GINGER by Ethel Hueston Illustrations by Irwin Myers Copyright, by Bobbs Merrill Co, WNU Service CHAPTER VIll—<Continued —1 Sn But the sparkle had gone from their merry plans, aud it was a relief when Eddy started the motor for the ride back to town. “Won't you come along, Alex?” In. vited Ginger pointedly. “We .ap take one more.” “Oh, no, thanks. Miriam promised to take me in herself along about midnight. My doctor prescribed more Pay Dirt for me.” At the end of the driveway, they looked sack. Miriam sat on the high gate, Alexander Murdock steadying her with one hand, while he swung the gate beneath her with the other. Their father smiling, waved farewell. “Poor father,” mourned Ginger. “What would sou call it but preacher's fuck, to lose his eyes just whea there's the most to see?” A dull supper at the parsoaage, fol- lowed by the usual evening service at the church. Tub Andrews hurried gp to them after the service, offering himself as an escort bome—a mere formality for those few safe intervening feet. “1 don't think we ooght to,” objected Marjory. “You the minister is staying with us—aund | think we ought —1 don’t think It would look well for us to go off and leave him—' “Ginger can take him,” suggested Tub generously “She can give him pointers on running a church—Ginger can give pointers on running any- thing.” “Bm Ginger is so young,” stam. mered Marjory. “1 feel that I am rather the head of the house now, and" Hirnm Buckworth himself Lppeared at that moment. “Girls, if you will excuse me,” he said gravely. “1 will walk over with Mr. Westbury. We are discussing some church business. “Hurray for Jop,” chimed Tub “that sulis me to a T. We've got some church business of our own to talk about” Hiram hesitated a his lip as though he felt annoyance. but nodded at ast, and wen: away, not without reluctance. And Mar Jory yielded her smiles to Tub An drews, clinging meanwhile to Ginger to ensure her accompaniment, as they walked slowly homeward. Ob the fa miliar old veranda, Tub started at once, cheerfully, in the direction of the hammock. “You can't stay tonight, Tub.” sald Marjory, with a smile warm enough to soften her dismissal. “I have to send you right straight nome. | have heen under the weather for a day or two, and Miss Jenkins didn't want me to 80 to church at all. She has ordered me (0 bed.” Tub, complaining icudly, submitted perforce to this ejection. and sauntered awny, whistling lugubriously, Marjory still clung to her sister's tand. “Ginger, wait a minute, let him hear you. bammock a while.” They sat down, huddled together, and waited In silence until he sound of Tub's footsteps. and Tub's whistling. subsided into the darkness “Ginger I want to ask you something. Will you just sii here with me. and talk antil—Mr. Buckworth comes home? And Ginger, If ue comes over. and sits Gown--he always does, Fou KOoow- would you mind—would you just as Hlef— You wouldn't mind, would you" “Go to bed, you mean?” “Well, you gee, dinger, | want to ask him about something.” “I'see. I'm to talk my head off ani he geis bere, and then I'm to go to bed.” ‘ Marjory squeezed her arm about her sister's waist, “You see— Well, you see, Ginger it is like this. You remember that night when you crept downstairs how long ago it seems !--and he had Gils arm around me. Well, Ginger, | didn’t care a bit because you saw It it didn’t make any difference to me But | think it embarrassed him, or made him angry, or something, for he hasn't so much as looked at ne since.” “1 see,” sald Ginger duly, “I want to tell him that you-you didn’t think a thing of ft—a tittle thing like that, | think maybe he thinks I feel bad about iL” “You don’t, do you?” “No.” Marjory's volce sank to a whisper. “Not a bit. | like bim.* So the two girls sat, and walted. and presently from the church, they heard the two men. coming siowly, talking as they walked. Marjory clung to Ginger's hand, and beld her breath At the end of the flagstone path rhey stood for a while before they sald good night and parted. “Y-you talk,” whispered Marjory. Ginger talked, “1 think it's such ’ see, moment, biting Sh! Don’t Let's sit In the a silly name for a farm,” seid Ginger. “Just like Eddy Jackson. Who else would do such a dumb thing? Pay Dirt. dverybody knows a farm is nothing but dirt, and If it didn't pay, nobody would farm it. Oh, hello, Mr, Buckworth. Home so soon? It's lovely tonight. Won't you come and talk to us?” “Not tonight, Pleasant dreams.” side. The girls sat very still for a mo- ment. They heard him say good night to Miss Jenkins, and go up the stairs. Marjory's tense arm about Ginger's walst relaxed suddenly. Her quiver Ing breath was more a sob than a sigh, Her shoulders rose convul- sively, “You—can go now. Thanks, Gin- ger. Ull sit here a minute, and listen to the night.” Ginger went In without a word. She was a stricken soul. She climbed to the studio, and counted her store of dimes. She looked at her com. plicated page of muliplication and addition, She sat for a long time, figuring, thinking. Obviously, Marjory and the rich: ness of a wealthy husband were to be denied them as succor. Marjory was forever lost to her plans for the future. All the years of washing dishes for the sake of Marjory's hunds had been in vain. All her dreams of a romantic figure breezing mysteriously into their commonplace circle were dissipated Into thin alr. thanks, 1 am tired. And he passed In- “Ginger, What Do You Mean? Is Marjory Engaged, or Isn't She? Ginger was practical enough to ad mit defeat when she met it, and Marjory was her Waterloo. Marjory. beaatlful peach-bloom Marjory would marry a minister, and her future would be that or catering to a Meth odist church, and a parsonage mini mum of three, In that hour, Ginger Illa rose to great heights of renunciation. She relinquished ail her dreams of for- tune, of fame, of social supremacy for ber beautiful sister. She would be satisfied to see her merely happy. She smiled. She went down the wabbly ladder without a moment's pause, for her decision was made She knocked at the door of her fa ther's room, now occupied by Hiram uckworth, Silence prevailed knocked again. “Who is it, please? Just a minute He opened the door with ‘ne hand as he struggled Into Lis coat with the other. Ginger, all uninvited, stepped inside, and closed the door behind her. “Mr. Buckworth,” she began gently ‘1 was just going to bed,” he in terrupted rudely. “You misunderstood what 1 told you," she persisted patiently. *1 didn’t say Marjory was engaged-— exactly—" “No. You merely sald It was un- derstood.” “But I didn’t mean s man. money.” “Money?" He was entirely puzzled. “Yes. You see, we have always been so very hard up. Father did not go to seminary as you did—he didn’t even go to college, He only gets about as much money now after all these years as you will get at the very start. And it takes so much for his eyes. aud the furnitura is simply falling to pleces, and you can see yourself we haven't any clothes.” “Yes, | know, Ginger.” he sald not without sympathy. “But what has that to do with—~her?” “She is so beautiful. So we nat. urally decided thar she had better within. Ginger I meant THE CENTRE marry a millionaire, You must ad. mit she's got the looks for it.” “Ginger, what do you menn? Is Marjory engaged, or isn't she?” “Not engaged-—not exactly. jut It was all understood--we talked it over and we ill agreed-—we girls did, that Is, father just laughed at us—that Margie should marry money, lots of money, milllong—" “And she's not engaged to that—fat young Andrews—or snybody else—" “Certainly not. There's no man mixed vp in it at all. Just money.” If looks could slay, the career of Ellen Tolliver would bave ended at that moment. “Why, you little devil!” he lated Irrevercuntly, and fung roughly out of his way. “She's still In the hammock,” called Ginger meekly, Then she went immediately to bed. She wept for a while, sofily, for it Is natural that youth should abandon its dreams and Its expectations of great riches with reluctance. But In end she smiled, and siiffened her slim little shoulders beneath the white sheets, Very well, then. future of the entire household volved upon her, and her alone. “Selah,” she whispered Into darkness. ejacu- her S——— CHAPTER IX A great grandeur, bulent spirit had schooled herself to accept life as peace, a sort descended upon the as opportunity came. That the op- concerned Marjory, she was aware, but without resentment. all, perhaps one had no righ: After to at. like herself. As for Miriam and the grocery clerk, she yet had hopes Alexander Murdock was leaving on this very day, and Ginger did not for a moment believe that the sensible twin was so deeply interested as to disqualify her for Interest in more intriguing #gures—granted the ap- pearance of such figures. Get her method, awany--that was the best Ginger was adjusting self to a new Impression of the sensi ble twin. So still she had always seemed, so subtly impenetrable, that in contrast with Marjory's radiance she bad appeared more of a lability than anything else. jut there was something strange about Miriam Ginger did not understand it. She remembered how Tub Andrews, even in the gorgeous nresence of Marjory arrayed for the beauty pageant, had succumbed to Miriam's stillness. She remembered how Alexander Murdock, fa mere grocer, of course, but still no doubt possessive of the usual male inclinations, had passed over Marjory with a passing cordiality, to plant Strange about her! everything, Ginger Miriam, about feet of Strange thoughr. “The world,” she concluded largely, “it all gone aseehee jeehee, The grocers grovel to brains, and the preachers pick beauty. It's all wrong.” But perhaps when the twins found themselves away from the confiniug familiarities of Red Thrush, away among strangers, at the normal school ~with clothes that became girls of their profession, and their looks clothes pald for from contributions to the home for the biind— But an. other annoying thought arose to dis turb the even tenor of her plang At the normal school they wonld meet only teachers—primary teach ers, teachers of geography, teachers of Latin, English and algebra. Gin ger sighed. It was unfortunate, but it was the best they could manage this year—what with the operation, and the retirement on pension. Je. sides, II an embryonic teacher conld supplant the can grocer in Miriam's heart, no doubt a little iater on, the new conqueror could also be con. quered by, say, an embryonic finan cier. She must hope for the best As for Marjory—Marjory, whose beauty, and normal to study to be a teacher, when pedagogy, when all her future held was the accommodation of her person to missionary societies, and Indies’ aids, and the minimum of three? The finger of relentless logic pointed in“another way. Let Marjory prepare herself for keeping a parsonage