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About The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917 | View Entire Issue (July 16, 1914)
The Hollow ♦ ♦ * ts> * of Her Hand ^Georgfe Barr M°Cutcheon eopy/?/cvr./9/2 oy c£Okc?1iaaa AKCU7&/£<vr: cory/vc/fr, r?/2 gy £>odd,/7£AD company SfMCPSlS rww> W randail m found murdered In d iwd fco»» seer Xt« York Mrs Wtan dad m snimmunl truss (be rll) and Wr« ldr» the laud. « yuua* aoflUQ who ac r '■■—ali I » randail lu the tan and iu» Oa—assniy iliu.teeml U » US pec led Mrs Vk road, i starts MHi tor New York la ea sots :ut. >* a tuindln* snow nura tea IS* wa> an* meets a )«.u woman in Ik* rrat el. proven to te- tike a on an WWs kitted ts feudal: Keclin* that the c-rt bad 4 i—i bet a service ui : iodine her «f the tea: who ttwu*h she kin! lira « •ep*> had raured her feat sorrow Mrs W randail determines to shield her sni takes • to h r own Home Mrs to randail lean Ik* Start of Hetty • "as Isuar hi. evept that port lot, that re tsraa to Wcaadsli Ti e and the story’ of Ire traced, he lerhrda the Ctrl ever to t. ti Me .dfers Hetty n home fnendahlp and nr or It. from petit on account of tie ti arid) «am Wrandai! and Hetty re I.re la N-a York after aa ilarnrt of a j*wr ta> Korop* Led'* Wrandai!. brocher of t : aJbs u .lines greatly tatereated in Me t] Mara seen in led* s Infatuation penhlitI (or revewce on tics Wrandalls sad mparaiwa for the wfwada she suf ' red at Ui hands of t aUia Wrandai: by *y.*-* t.is murdt r.wc into the family Urte ca r aitokt with Ida fnrnd Bran doe liuurb aa artist starts Bara at her c< sorry place l-estu nmfiwsi ■ to Sara tbs' la nuni in will: Hetty Sara ar.stpes Witt: Booth to paint a picture of H* *• Bred*, teas a fcaun'.inc f.eitt.* that be baa een Hefty te!i re I-ookin* tt.- 0*1. a port! dm f pi*tune* by aa un lbe*k ijctuli artist he finds one of M-1'1 tie speaks te her about it Hetty a - ..m it ana* be a pc* lure of Hetty l.ii.i* aa Ractidk aetreaa wbu resemrile* be* if*, aek Mu* b to his otiacrln ]**:>. is refused try Hetty Booth and 14*1 y rnutiw th.er i** for ea h other, bit lie taller declare* that at.e ran never ■carry as there s ar. Insurmountable bar rier in the war Hetty admits to Bara that aba io.es Bootr. Bara declares that Hetty aim mar*. I-rolls who must be made Ut pay tie brother's debt to the *irl Hetty acaca attempts te tell the real story d i!s i*a*»**r and Bara threat ens to atraacte tier if she say * a word CHAPTER XII.—Continued "Not new Xot since I have found you out. Tbe thing I have feared all aiowg has none to pass 1 in relieved, now that you show me just where I truly stand But. I ashed what of yooT" The world is more likely to applaud than to curse me. Hetty It liken a new iwiio My change of heart will appear quite natural. ' Are you wire that the world will applsad roer real design? You hale the WraodaU* Will they he charitable toward yoe when the truth is given owt* Will Lae lie applaud you? Listen, please I am trying to save you from yowraelf. Sara. You will fall in every thing yaw have hop'd for. You will hr aware accursed than 1. The world will pity toe. it may even forgive me. B will llstes to my story, which is more than you wtll do. and it will be lieve me Ah. I am not afraid now At Erst 1 w so in terror. I bad ao hope to escape AH that is past. Today I am ready to take my chances with the Etc. gewerwua world Men will try me. end men are not made of stone and steel They pen.sk but they do not avenge srhen they sit in jury boxes They are am women! Good God. Sara la there a mat living today who could hove planned this thing you have cher ished all three months? Xot one! And nil Skew will curse you for it. even though they send me to prison or to the chair But they will not con demn oae They will hear my story xnd they wilt set me free. And 'hen. what of yowr Bara stead perfectly rigid, regarding this earnest reaooner with growing wander My dear.” she said “you would bet ter hr thinking of yourself. n0t of me "Why. when I tell my story, the world wtll hate you. Bara Wrandall. Yoe have helped me. you bare been goad to me. wo matter wbat sinister mo ive you may have had in doing so It is my turn to help you" To help me'" cried Bara, as ton VL»d la spite at hetwdf. "Yea. Te save you from execra tion end eveo worse " Thevw Is ao moral wrong in but nag« with Leslie Wrandall." said Yarn returning to her own project. "he moral wrong’" cried Hetty, ag&isi "No. I suppose not." she went ww. e moment later "It is something murk deeper, muck blacker than moral wrung 1 here is ao word for it And M I marry him. what then? Wherein lh» yowr triumph? You can't mean that -Gad ta heaven! You would not ga to them with the truth when It was two lace for him to—to coot me off!" T am wo awch too! as that. Tbe mot would be forever safe in that •sea* My Ttumph as you call it, we will net dMwwas * "Hoe ywe must hate me. to be will leg to do seek am infamous thing u> "1 do not hair you. Hetty ” To kvwvka s name, what do you call BY* Jwiiirttloa Listen to me cow I am saying this tor yoar good sense *e am a* aad appreciate Would tl be right m aw to allow you to marry any other am. fcaoemg all that 1 know? There is bat oar man you can in just tea marry the oar who can repair the wreck that his owe biood created. Not hraadoa IMmth. nor any man sare Les ha Wraudail He is the man who must P*f" "I do aad intend U> marry," ggid Hetty “Hat Leslie will marry some one. aad I intend that it shall be you. He shall marry 'be ex-chorus girt, the artist's model, the—the prostitute: Wait! I ain't fly at me like that! Han't nseame that look of virtuous horror! Let aw say what I hare to say. This mach of yoar story shall they know, aad no sort They will be prwwd at yea!" Hetty * eyes were biasing. “Ton use that sawe- yoo call me that—and yet you have kissed aw. caroused me— lowed aw!" aba cried hoarse with pas ’ll# win ask you tonight for the second Uma. Yon will accept him That is alL" "Ton mast taka hack what you haws jast said to me—of mo—Sara W reads!!. Tow most unsay it! You mast beg my pardon for that!" "I draw as has between mistress "Hat 1—" "Knough!” ' You wrong me vilely! You must let me—” "I have an excellent memory, and It serves me well." Hetty suddenly threw herself upon the couch and buried her face in her arms Great sobs shook her slender frame. Sara stood over her and watched for a long time with pitiless eyes. Then a queer, uneasy, wondering light be gan to develop In those dark, ominous eyes. She leaned forward the better < to listen to the choked, inarticulate j words that were pouring from the ' girl s lips. At last, moved by some power she could not have accounted | for. she knelt beside the quivering body, and laid her hand, almost tim orously. upon the girl's shoulder. "Hetty—Hetty. If I have wronged you in—in thinking that of you—I— I— she began brokenly. Then she lift ed her eyes, and the harsh light tried | to steal back into them. "No. no! ! What am I saying? What a fool I am to give way—" "You have wronged me—terribly, terribly!" came in smothered tones from the cushions. "I did not dream you thought that of me." "What was I to think?" Hetty lifted her head and cried out: “You would not let me speak! You refused to hear my story. You have been thinking this of me all along, holding it against me, damning me with it. and I have been closer to you than— My God. what manner of woman are you?" sara seized ner nanas ana neia mem tn a fierce, tense grip. Her eyes were glowing with a strange fire. 'Tell me—tell me now, on your soul, Hetty were you—were you—" "No! No! On my soul, no!” "Look Into my eyes!" The girl s eyes did not falter. She met the dark, penetrating gaze of the other and, though dimmed by tears, her blue eyes were steadfast and reso lute. Sara seemed to be searching the very soul of her. the soul that laid itself bare, denuded of every vestige of guile. "I—I think I believe Jrou.” came slowly from the lips of the searcher. You are looking the truth I can see it. Hetty, I—I don't understand myself. Is is so so overwhelming, 60 tre mendous. It Is so Incredible Am I really believing you? Is it possible ■that I have been wrong In—" Let me tell you everything.” cried ♦he girl, suddenly throwing her arms about her. Not now! Walt! Give me time to think. Go away now. I want to be alone.” She arose and pushed the girl toward the door. Her eyes were fixed on her in a wondering, puzzled sort of way. and she was shaking her head as If trying to discredit the new emo tion that had come to displace the one created ages agb. Slowly Hetty Castleton retreated toward the door. With her hand on the knob, she paused. After what has happened, Sara, you must not expect me to stay with you any longer I cannot. You may give me up to the law, but—" Some one was lapping gently at the door. ‘Shall I see who It is?” asked the girl, after a long period of silence. •Yes." It was Murray. "Mr. Leslie has re turned, Miss Castleton, and asks if fce may see you at once. He says It is very important. "Tell him I will be down In a few minutes. Murray." After the door closed, she waited —nti! the footman's steps died away on the stairs. "I shall say no to him, Sara, and I shall say to him that you will tell him "Tsll Me—Tell Me. Now—on Your Soul, Hetty—" I why I cannot be his wife. Do you : understand? Are you listening to me?” Sara turned away without a word or look of response. Hetty quietly opened the door and went out. CHAPTER XIII. The Second Encounter. Booth trudged rapidly homeward I after leaving Hetty at the lodge. He i was throbbing all over with the love i of her. The thrill of conquest was in bis blood. She had raised a mysteri ous barrier; all the more zest to the Inevitable victory that would be his. He would delight in overcoming ob stacles—the bigger the better—for his heart was valiant and the prize no smaller than those which the ancient knights went ont to battle for in the lists of love. !t was enough for the present to know that she loved him. What if she were Hetty Glynn? What if she had been an artist's model? The took he had had into the soul of her through those pan blue eyes was all-convincing. She was wor thy of the noblest love. After luncheon—served with some exasperation by Patrick an hour and a half later than usual—he smoked his pipe on the porch and stared reminis cently at the shifting clouds above the tree tops. He did not see the Wrandall motor at his garden gate until a lusty voice brought him down from the clouds into the range of earthly sounds. Then he dashed out to the gate, bareheaded and coatless, forgetting that he had been sitting in the obscurity of trailing vines and purple blossoms the while he thought of her. Leslie was sitting on the wide seat between his mother and sister. "Glad to see you back, old man.” said Booth, reaching in to shake hands with htm. "Day early, aren't you? Good afternoon, Mrs. W randall Won't you come in?" He looked at Vivian as he gave the Invitation. “No. thanks,” she replied. "Won't you come to dinner this evening?” He hesitated. "I'm not quite sure whether I can, Vivian. I've got a half way sort of—” On, do. old chap, cut in Leslie, more as a command than an entreaty. “Sorry I can't be there myself, but you'll fare quite as well without me. I'm dining at Sara's. Wants my pri vate ear about one thing and another— see what 1 mean?" “We shall expect you, Brandon." said Mrs. Wrandall, fixing him with her lorgnette. “I’ll come, thank you," said he. He felt disgustingly transparent un der that inquisitive glass. Wrandall stepped out of the car. “I’ll stop oS for a chat with Brandy, mother." “Shall I send the car back, dear?” “Never mind. I’ll walk down.” The two men turned in at the gate as the car sped away. "Well," said Booth, “It's good to see you. Pat!” He called through a base ment window. "Come up and take the gentleman's order.” “No drink for me. Brandy. I've been in the temperance state of Maine for two weeks. One week more of it and I'd have been completely pickled. I shall always remember Maine.” Booth sat down on the porch rail, hooked hie toes in the supports and proceeded to fill his pipe. Then he struck a match and applied it, Leslie watching him with moody eyes. "How do you like the portrait, old man?" he inquired between punctu ating puffs. “It's bully. Sargent never did any thing finer. Ripping.” ”1 owe it all-to you, Les.” "To me?” “You induced her to sit to me.” "So I did,” said Leslie sourly. “I was Mr. Fix-it sure enough.” He al lowed a short interval to elapse be fore taking the plunge. “I suppose, old chap, if I should happen to need your valuable services as best