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About The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917 | View Entire Issue (Aug. 5, 1915)
m cms spy • * The Mystery of a Silent Love • • 6r levaher WILLIAM LEQUEUX f (J AUTHOR f "THE CLOSED BOOK/ ETC- ^ ILLUSTRATIONS /% C D RHODES j fobt me 3*a*t irr ruauiM/*; co SYNOPSIS. • -7— Gordon Gregg l» called -port to let •ora |.> llsri.l i the yacht I->da*s owner, ud dining ale ard with Mm and hts n*a<J. M* iU-n Orator. ac. Ider.tally we* • lorn pi olograph of a gin That MH the rimoui’a aafe la r - *!.<« ftf.d that H* r»by I* a fraud and he l<a a name a false on* Gregg tla ta Cape. Jack Ihimford of tie* n.urine* • i- tit hi* ie»*el. lmmfor I knows but nil *M retea. the return of the I-oLa “It conert-na a *«un In J»f»d«*n iregg la trapped nearly to hia death by • former servant. OUntn Vtaitlng in •amfr.en Gregg meets >1 .n*l Ijrlt!.court d. rt.hy Sl peare and M -ru-l Introduces #n aa Mart.r W.-o<Jr- ffe h* r father’* Tlend Gregg f.ndo that abe is engaged la Woodruff* Grace o*» a copy of the ora phoGgrapr. aa the la-la *nd find* f*! the yo.l.c glr’. 1* Munel’r friend. • codtoffe disappear* Gregg discovers Udf of a b.-rdered a - in tn Kan **■ t word. The tody disappear* and in go place in found the Mj of < >Imfo. •'egg tafka to the police but < • nceala hi* »wr ku-vMtr of the aranr Muriel *w’-ia wcne'ly on Gregg and t. :'•* him that •he 1* rerram that a won a-. i« well a* I man i aa two murdered T < y warch •twr-iue t. wood together and find the *ody of t - e v- er.an Gregg r*-. agnize* *** a* Arm la Ottnio* »-tf. <t-egg tells ’•*-» poM<e hui » :.en they g-< to the wood to UJy t-a* disappeared. CHAPTER VII—Continued. That nigt* after calling upon the Selective Mackenzie. ! took the sleep ing car express to Easton The res Aurmnt which Hutcheson had indicated was I found situated about halfway »p Westbourne Grove, nearly oppo me Wt teiey’s It was soon after nine • Hock when I entered the long shop • tth its rows of marble-tcpt* d tables and greasy Uungea of red flush An iLhesitby-looking lad was sweeping »ut the place with wet sawdust, and a >tg dark bearded, flabby-faced man in thin sleeves stood behind the small xmnter polishing some forks. ’ 1 wish to see Signor Ferrari." 1 said, addressing him. "There •* no Ferrari, he is <2* ad." re •ponded the man in broken FugHsh. *M* name is Odinzoff. ! bought the place from madame " "I have come to inquire after a •miter you have in your service, an laiian named Fantinl. He was my •ervant for some years, and 1 naturally take at in'erest in him.” 'Santini’" he repeated “Oh you nenn Oiinto? He is not here yet. He x me* at ten o'cloch.” Th:» reply surprised me I had ex *ect#d the restaurant keeper to ex press regret at his disappearance, yet he spoke as though he bad been at •ork as usual on the previous day. find Oiinto a good servant. 1 u-pposef I said, for warn of nii.e hitf else to say. Excellent The Italians are the best •miters m the world 1 am Russian, wt 1 dare not employ a Russian w&it r* These English would not come to *.» shop if I did " How long has Oiinto been with x>u’~ I inquired About a year- perhaps a little acre 1 trust him implicitly and I e**e him in charge when I go away ‘or holidays He does not get along very well with the cook—who is Mi nus** These Italians from different provinces always quarrel.” he added. A^db-ng "If you live in Italy you snow that, no doubt ' I laughed In chorus and'hen. gianc ng at my watch, said “111 wait for him It he will be here at ten. I'd aiuch like to see him again " The Russian was by no means nor ilused bat merely remarked: He i« ate sometimes but not often He lives » the other side of London—over at Camberwell “ Suddenly & side door open* d and the -ook put his head in to speak with aia master in French He was a tvpi ml Italian about forty, with dark mus aches turned upwards, and an easy folag careless manner Feeing me. *o»ev< r. and believing me to be a cus outer, be turned and closed the door (sickly. In that instant I not iced the ngb broadness of his shoulders, and li* back struck me as strangely simi lar to that of the man in brown whom • e had seen disappearing in Kannoch • ocd The suspicion held me breathless. Presently Odinzoff went outside, tar 71®* with him two boards upon which •he menu of the Kightpenr.y Lunch 's* ' This Uay?” was written in •crawly characters, and proceeded to tlfii them to the shop front. TbU was my opportunity, and cuick •» thought 1 moved toward: where th> :lhealth! youth was at work, atd ■ t.sp» red "I'll *tve you ha!?