Lakeland Evening Telegram Newspaper, March 19, 1915, Page 3

¢ ThelProfessions § P 1ssast00000aeebibis i, ¥ Chiropractor DE. J. Q. SCARBOROUGH, Lady in Attendance pyches Building Between Park 24 Auditorium. OFFICE HOURS. 11:30 a. m. 1:30 to 5 p. m. 7100 t0 8:00 P m opsultation and Examination Free. Residence Phone 240 Black w. L. HEATH, D, C. HUGH D. VIA. D. C, poctors of Chiropratic. Over Post Hourg 8 to 12. a. m. and 2. 5and 7 to 8 p. m. Graduates and Ex-Facuity mem- of the Palmer B8School of a bnirapratic. Consultation oinal analysis free at office. ¢ D. & H D. MENDENHALL CONSULTING ENGINEERS Suite 212-216 Drane Bulilding Fla. mphate Land Examinations and lant Designs Karthwork Specialists, eys. dence phone, 278 Black. ce phone, 278 Blue. DR. SARAH F. WHEELER OSTEOPATE uon Annex, Door South of Firm National Bank Lakeland, Florida DR. W. R. GROOVER PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON pome 5 and 4. Kentucky Buildins ? Lakeland, Florida DR. W. B. MOON PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON Telephone 350 purs 9 to 11, 2 to 4, evenings 7 to § Over Postoffice" Lakeland, Florida A. X. ERICKSON ATTORNEY-AT-LAW Real Estate Questions Bryant Building 0. Rogers Edwin Spencer, Jr ROGERS & SPENCER Attorneys at Law, Bryant Building Lakeland, Florida B. H. HARNLY Estate, Live Stock and @eneral AUCTIONEER Sales Manager IONAL REALTY AUCTION CO. Auction Lot Sales a Specialty [Raymondo Bidg. Lakeland, Fla EPPES TUCKER, JR. LAWYER mondo Bldg., Lakeland, Floride KELSEY BLANTON, ATTORNEY AT LAW Office in Munn Building Lakeland Florida DR. RICHARD LEFFERS PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON Rooms 2-3, Skipper Building Over Postoffice ........ W. 8. PRESTON, LAWYER Upstairg East of Court Hous BARTOW, FLA. ination of Titles and Rea, & tate Law a Speclalty R. H. MERCER RICHARDS HYSICIAN AND SURGEON : Rooms 5 and 6, Ellistor Blas Lakeland, Florida : Office 378; Resid. 301 Blur FRANK H. THOMPSON NOTARY PUBLIC Dickson Building ice phone 402. Res. 312 Red | attention to drafting less papers. rriage licenses and abstracts turnished l;nm WATSON, M. D. caee? Ofice 351; .hl:."ua Red Lakeland, Floride J. H ATTORNEY AT LAW Dickson Building 14 and 15 Kentucky Building LOUIS A. FORT ARCHITECT et Hotel, Lakeland, Florids DR. J. R. RUNYAN 17 and 18, Raymondo Bldg. drugs furnished with- out extra charge Residence phone 303. Ofice Phone 410 CK? %8 vlind Saaitaridm amna HARDIN BLD}! == (Copyright, 1918, by W. G, Chapman “This war,” gaia Uncle Zeke, &ing his head solemnly, “is the .b::l: ning of the thousand years in which ’s to rule. I've looked it uj Revelations, and I'm sure I've g:t 'll: right. Why, the g, Y, gures correspond exactly. ‘Times and tim, time,’ it says.” i And he went on to ing of the mysteriou has baffled an Scriptures. s fortable fortun explain the mean- 8 prediction which the students of the Uncle Zeke had a com- e, we listened respect- fully. “So you see, Henry,” he continued, addressing my husband, “if the Holy. Book speaks the truth, wi With all my heart, the world, as we know it, is coming to an end in three weeks' time at half-past seven in the morning of Wednesday. Seems to me it ought to end on a Saturday night, but that's what the Book says and it hich I believe ain’t for me to reason why. So, as | was about to say, I won’t need my money after Tuesday night, except enough to pay the milkman when he c?mes at seven the next morning, and I'm going to divide all I have between you and Nephew James and Niece Jenny.” Henry and 1 had a considerable ! il ‘ i xt 1\ Il 8 | o \l “The World, as We Know It, Is Com- ing to a End in Three Weeks.” argument after we got home. Of course we realized that, like many old men at his time of lite, Uncle Zeke was failing. But we knew that if James Carnigan got hold of the third part of Uncle Zeke's money, and Jenny Myers of the second third, wild horses wouldn't drag it from them when Un- cle Zeke woke up and found the world hadn’t ended as he expected it to. “What we've got to do, Henry,” I said, “is to stop Uncle Zeke giving his money away, or, if we can't do that, to get him to give it all to us, so that we can give it back to him. He won't last long, anyway, and maybe he'll leave us everything as a reward for our honesty.” Henry thought that was best, and when I met Cousin Jenny on the street that morning the way she looked at me showed me that she was after Uncle Zeke’s money. She bad a new coat, which made me think she’d been buying it because she felt sure of Uncle Zeke's fortune. And the first words she said confirmed my suspl- clons. “Have you heard Uncle Zeke thinks the millennium is coming?” she asked. “I have,” I answered, “and likewise that he's going to divide up hlll mon:y is nephew and two nieces. m‘l’:: : shame,” says Cousin Jennle botly. “Why, what'll he do when he wakes up and finds it waa all a de lusion?” “He'll have just onethird as much money as he had before,” 1 answend_: “Well, you spoke the truth there,’ snapped Cousin Jenny tartiy, and walked off in the rudest way. ‘When Henry came home for lunch be told me that James had been into the store and was trying to get him not to take Uncle Zeke's money. 8o then I knew that (‘oudsi:: James had in his mind too. w?;"el::,nfm— dear,” said Henry to me, “the best thing we can do is to go to Uncle Zeke and try to persuade him to let us take care of his ynux:ey"lor him in case he's made a muu‘e'. ‘Which he did, and I nlel\r'er saw Un- e so angry in my life. Cl.;‘YZ::'re the third,” he says to me. “What with James and Jenny and you all trylng to get hold of my property, you're debasing my faith in human na- . N :)l;r:lmerence. because after half-past geven on Wednesday z.nornlns come three weeks money won't be of no‘:ue at all. Why, you poor, illy creatures, | Value of Education. *De value of an education,” said Um sle Eben, “is de same as dat of a vor. It depends on what you takes & sotion io do wif it” S Teo Wash Windows. To wash windows quickly: Take & skin, dipped in warm “_~ wash windows. Then wring chamoils skin dry as ot that it makes the least bit | the very sidewalk we walk on will be made of gold. And the house-fronts Wwill be of rubies and diamonds. “It's all there,” he says, slapping the Good Book. He was so emphatic that we couldn’t | argue with him any more, and reluct- | antly Henry agreed to accept the third of his capital, which came to seven thing out of the bank and sold out his boldings at a loss, and I tell you it made me gape to see Henry coolly pocketing seven thousand dollars in bills. Cousin James and Cousin Jen- nie had already had theirs. “The poor old fellow will have an income of just six dollars a week when we hand this back to him,” eaid Henry to me, as we walked homeward. We put the money in the stocking in the chimney, and after that there Wwas nothing to do but wait. Three weeks went by, and then we all got invitations to be at Uncle Zeke's house on Tuesday night at ten. ‘When we got there we found James and Jenny waiting in a sort of grim silence in the parlor, with Uncle Zeke bolding out to them about Revela tions. “I've made a mistake, children,” he says to us. “I wasn't allowing for the difference between American and ori- ental time. The millennium will be- gin exactly at three minutes before midnight tonight.” And he showed us a chart of the sky with which he had figured out his theory. | on the table for the milkman, which Uncle Zeke had set there because he said that, though gold and silver wouldn't be anything but dross, it was { a man's duty to pay his debts. “Suppose the millennium doesn’t | come?"” suggested Cousin James, about | because I had been getting a queer and waiting for the end of the world. I thought Uncle Zeke would get mad, but to my surprise he looked quite mournful. ( “Children,” he says, “I don't mind telling you now that I've had my | doubts all along. That was what made me seem so sure. I wanted to show my faith, but somehow I've mistrusted whether it wouldn’t be in nine hun- dred years more instead of tonight. You see, there’s a passage in Daniel which seems open to two meanings. But anyway,” he says, “it'll either be tonight or in exactly nine hundred Years, if you add on another ‘times.’ " I tell you, when it was five minutes before midnight I felt all shivery. And the hand went round to the three. “It's coming now!” says Uncle Zeke. But it didn’t come, and when mid- night struck Uncle Zeke banged down his hand on the table. “Gabriel can't be late,” he says, like a disillusioned man. “It won't be for nine hundred years to come, and—and I'm a pauper.” ¥ | “No you ain't Uncle Zeke,” yells Henry, and shoves the seven thousand dollars under his nose. And, would you believe it?—what did Cousin James and Cousin Jenny do but pull out seven thousand apiece and push it onto the table! “Why, Jenny!” I cried, “I thought you and James were trying to work up uncle into giving each of you every- thing, and I wanted to save it from you.” “Same here!” says Cousin James, staring at me. But Jenny and I were kissing each other so hard that I only saw out of the tail of my cye how Uncle Zeke grabbed the bills and stowed them away. Yes, human nature isn't so bad as some folks claim. SEATED ACCORDING TO RANK Strict Rules Regulated the Positions of the Spectators in the Old Roman Theaters. ! When Rome was in her glory and the theater most popular, distinctions between spectators long remained un- known. When distinctions were made the best seats were not assigned to the priests, for the drama had no such religious significance for the Romans as it had for the Greeks, but were set apart for the more aristocratic portion of the community. The orchestra was by law set apart for the senators; later, perhaps after 67 B. C., the first fourteen rows back of the orchestra were, by the law of Roscius Otho, re- served at Rome for the knights, says | Art and Archeology. Similar arrange- | ments obtained in Roman theaters out- side of Rome, though in a provincial town like Pompell as many as four- teen rows of seats can hardly have been necessary for the knights. Au- gustus regulated the whole matter afresh. He confirmed the special privileges already granted to senators and to knights; he relegated the low- est classes to the highest seats and made the women sit apart, likewise in the uppermost places. It is pos- sible that he was sponsor also for the more exact regulations laid down con- cerning places of honor for magis- trates, priests, etc. The seats of high- est honor were those on the tribunalia. Here the editor and the emperor sat, on the right side; on the other tri- bunal the vestal virgins had their places, and with them the empress. The Cennection Plain. Brown—What a rig that woman has on. Jones (looking)—By jove that re- minds me; I've got to get some cas- | tor oil for— Brown—Eh; I fall to see how that | rig can remind you of castor oil ript. Dally Thought. You get entertainment pretty much In proportion as you give. And here Is one reason of a dozen why the world Is dull to dull perscns —Stevenson. thousand dollars. He had drawn every- : There was a dollar and nine cents ; | eleven o'clock. His words relieved me, | | sort of creepy feeling, sitting there ; d taste of it, my boy. l EYES OF THE BLIND By JOHN CAMERON. (Copyright, 1915, by W. G. Chapman.) Everybody in Erpingham pitied Dorothy Lee. She was a sweet girl, and it was agreed that it was a great | pity she was so homely. “It ain’t a fair handicap,” said old Mrs. Howell, who kept the post office. “It’s hard enough for a girl to get mar- : ried in New England, anyway, but| with her looks—I say it ain't fair.” l i Dorothy's father probably indorsed this view, but the hard-headed old farmer was too practical a man to worry about his. daughter’s looks. Dorothy lived alone with him, her mother being dead. What she thought on the subject she mever disclosed. ! She must have known, however, that there was a reason why she was al ! g ways a wall-flower at parties and was i never invited on picnics and such fes- tivities. When she was iwenty-five Tom Lan- ark came home after an absence of six years in the West. Fabulous stories preceded him. He had found a gold mine in Nevada, one of the richest in the world, it was said, and the glare of the sun on the alkali plains had seared his eyeballs until he | could only distinguish light from dark- | ness. S0 he had come back at thirty, to resume life—no, not to resume fit, | but to take up its burden alone in the i ; 0ld house that had given him birth. Margaret Barnett had been an old flame of Tom’s in the bygone days. But it there was any idea that she would | link her life to a blind man’s Margaret, | who was “running” with the banker's son, dismissed it promptly. \ “I want a live one when I get mar- ried,” she said. And Dorothy wit- nessed a snubbing which Margaret ad- ministered to Tom in the street, in front of her house. She saw the blind man trying to peer after the girl whose shrill, scorn- ful laughter echoed through the quiet street, and an excess of pity overcame her shrinking, and she ’_urrled out. “Mr. Lanark,” she said quickly, con- scious that her words were almost be- yond her control, “I am Dorothy Lee. Don’t you remember me?” Tom Lanark felt for her hands and took them in his. “Indeed I do.” he answered warmly. “I have often thought of you since I have been away.” “I think it was a shame the way Margaret Barnett spoke to you,” de. clared Dorothy indignantly, “Ah, wel‘l;wne lives and finds out these things,” réplied the blind man wearily. After that Tom fell into the habit of dropping into the old farmer's place of an afternoon, and on one occasion he actually drove up in a buggy. I thought I'd ask you to come for a drive with me, Miss Dorothy,” he ex- plained. “I was sure I knew the way down the street to here, and that you'd do the rest—it you are willing to do an act of kindness for a blind man.” “0, I should love to go driving with you,” the girl answered. She ran up- stairs to change her frock, and, five minutes later, the village was specu- lating over the appearance of Dorothy and Tom, driving down the road into the country and chatting as merrily as though they were old friends—which, indeed, they might have been called. But during the return Dorothy be- came very pensive. For she knew that her heart had turned very strongly in the direction of the blind man, and that he, too, as her woman's instinct told her, was by no means indifferent to her. And when they neared the town he suddenly placed his arm around her and drew her toward him. 5 “Do you think you can ever learn to care for a blind man, Dorothy?” he asked. It was a tremulous figure, shrink- | Ing and nerved only by intense resolu- ition, that went to Tom’s door that i night, fearful of discovery by the prying eyes of the town, yet spurred on by the sense of tremendous neces- sity. And, after she had knocked, she could hardly make her knees support her, and clung to the door-jamb for support. The door opened. Tom peered out. Thea: “I can't you,” the girl was sobbing wildly. “You have never seen me as [ am, Tom You don’t know—" “Don’t know what, dear?” asked Tom's quiet voice. She felt his hands on her shoulders, but she could not see him through the gathering tears. “I am the homellest girl in Erping- bam,” cried Dorothy. “If ever you saw me you would be ashamed of me, ‘Tom. And I can’t marry you and not let you know; and I can’t marry you and let you be ashamed of me.” 8he was beyond all self-control. She was weeping in his arms. She heard Tom’s voice between his kisses. “Dorothy, you are the prettiest girl in Erpingham, and it wouldn't make any difference to me anyway,” he said, “because I love you. Now I will tell you something, dear. I am not quite 80 blind as people think—in fact the doctor says that in a few months more 1 may see as well as ever. Sometimes & man may pretend to be blind, Doro- thy, in order to know his real friends from his false ones.” “How pretty Dorothy Lee has grown y8ince her engagement to Tom Lan- jark,” said the gossips later. And all agreed that she made the sweetest bride that ever came out of Erpingham—all but Margaret Barnett, who was no longer “running” with the | banker’s son. Careless Omission Costly. A “monkey-wrench” mechanic will eften omit placing cotter pins or re- | taining wires in the crown nuts in the motor transmission case or differential bousing. Should one of these nuts | shake of it will more than lfkely get | into the gear mesh and break up the e Okeechobee Farms of corn, cane, cowpeas, velvet beans, rape, peanuts, kudzu, spineless Bermuda, Rhodes, Para, Natal and other grasses for hay these crops available, cattle, sheep and hogs can have green food the year round. Thousands of Acres of Our Land at the North End of Lake Okeechobee Are Now Ready for Cultivation These lands do not need draining other than small ditches necessary yourself just what these lands are. Note that Okeechobee is now only a trifle over twelve Will yield big crops besides raisi journey from Jacksonville. Investigate This Wonderful Country While You Can Have a Choice of Locations for Your Farm You will find it unexcelled for general 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 will grow at an amazing rate during the next few years. We also have excellent land md town lots at Chuluota and Kenansvill—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 to stock raising, general farming and fruit growing. Write today fer full particulars to J. E. INGRAHAM, Vice-President Land and Industrial Department, Florida East Coast Railway i Room 218 City Building EASY FOR THE DETECTIVE i | i Knowledge of Human Nature and a Little Reasoning Led Him to tre Truth. Conspicuous on the end of the coun- ter in the little cigar shop was a brand new, highly ornate cigar lighter made of heavy bronze. It was the type which has a wire rod sheathed in a phial of alcohol, from which the rod is drawn to be dipped in a jet of fire. So proud was the cigarmaker of the new fixture that he pointed it out to every customer with special courtesy. While thus engaged one evening re- cently he was' borrified to discover that the wire rod with its beautiful bronze handle was missing. “It was here a moment since,” he declared to a man who was walting for a light. “Where can it be?" “Easy question to answer,” smiled the customer. “That little rod is out | there on the pavement just outside ! the door. I have not seenm it, but I | know it is there.” “Sure enough, it is there,” ex- | claimed the cigarmaker, rushing to | recover his p-operty. “How did you ! know that?” | “In my business, which happens to | be that of a professional detective,” | exclaimed the customer, “I find that & knowledge of the human inclination | to do many trifing things unconsclous- | ly is of value. In the present case force of habit caused your last cus- tomer to throw away the cigar lighter after using it precisely as if it were a match. He did it without thinking. He threw the rod either to the right or left, after lighting his cigar, ac- cording to the hand he had used. “Now, the rod was not on the floor to his left, for I looked carefully when you spoke. Consequently it had to be on the pavement, as the cigar lighter stands just next to the open door. | “Here {8 my card. If ever you need @ detective let me know." | Needless Interruptions. A New Yorker writes the Times to |K protest against a habit he says met- ropolitan women have of knitting at concerts. Recently, he declares, he was obliged to sit near a knitter and the click of her busy needles dis- turbed him. Here is a serious lssue. One has | seen & woman, returning from mar- ! ket, shelling her beans on the street | car. There could be no objection to | her plucking a holiday goose under the same circumstances, provided she didn’t scatter feathers on the floor. But knitting at & concert is differ- ent. A knitting needle obbligato to a harp selection might lack something of the ideal. One might better take & basket of corn to husk, or an arm- ful of stockings to darn. Almost any concert enthusiast will agree with the Times complainant. If the music is not to one’s liking it is better to exchange whispered stories [ with one’s neighbor than to disturb | the assemblage with clicking needles. | “From Hoke Smithe.” | Senator Hoke Smith of Georgia bas had babies named after him so numer- ously and for so many years that now his mall is Interspersed every day with letters from various other Hoke Smiths. He has his morning mall sorted into several classes, which in- clude: “Important,” “Unimportant,” and “From Hoke Smiths.” Even though he has grown used to it of late, it seems funny to sign his Hoke Bmith to a letter directed to Hoke Smith Jones or any of the acores of other Hoke Smiths that keep writing to bhim. | | Woeuld Not Think of Defeat. . is prepared for defeat would be half defeated before he commenced. I hope for success, shall do all in my power to secure it, and trust to God for the gut =Tl EEEOROROROPOROPOBOE LECT RIC & A LB R ORIOT O 8 | I Ak cactus? and pasture. With alf on any farm. Make L ST. AUGUSTINE, FLORIDA WELECTRIC [ IT WILL PAY YOU TO CONSULT US ON THE ELECTRIC WIRING IN YOUR HOUSE OR STORE We Are Electrical Experts FLORIDAELECTRICSMACHINERY Co THE ELECTRIC STORE Phone 46 Kibler Hotel Bldg. ELECTRIC £ ] 3 ] a Most all of the Particular Men because our Collar work Satisfies 00 0 T e e e e Don’t wear a glossy collor. It's out of date. Shirts and collors laundered by us being worn in three : dozen surrounding towns. How about yours? The Lakelanq Steam Laundry PHONE 130 R. W. WEAVER, Prop. Must Little Homeless Children Suffer In Florida? WE DO NOT BELIEVE that the good people of Flor- ida realize that there are right now in our State Hundreds of litde children in real need—some absolutely homeless— that just must be cared for. We feel sure—that they do not know that there are hun- dreds of worthy mothers in Florida who are just struggling to keep their little ones alive—and at home. We just cannot believe—that with these facts true—and every orphanage in Florida crowded to the doors—that the people of Florida will let our great work which has cared for 850 of these little ones this year alone—go down for lack of funds to keep it up. Your immediate help—is greatly needed—right now—Please send what you can to-day—to R. V. Covington, Treasurer of [ s, 3% PPN o TR N TR A The Children’sfHome Society of Florida Florida’s Greatest Charity 361 St. James Bldg. JACKSONVILLE, FLA.