Newspaper Page Text
THE GEORGIAN’S MAGAZINE PAGE
Daysey,Mayme
and Her Folks
B FRANCES L. GARSIDE.
N SESSION EXTRAORDINARY.
A HAI'NCEY DEVERE APPLE
f T< 'N. age nine, pushed his glasses
up over his bulging brow, cleared
his throat and pounded on the desk
with a baby’s rattle for a gavel.
There was a sudden dying away ot
sHill. childish voices; fat little legs
. ampered across the hall, bearing lit
tle <l. legates to accustomed seats'; there
- ; pull and a push while unusually
and unusually fat little delegates
: ,1I„ d breathlessly into their chairs, a
iiug of little arms across sturdy lit
. . 1. i<ts, and the one hundred and
thirty-ninth session of the Children’s
Congress was in order.
Chauncey Devere Appleton pulled his
glasses over his eyes. Then he low
ered his head and glanced sternly over
them at a sea of little upturned faces.
\]| were serious almost to sadness. The
gravity of the occasion was great, anti
, very little delegate recognized ft. A
crisis was here, and it must be met
squarely and bravely.
"Our parents,” thundered the speaker,
ringing a chubby little fist down on
.. d- -k with a whack, “what must we
u" with them?”
A sigil trembled on every lip. but not I
an eye was turned from the speaker,
our parents, what must we do with
them?" had, alas, been discussed many,
many times, and no answer found!
“I repeat.” said President Chauncey
Devere. “what must we do with them?”
He looked so sternly at Marybelle
Snickers that she felt accused of hav
ing done something with them, though
she knew not what, and began to cry.
Proceedings were delayed while a door
keeper removed her from the room.
Must we continue to deceive them
by letting them believe they have de
lved us? 1 ask” stopping to drink a
glass of- water. “Must we continue to
deceive them by letting them think they
have deceived ns? Discussions are in
order.”
Then he moi,ped his feverish brow
and took his seat, burying his face in
iiis handkerchief after the manner of all
great speakers who are overcome by ■
their emotions.
The Honorable Pcterkin Prim, age |
-i\. slid from his chair to the floor, and
in a voice so fraught with tenderness !
Ids own mother wouldn't have recog
nized it, said:
“I was six months old when I bad my
first Christmas, and I shall never forget
the joy that good woman, my mother,
in telling me that a great big fat
is coming down the chimney with
i ttle. and I would find it in my
,mg i'bristmas morning.
"Ladies mid gentlemen, I had seen
i: y father bring that rattle home three
weeks before, and had heard him tell
i o. mother how much lie paid for it. |
Hut I knew that the deception about J
Suita i 'bins bringing it to me gave!
t o m joy. and J didn't undeceive them!" i
Th-m he climbed up wearily and sat I
d • vn weightily.
Littl, Susie .May Sparkles arose.]
"When 1 was two," she said, “my nioth
■ sat up all night to dress me a doll
i 1 told m n, xt morning that Santa
'l.us brought it down the chimney. I
.r de her happj by feigning belief. She
me more, and more, about this
.cm who came down the chimney. But
i - falsehoods,” with a sigh, "seemed to
make !:< r happy, and 1 did not reprove
her!”
'•tiler delegates gave similar testi
mony. and it was voted, after much
• i ussion, to continue in letting pa
r- uis tell Christmas falsehoods without
rebuke.
"We owe it to this worthy class,” the
resolutions read, "to make them happy,
and if it makes them happy to invent
stories of Santa Claus, we must en
courage them by feigning interest and
faith.”
Then the congress adjourned, the del
egates walking out with bowed heads
and troubled brows.
I
Do You Know—-
i
IT Paris swimming master. Pouli-
Qu<n. accomplished a tctni: (table feat
■"■'•y ;,y remaining 6 minutes 20 see.
null", water. His previous best
’ nance was -1 minutes 31 seconds.
I' illquen seemed quite fresh after
: is exploit, and in proof of it jumped
into tlie water again and -warn 30
yards at full speed.
' ■ ■ lituii ago 27 pel- cent of tile po; -
illation of the great European power
'"re French; today the proportion i
' 'dy 11 percent. Formerly French was
■ most widely spoken language; to
’■"' it is the mother tongir of only
as compared with loO.OuO.OOit
who speak German and 130,000,000 who
■'peak English.
At a musical exposition in Berlin an
invention for increasing the resonance
of the voice was exhibited. It consists
of a film, which is applied to the roof ef
the mouth and acts as a sounding
board. It is Intended for the use of
orators, officers and any one wishing
to increase the reach of the voice, as
"ill as musicians.
blot far from Nlsch, which was re
' ' ntly captured by the allies, is the
crim Tschete Kula, or Tower of Skulk
1,1 ISO 6 the Servians rose against Turk
!'h rule, and r>,oiio of them were massa-
•"d bv the Osmanll. The dead were
("headed, and, as a warning to others,
Turks built, the heads into the walls
' tower, faces outward. Today a
ma 1 portion of a wall remains with a
Hili here and there, a grim reminder
°f wiiat Servin suffer. ■' trade: Ottoman
An Exciting Tale of Love and Adven- UT A TJ t/ XA T X T 1 ie r y °f Play of the Same Name Now
ture That (rrips From Start to Finish 1 JLIIS Vv 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 Collips, managing director
of the Drury Lane theater of
London.)
TODAY’S INSTALLMENT.
CHAPTER I.
PART 1.
Lady Diana Follows the Pack.
TO I.ADV 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 I
pompous and morally bombastic marquis |
of Beverley, had been In no good hu- i
mor. Although Falconhurst, the most
secluded and retired of the several coun
try seats of the family, was filled with
the members of a house party for Lady
Diana Sartoris, Beverley had carefully
j warned them away from the Downs, and
indeed had sent all of them otter hunting
with Captain Grevllle Sartoris, Lady
Diana s cousin.
‘‘And otter hunting of all sports in
the world!” 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.
The reason, Lady Diana knew, of
course. The Whip, the newest racer in
the great stables of Beverley, was being
exercised on the Downs that morning, and
although this expected successor to the
Newmarket winners, Silver Cloud, Fal
eonhurst 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 his 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 l*ady
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 Whip, 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 1 a filly isn t a colt,
any more—rather a young woman of po-
Up-to-Date Jokes
.
"What .sort of a chap Is he?”
I "\\ ell. after a beggar has touched him
I for a dime he’i tell you lie ‘g ive a llt
-1 tie dinner to an acquaintance of his.
She—Let me see the thinnest thing
you have in a blouse.
He—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 in
me; half of it is in Harry.
Schoolmaster—ls I should stand on
my head, the blood would rush tn my
head, wouldn't it? Now, when I stand
on my feet, why doesn’t it rush to my
feet ?
Johnny—Because your feet ain’t
empty.
Mrs. Green —You spoke just now of
social tact. Preeiselj, just, what do you
mean?
Mrs. Wyse—By social tael 1 mean
getting familiar with all sorts of peo
; pie without letting them get familiar
with you.
1 "Did you hear about the defacement
1 of Skinner's tombstone?”
"No; what was It?”
“Some one added tile word 'friends’
■ I to the epitaph."
“What was the epitaph'.'"
’I “'He did his best.’"
Tommy's Aunt—Won't >oil have tui
• other piece of cake, Tommy?
i Tommy (on a visit) —No; 1 thank
> you.
Tommy’s Aunt You seem to be suf
fering from loss of appetite.
i Tommy—it 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."
3 “Yes. it is.”
"But how did he do it?”
“Blew out the gas.”
“Oh! ”
In the 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
h him.
1 "Halloa!” cried the lord. "Put that
, down in your notebook; l have just
drunk a. glass of wine!"
r "I certainly would." was the reply,
1 I saw your lordship drinking a glass
I is «• A N
z 7 SR' . » *7 k\
’**** * X \ \
Mr?' '
MS
kc —Ke"
Lady Diana, "the cleanest sportswoman in England," and the Earl of Brancaster, konwn as the "Wicked Earl.’’
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 put on one of their
exercising expeditions, when to “keep
their scent in” they were permitted to
range for trails under the guidance of
whins.
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 Braneaster, 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 rooky 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 were nut —
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, lAtdy Diana thought
of what her grandfather had told her
when site was a child. It was shortly
after the death In the service of her
father, ami the death of his comrade,
.Robert, the Earl of Brancaster, in the
same Indian engagement. Her father ami
Brancaster, sire of the present Brancas
ter, had planned that the little
Diana and the young Hubert should unite
'the fortunes and lands of the two almost
princely houses. But her father had been
killed and his father, too.
'Phe 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. Ho had not
been a bad nature 1 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 gambled
with nice observance of etiquette and of
honor bur 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 life, but of these Lady Diana know
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 ami 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 ami stables stood.
From the level plateau Immediately above
the glen there floated down to her the
shouts of the lads on the backs of the
prides of the marquis’ stables. Beverh y
had held the for-the-moment jockeys in
stern repression; but the stimulating air,
the vast tonic of nervous horseflesh be
neath their knees and the thrill of mal
motion could not keep the lads entirely
silent.
The fine tire 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 be
again a part of it.
in revolt at the things Hw sh»* dimly
sensed as governors of het whole after
life. Lady Diana set her vunt at the
stifflj- railed fence before her. As the
pack, scenting the fond waiting in the
kennels, swept through the fence, Lady
I Diana went over it.
In midair she saw a picture, vividly and
anxious!? I’ndtr the royal sak at an
artist sketching, though far on one side
the pack streamed through. So intent
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, worse —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 hand sketched.
CHAPTER 11.
The Art Critic.
In a trembling hurry Lady Diana swung
from the saddle. Her mount, disregarded,
was allowed to amble away, and browsed
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, ami a
cloth hat of his suit’s pattern lay a little
way off.
But from beneath and beyond the stran
ger’s features, Lady 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 had seemed to feel about
the house on the hill.
IBs hurt did not appear to concern
him. Indeed, his whole being seemed de
voted to a scrutinizing, an appraising of
her. From her given 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 well schooled.
Without answering, the man stood
watching* her. almost hungrily, yet with
no repulsive effect, and very respectfully.
The girl repeated her inquiry
His 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 1L b<
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 van scarcely hope to be.”
His dvprce.iting motion brought his open
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sketch book nearer the gitl, and her eyes
fell upon its pages.
“Why, there’s the kennels!” she ex
claimed. "Oh! I mustn’t think of your
sketches, but your hurt. lam profoundly
sorry. If I could do anything”—
“A little thing that I can attend to easily
after a bit.” he said—then in courteous
anxiety to turn the current of her
thought he went on: "It really gives
an idea of them, doesn’t it? Kee, here
are some of.the dogs."
In the girl's hand now was the hook.
“I’ve noticed you about sketching for
the past four mornings,'’ she confessed,
turning the pages. "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.
“All, yes—but,” laughed the stranger
merrily.
"1 draw a little myself, you know,”
went on the girl, “and dogs and horses
are rather my strong point.”
There was no pride in her manner, only
the sublime self-confidence of a Sarto
ris of Yorkshire.
She Knows Her Skill.
“And you don’t think they’re mine,”
the stranger said, amusement In his eye,
but his voice perfectly serious.
1 don t say that," resumed the self
confident girl, “but you see—it isn’t quite
right. Look, just here the turn of the
head.”
Again there war ft Jovial light in the
stranger’s smile. “Would you put it
right for me?"
Lady 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 w’e can do.”
In rhe level bit of ground before the
stables she was greeted kindly and affec
tionately by hurrying stablemen, her ar
rival having been announced in away by
iho puck which, without requiring the
guidance of the whips, had rushed to the
feeding troughs.
“Take my horse, one of you, will you?
and some one bring out Dido." she or
dered in a tone that seemed very gracious
t<» the English about her, but would have
jarred upon even an American waiter.
A kennehnan carried out the hound in
his arms ami deposited her near
Diana. With the sketch book on her knee
she indicated with 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
link in the highway that ran by the
c ables.
"How's that?” he asked.
To Remain Incognito.
"Just 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," lie said, with marked hes
itation.
“Whose whose name am T to look
for?” she Inquired, a trace of personal
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
cern.
The personal touch faded from her man
ner and she became again the self-cen
tered, impregnable personality character
istlc 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
salff: “and they’re very good, too That’s
a delicious little bit, and that’s the spinny
where we killed last fall and I got the
brush. And, oh! the old half fortress —
half tower sort of place. It looks as
though It might be"
She was looking toward the seat of the
last Earl of Brancaster in the 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
Ijady Diana. “You see, it belongs to
Lord Branraster, 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 mnch sympathy with artists or
art,” she said.
“Why not?” he asked, his glance for the
moment falling
“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
Englishwoman, w’ho was as yet too im
mature to exercise a fine judging sense,
aroused the artist and he went closer to
the girl.
Continued In Next Issue.
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You Will Want To I
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THE NINTH ANNIVERSARY NUMBER OF THE |
LOS ANGELES “EXAMINER" will be issued WED- ffl
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try, its fruits, its walnuts, its oil production, its beet
industries, its live stock, its cotton, and, in fact, anything
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LOS ANGELES. CALIFORNIA ft
Advice to the
Lovelorn
Ry BEATRICE FAIRFAX.
TRUST TO TIME.
Dear Miss Fairfax:
1 am 20 and love u man 21. While
we were out one evening we had a
little argument, and since that time
wo have not spoken. One day I
sent him a postal, and I think I
Heated him coldly by sending It.
Whenever 1 meet him he turnk
away as if he did not know me. I
love him dearly and am sorry I sent
the postal. BERTHA.
You committed no crime In sending
him a postal, and I hiq>e vou will not
prostrate yourself In seeking his for
giveness. If he loves you he will re
turn voluntarily, in the meantime, show
him and your friends a smiling face.
NO SINCERITY IN HIM.
Dear Miss Fairfax:
I am 20 years of age and haw
been keeping company with a
young man of the same age for the
past year dr more.
Is ft 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 alwaya
acts the gentleman In my company,
but when a crowd of us meet he
goes back to his fast ways. S. R,
You are wasting your time and risk
ing your happiness.
If he were sincere in his desires t®
reform, he would not return to his fast
ways on such slight provocation.
HE 18 FICKLE.
Dear Miss Ffarfax:
I am very much in love with »
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 less
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, you have to expect that. My
wife was like that. Every time she
heard a noise downstairs she’d rout ma
out and send me down to investigate.
After a time, however, I convinced her
that if « burglar did get into the house
he wouldn’t make any noise at all.”
“That’s rather good!" exclaimed the
young one. ”11'11 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
For Infants and Children.
The Kind You Have Always Bought
Bears the
Signature of
