THE ENCHANTED BARN I
copyright ISIS. t>y J B. Llpplncott Co.
They talked about the sunset
and a poem he had lately read.
He told her hits about his jour
ney, referring to his experience
at the mines, touching on some
amusing incidents, sketching
some of the queer characters he
bail met. Once he asked her quite
abruptly if she thought her
mother would he disturbed if he
Jiad a cement floor put in the
basement of the barn some time
noon. He wanted to have it done
before cold weather set in. and it
won id. dry better now in the hot 6
days. Of course, if it would be
in the least, (listurhing to any of
them it could wait, but lu* Wanted
to stop- a few things there that
were bring taken out of the of
fice buildings, and he thought
.they would keep drier if there
was a cement floor. When she
•said it would not disturb any
one m the least, would on the
contrary be quite interesting for
the children to watch, she was
sure, he went easily back to (’ali
form;; scenery and lievei; re
ferred to it again,
f At! through t lie ride, which
was aerosa a country she had nev
er sern before, and ended at.
(jteiiaida approaching from a
«riew direction, there was a subtle
-something between them, a sym
pathy and quick understanding
ms if they were comrades, almost
partners in a lot of common in
terests. Shirley' chided herself
for if, every time she looked up
and caught his glance, anil felt
the thrill id* pleasure in this close
companionship. Of course it was
wholly in her own imagination,
and due entirely to the nervous
strain through which she had
passed that day, she told herself.
Of course, he had nothing in his
mind but the must ordinary
Isindiy desire to give her a good
time out of gratitude fur what
she had done for him. Riit ncv
<•rt.hete.ss it was sweet, and Shir
ley was i.vith to surrender the
joy of it. white it lasted, dream
though it, might, lie. _
Ii 4. i l a i at. ...
t ’ I a.ll'l VI 1*1 t * « . I ’ * V ** « * J ’
to the very stop in front of tin
barn when he took her hand to
help her out, and Ins lingers lin
gered on hers with just an in
stant's pressure, sending a thrill
to her heart again, and almost
bringing tears to her eyes. Fool
iahium! She was overwrought.
It was a shame that human be
ings were so made that they had
to become weak like that in a
time of pleasant rejoicing.
The family came forth noisily
to meet them, rejoicing openly ,
at Graham's return, George and
Harley vying with each other to
-shout the news about the garden
and the chickens and the dove
cote; Farol demanding to know
where was Elizabeth; and Doris
earnestly looking in his face and
repeating:
“Ickle hudic fy away. Mistali
Gwaham. All gone! All ickle
Inidierfy away!”
Even Mrs. Hollister came
smiting to the. door to meet him,
tutd the. young man had a warm
ward of hearty greeting and a
band shake for each one. It was
as if he had just got home to a
j-taec where he loved to he, and
be could not show bis joy
enough. Shirley stood hack for
the moment watching him, ad
miring the way his hair waved
away from his temples, thinking
flow hands nne Ik- looked when
he smiled, wondering that he
could so easily fit himself into
‘his group, which must in the
tali!re of things he utterly dif
ferent from Ids native element,
rejo-.jmg over the defereuee he
pai < to her p’ltiu, quiet mother,
thrilling over the kiss he gave
her swf-et little sister.
Then Mrs. Hollister diil some
thing perfectly unexpected and
dreadful she invited him to stay
to -dinner! Shirley stood hack
and gasped. Of course he would
decline, hut think of the temerity
of inviting the weatliy anil cul
tured Mr. Graham to take dinner
in his own barn!
' AjAi-J Hut be. wasn't going to
(let tine at all. He was accepting
jih if it were a greal pleasure
f'lftri Hollister was conferring
i. ’.uMMilrMt. Sure, he would stay!
• lit- had been wishing all the way
out they would ask him. He
v’h&d wondered whether he dared
l*»,*^l1umSelf.
idhirley with her cheeks very
red hurried in to see that the
itablc cloth was put on straight,
and look after one or two little
.thiu«s; hut behold, he followed
fter out, auil, gently insisting
Hint assisting, literally compelled
her to oom* and lie down on the
-•2'
couch while lie (old* the family
what, she had been through that
clay. Shirley was so happy she
almost cried right there before
them all. It was so wonderful
to have some one take care of her
that way. Of course it was only
gratitude—but she bad been tak
ing care of other people so long
that it completely broke liter
down to have some one take care
of her.
Tiie dinner went much more
easily than slie had supposed it
could with those cracked plates,
and the forks from which the
silver was all worn off. Doris in
sisted that the guest sit next to
her and butter her bread for her,
and she occasionally caressed his
coat-sleeve with a sticky little
hand, but he didn’t seem to mind
it in t he least, and smiled down
on her in quite-a brotherly way,
arranging her bib when it got
tangled in her curls, and seeing
that she had plenty of jelly on
her bread.
It was a beautiful dinner.
Mother Hollister had known
what, she was about, when she
selected that particular night to
invite unexpected ‘company.
There was stewed chicken on lit
tle round biscuits, with plenty of
gravy and currant jflly, mashed
potatoes, green peas, little new
beets, and the most delicious cus
tard pie for dessert, all rich, vel
vety yellow with a golden-brown
top. The guest ate as if he en
joyed it, and asked for^a sec
ond piece of pie, just as if he
were one of them. It was un
believable.
He helped clear off the table
too, and insisted on Carol’s giv
ing him a wiping-towel to help
with the dishes. It was just-like
a < I ream.
The young man tore himself re
luctantly away about, !) o’clock
and went home, but before he
left lie took Shirley's hand and
looked into her eyes with another
of those deep understanding
glances, and Shirley watched him
whirling away in the moonlight,
and wondered if there ever,would
be another day as beautiful and
exciting and wonderful as this
had been, and whether she could
come down to sensible, every-day
liviug.ngain by morning.
Then there was the story of
the day to tell all over again af
ter he was gone, and put in the
little family ‘ touches that, hud
been left .out when the guest was
there, and there was: “Oh, did
you notice how admiring he
looked when he told mother Shir
ley had a remarkably keen
mindt” and “‘lie said his father
thought. Shirley was the most un
spoiled-looking girl he had ever
seen!” and a lot of other things
that Shirley hadn't heard before.
Shirley told her mother what
the senior Mr. Graham had said
about giving her a reward, and
her mother agreed that she had
done just right in declining any
thing for so simple a service, but
she looked alter Shirley with a
sigh as she went to put Doris to
bed, and wondered if for this ser
vice the poor child was to get a
broken heart. It could hardly be
possible that a girl could be giv
en much attention such as Shir
ley had received that day, from
as attractive a young man as
Graham, without feeling it keen
ly not to have it continue. And
of course it was out of the ques
tion that it should continue. Mrs.
Hollister decided that she had
done wrong to invite the young
man to stay to supper, and re
solved never to offend in that
way again. It was a wrong In.
i Shirley to put him on so intimate
a footing in the household, and
it could not but bring her sad
ness. He was a most unusual
young man to have oven wanted
to stay, but one must not take
that for more than a passing
whim, and Shirley must be pro
tected at all hazards.
"Xow, ” said the elder Graham
the next morning, when the bus
i ijiess of the day was well under
| way and he had time to send for
his son to come into his office,
“now, 1 want you to tell me all
about that little girl, and what
you think we ought to give her.
What did she mean by ‘obliga
t ions' yesterday 1 Have you been
• doiug anything for her, soul l
meant to ask you last night, but
you came home so late I couldn’t
sit up.”
And then Sidney Gruham told
his father the whole story. -It
was different from telling his
mother, lie knew no barn would
have the power to prejudice his
father.
“And you say that girl livets
,iu the old barn l” exclaimed the
ifather when the story was fin
ished. “Why, the nervy little
kid! And she looks as if she
came out of a bandbox! Weil,
she’s a bully little girl and no
mistake! Well, now, son, what
can we do for her? We ought, to
do something pretty nice. You
see it wasn’t just the money we
might have lost. That would
have been a mere trifle beside
getting all Ihose other folks
hailed up in the mess. Why, I’d
have given every cent I own be
fore L’d have had Fuller and
Browning and Barnard and Wilts
get entangled. I tell you, sou, it
was a great escape!”
“Yes, father, and it was a
great lesson for me. 1 'll never be
i i — :i., : i>.. ±
about Miss Hollister, I don’t
know what to say. She’s very
proud and sensitive. I had an
awful time doing the little things
1 just had to do to that barn with
out. her suspecting 1 was doing it
especially for her. Father, you
ought to go out. there and meet
the family; then you’d under
stand. They’re not ordinary peo
ple. Their father was a college
professor and wrote things.
They’re cultured people.”
“Well, I want to meet them.
Why don’t we go out there and
call today? I think the must be
worth knowing.”
So late that afternoon the
father and son rode out to Glen
side, and when Shirley and
George reached home they found
the ear standing in front of iheir
place, and the Grahams comfort
ably seated in the great open
doorway, enjoying the late after
noon breeze, and seemingly per
fectly at home in their own barn.
“I’m not going to swarm here
every day, Miss -Shirley,” said
the son, rising and coming out
to meet her. “You see father
hadn’t heard about the trans
formation of the old barn, and
the minute I told him about it. he
had to come right out and see it.”
“Yes,” said the father, smil
ing contentedly, “1 had to come
and see what you’d done out
here. I’ve played in the hay up
in that loft many a day in my
time, and I love the old barn. It’s
great to see it all fixed up so
cozy. Hut we’re going home now
and let you have your dinner.
We just waited to say ‘Howdy’
to you before we left.”
They stayed a few minutes
longer, however, and the senior
Graham talked with Shirley
while he held Doris on his knee
and stroked her silky hair, and
she nestled in his arms quite con
tent
Then, although young Graham
was quite loath 1o leave so soon,
they went, for he could not in
conscience, expect an invitation
to dinner two days in succession.
They rode away into the sun
set, going across country to their
home without going back to
town, and Doris, as she stood
with the others watching them
away, murmured softly:
“Nice favver-man! Nic Gwa
ham favver man!”
The “nice Graham father
man” was at that moment re
marking to his son in very de
cided tones, as he turned to get
a last glimpse of the old barn:
“That old barn door ought to
come down right away, Sid, and
a nice big old-fashioned door with
glass around the sides made to
fill the space. That door is an
eyesore on the place, and they
need a piazza. People like those
can’t live with a great door like
that to open and shut every
day.”
“Yes, father, I've thought of
that, but I don’t just know bow
to manage it. You see they're
not objects of charity. I 've been
thinking about some way to fix
iqi a healing arrangement with
out hurting their feelings, so
they could stay there all winter.
I know they hate to go back to
the city, and they're only paying
$10 a month. It's all they can
afford. What could they get in
the city for that?”
“ Great Scott! A girl like that
living in a house she could get
for $10, when some of these
feather brained baby-dolls we
know can’t get on with less than
three or four house that cost
from $50,000 to $100,000 apiece!
Say, son, that’s a peach of a girl,
do you know it? A peach of a
girl 1 I've been talking with her,
and she lias a very superior
mind.”
“1 know she has, father,” an
swered the son humbly.
“I say, Sid, why don't you
marry her? That would solve
the whole problem. Then you
could fix up the old barn into a
regular house for her folks.,”
“Well, father, that’s jmm •what
I've made up my jn.in.4 to do—
if sheHl hare me,” said the sou
with a gieam of triumph m his
eyes.
“Bully f jr you, Sid! Bully
for you!” and tin* father gave
his son's broad shoulder a re
sounding slap. “Why, Sid, I
didn't think you had that much
sense. Your mother gave me to
understand that you were phil
: andering around with that dolly
; faced Harriet Hale, and 1
couldn’t see what you saw in hei.
But if you mean it, son, I’m with
you every lime. That girl’s a
peach, and you couldn't get a
liner if you searched the world
over,”
“Yes, I’m afraid mother’s
got her heart set on Harriet
Hale,” said the son dubiously,
"but I can't see it that way.”
“H’m! Your mother likes
show,” sighed the father comi
calh', “lint she's got a good heart
and she’ll howl over all right and
make the best of it. You know
neither your mother nor I were
such high and mighties when we
were young, and we married for
love. But now, if you really
mean business, t don’t see why
we can’t do something right
away. When does that girl have
j her vacation? Of course she gets
one sometime. Why couldn’t
your mother just invite the, whole
family to occupy the shore cot
tage for a little while—get up
some excuse or other—ask ’em
to take care of it? You know
it’s lying idle all this summer,
and two servants down there
| growing fat with nothing to do.
We might ship Elizabeth down
there and let ’em be company for
her. They seem like a fine set
of children. It would do Eliza
| beth good to know them.”
‘‘Oh, she’s crazy about them.
[ She’s been out a number of times
with me, and don't you remem
ber she had Carol out to stay
with her?”
‘‘Was that the black eyed, sen
sible girl? Well, I declare! I
didn’t recognize her. She was
all dolled up out at our house.
I suppose Elizabeth loaned ’em
to her, eh? Well, I’m glad. She’s
got sense, too. That’s the kind
of people I like my children to
know. Now if that vacation
could only be arranged to come
when your mother and I take
that western trip, wliy, it would
be just the thing for Elizabeth,
work right all around. Now, the
thing for you to do is to find out
about that vacation, and begin to
! work things. Then you could be
done by the time they came
back.”
So the two conspirators plot
ted, while all unconscious of their
interest Shirley was trying to
j get herself in hand aud not think
! how Graham’s eyes had looked
when he said good night to her.
CHAPTER XIX.
!
•A ■
-Since the pastor from the vil
lage had called upon them, the
young people of the stone barn
had been identified with the lit
tle white church in the valley.
Shirley had taken a class of boys
in the Sunday school and was
playing the organ, as George had
once predicted. Carol was help
ing the primary teacher, George
wus assistant librarian and secre
tary, Harley was in Shirley’s
class, and Doris was one of the
primaries.
Shirley had at once identified
herself with the struggling little
Christian Endeavor society and
was putting new life into it, with
her enthusiasm, her new ideas
about getting hold of the young
people of the community, and
her wonderful knack of getting
the silent ones to take part in
the meetings. She had suggest
ed new committees, had invited
the music committee to meet her
at her home some evening to plan
out special music, and to co-op
erate with the social committee
in planning for music at. the so
cials. She always carried a few
appropriate clippings or neatly
! written verses or other quot.a
j tions to meeting to slip into'the
hands of some who had not pre
pared to speak, and she saw to it
that her brothers and sisters were
always ready to say something.
Withal, she did her part so un
obtrusively that none of the old
members could think she was
trying to usurp power or make
herself prominent. She became
a quiet power behind the pow
ers, to whom the president and
all the other officers came for
advice, and who seemed always
ready to help in any work, or to
find a way out of any difficulty.
Christian Endeavor in the little
white church at once took great
strides after the advent of the
Hollisters, and even the idlers on
the street corners were moved
witli curiosity to drop into the
: twilight service of the young peo
I pie and see what went on, and
I why everybody seemed so iu
I ieriated. Hut the see ret of it all,
‘ *'?'o U» Cui4tliiu«d Nut WnI)
-X ' .
. ' "‘-'1 . 1 1 ■ ■ ... I HI —*
I After Every Meal
10 WRIGLEY'S has steadily ||
kept to the pre-war price. |i
m And to the same high stand- i
-|| ard of quality. |j|
No other goody lasts so H
H long-costs so little or does §
\ so much for you. !
- Handy to carry—beneficial H
| i in effect—full of flavor—a |||
solace and comfort tor 19
young and old. ||
-ll THE FLAVOR i
LASTS
____;___]P
WATER FROM ARTESIAN WELL
Why Method of Bringing It to Sur
face la Only Successful in Cer
tain Localities.
Artesian wells are possible only in
certain localities. When there are
pervious strata lying between im
pervious beds the water percolating
through will be imprisoned ; lying bp
on the lowest, and rising to some
point In the highest, when a previous
stratum brings It to the surface and
It escapes In the form of spring. If,
however, a shaft can he sunk to the
lowest point, Fife water of the whole
basin will pass upward for escape
and will rise lo a level corresponding
to the greatest height to which the
imprisoned strata reaches. The wells
were named from one at Artois,
France, which was the first sunk with
full knowledge of the principle in
volved. Tl»e Chinese from time im
memorial have used these wells, and
they have also been used for cen
turies In the neighborhood of Vienna.
The artesian well at Grenoble, near
Paris, throws water to a height of 32
feet above the surface at the rate of
more than 500 gallons a minute.—
Boston Globe.
Lines to Be Remembered.
The origin of all maHkind was the
same; It Is only a clear and good
conscience that makes n man noble,
for that Is derived frem heaven itself.
~Seneca.
• ~ ——
HONORS RESTED WITH CHOATE
Possibly Because He Had the Lact
Word in Witty Duel With
Chauncey M. Depew.
New Yorkers agree that either .To
soph Choate or Chauncey M. Depea
was tlie finest after-dinner speakei
on earth. Some one says: “At at
annual dinner of the St. Nicholas so
cieiy Choate was down for the toast
‘The N'av.v,’ while Depew was to r»
spend to ‘Tlie Army.’ Depew begat
by saying: ‘It’s well to have a spo
ciullst; that's why Choate Is here t«
speak about tlie navy. We met ai
the wharf once and I never saw hint
again until we reached Liverpool
When I asked how he fe’t lie said h«
thought lie would have enjoyed the
trip over if he had had any ocean
air. Yes, you want to hear Choate on
the navy.’
“Choate responded: ‘I've heard De
pew hailed as the greatest after-din
ner speaker. if after-dinner speak
ing. as I have heard it described and
as I believe it lo be, is the art of say
ing nothing at all. then Doctor De
pew is the most marvelous speaker in
the universe.’ "—Washington Star.
The young man who gets a good
start In life doesn't always make a
satisfactory finish.
No man is so peaceful that lie isn’t
proud of his ancestors that fought In
the wars.
Do you know what constitutes j
) a strong constitution? |j
|i To have sound, healthy nerves, completely under jj
|| Control, digestive organs that are capable of absorbing
jii a hearty meal, means you have a strong constitution!
|| Your general attitude is one of optimism and energy.
j| But an irritable disposition, frequent attacks of |j
|| indigestion, and a languid depression, indicate your !|
| system is not in correct working order. ||
|| Probably you are not eating the proper food. ffj
<jt Probably the nutritious elements are not being ||
|j supplied to your system in the proper way;
| Grape-Nuts is the wholesome, delicious cereal jj|
fj| that promoted normal digestion, absorption and elimi- |l!
||| nation, whereby nourishment is accomplished with- ||
jr out auto-intoxication. A mixture of energy-giviflfc f|
•| wheat and malted barley comprise the chief elements ||j
!p of Grape-Nuts. A dish at breakfast or lunch is an ||
j| excellent, wholesome rule to follow. f|
j| You can order Grape-Nuts at any and every hotel, |p
| restaurant, and lunch room; on dining cars, on lake ji
I boats and steamers; in every good grocery, large and ||
| small, in every city, town or village in North America. §
I v Grape-Nuts—the Body Builder |
| “There’s a Reason”
