TIIK Hr'.K ! OMAHA. SI' Nil AY, JANUARY 22. 1922.
R M
JACK
AND
JILL
M Oi link nrxt week, confided
Jill-gul to Jack, a they luxuriated
m ih litHiitf room tne rvniinu,
"V hl nuket you lliiuk thai? I'm
Iways lurky 1 luve such on-tler-w.le,
honry."
"You're swer 1 at bonbons, Hg boy.
But O.ii U rrHy itoing to be a von.
(terful, (real bonanza u( ome tort!"
"Bonanza, or banana, dm Lie
dear they're both urlcome. I like
'era all. Where did you get tliii new
hunch? It it that Ijinom frmininc
iniuiiion we rri about in the
novels and never see in real life?"
lie Inquired wiili a chuckle,
"No, dear. I went to the gipie
ilown at the Tillage today, itli Clara
(iraydon. and e had otir palm
read. The old woman was marvel
en r
"Huhl Fortune told? My good
ne, what suprrstiiion! Girls are the
lunniett thing-,!"
Jack u reading mime suull
pamphlet and dropped his eyei to
the type again as lie made this
l'arthian thot.
"You're a 'mean thine Of enune.
one 4n't believe all they say, but
these old gipsies do have some
Stransre power, dear."
vv hat else did she tell , you,
he said I was going on a long
iey, insiric ot another few
. and that I would he ac.
panied by a dark, handsome
ack preened his feathers a bit at
Well, t.he saw jour wedding
g, and that you are very voune
id that you re a blonde, and it's
iiiiinjr vacation time, and she
.uesscU that your husband was
f Jill looked up demurely.
run you auimt it wait nunci
reading to say 'handsome?'" she
aked, dimpling.- "Or was she
wrong there, too?"
"Oh, tihuclcs," said Jack, with
superiority. "I'm not a prize beauty.
l!ut what else did she tell you?"
"She said next week would be a
Kir,ii mug 10 invest 111 mocks ana
that you would make your fortune
if you invested in oil securities."
"Well, that is the limit!" declared
Jack. "If she knows so much
about them why doesn't she invest
the money she makes fortune-tell-ing,
and then she wouldn't have to
ride around in a dirty dd wagon
and tell fortunes."
"I don't care what you. say, I be
lieve we will have luck anyway, so
there!" ' ,
, Then Jill devoted herself to her
sewing, while Jack continued read
ing his pamphlet and jotting down
names on slips of paper until bed
time.
Next afternoon when he came
come Jill greeted him with a suspi
cious glint in her eye.
"What's this funny pamphlet,
dear?" she asked him. "It's what
you were reading last night. I found
it. all marked up with a pencil, in
the pocket of your dressing gown."
Jack reddened and. looked a, .bit
unhappy. . " v
J "That's just a 'dope sheet-for the
"ponies.' " ' ,. " '
"What on earth do you mean by
that? Something ' to do with
opium?"
"Worse than that! It. cost me
$20 today!" f
"Why, Jack, I doif't Understand."
"Well, one of the fellows bought
it yesterday and let me have it. It's
a list of winners, as predicted by a
race expert, and I followed his ad
vise today and not a single horse
he named won!" ,
Jill pursed her lips and shook her
head.
"You wicked man. Gambling!
And . . Jack, do you mean to say
that you were superstitious enough
to follow some gambler's advice with
real money?"
"Well, Jim Harkins said he'd won
$200 doinjr it this last week."
"Dear, I thought you were a busi
ness man and didn't believe in for
tune tellers. If this gambler knew so
much why didn't he save the cost of
printing this booklet and bet on the
horses himself and become rich
the way you suggested for the old
gipsy."
Jack scowled and then laughed in
embarrassment.
"I guess you're right, honey. You
should have paid that old woman a
little bit more for she put the gipsy
curse on your dark handsome hus
band this week. I wonder what will
happen next week?"
"You're going to be lucky for I'll
tear up any more of these race
charts and just think of the money
you'll save!"
Have You a Cold? Listen
. to the Advice of Sir James
London, Jan. 21. "When you
sniff, always smile, and always smile
whether you are sniffling or net," said
Sir James Dundas-Grant, nose and
throat specialist, at the Y. M. C. A.
Other points of advice were:
Never scratch your ears.
Don't use nasal douches too often.
Gargle" the throat as often as you
like.
Cough as silently and as little as
possible. . ,
Keep away from cold when the
. throat is sore.
"When you're a cold in your head,"
added Sir James, "stand in hot water
and sponge with cold water."
Cleveland Woman Will
Enter Race for Senator
Cleveland, Jan., 21. The first
Ohio woman to come forward as
candidate for election as United
States senator is Mrs. Virginia Dar
lington Green, senior member of the
Cleveland board of education, who
has announced her candidacy.
Mrs. Green will run as an inde
pendent, with no party affiliation
fid will conduct her own campaign.
Body of Chinaman Will (
Be Taken to Native Land
Pocatello, Idaho, Jan. 21. Funeral
services for Hong Kee, the pioneer
Chinese business man of Pocatel'o,
were conducted from the Presby
terian church, with Rev. R. J. Phipps
presiding. The body lay in state
until Monday, when it was taken to
San Francisco. It will be taken to
Hoackong, China, for burial
TWENTY-FOUR LESSONS IN PIANO PLAYING ELEVENTH LESSON: B MAJOR
H.floW.'a Mine M M l i lt It It )
M't) right. I .'i, by tk-uit Unite,
(M'runiun, I'm.)
Lesson No. 11
Th key of 0 Major l rtva lir, a tml
fin number, but wUH thia chart u tan lrn
the rhythmic i timl a mHy you did tin of
ih key of C, wbu h has neUlwr hrp nur rum,
I'rtuti i hi lr! yu iur furm aiiuiti.ittMtetua
19 melodies In Ih" key of H Mjf,
INUTHt'iTlnN ffc.t Ilia churl niHr the
l)turii Vf j,i4nu ,f org-Aft h that Ota small
leit?r U with it dli ! ii, at tha twitum tt
Hi chart, u dire, ity ever ih key l on the ky
board. Tin wliila and bhh'k ice will then
tm rpund I" the wtnln and blok ka, Kib
of th three tiohsuttul aeth-a of letirra rrprt
iits a ileitd, ISrisiiiiiiji wall ih ut'T row.
play the white lter wiclt the Ml hand and
I'Uy the three bUtk li-(tvi wltti the rant hand,
uakiim ih ftt ihord. Thm, in tin Mm way,
( lay lit itutra tn4iiai4 In th ton4 hrnonul
ri, then IIiimmi In ih ihlrj and t' k to th
nrt, fortiitns a eoiiiplinent cf rhordi In tha
ky of II Major,
If )ou will play DM chord over and ovrr
until uu know It porlecily, remuibrln tha
Ittttrrii aa well aa h kf, ,'ou ahould bat no
ttuhVuliy In playinf aimpla aifompanlinvma to
Kun anna in the key of H, 'i!(in and prar.
tic lombinrd will bring wonderful rulta In
any endeavor and thr two qualttita ar Ih
firm foundation In the mmiery of a mualcal
4u-tion.
The amua to tha ay underatanding of
iiiA4glatin from on key to another t opened,
and the t i rn.-u It ! mora anally aurmounted by
tha knowledge obtained throufh tha aid of
Urova'a eaay lioma ieMona,
Kvery ii-aiher and advaord acholar In
namii! know, or altould know, that modulation
rannot b understood without thrut,tl knowh
hI of rhnrde, their Inversion and nude, with
their poaitlon.
Every triad in bU' k btter I loaiked I. 3. i.
AUye read It o, 110 nutter in what tertital
order tha not' may be written. Note that tha
iiil letter 1 with a dth above It mut not
ba pUved,
NKXT LKHON' Q fhaip Minor, ahull i
Ih relativa of B niajor.
unytiid Key of RRvPhflrps or Seven 0)5.0 M I
i;iLiL('.fifii I ill I pi I p nil h M
m lDrllinnninanr
THE FULFILLER
By CHARLES SAXBY
(Continued front rie Oee.)
Up the slope the ponies were quiet
again and, the only sound between
their sentences was that drip-drip o'
the moisture distilling in the alchemy
of the oaks. An eerie place, and il
struck again into Maynard's veins
with a slight chill. In all this amo-
I housness himself and the rock on
which he sat seemed the only solidi
ties; even the other man might- have
been but a wraith.
"It certainly poultices one," h;
f.grced, delighted once more that
they should so comprehend each
other.
"And after all, we know so little
of what may lie within us to bt
poulticed out," the other went on.
"All we know is that those two got
what they claim to have asked."
"Asked of what " demanded Mayn
i.rd swiftly, and there was a silent in
terval, as if pondering, before the
other replied.
Who knows? As you said :t
poultices one. Perhaps of an im
pginaton of some principle of ful
fillment that may lie within each oi
us. We think that we know so much.
hut m reality we do not even kno-v
how we fulfill our most ordinary
desires."
"Our dc.'i:s," the stranger went
on, his voice coming somberly
through a fresh access of vapor.
"those thorny crowns of our youth;
those pursuing hounds of thai
heaven which is said to lie within us
s-.11. And most of us seem content
with lapdogs."
"We take what we can get,"
Maynard interjected, almost with a
feeling, of .self-defense.
"Exactly," came the cool, response
"But this legend of the Giver or the
Fulfiller, one meets it in so many
lands, told in so many tongues; but
one never meets any mention of one
who asked it for anything really
worth having. The stories always
end in a tragedy of their own meager-'
r.ess."
'"They ask for what they want."
"For what they want! Elias Tol
ley, Tetcr Gurney; offered whatso
ever they ask, even to freedom itself
and the one demands his mother's
rent, the other a girl, for the beating
of whom he - was sent to jail last
month."
There was a touch of scorn in the
tencs that came through the mist, as
if the speaker were wearied of little
ness. From off amongst the oaks
the hoot of an owl followed it like
an echo of derision. Maynard had
an uncomfortable impression that1
that scorn, that echoing jeer from
the place itself, were somehow di
rected at him.
"They asked for what they be
lieved in," he argued, still vaguely
on the defensive. "There are few
6urer tests of a man's faith than to
offer him whatever he may ask.
After all how do we know that we
would do any better ourselves?"
"Just for instance, now; what
would you ask for if you met this
mysterious stranger?", the other
laughed, and Maynard, to his sur
rise, found the answer rushing to his
lips.
"For the Tolley chair."
It bad come out apparently with
out his own volition, and following
it came a laugh, at his own expense,
that startled him by its harshness.
"You see, we are all of little faith,"
he grated. "But then, that chair, to
me, would be the gateway to so
much, much more."
"Ah, yes to so much, much
more."
Maynard could not be sure if it
were really the other who spoke, or
if those words were just the echo of
his own, thrown back to him by the
increasing mist. Whichever it had
been, there was withdrawal in them,
and finality as well, as though this
young stranger were completely
through with him, , almost already
gone, in fact, without the formality
of a physical departure.
He sprang to his feet with a shout.
"Here wait for me don't go and
leave me here."
So strong had been the impression
of crying to empty air that it was
with relief that he heard an answer
coming amusedly back.
"I'm still here, the mist hid me
for a moment, that was all. If you
wait a while longer it will clear and
you can find your way back as easily
as you came."
"But can't I go with you?" May
nard asked, loath to be left alone.
"Wait a little while and you will
find it all right. I go a way that
you could not follow. Goodby."
"Au revoir," Maynard called, and
the laugh of farewell that rang back
told him that the other was already
on his way.
Those poultices of-night and cir
cumstance were playing strange
tricks on Maynard. For a moment
as he stood there, listening to those
footsteps retreating in the same sur
prising sureness with which they
had come, he had a sensation of be
ing suddenly enormous. Enormous
almost to infinitude, he seemed, and
those irrevocably retreating foot
steps might have been going down
into unsuspecting depths within
himself.
But such things would not do. and
he huddled over the fire, striving
again for that "grip on himself as
he wondered what collegiate Kork
ledgc would say if it knew the
things that its official guardian of
the arts was capable of feeling. As
he warmed his cold hands there
came a comforting scnc of ordinari
ness, together with a touch of anger
at this cool young denizen of the
moor, who left a stranger in such a
predicament.
A rather theatric young man. with
his entrances, his exits, and his
metaphysics. The most hopeful
thing about him had been his
prophecy of clearing weather.
Whoever he might be, the fellow
was at least acquainted with the im
ports of those fickle skies. It was
but a dew mist, after all; a blanket
which the moor . pulled over itself
against the first chill of night. As
earth and air equalized their tem
perature there came rents in that
luminous opaqueness all about.
Glimpses of more distant oaks, in
terminable aisles shot through with
the mystery of the moon. Like dow.i
dropping veils, the mist wreathed
from the branches, sinking away in
to the holes between the rocks.
Stamping out the remnants of his
fire, Maynard started back on his un
safe way.
It was with relief that he at last
left the heather, feeling his feet once
more upon the narrow confines of
the lane to Hanger-Down. A will-o'-the-wisp
of a light bobbed at the
gate, and as he came abreast of it
he saw it was a lantern carried by
Elias Tolley.
"I was awaiting for you to come
back along," the boy babbled, loom
ing above the yellow light in gro
tesque eagerness. ''Did you see un?"
"I met a gentleman," Maynard
smiled.
"Just like me, he looks," Elias
pursued.
And -Maynard, with amused cha
grin, realized that he, too, must
answer on that single point of agree
ment of all those who had been be
nighted in the wood.
"It cannot have been the same
one, then; the man I met looked
pretty much like myself."
Maynard slept late the next morn
ing; so late that in Mrs. Stook's
demeanor as she brought his break
fast there lurked a certain adamant
of censure.
"Perhaps you will parding it's not
being quite as good as might be,
sir," she said, with elaborate civility,
"seeing how it's stood."
It was with indefinable depression
that Maynard sat down at the table,
irritated that on this, his last day
there, Dartmoor should turn a frown
ing face. The witcheries of the night
had fled and the moor was grimly
material under a smother of gray
rain.
Yet there was a sense of stir upon
the road outside as, one after an
other. the farm carts went by in the
direction of Princestown. Stolidly
padding as they went, their drivers
bent against the storm, and Maynard
remembered that this was the day of
rent paying to that overshadowing
duchy.
Catching his glance, Mrs. Stook
answered it with an almost uncanny
intuition.
"Mrs. Tolley is late today, sir. But
then, well she might be, poor soul,
seeing that notorious rain and that
she has to traipse it on her own two
feet."
So they had been watching for
Mrs. Tolley to pass on that . road
without. Probably the whole moor
was watching, in that hidden sense
of the dramatic of which the young
stranger had spoken. Maynard could
visualize the throng about the inn,
taciturn amongst their steaming po
nies, speaking stolidly of other things
while their eyes strained furtively
down the road for a sight of that
solitary woman.
"Aye, good and late, se is," Mrs.
Stook nodded, not without a certain
relish. "Most usual it's she as is the
first, but today"
Her pause had the effect of drama,
too, reminding him of the things she
was not saying; that, to the whole,
watching Moor, today was to be
"the test" for Mrs. Tolley's mysteri
ous rent. .
And la?t night against this dreary
smother of the rain-swept road, last
night seemed irretrievably gone, al
most to be ashamed of under the
light of day. That spectral wood,
with its mysteries of mist, was wiped
out. Even though he walked to it
he would find nothing but a few
acres of rocks and dripping oaks,
stark under the weeping skies. He
had an uncomfortable conviction of
having made an ass of himself in his
conversation with that stranger.
There were so many other things he
ni'ght have said; his brain filled with
J them, scintillating sentences all
marked with the dismal sign oi the
unuttcred and too late.
The confines of the room irked
him; better the driving wet outside,
if only to escape the mane stare of
those purple china spaniels on the
mantel. Except the road, all sense
of direction was wiped out, the Tors
all bidden in the gray wrack that
permitted only a narrow circle of
vision. I'riucc&town. with its rent
day throng, repelled him, so perforce
he turned downhill towards the Vale
of Dart.
Dart Bridge, its elm trees looming
through the obscuring rain; beyond
them, the iane to Hanger-Down.
Why he turned into it Maynard
could hardly say; it was certainly in
no intention of renewing bis attack
upon the Tolley chair. That also
seemed to be gone; like all the time
he had spent here on the Moor,
swallowed up by that swift pursuit
of the past which devours each
moment almost before one can grasp
at it. It was more a certain inertia,
the push of an idea that had be
come almost a habit, which pro
pelled him to the door of the farm.
Rain lashed, crouched against the
lee of the down, the place looked
more hopeless than' ever, and he
wondered -that any could be found
willing to wrest a living from those
fields. That was the pride of these
moorland people, he knew; that des
perate clinging to 'the position of
landholder, lacking which they must
sink to the ignominy of service to
others.
His rap on the door echoed back
to him with almost ridiculousness;
even if Mrs. Tol!ey were within,
how would he explain his coming
here again when he could not ex
plain it even to him'self. The ex
traordinary circles of life and their
unseen connections. Elsie Ltthrop,
the Benbrook gallery, Mrs. Ira and
himself, 7,000 miles away, knocking
on the door of this isolated Dart
moor cottage.
It was Elias who opened to him,
the sterile childishness of his face
underlaid by a glow of excitement,
which faded at sight of Maynard.
"Eh, it's you. Us thought as 't
was Squire Bragdon come down from
Princestown." Then the glow
mounted again in recovered con
fidence. "But he'll come, you'll seo.
In little while he'll be a-grummaging
down so fast as un's mare can trot.
Come you in.
It was the same room in which
Maynard had first seen the Tolley
chair, even as he saw it now, lording
it over the threadbare neatness of its
surroundings. The sight of it awoke
again in him the desire to carry it
off and enshrine it in some more
worthy place. Then, as he looked at
the woman, even the chair faded, for
it was she who was the real pres
ence. As she sat there, black clad,
bleakly immobile, she was like some
priestess at a temple which, its altars
already , flickering to extinction,
waited mutely for the touch of the
vandal. For her that touch had al
ready come, he felt; she was merely
as .a mourner who waits the removal
of the body. He could imagine her
and Elias, with their meager baggage
piled on a neighbor's cart, passing
dispossessed out into the rain, the
poignancy of their going slimed by
the grin of that tragedy of pigs.
Yet he realized, too, something of
what that young stranger had meant
when he spoke of the moor people's
sense of the art of a situation. The
barrenness of it made this drama of
the Tolleys a perfect thing, rooted
in soil and tradition old as that age
less moor and the centurie,s of the
crown. He had been viewing it from
his own angle of the chair, but he
saw now that to these people of the
waste the crux of it was that quar
terly miracle of the Tolley rent, with
its suggestion , of something older
even than the soil, more potent than
the crown itself. A' false touch would
have marred the classic sever
ity of its outlines; even death would
have been too final, for the harrow
of this was the going on.
It was Elias who saved the mo
ment from becoming intolerable;
gazing out through the rain drenched
panes, he gave a cry of triumph.
"I told you so it's him. I'd swear
to Squire Bragdon's mare if 't was
so dark as the Pit 'isself. Now us'll
see."
The rattle of wheels down the
lane, a splash of hoofs in its pools;
the feeling of an overbearing per
sonality about to descend on them,
a grating voice with a sort of jovhl
snarl in it
"Hah so that's you, Elias, is it?
What's all this hev? Mrs. Tolley
not got her rent what?"
There was no change in the
woman. Looking at her carven calm,
Maynard dimly saw the high gods at
whose altars she had so long been
servitor. The grim lords of Poverty,
Anxictv, and inexorable Decay, the
only flame of appeasement left on
their shrine being that unavailing
witch fire of Elias' optimism. It
was almost a relief when the agent
bi'stlcd in, shedding bis overcoat, the
I lump flortdness of his face height
ened by a varnish of rain.
"What this, Mrs. Tolley?" ht
railed at her, in a savage humor.
"Your black magic hocus-pocus gone
back on you hey? Two hundred
years ago and you'd have been
burned as a witch. What d'ye mean
by bringing m all this way? Why
weren't you at Princestown?"
As he listened Maynard half for
gave, seeing that the man was secret
ly ill at ease, blustering against
those superstitions which his posi
tion forbade him to recognize, but
none the less ingrained in him by a
lifetime of the Moor. Looking at
the three figures against the back
ground of that room, he wondered
again how he himself came to be
there. Bragdon, like a high-colored
print of the conventional, fox-hunting
squire, bellowing himself to a
conviction of his proper estate;
Elias, with a pallor almost luminous
in its expectancy, as though he look
ed for a shower xl fairy gold from
the cracked ceiling; Mrs. Tolley
as the woman rose Maynard almost
shrank from the desolation of her
face.
"There is nothing in the lease that
compels us to come to Princestown,
Mr. Bragdon," she was saying. "It
reads that the rent shall be paid each
quarter day, upon demand. It ha3
not been demanded of me yet."
"What's this, a female lawyer a
woman Daniel in judgment, what?"
Bragdon bullied back. "Not demand
hey? Well, I demand it. Have
you got it? Tell me that, woman."
"One moment," she said.
Maynard never forgot the coldness
of the fingers that closed about his
wrist, nor the sights and smells of
the little hallway into which they
drew him. The drpe and lash of
the rain outside, the chill drafts, the
odor of boiling cabbage, mingling
with the pervading scent of drenched
heather and peat.
"Mrs. Tolley" he began, fum
bling in his pockets, but she stayed
him with a gesture, her speech com
ing with the grating clearness of a
stream of bitter waters over a bed
of stones.
"You spoke about the chair. Mr.
Maynard. If you are still willing
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APPLY SAGE TEA
Look Young! Bring Back Its
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Common garden sage brewed into
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While wispy, gray, faded hair is
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and can make a small payment now
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It was more than a pound of flesh
those grim lords of her life were de
manding of her. It was her very
hope itself, not for herself, but for
the one to whom her life was given.
The last token of Elias' descent in
a confusion of tongues within him
Maynard found himself wondering
how much of this might be the out
come of Elias' babble of the evening
before and that extraordinary inter
view in the wood.
There came to him an unavailing
regret as he remembered his out
burst of demand for possession of
the chair. He could almost hear it
now, breaking out into that fire-red-cned
circle, of mist with a certain ir
revocablene'ss. It came upon him
with added dismay that, in all their
conversation together, that young
stranger had told him nothing that
he had not already known.
"But I cannot pay you half of
what the chair is worth." he heard
himself saying to the woman, aware
that it was his own pride of con
science which was nov speaking.
"Twenty pounds is my limit, and you
could sell it for much more."
He had an extraordinary distaste
at seeming to advantage himself by
the necessities of this woman. He
would lie across the chair, even
though it stood gloriously in the
Benbrook memorial. He felt that
shadow falling, like a sort of slime,
athwart the path to Elsie Lathrop,
the path that, above all, he would
tread with feet unstained. It was
such a meager tragedy, after all, so
unworthy of the forces he seemed
to sense looming behind it. A chair,
a thing of wood only, and yet to this
woman it was the symbol of all that
she had ever hoped. i
"Meanwhile, as a loan here's a
bank note for 10," he went rapidly
on. "O, never mind the loan," he
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burst out in a recklessness of self
diigust. "For heaven's sake, take it."
It was almost hatred which looked
at him out of the woman's eyn, the
last flare of that half insane pride of
the solitary which she was even then
sacrificing to those universal im
placabilities. It burned into May
nard's brain with a conviction that
whatever she said would be so.
There was an inescapability about it
all. They would each give them
selves what they wanted; she, her
manner of their giving almost proved
that the gift was in each case really
from themselves.
"Twenty pounds I will take for
the chair. No other way the Tol
leys have not yet come to charity."
Not even her pride could disguise
the clutching eagerness of her gra.sp
upon that slip of cracking paper.
Gaunt, white, she reeled, stayed only
by her grasp upon the handle of the
door behind her. Then she entered
the room again, and through the clos
ing panels came Bragdon's roar, its
discomfiture tinctured by his half de
light that the moorland legend had
once more been upheld.
"Good God she's done it. Mrs.
Tolley has her rent."
Then Elias voice, high pitched,
bubbling with undefeated faith.
"Yes fay, I told you so. I asked
un for it and what he gives you've
got to get."
And Maynard, listening amidst the
drafts and those whirls of boiling
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all bis cool pride of knowledge were
being shaken.
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4