man in the near future, you'd not disap point me?” Booth eyed him quizzically. “I trust you're not throwing yourself away, Les," he said drily. “I mean to say. on some one—well, some one not quite up to the mark.” Leslie regarded him with some se verity. “Of course not, old chap. What the devil put that into your head ?” “I thought that possibly you'd been making a chump of yourself up in the Maine woods.” “Piffle! Don’t be an ass. What’s the sense pretending you don’t know who she is?" "1 suppose lt'e Hetty Castieton." said Booth, puffing away at his pipe. “Who else?” “Think she’ll have you, old man?” asked Booth, after a moment. “I don’t know.” replied the other, a bit dashed. “You might wish me luck, though." Booth knocked the burnt tobacco from the bowl of his pipe. A serious line appeared between his eyes. He was a fair-minded fellow, without guile, without a single treacherous instinct “I can’t wish you luck. Les,” he said slowly. “You see I’m—I’m In love with her myself." “The devil!” Leslie sat bolt up right and glared at him “i might have known! And—and Is she in love with you?” ’’My dear fellow, you reveal con siderable lack of tact In asking that question." “What I want to know Is this,” ex claimed Wrandall, very pale but very hot: "is she going to marry you?” Booth smiled. “IU be perfectly frank with you. She says she won’t" Leslie gulped. "So you’ve asked her?” “Obviously.” "And she said she wouldn't? She refused you? Turned you down?” His little mustache ehot up at the ends and a Joyous, triumphant laugh broke from his lips. “Oh, this is rich! Ha, ha! Turned you down, eh? Poor old Brandy! You’re my best friend, and dammit I’m sorry. I mean to say,” he went on In some embarrassment, “I’m sorry for yon. Of course, you can hardly expect me to—er—” “Certainly not” accepted Booth amiably. “I quite understand.” "Then, since she’s refused you, you might wish me better luck.” “That would mean giving up hope.” “Hope?” exclaimed Leslie quickly. “You don’t mean to say you’ll annoy her with your—” "No, I shall not annoy her,” replied his friend, shaking his bead. “Well, I should hope not” said Leslie with a scowl. "Turned you down, eh? 'Pon my soul!” He ap peared to be relishing the idea of it “Sorry, old ch&p, but I suppose you understand just what that means.” Booth’s lips hardened for an In stant then relaxed Into a queer, al most pitying smile, I “And you want me to be your best man?" he said reflectively. Leslie arose. His chest seemed to swell a little; assuredly he was breath ing much easier. He assumed an air of compassion. “I shan’t insist, old fellow, if you feel you’d rather not—er— See what I mean?” It then occurred to him to utter a word or two of kindly advice. “I shouldn't go on moping if 1 were you. Brandy. ’Pon my soul, I shouldn’t. Take it like a man. I know it hurts, bat— Pooh! What’s the use aggra vating the pain by butting against a stone wall?” His companion looked out over the tree tops, his hands in his trousers pockets, and it must be confessed that his manner was not that of one who is oppressed by despair. "I think I'm taking it like a man. Leslie Sat Bolt Upright and Glared at Him. Les,” he said. "I only hope you'll take it as nicely If she says nay to you.” An uneasy look leaped into Leslie's face. He seemed noticeably lese cor pulent about the chest. He wondered if Booth knew anything about his initial venture. A question rose to his lips, but be thought quickly and held It back. Instead, he glanced at his watch. "I must be oft. See you tomorrow I hope.” “So long,” said Booth, stopping at the top of the steps while his visitor skipped down to the gate with a nimbleness that suggested the forma tion of a sudden resolve. Leslie did not waste time In part ing inanities he strode off briskly in the direction of home, but not without a furtive glance out of the tail of his eye as he disappeared beyond the hedgerow at the end of Booth's gar den. That gentleman was standing where he had left him, and was filling his pipe once more. The day was warm, and Leslie was in a dripping perspiration when he reached home.- He did not enter the house but made his way direct to the garage. "Get out the car at once. Brown," was his order. Three minutes later he was being driven over the lower road toward Southlook, taking good care to avoid Booth's place by the matter of a mile or more. He was in a fever of hope and eagerness. It was very plain to him why she had refused Booth. The iron was hot. He didn't intend to lose any time in striking. And now we know why he came again to Sara's in the middle of a blazing afternoon, instead of waiting until the more seductive shades of night had fallen, when the moon sat serene in the seat of the Mighty. He didn’t have to wait long for Het ty. Up to the Instant of her appear ance in the door, he had reveled in the thought that the way was now paved with roses. But with her en trance, he felt his confidence and courage slipping. Perhaps that may explain the abruptness with which he proceeded to go about the business ' in hand. "I couldn't wait till tonight.” he ex l plained as she came slowly across the room toward him. She was half way to him before he awoke to the fact that he wae standing perfectly still. Then he started forward, some how Impelled to meet her at least half-way. “You’ll forgive me, Hetty, if I have disturbed you.” “I was not lying down, Mr. Wran dall,” she said quietly. There was nothing ominous in the words, but he experienced a sudden sensation of cold. “Won’t you sit down? Or would you rather go out to the terrace?” “It’8 much more comfortable here. If you don’t mind. I—I suppose you know what it is I want to say to you. You—" “Yes," she Interrupted wearily; “and knowing as much, Mr. Wrandall, it would not be fair of me to let you go on.” “Not fair?” he said, in honest amaze ment. “But, my dear, I—’’ "Please, Mr. Wrandall,” she ex claimed, with a pleading little smile that would have touched the heart of anyone but Leslie. "Please don’t go on. It Is quite as impossible now as it was before. I have not changed.” He could only say, mechanically: "You haven’t?” “No. I am sorry if you have thought that I might come to—” “Think, for heaves’e sake, think what you are doing!” he cried, feeling for the edge of the table with a sup port-seeking hand. “I—I had Sara’s word that you were not—” “Unfortunately Sara cannot speak tor me in a matter of this kind. Thank you for the honor you would—” “Honor be hanged!” he blurted out. losing his temper. “I love you! It's a purely selfish thing with me, and I'm blowed If I consider it an honor to be refused by any woman. I—” "Mr. Wrandall!" she cried, fixing him with her flashing, indignant eyes. ' You are forgetting yourself." She was standing very straight and slim and imperious before him. He quailed. "I—I beg your pardon. I—I—" ■'There is nothing more to be said," she went on icily. “Goodby." "Would you mind telling me wheth er there is anyone else?" he asked, as he turned toward the door. ‘ Do you really feel that you have the right to ask that question. Mr. Wrandall?" He wet his Ups with his tongue, i "Then, there is some one!” he cried. rapping the table with his knuckles. : He didn't realize till afterward how j vigorously he rapped. "Some con founded English nobody, I suppose.” She smiled, not unkindly. "There is no English nobody, if that answers your question." "Then, will you be kind enough to offer a reason for not giving me a fair chance in a clear field? I think it’s due—” “Cant you see how you are dis tressing me? Muet I again go through that horrid scene in the garden? t Cant you take a plain no for an aa I swer?” ; "Good Lord!” he gasped, and in those two words he revealed the com plete overturning of a lifelong esti mate of himself. It seemed to take more than his breath away. uooaDv.” she said with finality. He stared at the door through which she disappeared, his hopes, his con ceit, his self-regard trailing after her with shameless disloyalty to the standards he had set for them, and then, with a rather ghastly smile of self-commiseration on his lipe, he slipped out of the house, jumped into the motor car. and gave a brief but explicit command to the chauffeur, who lost no time in assisting his mas ter to turn tail in ignominious flight Hetty was gloomily but resolutely employed in laying out certain of her personal belongings, preparatory to packing them for departure, when Sara entered her room. They regarded each other steadily, questionlngly for a short space of time. “Leslie has just called up to ask what the devil’ 1 meant by letting him make a fool of himself,” said Sara, with a peculiar little twisted smile on her lips. Hetty offered no comment, but after a moment gravely and rather wistfully called attention to her present occu pation by a significant flaunt of her hand and a saddened smile. "I eee.” said Sara, without emotion. “If you choose to go, Hetty, I shall not oppose you.” “My position here is a false one, Sara. I prefer to go.” "This morning I should have held a sword over your head.” “It is very difficult for me to realize all that has happened.” "You are free to depart. You are free in every sense of the word. Your future rests with yourself, my dear.” "It hurts me more than I can tell to feel that you have been hating me all these months.” “It hurts me—now.” Hetty walked to the window and looked out. “What are your plans?” Sara in quired, after an interval. “I shall seek employment—and wait for you to act.” ”1? You mean?” “I shall not run away, Sara. Nor do I intend to reveal myself to the au thorities. I am not morally guilty of crime. A year ago I feared the con sequences of my deed, but I have learned much since then. I was a stranger in a new world. In England we have been led to believe that you lynch women here as readily as you lynch men. I now know better than that. Prom you alone I learned my greatest lesson. You revealed to me the true meaning of human kindness. You shielded me who should not Even now I believe that your first impulse was a tender one. I shall not forget it, Sara. You will live to regret the baser thought that came later on. I have loved you—yes, al most as a good dog loves hie master. It is not for me to tell the story of that night and all these months to the world. I would not be betraying myself, but you. You would be called upon to explain, not I. And you would be the one to suffer. When you met me on the road that night I was on my way back to the inn to give my self Into custody. You have made it impossible for me to do so now. My lips are sealed. It rests with you. Sara." Sara joined her in the broad win dow. There was a strangely exalted look in her face. A gilded birdcage hung suspended in the casement Yv ith out a word, she threw open the win dow screen. The gay little canary In the gilded cage cocked his head and watched her with alert eyes. Then she reached up and gently removed the cage from its fastenings. Putting it down upon the window sill, she opened the tiny door. The bird hopped about his prison in a state of great excitement Hetty looked on, fascinated. At last a yellow streak shot out through the open door and an instant later resolved itself into the bobbing, fluttering dicky-bird that had lived in a cage all its life without an hour of freedom. For a few seconds it circled over the tree tops and 'hen alighted on one of the branches. One might well have imagined that he could hear its tiny heart beating with terror. Its wings were half-raised and fluttering, its head jerking from side to side in wild perturbation. Taking courage. Master Dicky hopped timo rously to a nearby twig, and then ven tured a flight to a tree top nearer the window casement. Perched in it® top most branches he cheeped shrilly, as if there was fear in his little breast. In silence the two women in the window watched the agitated move ments of the bird. The same thought was in the mind of each, the same question, the same intense wish. A brown thrush sped through the air, close by the timid canary. Like a flash it dropped to the twtg^ lower down, its wings palpitating in violent alarm. “Dicky!" called Sara Wrandall, and then cheeped between her teeth. A moment later Dicky was fluttering about the eaves; his circles grew smaller, his winging less rhythmical, till at last with a nervous little flutter he parched on the top of the window shutter, so near that they might have reached to him with their hands. He sat there with his head cocked to one side. "Dicky!” called Sara again. This time she held out her finger. For some time he regarded it with indifference, not to say disfavor. Then he took one more flight, but much shorter than the first, bringing up again at the shutter top. A second later he hopped down and his little talons gripped Sara’s finger with an earnestness that left no room for doubt. She lowered her hand until it was even with the open door of the gilded cage. He shot inside with a, whir that suggested a scramble. With hie wings folded, he sat on his little trapeze and cheeped. She closed and fastened the door, and then turned to Hetty. “My symbol,” she said softly. There were tears in Hetty's eyes. (TO BE CONTINUED ) PUBLIC DINNER A NUISANCE? New York Newspaper Says It Is, Both on Account of Poor Food and Poor Speakers. It has long been the agreeable habit of friendly organizations, from the Sons of St. Patrick to the New Eng land society, the Ohio, the Southern and others, to give occasional dinners at which they may refresh their spir its with the familiar dialect which is grateful in the ears long unused to it, and by reminding each other of what a good place the old home was, and is. remarkB the New York Evening Sun. But the old custom has long since become a bore beyond descrip tion because of the inordinate atten tion required of the diners to a long array of speakers, none of whom has anything in particular to say, and at the same time because of the very indifferent quality of the dinner pro vided. It is no doubt true that the great majority of persons who go to these dinners do not know or care what they eat, and therefore gobble the usually very indifferent food set before them and wait, helplessly, for "the speakers." Their own indiffer ence is much to blame for the general stodginess. It is encouraging, of course, to observe that the disgust with such silliness as this has finally resulted in an explosion which would do away entirely with the public din ner. The private dinner, of course, chosen carefully and served to a small and congenial company, is one of the most honorable and sacred so cial rites in the civilized world; men and women will always stand up to defend and maintain it. But the groat machine-made dinner ia a tool | ish anomaly to tegin with; nobody I but the hotelkeepers, who charge | enough to pay for a much more tempt ing dinner than they serve, feels any ! tenderness for it. — Pie, the National Dish. Three years ago a pie-eating eoo 'test was held for the championship of New Jersey, relates the London Chronicle. In the United States pie is a national dish, and the variety with which the competitors had to struggle consisted of a layer of pmtry a quarter of an inch thick, spread with canned fruit, the average weight being half a pound. Accord ing to the report of a local Journal, "amid enthusiasm, thirty-five young men, trained to the minute, entered the contest for the championship. The state record of twenty-six pies in half an ^ hour fell during the battle. Walter Tappin of Tllsomfleld, N. J., was the winner. He managed to put himself on the outside of twenty seven pies in the allotted time. For this he received the “championship belt.” It should have been an elastic one. Georgia Invasion. "It’s been the dream of the old man's life to see Wash'ton,” said the BillvlUe matron, “an' now he’s a-goin’ thar, an’ I’m a-goin’ with him. ‘I won’t be unknown thar,’ he says, ‘fer I’ve been a member of six Georgia legislatures, an’ any one of ’em could beat congress a-raisin’ of the place whar Satan lives at an' a-doin’ of nothin!' Bnt what we want to see most is the place whar they make the money, an' find out how come an’ why we don’t git our share of tt.”—At lanta ConatltnUoa, Only a chance to rest your hands and back is worth five cents. BUT there’s no chance about RUB-NO-MORE WASHING POWDER. It wouldn’t increase in sales every week un less it made house work much easier. RUB-NO-MORE WASHING POWDER is a sudless dirt re mover for clothes. It cleans your dishes, sinks, toilets and cleans and sweetens your milk mocks. It kills germs. It does not need hot water. RUB-NO-MORE RUB-NO-MORE Washing Powder Carbo Naptha Soap Five Cents—All Grocers The Rub-No-More Co., Ft Wayne, Ind. ■_ It Was Not to Him. It was in a city restaurant that a ! little short woman and her tall hus ! band entered and sat at a table. “Will you have fried oysters?" I asked the man. glancing over the bill of fare. “Yes," answered the little short | woman, as she tried in vain to touch her toes to the floor. “And John, I want a hassock.” John nodded, and, as he handed his order to the waiter, he said, “And bring a hassock for the lady. “One hassock?” repeated the waiter, with more than ordinary interest. Then he lingered around the table, brushing the tablecloth and rearrang ing the articles on it, while his face got very red. Finally he came around to Johns side and whispered: “Say, mister, I haven’t been here long and I'm not on to all these things. Will the lady have the has sock boiled or fried?" ITCHED AND BURNED Silverwood, Mich.—"My baby was about six months old when he first be gan to break out with little pimples on his head and face. Then they would run water and keep getting worse un til his head was a regular sore erup tion and water would run and stream from it and his face also. His whole body was affected. They were little white pimplee which itched and burned something terrible. His cloth ing seemed to irritate him and it was almost impossible for him to sleep at night. They also disfigured him as they were on his face. "We tried medicine but without suc cess. The trouble must have lasted three or four weeks when I thought I would try the Cuticura Soap and Oint ment. I would bathe him with warm water, as warm as he could stand and Cuticura Soap, then apply the Cuti cura Ointment. The very first time that I did this it seemed to relieve him as he slept well and inside of two weeks he was completely healed.” (Signed) Mrs. L. White, Jan. 29, 1914. Cuticura Soap and Ointment sold throughout the world. Sample of each free,with 32-p. Skin Book. Address post card "Cuticura, Dept. L. Boston.”—Adv. Surely in Hard Straits. A Chicago man who has a son at Cornell took occasion while on the way home from Xew York to stop off for the purpose of seeing how the boy was getting along. It happened to he just after the Cornell football team, which had undergone many hu miliations that season, had been beat en by Colgate. “How are things go ing with the football team?" the fa ther asked, pretending to lie seeking information. “The Cornell football team!” the young man exclaimed with all the disgust that he could put Into his tones: “it has been beaten by everything except the Colonial Dames!” Uniforms. “You can’t judge a man by his clothes." “Only in a general way. For in stance. a statesman wears a high hat with a frock coat, while a ward poli tician wears one with a cutaway coat." TOUR OWN DRUGGIST WILI, TKI.I. TOr Try Murine Eye Remedy for Red, Weak. Watery Eyes and Granulated Eyelids: No Smarting— iust Eye Comfort. Write for Book of the Eye t/ mail Free. Murine Kye Remedy Co., Chicago. 1 Making Soap. Liquid soap is converged into solid, either in cake or powdered form, by a recently patented centrifugal ma chine. Smile on wash day. That's when you use Red Cross Ball Blue. Clothes whiter than snow. All grocers. Adv. Our minds are full of waifs and estrays which we think our own.—O. W. Holmes. Don’t Persecute Your Bowels Cut out cathartics and purgatives. They an brutal, harsh, unnecessary'. Try^^ CARTER’S LITTLE LIVER PILLS A Purely vegetable. Act^M gently on the liver, eliminate bile, and soothe the delicate^Rggji membrane of DoweL Lore Constipation, A Biliousness. A Sick Head- ® CARTER'S ■ ITTLE ■ iVER [PILLS. •cue and indigestion, as millions know. SMALL PILL, SMALL DOSE, SMALL PRICE, Genuine must bear Signature Nebraska Directory r:rl’„ Frimary. Grammar Grades audH4:hJcbix>l. "HI 5 All branches taught. BourtUug depanoiFiii 111 limited to twelve girls. Specialdepartment Ideal f°r little girls from six to thirteen years. _ , . Children under supervision of teachers at Vhnnl ail times. For terms, address Wliltton mallPUI Carlisle School. Lincoln, Nebraska BLISS ft WELLMAN Live Stock Commission Merchants 854-8J8 Exchange Building, South (lush* All stock consigned to n* is sold by members of the firm, and all employees have been selected and trained for the woik w nloh they do. ttrtu-pkm.->*i, «■ W. N. U., OMAHA, NO. 28-1914.