-a-sovt—eipr: if roc 11 answer my Questions truthfully Kow. -HI me. was the cook the maa I ts just seen, here yesterday? ' “Emilio’ Yes. sir.” "Was he here the day before?” “No. sir He's been away ill for i four days ” "Ar;d your master?" 1 had no time to put any further question, for the Russian re-entered at that moment, and the youth busied himself rubbing the front of the coun ' ter in pretense that I had not spoken to him Indeed. I had some difficulty in slipping the promised coin into his hand at a moment when his master was not looking. While 1 stood there a rather thin, re spectably dressed man entered and seated himself upon one of the plush lounges at the farther end. removed his bowler hat and ordered from the proprietor a chop and a pot of tea. Then, taking a newspaper from his pocket, he settled himself to read, ap parently oblivious to his surroundings. And yet as I watched I saw* that over the top of his paper he was carefully taking in the general appearance of the place, and his eyes were keenly following the Russian's movements. So deep was his interest in the place, and so keen those dark eyes of his, that the truth suddenly dawned upon me Mackenzie had telegraphed to Scotland Yard and the customer sitting there was a detective who had come to investigate. I had advanced to the counter to chat again with the proprie tor when a quick step behind me caused me to turn. Hefore me stood the slim figure of a * man in a straw- hat and rather seedy black jacket. "Hio Signor Padrone!” he cried I staggered as though I had received ! a blow. tHinio Santini in the flesh, smiling and well, stood there before me! 1 - CHAPTER VIII. Life's Counter-Claim. No word of mine i an express my ab solute and abject amazement when I j aeed the man. whom I had seen ly ng cold and dead upon that gray stone idab in the mortuary of Dumfries. Mv eye caught the customer who. : on ihe entry of Olinto, had dropped his paper and sat staring at him in j wonderment. The detective had evi- ! dently been furnished with a photo graph of the dead man. and now, like ; myself, discovered him alive and liv- ! ! mg. S gnor Padrone!" cried the man whose appearance was so absolutely bewildering "How did you find me ! here? I admit that 1 deceived you ' when I told you I worked at the Mi- j iano. he went on rapidly in Italian. "But it was under compulsion—my ac tions that night were not my own— but those of others " "Yes. I understand." I said "But j come out into the street. I don't wish i to siK-ak before these people. Your ; padrone knows Italian, no doubt.” And turning with a smile to the Pole. I i apologized for taking away his serv ant tor a few minutes. And when we were outside, Olinto waii^jng by my side in wonderment, 1 asked suddenly: Tell me. Have you ever been in Scotland—at Dumfries?" Never signor, in my life. Why?” Answer me another question,” I s. id quickly. You married Armida at the Italian consulate. Where is she now—where is she this morn ing’" He turned pale and I saw a com ■ plete change in his countenance. Ah signore!” he responded. "I I only wish I could tell." ! cast no reflection whatever upon vou. Olinto: 1 have merely inquired after >our wife, and you do not give me a direct reply" We had walked to the Royal Oak. and stood talking on the curb outside. "I give you no reply, because I can't" he said in Italian. Armida— m> poor Armida—has left home.” hy did you tell me such a tale of , distress regarding her'’” As ! have already explained, sig • nore, 1 was not then master of my ! own actions I was ruled by others But 1 saved your life at risk of my I own. Some day, when It is safe, I } will re\ea! to you everything,' t us ul.ow the past to remain," I stud ‘"Where is your wife now?" Ht hesitated a moment, looking s-ratght into my face. The truth is. Signor Coinmenda re : .-<at my wife has mysteriously Uist!< ared. Last Saturday at eleven e site was talking over the gar den wad with a neighbor, and was tic n ci:• i. to go out. She apparent rfISIT SPRINGS TO STAY WELL neatth Resorts Are by No Means Only for Those Who Are Sick and Afflicted. America possesses springs and eealth resorts that equal any found In Europe. American physicians in t*ery branch of medicine are ts ratable and efficient as those of any other country. Our doctor* are now. more than ever, recommending hydra te rapy a* a curative treatment for many forms of disease Gout, rheu matism. obesity, nervous and skin diseases malarial infection, sciatica, dyspepsia, liver and kidney diseases tnd many other ailments are elieved and often cured by the hea. j giving properties of natural spring water • ten used by tbe advice and under the prescription of reputable physi cians These treatments are not sole ly for the sick and afflicted Many •ho are In tbe cenaeless activity af tbe business world or surrounded by the humdrum existence and manifold worries of household duties find rest, lelisation and renewed vigor at any ' f our health resorts, w here the treat ment is com bit ed with a life so care ire r that it is in itself a tonic. The outdo. exercise and wholesome pleasure derived from a stay at any of the numerous springs make the '•is.de sleep sounder, eat with a bet ter appetite, laugh more and live enter Persons do not go to the springs ar.d baths only to get well, but to krep we 11 and have a good time while- they are about it Many of our great business men and deepest thinkers make visits to ■orne spring or bath regularly and •ake the treatment once or twice a year thus keeping in fine physical condition. Some people have an idea that these- tre-’"uents are expensive, but such is no; the case.—Leslie's. Lost Art. They had been sitting around the table at the club all evening as usual talking about the war—always the war. There fell a little silence at last and then Jones spoke. "Is there any person present,” said he. "who can tell me what it was we used to talk about before the war?” ly went out, but from that moment no one has seen or heard of her.” It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him the ghastly truth, yet so strange was the circumstance that his own double, even to the mole upon his face, should be lying dead and burled in Scotland that I hesitated to relate what I knew. . "She spoke English, I suppose?" "She could make herself understood very well,” he said with a sigh, and 1 saw a heavy, thoughtful look upon his brow. That he was really devoted to her, I knew. With the Italian of whatever station in life, love is all consuming—it Is either perfect love or genuine hatred. The Tuscan char acter is one of two extremes. I glanced across the road, and saw that the detective who had ordered his chop and coffee had stopped to light bis pipe and was watching us. "But why haven't you told the po lice?” “I prefer to make Inquiries for my self." “And in what have your inquiries re sulted ?" "Nothing—absolutely nothing," he said gravely. "You do not suspect any plot? I recollect that night in Lambeth you told me you had enemies?” "Ah! so I have, signore—and so have you!” he exclaimed hoarsely. "Yes. my poor Armlda may have been entrapped by them.” “And if entrapped, what then?" "They would kill her with as lit tle compunction as they would a fly,” he said. "Ah! you do not know the callousness of those people. I only hope and pray that she may have es caped and is in hiding somew here, and will arrive unexpectedly and give me a startling surprise. She delights in startling me,” he added with a laugh. “Then you think she must have been called away from home by some urg ent message?” I suggested. "By the manner in which she left things, it seemed as though she went away hurriedly. There were five sov Olinto Santini in the Flesh, Smiling and Well, Stood There Before Me. ereigns in a drawer that we had saved for the rent, and she took them with her.” I paused, hesitating whether to tell him the terrible truth. 1 recollected that the body had disappeared, there fore what proof had I of my allega tion that she had been murdered? "Tell me, Olinto,” I said as we moved forward again in the direction of Paddington station, “have you any knowledge of a man named Leith court?” He started suddenly and locked at me. “I have heard of him," he answered very lamely. "And of his daughter—Muriel?” "And also of her. But 1 am not ac quainted with them—nor, to tell the truth, do I wish to be.” "Why?” “Because they are enemies of mine —bitter enemies.” His declaration was strange, for it threw some light upon the tragedy in Rannocb wood. "And of your wife, also?” "I do not know that,” he respond ed. "My enemies are my wife's also, I suppose.” "You have not told me the secret of that dastardly attempt upon me when we last met.” I said in a low voice. Why not tell me the truth? I surely ought to know who my enemies really are, so as to be warned against any future plot." “You shall know some day, signore. 1 dare not tell you now.” “You said that before," I exclaimed with dissatisfaction. "If you are HAS HAD TRAGIC HISTORY From Earliest Times. Soissons Has Been the Scene of Warfare That Was Almost Constant. In the history of warfare conducted in France there is no town which bears such an unenviable record as that of Soissons. which, in times of peace, has a pleasant location on one bank of the River Aisne, surrounded by wooded hills. At one time there w as no more popular place of pilgrim age, when its abbeys were the rich est in the land with the best blood of the country at their head, and when the abbots of St. Medard, the most important of ail French abbevs dur ing the first two dynasties, coined money, and were lords of almost in numerable villages, farms and manors. Soissons was the field of the mis sionary labors of St. Crispin and St. Crispinian, patrons of the shoemak ing craft, who brought Christianity to the town in the third century. They sufiered severely at the Sands of Rictiovarus, the governor, under whose orders they were stretched on faithful to me, you ought at least to tell me the reason they wished to kill me In secret.” "Because they fear you,” was his an swer. "Why should they fear me?” But he shrugged his shoulders, and made a gesture with his hands indica tive of utter ignorance. '1 ask you one question. Answer yes or no. Is the man Leithcourt my enemy?" The young Italian paused, and then answered: "He is not your friend. I am qnlte well aware of that. I have known him several years. When we first met he was poor.” “Suddenly became rich—eh?” "Bought a fine house in the country; lives mostly at the Carlton when he and hts wife and daughter are In London—although I believe they now have a house somewhere In the West end—and he often makes long cruises in his steam yacht." "And how did he make his money?*’ Again Olinto elevated his shoulders without replying. He walked with me as far as the end of Bishop’s road, endeavoring with all the Italian's exquisite diplomacy to obtain from me what I knew con cerning the I^eithcourts. But I told him nothing, nor did 1 reveal that I had only that morning returned from Scotland. Then at last we parted, and he retraced his steps to the little res taurant in Westbourne Grove, while I entered a hansom and drove to the well-known photographer's in New Bond street, whose name had been upon the torn photograph of the young girl in the white pique blouse and her hair fastened with a bow of ribbon, the picture that I had found on board the Lola on that memorable night in the Mediterranean, and a duplicate of which I had seen in Muriel s cozy little room up at Rannoch. I recollected that shs had told me i the name of the original was Elma ' Heath, and that she had been a school fellow of hers at Chichester. There fore I inquired of the photographer's lady clerk whether she could supply me with a print of the negative. For a considerable time she searched in her hooks for the nanae, and at last discovered it. Then she said: “I regret, sir, that we can't give you ! a print, for the customer purchased | the negative at the time." “Ah. I'm very sorry for that.” 1 said, j “To what address did you send it?” | "The customer who ordered it was apparently a foreigner,” she said, at the same time turning round the ledger so that I could read, and I saw that the entry was: "Heath—Miss Elma— three dozen cabinets and negative. Address: Baron Xavier Oberg, Vos nesenski Prospect 48, St Petersburg. Russia.” Who was this Baron Oberg? The name was German undoubtedly, yet he lived in the Russian capital. From London to St. Petersburg is a far cry, yet I resolved if it were necessary 1 would travel there and investigate. At the German embassy, in the Carl- 1 ton House Terrace., I found my friend. Captain Nieberdiug. the second sec retary, of whom I inquired whether the name of Baron Oberg was known, but having referred to a number of German books in his excellency’s li brary, he returned and told me that the name did not appear in the lists of the German nobility. "He may be Russian—Polish, most probably,” added the captain. His opinion was that it was not a German name, for there was a little place called Oberg, he said, on the railway between Ix>dz and Lowicz. Next day I ran down to Chichester, and after some difficulty found the Cheverton College for Ladies, a big old-fashioned house about half a mile out of the town of the