NO SLEEPING BAG FOR THEM
Laplanders Preferred the Snow and
the Open Air, and So Had a
Comfortable Night.
Sir Henry Lucy tells In the Corn
hill Magazine a good story that he
had from Nansen, the explorer. It
amusingly illustrates the hardy health
of the Laplanders.
Part of Nansen’s equipment for his
trip across Greenland consisted of two
sleeping-bags made of undressed
skins. On the first night of the jour
ney Nansen and his two Norwegian
companions got into one of the bags,
pulled the mouth tight across their
necks, and so slept in the snow with
only their heads out.
Before retiring for rest, Nansen saw
the three Laplanders he had engaged
for the expedition cozily tucked Into
the other sleeping-bag. When he
awoke in the morning, almost numb
with cold, he observed that the bag
In which he had tied up the Lapland
ers was empty, and that they were no
where in sight. He was afraid they
had deserted him, and scrambling
out of the bag, went in search of
them. He found the three men fast
asleep behind a hillock of snow that
they had scraped together as a pro
tection against the wind.
“Ah, master,” they said, when ask
ed to explain this extraordinary con
duct, "we couldn't sleep in that thing.
It was too hot, so we got out and
have had a comfortable night here.”
DREW THE LINE.
I
Mrs. Wood B. Swelle—Do you care
for pate de foie gras?
Old Man Newriche—No, ma’am, I
draw the line on grass. Baled-hay
breakfast foods are my limit!
Truth About Old Age.
George F. Baer, the famous Phila
delphia railroad man, said on hiB
seventieth birthday:
“I agree with Professor Metchnikoff
about the wisdom of the old. Profes
sor Osier made it fashionable to de
cry gray hairs, but my experience has
been that the old not only possess
wisdom, but they seek it also.”
With a smile Mr. Baer added:
“The only people who think they
are too old to learn are those who
really are too young.”
English Stump Speech.
A correspondent, “Old. Briney,”
sends us the following specimen of
frenzied stump oratory: “Feller
blokes! Thanks ter th’ guv’ment, yer
got yer d’minishin’ wage, and yer lit
tle loaf, an’ all that. Wotcher got
ter do now is ter go fer devil-ootion
and local anatomy, an’ go it blind!”
(Loud cheers.)—London Globe.
At 2 A. M.
Mrs. Klatter—What is it a sign
of when a man stumbles going up
stairs?
1 Mrs. Klubmann—I know very well
what it's a sign of when my husband
does it.
If a newly wedded man has no se
crets from his wife It is rather hard
on the other women he might have
married, but didn’t.
Political arguments lose us more
friends than they gain votes.
SYNOPSIS.
In the time of Queen Anne. Lady Prue
denee Brook, widowed at 16 and still a
widow at two and twenty, while journey
ing In a coach to London with her cousin
Peggy, is accosted by a highwayman who,
however, takes nothing from her except a
kins.
The two girls live with their grand
mother, Lady Drumloch, who, despite her
reduced circumstances, maintains a gay
social position in the court circle.
Prue Is small, gay, delightful, daring,
extravagant, and always In debt.
CHAPTER VIH—(Continued.)
Sir Geoffrey made no further pro
test, but considering that the benefit
to himself was so undenia
ble, gave in gracefully, and pledged
himself to his lady’s service with
many courtly vows. Indeed, the tempt
ing prospect of Prue, divested of her
debts and free In three days to bestow
herself upon him, rose before him In
such glowing colors, that even Lord
Beachombe’s wager was cast Into the
shade, and only served to add luster
to the vision of his fickle and In
consequent mistress, reduced to sweet
reasonableness and proper wifely sub
mission by the judicious use of her
discreditable secret.
He, therefore, took his leave, hav
ing to content himself for the nonce
with the tips of Prue’s fingers to kiss,
and leaving the cousins to the delight
ful occupation of turning over their
recovered wardrobes, and devising the
means of malting a resplendent ap
pearance at court with their present
possessions and the thrifty outlay of
Lady Drumloch’s 60 guineas.
CHAPTER IX.
THE WEDDING.
"My mind misgives me,” said Mar
garet, when the two girls were at
their toilet the next morning. " 'Tis
not too late, Prue, for reflection, and if
ill betide thee, dear, I shall feel as if
I had brought it on thee.”
Prue turned from her mirror with
a petulant gesture. "Tell me, Peggie,
truly,” she said, with an air of deep
concern, "do you not think the hair
dresser has trussed my hair too high
on top? Would not a curl or two more
on the neck be an improvement?
Prithee, unpin this lock and ’ let it
fall intelligently behind my ear. Ah,
that’s better.” She turned back to the
mirror, and regarded her reflection
critically. "Am I too pale, Peggie? Do
you think a touch of rouge—the least
touch—would be becoming?”
“For the wedding, do you mean?
Faith, I always thought a pale, pensive
bride more interesting. Not that you
are either. A shade more color would
spoil you. I think you are even a little
flushed.”
"You are pale, Peggie,” said Prue,
looking fixedly at her. "What’s the
matter?”
“Oh, I dreamed all night of troubled
water, Prue. You know that’s ill luck.
’Tis not too late to give up this foolish
marriage—■”
"Foolish marriage! Why, Peggie, ’tis
the first wise one I have ever contem
plated. And as for a dream, why I
dreamed three times running of a
black cat, and if anything bodes good
luck that does."
“But suppose after all the object of
the marriage should fail?" urged Mar
garet.
"Fail! How can it fail?” cried
Prue pettishly. “Besides, you know the
motto of the Wynnes: ‘Cowards fayle.
I winne.’ Well, I have failed often
enough, yet not from cowardice, God
wot! And still I am always hoping
to win, I scarce know what.”
“Your new motto will suit you Just
as well,” said Peggie, ” 'Nil timeo.’ ”
“Ha ha, the motto of the De Cliffes.
Was ever such audacity as this Rob
in’s? I’ve a mind to ask him, when
the deed is done, if he has any direc
tions to give about his hatchment, or
if I shall refer the matter to the head
of the house.”
yjll, rruc, cue yuu uiicny uctu ucbb ;
I declare, since I have seen the poor
young man I am sorry for him and I
wish I had not helped to turn his ex
ecution into a Jest.”
"Would you have me weep?” said
Prue, almost sternly. “There is always
time enough for that when there is
nothing else to be done. Ah, I hear
Sir Geoffrey’s voice. You are dressed,
Peggie, prithee go down to him and
bring me word whether he has done
his part and is ready—and willing—to
give away the bride.”
She turned for a last look in the
mirror as Peggie hurried away, and
the half-scornful smile with which
she surveyed her own charming reflec
tion had none of the levity with which
she had so easily deceived her cousin.
Yet it certainly was not a picture to
provoke disdain. Never had the wil
ful beauty looked to greater advan
tage. The restless brilliancy of her
sparkling eyes, the changeful color
that flushed and paled her cheek with
each quick-drawn breath, the name
less but irresistible charm that ani
mated every feature, might have ex
cused a more complacent glance. But
Prue, though by no means prone to
deal severely with herself, was a good
deal more ashamed of her scheme than
she would have cared to own, even
to herself, and perhaps secretly longed
for some Insurmountable obstacle to
stop her in spite of herself.
She was determined, however, that
■he would not be the one to raise a
difficulty. She was so unspeakably
mortified by the new light yesterday’s
events had thrown on Sir Goelfrey’s
wooing that the idea of placing a bar
rier between herself and him. gave her
keen satisfaction. That the possibility
of her inheriting a fortune from her
grandmother should have influenced
his pursuit of her ever so slightly,
wounded her vanity, that nerve-cen
ter of her being; and that he should
have lent his countenance and help to
a scheme that would give her, even
nominally, to another man, no matter
how brief or indefinite the tenure,
dealt it an almost mortal blow.
"He has yet a chance," she mur
mured. “He may have found on
reflection that he can not bring
himself to sacrifice me for the sake
of a couple of thousand pounds’ worth
of debts, and he may implore me to
refrain for his sake. I might not be
persuaded—one can never answer for
oneself—but he would come out of it
without dishonor." She mechanically
smoothed a ribbon here and adjusted
a flounce there and, half turning, tried
to obtain a full view of her back in a
glass two feet square. ’’’Tis provok
ing to be obliged to dress by guess
work,” she commented. "If I were to
marry old Aarons I could have three
or four tire-women and a dressing
room with the walls all covered with
mirrors, so that I could see every side
of myself at once. Pahl what Is com
ing over we that I could even think
of such a creature? What with mar
rying criminals and receiving offers
from usurers the Viscountess Brooke
must be coming to a pretty pass."
With which she made a deep curtsey
to as much as she could see of the Vis
countess Brooke in the little looking
glass, and running out of the room
met Miss Moffat coming up stairs.
"Hasten, Prue,” she whispered
breathlessly. "All Is arranged. Sir
Geoffrey has the ring and license In
his pocket and a parson In the car
riage. If the bride Is ready—” She
had entirely recovered from her brief
spasm of reluctance and was as merry
as a child and as reckless of conse
quences.
"The bride Is quite ready,” cried
Prue. “Nothing la lacking except—”
“Except what?" Inquired Peggie, as
she broke oft abruptly.
"Oh! a trifle or two; nothing worth
mentioning,” laughed Prue, snatching
up her cloak and hood and running
lightly down stairs, where Sir Geof
frey awaited them, not altogether at
ease about his own part in the affair,
and palpably relieved that Prue was
In the best of sp'lrlts and Inclined to
treat the whole adventure as a frolic.
"’Tls all your own fault—and Peg
gie’s," she laughed In her sauciest
way. "If I were not the most good
natured person in the world I should
scold you both soundly and refuse to
make a fool of myself for your amuse
ment.”
"Will you change places with me
and let me take your chance?" cried
Peggie. “It can not make much dif
ference to Robin.”
"What, when I am all dressed up In
ribbons and laces for the wedding? No
difference, forsoothl What do you say
to that, Sir Geoffrey?”
”1 was just going to suggest that
you were altogether too fine a bride
for the occasion,” said Sir Geoffrey,
rather glumly. "A less resplendent
toilet would be less likely to attract
attention.”
_AS_ . 1 ...
--*•- ***'■• mvu UUUC4 UUD Uig
cloak," she replied, giving it to him.
"Do you think, you foolish man, that
I am dressed up like this to wed a
footpad? I am on my way to Marl
borough House to dine with the duch
ess, and must hasten or I shall be late
and may chance to get a box o’ the
ear for my first course.”
Robin Freemantle sat at the rough
table in his cell, writing busily. Sev
eral closely written sheets were spread
out before him, and when he finished
the last and signed his name to it he
threw the pen down and sat drumming
on the table with his fingers. It was
an idle action but by no means idly
performed, for the frown on his fore
head and the movements of his long,
sinewy hands were full of purpose,
and angry purpose, too.
Presently the frown died away and
a look of wistful sadness replaced if.
He took up the written sheets and
turned them in his fingers as though
half-disposed to tear them u» smiling
bitterly as he glanced from page to
page.
“What good will it do me," he mut
tered, “when my bones are rotting in
an unmarked grave, to bequeath a
feud to perhaps unborn generations?
Shall I fling down my mother's repu
tation for the lawyers to fight over,
like dogs over a bone, when I am not
there to protect it, and when the out
come of the struggle will Interest me
as little as it will her?”
A dim vision, more imagination than
memory, rose before him of the fair,
young mother who had faded from his
life twenty-three years ago, and be
side it another face radiant with life
and laughter, a pair of blue eyes
sparkling through curled lashes, a pair
of round, white arms gleaming in the
darkness, a scarlet mouth—every nerve
tingled at the thought that his own
had touched it, and might again. But
no! she had been merely playing with
him. How could he have been fooled
by the ruse of a spoiled beauty to feed
her own vanity and punish his auda
city? She want to marry him! It
was fantastic, absurd, and what could
be more improbable than the reason
for such a folly? She had a wager on
it, perhaps, or merely wished to amuse
herself at the expense of the daring
highwayman who had robbed her of a
kiss. Well, she had had her way. He
had shown that she had but to beckon
and he was ready to follow, and that
had doubtless ended her whim.
"She will not come!” he said, aloud,
in a tone of poignant disappointment,
that plainly showed how he clung to
the promise he feigned to discredit.
The jailer opened the door noisily.
“Visitors for the highwayman,” he
announced. “More fine ladies and
srentlemen.”
Robin sprang to his feet, looking
eagerly from one to another. What
ever his expectations were, the first
glance disappointed them. A pimply
faced. watery-eyed little man, in rusty
black, entered first, conducting Mar
garet Moffat by the hand in a ceremo
nious fashion, that had something in
it reminiscent of the time when he did
not need filling up with gin to make
him remember that he was a student
and a Doctor of Divinity. And close
behind him, followed Sir Geoffrey
Beaudesert—tall, handsome, dressed
with the sober elegance that became
the budding statesman, supporting on
his arm a lady, enveloped from head to
foot in a hooded cloak, that complete
ly concealed her.
“May I inquire—’’ Robin began.
Then his glance fell upon Mar
garet, whose air of coquettish sim
plicity would not have misbecome
my lady's confidential maid, and
recognizing her, his hopes rose
again, and he burst into a hearty
laugh. “Ha. my fair friend; have you
come to enliven my solitude once
more? What! Sir Geoffrey Beaude
sert? I can not say I anticipated the
honor of a visit from you. X fancied
you had already seen more of me
than you approved.”
i .. <?offrey flushed. “My good fel
low, he said haughtily, ”1 have no
personal enmity toward you; I merely
did my duty as a citizen in appearing
as a witness against you."
“Oh! I had forgotten that," said
Robin negligently. “I was thinking of
the time when I and my friends were
chasing you and yours, and the con
stables shot my horse—poor Firebrand,
I wonder what became of him—and
turned the tide of battle."
Sdeath, fellow!" Sir Geoffrey began
furiously, but Prue checked him with
a light touch on the arm.
“Pray, gentlemen, do not waste time
quarreling; what does it matter now
who fled and who pursued?"
At the sound of her voice, at once
gentle and imperious, the two men^
dropped their warlike air. and Robin,
who was astounded to recognize Prue
In Sir Gooffrey’s companion, seemed
petrified Into a statue of expectancy.
"If we can have a few minutes' pri
vacy—?" she suggested.
Sir Geoffrey beckoned to the Jailer,
and after a murmured conference, en
livened by the clinking of coin, the
latter consented to see that they were
uninterrupted for as long as they
wished.
While that was being arranged,
Prue apyroached Robin with a timid
air. “Master Robert de Cllffe—or Robin
Freemantle"—she said, "I thank you
for consenting to my wild scheme, and
I pray you, forgive me If It seems
heartless.”
"Madam, I deem myself fortunate, if
my death be of any use to you,” he
replied, with a ring of bitter sadness
in his tone.
Prue, greatly surprised by the voice,
which had none of the roughness of the
robber’s greeting on Bleakmoor, looked
more closely at Robin, and discovered
that he was young, handsome, and by
no means ferocious looking.
"I would not have you feel harshly
toward me,” she said. In a low, thrill
ing voice. “It Is not too late, even
now, for me to withdraw if you deem
me overbold.”
A spasm of apprehension shivered
through him. Had she brought his
dream so near realization only to
snatch It from him? Could a woman
be so crufel to a dying man? He met
her questioning look with one of
agonized supplication. "Withdraw—
now?” he muttered, unable to voles
the prayer of his eyes. "Then why
come at all—to mock me?"
But Prue was quick to read men's
hearts, and what she saw in Robin's
translated his few arupt words Into a
language that stirred hers to pity.
Therefore, to console him (the Jailer
having by this time retired), she now
threw off her wraps, and revealed such
a vision of lovllncss as fairly Illuminat
ed the dingy prison cell. His look of
delighted surprise satisfied her.
“I recognize you now, but you are
far, far more beautiful than even my
dreams of you! And have you really
made yourself so fine to gladden a
poor prisoner’s eyes?” said Robin, gaz
ing with rapture upon the graceful
figure in itB dainty garb of brocade
and lace, the lovely face, from which
eyes of the most dazzling brightness
smiled alluringly upon him; the little
hand, so tapering and dimpled stretched
out to him with a gesture, half-en
treaty and half command. As he took
it In his, she blushed a little remem
bering how he had behaved the other
time she offered It. But this time,
he bent his head and laid a courtly and
reverential salute upon It.
“We have nothing to wait for now,”
said Sir Geoffrey, impatiently observ
ing this little episode. "Parson Good
ridge, have you shown the papers to
this gentleman, to make sure they ars
correct ?”
nuum inecnanicauy iook up me pa
pers the parson had laid on the table,
and read out the names from the mar
riage license. "Robert Gregory de
Cliffe" he nodded approval and
glanced further down. "Prue, widow
of James Stuart Brooke and daughter
of Reginald Wynne and Anne Drum
loch, his wife." All the titles had been
eliminated, and there was nothing to
show that the bride was not of plebe
ian origin. Robin smiled slightly. Was
It worth while to be mysterious with
a man virtually dead? He recalled
that Peggie had made him promise to
keep his marriage with “my lady” a
secret, but It was apparent that he was
not to be trusted with more of the se
cret than was absolutely necessary.
"It Is quite correct," he Bald, laying
the paper down,
“Then let us proceed to business.
Master Goodrldge, pray do your office
quickly. Let us have no homilies on
the duties and pleasures of matri
mony,” Sir Geoffrey laughed malic
iously, "but make the ceremony brief
and binding. We will not Intrude on
your privacy,” he added, turning to
Robin, "any longer than Is necessary."
“I am ready,” said Robin curtly.
The ceremony was quickly per
formed. Robert Gregory and Prudence
duly accepted each other as man and
wife for all the vicissitudes of their
mortal life, severally vowed love hon
or and all the rest of It. pledged them
selves by giving and receiving of a
ring to Bhare each other's worldly
goods and finally received the bless
ing of the church, borne on the gin
flavored breath of Parson Goodrldge.
A short 10 minutes having sufficed to
make the Viscount Brooke's widow the
highwayman, Robin Freemantle's,
wife, the parson pocketed his dog-eared
book, also a generous fee from the
bridegroom, and took his departure.
“Do not forget to keep your own
counsel,” Sir Geoffrey warned him.
This has been a good morning's work
for you, Master Goodrldge, and there
Is better to come when your testi
mony Is wanted, if the secret be well
kept.”
"I shall keep It, never fear; I shall
keep It,” mumbled the degraded crea
ture, already drunk in anticipation of
the glorious possibilities of a pocket so
unusually well lined. "A secret Is the
only thing I have ever learned to
keep.”
And he disappeared, chuckling at his
own wit.
(Continued Next Week.)
Man’s Love and Woman's.
Harriet Anderson In the Atlantic.
To the woman feeling Is everything;
to the man, reason. The man loves
his wife as the symbol of the All, this
Impersonality which compels his alle
giance. He worships her as the high
est Idea of his life. She, on the other
hand, loves him In particular, loves his
personality, his Immediate ego. To
worship an Idea and to love imperson
ally are two abilities not native to
woman. She Is physically much more
bound to him than he to her. She be
comes his flesh, and her fidelity Is
more a natural law than a moral
question. Hts fidelity, however, Is pre
eminently a moral act, an act of his
power and will. It Is not always a
sign of moral greatness. When a man
is narrow In mind, and Insignificant
In quality, It Is no effort for him to
be faithful; but when he Is high
minded, and glowing in personality,
the effort becomes great. As he de
mands more from himself, he also de
mands more from his wife. He can
be faithful If she grows with him; he
can be faithful If she has once given
him the keys to divine nature and
changed the world for him, even
though she herself has lost signific
ance; but when she utterly blots out
divine nature for him she deprives
him of the highest to which he Is by
right entitled. For this reason, man
must not be judged exclusively by the
feminine Idea of fidelity. A man of
personality and strength who Is not
faithful to his vows, alone knows why
he injures himself, and for himself he
must be judge to clear pr condemn.
For a Weak or Two.
"Baseball Is over for 1912.”
"Yep."
"The fans are at a loss now for some
thing to talk about, I suppose.”
"Not yet. They can still discuss what
might have happened If the season had
lasted a little bit longer."
The czar of Russia will be exciting
the envy of the American billionaire.
News comes from Germany that the
czar’s life Is Insured In an English
company for {6,000,000.
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FOLEY KIDNEY RILLS -“[
For Backache, Rheumatism, Kidneys and Bladder v J
nr a i imr they are richest in ourative qualities 1 r !/ fl
HrCAIlNr CONTAIN NO HABIT FORMING DRUGS //WtoFll
UkVHVUk ARE SAFE. SURE. AND SAVE YOU MONEY 9 f
50 Acres Yield 10,000 Bushels ;
of Irish potatoes in the neighborhood of Natchez, Mississippi, an average of j
200 bushels to the acre. The same land planted immediately in com yielded
60 bu. to the acre. This is the experience of Waldo Henderson, Natchez, Miss.
Go South and Prosper
The land is cheap and terms are easy. Can you imagine getting 200 bushels
of potatoes and 60 bushels of corn per acre in one year in the North?
Write for booklets giving you full information about the prices of land. |
J, C. CLAIR, Immigration Commissioner, Room L600 III. Central Station,Chicago
