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Value of Kindergarten
Shown in After Yeara
Education la a lifelong process.
The better the beginning, the better
•the life. Elmer Ellsworth Brown,
chancellor emeritus of New York
university, once said: “From tha
kindergarten to manhood is so long
a span that It Is hard for many peo¬
ple to realize the full significance of
kindergarten training for the adult
life of our people. But there are cer¬
tain ways—not altogether obvious
fhough long recognized by the
friends of the kindergarten—In
which this foster-parent of our
■child-citizenship is vitally related to
our cltlzen-llfe In Its entirety." And
Prof. W. H. Lancelot of Iowa State
college writes: “Our great mistake
in the past has been to throw away
In many cases the years in which
the life and character of the child
are most easily shaped. We now
know that habit formation Is at Its
height In the pre-school years and
that this Is one of the most critical
stages of child life.”
The child who goes to a good kin¬
dergarten usually enjoys his later
school days, and whatever his adult
occupation may be he still continues
Interested In the world about him
and In the accomplishments of his
fellow men, just as long as he lives.
Be sure there is a class, conducted
by a properly trained kindergartner,
for the boys and girls of your com¬
munity. If you need help write to
the National Kindergarten associa¬
tion, 8 West Fortieth street, New
York city. There is no charge for
any service rendered.
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HILLTOPS CLEA R
By EMILIE WRING • • •
Copyright by Tbs Penn Publishing Co. WNU Bervloe.
CHAPTER III—Continued
“Gerard!” Calloway shrugged his
acorn. “You make me laugh! In the
first place, suppose Gerard should stick
to the proposition long enough to be¬
gin work—he won’t, but we’ll let It go
for the sake of argument—where
would he get a crew to log for him?
There Isn’t a man in this town who
would tfare work for Gerard If I said
•No !■ •*
“What’s that?”
The question rang like a pistol shot.
Calloway shifted ids eyes from the
girl’s face to stare insultingly at the
man in the doorway.
“I can’t seem to take a step without
running Into you, can I, Gerard? Try
to put me out of this house. Just try!
You won’t catch me off my guard
again. Perhaps you've appointed your¬
self Miss Schuyler’s guardian, though?’’
The sneering tone whitened Rodney
Gerard's face. His eyes frightened
Prudence. She took a quick step
toward him. He shook his head. His
smile was strained as he reassured:
“Okay. I shan’t make a row when
your brother is directly over this room.
What do you want, Calloway?”
“What business is that of yours?"
“It is his business!" Prudence turned
to Gerard. "He came to warn me that
If he did not cut my timber no one
else should.”
“Boy! So racketeering has struck
this sroxll village!”
Calloway's eyes retreated into their
caverns. “Call it racketeering, it’s all
right with me. The fact remains that
you’ll be unable to hire tabor if I say
tlie word. Til give you and Miss
Schuyler one more chance. Think it
over. Contract with me to handle your
timber and I'll treat you fair. If you
don’t—” He turned away with a sug
gestive laugh.
“You’ve had our answer. I'll cut
that timber. Try to stop me. Just
try!”
■ “Oh, I'll try.”
Calloway set his hat at a rakish
angle.
“Think it over! Think it over!” he
advised, before he hanged the door
behind him,
I’rue’s eyes were bright with Indig
nation. “I felt of as little importance
In that contest as a cheer leader with¬
out a megaphone, and I am supposed
to be your partner. Can he do It?
Can he prevent you?”
“Can he! Just watch me, girl,
watch me. ‘Down with the racketeer!’
will be my battle cry. I have made up
my mind to get out that timber, and
when I decide to do a tiling I do it.
It will take something bigger than Len
Calloway to stop me.”
There was a disturbing light in his
eyes and a vibrant note in his voice as
he added:
"That isn't all I’ve made up my
mind to do either, but it is enough to
announce for a starter.”
CHAPTER IV
Prudence Schuyler, in dark blue
linen slacks and short-sleeved green
shirt, knelt beside the border of the
garden back of the red brick house.
A shadow fell across the earth. She
called over her shoulder:
“Fill that pail with sand, will you,
“Gerard!” Calloway Shrugged His
Scorn. “You Make Me Laugh!”
Mr. Si? The directions which came
with the lilies stressed the Impor¬
tance of a handful under each bulb.”
She measured a hole with a short
ruler In her white cotton-gloved hand.
“Six Inches. Correct.” She sat
back on her heels as a pail was set
down beside her.
“Thanks lots. These lily bulbs will
be but a voice crying In a wilderness
of bare ground, but it’s a start. Thank
heaven for my imagination. Giant
larkspurs, columbine, lilies in sucees
»iou, hollyhocks, phlox, with mists and
ill/fts of white gypsophila. Nice of
me to treat you to a preview, isn’t It?
I’ll make It a dream when my ship
comes in «nd I can buy dozens of
plants.”
CLEVELAND COURIER
“No need of waiting for a ship to
realize that dream."
Prudence looked up In startled sur¬
prise. “Just where did you drop
from? I thought you were Mr. Si.”
Rodney Gerard turned a bushel bas¬
ket bottom side up for a seat. “You
don’t have to tell me that. ‘Whatta
mean is,’ you never favor me with
such cordiality. But we won't go into
that now."
Prudence dug at the earth with a
trowel. She met his clear amused
blue eyes with troubled brown ones.
He was so darn likable. Almost he
made her believe that a rich playboy
might be honorable, might be true to
that ‘forsaking all others’ clause In
the marriage service. She demanded
hurriedly:
“Why did you come? Is Calloway
making more trouble for you? You
really shouldn't have rushed him out
of Mrs. Puffer’s as you did the other
day. He had as much right there as
you and 1.”
"He was bullying you.”
“What a fire-eater you are! You
can’t fight my battles.”
“Can’t I? I’ll make a stab at fight
ing your timber battles. What are you
dotng? I know where you can get
all the plants you want for this bor¬
der. I know a place where they are
throwing them away this minute.”
“Throwing—this minute!” Prudence
was on her feet. "Come on, lead me
to it.”
Gerard caught her hand. Started
on a run. Out of the garden. Around
the house.
“Is it far—I’ll tell—”
“Don’t stop for anything or you may
lose them. Action, girl, action!” He
pulled open the door of his roadster
standing at the entrance to the brick
walk. “Hop in!"
“But I must tell Macky or Dave
where I’m going. Where am I go¬
ing?”
“We’re bound for High Ledges. The
THE STORY FROM THE BEGINNING
Prudence Schuyler comes from New York to Prosperity Farm, Inherited from
her uncle, to make a new life for herself and her brother, David, whose health
has been broken by tragedy. The second day on her farm Prue falls from the
barn loft into the arms of Rodney Gerard, rich young man, who lives at High
Ledges on the neighboring farm. There Is at once a mutual attraction between
the two, but Prudence decides to maintain a cool attitude toward him. She sus¬
pects men since her sister’s husband r;.n away with her brother's wife. Len Cal¬
loway, a rival of Gerard, tries to buy the timber off Prue’s land, but she dis¬
likes his conceited attitude and contracts with Rod to dispose of the trees.
On the evening Prue is expecting David from New York she Is visited by Mrs.
Waiter Gerard and her thirteen-year-old daughter, Jean. They are hateful,
curious persons and leave Prue rankled.
nurserymen are there with bulbs and
plant for the Glen. They always thin
a lot of perennials—no reason why
you shouldn’t have them.”
“Is that where—”
“Where my mother and father are
buried. You won’t mind going, will
you? It Isn’t In the least depressing."
“Mind! Of course not. Mrs. Si has
told me about it. She says It is
beautiful.”
“Mother planned it. I try to keep It
as she loved to see it.”
They drove the rest of the way in
silence. As they passed the vine-cov¬
ered stone and oak house, Prudence
gave a fleeting thought to Mrs. Walter
Gerard’s reaction were she to see her
on the place with her “butterfly”
brother-in-law. Punctiliously she had
returned her first call within the time
limit ordained by etiquette, and had
been overjoyed to be told that she was
not at home.
Gerard stopped the roadster at the
entrance to a dusky green trail. He
led the way as it loped gently down
hill. At the top of three boulder steps
he stopped.
“Look! The frost hasn’t touched It
yet.”
The sheer beauty of the garden be¬
low caught at Prue’s heart. Such a
garden ! Regale lilies, crimson-spotted
white; pink-tinged lilies; mammoth
zinnias In pastel colorings; spikes of
purple monkshood; plumes of pale
blue larkspur, a second blossoming
snowy drifts of gypsophila; gladioli
pink, purple, mauve, white, amber
wine-red; clumps of Chinese forget
me-nots; sprays of pale yelow salpig
losis; tall dahlias, single, apricot col¬
ored. Water rilled gently over a ledge
to tinkle Into a fern-rimmed pool.
Rodney Gerard parted the ferns and
crimson gladioli which almost ob¬
scured a bronze tablet set In a moss
grown boulder. She read the Inscrip¬
tion. Whispered:
“How lovely! What profound si¬
lence ! It sinks into one's soul. Can’t
you imagine the spirits of your father
and mother walking here, hand in hand,
in the cool evening? The place almost
restores one’s belief in faithfulness
and love and—”
“There is faithfulness and love,
Prue, lots of it. You only hear of the
heartbreaks. You must believe it.
I—”
“Don’t! Please! Don’t spoil it.
Even the purple shadows cast by the
moving clouds pass more softly here.
How far does the forest stretch?”
“On and on to the Canadian line.
We'll go back and I’ll show you the
direction in which The Hundreds lie."
A few feet beyond the top of the
steps he stopped. “Your land lies to
the east about half a mile from here.”
Prue’s ayes followed the narrowing
perspective of a trail, carpeted with
velvet uioss. It was bordered on each
side by trees. Their breath was resin¬
ous, their green was almost black,
their height incalculable, their gran¬
deur gave a sense of eternity. She
gazed at them in awed unbelief.
“Do I own trees like that?”
“Hundred of them.”
“Must those magnificent things come
down?”
"Yes, for the good of the forest, I
am told. The mature trees are taking
the place of productive timber. Be¬
sides, there are a thousand bucks or
more for you going to waste, so long
as they stand."
“Practicality vs. sentiment. I’m not
a practical person when it comes to
beauty. I hear voices. Coming Pxis
way.”
“The nurserymen."
“I’m going before they disturb the
peace and beauty of this place.”
“But the plants? Don’t you want to
select them?"
“Let the men save me anything they
can spare. I shall love having them—
from here.” She looked down into the
hushed garden.
“I don’t know how anyone could be
false or wicked with this heavenly
spot to come to, Rodney Gerard."
He followed her along the trail,
odorous of spruce and pine, dimly lit,
throbby with unspoken thoughts.
“Go on to the roadster, Prue. I’ll
give the men directions about the
plants. I won't be long.”
Prudence glanced at her wrist watch
as she stepped into the shining black
car. Almost noon. David would think
her lost. Some time he must see that
heavenly garden. She would never
forget It. It would help when she
was engulfed In a tide of bitterness
to think of the shades of husband and
wife who perhaps walked there, hand
In hand, in the dusky twilight.
“The Idea, Miss Schuyler! Didn’t
they tell you that I was on the rear
terrace, snipping off a few dead blos-
soms from the boxes, when you stopped
at the house?”
Mrs. Walter Gerard had appeared
as soundlessly as a wraith beside the
car. The woman knew perfectly well
that she hadn't been at the house, it
was her way of making her feel like
a trespasser, Prudence concluded hot¬
ly. She assured politely:
"P was a disappointment not to
find you."
“But, my dear Miss Schuyler,”—
Mrs. Walter winked— “did you real¬
ly—” She broke off as her brother
in-law appeared on the trail. “Rod¬
ney, why have the nurserymen come
today of all days? I can’t have the
Glen disturbed. I am entertaining
some Garden clubs. I told you about
it a week ago.”
“Boy! I forgot! I’ll stop them,
Annie.”
He sprinted up the trail. His sis¬
ter-in-law called after him:
“I am expecting you to show my
guests about, Rodney—” He disap¬
peared in the dusky greenness without
answering.
“Mother! Mother!” Jean dashed
along the drive. "YouYe wanted on
the 'phone. ’Portant.”
“The Idea! I hope It isn’t a regret
at the last moment, it might mean re¬
arranging the luncheon tables.”
Without so much as a word to Pru¬
dence, Annie Gerard fluttered toward
the house. Jean dropped to the bank
and regarded the girl In the roadster
with her puckish eyes.
“I don’t believe you’ve set your cap
for Uncle Rod,” she observed judicial¬
ly. “What's setting your cap, any¬
way?”
Prudence shut her teeth hard to
keep back a sharp answer. The child
was merely repeating something she
had overheard, something her mother
had said probably, she wouldn't put it
past her. Lucky she had said It, it
would remind Prudence Schuyler of
what constantly she was forgetting,
that she was to treat Rodney Gerard
with chill disdain. She said lightly:
“Speaking of caps, I love that floppy
hat of yours, Jean.”
The child pulled off the frail pink
straw and flung it to the grass.
“The milliner who sold it to Mother
said it did a lot for me. She knew
her sales talk all right. What’s the
use having pretty things If you never
see other girls? Just because we’re
the Gerards of High Ledges, Mother
won't let me have the village children
come to play with me. I’d like to be
with someone kind of young.”
Poor, lonely little soul. Prue’s
heart warmed to her. Could she
help? Time she snapped out of self¬
absorption and thought of someone
beside David and herself. But Jean
was so unattractive. All the more rea
son to help her.
“Corne and play with me some¬
times, will you?" Prudence invited as
cordially as she could with the mem¬
ory of the child’s prying propensity
pricking. “I'm not very young, but
there’s heaps to do. Jane Mack will
show you how to make cookies, and
I'll teach you to use my tools—some of
them—you can mnke a silver bracelet
for your mother. Wouldn't you Ilka
that?”
Jean’s usually pale face was radiant.
"That goes over big with me!" She
called to Gerard who charged along the
trail. “Oh, Uncle Rod, Miss Prue has
Invited me to come and play with her.
May I go now?”
Rodney put his arm about the thin
shoulders. “Not this time, K. K. I’ll
take you tomorrow. Re a good sport,”
tw added, as the child's lips quivered.
“You know your mother wants you at
her party.”
“Tomorrow, sure, Jean," Prudence
called, as the roadster started.
“I was just in time to stop the men
from digging up plants,” Gerard re¬
marked. “Forgot Annie’s party.
They’ll truck a load of stuff over to
your garden tomorrow and set It out;
all you need do is to boss the Job.”
Prudence suddenly remembered the
refrigerating process to which she was
committed. “But I can’t let you do
so much for me.”
"Now you’ve gone ley again. Why
shouldn’t I send you a lot of worth¬
less plants? Don't be pre-war. I’ve
heard from Jim Armstrong.”
"Who is he?”
“Didn’t I tell you that I was Im¬
porting a forester to advise us what
trees to take out? He’s a grand guy.
You'll like him, he’s just your type—
but—watch your step, I saw you
first, remember.”
She looked up between long, sweep¬
ing lashes with a gay challenge. Then
something happened. It was as If she
had caught her spirit rushing toward
him, caught It, and dragged it back
into the strong-room of her will.
There was a hint of breathlessness In
her voice.
"Taking the broad view of the mat¬
ter, why should I watch my step?
Have I a free and untrammeled soul,
or haven’t I?”
“I was referring to your heart.”
Gerard’s voice was not quite steady.
“When Jim comes well take a look
see at your property. You ought to
know something about It before we
begin to cut.”
"Is It wild?”
“Yes. There are old lumber roads
grown up now, but we’ll have those—
I think the technical term is, swamped
out—before we start; a sizable stream
—used to be full of trout; and a log
cabin.”
“All mine?”
“All yours.”
"How soon will you begin to cut?”
“As soon as Jim gets logging plans
ready so that we may know what trees
to take out.”
"Will—will Mrs, Walter Gerard stay
until you get through?"
“She won’t be asked to stay. A*
soon as I know when Jim Is coming,
I will tell Annie that she and Jean
are free to return to the bright
lights.”
Prudence visualized Mrs. Walter
Gerard leaving her brother-in-law In
the Maine wilds lumbering for a fe¬
male neighbor in the early twenties!
As the roadster stopped before the
red brick house, Prudence mused
aloud :
"Something tells me that your sis¬
ter-in-law won’t go.”
“Won’t go! Of course she'll go.
What would keep her when I want the
house to myself?”
Prudence made no answer.
Prudence, in a sleeveless white linen
frock, stopped before the scoured pine
table to regard proudly the shining
jars of ruby beets arranged with the
precision of an infantry squad on a
mammoth white tray,
TO BE CONTINUED.
Andorrans Remain Poor
to Save Their Treasure#
Andorra, the Republic of the Pyre¬
nees, has been preserved intact since
the days when Charlemagne crossed j
the almost impassable mountains to
aid in driving back the Saracens.
In 805 A. D„ he gave to a handful j
of mountaineers, supposed to be Vist
gothic refugees, a charter tor the val¬
ley of Andorra in return for tie pro¬
tection and assistance rendered to him
and to his armies. Content with their
mountain territory, they enacted law*
and established a republican form ot
government. They built settlements,
and called their smaii ,'apital An¬
dorra. When the passes of the
Pyrenees resounded on all sides with
the noise of war, the Andorrans tend¬
ed their flocks and cultivated their
fields, and observed a strict neutrality,
which has never been violated.
Although the mountains Inclosing
the small country are rich In valuable
ores, they have never been worked
because the philosophy of the Inhab¬
itants teaches them that they must
remain poor, so that other countrle*
will not raid them for their treasures.
For some reason they remain Ignorant
Only one out of 100 can read. They
are Christians, and have a ten leunxx
men among them,
<>
ttc fesciwyt Jlcjes, KVh
,l5 r> "
r $
-v. » % /.
•>,
More Juice From Lemoni
Lemon juice is a splendid flavor¬
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ages. Of course you want to get all
the Juice from them that you possi¬
bly can. You will find that you can
extract a great deal more juice from
a lemon if you place it In a fairly
hot oven for five minutes before
using.
THE HOUSEWIFE.
Copyright by Public Ledger. In*.
WNU Service.
Should Bo Lott Thero
Ida—They say money talks.
Ada—Oh, let’s go up to the Mint
and hear some gossip.
Dr. Pierce’s Plea ;.nt Pellets are the orig¬
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They regulate liver and bowels.—Adv.
Says the Cynic
Love Is a blissful dream. Mar¬
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Economy begins In not wanting
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CHAPPED
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Those Fish Stories
Fisherman—I tell you it was that
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Friend—I believe you.
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Little Girl's Face
Inflamed by
Psoriasis
Healed by Cuticura
“My little girl’s face was so In¬
flamed that her eyes were swollen
almost shut. The trouble was diag¬
nosed as psoriasis. She scratched
night and day and was not able to
obtain rest. The scratching aggra¬
vated the trouble and each finger
tip was red and swollen with Infec¬
tion. She became so emaciated thr.
she was very pathetic looking.
“After three months’ suffering 1
recalled the Cuticura treatment used
hy my mother. 1 bought a cake of
Cuticura Soap and a box of Cuticura
Ointment and used them according
to directions. The first treatment
brought relief and she is now
healed.” (Signed) Mrs. Marie I. John¬
son, 4720 Ames Ave., Omaha, Neb.,
March 14, 1934.
Soap 25c. Ointment 25c and 50c.
Talcum 25c. Sold Everywhere. One
sample each free. Address: “Cuti¬
cura Laboratories, Dept. R, Malden,
Mass.”—Adv.
AGE PENSION INFORMATION
ENCLOSE] STAMP
LEHMAN, HUMBOLDT, KAN S.
