Lakeland Evening Telegram Newspaper, June 2, 1915, Page 7

DREAN pht, 1915, by W. G. Chapman.) strode out of the casino at lo exultantly, conscious that Ind eyes were watching him ly. Two hours before he had th fifty francs in his pocket, money he possessed in the had broken the bank—he | e a hundred thousand francs, | ly thousand dollars in Ameri- ey. He had achieved a rec- e had thrice backed winning in a single sitting. never had more than five dollars in his life. He his future as he strode he palm gardens. Heé would ' nte Carlo the following morn- would go home, buy an es- le down, marry, perhaps— n, monsieur!” gure lurched against him ly. As Childe stepped aside nan sprang at him from the He struck clumsily, how- ilde’s fist shot out. The man, arely upon the jaw, col- pon the ground. His com- pok to his heels. Childe, with lance at the prostrate ruffian, | way hastily back to his ho- le place run by a scoundrelly e, but the best that Childe able to afford. not like the idea of spending night there, but no matter. orning he would be gone. As- fimself that his winnings were | he entered, ascended the @nd flung himself down on his dressed. pur later he was aroused by a g at the door. He thrust his t cautiously. The landlord | | | i i ' i ! 7 ! ' will reach Italy by five in the morn- ' palm gardens. ry Me,” Answered Childe. itwo gendarmes stood in the pas- little error, doubtless, monsieur,” red the landlord. onsieur Childe?” rmes. Vell, gentlemen?” 'ou are under arres pair of revolvers simultaneously red him. Childe shrugged his ders. you wish,” he said indifferently. at is the charge?” The sergeant will explain that, feur.” ompanied by the men, Childe ended the stairs, crossed the de- led road, and, after many turms, pd himself outside a disreputable fion house. Inside was an official desk, yawning. his is the murderer,” announced of the gendarmes. What?” cried Childe. You are accused of the murder of itizen of Monaco in the Palm Gar- s,” explained the sergeant. “If have any valuables you will hand over and receive an acknowl- ent.” But the fellow attacked me—" ilde began. Doubtless monsieur will convince p court as to that,” explained the nt. 'en minutes later Childe, his money ne, with a receipt in his pocket as e security for it, was pacing his ow cell gloomily. However, he inquired the sure that on the following day he | puld be able to explain to the court d be acquitted. He cursed Monte rlo with all his heart. The next morning a lawyer came to e him—an American. Childe’s heart | ped up. [mmediately he began to pound the situation. However, the vyer took a gloomy view of the e. have no preliminary process B! he told him. “Your case will me ~up at the next sessions, in a onth's time. de a native court, you know, in e of assault, and unfortunately the It is difficult to per-! llow, in falling, struck the base of 1l and received a concussion brought about death within a 1t I were you I would hich minutes. k to see Signor Martino—" “Who in thunder's that?" asked hilde. “Qur consul. very faithful, and he'll do all he n to have your case brought before state department.” “All right,” seid Childe. That afternoon Signor Italian gentleman, peared. He listened to Childe's story Optimistic Thought. Gocd managemcut is better than & ood income “Indeed? And what Martino, | ery bland, unctuous, and affable, ap- with profound regret. Of course he' would do his best, but— ) The “but” meant a month of wait- ing. The only consolation which the prisoner found was that his counsel | felt sure he would be acquitted. And, | in fact, when the day of the trial ar- rived, Childe felt more than recom- pensed for his journey in the thought that the following day would see him | safe aboard a Mediterranean steam- | ship with his money in his pocket. The sergeant listened sympathetic- ally and permitted him to look at his roll of bills in a safe behind the desk “Courage, Monsieur Childe,” he said. “Tonight should see you a free man.” The gendarmes led him under a covered way into the court room. It was a little place, dingier than the station house, and the judge upon the bench appeared an untrustworthy person, in Childe's view. He was ap- parently chewing garlic, and he heard the prosecutor, a gaunt man looking like a bandit, with unpleasant nod- dings of the head. The witnesses, consisting of the second ruffian, and the wife and child (female) of the dead man, who screamed for justice, did not add to Childe’s comfort. Worse still, his consul, Signor Martino, put in an ap- pearance only when the case for the defense began. The proceedings lasted two hours. The judge, without summing up, pro- nounced a verdict of guilty. Childe was sentenced to be guillotined the following month. “l can do no more for you, my friend,” explained his consul with a shrug. “But I will come and talk with you tonight.” That night Childe, pacing his cell like a maniac, received a visit from the consul. A movement was on foot, he said, to have the sentence com- ! muted to penal servitude for life. “I suppose you scoundrels want my | money!” snarled Childe. “Monsieur Childe,” replied the con- sul, “when you have offered an apol- | ogy, through the jailer, T will return to you.” Five days later he came again. Childe had apolegized. “Good luck, my friend,” he cried. “You see, vour sentence is arousing dificulties. The cost of importing a guillotine would be prohibitive, and | the law does not permit us to seques- trate your money. Would you be will- | ing to escape across the border to- night if your cell were unlocked?" “Try me,” answered Childe. At midnight the consul, at the cell | door, thrust a bundle of bills into Childe’s hand. “A carriage walts,” he said. “You ing. Here is your money. No thanks. 1 have done my duty.” Childe set his foot on the step of the carriage, which started off. He stumbled, fell, and felt himself clutch- ing at the earth. Someone was lifting him. He opened | his eyes, to find himself still in the Dawn was in the sky. Beside him stood two gendarmes. “Monsieur has had an accident?” they inquired, not very sympathetical- 1y, glancing at his clothes. Childe rose and shook himself. He | plunged his hand into his pocket. He brought out fifty francs, all he had in i the world. “Why—I1 must have gone to sleep | In the gardens,” he muttered, turning | away. He walked rapidly into the town. At the head of the whart, where the | steamship office stood, he paused and thought. “Im mighty glad T saved this to get home instead of plunging at the Casino,” he sald cheerfully. Kept Him Supplied. Wife—How in the world can you af- ford to buy those expensive cigars? Husband—1I don’t buy them. Wife—Dear me! You don’t mean to say any friend of yours is rich enough to give you such cigars, do you? Husband—Well, no; mnot exactly. That yopng man who has got 8o smit- ten with our daughter— Wite—Huh! No more than she is with him. Husband—Well, he's an agent or ' something for a big firm of cigar im- porters, and generally has his pockets full of their best samples. Well, after we go to beiund the lights are turned down, he takes them out of his pock- ets and puts 'em on the mantelpiece— to keep 'em from getting crushed, I suppose. Then, when it comes to leaving, between the desire to skip without making any noise at such a late hour and the pain of saying good- by to our daughter, he forgets all about them. I tell you, dear, our | daughter has been a pretty heavy ex- pense, but ehe's sort o’ payin’ for her- self now. A Painting. What 18 a painting? It is the lan- guage of the artist in which he ex- presses his thought, conception of mind, or emotion of heart. Where a writer expresses himself in words, the artist expresses himself in colors, lights and shadows. An author’'s de- scription of a place, person or object is but a word picture, while the artist’s canvas stares us in the face, so to speak, flashing the subject continually beforé our eyes until we can grasp its every meaning, without so much as turning a page. Thanks to Gilbert Stuart and his wonderful conception of the portrait of George Washington, it would take a paragraph or more to describe George Washington’s mouth or nose. where Gilbert Stuart tells it to us in a few strokes of his masterful brush.—“Art in American Homes,” Elliot A. Haaseman, in National Mag- azine. collie.”— Ietill young ow. ! Alton. | that, g HIS FRIYOLOUS FAD By ESTHER BAYARD CHURCHILL (Copyright, 1915, by W. G. Chapman.) “I have fully decided. 1 shall not ! alter my mind. You will give up your position here, and go back to college for a post-graduate course of two years.” Thus spoke stern, iron-willed Cyrus Merrill, owner of the oldest and big- gest bank in Ridgeton. His nephew, Alton Merrill, looked glum and dazed. | “Uncle, you can't mean it!” he fal- tered. “Surely you cannot be so un- just as to allow an innocent frolic to alter all the cherished plans of my life?” “An innocent frolic!” repeated the implacable old tyrant. “A mere boyish freak, sir,” insisted “Listen, if you please. terday was my birthday. Some of the old crowd wanted to celebrate, and we went down to the beach for an old- | time clambake.” “Well supplied with good strong drink, too, I doubt not!” chirped the banker. “Not a drop!” declared Alton. “We are not that sort. We had a good time, and on the way home played a foolish trick or two, just as a reminder of our youthful days.” “H'm! You call burning down Farmer Rollins’ haystack an innocent trick, I suppose?” snorted the urcle. “No, sir, that was an accident. One ! of the crowd dropped his cigar and the stuff went ablaze. We've fixed uncle. Each man chipped in, and Mr. Rollins will be indemnified for the loss we caused him before night.” “H'm! Well, this lark of yours, as | you so lightly term it, convinces me “No, Sir, That Was an Accident.”" that you lack the mature balance nec- essary with a young man of business. You are frivolous, unsettled. Why! that photograph fad of yours has cost you a small fortune. Your mind should be on the bank—first, last, and all the time. At the end of a month you will prepare to go back to col-: Why, lege. That {8 my last word. sir,” and the old financier swelled up with a sense of his own vast impor- tance, “I should think my success, and, 1 may say, my infallibility as an ex- pert banker, would set a model for you. It is only by strict attention to business that I have earned the repu- tation of making this institution a veritable stronghold. No borrower ever gets the best of me. No sleek swindler pulls the wool over my eyes.” Meekly, but at soul wretched and unhappy, Alton accepted the dictum of his self-centered relative and passed from the room. Two months previous { he had graduated from college with full honors. His uncle had offered him a position at a good salary in the bank. Forthwith Alton had considered him- self a made man. The first thing he did was to fall in love with pretty Winifred Price, the belle of the village, his second was to become engaged to her and plan a speedy marriage. Perhaps his uncle had learned of this, Alton refiected, and that was the real secret of his drastic action. At all events the ultimatum had been pre- sented. It was open rebellion or sub- mission. If the former, Alton well knew that his uncle would disown him, which meant the loss of the substan- tial backing of a helpful, influential friend. Alton talked over the situation that evening with Winifred. She was sen- sible about it. Better to wait two years than to rush madly into matri- mony with no fixed business establish- mert, she advised. At least, she de- cided, Alton had better keep in his uncle's good graces until he was sure he could shift for himself. So, Altcn mournfully accepted the situation. Winifred consoled him sweetly and Lis photographic fad helped him pass the time when it was unemployed and irksome. He photo- graphed the bank building, outside and interior, in all its phases. He took se- cret snap shots of his uncle in vari- ous poses. Whenever a stranger came mto the bank, he made a picture of him. . “My rogues’ gallery!” he told the cashier whimsically. “Some day some- body will put 1t over us and I will be able to establish his identity." One day. indeed, the banker's hoard- Sustaining Moral Energy. The moral energy of nations, lke that of individuals, is only sustained by an ideal higher and stronger than they are, to which they cling firmly when they feel their courage growing weak.—Henrl Bergson 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 noie this country down.” Yes- | ed gold was in peril, and Cyrus Mer- rill knew it not. A well-dressed, dig- nified stranger came into the bank, and after looking over some papers at the depositors’ table approached the president of the institution. “Mr. Merrill,” he said courteously, “I am having some important dealings with the valley manufacturers. I have just come from your rival bank here: They wish to charge me five per cent for a trusteeship and some easy ne- gotiations. Can I do business for you on a cheaper basis?” “Yes, sir,” answered the banker, ea- ger to snap up an easy opportunity, “if the business is entirely local—" “It will be.” “Qur charge will be two and a half per cent.” “Thanks. You will hear from me in a day or two,” said the stranger, who called himself Richard Wolfe, and he left the bank. A few minutes later a neatly dressed young lady entered the bank. She approached Mr. Merrill. “I came in to direct a letter,” she explained, “and 1 found this on the desk where 1 was writing.” | She handed a long pocketbook to the | banker. In vast surprise he examined its contents. It contained $4,000 in bank notes of large denominations. On its flap were the initials “R. W.,” and Mr. Merrill at once decided that it be- longed to his recent visitor. “l am pleased at your honesty, young lady,” he said heartily—for him. | | “I think you had better leave your, name and address, for 1 am sure that | the owner of the money will wish to recognize your helpfulness.” | Within ten minutes the man who! called himself Richard Wolfe came hurrying back into the bank. Ah! his money had been found. Thanks, and ; the finder? At once send her this— | and he liberally handed the banker, two hundred-dollar bills. Then he| stated that he had decided to do busi- | ness with the bank. He counted out five thousand dollars. It was to be. held in trust to purchase some bonds, | which he named. He would at once | write to the owner of the same and' | have him come from another town,! where he lived. He authorized Mr. Merrill to pay as high as ninety. If | ! he got them for less, they would di-| vide on the bargain. The liberality of the stranger, the | | sight of the ready cash, the chance | to make “an honest dollar"—all ap- | pealed to the banker in a strange way. l What followed came quickly. Another | stranger appeared at the bank within | two days with the bonds in question and received the money for them, and next Richard Wolfe again appeared. In an excited, confidential way he in-| | formed the banker that he had learned that the bonds would go up twenty points the following week. He knew ! where he could buy another block of them. They would divide on the profits, as before. Result: He bor- | rowed four thousand dollars on the securities, and in a week Cyrus Mer- rill knew that he was a swindled man. | Only Alton knew of the transaction. . He realized his uncle’s humiliation and ' chagrin, when the latter recklessly an- nounced that he would give half the four thousand dollars to get the money back from “the first man who had ever put it over on him.” + For two days Alton was absent. He returned to place in the hands of his astonished uncle two thousand dollars. “The balance you promised as & reward, you know,” he submitted. “But how—" “I took a picture of that Wolfe fel- low the first day he came into the bank,” explained Alton. “I found Its duplicate in the rogues’ gallery in the city. They rounded up your man—a notorious criminal.” “Yes,” sald Mr. Merrill, “you can keep that money, and you can stay in the bank. But if you ever hint pub- licly at the noodle I've been, I'll dis- own you on the spot.” “I shall tell only Winifred!” whis- pered the happy young man raptly to himself. Learn to Help Yourself. 1 fear that a great majority of peo- ple, at least in a great majority of cases, simply sit down when they run up against a blind wall, writes Arthur M. Judy in the Atlantic. If they can call the plumber, or the butcher, or the gardener, or the laundress, or the shoemaker, or the blacksmith, or the dairyman, or the horse-tamer—then a way out will be made for them. And that is what your city life tends to do for your boys and girls—set them to calling upon an endless va- riety of specialists to help them sur- mount life's problems. On the other hand, farmer boys and girls must learn to be all these specialists. The consequence is, they grow up with the feeling that they can and must do it, no matter what befalls; and that feel- ing, or I greatly miss my count, is the secret of the power of initiative. Sporting Proposition. | A teacher in one of Philadelphia’s public schools made arrangements last summer to take a couple of her boy pupils each week to the large farm of a relative in Chester county. ! The boys were required to get up at an early hour and help with the light- er duties about the farm On the first Sunday in September Danny Mullen, age eleven, arrived at fhe farm. On Monday morning be- fore daybreak he was awakened by one of the farmhands. “What's the idea of gettin’ up in the middle of the night?” said Danny. “Hurry up!” said the other. “I'll show you how to milk cows.” Danny sat up with a puzzled ex- pression on his face gazed thought- fully out into the darkness, then asked. “Do you nhave to smeak up on them?” Sawed-Off Sermon. ‘When a young widow takes a young man into her confidence, he is up against the worst kind of a confidence game.—Indianapolis News. Tommy's Costly Vietory. 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 mpc.' and Tommy woe" | confident, I can get contracts to sup- | Don’t you see it, mother?” | to love Polly Dayton, and a romance | they called her Primrose. 3 = (Copyright, 1915, by the McClure Newspa- per Syndicate.) [0X “I have an idea for making a little money, mother,” said Polly Dayton, drawing her chair close to her moth- er's in the bright living room. “And remain at home, dear?”| queried Mrs. Dayton, anxiously. She | had not yet adjusted herself to the | modern scheme of society which per- mits its daughters and wives to soi forth from home in order to be eco- | nomically independent. Polly nodded definitely. “Very much I at home, mother mine. Let me tell you about it: First, you know | there is a large and flourishing or- | ganization in the city which has for | its colors primrose and purple; there \ is another equally flourishing organ- | , ization of women which has for its color, yellow. Now, these clubs will, | this year, have many and varied so- cial and public functions, at all of which they will use their club colors in flowers, if possible. I know wom- | en in both sets through whom, I am | ply all the purple and primrose and | yellow flowers that are to be used. 1 think we can market all we can raise of the flowers that exactly carry out the color scheme of the clubs. “Oh, 1 do—1 do see it, dear daugh- ter. It is a wonderful conception, and 1 believe you and I together, with the help of good old Joe Fisher, whose very hands seem to caress the flowers he plants, can make it a success.” Polly made practical and definite plans for her business venture, and as spring approached she and her mother and the old day gardener who had worked with them for years, cul- tivated every available spot in the grounds. They made room among the rocks for rich earth and took out stones here and there along the top to permit of growing the flowers. Thus it was not long before flowers were | coming up everywhere, and every bloom was to be primrose, purple or | yellow. The