Democratic watchman. (Bellefonte, Pa.) 1855-1940, January 08, 1932, Image 2

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EE —
——————— EE
And on his back the burden of the
Who made him dead to rapture and de-
A thing that grieves not and that never
Stolid and stunned, a brother to the ox?
Who loosened and let down this brutal
Whose was the hand that
this brow,
Whose breath blew out the light within
this brain?
slanted back
Is this the Thing the Lord God made
and gave
To have dominion over seca and land;
To trace the stars and search the heav-
ens for power;
To feel the passion of Eternity?
Is this the dream He dreamed whn shap-
ed the suns
And marked their ways upon the ancient
Down all the caverns of Hell to their
last gulf
There is no shape more terrible than
More tongued with censure of the world's
blind greed—
More filled with signs and portents for
the soul—
More packed with danger to the universe.
©O masters, lords and rulers in all lands,
Is this the handiwork you give to God,
This monstrous thing distorted and soul-
quenched ?
How will you ever
Touch it again with immortality;
Give back the upward looking and the
Rebuild in it the music and the dream;
Make right the immemorial infamies
Perfidious wrongs, immedicable woes?
straighten up this
O Masters, lords and rulers in all lands,
How will the Future reckon with this
How answer his brute question in that
When whirlwinds of rebellion shake all
How will it be with kingdoms and with
With those who sheped him to the thing
he is—
When this dumb terror shall rise to,
judge the world,
After the silence of the centuries?
(Concluded from last week.)
All eyes were for Dick and Rao,
superb horsemen and wily hog-
spearers both. Realizing they meant
business, the boar showed . 's
well-known belligerency, facing them
with furious grunts and only sheer-
ing off in time to dodge the spear-
heads. Suddenly he broke, and at
a lurching gallop headed for the
Dick was in the act of circling, so
that Rao was three lengths ahead of
him before he was around. Rao
reached the hog, but before he could
spear, it “jinked,” that lightning
break across a horse's feet which so
often saves a wild pig's life. Asit
crossed from right to left, Rao tried
the Rajput's lance-thrust, stretched
by his’ horse's neck, with all his
weight behind the rigid spear arm.
But the distance was too great.
The point struck the mass of hide
and gristle at the hump; the boar's
weight swept the lance across the
horse's legs and it was wrenched
from Rao's grip as he went on. In
a cloud of dust the hog bucked and
shook himself with rage.
Bikha said, “A novice's stroke.
He should know better. That hog is
a bad one!”
The boar had abandoned flight and
stood with slavered tusks weaving
to and fro, sunken red eyes glean-
ing. Dick rode at the animal, but
a fierce side slash of the massive
head turned his spear. He circled
and came at it again, when the gray
monster went to meet him with
clumsy leaps.
Before Dick could swerve, it was
beneath the dun. There were three
lightning upward slashes of the
tusks, then Dick was past, with the
boar after him like a mad thing.
The lifeblood poured from the dun’s
ripped flank. They saw it falter,
reel; then as Bikha muttered, “Ah,
Dick,” the dun was down on its rid-
er's leg, with the boar not fifteen
yards away.
Mona's heart was in her throat.
Abruptly her brain seethed with fan-
tastic newborn visions of a tran-
scendent life for her, affluent and
Bikha had hurled his horse for-
ward, whipping a sword from the
scabbard of a sowar of his escort,
as he passed,
hoofs Rao tore past, spearless. He
and the hog reached Dick together,
and as the yellow tusks went down
to rip the helpless man, Rao dived
—— |
«Bowed by the weight of centuries he right,
leans |
Upon his hoe and gazes on the ground,
The emptiness of ages in his face, |
‘wide and hard.
scorn he hung
| cut across
and was halfway to
Dick with outstretched blade, point
low, when with a clean drum of |
you old
the same, though. Ugh!
those tusks!”
Bikha said to Rao, “Brother, be-
fore you ride pig, better to learn to
use the spear
All at once they were aware of
Mona, pushing between them. She
was deathly pale, and her eyes were
She did not look
at Rao, and before her
his head. His hands
opened, closed again.
Dick said, “Near thing, old girl!
We owe Rac my life.” He put his
hand on Rao's shoulder.
Bikha was gazing at her narrowly,
with an appraising look on his olive
face. Suddenly she realized there
was knowledge, understanding, in
his regard. How much did he
know? And in what manner had he
come to knowledge?
«More than life has been saved,
my Dick,” he said with emphasis,
pointedly turned his back on Mona
and went to Rao. Bikha embraced
his brother.
The sun was no more than a
man’s height above the far Ghag-
gar hills when she came out on the
terrace in her riding things. The
syce was waiting with the Kathia-
wari, and she mounted and at once
struck off at a hard canter.
It was a week since she had
watched the dusi-brown squadrons
tripple from the square. At the
jast minute she had refused to go to
Simla with the other women.
She wanted to be alone for a long
time, to think, to co-ordinate her
jangled feelings, to scheme, to nurse
her chagrin and her injured pride,
and to decide what to do. She had
been so sure of Rao's capitulation.
Instead, he risked his life to snatch
from her the easy freedom which the
Fates had flung her.
She cantered down the cypress
avenue to the maidan, crossed and
rode out to the open desert. The
chill of dawn had gone, and the arid
heat begun.
at Dick but
A sense of unreality enveloped
her. Could this be she, alone in
this fantastic city, forsaken of all
men? June! Derby day, she reali-
ized. She should be at Epsom.
Not reckoning that but for her own
petulance she might have been at
Simla in the best of company, she
achieved a poignant self-pity, which
unaccountably swept into fear: fear
for herself, for her well-guarded
comforts; fear of the veiled vistas
of the years to come. She wheeled
‘and rode hard for hume.
When she pulled up at the terrace
a sowar of the regiment waited bv
his horse. He saluted. presenting
‘an envelope. “Rao Sahib Bahadur
sends salaam!”
Standing there, she read the note.
His words leapt out at her:
Fool that I was, to let my
chance of happiness pass by.
But these days here alone have
taught me, thinking what life
would be had that bear done its
work. There is only one thing
in the world for me, and that
is you. Forgive me. Take me
back; say you will come away
with me and I will make our
plans. The thought of it makes
me drunk with joy.
She had not failed. She had not
failed. Feeling weak at the knees,
she went inside and dropped into a
chair. Her sensation of relief was
abysmal. It was over—this life
she loathed.
The past for her was blotted out
in that one hour; the future glowed
as glamorous as it had ever been.
She was foot-loose, afloat and free
on life's stream again, out of the
To an adventur-
it was
pacid backwater.
er born, such as she was,
The sowar was leading his horse
away. She called, “Subbarkaro!”
He halted, stood, while she took her
pen and wrote, “I can be ready in
three days. I am too happy. Mona."
She waited in a fever of impa-
tience for his answer. At last it
came. It was exhaustive and ex-
Pal you
s 8
and he had
to the Pamirs to shoot sheep.
leave had been granted,
announced that he was
He would send camels and his trust.
ed men, meet her on the desert and
the neck of it to take the
train at
give out that she had changed her
mind and gone to Simla. Thus
there would be a generous period
when neither of them could be miss-
Write, then to Dick (he con-
cluded). Tell him the truth,
that you have done with him,
and ask to let you go. But do
not say it i§ with me. He
would guess what medns I would
take to throw him off, and he
would intercept us. And if that
happened, one of us would die.
and thwarted her.
‘ber into the quilted
She was to
She sat for a long time thinking line in the ghostly dawn ligh
‘of Dick, of the many times he had’
She me?” she asked the fellow.
i |
'a villa at Cannes; another in Italy. a turbaned head.
a 3 taly. and a camel heaved up, followed by
another, till the two were outlined |
Her disappoint-
for by their dress
He adored her elementally, knowing
what she desired in return for her
favors; he would never plague her
with incessant cant of things that
must be done for this or that mil-
dewed tradition.
In her new mood, Ratangarh city
changed its aspect. For the first
time she was conscious of its gem-
like loveliness.
It was the night. Dinner was
done; the day servants had gone.
She had sent the night chokidar
with a letter, to get him away.
Janki she had of, also. All
was . She wore her riding
clothes of Johdpur breeches and a
coat of Kashmir silk. The lamp-
light did not fill the room, making
but a yellow pool on the blue tiling.
Far off, a woman sang wailingly,
and a drum beat.
Mona's heart was pounding, and
she found herself wondering which
was the drum-throb, which her
heart. The scent of moughara bloom
and jasmine filled the air. It made
her think of Dick, whereupon she
lashed her mind to memories of her
anger to still a tiny qualm.
Now that the hour was near, her
calm wavered a little. She wished
they would come and end her sus-
pense. .
Suddenly she gave a start. Fram-
ed in the doorway was the grim fig-
ure of a ‘lonkhi cameleer, armed
barbarically with sword, Jezail and
dagger. She had not seen him come.
As she stood up, he salammed iow.
“Rao Sahib Bahadur commanded
me. If the presence wills, the
camels wait. And there are goods
to load?”
She was grateful for the need of
action. Barefooted men in gaudy
silks, at whose calves swung velvet
scabbards, bore off her trunks.
On the terrace it was very dark.
The fountain tinkled among the
roses. She made out two kneeling
camels, with baggage beasts loom-
ing behind them. One of those
kneeling bore the fantastic tented
howdah Rajputs use when their pur-
dah-women travel.
Her guide raised wne embroidered
silken curtains and helped her clam-
cradle around
the hump. The screen fell before
her, and at once the camel lurched
to his feet.
Within, it was dark as pitch and’
reeked of stale, heavy perfume. The
loose drapes swayed about her like .
the wings of evil things. Frantical-
ly she flung the curtain back on the
carved ivory support. The night was
dark, but starry.
They rocked in silence through
Shan Singh's exquisite garden,
through the winding streets, where
voices murmured from behind pierc-
ed screens.
Presently they were passing
through the date palms at the city's
rim. The tasseled tops hung black
and still against the myriad stars.
They thinned and dwindled, ceased,
as, straight ahead, Mona saw the
rim of an enormeus yellow _moon
slide up from behind a smc ve
of the desert sky line. They left
the last ragged palm, climbed a soft
rise, topped it, descended—and were
alone among the sands, Ratangarh
city left behind.
For all the hushed eerie atmos..
phere about her, at the thought her
spirits rose. That was the last
or the life that had galled her so.
She was going hack te what she
loved; Europe, where women ruled
men, not men women.
Yet at once her spirits sank again.
She wished desperately that Rao
would come soon. How long would
he be?
slid up, a gigantic yellow disk. In
its e light she saw her escort
clearly, a grim, hawkish figure,
perched on his camel's hump. He
Mona spoke to him. “When shall
‘we meet your master?” He did not
answer, did not turn his head.
impassive, and she shrank back,
crouc! in the saddle. She was
afraid, desperately afraid, all at
once. She gripped the pommel,
swaying to the camel's racking lurch
‘while hours dragged by. The moon-
light was brilliant now, the gently
swelling sky line silver against the
somber sky, pricked with stars.
Shadows of tall dunes lay on the
sand, impenetrably black.
More hours, more miles—on,
and on, till she lost all count of
‘time, till her limbs were numb with
Aeons after, she was snatched
‘from oblivion by the deep voice at
her ear. “If the presence wills?"
She had actually been asleep. The
into its hot, soft dryness.
|" The moon had set, and
was aware that it
unbroken sweep of
“When will your master meet
| clearly on the
| Dick loved you,
He had not said. The moon 8°
She called again, but he remained
She was so stiff |
The shoulders
ment was acute,
they were Tonkhis, like her escort.
As they neared, she saw that the
leader's garments and the accou-
trements of his came: were magnifi-
cent. Then he unwound the blue
silk puggree that was drawn across
his face against the dust, and flung
it behind him.
Her heart leaped for joy. It was.
Rao. The set of his head and the
lean contour of his cheek were un-
mistakable. She ran to meet him,
as his camel knelt.
ground, dropping on his feet to face
her as she stopped before him.
Her heart turned over and her
eyes stared with consternation. It
was Bikha, the king, dressed as a
Tonkhi chief.
He stood faintly smiling, regarding
her, it seemed, with a sort of benev-
olent toleration. Her overtaxed
nerves failed her at last. She shook
all over. She was so shocked that
she forgot her guilt, forgot the need
of concealment, forgot everything
but her loneliness.
«“Wh-where is Rao?” she faltered.
«past Landi Kotal, by this time.
He has a year's leave and has fled
from you, who would have him mur-
der his best friend.”
She swallowed, and her lips twitch-
ed. As from a great distance she
heard her own voice say, “But he
wrote me to meet him here.”
Bikha's white teeth flashed as he
smiled his negative. “No. I wrote
those letters. It seemed to me that
you had been long enough in Isul-
meer, and when my brother fled,
knowing your heart I presumed to
arrange for you the freedom that
you have so desired.”
“What do you mean?”
was hoarse.
“You know well
Her voice
what I mean.
brought you here.
You were received as one of us,
sharing our confidence, free of every-
thing we prize. But you have foul-
ed the place that made you welcome.
You were done with Dick, once you
found he held his duty higher than
your whims. You planned to dis-
card him like a sucked orange. You
did your best to drive Rao, who
loves you, to betray his friend, and
you hated him when he stopped that
boar and spoiled an easy freedom
for you.
“There never were such friends as
Rao and Dick and I, since we were
children. For generations our fath-
ers have been great men together
in this land. Yet, to serve your
ends, you would have destroyed all
that, put bitterness in place of loy-
“I didn’t! Oh, I didn't! I never
meant—" Mona stopped, for convic-
tion had descended on her. She
remembered the tall figure of Bikha
in the doorway, the night she first
had laid seige to Rao; she remem-
bered what Bikha had said to Dick
that night, and the grim understand-
ing. in his lgok after the boar had
died. She knew she was beaten by
a more subtle player.
He nodded, perceiving that she un-
derstood. “You have been clever,
madonna, but not clever enough.
You have forgoten that this is not
England. There is a proverb of the
desert people, ‘No pestilence like an
evil woman! They tie them up and
burv them in sand if they are ugly.
Ii they are beautiful, they cut their
“You are more fortunate than
they, for you have, instead, the free-
dom from your husband that you
have so desired. Where will you
? South are the sands.
the chiefs of Tonk. North, three
hundred miles to the railway and
Europe” —and she was penniless!
“Or will you go back to Dick and
say that you lied, that you do not
hate him as you told him in your
“You saw that?”
“Ten minutes after you wrote it.
Dick had it two days ago. The world
is yours, madonna. I wish you bet-
ter luck than these last months have
brought you!” His teeth gleamed
and his eyes searched hers, Then
his head went up with arrogance.
“And know that I, no less than
other men, have desired you greatly.
And if it should chance that the des-
ert is too hot, or you fear the arms
of Tonkhi lovers, or your pride will
not bend to beg your husband's
mercy, then it may be you will hon-
or me with your favors!
“ill sunset this man waits with
you, and if you would so delight my
heart, command him, and he will
bring you to a certain gate in the
south wing of Ratangarh Palace.
soft music, beauty such as few eyes
long as you are lovely. You shall
be chief of all my women, save only
uncie gave me.
“I go there now, to bid them pre-
for the honor that I dare to
pe may come to me. At sun-
down, the Tonkhi follows, with you
or without you. Yet remember,
that is a door from which there is
no |
He turned without bowing, mount-
ed his camel and set off, followed by
the Tonkhi who had come with him.
Mona stood slim and straight,
apply conservatism
He slid to the BF
‘ed blouse or
‘a man’s social-climbing
So gia im Wi her reckless dis-
. satisfaction th his
There are jewels and eunichs and make money rapidly; she can slay
3 wi be
have seen, that shall be yours 8 fo th her insatiable demands.
‘long and black, when the
awoke and glanced at the sun. He
| looked at her, tightened his beasts
mode of
ogy of
ment is a upon the mat-
ter of false pride about liviug
i has capitalized this as-
hol Over
pect of human psychology.
and out the mode to
there it is out
proclaim your poverty. It is quite
the thing, when visiting homes of
andeur there, to have your hostess
preside at
to behold a nursemaid
cutting down little Anne's frock to
suit sister Sue.
It is quite the thing to be “too
poor” to do this, or go there, or
purchase that.
America seems not quite sufficient-
ly sure of herself to abandon pros-
perity pretense, however.
Keeping up with the Joneses is
still responsible for the harassed
lines of strain that are written into
all too many faces of the men and
women you see in business and in
The difficult and nerve-twisting
game of spending more than is earn-
ed is still being played in the high-
tensioned atmosphere of the Ameri-
can home.
That national high-tension is sure-
ly as much responsible for our na-
{ional affliction of nervous heebee-
jecbies as the alleged topspeed of our
daily lives. In fact, it is fair to
assume that this top-speed is large-
ly created by the general frenzy to
keep up with one or another family
of Joneses.
The large cosmic joke of pretense
and pretentiousness is hourly being
played to the tune of speed, tension
and strain.
The ill-wind of the present eco-
nomic depression will have accom-
plished a national boon if it blows
to the American people the good
sense to despise the futile game of
keeping up with the Joneses.
The average American home is
like a runner in a race, straining for
place. Straining to pass every mem-
ber of his team; straining to reach
an arbitrary goal. Only in this case
the goal is not a specific one; it is
a teasing mirage of a goal which
lies eternally beyond the one achiev-
ed by a next door neighbor, a busi-
ness or a social rival.
In this desperate race families
are confronted with the nerve.rack-
ing frenzy of speeding up pretense
by living just a bit beyond the in-
come; the harassed knots begin to
show in the faces of those who must
provide not only the where-withal
but usually the nervous energy to
achieve that mathematical paradox
of spending more than is in hand.
The financial worries that must
hang over and oppress the men at
the head of such families!
What must be the wretchedness
when they awaken at that low-ebb
hours of 2 o'clock in the morning, to
lie sleepless with the worries that
confront these harassed heads of
families that are hell-bent on keep-
ing up with the Joneses. Install.
ments to be met on the new sedan.
New living room furniture to keep
up with the neighborhood modes in
living room furniture. Private
schools for the girls. Motorboats
for the boys. Furs for a wife who
would go her dearest enemy one bet-
ter. Facade. More front. More
and more of the ridiculous pretense
of pretentiousness.
No man who awakens day byday
to the demands of a family living
East, beyond its needs can be immune to
this physical and mental jeopardy.
Death to contentment, wisdom and
ideals lies in living beyond one's
There is something not only un-
dignified but highly ridiculous in the
spectacle of a group of these neck-
Wisdom seems a long way re-|
moved from the millions who even
in these
Upon the most casual analysis the
8 le so obviously becomes not
wo the candle.
Not a pretty picture, but one all
too apparent in the patterns of con-
temporary American life.
Women play a cruel role in this
We still have with us—may her
tribe decrease—the type of parasitic
non-productive woman whose alle.
giance to her husband is in propor-
tion to his earning capacity. She
is an almost infallible incentive to
instinct. She
inability to
If the present economic
| makes ridiculous this revolting spec-
‘ tacle, the
by the chill | the red-haired girl of Cutch mY mighty Ring will ive blown 9
. ——If you want high-class job
‘work come to the Watchman office. |
We aim to satisfy.
The sun was low, the shadows
girths, crossed t® hers, kicked it up
the advertise- ... home “Don't have to wear my
luncheon in a finely mend-
times of depression are
doubtless living beyond their means
Two lines taken out of my Ameri-
“Of course, everybody'll
From the time &
wife has to prod
him to get him into evening clothes,
he seems to have a natural prejudice
against any kind of fixing up.
| "At the opening of the Metropolitan
that thermometer of winter
fashions, practically 99.44 per cent of
the men wore tail coats. And it
‘also means, Mr. Man, that you're
going to be asked to wear youl
tuxedo a great deal more than usual
for dances, theatre parties and most
every occasion that isn't extremely
The seated man in the illustration
who has stopped a pal for a worc
about the Thanksgiving footbal
scores, shows you what's in fashior
for semi-formal affairs. He's turn
ed out in a tuxedo with peak lapel:
faced in dull grosgrain.
Notice the flat-lying, hardboilec
shirt of white linen—it's his specia
pride. And he did a pretty job or
his tie—a smart, pointed-end affair
It's of black silk, trimly pullec
around a collar with fair-to-mid
dling-bold wings.
Black oxfords, either of paten
leather or dull calf—black silk o
lisle socks—and a white handker
chief finish his outfit to the queen’.
The man standing up has a ver;
formal date. His coat has moder
ately wide, grosgrain—faced lapels
and tails reaching to the bend of hi
knees. The trousers come well uf
with silk braid over the side seam:
Vest, shirt and pique tie are white
‘So are the pearl studs. And h
| carries a collapsible top opera ha
(how the men have gone for 'em!)
1. Black silk or white pique waist
2. Hard-boiled white linen shirt.
3. Black or smoked studs an
4. Black silk tie with pointed end:
5. Black patent or dull calf ox
—Jt is almost as important t
have a thorough understanding c
cooking terms as it is to use goo
recipes. Too offen the success C
failure in cooking and baking can L
traced to the method of preparatios
‘and if the cook fails to discriminat
between beating and stirring an
‘folding and mixing she may expel
indifferent results. Cooking term
have very definite and distinct meal
which must be followed if suc
cess is assured.
To stir is to mix ingredients. W
stir for the purpose of blending ir
gredients and a circular motion
To beat is to turn the ingredien!
over and over for the purpose «
introducing a large amount of a
into the mixture. A rotary motien
used, constantly turning the mu
terial over, bringing what is at ti
‘bottom to the top. Beat with
‘long swing.
To whip is to beat rapidly mu:
terials that expand and undergo phy
‘ical change by the inclusion of air
To parboil is to boil until the m:
terial is partially done. One-thi
to one-half the full time of cookir
is usually implied.
To boil is to cook in actively boi
ing or bubbling water. There is 1
advantage in hard boiling exce
where material is to be kept apa
by the rapidly moving water.
To simmer is to cook slowly ju
below the boiling point of wate
212 degrees Fahrenheit and the sir
mering point 185 degrees Fahre
heit, so any temperature betwe:
permits simmering.
i to thread lean me
| with narrow strips of fat. A lar
ing needle is necessary to draw t
fat through the meat, but the te:
is often used to mean the addition
(fat by means of gashes cut in t
—Fairly tart, juicy, quick-cooki
varieties of apples make the Ix
pies. The first apples to ripen a
‘fall are sometimes a little unders
‘ed, and often tarter than one lik
'to eat unbooked, so it is a good id
to make apple pies of them.
| For the filling you will need 4 t
| apples, depending on their si
three-fourths cupful sugar, t
i cinnamon, if spices
|liked. After paring, quartering a
slicing the apples very thin, ps
| them carefully into the undercr
| so the cover will fit evenly. Sprin
|the apples with the sugar, salt a
| spice, mixed together, and dot w
' butter.
Place on the upper cr
after moistening the lower rim, a
A voice she did not recognize ;
“ WZ€ | press the edges together to hold
croaked, What-—are you doing? | the juice. Cut a slit to allow °
The fellow pointed to the sun,
mound, Spunk hia beast anMeRE: Lich or nl the crus go
ed east. Then her nerve went at! prown and the apples are tender
last. Anything, anything, but not —
‘to be left alone in that awful plain!| __A fresh fruit salad served w
Evening found them still there, “Wait, wait for me!” she called. lettuce and a rich cream may
the Tonkhi squatting where he had He stopped, and she stumbled af- | naise is a delightful dish to se:
from the saddle, squarely onto the fanned her injured conceit into rage, He looked up. “My lord com- ankle deep in the sand, staring be- and led it to his own.
brute's gray back. till she took up hes pen and wrote | manded me to meet him in this | fore her with eyes that did not see.
Mona’s mouth was acrid, and her ne, farewell message. | place at sunrise.” | By and by, one of the camels tried
head sang. She saw a mad whirl| yt was a letter such as many] Her spirits rose at this informa- to bite the cameleer. He quirted it
of gray boar and khaki clothes and wives have penned, since wives be- tion. Sunrise! Already the saffron &Cross the nose, and as it recoiled
long brown boots in a gloud of fst | Ear The burden of it was the old in the east was tinged with | snarling, squatted in the shadow of
before the butchered dun. Then | cheap thrust, “Gone with a hand- She leaned her camel's side, its body and composed himself to
Bikha was afoot beside them, with gomer man than you. But her pen watching the dawn wax tranquilly wait.
poised blade. Three times he made | was dipped in vitrol that day. All | through rose to gold and flaming |
to thrust, but stayed his hand. Then her repressions found vent in it; her scarlet, till the first fierce ray stab- |
he lunged home and sprang back as hurt conceit, her disappointed sel- bed at her from the sun's rim, dozed the long day through. ‘ter him as the camels knelt. | afternoon guests. You need
the hilt was wrenched away. fishness, the hatred that his defeat| The sun was up. It had turned Mona crouched close to her camel, He motioned to the howdah, and package dates, % pound pecans
For a moment the fantastic wrest- | of her had borne. It was finality, the dawn coolness into mali t | Where she had been forced for shel- | trembling violently, she mounted. | oranges, 2 bananas, 1 small «
ling match went on, but the hog’s | limned in vindictive, |ter from the sun. Her lips were The curtain was snatched shut be- pineapple, & pound grapes, 1 sm
struggles weakened, stopped, and he her face like ivory, and her fore her, leaving her in inky dark. |can cherries, lettuce, a cup of wk
lay weltering in the darkened dust, | preparations. her adventure, for the sight of Rao, | eyes seemed to have receded into the When the camel rose and marched ped cream and a cup of mayonna
with Rao embracing him, one arm (ly her loveliest clothes. Her thoughts | his rare smile and the ardent sound | caverns of their sockets. Hour af- she tried to part the drapes for xia. Mix the diced dates, banar
about his neck, ome hand pping | ran on excitedly. Life, with all men |of his voice. The cameleer was ter grim hour, the same thoughts She could not. They were ; oranges and pineapple with gra
his snout and long legs wrapped at her feet. squatting by his camel's flank. through her brain in a tight. The heavy rfume from t*| and pecans. Fold whipped cre
about his quarters. | Rao was rich, far richer than| Presently the fellow to his mad, macabre dance: four cholces— | previous occupants filled her prison. into mayonnaise. Combine; se
When the spectators rushed up, | Dick. He never could return to|feet and pointed silently. Against and each led pitilessly to death, or —Hearst's International Cosmopol- ' on lettuce, surround with may
the twins were releasing Dick's leg | India after this. They would buy the blue above a dune crest nodded to abysmal shame. itan. |naise and top with cherries.