HER CHAUFFEUR.
How a Girl Worried Her Family
by Loving an Auto Driver.
By F. A MITCH EL.
{Copyright. 1910. b. v American Press Asso
ciation.]
"Cab!" called a young girl standing
on u curb on P street. Washington.
A chauffeur sitting in an auto on
•the other side of the street caught her
eye. She was very stylishly dressed,
very pretty, and, although attractive,
the chauffeur looked at her for a mo
ment without replying to her sum
mons. then, as if obeying an impulse,
drove his auto to the curb on which
the young lady was standing.
"Are you engaged?" she asked.
*'No'tn."
"1 thought you were from your not
answering my call at once." She step
ped into the auto. "Take me to
Massachusetts avenue."
"Yes'm."
Formerly all the unfortunate love af
fairs and misalliances with manserv
ants occurred between the pretty
daughter of the house and the family
coachman. In these days of motors
the coachman has given place to the
chauffeur. From the moment Miss l'io
/ft sfe Wffl
mmf % 6
HE WAS SITTING IN HIS SEAT, UNCON
SCIOUS,
ra Denton, the daughter of n rich con
gressman who had recently been elect
ed from the middle west, set eyes on
the chauffeur there was trouble In
store for her.
"1 presume you know all about;
Washington." she said, leaning for- J
ward on her seat. "I don't know my i
way anywhere. We came only yester-j
day."
"I'm pretty familiar with the streets.!
I have to be to drive an auto."
"What i rich, deep voice!" said Miss
Denton to herself, then aloud: "I want
some one 1 can trust to take me about. |
If you will tell me where I can call on 1
you I'll have you regularly."
The chauffeur did not reply at once, j
When he did he said:
"Call up telephone No. C 542."
Miss Denton took a pocketbook from ;
t little bag hanging to her wrist, from ,
which she drew a card and on the j
card wrote the telephone number.
"Who II 1 ask for?" she said. "I
suppose the! • are other autos there."
"Say yi u would like to speak to
Drake."
"Very well: here we are—the dark
stone hou: e over there. What's the
fare'/" she added as she alighted.
"11' I'm to drivi? you regularly you i
might pay at the end of the month," ;
replied tin obliging chauffeur.
"That'll <;■> very well, if you're sat-j
isfied. Perhaps you'd better come to- j
morrow afternoon at .'5 o'clock to take
me for a tide."
"All right, ma'am."
When a o'clock the next afternoon
came Miss Denton was at a front win- i
dow in auto costume, drawing on her j
gloves while waiting for the chauf- |
feur. lie drove up punctually and. j
not knowing that the lady was looking j
at him. stepped out of his machine I
and, walking up to the door. rang.
"Well, 1 never!" exclaimed Miss Den- i
ton. "He walks like a ramrod. I be
lieve he was a soldier before he be- j
came a cab driver. Just look at those !
shoulders! It's a wonder they don't ■
pull him over backward."
She met him at the door with a smile. !
but suddenly repressed it, remember- j
Ing his station. She asked him to take j
her across the Potomac. He did so, J
and once away from the city they spun i
along merrily. Reaching an old bridge |
over a shallow creek, lie said:
"If I could trust that bridge I would
take you back by way of Arlington." j
"Cross it. I'll take the'rlsk."
"I doubt if it will hold under the
weight of this machine. It's off the'
main road and not intended for pen- i
eral use."
"Try it."
"I think I'd belter not."
Mis- Denton sniffed the air. "i had
an Idea that you were a soldier before
v< ii lier- no a chauffeur. I'm surpris
ed at y< :r timidity."
Ho to:: le a dash at the bridge, hop- i
itig for safety in speed. They had j
got neai ly over when It broke under
them and down they went
Fortunately the distance to fall was
not great, and the machine remained
right side up. But a falling beam
struck the chauffeur on the head, and
when Miss Denton, who had scram
bled out onto dry land, turned to
look at him ho was sitting in his seat
unconscious, with blood streaming
down over his face.
At the moment there came the honk
of an auto horn, and Miss Denton ran
to the main road ana signaled tor th#
driver to stop, and two men who were
in the machine came to her assist
ance. They got the chauffeur out,
brought him back to consciousness
and kindly offered to take both back
to the city. As for the auto, it was
not to be moved at once.
When they reached the city the
chauffeur was about to tell them where
to take him when he was forestalled
by Miss Denton, who Insisted that, the
accident having been her own fault,
he should goto her own home. He
demurred at this, saying tney would
go there first: then he wished to be
left •! 11l- loom When they reached
I Massachusetts avenue the lady's
father, seeing from a window that
I something was wrong, went out and
! when Informed of the facts directed
I that the chauffeur come inside, at any
' rate temporarily So the man walked
In, refusing support, and was placed
In an easy chair and given a stimu
lant. lie declined to have a physician
called.
A week later Mr. Denton said to his
daughter: "I'ussy, I think its time
that your chauffeur go back to his
parage. lie's all right and by hang
ing around here is losing money every
day.l had his auto sent for, and it
has been putin order. The bill will
cotue to me."
Miss Denton told the chauffeur what
her father had said, softening the in
vitation to depart as well as she could.
The young man bade her goodby, look
ing longingly into her eyes, while her
hand lingered In his. and said:
"If I weren't only a chauffeur!"
He stopped and. turning away, left
the house.
The father of Miss Flora Denton, be
ing a shrewd observer of what was
going on about him. saw very plainly
that his daughter was in danger of a
complication that would wreck the
peace and comfort of the family. He
gave her orders that when she wished
an auto she should call him up on the
telephone and he would send her one.
The girl must either obey or admit
that she was desirous of riding with
an especial chauffeur, which would be
giving away her case. She longed for
a spin with the driver of her choice
and since ie couid not ride with him
would not ride at all. llut she went
often to the business portion of the
city ai d kept a sharp eye open for a
familiar fa-e belonging to her own
especial chauffeur.
Then came the first Important social
i function since Congressman Denton
i had taken his seat in the house of rep-
I resontative". The president was to
! give a recei Hon. and the Denton fami
ly were to attend. Mrs. Denton, who
i was greatly worried about the chauf
feur episode, was anxious that her
daughter should go about, hoping that
the Impression made by a common cab
driver might be eradicated by some
young man of prominence. Washing
ton was full of officials, some of whom
were quite young enough for her
daughter to marry, and the place liter
ally swarmed with army and navy offi
cers. Mrs. Denton, therefore, got out
Miss Flora'* most becoming costume
and endeavored to excite an interest
on the part of her daughter in this hei
first appearance in Washington public
social life.
Hut the girl was languid and listless.
In vain her mother told her of the
great people she would meet—young
| men some of whom were already po
j litieal leaders, the generals, the admi
! rals and the junior officers near her
| own age. Flora made no objection to
I going among all these people, but there
j was none of that enthusiasm to be ex
j peeled in a young girl ou whom for
tune had bestowed such advantages.
| Finally the mother, losing patience, ex
| ploded:
1 "I do believe you're gone on that cab
, driver!"
, This was the feather that broke the
camel's back. Flora burst into tears
j and.going to her room, locked herself
in.
| However, when the time came lo
' dress for the president's reception she
I permitted her maid, her mother super
| vising, to arrange her costume, and It
must be confessed that she looked
1 ravishing. Kven the tinge of melan
< holy in her eyes was becoming.
A throng of people in evening dress
i were at the White House waiting the
' ..trauce of the president. There were
| i . inbers of the cabinet, senators, gen
! i .als and admirals—indeed, thegovern
: i; "'lit a I magnates of tin' nation. Their
! v Ives and daughters, dressed in silks
: ! satins, in l.ircs and feathers, stood
: \ .ill them, forming lines on either side
S of a passageway along which the
president was to proceed to the posl
i ii m in which he would receive his
guests. Congressman Denton, his wife
and daughter stood among the rest.
J Presently there was a flourish of mu
! sical instruments, and two young army
j officers marching abreast led the pro
i cession escorting the chief magistrate.
J "Pussy," said Mr. Denton, "that of
| ficer on the right looks for all the
{ world like your chauffeur."
| Feeling his daughter's hand clutch-
I ing his arm, he turned and saw her In
j a fever of excitement. Wheu she
| could catch her breath and articulate
; she whispered:
| "Oh, papa, he is my chauffeur!"
j "lie isn't," protested Mrs. Denton.
| who had noticed the young man and
| overheard what her husband and
J daughter had said.
But when the young man passed
j within a few feet of them and gave
j them a smile in which was expressed
his satisfaction at having duped them
j there was no further doubt as to his
| identity. When a few minutes later
j lie joined them and Flora asked re-
I proachfully. "Why did you do it?" he
| replied, "I didn't: you took me for a
cabman, and I didn't tell you I wasn't
j one."
j Mrs. Lieutenant Drake of the ar
tilery is now stationed at one of the
. southern farts.
The Dog Question In Nazareth,
j Among many Incidents of his wan
derings through Palestine, recounted
i by Harry Franek in t lie Century, is
tills:
"An American who was In Nazareth
long ago," said a native, "told me a
strange story. I did not believe him,
for It cannot be true. He said that
In America people buy dogs." And the
mere suggestion of so ludicrous a
transaction sent the assembled group
Into paroxysms of laughter.
"They do," 1 replied.
The pompous ex-mayor fell into such
convulsions of merriment that his ro
tund face grew the color of burnished
copper.
"Buy dogs?" roared his sons in a
chorus of several languages. "But
what for?"
Never having settled that question
entirely to my own satisfaction, I par
ried It with another, "How do you get
a dog if you waut one?"
"W-w-w-why," answered the eldest
son, wljiiug the tears from his eyes,
"If any one wants a dog lie tells some
one else, a': i they give him oue. But
whoever wants a dog?"
They are never alone that are accom
panied by noble thoughts.-sir Philip
Sidney.
THE SUFFRAGETTE,
An Event That Took Away Her
Interest In the Cause.
By KATHLEEN J. M'CURDY.
[Copyright, 1910. by American Press Asso
ciation.]
She was standing on the curb selling
pamphlets, while beside her a box was
used to display a large handbill on
which was printed "Votes For Worn
en!" If it be asserted that only the
angular old maids or fat married wom
en are to be found In the ranks of the
suffragettes this young lady proved the
contrary. She was very pretty.
At any rate, Feter Thompson stopped
to look at her and by way of an ex
cuse to speak to her bought a pamphlet
"Bead It," she said, "and you will be
with us."
"I'm with you already," Thompson
replied.
"Then help us."
"I meant that I was with you person
all j*."
At this the girl looked a trifle dis
pleased.
"There are certain qualities," Thomp
son added, "that are required In those
who are given citizenship. Oue of
these"—
"I am quite sure women possess
those qualities." snapped the girl.
"What qualities?"
"Those to which you refer."
"1 haven't yet named them."
"Well, do so."
"Women are not good listeners."
| "I deny the fact."
I'y tills time several people had
stopped to listen, and Thompson, not
j caring to amuse a crowd, passed on.
i j He had no opinions as to whether
| women are entitled to the suffrage or
| not. The subject did not interest him.
1 But one thing did interest him very
much—the pretty suffragette. He was
| a philosophic chap, always looking for
| reasons for things, and a problem oc
| cupied ills thoughts froiu the moment
he saw the suffragette—namely, what
t there was about her that caused her to
| remain a fixture in his mind.
: While Thompson was walking along,
I thii.king about the suffragette and why
she had lodged herself within that
[ combination of matter and forces
1 which he considered himself to be and
|l||| 71 |
; Kmr'' 1
! «•?'• si'BMTIT Tllfr®
' t P
; -4 ] U\
"I SUAl.ti DO NO SI'CU TUINO."
. | to which had been given the name of
. j Thompson, he passed a woman wheel
! ing a baby carriage. A little boy aged
• j about fifteen months sitting in the car
i | riage looked tip at him and smiled.
1 Thompson was fond of children. lie
• I put out his hand, which was clutched
? I by the tiny pink tipped lingers, the
, boy's eyes being fixed on Thompson as
i ■ though he had found his hist and best
• j friend.
. | "What a beautiful boy!" he ex
- j claimed.
The mother looked happy, as moth
| ers do when they hear their children
. j praised.
A sudden Idea struck the philoso
• I pher.
"Madam," pursued Thompson mus
- i lngiy, his eyes still on the boy, who
i continued to clutch his hand. "I wish
■ the loan of your clil!d for awhile. 1
> will pay you a big interest."
The mother looked surprised.
To shorten the story, Thompson liar
gained with tile woman that she
I should wheel her boy up in front <if
I his suffragette, ask her to watch hi in
while she went into a store, then dis-
I | appear, not to return. Thompson
■ | agreed that no harm should come to
I j the child, that he should not be lost
i | to his mother and when returned the
: borrower would put a snug sum in a
savings bank to start a fund for the
boy's benefit. The terms were accept
ed, the child was left with the suf
-1 fragette, who agreed to look after him,
' the mother t?i appeared, and Thoiup
| son surveyed tiie scene from n dis
tance.
An hour passed, during the latter
| part of which the suffragette was evi
dently wondering what had become of
. the mother. The child at last began to
1 cry, and the suffragette tried to soothe
• him. Then Thompson left his point of
j observation and, approaching the suf
i fragette, remarked what a pretty boy
i she had with her. Tills led her to tell
, 1 him that she feared the mother had
t left the boy and dkl not Intend to re
j j turu.
. j "You can put him In a foundling
> ! uome," suggested Thompson.
j "I shall dj uo such thing!" replied
| the girl, firing up. "Poor, dear little
i ! fellow! Mamma will come back soon,
. precious! Don't cry any more. That's
I a dear."
"If his mother doesn't return," said
i ] Thompson, "1 don't see but you'll have
t | to take him home with you."
| "I will," said the girl as Thompson
i ; walked away.
- j Another hour passed, during which
t j the suffragette neglected to sell pam
j plilets, devoting herself to the child.
: | Thompson after awhile returned and,
i j expressing surprise that the woman
• | had not come back, told the girl that
: if she would take the boy home with
lier ho would do tiie work of hunting
. for the mother.
, ! She accepted the proposition, and he
| walked beside her, carrying lier unsold
#>W "r -
pa IUJ 1,11 ' ' 1-1 while
wheel • i 'it- . i. ivn iiis ai
Iruiie her ■ i d i i I l»-ii : rii in ..
ci:illie ilj : c : " i 'ii.v. e\<■'
iliing about liH> ii> .. •• -peaking re
titll'llll'llt of « III' i;,HIHtS Sill' ll'l'l
lli.n t ill I s!i:' will'..l'll wtlll I 111' su!i';.i
getti'.s slmpiy In rat; i' IHT heart was lu
llii'lr cau-e. "mi. l." sin- mliiiil "it nlvi'B
iiu» something to iutoivsi myself in so
I'm in>t dependant upon balls,
parties and dress to occupy m.v tnlnd."
Slit l asked 'riiuiiipsou to come in. lie
said lie liadu't time just then, but
would enil just as soon as he had se
cured any Information concerning the
child and would keep her advised of
his efforts to tind bis mother
"1 suppose," he said. "I shall see
you every day at your accustomed
place selling pamphlets."
"Certainly." she replied. "I shall not
neglect my work."
But when Thompson passed her
stand again and again the next day he
saw nothing of her. lie reported the
present home of the child to the moth
er and left a check for a substantial
amount with her as earnest of his
honest iutentlons. Then he went to
call on the suffragette to tell her that
he had learned nothing as to the iden
tity of the mother since the deser
tion of the child, which was perfectly
true.
Miss Kditb Coleman, the suffragette,
1 did uot seem to worry much over his
ill success. She told Thompson that
the boy was the dearest little fellow
I in the world, and she was in uo hurry
to part with him. Thompson remark
! Ed that it was unfortunate that she
! should ho kept away from her legiti
mate work, to which she replied that
[ administering to a child whose In
i human mother bad left him was just
I as Important sis the cause of votes for
j women. Thompson looked surprised.
| but said uothing.
j The next day, however, he called
■ and said that his sister had offered
to take charge of the deserted boy in
order that Miss Coleman might pur
; sue her greater work.
"Please tell your sister to mind her
, own bus—l mean that the precious
: darling has fallen to me, anil I shall
keep liini till he is claimed by his own
i j kin."
Then Thompson went to the liead
, ! quarters of the suffragettes and by di
■ j plomacy secured the sending of a note
: | to Miss Coleman assigning her a very
i : Important duty Uiat would take up all
I her tltne for a week. lie called at the
i headquarters the neyt day and learn
; ed that Miss Coleman had perernp
! torily declined to serve.
! Thompsou continued reporting no
i progress, meanwhile keeping the
foundling's mother content by an oe
j cusioual check. Miss Coleman ap
j peared more and more pleased at his
coming and always had the child beau
tifully dressed and his hair curled
| when he came. One day Thompson
! announced that he had found a clew
| to the identity of the child's mother.
I Miss Coleman turned pale,
j "You will now be able to return to
your valuable work lu securing votes
for women."
"I don't wish to return to that work,
and 1 don't know if I shall give my
precious up any way."
"But supposing tliat Ills mother
claims him. You wouldn't refuse to
restore him to his natural parent,
would you?"
"You mean his unnatural parent."
"The law would compel you."
! "I would contest the case."
"And you really feel that to give him
up would be a privation."
! "I couldn t endure it."
"Well, then, 1 suppose for your sake
I'd better not try to tind his mother."
! "Don't!"
"I'm sorry I wasn't aware before
how attached you have become to the
child. I I.now who his mother is, and
I suppose it is my duty to inform her
that you have her boy."
I Miss Coleman looked aghast. "Is
there any way," she asked, "by which
I can keep him in spite of her?"
. "Would that be Justice?"
i "Justice! Humbug! What do I care
about justice if It takes my darling
j from me?" -- .
. ! Thompson burst into a laugh.
, "What are you laughing at?" she
! asked, irritated.
| "You remember that I demonstrated
j that there were faculties you did not
! possess which I consider important
, ! for citizenship."
, | "Well, what's that got to do with
1 It?"
j "And now you hare confessed a
! third. You care nothing for justice."
- I "That's a man's view of it."
• ! "To tell the truth, I dou't think that
112 you are fitted for a reformer. There
i | is another field in which you can con
- I fer more benefit on mankind."
i ! "What's that?"
' j "You wcild make a splendid wife
( | and mother."
' j lie was looking straight into her
eyes when he said this, and she knew
! what he meant She waited for what
i was to come.
Then he told her the whole story.
When he hul finished it was agreed
that the child's mother should come
; for him. The ex-suffragette was still
1 loath to part with her boy, but his
' place was partly supplied by another.
" She was engaged to marry Thompson.
• ROSES FOR PORTLAND.
Many Nations Will Send Shrubs For
the Planting Fete,
i Japanese roses are to blossom In
1 | Portland (Ore.) parks and squares.
I Under the shadow of Mouut Ilood
j they will thrive as they do In their
, | own Islands, with stately Fujiyama
I looking down upon them.
I j The Japanese people of Yokohama
• ! recently presented Portland with 170
■ rosebushes of native Japanese growth
' j that were sent to Portland for the an
i nual rose planting fete on Feb. 22.
' , The roses will be set out In the public
• squares^
Many nations will bo represented In
1 the rose planting exercises. Holland
has sent an orange rose emblematic
1 of the domination of the house of
Orange In national affairs. France
j and Germany will be represented by
■ i splendid plants that will show the
1 | pre-eminence of those countries lu
- j rose culture, and it is hoped to get a
1 j bush from Persia, where old Omar so
: I long ago sang the beauties of the
i queen (lower. Other nations, through
j resident con.-uls, will present the city
I with the flowering shrubs.
.sastc i
\ Villi.i; Hundreds of columns
1 have been published about
the great disaster in France
from floods, the illustrations
| nn« reselling this country give one,
of course, a far better Idea of the ap
palling conditions over there when the
Seine and other rivers overflowed their
banks. The scenes during the calani
lty were startling, to say the least,
especially in the lower sections, where
the water rose above the roofs of
houses in some places, drowning hun
dreds and destroying millions of dol
lars' worth of property.
The scenes at night In Paris during
the disaster presented a weird spec
tacle, soldiers, sailors, firemen and po
lice working by the light of camp
tires and torches constructing tempo-
CARRYING MADAME ACROSS A FLOODED
STREET IN PARIS.
rary walls to keep out the invading
floods, while pickets patrolled the sec
tions of the city in darkness.
in the outskirts nud in the inundated
i regions above and below the city the
greatest distress still prevails, despite
the efforts toward relief and the prod
igal distribution of food supplies.
Hundreds of persons are found on the
verge of starvation, and thousands
who lost everything must be aided for
months. It is estimated that more
than 250.000 persons have been affect
ed by the floods. Freezing tempera
ture adds to the misery of the unfor
tunates.
Every civilized country In the world
has offered aid for the victims, and
France has appropriated large sums
for the sufferers. The relief fund
raised in this country, which amounts
to a large sum, comes from every sec
tion of America, the French colonies
1 pp 7 : I V
' *■ M
r i I
LADDERS USED TO I.EACH fITTR STORIES.
* lu the large cities subscribing liber
ally. lu Paris, in addition to the regu
lar establishment of the lied Cross and
; other relief societies, public spirited
9 | citizens have thrown open their bulld
* lngs and upou their own Initiative
transformedl themjuto hospitals. Many
; seminaries left vacant since the prop
e j ertles passed to the state have been
I equipped as hospitals and temporary
i | homes for refugees. In some cases beds
t | being set up in the cellars of the
t | churches. -—~ -y
I President Fulllercs has given a largo
1 ■ sum for the relief fund, and Marquis
ile Vogue. Count d'llaussonville. the
[i j Duke do Caniastra. Count d'Harcourt
i and other representatives of the no
•! ® iff"" ii
i-J'• ■' it;
pi
%
I* j * * I m
/ «
OFFICIALS INSPECTING FLOODED RTKEEf.
, bllity of Franco are devoting all of
! their time to the work of relief. The
| women of the Soclete dca Femmes do
France, which is a Republican orgaul
ration as distinguished from the So
clete des Dames Francaises, have en
tered the hospitals as nurses. Mgr.
Amette, archbishop of Paris, Is per
sonally directing the work of the Cath
olic clergy and charitable orders.
The municipal council has adopted
the suggestion of presenting medals to
those who have been conspicuous in
tho rescue work.
A Test of Friendship.
A gentleman tried the following pe
culiar way of probing the ties of
friendship. He sent letters to twenty
four Intimate friends asking for a loan
of a pound. Thirteen of the two dozen
friends did uot reply at all. five de
clined to lend the money, two prom
ised to send it on tho next day and did
not do It, one sent his "last 10 shil
lings," and only three sent the full
sum asked for. The supplicant and
all the "friends" ho had written to are
well off.—London Mall.
Common sense Is Instinct, and enout,i.
Df It Is genius.—ll W Shaw.
| £•' 'f I
I I'j
j I' ■ -- ,
<3 Dy LULU JO. ~o.\
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0 Copyrighted, ICO9, by Associated S |
l.liorary li«stv
CCXXX/0»->Cr_.OGGw—C J^wUOwCOwCO
Strang, sitting in his big touri.ig
watched with lazy Interest the tiny
figure of the child toiling up the hill.
He was fond of children, all sorts and
varieties, but there was an elfin dainti
ness about this independent young
wayfarer that appealed most particu
larly to him.
She could not be more than five, yet
she carried herself with a knowing lit
tle air that belted her timid eyes and
her rosy, quivering mouth, while her
smart frock and fetching hat Indicated
comfortable circumstances.
lie forgot that Danvers was half an
hour late for their appointment. lie
even neglected to think about a certain
girl whose image for the past week
had filled Ills thoughts almost con
stantly.
To his dismay, as the child was op
posite him she sat down upon the
steps of a high stooped house and be
gan to cry, not loudly and with a wild
display of grief, but quietly, as if she
sought to keep back the tears that
trickled down her cheeks.
In an instant Strang was out of the
car and knelt on the stoop beside her,
seeking to learn the cause of her griof.
"I guess I'm lostcd." was the plain
tive reply, "an' there isn't any poli e
ruan to find me."
"Perhaps I'm as good as a police
man,"he suggested as, with a shud
der, lie thought of this dainty child's
spending the day in some dingy police
fetation. "llow were you lost, and
where do you live?"
"I was wl* muvver," was the halting
explanation. "She coined in on the
trolley, an' when we changed I was
lostcd, an* then I tried to find Aunt
Mollie's, an* I guess she's losted too. I
can't find her either."
"Where do you live? In the coun
try?" he asked hopefully. If they
used any particular trolley It might be
easy to trace her people.
"On the gween trolley," assented the
child. "We live way out, most to
where they stop."
"I guess we can find you then," de
clared Sidney cheerfully. "You jump
into my car and I'll take you out
I I KIDNEY DKCIDTU) TIIAT SUE WAS Til '
"AVST MOLLIE."
1 along the line. We're sure to see lie 1
? ' place then. Is your house right on the
. j line of the cars?"
I "No, we Ims to walk a dood lot," said
| the child.
. j "But you'll remember the corner
. where you took the car?" urged
, ! Strang. And tills time she nodded an
' I - - "• - - -
; I 'nlj one suburban line boasted
. ) green cars. These ran out to Mount
. Holly, a distance of eighteen miles.
. By following along the road, which
. for the greater part of the way paral
leled the tracks, he probably would
enable the child to get her bearings.
She was old enough to recognize a
familiar neighborhood even if she was
too young to be able to call the
suburb by name.
lie made her comfortable in the seat
beside him, and presently they were
i whizzing through the side streets to-
I ward the open country. Sidney forgot
! all about the belated Danvers, but he
could not quite forget about the girl
j who had been haunting his memory,
i As they rushed along her image came
back afresh to him.
| Somehow the child with her flower-
I like face reminded him tantallziugly
of that older girl whom lie bad seen
sitting in a box at the theater a week
before.
Strang had questioned several of his
friends between acts, but 110 one seem
, 1 cd to know her, and he had spent bis
j leisure time since then in trying to
find some trace of her.
He was not permitted to enjoy his
thoughts long, for the child soon for
got her troubles In tho delight of rid
ing, and her very evident pleasure de
lighted Sidney, who even dared arrest
to let the speed out another not* h
when the child begged togo faster.
But when they had come to the end
of thu line and she had not recognized
any familiar landmark the situation
turned serious.
Perhaps oven now • hysterical
mother might be clamoring at the po
• Uce station for her child, and a gen
eral alarm sent out at once might
cause him to be apprehended. With
an anxious face he turned to the child
for a suggestion, and the self pos
sessed little one promptly replied:
"We might look for Aunt Mollle.
She lives close where you found me.
She can tell where 1 live. If you stop
where the cars stop you can get to
her place from there."
Sidney Strang accepted the sugges
tion thankfully, and after treating the
shivering child to hot soda he headed
the car for towu.
*3* ~mm. 11 ii 11 ■■■ I
,-ent il along ut the best speed
it ..uudei-iug how he would ex
-1 inis bemiabduction should tho
P uave beeu warned.
reathed more freely when the,,
1 . the city again, and presently
t were at the transfer point for in
in trolleys. From her seat la t
i .iV the child seemed able to pick
; i., landmarks, and presently,
jl. >vich regret, she pointed to a bouss
' v a she declared to be her
I . drew 18 the curb and alighted
I to .. . the little traveler down.
w as a terrible nice ride," she de
cl. u. "I wisht 1 lived miles an'
mi.es an' miles away."
Sidney scarcely echoed the wish, but
he putted the cheek that was offered
for his caress and turned to climb into
the car.
At this instant he heard an exclama
tion of surprise and turned to look into,
the glowing eyes of the rosy girl ho.
wanted to know, the girl of the bo*t
party.
She had caught the child up in hsr>
arms, laughing and crying simultane
ously. Sidney decided that she waat
the "Aunt Mollle" for whom they hadl.
searched and raised his hat. *
"The kiddle lost licr way," he ex
plained. "1 ran out to Mount 11 oily lal
the hope that she might be able to lg-i
cate her home, but the effort was un-t
availing, and at last she remembered!
that she could find her way from tiiqf
transfer station to your house."
"Lost!" The j ill laughed nervyusly,
"Betty," she added, "do you mean to
eay that you made this gentleman
take you out to Mount II HyV"
The child nodded her head and look
ed fearlessly at the other girl.
"Betty has a pas-don for autom-ibll
j lng." she added. ' Father lu.s an ii.ex
-1 plicable fear of It and v.i'l mth ive n'
car, so 1 suppose 1 t'-it !i" took this
I means of obtaining a ride, the seh
lng little puss S! shall b> punl died'
j and put to bed. She doesn't live In the
i country. Ot;r home is just around thO'
j corner.
' "Betty went out to play wiili a Uttlt*
| friend, and not until the other little
girl came to ask where she was did
we realize that she was not safe at tha
Itawllngs home.
"Jlmmie l'awlings?" asked Sidney
quickly. "Jim and 1 are great friends.
May I ask him to bring me to call
some time? Then I might have an ex
-1 cuse for taking Hetty for a ride with
out tempting her to get lost <lll her
■ own doorstep. It was just around thu
1 corner that I found her."
"She deserves no more ride.?," waa
the severe declaration, but Sidney of
-1 fered an emphatic negative.
"I shall feel that she deserves many
rides," he declared boldly, "if you will
net as her chaperon."
The pretty girl flushed, but a glanco
at the eager face of the child dei IdecV
licr. *"
"Ask Mr. Rawlings to bring yo-jj.
over," she consented. "I am Alice l
l'aklns, by the way, and 1 am sum
that Betty -and 1—■will be very glad to*
go riding."
"I'll come tomorrow," promised t !d
--nej as he climbed Into the < ;•. Then
as he rolled down the street he ns
suri'd himself that Betty -Ii u!d b»
forgiven and have dally ride, f< r sho
had found for him the girl of iris.
Changed Her Name.
Mrs. i'igg. a very charming and vl
vaelous widow, called 011 a legal friend
of hers, a widower, to consult hlin on
a matter of Interest to her.
"You know, sir," she . lid to him,
"that when the late Mr. I'igg died he'
left me all his fortune, much to my
I satisfaction, of course, but he handl
| capped It with the name of Figg,i
I which I must say I don't like."
I "Well," ventured the lawyer, "I pre
sume a handsome woman isn't espe
cially complimented by being left a
Plgg"
"I should say not," she laughed.
"Now, what l came to see you about
. 1 was whether or not I must execute
what you call a deed poll to get It
changed."
"Cm—er," he hesitated, as if wres
tling with a great legal problem—"unit
er—yes, but an easier way Is to ap-j
ply to a pain r,. and I'll pay all the
penses myself."
I It was stitli!but awil\v is never
caught nappltu'. and she appointed
' that even 1: 1: 112 ' ->Vr ••"sulfation.
V
1 T
t
The Order Pleased tHe Cook.
, The follow 11.u story is told ou a mis
. slonary of the 1 iiina inland mission, a
1 bachelor keeping house tor himself Irv*
the southern p;.. t of China: One morn-g
t lng In ordering his dinner he
s to tell his cook to buy a chicUen. In-'
, stead of saying "ye" for chicken ho
aspirated the word, saying, "litiy tue a
1 'che.'" Ills cook thought that was aitf
eminently proper command and went
about his marketing in high good tin
t mor. At 110011 the missionary found
, no chicken cooked—in fact, no dinner.
I at all, for his cook had not returned.
About dark the man came back, say-,
, lng: "This was not a good day for buy-t
lng wives, and I have been all day
looking for one, hut at last I found
one for you. She is rather old and not
t pretty, but \ 11 can have her cheap. I •
. ba\e promised "to for her." ir
: mmwi 1
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i
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no. Ut E. FBQNT *T,