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' . . ^ v - ; . ; , TO* UTcsHKN Ifc'T flLAiNlycA-IiftR. IMfcTTEWlRT, HTjt* S.-'I'i m CHAPTER XIII--Continued "Ton suppose," she repeated. "That's right. It just supposition. Nobody knows; that is, the public doesn't know. Bat what Is their happiness? An ox-like acceptance of the routine. .Breakfast, work; dinner, work; supper, work; sleep; breakfast--the whole circle over again. I couldn't stand It, Frank; there's no use pretending I could. I'd--i'd nn» awajrwHh some •ne!" v, :',\i "Jean I**..." . ' ? "Yes, I know what you're thinking. Bat It would break the routine, anyway; It wouldn't be that way I would lose my soal; perhaps that way I might save It." V . •*' "You're a strange girl, Jean."- ••Yes? After all these years? I am •o glad. As long as I am strange you will be Interested in me. That's the trouble with you; you're not strange. I know all about you. And I wouldn't be your housekeeper for life for the •ake of being your lover for a week." "Jean!" "Shocking, isn't It? But true. Don't you know that's what happens, nearly always? It must happen, unless there are new points of interest always arising. I have the misfortune to think, and so I see these things In advance, •nd try to shield you from them." "The misfortune to think?" "Of course. Otherwise I could accept the ox routine a»d grind out my •oul in the treadmill of three meals a day. 1 suppose that's what people call morality--ideal wife and mother, etc. Td run away from It all." I, too, punched the snow with my heel. "1 never heard you talk like that, Jean," I said at length. "I didn't think you thought--along those lines. You wouldn't excuse people who run-- Who disregard their marriage vows?" "The first of which is to love," she •hot back. "When that falls, ail fails. Why make a mockery of it?" "But 1 would love you, always--always. You would be to me the only-- the only possible girl In the world 1" Slowly she turned her face toward ma; she had been giving me an op-, portunlty for profile study during this dialogue. Her eyes found mine; her lips--In thera again I saw the roseleaf beauty of her childhood. When she ppoke her voice was low and tremulous and musical. "You dear boy! Yon think so. I only wish It were true!" The last words came with a catch In her breath, I thrust forward and Clasped her hands in mine. "You mean that? Ob, Jean, If you lo. . . . "Yes, I mtean it. That Is the great 'difficulty. It isn't true. You wouldn't love me always. I wouldn't always be only girl." scenting my trap, "but he is very, fond of It. You should hear him read--" "Hear him read 'Come to me. .... Spoof I" She turned to me fairly again. She had withdrawn her hands from mine and was crushing little crusts of snow between her mittens. Now she dropped the snow, shook her hands free of Its powdery residue, then linked them about her knee. For a long moment she held me under her ej;es without blinking. 0\ • "So you saw that, did you?*. ; ' * "Jean--I'm sorry. I apologized« t saw it by accident--I couldn't help that. I could have helped speaking about It." I apologize." Then her eyes dropped. " "It was very foolish," she murmured. "You have a right to be amused." •> "But I'm not amtised," I protested. "And I'm not sure it Is really foolish. At any rate, I'll confess something. Jean; when I found it I tried to write a poem--to you--but I couldn't. The only rhymes I could think of were Jean and bean." "Splendid! Oh. Frank, I'm beginning to be afraid--to hope--that I didn't quite know you, after all. Fancy you trying to write poetry--and about me! Let's write a verse now. I'll help you." She whipped a mitten from her hand and sat with her fingers lightly drumming on her lips, summoning the muse. You'll have to write It," I said. "I'll sign It." "All right!" she exclaimed at length, and turning to the huge drift behind us she traced on its hard surface,with her forefinger this inscription: If you will only. be my wife. No matter what the past has been I'll take a broader view of life And try to keep you guessing, Jean. "Oh, you used my rhymes!" 1 exclaimed. "But isn't that last line slangy?" I said, when we had It well laughed over and I had added at the side an idealistic sketch of Jean's face under a bridal veil. My drawing rather lost Its point In the fact that 1 had to explain what it was. "No, not slang--poetic license. That's a great adv&ntage poets have; anything that Isn't quite good English can always be called poetic license. Now sign It." I signed it in bold, printed letter^ and then we fell into silence. "What's the answer, Jean?" I said at length. "Oh, Frank, I can't give you an answer--- not now. That may have been slang, about keeping me guessing, but it goes a long way down In one's nature. If you would only read,, and 'study, and think, and learn to appreciate beautiful things--" * "Oh, Jean, I do! I appreciate you." "Rather clever, Frank, but that isn't just what I mean. I mean like Spoof; She didn't answer, and I went in. She j That, too, was fbe chance wnlch wasn't there. Her coat and cap are {Jean had taken. It bore more and gone. How she got out without wak- t more heavily upon me as I plodded **Jean, you would. I swear It !** ,/ Lwe might as well be frank about It. "Then I must reverse-itr I" wou+dh t £»ve seen him watch the sunset In the love you always. Yo^wouldn't always be the only man ln/the world." . My spirit, which had gone pounding Upward, fell Hire a burst balloon. ••Why?" I demanded. ••Because your vision is too small. Because It Is bounded by the corner posts of Fourteen. Because I couldn't live penned up in such a--a pasture." "You'd be breaking out--toward section Two." "Frank!" It was her turn to exdaim. "Yes, toward section Two. You've 'done some plain talking. Jean; now it's my turn. It Is Spoof that has upaet your mind--put all these wild notions in your head. It is Spoof that you are thinking about, not me. I suppose you think you could marry him and not drop Into the routine; you would be less an ox, as you put It, on Two than on Fourteen. Perhaps that Would be best, after all. Perhaps if you were fenced in on Two, you might break out toward Fourteen!" "Frank! Please don't be unkind-- •nd unfair. ... I am thinking about Spoof, and It is just because he H not bounded by section Two. You «id Jack and Jake think he's a greenborn, and you play your silly little tricks on him, but his world Is the world, and yours is Fourteen, and Jack's Is Twenty-two, and Jake's Is-- whatever his section isT He's so big. •o big!" "I see. Spoof has traveled 'more than we have. He has seen more of , the world. He has met more people. And so he is big! I bet I grow more oats to the acre than be does--you •hould see his plowing; looks like-- •be guess and be d--d,' as Jake says." "Quite an elegant remark; suitable to Jake, hardly to be expected from you. And your argument would be irresistible-- If I were an ox." "You're sharp, aren't you? Well, something to eat Is not to be despised. r Kven by big people, like you and Spoof, fjven the soul, which you are afraid of losing on Fourteen, will pick up and leave you on Two, unless you feed that body In which It lives. That's what the soul itself thinks about people who don't bustle for a living; it gets up and leaves them." "Good for you!" cried Jean, "You are actually thinking. I have goaded you into It: Now--where are we?" "We're at Spoof. You say you could love me for a week, and him forever." "I didn't say that." "You as much as said It. Spoof may htvf advantages--I admit his travel, and all that--but will those things keep him big? Won't section Two bound him in a year or so, just as you say Fourteen bounds me now? Is he different clay; less ox, more soul?' "Section Two can never hold Spoof, because he--because he Is big, don't you see? He reads, he thinks, he sings, he dreams. No section can hold one who does those things." "Does he write poetry?" I inquired Innocently. "i--1 don't think so," said she. not. pond; watch the colors change and blend and run In little ripples with a touch of breeze as though the water had been stirred with a feather; I've seen him sit for hours watching the ambers and saffrons and champagnes of the prairie sunset, and--" "Add that's why he got so little plowing" ddne." "Stop it! And he knows every flower on the prairies, and all you mow Is pigweed, and he takes note of :ittle things, like when I worked a new strip of lace Into the yoke of my dress, and when I put a dash of scarlet ribbon in my hat he said It gave me Just the touch of color that one needed on the prairies and It was no wonder that the Red Indians loved color, and how much wiser, in some things, they were than we. and--" j "He was spoofing you, Jean." "He wasn't." "Then he was making love to you." "Perhaps. But It was very nice. You never noticed my tyce or my ribbon. You didn't even notice this cap I have on today; I made it out of an old muff, all myself, and I just said to myself, 1 wonder If Frank will'notice it,' but you didn't--" "I did, too. I saw It first thing, and I thought how nice It; looked on you.' "Spoof would have said how tiiee l looked under It." "Oh, d--n Spoof!" "Spoofs an artist, Frank. You're not." Nor yet a'poet. But I reckon I'll make a good farmer." "We thrashed out the oxcquestlon a while ago. Let's keep on new ground." Very well. Here's some new ground. When did Spoof tell you all these things? I understood he hadn't come into the house all the time we were away." He didn't either--hardly. But he used to come over regularly to see that everything was all right about the place and to have his 'bawth,' and he had the handsomest bathing suit-- white and yellow trimmings--and Marjorle and I fixed up bathing suits, too, and we used to go In--" "Together?" "Of course. Ouiy Marjorle only went In once or twice; she said she was afraid of the frogs. . . . Marjorle Is a knowing girl." My own sister*! And she would conspire. '. . •" I crunched a clump of crust viciously under my heel. Well, seeing that you have confessed, I suppose I should own up, too," I said, after a silence. "I never told you that there was a girl out where I worked this summer." 'No? What was she like?" Jean's voice.was steady, but I caught a hew note In It. It augured well for my first attempt at romancing. f "Oh, she was a nice girl, til right. Her folks thought she would make a good ox, but she didn't quite fall In line. She had that broader vision you set so much on. Sort o' hinted that she and I might do well running a rooming house at Moose Jaw; tliey say things are humming at the Jaw. Rather suggested--" * "Oh, Frank, she never did! . . Wanted you to marry her, I suppose?" "No. she didn't Just say that. But she's big, you know; takes a big view of things. Of course, it might have come to that In time. I remember one afternoon It rained and we couldn't work In the fields and that night she and I went to a dance--" "Does she dance wellT* "Oh, quite well. And free. You know--nothing standoffish, or anything like that. • Well, the storm came up again during the night, and we couldn't get home, and It' *vas only a small farm hoi^V some of us had to, sleep In the :i ld Nellie said she'd be a lioai%jPfy sport--" "Now, iSp, don't.tell me any more. I don't believe It. . What happened next?" "Oh, nothing much. It was about noon when we got home, and the old man was pretty sore, bilt I told him I thought a good deal of Nellie and wouldn't mind marrying her If It came to that, and I asked her to conie over here and visit us' next summer--" "You're lying, Frank. Let's go home." As we walked home In silence, trailing our sleigh, the nip of the late afternoon stung our cheeks to roses and our breaths trailed behind like the gaseous tall of a very young and leisurely comet. Jean complained that one <*' her hands was growing cold so I took the mitten off it and drew the hand down Into my deep, warm overcoat pocket, where we tool$ all precautions against frostbite. The other hand had to take a chance.' We walked along the bottom of the gully for shelter from the Wind which was rising with sunset. As we neared Twenty-two Jean stopped. "Frank, I want to ask you a question," she said. "There was no truth in that story you told me?" You care?" Of course I care. Tremendously.*! 'Don't you want me to be big?" • 'Not ^ that way. I've been talking about ^intellectual things--spiritual things. I suppose Spoofs bathing suit, with the white and yellow, is quite spiritual?" "That isn't fair." "(Mteyes it Is.' It is merely the other ox getting gored." --r-- Anyway, your story wasn't true? You made it up to tease me?" "If I answer your /question will you answer mine?" "I can't Frank, I can't--not now. I haven't seen Spoof since Christmas. Perhaps he's sick. Perhaps he's dead. Something awful may have happened." "His smoke goes up every morning Just the same." "Oh, you've beep watching It, too. But something hak happened. I--I can't answer you now." At the door of Jack's house we pattsed again. We were In the shadow there, and as she turned on the step her form swung close to mine. For a moment I «eized her, no longer able to play the semi-Platonic. . 'But there was no truth in it. Was there?" she whispered. "There was some truth in It," I confessed, as I turned toward the empty shack on Fourteen. ing us!" He turned to a window, peering through a little bare spot In the pane close to the sash. "Looks like a rough day," he said, quietly as though trying to disguise the Import of his words. . . . "She's been melancholy of later trying to hide It, but I could tell. . . . My G--d, she may have been gone four hours!" "Then It's time we were after her!" I exclaimed, a sudden Impulse for action bringing me out of my stupor. I shoved ray burning porridge to the back of the stove and rushed to my room to complete dressing. And In my head was pounding one word Spoof-- Spoof--Spoof! ^ "Where?" Jack demanded from the door of my room. "What's your guess?" But I was already becoming an artist, that artist that Jean so eagerly sought In me. "Just two places," I said.. "She's gone to Mrs. Alton's or to Mrs. Brown's. I don't think she would go to jiuey Burke's--didn't know them so well." Jack's look of relief was pathetic. I had always thought of Jack as being In some way my superior, born to rule while I was born to obey. Suddenly I found him a child in my hands. "You think so?" he grasped at my words. "You think--that's--where she's gone?" "Nothing surer. We talked a good deal about Mrs. Alton yesterday/*. I added, out of the fullness of my Invention, "and she said how lonely Mrs. Alton must be, and that we ought to go over and see her. She's started worry!hk over that In the night and it's ! "Jean! Jean!" I Crted, Raising My Voice Against the Buffeting Wind. got M her mind--upset her a bit tug • CHAPTER XIV Next morning I was stirring my oatmeal and water when the door opened and to burst Jack. His attire gave evidence of haste; he had thrown a peajacket about a somewhat Incomplete toilet. I was about to summon up a jocular remark when something In his face silenced me. "Have you seen Jea^?" he demanded. "No. Why--" "She's not In her roomi Gone. Was there last night--part of the night--** "Sure she's not In the house?" "Hard to lose her In our two-by-four, Frank. Not at the stables--I've hunted. It's snowingt and the winji Is rising; there's no trail." This was serious. Jack sat down, and, as though- oppressed with heat, threw open his pea jacket and exposed his undershirt. Jean gone! In a moment he sprang to his feet again and seized me by the arm. His grip was stronger than he knew. "She's not here, Frank? Straight now, Frank, she's not here?" I turned my open palms toward him. "If only she were!" I exclaimed. . . . "When, did you miss her?" "Ten--fifteen , minutes ago, when I got up. I found my lamp out of oil, and I went to her room to borrow hers. Still, It mTght be Brown's. The danger is that she may be lost In this^gtorm. Hustle back and finish dressi^p and then strike for Mrs. Alton's. I'll try Brown's first, then Jake's, then Burke's. Hustle!" It was new business for me to order Jack, but he .needed ordering to keep him from utter futility at that moment. I gave his hand a squeeze and thrust him out of the door. "Now, Mr. Spoof--now for you!" I snapped to myself. I had a revolver, an old rusty weapon which I never used, but which I kept lying around In case of something which I called an emergency. Clearly this was It I found it and some cartridges and thrust them Into my overcoat pocket; then drew It out and studied It with a peculiar sort of fascination. "Don't be a fool," v enjoined myself, as I threw It on the«&ed. But In a moment I picked It up again and put It In my pocket. 1 Outside the snow was flying in a sifting wind from the northwest. It was not a blizzard; It was not even a storm, but It had the threat of both. The sun was not up, and the gray light of dawn pen^rated the enow waste nq| more than a dozen yards. I studied the wind for a moment, to make sure that it was blowing steadily in one direction; having satisfied myself as to this, my problem--one of my problems--was much simplified. Carrying the wind over my right shoulder I bore off toward the south and section Two. The trail to Spoofs had been entirely obliterated In Its weeks of nonusage, and I could do nothing better than follow my sense of direction. It became applfcent that the sky was too overcast to give me any benefit from the sun, although the gflay circle of dawn gradually grew until the vision would carry a hundred yards or so. For the most part the crust bore me, but here and there It gave away, and once or twice sent me floundering on my face. On such occasions I was careful to test my direction by the wind before continuing. If the wind should veer I had a good chance of wandering off into the wilderness--and the unknown. through that measureless waste of snow. I had t)o doubt that she had started for Spoofs; whether she ever had reached there was another question. She was able to stand his neglect no longer--she was bound to have It out with him, just as, yesterday, I had been bound to have It out with her. ... At moments I wished that she might not find Spoofs. At moments It seemed that almost anything was better than that. There was the possibility that she blight strike a circle and wander about on these vacant sections. It was not very cold; she would not freeze until exhaustion overcame her. Possibly even now she was wandering in these milky mists, even within earshot of me. "Jean! Jean!" I cried, raising my voice against the buffeting of the wind, but it died unechoed in the void of space. There was the possibility that she had been overcome; that even now she was lying somewhere on the white snow, her white, cold face turned to a white, cold sky, her lithe little body, no longer lithe, forming the occasion for a drift which the sifting wind had already seized as convenient to its purpose. ... The sweat trickled down from under my cap and I pulled It off tfnd let the comforting snow fall on my forehead. And now I used my eyes more than ever before, to detect, If I might, any object lyinubn the snow. Dark specks loomed up* through the mist, and many a detour I made with pounding heart, to find only a prairie boulder or a lump of tumbleweed-blown Into a wolf willow. Again, Jean might have reached Spoofs. That was going to be the most difficult possibility of all. What should I do? I fingered the weapon in my pocket, but I knew that that was nonsense. If Jean had gone to Spoof she had done so of her own free will; she need net account for herself to me; she might even resent my Interference. Spoof might order me out ns a meddling busybody; he might subject me to the torture of taking Jean from me before my very eyes. I was' even less than Jack ; had I been her brother I could have held him to accountability. But I would not be ordered out; I would not be abased-- Surely I had a right. I was her friend, her neighbor. . . . Her neighbor. "Perhaps that"is the trouble," she had Said. I fingered my revolver affectionately. I was glad I had brought It. I looked at my watch. It was twenty minutes after nine. I had been fool enough to start without noting the time, and had no idea how far I had traveled. Surely I should be near Spoofs now. But our engagement had never been quite canceled. Or had It? I tried to recall, but my mind blurred. Once we were engaged; we were to have been married before this time; Jean and I were to have been married at Christmas. Then Spoof. I was not clever enough for her. . . . Perhaps Spoof would be, 1 thought, and hated myself for thinking It. Perhaps she was right. I was a good bit of a dub. Never read much, never thought much. Bounded by the corner stakes of Fourteen. An ox. Jean had as much as called me an ox. Thinking more about oats than sunsets. t>ldn't even; mention her new cap. When I did I1 turned my compliment upside down; pinned it to the cap, instead of to her. Spoof would not have done that. Our poem. The snow would be deep on it now. Or perhaps not. It might have whipped clear. If--if anything happened to Jean I would go to tjhat poem, I would yearn over it, I would caress It, I would lean upon It-- It was snow, and would be gone In the spring. Something about keeping her guessing. I was to keep her guessing. Well, she was keeping me guessing just now, with a vengeance! I tried to call Jean up In my memory, to visualize her profile, her eyes, her hair, her lips, the tilting lift of her ankle, the joyous stride of her young, free limbs. It was all a mist; a picture out of focus. It was a nebulous thing, vague, Indistinct, unformed Through ind beyond It I saw the gray snow falling eternally. Then about this central figure--If one may call a thing so ethereal a figure--gathered a circle of light, and It grew and glowed and brightened until It haloed about her head. It was Jean! (TO BE CONTINUED.) Htm Complete History of Spanish Mantilla At last I have found the trail, Francis Miltoun exclaims, in exultant mood, in the Cleveland Plain Dealer. Some years ago browsing In the archives of Palma in the Island of Majorca I came across a document which professed to give the history of the Spanish mantilla. Lately It turned op •gain among a mass of notes. The Spanish mantilla was originally a mark of shame for the fenoftnlnlty of loose morals of the day, a day away back before Goya and the Spanish painters took It out of Its class and made It an appurtenance of the dress of the ladles of the court. Originally the mantilla crossed Its rather straggly ends of the time down over the breast in the form of a letter A. These bretelles were red. One wonders If Hawthorne ever knew this. There's the plot ready made. One and another of most modern and ancient writers went and took what they wanted where they found it, a procedure which is ethically legitimate up to a certain point. It should be remembered that tbe mantilla of today resembles very little that of the falryllke Island of Majorca, where the sun ever shines and the thermometer never falls very low. By a process ""of development It came to be what It Is, but It was always a headdress. ,1 put It that way, not being a fashion writer, but I vouch for the rest of the statement as supported by documentary evidence and only recount It here by the possibility of beftng able to drag in Hawthorne. That happens to be vivid In my mind because in my youth I once lived across the street from the House of Seven Gables. How the circles do cut In on one' another, like those of the planetary system! Don't Fuss With Mustard Plasters! . * itmttmrol* Work* Without th4 Btiuter-- Eatier, Qaicher • Don't mix a mess of mustard, floor and water when you can relieve pain, soreness or stiffness with a little clean, white Musterole. Musterole is made of pure oil of mustard and other helpful ingredients, in the form of a white ointment. It takes the place of mustard plasters, and will not blister. Musterole usually gives prompt relief from sore throat, bronchitis, tonsillitis, croup, stiff neck, asthma, neuralgia, headache, congestion, pleurisy, rheumatism, lumbago, pains and aches of the back or joints, sprains, sore muscles, bruises, chilblains, frosted feet, colds of the chest (it may prevent pneumonia). Jars 4k Tubes Better than a mtutard pia*t»fc Garfield Tea Was Your Grandmother'* Remedy For every stomach ifcnd Intestinal 11L This good old-fashioned herb home - remedy for constipation, stomach Ills and other derangements of the system so prevalent these days Is In even greater favor as a family medldno than in your grandmother's day. Spanish Counterfeiters Laugh at Authorities Many a tourist In Spain has made the acquaintance of the Sevlllan dollar, that mysterious counterfeit which contains more silver than a genuine 5-peseta piece and which, though a forgery. Is tolerated.' The duro sevlllano holds a unique place In the history of coins. Its origin goes back to the days of the war in Cuba and the Philippines, when the Spanish government, in want of money, Increased the circulation of silver dollars minted for about half their face value. Counterfeiters seized the opportunity to set up a rival mint which has never been discovered and in which duros sevillanos are produced. It Is believed that persons of high rank own this mint and derive their Incomes from it. In 1908 a finance minister decided to gather in all the counterfeit dollars. He offered one good duro In exchange for a sevlllano. The silver thus collected weighed nearly 70 tons when melted Into bars. The minlfeter's Initiative cost the state u round sum, but did not stop the flow of sevillanos. Ancha es Castilla! (Wide is Castile!) Is an old saying, and In the vastness of the plains and sierras of all the Spalns Is perhaps the best explanation of why wholesale counterfeiting #of the coin of the realm goes on undisturbed. Human Note Imperfect The huihan nose la not perfectly trained and Its powers are not devel oped to the point of providing accurate Information when one depends on the power of smelling for guidance. fact, scientists say smelling is far the most Imperfectly developed of the senses. It Is vastly Inferior to the power of sight, as by sight the avernge individual is able to identify many thousands of different articles and ob jects. While if one tries the sense of smell ?on a dozen odors and perfumes, there will be a poor record made, and many perfumes taken from known flowers will be perfect strangers to the human nose.--Ohio State Journal. Herring la Bread What is to become of the people who live on the Islands of the Zuyder see in Holland when that sea becomes dry land? Pierre Van Paassen asks. In the Atlanta Constitution. As far back as human memory goes these people have been flshers. The sea Is In their blood. "Herring Is bread." as they say themselves. From their very youth their whole life Is directed toward the sea. "Only idiots and fools stay on dry land,'* a wrinkled old skipper told us once. The little gamins In their wide trousers can hardly walk when they fashion a ship out of an old wooden shoe, fix it up with rudder and sail and float It on the ditch. When they come from school they first must see the harbor. Is there a trawler running In or a tugboat they shout: "Did you see father?" and "How much of a catch did be have?" Fish and the Calvlnlst sermons of the pastor are their life and breath. The Dutch government, it is said, will compensate them. Nevtheless It all means the end of a picturesque ,face. And it will be just as hard to make landlubbers out of these children of the sea as It Is for Russia to make Jewish merchants into farmers in Crimea. I College for Engineer« To supply tralqed engineers, especially for the automobile, motorcycle and bicycle industries, a technical college will be established at Wolverhampton, England. The total cost of construction will be about $600,000, of which one-third is to be paid by the county of Stafford and the remaining two-thirds by the city of Wolverhampton. The buildings will be divided Into five sections: (1) general and administrative, (2) biology, (3) commercial, (4) domestic, and (5) technical, comprising engineering production wlthrworkshops and drawing offices, material section. Including chemistry, met allurgy, and general silence subjects, mechanical and electrical engineering, and building construction. It is intended to make provision for evening as well as day students. How Times Change A good story was told by Rev. Dr. Black at Edinburgh section of the Scottish Buh\s club on the occasion of the annualMlnner. Doctor Black, on going to preach In a country kirk, was asked by the beadle, "Ha'e ye your sermon written?" When the reverend gentlenmn replted that be had, the beadle exclaimed, 'I'm rale gled, because when\liae folk come we' a paper, ye ken theyll stop when that stops; but when they ha'e nae paper ava' tbe Alralchty Hlmsel' disna ken when they're likely tae feenish." Not so long ago the written sermon was anathema to tlie Scotchman.--London Post. Bromine From Sea Water The strangest ship that ever sailed the seas left Wilmington, Del., recently on one of the strangest voyages that ever a ship sailed. This ship, called the Ethyl, Is In reality a great float lng chemical laboratory, equipped to extract tbe element bromine from sea water. Bromine Is a raw material useful in medicine, In photography and motion pictures, and In the manufacture of the ethyl fluid used In motor fuel. Through the last use of the world's supply the chemical has become -greatly depleted, and the voyage of the Ethyl is the first step In an elaborate plan to find other sources of supply. Land of Thirst* The Bechuanaland protectorate ot South Africa lies principally In th« Kalahari desert--the "Great Thirst Land." Very little of this huge area has been explored, although the railway from Klmberley to Rhodesia skirts Its eastern edge. There Is no "housing question" in Bechuanaland. A native hut Is often merely a few boughs pushed Into the ground and bent at tbe top, over which old sacks and rags are thrown. Cooking Is a simple matter. Meat is roasted over an open fire and mealla cakes are baked on hot stones. Eyesight of Germans Germans suffer from anomalies ot refraction and accomodation. Myopia along with heterophoria and heterotropla are the chief ocular af> fectlons of Germany, and It is claimed to be due to the fact that German children are sent to school early and required to study more strenuously than tbe children of other countries. Women Brilliant Mentally Although intimating that differences In the way in which the masculine and the feminine mind work are not so great or so important, Doctor Angel I, president of Yale, says that In his experience as' a teacher, think I may say for sheer brilliance many of the women under my charge have proved themselves superior to many of the men I have met and taught." Which Is a nice way of saying women are smarter than men --something every woman knows and the men won't admit--Capper's Weekly. ' Instinct of Good Work You den't have to preach honesty to men with a creative purpose. Let a human being throw the energies of <hls soul Into the making of something, and the Instinct of workmanship will take care of his honesty. The writers who have nothing to say are the ones you can buy; the others have too high a price. A genuine craftsman will not adulterate his product; the reason lsnt because duty says. her shouldn't, but because passion «ays ho couldnt --Walter Llppmann. Keep Stomach and Bowels Right Br srtvincr baby tha harmless, pnrely vagatuble. infants' and children'» regulator. MRS.WMSI0W3 SYRUP brings aatonlihine, arratlfyfny results In making baby'* itomach digest food and bowela move ai they ihould at teething time. Guaranteed free from narcotics, opiates, alcohol and all harmful ingredl* enta. Safe and •atisfactory. CuticuraTalcum Is Soothing For Baby's Skin Soap. Ointment, Talcum «oM everywhere. Alphabetical Love She--Will you have some tea? Her Lover--I'd rather have what' comes after tea. She--What comes after tea? Lover--U.--The Progressive Grocer. Operation Avoided Sioux City, Iowa.--"For a long time I was run down in health and almost constantly sick. I felt so weak and tired-out most of the time that I was not able to do my h o u s e w o r k . T h e doctors said it was a feminine ailment and that an operation was my only chance. But before I consented to that a lady told me Dr. Pierce's Prescription had cured her and then I decided to try it. Although I was tired of medicines, I took several bottles of the 'Prescription' and it made me stout and well, cured me completely."--Mrs. Robert Cummins, 119 W. Sixth St. All dealers. Tablets or liquid. • Send 10c to Dr. Pierce, Buffalo; N. Y., for trial pkg. Tablets. Poor Prospect Grocer -- How about some - Jlloo apples? Mrs. Dumber--Apples? I hate 'em. My mother died of appleplexy.--Tho Progressive Grocer. DEMAND "BAYER" ASPIRIN Aspirin Marked With "Bayer Cross* Has Been Proved Safe by Millions. Warning! Unless you see the name "Bayer" on package or on tablets you are not getting the genuine Bayer Aspirin proved safe by millions and prescribed by physicians for 25 years. Say "Bayer" when you buy Aspirin. Imitations may prove dangerous.--Adv. Dream of a Dress «Why do you refer to your MW dress as a 'perfect dream'?" "Because," answered Miss Cayenne^ '"It Is beautiful and yet so slight in material fabric." An orator without Judgment is i horse without a bridle.--Theophraata* Trains Negro Preachers Each summer for seven years a negro preachers' institute has been held at Bettls academy, in the sand hill country of western South Carolina. Last year's attendance included 300 preachers and 180 teachers, and they spent four days In Intensive subjects, under the leadership of Dr. James H. DUlard, president of the Jeanes and Slater funds. digest! v« CMps off flieOW Block HI j u n i o r * - Little Nta . One-third the regn- | lar doee. Made of • a m e ingredient*, then candy coated. ••CHUB »Y Wiif'oiuociar ^ INSIST UPON KEMPS RALSAM for that COUGH'1