c
HERKY
%QUA
RE
A NEIGHBOURLY NOVEL
by GRACE a. RICHMOND
I 3.
’’A year ago lie became so
ill he could hardly keep on,
but he would stay where he
was. He spent his time trying
to find somebody who would
carry on there, if only for a
while, till a certain crisis he
ITelt was coming should be past.
3 didn’t know of this. I Hadn't
beard from him for a long
while, until just yesterday
'when I had a long letter from
his wife. From that I learned
'•that previous letters telling me
of liis condition had miscarried.
I had changed my address
.more than once during the year
-—the letters hadn’t been for
warded. Janet Maepherson
bad brought Jamie back to
Scotland to die. . . . Hut he
hadn’t been able to give it up
"that be should find another
man to take his plane at his
South African station. He was
praying with every breath that
before he went he should have
the joy of knowing that some
body would carry on there. It
was only a two-year term he
was begging for. At the on 1
■of two years a man he knew
was planning to go, but could
n’t be released from his present
task earlier. ‘Only for two
years,’ begged Jamie Macpher
*on of me. ‘Won’t you give
that nineli of your life? Gordie,
won’t you piek up the torch
that T have to drop, while it’s
still blazing?”
viaekay looked down ar, ms
plate for an instant. Toe room
■was ro still flint more than
those nearest Doctor Maclcay
could honr the intake of the
father’s breath.
"That letter had been two
months finding me. Meanwhile,
I’d agreed to go to a church in
this city—in the slums. . . .
You know”—here a little smile
touched his lips as his eyes
again met l.is father’s piercing
paze—"1 was always wanting
to be in the slums. Last night
while I was going over and
over the contents of that letter,
someone called me on the tele
phone to say that in the early
morning that old church
■where I was to go had burned
down. Rebuilding it couldn’t
be thought of . . . Such co
incidences in a man’s life don’t
happen. . . . Last night at
midnight I sent a cable to Ed
inburgh to tell Jamie Mac
pherson 1 would go to South
Africa for the two years. This
noon I had the answer from his
wife. ‘Cable reached Jamie
hour before passing.’ ”
He sat down, and his lowered
•eyes refused to meet those of
the silent, moved people about
him who were watching him. A
strong color glowed in his face,
and -as if it w»re a reflection
-—in that of Jo Jenncy, opposite
him. Her eyes were twin lights,
biiiliunt, dazzling.
Nobody stirred —not men
Sngc Piorpont. .bwn Se.liuy
Ici Chase’s think cheek a tear
was rolling. Sally was chok
ing back the impulse to <*ry out
to Cordon Mackay: “You’re
splendid!“ Dr. Richard Fiske
ent steadily regarding the
younger Scotsman, as if here
was something new to his ex
perience. Then Carmichael
JVlnckay got to his feet.
, '‘I have been arabeetious for
niy son,” lie said. “1 cam’
across just now, a fortnight in
advance of an engagement 1
.had made to Deture in this
country, to add my influence
to the effort Doctor Chase was
intending to tunic? tonight to
persuade (Jordon to accept this
opportunity to serve a great
tuhairch. Doctor Chase is right
—the Scots are stubborn..
'When we set our wills we ean
na’ change them easily. P.ut. he
is also right—1 admeet, it—
that when our hairts become
aflnrne they take change of
our affairs. (Jordon’s hairt lias
taken ehairge of his for the
sake of Jamie Macppherson,
whom I also knew and loved.
The Craze for Antiques
We have no sympathy for its vic
tims. but let us hasten to sav that
vr allude only to those people who
cumber their homes with things on
ly because they are old. We have
seen too many rooms that look like
second hand furniture displays, too
many hideous old clocks and rickety
spinning wheels, to have any pa
tience with them: and have been
disliked by too many people from
whom we have pried ihe informa
tion that their “collections” have no
personal or historical significance.
We admire the relics which are a
«art of a family's history, or which
. . .1 can only say that I ara
proud of this, my son."
As he sat down Gordon’s
eyes lifted to his. and a look
of the deepest understanding
passed between them. From
that moment the son was like
a new man; his face was ablaze
with some strange joy.
Sage Pierpont drew a
mighty breath. "Well," be
said, “it looks as if the thing
was settled. I’m terribly sor
ry—my heart was set on this
thing, as Doctor Chase’s was—
since—" he floundered a little
—"since lie felt he absolutely
couldn’t go on himself. But I
guess all we can do is to wish
Mr. Mack ay luck, if he’s set on
taking all the toughest jobs
that come along. If Dr. Car
michael Maekay backs bis son
like that—well—two Scotch
wills—not to mention their
hearts ..."
When Gordon Maekay met
S h u y 1 cr Chase, sometime
during the next 10 minutes, the
guests having risen and gen
eral conversation having taken
t lie place of strained silence, he
drew him to one side.
Doctor ( base, tie saiu, 1
can never thank you. Hut not
for what you tried to do—for
something quite different. I
know, to come to the place
where you are tonight, you
have you’ll let me say it?—
‘fought with'beasts at Ephes
us,’ as any man in such con
ditions must. The sight of
what the victory in that fight
has made you, is what I am so
grateful to you for. Tt’s the
thing another man ean’t forget
—the memory of it stays with
him, as my memory of Jamie
Macpherson’s bravery stays
with me. It’s the greatest
thing one man can do for an
other—to give him the sight of
a splendid courage like that.
“I don’t deserve that, Gor
don,” said Schuyler Chase, af
ter a minute of silence.
“You do deserve it. I’d
fight any man who said you
didn’t.”
The two clasped hands. It
was the clasp of men who re
spect and love each other—'and
see in each other something
deeply to admire.
It was half an hour before
Maekay could get a word with
Jo Jenney. Meanwhile, he
could guess by her face the
confusion of her thoughts. The
dramatic crisis past—which
had taken her out of herself
with pride in him—her own
problem had come uppermost.
Well enough he knew what she
must be thinking. It was that
lie couldn’t be quite all things
to all men, and that one man
must be left, out of his plans
—one who sorely needed him.
ill* was anxious to reassure her.
“You know,” he said, when
after careful maneuvering he
had got her to himself for a
moment, a little apart from the
others, in a drnperied window
seat, “this makes no manner of
difference in my looking after
Julian. I managed to see him
today. He’s wild with excite
ment over going to South Af
rica with me. It will be the
best possible thing for him, to
be cut off for two years from
all the old contacts with life as
it’s lived in this city. In the
slums I could have found work
for him; in South Africa the
work is waiting for him. Hard,
interesting work, such as he
needs.”
“Oh!” She found it diffi
cult to assimilate all in an in
stant this amazing plan. Then,
as she searched his face, she
| saw in it his confidence that it
| was a better plan for Julian
i than they could have made
| without this intervention of
| fate—of Providence.
“lie’ll be my right-hand
man; lie'll he with me con
stantly. He’ll grow strong phy
sically and mentally—and I be
have come down f ’om great states
men. soldiers and rulers, and so
have direct personal significance.
But these people far from home,
dodging In and out of antique shops
along the highways, we pity. It Is
a perverted taste that separates
them from their money and classi
fies them.
We like souvenirs that recall
pleasant personal experiences when
they are natural—a shell from a
seashore, a shining stone from a
lake, a pine cone picked up under a
tree associated with a person or an
event in which we participated. But
not the manufactuicd tilings made
lieve spiritually—with the de
mands we shall make upon his
manhood.”
‘‘It’s a rough life—isn't it!”
‘‘lie needs u rough life, does
n’t heT We shall be able to put
enough fineness into it to keep
it from hurting him. Why, it
will make him, Josephine I If
you could have seen his face
__ I >
She looked awray. “You see
—it’s impossible for me to keep
from thinking of him as my
little brother. I want—I know
I’m not logieaW-to shield him
from temptation for a while,
at least.”
