SfeAUCTICN BLOCK
A WVEL or MEW VORKT Lire
SffXKX EEACrt t T
'■ILLUSTRATIONS 4^ r PARKER
Author of
“The Iron Trail”
“ The Spoilers” '
“ The Silver Horde ” Etc.
CtPyright, By Harper Gf Brothers
CHAPTER XXV—Continued.
—15—
He did struggle half-heartedly
agaiust his first drink, hut after he hud
taken it and after other drinks had
gone the way of the first, he met a
number of people whom lie liked and
to whom he was inspired to show his
diking, and. strange to say. the more
lie drank the more of such friends he
discovered. By late afternoon he was
(n a fantastically jubilant mood, and.
■eizing Knrtz, he bore him across the
tray to Itelmonico’s.
•Vow, Kurtz was worldly and there
fore tolerant. He had grown to like
aud to understand his young associate
(very well Indeed, and something about
ttob's riotous disposition to gladness
awoke a response iu the little tailor.
it was that expansive and expensive
hour of the afternoon when business
•worries are dropped and before social
<-ares are shouldered. It was cocktail
.time nloug the avenue, the hour when
«prees are born and engagements tiro
hen. and as it leugtheued Wharton cele
?*ratctl it as in days gone by. His
last regret had vanished- he was hav
ing a splendid time, when a page called
him to a telephone booth.
Adoree’s voice greeted him: she was
speaking front his own home, and her
first words almost sobered him. Some
thing was wrong: Boh was needed
4|iiiekly: Lorelei was asking for him.
[For more than an hour they had been
[vainly trying to locate him. They had
succeeded in renchitig the doctor, and
lie was there—with a nurse. Adoree's
.voice broke—Lorelei was frightened
jand so was the speaker. Bob had bet
ter waste no time.
When Bob lurched out of the booth
lie was white; the noisy group he had
Heft rose in alarm at sight of his
^stricken face. His legs led him a
•■rooked course out of the cafe, bring
ing him into collision with chairs and
tables and causing him to realize for .
(the first time how far he had allowed
himself to go. In a shaking voice he
••ailed for a taxicab; meanwhile allow
ing the raw air or the street to cool i
his head.
I The terror of the unknown was upon
;him. But regrets were una.vailing.
-Something had gone wrong, and Lore- I
8ei needed him. She was calling for
him and he was drunk. He would reel
tip to her bed of pain with bleared eyes,
■with poisoned lips. How could he kiss
her? How could he explain?
The cab swung into the curb, and
he scrambled out, then stumbled blind
:!v up the steps and into the building
•where be lived.
Adoree met him at his own door. ’
Wharton's impression was vague; he j
saw little more than the tragic widen- !
Ing of the girl's eyes as she recognized 1
his condition.
“Am I ns bad as that?” ho stam
•mered. “Do you hink she'll notice it?"
. “Oh, Bob!” Adoree cried, in a strick
en voice. “How could you—at this
{time?”
• “You said she wanted me. I couldn't
(take time—”
“Yes! She has been calling for you,
(but I'm sorry I found you.”
j A silent-footed figure in a nurse's
(uniform emerged from the dining room,
jand her first expression of relief at
jeigbt of Bob changed swiftly to a stare
*>f startled wonderment. Bob was not
jtoo drunk to read the half-spoken pro
test on her lips. Then be heard his
(wife calling him. and realized that
somehow she knew of his coming. At
the sound of her voice, strangely
throaty and hoarse from pain, the
strength ran out of iiis body. The
doctor heard lilm fumbling at the bed
room door and admitted him; then a
low, aching cry of disappointment
jsounded. and Adoree Demurest bowed
'iter head upon her arms. •
When Itob groped his way back into
jthe living room his look was ghastly:
itiis face was damp; his eyes were des
iperate.
“She sent me away,” be whispered.
’ “Poor tiling!" He winced at Ado
Iree’s tone. “God! I heard her when
|slie saw you. I wonder if you real
ize—”
•'Oh, yes,” he nodded, slowly. “1
idon't get drunk all over, like most men.
I'm afraid I’ll never forget that cry.”
lie was trembling, and his terror was
*0 pitiful Unit Adoree laid a compas
sionate hand upon his shoulder.
■‘Don’t let go. Bob. Hold your
(thoughts steady and sober up. We
(must all help."
Darkness found Bob huddled In his
I chair, fighting for his senses, but as
uhe liquor died in him terrible fancies
sjcame to life. A frightened maid began
preparations for his dinner, but he
Urdered her away. Then when she
rought him a tray, anger at the
jught that his own comfort should
considered of consequence made
refuse to touch it.
length his inactivity became tin
Ible, and, feeling the desjierate
sane counsel, be telephoned
iJohn kle. Bob was too deeply ngi
ititei more than note the banker’s
-tat ; Unit Mr. and .Mrs. Hannibal
jWhi were in the city, but, recall
ling er, he experienced a stab of
iregi ft his mother was, not here to
ron lorelei in the lirst great crisis
'of I t^iantrood. It had been Lore
ant tier owa mother oe kept
|jn ignorantc 0f the truth, anu now.
itherefore, the girl had no one to lean
o;pon except an unpractical stage
,ivoman—and a drunken husband. In
iBob's mind ti^ pity of it grew as the
it; me crept on.
But Adoree tfeniorest was wonder
ful. Despite UerUuexperience. she was
P'aitu capable, sympathetic, and. best
jier norma|ity afforded a sup
!'*r ail.
i >l't upon which b*tli the husband and
,Ui<' wite could rest* When she finally
1 u*-u due Uiitlllj
ilerse!f ready '(or the street Bob
Kr‘e(t
Mteously:
,mt going to leave us?”
"“(at. it’s nearly theater-time,”
she told him. ‘'It's one of the penal
ties of tills business that nothing must
hold the curtain; but I’ll be back the
minute the show is over.
“Lorelei needs you."
Adoree nodded; her eyes met Bob's
squarely, and he saw that they were
wet. Her face was tender, and she
appeared very simple and womanly at
this moment. Her absurd theatrical
ism was gone; she was a natural, unaf
fected young woman.
"1 wish I could do something to
help," wearily continued Boti. but
! Adoree shook her head so violently that
the barbaric beaded festoon beneath
her chin clicked and rattled.
"She knows you're close by: that’s
enough. This is a poor time to preach,
lint—it seems to me if you’ve got a hit
of real manhood in you. Bob, you'll
never drink again. The shock of see
ing you like this—when she needed
you—didn't help her any.”
“I know! 1 know!" The words were
wrung from him like a groan. “But
the tiling is bigger and stronger than
I am. It takes botli of us together to
tight it. If she should—leave me. I’d
never pull through and—I wouldn't
want to."
Never until she left Lorelei's house
and turned toward the white lights of
Broadway did Adoree Demorest fully
realize whither her theatrical career
had carried her. Adoree knew herself
to he pure. But the world considered
her evil, anil evil in its eyes she would
remain. At this moment she would
gladly have changed places with that
other girl whose life hung in the scales.
John Merkle hail never lost interest
in Lorelei, nor forgotten her refusal
of his well-meant offer of assistance.
It pleased him to read into her char
acter beauties and nobilities of which
she was utterly unconscious if not ac
tually devoid. Soon after his talk with
Bob he telephoned Hannibal Wharton,
making known the situation in the
most disagreeable and biting manner
of which he was capable. Strange to
say, Wharton heard him through, then
thanked him before ringing off.
When Hannibal had repeated the
news to his wife, she moved slowly to
a window and stood there staring down
into the glittering chasm of Fifth ave
nue. Bob’s mother was a frail, erect,
impassive woman, wearied and sad
dened with the weight of her husband's
millions. There had been a time when
society knew her, but of late years
sbe saw few people, and lier uaine'was
seldom mentioned except in connection
with her benefactions. Hannibal Whar- \
ton was serenely conscious of her com- j
plete accord with his every action, and
in reporting Merkle's conversation lie
spoke musingly, as a man speaks to 1
himself.
“John loves to be caustic; he likes 1
to vocalize his dyspepsia.” the old man ;
muttered. Mrs. Wharton did not stir.;
there was something uncompromising
in the rigid lines of her back and in
her stiffly poised head. “People of her j
kind always have children,” he con- |
tinned, “and that's what I told Bob. I
told him he was laying up trouble for
himself."
“Bob had more to him than we i
thought,’’ irrelevantly murmured the
mother.
“More than we thought?” Hanni
bal shook his head. “Not more than !
I thought. I knew lie had it in him: I
you were the oue—”
“No. no! We both doubted. Perhaps i
this girl read him.”
“Sure she read him!” snorted the :
father. “She read his bank book. But ,
I fooled her.”
“I)o you remember when Bob was
bom? Tlie doctors thought—"
“Of course I remember!” her bus-;
baud broke in. “Those doctors said ;
you'd never come through it.”
“Yes; I wasn't strong.”
“But you did. 1 was with you. I !
fought for you. 1 wouldn’t let you die.
“She Sent Me Away," He Whispered.
Bcmember it?" The speaker moistened
his lips. “Why, I never forgot.”
"Bob is experiencing something like
that tonight.”
Hannibal started, then he fumbled
uncertainly for a cigar. When he had
it lighted he said, gruffly, "Well, it
made a man of me; 1 hope it'll help
Bob.”
Still staring out across the glowing
lights and the mysterious, iuky blots
that lay below her, Mrs. Wharton went
on: “You are thinking only of Bob, but
I’m thinking of her, too. She Is offer
ing her life for the life of a little child.
Just as I offered mine.’’
There was a silence, then Hannibal
looked up to find his wife standing
over him, with face strangely humble.
Her eyes were appealing, her frail fig
ure was shaking wretchedly.
“My dear!” he cried, rising.
"I can’t keep it up, Hannibal. I
can't pretend any longer. It’s Bob’s
baby and it’s ours—” Disregarding
his denial, she ran on, swiftly: "You
can’t understand, but I’m lonely. Han
nibal, terribly lonely and sad. Bob
grew up and went away, and all we
had left was money. The dollars piled
up: year by year they grew heavier
and heavier until they squeezed our
lives dry and crowded out everything.
They even crowded out our son and—
spoiled him. They made you into a
stone man: they came between me and
the people and the things I loved: they
walled me off from the world. My life
is empty—empty. I want to mother
something.”
Hannibal inquired, hoarsely: “Not
this baby, surely? Not that woman’s
child?”
“It’s Bob's baby and ours.”
He looked down at her queerly for a
moment. “The breed is rotten. If he
had married a decent girl—”
“John Mejkle says she is splendid.”
“How do you know?”
“I have talked with him. I have
learned whatever I could about her.
wherever I could, and it’s all good.
After ail. Bob loves her, and isn’t that
enough ?”
“But she doesn’t love him,” stormed
the father. “She said she didn't. She
wants his money, and she thinks she'll
ger it tms way.
"Do you think money can pay her for
what she ts enduring at this minute?
She's frightened, just as I was fright
ened when Bob was born. She's sick
and suffering. But do you think all
our dollars could buy that child from
her? Money has made us hard. Hanni
bal: let’s—be different.”
"I’m afraid we have put it off too
long,” he answered, slowly. "She
won't forgive us, and I’m not sure I
want her to.”
"Bob's in trouble. Won’t you go to
him ?”
Hannibal Wharton opened his lips,
closed them; then, taking his hat and
coat he left the room.
But as the old man went uptown
his nerve failed him. He'was fixed in
his ways, he had a blind faith in his
own infallibility. Twice he rode up
in the elevator to his son’s door, twice
he rode down again. Hannibal settled
himself to wait.
During the chill, still hours after the |
city had gone to rest an automobile j
drew up to the apartment house; when !
its expected passenger emerged from i
the building a grim-faced stranger in
a greatcoat accosted him. One glance
challenged the physician’s attention,
and he answered:
"Yes, it’s all over. A boy."
“And—Mrs. Wharton, the mother?”
“Youth is a wonderful tiling, and
stie has everything to live fcr. She is
doing as well as could be expected.
You're a relative, I presume?”
The old man hesitated, then his
voice came boldly. “Yes. I'm her fa
ther.”
When the doctor had driven away
Hannibal strode into the building and
telephoned to the Waldorf, but now his
words were short and oddly broken.
Nevertheless they brought a light of
gladness to the eyes of the woman who
had waited all these hours.
CHAPTER XXVI.
Ailoree Demorest. still in her glitter
ing. hybrid costume, but heavy-limbed
and dull with fatigue, paused outside
her owu door early that morning. The
time lacked perhaps an hour of dawn,
the street outside and the building
itself was silent, yet from Adoree's
parlor issued the sound of light lingers
upon piano keys. Adoree entered, to
find Campbell Pope, with collar loos
ened and hair on end. seated at the In
strument. The air within the room
was blue and recking with the odor
of stale tobacco smoke, and the ash
receiver at his elbow was piled high
with burnt offerings.
Pope rose at Adoree's entrance, eying
her anxiously. “Is everything all right?”
lie cried.
“Is what all right?
"The—er—Lorelie.”
"Oh, yes! What are you doing here?”
“I suppose I must apologize. You
see, I came here to wait and—and
help.”
“You decided to—help?” Adoree
eyed the disheveled musician queerly.
"You’ve helped to break my lease—
I'll he thrown out of this house sure.”
Pope stammered, guiltily. “I was
playing tor P.ob and Lorelei.”
With one glove half off, Adoree slow
ly seated herself, showing in her face
an amazement that increased the
man’s embarrassment. Pope took a
deeper breath, then burst out:
"Oh, I have a sixty-horse power
imagination, and it seems to me that
music is a sort of—prayer: anyhow, it's
the only way I know of praying. Good
music is divine language. In my own
way I was sort of praying for those
two children. Foolish, isn’t it? I’m
sorry I told you. It sounds nutty to
me when 1 stop to consider it.” Pope
stirred uneasily under Adoree's gravely
speculative eyes. "Lorelei’s all right?”
Adoree nodded. "It's a boy." There
was a moment of silence. “Did you
ever see a brand-new baby?”
"Murder, no!”
Miss Demorest’s gaze remained bent
upon Pope, but it was focused upon
great distances; her voice when she
spoke was hushed and awe-stricken.
"Neither did I until this one. I held it!
I held it in my arms. Oh—I was fright
ened. and yet I seemed to know just
what to do and—and everything. It
was strange. It hurt me terribly, for,
you see, I didn't know what babies
meant until tonight Now I know.”
Tope saw the shining eyes suddenly
fill and threaten to overflow; instead
of the grotesquely overdressed and ar
tilieial stage favorite he beheld only
a yearning woman whosp face was sof
tened and glorified as by a vision.
"I didn’t know, you cared for chil
dren.”
Adoree shrugged; the beads at her
throat clicked barbarously. "Neither
did I. but I suppose every woman does
if she only knew it. Tonight I began
to understand what this ache inside of
me means.” Tier gaze came back and
centered upon his face, but it was
frightened and panic-stricken. “I’ve
sacrificed my right to children.”
“How can you say—”
“Oh. you know it as well as I do”’
A flush wavered in the speaker’s
cheeks, then tied, leaving her white and
weary. “You, of all men, must under
stand. I’m notorious. I'm a painted
woman, a wicked woman—the wicked
est woman in the land—and that repu
tation will live in spite of anything I
can do.” She began to cry now in a
way strange to Pope's experience,
i Pope's habitual restraint all at once
gave way. “Nonsense!” he exploded.
"The thing that counts is what you
are, not what you seem to be. I know
the truth.”
Now there was nothing sufficiently
significant about these words to bring
a light of wonderment and gladness to
the girl’s face, but her tears ceased as
abruptly as they had commenced, and
noting the slowly growing radiance of
her expression, Campbell was stricken
dumb with fright at the possible conse
quences of temerity. The knowledge
of his shortcomings robbed him of con
fidence and helped to confuse him.
Adoree rose. For a moment she
stood looking at him with a peculiar,
tender smile, then took him by the
lapels of his shapeless coat and drew
his thin face down to hers.
“I’m not going to let you back out,”
she declared, firmly. “You asked me. j
didn't you?”
“Adoree! No, no’. Think wlmt you
are doing.” he cried, sharply.
But she continued to smile up into
his eyes with a gladness that intoxi
cated him.
She snuggled closer to him, murmur
ing. oozily: “I don’t want to think—
we’ll have plenty of time to think
when we’re too old to talk. Now, I just
want to love you as hard as you have
been loving me for the last six
months.”
To all young fathers there comes a
j certain readjustment of values. To
! Hob. who had always led a selfish. ]
| thoughtless existence, It was at first
bewildering to discover that his place j
at the head of his household had been
usurped by another. Heretofore he had
always been of supreme domestic im
portance. but now the order of things
was completely reversed, if not hope
lessly jumbled. First in consequence
came this new person, tiny and vastly
tyrannical because of its helplessness,
then the nurse, an awesome person—a
sort of oracle and regent combined—
who ruled in the name and stead of the
new heir. Lorelei herself occupied no
mean station in the new scheme, for at
least she shared the confidence of the
nurse and the doctor, and ranked
above the cook and the housemaid, but
not so Hob. Somewhere at the foot of
the list he found his owu true place.
Now, strange to say. this novel ar
rangement was extremely agreeable to
the deposed ruler. Hob took a shame
less delight in doing menial service:
to fetch and to carry for all hands filled
him with joy. Hut ouee outside of the
premises he reasserted himself, and his
importance grew as gas expands. He
fore long his intimate friends began to
avoid him like a plague. It was his
partner. Kurtz, who finally dubbed
him “The pestilence that talketh in
darkness and the destruction that
wasteth our noondays,”
One day. after Bob had acquired suf
ficient confidence in himself and in the
baby to handle it without anxiety to
the nurse, lie begged permission to
show it to the ballman downstairs. He
returned greatly elated, explaining
that the attendant, who had some im
possible number of babies of his own
and might therefore be considered an
authority, declared this one to be the
finest he had ever beheld. Oddly
enough, this praise delighted Hob out
of all reason. lie remained in a state
of suppressed excitement ail that day,
and on the following afternoon he
again kidnaped the child for a second
exhibition. It seemed that the infant's
fame spread rapidly, for soon the ten
ants of neighboring apartments began
to clamor for a sight of it, and Bob
was only too eager to gratify them.
Every afternoou lie took his son down
stairs with him, until finally Lorelei
checked him ns lie was going out.
•'Bob. dear,” she said, with the faint
est shadow of a smile. "1 don't think
it's good for him to go nut so often.
Why don't you ask your father and
mother to come up?”
Wharton (lushed, then he stam
mered, “I—what makes you—er—
think—”
“Why. I guessed it the very first
day.” Lorelei’s smile saddened. “They
needn't see me, you know.”
Bob laid the child back in its bed.
“But that’s just what they want. They
want to see you. only I wouldn't let
you be bothered. They're perfectly
foolish over the kid; mother cries, and
father—but just wait.” He rushed out
of the room, and in a few moments re
turned with his parents.
Hannibal Wharton was deeply em
barrassed. but his wife went straight
to Lorelei and, bending over her chair,
placed a kiss upon her lips. "There.”
said she. “When you are stronger I’m
going to apologize for the way we’ve
treated you. We’re old people. We're
selfish and suspicious and unreason
able. but we're not entirely ink unfan.
You won’t ^be too hard on us. will
you?”
The old lady’s eyes were shining. the
palms whic-li were clasped over I.ore
loi's hand were hot aud tremulous. The
look of hungry yearning that greeted
the elder woman's words was ample
answer, and with a little choking cry
she gathered the weak figure into her
arms and thrilled as she felt the amber
head upon her breast.
Hannibal trumpeted into i.-s hand
kerchief. then cleared his tti'oat pre
mouitorily. hut Itoh forest„i led him
with a happy laugh. “Dou\. hold any
post-mortems, dad. Lorelei knows
everything you intend to say.”
■’I'm Mamed if she does.” rumbled
the old man. “because I don’t know
myself. I'm not much on apologies: 1
can take 'em, lint I can’t make 'em.”
His voice rose sternly: “Young lady,
the night that baby was born I stood
outside this house for hours because I
was afraid to come in. And my feet
hurt like the devil, too. 1 wouldn't
lose that much sleep for the whole steel
trust: hut I didn't dare go hack to the
hotel, for mother was waiting, and t
was afraid of tier. too. I don't intend
to go through another i.ight like that."
Bob’s mother turned to her sou. say
ing: "Site is beautiful, and she is
good, too. Anybody can see that. We
eoulil love her for what she has done
for you. if for nothing else.”
“Well. 1 should say so,” proudly
vaunted the son. “She took n chance
when she didn't care for me. and she
made me into a regular fellow. Why.
she reformed me from the ground up.
I’ve sworn off every Messed thing 1
used to do.”
"Including drinking?" gruffly queried
tlie father.
“Yes.”
Lorelei smiled her slow, reluctant
smile at the visitors, ami her voice was
gentle as she said: “He thinks he has.
but it’s hard to stop entirely, and you |
mustn't blame him if lie forgets him- .
self occasionally. You see, drinking is j
mostly a matter of temperament, after
all. But he is doing splendidly, and I
some day perhaps—"
They nodded understandingly.
“You'll try to like us. won't you. for
Boll's sake?” pleaded the old lady,
timidly.
“I intend to love you both very dear
ly.'’ shyly returned the girl. and. noting
the light in Lorelei's face. Bob Whar
ton was satisfied.
Restraint vanished swiftly under the
old couple’s evident determination to
make amends, but after they had gone
Lorelei became so pensive that Bob
1 said, anxiously, “I hope you weren't
j polite to them merely for my sake.”
Lorelei shook her head. "No. I was
only thinking— Do you realize that
none of my own people have been to
see me? That I haven’t had a single
word from any of them?’’
Bob stirred uncomfortably: he start
ed to speak, then cheeked himself as
she went on, not without some effort:
"I’m going to say something unpleas
ant, but 1 think you ought to know it.
When they learn that your parents
have taken me in and made up with us j
they’re going to ask me for money. It's I
a terrible thing to say. but it's true.”
“Do you want to see them? Do you j
want them to see the baby?”
“N-uo:" Lorelei was pale as she
made answer. "Not after all that has
passed.”
Bob heaved a grateful sigh. “I’m
glad. They won't trouble you any
l. . re.”
"Why? What—"
“I've been waiting until you were I
strong to tell you. I've noticed how i
their silence hurt you. but—it's my
fault that they haven't been here. I
sent them away.”
“Y'ou sent them away?”
“Yes. i fixed them with money and j
—they're happy at last. There's consul- i
erable to tell. .Tim got into trouble i
with the police and finally sent for me. I
He told me everything and—it wasn't
pretty: I'd rather not repeat all he said,
but it opened my eyes and showed me
why they brought you here, how they
put you on the auction block, and how
they cried for bids. He told me things
you know nothing about and could
never guess. When be bad finished I
thanked God that they had Hung you
into my arms instead of—some other
man's. It's a miracle that you weren’t
sacrificed utterly.”
"Where is Jim now?”
"Somewhere in the boundless West. ]
He gave me bis promise to reform.” i
"He never will." ,
“Of course not. and I don't expect it ,
of him. You see. I know how hard it i
is to reform.” \
“Bnf mother and father?”
"I’m coming to tliem. My dart came
around the day after our baby was
born and shook hands. He wanted to
stamp right in here and tell you what
a fool lie had made of himself, but I
wouldn't stand for it. Finally, when
he saw the kid. he blew up entirely,
and right away proposed breaking
ground for a jasper palace for the
youngster. He wanted to build it in
Pittsburgh where lie could run in. go
ing to and from business. Mother was
just as foolish, too. Well, when I had
had my little understanding with Jim
and learned the whole truth about your j
people I realized that no matter where j
we went they would be a constant
menace to our happiness unless they
were provided for. It struck me that
you had made a game tight for happi
ness. and I couldn't stand for any
thing to spoil it at the last minute. I
went to mother and told her the facts,
and she seemed to understand as well
as 1 how you must feel in spite of all
they had done, so we shook down the
governor for an endowment.”
“Bob! What do you mean?” Lorelei
faltered in bewilderment.
"We asked him for a hundred thou
sand dollars and got it.”
Lorelei gasped.
“He -tellowed like a bull, he spat
poison like a cobra, lie writhed like a
bucket of eels, but we put it over.”
“A hundred thousand dollars!” whis
pered the wife.
“To a penny. And it's in the bank to
your credit. But I didn’t stop there.”
Bob’s voice hardened. “I went to your
"You Won't Be Too Hard on Us, Will
You?’*
mother anti in your name I promised
Iter the' income from it so long, and
only so long, as she and Peter stayed
away from you. She accepted—rather
greedily. I thought—aud they have
gone back to- Vale. They have your ;
aid house, and I have their promise j
never to see you except upon your invi- |
Nation. Of course you can go to them j
whenever you ‘ wish, but—they're
happy, and I think we will be happier
with them in Vale than in New Y$rk.
1 hope you don't object to my arrange
ment.”
There was a long silence, then Lore
lei sighed. “You are a very good man,
Bob. It was my dream to do some
thing of this sort, but I could never j
nave done it so well.”
Her husband bent and kissed her
tenderly. “It wasn’t all my doings; I
had'' help. And you mustn’t feel sad.
'or something tells me you're going to
earn finally the meaning of a real
mother’s love.”
“Yes—yes!” The answer came
ireamily, then as a fretful complaint
ssued from the crib at her side Lore
ei leaned forward and swiftly gath
ered tile baby into her arms.
"Is he sick?” Bob questioned, in
ilarm.
“No. silly. He's only hungry.”
There in the gathering dusk Bob
[Vharton looked on at a sight that
lever failed to thrill him strangely. In
lis wife's face was a beautiful con
ent. and it seemed to him fitting iu
leed that this country girl who had
•ome to the city in quest of life should
md her search thus, with a baby at
ler breast.
(THE END.)
SMOKERS IN DICKENS’ WORKS
Great Novelist Had Many of His Char
acters Use Tobacco in One
Form or Another.
The “cigarettes" mentioned by Dick
ens In 1857 were "brown paper cigars.”
an informant writes to the London
Chronicle, and were evidently roiled by
band in the fashion not unknown to
day, though rapidly being superseded
by the machine-made article.
In the first chapter of “Little Dor
rit," written in 1 8r>7'. the villain Klgund
in his jail at Marseilles itas tobacco
brought to him with his rations and he
rolls it “into cigarettes by the aid of
little squares of paper which bad been
brought in with it.” The fccene. by the
way. is dated by Dickens “thirty years
ago.” Whether the paper was white or
brown does not appear, but it seems
clear enough that the smokes in ques
tion, thus rolled in a prison cell, had
more likeness to the modern cigarette
than to a cigar, although the novelist
sometimes calls them little paper
cigars.
“Little Dorrit,” I think, adds the cor
respondent, is the iirst of the novels in
which the word “cigarette” appears,
although pipes and cigars are frequent
ly mentioned, usually in the mouths of
the morally less admirable characters.
Montague Tigg and Chevy Slyme both
move in an atmosphere in whicli tobac
co is added to frowsiness. Itogue
Riderhood’s rascality is heightened by
his use of a pipe, and the depth of
Quilp's inhumanity Is emphasized by
his abilities in the way of what is now
called “chain smoking” with cigars,
while he swallows boiling rum from a
pannikin kept on the fire. Eugene
Wrayburn’s languid idleness Is solaced
by cigars, but correct characters, such
us John Hariuon, never touch what
Tony Weller calls "the llngrunt weed.”
Irish Soldier Gave Warning.
A new story of the British encoun
ter with the Prussian Guards is told
by a corporal of a Warwickshire regi
ment who is wounded and at home in
England.
"The night the Prussian Guards at
tacked us around Vpres," he says, “it
was only by chance and heroism that
we were warned in time. An Irishman
of the King's Giver]too! regiment had
gone out of tiie bounds to meet a
Stir!, i ’timing home late be stumbled on
tin* Germans stealing quietly toward
our position.
"Without a thought of eonseqlienees
to himself lie dashed toward our
guard to give the alarm. The Germans
shot him in both legs, but he "ot
through with the warning.-'
Soils and Wheat.
I la- Inlluence ol different s .t;s
tie- composition of wheat is the sub
jeet of an investigation undertaken by
tiie i'nited Stales bureau of ebemis.
try. The effects of several kinds of
soil will lit- tested under identical at
mospheric conditions. The program
contemplates transporting to the Ar
lington experimental farm 1-320 of an
acre of soil, three feet deep, consist
ing of about Hi tons each of sandy
clay, marl, muck and a good agricul
tural soil, and in each of these plant
the same klud of seed, will he grown.
When a Woman Bears Twins.
When a woman becomes the moth
er of twins, it makes no difference ir 1
she is ns poor as Job’s turkey she will I
regard herself as of the same import- |
ance ns the empress of India, ami In
the exes of God she is. -Uoustcu post
HUSBAND OBJECTS
TO OPERATION
_—-—
Wife Cured by Lydia Ei
Pinkham’s Vegetable
Compound
lJ
Den Moines, Iowa.—"Fouryears ago
I I was very sick and my life was nearly
-.spent, meaocujra
stated that I would
never get well with
out an operation
and that without it
I would not live one
year. My husband
objected to any
operation and got
I me some of Lydia E.
Pink ham’s Vegeta
ble Compound. I took
it and commenced
to get better and am now well, am
stout and able to do my own housework.
I can recommend the Vegetable Com
pound to any woman who is sick and
run down as a wonderful strength and
health restorer.*- My hosband says I
would have been in my grave ere this
if it had not been for your Vegetable
Compound."—Mrs. Blanche Jeffer
son, 703 Lyon St, Des Moines, Iowa.
Before submitting to a surgical opera
tion it is wise to try to build up the
female system and cure its derange
ments with Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vege
table Compound; it has saved many
Women from surgical operations.
Write to the Lydia E. Pinkham
Medicine Co.* Lynn* Mass.* for
advice—it will be confidential.
Make the Liver
Do its Duty
Nine times in ten when the liver is
right the stomach and bowels are right
CARTER’S LITTLE
LIVER PILLS
gently butfirmly comj
pel a lazy liver
do its duty.
Cures Con
stipation, In
digestion,
Sick
Headache,4
and Distress After Eating.
SMALL PILL, SMALL DOSE. SMALL PRICE,
Genuine must bear Signature
WIFE IN PATHETIC PLAINT
Evidently Good Lady Was Not a
Strong Believer in the Principle
of Reciprocity.
"Oh, George,” said Mrs. Bridge, “on
your way downtown this morning will
you stop at the grocer’s and order two
pounds of butter and a half pound of
tea and some crackers?”
“Yes, my dear.”
“And would yob mind leaving my
skirt at the tailor’s as you go by?"
“Yes, my dear.”
“And then go to the milkman’s and
tell him to leave an extra pint of
cream to-morrow?”
“Yes, my clear.”
“And when you get to your office
will you call up my sister and tell her
I’ll he over Tuesday. They don’t
charge you for calls there.”
“Yes, my dear, and say, wifie, would
yon mind sewing up this little rip in
my coat before I start?"
"Good land, aren’t yon men terrible!
You’re always wanting' something
done."—Exchange.
Suspicious.
“When Bill Simmons goes to church,
they always pass the contribution
plate to him before anyone else.”
“Why is that? Is he such a gener
ous giver?”
“Not he. By passing it to him first,
they don’t stand a chance of losing
anything but the empty plate.”
Why That Lame Back ?
Morning lameness, sharp twinges
when bending, or an all-day back
ache; each is cause enough to sus
pect kidney trouble. Get after the
cause. Help the kidneys. We
Americans go It too hard. * We
overdo, overeat and neglect our
sleep and exercise and so we are
fast becoming a nation of kidney
sufferers. 72% more deaths than
in 1890 is the 1910 census story.
Use Doan’s Kidney Pills. Thou
sands recommend them.
r An Iowa Case
Frank J. Rooney,
grocer. 153 Julien Ave.,
Dubuque, Iowa, says:
“I had rheumatic
pains in my left hip,
often extending into
my shoulder. I feit
nervous and had little
ambition. I knew my
kidneys weren’t acting
properly and I began
HJ}"* loan's Kidney
Pills. They soon cured
me and toned up my
system. I am elad to
nent" CUro has been perma
_C«CW, a, Any Store, 50c a
DOAN’S VKIV
FOSTER-MILBURN CO, BUFFALO. N. Y.
you want to buy cattle
you want to sell cattle
IF
TnV The
■ 1 Washtenaw System
of Buying and Selling Cattle.
Our commission — one half
cent on every dollar paid for
cattle bought or sold thru us
write "“.isai.tjarw
fiZSi p°pham-s
ASTHMA MEDICINE!
WUJAMS MFB. CO., Prop*. Clare land, 0.1
APPENDICITIS
gssaaawggiggg m*
N. U., OMAHA, NO. 40-1916.