Lakeland Evening Telegram Newspaper, May 1, 1915, Page 7

Professions iropractor SCARBOROUGH, in Attendance Building Between Park nm. CE HOURS. m. 1:30 to § p. m. D to 8:00 p. m. and Examination Free. e Phone 240 Black HEATH, D. C. H D. VIA. D. C. Chiropratic. Over lost 8 to 12. a. m. and 2. 8 p. m. and Ex-Faculty mem- e Palmer School of Consultation and is free at office. — D. MENDENHALL ,TING ENGINEERS 215 Drane Building nd, Fla. nd Examinations ané marthwork Speclaiists jone, 278 Black. 278 Blue. AH E, WHEELER STEOPATE Ix. Door South of First tional Bank nd, Florida . R. GROOVER AN AND SURGEON 4. Kentucky Bulldins nd, Florida W. B. MOON AN AND SURGEON lephone 850 1, 2 to 4, evenings 7 to 8 pver Postoffice eland, Florida w Office of 'X. ERICKSON nt Building X. ERICKSON WILLIAMS C. W. THOMSON Pepositions attended. Edwin Spencer, Jr. & SPENCE® meys at Law, pyant Buillding A H. HARNLY Live Stock aad General DCTIONEER s Manager 'REALTY AUCTION CO. ot sales a Speclalty o Bldg. Lakeland, Fla j8 TUCKER, JR. ‘ LAWYER dg., Lakeland, Florida EY BLANTON, RNEY AT LAW Munn Building nd Florida 'HARD LEFFERS N AND SURGEON 8, Skipper Building er Postoffice ........ ESTON, LAWYER East ‘fifi“" House o;r mu and Ress &v Law a Specialty H. THOMPSON 'ARY PUBLIC pkson Building pe 402, Res. 312 Red ption to drafting legsl papers. licenses and abstracts turnished AN WATSON, M. D. p-Groover Bldg. Office 361; Res. 113 Red g Florids PETERSON NEY AT LAW ekson Building L all courts. Homestead. cated and contested hed in July, 1900 W. 8. IRVIN DENTIST 16 Kentucky Building UIS A. FORT RCHITECT Lakeland, Florids . M. BRYAN Elliston Building 0. Box 605 elang, Florida GO K? TO d Sanitatiam na Hflfifllflflw‘. 7 23 0% Suddenly a strange thing happened. The vague spot formed by my win- dow was lighted by a blush, phos- phorescent light, which grew, and spread rapidly to the walls of my room. And in this blue light which filled the room there appeared, com- ing I know not from whence, a thick cloud, pale, smoky, strewn with sparks which reminded me of human eyes. They wavered strangely, as if moved by some mysterious influence. This cloud rose, melted, became more trans- parent, tore itself into pieces, froze me with fear and cold, seemed to me to be infinite, menacing; and from this vapor there came forth a sound like an angry murmuring. Then the ragged fragments fell apart, became distinct. Visible to my eyes in the blue radiance which suffused them, little, forms well known and familiar. From what place do these shadows come, and who are they? I asked my- | self, full of wonder and alarm. “Who are we, and whence come i we?” said a grave voice, a voice whose | sound was slow and cold. “Bethink yourself. Do you not recognize us?" I silently shook my head, denying all possible relation with these shad- ows. And they reeled, uncurbed, in i the air, as though they were dancing | some wild saraband in rhythm with i the storm outside. The sillouettes, scarcely perceptible, half transparent, crowded along, noiselessly, before me. Suddenly I distinguished Among them an old man, a blind old man, holding by the waist a woman, aged and bent, who looked at me with eyes full of reproach, Their rags were covered with snow-flakes of a dazzling bright- ness, and they spread a chill about them. I knew who they were; but why were they there?” “Now you recognize ns?" I knew not if it were the voice of the tempest which I had just heard or that of my own conscience; but that voice had an imperious tone which mastered me. “You have seen who we ar voice continued, “cnd the ot also the heroes of your tal dren, women, and men whom you have the “What Did They Want With Me?” made suffer for the pleasure of those who read you. Open your eyes, look, they are going to march in fromt of you, and you can judge how many and how pitiable are these products of your imagination.” Then the shadows passed along. The first were a young boy and a lit- tle girl, like two great snow-flowers, spreading round them a lunar light. “See here, at first,” sald the voice, “two children whom you made die under the window of a house in which a Curistmas tree was shining. You remember; they looked at it, trembl- ing with desire; and they stayed there, frozen and motionless!"” My little heroes passed silently be- fore me, and vanished in the blue ra- dlance. In their place an exhausted woman, with a pale face, showed her- self. “This one is the mother, anxiously expected, who, also upon Ckristmas eve, was hastening back from the vil- lage, a long way off, bringing some poor little gifts for her children, and who fainted upon the road.” I looked at the shadow with fear and pity. And the troop continued to pass. The inexorable voice enumerated the heroes of my sad works. And these hero-phantoms floated before me; their white garments waved; I shivered be- fore the cold which flowed from those mournful, silent shadows. Their slow movements, and the unspeakable an- guish of their vague looks, oppressed me. - What did they want with me? What was the meaning of this sight? The last one, the blind old man, with his rags stiff with sleet, came slowly in front of me, and fixea upon me his lustreless, wide-open eyes. His beard sparkled with frost, and icicles hung at the cormers of his mouth. The old woman had the bliss- ful smile of a child; but that smile was fixed, frozen in the unmoving wrinkles of her cheeks. " At last the spectres faded away in the air, but the whirlwind still sang its melancholy refrain, and aroused in my soul a feeling of rebellion. 1 had been considering all the strange Camel’s Working Life. Camels are fit for serious work at | five years, and their stremgth begins to decline at tweaty-five years, al | thongh they live for thirty-five and forty years. § | more and more they slowly turned. and took, little by’ forms in silence, and as if through the fog of sleep; but now something arose within me, and I wished to speak. Again the spectres came together in a single group and formed a confused cloud, wherein I saw eyes of all colors, the eyes of my characters, which look- ed upon me with anguish. 1 grew distressed and ashamed under those looks, so dull and lifeless. The tempest ceased to roar, and all | noise died away with it. I no longer heard the monotonous ticking of my ! watch, nor the rustling of the snow, nor the voice which had spoken to me.» There was perfect silence, and | the vision hung in the air, and seemed | to be awaiting some mysterious signal. | And I also waited, passionately, with ! { al} the strength which remained in my weakened soul. ‘This lasted for a long time, and I could not withdraw my gaze from the vision, until I cried out at last: “My God! Why is this? does all this mean?” Then the slow, passionless was heard again: “Reply yourseif to you own ques- | tions. Why did you write all those things? Without contenting yourself with real troubles, with the tangible and visible misfortunes of life, why have you invented new tortures and | told them to people, forcing yourself to depict your woeful fancies as ! though they had really existed?! What do you wish to do? To destroy the scant remnants of courage still | left to men, and to deprive them of all | hope of better things by showing them ' only the evil? Are you, perchance, an | enemy of brightness and hope, and do | i you take pleasure in creating the blackest and the saddest things, in| order to add, without respite, to the disenchantment of the human race? Or do you, indeed, hate to live by rep- ! resenting existence as an ordeal with- out end? What is your purpose? Speak!™ I was dismayed. Strange reproach- | | es, were they not? Everybody uses | the same method in writing, especially | | when Christmas stories are in ques- tion. One takes a poor little boy or | a poor little girl, and makes them die of cold, no matter where, under the | windows of some fine house where the | lighted tree is shining. It is a cus- tom; 1 have followed it—that is all 1 felt justified and decided to explain the meaning of my Christmas tales, “Listen,” 1 began; “I do not know who you are, and | do not wish to know. You have asked me some questions. Very well, 1 am going to answer them; and afterwards 1 hope that you will not longer deny me the right to sleep in peace for the remain- | der of the night. In portraying these | miseries and agonies L only think of awakening in others sentiments of | compassion and humanity; 1 try to eoften hearts which, alas, are often dry and hard.’ A strange alarming movement took place among the shadows. 1 looked at them, stupefied, without understand- ing their meaning. They turned about in a silent round, as though a sudden attack of fever had seized upon all of them. They writhed, as if struggling | in a whirlpool which threatened to carry them away, to tear them to pleces. Again the tempest howled, whistled, laughed, and moaned. And the spectres trembled; their lifeless eyes were still as cavernous as before, although the faint outlines of their | faces were contracted by horrible, phantom-like grimaces. The blue phos- phorescent light wavered under this silent, incomprehensible dance of the spectres. ! A cold sweat broke out upon my | body, and my hair stood on end. “They are laughing," said the pas-’ slonless voice. “At what?” I asked in scarcely audible. “At you.” “Why?" “Because of the silliness of your childish talk. By depicting imaginary troubles you wish to awaken good feelings in the hearts of men for whom real troubles are a sight only too common! Reflect! If the miser- able reality fails to touch men, and does not wound their souls, will your idle fancies enlighten their con- science? And you think that you can succeed? And you cherish such a hope ?” The grinning spectres continued their merriment. It seemed to me that it would never end, that I should see it, filled with terror, until the day of my death. The tempest, also i laughed cymically, and deafened me, and still the soulless voice talked, and talked. I strove to escape from the obses- sion. I wrapped myself in darkness, full of grief and rage. And, suddenly, rolling from my bed, I was cast head-foremost into & dark abyssTin which I swallowed, suffocat- ed by the swiftness of my fall. The pitiless laughter of the spectres pur- sued me. Through the shadows they seemed to gaze at me, fixedly. At dawn I awoke with a violent pain in my head, and a sense of distress. My first action was to seize the pages in which T had described the adven- | tures of the blind old man and his companion. 1 tore them up without rereading. I threw the fragments out of the window, and they were scat- tered by the morning breeze. And with them flew away at once all those visions born of the hallucinations of the night, which had brought before my eyes all the sorrows distresses, oppreseions, the inexbaustible gtory of | which I had wished to tell. What voice a voice A Consideration. “Do you want §our wife to vote?” “I don’t mind,” replied Mr. Growch- er, “but I hope they don’t make elec- tion day costumes t0c expensive.” | | fully. | sons has been able to save from the | * planning things. Dividing the Treasure - [ ] (Copyright, 1912, by Assoclated Literary Press.) “Well” The crusty little lawyer regarded Phillipsborn with a glance of scrutiny in which Dick imagined there was more triumph than regret. “It's not well,” retorted Dick cheer- “l understand you to say that every penny is wiped out?” “There are a few thousands to be saved,” explained the little lawyer, slowly—almost unwillingly. Crew had come to dislike this young man who had health and wealth and the ca- pacity for enjoyment. ‘Crew had all three, but not at the same time. Wealth had come at the expense of health and the power of pleasure, and he envied Dick his opportunities. “I believe that with judicious man- | agement as much as ten thousand can be realized by selling Parsons up ! and—" 1 “That will be all rupted Phillipsborn. of that,” inter! “What Mr. Par-| wreck, let him keep. He needs it more | than I do.” “But when you have sacrified your entire fortune in seeking to save a comparative stranger, it is only right that what is left should be yours,” pro- | tested Crew. He knew where he could eell up the crippled Parsons and make a cool ten thousand Tor himself on the deal. Phillipsborn swung around in the swivel chair in which he had been sit- | ting. “We won’t discuss that at all,” he | said quietly. “I scarcely knew Mr. Parsons before I went into this deal, | but there was a time—years ago— | when my father needed $5,000 in cash to protect his little fortune. Mr. Par- sons let him have ... That was the real start of dad’s career.” “And now you let him have a hun- | dred times that—and it is the end of | your career,” reminded the little law- yer. “Now that I know just where I That Night He Ran Across Payton at the Club. stand, suppose that you render your bill and close the account,” sald Dick. That night he ran across Payton Clavering at the club. It was cheaper to eat at the club than at a restau- rant, and Dick had gone there much of late. Tonight he was sitting at a table by himself when Clavering dropped into the seat opposite, “I hope you don't mind, old chap,” he sald with an apologetic smile. “I hate to break in on a fellow, and if you'd rather be alone, I'll seek some other victim, but the fact is I'm bored to death. I wish I was back in the old days when a fellow could hire a little hunchback to give him a chance to laugh now and then. The theater's & bore, and if 1 hired some of those vaudeville persons to give me a show all to myself, they'd talk and I'd get my pame in the papers.” “You're just the man I'm looking for,” announced Phillipsborn. “I sup- pose you've heard that I backed the Holmes-Parsons deal, and that it busted me. I'm the Mllllonalml Amusement company now. Want to give me my first commission?” “I say, you'd look jolly odd in cap and bells,” suggcsted Clavering. “I'm not going to put on a clowh suit and tell you jokes,” protested Dick. “Mine is a better scheme than that. You want something to do, and you don’t know what you want. You pay me a retainer, and I'll find some- thing that you want to do and tell you what it is. If you like it, all you have to do is to make out a check, and I look after all the details.” Clavering glanced sharply at Dick to detect a lurking smile. He was a good-humored, rather dense young fellow, and the other men in the club bad a way of quietly guying him. Dick’s face showed only eager in- tenseness, and Clavering nodded an approving head. “That sounds pretty good,” he con- ceded, “and I always was a duffer lt' 1 gave a picnic last decent eating place before I remem- Hibernation. | is phenomenal, but the i s some warm-blooded ami- ' find themselves suddenly by frigld weather, and | functions that make for the life are as if they had never is most curious. While it s explicable it is aone the less I E T ! with good springs. bered that I'd forgotten a lunch. What would you suggest, old chap?”’ Dick was staggered for a moment. “The company isn’t in working order yet,” he began slowly. “You see, the idea is only half formed. I didn't sup- pose that I should find a client imme- diately but—what do you saytoa hunt for buried treasure?” he added as his eyes fell upon the evening pa- per that he had laid beside his plate when the oysters had been brought. “It's just the time of year for a cruise in southern waters. Form a little party, and I'll come to you with some charts that Sir William de Morgan or one of those pirate chaps left. 1 can get one done by that man who makes fake family trees for the recently ar- rived. I've seen some of his work—so have you if you only knew it—and it only lacks the trade mark to be the real goods. We'll have to pretend that it is real, but there will be the fun of pretending and there will at least be a pleasant cruise and something to talk about.” “I say, I like that,” cried Clavering. ! “We won't tell the others, and we can get our fun fooling them. You fix it up, and when you're ready, I'll sign | the check.” A few days later he sought Claver- ing bearing a masterpiece of forgery. The parchment was old and stained. It was worn on the edges and patched here and there with bits of cloth and paper of other texture. No one not “in the know” would have guessed that a week before the parchment had lain in the stock of an art dealer. On it was set forth the fact that Sir Wil- llam de Morgan, being hard pressed, had hidden his plunder on an island, the location of which was given—"and by signs to be seen,” the plunder could be located in a certain cave. “How about the cave part?’ de- manded Clavering. “It gives it the right touch, you know, but what shall we do when we reach the island and find that there is no cave?” “But there is a cave,” explained Dick proudly. *“I told you that this would be worked out right. There is a little cave on the island, and I know Jjust where it is, but it will take a lot | ! of looking, and we can string it out as long as we want to. of Nicaragua. It's off the coast It's a great little place 1 located an old ship captain who told me all about it.” “Now we need another document that sets forth that you get half, You know,” reminded Clavering. “That will explain why I happen to be on your boat, instead of my own. You know what I mean. You have the paper and I put up the ocash.” “Suppose that we do stumble across a fortune?” asked Dick jokingly. “It goes just the same,” was the sericus response. “You're entitled to half of anything we find. It's worth it, by Jove! 1 feel like a boy. It beats Just a plain yachting trip all hollow, even if we two do know that it's all a fake.” “We're children still and we like to pretend,” reminded Dick as he folded up the paper. “I can have turer ready in a week.” | % the Ven- ! | | “None too soon for me,” cried Clav- & ering, and eight days later the com- fortable yacht slipped from port. It was an uneventful trip to the southern ocean. and the little party spent entire days on deck. Dick was almost sorry when at last the island was reached. It was a tiny little dot on the surface of the blue sea, scarcely ten miles long and not quite filve wide, with black, forbidding rocks instead of the white coral they had all expected. Without premeditation two search- ing parties were formed and for a week they ranged the island before hope began to give place to discour- agement, and Dick and Clavering agreed that the cave should be discov- ered the following day. Even with his knowledge, it was not easy for Dick to locate the tiny open- ing, but at last he got his bearings and by cutting away the brush the opening at last stood disclosed. With eager exclamations the treas- ure seekers swarmed into the narrow mouth only to be driven back by the swarm of bats and birds that had | sought shelter therein, It was an hour before they at last stood inside the cave. It was long and narrow, leading directly into the heart of the sole- eminence on the island and eagerly they pressed forward. No “signs to be seen” gave hint of the location of the treasure and Edith | Barclay pouted. “l1 suppose the silly old pirate m something with whitewash and imagined that it would last for- ever,” she exclaimed petulantly, “We'll have to dig up the entire floor of the cave to find anything and then per- haps we won’t find anything.” A cry from Bess Clavering inter- rupted her, and she and Clavering hur- | | rled towards the end of the cave where Bess and Dick had gone. “I've found the treasure, but not de Morgan’s,” explained Bess with a tense little laugh. “We've located something better than gold pleces. I was pretty good at geology at Vassar, and unless I'm very much mistaken, I've located an underground lake of asphalt.” She pointed to the somber wall that seemed to be bulging from its place. Dick was eagerly digging at the sur- face with his machete while Bess col- lected the specimens. “It has hardened in the cool of the cave,” she explained, “but it is the best quality of asphalt and we can buy the island from the government for almost nothing. We've found the treasure, Bdith, and it's more than you ever dreamed of.” > “And half is Phillipsborn’s,” remind- ed Clavering. “You're a millionaire, old man, and you jolly well deserve be.” — Valuadble Sest, — Wint st Berlin are cleaned about one thousand dollars worth of gold is tak- sa trom the soot. : | endures the winter wn,, thg chimneys of the reyal ' | | | The seas were calm | | ! & o O ELECTRIC o8 Get Your Coupons in the Great Yoting Contest at the Hub. This is the only Gents’ Furnishing Store in Town gi ing Yotes with Purchases of Goods Our Spring Line Is Coming in Daity See Qur Windows They reflect the Superb Stock with which our Store is filled. The Hub THE HOME OF Hart Schaffner and Marx Good Coth'ng JOS. LeVAY The Financial Crisis Over We are now in shape to give you the benetit of our Low Kxpenses. 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 Laa ] ELECTRIC & IT WILL PAY YOU} TO ; CONSULT US | ON THE ELECTRIC WIRING IN YOUR HOUSE OR STORE We Are | Electrical Experts FLORIDA ELECTRICS&MACHINERY Co THE ELECTRIC STORE Kibler Hotel Bldg. Must Little Homeless Children Suffer In Florida? WE DO NOT BELIEVE that the good people of Flor- ida reulize 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 cannot believe—that with these facts true—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. N