Lakeland Evening Telegram Newspaper, December 2, 1911, Page 6

] ANGEL OF THE INN By Temple Bailey (Copyright, 1911, by Associated Literary I'ress) High above them, on the gountain, was the thatched roof of the inn. “In one hour,” Gregory said, rap- turously, I shall see her.” Morgan looked at him, enviously. “If I were as young as you, and love was waiting for me, I'd thank the gods.” ! They rode for a while in silence. | then Morgan asked, “How in name of all that’s wonderful did that, lady of yours manage to follow way to the heights?” Gregory explained was a little child in her There's a mystery—Mercedes eagerly. mother’s Arms. doesn’t know why they came. But they took refuge in the inn. It was kept then by a native of the country and his wife. Mrs. Harding made ! herself necessary to them. and when they cGied she took charge—'Angel of the inn'—the natives call her.” “She doctors them, and they bave great faith in her,” he went on, “and the food is famous—she has the art of making every meal a feast.” “That sounds promising. You may live on love, Gregory, but I yearn for the fleshpots.” “She’ll give you such a dinner! Chicken and omelette, and coffee!" As they approached the little host- elry, Morgan eyed it curiously. A girl stood on the porch, shading her eyes with her hand. “That's Mercedes,” sald Gregory. | Morgan saw the girl run down to meet her love; saw the youthful grace of her figure—and then he saw her face! He swayed in his seat, recovered himself, and managed to acknowledge Gregory's radiant presentation. All blushes and happiness the girl greeted him. “Shall we go into the @arden? Mother s there.” Morgan hung back. “If—if you don't mind,” he stammered, “I'll brush up a bit first,” and in spite of Gregory's protest, he left them. Alone at last in his room on the first floor, he faced the situation. Twenty years ago he had loved and “You—Here ™ l married Mary Harding. They had a few months of happines, then, after the birth of little Mercedes, had come estrangement, separation. He had never been sure how he had , falled. le was a busy doctor, and she had doubted his devotion. One day, in a whirl of indignation, she had gone, disappeared utterly. He was a silent man, but he had suffered. He had been so unconscious of neglect. He had thought her a child, pleased with playthings, and he had found his happiness in supplying them. And now they were to meet at last tn this remote South American coun- try. He had hoped it might be so when Gregory had told him of the girl up in the mountains near the camp where the young man had been wtationed. In the face of her mother's displcasure, Mercedes had promised to marry her lover when he came back from his trip home. Morgan had followed the clew—and out there in the sunlight was Mary, the wife of his youth! He stood up and saw through the window, the rocky garden, rising ter- Tace above terrace, to a little summer house that was set like a shrine on the pinacle. There were many people in the garden, pale, poor, sick people, and among them walked a gracious figure ~a woman in whose eyes shone the tenderness which makes some women mothers of all helpless things. As the poor creatures in the gar den swayed toward her, she held out her hands to them. “My children,” he heard her say, “it is late. ! must rest. But for vou there shall be a little feast, here §n the garden. You are my guests. Good night.” She came down the terrace, fol- Jowed by their murmurs of gratitude. And this serene and mdon saint was his pliant child-wife! What marvel had been wrought in her? {He felt that he could not meet her before curious eyes. It would not be the | companion, your helpmate. this I to be thrust aside—" “She | | of her grlonmnce. btu he said only, "‘nlr to her—to him—Iit would mot be fair to Mercedes. So, as she passed, bhe opemed his | lattice wide. “Mary!" Her eyes wet his, went out of her face. “You—here?” ! “Yes. 1 came with Gregory. I thought 1 recognized in Mercedes | Harding a possibility of hope.” “And now that you are here— what?" + “l want you in my life again, Mary " “To play my little part? No, Oliver. My days here are full of in- terest. I cannot go back to be a and the eolor/ | | It Contributes much to Nliteracy, THD BVBNING TSLEORAM LAKELAND, R. ue [ ) mx. CHILD LABOR IN THE SOUTH According to This Authority. (By Associutea Piess.) Houston, Texas, Lec. Z.—Abui tion of child labor in the south and a system of compulsory educatio: as a4 means to this end was strongly urged at todays session of Southern kducational Association b) i paything.” “You were never that.” “l was never your comrade, your 1 wanted to stand by your side, fighting, not She was flaming with the thought “T love you.” “I cannot call it that —and I can- not go back with you.” “When Mercedes marries Gregory, what then?" “He shall not marry her. confes my unhappiness. 1 never told her the truth.” “She has a right to know, and Gregory has a right. You must not forget that, Mary.” “l do not forget that men seem to have all the rights.” Her steady eyes sent forth a challenge. “If the time has come to tell Mercedes, I shall have the strength to do it. But I must be alone.” “No.” he said, sharply; “let me, too, plead my cause with my daugh- ter.” She seemed to make up her mind rapidly. “Come then,” she cried, “to my room. There she shall choose.” The lovers came reluctantly. “Dinner is ready,” Mercedes pro- tested. “It can wait. There are more Im- portant things, dearest.” For a mo ment Mary's voice faltered, then she sald, quietly. “This gentileman—Mr. Morgan, has a claim on our atten- tion. At one time he was very near and dear to me. When you were a baby—he often held you in his arms.” “You knew me?” turned to Mor- gan. “Yes—" he came over and took her Lands in his—“I—] am your fatber, Mercedes.” She clung to him, sobbing. mother said—you were dead.” “He was dead to me,” Mary told "her. “I left him because he 4id mot love me. 1, who would bave died for him, had no place in his life—I was pushed aside for other interests. That's what men do to women, Mer- cedes. Thet's what men do to wo- men!"” From out of the silence that fol- lowed the wild cry came her hus. band’s voice, sternly: “And what do women do to men? You thought I cared only for my profession,” he continued, heavily. “Shall I tell you, then, what hap- pened? My love for you had been the mainspring of my existence. When 1 will have | You left me I was a broken man—to- iday I am a ruined one. I have spent the years and my fortune in search- ing for you. Nothing else has mat- tered. My income is a mere pittance. my life tends toward—nothing. That is what a woman can do to a man, Mary.” She stared at him as one who wakes from a dreadful dream. “You cared as much as that?” At that moment she came into her heritage of loving wifehood. She went over to the man bowed in deep dejection before her. *“You shall stay here with me, Oliver,” she sald. “I— I need you, dear—you can help me with my people—I have longed so often for a surgeon who could do the things that you can do--we can work together.” “Mary,” he said, brokenly, and she crept into his arms and, with her kead pillowed on his breast, she talked of the wonderful future which they would spend together. And Gregory and the girl stole away to the garden, with dinner for- gotten, everything forgotten, except the wonder of the love that never dies. Routed by Militant Priest. Five burglars who recently broke into the house of a Roman Catholic priest at the village of Ronck, near Lille, France, met with a rude sur- prise. First of all they compelled an old servant, under cover of a revoiver, to direct them through the house. Failing to find any valuables, they then rang the night bell, and as the | priest came down the stairs two of them pointed their revolvers at him and asked for money. The priest is a strong man. “All right,” he said, “you shall have something;” and he deliberately approached the men and with two powerful blows knocked two of them over. The others fired at him, but, although wounded, he fought on and routed his aggressors. Speed of Birds. | Many naturalists are of the opinion that the speed of birds in flights is often greatly overestimated. The swift, for example, has been credited with lar imagination compares the flight of a sparrow hawk with thatof a can- pon ball! Independent of aid from the wind, it is thought that 40 miles an hour is about the full speed of a good pigeon lflylng a long distance. The homing | pigeon can be relied on, under fairly easy conditions, to make 60 miles an hour or even more. But the sparrow hawk frequently fails to catch slow- er birds that form its prey.—Techal cal Magazipe. a | and see the king and queen speed of 150 miles an hour, and popu- | neved here and there, threw money kEdward N. ley secretary of the National Child Labor committee, Mr. Clopper's statement were made largely from investigations made by him and his associates. *Child labor and education not go hand in hand,” he declared, “the one works against the other. Child labor means adult ignorance and adult ignorance means disas- ter.” While the cotton industry does not employ all the children who work in the south—the oyster and shrimp canneries of the coast hiring many—it was selected as having ty- pical conditions. In 1562 mills in six southern states nearly 10,000 boys and girls under the age of 16 were found employed. 560 of these boys and 389 girls were under. 12, while several of six and seven were found by federal investigators. Their Lours in many instances were from 6 to6 with overtime work frequent. \Vages are woefully low, according to the speaker, “The percentages of {lliterate children 10 to 14 years old in some southern states are nearly as high and in two states are actually high- er of the total white population,” continued Mr. Clopper. ‘“This does not mean the schools have not im- proved. It is rather an evidance that the children have not avalled themselves of such advantages as the schools offer.” These figures he explained did not include negroes or foreigners. “Compulsory education is needed not only to help in keeping young children out of the mills but also to oblige the parents to send them to school until they have attained proper age. In addition to the in- difference of parents the mill own- ers of Tennessee regard the children as a reserve supply of labor ready for use in a busy season.” Employers often depopulate schools in their towns when hands are badly needed, asserted Mr. Clop- per. Such an attitude annule the work of teachers. Mr. Clopper refuted the oft’ re- peated complaint of the widowed mother needing the earning of her children by quoting figures showing 76 per cent of the little workers had both parents working and only 14 per cent had widowed mothers. He declared that the Jittle oyster shuck- ers received in some instances from 10 to 25 cents a day. MANY PETTICOATS. The French manufacturers, who have petitioned the minister of com- merce to wage war on tight dresses, would probably welcome a revival of the “fashion of seventy years ago,” says the Pall Mall Gazette. According to a German historian of the nineteenth century costume, Herr Oscar Fischel, “about 1840 as many petticoats were worn as pos- gible, Over one of flannel came an- other padded with horsehair, above that one of Indian calico, stiffened with cors, then a wheel of thickly plaited horsehair, a starched muslin petticoat, and at last the dress itself. A few years later fashion prescribed ,a flannel petticoat, an under petti- coat three and a half yards wide, an- other one wadded to the knees and stiffened in the upper part with whalebone, a white starched petti- coat with three flounces and two muslin petticoats.” DISQUIETING THOUGHTS. The winter’s at the door: full soon I'll hear him roar, and where's the roll to get my coal and buy of grub a store? Oh, where's the clanking cash to keep the kids in hash and shoddy clothes and furbelows and shoes and other trash? The money where's it at, to buy my frau a hat | and hay and chow to feed the cow and soup-bones for the too much, 1 ween, for” wholesome gasolene; | blew my wad to go abroad 1 jour- in the air; and now I'm broke, my .hn s in soak, and now | am in des- *pair. | see a million chumps, like me, in doleful dumps, the while I Clopper, Mississippi Val- | cat? 1 spent ;$ e e . EDUGA‘HOIO!!‘MIO]I -tonu.mmnltum It Should be Liberal and in Accord- ance with Advazced [deas. (By Associated Press.) Houston, Tex., Dec. 1.—A plea for Letter educational facilities for sons { farmers ¢f the south was made! petore the Southern Educational As- —ociation here today by Supt. €. W. Richards, of Ardmore, Okla., vil\'i . when he spoke on the sub-| i1, “Difliculties and Need of the] sonthern Farmer's Boy.” { The welfare of country boys con- ritute what is possibly the greatest| | problem confronting the people of | the south today, declared Pro. Rich- ards. He said there were 3,365,000 of these boys of school age, and paid do|, (ribute to farmer boys, saying that despite their disadvantages and handicaps they have played a splen- did part in the development of the country. “The home, the school and the church are the three great institu- tions which are chiefly responsible for the education of childhood,” as- serted the speaker. “Through these the child must get a great deal of the many sided ex- periences of the race which consti- tutes a large part of his education” he said, “These institutions must bring to him those life experiences which are noble and elevating in their tendencies, and keep away from him those experiences which are ignoble and degrading in their nature. “One of the defects of the rural school is the curriculum or the sub- ject matter taught in them. Here we find served up from day to day and year to year that same mental pabulum which has been served to young minds ever since the middle ages, and very little recognition given to the needs of the everchang- ing civilization in which we live, and the demands which it is making upon the youth of our southland to- day. Thus the training which he receives is of such a nature to cause him to be narrow in his ideals, aims and purposes, and at the same time to be strong in his likes and dis- Iikes. “We must have larger and better equipped school bulldings in rural districts, and this equipment made to meet the needs of rural rchools and not such as {8 used in our city schools. Next the teachers of these schools must be so trained that they thoroughly understand and are in sympathy with rura] life.” He went on to suggest that the course of study in rural institutions should be such as will present to the child the best that is to be found in the life ex- periences of the farm, and that the subjects should be taught by teach- ers in a way that “it may become so attractive to him that he will be en- tirely content to remain on the farm and dignify the life there.” Professor’'s Bad Break. “Professor Blinker {s getting more absentminded every day.” “What's his latest break?’ “Why, his oldgst daughter s just out of cooking school, you know, and he’s been show- ing his class a cruller she made. He told them it wae proof of the fact that the men of the stone age played the game of ring toss.” Virtue of Skunk Oil. Wonderful virtues are ascribed to skunk oil by those in the mountains. Trappers use it to conceal all odor ot man from fox or lynx or other animal wary of traps. In case of croup, of any bronchial or lung trouble, it rubs in quickly. With physicians at times many miles away, a bottle of skunk oil is always present in a mountain eer's family. THE PLACE OF Better Things l1ars to fight the white A special from Richmond, Va, says: “A million dollars from Red Cross seals this Christmas” is the {cry of the National Association for |l."e stidy and Prevention of Tuber- culosis, which finds an answer in the slogan of the State anti-Tuberculo- sis Association, ““Ten thousands dol- plague in Virginia."” The State Anti-Tuberculosis Asso- ciztion, which has conducted the sale | of Red Cross Christmas seals in Vir- ginia during the past two wlnterq. has again been given the honor of selling the seals, and its officers are busily engaged today in shipping the little tokens of good cheer to all parts of the state. In every locality the proceeds of the sale are divided between the na- tional, the state and the municipal agencies fighting the white plague. In Richmond, for example, a small part of the revenue goes to the state association, a small part to the na- tional war on disease, and half the proceeds will go to the support of Pine Camp, and the instructive visit- ing nurses. In every other town 50 cents of every dollar spent on Red Cross seals goes for the immediate alleviation of local suffering. TAXINRG BACHELORS. One of the smallest of the German principalities is undertaking a very big experiment in financial legisla- tion. The Diet of the elder of the two principalities of Reuss, which lie in central Germany, to the southeast of the Thuringian states, carried yesterday a resolution in favor of in- creasing the state income tax by 5 per cent. of the tax on incomes be- tween $600 and $1,200, and by 10 per cent. of the tax on incomes ex- ceeding $1,200 a year in the case of unmarried persons of either sex, who have reached their thirtieth year. The Diet consists of twelve members, and the resolution was carried by seven votes against five. The super- taxation of bachelors has often been promised in other German states, and was jocularly referred to as a possible form of imperial taxation by the Emperor Willlam.—Berlin Let- ter to London Times. 2 Books. | A bome without books, & home with- | ml libraries, is & home without o | soul. Greatest of All Mistakes, The only people who do not make mistakes are those who do nothing, and that is the greatest mistake of all. il oy Alry DIRECT| County mmou Clerk—A. B. Fergyson By Supt. Publi Kirk, Bartow. Sheriff—John 1| County Bartow. Tax Collector- . Bartow. Tax Collector--F tow. Treasurer—J. T, County Commissi; ., \Whidden, Ch'm., My, Lewis, Bartow; R. F. |, . Meade; J. E. Bryant, | F. Holbrook, Lakelan: School Board.—R. W Ch'm., Fort Meade; W den, Bartow; J. A. oy |40 T. B. Kirk, Secretary Bariyy State Senator—D. H 1y, land. Members of House A | 4pq4 Bartow; Geo. Fortner, pi.. . City Officers. Mayor—Jno. F. Cox Marshal—W. H. Tillis Clerk and Treasurer- i |, Sway City Attornty—Epps Tiicker, . City Council—W. §. Irwin, R Mayes, G. E. Southard, W dTtow |m~lr.1. on_y HgAn. Py Judge- w < Prastq Hancog I Way H. Pug J. M. Keen, H. D. Basser g Eaton. State Officers. Governor—A. W. Gilchrist, T, hassee. Secretary of State - H. (lay (py ford, Tallahassee. Comptroller—A. . (‘room, T hassee. Treasurer—W. V. Knot. Talla see. Attorney-General mell, Tallahassee. Commissioner of Azriculture- E. McLin, Tallahasee. Supt. of Public Instruction—W M. Holloway, Tallahassee. Railroad Commissioners—R. Hi son Burr, Chairman; Newton Blitch, Royal . Dunn. W. (. Yo Secretary. All communicatio should be addressed to Tallahassee, President of the Senate--Fred Cone, Lake City. Park M Tr Ne Paper Money in Peru. Poru io & country without money. Gold, silver and copper o are the mediums of circulation, Show Strength of Character, High cheek bones are said to cate great strength of character some direction. Value of the Smile. There is much religion in a | "?"‘- WW Clough Shoe Co. .NOTHING BUT SHOES... We sell at regular prices and give a discount oi S per cent. YOUR GAIN OUR LOSS. Only exclusive shoe store in Lakelaad. All the latest styles---Call and see for yourself And what shall it be this Ui give your family for this time. Allow us Bathroom” which fills all the requirements of a present; dainty, i beautiful and moreover will be a constant Ice Cream Candies Lufsey’s % gaze on bygone days and work the|d briny pumps. Like me, they blew |3 their bucks among the drakes and|§ ducks, and have no roll to buy their |{ coal—and life’s all nips and tucks. |J When this dread winter flies, you'll see me passing wise; in summer time T'll salt the dime for beef and ples Lufsey’s pleasurc and daily re- minder for years. Ask for Bath Booklet. Christmas? That perplexing, pleasing puzzle what ©° Christmas is likely occupying a large share of your thought: to suggest something entirely uniquc as a Christmas present and yet thoroughly practical. A “Standard” **Modern