The Way That Won
At number 237 South Walnut, in
Millwood, the home of Mr. Ramsey
Martin, Dr. Harvey Wilmot made the
last of his evening round of calls, and
started toward his,office.
There was a harassed look upon his
face, usually so serenely handsome,
and in his heart there was that long
ing for a confidant which sometimes
takes possession of wifeless men. Ac
cordingly, as he neared the residence ,
of Hon. T. 13. Paine, a block nearer j
town, his steps gtew slower and he ;
stopped.
Upon such occasions he had found
the society of Honora Paine very
soothing. Her reposeful manner, her
well chosen words, her even voice,
were balm to his ruffled spirits, worn
out in sympathy for others' ailments,
irritated by the many vexations of a
physician's life.
He had never honestly told him
self that he intended to marry her, but
the thought was in his mind, still un
formed, perhaps, and as for Honora,
♦he matter was settled with her, and !
When a thing went so far as that, it
tery seldom changed.
She came forward to meet him this
•veiling in her slow, dignified way,
preserving the perfect sweep of her
frown, which in its lilac silk and
black velvet displayed her big blonde
beauty to perfection, showing as
much enthusiasm as she ever allowed
herself.
She wound up her warm welcome
by saying:
"We were afraid that you had for
saken us; your visits have been so
scarce of late."
Honora's cousin, Ruth Josiin, who
was politely included in the plural
pronoun, was seated reading near the
grate, which the chill evening of
early spring made comfortable. She
returned his salutation and went back
to her reading.
"You look tired," said Honora, an
exquisite note of concern in her
voice; "i fear you are working too
hard and trying to carry too many bur
dens at once."
Then, with tender interest, she be
gan to inquire after certain of his pa
tients.
"The most urgent need I have is in
the case of Mrs. Martin," said he;
"they live in the next block, and are
old acquaintances of mine. Mrs. Mar
tin is suffering from nervous prostra
tion, and the invalid and three chil
dren are entirely without care. Heing
strangers here, they have no neigh
bors to call upon, and I cannot hope
for very much success until help can
be procured."
Hefore Honora could frame a con
soling reply, to this confidence, Ruth,
who had been listening earnestly,
spoke to her:
"Honora, let us send them Jane.
We can do her work for a while.
Honora turned a voice and face of
gentle reproach on her cousin.
"My dear Ruth, how unneighborly
it would seem, even if Jane could
leave her duties, which you know is
impossible. We must not forget our
duty to strangers. I will go myself
to-morrow."
"Thank you, Miss Paine," said the
young man, gratefully; "you will be
showing the truest kindness ingoing.
And he mentally compared the gen
erosity of the two girls, much to
Ruth's disadvantage.
The next morning Dr. Wilmot en
tered the gate of the Martin resi
dence. in the front yard the five-year
old twin boys were holding a circus,
supplying the lack of wild beasts with
their own lungs
At the door he was let in by ten
year-old Mary, who wore a general
untidy, discouraged look. The dining
room was open, showing a dusty car
pet, scattered over with oases in the
shape of ashes, bits of coal and
crumbs.
When he entered the sick room,
there sat, by the bed, Honora Paine,
in an irreproachable street gown and
bonnet, carrying on a formal conver
sation.
Honora was sweetly sympathetic
during the call, and watched the doc
tor approvingly as he drew the cur
tains and tried to make Mrs. Martin
comfortable.
That evening he called again, hope
lessly, to be sure, lie noticed that the
porch and walks were tidily swept,
and the morning's litter absent from
the front yard.
In answer to his ring a trimly at
tired figure opened the door, in whom
he recognized Ruth Josiin.
A pinafore was drawn snugly over
street dress, her darlt-lashed blue
almost black with excitement
ex'Tcise, her bronze-brown hair
ed fluffily over her forehead. Itais
a warning hand, she said:
'I do not think you should go up
ust yet, Dr. Wilmot; I left Mrs. Mar
tin sleeping quietly only a short time
/ ago. Tea is ready, and Mr. Martin
wishes -to know if you will not come
into the dining room and share it."
And she opened the door, showing,
instead of the cheerless, untidy room
of the morning, a cozy plaoe, with
neatly set table glowing attractively
under the yellow-shaded lamp.
Mr. Martin, looking several years
younger than in the morning, was
seated at the head of the table; next
him, the twins, who with their clean
faces, collars and cravats, looked
quite angelic.
When Dr. Wilmot descended the
By Belle Field
(Copyright.)
stairs, having left his already much
improved patient, with her husband,
he met Ruth in the hall.
"Miss Josiin, I have finished my
rounds and am on my way down town.
Will you not accept my escort to your
door?"
"No, I thank you," said she, decided
ly. "I shall stay until the children
are asleep, Mrs. Martin settled for the
night, and arrangements made for
Mary to prepare breakfast. Hut 1
would like you to stop and tell Honora
where I am, and that 1 will not be at
home for an hour or so. Good-night."
And Ruth started upstairs with the
sleepy twins.
Harvey Wilmot had never ex
changed more than the merest com
monplaces with Ruth Josiin; perhaps
because she had always appeared in
different to him, and that she was
usually overshadowed by her more
beautiful cousin, but as he walked
away, he experienced a strange feel
ing in the cardiac region, and he
thought how sweet she looked presid
ing at the tabie.
Through the open window curtains
of Honora's home he saw that*young
lady, reading. Radiant in a gown of
light blue .ui<} white lace, iter golden
hair soft on neck and brow, and be
side her a huge blue bowl, rioting full
of pink roses, she looked like an ex
quisite piece in Dresden china.
"i suppose you have just come from
Mrs. Martin. How is she? I have
thought of her very often to-day.
Then He Began to Talk Earnestly.
Ruth said she intended calling there,
but she lias been out all afternoon,
and 1 suppose, changed her mind."
There was a hint of sternness in
Dr. Wilmot's voice:
"I am just from Mrs. Martin. She
is very much better. Miss Josiin has
been there all afternoon and desired
me to tell you not to expect her home
till later."
Honora shook her dead disapprov
ingly.
"That is just like Ruth. She re
fused togo with me this morning. Sha
will never learn to do things like
other people. I am glad your patient
is improved, and that you gave me
the opportunity to call upon her this
morning."
For a week Ruth held her self-im
posed post of duty, vastly to the Mar
tin family's comfort and Harvey Wil
mot's admiration.
Then, when a strong-handed, kindly
Dorcas came front the city, the girl
still kept up her cheering visits to the
invalid.
It was a warm June evening, long
after the young doctor arid Ruth had
ceased their "professional visits," that
the pair met at the Martin home. This
was one of several pleasant evenings
that they had spent with the family.
As they were leaving together, Mrs.
Martin said, laughingly:
"Harvey, I h&ve always thought that
Ruth should have been given half the
honor of my restoration to health."
"I shall try to persuade Miss Ruth
into a verbal acceptance of the half
of iity success, Mrs. Martin."
Superstitious people say that there
is witchery in the moon. Perhaps,
once out doors, its spell kept the
couple quiet, for nothing was said at
first.
Then suddenly the slender fingers
resting on Dr. Wilmot's coat sleeve
were covered closely with his right
hand, and then he began to talk earn
estly.
They walked slower and slower, un
til they were inside Ruth's gate, and
then, screened by a friendly syringa
bush, they stopped altogether and
their voices ceased.
Honora, front her hammock tinder
the ivy canopy, saw the two figures
| apparently merge into one, and ove>
J the shoulder of Ruth's white dress she
j could define a black-clad, manly arm.
Realizing for the first time that her
well-built plans had tumbled to earth,
she arose and swept majestically into
the house, indignation in the very rus
tle of her garments.
Hut the pair under the syringa bush
were so absorbed in each other that
j the indignation was forever lost oa
them.
CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 5, 1907.
BY NAME UNKNOWN
IMPORTANCE OF ANONYMOUS UT
TERANCES IN HISTORY.
Scriptures Full of Instances in Which
the Words of Nameless Speakers
Were Most Fateful—lncident
of the "Young Ruler."
In the course of reading one is often
struck by the important part played
by anonymous voices throughout his
tory. The Scriptures are full of in
stances in which the words of name
less speakers have become historic.
"Who made thee a prince and a judge
over us? intendest thou to kill me, as
thou killedst the Egyptian?"—words
few, and their speaker unknown; but
tliey drove Moses into the desert, an
exile for 40 years. "Saul hath slain
his thousands, and David his ten thou
sands," sang the Hebrew maidens in
their rejoicing over the death of Go
liath, and we know what fateful words
they proved to the hero they were
meant to honor. We remember the
breathless arrival of Job's servants in
sad fourfold succession, each with his
taie of woe no sooner delivered than
outdone by that of the next comer,
and how each ended with the piercing
refrain: "And I only am escaped alone
to tell thee." Job's wife, that eastern
Lady Macbeth, hisses out her diaboli
cal instigation: "Dost thou still retain
thine integrity? Curse God, and die."
Certain Chaldeans pillory themselves
and glorify three Jews for all time by
their sycophantic tale-telling: "These
men, oh, king, have not regarded thee;
they serve not thy gods, nor worship
the golden image which thou has set
up." And others perform the same
office for "that Daniel" which was"of
the children of the captivity of Ju
dali," to his great honor and their own
undoing. Returning with slow steps
and with awed and wondering looks
come the men set to catch Jesus in
Mis words, framing as the pass their
more than sufficient excuse: "Never
man spake like this man." The "young
ruler" runs with this eager inquiry to
the Master, and goes away sorrowful,
making the great refusal. The woman
of Samaria, with her keen questioning,
draws from Christ the glorious truth
that "God is a Spirit; anc} they that
worship Him must worship Him in
spirit and in truth." As speaker of an
all too memorable sentence, there is
the pert servant maid who with a
word cowed Peter and made him sin
the sin of his life.
His One Yarn.
Four men who at, one time or an
other had enjoyed the hospitality of
one Canadian camp were talking
around an open fire in a club the
other night about the taciturnity of
the average Canadian guide. The ex
perience meeting had been opened by
one man who had been telling of two
days he spent with a native woodman
in pursuit of a moose, and who in all
that time had only spoken once, and
then he dropped the undeniable fact
that their way through the forest was
a "damned bad trail."
"That's what I like about Jim Mc-
Donald," interjected one of the listen
ers. "You remember Jim?" The others
"allowed" they did right well. "Now,
he tells you the kind of stories I like
to hear when I am in the woods. The
last time I was up to the governor's
camp he told me a bully yarn about
being caught out on the lake one even
ing last winter without even a knife,
and he got the best of three—"
"Five —four —six," broke in the lis
teners. And they all grinned. It
seems Jim had told each one the tale,
embroidering on facts in the story
and increasing the number of wolves
that had pursued him with each re
cital.
"Well," remarked the man who had
started to tell the yarn, "I'm no na
ture student, and 1 don't care about
the mere detail of facts. When I'm
in the woods I like to hear my guide
talk, even if he is a harmless liar."
Truly Admirable.
An Illinois politician, who once de
livered what seemed to him an excel
lent and striking speech on the trust
question, was most anxious to ascer
tain its effect upon the Democratic
part of his audience, these for the
most part being Irish.
"Was the speech to your liking,
Pat?" he asked an old friend in the
audience.
"Sure, it were a grand speech!"
averred Pat, in a tone of such sincere
admiration that the politician felt
moved to investigate further.
"Was there any part of it more than
another that seemed to hold you?"
the speaker asked.
"Well, now that ye ask me, I'll tell
ye," responded the Celt. "What took
me most, sir, was yere perseverance
—the way ye wint over the same thing
agin and agin."—Harper's Weekly.
Non-Committs^,
"How old are you?" asked the mag
istrate of the woman who had been
mixed tip in a fight.
"Five years younger than her that
had me pinched," said the woman.
"Well, and what age is that?"
"Ask her tlrst."—St. Louis Republic.
Merely Realism.
"Advertisements 011 the scenery!"
exclaimed! the star. "That's carrying
commercialism entirely too far."
"It isn't commercialism," explained
the manager. "We want the scene to
look like a real meadow, don't we?"
Extremely Absent-Minded.
Professor—l always forget to carry
a handkerchief. I really must tie a
knot in mine. —Fliegeude Blaetter.
UP TREE TO ESCAPE TIGRESS.
Unexpected Meeting on a Jungle Path
way in Indfi..
I was patrolling the jungle paths
between two of my chowkies, accom
panied by my jemadar, and on ap
proaching an exceptionally thick patch
we were startled by hearing a tiger
roar almost at our feet, says a writer
in the Madras Mail. 1 coughed pretty
loudly to let him know that we were
near, but judging by the growls he
was disposed to dispute the right of
way.
As we were unarmed swift retreat
was the only way to escape the dan
ger. I soon found a tree, up which I
"shinned" till some 20 feet from the
ground, but on looking round for my
jemadar, I found he was making
frantic efforts to climb one, but slipped
to the bottom after each endeavor.
So I called him to my perch, and had
just hauled him up when a fine tigress
emerged from the jungle, followed by
two small cubs.
She passed under our tree and
sauntered into the thicket, but reap
peared a few minutes later, without
the cubs, and remained watching us
for some time, apparently considering
if it was worth while to claw us off
our perches. After some embarrass
ing moments productive of the bluest
of funks she disappeared, and my jem
adar, who had been dumb while the
interview lasted, found his voice and
gave tongue to the most agonizing yells
to the rest of our party, who were
close behind, to come to our assist
ance.
No one, however, appeared, and it
is well tht.-y did not, as the tigress
would probably have attacked them.
After remaining in the tree for an
hour or so we descended and saw no
more of our unwelcome visitor.
He Meant Mucilage.
In an office building of Philadelphia
there is installed a young Englishman
who is endeavoring to establish him
self as an architect, llis room adjoins
those of a prominent real estate deal
er, who from the first evinced a
friendly and neighborly interest in
the young Briton.
"Any time I can help you," suggest
ed the Philadelphian when the for
eigner first took up his quarters in
the building, "I shall be glad to do
so."
Not long ago the real estate man
engaged a new stenographer, a pretty
girl, but with rather an exaggerated
pompadour and an extremely haughty
manner.
One morning, the Englishman, hav
ing occasion to avail himself of the
kind offer referred to, entered the of
fice somewhat precipitately, when he
was brought to a sudden halt by the
frigid air of the new stenographer.
"I beg your pardon," hesitatingly
began the architect, taken back by the
sight of a new face, "but could you
spare me a little of your gum?"
"Sir —" indignantly began the
stenographer, "you don't know—"
"Oh, how awkward of me!" ex
claimed the Briton, more and more
embarrassed. "I remember now that
in America you say mucilage."—Ex
change.
Eight Flights Up.
When the first fire company, in re
sponse to an alarm, reached the long
row of tenements, the fire captain at
once jumped from his engine and en
deavored to locate the fire. When he
had ineffectually hunted through three
or four structures for it, he described
an old woman sticking her head out of
a window of the topmost floor of an
eight-story tenement, a little farther
up the street.
"Any fire up there?" he yelled,
when he had reached the pavement
beneath this building.
In answer the old woman motioned
for him to come up.
Accordingly, the captain, with his
men lugging their heavy hose behind
them, laboriously ascended the eight
flights and burst into the room where
the old woman was.
"Where's the fire?" demanded the
captain, when no fire nor smoke be
came visible.
"Oh, there ain't none here," replied
the old woman, flashing an ear-trum
pet. "I asked y' up 'cause I couldn't
hear a word you said 'way down
there!" —Bohemian.
As She Is Spoke.
They were tourists from a more or
less aristocratic London suburb, and
they were "doing Paris" with that
celerity and intelligence for which
the British tourist is famous. Of
course, they went to the Louvre, and
by and by James caught sight of a
somewhat striking picture, and im
mediately proceeded to express his
admiration in the accepted manner:
"What ho! What price this —eh?"
he said to his companion in adven
ture.
An attendant standing by had evi
dently studied English to some pur
pose, and, with the courtesy of his
race, stepped forward.
"Pardon, m'sieu," he said. "Zat pic
ture—eet is not by Watteau, and eet
is not for sale."
Romance of a Poor Young Man.
"Ferdinand speaks of love in a cot
tage, but that's foolish talk."
"Especially to a girl of your social
standing."
"Yes; one could not possibly live at
Newport all the year 'round."
One Want Not Filled.
"This is a wonderful age with
wireless telegraphy, smokeless pow
der and the like."
"Yes," replied Mrs. Fidgety, "but I
notice the men are not exerting them
selves to invent a smokeless cigar "
FOR MAIDEN OF 16
STYLES THAT ARE SUITABLE AND
BECOMING.
Mothers Frequently Find It Hard to
Dress Girls of That Age Becom
ingly, and Suggestions May
Be Welcome.
The title of "sweet 16" seems sadly
misplaced. Pretty 21 would be much
truer, for in reality there is no age
more trying than 16.
Girls who have reached that num
ber of years are either too young to
do one thing, or too old to do the
other. It may be a sweet age to study,
Neat and Practical Utility Suit.
but to actually live through every
girl looks back to it as a nightmare.
And mothers are often sorely per
plexed with the question of what style
is proper for a miss of that age. Per
haps these few suggestions will be
welcome to such mothers. At least
we hope so.
Oftentimes the miss of 16 is "lanky,"
and a dress that has a few tiny ruf
fles 011 it will set the skirt out and
BALLAST FOR BABY'S CHAIR.
Simple Device That Will Prevent Its
Possible Capsizing.
After watching our strong baby boy
sway his high chair almost to the
point of capsizing.
I made a bag of
cloth or canton tk\ 1 | in.
flannel matching I I t|K
in color the wood- vAI 1
work of the chair, /
and finished it at
the top with the If // \l
usual casing and
strong ribbon draw- II y\
strings. In this bag II U
was put a flatiron.
and thus heavily "p/vV \\
weighted, the bag U LA ✓ l\
was tied to the 1 f" 0
rounds of the ®
chair. Not even the most athletic ol"
boy babies could overturn a chair so
anchored and this knowledge may
come as a blessed relief to some anx
ious mother who is called suddenly out
of the room, when baby is in his liigh
chair. —Good Housekeeping.
COSTLY VEILS A NECESSITY.
Have Become Indispensable Part of
Smart Woman's Apparel.
More and more are veils becoming
a feature of the smartly clad wom
an's hat, but they are not a joy for
ever; in fact, they are about as ex
pensive as any detail of the feminine
toilet, inasmuch as a cheap bit of
gauze or net will not in the least an
swer the purpose. The veil must al
ways be absolutely fresh, and usually
matches the color scheme of the hat,
unless white trimmings are used on it,
in which case it is better to have it of
that color, as it is more becoming to
the complexion.
Flaring brimmed hats, set well back
from the brow, are the fancy of the
tailor-made maid, even for shopping.
The shapes are not extravagantly
large, and are usually in dark felt or
beaver. But to be effective and also
becoming, the brims should be faced
or bound with dark velvet or satin
sometimes edged with a white silk
cml. A highly picturesque effect is
gained with coquo feathers instead of
the more perishable and costly ostrich
tips, which are out of place with run
about costumes.
Black Goods Dressing.
Boil ten cents' worth of logwood
bark in two quarts of water. When
cool add two quarts of stale beer.
Add water sufficient to cover goods;
lifl and stir goods occasionally until
of an even black. Then rinse, partly
dry, and dress.
relieve her of that tall and thin ap
pearance, while touches of velvet
about the bodice will always make any
dress becoming to the girl who is bur
dened with a sallow skin.
Styles for misses should be chosen
as those for their mothers, and that
is according to their respective fig
ures. The girl who is slim should se
lect a skirt with some fullness about
the hips.
A word as to colors for house dress
es. Avoid bright reds —they are of
the long ago, and to-day we see in
their stead soft browns, shading from
mustard and topaz down to the rich
seal brown; innumerable blues that
are rich in tone with silvery sheens,
dull greens that can be livened up
with velvet and lace, but no bright,
flaring shades to dazzle the eye. In
deed, all colors have almost a faded
appearance, so soft are they in tone.
A neat and practical utility suit
is pictured, and made of dark bir
serge; nothing could be more usef
and give better results for a li
expenditure of money. A feature ai
this particular model is that it 1
tons close to the throat and th 3
eliminates the need of furs except i
very severe weather.
II is an exceptionally stylish mod*!
for school wear, and could be de
veloped in such goods as cheviot,
tweeds or any novelty suiting. Cor
duroy makes a charming dress of this
model, and for the girl who is out of
doors much the goods is highly com
mended. It will stand the test of
many storms and any amount of hard
usage to which every school girl sub
mits her clothes.
A suggestion which might help out;
would be to make it up of copper
brown homespun material. Have
straps made of brown taffeta of a
darker shade, while the collar might
be evolved from velvet of a shade
matching the taffeta bands. Silk braid
might also he used instead of taffeta
for strappings, with velvet buttons for
combination.
Many young girls are made abso
lutely unhappy because their parents
never seem to think they have ideas
of their own. It really matters very
little to the average mother whether
her young daughter wears a brown
or a green dress, while to the average
girl it is a vital question.
A girl was U4 years old before she
was allowed to select a dress of the
color and style she wanted, and that
dress was to her an event. Give th<?
young folks a chance to say at least
what color they want, and humor
their little fancies as much as you
can within reason, for things that tc
us seem mere trifles are to them
mountains of disappointment.
BELTS OF FLOWERED BROCADE
Particularly Pretty Are Some of the
Designs Shown.
There are new belts made of striped
leather that are decidedly popular
among young girls. In fact, these belts
would be becoming to slight figures
only they are striped longitudinally
and so have a tendency to make any
but a slender waist appear large. They
come in white and colored stripes, the
1 pale tints, pink, blue, yellow and
lavender being used with the white.
They are worn with shirtwaists in
colors or white and are nice when
used with sprigged or embroidered
waistr, in which the color of the belt
appears.
There are also new belts of flowered
ribbon, ratliar wide and made up with
pearl buckles. The newest flowered
ribbon has i» lattice work pattern
over which the flowers clamber. Then
there are wreaths of flowers
framing the circular arbor. To match
these belts tt«re are knots of the same
<-ibbon togo under the turnover col
lars which are now fashionable. These
knots are made like a small jabot,
with one knot at the top, one further
down and two short ends, but alto
gether they are quite short, nothing
like as long as the jabots meant for
older women. They are particularly
pretty to wear with fine linen waists
having the soft embroidered collars.
EMBROIDERY SQUARE.
A square such as this will look well
in the corner of a linen tablecloth that
has a border of drawn threads; the
design should be traced upon the
linen, then the lines should be run out.
and afterwards worked over in button
hole-stitch. Tack on a stout piece of
paper, cut the superfluous material
away with a pair of sharp scissors,
being careful not to cut the stitch s,
then work tho twisted bars t J.j
thread as in point lace.
13