PA SI HBAS WNU Service PART DOG, PART WOLF This stirring story of the Cana- dian wilderness is not so much a sequel as it Is a successor to James Oliver Curwood's dog clas- sic, "Kazan." And it stands on its own merits. It is a dog story, but it has all human elements that make it good reading-—love, adventure and fighting. There Ix the lovely French-Indian girl Nepeese, Plerrot, the trapper, the sinister Bush McTaggart; Carvel the adventures And in their lives Baree plays a thrilling part—a major role. Part dog part wolf, Baree is dog it comes to when he ance on his ¢ intelligence in his courage In the begir any other serving his and wolf reaks as Places and through hi 1 factor hia loyalty turer, Carvel who brin Nepeese, Chapter | was born, th Cavern had oO, mother, babyh mate, caine eyes gleaming greenish fire in th Kazan's eyes first impression away from his moti him He could uld hear the falle brought vision he co under seen until they frightened h him, mense curiosity hem them, and his fea He straight at when disappear %1 his head back at with would Kazan t 16 woul the darkness denness that Ba laser lash suet ree wou shrink ¢ to his wavs trembled and sort of itrange came in ; beginning Its wonderful would never go beyond certal It svould tell him, in time, i wolf he would never know of that Wolf and but it Hmitations that heautif mother blind. but terrible battle between Gray the lynx in had been destroyed Nature could tell which his mother's sight him nothing of Kazan's merciless geance, of the wonderful years of matehood, of their loyalty, strange adventures in could dian wilderness—it only a son of Kazan And when were nearer, a came that wonderful day | f fire that then the greenish Kazan's ittie balls o came nearer and very Wolf had alone eyes and at a time, cautiously, Heretofore Gray warned him back. To be wns | the first law of her wild breed during mothering-time. A low snarl from her | throat, and Kazan had always stopped tut on this day the snarl did not come, In Gray Wolf's throat it died away in a low, whimpering sound. A note of loneliness, of gladness, of a great | yearning. “It is all right now™ she | was saying to Kazan; and Kazan pausing for a moment! to make sure replied with an answering note deep In his throat Still slowly, as if not quite sure of what he would find, Kazan came to them, and Baree snuggled closer to his mother, He heard Knzan as he dropped down heavily on his belly close to Gray Wolf. He was unafrald and mightily curious. And Kazan, too, was curious. He sniffed. In the gloom his ears were alert. After a little Baree began to move. An inch at a time he dragged himself away from Gray Wolf's side. Every muscle in her lithe body tensed, Again her wolf blood was warning her. There was danger for Baree, Her lips drew back, baring her fangs. Her throat trembled, but the note in it never came. Out of the darkness two yards away came a soft, puppyish whine, and the caressing sound of Kazan's tongue, Baree had felt the thrill of his first great adventure. He had discovered his father, This all happened in the third week of Baree's life. He was just eighteen days old when Gray Wolf allowed Kazan to make the acquaintance of his son. If it had not been for Gray Wolf's blindness and the memory of that day on the Sun rock when the iynx had destroyed her eyes, she would have given birth to Baree In the open and his legs would have been quite strong. He would have known the sun and the moon and the stars; he would have, realized what the thunder meant, and would have seen the the sky. But been nothing cavern lightning as it was, for him to under the flashing in there had do in that windfall but bones that were about Many times he strewn had been and go, and nearly always it had been like a distant echo. le never felt a very follow until this day big, cool tongue caressed his face Kazan's In those wonderful seconds nature was nt His instinct was not quite born And went leaving them when work until then when Kazan darkness, fo for his had alone in for him he had ) whimpered come ust as cried now and tl him in vesponse I'he sun was stra Everywhere He Looked He Could See Strange Things. i id not frighten him yet to learn the meaning of wag to fill So quite ollow i ie venture, and he plunged It took him a lon me to make yards eously, the twenty Then he ¢ » to a log worn smooth by the feet of Gray Kazan, to send for his farther and went, there change in this world of his, known nothing but now this blackness seemed itself up into strange and. stopping ng every whimpering made along it slowly a out nN mothe PF. he farther grew eall biz way Asx curious He had And breaking shapes and he blackness streak above him-—-a gleam of and it startled him he flattened himself down upon the log and did not move for half a minute. Then he went on. An ermine squeaked squirrels feet, and a curlous not at all had ever of a whut-whut-whut that was like any sound his mother made. He was off the trail it was leading him upward higher and higher into the tangle of the windfall, and was growing narrower every fool he progressed. He whined. little nose sought vainly for the warm scent of his mother. The end came FERIERTERT ee TT Pr. Samuel Johnson used a bludg- eon rather than a rapier in his cepar- tee, a8 some anecdotes nbout him by Charles Hopkins Clark In the North American Review ahow, On onhe oc easion, on a Sanday, a pompous ac qualntance, whom he did not like, came up to him with, “Doctor John- son, we huve had an excellent sermon today.” *“Thut muy be so,” sald the doctor, “but It Is Impossible that you After a heuted argument, which, by the way, wus the kind he sald he en. joyed, he finlched Lis opponent with, “If I have sald anything you under stand, [ beg the pardon of the rest of the company.” Mr. Cholmondely stopped the cur ringe In which Johnson wus riding and attempted to spesk to him, but got ne attention. Someone sald, “Here Ia Mr. Cholmondely.,” "What If it 187" sala Johnson, and went on readlug a book, suddeniy when he lost his balance and fell. He let out a piercing ery of ter ror as he felt himself slipping, and then plunged downward. He must have been high up In the windfall, for to Baree it was a tremendous fall. is little body thumped from log to log ag he shot this way and that, and when at last he stopped, there searcely a breath left in him, jut he stood up quickly on his four trembling legs—and blinked, was A new terror held Baree rooted there In an instant the chinnged It was a world had of sunlight looked he could But it was the sun that most, It and it He wouid have whole flood vhere he see things frightened him impression of fire, made CVEeR Sn f into oom of the fall, the f wind I endly gi ITH f 11 4 3: this moment G the end HOR Kazan rzled aree joyously, ke fashion wagged bh of the dog was to 3 Half wolf, he aren no human f Fhe iynx ha curibou homes +} } » ack be were as thick a he And paison-ba i SOn-dal where the dendfallis and f Tusoo had Kept ie wale th down, there wins ne MREr a for these 1 eK ur ’ i Ww once ilderness first won up over the earth with a n the and more beaut wolf ng restless He the it softer x &! yo Was strong head sounds Kaz in, the night ne of ng ng Baree the windfall, times, Halt a d¢ dered about zen wan- near soft whir over his head, and or gray floating swiftly through the air the big twice he saw They were been @ rabbit instead of a and stars would have been his last; not cautions. Gray Wolf did not watch hit closely. Instinet told her that In these forests there was no great dan In his veins ran the blood of He was a hunter of all other wild ereatures, but no other creature, either winged or fanged, hunted him man. What an appealing littie wild creature is this Baree—part dog, part wolf! {TO BE (ONTINUED) RI PERN OAR ARIA) Someone attempted to Introdace a friend: “Here Is my friend, Mr, Vesey, Doctor Johnson.” “1 see him” salo the doctor and turned away, Sir Lynch Cotton asked Doctor fohusou what he thought of a uelgh: boring peer, "A dull, commonplace sort of nnn,” he answered, “just ike you and your brother.” Doctor Bernard, president of Jesus college, Oxford, unintentionally of feuded hin with a passing Jest, and, by way of apology sald at once, “I meant nothing, Doctor Johuson.” Te which polite remark Johnson an swered, “If you wean nothing, say nothing, sir!” One of the Mysteries Why do so many strangers think the real sights of a ¢ity those that regular residents care least to see? -Detrolt News. > a NELLIE REVELL S ays. HEN I wrote this I could hear the sound of a chisel and a hammer and an air riveting machine wielded by the workmen constructing an apartment building nearby. “Doesn't that noise nearly kill you? asked a visitor as the sounds pierced the air. I admitted it was not as sooth Ing as some things I could mention, but added that it did not irritate me nearly as much as the noise made by the wrecking crew while tearing down the bullding that formerly occupied the same site, According to all traditions and leg ends the nolse should upset me. 1] presume it would If it were not for the fact that I know they are bulld ing, and that the hammer, which plays a quick, light march, and the chisel which makes a little plzzicato, are constructing, not destroying. Then )} recalled how thrilled I always been at the sight of n Labor day pa rade, where every muscular toil represented construction was a master workman Was schools, would son of Whether or an en bridges or civil churches, something that promote lization In contrast I recalled another pa rade which I had been invited to wit ness There and as the youngest from a grandstand seat, the plause of the throng of our the gayly he finest spe our land all every mother's be a killer the came back to cheers up me strongest country swept down decorated 1 ¥ of man physically per of then of his noise hood In fect, and son fellow And of the which told me of rebullding man somehow derricks did not crash of 801 As nerve racking as tarted re sine of the hammer and saw seeme( ‘ annoy me. A build ited. The worl rather than new ' constr ing was} g ahead The noise has sort of harmony “clink, clink” into soe Was moving There is a musical of the regular the workmen, of to homes in trowels, shaping I am not but steel In me which form able to qui®™; deft st skillful hands bullding fies rokes fir ROOINS inspire live, home ties be be Perhaps its forged bor will 1 and love will (1 wall wil cathe But shelter the architect of a great dral anyhow they are or some other great m bullding an And 1 tried to picture roar of bursting of shrapnel injured I like te f indus shells aud the and had work Cone "oo r" $ ’ * 4 11 ine ng on thi ev ging n : 1s “ta thin ipta of them as cag RC to kill. 1 that the which had been the destructive weapons had been ity and could now be try + hand use of to think taught like relieved turned toward the constructive of wielding hammers and saws, The man who bullds is the only man who pays his fare in life's highway man who can roll together two little balls of dirt making a stronger that it will hold the man who can upon another, so another's weight: structure | builder. Everyone can be 8 builder. be builders, builder or knows whether he a waster. Every I= an asset use to civilization, If a man’s build Ing is measured by his own span of life he does not build well.” Jack or Tommy or whatever his name is, as he carries his hod of mor tar up the ladder is a builder, and his work will stand long after his earthly tribulations end, and his mundane gins are forgiven. The first grave digger was a delightful buffoon, » cheat and a charlatan, but he had vision, He boasted that he bullt stronger than the mason, the ship wright and the carnenter, and he argued his case with some plausibility The mason, the shipwright, the car penter, the poet, the preacher, the hod carrier, the writer. We must call them great. The world is In good hands. sess fs Somebody sent me an engagement book. 1 wonder if they know any more jokes like that. It reminds me of the old negro In jall calling dowr to the street to another colored mar to ask what time It was “What do you care, you ain't goin nowheres,” was the answer, That's me. I'd rather have a spelies or a book of synonyms, (Copyright by the McNaught Syndioats Ise.) Short Skirt May Remain Favorite Reformers Seem to Gain but Little Ground for Change of Style. The long skirters are bad psycholo- gists, asserts a fashion writer in the New York Herald- Tribune. Just when the knee-length skirt was getting ready to leave the spotlight—just when the couture had declared that the next move of the skirt hem would be in the direction of the ankles, just when even the scantiest skirts were attracting little more than casual no- tice, along come some bold, well-mean- Ing crusaders, broadcasting the pro- nunciamento that the abbreviated skirt must go, else the whole world descend into the maelstrom of moral decadence And straightaway debu- tante and matron, dowager and tHap- per, who had been casting around for something new by which to march at the head of the mode, sigh relievedly and pin thelr faith again in the short skirt. And only because well-intend- ing reformers more the toward have of publicity was Once direct | ed light ‘hich an | ready to retire like | Clnelr Tao this ; c generation which here t inaugurated both and the nature of a