Newspaper Page Text
THE GEOBQIAM’S magazine page
Daysey Mayme
and Her Folks
By FRANCES L. GARSIDE.
|N SESSION EXTRAORDINARY.
HAI’NCET devere apple-
Cl'tiN. age nine, pushed his glasses
up ~ver his bulging brow, cleared
throat and pounded on the desk
A a baby's rattle for a gavel.
* There was a sudden dying away of
( hlldish voices; fat little legs
d across the hall, bearing llt
■gates to accustomed seats: there
; nil and a push while unusually
,‘Ti and unusually fat little delegates
'' ' A breathlessly into their chairs, a
, ng f little arms across sturdy lit
-7 and the one hundred and
e i -ty-ninth session of the Children’s
was in order.
Chauncey Devere Appleton pulled his
, over his eyes. Then he low-
~ h i< head and glanced sternly over
thpm at a sea of little upturned faces.
v] wore serious almost to sadness. The
~ vitv of the occasion was great, and
n little delegate recognized it. A
r o. . was here, and it must be met
siiuarely and bravely.
inn parents,” thundered the speaker,
bringing a ' hubby little fist down on
~ sk with a whack, “what must we
( |o with them?”
x -i«:i trembled on every lip. but not
i -ye was turned from the speaker.
Ihir i ; rents. what must we do with
• l .el. alas, been discussed many,
times, and no answer found!
■ I repeat.” said President Chauncey
Dtverc. ‘what must we do with them?”
fl, looked so sternly at Marybelle
Sni' lois that s'te felt accused of hav
done something with them though
anew not what, and began to cry.
a Hol dings were delayed while a door-
. removed her from the room.
I >t continue to deceive them
Otting them believe they have de-
■ \o,l us? I ask” stopping to drink a
iss of water. “Must we continue to
. ive them by letting them think they
have deceived us? Discussions are in
order.”
Then Im mopped his feverish brow
.iii.i took his seat, burying his face in
is handkerchief after the manner of all
no. it speakers who'are overcome by
their emotions.
The Honorable Peterkin Prim, age
six. slid from his chair to the floor, and
in n voice so fraught with tenderness
:iis own mother wouldn’t have recog
nized it. said:
"I was six months old when I had my
first Christmas, and I shall never forget
>!.■ joy that good woman, my motner,
found in telling me that a great big fat
in.m was coming down the chimney with
.1 new rattle, and I would find it in my
- ricking Christmas morning.
i.adi's and gentlemen. k had seen
' f.ithi r bring that rattle home three
1;< before, and had heard him tell |
y mother how much he paid for it.
lilt I knew that the deception about
<ntn I 'laus bringing it to me gave
■ in joy and 1 didn’t undeceive them!”
T. n he i limbed up wearily and sat
'l' n weightily.
Li-ile Susie May Sparkles arose.
'When I was two.” she said, “my moth
sat up ail night to dress me a doll
■Hi mid me next morning that Santa
' i is brought it down the chimney. I
■ie tier happy by feigning belief. She
'i. me more, and more, about this
an ’.hn came down the chimney. But
e falsehoods,” with a sigh “seemed to
do her happy, and I did not reprove
' ' delegates gave similar testi-
■ and it was voted, after much
ussi.-n, to continue; in letting pa
nes toii Christmas falsehoods without
r buke.
”We i,we it to this worthy class." the
-‘■•lotions read, “to make them happy.
• ini if il makes them happy to invent
tori. -of Santa Claus, we must en
"Ui age them by feigning inti rest and
faith.”
I lien the congress adjourned, the del
egates walking out with bowed heads
aiui troubled brows.
Do You Know—
-1 ■ Paris swimming master, Pouli
'iheb. accomplished a temarkable feat
' mly by remaining 6 minutes 20 see
on'is under water. His previous best
■ m.-iiiee was 4 minutes 31 seconds.
•' l "Uliqu.n seemed quite fresh after
' x.oloit, ami in proof of it jumped
11 ■ tile water again and-».swam 30
yards at full speed.
A century ago 27 per cent of the pop
;ion ~f the great European powers
French; today the proportion is
'• II percent. Formerly French was
‘ most widely spoken language: to
■" '! is the mother tongue of only
1 ' '""i.ooo. as compared with 100,000.000
speak German and 130,000,000 who
S P< ak English.
a musical exposition in Berlin an
’ Mention for increasing the resonance
; he voice was exhibited. It consists
filth, which is applied to the roof cf
' mouth and acts as a sounding
It is intended for the use of
officers and any one wishing
increase the reach of the voice, as
as musicians.
''■'•l fa from Nisch. which was re
-111 ' captured by the. allies, is the
rschete Kula, or Tower of Skull
l'"i> the Servians rose against Turk
■ule. and 5,000 of them were massa
-1 I'V the Osmanli. The dead we.e
' aded. and, as a warning to others.
1 urks built the heads into the walls
•i tower, faces outward. Today a
portion of a wall remains with a
' here and there, a grim reminder
mi S. . via suffered under Ottoman
ssion.
An Exciting Tale of Love and Adven- 4y y r xy TT_TT^Z) ,, Ie Story the Play of the Same Name Now
ture That Grips F rom Start to Finish 1111 SVV 1111 Running at the Manhattan Opera House, New York
By Bertrand Babcock.
(Copyright, 1912. by Drury Lane Com
pany of America, by arrangement with
Arthur Colllna, managing director
of the Drury Lane theater of
London.)
TODAY’S INSTALLMENT.
CHAPTER I.
PART I.
Lady Diana Follows the Pack.
TO LADY DIANA SARTORIS, "the
cleanest sportswoman in all Eng
land”—the orators of the hunt
breakfasts of the Beverley Hounds would
have it so—a fence was merely an ob
stacle. And so after this morning with
the Beverley pack, Lady “Di" on her
return to the kennels of her grandfather,
the marquis of Beverley, found a defiant
pleasure in putting her hunter over every
such obstacle.
Though the day was one of those per
fect Yorkshire days, when rural England
seems made for the sportsman. Lady
Diana's gallop at the heels of the pack
had not been altogether of pleasure.
To begin with, her grandfather, the
pompous and morally bombastic
of Beverley, had been in no good hu
mor. Although Faleonhurst. the most
secluded and retired of tire several coun
try seats of the family, was filled with
the members of a house party for Lady
Diana Sartoris. Beverley had carefully
warned them away from the Downs, and
indeed had sent all of them otter hunting
with Captain Greville Sartoris. Lady
Diana's cousin.
“And otter hunting of all sports in
the world I" Lady Diana had breathed
sarcastically to her maid. “One might
quite as well hunt a bally mouse as an
otter, you know.”
Keeping Stable Secrets.
Tho reason. Lady Diana knew, of
course. The Whip, the newest racer in
the great stables of Beverley v . was being
exercised on the Downs that morning, and
although this expected successor to the
Newmarket winners. Silver Cloud, Fal
conhurst and Beverley's Hope, had not
had her trial and was not likely to have
for some time, the racing marquis was
determined that no strange eyes should
learn anything of the speed pet of bis de
clining years.
Stable secrets had been leaking of late
in regard to some of the others in the
string, but none should respecting The
Whip.
This prohibition had extended to Lady
Diana herself. It was not that through
her there was danger of the betting ring
getting advance information, but the
young girl who shared almost equally in
Beverley's affection for The W hip, could
not have been with the promising filly
and her contemporaries without being
upon the back of the speediest.
For the girl rode The Whip or any of
the other racers in the Beverley stables
as Diana of old hunted, with divine in
spiration.
“But the little filly's growing up—or,
rather, my granddaughter. Lady Diana,
is growing up.” the marquis had said
more than once, "an l a filly isn’t a colt,
any more—rathef"a young woman of po
Up-to-Date Jokes
“What sort of a chap is he?”
“Well, after a beggar lias touched him
for a dime he’l tell you he ‘gave a lit
tle dinner to an acquaintance of his.
She —Let me see the thinnest thing
you have in a blouse.
jje—She's gone out to lunch, madam.
“And so. after inviting your friends
to a game dinner, you were not served
with any part of the bird?'
“Oh, yes—l got the bill!"
“She's as pretty as a picture." said
the young man.
“Yes," replied the young woman, with
a glance at her rival’s complexion:
"and hand-painted, too.”
“You are a very naughty boy. Tom
my for stealing one of those tarts out
of the pantry. I didn’t think it was in
you.”
Tommy—Oh, mother, it isn't all >n
me; half of it is in Harry.
Schoolmaster— If I should stand on
my head, the blood would rush to my
head wouldn't it? Now. when I stand
on my feet, why doesn't it rush to my
feet? ,
Johnny—Because your feet am <
empty
Mrs. Green—You spoke just now of
social tact. Precisely just what do you
mean?
Mr=. Wyse—By social tact I mean
getting familial* with all sorts of peo
pie without letting them get familiar
with you.
"Did you bear about the defacement
of Skinner's tombstone?”
“No: what was It?”
■ Some one added Hie word ‘friends'
to the epitaph.”
i -What was the epitaph?”
“ ‘He did his best.' ”
Tommy's Aunt—Won’t you have an
other piece of cake, Tommy?
i Tommy (on a visit! —No; 1 thank
i you.
Tommy’s Aunt—You seem to be suf
fei ing from loss of appetite.
i Tommy—lt ain't loss of appetite.
‘ What I’m suffering from is politeness.
■ "You say he died from a single blow
, administered by himself?
> “Certainly.”
, "But it isn't possible.”
i "Yes, it is."
“But how did he do it?"
“Blew out the gas.”
“Oh!"
In tlie days when parliamentary re
porters were'regarded by the members
’’ as impertinent Intruders, a certain no
ble lord was standing at one of the
' bars drinking, when he saw a newspa
• per man near, apparently observing
, ' Halloa!’' cried tile lord. "Put that
down in your notebook; I have just
1 drunk a glass of wine!”
"I certainly would." was the reply,
i "if I saw your lordship drinking a glass
of water."
l\
.jo-
MBW
• ‘s
Lady Diana, “the cleanest sportswoman in England,” and the Earl of Brancaster, konwn as the “Wicked
Scene from the play of “The Whip.”
sition and rank isn’t a girl, and she real
ly can’t ride with the lads of my sta
ble.”
So Lady Diana, in the warm rebellion
of youth, at the first trammeling appear
ance of that convention which ultimately
molds us all until we lose our little dis
tinguishing essence and become as so
many peas, was irritated by this abrupt
separation from the things of her child
hood.
In Peevish Mood.
Hence this finely strung, perhaps ordi
narily too emotionless, young English
woman took the highest and roughest of
the obstacles in her course as she fol
lowed in the wake of the Beverley hounds.
For the hounds were not the features of
a hunt, but merely out on one of their
exercising expeditions, when to “keep
their scent in” they were permitted to
range for trails under the guidance of
whips.
One of the obstacles which Lady Diana
took that morning was a stone fence that
separated the lands of Falconhurst from
the property of the Earl of Brancaster, in
the midst of which stood the old stone
tower, Ricvers. As her hunter cleared
well with all fours the fencing and for
a moment trespassed upon the lands of
one regarded by the simple folk of York
shire as “the wicked earl,” the girl looked
toward the rocky heights accentuated by
the feudal tower, continuing to the eye
the long ascent of stone upward.
To her mood of the moment, while Ric
vers appeared less barren and more the
abode of a human being, still there was
the sinister atmosphere of a place of ill
omen, which was not decreased by an
open window and the movement of a
hanging at one of the casements in the
more modern part of the structure.
Even with the evidences of a home life
about the tower —which there w’ere not—
the place would have worn its air of sul -
len tragedy, its seeming appearance of a
center radiating unwholesome forces.
The Father’s Plan.
Then as she cantered along over a
level expanse skirting the eminence upon
which Ricvers stood, and cast a glance
upward occasionally, Lady Diana thought
of what her grandfather had tol<l her
when she was a child. It was shortly
after the death in the service of her
father, and the death of his comrade.
Robert, the Earl of Brancaster, in the
same Indian engagement. Her father and
Brancaster, sire of the present Brancas
ter, had planned that the little Lady
Diana'and the young Hubert should unite
the fortunes and lands of the two almost
princely houses. But her father hud been
killed and his father, too.
The young earl, without the repressing
authority of a parent, had begun life as
a boy with too much money and no sense
of responsibility. His mother had died
soon after he was born. He had not
been a bad natured lad. but as a little
boy he had been precocious. What, under
proper training, would have been clean,
clear, pure sportsmanship as thorough as
that of Lady Diana herself, became in
him a mere gaming spirit. He
with nice observance of etiquette and of
honor but still he defied chance. As a
result he got into the hands of the money
lenders and what wasn't entailed was
mortgaged
There were women, too, in this young
man's l|fe, but of these Lady Diana knew’
nothing. But though they came and went,
they never seemed to have penetrated to
the core of the young Hubert to infect
him with the virus of diseased Imagina
tion. The ‘boy seemed asleep and too
good natured to put his house in order.
His friends predicted that if he ever real
ly aroused himself he would rid himself
of them effectively, cleanly and finally.
The Excited Jockeys.
Dismissing the supposedly dissolute,
young belted earl from her thoughts. Lady
Diana came to the last fence which sep
arated her from the glen in which the
Falconsuhrst kennels and stables stood.
From the level plateau immediately above
the gfeti there floated down to her the
shouts of the lads on the backs of the
prides of the marquis’ stables. Beverley
had held the for-the-moinent jockeys in
stern repression; but the stimulating air,
the vast tonic of nervous horseflesh be
neath their knees and the thrill of nial
motion could not keep the lads entirely
silent.
The fine fire of It all kindled Lady Di
ana. In the light of her girlhood experi
ences only such sounds as came to her
from the Downs were needed to create
pictures of the scenes above* her. She
know it. She loved it. She wanted to he
again a part of It.
In revolt at the things that she dimly
sensed as governors of her whole after
life, Lady Diana set her mount at the
stiff 1? railed fence before her As the
pack, scenting the food waiting in the
kennels, swept through the fence. Lady
I Diana vent over it
In midair she saw a picture, vividly and
anxiously Under the royal oak sat an
artist sketching, though far on one side
the pack streamed through. So iiftent
was he on his outline of the kennels and
mushroomed stables that he gave no at
tention to the hounds and apparently was
not conscious of the approach hurtling
through the air—of the lady on her pal
frey.
The original impetus of Lady Diana’s
leap would have carried woman and horse
squarely into the person of the artist.
But the moment the girl had seen him a
paralyzing inhibition had stayed the force
of horse and girl almost in the air, and
both lost their carrying power, making a
very bungling finale of what had been
originally a very fine movement.
But as it was, the easel, made on the
moment by the artist out of twigs and
dead branches had been shattered by a
movement of one of the hunter's, sleek
legs, and. w’orse —an iron-shod hoof had
made an ugly mark upon the artist’s left
wrist, which had lain at rest on the moss
while his right ha ml sketched.
CHAPTER 11.
The Art Critic.
In a trembling hurry Lady Diaiia swung
from the saddle. Her mount, disregarded, I
was allowed to amble away, and browsed j
without restraint.
“Oh, I'm so sorry pray tell me that
you’re not hurt —severely,” she. said. *and
raised her eyes to the stranger's face.
She saw clean-cut features, black eyes
with just a shade of amusement -of whim
—ln them, though there must have been
pain in the wrist and wavy, black hair.
The man was in rough tweeds, and a
cloth hat of his suit’s pattern lay a little
way off.
But from beneath and beyond the stran
ger’s features. Lads' Diana Sartoris got ,
her impression of the man. There were :
sadness, wistfulness, a sense of the decay
of a fine nature, the same look of trag
edy that she bad seemed to feel about
the house on the hill.
His hurt did not appear to concern
him. Indeed, his whole being seemed de
voted to a scrutinizing, an appraising of
her. From hy green little hat and her
long green coat, he turned to note that
cold perfection of her features, that fair
chiseling which, with her perfect health
and consequent confident poise, made
this young woman at times seem to self
centered, to w'ell schooled.
Without answering, the man stood
watching her. almost hungrily, yet with
n<> repulsive effect, and very respectfully.
The girl repeated her inquiry.
Hie Persiflage.
“Not a bit,” he returned carelessly.
“It was really very stupid of me not to
have noticed a pack in ful cry for its
kennel feeding and so inspiring an ob
ject as their mistress. '
He had covered his hurt with his hand
kerchief and knotted and twisted it be
fore the girl could offer to minister to
him.
“Such absorption can only be excused
in a very great artist, and such 1 assure
you I can scarcely hope to be.”
His deprecating motion brought his open
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The Georgia Savings Bank and Trust
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sketch book nearer the girl, and her eyes >
fell upon its pages. *
"Why, there’s the kennels!" she ex- (
elaimetl. "Oh! I mustn’t, think of your t
sketches, but your I am profoundly
sorry. If I could do anything” .**
“A little thing that I can attend to easily a
after a hit," he said then tn courteous J
anxiety to turn the current of her
thought he went on: “It really gives
an idea of them, doesn’t It? See. here
are some of the dogs."
In the girl’s hand now was the book.
“I’ve noticed you about sketching for ‘
the past four mornings," she confessed,
turning the “And, ah, see, here's [
Dido!” '
With a laugh the artist answered:
“I’m glad it’s good enough to recog
nize.”
"Oh. yes: hut " she began and hesi- '
tated. *
"Ah, yes—but." laughed the stranger
merrily.
“1 draw a little myself, you know,"
went on the girl, "and dogs and horses J
are rather my strong point.” r
/I’here was no pride in her manner, only
| the sublime self-confidence of a Sarto- 1
1 ris of Yorkshire.
She Knows Her Skill.
"And you don’t think they're mine," j
the stranger said, amusement in his eye,
but his voice perfectly serious.
I don't say that," resumed the self- '
confident girl, "but you see—it isn’t quite 1
right. Look, just here- the turn of the ‘
head.” 1
Again there was a jovial light in the
stranger’s smile. "Would you put it •
right for me?"
Diana caught the bridle of her
.
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horse and strode toward the stable.
“Come along, then.” she said imper
sonally, “and we ll see what we can do.”
In the level bit of ground before the
stables she was greeted kindly and affec
tionately hj hurrying stablemen, her ar
rival having been announced In away by
the pack which, without requiring the
guidance of the whips, had rushed to the
feeding troughs. x
“Take my horse, one of you, will you?
and some one bring out Dido,” she or
dered in a tone that seemed very gracious
to the English about her, but would have
jarred upon even an American waiter.
A kennehnan carried out the hound in
his arms and deposited her near Lady
IMana. With the sketch book on her knee
she indicated witn her riding crop, Dido.
“Can you manage to hold her.’” she
asked.
The stranger, taking the hound, seated
himself on the corner of the stone bridge
; that spanned a little stream and was a
1 link in the highway that ran by the
stables.
“How's that?’’ he asked.
To Remain Incognito.
“.hist a little more round,” she re
turned. “So! That's capital!” Then
busied herself with her pencil.
“Do you exhibit?" she asked, turning
upon him for a second an oblique look,
then another upon the drawing.
“Very little.” he said, with marked hes
itation.
"Whose—whose name am 1 to look
' for?" she inquired, a trace of personal
i Kindliness in her glance.
“I’d rather not give my name—until
I've done more for my reputation,” he
, said a trifle awkwardly and in some con
jeern.
The personal touch faded from her man
ner and she became again the self-cen
tered, impregnable personality character
istic of the Englishwoman or man at will.
"Oh. as you like," she said. Then,
holding out the sketch toward him, she
went on: “There, look, how's that?"
“By Jove, it’s splendid. What magic
you can work with just a touch or two,"
he exclaimed.
She made him a little bow. with some
thing not hostile in it. and began quickly
to turn the pages of the book.
“Oh, you paint landscapes, too." she
said; “and they’re very good, too. That’s
a delicious little bit, and that’s the splnny
where we killed last fall and I got the
brush. And, oh! the old hall fortress —
half lower sort of place. It looks as
though it might be”
She was looking toward the seat of the
last Earl of Brancaster in tne distance,
dimly visible up the glen.
“The Ricvers," the stranger finished
her sentence. “It is. Haven’t you ever
been there?"
"Nobody about here goes," returned
Lady’ Diana. “You see, it belongs to
Lor<l Brancaster, and he hardly ever
visits it, though I've heard he’s here now
Did he give you permission to sketch It?"
The stranger nodded.
“The Wicked Earl.’’
"I shouldn’t have thought he would
have had much sympathy with artists or
art," she said.
“Why not?" he asked, his glance for the
moment failing.
"His tastes are rather er—notorious.
I’m afraid he’s rather a by-word—about
here. Even the county people call him
■The Wicked Earl.’ "
The thoughtless words of this young
English woman, who was as yet too im
mature to exercise a tine judging sense,
aroused the artist and he went closer to
the girl.
Continued In Next Issue.
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THE NINTH ANNIVERSARY NUMBER OF THE
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It syiH tell you about its farming possibilities, its poul
try, its fruits, its walnuts, its oil production, its beet
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The information will be accurately and entertainingly
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jLosAngeles "Examiner,’' ' - - -
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Enclosed please findcents, for which you will
( please send the Ninth Anniversary number of your paper to '
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Los Angeles Examiner
LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA
Advice to the
Lovelorn
4r--
By BEATRICE FAIRFAX.
TRUST TO TIME.
Dear Miss Fairfax:
I am 20 and love a man 21. While
we were out one evening we had a
little argument, and since that time
we have not spoken. One day I
sent him a postal, and I think I
treated him coldly by sending it.
Whenever I meet him he turns
away as If he did not know me. J
love him dearly and ain sorry I sent
the postal. BERTHA.
You committed no crime in sending
him a postal, and I hope you will not
prostrate yourself in seeking his for
giveness. If he loves you he will re
turn voluntarily. In the meantime, show
him anil your friends a smiling face.
NO SINCERITY IN HIM.
Dear Miss Fairfax:
I am 20 years of age and have
been keeping company with a
young man of the same age for the
past year or more.
Is it safe for me to go with him.
as he was always In the habit of
keeping fast company, and has only
seemed to settle down since he
made my acquaintance? He always
acts the gentleman in my company’,
but when a crowd of us meet he
goes back to bls fast ways. 8. R.
You are wasting jour time and risk
ing your happiness.
If he were sincere in his desires to
reform, he would not return to his fast
ways on such slight provocation.
HE IS FICKLE.
Dear Miss Flarfax:
I am very much in love with a
soldier boy, who seems to have for
gotten me since he enlisted the
third time.
We became acquainted after he
had served his second term. He
seemed to care for me while here,
but since abroad, has grown cold.
He wrote me at first, but has ceased
writing. F. K.
There Is no time so tragically wasted
as that spent in trying to warm up a
love that has grown cold.
He doesn’t care for you. Do call your
pride to your assistance and think Jess
of him.
SAME EFFECT.
"My wife." said a young Benedict, "is
so exceedingly nervous at night that
she scarcely sleeps at all."
“Burglars?” asked an old married
man.
"Yes."
"Well, yon have to expect that. My
wife was like that. Every time she
heard a noise downstairs she’d rout me
out and send me down to investigate.
After a time, however, 1 convinced her
that if a burglar did get into the house
he wouldn't make any noise at all.”
"That’s rather good!” exclaimed the
young one. “Il'll try that."
"Don't do it,” pleaded the other; “for
if your wife’s anything like mine she’ll
worry every time she doesn’t hear a
noise downstairs!”
CASTOR IA
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