Lakeland Evening Telegram Newspaper, April 20, 1915, Page 6

HOME FOLKS ARE BEST Revelation That Came to Girl About to Elope. By JOANNA SINGLE. The oool stillness of the September evening came into the little upper room where Drusilla sat huddied on the floor with both arms on the win- dow sill while she waited for the dusk to become darkness. She hardly breathed, though she knew that her door was looked, that she was “"a first-class scoundrel—just a cheap ' first tone she recognized was Max's voice, and despite herself a great rellef and sense of safety crept over her. At CONTRACT least nothing dreadful could happen 3 R e with Max about. (Copyright, 1911, by Associated Literary Press.) “I'll be policeman, spy or anything else when it comes to her safety and happiness, you dog! She doeen’t have to marry me; I don’t want her to un- less she wants me more than she secms to, but at least I have put you out of commission! You're not evem impecunious as herself, and burst intc the living room. Her flushed face and sparkling eyes were pleasant to see. “Oh, girls,” she cried, “I'm so sor- {sneak! Do you suppose it took me Ty to be late when it's my night to | Clght Meadache, und that hor pureuts! 1906 10 got Jour Tecond looked up GGoL!" would not disturb her. It was a task | Whst &bout your being fired by Mat-| “Yes, you cruel creaturs, I'm for bar heart to keep on foeling hot|tox & Co? 'What did it cost your ' starved” joked Miss Mason “But and angry 80 that she could PeOP!® to buy them off from prose- What is the excitement you're trying leave thetn widout s word mad iy cuting you?" t0 Keep from bubbling over?” of to marry a man—any man—but Something inside Drusie stopped.| The other occupant of the room, | all one like Henry Main, ey had done their best to from her. They told her too young to know. Worse t, they wanted her to marry Max just because she had been en- gaged to him before Henry came into the neighborhood for his summer's vacation, At thought of Max she rose, smoothed down her blue serge skirt and put on her hat. Max had gone too far when he ordered her abso- lutely not to speak to the other man. She did not like jealousy. He would see now that he had made a mistake. It he had just asked her not to—but no, even then she could not have helped loving the older, more sophis- ticated man, with his tender, master- ful ways. She did nof"like to go to him in this way. Finally she heard the little clock on the shelf downstairs strike 10, and though she was shivering with fear and the misery of leaving her own little room, she slipped into the hall, her shoes in her hand. She walited, heard her father's deep breathing from the open room, and then slipped down the back stairs to the kitchen and out into the yard. ‘There was no moon, and Drusilla, child as she still was, shrank from going alone in the dark through the field to the bit of wood where he would be waiting for her. Max was always prowling about, since his farm was neighboring, and might ¥ Waited for Dusk to Become Darkness. come upon them. Now the slender girl stole about the barn where old Beauty, the mare, thrust out her head and whinnied softly for attention. Drusie stopped a moment to lay her face against the kindly old creature, and then passed through the orchard, trembling at every step, wondering whether in the morning her mother would cry, or whether she would Just look gray.and old as she had done when she saw that her daughter was dismissing, Max. N As she came to the bit of pasture between orchard and wood, she sud- denly remembered Henry, ‘and the magnetic half-hypnotism of him numbed her senses and made her for- get all but him. He would take care of her; he loved her; they would go to the city and real life would begin for her. Then she recalled her big, bluff, blue-eyed lover and his angry con- tempt for the other man, his injus- tice, his almost violence. As if she couldn’t tell a good man from a bad one. What right had he to forbid her to see any one she liked? By this, now fearless, she was en- tering the wood path where a little farther on was the big tree where Henry was waiting, and where under some bushes waited a suitcase with a few things she had taken out there, one by one, during the last few days. She almost laughed to herself to think she had reached the place with- out somehow meeting Max—he had been almost omnipresent the last few weeks, although she would not speak to him. Henry had gone back to the city, and even now no one was sup- posed to know that he was driving over for her from a neighboring town, from which they would later take a night train. She was glad she had not met Max. Once safe in the trees she gave a little low call like a quail and waited for an answer; but recelving none, called again, and then listened. What she heard was a crashing of bushes at some distance, and suddenly the angry voices of men. Instantly she bid herself, Probably Henry was waiting for these people to pass be- fore he showed himself. Flat on the ground under the brush the girl lay, her heart going like mad d Tommy’s Costly Victory. 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, sad Tommy won.” ! Not So as to Be Noticed A “Pa, when you say you're laying fo@ & person it means you have a grudge egainst him, doesn’t it?” ‘“Generally, my son” “Well, has the hen & grudge against the farmer, pa?"—Bos ton Transcrips. She loved honesty. The men had Miss Day, anticipating pleasant news, come 80 close that she might almost closed her desk. - ! have touched them, and she saw that i Illlx held the other man by his col- potatoes, but hungry enough to eat | lar, and that suddenly he broke away them,” cried Jane, “so come out with and aimed a blow at his captor. | me and I'll treat to a real dinner.” | In a moment the two were fighting° “My, but you're rash! You'll not | desperately, crashing into the bushes, ; be able to buy new shoes this week,” | Henry Main cursing. She was afraid warned Miss Day. they would tread upon ber, amd! “Be merciful and tell the news!” slipped up and hid behind a tree implored Miss Mason. | trunk. She wanted to call for help,| Jane swept aside a number of pack- | she wanted to stop them, but she ages and perched on the cleared space dared not move. They might hurt of the table. each other—he might—hurt lhx.. “I can't believe my good fortune,” Then she knew where her heart was, she began a trifie unsteadily. “Just Why didn’t Max speak? | as 1 was going out for lunch a stran- The thrashing about stopped, and ger, all togged up in stunning motor- peering about, she saw dimly that ing costume, asked if I could direct ! one man lay on the earth and that him to Miss Jane Carter, the interior alwmlndMMun« vul JANE CARTER'S| e o s wontet: soe “I'm too high in the clouds to fryl the other knelt upon him. To her infinite rellet it was Max who spoke. “Now, you get out of here, and if you want a decent home life go and try to win back the wife you abused until she divorced you, and be a father to the boy you're mot fit to have! But you let my girl alone! of the way she'll come to her senses. pretty confounded quick! I know you came here to meet her, and it would be like you to let her be frightened somewhere in the dark waiting for you!” “Let me up and I'll get out of here!” Max let him rise, and in an instant he was running, crashing off through the brush, Drusie found her voice—the dark was now a terror to her. “Max! Max!” Her call was clear and loud, and Max answered her. He came toward her, and she went trem- bling to meet him. “Are you—all right, Drusie?” Suddenly she went to him, putting both her hands on his arm. “Take me home,” she said, break- ing down and crying and sobbing. “Take me home!" about her and lead her from the wood and across the pasture, but he said nothing about loving her. The um- real, the dream of the man who had gone left her mind, and she saw how close she had been—not to a great danger to herself, but to the calamity of losing Max—if indeed she had not already lost him. “Drusfe,” he said at length, “I don't want a wife who doesn't want me. When you have made up your mind you can send for me and I will take your decision, But what I do want to know is whether you have seen enough tonight to make you sure you don’t want—that fellow. Do you?" She shivered. “You know I—hate him,” she breathed. “You know—I must have been crazy! You know I have never really wanted anybody but you! You know I want you to forgive me!” As they came to the barn old Beauty put out her head again, and Max laughed and turning to Drusie took her in his arms. “Home 1is best, isn't it? Even it home folks are common and plain. But they love you, girl!” As they came toward the house the girl’s father put his gray head from the window of his room. “Who's there?” he demanded bellig- erently. Max answered: “Only Max,” he said quietly, “I coaxed Drusie out a couple of hours ago. It took us a long time to make up. Sorry I'm bringing her in so late, She’s all right.” Drusie knew that her father's grunt was a grunt of deep joy. She knew he would sleep that night. (Co, t, by Assoclated Li ("fllhm:.y)l terary Meerschaum, Meerschaum mines in Nemlau have been worked.for 2,000 years it is claim- ed, and the process is simple. The mines, which at one time reached from. Kabe to Mihalitch, on the sea of Mar- oma, are concentrated around the city of Eski-Sebr, and give employment to some 5,000 miners. The mines are worked in the most primitive manner by a foreman and two to five work- men with picks. The depths of the pits vary greatly, and depend upon the depths at which a reddish-brown earth this red earth is found ounly a few yards beneath the surface, but or an at a depth of twenty yards, often , and even sixty. In this layer of red earth meerschaum fis found, disseminated in nuggets of ir regular shape. The size of these rare- ly exceeds twelve to sixteen cuble inches, the greater part are the sise ' of & walnut. No explosives are used, the ground being soft. Almost the en- | tire output is exported to Vieana, and | thence distributed to the various Euro- i pean countries and to the United States, the latter buying only the fin- eat selection.—The Argonaut. ' We Cenquered 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 youw can’t hold this country down.” Firet Geld Found In Callfornia. The first discovery of gold in Call fornia was made in 1848 by James Marsball, who bappened to pick up & glittering nugget in the bed of & stream. Since that time the state has yielded more than one and one-half bil lion dollars in gold. Marshall died & Ppoor man. Now, you can tell me where she is' He put a firm arm | is met, which is the first indication of | the existence of magnesite. Bommmuv ation for ber. decorator. 1 hated him to see that 1 ghabby bole of 3 gtudlg, but there was Do way out of it. He was awfully nice and didn’t look around a bit, and | sald I was recommended highly as | having excellent ideas and good taste. Isn't that lovely? He s the big, banker, Daniel Lord, and wants his ' country home decorated. He took me ’ the house is magnificent.” | “You deserve it, dear,” exclaimed Miss Day. “I can't tell you how glad .1 am that luck is finally coming your ' | way.” l I “Really, girls, it will take months to do it as he wishes it done, and while we were out there he suggested : one innovation after the other, and s | retaining me a great deal longer than | necessary to oversee detalls. Befnre' I left, he made me sign a contract— 'as if 1 would balk half way!" . “It's as well to have all that set- tled,” commented the business-like . Miss Mason, “Is he young, old or indifferent?” ; Iehimed in Miss Day. “Married?” | “About thirty-eight and unmarried! {Now I'll die if T don't get something to eat. If you love me, come!” groan- ed Jane, jumping off the table. They left the apartment and start- ed towards an Italian cafe, all takling at once. The sudden change in Jane's fortunes delighted the older girls. Jane was to start water-color drawings of the rooms the following day for Mr. Lord’s inspection. When the drawings were delivered Mr. Lord returned them personally and declared himself delighted, In- sisting upon paying a liberal retain- ing fee. “1 hated to take that money,” con- fided Jane, blushing a rosy red at the recollection of her discussion with Mr. Lord. “Mr. Lord declared that it was only good business to accept It.” “When your time {s taken for that length of time, you should be com- pensated,” declared Miss Day. “All the same, It seems so mate- rial,” sighed Jane. “You little dunce,” scolded Miss Mason; “all the big decorators do it. What have you to live on while this contract is on deck? It requires your exclusive attention and all other work must be dropped.’ As the decorating of the huge house progressed, Mr. Lord found it of such absorbing importance that he fre- quently called in the evenings to dis- cuss detalls. His great motor took Jage to any country houses of his friends which possessed unusual feat- ures, and the great banker always found time to go along and satisfy his thirst for decorative knowledge. These spins through the gorgeously colored October country were fairy- land to Jame. As they were fre- quently late returning to town, they dined at queer inns or picturesque farmhouses. Jane's frequent lateness seemed to pass unnoticed by her friends, and as her financial affairs i improved, certain luxuries, hitherto ' unknown, appeared in the apartment. | “Isn’t she the darling?" remarked Miss Day. “Just think of her trudg- ing all the way to the market for per- , slmmons because she knew 1 liked | them. Most girls would be too much taken up with their own affairs to think of others. She's ‘wonderfully unselfish.” 3 I “Indeed she 1s,” agreed Miss Ma- . “Do you know I have an idea that she is very fond of Mr. Lord in a delightfully friendly way, so let's i be careful not to spoll her innocent ' pleasure in his kindness and consider- | She is such a sensi- | tive little goose, and If she got the | 1dea that his interest is more for her than her work it would be a shock.” “He can't help admiring her work,” | answered the loyal Miss Day. “Neith- er can he help admiring such an earnest little worker. Jane is too sensible to misunderstand his kind- ness.” She got up to answer the doorbell and returned carrying a long box. | _“That's the third box of American Beauties this week,” she observed. “I hope he doesnt overdo it,” be gan Miss Day, anxiously. “If—" But Jane returned from the country The chorus girl dines one day ea & erust and the next on a crustacean— i ! i g il i -4 it T i 4 4 dream. “I hate to look around and see how little there is to be done. Two more weeks and I'm through.” “Maybe you'll get Mr. Lord’s town house to do over,” suggested Miss Mason, the practical. “No, Mr. Lord means to sell that Jane Carter rushed up the steps;toWn house and live exclu-lvelly in leading to the tiny l'p.rx:mgn; 'mcp; the country. Personally, I can’t un-| .o after securing her ‘e“t:l"’;a;he she shared with two artist friends as | 4erstand why anybody should desire| ,.iinee on the following Sa g such an enormous mansion.” “Very likely he means to announce his engagement,” observed Miss Day, holding a sketch at arm’s length and inspecting it critically. Jane gave an odd, hysterical giggle and jumped up quickly. “Good night, girls, I'm going to But on the threshold she turned. “Is there anything I can do for eith- er of you?” she asked. “That was brutal of you!” exclaim- od Miss Mason, severely. “It was rather raw to say that and I could bite out my tongue now,” answered Miss Day, regretfully. “It's like Jane, too, to forgive a person the second after a nasty dig and of- fer to do something for her. I never dreamed that she cared about him. Looks as though she does.” Miss Mason nodded slowly. “In that case I suppose it's better that the house will be finished so soonm,” she said moodily. The rapidly progressing work did not inspire Jane with any great amount of regret. Her pleasure in it ‘was suddenly gone. ; “I'll be happy when it is all over and done with," she told the girls. The last two weeks seemed to ‘calise her considerable réstleasness. “She has something on her mind a8 sure as anything,” observed Miss Mason. “If this contract is going to make her unhappy, I, for ome, am sorry that she ever got it.” “Here too!” replied Miss Day. “One jShe is mine, and when you're out there in his motor this afternoon and ' Cn easily see how she avolds dis- cussing the house or Mr. Lord, and that's not natural when a task has been well and speedily accomplished.” | One evening Mr. Lord brought Jane | home in his motor, as the slush was unspeakable. He stayed some little time talking about his plans for the future. Jane was noticeably silent. but it seemed an effort for her not to enter into the conversation. At last Mr. Lord arose. “The day Miss Carter says my house is fin- ished, you must all come out to a cel- ebration dinner. Now don't forget. I'm keeping a big surprise for that event! Isn't that so, Miss Carter?" he asked, smiling enigmatically. The second he was gone, Jane hur- ried off to her room. “I know what the surprise is,” an- nounced Miss Mason. “He has fixed up this house for his wife, and per- haps told Jane this evening coming into town.” “I don't know what ever I would do if he were to amnounce it that night,” groaned Miss Day. At last the house was completed. Mr. Lord called for the trio in his . motor, but scarcely a word was spok- en on the way out. The tour through the fresh, beautiful rooms filled the girls with sadness. Jane was unus- ually quiet, and even the lavish praise bestowed upon her failed to lift tfte vell of quiet which seemed to envelop her. She presided at the dinner table in an equally silent mood. At last Mr. Lord stood up, a glass of light wine in his hand. “Now for the surprise!” he cried, gayly. “We must drink to the future mistress of this house!" Miss Mason and Miss Day choked down a sip of the wine, and dared Dot look toward poor Jame. There was an awkward pause. “Won't you give me your good wishes, girls?”" asked Jane, in a wee, small voice. “You don't know hoW many times I have nearly let the cat out of the bag these last few weeks. The only safe course was not to talk at all” Then the astonished girls saw Mr. Lord put his arm around Jane's waist and draw her towards him. “Ladies—now drink it this time— to the future mistress of this house!” he exclaimed joytully. Dominion Fisheries Important. Those who know the extent and im- portance of the Canadian fisheries are not surprised that the Dominion guards her fishing interests so Jeal- ously. In 1908 the fish catch in Can- adian waters was valued at $25,461,- 085. That included all fish products and seals. The capital invested in the fisheries in that year was $15,508,- 276. The value of all vessels, boats, fishing implements, lobster Pplants, freezers and fish houses was em. braced in that total. A fishing fleet of 1,414 vessels was employed. Nine of the fleet were engaged hunting for seal. There also were 39,965 boats, manned by 71,070 men. It was no- ticed in that year that gasoline boats were being used more and more, and that the fishermen were profiting by it British Cavairy Lack Morses. The British army on mobilization will require 132,000 horses, and no one has the slightest idea where they can be found. Good authorities tell us that this number of animals of the military age does not exist in the country. With the growth of mechan. cal transport the necessity of taking steps to secure a supply of horses in war grows more and more urgent. We can not, unfortunately, mount our cavalry on taxicabs. We still breed the best horses in the world—but they are bought up for the use of foreign armies, while the British war office s counting its pence.—London Mall. Goat Is Regimental Pet, The everyday goat is responsible for pa- t, 1915, by the McClure News sl paper Syndicate.) Mary Anne turnec from the box of- he would have left the foyer and st:e’ out for the pleasant laun: through the shops but for the fact th: her attention was attracted to !l' poor little woman who stood forlornly holding a tiny infant in her lml!~ The woman had been arguing quietly with the boxoffice man, but to no avail. “I am sorry, madam, but infants in arms are not allowed in the thea It is against the laws of the house. There was finality in the young 's voice. m;:i:h her usual impulsiveness Mary Anne approached the woman and made inquiry. . “I can't go in with 'im and I've paid my way in from Bexhill. My triends are up there now. They'll be wondering what’s 'appened to me. “Couldn’t 1 take care of the baby while you go up and see the panto- mime? 1 have the whole afternoon tree. Do let me.” Mary Anne saw the woman through the doorway, then turned with her 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- Itry 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 ¢irl was distracted. She | wished she had never wanted to see | “Jack and the Beanstalk.” She pined | for knowledge of the care of infants ! and determined to study up Doctor Holt without loss of time. 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 so likely to know more than she did about infants that Mary Anne smiled gratefully. “There may be a 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?" ghe vouched only half aloud. “No—not guilty. I am a doctor. | That {8 why I had the temerity 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 emotlon over the young man. “He didn't seem to want it.” “Maybe you gave it to him too hat,” suggested the doctor. “Hot! It was stone cold.” | gazed fearfully at the baby. “Cold milk for an infant! \a fine mother,” | mented. “But T am not his mother,” protest- ed Mary Anne whh a rush of color to her cheeks. “I don't know a thing about bables.” “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 girl could take such wretched care of a baby. Mary Anne told him of her adven- ture with a shy smile. She marveled how the baby had become wonderrully contented in the doctor's arms. “I subpose 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 told Mary Anne that the pantomime had never entered his head before, “My seat is No. 14D, quickly, Mary Anne blusheq 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 a ' wish I could give her as muzl‘:e‘};ap! Pll:el! as she has given me today.” T think you have done more—for us,” the man said quickly, and cast a glance at Mary Anne, “She is not m: ‘misses’—at present,” he added, an: went over to the boxofice to l.ee it hnf;wla secure No. 13.p, @ smile in his eyes as h to her side told Mary A“eer:;::n:: had been successtyl smiled. *til. and she, too, “I didn’t She You are the doctor com- she said ——— = Greatest Fault, ® greatest of faults is to be con: stlous of none.—Thomas Carlylsmm —_—— Expensive Wood, One of the most expensive wi used regularly in an uublllhedoo:’.n. In the Uniteq States is box. wood, the favorite material for wooq It has been qQuoted at foup The fact | - & cents a cubic inch, and abo by the thousang boa s ——— rd feet Credit te Labor, i -2 :l“::b owing : .l:‘m.'"': AM".' vy Benefits Walle, S s s ey o LTS 5 e er than injures stone or brick €rOWs by drawing * trom them. WHO “FT¢ THE MOMEY YOU EARN? DO YOU GErpy DOES:SOM =7 0)Y ELSE WHO DOES NOT EARN 177 " YOUR “ERRNING POWER” CANNOT LASTIALWAYs. WHILE YOURRE MAKING MONEY BANK IT ANDZBE py FOR OLD AGE. I JUST DO ALITTLE THINKING, WE PRY 5 FERCCENT INTEREST ON American State Banj “BE AN AMERICAN ONE & Now is the Tim In a Supply Fg Stlf-Rising Fiour We Know Not What’s A Load of Good Sound behind you, when perched on your wagon, homeward bound, after havine been Loaded in our Yards WE SELL THE BEST e B Lakeland Manufacturing Company LAKELAND, FLA. PHONE 76 o 2t A2y man who is persons Dty Sfest would be haf 7 that he be commenced. 1hope —to ask th Flour! CHEAP Sacks Best Plain Flour Sacks Best Plain Flour 12 Ib. Sacks Best Plain Flour L. 6. IWEEDELL But you'll know that you have re He Drew the LM the trial of someé Charles Lamb remar™ TIME DEPOSIYs, OF us.” LR 44, e to Lay $3.8 1.0 5l 400 Before Us Lumber “should Ifke to kao¥ em to dinper.” “T%® Porsuses MY power B0t sit with them?” asked M—Ah‘md trust to God for the Solemnly. “Yes, I would st Forragut, thing dut a hen or s talior.”