UJPI Re&diivf all ike femly Ij^fpj "When Marries" By AW IJSLE A New, Romantic Serial Dealing With the Absorb ing Problems of a Girl Wife. CHAPTER V (Copyright, 19X8, by King Features Syndicate, Inc.) Sunlight flooded our little chintz hung room. It wavered across my drowsy eyes and woke me. On no othor morning of our honeymoon had I awakened to such a golden glow. I smiled to myself and thought that this day promised to make up for the gloom of last night. I lay for a while between sleep and waking. Finally I man aged to open my eyes and to call tenderly: "Jim." I thought the lova note in my voice might make him forgive me for the night before. There was no answer. "Jim—Jimmio dear—what time is it?" Silence. "I sat up and looked reprach fully over at Jim's little four-poster —its covers were tossed back. It was empty. My heart gave a quick, suffocat ing leap, and then I arose and pat tered slipperless over to the little •white-tiled bath. It was empty. The world seemed empty, also. The fifth day of our life together and my husband had begun the morning without a word to me. He hadn't even run the water for *iy hath! Had Jim hurried out without waiting for me to waken because he was angry with me for what had happened the night before? Or had he gone out with quiet tenderness, leaving me to sleep so late because he guessed that I had lain awake •weeping until dawn. Or—had the gone to her—to Betty Bryce? My fingers shook and trembled as 1 tried to dress. I knotted the laces of my white sport shoes—twice my •blouse fastened itself all wrong and the little bow at my throat hung askew. At last I was ready. I hurried down to the little per gola where we had breakfast each morning on red raspberries, thick cream, coffee and corn muffins—we had always agreed even about break fast: From the inner diningroom I could see Jim out in the little sum mer house. So he hadn't waited for me—he wasn't even at our accustomed tabje. Another step brought me to an op'en window, through which I could see the corner where Jim sat—opposite Betty Bryce. A Secret Overheard I stood for a moment, leaden footed and leaden-hearted. Then I heard my husband's voice: "You must forgive and understand, as you always have. I can't tell her yet. I'm afraid to tell her. You understand —and she doesn't." Then Mrs. Bryce's reply: "Of course I understand, dear boy, and there's nothing to forgive. Ev erything between us is just as it has always been." * * * As I stumbled away from the win dow I fairly crashed into the table ■behind me. For a tense second Jim looked up. Had he heard the rattle of china and 'silver. Had he seen me? I turned and fled. Jim was apol ogizing for his wife! Betty Bryce understood him—was assuring him that everything between them must he as it had been before. What had there been between them? It was al most too cruelly plain! Up to the little room of our love I stumbled and flung myself across my unmade bed. At first the tears wouldn't come, the ache in my heart was so bitterly dry • • • Then sobs shook me, and I gave myself up completely to my grief. I felt as if T could never be happy again. There was no use in fighting—there was nothing now for which to fight. Suddenly I felt a touch on my shoulder—Jim's hand. I shook it off and stumbled to my feet. My dress •was crumpled and my eyes red— Betty Bryce had been lovely in her cool linen. I was at a cruel disad vantage. From panic I felt myself sweep ing to resentment —wild anger—the hatred they say is so near to love— flooded my veins. Jim looked so cool, so well-groomed ii< his uniform, so Every Spoonful Gives the Same Satisfactory Results Only choice stock goes into our coffee; every berry must be sound and wholesome; each lot must receive the same treatment in roasting: each package must be airtight to retain the aroma. We've no reason to adulterate it to secure the proper color. It has flavor and strength—so the last person down to breakfast gets the same delicious coffee as the first. So we ask you to try a pound of both these two good coffees to see which one just suits your taste Golden Roast Coffee . . . 30c lb. [ is a rich-flavored coffee blended from the finest beans from the highlands of Brazil. Fresh roasted daily and packed in .tinfoilfid packages that hold in its tine flavor. Every pound is cup-tested to maintain its good quality. A coffee as good as most 35c coffees. Old Favorite Coffee 25c lb is a mellow, tasty coffee blended from the best beans from Sao Paulo. Fresh roasted daily, and packaged in stout moistureproof bags. Popular with housewives for its fine flavor and economical price. Four cents is saved by not using tin containers. A 30c coffee for 25c a pound. Ask your Grocer for a ' i * . f | pound of both these good > ' ; J Coffees. He has them or -HI H"-II i L ,'ffl R. H. LYON .) Harrisburg, Pa. SJY^. Y i°£. ' " SATURDAY EVENING, Bringing Up Father *-* Copyright, 1918, Intenrational News Service *-* *■* *■* By McManus 1 s ti < -jji 3cSEE ss ™^* a ™® p: [||j':- jjjjjjj adorable. I wanted his love, and it had gone back —where, perhaps, it belonged—to another woman. I fairly pelted my husband with ugly words that seemed to fall about him