“You can’t shield him from
temptation—and you don’t
want to. You want to make
him strong to meet it. There’s
only one way to do that
give him a safeguard against it
by building up It is moral fiber.
I thoroughly believe this new
experience will do that.”
“If it does—it will be be
cause he’s with you.” She
looked at him as one might at
a deliverer from trouble.
“Being with me will help, I
know, lie seems to like me. He
said today, ‘I shouldn’t dare to
go alone, I feel like something
weak just coming out of a shell.
But to go with you—it’ll be
like having an older brother
along.’ Surely you’ll feel that
way about it too, Josephine?”
Yes. feme uooded slowly.
“ Yes, I nan trust him with you.
you. It’s just that it’s hard to
get used, all in a minute, to
such a great change in plan.
For the moment, while you
were speaking, an hour ago,
telling us about Jamie Mac
pherson, I forgot everything—
even Julian—in my thought of
that dying man, and in my
pride in you. II was proud of
you, (Jordon Mack ay—a n d
proud that you were my friend.
It was a tremendous challenge,
and you met it. I should have
known you would.’'
He was silent. Then, as Sage
Pierpont, espying him across
the room, called genially:
“Come, Maekay, we want you
back here to settle a point of
dispute,’’ he said to Jo, vho
moved forward with him:
“This bit of talk can’t end
here. When we’re back at
Cherry House I’m going to ar
range it somehow so that we
can have an hour together, no
matter how late jt is. They’d
all go fairly early, on Doctor
Chase’s account. But with you
leaving in the morning, I must
see you for an hour, whether
either of us gets any sleep or
not. Are you willing? Because
even if you aren’t—”
He smiled, with many things
behind the smile. She looked
up, with a sudden lift of the
chin.
“If you didn't insist on that
talk, I should,’’ she said.
“Why, you’re going to Soutn
Africa, Gordon Maekay! That’s
—a million miles away!”
She heard his voice in her
ear: “Oh, no, it isn’t. I can be
nearer you there than here—if
) f
“This is what we’re discuss
ing, Mackay,” boomed the
voice of Sage Pierpont. “Just
how far is it to the South Afri
can post you’re going to?”
“This distance covered by a
flash of light in the millionth
part of a second,” answered
Gordon Mackay under his
breath for only Jo to hear.
Then aloud he said, “Have you
a map at hand, Mr. Pierpont?”
XXIX.
It was long past midnight in
Cherry Square. Returning
from the Pierpont dinner and
bringing Dr. Carmichael Mac
kay with them, the group of
people had found it hard to
separate. They had indeed not
separated until they had sat
for an hour before the fire at
Cherry House, the blaze built
by Gordon Mackay in a hurry.
His father had been the logical
center or everybody’s inter
est, and Doctor Mackay had
seemed to feel himself peculiar
ly at home among these people,
who were all so much of his
own sort, strangers though
they were.
But at last Sally had insist
only to sell to strangers.
Old bedsteads rescued from sec
ond hands stores and polished up
are an abomination to us. slept cn
by nobodie3 or anybody. If a family
has no history. It belittles itself by
scattering old things over its home
that bear no relation to It. For It,
new things, worth something, are
better to have and leave We have
an old gold pen ar.d handle, given
to us by our grannfather, that we
cherish. With it se wrofe the first
checks we ev signed. W > have a
go.ri matchh g*\en us by a lHend
of our you h. Masonic emblems
picked up a.' er the Bat‘le o: Ce
uai Creek, the slues our son came
! ed on taking Schuyler away to
| bed, eager though he was to
j stay and seeming strangely
supported against undue fa
tigue. A room had been of
fered Doctor Mackay, which he
had been constrained to accept.
‘‘I’ve just one sleeping
place over at my quarters,” his
son had admitted reluctantly
„«*Tather might roll off it—it
isn’t quite so wide as he is, I’m
afraid. Hut I’ll expect him
over to breakfast. Nobody else
Can give him his oatmeal por
ridge as I can; and 1 know
What lie wants with it.”
So now the house was quiet.
But candle light still burned in
the room downstairs where Jo
.Tenney and (Jordon Mackay
were to take leave of each oth
er—for two years. In the
juorning .To was to leave for
her college. There would be
little sleep for her, but some
how she didn’t eare if there
were none at all.
Sally Chase smiled back at
them as she left them. Mackay
had asked her permission to
stay another hour, though b>
the time the last footstep had
gone up the stairs the hands of
the old clock pointed to half
after one in the morning. She
shook hands with him at the
foot of that staircase; he felt
in every look and word of hers
how deeply grateful she was tc
him.
He came back into the pat'
lor and softly closed the door
Then he stood still with his
bark against it, looking over at
Jo. She sat upon an old
fashioned footstool beside the
fire, and the light played over
her face and hair, and touched
the shimmering whiteness of
her shoulders into a ruddiness
dress and the ivory whiteness
of her shoulders into a ruddi
ness liks that of the summer
dawn.
'‘Sit still, please,” he said,
as she would have risen. ”1
want to see you like that. I
want to look at you like that
till I’ve burned the picture of
you into my brain. I want to
take it with me to South Af
rica.”
‘‘South Africa!” She repeat
ed it with a note of wonder. “1
* can’t believe you are going to
South Africa—to be gone two
years. You know-—the thing I
really think is—that you will
never come back—to stay. Men
like you don’t stop doing a
thing like that.”
‘‘Sometimes they do. In this
case, as I told you all, there's
another chap who has promised
and made all his plans to go
after two years. lie can’t get
loose now from the job lie’s do
ing. No, I don’t think it’s a
life-work that’s waiting for me
there. I’m not a Jamie Mac
pherson—I’m not pretending
to be. It’s no heroic flinging
myself upon the altar I’ve
done. I’m just a sort of relief
guard tor the tune being, tc
ease Jamie's passage out of this
world. But I’ll admit I’m
keen for the experience—in one
way. In another—it takes all
my will to go awav from you.”
“You said”—Jo lifted what
was now a glowing face to him
—“under your breath you said
—brave words about being
nearer me there than here. 1
find it hard to believe them.”
“Being nearer you there
than here—if! I think that’s
what I said.” He came across
the floor to stand before her
“If—you give me what I want
to take with me. Otherwise
well—a million miles is a short
distance compared with the
distance between us then, if 1
have to go without that.”
“Even if you had my prom
ise to—think about what migh'
be when you came back?”
(TO BE CONTINUED)
Q. How long has Primo de Riv
era been the dictator of Spain?
A. He came into power, Septem
ber 13, 1923. At first he had a di
rectorate of eight members, hut was
alone responsible to the king and
to the people. Later, the director
ate was changed somewhat, and his
collaborators became ministers.
Their power is restricted, however
and important business is handled
by the dictator.
heme in from Prance. Thc» are
ua’ things I t have and to held.
Not So Dumb.
From Gemuethliche Sache, Leipzig
j “You never play any music now!"
“No, my neighbor lent me $20 and
I had to give him my piano key as
a pledge.”
Q What is the present total cap
I italization of the telephone indus
; try? W A. W.
A. The capitalization of all of the
telephone companies in the United
States on June 30 was $3,630,000,
000. The total mileage of wire was
59,2^5,000 miles.
BAR TREE OF
DANIEL BOONE
Tablet Placed Where Pio
neer Left Inscription
Where 3 States Meet
From the Louisville Courier
Journal.
Septembe 3 was a great day at
the point where Virginia, North
Carolina and Tennessee meet. What
is said to b1 the best mountain
road was op.»ied across the Blue
Ridge at Fancy Gap. but the cen
tral figure of the occasion and the
real excuse for the celebration was
•hat lugged old pioneer, Daniel
Boone, whose character and exploits
are being brought home vividly to us
by spoken word and printed page
today.
Ther at Fancy Gap stands a huge
tree, possibly 400 years old, upon
whose bark is carved tire inscrip
tion: “D. Boone cilled a bar on
this tree, 1780." Daniel Boone was
only a youth of 25 years at the
time of this exploit. His family
Lad removed from Pennsylvania to
the banks of the Yadkin, in North
Carolina, and it was shortly after
lie ‘‘cilled the bar" at Fancy Gap
that he gave up the life of a farmer
and set out to follow his natural
bent as a hunter and explorer. It
was at Fancy Gap, too, that a
pack of wolves chewed up Daniel’s
hurting dogs. The cave where the
wolves lived and the bear tree were
marked with appropriate monu
ments and tables setting forth
oriefly the facts at the recent cele
bration.
Daniel Boone “bar" trees were
quite common some years ago. Of
course, many of them are fakes,
some done with the ulterior motive
of attracting tourist business, oth
ers out of mischief As alleged
Boone tree in Iroquois park, for
instance, bears the legend: "D.
Boone Kill (a word illegible; either
deer or bear) 1803.” This is con
sidered by many to be a hoax be
cause Boone moved from Kentucky
to Missouri in 1795. However,
Boone made at least one trip back
to Kentucky, and he mav have
done the carving at that time.
The story of thi3 trip back to
Kentucky is interesting enough to
repeat here. Boone had left Ken
tucky deeply in debt. He met with
111 success in hunting and it was
some time before he collected a
store of peltry sufficient to give
him cash enough do pay his cred
itors. Without a book account,
Boone walked back to Kentucky
and paid everyone what he de
manded, returning to his western
home with one silver half dollar
left.
A3 to the “bear trees,”’ it was
Boone's habit, a3 well as that of
other hunters, to make such carved
records and the fakers have taken
advantage of this custom. Often
adventurers in the Indian country
carved words in tree bark for the
guidance of others who might fol
low. Sometimes these pioneers, who
were real children of the wild3,
scratched their names and exploits
on cliffs and boulders. When Boone
and Michael Stoner ware sent to
Kentucky to rescue Virginia sur
veyor, threatened by Indians, they
descended the Kentucky river,
scratched their names on a rock
at its mouth, and then paddled
down the Ohio to the falls, where
Louisville later was to arise, whence
they set out overland for Mann’s
Lick. Three miles southwest of the
river Boone carved the inscription,
"D- Boone, 1774.” on a beech tree
which some older residents re
member having seen.
The Boone beeches were the
Egyptian obelisks, the limestone
rocks, the Rosetta stones of the
pioneer days. They were the his
toric records which today are
found in the personal column:? or
the sporting notes of the daily pa
pers.
OLD ROLLING STOCK
Washington Star
What becomes of the old railway
cars and engines that have outlived
-heir usefulness?
They are sold to small roads and
to contractors. The market for
them is worldwide. The supply is
tremendous, but the demand keeps
pace with it steadily.
When someone in India or Africa
wants to build and equip a short
railroad cheaply he sends word to
an agent in New York. The rest is
easy. There are a number of dealers
in used railroad equipment from
rails to rolling stock in New York
and Chicago. The advertisements of
their stocks on hand appear in ev
ery railroad journal. Negotiations
are concluded quickly and it is not
long before a big tramp steamer,
loading at the Brooklyn docks, has
a consignment of hundreds of tons
of railway cargo tucked away in its
hold to be unloaded at some port at
the w orld's end.
One of the largest lots of used
railroad material ever put on the
market at one time was some years
ago. when the motive power of the
New York elevated was changed
from steam to electricity. There
were 340 engines and 134' cars dis
carded. Only cars of the oldest type
were retired.
The engines were sold quickly, but
a few of the cars remained for a
long time in the storage yards up in
the Bronx. One may travel the
world around and find these ex
elevated engines working hard in
some of the queerest corners of the
earth. Same are in Africa, some
in India; they are scattered all over
South America.
FAIR EXCHANGE
From Pele Mele, Paris.
Bank Clerk—Now you work in a
theater you onti send me a few
tickets fcr the theater.
Theater Clerk—Certainly; and in
return you can send me a few notes
from your bank.
True to His Art.
From Life.
Lady bystander (at the seaside);
Wiry don’t you jump in and save
him?
Another bystander (an actor);
Wait till he goes down for the third
time. I want to make tills dramatic.
Salts Fine for
Aching Kidneys
When Back Hurt* Flush Your
Kidneys as You Clean
Your Bowels
—
Most folks forget that the kidneys,
like the bowels, sometimes get slug
gish and clogged and need a Hushing
occasionally, else we have backache
and dull misery In the kidney region,
severe headaches, rheumatic twinges,
torpid liver, acid stomach, sleepless
ness and all sorts of bladder disorders.
You simply must keep your kidneys
active and clean and the moment you
feel an ache or pain In the kidney
region begin drinking lots of water.
Also get about four ounces of Jad
Salts from any good drug store here,
take a tablespoonful In a glass of wa
ter before breakfast for a few days
and your kidneys will then act fine.
This famous salts is made from the
add of grapes and lemon juice, com*
blned wilh lithla, and is Intended to
flash clogged kidneys and help stimu
late them to activity. It also help*
neutralize the acids In the urine so
they no longer irritate, thus helping
to relieve bladder disorders.
Jad Salts is Inexpensive; makes a
delightful effervescent llthia water
drink which everybody should taka
now and then to help keep their kid
neys clean.
A well-known local druggist says he
sells lots of Jad Salts to folks who
believe In trying to correct kidney
trouble while It is only trouble.
Gas, heartburn, sick headache,
nausea, over-acidity and other di
gestive disorders quickly and sure
ly relieved. Safe. Pleasant. Not a
laxative. Send for free samples to
Bell 4 Co., Inc., Orangeburg, N. Y.
Normalize* Digestion and!
Sweetens the Breath
Hot water
Sure Relief
ELL-ANS
FOR INDIGESTION
Z'H AND 75* PACKAGES EVERYWHERE
Had to Come Again
Pedro Martinez, twenty-four, "no
spi k much Engl is," but he knows how
to make love. Pedro went to see Po
Ice Judge Wade Moore at Pittsburg,
Calif., with Francisca Garcia, Frau
cisca had just arrived from Mexico
and Pedro made the judge understand
they wished to be married. Pedro
proudly displayed his license, obtained
earlier in the day from the county
clerk, and prepared to say “I do.”
Before the judge tied the knot lie
scrutinized the license and discov
ered that it permitted Pedro to fish in
California.
Easiest and cheapest way to put on
style is with clothes.
Matrimony — one of the United
States hat isn't on the map.
MahesLife
Sweeter
Next time a coated tongue, fetid
breath, or acrid skin gives evidence
of sour stomach—try Phillips Milk of
Magnesia!
(Jet acquainted with this perfect an
ti-acid that helps the system keep
sound and sweet. That every stomach
needs at times. Take it whenever a
hearty meal brings any discomfort.
Phillips Milk of Magnesia lias won
medical endorsement. And convinced
millions of men and women they didn’t
have “indigestion.’* Don’t diet, and
don’t suffer; just remember Phillips.
Pleasant to take, and always effective.
The name Phillips is important; it
identifies the genuine product. “Milk
>f Magnesia" has been the IT. 8. regis
tered trade mark of tne Charles H.
Phillips Chemical Co. and Its pro*
ieeessor Charles II. I’ht lips since 1876
PHILLIPS
L Milk
of Magnesia
