Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, June 4, 1904, Page 7

By wii eT Td | ‘A Woman reas OF Cratt express much, am I, ing to offer you everything, craving for @ little love and a little sympathy— oh! eedn’t look so startled; I’m only as! what I’m entitled to—and you have nothing to give me in ex- change. Raymond”’—she put out her hands suddenly towards him, with a pleading gesture—“you and I should have so much in common; we should be necessary to each other for another reason than that of money; have you still nothing to say to me?” “Won't it be better to wait a little?” he asked, slowly. d CHAPTER !IX.—(Continued.) ! Tt is not unlikely that a great many people are interested in a woman who has been advertised for all over the globe,” she replied. “Who is the man of whom you speak?” “Let me think; what was his name? ‘Ah—I remember; he calls himself Owen Jaggard. Queer name—queer fellow,” said Roger Hawley. “Very queer name; but it does not interest me,” she replied, coldly. “I never heard of the man, nor met him in my life.” | “I felt sure of that,” he said, with a smile. “verhaps he made a mistake between you and the other Miss Grace Warwood.” “Probably,” she replied, coldly. There was silence between them for a moment or two, while the man fidgeted with hig mustache and the woman beat a restless foot upon the carpet. The silence helped Roger Hawley in an unexpected way, for it drove the wom- an into a condition of frenzy. She turned suddenly upon him and flared out at him in a manner that might have fitted her old life, but certainly did not fit her new one. “Why are you plotting against me?” she demanded, fiercely. “I know what you’ve lost, and I know why you have every reason to hate me; but why are you meeting this man Jaggard in se- cret—and plotting with him against me—and finding out things about my past life from him?” “T thought you said you did not know him,” he answered, coolly. “{—of course I don’t know him,” she stammered. “Only he has been telling you things about me—I mean about Grace Yarwood—and you meet him at night.” “How do you know that?” he asked, as coolly as ever. “I don’t know it; but you told me yourself that you had seen the nan,” she retorted. “Let me warn you of this: that neither you nor anyone else ean do any good by casting doubts upon me or upon my life. I have es- tablished my claim as Grace Yarwood, and there is no disputing my position. Do you understand that?” For the first time an extraordinary suspicion leapt into the mind of Roger Hawley. What if, by any chance, this was the imposter, and the other—the fair-haired, blue eyed, innocent-looking the real Grace Yarwood? If this eyed vixen was so sure of her right, why should she fight so fiercely to defend what had, after all, not been threatened? Roger Hawley rather complimented himself in that moment on the fact that he had in a sense hedged a little and knew each Grace Yarwood, and could judge in a manner between them. It was obvious, too, that what Owen Jaggard had said was true, and that that gentleman did know the Grace Yarwood who was in pos- session. Roger Hawley determined that he would at least show this wom- an that he held a power over her; his next words were in the form of a veil- ed threat. “Tm sorry if I have troubled you at all, Miss Yarwood,” he said, courteous- ly. “I hope some day you will under- stand that I was working solely for your benefit. There’s no more to be said, of course, and my warning seems to have been a little superfluous. How- ever, as I don’t want a mischievous tale to get about, I’ll take care that the man Owen Jaggard is watched. I owe it as much to you as to my for- tunate brother that I should do that. T’ll keep an eye on the fellow myself; lll keep him-with me.” “Where?” she asked, quickly. “At the place where I am staying,” he replied, watching her. “It’s a cheap place, which suits my very limited means, and yet it is pleasantly situat- ed. Good morning, Miss Yarwood;:I am happy in any case to have made your acquaintance.” Long after he had gone Joyce Bland sat brooding. In her own excited im- agination she saw these two men—the one who had been ousted from his po- sition and who had so much to gain by discovering the fraud; the other who knew what that fraud was, and who wanted probably to share in the spoils —she saw them both together, plotting and scheming together for different reasons. She recognized that that mere casual visit to the lawyer in Lon- don and the production of the papers had peen nothing; there was no fight in that. The fight was beginning now —with the real Grace Yarwood, and the man who knew her story, and the man who had been made penniless, all clamoring at her doors. There was oné way by which to defeat them all; that way she would take. She sent a note down to the small hotel in the little town in which she knew Raymond Hawley was staying. [t was a nicely worded note, delicately suggesting that she would like to see him if he would call that day. There- after she raged about impatiently un- til the return of the messenger; and the messenger stated that Mr. Ray- mond Hawley had left the hotel early that morning and had not yet returned. Toyce—without the faintest suspicion of course, that the man who should properly have been thinking only of ter, was at that moment sitting on one Be Sooo OOoooOOooooooooooo 0 She flung away from him savagely, and began to pace the room again, keep- ing her back to him. After an uncom- fortable silence she spoke, still with- out looking at him. “You seem to forget that without me you can do nothing; without me you are a beggar,” she said. “Oh, is it quite fair to suggest that?” he asked. “I might be equally ungen- erous, and suggest that, by the terms of that unfortunate will, you can do nothing without me. But I don’t like to look at the matter from that point of view.” “I suppose there’s some one else?” she asked, stopping again and glancing at him over her shoulder. He thought of that fair girl on the bank of the river, and wondered, even while he answered the question, who she was and how she came to be in that camp of the gipsies. “It is not at all necessary to ask that question,” he replied. ‘“Hadn’t we better bring this interview to a close? We shall be so much better able to talk about it calmly later on,” he added. “I want to know now,” she said. brusquely. “For some whim you are keeping me and keeping yourself out of a fortune; for some whim you mean to ruin us both—and I, for one, de- cline to be ruined. I want your an- swer.” “And I must decline to give it,” he replied. “As I have said before, there is plenty of time; and I have as great a right to choose as you have, Cousin Grace. The condition in the will was an absurd and an unjust one; but we can’t help that. As we are both help- less in the matter, won't it be best that we should both be merciful to each other? I want honestly to do the best I can, but you—” “I know,” she interrupted sharply, “I am not the Cousin Grace you thought I should be. Well, I can’t*help that. You are bound for my sake as well as your own to fulfill a certain contract, if you can put no higher name to it; I demand that you shall fulfill it.” “1 am sorry, but I refuse to recog- nize that demand,” he said, with a bow. “I have as great a right to choose as any one else to choose for me.” He went out quietly, leaving her standing there, raging and helpless. The wost of the business was that she began to feel, in a ridiculous fashion, that she really cared for him; began to understand for the first time in: her. life what love really was, and what it meant. There was that of goodness in her that she would have been will- ing, in that moment, at least, to have let the fortune go to the winds if only he had put his arms about her and whispered that nothing mattered but herself. And, above all, of course, she loathed herself for having so far yield- ed to the natural impulse of the mo- ment as to have given him the chance to refuse her appeal. She would never be able to forgive him for that—nor to forgive herself. (To Be Continued.) side of a stream, on the other side of which was the other Grace Yarwood— sent the messenger back with the note (he had stupidly brought it away with him again), with instructions that he was to leave it in order that it might be given to Mr. Raymond Hawley im- mediately on his return. Even after that she had to wait a very considerable time, for Raymond found it necessary to wander about in the neighborhood of the gipsy camp for an hour or two on leaving his com- panion, the while he speculated con- cerning the identity of that fair gipsy to whom he had been so communica- tive beside the bank of the stream. But at last he came to the great house and inquired for Miss Grace Yarwood, and was shown up, Joyce having made certain on this occasion that it was the particular Mr. Hawley she desired to see. More than ever did it appear desir- able that she should fulfill that con- dition in the will of the late John Haw- ley when the young man entered the room. It had grown dark, and in the soft glow of the light Raymond Hawley certainly looked very handsome. She thought how soft and kindly and sym- pathetic his voice sounded when he greeted her; how different from those voices to which she had been accus- tomed in the rough life she had led. “You sent for me, cousin?” he asked. “Yes.” She hesitated a little and sat looking down nervously while she spoke. ‘“Won’t you sit down, Cousin Raymond? You don’t seem to under- stand how difficult you make it for me,” she added, pathetically. “Isn’t it a little difficult for both of us?” he asked, with a little laugh. “Two people like ourselves, who have never met until within this past week or two, thrust suddenly together and told that all their lives must depend on the fact that they are willing to take the one step that neither a man nor a woman ever cares to have thrust upon them without question. You see, cousin, it would have been so much better if we could have chosen for our- selves—and if we could have known each other a little time, and so have made up our minds—wouldn’t it?” Perhaps he thought, a little shame- facedly, about that unknown girl be- side the stream, to catch a glimpse of whom he had wandered in the woods for half of that long summer day; but that, of course, was quite another mat- ter. “Do you find it so very difficult to reconcile yourself to the idea?” she asked, softly, with a sudden upward flash of her eyes at him. “Am I so very—so very repulsive?” “You are making it more difficult still,” he said, quietly. “TI suppose it is, at the best, only a business arrange- ment—and for that reason rather re- pulsive.” “Oh! you can only regard it as a business arrangement, then?” she said. “Hasnt’ it occurred to you, Cousin Raymond, that I might look at it from another point of view?” “From what other point of view can either of us look at it?” he asked. “For- give my saying so, Cousin Grace, but don’t you think we might wait, at least until it is getting near the time when this probation shall be over? One doesn’t know what may happen in that time,” he added, lightly; we might grow to love each other; in fact, any- thing might happen.” “That’s just the point,” she replied, getting up and walking up and down the room. “Anything might happen be- fore that time has expired; and I am not used to waiting. If you put it in that fashion, let us call it a business arrangement; but as it serves us both, why not carry it out?” “There’s plenty of time,” he replied, getting to his feet and also watching her. “Somehow you're not in the least like the.Cousin Grace I had imagined you would be; not in the least like all I’ve heard concerning your mother.” “I see; you are disappointed, eh?” she asked, stopping and turning sud- denly to him. “No;. not exactly disappointed; it would be very discourteous to suggest that,” he replied, with a smile. “Only we all form in our minds a certain ideal of the woman who is coming into our lives; your very name—Grace— seemed to suggest that you would be— well—would be different.” “There’s nothing of the milksop about me; I have not lived the life for it,” she said, coming near to him and standing with her hands clenched at her sides and looking straight into his eyes. “You forget that I have wan- dered about—with my father, of course —all my life; you forget that mine has been the life you would, not under- stand. But something in me, forgotten or neglected until now,” she went on, with a sudden half-reckless, half-de- spairing movement of her arms— “something in me I have not under- stood calls for some love—some sym- pathy. Look at this great house in which I reign alone, in the midst of a world I do not understand, surrounded by people who look at me askance and do not trouble to understand. I—I thought you would be different.” “I’m sorry,” he said, lamely. “Yes, you're sorry,” she retorted, bit- terly. “That's all you can say—and it MANY DOLLS ARE IMPORTED. Entire Floor of One Building Given Up to Display of Samples. The adjective bewildering might properly be used to describe the array of dolls displayed as samples in a toy importing house. Great assortments of dolls are to be found in more than one large retail store, but here is an entire floor of a building given up wholly to dolls. There is to be seen nothing but dolls. From one end to the other of this long floor run lines of counters, each with a rack over it. And ranged along as close as they can be placed on the counters and racks are dolls. There are thousands of dolls, and no two are alike, for these do not consti- tute the concern’s stock of dolls, but its doll samples. There are jointed dolls four feet long, and jointed dolls half an inch in length.