like hailstones. "I heard what you said—to that woman! I know what she was to you. Even on our she followed you! And you dare wo tell her that she understands you, and I don't! I married you without knowing? Well. I know now!" A Tender Answer Jim stood looking at me for a minute, that seemed to last forever. I waited. Would his voice be sharp and cutting like mine when he re plied Would his words breed hate? Did he scorn me for—listening? His eyes were very grave—black and deep and still. I wanted to reach out and clutch back into silence my ugly, bitter words —sped arrows that had found their mark, and killed his love, perhaps. At last he spoke, and my hus band's voice was grave and earnest and tender. "Anne, little Anne! Tou don't un derstand. She is an old friend—a wonderful woman. I was with her husband when the Huns shot him down. That is a real tie, you know. You didn't respect it last night. But I would never apologize for my wife. I was merely making sure that no woman—not even Atherton Bryce's wife—should misunderstand you." "Jim then you aren't angry?" "Only sorry, little Anne. Only lodging for my wife." "I thought you'd begun to hate me when I woke and found you gone. I thought you had begun to get—tired of me." Jim laughed—a full-throated '■augh. Then he strode across the room and caught me in his arms and set his lips on mine. Nothing was explained, but 1 was happy. Defeated, I felt triumphant—l could still make him tremble with love for me. "Now I'll go make it right, Jim. I'll apologize—l don't mind. I'll tell her I'm sorry for last night." Jim laughed again—there was a command in his voice and there was pleading, too. "Apologize, indeed! I'll not have my sweetheart eating humble pie for Betty Bryce or any other wom an. Tou shan't leave me. Anne. I want you here —here in my arms!" ITHEV TIiLVS \ * th*T erc.AusE \v X^>—WE Ll.T¥|y W 6E ySs I ,D without AJfrj A omfS- y SoITV/-jrW s i' i IN CANNING FRUIt WITHOUT HIMR. CAN THE PRODUCT THE OWn IS PIC.t\EO. ShAMQ w CtAAOtN COFtr4|*%K>trV W*HINTON, P.c X. This is one of the important things to know about canning. The Na tional War Garden Commission of Washington, D. C. t issues a free ! book on canning and drying, which may be had upon application, enclos> ing two cents for postage. THE KAISER AS I KNEW HIM FOR FOURTEEN YEARS By ARTHUR N. DAVIS, D. D. S. I.—"AMERICA MUST BE PUNISHED" PREFACE , For fourteen years the Kaiser was I my patient. All I know of him and all that he told me came to me while the relation of patient and dentist existed between us. For that reason I felt at first that, no matter how vital to the allied cause might be the Information I could give as to the Kaiser's view point, ambition and plans, the re quirements of professional ethics! must seal my lips and compel me to withhold it from the world at large. When, however, I considered the grave crisis that confronts the world and in which my own country is playing so important a part, and realized that what I knew of the Kaiser might prove of some value to civilization, I concluded that my patriotic duty was paramount and rose superior to any of the ordinarj demands of professional ethics. In this conclusion I was strength, ened by the urgent solicitation ol the leaders of my profession who were most emphatic in their con tention that my ethical qualms were entirely unwarranted in view of all the circumstances. ARTHUR N. DAVIS. D.D.S. CHAPTER I "AMERICA MUST BE PUNISHED" When war broke out between thei United "States and Germany, on April '6, 1917, I was in Berlin. I had lived and practiced my profession as a dentist there for fourteen years, and the Kaiser had been one of my patients during all that time. I don't know exactly how many visits the Kaiser paid me profes sionally, but I know I am safe in saying they were not less than one hundred, and the probabilities are they were closer to one hundred and i fifty. Almost invariably, after my work was done, the Kaiser remained anywhere from ten minutes to an hour and a-half to discuss the topics of the hour with me, and in that way j we developed a more intimate ac quaintanceship than might other wise have been possible. When we declared war against Germany, therefore, while I was still an American citizen —as patriotic an American, I believe, as might be found anywhere—l had lived in Ger many so long, had developed so many professional friendships in Ger many's most favored circles and was so generally regarded as a particular favorite of the Kaiser himself, that I tound it hard to realize that never theless I had become an alien-enemy. Even when I was notified by the police authorities that it would be necessary for me to report every day at Police Headquarters and to remain in my home every night from 8 p. m. until 6 a. m., I had no fear for my personal safety or for that of my wife and child, nor did I imagine that I would experience any real difficulty in leaving the country when the time arrived for me to do no. Indeed, when, some two months before, our country had broken oft diplomatic relations with Germany, and Americans were appealing fran tically to our Embassy to get them out of the country, it never occurred to me that there was the slightest occasion for me to hasten my de parture from Germany, although I had long before made up my mind to return home as soon as I could satisfactorily settle my affairs in 1 Europe. The same day the breaking off of diplomatic relations was announced, the German newspapers had publ lished the provisions of an old treaty between Germany and the United States which gave Americans in Ger many and Germans in America nine months after a declaration of war between the two nations within which to settle their affairs and get out of the country. "This treaty," the newspapers pointed out, "was made in the time of Frederick the Great. It has never been repealed. Germany will re spect it." As there were so many more Germans in America than there were Americans in Germany, this prompt announcement of Ger many's intentions regarding this treaty was quite understandable and it seemed most improbable that Ger many would adopt any harsh meas ures towards Americans and thereby invite reprisals. Had the situation been reversed, of course, the Germans would un doubtedly have thought it expedient to Intern Americans no matter what happened to their own countrymen in America, and, in that event, this ancient treaty would have shared the ttata o I that which guaranteed BeW RAHKISBTTRG 85589H TELEGRAPH gium's neutrality. One "scrap of paper" more or less would never have been allowed to interfere with Germany's "destiny." Influential Germans who called to see me professionally during that period almost invariably expressed the hope that I was not planning to leave Berlin. "No matter what happens. Doc tor," they declared —"even if the worst comes to the worst and the war is declared between America and Germany—you may feel quite sure the Kaiser will never let any one harm you!" I had not let the matter rest there, however. I had called at the American Embassy, where it was pointed out to me that, while diplo matic relations had been severed, it was not at all certain that war would result and there was, therefore, no reason for me to leave Berlin pre cipitately. Had the Kaiser been In Berlin at the time, I might, of course, have had an opportunity to put the ques tion to him squarely as to what my fate might be if war were declared, but he was away. The Court Cham berlain had been appointed but a short time before and I did not know him personally, but his predecessor. Count August von Eulenburg, one of the wisest and most respected men in Germany, was one of my oldest patients and I decided to discuss | the situation with him. Unfortunately however, I found him too ill to re ceive me. He was eighty years old and, although unusually well ore served, w&s in no condition on this occasion to receive visitors. Another influential patient of mine whom I sought out at this time was ex-Ambassador von Sturm. Although he was now retired from official life, he had formerly been a powerful figure in German state circles and i still kept more or less in touch with the new Court Chamberlain and others in high office. His nephew was Under Secretary of Foreign Affairs. I found the ex-Ambassador at his private apartment in the Adlon Hotel. "What will happen to Ameri cans," I asked. "If my country de clares war against Germany?*' 'That, Doctor, will depend en tirely upon how America treats our subjects," he replied, somewhat more coldly than I had expected of him. "Ifi America interns Germans, of course, we shall undoubtedly treat Americans the same way, and you could hardly expect any special con sideration. although, if you will write a letter to the Court Cham berlain, who is a personal friend of mine, I shall see that he gets it." "But, Excellenz," 1 replied, there is a treaty between Germany and America, I understand, which gives the subjects or citizens of one country who happen to be sojourn ing in the other when war is de clared nine months within which to close up ttheir affairs and leave Would not that protect me?" course, Doctor," he answered, Germany will respect the treaty If America does, and then there will be no trouble. It seems to me you must await developments and, In the meantime you have no cause for worry." "Suppose seme of your subjects in America should act up and start blowing up bridges or munition fac tories and should he lynched, which they probably would be." I suggested, then r- W ° U Germany's course bo "What Germany would do then Doctor;" he replied, slowly and' thoughtfully, as though such a con tingency had never occurred to him before—"really. Doctor. I don't know what we would do!" This somewhat unsatisfactory in terview with von Sturm might have worried me more, perhaps, had It not been for a visit T received only a day or two later from Prince von Pless one of the Kaiser's closest friends and advisors, who called on me professionally. For a year and a half the Kaiser had had his Great Army Headquarters at the Prince's palace at Pless in Southeastern Ger many, and I knew that he tnjoyed his monarch's confidence. When I asked him regarding the possible internment of Americans! he assured me that. Some what might, I and my family had not the slightest reason for alarm. "No matter what may befall other a n Annfl^^ , fi^ OCtOr ' ' he asßer 'ed, in a confidential manner, "the Kaiser has gone on record to the effect that you and your family are not to be molested." Another incident which made me feel that I could proceed with my preparations for leaving Berlin with- out undue haste was the receipt early in the year of a most extraordinary post-card from the Kaiser which, it occurred to me, was quite signifi cant as to his intentions regarding my welfare. On one side was his picture and on the other, written and signed in English in his own handwriting, was the message: "Dear Doctor Davis: Wishing you a very good year for 1917. William I. R." This was the first message of its kind that I had ever received from the Kaiser. Even in peace times, the picture postals which he had sent to me from time to time and which were autographed by him, were always signed in German. When, on February Ist, the Ger mans resumed their ruthless sub marine warfare —a move which was immediately followed by the break ing off of diplomatic relations—l felt that the Kaiser must have fore seen this consequence and had sent me the postal as an intimation that he wanted me to remain in Berlin nevertheless. When war was declared, therefore, I was thoroughly satisfied that, while I had become an alien-enemy, I was nevertheless a sort of privi leged character and could remain in Berlin with more or less impunity un til I was quite ready to leave. Leav- I ing Berlin was going to entail great personal sacrifice on my part. In my fourteen years' residence In that city I had built up a substantial and lucrative practice of a character that I would never be able to duplicate. Notwithstanding the strained rela tions which had existed between my country and Germany long before the diplomatic break actually came, few of my patients had deserted me! and even when war was declared this situation was not altered a particle Perhaps the fact that the Kaiser himself continued to come to me for treatment restrained others who might otherwise have been disposed to give me up from doing so al though some of my patients did not hesitate to express the opinion that while it was quite all right for them to visit me, it was most unpatriotic for the Kaiser to do so in view of the fact that I was an alien-enemy. While, however, the fact that mv. personal safety was guaranteed, I had been led to believe, by no less a power than that of the Kaiser him self, that there was little cause to hasten my departure from Berlin, and, on the other hand, a flourish ing practice gave me most persua sive reasons for remaining. There were three reasons, however, which impelled me to settle up my affairs and return home just as soon as I could possibly arrange to do so. When the Germans sank the T.usi tania, living and practicing in Ge-- many lost mucn of their attractions for me. I made up my mind then that I would rather return home and commence my professional career all over again, if necessary, than remain in a country which could sanction such a hideous form of warfare—the wanton destruction of women and children. To that end I went to New York in the summer of 1915 to investigate the require ments for the practico of my pro fession in that state. I had an Il linois license, but I wanted to be in a position to practice in New York, and the following year I went to New York again and took the state dental examination. I returned to Germany late in the autumn of 1916 and later , I learned that my certifi cate had been granted. Then X com menced active preparations to dis pose of my German practice and re turn home. My second reason for wanting to I get out of Germany as soon as pos sible was the fact ttfat food condi tions In Germany were becoming more precarious every day. My wife and I feared that our child, who was two years old, might suiTer from lack of proper nourishment if we re mained, and I determined that no matter how long it might be neces sary for me to remain in Berlin, my wife and child at any rate should leave at the earliest possible moment My third reason, however, was by far the most insistent of all. I had become convinced that what I knew of the Kaiser and his plans, now that we were at war, ought to be communicated to America with out delay and that the only way to do that adequately would be to get home as soon as I possibly could, no matter what personal sacrifice might be Involved In abandoning by Euro pean practice and Interests. It is true that in the early years of my relationship with the Kaiser our conversations naturally em braced only the moat generaJ of subjects, but in later yeifrs, when he came to know me better, he cast aside all reservf and talked to me on whatever was uppermost in his mind at the time. After the war started, that, of course, formed the principal subject of our discussions and the part that America was play ing in the conflict was frequently brought up because of the fact that I was an American. Besides the Kaiser, my patients included most of the members of the royal family and the German aristocracy, and through them, too, I came into possession of consider able information which, it seemed to me, might be valuable in helping America to gauge the German point of view. I was not a spy. I had never made the slightest effort to pry into German affairs. Whatever I learned of the Kaiser's views, motives, plans and ambitions was volunteered by the Kaiser himself nor did he ever exact a pledge of confidence from me. It is true that, as a matter of professional discretion, I made it a rule never to relate to anyone any thing that I had heard from the Kaiser because I realized that if it ever get back to him that I was repeating what he had told me, our friendship would not last very long. Undoubtedly, my policy in that re spect was responsible for the wide range of subjects which the Kaiser from time to time felt free to dis • t-ss with me. But now my country was at war with Germany, I had become 'an ulien-enemy in Germany and the Kaiser had become an enemy to America! I could not help feeling that what I knew of this monarch who had arrayed himself against the whole world ought, without question, to be conveyed to those who were guiding the destinies of my country in the great conflict which will decide whether autocracy j or democracy shall control the world. I felt that I knew the Kaiser The Hardest Part I of 1 /Dish Washing ''SglWif i| •FOR ! f %W/ I 1 It's the greasy pots and mr pans that eat up time and spoil ' jjjr hands and tempers. Keep them I mirror-bright with no trouble at all. Sprinkle wjJUttMywjnill) toaWWHI MULETEAM BORAX I in the dish water. It doubles the cleansing power of the water. Cuts the grease and dirt off I without scraping. Best for silver and glass ware. And your hands *° Mute •ii • £ . . Team Borax I will be softer and (mmggm hasonehun . I whiterwhenyoufimsh dred house your dishes than they hold uses. r AUGUST 10, 1918. better perhans than any other living American. Certainly I had come in contact with him more often and more intimately than any other American since the war had started and I doubted whether he had ever unburdened himself as freely to any foreigner as he had to me. One memorable interview I had had with him influenced rne per haps more than any other single factor to hasten the settlement of my European affairs and return home. It was in the fall of 1916. The Kaiser had come to me for pro fessional attention, and after my work was completed he remained to discuss some of the aspects of the war. Perhaps the fact that I had just returned from a visit to Amer ica made him more than usually eager for a chat with me. We had discussed various phases of the war, when the Kaiser changed the subject abruptly with the ques tion: "Davis, what's the matter with your country?" "In what respect, your Majesty?" I asked. "Why is it that your country is so unfair to Germany? Why do you persist Jn supplying munitions and money to the Allies? Why doesn't your President treat the European warring nations the same as he treated Mexico by putting an embargo on munitions and letting ■us fight this thing out ourselves? < You do not ship munitions to lis, : why do you ship them to the other side?" I was on such terms with the Kaiser that I did not hesitate to answer his question with another. "I have always understood, your Majesty, that during the Russian- Japanese war, Germany continually supplied munitions to Russia. Why wa- that any more justifiable than America supply munitions to the Allies? Then again, in the Spanish- American—" "Davis, you surprise me!" the Ksiiser interrupted, rising from the operating chair, in which he had remained, walking towards me, throwing back nis shoulders and ris ing to his full height. "The cases are entirely different. When we helped Russia against Japan we were helping a white race against n. yel low race, don't ever forget that— don't ever forget that. But with America, that is certainly not the case Your country is acting from purely mercenary motives. It is a case of dollars, dollars, dollars!"— and each time he repeated the word he struck his partially helpless left hand violently with his powerful right. "America values dollars more than she values German lives! She thinks it right to shoot down my people." He had worked himself up to a degree oi indignation which I had seen him display only on two or three previous occasions, and I must confess 1 was reluctant to start a fresh outburst by answering his ar guments. His eyes, usually soft and "kindly, flashed Are as he advanced towards me and slowly and in cisively decUred: "Davis. America must be punished for her actions!" In that ,expression, which he re peated on subsequent occasions in precisely the same words and with the same measured emphasis, I knew that he revealed most clearly what his attitude was and will ever be to ward this country. (To Be Continued in Monday's Tele graph.) VISITS SOX IN CAMP i The Rev. Homer Skyles May, pas tor of the Fourth Reformed Church, left on Friday for Columbus, Ohio, where he will spend a few days with his son. Private William H. May, who is in the Medical Department of the service and is located at Columbus Barracks. Private May enlisted early in April. 5
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