-—— -- ———- —--—‘—■ “• ' “ ~ _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. Readers
who have not secured their copies
of these two books should send in
their orders at once, as no more
copies will be available, when the
present stock is sold. Your choice
of the QUILT LEAFLET showing
36 authentic patchwork stitches;
or the RAGRUG LEAFLET, will
be included with orders for both
books for the present, but the offer
may be withdrawn at any time.
Leaflets are 6 cents each when or
dered without the books.
Everyone should have copies of
these two books containing 96 How
to Sew articles by Mrs. Spears,
that have not appeared in the pa
per. Send your order at once to
Mrs. Spears, 210 S. Desplaines St.,
Chicago, 111.
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.
Surprise!
“What’s in this bottle?” asked
the customs officer.
“It’s only ammonia,” stam
mered the passenger.
“Oh—is it!” sneered the cus
toms officer, removing the cork
and taking a long sniff.
It was!
Fairy Tale
The bus had to pull up very sud
denly; a taxi behind could not
stop and gently bumped into it.
The taxi-driver jumped out and,
running to the front of the bus,
proceeded to tell the driver what
he thought of him.
The bus-driver remained silent
until the taxi-man had finished;
then he leaned out and said, very
gently, “I thought you’d b«
cross!”
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