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\ UOUST 30 (Being in the form | th«* nur*
/A of a supposititious dialogue he- y
tween Sally Spencer and my
self. She 1b away off in Parle, ab
sorbed in the vanities of this world,
and I am a helpless fnvalld, confined
w
time to stf
come had'
You are a
he tak«n
I think it very un-
.ix, to quote that nurse
I have such a short
l have a good notion to
home and discharge her
e to travel now and can
>me where Richard* and
A Bachelor’s Diary
| Tennis and Golf by Night—An Autumn Fad
The Roses
By MAX.
A TRAGEDY IN RUSSIAN LIFE
rrv.
Tompkins and I can nurse you, or k»
to a cottage in the northernmost a man nurse for that matter "
woods of thiB country, with much
MAX: '*1 don’t want a man nurse.
time to reflect on the probabilities of ' ■ * ... ...
my reward, or punishment. In th J There would be none of that delight
next. The Imaginary Sally I. sittln* ! r, ‘' ^Tr/’ f , wUh a n '« n nur “"
in the little low rocker that nwn>v ■* nd n " hate one 1 are . m"
emptily With the wind, hack nn , kettinK lonely In the l.,n K hour- of ,h.
forth, on the porch be.lde me In that I n, * h ' r. al ' ,n * ,or ™V " ur *‘ 0
antallringlv suggestive way that ' »" d *'» «**'«« »" d »7> no1 ■
mptv rocker, have.) my forehead and hold mv hand and
SALLY: ”1 ran atav only a short hav,n * " *?••»> big uglv. whlskerr,.
Ime. Max. 1 had to wait a few min- I won't have It’ l am
utes In the Bon Marche for a fitting ! i !"' , ** ,rI < people always hat
,hd thought I would make a mental " hn < lh *'- ««•"' nnd I want mv pre.
.-l.lt with you while walling. Ho. ' th ' nk irr ' v ';ry self-
are vou. mv dear’ You look like a '*»>. •« •'-grudge me the only
mummy wUh all tho.e blanketa and I co-npensatlon Hc_kne.^affords a mao
rugs around you, but not as sick as I
had expected Perhaps that prettv
nurse you have written so much about
is prolonging your Illness with a
motive.”
MAX: “It is possible that the mo-
ive is on my side.”
It Stops.
SALLY: “You don’t mean to sav,
\Tax. that JtOS have btCdM such nn
imbecile that you condemn yourself
to cushions and calomel and airbags
for the pleasure you get In having
some silly girl wipe your face an1
hands and look solicitous when you
sigh, and comb your hair and tell you
what a fine-shaped head you have,
and hold your hands every time you
have an imaginary pain? Max, I am
ashamed of you
a sympathy that demands no chap
eron.”
(The rocker stopped swinging hack
and forth The imaginary Sally i?
looking away off into the woods, hut I 1
fancy she doesn’t see the royal color
of scarlet and gold the trees have put
on. Perhaps there are tears in her
eyes, and the color** she sees seem
rain-draggled, fihe turns, and wher
she speaks again her voice is low and
hn* a note of helplessness In it that
distresses me.)
SALLY: “It In all a tangle, mv life
and Jack’s and yours. I have tried
so hard to he good, Max. hut with a
husband who strays after every new j
petticoat, and whom T can’t love with- i
nut compelling myself to love him.
and with the man I do love throwing 1
himself a wav on a woman who can
A '
rMj
I i
M4,
nk
MAX: “You are losing your tact, never care for him as I have cared |
The right way to talk to a man when 1 for years -why. Max. I—I don’t know |
he is sick is to call him a martyr nn1 what to do!”
a hero Instead of an Imbecile.” (Tt Is my turn to look at the trees ,
SALLY “1 suppose that's the sort without seeing their beauty It weeim
of soothing syrup that nurse hands t J to me now that all I raw was n little
you? I see It is time I came home , narrow path that wound In and out
from Paris and took you In charge. 1 among the gold-flecked shadows of
How many, many times are you g>- the woods, and that lost Itself some-
!ne to make It necessary for me to 1 where In their depths. It would he
save you from other women?”
MAX: “Save me for whom?”
fine to take Sallv by the hand and
lead her down that path and neve/
(Tho rocker, which hart rw a vert know its ending! I am Interrupted
rapldlv when the Imaginary Bally wa-i In my musing* bv a sudden rnnve-
scoldlng me. stopped short. There Is ment by Sally. She has risen, nnrt
_ l. — . M ...,, .. o hop f h WAtit n hpr
silence. Then It begins t© sway
i has
rorne to me. and has thrown her
again but the Imaglnarv Sallv has arms around mv neck and Is kissing
turned her head so that 1 can not «•* ! me In the manner o' which 1 have
her face, and she changes the sub- often dreamed. Good men are good
Ject when she begins talking.) I also In their dreams. But are there
SALLY: "I suppose you know that j any ~ood men?
Jack Is with me in Paris’ That means jj e Wonders.
I have something more to do than to
match rthborfs and laces. The widow 1 HALLY: "T won’t give you up I
Is there, ton.” j kept the widow from marrying you.
MAX: "Ton did not say for who.P [ an(1 j warn yo n t will keep the pretty
y °SALLY '"”f a am m mn*t rordlal wit* j nurse from getting you If I have to go
her. Ho cordial and so delighted when ! to the limit I want you for myself.
I hear Jack Is with her that ho Is I have wanted you for years. Every
growing suspicious He asked me this hour of the. day and night 1 have
morning when dressing for breakfast thought only of you. though every-
If 1 was growing tiro-t of him and one believed I was such a devoted
wanted to get rbl of him." «-lfe. 1 deceived even -oti! I haven t
MAX “Do you?" , been good in nm thoughts, hut no
SALLY T hope vou will be satis- woman who doesn’t love her hu?b«nd
fled with the winter clothes I bought | is good In her thoughts. It Is impos-
for Manette. They cost more than Bible. Max! T don’t love my huwwnfl.
ever before, hut the child la no longer and T do love you, and I know!
* • A clock In Mrs. Allens dining room
strikes, and even when a woman is
making love to a man she can’t keep
it
The tennis court and golf links at night.
No longer are the willfully unathletic to have the ex
cuse that they cannot play outside games because of the
pressure of business. Artificially lit lawn courts and a
golf links have come into being, as these photographs hear
witness. The courts and the “course” in question are at
the Woodbury Country Club, at Woodbury, N. J., and
were designed and installed hv Thomas J. Little, .Jr. The
light is applied by the latest type of incandescent gas
lamps, which, it is claimed, are better for the purpose
than electric lights. There are four lawn tennis courts.
The golf “course”—for putting only—is 80 feet long by
40 feet wide, and .has nine holes.
n baby to he confined to the company
of her nurse and governess, and must
dress better You will laugh when I
tell vou there Is a party dress ”
MAX: “I don’t care what you
bought I never care. Tt doesn’t In
terest me and never has, and you
know I never look at the bills. The
nursQ nays ”
RALLY: "And I don’t, care what
a dressmaker waiting. Evidently II
reminded mv dream visitor of the
garment waiting a fitting In the Ron
Marche, for before It had ceased
striking the hour Pally was gone.
Rut I wonder if she is that kind of
a Rally In her thought?.
Household Suggestions
Poor Mrs. Craig
M ISS BELINDA dropped with a
tired sigh into a seat on her own
porch and her brother Ben
frowned at her with disapproval
"Look here, young woman,” he be
gan sternly, “how long are you going
to keep this thing up? First thing you
know I’ll have to send for a trained
nurse for you or at least park you off
to a reat cure at 9afe distance from
the Craigs ’’
"Nonsense. Ren, I’m all right. You
greatly exaggerate what I do for poor
Mrs. Craig ”
"Well, I don't exaggerate when I
tell you that you have passed forty-two
hours with poor Mrs. Craig in the last
week. I have kept.time on you.”
