Lakeland Evening Telegram Newspaper, February 8, 1912, Page 7

WING to the newspaper and publishing’ business, enlargement of our it has been necessary to move The News Job Office up-stairs where it will be found in Rooms 11 and 12, Kentucky Building, in the com- For anvthing that can be printed, {if you want petent charge of Mr. G. J. Williams, MDD D AN DI o D D D D D I IS D EID S D P I call on the best work at the right prices, \r. Williams, The News Job Office Reoms 11 and 12 (upstairs) Kentucky Building. GO "'JoT FH:C IVE'.D LA n'-mma.z-rux:um R S CR Y H 48 [l Line Reach’s Base Ball Goods Our 50 cents Book Sale Is Still On [ « « PostCards 1 cent Each .. .« 3 ' LAKELAND BOOK STOXRE o 000 010T000I0IN0E OI0ROIOIOIOIOFRTIGIOIONE SEOCO0OO0D0V000 DL HO0VDOOOOVOVOICODIVLOOORD WO('OOOQOOOOGOO(*C-C"OOCN@WOOOOOCNWXW% & e & O 8 A,THE MODERN BAKERY.s Only Bakery in town that makes Bread and Cakes by machinery, which means no sweat in L D e eat e 5 3 PR . ..; as he rumbled past. On all sides read as m‘ld\,‘ b" hand “ ¢ "ll.ll‘-llltct‘ to use & ‘ people nodded and smiled. There was the best of goods in our bhread and cakes. sunnl-mmu heart \\.nmiln'.: ':.I...m lllm 1 gentle kindliness of the big polices o Vhone 203 for prompt delivery. Rk “I'd like to get across, Mr. Mos 3 Rarhite Brothers Lakeland "Tim Molony Job Printing § Stationery in All Shapes .. .. ¢ THE EVENING TELEGRAM LAKELAND, FLA., FEBRUARY 8, 1912, —Brute By M. J. Phittips (Copyright, 1911, bv Associated Literary | Press.) “You're & brute, Tim Moloney!” | said Sheila O'Brien, her blue eyes | flashing, “to whip Danny Cassidy!” “Poor little Danny,” mocked Big | Tim. “Sure, he weighs two hundred.” | “But he isn't as big as you are,” returned Sheila, with a glance of ad- | miration, sternly repressed. “You had no business to strike him.” “He danced five times with you last night,” accused Big Tim. “Every | time he does that, and brags about | it, I'll thump him.” “You have no thought of a poor | girl's reputation,” rejoined Sheila, on the verge of tears. “Sure, what will .\folks say, when they know two big cmadhauns were fighting about me?” Being unused to the ways of wom- en, Tim blundered then. “If you didn’t dance but once with Cassidy,” he pointed out triumphantly, “there'd be no fighting and no talking.” “Fll dance with who I please,” flared Sheila, white and angry. “Here's your ring, Tim Moloney; you can't prison me!"” | It was a rueful Rig Tim who found himself in the street soon after, his modest diamond ring in his pocket and desolation in his rt, That the hammering of the b ptious Cassidy would bring any such result he had never for a moment dreamed, or he have been slower about going into action, Bnt the damage was done. He promised himself sternly that if Cas- sidy didn't keep a civil tongue in his l\rnl another beating would be his , lately promoted to the | verned the busi- or in the city with a rod of wer six feet, with shoul- adoor, he earried his ) He was a ay squad,” n l handsome chap, with 1 eyes, His brown hair showed an un- ruly desire to curl behind, though it was clipped short. He was always clean shaven, with a tinge of healthy i red in his firm cheeks. Chauffeurs, motormen and teamsters were on their best behavior at his cor- uish brown | | directions, was dammed. Motormen banged their gongs peevishly, chauf- | feurs honked inquiringly. But Tim looked neither to the right nor the left; he hastened to the old lady on the curb. “You want to cross, ma'am?”’ he asked, with his sunny smile, and of- fered his arm, The old lady took it gratefully. “I suppose a lame old woman has no business on this busy street,” she said, a little breathlessly. “Sure, and you have, ma'am,” re- turned Tim, stoutly. “Take your time an’ don't slip. 'Tis bad footing.” ‘; “Thank you, young man; you're the | first person I've met since I left home | that wasn't in a hurry. The city's l; dreadful place!" | “It is so, ma'am,” agreed Tim, 80 | berly. When their slow journey was half | completed, the old lady realized that | the lane of six feet which they were traversing was banked on every side | by impatient hundreds who waited on | ber footsteps. She halted and withdrew her hand\ rom the policeman’s arm, the better ! to raise a chiding forefinger. “All these people waiting just for me? You ! shoulin't have done it. They’re more fmporiant than [ am.” J “They think they are, but they're not, ma'am,” assured Big Tim, “Wait- | in’ is good for them.” | He pave the nearest motorman a level glance that stopped him in mid- A grim, contemptuous stare, iz over a befurred chauffeur ificantly to his license num- ought the fellow's gauntleted hand quickly from the horn The other eurb was won at last, and the old lady turned for a final word, “You're real good,” she said, carne:t- Iy. “The city can't be such a dread- ful placo when there are boys like you i Is your mother living?" $ wam-—in Ireland,” returned Bigy Tim, I Fope yon write to h wice a month, ma% “Keep on writine, Don't ever mica, Motiicis set store by letter smiled mely, “Good-hy, Mr. Policon b Tim, bareheaded, bow e ticr ke over her finzers, dropped hnn a litile eurtsey a it was like a a play. 10 SHOW Wis clean an fresh, The glittering show windows, pricked out by their myriad hzhts were the backeronnd. The old lady i ner. He had a singular dislike for ar- and Tim, unconzciously graceful and gincere, held the center of the stage, The hurrying crowds on the walk filled in. The temper of the audience in 'ho street changed at the little tablean. Impatient scowls gave place to smiles. the Btreet again. ed. His white-gloved hand was alofty beckoning. The snarled strands of traflic straightened out and shuttled back and forth. The motorman who had banged the loudest gave Moloney a friendly grin a tiid voice when 1rote turned | reasonable; also see us ¢ | | g Tim dove into the tangle and | zigzagged his way to the middle of | His whistle sound- ! PAGE SEVEN The Spirit of Music makes its 4 and Bjor Bros. piaro " pparent th for anything in m ‘ he ’ carried in stock at all times. PERRY-THARP-BERRY MUSIC CO. - i o e bt = el .t at Poor Me n S II s | O BB 5 SR [OR Rich ”(’ns Clmhc l COME, AND (OME QUICK! The H Ub, Joscph LeVay, down a n It was Sheila, demure and 3, wa'um,” he stammerod R e ————— 4 o . G e — Alniost at the enib she hu I his it elbow suddenly to her lm . “You elin | A UETY 1 AD | aren't a brute, Tinn he sald, : ,‘\ {FLAND MARDRLE AND GRAN!TE WORX | “Waitin'is good for them: warmly. “I'm a mean, ungratetul girl, ols Ibe bide ited o Exst Leke Morton, Joha Edmunds, Prop. | g0 I am.” ; 5 fle crders of all requiring arythivy ia this line. | gument and a red-blooded love for ac-| “Sheila!” eried Tim, huckily. “Can § The man who did not heed the I come up tonight 2 ad Whoo MON[Y TALKS WE DELL’S tion. | white-gloved hand was likely to find | himself jerked bodily to the paving | like a catamount. The next day after his quarrel with Sheila he ruled his little kingdom with the impartial excellence of Solo- mon, albeit it was all done subcon- sciously. The warning whistle blew and traffic stopped. With one hand he held three converging strands; a gesture of the other and the fourth thread worked its way through. Then he shuttled the others back and forth with the calm confidence of the weav- ! er who carries his design ever before him. His thoughts were not on his work. Everywhere he looked he saw Sheila’s blue eyes blazing with anger, clouded with tears. Every sound resclved itself into Shella's voice. “You're a | brute, Tim Moloney!" Agaln and again he rehearsed their qwrel or thought of the seven hun- dred dollars saved up with which to start housekeeping. The poor little Ilpumed ring throbbed and burned against his heart. stones by a blue-clad giant with a leap | She smiled dazzingly, and a blush mounted to her rounded cheeks. "It you’ll bring me my ring."” “Darlin’!" said big Tim, fervently, Success in Life. The service in philosophy, of specu | lative culture, towards the human spirit I8 to rouse, to startle It into sharp and eager observation. Every moment some form grows perfect in hand or face; some tone on the hills or sea is choicer than the rest; some mood of passion or insight or intel lectual excitement is irresistibly real and attractive for us—for that mo ment only. Not the fruit of expe- rience, but experience itsel! is the end. A counted number of pulses only is given to us of & variegated, dramatic life. How may we see In them all that is to be seen in them by the finest senses? How shall we pass most swiftly from point to polnt, and be present always at the focus where the greatest number of vital | forces unite in their purest energy? To burn always with this hard, gem- like flame, to maintain this ecstacy, I8 Out! D't 1 AN s We Represent The BEST Companies THE R. H. JOUNSON FIRE INSURANCE AGENCY P. E. CHUNN, Manag. r & labciand. tia. POTATOES BEANS Ali SEEDS He did not know that, midafter-' gyccegg fn life —Walter Pater's Con- ; g : noon, Sheila, lips compressed and | ¢jygion in “The Renaissance.” ! Don't cond away for sucl 1 | head held high, came down the ave- S oa siah r n VI CHALLENGE COMP..s' BOTH AS REGARDS QUALITY AND |nue. She was on a wholly unneces. SieEs T Corner Stanes ot Sherababit [k Pi . OUR GOODS. sary errand which, she assured her- One pyhaseyur New York hr'e that Eastern vrown Som Nor did ¢ | self, was very important. A ' & § Skl . ‘ ..$1.00 he know that on pretense of waiting l;"“l i fnast Bl]‘: r',l,,,',x“",. n,,‘\. ;A": wherevos the R lum Hams, P" pound ...... B L ! for a car she was watching him with uf:" 'i"g "m::i":an N e ey Uik n;y il o ORI o . ..40¢ a betraying wistfulness. Ry e gt : S p"’ per pound 12 1-2¢ |~ Despite his preoccupation Tim saw ! Drosressive townsmen pull dowa & ~ I ' ! “n' l - 157 Dats, per pack: ,,e' E e Sk L : ..... 102 | the little cld lady on the curb as ::::tll:igll:hiz:wv-r‘r‘.«‘-m {;‘. "’: :,“,“:.,‘::q!['.::; fR[S"; le' ° ]Rl l ) ' ( .ar * Whole Wheat Flour, nerbag g 35¢ |soon as she arrived there. She bad |\ (Tp S T e L ling of the LYo 1 ) y ., * Greiem Flour, per bag . 35¢ Eilvery halr. It showed arcubd 1N 5y sione. Nothing reveald the of Pure Maine I'iss Potatocs e AT ... e e . e lic: ik e, Nothin is 2 15 rn'e Fleur, per b: 35¢ dm_xrmte i !)en_ealh ot change in fashions more mercilessly o - - i tag best npe BE . caee mee see eee ees e 4 which was fashion’s last word in the than its contents. The other day they § . est Flour .. ce e es - RS 42 seventies. She was bent and curried e e A s bxz. & T i e e .80¢ a cane. She wore a shawl; her gown :J'?enelu (;hv.:‘,_m»rr e of a b ALSO Ff. 3 T“..'ZERS B i o e v s .10 itifully shabby. In her fuded n?a,;ml..,xnh'." . A S 3 .. tUIELORS, DOF POOK . ..rniene cos - ...35¢ was a look almost of terror. gt ‘ e —— ; 37 Cream, 6 for .. IR Ny The streets were slippery with Dew ,q o0 0t g } ° WO TN e e ¢ Sek e ..25c over. Alo ' ! b 4 CALL 59 el ] e istle ehrilled. Roth hands i s ‘ 32 AND WE WILL BE GLAD TO SERVE YOU went up dernsnely All 1 BT 1ifs oo o tox ot billacne g ° N trucks, motors, trolleys—stopped. The baby's feeding bottle several toys and - e E. G. TWEEDELL lh'iug stream, pouring in from four i photographs of pretty woumen.” G R eI el o P - -