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6Y CLARK ASNEW.
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SYNOPSIS
CHAPTER X.—IntroducInK “So XXI*"
toother, (Dirk VtJong) Hfilina In Pejong. his Infancy. daughter And his of
of Simeon fortune, L'eake, gambler arid gentleman
ffer life, to young woman
hood In Chicago In 1S88, has been un
honventlonal, somewhat seamy, but
»*nerally Julie enjoyable. At school her of
Aujfuet qhura Is Hem pel, Hem butcher pel, daughter Simeon is
killed In a quarrel that Is not his own,
and Selina, nineteen year* old and
practically teacher. destitute, become* a school
CHAPTER It ......Selina secures a post
tlon as teacher at (be High Prairie
auhool, living In the outskirts of Chicago,
at the home of a truck farmer,
Itlati.s Pool. In Roelf, twelve year*
old. son of Klaus, Selina perceive* a
kindred spirit, a lover of beauty, like
herself.
Chapter III
Every morning throughout Novem¬
ber It was the same. At six o’clock:
“Miss Peake! Oh, Miss Peake!”
“Pm up!” Selina would call In what
she meant to be a gay voice, through
chattering teeth.
"You better come down and dress
where Is warm here by the stove.”
Peering down the perforations In
the floor-hole through which the par¬
lor chimney swelled so proudly Into
the drum, Selina could vaguely descry
Mrs. Pool stationed just below, her
gage upturned.
That first morning, on hearing this
Invitation, Selina had been rocked be¬
tween horror and mirth. “I'm not
cold, really. I’m almost dressed. I’ll
be down directly."
Maurtje Pool must have sensed
some of the shock in the girl’s voice;
or, perhaps, even some of the laugh¬
ter. “Pool and Jakob are long out
already cutting. Here buck of the
stove you can dress warm.”
Shivering and tempted though she
was, Selina had set her will agnlnst
it. “I won’t go down,” she said to
herself, shaking with the cold. “1
won’t come down to dressing behind
the kitchen stove like a-—like a peas¬
ant In one of those dreadful Russian
novels. . . . That sounds stuck up
and horrid. . . . The Pools are
good and kind and decent.. . . But
I won’t come down to huddling behind
the stove with a bundle of underwear
in my arms, ph, dear, this corset’s
like a casing of Ice.
(v "But I won’t dress behind the kitch¬
en stove!” declared Selina, glaring
meanwhile at that hollow pretense,
the drum. She even stuck her tongue
out at It (only nineteen, remember!).
When she thought back, years later,
on that period of her High Prairie
experience, stoves seemed to figure
with absurd prominence In her mem¬
ory. That might well he. A stove
chnnged the whole course of her life.
F row the first, the schoolhouse
stove was her bete nolr. Out of the
welter of that first year it stood, huge
and menacing, a black tyrant. The
High Prairie schoolhouse In which Se¬
lina taught was a little more than a
mile up the road beyond the Pool
farm. She came to know that road
in all its moods—ice-locked, drifted
with snow, wallowing In mud. School
began at half-past eight. After her
first week Selina had the mathematics
of her early morning reduced to the
least common denominator. Up at
six. A plunge Into the frigid gar¬
ments; breakfast of bread, cheese,
sometimes bacon, always rye coffee
without cream or sugar. On with the
cloak, muffler, hood, mittens, galoshes.
The lunch box in bad weather. Up
the road to the schoolhouse, battling
the prairie wind that whipped the
tears Into the eyes, plowing the drifts,
slipping on the hard ruts and Icy
ridges In dry weather. Excellent at
nineteen. As she Hew down the road
In sun or rain, tn wind or snow, her
mind's eye was fixed on the stove.
The schoolhouse reached, her numbed
fingers wrestled with the rusty lock.
The door opened, there smote her the
schoolroom smell—a mingling of dead
nsbes, kerosene, unwashed bodies,
dust, mice, chtlk, stove-wood, lnncb
crumbs, mold, slate that has been
washed with saliva. Into this Selina
rushed, untying her muffler as she en¬
tered. In the little vestibule there
was a box piled with chunks of stove
weed and another heaped with dried
cern-cebs. Alongside this a can of
kerosene. The cobs served as kin¬
dling. A dozen or more of these, you
soaked with kerosene and stuffed
into the maw of the rusty Iron pot¬
bellied stove. A match. Up flared
the corn-cotoe. Now was the moment
for a small stick of wood; another to
keep It company. Shut the door.
Draughts. Dampers. Smoke. Sus¬
pense. A blare, then a crackle. The
wsed has caught. In with a chunk
now. A wait. Another chunk. Slam
the door. The schoolhouse fire is
started for the day. As the room
thawed gradually Selina removed lay¬
ers of outer garments. By the time
the children arrived the room wve
livable.
I show yon. I break every stick . , ,
dumb as a Groningen . . .*
Roelf did ndt sulk. He seemed not
to mind, particularly, but be came back
to the carved box as soon as chance
presented itself. He was reading her
books with such hunger as to cause
her to wonder If her stock would last
hfro the winter. Sometimes, after sup¬
per, when he was hammering and saw¬
ing away In the little shed Selina
would snatch Maartje’s old shawl off
the hook, and swathed In this against
draughty chinks, she would read aloud
to him while he carved, or talk to him
above the noise of his tools. Selina
was a gay and volatile person. She
loved to make this boy laugh. His
dark face would flash Into almost
) I dazzling animation. Sometimes Muart
je, hearing their young laughter, would
| come to the shed door and stand there
j a moment, hugging her arms in her
| rolled apron and smiling at them, un
| comprehending but companionable.
J ‘You make fun, h’m?”
“Come in, Mrs. Pool. Sit down on
S my box and make fun, too. Here, you
j may “Og have half the I shawl.”
Heden! got no time to sit
i down.” She was off.
Roelf slid his plane slowly, more
| j oak slowly, over the surface of satin-smooth
board. He stopped, twined a curl
| of shaving about and earning, his finger. I "When I
| am a. man, am going to
j 1 buy in my mother In Chicago a silk dress and she like should I saw
a store
j put it on every day, not only for Sun
I day; and sit in a chair and make little
fine stitches like Widow Paarlenberg.”
“What else are you going to do when
you grow up?” She waited, certain
that he would say something delight¬
ful.
“Drive the team to town alone to
market."
“Oh, Roelf!”
“Sure. Already I have gone five times
—twice with Jakob and three times
with Pop. Pretty soon, when I am
seventeen or eighteen, I can go alone.
At five in the afternoon you start and
at nine you are In the Haymarket.
There all night you sleep on the wagon.
There are gas lights. The men play
dice and cards. At four in the morn¬
ing you are ready when they come, the
commission men and the peddlers and
the grocery men. Oh, it’s fine, I tell
you i”
Roelf!’’ She was bitterly disap¬
pointed.
“Here. Look." He rummaged around
In u dusty box In a corner and, sud¬
denly shy again, laid before her a torn
sheet of coarse brown paper on which
he had sketched crudely, effectively,
a melee of great-haunched horses; wa¬
gons piled high with .garden truck;
men In overalls and corduroys; flaring
gas torches. He had drawn It with a
stub of pencil exactly as it looked to
him. The result was as startling as
that achieved by the present-day disci¬
ple of the impressionistic school.
Selina was enchanted.
Once, early In December, Selina
went into town. The trip was born of
sudden revolt against her surround¬
ings and a great wave of nostalgia for
(Ije dirt and clamor and crowds of
Chicago. Early Saturday morning
Klaas drove her to the railway station
five miles distant. She was to stay
until Sunday. A letter had been writ¬
ten Julie Hempel ten days before, but
there had been no answer. Once In
town she went straight to the Hempel
house. Mrs. Hempel, thin-lipped, met
her in the hall and said that Julie was
out of town. She was visiting her
friend Miss Arnold, in Kansas City.
Selina was not asked to stay to dinner.
She was not asked to sit down. When
she left the house her great fine eyes
seemed larger and more deep-set than
ever, and her jaw-line was set hard
against the Invasion of tears. Sudden¬
ly she hated this Chicago that wanted
none of her; that brushed past her,
bumping her elbow and offering no
apology; that clanged, and shrieked,
and whistled, and roared in her ears
now grown accustomed to the prairie
silence.
She spent the time between one and
three buying portable presents for the
entire Pool household—Including ba¬
nanas for Geertje and Jozlna, for
whom that farinaceous fruit had the
fascination always held for the farm
child. She caught a train at four thir
ly-flve and actually trudged the five
miles from the station to the farm,
arriving half frozen, weary, with ach¬
ing arms and nipped toes, to a great
welcome of the squeals, grunts, berks,
and gutturals that formed the expres¬
sion of the Pool household. She was
astonished to find how happy she was
to return to the kitchen stove, to the
smell of frying pork, to her own room
with the walnut bed and the book
shelf. Even the grim drum had taken
on the dear and comforting aspect of
the accustomed.
Chapter IV
High Prairie swains failed to find
Selina alluring. She was too small,
too pale and fragile for their robust
taste. Naturally, her coming had
been an event in this isolated commu¬
nity. With no visible means of com¬
munication news of her leaped from
farm to farm as flame leaps’the gaps
In a forest fire. She would have been
aghast to learn that High Prairie,
inexplicably enough, knew all about
her from the color of the ribbon that
threaded her neat little white corset
covers to the number of books on her
shelf. She thought cabbage fields
beautiful; she read books to that
dumb-acting Roelf Pool; she was
making over a dress for Maartje after
the pattern of the stylish brown
lady’s-cloth she wore (foolishly) to
school.
On*her fifth Sunday In the district
she accompanied the Pools to the
morning service at the Dutch Re¬
formed church. Maartje seldom had
the time for .such frivoli ty. But on
Settna had seen herself, dignified,
yet gentle, Instructing a roomful of
Dutch cherubs in the simpler ele¬
ments of learning. But It Is difficult
! to be dignified and gracious when you
j are suffering from chilblains. Selina
fell victim to this sordid discomfort,
i as did every child in the room. She
sat at the battered pine desk or
; moved about, a little Ice-wool shawl
| i around her shoulders when the wind
I was wrong and the stove balky. Her
wtitte little face seemed whiter In
j contrast with the black folds of this
| | somber garment. Her sllra hands
■ were rough and chapped. The oldest
: child in the room was thirteen, the
youngest four and a half,
Early In the winter Selina had had
the unfortunate idea of opening the
Ice-locked windows at intervals and
giving the children five minutes of
exercise while the fresh cold air
cleared brains and room at once.
Arms waved wildly, heads wobbled,
short legs worked vigorously. At the
end of the week twenty High Prairie
parents sent protests by note or word
of mouth. Jan and Cornelius, Katrina
and Aggie went to school to learn
reading and writing and numbers, not
to stand with open windows In the
winter. ,
On the Pool farm the winter work
had set in. Klaas drove Into Chicago
with winter vegetables only once a
week now. He and Jakob and Roe If
were storing potatoes and cabbages
underground; repairing fences; pre¬
paring frames for the early spring
planting; sorting seedlings. It had
been Roelf who had taugm Selina to
build the schoolhouse fire. He had
gone with her on that first morning,
had started the fire, filled the water
pall, initiated her In the rites of corn¬
cobs, kerosene, and dampers. A shy,
dark, silent boy. She set out delib¬
erately to woo him to friendship.
“Roelf, I have a book called ‘Ivan
hoe.’ Would you like to read It?”
“Well, I don’t get much time.”
"You wouldn’t have to hurry. Right
there in the house. And there’s another
called The Three Musketeers.’"
He was trying not to appear pleased;
to appear stolid and Dutch, like the
people from whom he had sprung.
Some Dutch sailor ancestor, Selina
thought, or fisherman, must have
touched at an Italian port or Spanish
and brought back a wife whose eyes
and skin and feeling for beauty had
skipped layer on layer of placid Neth¬
erlands to crop out now in this wistful
sensitive boy.
Selina had spoken to Pool about a
shelf for her books and her photo¬
graphs. He had put up a rough bit of
board, very crude and ugly, but It had
served. She had come home one snowy
afternoon to find this shelf gone and in
Its place a smooth and polished one.
with brackets intricately carved, Roelf
had cut, planed, polished, and carved
it in many hours of work in the cold
little shed off the kitchen. He had
there a workshop of sorts, fitted with
such tools and Implements as he could
devise. He did man's work on the
farm, yet often at night Selina could
faintly hear the rasp of his handsaw
after she had gone to bed. This sort
of thing was looked upon by Klaas
Pool as foolishness. Roelf s real work
In the shed was the making and mend¬
ing of coldframes and hotbeds for the
early spring plants. Whenever possible
Roelf neglected this dull work for some
fancy of his own. To this Klaas Pool
objected as being “dumb.”
“Roelf, stop that foolishness, get
your me once some wood. Carving on
that box again instead of finishing
them coldframes. Some day, by golly,
She Would Read Aloud to Him White
He Carved.
Orta morning Klaas hitchecTup the big
farm wagon with the doable seat and
took the family complete—Maartje,
Selina, Roelf, and the pig-tails. Reelf
had rebelled against going, bad been
cuffed for It, and had sat very still
all through the service, gazing at the
red and yellow glass church window.
Selina’s appearance had made quite
a stir, of which she was entirely un¬
aware. As the congregation entered
by twos and threes she thought they
resembled startlingly a woodcut in an
old Illustrated book she once had
seen. The men’s Sunday trousers and
coats had a square stiff angularity,
as though chopped out of a block.
The women, in shawls and bonnets of
rusty black, were incredibly cut in
the same pattern. The unmarried
girls, though, were plump, red¬
cheeked, and not uncomely, with high
round cheek-bones on which sat a
spot of brick-red which imparted no
glow to the face. Their foreheads
were prominent and meaningless.
In the midst of this drab assem¬
blage there entered late and rustllng
ly a tall, slow-moving woman In a city
bought cloak and a bonnet quite un¬
like the vintage millinery of High
Prairie. An ample woman, with a
fine fair skin and a ripe red mouth;
a high firm bosom and great thighs
that moved rhythmically, slowly. She
had thick, insolent eyelids. Her
hands, as she turned the leaves of her
hytnn book, were smooth and white.
As she entered there was a little
rustle throughout the congregation; a
craning of necks.
"Who’s that?” whispered Selina to
Maartje.
“Widow Paarlenberg. She is rich
like anything."
“Yes?” ‘Selina was fascinated.
“Look once how she makes eyes at
him.”
“At him? Who? Who?”
“Pervus De.Tong. By Gerrlt Pon he
is sitting with the blue shirt and sad
looking so.”
Selina craned, peered. “The—oh— ,
he’s very good looking, isn’t he?”
“Sure. Widow Paarlenberg Is stuck
on him. See how she—Sh-sh-sh 1—
Reverend Dekker looks at us. I tel!
you after.”
Selina decided she’d come to church
oftener. The service went on, dull,
heavy. It was in English and Dutch.
She heard scarcely a word of It. The
Widow Paarlenberg and this Pervus
DeJong occupied her thoughts. She
decided, without malice, that the
widow resembled one of the sleekest
of the pink porkers rooting In Klaas
Pool’s barnyard, waiting to be cut
into Christmas meat.
The sendee ended, there was much
talk of the weather, seedlings, stock,
the approaching holiday season.
Maartje, her Sunday dinner heavy on
her mind, was elbowing her way up
the aisle. Here and there she Intro¬
duced Selina briefly to a woman
friend. “Mrs. Vender Sijde, meet
school teacher.”
"Aggie’s mother?" Selina would be¬
gin, primly, only to be swept along
by Maartje on her way to the door.
“Mrs. Von Mijnen, meet school teach¬
er. Is Mrs. Von Mijnen.” They re¬
garded her with a grim gaze. Se¬
lina would smile and nod rather nerv¬
ously, feeling young, frivolous, and
somehow guilty.
When, with Maartje, she reached
the church porch Pervus DeJong was
unhitching the dejected horse that
was harnessed to his battered and lop¬
sided cart. The animal stood with
four feet bunched together in a droop¬
ing and pathetic attitude and seemed
inevitably meant for mating with this
decrepit vehicle. DeJong untied the
reins quickly, and was about to step
into the sagging conveyance when the
Widow Paarlenberg sailed down the
church steps with admirable speed for
one so amply proportioned. She made
straight for him, skirts billowing,
flounces flying, plumes waving.
Maartje clutched Selina’s arm. “Look
how she makes! She asks him to eat
Sunday dinner I bet you 1 See once
how he makes with Ms head no.’’
Selina—and the whole congregation
unashamedly watching—could indeed
see how he made with his head no. His
whole body seemed set in negation—
the fine head, the broad patient shoul¬
ders, the muscular powerful legs lu
their ill-fitting Sunday blacks. He
shook his head, gathered up the reins,
and drove away, leaving the Widow
Paarlenberg to carry />ff with such
bravado as she could muster this pub¬
lic flouting in full sight of the Dutch
Reformed congregation of High Prai¬
rie. It must be said that she actually
achieved this feat with a rather mag¬
nificent composure. Her round, pink
face, as she turned away, was placid;
her great cowlike eyes mild. She
stepped agilely into her own neat
phaeton with its sleek horse and was
off down the hard snowless road, her
head high.
“Well!” exclaimed Selina, feeling as
though she had witnessed the first act
of an exciting play. And breathed
deeply. So, too, did the watching con¬
gregation, so that the widow could be
said to have driven off In quite a gust.
Aa‘ they jogged home in the Pool
farm wagon Maartje told her tale with
a good deal of savor.
Pervus DeJong had been left a wid¬
ower two years before. Within a
month of that time Leendert Paarlen¬
berg had died, leaving to bis widow the
richest and most profitable farm In
the whole community. Pervus De¬
Jong, on the contrary, through Inheri¬
tance from his father, old Johannes,
possessed a scant twenty-five acres of
the worst lowland—practically the
only lowland—In aH High Prairie. The
acreage was notoriously barren. Per¬
ms DeJong patiently planted, sowed,
gathered crops, hauled them to mar¬
ket; seemed still never to get on In
this thrifty Dutch community where
getting on was so qgmmon. a trait as
to be no longer thoughTa virtue. Xaek
and nature seemed to work against
him. His seedlings proved unfertile;
his stock was always ailing; his cab¬
bages were worm-infested; snout-bee¬
tle bored his rhubarb. When he
! j planted largely of spinach, hoping for
a wet spring, the season was dry. Did
j he turn the following year to sweet
; potatoes, all auguries pointing to a
dry spring and summer, the summer
proved the wettest in a decade. Had
he been small, puny and insignificant
j his bad luck would have called forth
j contemptuous pity. But there was
: about him the lovableness and splen
j dor of the stricken giant.
It was on this Pervus DeJong, then,
i that the Widow Paarlenberg of the
| rich the gold acres, neck the chain, comfortable the silk farmhouse, the
j gowns,
i soft white hands and the cooking tal
I f-nts, had set her affections. She
[ wooed him openly, notoriously, and
| with a Dutch vehemence that would
j have swept another man off his feet.
| It was known that she sent him a
| weekly baking of cakes, pies and
bread. She tricked, cajoled, or nagged
him into eating her ample meals. She
even asked his advice—that subtlest
form of flattery. She asked him about
sub-soiling, humus, rotation—she
whose rich land yielded, under her
shrewd management, more profitably
to the single acre than to any ten of
Pervus’.
Feeling that the entire community
was urging him toward this profitable
match with the plump, rich, red-lipped
widow, Pervus set his will like a stub¬
born steer and would have none of
her. He was uncomfortable in his un¬
tidy house; he was lonely, he was un¬
happy. But he would have none of
her. Vanity, pride, resentment were
all mixed up In It.
The very first time that Pervus De¬
Jong met Selina he had a chance to
protect her. With such a start, the
end was Inevitable. Then, too, Selina
had on the wine-colored cashmere
and was trying hard to keep the tears
back in full view of the whole of High
Prairie. Urged by Maartje (and rath¬
er fancying the idea) Selina had at¬
tended the great meeting and dance
at Adam Goins’ hail above the genera!
store near the High Prairie station.
Farmer families for miles around
were there. The new church organ
—that time-hallowed pretext for so¬
ciability—was the excuse for this
gathering. There was a small admis¬
sion charge. Adam Owns had given
them the hall. The three musicians
were playing without fee. The wom¬
en were to bring supper packed In
boxes or baskets, these to be raffled
off to the highest bidder whose priv¬
ilege It then was to sup with the fair
whose basket he had bought. Hot
coffee could be bad at so much the
cup. AW the proceeds were to be de¬
voted to the organ. Maartje had
packed her own basket at noon and
had driven off at four with Klaas and
the children. She was to serve on one
of those bustling committees whose
duties ranged from coffee making to
dish washing. Klaas and Roelf were
to be pressed into service. .Takob
Hoogendunk would convey Selina to
the festivities when his chores were
done, Selina’s lunch basket was to
be a separate Rnd distinct affair, of¬
fered at auction with those of the
Katrinas and Linas and Sophias of
High Prairie. Not a little apprehen¬
sive, she was to pack this basket her¬
self. Maartje, departing, had left co¬
pious but disjointed instructions.
Maartje’s own basket was of gigantic
proportions and staggering content.
Her sandwiches were cubic blocks;
lier pickles clubs of cucumber; her
pies vast plateaus.
The basket provided for Selina,
while not quite so large, still was of
appalling size as Selina contemplated
it. She decided, suddenly, that she
would have none of it. In her trunk
she had a cardboard box such as shoes
come In. Certainly this should hold
enough lunch for two, she thought.
She was a little nervous about the
whole thing; rather dreaded the pros¬
pect of eating her supper with a High
Prairie swain unknown to her. Sup¬
pose no one should bid for her box!
She resolved to fill it after her own
pattern, disregarding Maartje’s heavy
provender.
She had the kitchen to herself
Jakob was in the fields or out-bona*e
The house' was deliciously quiet,*
Selina rummaged for the shee box
lined U with a sheet of tissue paper
rolled up her sleeves, got out mixinf
bowl, flour, pans. Cup cakes wert
her ambition. She baked six of then
They came out a beautiful brown but
somewhat leaden. Still, anything was
better than a wedge of soggy pie. she
told herself. She boiled eggs very
hard, halved them, devilled their yolks,
filled the whites neatly with this mix¬
ture and clapped the halves together
again, skewering them with a tooth¬
pick. Then she rolled each egg sep¬
arately in tissue paper twisted at the
ends. Daintiness, she had decided,
should be the keynote of her supper
box. The food neatly packed she
wrapped the box in paper and tied It
with a gay red ribbon yielded by her
trunk. At the last moment she whipped
into the yard, twisted a brush of ever¬
green from the tree at the side of the,
house, and tucked this into the knot
j of ribbon atop the box. She stepped
I back and thought the effect enchanting.
! She was waiting In her red cashmere
j and her cloak and hood when Hoogen¬
dunk called for her. They were late
arrivals.
Selina, balancing her box carefully,
opened the door that led to the wooden
stairway. The hali was on the second
floor. The clamor that struck her
ears had the effect of a physical blow.
She hesitated a moment, and if there
had been any means of returning to the
Pool farm, short of walking five miles
in the snow, she would have taken It.
Up the stairs and into the din. Evi¬
dently the auctioning of supper baskets
was even now In progress. The auc¬
tioneer was Adam Ooms who himself
had once been the High Prairie school
teacher. A fox-faced little man, bald,
falsetto, the village clown with a solid
foundation of shrewdness under his
clowning and a tart layer of malice
over it.
High and shrill came his voice.
"What am I bid! IVhat am I bidt
Thirty cents! Thirty-five! Shame on
you, gentlemen. What am I bid 1
Who’ll make It forty!”
Selina felt a little thrill of excite¬
ment She looked about for a place on
which to lay her wraps, espied a box
that appeared empty, rolled her cloak,
muffler, and hood into a neat bundle
and, about to cast it into the box, saw,
upturned to her from Its depths, the
round pick faces of the sleeping Kuy
per twins, aged six months. Oh, dear l
In desperation Selina placed her bun¬
dle on the floor in a corner, smoothed
down the red cashmere, snatched up
her lunch box and made for the door¬
way with the childish eagerness of one
out of the crowd to be In It. She won¬
dered where Maartje and Klaas Pool
were In this close-packed roomful; and ,
Roelf. In the doorway she found that
broad black-coated backs shut off sight
and Ingress. She had written her
name neatly on her lunch box. Now
she was at a loss to find a way to reach
Adam Ooms. She eyed the great-shoul¬
dered expanse Just ahead of her. In
desperation she decided to dig into It
with a corner of her box. She dug,
viciously. The back winced. Its owner
turned. "Here 1 What—”
(Continued on page 7,
Camilla Council R. & S. M. No. 31
meets 5th Thursday Night at 7:30,.
all visiting Companions invited.
M. A. Warren, Jno. C. Butler,
111 Master. Recorder.
Camilla Lodge No. 128 F. & A. M.
meets 1st Thursday Nights at 7:30,
3rd Thursday Afternoons at 2:30.
Visiting brethren invited.
Jno. C. Butler, J. L. Palmer,
W. M. Seet’y.'
Camilla Chapter No. 133 meets 3rd
Thursday Night at 7:30 Visiting
Companions invited.
P. C. Cullens, Jno. C. Butler,
H. P. Recorder.
Fire Insurance
W r e invite you to place your insur¬
ance with us. We represent several
of the largest and most reliable com¬
panies and have facilities for giving
our customers efficient service.
A phone call will bring our repre¬
sentative
CONSOLIDATED INSURANCE A6ENCY
MAURICE M. A«RMB, Manager
Phone No. 10 Camilla, Ga.