iiii iiii nn
. " ... " "—■ ■■■■■ T
f MARY MWTHORNE |
GEORGE BARR McCUTCHEON.
Author of “Graustirk,” “Truxton King," etc.
^ Copyright. 1911, Hy Dodil, Mead A Co.
iiii iiii iiii "
CHAPTER XIX—(Continued.)
“I can almost see the struggle on the
bridge," said Horace, addressing no one
In particular. "It appears to me as If
In a vision. I can see Ohetwynd hurl
ing the stone at Eric, and the savage
attack that came after. I can hear the
things hi was saying of Mary—those
brutal, vicious things. The light was
fair. God called my boy to the judg
ment bar. It was bis time to #o. It
was not an accident. It was God’s will.
No human agency could have checked
the will of God—”
A man was standing near the hat
rack In the half, Eric stared, unbeliev
ing.
Mr. Blngdon's gaze rested for a mo
ment on the motionless figure. Then
his long, thin arm was raised; a quiv
ering hand pointed toward the door
leading to the porch.
“Leave my house!"
Adam Curr did not move. "I Just
Wanted to say—" he began.
"Go!”
"I can’t go until I have said—”
"Go, I say!" Horace’s voice shook
with suppressed fury.
“—until 1 have said that I am sorry
to have been the cause of so much
anguish to your wife, toward whom I
have had no feeling," persisted Adam
patiently. “I am sorry for what I've
done to her. My grudge was against
you."
"Hard as flint,” fell from Horace's
twisted lips.
"To strike fire from flint,” was the
other's sharp retort.
"You have not found me so hard as
you suspected," said Horace slowly.
“Not hurd enough to give out fire when
you strike in these days.”
"Nor am I so hard, Horace Blagden,”
Raid Adam, for the first time revealing
a sign of nervousness. "Well, I’ll go
liow. If you need me, Eric, I'll be
ready. A black Sunday."
"You have failed there,” cried Hor
ace, a thrill In his voice almost of
b-lumph. “It Is a bright Sunday. We
Jee the light for the first time In years.
Go. sir. Eric will not need you. Wo
thall ask no favors of you, Adam
Carr.”
I 33
gry," he stammered distractedly. "I’m
going out for a while, Mary. Stay
around close, please, and see that—
that everything's all right upstairs."
"Aain’t nobody going to eat'—” be
gan Martha, almost In a state of col
lapse.
lie was flying down th,e steps and
across the lawn, leaving Mary in the
doorway looking after hhn with
troubled, uneasy eyes. She saw him
vault the wall and make off In the di
rection of Jabez Carr's cottage. After
a moment she turned to Martha.
"I shan't disappoint you, Martha, I'm
hungry. Come along."
That was always the way with
Mary. She was a philosopher. She
was content to leave everything to
Providence—or luck? Meanwhile, she
was hungry.
Her brother made straight for old
Jabe's cottage. Somehow, he felt in
need of an old friend- one who could
He to him Joyously. He suddenly was
longing for the vainglorious lies that
had charmed his boyhood fancy, even
though he knew them to be lies. He
wanted to hear something beside the
truth. The truth was an ugly thing—
a very ugly thing. Why do people ever
tell the truth? His soul hungered for
lies—the guy, delightful lies that old
Jabe could tell. Harmless lies, they
could hurt no one, not even the teller
of them.
Uncle Jabe was smoking his pipe on
the doorstep, and gently hut quite
audibly berating a squirrel which re
fused to eat out of his hand, a most
insulting thing for a squirrel to do, If
one eoukl judge by the scornful re
marks of the gate keeper.
"Hello!" he called out in his cracked
voice to Eric as the young man un
latched the gate. Somewhat summar
ily, he cast a handful of peanuts at the
very head of the astonished squirrel,
r, , I av . • a r. P>5«, viottAr
"Dang little fool of an idiot,” he com
plained, aw a final opinion of the scur
rying quadruped. "Starve, if you want
to." This in the face of thoughtless
prodigality. "Well, well, Erie, I’m
glad to see you. Where you been
keepin’ yourself?"
Eric wrung the gnarled old paw.
Presently they were sitting side by side
on the bench, leaning back against the
wall of the cottage.
“Uncle Jabe, I wish you’d tell me
that story again of the fight you had
with the pirates who held Lady Imo
gen in captivity. That was the very
best thing you ever did. Tell it once
more.”
Jabez scratched his head, blinking
his faded little eyes in considerable
surprise and embarrassment. He
coughed rather dismally. "I—I can't
Jest exactly place that—Oh, yes, I
know the one. Hut you see, Eric, that
was the most gosh-all-whacking lie of
all.”
"Never mind. That's Just why I
want to hear It. Go on, please."
The undent regarded him specula
tively. "You are jest like a teeny little
kid. They’re always askin’ you to tell
the same story over and over ag’in.”
"I'm kind of lonesome, just for one
of your whacklngest ones, Uncle Jabe,"
said Eric, rather plaintively. “Don't
tell me a true one."
“By ginger, I ain't got any true
ones," exclaimed Jabez, very truthfully.
"Leustwise, I can’t remember the true
ones. My memory ain’t what it used
to be. Come to that, I’m danged if I
believe 1 can recollect the ilea either.
It's powerful uphandy to have to re
member what’s lies and what ain't."
"But the one about Lady Imogen was
a fine one."
Jabez was racking his brain. "It
must ha’ been,” he mused sadly.
"That's why it's slipped my mind.
Who was she? 1 mean, this here Lady
Imogen you’re talktn’ about.”
"The daughter of the Earl of Gay
stone," supplied the grown-up child.
“Urn,” said Jabez uncomfortably.
“She couldn’t ha' been. There never
was a Earl of Gaystone. Say, see that
squirrel over yonder? That blamed
tittle-—"
"Tell another one, if you can’t re
member that one,” Eric broke In. I’m
actually homesick for one of your good
old tales. 1 want to go back to the old
days. Uncle Jabe.”
"Somethin’ gone wrong, my lad?"
"Yes," said Eric, leaning his head
ngainst the wall and staring up at the
tree tops.
Jabez was silent for a moment.
"All right," said he gently. "I'll tell
you a new one a rip-snorter.”
CHAPTER XX.
Carr allowed his gaze to rest on the
face of Mrs. Blegden for an instant.
Khe was regarding him with unspeak
able loathing In her eyes; the crushed,
beaten spirit was answering the call
of pride. He opened his lips to speak
his last word to her, met the look in
her eyes, bowed awkwardly, and strode
from the house without uttering an
other syllable.
"I cannot turn the other cheek to
»lm—I cannwt," grated Horace. " 'Love
^our enemy us yourself!' Bah! Puerile
honsense!”
Brother and sister watched them
ascend the stairs and return down the
hall. A moment later a door above was
gently closed.
"Did you hear what he said?" asked
Mary, In a half whisper. "He sain
'Krlc will not need you!’ Oh, Errle.
Errle, he means to bo kind, he means
to be Just.”
Eric gronned. "Kind! Just! After
what I’ve done for him.”
She spoke eagerly. "He realises that
he has not always been kind or Jusi
to you. He—"
"See here, Mary, you don't know all
that happened In there before you
came. He cursed me ut first. He
railed me a murderer. He laughed
when I said that I was ready and will
ing to give myself up to the law. He
said there was no law that could pun
ish me sufficiently. The change of
fvont came after all this. Oh, 1 know
how he feels—how ho feels In his
heart. He—"
"That was madness, fury," she cried.
•'He couldn’t help It. Ho was beside
himself. Now he Is beginning to see
clearly. He is a fair man."
“Just the same, I told him I was go
ing to give myself up to the law and
stand trial. I—”
She cried out piteously. "You must
not do that! You shall not!”
"It Isn't "for Uncle Horace alone to
acquit me of manslaughter. Thnt'B
what Adam says the charge will be.
The court must do It. And. listen: if
I wait for Uncle Horace to file the af
fidavit against me. If 1 wait for him
to bring me Into court. It will never
come to pass. He won't do It. It will
be his turn to punish me. He will sit
back and let the charge hnng'over me
for years, just as I have done by him
in a different way. Oh. I know him!
He doesn't forgive so readily. He has
Adam Carr and me Just where ho
wants us. And he'll be content to let
Us wall, Just as he lias waited."
"I am sure you are wrong. He will
do one of two things. He will bring
charges against you, or he will openly
exonerate you. He will Issue a state
"ON INFORMATION AND BELIEF."
■loan Bright walked briskly up
Blagden avenue the next morning. The
day was warm, and sweet, and spring
like; the sky was blue; the trees were
beginning to don their gay greenery,
and the dead leaves of last fall no
longer littered the well-kept lawns.
Bhe was abroad early, bound for the
•home of Horace Blagden, to see Mary
Midthorne. Her blithe young heart
would not stay closed against the way
ward friend; she was off to make
peace with her and to bog forgive
ness for her own shortcomings.
She had thought it all out. She had
been thinking it all out for weeks and
months. After nil, wliat had Mary
dene that was so deserving of re
proach ? Nothing—nothing at all. Miss
Bright was arguing, when one came to
sift out the facts of the ease. For that
matter, had not her own judgment of
Mary's frivolities been formed while
she was still under the influence of
those back number morals of the old
Corinth? She had pronounced herself
broad-minded, even In the old days be
fore the reconstruction; now she re
alized that she had been narrow—not
so narrow us the rest of them. Heaven
forbid!—but disposed to a shortness of
vision that did ont permit her to see
far beyond the confines of a very
small circumference.
In some unaccountable way, she. the
orized, everything in Corinth had un
dergone a subtle change. Church
going. for instance, struck her as a
rather sprigthly proceeding nowadays,
instead of the laboriously som
ber duty it once had been. Corinth,
throughout all its concentrated life, had
gone to church with a stately energy,
now it seemed to have conceived the
idea It was pleasanter to go about it
cheerfully, gladly, even sprtnglly. .loan
found herself comparing Corinth with
other satisfying places In the great big
world- not the Babylons. hut tlie clean,
wholesome, alive places where one
could take a deep breath of Cod’s air
and not feel contaminated because the
ungodly shared it In common.
Blagden avenue was no wider than It
had ever been: it Just seemed to her
that It was. What Influence had been
at work to open tne front room window
nit iim* *\ iijjr \iuiun,
"Besides," went on Erie, knitting his
brows in thought, "it I want to be
brought to trial and legally acquitted
of crime, I must not put him in the false
position of complaining against me if
hf really means to acquit me in Ills own
mind and heart. I must do It all my
self. He may not aid in the prosecu
tion, there is that much to be said. But
if I don't give myself up. the state's at
torney will force him to take action,
ns got to come, so I might as well
shoulder the whole of it and let Unde
Horace out of an unpleasant job."
Her protests were of no avail. He
announced Ills Intention to deliver him
telf up to the sheriff the next morn
ing
"It's a bnllable offense." he said.
"Adam <’arr says I will not have to go
to gaol If I have a bondsman ready. I
am sure I will have no difficulty In
petting—"
"What will Joan say when she hears
of all tills'"' cried the uphappy girl
falling back on resources she would
have despised an hour ago.
He closed Ills eyes, as if In pain. “I
wonder if what Adam said will turn
out lo he true.”
The remark would have puzzled her
at another time. Now she passed it
over w ithout comment. A new thought
had occurred to her.
"You must go to Jack. Tell every
thing to him. He will help you. Ho
1> strong and—"
"I i ould have told him yesterday."
he s-iid, "but. not today. It"s loo late
now."
Martha the life long servant In the
hous- was coming down the stairs.
“Dinner’s been whiting nearly an
hour. Mias Mary." she said peevishly.
“Everything's spoilt, and it's Sunday,
too. ! knoi god on their door twice, but
Mr. Horace rays, without opening, to
never mind, they won't be down, but
for you young folks to go on eating.
Ho hurry. Belinda’s mad as she c’n be.
I don’t blame her cither. It’s terrible
for a i cok—and an Irish cook at that
—to be—Why. Mr. Eric, you surely
can't be going out now!"
Eric had grabbed up his hat—an old
slouch hat instead of ihe tall silk one
he had worn to church—and was strtd
*ng toward the porch.
can't eat anything— »m not hun
*
blinds In all the houses along the ave
nue, not only on week days but on the
Sabbath? The front room or parlor
gloom of sanctuary no longer prevailed,
she noticed that. Bunday nowadays
found the light streaming Into those
prim and virtuous rooms with all the
glory It could produce. She recalled
other days, not. so far off, when Cor
inth closed Its front room shutters for
fear the world might look within and
break the holy Sabbath day. Now Cor
inth sat on Its front porches and gave
welcome to the Sabbath all day long.
No wonder the town seemed new to
her, and better.
She recalled certain comments her
father had made Ic the automobile tho
day before while they were being
whisked homeward after that uplifting
service.
"Hlagden avenue seems broader than
It was yesterday,” he had said.
"ft Is quite as wide, literally, as
Broadway, Judge Bright,” said young
Mr. Hallonsby.
"Ah, but the whole world is In Broad
way.”
"f think the world Is Just beginning
to take notice of Hlagden avenue,” was
the young man’s comment. He meant
to be sarcastic, but merely spoke the
truth.”
"The world Isn't so bad as It’s paint
ed."
“Depends on local color,” said the
young man, airing himself epigram
matlcally. He felt rather proud of It
"And whether you look up or down,”
completed the Judge.
And so. said Joan to herself that
night, after Sallonsby had taken his
departure, It all depends on the way
one looked at Mary Mldthorne's so
called indiscretions. She was rather
ashamed of herself for having peeped
at them from behind closed front room
shutters, so to speak.
Moreover, she had treated Eric rath
er cavalierly after church. Perhaps it
was the thought of that which kept her
awake nearly all of the night, trying to
blot out tho expression she had caught
In his eyes.
cue wunuereo lr sne would see him
that morning. How handsome, how
manly he had looked—But how now!
She was on her way to see Mary and
no one else. She reminded herself of
this at least a dozen times during her
progress up Blagden avenue.
Suddenly her heart began to beat
furiously, the color came and went in
her cheeks, and her eyes experienced a
curious effect of momentary useless
ness.
Kric Mldthorne had turned tho cor- j
ner above and was approaching her
with long, vigorous Btrides. his head
lowered, his hands in his coat pockets.
The gray Fedora hat was pulled well
down over his eyes. He looked up when
he was 20 yards away, and saw her.
His face, which had been pale and
worn a moment before, was now a
dusky red. On the instant, hers be
came flushed and hot.
She extended her gloved little hahd.
“How do you do. Kric," she said.
They were looking squarely into each
other's eyes as if fascinated.
She waited u moment. “In regard to
the plans ." she asked in the same
manner and quite without purpose. She
could feel the blood roaring In her head.
"Yes. I—I cun’t undertake the work.”
he replied, the words coming rapidly
"I must give it up. He'll have to get
someone else.”
Her eyes fell; her checks lost their
vivid color.
“I—he won't let you off. Eric,” she
stammered. "I um sure ho will not."
His smile was not pleasant to see.
"A great deal has happened since the
bargain was made,” lie said. The word,
bargain, ’ possessed an ominous, even
accusing sound for her.
She met his gaze. “I am on my way
to see Mary now,” she said, as if that
explained everything that had passed.
His face brightened. “You are? I'm
glad, Joan. Nothing should come be
tween you two. Mary loves you ”
"Then It will be all right.” said she,
eagerly. "I was quite wrong—stupidly
wrong. I hope she will understand und
—overlook some of the—”
“Why, couldn’t you have written me
that you'd ceased to care, Joan'"’ ho
broke in regardless. “Why did you let
me go on thinking that you—But. good
heaven, what am I saying? You are
right. You have made it easy for me.
It would have been hard—oh, so hard
to have broken it off if you had gone
on caring.”
She started. Suddenly she was tho
Joan of old. “Broken it off?” she cried
blankly. “1 don't understand."
I will not ask why you have ceased
caring, ’ he went on rapidly. "That is
your own affair. I am glad that vou
are spared the pain of caring for some
one—In that way—who isn’t worthy.
You have found someone who de
serves—"
"Eric, I—” she began tremulously,
then caught herself up with an effort
"Let me turn back with you, please
do, she substituted in low, eager
tones. "I must see you alone, I must
talk with you, Erie. There is so much
1 have to say that can’t be said out
here in—”
"Joan!” ho cried. "Y'ou don’t mean
that you—
"1 I haven't changed," she mur
mured. "There isn't anyone else—
there couldn’t be.”
“And Sallonsby?” he said, the blood
rioting in his veins.
(Continued next week.)
t NEW BELGIAN CAPITAL t
+ IS LOCATED AT HAVRE ♦
From Havre letter to the Brooklyn Eagle.
Havre, however, is something more
than a British base. Havre is the Belgian
capital. Imagine If you can the govern
ment of the United States moving to At
lantic City, or better yet. to'Asbury Park,
with the Japanese, or the Mexicans, or
even (to make the analogy exact) the Ger
mans in possession of Washington. Stick
the state department into one empty shop
along the boardwalk, the navy department
into another, with the departments of
commerce, labor, agriculture, education,
and what not occupying adjacent shops in
the same building. There you have an
idea of Belgium in Havre.
The Belgians chose a large new building
on a bluff facing the sea. four stories
high, with a row* of shops fronting the
street. Over the main entrance a small
sign in blue and white letters was erect
ed: Palais des mlnlsteres. The Belgian
arms were stuck over the door, and the
Belgian flag run up a staff on the roof.
Two sentry boxes were sot down at the
right and left of the entrance and the
ministry moved in. after arriving in
Havre, together with the entire diplo
matic corps (Brand Whitlock excepted) in
motor oars one dark night in November.
This arrangement holds today, except
for tho ministry of war. which is impor
tant enough to occupy a large stone villa
almost at the water s edge.
Outside this villa the Belgian flag flies
during the day. At sundown it is lowered
with what ceremony can be devised ,
Three or four gendarmes line up at atten
tion. At the door of the garage in the
little garden, the military chauffeurs
stand with hands raised in salute. On
the lawn under the windows a few clerks
group themselves and Baron de Brocquo
ville. minister of war, and his small staff
appear at the top of the low steps. Th«
passersby. if any. pause and remove '
their hats.
The Czarina Alexander Fedorovna
and two of her daughters have passed
examinations as trained nurses and 1
with scores of other titled Russian
women are working shoulder to shoul
der with the daughters of the humbles? j
, citizens.
FLY PROBLEM SERIOUS
IN WARRING COUNTRIES
London, (by mail).—Sir Frederick
Treves was to have presided at a meet
ing held at the Mansion House on July
G. to inaugurate a national campaign
against flies, but was prevented from
doing so. And it was flies that were
responsible for his absence, if his own
suspicions are correct, as he explained
in this letter, which was read at the
meeting:
"I am sorry I cannot attend the meet
ing. More than a month ago—just be
fore 1 left for Mudros—1 acquired,
through flies I expect, a complaint, in
Alexandria, which has got gradually
worse; until now I am laid up in bed
and unable to do anything. Had I been
able to attend the meeting I should
have liked to have laid stress upon the
gravity and importance of the subject.
“In South Africa, during the war,
there were more cusu .ities due to flies
than to bullets. In Fiance the presence
of so many unburied dead makes the
fly question a very serious one. In Alex
andria, owing to the vast number of
cavalry horse lines near the town the
trouble of flies is becoming really dis
tressing. It only wants a definite source
of infection to be introduced for an epi
demic to run rampant.
"A fly should be looked upon as noth
ing but a spreader of disease. When
once people realize what the fly can do
and docs do, the remedy is easy. Here
Is a work within the compass of the
humblest, a really great work. Fly
[ borne disease should cease to exist. Its
very existence is a discredit to the in
.clligence of the people."
Philosophy.
And there were four leprous men at the 1
entering In of the gate; and they said one
to another, why sit we here until we die?
If wo say, wo will enter into the city,
then the famine is In the city, and we
shall die there: and if we sit still here,
wo die also. Now, therefore, come, and
let us fall unto the host of the Syrians:
if they save us alive, we shall live: and
if they kill us, we shall but die.—II Kings
vii, 3 and 4.
America.
Oh, mother of a. mighty race,
Yet lovely in thy youthful grace;
The elder dames, thy haughty peers,
Admire and hate thy blooming years.
With words of shame
And taunts of scorn they join thy name.
For on thy cheeks the glow is Rpread
I'hat tints thy morning hills with red;
Thy step—the wild deer's rustling feet
Within thy woods are not more fleet;
Thy hopeful eye
is bright as thine own sunny sky.
Ay, let them rail—those haughty ones.
While safe thou dwellest with thy sons.
They do not know how loved thou art.
How many a fond and fearless heart
Would raise to throw
Its life between thee and the foe.
They know not. in their hate and pride.
What virtues with thy children bide;
How true, how good, thy graceful maids
Make bright, like flowers, graceful shades;
What generous men
Spring, like thin oaks, by hill and glen.
What cordial welcomes greet the guest
By thy lone rivers of the west;
How faith is kept, and truth revered.
And man is loved, and God Is feared,
In woodland homes,
And where the ocean border foams.
There's freedom nt thy gates and rest
For earth’s down-trodden and oppiest,
A shelter for the hunted head.
For the starved laborer toil ur.d bread.
Power, at thy bounds,
Stops and calls hack his baffled hounds.
Oh, fair young mother! on thy brow
Shall sit a nobler grace than now.
Deep in the brightness of the skies
The thronging years in glory rise.
And. as they fleet.
Drop strength and riches at thy feet.
Thine eve. with every coming hour.
Shall brighten, and thy form shall tower.
And when thv sisters cider horn
Would brand thy name with words of
scorn.
Before thine eye,
Upon their lips the taunt shall die.
—William Cullen Bryant.
Oh, Why Should the Spirit of Mortal
Be Proud?
They loved—but the story we cannot un
fold ;
They scorned—hut the heart of the
haughty Is ecftd;
They grieved—but no wail from their
slumbers will come;
They joyed—hut the tongue of their glad
ness is dumb.
They died—ah! they died; we, things that
are now,
That walk on the turf that lies over
their brow,
And make in their dwellings a transient
abode,
Meet the changes they met on their pil
grimage road.
'Tls the wink of an eye; 'tis the draught
of a breath.
From the blossom of health to the pale
ness of death.
From the gilded saloon to the bier and
the shroud;
O, why should the spirit of mortal be
proud? —William Knox.
Lincoln s Greatest Ambition.
In the “Interesting People” depart
ment of the American Magazine ap
pears an article about Russell H. Con
well, the famous Philadelphia speaker,
who has delivered one lecture over
5,000 times. In the course of the article
Mr. Oomvell tells as follows what Abra
ham Lincoln once said to him:
“ *No man ought to be ambitious to
be president of the United States;
when this war is over, and that won’t
be very long. I tell my Tad we will go
back to the farm where I was happier
as a boy when I dug potatoes aJl 25
cents per day than I am now. I teli
him I will buy him a mule and a pony,
and he shall have a little cart, and h*
shall make a little garden in a field of
his own.’ ”
4 THE HAPPY MAN. 4
4 +
4 Jeremy Taylor. 4
4 Said Eplcurius: **I feed sweetly 4
4 upon bread and water, those sweet 4
4 and easy provisions of the body, 4
4 and I defy the pleasures of costly 4
4 provisions,'’ and the man was so 4
4 confident that he had the advantage 4
4 over wealthy tables that he thought 4
4 himself happy as the immortal 4
4 gods; for these provisions are easy, 4
4 they are to be gotten without amaz- 4
4 ing cares; no man needs to flatter -4
4 if he can live as Nature did intend; 4
4 he need not swell his accounts and 4
4 intricate his spirit with arts of sub- 4
4 tlety and contrivance; he ran be 4
4 free from fears, and the changes 4
4 of the world cannot concern him. 4
4 All our trouble is from within us; 4
4 and if a dish of lettuce and a clear 4
4 fountain can cool all my heats, so 4
4 that I shall have neither thirst nor 4
4 pride, lust nor revenge, envy nor 4
4 ambition, l am lodged in the bosom 4
4 of felicity: and indeed no men sleep 4
4 so soundly as they that lay their 4
4 heads upon Nature’s lap. For a 4
4 single dish and a clean chalice, lift- 4
4 ed from the spring, can cure any 4
4 hunger and thirst; but the meat of 4
4 Ahasuerus and his feast cannot sat- 4
4 isfy my ambition and my pride. He 4
4 therefore that hath the fewest de- 4
4 sires and the most quiet passions. 4
4 whose wants are soon provided for. 4
4 and whose possessions cannot be 4
4 disturbed with violent fears—he that 4
4 dwells next door to satisfaction and 4
4 can carry his needs and law them 4
4 down where he pleases—this man is 4
4 the happy man: and thus Is not to 4
4 be done in great designs and swell- 4
[not a matter of'piety
Brother John Had His Own Reasons
for His Close Perusal of the
Scriptures.
The parson of a small country
church was rambling along the road
when it suddenly occurred to him to
call on a citizen named Jones, who
, was known to be rather indifferent
| about church attendance. The place
■ was soon reached, and entering the
garden gate the pastor was surprised
to see Jones sitting on the veranda
I with a large Bible in his hands.
“Ah, Brother Jones," said ‘he par
son with a smile of satisfac.ion, "I
am glad to see you so attentively per
using your Bible.”
“Yes,” responded Jones. “There
are times when it comes in mighty
handy.”
“Perhaps I might be able to he'p
you,” generously volunteered t >
dominie. “Were you looking a. i •
particular passage?”
“No,” was the startling reply if
Jones. “Twins have just come to r
house, and mother asked me i I
wouldn’t look up a couple c _.es
for ’em.”
Beyond Human Po6Sibility.
The monarch summoned General
Slammenberg, who had just crowned
his record with the capture of 962,
438 prisoners, 107 >4 guns and two
practical sides of beef.
“You have already received the Zinc
Triangle," said the monarch, "and 1
have conferred on you the order of
the Purple Gondola and the Singing
Squirrel. Can you suggest any fur
ther honor that our grateful nation
can bestow on you?"
The, general's eye was moist.
"Only one, your majesty,” he re
plied.
“When the folks at home name a
cigar after me, see that it is something
better than a five-center."
But the monarch stared hopelessly
into the gloaming. He knew that the
old warrior had asked the impossible
Hardly Likely.
Some time ago an elderly gentleman
was cycling down a narrow street in
Waterford, when a dog suddenly
rushed out from a doorway and, get
ting under his wheel, threw him on the
ground in a sitting position. The dog,
seeming to enjoy the situation, circled
round and round, barking playfully. A
boy who was passing at the time stood
staring at the performance for a few
minutes, and then asked in a quiet
tone:
"Did you fall, Mr. D-?”
"Of course I did," said Mr. D-,
angrily, while getting up and brushing
the dust off his clothes.
“Oh," replied the boy, as he strolled
away, "1 thought you couldn't have
sat down just to play with the dog."
What She Had She’d Hold.
It was the happiest moment of
their lives. He had just proposed,
and she had grab—er — accepted
him.
Then he took a tiny leather case
from his pocket and slipped a spar
kling circlet on her finger, while she
beamed with pride.
“I'm afraid it’s rather loose, dar
ling," he murmured. “Shall I take it
back and have it made smaller?”
The damsel shook her head decided- J
ly. 1
“No, Rupert," she said calmly. “An
engagement ring is an engagement
ring, even if I have to wear it arouni'
my neck."
T ruth.
Mrs. Exe—Here’s an invitation from
Mrs. Boreleigh to one of her tiresome
dinners. I hate them.
Exe—Why not plead that you have
a previous engagement?
Mrs. Exe—That would be a lie,
Edith, dear, write Mrs. Bareleigh that
we accept with pleasure.—Boston
Transcript.
Kind words never die, but the un
kind live quite long enough.
I
Very Absent-Minded.
In Berlin they tell the story a
very learned and also absont-mi .ed
professor who returned to his . >om
late one night, and as he was : ght- j
ing the candle fancied he he d a
noise. He promptly called out:
"Is there anyone herej”
A thief lay concealed under the bo.’!. I
Hearing the question, and knowing the
professor's failing, he shouted in reply.
"No!”
Then the professor exclaimed in
much surprise: "That's exceedingly
strange! I was positive someone was
under the bed." Then he retired to
rest and the thief ransacked the
room.
Badly Worded.
“Oh,.Jack, I expect I shall be awful
ly stupid now," said the young wife
when she returned from the dentist's
"How's that?” asked her husband, in
surprise.
"I’ve just had my wisdom teeth
pulled,” she mourned.
"Oh, dear one, the idea that wis
dom teeth have anything to do with
wisdom is quite absurd,” hubby rea
sured her. “If you had every tooth in
your head pulled it couldn't make you
a bit stupider than you are now, you
know.”
Next to Nothing.
“Why does your wife dry the clothes
in the cellar now? That isn’t healthy,
is it?”
"Dunno. To tell the truth, daugh
ter is wearing so little that mother is
ashamed to hang the stuff in the I
yard.”—Judge.
I
kL7
Many Positions
Carrying Large Salaries
are open today to men in every walk of life. But the
men must possess vigorous bodies and keen, active
minds.
Success-making mental and physical activity relies
largely upon right living wherein the right kind of food
plays a most vital part.
In many cases the daily diet lacks certain of Nature’s
elements essential to energizing and upbuilding the
mental and physical faculties. Most white flour prod"
ucts, such as white bread and many other commonly
used foods, are in that class.
A food especially designed to offset this lack—
Grape-Nuts
—made of wheat and malted barley, supplies all the
nutriment of the grains, including the mineral salts—
sturdy builders of brain, nerve and muscle.
Grape-Nuts is thoroughly processed, ready to serve
from the package, fresh, crisp and delicious. Then, too,
there’s a wonderful return of the power to “do” and to
“be” for the small energy required in its digestion.
After repeated set-backs thousands have found a
change to right eating means forging ahead.
“There’s a Reason” for Grape-Nuts
Sold by Grocers everywhere.