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The Giant's
Cradle
Dreams of Romantic
Young Governess
Came True
By CLARISSA MACKIE
20.8.0 8.8.8.0 08 0.8 8 AFLE 8.8 8.0 0 8.0 80 2 8 &
PT TR TERROR
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Mrs. Glenmore hastily kissed her two
children and turned to the pretty go:
erness, who stood demurely besid.
them.
“Take them to drive, Miss Northam
she said pleasantly. “The ponies hav
not been out for a week. Goodb)
chickens.”
“Goodby, mother,” called the chi:
dren in unison, as their parent stepped
into the waiting limousine and was
whirled down the drive and through
the great stone gateway to the road
that led to the railroad station.
“What shall we do, Miss Northam.
dear?’ asked Cherry Glenmore, slip-
ping a fat hand into that of the gov-
erness.
“Mother said to drive the ponies,”
put in Alex, taking possession of Miss
Northam’s other hand.
Polly Northam smiled and sighed in
a breath. She dearly loved the Glen-
more twins, but teaching was so tire.
some when one is young and has only
had a wee taste of the world’s pleas-
ures. Day after day glided by at the
beautiful country home of the Glen-
mores, and Polly Northam saw little
more of the life and gayety that went
on under its roof than if she had been
reading a society novel—for the nurs-
ery and schoolroom were in the west
wing of the rambling old house, and
the twins were being reared in the
simplest manner and seldom came into
the drawing room, save when their
parents were alone.
“Ho, hum!" sighed Polly, wishing
that some adventure might come to her
in this golden October weather. She
‘bad read stories where the heroine was
a beautiful hut humble governess who
was invited to fill a vacant place at the
dinner table, with the result that her
charm and loveliness fascinated the
entire gathering, and the most eligible
man present fell in love with her and
married her.
“ “There were giants in those days,’ ”
smiled Polly to herself as she jogged
through the woodsy roads in the little
basket cart with the twins.
“And fairies, too, Miss Northam!’
added Cherry.
“And fairies nowadays,” deelared
Alex sturdily, as he flicked the ear
thie near pony with his red lashed’
+
) A
wo —
—
“HELO, GIANT!” SHOUTED ALEX SUD-
y DENLY.
Polly smiled indulgéptly upon her lit-
tle charges, biit she wis very thought
ful. It was hard to hold to one’s belief
in fairies when one is left alone in the
world and everything goes awry. It
was terribly dull to be confined to the
company of two little children. If Mrs.
Glenmore would only ask her to come
in and listen to the music sometimes; if
she’ were not made to feel so entirely
out of everything! What was it ber
married sister, Bertha, had said?
“A governess, Polly Northam? You
are treading the straight and narrow
path that leads to spinsterhood?’
“Pooh!” Polly had laughed.
“Miss Northam, dedr, has sighed five
times?” announced Alex suddenly.
“Have you a hurt, Miss Northam,
dear?”
y Polly shook her head.
“Only a loneliness’ sometimes, lad-
@lie,” she said. as she kissed him.
“Come, let us drive te the big oak, and
when we are underneath it we will
eat our sandwiches and I will tell you
the story of the oak fairy.”
After the sandwiches had been con-
sumed and the story of the oak fairy
had been repeated for the third time.
the little black ponies shook their sil-
ver chains and trotted on through the
brown woods.
“Tet us go down to Giant’s Cradle,”
suggested Alex, whose mind was fixed
upon giants and deeds of daring.
So the ponies were turned inte the
shady road that led down to the shore.
where a strange formation of rocks
was called the Giant's Cradle.
The wind was blowing freshly. and
a million little waves danced in the
afternoon sunshine. White sails fleck:
ed the blue waters of the sound, and
the snowy beaches were the whiter be
cause of the dark background of wind
blown cedars.
“Smells good!” sniffed Cherry, ele-
vating her saucy little nose.
“Like the sea. Come, Cherry, let's
race up to the cradle.”
Polly tied the ponies to a tree trunk
and followed slowly in the wake of the
two children, who had started to mount
the rocky pile.
*Coming up. Miss Northam?’ shout-
ed Alex from a safe perch.
“Yes, dears; wait for me.”
But the twins were impatient, and
wher Polly reached the top she found
them staring open mouthed down into
the deep depression of the cradle.
Polly sat down and caught her
breath.
“The giant's here!” whispered Cherry
in an awestruck voice.
“Fast asleep!” added Alex, staring
down curiously.
Polly smiled. The twins were imag-
inative mites.
“Please come, Miss Northam, dear;
he’s waking up.”
Folly humored them. as usual. When
she bent her flower like face, with its
dark blue felt hat, a fitting frame for
her golden hair and blue eyes, she
nearly fell into the cradle, for of a
truth a veritable giant was asleep in
the stone cradle!
A great bronzed creature, with
bronze brown hair growing about a
broad forehead, a handsome nose and a
finely chiseled mouth. He was young
and evidently an artist, for a painter's
kit pillowed his head. He was dressed
in rough gray clothes, and a gray felt
hat was tossed to one corner of his
couch.
While they gazed he moved, yawned
prodigiously. opened one hazel eye at
them, blinked the other one and then
sat up and stared openly at the three
charming faces gazing down at him
from the rim of the cradle.
“Hello, giant!” shouted Alex sud
denly, and with the words Polly sud
denly awoke to the situation and drew
back with the reluctant Cherry.
“Hello, imp!" called back the giau
in a deep. rumbling bass.
“I'm not afraid of you, giant!" chai
. lenged Alex. leaning so far over th.
cradle that he lost his balance and fel
in, with a frightened squeal.
The young man caught him quickly
and presently appeared, bearing Alex
in his strong arms. Alex had one arm
around the stranger's neck, and his
round cheek was pressed affectionately
against the brown hair of the giant.
“Alex, come to me at once.” chided
Polly primly as she stood at the base
of the rocks and watched the careful
descent of Alex and his rescuer.
Cherry whimpered softly.
“What is it. dear?’ asked Polly,
“I want to ride with the giant,” ghe
“Come, fairy!" called the stranger.
And to Polly's surprise Cherry wrench:
ed her hand free and flew to be
mounted upon the giant's other arm.
“Gr-r-r-rr-fe-fi-fo-fum! I'll eat you
both, up!” growled the young man
playfully as he kissed the twins im-
partially, ;
Polly untied the ponies and turned
the cart about. She knew that Mrs.
Glenmore would be much displeased
when she found out that the children
bad been permitted this familiarity
with a stranger. Mrs. Glenmore was
very particular, and, although this
young man looked like a gentleman:
certainly there was no need of his tak-
ing advantage of the children’s inno-
cent friendliness. It was all very un-
conventional and unpleasant.
Polly frowned on the young man.
and he gave her a startled glance in
return.
Her frown melted and a little smile
softened the sternness of her lovely
lips. She had pined for adventure.
Here it was in the shape of a hand-
some young artist, surprised as had
béen the sleeping beauty of the fairy
tales. Why not enjoy its fleeting: pleas:
ure? They would be jogging back
through the lonely woods in a few
minutes, and there would be the dull
nursery tea and the long, lonely even-
ing in her own room, or sitting on an
upper balcony, where she might listen
to the distant strains of music from
thé Fooms bélow. Mrs. Glenmore was
giviig a dance that evening.
“Cone, children, we must go now.
It #8’ growing late,” urged Polly, with
her cheeks’ very pink under the admir®
ing glahcd of the young man.
“N®, no, no?” protested Cherry and
AleX ih d breath, as he would hdve
pif them’ down. “Carry us to the
edge of the wood, giant.”
“If I may,” he replied with a ques-
tioning glance at Polly.
“I think Mrs. Glenmore would pre-
fer that—{ am the governess, and Mrs.
Glenmore wishes them to drive. if you
please,” stammered Polly awkwardly.
“But I love my old giant!’ whimper-
ed Cherry, burying her angel counte-
nance in the neck of the stranger.
“And so do 1” echoed her twin;
tweaking the ear of the giant with
great familiarity.
“Children!” cried Polly feebly, yet
smiling at their enjoyment. .
The puzzled countenance of the
young man suddenly cleared.
“By jove! 1 don’t believe you know
who I am. Now, that’s stupid of me!”
he exclaimed.
Polly was silent.
‘ell her who I am, Cherry Pie!”
commanded the giant.
Cherry gurgled mirthfully.
¢ A ERATE... | ER
” ®It's'my Uncle Dick,” she announced.
“We always call him ‘giant’ because
he's so biz and he niays giant killer
with us.” explained Alex. “He paints
pictures, aid f ther : ays scinetimes he
gets : one) for them.”
“Sowetimes.” laughed i’ick Glen
more; then, noting Polly’s chagrin, he
set the children down hastily and bel¢
out a hand to the little governess.
“Pray pardon my stupidity. Miss—
Thank you, Northam. I forgot that you
did not know who I was. I saw you
the last time 1 was here. I've been
painting along shore today and took »n
nap in the Giant's cradle. May I not
walk beside your carriage?”
Polly gave ready consent, and to the
delight of the twins Mr. Glenmore
tucked his easel and color box insids
the cart with Polly and rode the chil-
dren home on his massive shoulders.
They parted at the front door, and
Polly took her little charges up to the
nursery with a queer feeling of loneli-
ness that was worse than her former
state of homesickness. This loneliness
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POLLY FROWNED AT THE YOUNG MAN
AND HE GAVE HER A STARTLED GLANCE
IN RETURN.
was something definite. It would have
been delightful indeed to have listened
to the pleasunt voice of Dick Glenmore.
to have heard of his many adventures
by sea and land in countries of which
she had only read.
But now the adventure was ended.
practically downtown, all the way to
This was not the day of story books.
The little governess had met the hero.
but that was the end. She would not
be invited to dinner. She would net
see him again.
be dancing down there with a dozen
lifferent pretty girls while she sat up
there in her solitary room. ber little
féét longing to trip over the waxed
floor of the music room. °
Nursery tea was over, and the twins
hed retired’ to bed. still chickling over
the amazement of their beloved Miss
Northam when she discovered that the
giant in the cradle was only their Un
cle Dick.
Polly sat alone in her room when
Mrs, Glenimore tapped lightly at th
door.
“In the dark, niy dear?" asked that
lady kindly. “I want you to come
down and dance with our young
friends, Miss Northam. Dick Glen-
more has been reproaching us for al-
lowing you to mope up here alone
when there are young people in the
housé, but I am so thoughtless. We
won't repeat the mistake. Put on a
pretty frock and come down. Shall I
send Lucille to do your hair?”
“No, thank you.” said Polly. And
when she was alone she skipped joy-
fully to her wardrobe and took down a
pretty pale blue frock that had been
waiting for such an occasion.
“It's like a story book so far, but
that’s all,” smiled Polly to herself.
“I’m not expecting to marry the rich
Mr. Glenmore’s rich brother. but 1
would awfully like to dance with him.
So that’s all I shall ask of the fates
tonight. One can’t be greedy and ex-
pect story book romances in real life.”
But it happened this time that real
life was very much like the most fas-
cinating story book Polly had ever
read, for the adventure became a ro-
mance, and the romance became a
beautiful love story that reached its
climax when Polly married the hero
of the Giant’s cradle and became own
aunt to the delighted twins. The most
agreeable part of it all was that the
Glenmores were delighted with the
match and didn’t in the least object to
Dick marrying the governess.
Can’t Help It.
The Doctor—And the baby is no bet-
ter. Did you get those liftle black pills
I spoke to you about?
Mrs. Newlywed.—Well, you see, the
druggist had some awfully cute pink
ones that just matched the darling’s
new dress for 18 cents. marked down
from 25. so I got those instead. —Ex-
change. .
Why Heé Was Surprised.
“You learn much by travel.”
“How now ?”
“The streets of Boston surprised me.
They are just like the streets of other
cities.”
“Why not?"
“] thought streets in Boston had
Latin names.” — Pittsburgh Post.
~aie
Very likely he would
WAR REFLECTED
IN EWBASSIES
National Spirit Mirrored With
Startling Fidelity.
GERMAN SYSTEM EVIDENT.
French Apparently Pleased With Them-
selves and Their Army—British in-
tensely Concerned With Task Before
Them—Visitor Gets Idea of Irresist-
ible Force and Immovable Object.
Newspaper men assigned to cover
the various Washington embassies of
the warring European nations com-
| ment on the remarkable degree of ac-
curacy with which the national morale
of the countries involved in the big
struggle is reflected by the embassy
staffs.
From the German embassy, which is
the French embassy, far uptown on
the Meridian hill, the national spirit of
each nation is, says the Philadelphia
Record, mirrored with startling and
unconscious fidelity in the actions,
looks, manner and conversation of its
embassy staff.
If you drop in at the British em-
bassy these days you get the impres-
sion that the British mean business in
this war of theirs across the water. A
blue coated attendant meets you at the
door, his manner is that of the well
trained servant, but as soon as he has
led you to a seat in the reception hall |
the spirit of England at war begins to !
appear. f
A clerk or an attache, his hands full .
of papers, bustles past st intervals. His
: face wears an anxious yet determined
expression. He stops to speak to no
one; he is intensely concerned with the
task before him. From somewhere you
hear typewriters clicking, and an open-
ed door gives a glimpse of intense ac-
tion. No one has time for talk. After
a time you will be given an audience.
The man who meets you will an-
swer your questions, but mostly he.an-
swers them with “yes” or “no.” He is
not interested in discussing the situa-
tion. He is interested in getting you
out of his way and getting back to
business. He may seem worried, but
he doesnt give you the impression of
being afraid.
: French Politeness.
Next you ride. up to the French lega-
tion, the big marble palace that over-
looks the city from Meridian hill. The
secretary who meets you is scrupu-
lously polite. He makes no pretense of
answering your question before speak-
{
ing to the ambassador, for M. Jusse- |
rand runs his own embassy. The hall !
boy who unlocks the door as you leave
Ry Geidnt ‘good hamored rexiark about.
the weather, and you pdss out into Six-
teenth street with the confi that
the French are pleased with them
selves and their army.
From there it is not an extra long
trip down to the great gray pile where
the American diplomdtic buSiness of
Russia 18 handléd. There is something
in thé very look of the: building’ itself
which suggests the vast, remote power
of the Muscovite government. There is
something cold and forbidding and far
flung and patient about the looks of the
pldce. It is’ big and it is aristocratic,
haughty and cold. Inside a suave séc-
retary meets you and hears your ques-
tions. His manner is businesslike,
though his answers to your questions
are given guardedly. :
He has a way about him that it is
hard to define. He speaks of the prog-
ress of the Russian arms as he might
speak of the rising of the sun. There
fs a certain inevitability about him
which is startling. Not a word of de-
rogatory comment about the enemies
of Russia; just a settled conviction of
tone and manner which reminds you
of armies crushed and suffocated be-
neath the Muscovite legions which you
gain from his manner are practically
inexhaustible.
German System Evident.
A block or two away is the German
embassy. You enter and encounter an
altogether different atmosphere. You
rarely see any one in the halls; the
place séems deserted, but from behind
closed doors you hear the clatter of
typewriters. Otherwise silence—smooth,
orderly, systematic silence—pervades
everything. Occasionally you see 7
hurrying clerk, but he has not the con-
cerned look of the Englishman.
By and by you are ushered into the
presence of a personage. He is only a
diplomatic secretary, but he is a per-
sonage. He looks af you as an alien
and seems to consider you one of the
fnconsequent things on earth. But—
you may be of help to the fatherland;
therefore for a moment he puts on
the 10 a. m. manners of an American
business man. You feel that he has
Yofs of work ahead of him and that the
gooner you are gone the better he will
be pleased.
The atmosphere of the whole em-
bassy seems to be founded on the con-
viction that Germany must and wil’
win, though they seem to feel that it
$3 a big job. Your questions answered,
you go out and stand on Highland ter-
race for a moment and look up at the
building. Over and about all {s that
strange element of organized, well di-
| rected, statistical German bureaucracy.
When you started on your round you
had the idea that the allies would win
or that Germany would win. After you
Rave visited them all you stop to think
ft over. You think, mayhap, “What
| happens when: an irresistible force
| strikes an immovable object?”
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THE BO
A Member of the
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story of country life.
You will watch with inter-
est the work of plicky Sam
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Yes, he was a scientific
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yond his years.
There are thousands of
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Did he win a prize in the
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READ
THE BOY FARMER
And you twill Kknotw.
The Liberty Statue.
From time immemorial such great
sentiments as liberty, justice, truth
have been spoken of and when put into
verse, statue or painting have been
represented as being feminine. Just
why this should be so there is no tell-
ing, but it is so. It was in obedience
to this custom that ‘*‘Libertp Enlight:
ening the World” stands in the shape
af a woman.—New York Journal.
The Greek Church.
What is known as the Greek church
#5 the church of the old eastern em-
i pire. which prior to the Turkish con-
guest had its metropolis of Constanti-
| nople, whereas the West church had
its capitol at Rome. The first dispute
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