20 Pi ReadiisJ all Itv farcJkl Pj HER LOSS IS RED CROSS GAIN This Woman Gave $1 to Cause Everytime She Gossiped About Anyone By MRS. WILSON WOOPROW Dora and I had luncheon with a man friend of ours yesterday. The three of us -were sitting about the table, talking of the things of the moment. One of the charms of to day is that it always offers us an entirely fresh line of goods, and the great interest of living lies in the knowledge that to-morrow's assort ment will be quite different. Hence tlie almost poignant value of that phrase, "Daily newspapers are pub lished every day." We had been talking about things really worth while, and then sud denly one of us asked. "Has either of you seen Alicia lately?" That began it. In a moment our heads were together and we had chucked Alicia into the gossip mill and were grinding away industri ously. Presently I looked about the res taurant. Except for the few tables where a man and a maid were gaz ing into each other's eyes, forget ting to eat their perfectly good food —which in these days is the true gauge of love, since not to devour the last scrap whe nevery bite is worth its weight in gold seems criminally wasteful —except, then, tor those under the thrall of the grand passion, little groups sat with their heads together, all, all en gaged in dissecting the absent, who were given no opportunity to pre sent their own cases. Bits of conversation floated my way now and then. "I consider her entirely to blame; she knew all about him before she married." From another direction I caught: "Yes, they say that he is going from bad to worse;" and from still another: "Oh. my dear, she never draws a sober breath." Scandal to right of us. scandal to the left of us, volleyed and thun dered. Dora suddenly broke off in the middle of a most interesting story, a look of dismay on her face. Then she slowly opened her purse and drew from it a fresh one-dollar bill. Still with the corners of her mouth drawn down, she folded it up and put it in another compartment of her bag. We watched this singular performance with deep interest, and Henry, who is an inquisitive soul, made bold to ask: "What's the answer, Dora? Why this cryptic ceremony, and also why the rueful countenance with which you accompany It?" "I've reason enough to look dole ful," she returned. "That's a fine. 1 began the new year with a vow to give a dollar to the Red Cross every time I caught myßelf back biting and gossiping. It was surely a lucky day for that organization when Isrmade that vow. I'm not a welcher, you know, If I say I'll do a thing, I do it. But I tell you. It keeps me practically strapped,. And I never thought of myself as a scandalmonger beitire, either. It's bedn an awful revelation." "Oh, don't take it so seriously," I urged. "I've always said that you bear false witness against your neighbor as little as any woman I know." "That's no comfort." She was still downcast. "The checks I have to send to the Red Cross are more convincing than any kind words you can say. It makes me furious!" She sat up energetically. "Here I am, sacrificing my summer wardrobe and all kinds of things I had planned to do, but can't afford now, because all my spare money has gone to pay fines. And all on account of a trivial and worthless habit. Well," she shut her mouth quite grimly, "I know one thing, I am going to overcome it or go broke trying." Henry looked at her with a tol erant smile. "Why go against na- Compensation Act Blanks For the convenience of law yers and small corporations we have arranged in book form a quantity of Accident Blanks sufficient for a year's supply. Sent to any address on receipt of price, 11.00. The Telegraph Printing Co. Printing, Binding, Designing, Photo Engraving, Die Stamp ing, Plate Printing HARBISBURG, PA. Bringing Up Father Copyright, 1917, International News Service —*— —*m By YoU BRUTE.-XOO ] f BYCOLLV- l T7OO OOTVT TALK f WOULD YOU T7 QH' I G Ssl a //,r T NEVE* THINK OF CM*TFORer CARE IF I DIED! LIKE THAT- -f-E Wirri V 1 ? ou: 1 it > ID * I WOULDN'T [ THROW CUVf \ W- .. -J THE RIGHT WAY J ™ Nfi W ( OUT WHO'S RlfiHT ' NOl?ft O'BRIEN- 171 , THIS'S THt NEBBY NEIWOK- [ I JOFF-ER !'