ONE NEIGHBOR TELLS ANOTHER Points the Way to Comfort and Health. Other Women Please Read Moundsville, W. Va.—“I fiad taken doctor’s medicine for nearly two years because my periods were irregular, came every two weeks, and I would suffer with bearing-down pains. A lady told me of Lydia E. Fink | ham’s Vegetable Compound and how much good it had done her daughter, so I took it and now I am regular every month and have no pain at all. I recommend your medi cine to everyone and you may publish my testimonial, hoping that the Vege table Compound does some other girl the good it has done me. ”—Mrs.George Tegarden. 915 Third Street, Mounds ville, W. Va. How many young girls suffer as Mrs. Tegarden did and do not know where to turn for advice or help. They often are obliged to earn their living by toiling day in and day out no matter how hard the pain they have to bear. Every girl who puffers in this way should try Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound and if she does not got prompt relief write to the Lydia E. Pinkham Medicine Co., Lynn, Massachusetts, about her health. Such letters are hgld in strict confi dence. SOMEWHAT HARD TO BELIEVE Pointed Comment From the Audience Would 8eem to Be Justified Un der the Circumstances. An earnest young man from a col *go settlement was addressing a com pany of fathers and mothers In the ilums of Chicago on the subject of •Christmas In the Home,” telling '.hem of the wnys In which the day night he made bright although money vas not plentiful. He had wlslted nnny houses In many cities and was veil Informed. “I'm not talking about what other people*have told me," he said genial ly : “It's whnt I know from my person ii experience. I have seen over u lundred Christmas celebrations and “Me dear young man,” came In a rich Irlsh-Aroericnn voice from the rear of the room. “It’s wonderfully preserved ye are for a man that old!" —Philadelphia ledger. Honest, at Any Rate. “Am I the first girl yon ever loved?” “No, dearie. But I came to this resort with $.‘100 saved up. I’ll cheer fully buy you Ice cream and candy until I’ve spent my wad.'V-LoulsvlUe Courier-Journal. Aging. Uncle (meeting little niece)—So you have already started In to go to school, Edna? Edna—Yes; one Is gettln; old, you know. Paridoxlcal. “Her face was fairly blazing." “Yes, and It was blazing because she was put out.”—Baltimore Ameri ca a. What Did He Want? Knlcker—“Saint Swlthlu Is a wet saint." .Booker—"But he brings noth ing hut water."—New York Sun. The woman who weds a “had egg” need not expect to llud the tnutl’i inoniul yoke pleasant Any man who claims to know It all will have Ids contention admitted hy thousands. EASY TO KILL RATS and MICE U«ln» (ha ■enuiaa V ■_ READY FOR USE -BETTER TIIAN TRAPS 1)1 motions l n 16 languages t n every bo*. Rats. Mice. Cockroaches. Ante and Waterboga Bcstroy food and property and are carriers of disease Bt earns Hlectrlo Panto forces these pests to run from the bonding for water and frenh air 860 and IlfiO. “Money back If It faUa." IT. 8. Government buy* It. DURHAM tobacco makes 50 flood cigarettes for -r || THE ENCHANTED BARN | copyright 1918, by J. B. Llpplncott Co. MU_m She drifted off to sleep again, and it was late when she awoke the next time. A silvery bell from the little white church in the valley was ringing and echo ing distantly. Sabbath, real Sabbath, seemed brooding hap pily in the very air. Shirley got up and dressed hastily. She felt as if she had already lost too much of this first wonderful day in the country. A thrush was spilling his liquid notes in the tree overhead when she tiptoed into her mother’s room. Doris opened her eyes and looked in wonder, then whis pered softly: “Vat is dat, Sirley? Vat is dat pitty sound?” “^Y birdie in the tree, dearie!” whispered Shirley. “A weel budie! I yantta see it! Take Doris up, Shirley!” So Shirley lifted the little maiden, wrapped a shawl about'* her, and carried her softly to the window, where she looked up in wonder and joy. The boys came tumbling down from their loft in a few minutes, and there was no inoro sleep to be had. Carol was up and out, and the voice of one or the other of them was continually raised in a shout of triumph over some new delight. I saw a fish in the brook I shouted Harley under his moth er’s window. “It was only a little fellow, but maybe it’ll grow bigger some day, and .then we can fish!” “You silly 1” cried George. “It was a minnow. Minnows don’t grow to be big. They’re only good for bait!” “Hush, George, there’ a nest in the big tree. I’ve been watch ing and the mother bird is sitting on it. That was the father bird singing a while ago.” This from Carol. George, Harley, and Carol de clared their intention of going to church. That had likely been the first bell that rang, their mother told them, and they would have plenty of time to get there if they hurried. It was only half-past nine. Country churches rang a bell then, and another at 10, and the final bell at half-past 10, probably. Possibly they had Sunday school at 10. Anyhow, they could go and find out. It wouldn’t matter if they were a little late the first time. So they ate some breakfast in a hurry, took each a sandwich left from the night before, crossed the road, climbed the fence, and went joyously over the green fields to church, think ing how much nicer it was than walking down a brick paved street, past the same old grimy houses to a dim, artificially lighted church. Shirley took a survey of the larder, decided that roast chick en, potato croquets, and peas would all warm up quickly, and, as there was plenty of ice cream left and some cakes, they would fare royally without any work; so she sat beside her mother and told the whole story of her ride, the finding of the barn, her visit to the Graham office, and all that transpired until the present umc. The mother listened, ■watching her child, but said no word of her inner thoughts. If it occurred to her that her oldest daughter was fair to look upou, aud that her winning ways, sweet, unspoiled face and wistful eyes had some what to do with the price of their summer’8 abode, it would be no wonder. But she did not mean to ! trouble her child further. She j would investigate for herself ! when opportunity offered. So j she quieted all anxieties Shirley might have had about her sanc tion of their selection of a home, kissed Shirley, and told her she felt it in her bones she was going to get well right away. And, indeed, there was much in the fact of the lifting of the burden of anxiety concerning where they should live that went to brighten the eyes of the in i valid and strengthen her heart. When the children came home from church Shirley wras putting dinner ou the table, aud her mother was arrayed in a pretty kimono, a relie of their better days, and ready to be helped to the couch and wheeled out to the dining-room. It had been pleas ant to see the children coming across the green meadow in the distance, and get things all ready for them when they rushed in hungry. Shirley was so happy she felt like crying 10 After the dinner things were washed,they shoved the couch into the living room among the flowers, where George had built a beautiful fire, for it was still chilly. The children gathered around their mother and talked, making plans for the summer, telling about the service they had attended, chattering like so many magpies. The mother lay and watched them and was content. Sometimes her eyes would search the dim, mellow rafters over head, and glance along the stone walls, and she would say to her self : ‘ ‘ This is a barn! I am liv ing in a barn! My husband’s children have come to this, that they have no place to live but a barn!” She was testing herself to see if the thought hurt her. But, looking on their happy faces, somehow she could not feel sad. ■ J “Children,” she said sudden ly in one of the little lulls of conversation, “do you realize that Christ was born in a stable? It isn’t so bad to live in a barn. ' We ought to be very thankful for this great splendid one!” , ( “Oh mother, dear! It is so beautiful of you to take it that 1 way!” cried Shirley with tears ' in her eyes. “Doris, you sing your little song about Jesus in the stable,” said Carol. “I’ll play it for you.” 1 Doris, nothing loath, got a little j stool, stood up beside her moth er’s couch, folded her small hands demurely, and began to ; sirig without waiting for accom paniment: “Away In a manger, No trlb for His head, The litta Lord Jesus ] . Lay down His sveet head. The tars in tho haaven Look down vhere ’e lay— ' The litta Lord Jesus As’eep in the hay. "The catta are lowing, The poor baby wates; But the litta Lord Jesus No cwyln’ He mates. I love Thee, Lord Jesus; Look down fum tho sky. An’ stay by my trlb. Watching my lul-la-by!” i 1 Shirley kissed Doris, and then ; they began to sing other things, i all standing around the piano. ] By and by that distant bell from ' the valley called again. “There’s a vesper service at 5 , o’clock. Why don’t you go, ] Shirley? You and George and t Harley,” said Carol. “Me ’ant do too!” declared i Doris earnestly, and it was fin- < ally decided that the walk would t not be too long; so the boys, i Shirley and the baby started off across the fields, while Carol i stayed with her mother. And ; this time Mrs. Hollister heard i all about Elizabeth and how she i wanted Carol to come and see her ! sometime. Heard, too, about the i proposed dance, and its quiet ' squelching by the brother. Heard, ' and looked thoughtful, and won- < dered more. “Mother is afraid they are not 1 quite our kind of people, dear!” she said gently. “You mustn’t get your heart bound up in that 1 girl. She may be very nice, but she’s a society girl and you are not, you know. It stands to rea son she will have other interests pretty soon, and then you will be disappointed when she forgets all about you.” &ne won t lorget, niotner, i know she won’t! ” declared Carol stoutly. “She’s not that kind. She loves me; shu told me so. She wanted to put one of her rings on my finger to ‘hind our friend ship,’ only I wouldn’t let her till I had asked you, because I didn’t have any but grandmother’s to give her, and I couldn’t give her that.” “That was right, dear. You ean’t begin things like that. You would find a great many of them, and we haven’t the money to keep up with a little girl who has been used to everything.” Carol’s face went down. Tears began to come in her eyes. “Can't we have even friends t” she said, turning her face away to hide the quiver in her lip, and the tears that, were rolling down her cheeks. “Yes, dear,” said the mother sorrowfully, “but don’t choose them from among another peo ple. People who can’t possibly have much in common with us It is sure to hurt hard when there are differences in station like that.” “But I didn’t choose them. They chose us!” declared Carol. “Elizabeth just went wild over us the first time she saw us, and her brother told Shirley he was "lad, that it would do Elizabeth a lot of good to know us. He said, ‘We’ve learned a lot of things from you already;’ just like that, he said it! I was com ing down the stairs behind them when they stood here talking one day, and I couldn’t help hearing them.” “Yes?” said Mrs. Hollister thoughtfully. “Well, perhaps, but, dear, go slow and don’t pin pour heart to a friendship like that, for it will most likely be lisappointing. Just be happy in ivhat she has done for us already, and don’t expect anything more. She may never come again. It nay just have been a passing vhim. And I don’t want you to je always looking for her and always disappointed. ’ ’ “I shall not be disappointed, namma,” said Carol decidedly. ‘You’ll see!” and her face lightened. Then as If to make good her vords a big car came whirring ip the road and stopped in front >f the barn, and almose before ihe could get to the window to ook out Carol heard Elizabeth’s ^oice calling softly: ‘ ‘ Carol I Car-roll 1 Are yoai here?” and she flung the door >pen and rushed into her new riend’s arms. Graham came more slowly up he incline, smiling apologetically md hoping he didn’t intrude, ioming so soon. Carol led them over to the in valid and introduced her friend, tnd the young man came after hem. ^ ^ T n in wntlirvn CIAATI o obey your summons, Mrs. Hol ister,” he said engagingly, “but ilizabeth couldn’t stand it with >ut coming over to see if you •eally found the ice-cream freez ;r, so I thought we’d just drop in ’or a minute and see whether you vere quite comfortable.” Somehow, suddenly, Mrs. Hol ister’s fears and conclusions con seming these two young people jegan to vanish, and in spite of ler she felt just as Shirley had lone, that they were genuine in heir kindness and friendship, larol, watching her, was satis fied, and a glow of triumph hone in her eyes. Nevertheless, drs. Hollister gathered her cau ion about her as a garment, and n dignified and pleasat phrases hanked the two in such a way hat they must see that neither ihe nor her children would ever iresumo upon what had been lone for them, nor take it for nore than a passing kindness. But to her surprise the young nan did not seem to be more than lalf listening to her words. He leemed to be studying her face vith deep intention that was al nost embarrassing. The soft col >r stole into her thin cheeks, and ;he stopped speaking and looked it him in dismay. “I beg your pardon,” he said, leeing her bewilderment, “but mu can’t understand perhaps low interested I am in you. I im afraid I have been guilty of taring. You see it is simply tmazing to me to find a woman if your refinement and evident mlture and education who is mntent—I might even say joy :ul—to live in a barn! I don’t mow another woman who would ie satisfied. And you seem to lave brought up all your chil Ireii with just such happy, idaptable natures, that it is a *reat puzzle to me. I—-I—why, [ feel sort of rebuked! I feel hat you and your children are unong the great of the earth. r\ 1.1 1 _ T7M : ~ „ .1 L/V/U U tit CV IX XV X^Ll/iUUVklt »UV4 *‘»v ’or the little we have been able ;o do toward making this barn labitable. It was a sort of—I night say homage, due to you, diat we were rendering. And low please don’t think anything nore about it. Let’s just talk as f we were friends—that is, if you ire willing to accept a couple of humble strangers among your! ist of friends.” ‘‘Why, surely, if you put it that way!” smiled the little woman. ‘‘Although I’m sure I don’t know what else we could do but be glad and happy over it that we had a barn like this to some to under a sweet blue sky, with a bird and a tree thrown in, when we literally didn't know where we could afford to lay our heads. You know beg gars shouldn’t be choosers, but I’m sure one would choose a spacious. place like this any day in preference to most of the or dinary city houses, with their tiny dark rooms, and small breathless windows.” ‘‘Even if ’twas called a barn?” ‘‘Even if ’twas called a barn!” said the woman with a flitting dance in her eyes that reminded him of the girl Shirley. • “Well, I'm learning a lot, I tell you!” said the young man. “The more I see of you all, the more I learn. It’s opened my eyes to a number of things in my life that I’m going to set right. By the way, is Miss Hollister here? I brought over a book I was telling her about the other day. I thought she might tike to see it.” “She went over to the vesper service at the little church across the fields. They’ll be coming home soon, I think. It must bo nearly over.” He looked at his watch. “Suppose I take the car and bring them back. You stay here, Elizabeth. I’ll soon be back. I think I can catch them around the road if I put on speed.” He was off, and the mother lay on the couch watching the two girls and wishing with all her heart that it were so that her children might have these two fine young people for friends. But of course such things could not very well be in this world of stern realities and multitudinous conventionalities. What, for in stance, would be said in the so cial set to which the Grahams belonged if it were known that some of their intimate friends lived in a barn? No, such things did not happen even in books, and the mother lay still and sighed. She heard the chatter of the two girls. “You’re coming home with me to stay over Sunday pretty soon. Sidney said he would fix it all up with your mother pretty soon. We’ll sleep together and have the grandest times. Mother likes me to have friends stay with me, but most of the girls I know are on at uoarumg scuuui now, anu I’m dreadfully lonesome. We have tennis court and golf links and a bowling alley. Do you play tennis? And we can go out in the car whenever we like. It’s going to be grand. I’ll show you my dog and my pony I used to ride. He’s getting old now, and I’m too big for him, but I love him just the same. I have a saddle horse, but I don’t ride much. I’d rather go motoring with Sid-•” And so she rattled on, and the mother sighed for her little girl who was being tempted by a new and beautiful world, and had not the wherewithal to enter it, even if it were possible for her to do so. Out in the sunset the car was speeding back again with the seats full, Doris chirping glee fully at the ride, for her fat legs had grown very weary with the long walk through the meadow and Shirley had been almost sorry she had taken her along. The boys were shouting all sorts of questions about dogs and chickens and cars and a garden, and Graham was answering them all good-humoredly, now and then turning around to throw back a pleasant sentence and a smile at the quiet girl with the happy eyes sitting in the back seat with her arm around her lit tle sister. There was nothing notable about the ride to remember. It was just one of those beautiful bits of pleasantness that fit into the msaic of any growing friend ship, a bit of color without which the whole is not perfect. Shirley ’s part in it was small. She said little and sat listening happily to the boys’ conversation with Graham. She had settled it with ViAaitf mArninff flint, slip and the young man on that front seat had nothing in future to do with each other, but it was pleas ant to see him sitting there talk ing with her brothers. There was no reason why she should not be glad for that, and glad he was not a snob. For every time she looked on his clean, frank face, aud saw his nice gray eyes upon her, she was surer that he was not a snob. The guests stayed a little while after they all got back, and ac cepted quite as a matter of course 'the dainty little lunch that Carol aud Elizabeth, slipping away un observed, prepared and brought in on trays—some of the salad left from dinner, some round rolls that Shirley had brought out with her Saturday, cut in two aud crisply toasted, cups of delicious cocoa, and little cakes. That was all, but it tasted fine, aud the two self-invited guests enjoyed it hugely. Then they all ranged themselves around the piano and sang hymns, and it is safe to say that the guests at least had not spent as ‘ Sabbathy ’ a Sabbath in all their lives. Eliz abeth was quite astonished when she suggested that they sing a popular song to have Carol an swer in a polite but gently re proving tone, “Oh, not today, you know.”__ (To B« Continued Next Weet) HIKE SMALL HELD BE SLEUTH HIDESMilES? _ Brophy Declares He Has Cap tured Missing Theatrical Magnate and Will Claim $50,000 Reward. Des Moines, la., Aug. 15.—John O’Malley, a newspaper man who assisted in the search for Am- -- brose J. Small when he disap peared from Toronto in 1919, said Sunday night the invalid here does not fill Small’s description. He said he was satisfied it was a case of mistaken identity. Des Moines, la., Aug. 15.— Twelve pictures of a man believed to be Am broee J. Small, missing theatrical magnate, were rushed to Toronto Sunday night for identification. The man is in custody of John J. Brophy, head of the Brophy Detective agency. Brophy said he would not reveal all the details of the strange case until he learned whether the Toronto au thorities were ready to pay him the $50,000 reward offered for Small's re covery. “The Man Is Small.” "The man is Small,” said Brophy, "I know a big reward has- been of fered for him and I’m. not going to give anybody a chance to say the re ward does not belong to me.” Two months ago, according to Bro phy, two strangers brought the man to a private home in Dee Moines, furnished money for medical attention and his care and departed. Since then Brophy said he has had the man un der surveillance*. A photographer was admitted to the Invalid’s room Sunday and 12 pho tographs were taken. These were rushed to Toronto under special de livery mail. It was expected rela tives of Mr. Small would come to Des Moines if they were able to iden tify the pictures as those of the mis sing millionaire. mail rtuilins nbb iuciii. Detective Brophy, who is assisted by Frank Harty, formerly of the Ded Moines police force, said the man had admitted he believed he remem bered the accident in which he lost his legs. From questions’, usually* ans wered with a nod or a shake of the head, the stranger revealed he was on his way east from the Pacific with the disappearance of the millionaire. SMALL’S WIFE SCOUTS STORY HE IS FOUND Toronto, Aug. 15. — Reports that Ambrose Small, the theatrical mag- _ nate who disappeared nearly two years ago, has been located in Des Moines. Ia.. were accorded scant Cre dence by Mrs. Small Sunday. The wife of the missing millionaire said she regarded the rumors as merely others of the many false re ports she has received since her hus band vanished. EX-W[FEJN CELL Burch's Father Also Arrives And Plans for Defense With Madalynne’s For mer Husband. Los Angeles, Aug. IB. — Ralph B. Obenojiain, divorced husband of Mrs. Madalynne Obenchain, reached Los Angeles Sunday. His first visit was to the home of his mother, Mrs. E. E. Smart. Mrs. Obenchain was recovering from a nervous collapse suffered late g'aturday night when told her former husband had reached Los Angeles. "I wish he would hurry and come to me,” she said when told Mr. Oben chain had gone to see his mother. Later Mr. Obenchain visited the sheriff's office, where he applied for permission to see his former wife. The sheriff did not readily grant the request, explaining there was a rule against admission of men to the wom en’s department, but he later con sented. The meeting between Obenchain and his former wife was in secret. What transpired is not known. He refused to comment except to say she was innocent. Rev.. Wiliam A. Burch, father of Arthur C. Burch, arrived on the same train with Mr. Obenchain. He W'ent directly to the county jail and had a long conference with his son. En route to California Mr. Oben chain and Rev. Mr. Burch were said to have outlined the plan for defense for the woman and man indicted for the murder of J. Belton Kennedy. WOMAN IN CHICAGO HAD LOOT FROM IOWA SANKS Chicago, Aug. IB. — Liberty bonds Valued at $15,000 part of the $300,000 loot obtained by bandits from the Citizens State Trust & Savings bank of Hanlontown, la., and the Van Wert State bank, of Van Wert, la., three months ago were found in possession of Mrs. Florence Shomo when she was arrested here Saturday by federal agents on an indi dm nt returned last week.