—New York Sun. JAPAN’S DEBT TO US. United States, Through Commodore Perry, Opened the Empire. “What was the greatest service ren- dered Japan by the United States?” I asked Mr. Takahira, Japanese minis- ter to the United States.” The minister leaned forward in his chair, his fingers nervously tapping the top of his desk. Then he said: “It was the United States, represented by Commodore Perry, that opened the em- pire of Japan. No other nation but an Anglo-Saxon nation could have done it so well—so auspiciously—for there is no civilization like the Anglo-Saxon civilization.” Mr. Takahira took a pen from his desk, and pointing to it said: “The Japanese believe that the civilization represented by the pen is greater than all the civilization represented by the sword. Education and literature were the keynotes Japan.—World’s Work. : Law of Compensation. apple got into the dumpling. “Probably,” they suggested, “it was the shortcake.” su. - = A A model illustrating a method of averting a large class of railway acci- dents that are known as rear-end col- lisions was exhibited a short time ago in New York city. On the track, 30 fcet from the ordi- nary semaphore, is placed a dwarf semaphore, whose movements are made to correspond with those of the other, whether the latter is cperated by hand or electricity. From the side of the locomotive projects downward @ rod of glass, in such a position that it will strike the dwarf semaphore when the signal is set at danger. Con- tact breaks the glass. The immediate effect of this is to bring into play in the cab a steam mechanism which shuts the throttle, locks it, applies the air brakes, and finally deposits sand on the track. Only when the train stops can the engineer unlock his throttle. He must first adjust a fresh glass rod in place of the broken one. Thus an effective safeguard is provid- ed against running past a signal on account of the sickness, death or care- lessness of the engineer, or fog or smoke. The apparatus is so designed that if the engineer, having his wits about him, and having his train under con- trol, wishes to do so, he can prevent the smashing of the glass rod, and run slowly to the main semaphore. To keep the rod from hitting the dwarf semaphore, he touches a’ mechanism in the cab which shifts the position of the “destructible member,” and saves it from injury. When he does so, however, a record of the time is made automatically on an indicator, so that he cannot play any tricks without the fact being known. Each Spout Is a Handle. To obviate this difficulty many a hostess provides both in sufficient quantity to meet the wants of her guests, necessitating the use of two pots and two stands. Why not dis- pense with this trouble and utilize the combination tea and coffee pot which has recently been designed by a Pennsylvania inventor? As the il- lustration shows, it is capable of pour- ing a cup of either beverage on a moment’s notice, and that, too, with- out burning the hand by contact with either spout handle. As will be seen, the two spouts, which also serve as handles for the pot, are surrounded by coils of wire, which prevent the hand from grasping the heated metal when reversing the pot to pour a cup of drink from the spout that has pre- viously been used as the handle. The pot is divided through the center by a partition which reaches from top to bottom,.and when it is not desired to utilize it for brewing two beverages at the same time one side can be filled with hot water, for the double purpose of maintaining the warmth of the coffee or tea and for use in weakening the beverage should it prove too strong. Harry W. Gander of Rudy, Pa., is the inventor. A Collapsible Stretcher. It has been said that Japan went to ‘war with China simply to secure the (discipline and training necessary for ‘the impending conflict with Russia, ‘which is but another example of a mation profiting by the motto, though admittedly peculiar in the manner in ‘which it was carried out. But nations jare not alone in heeding this admoni- tion. The inventor has taken it upon himself at all times to strive for the improvement and advancement of all that goes to make war terrible, from the ship-burning mirror of Archime- des to the rapid-fire gun of the modern inventor. But if war has been made more horrible, the hospital equipment has in a measure kept pace with it from the humane point of view, un- til the sick or wounded men can now be properly cared for until claimed by the grim reaper or restored to health, with the chances more in favor of the latter outcome than they were even a few years ago. 5 In the matter of stretchers for carry- ing the wounded from the field of bat- tle the hospital corps may be inter- ested in the idea of a Swiss inventor. It consists principally of a set of lazy- tongs, with a canvas cloth extending from head to foot when the stretcher ,is extended. The handles by which the carrier is lifted are attached to the lower section of the folding frame, serving to fold the stretcher when they are turned down against the legs and to extend it when in po- sition to carry a wounded soldier off the field. Human Passions. Photographed. Some photographic records of hu- 'man emotions, obtained at Geneva by | Dr. E. Magnin and M. Edward Flegen- :heimer, are of remarkable interest. in the awakening of The experiments have been made upon a very susceptible hypnotic sub- ject, who has been influenced by both musical and oral suggestion, and the George III. was wondering how the | entire range of human passions—joy, anger, fear, sadness, gluttony, greed, etc.—have been recorded in about 500° the same way the berries got out of ; photographs of the woman under the various forms of suggestion. The in- Perceiving the landlady glaring at | tensity of the expressions {s said to him, the terror-stricken monarch com- | have been rarely equalled by the great pletely lost his reason.—New York , artists. aA t ive Cee Here is a plan for an attractive cot- Yage that can surely be built for $1,- 600 anywhere. Entering the house you find yourself in a fairly large hall, with an attractive staircase immedi- ately before you, and on the right a cheerful sitting room. The staircase is designed with a seat at one side, and is an open stair to the first land- ing, with nicely turned balusters and rail. The space under the stair is used as the stair to the basement from the combined dining room and kitchen. The sitting room has a corner ar- rangement, showing a pleasant bay to form a sort of circular alcove addition to the room, yet the expense of it is not great, as it is partly supported and roofed by the porch, and the re- mainder. extends over the foundation. The dining room and kitchen are combined, with a pantry and wash room. The downstairs bedroom can be used as a library, if desired, cut ting out the closet, and having a large cased opening between this room and the sitting room. On the second floor there are two bedrooms, one on each side of the hall, which are lighted by the dor- mers, as is seen by the exterior view. This dormer also gives good ventila- tion, as the transoms over the bed- room doors give a circulation of air through the second story rooms. Al- though it may appear in the exterior that there are sloping ceilings in the second floor bedrooms, such is not the case to a great extent. There is only a foot cut off of the wall and ceiling for the roof. There is a single chimney, and it is nicely located for heating the house either with stoves or a furnace. At each side of the second floor bedrooms are large spaces left under the roof, which make excellent storage closets. The house is 24 by 28 feet. The in- terior woodwork is finished in natuz- al finish, and half of the space under the first floor is excavated for a large cellar. Cement Anchor Posts. C. C—How would cement answer for constructing anchor posts for a fence of 11 strands of coil spring wire; the posts would be sunk 5 or 6 feet in the ground. In what propor- tion should cement and sand be mixed? Cement answers well for making ordinary fence posts, but where there would be a side strain, as on an anchor post it would be well to build iron rods into each post; this would add greatly to their strength. The cost of concrete anchor posts would require to be composed of one part cemert to five parts of gravel, which would require a barrel of cement for 20 cubic feet of posts, so that each post would require nearly half a bar- rel of cement. A Tonic for Fowls. Mrs. M.—Would a small quantity of ground gentian, say a quarter of a teaspoonful, fed in a mash once a day to a dozen hens, be harmful or beneficial to the fowls? They get no vegetables, only a few boiled potatoes daily. If the hens appear to be down in condition and need toning up, a small quantity of ground gentian fed daily as indicated would undoubtedly prove beneficial. It is not advisable, how- ever, to be dosing healthy fowls, but a light tonic at the end of 4 long win- ter should be all right until the birds can get out to the green grass. Feed for Chickens. Mrs. J. P.—Last year I hatched chickens with an incubator, but they died when a few days old. They ap- peared to have bowel trouble. I gave them curd and bread soaked in milk. Was this proper food for them? Chickens should receive no food for the first thirty-six hours, and then they shduld have light food such as bread soaked in milk and squeezed aimost dry, besides coarse cracked wheat or oats groats. Curd is very indigestible and likely to cause bowel trouble. Cabbage Maggot. F. R.—What will destroy the little white grubs that are hatched around the roots of young and early cabbage plants? For the cabbage maggot, probably the easiest and best remedy is pulling away the soil down to the true roots and pouring in about a teacupful of a tea made by soaking one or two ounces of pyrethrum insect powder in a gallon of warm water and then pull- ing the earth around the roots again. Converting Silo Into Root House. T. A. C—I wish to convert a silo into a root house; it is constructed of 10-inch studding, double boarded and paper between. It is inside of the barn and the bottom is level with the barn floor. How can it be made frost proof? Probably the best plan to follow would be to fill in between the studs and on the ceiling with dry sawdust. A double door would be necessary to keep out the frost. PLEASE TELL YOUR READERS | Our Big 60-Cent Catalogue Is Now Free. 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If you have one of our big cata- logues or have ever seen one you know what it is, the most complete, most up to date and lowest-priced cat- alogue ever published. If you haven't our big catalogue don’t fail to send for one at once. If you have the big book please tell your friends and neighbors that the book is now free and they can get one for the asking. Simply on a postal card or in a letter say, “Send me your Big Catalogue,” and the big new book, our regular 50- cent catalogue, will go to you by re- turn mail, postpaid, free with our com- pliments. Please don’t forget to tell your neighbor who hasn’t the big book that the big 50-cent book is now free to anyone for the asking. Address SEARS, ROEBUCK & CO., Chicago. Philadelphia Life Not Strenuous. “Figures show that Philadelphia teachers do not receive as much pay as the teachers in New York and Chi- cago. “That’s all right; they don’t earn as much.” “Why not?” “They don’t have to do as work.” “Why not?” “There are so many things that Phil. adelphia children don’t have to know.” —Brooklyn Life. much Eve Was the First Summer Girl. “Can you tell me,” said Eve, “why I am a summer girl?” “Little Eva,” said Adam, who was interlocutor, and, it may be added, the whole show, “you ask me why you are a@ summer girl. I do not know why you are a summer girl. Why are you a summer girl?” “I am a summer girl,” said the orig: inal sinner, “because I am just before the fall.” Saying which she prepared to fix apple sauce for supper.—Chicaga Journal. The Cheerful Idiot’s Conundrum. “What is the difference,” began the Cheerful Idiot. “Oh, it don’t make any difference,” moaned the Tired Citizen. “What’s the difference,” repeated the Cheerful Idiot, serenely, “between an athlete and an invalid?” “Why,” responded the Tired Citizen “I should think there would be enough difference between those two to make it unnecessary even for you to ask about it.” “Well,” said the Cheerful Idiot, with out turning a hair, “one is well-knit and the other is well—nit. Ha, ha!”— Baltimore American. Cure for Backache. Randolph, Neb., May 30.—Cedar county has seldom heard of a more wonderful case than that of Mrs. Lucy Nicolls of this place. For a long time Mrs. Nicolls suffered with very se- vere pains in the back and almost in- stantly these pains left her. She has tried doctors and everything, but nothing had helped her till she used Dodd’s Kidney Pills. She says: “Dodd’s Kidney Pills did me so much good I can’t tell, it was so won- derful. My back hurt me all the time. I doctored and tried everything, but did not feel any better. I thought my life was short on earth, but now I feel like a new person. I used one box of Dodd’s Kidney Pills and I do not feel the slightest ache or pain. I can turn and twist any way without feeling it and I feel so proud of it I cannot hardly express my gratitude to Dodd’s Kidney Pills for what they have done for me.” Substantial Agreement. Archie was not sure her opinion would coincide with his, and he pro ceeded to feel his way with caution. “Does it not seem to you,” he said “that this production has been hastil} staged, and that the actors appear tc be deficient in that—er—enthusiasm and self-abandonment that enables one to lose one’s self in the illusion of the play?” © “Oh, yes,” wearily answered Miss Quickstep. “It’s punk.” —Chicaga Tribune. Unnsual Emphasis Necessary. “Willie, dear,’ his mother said, “I wish you would go out and see what all that racket in the next block is about.” Willie went away ,and returned half an hour later with the desired informa- tions “There was a deaf and dumb couple married down there this evening,” he said, an’ the boys is trying to charivari ’em accordin’.”"—Chicago Tribune. . te