"How ridiculous to do that! I’d no
idea, though, that I’d been at the farm
so much. Still, it would he simply
brutal not to do what I can for Mrs.
Craig when she is QJ. and there’s no one
but the boys to wait on her or do any
thing about the house. The hoys are
very busy in the fields Just now, too.”
"Why In the name of all that’s sensi
ble doesn't she keep a girl?”
"1 think she would if she could find
one. Girls are scarce In this neighbor
hood ’’
"What’s the matter with that little
Molly Johnson you sometimes have to
help Norah? Why couldn’t she work for
Mrs. Craig?"
"Well,” Miss Belinda laughed, "the
matter with Molly Is that her eyes are
much too blue and her cheeks quite too
pink. Do you Imagine Mrs. Craig la
keen on offering that particnlar kind of
1 temptation to her bachelor sons?"
Not to Rest.
"It’s an outrage that she should de
pend upon her neighbors to take care
of her and run her house I hope you’ll
have sense enough to stay at home this
afternoon and rest "
"I shall stay at home."
"And res*?*’
"Well, part of the time, perhaps; but
now I must make a cake."
"Why not let Norah make the cake?
If she can’t we can easily go without
It.”
"Oh. this cake isn’t for us. To-mor
row is Jimmie Craig’s birthday ami poor
Mrs. Craig is terribly disappointed be
cause she isn’t able to make angel s food
for him It seems that that great six-
footer, who looks as if he had never
tasted anything lees substantial than
nnrk and beans, quite dote9 on angel's
rood ”
"You little woolly lamb! So you
promised to make him one. Why don’t
you crochet him a necktie, too?"
'In order to reinstate myself In your
good opinion let me tell you that I have
persuaded Mrs Craig to get a woman
with a child, who will he glad to have
a country home. I know there are
plenty of them and I’ve written to Fan
nie Drayton to find one through her
^settlement work.”
"That's a good idea. Re sure to order
one with dull eyes and sallow cheeks.
By the way. here’s a letter from Fannie
that came while you were gone."
Miss Belinda’s face brightened as she
read the letter. "Fannie says she
knows a good woman with a dear little
girl that she would love to bring up In
the country. Oh. Ben, Isn’t It splendid?
Fannie had been hunting for Just such
a chance for the widow and what a good
thing it will be to poor Mrs. Craig!
I must write Fannie to send her at
once."
"No, I’ll call her up on the long-dis
tance and ask her to send them out to
morrow."
I.Ate the next afternoon Miss Belinda
and her brother drove to the station
ahd returned with a capable hut sad-
loeklng mother and child. After giving
them a comfortable supper Miss Be
linda conveyed them to the Craig farm,
where, through her offices, they were
expected.
Her Story.
■‘lit will be a relief to know that poor
Mrs. Craig has some one to look after
her and the housekeeping,” said Miss
Belinda that night.
But when the next day came the
woman and the child came also, with
the tidings that Mrs. Craig had sent
them away.
"There mult he some misunderstand
ing," sighed Miss Belinda. "You rest
here and I’ll run over to the farm and
have a talk with Mrs. Craig ”
When she returned, looking discour
aged, her brother said. "Well, how
about it?"
"Ben. Just think of it! That woman
was actually willing to work for the
board of herself and the little girl, hut
Mrs. Craig was vexed because she
washed out the child’s one little frock
this morning She said she couldn’t af
ford to furnish laundry soap for the
child’s washing! When I remonstrated
against her losing good help for such
a small matter, she said, very blandly,
‘With such a good neighbor as you.
Miss Belinda 1 don’t see that I really
need any hired help? ”
"Well. I’ll be Jiggered! But fy?w about
our oTerhaaty Importation” that's to
be done with the woman and child?”
"They’re to stay here and build up on
country air and good food for a while,
and then I’ll try to find them a perma
nent home. You don't mind their staying
here, do you, Ben?”
"Oh, no. But I must make one re
quest, Belinda, and that is that you
won’t talk to me any more about your
poor Mrs. Craig."
Handsome Is
"Why. haven't I been good to you?
Look at the handsome engagement
.ring I gave you.”
"Yes. I took it down to a pawnshop
the other day to see what I could get
on it, and he asked mo what 1
wanted for it—inarblea or skipping
ropo.”
Leather chair? often become greasy
looking where the arms and head
rest on the leather. To remove these
marks try linseed oil. Boil half a
pint of oil and let It stand until
nearly cold, then pour in half a pint
of vinegar. Stir till it is well mixed,
and bottle, when It Is ready for use.
Put a few drops on a flannel and
polish with soft duster. This will
thoroughly renovate all leather.
In cases of emergency a kettle or
saucepan can he heated over a candle
by the following means: Stand two
chair? (with rungs) fairly near to
gether. Place a lighted candle on the
floor between the two. Then lay a
pair of flre-tongs ac.ros? the rung? of
the two chairs and on the tongs place
a small kettle or saucepan imme
diately over the candle. The water
does not take long to boll.
Flatirons become rusty if left in a
damp place or it put away flat when
warm. Rub them first with beeswax,
then with dry, coarse salt, using a
short, hard brush. When heating
irons it Is wise to remove them from
a lighted gas-ring after a few min
utes have elapsed, and to wipe away
the tiny specks of moisture which
will he found to have formed.
To remove smoke-mark? from ceil
ings, mix a thick paste of starch and
water, and with a clean flannel spread
it over the mark. Allow it to get
thoroughly dry, then brush off with
a soft brush and the marks will
have disappeared.
Before using table oilcloth, paste
at each corner on the wrong side a
square of cotton. This prevents the
corners from wearing out as soon as
they otherwise would.
To keep bread board? a beautiful
color, rub them well with half a
lemon: then wash them in cold water,
and stand them in the wind or in the
sun to dry.
During hot weather small bags of
muslin filled with charcoal should be
hung in the pantry on either side of
the meat. This will keep it fresh in
the hottest weather.
When cooking liver and bacon get
a sour apple, slice it very finely, and
add it to the gravy. This will im
part a delicious* flavor, which i? a
great improvement.
To give potatoes a flavor add half
a teaspoonful of sugar, as well as
salt, when boiling. This does not
make them too sweet, but gives a
delicious flavor.
Tactful.
Kind words may he more than
coronets, and simple faith may beat
Norman blood to a frazzle; but. after
all, tact Is the possession most dear
and most useful to the human race.
Mr. Daniels thought so, too.
When he left the house he had left
Mrs Daniels with a lady friend,
whose abilities as a scandal-monger
and mischief-maker are pre-eminent.
When he returned he Just poked his
head Into the drawing room.
"That old cat gone, I suppose”” he
said, with a sigh of relief.
For Just an instant there was a
dreadful silence, for as he uttered the
last word he encountered the stony
glare of the lady who had been in his
mind. Then Mrs. Daniel? spoke quite
calmly.
"The old cat?” she said. "Oh, yes,
dear. I sent it to the Cats’ Home in
a basket first thing this morning!”
His Love
A CHARMING SHORT STORY
Do You Know-
I N the wild and inaccessible canyon
of the Tlmok River, which forms
the boundary line between Servia
and Bulgaria, lies a little mountain
hamlet, Vardak.
In days of old, while th« Christian
Serbs were fighting their Turkish op
pressors. Vardak was the refuge of
hundreds from Turkish violence.
l-Yutn thl? village they renewed their
fight with new vigor. Nowadays Var
dak i? a peaceful village seldom vis
ited by strangers. The inhabitants
know little or nothing of the out
side world and many generation? died
without knowing anything of the
great national movement which swept
the country. Even when the great
war of liberation set all Serbian
hearts aflame the storm of enthusi
asm hardly touched Vardak. Only
old Ljuba and three other men. armed
to the teeth, defended into the valley
to fight the arch enemy, but none of
them ever returned and after a few
years they were completely forgotten.
It was taken for granted that they
had lost their live? fighting the Turks,
for what Serbian peasant would not
have hurried pack to his house and
hearth if he went through the war
unharmed?
In this quiet, remote village,
Mladen grew up. When his father.
Ljuba, descended into the valley to
fight the Turks he wa? still a baby,
and now when he had grown Into a
tal! and powerful young man, and
earned his living herding the cat
tle of the rich peasant. Arsen, did
nor remember a single feature of
his father’?. But when he looked at
the old rusty arms on the walls in
the miserable hut he had inherited
from hls mother, or when he listened
to old blind Jezdlmlr’s tales of the
feats of hi? ancestors, the cruelties
of the enemy and the desperate fights
he naw before hls inner eye an image
of fatner. ns a tall, broad-shouldered
warrior, thirsting for adventure and
rovenge, and often while he was herd
ing hls cattle near the river he
dreamed of himself fighting the Turks
and returning home as a hero cov
ered with glory He saw Arsen run
ning to meet him. embracing him and
crying: "You are a brave fellow,
Mladen, and as a reward, I am happy
to accept you a? my daughter Milit-
za’s husband.”
Mladen loved Milltza. though she
did not know it. How should Milttza.
the richest girl in the village, about
whom all the young men were fight
ing , have suspected that her father’s
humblest hireling dared raise his eyes
to her?
His Secret.
Mladen kept the secret of his love
to himself, and did not even mention
it to old Jezdimlr.
Then the wonderful thing happened.
One wintry day, when a terrible bliz
zard wa? raging in the mountains and
Vardak was entirely cut off from the
world, a stranger arrived In the vil
lage. He went straight to the rich
Aroen’s farm and said that he was
Sergeant Janko Vilutln, and that the
King of Belgrade had declared war
against Bulgaria and now called all
men to the colors. Even* man capable
of hearing arms must meet at Zijecar
within 24 hours.
This wa? the message of the King,
and when Mladen heard it his hqart
began beating wildly and he began
to think of all the stories Jezdimir
had told him of wild, cruel-looking
men swinging their bloody scimitars
and singing their songs of war; but
when he heard that he was to fight
the Bulgarian?, not the Turks, he
shook his head. This seemed so un
natural. The Bulgarians living on
the other side of the Timok were good
Christians, praying to the same sainis
a? the Rerbs.
But, of course, the mighty King in
Belgrade must know what he i? doing,
and it is not for an ignorant peas
ant to trouble his brain trying to
understand his order?. The King had
issued an order, and all the men of
Vardak obeyed and hurried to get
ready for their departure.
He is Picked.
There were twenty young men al-
together, and among these was
Mladen. They were to leave for
Zizecar at dawn,the next day. Many
a mother clasped her young son In
her arms and many a young girl cried
until her eye? were red at the thought
that she might never see her lover
again, but nobody wept for Mladen,
for he had neither parents nor sweet
heart. But the rich Arsen supplied
him well with provisions and Milltza
shoo^ his hand cordially and present
ed him with a holy ikon of the Vir
gin. When she felt how his hand
trembled in hers she asked in sur
prise: "Why do you tremble so.
M laden ?”
But Mladen did not answer. He
let go her hand, and silently and with
bowed head he joined hi? comrades.
• • •
Two brother nations that only a
few years previous had been sighing
under the same yoke were now at
war, a senseless' war of foolish am
bition. Bloody battles were fought
at Silvetzn, Zarinrod and Pirot. The
Bulgarians were victorious and the
Rerbs fled demoralized and in wild
disorder, an army of ragged and ex
hausted creatures, thousands of whom
found their deaths in the blizzard in
the mountains near Pirot. When
night fell, the fate of the Serb? was
sealed.
Among the thousand? who re
mained on the battlefield was Mladen.
A shell had torn nwav his right leg
and the wheel of an ammunition cart
had crushed his chest. But Mladen
did not want to die. He felt no pain,
but was warm and comfortable now
that the blizzard had stopped and the
moon was making night almost as
r'ght as day.
He raised his head and across his
pale lips came the sound of a name,
and she whose name he called bent
down over him with a tender smile,
and asked: "Why do you tremble,
Mladen?”
And he told her why, for now he
felt as brave as never before:
“I love you, Milltza.'*
And she did not grow angry at all.
She smiled and looked at him kindly
with her big blue eyes and he felt her
warm breath on his cheek. He could
not control himself any longer. He
threw hls arms passionately aroun<
her neck. And while hls hot, fever
ish hands caught hold of the frozen
grass. Mladen fell back into the snow
and with a happy smile on hi? lipe ho
gave up his young soul.
A novel use of compressed air is
made by railway companies In the
Southern States of America. When
the loads of cotton are being taken
to the coast there Is always danger
of their becoming damaged through
sparks from the locomotives. To pre
vent this, the locomotive boilers are
filled with compressed air. A train
load of several thousand bales of cot
ton can be hauled by these locomo
tives at a rate of twelve miles an
hour, although no fire is used in
working them.
Following the proposal for a tax
on bachelors in France, the society
“La Race Francaise” suggests that
every male citizen who either has not
three children alive or who has not
reared three children to the age of
21 should he taxed $5.50 a year for
each child below the number of three
This would apply to both bachelor!
and married men. Such a tax, it is
estimated, would produce about $100,-
000,000 a year.
Doubtless the most unique spot in
Europe is the little village of Alten-
berg, on whose border three coun
tries meet. It i? ruled by no mon
arch, has no soldiers, no police, and
no taxes. Its inhabitants speak a
curious jargon of French and Ger
man combined, and spend their days
In cultivating the land or working
in the valuable calamine mine of
which the village boast?.
Clocks are now made to run five
years with once winding up. In 1881
the Belgian Government placed one
of these in a railway station and
sealed it. It has kept capital time,
having been six times wound—in 1886,
1891. 1&96, 1901, 1905 and 1911: and
there is a clock in the Church of St.
Quentin, in Mayence, which has only
stopped once during a period of 500
years.
“Aladdin’s lamp, in good working
order, price 500.000 pounds.” i? the
inscription on a card attached to a
curious-looking lamp exposed for sale
in the Hhop-window of a Kingston
antique dealer.
A pen-nib i? a little thing, yet there
is more ?teel used In the manufac
ture of nib? than in all the sword and
gun factories in the world. A ton
of steel produces alrcrat 1,500,000 pens.
Th£ cost of the navie? of the world
last year aggregated $725,000,000.
Figures compiled by the Depart
ment of Inland Revenue at Ottawa
show that the people of Canada la«t
year smoked 975,325,501 cigarettes,
an increase of nearly 200,000,000 over
the figures for 1911.
EXCURSION TO BIR
MINGHAM.
$2.50 round trip, Septem
ber 22. Special train leaves j
Old Depot 8:30 a. m. SEA-!
BOARD.
rpHE season of the rose seller? Is now
\ at its highest in the topsy-turvy
A ancient City of Moscow, which, in
spite of its sjucco German buildings
; and miniature skyscrapers, still seems
to recall the East at every Vomer of
its tortuous streets.
Even the rose-sellers here are differ-
1 mt from the pale-faced, tired-looking
men and women who ply the same trade
in the great cities of Western Europe.
! Every morning when the dawn is Just
beginning to break, and the sun, like a
great ball of fire, is forcing Its wav up
into the silver-gray sky, they take their
stand a ragged, barefooted band of
smiling urchins—on the new bridge be
side the Brest station.
This bridge, is one of the finest struc
tures in Moscow. At one end is the
Arc DeTriomphe. guarding the way to
the Tverskaia, the Piccadilly of Moscow
At the other is the boulevard which
twines its way through the great
beeches and sycamores of the Petrovsky
Park, in which are situated Yar, Streil-
na, Mauretania and the other boisterous
pleasure gardens of Moscow nightlife.
The bridge is thus the boundary be
tween the prosaic, businesslike Teu
tonic Moscow of the daytime and the
extravagantly riotous, nocturnal Moscow
of the Slav. On its friendly parapet the
little rose-seller? take their seats, dan
gling their half-naked legs against the
stone, singing snatches of Russian folk
songs, and waiting patiently for the re
turn of the belated pleasure-seekers to
their daily task.
Suddenly a "lekhatch”—a swift vic
toria with large rubber tires—or a motor
car, is heard afar off in the silent still
ress of the early morning. Some twelve
or thirteen ragamuffins spring from
their places and race to the middle of
the street. There is a quiet patter of
naked feet on the rough. Jagged cob
bles. For a moment the little hand
keeps pace with the passing vehicle.
The sellers jostle and push each other
in their eagerness, and with little re
gard" for their own safety snatch "a per
ilous foothold on the splashboard. And
all the while a fire of pleading requests
is kept up incessantly.
"Buy a rose, master!"
"Fresh roses, my lady? A double for
six.”
"See, master. I am hungry. I have
eaten nothing since yesterday morning.
Buy a rose radee Christa.”
He Buys.
And if the fat, pleasure-sated man in
the carriage shows little sign of yield
ing to these entreaties, the tired painted
woman by hls side is more sympathetic
and compels her companion to open his
purse. Besides she wants the flowers.
They remind her of long-forgotten
days and of the many things that might
have been.
In this way does the little army exact
l its toll from the passing stream of car-
j riages and cars
Life is hard, and the bent, worn-out
mother, who, as a "tender” In the cot
ton * mills, keeps the family alive on
the princely wage of thirteen rubles a
month, has need of all the copecks her
fourteen-year-old son can collect.
Rivalry Is, therefore, keen in this
children’s trade, but on the whole there
Is no bullying, no Jealousy, no 111 feel
ing. Occasionally, however, in the race
for first place, “desire outruns perform
ance,” an<i the movement of the thin,
bony legs is unable to keep pace with
the eagerness of the mind.
Motor cars are comparatively rare in
Moscow, and the rose sellers have not
yet learned to Judge their deceptive
pace with the same nicety as their 1
London prototypes.
And so sometimes It happens that the
bridge is a silent witness of a little
tragedy. Suddenly there Is a startled
shout of warning from the driver. The
car takes a wide swerve to the side.
A piercing shriek rings out In the cold
morning air.
A sickening thud follows. The car
stops, while a policeman comes forward
with his notebook.
The little fellow is taken Into the car
and driven off to the nearest police
station. In a few minutes the street
resumes Its normal appearance, and the
ragged little sellers return to their
"beat" on the bridge. They are sorry,
of course, as far as It lies In their
power to he sorry, but the battle for
bread knows no respite and the world
of pleasure must still be fed.
**••••
The Other Side.
In a little by-street across the river,
in the dirtiest part of the town, a frail,
shriveled-up little woman Is busily en
gaged In cleaning out her room. She
swears gently to herself every few min
utes. The samovar has been ready for
over an hour and her brat of a boy
has not yet come home.
Most likely he has gone off with the
other lads to play pitch and toss. She
is still meditating on the punishment
she will certainly mete out to him,
when a knock at the door disturbs her,
and the great, gruff voice of the door
keeper rings out:
"Maria Vasilyevna! Maria Vasilyevna!
You are wanted at the police station at
once."
A policeman pushes his way into the
room. Wonderingly she wraps a shawl
about her head and totters out into the
street. The neighbors gaze ai ner
lastly, curiously, and exchange guesses
as to the exact nature of the crime
Maria Vasilyevna has committed. At
the ouchastok she is ushered into the
superintendent’s office. He has a harsh
voice, but he looks at her not unkindly.
"See, little mother." he says stam
meringly, while he shuffles on the floor
with his heavy topboots, "there has been
an accktent.”
She bows her head resignedly.
"It is my Pavel, is it not?”
The officer nods assent. He takes her
into another room and shows her the
poor, emaciated body with the white,
pinched face and the wide open, startled
eyes. The little hand Is clenched tight
ly over a hunch of faded roses, as
though the instinct of self-preservation
so keenly developed amongst the very
poor had not left him even in death.
"Is that your son?” he asks.
Identified.
The answering "Yes” is swallowed
up in the muttering of a prayer. As
gently as he can the officer leads her
hack Into his office. The law must be
carried out, and the body has to be
identified. He shows her where to make
her mark In his book, for she can not
write her name. For a moment she
stands with clasped hands, her eyes
fixed on the room which she has just
left.
"Maye I take the roses with me?" 8he
asks pleadingly.
The reply is in the affirmative.
She goes back to the bare, cold mor
tuary. A bunch of faded roses is lying
beside the corpse. Greedily, cunningly,
as though afratd that the officer might
change hls mind, and without a thought
for the body beside her. she gathers up
the precious bundle. She counts them
over once, twice, lest there by any mis
take, then, with a quiet good-bye, she
takes her leave.
Once in her own home she puts the
flowers in water, but the faded petals
refuse to resume their appearance of
freshness.
"The devil takes them,” she mutters
disgustedly. "They are not worth ten
copeck—not even on the Tverskaia."
She takes a needle and pricks the
long green stems in a last effort to re
vive them, hut the flowers are as dead
as the child whom she has just left.
Yet, though with a sense of grief
Comes with the falling leaf.
And memory makes the summer
doubly pleasant.
In all my autumn dreams
A future summer gleams.
Passing the fairest glories of the
present.
—George Arnold.
Let the eweet heavens endure.
Nor close and darken above me
Before I am quite, quite sure j/
That there is one to love me; /
Then let come what may
To a life that has been so sad,
I shall have rriy day.
—From "Maud.**
When I sail to the Fortunate Island*
Over the violet sea.
May one friend, my heart’s friend.
Be there, a-sall with me.
On the breast of the deep, sweet waters.
In the arms of the white spray,
Sailing, sailing, sailing,
Till we come to Haven Bay.
In the peace of the Fortunate Islands,
By wood, and hill and shore,
May one friend, my soul’s friend,
Abide with me evermore.
—Louis MoQuilland.
The world wants men, large-hearted,
manly men;
Men who shall Join the chorus and
prolong
The psalm of labor and the psalm of
l°ve. —Selected.
—^LILIAN LATTFERTY.
Nothing In It.
"I regard conversation as a girt/*
remarked the etmlUAiK woman.
“It usually is,” replied Miss Cay
enne. “If people had to pay for It
there would be much less of it.”
INDIGESTION?
6top it quickly; Have your grocer send
you one doz. bottles of
SHIVA R
GINGER ALE
Drink with meals,
and if not prompt
ly relieved, get
your money back
at our expense.
Wholesome. deli
cious, refreshing
Prepared with the
Miebrated Shivar
Mineral Water and
the purest flavoring materials.
SHIVAR SPRING, Manufacturers
SHELTON, 8. C.
E. L. ADAMS CO., Distributors, Atlanta,
A Weak Stomach ?
(J, Have you indigestion or dys
pepsia, a torpid liver or any
other of the many iHs com
ing from a weak stomach T
DR. PIERCE’S
Qolfien Medical Discovery
for forty years has done a
“lion’s share’’ in eliminating
these distressing ailments.
, Ordsr a Bottle from
El Your Druggist today
/~nes Scott College
ihe Session Will Open Wednesday,
September 17th, 10 o'Clock A. M.
The Committee on Admission of Students will
meet at the College Monday and Tuesday, 9 o’clock
to 12:30, for classification of new students.
All desiring to apply for admission to CoUege urged
to meet the Committee Monday or Tuesday. Dor
mitories will not be open until Tuesday.
ip'