Newspaper Page Text
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Daysey Mayme
And Her Folks
By FRANCES L. GARS IDE.
T HE two pillow cushions, which,
with the Honorable I.ysandor
John Appleton, Kin Commis
sioner General of the United States,
compose the Pillow Cushion Club, sat
stiff, upright and unbending in their
corners, waiting for the meeting to
begin.
It was a joy for the speaker of th“
evening to look at them. So well-
stuffed, so self-satisfied, so blank of
expression; they looked like women
whose sole ambition in life is to keep
their figures, and who place all their
hope in a straight-front corset,
Lysander John gave them an en
couraging smile. "My wife and daugh
ter," he said, "who spend most of
their time from home reading papers
on How to Make Home Life Beauti
ful, never had audiences more in
telligent and appreciative than mine,
Ladies, I thank you!
"I have delved into Emerson, I have
wandered through Carlyle, and I have
failed to find any problems more
serious than those I will submit to
night. As members of the Pillow
Cushion Club we must grapple with
these questions. We must never again
shirk our share of the burden of the
world’s progress.
"Doubt, my dear audience, if mv
wife and daughter at any of their
various clubs in the past month have
wrestled with more vital questions
than those I will lay before you this
evening.
"First, How soon after an article >s
How England Trains Her Boys for Nava! Fighting Men
borrowed is it proper to go over witn
an excuse demandinr its return?
“If a friend buys an automobile,
can it be construed as a gentle nint
if you buy yourself an automobile
coat?
“When a man’s family consists of
himself and wife, and he buys a four-
passenger car, does that indicate a
kind, generous disposition, or a de
sire to escape being bored to death
by riding alone with his wife?
“If either must be. slighted in a
meal, the soup or fb » pudding, whi.-li
should it be? In other words, Is it
wiser to smooth down the bristles 'if
•emperamental man by starting him
feeling good at a meal, or to finish
him feeling satisfied?
"Is it economical and proper these
hard times to bury a woman's false
hair with her, when, with a little
change In the color, her husband’s
next wife might wear it?
“My next problem.’’ he concluded
'‘is one which will not permit of our
speedy adjournment if we attempt to
solve it. It is this: How many dif
ferent ways are there for a man tb
act the fool?”
’Phone or Wire.
Thei following letter appears In a
Boston newspaper:
Sir—I called at your editorial rooms
yesterday, entering the outer cham
ber. The boy was absent. On the
door, which was closed, leading to the
sanctum sanctorium, was a sign. “No
Admittance.” On the wall next to the
door was another sign, “No Loitering
Here.” The question is, what’s a fel
ler to do? F. H. L.
Fish Not Wanted.
"I hear you’re going to marry Archie
Blueblood. Diana. Is it true?” asked
one young society woman of another.
“Marry him? I should think not!
What on earth could I do with the
man? He can’t ride, he can’t t>lav
tennis, golf, nor, for that matter, can
he even drive a motor car!”
“Oh," said the friend, "but he can
swim beautifully, you know.’’
"Swim, indeed! Now. I ask you.
would you like a husband you bad to
keep in an aquarium?”
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The pictures are of sailor boys in the British navy being reviewed on the training ship Exmonth. The top picture on the left
shows them in a gymnastic display in which they have agility that a circus acrobat might envy. On the right on top the picture
shows Prince Louis, of Battenberg, inspecting the boys, while the bottom picture shows a movement in the gymnastic drill.
ft
FROM LUCILE’S DIARY
A UNT RACHEL has been staying
with us on her way home from
California, and I have passed a
good deal of time with her. as I am ex
ceedingly fond of her. I really think I
am her favorite niece. One morning
when I was helping her dress—I love to
pay her little attentions—I found that
there were no buttonholes in the new
lingerie blouse she bad intended to
wear.
"Dear me’’’ I said “We must get
Cousin Fannie to rectify this at once.
She’ll be delighted to make the button
holes for you."
"Why don’t you make them for me.
Lucile?” asked Aunt Rachel.
“Why, you see ” I began, and then
hesitated.
"Yes. I see, Lucile." Aunt Rachel
said. “You don't count buttonhole
making among your accomplishments.
In my day a young woman was not con
sidered well bred if she could not make
a perfect buttonhole."
“You make me quite ashamed of my
shortcomings," I told her. “You see,
Cousin Fannie has always be^n rather
proud of her beautiful buttonholes, and
it would have seemed like infringing on
her rights if I had taken to making
them. too. Dear Cousin Fannie is a lit
tle sensitive, and I don't like to hurt her
feelings "
“It's quite possible that she would
like you to share her glory," Aunt
Rachel remarked. "If you wish to
learn. I’ll agree to make It right %vlth
Fannie."
That afternoon I went to Cousin 'Fan
nie’s room and asked her to give me a
lesson in making buttonholes
"I’m awfully busy, Lucile," she said,
"for I’m trying to finish this waist that
Aunt Rachel gave me the silk for. 1
wish to wear it to-night at th** settle-
nt reception. If you have button
holes to make I’ll !»♦* giad to do them for
for you to-morrow."
I felt so disappointed that T said:
"Aunt Rachel criticises me because I
don’t know how to make buttonholes,
and you won't take the time to teach
me. I did so wish to learn this after
noon.” 1 could scarcely restrain my
tears as I spoke.
“Why, Lucile. If you are no much in
earnest about it of course I'll show you
how\" said Cousin Fannie.
So we went to work. I made button
hole after buttonhole all afternoon, for
I was determined if I made them at all
to excel. Cousin Fannie told me that
evening that with a little more practice
I should soon equal her. So I kept at
it every spare minute for two days un
til I felt competent to make the button.
J holes in Aunt Rachel's blouse. When
she saw them she was so surprised and
delighted at my skill that she immedi
ately offered to buy me the perfectly
charming chiffon set that 1 had been
talking to her about.
I was so enchanted at owning the cov
eted act that f made an occasion to
wear it by calling on Gertrude Bates the
very day I received it.
She was busy with the dressmaker,
hut I sat quite a while chatting until
her brother, Carl, came home. T was
just going when Gertrude remarked that
the little silk coat which was being
made was all done but the three large
buttonholes. I offered to make them.
“Why. do you know how to make but
tonholes?” she exclaimed.
I replied by taking the garment and
setting to work with a nonchalance that
l was amused to see alarmed her.
“Well, you’re a wonder," said Carl
when I had made a buttonhole and he
had examined it. "I don't believe my
tailor could beat this.”
As it was growing late, I suggested
that Gertrude allow me to take the
coat homo and finish the buttonholes
the next day.
Rather Tired.
I was rather tired the next morn
ing, as I had been sewing so much
more than I was accustomed to do, so
I asked Cousin Fannie to make the
two remaining buttonholes in Ger
trude’s coat. She works so rapidly that
I knew it would be no trouble to her.
I was glad to have them done, for
George Requier called up on the phone
and asked me to go out to his tennis
club that afternoon.
As I had so suitable wrap, I wore
Gertrude’s fascinating little coat. I
thought she would be glad to have me
wear it after all the work I had done
for her. I was astonished when I
saw her walking toward me across the
courts, for I naturally supposed she was
at home with the dressmaker.
“This Is a jolly surprise,” I said
gayly, trying to niak<* room for her on
the bench. *
"It’s certainly a surprise," she re
plied coldly, and, looking fixedly at the
jacket, she passed on.
1 explained to George she must be
suffering from one of her severe head
aches, for I could not bear to have
him think any friend of mine would
be so rude.
Although I sent her the coat by par
cel post the next day, I have not had
a single word of acknowledgment or
thanks from her. Gertrude, I fear,
does not number gratitude among her
grace*
WAYNESVILLE, N. C.
$8.90 Round Trip $8.90
| Tickets wold August 4 to 0
> Limit August 20. Account General
< Sunday school and Epworth League
( Conference. M. E. church. South.
Sf)I’THERN RAIL\V A Y.
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS
One of the Greatest Mystery Stories
Ever Written
By ANNA KATHARINE GREEN.
(Copyright,
1913, by Anna
Green.)
Katharine
TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT.
“Let me see It." cried she, and Mr.
Gryce, greatly pleased at the success
of his trick, handed her the picture of
Qenevieve Gretorex, satisfied that If
this good woman continued to find It
like the Mildred Farley she had men
tioned, he should find that Mildred Far
ley was the name the young woman he
had himself first taken for the original
of this picture, and In whose fate de
spite his reason and his years he had
found himself so much interested that
he had come here at this late hour of the
night to learn her name, and If possible,
her dwelling place.
Ills success surpassed his hopes. The
old lady looked at the picture, shook hdr
head and looked again.
Somewhat Different.
"How these photographs can de
ceive?" cried she. “If 1 had not stopped
to look at this twice, I would have sworn
It was Mildred Farley’s face, but 1 see
now that she wears her hair quite dif
ferent, and that she is older and much
better dressed than Mildred could ever
hope to be. Nevertheless, there Is a
very striking similarity, and I should
like to see Miss Miss ”
“Handscombe.” put In the detective
“ and Mildred together It would
be a'pleasing study.” And she stared
long and earnestly at the picture, wind
lng up with: "I should like to show It
to Mildred.”
This was putting herself exaotly in
the position desired by Mr. Gryce.
“You can do so,” he observed, “If
you do not have to carry it far not
keep it long. Does Mildred live any
where near you? Can you see her to
night?”
“She lives In my rourth story front
room, sir; Mildred Farley is one of my
boarders.”
Mr. Gryce stroked his trembling right
knee with a very loving hand. "One of
your boarders,” he repeated. “She is
doubtless then upstairs asleep."
“No, poor girl, no. She is a dress
maker and sometimes does not close her
eyes till 1 o’clock at night. She is not
asleep, but come to think of It, she is
not in the house at all. She went away
for a short vacation a few days ago,
and though she promised to be home
this afternoon, I believe she did not
come. It has always been my hope that
Dr. Moles worth would marry her. She
Is a lovely girl and he is a very fine man.
Why, then, shouldn't they come to*
gether?”
“And what you makes you think
they will not? Why shouldn't It be
she he is going to marry?”
“Why? Because they would have
tokl me. He knows and she knows
there Is nothing 1 wish so much. It
would be preposterous for them to
keep it to themselves after all I have
said. No, if Dr. Molesworth is going to
marry any one land I don't believe yet
he is), it must be some ridiculous chit
of a girl he has met away from here*
and—Mildred why. Lena!"
This exclamation was caused by the
appearance at the door of a voung girl
who the moment she saw Mr. Gryce,
shrank back and started to run away
But the emphatic “Lena!" stopped
her, and in a moment the old lady was
in the hall: a whisi>ered conference en
sued, followed by the rc-entrance of
the good woman with a note In her
hand.
“Well, I never!" she exclaimed, look
ing first at the letter she held and then
at the feeble figure of the old man who
had risen with well feigned indifference
as if to go. ‘ A note from Dr. Moles
worth, which he left on purpose
for me! and that girl forgot to give it
to me till now! What can he have to
Bay!" And breaking the seal, she read
the few enclosed lines with a growing
wonder that ended in the Joyous ex
clamation of “Good gracious. It Is Mil
dred. after all! He Is going to marry
her to-night, and bring her home to
morrow. Well, I will give up. Never
a word to me about it. and I so fond
of them both! 1 don’t understand it,
folks are so queer.” And she fluttered
to and fro In ill-disguised Joy, talking
and muttering to herself, while Mi
Gryce pulled bis muffler about him and
began to move slowly toward the door.
“1 declare," she broke in, as her at
tention was recalled to him by this
movement, “it does seem a pity for you
to go out again into the cold. If you
think you would be better here, I have
an empty room." But at this moment
a carriage was heard to stop before the
door, and, startled into a new train of
thought by this unwonted occurrence,
she moved towards the front windows,
exclaiming: “I do believe they have
come now!"
A Tragedy.
But at her first glance through the
curtains she drew back with a fright
ened air, and crying, “Oh, what can
this mean!” hurried towards the door
with every sign of intense agitation.
Mr. Gryce at once took her place at
the window, but he did not look out,
for at that moment a man’s voice was
heard in the hall, and the wary detec
tive thought It prudent to resume his
role of the self-absorbed, semi-obllvious
old man whose Infirmities were so en
grossing he had neither eyes nor ears
for what went on about him. It was
well he did so, for In another moment
his lmperturbality received a great
shock by the certainly unlooked-for en
trance of two men bearing a burden
which, at one glance, showed Itself to
he the inert form of a young woman.
From the appearance of one of these he
Judged him to be I>r. Molesworth. They
were followed by the landlady, crying
and wringing her hands.
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“Mildred! Mildred! What has hap
pened to you, poor girl!” came in pierc
ing tones from the latter, as the sad
burden, having been deposited on a
sofa, she approached, and drew aside
the cloak which had hitherto concealed
the face.
“O God! how pale she is; how cold!
Doctor, has she only fainted or Is
she—“
“Dead.’’ came from his lips In deep
and thrilling tones, while his gaze
sought the landlady’s face and rested
there with an intentness he might not
have displayed had he noticed the old
manmumbling and chattering to him
self in a corner.
"And what has killed her? What has
destroyed my poor girl, the very night
you hoped to marry’ her?”
“Shall I tell you?” The doctor had
waved the man aside who had assisted
him in his fearful task, and now stood
with folded arms side by side with the
landlady, looking down upon the still,
set face which, with the blue robe that
enshrouded the form, were already so
well known to the watching detective.
"She preferred this bridal to the one I
had planned for her. Now you know
all.” And wifh Just one more deep and
searching look at the landlady’s startled
face, he walked up to his assistant.
“That Is all,” said he. “I will do the
rest. The coroner will probably be here
soon and—who are you?"
This was aid to a small, slight man
who at this moment appeared In the
doorway.
“I am a detective, sir.” was the reply,
and he was doubtless going to say more,
but ho caught an unexpected sight of
Mr Gryce, and paused in some con
fusion. lie had recognized a superior.
As for Mr. Gryce himself he had
scarcely poticed the young man: he was
too intent upon the doctor who. at the
utterance of the word detective, had
wheeled suddenly about wth the evident
intention of hiding his surprise. But a
mirror hung oposite him. and in this
the watchful eye of Mr Gryce detected
such an expression of uncontrollable
shock and anxiety that he Inwardly con
gratulated himself over the curiosity
which had drawn him to this house.
The confusion, If there was such. In
the physician’s mind, was but momen
tary. In an Instant he turned and con
fronting the intruder, asked with some
severity:
“And what work Is there for a detec
tive here? The young lady has taken
poison and is dead. I have notified the
coroner ”
“Pardon me.” interrupted the other,
with every appearance of humility and
respect. “I have come from the coroner.
I am only a messenger and my errand
is to say that as he can not come until
morning it might relieve you to have
me to etop here and see that there la no
interference with the remalna It la &
common duty and it is not the first tlmn
I have performed it."
A Word of Protest.
"But It la nobody's duty to watch over
this poor girl's body but myself," broko
In the landlady, with hearty Indigna
tion "T)o you forget that It la a w om
an and a lady you are talking about and
do you think I wtu stand by and see
any man, much less a stranger, take tho
place which only one of her own aex
should occupy? she ht no relative of
mine, but I loved her and—doctor, yoa
have some regard for her memory, I am
sure; sen<j that man away; he has al
ready been here too long."
And with a care that was almost
motherly In Its tenderness, she drew
the end of the cloak once again over thg
poor dead face, dropping a tear as she
did so. which was not unseen by Mr.
Gryce If It was unappreciated by the
stern and bttter-souled physician.
"But, madam"—that stranger be-
gan.
Stop! cried Dr. Molesworth, M I will
explain to her And in a few words h#
told her how In eases of violent death.
It was thought advisable for the Coroner
to see the victim as soon after decease
as possible, ami when, as In this case,
circumstances demanded delay, no one.
not even a mother could rightfully Inter
fere with whatever surveillance the
Coroner thought it his duty to impose
So you will let this man stay here, and
I will stay, too: for It la as much my
wish as yours that every respect should
he shown the one whom living I hon
ored sufficiently to wish to make my
wife.”
The landlady shook her head with an.
aggressive air. but mads no further pro
test. Dr. Molesworth pointed to a chair
and the representative of the Coroner
sat down; then while the former glanced
at Mr. Gryce, who had just caught hl»#
attention, & slight noise was heard ltx
the hall and a second stranger entered,
"What does this mean?” angrily cried
the doctor “Is it possible that the front
door has been left open?” And
brusquely pushing by the newcomer,
he shut the offending door and them
coming back, asked his business of th*
last arrival.
The fellow, who wns slimmer than th*
other and much more dapper, pulled a
Ninall book and pencil from his pocket.
It was enough. Dr. Molesworth recog
nized a reporter, and gave hla Irrltatiom
full play.
“You aro Intruding,” cried he. “Thi»,
is a private house and no one asked you*
to enter. As for the calamity which*
has occurred, learn of It how and where*
you will; I shall tell you nothing.”
To Be Continued To-morrow.
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