Newspaper Page Text
+THE GEORGIANS MAGAZINE PAGE=—
“THE ISLAND OF
PR MOREALY"
THE WEIRDEST STORY EVER WRITTEN.
opyright, 1906, by Stone & Kimball)
By H. G. WELLS.
WAS lying in the shade of the in
closure wall, staring out to sea,
when I was startled by something
old touching the skin of my heel,
nd, starting round, found the little
pink sloth-creature blinking into my
Zace. He had long since lost speech
and active movement, and the lank
‘hair of the little brute grew thicker
every day and his stumpy claws more
askew. He made a moaning noise
when he saw he had attracted my at
tension, went a little way toward the
bushes and looked back at me.
At first I did not understand, but
presently it occurred to me that he
wished me to follow him; and this I
did at last—slowly, for the day was
hot. When we reached the trees he
clambered into them, for he could
travel better among their swinging
creepers than on the ground. And
suddenly in a trampled space I came
upon a ghastly group. My St. Ber
nard creature lay on the ground dead.
and near his body crouched the Hye
na-swine, gripping the quivering
flesh with its misshapen claws, gnaw
ing at it, and snarling with delight.
As 1 approached, the monster lifted
its glaring eyes to mine, its lips went
trembling back from its red-stained
teeth, and it growled menacingly. It
was not afraid and not ashamed; the
Jast vestige of the human taint had
vanished. ‘I advanced a step farther,
stopped, and pulled out my revolver.
At last I had him face to face.
The brute made no sign of retreat,
but its ears went back, its hair bris
tled, and its body crouched together.
1 aimed between the eyes and fired.
As 1 did so, the Thing rose straight
at me in a leap, and I was knocked
over like a ninepin. It clutched at
me with {ts crippled hand, and
struck me in the face. Its spring
carried it over me. I fell under the’
hind part of its body, but luckily T
had hit as I meant, and it had died
even as it leaped. I crawled out
from under ite unclean welght and
stood up trembling, staring at its
quivering body. That danger at least
was over; but this, I knew, was only
the first of the series of relapses that
must come.
I burned both of the bodies on a
pyre of brushwood, but after that 1
saw that uniess I left the island my
death was only a question of time.
The Beast People by that time had,
with one or two exceptions, left the
ravine and made themselves lairs ac
cording to their taste among the
thickets of tne island. Few prowled
by day, most of them slept, and the
ieland might have seemed deserted to
a newcomer; but at night the air was
hideous with thelr calls and howlings.
I had half a mind to make a massacre
of them; to build traps, or fight them
with my knife. Had 1 posséssed suf
ficient cartridges, 1 should not have
hesitated to begin the killing. There
Naming the Child
HRISTENINGS are not always
C humdrum affairs. Some make
you laugh. Some make you
cross. Others make you deaf,
That's your punishment for the
amateur way you hold the infant, and
the brutally professional way in
which you deluge it with cold water.
One would think, with the baby a
month or so old, that the name would
have been settled. But when I said,
standing at the font with the infant
wriggling in my arms, “Name this
child,” and there was no response, I
began to understand why the stout
lady had her lips so tightly pursed
up. .
There was a verbal scrimmage.
Then a young lady, blushing and
pretiy, emerged from the group and
came up to me.
“Caryl, please,” she sald.
“Sarah Emily,” sald a man’s volce
disagreeably. Useful, but hardly as
pretty as Caryl
The stout lady pushed her way for
ward.
“Not Emily, if you please!"
I smiled, put on a patient look, and
suspended operations.
“Which is it to be?” I asked, won
dering how long the blue-eyed in
fant would regard me solemnly be
fore it broke out into loud and bitter
lamentations.
“Not Emily!” snapped the dragon,
with finality.
A whispered conversation followed
and bits reached me. ¢
“Oh, John, let it be Emily and put
that first, if you won't have it Caryl!”
This was from the mother ,and her
This was from the mother, and her
choice—Caryl.
“No, thank you-—not now; it's too
SPEGIAL
Values in
N N PIANOS
and PLAYER PIANOS.
KIMBALL BRANCH STORE
Ivy 3633, 94 North Pryor 8t
The Biggest Proof That a Man Doesn’t Know Much Is When He Insists That He Knows Himself -
could now be scarcely a score left of
the dangerous carnivores; the braver
of these were already dead. Afterthe
death of this poor dog of mine, my
last friend, 1. too, adopted to some
extent the practice of slumbering in
the daytime in order to be on my
guard at night. I rebuilt my den in
the walils of the iaclosurs, with such
a narrow opening that anything at
tempting to enter must necessarily
make a considerable noise. The crea
tures had lost the art of fire, too, and
recovered their fear of it. I turned
once more, almost passionately now,
to hammering together stakes and
branches to form a raft for my es
cape.
I found a thousand difficulties. I
am an extremely unhandy man (my
schooling was over before the days
of Slojd), but most of the require
ments of a raft I met at last in some
clumsy, circuitous way or other, and
this time I took care of the strength.
The only insurmountable gbstacle
was that I had no vessel to contain
the water I should need If I floated
forth upon these untraveled seas. I
would have even tried pottery, but
the i{sland contained no clay. I used
to go moping about the island trying
with all my might to solve this one
last difficulty. Sometimes I would
give way to wild outbursts of rage
and hack and splinter some unlucky
tree in my intolerable vexation. But
I could think of nothing.
And then came a day, a wonderful
day, which I spent in ecstasy. I saw
a sail to the southwest, a small sall
like that of a little schooner; and
forthwith I lit a great pile of brush
wood, and stood by It in the heat of
it, and the heat of the midday sun,
watching. All day 1 watched that
sail, eating or drinking nothing, so
that my head reeled; and the Beasts
came and glared at me, and seemed
to wonder, and went away. It was
still distant when night came and
swallowed it up; and all night I toiled
to keep my blaze bright and high,
and the eyes of the Beasts shone out
of the darkness, marveling. In the
dawn the sail was nearer, and I saw it
was the dirty lug-sail of a small boat.
But it sailed strangely. My eyes were
weary with watching, and I peered
and could not believe them. Two men
were In the boat, sitting low
down—one by the bows, the other at
the rudder. The head was not kept
to the wind: it yawed and fell away.
As the day grew brighter I began
waving the last rag of my jacket to
them, but they did not notice me, and
sat still, facing each other. I went to
the lowest point of the low headland,
and gesticulated and shouted, There
was no responsge, and the boat kept
on her aimless course, making slow
ly, very slowly, for the bay. BBud
denly a great white bird flew up out
of the boat, and neither of the men
stirred nor noticed it; it circled round
and then came sweeping overhead
with its strong wings outspread. |
To Be Continued To-morrew,
late!” interposed the disagreeable
lady,
“All right,” snapped the father, ig
noring that. “Emily Sarah, then.
Right away, parson!”
“I've said NO,” repeated the stout
lady, and this acidulated ultimatum
settled it.
“Shall we have Nora? You liked
that once,” said the mother, with
tears very near.
“Nora,” snorted the man—'Nora?
What'll you call her for short?’ Si
lence. Nothing more was heard of
Nora.
Then I stepped in as peacemaker
and took the pretty young woman a
little way down the aisle to glean
some information.
“What's the baby's mother’s name?"
I asked. “Couldn’t the baby be called
after her?”
“Her name {8 Emmeline, and she
doesn’t like that herself,” smiled my
{nformant. “They had thought of
Dorothy once,” she added.
Ah! I saw my way, and returned to
the font.
“The best thing to do,” I said,
“swhen you can not agree, is to let
the parson settls it.” Here I smiled
my best smile. “What about Dag-
mar?"
‘“Dag what?' demanded the man.
“Dagmar!” But no one wanted
Dagmar.
“wWell, Dorothy, then. How would
that do? All Dorothys grow up to
be pretty girls."”
,There was a perceptible lightening,
a whisper or two, and in less than a
minute that child’s name was Dor
othy.
The husband looked rather cross
still, and when all was over, he sald:
“You think yourself mighty clever,
parson, don't you? She put you up
to that—eh?”
1 put on my stiffest manner, chuck
ling inwardly the while, and refused
to discuss tlhie matter.
Then the pretty young woman came
and thanked me.
“I'm =o' glad you managed it so
nicely, sir. It's dreadful to quarrel
about a name, and in church, too!”
“Oh, that's all right,” I answered
her. “By the way., excuse me, but
what's your name?”
“Dorothy,” she answered, with a
smile.
Oh, woman, lovely woman! Weu.-—‘
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OILE is just popular for sum mer frocks, for it is cool looking
\/ and falls in the most charming of lines. For the model we
show you on the ieft, white volle embroidered in amaranthe
flowers {s used.
The bodice crosses in a group of gatherings at the shoulder and
is V-shaped front and back under a plaiting of white linen. The above
is of plain material, finished by a hemstitched band and a row of
amaranthe buttons.
A high girdle of amaranthe satin encircles the hips and is bowed
at the back.
There is a long tunic of the embroidered material and an under
skirt of the plain with a finishing band of the embroidered hemstitched
on as a finish.
The summer woman has invaded the masculine wardrobe—she
has adopted pantalet-like skirts, and even in extreme cases—pantalets,
When Miranda Forgot © © A SHORT STORY cOMPLETE
“I MUSTN'T postpone dusting
them another minute,” said
Miranda, as she opened her
bookcase door in order to find room
for another volume and noticed how
the tops of the old ones were covered
by a layer of dust.
With Miranda the dusting of books
was a prolonged and serious ordeal,
usually attended with much senti
mental reminiscence. She couldn’t
merely wipe the dear backs ang faces
of her favorite volumes without re
newing acquaintance with them.
Generally befores she had reached the
second shelf she was seated on the
floor, a pile of books about her, the
soiled duster lying by her side, and
some once-loved novel open at her
favorite scene. It was where Lord
Ormont had confessed his inability to
exist without his Evelina, or where
the spirited Miss Bennett had dis
missed the haughty Mr. Darcy, or
where—but there was no stopping
and no dusting when once Miranda
had fairly started on this dual feat
of dusting her books and refreshing
her memory. .
A Vacancy.
This morning she banged the book
backs and flirted her duster without
& pause until she reached the George
Eliot shelf, and noticed a telltale va
cancy in that beloved set.
“It's ‘Daniel Deronda,’ that has
gone,” wailed Miranda as she care
fully dusted the top of each volume
after giving it a bang that was
enough to bring all the characters to
life again. “And I know who has it
I loaned it over a vear ago to Lina
Heft, and though I have seen her a
dozen times since then she has never
mentioned the book. And now she
has moved to the suburbe and I sup
pose she has taken my book with her
and will never think wf it again or.
remember that she has broken my
set. 1
“It 18 like breaking up a family to
lose one out of a set,” she continued.
“and I think that there ought to be
a epecial punishment devised for
people who borrow books and never
return them. Now, when I borrow a
book I always read it at once and
then put it on a table in plain sight
50 that I shall remember to return
e
The fourth shelf was full of painful
memories for Miranda, and she has
tened through the slapping and dust
ing process without stopping to peep
within a single cover. The fact was
that this particular fourth sheif set
was a subscription set, and had
caused Miranda many an anxious
tear. She had paid $2 a month for it,
having in a moment of bookish weak
ness and vanity put her name to some
book agent's pledge, and there had
been times when it was difficult to
get the $2, and when she was obliged
to ask the agent to call again. How
The Life of a Tree
By LILIAN LAUFERTY.
ROM foreign lalnds the boats come in
F A harbor for their goods they win—
The gift of lov» or price of sin
From foreign lands.
The gangplank lowers and we race
Back to our happy nesting place;
The day wears welcome on her face
As all the sights of home wa trace.
But in the steerage pensively
They lift their eyes to Liberty,
Wondering at that great mystery
That called them here across the sea
= From forolgn landa, S
waistcoats, Gladstone cellars and brald-bound coats; she makes her
own as well as “bowler” and sailor hats, and spats. Now she has
adapted the “soutane” of the clergy!
The quaint afternoon frock on the right is made of “violet” taffeta.
The fitted bodice, gathered crosswise in front in basque fashion,
is opened with scalloped edges over a small gathered yoke of net
which forms a shell collar caught with a narrow taffeta tle.
The tunic is stitched at the height of the hips and opens over
the plain, round underskirt. It buttons down the front as at the
bodice with closely set buttons of the material. The plain under
skirt is slit at the foot.
The cape that completes this frock is of the same material, short
at the front and graduating down to great length at the back. It has a
square collar at the back and has straps in front that are shirred into
ruching shape. Orchid satin lines it. —QLIVETTE.
she hated the sight of that man and
how sick she was of those books be
fore she had paid for them!
“I suppose I ought to read them,”
she said to herself as she gave each
of the seventeen volumes a spizg.’ul
slap, “but really I know I should see
that agent's face on eyery page. And,
besides, they are the kind of books
one llkes to own but doesn’t care
to read. They are not the sort that
are what Charles LLamb called ‘take
downable,’ and some day I mean to
take them to some second-hand bhook
store and see what I can get for
them."”
A Strange One,
On the fifth shelf Miranda came
across a volume that did not look
familiar, though the story itself was
one with which she was well ac
quainted.
“Why, 1 had forgotten that I had
a copy of ‘The Cloister and the
Hearth,'' said she, ag she flapped the
covers of this old favorite *[ won
der who gave it to me.
“Oh, it isn’t mine at all,” she walled
as she opened the volume and glanced
at the name*of an old friend inscribed
on the fly leaf, “Dear me! 1 must
have borrowed this book ages ago and
then, after I had read it, put {t among
my own books and just forgot all
about it. And 1 don’t know what has
become of Klsie Braddon or whether
she 1s Elsie Braddon now. 1 really
don’t see how I could have falled to
do with this book of hers as I always
do with borrowed books-—that is,
keep them in sight until they are re
turned-—but I don't suppose this be
longs to any set, and so it will not
be missed like my ‘Danlel Deronda.’
But perhaps I had better keep it out
and see if T can not look un FElsie,
for though I can hardly recall the
circumstances of my borrowing 1
have a faint recollection of Elsie's
telling me that this was her favorite
novel, and that she wanted my opinion
of it.
“Well, I suppose she has her opin
ion of me by this time."
Couldn't.
A well-known suffragette was re
cently talking to a reporter about the
comparative deceitfulness of men and
women,
“Women,” sald the reporter, ‘‘are
the more deecitful.”
“No,” sald the suffragette, “the men
are the worse. Look at the way they
decelve their wives.”
“Do you claim,” the reporte asked,
“that men should never deceive their
wives?”
The would-be voter smiled. ‘“Oh,
no,” ghe said. “How could the aver
age man ever get a wife if he didn't
deceive her?”
[GHICHESTER S PILLS
THE DIAMOND BRAND.
lfal.l'ul :.k:o-v_fl:u:tl:l for
;':‘l’lu ?:‘l:: a:’;.fiul.l nn:l.uc
D) 3% WY Take e sther "or ehoer
(L 7 78l e
| ears known as Best, fafest, Always Rellab
\ - SOLD BY DRUGGISTS EVESSMHERS.
From Lucille’s Diary
UNT ANNA wrote ma last week
A that Nan was to take part In
a play that her little club In
the village high school was getting
up for the benefit of the school libra
ryv, and she wished me to give her
some suggestions for costumes and
stage settings.
“T beMeve I'll go out to the farm
myself,” I told mother, “and help Nan
with the entertainment. [l've had so
much experience with affairs of that
kind that I'm sure I could manage It
beautifully.”
“Perhaps Nan and her friends
aren't looking for a manager,' re
marked mother,
“It seems to me that you love to
throw cold water,” I said, “on any
little effort of mine to be helpful” I
could not keep the hurt tone out ef
my volce, and mother looked very
gorry at once, It was quickly de
clded that I should go.
