—
“Bellefonte, Pa., April 11, 1930.
ITS EASY TO LAUGH.
i
|
!
suddenly and quite
dred. He saw that he was obeyed,
too! Once, when Mildred was trying
to slip quietly over to see Rodney,
Tom met the car and turned it back.
And, when I was invited down rather
unexpectedly, I
was hardly surprised, knowing Tom,
when he explained that he wanted
me to keep an eye on Mildred, He
It’s easy to laugh when skies are blue had been called away, he said, and,
And the sun is shining bright;
Yes, easy to laugh when your friends
are true
And there's happiness in sight;
But when hope has fled and the
are gray,
And the friends of the past have
turned away
ah, then, indeed, it's a hero's feat
slides
|
unless he could leave some respons-
ible person in charge, he must take
her with him to make sure that she
didn’t race to the Hall the moment
his back was turned.”
If I had not realized already that
Master Tom was an ass, this would
have convinced me.
«A most improper request,” I said.
To conjure a smile in the face of | “I hope you had nothing to do with
defeat.
it's easy to laugh when the storm is
o'er
And your ship is safe in port;
Yes, easy to laugh when you're on the
shore
Seéure from the tempest’'s sport;
Fut when wild waves wash o'er the
stormswept deck
And your gallant ship is a gallant
wreck
Ah, * that is the time when it is worth
- while
To look in the face of defeat with
a smile.
It's easy to
fought
And you know that the
won
easy to
you sought
Is yours when the race is run;
But here’s to the man who can
when the blast
laugh when the Dbattle's
victory's
Yes, laugh when the prize
laugh
Of adversity blows; he will conquer |
y : Mildred went her way, and I went
at last.
For the hardest
beat
Is the man who can laugh
face of defeat.
man in the world to
in the
r—— le ———
THE SEVENTH YEAR
“Gratitude ?” murmured my cousin
Theresa, dreamily interrogative. “I
know the word, of course, but the
thing it stands for——”
As any one who knows Cannes is
able to testify, the little shops be-
tween the Majestic and the Carlton
are as seductive as any in the Rue
de la Paix and not much more than
twice as expensive. My cousin
Theresa and I had watched American
and South American women, French,
English, Russian and Spanish, each
attended by a man to pay the bills
and carry the parcels, and we had ex-
pressed an ungrudging satisfaction
that so many rich men could still be
found to support so many expensive
women. An unmistakably English
couple who had just dived—after
long inspection of the windows—into
Lacloche’s prompted me to add that,
as England was the most heavily
taxed country in the world, I was
grateful that the inland revenue au-
thorities had left enough money in
circulation for a fortunate few to
participate in this international riv-
alry of ostentation.
It was at this point that Theresa
.exploded in the manner which Ihave
described. Gratitude?
“We'll hope they're as grateful as
I am,” I said. ‘I love to see women
beautifully dressed and I love beau-
tiful jewelry—"
“H’ll be buying her emeralds,” said |
my cousin between her teeth. ‘“Mil-
dred has the loveliest emeralds I've
ever seen. Tom gave her a great
collar of them when they married—" |
“Were those friends of yours?” I
asked rather superfiuously.
“Tom and Mildred? They were.
Mildred and I were at school togeth- |
it.”
Theresa nodded, sawing the air
with an emphatic forefinger.
‘I made it clear to Tom,” she an-
swered, “that if I was to stay an-
other hour in his house it must be
neither as a spy nor as a keeper. He
announced to the heavens at large
that, if Mildred got up to any of her |
tricks, he’d divorce her as quick as
winking. I said that was entirely
his affair. He appealed to me as his
oldest friend, the friend of both par-
ties, the woman who'd brought them
together. ;
“I said I'd do everything in m
power to keep the rift from widen-
ing, but that, if he continued to sus-
pect Mildred without cause, she
would very soon give him cause to
suspect her in grim earnest. Some-
thing to cry for, as our nurses used
to threaten. If I remained at all, I
said, I should remain asa friend and
1a guest.
“And I was as good as my word,
mine. When she told me she had
5
was just saying to myself. Thus far
and no farther, when my maid
brought a message that Sir Thomas
would like to see me if I was dis-
engaged.
“Oh, is he back?” I asked.
«Jt was utterly unnecessary for
me to pretend anything to any--
body, but I wanted to keep cléar
of the conspiracy. I wanted my
maid to realize that I could meet
Tom without any kind of embar-
rassment, It was no good! My
maid was in as deeply as the rest.
