GOLDEN SAND.
To me in shadows as I planned
New knowledge, heart afire,
There came a girl whose hair
fanned
By a strange wild desire,
Hiding her face she took my hand
And gave me golden sand.
Curious, I took the
An instant sorcery
“Measure no hours, said she, and knelt
To stay beside my knee.
But I must look at what she dealt.
And saw the last grain melt.
was
grains, and felt
“You chill me like one from the dead.”
Said I: “lift up your face.”
So with a sight she raised her head.
Full of a troubling grace:
“Men call me Happiness,” she said,
Looked one long look, and fled.
ec —— A ———————
ON HOG'SBACK REEF.
Moored to the rotting pier a fisher-
man's dory, old and worn, swung on
the smooth surges that ran under the
dilapidated structure. The sun was
setting. Seaward a wall of misti-
ness caught the waning light, and
to the experienced eye of the single
individual lounging on the string-
piece it spoke loudly of coming fog.
The man was young, roughly
dressed in oilskins, old rubber boots,
and a ‘“sou’easter,” and bore the un-
mistakable stamp of a fisherman.
Almost a giant in figure, his clean-
shaven face was singularly gentle
in its expression, though about it
was something of an air of sorrow
or depression as his vacant gaze
was fixed on the cold distance.
Presently, behind him the loose
planks rattled under a heavy tread.
“Say there, you! What'll you
take me over to Sisquinet for?”
The sitting man gave a slow and
sidelong glance at the well-dressed
stranger, spat pensively into the
water, and returned his attention to
the distance before he gave voice to
the spiritless reply.
‘“'Bout a dollar,” said the other,
vigorously and in a tone of relief,
“And when will that be?”
“Maybe five minutes; maybe an
hour. Waitin’ for a bucket o’ clams.”
“But, man, it will be black dark
in an hour!
“Well, what of it?"
“Oh, nothing! Only I ought tobe
in Sisquinet right now. I got on
the branch road by mistake, and
there won't be another train out to-
night.”
The stranger kicked aside a pair
of old oars and, seating himself on
the stringpiece, took a cigar-case
from his pocket. It was well filled,
but without tendering it to the fish.
erman, he selected a cigar and pro-
duced to light up. “Say,” he con-
tinued, rolling the Havana in his
thick lips, and dressing his slightly
grayed mustache with a pudgy hand
on which glistened a diamond-—*“sa
do you know a chap namel M:
over to Sisquinet? His father's
just dead.”
“Sure, was the terse reply.
“Know him well?”
“Sense I was a sucker. Decent
kind of a feller, too.” The voice
drawled as if words were an effort.
“Yes? Well, he's the man I want
to see. You can show me where he
lives?”
The other turned and looked
squarely at his questioner. “Lives
close to me, Mr. —Mr.—"
“Mr. Selover."”
“Yaas. Mr. Selover. They call
me Roger. I live to Sisquinet.”
“Do yer? Well, is Maxwell a hard
man to deal with? Spunky, you
know, or is he easy-going like his
father was? I knew his father, but
I don’t know him, you see.”
“Lord!” exclaimed the fisherman,
with his first show of either anima-
tion or interest. “Hard? I should
say not! Easy as an old gum boot!
Between me an' you he's plumb
simple at times, I'm an ‘old friend
o' his. If you'll excuse me, what
be ye goin’ over to see him about?
He don’t have many o' your figger
callin’ at his shack.”
The stranger hesitated a moment.
“Well, I don't mind telling you as
his friend,” he finally said. “It is a
disagreeable piece of business for
both of us. I-I am Mr. Jacob
Lamson's lawyer. Perhaps you've
heard of him. He used to live in
Sisquinet, years ago, and—"
“Lamson!” interrupted the other.
“Him what holds one share more'n
half in Maxwell's schoaner?” The
fisherman seemed fully alive now.
“Precisely. Mr, Lawson still owns
the controlling interest in several
vessels in Sisquinet.”
“That's right. Have I heard of
him? I should smile! An’ so you're
his lawyer, hey? Well, I want to
say right here that your client's a
skunk—a low-down dogfish. Why
don’t he put his share o' money to
make repairs? The boys can't do it
all an’ give him half profits, too;
an' so there's a bunch of vessels
drawed up on the bench jest goin’
to rot—mo good to nobody. He
won't repair nor sell—an’ he don't
care, ‘cause he's rich. Max's
schooner is the only one that's fit
at all! Yes, sir; your man’s cussed
mean, if ye don't mind my sayin’
i”
“That may be your opinion, mw
friend, and one for which my client
cares nothing,” replied the stranger,
with a touch of asperity. “But this
is purely a matter of business. Mr.
Lamson is going to seli Maxwell's
schooner,”
The face of the fisherman lighted.
“No!” he exclaimed. ‘To Max?"
“Hardly,” was the calm return,
“To parties in Boston. I believe, The
point is this. The contract came fo
your friend from his
has recently died, and my client
holds the controlling interest. Now
the money Mr. Lamson has already
paid for repairs and improvements
juts about eats up young Maxwell's
equity in the vessel. T regret he
will get nothing.”
“Nothing ?"
| Good
‘Won't Lamson sell to him?
Lamson to sell his interest to youug
Maxwell, but he is obdurate—and
perhaps He had no love
for old Maxewll. Do you follow
me?"
“I'm in yer wash,” returned the
other, his face suddenly clouding.
“And what in the devil do you want
to see Max now for?”
“To give him legal notice
settle
arise.
was mild or hot headed.”
“Yaas—yaas, I see,” said the oth-
er, nodding slowly as he got to his
feet. “But this'll be an awful crack
for his wife! He ought to git red-
headed over it, but he's just fool
erough not to. Well, there's nothin’
I can say, I suppose. I'm goin’ up
to the store for a minnit. The
seegar o' yours makes me hanker
fora smoke. No thankee—I wouldn't
think o' robbin’ ye.” And with that
the speaker turned and walked
slowly up the pier, his bronzed
face indicative of extreme disgust,
The little building toward which
he airected his steps seemed to hang
on the end of the steep street, and
an old sign across its front gave no-
tice that cne Thomas Pemberton
dealt in general merchandise. The
fisherman entered the gloomy and
odoriferous interior, lounged up to
the knife-scored counter, and greet-
ed the proprietor.
“Hllo, Tom!
“Hello Roger! What can I do for
ou?"
“Just want to buy a seegar an’
borrow a lantern. Goin’ to take a
landshark across the bay, an' I
reckon he's afraid o' the dark.”
“Don't say! Who it he?”
“Feller named Selover; says he's
lawyer to miser Lamson. Says he
came up to sell the Luella, What
do ye think o' that? Nice news,
hey?”
“You don't tell me! Feller witha
gray mustache an' a flash ring?”
“Yass.”
The proprietor opened wide his
eyes. “Him a lawyer to Lamson!
he exclaimed, a mixture of astonish-
ment and derision in his voice ashe
looked up questioningly at his custom-
er; then he glanced at the two men
sitting by the empty stove and jerk-
ed his head toward the rear of the
store. At the unspoken hint the
man called Roger followed with
something like wonder on his calm
countenance. When, some ten min-
utes later, the two returned to the
front the fisherman's face was flush-
ed and he was whistling softly. Ab-
and
' stractedly swinging the borrowed
lantern, he walked slowly from the
store like one in deep thought. The
proprietor followed him to the door
and glanced over the hay,
“Say, Roger, looks mighty like
for a'comin' don't it?”
The other looked up and answer-
ed, absently, “Sure.”
“If Iwas you,” continued Mr. Pem-
berton, “I'd tow him astern for a
spell, or, better yet, I'd set the
sucker on Hogsback rocks and let
the tide fix him fer fair. Such peo-
ple hain't no right to live in this
world. Well, my duty to Kitty.
night.”
As the fisherman walked slowly
back, toward the little pier his erst.
while mild expression gave place to!
hard lines around the mouth, avd his
clean jaw worked nervously. Pres.
ently he halted, lost in deep thought
but finally b t his great hand
down on his oilskinned thigh with
a resounding slap and went his
way with accelerated steps. He
found the stranger smoking in the
gathering dusk, and the bucket of
clams had arrived. Across the bay,
on a distant headland, the mellow
glow of the Sisquinet
out like a star.
Within the next ten minutes the
dory was running quietly over the
long waves, its little sail hardly
bulging under the weakening wind
To the lawyer it appeared as if
they were floating out into space,
for almost immediately after the
start the threatening mist had crept
Light shone
in from the sea, which, with the
failing light, cut off even the loom
of the land ahead, For a time nei-
ther of the occupauts spoke, but at
length Roger gave voice to his
thoughts.
“Say, won't Lamson give Max no
show at all?” he asked, appealingly,
as he leaned toward his er,
“I believe we have gone thorough-
ly over the ground,” was the terse
reply.
“Well then,” was the earnest re-
turn, “Lamson is just goin’ to ruin
Max. It'll take the bread out o' his
mouth to sell the schooner now, an’
him only lately married to the nicest
little gal in Sisquinet. Say, that in-
terest in the Luella is all he's got
in the world. He never dreamed o'
such a thing happenin’. He never
"had no trouble with Lamson, if his
dad did. An’ he’s put a heap o'
work on that craft, This here
traverse will knock him over flat-
ter'n a white squall, an’ nigh kill
his wife. I think a pile o' Max.
Max
hain’'t got the money, but you can
bet he'll raise it. Say, won't ye
help him out?
The fine face was pathetic, and
the low voice held an unmistakable
note of Pleading, but the listener was
unresponsive. e waved an impa-
tient gesture with his fat hand. “No
I told you. Mr, Lamson is a good
hater; he don't forget what the
People of Sisquinet, and especially
axwell and his father, have said
about him.
talking? I can't do anything
I see. Ye needn't say no more, I
reckon ye feel some bad yourself,
an’ I'm glad I haven't got your
job. After all, there's more’'n one
way to catch fish!”
pe ae into sil H
| man r nto silence, e
| puffed vigorously on the JBipe he
had filled and lighted, but the lines
father who of his face, which had relaxed ashe
begged for his friend, grew hard
again.
Time passed, and as darkness fell
| apace the wind fell with it, untilat
there was hardly force enough
| length
[to keep the dory under way.
gigne of land, both before
hind, had long since vanished: even
“Nothi . I have tried to get Mr, the friendly light
os 3 Point was lost in the thickening
aly smiifififcientes Mal may
's why I asked if he,
tical remark the
and be-'
from Sisquinet
fog. Vision became contracted, and
to the city man the condition made
the rate of the boat's prgress and
its direction at once a matter of
mere guesswork. The swells had
| grown heavier, indicating open wa-
‘ter, and once in a while a wave
‘gathered head and broke with a
| hissing sob that was startling to
the passenger.
And by this time he was more
than anxious that the trip should
end. The motion of the boat had be-
come mighty unpleasant to him and
from his reckoning they should have
‘arrived at Sisquinet long since; they
‘had been out for apward of two
hours, but as yet there were no
signs of their destination. Mr. Se-
lover had become uneasy and per-
plexed.
And it finally dawned upon him
that his morose pilot was in a quan-
dary; for, as the fog thickened, the
fisherman's face, now barely dis-
cernible, bore a troubled look which
he made no effort to conceal. Roger
finally knocked the ashes from his
long-extinguished pipe, shifted him-
self in his seat, tried to pierce the
gloom on all sides, listened intently,
and otherwise showed anxious watch-
fulness, At length he broke the
protracted silence.
“I declar’ for it! I wish I hed
brought a compass! Damn a fog any-
how!"
“Don’t you know where we are?”
asked the other mightily disturbed
by the tone of his guide.
“Listen!” came the irrelevant ex-
clamation. “Do you hear that?"
“Hear what?"
“Breakers, by the Lord! Sure as
thunder the tide is settin' us on the
Hogsback!"
As the man ceased speaking,
‘through the silence there came the
muffled boom of a distant surf. The
stranger caught the sound and per.
spiration started from his forehead.
“The Hogsback!" he feebly exclaim.
ed turning as weak as the water about
him while the fog-beads hanging
thickly on his heavy brows and
mustache did not soften his expres-
sion of sudden fear,
“What do ye know about Hogs-
back rocks?” demanded the fisher-
man.
“Nothing but what Mr. Lamson
has told me. I don't see how you
got out so far.”
“Me?” came the unexpeciadly for-
cible reply, “I didn't make the
tide run an’ the wind stop blowin’,
nor I didn't make no fog.” What's
‘more, I never asked ye to come
aboard. Can't a man get lost?”
“I-—1 beg your pardon, What can
we do?”
“By thunder! I don’t know what
to do; ain't anything to do, as 1
see. If I had oars I'd try torow,
but like a dum fool I forgot ‘em.
Ye noticed 'em lying on the pier,
didn’t ye?"
The lawyer nodded despairingly;
the other fell into what appeared to
be a perplexed silence. Presently the
| latter spoke again: “We'r sartain
gettin’ nearer them rocks! I can
hear them breakers plainer-—can't
ye? The tide 4, settin’ us on Strong.
we may h past ‘em. e
Thea I hope so!” By
“Are we iu great danger?” asked
the lawyer, his heavy voice weaken-
ed by apprehension.
“Well, ye ought to know what it
means to go on the rocks in a surf,”
was the uncomforting rejoinder.
“I'm fair to say that I don't like
this traverse a damn bit better
than ye do. Can ye swim?"
The perturbed passenger
groaned. “Not a stroke.”
“That's bad! Sorry I ever got ye
into this muss; but it wa'nt my
fault. How could I ha’ known? Be
ye a married man?"
“Yes-—and two children.”
“Well, we've got to trust in the
‘Lord an’ do the best we can. If we
‘hit sand we'll have show, but if
it's to be rock—well—I don't know
that swimmin’ would help any. Lis-
fairly
ten to that! Sure as thunder we're
goin’ on!"
And to the lawyer's strained
senses it was only toc evident that
the man was right.
‘now thick and the desperation of
the situation intensified by the im-
Possibility of seeing mere than ten
eet away. Mr. Selover, being a
‘coward was on the verge of e,
Within the space of five minutes his
‘ruddy face had lost its color and his
features grown haggard. The “shut.
in" feeling caused by the blanket of
| moisture, demoralizing to any nerves,
| made his a wreck, and it was all he
could do to keep from exposing his
abject terror as he sat on the thwart,
loose-mouthed and clutching the gun-
wale of the boat.
| By this time the dory had hardl
| way enough to keep across the trou
(of the I swells, but to the
'landsman, listening to the growing
| thunder of the breakers, it seemed
|as if the frail craft was flying to its
| destruction, Presently a wave broke
in phosphorescent foam close to the
boat, and the gaunt outlines of a
great, swaying spar-buoy slid by.
It was a startling sight. As the
fisherman caught a glimpse of the
mighty stick he gave a shout and
‘sprang to his feet. “Stand by!” he
yelled, dropping his hold on the til-|
ler and catching up the borrowed
lantern. “By Heaven! it's comin’!
| Ye set still. Tl do the best I can
| for ye.
. It was strenuous moment to both
| parties.
into the hollow of the rol-
| shore.
| time the dory wallowed drunkenly;
| finally it seemed lifted by an un-
seen
“Stern all!” shouted the sailor,
bottom with a shock. The next
sécond it slid upward a few feet
and then rolled over,
But before the last the
burly fisherman had joaped Jsoin the
dory, and grasping his terri and
hulf-paralyzed passenger by the col-
lar, dragged him unceremoniously
through the receding breaker, and
landed him above the rush of the
The fog was
For the boat, relieved of
And what's the use of | or direction from the tiller, at once
fis " wyaas, lers, and a toppling sea caught her
ly he Asberiman Seliled BACK. “ass, | oF Tre Dit ionvie: loro thot
Soon each wave became a.
| white-capped menace and for a
force and hurled forward.
ab |
the boat came down and struck hard
“Fortnit we struck a pocket o
'sand!” he said, looking at the be-
draggled man who was coughing up
the brine he had taken in. “There's
rock to both sides of us, but the
minnit I seed the spar I sensed
where we war. Nice kettle o' fish,
ain't it?”
“Thank God we are out of it!"
gasped Selover, regaining his powers
of speech. ‘This will be an eternal
lesson to me! I was a fool to trust
myself to a boat!”
“I don't quite see what ye gotto
thank God about,” said the other.
“We happen to be safe for a min-
nit or so, but ye evidently don't
know that the Hog'sback is three
foot under water at high tide. No
livin' soul could keep a hold on the
rocks in the run o' the sea. An’
the dory's a wreck.”
The lawyer's jaw dropped as he
sat staring at the speaker, For a
moment he was overcome-—too over-
come to move. And if he hoped for
something to mitigate the force of
the blow of this piece of information
he was disappointed; there was no
comfort forthcoming; instead, the
fisherman sat down and, pulling off
his boots, emptied the water from
them, and then divested himself of
his heavy oilskin. The two men
remained silent for a space while
the froth of the breakers shot up
closer. At length Selovers, shivering
from cold and fright, got to his feet
and his agony of mind was plain
in the tone of his voice.
“What are you going to do?" he
faltered,
“What am I going to do?" was
the calm return. “What do ye
s'pose 7"
“Good God, man! You are not
going to leave me here on the reef
to die alone!" was the sudden and
frenzied exclamation.
“Does seem hard,” wa: the un-
feeling reply, ‘but Idon't see how
it would better ye by me dyin’ with
ye. 'Sides, I got a wife, same as
ye, if I hain't got children.”
“And you can swim ashore?”
“Easy. The sea’ll be ca’'m on the
land side.”
“Almighty God! How long before
the tide covers the reef?’ demanded
the lawyer, the fear of death in his
voice.
“Near as I can guess it'll be
slack water on the flood in about
two hours.”
“Two hours? You could bring
help in that time!”
“I might try -supposin’' all went
right,” said the big man. Then he
cleared his throat, and his voice
grew harsh. “See here, my friend,
I'd have to ask Max to get ye
ashore, he bein’ my nearest neigh-
bor. Do ye think he'd thank me
for bringin' ye down on him?”
“But this is a case of life and
death.”
“Yaas; it is to him, too.”
“Oh, don't talk nonsense now!
I'll give you anything to save me.”
“An' what'll ye give Max?"
“Anything he demands. Almighty
Heaven! e can't haggle here!”
The fisherman's face changed.
“Will ye give Max the schooner?
I'm mighty sorry to be makin’ tarms
with a dyin’ man, but it's Max ye
will have to depend ‘on, an’ I'm
workin’ for him.”
“I'll do that, or anything. I'll see
that he gets the schooner; I'll give
you a hundred dollars if you send
him-—or anyone. I can't be left
here to die like a rat; Good God,
man, how have you the heart to
think of such a thing? Can't you—"
“Say, you'd better shut up about
havin’ heart,” interrupted Roger,
snapping his strong jaw. “Ye didn't
‘care a cuss when I showed ye what
a hole ye would put Max in; an’
now ye cries for him to save ye,
Say, I wouldn't take yer word for
anything-—if you'll excuse me for
sayin’ so.”
“Why not? I wil"
“Why not!” came the explosive
interruption. “Because you're a
coward an’ a liar; that's why not.
Soon as ye got ashore ye'd go back
on it all, Now I'll help ye on
jest one condition; an’ that is ye
put yer change o’ heartin black an’
white right now. If I don't show,
writin’ to Max he won't come-—an’
ye couldn't blame him."
“I'd do it gladly; and I'd give you
a check this moment,” was the ea-
ger return; “but you know it can't
be done here. Don't be absurd at
such a time. I'll take my oath—"
“Damn yer oath!” was the vocif-
erous return. “You write it. I got
a pencil—a pencil is good in law—
an’ I can fish out some paper, too,
an' there's the glim.”
The fisherman drew a box of wa-
terproof matches from his pocket
and lighted the uninjured lantern,
after which he produced the stump
of a pencil and an old letter. Tear-
ing off the blank page, he handed it
to the la Tr,
“Ye got to be sudden,” he con-'
tinued, harshly. “Jest make a plain
bill o' the schooner Luella to Mr.
Thomas R. Maxwell, puttin’ in the
roper consid'ration, an’ don't ye
rgit to sign yer own name to it,
Mr, Jacob Lamson, or I'll let ye
lie here an’ rot before I'll lift a fin-
ger for ye."
The lawyer blinked.
ejaculated.
“Oh, I'm on to ye, sir; ye an’ ver
playin’ off lawyer. Ye be a foxy
villain. It was Tom Pemberton what
put me wise, but if ye hadn't been
so cantankerous mean about yer
seegars I'd never gone up to the
store for one an' knowed about ye.
{An’ by gosh! I clean forgot the
smoker, after all. Git a move on.
It might be pleasant news to Max
to hear ye are out on Hogsback in
a risin’ tide, Hurry up; time's
“Huh?” he
i goin'."
There was no geniality in the
voice of the big man. If he was.
not honestly ugly he was honestly
indignant, and Mr. Lamson, alias!
| Selover, feeling himself completely |
| trapped, bent his head under the
lash of the other's words and wrote
|in silence, He made out a rough
| but legal document, the fisherman
| holding the lantern over him and
| eyeing the cringing figure with an
| expression of extreme disgust while
the fog billowed thick about them.
Just as the writer finished signing
|
waves, himself wetonly to the hips.
his name a roll of spume washed to
his feet.
“Be quick! For God's sake be
quick!” he said, thrusting the pa-
per into the hand of his hoped-for
savior.
But the other seemed to be in no
haste then. “That'll make Max's
little gal the happiest woman in the
hu?’ o' Sisquinet,” he said, folding it
carefully and putting it in his pocket.
“That is settled! Come along; we'd
better get to the shore side. I'm
some chilled. Ain't ye?” The voice
was now as smooth as oil.
Mr. Lawson was chilled, body and
soul; but he had other things to
think of; his precious life was not
yet out of danger. “H .» long be-
fore Maxwell can get to me?” he
asked humbly.
“ "Twon't be two hours; not
enough to drown ye, 1 reckon.
follow an’ don't tumble.”
They went over the rocks, the
lantern-bearer going easily and rap-
idly, the other scrambling along in
his desire to keen within sight of the
illuminated haze made by the light,
It was a terrible journey to the
city man. Hogsback Reef he knew
to be a quarter of a mile in length,
with about the same distance of
open water between it and the main-
land, but he seemd to have gone
twice that space before he protest-
ed. “How much farther?” he final-
ly gasped.
“Only a piece more, 1 guess”
came back the cheerful answer. Pres-
ently they struck a strip of hard
nd, and alomst immediately the
bg above them turned golden. The
guide whirled his lantern aloft and
wheeled around on his panting fol.
lower.
“Well, by my great-grand-mother’s
aunt's black cat!" he exclaimed. “If
that aint Sisquinet Light, an’ if this
ain't Sisquinet beach! TI must ha’
mistook Spindle P'int for the Hogs-
back!" He halted, facing the breath-
less man, his benevolent countenance
bearing a broad grin.
Between tremendous relief and
acute astonishment Mr, Lamson was
momentarily brought to a mental
and physical standstill; but as he
caught a full view of his guide's
smiling face a light rivalling that
from the towering beacon above him
broke on his brain. For a moment
he gazed at his companion, his
face gathering anger.
“You infernal scoundrel!” he broke
out. “You knew it all the time!”
The fisherinan threw back his head
and laughed outright, “Course I
did. Was ye thick enough to think
I'd sailed these waters for twenty
years to get lost in Sisquinet Bay
‘cause it fogged? I never said we
long
You
was on the Hogshack. Ye jumped
at iL.”
“You lie! You said « the rocks
were covered at high water.”
“On Hogsback. So they be.”
“And that you'd have to swim
ashore.”
“Not once I didn't. I said I could
swim ashore, Come now.”
“You intended to deceive me all
along. You--
An' who was ye tryin’ to deceive?
Ye was afraid .o come into town
under yer right name. It's been
dog eat dog, hain't it? What be ye
| kickin’ about? Ain't ye safe?”
“You rascal! You obtained that
paper under the pretense that it was
Maxwell on whom I would have to
depend, He can't make it hold.”
“Can't hey! See here; I happen
to be him--Thomas Roger Maxwell
an’ at yer service. Mr. Selover, Guess
it was Max what brought ye here—
jest like I said he would.” The
man's face was shining with quiet
good-humor. “Don't bile over, now,”
he continued, in a conciliatory voice.
“I'm goin’ to let ye off that check
for a hundred. Ye never was inno
danger. Did ye think an old dory-
man would be such an ass toleave
his oars ashore an’ put off in a fog
unless he had his bearin's to al-
most a hair? I was layin’ for that
sparbuoy, an’ when I saw it Ik.ow-
ed jest where we was.”
“You damnable"
“Yow now, I wouldn't, if I was
you. Look here; ye don't think I'd
take your share o' the Luella as a
gift, do ye? Not much! I'm goin’
to rip that paper to bits jest as soon
as we agree about the sale, I know
tain't witnessed, but knowin’ what
I know about your change o' heart,
I don’t think you'll deny signin’ it.
See, I'm goin' to do the fair thing
by ye. Come now. Ye go with
me an’ Ill fix ye up dry, and we'll
have a hot supper, an’ ye'll see
Kitty an’ feel lots better, Ye don't
hate me, really. An' ye know what
ye said about tryin' to get Lawson
to sell to Maxwell. Ye can't go
back on that, can ye? Come now.”
Mr. Lawson was something of a
philosopher, and, when u
a quick thinker. His brain now
worked rapidly. What a court in
that region would do for him in
case he contested the paper was
hardly problematical. He knew when
he was beaten, and was aware that
‘half a loaf was better than no
bread. But the story, that galled
him. He capitulated, though still
sparring feebly,
“And you told me that Maxwell
was so! he blustered, losing his
aggressive attitude, “but he was
willing to frighten me to death, and
now ynu will end by muking me
ridiculous.”
The fisherman caught the change
and laid his finger on the sore spot.
“Scared, hey! Well, 1 guess ye
were-—some. But ye wasn't half so
scared as I was when I knowed
what ye had come for, An’ soft!
Ye can bet I'm soft when I'm treat-
ed white; for unless ye go round
tellin’ about it, nobody won't know
how ye was saved from drownin’ on
the Hog’sback. Ain't that comin’
down easy?” -By Chauncey C.
Hotchkiss, in Harper's Weekly
— A —
Tess It was grand of you to dive
from that height, fully clothed, to
effect such a magnificent rescue.
Ted That's all very well, but:
what I want to know is——who push-
ed me in?
--Short days, cold nights, and un- |
favorable indoor ot limit the
blooming of the house plants at this
season.
FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN
DAILY THOUGHT
Unemployment cannot be relieved by
throwing women out of work and giving
their jobs to men. —Mrs. Harvey W.
Wiley, chairman of the National Council
of National Women's Party.
—Women's place, according to the
new census statistics, is not so
much in the kitchen as at the office
typewriter and the shop bench. In
the foreword to the thick volume
on woman in gainful occupations,
Seymour L. Andrews says:
“What ever opinions relative to the
sphere of women, the factis that, to
a considerable extent, woman's place
today is no longer in the home.”
The number of women teachers,
laundresses, s ervants and dress-
makers has deciined. There are
100,000 cobks less than ten years
ago. More womer are employed
as chauffeurs, cigar makers, book-
keepers. “elevator boys,” college pro-
fessors, lawyers and barbers.
Almost one woman in four ‘“gain-
fully employed” is married and pre-
sumably doing her own or the fam-
ily's housework as well as holding
an outside job. Of unmarried wo-
men, 486 percent, or nearly half,
are earning money.
The chief result of the great trek
of women to outsiwe work is that
one job after another has “taken on
a feminine color.”
The ascendancy of the American
woman is complete and assured,
After Count Hermann Keyserling
looked us over, he said that in
America all men are supposed to be
equal, but we are a two-caste coun-
try-—the higher caste peing formed
by the women as such.
“Women as a class are candidly
accepted as superior beings,” he as-
serts. He exaggerated a little per-
haps, for a great many women ac-
cept men as their equals.
—An effort to instruct single girls
in the art of happiness in marriage
is being made at the Bachelor Girl's
Exhibition at the Horticultural Hall
in London.
Girls contemplating marriage are
invited to enter the “Unexpected
Guest” competition in which they
must cook and serve a three-course
dinner within an hour. Method,
neatness, food value of the menus,
originality and palatability will score
in the test.
-~Three Palm Beach hats that
predict spring lines or all millinery
show the tendency to trim every-
thing. Flowers, feathers, patent
leather bandings and ribbon all are
popular.
~The better grade felt hats are
manufactured from the shorter hairs
of the furs of the rabbit, hare, musk-
rat, South American rat, beaver and
nutria. When lining is used, it may
be of slik or cotton.
~— Black and blue is marked for
color success, This combination
emerges as a color highlight of the
season and women everywhere are
enthusiastic over it.
There have been some tentative
essays in the direction of black with
pink or red or green but these met
only with individual favor. But
black combined with aquamarine or
turquoise blue seems to please every
woman, for it is flattering to both
blonde and brunette and the in.
| determinate type of coloring is also
much improved thereby,
It would seem that black and blue
clothes will be a hold-over into the
Spring season that is, sartorially
speaking, almost with us.
—The editor of Vogue dashed out
of his office today and shouted.
“Sixteen' 15, 12, 6, zero.”
Naturally it was presumed he was
calling football signals, but inquiry
proved he was merely having his
say about the length of skirts for
spring and summer.
His verdict was.
Sport dresses will be 16
from the ground.
The suit skirt will be 15 inches.
The afternoon dress, 12 inches.
The dancing frock will be six inch-
es from the floor.
The formal evening gown will
touch the floor and may even trail
a bit in the back.
Then the editor predicted the fav-
orite color for America this spring
would be a new blue, a slightly
warmer shade than the ordinary
blue, verging on purple.
Meanwhile it also developed that
women have become pajama-minded,
On the eve of the Paris openings,
the garment retailers of America
staged their annual spring style
show at the Hotel Astor.
; x gettied the argument not only
n favor of pajamas for loungi
and beach wear, but of the a
length, or longer, skirt. There were
even trains on some of the skirts,
Between the stunning wide-legged
pajamas and the equaily stunning
evening gowns, the afternocn frocks
seemed rather tame. They were de-
inches
‘void of sensational features. Skirts
cleared the floor by 12 to 14 inches.
The ensemble continues to score
heavily, although for evening wear
there was a marked perference for
the all-white gown topped by a
shorter coat or brilliant scarlet, capu-
cine, blue or some such livid hue.
—If you spill candle wax on your
things, put the spot over a bath
towel, smooth out the material
where the spot is, place a clean
blotter over it and press the blotter
with a hot iron. Usually the spot
is removed instantaneously Sy this
method.
If towel racks in the kitchen
are not nickeled, it's best to treat
"them to a couple of coats of white
enamel paint so they will not rust.
All kitchen and pantry shelves
should be painted, both top and bot-
tom, and then paper may be dis-
pensed with.
—Don't be afraid to go out of
doors this cold weather. A brisk
walk in the stinging air will make