Lakeland Evening Telegram Newspaper, October 21, 1912, Page 6

THE Sting TELEGI 2 Lan BLAND, FLA, OCT. 21, 1912, the world’s greatest safe against tire, theft, ctc, OF LAKELAND EVER any fear of burglars if , you kezp your papers, valuables and jewelry in our deposit vaults—built on the most scientific modern lines by makers. .. Utterly proof DLON'T GET TRAPPED INTO POOR PLUMBING merely because it seems cheaper. It iz only seeming. It may be the dear- (st investment you ever made, If your tamily's and your own health are anything to you ger the best | lumbing you can. We are ready to cstimate on doing that kind for you. R. L. MA CONTRACTOR RSHALL AND BUILDER Will furnish plans and specifications or will follow any plans and specifications furnished. BUNGALOWS A SPECIALTY. el me rhow you some Lakelond homes I have built. LAKY LAND, Phone 267-Graen. FLORIDA Live Where Yuu Will Like Your Neighbors Wea wre excrcising great care to aeti our ROSEDALE lots only to the hent cines of people. Thus we give you desirabls neighbors in addition tc ROSEDALE'’S other attratcions ‘Wide strects, shade trees, fertile set! vulldlng restrictions. y. one block east oy SMITH & Inside the from Jake Mo~ STEITZ and G. C. ROGAN Deen-Brrant Building Whataver you want in rea lestste. wq have it WE HAMMER OUT SATISFACTION. i #ith every set of horse shoes we put| i pu. For we make the shoes fit the #rel, Tot the feet fit the shoes as is| ference this makes send your horses| aere 1o be shod next time. You'll be amazed at the improvement in his guit and temper. The Fix-em Shop Pige Street, Opposite Freight Office. WE WILL MAIL YOU $1 for each set of old False Teethsent US. Highest prices paid for old Gold. Silver, old Watches, Broken Tewelry and Precious Stones Money Sent By Return Mail Phila. Smelting & Refining Co. ESTABLISHED 20 YEARS $63 Chestnut St., Philadelphia, Pa. TO DENTISTS We will buy your Gold Filings, Gold Scrap, and Platinum. High- ect prices paid. i ———— Suffered for His Knowledge. For arguing that our world is only one of many, Giorddano Bruno was burned to death in Rome ia 1600. | HOUSE AT CROSSROAD Priscilla Found Lots of Friends at Old Home. By MARIE R. WHITING. As the afternoon train wheezed into the station at Prattsville, a woman stepped out on the rear platform as if eager to finish her journey. She had barely reached middle age, but the vears had not passed by her lightly, and the lines of her countenanceindicated a temper rnot sweetening with the seas- ons. As if shaking the dust of travel forever from her feet, she stepped briskly to the station door and looked about her. It was not a pleasing prospect—the low, one-room building, and about ft, flelds burned a dull brown. while to the south, the road leading to thel village shimmered in the summer heat. At the lower end of the plat. form was a carryall, harnessed to a white horse. The driver. a thin, wiry man in blue overalls, met the new- comer's stare uneasily. “Be you Miss Baxter?” doubtfully. “*Tain't written on me anywhere, is it?" she returned. “lI dunno but what ‘tis written on your face. The Baxters all have a look alike. If you're Fannle Baxter, I'll drive you right down to the cross- reads. | came down a-purpose for that.” “Some folks never know their busi- ness. Do you think you are here to meet me?” she returned. “I've been here every day for two weeks. She asked me to. You just make yourself comfortable and I'll hand your trunk over.” “Mind you don't smash what's left of it" she called after him, as she climbed stiffly into the back seat. “I reckon Frances is as good name as FFannie.” she said to herself. “and If she don't get around to ride in her own carryall she must expect somebody else will.” As they jogged slowly down the dusty road, Miss Baxter closed her eyes and tried to rest. Her journey half way across the continent had left her nearly exhausted, and she was too weary to try to understand the driver's chatter. “WIll you stop talking nonsense and drive me to a respectable boarding- place?” she asked. Mr. Slocum threw the reins over the dashboard and turned about with an infured alr. “This s a free ride,” he sald with some dignity. “I'm do- ing it for her sake and for her sake I won't take you further'n this house for any amount of money.” “I reckon we've got a weary spell of sitting, then” and Miss Baxter leaned back on the faded cushions, as It prepared to walt the day of judg- ment. “You're welcome to it,” said Mr. Slooum, making himself comfortable on the front eeat. As the afternoon shadows grew longer, Miss Baxter had plenty of time to survey the house. It seemed to her that she had never seen so pretty a cottage. It surely was & shame to have it idle. To find a place Iltke that for herself had been her dream coming east. If only she dared -but Mr. Slocum's voice interrupted her thoughts “Here comes the minister down the road. 1 know his colt. Suppose we leave this difference to him. If he says stay, why vou get out, and if he says drive on, U'll take you wherever you want to go.” “I'm willing," agreed Miss Baxter. “It does seem a pity for a likely place to go to ruin. standing empty " As the roan came nearer, Miss Bax- ter sat up very primly. At last, she told herself, her assertion that she had no right to the house would bg regarded, but to her surprise the min- ister answered slowly: “Sister Baxter, your feelings do you credit, but holy people at their death have visions, and she said you'd surely come. She wanted it above all earthly things. The whole village will be glad you've taken the house.” Miss Baxter had never been dishon. ost but the allurement of the cottage was strong upon her. For a moment she hesitated then she stepped brisk- out of the carryall “I tell you what M do.” she said “I hate to see things going to ruin and I'll lve in the house and keep the place up. 1'll pay a fair rent to the minister and he can put f§ fn the bank against the day when he thinks | have no right here. As long as 1 stay, ! am to be let alone and no questions asked.” “If you are as honest as that, vou must be some it~ her after 41" commented Mr. Slocum. “but ain't it a queer idea about the money?” “When | make a bargain 1 mean it, questions and all Does every one in Prattville talk all the time? You can fetch my trunk right in; I'll say eood evening to you both,” and the iwo men were left alone, a trifle bevwild- ered by the turn affairs had taken Within the house, Miss Baxter went | slowly from rcom to room. Surely | she had never hoped for so pleasant he asked |a home. At last she sat down be the front window and tried to mak. her good fortune seem real. She wag aroused by a light step on the ¢ old, and 2 sweet-faced woman stood in the doorway “Don’t get up,” said the stranger. “I'm Priscilla West. your nearest neighbor Ben Slocum told me fou'q come, and I'm so glad you are in the house.” “You'll find lots of friends ready made, waiting to “ive you the wel- come for her sal. T brought you over just a little 12 " ~ome biscuits and honey and cold ham and caraway cesh- cokies. 1 hope you like caraway ookies; she always did” “l thank you kindly for the food. 11 1 seem a livde touchy, perhaps my trip has something to do with it.” “Of course it has," returned the wmt voice of Priscilla West, od night’ “Of course it hasn't,” commented Mise Dusier to herself, as she went inte the house. “There isn’t a place in the world where you're welcome for your own sake, and you know it.” \With sunset a breeze sprang up | from the south and the air grew cocier. How light the biscuits were, and how sweet the honey! Ready- made friends! From the west win- dow Miss Baxter.could see a gray wall. She wondered what it enclosed. Perhaps she would go to the brow of the hill and make sure. As she walked down the lane that entcred the churchyard, a little boy rosc irom the side of a newly-made { grave, picked up a crutch and stood | looking at her with wide open eyes. Miss Baxter felt vaguely uneasy. {“What are you doing here?” she asked. | “I've been planting a sweet briar. | She loved the smell of them in the 5rmn. Are you the lady that's going {to live in the houso?” | “I'm going to stay a spell, if no one | turns me out.” “She used to tell me stories. She sald you would. Wil you?”’ Miss Baxter started. She had'never i told a story to a child in her Nfe. Here was another of the ready-made friends. “I don't know,” she said, “Perhaps so. |Come over tomorrow and we'll talk it over.” Summer passed into autumn, the au- tumn brought winter in its train, the alr grew sweet with the promise of spring and still Miss Baxter dwelt un- molested in the house by the cross roads. Of the mystery of that life and death so strangely liaked with hers,’ she understood but lttle. The village folks soon learned that she would neither listen to nor speak of it. Their testimony that the place had i never looked so well, and the money, steadily growing in the minister’s care, served as balm when her con- sclence stirred uneasily. One evening in the long twilight, Miss Baxter climbed the hill to the churchyard to see if the flowers were sprouting on the grave she had grov.n to look upon as hers. As she rose from handling the moist earth, a wo- man stood leaning on a neighboring stone, watching her. Miss Baxter took a step backward; a stalk of sweet- briar broke and fell to the ground. Strangers seldom visited Prattville, and the cemetery was a mile and a halt from the village. The newcomer wore a bright plaid walst and neat hat, but her shoes and skirt were solled with mud, and she clung to the stone as 1t exhausted. “Are you related to her?” asked Miss Baxter, pointing to the mound at her feet. “I'm Fannie,” answered the stranger with a touch of deflance. I came back to see about the property. I don't suppose she left any for me, and I don't need it, but I came back to see. Did she leave any messages for mo?” “Yes, she left messages, and the house, and friends, ready-made friends. My name is Frances Baxter; I've been keeping things for you. When did you come?” “Today, on the afternoon train, and I walked around by the back road. No one saw me. When I got to the crossroads you came out of the house and | rollowed you here. Did she say anything about forgiving me?" Then it was that a great purpose and desire filled Miss Baxter's soul. If she could comfort and care for this weary sister, if she could see her througi to the end of her brief earth- ly journey, then in very truth, she could claim as partly hers that life that was sleeping just over the brow of the hill. “Suppose you stay with me a spell and sort of visit. We can say you're my cousin, and both of us belonging to her that's lying yonder makes us some related, I reckon. You'd like it here. It's pretty, sightly place, and summer's coming on. I'm a lonely soul here and you're a lonely soul in the efty. We'd kind of be a blessing to each other, and be living more the way folks was intended to live.” “I've been pining for the old place for ten years, but I hadn’t the courage to come back, and now it's too late. Many's the time I've got as far as the station to take the train. You don't know what you're asking. I ain’t very strong nter very cheerful. Some- times I have the horrors. Nobody in Prattville would take me in." Fannie’s hat had fallen to the floor, and the lamplight. streaming over her bowed head. secmed to glorify it in a lkindl,\' halo of repentance. Miss Bax- ter bent forward. and gently. with her “You ain't looking at it right,” she spid softly. “It's vou that'll be tak- ing me in. I've lived in your house and used your thin and enjoyed vour friends. 1 never had any friends before and it's made a different wo- man of me giving a chance to pay back just a { little of all I'm owing you and all I'm owing her? Just think how it would please her if you'd stay. She said | you'd live in the house. and holy peo- ple at their death have visions. Those were *he minister’'s words. Can't vou see your way clear to stay with me —Cousin Fannie? The bowed head slowly lifted and the lamplight poured Its pitying rays on the flushed cheeks and sunken eyes. “l guess YOU are right. please Rosamond. Cousin Frances.” s t, 1912, by the (Copyrigh lr.‘uun News- It wanld IM stay a sp. lps. touched the faded brown hair. | Don't you e you'd be - Subscribe for The Telegra e OMOKE.... A .H.T. CIGARS A. H. T. CIGAR Lakeland, Florida CO. We Won’t Sacrifice Quality but we are always studying how to Increase The Quantity We give the "most now but we are anxious to give more. Phone us and prove it. Best Butter, perpound . .. ............. P a% o iy ei el Sugar, 16 pounds . .................. R R 100 Cottolene, 10 pound pails.........c......n. B Cottolene, 4-pound pails. e 80 Snowdrift, 10-pounl pails. . T | 4 cans family size Cream........... R ANE R RG a 4] 7 cans baby size Cream.......... R SR 1-2 barrel best Flour..... 12 pounds test Flour......... - R ] Picnic Hams, per pound ..............cooeeeennvamone... 1212 Cudahy’s Uncanvassed Hams. ....... 18 Octagon Soap, 6 for...........cc..vm.... v 8 Ground Coffee, per pound. . Sk aes v LA § gallons Kerosene ...... 60 E. G. Tweedell I Well Laundered | LINEN | <<+ | Is the pride of the gced housewife and the ' clean cut man or womén .Here you have the ! care that makes rou a constan: customer. We ! aim at being the “Laundry that is different” YOUR OWN SPECIAL LAUNDRY. Try Us Today—Just Once. | S an | Lakeland Steam Laundry | Phone J30. West Main St. | |