Bellefonte, Pa., November 26, 1915. m— THE MATCHMAKERS. [By Keith Kenyon.] “Well, I'm here!” called a gay young voice just outside the door. The three elderly bachelors turned from the breakfast table and viewed with amazement a very pretty young ‘person who now stood in the doorway regarding them with a pair of wonder ful viclet eyes, “Well, uncles dear,” she pouted, “I’m homesick already! Not one of you seems to be glad to see me; and I've traveled miles just to be with you.” Tears appeared in the violet eyes. “Why—why—why!” faltered Uncle Anthony, jumping from his chair and moving toward the newcomer with outstretched hands. “We are de- lighted, my dear—only you did sur- prise us. I only received your moth- er’s letter an hour ago.” “I suppose father forgot to mail it. It was written a week ago and I—we all wondered why you didn’t answer. I told them I supposed you were so paralyzed with joy at my coming that you simply couldn’t reply. Well, here I am. Now, what are you going to do with me?” She regarded them whim- sically. “First have some breakfast,” invited Uncle David, pecking a kiss at her cheek. : Uncle Benjamin rang for Mrs. Muf- fet, whose disapproving expression did nct dissolve even beneath the. warmth of Helena’s dazzling smile. “Another plate, please, Mrs. Muf- fet,” directed Uncle Anthony. “Will you have a chop, Helena, my dear?” “If you please, uncle—ch, dear, it’s no wonder I can’t tell you apart when I haven’t seen you in dozens and doz- ens of years!” “Not since you were five, Helena,” corrected Uncle David gravely. “And you must be—let me see; why, bless me, child, you are seventeen!” “I'm as old as I look—or as young, uncles dear—only tell me, please, which one cf you is which?” Then Helena Strang was properly introduced to her three charming “Well, I'm Here,” Called a Gay Young Voice. granduncles, who proceeded to enjoy her youthful enthusiasm to the ut- most. Uncle Antheny loved to recite his favorite poems to Helena, and in her he found a gentle, appreciative lis- tener. Uncle David ehallenged her to a nightly game of chess and was highly delighted when she vanquished him, as she frequently did. It was Uncle Benjamin who was the sports- man cof the family, and together he and Helena drove each day to the country club and tramped over the golf course, ®beccming, in due time, delightfully chummy. : : Then the three old gentlemen con- zeived a plot to marry Helena to one of their neighbors, Jack Lyman, an altogether desirable young man who, on his part, lost no time in falling in love with the fascinating grand- aiece. It was about this time that a re- markablc change tock place in Helena. Something seemed to have dampened her high spirits, and ske went about with a depressed and half-frightened iock on her charming face. All .the granduncles noticed it, and, finally, Mrs. Muffet was called in consultation. “I might classify her disease as a guilty concience,” Mrs. Muffet diag- losticated, with a sour smile. “Mrs. Muffet!” reared the three old gentlemen in chorus. Then Uncle An- ‘hony arose in his most dignified man- ger and informed his housekeeper that if she would step into the library 1e would pay her up to the first of the year and that Amos would drive ier to the station at once. “Ill go,” said Mrs. Muffet angrily, ‘but before I dc leave I'd like to ask ne question—how is it that Miss Helena came here twelve years ago with a pair of beautiful brown eyes— ind ndw her eyes are blue—blue as riolets?” , : The trio of uncles gasped. “Fiddlesticks!” ejaculated Uncle Benjamin, first to recover. “They are very blue indeed,” mur- nured Uncle Anthony, tenderly. “I’ve heard that the eyes of infants requently do assume another color in after years,” defended Uncle David. “Miss Helena was no infant’ when {he came here before, sir,” returned ' | | Mrs, Muffet grimly. “She was five years old, for I was chambermaid then and I took care of her. Her eyes were brown like her mother’s and her hair | was the same color—and she gave no ' promise of looking like this one. If you'll excuse my saying <o, she couldn’t be as handsome!” “Then—then, who is our Helena?” demanded Uncle David fiercely. “An impostor!” “Absurd!” almost shrieked the three seeeesceeee ee o 'o%' 900000000000 % ee" %0%0%6% 0 0 0 a" e%e e"' 9,0.8,0.0.00 00 ete 0% %a tut", AT KAPPER'S SPUR By IZOLA FORRESTER. , XIOOOOOOCK) e000 000 0.00.00, eee 20202020 020% eee eee el o