Newspaper Page Text
ORIOLE
wtl
MASTER MIND IN CHARGE.
Synopsis—Proud possessor of a
printing press and equipment, the
giLt of Uncle Joseph to his nephew,
Herbert Ulingsworth Atwater, Jr.,
aged thirteen, the fortunate youth,
with his chum, Henry Rooter,
about the same age, begins the pub
lication of a full-fledged newspaper,
the North End Daily Oriole. Her
bert’s small cousin, Florence At
water, being barred from any kind
of participation in the enterprise,
on account of her intense and nat
ural feminine desire to "boss,” is
frankly annoyed, and not at all
backward in saying so. However,
a poem she has written is accepted
for insertion in the Oriole, on a
strictly commercial basis—cash in
advance. The poem suffers some
what from the inexperience of the
youthful publishers in the “art
preservative.” Her not altogether
unreasonable demand for republi
cation of the masterpiece, with its
beauty unmarred, is scorned, and
the break between Miss Atwater
and the publishers of the Oriole
widens. The Sunday following,
Florence’s particular chum. Tatty
Fairchild, pays her a visit. They
are joined, despite Florence's open
ly expressed disapproval, by Her
bert and Henry. Florence will not
play. Patty and the visitors in
dulge in a series of innocent Sun
day games. Among them is one
called ’Truth,” the feature of
which is a contract to write a ques
tion and answer, both to be kept a
profound secret. The agreement Is
duly carried out. Florence is told
as a family secret that her beauti
ful aunt, Julia Atwater, has appar
ently become engaged to a man
named Crum, altogether unknown
to the Atwaters. Florence finds
the notes in the "Truth” game, in
which both Herbert and Henry ad
mit that they have pretty eyes,
and threatens to tell the much
feared Wallie Torbin of the epi
sode. Florence becomes the mas
ter mind of the Oriole.
PART ll—Continued.
—lo—
don’t say we will and I don’t \
say we won’t,” Henry added. “That’s !
the way I look at it. My father and
mother are always talkin’ to me; how;
1 got to be polite and everything, and !
I guess maybe It’s time I began to j
pay some ’teution to wlat they say.'
You don’t have your father and moth
er for always, you know, Herbert.”
Herbert’s mood at once chimed with
tills unprecedented filial melancholy.
“No, you don’t, Henry. That’s what
I often think about, myself. No, sir,
a fellow doesn’t have his father and
mother to advise him our whole life
and you ought to do a good deal what
they say while they’re still alive.”
"That’s what I say,” Henry agreed j
gloomily; and then, without any ul-j
teration of his tone or of the dejected
thoughtfulness of his attitude, lie
changed tho subject In a way that
painfully startled ids companion.
“Have you seen Wallie Torbin today,
Herbert?”
“What!”
“Have you seen Wallie Torbin to
day?”
Herbert swallowed. "Why, what
makes—what makes you ask me that,
Henry?” he asked.
«Oh, .nothin’.” Henry still kept his
eyes upon his gloomily scuffing toe.
“I just wondered, because I didn’t
happen to see him In school this nfter
uoon when I happened to look in (he
door of the Eight-A when It was open.
I didn’t want to know on account of
anything particular. I just happened
to say that because I didn’t have any
thing else to think about just them so
F just happened to think about him,
the way you do when you haven’t got
anything much on your mind, and
might get to thinkin’ about you can’t
Jell what. That’s all the way it was;
J just happened to kind of wonder if
he was around anywhere, maybe.”
Henry’s tone was obviously, even
elaborately, sincere; and Herbert was
reassured. “Well, I didn’t see him,”
he responded. “Maybe he’s sick.”
“No. he isn’t,” his friend said.
“Florence said she saw him chasin’
his dog down the street about noon."
At this Herbert’s uneasiness was
uncomfortably renewed. “Florence
did? Where’d you see Florence?”
Mr. Itooter swallowed. “A little
while ago.” he said, and again swal
lowed. “On the way home from
fchooi.”
| ;: Look —look here!” Herbert was
Eiurried to the point of panic. “Henry
E— did Florence —did she go and tell
[Eon —did she tell you—?”
“1 Notice what she
[peas talkin' about,” Henry said, dog-
Mfcedlv. “She didn’t have anything to
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IPb ooth Tarkinqton
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She came up behind me and walked 1
along with me. a ways, but I got too
many things on my mind to hardly
pay the least attention to anything
she ever talks about. She’s a girl
what I think about her the less people
pay any ’tention to what she says the
better off they are.”
"That's the way with me, Henry,”
his partner assured Idm earnestly. “I
never pay any notice to what she
says. The way I figure it out about
her, Henry, everybody’d he a good
deal better off if nobody ever paid
the least notice to anything she says.
1 never even notice what she says,
myself.”
“I don’t either,” said Henry. “All
I think about is what my father and
mother say, because I’m not goin’ to
have their advice all the rest o’ my
life, after they’re dead. If they want
me to be polite, why. I’ll do it and
that’s all there is about it.”
"It's the same way with me, Henry.
If she comes flappin’ around here
blattin’ and blubbin’ how she’s goin’ to
have somep’m to do with our news
paper, why, the only reason I’d ever
let her would he because my family
say I ought to show more politeness
to her than up to now. I wouldn’t
do it in any other aconnt, Henry.”
“Neither would I. That's just the
same way I look at it. If I ever begin
to treat her any better, she’s got my
father and mother to thank, not me.
That’s the only reason I’d he willing
to say we better leave the plank down
and let her in, if she conies around
here like she’s liable to.”
“Well,” said Herbert, “I’m willing.
I don’t want to get in trouble with the
j family.”
* —•
And they mounted (he stairs to j
their editorial, reportorial, and print- i
ing rooms; and began to work in nj
manner not only preoccupied but ap
prehensive. Now and then they would
give each other a furtive glance, and
then seem to reflect upon their fathers’
and mothers’ wishes and the troublous
state of the times. Florence did not
keep them waiting long, however.
She might have been easier to bear
had her manner of arrival been less
assured. She romped up the. stairs;
came skipping across the old floor,
swinging her bat by a ribbon, flung
open the gate in the sacred railing,
and flounced into the principal chair,
immodestly placing her feet on the
table in front of that c.iair. Addi
tionally, such was her riotous liveli
ness, she affected to light and smoke
the stub of a lead pencil. “Well,
men,” she said heartily in a voice as
sumed to be that of a tall, powerful
man—“l don’t want to see any loafin’
around here, men. I expect to have a
pretty good newspaper this week —
yes, sir, a pretty good newspaper—
and I guess you men got to jump
around pretty brisk to do everything
I think of, or else maybe I guess I’ll
hnyp to tttrn you nff and get some new i
ones that’ll be more obedient. I don’t
want to haf to do that, men."
The blackmailed partners made no
reply, on account of an inability that
was* perfect for the moment.
Florence made it clear to them that j
henceforth she was sole editor of the
North End Daily Oriolg. (She said
she had decided not to change the
name, after all.) She informed them
that they were to he her printers,
nothing more; she did not care to get
all inky and nasty, she said. She
would, however, do all the writing for
her newspaper, and had with her a
new poem. Also, she would furnish
all the news and it would be priuted
just as she wrote it, and printed nice
ly, too, or else —“look out!”
Thus did this cool hand take pos
session of an established industry, and
in much the same fashion did she con
tinue to manage it. There were un
suppressible protests; there was co
vert anguish; there was even a strike
—but it was a short one. When the
printers remained away from their
iate newspaper building, on Wednes
day afternoon, Florence bad an inter
view with Herbert after dinner at his
| own door. He explained coldly that
Henry and be had grown tired of the
! printing press and had decided to put
in all their spare time building a the
later in Henry's attic; but Florence
! gave him to understand that the the
j a ter could not be.
Henry and Herbert had both
| stopped “speaking” to Patty Fa:r
--l child, for each believed her treaeli
! erous to himself; but Florence now
informed Herbert that far from de-
t earsay ’ she had iQ
HENRY COUNTY WEEKLY, McDONOUGH, GEORGIA.
her possession the confession of his
knowledge that he had ocuiar beauty
—the ruinous hit of writing in his own
hand and signed with his complete
name —that she hod discovered the
paper where Patty had lost it; and that
it was now in a secure place, aud in an
envelope upon the outside of which
was already written, “Wallie Torbin,
Kindness of Florence A.”
Herbert collapsed. So did Henry
Hooter, a little later that evening, af
ter a telephoned conversation with
the slave-driver.
The two miserable printers were
hack in their places the next after
noun.
And on Saturday the new Oriole,
now in every jot and Item the in
spired organ of feminism, made its
undeniably sensational appearance.
A copy, neatly folded, was placed
in the hand of Noble Dill, as lie set
forth for his place of business, after
lunching at home with his mother.
Florence was the person who placed
it there —without charge. She came
hurriedly from somewhere in the
neighborhood, out of what yard or
alley he did not notice, and slipped the
little oblong sheet into his lax lingers.
“There!” she said, breathlessly.
“There’s a good deal about you in it,
this week, Mr. Dill, and I guess—l
guess—”
; “What, Florence?”
“I guess maybe you’ll—” She looked
1 up at him shyly; then, with no more
j to say, turned and ran hack in the <ll
- reetion whence she had come—and
; was gone. Noble walked on, not at
| once examining her little gift, hut car
rying it absently in fingers still lax at
j the end of a dangling arm. There was
no life In him for anything; Julia was
away.
Away —and yet the dazzling crea
ture looked at him from sky, from
earth, from air; looked at him with
the most poignant kindness, yet al
• ways shook her head! She had on-
The BlacKmaned Partners Made No
Reply, on Account of an Inability
That Was Perfect for the Moment.
swered his first letter by a kiud little
note, his second by a kinder and littler
one, and his third, fourth, fifth, and
sixtli by no note at all; but by the
kindest message (through one of her
aunts) that she was thinking about
Him a great deal. And even this was
three weeks ago. Since then, from
Julia —nothing at all!
But yesterday • something a little
stimulating had happened. On the
GREAT SHOCK AFFECTS HAIR
Well-Authenticated Cases of Sudden
Whitening Over the More Impor
tant Nerve Centers.
There has been some interesting
correspondence in the Scientific Ameri
can about the possibility of a person’s
hair “turning white over-night,” and
uow Elmer G. Still of Livermore,
Cal., contributes a letter from the
viewpoint of a phrenologist. He as
serts that there are many eases on
record in which a great shock to a
specially sensitive emotion was fol
lowed at once by whitening of the
hair Just over the region of the
brain In which this emotion is sit
uated.
He cites one case of a man with a
large bump of cautiousness, who was
upset from a sail boat and clung all
night to its bottom. In the morning
his hair had turned grey in two tufts
the size of a half dollar on each side
of his head, right over the centers of
cautiousness.
Another was the case of a woman
whose hair fell out over the region of
conjugal love while her husband was
undergoing a serious operation. The
hair grew in again, but quite white.
The region of conjugal love is situated
about two Inches directly back hori
zontally from ilie meatus of the ear.
Another is that of a man with a
triangular tuft of white hair just below
street, downtown, lie had come face to
face, momentarily with Mr. 11. i. At
water, Senior, Julia’s peculiar old
father; and for the first time in No
hit-s life this Mr. Atwater nodded to
him pleasantly. Noble went on his
way, elated: Was there not something
almost fatherly In this strange greet
ing? There had been an easement of
the pain of absence; and he glowed
with thoughts of Mr. Atwater.
The glow faded somewhat from
Noble when he reached a telephone:
ho rs!Hod \;p Ms mother, and she said
there was no recent news of .Tulin
current in the Atwater family connec
tion that she could hear of; none of
them had word that she was coming
home. However, Noble did not de
scend all (lie way into the cellar of
his soul; some of his glow remained
and kept him a little more Cheerful
than he had been for several weeks.
The kind greeting of Julia’s father
had stirred his Imagination. An event
so singular might he Interpreted In
the happiest way: What had Julia
written her father, to change him so
toward Noble? And Noble was still
dreamily interpreting as he walked
down the street with the North End
Daily Oriole idle in an idle hand.
Some startling newt, in our
next.
(TO RE CONTINUED.)
ASIATICS HAVE FOLK TALES
Popular Stories Prove That Human
Nature Is Very Much Alike
the World Over.
Some hundreds of years ago there
lived in Agshelln, a little town in Asia
Minor, an imam, or village parson, the
Khoja Nusr-ed-Din Effendi, concerning
whom some interesting tales ure told.
One day, it appears, a camel passed
along the street in which the khoja
lived, and one of the khojn’s neighbors
who had never seen a camel before
ran to ask him what this strange beast
might be.
“Don’t you know what that Is?” said
the khoja, who also hud never seen a
camel, hut would not betray his Ig
norance. “That is a hare a thousand
years old.”
A great man once gave a feast, to
whicii, with much condescension, lie
caused the khoja to he hidden. Ac
cordingly, on the appointed day the
khoja repaired to the great man’s
house and found himself in the midst
of a fashionable and richly clad com
pany, which took no notice of the poor
imam in his threadbare black gown.
No one greeted him or spoke to him,
and eventually lie was shown by a
servant to the lowest seat. After a
little while the khoja slipped away
unobserved and went into the hall,
where some of the mighty ones had
left their outer garments. .Selecting
a magnificent gown richly lined with
fur, he put it on mid returned to the
room. Nobody recognized this re
splendent personage, whose arrival ex
cited universal attention.- The com
pany rose to salute him, and the host,
who had previously ignored him, ap
proached, bowing, and inquiring after
his honorable health.
The khoja stroked (lie sleeve of Ids
borrowed garment, “Answer, fur,” he
said. —Milwaukee Sentinel.
Graphite.
Down to 1850 graphite was obtained
chiefly from the Borrovvdale mine in
Cumberland, England. Since then a
supply lots been drawn from eastern
Siberia ; from Ticonderoga, New York
state: Buckingham, Quebec; and Bo
hemia. Graphite is also produced in
Ceylon, and Madagascar. Artificial
graphite is also being manufactured.
the center of the back of the head,
over the region of philoprogenitive
ness, or love of children, and on in
quiry Mr. Still found that he was a
man remarkably fond of children.
A Lovers’ Quarrel.
They stood beneath the stars, the
silence of the night being only broken
by the intensified sound of two hearts
beating as one.
For a moment lie withdrew his gaze
from the dazzling depths of her eyes
to tlics diamond-studded shirt front of
the sky.
“Is that Mars?” he whispered, ns
he slipped his arm around her small,
slim waist, and gazed upon a glitter
ing orb in the heavenly dome.
"No, it isn’t,” siie exclaimed an
grily, jerking herself free of his em
brace. “It’s mine, and if you can’t
tell the difference between my waist
and mother’s after you’ve been court
ing me for eight years, well, you— ’’
Her voice broke, and her head fell
forward upon her arm—
“We had better part!”
It is pleasing to report that the mat
ter was amicably adjusted before any
thing more serious resulted. —Edin-
burgh Scotsman.
An Exception.
According to a news item, a woman
was recently married while in a
(ranee. It is usually the bridegroom.
—London Passing Show.
nurrrnrn at I
dUNtlftU ALL
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Uses Carbon Copy for Love Letters.
“I'm through with Gloria for the rest
of my life,” said Charlie as he seated
himself in a comfortable chair at the
duh.
“What’s the trouble?” asked Jack.
“Hasn’t she written to you lately?”
“Yes, I just received a long letter
from her,” answered Charlie with a
long face.
“Wasn’t it as endearing as usual?”
asked Jack with a twinkle in his eye.
“Yes, Just as much as ever,” re
plied Charlie.
“Then, for Pete’s sake, what is the
trouble?” inquired Jack Impatiently.
“The letter,” mumbled Charlie, “was
a carbon copy.”
Don’t follow the crowd if you want
to be a leader.
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