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WINNETKA WEEKLY TALK, FRIDAY, APRIL, 9, 1915. Taking tie Sure Way & By George Elmer Cobb (Copyright, 1915, by W. G. Chapman.) It was a strange perversity of fate that led to the meeting of a certain young man and a certain young wom- an at the seaside beach resort of Ocean Cove, one golden summer eve- ning. Both were units in the great concourse of vacation folks bent on recreation or rest. They had noticed one another be- fore, and if each could have read the mutual impressions conveyed, both would have known that their further acquaintance was inevitable. The rather sad-faced young lady was registered at the famous cliff ho- tel as Miss Marie Davenal. The young man, who had been attracted towards her at first sight, was listed as A. Beinard--Arthur or Archie, the young lady had wondered. That far she was interested in him, after an admiring glance at his manly appearance, the clear earnest expression of hig hand- some face. She had watched him more than once start on a long walk down the beach at the gait of a skilled athlete. She knew he had gone that way this same afternoon, she had timed his probable return. All this she would 'have blushed to tell, even to her most intimate girl friend. She felt self- conscious and timorous as she left the hotel, with the purpose, at least with the hope, of meeting him. The young lady walked on and on. She grew quite impatient, almost pet- tish, as, nearly four miles accom- plished, she saw no signs of the com- ing of the unacknowledged knight- errant. "He must have returned some other way," she reflected, and then with a sigh of utter weariness she sat down to rest on a great flat rock at the edge of a rock-girded inlet. The softly murmuring waves, the soothing breeze, the solemn peacefulness of the spot lulled her to slumber before she was aware of it. "Dear!" she started up with quite a scream, almost in terror. Two hours had gone by. With awesome eyes she regarded a new environment. Her heart chilled as she noted that the path by which she had come was total- ly obliterated by the waves. She drew back with a shudder as they ran up quite over her shoe tops. "The tide!" she gasped, and there came to her mind warnings she had carelessly heeded of the danger for be- lated pedestrians at the Point. With amazing rapidity the treacherous wa- ters maintained their encroachment. Eight feet up the smooth chalky cliff was a painted black mark. If that was the tide--how soon would she be en- gulfed! "Mercy!" she cried, and receded un- der the influence of a new emotion. There had come a scrambling sound. Then some loose fragments of rock had fallen near to her and then--a human form shot past her, its feet struck the ground and the figure fell prostrate. 'With distended and yet withal glad- some eyes the imperiled girl recog- nized the young man who had so at- tracted her. A. Bernard had, indeed, returned homewards by the cliff route. He had seen her. He recog- nized her danger. He had ventured a reckless descent. For a moment he lay half-stunned. Then his clear ear- nest eyes were bright as ever, as he arose and lifted his cap courteously. "Do not be alarmed," he spoke, as calmly as though they were safe and sheltered on the porch of the hotel. "I have come to help you." "l am so glad!" she murmured, al- most forgetting fright in his welcome company. He placed a hand upon her arm ( ee 75 // ile ln qian / 5 / 2 | ih mi Na g 3 Li: fl id Cr She Sat Down to Rest. and led her back from the advancing waves. Then he unslung a small pouch he wore at the belt. She watched him with interest as he dis- closed a kit of utilities coming into occasional requirement with the pro- fessional stroller. A. Bernard selected a broad sharp knife. He began to attack the face of the cliff, hand-high. He cut a jagged notch in the chalky surface, another, lifted himself up with one hand, got a footing, and thus pro- gressed until he had reached a short shelf receding two feet or more into a natural Tock cavity. She forgot all her timidity as his strong hand directed her to cling to him when he again descended and es- sayed to- reach the only place of refuge above the fatal tide mark. Then through the long hours and way into the darkness they sat, safe though scarcely comfortable, she with shrinking eyes watching the wa- ter rise, rise, rise and then flow back like a monster disappointed at the es-- cape of its prey. All the time he kept up a reassur- ing conversation. They had become like close friends. As the tide went out they descended and returned to the hotel. What a delightful love dream both drifted into in the suc- ceeding days! One beautiful after- noon, seated on the cliff and watching the steamers go by, she made to him a confession. "I have something to tell you," she said. "I am not Miss Davenal. My social duties at home wore me out, the family physician prescribed rest, and, to avoid being followed by my many dear friends, I registered here under a false name. I am really Doro- thy Lane." She wondered at the sudden blank- ness that came into the face of her companion. He had become almost .pale. He had arisen to his feet. He suggested a man benumbed by some vivid shock. In astonishment she followed him with her glance as he walked to a distance. He acted like a man com- muning with himself. She saw him take a card from his pocket. He wrote upon it. He lifted his cap. Sadly, it seemed, he waved to her and then to the card, which he placed on a rock. He walked away with drooping head and dejected mien. She was puzzled, alarmed----for she loved him! She went to the card and read upon it the words: "Arthur Bernard Trescott"--his full name. Then was it the turn of fair Doro- thy to become bewildered. The name was enlightening. It was that of the son of a man who had bitterly con- tested a lawsuit with her own father for over ten years, a suit involving a property of large value. Just as she had heard her father anathemize the hated litigant, so doubtless the son of the latter had been taught by his fa- ther to consider the Lanes, root and branch, deadly enemies! For a moment she pondered, but only for a moment. Love swept away all barriers according to the insight of her innocent soul. She ran after the mourning, crushed Arthur Trescott. He turned eagerly as she spoke. "Does it matter?" she asked gently. "What have you and I to do with a childish stubborn fight of two hard- headed old men?" "You sensible little woman!" cried Arthur, with dancing eyes. "Oh, I feared--I feared!" And then it was suggested to his quick mind that, beneficiary of the contested estate-- one, or the other--to join issues they might cut the gordian knot harmoni- ously. And so, on their own initiative, and sure of filial forgiveness, even if an intermediate storm developed--and so, they were married! Organic Trouble. An automobile collided with a street organ the other day and the auto went into the curb. The organ didn't escape, however. It lost six notes from the upper set of a tango waltz and broke two ribs from its collection of popular Scotch airs. Its ragtime love song was badly jolted, too, and large sections were gouged from its "Silver Threads Among the Gold." It suffered the most severely, how- ever, in its "Tower Scene" from "Il Trovatore," it being quite impossible after the impact to tell which was Leonora and which Manrico. Nobody was hurt, the organ grinder: crawling out from under the debris and briskly shouting, "Where is ze tin cup?" The cup and the pennies being found, he went his way rejoicing.-- Cleveland Plain Dealer. World's Oldest University. Founded in the year 972 A. D., the Mohammedan university of El-Azhar ("the Luminous") is the oldest exist- ing university in the world. It is the Oxford of the Moslem world, and is at present attended by upward of 10,000 students of all ages, and from every eastern couniry, from the Caucasus to Somaliland. Board and lodging is free. The teaching consists chiefly of Mohammedan dogma, which is labori- ously committed to memory from sacred books. One Solid Benefit. "T tell you, sir, the great benefit of a college education lies in the triends you make." "That's so. No matter how old you are, if you have been through college you can always find some one to play poker er bet on the races or go on a spree with.""--Life. as a prospective TO HIS SOUL-MATE AFFINITY. Traveling Man's Confession to His Wife Was of a Different Sort From the Ordinary. Dear Girlie--Just in from Rochester and was a little disappointed at not finding a letter here from you. I know you are very busy dear, but this is a lonesome job at the best, and a line from a fellow's sweetheart brightens up the whole day. Business is nothing exciting, owing to the season, and I find time to think of you once in a while, which is most of the while. It gets kinder lonesome around here sometimes, and I sit by the window, stick up my feet, light my pipe and dream of you--and the kids and home, sweet home, and mighty pleasant dreams they are, too. Say, I have been dreaming of an old sweetheart of mine today and was wishing I had her with me now. She had a sweet, womanly face, deep blue eyes and wavy hair, a tall mili- tary girl, just the kind to make a fel- low rave over. Don't blame me for dreaming of this dear old sweetheart, for I can't help it. Confession is good for the scul, and I don't mind telling you I am dreaming of her all the time. I'm married now, but she is still my sweetheart and, what's more, she always will be, for to me there is nothing on earth half S80 precious. I'm told it isn't wise to write to one's wife concerning old sweethearts, but I must confess that the one of my dreams is really the only one 1 ever had: the others were merely flames. She is married now to a traveling man and every week I drop in at her home to see her. Don't be cross at me, dear. You see, she's my affinity. Good-by, until Saturday gave Plain Dealer. IN LINE WITH "DE QUALITY" Mr. Eli Brown Felt Himself Entitled, Considering His Position, to Let- ters After His Name. Eli Brown, an impressive ebony fig- ure 'n his long, black, clerical coat and collar--gift of the rector of St. James'--had come in answer to 2 post- card of mine, asking him to call and whitewash my back fence. "I'se done moved, Miss Ma'y," he said, when he explained to me that he could not undertake the work that day, as a noon service at St. James' necessitated his presence at the organ bellows, "and I reckon I'll jes' leave my card so you can know whar to sen' for me when yer wants me ag'in." With an expression of dignified grat- ification he unfolded a scrap of church announcement leaflet, which he had pulled out of his vest pocket and handed me a card with the words: Eli Brown, E. O. B,, 50 Fenchurch street. "What do these letters stand for?" I asked. "Why, Miss Ma'y, all de quality in our congregation has letters after der names. Doctor Price he has D. D.; Doctor Simmonds has M. D. and dere's LL. D. for some of em, and U. S. N. for dat Yankee off'cer; and coase I naterally has 'em, too." "But what do they mean?" I insist. ed. "Now, Miss Ma'y, don't you know? E. 0. B.--Episcopal organ blower, dat what I is."--Harper's Magazine. When the Whistle Blew. Little John saw a small tug towing a large ship, and heard the tug whis- tle loudly. "Oh, papa," he cried, "the big boat's got the little one by the tail and it's squealing."