The Seattle Star Newspaper, January 5, 1922, Page 11

® ' R e “For “gos ae ot 1 From Page © dtm unnamed lakes glinting pale blue | 10 Stederstand this strong |in the afternodn mun, whole valleys . oi fit to give her his| where the foot of white man had 2 i knew that he spoke | never trod, She felt somewhat awed, woareely knowing why. Rivers gleamed, marshes lay yellow and somber in the sun, the dark for cata stretched until the eyes ured; i v but nowhere were there any homes, any villages Or pastures, not a biaxe ret the decrees of the for Ripon a tree, wot the smoke of @ fone) ber BO human being shall | canip fire, Hrudieyburg was already — PR ar thru the spruce | obliterated and lost in the depthe of te Solkirke and fall to/ the woodland. The silence was in i Te » Brome alight degree of | credibio—as vast and infinite us the at s sowledge. Both Vir | wiiderness itself, It startled her ck ansbury had been on /littie, when they paused in their et ¥ \ secret law that only now he would be as y * promise as if he bad . a — 14 @re. Virginia had rid-| climb, to hear the pronounced tick ‘ks of her native city: | of her wrist watch, even the whisper , far away a barefoot, | of ner own breath. It was as if she uch to be preferred to) had gone to an enchanted land, 4 a petulant man whe HOW | pince that lay in a great sleep that “Jeo forget those humble | began in the world’s young days, and » be ‘Rtrede an old plow horse |from which to the Inat reaches of uf Cee ance nen arine | time It could never waken. 4 Tie Peay Roepe Bill, standing Just above her, potnt aD them. Nor wan *? (© & dash of golden across the ape. he: before OF WSS canyon. “That's quivering asp,” he “Tr a Seneral oF Par! told her, “turned by the frost. It Seems good to nee a bit of color in | this world of dark woods, It's ju like a flash of sunshine in a storm She listened with some surprise The same detail had heid her gar the same thought—almest the sam simile—had come into her mind; but she bad hardly expected to find love of the beautiful in this broneed forester, In fact, she found that a number of her preconceived kieas were being turned topay-turvy Heretofore, tt seemed to her, her thought had always dwelt on the superficialities rather than the reali ties of life, “yp way, leaving thetr great “We the dying gram They ght eantest pathway over 72 BM was enough of a » follow where they led. Clearwater was «im- & general direction. Al \. the evergreen thickets ) them. rend that eafety depend : fine watchfulness, The ‘wanches struck crus! facn, the spruce needies Tot het A fo Oa it to whip back with | sider the question of foot and shel. evi she had to watch her|ter. She had known social succes, passages be-liove of beauty and of art, gayety the vines/and luxury; she had had petty dix shanging limbs of the! and fears, but of the simple and ee on, Mapaamabtc bar} primitive basis of things she took no than once she was\ cognizance. She had never dealt . ysed from the aaddie.| with essentials. They had always acame to the first fallen | seemed outside her life. 4 Virginia had never lived ae horea, took {fi shad@w of Fear—-that greatest and ._ man turned to watch | most potent of realities. In truth ‘oF horse stepped ginger-| she didn’t know the meaning of the %. without trouble. Then | word She had been afraid in her ‘he fit to gtve ber a little bed at night, she had been appre. p hensive of a block alk tn the tw the ride just be | tight, but Fear—in ite true senso— said.) was an alien and @ stranger. She whole/had never met him in the waste “em | places, seen bim skulking of her } tradi thru the winter mnows, listened to his voice tn the wind’s wall. She didn't know the fear of which the | coyotes ming from the hill, the blind jand groping dread of an immutable | destiny. the ghastly realization of im potence against a ernel and omnip Otent fate. She hadn't ever learned about tt Living a protected lif Giant know that it existed. Food shelter and warmth and safety seemed hers by birth house marched the law her evildoers; she lived tn aight of t hoepitals that would open their to the sick and injured and haritable institutions that would clothe and feed the needy: thus the world had kept Its bitter truth» from | her. But she was beginning to learn if | them now, She was having her first only }gtimpee of; life, life stripped of all them | delusion, stark and naked, the re- lentiens reality that it was, Fear was no stranger to these for- ents. Its presence in every turn of the trail, filled her with awe A single minstep, a little instant of hesitation in a crisis, might precipl- tate her @ thousand feet down the canyon to her death. Dead trees swayed, threatening to fall; snow stides roared and rumbled on the far steepa; the quagmire sucked wit greedy lps, the trail wandered dimly jas if it were trying to decoy her away Into the fastnesses where the Bever an auspicious beginning. A/| wilderness might claim her. No one 1 rider means a nervy €x-|had to tell her how easy it would enimal—and nervousness and be to lose the trail, never to find it jt are unhealthy qualities in|again. The foreste were endieas: Neither put trust in| there were none to hear a wanderer’s Lounsbury’s cruel.| cry for help. Wet matches, an acct- ith the long bridle|dent to the food supplies, a few only made matters worse. The | nights without shelter in the dismal leaped and plunged, slipped | forest—any of these might spell corm on the hills, progredsed awk-!plete and irrevocable disaster. over the fallen logs, and flew|/ What had she known of Death? It aAto wild panic when he came to the | was a thing to claim old people. "eserves. The man’s temper fell| sometimes to take even her young below the danger point in the friends from their games among the E og and he was savage and/fiowers, but never had it been an te before half of the after-| gon's ride was done acquaintance of hers. It wan as wholly apart from her as the beings JThe thickets were mercfiess. They | of another planet. But here she had ’ him, thone silent evergreens: | come to the home of Death—cold and Pay gave no welcome to his breed: | fearful obliteration dwelling in every #4 It weemed to him they found althicket. She found herself wonder tedred ways to plague him. Their)ing About it, now,*and dreading it ‘dies scratched his face, their| with a new dread that she had never inches whipped into his eyes, the | dreamed of before. The only real be dealt crue! blows at his side|emotions she had ever known were h the tree trunks wrenched at his| her love for Harold Lounsbury and ya. Worre still, they soon came|her grief at his absence: in these ? pM that Bill advised they take | auturnn woods she might easily learn oot. all the others, She had never known jot me,” Lounsbury shrilled. “Tl | true loneliness: here, except for her af I won't walk any hills. You've | fiance’s uncle with whom she had vided @ vicious horse for me, and| never felt on common ground, and oing to ride him up if it killa|two paid employes—the latter, she I didn’t come out here to break | told herself, did not count—she was ny wind on mountains—and thin as much alone as if she had been cooree needs the devi) taken out of | cast upon an uninhabi sphere. Al cim, anyway.” ready she knew something of the 1 It was in Virginia's mind that none| great malevolence that is the eternal {4 the emphatic but genial oaths! tone of the wilderness, the lurking pat Bil had ist slip from time to| peril that is the North, @me grated on ber half so much as| This new view influenced her at > his frenzied complaint of her com-|titude toward Bill, At first she had ion, but she kept her thoughts to| felt no interest in him whatever. Of jorseif. But Bill turned with some-|a clasn that does not enter jnto a toms dangerously like a smile. basia of equality with persorial em- SSult yourself, of course,” he re | ployes, to her he had seemed in the Med. “I'm not asking you to walk category with new house ip to spare your horse, Only, from | servant or chauffeur, He had been ime to time a horse makes a minet hire to do her service; he was either a thig hill—just one little slip-and a bad servant or a good one, and ‘pina down in backward eomersets| from her he would receive kindness thousand feet. If you want to try|and patronage, but never real feel- +t of course it's all right with me.”|ing or friendship, never more than (He swung off hia horse, took the|an impersonal interest. But now iridie reins of beth tis own animal |that she knew something of the real ing Virginia's, and started the long | nature of this expedition, affairs had ‘ib. And ft was to be noticed that | taken a new turn. She suddenly 4 &he first steep pitch Lounsbury realized that her whole happiness, ot that be was tired of riding and| her comfort, perhaps even life itself after meekly, but with | depended upon him. He wae not bed epirit. only thetr guide, He wna their pro- ‘They stopped often to reet; and| tector, thelr source of supplies, thetr from the heights Virginia got her|refuge and their strength as well. first real glimpse of Clearwater. Her | first impression was simply vast and i it ‘i H Hl the to hing thickets; yet that first was a grim initiation to the 4 Lounsbury was having even re difficult time. He was afraid \; horse, to start with—and this Sle YOhe other, and same a sf was willing to enter upon a basin of unmeasured amazement at the di- comradeship with him—yet. But whe mensions of the land. As far ae she | did find a singular satiefaction in th: could see lay valley after valley,| mere fact of his presence. Here was one who could build a fire in the range upon range, great forests of | snow if need be, whose strong arms spruce alternating with open giades, Her @ncome was pith | Sometimes the horse | fully small according to her stand: | Md bend down a young ards, yet she had never had to con-| a caught at her. Some-| couragements and triumphs, worries | ‘The change did not mean that she! OUR BOARDING HOUSE Y WE GIRS WL WE TON DO SOMETHING "TO KEEP THE ; BOYS AT HOME EVENINGS ! 1 THINK (T WOULD BE JOLLY | FUN TO GIVE A PARTY AND HAVE. GAMES * AND THOSE THAT WANT "TD, CAN DANCE » ME SCHOTNSCHE, WALTZ | BY STANLEY BE GLORIOUS! Ever AND I Witt RECITE}( © Be ZA BLACK CAT SCARED DAN GLEASONS SNOW PLOW TEAM LATE LAST NIGHT: xz -_— S— —— 2 ae ‘Promonne A JOLLIRCATION = Gitlhd le kaa PILE LOPGP IE | “ | could cut fuel, whe could manage | the horses and bring them safe to| | the Journey's end. His rifle swung | in Dis maddie soabbard, hia pistol belt Joncdzeled his waist; he knew how to adjust the packs, to peg the tent faq in a storm, to find bread and }meat in the wilderness, She began to nétice his lithe, strong figure ax he mat in hin maddie, the ease with he gontroiied his horse and avoided the'pitfails in the trail, When the moore tracks were téo dim for her eyes to ser, he followed them) with ease, When horses bolted from some unfamiliar smell in the thicket, he was quick to round them up, The animals were swift in obe dience when he spoke to them, but they were only terrified by Louns bury’a shrill shouts. He was cool of Herve, welf-pomsonsed, wholly self-re- Mant She livtened with am eager gladness to hin soft whistling: atmple classica that ahe herself loved but which came strangely from the lips of this son of the forest were bright and manic rt—in spite of the dark menace of theese northern woodlands He waa not afraid: rather he seemed to be getting a keen enjoyment out of the afternoon's rida And the great truth suddenly came to hert that in his strength lay hers, that she bal entrusted her welfare to him and for the present, at least, ft was secure. And she put her own cares away. She would net have e@mftted that she had simpty followed the example | of the uncounted milliona of women that had preceded her thru the long reaches of the centuries and had found strength and peace tn the shelter of a strong man's arma. She only knew that her mind ne longer @welt on danger, but it had marvel ously opened to recetvs the image jot the grim but tneffable beauty of thie wild land thru which she rode. She felt secure, and she bewan to have an, Intangible but ever increas ing delight in the wonderland about 11&18D TO. BUT IT LOOKS AS THOUGH ‘You WOULD FORCE ME TO BREAK IT + WELL. FLL Tet You IF IT WONT BE BREAKING IT ~— 1 RESOWED THAT | WOULD NOT ASK You FOR ANY HOUSE MUNBY ONCE OURING THE YEAR AND THE RESULT IS, 1 BROKE TOM. | MADE A NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTION Alt TO MYSPLP BUT I'm APRAID fii HAVE TO BREAK IT J sore, WOAD BE MY FAULT NU MATTER WHAT TT WAS- WELL WHAT WAS AYouR KESOLUTION Y iF IT'S A GOOD Ont DON’T - USE A UTTLE WhL POWER | V1 Mr, OP MA FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS Always Room for Cake (Contineed Tomorrow — ata és DVENTURES SENE. TWINS ‘ar Grattle + or sie By Mabel Cleland _« Page 565 ONE MORE CHRISTMAS STORY and said simply: “1 got this.” “This” was a soft @oth dolhwith real buttoned-on clothes, and socks which turned down at the that unless other children like Pegy’s and a “early-day" grandmothers, those! painted face so real that it looked Pegry often and often wonders if the mother of any other little girl ban such very interosting friends as motherdear. | She and David knew, of course, have | top own, older friends can't be #o interest. | aimost ready to speak ; | ing. “I know exactly how you Jove Just imagine, if you pleare,| that doll, Peggy,” the caller said, wrtrouTr STRAINING YovR Exscs Fy “because when I was about as bigd as you, I had a big Christmas doll, too, only I thought I didn’t have,” and she laughed as she sat down hearing the stories of that mis hevioun early.day brother the very same little girl who ate the skunk cabbage and clung teht | to the upside-down buggy and| “I want you to see the balloon nursery. It’s here in the woods.” | from | Buskins pulled on the retn of the; frult-balloons, if you please, of all |ereen paper siephant he had been | colors and sizes, yen, and shaper, and drew Peggy into her lap. | riding and Came to a stop. Nancy too, for where in the old days rubber |! picked blackberries where now| “It's @ story—want to hear Jand Nick, coming up behind him, | balloons were all of a shape and re there are only stores and things, and then haw pavements and | F stopped too and slid off, Reddy Bounce and Blue Jumper, round as moons, nowadays it's noth. ing at ali for a balloon to look ex The caller dooked very young, the fat Jolly rubber balloons, arriv: actly tke @ large watermelon or a |] if the very noxt one who came | indeed to, be telling pioneer ing Just then, took charge of squish, or « string of saugnges, and || —another grown-up Uttle pioneer | POs And It sounded ag if it Nancy's pink pig and Nick's biue|one I know of, my desra’ tod r M might be a girl story, but: David ’ a ears girl! ‘ sat down near and listened to her | poodie, like @ rabbit. Every kind of balloon |} © « ” | “Now,” anid