The Hollow »• ♦ ♦ [
& ♦ of Her Hand
^George Barr M°Cutcheon
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CHAPTER XXI.—Continued.
"I did not see the register at the
Inn. I did not know till afterwards
that we were not booked. Once up
stairs, I refused to remove my hat or
my veil or my coat until he brought
his friend to me. He pretended to be
very angry over his friend's failure
to be there beforehand, as he had
promised. He ordered a supper
served in the room. I did not eat any
thing. ’ Somehow I was beginning to
understand, vaguely of course, but
surely—and bitterly, Mr. Wrandall.
Suddenly he threw off the mask.
“He coolly informed me that he
knew the kind of a girl I was. 1 had
been on the stage. He said it was no
use trying to work the marriage game
on him. He was too old a bird and
too wise to fall for that. Those were
his words. I was horrified, stunned.
When I began to cry out in my fury,
he laughed at me but swore he would
marry me even at that if it were not
for the fact that he was already mar
ried. ... I tried to leave the room.
He held me. He kissed me a hundred
times before I could break away. 1—
1 tried to scream. ... A little
later on, when I was absolutely des
perate, I—I snatched up the knife.
There was nothing else left for me
to do. I struck at him. He fell back
on the bed. ... 1 stole out of the
house—oh, hours and hours afterward
It seemed to me. I cannot tell you
how long I stood there watching him.
... I was crazed by fear. I—I—”
Redmond Wrandall held up his
band.
“We will spare ycu the rest. Miss
Castleton.” he said, hie voice hoarse
And unnatural. “Th^:«c i£ uu nt-ed to
say more.”
iou—you vqceimanar iou oo Be
lieve me?” she cried.
He looked down at his wife's bowed
bead, and received no sign from her;
then at the white, drawn faces of his
children. They met his gaze and he
read something in their eyes.
“I—I think your story Is co convinc
ing that we—we could not endure the
thame of having it repeated to the
■World.”
“I—I cannot ask you to forgive me,
dir. I only ask you to believe me,”
She murmured brokenly. “I—I am
do try it had to be. God is my witness
that there was no other way."
Mr. Carroll came to hi3 feet. There
were tears in his eyes.
“I think, Mr. Wrandall, you will now
Appreciate my motives in—”
“Pardon me. Mr. Carroll, if I sug
gest that Miss Castleton does not re
quire any defense at present,” said
Mr. Wrandall stiffly. "Your motives
were doubtless good. Will you be so
good as to conduct us to a room where
we may—may be alone for a short
while?"
There was something tragic in the
man’s face. His son and daughter
arose as if moved by an instinctive
realization of a duty, and perhaps for
the first time in their lives were sub
missive to an influence they had never
quite recognized before—a father’s
■unalterable right to command. For
once In their lives they were meek
In his presence. They stepped to his
side and stood waiting, and neither
of them spoke.
Mr. Wrandall laid his hand heavily
on hie wife's shoulder. She started,
looked up rather vacantly, and then
arose without assistance. He did not
make the mistake of offering to assist
her. He knew too well that to ques
tion her strength now would be but to
Invite weakness. She was strong. He I
knew her well.
She stood straight and firm for a
few seconds, transfixing Hetty with a
look that seemed to bore into the very
soul of her, and then spoke.
‘‘You ask us to be your Judges?"
“I ask you to judge not me alone
but—your son aa well,” said Hetty,
meeting her look steadily. “You can
not pronounce me innocent without
pronouncing him guilty. It will be
hard."
Sara raised her head from her arms.
“You know the way into my sitting
••There Was Nothing Else Left for Me
to Do."
Toom, Leslie," she said, with singular
directness. Then she arose and drew
her figure to its full height. “Please
remember that it is I who am to be
(Judged. Judge me as I have judged
Jjrou. I am not asking for mercy.”
Hetty impulsively threw her arms
About the rigid figure, and 3wept a
-pleading 'look from one to the other
lof the four stony-faced Wrandalls.
They turned away without a word
(or a revealing look, and slowly moved
•off in the direction of the boudoir.
'They who remained behind stood still,
Biodonless as statues. It was Vivian
I who opened the library door. Sue
closed it after the others had passed
i through, and did not look behind.
’♦*•••••
1 Half an hour passed. Then the door
*was opened and the tall old man ad
jwanced into the room.
"We have found against my son.
Miss Caetleton,” he said, his lips
twitching. "He is not here to speak
I for himself, but he has already been
1 judged. We, his family, apologize to
! you for what you have suffered from
! the conduct of one of us. Mot one but
all of us believe the story you have
told. It must never be retold. We
ask this of all of you. It is not in
our hearts to thank Sara for shielding
you, for her hand is still raised
against us. We are fair and just.
If you had come to us on that
wretched night and told the story
of my son’s infamy, we, the Wrar.dalls,
would have stood between you and the
law. The law could not have touched
you then; it shall not touch you now.
Our verdict, if you choose to call it
that, is sealed. No man shall ever
hear from the lips of a Wrandall the
smallest part of what has transpired
here tonight. Mr. Carroll, you were
right. We thank you for the counsel
that led this unhappy girl to place her
self in our hands.”
"Oh, God, I thank thee—I thank
thee!” burst from the lips of Sara
Wrandall. She strained Hetty to her
breast.
“It is not for us to judge you, Sara,"
said Redmond Wrandall, speaking with
difficulty. “You are your own judge,
and a harsh one you will find yourself.
As for ourselves, we can only look
upon your unspeakable design as the
working of a temporarily deranged
mind. You could never have carried
it out. You are an honest woman. At
the last you would have revolted, even
with victory assured. Perhaps Leslie
is the only one who has a real griev
ance against you in this matter. 1
am convinced that he loved Miss
Castleton deeply. The worst hurt is
his. and he has been your most de
voted advocate during all the years
of bitterness that has existed between
you and us. You thought to play him
a foul trick. You could not have car
ried it to the end. We leave you to
pass judgment on yourself.”
“I have already done so, Mr. Wran
dall,” said Sara. “Have I not ac
cused myself before you? Have I not
confessed to the only crime that has
been committed? 1 am not proud of
myself, sir."
"You have hated us well.”
“And you have hated me. The crime
you hold me guilty of was committed
years ago. It was when I robbed you
of your son. To this day 1 am the
leper In your path. I may be forgiven
for all else, but not for allowing Chal
lis Wrandall to become the husband
of Sebastian Gooch's daughter. That
is the unpardonable sin.”
Mr. Wrandall wae silent for a mo
ment.
"You still are Sebastian Gooch’s
daughter,” he said distinctly. “You
can never be anything else.”
She paled. "This last transaction
proves it, you would say?*’
“This last transaction, yea”
She looked about her with troubled,
questioning eyes.
"I—I wonder if that can be true,”
ehe murmured, rather piteously. “Am
I so different from the rest of you?
Is the blood to blame?”
“Nonsense!" exclaimed Mr. Carroll
nervously. "Don’t be silly, Sara, my
child. That is not what Mr. Wran
dall means.”
Wrandall turned his face away.
“You loved as deeply as you hate,
Sara,” he said, with a curious twitch
ing of his chin. “My son was your god.
We are not insensible to that Per
haps we have never realized until now
the depth and breadth of your love
for him. Love is a bitter judge of its
enemies. It knows no mercy, it
knows no reason. Hate may be con
quered by love, but love cannot be con
quered by hate. You had reason to
hate my son. Instead you persisted in
your love for him. We—we owe you
something for that, Sara. We owe
you a great deal more than I find
myself able to express in words.”
Leslie entered the room at this in
stant. He bad his overcoat on and
carried his gloves and hat in his
hand.
“We are ready, father,” he said
thickly.
After a moment’s hesitation, he
crossed over to Hetty, who stood be
side Sara.
“I—1 can now understand why you
refused to marry me, Miss Castleton.”
he said, in a queer, jerky manner.
"Won’t you let me say that I wish
you all the happiness still to be found
in this rather uneven world of ours?”
The crowning testimonial to an ab
solutely sincere ego!
CHAPTER XXII.
Renunciation.
On the third day after the singular
trial of Hetty Castleton in Sara's li
brary, young Mrs. Wrandall’s motor
drew up in front of a lofty office build
ing in lower Broadway; its owper
stepped down from the limousine and
entered the building. A few moments
later she walked briskly into the
splendid offices of Wrandall & Co.,
private bankers and steamship-own
ers. The clerks in the outer offices
stared for a moment in significant
surprise, and then bowed respectfully
to the beautiful silent partner in the
great concern.'
It was the first time she had been
seen in the offices since the tragic
event that had served to make her a
member of the firm. A boy at,the in
formation desk, somewhat impressed
by her beauty and the trim elegance
of her long black broad-tail coat, to
say nothing of the dark eyes that
shone rnrough the narrow veil, forgot
the dignity of his office and went so
far as to politely ask her who she
wanted to see and “what name,
please.’’
The senior clerk rushed forward
and transfixed the new boy with a
glare.
“A new boy, Mrs. Wrandall.” he
made haste to explain. To the new
boy’s surprise, the visitor was con
ducted with much bowing and scrap
ing into the private offices, where no
one ventured except by special edict
of the powers.
"Who was It?” he asked, in some
awe, of a veteran stenographer who
came up and sneered at him.
“Mrs. Challis Wrandall. you little
simpleton." said she, and for once he
failed to snap back.
It is of record that for nearly two
whole days, he was polite to every vis
j ltor who approached him and was
i generally worth his salt.
Sara found herself in the close lit
: tie, room that once had been her hus
band’s. but was now scrupulously held
i in reserve for her own use. Rather a
j waste of space, she felt as she looked
i i—rr—;-1.)-rm
“What's This?” He Demanded, Sharply.
about the office. The clerk dusted an
easy chair and threw open the long
unused desk near the window.
“We are very glad to see you here,
madam,” be said. “This room hasn’t
been used much, as you may observe.
Is there anything I can do for you?”
She continued her critical survey of
the room. Nothing bad been changed
since the days when she used to visit
her husband here on occasions of rare
social importance: such as calling to
take him out to luncheon, or to see
that he got safely home on rainy after
noons. The big picture of a steamship
still hung on the wall across the room.
Her own photograph, in a silver frame
stood In one of the recesses of the
desk. She observed that there was
a clean white blotter there, too; but
the ink wells appeared to be empty,
if she was to judge by the look of
chagrin on the clerk’s face as he in
spected them. Photographs of polo
scenes in which Wrandall was a prom
inent figure, hung about the walls,
with two or three pictures of his favor
ite ponies, and one of a ragged gipsy
girl with wonderful eyes, carrying a
monkey in a crude wooden cage strap
ped to her back. On closer observa
tion one would have recognized Sara’s
peculiarly gipsy-like features in the
face of the girl, and then one would
have noticed the caption written in
red ink at the bottom of the photo
graph: “The Trurnbell's Fancy Dress
Ball. January 10, '07. Sara as Gipsy
Mab”
With a start, Sara came out of her
painful reverie. She rassed her hand
over her eyes, and seemed thereby to
put the polite senior clerk back into
the picture once more.
“No, thank you. Is Mr. Redmond
Wrandall down this afternoon?”
"He came in not tep minutes ago.
Mr. Leslie Wrandall is also here.
Shall I tell Mr. Wrandall you wish to
see him?”
"You may tell mm that I am here,
if you please," she said.
“I am very sorry about the Ink
wells, madam.” murmured the clerk.
“We—we were not expecting—"
“Pray don’t let it disturb you. Mr.
Bancroft. I shall not use them to
day."
“They will be properly filled by to
morrow.”
“Thank you.”
He disappeared She relaxed in the
familiar, comfortable old leather-cush
ioned chair, and closed her eyes. ]
There was a sharp little line between
them, but it was hidden by the veil.
The door opened slowly and Red
mond Wrandall came into the room.
She arose at once.
“This Is—er—an unexpected pleas
ure, Sara." he said perplexed and ill
at-ease. He stopped just inside the
door he had been careful to close be
hind him, and did not offer her his
hand.
“I came down to attend to some
business, Mr. Wrandall.” she said.
“Business?” he repeated, staring.
She took note of the tired, haggard
look in his eyes, and the tightly
compressed lips.
“I Intend to dispose of my entire in
terest In Wrandall & Co.,” she an
nounced calmly.
He took a step forward, plainly
startled by the declaration.
“What's this?** he demanded sharp
ly
“We may as well speak plainly, Mr.
Wrandall,” she said. “You do not
care to have me remain a member of
the firm, nor do I blame you for feel
ing as you do about it. A year ago
you offered to buy me out—or off. as
I took it to be at the time. I had rea
sons then for not selling out to you.
Today I am ready either to buy or to
seil.’*
“You—you amaze me,” he exclaim
ed.
"Does you offer of last December
still stand?”
“I—1 think we would better have
Leslie In, Sara. This is most unex
pected. I don’t quite feel up to—”
“Have Leslie in by all means.” she
said, resuming her seat.
DIDN’T READ ALL THE SIGNS
Amateur Sleuth Should Have Noticed
That His Victim Was a Man of
Quick Temper.
The one was a young man with the
light of ambition to be a detective
shining in his eyes; the other a mid
dle-aged man, who was reading a news
| paper.
“Great man, wasn't he?*’ queried
the young man at last.
■'Who?” asked the other as he looked
up.
"Sherlock Holmes.'*
“So I’ve heard.”
"But there are others,” continued
the young man as a smile of self-satis
faction lighted up his face.
“Yes.”
"For instance, you are a bookkeeper.
I can tell by the ink stain on your
fingers. You are a careless man in
money matters, as that dollar peeping
out of your change pocket clearly
proves.”
“Anything more?” asked the man
with the paper.
“You were brought up in the coun
try. as your bow legs tell at a glance.
You are something of a sport, as I as
sured myself when I saw you reading
that article about Corbett. From the
way you cock your eye I should be
willing to bet that you are fond of the
ballet and always have a front seat”
"Is that all?”
"That’s about all, and I'd like to
know if I have hit you oft?”
“If that is all, then let me tell you
something. You are an acrobat”
"Acrobat!—ha! ha! ha! What makes
you think that?"
“Because," said the other, as he
seized him by the neck and knee and
carried him out to the platform; ’’be
cause you take such a beautiful tum
ble to yourself.”
And he lifted him up add gave him
a heave which landed him in the mud
and left him sprawling over half a
block.
Why 8he Mourned.
“Boo-hoo!*k sobbed the lady.
“What are you crying about?” the
man asked.
“You know the bread and the jelly
I sent to the fair?"
“Yes. Didn’t it take a prize? Well,
cheer up—those judges—’’
“But it did take a prize—they both
took first prizes—boo-hoo!—”
“Well, what are you crying kbout?”
“The bread took first prize as the
best specimen of concrete, and the
jelly as the best china cement! ”
OYSTER NOT GOOD FOR ALL
Many Stomachs to Which It is Not a
Welcome Visitor, According
to Physician.
It Is popularly supposed that the
oyster digests himself in the human
stomach owing to the great size of the
liver, which is crushed as mastica
tion begins and is thought to digest
the mollusk itself. As the oyster,
moreover, contains some ten per cent,
of extremely assimilation protein, to
gether with phosphorized fats and
glycogen, it has always been freely ad
ministered to convalescents, while
dyspeptic bons vtvants have never
hesitated to eat it abundantly.
Doctor Pron expresses the opinion
that the oyster may be allowed,
therefore, to those dyspeptics whose
gastric functions are deflcient, in
anorexia, gastric atony, ulcer and in
cipient cancer, and to convalescents
from acute disease, as it is likely to
improve the appetite and to excite the
stomach to increased motor and chem
ical activity.
But to the large number of dyspep
tics whose stomachs are hyperacid or
hypersensitive Doctor Pron would
forbid the oyster as well as all other
stimulating foods. In many of theso
dyspeptics the gastric secretion is al
ready sufficient, and it is unnecessary
and unwise to Increase it.
Island Paradise of Birds.
On one little island in Gatun lake,
formerly known as Lion Hill, before
the impounded waters of the Cnagres
river isolated it from the rest of the
Canal Zone, are more species of birds
than in any one locality in the west
ern hemisphere. E. A. Goldman of the
biological survey, department of agri
culture, in two short collecting trips
to Panama has procured about 200
different species, and it is estimated
that a larger variety Is to be found
within the limits of the Canal Zone
than in any one state in the United
States—about 900.
In the neighborhood of Gatun, at the
Atlantic entrance of the Canal Zone,
no less than 250 species have been
found.
Good Ones.
“Do you want me to misrepresent
the goods and say they are fine when
they are not?” asked the new sales
man.
“Yes,” sternly answered the 'un
scrupulous dealer. “Always remem
ber that our assets are your lie-abil
ities.”
| He hesitated a moment, opened his
! lips as if to speak, and then abruptly
i left the room.
Sara smiled.
■ Many minutes passed before the two
Wrandalls put in an appearance. She
understood the delay. They were
telephoning to certain legal advisers.
“What’s this I hear, Sara?” demand
ed I-eslie, extending his hand after a
second’s hesitation.
She shook hands with him. not list
lessly but with the vigor born of nerv
ousness.
"I don’t know what you’ve heard,”
she said pointedly.
His slim fingers went searching for
the end of his moustache.
“Why—why, about selling out to
us,” he stammered.
“I am willing to retire from the firm
of Wrandall & Co.,” she said.
“Father says the business is as good
as it ’vas a year ago, but I don’t agree
with him,” said the son, trying to
look lugubrious.
“Then you don’t care to repeat your
original proposition?"
“Well, the way business has been
falling off—”
“Perhaps you would prefer to sell
out to me,” she remarked quietly.
“Not at all!” he said quickly, with
a surprised glance at his father. “We
couldn't think of letting the business
pass out of the Wrandall name."
“You forget that my name is Wran
dall,” she rejoined. ' There would be
no occasion to change the firm’s
name; merely its membership.”
“Our original offer stands,” said the
senior Wrandall stiffly. “We prefer
to buy.”
“And I to sell. Mr. Carroll will
meet you tomorrow, gentlemen. He
will represent me as usual. Our busi
ness as well as social relations are
about to end, I suppose. My only re
gret is that I cannot further accom
modate you by changing my name.
Still you may live in hope that time
may work even that wonder for you."
She arose. The two men regarded
her in an aggrieved way for a mo
ment.
“I have no real feeling of hostility
toward yon, Sara,” said Leslie nerv
ously. “in spite of all that you said
the other night.”
“I am afraid you don’t mean that,
deep down in your heart, Leslie,” she
said, with a queer little smile.
“But I do,” he protested. "Hang it
all. we—we live in a glass house our
selves, Sara. 1 dare say. in a way, I
was quite as unpleasant as the rest
of the family. You see, we just can’t
help being snobs. It's in us, that’s all
there is to it.”
Mr. Wrandall looked up from the
floor, his gaze having dropped at the
first outburst from his son’s lips.
“We—we prefer to be friendly, Sara,
if you will allow us—”
She laughed and the old gentleman
stopped in the middle of his sentence.
“We can’t be friends. Mr. Wran
dall." she said, suddenly serious. “The
pretence would be a mockery. We
are all better off if we allow our paths,
our interests to diverge today.”
“Perhaps you are right,” said he,
compressing his lips.
“I believe that Vivian and I could—
but no! I won’t go so far as to say
that either. There is something genu
ine about her. Strange to say. I have
never disliked her.”
“If you had made the slightest ef
fort to like us, no doubt we could
have—”
“Mv dear Mr. Wrandall." she inter
rupted quickly, “I credit you with the
desire to be fair and just to me. You
have tried to like me. You have even
deceived yourself at times. I—but
why these gentle recriminations? We
merely prolong an unfortunate con
test between antagonistic natures,
with no hope of genuine peace being
established. I do not regret that I
am your daughter-in-law, nor do I be
lieve that you would regret it if I had
not been the daughter of Sebastian
Gooch.”
“Your father was as little impress
ed with my son as I was with his
daughter.” said Redmond Wrandall
drily. “I am forced to confess that he
was the better judge. We had the
better of the bargain.”
"I believe you mean it, Mr. Wran
dall.” she said, a note of gratitude in
her voice. “Good-bye Mr. Carroll
will see you tomorrow.” She glanced
quickly about the room. “I shall send
for—for certain articles that are no
longer required in conducting the bus
iness of Wrandall & Co.”
With a quaint little smile, she indi
cated the two photographs of herself.
"By Jove. Sara,” burst out Leslie
abruptly. “I wish you'd let me have
that Gipsy Mab picture. I’ve always
been dotty over it, don’t you know.
Ripping study.”
Her up curiea sngntiy.
“As a matter of fact.” he explained
conclusively, “Chal often said he’d
leave it to me when he died. In a
joking way, of course, but I’m sure he
meant it”
"You may have it, Leslie.” she said
slowly. It is doubtful if he correctly
interpreted the movement of her head
as she uttered the words.
“Thanks,” said he. “I’ll hang it in
mv den. if you don't object.”
“We shall expect Mr. Carroll tomor
row. Sara.” said his father, with an air
of finality. “Good-bye. May I ask
what plans you are making for the
w’nter?"
“They are very indefinite."
“I say. Sara, why don’t you get
married?” asked Leslie, surveying che
Gipsy Mab photograph with undis
guised admiration as he held it at
arm’s length. “Rippitg!” This to the
picture.
She paused near the door to stare
at him for a moment, unutterable
scorn in her eyes.
“I’ve had a notion you were pretty
keen about Brandy Booth,” he went
on amiably.
She caught her breath. There was
an instant's hesitation on her part be
fore she replied.
“You have never been very smart at
making love guesses, Leslie,” she said.
"It's a trick you haven't acquired.”
He laughed uncomfortably. "Neat
stroke, that.”
Following her into the corridor out
side the offices, he pushed the elevator
bell for her.
“I meant what I said. Sara,” he re
i marked, somewhat doggedly. “You
| ought to get married. Chal didn’t
! leave much for you to cherish. There’s
I no reason why you should go on like
this, living alone and all that sort of
thing. You’re young and beautiful
and—”
"Oh, thank you, Leslie,” she cried
out sharply.
“You see, it’s going to be this way:
Hetty will probably marry Booth
That’s on dit, I take it. You’re depend
ing on her for companionship. Well,
she’ll quit you cold after she’s mar
ried. She will—”
She interrupted him peremptorily.
“If Challis did nothing else for me,
Leslie, he at least gave me you to
cherish. Once more, good-bye.”
The elevator stopped for her. He '
strolled back to his office wtih a puz- |
zled frown on his face. She certainlv
was inexplicable!
The angry red faded from her
cheeks as she sped homeward in the
automobile. Her thoughts were no
longer of Leslie but of another . . .
She sighed and closed her eyes, and
her cheeks were paie.
Workmen from a picture dealer's es
tablishment were engaged in hanging
a full length portrait in the long liv
ing-room of her apartment when she
reached home. She had sent to the
country for Booth’s picture of Hetty,
and was having it hung in a conspicu
ous place.
Passing the open library door, Sara
paused for an instant to peer within.
Then she went on down the hall to her
own sitting-room. The canary was
singing glibly in his cage by the win
dow-side.
She threw aside her furs, and, with
out removing her hat. passed into the :
bed-chamber at the left of the cozy lit
tle boudoir. This was Hetty’s room
Her own was directly opposite. On
the girl’s dressing-table, leaning
against the broad, low mirror, stood
the unframed photograph of a man.
"With a furtive glance over her shoul
der, Sara crossed to the table and
took up the picture in her gloved
hand. For a long time she stood there
gazing into the frank, good-looking
face of Brandon Booth. She breathed
faster; her hand shook; her eyes
were strained as if by an inward sug
gestion of pain.
She shook her head slowly, as if In
final renunciation of a secret hope or
the banishment of an unwelcome de
sire, and resolutely replaced the pho
tograph. Her lips were almost white
as she turned away and re-entered the
room beyond.
“He belongs to her,” she said, un
consciously speaking aloud; "and he is
like all men. She must not be unhap
py”
Presently she entered the library
She had exchanged her tailor-suit for a
dainty house-gown. Hetty was still
seated in the big lounging chair, be
fore the snapping fire, apparently not
having moved since she looked in on
passing a quarter of an hour befora
One of the girl’s legs was curled up
under her, the other swung loose; an ]
elbow rested on the arm of the chair, I
and her cheek was in her hand.
Coming softly up from behind, Sara
leaned over the back of the chair and
put her hands under her friend's chin,
tenderly, lovingly. Hetty started and
shivered.
“Oh, Sara, how cold your hands
are!"
She grasped them in her own and
fondly stroked them, as if to restore
warmth to the long, slim fingers w’hich
I
“Because I Love You So Dearly,” Said
Sara.
gave the lie to Mrs. Coburn's declara
tions.
“I’ve been thinking all morning of
what you and Brandon proposed to
me last night,” said Sara, looking
straight over the girl’s head, the dark,
languorous, mysterious glow filling her
eyes. “It is good ot you both to want
me, but—"
“Now don't say ‘but,’ Sara,” cried
Hetty. “We mean it, and you must
let us have our way.”
“It would be splendid to be near
you all the time, dear; it would be
wonderful to live with you as you so
generously propose, but I cannot do
it I must decline.”
“And may I ask why you decline to
live with me?” demanded Hetty re
sentfully.
“Because I love you so dearly ” said
Sara. -
THie uagp.
mmt
iMMivro
DEMAND FOR BETTER ROADS
No Reason Why Portion of Tax Should
Not Be Used in Putting Highways
in Better Condition.
There is a growing demand for
more and better road making during
the autumn months. In many locali
ties the roads become filled with deep
ruts and the wheel tracks so de
pressed during the summer that they
collect rains which soon wash them
into gutters which soon ruin the reads
for heavy loads and comfortable travel
There is no reason why a portion of
A Durable Stone Culvert.
the road tax should not be use! for
putting the highways in good condi
tion for travel, says Northwestern Ag
riculturist. The split log dragg a»d
other road-making implements should
be put to work before the grand
freezes. The outside of the roads
should be brought Into the center of
the track which will establish a crust
that will shed the water, rather than
retain rains, which are sure to occur
during the late fall and early Bpring
months. Roads having a full-high cen
ter are quite sure to remain in good
condition during the rainy season of
fall and spring. Steep hills, where wa
ter is apt to collect in wheel tracks,
should be provided with open gutters
on each side into which rains may be
diverted with an occasional crest over
which water cannot pass. Approaches
to bridges and culverts should be so
filled with earth that vehicles of all
kinds may pass over them without
serious jolts and jars. Roads are much
improved when covered with gravel.
This is a season of the year when such
work can be accomplished at a mini
mum expense. Every township should
own gravel pits from which road-ma
king material can be cheaply obtained
Concrete roads will soon become pop
ular. The same material only should
be used in making small bridges and
culverts. A good quality of sand and
gravel is necessary to make service
able concrete. Every farmer should
have a special interest in all roads ad
joining his premises and leading to
market.
INCREASE THE LAND VALUES
Strong Argument in Favor o* Good
Roads Is That They Enhance Value
of Bordering Farms.
It takes all kinds of arguments to
interest the numerous types of men
found In every community In public
improvements. One man will sanction
and work for good roads when he is
convinced that they will shorten and
expedite the haul of some special crop
that he produces. Another will assist
because he owns a motorcar. One of
the most effective arguments is that
good roads will enhance the Talue of
farms bordering upon them, says
Breeder’s Gazette.
Several real estate dealers in Iowa
have begun to advertise land as lo
cated "on the Lincoln Highway.” Ex
perience has shown that this U a
strong ‘talking point.” Of course
the great national road if not fin
ished, but it is already famous, and
since it will steadily increase in his
toric interest many properties abut
ting it will probably acquire an aug
mented selling value. Unfortunatel>
only a small percentage of farms are
located on the Lincoln Highway, but
that thoroughfare marks the inaugu
ration In this country of the old-world
attitude toward convenient and pleas
ant highways and byways as a means
of socializing and upbuilding a large
hearted, broad-minded citizenship.
Age of Progress.
The age is progressive. Fifty or
sixty years ago this country began to
build railroads, and now we have more
than nearly all the rest of the world
together. In place of crude industrial
facilities, we have the very best on
earth; yet we are behind ocher civil
ized nations in the improvement of our
roads. We are beginning r.ow to do
with our highways what should have
been done long ago.
The spirit of good roads is hered
itary.
Grazing Pasture Lands.
Don’t graze the pasture land too hard
early in the season.
Place for Lime.
.The place for lime is in the soil, not
on top of it
Charcoal for Chides.
Keep fine charcoal and grit where
chicks may have free access to It.
Best for Sandy Soil.
Ground limestone and marl are best
to apply to a sandy soil.