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THE TRI-WEEKLY JOURNAL
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A BIBLE THOUGHT FOR TODAY
These are the things that ye shall do:
Speak ye every man the truth to his neigh
bor; execute the judgment of truth and
peace in your gates; and let none of you
imagine evil in your hearts against his
neighbor; and love no false oath, for all
these are things that 1 hate, saith the Lord.
—Zachariah 8:16-17. A new commandment
1 give unto you, that we love one another;
as I have loved you, that ye also love
one another. —The Gospel of John 13:34.
The British Election Results
ELEMENTS that played keenly upon pop
ular feeling must have been at wotk in
the recent British elections. Only thus
can we at this distance account for so sweep
ing a victory as the Conservatives appear to
have won. There were no very broad or
vital issues when the campaign began. On
the tariff, it is true, the old lines between
free traders and protectionists were tightly
drawn; and local matters of more or less
importance agitated this or that constitu
ency. But the Labor government had raised
no novel or far-reaching questions in do
mestic politics, while in the field of foreign
relations its record was, in the main, emi
nently constructive. At home it had been
anything but radical, abroad everything that
was tranquilizing. Yet down it went before
an avalanche of Conservative ballots.
That the government’s unfortunate,
though probably innocent, relations with the
Moscow communists had a good deal to do
with the volume and vim of the opposition
vote is easily to be read between the lines
of London news. Sovietism is a poor ac
quaintance and a dangerous ally, casting
suspicion upon all who venture to give it
mdre than perfunctory greeting. Britons
naturally distrusted and resented what
smacked of Soviet meddling with their po
litical affairs; and the MacDonald govern
ment, being the nearest object on which
popular feeling could react, caught the brunt
of the emotion.
Even without this circumstance, however,
it is likely that there would have been a
political overturn. The position of Labor
in the present House of Commons has been
precarious from the outset. Only by suf
ferance of the Liberal group has it managed
to hold a working majority; and only be
cause the opposition leadership , as. content
to let matters drift for a while, were the
decisive challenge and test so long deferred.
The moment finally chosen for appeal to the
country was manifestly apt. By yesterday’s
incomplete count the Conservatives showed
A gain of one hundred and forty-three seats
and a majority sufficient to rule' as well as
to govern.
Much more striking than the reverse of
the Labor party is what appears to be al
most the rout of the Liberals. While Labor
lost forty seats, it polled a larger vote than
In the last general election and fell behind
first place by only some two million. But
the Liberals lost one hundred and four
seats, retaining only some t\ score, and
were upwards of two million, three hundred
thousand popular votes behind Labor. Thus
a party which has loomed large and has
been often dominant in British politics for
ninety-one years is reduced to a remnant.
Among those of its leaders who went down
In the disaster was the veteran Herbert
Asquith, a statesman whom the world could
ill afford to spare. Some interpret the Lib
eral debacle as foreshadowing a return to
the two-party system, which long served
England as it does America. In that event,
the Labor group may be expected to become
more conservative, or the Conservative more
forward-going. Regardless of forms and
THE ATLWIA ll.’ U Li ..L.Li.oAL
names, the great spirit of Liberalism will
endure and go onward, conquering and to
conquer.
/In Example for Our Voters
COMING alrtiost upon the eve of our own
great referendum, the British election
has set one example which every Amer-:
lean citizen should take to heart. From the
returns thus far complete it appears that
fifteen million, four hundred and fifty-one
thousand, five hundred and forty persons
have voted out of a possible electorate of
nineteen million, two hundred and seventy
six thousand, three hundred and fifty-nine.
If we on this side of the water were given
to mustering as representative a number of
votes to the determination of important
issues, there would be far less ground for
complaint about the rule of minorities. In
town, county, state and national elections!
alike we are all too prone to shirk our duty ,
and forego our privilege at the ballot box,
notwithstanding that it is the source of gov-j
ernment and the safeguard of freedom. The
prime obligation of citizenship is to cast a
thoughtful and a patriotic vote. To’be neg
ligent of that is to be unworthy of the
heritage which our forbears purchased with
immeasurable sacrifice and sublime heroism.
Let it not be said of Georgia after No
vember the fourth that forty-seven per cent
of her qualified voters failed to -exercise
their right and to render theh service which
both party and country are due. Certainly
let it not be said that the Democrats of this
great commonwealth, on whose vote may
hinge consequences of vast import, were
recreant to their faith in an hour of vital
test and inspiring opportunity.
MY FAVORITE STORIES
By Irving S. Cobb
A MOVING SCENE AT A TH BED
THE aged second-hand dealer lies upon
his bed. He has been ill for months;
he is almost gone. At times he has
been out of his mind, raving wildly, but now
he is quite calm.
He calls to his side his two sons, his sue-1
cessors in the business. He bids them fare
well. Then, in a weak but steady voice he
goes on:
“I cannot pass in peace until I know that
all my worldly affairs are settled. I charge
you now to listen carefully and obey my in
structions.”
“Yes, father,” answered the pair 'uti- !
fully.
“Cohn, the delicatessen man on the cor-i
ner, owes me two hundred dollars borrowed
money. Collect it from him.”
‘‘We will,” says the elder son, fervently.
He addresses the other:
‘‘Ain’t it wonderful? Almost gone and
still so rational!”
‘‘Wait,” gasps the dying man. “Smith,
the livery stable man is still in my debt for
twenty dollars balance on that horse I sold .
him last spring. Go to him and get it.”
“Marvelous!” exclaims the younger son.
“He fogets nothing, even now.”
“One thing more,” murmurs the fa'her,
in a faint whisper. “I owe O’Reilly, the fur
niture dealer, six hundred and forty dollars!
for ...”
“Delirious again!” cried the first brother.
‘’Absolutely,” agrees the second. “I
couldn’t bear it to hear any more. Let’s go
away.”
Weeping bitterly they withdrew from the
death-chamber.
(Copyright, 1924.)
QUIZ
jAny Tri-Weekly Journal reader can
get the answer to any question puzzling
him by writing to The Atlanta Journal
Information Bureau, Frederic J. Has
kin, director, Washington, D. C., and
inclosing a two-cent stamp for return
postage. DO NOT SEND IT TO OUR
ATLANTA OFFICE.
Q. What is the largest diamond that ig in
existence? C. F. C.
A. The largest diamond, of which there is
any record, was found on January 26, 1905,
in the Premier mine, near Pretori', Trans
vaal. The stone, called the Cullinan dia
mond, weighed 3,024% carats, or 1.37
pounds, and measured 4 inches by 3.5 inches
by 1.25 inches. Its value was estimated at
from $2,500,000 to $5,000,000. This dia
mond. which was reputed to be the purest
of the large stones, was purchased by an
English syndicate and cut into nine stones,
which were presented in 1 908 to King Ed-
Avard VII to be placed among the English
crown jewels.
Q. Where is the Doggerbank? F. S. C.
A. The Doggerbank is an extensive flat
sandbank near the middle of the North sea j
between England on the west and Denmark '
on the east, and is about sixty miles broad.
It is about 200 miles long and has a depth
of less than 120 feet, and near the English
coast it has only about fifty feet of water.
Tbjs bank furnishes important cod n.sbingi
grounds.
Q. Who were the Jubilee Singers? S. J. W. '
A. Members of Fiske university (one of
the earliest institutions for advancing negro
education), who, after touring the United
States, sang before Queen Victoria and many
other dignitaries fifty years ago. By this
means large sums of money were raised for
the support of the university. A nilmber of
Fiske singers are again touring Europe for
the same purpose and recently sang before
King George at the home of Lady Astor.
Q. How many composed the party which
recently attempted the ascent of Mt. Ever
est? M. M. C.
A. The expedition, which started from
Darjeeling. India. March 26. 1 924. consisted
■ of thirteen Englishmen and several native
I porters, under the command of General C. C.
' Bruce (who was obliged by illness to aban
-1 don thp active leadership to Colonel Norton).
j Q. Why is the waiting room for the use
‘ of actors and actresses called “the green
room?” L. T. T.
A. “Stage-glare.” caused by the artificial
lighting of a theater, affects the eyes of ac
tors and actresses. The walls of the waiting
room used by them during the intervals,
of a play were colored green because this is
a good antidote to the effection of the
( eyes. Hence the name.
Q. What was the 1923 rate of infant mor
i tality? T. M. H.
A. Within the birth-registration area of
the U. S. A.. 7S children out of every 1,000
born in 1923 died during their first year.
Q. In the Hawaiian Islands are there any
high waterfalls? G. V. R.
A. On all of the five large islands there
are waterfalls. More than 100 exceed 500
feet in height. Probably 1,000 are higher
j ; han Niagara. |
THE SEA HAWK I
BY RAFAEL SABATINI
(Published by Arrangement. With First National Pictures,
Inc. Copyrighted by Houghton-Mifflin Company.)
f ’ll APTER \ 111 (Cont ill tied)
MASTER LEIGH considered him a mo-i
went. “Sets the wind so!” said he |
at length, and without another word I
he rose and went to a sea-chest ranged
against the wooden wall of the cabin.
He opened it and took thence a leather}
bag. From this he produced a handful of
jewels. He thrust them under Sir Oliver’s!
nose.
“Haply,” said he, “ye’ll be acquainted
with some of them. They was given me to
make up the sum, since your brother had
not the whole two hundred pound in coin.
Take a look at them.”
Sir] Oliver recognized a ring and a long
pear-shaped pearl earring that had been his
brother’s; he recognized a medallion that he
himself had given Lionel two years ago; and
so, one by one, he recognized every trinket
placed before’him.
His head drooped to his breast, and ho
sat thus while like a man stunned.
“My God!” he groaned miserably, at last.}
“Who, then, is left me! Lionel, too!
Lionel! ”
A sob shook the great frame. Two tears
slowly trickled down that haggard face and
were lost in the stubble of beard upon his
chin.
“I am cursed!” he said.
Never without such evidence could he
have believed this thing. From the mo
ment that he was beset outside the gates of
Godolphin Court he had conceived it to be
the work of Rosamund, and his listlessness
was begotten of the thought that she could
have suffered conviction of his guilt and her
hatred of him to urge her to such lengths
as these.
This conviction had been gall and worm
wood to him; it had drugged his very
senses, reducing him to a listless indiffer
ence to any fate that might be reserved him.
Yet it had not been so bitter a draft as this
present revelation. After all, in her case
there were some grounds for the hatred that
had come to take the place of her erstwhile
love. But in Lionel’s what grounds were
possible? What motives could exist for
such an action as this, other than a mon
strous, a loathly egoism which desired per
haps to insure that the blame for the death -
of Peter Godolphin should not be shifted
from the shoulders that were unjustly bear
ing it, and the accursed desire to profit by ,
the removal of the man who had been
brother, father and all else to him?
He shuddered in sheer horror. It was in
credible, and yet beyond a doubt it was true.
For all the love which he had showered
upon Lionel, for all the sacrifices of self
which he had made to shield him, this was
Lionel’s return. Were all the world against
him he still must, have believed Lionel true
to him, and in that belief must have been
enheartened a little. And now—his sense
of loneliness, of utter destitution, over
whelmed him. Then slowly of his sorrow
resentment was begotten, and being begot
ten it grew rapidly until it filled his mind
and whelmed in its turn all else.
“Master Leigh,” said he, “what is your
price to carry me home again to England?”
“Why, Sir Oliver,” said he, “I think the
price I was paid to carry you off would be
a fair one. The one would wipe out t’other [
as it were.” i
“You’ shall have twice the sum when you
land me on Trefusis point again,” was the
instant answer.
The captain’s little eyes blinked and his
shaggy red eyebrows came together in a
frown. Here was too speedy an acquiescence.
There must be guile behind it, or he knew i
nought of the ways of men.
“What mischief are ye brooding?” he
sneered.
* “Mischief, man? To you?” Sir Oliver!
laughed hoarsely. “God’s light, knave, d’ye,
think I consider you in this matter, or d’ye
think I’ve room in my mind for such petty I
resentments together with that other?”
It was the truth, So absolute was he
the bitter sway of his anger against Lionel
that he could givfe no thought to this ras
cally seaman’s sha?e in the adventure.
“Will ye give me your xvord for that?”
“My word? Pshaw, man! I have given
it already. I swear that you shall be paid
the sum I’ve named the moment you set me j
ashore again in England. Is that enough j
for you? Then, cut me these bonds, and let
us make an end of my present condition.”
“Faith, I am glad to deal with so sensible}
a man! Ye take it in the proper spirit.!
