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THE GEOBGIAH’S MAGAZINE PAGE
Mamed Life the Third Year
SCOLDS HELEN FOR FORGETTING. BUT LEAVES HIS WATCH
UNDER THE PILLOW.
By MABEL HERBERT-TURNER
UNT' >W, you’d better go down and
I everything packed up to-
night. You won’t have any
time in the morning. We ll be at Plym
outh by 5."
"At 5?" Helen turned from the rail
ing. where she was watching the faint
glimmer of a distant lighthouse—the
first sign of land. ' Whl, Warren, they
won't put us off that early?"
“They'll put us off whenever we get
there. I told you they weren’t going
to dock. We’re tn be put off on a ten
der -the ship don't dock until she gets
to Hamburg."
"A tender-Ms that the small boat
which comes out to meet us?"
That's .it. Now. \ou hustle down
am! get things into shape. I’ll have a
smoke and he down a little later.”
It was the last night of the voyage,
and Helen longed to stay up on deck.
Every one was standing around watch
ing the far-off light and talking of the
extreme southern course the ship had
taken to avoid the icebergs, and the
time they had lost.
They all seemed Imbued with the
restless anticipation that comes with
the sighting of land. Only the few
London passengers were getting off at
Plymouth, but those booked through to
Hamburg were equally excited.
Reluctantly Helen went down to the
stateroom to "pack up." She knew
Warren's "j-moke" would end in a game
of whist in the smoking room, where he
spent most of his time during the trip.
But she had hoped that this last night
they would spend on deck together.
Because of the small stateroom she
had tried not to unpack many things,
but one article after another had been
needed during the trip, and now she
found the repacking no small task.
It pas after 11 when, at last, she
was through, bathed and in her berth.
But Warren had not yet come down—
and he still had his things to pack.
She would gladly have done it for him.
but he would never let her. Said he
• ould never find things when she put
them in.
At length there was a heavy step
donn the passageway, and he threw
open the stateroom door. ,
"All through?" as he began to take
off his collar.
"Why, yes. deal, almost an hour ago.
It's nearly 12. isn't it? You know you’ve
everything to pactk, and those steamer
rugs to stran up?”
Now, don't you worry about me. I’ll
have plenty of time for all I’ve got to
do. I told that steward to rout me out
at 4.”
"But. dear.” as he was rapidly mak
ing ready for bed, "you're not going tt>
leave everything til) morning—and
you’ll have to shave, too?"
“Look here —you’re ready, aren't you?
Well, see that you are—and don't go off
forgetting half your things. I’ll attend
to mine.”
And he turned out the light and
climbed heavily into the upper berth.
It seemed to Helen that she had
hardly fallen asleep when the steward
pounded loudly on the door.
“Bath ready, sir. Four o'clock!"
While'Helen was dressing and before
Warren came back from his bath an
other steward knocked at the door.
“Luggage ready for Pylmouth,
ma’am ?’
Helen opened the door and pointed
to her steamer trunk and bag, "These
are ready—but Mr. Curtis hasn’t quite
finished packing yet."
“He'll have to hurry ma’am," as he
dragged hers out. "Almost all the lug
gage is off now.”
“Oh, is the tender here already?”
anxiously.
“She’s been here for an hour. She’s
'round on t'other side."
“Oh. Warren, you’ll have to hurry,"
was Helen’s excited greeting when he
came from his bath. "The tender's
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Millions of people who endure daily
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enough to pul the worst feet in fine con
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I PO
here already—and they're putting on
the baggage!”
Warren grunted something under
his breath, but he began to hurry.
“Can’t I help you? Isn’t there any
thing I can do?"
“Yes. just get out and let me have
wfiat room there is.”
Helen gathered up her hat and veil
and went out into the passage to put
them on. She could hear Warren
moving hastily about.
"Luggage ready, ma'am?" It was the
chief steward this time.
“I—-I think so," she faltered, and
he knocked at the stateroom.
"Luggage ready, sir? Everybody’s on
now. sit. She’s ready to pull off."
The -. >rds struck "terror to Helen,
but Warren threw open the door with
a rough:
"Well, if you put people off at this
outlandish hour you’ll have to wait
till they get ready. Here, you can
take this trunk."
Through the open door Helen could
see Warren thrusting things into his
suit case with more haste than she
had ever seen him exert. His hat was
on the back of his head and he was
unmistakably worried. She longed to
go in and help him, but feared he
would only roar at her to keep out of
the way. Suddenly he called:
“Where’s the shawlstrap?”
"Why. isn’t it there?" rushing in to
find him struggling with the big roll
of steamer rugs and coats and looking
desperately about for the shawlstrap..
“Where’d you put it?" he shouted.
"Why. dear. I didn’t see it: you un
rolled the rugs.”
"Yes, and 1 put it right there on top
of that wardrobe."
Helen climbed up on the berth to
look on top of,the wardrobe. bi\t onl>
a life preserver was there In the
meantime Warren was ringing wildly
for the stateroom stewaid —swearing
under his breath.
Here the chief steward appeared
again at the door. “They're waiting,
sir. The captain says the’ll have to
put off in a moment."
"Well, they’ll not go without us!
We're booked for London and they’ve
got to land us here. It's the line's
fault for putting passengers off at this
indecent hour. Here, you!" as the
stateroom steward rushed up. “We put
a shawlstrap on top of that wardrobe—
what did you do with it?"
"Sorry, sir; didn't see it. sir." and he
began a hurried search.
Now they were all searching—Helen.
Warren, the room steward and the
chief steward. At any other time it
would have struck Helen as irresisti
bly funny—these four people falling
over each other in their frantic search
for a shawlstrap in that tiny state
; room. "
But with the tender wafting and no
way to take the rugs and coats, the
situation was far from humorous.
Now the second officer came to the
door to find out what was the trouble,
and to say the captain could hold the
tender only three minutes longer.
He’ll hold her till we get on.” al
most shouted Warren, "or I’ll raise a
row at your London office that your
whole blame line will hear from!"
Then to the room steward. "Get a rope
and rope up those rugs! No use look
ing for that strap!"
The steward dashed out for a rope,
and in a second two of them were on
their knees tying up the rugs. The
chief steward caught up the rest of the
band baggage and fairly swept them
down to the tender.
Although only a few' of the passen
gers were landing at Plymouth, many
of the others were up to see them off.
And now as Helen hurried on. she
flushed hotly under the many disap
proving eyes. All these people knew it
was for them that the boat had been
kept waiting
Tile tender itself was something like
a ferryboat, and the other passengers,
who with their baggage had come on
board in plenty of time, stood in a little
group at the bow Helen bowed and
smiled to a few she had met on the
trip, but she felt they were talking of
her and Warren, and wondering what
had kept them.
Already the sailors were pulling up
the ropes—in a moment they would be
off There was a heavy morning mist
which obscured the shore and even the
masts of the big ship that still loomed
up beside them.
Just as she began to put off a shout
of "Hold!" went up from the deck, and
Warren's stateroom steward came
rushing down to the railing.
"It’s for Mr. Curtis—Mr. Curtis!" be
cried, as he leaned far ovqv and gave
something to one of the tender officers
just as they swung away.
Every one turned to look at Warren
as the officer handed it to him. Helen
caught the glint of gold—it was his
watch!
Quickly Warren slipped It into his
pocket, but not before they had all seen
or guessed what it was. There was a
geneial laugh, in which he was forced
to.join. as he waved back his thanks to
the steward.
"Your watch!” cried Helen untact
fully. "Oh, where did you leave ft?"
“Under the pillow, I suppose,” he
snapped. “Now. you’ll have something
to harp on for the next six months.”
"Why, Warren, you know I never ’id
| harp on anything. Only you were so
i hurried! If you only had packed las'
I night, and—”
"Packed your grandmother It was
I tiiat infernal shawl strap that made
i the trouble. If you hadn't hidden it
away in one of your 'straightenln-up
manias we’d been all right. Where’d
' you put the blamed thing—that’s what
|I want to know!”
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A Love Song : : : Xr«s Association. **» By Nell Brinkley j
■ia 111 ■■ " ■ . , > —■■ ■ ....! ——
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The Sweetest Music in the World—For Him.
“The Gates of Silence’’
Ry Meta Stmmins, Author of “Hushed Up ’
I— l ■ ■ -
TODAY’S INSTALLMENT.
He nodded dismissal to the clerk and
opened the telegram almost slowly.
Then, as he stared at the blue-pasted
printed slips on the flimsy sheet before
him. his face whitened:
“Dieppe.
“Poor Lumsden died this morning.
Break news to his daughter. All partlcu
lars when we meet this afternoon at
usual place. JEX."
The paper fluttered In Saxes hand
The fool, the mad, clumsy fool, to send
such a telegram as that! Furious rage ar
Jex flamed up in Saxe's heart His face,
as he sat there huddled over the broad
desk, was not pl.easant. To send that
insane telegram that would set every
tongue in England wagging No doubt,
for all he knew. It already was common
knowledge in the office outside, he had
not the least doubt that his telegrams
were opened, even though, as this one
was. they were addressed in full with a
“Private” regally added to the address.
Did the old idiot wish to draw atren
tion to the matter’
Just for a moment the Thought flashed
through Saxe’s mind that Jex perhaps
had sent the news in this odd. public
way out of sheer malice. He sometimes
had his doubts of Jex Suppose the cur
should turn and try to bite?
At the thought a sound escaped from
Paul Saxe's lips that, sounding in his
own ears, brought him upright. He raiseci
his head and looked about the room with
bright, full ice eyes His nerveless cow
bright, furtive eyes His nerveless cow
over him that he should have suffered tha’
spasm of sick fear?
He stood up and, crossing the room
glanced at himself in the strip of mirror :
set above the mantelpiece For a mo- j
ment his aspect startled him. his face
was almost livid, and there were drops
of sweat glistening on his brow As he
stared at himself it almost seemed a-*
though his piqued vanity came to his
aid. helping him to draw himself to
I gether. He went through his private door
into the elaborate dressing room across
the* corridor. Ten minutes later, when.he
came out, there was no trace of his agi
ration visible about him
Indeed, as he walked through the oiitei
offices, the clerks glanced• after him. hr
carried himself so erect and walk'd with
such a swing wearing his silk hat set
lat a rakish angle
“There's something good in the wind
, for m'lord. ’ the office boy whispered to
; <me of the typists who sat near him
‘The Beau Rrummel of Chichester '<>use
is after some igh old game.”
Perhaps ’he angle of his ha’ had read
’ iusted itself when, later in the day , he
reached ’he house by the river, for he
i presented a very sober, not to say chin
i ened, aspec’ to the servant who re- t
rived him She was not <nr«- whethet
| ,cr mistress could set him, she had unb |
returned home a few hours ago and was
very tired. Saxe in his card, on
which he had penciled a few words.
Betty had not been In the Croft many
hours, having only left the Chantrey, at
Kenilworth, that morning There had
been strange happenings at that lonely
house set in a cleft of the downs, hap
penings that had left her tired in mind
and body. She was weary, too, with
apprehension as to what the future might
hold for the man and woman she had
left behind her the blind man raving In
delirium now. who was being nursed by
the wife he had repudiated, and whom lie
would never again see.
She had been thankful to find that het
father had not yet returned from the Con
tinent and now, for Paul Saxe’s card to
be sent in! She glanced at the pencilled
words.
“I am more than sorry to disturb you,”
Saxe had scribbled, “but I am afraid I
must ask you to see me.” The girl felt
as though a hand of Ice had been laid
on her heart H'ad some harm come to
Jack? That was her first thought.
“Tell Mr. Saxe I shall be with him
presently.” she said.
Paul Saxe, waiting in the pleasan’
drawing room of the Croft, found the
waiting more than usually tedious. lie
did not relish the task before him After
leaving his office he had driven down to
Westminster and found Jex now returned.
The news the man had given him had
been more disquieting than the telegram,
which had been oddly delayed in its de
livery. Jex had given rather an ugly
account of Sir George Lumsden’s last
hours. The man had died by his own
hands, it seemed, there were ugly for
malities there might lie inquiries. Paul
i Saxe felt as though Fate, with a giant
hand, had broken those fine-spun fila
ments of his webs in an utterly wanton
destruction.
Then Betty came. She looked wan and,
harassed, and, to do the man justice, i
his heart smote him that he must harass',
her more He looked at her anxiously
and solicitously If this life of strain con
tinued much longer she would lose her
looks: she belonged to that fine grained
type winch shows th** ravages of grief too
cleat ly
"Miss Betty” Even as lie took her hand
and spoke her name the girl had an ap
prehension of some evil She shrank
away from him. looking at him with fur
tively searching eyes.
"What is it has anything happened’*
Oh. I see it In your face' ’Tell me Don’t
try to make things easy for me ”
“Your father.” he began, ami he could
hear her give a short, quick breath of
relief lh> knew what that relief be
tokened. She thought hr had come to
speak of her lover of the man in prison.
His tacc darkened
Almost as though she were ashamed ot
th-:t moment of relief. Betty turned and
•it e<’ ion* <1 him
"What of in} idiiict,'. she asked. j
"I won’t beat about the bush. Miss
Berry,” he said. “Your father is dead ”
The dusk was falling—the cruel, early
gray dusk of a January afternoon, when
Betty Lumsden slipped down the drive
of the Croft. In all that lonely house be
hind her there was no one to say her no,
to question her comings or goings, and
yet as she went she felt like a fugitive
She flying from what? She hardly
knew. From the vague terror that Paul
Saxe’s news had left behind it So far
she had shed no tears for her' father;
there wtMi grief for him in her heart, a
dumb, tearless grief not so much because
he was dead, but because of what he had
become of what had led up to that death
Still, he had been her fattier, and rtiey
had loved one another dearly In the old
• lays, the days before bkiith's marriage,
they had been a very happy family and
at least he had been her protector.
Her protector! As she ran site stum
bled and nearly fell Heaven knew hew
badly she stood in need of a protector
how desolate she was! Paul Saxe had
hinted at unutterable things; but she did
not need his hints her imagination had
been quick to leap to the position in which
she would find herself as the daughter
of a discredited suicide who had left her
no heritage save shame and the harvest
of his debts
That could have been faced, she told
herself. But Saxe had hinted at other
things As she listened to him she
seemed to fee! herself caught in a net
that was being pegged down on every
side of her by relentless fingers He had
spoken, with the utmost delicacy she
conceded so much to him of his desire
to aid and save her, ol how he wished
her to look upon him In the light of an
elder brother until such time as her af
fairs had straight ene<l themselves, or
until her brother-in-law was able to offer
her a home It was that touch which
had frigiitened Betty Paul Saxe must
have known it so well, the true state of
’he relations between herself and her
family and Anthony Barrington
To Be Continued in Next Issue.
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* Little Bobbie’s Pa <
Bv Wiliiam F. Kirk
PA brought up a frend of his to the
house last nite. His frend was a
sw<>! looking man, his naim was
Bernie Doyle
'V ife, s»?d Pa. I want von to meet my
frend Mister Doyle. He is a influen
shal member »>f the Entertainers club,
sed Pa. Mister Doyle, shake hands
with my wife.
I am pleased to meet you. sed Ma to
Mister Doyle. 1 am glad to know that
my husband is being entertained.
Mister Doyle is a grate singer, sod
Pa.
You doant say so. sod Ma.
If you think you know sum.thing
about singers you will readjust yure
idees won you hear Mister Doyle sing;
The Moth & the Plame.
I am all ears, sou Ma. lam used to
being all ears anyway, so I mite as well
heai Mistet Doyle warble. H<* must be
pritty good if he Is the loading spi it
in the Entertainers club.
