Lakeland Evening Telegram Newspaper, May 3, 1915, Page 6

Youth’s Victorious Hour By ALICE BEVAN HURLBUT (Copyright, 1915, by W. G. Chapma: ) “A boy to be proud of!” boasted Mr. Geoffrey Burridge. “He graduates with the highest honors tomorrow. It has been rather harsh and cheerless for a warm-hearted. lovable fellow Hke Chester to know nothing of the joys of a real home, but my system has carried him through all the trials and tests incidental to a live, up-to- date young fellow, and I congratulate myself. Yes, sir—I feel a glowing con- sciousness of having done a great work!" Hayden Storm, college subtutor, bowed in apparent acquiescenc~ with the vaunting mood of his companion, The while he smiled to himself. Mr. Burridge was in a garrulous mood and Storm let him run on at will. “I'm a determined man when I set my will at work on a thing,” proceed- ed rich and self-satisfied Geoffrey Bur- ridge. “You have been very clcse and very kind to Chester, and I cau speak to you in confidence. Five years ago my wife crossed me in a business mat- ter. It was trivial, but I acted on principle. We disagreed. We went each our own way. Almost heartless- ly, I may say, she left home and fam- ily. Went to Europe, I believe. Wouldn't give in to me. Hah! Since then not a word to me, or to the boy. Since then he has been at the college here. 1 started him in on a system of restriction, sir, I may say of economy. 1 laid down strict rules. He has never dared to break them. He had better not, sir, for I am a stern disciplinarian, Result: The star graduate, My sys- tem. Hah!” Again, covertly, almost satirically, Hayden Storm smiled. Then, the se- date, over-courteous subordinate of a great college, he bowed a dignified adieu to his companion as the latter strolled away. “System! Discipline!” he comment- ed. “How little he knows! Chester is, “System! Discipline!” He Commented. indeed, a mode! young man, but how it would astound that stubborn-headed old mule to know the real merits of the case!"” The loyal-hearted subtutor proceed- ed to the room of Chester Burridge an hour later. When Mr. Burridge had incidentally remarked that Storm had been close and kind to_ his son, he only touched the surface of vast underlying facts. More than that had Storm been —guide, counsellor, true, true friend. Never was a conceited self-opinion- ated man more at sea than Mr. Bur- ridge. It was true he had received &ood reports only of his son. But, mercifully screened from his knowl- edge had been the thousand and one missteps, errors and escapades that fall to the lot of any unexperienced young man. Chester had sown “wild oats,” but only in patches. Always at his side, kind, brotherly, extenuating, there had been Storm. Older than his protege, generally strict and solemn, he had won the confidence, the regard, the love of the impetuous lad. “Tomorrow we part, Storm,” spoke Chester, with genuine sadness, as they sat together. “Dear old friend, how I shall miss you! To think of how you have guided me, shielded me, made a man of me! And at what expense! Old fellow, there is a long score to settle.” “Not of money,” responded Storm seriously. “Why—" “That has been other.” “You mean?” exclaimed the mysti. fied Chester. “Your mother.” “‘Oh, impossible!” “Listen.” Then Hayden Storm recited a strange story. He told how, a month after the father of Chester had placed Chester at the college, a veiled lady had called upon him. It was Mrs. Burridge. She spoke of the implacable obstinacy and rigorous rules of her _-upvlied by an- Valuable Alaskan Dogs. In Alaska where horseflesh is scarce, dogs are used in farming operations. A palr of dogs hitched to a small wheel plow will do excellent service i the potato patch and a team of six dogs will draw 1,000 pounds of pro- to market grances Diminished by Sunlight. Flowers are more fragrant when the . Sun is not shining on them, according £0 & French scientist, because the olls Produce the perfume are forced by the water Pressure in the plant a3d this is diminished by sua- g |of Mr. Storm to become his guardian, 8 | —oh, where is she?” 'hluband. At the first boyish outbreak of Chester he would spoil his lite by ' [chiding him. A nature like that of | Chester, galled by suppression and | censure, would revolt. She had begged and gave him money to see that the boy did not feel like a beggar. “My mother!” breathed Chester in- tensely. “How I have misjudged her “She will soon come to see you,” pronounced the subtutor. “My dear | bos. it has been a labor of love to help (You 1 am proud of you!” lie led the talk into other channels. He spoke of Miss Erna Winsted, whom Chester loved, and wondered how his | stern exacting father would take the | announcement of their engagement. | Miss Erna Winsted, dainty, petite and lovely, trembled with suspense and then thrilled with delight when the graduation exercises began the next day. She had selected a shad- owed corner of the great auditorium, to be alone and shielded from obser- vation, so she could enjoy the rapture of seeing her brave lover receive the first prize. Near to her was seated a lady well- dressed and deeply veiled. She, too, seemed to be intensely interested in the main orator of the occasion. Erna could not fail to observe evidences of the deepest emotion. The stranger breathed tremulously, once she seemed to sob and weep. Then some incoherent words, appar- ently of joy, left her lips. And then, with a slight moan she swayed to one side, and, her head sink- ing directly into the lap of the aston- ished Erna, she lay there insensible. Miss Winsted did not wish to create any commotion, for just then the pre- sentation of the oratorical prize was being made. She tactfully brushed aside the veil and pressed a phial of smelling salts to the nostrils of the unconscious lady. Slowly the latter revived. She stared wonderingly at her gentle nurse. Just then Chester Burridge, radiant with the excitement and triumph of the occasion, sought out his fair fiancee. He was all smiles as he extended to the girl he loved the Jjeweled recogni- tion of his ability. Then his eyes fell upon the face of her companion. In a vast gasp the word left his lips: “Mother!" She lifted two pleading hands to- wards him. They nestled in his lov- ing, welcoming grasp. Erna sat spell- bound at the unusual scene. “I am weak,” murmured Mrs. Bur ridge. “Get me to my hotel. 1 am sorry I disturbed you, young lady.” “Your mother?” murmured Erna softly. “Dear madam, become our care till we see you comfortable," Hayden Storm saw them as they went away in an automobile. . His lips puckered queerly. He forgot his dig- nity sufficiently to utter a low whistle of wonder and amazement. “What has transpired?” he reflected. “Mother and son and flancee—to- gether! The direction given to the chauffeur was the hotel. Shall I act on my own initiative? Yes!" Half an hour later ne was closeted with Geoffrey Burridge in his own room. He had a story to tell, and he told it well. It made the stubborn-headed old mule wince to learn that to the lost wife and her auxiliary, Storm, was due the making of his son. But, perverse as he was, his heart recognized the true merits of the devo- tion of the wife he had misjudged. “You—you are a good man,” he said humbly. “I admit my fault. As to Mrs. Burridge—" “Is she not worth reclaiming?” gently intimated the subtutor, Then both went to the hotel. Storm was first to present himself to the happy trio in the room of Mrs. Bur- ridge. A forunate youth, truly, Chester Bur- ridge adjudged himself in that signal hour of youth’s victory. He saw the estranged reconciled, he knew that none would dispute him his bride now. And Hayden Storm smiled, satisfied supremely. Then, noble man that he was, he went back to his lonely toil, his life sweetened by the good he had done. NOT SUNDAY SCHOOL TEXT Johnny's Badge, With Its Inscription, Gave Pastor Something in the Nature of a Shock. Little Jack was inordinately proud of the big, round badge which his father had brought home from the Au- tomobile show. It had a picture of a famous automobile on one side, and a motto in large golden letters on the other. He wore it to Sunday school. / The pastor walked down among the “scholars,” smiling upon each bright- faced little boy and girl, after the time-honored fashion of pastors on such errand bent. The badge on the little boy's coat caught his eye. “Ah, my son, what have you there?" “That's my golden text," answered Jack eagerly, beaming like a chessy- cat. “Your golden text? That's very nice, indeed. And what does it say?" Little Jack held it up for inspection. The pastor's fatherly smile diq not disappear, but you might say it stit- fened as he read Jack's golden text: “Aln’t it Hell to be Poor!" —_— A Vexatious Woman. “No wonder Mr. Blowster frequently loses his temper.” “Why so?" “Mrs. Blowster aggravates him all | through the winter months by saying repeatedly, ‘Henry, when you shake down the furnace you needn't try to |shake down the house. * —_— Warmth From the Heart. Hearth warmth is generated by the | triendly touch of another’s hand. ———— “Landlady’™ The distinction which the posses sion of land used to give is still exem- plified in the titles of “landiord” and | “landlady.” Persons are amused st the colored washwoman, for instance, Who insists on the term “lady.” But let the same woman run a rooming Rouse, of whatever description, and he is not & “landwoman,” but a “land- lndy.” urtship a la Mode =— By ——— [ GEORGE COBBETT OO OOOOD | (Copyright, 1915, by W. G. Chapman.) De Vincy, polished Frenchman and man of the world though he was, felt strangely disconcerted as he found himself face to face with Miss Elsie Vining. They had never met face to face be- ' fore without the presence of a third person. Indeed, from the beginning it had been quite obvious to observers . that an excessive amount of worldly | ceremony, amounting to the ridiculous in the free iand of America, surround- | ed the pair. | In the big ballroom the cynics looked at each other and grinned. “They've gone into the conserva- | tory together at last,” said Charlie | Twiss. “Look at old Mamma Vining! | Doesn’t she look conscious that she's pulled off a good thing?” “And look at papa,” said his friend, Bobby Brooks. “He seems to think his millions have worked something almost as good as a stock exchange coup.” The heartlessness of the marriage de convenance in America is 8o much greater than in France just because it is so unnatural an institution. In France De Vincy would have been con- scious that it was a fair exchange—his title against the dowry. Indeed, he did not feel that he was about to per- form a disreputable action when he started for America to win a woalthy bride and thus increase the family reve- nues. The only thing really upon his conscience was that the agent, Smith, as he chose to call himself, had €peci- fied Miss Vining as his prospective bride. “She’s pretty eno . in the cold' American way,” he said to the vi»‘ ( i | Just the | mon.i “This Is the First Time We Have Been Together.” comte. “She's nearer twenty than thirty, and she will inherit money enough, our American representative tells me, to pay all your debts hand- somely, as well as our commission.” What did unnerve the vicomte was the realization that the few short peri- 0ds of their association had aroused in him a certain feeling toward which he had long been a stranger. In fact, the sight of the girl's beauty had aroused the latent chivalry of the man. As his prospective wife he regarded Miss Vining with that deference which lies in the heart of every Frenchman “This is the first time we have been together,” he said lightly. The girl stood facing him, her fin- gers twining nervously about the fronds of a fern. “Yes,” she answered in a mechani- cal manner. Then, with a sudden out- burst: “Cannot we be utterly frank with one another? I am so surround- ed by hypocrisies and deceits. . , . Come, let us have a half hour of per- fect frankness The young man sprang to his feet. “Do you mean that, Miss Vining?” he sked, catching fire from her words. Jtter frankness?" “Whatever the—the pain it costs?" “Whatever the pain.” “Then listeh,” he began. “I have come here to ask you to be my wife. Lverybody in the baliroom knows that ¢ have not come here by accident, believe?” ¢ nodded again, and a sudden sense of that espionage made him reckless. “Well then, I have taken it or granted that you would consent My family’s fortunes are at an ebb, aud it was necessary that one of us should purchase an heiress in Amer- ica.” He saw ner wince slightly, but then she smiled. “Go on, please,” she said, facing him boldly. “I was selected by my family coun- cil. I must tell you that according to our ideas there was nothing deroga- tory to our honor in the proposition It was to be a fair exchange My title against your money 1 was given a e Good Word for the Muje. “Some men.” said Uncle Eben, “put in deir lives kickin' at nothin’. Dar's dis much to be said foh de mule. It he's interested enough to kick, he's xfllln' to go to de trouble of takin’ m.” Swat the Fly. Would you enjoy your dinner if you saw bedbugs, fleas, roaches or spiders crawling all over the foodstuffs? Yet, this form of vermin is comparatively clean in comparison with fiies. Swat ! the first fiy you see. ' list by Smith, the agent who finances these adventures.” “Ah! T did not know that they were financed,” she said. “It is a_common practice. Smith invested ten thousand dollars in the game If I failed to win a bride he lost it. If I gained one ae was to get five times his investment It is a lucrative profession, you see.” “And he trusted to your honor to get one?” she asked with withering emphasis. “Yes. And so [ have come here to ask you to be my wife tonight.” “Well, you have been very frank,” answered the girl. “Now I will be equally so. 1 was brought up in lux- ury, with the idea of making a fash- ionable marriage with a man of title. It didn’t matter who he was—English, French, German, Italian, or what his character was, or his age, or his per- sonality, so long as he had a title. The higher, the better, you know. Well, when you came to New York, of course we all understood your motive in call- ing upon me. When I am with a plain American he takes me to theaters and the opera alone. Sometimes he may take me out in his auto. But for you, you know, I had to play the part of an ingenue. 1 was a delicate hot- house flower, who must never be shown alone. I had to have a chaperon with me always. That was part of the game. You understand that?” “No, I didn’t understand that,” an- swered the man, wincing in his turn. “But pray go on, Miss Vining.” “That is about all, except that I was hawked round Europe last year and the year before They nearly married me to an Italian prince. But at the last moment it was discovered that he was a courier from Turkey, masquer- ading. Probably he, too, was in touch with your man Smith.” “I hardly think so, Miss Vining,” an- swered the young man thoughtfully. “You sce, Smith is an honest broker, s0 to alk, and on!; handles the real artiel The flicker of o her mouth for the | “Well,” myself one ~mile played about 8t time. inied, “I don’t count ter than you, un- derstand both simply the vie- ms of circun nees » bargain proposed was a very suitable one. It isn't that gll the people in our sogiety are like this, Yoii st know. It fs new-rich—us: The decent families wouldn't have anything to do with us They marri~d their own peo- ple. Howevor, | tuppose | oughén't to disparage m; own tariily And now, Ppese we play out this farce to Jic end” “By all wcon:, Le replied. “Miss Viring, I have horor to ask your hind in m..:iage” '“The answer is 'no, ’ said the girl. Then she looked in amazement at his chagrined expression In fact, such a reply had never occurred to him. “But seriously,” he urged She flashed up angrily. “Did you seriously believe, then, that I would be willing to sell myself?” she cried. “Why, never—never, sir. 1 have al- ways resolved that. If [ do play a parasite’s part at least my heart is clean. When I marry, it any man of my own nation is willing to take me, 8oiled as I am, he shall. But this— Her anger was so genuine that the man did not know how to reply “But I will ask you one Question,” she continued. “A womaw's cu osity, you know. Why did you select e out of all the girls upon the list that the man Smith gave you? “Why?" he repeated stupidly. “Yes. Rich as we are, I know sev- eral families that are richer and have eligible daughters.” “Why, because 1 tell in tove with you,” he retorted. “What!" she ecried “After telling me that”' “But I have never said | did not love you. In fact, I have loved you since I first saw you " “Is this part of the game, too?" she demanded; but he saw that her lips were quivering. And suddenly some interior emotion surged up in him and banished the last touch of cynicism. He fell upon his knees before her and clasped her hands. e “Miss Vining Elsie, I love you with all my heart," he cried. “Can you — do you think that if I prove my love I can win you?" She had broken down under the passion of her heart. The anger which had held her evaporated, leaving only a very miserable and very helpless girl. He rose to his feet “l am going back to France,” he saiq “1 cannot expect you to believe in me, And yet it was my love for you that prompted me to say what I have said. I could not win you with a lie. So I told you, as you asked me. But before 1 go, will you tell me that there may be a hope for me at some distant time? Let the money go, the title go; Jjust look upon me as one who loves you and desires you " Elsie Vining lifted her tear-stained face to his. “I don’t think—there 15 any need for you to go back to France,’ she said softly. Ten minutes later Bobby PBrooks nudged Charlie Twiss “Here comes the bridal pair—bridle pair, perhaps would be a better term,” he said. “My! Don't they look pleased with themselves! " “They ought to, seeing what each has got out of it,” answered Charlie. “Say, I shouldn't pe surprised it there was a romance in it after all,” suggested his friend. “Well, if money and a title aren't romantic, what 1s?" replied the Other. “But still, you never can tell.’ in incredulously. Expensive Wood, One of the most expensive woods used regularly in an established in. dustry in the United States is box- wood, the favorite material for wood carving. It has been quoted at four cents a cubic inch, ang about $1,300 by the thousand board feet. g “ e, Goes the Limit. When a woman is angry she tells a man just what she thinks of him—and, Incidentally, just what ghe thinks oth- o people think of him. THROUSH MANY DOORS By JANE OSBORN. and Lee Bateman passed that thresh- | old one day toward the middle of that memorable senior year at college. | Molly was different from the other girls in the college town. None of the boys knew her. It was said that Doctor Dare had refused to allow Mol- 1y to waste her time with the college boys, and wasn't this very fact added to the golden hair and the bewitching smile, enough to fire any college senior’s spirit of adventure? But that first door—the front door -—of the rambling old mansion was the wrong way to find Molly. To be sure, Lee Bateman was received into the stately old mahogany drawing | room and Mrs. Dare talked to him | with unenthusiastic courtesy and had even made out the check that patron- esses were expected to contribute to the senior dance. But Lee's expecta- tions of seeing Molly were disap- pointed. His only glimpse of her was a fleeting vision through the window as she went out for am afternoon drive. “Still there are other doors,” he thought. “Molly doesn’t come out of that door when she goes driving. She uses the side door.” But the next day when Lee tried to approach that door in the disguise of a book agent he found that the door was guarded by Molly's pet bulldog, who treated Lee with the usual canine cordiality toward book agents. Then there was the back door. All houses had back doors, Lee knew, and perhaps if he made his entrance that way he'might find Molly making fudge in the kitchen. Luck had been against him so far and it was bound to turn. It was not hard to induce the grocer boy to let him deliver the rice and tea and coffee: and a little change in the way of a cap and a coat transformed him to the part. But Molly wasn't making fudge that afternoon. To be sure the cook was kind but Lee had oo SoC D92 TAg rng Jut no satisfaction in thé encotinter. The fourth door seemed the most difficult. It was the doctor's office door. But somehow Lee went directly into the doctor's private office, and before he realized what had happened he found himself being questioned by the doctor as to the trouble which had brought him there, “Sprained ankle,” said Lee on the spot and the doctor immediately got | to work with bandage and liniment. Ten minutes later, when Lee paid the doctor his fee, there was a twin- kle in the old doctor's eye. Lee jumped out through the pas- sage into the hall of the house and there—the fates had relented at lagt— he saw Molly, the gold hair and the sweet smile and the merry gray eyes, and even the pet dog who accepted Molly’s recognition of Lee as sufficient reason to abandon hostilities. Molly Knew Mr. Rateman, and she was sorry that he had sprained his ankle and she opened the front door and watched him with concern as he limped down the front steps. It was only two minutes' encounter, but it was enough to fire the ardor of Lee's devotion, : Lee limped—when he thought of it —around the campus for the day and the next day he was one of the first afternoon patients waiting for the doctor's professional servicos. There were more bandages and more lini- . and then there was that won. passage through the house to the frent door, where Molly again ap- peared. The next day the ankle was | no better. The doctor agreed with Lea that it needed daily attention, and Lee's limp was so affectinz that Molly droye him back to the campus in her pony cart. The ankle had to recover. Bandages and limiment would, of course, have their results. But there were other complaints that a senior might in- vent. There were sprained wrists and strained eyes and strange unaccount- able pains, and always the kindly doctor discovered symptoms that Lee | had not even dreamed of, and always he accepted Lee's spot payment with the same apparent satisfaction in money well earned. And always | there was the passage through the house, and always there was Molly who seemed to hover near the passage- way at office hours. Still Molly did not ask him to come by the side door or the front door, and Lee did not dare | to ask her for the privilege. Some- times Lee stayed a half hour and some- times he felt that in Molly's smile he caught a faint reflection of the devo- tion that had inspired his daily v Then one day—it was nearing fina examination time and Molly haq been especially eager to kne- 1 ra's nlan for the future—TLee had tha )- ticipated opportunity to tolj his love and to fee] in her glan-~e the response he had become so erzor to receive. “And now,"” saiq Molly, with a laugh that was contagious, “daddy can Square his conscience about those fees. He knew that you were bluffing and he didn't want to let you keep on paying him. But 1 wouldn't let him stop. I was afraid that ¥ou wouldn't come any more. But father likes you for your foolishness. Anq he never Wwould have had a chance to know you | So well if it hadn't been for those daily visits. But he has just been say- | ing the fees to return with interest " Fusel oll never of progress. e ————— Goat le Regimental Pet, The everyday goat is responsible for | the nickname of the Royal Welsh fu- slleers—the “Nanny Goats.” A goat i the regimental mascot and is led at the head of the column. On St Da- vid's day, in the officers’ mess, the goat, escortea by drume and fite, 1s marched around the table. ety Worth While Quotations. - ever wait for lite to come to you, create the atmosphere around you, ve in joy until it Somes, for she is only half alive who allows lite to make her instead of making — Selected. 5 greases the wheels but WHO GETS THE MONEY YOU EARN? DO YOU GET IT, DOES SOMEBODY ELSE WHO DOES NOT EARN IT? YOUR “EARNING POWER” CANNOT LAST ALWAYS, WHILE YOUARE MAKING MONEY BANK IT ANDIBE FIxp FOR OLD AGE. JUST DO R LITTLE THINKING. BANK IWITH US. WE PRY 5 PER CENT INTEREST ON TIME DEPOSITS.2 American State Bank ‘BEIAN 1AMERICANTONE! OF US.” Now is the Time to Lay 98 Ib. Sacks Best Plain Flour 24 Ib. Sacks Best Plain Flour 12 1b. Sacks Best Plain Flour 98 Ib. Srif-Rising Fiour $3.85 1.00 50c 400 E. 6. TWEEDELL PHONE 59 The Expression “Cut and Dried” Is used to o describe some action or event 'S prearranged—all plappeg in ad- yanee and carried oyt accordingly, It also applies to oy stock of which is Certainly A Cut and Dried Proposition ?argfully and accurately cut to the dimen- slons required, dry and sound, there’s no better lumber to be found, e R e e ey Lakeland Manufacturing Company LAKELAND, FLA. PHONE 76 lumber