by keeping a parsonage--their own. She could take Miriam's place as servitor to their father, thus leaving Ginger free for and for the conduct of her favorite charity. (TO BE CONTINUED) A Stonehenge Mystery Ancient and mysterious Stonehenge is located some nine miles trom Salis bury, and near the little town of Amesbury, In Wiltshire, England. This circular formation of stones encloses what Is commonly called the Altar stone. What Its origin or purpose is time or research has not revealed, but it is obviously connected with some form of observation of the sun, pos sibly sun worship. It is generally be tieved to have been erected some 4,000 years ngo, possibly by the tribe from the Continent which brought the iden of cultivation of land to England In the Bronze age. To the east of the Stone circle Is the Hele stone or Friar's heel, over which at dawn on June 21—namely, at the summer sol of the Past stice—the sun rises when viewed from the Altar stone. Other pointed stones mark the rise of the sun at the win. ter solstice and sunset at midsummer, At few places In England can the thoughts run riot to such an extent as in this circle of Immense stones stand: ing In solitude overloeking Salisbury plain. Pletures of human sacrifice and heathen rites spring readily to the imagination, i Hah Record Bone Some Idea of the Immense size of prehistoric reptiles can be gathered from the fact that it touk sixteen men to lift a bone of ane discovered in Africa R, CENTRE HALL. PA. 1. Franklin at the age of seventy. Painted in Paris in 1783 by Joseph Siffred Duplessis. This por- low, 2. Vice-Commander Daniel F. Gibbs American Legion lays a wreath at the statue of Franklin, near the Troca- Richard's” Mem. “Poor ceremony, 3. The famous “Fur Cap” portrait of Franklin, made in France a few months after his arrival there in 1777. Drawing by Desrayes, print by Le- It gives an idea of the Frank. lin who was so much admired by the ladies in Nantes, Paris and Passy as a “patriarch,” as a “peasant,” and as the shrewdest of all diplomatists. (From “Franklin, The Apostle of Mod. Little, Brown and Company.) 4. Franklin Bache Huntington of son of Benjamin Franklin, places a wreath sent by President Coolidge on the grave of his ancestor in Philadel. phia on the anniversary of Frank. lin’s birthday, January 17, 1929. By ELMO SCOTT WATSON I' THE time Benjamin Frank- i 3 r in France that his ns familiar moon. And tat- use. For, In for French could not find out about him. The newspapers carried column upon col umn about him: historians and blog. raphers vied with each other in writ ing about his career and he was ple- tured In Innumerable eof The flood of Franklin that then has continued ever gince, especially in his native land. Few Americans have been more writ about than enjamin Franklin, would seem that American and biographers had ex- hausted the possibility of telling any- thing new about him. But it has re. mained for a brilliant French scholar to write a new blography which stud fes the whole fleld of his life and ace tivities In the light of innumerable documents, among them more than six hundred letters, hitherto unpub- lished, and which presents what Is probably the most complete view of Benjamin Franklin that has yet been written. The author is Bernard Fay and the book is “Franklin, The Apos- tie of Modern Times" published by Little, Brown and Company of Bos ton, Out of this new work, based upon facts which have been gathered to gether for the first time, ‘emerges a new Franklin, The Franklin which Americans have hitherto known has always been a figure which challenges our admiration because he was such a versatile, many-sided man. But “hu- man” as was this Eighteenth century character, he has not always been un- Twentieth century the Interpreta- tion of Professor Fay he becomes more understandable and more easily understood. But the title of the book gives the clew to the reason why— Franklin was “the apostle of modern ». lin was li ' x 0f overs enthusiasm too much gravings literature started ten until it historians dalla, once characterized Franklin as “the first Rotarian™ and Professor Fay phrases the same thought In these words “His career was the apo- theosis of the good fellow.” “The innumerable facts that 1 have gathered here for the first time bring us closer to Franklin and show him te be more plcturesque, more in con. trast to the background of his epoch, the Eighteenth century,” he writes In his preface, “This blography Is neither local nor national, but is the story of one of the great leaders of men in the Eighteenth century. Thus, one ean Judge and estimate his Immense in- fluence, which was also varied, as he dominated the political, sclentific and philosophic world of his time. But of all his titles to glory, the most out- standing one Is that he was the first bourgeois of the world. “In this Eighteenth century which attempted to do away with aristoe racy, and to orient itself to the dome ination of the middle-class, Franklin was the great precursor, the great ex. ample, He defined the principles of the bourgeois in his works, and made his life a pattern to follow, He exem- plified It by Poor Richard and this ted to his influence. To understand the amplitude and Importance of this influence, Franklin had to be consid. ered from an International standpoint, and his activity in science, religion and, Philosophy had to be fully stud: Considered from that standpoint, Times ho Franklin stands revealed not as a pro- vincial Yankee who glorified common sense, as so many of his biographers have portrayed him, nor simply as a great American, but one of the great men of his century and a man who lived in perfect times, even though in his wisdom and he was far in advance harmany with his his foresight of his times. Professor Fay's use of the new Franklin material which he discovered has enabled him to clear up many matiers in regard to Franklin's reli gion, morals and social activities which have heretofore been but little understood. As to his religious be- liefs it can now be seen that he be- lieved in a Supreme Being. He re- garded Jesus as a great moral teach- er and In regard to the immortality of the soul he subscribed to the Pytha- gorean doctrine of survival in a new body with new genses and new ideas, That belief is reflected in the epl- taph which he wrote for himself ear ly in life and which reads: The Boay oO BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, Printer, (Like the cover of an old book, Ita contents torn out, And stript of its lettering and gilding.) Lies here, food for worms. Yet the work itself shall not be lost, For it will, as he believed, appear once more, In a new And more beautiful edition, Corrected ane amended The Aton. +A delist In his early life, he believed that man could do no evil in a world where all events were foreorflained by the Deity and that man therefore should take his pleasure where he found it. That belief was strength. ened by his experiences in the notori- ously Immoral London of the early Eighteenth century, but when he be- came dislilusioned through the betray- al by friends he had trusted, he de- termined to shape his life for himself and for that purpose he set down four cardinal rules of guidance—economy, perseverance, geod-will and loyalty, Later he lengthened this list by thir teen—temperance, silence, order, reso- lution, frugality, Industry, sincerity, Justice, moderation, cleanliness, tran. quility, chastity and humility, In the practice of these he was successful in all but two—order and chastity, None of Fay's new revelations is more - interesting than those dealing with the part which his membership fn the Masons played In his career. The Masonle soclety had been estab. lished in Philadelphia in 1727 at the time when Franklin was enly a com. paratively unknown young printer. It was composed largely of rich mer chants who did not look with favor upon Franklin, But he forced his way inte the society (by showing how ef. fecively he could use his newspaper against It, If its members kept him out) and his Masonle affiliations helped win for him position of posimaster general of the colonies and 8 path when he first diplo- the later It smoothed h went nglan } iw matic mission It was even more valuable when he was sent to France to enlist French ald for the colonies during the lution. “Through the Masouss he had access to the newspapers which were officially controlled by the govern- ment, but which were really written by the Masons and the philosophers, such as Morellet, Suard, De Ia Dix- merie, who were all Franklin's friends.” says Fay. “Practically all of the French newspapers published owtside of France were in the hands of the Masons also.” Franklin had hls writ- ings accepted by all of these and, be- ing the master propagandist that ne was, he made the most of his oppor- tunity to present America’s cause to Europe, The career of Benjamin Franklin is one of the strangest paradoxes In history. One of them is that this son of a poor Boston candlemaker and apprentiee to a poor printer should live to record the fact that “Tho' I did not think that I should ever iit. erally stand before kings . . . I have stood before five, and even had the honor ef sitting down with one, the King of Denmark, to dinner.” An- other is the fact that a man who was almost entirely self-eduncated should have universities of two continents vying with each other in conferring upon him honorary degrees. But most Interesting of all is the fact that this man who was so typi cally American that he became a ver itable symbol of America, even In his lifetime, was never understood or loved by his own people, He was dis. liked intensely by the “best families” of Pennsylvania and was distrusted by many others in the colonies as a char. latan and a trimmer. The distrust in Pennsylvania Is easily understood. He was the organizer of the small farm. ers, mechanics and small tradesmen, the democratic forces in that colony, and as such his nume would natarally be anathema to the aristocratic sup. porters of the proprietors, the Penns. Logically, he should have been re garded In the same way by aristo- cratic, elegant France. Instead, that country took this simple democrat to its heart in his lifetime and all but canonized him after hs death. “His moral and religious theories frightened the century and environ- ment he lived In" writes Fay. “He was accused alternately of atheism and bigotry, for though his God re. sembled its parent, the: Christian DI vinity, It had distinct differences. When, at length, Franklin had many adherents, it was because of a double misunderstanding ; in America. he was followed because he was believed to be a Christian: In France, becuse he was classed with the atheists, , , » levo-
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers