Demorraiic alfa sro! : Bellefonte, Pa., February 19, 1915. HER OWN TRUE WAY. “John, you must never think of it— I know my place. I also know that no mother-in-law can live in peace with a son’s wife.” “But Nellie says that is all non- gense. She wants you.” “I don’t doubt she says that out of courtesy and respect, but you two must do as your dead father and I did, begin to live on your own resources unhampered by any meddling or un- welcome relative.” So John Marcy reluctantly left the lonely old woman he loved just as he did when a boy. It was 25 miles to the new home to which he had led Nellie a bride a month agone. They had spent a month in traveling. Now they were settling down to practical housekeeping. : “Qh, dear!” greeted him in a grieved tone as he reached home that even- ing. “You didn’t bring mother with you?” “She wouldn’t come, dear.” “Not even for a visit?” pouted Nel lie. “Not even for that. Tell you, Nel lie, you're the sweetest little woman in the world, but mother says it would be wrong for her to intrude on you, and wrong for you to encourage her.” “Why, John! I love your mother as if she were my own.” But John recalled what his wise old mother had told him. He had great faith in her mature judgment. He had made up his mind to follow her advice. He pretty definitely told Nellie so, and she pouted over it and shed a few tears. “All the time I have planned to have mother here,” she declared, al most sobbing. “I suppose you think I'm just saying that to please you. I'm not. Mother shall come—see if ghe don’t!” = “Never!” asserted John, thinking he knew best. “All right; wait and see,” observed Nellie. “Just the grandest dear in the world, my John,” whispered Nellie to herself. “As to his mother, she’s WEE TEC ERE He Was Not Quite Himself. an angel. They've thought of nothing but me, selfish little me, and the old time-worn tradition that a son’s wife can’t get along with the mother. Yes, she shall come and—she shall stay!” John sat at the tea table after the meal three evenings later. not quite himself. Nellie secretly Yeiled the mischief in her eyes as she poted his mood. “I say,” observed John, “we've had codfish for three nights.” “Yes,” nodded Nellie. “I bought a lot of it so we wouldn't run out. Why, John?” mn i A F “Well—er, do you call it fried, or boiled, or roasted?” “It’s a kind of fricassee.” “H’m!” mumbled John. “Suppose werhave a change. Baker's bread, too. Mother always had biscuits.” “Yes, John, dear, and beautiful ones, too. I'll cook some.” » Which Nellie did. And the next evening, after choking on two of them, when she was not looking John walked to the window, threw a third biscuit wrathfully at a passing dog and sent the animal off yelping as if he had been struck by a cannon ball. “Bread tomorrow, John,” announced Nellie, never losing her domestic op timism. “I've found a lovely recipe.” “All right—don’t make any more biscuits, though.” “Why, John?” “Well, you see—that is, I like bread best.” “] gee!” said Nellie, biting her tongue to keep from laughing out right. John came home the next evening to find Nellie standing in dismay out: gide the kitchen window. Upon ite gill rested a great pan. Overflowing it on all sides were streams and trick: lings of sticky, pasty dough. It bad painted the sill and the side of the house. It lay in wads and chunks across the lilac bushes. There was a pool of it on the grass. “Why, Nellie! What is the mat ter?” questioned her amazed helpmeet. “The bread, John. I put in only four cakes of yeast and that is what it did. The flour can’t have been any good.” John groaned. After supper he wan- dered restlessly about the house. When he talked it was about home and mother. ; The next day, as Nellie passed fro He was | | the kitchen to the dining room, she saw a tramp just leaving through the : open front door, her husband’s second | best overcoat under his arm. Nellie did not run after him. She | only smiled. She was, however, sober- , taced enough when she told the an- | noyed John of the incident. | “You see, John,” she explained | plaintively, “I'm all alone here. I ' can’t watch every part of the house | all of the time.” i ily. | was making a great effort to muster i up the courage to say something. i “Yes, I see,” said John rather sulk- | Then Nellie discerned that he | “Look here, Nellie,” he blurted out | finally. “You're a sweet little woman and all that, but a fellow must eat.” murely. “I don’t want to offend you, but you don’t know how to cook.” “No, John, but can’t I learn?” “Who from?’ asked John hopefully. Nellie in a forlorn way. : “I do,” cried John, “mother. We'll have her here to teach you for a month.” “No, John,” dissented Nellie delib- erately. “Rh?” “Not for a month. to stay, yes.” “But—" * “That’s all, John,” declared the lit- tle lady firmly. “Do as you please, but those are my terms.” “Humph! got a mind of her own when she’s aroused,” reflected John, alone later. “Dear little chick!” And mother, after a stormy discussion with her son, came the next day. What a glowing loving heart to If she will come old mother the affectionate confiding wife had! How sadly Nellie spoke of her dead mother, how tenderly to this lonely woman whom she asked to share her heart and home. And what a royal meal for John that evening! How his eyes sparkled at the goodly array of eatables! No biscuits like rocks, no doubtful roast, no burned pudding! “Ah,” he observed, “let us see how soon mother can make a graduate of you in cookery, Nellie.” “Why, son,” spoke Mrs. Marcy, a radiant smile on her face, “Nellie has been teaching me all the afternoon.” “Teaching what?” asked John. “Cookery.” “Rut—"" “Now listen, John,” spoke his mother, winding one loving arm about Nellie and holding her close. “You have got a jewel here.” “I always knew that,” declared John. wants me here, that I've got to stay, just to be in the sunshine of her lov- ing smiles. Those biscuits—" John made a wry face. “And the bread—" John threw up his hands in direful dismay at the memory. > “Were all frauds, innocent frauds,” went on the old woman. “She was bound to drive you to haveeme here. She made those biscuits like rocks and spoiled the bread and let that thief get away with your coat—" “Just because I love your mother almost as much as yourself,” added Nellie. “Oh, you darling! cried John en- thusiastigally. “You are just the dear- est little wife in the world!” “And a daughter-in-law to be proud of,” supplemented his old mother. (Copyright, 1914, by W. G. Chapman.) TO HONOR GEORGE CRABBE Trowbridge (England) People to Hold Celebration in Memory of a Poet-Rector. Preparations are being made at Trowbridge, Wiltshire, England, for holding in June an appropriate cele- bration in honor of George Crabbe, the poet, who held the rectory of Trowbridge for more than eighteen FATS. isis hamagsn han so : It was on June 3, 1814, that Crabbe’s induction took place. He was in his sixtieth year and nearly half his life- time had been spent since the success tion into fashionable and literary cir- cles of eminence and fame which it secured for him. The rectory is an old-fashioned house with tiled roofs and high-pitched gables and in summer a green pro- fusion of creeper upon its walls. Such was Crabbe’s home for 18 years, and he rarely left it except to pay occa- sional visits to London or to friends in Suffolk. In his library, when the rest of the household was abed, he set- tled himself to his work, with his snuff box ready to hand and a glass of brandy and water by him, oblivious of the confusion of the room, the rat- tling windows and the absence of paint where paint should have been. Strong Competition. In Colorado, remember, the women vote as well as the men. In the fall of 1910 a man named Smith was running for sheriff against a man named Jones. One evening just before election Smith rode up to the barn-yard of an old farmer. The farmer was milking a cow and was having difficulty with a lusty calf that continually tried to “butt in.” The candidate, to gain the favor of the farmer, took the calf between his legs and held it until the milking was done. He then introduced himself: “I am Mr. Smith, the Republican candidate i for sheriff of the county. I suppose you know the man who’s running against me?” » The farmer's eyes twinkled as he slowly drawled: “Waal, I reckon I do. He's in the house now, holding the baby.”—Everybody’s. “Yes, John,” responded Nellie de- | “] don’t know, indeed,” murmured | heart talk with the doubting, fearful | “She has so surely proved that she of “The Village” and the introduc~ : Shoes. Shoes. Yeager s Shoe Store “FITZEZY" The Ladies’ Shoe that Cures Corns Sold only at Yeager’ Shoe Store, Bush Arcade Building, BELLEFONTE, PA 58-27 Dry Goods, Etc. Shoes. Hats and Caps. Clothing. Suit Cases. Are you going to the Panama Exposition You will need Luggage. Our New Showing of BAGS, SUIT CASES AND TRUNKS is much the largest in Bellefonte. PRICED HONESTLY. Let us show you. We Can Please You. FAUBLE BELLEFONTE, PENNA. 58-4 comments som Subscribe for the "Democratic Watchman.” mana snmp Hardware. LYON & COMPANY. Daily Arrival of New pring Goods Advance showing of 1915 Dress Fabrics in Silks, Woolens, Voiles, Organdies, and Imported and Domestic Ginghams. Everything new h stripes, checks and floral effects. ETI Clearance Sale of all Winter Stuffs still continued. All Coats and Suits for Ladies, Misses and Children at less than cost. Lyon & Co. su Bellefonte SPECIAL... Inventory Sale First Quality Granite Tea Kettle, No. 8, 30C. Eight-quart Berlin Kettle . 39¢C. Ten-quart ater Pail . 39C. Seventeen-quart Dishpan ° 39C. Ten-quart Preserving Kettle : . . 30C. A Granite Wash Basin or 2 Granite Pie Plates free with any of the above. A FEW OF THE SPECIALS for our Annual Inventory Sale: $1.25 Universal Food Chopper, No. 1 .98 1 oo O-Cedar Mops : . : 75 1.50 O-Cedar Mops $1.25 .75 Axes . ‘ . . .50 Six-foot Rule . . ; : . .15 One Set Brace and Bits : . . 3 .99 Eight-ince Mill Files 8c each or two for .15 105 Carriage Bolts, assorted Sa : .50 Paring Knives 3c. ro-inch Agri. rench. .35 Claw Hammers 12¢c. Ten-quart Dishpan .10 SPECIAL BARGAINS IN HORSE BLANKETS. $1.50 Blankets $1.00. $1.75 Blankets $1.29 2.50 2 1.98. 3.00 at © 2.19 The Potter-Hoy Hardware Co. BELLEFONTE, PA. 59-11-1y Read The World. A GREAT OFFER! The Thrice-a-Week Edition of The New York Word‘: Demara Watchman The World is Practically a Daily at the Price of a Weekly. No other News- paper in the world gives so much at so low a price. The year 1914 has been the most extraordinary in the history of modern times. It_has Withessed the outbreak of the European war, a struggle so titanic that it makes all others ook small. You live in momentous times, and you should not miss aly of the tremendous events that are Securing, No other newspaper inform you with the promptness and chea of the Thrice-a-Week edition of the New York World. Moreover, a year’s subscription to it will take vou far into our next ential campaign. THE THRICE-A-WEEK WORLD'S regular subscription price is only $1.00 per year, and this pays for 156 papers. We offer this unequalled newspaper and y T yean m THE DEMOCRATIC WATCHMAN : together for one year for $2.15. The regular subscription price of the two papers is $2.50. {The Democratic Watchman, recognized as the Best County FP Published in Pennsyl- vania, and by far the Best and Most Reliable ted in Centre County, the resulas price of which is $1.50 per year. In connection with the World, it will be fur- for $2.15. » This combination of papers will give you all the news, both General and Local, and will secure you pavers that tell you the truth and papers that your family can read without fear of faving untruthful and indecent matters thrust upon them. : TRY THIS COMBINATION and see how well it will suit you.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers