HILLIOPS.
CLEAR:
fe Emilie Loviig |
la
{ SERVICE
~
THE STORY
| CHAPTER L—Prudence Schuyler
A jpoomes from New York to Prosperity
Farm, inherited from her uncle, to
‘make a new life for herself and her
brother, David, whose health has been
‘broken by tragedy.
CHAPTER II
. Prudence stopped settling her pos-
gessions the next day at noon long
enough to inspect the outside of her
_ inheritance. Her tour of inspection
ended at the long weather-stained
barn.
| With a frenzied “cut-cut-cut-cadaa-
Kut!” a black hen flew down from the
{topmost loft. Prudence watched her
‘switch and cackle and flap through
‘the open doorway, before her eyes
returned to the spot from which she
had descended. Had she been stealing
a nest? Could she find it? What
fun!
She tugged a light ladder into place,
~ ‘and with excited agility mounted. Past
the first mow. Up to the highest, al-
most touching the roof. That black
ben hadn’t been sitting up here to see
the soldiers go by, she must have left
a nest. She touched warm feathers.
A sharp peck from a yellow beak
dampened her lashes but steeled her
determination. She shut her eyes
tight and grabbed. She flung the
squawking fowl to an adjacent mound
of hay where it made the rafters ring
\ “mith its outraged cackle.
Prudence sat back on her heels and
counted. Eight eggs!
“Si! Oh, Si!”
The cheery call came from below.
A man’s voice. Not the Voice in the
Fog. That had appeared in person
early this morning. Who could it be?
Prudence cautiously placed the eggs
in her white skirt, gathered up the
front of it, and leaned too far over.
The hay slid. Struggling to retard
her progress, she went with it, down,
down into the arms of a man.
“Boy! That was a narrow squeak!”
Prudence had closed her lids tight
‘when she felt herself going. She
opened them wide, looked up into the
deepest bluest eyes she ever had seen,
‘Her glance traveled on to light hair
~ which had an engaging kink at the
temple, then back to the face. Its
expression sent a ripple along her
nerves. Who was he? The muscles
of his jaws were set, his arms still
- gripped her.
“Seems idiotic to say just ‘Thank
you’ when you really—" Her smile was
tremulous, her voice shaken. She
shivered. :
“Don’t think about it. I was the
man for the moment, all right. What
possessed you to lean over that hay-
mow ?”
Prudence freed herself and stepped
back. She resented the dictatorial
question.
“Don’t lose your temper. That's my
gsual one-two-three-go! method of de-
scending from haymows. Rather orig-
inal—if you get what I mean.”
that his color had returned, the curve
of his sensitive mouth set her on the
' defensive. It was so darn boyish for
a man his age; he must be about
thirty.
“Okay with me. Every move a pic-
ture. But is this method of transport-
ing eggs also original with you?” He
glanced at her white skirt which she
‘the side a stream of egg yolks was
dripping.
“My word!” She looked from her
~ skirt to his perfectly tailored gray
sports suit. It was liberally splotched
with yellow which had not been part
of the weaver’'s design. The sight
wiped her eyes and voice clean of as-
sumed indifference.
“I'm sorry! [I'm terribly sorry. I—
I've made you look like an omelette.”
His eyes deepened as they met hers
contritely appealing. His lips tight-
ened. Was he furiously angry be-
cause she had spoiled his clothes?
“Truly, I'm sorry. I haven't even
thanked you for saving me from a hor-
rid fall—I'd loathe being mushed—for-
give me for being flippant. I am on
my knees in apology for the damage
to your clothes. Come into the house
and Jane Mack will take off the spots.
-She’s a demon cleanser.”
“No, thank you, my man will do it.”
“If you scorn our help, you will let
me say ‘Thank you,’ won't you?” She
held out her hand. “I am Prudence
Schuyler of Prosperity farm.”
“Don’t apologize for the damage,
which amounts to nothing, or the
snub which I deserved. I am—”
“Well, Rod, here you are!” Si Puf-
fer in work-stained blue overalls ex-
tended a knob-jointed hand. “What
you doin’ here? Thought you left High
Ledges last week. Whatta mean fis,
didn’t know you and Miss Prue was
acquainted.”
Gerard!
Now
still gripped with one hand. From"
So this was the glamorous Rediey :
The playboy whom she had
planned to treat with superb disdain
when or if they met! Life certainly
had a nice sense of humor to fling her
into his arms. Prudence debonairly
answered the question in Si Puffer’s
slate-color =yes.
“We arer’t—that is, we weren't, but
quite suddenly I took the quickest way
down from the haymow, Mr. Man-of-
the-Moment caught me—and look!”
She held out her skirt.
“Well, I'll be darned—and eggs forty,
cents a dozen! You’d better chuck
the mess an’ go get that skirt cleaned.”
“Im going. Good morning, Mr.—
Mr. Rod, and thank you again.” Pru-
dence smiled and nodded to the two
men watching her, as she left the barn.
“Pretty as a movie star and smart as
a steel trap,” Si Puffer commented.
“Who is she? What is she doing
here?”
“Haven’t you heard? Austin Schuy-
ler left all his holdings here to that
slip of a girl. He up an’ died, just
after .he’d paid a lot of money for an
annuity, too. Can you beat it! Miss
Prue came last night with a hatchet-
faced woman who's going to be the
housekeeper. She’s come to the farm
to see. if she can get her brother
David’s health back. They say he had
an income enough to live on—he was
a lawyer—besides his practice till the
crash came. Two years ago his wife
walked out on him with his sister
Julie's husband.”
“Schuyler! Is that the family! That
rotten scandal staggered even the
most ‘nard-boiled people I know. This
Miss Schuyler’s sister Julie was charm-
ing but too domestic for the man she
married. Her husband wanted a wom-
an who would make other men stop,
look, listen. His wife’s sister-in-law
was that type, so he stepped up and
took her. He didn’t have her long.
Mrs. Pavid Schuyler was smashed up
in an automobile accident a week after
she ran away.”
“Gorry-me. Makes me think of
them words in the Bible, ‘an’ the
wages of sin is death.’ Folks say
David Schuyler put in all his spare
time helping the down-an’-out at a res-
cue mission. Mis Prue's got grit.
Whatta mean is, last night when I
brought them in, the road was so thick
with fog you could cut it. Once when
I looked round I could see tears glis-
tening in her eyes, but she kept her
voice like music. I'll bet she sings.”
“So she intends to farm! Haven't
they any money?”
“Lost it; investments wiped out as
quick and as clean as you can wipe
writing from a slate. Whatta mean fis,
they lost their money, that’s the talk
in the village. She can get their living
all right from the place if—if—only
she will stick it out. In spite of radios
an’ movies, I guess 'twon’t seem much
like the city. Thought you'd gone,
Rod. Don’t you usually go flying or
‘playing polo or visiting this time of
year?”
Rodney Gerard looked quickly at
Puffer’s inscrutable face. ‘You're not
crazy about me as a solid citizen, are
you, Si? I was going, but Len Callo-
way held me up. He wants my de-
cision on the timber now so that he
can make his contracts for the in-
crease in his cut.”
Puffer rubbed his hand up and down
his nnshaven cheek. He drawled:
“T'll donate one piece of advice, Rod.
Don’t trust Calloway. Whatta mean
is. that old trouble between you two is
only smolderin’. Len’s always been a
queer mixture of terrible temper and
a sense of justice. When he gets
mad he sees blood-red.”
“He’s all right now, Si. He has
been mighty fair and agreeable.”
“Hmp. That's because he wants
something. Butter wouldn't melt in
his mouth when he aims to please.
Just the same, don’t let him have that
timber.”
Rodney Gerard paused in the act of
applying a lighter to a cigarette.
“What’s the idea? You told me your-
self that a lot of big stuff ought to
come out for the good of the forest.”
“I did. There’s thousands of feet of
standing timber that’s no longer grow-
ing, more than half of it decayin’ an’
likely to be destroyed by the first
storm. I told you something else too
—that you ought to have a forester
here to mark every tree that was to
come out, not leave it to the judgment
of any man who can swing an ax, and
that you ought to be here yourself
when the cutting was done to see it
was done right.”
“I haven’t forgotten. but, Si, they
cut trees when the snow is on the
ground. What would I do here in
winter?”
“Folks have lived here through a
winter, Rod, and slept and et like hu-
man beings. I calculate 'twouldn’t
hurt you none.”
With a boyish shout of laughter,
Rodney Gerard flung his arm about
Puffer’s shoulders.
“Don’t you go back on me. I bank
on you to stand by me as you have
éver ‘since you taught me to hold a
. shooting over it vear after year.
' blood raced through his veins.
mad. Guess I went to work the right
THE DALLAS POST, DALLAS, PA., FRIDAY, MAY 3, 1935.
gun. As to Len Calloway, Tl say
‘nothing doing’ to him now, and when
I get around to it I'll have a forester
give us a report on the trees.”
“All right, Roddy. When you get
the forester here. have him look over
that wood lot of Miss Prue’s. There's
about five hundred acres along the
rise that Austin Schuyler bought of Len
Calloway’s father. That stretch called
The Hundreds between the highway
an’ the sky line. You an’ I have been
It’s
the best stand of: spruce and pine in
the connty.. Ought to bring that
spunky little girl a nice bunch of cash:
but I'm afraid if Len Calloway gets
hold of Miss Prue hefore she knows
its value, he'll make a sharp trade
with her. He’s the kind of chap girls
and women fall for-—only the Tord
knows why and he ain't telling—Kkinder
mesmerizes them, T guess. He held
me: up in the fog last evening to ask
when she was comin’. I didn’t let on I
had her in the back seat that very min-
ute. Didn’t want him to get in a lick
till I'd warned her to watch her step.
But he beat me to it. He’s been to
see her this morning.”
“This morning!”
“Gorry me. Rod, what's there in
that to get so excited about? Every
unmarried man in the county—I
wouldn't put it past some of the mar-
ried ones—will come buzzin’ round the
red brick house like bees around a
honey pot, now that girl is there.”
Rodney Gerard thoughtfully regard-
ed a fish hawk sailing high above him.
He was looking at a different world
from the world he had known as he
entered the old barn. The sky seemed
bluer, the air more sparkling; his
He
had the sense of a new beginning, as
if again, as in his ardent boyhood, he
set his compass by a shining star. Of
course he had given to charities—
money, not his time. Spending for a
round of amusement seemed flat, when
you saw a girl taking life in both’
hands and forcing a living from it. He
colored as his glance came back to
the quizzical eyes watching him.
“Look here, Si, don’t let Miss
Schuyler sign up with Calloway. She
will listen to you. [I'll have a forester
here within a month if I have to buy
one. I was going to New York tenight
—but I'll cut out the social stuff this
autumn, stay here and attend to the
stimber.”
“l—I’'ve Made You Look Like an
Omelette.”
Puffer strode after him as he left
the barn. “Do you mean to say, Rod-
dy, that you’ll winter along with us
and get out the logs? Mebbe I kin see
you doing it?”
The not too thinly veiled taunt sent
the blood in a red tide to Gerard's fair
hair. He sprang into the low, long |
roadster, which had not a touch of
color to relieve its shining blackness.
He slammed the door and jumped the
car forward.
“Mebbe, Mr. Puffer, you don’t know
as much about me as you think you
do!” he flung over his shoulder.
Si Puffer’s faded eyes were warm
with affection as he watched the road-
ster skid round the curve,
“Got him mad, gorry-me, got him
way to wake that young feller up.”
He chuckled, prodded thoughtfully
with the straw, before he reflected
aloud:
‘“l wonder, though, how much I
really had to do with his staying.”
* * ® “ * * *
Dusk and Mrs. Puffer appeared
simultaneously at the red brick house.
Prudence was placing a fresh blotter
on her brother's desk in the living
room when the massive woman wad-
dled in and set a crisp golden brown
loaf on the table.
“That’s for luck. My grandmother,
who was Welsh, always carried along
a loaf when she went visiting. She
claimed it brought good fortune.”
“It smells marvelous! Raisins—
hundreds of them! I’m going to eat
that crusty end this minute.”
“Glad you like it; knew you wouldn't
have time to cook today, so left some
things in the kitchen for your supper.
I wanted to come up and help, but Si
sald you had everything planned so
fine that the moving went as if ’twas
on greased wheels, He thinks you're
a wonder. Don’t know but what I'll
get jealous.” Her small brown eyes,
flecked with green, disappeared in rolls
of flesh when she laughed.
Prudence dropped to a floor cushion
beside the chair. She swallowed an
especially plummy mouthful
“Jealous! A woman who can make
bread like this! You don’t have to
worry about keeping your men folk
off the street. I'll wager they are on
time for every meal.”
3its. Tuller’s eyes filled, her lips
quivered. “Si is all the men in the
family now—we had one boy.’ She
touched a tiny gold star pinned on the
breast of her gown. *“This stands for
a white cross in France.”
Prudence laid her hand on the
plump fingers. “Dear Mrs. Puffer. 1
can understand your heartache. I
wasn't very old when David went
across, but I remember Mother's eyes
when the doorbell or the phone rang.
They seemed to knife through my
heart even when she smiled and talked
in her beautiful voice. She had such
gay courage.”
“Gay courage! That's the sort.
Most folks talk of grim courage. 1
guess that idea came from our Puritan
ancestors. But your brother came back
safe, dearie. They told me in the vil-
lage that he wears ten bars on his
Victory medal.”
“Yes, for carrying ammunition to
the Front of the Front in ten cam-
paigns.”
“They tell me, too, that isn’t all you
have to be proud of him for.” She
resolutely cleared her voice. “We're
getting kind of solemn in the firelight.
You look real handsome in that dress,
it’s just the color of the shine in your
hair, 'tain’'t red an’ ’tain’t yellow, it’s
like some of my prize zinnias—and
those wax beads around your neck are
awful pretty.”
Wax beads! Julie’s pearls! What
would Mrs. Puffer say if she knew
their value?
“What sort of man is Mr. Calloway,
Mrs. Puffer? Something of an exhibi-
tionist, isn’t he?"
The stout woman's placidity
slightly shaken. ‘Dearie, you gave
me a start. Si told me I must warp
you about Len, and 1 was thinking
how I'd best begin when you up and
ask the question. Don’t trust him.”
Prudence chuckled. Mrs. Puffer’s
portentous voice was so out of char
acter with her personality.
“Has he always lived here?”
“He was born in this house.”
“Here!”
“Lors, Miss Prue, before you've
lived here a month youll -think every
person in the United "States had a
relative who was born in this house.
or one who died here. T[o!'s is ever
lastingly stopping to ask if they may
look around because someone who be-
longed to them once lived here.”
“Sort of a combination of maternity
hospital and detention house for
heaven, wasn't it? It is almost dark.
Let’s have a light.” She applied a
match to the wick in the lamp on the
table. “It’s out! I'm clumsy. Won-
der why Uncle Austin didn’t have elec-
tricity put in. There! It’s lighted!”
She adjusted the green shade.
“] guess your uncle thought he'd
spent enough on the old house for a
start. If he’d had women folks, they
would have struck for it. [I’ve got
everything electric from an ice-box to
a sewing machine. Don’t know that it
gets me any more time, though.” With
difficulty she extricated herself from
the chair. “I must be going. When's
your brother coming, dearie?”
“Just as soon as I get the house
in order. It won't be but a few days
now. Do you think he will like it?
David and I are all that are left of
the family. Mother and Father died
in my debutante year. He was so
much older than I that he has taken
their places. He has been everything
to me—since 1 lost my sister. Oh,
Mother Puffer, you think he will get
well here, don’t you?”
“Get well! Never knew anyone who
once settled in this village to die of
anything but old age. He'll be spry
and dancing at your weddin’ before
you have time to turn around.”
“My wedding! I married!” Prudence
coughed in the vain hope of counter-
acting the bitterness of her exclama-
tion. “I hope Dave gets well long,
long before that. Thanks heaps for
everything, Mrs. Puffer. Good night!
Come again soon!”
Prudence curled up in the wing-
chair, confided to the fire:
“The long winter evenings! Seed
catalogues for entertainment! Zowie!
“Self-pity almost caught me that
time. Ingrate! Walling over prospec-
tive long evenings, when, within my
first twenty-four hours here, an all-
conquering lumberman has called, and
I have been snatched from a messy
accident by a rich playboy.”
She re-lived that episode. Shivered.
Her realization of the smash from
which Rodney Gerard had saved her
had ripped off the shell of indiffer-
ence to men in which she had encased
her heart. She had actually liked
him! Would she be able to harden
again? Already the heavenly beauty
and freshness of the place she had in-
herited was making life seem thrill-
ingly worthwhile. The great spaces
seemed as full of life as had the city
streets crowded with pushing, dawd-
ling humanity.
“Supper’s ready, Miss Prue.”
Prudence joined the woman at the
door. “I'm hungry; that’s why I'm
low in my mind, Macky. Didn’t Moth-
er Puffer say that life could be awful
dark and dreary on an empty stom-
ach?’ She linked her arm in that of
the woman. “She’s a dear to bring us
things, and a wonderful cook.”
Jane Mack sniffed. “She may be a
wonderful cook, but she’s a terrible
talker. She said to me, ‘What makes
Miss Prue so bitter about men—a
pretty child like her? Did her city
beau turn her down because she lost
her money?”
Prudence bit her lips to steady them,
blinked hard. Since the warning tap
on her brother’s shoulder, little hot,
salty springs seemed in constant com-
motion behind her eyes.
Mrs, Puffer’s question about the city
beau returned to Prue’s mind as sev-
eral hours later she. unclasped the
string of pearls before the mirror on
the chintz dressing table, She looked
was
, each member home,
ROADSIVE
MARKETING
By T. J. Delohery
TOURISTS A CASH CROP
HAT the tourist is a protitable cus-
tomer for farm produce, prepared
food and spare rooms in farm homes
Atherton Promoted;
Succeeded By. Darte $
|County’s 1st FHA Mortgage
Approved, Washington
Announces
Appointment of Colonel Thomas FH.
Atherton, Wilkes-Barre Architect, as
chairman of Better Housing Region
has been discovered by thousands of
farm women.
In West Virginia, twenty- eight farm-
ers’ wives have formed an organiza-
tion called the Mountain State Tour-
ists’ Home. This association, fos-
tered by the West Virginia extension
service, adopted rules and regulations
governing the service and uses a uni- |
form sign which is posted in front of |
Advertising folders, bearing the
name and location of each member as
well as the interesting sights nearby,
are widely distributed in advance of
each tourist season with the result
that members of the association have
experienced an increase. in business
during ‘the six years of this co-opera-
tive effort. [
More than 6,000 people stopped from |
one to several days at these 28 farms
last year. They came from 40 states,
England, Norway, Finland, Germany,
India, Korea, Philippine Islands, Canal
Zone and Canada.
Rates are uniform the state over,
lodging being charged at $1.50 per
night for two persons, with breakfast
at 25 cents per person and 50 cents
each for dinner amd lunch.
“Our experience is that tourists are
a profitable market not only for spare
rooms but for fruits, vegetables, eggs,
milk, honey, meats and other- things
we produce right here on the farm,”
said Mrs. Paul Priest of Franklin, W.
Va. “I buy some fruit, especially
grapefruit and oranges; also cereal,
tea, coffee, sugar, crackers, cocoa and
spices.
“We raise our own tomatoes, tomato
juice, corn, beets, apples, peaches,
pears, cherries, blackberries, grape
juice, chicken, eggs, mutton, veal and
pork. I find tourists like our cured
meats and canned goods. They have
a special liking for country cured
ham.”
These Mountain State Tourists’
Homes, scattered over the state of
West Virginia, are making an effort
to have city people spend their vaca-
{
A West Virginia: Farm Home.
tions in one place. They are alst
pointing out the advantages of hunt
ing and fishing, because of the large
number of sportsmen who get away
from the cities in the summer and fall
to follow their favorite sports and who
are always eager to find good accom-
modations.
While West Virginia scenery helps
the tourist-catering business for these
farm women, visitors are making a
practice of stopping in the country
for both lodging and meals, They find
it handier and more economical.
Altoona, Ill, hasn’t much attraction
insofar as the scenery is concerned,
but Mrs. George Stuckey puts up two !
to three tourist parties a week in a
spare room of the large Stuckey farm
home. Located in the quiet and cool
of the country it is an ideal spot to
stop for the night.
Mrs. Fern Berry of Marion, Mich,
sells a large amount of fresh garden
truck at a nearby tourist camp. Twice
a week Mrs. Berry fills the car with
red beets, carrots, green onions, rad-
ishes, corn, cabbage and cucumbers,
Potatoes in two-pound bags, enough
for one meal, sell well as do her
canned goods and horseradish. Prices
are gauged according to city retail
at the lovely, gleaming things which
dripped from her pink palm. Her
sister's pearls! Lovely Julie’s, who
had married the son of a multi-mil-
lionaire, adoring him, believing in him,
When after two years of marriage she |
had discovered his unfaithfulness— |
the treachery of her brother’s wite— |
she had crumpled, her life had gone |
out like a candle, and with it the life
of her baby. The tragedy had seemed
to run back into the very roots of
Prue’s heart—if one’s heart had roots
—or the spring of her heart which
threatened so often to bubble up in
tears. It had killed the lovely shining
belief she had had in people, taken
the sunshine out of living.
Time had eased the ache, but it
had not restored her faith. She had
had men friends, but she had steeled
herself against their protestations.
There were plenty of safe, sane in-
terests without staking her happiness
on a man.
Men. The eyes of the girl in the
glass narrowed a trifle. She had met
two today. Mrs. Puffer had declared:
“There’s one or two smart Alecks
in the village who'll do you, if they get
the chance.”
Prudence laid the pearls in their
satin bed and snapped the case shut.
She tapped the velvet lightly with a
finger as she reflected aloud:
“One or two smart Alecks. I won-
der—I wonder if Mrs. Puffer was
warning me against one or both of my
new acquaintances.”
| Pennsylvania counties,
better
(Continued Next Week.)
No. 3, embracing twejve Northeast
was coupled
yesterday with announcement in Wash-
ington that approval had been given for
the first Federal-insured mortgage in
Luzerne County. {
Colonel Atherton will be a volunteer
{associate of the Federal Housing Ad-
‘ministration, supervising
housing activities
{Carbon, Pike, Lackawanna, Sullivan,
Susquehanna, Monroe, Northampton,
Luzerne, Wayne, Bradford, and Wiyom-
ing counties, }
He will be succeeded as Luzerne
community
in Lehigh,
County Better Housing chairman by
Alfred Darte, president of the Real
| Estate Board, and member of the Board
of Education
in Wilkes-Barre. Mr.
Darte, a graduate of Penn State Col-
lege, has offices in the Miners National
Bank Building. Mr. Darte will be as-
sisted by Charles Levy, president of
the Wilkes-Barre and Scranton chap-
ters of the American Institute of Archi-
tects.
The Government's mortgage
insur-
ance commitment’ was made to the
Second National Bank of Wilkes-
Barre, and covers a property at 301-303
Washington street, that city. The land
has frontage of 45 feet, depth of 105
feet, The dwelling is a 214 story frame
building, twin house construction, built
for two families. The property was re-
modeled in 1932. Each side consists of
three rooms and a hall on the first
floor, three rooms, a bath, and a hall on
the second floor, and three rooms and
a hall in the third floor.
The mortgage contemplates the re-
funding of an existing mortgage, and
was taken for 19 years and 2 months,
to be amortized monthly at cost of
$51.18 a month. The mortgage is in the
amount of $4500. the mortgagors are
Mr. and Mrs. Henry Sippel, who reside
in the property.
Hay Production
Lancaster, York, Bradford, and Ches-
ter counties each produced over 100,000
tons of hay in 1934. The production for
all the counties was valued at almost
$40,000,000—the fourth most valuable
hay crop of any state.
Schools Join
Annexation for school purposes of a
portion of South Strabane township to
East Washington borough, Washington
county, was approved at a recent meet-
ing of the State Council of Education.
171 Certificates
;
One hundred seventy-one certificates
of incorporation were granted in March
records in the office of David L. Law-
rence, Secretary of the Commonwealth,
show.
levels,
Seven acres on a side road doesn’t
sound attractive from a profit-making
standpoint, but Mrs. Grace B. Baertsch
of Baraboo, Wis, had made it, with
the aid of her kitchen, giving them a
living and cash in the bank. Mrs.
Baertsch sells eggs, poultry and
cooked food to a tourist camp some
distance away during the summer
months, and by good salesmanship has
made many of the same people buy
her eggs, which are sent by mail to
their city homes, during the winter
months. Her egg money runs as high
as $100 a month, even though she does
not charge as much as the traffic will
bear—that is, Mrs. Baertsch attempts
to take a premium through the season
instead of following the heavy jumps
and recessions of the market.
No end of farm women, knowing
their town sisters don’t care to bother
with big dinners on Sunday and that
city people have a hankering for a
good farm-cooked dinner, have made
a specialty of this service. Customers °
are made largely by local advertising;
also by using boys to pass out cards
announcing the business.
Following the same thought some
farmers with gardens and other
sources of food such as flocks of poul-
try, canned meats, a small orchard or
a lake on the premises, have built
tourist cottages so that they not only
can attract the food and outing trade,
but offer sleeping accommodations for
tourists and city folks who care to
spend the night.
©. 1933, Western Newspaper Union.
First National Bank
DALLAS, PA.
KRW
MEMBERS AMERICAN
BANKERS’ ASSOCIATION
* %* *
DIRECTORS:
R. L. Brickel, C. A. Frantz, W. B.
Jeter, Sterling Machell, W. R. Neely,
Clifford W. Space, A. C. Devens,
Herbert Hill.
* ® 0%
OFFICERS:
C. A. Frantz, Pres.
Sterling Machell, Vice-Pres.
W. B. Jeter, Cashier.
* * *
Two and One-Half Per Cent Interest
On Savings Deposits
No account too small to assure
careful attention.
Vault Boxes for Rent.
1%
&
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