So then Mister Doyle KO t up & got
reddy to sing. I felt kind of sorry for
him. beekaus I knew that he dident
XZbSrK
fillip
Anty Drudge Tells Why Mary Doesn’t
Object to a Big Wash.
Fath*r -“Just look at the condition of the kids’ clothea!
Where d« you suppoee they piek wp th« dirt? You’ll
have Mary making an awful kiok about the heavy
wash. Why I’ll bet ahe has to do up a doxen dresses
every week for the babies ?”
Andy Drudg* “More than that, son-in-law. I suppose it’s
nearer two doxen. Rut ao long as she has Fels-Naptha
on washday, Mary will never say a word.”
Every mother knows what a lot of fun
the Baby gets out of crawling about the
floor and making its tiny self just as dirty
as a little pig.
But every mother has looked with
alarm at die array of baby dothes to be
washed on M<onday morning.
And every one has seen with despair
how the delicate little garments are cooked
to pieces in the destructive washboiler.
But all that was the Fels-Naptha
wash-way became known.
The F aptha way means thgt
baby’s soiled cLoches are cleansed quieHyin
cool or lukewarm water without the roast
ing fire, summer or winter —without the
seething suds, without the terrific back
breaking mb, mb, mb.
What’s the result? Why—
Fuel saved Tetnprr sy-yd
I ime saved Fabric saved
■ ■ ■ ■—
Insist on the red and grego wrapper,
and follow the printed dkgctioufi.
| UNIVERSITY SCHOOL FOR BOYS I
STONE MOUNTAIN, GA.
...nAUflNlStMir THEJCDu P
UNIVERSITY SCHOOL FOR BOYS is a regular school where boys are taught and not just
compelled to attend claßses. A school fashioned after the old style system of tutoring where in
dividual instruction is given each student; where the finer attributes of a gentleman, not taught
by books, are inculcated; where a sound, healthy body is developed coincident with a broad,
quick mind.
A school where boys are transformed into men equipped, mentally and physically to take up
Life’s duties or given a firm foundation on which to build their education in the higher Institu
tions of learning. This is done by limiting the students to 96; one instructor for every te:» boya.
More than 7 tventy per cent, of the student body, each year, are brothers of former students.
Gh’p r/.r a bay: we'll give you a man.
Handsome Illustrated catalog and information furnished. Addrex.t
SANDY BEAVER, Principal. Box 53 SIONK. MOUNTAIN, QA. |
Shorter Cptteg&n
\ A High Grade /natituhon For Young Women.
j Beautifully located near the Mountains, in the most healthful section of
I .... the not a death in the College during the forty years of its
ex. Hence. Every convenience of niouern home. Only two girls to
< • ‘rooni with-large study between every two rooms. Every building
, <>f re-enforced concrete, absolutely fire-proof, thoroughly modern.
- MRpW 7 < 155 acres in grounds and campus. Faculty chosen from finest
u. American and European Universities. Full Literary Course lead
yTrc mg to A B. degree: unexcelled advantages in Music. Art. Fxprea-
fSlYyi sion. Special attention to Physical Development, Catalog on ra-
C 4'—>x fPpIkWW ?. quest.
VAN HOOSE, President, Rome, Ga.
want tn sing. He was only doing it to
please Pa.
1 will sing the sextette from Lushy,
sed Mister Doyle.
But Pa in-sisted that Mister Doyle
shud sing the Moth & the Flame, so
he started:
Tlie moth & the flame played a gam#-
one day,
The game of a woman's heart.
The moth that played was a maid, thay
sed,
& tlie flame was a bad man’s art.
Ar the moth newer knew, as it flew so
close.
That the light was the light of shame,
A it fluttered away just in time, so
thay say.
That’s the tale of the Moth * the
Flame.
[sent that a impresive sang? sed Pa.
It certingly is, sed Ma. Ma was try
ing to be nice.
Now. sed Pa. wud you like to hear
Mister Doyle sing sumthing else?
I wud npt, sed Ma. .