BY MARGARET MAYO COPYRIGHT, 1908, BY DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY [Continued from last week.] [ She closed the door behind her, and Douglas was alone, He gazad absen! dy at the pages of his unfiished ser- qmon as he tapped his idie pen on the desk. “The show has got to go on,” he repented, and far up the hillside with the slow moving wagons Jim and Toby looked with uunseeing eyes into the dim. starlit distance and echoed the thought, “The show has got to go on.” CHAPTER V. HE church bells were ringing their first warning for the morning service when Maundy peeped into the spare bedroom: for the second time and glanced cau- glously at the wisp of hair that bespoke a feminine Lead somewhere between the covers and the littie white pillow | on the four poster bed. There was nu sound “row the sleeper, so Mandy ven- | tured across the room on tiptoe and raised the shades. The drooping [boughs of autumn foliage lay shim- | Karo against the window panes, and | ugh them might be seen the gray | outline of the church. Mandy glanced | ‘again toward the bed to make sure {that the burst of sunlight had not ywakened the invalid, then crossed to a small, rickety chair laden with the discarded finery of the little circus | rider. “Lawdy sakes!” she cried, holding up a spangled dress admiringly. “Ain't dat beautiful!” She drew near the jmirror, attempting to see the reflec- ition of the tinsel and chiffon aguinet | ner very ample background of ging- ‘ham and avoirdupols. “You'd sure be “SHE DONE BEEN room. “This ain't the show!” she cried suddenly. “Lor bless you, no! Dis ain't ne show!” Mandy answered, and she laughed reassuringly. “Then where am 1?" Polly asked, half breathless with bewilderment. “Nebber you mind 'bout dat,” was Mandy's unsatisfactory reply. “But I do mind,” protested Polly trying to raise herself to a sitting po sition, “Where's the bunch?” “De wat?” asked Mandy in surprise. “The bunch—Jim and Toby an’ the rest of the push!” “Lor’ bless you,” Mandy exclaimed, “dey’'s done gone 'long wid de circus hours ago.” “Gone! Show gone!” Polly cried in amazement. “Then what am I doin’ here?” “Hol’ on dar, honey! Hol' on!" Mandy cautioned. “Don’t you ‘cite yo'se'f.” “Let me alone!” Polly put aside the arm that was trying to place a shawl around her. “I got to get out of here.” “Youse got plenty o' time for dat,” Mandy answered. “Jes’ yo' wait awhile.” “I can't wait, an’ 1 won't!” Polly shrieked, almost beside herself with , anxiety. “1 got to get to the next burg—Wakefield, ain't it? What time is it? Let me alone! Let me go!” she cried, struggling desperately. The door opened softly, and the young pastor stood looking down at the picture of the frail, white faced child and her black, determined cap tor. “Here, here! What's all this about? he asked in a firm tone, though evi dently amused. — CUTTIN' UP SOMEFIN AWFUL! a swell nigger wid dat on, honey!" she chuckled to herself. “Wouldn't dem deacons holler if dey done see dat?” The picture of the deacons’ aston. ishment at such a spectacle so grew upon Mandy that she was obliged to cover her generous mouth to shut in her convulsive laughter lest it awaken the little girl in the bed. She crossed to the old fashioned bureau which for many months had stood unused agains: the wall. The drawer creaked as she opened it to lay away the gay, span- gled gown. “It'll he a mighty long time afore she puts on dem tings ag'in,” she said, Sith a doubtful shake of her large. round head. Then she went back to the chair and picked up Polly's sandals and exam: ined the hendwork with a great dea’ of interest “Lawdy, lawdy!” she cried as she compared the size of the san dais to that of her own rough, wors shoes, She was again upon the point of exploding with laughter as the church bell added a few final am | more emphatic clangs to its warning. She turned, with a start, motioning 2 vain warning out of the window for the bell to be silent, but the little sleeper was already stirring uneasily on her pillow. One soft arm was thrown languidly over her head. The blue eyes opened and closed dreamuy as she murmured the words of the clown song that Jim and Toby bad taught her years ago: “Ting ling, That's what the bells sing" — Mandy reached the side of the be. as the girl's eyes opened a second time and met hers with a blank stare of astonishment. A tiny frown came into the small white forehead. “What's the matter?” she asked faintly, trying to find something fa- miliar in the black face before her. “Hush, child, hush,” Mandy whis- pered. ‘Jes’ you lay puffickly still Dat's only de furs’ bell a-ringin’.” “First bell?” the girl repeated as her eyes traveled quickly about the strange walls and the unfamiliar fittings of the “Who are you?’ returned the girl a= she shoved herself quickly back against the pillows and drew the cov: ers close under her chin, looking ai him oddly over their top. “She done been cuttin’ up somefin awful!” Mandy explained as she tried to regain enough breath for a new en counter. “Cutting up? You surprise me, Mis: Polly,” he said, with mock seriousness “How do you know I'm Polly?’ th: little rebel asked, her eyes gleaming large and desperate above the friendl; covers. “If you will be very good and keep very quiet, I will try to tell you,” Iu said as he crossed to the bed. “I won't be quiet, not for nobody.’ Polly objected, with a bold disregard of double negatives. “I got to get 1 move. If you ain't goin’ to help mi you needn't butt in.” “I am afraid I can’t help you to g: just yet,” Douglas replied. He was be ginning to perceive that there were tasks before him other than the shap ing of Polly's character. “What are you tryin’ to do to me anyhow?’ she asked as she shot s glance of suspicion from the pastor tc Mandy. “What am I up against?” “Don't you be scared, honey,” Man dy reassured her. “Youse jes' as safe here as you done been in de circus.” “Safer, we hope,” Douglas added with a smile. “Are you two bug?’ Polly ques tioned as she turned her head from oie side to the other and studied them with a new idea. “Well, you can’ get none the best of me. I can get away all right, an’ I will too.” She made a desperate effort. to pu one foot to the floor, but fell back wit! ta ery of pain. ' “Dar, dar,” Mandy murmured, put ting the pillow under the poor, .cramped neck and smoothing the tan gled bair from Polly's forehead. “You done hurt yo'sef for suah dis time.” The pastor had taken a step toward the bed. His look of amusement had changed to one of pity. “You see, Miss Polly, you have had a very bad fall, and you can’t get awa; just yet nor see your friends until yor are better.” “It's oniy a scratch” Polly whim pered. “I can do my work; [ got to. One more feeble effort and she suc cumbed, with a faint “Jiminy erick ots!” “Uncle Toby told me that you were a very good little girl” Douglas said as he drew up a chair and sat down by her side, confident by the expres sion on her face that at last he wa: master of the situation. “Do you thin: he would like you to behave like this? “I sure am on the blink,” she sighed as she settled back wearily upon the pillow. “You'll be all right soon,” Douglas answered cheerily. “Mandy and I will help the time to go.” “You'd sure be a swell nigger wid dat on, wney!" she chuckled. “I recollect now,” Polly faltered without hearing him. “It was the last hoop. Jim seemed to have a hunch I was goin’ to be in for trouble when I went into the ring. Bingo must 'a’ felt it too. He kept a-puilin’ and a-jerkin’ from the start. I got myself together to make the last jump, an’'—I[ can't re member no more.” Her head drooped, and her eyes closed. “I wonldn't try just now if 1 were you,” Douglas answered tenderly. “It's my wheel, ain't it?” Polly ques. tioned after a pause. “Yoah what, chile?’ Mandy exclaim: ed as she turned from the table, where she had been rolling up the unused bandages left from the doctor's call the night before. “I say it's my creeper, my paddle” Polly explained, trying to locate a few of her many pains. “Gee, but that hurts!” She tried to bend her ankle. “Is it punetured?” “Only sprained,” Douglas answered, striving to control his amusement at the expression on Mandy's puzzled face. “Better not talk any more about it." “Ain't anything the matter with my tongue, is there?’ she asked, turning her head to one side and studying him quizzically. “I don't think there is,” he replied good naturedly. “How did I come to fall in here any- how?" she asked as she studied the walls of the unfamiliar room. “We brought you here.” “It's a swell place,” she conceded grudgingly. “We are comfortable,” he admitted as a telltale smile again hovered about his lips. He was thinking of the changes that he must presently make in Miss Polly's vocabulary. “Is this the big top?’ she asked. “The—what?” he stammered. “The main tent,” she explained. “Well, no; not exactly. It's going to be your room now, Miss Polly.” “My room! Gee! Think of that! she gasped as the possibility of het actually having a room all of her own took hold of her mind. “Much obliged,” she said, with a nod, feeling that something was expected of her She knew no other phrase of gratitude than the one “Muvver Jim” and Toby had taught her to say to the manager when she received from him the first stick of red and white striped candy. “You're very welcome,” Douglas an swered, with a ring of genuine feeling in his voice. “Awful quiet, ain't 1t?" she ventured after a pause. “Guess that's what woke me up.” Douglas laughed good naturedly at the thought of quiet as a disturber and added that he feared it might at first be rather dull for her, but that Jim and Toby would send her news of the circus and that she could write to them as soon as she was better. “I'll have to be a heap better ‘an I ever was ‘fore I can write much,” Polly drawled, with a whimsical lit- tle smile. “I will write for you,” the pasior volunteered, understanding her plight. “You wiil?’ For the first time he saw a show of renl pleasure in her eyes, “Bvery day,” Douglas promised sol “An' you will show me how?’ “Indeed, I will.” “How long am I in for?” she asked. “The doctor can tell better about that when he comes.” “The doctor! So—it's as bad as that, eh?” “Oh, that need not frighten you,” Douglas answered consolingly. “I ain't frightened,” she bridled quickly; “I ain’t never scared of noth- in’. It's only 'cause they need me in the show that I'm a-kickin'.” “Oh, they will get along all right” he said _reassuriagly. Claster’'s Clothing Store. Claster’'s Clothing Store. More Goods For The Same Money The Same Goods for Less Money is Our Business Word. Thousands of people in this vicinity are taking advantage of our underselling prices. Why don’t you? By buying in large quantities from the largest manufacturers enables us to sell goods at a much lower price than what you have been paying elsewhere. Below we mention you a few prices to convince you how you can make your hard earned dollars do you the most good: Men’s and Young Men's Fine Suits in all the latest styles. # 6.50 Suits our price § 3.95 6 7-50 4-39 8. 50 ““ ‘“ ““ 5. 95 10.00 “ i 4s 6.75 Ya.50 ¢ eu 8.95 14.00 ‘ ““ ‘“ 9.95 15.00 ‘ ““ 6 10.75 1.00 # uu « 12.75 22.00 * uv 14.75 Boy’s Knee Pants Suits in all styles and fabrics. $2.00 Boy’ s Suits our price , 29 1.69 2. 50 “ a“ ““ ce So of LT i“ i > % 4.00 ““ i ““ “ 2.95 5.00 “i ‘i it ‘i 3.95 6.00 ‘“ 6“ ““ ““ 4.45 Hats for Men and Boys in all the latest styles, at low price. Men’s Fine Pants in all patterns. $1.00 Pants our price 8 .69 1.25 .89 1.50 ‘“ “ 0“ .95 1.75 af “ 6“ 1.19 2.00 ““ ‘“ a“ 1.29 2.50 ‘“ ‘“ ““ 1.68 3.00 6 ““ “« 1.95 3-50 i“ ““ ““ 2.45 4.00 6 “" “ 2.95 4.50 i“ “ “ 3.19 Men's Furnishings soc. Overalls, our price 39c 1oc Canvas Gloves, price 5c soc Work Shirts,our price 39c sc red, white and blue h’k’s 3c 12¢ Men's Cotton Sox - 7c 25¢ Men's Balbriggan Unie wear, all colors -e J$1.00-1.25 fine dress Shirts I 25c and 35c Suspenders 19c soc Fine Dress Shirts - 39c soc Underwear--all colors 39c soc Leather Gloves - 39c Shoes for the Entire Family at a saving from 25¢. to $r.00 on a pair. W. L. Douglas $3.50 Fine Shoes for men, our price - $2.98 W. L. Douglas $4.00 Fine Shoes in all kinds of leather, price £3.38 W. L. Douglas $3.0 oo Fine Shoes our price . - $2.68 Men's Frruishings 25¢ Hose Supporters - 25¢ Men's Fine Hose - a 25¢ Arrow brand Collars 11c soc President Suspenders 39c 25¢ Neckwear—all styles 19c 15¢ Dress Hose . 1c 12¢ Dress Hose - 7€ 25¢ Rubber Collars - 15¢C 1oc Boys Suspenders - 6c soc Boys Knee Pants - 39c 25¢c Boys Overalls - - 1gc 25¢ Boys Shirts - - 100 Crider’s Exchange “Get ¢ nlong?” Polly flashed with sud- den resentment. “Get along without my act!” It was apparent from her look of astonishment that Douglas had completely lost whatever ground he | had heretofore gained in her respect. “Say, have you seen that show?’ She waited for his answer with pity and’ contempt. “No,” admitted John weakly. “Well, I should say you ain't or you wouldn't make no crack like that. I'm the whole thing in that push,” she said. with an air of self complacency, “an’ with me down an’ out that show wil! be on the bum for fair.” “I beg your pardon,” was all Doug: las could say, confused by the sudden volley of unfamiliar words. “You're kiddin’ me,” she said, turn- ing her head to one side, as was her wont when assailed by suspicion, “You must ‘a’ seen me ride?” “No, Miss Polly, I have never secu a circus,” Douglas told her, half regret- fully, a sense of his deep privation stealing upon him, “What!” cried Polly incredulously. “Lordy, no, chile. He ain't nebber seed none ob dem tings,” Mandy In: terrupted as she tried to arrange « few short stemmed posies in a varie gated bouquet. “Well, what do you think of that!” Polly gasped. “You're the first Rube 1 ever saw that hadn't.” She was look- ing at him as though he were a curi- osity. “So I'm a Rube!” Douglas shook hi head with a sad little smile and good naturedly agreed that he had some- times feared as much. “That's what we always calls a gu; like you,” she explained ingenuously and added hopefully: “Well, you must 'a’ seen our parade. All the pikers see that. It don't cost nothin'.” “I'm afraid I must also plead guilty to the charge of being a piker,” Doug- las admitted, half sheepishly, “for I di see the parade.” “Well, I was the one on the white horse right behind the lion cage,” she began excitedly. “You remember?” “It's a little confused in my mind"— he caught her look of amazement—*just at present,” he stammered, feeling her wrath again about te descend upon him. “Well, I'm the twenty-four sheet stand,” she explained. “Sheet!” Mandy shrieked from her corner. “Yes, the billboards, the pictures,” Polly said, growing impatient at their persistent stupidity. “She suah am a funny talkin’ thing!” mumbled Mandy to herself as she clip- ped the withered leaves from a plant near the window. “You are dead sure they know I ain't comin’ on?" Polly asked, with a linger- ing suspicion in her voice. “Dead sure.” And Douglas smiled to himself as he lapsed into her vernacu- lar. There was a moment’s pause. Polly realized for the first time that she must actually readjust herself to a new or- der of things. about the room. place in which to be imprisoned. Even Her eyes again roved It was a cheerful | Polly could not deny that. The broad window at the back, with its white and pink chintz curtains on the inside and its frame of ivy on the outside, spoke of singing birds and sunshine all day long. Everything from the white ceil- ing to the sweet smelling matting that covered the floor was spotlessly clean. The cane bottomed rocker near the curved window seat with its pretty plllows told of days when a convales- cent might look in comfort at the gar- den beneath. The counterpane, with its old fashioned rose pattern; the little white tidies on the back of each chair and Mandy crooning beside the win. dow all helped to make a homelike pic ture. She wondered what Jim and Toby would say if they could see her now, sitting iike a queen in the midst of her soft coverlets, with no need to raise even a finger to wait upon herself. “Ain't it the limit?” she sighed, and with that Jim and Toby seemed to drift farther away. She began tc see their life apart from hers. 8he could picture Jim with his head in his hands. She could hear his sharp orders to the men. He was alway: short with the others when anything went wrong with her. “I'll bet ‘Muvver Jim's’ in the dumps,” she murmured as a cloud stole across the floweriike face; then the tired muscles relaxed, and she ceased to rebel. “Muvver Jim?’ Douglas repeated feeling that he must recall her to » knowledge of his presence. “That's what I call him,” Polly ex: plained, “but the fellows call him ‘Big Jim. You might not think Jim could be a good mother just to look at him. but he is, only sometimes you can't tell him things you could a real mother,” she added, half sadly. “And your real mother went away when you were very young?” “No, she didn’t go away.” “No?' There was a puzzled note in the pastor's voice. “She went out,” Polly corrected. “Out!” he echoed blankly. “Yes; finished—lights out.” “Oh, an accident.” Douglas under- stood at last. “I don't like to talk about it.” Polly raised herself on her elbow and looked at him solemnly, as though about to impart a bit of forbidden fam- fly history. It was this look in the round eyes that had made Jim so often declare that the kid knew everything “Why, mother 'd 'a’ been ashamed if she'd 'a’ knowed how she wound up. She was the best rider of her time— everybody says so—but she cashed in by fallin’ off a skate what didn't have no more ginger 'an a kitten. If you can beat that!” She gazed at him with her lips pressed tightly together, evidently expecting some startling ex- pression of wonder. “And your father?’ Douglas asked rather lamely, belug at a loss for any adequate comment upon a tragedy which the child before him was too desolate even to understand. “Oh, dad's finish was all right. He got his'n in a lions’ cage where he worked. There was nothin’ slow about his end.” She looked up for his ap- proval, “For de Lord's sake!” Mandy groaned as the wonder of the child's conversation grew upon her. “An' now I'm down an’ out,” Polly concluded, with a sigh. “But this Is nothing serious,” the pastor, trying to cheer her. “It's serious enough with a whole show a-dependin’ on you. Maybe you don't know how it feels to have to knock off work.” said “Lordy, no, cnile. none ob dem “Oh, yes, 1 do,” Douglas answered quickly. “I was ill a while ago myself. 1 bad to be in bed day after day, think- ing of dozens of things that I ought to be doing.” “Was you ever floored?” Polly asked with a touch of unbelief as she studied the fine, healthy physique at the side of her bed. “'Deed, he was, chile,” Mandy cried, feeling that her opportunity had now arrived, “an’ 1 had the wors’ time a-keepin’ him in bed. He act jes’ like you did.” “Did he?’ Polly was delighted to find that the pastor had “nothin’ on her,” as she would have put it. “You ought to have heard him,” continued Mandy, made eloquent by Polly's show of interest. * ‘What will dose poor folks do? he kept a-sayin’. ‘Jes’ yo' lay where yo’ is,’ I tole him. ‘Dem poor folks will be better off dan dey would be a-comin’ to yoah fu- neal.’ ” [To be Continued.]
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers