Lakeland Evening Telegram Newspaper, September 9, 1914, Page 8

_—___——-———-—'_—'_________________ " By FRED BURNS. 000000000000000000000000 There was a gap of three weeks in the life of John Clements. At first it had been of years, but these narrowed | down to months and then to weeks. Those three weeks always remained, and, till the end of his days, they re- mained a blank to him. Patrolman Thomas had found bim standing beside the river in a dazed sort of way. He had taken off his ,coat and evidently meant to plunge in. He had even cut the initials from his linen and destroyed all papers that might identify him. But at the river's bank that lapse of memory overtook him, so that he only stared stupidly about him, unable to understand who he was or why he had gone there. At the hospital they said that it was a case of amnesia, due to some shock, and that in time Clements would re- cover his memory. Gradually he did recover it. He re- membered that he was John Clements, but not till a number of other details had come back to him. Nurse Marjorie Eltham was in charge of him. He was a paying pa- tient and had got back into touch with his affairs. But nobody in Aylmer knew much about his private affairs. “There is one man who knows all about me,” said Clements, during the third week of his stay in the hospital. “But I don't know who he is or where he lives.” Miss Eltham was at first greatly in- terested in her strange case. Then & strong friendship grew up between her and her patient. charged, cured as far as he was ever likely to be, Clements asked Marjorie to marry him. She refused, and, when he pressed her, she admitted that she loved him. “Then why?" he asked. “Because of those three lost weeks,” she answered, turning her head away. “When you remember, dear—not till then.” He understood her fears. He might be a married man. He had no right to claim her until his memory came back to him. So Clements went away, back to his business. He kept in touch with Mar- jorle. If ever his memory came back to him he was to claim her. That was tacitly understood by both. He found it easy to pick up the thread of his interests. Gradually the old associations grew round him again. But his memory remained a blank. At the end of a year he realized that he would never remember. Then he went back to Marjorie. Clements took her out to dinner, and, that night, he asked her again to be his wife. Marjorie agreed. They were mar- ried the following afternoon and went away on their honeymoon. Clements 'learned many things dur~ ing that period. His wife was alone in the world. Her only sister had died under tragic circumstances a year be- fore. She was unhappily married, and a man had come into her life who seemed everything to her. Marjorie had tried to dissuade her sister—had threatened to tell her husband of the projected elopement. Then Caroline had taken the bit between her teeth. She had run away, and, on the way to meet her lover, the train had been wrecked. She had been killed instant- ly. Since then Marjorie had seen noth- ing of her brotherin-law. “What was the man’s name?” asked John. Marjorie did not know. They returned from their honey- *$ SRk A% “Moose- Heart” Our Orphans’ Home, New Vocational and Industrial School at Mooseheart, 111 1l This institution a to the members and GRAND OPPORTUNITY— BB S0k IS 8 cexy O perfected whereby any member or his family who may desire to be something grea SFON D ENCECOURSE along chosen lines, while fol- lowing their present occupation. DEPARTMENTS —Nursery, emic and Scientific, Music and Art, Scientific Farming and Jorticulture, Commercial Lz las over a AND A IE Benefi MOOSEDOM ! Assets, THRE Sick and Accident tains excellent social Charter Fee only $25.00. Over United States; over ARE YOU A MEMBER? SUIBBLI L B DD BPHUSLID See .C. J. Loomis GRS fi Before he was dis- | Science, and many other branches. privileges and JUST THINK ‘WHAT THESE ADVANTAGES MEAN. Half WAHY NOT JOIN THE BUNCH? TAKE ADVANTAGE AND BEGIN TO ENJOY LIFE. At DAD HINES’ HOTEL — py, and, but for that period of blank- ness in his mind, John was a normal man. He was highly esteemed in his city and spoken of as the next mayor. One day when John was away & stranger called at the house. Mar- ' jorie received him with an attempt at warmth which hardly hid her real feel- _ings. It was her brother-in-law. | He was no warmer than Marjorie. “I have just learned the facts,” he said, “and I thought I would run down and see your husband. I found his letters in my late wife’s drawer.” John Clements was the man who had been the unwitting cause of her sister’s death. i “Of course, I have read about the | case,” he said, “but I guess he'll know me all right when he sees me.” Marjorie fought a fearful battle dur- ing those few minutes. John's love for her, his loyalty, showed her that he was a good man; but the thought that he had been the cause of her sis- ' ter's death, that he had made love to the wife of another, was galling to her pride. “Roger,” she said at last, “you have a right to meet my husband. Stay to dinner and, if he remembers you, say { what you please. That is your right.” “1 guess he'll know me,” answered the other, scowling. It seemed an eternity before John Clements came up the garden and into | the house. At his approach Roger sprang from his chair with clenched fists, scowling at the other man. “John, this is my brotherin-law,” sald Marjorie. John Clements advanced with out- stretched hand. “I am happy to meet you, sir,” he said simply. { And in the pause that followed Roger realized that his enemy had slipped through his grasp. He turned | aside. ; | “Marjorie,” he sald later, “I guess | we have both had our punishment | after all.” (Cooyright, 1914, by W. G. Chabmand Elastics Under Knee Bands. 1t it 1s necessary to have elastics in the knee bands of bloomers or rompers that are to be bolled when washed, it | will be found convenicnt, inetead of sewing the ends together, to sew to one end a snap hook, and to the other end an eye. The elastic can then be drawn out before washing. To inbert it agaln, tie a string into the eye and thread this into the tape needle. HARNESS HEADQUARTERS The place to get harness at harness headquarters. \We have ev- erything needed to ride or drive a horse and of good quality at rcason- able prices, From the heaviest team harness to the lizhtest buggy har- ness this is headquarters. Special attention to repair work of all kinds. Mc 1 ASHAN is SISRHPIHBHIHECHBOEB BRIt O 1070 O LOTDIDNDH What the MOOSE Are Doing D s ies AT AP ADCAI A e AP ffords Iree-Education their families. G g Arrangements will shortly be g ter, may purste a CORRE= Vocational Education, Acad- ww and Bookkeeping, Domestic HALF MILLION mem bers, ALF MILLION DOLLARS. ts. Fundral Benefits. Main- en‘ortainments. PO SO $5.00; Regular Fee Million Members in 6,000 in Florida. T PP DB , District Director g % $ 2 g OO THE SEVEN RECORDS By RICHARD BARKER SHELTON. [———————————— (Copyright.) There were many coaflicting rumore ! afloat concerning old Bill Driggs. . Some said there was untold wealth , concealed beneath the floors of the dismal little house where he had lived quite alone for more than half a cen- | tury; some said he was practicailly a ; pauper, living scantily on the meager pension the government granted him, | as a disabled veteran. ears, he paid no attention to them; he ' neither confirmed nor denied. He lived the life of a recluse in his little weath- erbeaten house on the outskirts of the town; puttered about the little garden in which he raised his own vegetables; smoked his black clay pipe, and read the papers, which he hobbled into town thrice a week to procure. He loft the world to its own de vices, and expected the world to do as' much for him in return. His excessive economy extended even to his words; he spoke seldom, and then bluntly and , to the point. It was said he never for- got an injury and never forgave one. In the autumn of his sixty-ninth year old Bill Driggs was stricken with paralysis, which left him with a pair of useless legs. It was a question as to who should look after him—his sole , relative, a nephew, or the overseers of the poor. The nephew was well to do. He _ownod a grocery and a comfortable house on one of the pretentious streets of the town. It was probably the fear of gossip- , ing tongues, rather than any prompt- ings of kinship, that induced the nephew to take the old man in— grudgingly, it is true, for he had no faith in the reports of his uncle's wealth. Old Bill turned over to his nephew the ramshackle house, the two acres of land and his pension, by way of pay- ing his board for the rest of his life. Then he settled down to pass, as best he might, the helpless, unhappy years that must intervene until the end. And those were unhappy years to old Bill Driggs. There was no attempt in his nephew’s household to conceal the fact that the old man was an unwelcome burden. Old Bill's keen gray eyes and his sharp old ears saw and heard far more than his thin lips ever told. Three years his unwilling existence at his nephew’s house dragged on; and then, one October day, the bitter ness of his heart merged into a great, unending peace. Old Bill died. A month before his death old Bill sent for a lawyer, and for several days the attorney was closeted with him. The nephew, recalling the rumors of the old man’s wealth, covertly endeav- ored to draw the lawyer out; but the lawyer was politely vague in his re- plies. The old man opened his heart to him and disclosed all its rankling discontent and bitterness. A few days after old Bill's funeral the lawyer cadled at the house and placed in the aephew’s bands what was probably the longest message old Driggs had ever dictated. Horace Driggs burriedly broke the seals, and read as follows: Nephew Horace: I am not the peuniless pauper you think me. my treatment here in your house would be vastly different from that which is now accorded me. But that is neither here nor there. In the course of my life I have managed to make—and better yet to save—some lt- tle money. This | have placed in negotia- ble bonds. @ All told, there 13 semething lke 150,000 worth of them. Thek dre stored In a tin | trunk, and where that trunk is no one but | myself knows. I have decided to leave these bonds to you. I do this from precisely the same reason that led you to take me into your home when I was old and broken and helpless—not from any ties of love or kin- ship, but simply because there seems nothing else to do. Moreover, I do this in the same spirit in which you ('@ vour part—grndgingly. you find ttem. are you will get in this way. Upon receipt of tihis you will go to the ofMee of Wadsworth & Barstow, my law- yurs, graph. 1 have also left in their ch.rge seven phionographic records of my volce. Bix of thess will mevely impart to you some good advice. The seventh will glve you the clue to the whereabouts of the | trunk. On every twenty-third of November—the versary of the day I became a mem- of your family—you are to go to worth & Barstow's and select one of tecords—only one, remember. If you try to gain possession of them in any way save the one 1 have stipulated, I have the attorney’'s promise under oath to desiroy them all. You will select one each yeur 1 ntil yon have chosen the one that locates ti:e bonds. WILLIAM DRIGGS. Ncvember twenty-third of that year urd licrace Driggs in a flutter of ex- »ment. Very early in the morning ‘ndeed, as scon as the lawyer’s ofice was open—he hurried to Wadsworth & Eursi and from seven uniform 2 res he selected one. iie hastened home, and with fever ish eagerness he placed the record in the phonograph. The machine buzzed on for some time with no articulate sound. Then from the horn came the deep ones of his uncle’s volce. He listened breathlessly. t “Never judge a man from his out-: ward appearance— Try again next' That was all. | year, my dear Horace.” He snatched the record from the machine and hurled it into the fire- place. Although he had fully expected ft, the disappointment was bitter. A year to a man in his position seemed eons long. It these rumors ever reached his’ I doubt not, if you knew the truth, The trunk and the bonds are yours when | Tho clue as to where they ! who will deliver to you a phono-' e ey The second November twenty-third brought him no more luck in his choice of records. “Never kick a man when he seems to be down— Perhaps you'll get it next year,” croaked the deep volce from the phonograph. i But the third and fourth trials were fruitless—save for the posthumous jeers and jibes with which the eager’ ears of the expectant heir were annu-, ally assailed. Horace Driggs began to fret impa- tiently. A hundred and fifty thousand dollars, his by right, yet tied up in this unearthly fashion! Surely he must select the right record soon.! There were but three lett. He began to spend money more freely. He felt he could afford more of the luxuries of life with one hun- dred and fifty thousand dollars all but in his grasp. When he went to Wads- worth & Barstow's for the fifth con- secutive November twenty-third, bis little store of savings had melted quite away. Agaln he made an infelicitous choice. The record gave no clue to the trunk's location. The ensuing year he launched out boldly. He mortgaged his house. He ran in debt. But what man would wor- ry over such trifles with one hundred and fifty thousand dollars’ worth of negotiable bonds looming on tke hori- zon? He purchased a thoroughbred trot- ter and an automobile. His wife was the best-dressed woman in town. On the next November twenty-third, from but two records, he managed to choose the wrong one. All the following year he comforted himself with the assurance that the strain was over. There was but one record left, and that record gave the location of the bonds. He had but to wait patiently until November twenty- third to be independent for the rest of his lite. He sold his grocery business—its routine had become irksome to him— tor several thousand dollars, and, with bis wife, spent a delighttul spring and summer touring England and the con- tinent. Upon his return he joined the Coun- try club and gave five hundred dollars to the town library fund. In a burst of enthusiasm ‘over the approach of bis good fortune, he even erected a costly granite sarcophagus over old Bill Driggs’ neglected grave. The autumn waned, November drew to a close and on the afternoon of the twenty-third Horace Driggs wended his leisurely way to the office of Wads- worth & Barstow to secure the last re- maining record. As he made his way homeward with the little parcel in his pocket, he was aware of a pleasant sense of relief. The long, trying waiting was over. Tomorrow the bonds would be his. According to the standards of the town, he would be a rich man. He lighted the lamp on the library table and set the phonograph beside it. Very carefully he adjusted the last record, and started the machine. In- stantly the deep voice from the horn filled the room. “At last you have chosen the right one. Listen to me a moment before I tell you where the trunk is hidden.” “Certainly; with all my heart,” said Driggs under his breath, bowing to- wards the machine with exaggerated politeness. “You made my life a burden while ,T lived under your roof. You thought me a helpless pauper. You begrudged me the very food I ate.” Horace Driggs winced. ‘He might have treated the old chap with more decency, that was a fact! “Yes now you listen eagerly. You are all impatience for me to tell you where the trunk lies.” “Egad, that's true enough!” tered Horace. “By strange chance the Psalmist has | described the location of that trunk. Turn to the one hundred and fifty-first Psalm—the last verse. And may you enjoy the bonds as much as I hate tell- ing you where they are. Psalm one . hundred and fifty-one!” { There was something like a grim ' chiuckle. The record was finished. Horace Driggs caught up a Bible and, with trembling, impatient fin- gers, turned the pages. What he found there any one may readily learn who will simply take the trouble to look up the Psalm mentioned. mut- Turk's Business Letter. Charlie Conrad, a business man in ! the national capital, employed a Turk | a8 a servant in his house after hav- ing been discouraged by numerous ex- | periments with the average run of ! servants. The Turk was exceedingly industrious, and devoted his spare | time to the study of the English lan- | guage. One day Charlle received this let- ter from him: “Dear Sir—In this little time at to- day | saw a good positions against me. I am very far of my country but 1 not felt that among your family. can't forget this politeness. I very grateful but my money weekly it is Dot sufficient for me because i 'pay my room and electric car and with rest { can't live. “I ask seven and one-half dollars per week of the next week. I believe you will find this same lines in my sincere sensation.”—Popular Maga- zine. 1 Modern Warfare. “Who is that young fellow sur- rounded by an admiring crowd?” “That’s a soldier who has seen serv- fce in Mexico.” “You mean he fought down there?” “No. He pitched some baseball games and carried off several prises in athletic contests.” | | i i MILLINERY FOR FALL SOME SPECULATION AS TO THE COMING STYLES. It Would Seem That Nothing Has Been Absolutely Determined as to Whether the Small or the Large Hat Is to Rule. Soclety at large has been watching the development of fall millinery fashions with so much interest that the debut of every model has been awaited with much anxiety as well as excitement. Numerous rumors and conflicting cpinions declare for the continuance of the small styled hats permitted to endure in new and ravishing shapes. Absolutely new, declares every wit- iiess, and, numerically in the ascend- ency, agree onlookers. Nevertheless, leading milliners, whose small hats enchant one with the daintiness of their chic and the smartness of their design, are issuing wide-brimmed hats of black velvet, with here and there a gray or a dark brown shape of this material. The velvet crowned hat, with wide- ly curving brim of illusion, chiffon or lace, has been worn for a month. Watchful persons have greeted this style without the flicker of an eyelld of interest. But when the velvet- brimmed hat_appesred in one of the THE EVENING TELEGRAM LAKELAND, FLA., SEPT. 9, 1914. T e ——— e g——— ey | | Georgette sallor effects, brandysy, | sweeping plumes of paradise o, | trimming, and when Lewls almog o) | plicates the shape with bushy g | for a trimming fantasy, then the i tient ones whose businees it is oy, ! ald the approach of a new vogye, | | gan to show signs of excitement 7, [ discussion of a new vogue is op, | In the main and for the pr the small hat of velvet, high-crow) and snippily trimmed, 1s enjoyiy, | most flattering popularity. The shepherdess hat of velvet 5 the fashionable offing, continuing | vogue of the summer but along g lines. : Picturesque modes offer crowns of velvet to which are afiyl wide undulating brims of the gy material which narrow over the g but broaden considerably at the sijq and extend in pointed fashion over ¢ hair at the back. Trimmings for these shapes are g ple in the extreme. 8ingle flower ¢ fects, made of velvet and with th natural size greatly exaggerated effectively placed with a bit of folts in color rather than in the naty greens which one expects to see company them. Sapphires Stylish. Chains of unset sapphires, each p divided by a baroque pearl, are th latest thing, if expense i8 no cons eration. These chains are flung arou the neck and allowed to fall low ovw the dress in front. Sbidddit PPEEIE MADE IN yrdne @ g B DGR LGBt d, THF. BEST 5 SMOKE HAVANA ROYAL LAKELAND T -CENT CIGAR Also a full line of 10- and 15-cent Goods \ Everything for the Smoker Streeter’s Cigar Store Front of Phoen ix Barber Shop LAKELAND, FLA. K ELLEY'S BARRE! Plymouth Rock § BOTH MATINGS Better now than ever befor ' High class breeding birds: reasonable prices. Fggs frc, high class pens for hatching. Write me before ordering el: where, H. WAR! L. KELLFY, Griffin, Fi WAR!| And Rumors of War Bombarding Prices on GOOD Merchandise to be resumed ALL THIS WEEK Wash Skirts, $1.00, $1.25, and $1.50, for ... Shirt Waist, $1.00 and $1.25, for. o Childrens Dresses $1.00, $1.25 and 135, for Lawns, Botists and Tissues, 15 The last call on Men’s Straw and $3.00, for.... ... .. Men’s Work Shirts, 39¢, two Men’s Dress Shirts, $1.00, $15 Overalls, 50c and $1.00, for. .. L2 2o L LLIEL LR will be glad c for Hats $1.50, $2.00, 2.50 R 0 and $2.00, for 79c, $1.19, $139 39c and 7% Sei S0e ses sl s Many other good values we to show you