Montour American. (Danville, Pa.) 1866-1920, July 15, 1909, Image 3

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    THE TRUE HEIR.
How the 0!d Mansion Was Turned
Into a Real Home.
By ALICE VAN ZAARN.
tCopyright, 1909. by Associated Literary
i J ress.J
The old liouse, with its coat of fresh
paint, gleamed among its magnificent
elms in the bright August sunshine. In
the upstairs front room l'riscilla stood
before the mirror giving a last critical
look at herself. I lor hair was done
high on her head in a style of bygone
days, and an ancient shell comb was
at tl)e back. Her dress was a gorgeous
brocaded silk which had beiifc-cd to
her great-great-grandiuother. li had
never been altered, and it fitted her
tall, straight figure to perfection.
"There," slie said, "I guess that will
do! Now 1 will sit down and wait till
they come."
She went over to one of the west
■windows and sat where she could look
down the road. Her face was alight
with joy. This was the happiest day
of her life, li was what she had look
ed forward to and worked for.
As she sat waiting for her expected
guests her mind traveled back over
the years that had led up to this day,
which seemed to her to bo tlio fulfill
ment of all her hopes.
She remembered how when slio was
a little girl and lived with her grand
mother In the house she could see from
where she sat she had looked with awe
upon the mansion which stood on the
bill, and all the stories she cared to
hear must be about the eld bouse.
Her grandmother could tell her many
stories of the old place, of the young
people who had lived there and mad?
it gay with their happy voices, of tlu
noted general who courted and mar
ried his fair bride there and of the sad
times that came when the young peo
ple all went away and the old folks
grew feeble and died and the old bouse
fell into alien bands.
Priscilla remembered how she teased
and teased till her grandmother took
her to see the man and his wife who
lived as caretakers in three or four
rooms In the ell. After that she used
to slip away to see them, and they got i
to be fond of her and let her roam I
over the house at will.
When she got to be eighteen she de- >
termined to earn money enough to buy !
the old house and restore It. The own- '
er took 110 care of it, and it was going I
to destruction. It seemed such a bad j
thing to Prlscllla to see the blinds j
sagging, the shingles and clapboards
coming off and the chimneys los- 1
ing bricks i 1 every high wind. She j
"IT ALT, SKKSIS SO FCTILBi" SHE CKIBD.
would buy it and save it from ruin, j
and it would stand there In all Its old
time dignity, a valuable historic land- i
mark.
She told no one of her plan, but set
about deciding on her work. She had
always Intended being a nurse, and
this work would servo her purpose as
well as any.
So by the time she was twenty-one
she had finished her course at the I
training school, had taken her first!
case and deposited her first money In J
the bank toward buying the old place. '
Then came a disappointment. The j
great-aunt for whom she was named j
sent for her to come and take care of j
her. l'riscilla rebelled inwardly, for
the old woman was crossgrained and j
miserly and grudged her the food she]
atp. l»u! Priscilla knew that it was
her last sickness, and she could not \
find It in her heart to leave her alone
In lur misery.
For two long years, therefore, sli •
devoted herself to her kinswoman and
gave her 11s good cure as if she had
been a wealthy, paying patient. And
the aunt's disposl;lon softened wonder
fully at tie List, and Priscilla confide I
her > cret about the old house to her
Aft-r her death there was a great
surprise for Prisi ilia. Her aunt li.id
left all her property to her. There
was more than any one had suspected
and the will expressed the old lady's;
wish that Priscilla should use the I
money to buy and repair the old place ]
on the hill.
After the place was actually bought'
ihere was much to be done. Carpen
ters and masons and paiuters were
i:opt at work for weeks. The yard
was made tidy, and after that the in
side of the house was cleaned and r.' .
paired.
It was in .Tune that everything was
done and Priscilla had moved her;
»uut s 01a tasnionea lurmture into tne
house. The old couple who had lived
in the ell still stayed, and the woman
was Priscilla's housekeeper.
Then Priscilla found that her legacy
was greatly reduced and that sho must I
goto work. So she went to nursing 1
again with a light heart.
And now it was old home week, and'
ns one feature of the occasion she had
thrown open her house and was to
read a paper to the guests telling some
of the most interesting stories about j
the place. She bad furnished the
rooms as nearly as possible like what
they hnd been when the family lived
there. Th"re was not a modern Diece
| of furniture in the whole house, and
I she had even been able to procure
some of the very articles that had
once furnished it.
At last she saw her guests coming.
She colored as she recognized one fig
ure among the others, lie was the
only one of the old family name who
had taken the least interest in the old
place. To be sure, he was merely the
great-grandson of the last of the fam
ily to live there, and he had never seen
it til! this week. But he had taken an
intense Interest in what Priscilla had
done, and somehow she had seen a
good deal of him during the week.
Priscilla's heart beat high as she
went slowly down the old staircase to
meet her guests.
Richard look'd uncertainly about the j
dim old room. In a moment his eyes
became accustomed to the darkness,
find he went cjnickly over to where
Priscilla crouched sobbing 011 th.
floor. Cor old brocaded gown lay in
1- Ms about her, and the arm on which
lior.head was bowed rested 011 the old
I chair by the fireplace.
"What has happened?" cried Rich-!
nrd in alarm. lie lifted her gently t"
her feet, and for a moment she rested
heavily against Ids shoulder. Then
she drew away and sank into her
chair.
"I am very sorry you found me this
way," she said tremulously. "I—l
thought you were gone and that 1
was all alone."
"Wait a minute," said the younc
man. with practical thought fulness,
"till we have some light, and then you
must tell me what troubles you."
Priscilla silent. She could hear
the low murmur of voices i'i tlie next
room, where the housekeeper and bor
husband were. Richard lighted the
candles 011 the high mantel and one
011 the table; then he drew his chair
nearer and sat down fi< itig Priscilla.
They were two striking figures in
the dim setting of the old room. Both
were very good to look upon, she it;
her gown of a century ago. he In mod
ern dress.
"I suppose it is foolish," she said,
"and hysterical and all that, but I
couldn't li. p It. I v.-.s so happy this
afternoon, and this is the reason."
"But what is it';'' he asked, looking
perplexed.
"It all seems so futile!" she cried
j "You know how I have worked and.
i planned to restore this house to what
it was, but it is no use. It was a
home, but Ir is not now, and I cannot
| make it a home. Besides that, it Poems.
| now that I have done all I could, that
I I was pr-'-uaiptuous to undertake it.
I Kvery one seems to think I have done
! great things, but what right hid I?
Oh," she cried passionately, "why
I couldn't you have doue it? You are
one of the family!"
"Priscilla." he said, and she gave a
j little start and looked at him with
| dilated eyes.
"I understand how you feel, and I
I' wish I had done it. but there is a bet
tor way—a way in which you can make
it a home and even bear the old farn*
I ily name." His face was very serious,
| and he looked at her with searching
I earnestness.
He rose to his feet and held out his
arms. "Don't you understand, l'ris
cilla?" he s.ild In a thrilling voice.
And Priscilla understood and smiled
fit him through happy tears.
MISTAKES IN TITLES.
"Love's Discourses" Has Nothing to
Do With Cupid's Pranks.
it is interesting to collect certain of
the instances of mistakes in regard to
the titles of hooks. Thus the old farm
er who asked for "Edgwortli on Irish
Bulls" got no doubt something he did
not expect, and the dainty youtli who
applied for "I.ove's Discourses" did
not really wish a volume of sermons
by Christopher I.ove. If application is
made by messenger, mistakes of a dif
ferent sort may occur. An excitable
boy once asked for Bishop Cocks and
Hen's "Earnest Communicant;" he
I meant Bishop Oxenden's. Similarly by
Warne's "Moral Cookery" he meant
j his "Model Cookery." A maid forgot
i all about the title of the book she had
j been sent for except that it wa>
"something like tomato soup." She
was served with "Bed Pottage."
It may have been a fault of pronun
ciation on the part of the purchaser
who asked for "rubber bands" that he
received a copy of "Robert Burns," but
it was certainly the bookseller who
I was at sea who referred an applicant
for "Vega's I.ogarithmic Tables" to the
I "funlture department." In cataloguing
j booksellers frequently err. Thus Mr
: Madan, the Oxford scholar, who wrott
! a grammar and dictionary of the Swa
[ heli language, had those works cata
! logued as "Madam Swahell's Gram
j mar" and in the line beneath, "Do. do.
| Dictionary." Recently, too, a book of
Mr. I.ueas", "A Swan and ITer
Friends," giving an account of Miss
Seward, "the swan of Lichfield," was
j classified as "Annie Swan and Her
Friends."—Manchester < Juardian.
That Settled It.
Tiie commissioners in lunacy were
nonplused. The man on whose mental
com!if ion the courts had appointed
them to pass seemed perfectly sane it
spite of all testimony to the contrary
Hi* 1 action, his every remark
was rit! • I. They were about to givt
up in (I -pair when matters took an
unexpe, . •! turn. "Oh, doctor, permit
me to re:urn the umbrella I borrowed
; from you last week," said the patient.
| And then, at the thought of earning
their fees with no qualms of cc n
science, the learned men decided that
any one who would voluntarily return
a borrowed umbrella should be placed
under restraint
. This simply proves how trifles will
[ ever mold our destiuies. —New York
' Times.
He Followed Directions.
[ Red tape leads one to curious
| lengths. A writer iu the Columbus
! Dispatch tells of a street railway car
! that picked up a young heifer on its.
I fender and carried it some distance
I through the street.
j In making out the required report to
the superintendent the employee wrote
in answer to the query on the blank
form, "What did the victim say?"
"She was carried along on the fender
j and then rolled off and ran r.way
without saying a word."
Life is a little gleam of time between
two eternities. -Carlyle.
HER BUHNER
MUSHROOMS,
In the Train of the Disaster Came
Happiness.
By ANITA CARR.
[Copyrighted, 1909, by Associated Literary
Press. ]
Flighty—that was what tho nice,
motherly old ladies of Hillside called
Carrie Danielson. Now, if a person
happens to be very tail and correspond
ingly broad and wears No. (i shoes no
body ever applies that adjective to
her. If you are flighty it stands to
reason you are small and fluffy an i
never quiet.
That had been Carrie's description
through her girlhood and early married
life. She was a pretty little thing, but
with strength enough of character in
her face in spite of her tilted nose
and small, red mouth and curved
cheek had any one stopped to consider
those attractions as modified by the
resolute chin and angle of the head.
She loved the gayetles of life and
the sunshine. Happiness surrounded
her as an aureole, and sho ran from
trouble, to the displeasure of her crit
ics who fastened the adjective upon
her.
She and Tom were happy those three
years before the railway accident that
"I—l HAVEN I TIME TO HE HAPPY."
ended his life and for a time crippled
her.
, j 1 till side never hid liked Carrie Dan-
I ielson so well ns during th >so months
when it could trout her as helpless and
j nurse and command her. She was in
' their ha:' Is, and her neighbors rioted
I in the placid joy of doing good unto
j one who had never seemed to yearn
I for their counsel or advice. They had
planned it all out in those first sad
1 days after the accident what Car
-1 rie s'aoiil 1 i'o after she had fully re
-1 ■ covered.
"Of course she will sell this ooi
! tage." Mrs Barnes said during one of
; the long night watches "They'd Just
| got it 1 aid for too! She can go li k
to her folks. It's too b: I they moved
1 away when they did!"
I "Yes," agreed Mrs. Croft, "she'll
j have t.. Torn didn't leave her any
-1 thing besides Hie cottage. Sh • can't
; live on air. and she's not the go-nhead
| sort who can do tilings for themselves
j Carrie's always boon so flighty."
1 When t'.irrle Danielson finally got
. | well and was able togo about as
; usual, very pale and quiet In her Mack
clothes and different from the gay ai 1
j laughing girl they had always known.
Hillside was disgruntled and shocked
\ by the upset 1 ing of all Its plans 112 ir
t her.
"No," she told the man who wanted
to buy her cottage: "I'm gol ■; to keen
it and stay right here, it Is home to
me. Ir Is not for sale."
Mrs Barnes went over at once when
the Hows Toadied her. "Carrie," *!■ •
began abruptly, "how are you going
to do it? What are you going to live
on?"
There was a faint gleam of tho old
j humorous smile on Carrie's lips ns sho
surveyed her inquisitor's grimly disap
I proving face. "I'm going to grow
j mushrooms," she announced, "and
! ship them to Now York."
! Perhaps had it been any other com
! modity than inush' - onis Hillside would
j not haves 'oih. d with disapproval as
it did Mushrooms to them were oh
j joots of st; ;.li ion, classed with wo V 1
I and othi obnoxious products of 11a
• ture, without which the human race
t could get along famously.
I That th to were enough persons in
the v, -M \ !n> y- ir :cd r.r mushrooms
1 to give C i.-ri.> a living Income seemed
highly improbable, but all the protests
: were met I" her with facts, fi 'itres
j and method 112 r she had studied the
subject th r uglily before deciding to
| go Into it.
The determination with which r.t-e
j clung tu hr project was another maf
tor for surprise. No one had drear.u d
she had «u ii persistence In her. And
the mushroom sheds were built aid
the beds made, and Carrie started in
l business
The first check Carrie received from
' the big New York hotel she cried over
j before half the women of the town had
gazed up- 11 It with their own eyes and
j had soon money really was forthcom
| ing for the queer creamy white fungi
| that had been so carefully packed in
! baskets and put on the train by their
1 grower's own hands.
• j It was not such a large check, but
it was something, and she had earned
it. From then on Hillside had to ad
! niit „that possibly Carrie had more
• | brains than had been Imagined. Still,
j they could not at once abandon the
| oversight they kept upon her.
! "She will never outgrow her flightl
! ness." Mrs. Barnes said one day."l
met her downtown in this cold, raw
j wind with 110 fur around her neck and
j Just a lace blouse over her throat.
11 Carrie needs some one to look after
1 her "
"Oh, she'll marry again," said Mr-
Croft comfortably. "She's too prett*
not to. And there's no sense In bos-
I living alone in that little cottage and
| growing those toadstools—well, the ,
j look just the same, anyway—all tin- I
rest of her life!
I White would he pretty attentive t>> j
I her if she'd let him, and he's u fine !
man."
Yet, when Dr. White soon after
I asked Carrie to marry him she shook
| her head with a faint 111 tie smile and
refused him. "It Isn't that I don't ap
preciate you." she said, with an in
| stinct to soften her refusal, "but. you
' see, I'm so busy here. I—l haven't
time to be happy."
Yet there was a pans of regret in
her heart as she watched his tall flg
-1 ure down the hill, for their cheer fr
1 comradeship had brightened her days.
lie h ''l brought her books and par.i
phlets on her work, had advised and
j sympathized, and she knew she would
[ miss his brief but almost dally calls.
Hut love, she told herself, she was
done with. Time had, softened her
' sorrow, but for her she thought the
ordinary happy life of a woman was
1 over and finished.
Dr. White after a time bravely tried
> 1o renew their former unsentimental
oomnd.'ship. but that, too. seemed do
I stroyed and the attempt a farce.
I"I ' in't do it, Carrie." he broke out
i hoarsely one day."l love you, and I
- can't pretend not to! I'm going away,
i i Oh. Europe—Japan—anywhere to get
away!"
» And he went, oi'd the days drag -'ri
ton. each one opening a little wider the
eyes of the woman in the snial' cot
tage as to what really was in her
heart. P.ttt bravery was a part of Car
rie Danlelsm's v ry n iture, and nobody
; guessed.
"I guess Carrie didn't give a rap be
cause Dr. White went to Europe,"
Mrs. Barnes said to Mrs Croft. ' She's
just as smiling and bright as i • r!"
"She's getting kind of peakiil look
■ ing, seems to mo," commented Mrs
Croft shrewdly.
It was an overturned lamp that
brought dK tster to Carrie. Amid the
frantic strug-les and shouts of the In
efficient If!!!.-ld' tire department her
cottage and mushroom sheds I urned
to the ground
Site took it very resignedly when it
happened, but the next day, wander
| ing alone around the l>la< kened pile,
her nerves pave way.
She was crying qul'tly, sitting on
the charred remnants of a I when
Dr White found her. lie had come
straight to her from the train. Per
is he took courage from her very
forlomness and discouragement, s>
diiTerent from her usual bright self
reliance.
"I'm glad it happened!" he said ct:
phatically. "Glad because now mayb"
! you'll have time to think of me a lit
tle bit!"
! "I—l've thought of you a lot," Carri •
, ' Danieison admitted as she dabbed h "
eyes and made Instinctive passes at
her tumbled hair. It was good t<> see
him again,
j I>r White deliberately sat down on
the blackened box and reached for her
i hand. "Now we'll talk it over!" he
\ I said.
One For the Minister.
1 i An old minister in the south side of
i Glasgow who was noted for his habit
of dishing up old sermons again and
ngain was one day advertised to
preach In a suburban church at the
anniversary service there. An old wo
f ! man who in days gone by had sat un
t der his mi: istry, but who had now re
k moved from his neighborhood, deter
-1 mined togo in and hear him preach
on this particular occasion. After the
1 close of the service she waited on the
clergyman, who greeted her cordially
t and asked what she thought of bis dls
i course. "Eh. man," she replied can
didly, "it's a lang time sin' I first
heard ye preach that yln, sir, and I've
t heard ye at it a gitid wheen o' times
s j sin' syne."
"Aye, Janet," said the minister.
1 "llow often do ye think ye've heard it,
na?" "oh, about a rilzzen o' times,
i sir," she replied "An" div ye mind it
a'?" said the minister. "Aweel, maybe
no* It a', sir." "Weel, I see I'll need to
i preach it to ye again, Janet," said the
minister, and Janet (elt that she had
• been sold for once
Settled a Great Question.
When Thomas II Benton was In the
- house he was of the opinion that the
3d day of March and consequently the
1 congressional term ended at midnight
! of that day Instead of at noon on the
• ' 4tli, as unbroken usage had fixed it.
So on the last morning he sat with his
hat on, talked loudly, loafed about the
I floor and finally refused to vote or
answer to his name when the roll
was called. At last the s|ieaker, the
1 Hon. Janus 1,. Orr of South Carolina,
picked him up and put an end to these
legislative larks.
; "X i, sir: no. sir; no, sir!" shouted
♦he venerable Mlssourian. "I will not
vote. 1 have no right to vote. This is
no house, and I am not n member of
i it."
; "Then, sir," said Speaker Orr like a
I flash, with his sweetest manner, "if
the gentleman is not a member of this
house the sergeant at. arms will please
■ put'-him out."
i i And so this vast constitutional ques
tion settled itself. Argonaut.
Handy With an Ax.
! i One Important feature In connection
trtt h the conducting of mining oi«>rn
I tlons in Sjboriu is the aptitude of the
1 Kussian workman for the as. Wood Is
so plentiful in the country that mln
1 ; Ing timbers may be figured on at s
' ! low rate. The current anecdote that a
: Russian workman will for a twenty
! kopeck piece lay his left hand, with
fingers spread, on a board and with
1 full strength make an as cut between
each finger cannot be vouched for, but
: It is certainly truo that In pick timber
I Ing in bad ground, In erecting build
t ings. log cabins and all manner of
i wood Joining the equal of the Russian
I>easant cannot be found. London
> ! Globe.
■ : No one deserves to be praised for
i goodness unless he has strength to be
bad. All other goodness Is most often
[ ! only sloth or weakness of will. —La
! Rochefoucauld,
t " '
It Is better to lend than to give. To
. 1 give employment is better than either
I —Talmud
PILGRIM MEMORIAL.
Erection of Giant Cross at Marsh
field Hills, Mass., Proposed.
GREATEST OF MONUMENTS.
Striking Feature Suggested For Cele
bration of Three Hundredth Anni
versary of Landing of the Pilgrims.
Grand Electric Display and Search
light Planned.
A "'historical aud moral celebra*
j tlon" of the three hundredth anniver
i sary of the landing of the pilgrims is
proposed for 1020 by Alvlu A. Vinal,
who is a descendant of the pilgrims,
j a member of the Pilgrim society and a
I former member of the Society of May
j flower Descendants. In plans which
he bus prepared for the event Mr. VI
! Qui suggests the heights of Marsfifleld
| ailis, Massachusetts, where he Is a
i resident, for the celebration, which he
| thinks would be good for Boston as
| well as Plymouth, since it would at
j tract visitors from all over the world,
i "Trinity bills," he says, "are the high
est land In Plymouth county, overlook-
I ing all the pilgrim land and bay from
I Cape Cod to Boston. Miles out at sea
I and Inland the exposition buildings
j would show to enticing advantage,
I especially to shipping passing in aud
j out of Boston. An electrical display is
one of the great charms of modern ex
] positions, and buildings on these great
elevations in oue blaze of glory ut
night would be one of the greatest
sights ever witnessed. On the bay it
self the navies of the world could meet
and view the whole exhibition. Here
are great springs, guaranteeing the
purest water supply, with ample river
power for the electric display and
power for the exposition. Two great
lakes can easily be made, anil there
are wooded groves for park purposes.
"Among other features in commemo
ration of this great anniversary cele
bration I propose a great monumental
permanent cross of stone and steel, the
tallest In the world, to stand for ail
time and be the great feature of the
exhibition. From the top and arms
will be the grand lookout over the pil
grim land and water of Massachusetts
bay, to which the people will come for
all time. The cross will be one blaze
of electricity, making at night the
most sublime display ever witnessed.
When surmounted by the largest
searchlight its beauty and meaning
would be impressed forever on passen
gers on the foreign steamships passing
to and from Boston."
The grounds of the exhibition are to
be laid out in the form of a cross. Mr.
Vinal also suggests the erection on one
of the hills by the churches of the
world of a permanent church of stone
containing the largest meeting room In
the world to be devoted to ' historical
meetings and addresses by the great
revivalists, preachers and lecturers of
the world," with "great chime bells
pealing from its tower the anthems of
the pilgrims. A great while stone
the only oue of Its kind known, typicn'
of the event, should be the pulpit on
which will rest the baptismal basin, t.
be the baptismal tank, for here thou
sands will desire to be baptize 1 lute
the larger life.
"On another hill will bo the greatest
wireles- station and a water t >wei
supplying tin- exhibiti 'ii. <»: i th • pla
teau will ri-e the great hotel and roo:
garden built by gifts from the hotel.-
of the world, the Puritan building do
nated by New England families ant]
containing their exhibits, a great r. 11
glous museum contributed to by al
the wjirld i.ud built by the c.muty o:
Plymouth, a great electrical plant bull;
so as to make a great lake, damming
North river and giving great watei
power such as such an exhibition wll
\ require. On the lake will be enacted
'daily the parting, sailing aud landing
of the pilgrims In a ship representing
the Mayflower."
It is proposed by Mr. Vinal t I the:
cross, t i cost $1,000,000 or t:; re. Ac
cording to the response, be built by
contributions of $5 each from the
churches of the world, a s< uvenlr gold
cross being issued to each contribu
tor. To ministers a cross with a dia
mond In the center at ¥25 each will b<
Issued. For contributions to the ex
penses of the exhibition he suggests
"the golden book of honor, a greal
subscription book, in which the name*
of givers of $ 1,000 or more will be re
corded ; the five million book, it
which the names of all giving $5 will
be recorded, each to receive a passable
dollar coined by the government as its
gift to the exhibition; the golden roll,
a framed roll recording the gifts ot
those who give SIOO,OOO to the exliibt
tlon." An admission fee of 23 cents
will be charged to enter the cross.
A great religious pilgrim revival t<
culminate In the celebration of 1920 is
finally suggested by Mr. Vinal. "Lei
the committees •.f the ministers of al
denominations," he says, "inaugurate
the continuance of the present revival
and the 1015 movement into a great
revival and let all pastors everywhere
urge their congregations to become
members of the church and possessors
of the little crosses of gold which nr<
to be Issued only to church member
who aid by their purchase the build
Ing of the memorial anniversary cross
the greatest monument ever erected It
the world. Let all Christians wea.
these badges as acknowledgment ol
the alliance that the power of Chris
tian lives may be carried everywher
and upheld openly."
Finally Mr. Vinal suggests the 112 r
mation of a committee of a hundrei
representative citizens to meet for ar
rangemeut of the details at the Plym
outh Memorial church nt Boston in the
week beginning July 4 e>r Sept. 1(1.-
Boston Herald.
Not Encouraging.
A pastor in a rural church not fai
from Milwaukee announced the wed
ding In his church during the follow
Ing week of two of Ills parishioners.
He followed the announcement with
the title of the h.vnm which was then
to be sung. It was "Mistaken Souls
That Dream e>f Heaven!"— Milwaukee
Free Press.
Every man who rises to any profes
sion must tread a path moro or lea
bedewed by the tears of those! hi
pusses on his way.—Bayne.
THE AUBURN
HAIRED GIRL,
A Courtship That Began Under
Peculiar Circumstances.
By ANITA W. EDGERLEY.
(Copyright, 130 D. l>y Associated literary
Press.]
Half si mile north of the Stevens
farmhouse, whore Miss Irene Kings
land, from the city, was visiting lie:'
aunt and uncle, was the byroad lend
ing to what was called the glen. There
was a glen with a cascade, and it \\a
rather a wild and rocky sj>>t.
It was a quarter of a mile from the
main road, and on this byroad lived
a widow with an auburn haired daugh
ter sixteen years old.
After Miss Irene had been at the
farmhouse fur a week and had bee-one
familiar with the tight of cblek
ens, geese and an old rooster blind ::i
one eye she was told about the glen
and was anxious to see it. The road
was plain before her. Take the lirst
turn to the right and she was there.
She was told about the byroad, but
not a"bout the auburn haired girl. In
this world there are always s- inn l
things left out to make us trouble at
a future date.
The young lady of nineteen started
out bravely, and her spirits were u/i
--rutlled until she turned into the by
road. There she came across the au
burn haired tiirl sitting on a log by the
roadside. The proper way would have
been for her to stop and ask a ques
tion or two about the glen and thus
open up a pleasant conversation.
Unfortunately she took another way.
She held herself stltlly erect and passed
on. The auburn haired girl, who was
almost as pretty as Miss Irene, fol
lowed her. Miss Irene heard her foot
steps, but would not look back. Au
burn hair coughed and began to hum
a tune, but it was no use.
.Tust how long it takes an auburn
haired girl to get her dander up has
never before been recorded for use of
Ihe agricultural or any other depart
ment. In this case it was four min
utes. She had heard of Miss Irene as
being "from the city" and of being
haughty an 1 having at least two hats,
and she ached to take her down a peg
From a distance of ten feet in the
rear she remarked quietly that some
folk cousidered other folk as dirt be
neath their feet.
Miss Irene reached the glen with
flashing eyes and blazing cheeks, and
of course she could not be expected t >
find any grandeur or romance. The
moss grown rocks were there, and the
waters cas-aded, but they were naught
to the humiliated and indignant girl.
She would g > home, but she could n't
go by the same route and pass t'i it
young minx again and receive mn •
"sauce." She would go by the tie!.ls
and woo ls.
it was i.i carrying out this do; ip
mitiation that she soon found herself
in an old el> aring and realized that she
was lost. Sh ■ had started to weep over
it when another female entered the
clearing and advanced toward her.
The newc >mer was a lady of thirty,
and she was also lost She had uot
been lost in leaving the glen, but in
seeking to find it. She was cool and
calm and did not fear that tlicy could
not find their way to the highroad
after a rest.
As t: ■ c tiple sat on a 1 .g t I r.:i!.
events wer> happening elsewhere
The auburn haired giri had gonednwn
to the main road, and as she reached
it a young man came driving aloi • in
a bug-y. Sh • recognized him as youn„
Merritiehl. a lawyer in liellville, live
miles away. Hav ing all the law there
was eti his side, hew i< iu>t afraid
a pretty girl even when he didn't kn iw
her. lie ehe i;ed his horse when near
her and said:
"Say. miss, hare you heard that one
of the 112 male patients in the Hellville
Insane asylum es aped this morning "
"No!" she replied, with deep a:. 1
cited interest and prepared t > lis:, a
"Yes. and when 1.-it seen she w.i
headed this way. I am going over to
Liverpool, and they wanted m 1 to
spread the news as ! drove :i.:i r
Don't suppose you hive seen anything
of a stray female around here?"
"Oh, but I have. She passed here
an hour ag>> on her way to the glen.
I thought she was queer In her head.
Yes; you'll find her at the glen."
It was the pretty girl's opportunity
«c n rival, and she took it. The law
yer decided that If sh'> would ride to
j the glen with him. to soothe and calm
j the patient in case she was violent,
I he would make an effort to return the
| patient to the authorities. The giri
I chuckled and climbed into the buggy.
Of course Miss Irene was not found
at the glen, but the lawyer was a
Sherlock Holmes in his way. lie
i looked about and found fragments of
; her wardrobe sticking to the rails of
| a fence she had climbed, and. leaving
| the horse and buggy and enthusiastic
ally followed by Auburn Ilair, he clung
; to the trail until the clearing was
reached.
i "That's her!" exclaimed Auburn
Hair as she pointed to Miss Irene and
| smiled wickedly.
If the lawyer hadn't been a lawyer
lie would have advanced and seized
the guilty party and thrown her over
; his shoulder and started for the bug
j gy, but lawyers don't rush in where
angels fear to tread. Here were two
females. Indeed, with Auburn Hair,
there were three.
He hadn't a description of the es
caped patient. He had been
was a "youngish" female The three
were "youngish." It might be any
one of them.
It might be the one who had given
\ him the information. Insane people
I are cunning and up to all sorts of
tricks.
"Well, why don't you take her?" de
! manded Auburn Hair maliciously
i "Sir, what does this mean?" asked
| Miss Irene as she drew herself tip,
| "Sir, what does this mean?" asked
■ the strange lady as she did likewise
• "Why—why," stammered the lawyer,
I "oue of you has escaped from the asy
: lum at Bellville. lam here to ask you
to return with me. You shall have a
j nice ride in my buggy, and if you ara
. very quiet I'll let you drive the horse.
! The asylum is a nice place, you know
j —nice place. It's homelike and nice—
I very—and—and"—
I
"It's her!' .vpeated Auburn Hair,
pointing ngalu to Miss Irene us the
confused lawyer looked from one to
another.
"You are- C.ip one!" sternly and trag
lcally whispered tile strange ladv n»
she pointed at the auburn haired girl
in turn.
"By George! Ry George!" gasped tlit*.
lawyer as lie rubbed the back of his
head.
The pose lasted sixty seconds; then
the lawyer ral ied his wits. Auburu
Hair had on »n old frock and was hat
less. She n.ust be the one who bad es
caped an I he must be taken back.
"Now. Hi ■ be very quiet and very
nice." lie s .id ia a s lothlng way as he
took her hand. •'Von are going home,
you know. You are going where every
on*' !<<•• you. If you are good and
a!"e you shai'. have a Teddy bear to
play with. Cone along, dear—come
right along. I'erhaps you two ladies
wouldn't mind accompanying us until
we reach the buggy."
The tables had been turned on poor
little Auburn Hair, but she was no tim
id fawn despite her very evident good
looks. She scratched, and as he de
fended himself as best he could the
strange lady rose up and clasped Miss
Irene in her arms and went dancing
around and singing and laughing.
The four were fouud thus when au
attendant of the sisylutu rushed into
the charing v.tr.l ad a. -ed to exclaim:
"Good heavens' Only one escaped,
and here are four!"
It took five minutes to straighten
out the tangle. The strange lady wis
j the escaped patient. Of course Auburn
Hair had g >t tli • worst of it al! ar. :n<l.
and she was the lirst one to go 1- e
was game, but *•'< • knew when si: ■ v as
worsted.
When the lawyer and the girl from
the city ha 1 lieen left alone lie tuado
his address to the jur\ It was up to
biut to make a "liamnter.' Ilea I
the jury to rem nber that h hi. \
er hunted escaped lutiatl s before, tit
he knew nothing a'. ' ' j • and
auburn haired girls, tl. h- was o:i!y
dohig his duty and that if he was
brought in guilty suicide w. - the only
thing left him. The jury listei.ed and
replied:
"You are forgiven this time, but d ~.'t
you ever take m ■ 112 r a lunatic again!
You may take me home."
| In driving down the byroad they had
to pass the widow's house. The au
burn haired daughter was at the gate
and waiting for them.
They looked straight ahead, as if slift
were not on earth, but as they came
opposite she called out
"Oh, it's a case of i"Vo at first stcit,
is it? Well. I'll send each of you a
Teddy bear tomorrow."
Some courtships have had their be
ginning under still more unfavorable
circumstances and ended most happily. >
That's what this one did.
ROBERT ADAM.
! Hi Created a New Era In English
Architecture.
| Robert Adam (1725-921 was to Eng
lish architecture what Benvenuto Cel
lini was to that of Italy. He was ar
chitect to the king, beloved at court,
a member of parliament, and it was
said of liini that he "could not help
adorning all that he touched." Those
of the English people who dwell in
Adam Bouses prize them as rare Jew- «
els.
Adam introduced into English ar
chitecture a lightness, delicacy of
touch and charm of proportion which. 1
i It had never before possessed and
' which gave his name to that splendid
1 period of architecture the style of
which lasted over a century. Every
thing in a house, from the panel in a
ceiling to the vases and gilt wood tri
pods and branches f'>r lights, from
hangings at the windows to a wom
; an's hairpin holder, Adam designed
| himself.
Adam got his rich, beautiful and
'distinctive style front the ruins of the
Emperor Diocletian, at Spalato. As a
finish to interiors he conceived the
idea of using figures in relief upon
walls, colored and adorned according
to Itaphael's Stanzc painted tint ttpoa
the walls of the Vatican. His Idea
was as bold as its result was beautl
ful. He also adopted I'ompeiian styles
of decoration.
"Adam was artist as well as archi
tect. and his walls, ceilings an I inte
j rior adornments are marvels <>f har
monious ( olors," says an architect.
"He employed no less personages than
Angelica Kaufman and Zueehi to paint
many of the panels and medallions let
into his ceilings, and it was bis habit
to have carpets woven to match the
pattern overhead and harmonize with
the color there employed. The key
note of Adam's style is 'movement,'
combined with perfect artistic fitness,
and it is peculiar fur Its grace and
statellness."—New York Tribune.
Trying to Explain.
Howell- What did you mean by say
ing that 1 would never set the world
on fire? Powell—l meant that you
were too much of a gentleman to do
ft.—Exchange.
! When yon have written a wrathful
j letter put it In the stove.—Lincoln.
SPMCTflTtffl i
ail 'ft I
Tli\ SHOP
Tor all kind of Tin Roofing,
Spoutlne Conarai
Joh Work.
Stoves. Heaters, Ran*e« s
Furnaces, ato.
PRICES TUB 1,0 WEST!
QIiIUTV TAB BEST!
JOHN IIIXSOJV
HO. lie E. FKOifT BT. ,