Bellefonte, Pa., January 19, 1912. | MY DAY. O Father, grant my every day may be —{ Cora W. Greenleaf THE LONELY ONE. Mr. Commissioner Sanders had lived so with native people that he had ab- Bed rot a lithe of their si ty. news. : Tide ifritae Sanders to an unjusti- “Master, I say to you that the Isisi are Quiet” provecisd sue of the spies, "and is no talk of war.” : “H'm” said Sanders, ungraciously; “and you?” He addressed the second nd said the man, “I went into the forest to the border, of the land, and there is no talk of war. Chiefs and headmen told me this.” "Truly you are a great spy,” scoffed Sanders; “and how came you to the chiefs and headmen? And how did they greet you? ‘Hail! secret spy of Sandi?’— He dismissed the men with a wave of his hand and, putting on his helmet, went down to the Haussa lines,where the blue- coated soldiers gambled in the shade of their neat white barracks. : The Haussa captain was making a potable medicine with the aid of a book of papers and a six-ounce bottle quinine sulphide. Sanders observed his shaking hand and clucked irritably. : : “There's trouble in the Isisi,” he said. “I can smell it. I don't know what it is —but there's devilry of sorts. How many men have you 2” ’ , including the lame ’uns,” said the Hausea Seer; ¢ JS swallowed a paperfu! of quinine with a grimace. Sanders tapped the toe of his boot with his thin ebony stick, and was thoughtful. “I may want 'em,” he said. “I'm going to find out what's wrong with these Isisi Eg By the little river that turns abruptly from the River of Spirits, Imgani, the Lonely One, built a house. He built it in proper fashion, stealing te wood from a village five away. v there had been many deaths owing age sickness, and it is the custom on the - Upper River that whenever a person dies the house wherein he dies shall die also. i No man takes shelter under the accurs- ed roof where-under his spirit sits brood- ing: his arms are broken and scattered on his shallow grave, and the cooking pots of his wives are there likewise. And by and by. under the combined in- fluences of wind and rain, the reed roof sags and sinks, the door-posts rot, elephant grass, coarse and strong shoots up be- tween crevices in wall and roof, then come a heavier rain and a heavier wind and the forest has wiped the foul spot clean. Imgani,who said he was of the N'gombi people and was afraid of no devils—at any rate of no Isisi devils—stole door- posts and native rope fearlessly. He stole them by night when the moon was behind the trees, and mocked the dead spirits, caliing them by evil and tantalizing names. Yet he went cautious- ly to work, for while he did not hold spirits in account, he was wholesomely respectful of the live Isisi, who would have put him to death had his sacri been detected, though strangely was the thing he feared least. So he accursed su and accursed jt “Master, I go to the village which is TE Sn path,” bw “What have you there?” “I see you are afraid of me, yet I want SR ————— He side. “They say in the lower country that | the Isisi sell men to the Arabi,” he said, musingly; “that is bad talk; you may go.” With another jerk of his head he dis- missed her. She had some little distance when he called her. "Root-eater,” he said, "if men ask who I be, you say that I am Imgani, The Lonely One, who is a prince among princes; also that I have killed many men in my day, so many that [I cannot count them. Also say that from my house, which I have built by the river to as far as a man can see in every way, is my kingdom, and let none stray thereon except to bring gifts in their hands, for I am very terrible and very jealous.” “Lord,” said the girl, “I will say all this,” and she went half running in the the village, leaving Imgani way. village had many young men please the girl who carried for she was a chief's daughter, was moreover fourteen, a mar- ble age. So when she came flying along the village street, halt hysterical in her fear, crying, babbling, incoherent, was not wanting Sympathy or ights valiant to Jive out the Ji ik young men spears sho danced before the chief and the chief's important daughter (how im- t she felt any woman of any race will tell you), and one of them, E’kebi, a man gifted with described from sunset to moonrise, w is roughly four exactly what would ha to when the men of the Isisi fell upon him. How his eyes would shrivel ed at her, his head cocked on g g : i arizedd. “That is good talk,” said the chief. “Yet since Sandi is our master and has ies everywhere do not shed blood, for smell of blood is carried farther than a man can see. And Landi is very devil- ish on this question of killing. More- over, this Lonely One is a stranger, and if we catch him we may sell him to the pray, who will give us cloth and gin for Having heard all this they sacrificed a young goat and marched. They came upon the house of Imgani, but the Lonely One was not there, for he was trapping beasts in the forest, so they burned his house, up-rooted his poor garden, and, being joined by many other Isisi people who had followed at a respectful dis- tance, lest Imgani’s estimate of his own ess were justified by results, they 1d high revel until of a sudden the sun came up over the middle island and all the little stars in the sky went out. . Imgani saw all this, leaning on his spears in the shadow of the forest, but was content to be a spectator. For, he reasoned, if he went out against them they would attempt to kill him, or beat him with rods, and that his high spirit could not endure. He saw the flames lick away the house he had built with such labor. : "They are foolish people,” he mused, “for they burn their own, and perhaps the spirits of the dead .will be displeased and give them boils.” When all that was left of his habitation was a white heap of ash, a dark red glow, and a hazy wisp of smoke, Imgani turned his face to the forest. All day long he walked, halting to eat the fish Ze carried, and at night-time he came u was called O'fari. He came through the village street, with his shoulders squared, his head erect, swinging his spears fa- right, and the villagers crowding to the doors of their huts, put their clenched uckles to their mouths and said, “O ko!” which meant that they were impres- g death | sed. gE 3% eg °F st 8 ; J gEsgi fi SE i I Bf EE i i like the sun.” He went on, leaving the messenger fill- ed with thought. True to his promise Imgani He came back to find that there was a ver In progress, the subject of the a i unfortunate relative by eT al vite. it i" 4 was me, being as great a a his my wife.” “Master,” said the poor relation hum- bly, “I entreated him to return, but he was a man of great pride, and patient logo chit TH ny was a father, whoever he was—and no man i : E { another Isisi village which | neck mously. He looked neither to the left nor to the | i {on 4 ! : i} | rl E 5 Hi fj Eg H 5 £ : ni £5 : i Hi : : | 5 { 5 : very . With tender care he un- and disclosed a sheet of official i scrawled words in note with a few the Paton of Mr. Commissioner | Sanders. They ran: “To all sub-commissioners, police of- ficers, commanders of Haussa posts. Ar- rest and detain the bearer if found in any other territory than the Isisi.” There was a history attached to this singular document. It had to do with an unauthorized raid upon certain Ochori villages and a subsequent trial at head- | "When I kill white men | also kill their | quarters, where a chief, all aquiver with apprehension, listened to a terse but intel. ligible prophecy as to what fate awaited him if he put foot out of his restricted dominion. Imgani took the paper in his hand and was interested. He turned it about, rub. bed the writing lightly with his fingers to see whether it was permanent, and re- turned it to the chief. “That is very wonderful, though 1 do | river, swimming far toward the middle | not fear magic except an especial kind such as is practiced by a certain witch | he swam back to shore, let the sun dry doctor of my father's,” he said, "nor do | know any government which can govern me."’ After which he proceeded to tell them of his father, and his legions and wives and various other matters of equal in. terest. “I do not doubt that you will under- stand me,” he said. “I am a Lonely One, hating the company of men, who are as two days ahead of time, and Ifiba and | changeable as the snow upon the moun- tains. Therefore I have left my house with my wives, who were faithful as women go, and I have taken with me no legion, since they are my father's.” chief was puzzled. “Why you are lonely I cannot tell,” he said, “but cer: tainly you did right to leave your fath- er's legions. This is a great matter whice needs a palaver of elder men.” And he ordered the lokali to be sounded and the elders of the village to be as- sembled. They came bringing their own carved stools and sat about the thatched shelter where the chief sat in his presidency. Again Imgani told his story: it was about fifty wives, and legions of warriors'| as countless as the sand on the river's, beach, and the trustful Isisi listened and believed. “And I need this,” said Imgani in his peroration: “a little house built on the very edge of the river in such a place that no path passes me, for I am very' lonely by nature, and a great hater of men.” Imgani went to live in the clearing Na- ture had made for him and in a hut erected by his new-found friends. Other hospitalities he refused. “I have no wish for wives,” he stated, “being full of mighty plans to recover my kingdom from evil men who are my father’s councillors.” . Lonely he was in very truth, for ndhel saw him except on very special occa-' sions. It was his practice to go hunting by night and to sleep away the hot days. Sometimes, when the red ball of the sun down behind the trees on the western bank of the river the villagers saw the straight blue film of his smoke as he cooked his evening meal: some- times a homeward-bound huntsman saw him slipping silently through the thin edge of e forest on his way to a kill. ey called him the Silent One and he enjoyed a little fame. » More than this, he enjoyed the confi- dence of his hosts. ; The Isisi country is within reach of the great river down which strangely shaped boats come by night empty and return, by night full of to “He does not ” said the slaver to his lieutenant. “Find out where this man’s house is; £ i f g i i g i i i : 2 : E é i g | E i 3 | : E ! g : ; i I Li gE 7 £8 i i i 5 : ft : h 5 7 i ; 8 he Fig ih 8.8 gs i i h i £% sf I not | iE £3 z i ; & E : z : ] it E : : 3 g £ g border |Y. All correspondenc: tossed the buck to one side, threateningly, and across his his neck The sun the world rosy, but he sat talking with great force, Im- “So, master,” he concluded, “we will : i ly, and we shall be a great people.” Imgani nodded his head wisely. “That is true,” he said. “People who i kill white men must be greatly honored, | because all the other nations will say, | ‘Behold, these are the people who kill i white men." ” "And when he is dead,” the messenger ! went on, “many young men will go to | the boat that smokes and slay all who ; are with him.” { “That is wise also,” said Imgani. friends.” He discussed his deeds to some length and with great detail. { After the man had gone Imgani made a | meal of fish and manioc, polished the i steel blades of his spears with wet sand, | dried them carefully with grass, and laid | himself in the shade of the hut to sleep. | He was awake in the early part of the ‘afternoon, and went plunging into the | stream with great, strong strokes. Then | en, and dressed himself in his leopard : skin. | He came to the village slowly and ! found it agitated. More especially so { was the chief, for news had arrived that | Sandi was coming that night, | now his steamer was rounding the bend { of the river. | A plan had miscarried. Sanders was i M'bwka were away on an expedition, and | there was no time to substitute unseason- | ed assassins. The steamer drifted broadside to the shore, one stern wheel revolving lazily, and then t saw, Imgani among the rest, that the decks were crowded with soldiers, impassive brown men in blue uniforms and fezes. A plank bumped down, and holding their rifles high, the soldiers came patter- ing to the shore. With them was a white officer—but not Sandi. It was a brusque white man. “Lord, I am that man,” said the stout i chief, all aflutter. “Take that man.” A sergeant of Haussas gra the chief and deftly swung him round: a cor- poral of Haussas snapped a pair of hand- cuffs on his wrist. “Lord,” he whined, "why this shame?" “Because you are a great thief,” said the Haussa officer, “a provoker of war and a dealer in slaves.” “If any man says that, it is a lie,” said the chief, “for no government man has witnessed such abominations.” Imgani forward. “Chief,” he said, "I have seen it.” "You are a great liar,” fumed the port- iy capita, trembling with rage, “and San- ! di, who is my friend, will not believe | you, | Sum Sandi said Imgani, smiling..— i By Edgar Wallace, in Harper's Weekly: Your Opportunity. Persons suffering from chronic forms of disease are invited to consult Dr. Pierce, by letter, free of charge. Dr. Pierce has tor more than thirty years been chief consulting physician of the Invalids’ Hotel and Surgical Institute, Buffalo, N. Y. Surrounded by nearly a score of assistant physicians he has treat- ed with their aid hundreds of thousands of chronic cases of disease with a record of ninety-eight per cent. of cures. Almost all the cases treated by Dr. Pierce are ex- treme cases. Many times people write who have been given up by several physi- cians and all their friends as incurable. These people are almost always cured w Dr. Pierce's treatment and advice. If u are sick write to Dr. Pierce, Invalids' otel and Surgical Institute, Buffalo, N. is absolutely Private and confidential. Write without and without fee. i } 5 5 5 : 5 | g : : 5 g : iis : E g 3 | gE g 8 g : g : 14 7 £ : : £ of | § i kL f if : g : : | i E : § gg of 53% z i : I gfe iL I i ! 1] ; ie 2s i t li i : | | i a3 3 3 sh 8 = g i i 8! i i g £ Zz i a ; g is 5 : i i BE i . | flicts and the victories, | and even | the spears, noting | because of your pride, knowing your | General Booth’s Secret. ; "When I was in London,” said Dr. ). ' Wilbur in a recent sermon, “I ‘ received word that if I was at the Salva- i tion Army headquarters at ten o'clock sharp, I might meet General Booth. 1 | hurriedly made my way there, for he was to leave for the Continent in a very few minutes. “When I looked into his face and saw him brush back his hair from his brow, ! heard him speak of the nals and con- said: ‘General Booth, tell me what has been the secret "+ of your success all the way through.” “He hesitated a second, and | saw the | tears come into his eves and cteal down i his cheeks, and then he said: “I will tell { you the secret. God has had all there ‘was of me. There have been men with i greater brains than |, men with greater opportunities; but from the day I got the poor of London on my heart, and a vision of what Jesus Christ could do with the poor of London, | made up my mind that 1 God would have ali or William Booth there was. And if there is anything of power in the Salvation Army today, it is because God as all the adoration of my heart, all the power of my will, and ali the influence ot my life.’ “Then he looked at me a minute, and I soon learned another secret ot his pow- er. He said: "When do you go?” | said: ‘In five minutes.” He said, ‘Pray’; and | dropped on iny knees with General Booth by my side, and prayed a stammering and stuttering prayer. Then he talked with God about the outcast of London, the poor of New York, the lost of China, the great world lying in wickedness; and : then he opened his cyes as if he were looking into the very face of Jesus, and with sobs he prayed God's blessing upon every mission worker, every evangelist, every minister, every Christian. With | his eyes still overflowing with tears, he me good by and started away, past | eighty years of age, to preach on the tinent. “And | learned from William Booth that the greatness of a man's power is ' the measure of his surrender. It is not i a question of who you are, but of whether God controls you.— Exchange. . —Sixty-five dancers from all parts of England are assembled in Stratford-on- ' Avon, Eng., says a Monitor special, and | are taking part in the English folk dance ! song revival. The success of this | midwinter festival is a pleasant surprise and is a good indication of the vitality of , the movement in England. There are | teachers from elementary schools, who | give part of their vacations to the ac- | quiring of a better knowledge of old | country dances, being anxious to revive | their use among the villagers in their borhood. i ' In many old villages around Stratford- , on-Avon, in other parts of Warwickshire i and the Midlands these old dances have never died out, and from the people in , these parts Cecil Sharpe has been col- | lecting carols and local songs, and, in | many instances, dances which show the ' most intricate steps and measures. The dancing is made a most serious business in Stratford. No easy-going methods . are countenanced. Everything must be | done correctly, from the gay riot of a of the sword dance, where the swords are | finally brought together in rhythmic measure and form a cirtle amazingly perfect and exact. One delightful morris jig was discov- | ered at Sherborne, that beautiful little Dorsetshire town, so redolent of the England of the middle ages. To judge by it, the people of that day were no baffling backstep, which has been known as the shuffle and which requires a great deal of rehearsing. The evolution and not the actual steps are, however, the principal charm in most of these west country dances, where the repetition of effects by numbers of performers is so attractive. Treating “Sick” Pearls. Pearls, the most capricious of all gems, are curiously susceptible to influ- ences, they being affected even by the physical condition of those who wear them. When a pearl becomes “sick” or "sad" it is RaceSsary to take measures to restore to it its former luster and brilliancy, and this is done in a number s capable of turning out disks of felt, such as are geatn)cus y “Who is chief here?” he said, crossly. men and women here, many of them ' | country dance to the intricate movements ' mean dancers, for it has a wonderful and | FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN DAILY THOUGHT. A good laugh is sunshine in the home. — Thack, fray, An exhibition of spring clothes by a New York house, shows a good deal of mohair used, which is uncommonly like Irish poplin in the silky weave. The manufacturers will evidently advocate it a good deal next spring and it deserves | popularity. It is far more wearable than linen because it does not crush and wrin- kle so easily and it is cool and gives good service. _ Paquin sends over a two-piece suit of it in a rather wonderful tone of prune purple. The skirt is just a little over a yard wide and is straight in its lines from a slightly high waist. are two plaits, small ones, down the middle of front and back, but no other trimming. The blouse is of black satin. The two pieces are joined by an ornate braiding at the high waist line and there is a touch of china blue embroidéry across the lower edge of a V-shaped chemisette ' of white net. The coat is hip length, is widely open at front in a straight line from the shoul- ders and the two sides are joined at the waist by a two-inch band of the poplin fastening at each end. There is rather a large collar and the back is slightly gath- ered into the peplum, which runs up to a point about three inches above the waist ine. . Quite a good deal of old material was shown r a new name. Terry cloth sounds well, but there is no distinguising the fact that it is common garden Turk- ish toweling and a thin quality at that. There was one white frock shown made of crepe Francaise with a large collar of white terry cloth caught in front with huge green leather buttons and long leather buttonholes. Around the waist was a white belt with a green button and ornamental buttonholes that resembled a . belt buckle. , And, by the way, these novelties are already over here from Paris and they are quite fetching. The lic has not yet seen them in any quantities, but the im- porters are very much interested in them. They are of leather in the shape of orna- _ ments and consist of a large buckle with ' tongues of colored leather coming from buttonholes in the middie of the button. That sounds complicated, but you will know them when you see any of this description. They are to be attached to any kind of a gown or suit. Two of them are on the front of a coat orjsometimesfat the . back. One is used in the middle of the - skirt at the waist line back or front; again, you see them on sleeves, #nd I have no doubt they will make their ap- . pearance on turbans, for you can't keep ' anything off a hat these days. The same person who invited them has also sent ‘over a little half belt made of supple | patent leather with these ornaments in | the middle, and this is to be attached to ' the back of a coat or the back of the high ! waist line on a skirt. There are also whole belts of green. They are not wide | enough to cover an oid-time joining of a skirt belt and a blouse, so they are evi- dently intended purely for ornament. Some of the other teatures brought out in this spring exhibition were a material called rmo in serge weave; a silk serge suit with n wonderful blouse of lace showing the new long drapery from the bust falling over the waist line; a queer shade of yeilow mohair made into a coat | suit with revers of white terry cloth, and ' a tailored suit of raspberry colored terry cloth. If you dress smartly, says an exchange, ; you will have at least one of the street ' frocks that button at one side of the front all the way to the hem, and if the skirt | is scant you may leave a couple of the | buttons at the bottom: unfastened, which | both allows freer steps and introduces , the foot opening in a clearer way. i — This is the season of the year when we are plunged into a very debauch of | clothes, for the advent of winter brings | forth a diversity of new things modi Of course the foundation of all good dressing lies in the corset, and the wom- gh igh Shi) dressed’ takes precau ng good stays. Fashions in this line change almost as often as they do in our outer garments, and to have a fashionable figure one must have a newly fashioned corset. Just, at present L.a Mode adheres more firmly than ever to a perfectly straight rom below the waist. eve oe straight as the | the stream of a waterfall. Of course, it takes a great deal of skill to fashion a corset of this kind. Those There is nothing in the way of inform- en than an Oi shioned andy Puig Age cannot Bly alee its ty. rather to forget how 2 § al 22 offre £ gz or i 8 § 8 i el 2 i e i H 5 z 2 g ; Ii Eg =2 | 4 i : g | -
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