I shall believe to my dying day that
it was the boot and knife boy who
telephoned to the Hall and told
Mildred she must come back at
once. *
“You may be sure I was not let
off! While I kept Tom out of mis-
j chief, my maid was going to patrol |
the Hall road in the hope of inter-
cepting Mildred and putting heron
her guard. And, before I'd been
‘talking to Tom for three seconds,
!Ihad not only joined the consipracy
‘put taken charge of it!
“] said it was a pleasant surprise
to see him before we'd expected
‘him. He . interrupted by asking
when Mildred had left the house.
i I said, some time after breakfast.
| He informed me that he had the
| best reasons for believeing that she
had gone to the Hall on Friday
night and had not returned since. I
answered that this was not only
' fantastic but impossible; Mildred
land I had dined together »n Friday,
{ lunched and dined together on Sat-!
urday.”
As my cousin paused, I took oc-
,casion to say that she had not
spared her corroborative detail.
{ “What else could I do?” she ask-
ed helplessly. “The story about the
: masseuse might be true, but I
some buisness with her women's .o;ldn’t use it after what the ser-
institute, I pretended to believe her yants had said. We were all going
implicitly.” to be hanged, so far as I could
So much irony was lavished onigee and it didn’t matter much
the “implicitly” and the “pretended” | whether we were hanged for shee
that T felt obliged to ask ee Ts. ne >
the women's institute was a blind brief for perjury, it may be justifi-
And, though I hold no
| story!
for the Hall.
“I don’t know,” answered Theresa
primly. “I shall never know, I
considered it my business not to
know. All I can tell you is that the
institute was one direction, the Hall
in another and that Mildred went
and returned for all the world as
though she'd walked round five
sides of a hexagon. It wasn't my
business! Hadn't I told them both,
till I was sick and tired, that I
should observe strict neutrality?
And it wasn't even my business
when she had to visit her masseuse
in Bath. A sudden twinge of rheu-
matism. Two or three rubbings.
Could I ever forgive her if she
stayed away for the night?
“I did suggest that she might
have the masseuse out to the house.
Ordinary prudence. And Tom ready ;
to put the worst construction on
everything. Mildred said it was out
of the question; the woman had an
invalid mother who couldn’t be left.”
Theresa paused to make a calcu-
lation on her fingers.
“That must have been a Friday,”
she resumed. “Tom had gone away
on the Wednesday, for a week.
Yes, that's right. And he came
back, without a word of warning, |
on the Sunday.”
“To find that she wasn’t there?”
I hazarded.
My cousin nodded grimly. “And
that I didn’t know where she was!
And I had no idea whether we had
a spy among the servants! And
there was no time to make up a
And, if there had been, I
couldn’t imagine what kind of story
Mildred would like me to make up!”
Theresa’s voice, which had been
er, and Tom was my oldest friend. | rising in a crescendo of excitement,
It was through me that they first suddenly dropped. “Quite
met seven years ago.”
As Theresa has herself been married
candidly,
| I lost my nerve,” she sighed, “When
I saw Tom’s car coming up the
fully ten years, I realized that Ma- | grive, I fled to my room. After all
dame Mildred’s offense could not be | § was
that of stealing the heart of her old- | could see no possible way of keep-
est friend's oldest friend.
Where did the ingratitude come
in?” I ventured.
My cousin stared resentfully at the
many colored windows behind which
Madame Mildred was adding to her
collection of emeralds,
“The trouble began last year,” my
cousin explained, “at Tom’s place in
Somerset. His marches with Fat
Rodney’s, and they were all good
friends until Tom, who's as jealous
as a cat, took it into his head that
Rodney and Mildred were becoming
too fond of each other. I don’t know
that there was anything more in it
than in Mildred's last half-dozen af-
fairs, but Tom decided that he must
put his foot down.
“He pretended, I believe, that he |
couldn't allow any gossip about his :
own wife in his own county, but the |
truth is that the time had come for
them to readjust themselves. They'd
been married six years, and the sev-
enth year is always supposed to be
the most critical. Tom was desper-
ately in love and desperately out of
|
i
!
:
not Mildred’s keeper. I
ing out of it.
“Well, the car pulled up at the
door. The chauffeur rang the bell.
I heard Tom say: “Is Her Lady-
! ship anywhere about? And I wait-
ed for the butler to tell him that
Her Ladyship had gone away two
days before, without her maid, and
that nobody knew where she was
or when she would be back. I had
a dreadful feeling that Tom would
order the car off to the Hall, that
he’d catch them red-handed, that
there would be shooting all round,
“To my amazement, I heard the
butler saying quite calmly: I will
see, Sir Thomas.
“Before I'd had time to collect
myself, I heard the butler coming
back to say that Her Ladyship had
gone out in walking things soon
after breakfast, but expected to be |W
back in time to change before
luncheon. No mention of the mas-
seuse, by the way! And no hint of
any direction!
“The next to come into the con-
love by turns. Very much on edge. | spiracy was the gatekeeper at the
Very unreasonable. And Mildred was | south
lodge, who blithely swore
the same, except that she’s never that Her Ladyship had taken her
been in love with anybody; she just | dog through that way between 10
condescends to people so long as she and 11.
thinks they can be useful to her.
After this, you won't bein
the least surprised to hear that I
“Well, the marriage was hanging fell without a moment's hesitation!”
by a thread. Mildred was wonder-
My cousin looked up at me de-
ing whether it wouldn't be better to | fiantly as though challenging me to
go back to her old poverty than to 'say that I should have acted differ-
put up with Tom any longer, wheth- ' ently in her place.
er he hadn’t exhausted his usefulness.
Tom was stamping about, saying, |in any
“It would have been bad enough
event, for Mildred to be
“This isn’t good enough—' and hop- ; hanged on my evidence, even if the
ing for an out-and-out quarrel if he ' evidence had been corkscrewed out
zouldn’t bring her to heel.
travagance was appalling!
“She neglected her local
And then people began to talk about
Her ex- ; of me,
|
!
duties! {| forward and volunteered
but it would have been a
million times worse if I'd rushed
to Tom
that his servants were lying to him
the way she was seen everywhere : and that Mildred had disappeared
with Rodney. What could ‘poor’ Tom | on the flimsiest of excuses for one
be thinking about to allow it?”
Though I am personally unac- two
-uainted with “Fat” Rodney,
| night and had then stayed away
t At the outset T had insisted
I have | that I was there as a friend, tak-
<ollowed his career in the press and | ing no part in their wrangles, and,
can sympathize with any husband
vho regards him as an undesirable
‘riend for any wife.
ment in this sense to Theresa.
“Oh, every one knows Rodney
jasn’t a very good mame,” she
“greed. “And I, for one, didn't
Jame Tom when he took it on him-
~elf to forbid him the house and to
put the Hall out of bounds for Mil.
I made a com- | dignified course.
|
{
though I don't pretend that it was
a particularly straightforward or
I decided that my
clearly expressed neutrality must
relieve me from the obligation even
of correcting statements which I
knew to be untrue.
“Alas, when one makes friends
with the mammon of unrighteousness
po half measures are permitted! I
able when, by telling the truth,
| you become responsible for. ome or
two lives.
“There was such an air of mur-’
der about Tom that I wondered why
| he didn’t go straight out with his
gun instead of asking me questions
‘of which he didn’t believe a
“one of the answers.
scribe the sceme we had!
He was like a madman!
“I wouldn't give in, though!
gradually it dawned on me that
he did half believe what I was
telling him. I don’t to this day
know whether he was bluffing when
he talked about his reasons for
lieving’ that Mildred had gone to
the Hall, but I realized he was
bluffing when he barked out: ‘It's
not true! Why can’t you be honest
about it?” I stuck to my story un-
til he became positively insulting,
and when I asked him to excuse
me, he flung off to the library, vow-
ing that he would instruct his solic-
itors to institute proceedings for
divorce. He was still there writing
like mad and leaving me to starve,
when luncheon was announced,
“I don’t know whether this «was
bluff, too; with a violent tempered
man who's violently in love and
{ violently jealous, you can't tell for
{ certain, but I didn’t dare give a
‘hint that I was weakening. I told
the butler to ask him if he would
mind my beginning luncheon alone,
as I was faint with hunger. That
prought him back to the attack in
no time! Perhaps he thought I
could be starved into a confession!
“He flourished a letter in my
face and asked me if I still denied
that Mildred had been away since
Friday. I told him I had nothing
to add, nothing to retract. He told
me to read the letter—this kind of
thing could go on no longer. I said
that if he tried to divorce Mildrea
— whether he succeeded or not—he
would be the first to regret it as
—unfortunately for him—he was
obviously still in love with her.
That sobered him, even though he
continued to declare that this sort
of thing couldn't go on.
“ ‘But, I said, whether you di-
vorce her or not it's no affair of
mine. I may lament as a friend
but it’s only too clear that I have
no influence over you.”
“I don’t think you can get out of
it as easily as that,” said Tom. And
I'm sorry our old friendship should
count for so little in your eyes. It
! so happens that you're the one per-
son who can save things, I'm sor-
ry if I rather lost control of myself,
{but this is quite literally a matter
i of life and death. I can trust you.
If you'll swear that the story you've
told me is true, I'll tear this letter
Theresa looked at me again with
a glint of defiance, but this time she
Terrible!
And
take up her challenge.
she went on.
sacred.”
For some time the traffic along
the Croisette had been lessening;
the clock at the top of old Cannes
marked a few minutes to noon. As
the shopkeepers locked their doors
for the midday meal and rest, the
South Americans and Americans, the
English, Russians and Spaniards
desisted from the labor of shopping
and repaired to the Galeries Fleu-
ries for cocktails and orchestral se-
lections from the musical comedies
of Victorian England.
“By everything Iheld
opened. An unmistakably English
couple was bowed out.
drove away, its occupants
rigidly in front of them.
bitter laugh.
pay through the nose!” she ex-
claimed vindictively.
“You are allowing personal re-
sentment to interfere with your
story,” I said. “We had
the point at which Sir Tom,
nanimously or weak-mindedly,
cided to forgive his wife—"
mag-
about it!” my cousin interrupted.
“There was nothing to forgive! You
may be sure Mildred saw to that.
single
I can’t de-
seemed confident that I should not
“Of course, I swore it was true,”
At length the door of Lacloche’s
As the car
stared !
Theresa relieved her feelings in a
“I hope they've been made to
reached |
de- |
“My dear, there was no forgiving
She sauntered in halfway through
luncheon, apologized to me for be-
ing late, patted the top of Tom's
head and told him that, as he
wouldn't trouble to repair the foot-
path from the church, she’d hadto
come the whole way round by road.
“Jt was superbly done, though I
thought the reference to ‘church’ was
perilously near blasphemy. She nev-
er asked why Tom wasn't in London.
Though something was quite obvious-
ly the matter, she refused to notice
it, And without saying a word, in a
way that I can only call magnificent,
she denied his right to question her,
or wonder about her or even speak
to her until she’d suggested, hypnoti-
cally, what he was to say. By the
end of luncheon, it was Tom who had
come to heel.
“Afterward, when we were alone,
she kept up the same attitude with
me. And, my dear, with the same re-
sult! You might have thought I
should be taken into her confidence,
but the only reference she made to
. her absence was to say that she had
fully intended only to be away one
night. No regrets, no apologies, no
thanks, either to me or her guardian senger being limited to fifty pounds ;
devil for getting her out of an ap-
palling scrape!
“All I can tell you is that, when I
tried to pierce Mildred’s armor by in-
quiring after her rheumatism, she
said very deliberately that it was
better, but that she believed she
would have to take a cure at Vichy,
after all.
“I made an excuse to leave next
‘day. Whatever had been the purpose
‘underlying my invitation, I felt I'd
fulfilled it generously. If I hadn't
kept Mildred out of mischief, as Tom
hoped, at least I'd tided them over
the worst crisis of their married life.
THE OLD COACHING DAYS
WERE HORSE KILLERS.
Appearance in widely circulated
national weeklies of advertisements
calling attention to transcontinental
bus lines which traverse Pennsylva-
nia reminded General Edward Mar-
tin, State Treasurer, that at ome
time four companies operated stages
on the National Pike, then called the
Cumberland road, a leading avenue
of East-West travel.
“The companies engaged in stag-
ing on the old pike,” said General
Martin, “were the National Line,
Good Intent, June Bug, and the
Pioneer. No one now living recol-
lects how the “June Bug” Line re-
ceived its name. Relays were es-
. tablished at a distance of from ten
to twelve miles, and there are
some records of quick changing that
would make a modern Jehu turn
green with envy. An old driver
still boasts of harnessing his four
horses in four minutes, and of
' changing teams before the stage
‘ceased rocking. Ponderous trunks
‘were strictly forbidden, each pas-
of baggage, and there was careful
| weighing in those ddys. Each stage
' complement consisted in not more
| than nine passengers. As many as
, fourteen coaches have traveled to-
gether with the 100-odd passengers.
If there was a mail coach among
i them, the ‘toot, toot’ of the driver's
| horn added to the gaiety of the
| scene; and when a wayside inn was
j reached, and the passsengers disem-
{barked for refreshments, what joy-
‘ful recognition, uncorking of bot-
tles, and the like were there!”
| In those days through mail coach-
{es left Wheeling at 6 a. m, and
FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN.
; Daily Thought.
Our cat was not hygienic,
i So we kicked it off the place,
Because he spat upon his feet
And wiped them on’ his face.
—Light has been shed on this
current movement by the viewing of
late collections in which there is a
definite tendency to raise the posi-
tion of skirt fullness. Although re-
taining the long, slender lines and
the effect of molded hips, skirts gen-
erally begin to widen above the
knees, flounces are set on at a high-
.er level or godets are imposed near-
er the waistline. This influence is
j noted not only in the evening mode
i but is prevalent in late models of all
types, particularly in coats,
{| The shades of night are revealing
imuch black and white, pink, blue,
and green, One of the most start.
ling color schemes for which popu-
‘larity is predicted because of its
| ready acceptance among fashionable
' notables here is the wearing of long,
| tobacco brown suede gloves with
evening gowns. This innovation was
sponsored by Worth
Spring collection.
<
in his recent
| —The exercise for reducing the
: wrists is a simple backward and for-
| ward movement. It can be done by
! placing the elbows firmly on a table
ior on the arms of a chair. This done
| let the hands fall forward from the
i wrists, raise them until the fingers
| point upward, the palms are flat and
facing upward. Bend the hands for-
ward again and continue doing this
| rapidly until you tire. Then, still
: resting the elbows, rotate the hands
i from the wrists twenty times to the
I'd been the trusted old friend, with | twenty-four hours later dashed into | right 2nd twenty times io the lest,
a vengeance! When she’d finished
establishing her ascendancy over him
Mildred began to behave as though
she were almost fond of poor, doting
Tom. The last time I met them they
(were coming out of Boucheron's.
Mildred told me it was the anniver-
sary of their wedding day.
“ ‘Seven years! says Tom, ‘and I
swear she grows more lovely each
i day!’ ”
My cousin, who is incapable of
calculating without the use of as
least one set of fingers, tapped out
a rapid sum on her knee.
“May, June, July,” she murmured.
“It was in July, three months after
, this meeting, that I heard there was
& fresh outbreak of the old trouble
over Rodney. You'd have thought
Mildred would have learned her les-
son, wouldn't you? And Tom, for
i the matter of that? They hadn't!
| “Mildred wrote that Tom was be-
coming jealous again; and she, ap-
parently, was being obstinate. Each
was beginning to say that this
couldn’t go on, that rights must be
upheld and feet must be put down.
Soon Mildred was saying, in the very
phrase I'd warned him to expect,
that she'd give Tom something to
‘cry for. Tom was saying he wouldn't
trust her farther than he could see
her.
“That gave Mildred her opportun-
ity. She reminded him of the time
‘when he'd returned unexpectedly in
the hope of finding her with Rodney.
‘And all the time,’ she told him, ‘I was
with my masseuse in Bath, as Ican
prove! I hoped that would cure you
of being suspicious, but apparently
you're incorrigible.’ I have the let-
ter somewhere. It’s the wildest out-
pouring, written in her room, with
the door locked against Tom and her
maid packing for dear life. It was
. the last letter but one that I ever
had from her.
«I wrote a frantic reply, begging
her to be sensible. To my amaze-
ment, it was returned unopened, with
a note from Tom—in the third per-
son and ungrammatical at that—
saying that, as he now knew what I
meant by friendship he would be glad
if I would cease to hold any kind of
communication either with himself or
with his wife. This to the womaf
who'd saved them both from ship-
wreck!
«But his effort was eclipsed hy
Mildred's. She wrote a day or two
| afterward to gay that, while she
abominated liars at all times, she
abominated most those who consid-
ered it necessary or expedient to lie
in her defense.”
i “And that,” I asked, “is the whole
story ?”
| “Tt isn't a story,” Theresa reiter-
| ated petulantly. “You may call it, if
you like, an odd freak in masculine
psychology—"
|= “Or feminine,” I suggested, in de-
'fense of my own sex, “Whatever we
call it, I think you've earned some
luncheon.”
| “The sight of those two has simply
taken away my appetite,” sighed
Theresa.
. I pointed toward the Galeries
Flueries.
“Let's see if we can charm it back
wish a cocktail,” I suggested.
«I don’t feel I deserve a cocktail.
T've done nothing all the morning ex-
: sit in a chair and gossip to
“Then let us take some exercise by
walking around the Galeries. In one
other of those most engaging little
shops I hope you may see something
that you would condescend to acept
as a reminder of this most agreeable
‘day. And, Theresa,” I added, “I
trust I may never again hear you
describing yourself as a woman who
sold her soul and got nothing in re-
turn.”
“You don’t think that perjury im-
perils one’s immortal soul?” my cou-
sin inquired.
“you cannot divorce the act from
the motive that inspired it,” I an-
swered, “or from the result which it
produced. However badly you were
treated, it is due to you and you
alone that those young people are
still, more or less happily, united. I
| suppose somebody has to be thrown
to the wolves.”
“She gets the emeralds,” Theresa
muttered.
“Do you begrudge them ?”
My question failed to elicit a direct
answer.
“She'll leave him,” my cousin pre-
dicted, “when she can’t get anything
more out of him.”
After completing this routine, ap.
| Cumberland, Md, having traversed & ply a liberal amount of the campho:
. distance of 132 miles. Occasionally : ang h i
there were delays, but these were 150d leon Sng Loto oo the
inot permissible upon the completion | well as the wrists, extend the re.
of the Baltimore and Ohio road to
Cumberland.
A way mail coach, which both de-
| posited and received mail at all sta-
tions, left Wheeling at 7 a. m., each
day. Despite its extra duties it
managed to overtake the through
mail before entering Cumberlénd.
Ohio river steamboats arrived at
Wheeling as late as 10 a. m. with
passengers booked for the train to
leave Cumberland at 6 o'clock the
next morning. One hundred and
thirty-two miles up hill and down
hill, fording rivers and crossing
mountains, but connection must be
made; and it was, though at a
heavy cost to the company, Such
fast trips, however, could only be
indulged in by the wealthier classes.
“Stage drivers were ambitious. A
true test of their mettle was the de-
livery of the President's message.
The letting of contracts by the Post
Office Department hinged on these
deliveries, and if a driver failed to
make good time it meant the can-
cellation of the contract with his
employers,. and the transfer to a
rival company. Dave Gordan, a not-
ed driver, - once carried the Presi-
dent’s message from Washington
to Wheeling, a distance of thirty-
two miles in two hours and twenty
minutes. He changed teams three
times in this distance. Bill Noble,
who died in the '80’s I believe claim-
ed to have made the best time on
record. He professed to have driven
from Wheeling to Hagerstown, Md,
185 miles, in fifteen and a half hours.
“In 1852 coaching began to de-
cline. In that year the Baltimore
and Ohio Railroad was completed £6
Wheeling, and thereafter stages to
and from Cumberland were hauled
by two horses instead of four.
Finally there was only an aged-look-
ing coach plying between Washing-
ton and Brownsville, 24 miles east.
The dog trot of yesterday is a mis-
erable contrast to the quick time of
modern busses. In olden days driv-
ers’ orders were to make the time
o- kill the horses. Teams were
driven ten miles at a full run. If a
horse dropped he was quickly un-
harnessed, and if unable to travel
further was drawn aside, and the
journey resumed.”
cement.
ENGLISH LAW DEMANDED
ATTENDANCE AT CHURCH,
Sunday holiday makers and trip-
pers will be interested to know that
a statutory law in England years
ago prohibited such frivolity, says
the London Daily Mail. The Act of
Uniformity, 1552, requires: All per-
sons, except those dissenting from
the worship of doctrines of the
Church of England and usually at-
tending some place of worship not
belonging to the Church of England,
are, if they have no lawful or rea-
:
deavor to attend their parish church
{or accustomed chapel, or, if reason-
| ably prevented from so doing, some
other place where the divine service
of the Church of England is per-
i formed, on all Sundays and other
! days ordained and used to be kept
{as holy days, and to abide there
| orderly and soberly during the time
{ of common prayer, preaching, or
| other divine service there performed.
| Failure to observe this law renders
! the offending “parishioner or inhabi-
| tant of a parish” who is not legally
' exempt from atttendance at divine
| service on Sundays and holy days
| “liable in proceedings taken against
‘him in the ecclesiastical courts to
be censured for the offense, ad-
| monished as to his attendance in the
i future, and to be condemned in the
' costs of the proceedings.”
sonable excuse for absence, to en- |
«you don’t suppose she's learned
{ her lesson?”
Theresa emitted a hoot of derisive
! laughter: ‘Mildred? How little I've
| peen able to make you understand!
! The only person who has learned
| anything from this business is my-
| geif.”
| «And you——?” My courage fail-
| ed me before I reached the end of
! my question.
| «1 ghan't sell my soul again,”
| Theresa declared with noticeable de-
— From the Public Ledger.
cision.
|
| —Subscribe for the Watchman.
ducing lotion applications to cover:
these members.
The exercise should be taker
twice daily and always should be
followed by the reducing lotion ap.
plications. To make the reducing
lotion add two one-ounce cakes of
camphor (finely shaved) to one quar
of rubbing alcohol.
Let stand in an airtight containe:
for twenty-four hours. Always pal
this lotion on. Rubbing produce:
friction and frequently makes the
skin burn. This is not especially
harmful, but since it can be avoid
ed, why not?
—The abundant use of nourish
ing cream should be used to fil
out the hands and wrists if they ar:
too thin, Wrists rarely need thi:
attention, but hands frequently do
The bones sohuld be covered wit]
sufficient flesh to give the hands :
rounded soft contour, but not enougl
to make them appear pudgy or fat.
Spreading the fingers as far apar
as you can, bringing them togethe
and then spreading them again, re
peated over a period of three o
four minutes, acts as an exercis
which will help to develop the mus
cles of the hands and fingers. Bu
this is not sufficient to fill out reall
scrawny hands, and so the exercis
must be finished off with nourishin
cream.
Cocoa butter is one of the bes
known nourishing elements, but fre
quently the process is slow unles
some means of making the coco
butter penetrate in a larger quant
ty than it normally does is found.
Holding the hands in very wan
water, not hot, tends to open th
pores and thus enables cocoa butte
to penetrate more quickly and i
larger amounts. Then, too, gent!
but continued massage after a lil
eral application of cocoa butter aic
materially. If you want to use tt
lanolin, cocoa butter and miner:
oil nourishing cream it is splendi
but on hands where the tissues ai
less delicate the plain cocoa butte
will be sufficient if you use plenty «
it and massage it well into the ski:
To massage begin at the tips «
the fingers and smooth the finge:
i of the other hand gently down f{
i the wrists. Make the pressure fir:
but not harsh and the skin must }
well covered with cocoa butter
that the fingers slip easily.
—The most convenient height f
a kitchen table surface is eight i
ches below the workers’ elbow.
—A bread that never grows sta
and that is quite equal to cake
serve for luncheon, supper or ti
popular afternoon tea, sounds like
| fairy tale, but the following test:
| recipes are guaranteed to be su
| breads. The secret of the first re
ommendation is that it “keeps” f
{ four or five days in a crock or ti
| bread box, and the second is owl
| to the fruits and nuts, that go in
| its construction.
|
Oatmeal Rasin Bread.—Wash o
! cupful of seedless raisins and m
with three cupfuls of rolled oa
! distributing thoroughly. Pour ov
“one quart of boiling water and a
| three tablespoonfuls of dark mole
i ses and one scant tablespoonful
! salt. Mix well and allow the mi
ture to stand until lukewarm. D
| solve one yeast cake in a quarter
‘a cupful of tepid water and be
‘into the other ingredients; then s
{in enough white flour to form
i dough that can be kneaded. If
i bread mixer is used, the dou
{ should leave the sides in a good fii
{ pall. This is necessary, as it see)
| to grow less stiff by standing.
| low the dough to rise until double
bulk (about one and a half hours
{a warm place) then form ir
{ loaves, place in three greased pe
{ and when again double in bulk ba
'in a moderate oven (about
| degrees) for one hour. In baking,
'is well to remember that this bre
i will scorch more quickly than |
| ordinary loaf.
' This bread should not be cut :
| 24 hours after it is made and 1
\ splendid food values for the grc
| ing child, as well as grown ups tl
; spend most of their time in office
a coc eee——
—We do good job work promi