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Ragged Edge i
Harold MacGrath I
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She remembered that she had
toot gone to bed until two o’clock
In the rooming. She had carried
a chair into the room veranda
an\<i had watched and listened
Amtil the night silences had
?*Ogthened and only occasionally
■he heard a voice or the rattle
of rickshaw wheels in the court
yard.
The great ordeal—that which
Ibe had most dreaded—had
•roved to be no ordeal at all.
[’he kindlv American consul
general haa himself taken her to
the bank, where her banknotes
had been exeh.aiged for a letter
of credit, and had thoroughly
Advised her. Everything had so
far come to pass as the withered
old Kanaka woman had foretold.
“The Golden One knows that,
J have seen the world; therefore
follow my instructions. Never
glance sideways at man. Noth
ing else matters.”
The prison bars of circum
stance, they no longer encom
passed her. Her wings were
oddly weak, but for all that she
could fly. That was the glorious
|f bewildering truth. She had
left for ever the cage, the galling
leash: she was free. The misty
Caravans of which she had
dreamed were become actuali
ties. She had but to choose. All
(about her, hither and yon, lay
the enticing Unknown. Romance!
fTlio romance of passing faces, of
Wires that earfied voices and
words to the far ends of the
world, of tremendous mech
anisms that propelled ships and
trains i And, oh the beautiful
hooks!
hne swittly knelt upon tlio
floor and once more gathered
the books to her heart.
v CHAPTER V
At dinner the spinsters Invited
ituth to sit at their table, an in
vitation she accepted gratefully.
jBhe was not afraid exactly, but
there was that about her loneli
ness to-night she distrusted. De
tached, it was not impossible
that she would be forced to leave
the dining room because of in
vading tears. To be near some
one, even someone who made a
pretense of friendliness, to hear
voices, her • own intermingling,
would serve as a rehabilitating
tonic. The world had grown
dark and wide, and she was very
imall. Doubts began to rise up
ill about her, plucking at her
jonfidence. Could sKe go through
With it? She must. Sho would
never, never go hack.
As usual the substantive sister
''-Prudence—did all the talking
for the pair; Angelina, the
shadow, offered only her sub
mitting nods. Sometimes she
misse l her cue and nodded af
firmatively when the gesture
should have been the reverse;
and Prudence would send her a
sharp glance of disapproval.
.Angelina's distress over these
mischances was pathetic.
IN one oE this by-play escaped
Ruth, whose sense of humour
needed no developing. That she
possessed any sense of humour
was in itself one of those human
miracles which metaphysicians
Are always pothering over with
out arriving anywhere; for her
previous environment had been
particularly humourless. But if
ahe smiled at all it was with her
eyes. To-night she could have
tugged both the old maids.
"Somebody ought to get hold
of that young man,” said Pru
dence, grimly, as she nodded in
Spurlock*8 direction. "Look at
him!”
Ruth looked. He was draining
A glass, and as he set it down he
shuddered. A siphon and a
whisky bottle stood before him.
He measured out the portion of
another peg, the bottle wavering
in his hand. His food lay un
touched about his plate. There
was no disgust in Ruth’s heart,
only an infinite pity; for only
the pitiful understand.
"I’m sorry," she said.
"I hare no sympathy,” replied
Prudence, “with a man who de
liberately fuddles himself with
strong drink.”
“You would, if you had seen
wbAt I have. Men in this part
>
of the world drink to forget the
things they have lost.”
“And what should a young
man like this one have to for
get 7” Prudence demanded to
know.
“I wonder,” said Ruth.
“Couldn’t you speak to him7”
“What 7—and be insulted for
my trouble! No, thank you!”
“That is it. You complain of
a condition, but you leave the
correction to someone else.”
The spinster had no retort to
offer such directness. This child
was frequently disconcerting.
Prudence attacked her chicken
wing.
“If I spoke to him, my in
terest might be misinterpreted.”
4 4 Where did you go to school 7 ’ *
Prudence asked, seeking a new
channel, for the old one appear
ed to be full of hidden reefs.
“I never went to school.”
“But you are educatedl”—
astonished.
“That depends upon what
you call educated. Still, my
tutor was a highly educated
scholar—my father.” Neither
spinster noticed the reluctance in
the tones.
“Ah! I see. He suddenly
realized that he could not keep
you for ever in this part of the
world; so he sends you to your
aunt. That dress! Only a man—
and an unworldly one—would
have permitted you to proceed
on your venture dressed in a
gown thirty years out of date.
What is your father’s business!”
The question was an imperti
nence, but Ruth was not aware
of that.
' Souls,’ she answered, drily.
"A missionerl That illumi
nates everything." The spin
ster’s face actually becamo
warm. "You will finish your
education in the East and return.
I see."
"No. I shall never come
back."
Something in the child’s voice,
something in her manner, warned
the spinster that her well-mean
ing inquisitiveness had received
a set-back and that it WGuld be
dangerous to press it forward
again. What she had termed il
luminative now appeared to be
only another phase of the mys
tery which enveloped the child.
A sinister thought edged in.
Who could say that the girl’s
father had not once been a
fashionable ' clergyman in the
States and that drink had got
him and forced him down, step
by step, until—to use the child’s
odd expression—he had come
upon the beach? She was cyni
cal, this spinster. There was no
such a thing as perfection in a
mixed world. Clergymen were
human. Still, it was rather
terrible to suspect that one had
fallen from grace, but never-the
less the thing was possible. With
the last glimmer of decency he
had sent the daughter to his
sister. The poor child 1 What
frightful things she must have
seen on that island of hers!
The noise of crashing glass
caused a diversion; and Ruth
turned gratefully toward the
sound.
The young man had knocked
over the siphon. He rose, steadi
ed himself, then walked out of
the dining room. Except for the
dull eyes and the extreme pal
lor of his face, there was nothing
else to indicate that he was deep
in liquor. He did not stagger
in the least. And in this fact
lay his danger. The man who
staggers, whoso face is flushed,
whose attitude is either noisily
friendly or truculent, has some
chance; liquor bends him eventu
ally. But men of the Spurlock
type, who walk straight, who are
unobtrusive and intensely pale,
they break swiftly and inex
plicably. They seldom arrive on
the beach. There are way-sta
tions—even terminals.
There was still the pity of
understanding in Ruth’s eyes.
Perhaps it was loneliness.
Perhaps he had lost his loved
ones and was wandering over the
world seeking forgetfulness. But
he would die if he continued in
this course. They were alike in
one phase—loveless and lonely.
If he died, hero in this hotel,
who would care t Or if she died,
who would caret
A queer desire blossomed in
her heart: to go to him, urge
him to sec the folly of trying to
forget. Of what use was the
temporary set-back to memory,
when it always returned with
redoubled poignausy?
Then came another thought,
astonishing. This was the first
young man who had drawn
from her something more than
speculative interest. True, on
board the ships she had watched
young men from afar, but only
with that normal curiosity which
is aroused in the presence oi
any new species. But after
Singapore she found herself en
duing them with the character
istics of the heroes in the novels
she had just read for the
first time. This one was Henry
Esmond, that one the molan
choly Marius, and so forth and
so on; never any villains. It
wasn't worth while to invest
imaginatively a man with evil
projects simply because he was
physically ugly.
Some day she wanted to be
loved as Marius loved Cosette;
but there was another character
vhieh bit far more deeply into
her mind. Why! Because" she
knew him in life, because, wo
long as she could remember, he
had crossed aud recrossed her
vision—Sidney Carton. The
wastrel, the ne’er do-well, who
went mostly nobly to a fine end.
Here, then, but for the time
and place, might be another Sid
ney Carton. Given the proper
incentive, who could say tha* he
might not likewise go nobly to
some fine end? She thrilled. To
find the incentive! But how?
Thither and yon the idea roved,
seeking the way. But always
this new phase in life which
civilization called convention
threw up barrier after barrier.
She could not go to him with
a preachment against strong
drink; she knew from experience
that such a plan would be wast
ed effort. Had she not seen them
go forth with tracts in then
pockets and grins in their
bearhs? To set fire to his imagi
nation, to sting his sense of chiv
alry into being, to awaken his
manhood, she must present somo
irresistible project. She recalled
that day of the typhoon and jhe
sloop crashing on the outer reefs.
The heroism of two beachcombers
had saved all on board and their
own manhood as well.
“Are you returning to Hong
Kong to-morrow by the day
boat?”
For a moment Ruth was aston
ished at the sound of the spin
ster’s voice. She had, by (he
magic of recollection, set the
picture of the typhoon between
herself and her table com
panions: the terrible rollers
thundering on the white shore,
the deafening bellow of the
palms, the thatches of the na
tive huts scattering inland, the
blur of sand dust, and those two
outcasts defying the elements.
“I don’t know,’’ she answered
vaguely.
“But there’s nothing more to
sec in Canton.”
“Perhaps I’m too tired to plan
for to-morrow. Those awful
chairs!
After dinner the spinsters pro
ceeded to inscribe their accus
tomed quota of postcards, and
Ruth was left to herself. She
walked through the office to the
door, aimlessly.
Beyond the steps was a pole
chair in readiness. One of the
coolies held the paper lantern,
near-by stood Ah Cum and the
young unknown, the former pro
testing gently, the latter insis
tent upon his demands.
“I repeat,” said Ah Cum,
“that the venture is not propi
tious. Canton is ail China at
night. If we were set upon T
could not defend you. But I
can easily bring in a sing-song
girl to play for you.”
“No. I want to make my own
selection.”
“Very well, sir. But If you
have considerable money, you
had better leave it in the office
safe. You can pay me when we
return. The sing-song girls in
Hong-Kong are far handsomer.
That is a part of the show in
Hong-Kong. But here it is
China.”
“If you will not take me, I’ll
find some guide who will.”
“I will take you. I simply
warn you.”
Spurlock entered the office,
passed Ruth without observing
her (or if he did observe her,
failed to jcecognize her), and de
posited his funds with the man
ager.
“I advice you against this
trip, Mr. Taber,” said the man
gcr. “Affairs are not nuruu.
in Canton at present. Only a
few weeks ago there was a
bloody battle on the bridge there
between the soldiery and the
local police. Look at these
walls.”
The walls were covered with
racks of loaded rifles. In those
revoluntionary times one had to
he prepared. Some Chinaman
might take it into his head to
shout: “‘Death to the foreign
devils!” And out of that wall
yonder would boil battle and
murder and sudden death. A
white man, wandering about the
streets of Canton at night, was a
challenge to such a catastrophe.
Taber. Ruth stared thought
fully at the waiting coolies. That
did not sound like the name the
young man had offered in the
tower of the water-clock. She
remained by the door until the
walls of the city swallowed the
bobbing lantern. Then she went
into the office.
“What is a sing-song girl?”
she asked.
The manager twisted his mous
tache. “The same as a Japanese
geisha girl ?’ ’
“And what is a geisha girl?”
Not to have heard of the
geisha! It was as if she had
asked “What is Paris?” What
manner of tourist was this who
had heard neither of the geisha
of Japan nor of the sing-song
girl of China? Before he could
marshal the necessary phrases to
explain, Ruth herself indicated
her thought.
“■A bad girl?” She put the
question as she would have put
any question—level-eyed and
level-toned.
Alter a series of mental gym
nastics—occupying the space of
a few seconds—it came to him
with a shock that here was a
new specimen of the species. At
the same time he comprehended
that she was as pure and lovely
as the white orchid of Borneo
and that she did not carry that
ridiculous shield called false
modesty. He could talk to her as
frankly as he could to a man,
“The geisha and the sing-song
girl are professional entertain
ers. They are not bad girls, but
the average tourist has that mis
conception of thenv If some of
them are bad in the sense you
mean, it is because there are had
folks in all walks of life. They
sell only their talents, not their
bodies; they are girls of the
street.’ ’
The phrase was new, but Ruth
nodded understandingly.
‘Still,” went on the manager,
“they are slaves in a sense; they
(TO BE CONTINUED)
TODAY
BY ARTHUR BRISBANE
There is nothing like believing
that you can win. When Caesar
told the frightened boatman that his
boat couldn't sink with him, Caesar,
in it, wiien Napoleon really believed
that his “star” would take care of
him, those famous gentlemen had
the best possible start In any fight
self confidence.
McAdoo, hurrying east from Chi
cago, sticks his head out of the
window and says “we can beat ’em
anyway.”
He looked as confident as Caesar
and Napoleon combined when he
said it, according to the reporters.
Of course, nothing is quite sure.
Unknown Caesars have sunk with
the boatman after telling him the
boat couldn’t sink, and many an un
known Napoleon’s “star” has turned
out to he only -a firet;7
However, McAdoo is the leading
candidate now. There is no doubt
about that. He really expects to
win, anil that’s 40 per cent, of win
ning.
You’ve heard of England’s patrio
tic exhibition at Wembley planned
to boom the British empire and
arouse British patriotism.
The best imperial exhibit shows a
map of thj world of gigantic size,
with the oceans, seas and biggei
lakes made of real water.
llrltlshers walking around the
map see all parts of the earth’s sur
face owned by them lighted up by
red lights from below. They see
thousands of British ships moving
along through the water von the
great world’s trade routes. Signs
tell them that the British flag files
over one quarter of all the land on
earth.
»
When the visitor from Cnnada,
Australia. South Africa, sees that he
says to himself “partnership in the
British empire is a pretty good
thing.”
And other nations Including ours
are bound to give the Britishers
credit for governing ability. You
saw the other day a statement by
the British labor prime minister,
MacDonald, that the whole army of
the British empire is smaller tban
the army of Holland or Spain. That
means good managemeni.
The great Everett cotton mlilB of
Lawrence, Mass., have closed. “No
demand for colored cotton goods.”
And England Is shipp.'ng millions «ot
yards of colored cotton cloth into
this country. The stores dlacovse
that goods sell more easily Vh«i
labelled "made la England.”
Adwrurwof fiWdyAm
wd Ifaggedy Andy
I fcrU
9ra«lU
■anzan's Magical Hobby Horse
carried Raggedy Ann, Raggedy Andy,
Berty Bear away swiftly through the
deep, deep woods.
Uttle Rags puppy dog ran as fast
as he could, but he could not keep up
with his friends, so be stopped to
rest.
When the Magical Hobby Horae
threw Banzan the conjurer over hie
head and the Raggedys and Berty
Bear climbed upon the hobby horse
and cried "Run! Runl Magic Hobby
Horse!” the conjurer did not know
what to do, so he Just sat still where
he had fallen and scratched his head.
"Now!” he said, "The Raggedys
and Berty Bear have not only es
caped, but they have taken my Magic
Hobby Horse as well. What shall I
do?”
Of course there was no one to ans
wer the conjurer, so he did not know
what to do and when he did not know
what to do, he helped himself to an
ice cream soda from the magic soda
water spring.
This made him feel ever so much
better and he thought of a scheme to
fool the Raggedys while he enjoyed
the sodae.
l will conjure the Hobby Horse
over again and make him come back
here!” the cunning Banzan said. And
he got out every last one of his con
juring charms, even the left leg of
a grasshopper whtch wasn’t hardly
even a teeny weeny bit magical and
soon he made the conjuring magic.
Then when he had finished, he
dipped up ten glasses of Ice cream
soda water and with these in front
of him, he waited until the hobby
horse should return.
‘‘Ah! Here they come!” Banzan
said with a laugh, “And the Raggedys
and Berty Bear will be surprised to
find the Magic Hobby Horse has
brought them right back here for me
to capture them again! My won’t they
be s’prised?”
So. when the magical funny Hobby
Horse came up to where the conjurer
sat, he did not even look up from
his sodas.
“I guess you thought, Raggedy Ann
and Raggedy Andy and Berty Bear,
that you had escaped from me! But
I took out my conjuring charms and
I made my hobby horse come back
here. Now I spect you will not try
to escape again! Will you?”
When the Raggedys and Berty Bear
did not reply, the conjurer became
very peevish. “You had better hurry
and answer me when I speak to you!”
the conjurer howled In a very loud
voice, "I can easily conjure you, just
like I did the Hobby Horse!”
But still Raggedy Andy and Rag
gedy Ann and Berty Bear did not
answer. “I guess I shall have to get
a stick and Switch them, so that they
will reply when spoken to.” When the
The Hobby Horse Dashed Away
Through the Woods.
conjurer had cut a long stick he
whirled around and struck where he
thought the Raggedys and Berty Bear
would he sitting upon the Horse’s
back. But when the stick struck, the
Raggedys were not there and the
stick came down with a loud whack
upon the Magical Hobby Horse’s
back.
The Hobby Horse was more sur
prised than Banzan and kicking up
his heels in the air, he dashed away
through the woods. “I shall not stay
and be switched by Banzan, even if
he did make me out of wood and con
jure magic in me! I shall run back
to Raggedy Ann and Raggedy Andy
and belong to them for Banzan Is
too meai^. while the Raggedys are
verv, very nice!”
—f—
Banzan the conjurer was so sur
prised when he struck with his stick
and hit his magical Hobby Horse he
could scarcely believe his eyes.
You see, when he wonted his con
juring Magic on the Hobby Horse
after the Raggedys and Berty Bear
and little Rags puppy dog had run
away with the Hobby Horse. Banzan
expected the Raggedys to come hack
riding upon the Hobby Horse’s back.
Indeed, this is just what would
have happened had it not been for
little Rags puppy dog.
When the Raggedys and Berty
Bear jumped upon the Hobby
Horse’s back and dashe 1 away
through the woods, to escape from
Banzan. they had not taken little
Rags upon the Hobby Horse.
And, «s the Hobby Horse was
magical and could run very, very
fast, little Rags could not keep up
with them, so he ran as hard as he
could until he became tired, then
he sat down and rested.
The Raggedys did not know how
to work the magical Hobby Horse
so that he would go Just wherever
they wished, so they had to go
wherever the Hobby Horse wished.
So when Banzan worked his con
juring magic upon the Hobby
Horse to make him return to the
magical Soda Water spring. the
Hobby Horse turned around as soon \
e» be felt the conjuring magic and
ran with the Raggedys and brrty
Bear back the aame way he had
come before.
Little Rags had rested by this time
and had started to follow the trail
of the Hobby Horse and the Rag
ged ys and Berty Bear.
He had not gone far before he
heard the "COMPITY COMP!” ot
the wooden feet of the Hobby Horse
returning.
"Now I wonder what they are
coming back for? Maybe it is be
cause I have been left behind and
they are returning to get mo!” SUM,
this did not seem to little Rags to be
the case, so he crept behind a stone
He Could Peep Out With One Shoe
Button Eye.
at the side of the path where he
could peep out with one shoe button
eye and watch the Hobby Horse as
he came along.
As soon as the Hobby Horse came
In sight, little Rags puppy dog knew
that the Raggedys had nothing to do
with the direction the Hobby Horse
ran, for they were crying as loudly
as they could, “Stop, Magic Hobby
Horse!" but the Hobby Horse did
not even slow up a tiny smidgin:
“Ha!” little Rags thought. “I will
Jump out at the Hobby Horse just as
he gets here, so the Raggedys and
Berty Bear can get off!’’ And Jtisi
as the Hobby Horse reached the
stone, little Rags, with a loud clotn
bark hopped out from behind the
stone right at the H»uby Horse's
nose.
This surprised the Hobby Horso
so much he stopped and stood upon
his hind legs and the Raggedys an .
Berty bear tumbled off behind.
Then little Rags barked at tha
Hobby Horse’s hind legs and away
the horse went, without the Rag
gedys and Berty Bear.
"My!” the Raggedys and Berty
Bear said as they sat up and brush
ed the dust from their clothes, "It
was a good thing you waited for us,
little Rags!” And little Rags was
very glad, too, for If It had not been
for him, Banxan’s magic would have
carried them right back to the con
jurer and he would have captured
them again.
ANCESTORS
“It ye were Abraham's children, ye
would do the works of Abraham.”—
John 8:89.
It is a curious fact that the people
who boast about their ancestry usual
ly do very little of which their own
children may be proud.
Plutarch says, "It is indeed a de
sirable thing to be well descended,
but the glory belongs to our ances
tors.”
A goodly heritage cannot reason
ably be counted among our personal
virtues.
The only evidence of our being the
sons of a worthy father is that we
should ourselves do works similar to
his.
How futile it is to talk of our honor
able ancestors but do nothing to
show we have inherited their spirit.
What does it profit you to show a
family tree dating from the “May
flower” if you neglect the Church and
leave the government in the hands
of the bosses while you amuse your
self with the socially select?
What is the use of tracing your
origin to the first families of New
Amsterdam unless you stand today
in the forefront of the contest for
religious liberty and popular educa
tion?
— 1 w i
First Aid.
From Life.
Sportsman—Something ought to be
done to conserve our wild life.
Rounder—Repeal the eighteenth
amendment.
Just Like White Lies.
From the Sidney Bulletin.
“Yus, mister, rum’s a curse, all
right. That’s why I drink beer.” “Good
ness me, my man, beer is also a curse:’*
“That’s right mister. But beer t» only
a mild sort of curse—like 'Goodness
me’!”
Another Way to Look at It.
From Passing Show.
Maude—“What a beautiful gown
Helen is wearing. She says it’s im
ported, doesn’t she?”
Marie—"Not exactly. It’s her last sea
son’s dress, he dressmaker has turned
it inside out, agd now she says it’s from
the other side.
Unintentionally Right
From London Tit-Btts.
“Mamma." exclaimed Mary, bursting
Into the room, ‘‘they’re teaching domes,
tic silence at school now."
“You mean domestic science, dear,**
corrected her mother.
"Perhapr.” interposed father mildly,
“the little darling means what she s|
says.”
He Wae Just Celebrating.
From the Illinois Central Magaalne.
An old negro janitor’s employer asked
him why he was sporting around In hie
Sunday clothes when it wasn't a holi
day.”
“Well, you see. boss.” he replied. "I’m
celebratin’ mf golden wedding.*’
"But isn't your wife celebrating tt
with you?*’
"Oh, Mand/t She ain't got nothia*
to do with It. She’s jes my third
wife.”