. r( TO SAY IT IS / NAMES !! OUT - It W 0 RK? LUS A FRENCH MAID RIGHT *7 „ ~ M 30FF-REE ) ITS 70FF-ER j 1 —l _j—-' IK 1 "} j AWY YES, ONE Tt|AT 7 J, * y FRENCH ture?" he inquired. "Women were born to gossip, as the sparks fly up ward." This got on my nerves. "Bosh, Henry!" I exclaimed. "Men gossip as freely and as often as women. Your clubs. My word! Let me Quote to you from a recent poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox: 'Then there were tales from club and smoking-rooms, the submarines of gossip bringing some name down.' "I think." I went on. "that when it comes to tittle tattle about people, it's an even break between men and women, horse and horse. The only reason women are accounted the worst of fenders is because they have had more time to waste on it." "But we can't always be talking: 'Shakespeare and the musical glasses,'" protested Henry. "The proper study of mankind is man, and the most interesting things about him are his follies and foibles. I'll offset Ella Wheeler Wilcox with Emerson: 'Blame is safer than praise. As long as all that is said against me, I feel a certain assur ance of success. But as soon as honeyed words of praise are spoken for me, I feel as one that lies un protected before his enemies." "You're like the Devil when he quotes the Scriptures for his own purposes," I retorted. "Oh. well, have it your own way," he shrugged his shoulders. "Only I'm disappointed. You two were rather amusing when you were shredding our friend. After all, we're only poor, weak mortals, and you know what a pitiable thing human nature Is." He had flicked me on a raw spot. "My dear Henry," I returned, "I freely admit that as you sat here a few moments ago, gossiping with two women and eagerly adding your mite to the general destruction, you were a rather contemptible object, but I also know that if something big had been required of you at that same moment you would have been right on the spot. "Some day when the history of our world's war is written in retro spect," I continued, "men will urge their- sons to read, it and, shaking their heads, sadly will say, 'Ah, there were giants in those days! A greatness in human nature, a race vision which has vanished from the earth in these degenerate times.' "The truth is, that men and wom en are great the moment it is re quired of them to be so. Daily the papers record marvelous deeds. A week ago I was poring breathlessly over the story of a thrilling con flict in the air and suddenly I burst out laughing. But my laughter was touched with awe. for the account said, quite casually. 'The airman saw the other biplane coming to ward him and hid behind a cloud.' It sounded like a page from myth ology. It might have read. "Phaeton drove the horses of the Sun across the mountains of the moon.' and have been equally commonplace. " 'So nigh Is grandeur to our dust. A hospital vessel Is struck by a submarine and goes down; the crew and the wouniled stand at at tention while the sick are lowered into the lifeboats. I go out to take a walk and pass the recruiting sta tions; young men with all their lives before them are offering to embark on the most uncertain adventure possible, and are facing square, 'That old, grim hazard, Glory or the Grave.' The Premier of England tells of the enthusiasm with which his countrywomen undertook to re pair flawed shells, knowing that they took their lives in their hands when they did so. "Human nature a pitiable thing! In all the history of the world there has never been a time when, 'There came that voice without reply: 'Tls man's perdition to be safe, when for the truth he ought to die,' that this Ignoble, weak and miserable human nature has not nobly, strongly and fearlessly responded. "The Insider" By Virginia Terhune Van de Water CHAPTER XXXVII. Tom had been back at school for some days when my birthday came around.' No reference had been made to the anniversary since the night when Mr. Norton had asked me on what date It fell. 1 supposed he had for gotten all about it. 1 found myself at this period oc cupying in the household a less formal position than I had held for the first month or two of my pres ence here. The fact that I ate my meals at the family table made a difference in my own sentiments, and, I felt sure, a subtle change in the feeling of the entire menage. Mrs. Gore was forced to accept me as an equal; the servants regarded me more as a superior than when I was only Grace's governess. Twice during the week following Tom's departure my employei brought friends home to dinner —on the first occasion, one man; on the second, two men. In both instances he introduced his guests to me as he might to any woman in his home. He did not speak of me as his daughter's governess, but rather as one of the family. I wondered if these strangers considered me a relative of Mr. Norton's, as had his business acquaintances on the night when ITiad played hostess for him. Mrs. Gore gave me no chance to preside as hostess how. She always took her place at the head of the board and bore her share of the conversation. I was secretly glad she did this. It releived me of much responsibility. On the night before my birthday, I went up to my room as soon as dinner was over. I sypposed that Mr. Norton was going out or would spend the evening reading in his den. Twenty-two To-morrow I did not want leisure in which to muse on the past to-night. A year ago my father and I had cele brated my birthday quietly to gether. He had known that he would not be with me much longer, but he had been unusually cheer ful. I knew It was for my sake that he smiled and talked, and I felt as if my heart would break. Now, as I thought of the mor row, when I would be twenty-two years old, a sense of depression as sailed me. There was nobody to whom my birthday meant anything. I would not let myself break down and cry, so, to tight away sad mem ories. I began to rea<. A light footfall sounded In the 1 hall and my employer's voice called my name. I opened the door. He was standing there waiting. "Will you," he asked in subdued tones, "come . downstairs for a few minutes? 1 have told my sister that 1 want you to try over a piece | of music I brought home this aft ernoon. That is reason enough for your coming, and it is, moreover, the truth." "Very well," I agreed. "I will come." I was not surprised at his request, for frequently of late he had asked me to go into the drawing-room after dinner and play for him. I was not a skilled performer, but I loved music, and I played well enough to please him. Usually Mrs. Gore was present at such times. To-night she had gone to her room. When I descended to the draw ing room the music was on the rack of the piano and my employer was waiting for me. I sat down at once and ran over the dainty frag- ment—a song from one of the musi cal successes of the season. "It's pretty, isn't it, even if it is so light," I commented when I had finished it. Something to Say He was standing by the piano, and nodded. "Yes, it's pretty. But it was only a ruse to get you down here for a few minutes. I have something to say to you." His manner was grave, yet he smiled. "To-morrow," he remarked, "is your birthday. Had you for gotten?" I shook my head. "And did you fancy that I had?" he queried. Then, as X did not an swer, he went on: "I know you thought I had. But I remembered the date perfectly. And I want you to give me a little pleasure in celebration of the day." "What?" I asked, mystified. "I went to-day to a certain large shop where I have an account," he explained. "I told the head of the cloak department—l have her card here—that you would come to-mor row and be fitted for a certain even ing cloak I ordered for you." "Oh, no," I gasped. "I can not let you do that." "But you will, child," he insisted, kindly but firmly. "And," he hurried on, -"I also selected a little evening dress for you—a fluffy and lacey kind of thing—that will just suit you." "But, Mr. Norton, it's impossible," I exclaimed. "I can't accept such gifts from you!" "Why not?" he demanded. Then as I was silent—"Why not?" he re peated. "Look me squarely in the eyes and give me a good reason why you should not?" I did not know what to say. I was overwhelmed by his kindness. If I resented his gifts I would seem ungracious. But had I a right to let him give me such things? Yet on what ground could I refuse? "They are but birthday presents to you," he said. "But they are so handsome," I began. His laugh checked me. "Do you mean that you fear I cannot afford to give presents of that kind? Dear child, if I wanted to give you a present of jewelry costing ten times as much I could do it and not miss the money. But I do not ask you to accept Jewelry—only such gifts as 1 might give my own daughter— if I had one." As I looked into liis smiling eyes I knew all my arguments must sound foolish and childish and yet that I ought to protest. But even as I summoned courage to do so I found myself wondering just what the new dress and new cloak were like. (To Be Continued) LIVERPOOL COMMENCEMENT Liverpool, Pa., May 11.—On Sun da yevening the baccaluareate ser mon to the 1917 class of the High School will be delivered by the Rev. Percy Boughey in the United Breth ren church. The commencement ex ercises will be held in the United Brethren church on Wednesday evening. Miss Irene Coffman will deliver the salutatory on "The Spirit of America." Miss Elizabeth Coff man will deliver the valedictory on "A Woman's Part in the War." Dr. C. H. Gordinier, of the Millersville State Normal School, will deliver the address. Prof. John L. Hain, of Marysvllle, is principal of the school. © NAN of ® MUSIC MOUNTAIN By frank 11. Spearmaiv- * Author of \Vhispern\g Smittv, —* .COPJTUWT