MEN go to their graves ignorant
of the suffering an over-strong
pipe has caused others. But now, we
trust, Father will lose no time in dis
covering Sir Walter Raleigh, whose
mild, fragrant blend is as popular witli
the smokid-at, as it is delightful to the
smoker. This blend of choice Burleys
has plenty of body and a very special
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sensation of increasing enjoyment.
How to Take Care of Your Pipe
(HmtNt. I) Don't switch tobaccos when you
break in a new pipe. Stick to the same bf'ld
for 30or more pipefuls. Muting tobaccos bl 1 \
a pipe either strong or flat. Send for our flee
booklet."How to Take Ore of Your Pipe."
Dept. 93, The Brown & Williamson Tobacco
Corporation, Louisville, Ky.
1
SirWvlter
Raleigh
Smoking Tobacco
milder
Transferring Came
Deer have been brought from the
West to replenish the blg-gutne popu
lation of eastern forests, hut without
marked success. However, transfei
of game from parts of the country
which are overstocked to places when
It is wanted Is being done wherevei
practical.
Busy Department
In the tiseul year ended In June,
1929, the Department of Agriculture
distributed more than 25,000,000 copier
»f publications.
He Was There
“The lights failed.’’
“What then?"
“Well—er—1 didn’t"
A girl In high-heeled shoes walks
in/ her toes; but what of It? She
jJkes it
Laughter ndds to beauty, but weep
ing never does.
FAMILY DOCTOR ji
| LEARNED THIS ABOUT
CONSTIPATION \
Dr CakTwdl loved people. His
years of practice convinced him
many were ruining their health by
careless selection of laxatives. He
determined to write a harmless pre
scription which would get at the
cause of constipation, and correct it.
Today, the prescription he wrote
in 1885 is the world’s most popular
laxative! He prescribed a mixture
of herbs and other pure ingredients
now known as Dr. Caldwell’s Syrup
Pepsin, in thousands of cases where
bad breath, coated tongue, gas,
headaches, biliousness and lack of
appetite or energy showed the
bowels of men, women and children
were sluggish. It proved successful
in even the most obstinate cases;
old folks liked it for it never gripes;
children liked its pleasant taste.
All drugstores today have Dr
Caldwell’s Svrup Pcnsin W bottles.
THE
MASTER MAN
DY
RUBY M. AYRES
Author of •'The Phantom Lover,” “The Girl Next Door," etc,
ipnr...ee i. —■ P
Suddenly she began to cry. |
Everything hud gone wrong
with her, she told herself, sob
bing stormily.
People always say that when
for the first time trouble
knocks at their door; they are
10 angry and sorry for them
lelves that they arc firmly con
vinced that their whole life
has been one suffering and
failure.
Patricia had never known a
moment’s care or responsibili
ty until Peter Rolf's death ; she
had lived her life utterly
jelfishly, and without thought
for others; she had grown to
believe that it was a state of
things which could continue
Indefinitely; the shock of re
sent events had seemed like
the destruction of her whole
world; she felt herself utterly
ilone in the ruins of all she
had believed to stand for hap
piness.
If she had been quite honest
with herself she would have
admitted that her greatest
trouble now was the fact that
ghe had quarrelled with Mi
chael Rolf and made him dis
like her; she could have bitten
her tongue through with rage
when she remembered how she
had told him she would marry
the dead man’s son and get his
money that way. What mad
ness could have driven her?
She began to pace up and
down, wringing her hands; she
knevr that now there was very
little to hope for from him; he
was glad to sec her humbled
and disappointed; he would
most certainly do nothing to
help her in the future.
She thought of all the men
whom she had known, and
whom she might have married;
she had dismissed them from
her life one after another, \ 1th
no tnougnt lor them save that
they were not good enough;
but now.there was still
Bernard Chesney.
He loved her, poor boy, in
spite of everything; unci the
thought of his devotion
warmed her sore heart; he
would not fail her, she would
show Michael Rolf that she
had no need to fall back on
him and his reluctant charity.
She sat down to write to
Bernard.
For once in her life she felt
a genuine Affection for him; he
would take care of her; he
would save her from the hide
ous nightmare of a future
which was lying in wait.
The Chesney's had plenty of
money, and he was their only
son. Marriage with him would
not be such a bad thing.
She managed to put a great
deal of sincerity and distress
into her letter; she told him
how unhappy she was, and
that her one comfort was the
thought of his parting words
to her; she wanted him—
would he eoine to her as soon
ns possible? There was nobody
else in all the world who ca/‘d
anything for her, or how trou
bled she was.
“I suppose you have beard
by now that Mr. Milward and
Michael Rolf are one and the
same,” she wrote. “I never
liked him, and now... .but I
forgot that he is your friend.
Come to me soon—your very
unhappy Patricia.”
She posted the letter and
went back to the house feeling
more confident and secure.
Sim had arranged her own
future without help from Mi
chael Rolf, and she would
make him furious by engaging
■ herself to his friend.
‘‘If he thinks lie can master
me, he will see that he is mis
taken,” was the thought in her
mind, as she settled down to
wait happily for Chesney’s re
ply
He would not write, she was
sure. He would come to her.
She calculated the time. He
would get her letter in the
w
0
morning, and of course would
start at once—therefore she
might expect him to lunch.
She felt almost happy as
she waited. Life was not going
to be such a bad thing, after
all, if she made the most of its
opportunities.
The morning brought her a
letter from Mr. Philips. He
had had a visit from Michael
Rolf, it appeared, and was
very much surprised to find
that he had been in England
for some months.
“He tells me," so he wrote,
“that he has already met you,
and that you have spoken to
gether about his father’s will.
1 am sure you will find that
the son is prepared to make
provision for you, as I intimat
ed, and he has instructed me
that you are to stay on at Clay
ton Wold for as long as you
wish, at his expense.’’
Patricia crushed the letter
in her hand. How dared he so
Condescend to her? She would
not take a farthing of his mon
ey, or spend one night more in
his house than she was obliged.
She would not answer Mr.
Philip’s letter until she could
tell him that she was to be
married. She would not com
municate with Michael at all—
lie could find out for himself if
lie was in any way interested.
She ordered an extravagant
lunch for Chesney and when
she thought it was about time
for him to arrive she went
down the drive to meet him.
It was a dull, thundery sort
of day, sunless and oppressive.
The road that wound away
to the village looked dusty
and dry, and though Patricia
walked to the drive gates a
dozen times there was no sign
of Chesney.
ivt two o ciocK sne was Hun
gry, so had her lunch alone.
Mr. Chesney’s car lias proba
bly broken down,” she told the
maid, conscious of the girl’s
surprised look. “He can have
lunch later, when he comes.”
But Chesney did not come
and Patricia had her tea alone
also.
“He must be away,” she ex
cused him to herself. “They
will have to send my letter on
to him. He will wire directly
he gets it.”
But the day passed and
there was no message of any
sort, and Patricia began to feel
angry.
“Michael Rolf has seen
him,” was the thought that
leapt to her mind. “Michael
Rolf has said something to pre
vent him from coming.”
She cried herself to 3leep
that night. They were only
tears of anger. She really cared
nothing for Chesney, but she
felt thoroughly miserable, and
she longed to see him, even if
only that he might give her
back her poise and confidence.
It seemed an endless time
since she bad left him that day
by the river. She told herself
in depression that she felt 10
years older than she had done
when he lay at her feet and the
gramophone played across the
water.
"When she said *he lubb’d
me, she didn’t speak true:
So I’m off with the old lub,
an’ on wid the new.
The silly lines heat through
her head as she fell asleep, and
were still haunting her when
she awoke; she was thankful
when the maid brought tea 1
and letters.
Patricia sat up eagerly
amongst her pillows; she did
not hear the girl’s “Good
morning”—she was sorting
the little heaps of letters
through with trembling hands.
Was there—would there be?
....Then she sank back with
a little sigh of relief, for there
was one in Bernard Chesney’s
writing.
Now everything would bo
explained and arranged, and
Impractical '‘Opiiinism.’*
Frcm New York World.
The Issuing of optimistic state
ments by President, Cabinet officers,
captains of industry, bankers, brok
ers, editors, reporters, outgoing
steamship passengers and incoming
steamship passengers has been car
ried to such lengths in the last de
cade that the vocabulary of confi
dence has gone stale. The ordinary
language in which men reassure
themselves ha.s been so overworked
that in days like these when leaders
of opinion ought to be in a position
to steady the public mind they find
that nearly everything they say
sounds like Charles M. Schwab ar
riving on the Aquitania. 4
No doubt it is difficult to talk op
tirnistically to the man w ho has jir
I had his account closed out or eve:
to the man who has seen his favor
ite issue decline 90 points. And i
optimism consisted in telling then
that stocks are going back befor
Christmas to where they were ii
August it would be a poor kind o
talk to indulge In. What can be san
and what very much needs to b
said is that however sour things m.
look to Individuals at the momen
the country has not suffered a cata
trophe. Its power to produce weal
i3 unimpaired; its power to consun
she would be able to write to
Mr. Philips.
Already she began to think
of her wedding—necessarily
quiet it would have to be, un
fortunately! She drank her
tea, pulled the pillow more
comfortably beneath her head
and opened her letter.
It began: Dear Miss Rolf.."
and for a moment Patricia's
heart seemed to stop beating.
What was the meaning of it?
He had always called her by
her Christian name. She forced
herself to read on:
“I am dreadfully sorry that
I shall not be able to come and
see you, as I should very much
like to do, or to answer your
kind letter in the way which I
feel it should be answered, but
by the time this reaches you I
shall be on my way to Ameri
ca, where I am going on busi
ness for my father’s firm. 1
should have written to tell you
before, but everything has
been arranged so suddenly,
and I know that you have
your own affairs to occupy
you without being worried by
mine. Yes—I knew about Mii
ward, or rather Michael Rolf,
as I suppose we must now call
him. He is a fine chap and,
as you know, one of my great
est friends.
“Kindest regards. Yours
ever sincerely.
“Bernard Chesney.”
Patricia closed her eyes with
a little feeling of faintness; it
was a dream, she was sure it
must be a dream; she was not
fully awake yet—soon she
would be thoroughly roused
and find this letter just a
phantom imagining.
She lay quite still, hardly
daring to breathe; then she
opened her eyes desperately,
and they again fell on the for
mal, written words.
“ ... .You have your own af
fairs to occupy you, without
being worried by mine....”
She sat up in bed with a
stifled exclamation, and the
haunting song began again in
her head:
When he said he lubb’d me,
he didn’t speak true;
For lie’s off wid the ole lub
an’ on wid de new.
She hid her face against her
clenched hands, lie had sworn
that he loved her, lie had said
that if she wanted him she had
only to send or write, and now
... .he had gone to America to
escape her, the whole letter
was just a subterfuge, an ex
cuse; it was either that lie had
no use for her now he knew
she had lost her money or—
that Michael Rolf had inter
fered !
It was a terrible shock to
Patricia’s pride; she felt as if
everyone must know about it,
and be laughing at her. She
stayed indoors all day and re
fused to see anyone.
The servants at Peter Rolf’s
had never liked Patricia, chief
ly because she had never al
lowed them to do so, but they
knew all about the will now,
and Avere vaguely sorry for
her.
Patricia did not want pity.
The kindly commiseration in
the eyes of the maid who wait
ed upon her scorched her
pride. That she should have
come to this! That even Ber
nard Cliesney, who once would
have been beside himself with
joy at the thought of marry
ing her should have gone to
the other side of the world to
escape the now doubtful hon
or.
In the evening a letter came
from Michael Rolf; he was
staying in town, he told her,
but should be coming down to
Clayton Wold in a day or two.
Tn the meantime lie lmd seen
his lawyer and had arranged
to allow Patricia $300 a year
and to give her the freehold of
a small house about a mile
from Clayton Wold.
“You will n^4- be separated
from your friends if you live
there—” so lie wrote. “And
of course, I will have the place
done up for you as nice as pos
sible. I hope this will be an
agreeable arrangement.”
Patricia tore the letter to
shreds and flung them from
her. Oh, how she hated him!
To coolly suggest pensioning
ealth Is unimpaired. There will be
any cases of Individual hardship
ut no hardship like that which is
lmcst normal in other countries. In
ry large degree the present ex
ement on the Stock Exchange is
'•ncerned with a gambler’s change
; fortune in the distribution of sur
..is luxury money. The American
jple has been gambling furiously
ut it has been gambling largely
ith the surplus of its astonishing
rosperity.
No doubt if fear and panic were
rmitted to get going the effects
ight be felt on the wages and
ofits of business. But there is no
ason why they should be allowed
her off as if she had been b
servant or a poor relation; t«
settle her into the house which
hail always been looked upon
as a kind of minor dowei
house in the days of Peter
Rolf; to her passionate pride
and impetuosity it seemed that
he could have offered her no
greater insult.
To have all her friends pity
ing her; to have the whole
countryside laughing at hei
downfall. She would rather die
than accept such an offer!
Why, in his father’s lifetime
she had spent more than $300
a year on frocks alone.
She paced the garden irt ut
ter misery; there seemed no
body in all the world whe
cared what became of her.
There were other men who
had professed to care for her
but after Cliesney’s letter slit
would rather have died than
approach them in any way
She was sure that Michael had
influenced Chesney—the more
she thought of it the deepei
grew her eonvietoon that in
some way he was responsible
She took no notice of Mi
chad’s letter, and she had not
written to Mr. Philips. She
hated them both—it made hei
writhe to think that these twe
men had met and talked ovei
her future, and calmly decided
how much she should he given
Given! She would take noth
ing! She would rather starve
than accept a shilling from this
man who had so insulted her;
she would work for her living
if needs be. She looked at her
hands, such white, useless
looking hands they were. How
could she ever hope to turn
them to any account?
She passed another restless
night, hardly sleeping at all.
and in the morning she felt ill
and wretched.
vv nen tne maid brought tea
Patricia asked hopelessly if
there were any letters.
“Only one, miss—” The girl
laid it beside Patricia on the
quilt.
Patricia looked at it eagerly,
but the writing was only that
of a girl friend, and she did
not trouble to open the en
velope until she was dressed.
But later, as she read the
rather effusive lines, her face
changed a little. Patricia had
always liked Effie Shackle—
they had been good friends,
and she knew that Effie was
fond of her.
“I am so grieved to hear of
Mr. Rolf’s death, you poor
dear!” so the letter began. “It
must have been a terrible shock
for you. "Would you like me
to come and stay with you for
a time till things have settled
down a little? Or will you come
and stay with us. Mother sends
her fondest love, and says I
must tell you how very wel
come you will be. Come as soon
as you feel able, and stay a?
long as you like with your lov
ing Effie.”
Patricia’s spirit went up
with a bound; she wondered
why she had never thought ol
the Shackles before; she might
have known how willing they
would be to receive her; tears
of relief rushed to her eyes.
Here was a real friend at
last! She sat down then and
there and answered the letter
gratefully.
(TO Bi CONTINUED)
Incomes of Five Million.
Millionaires are common in the
United States today, even when
stock market flurries are at theii
worst—that is, if by millionaire we
mean a person having $1,000,000
To be a millionaire really worth
talking about these days one should
have an income of $1,000,000, and
even that verges on the common
place, for there were 290 of them in
this country in 1927 and probably
more in 1928.
To be really exclusive, cne should
have an income of $5,000,000 or
more, for there were only 11 such
incomes piled up that year. The
bureau of the internal revenue does
not give us the names of the 11, but
only the states in which they pay
taxes. Here is a table of them:
New York .1
New Jersey .1
: Illinois .1
Pennsylvania .1
Wisconsin .1
Here’s a fine chance for a guess
j ing contest. Henry and Edsel Ford
| are ruled out, since Michigan is not
| in the list. But who’s the Wisconsin
man who in 1927 had an income oi
more than $5,000,000? Most news
paper readers would guess Audreu
Mellon as the Pennsylvanian, but
who in New Jersey had an income
in excess of between $13,000 and
$14 000 a day.
to spread, for it is as true today as
I it was on September 1 that America
has reserves of wealth and econ
omic power the like of which man
kind has never seen. These reserves
and this power are untouched, and
if men will only keep their heads on
their shoulders and their shirts on
their backs, the real business of
America will go forward without
serious hesitation.
- —■ >».
Q. Where was the first social set
; tlement in the world? R. E.
A. The first social settlement in
i the world was Toynbee Hall, wh'ch
i was founded in 1884 by Canon Sam
j uel A. Barnett, in Whitechaptl,
i .East London
r ■! ~ m ■-»
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