Lakeland Evening Telegram Newspaper, April 29, 1915, Page 7

Chiropractor pR. J Q. BCARBOROUGH, Lady in Attendance pyches Building Between Park Auditoriom. OFFICE HOURS. 11:30 &.m. 1:30 to § p. m. 7:00 to 8:00 p. m. uitation and Examination Residence Phone 240 Black W. L. HEATH, D. . HUGH D. VIA. D. C. octors of Chiropratic. Over Post Hours 8 to 12. a. m. snd 3. and 7 to 8 p. m. aduateg snd Ex-Faculty mem- of the Palmer School of pratic. Consultation and | analysis free at office. D. & H. D. MENDENHALL CONSULTING ENGINEERS aite 213-216 Drane Building Lakelan®, Fla. ; phate Land Exsminstions and t Demigns Karthwork Specialists, eys. gence phonme, 278 Black. e phone, 278 Blue. DR. SARAH B, WHEELER OSTEOPATH ;0 Abnex, “Door South of Firs National Bank Lakeland, Florida DR. W. B. GROOVER PHYSICIAN’ AND SURGEON ous 6 and 4. Kentucky Bulldins Lakeland, Florida DR. W. B. MOON PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON Telephone 350 ars 9 to 11, 2 to 4, evenings 7 to 8 Over Postoffice Lakeland, Florida Edwin Spencer, Je. 0. Rogers R0GERS & SPENCER ‘Attorneys st Law, - Bryant Building Lakeland, pEmaMY Al‘l“c'?mfl“l\ Sales Manager TIONAL REALTY AUCTION CO. Auction Lot dales a Specialty Raymondd Bidg. Lakeland, Fla EPPES TUCKER, JRB. LAWYER ymondo Bldg,, Lakeland, Florida KELSEY ATTORNEY AT Office in Munn Buildl Rooms 3-8, Skipper Bullding ramination of [Tites and Rem & tate Law & Specialty H. THOMPSON NOTARY PUBLIC Dickson Building Ofice phone 403. Res. 313 Red pecial sttention to drafting legs! papers. Marriage licenses and abstracts taralshed W. HERMAN WATSON, M. D. clephoness Ofice 361; :‘:"m Red Lakeland, Floride mngmuumn “I will not,” said the girl. The young man eyed her in con- sternation. “My word,” he sald, “there { will be a row! I wouldn't be in your + shoes for something.” ‘ “My shoes?” she repeated blankly. IW do you mean?” “Why, your mother. I expect she'll have quite a lot to say about this. She told me you'd simply jump at me—at least. I don't mean that ex- actly, but she seemed pretty keen on the idea.” “I don’t care—she can say what she likes. I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man-on earth” She eyed him scornfully. “There’s noth- ing to snigger at in that silly way—I ‘wouldn't.” “It was the idea of my Deing the only remnant at the bargain counter made me laugh,” he explained apolog- etically, “not what you said. What's the objection to marrying me?” “Because I.despise you.” *“T say, ‘despise’ is a bit thick, you know. Hang it all, I've never done anything to have '(fesp ed’ saved up d you can’t say I have.” the very reson I do despise you. Because you never have done anything.” “Do you mean because we lost the tennis tournament yesterday? It was you let us down.” “Of course, put it down to your partner. Besides, I don't mean the tournament. You're keen enough on games and silly things like that. T mean in real things.” “What d'you call real? Being a World's Worker, Empire Building, and that sort of rot?” “Look at Mr. Powell, for examp'e. He doesn’t idle his life away. He's doing something.” “He'll be catching something, too, if he's not jolly careful—there are some pretty infectious things down those slums. RBesides, what good does he do? ‘The poor 've got quite enough to worry ‘'em without his fooling about. Fe's a bore and a prig.” “I don't say he's not; but he’s re- She Was Engaged Picking Flowers. spected, anyhow, which is more than you are.” “How do you mean I'm not respect- ed? I'm a pretty popular chap, it you ask me!" “You know enough people—smack- backers, that's all they are—but they don't respect you. Why, everybody calls you ‘Tommie.’ ™ “Whose fault's that? 1 didn’t give myself that name.” “No; but if you were & different sort of manm, they wouldn't smack your back, and they wouldn’t call you It's so horribly Infantile” D'yo ‘mean I ought to be called “Thomas? No, thank you.” “Everybody calls Mr. Powell Mis- rather—a solema rotter like “It shows they respect him, anyhow. He takes himself seriously, and o does everybody lse. You—why, you're simply flabby! &Be quilet, Tom- mie; I don’t want to feel your stupld muscles. Don't be so vulgar. I ke a man to be manly.” “Once aboard the lugger business, d'you mean? Well, I can be master- ful enough 1f th any occasion.” “You! With a chin like that! It's like a girl's—and you've & dimple in it, too.” The young man sighed despairingly. “I can’t help having a dimple. Be- sides, even if I were a beetle-browed scowler, you'd want something ant- ferent.” “No, I shouldn’t. I've made up my mind. The man I shall marry will be capable of picking me up in his arms and running away with me.” “H'm,” sald the young man, eyeing her consideringly, “it'd want a bit of doing. Still, T don’t mind having & shot at it if you're keen. How far bave I got to run?® “Jdiot!” cried the girl, retreating before his outstretched arms. ‘TN box your ears if you dare.” grumbled. i ‘ou dont kmow what How &'you expect me with you if you won't fair hold?” “What would you do if your ears?” she demanded. * “How 4’ you mean—if I'd picked you up? Put you down again, course. Your hand mayn't be very big, but it's good and flat.” The girl looked disappointed. “You —you wouldn't even have shaken me?” ‘By FRANK FILSON. (Copyright, 1915, by W. G. Chapman.) l “If we can hold out another twelve- month, we win, Miss Marston,” said John Clay, turning to his stenogra- pher. “You see, reports from all our gty no; I've not shaken any | traveling men tell us that the su- ’"u igger than a bvmo' of sauce | periority of the Clay filament has been mr!url. Mean to say you'd like me ;| thoroughly demonstrated. The ques- (I tion is, can we manipulate our cap- 'l,.d never speak to you again if you ital to keep on manufacturing, with did,” she declared vehemently. She Rea & Co. threatening to sue for hesitated. “Only I should love a man | their bill, and the other creditors who could treat me like that. Not would—could. I'd hate him if he ever veally did.” “T've really got it,” cried the young man triumphantly. “I know what's the matter with you.' “What?” she demanded, flushing. “Imaginafive dyspepsia; and it's a Jolly serious thing, let me tell you. You've caught it from one ofs those library books.” “You're not such a fool as you look, Tommie,” sald the girl thoughttully, after a slight pause. “Course I'm not,” he said pleasant- ly, “there’s bound to be a limit.” “And you think you know a lot.” “Not a lot,” he corrected modestly—, “a bit." “But there's one thing you'll never, never know.” “What's one among so many? What is 1t?” “You'll never know enough to make me marry you.” The reinainder of ;hlt ‘dl! the young man spent in deep thought. It was not very deep, but still it was | deep for practically virgin soil. Passing a sleepless night, he arose the mext morning at an hour that caused him to shake his watch sev- eral times before he could credit it. Strolling into the grounds, he sought out the head gardener. “Morning, Richards,” he said brisk- ly. “Whereabouts does the sun rise, as a rule?” Richards, a taciturn man, returned his greeting with a touch of the cap. “If so be as you're looking for the young ledy . . .” “Young lady! Where?” “Miss Templeman, I think, sir. She's gone toward the river.” Reaching the bank he was just in time to see the girl, in a punt, disap- pearing around a bend in the river. To unchain the nearest punt and set out in pursuit was the work of an im- pulsive moment. As he drifted slowly round the curve, he was startled to find the girl had disappeared, punt and all. For one horrified moment he thought taat opportunity had forgot- ten to give him a call in time—then he observed the punt drawn up against a small island. The girl, hav- ing landed, was busily engaged pluck- ing wild flowers. “Now’'s my chance,” he murmured thoughtfully. “If I only jolly well knew what it was.” An idea came to him. “By Jove!" he chuckled admir- ingly, “smart—oh, jolly smart.” Paddling softly, he drew alongside the empty punt and carefully removed the pole and paddle. “Morning!” he called out, this ac- complished. The girl turned round in astonish- ment. “Hullo!” she cried, “you still up?” | “Still up,” he echoed, hurt at the implication. “Hang it, I've just got up. Matter of fact,” he went on, with friendly frankness, “I couldn’t sleep. 1 was trying to make up my mind whether it was better to marry a girl like you, or a girl who likes you. What's your opinion?" “If T were you,” stated the girl, ‘T should think myself lucky to get mar- ried at all—without belng married for your money, I mean, of course.” “0,” urged the young man, after & moment’s consideration—"0, I don't think you'd marry me for my money.” “Me? I wouldn’t marry you for & million pounds. T told you yesterday 1 wouldn’t marry you.” “Of course you did. But then, you see, that was yesterday, and we were in the billiard room. Now it's today, and you're in a punt, and”"—he leaned back in his seat and regarded her with a pleasant smile—"and I've got your pole and paddle.” The girl gave a startled cry as she confirmed this statement. Then with & hasty movement she stepped into the boat. “You horrible coward!” she cried. “ suppose you were going to leave ‘me on the island.” Without replying the young man worked his pole until the two punts were end to end, and then skilfully punted himself and the girl out into midstream. “Yes,” he admitted, when he had accomplished this feat, “that was the weak point of the scheme. If I'd left you on the island you could have hailed passers-by.” “You see,” sald the girl scornfully, “you admit yourselt your idea was no “Yes. But now, you see, you being in the boat, I can shove you round to the back of the island. Nobody goes there once In a blue moon.” With her chin in her hands the girl stared fixedly at the water. “And you really are going to behave as you say? “Yes. You seq” he pointed out spologetically, “you sald you'd only | marry a masterful man. I'm awful sorry; but I mean it.” The girl was silent for nearly & mis- ute. “All right” she said at last, sitting up briskly; “dut mind you, T shall call you Thomas when we're married.” pressing us?” Miss Marston was silent. There was , a flush on her face as she bent over | her notebook. She had come to John Clay ten moiths before, with the highest rec- | ommendations. Tactful, quick, well} a5 meant to me?” educated, and with a personality that commanded recognition, she had made herself indispensable to her em- ployer. The Clay company and Philip Mac- Intyre & Co. were rivals in the manu- facture of the new filament, an im- Jprovement upon a patent recently taken out by a bankrupt concern. Ow- ing to technicalities the improvement ¢ould not be patented. Clay and Mac- Intyre had each put a product upon | the market, and it was a fight to the death between them. John Clay knew that his invention | was superior to his rivals’. But they | had money, and he was at his wits’ ends for it. If he could hold out he would win. But his creditors were pushing him hard. At the worst he would have to sell out to MacIntyre, accept the few thou- sands that they would offer him, and go into retirement. The thought of defeat was bitter to him. He was straining every nerve. And, what harassed him in addition to his busi- ness troubles was the knowledge that MacIntyre was dogging him with spies. Only the week before he had to dismiss his trusted foreman just when the man was upon the point of discovering the secret process. Clay “ Don't Know What | Should Do Without You, Miss Marston.” bad to guard each part of the manu- facture with scrupulous care. The final proceas, the carbonizing, was in the hands of three men, who received | large wages and could be trusted. But the sense of constant esplonage was the hardest thing that Clay had to face. “1 don't know what I should do with- out you, Miss Marston,” he said to the girl. “You have helped me wonder- tully. And it means a great deal to me to feel that it 1 were incapaci- tated 1 could leave affairs in your hands.” John Clay was a young man. He was barely thirty, and he knew that upon this venture bung all the future. He saw himself & rich man if he could weather the storms of the com- ing year. The trouble was that Mac- Intyre was not without imfluence in the banking world, and more than once he suspected the man's hand in preventing a loan just when negotia- tions appeared upon the point of suc- cess. For three or four months longer this state of affairs continued. Sometimes a way out of the increasing difficul- ties appeared; then the gap closed. Clay and Miss Marston became more intimate. She had introduced him to her mother, with whom she lived, in a modest apartment uptown. Clay learned that the girl’s father had been a wealthy man, but had died in pov- erty after a bankruptey. He wondered how she could obtain the means to support her mother on the limited sal- ary that he could afford to pay. He began to feel, too, that once the storm was weathered, he would be jus- tified in asking her to become his wife. The intimacy between them was the stronger because no word of love had ever been spoken. Six months after Clay's twelve month had begun the end was in sight. “It's all up with us, Miss Marston,” said John. “We've done our best, but Rea & Co. are going to sue us. Now | we'll have to get out as best we can. Will you please take a letter from * dictation?" And he dictated a letter which went sorely against the graln. He offered Macintyre the secret and the entire Iflnt to manufacture the product of —————— ““See that it goes off by tonight’s mail, Miss Marston, please,” he said. He watched the girl stamp and seal the missive and place it in her bas- ket. And the knowledge that all was over inspired him with relief that was stronger than his sorrow. “Miss Marston, what would you say to a little jaunt in an auto to- morrow?” he asked. “We might cele- brate the end of my fortunes by tak- ing a run out to Newbury and lunch- ing there.” “Very well,” said Miss Marston, raising her head and looking him in the face. Clay was amazed to see tears in her eyes. Did she care so much, then? It was a very quiet drive the follow- ing morning, through hedgerows gay with spring flowers. They found a little, old-fashioned inn, where they ate lunch, and afterward they sat un- der the shade of a big tree upon a lit- tle rustic seat. “Miss Marston, you know what this | She nodded without answering him. “I want to tell you,” he continued, taking her hand, “that I have felt for a long time that I wanted you for my wife. It was my intention to ask you after the year. But now, as a failure, I do mot know that I am jus- tified in asking you; for that ten thousand and what I have left will only cover my indebtedness. I am a beggar.” uddenly he perceived that the girl was shaking with sobs. He drew her into his arms and let her rest her face against his shoulder. “Will you wait for me till I have done something, till 1 am justified in asking you, dear?” he asked. She sprang out of his arms and faced him. “Listen, John,” she began. “I am wholly unworthy of you. If you only knew what I have tried to gather courage to tell you for so long. I came to you with forged recom- mendations. I was hired by Mac- Intyre to find out your secret. I did it because I wanted my mother to have the comforts to which she had been accustomed in her old age.” There was a long pause. “But you didn’t betray the secret,” said John quietly. “No! A thousand times no. I told MacIntyre that I would repay him the five hundred dollars he had ad- vanced me. I couldn't betray you aft- er I had realized what a dreadful scheme I had undertaken. But mow I can make amends by telling you this. Maclntyre is at his wits’ end. He has been living on his capital, too. He has spent everything he has, and it you hold out one month longer he will be at your mercy. And so I— 1 didn't post that letter, because I meant to tell you today. Now let me go!"” But John Clay held her tightly and raised her head and looked into her eyes “Hilda,” he said, “I have the more faith in you because you tried to do what was foreign to your nature, and falled. You spoke just now of mak- ing amends. But you haven't made them. You can only make them in one way. I want you to do it in that way. Will you, dear?” She nodded mutely, and he kissed away her tears. FIRST THOUGHT OF PERISCOPE Thomas Doughty of United States Navy Made Use of It on Red River Expedition. It 18 stated by some writers that the periscope, the eye of the subma- rine was invented by the French. The first device of this kind to be used in naval warfare was invented Ry Thom- as Doughty in 1864. He was at that time acting chief engineer in the United States navy. During Banks' Red River expedition Doughty was on the turreted monitor Osage. The gunboats were annoyed by bushwhackers and Confederate cav- alry picking off their men. Doughty rigged up a sheet iron tube extending from a few feet above the deck to the engine room below, with openings near the top and bottom, and by arrangement of mirrors he ‘could see on shore. When attacked, he would signal the gunners to turn loose, and the enemy soon learned to give the Osage a wide derth. He little realized that his In- vention would be utilized in the world’s greatest war. On the Indianola Doughty ran the batteries at Vicksburg, and his vessel was sunk in the fight near Grand Gult and he was captured. After his ex- change he was assigned to the Osage, which was blockading the mouth of the Red river. While on this duty he took twenty men and captured two large Confed- erate transports, for which he was complimented by Admiral Porter. He distingulshed himself in the Red Riv- er expedition, and subsequently at Mobile. He died in St. Louis in 1896. —Seclentific American. Scorned His Pot Companions. ~ Colonel Culpepper of Virginia was a thoroughly democratic body when mel- low, but quite the reverse in his nat ural state. He was known to fore- gather with strangers and in their company pass a rousingly happy night with the flowing bowl. One morning after such a joyous occasion he was accosted by a young man, to whom he paid not the slightest attention. The other persisted, however, and sald, “Why, colonei, surely you recall that 1 was out with you all last night” “Well, what of 1t?" roared the colonel. At A Get Your Coupons in the Great Voting Contest at the Hub. This is the only Gents’ Furnishing Store in Town giv- ing Votes with Purchases of Goods Our Spring Line Is Coming in Daily See Qur Windows They reflect the Superb Stock with i which our Store is filled. The Hub THE HOME OF Hlart Schatfner and Marx Good Clothing JOS. LeVAY The Financial Crisis Over We are now in shape togive you the benctit of our Low Expenses. [Let us wire your House and save you money, Lower Insur- ance, Cleanliness and Convenience are the results. T. L. CARDWELL Phone 397 With Lakeland Sheet Metal Works | 1 s E LECTRIC IT WILL PAY YOU TO CONSULT US ON THE ' ELECTRIC WIRING IN YOUR HOUSE OR STORE' We Are Electrical Experts FLORIDA ELECTRICSMACHINERY Co TN LT T H ERG | s E LECTRIC THE ELECTRIC STORE Phone 46 Kibler Hotel Bldg. RS S W Wl WELECTRIC Must Little Homeless Children Suffer In Florida? WE DO NOT BELIEVE that the good people of Flor- ida realize that there are right now in our State Hundreds of litde children in real need—some absolutely homeless— that just must be cared for. We feel sure—that they do not know that there are hun- dreds of worthy mothers in Florida who are just struggling to keep their little ones alive—and at home. We just canmot believe—that with these facts tue—and every orphanage in Florida crowded to the doors—+that the people of Florida will let our great work which has cared for 850 of these little ones this year alone—go down for lack of funds to keep it up. Your immediate help—is greatly needed—right now—Please send what you can to-day—to R. V. Covington, Treasurer of The Children’s Home Society of Florida Florida’s Greatest Charity 361 St. James Bldg. JACKSONVILLE, FLA. ———————————————————————————————————————