OOOO 00070707070 00% 0 0% "00 0% %0%0 0 "0% 0 0 "0 "se ee "0 0 0 se s% The Walters’ ranch was the largest | on the mountain, and they had a good uncles in concert, and Mrs. Muffet’ was allowed to depart under suspend- ed sentence cf dismissal until they could investigate the case of the niece whose relationship to them she had so beldly questioned. “What shall we do?” asked Uncle Antheny, feebly, when they were alone. “Let us get the truth,” said Uncle Benjamin firmly. Sc they went in a body into the garden on their distasteful errand. They came upon her suddenly at the turn of a corner arbor. Jack Ly- man was with her, and what the would-be inquisitors saw made them forget their errand. The young people did not see the three anxious old faces—they were too deeply absorbed in the telling of a wonderful story whose setting should always be in a rose garden. Guiltily the granduncles tiptoed back to the house. “I will wire the news to Isabel and ask their con- sent,” whispered Uncle Anthony. At which his brothers blushed rosy red, for they knew that meant a speedy solution of the problem. It would soon be known to them whether they had indeed been entertaining their grandniece or an impostor, as Mrs. Muffet had charged. “She is a dear child, anyway,” de- clared Uncle David grufily, and the others nodded assent. Uncle Anthony scratched off a tele- gram, of which the others approved: “Helena is quite well and wants your consent to her engagement to Jack Lyman, our particular friend.” “We should receive a reply by din- ner time,” said David as he prepared to take the telegram to the station. Helena did not make her appear- ance until half an hour before dinner. She pleaded a headache, and she looked quite pale and drooping when she came down stairs and joined the waiting trio on the veranda. Mrs. Strang’s telegram arrived al- mest precisely at the same moment. Uncle Anthony opened it with shak- ing fingers and read: “Are you crazy? Helena is with house in the little town besides. But Rita Henty had been at school for four years down at Laramie, and Len Wal- ters had never gone beyond the course he had right there at Kapper’s Spur. It had been part of the fun of coming home summers to tease him and show him the decided difference between a person who has studied at Laramie and one who has spent the best years of his 'teeng herding cattle. Miss Baxter, the new schoolteacher, was to arrive on a Saturday, and just for nonsense Rita went to the station to meet her. Len was there, too. There had been some correspondence and it was settled the teacher was to live at the Walters’ house. But Rita was mighty sweet to the stranger when she stepped from the westbound train, clad in brown, with a white felt hat on her soft blonde hair. And she took her away from Len with a laugh, Rita’s. father, the chairman of the committee, should meet her first. She would take her home to supper, and take her to Mrs. Walters’ later. Len stood and watched them pass down the street from the station. Just for a minute he had looked into Sid- ney’s eyes and they had been divert: ing. In the weeks that followed they never lost that first charm for him. Twice a week he rode in from the ranch, and Sidney grew to look for the visits. me and ill with whooping cough, an | absurd ailment for a girl of seven- teen. Will write. Isabel.” Without a word the distressed old man passed the message to David, who read it in grim silence and then handed it to Benjamin. Helena stood before them, her eyes looking like drownad blue violets in her pale face. “I have something to tell you, all,” {she began with a catch in her voice. “I have told Mr. Lyman—Jack—and he has forgiven me. I hope you will, too, fer I love you all so dearly!” “What is it, my dear?” asked Uncle Anthony compassionately. Helena slipped toc her knees and | hid her face in his lap. : “I am not Helena Strang,” she con- fessed tearfully. “I am quite an- dther Helena—Helena Clifton. I have been Mrs. Strang’s private secre- i tary for several years—I am twenty- four. I never had a home. I was brought up in an crphan asylum and when I was old enough to go out into the werld I found a place in a store and worked until I could save money enough tc take a business course; when I was competent Mrs. Strang employed me. “When she decided to go to Mon- treal she gave me six months’ vaca- tion—and I had nowhere to go. There had been much talk of Helen ceming down to her uncles and it . moon of yours does wonders. “My father was a ranger,” Sidney told him. “I'm named for him. I was born in the forest, so I guess it’s nat. ural for me to feel at home there and love it best. That's why I wanted to come up hete and teach school.” “Would you like to stay?’ He blurted it out clumsily, but she did not seem to understand what lay be hind his words. How could she know that he pictured her living out at the ranch, his wife, and all the world turned golden. Sidney shook her head doubtfully. Perhaps if she could go back East sometimes. Rita had told her how tiresome Kapper’s Spur be came. If her brother could come out and take up ranching, then she would like it. ” “Send for him. I'll take him on with me,” promised Len. And the next few weeks Kapper’s Spur thrilled at the small drama en: acted under its very nose. Big Al Baxter, fresh from college, with a halfback record behind him, a sense of humor and plenty of good inten: tions, not only came on and went after ranching as if it had been trout fish ing, but also after Rita Henty. “The trouble with you western girls is that you're trying to be like east: ern girls,” he told her flatly. “Why don’t you drop these latest style flub dubs and get into a short skirt and flannel waist and ride over to see us with Sid? After we're married, some day I'm going te teach you how to enjoy life.” “I wouldn’t marry you for anything, Mr. Baxter,” Rita told him teasingly “Well, maybe not,” said Al easily. “Did you know Len and Sid are en gaged?” “Really?” “Certain sure,” he nodded his head solemnly. “Last night. This big gold I saw how things were going as soon as 1! came West, so I rather hurried them . up. Told Sid she'd have to go back was all arranged, but at the last mo- | ment she decided to go to Canada | with her parents. Befcre she went, she proposed this scheme to me and insisted that I should imperscnate her as your grandniece. “It was a great temptation to me to tome down here—and—so I came. You know the rest—and if you want to send for the police, you may! But you have been wonderfully kind to me and I don’t believe Helena Strang could love you more than I do! So there!” She rose and faced them with tear- ‘ul eyes and trembling lips. “Dear me!” coughed Uncle An- ‘hony, looking properly distressed. “Humph—nonsense!” growled Uncle David. “A man may have more than ne grandniece, eh, boys? Well, Hel- na Clifton, I'll adept you as my niece dere and now! I like you.” He heid »ut his arms and Helena promptly ac- septed their protecticn, “I's my turn now,” reminded Uncle Benjamin, rather jealously. After Helena had cried a little cn sach kindly shoulder, and still ’lushing divinely, and with a pathetic [uaver in her voice, she resumed: “I lave promised to marry Jack Lyman, tncles. I told him all atout it and he laid it didn’t matter in the least, so ve are engaged—provided, of ccurse, rou give your consent.” The three old matchmakers looked rery uncertain indeed, but while hey were pretending to consider he serious question, their frowns jave way to delighted grins, for Jack Lyman himself came striding up the ath. “Here comes our prospective lephew-in-law,” announced Undéle An- hony cheerfully. Copyright, 1915, by the McClure Newspa- per Syndicate.) Chocolate was known to the Aztecs f Mexico. with me; that I didn’t like the place, or Len, or the ranch. If you want a girl to go a certain way, you pull the bridle opposite.” Rita’s brown eyes flashed at the big, complacent fellow. He was so serene ly sure of himself and his power to win. It was fearfully slow at the Spur. Somehow Miss Henty began to find interest in teaching the Easterner western ways. She was hospitable to him and comradely. The captain liked him, and Rita invited him to the house often. Sidney would not. be married until spring. . “Then I'll be going back East,” said Al : “When?” She almost whispered it. Her back was turned from him. Not for worlds would she have let him see her eyes, filled with tears, after. she had laughed at him and been so self-sufficient. “Any day after the first wind of spring blows this way. Still, it’s some time to wait till spring. I can’t help looking forward, though. I'm going to be married in April, long about the 10th; that’s my birthday.” “Perhaps she would rather be mar: ried on her birthday.” “When is it, Rita?” She turned on him passionately. “I think ycu are