-—— -- ———- —--—‘—■ “• ' “ ~ _I Ttae DIM LANTERN By TEMPLE BAILEY —-— O PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY —WNU SERVICE CHAPTER VIII—Continued —13— “Nothing is too good for you, Jane I can't say it as I want to say it, but you’ll never know what you seemed to me on Sunday as you came through the mist.” Evans’ voice shook a little, but ' t recovered himself In a moment. “Here come the Townes.” He rose as Edith entered with young Bald win. After that Evans followed Saldy’s lead as a dispenser of hospitality. The two of them passed cups, passed thin bread and butter, passed little cakes, passed lemon and cream and sugar, flung conversational balls as light as feathers into the air, were, as Baldy would have expressed it, “the life of the party.” “Something must have gone to Casabianca's head," Frederick Towne remarked to Jane. "Have you ever seen him like this?” “Years ago. He was tremendous ly attractive.” "Do you And him attractive now?" with a touch of annoyance. “I find him—wonderful”—her tone was defiant—“and I’ve known him all my life.” “If you had known me all your life would you call me wonderful?” She looked at him from behind her battlements of silver. “How do I know? People have to prove them selves.” Dr. Hallam had driven Mrs. Fol lette over. He rarely did social stunts, but he liked Jane. And he had been interested enough in Ev ans to want to glimpse him in his new role. Strolling up to the tea-table, he was aware at once of a situation which might make for comedy, or indeed for tragedy. It was evident that Towne was much attracted to little Jane Barnes. If Jane recipro cated, what of young Follette? “I saw Mrs. Laramore yester day," he said, abruptly, "lovely as ever—” “Yes, of course.” Towne wished that Hallam wouldn’t talk about Ad elaide. He wished that all of the others would go away and leave him alone with Jane. “Mrs. Laramore,” said Jane un expectedly, “makes me think of the lady of Shallott. I don’t know why. But I do. I have really never seen such a beautiful woman. But she doesn’t seem real. I have a feeling that if anything hit her, she’d break like china.” They laughed at her, and Edith said, “Adelaide will never break. She’ll melt. She’s as soft as wax.” Then pigeonholing Mrs. Laramore for more vital matters. “Uncle Fred, I am going out to Baldy’s studio; he’s painting Jane.” Frederick was at once interested. “Her portrait?” “No. A sketch for a magazine competition." Baldy explained. “May I see it?” Baldy, yearning for solitude and Edith, gave reluctant consent “Come on, everybody." 1 So everybody, including Dr. Hal lam and Mrs. Follette. made their way to the garage. Edith and young Baldwin arrived first. “And this is where you work,” she said, softly. “Yes. Look here, will you sit here so that I can feast my eyes on you? I’ve dreamed of you in that chair in classic costume. Do you know that you were made for a goddess?’’ “I know that you are a romantic boy.” “How old are you?” she asked him. “Twenty-five.” “I don’t believe it. I’m twenty two, and I feel a thousand years elder than you.” “You will always be—ageless." She laughed. “How old is Jane?” “Twenty. Yet people take us for twins.” “She doesn’t look n and neither do you.” The others came In and Edith went back to her thoughts. He wasn’t too young. She was glad of that . . . The sketch of Jane was on an eas el There she stood, a slender figure in her lilac frock—bobbed black hair, lighted-up eyes—the lifted bas ket with its burden of gold and pur ple and green! Towne stood back and looked at it. Jane at his side said, “That’s some of the fruit you sent.” “Really?" Frederick had no eyes for anything but Jane, in her lilac frock. Jove, but the boy had caught the spirit of her! He turned to Baldy. “It is most unusual. And I want it.” “Sorry,” said Baldy, crisply. ”1 am sending it off tomorrow.” “How much is the prize?” “Two thousand dollars.” “I will write a check for that amount if you will let me have this.” “I am afraid I can’t, Mr. Towne.” “Why not?" “Well, I feel this way about it. It isn't worth two thousand dollars. But if I win the prize it may be worth that to the magazine—the ad vertising and all that.” “Inn’t that splitting hairs?” “Perhaps, but it’s the way I feel.” “But if you don’t win the prize you won’t have anything.” "No.” “And you'll be out two thousand dollars.” The lion in the Zoo was snarling. And above him, breathing an up per air, was this young eagle. “I’ll be glad to give the sketch to you if it comes back,” said Baldy, coolly, “but I rather think it will stick.” It was, in a way, a dreadful mo ment for Towne. There was young Baldwin sitting on the edge of the table, swinging a leg, debonair, de fiant. And Edith laughing in fter sleeve. Frederick knew that she was laughing. He was as red as a turkey cock. It was Jane who s^ved him from apoplexy. She was really inordi nately proud of Baldy, but she knew the dangers of his mood. And she had her duties as hostess. “Baldy wants to see himself on the news stands,” she said, sooth ingly; “don’t deprive him of that pleasure, Mr. Towne.” “Nothing of the kind, Jane,” ex claimed her brother. “Baldy, I won’t quarrel with you before people. We must reserve that pleasure until we are alone.” “I’m not quarrelling." Jane held up a protesting hand. “Oh, let’s run away from him. Mr. She saw him presently stand ing beside Baldy on the station platform. Towne. When he begins like that, there’s no end to it.” She carried Frederick back to the house, and Evans, looking after them, said vindictively to Haliam, "Old Midas got his that time.” Dr. Haliam chuckled. “You don’t hate him, do you? Evans, don’t let him have Jane. He isn’t worth it.” "Neither am I,” said Evans. “But 1 would know better how to make her happy." Back once more in the bright little living-room, Towne said to Jane, “May I have another cup of tea?’ “It’s cold.” “I don’t care. 1 like to see you pour it with your lovely hands.” She spread her hands out on the shining mahogany of the tea-table “Are they lovely? Nobody ever told __ _ »» me. His hand went over hers. “The loveliest in the world.” She sat there in a moment's breathless silence. Then she drew her hands away. Touched a little bell. “I’ll have Sophy bring us some hot water.” Sophy came and went. Jane poured hot tea with flushed cheeks. He took the cup when she handed it to him. “Dear child, you’re not offended?" “I’m not a child, Mr. Towne.” Her lashes were lowered, her cheeks flushed. He put his cup down and leaned towards her. “You are more than a child to me—a beloved woman. Jane, you needn’t be afraid of me ... 1 want you for my wife!” Her astonished eyes met his. “But we haven’t known each other a week.” ”1 couldn’t love you more if 1 had known you a thousand years.” "Mr. Towne—please.” He was very close to her. “Kiss me, Jane.” She held her slender figure away from him. “You must not.” “I must.” “No, really . . . Please,” she was breathing quickly. “Please.” She was on her feet, the tea-table between them. He saw his mistake. “Forgive „ _ II me. Her candid eyes met his. "Mr. Towne, would you have acted like this . . . with Edith’s friends?” Edith's friends! The child’s inno cence! Adelaide’s kisses went for a song. Eloise frankly offered hers. Edith was saved by only some in ner grace. “Jane, they are not worth your little finger. I put you above all. On a pedestal. Honestly. And 1 want you to marry me.” "But I don't love you.” “I'll make you. I have everything to give you.” Had he? What of Robin Hood and Galahad? What of youth and youth’s audacity, high resolves, flaming dreams? She felt something of this sub consciously. But she would not have been a feminine creature had she not felt the flattery of his pursuit. in the midst of all her magnificence. They stared too, at Towne, and at Briggs, who rushed in at the last moment with more books from Brentano. Edith and Baldy were on the platform. Edith had come down with Towne. So Frederick, alone with Jane, said, “I want you to think of the things we talked about yes terday—" "Please, not now. Oh, I’m afraid—" "Of me? You mustn’t be.” “Not of you—of everything— Life.” “Jane, I’ll make are a fairy tale. We'll travel everywhere. Sail strange seas. Wouldn’t you love It —all those countries you have never seen—and just the two of us? And all the places you have read about? And when we come home I’ll build you a house—wherever you say— with a great garden.’’ He was eloquent, and the things he promised were woven Into the woof of all her girlish imaginings. “I ought not to listen.’’ she said, tremulously. But he knew that she had listened. He was wise enough to leave It— there. He rose as he heard the others coming back. “Will you ride with me tomorrow afternoon? Don’t be afraid of me. I’ll promise to be good.” "Sorry. I’m to have tea In town with Evans.” “Can’t you break the engage ment?” “I don’t break engagements.” The cock of her head was like Baldy’s. CHAPTER IX “Janey—!” “Yes, Baldy.' Jane sat up In bed, dreams still in her eyes. She had been late in getting to sleep. There had been so much to think of—Fred erick Towne’s proposal—the star tling change in Evans— “It’s a telegram. Open the door, dear.” She caught up her dressing-gown and wrapped it around her. "A tele gram?” She was with him now In the hall. “Baldy, is it Judy?” "Yes. She’s ill. Asks if you can come on and look after the kiddies.” “Of course.” She swayed a little. “Hold on to me a minute. Baldy. It takes my breath away.” “You mustn’t be scared, old girl.” “I’ll be all right in ... a min ute. ..." His arms were tight about her. “It seems as if I should go, too, Janey.” He took her hand and held it "Is there anything else I can do for you? Everything I have is—yours, you know—if you want it" He had to leave her then, with a final close clasp of the hand. She saw him presently standing beside Baidy on the station platform—the center of the eyes of everybody— the great Frederick Townel As the city slipped away and she leaned her head against the cush ions and looked out at the flying fields—it seemed a stupendous thing that a man like Towne should have laid his fortune at her feet Yet she had no sense of exhilaration. She liked the things he had to offer —yearned for them—but she did not want him at her side. In her sorrow her heart turned to the boy who had stumbled over the words, “If my blundering pray ers will help you—" She found herself sobbing—the first tears she had shed since the arrival of the telegram. When she reached Chicago, her brother-in-law. Bob Heming, met her. "Judy’s holding her own," he said, as he kissed her. "It was no end good of you to come, Janey." "Have you a nurse?” *Two. Day nurse and night nurse. And a maid. Judy is nearly frantic about the expense. It isn’t good for her, either, to worry. That’s half the trouble I tried to make her get help, but she wouldn’t But I blame myself that I didn’t insist.” “Don’t blame yourself, Bob. Judy wouldn’t She told me she could get along. And when Judy decider a thing, no one can change her.” "Well, times have been hard. And business bad. And Judy knew it She’s such a good sport" They were in a taxi, so when tears came into Heming’s eyes, he made no effort to conceal them. "I’m just about all in. You can’t understand how much it means to me to have you here.” “But you can’t I’ll get things ready and ride in with you in the morning. I'll pack my thunk if you’ll bring it down from the attic. I can sleep on the train tomorrow.” The next morning Baldy went to bring his car around, and Evans stood with his hand on the back of Jane’s chair, looking down at her. “You'll write to me, Jane?” “Oh, of course.” He shifted his hand from the chair back to her shoulder. “Dear- little girl, if my blundering prayers will help you any—you’ll have them.” She turned in her chair and looked up at him. She could not speak. Their eyes met, and once more Jane had that breathless sense of flutter ing wings within her that lifted to the sun. Then Baldy was back, and the bags were ready, and there was just that last hand-clasp. "God bless you, Jane . .” Frederick Towne was at the train. He had been dismayed at the news of Jane’s departure. “Do you mean that you are going to stay indefinite ly?” he had asked over the wire. “1 shall stay as long as Judy needs me.” Frederick had flowers for her. books and a big box of sweets. Peo pie in the Pullman stared at Jane And now that l am here, saia Jane, with a gallantry born of his need of her. “things are going to be better." The apartment was simply fur nished and bore the stamp of Judy’s good taste. A friend had taken the children out to ride, so the rooms were very quiet as Jane went through them, good taste. Judy in bed was white and thin, and Jane wanted to weep over her. but she didn't “You blessed old girl,” she said, "you’re going to get well right away.” “The doctor thinks 1 may have to have an operation. That’s why I felt 1 must wire you.” Judy was anxious. “1 couldn't leave the ba bies with strangers. And it was so important that Bob should be at his work." "Of course,” said Jane: "do you think anything would have made me stay away?” Judy gave a quick sigh of relief How heavenly to have Janeyl And what a dear she was with her air of conquering the world. Jane had always been like that—with that con quering air. It cheered one Just tc look at her. (TO lit: CONTINUED) Hawks Destroy Field Mice; Aid to Farmers Nature is wise. She provided that where the mortality in a species is high, the species is prolific. Such a prolific species is the field mouse. In a single year one female mouse may have 17 litters of young, averag ing 5 to the litter. Thus in one year a female mouse may multiply her self 85 times. More than that, as serts a writer in the Missouri Farm er, each of her female offspring be gins to reproduce at about one month of age, and it is estimated that if every descendant of a single female mouse lived there could result the unbelievable total of more than a without these, farming would be Im possible. In winter field mice eat seed, seed that is needed for game birds and other wildlife. When the seed is gone they eat the bark of trees, and it is not uncommon for them to ruin many young fruit trees. When in the field, hawks by day and owls by night prey upon them wholesale. One of these hawks, commonly known to farmers as the little sparrow hawk, may be seen atop a nearby tree watching for mice when corn is be ing shucked out of the shock, and he is very busy particularly if there is snow on the ground and he is hungry and the mice are easy to see. Nearly all hawks may kill an occasional bird and some of them catch chickens. A few, a very few of them, are almost wholly bad, just as there are bad actors among men. But the good that hawks do more than counterbalances their bad traits and farmers should think twice before shooting them down as outlaws. No Mahogany Forests No mahogany forests exist since mahogany trees grow scattered throughout the jungle with an aver age, usually, of one or two trees to the acre in virgin forests. million mice in a year s time. It is also claimed that each mouse uses 23 pounds of green feed in one year to support it, and that if there was an average of 10 field mice per acre on the farms of the United States the loss on our 65,000,000 acres of hay fields would amount to more than 3,000,000 tons per year. If al lowed to propagate unmolested, sci entists estimate that rodents would run man off the face of the earth in seven years. What keeps mice down? Many enemies are at work, enemies like cats, weasels, disease germs, etc., but one of the most im portant of Its enemfes is the hawk. Hawks have been called nature’s policemen, and it believed that HCW*> SEW Ruth Wyeth Spears cJ^ —-"fl MAKE A SL*5 COVER FOR THE HEAD OF THE BCD JPMATCH SPREAD RODS WITH A MOUTH COTTON BAST CD TO MUSUNx DETSY was all agog to have a bed with no foot piece and a padded head to match her spread. Ingenuity would have to substitute for money, and she was seriously considering this and that when the plumber was called to fix a leaky pipe. The plumber took a fine saw and sawed a pipe in two just as if it were wood. Right then something clicked for Betsy. That old iron bed in the attic! It could be cut down. It was cut down, as shown in the sketch. The top of this bed is padded with cotton basted to muslin. Betsy used an old comforter for padding. NOTE: Book 1—SEWING, for the Home Decorator, and No. 2, Gifts, Novelties and Embroider ies, are now 15 cents each, or both books for 25 cents. 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Tommy Also Discovered Appeasement Is Difficult Tommy Jones came home from school with touseled hair, rumpled clothes and a black eye. “What have you been up to?” his mother demanded. “I’ve been fighting Johnny Briggs,” Tommy confessed. “Well, take him this cake and make friends.” Tommy did so, but in the after noon he came home with another black eye. “Good gracious!” his mother ex claimed. “What on earth has hap pened now?” “He did it again,” Tommy said, sadly. “And he wants more cake | tomorrow—or else!” Helpless “Ethel, I’m ashamed of you. I saw that Frenchman in the hall kissing you repeatedly. Why didn't you tell him to stop?” “I can’t speak French.” Her Virtue “Another new outfit?” said Mr. Hobson. “Where on earth do you imagine I’ll get the money from?” “Whatever my faults may be, darling, I’m not inquisitive,” re plied his wife sweetly. There are still people who think the earth is flat. They’ve never tried to make a lawn in a new garden. 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