I HOMESICK
By HILDA MORRIS.
Christine had oosae to Stillville from
the city to be a substitute teacher in
the township high school. She had
been there only a month, but already
the country air had begun to work
wonders with her pale cheeks and hol
low eyes.
"If only It weren't so lonesome!"
she thought, as she walked a country
road one bright, windy Saturday af
ternoon. But Just then she heard
some one calling.
"Hi there!" a man's voice shouted.
"•Hi there, Miss Gray!"
It was Richard Harding, greeting
her in the local fashion. Christine
stood and waited as he came striding
toward her, a fine, strapping young
wan, clad in farmer's overalls and a
Jlannel shirt.
"Are you taking a walk?" he asked
an he caught up with her. His voice
liad the easy modulations of an edu
cated man. He was a graduate of an
eastern college.
"Yes, I'm going through your ceme
teir It's so quaint! I'm only used
to crowded city cemeteries that reach
for blocks and blocks. Tell me, are all
the people in this town related?"
Richard laughed. "Very nearly. The
Bullits are related to the Emmets and
the Bmmetts to the Hardings and the
Hardings to the Bullits again. We're
all kin somehow."
"All but me," said the girl, laugh
ing a little wistfully. "It must seem
queer to have so many relations."
Richard did not appear to have
tieard her remark. He was looking
ahead at the big square red brick
farmhouse where he lived with his
mother and sister. His mother, a sun
bonnet on her head, was cutting tul
llps from the that bordered the
garden walk. She straightened up as
they approached, and came to the gate.
"Howdy!" she said cordially. "It's
right cool for an April day, Isn't It?
Have you been walking, Miss Gray?
Well, do come in and have a cup of
tea. I made some cinnamon cakes this
morning that must be eaten."
Christine hesitated.
"It isn't five o'clock yet," said Mrs.
Harding, royally sweeping aside the
girl's unspoken objections. Richard
was holding the gate open, so almost
t>efore she knew it Christine found her
self in the big square sitting-room of
'the Harding homestead.
She had not been in a private home
iof this size for years and years, not
!since her childhood days and before
long arid years of furnished rooms.
The house gave her rather an awesome
'lmpression of vastness and elegance,
lit had been solidly built for posterity
by a forebsar from New England. Its
furniture was mid-Victorian.
"Have you always lived in the city?"
Miss Lottie Harding asked in her timid
voice. Miss Lottie was an "old maid"
who spent her years in making endless
yards of tatting.
"Since I was two," said Christine.
"Are your parents living?" pursued
Miss Lottie, to whom family was one's
'most Interesting attribute.
"No," answered Christine. «
This put a somber period on the
conversation, broken only when Mrs.
'Harding brought In the tea.
i In spite of herself the girl presently
began to feel the homelike warmth
lof the place. When she left, stepping
out into the damp spring dusk, It
I seemed as though the chill wind struck
her with redoubled force. She shiv
ered, and hurried back to her dingy
'room In the village hotel.
The next day Christine met Richard
Harding on the corner by the post of'
'floe.
"Can't you take a drive?" he called
eagerly. "My team's Just over yon
der."
The girl perked her pretty head as
though considering.
"Why, perhaps," she conceded, "for
a little while."
Presently they were riding off down
a winding road bordered with dog
wood and the picturesque flowering
Judas tree.
"I'm going home next week," she
announced, as calmly as though her
heart were not beating furiously.
"Home?" he queried.
"Back to the city, where It Isn't so
lonesome. I only came to substitute
for a month, anyway, and I'm not
used to the country. It's too quiet
for me."
"I suppose it is," Richard assented,
letting the reins drop loosely. "I sup
pose you couldn't stand It here. But
I've something to ask you, Christine.
If I should be willing to come to the
city and live your way—give up this
quiet country life —would you marry
; me, Christine?"
"Leave here!" cried the girl Incredu
lous. "Why, Richard, I —l like you
best here. You belong here. Oh, Rich
ard," she breathed. "I was so home
sick! I was going to leave because I
could not stand It to see homes and
fireplaces and mothers all about me."
"Well," he answered joyously, "you
needn't ever be homesick again. You
have me, all right!"
(Copyright, 1917, by the McClure Newspa
per Syndicate.)
D'Annunzio's Real Name.
"iyAnnunzlo" of Italy was once de
nounced as a decadent scribbler of
flowery and fragrant phrases. The
war, however, made him a verile and
statesmanlike patriot. During the
latest fighting on Carso plateau he
has fought hand to hand with his coun
try's enemies. By the way, "Gabriele
d'Annunzio" is a pen name. The au
thor's real name is Gaetano Bapag
lutta.
E THE GALLY FEUD |
By I2OLA FORRESTER.
Bruce Farraday had been away
from home for so long ihat he had ac
tually underestimated the manners
and customs of Halsey Gap.
He had been home from Rudemeir
college about four days. The family
had given him to understand that
they expected all things of him, and
especially that he should run for rep
resentative the next autumn. There
had been a Farraday in the state
legislature from the Gap section ever
since West Virginia had walked her
own path to statehood. Since the
death of Bruce's father fifteen years
before, the Gaily family had con
trolled the seat. Bart Gaily had gone
up for two terms and Wallace had
followed In his footsteps.
He rode down the mountain road to
the little village after mall, loving
every foot of the way. It had been
years since he had walked that road
to school. When he came to the old
familiar crossroads, with Its cairn
of rock supporting an old sign post,
he drew rein. Many a time he had loi
tered there waiting for Nance Gaily to
come along on her way to school.
What had they cared for feuds In
those days! She was six, he bare- i
ly ten. Resting now in his saddle,
while the Captain cropped the sweet
clover and sorrel by the roadside, he
remembered the day of their great
quarrel. He had called her redhead on
the way home from school, because
she had walked with her cousin Wal
lace Instead of him. There had been a
fight and Wallace, a strapping, black
browed youth of fifteen, had beaten
him before her eyes.
The sound of horses' hoofs canter
ing along the old timber road routed
him from reverie. It was Nance. She
rode her sorrel mare like a boy, her
short curls flying in the morning
breeze. As she rode, she was singing
Dixie at the top of her lungs, until she
caught sight of the silent horseman,
and stopped short.
Bruce raised his cap In neighborly
greeting, noting approvingly the vivid
beauty of her young face and spark
ling eyes.
"Good morning, Miss Nance," he
said. "It seems like old times to be
waiting here for you. You're looking
mighty well."
She tossed her head in quick resent
ment
"I reckon you can keep your compli
ments to home, Bruce Farraday. We
ain't askin' anythln' from any of you
la the complimentary line."
She rode on, never looking behind.
It was that afternoon that he gave
Matt Crawford, local boss of the Dem
ocratic caucus, permission to use his
name for nomination at the coming
elections.
"You've got to step lively and look
both ways at once," said Sister Belle,
when the campaign was In full swing.
The next day there was a confer
ence between Bruce and Matt Craw
ford. Briefly Bruce outlined Bis plan
of action. On the Farraday property
there was a large old mica mine, un
worked since the death of his father.
Ever since his arrival he had secretly
been probing its possibilities, and felt
fairly sure of his ground. <
"Matt," he said, "I know a chap with
capital, who went to Rudemeir with
me. He'll back the old mica mines
when I say so. Let's open them now
and hire all the available men. Get
them on one-year contracts, with op
tion of renewal."
Matt grinned appreciatively.
"I think I'm looking at our next rep
resentative," he said.
The mine was a success. Boys and
men from all districts through the val
ley and mountains flocked to work in
stead of remaining idle through the
summer and autumn, waiting for the
Gaily mills to open.
Election day told the story. When
the votes were counted in the little
room back of the post office old Judge
Plnkus stroked his Vandyke happily.
"I reckon you're beaten, Wally," he
remarked through his little glass grat
ing at the stamp window. Nance heard
the words, too, as she stood by the
window. With a muttered oath her
cousin rushed past her out into the
little square where men were cheering
for a Farraday. Blind with fury, he
shot out his fist at Bruce, but fell as
Bruce caught him with a counter blow
on the point of the chin.
Bruce le vd to the old oak stump.
"Fellow-c-i of the Gap, this is
the end of the Gaily feud. Right here
Wallace and I have settled old scores,
and I want to tell you it's time the
Gap joined the march of progress and
buried the feud forever. You shake
hands with me, Gaily; if you don't Til
beat you up until you do, for we're
going to be friends from this day on."
Wonderlngly the Gap beheld the two
shake hands as Bruce left the stump.
A minute more, and he was beside
Nance, where she stood apart from the
others.
"Can I help you on your horse?" he
asked. "I'm going to see you home."
Nance lifted her tear-wet face to his,
capitulation in her eyes.
"I'm mighty glad you won, Bruce,"
was all she said.
(Copyright, 1917, by the McClure Newspa
per Syndicate.)
A Real Hardship.
"Son, I refuse to pay any more of
your poker debts."
"That's rather tough, dad," said the
glided youth.
"My decision Is final."
"But, do you realize, dad, that there
are practically no facilities in this
town for any other games of chance?"
PpDDfWI
M WW I
lJA,&wm<mmm&>
BILLY BEAVER.
"Billy Beaver," said Daddy, "wanted
to build a new home for Mrs. Beaver.
** 'You know, my dear,' Billy Beaver
had said, 'we want to be In the fashion
and move. It's the time of moving—
everyone moves nowadays. To stay
In the same home for a long, long
ttme Is not considered fashionable.'
44 'Dear me, what a smart, up-to-date
beaver you are,' said Mrs. Beaver
proudly.
«• 'Thank you,' replied Billy Beaver.
"'But it's really only In the big
cities where they move so much,' said
Mrs. Beaver. 'l've heard some of the
men talking who were trying to catch
the beaver cousins.'
"'Yes,' said Billy, 'it Is In the big
city, or In any big city I should say,
that folks move all the time. In the
country they have the same dear old
homes for many years.'
"'Well, maybe,' said Mrs. Beaver,
'they have new dear homes in the
cities.'
" 'Maybe,' said Billy. 'But you know
how many of the same people we hear
about us all the time? That is be
cause they don't move.'
" 'But still you think you would like
to?' asked Mrs. Beaver.
" 'Yea.' said Billy Beaver, *1 do be
lieve I would.'
"So Billy Beaver and Mrs. Beaver
had a nice meal of food-wood before
they set to work on their new home.
"Billy Beaver is one of the hardest
working animals there is. An* be set
right to his job.
"First he made use of some nice
country land and a brook. He used
the sticks which were left after he
had eaten the bark of the wood, and
he began to make a dam.
"You know the beavers are famous
for building dams, canals and all
things built with water, land and
sticks.
"Billy made the dam out of some
good mud and he carried It himself to
the spot where he was building, carry
ing It always between his paws and
holding it close to him so as not to
lose It as he swam along.
"Then he worked over the mud,
making It just the height and width he
wanted, and using the sticks too. And
then he made a fine deep brooklet,
which he used as a private driveway
to his new home.
"He made a handsome home and Mrs.
Beaver thought It was beautiful. He
swam around, using Ms tall to help
him go, and asking Mrs. Beaver If she
liked It.
"Of course she had to say over and
over again that she thought It was a
beautiful home and Billy was finally
quite sure she liked it.
" 'I always build the entrance to any
home I make,' said Billy, "under the
p=
"What a Smart Beaver You Are." „
water. It seems so stupid to enter
one's home on dry land.'
" 'That Is the way it has always
seemed to me,' said Mrs. Beaver. 'I
don't believe I could enter my home
in any other manner.'
•• 'I heard such a strange thing the
other day,' said Billy.
"'Do tell me,' said Mrs. Beaver, as
she took a bite of food-wood.
"*1 heard of a beaver in the zoo
who wouldn't work when he was
watched. And they tell me that all
our cousins who live In the zoo are
just the same way. They simply will
not work when they are being watched.
They don't like It It quite annoys
them, and so they do nothing while
visitors are around.'
" 'Do they have many visitors?' asked
Mrs. Beaver.
" 'Yes,' said Billy, 'they have guests
all the time who come to call on them
and who make remarks about them.
The visitors know the beavers are
hard workers and they stand waiting
to see the beavers work.
" 'But the beavers will not work
while people do nothing and just
watch them! They think that Is very
wrong. They do not think folks should
be watching them work —they think
that folks should be home working.'
"'Well, that Is a good joke,' said
Mrs. Beaver. 'So Is the way our
cousins In the zoo behave?'
" 'Yes,' said Billy, 'and they do all
their work at night when no one Is
watching.'
" 'Dear, dear me,' said Mrs. Beaver,
who was very much interested.
"'And the last one I heard of,' said
Billy, 'had pulled down a big tree
in the zoo, by just working at night!'"
■
Hold Up Your Head.
Hold up your head and look the
world In the eye. A hanging head and
a shifty glance speak of self-distrust,
and the world has no confidence In the
one who doubts himself.
PRINCE MAKES CALL|
By LOUISE OLIVER.
After two years or so of vainly try
ing to make Anne think seriously of
their cause, the phalanx of suitors of
her hand had reluctantly dwindled to
two, and the reason of the plural was
that Anne herself did not know which
one she liked the best.
She liked them both as each appealed
to a different side of her with equal
force. There were two sides to Anne
as there are to most American girls—
the dreamy, aesthetic, poetical side
which Is every wofflan's by nature, the
mystic, highly imaginative strain that
Inclines to the superstitious and ex
plains their love of cats; and the
wholesome, hearty, frank, sunny side,
independent and reliant, contemptuous
of the covert, fond of athletics, and —
bulldogs.
It was impossible for her to make
up her mind which of the two men she
cared for most, they were so utterly
unlike. Gerson de Palma, dark and
Spanish looking, although he boasted
of ancestors in every American war,
was the last word in culture.
Jerry Tllford was the name of the
other. He appealed to Anne's Inde
pendent side —the side that liked ath
letics and bulldogs. Moreover Jerry
had a bulldog—a snub-nosed brlndle
nnined Prince —which (Jerry referred
to him as "who") looked villainous but
wept real tears, sat on a chair at the
table, and scared the life out of the
i park babies by kissing them dog-fash
ion whenever he got a chance.
Jerry was rather thickly set up—
his tailor wept over the way his coats
hiked up his back. His fingers were
stubby and short and his eyes were
gray and about as languorous as two
electric headlights. He smoked black
cigars, affected tan shoes, loved soft
hats, and Prince —and Anne.
One day Anne had a headache, a
bad one, the kind where you're afraid
you won't die —the kind where not
only your head aches but every other
Organ too Is crying out against exist
ence. Anne's mother answered two
telephone calls with the news of Anne's
Indisposition, which immediately
brought two notes by special messen
gers. Gerson wrote: "How I long to
soothe your poor tormented brow."
Jerry's envelope was bulkier, having
an enclosure: "You've been eating too
much candy, Annie girl, and it's all my
fault I'm sending you two grains of
calomel —take It in eight doses and
then tell your mother to give you a
tablespoonful of castor oil. I know
what sick headache is, you poor child."
Anne was angry—then took the
medicine and got better. She answered
Jerry's note instead of Gerson'B.
But Gerson got In his inning when
he gave her the cat. It was a beauti
ful creature with long silky fur, a tall
like a fox's brush, and deep blue eyes.
Jerry hated It and Prince hated it —
and Prince had to stay at home now on {
girl nights.
But Jerry had to go away and leave
his fences unguarded—oil wells near
Tulsa claimed him for two weeks, and
he went with trepidation. He stocked
up his lady-love with more flowers and
candy, extracted a promise that she
would answer his letters and departed,
leaving Prince to Sansuki, his Jap, to
be aired, fared and cared for gen
erally.
Sansuki was busy all day so he and
Prince walked at night—and one night
they went past Anne's.
Now Prince was not accustomed to
passing that lawn without turning in,
so In spite of the Jap's whistling he
persisted in making a friendly call and
i trotted up the steps. Then stopping
suddenly he drew back and growled In
ferocious resentment, for there on his
particular straw mat lay the hated cat.
He let out a wild, Indignant b&rk and
plunged madly at his enemy, which
flew, a silver-gray streak, out Into the
darkness and up a poplar tree on the
lawn.
"Prince —oh, Prince come here!"
called Anne. "Bad doggie. Prince,
here Prince."
The bulldog still barked at his In-'
visible enemy, but was now a paeon
of victory. The undesirable one had
fled, and that was all he wanted.
"Prince, come here."
This time he harkened. And remem
bering the mat, now his for the taking,
he catapulted back to the porch, up
the steps and vaulting right Into An
ne's lap, a full 60 pounds of canlnlnlty.
Anne screamed with surprise, and
Prince dropped to the floor. Then De
Palma kicked poor Prince with stun
ning force straight between the eyes.
That decided for Anne in an instant
what had worried her for a year.
And this is the letter Jerry got in
Tulsa:
"Dear Jerry:
"Prince has been sick, but Is con
valescing nicely at my house. I've
given the cat away. I like dogs bet
ter. When are you coming home? It
seems years since you went away. I've
something to tell you."
And whatever It was, Jerry took the
next train.
(Copyright, 1917, by the McClure Newspa
per Syndicate.)
Woman Doctor Rules 4,000.
The woman officer of highest rank
In the British army Is Mrs. A. M.
Chalmers, Watson, M. D., who has
Just been appointed chief controller of
the women's army auxiliary corps,
which has over 4,000 members on
duty behind the lines In France. Mrs.
Watson Is a sister of Sir Eric Geddes,
first lord of the admiralty. She was
j the first woman physician graduated 1
' from Edlnbureh university.
. x .-y> :nY*Jp •»
\"T;*y ' ~
' "
B
■jriwj I ■
11 i»u
Women of Pennsylvania, have you
seen It? —the shadow that dims the
sun.
Listen? The air seems vibrant as
if stirred by distant thunder.
A tempest is upon us —a storm
worse than any America has known,
and ita danger sigaafls are far-flung.
The storm has crept In from Trans
atlantic shores. The air, too, was
surcharged there —made vibrant by
the gun-peals of human hate. Take
heed! There is a warning for you in
these far-flung signals. If you have
not read it, read now.
War—merciless war— has been un
leashed to wreak its fury upon you
and yours.
The extent to which that fury will
ravage America depends very largely
upon the part the women of America
decide to take in the war.
If you and every other woman capa
ble of giving some useful service will
promptly give that service so that
America may strike with crushing ef
fect, then the dread of what the war
will bring need not be aill upon this
■lde of the Atlantic.
Therefore, it remains for you—the
women of Pennsylvania and of the na
tion —to make a momentous decision.
Will you atand back now, auplnely
claiming exemption from unusual ef
fort upon the plea of eex?
Or will you come forward to work
In aome useful capacity that will give
the fighting men of your country the
support they need to win the war?
That is what is being asked of you
and of every other woman of working
age in Pennsylvania. Your decision
will mean much to your state and to
your country. It may mean even more
to you.
Remember: The worst trials that
defeat brings to a conquered people
Invariably are the horrors experienced
by Its women. Keep stricken Belgium
and outraged France before you—then
decide that you will do your utmost
to make defeat Impossible for Ameri
ca.
Every Woman Needed.
If you have any doubt about the
help of every woman being needed now
consider these facts:
One million men in Pennsylvania
alone have been holding themselves
subject to a call to the colors since
Registration day, June 5, last. One
hundred thousand Tecrults —the pick
of the state's manhood —have already
been taken from productive employ
nWnt for army and navy service. Ad
ditional thousands are being drafted
with' machine-like precision. Still
more thousands have been drafted
from ordinary Into war employments.
Every man called leaves another
gap in the army of production. Every
man drawn means, also, that four
new workers must be found to produce
the things that will give him fighting
efficiency.
With industry losing Its workmen
and, on the other hand, being required
to produce a greater output than ever
It Is apparent that new labor sources
must be tapped or disaster may re
sult.
Cause of Trouble.
"Whut makes some of de trouble,"
said Uncle Eben, "Is dat a man's liable
to git mo' neighborly applause foh wln
nln' six bits In a crap game dan foh
earnln' two dollars by workln' de same
amount o' time."
Musical Note.
A London electrician has invented
a safe that is unlocked by a tuning
fork, the vibrations of which cause a
wire within the safe to vibrate in har
mony with them and operate the
mechanism electrically.
Fine Workmanship.
There is in a museum at Salem,
Mass., a cherry stone which contains
one dozen silver spoons. The stone
Itself Is of ordinary size, but the
spoons are so small that their shape
and finish can only be detected by the
microscope. On another cherry stone,
the present whereabouts of which is
not given, are said to nave been carved
124 heads, so distinct that the naked
eye could distinguish those belonging
to popes and kings by their mitres and
crowns.
You women who have never been
required to earn your living—and ,
there are some hundreds of
of you—constitute the most import
ant undeveloped labor reserve In
Pennsylvania. If you will from patri
otic inspiration accept some useful
work, even though you do not need
to earn money, you will help amaz
ingly to solve a labor crisis which,
with the country at war, ranks as a
positive menace.
How to Find Work.
To assist you In finding the job yoe
are willing to fill as a patriotic duty
—to train you for the job If necessary
—a registration of women Is now be
ing conducted under State and Fed
eral supervision. The Pennsylvania
Women's Committee of the Council of
National Defense and the Civilian
Service* Department of the Pennsyl
vania Committee of Public Safety
have it in charge.
It is a registration that Is determ
ining the complete "woman-power" of
the state. It is showing with exact
ness the total number of women,
trained and untrained, of working
age and it it classifying tbem accord
ing to their capacity for work. The
purpose is to inform the government
—the United States Department of
Labor —of how far it may rely upon
women's energy as a productive re
source.
Even the women who are unable to
take regular positions, but who can
accept Work at home are being listed.
The plan has the support of President
Wilson and is commended by Govern
or Brumbaugh, who, by official procla
mation, fixed November 1 and 2 as
special registration days.
In conducting the registration, no
interference with existing labor situ
ations or with useful lndustriee is per
mitted. While workers as well as
non-workers are being listed, trained
workers are not being solicited to
change employers or employment. In
fact, established industries will be
assisted. Part of the plan is to place
new workers at Jobs In their home
sections and thus encourage and
speed up useful, established produc
tion.
Slgnlng-Up la Eaay.
Registration, too, has been made
easy. Every organised group of wo
men in the State is taking namea.
County Committees of Public Safety,
Federated Clubs, Suffrage Associa
tion* and Women's Christian Temper
ance Unions anywhere will sign you
up.
And BOW that you have learned of
the dire need of women's service In
this world crisis, it is for you—the
women of the state —to make your
registration a roll of honor for Penn
sylvania.
With the future of all civilization,
with human liberty itself In imminent
peril the call from the "Front" is for
"workers, more workers, and still
more workers."
Work will win the war.
Let the women of Pennsylvania by
their action* say, "WE WILL NOT
SHIRK-"
To Remove Grease Spota.
To remove grease spots from car
pets, mix fuller's earth and magne
sia together in equal proportions by
scraping and pounding. Form this
into a paste with hot water and spread
on the spots. The next day brush it
off and, if necessary, repeat the proc
ess.
Asphalt
Asphalt, with which so many roads
are paved, was found by accident.
Many years ago, in Switzerland, nat
ural rock asphalt was discovered, and
for more than a century it was used
for the purpose of extracting the rich
stores of bitumen It contained.
The First Requisite.
"When Is their marriage to be sol
emnized?" "As soon as it has been
financed." —Boston Transcript.
The Roman "Penny."
The "denarius," translated "penny, M
in each of the four gospels was the
principal silver coin of the Roman
commonwealth. From the parable of
the laborers In the vineyard it would
seem that a denarius was the ordinary
pay for a day's labor (Math. 20;2-18)w