Lakeland Evening Telegram Newspaper, April 22, 1915, Page 6

By WALTER JOSEPH DELANEY. (Copyright, 1915, by W. G. Chapman.) “Extravagance!” groaned Caled Stone, “and that means ruin. I'm go- ing to get out before the crash comes.” “Old and old-fashioned,” descritied the speaker with his neighbor, but a hard sensible head was his. When he oame to live with his brother Wil lam, he had bought him the little farm. It was understood that this was to entitle him to board and keep for the rest of his natural life. Old Caleb made a clean-cut sweep of all his earthly possessions except old Bill—old Bill, the family horse. The others were welcome to his use, but Caleb owned him, attended to him and cherished him as a faithful, valued link to the past. His niece, Millie, had come to full maidenhood with some grand ideas. This had troubled her uncle for some time. All but engaged to a great fa- vorite of Uncle Caleb, one Reuben Ashley, she got in with the fashion- able set in the village, where she did not belong, for they all had to work at the farm and William Stone had little money to spare on luxury and fine feathers. However, Nellie coaxed and wheedled him into lTpplyhu the money for some stylisk' clothes, and, poor, foolish child! flattered and in a new whirl of excitement, began to fook down on her more humble friends, including plodding faithful Reuben. Then came the climax. One day a spry spruce chauffeur whirled up to the farmhouse in a stylish touring car. He held . long confab with Wil- liam and his daughter and was fully an hour showing them the mechanical details of the machine. Old Caleb, seated in his favorite arm chair on the porch, marveled when he saw the chauffeur go away Caleb Traveled All That Night. approached the auto, which had been driven into the yard. “I say, Millie,” he observed, “what is your father keeping out of my way for?” “Oh, he's planning to see where we will build the garage,” esplained the young lady pertly. “The garage! Surely, he hasn't been foolish enough to buy that ex- pensive toy?” “Yes, he has,” pouted Millie. “All the best families in town ha: car. You aren’t living these times unless you follow the procession.” “You'll follow it to a great deep ruination rut!” groaned Caleb and turned sadly away. He did not upbraid William, but Caleb felt sad when he learned that a mortgage had been put on the farm to pay half down on the new machine. Millie cut a great figure with her new acquisition. Willlam worked harder. his wife begam to scrimp the table Millie boasted of her rich and fash- fonable friends. Poor Reuben ceased coming to the house and was silently heartbroken. Then one day Caleb noticed that the old heavy gold watch that his brother wore, a family heirloom, was missing. The annual taxes went unpaid. Millle intimated that they ought to sell old Bill. Then Caleb rebelled. ' “I'm going to dig out,” he deter- mined, and straightway Caleb pro- eeeded to place his plans in execu- tion. “I'm going to run away from home,” he resolved. “It's got to come.” So, one stil moonlight night after the household had gone to rest Caleb stole out of the house, a bundle of clothes under his arm. He had got the light wagon out of the stable and be- hind the barn with straw and blankets in its box, and old Bill neighed and rubbed his friendly nose against him, and seemed to understand that a change was on the books, and was glad of it. “Good-by!” murmured Caleb softly, as he drove out into the road. “I don’t know exactly where I'm headed for, but I'm not too old to work, nor too blind to grab an opportunity if it comes along.” Caleb traveled all that night. At daybreak he drove into a stretch of timber, turned Bill loose, gave him some oats and proceeded to search in “Landlady.” The distinction which the posses- slon of land used to give is still exem- plified in the titles of “landlord” and “landiady.” Persons are amused at the colored washwoman, for instance, whio insists on the term “lady.” But Jet the same woman run a rooming bouse, of whatever description, and she is not & “landwoman,” but & “land- lady.” leaving the car behind him. Caleb fancied he detected a certain unusual sneakiness in the manner of his broth- er, who got out of the way as eb voice, and up rose a boy in the hay. “Well! What in the world are you doing there?” challenged Caleb. The boy was reticent. All he would say was that he was tramping it and had crawled into the wagon the previ- | ous evening and was hungry, and so | Caleb fed him. Then in the kindness of | his heart he “adopted” him—for the lad stayed with him. Now there came dark days on the { fanily at home. Mrs. Stone got sick from worry. Her husband was fairly discouraged. Some of Millie’s fair weather friends sunubbed her. An at- One day col- tractive lover neglected her. the automobile was wrecked in a lision. The company who had sold it to Willlam took it back because of nonpayment of instaliments. A that was in her. She nursed her mother, she helped her father, she went back to Reuben, and' so, at the end of a year, with harmony and economy restored, poor old William saw bright skies and possible clear sailing ahead. ! One day a big circus came to town. There was a procession. Catching sight of a gilded chariot in which sat a white-whispered clown and an un- dersized harlequin, Millie uttered a lit- ' tle scream and clutched Reuben’s arm hysterically. ; “Oh,” she cried, “there is old Bill!" Old Bill it was, gayly caparisoned. ‘Uncle Caleb it was, an august sort of Santa Claus clown, and his agile harle- quin companion was the boy tramp. Uncaparisoned, and man and boy in civilized costume, old Bill sniffed the air of the old home stable deltghtedly as he arrived at the farm that eve- ning. “Cured, eh?” smiled Uncle Caleb, as he kissed Millie, pretty and sensible- . looking in her neat dimity gown. “And Reuben back? coming!” Then he told his wandering brother of “a job with the circus and good pay.” He had earned enough to ‘clear off the balance of the mortgage. “And there’ll be a wedding!"” chuckled old Caleb, tremendously glad to rest once more under the home roof. i There was an afterglow, rare and radiant, to the supreme satisfaction of Caleb Stone. The boy, Wilfred, whom ' he had taught to work, had come to delight in the company of the quaint old man. i One day he wrote a letter. A week later a well-dressed man appeared— his father. The lad had run away from home. But for good honest old Caleb he might have drifted into bad com- pany. { His wealthy father left such a big money reward for Caleb that it fairly dazzled him. Every year Wilfred makes a long visit to the farm. Every hour of her life Millie Ashley is thankful for the experience that made of her a true, sensible woman. Say, this is some home Loafing in City and Country, Loafing in New York is the most fascinating business in the world. Why, it seems as if you New York men actually struggle to get spare time. I've sat in your office and watched you on Saturday morning working yourself into a blue haze in your efforts to get done early enough to cord up a fine big mess of leisure on Saturday afternoon. That's the difference between New York and ' Homeburg. In Homeburg you would have been stretching out your job to last until supper time— unless you ‘were One of our 19 golfers, or,the roads were good enough to let you drive over to the baseball game at Paynesville, Leisure in New York means pleas- ure, excitement and seven dozen kinds of interest. But for many and many a long year in hundreds of Home- burg homes leisure has meant waiting for mealtime—and not much of any- thing else. i City people laugh at country people for beating the chickens to roost. But what are you going to do when going to bed is the most fascinating diver- sion available after supper?—George Fitch in the American Magasine. Frankly Answered. } The teacher in a public school was instructing a youthful class in physi- ology, and when the interval of ques- tioning came she turned to a bright- faced girl at the head of the class. “Now, then, Mildred,” said she, “can you tell me what cuticle is?” Mildred couldn’t. First she stood on one foot, then on the other, inter spersing the act with many facial con- tortions, but the answer was not forth- coming. “Let me put it to you another way, Mildred,” continued the teacher, en- couragingly. “What are my faee and hands covered with?” “Oh, I know, Miss Mary,” exclaimed Mildred, ‘with a brightening expres- sion, “Freckles!" Interesting Diary. “Troublea,that Never Happened” is the title of one of the most interesting little manuwscript diaries imaginable. It was kept for one year by a woman who discovered that she was rapidly becoming a chromic worrier. In ft was promptly listed each expected trial—everything she was ‘“afraid” would happen. In course of time she duly chronmicled the outcome, and it made inspiring reading, for the most part. As she sald, the few that did bappen “proved the rule.” Phoebe’s Only Chance. Cats at a cat show are not scored on their rat catching records; there- fore it would be of no use to enter Phoebe. She’ll have to be shown in a steel and wire trap exhibition.— Toledo Daily Blade. (Copyright, 1011, by Associated Literary Press) “I felt that it was my duty—that I owed it to Lester as his only female “Of course I didn't know there was anything up, Aunt Philly. He asked me down for a week, and. I came. She's a mighty charming girl, that's all I can say.” “A dangerous charm,” supple- mented Miss Drake. “When I heard she was French, I said to myself Lester must be saved. It was t my wishes in the first place that he ever engaged a French gov- for Mildred. I was willing to er and do my duty by her until as of age, and could be a help mfort to her father, but I Lester was old enough and ldly enough not to be caught by a girl like that.” Tom's eyebrows lifted. He grinned at his aunt mischievously. “Have you seen Mlle. Clare yet, auntie?” “I have not.” “Then reserve judgment. Take it right straight from your little nevvy, Tom, she’s an excuse for any form of madness.” “She doesn not even kmow that I have arrived,” Miss Drake added, firmly. “Nor does Lester. 1 saw him In Washington Tuesday. He seems {IL. I know Lester pretty well, and his symptoms, and he was not at all free with me when I spoke to him about it. Then I asked about this French governess.” She wheeled ' about suddenly in her chair. “Do you |Miss Drake devoutly. know that she went down to Mexico with him at Christmas time?” “Not with him. He sent for her to bring Mildred down, because he |could not go home for Christmas, and perhupl he wanted the child with him.” “Pish, tush.” Miss Drake’s nose rose half an inch in the air. “She was scheming for Lester and Lester's half million. When I think that poor Lilllan hasn't been dead four years and what a suffering child she was, Why shoule he not,madam?™ B it makes my heart aclie to think of her place being filled by & French girl” “Her place could not be filled,” re- plied Tom pleasantly. “Lester loved Lil, and was a good husband to her. But, hang it all, auntie, it's doggone lonely for a man stumping around the country alone, and Mildred adores mam’zelle.” “What's her name, did you say?” “Esme Clare. She's an orphan, and was educated in a convent. Don't be too hard on her, Aunt Philly, She's been nursing Mildred through meas- les, and has been a perfect brick to her.” He stopped. The front door opened lightly. There was a sound of quick, soft footsteps in the hall. A voice called: “Gyp, come to me!” But Gyp did not come. Miss Drake's lips set in a firm uncompromising line as the frolicsome little Pomeranian ran into the room and leaped at Tom's out- stretched hand. Then she turned her head and got a good full look at the French girl. Slender, dark, she looked indescrib- ably attractive in her short, black velvet walking costume, trimmed in dark fur. The fur toque set lightly on onler brown hair, her cheeks were flushed from her walk in the bracing winter air, her lips were parted ex- pectantly, and her dark eyes glanced half wisttully from one face to the other. Surely she did mot look I a farsighted adventuress, and yet Miss Drake’s lips did not relax. Tom performed the introduction somewhat awkwardly. She saw at once by the absorbed look on his face that even buoyant Tom had fallen s victim to Mademoiselle. It half pliased her. Tom was not worth fighting over. He was merely Tom, no more, no less, in the family esti- mation. “I was anxious about Mildred's state of health, and came on to look after her,” she explained. Esme's expressive face brightened instantly at the mention of her charge. “Ab, but she is better, oh, much better, madame, now. tient, 0 sweet. If you would care to see her at onmce, it could be ar Varied Menu. The chorus girl dines one day em & orust and the next on a crustacean~— New York Eveniug Mail. Unbusinesstike Transactien. Miss Clare's eyes showed tender, courteous concern for the departed one. She was all attention, all con- sideration for the old lady who eyed her with such frank disfavor. “When I saw Mildred's father Tues- : day—" “He is here now,” interrupted Esme, happily, eagerly. “He has but Just arrived. It was for that I was absent. I had gone to the depot to meet him with the car.” “He is here?” Miss Drake rose, troubled and ruffied. “Tom, I must bave a few moments’ conversation alone with Miss Clare. You go and keep Lester busy till I call you. Tow shrugged doubtful shoulders, but obeyed, with a look of what he would have called “bolstered up courage,” at the demure, low voiced girl waiting for the storm to break on her pretty head. It broke as soon as the door closed after the tall, un- galnly Tom. Miss Drake's voice fairly trembled with passion as she made her final appeal. “I have no doubt it is only infatua- tion,” she said. “Men are like that when they have a pretty girl around them. ButIhad no idea Lester would think seriously of marriage—" “Why should he not, madam?” asked Esme gently. “Well, to speak plainly, it don't seem fitting for him to marry, well, you, don’t you understand, child?”’ In spite of herself her tone did soften. Esme looked very young, very much alone as she stood there listening. Miss Drake remembered Tom had sald she was an orphan. “I understand?” softly, her eyes ashine with emo- tion. “He is wonderful, is he mnot? Why should he even desire to marry just merely—me?” “The Lord only knows!" answered “The main point 18 he does want to, and he mustn't be let. That is the real reason why I came from Washington. If he won't see sense, then I thought ; Now thgre‘g; p ou would, Tom, a nice, good-looking boy. He'd make a good husband for you, and I don’t mind saying I'd be willing to , settle a little on you both if you mar- | ried each other.” f I married—" 'om, 1 say. If you'd promise to marry him, YVll settle a couple of thousand a year on you both.” And suddenly Esme's mirth broke, and she leaned back her charming | head and laughed. But she checked herself as the door opened and Les- ter himself entered, Tom behind him. “Well, Aunt Philippa, did you run down to congratulate us?’ he ex- claimed heartily, catching the thin old figure in his arms and kissing the faded bony cheek. ‘“Congratulate who?" Drake grimly. Lester turned quickly and drew Esme into the family circle. 'My bride,” he sald proudly. “We were married. the day after I saw you in Washington. There was a short, sharp internal struggle in Miss Drake's mind. She looked at Tom, knowing him to be gullty of foreknowledge of the fact. She looked at Leste appy, tender face, and last of all at Esme herself. Esme whose eyes met hers with a sort of passionate entreaty for for- giveness. “Ah, madam, what could I do?”’ she implored. “He wanted me so very much for his wife. And the ice melted in Aunt Philly's heart. She sighed and smiled. “Well, child, can you blame him?" she asked. e done my level best to save him, but as long as he's been and gone and married you, any- how, well—you may call me Aunt Philly.” { asked Miss Crippled Girl's Pension Was Reduced by S8ome Pusillanimous Official, Says Socialist Paper. A soclalist paper is responsible for & story which, even if not absolutely true in all its details, brings out the unsympathetic character of Prussian bureaucracy, a European correspon- dent of the New York Sun writes. A country girl while occupied with a thrashing machine got caught in the machinery and as a result bad to have both her legs amputated. She drew thereafter from the state insurance fund ‘a monthly pension of $3.50 and continued drawing it until one fine day she got an intimation from the of- ficlals that the pension was reduced The girl protested and in the usual leisurely course of official time received a reply. The authorities, it said, had care fully considered the case, but were unable to come to a decision in her favor. She was reminded that mow that she had no legs she was saved the expense of shoes and stockings, and that, moreover, she had never been charged for the wooden legs she bad been supplied with after the am- putation of the natural limbs. It was fimlly indicated that she should re- member the cost the authorities were put to in supplying the spirit in which the amputated legs were preserved! Where Explorers May Reap Glory. ‘There is some work lm.::r u:’ ex- plorer to do, even though the sources the Nile have been discovered and north pole secret is out. A writer the National Geographical Mag- says of Western China: “It {s conviction that when this incognita is properly surveyed, will be found there rivaling en Mt. Everest itself.” Goat ls Regimental Pet breathed Esme | LITTLE FIRST FOOT By MOLLY M'MASTER. P B Newspa- ! (Copyright, ;?::e:’.s;’:\;l ic;fi_l;m Newspa | Upon the first morning of the Ne'; | Year Dean Richmond had awakened | to find a small black kitten prowling i inquisitively about her lllldi? home. “Good luck!" was Dean’s first thought. They were friends at once. Dean lived alone in the Bohemian section of the city. She was an editor on one of the better magasines, and left her studio each morning sharp at 8:30 o'clock. The kitten, which Dean called First Foot, was sleek and a daintily clean little lady kitten. It would not have been dificult for her to find lodgings in the Bohemian section where black cats were considered the best of luck. The little collar with which Dean immediately made her ownership cer- tain was black leather. The name in- seribed on the tiny silver tag was “First Foot” since she had been the first little visitor to put foot over Dean's threshold in the new year. First Foot had been a part of the studio life for some five weeks be- fore she brought down the wrath of her mistress upon her own sleek head. Upon picking up the kitten for her evening nap in Dean’s lap the girl had smelled tobacco. Upon examination i she made the discovery that her pet ! was reeking of the noxious fumes. “You disgraceful little lady,” ad- monished Dean while she went to the kitchen for brush and soap and toilet water. “You have been visiting the den of some gentleman.” That proved to be only the first of | the visits, for each night Dean found | her erstwhile perfumed pet reeking of tobacco smoke. There was no good in scolding. Dean finally accepted the | tobacco as a part of her troubles. She did, however, tie a huge pink bow on the neck of her cat and saturated it | with Wild Rose scent. “The guilty man may take a hint,” was her inward hope. But the guilty man did not take the hint. Each day when the small black | cat came silently into his den he arose, stroked her head and felt that the day was well begun, When John Rogers finished a par- ticularly good story and determined to try it on the editor of the “Good- year Magazine,” he dipped First Foot's paw into the inkstand and made her imprint on his manuscript. | So that when the story passed through | the hands of the readers and found | its way to the editor of the “Good- vear,” Dean Richmond found herself smiling at the imprint of a cat's paw on the manuscript awaiting her judg- ment. In the evening she found herself examining First Foot's paw. Her amazement was very genuine when she discovered that her pet's foot was sticky and that close scrutiny revealed dried ink on the little toes. “So,” mused Dean, “the person who blows tobacco smoke all over my lovely kitten and the author of ‘Stag- nation’ are one and the same being." She fell to speculating as to the man's personality. “He assuredly is human and I would say—rather charming.” When John Rogers received the lit- ‘tle black visitor that morning he glanced amusedly at the extra large | pink ribbon on her neck. “You have an extravagant mistress, little lucky lady,” he sald. “She would never do for the wife of a struggling author” If the cat disagreed she could not say so. Rogers petted First Foot and dislodged the note Dean Richmond had concealed in the bow. “The plot thickens,” laughed he, and opened the letter. “The editor of ‘Goodyear' will see you tomorrow at ten o'clock,” he read aloud. “I'm hanged! How in thunder—!" Rogers ran his fingers through his hair and gazed questioningly at First Foot, who only went to sleep, having de- livered her message. It was the perfume that reached Rogers’ senses while they were dis- cussing the merits of his story and the size of the check he was to get. “You,” he said suddenly, and it seemed accusingly, “are the mistress of First Foot.” “I am,” laughed Dean, “but how do you know?" “The kitten reeks of that same scent,” he told her. “It 18 far better than reeki; bacco,” flashed Dean. o Rogers flushed guiltily. M is rather strong.” Then, “Ynu’ 1:::: live near, very near to me,” he added quickly, and there was a shameless suggestion of joy in his eyes “Yes—it is strange, fsn't it “Delighttully strange,” agreed Rog- ers. “I wish First Foot knew the ex- tent of the luck she had brought me. 1 sell a story for $250 and realize that 1 h:ve 2 neighbor whom 1—* “I am very busy.” Dean said swift. ly, trying to overcome the tlmld‘l?v that had swept her lashes down. i Rogers only laughed and watched the color sweeping stealthily into the ch.eeh of the editor of “Goodyear.” “First Foot is a lucky cat” he ru- minated on the way home, “ang 1 once Informed her that her mistress would not make a good wite for a struggling author. e —— i tvhlm Cultivating. ® of the most charming things 1 sirlhood is serenity.—; = Sangster. Margaret B e —————— Expensive Woed, One of the most expensive woods wood, the favorite material for wood carving. It has been quoted at four cents a cubic inch, anq about $1,309 by the thousang board feet WHO GETS THE MONEY YOU EARN? DO YOU GET [y o DOES:SOMEBODY ELSE WHO DOES NOT EARN IT? YOUR “EARNING POWER"” CANNOT LASTIALWAYS, WHILE YOUARE MAKING MONEY BANK IT AND:BE f) FOR OLD AGE. JUST DO A LITTLE THINKING. RANK wun !&. WE PAY 5 FERZCENT INTEREST ON TIME DEPOSITs, American State Bank “BE AN AMERICAN ONE OF us.” El SEEOLEE LS BOFIIFPEPPPIIIT PHEES S PP ER TR RRR AR ARSI L S S22 4224444000000 0044, 2 iFlour! Flour! CHEAP & Now is the Time to Lay In a Supply F 98 Ib. Sacks Best Plain Flour - $3.8) 24 Ib. Sacks Best Plain Flour - 1.0 12 Ib. Sacks Best Plsin Flour - 5k 98 Ib. Srlf-Rising Flour 40 L. 6. TWLLDLLL “It’s a Wise Head that Builds a Shed” “ Some one, also wise, has said,— To protect your tools from dew and dust, And the ravages of rain and rust” Plenty of Shed Room On a Farm Is pretty good evidence of economical and successful management. — i anoe Lakeland Manufacturing Company LAKELAND, FLA. L PHONEg il