eee eee eee eee
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Bellefonte, Pa., April 20, 1923. |
The Light of West-
ern Stars.
(Continued from page 2, Col. 6).
lowed involuntarily. “I choose to
overlook what you did because you
were nor wholly accountable, and be-
cause there must be no trouble ve-
tween Aifred and you. May I rely on
you to keep silence and to seal the
lips of that priest? You will spave
me further distress, will you not,
please?”
His hoarse reply was incoherent, but
she needed only to see his working
face to know his remorse and grati-
tude.
Madeline went back to her room;
and presently Florence came for her,
and directly they were sitting at break-
fast. Madeline Hammond's impres-
sion of her brother's friend had to be
reconstructed in the morning light.
She felt a wholesome, frank, sweet
nature. She liked the slow southern
drawl. And she was puzzled te know
whether Florence Kingsley was pretty
or striking or unusual. She had a
youthful glow and flush, the clear tan
of outdoors, a face that lacked the
soft curves and lines of eastern
women, and her eyes were light gray,
like crystal, steady, almost piercing, |
and her hair was a beautiful bright
waving mass.
A sharp knock on the parlor door
interrupted conversation. Florence's
sister went to open it. She returned
presently and said:
“It's Gene. He's been dawdlin’ out
there on the front porch, and he
knocked to let us know Miss Ham-
mond’s brother is comin’.”
Florence hurried into the parlor,
followed by Madeline. The door stood
open, and disclosed Stewart sitting on
the porch steps. From down the road
came a clatter of hoofs. Madeline
fooked out over Florence’s shoulder
and saw a cloud of dust approaching
and in it she distinguished outlines
of horses and riders. A warmth spread
over her, a little tingle of gladness,
and the feeling recalled her girlish
love for her brother. What would
he be like after long years?
Looking out, Madeline saw a bunch
of dusty, wiry horses pawing the
gravel and tossing lean heads. Her
swift glance ran over the lithe horse-
men, trying to pick out the one who !
was her brother. But she could not.
Her glance, however, caught the same
rough dress and hard aspect that char-
acterized the cowboy Stewart. Then
one rider threw his reins, leaped
from the saddle, and came bounding
up the porch steps. Florence met him
at the door.
“Hello, Flo. Where is she?’ he
called, eagerly. With that he looked
over her shouider to espy Madeline,
He actually jumped at her. She
hardly knew the tall form and the
bronzed face, but the warm flash of
blue eves was familiar, As for him,
he had no doubt of his sister, it ap-
peared, for with broken welcome he
threw his arms around her, then held
her off and looked searchingly at her.
“Well, sister,” he began, when
Florence turned hurriedly from the
door and interrupted him.
“Al, T think you'd better stop the
wrangling out there.”
He stared at her, appeared suddenly
to hear the loud voices from the
street, and then, releasing Madeline,
he said:
“By George! I forgot, Flo. There
is a little business to see to. Keep my
sister in here, please, and don't be
fussed up, now.”
He went out on the porch and called
to his men:
“Shut off your wind, Jack! And
you, too, Blaze! I didn’t want you
fellows to come here. But as you
would come, you've got to shut up. !
This is my business.”
Whereupon he turned to Stewart,
who was sitting on the fence.
“Hello, Stewart!” he said.
It was a greeting; but there was
that in the voice which alarmed
Madeline.
Stewart leisurely got up and lel-
surely advanced to the porch.
“Hello, Hammond !” he drawled.
“Drunk again last night?”
“Well, if you want to know, and if
it's any of your mix, yes, I was—
pretty drunk,” replied Stewart.
It was a kind of cool speech that
showed the cowboy in control of him-
self and master of the situation—not
-an easy speech to follow up with un-
due inquisitiveness. There was a
short silence.
“pD— it, Stewart,” said the speaker,
presently, “here's the situation: It’s
all over town that you met my sister
last night at the station and—and
insulted her. Gene, you've been on the
‘wrong trail for some time, drinking
and all that. You're going to the bad.
But Bill thinks, and I think, you're
still a man. We never knew you to
lie. Now what have you to say for
yourself?” .
“Nobody is insinuating that I am a
lar?” drawled Stewart.
“No.”
“Well, I'm glad wo hear that. You
see, Al, I was pretty drunk last night,
but not drunk enough to forget the
least thing I did. I found Miss Ham-
mond waiting alone at the station.
She wore a vell, but I knew she was
a lady, of course. I imagine, now that
I think of it, that Miss Hammond
found my gallantry rather startling,
and—"
At this point Madeline, answering to
unconsidered impulse, eluded Florence
and walked out upon the porch.
“Gentlemen,” sald Madeline, rather
I act
breathlessly; and it did not add to
her calmness to feei a hot flush in her
cheeks, “I am very new to western
ways, but I think you are laboring
rnder a mistake, which, in justice to
Mr. Stewart, I want to correct. In-
deed, he was rather—rather abrupt
and strange when he came up to mw
last night; but as I understand him
now, I can attribute that to his gal-
lantry. He was somewhat wild ang
sudden and—sentimental In his de-
mand to protect me—and it was nat
clear whether he meant his prote-tion
for lsat night or forever; but 1 mn
hapuy to say he oifered me no word
that was not honorable. And he saw
at safely nere ww Miss Kingsiey o
rome,”
(To be continued).
PULLED COMRADE TO SAFETY
Amazing Act of Airedale Who Res
cued His Playmate From Wheels
of Speeding Train.
The Airedale who saved the life of
his mate, a large setter, by snatching
him off the railway tracks near Cin-
cinnati only an instant before a B. &
O. train whizzed over the spot, per-
formed a very remarkable and heroic
act. There can be no question about
this, says Our Dumb Animals. There
were at least two reliable witnesses of
the reseme who reported the facts,
which were substantially as follows:
Both dogs belonged to one owner.
They had been inseparable compan-
ions. The setter was subject to fits,
and when the locomotive gave its
warning whistle he was suddenly
stricken and dropped between the
rails paralyzed. The Airedale was a
smaller dog, but quick and wiry. All
of his breed are fast workers. The
Airedale grasped the situation instinc-
tively, if you must have it so, but with
every indication of rapid reasoning.
His mental processes prompted him to
instantly and desperately. He
achieved his purpose and dragged him
over the rail, not a second too soon,
and then down the declivity to a safe
place; there to revive him from coma
by licking him with his tongue. The
account of this rescue at once stirred
up the old controversy of Instinct
versus reason in the dog among psy-
chologists and dog fanciers. It is our
opinion that one need not be either of
these to discern and determine Intelli-
gence and reason in the animal that
has associated himself closest with
-man,
SOME WISDOM IN LAZINESS
' Reserving a Little Time for Thought
Is by No Means the Worst of
Human Attributes.
Writing for a current magazine of
“The Wisdom of Laziness,” Fred C.
Kelly says:
“Frank B. Gilbreth, the great indus-
trial engineer and student of human
motions, frequently makes moving pie-
tures of expert workmen in various
trades to determine how few different
movements are needed in performing
a piece of work,
“He finds that the best worker—
that is, the one from whom others can
learn the most, is invariably a lazy
man, willing to work only just hard
enough to hold his job. He is too lazy
to waste a single motion that he can
avoid,
“The more energetic man is far less
efficient because he doesn't mind
squandering his energy in unnecessary
movements. At the end of the day he
is fatigued out of all proportion to the
work done.
“We often hear a man who makes a
great commotion about his job spoken
of approvingly as a hustler. But the
average hustler never ouftgrows taking
orders from some quiet fellow seated
at a desk in the main office.”
A radical reversion from the old
gospel of the man who was ‘chain
lightning” on his job. But now that
Mr. Kelly reminds us, we did hear
once on a time that chain lightning
never strikes anything.
Prime Sport in Swordfishing.
The barkentine Monitor recently ar
4ved at Seattle from a cruise in the
South seas, bringing the report that a
swordfish, evidently mistaking the boat
for a whale, attacked from underneath.
It came up with such momentum that
its sword was driven through a six-
inch plank in the hull. When inves-
tigation was made to discover the cause
of a leak, the fish’s sword was found,
minus the teeth, in the thick plank.
What is regarded as a prime summer
sport is swordflshing along the north-
ern sea coast of the United States.
The swordfish is harpooned, the har-
pooner standing behind an iron protec-
tion as high as his waist. The sword-
fish preys on schools of spawning
fishes. While frequently seen in the
Pacific waters, it in a native of the
North Atlantic, the Mediterranean sea
and the vicinity of the Antilles. It be-
comes as large as & shark, and has a
mackerel-shaped body.
The Dadaist.
Miss Catherine Wendell of New
fork, who is to marry Lord Porches-
ter, heir to the earl of Carnarvon, is as
witty as she is beautiful. At a studio
tea she said one day:
“The new movements in painting—
cubism and dadaism and so on—make-
it difficult for us amateurs to criticize
discreetly.
“A very modern painter was about
to show me a new painting. As he
took the cloth from off the easel I
clasped my hands and sald:
“ ‘Oh, how lovely!’
% ‘Wait a minute,’ said he.
side down.’
“Then he turned the painting round
and I said:
“ ‘Oh, now it's lovelier still!’ *
‘It's up-
It Was an Affair
of Charity
By ARTHUR W. PEACH
™ A
hs
«©. 1923, by McClure Newspaper Syndicate.)
“Ted, you have more money than
you know what to do with. Now I
want to help you part with a little of
it!” Margaret Ames looked with
amused and tender eyes at the clear-
cut face that was lifted to hers from
a newspaper.
Emerson smiled at the dark-eyed
girl in turn. “Another affair of char-
ity? It seems to me that I have part-
ed with quite a bit since you won me
to that settlement work of yours. But
I am game; I'll help—what is it?”
Peggy Ames knew the secret of her
power over him; that secret was one
of the great and precious possessions
of her life. Once had he loved her,
and she had almost loved him Though
she had married another, something of
the fragrance of his love for her shed
its fragrance down the years and had
kept their companionship sweet.
“I'll tell you. 1 want you to furnish
funds enough to aid a young singer to
complete her last year at the conserva-
tory!”
A quick shadow rose and darkened
in his eyes, and she was surprised at
the swift bitterness in his tone. “That
is the last thing I care to do. Peggy.
Please don’t ask me to do it.”
She looked at him with questioning
eyves—there was some mystery behind
his sudden and unusual stern answer.
“But it’s a small thing, Ted; and I
am anxious to help her. Please!”
“If I could only learn to refuse you.”
he said, the shadow still in his eyes,
“but I cannot. So what is my contri-
bution to be?”
He paid the succeeding installments,
as he did that one, with good grace,
but Peggy was constantly tantalized
by his evident feeling that it was the
last thing he wanted to do. She came
to the conclusion that there was some
I
He Seemed to Grow Rigid and Quiet.
mystery tucked away into his life
which she, as his first and only love,
should know. R
So one day she said frankly: “Ted,
why were you so quick to say you
didn’t want to help in my little sing-
er's case?”
The dark shadows rose into his se-
rene eyes. “My reason, my dear, be-
longs to a past over which I have
dropped a veil, and not even you can
lift it,” he answered quietly.
“Did it have to do with some girl?”
she persisted. “I have always thought
1 was the only one!”
He laughed. “You are—but you
weren't. Now, look here, Mischief,
vou have pumped my innermost se-
crets from me, but this one you
won't!”
“Is—that—so?"”
He looked at her quickly, puzzled by
the tone of her voice; then, evidently
satisfied that she really knew nothing
about that seeret, he answered:
“That—is—so!"”
A month later she announce@ that
he was to escort her to the recital at
which their little singer was to ap-
pear. He demurred, but she had her
way.
“1 have a lovely little plot all in
mind, Ted. She is a beautiful thing,
and—I noticed the other day that the
gray frost is gathering at your tem-
ples. You really must settle down;
and it would be fine if you could get
interested in her!” she advised him,
He grinned a grin that was still
boyish. “Marry me to a temperamen-
tal songbird? Peggy, where is your
common sense? I don’t want a lark in
my home; they fit in better outside.
Now, if you had married me—"
“What a life you would have led!”
she parried.
Peggy guided him to the hall where
the recital was to be held. Their
seats were in a favorable location to
see the stage, and she gossiped merrily
by reason of the sheltered position.
He listened with interest to the earlier
numbers, and followed her chatter
with his quiet regard, but she could
«oa that on the whole he was bored.
[4
empty wagon.
wath uues Lie vugect of our char-
‘ty appear?” he queried finally, point-
tng to the name on the program, Pris-
~lia Hope.
“There she is now !” she said, watch-
ing him closely.
He was suddenly tense, as a golden-
haired girl came gracefully forward.
She was beautiful, and the God who
made her beautiful gave her a beauti-
ful voice.
As she sang and replied to encore
after encore, he seemed to grow rigid
and quiet. When she had finished,
returning to bow her appreciation of
the applause given her, Peggy said
tg him:
“Now, aren't you glad you spent
some of your money in such an invest-
ment?”
He was silent for a moment. “I
hardly know.”
“Aren't you interested in her?”
He turned to her, his voice full of
pain. “Oh, Peggy, be merciful! What
do you know? What have you been
up to? You know her real name is
not Priscilla Hope but Mary Lane—
what else?”
“Hush, dear lad, I know a great
deal. I know that you loved her once,
and that because she thought she was
more interested in her music than in
you and a home she refused you. 1
did not know all this at first, but T
have lparned it.”
“Well, it is true,” he said a bit
sadly.
“l have learned something else—
that she really does love you. [I have
managed it—oh, so cleverly, dear lad.
and all you have to do is to go behind
that door and she—"
“Peggy, are you crazy?
have not spoken for—"
“Some precious things we keep in
our hearts, and they grow and blos-
som, season after season, and 1 know
—I know—"
“You are mistaken,” he said firmly,
his face grave with pain. “Suppose
Why. we
.we go!”
He reached the end of the aisle in
the darkening auditorium before he
realized that she was not with him;
then out of the shadows, summoned
evidently by Peggy, came a golden fig-
ure that passed before him, and spoke
in a breathless, half cry:
“Ted, I wanted to succeed—and I
have—but I—I want you s¢ much
more. Don’t you want me?”
Peggy, looking from the stage door,
saw what made the tears of happiness
gather in her eyes, even as she closed
a little door in her own heart over
whose threshold Ted never more
would care to go.
TRANSACTION DID NOT LAST
Certain Circumstances Induced Man
Who Sold Himself for a Hog,
to Repay Money.
Once upon a time, Mr. Rarick, aL
sarly settler residing north of Glen El- -
der, brought one hog to town, selling:
the animal to the buyer, relates the
Glen Elder Sentinel. After unload-
Ing the hog and weighing the empty
wagon, it was léarned that Mr. Rarick
was mistaken in his belief that he
had brought a hog to market. The
empty wagon weighed more than it did
when the presumed-to-be hog was in
it. Nothing daunted, Mr. Rarick told
the buyer he would return and bring
him another hog, as he had no notion
of cheating an honest man.
There used to be a man near To-
ronto who raised hogs to sell. He
also was peculiar. On one occasion,
as E. E. Kelley tells it, he sold a load
of hogs to a local buyer named Tom
Hargis. Hargis was a Texan and held
his word in high regard. Hargis re-
ceived the load of hogs, weighed them
«nd left another man to weigh the
The seller took his
weights to Hargis and received the
money for the hogs. Later. Hargis
found the hog man had weighed “on”
with the load and “off” with the emp-
ty wagon. He mounted a horse and
overtook the seller just at a place on
the creek where we were fishing. Har-
gis made short work of it. “Mister,
you sold me a hawg today I don’t
want. I ain’t got no use for it. You
weighed yo'self and sold yo'self for
a fat hawg at 3 cents a pound. I hate
mighty bad to go back on a deal, but
yo’ ain't wo'th it. Yo’ wouldn't make
good soap grease. So I sort o’ expect
youd better buy yo’self right back,
right now, if yo’ count on drivin’ on
home.” And the man who sold him-
self for a hog promptly bought him-
self back again.
“A Snap of the Fingers.”
In southern countries the fig is the
ecemmmonest of fruits, so to say that
#1 don’t care a fig” means “I care
nothing.”
Now, the action of pushing the
thumb between the two first fingers
produces a shape roughly like a fig,
and to hold up the hand thus means
that you don’t care a fig. That this
gesture has become corrupted into
the contemptuous snap of the fingers
is one explanation.
A far more probable supposition is
that our snap of contempt is the de-
scendant of the old snap with which
the ancient Romans used to summon
their slaves, much as one would click
to a dog, and that when we snap eur
fingers today, we are merely showing
the contempt that we would feel for
the meanest of slaves.
Elimination of Radio Noises.
Howls and noises coming through
a receiving set may be reduced with
tinfoil. Paint the interior with shel-
lac (not glue—glue is not an insula-
sor) and stick the tinfoil to the wet
shellac. After the tinfoil is in place,
it should be grounded. In addition, if
necessary, place aluminum sheets be-
tween the vacuum tubes and ground
these,
an
Select a Good Bank---and
Begin to Save
hose who have made a habit of
systematic saving know what
pleasure a bank book, showing
a growing balance, affords.
Those who do not save, know what
hardship the lack of money brings.
Why not save a little of what you
earn? We are ready to help you do it.
The First National Bank
Bellefonte, Pa.
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All the remaining stock of Rogers & Bro.
‘Star Brand” Knives, Forks and Spoons
will be sold at, $2 per half dozen. These
are the remaining articles of our sale.
F. P. Blair & Son,
Jewelers and Optometrists
Bellefonte, Pa.
FIGURE IT OUT for
yourself. Griffon
Clothes are distinguish-
ed-looking in their style.
They are lastingly tailor-
ed. Their cloths are all
wool and enduring as the
year is long. Are they
worth $30 and $35?
"A. Fauble
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