Ujgj Re&diivj <MV3 all Ihe ] jfflfH ESwNRM'S' (g)KIivGiD f5 1-1' ATTE, Fg lllSßi No. 53—Jam* and Jeffies I lJread ud jam, that is one bT toy fcworite lunches during the hot jßjmmer months. I don't think I trm exaggerating one bit when I that my mother's jams cannot be rivalled. Many a time during the past summer while we were filming some interior scenes for jf",The Right Direction," bread and [jam would he the extent of my lunch. I would always take a jar far two of my mother's "best," then jfchasc the ''props" for a toaf of bread and butter and finally munch Itway to my heart's content I am loot the only one who is fond of [this swt delicacy, Gordon 'Griffith, the Morosco kiddie, when ever his kr.cn sense tells him that jam is around will always hunt for 'pie for a "helping." & Jams are best made with small [fruit or chopped up large fruits. [•They are cooked with an equal iweight of sugar mrtil rich and fthick, then put into tumblers or 'final! jars and sealed very tight. V Jellies. —As I have stated before that mother is a "wonder" when it • comes to making jams and jellies. Her specialty is quince jelly. One 'day I was entertaining Kathlyn Williams and Myrtle Stedman up to the house and after much coax ing on the part of the three of us we managed to induce mother to bring ont some of her quince jelly. While mother got the jelly ready I prepared the tea. We chatted and \ talked "shop" over the tea and jelly really had a very enjoyable McNichol Bills Would Change Financial System Senator McNichol introduced four bills yesterday that intend a change in the methods of handling: State money. One of these appears to wipe out the executive controller's depart ment entirely. A hoard of finance and revenue is created. In accordance with the recomomndations of the economy anil efficiency commission. It is to consist of the Auditor General, State Treasurer. Attorney General and Sec retary of the Commonwealth. The. four fiscal boards in which these officers now figure are to be consolidated into one. Another McNichol bill provides that contingent funds shall be used only for postage, expressage, telephones, etc., and under no circumstances for clerk hire unless statutory authority exists. A fourth McNichol bill proposes to amend the constitution so that no money may be spent except as spe cifically provided by act of assembly. After reeeiving legislation from the House the Senate adjourned at 1 p'clock until 10 o'clock this morning. THICKS SOAR IN CHILE Santiago, Chile, April 25.—Extreme ly high prices are prevailing in Chile for wheat, peas, beans and other farinaceous foods. The continued rise in prices lias led to ati agitation by various elements, notably the labor parties, which is being' reflected in the press, to urge upon the govern ment a prohibition upon exports of such products. "WOMEI.SHOUFTO CHANGE NAME Heading, l'a„ April 25. —Because it has no significance as a family name and is correctly spelled and pronounced only by G < nvtns, the name of Wome .1 • t borough is to he changed by nuu P"o< , A dings to Weiser or Wei: rton, mi tho In dian interpretei ho founded the place. | Fashions of To-Day -By May Manton j tNDER garments are im riWpwfk II portant. Unless they are shapely, unless they fit we "' un ' ess th e >' arc adapted to 'iT their need, the toilet cannot make its best effect. This cor- Ir I set cover is one of the simplest in the world for it consists of a 1 \\ TO straight piece of embroidery or / A* of material as you like, but with I the straps over the shoulders it I ' s pretty and very dainty / /\V\'• i \\ rY /fit V ' blouse or a dressy afternoon \ \ fi* ilafflk \ costume. The petticoat is made \ y in five gores and that means \l; \ \ that it flares pretty and grace / \ while at the same time it \i is not bulky at the upper por- Jpp ~ *~T\ tion. It is joined to a smooth I l J 1 1 li\ fitting yoke and that yoke can /| In 'I 1 i\\ ke ma de as ' s on figure or I (5 , ! I with less depth, as preferred. | i| i I l|Pft For the medium size the l\ jji'l n 111 l corset cover will require, 1% ft || \\ l/l j |l\ \ yards of lace or embroidery 14 JLLI 111 \ W |> \ inches wide with yards of yltßiTOj-J i lljl IJbw ribbon I inch wide and the pet- Lf ticoat 3% yards of material 36 i v'/H llpsfk or 44 with extra for the ruffles. 1 The pattern of the corset j ■' : L~T| cover No. 8378 is cut in sizes 34 o>" 36, 38 or 40, 42 or 44 / \T l"T\ bust, of the petticoat No. 9361 Jj, / J I fi n rA\ in sizes from 26 to 36 inches waist, mjf / \ fl p S ny\ They will be mailed to any A \ T" iff r\\ address by the Fashion Depart v_ ,S '\ij Wfetfr 1 11\ ment of this paper, 011 receipt \Si B jjJllJ of ten cents for each. WEDNESDAY EVENING, lime. We then induced mother to tell us how it was accomplished and I here repeat it (or your use. Take the quinces, chop them fine and cover with water. Allow this to simmer until thev are tender. Use equal part sugar and drained fruit juice. Heat the quinces until tiie juke runs readily then turn into bags of unbleached muslin or two thicknesses of cheese cloth and then let drip. Measure juice and sugar. Boil the juice twenty minutes. Have the sugar in a shal low pan, heat through in an open Oven, then add boiling juice, allow ing it to boil up once, then take off of the fire and pour into tumblers. Spiced Fruits.—Spiced fruits are something that goes line with a picnic, in fact that is one of the essentials that I demand whenever we go for a day's outing. "Dusty" Farnum always uses a jar or two on his various fishing trips. For four pounds of prepared fruit al low one pint of vinegar, two pounds of brown sugar,'one half a cup of whole spices, cloves, all spice, stick cinnamon and cassia buds. Tie spices in thin muslin bag and boil for ten minutes with vine gar and jsugar. Skim and add fruit. Cook until tender. Boil down syrup, pour over fruit, and seal. If put in stone pots boil syrup three successive mornings and pour over fruit. Peaches, grapes, pears, berries can all be prepared in this way. "A. P." Newspapers Pledge Support in Waging War New York, April 25.—■ Newspaper publishers from all parts of the coun try assembled in New York yesterday for the Associated Press convention, passed a resolution pledging their "hearty support of the executives of the Government to carry out effect ively the mandate of the nation." Later at a patriotic luncheon the Stars and Stripes, I'nion Jack and Tri-Color were raised and unfurled amid the cheers of members and while a chorus of fifty voices sang the na tional anthems of tho United States, England and France. Joseph H. Choate and former Judge Peter S. Grosscup were tho principal speakers. Frank B. Noyes, president of the association, was toastinaster. TO AID V. S. ARMY New York, April 25.—Captain Charles Sweeney, an American, who has fought in the foreign legion in France, arrived to-day and will go to Washington to offer his services in the training of the American army. The French government has granted him unlimited leave of ab sence for this purpose. Captain Sweeney's valor at the front won for him the cross of the Legion of Honor. AVANT CHKAI'KH C'OAI. Philadelphia, April 25.—Fight to smash 'the coal gouge was started yesterday. It will be carried to the Federal Trade Commission, tho State Legislature, and, if necessary, to the Interstate Commerce Commission, in an attempt to force the Pennsylvania operators to abandon their unpatri otic plan to force prices to prohibi tive figures while the country is at war. JIISX OVER 43 EXKMI'T IX HITSKIA Petrograd, April 25.—The govern ment has approved a proposal made by the war minister to disband all soldiers over the age of 43 years. 77ie Scribb Family—They Live He —J I IBWH-EVERW RSf: IN HAMSBUM I lit 1 f 1 — 1 MAS THE STARS AND STRIPES SHOW- ISpm f ■ 1 | ||j ~t iFH M f ~jf ( j\ _____ m Nan sf Music Mountain * ? i i By* < £ FRANK H. SPEARMAN < 5 Author of "WHISPERING SMITH" , I : (Copyright ►* o ° "orl b!'a Son*) (Continued.) "I really don't know—X suppose is medicine." She heard her uncle turn in his bed at the sound of voices. Thinking only that he must not at arty cost see De Spain, Nan Stepped quickly into the hall and faced the messenger. "I was over at the doctor's otlice just now," con tinued her visitor evenly; "he asked me to bring this down for your uncle." She took the package with an incoherent acknowledgement. Without letting her eyes meet his, she was conscious of how fresh and clean and strong he looked, dressed in a livelier manner than usual— a partly cowboy effect, with a broad er hat and a gayer tie than he ordi narily affected. De Spain kept on speaking: "The telephone girl in the office downstairs told me to come right up. how is your uncle?" She regarded him wonderingly. "He lias a good deal of pain," she answered quietly. " Too bad he should have been hurt in such a way. Are you pretty well. Nan?" She thanked him. "Stay hero a good deal, do you? I'll bet you don't know what day this is?" • . Nan looked up the' corridor, but she answered to the point: "You'd lose." "It's our anniversary," she darted a look of indignant disclaimer at htm. But in doing so she met his "I'll Iset You Don't Know What Day This Is.'" eyes. "Have you seen the decorations in Main street? Come to the door iust a minute and see the way they've lighted the arches." She knew just the expression of his eyes that went with that tone. She looked vexedly at him to confirm her suspicion. Sure enough there in' the brown part and in the lids, it was, the most trouble some possible kind of an expression —hard to be resolute against. Her eyes fell away, but some damage had been done. He did not say another word. None seemed neces sary. He just, kept still and some thing—no one could nave said just what—seemed to talk for him to poor defenseless Nan. She hesitated helplessly. "I can't leave uncle," she objected at last. "Ask him to come along." Her eyes fluttered about the dimly lighted hall. "I ought not to leave.'' "I'll stay here at the door while you go." Irresolute, she let her eyes rest again for a fraction of a second on his eyes: when she drew a breath after that pause everything was over. "I'd better give him Ills medicine first," she said, looking toward the sickroom door. His monosyllabic answer was calm: "Do." Then as she laid her hand on the knob of the door to enter the room: "Can T help any?" "Oh, no!" she cried indignantly. He laughed silently: "I'll stay here." Nan disappeared. liounging against I the windowsill opposite the door, he HARRISBURG TELEGRAPH waited. After a long time the door was stealthily reopened. Nan tip toed out. She closed it softly behind her: "I waited for him to go to sleep," she explained rs she started down the corridor with De Spain. "He's had so much pain today—l hope he sleeps." "I hope so, too," exclaimed De Spain fervently. Nan ignored the implication. She looked straight ahead. She had noth ing to say. De Spain, walking beside her, devoured her witn His eyes; lis tened to her footfalls; rried to make talk; but Nan was silent. Standing on the wide verenda out side the front door, she assented to the beauty of tho distant illumi nation, but not enthusiastically. De Spain declared it could be seen very much better from the street below. Nan thought she could see very well where they stood. But by this time she was answering questions—dryly, it is true, De Spain leading the way a step or two forward at a time, coaxed her down the driveway. She stood again irresolute, he drinking in the fragrance of her presence after the long separation and playing her reluctance guarded ly. "Do you know," she exclaimed with sudden resentment, "you make it awfully hard to be mean to you?" With a laugh he caught her hand and made her walk down the hospi tal steps. "You may be as mean as you like," he answered indifferently. "Only, never ask me to be mean to you." "I wish to heaven you would be," she retorted. "Do you remember," he asked, "what we were doing a year ago today?" "No." Before h could speak again she changed her answer: "Yes. I do remember. If I say 'no* you'd be sure to remind me of what we were doing. We can't see as well here as we could from the steps." "But from here, you have the best view in Sleepy Cat of Music moun tain." "I come here often to look at it. You won't let me see you-—what can T do but loolr at where you live? How long are you going to keep me away?" Nan did not answer. He urged her to speak. "You know very well it is my people that will never be friendly with you," she replied. "How can I be?" They were passing a lawn settee. He sat down. She woud not follow. She stood in a sort of protest at his side, but he did not release her hand. "I'll tell you how you can be," he re turned. "Make me one of your people." "That never can be," she de clared stubbornly. "You know it as well as I do. Why do you say such things?" she demanded, drawing away her hand. "Do you want to know?" "It's because X love you." She strove to command herself. "Whether you do or not can't make any difference," she returned steadi ly. "We are separated by everything. There's a gulf between us. It never can be crossed. We should both of us be wretched if it e-cr were cross ed." He had risen from the bench and caught her Hand. "It's because we haven't crossed it we're wretched," he said determinedly. "Cross it with me now!" He cauKht her in his arms. She struggled to escape. She know what was coming and fought to keep her face from him. With resistless strength, and yet carefully as a mother "with an obstinate child, he held her slight body against his breast, relentlessly drawing her head closer. "Let me go!" she panted, twisting her averted head from the hollow of his arm. Drinking in the wine of her frightened breath, he bent over her in the darkness until his pulsing eagerness linked her warm lips to his own. She had sur rendered to her first kiss. He spoke. "The gulf's crossed. Are you so awfully wretched?" They sank together down on the bench. "What," she raltered, "will become of me now?" "You are better off now than you ever were. Nan. You've gained this moment a big brothei, a lover you can drag