Lakeland Evening Telegram Newspaper, August 11, 1913, Page 2

A TR e i b » make children’s hair cutting a specialty. We are familiar with all the latest styles. Bring us yoar boys and girls. Lakelandhasone of of the largest barber shops in the State “THE PHOENIX” L. E. PEACOCK Proprietor l The Protesslons . 53 GANVEL ¥, SMETR EFBEALE, l Smigper Bulidiag, Over Fustytiey Fheno 388 Restionce Phone 006 BN LAKERANS, P& m WA DENT fieitiabed In Sk, DeM B vn 14 and 18 Fonenaly s Phonas: OFca 108; Rewdwmer B . 0. C. WILSON— PHYSICIAN AND SURGEOR Oeen-Bryant Bldg., Suite §. Phonoe 57. ¥IM EVINING TELEGRAM, LAK ELAND, FLA.,; AUG. 11, 1913. WHY SUFFER With that old sore that's never easy day nor night, when it can be cured for atrifle. Makes no dif- ference how old the sore may be, it can be cured. For particulars, write to P.0.Box 440 Lakeland, Fla It you figure on getting full val- ue for yeur meney insist ea haviag CEMENT CONPTRVUCTION You'll figure right thea_¢ will mean & Dbetter lecking resuld, the cheapest aloe in the long rua. @ot our flures on the SIDEWALKS, CBLLAR, PINDNG, GURBS, FOUNDAYTION, FENOES. Lakeland Artificial 1Stone Weorks H. B. Zimmerman, Prop. [OR DRUGS Surgical Goeds, Household and Sick Room Sup- plies go te Lake Pharmacy Bryan's Drug Store We wil' send them up te you and will try te treat .|you right, PHONE 42 Our Display of watehes, locketa, chaing, e . bresehes, ¢'o.. 1o nedlssadle for pertost tante as well 0o sebf-eves- o%0d quality. The Jewelry we haadle is the kind that ewec ues to give mtistaction ne ma how long it Is worn. & you G- i® give emeiiing of permanent v . oup came will supply 10 . C. Stevens L.W. YARNELL TRANSFER LINES Draying aad Hauliag of ALl Ko Prempt and Reassaadly Bervise Snarnaieed Phoue 17 Q@reen Lobsdens, e T —— o GRANDMOTHER'S DESK Old Love Letter the Newly Weds Found in a Secret Drawer. By FRANK FILSON. Grandmother Penderby was one of those sweet-faced, silvery haired old ladies who seems to have stepped straight out of the pages of some sev- enteenth century novel. She ruled by love, but unquestionably, in the old house at Lynbrook. Nobody would ever have dreamed of disobeying or thwarting Grandmother Penderby. Even “Squire” Penderby, hot-headed and impetuous as he was, had never done that. One glance from grandmother, one wave of the uplifted finger, and the Squire was reduced to & condition of trembling obedience. That was why the quarrel between Mildred, the old lady’s granddaughter, and her fiance, Will Hurlbut, was made up so quickly. They had been engaged two years and they were to be married at Christmas. But Will had been attentive to another girl—at least, so Mildred fancied—and harsh words left harsher feelings iu their wake; and the end of it was that Mildred threw her ring at Will and ‘Will clapped on his hat and slammed the door. “Quarreled? Did you say you and ‘Will had quarreled, Mildred?” exclaim- ed her grandmother that evening, when she had succeeded in forcing an explanation of her grandchild’s tear- stained face and dejected spirits. “How can a girl quarrel with the man she is engaged to marry?” “Because I have found out that he is false,” sobbed Mildred unhappily.| that some impulse will draw you hith- “He—he—he didn’t love me; he has never cared for me at all.” “He cared for you enough to offer you his hand and name, Mildred,” re- plied her grandmother. *«‘ “Didn’t You Ever Break an Engage ment, Grandmamat” sume that you had seme Imewledge of his nature and dispesition befere you aecepted him?”’ “T was decaived,” said Mildred. “AN | as it is nowadays,” he seld. girls may be deceived. We elaim the right to aet for eurselves mewadays. It isn't like it was whem you were young and women had ne pewer of fitiative. ‘Dida’t yeu ever break am engagement, grandmamma?”’ The old lady’s eheoks had suddenly grown scarlet. “From the day whem I accepted Mr. Penderby,” she said, “my will was his will and his wishes were mine, and I placed the most im- plicit trust in him.” 8o the quarrel ended, becawse that evening, when Will came back in a penitent mood, Grandmamma Pender by led him straight inte Mildred's boudoir, and made Mildred put her hand in Will's, and then wisely went out and left them together. And tem minutes later, when they appeared be- fore her, as she sat in her chair, knitting, the faces of both were ra- diant. The Penderby homestead was one of those quaint, eld-fashioned houses that are still to be found, here and there, upon the very borders of our modern cities. It was full of little nooks and closets, and its attics were stacked with the accumulated debris of generations: old trunks, old furni- ture, old papers. A week before their marriage, Grandmother Penderby, who had been rummaging in what she called. her private store room, ap- peared before Mildred and Will, flushed and triumphant. In her arms she bore a heavy, old-fashioned writ- ing desk. “This is to be one of my wedding presents to you children,” she said. “And don't turn up your noses at it, elther of you, because my mother thought enough of it to give it to me when I was e ] . Mildred had often seen the little desk, but instinctively she had re- frained from tampering with it. She knew that grandmother valued it highly—so highly that she had never allowed it to be used, but had kept it on the high shelf among her most eherished treasures. She had always Suspected that some of grandmother’s treasured relics were kept hidden in ft. But when she opened it it was empty, and only the faint odor of dead rose leaves betrayed the fact that #t had contained anything but dust. “We'll keep—what R, WIll?™ Mildred asked. “Our love letters,” responded win, “And I pre- | that you will bestow your priceless revealing a little, flat compartment im- promptly. “That fs, it it is big enough. But isn't it strange, Millie, that a desk of this size should have such a very small interior? It almost looks as though it might contain & secret drawer.” “There does seem to be a lot of space underneath the drawer,” said Mildred, fingering the edges of the desk. “Why, Will, it rings quite hol- low. Just tap it and listen.” It certainly did ring hollow. And it did seem as though there were some second drawer under the first. But the cunningly arranged veneex:lng gave no evidences of any opening. Will tapped and tapped in vain, “] guess there isn't any secret drawer, Millie,” sald Will, and set the desk down upon the table with a bang. And then a curious thing hap- pened. The jar apparently set some long devised spring to working, for the whole front of the desk flew open, mediately beneath the drawer. A single sheet of yellow paper, cov- ered with faded writing, lay there. Will looked at it and then snatched it up and began reading. “Will!” exclaimed Mildred reprow ingly. “But I must read it,” he exclaimed. “Look at this signature—it is that of my grandfather, Ebenezer Hurlbut It may be some long-lost will. But it was no will. It was a letter addressed to Grandmother Penderby, and it ran as follows: “My Dearest Own Elizabeth: “Your cruel words to me today, though they have sorely wounded me, cannot quench the passion for you that burns in my bosom. So, since you have said that this unhappy mis- understanding of ours must end our engagement, since you have forbid me to approach the shrine and alter of my devotion, I shall place this within your mother's writing desk, hoping er, to open the little drawer you once showed me, and to find this outpour- ' ing of my soul. Elizabeth, you cannot { mean that we must part for ever, self upon that dullard, Nat Enderby, | for when your marriage bells ring out my life will become unbearable to me and I shall end this wretched exist- | ence. Without you, life will become . impossible. | “Tiil time shall end, thine, | “Ebenezer Hurlbut. “Jan. 24, 1857 Will Hurlbut folded up the paper | and looked at Mildred. Her eyes were moist and her lips were quivering. “It must have lain there unnoticed these fifty years and more,” she said. “We must not let her know, now.” “No,” answered Will, and, tearing the paper into strips, he let them flut- ter slowly out of the open window. “Will,” sald Mildred, presently, “do you remember the date ef your grand: father's marriage?” “It was in the spring of 1858, I think—it must have beem, because my father was born that Christmas.” “And grandinother was married in the sammer of 1887. It didn't last long, this desperate passion, Will? But, dearest, do you know what grand: mother teld me once—it wase just after our stupid quarrel? That when she was yeung no girl ever dreamed of quarreling with the man she was en- gaged te marry.” Wil laughed as he kissed her. “Oh, well, I guess that human nature was pretty much the same in those times “But, Mildred, dearest—" “win?” | “Think how lucky i is for us she ldldn‘t marry your grandfather. Be ‘ causs that would have made us cous ins—and marriage between cousins is | impossible in this state.” (Copyright, 1913, by W. G. Chapnfhn.) WOLF’S LIVER TO CURE COLD Remarkable Prescriptions Handed Dewn to Present Age From Days of Superstition, Pliny, the Roman writer, prescribed various remedies for eoughs and colds. These include wolf's liver, dissolved in hot wine, honey mixed with the gall of & bear and powders made from rabbit skins and bullocke’ horns burned and pounded together. Another is to wrap any of one's fingers in the skin of a freshly killed dog. Tree frogs, too, are exeelleat for all forms of catarrh. Place ene im the mouth for a minute, and when he makes his escape he takes that cough with him. No harm is done te the frog, for coughing and croaking are all the same to him. For a cold in the head Pliny advises & simple yet infallible remedy—three kieses on the mouth of a mule. In the spring the cuckoo's first call of the season formerly played a great part in love divinations. A common English belief was that an unmarried person hearing a cuckoo eall and jm- mediately taking off boots and. stock- ings would find on the great toe of the right foot a hair, whose color would be that of the poll of the destined lover, Another idea, mentioned by Milton, and persisting till this day, was that an unmarried man or maid would re- main single for just as many years as the number of the cuckoo’s calls when first heard in the spring. How many stones in the Druidical circle at Keswick, Eng.? One antl- quarian says 48, but other mathema- ticlans give different and varying esti- mates, A favorite number is 38, Suparstitious natives declare that the lofty circle is haunted by fairies, who bring to naught the efforts of the pro- Mhhkoumolmomenum '“They can’t be counted,” shall we keep in Suide, “however long you . try.” e ————— About the time & man gets too old bdomuhobqhhdofin; e You wish to achieve it of course— Remember though that it's emly ene case in a thousand where it is achieved without CASH CAPITAL. If*you start banking your surplus earnings instead of spending them ou will not alore safeguard your fu- ture but also place yourself in the tront rank of those ready to seize opportunity when it comes your way. Three per cent, interest paid. s o) S RS —— OF LAKELAND FLA PURE |CE FOR LAKELAND PEOPLE The ICE I am handling is made ,, well water and double distilled. It is not a question of quantity, QUALITY. kind of ice they must stand by me. . L. W. YARNELI W. K. Jackson-asecutes- W, K, M Owner and Manufac- turers’ Agent . Brokerage--Real Estate Tell|Us What You Have to Sell, Tell Us What You Wantto Buy; Rooms 6 and 7, DEEN & BRYANT Building | Lakeland Security Abstract '&'llitle‘ Compd Announcesithat it is{ now ready for businessland can [farnish promptly,complete and reliable abstracts of the title to any rea! We Will Try to Find & Buyer We Will Try to Find a Seller » » estate in Polk County. SECURITY ABSTRACT & THTLE ( : “Miller Building, Bast BARTOW If the people wish Side Square 'FLORI/ (his Real Estat Flork —