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About Mt. Scott herald. (Lents, Multnomah Co., Or.) 1914-1923 | View Entire Issue (Aug. 19, 1915)
MABIE VAN VOD ILLUSTRATIONS ££ copwcsrer SYNOPSIS. ^—10— L» Comte de Sabron. captain of French cavalry, takes to hie quarter« to raise by hand a mot her leas Irish terrier pup. and names It Pitchoune He dines with the Marquise d‘Exll<nac and meets Miss Ju lia Redmond. American helrras He la or dered to Algiers but la not allowed to take aervanta or dogs Miss Redmond take« care of Pitchoune. who, longing for Ms master, runs away from her. The marquise plans to marry Julia to the Due de Tremont. Pitchoune follows Sabron to Algiers, dog and master meet, and Sabron gets permission to keep his dog with him. The Due de Tremont finds the American heiress capricious Sabron. wounded In an engagement, falls into the dry bed of a river and Is watched over by Pitchoune. After a horrible night and day Pitchoune leaves him. Tremont takes Julia and the marquise to Algiers In his yacht but has doubts about Julia's Red Cross mission. After long search Julia gets trace of Sa bron's whereabouts. Julia for the mo ment turns matchmaker in behalf of Tre mont. Hammet Abou tells the Mar quise where he thinks Sabron may be found. Tremont decides to go with Ham. met Abou to find Sabron Pitchoune finds a village, twelve hours Journey, away, and «►mehow makes Fatou Annl understand Ms master's desperate plight. Sabron Is rescued by the village men but grows weaker without proper care. Tremont goes Into the desert with the caravan In search of Sabron. Julia follows with Madame de la Maine, whom Tremont loves. CHAPTER XXIV—Continued. At night as he lay in his bed in his tent. Tremcnt and Hammet Abou cooled his temples with water from the earthen bottles, where the sweet ooze stood out humid and refreshing on the damp clay. They gave him acid and cooling drinks, and now and then Sabron would smile on Tremont, call ing him "petit frere,” and Tremont heard the words with moisture in his eyes, remembering what he had said to the Marquise d’Esclignac about be ing Sabron's brother. Once or twice the soldier murmured a woman’s name, but Tremont could not catch It, and once he said to the duke: "Sing! Sing!" The Frenchman obeyed docilely, humming in an agreeable barytone the snatches of song be could remember, "La Fille de Madame Angot,” ”11 Tro- vatore; • *• ” running them into more mod ern opera, “La Veuve Joyeuse.” But the lines creased in Sabron's forehead indicated that the singer had not yet found the music which haunted the memory of the sick man. "Sing!” he would repeat. Axing his hollow eyes on his companion, and Tremont complied faithfully. Finally, his own thoughts going back to early days, be hummed tunes that be and a certain little girl had sung at their games in the allees of an old chateau in the valley of the Indre. "Sonnez les matines Ding—din—don,” and other children’s melodies. In those nights, on that desolate way, alone, in a traveling tent, at the side of a man be scarcely knew, Rob ert de Tremont learned serious les sons. He bad been a soldier himself, but his life had been an inconsequent one. He had lived as be liked, behind him always the bitterness of an early deception. But be had been too young to break his heart at seventeen. He had lived through much since the day his father exiled him to Africa. Therese bad become a dream, a memory around which he did not al ways let bis thoughts linger. When he had seen her again after her bus band’s death and found her free, he was already absorbed in the worldly life of an ambitious young man. He had not known how much he loved her until in the Villa des Bougainvilleas he had seen and contrasted her with Julia Redmond. All the charm for him of returned, and be realized money goes, he was poor- poorer. The difficulties of the marriage made him all the more secure in his deter mination that nothing should separate him again from this woman. By Sabron's bed he bummed his little insignificant tunes, and his heart longed for the woman. When once or twice on the return Journey they had been threatened by the engulfing sand storm be had prayed not to die before he could again clasp her in bls arms. Sweet, tantalizing, exquisite with the passion of young love, there came to him the memories of the moonlight nights on the terrace of the old cha teau. He saw her in the pretty girl ish dresses of long ago, the melan choly droop of her quivering mouth, her bare young arms, and smelled the fragrance of her hair as he kissed her. So humming his soothing melo dies to the sick man, with his voice softened by his memories, he soothed Sabron. Sabron closed his eyes, the creases In his forehead disappeared as though brushed away by a tender hand. Per haps the sleep was due to the fact that, unconsciously, Tremont slipped Into humming a tune which Miss Red mond had sung in the Villa des Bou gainvilleas, and of whose English words De Tremont was quite ignorant. "Will he last until Algiers, Hammel Abou?" "What will be will be, monsleurl” Abou replied. "He must,” De Tremont answered lercely. "He shall.” He txcame serious and meditative “You are lu a French hospital la Al giers, air, and doing well.” Tremont came up to him. "I remember you,” Sabron said. "Too I have been near mo a dosea times lately." "You must not talk, mon vleux." "But 1 feel as though I must talk a great deal. Didn't you come for mo into the desert Y' I Tremont, healthy, vigorous, tanned, gay and cheerful, seemed good look I ing to poor 8abron, who gazed up at him with touching gratitude. "I think I remember everything. 1 think I shall never forget It." he said, and lifted his hand feebly. Robert de Tremont took it "Haven't we trav- eled far together. Tremont?" "Yes.” nodded the other, affected, "but you must sleep now. We will talk about it over our cigars and liquors soon." Sabron smiled faintly. His clear mind was regaining Its balance, and thoughts began to sweep over It cru elly fast. He looked at his rescuer, and to him the other's radiance meant simply that ho was engaged to Miss Redmond. Of course that was natural. Sabrcn tried to accept it and to be glad for the happiness of the man who had rescued him. But as he thought this, he wondered why he bad been rescued and shut bis eyes so that Tremont might not see his weakness. He said hesitatingly: "1 am haunted bx a melody, a tune. Could you help me? It won't come.” “It's not the "Marseillaise?" asked the other, sitting down by his side and pulling Pitchoune's ears. “Oh. no!" "There will be singing in the ward shortly. A Red Cross nurse comes to sing to the patients. She may help you to remember." Sabron renounced In despair. Haunt ing. tantalizing In his brain and Illu sive, the notes began and stopped, be gan and stopped. Ho wanted to ask his friend a thousand questions. How hp had come to him, why he bad come to him. how he knew. . . . He gave It all up and dozed, and while he slept the sweet sleep of those who are to recover, he beard the sound of a worn- on those silent days, and hla blue eyes, where the very whites were burned, began to wear the faraway, mysterious look of the traveler across long distancea During the last sand storm he stood, with the camels, round Sabron’s litter, a human shade and shield, and when the storm ceased he fell like one dead, and the Arabs pulled off his boots and put him to bed like a child. One sundown, as they traveled Into the afterglow with the East behind them, when Tremont thought he could not endure another day of the voyage, when the pallor and waxlness of Sabron's face were like death Itself, Hammet Abou, who rode ahead, cried out and pulled up his camel short. He waved him arm. "A caravan, monsieur." In the distance they saw the tents, like lotus leaves, scattered on the pink sands, and the dark shadows of the Arabs and the couchant Beasts, and the glow of the encampment fire. "An encampment, monsieur!” Tremont sighed. He drew the cur- tain of the litter and looked in upon Sabron. who was sleeping. His set features, the growth of his uncut beard, the long fringe of bls eyes, his dark hair upon his forehead, his wan transparency—with the peace upon his face, he might have been a figure of Christ waiting for sepulture. Tremont cried to him: "Sabron. mon vieux Charles, reveille-tol! are in sight of human beings!" But Sabron gave no sign that heard or cared. Throughout the Journey across desert, Pitchoune had ridden at will and according to his taste, some times Journeying for the entire day perched upon Tremont's camel. He sat like a little figurehead or a mas cot. with ears pointed northward and his keen nose sniffing the desert air. Sometimes he would take the same position on one of the mules that car- ried Sabron's litter, at bis master's feet. There he would lie hour after hour, with his soft eyes fixed with understanding sympathy upon Sab- ron's face. He was. as be bad been to Fatou Annl, a kind of fetish—the caravan adored him. Now from bis position at Sabron’s feet, he crawled licked his master’s hand. “Charles!" Tremont cried, ed the soldier's hand. Sabron opened bis eyes, sane. The glimmer of a smile touched kt{ <•«* his lips. He said Tremont's name, recognized him. "Are we home?" he Threatened by the Engulfing Sand asked weakly. "Is it France?" storm. Tremont turned and dashed away a tear. an's voice In the distance, singing, one He drew the curtains of the litter after another, familiar melodies, and and now walked beside it, his legs Anally be beard the "Kyrie Elelson,” feeling like cotton and his heart beat and to its music Sabron again fell ing. asleep. As they came up toward the en The next day be received a visitor, campment, two people rode out to It was not an easy matter to intro- meet them, two women in white riding duce visitors to his bedside, for Plt- habits, on stallions, and as the evening choune objected. Pltcboune received breeze fluttered the veils from their the Marquise d'Esclignac with great helmets, they seemed to be flags of displeasure. welcome. "Is he a thoroughbred?” asked the Under his helmet Tremont was red Marquise d'Esclignac. and burned. He bad a short, rough "He has behaved like one,” replied growth of beard. the officer. Therese de la Maine and Julia Red There was a silence. The Marquise mond rode up. Tremont recognized d'Esclignac was wondering what her them, and came forward, half stagger niece saw in the pale man so near ing. He looked at Julia and smiled, still to the borders of the other and pointed with his left hand toward world. the litter; but he went directly up to "You will be leaving the army, of Madame de la Maine, who sat Immov course," she murmured, looking at him able on her little stallion. Tremont Interestedly. seemed to gather her in bls arms. He "Madame!" said the Capltaine de lifted her down to him. Sabron, with his blood—all that was Julia Redmond's eyes were on the in him—rising to his cheeks. litter, whose curtains were stirring in "I mean that France has done noth the breeze. Hammet Abou, with a ing for you. France did not rescue profound Balaam, came forward to her. you and you may feel like seeking a "Mademoiselle,” he said, respect more—another career." fully, "he lives. I have kept my word ” (TO BE CONTINUED.) Pitchoune sprang from the litter and ran over the sands to Julia Redmond. St, Bride of Ireland. She dismounted from her horse alone St. Bride, the patroness of Ireland and called him: "Pitchoune! Plt- and of Fleet street, whose feast falls choune!” Kneeling down on the des- >n February, was the beautiful daugh ert, she stooped to caress him, and ter of a bard who became the religious he crouched at her feet, licking her disciple of St. Patrick and abbess of hands. Kildare. The story of St. Bride, or Bridget, fired the Celtic imagination, CHAPTER XXV. and in Ireland about twenty parishes bear the name of Kilbride. The spire As Handsome Does. of her church In Fleet street has been When Sabron next opened his eyes twice struck by lightning and much he fancied that he was at home in his reduced from the original height, but old room in Rouen, in the bouse where is still one of the tallest steeples in he was born, in the little room in London. It is supposed to have been which, as a child, dressed In his dimity i designed by Wren’s young daughter.— night gown, he had sat up in bis bed Pal) Mall Gazette. by candle light to learn his letters from the cookery book. Have a Good Bed. The room was snowy white. Out In Farm and Fireside a contributor, side the window be beard a bird sing, writing a practical article about mat and near by, he beard a dog’s smoth tresses and other provisions for beds, ered bark. Then he knew that he makes the following general comment: was not at home or a child, for with "In furnishing a home the housewife the languor and weakness came his should give most careful thought to memory. A quiet nurse in a hospital the beds and their equipment. We dress was sitting by his bed, and spend at least a third of our Ilves In Pltcboune rose from the foot of the bed, and it Is worth while to make bed and looked at him adoringly. that third pleasant and refreshing. The He was in a hospital In Algiers. best mattresses and springs are none “Pitchoune," he murmured, not too good when one is storing up knowing the name of his other com strength for some work. Besides, as is panion, "where are we, old fellow?" the case with most household pur The nurss replied in an agreeable chases, the best are really the cheap Anglo-Saxon French: est In the en4.” œ LOVE 3TODY MÁBIEVAN VOD ILLUSTRATIONS^^1 CHAPTER XXV—Continued. —17— Sabron could not reply. Her rib bons and flowere and jewels shook In his eyes like a kaleidoscope. His flush h^d made him more natural. In his invalid state, with his hair brushed back from his fine brow, there was something spiritual and beautiful about him. The Marquise d’Esclignac looked on a man who had been far and who had determined of bls own ac cord to come back. She said more gently, putting her hand affectionately over hist "Get strong, monsieur—get well. Eat all the good things we are making for you. 1 dare say that the army cannot spare you. It needs brave hearts.” Sabron was so agitated after her departure that the nurse said he must teceive no more visits for several days, and he meditated and longed and thought and wondered, and near ly cursed the life that had brought him back to a world which must be lonely for him henceforth. When he sat up in bed he was a shadow. He bad a book to read and read a few lines of It. but he put it down as the letters blurred. He was sitting so, dreaming and wondering how true or how false It was that he had seen Julia Redmond come several times to his bedside during the early days of hla illness hero In the hos pital. Then across his troubled mind suddenly came the words that he had heard her sing, and he tried to recall them. The Red Cross nurse who so charitably sang In the hospital came to the wards and began her mission. One after another she sang familiar songs. "How the poor devils must love It!” Sabron thought, and he blessed her for charity. How familiar was her voice! Rut that was only because be was so 111. But he began to wonder and to doubt, and across the distance came the notes of the tune, the melody of the song that had haunted him for many months: aunt. In surprise and delight. "Rob ert will be enchanted, but be would not be able to leave his friend so soon." "Ho need not," said the girl, “no.' need you leave unless you wish." The Marquise d'Esclignac entertain ed a thousand thoughts. She had not studied young girl's minds for a long time. She had heard that the mv> ern American girl was very extreme and she held her in rather I.gilt es teem. Julia Redmond she had con sidered to be out of the general rule. "Was it possible,” she wondered, "that Julia, in comparing Tremont with the Invalid, found Robert more attractive?" "Julia," she said severely, as though her niece were a child, pointing to a chair, "sit down." Slightly smiling, the young girl obeyed her aunt. "My dear. I have followed your ca prices from France to Africa. Only by pleading heart-failure and mortal illness could I dissuade you from go ing Into the desert with the caravan. Now. without any apparent reason, you wish to return to France." "The reason for coming here has been accomplished, ma tante. Mon sieur de Sabron has been found.” "And now that you have found him." said the marquise reproachfully, "and you discover that he is not all your romantic fancy Imagined, you are go ing to run away from him. In short, you mean to throw him over.” "Throw him over, ma tante!” mur mured the girl. "1 have never had the chance. Between Monsieur de Sabron and myself there Is only friendship.” "Fiddlesticks!” said tho Marquise d'Esclignac impatiently. "I have no understanding of the modern young God keep you safe, my lov«. All through th« night. Rest cloa« In hl« encircling arm« Until the light. My heart 1« with you as I kneel to pray. Good night! God keep you In hla care alway. (TO BK CONTINUED) Thick shadow« creep like «Bent ghoata About my head; I lose myself tn tender dreams While overhead The moon come« stealing through the window-bars. A silver sickle gleaming 'mid the stars. WOMAN THE HOME BUILDER Undoubtedly th« Chief Trade In Which Females of tho Country Are Engaged. For I, though I am far away. Feel safe and strong. To trust you thus, dear love—and yet. The night la long I say with sobbing breath the old fond prayer. Good night! Sweet