BIG TIMBER By BERTRAND W. SINCLAIR 6 Co. ■ Continued The night frosts had crept through le single board walls of Stella's >om and made its temperature akin > outdoors when the alarm wakened cr at 6 in the morning. She shlv -ed as she dressed. Katy John was issfully devoid of any responsibility ir sejdcm did Katy rise first to light le kitchen fire. Yet Stella resented ss each day's bleak beginning than e did the enforced necessity of the tuation. The fact that she was (during these things practically ider compulsion was what galled. A cutting wind struck her icily as 10 crossed the few steps of open itween cabin and kitchen. Above ) cloud floated, no harbinger of elting rain. The cold stars twinkled ,er snow blurred forest, struck tiny earns from stump& that were now hlte capped pillars. A night swell om the outside waters beat its elancholy dirge on the frozen ;ach. And, as she always did at lat hushed hour before dawn, she cperieneed a physical shrinking om those grim solitudes in which ieie was nothing warm and human Pennsylvania Health Board Says— that these fall days are when we must fight the loathsome flies hardest. With cooler weather and rain they come indoors, bearing disease germs from the filth of the streets They flit from the garbage can to your dining table, car rying disgusting microbes of disease. Don't give them a chance in your house. Sprinkle the garbage can, sink, toilet, cellar and all places where flies gather with Acmetffi&'Lime KILLS GERMS BLEACHES DESTROYS ODORS Only 15 cents for a large can at ail good grocers and drug gists. Avoid substitutes which may bo stale and worthless. Send for booklet on many uses. A. MK\DI,KSOVS SO.NS 120 Itrondnny, New York City Established 1870 Factory: Albany, N. Y. Our Lighting Service Men have again started out to inspect your Gas Lamps This service is rendered Without Cost to You other than for such material as is needed to put the lamps in perfect working order. This material is put on with your approval at regular retail prices. All Labor Necessary to thoroughly clean and adjust your lamps is FREE. Harrisburg Gas Co. Steelton Harrisburg . Middletown WEDNESDAY EVENING. Bringing Up m'm, Copyright, 1917, International News Service - t '- - t '- By McM FrT I LsT] I I •* not 1 SOMETHING \'LL <0 t>EE O J T thP* -* SAVIN' . rj > them: La, —? cww v ' L) j | iyuRN)N' j and kindly, nothing but vastness of space upon which silence lay like a smothering blanket, in which she, the human atom, was utterly negli gible, a protesting mote in the inex- I orable wilderness. A light burned in the kitchen. She thanked her stars that this bitter cold morning she would not have to build a fire with freezing fingers while her teeth chattered, and she hurried into the warmth heralded by a spark belching stovepipe. But the Siwash girl had not risen to the occasion. Instead Jack Fyfe sat with his feet on the oven door, a cigar in one corner of his mouth. The kettle steamed. Her porridge pot bubbled ready for the meal. "Good morning," he greeted. "Mind my pre-empting your job?" "Xot at all." she answered. "You can have it for keeps if you want." "Aren't you getting pretty sick ot thi.? sort of work, these more or less uncomfortable surroundings and the sort of people you ha\'e to come in contact with?" he asked pointedly. "I am." she returned as bluntly, 1 "but I think that's rather an im -1 pertinent question, Mr. Fyfe." ■j "You hate it," he said positively, j"I know you do. I've seen your feeling many a time. I don't blame ! you. It's, a rotten business with a | girl of ycur tastes and bringing up. ! And I'm afraid you'll find it worse jif this snow stays long. I know | what a logging camp is when work stops and whisky creeps in and the ! boss lets go his hold. "That ntay be true," she returned j I gloomily, "but I don't see why you ! : should enumerate these disagreeable i I things for my benefit." "I'm going to show you a way! 1 out," he said softly. "I've been j thinking It over for quite awhile. I j I want you to marry me." I Stelia gasped. "Mr. Fyfe!" "Listen," he said peremptorily, I [ leaning closer to her and lowering I ■ his voice. "I have an idea that! ! you're going to say you don't love 1 ; me. Lord, I know that. But you | i hate this. It grates against every I inclination of yours like a file on ' steel. I woudn't jar on you like 1 that; wouldn't permit you to live iin surroundings that would. That's j the material side of it. Nobody can live on day dreams. I like you. , Stella Benton, a whole lot more than I'd care to say right out loud. You 1 and I together could make a home we'd be proud of. I want you, and 1 you want to get away from this. It's natural. Marry me and play the game fair and I don't think you'll be sorrv. I'm putting it as baldly as I can. You stand to win everything with nothing to lose but your domes tic chains." The gleam of a smile lit tip his features for a second. "Won't you take a chance?" "No," she declared impulsively. "I won't be a party to any such cold blooded transaction." "You don't seem to understand me," he said soberly. "I don't want to hand out any sentiment, but it ■* makes me sore to see you wasting / fiARRISBURG TELEGRAPH! yourself on this sort of thing. If you hiust do it, why don't you do it for somebody who'll make it worth ■ while? Because we don't marry I with our heads in the fog is no reason v>e shouldn't get on fine. I What are you going to do—stick here at this till you go crazy? You won't get away. You don't realize what a one idea, determined person this brother of yours is. He has just. ono object in life, and he'll use j everything nnd everybody in sight ] to attain that object. He means to suceed, and he will. You're purely ; incidental. But he has that per- j verted, middle class family pride that will make him prevent you from getting out and trying your j own wings. Nature never intended j a woman like you to be a celibate, I j any more than I was so intended, j ! And sooner or late you'll marry j ! somebody if only to hop out of the I lira into the frying pan." j "I hate you," she flashed passion ! ately, "when you talk like that." "No, you don't," he returned quietly. "You hate what I say be- I cause it's the truth, and it's humil iating to be helpless. You think I I don't sabe? But I'm putting a ' weapon into your hand. Let's put it ['differently; leave out the sentiment' ' for a minute. We'll say that I want a housekeeper, preferably an orna mental one, because I like beauti ful things. You want to get away from this drudgery. That's what it is, simple drudgery. You crave lots of things you can't get by yourself, but that you could help me get for you. There's things lacking in your life, and so are there in mine. Why shouldn't we go partners? You think about it." "I don't need to," she answered coolly. "It wouldn't work. You don't appear to have any idea what it means for a woman to give her i self up body and soul to a man she | doesn't care for. ' For me it would |be plain selling myself. I haven't I the least aflection for you. I might j even detest you." "You wouldn't," he said positively. I "What makes you so sure of : that?" she demanded. "It would sound conceited if I told ! you why," he drawled. "Listen. I We're not gods . and goddesses, we | human beings. We're not, after all, in our real impulses, so much dif ! ferent from the age when a man took his club and went after a female that looked good to him. They mated and raised their young and very likely faced on an average fewer problems than arise in modern mar riages supposedly ordained in heaven. You'd have the one big problem j solved —the lack of means to live i decently, which wrecks more homes j than anything else, far more than } lack of love. Affection doesn't thrive |on poverty. What is love?" "I don't know," she answered ab sently, turning over strips of bacon , with the long handled fork. To be Continued Daily Dot Puzzle *.a 9 7 lO ® 5 . : 4 7 *l4 *' ,- 5 2 21 10 , ft 34 • • • ° . *l9 z 7 it * 2 4 32 26 . • 15 28 19 Ilk.* Woodby Hamlet's somewhere around. Trace every line until'* he's found. Draw from one to two and so on to the end. All's Well That Ends Well tz He was determined to do his bit, and so he enlisted. Such a little, stocky, courageous fellow as he was, and he did cobbling for a living. It wasn't the easiest trade in the world, but he had built up his own business, and the same people came week I after week with shoes to be repaired.) He was proud of the fact that he l worked extraordinarily well, too. "Put very thin soles on these, j please," or "Can you fix the toes! without putting on new soles ?" j were everyday occuranccs with him.i He liked to feci that what he made I was his own. It was pleasant to; reflect that the quarters and tliei dimes were what he made by good, j honest endeavor, and he gave thej best he had to his customers. But) when the country called him he was #ready to close up his little' shop and leave everything. The day he marched into the pres- J ence of the examining doctor was i the proudest day of his life. He! was going to fight for his country, j and his country was for him the! big piece of land under the Stars and Stripes. Beautiful Italy, where he was born, was like a dream that lingered in his memory, a childhood's memory, and nothing more. . He was quite confident that he would be taken, and he smiled all over his f\ark, swarthy face as the doctor examined hiln thoroughly. Finally the doctor shook his head. "Flat feet," he commented. Toney did not quite understand this, but his contagious smile was dimmed a little. Could it mean that they weren't going to take him? "You can't pass," the doctor told him, but the words were kindly. Tony's entire expression was one of utter disappointment. "Let's see, you're a shoemaker, aren't you?" The doctor said, "Too bad. You want to go pretty badly, don't you?" i "Sure," Toney agreed. "I mend | shoes, mend soles fine, I go to war, | I fight." The doctor shook his head. "Flat feet," he said again, and Tony looked down at his feet won deringly. He had never had any trouble with his feet. He could walk well, then he could fight well. It was all very.hard tp understand. "If you were only a baker or a cook, we could manage it," the doc tor ruminated. "But I can't let you get by, I'm sorry." Tony thought about what the doc tor had said in the next few days. He had asked a friend to explain to him, and he knew now that the long tramps would be too piuch for his feet. That although he was all right where ho was, he couldn't stand the long hikes, but if he could go as a baker for the men, or cook, the doctor might be able to pass him. Tony laughed when he finally un dersetood. If that was all, it was simple enough. The one thing he was determined to do was to go, and if he could go as a baker, then a baker he would be Toney sold his little shoe repair ing establishment with hardly a qualm. It might have hurt him to part with it, If so much hadn't been