Newspaper Page Text
w
—-~~
"I
■ ■
TTTK ATLANTA ULOLr.TAX AND XKWS. MONDAY, APRIL 28. 1913
THE BAPTISM
OF FIRE
The Dingbai Family
The Juice Raised the Deuce
Copyright, 1913, Tn'rrnational X«ws Rerri^e
To-day’s Complete Short Story
I T had seemed to me at the time that
I ©ouhi do the thin* in entire afo-
ty Our troops were ordered out to
take and destroy a village which iay
In the valley by the riverside, and their
operations would be confined to the
lower ground. The heights above would
be entirely untroubled, unoccupied.
A l had gained these, after 'Valle
jo dies over gentle slopes of short
,r*as, and then had lain me down
v. e ridge and watched the skirmish
ing, the attack, and the capture through
a pair of glasses
From a distance it had all seemed
very tame. There were little puffs of
gray smoke, men fell, others came on
at run, zigzagging in and out In entire
disorder, made their weapons a*»1 ac
coutrements glitter in the sun, and they
disappeared under cover of the mud and
bamboo village.
More smoke arose In puffs from the
lories between the houses. And then a
stream of Black Flag Chinese began
to pour out at the run, some of them
pitched forward and Jay still, and tl|e
others opened out to pass these by, and
ethers limped and lagged bthlnd the
general r»c« and quite Irregular cradk
W> from the vITtage, like the burning of
brush-wood, told me what waa causing
these things.
But wtwm the Balck Flags were oat
of'tango and the firing ceased the val-
igfi dropped Into dreed quietude and
djewewas nothing more to see. I yawped
<yver ft far another haJl-hottr and then
waited a dozen yards down the *iope,
smelted a couple* of cigarettes and began
not dedenner The regiment eft Black
Flags which oatne down upon me must
h*r© alerted olhnblng the M71 fnce the
scry rafcnute I quitted the ridge
Ban Like a Dog
Instinct; as I say, jerked me to my
feet, and instinct must bswe given me
a prodigiosan start, far when first my
wits ofuns to me I found myself run
ning like a frightened dog.
It seemed os If ten million bullets
whisked paet roe. and I had a notion 1
sos hit In twenty places. But nothing
etottewl rar legs, and although my heart
was trying to Jump dear of Its moor
ings I ran on at a freshened pace
Thera wasn't a more terrified men In
Asia that rod note The shots came drop
ping after me; shots and cries In bar
barous Chinese, and fhe world swam In
front
Terror, undiluted, made me a running
automaton.
Beyond a doubt the most cowardly
Frenchman In the Fast that moment
waa myself I did not attempt to con
trovert this fact; I ran on. cringing
from evetr bullet that rustled past me
or spurted up the ground beside my
leaping feet; but I sought to find ex
cuses for my conduct.
For good behavior they had raised
me from the ranks to a non-commis
sioned officer
How long i ran on tn this blinded
ata’o 1 cannot tell; but a sharp sting
of pain set my wits a-going It felt
like the sear of hot metal burning and
frying, and the hurt came somewhere
from the round of the left shoulder.
instantly my mood woke again. flVjr
the first time there grew upon me a
vague resentment against the crew who
were yelping and firing in chase; and
as I scurried on. and the ill-aimed bul
lets threw’ their rushing halo of sound
around my head and limbs, this in-
ereated to a wild, poisonous hate.
Remembered My Revolver.
Then, for thj first time, ,1 remeni- I
nered my revolver. With bungling !
fingers I unholstered it, and, turning,
fired six rapid shots. One man clapped
hands to hia face, screamed Rhrllly
like a child and pitched to the earth, |
his pigtail swung up in the air as
Thought it had been a black whiplash.
1 wijs no longer a French gentle* i
man then—I was a savage beast, lust ,
fui to tear my enemies' throats.
I turned again and fired on A whole
fusillade of vengeful shots were ex
changed in return, but none of them
found a mark in me, and I laughed
aloud In triumph. Whatever happened
now I had killed my own weight of
enenxg.
But, as I sny, I wanted desperately
to do more, and now that the paralysis
of terror and excitement had flashed
away my mind was beginning to
work with craft and cunning. Ahead
of me and running athwart my course
wag a muddy wallow they called the
road and which our troops had pass
ed along barely three hours before to
the capture of the village To the
left were the French lines and safety.
In front, and a hall's throw beyond
the road. was the yellow turbid
stream of the river.
It was impossible to reach the camp
even had I risket* it. The Black Flags
had anticipated the move and had de
tailed off a party to outflank me in
that direction By turning off to the
right I might very well bring down
the enemy upon our expeditionary
force on their march back from the
village They might be prepared to
receive them, and again they might j
not, and I would have died ten times i
sooner than any move of mine for in>
own safety should bring disaster on
my comrades. OUr branch of the,
service gets Rneerod at enohgh as
ft is
Shots Thick and Fast
Bo I raced on for the road and
passed it, and labored down t" the
river. The shots came fast and thick
now, and two more bullets galled me.
but I waded through the shallows
wdthout further hurt and gained the
deep, tawny river beyond.
A sampan was moored a hundred
yards out and a little downstream
i made for it with long, bursting
dives. There were half a dozen men
on board, jumping, gesticulating, and j
crying • warnings, and once. wLm I
came up from an underwater swim, one
of them let fly a match lock at m*
Another dive and I was upon them.
-and h<rw the fight turned next 1 - ••uld
not tell. But of a sudden, with a blink
and a gasp and a downward blow 1
came by my wits again, and found that
] was on board the sampan with a cur\
e*i Chinese sword in my ha ml; and one
man lay dead and bleeding at my feet,
another was dead and floating far*
downwards with a current astern. Vnd
the rest were swimming to the shor« .
and twenty Black Flags were firing over
lheir heads as fast ns they could
My pistol was gone and 1 could do
no more on the offensive. The wish
for fight had left me; the lust for
life alone remained. J cut the painter
and la\ on the sampan's bottom,
whilst she drifted down with the cur
rent into our own lines.
And yet my officers were pleased
.to call me brave, and the general
save me the war-medal 1 tried to
refuse it. but they laughed at me
A vedette fit seemed) had watched
me through a glass from the moment
of the first shot being fired, and they
said no man could have behaved more
piuckiJy. •
boto'H M3U t>AST HAT\
That Sour 'Lbmon (
in MV FftESEA/Cfc/
V Vov T/nch
| Do Alor TftiPi.iL wfTH TheX
Affections of The. Lowlv
lb-mokj MV Dove THEfte. is
\/MUCM "TB CEACN FROM >T
\ bit Isaac NfewTSn' You KVouA
I GAftVEftED MIK.H info FftOM ]
l A AlEftE. AFPIE. -VCP.^-
liT (5 AidT HAAJDSO/ME-, I AD/MiY
>N0k Does it engage iai Thh.'
(GRACEFUL LCMK)OLvTlO/&b OF C ■”
PERFSICHOftE , AlOft Does IT SHWtL)
in Poses Poastique. Bor / -
I PPAV You DMUl NEAR AND\
Give it a Close. Look —)
>■
Oaf
if There is qne. Spot on
i Tuts *tAwsr UjHEfte. i wovlk
eTmis Eve. kCAry
a Dear old
hsfeK ttow‘
! twfte ‘
„,)T i s
MARK'S-kotJTMC
I SAV Pooh- Pooh (_
That There s')
ompfts
/OTH EA.S OTHERS \
; What others' *
T
SHED-Roe
fGArATz." A/nr
So WOftSEft, )
All ABoAftpjT) ^ /
- J f/1
-m -
Polly and Her Pals
Even the Worm Will Hide
Copyright, 1913, International New* Service.
By Cliff Sterrett
3rV!WD UP Au 1 LEM ME
Fit This Skirt o»j
VOu, Ffc>U-Y I ’
WAUfJA VJi/tAR.
n Tomiorpow/!
1 6otta
HEAD Ache, MA,
LET DtUClA
DO it!
\OtL\afe Done All
The MouSf.u'/ork
JuSt SdS ICould
‘Sew, ah' ‘She’S'
I vy/or? out*
MV HEART |
BLEEDS' TOR.;
SfcxJ MA,
But i'll
HAV/E To
PA& l
m' SoMEBODVS
SoTU DO IT OR
iu Know
WHV !
Tn
3 \\
JL
E
Us
Boys
§.
No More “Port” or “Starboard”
All “Left” and “Right”
Ileg'.ttered United States Patent Office
LJ‘
By Tom McNamara
I HEAR THE
STARFISH 6iANTs> 14
60IN‘ TO 6ET A BRAND
MEW PITCHER !
7
l HEAR HE'S \ Z; 7
A PORT ffi
SlDER. fj f 1
VhiuAKB D?, YOU
MEAN LEFT
tSIDERlr- -
AIN'T CHA 6OT NO
‘ EDSCATEM ? * /
Tn* i don't, i
/ MEAN PORT
( SI PER 1 . K *
(“DOnT CHA
AI NT NO
KNOO) THERE
SEC H AM/NAL
no more^thf secretary
OF THE NAVY &AYSJ
SO.'
- 7 .V
SKINNY
60061T DEPARTMENT
SHAN6R4 NO. 3
EASY
DRAWING
LESSOWG
SNTOKE
C Black )
Q'MLMJl £
which Fish has his
£ies nearest ro-
(sBThEH. ? - TV€ SMALLEST
FISH OF COURSE 0W
CERTAINLY. SDRE ANY
BODY kwoius that;
JLl
fttiJULQj tfr-d&iAVj
FR.0M 0
AJ1LLARD MACK - u.s. A.
WHY CANT 'too NEUER
TELt WHERE? A PtM
\S 60/M6 TO ?
AOSiusR TD-f90R*ouj
Tragedy and the Movies
By MALCOLM DOUGLAS
it ¥ ^ AS with Booth, the mighty.
But Booth, aids, is dead!
So now I am with the mo
vies.*’
The old tragedian said.
“In Chamberaburg and Bottstown,
And likewise Kokomo,
You can view me classic features
At 5 and 10 a throw
“I was with Booth, the mighty.
But Booth has long been dust.
So 1 get me rakes and coffee
From the moving Picture trust.
Shakespeare thou wast me idol,
But thee I hadst to can ;
Me, oh. Bard, for the movies;
Me for the camera-man!''
CLEEK OF THE FORTY FACES
Not What Pa Meant.
Hr :’s Youngest—Don't your shoes
feel very uncomfortable when you
walk. Mrs. Xuryehe?
Mrs. Nurych—Dear me, what an
extraordinary question! Why do you
ask. child'*
Host's Youngest—Oh. only 'cos pt
said the other day. since you’d come
into your monex you'd got far too bi^
for your boots*.
By T. W HANSHAW
Copyright by Doubleday, I’age A Co.
TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT.
H E did so forthwith; and the mo
ment the dry leaves fell on the
remnants of the tire which the
caravanners had used to cook their
evening meal, there was a gush of
aromatic smoke, a sudden puff and
then u broad ribbon of light rushed
upward and dispelled every trace of
darkness. And by the aid of that rib
bon of light Mr Nippers saw some
thing which made him almost collapse
with astonishment and chagrin.
Recognition.
The great of the world may—-and
often do forget their met tings with
the small fry. but the small fry never
cease to remember their meetings
with the great or to treasure a vivi 1
remembrance of that immortal day
when they were privileged to rub el
bows with the elect.
Fivt years had passed since Mrs.
.Maverick Nurkom. -v* king a place
wherein to spend the summer holidays
with the little Xarkoms and their
nurses, had let her choice fall upon
Lvnhaven-Old-Bridges and had dwelt
there for . two whole moiiths. Three
times during her sojourn her liege lord
had come down for a week-end with
his wife and children, and during
one of these brief visits, meeting Mr.
Kphraim Nippers, the village consta
ble. in the public highway, had
deigned to stop and epeak to him and
to present him with a sixpenny cigar.
Times had changed since then. Mr.
Nippers was now’ head constable for
the district, but he still kept that
cigar under a glass shade on the
drawing room what-not. and he still
treasured a vivid recollection of the
great man who had given it to him
and whom he now saw sitting on the
ground with his coat off and his
waistcoat unbuttoned, his mustache
uncurled and wisps of dried grass
clinging to his touseled hair and all
the dignity of office conspicuous by
its absence
"Oh. lummy.” said Mr. Nippers with
a gulp. Put down the hammer? of
them guns, you two—put ’em down
quick! rt’s Mr. Xarkoni Mr Mav
erick Xarkom. superintendent of
Scotland Yard!"
■Hullo!'' exclaimed Mr Xarkom.
shading his eyes from the firelight
and leaning forward to get a clearer
view of the speaker. “How the dick
ens do you know that, my man? And
who the dickens are you, any way?
Pan t say that I remember ever see
ing your face before.”
Mr. Nippers hastened to explain
that little experience of five years
ago; but the circumstances which
had impressed itself so deeply upon
his memory had passed entirdj out
of the superintendent’s.
Just Discovered.
"Oh. that’s it, is it?" said he. “Can't
say that I recall the occasion; but
Mrs Xarkom certainly did stop r,
Bynhaven-Old-Bridges some four *r
five summers ago: so. of course, it's
possible. By the wav. my man. what
caused you to make this sudden
descent upon us? And what are-these
chaps who are with you bearing arms ^
for? Anything up?”
“Oh, lummy, sir, yes! A murder’s
just been committed, sir—leastwise
it's only just been discovered; but it
can't have been long since it w is
committed. Mr. Xarkom. fof Miss
Renfrew, w ho found him. sir, and give
the alarm, she says as the poor dear
gentleman was alive at a quarter o
right, 'cause she looked into the room
at that time to ask him if there was
anything he wanted, and he spoke up
and told her no, and went on with his
figgerin* just the same as usual.’’
“As usual?” dropped in Cleek. “Why
do you sa> 'as usual,’ my friend? Was
the man an accountant of some sort?”
'Lummy! no, sir. A great inventor
is what he is—or was. poor gentle
man. Reckon you must a heard of
him some time or another—’most ev
erybody has Nosworth is the name,
sir Mr. Septimus Nosworth, of the
Round House. You could see the
tower of it over yon if you was to
step out into the road and get clear
«>f these trees."
To Be Continued To-morrow.
The Habit of Lying
“I
DON'T know what on earth
makes people lie!” sighed Me-
Billip. “They just naturally
do it, I suppose. That's the only way
1 can account for it.
“Now. there's my own daughter,
Annabel. She took a notion into her
head that she would do some lying.
She was staying down in the city and
some neighbors of ours went down
and called on Annabel there.
“Annabel turned loose. Such a
string of stuff as she told them:
Every night, she said, .she had been
out Joy riding until 2 o'clock in the
morning!
“ 'Who did the chaperoning'.” the
neighbors asked, breathlessly.
“‘Who did the what?’ asked Anna
bel.
“ Why, the chaperoning. Didn’t
you have a chaperon ?’
“ ‘Well, I should say not,’ said An
nabel.
“Then Annabel went on to tell that
she had been having such a good
time with actors and actresses. She
knew Maude Adams well, had taken
a joy ride with Maude, and Maude
wanted to take her with her and make
an actress of her. and had promis-d
her *100 a week as a starter. Anna
bel had also me; Sothern and had
liked him very well, but she had been
obliged to treat him coolly because
Julia Marlowe was so jealous.
“She had met a famous aeronaut
and he had coaxed her and coaxed
her until she finally made a flight
with him, and she enjoyed the ex
perience very much and had received
several letters and photographs from
the aeronaut since he left town.
"Soon after the neighbors got back
home with' these thrilling tales of
what was going on in the city I got
word of it. I took the first train to
the city. Every bird in the air I
thought might be some aeronaut fly
ing off with my daughter. I had made
up my mind to yank her out of her
aunt's house, where she was visiting
without a word of explanation and"
get her home at once.
“But when I got to the house I
thought better of it. ‘What <in the
world do you mean,’ I said lo her
aunt, ‘by allowing my daughter, a girl
of tender years, to fly around with
aeronauts and actors, and go out rid
ing at all hours of the night without
a chaperon'.”
" 'Are you crazy?’ asked her aunt.
'Annabel has been with me every
night and has always gone to bed at
10:30. There havp oeen no aeronauts
nor actors near her that I know of.
I have been with that child every
minute, too.’
"When I saw Annabel she' said she
had made up those yarns Just for fun.
She said she was bored and wanted to
st:c; something. The neighbors had
been so easily shocked when they
/■■-tiled on her that she couldn't heip
giving them the full voltage.”