dreams! God keep you everywhere!” When she had finished singing there were tears on the soldier's cheeks and he was not ashamed. Pitchoune. who remembered the tune as well, crept up to him and laid his head on his master's hand. Sabron had just time to wipe away the tears when the Due de Tremont came in. "Old fellow, do you feel up to see ing Miss Redmond for a few mo ments?” • •••••• When she came in he did not know whether he most clearly saw her sim ple summer dress with the single jewel at her throat, her large hat that framed her face, or the gentle lovely face all sweetness and sympathy. He believed her to be the future Duch esse de Tremont. "Monsieur de Sabron, we are all so glad you are getting well." "Thank you. Mademoiselle.” He seemed to look at her from a great distance, from the distance to the end of which he had so wearily been traveling. She was lovelier than he had dreamed, more rarely sweet and adorable. "Did you recognize the little song, Monsieur?" "It was good of you to sing ft.” "This is not the first time I have teen you. Monsieur de Sabron. I came when you were too ill to know of it.” "Then I did not dream," said the officer simply. He was as proud as he was poor. He could only suppose her engaged to the Due de Tremont. It explained her presence here. In his wildest dreams he could not suppose that she had followed him to Africa. Julia, on her part, having done an extraordin ary and wonderful thing, like every brave woman, was seized with terror and a sudden cowardice. Sabron, after all, was a stranger. How could she know his feelings for her? She spent a miserable day. He was out of all danger; in a fortnight he might leave the hospital. She did not feel that she could see him again as things were. The Com- tesse de la Maine had returned to Paris as soon as Tremont came in from tho desert. "Ma tante,” said Julia Redmond to the Marquise d’Esclignac. “can we go back to France immediately?” "liy dear Julia!” exclaimed her tlrely unconventional and has Oe«n linos we left Francs. It Is 1 who should spsak to the Capltalna de Sabron You are so extremely rich that It will be a difficult matter for a poor and honorable young man. . . Indeed, my dear, I may as wall tell you that I shall do so when wo reach homo.” "Oh," said tho girl, turning per fectly pale and stepping forward to ward her aunt, "if you consider such a thing 1 shall leave for America at once." The Marquise d'Esclignac gave a petulant sigh. “How Impossible you are, Julia. Understand mo, my dear, I do not •vent a woman of my family to be a coquette. I do not want It said that you are an American flirt—it Is In bad taste and entirely misunderstood In the Faubourg St.-Germain." The girl, bewildered by her aunt's attitude and extremely troubled by tho threat of the marriage conven tion, said: "Don't you understand? In this case It Is peculiarly delicate. He might ask me from a sense of honor." "Not In any sense," said the Mar quise d'Esclignac. “It has not oc curred to the poor young officer to suppose for a moment that a young woman with millions, as you are so fortunate to be. would derange her self like this to follow him. If I thought no I would not have brought you, Julia. What 1 have done, I have done solely for your peace of mind, my child. Thia young man loves you. Ho believes that you love him. no doubt. You have given him sufficient reason, heaven knows! Now," said her aunt emphatically. "I do not in tend that you should break his heart." It was more than likely that the Marquise d'Esclignac was looking back twenty-five years to a time, when as a rich American, she had put aalde her love for a penniless soldier with an Insignificant title Rhe re membered how she had followed hla campaign. Rhe folded her lorgnon and looked at her niece. Julia Red mond aaw a cloud pass over her aunt's tranquil face, Rhe put her arms around her and kissed her tenderly. "You really think then, ma tante, that he will come to Parin'- ' "Without a doubt, my dear.” "You think he carea, ma tante?" Her aunt klased her and laughed. “I think you will be happy to a hour goofs extent. He Is a fine man." "But do I need to promise you?” aak«d the girl, "Don't you know?” "1 shall be perfectly ashamed of you," said the Marquise d'Esclignac. "If you are anything but a woman of heart and decision In this matter.” Evidently ahe waited, and Julia Red mond, allghtly bowing her