around the world after you with a piece of thread." "You act as if 1 could." "I mean it; it's true. I'm pledged to you forever—you, to me forever. We'll keep our secret till we can manage things; and we will manage them. Everything will come right. Nan, because everything must come right." "I only hope you are not wrong," she murmured, her eyes turned to ward the somber mountains. CIIAPTKR XVII. Danger. When she tiptoed into her uncle's room at midnight, Nan's heart beat as the wings of a bird beat from the broken door of a cage into a forbid den sky of happiness. She had le(t the room a girl; she returned a wo man. Sleep she did not expect or even ask for; the night was all too short to think of those tense, fearful mo ments that had pledged her to her lover. When the anxieties of her situation overwhelmed her, as they would again and again, she felt her self in the arms of this strange, reso lute man whom all her own hated and whom she knew she already loved beyond all power to put away. In her heart, she had tried this more than once—she knew she could not, would not, ever do it, or even try to do it, again. She rejoiced in his love. She trust ed. When he spoke she believed this man whom no one around her would believe; and she, who never had believed what other men avow ed, and who detested their avowals, believed De Spain, and secretly, guiltily, glowed in every word of his devotion and breathed faint in its every caress. Night could hardly come fast enough, after the next long day. A hundred times during that day she reminded herself, while the slow, majestic sun shone simmering on the hot desert, that she had promised to steal out into the grounds the minute darkness fell he would be waiting. A hundred times in the long after noon Nan looked into the cloudless western sky and with puny, eager hands would' have pushed the lag ging orb on its course that she might sooner give herself into the arms where she felt her place so sure, her honor sate, her helplessness so pro tected, herself so lovei*. How her cheeks burned after sup per when she asked her uncle for leave to post a letter downtown. llow breathless wiHi apprehension she halted as De Spain stepped from the shadow of the trees and drew her importunately beneath them for the kiss that had burned on her troubled lips all day.' How, girl-like knowing his caresses were ull her own knowing she could at an in stant call forth enough to smother her she tyrannized his Importun ing, and like a lovely miser, hoard ed her responsiveness under calfn eye and laconic whispers until, when she did give back liis eagerness, she made his senses reel. • ' How dreamily she listened to every word he let fall In his outpouring of devotion; how gravely she put up her hand to restrain his busy In trusion, and asked If he knew that no man In the world, least of all her fierce and burly cousin, had ever touched her Hps until he himself forced a kiss on them the night be fore. "And now!" She hid her face against his shoulder. "Oh, Henry, how I love you! I'm so ashamed I couldn't tell you if it weren't night: I'll never look you in the face again in the daytime." And when he told her how little he himself had had to do with, and how little he knew about girls, even from boyhood, how she feigned not to believe, and believed him still! i They were two children raised In the magic of an hour to the supreme height of life and dizzy together on its summit. "I don't sec how you can care for me, Henry. Oh, I mean it," she pro tested, holding her head resolutely up. "You know who we are, away off there in the mountains. Kvery one hates us. I suppose they've ] plenty of reason to; we hate every body else. And why shouldn't we'.'j We're at war with everyone. Youj know, better than T do, what goes on in the gap. I don't want to know; I try not to know; Uncle Duke tries to keep things from me—that day on Music—l couldn't believe you, meant it at all. And yet—l'm afraid I liked to try to think you did. When you looked at me I felt as if you could see right through me." Confidences never came to an end. And diplomacy came into its own almost at once in De Spain's efforts to improve his relations with the im placable Duke. The day came when Nan's uncle could be taken home. Do Spain sent to him a soft-spoken emissary, Hob Scott, offering to pro vide a light stage, wi;ti his compli ments, for the trip. The intractable mountaineer, with his refusal to ac cept the olive branch, blew Bob out of the room. Nan was crushed by the result, but De Spain was not to be dismayed. Lefever came to him the day after Nan had got her uncle home. "Hen ry," he began without any prelimin aries, "there is one thing about your precipitate ride up Music mountain that I never got clear in my mind. After the fight, your cartridge belt was hanging up in the barn at Cala basas for two weeks. You walked in to us that morning with your belt buckled on. You told us you put it on before you came upstairs. What- Oh, yes, I know, Henry. But that belt wasn't hanging downstairs with your coat earlier in the evening. No, Henry, it wasn't—not when I looked. Don't tell me such things, because —I don't know. Where was the belt when you found it?" "Some distance from the coat, John, I admit that. I'll tell you; 1 some one had moved the belt. It was not where I left it. 1 was hurried the morning I rode 111, and I can't tell you just where I found it." Lefever never bated ah eyelish. "I know you can't Henry. Because you won't. That Scotch hybrid McAlpin knows a few things, too, that he won't tell. All I want to say Is, you can trust that man too far. He's got all my recent salary. Every time Jeffries raises my pay that hairy pawed horse-doctor reduces it Just so much a month. And he docs it with one pack of fifty-two small cards that you can stick in your vest pocket." "McAlpin has a wife and children to support," sug-gested De Spain. "Don't think for a moment he does it" returned Lefever vehemently. "I support his wife and children my self." "You shouldn't play cards, John." "It was by playing cards that I lo cated Sassoorv Just the same. A little game with your friend Hull Page, by the way. And say, that man blew into Calabasas one day here lately with a twenty-dollar bill; it's a fact. Now, where do you suppose he got twenty dollars In one bill? I know I had it two hours after ne got there, and then in fifteen minutes that blamed bullwacker you pay thirty two a week to took it away from me, But I got Sassoon spotted. And where do you suppose Split-lips is this minute?" "Morgan's gap." "Quite so—and been there all the time. Now, Bob has the old warrant for him—the question is, how to get him out." De Spain reflected a moment be fore replying: "John, I'd let him alone just for the present," he said at length. Lefever's eyes bulged. "Let Sas- I soon alone?" "He'll keep—for a while, anyway." "What do you mean?" I "I don't want to stir things up too APRIL 25, 1917. that way Just at the min ute, John." . ..ot?" De Spain shuffled a little. "Well, Jeffries thinks we might let things rest till Duke Morgan and the others get over some of their soreness." Lefever astonished at the indiffer ence of De Spain to the opportunity of nabbing Sassoon, while he could be found, expostulated strongly. When De Spain persisted, Lefever, hutted, confided to Bob Scott that when the general manager got ready he could catch Sassoon himself. De Spain wanted for Nan's sake, as well as his own, to see what could be done to pacify her uncle and his relatives so that a wedge might be driven in between them and their notorious henchman and Sassoon brought to book with their consent; on this point, however, he was not quite bold-faced enough to take his friends into his confidence. De Spain, as fiery a lover as he was a fighter, stayed none of his courting because circumstances put Music mountain between him and his mis tress. And Nan, after she had once surrendered, was nothing behind in the chances she unhesitatingly took to arrange her meetings with De Spain. He found in ner, once her girlish timidity was overcome and a woman's confidence had replaced it, a disregard of consequences, so far as their own plans were concerned, that sometimes took away his breath. 'X'he very day after she had got her uncle home, with the nirl of Hatter lee Morgan nnd u/i antiquated spring wagon. Nail rode, later in the after noon, over to Calabasas. The two tliut would not be restrained had made their appointment at the lower lava beds halfway between the gap and Calabasas. The sun was sinking behind the mountain when De Spain galloped out of the rocks as Nan turned from the trail and rode to ward the black and weather-beaten meeting place. (To He Continued) Daily Dot Puzzle •24. ( N ( r ' * 25 2fe 20 * : • ; 31 5 Zo • ZS I • z 19 i 1* •%' 5> 8 10 * IS • *l3 * 7 if I*2 i J* Jar# yA 12 THE HONEYMOON HOUSE By HAZEL DALE By llazcl Dale Jarvis had done more than ha knew that ntght when he had spoken to Karen Mikal in the street and asked her to pose for him. Karen up to that time had kept a tight rein on herself, and, forced to work in close contact with girls far below her in every way, she had endured in si lence, forgetting that her youth was battling for expression. Janet had opened to Karen a new path of life. Janet was the finest typo of American girlhood, her ideals were the Ideals that make for progress. For any girl to meet and know Janet was an education; then what must her friendship have meant to half-starved Karen Mikal, with her passionate love of beauty and her abhorrence of the life she led? Karen's father had been a man of culture, her mother she had never known at all. But after her father's death she had scraped together enough money to come to America with two other girls who were join ing friends. And, once in New York, she had been forced to accept any means of livelihood to keep body and soul together. Her companions were coarser types; they lacked her fineness and hor really marvelous beauty. That very beauty had been a source of keen anguish to the girl, for it had brought her unwelcome attentions and continual fear. Fear was what had sprung to her heart the night Jarvis had spoken to her, but something about him had invit ed her trust, and when he had taken her to Janet. Karen had known her first bit of happiness since she had come to the city. No one, not even Janet knew what Karen Mikal might become, given the means for finding herself. Even Janet knew that there wero depths about the girl hitherto un sounded and feelings that an average woman was not capable of feeling. Things at present were this way with Karen. She had been plunged Into the interest and excitement of the Honeymoon House. She had been made a personal friend of Janet's, even more, Janet and Jarvis had taken her under their wing and had been the first to encourage her and tell her that they thought she had talent. Miss Alden's failure to show in terest had hurt the girl, but only temporarily. Her life had changed too much In the past few months to permit of the horrible despair that used to clutch at her heart, and now, there was Dick Armstrong. Dick Armstrong, the artist had been struck with Karen's loveliness. He longed to put her on canvas, hp thought in a second of a hundred ways that he might make her beauty stand out. The portrait Jarvis had done of her was a continual eyesore to Dick. He wanted to paint Karen himself, and her refusal to pose for him had astounded him. Karen was poor, her clothes were shabby, and Dick knew that she needed the money. He had put his request for a series of sittings blunt ly, as Tie always did everything. His code of life did not permit of pan dering to women who had to be paid for doing things. Up to that time Dick had not analyzed his feelings, but the thrill of interest he had felt when the girl had so plainly told her that she was not a professional .nodel, made him realize for the first time that here was a wo nan who, with nothing behind her in the way of money or influence, had thrown his offer of work in his face. Something primitive sprang to the fore when he had met her cold eyes evenly, something that he Instantly laughed to scorn and throttled be fore it had time to an impres sion. Janet had told Karen something of Dick's reputation as a man, and Karen herself had observed a great deal, for she had met Dick time and again in the Honeymoon House, and at Keats Barnard's studio. Dick's at titude toward life was negligent. His huge blond head and almost perfect features had given him tin easy rein with women, and ho boasted even be fore women whom he wished to Im press with his power. Women were curiosities to him. and Janet and he had been at sword's points for a long time, be cause Dick had refused to take her sword's points for a long time, be cause Dick had refused to take her work seriously. Dick had taught Keats Barnard all that she knew about pastel drawing, and Keats,had forged her way ahead until she made more than Dick at his own game. Dick painted when he needed the money, and his lack of Ideals had robbed his pictures of atmosphere. Ho knew this fact as well, but laugh ed at its possibility of frightening him. Karen's quick love of beauty had tjirllled her when she had met Dick for the first time. A certain lawless ness about him had awakened a re sponse in her that made her afraid of him. Naturally reticent, she had never mentioned liking him one way or the other until the day she had received his curt note, which she longed to ignore even while she wanted to accept his invltatton. Kar en's soul was starved for a little pleasure, and the prospect of a cos tume hall and a possible meeting with Dick's brother, who was * playwright, was even more entic ing. Karen wondered if she and Dick Armstrong could ever be friends. She little dreamed of anything else be tween them. At present she was only afraid. Afraid of the way he looked at her, and of the fact that she wanted t okno whim even while atx coldly held him at arm's length. (To Be Continued.) The New Suburb ESTHERTON River-Drive SALE May sth 1917
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers