st forever. be By DAVID ANDERSON Auther of “The Blue Moon" . Copyright by The Bebbe-Merrill Ce. college that makes preachers. 1 bet y'u he can cipher plum’ through any ‘rethmetic you ean hand ‘lm, an’ they say he's posted on purt nigh ever'thing that's goin’ on, 'r ever went on” gon’ t' frit soon I ain't, fm, nuther, not I never did git it.” Tr “SOME LOOKER” BYNOPSIS. On the banks of the Wabash stand Texie Colin and Jack Warhope, young and very much in love. Texie is the only daughter of old Pap Simon, rich man and money-lender. Jack is the orphan bound boy of Pap Simon who had foreclosed a morigage on the Warhope estate, At first Texle and Jack talk sadly of Ken Colin, the girl's missing brother. Then Jack says that in ten days his servitude will be over, that he will ride out inte the big world to seek his fortune, Hoth know what that will mean to them. Texle and Jack talk of the red lock of "Red Colin in- herited by Ken And Jack says he's coming back as soon as he finds gold in California. Then arrives the new preacher, Hev Caleb Hopkins. Pap Simon intro- duces the villagers to the new preacher, whe was a college mate of Ken. At supper at the Colin home the preacher tells how the boy killed a gambler and disap- peared. His =father attributes Ken's fall from grace to his red lock of hair. Then Pap Simon has a sort of stroke. brought on by reading a letter from Ken, “somewhere In New York,” who curses his father on his death bed. A postscript by another hand says he is dead, outen some other pore devil time, more'n ikely." The blacksmith b* slapped his laughed. the fisherman's frisky twinkled and he swore merrily. pression In his little rat eyes have meant any number of things, “Blamedest feller—that Jim Rum- midge,” Uncle Nick went on. werdn't nothin’ but what him an’ that { brother Si o' his'n wus up to when they wus youngsters. Ricollect | Sund'y Jim tuck It into 'is head t' yoke up a couple o' calves ol' man Rum- | midge was calc’latin’ t' save f'r oxen, i an’ 'e coaxed Si t' play off sick with | 'Im so's they wouldn't haf t' t | church. Well, the ol' folks werdn't { more'n out o' sight when up right after 'lm, an’ go Jim, an’ Si breaks f'r the barn-lot t* yoke up them ! yearlin's, i “Sh-h-h warned | comes the parson.” | Almost with the words, the dapper, | nervously alert young, preacher en- { tered the door. " Zeke, | been more than six or twenty. The trade-mark of his call seven and | ing was hung all aver him. His shiny CHAPTER IV sD — The Room Was Deadly Still. woods, Snugged away In a pocket of the valley of the Wabash, woke up but once—when s rumer trickled In from somewhere that = railroad was headed that way. Bat the rumor subsided, Buckeye went hack to sieep, and the big fur. got that it was there, Zeke Polick’'s general store was the largest in the place. It newer world Zeke sold every- old the spigot A buy it as he from a drink to a fugful, but ners” had to be identified to quantities less than a quart to mellow Bourbon flatwoods it, “squirrel” right from man could wanted get it n ~ in tification quite as exacting a different that harrow Kimorn Simon which a man's face went a» woods as note In the mellow following the bank remarkable labla of which get hevond the red Uncle Nick Wiffles, a tall. an a quitely the requ rid us ig sort, money irom is another as Colin way th ying ; f $ 3 8 f: the Flat his avening old r'e coll over the fatto had been roofed cottage ray old eve pip with twinkling % meditative of the store. chair It grouped around him light its charred chimney. WAS a Variegated company that is wick and smoke-stained ‘here was Zeke proprietor o f old rag of a man: Al ‘ounters a one-eyed Nsherman a complexion I rind ; arms, Folick. f t1 master and little man, like a smoke the and blacksmitl hands RO Aryamg Village Loafers Were There—Aimless, Doless Drifters Who Mad Nowhere Else to Go, bold a piece of from hot enough to sizzle water. Village loafers were there—aimless, doless drifters who had nowhere else to go. Besides these, Loge Belden, sald to be a Kentucky mountain man, tall, lanky und just comfortably in his prime, with a reddish-sandy mustache and goatee, leaned on the end of the counter nearest the door. Little was known of him except that he and his sister had lately moted into an old cabin on one of Simon Colin's farms up at the head of Eagle hollow, and that he had taken the job of clearing the tlwber from an upland fleld and making it ready for the plow. Some said he had been a pear! fisher, others that he was “wanted” down at Vine cennes. The Flatwoods held him’ at arm's length-—and waited” “Ricollect Jim Rummidge, don't y'u, Zeke? Uncle Nick remarked, y “Jim Rummidge, reckon | do that” piped Zeke's thin volee, ns he leaned boots, elaborate frock coat, neck stock, high hat and enormous spectacles fairly shrieked s¢hoolmaster, { And yet one could not help wonder- ing why fate had set such a man as the Rev. Caleb Hopkins te the bush | ness of keeping school. Disseciated from all suggestion of theology and chalk, his figure was about all that could be desired im a man-—height a trifie above medium ; well set up; lithe and graceful-—and his face-aothing short of handsome, only for a certain alr of peering Severity. To look at him as he entered the door--six feet lithe young man- hood smothering under its ascetic, not of investure that to say somber, one wauld have anything guessed there was wrong that ight him now was to as hb prec sely Fiat walked what the woods ° past the staring Loge Belden he slouched Agninst stopped and stood ang ously B enting the at him iden seemed on when the point o the Reverend away, and f re look, turned the group around on to th at the rear of the room i u say whispered Nick waiting | Caleb quickly with { n nod passed Uncle 1 Nick and went & post office | window eo “What ig long.” ito Uncle fond %t his nose. furn y' & we ask ‘Im the young m Zeke Polick to ad acies on his ¥ ¥ i up the smoky for dirty amp laboriously sort over the of meager bunel fetters ge Ge guardedly “Wateh da’st “Mr { inter, stepping | preacher as loor, “a passel and posteards dn'sn’t,” Uncle Nick answered me, an’ yu'li see I ain't a-feared of no prrson, Hopkins.” © in he ie ealied a froat of the 3 toward n nent passed of y @éround us fellers is : ry! 1 1 Me in 1 I he mornin’ like t° go leo “SVhe “Ooh. re are g promised tomorrow even'ng at tl { which, | am inf in celebration of the last day of Do you exp to return that?” SAw, we'll be back by noon, cuasy.” "Let me see” pondered the preach- er, not willing to compromise his dig: nity by appearing overanxious. “This is Wednesday ; tomorrow Is Thursday 1 believe 1 may safely allow myself this recreation. 1 shall be most happy to avall myself of your kind invita. tion.” 1 have to be at the soci ie schoolhouse, wined, is always held school, | time for ect in { The fisherman stood fingering his | hat and staring at the door long after the minister had passed out, the twinkle gone from his puckered one eye a puzzled look on his smoked ba- con rind of a face, “Well, I'll be derned! Wouldn't that singe y'ur whiskers! I dunno yit whuther he sald 'e'd come 'r not.” Uncle Nick threw Is head back and fairly roared, while the postmaster rumpled up his dry countenance into a halt begrudged grin, “Course he said 'e'd come. Whar wus you brung up at, anyhow? Didn't ¥'u hyur lm say he'd 'vall himse'f of yur kind Invytation? Course he's calc'lating t' come. Zeke, we'll haf t' git Al a new spellin’ book an’ start "im 4" school next fall” “Well,” muttered the fislgrinan, as his face cleared and the twinkle came back to his waggish one eye, “all 1 got t' say is: he can ase up more diction. ary «'sayin’ yes than any man | ever hear'd. But ain't 'e some looker barrin’ that killin’ rig he's hobbled up In?" : “Most too good-lookin',” piped Zeke, “Aw, dunno, Zeke,” Uncle Nick ob- served, “'tain’t gon’ t' hurt lin none. Only drawback 1 ¢an see is: it's u pity t' waste all them good looks en a preacher.” “Anyhow,” put In Al his rakish eye dancing at Uncle Nick's remark, “if he wus ugly enough t' tree the devil up a thorn bush, 1 don't ‘low it'd he'p ‘Is preachin’ none. An’ | rockon he shore nyist be some preacher, ‘vr he forward across the counter. “Aln't wouldn't he where 'e is<teachin’ In * “" “That ain't neither hyur n'r there, argued Zeke. “That ain't no more'n his duty, an’ what the taxpayers back whar 'e come from ‘rr’ payin’ 'im fr. “Duty 'r no duty.” rejoined the fish- erman, “it's a dern good sign.” “All the same,” snapped the post master, “If I had a gal—which | dint got, n'a never had—I wouldn't gal is, an' she shouldn't be, nuther.” “Aw, well, Zeke” drawled Uncle Nick, “If she tuck after dnddy in looks, I reckon they wouldn't he no great danger.” The raucous langh that from the crowd jarred the postmaster, “I don't care what y'u say.” shrilled in his high, thin volce, “Texle Colin's got good looks enough, if that's what y'u want. I dunno whut Sime Colin's a-thinkin' about. [It ain't like "Im, t' take in a teetotal furriner that a-way, preacher 'r no preacher—don't keer If 'e was a classmate o Ken's, That ain't no recommend, nohow bein’ a classmate 0° Ken's—f'r hie wus orn'ry as the devil makes ‘em. They're boun’ to be throwed t'gether | more'n they ough’ t' be” “Ain't much more'n a kid, nuther,” the blacksmith remarked, apparently thoughtfully impressed, as he searched his pockets for a match. "Som’'er's around seventeen 'r eight. een" The postmaster glanced across at | Uncle Nick, as if for confirmation of his statement. The old man took the ‘or followed he as | They's Thousan's and Tens o Thou sans oo Gals That Cayn't Be Drawed On, No Matter What Feller Comes Along. rom belween stein ng “1 low s'ur not fur off.” } be answered meditatively to the k n masters log ¢ Jack's twenty past, an’ I've hear thrge years would 'r “An' s'posfn’ she Is * the younger # ind seve Liteon el ht, postmaster went ant got none -an’ the be drawed nes along” “Hol’ on thar, Zeke, hol" too much ain't on no gal the ir k had been leaning bha« barrel, His bang. and his volee metal “You're goin’ loetlo fur. They's thousan's an’ tens o thousan™s o' gals that cayn't be drawed chair of rang ig like gtru " too on, no matter what feller comes along her's a heap more nice gals than Ther’ never wus a bad gal but what ther’ wus a bad man first. An’ it's over—she's done. All en durin’ the years t' come her heart has t’ be drug in the dust. while the man- no, I won't call "im man, an’ I cayn't call "hin beast, fr the beasts 'v clean compared-—carries ‘Is head as high as bifore. 1 tell y'u, people hain't never The man d'serves t' be judged accordin' t the same way the gal is——only more 80.” A hush fell over the group. The blacksmith sat patting his foot softly on the floor. Presently his calloused hand came dowd upon his knee with a sounding slap, while his eyes, duli at thost times from long looking into the forge fire, lighted with the fervor of his feelings. “Good f'r you, Uncle Nick! 1 agree with y'u complete. That's my kind ¢ preachin’—right t' the p'int” “My sentiments to a hair” chimed in the fisherman, “I alw'ys takes the girl's part an’ be d-—-4 ¢ the man. That's how I lost this eye. It wus when—-but no matter, I hain't never | b'grodged t=" i The fisherman's lone eye settled Into | a vacant stare at a crack in the floor: the hard lines of his face deepened. Could the others have glimpsed hack of that seamed and weather-benten maak, they might have read there the deep graven memory of a day that was dead—a dream and an awakening, a romance and a tragedy--that had driven him, as the storm drives the deiftwood, with what the world ealls a crime slated against him. to bury his life here with his dog and fishing gear, alone In his bachelor cabin om the river shore. men. “1 "low y'u must 'a’ been mis took about that-—arm” Ts SL A ——— Tor By OWEN sb) RIBBON AND LACE CAPS At Christmas time breakfast Here Ribbons and cheerful start, latest modes new sear a two in the Inces will, as usual, dear faces during the coming year colored net, narrow satin ribbon, edging and tiny ribbon flowers. point-de-esprit, with flowers at front and ribbon ties, accomplish the | other pretty headpiece Ts B= Wide ao. sealing desired Xx B® =x THINGS MADE OF RIBBON Ribbons are tie most adaptable of | all materials for making Christmas gifts. A little container for a powder | puff, and a pair of bedroom slippers appear in the illustration, both made of goy ribbons, The container is mere | ly an envelope of satin ribbon, deco rated with sealing wax flowers, and it fastens with a snap fastener. Satin-covered mules are gay with ribbon frills and flowers They are held about the ankles with gx XK =X MAKE NICE PRESENT A soft, narrow comforter and pil ¥ know you wil 18, a thelr unusual AERLIN, Cent MARCH vy d cad 2 ean SHER) F ) UALIT the in vhile a new ap En £ aug cursory ie might lead pn¥ that lust season's nl. wal, po oufluged by slight changed iffowa Sew model, this is simply a deco fie Vv engh fy styles ¥ New York Tribune, There Is a sib videning of the line from the kneds ind It like the proverbial {neh In 4 jan s when one attempts He it to last yeur's clothes, waistline tlient, and. in stature PEOOI The | new { too, has moved to a M ince Ww your business ke it om t v pu deposit with ¢ no chelee in ks have their » custodians off k| wel C ore st ma know, Hall. Pa. ORD & CO. Ea EL makes nn siriking difference. The line in the vicin- his season the of iy aistline spring was somewhere of the hips, while t 5 occuples a much low really { er posi tion inn around b gether becomes or a legs is absent alto Another type of sult thet is popular Hmong new is the quarter dress three-quarter length returns to favor long a time that the flappers will not remember them at all | In any the fushions and coat three length coat after so usmasure of popularity. to the new {| freshing flaring lines and Is a re change from the long coat and the eternal short jacket of other BeaRONS, | cut flaring and are trimmed with fur— | as is almost every garment in Paris | These suits are often embroidered in | the fashionable The Chi nese in snd Persian motifs the eombina Aress Emphasizing Extreme oped Biack Cross Fox, Godet, Deve Velvet, Bands of mn generally number well, with out a nn of ruffle or godet, Coats frocks have changed i much and the spring have at marks | age Coats } Cont we wore last appearance anner their walarll waistiine, a different n telltale mw ave no of cases, and the coats more. The flares are everywhere Be Given Consideration Lace on shades Ig not usaally desira- ble. There are very few houses Indeed | which, from the exterior view, are not positively marred by the use'of lace on shades, able. This is particularly true of lace This chic little hat is of tote | velvet ribbon with a fantasy of blue wooden beads. Quaint Party Frocks Chic for Little Girls Quaint charm thé camvas is the keynote of party | frocks designed for the very small per- son and In the varied modes one finds that every age and every type of child { hood has been studied and frocks cre. | ated that, while adorably simple, never | theless emphasize the Individuality of i each tiny wearer. There are the straight, slim frocks for child just outgrowing the chubbi ness of babyhood and frilly little gowns to adorn the plump little person three years and between these twe a wide range adapted to all ages and all types of Never have youthful clothes been more delightful, from the mest praeti cal of jersey play frocks with cellars and cuffs of plaid or Roman striped to brief little affairs of taffeta or crepe de chine which appesr on the on day party rikhon those omer tous occasion of a birth aii Ny Paste! colored taffeta and crepe are used for these little of the ng frocks, with mar \ foi anterial trim Use Warm Water and Ammonia for Wind WE are Le» ows noe i Cle aned the steaming nre sarcessful is better ventilation, gia is wing jntter © Pilate sheet giass Heavy the the glass and cot wir i¥ m © {aw 2rd heaviet GOWR troublesome, 1 of hetter no 1 } ut f what plate glass the | i Again in Style. Mother of thihg again It is npgt most frequently todas the form of spangies, umes are decorsted. iful bracelets also wear! is a lovely, old-fash into t y foned coming back in which In with Ost that may be the window, Curtains will completely spoil bern window longer than the window If this i= allowed all sense of Is Immediately lost The dragrn completely across n if they much with the other fittings They should not be spots, lesser degree, of lace insertion : in a life's Journey we see a house that | n—— - and old lace™ Here lace on shades | might be acceptable, i Holland striped cloth Is one of the | i newest introductions among materials | used for shades. They are very pleas. | Ing in appearance and are also pre- | pared in such a manner as to withstand | the effects of weathering. They are. | therefore, safe fo use at windows that are left open with the shade pulled | down. Except in white houses, white ghades are usually an eyesore from the | outside, for Dressing Table The foundation for a dressing table This spoon is of a rectangular A the room warrants it. Another general The glue Ix applied double character. They are relatively | bright during the day; at night they should be in accord with the feeling . Front Door Fasteners. Do not have an ordinary fastener from, brass and nlekeel the use of double curtain rods They aro ool thn ane AOS to te room DAVIS BOAL. EB THEODOI the be found will ty this fssue Boalsburs, the of vertisoment coducted hy m WANTED. —Men 01 women to tak titution ine this in births in twelve the
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