Newspaper Page Text
I
Lost Books That
Caused Tragedies
<o>
The Joys of Motor Boating
Startling Facts Concerning I hF Universal Sport, Based on Articles in Motor
Boating Magazine for May
t -r THEN Thomas Carlyle
V \
French Revolution,
which had coat him months of in-j
caatant toil and the verification of;
thousands* of facts and references. h*
lent the manuscript to John Smart
Mill. Surely, that philosopher had |
one of the worst tanks ever alloted to
, mnria 1 ^an when he had to tell I
the "Sage of rhelsea" that the price-1
*>.-!* manuscript had been thrown into
the fire by a careless servant, ami j
,n’y a lew charred leaves—still to be J
seen in t'heyne Row. Chelsea re
mained to tell the tale.
Sir leaac Newton was the victim
•nf a similar catastrophe, but the
"friend” responsible was not human,
but canine—his favorite lltle dog. He
left him in his study alone, and when
he came back tound that he had
"(hewed' the mathematical calcula
tions of many strenuous months.
Many accounts say that Newton took
it very calmly, but the truth is that
it preyed upon his mind to such an
extent ap to cause much temporary
mental aberration.
Are Children a Duty?
In 1 his Article. Which Is No. 3 in the Series, the Author Says
That the Little Ones Are Clearly Entitled
to Justice.
The Girl With the Aigrette
By GARRETT P. SERVISS.
Byron's Memoirs.”
One of the great losses to literature
was the burning of six books of
Spencer’s "Faery Queen." which the
poet Is said to have left in his house
in County Tyrone. Ireland A re
bellion broke out and the place wa
burned; and not only did the poet's
younRest child perish in the flames,
but. it is said, also about as much of
the great poem as we possess at
present.
All lovers of Byron are aware that
this erratic genius found time In his
short adventurous life to write his
memoirs, and that on his death these
passed into the hands of his friend
Thomas Moore, who, exerciainsr a dis
cretion committed to him, promptly
consigned the manuscript to the
flames
No doubt the writer of Irish Melo
dies” had very good and highly prop
er reasons for taking this decisive
step, and it is quite likely that the
publication of the memoirs would not,
for obvious reasons, have been pos
sible for many years after the poet’s
death; yet as succeeding generations
have been brought face to fare with
the peculiar complex genius of Byron,
with Its lofty moods and its many
dark place*, they have felt need of
the light which only the records writ
ten by a vanished hand could have
supplied.
Despondent Strindberg.
Since the death of Auguste Strind
berg. the famous Swedish novelist and
dramatist—who. by the way, had
much in common with Byron—man>
of his works have been translated
into the English language and are
already the center of heated contro
versy in literary circles. It is possi
ble, therefore, that the powerful, if
somewhat misanthropical writings of
this Swedish recluse ma> '•< r. ad and
treasured by generations to come. But ;
all his works will not go down to
posterity, for jt is said that iu a sud
den fit of despondency Strindberg
himself destroyed a number of his
manuscripts, which, through lack of
time or inclination, he never wrote
again.
A HE Joy of motion’ How it has ,
been heightened by the autocar, i
the aeroplane and the motor
boat! Heightened not merely because
the motion has been rendered swifter ;
and more sensuous, but because the j
driving power has been almost spirit- |
ualized. The little motors are like <
mysterious gnomes, and one never tires
of seeing them miraculously doing the
work of giants. It goes far toward
satisfying the universal longing of
humanity to be able to accomplish
things by simply willing that they be
done.
A measure of the delight that these
new forms of locomotion afford is
shown in the astonishingly rapid
spread of the use of the motor boat.
1 confess my surprise in viewing the
chart, published in the May number
of Motor Boating Magazine, which ex
hibits the distribution of the 256.950
motor boats now in use in the United ,
States.
More than 50,000 of these are in the
Middle Western States, a thousand
miles or more from the ocean, and
there are even several hundreds in j
the mountain States of the Far West! 1
Wherever there exists a little lake, or
a navigable stream, the pleasures of
motor boating can be, and are. en
joyed. The motor boat draws little ‘
water, and is very powerful and flexi
ble in its movements, so that it
would seem to be an interesting ex- i
periment to try it in some of the wild j
canyons of the West.
On the Pacific.
On the Pacific Coast the charm of
the motor boat appears to he more
universally appreciated even than in
the East, for I find, from the same
authority, that California and its
neighbors have twelve of these fairy
craft to every thousand of the popu-
Women and
girls as well
as men are
keen for the
delights of
motor
boating.
By VIRGINIA TERHUNE VAN DE WATER
Do You Know
That—
K INO ALFONSO is credited with !
forming a collection of objects '
associated with t.’.e various at
tempts against his life. Among other 1
items he possesses the teat of a feed
ing bottle with which an attempt was
made to poison him at the age of
eight months; the walking stick with
which a discontented servant tried
to brain him; pieces of the bomb
thrown at him 1n Barcelona; the
skeleton of one of the horses killed
by the bomb attempt in the Due De-
Rivoli, Paris: and fragments col
lected in the street after the ex
plosion of the infernal machine hurled
at the royal carriage on his wedding
day.
A curiosity of nest building that is
probably unique has just been discov
ered at one of Messrs Cbisers & Sons'
farms near Cambridge. Within a short
distance of the jam factory six fruit
baskets were tied together and hung
in a cart shed, where a number of
men are often at work. In every one
of these baskets a bird has built its
nest, and in two cases the nests have
eggs The builders include black
birds. song-thrushes and missel -
thrushes, and as the baskets are be
ing left alone, it is hoped that each
mother will hatch out her brood.
Mr. William Augustus (Jordon Hake,
who is now 102. is easily the oldest
living English barrister He is a
cousin of General Gordon, lives at
Brighton, which seeniH to make a
specialty of residents who have long
passed the allotted span, and has still
sufficient vitality to brush aside in
fluenza and bronchitis and little trou
bles of that nature. The curious in
these matters will be interested to
learn that he attributes his long life
and good health to abstemiousness
and plenty of exercise.
A Poisoned Arrow.
A pharmacist in Pasadena had a
stranger call in and ask for a bottle of
alcohol.
•I’m afraid 1 can't let you have tt
without a doctor's prescription.” he an
swered ,
Why not? Do I look like a man who
would kill himself?”
• I wouldn't go so far as to say that,
sir; but if I looked like you I should
he tempted."
Boat! Every* h<re
Tlif <1.«tr,
bwnoa nl the niilMlr l
;>?nao motor bo»ti in ilic
I'riird Slam u vary in
itrnuiW and •» well thnwn
on ihit I'jjrc, A it also the
relation nf their number
•lair hat some n»
Mid New Yorl
e»l number, aboi
I F parents cannot do justice to children
after they are here, there can scarce
ly be any fulfilment of duty to them
in bringing them here.
By "justice" I do not mean luxury.
Money in abundance is not good for
children, and it is well for them to learn
self-denial In some directions. Your
son may not he able to own a motor car
i or a saddle horse, as does your neigh
bor's son. and yet he can be quite as
’ happy as the wealthier lad; he may
: l ave to- deny himself many luxuries if
j he would save money for a trip to the
mountains or seashore, and he may have
! to economize carefully to make his al
lowance (all you can afford to give
| him), supply all his needs. He is none
i the worse, indeed, is rather the better,
1 for all these facts.
But he is no better for not having
lothos that are decent enough for him
o wear in the circle to which he was
born; he is none the happier for being
. denied the education to which his in-
| (Gleet entitles him.
it is a sad thing for an ambitious and
i bright lad, with intellectual tastes and
thirst for knowledge, to have to en-
er an office as soon as he is out of
grammar school so that he may earn the
money that is needed at home. He can
be young but once, and in relinquishing
.e education that lie wants to take, or
which you should insist upon his tak-
ng, he is letting slip opportunities
nich he can never recall, changing,
perhaps, the whole current of his life
od entering the race handicapped from
his youth up.
Is there any duty that compels so
many children to be born that this state
of affairs is a necessity? Are not par
ents performing their duty more when
; they have two or three children whom
th^y can feed, clothe ami educate prop
erly than in having seven or eight, to
not one of w hom they can do justice?
Of course it is a high ambition to
hear children with the idea of training
them to be such good men and women
that the world will be better for their
having lived in it. That is the ambi
tion which all may feel for their sons
and daughters after they are here. How-
many parents have their children with
that special ambition in mind?
Finally, may it not be that we OWE
i duty to the children themselves? Are
they to be left out of the reckoning?
Are we to rush them in numbers into
i sphere in which they cannot develop
he best that is in them? Should we
r eel no hesitation in ushering them into
family already so full that we wonder
"row week to week how all the mouths
are to be fed and all the bodies clothed?
Who that looks at the “little moth-
■rs” carrying one child and leading an
-her. burdened with weights and re
sponsibilities far beyond their years, old
before their time, dare say that the
parents of these little burden-bearers
fulfil any duty to God or man in bring
ing a child into the world every year?
Some one must suffer for it, and in this
performance of what some people deem
a duty the sufferers are not only the
parents but the innocent children them
selves.
Said a happy grandmother to a friend:
I am sure that children are a duty.
A hat would my life be without my
dren and grandchildren?”
This woman did not think deeply
enough when she asked that question
to appreciate that the tender care she
receives is not the result of her having
merely given birth to her children. It
is the result of her proper training of
ihe children after they are here. Her
circumstances were such that she was
enabled to do full justice to her one
girl and two boys, so that each char
ter was properly developed, each
nind well trained, each intellect allow
ed to improve and expand. That was
where thtis mother did her best work,
tut if asked if she had her children
;<>M A SENSE OF DUTY she would
reply truthfully in the negative. Site
loved children, she wanted them, but
e loved them too much to have more
of them than* she could care for.
The Psalmist declared tha. children
were a gift from the Lord. Many par
ents feel that they are. and they are
■■ht in declaring that they are bles
sings and delights in many homes, mak-
g life well worth the living. But
at the Lord is responsible for send-
ug children here, marred before birth
inherited evils, and crushed after
rth by pain and want—one can hardly
believe; and the statement that bringing
ildren into the world under all con-
litions and circumstances is the duty
every married couple is one to which
> thoughtful lover of his kind will
agree.
H ERE is a small, smart hat
that can be made up in
expensively or otherwise,
just a« milady can afford.
It is modeled after the popu
lar rolled-up brim shape, which
is fast becoming a favorite this
season.
If one can afford a large
aigrette, the hat becomes a thing
of great beauty.
WITHIN THE LAW
A Powerful Story of
Adventure, Intringe and Love
Copyright, 1913. by the H. K. Fly Com- j
pany. The play “Within the Law” is J
copyrighted by Mr. Veil lei* and this
novelization of it is published by his j (
permission. The American Play Com- , 5
pany is the sole proprietor of the ex- j <
elusive rights of the representation
and performance of "Within the Law” ;
in all languages. j\
By MARVIN DANA from the
Play by BAYARD VEILLER.
T()-1 >AY *S INSTALLMENT.
Aggie took advantage of the pause.
Her voice was acid.
"Some people are sneaks—just j
sneaks!”
Somehow, the speech was welcome
to the girl, gave her a touch of cour
age sufficient for cowardly protesta
tions. it seemed to relieve the ten
sion drawn by the other woman's
torment. It was more like the abuse
that was familiar to her. A gush o f
tears came.
“I’ll never forgive myself, never!”
she moaned.
SYNOPSIS.
Mary Turner, an orphan, employed
in Edward Gilder’s department store,
is accused of theft and sent to prison,
though innocent. Aggie Lynch, a
convict friend of Mary's at Bum-
sing, sees good "possibilities” for her
in the world of crime. Upon Mary’s
release she is continually hounded
and in desperation throws herself
into the North River. Joe Garson, a
forger, rescues her and keeps her
and Aggie in luxury, though living
chaste lives. Mary becomes the lead
er of a band of swindlers, robbing
only the unscrupulous and keeping
always “within the law.” Gilder’s
son Dick meets and loves Mary, who
seeks to wreak vengeance on the
father through the son. A girl who
has been in prison hears of Mary’s
charitable disposition, calls on her
and faints from want of nourishment.
Now Go on With the Story
pression of his clear, glowing eyes.
Aggie thought that it was her turn
to voice herself, which she did with-
Contempt mounted in Mary’s breast. I out undue restraint.
_ „ . _ ., _ , . ' Perhaps we do, but I dunno! I'll
Her Voice Rang With Contempt, tell you one thing, though. If any
••Oh, yes, you will,” she said, <J anie sent me U P for three y ears and
Tmalevolently*. "People forgive them
selves pretty easily." The contempt
j checked for a little the ravages of her
| grief. “Stop crying.” she command -
j ed, harshly. "Nobody is going to hurt
you.” She thrust the money again
! toward the girl, and crowded it into
! the half-reluctant, half-greedy hand.
| "Take it, and get out.” The contempt
j in her voice rang still sharper, mor-
I dant.
Even the puling creature writhed
then wanted money from me, do you
think she’d get it? Wake me up any
time in the night and ask me. Not
much—not a little bit much! I'd
hang on to it like an old woman to
her last tooth." And that was Ag
gie's final summing up of her impres
sions concerning the scene she had
just witnessed.
A Bridegroom Spurned.
After Aggie’s vigorous comment
The map, reproduced by permission from Motor Boating Magazine for May, shows at a glance how the
sport of motor boating has spread over the country, and the proportion of motor boats to the population in
various sections. The hydroplane is the "Ankle Deep,” which has shown a speed of more than fifty miles an hour.
lation. while on the Atlantic seaboard
the number is only four to the
thousand of population.
Then look at the photographs of
racing motor boats! They seem to be
fairly leaping from the waves. The
danger is minimized because the
water is no terror to good swimmers,
or to those provided with proper
floats And the joy of the swift mo
tion is increased by the whipping
spray and salt breeze.
Fortunately a motor boat is com
paratively a cheap means of amuse
rnent and outdoor exercise. Almost
anyone can own one, and anybody
can learn to run his own boat. The
cost of fuel and of keeping is small
And no healthier form of sport could
well be imagined If you live in the
country, your own little lake or
winding river will afford you many
pleasant surprises as you glide
through its .shaded reaches, or into
and out of its hidden bays. If you
are more ambitious, and have a larger
boat, you may make astonishing voy
ages on the sea itself, running in to
the shores and exploring shallow
waters where no ordinary boat would
be able to penetrate. You may fish,
you may camp, you may anchor, you
may take refuge, almost anywhere
you please.
A Wonderful Cruise.
And all the while you v\ ill be learn
ing the art of navigation and ac
quiring skill in the management of
marine machinery. You will find out
how to lay your course by the com
pass, or the stars, or the buoys and
landmarks. You will also learn the
art of keeping a log. which in itself
is delightful. A slip's log is always
fascinating, that of a motorboat is no
less so. It is the diary of adventure.
By your winter Are you will take out
your log book, with Its tarry smell
recalling your summer cruise, and
live over again vour adventures as
you turn its pages.
In the magazine to which 1 have
referred I have been perusing the
story of a motorboat cruise of 2.500
miles along the Atlantic coast. In
cluding the crossing of the Ever
glades of Florida and Lake Okeecho
bee, the mere names of which are
like a breath of romance. T only wish
the writer had told more about that
enchanted region, with its cypresses
and palms, its tangled waterways and
all its tropical strangeness and mag
nificence. Such things never fail to
stir the imagination.
There is a practical aspect of motor
sprang up. slinking back a step.
"I can't take it!” she cried, whim
pering. But she did not drop the
money.
"Take it while you have it,” Mary
counseled, still with the contempt that
boating along the coast which occurs pierced even the hardened girl s sense
of selfishness. She pointed toward
to me. It is capable of proving of
great value in the defense of the
rountry by familiarizing a large num
ber of persons with short outlines,
depth of water, hidden channels,
range sights, etc*., which might be of
•ritieal importance in case of war.
Every observant motor boatman may
make himself a valuable auxiliary in
naval defense. In an emergency he
might become a volunteer pilot of
indispensable importance at a crisis.
Read Cooper’s story of "The Pilot”
and you will see what I mean. The
same observation applies to motor-
boat exploration along the shores of
♦ he Great Lakes. And think how de
lightfully this knowledge can be ob
tained!
Up-to-the-Minute jokes
"You didn’t buy that big touring
car you were looking at last fall, did
you, Hawkins?” said Garraway.
"No.” said Hawkins. "I got a couple
of little runabouts instead.”
"Runabouts?” retorted Garraway.
"Yep,” said Hawkins. "My wife pre
sented me with twins. Can’t afford
too many luxuries all at once.”
"1 don't see how* you can laugh this
v iy,” said the Sheriff, as he attached
Dubbleigh’s car for a debt owed to
Higby. and observed that Dubbieigh
seemed highly amused by it.
"Oh, 1 just edn't help it.” laughed
Dubbieigh. "1 only owe Higby $500
and it'll cost him three times that to
run that car six months.”
KODAKS
T*« But F tni»h « a ' F r. i aro
^ Th— U#n B *
■ I EattaiM raw and
mKmammmmk -.ieu sw* amattur nniia.
Quirk nail eeivlc* for out £*vr. c«*oi&*i*
s«nd for Catalog aod PHco Llat.
A. K. HAWKES CO. * 0 ° E D A*
•4 Wh.tohall 8V, Atlanta, Ga_.
"My dear,
where did
said the New York man.
you get the new wait-
"She says she used to be in vaude
ville." replied his wife.
"Good. Now we can have home
dinners with cabaret features."
"What did they give yottse a: dat
last house?”
"Gimme three • minutes before
turning loose de dog.”
“Why do politicians wear high hats
and frock coats?” asked the person
who makes trivial inquiries.
“Well,” replied Senator Sorghum,
“the high hat and the frock coat con
stitute the appropriate attire for occa
sions both of mourning and congrat
ulation. And every election makes a
politician feel a* if he were going to
a funeral or a wedding.”
“Your flowers in the hall seem flour
ishing.”
“Doing nicely, thank you.”
“They evidently get plenty of wa
ter; but watering plants is such a
task.”
"Not for me. The bath room above
leaks.”
He was a stingy guy and he
Cared not for hoots or jeers;
When asked to give to charity
He said: “I’ll give three cheers '
“I had to kUl m
ing," said the Boob,
“Was he mad?" ;
Idiot.
"Well, he didn't seem any too we
pleased," replied the Boob.
under the lash of Mary s tones. She there followed a long silence. That
volatile young person, little troubled
as she was by sensitiveness, guessed
the fact that just now further dis
cussion of the event would be dis
tasteful to Mary, and so she betook
herself discreetly to a cigarette and
the illustrations of a popular maga
zine devoted to the stage.
As for the man, his reticence was
really from a fear lest in speaking at
all he might speak too freely, might
betray the pervasive yiolence of his
feeling. So. he sat motionless and
wordless, his eyes carefully avoiding
Mary in order that she might not be
disturbed by the invisible vibrations
thus sent from one to another. Mary
herself was shaken to the depths.
A great weariness, a weariness that
cried the worthlessness of all things,
had fallen upon her. It rested leaden
on her soul. It weighed down her
body as well, though that mattered
little indeed. Yet, since she could
minister to that readily, she rose and
went to a settee on the opposite side
of the room where she arranged her
self among the cushions in a posture
more luxurious than her rather pre
cise early training usually permitted
her to assume in the presence of oth
ers.
There she rested, and soon felt the
tides of energy again flowing in her
blood, and that same vitality, too,
wrought healing even for her agon
ized soul, though more slowly. The
perfect health of her gave her
strength to recover speedily from the
shock she had sustained.
the door. “Go—before I change my
mind.”
The girl needed, indeed, no second
bidding. With the money still
clutched in her hand she went forth
swiftly, stumbling a little in her
haste, fearful lest, at the last mo
ment. the woman she had so wronged
should in fact change in mod. take
back the money—ay, even give her
over to that terrible man with the
eyes of hate, to put her to death as
she deserved.
He Leaped Across the Room.
Freed from the miasma of that
presence, Mary remained motionless
for a long minute, then sighed from
her tortured heart. She urned and
went slowly to her chair at the desk,
and seated herself languidly, weak
ened by the ordeal through which she
had passed.
“A girl I didn't know!” she said
bewilderingly; "perhaps had never
spoken to—who smashed my life
like that! Oh. if it wasn’t so awful
it would be—funny! It would be fun
ny!" A gust of hysterical laughter
burst from her. "Why, it is funny!”
she cried, wildly. "It is funny!”
"Mary!” Garson exclaimed sharp
ly. He leaped across the room to
face her. "That's no good!” he said
severely.
Aggie, too, rushed forward.
"No good at all!” she declared
loudly.
The interference recalled the dis
tressed woman to herself. She made
a desperate effort for self-command.
Little by little, the unmeaning look
died down, and presently she sat si
lent and moveless, staring at the two
with stormy eyes out of a wan face.
“We Understand.’’
“You were right,” she 6aid at last,
in a lifeless voice. "It’s done, and
can’t be undone. I was a fool to let
it affect me like that. I really
thought I had lost all feeling about
it. but the sight of that girl—the
knowledge that she had done it—
brought it all back to rre. Well, you j ters. He didn't put a name to it. bn
und» rstiuul. don't you "* I'm on.” Mary regarded him inquD
"We understand,” Garson said, j ingly, and he continued, putting tb
grimly. But there was more than 1 fact with a certain brutal bluntnefa
grimness, infinitely more, in the ex- • after the habit of his class. "1 gueas
you’ll have to quit seeing young Gil
der. The bulls are wise. His father
has made a holler.”
"Don’t let that worry you. Joe,” she
said tranquilly. She allowed a few
seconds to go by, then added as if
quite indifferent: "I was married to
Dick Gilder this morning.” There
came a squeal of amazement from
Aggie, a start of incredulity from
Garson.
"Yes,” Mary repeated evenly, “I was
married to him this morning. That
was my important engagement,” she
added with a smile toward Aggie.
For some intuitive reason, mysterious
to herself, she did not care to meet
the man’s eyes at that moment.
Aggie sat erect, her baby face alive
with worldly glee.
“My Gawd, what luck!” she ex
claimed, noisily. "Why, he’s a king
fish, he is. Gee! But I’m glad you
landed him!”
“Thank you,” Mary said, with a
smile that was the result of her sense
of humor rather than from any ten
derness.
It was then that Garson spoke. He
was a delicate rnan in his sensibili
ties at times, in spite of the fact that
he followed devious methods in his
manner of gaining a livelihood. So,
now, he put a question of vital sig
nificance.
“Do you love him?”
The question caught Mary all un
prepared, but she retained her self-
control sufficiently to make her an
swer in a voice that to the ordinary
ear would have revealed no last
tremor.
"No.” she said. She offered no final
explanation, no excuse, merely state!
the fact in all its finality.
Aggie Looked Shocked.
Aggie was really shocked, though
for a reason altogether sordid, not one
whit romantic.
"Ain’t he young?” she demanded,
aggressively. "Ain't he good looking,
and loose with his money something
scandalous? If I met up with a fellow
as liberal as he. if he was three times
his age. I could simply adore him!”
It was Garson who pressed the topic
with an inexorable curiosity born of
his unselfish interest in the woman
concerned.
"Then, why did you marry him?” he
asked. The sincerity of him was ex
cuse enough for the seeming indelica
cy of the question. Besides, he fe’.t
himself somehow responsible. He had
given back to her the gift of life,
which she had rejected. Surely, he
had the right to know the truth.
It seemed that Mary believed her
confidence his due. for she told him
the fact.
"I have been working and scheming
for nearly a year to do it,” she said,
with a hardening of her face that
spoke of indomitable resolve. “Now,
it’s done.” A vindictive gleam shot
from her violet eyes as she added:
"It’s only the beginning, too.”
To Be Continued To-morrow.
; The brim of;
j
; this hat is
trolled on thejj
/ * \
; left side andi
iis lined with;
| a brocaded
i satin in the
| same color,
forming a
point on the;
right side.
Its only
i trimming is <
the white
j aigrette put j
! at the ex-
•>
< treme back.!
Kill or Cure
OW are you, old sport?” said
Jepson to Simcoe, who, sup- '
ported by a crutch and a cane,
came slowly down the sunlit street. Sim.
coe was swathed until he resembled a
mummy; he moved with extreme care.
When he perceived Jepson he smiled
wanly.
“I don’t feel very well," he returned
wearily. "I don’t seem to get much bet
ter somehow'.” \
“What are you doing for it?" inquired '
Jepson. “That has a lot to do with
how you feel, you. Now. I’ve got a sec
ond cousin whose wife’s mother knew a
man w'ho was down flat on his back
with something or other, and he took—
let’s see, I am not sure that I know
just what it was—but, anyway, it was
some sort of medicine that you rub on
and take internally, too! I don’t doubt
but that any druggist can tell you the
name of it, if you tell him what it’s
for. You get some and try it, and
maybe it will cure you as quick as it did
that fellow.
Simcoe held up his thin hands. “No
use,” he said. "If it’s known to medi
cal science I’ve already tried it. I’ve
changed medicine once every' three or
four days for a year or so; I try a new
preparation every time I turn around.
I think 1 get worse all the time."
“Why don’t you hunt up a new doc
tor?” queried, Jepson, w’ith a sudden in
spiration.
“Doctors!’’ snorted Simcoe, for the
moment aroused from his lethargy.
"Doctors! I’ve had more doctors than
there are men in the Mexican army,
I’ve had doctors that give medicine in
large doses, and doctors that give medi
cine in small doses; I’ve had doctors that
rub and maltreat their patients until
most of them either die or get well in
self-defense; I've had doctors that give
various sorts of treatment, and some
at don’t seem to give any at all. I’ve
had ’em old and young, male and fe
male, white, red. black and tan and
yellow—all sorts and conditions of doc
tors. but none of them is able to make
me feel as I. ought to feel.”
"Ever try the baths?” ventured Jep
son.
“All of them,' said Simcoe. “Sulphur,
salt, mud, steam, hot and cold water]
hops—I’ve been the whole route. And
every new kind of bath does me up ,
worse than the one before. I must be in
awful shape, and I don’t know for the
life of me what I'm going to do with
myself now.”
i'll tell you, old man,” counseled
Jepson, after deliberation, "if I were
in yor shoes I wouldn’t do anything.
Maybe no treatment at all is what you
need until you get rested up again.
Anyway, the things you’ve tried haven't t.
helped you, you say, and this might."
“Not do anything?” exclaimed Sim
coe In amazement. “Why, if I took a
chance like that I’d probably he dead
as a pickled eel before to-morrow. I’m
on my way now to see a new sort of
medical genius that puts his patients
in a barrel and piles hot bricks on their
heads. It’s said that he has worked
some wonderful cures.
"But as for me, I don’t hope for very
much. It doesn’t seem to be of much
use, because the more I doctor, some-
the worse I get. and the worse
I get the more 1 have the doctor, and
the more I doc—”
But Jepson had fled.
Her Hair Sparkled.
It was this health that made the
glory of the flawless skin, white with
a living white that revealed the cours
ing blood beneath, and the crimson
lips that bent in smiles so tender, or
so wistful, and the limpid eyes in
which always lurked fires that some
times burst into flame, the lustrous
mass of undulating hair that sparkled
in t»he sunlight like an aureole to her
face or framed it in heavy splendors
with its shadows, and the supple
erectness of her graceful carriage, the
lithe dignity of her every movement
But at last she stirred uneasily and
sat up. Garson accepted this as a
sufficient warrant for speech.
"You know—Aggie told you—that
Cassidy was up here from headqu&r-
00
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