John Henry's Ghost Story By GEORGE V. HOBART The ponies had put a sad crimp In my roll, and I had to square myself with Clara J. I told her I had bought a cottage In the burbs, and Bunch had helped me out by lending me his coun try house for a day I was supposed to show it to Clara J., and then renig on it because It was haunted. When the alarm clock went to work the next morning Clara J. turned around and gave it a look that made its teeth chatter. She had been up and doing an hour before that clock grew nervous enough to crow. Her enthusiasm was RO great that Bhe was a Busy-Lizzie long before 7 o'clock and we were not booked to leave the Choo-Choo House till 10:30. About 8 o'clock she dragged me away from a drama and I reluctantly awoke to a realization of the fact that I was due to deliver some goods which I had never seen and didn't want to see. "Get up, John!" Clara J. suggested, with a degree of excitement in her voice, "it's getting dreadfully late and you know I'm all impatience to see that lovely home you've bought for me in the country!" Me under the covers, gnawing holes in the pillow to keep from swearing. "Oh, dear me!" she sighed, "I'm afraid I'm Just a bit sorry to leave this sweet little apartment. We've been so happy here, haven't we?" I grabbed the ball and broke through the center for 10 yards. "Sorry," I echoed, tearfully; "why, it's breaking my heart to leave this cozy little collar box of a home and go into a great country house full of— of—of rooms, and —er —and windows, and —cr —and—er—piazzas, and- -and —and cows and things like that." "Of course we wouldn't have to I Ij "I Jumped Head First Into My Most Blood-Curdling Story." keep the cow In the house," she said, thoughtfully. "Oh, no," I said, "that's the point. There would be a barn, and you haven't any idea how dangerous barns are They are the curse of country life, barns are." "Well, thfln, John, why did you buy the cow?" Bhe Inquired, and 1 went up and punched a hol«» In the plaster. Why did buy the row? Was tltere a cow? Had Hunch ever mentioned a cow to me? Come to think of It, he hadn't, and thero I was cooking trouble over a slow flre. When I cnme to she was saying quietly. Besides, I think Id rather have a milkman than a cow Milk men swear a lot and cheat sometimes, but as a rulo they are more trust wuriby than cows, and tliev very sel dom chaßo anybody. Couldn't you turn the barn Into a gymnasium or something?'* "Dearie," I said, trying my level best to get a mist over my lamps so as to give her the teardrop gaze, "something keeps whispering to me. 'Sid* step that cave In the wilderness!' Something ketps telling um that a month on the farm will put a crimp In ur happiness, and that the moment we move into a home In the tail grass 111 lurk will get up and put the boots to our wedded bliss" Then I gave an imitation of a chok Ins sob which sounded for all the world like th* last dying shriek of a bathtub when the water Is busy leav Ing It. "Non wass, John!** laughtd t'lara J.; "It's only natural that you regret leaving our hrst home, but aft« r ona dny In the eountry you'll be happy aa a mm vMke It a deuce," 1 muttered, "a dirty d at tlat " ,Ni • >he iaUI joyfully. Tu» going tot ik your breakfast This may be your vary la*t bt>-akfaat Is a elty apart •at for months, maybe years, »>> I'm going to UH>k It myself I've g *\ ty 'tank pei k»d haven't I wuikt t I.aril* flat up, you taiy boy!" kU'l wit tbla aba dan. ■<l out of the WM t very Uuab packed' Mil sbe In ias it taking them with in r, and II sbe til h • vu4 i »t*p ti rf Back to the woods! I began to feel like a street Just before they put the asphalt down. For some time I lay there with my brain huddled up in one corner of my head, fluttering and frightened. Presently an Insistent scratch-r-r-r-r aroused me and I began to sit up and notice things. The things I noticed consisted chiefly of Tacks, my youthful brother in-law, and the kitchen carving knife. The former was seated on the floor laboriously engineering the latter in an endeavor to produce a large arrow pierced heart on the polished pane! of the bedroom door. "What's the idea?" I Inquired. "I'm farewelling the place," he an swered, mournfully. "They's only two more doors to farewell after I get this one finished. Ain't hearts awful hard to draw Just right, 'specially when the knife slips!" "You little imp!" I yelled. "Do you mean to tell me you've been doing a panel comic all over this man's house? Scat!" and I reacherl for a shoe. "Cut it!" cried Tacks, indignantly. "Didn't the Janitor say he'd miss me dreadful, and how can he miss me 'less'n ho sees my loving remember ments all over the place every time he shows this compartment to somebody else? And it is Impolite togo 'way forever and ever amen without fare welling the Janitor." "Where do you think you're going?" I inquired, trying hard to be calm. "To the country to live, sister told me," Tacks bubbled; "and we ain't never coming back to this horrid city, sister told me; and you bought the house for a surprise, sister told me; and it has a plzzazus all around it, sister told me; and a cow that gives condensed milk, sister told me; and they a hens and chickens and turkey gob!ins and a garden to plant potato salad In, and they's a barn with pigeons In the attic, and they's a lawn with a barber's wire fence all around j It. sister told me; and our trunks are , all packed, and we ain't never coming back here no more, sister told me; and I must hurry and farewell them j two doors!" Tacks was slightly in the lead when my shot* reached the door, so he won. At bri-skfast we were Joined by Uncle I'eter and Aunt Martha, both of whom fairly oozed enthusiasm, and Clara J 'a pulse began to climb with ; excitement and anticipation. I was on the bargaiu counter, mark cd down from 30 cents. livery time l.'ncle Peter sprang a new idea In reference to his garden. ! aud they came so fast they almost choked liiui, I felt a burning bead of ! perspiration start out to explore my j forehead Presently to put the froth of fear ( upon my cup of sorrow there came a 1 telegram from "Bunch" which read a* follows: New York | John Henry, No 301 W. 109 th HI Sister and family will move In eouu try house tomorrow Re aura to play i your game today. flood luck. lluucb. Poor John' you look ao worried." said t 'lara I emloualy; "1 i sully hope it Is nothing thai will rail yuu back to town for a week at least It will take us fully a week tu get settled; | don't you think so. Aunt Martha?" | dove Into my coffecup and stayed | under a long time, When I catue to the surfan ag.tla t'nele Peter was ei j plaining to lacks thai baked beans grew only in a very kot climate, and I In the gfttrral confusion the telegram | waa forgotten by all estept my bar poo lied self. flat a I and Aunt Martha were both teat till wbeu w« laft the flat to ride i ti tb station, but to my Intense relief * o i.ii niton was made of tbe trunks; ! *ks»i«|«t»ntly I t.»g*n to lift tbe mutt | gage from my life and breaths easier tin ike way out 'l'ai as left a small J mi i el eit* use uf the hall boys wkln CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 22, 1910. Instructions to hand tt to the Janitor aa eoon as possible. "It's a little present for the janitor in loving remembrance of bis mem ory," Tacks explained with something (bat sounded like a catch in his voice. "Hasn't that boy a lovely disposi tion," Aunt Martha beamed on Tacks, "to be so forgiving to the janitor after the horrid man had sworn at him and blamed him for putting a cat in the dumb waiter and sending it up to the nervous lady on the seventh floor, who abominated cats and who screamed and fell over in a tub of suds when she opened the dumb waiter door to get her groceries and the cat jumped at her? Mercy! how can the boy be so generous?" Tacks bore up bravely under this panegyric of praise and his face wore a rapt expression which amounted al most to religious fervor. "What did you give the janitor, Angel-Face?" I asked. "Only just another remembrance," Tacks answered, solemnly. "I hap pened to find a poor, little dead mouse under the gas range, and I thought I'd farewell the Janitor with it." Aunt Martha sighed painfully, and Uncle Peter chuckled inwardly like a mechanical toy hen. On the train out to Jiggersville, Clara J. was a picture entitled "The ■Toy of Living"—kind regards to Mrs. Pat Campbell; Ibsen please write. As for me, with every revolution of the wheels I grew more and more a half portion of chipped beef. "Oh, John!" said Clara J., her voice shrill with excitement; "I forgot to tell you! I left my key with mother and she's going to superintend the packing of the furniture this after noon. By evening she expects to have everything loaded in the van and we won't have to wait any time for our trunks and things!" "Great Scott!" I yelled. "Maybe you won't like the house! Maybe it's only a shanty with holes in the roof— er, I mean, maybe you'll be disap pointed with the layout! What's the blithering sense of being in such a consuming fever about moving the fiendish furniture? I'm certain you'll hate the very sight of this corn-crib out among the ant hills. Can't you back-pedal on the furniture gag and give yourself a chance to hear the answer to what you ask yourself?" Clara J. looked tearfully at me for a moment; then she went over and sat with Aunt Martha and told her how glad she was we were moving to the country where the pure air would no doubt have a soothing effect on niy nerves, because I certainly had grown irritable of late. At last we reached the little old log cabin down the lane, and after the first glimpse I knew it was all off. The place I had borrowed from Hunch for a few minutes was a dream, all right, all right. With its beautiful lawns and its glistening graveled walks; with a modern house perfect in every detail; with its murmuring brooklet rushing away into a perspective of nodding green trees, and with the bright sun shine smiling a welcome over all, it made a picture calculated to charm the most hardened city crab that ever crawled away from the cover of the skyscrapers. As for Clara J., she simply threw up both hands and screamed for help. She danced and yelled with delight. Then she hugged and kissed me with a thousand reiterated thanks for my glorious present. I felt as joyous as a Jelly flsh. Ten legged microbes began to climb into my pores. Everything I had in my system rushed to my head. I could seo myself In the giggle giggle ward In a bat house, playing I was the king of England. 1 was a Joke turned upside down. After they had examined every nook and cranny of the place and had talked themselves hoarse with do light, I called them all up on the front piazza for the purpose of put ting out their lights with my ghost story. I figured on driving them all back to the depot with about four para graphs or creepy talk, so when I had them huddled I began In a hoarse whisper to raise their hair. 1 told them that no doubt they had noticed the worried expression on my face and explained that It was due chiefly to the fact that I had learned quite by accident that this beautiful place was haunted. Tacks grew so excited that he dropped a garden spade off the piazza and into u hot house below, breaking seven panes of glass, but the others only ami! d Indulgently and I went on. 1 jumped headfirst Into my most blood cur Ming story and related in de tail how a murder had beeu com mitted on the very site the house wus butlt oh and how a fierce bewhlskered spirit roamed the premises at night and demanded vengeance I described lu awful words the harrowing spec tacle and all I got at (he finish waa the hoot from L'nuie Peter. "Poor John, ' said Clara J. "I had no Idea you were so ruu down. Why, you're almost on the vergn of nervous proa t rat to u And how thoughtful you wire to ilt k out a haunted house, for I do lov« ghosts Didn't you kuow that? I'll tell you what lets do I'll give a prise lor the first one who sees and speuks to this unhappy spirit - won t It be Jolly? Where are you go lug. Jobu?" Mu, lo the undertakers I itieau I iswl fas bae|» lo town That tele gram Ihis uiorulug Important busl aeae forgot all about It set later don t breathe till I get t g | u>' mu don't Hi* till I •>!»' the devil!" Just than 1 l«>ll over Ihe lawn mow Mr, pit sr I loyseli up hastily ami lushed og tu low u la Hud Hunch, for I i«< >ll i«iuly up against it g„ed ,C»tf< • '» s I*! >«seflt Back to the Soil. "Back to the soil," cried the sages, "That way lleß money and health." Somehow It seemed too hard labor Bowing and reaping: for wealth. . "Back to the soil," cried the boomers. ■ "Country and city In one," M Tet an existence suburban SK k JK i Seemed but a. farce of true fun. k JK i ; j ; "Back to the soil," cried promoters. | Y ! "Gold mines but two cents a share." T ,1s That looked a bit more Inviting, ,l s * I Still he did not seem to care. / I v A I K Tet he succumbed to the slogan, / I And for a tiny estate. 1/ 4 >i Gee. but he ran like the dickens Trying to reach the home plate. —Mcf-andburgh Wilson, In New York Sun. Knights of the Toasting Fork By KATE LILLY BLUE Tha perplexed frown cleared from Dorothy's brow as she laid down pencil and note book. "Yes," she said, in answer to Helen's Inquiring look, "feel sure we can make It, If you will just remember to be economical about the cooking. Of course, after paying for rent, gas and food we will have nothing left, but for tunately, we will not need any clothes this year." "And by tho time we do you will be making lots of money with your stories." "I hope so, Indeed, but let us not count chickens before they hatch. She smiled light-heartedly as she rose from the little table where they had eaten their first meal in an apartment house In the big city to which they had come to try their fortunes—the orphan daughters of an impecunious doctor in a country town. "Put on your hat and let us sally forth to get our bearings," said Dor othy, the literary genius who was to conquer fortune with tho point of her pen. "And find the shop where food Is cheapest," replied Helen, the domestic goddess who was to rule over the pots and pans during tho warfare. But 10, when they tried the door It refused to open, and after vain at tempts by both they realized they were Imprisoned In a room on tho seventh floor of tho big building with no ap parent moans of getting out except by way of the flre escape. They were too far above the street to attract the attention of the passers by and unless they sprouted wings, or an airship strayed by, they must get out by the door. "If some one would pass along the corridor," said Helen dolefully. "The transom!" cried Dorothy, "the transom! Maybe I can see somo one from there." In a trice they had rolled the dresser in front of tho door atd Dorothy had mounted to peer through tho glass transom. "I hear footsteps—oh, hope they are coming this way. Oh, please, please, sir, whoever you are, we are locked in! Can't you help us?" Tho young man who was walking aimlessly down tho corridor looked up in amazement to encounter a flushed young face lit by a pair of pleading gray eyes. "Locked in? Who did it? What for? Of cour>.o I'll help you, if you tell mo how. Shall 1 break in the door or go for tho police?" Doily smib d, showing a dimple which was her most valuable asset. "We did it ourselves, 1 suppose, not understanding tho lock. If you will kindly call the janitor I think bo can liberate us." The young mail turned and vanished | to reappear in on Incredibly short time 1 with the janitor who opened the door with his pass key and explained to them tho mechanism of the spring lock. Both the girls thanked him grateful ly and its he retired turned to the youth who still held his ground, hat In hand. Ills face flushed at their thanks and he stammered, "Don't mention It.l am one of your neighbors. My, room Is just below and If It happens again Just call ou me. My name Is Peter Har ris." As the girls walked along the street they laughed over the adventure. "I hope our deliverer will not pre sume on this," said Helen. "I don't think he looks presumptions oh, Helen, I have never seen aiiyouo who looked as much like an augul as did through that transom." "An angel with red hair aud freckles. Just fancy!" laughed Helen "But >uu will have to grant that hl.> name is appropriate, at l«»aat." "Kveii so tit Peter sounds aLI light 1 to uie lie Is yours at least you may | claim him, eveu It you never speak to him again " A week w«ut by iiuroihy spent ! most of her time at her typewriter while lt«Wa kept the tiny apartment ' beautifully •»' at ami eli all aud pre jwred 'he M»» tie oil Ihe gas stove | Twice a day lh«y went for a lone j walk, and on one •>r iw» idea*!<>iis met j | pet-1 Haul on the stairs i'hejf nl | wa l l ' ;• 1- ■►»•*< » ■"■ I—"""' "• I "S.. . Wll « • alone. Helen remained at home to cook supper. Suddenly the hugo toasting fork she was wielding slipped from her hand onto the sill, through the window and was gone. She watched its flight in breathless fascination until It landed with a clang on the pavement at the feet of a young man who was passing. Helen saw him stoop to take It, then look up to see whence It came. She drew in her face and ran down the stairs to recover her property. At the third flight she met the rescuer of the toasting fork bring ing it to her. "Is this yours?" :ie asked, a quizzical look in his eyes. "Yes," she said, with a gentle dig nity which sat well upon her. "Thank you for troubling to restore It." - "Don't mention It. I think neighbors ought to be neighborly, and I promise if your property strays my way again I shall take pleasure in restoring it to you." He watched her with admiration as she ascended the stairs and waa al most run over by a plump, dimple cheeked, auburn-haired young woman, who seemed as abstracted as himself. The girls laughed over this adven ture as they had over the other, and agreed as before that they must be careful of this "Knight of the toastln* fork," as they styled him, might prove troublesome. A week later they were returning from their walk when Helen, running up the last flight of stairs, turned her foot. She slipped and went tumbling down the narrow steps. Dorothy caught her in her arms and stopped her, but when she tried to put her foot to the floor she gave a cry of pain. "Oh, Dolly, I have sprained my ankle!" "Oh, what shall we do?" Dolly wall ed. "I remember seeing a doc tor's sign on the floor below. Let's get him." Before Helen could remonstrate she was gone. Half way down the next flight she ran into Peter Harris. "Oh, St. Peter," she cried, to his as tonishment, "Helen has fallen down stairs and broken her ankle. Where can I find a doctor?" "Here," he said, as he led her to wards a door on the lower landing. "Frank," he called, "como quickly. A young lady has fallen downstairs and hurt her ankle. A hurried step across the room and a young man stood before them. "This is Dr. Davidson, Miss —" "Duval," she said, In answer to his look of inquiry. "My sister is on the floor above. Do come at ouce." Then found Helen pale with pain, but she gave a faint smile as she recog nized in the young physician her knight of the toasting-fork. The doctor gavo his friend somo in structions in a low voice, then without a word to her picked up the injured young lady and proceeded to carry her to her room in his arms. When Dorothy unlocked the door, he deposited his lovely burden on the lit tle white cot inside. While he was re reinovlng the shoo from tho rapidly swelling foot, St. Peter arrived with the bandage for which ho had been sent, and soon the doctor's deft fingers had bandaged the injured ankle and arranged it as comfortably as possible. After receiving the thanks of thu girls the young men returned to the apartment below and settled them selves for a cozy smoke. After smoking in silence for awhile, the doctor said: "By Jove, did you ever soe any thing so exquisite?" "Never," returned Harris, emphatic ally, but thu doctor was thinking of tho pale, sweet face with its aureole of golden hair us It lay on the pillow, while Harris could see nothing but thu round, flushed, childish face with thu big gray eyes full of tears and nux i.-ty. The next day the doctor called twice upon his patient, accompanied both times by his friend. The llrsl time they found iHirotby wrestling with the gas stove, ii«r cheeks pinker than ever, her unburn hair more tumbled, lluleu was propped up on her cot. "Poor Dolly was not meant for a cook," sbu said "She has three burns already, doctor, which need your at tention as much as my aukle does." "Oh no," cried Dorothy, quickly, as visions of a large doctor's bill loomed up before her. "I wll. put some soda oil thu burns and It will be all light tomorrow " Harris volunteered to assist h«»r, and whlluthii doctor 11114 • >.d the bandag"* on lleU<u's ankle l»Jj> friend not only applied the soda but li<<ip> d ikirothy to cook the lmnh<oh Helen's ankl* was slow to mom!, and while »h«» waa helpl»*s the inti wavy among tin. young p«opi s gre* The doetor paid such frequent i*|U llt m.iuiii) had grown uiuru and mure worried as she thought about in bill tfb« > ven thought of giving u hut Kio* doing feit'tiu i ill** ui#iiin kill** friend remained so late that she asked them to tea. While she and Peter were laying the table, Helen and the doctor watch ed them from the other room. Helen frowned. "Dorothy ought not to marry a poor man. She ought to stay single, or marry money." "And why?" inquired the doctor with interest. "Because she has genius, and for her genius to develop properly she should not bother about the loaves and fishes. "And, besides, her cooking would drive any man to drink." "You needn't worry about that if she marries Peter. You see what a good coo khe is. And then —he isn't a cook by profession. He learned to do it on some of his many camping expedi tions. He is really a very rich man, with a handsome home which he shut up when his mother died, and came to live with me." "Oh, I am so glad," exclaimed Helen, as she saw Peter furtively kiss a burn on Dolly's arm. The doctor's voice recalled Helen. "I suppose you ought to marry a rich man, too —a man who could furnish the proper setting for your beauty." "I —oh, no," she replied, sweetly. "My only talent is home-making, and. that could be cultivated to better pur pose in the modest home of a man in moderate circumstances." He bent over her quickly. "Helen, Helen! Do not play with me! You know I love you. Am I the man for whom you are willing to exercise your talents?" The blue-gray eyes met the brown ones above them in one look of under standing, while his hand found hera and clasped it. "Supper is ready. St Peter bids you come and feast on viands of his pre paring. Let us eat, drink and ba merry today, for tomorrow —" "We marry," finished St. Peter. QUAINT OLD MAYPOLE INN House of Public Entertainment That Stood at the Edge of Epplng Forest. In the year 1775 there stood upon the borders of Epplng forest, at a dis tance of about 12 miles from London —measuring from the standard ia Cornhill, or rather from the spot on or near to which the standard used to be in days of yore—a house of public en tertainment called the Maypole; which fact was demonstrated to all such travelers as could neither read nor write —and 66 years ago a vast number both of travelers and stay-at-homes were in this condition —by the emblem reared on the roadside over against tha, house, which, if not of those goodly proportions that Maypoles were wont to present in olden times, was a fair young ash, 30 feet in height, and straight as any arrow that ever Eng lish yeoman drew. The Maypole—by which term from henceforth is meant the house, and not its sign—the Maypole was an old building, with more gable ends than a lazy man would care to count on a sunny day; huge zig-zag chimneys, out of which it seemed as though even smoke could not choose but come in more than naturally fantastic shapes, Imparted to it in its tortuous progress; and vast stables, gloomy, ruinous and empty. Its windows were old diamond pane lattices, its floors were sunken and un even, Its ceilings blackened by tho hand of time and heavy with massive beams. Over the doorway was an ancient porch, quaintly and grotes quely carved; and here on summer evenings the more favored customers smoked and drank —ay, and sang many a good song, too, sometimes— reposing on two grim-looking, htgh backed settles, which, like the twin dragons of eomo fairy talo, guarded the entrance lo the mansion.—Charles Dickens, in "Harnuby Rudge." Importance of the Recess. "The school recess is one of the most important features of child edu cation. Its Influences are moro pow erful than those of the classroom and more vital than any other the child participates in," said W. E. Watt, principal of tho Crahani school. Chi cago. "During this playtime activity," continued Mr. Watt, "ho loams his true relation among thoae who are stronger than himself. One helpful lesson Is that tho fellow who appeals to tho teacher or principal Is not es teemed highly "The children of the grammar school And the recess to be the most profitable period. Every teacher goes down with her own pupils. She or ganizes the games, of which she knows a great many. She encourages the pupils to play the games familiar to their parents, perhaps In the old country. We have printed a little book of r«ces* games which require little or no apparatus. Tho teachers get as much benefit out of the games ss do the pupils." —Christian Hclem-e Monitor. A Bibulous Blunder. "How did Colonel goaktoy happen to liny a copy of 111 ler Haggard * "Red Kvs' T' "tilt, th' t'oluuel glaaeed at the title ratH< i haatlly and thought It was lt«4 Ky«'** A New 0««"Uioe. I Ittln Cobby V\ hat are Ihe •'»»• of OKI I lull? |VI« I lob Tk<NW •* Il.tte li<ig<|tfc*tl to commit, but Willi h a* 'MlttV *H> iid to as kutiß m *« ,! legit; ' k"t on rat#»l.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers