Lakeland Evening Telegram Newspaper, April 7, 1915, Page 6

. Downstair 3 By Philip Kean ! by Assoclated m&my’ Literary Kendal held himself tense. Prom' somewhere in the great empty house there bad come the sound of a foot- ! step. i His hand went out instinctively toward the loaf of bread and the bit of cheese which constituted his breakfast. At all events he must hide these. Again there was silence, and with a sigh of rellef he returned to his meal only to throw his head up again, listening. This time the sound was unmis- takable. There was some one in the house. Gathering up his provisions, he stored them in the fireplace, crum- pling a newspaper carelessly in front of them, that they might be screened from view. ‘Then he crept to the top of the stairs. He was on the third floor. He seemed to look down through a haze of dusty pale green light to the entrance hall. A woman stood there. Bhe had a key in her hand, and even from that distance he could see that she was pale and careworn. “Bring the little trunk in here,” he hegrd her say, suddenly and clearly, to some one outside; “you can leave it in the hall.” She opened a small pocketbook and took out a coin. He saw a big hand reach out to grasp it; then the door closed, and the girl sat down on the little trunk and drew a long breath of relief. Kendal stood, irresolute. He turn- od back into his own barren room, “I don't care,” he murmured. | He returned repeatedly to the top of the steps, however, and watched the girl drag her trunk into what bhad once been a parlor. He could hear her light footsteps moving to * and fro. Later in the day she went out, and he descended the stairs stealthily and found that she up her household goods in a of the big room. She had bright cretonne cover on couch and a crimson cushion broken-down easy chair. On a crack- ed marbletopped table was her housekeeping outfit—a small brass kettle, two blue cups and two blue plates. There were two solid-eilver spcons, ! aleo, »nd Kendal smiled ruefully as he looked at them. “If I were a bur- glar, instead of a poverty-stricken artist, she might have her troubles about that silver,” he said. He smelled the delicious fragrance taste of it as he finished the loaf and the cheese and washed down with a drink of water. the $ it as quaint as possible,” Kendal advised. He took out his pen- ;cil and on a bit of wrapping paper | of coffee at noon, and sighed for a sketched an outline. “You see, it'® day must be ankle Jength, with a pufing | them | around the bottom, and she must (rom the ocean. ‘wear & Hlac chiffon scarf around her It was summer, and | was oo the ! seashore. Desirous of getting away ! from every one. | started out for al walk on the beach. 1 had gone sever- al miles perhaps (I could have walked on the same stretch of sand for balf without meeting an obstacle) when I saw a bank of cloud coming in In a few winutes | + was enveloped in it. The wind that ’ ] He made up his mind that he must | shoulders and a wide bat with Hiacs | bad brought it fn died down to a dea let the girl know that he was in the house. She might hear him and be frightened. The next time that she went out, he waited for her on the front steps. She stiffened as he spoke to her. “Pleaso let me pass,” she sald hur- riedly. “You must let me explain,” he in- sisted, and she stopped. “I am a tenant in the house. At least,” he amended, “I simply. walked in and took possession. The property be- longs to my grandfather's estate—-it is in litigation, and remains empty from year to year. I am dreadfully down on my luck—I'm a painter of pictures, and the world doesn’t seem to want my work—and so I'm lving ' rent free.” “Why, I am, too,” she gasped, “only I haven't the excuse of it and roses.” “How daring!” Grace exclaimed. “But how perfectly beautiful!” In that moment Kendal came into his own. “If I can’t paint pictures, 1 can design costumes,” he decided. By day he made drawings for the big dressmakers, and at night he bent over Grace's - little table planning with her-the costumes which were to make her famous, and which were to bring sutomobiles and carriages to the door of the shabby house. “We're getting a big business,” Grace would say, gleefully, and Ken- Idl‘ found his heart beating at the | intimacy of the pronoun. Mrs. Blunt, scenting romance, |smiled over her embroidery. She bhad two peacock’s feathers to finish on a dull green satin gown, and she { was tired, but she felt refreshed and calm, and everything \v.as still 1 thought I hud my beariugs and turning, started back toward my bo- tel. But 1 was off my course, for 1 had not gone far before 1 stepped on the verge of a sballow indentation in the sand filled with water left by the outgolug tide. It was evident that 1 ‘M been walking into the ocean. 1 ltumod and started again, as | suppos- | ed, toward the dunes, but 1 must have swerved, for 1 walked on aud on for some time on sand. Then 1 stood still. It was a singular sensation. standing there, all direction obliterated—some- thing like being in perfect darkness or I on the ocean out of sight of land. No, 1t was like neither of these: it was like itself only. But | wondered if being suspended in space would resemble | | the sensation I experienced. Then sud- ! denly a voice came out of the sur- being my grandfather's house. But | helped by the sight of the happiness | rounding vapor. It was a girl's voice, I knew it was empty, and it was that, or charity, and so I took the chances. on the two young faces. “They're just made for each other,” sounding as clear and distinct as If | spoken in the stagnant atmosphere fol- T am a dressmaker, and I know I can | she concluded “if theyll only find it lowing a snowstorm. make money if I have a place to work in. I've been sick and lost my place with Madam Julie—I'm going to pay back every penny of rent— please belleve that.” “I do,” he said, earnestly, “and I'm going to move out and let you have a clear fleld.” “Oh, I don’t want to drive you away—would it be absolutely con- | scienceless for me to take a boarder? | help me with my work, and she dfll il | “Isee,” Kendal nodded. “Now, sup- <« ' pose we quit our consclence this way. I'll draw up an agreement in which | we shall promise to pay such sum as shall be deemed adequate for the rent of our rooms on demand. Then, when we have made the necessary amount, We can hunt up the ageat nad square things with him.” “What a perfectly lovely idea,” she agreed. “I'll run right over and tell Mrs. ‘Blunt.” Mrs. Blunt was a motherly old soul. She was radiant over the adventure. “I's like being cast up on a desert island,” she said. “Why can't we com- bine our supplies, and I'll cook for the crowd?” “The thought of coffee is heavenly,” said Kendal. He went out and spent his last quarter on fresh rolls and a box of berries. “There,” sald, as he set them down. “Let’ drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die!" He Stored Them In the Fireplace. “No, we don’t,” sald the grl. whose e e U The Wilson Hardware Co. Place of Business Is where you SHOULD GO at all times for HARDWARL Building Material Such as Lime, Cement, Brick, Wall Plaster, Sash, Doors, Oils Paints, Stains & Varnishes § Stoves, Ranges, Oil and Gasoline Boss Ovens Farming Implements, Plows, Caultivators Garden Tools, Hoes, Rakes, Hand Plows Our highest Ideals are Quality ano Service Come to see us and let us supply your needs i There’s an old lady who is going to | ! wants a room the worst way, but I out.” | And they did find it out, and the i day came when thye packed their be- ilongings and left Mrs. Blunt in | charge of the big house and salled !lvuy to Italy, where Kendal painted pictures to his heart’s content, and | where Grace wore some of the gowns which she and her lover had designed for others. For the grandfather’s estate was settled suddenly, and Ken- s share was big enough to make marriage possible; and who else should he marry but the little lady of | bis heart? PHRASES THAT HAVE LIVED Foollsh Sayings Unaccountably En- dowed With a Most Remark- able Vitality. Or was “Who Kissed Henrletta? | only one of many queer street cries | that are spoken and heard for a sea- ‘son? Who first shouted: “Ah there!” ' expectant of the answer: “Say : there!”? In London the foolish cry: “How's your poor feet?” was long in i fashion. It was first heard, they say, about 1862. When Henry Irving re- vived “The Dead Heart,” in 1890, some one wrote: “When the play was brought out originally, where one of the characters says: ‘My heart fs dead, dead, dead!' a voice from the gallery nearly broke up the drama with: ‘How are your poor feet?” The | phrase lived.' Now “The Dead Heart” was first produced at the Adel- | phi, London, in 1859, so the phrase must have been heard before 1862 | It this story be true. Precision in ,-uch cases is suspiclous. When a ,man tells you he will repay a light 5| | loan next Wednesday in front of the Park Street church at 11:30 a. m.— ;"l may be a few minutes late"—you . know full well that you will see his | face no more. Others say: “How's | your poor feet?" dates from the ex- | hibition of 1851. Or take the Parisian cry: | Lambert! Astu vu Lambert?” “Ohe The wise men will tell you that on August I 15, 1864, a woman from the country, arriving for the Napoleon festival, lost her husband Lambert at the raflway station and went about Parls bawling for him. Is the story credible? ‘When we were young boys we were soundly thrashed at home for saying apropos of nothing “Widow who?" which was followed by “Under what + bridge?” An annotated catalogue of { the street phrases of all nations would be entertaining and educative.—Bos- ton Herald. The Big Hat In Germany. A man has inserted the following advertisement in & Halle newspaper: “Required—House in the neighbor- hood of Halle, size, rent, situation, length of lease no object provided the door is large enough to admit my wife’s new hat. When wearing it she cannot get through the door of my present residence and is therefore obliged to stay with a friend."—Berlin Correspondence London Standard. To kuaid the 8,000,000 books in the vew York library against the rav- 1808 of bookworms and other insects, vhich feed upon the paper, the glue on the backs, and the cloth and leath- er bindings, constant care is ex- ercised, and & keen watch kept for any evidence of thelr activities. One woman is assigned exclusively to this work. When treating the books, she wears a huge apron which completely covers her gown. A cheesecloth veil protects her face against the germs which lurk in the musty documents, and even the air she breathes is screened against contagion. Close touch is kept with the health depart- several sticks with Ppowder last Sunday night; and I know ;flcy lives near me, and to town and bought a mew | | fesing | 4o has | “Here I am.” 1 was so startled at the sudden break of the surrounding oblivion that it did not occur to me to make a sound my- self. There was something In the change from f{solation to contiguity that seemed like passing from nothing- ness to life. Then, too. the deunsity of the atmosphere imparted a melodious toue to the voice that harmonized with a chord in my own being. ty of time within a few seconds to feel all these things before | said: “And here am L.” Sound does not of itself give direc- tion, and | knew not whence the words I had heard came. But in an-! other moment the fog directly before me darkened, then resolved itself into a girl's figure. Seeing me, a stranger ‘to her, she stepped back, then stood still. “Are you lost?” | asked. “Indeed 1 am,” was the reply. “A girl friend and I were caught in the fog. She stepped out ahead of me ! and we became separated. 1 called her.” “I would be happy to guide you,” 1 said, “but 1 am unable to guide my- self. However, you had better permit me to stand by you till the fog lifts.” “I'm afrald my frilend may heave walked into some quicksand or water or womething. B8he was with me a few minutes ago and has suddenly disappeared.” ‘““Call her,” I suggested. “Helen, Helen!" called my compan- fon. She elicited no response. “We may as well go on,” I said; | “doubtless .we shall come out some- { where. Don% worry about your friend. | . There are no quicksands on this beach.” | We moved—in what direction we knew not—and chatted as we proceed. | ed. There seemed a great change, a great rellef from the preceding isola- tion to this companionship., 1 certain- Iy felt it, and the girl kept very close | to me, as If fearing she might lose me | as she had lost her friend. “What {s that?" she asked suddenly ! “What?" 8he pointed, but 1 saw nothing. She : told me that she had seen something ' dark moving beside us, but as soon as she spoke it quickly faded. | We went on for some time, but ali { was sand. The beach was broad, very broad, and the ebb tide went out a great distance. 1 did not wonder that we reached nothing different. Then 1 saw a dark spot moving near us. My companion saw it. too, and. frighten- ed, clung to me. I am not superstitious and had it not been for my companion would have sprung toward the spot to discover whether it was human. But I found : that clinging of a fair girl so delight | ful that I preferred to remain as I was. I reassured my companion in a whisper, putting my lips nearer than necessary to her ear and feeling her warm breath. [ kept my eyes on the spot while she turned her face toward me that she might not see it. 1 was pussied as to what it could be, but I believed it to be some animal, tbough 1 could hear no footsteps. “It must be a ghost!” | said In a husky stage voice, whereupon my com- panion clung to me the tighter, which was the effect I intended to produce. Suddenly the fog began to clear, and with that rapidity with which fogs sometimes take themselves away, and revealed the figure of a girl walking rapidly away from us. “Why, it's Helen!” exclaimed my companion. “I belleve she has been near us all the while.” “Helen!"” she called. The retreating girl stopped and turn- ed. 1 could see that the surprise she showed was feigned. She jolned us with an amused smile on her face andl confessed that she had heard the words “Here 1 am,” but, thinking to bother her friend. had remained silent. When ehe was about to reply she heard | my “And here am L" She had kept si- l lent to get a bit of fun out of it and had succeeded. We three in time became fast friends. 1 had plen- Did Service to Humanity. Captain Hutchinson, the dockmaster at Liverpool, is credited with hlvlnl| originated the reflecting lighthouse in 1763, and another great lmpmvem-t! in the invention of a light for light- lr was made by Lieutenant Drum- mond, who was the first to suggest the using of oxyhydrogen light. To- Aylheret-nodnxtrmkorm along any of the navigable coasts but 1ts modern lighthouse. +on horseback. | Damie was a courier in the Balkan | states while the people in llucedoflln were preparing for the revolution : against the Purks iu 1908 His work | was to carry messages between the towns, in each of which was a revolu- i tionary committee. Macedonia was tull of Turkish soldiers and Turkish robbers, both of whom oppressed tha' Christians. The soldiers patrolled lhel country, while the robbers swooped down on the farmers. appropriated ! their provisions and animals and, what | called for their undying vengeance, carried off their women. Damien at times carried his mes- | ages on foot, fighting his way through | ' underbrush, over the mountains and | crossing the streams either by fording . or on an improvised raft But be was I ) usually expected to cover considerable ! distances and at such times traveled | His horse—his unl;:e' reter—had been obtained for him :r::ll racing stock, since he neededl fleetness to escape from the askars, | or Turkish soldiers, who, should they | capture him, would torture, then put ! him to death. But Damien nlwnyli carried a tiny bottle of poison to en- | able him to escape the torture. i Often would Damien ride into a vil- lage and warn the inhabitants that ; their oppressors were on the way to- ward them, which meant that they| must expect to be looted. This would ! give time for the Christians to hide ar- | ticles of value and for the women to climb into the mountains and hlde.! But the great work done by the courier was carrying the messages of the or- I ganizers of the revolution and those of the revolutionary committees between the towns. ! One evening just before dark Da-: mien, loaded with messages that it captured would draw down on numer- { ous towns the wrath of the Turks—be- ing evidence that they were plotting ; rebellion—was riding along a road.| | Suddenly hys horse pricked up his ears, turning them to the right. Presently Damien heard the soft tread of horses’ hoofs on soft turf. They were In ad- vance of him, and he turned to go back, but as he did so he saw Turklsh horsemen leaving the timber for the road behind him. He determined to keep on. trusting to Peter’s speed, that bad saved him on so many occasions. | “Peter.” he sald, “vou must make the effort of your life. Never would a capture of dispatches with which 1 have been Intrusted resuit so disas- trously to so many of our friends as now.” Peter may not have understood what each word meant, but he knew by his master's tone that a supreme effort must be made. He heard the tread of horeemen making for the road iu ad- vance of him as well as that of those behind. Gathering his legs under him, he made a spring that was followed by another and another in quick suc- cession. He succeeded in passing the point where the advance Turks enter- ed the road several hundred yards ahead of him. The pursuers sent shots after him, but did not hit either him or his horse. ! Peter, as usual, carried his master away from his enemies, but there were other parties out looking for Damien, who had been informed upon by Po- maks, Mahometan citizens of the coun- try, who were ever ready to give the Turkish soldiers inforwntion of Chris- tian rebels. Feaiiug to weet others, Damien turned ofi Lie road aad enter- ed a field. It was now quite dark. and he could not be seen beyond a very short distance, and his horse's tread was not likely to be heard on the soft ground. There are many irrigating ditches in that country, and Peter stumbled into one of them that was covered with long grass. He went down. He tried to rise, but could not. Damien got off his back and examined him One of , his fore legs was broken. | That meant the death of the horse and probably the death of his master, for now the courier could hear Turkish ' cavalry all about him. What should be do—leave Peter and get away on foot? It seemed the only thing to do But he would not leave him to die in pain. He would kill him, but not by a bullet, for that would be heard by the ' Turks. While he was planning he beard the Turks about him searching ' for him. He was surrounded. | Damien knew that he had carried his last message. His first thought was ' for the dispatches he carried. He ' could not burn them for the light they would make. Tearing them into bits, be lifted a stone under water In the bottom of the ditch, thrust them un- | der and let the stone fall on ttmu‘ Thenh.murndtnhhhomudmt his arms about him, holding Peter's ; bead against his breast. X “Peter, dear Peter,” he sald. “we ' will die together.” | Taking the poison he always carrted ' —prussic acid—he emptied most of it on Peter's tongue. horse was still. Then, pouring the rest of it on his own tongue, he fell forward. The Turks found courier and horse dead together, one of Damien's arms about Peter’s neck. They knew whom they had taken and searched him and about him for his dispatches. But they aid not think to look under a stone at the bottom of the ditch, and even If they had found the papers it m;g:hlli in their wet and muddy , If they could have deciphen ed them. 5 In a State of Doubt. “Your legal department must be very expensive.” “It is” sighed the eminent trust magnate. “Still, | sup- Pose you have to maintain it?" “Well, I don’t know. Sometimes 1 think it would be cheaper to obey the law."— Birmingham Age-Herald. AMBS WHITCOMB RILEy % ay 1" What's the odds botwixt iy Comin-goir, ev'ry day- Howdy-dgand then, good- Mixes jes' like and cry, Deaths and births,and worst and Tangle » d their contrariest; Evry jinglin' weddin™-bell Skeerin’Op some fonert knell- Here's my song,and there's yoy dv-do, and then, good-by! e One’s rumnin’ this conce got nothin’ else to lean He=s Wl;gl;\l woll poll thro Daddy’s Bed The Plan Of the Story— "o« VELYN bad been playing with ber paper dolls almost al of course, was not very much uterested in paper dolls, be did like about Evelyn's paper doll family was that o ways requiring new clothes. And Jack bad the most ¢ box! He thoroughly enjoyed painting beautiful bats and go Evelyn was always so pleused because be made them such very it When daddy came home be found all the paper dolls dressed up ing and looking very One. “They are to bear the story, t0o.” said Bvelyn. “Tell us about the crickets,” suggested Jack. “We beard soch a noise this evening. We were quite certain they must b iag a party.” “Why, of course,” said daddy. “Tounight s the night for their ball. They bave besn getting ready for this for days and dan bave heard the guests arriving. They bayve asked ever so man In fact, | bave heard that the crickets sald it was to be the I beld in the cricket world. “All of the cricket band are out for the occasion, and the practicing for days, for they say they will play only the very mosic. “l fancy It wil be a wonderful bell, and no doubt it will i children awake, for, with all the music, the singing, the laughing 15 it will be bard for you to get to sleep. Perbaps it may even ke dollies awake.” 5 Evelyn smiled at this, for it pleased her to bave daddy speak ¢ dolls, especially as they were listening to the story too. “The crickets,” continued daddy, “bave invited the frogs, ti lizards and u number of moths to their ball. and they have all b make themselves uppear their very best for tonight. *1 have heurd that the crickets have prepared the finest of served after the dance is over.” “What have they planned to bave?" asked BEvelyn “They are going to have moss soup, watercress cutlets, stra fee and spring water to drink. Of course there may not be any D the strawherry ice, but at least it will have the color of strawh At this one of the paper dolls fell over on its face, so daddy tainly think it must be bedtime ™ PRetdn Jack Enjeys Painting Hats and Gowne. $00004:0000000000 000000000 J.B. STREAT! CONTRACTOR AND BUlI..IJ‘ Having had twenty-one years’ and contracting in Lakeland and vicinity, 1 feel © to render the best services in this line. If comtd hunlging. will be pleased to furnish estimates and i mation. All work guaranteed. Phone 169. Lo tad gttt 222 2T TN Ty J. B. STRE WE SELL FOR CAS WESELL BV ER Y THING PORLESS Sugar, 16 pounds ........... Bacon, side, per pound .... Bacun, cut, per pound . .... '{omatucs, can Fancy and Head Rice, pound Meal, 10 pounds for . . Grits, 10 pounds for ...... . Florida Syrup, per quart .. Florida Syrup, per gallon .. Good Grade Corn, per can . Good Grade Peas, per can ... . Pet Cream, per can ..... ... White House Coffee, per can Cracker Boy Coffee, per can ...... .... Grated Sliced Pineapple, per can Roast Beef, per can e Bulk Coffee, per pound Flake White Lard, 10 pound pajl Flake White Lard, 4 pound pail . Catsup. Van Camp’s, per bottle .. Irish Potatoes, per . Sweet Potatoes, per peck . 5 N’vy Beans, per pound Lima Beans, per pound . Brookfield B: