Donor Wan Bellefonte, Pa., July 24, 1914. The Story of Waitstill Baxter [Continued from page 6, Col. 4] elected to that relationship by the common consent of the community. their fitness being established by great age, by decided individuality or eccen- tricity of character, by uncommon lov- ableness or by the possession of an abundant wit and humor. There was no formality about the thing. Certain women were always called “Aunt Su- kie,” or ‘Aunt Hitty.,” or what not. while certain men were distinguished as “Uncle Rish,” or “Uncle Pel,” with- out previous arrangement or the con- sent of the high contracting mrties. Such a couple were Cephas Cole's fa- ther and mother. Aunt Abby and Uncle Bart. Bartholomew Cole’s trade was that of a joiner. As for Aunt Abby's. it can only be said that she made all trades her own by sovereign right of investigation. and what she did not know about her neighbor’s occupations was unlikely to be discovered on this side of Jordan. One of the villagers declared that Aunt Abby and her neighbor, Mrs. Abel Day. had argued for an hour before they could make a bargain about the method of dissemi- nating a certain important piece of news, theirs by exclusive right of dis- covery and prior possession. Mrs. Day offered to give Mrs. Cole the privilege of Saco hill and Aunt Betty Jack’s, she herself to take Guide Board and Town House hills. Aunt Abby quickly proved the injustice of this decision. saying that there were twice as many fam- ilies living in Mrs. Day’s chosen terri- tory as there were in that allotted to her, so the river road to Milliken’s mills was grudgingly awarded to Aunt Abby by way of compromise, and the ladies started on what was a tour of mercy in those days—the furnishing of a subject of discussion for long, quiet evenings. Uncle Bart’s joiner's shop was at the foot of Guide Board hill on the River- boro side of the bridge, and it was the pleasantest spot in the whole village. The shop itself had a cheery look, with its weather stained shingles, its smail square windows and its hospitable door, half as big as the front side of the building. The step was an old millstone too worn for active service. and the piles of chips and shavings on each side of it had been there for so many years that sweet williams, clove pinks and purple phlox were growing in among them in the most irresponsi- ble fashion, while a morning glory vine had crept up and curled around a long handled rake that had been standing against the front of the house since early spring. There was an air of cozy and amiable disorder about the place that would have invited friendly confabulation even had not Uncle Bart's white head, honest, ruddy face and smiling welcome coaxed you in be- fore you were aware. A fine Nodhead apple tree shaded the side windows, and underneath it reposed all summer a bright blue sleigh. for Uncle Bart al- ways described himself as being “plagued for shed room" and kept things as he liked at the shop, having a “p’ison neat” wife who did exactly the opposite at his house. The seat of the sleigh was all white now with scattered fruit blossoms, and one of Waitstill's earliest remein- brances was of going downhill with lien fpf = a fe p= CEA Er &N A A 4 BIE er TY A Caypuseh¥ J y ail . ak “A shop or a barn has saved many a man’s life and reason.” Patty toddling at her side, of Uncle Bart’s lifting them into the sleigh and permitting them to sit there and eat the ripe red apples that had fallen from the tree. Uncle Bart's son. Cephas (Patty’s secret adorer), was a painter by trade and kept his pots and cans and brushes in a little outhouse at the back. while Uncle Bart himself stood every day behind his long join- er's bench almost knee deep in shav- ings. How the children loved to play with the white, satiny rings. making them into necklaces, hanging them to their ears and weaving them into wreaths. Wonderful houses could al- ways be built in the corner of the shop out of the little odds and ends and *“nubbins” of white pine, and Un- cle Bart was ever ready to cut or saw a special piece needed for some great purpose. The sound of the plane was sweet music in the old joiner's ears. 1 don’t hardly know how I'd ‘a’ made out if “1 had to work in a mill," he said cunfidentially to Cephas ‘*‘The noise of a saw goin’ all day, coupled with your mother’s tongue mornin’s an’ evenin’s, would ’a’ been too much for my weak head. I'm a quiet man, Ce- phas, a man that needs a peaceful shop where he can get away from the comforts of home now and then with- out shirkin’ his duty nor causin’ gos- sip. If you should ever marry, Ce- phas—which don’t look to me likely without you pick out a dif’rent girl— I'd advise you not to keep your stock ©’ paints in the barn or the shed, for it’s altogether too handy to the house and the women folks. Take my advice and have a place to yourself, even if it’s a small one. A shop or a barn has saved many a man's life and rea- son, Cephas, for it's ag'in a woman's nature to have you underfoot in the house without bectorin’ you. Choose a girl same ’s you would a borse that you want to hitch up into a span: °t ain’t every two that'll stan’ together without kickin’. When you get the right girl keep out of her way con- sid’able an’ there’ll be less wear an’ tear.” CHAPTER VIL Cephas Speaks. T was June and the countryside was so beautiful it seemed as if no one could be unhappy, how- ever great the cause. That was what Waitstill Baxter thought as she sat down ‘on the millstone step for a word with the old joiner, her best and most understanding friend in all the village. “I've come to do my mending here with you,” she said brightly, as she took out her well filled basket and threaded her needle. “Isn't it a won- derful morning” Nobody could look the world in the face and do a wrong thing on such a day. could they, Uncle Bart?” The meadows were a waving mass of golden buttercups; the shallow water at the river's edge just below the shop was blue with spikes of arrow weed; a bunch of fragrant water lilies, guth- ered from the mill pond’s upper levels, lay beside Waitstill’'s mending basket, and every foot of roadside and field within sight was swaying with long stemmed white and gold daisies. The June grass. the friendly. humble, com- panionable grass, that no one ever praises as they do the flowers, was a rich emerald green, a velvet carpet fit for the feet of the angels themselves. And the elms and maples! Was there ever such a year for richness of foli- age? And‘'the sky, was it ever so blue or so clear, so far away, or so com- pletely like heaven, as you looked at its reflection in the glassy surface of the river? “Yes, it’s a pretty good day,” allowed Uncle Bart judicially as he took a squint at his T-square. *I don’t know’s I should want to start out an’ try to beat it! The Lord can make a good many kinds o’ weather in the course of a year, but when he puts his mind on to it an’ kind 0’ gives him- self a free hand he can turn out a June mornin’ that must make the dev- il sick to his stomach with envy! All the same, Waity, my cow ain't Dbe- havin’ herself any better’'n usual. She’s been rampagin’ since sun up. I've seen mother chasin’ her out 0! Mis’ Day’s garden patch twice a’ready! It seems real good an’ homey to see you settin' there sewin’ while I'm workin’ at the bench, Cephas is down to the store, so I s’pose your father's off somewheres?” Perhaps the June grass was a little greener, the buttercups yellower, the foliage more lacey, the sky bluer, be- cause Deacon Baxter had taken his luncheon in a pail under the wagon seat and departed on an unwilling journey to Moderation, his object be- ing to press the collection of some accounts toc long overdue. There was something tragic in the fact, Waitstill thought, that whenever ber father left the village for a whole day, life at once grew brighter, easier, more hope- One could breathe freely, speak ful. one’s heart out, believe in the future, when father was away. The girls had harbored many delight- ful plans at early breakfast. Saturday, Patty could catch little Rod Boynton if he came to the bridge on errands as usual. and if Ivory could spare him for an hour at noon they would take their luncheon and eat it together on the river bank as Patty had promised him. At the last mo- ment, however, Deacon Baxter had turned around in the wagon and said: “Patience. you go down to the store | and have a regular bhousecleanin' in the stockroem. Git Cephas to lift what you can’t lift yourself, move every- thing in the place. sweep and dust it. scrub the flcor, wash the winder and | make room for the new stuff that they'll bring up from Milltown ’bout noon. If you have any time left over put new papers on the shelves out | front and clean up and 8x the show winder. Don’t stand roumd gabbin’ with Cephas. and see't he don’t waste time that’s paid for by me. Tell him he might clean up the terbaccer staing round the stove. black it and cover it up for the summer if he ain’t too busy servin’ cust'mers.” “The whole day spoiled!” wailed Pa ty, flinging herself down in the kitch- en rocker. ‘*‘Father’s powers of inven- tion beat anything I ever saw! That stockroom could have been cleaned any time this month, and it’s too heavy work for me anyway; it spoils my hands grubbing around those nasty. sticky, splintery boxes and barrels. In- stead of being out of doors I've got to be shut up in that smelly, rummy, to- baccoy, salt-fishy, pepperminty place with Cephas Cole! He won't have a pleasant morning, I can tell you! I shall snap his head off every time he speaks to me.” As it was | ; “So I would!” Waitstill answered , eomposedly. “Everything is so clear- ly his fault that I certainriv would work off my temper on Cephas! Still, I can think of a way to make matters come out right. I've got a great basket of mending that must be done, and you remember there's a choir rehearsal for the new anthem this afternoon, but anyway I can help a little on the clean- ing. Then you can make Rodman do a