mi mi im
f ^^-J5sSSSSS5SS5SSSSS5S55SSSESSSSSSSSSS5SS5S5SSSSSSSS555SSiSS5^^
f MARY MIDTHORNE ]
BY
GEORGE BARR McCUTCHEON.
Author of “Graustark.” “Truxton King,” etc.
. ^ Copyright, 1911. By Dodd, Mead A Co. JJ
' mi nn nil
CHAPTER XVII—(Continued.)
Payson turned in surprise. "Chet
wynd?”
"Didn’t he tell you that Chetwynd
is out there, too, in an iron bound
chest?”
"Good heaven! What are you talk
ing about?” cried the other, in genu
ine amazement.
“Never mind,” said Eric, grimly.
"What else did he say about—about
me?”
"That you as much as accused him
of being my father,” said Payson, w ith
wonderful self control.
"I didn’t put it Just that way. I as
much as accused y»u of being his son.
There is a difference.”
“I ought to kill you.”
“Of course, he denied you,” said Eric.
“Denied me? Oh, I see. You mean
he disowned me,” said Payson grimly.
“I wonder at your complacency,” said
the other, surveying him in no little
admiration.
“It is not the time for anger,” was
the calm retort. "There is too much
at stake. I have had many lessons in
self restraint. Wall street Is a great
teacher and a great leveler of personal
vanities. I’ve wanted to kill a good
many men since I went there, Mid
thorne. May I ask what grounds you
have for assuming that he is my fa
ther?”
“The resemblance,” said Eric bluntly.
Payson was silent for a minute or
two. Involuntarily his gaze sought the
mirror that hung on the opposite wall.
The room was half dark.
k “Good God!” he exclaimed, his eyes
suddenly contracting and expanding.
He passed a hand over his own face, as
if to see whether the movement W'ould
be reflected in the looking glass.
“You see?” said Eric gently, a great
pity in his heart.
‘it’s—it’s incredible! He spoke of
the resemblance, but I had no idea it
was so marked. Why—why, I can see
his eyes, his nose, his—”
“See here, Jack," broke in Midthorne
. impulsively, “I’m sorry for all this. I
^ can’t tell you how sorry I am. From
the bottom of my heart, I hope it can
, all be cleared up satisfactorily. I hope
it is r.cthing more than a curious freak
of nature.”
Payson turned on him furiously.
“My mother is an honest woman! She
couldn’t have done the horrible thing
you are accusing her of. Only prosti
tutes descend to—” He stopped sud
denly.
eyes, a deep groan breaking through
his bloodless lips.
The other understood. "I’m sorry,
Eric,” he muttered, forgetting his own
emotions in contemplation of his com
panion’s sudden pain. "I forgot—”
Eric cut him off. his pride aflame. "I
don’t want your pity, or your explana
tions, or>—”
Payson considerately left his side
and walked to the window, peering out
Into the night, giving Midthorne time
to recover himself.
After a few minutes Eric spoke.
"How does he account for the re
semblance?” he asked quietly.
Pavson returned to his place on the
hearth stone. " I am willing to dis
cuss these things with you Midthorne.
because you are Mary’s brother, and
because you have a perfect right to
know -who and what I am. Td do just
as you are doing if I had a sister and
It was you who wanted to marry her.
I’d ask questions of you. just as—”
"And I’d tell you to go to the devil!”
"But,” went on the other calmly, "if
she loved you and you loved her. and 1
knew you to be an honorable, well
meaning chap—as you are. Eric—Td
give her over to you in a minute.”
“I daresay,” remarked Erie bluntly.
Payson chose again to ignore an of
fensive remark. “But I would ask
questions, as I said before.” he went
on. "They would relate to you and not
to the people who brought you into
the world. You ask me how Adam ac
counts for the resemblance. Well, he
doesn’t attempt to do so. He knew my
i father well. They were boys and men
g together. All he will say is that I am
like my father, and that my father was
Henry Payson. who lies out there in
the Atlantic. That is all I can get out
of him. I’ll confess there’s an air of
mystery about it, greater than ever,
now that I've looked squarely into your
r looking glass. My own seems a little
less brutal. But he swears on his soul,
as he loves me—and I know he does—
that I have nothing to fear. Curiously,
however, he forbids me to question my
mother.”
“Aha!" ejaculated his listener.
"He is right,” protested Payson.
"How can I go to her with—well, with
questions?”
His voice shook with the sudden rush
of an emotion that came over him so
ewlftlv that he could not suppress It.
He turned his hack quickly and
clenched his hands in the violent effort
to regain control of himself.
“You can’t go to her.” cried Eric,
casting off all reserve. “Not for all the
world. Come. come. Jack, buck up! I
am the last person in the world to con
demn you or any other man. If you can
bring yourself to accept an apology
from me, I offer it to you here and now,
in my own house. What is more, I
withdraw my opposition so far as you
and Mary are concerned.”
Payson had whirled and was staring
at him with incredulous eyes.
"I am not fcol enough to ask you to
overlook the insults I have offered,”
went on Midthorne rapidly. "You will
consider them worse than Insults when
you learn the truth about the man
who—”
With a glad cry. Jack Payson
stretched out his hands and grasped
Eric’s shoulders.
"Nonsense!" he exclaimed, his eyes
aglow. “You’re hipped about some
thing. Don’t you suppose I can see
there’s something wrong? You’re not
yourself. That's why I can and do
overlook the so-called insults. I don’t
hold anything against you, Eric. We
can't help being friends. You don’t
know how happy I am to hear you say
that you won’t stand In the way of our
marriage. It would have been unpleas
ant to defy you, but that—”
“Just a moment. Payson,” Inter
rupted Eric. “I must tell you that Mary
has decided that she can't marry you.
We’ve talked It over.”
“What!” gasped the other, dismayed.
His Jaw dropped. “Impossible! I don’i
believe It. She loves me. Nothing
could change—”
Eric held up his hand, smiling rather
wanly as he met the distressed look in
the eyes of Mary’s lover.
“But I’ll see to it that she reconsid
ers, She does love you. She’s doing
all this for my sake, and because I
have been so selfish as to make it quite
Impossible for her to do anything else
k but give you up. Take off your coat,
/ Jack. I’d like to have you stay for
' dinner with us. But before you accept
the invitation. I have something I want
to say to you. I have a confession to
29
make. I'm going to give It to the world
tomorrow, but you shall have It first of
all."
Back In the little dining room the
single maid-of-all-work was laying the
table. With the opening and closing
of the kitchen door there came subtly
into the front part of the house the
fragrant aro*ia of boiling coffee.
"A confession?” demanded Payson,
all at sea over the riotous turn his
emotions had taken. “What can you
have to confess?”
The door of the hall opened sud
denly. Mary stood before them, look
ing from one to the other with dark,
questioning eyes. She had heard the
last few words of Eric’s speech from
behind the partly opened door, as she
paused there for a final touch to her
hair. A dainty, exquisite housegown
of pink enveloped her slender figure.
“He has no confession to make,” she
protested shrilly. "Go away, Jack,
please go away. I must talk with him
alone.”
Both men started forward, actuated
by totally different impulses.
"I’ll go, Mary, If you ask It of—” be
gan one, with an eloquent tenderness
in his voice. He felt rather than un
derstood the gravity of the situation.
"Wait!” remonstrated the other. "It’s
only fair to Jack, Mary. I’ve asked him
to stay. But it must be settled before
hand, whether he is with me or against
me. Please go back to your room, dear,
until I’ve—”
“No,” she said firmly, advancing into
the room. "Jack, dear, if you love me,
go!”
Payson looked from one to the other,
in plain distress.
“If he really loves you, he'll stay and
hear what I have to say. That will be
the test,” said Eric.
“Will you go. Jack?” she pleaded,
coming up to him and putting her
hands on his arms.
“Certainly,” he said.
Eric, in dumb wonder, watched him
slip into the storm coat he had dis
carded the moment before. He offered
no further resistance to his departure,
but seemed literally to shrink into the
background, although, in plain truth,
he did not move an inch from the spot
on which he stood.
Mary walked to the door with her
lover. There he turned and put his
strong hands on her shoulders. He
made no vulgar display of his love; and
it was a great, masterful love. His
eyes alone caressed her.
“I’ll come tomorrow’, Mary. What
ever It is that distresses you—and Eric,
too—thresh it all out tonight. It's bet
ter that you should. Then, dear heart,
when I come tomorrow I shall be able
to help you. Ask anything of me. I
am your slave. Good night. Good
night, Eric.”
He passed out Into the night, gently
closing the door behind him. For a
moment she stood where he left her,
stared dumbly at the closed door. The
sound of his footsteps crossing the
porch came to her, then the brisk
tread on the gravel walk.
She put her arms against the door
and laid her head upon them, burying
her face. For a long time she held this
rather tragic position. There was no
sound in the room. Eric was watching
her inertly. The maid of all work
dropped a knife on the dining room
floor. They did not hear it strike.
At last she raised her face, looking
straight aoove her, as if to heaven.
After a moment, she turned to her
brother.
“You must change your clothes,
Errie. Dinner will be ready in a few
minutes.” she said wearily.
“You’ve just got to be happy,” he
cried from the very depths of his tor
tured soul. “My poor, brave little
Mary.”
She smiled wanly. “Dear old Errie!”
* * *
Hours afterward, they sat before the
cheery fireplace, silent, reflective, de
pressed. It had been a sorry meal, that
dinner of theirs. The garrulous New
England servant, old for her years—
which were surprisingly few as things
go In old New England—gave up all ef
forts to draw the master and mistress
Into conversation. Never before, in all
her time as “help,” had she failed so
utterly to Inspire communicativeness.
It certainly was unsettlng. Her name
was Lizzie—a New England Lizzie, at
that. An Elizabeth by any other name
would have smelled a rat.
No word had passed between brother
and sister for the matter of an hour
or more. Her hand lay clasped in his
on the arm of the chair he occupied.
Their thoughts were their own. She
had kissed him when he announced his
decision to put no obstacle in the way
of John Payson’s courtship.
Suddenly there came a rapping at
the door, a gentle, measured tapping
that rose distinct above the boisterous
bedlam of the winds.
A sort of terror took hold of them.
The hand clasp tightened, their eyes
grew wide with wonder and alarm.
They waited, staring into each other’s
eyes, motionless in the chairs, their
hearts thumping loudly; waited for the
ghostly sound to be repeated. Eric's
ears, strangely enough, were strained
to catch the sound of a well remem
bered laugh.
Again the tapping, still gentle but a
little more Imperative. They turned
their faces toward the door. Their eyes
were glued to the prim white knob. It
turned, and the door was slowly pushed
ajar.
A tall figure stood on the threshold,
outlined against the blackness beyond.
A gaunt, thin figure that waited there j
for a word of welcome from within.
The picture held for a minute. Then
Eric sprang to his feet with a cry, more
of relief than surprise.
“Uncle Horace!”
Involuntarily Mary glanced at the
clock on the mantelpiece. The thought
uppermost In her mind was revealed
In that significant act. What was Hor
ace Blagden doing abroad at this time
of night? At 9:30, and such a night as
this! She started forward impulsively.
“What has happened. Uncle Horace?”
she cried. These were the first words
she had spoken to him In many weeks.
“May I come In?” asked Horace,
rather humbly—for him. He looked
thinner, more ascetic than ever before.
In the long black raincoat and the
white kerchief that protected his throat
from the shrill winds. His tall hat
seemed to set lower on his head; his
thin shoulders were higher; his eyes
appeared to have shrunken farther
back Into their sockets. A dripping
umbrella hung suspended from his
gloved hand.
He seemed to have aged vastly In the
few hours that had passed since Eric's
conversation with JUm In the public
square.
The young man sprung forward and
grasped his uncle's hand, suddenly
aroused to a sense of. duty—and com
passion. Mr. Blagden’..stepped Inside,
but, responding to the habit of a life
time, caught himself up In time, and
turned to deposit his umbrella In the
niche outside the door, which he closed
gently an Instant later.
"Is there anything wrong with Aunt
Rena?” demanded Eric. “What brings
you out on a night like this?”
“I shan't remove my coat, Mary,”
said Mr. Blagden, as she took his hnt
and stood waiting for him to unfasten
the cape of his coat. "It Is a dreadful
night. I thought I should be blown
away crossing the common. How
warm and cosey you have made it here.
’Pon my word, I had no idea Mrs. Ver
ner’s place was so attractive.”
“Sit dowrn. Uncle,” said Eric, pull
ing a chair up to the grate. "I—w'e are
glad to see you here,” he floundered,
considerably at a loss for words.
“Thank you,” said Horace. "Perhaps
it would be better if I removed my coat.
An umbrella is of scant service on a
night like this, what with the wind
blowing and the rain coming from all
sides.”
Eric relieved him of the coat, while
Mary undid the muffler. To thelt
amazement, he wore, Instead of the
customary frock coat, the familiar old
dressing gown they had known sinco
childhood. With one accord, they
looked at his feet. They were encased
in the ancient carpet slippers that
Aunt Rena had made for him a score
of years before, once a toasted brown,
now a w'ater soaked black.
“For heaven's sake!” cried Mary
aghast.
Noting their concentrated gaze, he
looked down. For a moment he was
silent. Then he sat down rather ab
ruptly in the big chair.
"Well, I—I declare!" he murmured,
blinking his eyes. “I—I hadn’t noticed
that I—”
They did not wait for him to finish
the plaintive comment on his own un
happy plight. Mary gave commands,
and both set about to provide warm
stockings and slippers for him. He sub
mitted to the changes without a pro
test, and even smiled when she pro
duced a huge pair of gum boots from
the hall closet.
“You will catch your death-cold," she
said. "How could you think of coming
out in those Bllppers, Uncle Horace?
They—”
His smile deepended. "That’s Just it,
my dear,” he said. “I didn’t think of
coming out In them. Dear me, I—I—
But, of course. I was In a great hurry.
I don’t believe I have ever ventured
beyond the porch in these slippers be
fore. You are very good, both of you.
Very good.”
They stood above him, looking down
with puzzled, distressed eyes, both sud
denly mute In the presence of what now
shaped Itself Into a tragedy.
Mr. Blagden held out his hands to
the fire, shivering as with a chill. Then
he allowed his gaze to sweep the warm,
lamp-lit room.
“You are very comfortable here, I am
sure,” he said slowly, as If weighing
something in his mind. “Very com
fortable and happy in your own little
home.”
"Yes,” said they, without thinking.
His shoulders seemed to settle deep
er in the chair, his chin sank ever so
slightly.
“I—I fear, then, that my mission to
night Is—er—ahem!—a rather hopeless
one. If you will help me on with those
boots, Eric I will go back to your
aunt—”
“In heaven’s name, Uncle Horace,
what has happeded?” cried Eric. “What
is it?"
Mr. Blagden looked from one to the
other before responding. There was
something abjectly pathetic in his face.
He #ulped, and his firm square chin
trembled.
“Well,—you see,—” he began, with an
effort, ”—I came over tonight to ask
you both to come back to—to—’’ He got
no farther. His voice choked and tears
started up In his eyes—eyes that had
not felt the smart of tears since boy
hood’s earliest pains.
The Midthornes, in that moment’s
utter crumbling on the part of the
great man of Corinth, felt the passing
of a life long spirit of antagonism and
restraint. It melted and oozed away,
leaving their heartB empty, and aching,
and cleansed of all the things that
rankled.
They were young and strong, and
their souls were sweet despite the bit
ter seeds that this gaunt old man had
planted in his years of plenty. Now he
was come to his days of famine. He had
sown, and he had reaped, and his bins
were empty. He was poor, he had come
to beg!
They stood beside him. Their hands
fell upon his drooping shoulders, and
rested there while the strong current of
human sympathy gushed from their
hearts into the famished soul of this
wondering old man.
He looked up, strangely dazed; he
oould not understand the sensation that
was creeping over him. He had never
felt anything Just like It before In all
his life. No one had ever presumed to
such gentle familiarity, such frank
fearlessness. It was sensation.
“Why, Mary—” he began, a great
question leaping Into his wet eyes. He
tried himself first, before going on, Just
to see If he could smile as she was
smlTlnP' Then, feeling his Ups relax, he
could not trust himself to further
speech for very fear of saying some
thing that might destroy the sweetness
of his discovery.
(Continued next week.)
Theory of Workmen’s Compensation.
From the Review of Reviews.
There are in the United States, broadly
speaking, two kinds of compensation laws:
One is based on the theory that compen
sation is a tax laid on Industry and, there
fore, to be collected and paid out by the
state. The other starts with the premise
that compensation is a hazard of industry
against which the employer may —In many
states, must,—insure, and that the duty of
the state ceases when it has established
a proper supervision of Insurance to guar
antee payments and of settlements to pre
vent imposition. Expressive of the first
theory are the monopolistic state fund
laws of Ohio, Washington, Oregon, Ne
vada, West Virginia, and Wyoming. In
each of these the state collects the prem
ium (tax) and pays the loss (compensa
tion). In each of the other 26 compensa
tion states Insurance of compensation is
either permitted or compelled, and com
petition between from two to four meth
ods of Insurance allowed. The striking
fact, however, is that, while New York
belongs in theory in the latter group, M
originally adopted the settlement and pay
ment practice of the tax-theory group
Either it should have excluded commer
cial Insurance,—as did Ohio and the five
other "tax” states,—or else It should have
recognized and properly supervised the
familiar practice of commercial insurance.
The amendment of 1216 thus accomplishes
harmony In theory. In brief. It Btrlkei
from the New York law provisions which
never should have been Inserted in the
commercial insurance compensation law
adopted by New York In 1813.
But, It was argued, does not this settle
ment method come from the Dutch law
where commercial insurance 1s permitted!
Yes; but, under the Dutch law, the gov
ernment has made Itself responsible,—bj
becoming In effect the guarantor of every
Insurer,—for every compensation payment
and the government, therefore, properly,
itself collects and pays the compensation,
no matter from whom due. The opposite
is true in New York. The state expressly
disclaims liability, and limits its function
to supervision of the employers and insur
ers upon whom rest that liability and the
management of an official mutual fund
for the employers who prefer that method
of Insuring their compensation payments.
In Holy Scripture the day Is always
reckoned from the sunset of the pre
vious evening.
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contains neither Opium, Morphine nor other Karcotio
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High Finance.
"Henry, dear," announced Mra. Up
to-date, “I guess you will have to ad
mit that I am a pretty good business
manager after all. I took Willie with
me to the movies this afternoon and
as it was raining when we came out
of the theater, I gave Willie ten cents
car fare and had him hurry home and
get an umbrella for me. In that way
I saved my new hat from being
ruined.”
“Uh, huh,” replied Mr. Up-to-date.
“Yes, I see, my dear; but why the
Sam Hill didn’t you both ride home for
your ten cents in the first place?”
“Henry! You—boo hoo—you never
give me credit for anything I do!”—
Judge.
NEGLECT YOUR SCALP
And Lose Your Hair. Cuticura Pre
vents It. Trial Free.
Cuticura Soap shampoos cleanse
and purify the scalp of dandruff while
the Ointment soothes and heals the
irritated scalp skin. Dandruff and
itching are hair destroyers. Get ac
quainted with these supercreamy emol
lients for the skin and scalp.
Sample each free by mail with Book.
Address postcard, Cuticura, Dept. XY,
Boston. Sold everywhere.—Adv.
Electric Plant In Arctic Circle.
The “farthest north” electric plant
is being constructed at Mount Hope,
100 miles north of the arctic circle.
There are 400 persons at this place,
and the plant is being built by one
of the missions.
The darkness at Mount Hope is in
tense during the long arctic night,
and the electric planf will supply pow
er for both light and heat. Engineers
at the University of Pennsylvania will
design the equipment.
The electricity will be generated by
wind power, as the wind at Mount
Hope is steady and seldom falls below
20 miles an hour.
Drink Denison’s Coffee,
For your health's sake.
The Conductor’s Hope.
“I hope,” said the car conductor,
pensively, after taking the names of
the people who saw the lady lose her
balance, “that women will vote, and
that they’ll have a political party of
their own and a convention and a
platform.”
“And then what?”
"And that they’ll advocate capital
punishment for anybody who gets oil
the platform backward.”
Rain on the Diamonds.
Madge—Do you think Mr. Phan
loves you more than he does baseball?
Maude—I really don’t know. Last
night he told me that my eyes were
like diamonds.
Madge—That is a sign of affection.
Maude—Then a little later he said
that when I cried it made him feel
like a postponed game.—Judge.
A Benevolent Refusal.
"Senator, I wish you would give tqe
a Job as your private secretary.”
"Oh, my boy," responded the oily
senator, “don't get mixed up with the
government service. Nothing to it.
Ruins a young man. Besides, I have
promised that position to my son.”—
Louisville Courier-Journal.
Not Too Cheap,
“Talk is cheap,” said the man who
is always quoting proverbs.
“Oh, sure,” said the man who was
waiting for an opening to make a
touch. “Lend me five dollars so I
can call my wife up on the phone.
She’s in Chicago.”
Not an Acquaintance.
He—Do you knov/ Poe’s “Raven”?
She—Why, no. What’s the matter
with him?—The Club-Fellow.
His WELL-CHOSEN response
Old Frenchman’s Words, in Acknowl
edging Gift, Were Certainly Short
and to the Point.
In a certain country town there
lived an old Frenchman named Be
Blanc. One night some of his friends
gave him a surprise party and pre
sented him with a watch chain. That
week the local paper printed an ac
count of the affair, saying that in ac
knowledgment of the gift Mr. Le Blanc
responded in "a few well-chosen
words.’’
Curious to know what the old
Frenchman said, someone asked the
reporter who waB present what those
"well-chosen words” were.
“Well, I’ll tell you,” he answered.
“When Charlie finished his presenta
tion speech and held out the chain,
the old man—who had ben eyeing it
greedily all the while—suddenly
snatched it from his hand and ex
claimed: ‘Py chee, dat was a good
one!”’—Youth’s Companion.
In the Society Islands.
Pigs represent a kind of concrete
idea of position a-long most of the
natives of the Society islands. These
animals, lr fact, are JuBt as carefully
nursed as children. Only male pigs
are esteemed, however, and are tied
all their lives to a pole under a little
roof, while the sows run wild.
“The pigs are carefully fed,” writes
Doctor Speiser, "but this, their only
pleasure, is spoiled by constant and
terrific toothache, caused by cruel
man, who has a horrible custom of
knocking out the upper eyeteeth of
the male. The lower teeth, finding
nothing to rub against, grow bo a sur
prising size, first upward, then down,
until they again reach the Jaw, grow
on and on, through the cheek, through
the jawbone, pushing out a few other
teeth on the way. Then they come
out of the jaw again and curve a sec
ond, sometimes a third, time, if the
poor beast lives long enough.
Keen Disappointment.
“Congressman Blowster says he
didn’t think much of the San Fran
cisco fair.”
"I think 1 know the reason why.”
“Well?"
“He hoped to launch a presidential
boom while out there, but it failed to
materialize.”
Tedious Business.
“What is your attitude toward the
belligerents in Europe?”
"Oh, the usual attitude.”
“And what is that?”
“I’m just waiting for them to quit.”
"Umph! You are evidently not
rushed for time.”
The more money a man has the
more he is abused—and the less he
cares.
Your imagination is the principal in
gredients in a good time.
The guide, philosopher and friend
is sometimes merely guyed.
DT ATI/ LOSSES SURELY PREVENTED
111 AI ill kj Cutler1. Bluklefl Pills. ham4
ARAiAwA priced. freeh, reliable; preferred H
Weetere etockneen. beceuse the*
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K Cf’ Write for booklet end teettmonlele.
1 His It-deee pkpe. Blaeklep Pills $I.M <
LlUVl 10-Pom pkae. Bleoklep Pine 4.M .
Use enj Injector, but Cutter's beetJ
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Inalat ee Cuttar'a. It unobtainable, order direct.
The Cuttar Laboratory, Berkeley, Cal., or Cbleaie, lit,
Their Conversation.
In the days of Henry Clay a Ken
tucky farmer sent a servant to Lex
ington with a note for the president
of a certain bank. When the man re
turned he said to his master:
"I met Marse Henry Clay In the
bank and had a conversation with
him."
“Indeed! and on what topic did you
and Mr. Clay converse?” inquired the
master with interest
The darky removed his hat and'
made a sweeping bow. . . . "Says
Mr. Clay to me." . . . And another;
very low bow. "And I the same.to Mr.
Clay.”—Everybody’s Magazine.
Pot and Kettle.
“How Ignorant that woman is,” saidl
Mrs. Gausslp to her caller. “She and!
1 went to the Zoo the other day and!
I thought I would laugh outright when]
she called the giraffe a ‘carafe.’ The]
joke of it was, the animal wasn’t aj
giraffe at all, it was a camomile.”
Not a Desirable One.
First Grad—Have you found an
opening yet, old man?
Second Grad—Yes, I’m in a hole.
Luck Opposed.
"Here’s hard luck!” *\
“What’s the matter?"
“Nothing but soft drinks.”
No such thin"
as “rubber g
roofing”
A lot of manufacturers call their
roofing “Rubber Roof lag,**
ERubberoid”—Rubber-thia and >
'he life is all out of rubber if If
s daylight for six months. |
i thing as “Rubber Roofing’* E
lero is no rubber in |;
ainteed
Roofing
It is made of the very best Roofing Felt thor
oughly saturated in our prqf^rly blended
asphalts and coated by a harder grade of
asphalt which keeps the soft saturation
within—the life of the roofing—from drying
out quickly.
It is guaranteed 5, 10 or 15 years, according to
whether the thickness is 1, 2 or 3 ply re
spectively. | j
Your local dealer will quote you reason
able pricea on our good*.
General Roofing Manufacturing Co.
World'8 largest manvfacturera of Roofing f
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New Terk City Chicago Philadelphia St. Usis
Boots* Cleveland Pittsburgh Detroit SsaFraadsco
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Atlanta Haaston Undos Hamburg Sydney
--"• • p. !
SIOUX CITY PTG. CO., NO. 3/-1!y5^,
10c Worth of
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Get rid of the stumps and grow |
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Write for Free Handbook of Explosive* No. 69F, j
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DU PONT POWDER COMPANY j
WILMINGTON DELAWARE f
... '