the most—" “No, you don't,” he caught her up. “You've just been spoiled, that’s all. Every able-bodied man in twenty miles wishes he had a fighting chance to win you, and I haven't wished. The first time I saw you I made up my mind to marry you. If you don’t like April 10, make it your own birthday. I'll let you. I asked the captain and he told me to go ahead and win with his blessing. So I have.” Captain Henty came strolling leis urely up from the corral, “I just heard about Len getting the schoolma’am,” he called up. “You can teach if you want to, Rita.” “She's engaged, Cap,” Baxter an- .swered genially. He put out his hand as Rita tried to rise. advertise.” (Copyright, 1915. b paper “You'll have to the McClure News- yndicate.) and so you should be. Kerosene wick nor cause soot and smoke. OU’RE mighty careful about the water you drink— You want to know where it comes from and the probability of its purity. If you have any doubt whatever of its purity, you will not drink it, because you realize the danger of it being infected with bacteria. That's showing your good common sense, Suppose you apply this same common sense when buying kerosene. What's the sense of paying for a poor quality kerosene when you can buy the best and pay no more for it? The next time you buy kerosene ask your grocer for ATLANTIC Rayolicht Insist on that kind because you get the most for your money. You're buying kerosene that burns longer and brigh-er, and gives out the greatest heat. Because it is pure and high grade it will not char the It does not create unpleasant odors when burning. Our scientific process of refining has elimi- nated all these objectionable features found in low-grade, common kerosene. Insist on having Rayolight Oil just the same as you would insist on having pure water. Atlantic Rayolight Oil is a Sewing Machine Tonic. It just puts new life into the machine. Drop into all the oil receptacles, let it remain for twelve hours, then run the machine, without threading, for five minutes, wipe clean and oil in the usual way. New on you? Well, perhaps you’ve got a use that’s new to us; if you have, in a short while, if you read these advertisements, you'll see something of interest. THE ATLANTIC REFINING COMPANY Pittsburgh and Philadelphia Funeral Director. H. N. KOCH Funeral Director Successor to R. M. Gordner. STATE COLLEGE, PENNA. Day and Night Service. 60-21-tf, Bell and Commercial Phones. Flour and Feed. CURTIS Y. WAGNER, BROCKERHOFF MILLS, BELLEFONTE, PA. Manufacturer, Wholesaler and Retailer of Roller Flour Feed Corn Meal and Grain Manufactures and has on hand at all times the following brands of high grade flour: WHITE STAR OUR BEST HIGH GRADE VICTORY PATENT FANCY PATENT The only place in the county where that extraor- dinarily fine grade of spring wheat Patent Flour SPRAY | can be secured. Also International Stock Food and feed of all kinds. All kinds of Grain bought at the office Flour xchanged for wheat. OFFICE and STORE—BISHOP STREET, BELLEFONTE, PA. MILL AT ROOPBSURG. 7-19 Best Book Work and Job Printing Done Here. Meat Market. (Get the Best Meats. You save nothing by buying poor, thin or gristly meats. I use ay os LARGEST AND FATTEST CATTLE and supply my customers with the fresh- est, choicest, best blood and muscle mak- ing Steaks and Roasts. My prices are no higher than poorer meats are elsewhere. I always have —— DRESSED POULTRY — Game in season, and any kinds of good meats you want. ‘ TRY MY SHOP. P. L. BEEZER, High Street. 34-3¢-1y. Bellefonte, Pa Announcement. BT The Farmers’ Supply Store We are Headquarters for the Dollyless “ Electric Washing Machines Weard Reversible Sulky Riding Plows and Walking Plows, Disc Harrows, Spring-tooth Harrows, Spike-tooth Lever Harrows, Land Rollers; g-Hole Spring Brake Fertilizer Grain Drill—and : the price is $70. POTATO DIGGERS, Brookville Wagons—all sizes in stock. "Buggies and Buggy Poles, Manure Spreaders, Galvanized Water Troughs, Cast Iron Hog and Poultry Troughs, Galvanized Stock Chain Pumps, Force and Lift Pumps for any depth of wells, Extension an Step Ladders, Poultry Supplies and : All Kinds of Field Seeds. Nitrate of Soda and Fertilizer for all crops, carried at my ware- house where you can get it when you are ready to use it. Soliciting a share of your wants, I am respectfully yours, JOHN G. DUBBS, 60-14-tf. Both Phones Bellefonte, Pa.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers