupert may have lost ground a little.” Preddie pondered with knit brows. “It's such a pity it should have hap- Eemd. One of the county tax colléctors ere has just been told by the doctor that he's got to retire, If only Rupert could have had that, we could have got married. However, he’s bought Uncle Clarence some lotion.” Preddie started. “Lotlon?” “For his ankle.” o “He couldn’t have done better,” said Freddie warmly. “Apart from showing the contrite heart, he has given the gov'nor medicine and medicine to the gur'nor is what catnip is to the cat. Above all things, he dearly loves ama- teur doctoring.” * ok ok ok N predicting that Lord Emsworth would appreciate the gift of lotion, Freddie had spoken with an unerring knowledge of his father's character. The master of Blandings was one of those fluffy-minded old gentlemen who are happlest when experimenting with strange drugs. In a less censorious age he would have been a Borgia. It was not until he had retired to bed that he discovered the paper-wrapped bottle on the table by his side. Then he remem- bered that Popjoy had mumbled some- thing at dinner about buying him some- thing for his injured ankle. He exam- ined the contents of the bottle with satisfaction. The liquid was a dingy The name on the label—EBlake's His ankle had long since ceased to Enln him, and to some men this might ave seemed an argument against smearing it with balsam; but not to Lord Emsworth. He decanted a liberal dose into the palm of his hand. It had a strong, robust, bracing smell. He spent Will Coolidge Have a Real Job? Rogers Decides Wages Are Not High Enough for Ex-President—Miss Talley and Her Wealth Arrive Opportunely Among Farmers Whose Prob- lem Is Financial. BY WILL ROGERS. ELL all I know is just what I read In the papers, Texas Guinan has been so busy hugging and kissing every- body over her acquittal that the .old Town just cant seem to get organized again. She said she had no idea that drinks were served in her Night Club, and twelve jurymen agreed with her. President Coolidge surprised us all again by joining the Board of Directors of a big life Insurance Company. I had always sald you would never see him ooking up with any big Company, that it might be brought out against him in 32. But it seems like he is not to do much for this one. He only gets $50.00 when the Board meets, which is about once or twice a month, unless he calls it oftener. He certainly will not give much for that wage, So its really kinder hard to tell just what he is supposed to do. He is sup- to take Mr Herricks place on the ard. Well Mr Herrick was Ambassa- dor to France, so if he takes his place he evidentally wont be supposed to do much, I wish he had taken some real job where there was something to do and it would look like he was really doing something. Course if you can get into enough of these Companies at fifty bucks a gather- ing why it wouldent be bad employ- ment. You know these big Companies are having a hard time trying to get names on their list of Directors that Jook BIG. Its kinder like trying to find somebody to give a dinner to. There just aint many that look im- portant enough to be fed free. Funny thing, on the same day that Mr Coolidge signed up with the Insur- ance Co, why fellow committed suicide because couldent get rid of an Insurance Agent. hen it looked like they was going passing to{fo make the Curtis Family eat at m e nge popottion of the Tewards second Table Tom Heflin come to front of em. He forgot for the moment that Charley was a Republican, and he broke Democratic lent Dinner | hoist. something that made it look like they were doing something. He must be quite a fixer this Stimpson fellow. He got out of Nicaragua alive, lived through a Taft Cabinet, arrived in America two days ahead of a Phillipine Deligation looking for freedom. He seems to be quite a fellow. Well we had some more argument started here lately. The Leviathan Jeft here after being sold to private partieg and they decided they would peddle a littie Liquor on the way over to kinder help keep the Wolf from the Gang- piank. It seems they are allowed to have seven hundred Bottles of Medicinal Joy Juice in case some of the passengers dident drink water. Well then the howl commenced coming in, and now the poor fellow that bought the Boat may have to switch it and put it under the Nicaragua flag instead of ours. They are not supposed to sell till they get twelve miles out. You have to bring enough of your own to last that long. ‘When this gets to you Congress will be in session again helping the farmers, so if you have a farm dont sell it, for there is no telling what a farm will be worth when we find the amount of re- lief they are to get. Why they may have the Federal Reserve give as much to the Farmers as they do to the Stock Market. Now that Marion Talley the opera Singer is turned ulturist things look bright even without Congress. can see Marion winning all the Hog calling Contests around among her mortgaged neighbors. (Copyright, 1929.) MINING HEROES NAMED TH! heroism of the battlefield and the stormy wave; the fortitude of the pioneer of the frozen North; the courage of the airman making his perilous flights over seemingly endless stretches of water in a land plane or over rugged mountains where no air- ship could land in safety; the thrilling rescue by the fireman, the policeman’s battle to the death with the gangsters— all these have been sung by the poet or painted in glowing colors by the writers of romantic prose and fiction. Yet the spectacular feats which have been heralded far and wide are ranked alongside little daily incidents in which man gambles with his life that other (P men in danger live—acts of hero- ism even in the grimy, black depths of the coal and metal mines, where only a handful may know of these glorious deeds. That the Nation may be informed about these heretofore unsung heroes of the Nation’s great mineral industries, the Joseph A. Holmes Safety Associa- tion has established a series of medals and diplomas to be issued to recognize life-saving activities of the men who dig thlfihe rest of the land may be warm and that the hungry mouths of the smelting furnaces and the steel mills may be satisfied. The Joseph A. Holmes Safety Asso- ciation was named in honor of the first director of the United States Bureau of Mines, Department of Commerce, and works in close conjunction with the bureau. A meeting of the officials of the association was recently held here, at which medals and diplomas were awarded, to_a number of miners and mine officials. Many of the citations which accompanied the rewards contain all the plot that is needed for many a shriller. It might be added in went to Indians and Mexicans in the mines of Arizona. i An outstanding incident and one brought gold medals to an Indian, E. J. Belrn‘h, and Michael Marchello occurred at Teejon copper mine in Gleeson, Ariz. Bellah had the highly important post of hoistman. It is not every man who can turn a lever who can also run a It is & job that calls for much that requires, when the he | and on the vel easily to a stop just at the top of the shaf t. It is a ticklish job. It takes courage to speed a human cargo that way, know- ing that a mishap may mean disaster. You must know your stufl when you run a mine hoist. Such a hoistman was Bellah and, when it came to the pinch, Bellah rose to the occasion. But it was more than just running his hoist that Bellah went through on this particular day. A hundred gallons of lubricating ofl blazed near him as he carried on, and not ten feet from him an air compressor blew up, but Bellah never faltered. There were recious lives that hung on his courage, and, with the stoicism of the Indian of old, he went through the fire torture and came out a hero. Late on this day, May 6, 1928, all the men had left the mine but four, who were at work on the 200-foot level. Suddenly Bellah discovered a fire which had broken out in the hoist house. Hurrledly he summoned Marchello, who was nearby, and apprised him of the danger that threatened the four men down below. Bellah could not go to warn them. His duty was at the holst.| On him depended the rescue. Marchello, sizing up the situation, hesitated not a moment, but rushed into the cage, and Bellah dropped him 200 feet in a wink of an eye. Then Mar- chello showed the stuff of which he was made, Knowing that the only means of escape was up the shaft nndl aware of the fact that the hoise house was burning, he rushed through 1,000 feet of tunnel to carry the warning to the four at work all unmindful of the menace to their lives eating its way hungrily above toward the hoisting engine and its master. ‘While Marchello hurried through the mine gallery, a great line of fire was gradually encircling Bellah. The black- smith shop, the change house and the hoist house were all blazing, and in the middle of it stood Bellah, wondering why the five below did not give him the signal to raise the cage. When the headframe of the hoist caught fire it seemed that the end was almost at hand. ¢ The heat from the blazing oil near by was terrific. Under his hand the! lever that controlled the hoisting en-! gine scorched the skin and his arm and shoulder were terribly burned, yet he stayed by his post, nearly suffocated, of collapse. into the hell of fire on the surface. The rescued men dashed out and, with Bel- lah, made their way to safety just before the headframe, with a roar and a great cloud of smoke, collapsed and fell down into the shaft. It is not always, however, that the courage of the rescuer ends so happily. ‘Take the case of Zeno Daley, an Apache Indian, employed at the Magma Cop- per Co’s mine at Superior, Ariz. fire broke out in No. 2 shaft on No- vember 24, 1927, entrapping 49 men underground. Daley sought to go to their rescue. Frantic efforts to signal the men brought no response. Something had to be done, and Dale tried to the best of his ability to do it. He offered to go below, down into that column of smoke and fire, to see if any way remained to bring the 49 to the sur- face. His offer was accepted in des- paration, although it seemed hopeless. | He entered the cage and gave the signal to lower him. Poor Daley never came back. On the way down the cable parted, burn- ed to the point where it no longer could support the weight of the cage. At the boitom of the shaft Daley paid the supreme sacrifice. His heroism brought a posthumous award of a gold medal and his name is written on the rolls of heroes who gave their all. Less spectacular but illlt as muflie- ous was the attempt of John Stubble- fleld, David Keener and Louis Thomp- son to rescue Michale McCann, & fire boss at the Osage No. 5 coal mine in Krebs, Okla. A fire had been burn- ing for three days in the mine and McCann went in for an exploration to determine the extent of the damage and what steps should be taken to!} make the mine safe for the resumption : of work. McCann, however, had gone from the in lla) effects of the gases that filled the mine. ‘When he failed to return, the three, knowing their danger, went in to find the fire' boss, They found him and started out, but failed to make it and they, too, fell unconscious. Emile Du Pree, who already holds the gold medal for life saving, organized a second res- cue party and they, with a far less hazardous mana I|of his to bring ally the next five minutes thoroughly rub- bing it in. It is a trulsm to say that in the world as it is at present constituted, few things have more far-reaching conse- quences than the accident of birth. Lord Emsworth had probably suspected this. He was now to recelve direct proof. If he had been born a horse instead of the heir to an earldom that lotion would have been just right for him. It was for horses, though the Rev. Rupert Bingham had omitted to note the fact, that Blake had planned his balsam; and any one enjoying even a superficial acquaintance with horses and earls knows that the latter have the more sensitive skins. Waking at a quarter to 2 from dreams of being burned at the stake by red Indians, Lord Emsworth found himself suffering acute pain in the right leg. He was a little surprised. He had not supposed that that fall from the ladder had injured him so badly. However, being a good amateur doctor, he bore up bravely and took immediate steps to cope with the trouble. Having shaken the bottle till it foamed at the mouth, he rubbed in some more lotion. It oc- curred to him that the previous appli- cation might have been too sketchy, so this time he did it thoroughly. Then he tried to go to sleep. Nature has made some men quicker thinkers than others. Lord Emsworth's was one of those leisurely brains. It was not tiill nearly 4 o'clock that the truth came home to him. When it did, he was just on the point of applying a fifth coating of the balsam to his leg. He hobbled to the cold-water tap and put as much of himself under it as he could manage. The relief was perceptible, but transi- tory. At 5 he was out again, and once more at 5:30. At 5:45, succeeding in falling asleep, he enjoyed a slumber.i socmewhat disturbed by the intermittent | biting of sharks, which lasted till a few | minutes past 8. Then he woke as if an | alarm clock had rung. * ok k¥ Hz rose from his bed and peered out of the window. It was a beautiful | morning. . | Beyond the terrace, glittering through the trees, gleamed the waters of the| lake. They seemed to call to him likea bugle. Although he had neglected the | practice of late, there was nothing Lord Emsworth enjoyed more thsn a before- breakfast dip, and today anything in the nature of water had a particularly powerful appeal for him. The pain in his ankle had subsided by now to a dull throbbing, and it seemed to him that a swim might remove it altogether. Put- ting on a dressing-gown and slippers, he took his bathing suit and went down- stairs. Only when the pleasurable agony of the first plunge had passed and he was floating out in midwater did Lord Emsworth realize that in some extraor- dinary way he had overlooked what was beyond dispute the best thing that this perfect morning had to offer him. Gaz- ing from his bedroom window, he had observed the sun, the shadows, the birds, the trees and the insects, but he omitted to appreciate the fact that no- where in this magic world that stretched before him was there a trace young guest, Popjoy. For the first time in two weeks he appeared to be utterly alone. He kicked sportively in a spasm of pure happiness. But this, he felt, was not enough. It failed to express his full happiness. To the beatitude of this falden moment only music, that mystic language of the soul, really could do justice. The next moment, there had cut quiveringly into the Summer still- ness a sudden sharp wail that seemed to tell of & human being in distress. It was the voice of Lord Emsworth, raised in song. It was a gruesome sound, calculated to startle the stoutest. Rupert Bing- ham, standing behind the rhododen- dron bushes and wondering how long it would be before the girl he loved came to keep her tryst, started. violently, tore off his coat, rushed to the water's edge. Out in the middle of the lake, Lord A | Emsworth's transports continued un- diminished. His dancing feet kicked up & flurry of foam. His voice rose to a scream. “Love me,” sang Lord Emsworth, “and the wo-o0-o-rld is—ah—mi-yun!” “It's all right,” said a voice in his ear. “Keep cool. Keep quite cool.” There is a point beyond which the human brain loses its kinship with the Infinite and becomes a mere seething mass of deleterious passions. Malays, when pushed past this point, take down the old kris from its hook and go out jand start carving up the neighbors. ‘Women have hysterics. Earls, if Lord Emsworth may be taken as a sample, haul back their right fists and swing them as violently as their age and physique will permit. For two long weeks Lord Emsworth had been endur- ing this pestilential young man with outward nonchalance, but the strain had told. Suppressed emotions are llwnuys the most dangerous. Little by little, day by day, he had been slowly turn- ing into a human volcano, and this final outrage blew the lid off him. He raged with a sense of intolerable injury. Was it not enough that this porous plaster of & young man should dog his steps on shore? Must he even pursue him out into the waste of waters and come fooling about and pawing at him when he was enjoying the best swim he had had that Summer? In all their lnnf and honorable history no member of his ancient family ever so far had forgotten the sacred obligations of hospitility as to plug a guest in the eye. But, then, they never had had guests like - this. With a sharp, passionate snort, Lord Emsworth extra.ted his it hand from the foam, clenched it, drew it back and let it go. He could haye made no more impru- . o . LIFE SEEMS TO STRETCH' OUT ENDLESSLY, LIKE A LONG, DUSTY DESERT. TWENTY- THREE! THAT'S ALL I AM,.,,» stars came out; there was a sound of rushing waters; and he knew no morey * x % % Wm Lord Emsworth came to hime edul(, he ::d lnhbed.w Lmhu 16 seemed a very ce , he re= mained there. His EM ached abome inably, but he scarcely noticed this, sa occupied was he with the thoughts that surged inside it. He mused on young Popjoy, he meditated on Sir Gregory Parsloe-Parsloe, and wondered from time to time which he disitked the more, It was & problem almost too nice for human solution. Here, on the one hand, you had a man who pestered you for two weeks and wound up by nearly mur+ dering you as you bathed, but who did not steal pig men; there, on the other, one who stole pig men, but who stopped short of actual assault on the person, He had just remembered the lotion and was wondering if this might not be considered the deciding factor in this contest for the position of the world's premier blot, when the door opened and the Hon. Freddie Threepwood insine uated himself into the room. “I say, guv'nor.” “Well, Frederick?"” "NI;mw squeak, that, you know.” «Bah!” “Do you wish to thank your bravd preserver?” ]l.ord. Emsworth plucked at the cove erlet. “If that young man comes near me" he said, “I will not be answerable for the consequences.” “Eh?” Preddie stared. “Don't you like him?" “Like him? I think he is the most appalling young man I ever met.” 1 say, guv'nor.” “Well, Frede! ? “That’s all very well, you know, guv'nor,” said the Hon. Freddie, returne ing to draw moral support from the feel of the bed-rail, “but after what's hape pened it looks to me as if you were jolly well bound to lend your countenance to the union, if you know what I mean?"” “Union? ~What are you talking about?” “Why, Gertrude and old Beefers, of babay cous ‘Who is old Beefers?” “Oh, 1 forgot to tell you about that, This bird Popjoy’s name isn't Popjoy. It's Bingham. - Old Beefy Bingham, You know—the fellow Aunt Georgie doesl;;b want to marry Gertrude.” “Throw your mind back. They pushed her: off to Blandings to keep her out of his way. And I had the idea of sending him down here incog. to ine gratiate himself with you. The scheme being that, when you learned to love him, you would slip kim a job, thus enabling them to get married.”" * ok x % ORD EMSWORTH did not speak. It was not so much the shock of this revelation that kept him dumb as the astounding discovery that any man could really want to marry Gere trude and any girl this Popjoy. Like many a thinker before him, he was feeling that there is really no limit to the eccentricity of human tastes. The thing made his head swim. But when he had ceased swimming he perceived that this was but one aspect of the affair. Before him stood the man who had inflicted Popioy on him, and, with something of King Lear in his demeanor, Lord Emsworth rose slowly from the pillows. Words trembled on his lips, but he rejected them as not strong enough and sought in his mind for others. “You know, guv'nor,” proceeded Freddie, “there’s nothing to prevent you doing the square thing and linking two young hearts in the bonds of the love god, if you want to. I mean old Braithwaite, at Much Matchingham, has been ordered to retire by his doctor, so there’s a job that you've got to slip to_somebody.” Lord Emsworth sank back on the pillows. “Much Matchingham?™ “Oh, dash it, you must know Much Matchingham, guv'nor. Where old Pars- loe-Parsloe lives.” “Much Matchingham!"” Lord Emsworth was blinking, as if his eyes had seen a dazzling light. How wrong, he felt, how wickedly mistaken and lacking in faith he had been when he had said to himself in his folly that Providence offers no method of retalia« tion to the just whose pig men have been persuaded by humanity's dregs to leave their employment and seek ad- venced wages elsewhere. Conscience could not bring remorse to Sir Gregory Parsloe-Parsloe, and the law, in its im« perfect state, was Pow:flus to punish. But there was still a way. With this young man Popjoy—or Bingham—or whatever his name was, poking his nose into everything, would Sir Parsloe-Pars- loe ever draw another really free breath? From his brief, but sufficient, acquaint« ance with Popjoy—Lord Emsworth thought not. The punishment was se< vere, but who could say that Sir Greg= ory had not earned it? “A most admirable idea,” sald Lord Emsworth, cordially. “Certainly I will give your friend the job.” “You will?” “Most decidedly.” “At-a-boy, guvnor!” said Freddie, “Came the dawn!” (Copyright, 1929 Study Coal Origin. 'HE eternal question, “Why?” impels the Bureau of Mines to study the origin of coal. That all types, from lig~ nite to anthracite, came from plant matter that had been buried in the carboniferous age is, of course, well known. What the bureau wants to know is how it came to happen, and tests are being conducted at the ex- periment station in Pittsburgh. ‘The experiments seek to settle the relative importance of bacterial and chemical action; what wood constitu- ents remain in modified form to take part in subsequent stages of coal for- mation, and what wood constituents are completely used up. The tests have been along three lines ~ —wood rotted In air; rotted in air and submorged in water, and submerged while sound. . ¢