lovely head In deference to the older lady who had not married her first love, said obediently: "I promise to do as you wish, ma tanto." When He Sat Up In Bed He Was a Shadow. girl. She makes her own marriages and her subsequent divorces. I am ;our aunt, my dear, your mother's sister, and a woman of at least twen ty-five years’ more experience than you have.” Julia was not following- her aunt's train of thought, but her own. She felt the hint of authority and bondage in her aunt’s tone and repeated: "I wish to leave Algiers tomorrow." "You shall do so," said her aunt. "I am rejoiced to get out of the Orient. It is late to order my dresses for Trouvllle, but I can manage. Before we go, however, my dear, 1 want you to make me a promise." "A promise, ma tante?” The girl's tone implied that she did not think she would give It. "You have played the part of fate In the life of this young man, who, I find, is a charming and brave man. Now you must stand by your guns, my dear Julia." “Why, how do you mean, ma tante?” "You will go to Paris and the Cap- ftalne de Sabron will get well rapidly. He will follow you, and If It were not for Tremont, myself, your Red Cross Society and the presence here of Madame de la Maine, you would have been very much compromised. But never mind,” said the Marquise d'Esclignac magnificently, "my name Is sufficient protection for my niece. I am thinking solely of the poor young man." "Of Monsieur de Sabron?” “Of course," said the Marquise d'Es clignac tartly, "did you think I meant Robert? You have so well arranged his life for him, my dear.” "Ma tante,” pleaded the girl. The marquise was merciless. "I want you to promise me, Julia, before you sail for home, that if Sab ron follows us and makes you under stand that he loves you, as he will, that you will accept him.” Julia Redmond looked at the Mar quise d'Esclignac In astonishment. She half laughed and she half cried. "You want me to promise?'' “I do,” said her aunt firiply, regard ing her niece through her lorgnon, "In the first place the affair is a» Yea, of course, it la homemaking. Everybody knows that, but the figures for it. compiled by tho United Rtatea Board of Education statisticians, are worth noting. Of the 31,000,000 fe males over ten years of age in the United States 24.000,000 are engaged In homemaking. Girls may be enter ing more and more Into other trades, but in the last analysis they general ly fall back or advance to the rank of homemakers. Hence, says the Federal Education al board, the importance of giving spe cial attention to scientific cooking in the vocational schools. The girlish hope of being able to hire a cook la apt to be disappointed as frequently as the hope of keeping one when she is hired. ■ It is one of tho oddest things of life that cooking, the prep aration of the food that sustains life, the art that can waste or economize in the chief Item of family expendi tures, Is so largely left to be picked up as beat It may be without eerioua consideration or training. If the woeful waste resulting from amateur cookery could be computed In dollars and cents it would rival the war bills of Europe. If the Indigestion, dyspep sia and kindred physical disturbances caused by lncajiablo cooks could be tabulated they would dwarf the list of killed, missing and wounded. Lost Hand Digging Grave. Grave digging is not an extra haz ardous occupation, even though in ex cavating graves it is necessary to use dynamite to break hardpan, the Indus trial Insurance department has decid ed. The department rejected the claim of John Borgford. a Seattle sex ton. whose left hand was partly blown off by a dynamite cap. Although use of explosives generally makes a class extra hazardous, the general occupation of grave digging Is such a peaceful one that exception can not be made when blasting Is neces sary, the commission holds.—Olympia (Wash.) Dispatch to the Portland Ore gonian. Flag for New York City. Tho board of aldermen adopted a flag for the city of New York—three perpendicular bars of blue, white and orange, which were the colors of the Dutch flag used when New York was New Netherlands. The board also adopted a new city seal, which will appear in blue on the white bar of the flag. The new emblem will be raised on the city ball on June 12, the two hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the establishment of tho board of al dermen.