few of the odd jobs; it will be a nov- elty to him. And Cephas will work his fingers to the bone for you, as you well know, if you treat him like a hu- man being.” “All right!” cried Patty joyously, her mood changing in an instant. ‘““There’s Rod coming over the bridge now. Toss {| me my gingham apron and the scrub- bing brush and.the pail and the tin of | soap and the cleaning cloths. Let's | See. The broom’s down there, so I've . got everything. If 1 wave a towel | from the store pack up luncheon for ree. You come down, and bring | your mending. Then when you see how I'm getting on we can consult. | ’m going to take the 10 cents I've saved and spend it in raisins. I can get a good many if Cephas gives me wholesale price, with family discount subtracted from that. Cephas would treat me to candy in a minute, but if I let him we’d have to ask him to the : picnic. Goodby!” And the volatile creature darted down the hill singing “There’ll be something in heaven for children to do” at the top of her healthy young lungs. The waving signal a little later on showed that Rodman could go to the picnic, the fact being that he was hav- ing a holiday from 11 o'clock until 2, and Ivory was going to drive to the bridge at noon anyway, so his permis- sion could then be asked. Patty’s mind might have been thought entirely on her ugly task as she swept and dusted and scrubbed that morning. but the reverse was true. Mark Wilson had gone away without saying goodby to her. This was not surprising perhaps. as she was about as much sequestered in her hill- top prison as a Turkish beauty in a harem. Neither was it astonishing that Mark did not write to her. He never had written to her, and as her father always brought home the very infrequent letters that came to the family Mark knew that any senti- mental correspondence would be fraught with danger. No, everything was probably just as it should be. and yet—well, Patty had expected during the last three weeks that something would happen to break up the monoto- ny of her former existence. She hard- ly knew what it would be. but the kiss dropped so lightly on her cheek by Mark Wilson still burned in remem- brance and made her sure that it would ! have a sequel or an explanation. Mark's sister Ellen and Phil Perry were in the midst of some form of lovers’ quarrel, and during its progress Phil was paying considerable attention to Patty at Sabbath school and prayer meeting, occasions, it must be confess- ed, only provocative of very indirect and long distance advances. Cephas Cole, to the amazement of every one but his (constitutionally) exasperated mother, was *‘toning down’ the ell of the family mansion, mitigating the lively yellow and putting another fresh coat of paint on it, for no conceivable reason save that of pleasing the eye of a certain capricious, ungrateful young hussy, whe would probably say, when her verdict was asked, that she didn't see any particular difference in it one way or another. Trade was not especially brisk at the deacon’s emporium this sunny June Saturday morning. Cephas may have possibly lost a customer or two by leaving the store vacant while he toiled and sweated for Miss Patience Baxter in the stockroom at the back, overhanging the river, but no man i alive could see his employer’s lovely daughter tugging at a keg of shingle nails without trying to save her from - a broken bacg, although Cephas could have watched his mother move the house and barn without feeling the slightest anxiety in her behalf. If he could ever get the “heft” of the *‘dog- goned” cleaning out of the way so that Patty’s mind could be free to enter- tain his proposition; could ever secure one precious moment of silence when she was not slatting and banging. pusi- ing and pulling things about, her head and ears out of sight under a snelf and an irritating air of absorption about her whole demeanor; if that mo- ment of silence could ever, under Prov- idence, be simultaneous with the ab- sence of customers in the front shop. Cephas intended to offer himself to Patience Baxter that very morning. Once, during a temporary lull in the rear, he started to meet his fate when Rodman Boynton followed him into the back room, and the boy was at once set to work by Patty. who was the most consummate slave driver in the state of Maine. After half an hour there was another heaven sent chance, when Rodman went up to Untle Bart's shop with a message for Waitstill, but. just then, in came Bill Morrill, a boy of twelve, with a request for a gallon of molasses, and would Cephas lend him a stone jug over Sunday. for his mother had hers “soakin’ out in soap suds ‘cause ‘twa’n’t smellin’ jest right.” Bill’s message given, he hurried up the road on another errand. promising to call for the molasses later. The minutes dragged by. and again there was perfect quiet in the stock- rcom. As the door opened, Cephas. taking his last chance, went forward to meet Patty. who was turning down the skirt of her dress. taking the cloth off her head. smoothing her hair and tying on a clean white rufiled apron, in which she looked as pretty as a pink. “Patty.” stammered Cephas, seizing his golden opportunity. “Patty. keep your mind on me for a minute. I’ve put a new coat o’ paint on the ell just to please you. Won't you get married and settle down with me”? 