Ye see that what I ha’ done I ha’ but done
tn the way of my calling, that I am but a
tool, and that what blame there be belongs
to them which hired me to this deed.”
“Aye. ye’re but a tool—a dirty tool,
whetted with gold, no more. ’Tis admitted.
Cut me these bonds, a God’s name! I’m
weary o’ being trussed like a capon.”
The captain drew his knife, crossed to Sir I
Oliver's side and slashed his bonds away }
without further word. Sir Oliver stood up
so suddenly that he smote his head against
the low ceiling of the cabin and so sat down!
again at once. And in that moment from !
without and above there came a cry which i
sent, the skipper to the cabin door. He
flung it oiien, and so let out the smoke and
let in tlx#? sunshine. He passed out on to
the poop-deck, and Sir Oliver, conceiving
himself at liberty to do so—followed him.
In the waist below a little knot of shaggy
seamen were crowding to the larboard bul
warks, looking out to sea; on the forecastle
there was another similar assembly, all star-'
ing intently ahead and toward the land.
They were off Cape Roca at the time, and
when Captain Leigh saw by how much they
had lessened their distance from shore since
last he had conned the ship he swore fero
ciously at his mate, who had charge of the
wheel. Ahead of them away on their lar- >
board bow and in line with the mouth of
the Tagus from which shse had issued—-and
where not a doubt but she had been lying
in wait for such stray craft as this—came a
great tall masted ship, equipped with top
gallants. running well night before the wind,
with every foot of canvas spread. I
Close hauled as was the Swallow and with
her topsails and mizzen reefed she was not
making more than one knot to the Spaniard’s
five—for that she was a Spaniard was be
yond all doubt judging by the haven xvhence
she issued.
“Luff alee!” bawled the skipper, and he}
sprang to the thrusting the mate
aside with a blow of his elbow that almost
sent him sprawling.
“ ’Twas yourself set the course." the fel
low protested.
“Thou lubberly fool.” roared the skipper
“I bade thee keep the same distance from
shore. If the land comes jutting out to
meet us are we to keep straight on until we
pile her up?”
He span the wheel round in his hands and
turned her down the wind. Then he relin
quished the helm to the mate again.
“Hold her thus.” he commanded, and bel
lowing orders as he went, he heaved him
self down the companion to see them ex- '
ecuted.
Men sprang to the ratlines to obey him.
and went swarming aloft to let out the
reefs of the topsails: others ran astern to do
the like by the mizzen, and soon they had }
her leaping and plunging through the green
water with every sheet unfurled, racing
straight out to sea.
Front the poop Sir Oliver watched the
Spaniard. He saw her veer a point or so
io starboard, heading straight to
them, and he obser\ eri that although this.
OLD-TIME RELIGION
BY BISHOP W. a. CANDLER
LISTLESS PATRIOTISM ARISING 1
I ROM LIFELESS PIETY
WITH one accord the historians who
have treated the decline and fall of
the Roman commonwealth note that;
the characteristic mark of that, eventful'
epoch was the continuous decrease of pop
ular interest in the public welfare.
Men who were possessed of property!
were too absorbed in the acquisition and en
joyment of more wealth to care for the pro-I
motion of good government and the security
of the State.
'The poorer classes—sometimes called “the.;
masses” —were concerned to get something!
out of the government rather than to serve!
it as good citizens. Hence their patriotism ■
was drugged into perpetual slumber by gifts,
of bread and games provided for them by !
demagogues at publice expense.
With all classes thus indifferent, ambi-1
lions politicians pulled down for selfish ends!
the essential supports of good government.}
and overthrow the liberties of n slumbering i
nation while it was wrapped in dreamless!
sleep.
There are many parallels between the
days of the decay of the Roman state, and!
the present period in the history of the
American nation which give rise to fear; but!
there are none more alarming than the de- i
cline of the concern of the people for the I
national welfare. '
Perhaps in all the history of the Ameri
can Republic the people were never so list
less during a year in which an election for
■president occurred. It has been thought
necessary to put forth special efforts to in
duce voters to go to the polls and vote.
Indeed, the number of non-voting voters
has been steadily increasing for the last
half century.
In an article under the caption “The
Vanishing Voter,” which was published in
a recent number of “The New Republic,” it
was shown that in every presidential elec
tion since 1 856 there has been a constantly}
decreasing ratio of voters to the number l
of persons qualified to vote, till it has fallen
from 84 per cent in the second Lincoln
campaign to 52.36 per cent in the Harding-
Cox campaign of 1920.
In 1920 there were more than 56.000.000 !
persons who were entitled to vote, and Pres
ident Harding was elected with a vote of’
16,150,200, which was more than 2,000,000
less than three-tenths of the voting popula-j
tion of the country. And be it remembered }
in the election was involved the great issue I
of the “League of Nations”—and issue of j
world-wide significance and importance. •
About 40.000,000 voted in favor of the ,
“League! of Nations,” or else did not care !
enough about the matter to vote at all.
If this indifference to great public ques
tions continues, at no distant day, the gov
ernment of the United States—the most >
wealthy and powerful nation in the world—!
will be controlled by a minority of the peo- 1
pie, and that means oligarchical government.;
Os course, the whole number of ballots
cast is always less than the number who
are qualified by law to vote. Aged people,
sick people, and people who change resi
dence just before an election, cause this to
be true. But when all due allowance is
made on this account it remains true that
there is among our people, as it was among
the Romans, a growing- indifference to pub
lic interests.
The waning concern for the welfare of I
the nation is a symptom of a disease of the
heart which cannot be cured too promptly.
It indicates an excessive devotion to material
things and personal concerns on the one
hand, and a deficient sense of responsibility
for the faithful discharge of the duties of
citizenship on the other hand.
maneuver brought her fully a point nearer
to the wind than the Sw'allow, yet, equipped
as she was with half as much canvas again
as Captain Leigh's piratical craft, she was
gaining steadily upon them none the less.
The skipper came back to the poop and
stood there moodily watching that other
ship’s approach, cursing himself for having
sailed into such a trap and cursing his mate
more fervently still.
Sir Oliver meanwhile took stock of so
much of the Swallow’s armament as was
visible and wondered what like were those
on the main deck below. He dropped a
question on that score to the captain, disap
pointedly, as though he were no more than
an indifferently interested spectator and with
never a thought to hi's position aboard.
“Should I be racing her afore the wind if
I was properly equipped?” growled Leigh.
“Am I the man to run before a Spaniard?
As it is, I do no more than lure her well
away from land.”
Sir Oliver understood and was silent
thereafter. He observed a bo'sun and his
mates staggering in the waist under loads of
cutlases and small arms which they stacked
in a rack about the mainmast. Then the
gunner, a swarthy, massive fellow, stark to
the waist, with a faded scarf tied turban
wise about his head, leaped up the compan
ion to the brass carronade on the larboard
quarter, followed by a couple of his men.
Master Leigh called up the bo’sun, bade <
him take the wheel and dispatched the mate
forward to the forecastle, where another gun
was being prepared for action.
Thereafter followed a spell of racing, the
Spaniard ever lessening the distance be
tween them and the land dropping aster/
until it was no more than a hazy line above
the shimmering sea. Suddenly from the
Spaniard appeared a littAe cloud of white
smoke, and the boom of a gun followed, and
afier it came a splash a cable's length ahead
of the Swallow’s bows.
Linstock in hand, the brawny gunner on
the poop stood ready to answer them when
Ihe word should be given. From below
came the gunner’s mate to report himself
ready for action on the main deck and to
receive his orders.
Came another shot from the Spaniard,
again across the bows of the Swallow.
“ ’Tis a clear invitation to heave to,” said
Sir Oliver.
The skipper snarled in hisifiery beard.
“She has no longer range than most Span
iards, said he. “But I'll not waste powder I
yet for all that. We’ve none to spare.”
Scarcely had he spoken when a" third shot
boomed. There was a splintering crash
overhead, followed by « sough and a, thud
as the maintonmast came hurtling to the
deck, and in its fall stretched a couple of
men in death. Battle was joined, it seemed.
Yet Captain Leigh did nothing in a hurry.
“Hold there!" he roared to the gunner,
who swung his linstock at that moment in
preparation.
She was losing way as a result of that
curtailment of her mainmast, and the Span
iard came on swiftly now. At last the skip
per accounted her near enough and gave the
word with an oath. The Swallow fired her
first and last shot in that encounter. After
the deafening thunder of it and through-the
cloud of suffocating smoke Sir Oliver saw
the high forecastle of the Spaniard rent
open.
Master Leigh was cursing his gunner for
having aimed too high. Then he signaled
to the mate to fire the culverin of which he
had charge. That second shot was to be
the signal for the whole broadside from the
main deck below. But the Spaniard antici
pated them. Even as the skipper of the
Swallow signaled the whole side of the
Spaniard burst into flame and smoke.
The Swallow staggered under the blow,
XO\ EM |',ER I. 192 L
Patriotism is not the equivalent, of piety,
but there is no genuine piety into which pa
triotism does not enter as an inseparable
ingredient. No man loves and serves God
as he ought who is insensible to the sacred
obligations which he owes to the land in
which Providence has placed him and the
people who with him inhabit it.
Any token of an enfeebled sense of duty
to one’s country indicates a weakened recog
nition of obligations of all kinds.
Men sometimes speak of “a civic con
; science,” but the words are misleading.
Conscience is something quite indivisible. It.
} speaks with one voice with respect to all
} duties and admits of the application of no
! descriptive terms to its operations such as
} “civic” and like expletives. A conscientious
} man is conscientious in all things. He
} scrupulously renders to Caesar the things
that are Caesar's and to God the things
I that are God’s.
The saints of all ages have been unselfish
, and devoted patriots.
j Moses, “the man of God,” was jealous
I for the honor of Jehovah, and he was not
I less devoted to his people. Hence, he
! prayed for them in a spirit of complete
I self-effacement, “Oh, this people
j have sinned a great sin—; and have made
! them gods of gold. Yet now, if thou wilt
} forgive their sin—; and if not, blot me, I
} pray Thee, out of Thy book which Thou
hast written” (Exodus xxxii:2l).
In like manner St. Paul, the great apostle
to the Gentiles, said' of his Hebrew people,
“I could wish that myself were accursed
from Christ for my brethren, my kinsmen
according to the flesh; who are Israelites;
to whom pertaineth the adoption, and the
glory, and the covenants, and the giving of
the law, and the service of God, and the
promises; whose are the fathers, and of
whom as concerning the flesh Christ came,
who is our all God blessed forever.” (Rom
ans ix:3-5.)
Martin Luther was a German in every
| fiber of his nature, and served mightily his
j native land.
John Knox prayed with fervent faith,
j “Give me Scotland, or I die!”
John Wesley on his deathbed whispered
} prayers for his country and his king.
! It 4s impossible to think these saintly
men would have neglected the duty of vot
ing, if voting had been theirs as citizens of
} the lands they loved.
} In times of war men are ready to die for
their country. Have not they in periods of
I peace duties to their governments just
} real and just as sacred as their obligations
I for service in times of war?
} In the faithful discharge of duty in days
} of peace, unattended by the pomp and cir
• cuinstance of martial combats, there is often
found heroism as lofty as any soldier ever
exemplified.
| To such heroic service of his country
every citizen should feel himself bound
, whenever occasion arises demanding it.
i But lives given to the gathering of pelf
'and the indulgence of pleasure are incapa
ble of such higher service. Patriotism is
suffocated in an atmosphere of mammon
ism; and this is the pestilential breath
which is quenching the vitality of Amer
ican patriotism. It is paralyzing the sense
of duty in the breath of multiplied thou
sands.
The welfare of the nation calls for a re
vival among our people of their languishing
sense of duty. And the quickening of the
I consciousness of civic responsibility can be
brought to pass by nothing less than the
return of the people of God. They are list
less in civil life because they have suffered
an impairment of their religious life.
i The fires on the altars of patriotism are
flickering and failing because the flames of
! faith are burning low.
FROM WITHIN OUT '
By H. Addington Bruce
THE late S. S. Curry, founder of one of
the best schools of expression in the
United States, used to tell his pupils:
“Feel first, express afterwards. You can
not move others unlessf you, yourself, are
moved. Expression must always bb from
within out.”
And in fact this principle, “From within
out,” is one of the soundest of all principles
of action, and applicable to much besides vocal
expression.
It is applicable in every situation where one
wishes to influence people to think and be
have in particular ways. The more one has
behind his plea genuine feeling, the greater
the likelihood of a favorable response. I
When, on the opposite, genuine feeling Is
lacking, to attempt to stimulate it may only
be to invite a rebuff. For insincerity has
various ways of betraying itself, and the
world abounds in people w’ho can intuitively
sense its presence.
That is why, of two salesmen who are equal
ly urbane, amiable, and friendly in demeanor,
the one who is the more sincerely urbane,
amiable, and friendly will, other things being
equal, achieve the better selling record of
the two.
Contrast also the results obtained, in the
one case by a business manager who is hon
estly interested in the well-being of those who
work for him, and in the other by a business
manager merely simulating an interest. The
former will command a loyalty of effort the
latter cannot by any means obtain.
So in all occupations where success depends (
largely on making a good impression on
other people.
To pretend to sentiments one does not feel
—sentiments of good will, unselfishness, ear
nest desire to serve, etc. —may be a compara
tively easy matter. Many selfish pretenders
seem to find it an exceedingly easy matter.
But, however they may smile and smirk
and fawn, they cannot forever hide the in
sincerity of their bearing. People see them
for what they are —cunning self-calculators —
and act accordingly.
Whereas the sincerely unselfish and well
intentioned derive from the very fact of their
unselfishness and their good intentions a
potency of appeal that may more than com
pensate for intellectual defects. It is a com
monplace of daily observation that an at
tractive personality often wins despite occu
pational shortcomings.
(Copyright, 192’4.)
recovered an instant, then listed ominously i
to larboard.
“ roared Leigh. “She's bilging’”!
And Sir Oliver saw the Spaniard standing
off again, as if satisfied with what she had
done.
The mate’s gun was never fired, nor was
the broadside from below. Indeed, that sud
den list had set the muzzles pointing to }
sea; within three minutes of it they were
on a level with the water. The Swallow had
received her death blow and was settling
down.
Satisfied that she could do no further
harm, the Spaniard luffed and hove to, await
ing the obvious result and intent upon pick-j
ing up what slaves she could to men the
galleys of his Catholic Majesty on the Med- ;
itteranea n.
(To P»<» Continued.) I
The Second Mrs. Strong
BY HAZEL DEYD BACHELOR
CHAPTER XXXII
At Harris Fiske’s
ON WEDNESDAY afternoon as Claudia
was dressing in her room, she could
not help admitting a feeling strangely
akin to fear. Such a thing was ridiculous,
she. told herself fiercely. Why on earth
should she be afraid merely because she was
going to tea at Harris Fiske’s studio? Did
she expect him to drop poison in her tea,
and ifxso, why had she promised to go at
all? She managed after a time to argue
herself out of her strange mood, but all the
way in on the train her heart kept beating
very loud and fast, and she caught herself ‘
swallowing several times as though she were
nervous.
“Silly little fool!” She raged to herself.
“You act like an ingenue. Just as though
you .weren’t used to men!”
But was she? Os course she was used to
boys like Eddie Montgomery and Tom Kit
tredge. Boys she had known for ages, and
who for all the fact that they carried hip
flasks and pretended to be wild young
bloods, were, after all, only boys.
Harris Fiske was a man. As a matter of •
fact, he was thirty-four, and there was some
thing about him that exerted a strange fas
cination over Claudia. It was his air of
experience, together with the fact that ,he
was mysterious to her. She knew so little
about him, ahd then that never-to-be-for
gotten moment in his arms! Even now sho
could not remember it without feeling the
hot blood rush into her face, and today she
was to be all alone with him in his studio.
He miight seize her in his arms and kiss her
as he had that night. Claudia wanted him
to do this, even while she dreaded it, and 4
although she did not know it, she dreaded
it because she was afraid of herself.
Fiske's apartment was on East Thirty
eighth street, near Madison avenue. It was
in an old-fashioned building, and as Claudia
pressed the bell, and a moment later pushed
open the door and began to climb the stairs,
she was seized with a momentary desire to f
escape. Almost she turned around and fled,
but then she had reached the first, landing,
and simultaneously the door of an apartment,
opened before her. and Fiske was smiling
reassuringly into her face.
‘‘Well, I'm here,” she announced, walking
in and looking around curiously. There was
certainly nothing sinister about the place. It
was the home of a man, comfortable and a
little shabby, with deep leather chairs, a low
couch piled with pillows and, a well-worn
but expensive Chinese rug. A tabouret was ,
drawn up to the couch and on it were tea »
things, cups and saucers, little cakes, and a
spirit lamp burning underneath a brass
kettle. |
. “Welcome to my domicile,” Fiske was say
ing lightly, and then he was helping to di
vest her of her things and a moment later
was seating her before the tea table.
“Perhaps you'll do the honors,” he sug
gested. “I’d rather like to remember you
here in my rooms, making tea for me, Clan- /
dia.” There was an almost caressing note
in his voice as he spoke, and Claudia found
it almost impossible to answer him flip
pantly. . ’
“You talk as if this might be the last
time you would see me,” she returned, with
an attempt at lightness. “You didn't invite
me here to confess some terrible barrier to
our friendship, did you?”
He smiled aT this. What an enfant ter
rible she was determined to be the callous
young flapper lest some deeper emotion
seize her and she find herself helpless in the
grip of it. There had been response in her 4
that night he had kissed her. She had’been
a woman then! Did she really care for him,
or had that flare of feeling been merely a
flash in the pan, atteq?dll?
CHAPTER XXXIII
The Expected Happens
CLAUDIA found her usual poise shaken 4
by her'nearness to Fiske. Then, too,
there was the knowledge that she was
doing something highly unconventional, that
she was here alone with him and under the
too steady’ regard of his eyes. She finally
rose to her feet, put her cup down and be
gan to wander about the room.
She made a pretense of examining things
here pnd there, picking up a piece of bric-a
brac or bending to scrutinize a picture.
Finally, she stopped beforea. large, hand
carved frame which held a photograph of a
rather handsome woman.
She was gazing .at it, when .Fiske crossed
the room to her, and, because she was mo- ’
mentarily confused, she turned to him with
a question:
“Who is that?”
His eyes followed\her glance and she fan
cied that a look of embarrassment crossed
his face Afterward she felt that she might
have been mistaken, for the look was gone
in a moment. At any rate, he did not an
swer and instead of speaking swept her sud
denly into his arms.
Claudia was conscious of a breathless,
dizzy sensation, a sudden swooping of her
heart as though from fear, followed by a
rapturous surge of emotion. Her heart, ham- I
mered against her breast, she found herself
clinging to him and then her eyes closed as
his lips touched hers. She did not know
how long they clung togegther.
A wave of sick revulsion swept over her.
She was conscious suddenly ert staring at
him with wide eyes, staring at him as
though he were a. stranger and wondering
dully how she could want to be touched by
him one moment and be sick with fear and »
distaste the next.
“Claudia!” His voice was low, caressing.
He made a move to take her once more into
his arms, but she drew quickly back.
“What is it, dear?” he went on softly.
“You care for me more than you '.realize.
Y'ou must care for me! Why, there was
response in every nerve of your body.”
The hot, shamed blood rushed into her/
face. “I don’t know,” she faltered, “I must
think.” She tried to summon back her self
control. to regain her poise. If only she
could laugh, could feel the old self-confi
dence that, had always been Ilers’, but some
how she couldn’t, not while he stood there
looking at her that way, not while she knew
that he had only to touch her, again to make
her respond as she had.
“I must go,” she began desperately.
“Please don’t try to stop me, and I don’t
want you to come with me. I want to be
alone.”
“But. Claudia, I can't let you go like this./ *
Come over here and sit dowi). We must
talk things over. Perhaps I shouldn’t have
done what I did, but somehow I couldn’t
help it. Ever since that night long ago I
have thought about you, wanted to be alone
with you. You're not angry with me, are
you. sweetheart?”
“No,” she said very slowly. “I’m not
angry. I think I must have wanted you to
do it, but I want to go now; I must.”
She was slipping into her coat now and, '
seizing her gloves and purse, was moving
toward the door.
“Please don’t come with me. I can pick
up a taxi right outside the entrance, and I
warft to be alone.”
Without eveji a good-bye, she opened the
door and dnsed it quickly behind her. The
next moment she was running downstairs as
though he were pursuing her all the way.
Thur'dav: “In Spite of Herself.” Renew
your Mib-ri inf ion now to avoid missing a
chapter of this absorbing story.