At Uncle John's.
I arrived at Uncle John's the next
night just in time for a rehearsal,
which took place in the front parior.
The girls’ acting was so ridiculously
stiff and stilted that it was almost
{mpossible for me to keep my face
straight. However, I managed to pre
serve my gravity, and I gave them a
number of little ecriticisms, which
they accepted eagerly.
They consulted me ahout their cos
tumes, and I promised to show them
how to dress their halr and how to
make up for the footlights. Alto-
gether, we had a merry evening, and
after Uncle John had taken the giris
home in his car Aunt Anna said that
perhaps it was a good thing I had
happened to come just then.
There was another rehearsal the
next evening at the house, and Amy
Wright, who was taking the leading
part, performed it with little under
standing.
“Tet me read thosa lines” I sald,
and I repeated one of her Dbest
speeches with a dash and spirit that
made all the girls exclaim adnfiring
ly—that Is, all of them except Amy,
wha looked rather cast down.
“l just know I couldn't ever say it
that way. I don’t belleve I'd better
play it.” SBhe looked quite discour
aged.
“Perhaps the part doesn't quite
suit you, dear,” 1 suggested, comfort
ingly. ‘“How would you like me to
| Hints for the
Household
Tt is a good plan in darning stock
ings to hold the darning wool for a
minute or two over the spout of a
kettle of bolling water. This shrinks
the wool, and when the stockings are
washed there !s no fear of shrinking.
If you are annoved by flies in your
bedroom, soak a sponge lin oil of lav
ender and tie it to the top of the bed.
Flies hate the smell of lavender and
will not approach it.
Colored handkerchiefs should be
soaked in cold salt water for a short
time before they are washed. This
wlill prevent the colors from running
or fading.
To =top hiccough give the patlent a
teaspoonful of granulated sugar and
vinegar. If this does not afford in
stant rellef, repeat the dose,
One ounce of Epsom salts added to
a gallon of water makes an excellent
rinsing mixture for colored blouses
and washing dresses.
When bolling eggs, wet the shells
thoroughly in cold water before drop
ping in the hoiling water, and thay
will not crack.
A tiny pinch of carbonate of soda
or salt added to milk as soon as it
arrives will help to preserve it from
turning sour.
Before using tinware of any kind
rub it well over with fresh lard. 1f
tregted this way, it will never rust.
A teaspoonful of lemon fuice in a
small cup of black coffee is a safe
remedy for billous headache.
Vinegar heated to the hoiling point
will soften dry and hard paint
brushes. *
Looked Like It.
oOld Peppercop didn’t like walters.
He couldn't have told you why, or
what he disliked about them; all he
knew was that he hated them, Some
people are like that about policemen
-—but there's generally a reason for it.
One day old P. entered a restaurant
where he was not known, and a
waiter approached him before he had
had time to study the menu with the
seriousness it deserved,
The waiter, smiling in that annoy
ing way that waiters do, made a bad
start by causing the old gentleman
to jump by flicking a crumb that
wasn't there off the table,
He made a bad start worse by ad
dressing Mr. Peppercop:
“Good morning, sir! 1 have, sir,
deviled kidneys, pigs’ feet and calves’
Erains!”
Old P. looked up.
“Really,” said he. “And you look
Jike it! I'll have some cold beef and
botled potatoes.”
SUMMER RESORTS. SUMMER RESORTS.
AAAA A A A AP AL AP AP AP PPN NN AN SN
PABLO BEACH, FLORIDA
On the Atlantic Ocean, seventeen miles from Jacksonville; facing the finest,
smoothest and broadest batning beach :n the world. The summer climate I 8
cool and comfortable, to the surprise of our patrons from other States, who
have an idea that it is hot because in the South Water temperatures are
mila, ranging around 80 to 85, so that the most delicate person can derive much
benefit from surf bathing
W. H. ADAMS, Owner and Manager.
_ Rates; sa6o to $3.00 a day, §l2 to $lB.OO a week, Wesk:end rate, St
| write in a part for you that would be
I more in vour style? I think 1t would
{he an excellent pian.”
| “But who would play the lead,
{then?” asked Nan. “There's none of
| us who can do {t the way you do, Lu
| clle.”
| “Well,” T laughed, "why not let me
;dn {t? I'll be glad to do that much
| for the library fund, if Amy doesn’t
imindfi'
“l don't mind it at all” repited
Amy, quietly, “and as for writing In
another part for me, Mlss Luclle,
please don't t}othor,"
I When Aunt Anna learned that I
| was to play the lead in Amyv's place,
| she was much distressed.
“Why, Lucile, Amy Wright {s the
'presldent of the club, and her mother
will be angry If she doesn't have the
prinecipal part.”
‘“But, Aunt Anna, she gave it up of
her own free will. However, If you
think best, T won’t play {t. I thought
of doing it only to help out the club.”
“Oh, you'll have to play {t, Lucile,”
sald Nan. “Amy says she simply
couldn't be induced to play it now,
and I'm sure none of the other giris
{want {t.”
‘ “Very well,” T answered, good-na
!turedly, and for several evenings we
i went on with our rehearsals, to whith
| Amy Wright did not come.
| “Oh, Luctle, isn't it too Aisappoint
:‘lng?" exclalmed Nan, coming in from
| school one afternoon.
“What i{g disappointing?” I asked.
“Why, vou know how we were in
tending ‘o surprise Professor Good
win with our little play, and’ now
we've just found out that he is going
away to-morrow to do some work for
a degree he's to get at some collega,
and that tiresome old Professor Hart
we used to have is coming back to
fill out the rest of the year. Isn't it
a shame?”
1 must say that I felt just as much
disappointed as any of the girls in
the club, for Mr. Goodwin is a charm.
ing young Harvard man I had met
once or twice at the farm in the win
ter. 1 had expected to enjoy his
amazement hugely when he found me
takl'ng part in a play with hi= junior
class girls. His absence would take
all the fun and excitement out of the
affalr for me, for I knew very well
that In that extremely bucolic com
munity there would be no one else
who would in the least appreciate my
acting. Tha whole thing began (o
seem a dreadful bore, and T was sor
ry I had been drawn into it.
Poor Child.
“1 think,” I sald to Aunt Anna,
“that I'll Tun home on the avening
train, for there are several things I
ought to attend to.”
Nan began to pout about my belng
away from the rehearsal, but I was
too busy preparing hurriedly for the
little journey to pay any attentlon to
her; but the first thing I did the day
after I got home was to writa her
very kindly, telllng her that it would
be simply impossible for me to go on
with the play, as I had duties in town
that would prevent my returning to
the farm. ‘“But” I sald, “perhaps it
will be just as well, for Amy can now
resume her place in the play, which
vour mother thinks she should never
have rellnquished.”
Nan's answer was rude. ‘“You have
spoiled the whole thing,” she wrote.
“Amy is mad and won’'t be In the
play. She never finished learning the
lines, you know, and she blames me,
bhecause you're my cousin, although
I've told her I dldn’'t ask you to help
usa, The whoie club is upset, and I
guess we won't have any play at all
now."”
Poor child, I fear she is not recelv
ing the proper trainine for a girl of
her rasgh, Impulsive temperament,
SCHOOLS AND COLLEGES.
—_—— E-
College
FOR YOUNG WOMEN
This is the oldest chartered
college for young women in
America.
It ¢ as modern {n purpose
and well equipped in point of
comforts as it is old in years.
Situated 13 the delighttul,
healthful hills of Central
Georgila, where outdoor recre
ation can be enjoyed the year
around.
Schools in Literature, Lan
guages, Sclence, Art and Mu
sic under direction of capable
masters,
Home Influences, athletio
and soclel features that de
velop the broad view of life
under safe conditions. Terms
remarkably low.
Catalog and informatlion
upon request.
C. R. JENKINS, President,
Macon, Ga.