Newspaper Page Text
A Bachelor’s Dia
ry
Tennis <=
md Golf by i
Tight—An Autumn Fad
The Roses
By MAX.
! — —
A TRAGEDY IN RUSSIAN LIFE
\ UOUST X
of a sup
UOUST 80.~(Felnf in th* form
UppoflltiUoua dialogue hr
twaen Sally Spencer and my*
self Sha it awa^v off in Paris, ab
sorbed in the vanities of this worii’.
and I am a helpless Invalid, confln- .1
to a cottage In the northernmost
woods of this country, with much
time to redact on the probabilities of
my reward* or punishment* in th*
next The Imaginary Sally 1* sitting
in the little low rocker that awa\s
emptily with the wind, back an)
forth, on the porch beside me in that
tantalising !y suggestive way that
empty rocker* have.)
SALLY: *1 can stay only a abort
•ime. Max. I had to wait a few min
utes In the Bon Marche for a fitting
(M thought 1 would makf n mental
visit with you while waiting How
ere you, my dear ? You look like u
mummy with all those blanket* and
rugs around you. but not as sick as I
had expected. Perhapa that pretty
nurse you have written ao much about
is Prolonging your illness with :i
motive "
MAX ‘‘It is possible that the mo
tive 1§ on my side “
It Stops.
SALLY "You don't mean to inv,
Max. that you have become such an
imbecile that you condemn yourself
to cushions and calomel and uirbags
for the pleasure you get In having
some silly girl wipe your face and
hands and look solicitous when you
sigh, and comb your hair and tell you
what a fine-shaped head you have,
end hold your hands every time you
have an Imaginary pain? Max. I am
ashamed of you 1 ”
MAX "You are losing your tact.
The right way to talk to a man when
he 1s sick is to call him h innrtyr nn '
a hero Instead of an Imbecile.”
HALLY: ‘‘I suppose that's the sort
of soothing syrup that nurse hands t .
you? I see it is time I came home
^rom Paris and took you in charge
Mow many, many times are you g >-
irta to make It neceasarv for me to
save vou from other women ”
MAX: “Have me for whom?”
(The rocker, which had swav- :
rapidly when the imaginary H«ll\ was
scolding me stopped short. There is
s silence. Then it begins t" sway
again, but tlie imaginary Sally has
turned her head ao that I can not
her face, and she changes the sub
ject when she begins talking.)
SALLY ”1 suppose you know th it
.tack is with me in Paris 0 That meant
1 have something more to do than to
match ribbons and laces. The widow
Is there, too.”
MAX: "You did not say for who.r
vou want to save me?"
SALLY: "1 am moat cordial wltjj
her. So cordial and so delighted when
I hear Jack is with her that he is
growing suspicious. He asked me this
morning when dressing for breakfast
if 1 was growing tiro- 1 of him and
wanted to get rid of him.”
MAX: "Do you'”'
SALLY. "I hope you will be satis
fied with the winter clothes I bought
tor Manette. They cost more than
fever before, but the child is no longer
h bn by to be 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
nought. I never care It doesn't In
terest me and never has. and you
know' I never look At the hills. The
nurse my* ”
SALLY "And 1 don't care what
| the nurse says 1 think it very tin
I kind in you, Max. to quote that nur*e
to nt« when I have such a shop i
time to stay I have a good notion to j
come buck home and discharge her 1
You are able to travel now. and cat: !
j be taken home where Hlchards and
; Tompkins and I can nurse you, or get |
a man nurse for that matter.’'
MAX: "1 don't want a man nurse,
j There would be none of that delight - I
I ful sen«e of danger with a man nurse j
I and I refuse to have one. Fancy m»*
! getting lonely in the lung hours of th*
! night and calling for my nurse to
come and sit beside m* and smooth
j my forehead and hold my hand, and
having a great big. ugly, whiskered '
I man appear! I won’t have It! 1 am
sick, and sick people always have
what they want. And I want my prei- .
ty nurse, j think you are very self- *
ish, Pally, to begrudge me the only
1 compensation rick ness Affords a man
—a sympathy that demands no chap
eron.”
(The rocker stopped swinging back
and forth The imaginary Hally is
looking away off into the woods, but I
fancy she doesn’t see the royal color
of scarlet and cold th*- trees have put
on. Perhaps there are tears in her
eyes, and the colore she sees seem
rain-draggled She turns, and when
she speaks again her voice is low, and
has a note of helplessness in it that :
distresses in*,)
RALLY "It is all a tangle, my Ilf* i
and Jack s and yours. I have tried I
in hard to he good. M x but with n ■
husband who strays after every new
petticoat, and w hom I can’t love with
out compelling myself to love him.
and with the man 1 do love throwing
himself a wav on a woman who can
never care for Mm as I have cared
for years why. Max, ]--1 don’t know
what to do!"
(It is mv turn to look at the trees
without aeeing th**<r beauty - It seem*
to me now that all T **m w was a little
narrow path that wound In and out
among the gold - flecked shadows of
the woods, and that lost itself some
where in their depths. It would be
fine to take Snllv by the hand and
lead her down that path .and never
know Its ending! I am interrupted
in my musing* bv a sudden move
ment hv flallv. She has risen, and
has come to me. and has thrown her
arm** Around mv neck and is kissing
me In the manner o* which I have
often dreamed. Good men are srood
also in their dreams. But are there
any ~ood men 0
He Wonders.
SALLY "1 won't give yon Up! I
kept the widow from marrying you.
and 1 warn you 1 will keep the pretty
nurse from getting you if I have to go
to the limit 1 want you for mvself.
I have wanted you for years. Ever;
hour of the day and night I have
thought only Of you, though every
one believed 1 was such a devoted
wife. I deceived even -ou! I haven’t
been good in nn thoughts but no
woman who doesn’t love her husband
is good In her thought*. It Is impos
sible, Max! T don’t love my husband,
and 1 do love you, and I know!”
A clock In Mrs. Allen’s dining room
strike*, and even when a woman is
making love to a man she can't keep
a dressmaker waiting. Evidently II
reminded mv dream visitor of the
garment waiting a fitting in the Bon
Marche, for before It had ceased
striking the hour Sally was gone.
Put I wonder if she la that kind of
a Sally In her thought*.
The tennis court and golf links at night.
.Vi longer air t.i. vi.iji ll,. uuatliletic to have the ex
cuse that they cannot play outside games bocause of the
pressure of business. Artificially lit lawn courts and a
golf links have come into being, as these photographs bear
witness. The courts and the “course” yi question are at
the Woodbury Country Club, at Woodbury, N. J., and
were designed and installed by Thomas .J. Liu.. . , 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.
Household Suggestions
M ISS BKIJNDA dropped with a
tired »i*h Into a **«t on her own
porch end her brother Ben
frowned »t her with disapproval
' Look here, young women.” he be-
ean sternly, "how Ion* ere you Koln*
10 keep this thin* up? Firot thlnr you
know I'll have to send for a trained
nurwe for you or et leeet park you off
to e rest cure et safe distance from
the Crelr* "
—Nonsense. Ben. I’m ell right. You
sxeetly exaggerate whet 1 do for poor
Mrw Craig."
‘"Well, 1 don't exaggerate when I
'*« you that you have passed forty-two
hour* with poor Mrs. Craig In the last
week I have kept time on you.”
•‘How ridiculous to do that' l’«1 no
Idea, though, that I’d been at the farm
#0 much. Still, It would he simply
Iwutal not to do what I can for Mrs.
Craig when she is ill, and there's no one
hut the boys to wait on her or do any
thing about the house The boys are
very busy In the fields Just now, too.”
"Why in the name of all that'* sensl-
>4« doesn’t she keep a girl 0 ”
■ *T think she would if she could find
ope. Girls are scarce in this nelghbor-
)\pod
e.“What’s the matter with that little
Molly Johnson you sometimes have to
help Norah? Why couldn't she work for
RVs Craig 0 ”
-“Well,” Miss Belinda laughed, "the
matter with Molly is that her eyes are
much too blue and her cheeks quite ffwo
qjnk. Do you Imagine Mrs Craig is
keen on offering that particular kind of
temptation to her bachelor sons'”’
Not to Rest.
•’‘‘It * an outrage that she should de-
(And upon her neighbors to take Care
her and run her house. I hope you'll
itave sense enough to stay at home this
afternoon and rest."
"I shall stay at home"
"And rest 0 ”
, "Well, part of the time, perhaps, but
now I must make a cake."
""Why not let Norah make the take?
If she can't we can easily go without
1fc"
•-••Oh, this cake Isn't for us To-mor-
rbw Is Jimmie Craig's birthday and poor
\Jr* Craig is terribly disappointed be
cause she isn't able to make angel's food
for him. It seems that that great six-
f&oter. who looks as if he had never
tasted anything less substantial than
pork and beans, quite dotes on angel s
food.'
"“You little woolly lamb! So you
promised to make him one Why don't
you crochet him a necktie, too?"
“In order to refnst*;* myself In your
good opinion let me teil you that 1 have
persuaded Mrs Craig t«* get a woman
xfith a child, who wi I be glad to have
a country home. I know there ire
nlanty of them and I’ve written to i'ui-
nle Drayton to find one through
.sgnliineut work.”
"That’* a good idea. Be sure to order
one with dull eye* and sallow cheeks.
By the way, here’s a letter from Fannie
that came while you were gone "
Mias Belinda’s face brightened a* she
read the letter "Fannie says she
know* 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 Ju*t such
a chance for the widow and what a good
thing it will be to poor Mrs Craig!
1 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 "
Late the next afternoon Miss Belinda
and her brother drove to the station
and returned with a capable but sad-
looklng 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.
"Ifc will be a relief to know thus pi>or
Mrs Craig has some one to look after
her and the housekeeping." «aid Miss
Belinda that night
But when the next day came the
woman und the child came also, with
the tidings that Mrs Craig had sent
them away.
“There must 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 Haid, “Well, how
about it°"
"Hen. juat think of it! That woman
was actually willing to work for the
board of herself and the little girl, but
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 tier losing good help for such
a small matter, she said, very blandly.
‘With such a good neighbor us you,
Mias Belinda 1 don't see that 1 really
need any hired help.' ”
"Well, I'll be jiggered! But how about
our overhasty importation? What'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 la that you
won't talk to me any more about your
poor Mr* Craig
Handsome Is
His Love
A CHARMING SHORT STORY
W hv haven't I been good to you?
mk c the handsome engagement
j ring 1 gave you."
Yes I took It down to a pawnshop
| the other day to see what I could get
j on d. and he asked me what l
wante,; for it marbles or skipping
rope.”
Leather chairs often heromo grfeasy
looking where the arms and head
rest on the leather. To remove these
marks try Ilnaead oil. BqII half
pint of oil and ltd it stand until
nearly cold, then pour in half a pint
of vinegar. Htir 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 be heated over a candle
bv the following means: Stand two
chairs (with rungs) fairly near to
gether. Place a lighted candle on the
floor between the two. Then lay a
pair of fire-tonga across the rungn of
the two chairs and on the tongs place
n 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. Bub 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 gns-rlng after a few rnin-
utfs have elapsed, and to wipe away
the tiny specks of moisture which
will be 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 boards 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 is a
great improvement.
To give potatoes a flavor add half
a teaspoonful of sugar, as well as
salt, when boiling. Tills does not
make them too sweet, but gives a
delicious flavor.
Tactful.
Kind words may be more than
coronets, and simple faith may beat
Norman blood to a fraaxle; 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 bis
mine!. Then Mrs. Daniels spoke quite
calmly.
"The old cat?” *»he said. "Oh. yes.
dear. 1 sent It to the Oats’ Home in
a basket flrot thing this morning!”
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 the Christian
Serbs were fighting their Turkish op
pressors. Vardak was the refuge of
hundreds from Turkish violence.
From this village they renewed their
fight with new' vigor. Nowadays Var
dak is a peaceful village seldom vis
ited by strangers. The inhabitants
know’ little or nothing of the out
side world and many generations 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, descended 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 lives fighting the Turks,
for what Serbian peasant would not
have hurried oack 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 was still a baby,
and now when he had grown Into a
tall 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's. But when he looked at
the old rusty arms on the walls in
the miserable hut he had inherited
from his mother, or when he listened
to old blind Jezdimir’s tales of the
feats of hi* ancestors, the cruelties
of the enemv and the desperate fights
he .saw before his inner eye an image
of father, as a tall, broad-shouldered
warrior, thirsting for adventure and
revenge, and often while he was* herd
ing his 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,
Miaden t and as a reward, lam happy
to accept you aa my daughter Millt-
7.a’s husband.”
Mladen loved Mllitza. though *he
did not know it. How should Mllitza,
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 hi* love
to himself. nnd did not even mention
it to old Jezdlmir.
Then the wonderful thing happened.
One wintry day. when a terrible bliz
zard was 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
Arson's farm and said that he was
Sergeant Janko Vilutin. and that the
King of Belgrade had declared war
against Bulgaria and now called nil
men to the colors. Every man capable
of bearing arms must meet at Zijecar
within 24 hours.
This was the message of the King
and when Mladen heard it his heart
began beating wildly and he began
to think of all the stories Jeadltnir
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 Bulgarians, not the Turks, he
shook his head. This seemed so un
natural. The Bulgarian* living on
the other side of the Timok were good
Christians, praying to the same sainis
as the Serbs.
But, of course, the mighty King in
Belgrade must know what he la doing,
and it is not for an Ignorant peas
ant to trouble his brain trying to
understand his orders. The King hud
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 eyes* 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 Mllitza
shook 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.
Mladen?”
But Mladen did not answer. He
let go her hand, and silently and with
bowed head he joined his comrades.
• • •
Two brother nations ihAt only a
few* years previous had been sighing
under the same yoke were now at
war, a senselesy war of foolish am
bition. Bloody battles were fought
at Silvetza, Zarinrod and Pirot. The
Bulgarians were victorious and the
Serbs 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
I night fell, the fate of the Serb** was
sealed.
Among the thousands who re
mained on the battlefield was Mladen.
A shell had torn away 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
bright as day.
He raised bis 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, Mllitza.”
And she did not grow angry at all.
She smiled and looked at him kindly
W’ith her big blue eves and he felt her
warm breath on his cheek. He could
not control himself any longer He
threw his arms passionately around
her neck. And w’hile his hot. fever
ish hands caught hold of the frozen
gras*. Mladen fell back into the snow
and with a happy smile on his lipe he
gave up his young soul.
Do You Know—
A novel use of compressed air is
made by railway companies In'the
Southern State* 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 net
three children alive or who has not
reared three children to the age of
21 should be taxed $5.50 a year for
each child below the number of three
This would.apply to both bachelor*
and married men. Such h 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 who*© border three coun
tries meet. It is 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. 1896, 1901, 1905 and 1911: and
there is a clock in the Church of St.
Quentin, in Mayence, which ha* only
stopped once during a period of 500
year*.
"Aladdin’s lamp, in good working
order, price 500,000 pound*.’’ i» the
inscription on a card attached to a
curious-looking lamp exposed for sale
in the sthop-window of a Kingston
antique dealer.
A pen-nib 1* a little thing, yet there
Is more steel used In the manufac
ture of nib* than In all the sword and
gun factories in the world. A ton
of steel produces about 1,500,000 pens.
The cost of the navies of the world
last >ear aggregated $725,000,000.
Figures complied by the Depart
ment of Inland Revenue at Ottawa
show that the people of Canada la«i
year smoked 975,825,501 cigarettes,
an Increase of nearly 200,000,000 over
the figures for 1911.
T HE season of the rose-seller* Is now
at Its highest in ths topsy-turvy
ancient City of Moscow, which, in
spite of its stucco German building*
and miniature skyscraper*, still seem*
to recull the East at every corner of
Its tortuous streets.
Even the rose-sellers here are differ
ent from the pale-faced, tired-looking
men and women who ply the came trade
in ths great cities of Western Europe.
Every morning when the dawn is Ju*t
beginning to break, and the sun, like a
great ball of fire, 1* forcing it* way up
into the silver-gray sky, they take th^ir
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 it* friendly parapet the
little rose-wllers take their seats, dan
gling their half-naked leg* 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 tire*—or a motor
car. is heard afar off in the silent still
ness 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 band
keeps pace with the pawing 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 his side is more sympathetic
and compels her companion to open his
purse. Besides she want* 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
its toll from the passing stream of car
riages and cars
i Life 1* hard, and the bent, worn-rout
mother, w’ho, a* a "tender” In the cot
ton mill*, 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 ill feel
ing. Occasionally, however, in the race
for first place, "desire outruns perform
ance," and 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
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 ft* normal appearance, and the
ragged little sellers return to their
“beat” on the bridge. They are sorry,
of course, as far as It lie* in their
power to be 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 ha* been ready for
over an hour and her brat of a boy
has not yet come home.
Most likely he has gone off w’ith the
other lads to play pitch and toss. She
Is still meditating on the punishment
she w’ill 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 at her
lazily, curiously, and exchange guesses
as to the exact nature of the crime
Marla Vasilyevna has committed. At
the ouchastok she is ushered into the
superintendent's office. He has a harsh
voice, but he look* at her not unkindly.
"See, little mother,” he *ays stam
meringly, while he shuffles on the floor
with hi* heavy topboots, “there ha« been,
an accident.”
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 bunch of faded roses, a*
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 swalloweid
up In the muttering of a prayer. As
gently as he can the officer leads her
back 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 ha? just
left.
"Maye I take the roses with me7*‘ she
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 afraid that the officer might
change his 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, but the flowers are as dead
as the child whom she ha* Just left.
Yet, though with a sense of grief
Comes with the falling leaf.
And memory makes the summer 1
doubly pleasant.
In all my autumn dreams
A future summer gleam*.
Passing the fairest glories of the
present.
—George Arnold.
Let the sweet heavens endure,
Nor close and darken above me
Before I am quite, quite sure
That there is one to love me;
Then let come what may
To a life that has been so sad,
I shall have my day.
—From "Maud.’*
When I sail to the Fortunate Islands
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
love. —Selected.
—LILIAN LAUFERTY.
Nothing In It.
“1 regard conversation's a. gift,”
remarked the studious woman.
"It usually is,” replied Miss Cay
enne. "If people had to pay for 4
there would be much les>» of it.”
INDIGESTION?
Stop It quickly; Have your grocer send
you one dox. 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
Mleorated Shivar
Mineral Water and
the purest flavoring materials.
SHIVAR SPRING, Manufacturers
8HELTON, 8. C.
L. ADAMS CO., Distributor*. Atlanta.
EXCURSION TO BIR
MINGHAM.
$2.50 round trip, Septem
ber 22. Special train leaves
Old Depot 8:30 a. m. SEA
BOARD.
A Weak Stomach ?
<K, Have you indigestion or dys
pepsia, a torpid liver or any
other of the many ills com
ing from a weak stomach T
DR. PIERCE’S
Golden M e dical Discovery
for forty years has done a
“lion’s share” in eliminating
these distressing ailments.
Order a Bottle from
Your Druggist today
Agnes Scott College
The Session Will Open Wednesday,
September 17th, 10 o'Gock 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 College urged
to meet the Committee Monday or Tuesday. Dor
mitories will not be open until Tuesday.
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