Buskina, straighten | was growing here Wert, well, well,” she said, | as she began. jing his head-kerchief and pulling UP) yt the noise! All baubles were || WHR she saw the kiddies, “Here | “It was Christmas eve, and in | his high boots, whieh had tecome Un: | crying are two poor little children who | Seattle all the little folks were as | settied In riding, “I want you to see, Pm * | excited as could be over the the balloon nursery. It's here in|, “It makes them grow,” sid Bus |} didn't get a single thing fOr) Ciristmas tree at the churches, kins. “All the balloon people grow Christmas There was the Brown church on Second and Madison and the Catholic church on Third and Washington, and our chureh (the these woods.” | The Twins were afl curionity by | thin time, for the Cand of Lost Ral- | |loons was about the queerest place David grinned and said, “T rot some skates and two books and a knife with two biades and——" Perey’ dimples made dear lit: here,” he went on, waving a hand “And the babies are the squawkers “They make such a noine folk |they had ever been in and won. can’t sand ‘em in the city. Some f Methodist church) on the corner o stmas ft e lderm were not to cease, to judge, times they nH so hard they fall off pm ps ie amy vd me ee of Third and Battery.” from the noise that was coming from the trees, than they can't grow any / a4 ‘0 Be Continu |the woods where Buskins was lead.|™more and they are sent to mortal | her own Pemsy-smite at the caller, (1 ed) ling thom, a forest of great rubber children (o play with, Bat 1 Under: | \————f 998 Teed : wtand that mortal parents aren't) ne | Was @ special shelter for Mademol- | agreed that he was not to get spoony. |trees like the pictures in the geog- | raphy books. | When we returned to town, I woukl fond of their noises eithert* |Selle Elsa, the animal trainer, motherdear was not going with me. finally been located by phone and But these rubber trees were differ. (To Be Continued) 1 explained that my grandmother | would come on the next morning. A| Her leopards created a great sen- | sive him my decision, ent because they bore such queer! (Copyright, 1922, by Seattle Star) |was ill and Cissy laughed because | phone wire had been strung tn the | gation with the movie crowd, Made-| MoMasters was to come up the Lee ARNE + SAPS IOCNS epee anne {tthe dear old Indy was the only par-|forest by McMaster’s order, He was Moiselle Klsa took them, one at a| second day of the camp. Apropos of | gon in the world who agreed with |to be with us He had an unusual time, on leash for exercise. “ui she | his arrival, a bit of gossip circulated | e ° him that my Movie career was a mis | intere#t in “Love Lorn.” He might | Wa careful to get them back into | in the log cabin where the girls were Cc f f M | take. have written ft, 80 jealous was|their cage before dusk. ‘The moon | quartered. It was started by one of onressions OF a ovie tar Cissy did not approve of the tn-|he of it was full, the cats were made rest-|the seamstresses, Mrs. Beatty. She | was often at McMasters’ shore farm. Sho hinted that a recent domestic unpleasantness had sent McMasters on vacation with the company. (To Be Continued) Dressmaking, Millinery Scheel, Pike and Broadway.—Advertise- ment, less by the smell of the woods, said Elsa, Camp life pleased me immensely. Most of the girls were quartered in| an ancient log cabin, built years be-| Some similar influence made the’ fore for hunters. It had been con-| whole company restless, or silly, Our verted into a neat dormitory. I did|next play was to be “Love in Idle- |not want to hear the girls chatter |ness.” I told Mra, Nandy that De- and 1 did not want to sleep under | maison ought to shoot it right then canvas, Mrs. Nandy was delighted |and there. I'd never beheld so much A week later, we were all ip camp, |to share my experience, idle love-making In any film play as axcopt one of the “prop” autos which| Qur tent was at the end of the|was openly staged in that camp, distressed because had lost its way en route, It had|“company street.” Across from us| Cissy was chivalry itself, We had (Copyriht, 1921, Beattie star) formality of camp life for me even with Mrs, Nandy among those pros- t. And then there were the leop: ards. They would be doped, he snid. They alwayn were for the cameras. He didn’t expect me to be «slain. Nevertheless, he regretted that motherdear was not going along. CHAPTER LV—WE GO TO THE NORTH woop$ Clery wan not permitted to be sen-| last town on the mountain road. timental that evening. We talked| We would go into camp near the! |shop. We were to go to the North. | top of the mountain. We would live | ern woods the following week, De|in tents for a week. The company mainon was going to work the ex-| was going on « vacation as well as | tertors for “Lave Lorn.” Cissy would | on location. | motor up and leave bis car at the Cissy was “Daddy, Boldt'e Large Leaves Bread now 10 cents."—Advertisement, an ne ps rremrrastatt sora reer aire ae