Newspaper Page Text
The Amateur Gardener
A Complete Short Story
XHERE’S not much need for a
watering can, any way, just
now, is there?”
Corporal John Smith straightened his
hack and looked at Iris questioner.
"You’ve only just moved in. haven’t
fou?” he asked irrelevantly. "Your
front lawn has been neglected for some
time"
“Yes, I only came the other day. My
name’s Paley—Richard Paley. I have
heard you spoken of already as Mr.
Bmkh—Police Corporal Smith. I think.
Several people told me about your skill
is a gardener, and I have had a peep
nr two on the sly. They told me the
truth, any way. But it is the grass that
takes my eye so much. I’ve never seen
i plot look so smooth and green—so
velvety. I might say.”
“Oh, I’m proud of that gra?s. It’s
really very simple when you get a start.
It takes time, of course; but careful
Bowing and plenty of rolling will work
wonders if you have anything like a
decent bit of ground to begin with.”
“I must have a lesson or two,” said
Paley, smiling. “It would Just suit me
to have a bit of green like that in front
nf the window.”
“I'm sure I shall be pleased to help
you,” said Corporal Smith.
“I’ll make a start to-morrow, then.
May I borrow your mower and roller for
a day or two?”
“Certainly.”
For the next few days Mr. Paley paid
great attention to his garden.
“I don’t see much difference in my
fawn yet." he said, after about a week
had passed. “Do you think the roller is
heavy enough for my lawn?”
“Don’t make a mistake and have the
roller trfo heavy,” said Smith. “I do
sometimes put a brick or two inside for
S bit of extra weight, but .you certainly
could do with it a bit heavier. Don’t
be in too big a hurry to get it done."
More Suggestions.
“I’ll tell what I’ll do. if you don’t
mind,” said Mr. Paley. “Pll have the
ends of your roller boarded up, with a
hole left so that I can put In a quan
tity of sand.”
"Well, I don’t mind. It would perhaps
be a better and more convenient way of
petting what you want.”
“Thanks! I'll have it done, then,”
said Paley. turning away.
A day or two later he called his
neighbor’s attention to the roller In its
hew form, and the latter walked round
Into the next garden.
"I see you’ve got an evening paper.
What’s the latent score?”
“There’s a paragraph that will inter
est you professionally,” said Paley, re
ferring once more to the paper
“What's that?” inquired Smith.
“You remember that Mg robbery a
week or two since?”
“Yes. They got away with about
14.000 worth of stuff, I remember.”
“More than that, I should think. The
paper says that the police have got
some slight clew, which they are follow
ing up.”
“I should like to get my fingers on
some of that stolen property,” said
Corporal Smith
“In cases like this, it seems to me,”
said Paley. "that the police are often
outwitted in quite a simple manner.
The safest method to hide such stuff
as this would be to put it just under
their noses. They get so full of fan
tastic theories, and look so far away,
that they will miss what is just within
reach of their fingers if they did but
know it.
A Dollar Bet.
“Perhaps you may be right to some
extent.” said Smith. “You know, of
course, that the information supplied to
the papers is not all that the police
have, and sometimes It Is even pub
lished as a blind.”
“Yes. that is so. certainly; but 1 still
think that the police miss frequently
what is quite close to them.”
“Well,” said Smith, “I must stick up
for my own side. We'll take this as a I
test case if you like, and see what comes
of it ”
”Au right,’’ returned Paley. “I’m j
agreeable. As a bit of sport, we’ll put
a dollar on it, shall we? Besides, it |
will be of interest to us locally, as the j
report states that a suspected man has j
been traced into this district. So you
may have a bit of luck after all. Who
knows?”
“I should he very glad to. And if
the man Is down here I may even have
a chance. I’ll see what, the paper has
to say, though I expect to hear some
thing officially.”
“Well, good-night,” said Mr. Paley.
The clicking of the latch on the gate
made both men look in that direction.
"Ah!” murmured Smith. “This is De
tective Smart, who has charge of the
very case we have been discussing. I
shall be hearing something reliable
now.”
He noticed, with surprise, the start
that Paley gave on hearing the name;
but it was nothing to his astonishment
when the detective walked directly up
to Paley, placed his hand on him and
arrested him in the strictly formal man
ner under the name of Robert Pearout.
“Why, sergeant,” he gasped, “this Is
Mr. Richard Paley.”
“He may have given you that name,
hut I know him as Robert Pearout,”
replied the detective.
Smith stared at the prisoner.
"It's quite true that is my real name,”
said the latter dejectedly, “and I have
deceived you. It may look black against
me, going under a false name; but I
have a good excuse for that. I know
they can’t prove anything against me,
and I’in sure to be at liberty again
soon.”
The house he had occupied was
thoroughly searched, but nothing of Im
portance was found. There was strong
circumstantial evidence that he was in
some way mixed up in the affair, even
if he were not the moving spirit. All
the efforts of the police to bring it home
to him were futile, and he was at
length released.
He greeted Smith at the earliest op
portunity.
“Just what I told you!” he said.
“Your men, with their far-fetched the
ories, made a wild grasp at me, but were
wrong again. I did get into trouble
once, but have gone straight since.
I am a marked man though now, and
I shall soon be going.”
The next morning he had disappeared,
nor was any trace of him afterward
discovered.
A Find.
Smith was prevented by the bad
weather from pursuing his hobby. When
at last the sun shone he found that the
absconding Mr. Paley had not returned
his gardening Implements, and he had
to fetch them himself.
The relief he found much too heavy
for his purpose and he proceeded to
empty it.
At length the running of the sand was
interrupted by something inside.
Poking this out with a stick, he was
astonished to find wrapped In a piece of
newspaper a small Jewel case, which he
at once recognized as part of the stolen
property.
With eager lingers he opened his
prize; but his hopes were immediately
dashed to the ground when he found the
sole contents was a slip of paper ad
dressed to himself.
"Dear Mr. Smith,’’ it ran, ‘‘many
thanks for your roller, of wnich I made
good use. The police do miss things
close under their noses and within reach
of their fingers. Had you emptied the
roller sooner your luck would have been
better. ( You owe me a dolar. Please
get some one to cut and roll the grass.
1 should not be contented if I thought
that all my energy in that direction had
been wasted. Gratefully yours.
"ROBERT PEAROUT,
••Alias
‘ RICHARD PALEY.”
THE DEATH TRAP IN THE CASTLE
Rusty cautiously approached with the lighted lantern. War
ren took it in his left hand and held out his right.
“Take a good grip, Rusty. Can you hold me?”
“Yes, sah!” Rusty crouched back and set himself.
Jarvis cautiously stepped out with his left foot. A four-foot
strip of the floor sank under the light weight and the other end
nearest the wall rose. If he had been walking at an ordinary gait
nothing eould have saved him. The speed of his rush and his
remarkable agility carried forward far enough for the weight of
his upper body to strike the rising end, of the trap and thus shut
it again.
A Girl’s Room :: ::
By MRS. FRANK LEARNED
Author of 44 The Etiquette of New York To-day"
A GIRL’S character and individ
uality are very clearly shown
by the condition and contents
of her own bedroom. If she is neat
and orderly, careful of her belong
ings. or careless, wasteful, destruc
tive or extravagant, these traits are
distinctly emphasized in her room.
Tastes which are refined and culti
vated, or tastes which are trivial and
mean, are reflected there. Her sur
rounding's show her culture, or the
need of it
The habit of keeping her room,
desk and clothes in order, having a
place for everything, and everything
In its place, is an immense help to
ward training in method, accuracy
and thoroughness. A girl may well
practice these simple but necessary
rules of orderliness. They will be an
aid toward character building and an
aid toward the making of a wider
sphere of influence. It is generally
acknowledged that those who are
negligent of order are untrustworthy
and incapable, fretful and unhappy.
A girl’s room may be a place to
help to mold her character to the
ideal girl she wishes to be. “I used
to be very spasmodic about keeping
my room in order,” said a girl. *1
waited until it was in frightful dis
order; then I rearranged everything.
But my experience is that th< habit
of putting my things in order, and
the harder task of keeping them so.
is a tremendous help in managing
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i
myself. If 1 can manage all the
little external things, it is easier to
sort out good thoughts from hurtful,
wasteful thoughts, and keep charac
ter in order.”
If a girl loves books and pictures
a few' of them, at least, will be in her
room. She knows that a well-fur
nished mind is like a well-appointed
room, and that by forming a habit
of reading tfnd arranging time for
the companionship of a good book
in the day’s work, she will not only
increase her intellectual work and
the facility wdth which she learns,
but will make her an interesting wo
man. The girl who has a bright,
wideawake mind uses her talents and
never ceases to be receptive. Her
books are not the passing, ephemeral
novels of the day. She does not spoil
her taste by reading too much trash,
but she gets the right start, learns
to choose the books worth reading,
and she cultivates reading, not as
a task, but for the great enjoyment
ir gives. And so a girl has her book
shelf, where she accumulates grad
ually her collection of books. On the
walls she has a few good pictures.
These may be neatly-framed prints,
or photographs of famous pictures
of the world. They are within the
means of most girls, and those who |
love beauty and culture will not fail j
to have them.
If possible, each girl in a family |
should have her own room, where ■
she may have opportunities for being j
alone, and for cultivating her own re- j
sources; where she may read, study, j
paint or sew. In this way she is'
helped to depend on her individual in-’ 1
terests rather than on the excitement j
of constant companionship. If a girl’s ;
room is merely a transient spot to i
Meep and dress in. and not a place!
to read and think in, she can n_>t un- I
derstand the pleasure of a room of 1
her own. Facilities for solitude arei
not encouraged enough in home life, j
yet they should be recognized as a j
necessity for growth of character, j
In the quiet half hours of solitude j
strength of soul is formed to face J
perplexities or temptations, to com -1
mune with one’s own heart and con -1
science, and thus to solve hard prob
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The Most Exciting Serial
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SERIALIZED
By J. W. McCONAUGHY
(Copyright, 1913, by Star Co.)
TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT.
“They’re trying to scare us. Rusty,”
he cried, battling with a sudden panic
that came upon him with an overwhelm
ing rush. "They're trying to scare us—
they’re probably watching every move
we make! That’s where that pounding
comes from—d—n ’em! Why don’t they
•hoot? They’re trying to scare us—like
they did the poor boob down in the vil
lage!”
He set his teeth hard and stood still
until his manhood conquered. The run
ning continued as before but there was
no nervous strain in his voice now as
he drove Rusty back to the fireplace,
where the wall and floor looked solid.
“They want to get us out of this
room—they want to get us out of here.
Rusty, some one was working in this
room! Now. where was he working?
Where was he ”
“Murse Warren, look heah!”
Rusty, with great terror, had had a
greater eye for details. His big black
hand darted out along the mantelpiece
and came back with a small mallet and
chisel. Warren took them eagerly. He
knew—he was certain the mantel was
empty less than half an hour before.
“Good boy, Rusty!” he exclaimed, as
he returned them. “Now I'M tell you
something—these are his tools. Some
one was working in this room and we
have beaten him to it. Now, where was
he working?”
He looked about him carefully.
The Portrait.
“Mortar on the floor—mortar on the
mantel—look at that!”
A crevice between two of the big
stones above the fireplace showed where
the night worker had been busy.
“That’s where he was working.
Rusty! And we’ve beat him to it!
We’ve beat ”
He stopped abruptly as if a voice had
interrupted him. Both stood perfectly
dill for several seconds and then simul-
ineously they turned and stared at
the picture of the old grandee. Each
was unconscious that the other had
made the same movement until Rusty
looked at his master.
“Did you feel It, too, Marse Warren?’’
he asked In a hushed voice.
Warren did not reply. His eyes were
shining .like stars. He slowly raised
the pistol to cover the ancient don. and
then with slow, cautious steps he
walked up to him.
Rusty watched in shivering silence.
The swinging lantern and the fire-light
threw long, grotesque, leaping shadows
about the recesses of the dim and
musty hall. Somewhere in the groined
roof bats were squeaking and in the
eerie hush even those fine notes were
audible. Occasionally a faint sound
from the walls or beneath the floor told
of the presence of the dread night-
walkers of the old castle. Rusty drew
farther back Into the glare of the fire
and kept his round, terrified eyes on
hjs master.
Jarvis advanced noiselessly until he
w r as within easy arm’s reach of the
portrait. He held up his lantern and
scrutinized its surface. Apparently the
canvas was without a break. The old
grandee held his marshal’s baton on
.is hip and glared haughtily over the
head of the irreverent child of the
young people.
The ghost breaker had read of the
habits of old pictures in feudal castles
and he gave the frame particular atten
tion. Seemingly it was set into the
wall and had not been disturbed for a
hundred years. He rapped the fierce
old captain about the midriff with his
knuckles. There was the usual wood j
backing of the canvas, but the sound
was not hollow.
Warren backed away, still staring,
and wiped his forehead with his hand- I
kerchief. *
“By God, that’s weird!” he muttered,
in an uncertain voice. “You could feel
that just as plain!"
He backed into the low pedestal of one
of the ‘steel-clad warriors at the side
f of the stairs and sat down, still staring
at the picture.
"By God, that's weird!
crumbled to the floor, less than half
conscious.
Jarvis dropped his useless revolver
and picked up a chair, which was the
nearest thing at hand. He swung it
up in front of him just as the third
blow descended. The chair was split,
but chairs were made to stand rough
treatment in the day it was con
structed, and the brass-bound joints
hung together and entangled the sword
blade.
Instantly Jarvis recognized his one
chance—to rush his foeman so rapidly
to the rear that he would be forced to
surrender his sword or fall over back
ward, pulled dowm by the weight of
steel. He put his back into a mighty
shove and lurched forward, as he had
done at school when he was always
good for two yards against the best line
men in the American colleges. The
ghostly knight clattered backward, try
ing to wrench free his weapon, while
Jarvis thrust the battered chair at his
head ar.d gave him no purchase for a
strong wrench at the sword.
Suddenly Jarvis felt himself going
forward on to his face and regained
his balance by a mighty effort. The
resistance was gone. He swung up the
chair for a blow and—nearly stepped
into the closing trapdoor.
There was a faint splash and—si
lence.
Warren darted back to the table and
picked up his revolver. He leaned there
.for a few moments, weak and panting,
it had all been so sudden, so unexpect
ed and was over so quickly that but
for the empty pedestal and the sword
on the floor by the trap he would hard
ly have been able to believe it had hap
pened at all.
To Be Continued To-morrow.
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he repeated,
again and again. Rusty, owl-eyed,
gazed also.
“It sure is, Marse Warren; it sure is.
It—’’
Rusty turned his eyes to his master
to offer an explanation and nearly
dropped, speechless and dead. The fig
ure in armor had turned halfway round
on its pedestal and had raised the old
two-handed Thirteenth Century sword
on which It had been leaning to deal a
blow on the young man’s head that
would have split him to the waist.
Ghost or ghost breaker never achieved
the equal of the yell that burst from
Rusty’s mighty lungs. The very power
and suddenness of It caused Jarvis to
leap a half dozen feet forward into the
room, and even as he jumped he realized
that the danger was real and must be
from his rear, and he wheeled, with re
volver poised and cocked, ao the sword
blade came down on the stone with a
ringing crash.
At the same instant Jarvis fired full
into the steel cuirass. The next—and
the man in armor sprang down the
steps, raising his weapon for another
blow. Again Jarvis fired and leaped to
one side as the sword came down. So
close was it that the fiat of the blade
brushed his coat sleeve. But, worse
than this, he knew' in a flash that the
armored murderer was proof against
soft-nosed bullets.
Weighted by his armor, the swords- j
man wheeled slowly in pursuit. Jarvis
was • practically cornered between the
great table and his adversary. Rusty
was in the enemy’s rear, but he had :
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Real Freedom
By BEATRICE FAIRFAX.
A MOTHER assigned a trivia,
household task to her daugh
ter, and the girl rebelled. She
preferred to loll in a chair and rear 1
the latest fiction.
T detest housework,” she snapped;
“I despise that word ’Duty’ you talk
so much about; I hate being ordereu
around in this way. I will be glad
when I am married and can do as I
please.”
And when the noble Bird of Free
dom heard her make t this speech, it
hung its head on its breast, and
drooped ity tail feathers in shame.
It knew that no freedom comes
with matrimony, but that freedom
ends at its portals. It knew that th(
day was coming when the same girl
would look back with a sigh at the
liberty she enjoyed as a girl, and of
which she now showed so little ap
preciation.
The mother also knew it, and her
reply to her daughter’s speech was a
sigh. How many times a mother’?
answer is a sigh only the good Lord
knows. It is an expression of pain
that goes unheeded on earth, but that
is recorded against the one who
evoked it in Heaven.
Extravagances.
Though the amount is usually lim
ited, there are few girls these clays
who do not have spending money
with which to do as they please. Ob.
sessed by the passion of possession
they buy flowers, ribbons,
gloves, littie necessities and more.
lies, few of which outlast their brief
season. There is no one to object; no
one to question; no one to scold when
the bills come in. The girl who wants
a pretty flower buys ft without the
nagging consciousness that it would
be better to spend the money for po
tatoes. She is free, with her little or
much, to do as she please?*.
The majority of girls are engaged
In some sort of lucrative employment,
and all their time is not their own.
but the hour comes at last when the
typewriter is closed, the loom is quiet,
the sewing machine covered, ami the
books put back on their shelves. Often
the day is too long, and the labor too
arduous for the pay received, hut it
always ends at last and for a time the
girl is free.
She has a few hours of sweet lib
erty when she may go for a ride, a
swim, or to dance, ur to lie undis
turbed in a corner and rest. Her life,
for a brief period, is all her own. with
to-day’s work ended and no intrusion
of the duties of to-morrow.
But when asked to do a little house
hold task for which «>he lacks fnclina.
tion, she says irritably, ”1 will be glad
when I am married and can do as 1
please!”
The noble Bird of Freedom, mf
dear girls, is never an emblem of
wifehood. That little gold band that
is put on a girl’s finger at the altar is
a link in a chain which, in the great
majority of cases, is as binding as
that worn by a slave.
The married woman who has as
much freedom as a girl is a creature
existing only in fairy tale and imagi
nation. Her time, her money, her
thoughts, her soul and body are no
longer her own. ,Free as a girl to
serve herself, she condemns hersell
to life in the servitude of others
w’hen she marries.
She formerly purchased for 'one.
and bought as she pleased. She now
buys for two, often with less money
to buy with, and must account for
all she spends. In the same way
that a dollar is not her own. neither
may an h^uf be called hers to do
with as she likes. If you doubt this,
my dear girl, look at your mother.
What She Does.
How often does she say, “I w r ant
this for myself?” Do you ever hear
her express the intention of going
where SHE pleases? How many
times in your whole life have you
seen her at her ease without house
hold task in her hands? When she
takes a seat isn't it that she ma|
hold the baby?
Marry, by all means, and may you
marry well and happily. But don’t
enter that state believing that you
will be as free as a bird once you
are a wife.
Go into it knowing the sacrifices
you must make. Go into it knowing
that nothing is purchased in this
world without its price, and the price
of love is the ending of all the pre
cious freedom of girlhood.
Perhaps this knowledge may make
you better appreciate the liberty you
enjoy to-day, and give you an un
derstanding of matrimony that will
rob you of all discontent and envy
if your days of girlhood are indefi
nitely prolonged.
Perhaps, also—and this is my
greatest hope—it may make you more
tender and helpful with the burdens
of the one in whose chain of slavery
you are unconsciously, a link—youf
mother.
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Every Woman Needs It
There is not a woman, young or old, who does not need the
Parisian Electric Comb Hair Drier. In one minute it is ready
for use; in 15 minutes it has dried your hair perfectly. AJfl
the electricity goes into heating the comb; no electricity
comes in contact with the user. The comb is never hot enough
to injure the hair. The Parisian Electric Comb Hair Drier is
11 inches long, with a 6-foot cord. It is of aluminum and is
highly polished. It can be attached to any 100 to 125 volt
electric light socket, either direct or alternating current.
10-Day Send for the Parisian
Trial Electric Comb and
Drier to-day.
Special This Comb has never
Price been offered at less
$3.00. By a special
arrangement with the manu
facturer, we are enabled to
offer it at the special price
of $1.95, postpaid, with each
Comb goes this unconditional
guarantee — If, within 3 years,
it proves defective, we will re
place it with a new Comb.
WESTERN MERCHANDISE & SUPPLY
326 West Madison Street, Chicago, Illinois.
. Use it
10 days. If not altogether satisfactory
return it and your money will be re
turned. Br sure to send coupon
with order. No orders can be filled
without coupon.
COUPON
Thu coupon and $1.06 entitle* sender
i to on«_ O. K. Elcctrio To ante r or ooe
Parisian Electric Comb and Drier on 10
days trial.
Wee tern Merchandise <£ Supply Con,