Lakeland Evening Telegram Newspaper, April 6, 1915, Page 2

; By H. M. EGBERT E (Copyright, 1915, by W. G. Chapmen) The Misses Penfleld were quite well to do, and quite alone in the world. Miss Lizzte was forty, it she was & day. Miss Mary confessed to thirty- two, but even the sweetest of women may be pardoned for deducting a year or so after passing the thirtieth mile- stone. They were the only daughters, the only children of “Square” Penfleld of Bodminton, New England. Once the family had played a prominent part in New England’s public life; but with the growth of the industrial sys- tem and the fading out of the old ways of life they had become more and more isolated. After their father's death they were more or less “hermits,” as Miss Mary ruefully declared. All the village respected the two maiden ladies, but somehow they seemed an anachronism, a survival of other times in the hustling commercial times of the twentieth century. Two months before Miss Mary, who subscribed to an English newspaper containing a good deal of literary mat- ter, had seen an advertisement. It stated that one shilling, or a quar- ter, would purchase a pound of to- bacco, a box of matches and 50 ciga~ rettes for one soldier in the trenches in Belgium. The sender's name was to be placed upon the package. “I'd like to send a shilling for one of the poor fellows,” said Miss Mary. “But wouldn't it be a little—forward, my dear?” inquired prudent Miss Liz- sfe. “Not in time of war, dear,” answered Miss Mary. ‘With many searchings of heart the ladies embarked on thelr daring ente: ‘prise, and in due course a box went u Say Such a Dreadful Thing?” l?orvurd to the allies’ trenches bear~ Ang the name of Miss Mary Penfleld upon the cover. i And now a letter had come. It was marked with a red sign: “Opened Un- L “How Can Yo T delightful thrill down the two ladies’ backs. They opened the envelope ‘with shaking fingers and read: “My Dear Miss Penfleld:—I write to | gasped. thank you very much for your delight- [ The captain pulled his mustache and | ful gift. You cannot imagine what ! 1912, by Associated Literary (Copyright, 3 i Mrs. Amos Rood was bustling hap- pily about her neat kitchen, her pleas-; ant face even more beaming than ual. “Amos Is sixty years old today,” she explained to the milkman from whom she bought a half-pint of cream besides the customary pint of milk, “an’ I'm goin’ to get am extra nice reached the recipient, then lying in the base hospital recovering from & wound. He had been struck by a fragment of a shell while leading his company to the attack, and he would never lead it again, because a tendon in his leg had been severed and “Corp. Richard Barton” must go lMmping Rfe : Idlnnor \d Sund e e e Y9 ™2 | "The 12 o'clock whistle had sounded. when the soldier walked, but it is The beach meringue pie which was to one thing to walk across s drawing De the crowning touch of the tul; had room floor and quite another to charge ; been brought mm, L:;.m"{ .:l ;:: & line of trenches at full speed across ;UPon & side table; the roast chic! tang] was done to a turn; the tomato bisque ::::’:n.-: :r:w:‘:,m,,::“”' laden, e ready to pour into the tureem, toma- A d letter Bed the twe and as every housewife knows, ladies in due course. Miss Mary, who ::.:;'que AT eural it Aon et was romantically inclined, opened “i %1 8o ‘wish Amios would come,” the In the presence of her sister with & ;)0 yoman futtered. “That cream o' thrill of delicious wickedness. Miss | tomato won't be fit to eat” { Lizzle, however, was inclined to think | "), 10 uneasily out of the window that Miss Mary had been & little indis- | j; " \0rroq gt sight of a curlously croet. She intended to tell ber that In : p,yyyir, yet ynfamiliar, figure coming Ber opinion the correspondence must' gyouyy up tne street. Sure that bowed, be brought to a close. {bent old man could not be Amos! He But as the ladies read it they looked haq never looked like that, even when at each other in dismay. | s rheumatism was at its worst. But “He has been wounded!” exclaimed the next instant she had flung open Miss Mary, tremulously. “The Poor'the door and was running down the man! I hope it is not a serlous'garden walk. ‘wound.” “Oh, what is it—what ails you, “He says it will prevent his going!Amos?” she cried, putting her arms back to the ranks again,” Miss Mary |about him to help him up the stepe. announced, as she read further on.| “Don't be scared, Lucy—I ain't “And—Oh, Liszie, what do you think? gick,” the man said, with a brave at- He says that some day he may come tempt at a reassuring smile, to America for a visit, and that if ha} But once under the shelter of his does he will take the opportunity to:own roof, safe from prying or pitying pay a call upon those who were ”:nolghborly eyes, Amos Rood broke kind to him!" |down altogether. Sinking into a chair ' The letter fluttered out of her hands he dropped his head upon the little and she sat down in a chair breathless. 'tnblo, 80 gayly decked in honor of the “Mary!” eaid her sister severely, day with tea-roses and hellotrope from “this 18 what comes of carrying on a the garden beds, and Mrs. Rood's flirtation with a strange man!” “Sister!” gasped Miss Mary. “How can you say such a dreadful thing? Did you ever know me even to think of a man?” “A common soldier—just a cor poral!” continued her sister, reprov- ingly. “You know, my dear,” she went on, relenting, “the lower classes in England are not like they are here. The man may be anything. Perhaps he is a drinker!” Miss Mary rose to the occasion as she had never done before. “Well, sister, it he s a drinking man,” she said, “I shall—I shall send Willis out to buy a bottle of beer for him! There!” and she walked out of the room indignantly. But as the weeks went by and noth- ing more was heard about the cor poral Miss Lizzie's fears gradually sub- . sided. And so the weeks slipped into | months, and then— “Miss Mary, there is a gentleman in the parlor waiting to see you,” ex- plained the maid. “He says he hasn't & card, and he thinks you will remem- ber his name, Mr. Richard Barton.” Mies Lizzie looked at Miss Mary as | .."‘V““ W | L rier 1n the GHNNE | yonns e SVl M6 GVVIS, “Sister,” she said, “perhaps it would ,cherished “wedding” china, and his be better for me to see this Corporal 'big, shrunken frame shgok with a Barton! man's painful, tearless sobs. i And that time Miss Mary did not re- His wife silently unclasped bhis ply, because she was alrepdy in her gers from a letter which bedroom brushing her hair! Al of a great corporation, How desperately she brushed and [and as she swiftly scanned the few how quickly she changed her frock, |curt lines it contalned she walled hearing a bass voice talking in the | aghast: living room below, and dreading every | “O Amos, it must be a mistake! The minute that her sister would succeed ' company wouldn't take your pen- in dismissing the visitor before she !sion from you just because you are ' could get down. And when at last |able to earn a little something extra, she did get down and stood before | now and then?" | tall, neatly dressed, soldierly man of about thirty-five, her heart beat and lnhe felt her face suffused with foolish der Martial Law,” which alone sent & | } lushes. “My dear, let me present Captain Barton,” said Miss Lizzle. “Captain Barton!” Miss ery, stammered: ' “It's the new manager, Luey,” Amos Rood responded dully. “He's trying to cut expenses, and he says it's no part of the company's policy to pension able-bodied men.” “Able-bodled!” the little woman echoed, with a hysterical laugh. “I guess I know what you suffer, Amos, even on your best days. But don't you worry, dear—we'll get old Dr. Moore “Well, well, Lucy,” the man sald pacifically. “The company was good to me that time I had typhold, un' years ago. Didn’t I get three months' Jeave of absence with full pay and m(wubothm'oeouldnhl trip?” mfi.l'hu: months’ leave in twenty-five years!” moaned Mrs. Rood. “And now that nmew manager's going to take away your pension. Oh, I know you think I'm awful, Amos, but I just hate that grasping, greedy old company that works its men to death J-m: the way it does its poor hor'nu. so's to save a little more money!” “It hurts me to hear you talk like that, Lucy,” Amos Rood protested loy- ally. “The company does the h:t it can—it has troubles of its own. “Well, I won't say another word if you don't want I should, Amos,” the little woman promised, brushing the angry tears from her eyes. “I ain’t afrald but we'll get along some way. It just made me mad to think how little the company seemed to appre- clate how honest and faithful you've been. Now you come and wash up and eat your birthday dinner before it's all spoiled.” But though Amos Rood valiantly attempted to do justice to the little feast, it was evident to the anxious wite who watched him that the dainty viands that she had prepared with such care were as dust and ashes to his palate. He looked stunned and bewildered by the unexpected blow which had been dealt him, and as he “pushed back his chalr from the table, he said slowly: “Pd calculated to finish up that job of Brown's this afternoon, but when 1 got that letter I sent 'em word not | to expect me—I didn’t feel equal to tacklin’ figures today. But I'll paint them storm-doors you wanted done, Lucy. It'll be quiet out there in the barn, and I—I want to think things over.” Mrs. Rood looked after him wist- fully. “I guess maybe he wou'ld be bet- ter by himself,” she thought humbly. “I wouldn’t wonder if my everlastin’ gabble bothered him some when he's got things he wants to think over. Well, I'll fly around and straighten up so't will look pleasant to him when he comes in, an’ maybe if I was to fix that chicken into a scallop he'd relish it for supper. He didn’t eat scarcely a mite o' dinner.” But although Amos Rood had found the solitude he craved, there was something terrifying to him in. the emptiness of the great barn, and as he resolutely set himself to the task of painting the “storm doors” he had mentioned, he began to wish vaguely that old Dolly were still alive to stamp jher iron shod feet and to nicker to him soclally from her stall. Then, with a sudden pang, he real- ized that he was glad that the old horse who had been his and Lucy's frfiend and companion for so many years, had died last month, for how could he have brought himselt to sell her when thelr little home was broken up? The brush dropped from his nerveless hand as he muttered, yes, it would come to that! Lucy sald that they would man- age some way, but Lucy, with all her cheery commen sense and thrift, had & woman's ignorance of the grim fact that two and two always make four, and never by any chance five or six. Perhaps, by selling thelr little place and living og the proceeds they might ménage to keep together .for a few years more, but the end was inev- itable. Sooner or later Lucy would be obliged to go to the well-to-do sis- ter who had never attempted to con- ceal her conviction that the pretty, energetic girl might have done better than to marry Amos Rood. As for him, there would be nothing left but the shelter of the county poor house. Something seemed to snap in the man's brain. Why shouldn’t he quiet- ly get out of it all, while there was stlll something to keep Lucy from en- tire dependence on a woman like pros- perous, self-satisfled Jane Thorn? She | tomorrow and—do what is best. T0 HEAD THE DANGE By HOPE AINSLEE. (Copyright, McClure Newspaper Syndicate.) Mrs. Melledge, president of the Village Civic league, felt very much satisfied with her selection of Corinne Long as Martha Washington to lead the march in the dance to be given by the organization on the approach- ing patriotic holiday. She had al ways been fond of Corinne, and when the girl had been forced through war time conditions to earn her own liv- ing she had been glad to help her to get a dancing class in the city. “P'll have the sweetest little Martha ; Washington you ever saw,” she told Mrs. Ramsey at a committee meeting on the following day. “And wait till you see my George Washington!” Mrs. Ramsey counter- enthused. “And he dances perfectly. I'm fortunate in being able to secure him, for—be it known—he's a most popular dancing man in a fashionable circle in town.” The members of the committee were naturally curious as to the iden- tity of their leaders-to-be. All the town girls vied with each other in planning their costumes and the men of the town sought city costumers for colonial suits for themselves. Much interest was manifested in the ap- proaching ball. : When Corinne arrived at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Melledge and was | placed before a cheerful hickory fire in the great dining room, she sighed more contentedly than she had sighed on any evening since she had become | a wage earner in the great city. This | was her first real holiday, and she felt, once more, like the old Corinne ' who used to be a member of house ,parties in fashionable suburbs, with / dancing and gayety in prospect. How little she had appreciated her care- free existence of those days. How | little! t “You haven't showed the slightest interest in your gown, Corinne,” said Mrs. Melledge, as she approached the fire and sat on the arm. of the girl's chair. “Don’t you want to see it?” Corinne slipped her hand into that of her friend and sighed. “Where is it? And my partner? Has he come?” she asked. “He's to be here tonight, Marden Drew, no less, my dear!” Corinne shrank into the corner of her chair. “Msrden Drew! Oh, Mrs. Melledge—I—oh, why did you select him?” Mrs. Melledge stood up and looked searchingly at the girl. “Why—what's the matter, dear? Do you know him?”* Corinne covered her facy with her hands. “Know him? I—should say— 1—did know him.” At last Corinne looked up. “Isn’t there someone else who could lead this march, dear Mrs. Melledge? I Just can't do it with—Marien,” she said. X “Nonsense—why not?” Mrs. Mell- edge tried to laugh off what threat- ened to be a tragic ending; of her plans. “He—we were engaged,” Corinne began. “When I had to leave home | and find employment I told him 1 could not marry him becaise—oh, well, you know how a girl fels who has always had all I had.” Mrs. Melledge put her arnn about the girl. “Don’t you suppose this is fate—this chance coming topether, dear?” she asked. “Oh—I don’t know,” sobbed Ct rinne, her head down on her arms. “I—I was thinking of him when you came in, and—-oh, 1 am so tired. Lt me g0 to bed and I'll promise to behave I'm sorry to be so silly,” she sald, rising, her arm across her face like that of a little girl trying to hide her tears. Mrs. Melledge followed her. “If you like, dear—Oh, Herbert!" she ex- claimed, seeing the form of her hus. band in the door. “Quick, Corinne,” to the girl. would mourn for him he knew, but death is easler to bear than some oth- er things, Suddenly he paused, arrested in his Dleasure such a thing gives us out | wey Miss Penfleld, the fact is, that here, and greater than the gift 18 the | ypen you deciphered my illegible hand- thought that there is someone who is writing as corporal the joke seemed thinking of us. I have passed your too good to lose. And so I made my- box of cigarettes all along the R self a corporal in my second letter. I trenches, and if you could see our fel | xnow ft wasn't right—but it's better ws pufing away under a hail of grim preparations for the deed on which he was resolved. “Amos! Amos!” his wife was call- ing. Ten, yes, five moments more and he would have been forever deaf tothat tender voice, and Lucy would have to write that new manager a letter that will make him ashamed of him- self.” “It wouldn't do a mite of good, Lucy,” the man said, shaking his head. “He says he's got proof I canearn a Herbert Melledge was followed by their neighbor, Mr. Ramsey, and & tall, serious young man. “Helen, Ram« sey wanted you to meet Mr. Drew be fore this party is pulled off—why, Co- rinne—you here, too? This is tuck!"™ “So you are to be my Martha Wash- ington?” Marden Drew said, calmly, when they had been left alone togeth er by their tactful hostess. 4 $ é & To The Public:— Every man of integrity and thrift in this comp, requires satisfactory banking connections, It does not make so much difference to the office this bank HOW MUCH money a man has in our by we want his NAME on our books. His influence and i ship are often worth even more to the bank thy, money. % The strength of our institution and the standing ¢ offiecrs are such that we have no hestancy in prese our advantages to the largest or smallest depositor, Our ways of satisfactorily serving you are many we invite your account. Yours very truly, 2 % W A FIRST NATIONALBA THIS BANK IS A MEMBER OF THE FEDERy) RESERVE SYSTEM. The Financial Crisis Oy We are now in shape to give you the benefit of our Low Expenses. Let us wire your House and save you money, Lower Insur- ance, Cleanliness and Convenience are the results. T. L. CARDWELL Phone 3 With Lakeland Sheet Metal Wor| 3 k. $ Armour Star Hams Uncanbassed at 18 Cents L. 6. IWLLDELL| PHONE 59 ooo.0oooooov‘a00000000000043N¢¢¢o¢ooae_»oow to make one's selt ral wh i —I" Shiabasl you would find yourselt am- 'S a corporal when | good living If I'm a mind to—but—I'm come and found him—he shuddered | ‘T—had been asked to,” Corinne | == Pply repaid in the pleasure which you | Dave given them. We are all blessing your name tonight, for we have not had a good smoke for ages.” i “What is this signature, my dear?” dnquired Miss Lizzfe. “It looks like Cop. Richard Barton.” L The two ladies examined the signa- ‘lll‘ carefully. “Why, it is his rank— corporal, of course,” said Miss Mary. ¥Ha must he anite a resnectable man, ve been made ;.Eo;é;)-r;i. You | n ow they are very strict in the Eng- lish army. A drinking man could never ‘become a corporal.” “But it is sad to think of them abandoned to the habit of tobacco,” | hnswered Miss Lizzie. “However— ought we to write back to him, my Gear? T3 “Would—would it be proper, sister?” @sked the other. “We shall never see him, and per~ Baps a letter would cheer him up. And then, the poor fellow may be shot.” “Oh, no!” exclaimed Miss Mary in Sorror. After a long talk they decided to write Corp. Richard Barton a joint Jetter, to preserve the proprieties. ‘was a letter that might have made the frreverent laugh. It dealt with all the small talk of the village, for to the two maiden ladies Rodminton wgs tbl] A diner 1n & mt ) would have & joke e waiter, and asked him If he had ever seen a saus- age roll. “Say,” said the waiter, “1 one's a captain than vice versa, isn't And, Miss Penfleld, I assure you that I am not a drinking man.” “And Captajn Barton E oing to stay to lunch,” sald Miss Lizsle. During the lunch Miss Mary plucked up courage to look at the captain. And the more she looked at him the more he came to resemble a certain idol in & little secret shrine tucked pway f he.r heart. What was more to the poin s Lizzle digeovered that the tain had made & very similar discovery with fégard to her sister. And for once Miss Lizzie indulged in that ro- mantic speculation that she had so discouraged in her sister. The captain was visiting America on business connected with a certain rich old property which he owned not many miles away. This left ample opportunity for subsequent visits, and before the time for his return arrived be had persuaded Miss Mary to make the trip to Europe in his company, ua- der his name. “And Miss Lizzie must accompany us on our homeymoon,” he insisted. “You see, it was pretty hard to make 1¢ | ™Y decision, because I have coupled you two together in my mind, you know.” afraid I can't. I'm pretty good at fig- urin’, and when the merchants here get their accounts balled up they're apt to send for me to straighten 'em out, but it's hard for a man of my age to get a steady job, even it I could ' keep it up day in and day out. Per-! haps 1 was foolish to snap up thosé ' chances to add a little to our in-, come. And yet” he added with a | sigh, “that pension wasn't a very big, ofie for two people to live on.” “I should say It wasn't!" agreed Mrs. Rood vehemently. “I call it pret- ! ty doin's!” she went on flercely. ! “Here's you all broken down, and all | those years your salary was so small | that though I've been as saving as I knew how, we've just manmaged | pay for this place and put a few hun- dred dollars in the bank.” “We'd never have done that much it 1t hadn’t been for you, Lucy,” her husband said gratefully. “You're master hand at conmtriving. But it aln’t the company’s fault that I got all oflgvlod up with rheymatism, so's ! I couldn't do my work." “T'd like to know If it ain't, Amos Rood!” she flashed. “T'd like to know if you wa'n't kept all those years in & damp, underground office and not al- | & | rich1” with a sick repulsion. He had been selfish—cowardly—mad—! But Lucy's light feet were running along the gar- den paths and she was calling again: “Amos! Oh, Amos, do please urry!® Thé man stumbled blindly to the door. The next Instant he was stand- ing in the warm sunlight he had never thought to feel again, with Lucy's arms about his neck; her happy tears upon his cheek, “Oh, Amos,” she was bubbling joy- ously, “the general superintendent himself is In the house! It's perfect!y lovely to hearshim swear. He says the new manager has exceeded his au- thority altogether, and that the com- pany does know lhow to appreciate faithful service such as yours has been! And only think, instead of tak- ing away your rension, he Intends to increase it! Why, Amos, we'll be h Acme of Enjoyment. “Jimmy, what would you do i you was rich?” “T'd have ple fer dinner every day.” “Anything else?™ “Yes; I'd have a scoreboard in de And that delighted Miss Lizsie fust | 107ed Balf the help you'd ought to|dining room, wit' de butler marking a8 much as though she had believed §§ I Popular Ruselan A popular drink among the ants of Russia is called quass. It fs | made by pouring warm water over rye or barley meal. It is a fermented have had? A Advareity: A A high charaeter night be produced, 1 suppoaw, by 2Ghiinued prosperity, but 1t h28 Very seldom been the case. Ade versity, however it moy appear to bo our [oe, is our true friend; and, after have not only seen a sausage roll, | liquor and is very sour, dut has Jsem | ® little 2cquaintance with it, we re Dut I have seen a biscuit box, a table t used for years by these poverty celve it as 2 precious thing—the proph- 9poon, & chimney sweep, a chain link, & DOse gay, a camera slide, a garden Semce, & sword fish and a wall flower.” Failure, The only faflure a man ought to ot Is fallure in cleaving to the pur- that the water power avallable from It | That nation 1s worthless which dobe 0 @ he sees to be best—George Bt | | | stricken people. Qreatest Water Power. Bt Lawretice river system is the in Canada, and it is protdle 1= greater thun tiat of any other river ecy of a coming joy. It should be no ambition of ours to traverse a path without a thorn or a stone.~Charles H. Spu-geon, up de scores from all parts of de coun- fry whi'e 1 ent™ Chief Uses for Platintm. Onctiird of the world's supply of ..hunum is raquired in dentistry and ;nmhc-: ikird ‘or electrical purposes. —— Life and Work, 1 my P'm responsible for both.—Kipling. Reputation and Character. must do my own work aad live own life in my own way, because Reputation is what men and wom- en think of us; character is what God and the angels know of us.—Thomas National Honor. wt joyfully stake ~verything on her wnor. - -Schiller. whispered. “Had been?” the man echoed. Corinne laughed nervously. “Yes ~I am to help you to lead the march on Monday,” she said. “Wouldn't it be a good idea it we were to plan to get ourselves on bet- | {ter terms before trying to lead a {march of merry dancers, Corinne?” he asked, stepping closer to her. “It-—~might look better.” “It migl't look better—and feel bet- ter and be better,” announced Mar- den, taking her hands firmly. “I've tried to find you In New York [I've done ever;thing to locate you and now that ' have you I shall not let you gc. Il come’ over here tonight and invite our hosts and hostesses, respectfully. to be contented with a long game of bridge. TN tell them i have much to tell you — that we have to rehearse our steps—that— that yon are my flancee and that we haven't seen each other for a year. 8o be prepared to substantiate my statements and—" But Corinne, girllike, was crying again, but this time for joy, and wh Optimistic Theught. We may despica ‘bo world, but we eannot do withont [ | | | TN ] l NOTICE! Several People Killed by bouse flies. That is awful and could have_ been avoided had they had their; home screened. Ycu bad better let us screen your home snd keep out the flies. They are smal to kill you, but they carry man dreaded germs that can kill you when least expected. \