1 love you 80 I can’t eat nor drink nor tend store nor nothin’{” “Oh, TI—I—couldn't, Cephas, thank you. I just couldn’t—don’t ask me!” cried Patty, as nervous as Cephas him- self now that her first offer had really come. “I’m only seventeen, and I don’t feel like settling down, Cephas, and fa- ther wouldn’t think of letting me get married.” “Don’t play tricks on me, Patty, and keep shovin’ me off so an’ givin’ wrong reasons,” pleaded Cephas. “What's the trouble with me? I know mother’s temper’s onsartin, but we never need go into the main house daytimes, and father’d allers stand up ag’in her if she didn’t treat you right. I’ve got a good trade. and father has $100 0’ my savin’s that I can draw out tomorrer if you’ll have me.” “I can’t, Cephas. Don't move—stay where you are. No, don’t come any nearer. I’m not fond of you that way, and, besides—and, besides”— Her blush and her evident embar- rassment gave Cephas a new fear. “You ain't promised a’ready, be you,” he asked anxiously, “when there ain’t a feller anywheres around that’s ever stepped foot over your father’s doorsill but jest me?” “I haven’t promised anything or any- body,” Patty answered sedately, gain- fng her self control by degrees, “but I won’t deny that I'm considering— that’s true!” “Considerin’ who?” turning pale. “Oh—several, if you must know the truth;” and Patty’s tone was cruel in its jauntiness. “Several!” The word did not sound like ordinary work-a-day Riverboro English in Cephas’ ears. He knew that “several” meant more than one, but he was too stunned to define the term properly in its present strange connection. [Continued next week.] asked Cephas, CASTORIA Bears the signature of Chas.H.Fletcher. in use for over thirty years, and The Kind You Have Always Bought. EE ——— ES — They re Shades give you complete air, which makes sleep o 59-11-1y Pp thought you’d lost with childhood. When it’s blazing outside, you're cool. When it’s sticky inside, you have the “I want food” feeling Air gives. joys without its inconveniences! The Potter-Hoy Hardware Co. Bellefonte, Pa. Hardware, 7% Zw ? Ph hudor i Porch Shades Street Temperature Up? Porch Temperature is Down—When the VUDORS are. A porch that is a porch should be cool—where you can eat delightful meals and even sleep. Vudor Porch rivacy and help you to cool nights, the deep sleep you Get Summer's SIT Many a woman has to lie down sev- eral times a day because she “feels faint” or has a “spell of dizziness.” Perhaps she tries to “do something” for her trou- ble. Dizziness is in the head, and the head is treated. The faintness seems to be caused by the heart and the heart is attended to. But the condition grows no better. Women in such a case who have used Dr. Pierce’s Favorite Prescrip- tion have wondered to find dizziness and faintness both disappear. Why? “Favorite Prescription” is a medicine for diseases of the womanly organs! Exactly. And it removes headache, dizziness, fainting spells, backache, and many other ills, be- cause these are caused by the derange- ment or disease of the delicate feminine organism. That is why “Favorite Pre- scription” makes weak women strong and sick women well. ——There is no comparison between the WATCHMAN and some other papers that cost you just as much. ——If you always want to have the best take the WATCHMAN and you'll have it. Little Hotel Wilmot. The Little Hotel Wilmot - IN PENN SQUARE One minute from the Penna Ry. Station PHILADELPHIA We have quite a few customers from Bellefonte. We can take care of sone more. They'll like us. A good room for $1. If you bring your wife, $2. Hot and cold running water in every room 59-9-6m ————— Shoes. Clothing. Hats and Caps. The Ryerson W. Jennings Co. Don’t Miss The Fauble Reduction Sale ALL SUITS One-Fourth Off. STRAW HATS One-Half Price. Panama Hats One-Fourth Off. TH Saturday, E SALE ENDS Aug. 1st "AUBLE’S BEEZER’S GEORGE A. BEEZER, Propr, 59-3-tf Also agent for Chalmers Cars. STUDEBAKER SIX $1,575 ni af” = Es You want a “SIX” for its puculiar and inimitable “SIX” smoothness. And you want that “SIX” which offers most for the money. Therefore, you want a “SIX” whose important parts are manufactured and not purchased You want no lesser standard than the Studebaker standard of manufacturing. You want no electric lighting and starting system less efficient than the Wagner-Studebaker. You want ample carrying capacity for seven passengers. Amd how can you look further, when you find ail these things in the Studebaker “SIX”—Linked to the lowest price in the world? FOUR TOURING CAR......... SIX TOURING CAR............ n25” TOURING CAR........... $1050 . GARAGE, Bellefonte, Pa —
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