Democratic watchman. (Bellefonte, Pa.) 1855-1940, January 07, 1910, Image 6

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    Bellefoute, Pa., January 7, 1910.
WHILE WAITING.
“Two days’ limit,” said Willis Bates
as he looked doubtfully at the ticket.
“Can | make it in that time?”
“Yes,” nnd the ageut pushed some
change through the window and walt-
ed expectanily for the next man in the
line, “we muke close counections. en
minutes stop at Columbia and twenty
at Charlotte for dinner. Jacksonville?
Nine-ten.” And Bates felt himself
pushed uucercmoniously aside by a
portly umn, who was eager to ex-
chauge an banknote for the ticket which
was being stamped.
“That's your train on the outside
track.” the agent called warningly.
“Better hurry.”
As this advice was accentuated by a
sharp “All sboard!” and a rush of a
few belated passengers toward the
outside track. Bates snatched up his
band bug and sprang torward.
“Whew. that was certainly a close
connection’ Le said grimly as he
swung himself on the rear car of the
moving train. “If 1 keep on at this
rate I'll get through in time for the
sale. and that will mean a thousand
dollars in my pocket. Lucky 1 thought
of it.”
The parior ear was full, so Bates
went ou until he found a seat with a
loquacious, insistent hotel runner. Just
across was n bright looking woman in
a plain traveling suit, and he glanced
at ber with sudden, half recognizing
inquiry.
But a traveler is always running
across faces that look familiar, and
his attention was soon engrossed in
warding off the advances of the hotel
runner,
The train rushed on with the vehe-
ment. volsy impeiuosity peculiar to
southern trains, as though striviug to
give au impression of territic speed,
and the tine South Carolina dust sifted
in through the windows and spread
thickly over the dingy plush seats,
calling forth handkerchiefs and im-
patient exclamations from the passen-
gers and swirling now and then into
angry clouds at rhe feeble onsiaught
of the train boy's broom.
Once be noticed the woman of the
opposite seat looking at him iuquir-
ingly. us though she, too. was trying
to recall something familiar. But
when he turned to her she was gazing
from the window.
At Columbia he spent the ten win-
utes in un forced defense of politics
and at Charlotte was glad to leave his
companion and join the rush toward
the railroad restaurant. As a geueral
thing he avoided such places. There
were apt to be poor food and service,
and not iofrequentiy oue was served
80 late that hie could only snatch a few
mouthfuls before it was time to hurry
for the train.
But here he was agreeably disap-
pointed. aud when be went to the desk
pear the door to leave his 75 cents it
was with » feeling of satisfaction at
pot havieg been imposed upon. Out-
side be looked ut bis watch. lo still
lacked five minutes of train time, so
he walked leisurely down the plat-
fori.
As be turned to come back he found
himself face to face with the woman
who sat opposite him in the car. For
a moment they gazed squarely into
each other's eves, then both started
forward.
_“Aren’t you Charlie Holbrook" the
woman asked eagerly. “1 thought 1
knew you on the train
“Yes. and you are. or was, Alice
Durfee.” Bates said. no less eagerly.
“My. but I'm glad to meet you: Let
me see, it's eighteen years since 1 left
the old village. and | haven't seen a
soul from there since. How are they
all-your mother, and Henry Taber,
and wy cousin, Bob Bates? Bob's
the only kin 1 bave, but he and | never
did get on well together. Oh, 1 beg
your pardon” —hburriedly—-"1 forgot.”
© “My mother died ten years ago,” she
answered steadily. “After that | came
south and have ouly beeu back once
since. Henry Taber had the postoftice
the last | koew, and Bob"--
There was a significant movement
acress the platform, and Bates glanc-
2d at his watch.
“It's time to get on Loard!" he ex-
«claimed. “We'll finish our talk in the
Lar.”
But the woman drew back.
“This isn't my train.” she said.
wit here two hours.”
“Really!” with sudden dismay in his
oy
voice. “Why, 1 was counting on a
‘good long talk. Is Bob—your husband
~along?"
- Bhe looked surprised.
“I don't kpow what you mean,” she
answered. “1 have vever married. 1
came south ten years ago in search of
wrork and have been teaching school
ever since. You'll miss your train”
It was aiready gliding down the plat-
fofm, but Lie ueither noticed it nor her
warning. In his eyes was an expres-
sion of incredulous inquiry.
“Isn't Bob Bates” —
She motioned toward the train.
“wyou'll miss i!" she cried again;
then her hand dropped to het side.
“Phere; it is too late! Was it very
fmportant?” anxiously.
. “Yes—no—that is, 1 guess so.” he an
pwered indifferently. “A thousand dcl
lars, ! believe.”
A man with the emblematic 8. R, on
‘his cap came down the platform, and
‘Bates called him with a gesture.
| “How long before the next train
‘north ?* he demanded.
i “Ap hour and forty minutes.”
“Good!” turning to her, with beam
ing satisfaction, “And you huve to wait
© wo hours. That will give us plenty
_ f time to talk. Now.” with a strange
~ igerness in his voice, “do you mean
L tell we that you did not marry Bol
* ites the fall 1 left?”
“Certainly 1 did not,” wounderingly
“1 never married anybody. much less
Bob Bates, 1 never likedsthat man.”
“Strange. and he told me” —
“What 7" she demanded sharply.
“Why, that you were promised to
him and that—well, what he told me
was the cause of my leaving and of
my not communicating with any one
in the old village during all these
years. And to think™— Here a truck
load of trunks was pushed rapidly to-
ward them, and they were forced aside.
Bates caught the eye of a waiting
hackman and nodded. A moment later
the earringe stood beside the platform,
wiih the driver holding open the door
for them to enter.
“A station platform is no place to
tlk” sald Bates genially. “Suppose
we take a drive through some of the
quiet streets of the city. We have
plenty of rime.” Then he looked ‘at
her with a vew thought in his eyes.
“1 didn't see you in the”— he began,
then added hastily, “You haven't had
dinner, 1 suppose.”
“No.” hesitating and flushing a Mt-
tle. “1"—
“Oh, | understand.” quickly. "Yon
are like me and can’t put up with the
makeshifts of a railroad restaurant,
Now, I'll tell you what,” unblushingly.
“I'm about us bungry as a man can be,
There's a nice hotel in buck some-
where. We'll go to that and have
dinner, and then we'll drive about the
city and talk until train time.”
There was hesitation, almost refu-
sul, on her face; but, feigning not to
notice it, he urged her into the carriage
and then sprang in himself and mo-
tioned for the driver to close the door.
An hour passed and then a half
hour, and soon after a train rumbled
futo the station and then rumbled
away. Twenty minutes wore und an-
other train arrived and departed. As
it disappeared the carriage again
whirled up beside the station.
“Has my train gope?' the woman
asked anxiously as she reached the
platform.
Bates took cut his watch and looked
at it meditatively.
“I'm afraid it has.” he answered,
“and wy train, too, with its possible
thousand dollars. We've been goue a
little over two hours. Driver,” severe-
ly, “you ought not to hae taken us
so far"
There was grave concern in his voice,
but in his eves wus au sly twinkle,
which she did not notice. The driver
twirled his hat apologetically in one
baud. but into the other a generous tip
had been slipped, so he was silent.
“It is really too bud,” Butes con-
tinued sympathetically. “There is only
one more train out today, and that
goes toward Richmond. But I'll tell
you what,” as though struck by a sud-
den solution of the problem, “suppose
we take that, You know what you
have promised me at the end of three
months, Now, what Is the use of
waiting that long” You have no peo-
ple, and 1 have none, and if you go
back to that school you have been
telling me about it wiil be to unap-
precintive employers and at wages
that will scarce pay your expenses. 1
have a good house waiting for some-
body to look after it and more money
in the bank than 1 kuow what to do
with. Now, my idea is for us to go
to a mivister. You know where a min-
ister lives, don't you?" to the driver.
“Yis, sore.” grinning.
“And then come back and take the
train for Riclmond. It is a very nice
city, and you are bound to like it. How
does the scheme strike you" -
Evidently it struck ber unfavorably
or as something too astounding to ad-
mit even of a reply.
“Good!” he said beamingly. “Silence
means consent. Now we will drive
back to the liotel aud write a couple of
letters. You tell the school committee
that unforeseen circumstances prevent-
ed your returning, and 1 will write
that the same kind of circumstances
have kept me from attending the sale.
Come.”
She parted Ler I'ps as though to pro-
test and even tried to draw back, but
her heart was with this man who bad
been so much to her youth and who
had returned. and in the end she en-
tered the carriage with him and the
door was aguin closed by the driver.
It is said that the groom is usually
the one to show trepidation at a wed-
ding. but in this case it was the bride.
In a twinkling the whole course of her
life bad been turned. She was being
transformed from a schoolteacher to
a wife. Dut in ber breast was that
satisfaction at being permitted to give
up that struggle with the world which
is natural to wen and usually distaste-
ful to women. instead a vision glim-
mered before her eyves—a vision of
home. husband and children—and,
despite such gasps us one will take at
being swung over a precipice, she was
happy.
An hour later this driver was stand:
ing on the platform of the station
watching the train rumble away to
ward Richwood. Not until it had dis
appeared did he climb back to his box
and drive toward home. Bridget, his
wife. was preparing supper when he
came in from the stable.
“Och, Pat.” she called in sudden ap:
urehension, “how come yez so soon?
It is bad luck ye've been havin' the
amy? 3 :
“Troth. ro, Biddy.” ciatebing her in
Lis arms nud swinging her about the
room and then slipping a crisp new
ten dollar bill in her hand, “That's
for the uew clothes the childers nade.”
His Speciclty.
“That clerk of yours seems to be a
hard worker™ “Yes, that's his s
elalty.” “What - working?" “No.
Seeming to." — Boston Transcript.
i
3
One Difference. i
Examiner - Now. children, what is
the difference between “pro” and
won?" RBrirht Boy - Please, sir, they’
gpett different. = Longton Punch. ~
.
Her Little Bluff.
“Ethel,” said Lionel Bertram Jones
as he dropped his slice of bread in the
plate with a noise that set the canary
in the gilt eage overhead chirping mer-
rily—"Ethel, | have something to say
to you.”
They had been married only four
weeks, and the time had not arrived
when she did all the saying.
“Do you remember the day on which
1 proposed to you?”
“Yes,” she replied.
get it.”
“Do you remember,” he went on as
he abstractedly drilled a hole in the
loaf with the poiut of a carving knife,
“how when | rang the bell you came
to the door with your fingers sticky
with dough and said you thought it
was your little brother who wanted to
*1 will never for-
could yon?"
“How could 1 what?" she responded
as a guilty look crept into Ler face,
“How could you make me the victim
of such a swindle”
It Was Mistaken Charity.
The athletic girl had been out in the
woods taking pictures, and ut evening
she started for the car, wearily lug-
ging the eamern and tripod. The cars
were thronged with workmen return
ing to their homes, and she bad to
wait some time before there came one
with even standing room inside. She
pushed her way across the platform
and just inside the doorway. The legs
of the tripod rested on the tloor at her
side, and she was trying to brace her-
self against the door when a woman
who had been sitting in the coroner
suddenly rose from her seat and gen-
tly but firmly pushed the young wo-
man into it, with the remark, “Now
you sit right there, you poor thing!”
The girl remaived sented passively
and looked puzzied for a moment.
Then a dull fAush covered her face.
“How awful!" she thought. “That wo-
man saw the tripod legs and thought
they were crutches. She thinks I'm
ame.” Then she shrank back in the
seit and tried vot to show her face. —
Exchange.
The Nerve of a Boy.
“Speaking of the nerve displayed by
small boys,” suid a man who had a
trip through the southwest, “reminds
me of an incident that occurred in the
Santa Ana mountains, in southern
California. Au eleven-year-old boy, a
member of a family making their way
to the coast, left the camp early one
morning to stilk deer. He found
tracks and had followed them until he
wus five or six miles from camp. In
reaching up on a rock he disturbed a
huge rattlesnake that was sunuoing
himself, and the snake without warn-
ing struck. wounding the boy on the
middle finger of his right hand. Know-
ing that unless prompt action was tak-
MT LT HLT LY LV LV LV EALY OLY LVL VOVEVELET
Claster’s Underselling Store.
in this paper.
VAVALWTYAVAVAVAVAVAVAVATYAVYAVAVAVaAaTVaTVvayw
en the wound would prove fatal, the
youth placed the finger over the muz-
zle of the guu and pulled the trigger.
Making a ligature above the wound to
stop the flow of blood, he killed the
snake and walked back to camp, where
he fainted. The tinger was blown off
close to his hand, but he recovered.” —
Exchange,
Not Appreciated.
Apropos of the “delusion deep rooted
in the minds of innumerable voters
that a man can only be ‘putting up for
parliament’ in order to better himself
one way or another” and that no sacri-
fice has to be made by the candidate
there ix the speech that was made by
Sir Richard Temple, who bad returned
poste haste from his duties in India,
arriving after his own contest had be-
gun. Sir Richard used words to the
following effect, “1 have traveled 8,000
miles and surrendered £5,000 a year
for the privilege of representing this
great constituency,” but the proper
sense of his generosity and public
spirit was entirely marred by a re-
mark from a loud voice in the crowd,
“Oh, what a —— fool you must be! —
Ian Malcolm in Cornhill Magazine.
Money and Politics.
In his reminiscences of Grover Cleve-
land George F. Parker tells a story of
the prodigal expenditures in politics.
Just Right Shoes for Men,
Dolly Madison and Patrician for Ladies,
Lenox Shoes for Misses and Children,
and Messenger Shoes for Boys.
SE
We will offer these Shoes at exceptionally low prices.
CLASTER’S UNDERSELLING STORE,
THE BIRTH PLACE OF LOW PRICES.
Crider's Exchange, Allegheny St.
A rich man who had been nibbling:
at the Democratic nomination for gov-
ernor of New York asked William C.
Whitney's advice. This is the advice:
“Of course you ought to run. Make
your preliminary canvass, and when
you have put in $200,000 you will have
become so much interested in it that
you wili feel like going ahead and
spending some money.”
Impossible.
Dr. Chargem- Your friend needs vig-
orous treatment. 1 never saw a man
in such a state of mental depression.
Can't you convince him that the fu-
ture holds some brightness for bim?
Sympathetic Friend—That is unfortu-
nately impossible. He has drawn bis
salary for three weeks ahead and spent
the money.—Exchange.
Police and Press.
It was Senator Evarts who paid this
compliment to the police of New York
at an annual dinner of the force: “As
compared with the press you exhibit a
striking contrast. You know a great
many things about our citizens that
you don’t tell, and the press tells u
great many things about our citizens
that it doesn't know.”
If wisdom was to cease throughout
the world no one would suspect him-
self of ignorance.
Dry Goods.
Having bought the entire Shoe stock of Henry Kline, consisting of
the following best grades of shoes such as
Watch for particulars
Bellefonte, Penna,
AT LT BY BIC AV LV AT EY LY ALY OLY LT LB T ONT LY AV AT AT AVAL
Tricks of Short Sight.
Not only the inanimate but the ani-
mate world presents itself in strange
forms to the myopic. Humanity, for
instance, is often revealed in some-
what inhuman guise. Thus, so far as
ocular demonstration goes, the world
to the shortsighted is peopled by men
and women us faceless, sometimes
even as headless, as the horseman of
legendary fame. Indoors myopic per-
sons get quite accustomed to talking
with persons who have neither eyes
nor nose, Out of doors the phenome-
pon is more striking because oftener
repeated. At quite a short distance
the face melts into the atmosphere
and becomes either a cloud or, like H.
G. Wells’ invisible man, a nothingness.
“1 see the hat and the figure, some-
times the beard. 1 see the walking
stick. If the hand is ungloved this
stick is waving miraculously a little
way from the sleeve edge, for the
hand, like the face, has vanished.”—
Strand Magazine,
Torture.
A cowboy stopped a stage full of
passengers and made them all wait
while he read a poem of thirty-twc
verses dedicated to his Mary Jape.
There are some things as bad as shoot-
ing.— Argonaut.
The best excuses are never given.—
French Proverb.
Dry Goods.
Bush Arcade Building,
Yeager's
Shoe Store
Rubbers have advanced
thirty per cent. in the last
six months but we can sell
you anything you may need
in the line of Rubbers at the
prices of 1908.
- Come to Us
For your Rubbers.
YEAGER'S SHOE STORE,
successor to Yeager & Davis,
BELLEFONTE, PA.
.
LYON & CO.
We are now
for early Spring Goods.
bargains.
for inventory and a big
Clearance Sale
Everything in Winter Goods
must be sold at once.
FURS AT BIG REDUCTIONS.
LADIES, MISSES and CHILDRENS COATS.
SWEATERS FOR MEN, WOMEN AND
CHILDREN AT REDUCED PRICES.
LADIES AND MISSES COAT SUITS, ALL
MUST GO AT CLEARANCE SALE PRICES.
Blankets and Comfortables
Blankets and Comfortables at reduced prices.
We Must Have the Room
Everything must be sold now.
Butterick Patterns and Books for sale at our store.
WATCH FOR OUR WHITE SALE.
getting ready
Watch our store for big
Allegheny St.
LYON & COMPANY,
4712
Bellefonte, Pa.