Lakeland Evening Telegram Newspaper, January 28, 1915, Page 6

#he found herdelf alons of & rustic garden bench with Mr. Davenal. She felt it her-duty to tell him the truth regarding the reasons why she had broken her engagements with him. She was surprised to see the deep shadows that crossed his face as she spoke. BYUMLVAU JORDAN GARTH. “I was informed wrongly,” he said, afii BVENING TALBGRAM, LAK ELAND, FLA., JAN. 28, 1915. | | ! '\ SERIOUS FAMILY By HENRY KIRK. his voice unsteady with some deep ' “And to each of my four loving and ' emotion suddenly revealed. “I—I was devoted nieces, a framed portrait of | plaued at your indifference. I—and myself, to be enlarged from my cabi- | pow it is too late!” met photograph, for which and other | They were interrupted at that mo- purposes & fund has been given bY 'ment. “Too late”—for what? The me to my executor. I hope they will words rang in Alice’s ears for hours. treasure the portrait in their posses- (Could it be possible that he had cared sion and memories in remembrance for her, that he had been cajoled into of me.” | engaging himself to Esther, that now “The cheap old hunks!” viciously 'his eyes were opened to the truth? hissed Mary Winsted to her sister,! Before Alice could fathom . the Nettie. | depths of the complication there came “It's shameful!” was the angry re- ' gtrange and disturbing news. sponse, rich relative of Worth Davenal had “After leaving all that money to the | plunged too deeply in his stock ex- theological seminary!” almost sobbed | change speculations, had lost his en- Bather Dalton to her cousin, Alice | tire fortune and both he &nd his pros- Rowe, who sat by her side. pective heirs were beggars. “Dear old uncle!” spoke Alice soft- | Then came the climax. Esther ly. “He was good to all of us when ' tyrneq against Worth in disdain. One he was alive. He gave me my piano, ' day he met Alice. He found her the you know, and there hasn't been & oya]l friend she had proved to be. Christmas for five years past that he ghe advised him, she encouraged him hasn't made us all handsome and eX- when he sought work like the man pensive gifts of jewelry and the like.” | ho was. Then true love shone forth. Esther shrugged her shoulders un- | They became engaged. At the end of der the $200 sealskin coat that Uncle ' the year, in a modest but happy home Robert had given her only a feW 'they get ‘up housekeeping amid the weeks before his death. Then 8he gpeers of Alice’s three cousins con- smiled sweetly at Mary and Nettie. | cerning “those paupers!” She was glad to see the owners of | (pe day there came to the humble those angry faces disappointed in cottage the executor of Uncle Rob- their lofty hopes of a rich legacy. ert's estate, The reading of the will of old Rob- | «ppg Davenal,” he said, pleasantly, . with a glance at the portrait of her dead relative occupying a prominent place on the wall and well cared for, “I shall never forget him,” declared Alice. “He was very good to me, and I loved uiin dearly.” “You are not like your. cousins, then,” sald the lawyer. “Those three other portraits have gone to the rub- bish heap. So I have a special mis- sion in coming here today.” | Alice looked inquisitive and her hus- band interested. “By a private arrangement made with myself,” explained the lawyer, | “I was to watch the manner in which his portrait was cherished by his ‘nlecel‘ To the one who showed a genuine interest in his gift, I was to give, at the end of two years, the sum of $20,000. That legacy you have | worthily won, and it is now at your command.” And “those paupers” were no longer , Ditied and looked down upon by the illnatured trlo, who had lost a for- tune by showing up their real petty natures in true colors. (Copyright, 194, by W. G. Chapman.) : Folk's Good Opinion. ng of the WIll of Old Rob-_‘ Few persons do not value the good ort Bure Ended. character of someone is not the way ert Burr ended, all interest of most to build up your own; the ruin of an of the relatives present died out, for | Other does not mean your bullding up. he had favored few of them, and those , There are some who appear to think with no marked liberality, There was A auother’s possessions something taken a great confab at the Daiton homeé , from themselves. This is a mistake. that evening. Alice was an orphan To point out an error in anéther's and lived with the Daltons. The Win- ' character is not to prove a correspond- steds lived only next door, and Mary , {0g virtue in one's own. If we decry and Nettie came over to discuss the ' another for being miserly, of disagree- great event of the day and abuse their able disposition, extravagant or stu- dead relative, | pid, and expect the hearer to see the “Humph! his old portrait can go to , corresponding virtue in ourselves, the barn loft, for all Il hinder,” de- | We need to learn that this is not what clared Mary, spitefully, the hearer usually sees. Rather he “‘In loving remembrance!’” quoted : thinks how unkind such talk is and Nettie, sneeringly. “I hope some one '*attention is called to failings in the smashes a stepladder in it when they speaker which would probably other- 80 to hang it in my room.” | wise not have becn noticed. Let your “I shall retire my precious legacy ; clief aim be to muke yourself worthy a8 800n as the decent period of mourn- i of the good opinion of others. Belit- ing has passed,” observed Esther, tling them is a plain acknowledg- , a8 though she were punishing A mcnt of a conscious fault of your own. the relative who had failed to cater to | The way to win the good opinion of extravagant tastes. others is to be worthy of it. If you Alice said nothing. She had always | are you will not need to call attention bad a '::r; nc:.wl'to I:"l:.ersl::u lln‘lo to it—Milwaukee Journal. was in measure dependent upon the Dal- Habit of Judging. but well esrned her way. Espe- The habit of judging is so nearly in- 3 the gift of the plano she | curable, and its cure is such an almost had been able to pay a fair cash price | interminable process, that we must for her board, besides helping in many | concentrate ourselves for a long while Nttle household duties which the ' on keeping it in check, and this cheek m‘ mfimhmwmo o AN lvz, to be found in kind interpretations. por- | We must come trait hung in a cherished way in the !our sharp eye t::- :'fi.':n':'nfm';'fz poorest room in the house, which of haps we once prided ourselves as clev- eourse was the one to which uncom- erness. We must look at our talent plaining Alice was assigned. BEsther | for analysis of character as a dread- Rad placed her legacy in her brother's | tul possibility of huge uncharitable- neglected den. The Winated girls | ness. We are sure to continue to sy boasted that theirs had found | clever things, so long as we continue an unoccupled servant's | to indulge in this analysis; and clever there came along one | things are equally sure to be sharp and the complexion | and acld. We must grow to some- girlish lives was vi- | thing higher and something truer than affected by the occurrence. quickness in detecting evil. The Readi Running the Gantlet. The word “gantlet” in “to run the gantlet” is improperly used. The word Btockbroker. Bsther set her | ghould be “gantlope.” Phillips, in his him at once. This caused & [ “worid of Words,” tells that “to run in her relation with Mary . yne gauntelope” is a punishment harmony of the |, 550 goldiers, the offender having to e of cousins was broken In | ry;, with his back naked, through the Iwholo regiment, and to receive a lash but bold as Well. | pror 5 switch from every soldier. It to appropriate (is gerived from Gant (Ghant), a town tor to the town ; ;¢ Flanders, where the punishment mv~:° ""’; ;wu invented, and.the Dutch word lope, attentive ol ."'““‘"‘“ ' NECKWEAR OF THE MOMENT vored nephew of a prosper- T 4] i f e il 1 g 14 : | 8 1 ¥ E i i gflz Just as last summer the lovely touch of white neckwear was organdie and lawn, so now it is of cream net and lace in the finer costumes, and of pique In those dresses that smack of collars - 5 ; ! £ bt z H; % The . see you still remember your uncle.” | | opinion of others. Pulling down the '} (Copyright.) “The marriage of my daughter, Mr. Wayne, is a matter of the greatest importance. As you see, it concerns my entire family. That is why we are all here to discuss it.” Mr. James Brownson made a sweep- | ing gesture with his right arm. The circle included & small group of men and women arranged about the room, { half § dozen people of varied ages and descriptions. “It is the greatest event {in & woman's life—her marriage—so you must not wonder at our delibera- tion. You are thirty years of age, I believe?” Wayne shifted in his chair. “Yes,” he said, quietly,. He was rather weary of the proceedings, al- though, for the sake of the girl, he was willing to make certain conces- sions to the claims and prejudices of ' her family. “Yes, I am thirty.” “Thirty! And what have you done | with yourself?” Mr. Brownson looked ! at the young man squgrely and aggres- i sively. “Done?” Wayne laughed a little. “Why, I think the principal thing— yes, the greatest thing—I have done ! 1s to love your daughter!” | He looked at the girl as he said it. | She was sitting very quietly next to her mother. Mr. Brownson went on without not- ing the reply he had made, quite as if it were of too trivial a nature. “You are possessed of a large in- come. Fortunately, my daughter does not require it; nor, at the same time, can we say you have ulterior motives in seeking her hand.” ‘Wayne bowed. Mr. Brownson raised a protesting hand. “You love my daughter—good! But what have you done with your life? : Thirty years of age, and what have you accomplished?” ‘Wayne looked up frankly. “I don’t know of anything in par- cular,” he said, “but I guppose I shall o something—perhaps.” “You have occupied your time prin- cipally with frivolities and fdleness!” Mr. Brownson came out at last with ! his long-suppressed sentiment. He looked about him. “I have asked my sisters and brothers, and also Mrs. Brownson's only living relatives, to hear this matter discussed. We are a serious family, Mr. Wayne—simple, serious people—and the marriage of my daughter—" ‘Wayne looked squarely into the eyes of his hoped-for fatherin-law. “May 1 parry your daughter, Mr, Brownson?” Mr. Brownson fidgeted. “One moment, please,” he said mild- ly. “This 18 a serlous question, and we aré, as T said beloFe, serious peo- ple. You, as I take it, are not a seri- | ouf man. You spend your time upon | your yacht, in travels of a useless | nature, and in this country you race; about in a somewhat criminal and reckless manner in your automobile. Do you think it would be wise for a, parent to trust his chfld to you?”’ | | looked at their folded hands. Mrs. Brownson raised her handkerchiet to her eyes. Wayne looked them all over, from Brownson himself at the head, to the | | little fussing individual, a nervous { aunt, at the end. He marveled thate H (‘llcely could have come of such peo- ple. Certainly, she could not follow the bent of her pompous old father, nor, yet that of her hysterical mother, who was just now, he was certain, rev- eling in the thought of her child crushed under the wheel of his big white car, or drowned somewhere in the bottom of the sea. The others were quite imposstble. Mrs. Brownson began to ery sad, sudibly. N\ “Jemnie!™ Mr. Brownson rafsed Hand. Mrs. Brownson did not see the hand; dut she knew R was thers, for she fustantly ceased. “Cicely, what lmve you te say?” ‘The girl kad been lvoking quietly av thie tips of her fingers. New, she chunged her lne of vision watil % reaclied the eyes of her father. “I love him.” Shie said ¢ simply and' without the slightest trace of emotion or hysteris. It was something quite settled fn her mind,. and i the famfly councils <could’ not possidly change Rer: Wayne: Iooked' at her gratefully. “Cicely!” Mrs. Brownsen sobbed sharply. “You wish to leave me!” ‘The' relatives raised their eyebrows and’ thought Cicely showed s certain lack: of niceness in her frank avowal. “Mother, you married father!” “What do yeu mean?” “Every one marries, and T don't see ‘why Jaek’s motor and his yacht should be placed between ws.” astonishment at his child. It was the first time she had ever asserted her- self. “Cieely,” ke got out, “do you realize ‘what you are saying? Do you realize | that you are questioning me, your parent? Are you forgetting your filial duty? My dear Mr. Wayne, I must apologize for my daughter. Ste can- not know her own mind, and wpon that score as well, I object to her vaion with you. No, ne, it is quite im- possible; but what, as I asked you betore, what have you don.!ltiyflrl thirty years? Golden years; m‘ years, and yet where are they?® ‘Wayne said nothing. He was be- ginning to be unbearably bored. He was almost ncrvous. Cicely’s father was her father, and, since he was, he was worthy of some consid- eration; but, despite the fact, he found ; the bestowal of that consideration rather difficult. He thought him an insufferable old codger, quite a fos- silized specimen of the race. swift review. l st 5T politely. The Telatives siAYed his amiable doubt. & “I have nmever bored any ome. 1 don’t think I have.” He paused quick- ly and looked at his boots. “I'll telly vou, Mr. Brownson, I think I have oc- cupied’ my thirty years rather well. I have made myself happy, and tried to mave others. I'm sure everyone who - has ever been on my yacht has pleas- ant memories of it, and anyone who bas ever ridden in my car. I've taken out all sorts of people, from newsboys to bishops. “I don't know of any special dam- age I've ever done. Certainly, I've never run over any one—not that I know of. I've done my best general- ly. These are probably negative vir- tues, but they’'re the best I have,-all but the biggest and the greatest of them all, loving Cicely.” The relatives looked at each other gingerly. The maiden aunt felt some- what shocked. Mr. Brownson felt the responsiveness of the circle. “That is very well,” he breathed heavily, “but we are a serious family, and negative virtue is too—well, too negative—quite too much in the ab- stract to satisfy.” “Then, what I need is seriousness of purpose?” “Exactly!” Mr. Brownson joined his finger-tips. Two of the relatives coughed. Mrs. Brownson gurgled. The girl looked at | Wayne and smiled. The man instant- ly forgot the others and quickly start- ed to his feet. Cicely alone was there, and she was smiling at him. She was his love and his heart’s desire. She was the most that the wolfld might give to him. He loved her, and that was enough for him to know. She loved him, and there was nothing else for him to know. He started to the center of the room. The girl rose and met him. Mr. Brownson shot up from his seat in amazement. Mrs. Brownson pre- pared for further tears. The relatives leaned back and waited. “What does this mean?” Mr. Brown- son’s voice hit the notd of tragedy. “Do you intend to steal her from me?” Indignation mingled with the tragic. “This is too much. We are a serious family. You are simply an idle man of the world. We have noth- ing in common. The conference is over.” Mrs. Brownson decided there were to be no tears. The relatives rose with her. “The conference is decidedly over!” Mr. Brownson loftily repeated. “Father!” The girl gave a little cry. “Father!” Mr. Brownson paused at the agony in his child's cry. Mrs. Brownson again raised her handkerchief. The otherp made way for a scene. “I don't see why you are all this way!” The girl choked a little. “I fove him, and he is worthy of thag I can give mq}, Yes, he is. He'g better than any of us. He's always doing something for Ppeople—poor ped ple. I know. Jack, you know I love you, and my father can never change me!” Mr. Brownson coughed. From the resultant sound it would seem that the cough was uncalled for. “That ill do, Cicely; that will do. A last word, perhaps, may be neces- sary, and I would suggest that it be made in private. Jennie, all of us.; We shall go up to the library. We thropy alone. “Cicely, you will go to your room. Mr. Wayne, you may remain here, or return in half an hour for our final decisfon.” With this, the head of the clan Brownson gathered his forces and left the room. Halt an hour later he returned again, leading the line. Wayne was there awaiting them. Cicely was be- side him. From all appearances, they had never left the room. Mr. Brownson looked at the girl in some astonishment. “Cicely, what does this mean? I thought I sent you to‘your room. Mr. ‘Wayne, have yow taken undee advan- tage?™ ‘Wanye spoke very quickly. “R means, Mr, Brownson, thut I sm a serious man myssif. I should say— perbaps 1 am. I rather thought my love for Cicely was serious emough. She agrees with me fn the matter. ¥ won't spologize for my thirty years, even if I haven't done anything spe eial for my country. ¥ haven't build bridges, nor have I' eperated strest rallways. But I have done one Dig thing in loving your damghter. “It has taken up so much of my time that I couldn’t reasemably do any thing elve. But—" He paused and went mearer to the girl and took her hand Mr. son shook as {f a spasm had suddens ly seized him. Mrs. Brownson and the otfters took their eue and fmme- diately entered upon & wild consterna: tlon. “Enowgh of this! Enough—enough!"™ Mr. Brownson was livid. “You have mo purpose in life, no—" est | have been, about 3 whem you were gome, I took her out and married her!” THE PLOTTERS By LAWRENCE A. CLAY. On her twenty-ninth birthday Miss Fanny Blake had a party and cheer- fully announced to her guests that it was her twenty-first anniversary. It's a mere trifie for an old maid to knock eight years off her life at a single blow. Miss Blake went about among her guests with simpers and giggles and “girl-girl” shrugs and said: “Mother contends that I ounly twenty years oid, but I §0 at twenty-one, 50 dispute about it.” ‘There was one i Al Will yield big crops of corn, cane, cowpeas, velvet beans, rape, peanuts, kudzu, 4 besides raising Bermuda, Rhodes, Para, Natal and other grasses for hay and pasture. With Okeechobee Farm spineless cactus? : all these crops available, cattle, sheep and hogs can have green food the year round. ‘ Thousands of Acres of Our Land at the North Entl. of Lake Okeechobee Are Now Ready for Cultivation ’Dlese lands do not need draining other than small ditches to Okeechobee on the new division of the Florida East Coast ecessary on any farm. Make a trip " Rairl’;m)" without delay, and see for yourself just what these lands are. Note that Okeechobee is now only a trifle over twelve hours’ journey from Jacksonville. Investigate This Wonderful Country While You Can Have a Choice of Locations for Your Farm You will find it unexcelled for gencral farming. livestock and poultry raising and for growing all kinds of vegetables common to Florida as well as the finest citrus fruit. This town and country willl' grow at an amazitig rate during the next few years. We also have excellent land n-nd town lots at Chuluota and Kenansville—the former a fine lake section in Seminole County suited to fruit growing, trucking and general farming, and the latter a fertile pine land country in Osceola County especially adapted 1o stock raising, general farming and fruit growing. Write today for full particulars to J. E. INGRAHAM, Vice-President Land and Industrial Department, Florida East Coast Railway Room 218 City Building “MT> Nash Beard Some of the whis- pered doubts, and next day, when he happened to meet Miss Louise Win- chester in the street, he said: “Do you think Miss Blake is over twenty-one years old?” “Why don’t you ask me if I don't think she is over thirty!” “Can you find out her true age for me?” asked Mr. Nash. “It must be recorded in the family Bible.” “Very likely.” “And when I used to call there the Bible was kept on a stand in the par- lor.” “But it isn't now. At her party last night she claimed to be twenty-one.” “Well?” “How many chocolates can you eat in a week?” “A pound a day!” “You copy the record of her birth from the Bible and the chocolates are yours.” “I'll do my best to earn them.” Miss Fanny Blake had a brother fif- teen ycars old. He was head over heels in love with the girl of nineteen. It was his first love. Miss Louise took occasion to meet the calf-lover at an early date and tol say: “Frankie, is it true that your folks have no Bible in the house?” i “Who has been telling such a story a8 that?” he demanded. { “But a person who calls there has looked around without being able to' see a Bible.” “And why not? Because sister Fan- The relatives nodded their headsand | Shall discuss Mr. Wayne's—philan- | RV gave me a nickel to carry it up | the garret and say nothing about “Oh, she did, eh? Frankie, would you like to go fishing with me tomor- row?” “You bet!” ! “Did you ever read the story of Laz- arus in the Bible?” i “I never did.” | “If T had a Bible I would read the| story while you fished.” 5 l “That will be bully! I can bring ours along.” And that sacred book was sneaked out and taken along on & fishing trip, and while Frankie fished for bull- heads and suckers Miss Louise read him the stery of the beggar. She also turned to the family record and cop- fed it As soon as the record was copled ‘Miss Louise remembered sa important engagement that must take her home at once. And off the girl went to place the record in the hands of Mr. Nash, and receive her checolates—seven pounds, full weight. And then Mr. Nash did a mean thing. He gave the old maid the mitten. Of course, he tried to ease his conscience on the ground that she had prevari cated about her age, but suppose she had? In due time Miss Blake learned of the conspiracy, and no matter what she vowed to do to get even with the minx she kept it to herself and bided her time. When a man wants to get even he goes out and punches the other man’s head and has it over with. ‘When a woman seeks revenge she has the patience to wait until her oppor tunity comes. But—in time the tangle was un- tangled and Miss Louise Winchester became Mrs. Reddick, Miss Fanny Blake was married to Deacon Spencer, Mr. Nash married a girl of twenty and she used to throw coffee pots and other things at him, and Frankie Blake got over his calf-love and be- i zerland than elsewhere. Simplicity, | frugality and moderation, the preserv- | ers of liberty, have always been the | *°®0e ST. AUGUSTINE, FLORIDA _ The Lakeland - Steam Laundry Is prepared to give you in laundry work, what experienced workmen and modern equipment will produce—S UPERIOR SERVICE. If youare not already ore of our customers, we invite yowto hecome one and enjoy this service, Visitors are always welcome at our laundry—we are glad to have our{custom- ers call and inspect our method of laun- dering. We have a large number of 12-inch rules for the school children, and will be pleased to give one to every child jwhc will call at the Laundry office. R. W. WEAVER, Prop. PHONE 130 PH. 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