I
^__- ^ ^ I IM
|| THE SEARCH II
By Grace Livingston Hill- -Lutz
Copyright. 1919. by J. B. Llpplncott Company
Ruth caught her breath,
thanked her and hastened back
to her companion. Salvation
Army I That was eccentric,
queer, but it would be perfectly
respectable! Or would it! Would
Rhoda disapprove very
touch! Somehow *the Salvation
lA/niy was associated in her mind
with slums and drunkards. But,
j4t lep&tj they might be able to
fifrect her to ft respectable place.
L Mrs. Cameron, too, looked dub
ious, This having a socity girl
- to chaperone was new business
for her. She had never thought
much about it, but somehow she
would hardly have associated the
Salvation Army with the Mac
donald family in any way. She
paused and looked doubtfully at
the unpretentious little oue-story
building that stretched away ca
paciously and unostentatiously
from the grassy roadside.
"Salvatiou Army” arose in
bold inviting letters from the
roof, and "Ice Cold Lemonade”
beckoned from a sign on the neat
■creen door. Ruth was a bit ex
cited.
Ira going in! sue declared
and stepped within the door, Mrs.
Cameron following half fear
fully.
The room which they entered
Was long and clean and pleasant.
Simple whitevcurtains draped-the
windows, many rush-bottomed
big rocking chairs were scattered
about, a ldng desk or table ran
along one side of the room with
Writing materials, a piano stood
open with music on its rack, and
shelves of books and magazines
filled the front wall.
Beyond the piano wore half a
dozen little tables, white topped
and ready for a hungry guest. At
the back a counter ran the width
Of the room, with sandwiches and
pies under glass covers, and a
'bright coffee urn steaming sug
Sistively at one end. Behind it
rough an open door was a view
of the kitchen, neat, handy,
crude, but all quite clean, and
through this door stepped a
sweet-faced woman, wiping her
bands on her gfflgham apron and
coming toward them with a smile
of welcome as if they were ex
‘pected guests. It was all so pri
taitivc, and yet there was some
thing about it, that bore tlie dig
nity of refinement, and puzzled
this girl from her sheltered home.
She was almost embarrassed to
Stake her enquiry, but the hearty
response put her quite at tier
case, as if she had asked a great
favor of another lady in a time of
Stress:
"I’m so sorry, but our rooms
lire all taken,” the woman waved
It slender hand toward the long
aide of the room and Iluth no
lit p f i ral itrnn flvtif n
low 'partition ran the length of
tlie room at one side with doors.
Mechanically she counted them,
eight of them, neat, gray painted
doors. Could these be rooms?
Mow interesting! She had a
Wild desire to see inside them.
Rooms! They were more like
little stalls, for the partitions did
toot reach all the way'to the ceil
ing. A vision of her own spaci
ous apartment at home came
floating in vague contrast. Then
one of the doors opposite her
. Opened as its occupant, a quiet
jdderly woman, came out,
and she had a brief glimpse of
the white curtained window, the
White draped comfortable look
ing bed, a row of calico curtained
hooks on the wall, and a speck of
awash stand with tiq pitcher and
Iwpiin i»i the corner, all as clean
and new as the rest of the place.
Bhe swiftly decided to stay here
if there was any chance. An
other look at the sweet faee of
the presiding woman who was
trying to make them understand
how crowded everything was,
ond how may mothers there were
with sons who were going that
toight or the next, and who want
od to be near them, determined
her. She was saying there was
just a chance in ease a certain
mother from Boston who had
Written her did not arrive at 5
O’clock:
‘'But wo ought not to take a
chance,” said Cameron’s mother,
looking at the eager faced girl
With a cautious wistfulness.
“What could we do if night came
Ond we had no place to stay?”
Ruth cast her eyes about.
“Couldn’t we sit in a couple
of those rocking chairs Till
toight?” she asked eagerly.
The Salvation Army woman
toughed affectionately as if she
hod found a kindred spirit:
la
“Why, dearie, I could give you
a couple of cots out here in the
dining room if you didn’t mind.
I wouldn’t have pillows, but I
think I could get you some blank
ets.”
“Then we’ll stay,” said Ruth
triumphantly before Mrs. Cam
eron could protest, and went
away feeling that, she had a new
friend in the wise sweet Salva
tion Army woman. In five min
utes more they were seated in the
trolley on their way into the
camp. *
“I’m afraid your people would
not like you to stay in such a
place,” began Mrs. Cameron
dubiously, though her eyes slipne
with a light that belied her
words.
“Nonsense!” said Ruth with a
bewildering smile, “it is as clean
as a pin and I’m very much ex
cited about staying there. It will
be an adventure. I’ve never
known much about, the Salvation
Army before, except that they
are supposed to be very good
people.”
“There might be some rough
nil t*n n f at>a__ 1 *
“Well, I guess they can’t hurt
us with that good woman around,
and anyhow, you’re going to stay
till your son goes!” laughingly
declared I^uth.
“Well, we’ll see what John
says,” said his mother with a
sigh, “I can’t let you do any
thing—questionable.”
“Please, Mrs. Cameron,”
pleaded’ Ruth, “let us forget
tilings like that this trip and just
have a happy time.”
The mother smiled, sadly, wist
fully, through a mist of tears.
She could not help thinking how
wonderful it would have been if
there had been no war and her
dear boy could have had this
sweet wholesome girl for a
friend.
CHAPTER XIV.
The sun was shining glorious
ly when the two stepped from
the trolley at the little camp sta
tion and looked bewildered
about them at the swarms of uni
forms and boyish faces, search
ing for their one. They walked
through the long lane lined with
soldiers, held back by the great
ropfe. and guarded by military
police. Each crowding eager
soldier had an air of expectancy
upon him, a silence upon him
that showed the realization of
the parting that was soon to be.
In many faces deep disappoint
ment was growing as the ex
pected ones did not •arrive.
Ruth’s throat was filled with
oppression and tears as she
looked about and suddenly felt
me grip or war, ana realizea
that all these thousands were
bearing this bitterness of part
ing, perhaps forever. Death
stalking up and down a battle
field, waiting to take bis pick of
them! This was the picture that
flashed before her shrinking
eyes.
It was almost like a solemn
ceremony, this walking down the
lane of silent waiting soldiers, to
be claimed by their one. It
seemed to bring the two young
people nearer in heart than they
had ever been before- when at
the end of the line Cameron met
them with a salute, kissed his
mother, and then turned to Ruth
and took her hand with an earn
est grave look of deep pleasure
in his eyes.
lie led them up under the big
trees in front of the Hostess’
House while all around were
hushed voices, and teary eyes.
That first moment of 'meeting
was the saddest and the quietesl
of the day with everybody, ex
cept the last parting hour wher
""mute grief sat unchecked upoi
every face, and no one stoppec
to notice if any man were watch
ing, but just lived out bis rea
heart self, and showed his moth
er or his sister or his sweethear
how much he loved and suffered
That was a day which all til
little painted butterflies of temp
tation should have been made t
witness. There were no paintei
ladies coming through the gate
lhat day. This wms no time fo
friendships like that. De'ath wa
, calling, and the deep realities o
■ life stood out and demanded ai
tention.
The whole thing was unlik
anything Ruth had ever wi
nessed before. It was a ne1
world. It was as if thf old coi
ventions which had heretofor
hedged lier life were droppe
like a garment revealing life *
it really was, and every on
walked unashamed, because the
great sorrow and need of all had
obliterated the little petty rules
of life, and small passions were
laid aside, while hearts throbbed
in a common cause.
He waited on then like a
prince, seeming to anticipate
every need, and smooth every
annoyance. He led them away
from the throng to the quiet hill
side above the camp where
spring had set 'her dainty foot
print. He spread down his thick
army blanket for them to sit
upon and they held sweet con
verse for an hour or two. He
told them of camp life and what
was expected to be when they
started over, anfl when they
reached the other side*
His mother was brave and sen- '
sible. Sometimes the tears would
brim over at some suggestion of
what her boy was soon to bear
or do, but she wore a smile as
courageous and sweet as any
saint could wear. The boy saw
and grew tender over it. A bird
came and sang over their heads
and the moment was sweet with
springing things and quiet with
the brooding tenderness of part
ing that hung over the busy
camp. Ruth had one awful mom
ent of adjustment when she tried
to think how her aunt Rhoda
would look if she could see her
now; then threw the whole thing
to the winds and resolved to en
joy the day. She saw that while
the conventions bv which she
ad been reared were a good
thing in general, perhaps, they
certainly were not meant to
hamper or hinder the true and
natural life of the heart, or, if
they were, they were not good
things; and she entered into the
moment with her full sympathy.
Perhaps Aunt Rhoda would not
understand, but the girl she had
brought up knew that it was
good to be here. Her aunt was
away from home with an invalid
friend oh a short trip so there
had been no one to question
Ruth’s movements when she de
cided to run down to Washing
ton with a “friend from Red
Cross” and incidentally vnRt’the
camp a little while.
He had them over the camp by
and by, to the trenches and dum
mies, and all the paraphernalia
of war preparation. Then they
went back to the Hostess’ House
and fell into line to get dinner.
As Cameron stood looking down
at Ruth in tlje crowded line in
the democratic way which was
the only way there was, it came
over them both how strange and
wonderful it was that they two
who had seen each other so little
in their lives „and who had come
from such widely separated so
cial civeles should be there to
gether in that beautiful inti
macy. It came to them J^otli at
once and flashed its thought
from one pair of eyes to the oth
er and back again. Cameron
looked deep into her thoughts
then for a moment to find out
if there was a shadow of morti
fication or dismay in her face;
but though she flushed consci
I ously her sweet true eyes gave
j duck omy uie pleasure sue was
(feeling, and her real enjoyment
jof the day. Then instantly each
, of them felt that another crisis
i had been passed in their friend
ship, another something unseen
and beautiful had happened that
made this moment m<*4 precious
—one never to be forgotten no
matter what happened in the fu
ture, something they would not
j have missel for any oilier ex
! perionce.
It was Ruth who announced
suddenly, late in the afternoon,
| during a silence in which each
one was thinking how fast the
I day was going:
“Did you know that we were
going to stay over Sunday!”
Cameron’s face blazed with
joyful light:
‘ ‘ Wunderfill 1 ’ ’ ^he said softly,
“do you mean it! I’ve been try
ing to get courage all day to
suggest it, only 1 don’t know' of
any place this side of Washing
ton or Baltimore where you can
be comfortable, and 1 hate to
think of you hunting around a
strange city late at night for ac
commodations. If I could ouly
; get out to go with you--!”
“It isn’t necessary,” said Ruth
' quickly, “we have our accommo
dations all arranged for. Your
> mother and I planned it all out
1 before we came. But are you
s slice we can get into camp to
r morrow!”
s “Yes, I’m almost certain we
f can get you passes by going up
to officers’ headquarters and ap
plying. A fellow in our eom
e pany told me this morning he
had permission for his mother
v and sister to come in tomorrow.
1- And we are not likely to leave
e before Monday now, for this
I morning our lieutenant went
s away and I heard him say he
e had a three clays’ leave. They
wouldn’t have given him that j
if they expected to send us be- !
fore he got back, at least notv
unless they recalled him—they
might do that.”
“Is that the lieutenant that
you called a ‘mess’ the other
day?” asked Ruth with twink
ling eyes.
“Yes,” said Cameron turning
a keen, startled glance at her,
and wondering what she would
say if she knew it was Wain
wright he meant.
But she answered demurely:
“So he’s away, is he? I’m
glad. I was hoping he would
be.”
“Why?” asked Cameron.
“Oh, I thought he might be in
the way,” she smiled, and
changed the subject,'calling at
tention to the meadow lark who
was thrilling out his little ecstasy
in the tall tree over their head.
Cameron gave one glance at
the bird and then brought his
gaze back to the sweet upturned
face beside him, his soul thrill
ing with the wonder of it that
she should be there with him!
“But you haven’t told me
where you have arrangad to
stay. Is it Baltimore or Wash
ington? I must look up your
trains. I hope you will be able
to stay as late as possible.
They*re not putting people out
of camp until 8 o’clock tonight.”
“Lovely!” said Ruth with the
eagerness of a child. “Then
we’ll stay till the very last trol- I
lev. We’re not eroin«r to either I
Baltimore or Washington. We’re
staying right near the camp en
trance in that little town at the
station where we landed, I don’t
remember what you call it. We
got accommodations this morn
ing before we came into camp.
“But where?” asked Cameron
anxiously. “Are you sure its
respectable? I’m afraid there
isn’t any place there that would
do at all.”
“Oh, yes there is,” said Ruth.
“It’s the Salvation Army ‘hut,’
they called it, but it looks more
like a barracks, and there’s the
dearest little wom^n in charge!”
“John, I’m afraid it isn’t the
right thing to let her do it!” put
in his mother anxiously. “I’m’*
afraid her aunt wouldn’t like it
at all, and I’m sure she won’t
be comfortable.”
“I shall love it!” said Ruth
happily, “and my aunt will nev
er know anything about it. As
for comfort, I’ll be as comfort
able as you are, my dear lady,
and I’m sure you wouldn’^ let
comfort stand in the way of be
ing with your boy.” She smiled
her sweet little triumph that
brought tears to the eyes of the
mother; and Cameron gave her
a blinding look of gratitude and
adoration. St> she carried her
way.
Cameron protested no more,
but cjuietly enquired at the Hos
tess’ House if the place was all
right, and when he put them on
the car at 8 o’clock he gave
Ruth’s hand a lingering pres
sure, and said in a low tone that
only she could hear, with a look
that carried its meaning to her
heart:
“I shall never forget that you
did this for my mother—and
me! ’ ’
The two felt almost light
hearted in comparison to their
fellow travellers, because they
had a short reprieve before they
would have to say good-bye.
I>ut Ruth sat looking about her,
at the sad-eyed girls and women
who had just parted froih their
husbands and sous and sweet
hearts, and who were most of
them weeping, and felt anew the
great burden of the universal sor
row upon her. She wondered
how God could stand it. The old
human question that wonders
how God can stand the great
agonies of life that have to come
to cure the world of its sin, and
never wonders how God can
stand the sin 1 She felt as if she
must somehow find God and
plead with Him not to do it, and
again there came that longing to
her soul, if she only knew God
intimately! Cameron’s question
! recurred to her thoughts, “Could
anyone on this earth know God?
Had anyone ever Known Him?
Would the Bible say anything
about it?’’ She,resolved to read
it through and find out.
The brief ride brought them
suddenly into a netv and to
Ruth somewhat startling envir
onment.
tTo ho Continued Next Week)
Lafe Bud an’ His wife had quite an
argyment last night. She said it
seemed like ages since they wuz mar
yr
ried an’ he stoutly maintained it wuz
longer.
Th’ mayor o' Youngstown, Ohio,
made such a hit by resignin’ that
ther’s talk o’ runnin’ him fer gov’nor.
—Abe Martin. •*'
A
A STORY FOR SUNDAY.
IT IS sweltering in Robertsdale
these days. Dust clogs the throat, .
and goes floating away toward j
the scorched forests that cluster
about the town when a vagrant
breeze with hot breath wanderj
through the unkempt streets. Rob
ertsdale is a coal town, one of many i
ugly gaslie3 that mar the landscape
in the rich bituminous fields of
Pennsylvania.
The calm of the Sabbath hovers
over Robertsdale. Since April 1 the
creak of the mine tipple has been
silenced. The streets, lined with
"company houses,” weather beaten
shacks that lean toward each other
like a row of lame beggars, are de
serted.
At the edge of the Bobertsdale in
a little grove, where house flies bite
and dragon flies hover over the
braokish water of sluggish streams
turned copper in color, one finds the
male citizens of the village. Here
they while away the monotonous
hours by pitching horseshoes, or sit
ting about on stumps playing with
frayed back cards. So the long days
have passed since April 1.
But at 10 o’clock each morning
there is a strange site in Roberts
dale, a queer happening indeed'in a
nation so rich as America. Outside
the doors of the Miners’ Hall on the
outskirts of the town owned by the
mining corporation, a line of chil
dren forms. They carry bowls and
spoons, these undernourished vic
tims of the industrial warfare. Dirty
they are. Evicted from the com
pany houses with their rude bathing
facilities, with the surface of the
nfiflrbv rrftpka matt pH ptppti tnpap
boys and girls might well be little
Belgians and their country invaded.
Their faces, pinched, brighten as
the big ladle is dipped into the tubs of
gruel prepared by the kindly hands of
Quakers; for about a month ago the
American Friends announced that
henceforth they would help the in
nocent victims of industrial as well
as international strife.
The scientific war conducted in
ihe industry of this country has
brought on conditions in isolated
areas such as the Friends found in
Belgium, in Austria, in northern
France, In Germany, during and im
mediately after the war. It is an
indictment of our business brains
that this is so, a crushing proof of
the inefficiency of our leaders, both
governmental and industrial. But It
is of the Quakers and their new
work that this story is written.
The Quakers go Into a mining
town with their rolling kitchens
when they learn that a union’s relief
funds are so low there is danger of
acute suffering among the young
sters. Then a local emergency com
mittee is created, including the min
ister and priest of the town, a doctor,
and a merchant. The doctor examines
the children and substantial meals
are prescribed by a dietitian from
•he Friends’ organization. Bean soup,
flea pudding, and cocoa replace the
sour bread and molasses on which
toys, girls, and Infants have been
ixisting since last April.
That's about all there is to tell
about the Robertsdales. Maybe this
is an editorial; and maybe it is not.
The story is told merely to let the
public know what the religious body
popularly known as Quakers is
doing now. Maybe what the Quak
ers are doing as best they can with
their meager funds is the "practical
. Christianity” one hears so much
about, and sees so little of. Maybe
it is not. The Quakers think it is.
is.
Autobiographical notes in Harper’s
Magazine.
There is another unfinished book,
which I should probably entitle "The
Refuge of the Derelicts.” It is half fin
ished and will remain so. There is yet
mother one, entitled “The Adventure
of a Microbe During Three Thousand
Tears; by a Microbe.” It Is half fin
ished and wil remain so. There is yet
mother, “The Mysterious Stranger." It
Is more than half finished. I would
dearly like to finish it, and it causes me
a real pang to reflect that It is not to
be. These several tanks are full now,
and those books would go gayly along
and complete themselves if I would hold
the pen. but I am tired of the pen. There
was another of these half finished
stories. I carried it as far as 38,000
words four years ago, then destroyed it
for fear I might some day finish it. Huck
Finn was the teller of the story, and of
course Tom Sawyer and Jim were the
heroes of it. But I believed that that
trio had done work enough in this
world and were entitled to a permanent
rest.
If there Is one lesson taught by
history, it is that tho permanent
greatness of any state must ulti
mately depend more upon the char
acter of its country population than
upon anything else. No growth of
cities,* no growth of wealth, can
make up for loss In either the num
ber or character of the farming pop
ulation.—Theodore Roosevelt.
Hardly Ever.
From the Philadelphia Inquirer.
A square man is seldom a rounder.
But What Did the 1,000 Wives Say?
From the Ohio State Journal.
We have sometimes wondered what
the neighbor women said when the
Queen of Sheba came lyping up on her
camel, slipped lightly from his hump
and went Into Solomon's house In broad
daylight, but we really suppose they
were so used to Solomon that they were
about talked out and merely remarked
in a matter-of-fact way; Well, girls,
bare’* another.
FLOCK TO CANADA
Immigrants of High Order Set
tling on Western Plains.
Removal of Restrictions Necessary Dur
ing the War Has Shown World’s
Faith in Dominion’s Future.
For a period during the late war,
and for a while after its close, there
was put into operation by the Canadian
government legislation restricting cer
tanr classes and people of the countries
which were not lined up with the allied
nations from being admitted to Canada.
This was quite necessary, and the rea
sons for It will be so apparent that
they need not be given. However, the
time came, in the early summer of this
year, when it was deemed possible to
remove some of these restrictions. It
was iound that there were many who ,
came under their ruling that were of
ft class that Canada needed and who
needed Canada. The restrictions,
doubtless, were drastic, but were need
ful. The news of their removal, sent
broadcast, has met with such a re
sponse as to give ample evidence that
they had not killed interest in Canada,
and that faith in the Dominion as a
country where a new existence, happy
and fruitful, was as complete as ever.
As has been stated by one writer deal
ing with this subject, "the opening of
the doors a little wider has but dis
closed the dummed-up state of the
stream, which, given freer release, is
pouring in fuller force over the Do
minion.”
As to the moral effect of the legisla
tion that enabled these restrictions to
be carried out, it showed that while
Canada was seeking settlers, its lands
and its homes were not Intended as a
shelter for those unable to meet the
standard set as Canada’s laws of civ
■iiiiiuuu, me concessions wnicn nave
removed these restrictions still have
in view the maintenance of this stand
ard, and those who are still allowed
in are subject to the same require
ments that have prevailed for years,
is pointed out by the writer previously
quoted, ‘‘Canada has successfully im
pressed on those countries from which
she draws her people that her prime
and crying need is for those who will
go on land, and of those entering the
country the bulk Is composed of agri
culturists. Every country which has
formerly contributed to Canada's pop
ulation has resumml its mission to its
shores.
"The lowering of the barriers has
had a farther-reaching effect than the
entry into the country of many for
merly debarred by reasons of financial
stringency. It has had a moral effect,
rhe restriction was rightly regarded
as an Indication of Canada’s Internal
economic condition, and many persons
»nd families of comfortable means con
templating Canadian settlement were
iiscouraged from doing so. In the re
moval is seen the first blush of the
lawn of better days, and consequently
many of those arriving are in a condi
tion to establish rapidly and securely.
“Though Canadian Immigration falls
broadly into the two classes, British
and American, many European peoples
have contributed in a large measure to
the agricultural development of the
Western provinces, and it is gratifying
to note the same healthy interest in
Canada evinced by the most desirable
»f these.
“Amongst those from the European
countries are Serbians, Poles, Swiss,
Roumanians, Dutch, Jugo-Slavs,
French, Danish, Norwegians, Swedes,
Finns and Lithuanians. All have con
itltuted fine, desirable citizen-buitding
material, as the few detections and
lesser deportations bear testimony.
Furthermore, the disturbed industrial
conditions of the New England states
iiave resulted in the commencement of
m exodus of French-Canadian families
back to their old homes, which may
teach an appreciable size.
“On all sides this awakening of in
terest Is evident. It is a new faith
borne on tile crest of the wave of
brighter prospects, the dawn of a fuller
realization, in the continued inability *
of many other countries to emerge
from the economic slough Into which
the war plunged them, of the desirabil
ity of Canada as a country more rapid
ly throwing off Its post-bellum depres
sion, and its great place In the world’s
immediate future.
"British migration Is of a healthy
and desirable order, of sturdy com
position, and frequently heavily capi
talized. Many Scottish farmers have
alrendy arrived this year.”
Every state In the Union Is con
tributing Its quota, and joining with
those who have been In Cunada for a
number of years In the work of re
claiming the virgin prairie of the great
plains of the West and converting them
Into Immense fields of golden grain,
or Its grasses Into fodder for the dairy
cow or the fattening steer.—Advertise
ment.
His Waterloo. *
"Great guns of Iron, Gap!” nstound
Ddly ejaculated an acquaintance. "Your
clothes are mighty nigh tore ofTn
you. Been figlitin’ with a catamount?”
“Nope!” replied Gap Johnson of
Rumpus Ridge. "Been whipping thun
der ont of some of my kkls for being
sassy to me.”—Kansas City Star.
Explains Decline of Oratory.
“One reason why we don’t hah tno’
greater oratory,” said Uncle Eben, “is
dat so many of dur best talkers is
turnin’ deir attention to salesman
ship.”
History may not be accurate, but
what other chart have we for mapping
the future?
•
