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-