Lakeland Evening Telegram Newspaper, April 17, 1915, Page 6

Bp Augustus Goodrich Sherwin (Copyright, 1915, by W. G. Chapman.) Plain, honest John Edgerly drove the plow steadily and cheerily. It was not much of a farm plat his parents had left him, but it brought him in a living. More than once he had been tempt- ed to sell out and invest in some small business in the brisk, promising city. He had become cured of that, how- ever, during the last month. Several venturesome young fellows like him- | self had tried metropolitan ambition and had returned home seedy, dis- consolate and sick of an experience that had turned out hollow and un- | friendly. Then, too, just that bright, lovely morning John had made up his mind to something. He had been keeping company with Vera Brooke for some time back. Vera was modest and hum- ble as himself, but he believed she | liked him. “I'll settle down,” ruminated John contentedly—“yes, that’s the best way.” It looked so to him. make an ideal wife. poor, she would appreciate a good home. Small as the little homestead was, it was comfortable and fairly furnished. Love would beautify it. They would work together and save, and some day they might own a better place in the town, like Judge Grinnell and his haughty empress of a daugh- ter, Ivy. “I'll ask Vera this very evening,” resolved John, and was happy in the thought, “Whoa!"” John, just finishing a furrow, looked up to discover a buggy halted just beyond the fence. In it sat the very object of his recent thoughts— the judge and his daughter. The former leaped from the vehicle as if John was his greatest friend in the world. Miss Grinnell smiled at him Vera would —a thing she had never done before. | Hello!" wp? The judge hurried through the fence rails muttered John, “what's 3 ! . i '3 = g FTT(S Overheard the Judge and His Daugh- ter Conversing. of great news He grasped John's hand,and shook it feverishly. “Jehn,' he said, “I'm going to starn tle you.’ “About what?' inquired the young farmer. “You had an uncle, Josiah Whitby, 1n the city? “My mother's brother, yes,’ nodded John “He's dead, and he has left you a fortune of twenty thousand dollars in money. or as good as money.” “Why,” observed John, quite calmly and thoughttully, “what about his son, Randal? y “Dead two years ago.” “And Randal's family?” “They don't count,” asserted the judge. “You are the heir. The ex- €cutor has just written me, asking me to see you and advise with you. As your lawyer I inform you that there is no doubt of the legacy. All you have £ot to do is to come to the city with us—=" + "Us?" repeated John. “Yes, 1 was going to the city any- explained Miss Grinnell sweet- I¥, "so papa dear says I had better go at this opportunity.” “If I've got twenty thousand dollars coming to me,” remarked John, “why don't they send it to me?" “Formalities, my boy,” announced the Judge effusively. “There's some legal proceedings to go through. We had better leave at once, John. And, Her folks were ! | torney still professed to be settling He looked excited, the bearer | servative, and, in & measure, suspl- clous. ! “Judge,” he said finally, “this may be all right, and again it may not. } Mind, I don’t doubt your word, but it will cost me something to visit the city. I'll have to get a new suit. I'll need some cash to live there, even | for a few days. I have only a little money saved up. I hate to risk it.” “Risk it? Risk it?” shouted his visitor. “Why, I'm 8o sure of my state- ment that T will loan you a hundred or two, and if the expectation fails ycu need never pay me back. ‘That'’s fair,” said John, in his blunt, practical way. It was settled that John was to get | ready at once. The judge never let him out of his sight. John arranged to have a neighbor attend to the little farm during his absence. He longed to see Vera and tell her the good news. The judge, however, stuck to Him like a brother. Two hours later, quite a reconstructed John, the young farmer was aboard a train, seated be- side the judge's daughter, bound for the city. John was quite flattered by the at- tention of Miss Grinnell. In fact, she somewhat attracted him. They all went to the same hotel. For two days ! the judge left the young folks a good deal of themselves. He claimed to be court. John said some foolish things to his fair companion. In fact, she flirted quite outrageously with him. The judge rallied him on the circumstance. “Go in and win her, boy,” he whis- pered in John's ear one day. “She's worth it,” and he chuckled and poked John jocularly in the ribs. Evenings they went to the thea- ter. It was a new and rare experi- ence for John. Then, as the days dragged by and his self-appointed at- up the case, John began to get impa- tient, One evening he overheard the judge and his daughter conversing. He learned that the former was bent on entrapping him as a rich son-in-law. John thought of Vera at home He was ashamed of having ever thought of any love but hers. He made a sud- den resolve. The next morning he went away on a still, personal hunt for the executor of his uncle's estate. He was gone for several hours. The judge scanned him closely when he returned. “Something to say to you, John,"” he observed in a confidential way. “My poor girl, Ivy.” & “Why, what about her?” inquired John wonderingly. “I see she is mourning for fear you . may desert her. Why don't you epeak | out and get the engagement ring at once?” “You think she would have me?” ked John, with a peculiar expres- | sion in his eye. “I do,” assured the lawyer. “Perhaps not, when I tell you what I have done,” spoke John coolly. “I've been to see the executor of my uncle's estate. Why, his son left a widow with three little children unprovided for.” “What's that to us?” demanded the judge. “Everything to me. It seems that my cousin Randal was estranged from his father through a mistake. I have learned that on his death bed my uncle wished to' change his will, for he had learned of the wrong he had done his son.” “Well, he didn't change it,” re- marked the judge, “No, but I have. You think I'd rob those dear little children of their rights! No, sir! I've seen them. I've made over all my claim to the es- tate. I say, judge, how about marry- ing your daughter now?" “Bah!" shouted the infuriated judge, and strode from the room baffled. Miss | Grinnell passed by John with a con- temptuous sneer an hour later. John did the right thing. He has- tened back to Vera and told her every- ' thing. She called him a noble man ! for his great unselfish sacrifice, and ' blushingly but gladly said “Yes” to a certain very imperative question. And their reward came. The day they were married, the executor of his ! uncle’s estate appeared at the little farm. The widow of John's cousin had insisted on dividing the twenty thou- ’ sand dollars with the happy newly- | ‘wedded couple. Carpets on Pavements. ! Aniline dyes have not added to the reputation of the carpets of Persia. At one time the only dyes used in the Persian carpet industry came from in- digo, madder, and vine leaves. From these were evolved many delicate | D Window-seat, her arm over Bob- | stripped shades impervious to the action of sunlight. With aniline dyes the colors fade much more rapidly. In Persia you may see new rugs lnl’Cll’ on the floors of bazaars, so that many feet | may tread on them. By such hard | wear—provided the colors are fast— the genuine article improves in ap- pearance, acquiring an attractive gloss. A Persian carpet of the best kind has & marvelous number of stitches, and a hearthrug of pure silk may cost hundreds of dollars. The First Tumblers. The glasses we now know as tum- blers differ widely from the drinking vessel to which the name was first ap- plied. These appear to have been of metal or wood, and from their peculiar shape seem to have served as per- petual reminders to pass the bottle. One authority says they were called closing up the estate in the probate |. | Btreet. i baltour than little Bobble could By EMMA LEE WALTON (Copyright, The Frank A. Munsey Co.) Mary sat by the front window, crouched down, watching. Her eyes were red with recent tears, but she spoke bravely and without a tremor to someone in the other room. i “There are some boys out here play- ing tag,” she said with a poor imita- tion of a laugh. “One of them just | fell into a puddle. He looks so funny.” | “When Billy went to West Point he said there wouldn't be anybody to fight,” the littlest brother submitted shakily. “’Less it was Indians. Now they send him to war.” S Mary drew a quick breath. Thelr mother was sewing in the library while Lionel read aloud to her, and she must not hear. She must not think they weren’t being brave, too. “Come here, Bobbie,” Mary sald softly. “From here you can see 'way up the street.” i The littlest brother came gladly, be- cause he was lonely and forlorn. On the wide window-seat it was brighter, and one could see a telegraph boy a block away if one came. Then, too, Mary would talk, and mother was 80 | silent it frightened a body. Ever since | the newspaper had said, yesterday, | that an officer, a lieutenant of the Forty-second, had been killed away off there, mother had not slept, and she was 80 white— It seemed there were not many lieutenants in C company of | the Forty-second, and somebody named Censor had held back the name, | “Will the president telegraph, Mary?” he asked in a whisper. “Do you think it's Billy, do you?” Mary was gazing wild-eyed at a boy | in blue who came whistling down the What should she do if he came to their steps? Could she get there before he rang? How could she | tell mother, how could she? “If it is Billy, will they put flowers on his grave, Mary?" the littlest brother asked. “Mary, is that boy coming here, is he?" “No,” Mary said with a little gasp. “He's gone to Mrs. Winthrop's. 1 sup- pose their aunt is coming to visit. Go open the door for the postman, there's & good boy. The postman is coming, mother,” she called. “Bobbie is get: ting the mall.” Thus wouid mother be saved the fear that a message had come. Lionel closed the book, and she could hear him speaking with a brave jocularity. “Well, we'd have heard by this time, anyhow. 1 said all along there wasn't anything to worry about. It isn't as it he were all alone. He's got a lot of friends in the regiment, you know, and somebody'd wire. They'd have plenty of time, because they never do much the day after a fight.” Bobbie brought in the mail, all cast aside for the picture postals from Billy which they admired while mother read his fat letter in silence. It was the custom to read Billy's letters aloud, but no one wanted the task now. Each could read by himself, except the lit- in a whisper on the window-seat. Deep down in their hearts they knew they might have worse than this to bear, with Billy's cheery letters coming every little while, even though Billy himself were lying silent in another land, under the flag of the alien, the enemy. How could they bear it then? The telephone rang (insistently, harshly, and Lionel, who was not wor- times. The color came back to his face as he listened. “It’s father,” he said at once. “he says,” Lionel added after a moment, | “he says that headquarters has had no news, and he thinks that is encourag- ing. They would have heard, he thinks, He is coming home early.” Father could not do any business, then? What mattered it whether there any business done any more; what mattered anything? Mary, on bie's shoulder, could see, hundreds of miles away, the little group of men fighting desperately against the ad- vancing hordes and one by one falling where they had stood, guarding the stores. A lieutenant was very young, Just out of the Point, gay, debonair, af- fectionate, home-loving boy that he was! So the time dragged along and fa- ther came home. He talked about business and the men who had been in to see him, about & runaway horse that had upset a banana cart, and about a story in a magazine, but he sald no word of Billy. He and mother sat side by side as he talked, and when mother lald her hand on the arm of his chair he put his hand over hers and beld it. The papers tossed on the lbrary table no one had touched. The wild excitement over the war, the thrill at news of battles, by the way, as your lawyer I request | “tumblers” because they could not be | the patriotic anxiety to do something that you keep this a secret until your \ return.” set down except on the side wheam empty; and another derives their name to help had left them under the cloud of a possible personal loss. Billy! SOk FaNAGl Mt thth mflectluly.! from their original shape, rounded at | \VbY. it was only last winter he had He was quite stunned with the good fortune announced. Still, he was con- Tommy's Costly Vietory. Mrs. Bacon—“What's the matter with Tommy’s face and hands? They are badly swollen.” Mrs. Egbert— “You see, they offered a prize at his school for the boy who would bring in the greatest number of dead wasps, asd Tommy won.” Not So as to Be Noticed. “Pa, when you say you're laying fof @ person it means you have a grudge against him, doesn’t it?” “Generally, my son “Well, has the hen & the bottom so that they tumbled over unless they were carefully set down. We Conquered Nature. “Yes, gentlemen,” said the geolo- gist, “the ground we walk on was once under water.” “Well,” replied the patriotic young man of the party, “it simply goes to show that yom can't hold this country down.” Firet Gold Found In California. The first discovery of gold in Call fornia was made in 1848 by James Marshall, who happened to pick up & glittering nugget in the bed of & lon dollars in gold. Marshall died & Poor man. been with them, acting like a small boy, with more charming pranks in a Varied Menu. The chorus girl dines one day ea & crust and the next on a crustacean— New York Evening Mail. Unbusinessiike Transaction. Probably the smallest money order ever sen' ‘rom Eatonton, Ga. was sent recently. A man walked into the post office, asking for a mo~ 2y order for three cents, which he owed to his cent stamp to send the. order. think up in a day. “He was 8o thoughtful,” mother whispered, speaking at last to the strong man beside her. “Do you re- member how he brought home those mint candies because he knew I was fond of them? And how he got up in the middle of the night to oil his squeaky door for fear the wind’s blow- ing it might keep me awake? Doesn’t it seem as though anything under all the heavens would be easier to bear than suspense like this?” Bobbie, thinking only of the fact that mother must not be allowed to worry, looked*about for aid at this mo- ment. Mary had gone back to the window-seat and Lionel had disap- peared, so, as father did nothing but stroke his wife’s hand, his face drawn and queer, Bobbie stepped bravely into the breach. “Mother,” he said shakily, “you re- member wunst I swallered a brass bell off my reins? Well, now, mother, it's beginning to hurt something awful right round here.” Bobbie’s hand roved indefinitely, un- certainly over the region he supposed to cover his little stomach, but his heroic announcement did not have the desired effect. Instead of rising, hor- ror-sticken, to save him, his mother most unexpectedly seized him and gathered him up like a very tiny boy into her lap, where he was still sitting, disgracefully babied, when Lionel ex- citedly burst in. “l went over to the drug store,” Lionel cried, with a thrill in his voice which they all felt. “It isn’t Billy, it isn’t Billy! It was a man named Smith, and he lives in St. Louis, and I found out by telephoning the Tribune. And it isn’t Billy, it isn't Billy! I was afraid to telephone from here because it might have been. I knew there wasn’t anything to worry about. Oh, mother, it isn’t Billy!” Mothers are very queer things, very queer. Here was their mother, who had been silent for thirty hours or so, Just sewing on Bobbie’s new waist all | the time they didn’t know whether it was Billy or not, and then, when they knew it was a fellow named Smith, | she just put her head down on father's shoulder and cried pitifully. And all father did was to pat her on the back and say: “There, dear, there!” while two great tears rolled down his own cheeks unheeded. Lionel knelt beside her and put his arms around her as best he could with Bobbie in the way, and Mary crouched down on the other side, as near as she could, her face turned away from him. Mary Drew a Quick Breath, Mary was crying, too! didn’t quite understand. “I sald it was not Billy,” he iepeat- ed. “There isn't any mistake, either. Perhaps they er's down there, too. 1 thought you'd say ‘Thank God!’ or something.” Mother put her hand on Lionel's shoulder and patted it gently. “I do say ‘Thank God!' dear,” she said through her tears. “But we must not forget in our own.great gladness that it was somebody's boy.” Lionel sat flat on the floor, his long length across the rug, and gazed straight ahead. Shorn of its fife and drum, its trumpet and shining banner, of its might and power, its charm and triumph and glory, he tasted war. Curiosity of Wives. Curiosity is most destructive to hap- piness. Eve started the fashion thow sands of years ago and Eve's daugh- ters have followed it ever since. It is Dot wnusual to hear of the woman who escorts her husband home from his office. She has a pertectly insane curjosity regarding all his actions, so makes a habit of dropping in on him at unexpected moments. She will veri- fy every word or excuse the poor soul says. She will even read his corre- spondence. This is inexcusable. Any man would justly resemt such intru- sion, and while a wite's place is a sacred one, an honorable man's private affairs are just as sacred. Hence Mud Slinging. “I presume that after a man has been in politics awhile he learns a zmg many things he didn’t know be- “Yes, and they're usually about the other fellow.” Goat Is Regimental Pet, The everyday goat is responsible for the nickname of the Royal Welsh fu- sfleers—the “Nanny Goats.” A goat is the regimental mascot and is led at the head of the column. On St Da- vid's day, in the officers’ mess, the goat, escortea by drums and fife, is marched around the table. ——— Credit Belongs te Labor. It we rightly estimate things, what them is purely owing to nature and what to labor, we shall find that nine- parts of a hundred are wholly ::t on the account of the labor. | (Copyright, :'9::.2“:.\15;1""::‘:; '_": "b' | Mary Anne turnec from the bo: fice :'fter securing her seat for the matinee on the following Sfl"”""-“d She would have left the foyer an( gone out for the pleasant Jaun! through the shops but for the fact th:t her attention was attracted to the poor little woman who stood forlornly holding a tiny infant in her arms. The woman had been arguing quietly with the boxoffice man, but to no ":I"vam sorry, madam, but infants in arms are not allowed in the theater. It is against the laws of the house. There was finality in the young 's voice. '"?x"nn her usual impulsiveness Mary Anne approached the woman and made inquiry. W “I can't go in with 'im paid my wa‘y in from Bexhill 2 My friends are up there now. They 1"' be wondering what's 'appened to me. | “Couldn't T take care of the baby while you go up and see the panto- mime? T have the whole afternoon free. Do let me.” ! Mary Anne saw the woman through the doorway, then turned with herl charge, wondering what her impulsive | nature had got her into this time. | Mary Anne lived in the suburbs, | herself. She remembered the huge | open fires that she had seen in the; Liverpool station when she had come in the morning to business. She soon arrived beside the warm | fire without mishap. She had not been comfortably ensconced there for a pal- try five minutes before the infant showed most positive signs of dissatis- faction with Mary Anne’s treatment of him. He wailed softly at first but’ persons in the waiting room stared | or, more truthfully, glared at Mary Anne, while one or two men walked disgustedly out of the station. The girl was distracted. She wished she had never wanted to see “Jack and the Beunstalk.” She pined ! for knowledge of the care of infants | & and determined to study up Doctor Holt without loss of time. The fact the baby let slip the bottle his moth- er had given Mary Anne brought a | deep flush to the girl's cheeks. | A young man, who had been surrep- titiously watching Mary Anne's fran- tic efforts to pacify the baby came over and picked up the fallen bottle and presented it to her. “Is there anything I can do for you?" he asked, and he seemed 8o | likely to know more than she did about infants that Mary Annesmiled | gratefully. “There may be & pin stick- ing him—have you looked?" “No-o,” said Mary Anne. know just where to look.” “Great Scott! Who dressed your baby? Let me have a look?” He took the baby from Miss Anne's arms very firmly but gently and Mary Anne heaved a sigh of rellef. The young man certainly knew how to handle a baby. “No doubt you have several of your own?" she vouched only half aloud. “No—not gullty. 1 am a doctor. | That {s why I had the temerlty to offer my assistance. There seems noth. ing wrong with the kiddie. Wouldn't he take his milk?" “No,” Mary Anne said with a wist- ful smile that sent a wave of peculiar emotfon over the young man. “He didn’t seem to want it.” “Maybe you gave it to him too hat,” suggested the doctor. |4 “Hot! Tt was stone cold” She gazed fearfully at the baby. “Cold milk for an infant! a fine mother,” mented. “But T am not his mother,” protest- ed Mary Anne with a rush of color to her cheeks. “I don’t know a thing about babies.” “Quite unnecessary information,” | % laughed the doctor, somehow very much relieved that Mary Anne was not the infant's mother. He had been wondering how 80 neat and dainty a xh'bl.:mlld take such wretched care of & y. Mary Anne told him of her adven- ture with a shy smile. She marveled how the baby had become wonderfully contented in the doctor's arms, “T suppose you wouldn't mind show- ing me the number of your seat for Saturday?" Doctor Cosgrove asked ! tentatively as they went toward the theater with the sleeping baby. “I have been intending to see ‘Jack and the Beanstalk.' " His guilty expression Anne that the pantomime entered his head before. “My seat is No. 14D quickly, Mary Anne blushed hotly and Doe- | tor Cosgrove burst into hearty laugh- ter when the little mother of the in- :::t came beaming from the thea. | “Your misses has been an angel! wish I could give her as much h.—ml piness as she has given me today.” “I think you have done more—for us,” the man said Quickly, and cast 5 glance at Mary Anpe. “She is not m; ‘misses’—at present.” he addeq nn; | Yent over to the boxoffice to see i h_r‘;wld secure No. 13, | @ smile in his eyes to her side told M:ry .A'n:eer:;::n;: | had been successful, anq she, too,.; | x of- | “I didn't oo o SO BB EPEETIEE R L e e e a2 You are the doctor com- told Mary had never she said smiled. i . Greatest Fault, ! ® greatest of faults {g to be 3 sclous of none—Thomas Cnlylmm — Expensive Wood, One of the most expensive w. used regularly in an establighed ip. | dustry in the United States is box- | vorite matert, Carving It has been qu:tlt;ozt‘;'o‘od cents a cubic inch, ang about §1 3:; by the thousang board feet —— How Ivy Benefits T extensiv, _— Do did BOE bbb bbb dddd bbb bbb WHO GETS THE MONEY YOU EARN? DO YoU Gerpy DOES:SOMZBODY ELSE WHO DOES NOT EARN 177 YOUR “ERRNING POWER” CANNOT LRSTEALWAYS, WHILE YOUARE MAKING MONEY BANK IT ANDBE FOR OLD AGE. JUST DO A LTTTLE THINKING. oruy wn’u US. WE PAY 5 PERICENT INTEREST ON TIME DEPOSITS, American State Bopj “BE AN AMERICAN ONE OF us.” iFlour! Flour! F Now is the Time to Lay In a Supply &2 98 Ib. Sacks Best Plain Flour 24 Ib. Sacks Best Plain Flour 12 Ib. Sacks Best Plain Flour 98 Ib. P38 1.0 5k Srlf-Rising Flour 40 L. 6. TWELDELL We Know Not What’s Before Us But you'll know that you have A Load of Good Sound Luber behind you, when h perched on your wagon. omeward bound, after having been Loaded in our Yards WE SELL THE BEST s T Lakeland Manufacturing Company LAKELAND, FLA. e PHONE ——— Where He Drew the L the trial of somé Charles Lamb remarke “should like to koo¥ them to dinner.” ’;"‘ with them?" ask Solemnly. “Yes, 1 would sit ¥ thing but a hen or a tatlor”