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The Man Who Forgot
A NOVEL
By JAMES HAY, JB.
r 'y* ~ 1 V ■ 1
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GARDEN CITY NEW YORK
DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY
1915
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“Oh, they talk about drink! The
only thing that really matters is
what it does to women! You see
what it’s done to me! Anyway,
he took me. And we met Jack
Garland there. We didn’t go to
very nice places. That’s how we
met him.” She indicated Smith
again. A great sob choked her.
“Oh, that awful country! There
are 10,000 different kinds of flow
ers there—and 10.000,000 different
kinds of sins.”
Edith brought her back to the'
story.
“Oh, tell me! Tell me about
Mr. Smith.”
“His name’s Garland,” she
said, as if she made a clumy ef
fort to keep the record straight.
“And one morning, down there in
v the opium joint, Charlie’s place—
the House with the Red-lacquered
Balcony, on the Foochow road—
he climbed out of his horrid bunk,
and he left us. But, before he left,
he talked to us. He said anybody
who wanted to go to ruin on opium
could do it, but he was through
with it. He said he would drink
whisky. He said he knew what
whisky would do to him, but no
body could tell what opium would
do? And he begged us to come
back to America. He said he was
going to work and get enough
money to come back. And he did
--he did!”
Her voice broke shrilly. Some
how, they all knew that, when she
had said that, she had put words
on the great tragedy, the poignant
grief, of all her life.
“What’s the use of putting.on
/ all this stuff ?” Simpson spoke un
easily. ‘ ‘ All three of us were-- ’ ’
“Be quiet!” Smith silenced him
sternly.
ine agitator naa stooa leaning
slightly forward, his lips a little
parted, his eyes always on the Les
lie woman. Little beads of mois
ture stood out on his forehead. He
was making a terrific effort to re
member—-a conscious, directed,
systematic effort into which he
tiirew all his strength. If a real
curtain had hung behind him, he
could have put out his hand and
torn it apart. He wondered in a
dizzy, whirling w'ay why he could
not make his brain obey him in
the same manner, compel it to go
through the curtain of darkness
that hid his past from him.
The plash of the fountain in the
court and the singing of the thous
ands came through the open win
dow.
“Go on!” Edith urged Mary
again.
“And afterward we came
back,” the slow, flat voice went
on. She indicated Simpson. “He
ran against him in some charity
house somewhere in the west and
recognized hira-r-but Jack Gar
land, Mr. Smith, couldn’t recog
nize anybody. He’d lost his mem
ory. Then Simpson—you people
call him Simpson — lost sight of
him until we happeflgdJ,o_sgme to
Washington'. And they—they of
fered us money to do — what we
did do. I think he—Simpson—
fixed it up, and they accepted it.”
‘ ‘ Garland — Charlie’s place —
Virginia,” Smith repeated the
words, oblivious to the presence of
others. They could see howr he
searched the chambers of his mind,
how he tried to overleap the
things that shut off the corridors
of his memory. His whole body
was tensed, like that of a man
about to spring forward. His
clenched hands were thrust hard
against his thighs. He looked al
ways at the Leslie woman. “I
don’t—I can’t remember,” he
, said.
At last she raised her eyes to
meet his.
“You used to talk a lot about
your home,” she said. “You used
"to say lovely things,” Her un
measured bitterness twisted her
lips again. “You told me once that
my hair was blacker than a night
unshot by a single star. And you
used to talk about when your
mother died.”
“My mother is dead?” he asked,
dazed. He was letting each idea
that she gave him play with all its
y possible force on his mentality.
m “And about the perfume of the
\ roses—the red roses.”
Whether she had wished it or
not, she was governed by a desire
to help liljn. The suffering that
drew him ^up to his tiptoes and
.-I--, r1
25 |
held him trembling before her
was irresistible.
“You were dotty about flowers.
You used to tell us about a field
you loved. You said you loved it
in the spring. You said in the
spring it was nothing but green
velvet crusted with dandelion
gold. You said that the morning
you left us in Charlie’s place. You
said you wanted to go back and
walk barefooted through the pow
dered gold. You said you had
done that when you were a bare
footed boy.”
“Ah!” The agitator made the
exclamation a ’note of anguish
that was terrible to hear.
They—the Leslie woman and
the others—watched him. He
crouched farther forward, his
eyes closed. His right arm shot
out from his side at right angles
to his body, the palm of his hand
out and the fingers open as if he
tried to lean on something. His
left arm went up slow’ly, crooked,
and hid his face. For a long mo
ment he kept that position. Then,
very slowly, he lifted his head, a
fraction of an inch at a time, until
only his forehead and his eyes,
open now’, were visible above the j
forearm that screened his face.
There was in his eyes a look of
w’onder—wonder which just es
caped being fear.
“I think,” he said hoarsely, “I
think I shall see.”
He swept the circle of their faces
with his glace. Edith’s eyes caught
his gaze and held it.
“The barefoot boy!” he whis
pered, the wonder still in his eyes.
“How clean he is—how marvel
lous!”
He stood erect, his arms drop
ping to his sides, his ardent gaze
still upon Edith. He smiled ten
derly. And, suddenly, he stood
before them again as they had
know n him, with all his power, all
his strength, all the charm of his
brilliant personality full upon him.
Outside there was the sound of
a hymn from 1,000 throats.
Edith put out both her hands, as
if she prayed.
“Ah!” she cried. “You remem
ber! You remember!”
He went to her in one swift
stdp and took her hands. She
could feel his tremendous elation
vibrant in his fingers. His thought,
his concern, was for her alone. She
was very pale.
“I do,” he said, his voice clear
and strong. For him, the others
did not exist. “And I am glad I
remember. Do — you — under
stand * ’ ’
Her gaze clung to his, and sf lit
tle color, like the beginnings of a
pink rose, came back to her face.
He let her hands go, and turned
to the Leslie woman, who sat
staring up to him.
“It’s all right, Mary,” he said
gently. “You have been very kind
—very kind.”
He turned again to Edith.
“There is,” he said, caressing
her with the words, “so much I
have to tell you.”
They wrnlked to the window7 and
looked out at the fountain. The
roar from the crowd w7as louder.
There was in it a new note, like ex
ultation.
The others left the room.
‘1 My soul has come back to me, ’ ’
he said, taking both her hands in
his.
“And it is a beautiful soul,
isn’t it?” she whispered.
She leaned closer to him, so that
he caught the fragrance of her
hair.
“There is nothing,” he an
swered, drawing her closer still,
“to keep me from you.”
The voice of the crowd could be
mistaken no longer. The thous
ands were exulting!
“And everything-” she be
gan, but did not finish the sen
tence.
Cholliewollie, jubilant, wild
with joy, had flung open the door
and catapulted himself into the
• room.
“We’ve won! We’ve won!” lie
shouted. “They’ve run the white
ribbon up the flagpole! Two-third
majority—and a lot to spare--’”
He stopped abruptly.
“Say,” he concluded a little
lamely, “what’s up?”
The agitator smiled brilliantly.
“Old fellow,” he answered af
feetionately, “we’ve won both
fights.”
Edith held out her hand.
“Congratulate us,” she invited.
“We’re going to take a trip. We
want to find a field powdered
with dandelion gold.”
THE END.
NEW FLAG ADDED TO
ENTENTE STANDARDS
Koritza, Albania. — (Correspondence
of the Associated Press).—A new flag,
the flag of the new "Republic of the
Skipetars" has made its appearance
among the standards of the entente al
lies along the Albanian-Macedonian
front. It is the old standard of tlie
Scandenbergs, of red with a black two
headed eagle and the little army of 750
men of the republic of the Spiketars,
composed of six companies are light
ing under it at the front by the side of
the Senegalese and colonial cavalry,
that compose the French occupying
force in this district. The new banner
already lias received its baptism of
blood. Fivfe hundred men of the new
republic aided the French to repulse
a sharp attack by Albanian tribes oper
ating with the Austrian regular troops
at Moscopol.
Thus far the new republic includes
only the city of Koritza with a popu
lation of 38,000 and the surrounding
region, comprising altogether about
90,000 inhabitants. It Is located In that
part of Albania in which the longing
for liberty and tranquility has been
most developed through repeated pil
laging by neighboring Albanians and
continual oppression by foreigners.
The Albanians, accustomed to sum
mary and primitive means of adminis
tration and justice are taking to re
publican ideas, and the parliamentary
regime, and considerable unsuspected
oratorical talent has been discovered
in this land where powder only has
talked heretofore.
The idea of forming the Skipetar re
public is due to Colonel Descoins, com
manding the French forces stationed
here. When he assumed command of
the post he called all the notables of
the town together and talked to them
in this vein;
“Skipetars, my friends, until Decem
ber 1912 you suffered under Turkish
regime: in May, 1913, it was the Greek
army that mistreated you; then until
March 1914, you became familiar with
the inconveniences of Greek civil ad
ministration; in July, 1914, it was the
noxious buffoonery of Prince de Wied
that was imposed upon you; in Decem
ber, 1915, it was again the Greek mili
tary occupation; in October, 1916, it
was the Greek royalist civil adminis
tration, and in November, 1916, the
Venezellst, followed in December by
the French military occupation with
Greek civil authorities. You ought to
have enough of all these experiments,
and I have a very simple suggestion to
make to you. Why don’t you govern
yourselves? You are Albanians. Be Al
banians, then, and nothing else. Cease
all intrigues and occupy yourselves
with your own self government. French
troops are here to defend the terri
tory, that’s all. Be honest men, I’ll be
the gendarme.”
This plain talk appealed to the
Skipetars, who at once formed a re
public with a parliament of 14 mem
bers and a president whose tenure of
office is a fortnight.
Prosperity has come in with the re
public. A coal mine at Koutza is be
ing exploited and. aided by the military
authorities, the Skipetar government is
preparing to develop copper and iron
ore deposits, declared by engineers to
be rich and extensive.
Johnnycake!
From the Madison State Journal.
We’re eatin' Johnnycake these days,
several times a week; and Oh. Boy!
Don’t understand how we ever let the
Johnnycake habit of our childhood get
away from us.
We advise you, Mr. Man and you Mrs.
Woman, to get the Johnnycake habit, too.
There’s something about the good, goM
en corn bread that you’ll never get in
white bread, or rye.
There's a roughness to the tongue and
the palate that, the diet experts tell us.
puts roughness in the bone and sinew of
the human chap—such roughness, or ro
bustness. as we need these days.
But you don’t need that excuse to wor
ship before the shrine of Johnnycake—
good old Johnnycake, like mother used to
make.
Phoney Stuff.
“Hello! Give me Main, one, trlppie
ought.”
“I beg pardon?”
“Didn't you get It? One zero, zero, zero,
Main.”
"I don't understand you.”
“I want Main, one double nought,
nought.”
•What?”
“One thousand Main. Ten hundred.
Main. Now do you get it?”
"Oh. you mean Main. one. ought, dou
ble ought. Why didn’t you say so? Line’s
busy.”
FRENCH EDUCATOR
WITH MISSION HERE
J
£, 4 VV/A/ «*V->
Capt. Robert Dupouey.
Capt. Robert Dupouey, secretar
of the allies’ scientific commissioi
which has just reached this country,
was professor of romancj languages
I in a California university for sev
eral years anti has been an exchange
professor in Harvard and the Uni
; versity of Pennsylvania. Before the
war he was professor of literature in
j tiif Paris Lycee.
But Not it Home.
The man next door was repairing a
chewed-up Inner tube belonging to his
auto tire equipment. George was
watching him. The man laboriously
pumped and sweated and fumed and
fretted as he worked. He was glad
of one thing. He was not out on some
lonely, dusty, country road. At last he
was through.
“George,” he asked, as he rested in
the “shade of the old apple tree,” “does
your father ever have any old tire
trouble?”
“Yes," answered honest George, “hut
he never fixes any of them at home.”
CUTICURA HEALS SORE HANDS
That Itch, Burn, Crack, Chap and
Bleed—Trial Free.
In a wonderfully short time in most
cases these fragrant, ■ super-creamy
emollients succeed. Soak hands on re
tiring in the hot suds of Cuticura Soap,
dry and rub Cuticura Ointment into
the hands for some time. Remove sur
plus Ointment with soft tissue paper.
Free sample each by mall with Book.
Address postcard, Cuticura, Dept. L,
Boston. Sold everywhere.—Adv.
Willing to Be Good.
Albert Chevalier tells the follow
ing:
“One night,” remarked the famous
comedian, “In a certain music hall
where there was a notoriously bad
orchestra, the manager suddenly ap
peared on the stage and apologized
for the absence of a favorite comic
singer whose name was a great fea
ture.
“The manager explained that he had
every reason to believe that the artist
In question would positively appear
later on; and then, by way of throw
ing oil on troubled waters, suggested,
in order to avoid a wait, that the audi
ence should be favored with a little
music.
“As he announced this, a pathetic
voice In the gallery was heard:
“Oh, I soy, Mr. Manager, we'll be
good if yer don’t let the band play!”
| ANY CORN LIFTS OUT,
| DOESN’T HURT A BIT! 1
! — \
i No foolishness! Lift your corns j
j and calluses off with fingers— f
i It’s like magic! |
Sore corns, hard corns, soft corns or
any kind of a corn, can harmlessly be
lifted right out with the lingers if you
apply upon the corn a few drops of
freezone, says a Cincinnati authority.
For little cost one can get a small
bottle of freezone at any drug store,
which will positively rid one’s feet of
every corn or callus without pain.
This simple drug dries the moment
It Is applied and does not even irri
tate the surrounding skin while ap
plying it or afterwards.
This announcement will interest
many of our readers. If your druggist
hasn’t any freezone tell him to surely
get a small bottle for you from his
wholesale drug house.—adv.
Complex.
Mrs. Wayup—Where did Mrs. De
Style get her new Easter hat?
Mrs. lilnse—That's a problem. She
bought it with the money which her
husband borrowed from her uncle, who
won it In a poker game from her broth
er, to whom she had loaned it shortly
after her mother had taken it from
her father’s pockets and given It to
her for a birthday present.—Life.
Some kinds of love may grow cold,
but the kind a man has for himself
never does.
ffoo 6kk
9o XOcrk
Many Women in this Condition Re
gain Health by Taking Lydia E.
Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound.
Convincing Proof of This Fact.
Ridgway, Penn. — “1 suffered from female
trouble with backache and pain in my side for over
seven months so I could not do any of my work. I
was treated by three different doctors and was
getting discouraged when my sister-in-law told me
how Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound had
helped her. I decided to try it, and it restored my
health, so I now do all of my housework which is
not light as I have a little boy three years old.*
•—Mrs. O. M. Rhines, Ridgway, Penn.
Mrs. Lindsey Now Keeps House For Seven.
Tennille, Ga.—“I want to tell you how much I have been benefited
by Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound. About eight years ago I
got in such a low state of hoalth I was unable to keep house for three in
the family. I had dull, tired, dizzy feelings, cold feet and hands nearly
all the time and could scarcely sleep at all. The doctor said I had a
severe case of ulceration and without an operation I would always
be an invalid, but I told him I wanted to wait awhile. Our druggist
advised my husband to get Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound
and it has entirely cured me. Now I keep house for seven and work
in the garden some, too. I am so thankful I got this medicine. I feel
as though it saved my life and have recommended it to others and
they have been benefited”.- -Mrs. W. E. Lindsey,R. R. 3,Tennille, Ga.
If you want, special advice write to Lydia E. Pinkbam Medi
cine Co. (confidential) Lynn, Mass. Your letter will be opened,
read and answered by a woman and bold in strict confidence.
CURIOUS FEARS OF SOLDIERS
One Dreads That His Charcoal Burner
Will Be Destroyed Although In
different as to Himself.
It Is extraordinary what curious
fours some soldiers have. One fighter
always dreads that his charcoal tire
will be destroyed by a shell. He ul
ways iduces the burner in Hie most
protected part of the trench, hut re
mains quite indifferent in regard to
ids own personal safety.
Another extraordinary fear of a sol
dier at the front is that of having his
bootlaces untied. Nothing else has
terrors for him. from bayonet fighting
to asphyxiating gases. But he Is quite
certain that if his bootlaces are loose
he will trip over lliein and break his
ncclc. He always examines 'liis laces
to see If they are properly fastened.
Another soldier who has been through
the thick of the fighting is terribly
frightened of going through a wood,
and would rather walk miles round It
than half a mile through it. He lias
the fear that some day a tree will sud
denly fall end crush him.
Many soldiers have a horror of los
ing their identity disks, or of being
unidentified if they are killed, and
buried in a nameless grave. One man
is known to carry little scraps of paper
in every pocket, giving Ills mime and
regiment, so that his body may be rec
ognized if lie is killed.
Swedish Drill.
They were In the squad under train
ing at a certain military center who
furnished a contrast not uncommon
these days. One was tall and wiry,
the other short and puffy, and an hour
of Swedish drill had set the lesser of*
the two to blowing hard.
“I can't stand much of this.” he
whispered. “I’m simply all out," and
at that moment the drill sergeant in
timated that lie would give them an
other spell before they dismissed.
This was too much. The podgy pa
triot felt It was time to protest.
“I'm really awfully sorry to seem un
iuilitary in addressing you, sir,” he
j said, "but this Swedish drill is more
than T can face in my present condi
tion; besides,” he added, dolefully. “I
never knew we were at war with Swe
den.”
Point of Ownership.
“Let me drive a while. Half of this
car is mine.”
“Didn't you agree to take the rear
half and let me have the front half?”
“Yes.”
“Well?”
. “Well, the steering wheel belongs
to the front half, and that gives me
the right to drive all the time.”
Its Style.
“The anti-trust laws of the future ,
will have teeth.”
“Humph! You must mean that for
biting sarcasm.”
| Exact Copy of Wrapper.
ChildrenCry For
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For more than thirty years it has been in constant use for the
relief of Constipation, Flatulency, Wind Colic and Diarrhoea;
allaying Feverishness arising therefrom, and by regulating the
Stomach and Bowels, aids the assimilation of Food; giving
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GENUINE CASTORIA ALWAYS
y^ Bears the Signature of
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The Kind You Have Always Bought
THE CENTAUR COMPANY. NEW YOAK CITV,
- T' “