Drayton road. The seminary was evidently a first class one. for when I entered I no ticed how well everything was kept. To the principal an elderly lady of somewhat'severe aspect, I said: "I regret, madam, to trouble you, i but 1 am in search of information you can supply. It is with regard to a certain Elma Heath whom you had as pupil here, and who left, 1 believe, about two years ago. Her parents lived in Durham. There has been some j little friction in the family, and I am making inquiries on behalf of another branch of it—an aunt who desires to ascertain the girl's whereabouts." "Ah. I regret, sir. that I cannot tell you that. The baron, her uncle, came here one day and took her away sud denly—abroad, 1 think." "Had she no school friends to whom she would probably write?" “There was a girl named Leithcourt —Muriel Leithcourt—who was bet friend, but who has also left." "And no one else?" 1 asked "Girls ! often write to each other after leav- j ing school, until they get married j and then the correspondence usually ; ceases.' The principal was silent and reflec-! tive. v "Well," she said at last, "there was ! another pupil who was also on friendly | terms with Elma—a girl named Lydia j Moreton She may have written to j her. If you really uesire to know,' the rack and after the application of several ether tortures were thrown into the Aisne, a millstone having first been tied around the neck of each They were able to swim, how ever. and managed to reach the oppo site bank Soissons has been the scene of many victories and defeats, has been sacked times without number, and enjoys an unenviable notoriety for the great number of sieges it has un- ! dergone. In 1870 the Germans en- j tered it after a bombardment of four days. Fortune for Missing Boy. If Keith Dairymple, the missing Port Alleghany boy, returns home now, after an absence of more than eight years, he win find that the. for tune of $365,000 is about all that awaits him. The missing heir's moth er, whose death occurred a year ago I as a result of worry over her son's absence, has been followed by the death of%Hugh Dairymple, bis brother. Hugh Dairymple died on his farm near North Bast He was a joint heir with Keith Dairymple of the Arnold sir, I dare say I could And her ad* dress. She left us about nine months after Elma." "I should esteem tt a great favor If you would give me that young lady's address," 1 said, whereupon she un locked a drawer In her writing-table and took therefrom a thick. leather bound book which she consulted for s few minutes, at last exclaiming: "Yes, here it is—Lydia Moreton, daughter of Sir Hamilton Moreton, K. C. M. G., Whiston Grange, Doncas ter.’" And with that I took my leave, thanking her, and returned to Lon don. Could Lydia Moreton furnish any information? If so, I might find this girl whose photograph had aroused the irate jealousy of the mysterious un known. The ten o'clock Edinburgh express from King's Cross next morning took me up to Doncaster, and hiring a musty old fly at the station, I drove three miles cut of the town on the Rother ham road, flnding Whiston Grange 'tc be a fine old Elizabethan mansion in the center of a great park, with tall old twisted chimneys, and beautifully kept gardens. When I descended at the door and rang, the footman was not aware whether Miss Lydia was in. He looked at me somewhat suspiciously, 1 thought, until l.gave him my card and impressed upon him meaningly that 1 had come from London purposely tc see his young mistress upon a very im portant matter. "Tell her," I said, “that I wish to see her regarding her friend. Miss Elms Heath." "Miss Elma ’Eath," repeated the man. "Very well, sir. Will you walk this way?" 1 follow-ed him across the big old oak-paneled hall, filled with trophies of the chase and arms of the civil wars, into a small paneled room on the left, the deep-set window with its diamond panes giving out upon the old bowling-green and the flower garden beyond. Presently the door opened, and a tall, dark haired girl in w hite entered with an inquiring expression upon hei face as she halted and bowed to me. “Miss Lydia Moreton. 1 believe?" 1 commenced, and as she replied in the affirmative, I went on: "I have first to apologize for coming to you, but Miss Sotheby, the principal of the school at Chichester, referred me tc you for information as to the present whereabouts of Miss Elma Heath, who. I believe, was one of your most inti mate friends at school." And I added a lie, saying: "I am trying on beball of an aunt of hers, to discover her.* "Well,” responded the girl. "I have only one or two letters. She's in hei uncle's hands, I believe, and he won’t let her write, poor girl. She dreaded leaving us.” "Why?” "Ah! she would never say. She had some deep-rooted terror of her uncle Baron Oberg, who lived in St. Peters burg, and who came over at long inter vals to see her. But possibly you know the whole story?” “I know nothing." I cried eagerly “You will be furthering her interests as well as doing me a great personal favor, if you will tell me what you know.” "It is very little,” she answered, leaning back against the edge of the table and regarding me seriously "Poor Elma! Her people treated het very badly indeed. They sent her nc money, and allowed her no holidays and yet she was the sweetest-tempered and roost patient girl in the whole school.” "Well—and the story regarding her?” "It was supposed that her people at Durham did not exist.” she explained "Elma had evidently lived a greatei part of her life abroad, for she could speak French and Italian better than the professor himself, and therefore always won the prizes. The class re volted. and then she did not compete any more. Yet she never told us of where she had lived when a child. She came from Dt .ham. she said—that was all.” "You had a letter from her aftci th" baron came ^d took her away?” “Three or four. 1 think. They were all from places abroad. One was from Vienna, one was from Milan, and one from some place with an unpronounce able name in Hungary. The last—" "Yes. the last!” 1 gasped eagerly, in terrupting her. . (TO BE CONTINUED.) Strength of Fly. An Englishman has made many ex periments with various insects, such as caterpillars, fleas, butterflies a.-d flies, which show how extraordinarily strong these insects are. A bluebottle fly weighing 1-2S of at ounce was hitched by a thread to a tiny wagon and drew a total weight of a little over six ounces, or practic ally 170 times its own weight A caterpillar harnessed in a similar man ner pulled 25 times its own weight A strong man with a like equip ment of large size can at most move but ten times his own weight Palrymple estates, valued at $700.(199 Before his death Hugh Palrymple, like his mother, had spent large sums in searching for Keith, who mysteri ously disappeared from the home of his grandmother, Mrs. F. H. Arnold - of Long Beach. Cal. Hugh Palrymple leaves five children, who will inherit the entire fortune should their ur.ele fail to claim the estate—Kar.e (Pa > Dispatch to Philadelphia North Aiuti* ican. Draftless Huts. A new type of hut for soldiers which, it Is claimed, will allow of a saving of at least 25 per cent on present expenditure, was exhibited re cently at the College of Ambulance. London. ’ The hut is pyramidical In shape and designed to secure a maximum of fresh air with an absence of drafts no matter what the direction of the wind. Seventeen huts of this type, known as the Pritchard principle, will ac commodate, its inventors claim, a bat talion in greater comfort than they are now securing In 34 huts. True Fighter*. “The Black Watch are fighting *o well in France that even the Ger mans praise them. Wonderful fight ers the Irish!’’ The speaker was W. Bourke Cock ran. He continued: “When I think of the valor of the Black Watch regiment I recall the story of Pat McCann. "Pat came home one night with a black eye, a broken nose and a split lip; a front tooth was gone as well. " 'Tim Sullivan done it,’ he told his wife, as he began to bathe his wounds in a basin of water. ‘"Shame on ye!’ Bridget cried. A big feller like you to be licked by a little, hard-drinkin’ cockroach like Tim Sullivan! Why, he—’ ■‘ 'Whist,’ raid Pat from the ba sin, softly. ’Don't shpake evil of the dead.’ ” From the Memories of a Critic. 'Good morning. Mr. Scribblepen.” said I, as I entered the sanctum sanc torum of the famous author of "Noth ing Worth While," "would you mind telling the American people through my paper, the Daily Blister, how you account for the rather mortifying con dition into which the literature of the day seems to have fallen?’’ "Why, it is perfectly simple, my dear fellow," replied Mr. Scribblepen affably, correcting the proofs of his new novel, 'The Worst Yet,” with his feet. "Literature has been dead for so long a time that mortification has set in as a natural sequence to its de cease.”—John Kendrick Bangs. Getting Along Nicely. A minister, meeting a parishioner of his who had been quite recently married and about whose domestic happiness terrible stories were rife, saluted him and said: "Well, John,” says be, “how's all going on?" “Oh, happily enough!” returns John. fTm glad to hear it. You know, there were rumors of rows or—” "Rows!” says John. “Oh. yes, there are plenty of rows; whenever she sees me she catches the first thing to hand, a dish or anything, and fires it at me. If she hits me. she's happy; if she doesn't, 1 am! Oh, we're get ting on fine!” Wouldn't Wear a "Molecule.” “What are you studying now?" asked Mrs. Johnson. "We have taken up the subject of molecules,” answered her son. "I hope you will be very attentive and practice constantly,” said the mother. "I tried to get your father to wear one, but he could not keep it in his eye.” Which Way Is It Going? Little Dorothy had been looking at her uncle's bald head intently for sev eral minutes. She was evidently in such a serious study about something that her aunt asked what was the mat ter. 'Tbay ith uncle's hair cornin' in or goin' out?” was the reply. As in Europe. Knicker—1 hear you moved. Bocker—Well, we fell tack to a trench on the nest block. Not Missing. “The baby's got Maria's nose.” “Xo. it hasn't, for she’s been pok ing it into my business.” MADE THE CEREMONY BRIEF Marriage Service ai Conducted by Mis sionary Was Binding If It Was Not Lengthy. Rev. R. R. Dodge is a missionary at Maui, one of the Hawaiian group of islands. He is a most resourceful man in his dealings with his charges, as his part in the following incident serves to show: Recently a Japanese couple came to Mr. Dodge with a request in sign lan guage that he make them man and wife. They could not talk English un derstandingly, and Mr. Dodge could not talk Japanese, so he conducted the ceremony as follows: “You like this wahine?” “Yes.” "Bimeby no kickout?” “No." "You like this kane?” (To the worn an.) “Yes.” "Bimeby no kickout?” “No.” "Pule.” “Pau.” And the ceremony ended. "Wahine is Hawaiian for woman, “kane” for man, "pule” for pray, and “pau” for enough.—Kohala Midget (Maui). Johnny Made Good. In instructing a youthful class in mathematics the pretty young teach er turned to Johnny Jones. “Johnny,” she remarked, "can you tell me what an average is?” "Yes, ma'am,” was the prompt re sponse of Johnny, “an average is what a hen lays eggs on.” “What?” exclaimed the amazed teacher. "What on earth are you talking about?” “That's right, Miss Mary,” was the rejoinder of Johnny. "Most every lesson in our 'rithmetic starts off 'If a hen lays two eggs a day on am average!' ”—Philadelphia Telegraph. Telling the Time. Midnight is his nickname and al though it fits him exactly as far as his color is concerned he is not always pleased to hear someone refer to him by that name. He had been sulking in a corner ol the playground for some time the oth er day when another colored boy al most as black as himself called out “Come on over here and play Mid night.” Midnight stared at the speaker a moment and then answered scornfully, “Go 'long you black rascal, you lootk like half past eleven yourself.” A Great Musician. Two Lancashire boys were expati ating on the relative merits of their fathers as musicians. "My father is the greatest musician in the town,’’ said one. "Oh!” the other said- "When my father starts his music every man stops work.” "How's that?” said the other. “What | does he do?” "He blows the whistle for meals up at the mill.” ’ The Thinker. "She has ideas of her own.” "Indeed! What a disagreeable per son!'—Detroit Free Press. The worst thing about the self-made man is that he usually looks upon the world as his doormat. Good for Boys Camping time is a time of joy for the youngsters. Very few things are needed for a cracking good time —a tent, blankets, plain, stout clothing, and plenty of good, wholesome food. A splendid food to take along is Grape-Nuts It’s an ideal camping food — nourishing, appetizing and always ready to eat. This delicious wheat and barley food contains great nutrition with little bulk. It is made from the natural, whole grains, retaining all of their vital mineral salts, particularly neccessary for building health and strength in growing boys and girls. Grape-Nuis is ready to serve direct from the package—just add good milk or cream. Summer rains won’t hurt the supply—packages are wax-wrapped and moisture-proof. “There’s a Reason” lor Grape-Nuts —sold by Grocers everywhere.