organizations which Polly ap* proached with her plans were more than glad to know of a place where they could obtain their own sorts of flowers and have them shipped in good shape. By summer the wall of primroses about the Dayton home was exquisite to behold, and Polly and her mother rejoiced in the fact that neighbors brought their friends to see it. They watched aut.mobilists stop to admire it, and felt proud of their work. One day when Polly, in her great rose-covered hat and simple summer | frock, was standing outside of the | wall cutting blooms, an automobile | stopped before the wall. | Polly did not look up, but she could | hear that there was conversation be- | tween a man and & woman about lhe‘ flowers. | Finally a young man approached her. “I beg your pardon,” he said, | his motor cap in his hand. “Mother cannot longer resist the temptation to ask you if you will let her have a | few of your beautiful primroses.” “Why—of course,” Polly sald, ! quickly. She looked out toward the auto and smiled at the woman who sat therein, “Mother was prevented this year from going to her home in the South | of England on account of the war. Always homesick for her own land— the very country, by the way, where ‘The Rosary’ was written—the con- stant sight of your primrose wall as " we pass each day has made her more 80. She thinks 1f she might have a few of the flowers it would—well, it would help some,” laughed the young man, somewhat embarrassed by the | fact that he was asking a favor from a strange—and very lovely—young woman, “Do let me speak to your mother,” said Polly, quickly, running over to the car, scissors in hand. She stood for a long time talking to Mrs. Noble and her son George. And when the elderly woman left, her hands were full of Polly’s prim- roses end she had premised to re- turn whenever her bowl at home was empty. Twice a week Mrs. Noble came to Polly Dayton's garden for primroses. Polly would not tzake money, for she deemed it a pleasure to give them to anyone who loved the flowers so dearly. “And it was from your own Devonshire country that 1 got my in- spiration to begin this venture,” Polly told her one day when the four— Mrs. Noble, her son, Polly and her mother—sat at a rustic table under | a wisteria arbor in the Dayton gar- den sipping cool glasses of tea. | “What a success it is! 1 can hardly believe it and—to add to that,” Polly | looked affectionately at her mother | as she continued, “my dear little | mother, here, has grown pink- | cheeked and strong working out of | doors and handling the beautiful | blossoms for market. Also,” here she laughed merrily, “she has learned | that a girl can earn money and still ‘ be a normal, womanly person! Eh, | mother?” she asked. | Through these little meetingd | George Noble learned to know and as sweet as any of the flowers that bloomed in the garden in which it was set grew out of their love. More than two years afterward when a little daughter strayed into the path of Polly and George Noble Or He Believes So. Every bachelor is a hero to some | married woman —Smart Set Truth and Duty. Truth waits on duty. If we do not live up to what we already know, of what use to give us more truth? “Hvery duty we omit,” says Ruskin, “obscures some truth we might have known.” This is just, and we can-' not resent it. To do the duty that lles next us 1s the only way to take a step toward larger vision. SPECIAL SALE ON FLOUR While the prcsent Stock lasts we will name the following prices for SPOT CASH. 12 Ib. Ideal Plain Flour - 24 1b. ldeal Plain Llour - WE NEED THE MONEY 45c¢ 90c 98 Ib. Ideal Piain Flour - $3.50 98 Ib. elt-Rising Flour - 4.00 About 100 Barrels at these prices. Get your supply at once. Other Goods at a Bargéin E. 6. TWLIDELL FHONE 5¢ howitzers and which to hurl PHONE 76 Fortunately This Country Is Not At War with any country equipped with shells bombs on our homes, towns and cities to their utter You Need Not Hesitate To Build And Build at Once Lakeland Manufacturing Company e il "y with drop ships and air destruction. LAKELAND, FLA. A SAFETY DEPOSIT BOX IS A NECESSITY AND A CON- VENIENCE. PAPERS AND JEWELRY; YOU ARE; IT IS R SAFE PLACE TO PUT YOUR VALUABLE ALWAYS KNOW WHERE THEY YOU CAN ALWAYS! GET THEM WHEN YOU WANT THEM. THIS RELIEVES YOU OF WORRY AND YOU ARE FREE FROM DANGER; OF FIRE, OR BURGLARS, OR OF LOSING THEM. BE A CAREFUL MAN AND COME IN TODAY AND RENT ONE OF OUR SAFETY DEPOSIT BOXES. BANK WITH US. \WE PAY 5 PER CENT INTEREST ON TIME DEPOSITS. American State Bink BE AN AMERICAN, ONE OF US.” Romance to Reality. Girls are such sentimental creatures that it gives romance a rude jolt when the honeymoon is over and they see Algernon in his shirt sleeves. chop- ping up kirdling wned cut in the back yard.—Florida Times Unfon. Sent for Investigation. Some men are so curious to know things that it would not be surprising to find them pondering over the ques- tion >f what becoines of the part of the stocking where the hole has come. ——B.mwmy_g‘s Mgagarine