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About The Sunday Oregonian. (Portland, Ore.) 1881-current | View Entire Issue (Oct. 4, 1914)
THE SUNDAY ORCGOXIAX. PORTLAND, - OCTOBER 4, 1914. 9 $125. a famous novel, depleting with power and Dathos the workings of a French child's mind. This story won the prize of $2000 offered by the Academic Fraicaise for "im aginative work of an elevated character." The Swindler, by Ethel M. Dell, $1.35, a series of short, stories, powerfully drawn up, en the general text of love and marriage, (Putnam's Sons. K. Y.) - Maid of the Mist, by John Oxenham. $1.30. a desert-island story, with a revela tion of wonderful love experience. Bellamy, by Elinor Mordaunt, $1.93, a novel of uplift, with a hero who begins as a mill-hand, believes in advancement, and scales the ladder of success. (John Lane Co.. K. Y. Dawn QHarasal "he Hands of Emu, by Margaret Deland. tl illustrated. Harper & Brothers, Kew York The undercurrent of this novel Is the Bible text: "The voice is 'Jacob's voice, but the hands are the bands of. Esau." The everlasting query in a girl's novel, such as this one, Js: Has an engaged girl the right to demand that her lover shall instantly tell her all the misdeeds of which he or his family has been guilty? Has the man the same right to demand a similar con fession frojri the girl? Ought rather the two sweethearts not take each other on trust? The case in point is as follows: Tom Vail, 28 years old. good looking and of fine address, secures a position as draughtsman in the office of John Morgan, architect, and Mr. Morgan's only child. Miss Nina Morgan, falls in love with Tom. She invites him to dinner at her father's home, and plain ly shows where her- affections are: Mr. Morgan wonders if Vail's family is "all right," and otherwise respectable? Judge Oliver Morgan, Nina's uncle, ?alls on Tom's mother, and to his surprise recognizes her as the widow pf a client of his who had been sen- enced to jail for embezzlement. Mrs. ail was much distressed, and said: Judge Morgan, my son does not now." She meant that Tom had not een told his father died in jail, sent here for embezzling $250,000, while e was a trusted bank official and unday school teacher, the victims con- isting principally of women and chil dren. 'Madam, you may rely on me," said he judge. Nina grows fond of Mrs. Vail, her uture mother-in-law, and in the mean ime Nina had been told by her ather and uncle of Tom's convict ather. Mrs. Vail dies, protesting that om does not know of the stain on he family name. Nina tells her family hat she will marry Tom, anyhow. Bo ar so good. Mr. Morgan sends Tom to work in a istant town, and while there Tom eets a man who, pn hearing the ame Vail, tells the story of Vail, the onvict, Tom recognizes the man de bribed' to be his father. Judge iorgan meets Tom's informant, hears f the story told to Tom, and notifies ina that her lover is at last aware f the family skeleton. Now, Tom did not instantly write h Nina and tell her of his unfortunate iscovery, and this hurt her. How dare om have any secrets from her? This the central note of Nina's character. lie admired frankness and truth, and buldn't stand deceit. She was a stern idge. Tom calls on her, and the meet- jig is happy, although a little strained. ney talk of lover's nothings. Haven't you anything more to tell e?" asks Nina, in a whisper. Only that I love you," he says. Now, reader, what course should ina pursue? Should she forgive Tom d forget his father s past? If you woman, and were in the posi on of Miss Nina Morgan, what would )U do? Tom did not insist on Nina vealing her past, say, of one of her icestor3 who 1,000,000 years ago. obably ate his captives. The subject forms an interesting bject for discussion in women s clubs. I-nd a Momls. by Edward D. Pace. SI. 50. 14'onverninr Justice, by JticititiB A. Emery. Yale University Press, New ior "Trade Morals, Their Origin, Growth lei Province" is the outgrowth of a lurse of lectures delivered to the laduating class at the Sheffield Scien- Hc -Hc-hou! of Yale University, in 1911, lie book, written in learned, optimis- vein, furnishes an impressionistic i-ture of the interrelations of society, lrals and mind in their effect upon 1 conduct of the business man. Con- llerable research work is in evidence. "Concerning Justice," by a former lief Justice of the Maine Supreme lurt,'is made up of addresses delivered fore the law school of Yale Univer- ly, and is learned and technical. One Judge Emery s definitions is: "There les exist something, some virtue, some Iitiment. however indefinable in 'ms, holding men together in society nlte their natural seltlshness, and Ithout which they would fall apart. lis this virtue, this ligament of soci- that we call Justice. Itian Hront Talks, by Charles A. East Inuii. J.innuuiit ' Quartette, by Etta An. I army H.ik.T. The Kanrh at the Wol erine. by B. M. Bower. JJttle, Browu & 'o., Boston. Indian Scout Talks," 190 pages, SO its, healthy, well written advice to who venture into the woods in pur- It of health or pleasure. A guide- k tor boy scouts and campfire girls, hook that ought to have a large sale. iFairmount's Quartette," $1.30. for lis 12 to IS years old, an admirable .el picturing life at Fairmount lidemy, a finishing; school for girls tne DanKs or the Hudson, N. Y. The ef characters portrayed are four girl ims who are now seniors. IThe Ranch at Wolverine," $1.30. is 1-trong, masterful novel of cowboys, Ich life and cattle-stealing in Idaho. of the very best stories this enter- sing author of life in the open has p tten. Isl. Raid, by Byron A. Tunn. $1.10. l inninff the W ilderness, by Margaret Hill I cOarter. $1 .otj. A. U. AlcOlurz & Co., Mcaffo. IThe Last Kaid" is the fifth and last lumo of "The Young Missourian's lies." and tells in stirring fashion of Irilla warfare in Missouri, in our lit War time. A story for boys and ths. EVinning the Wilderness" tells in antic,' graphic style how Asher elot, once soldier in the " United Ites Army and later a soldier of Ilization, takes his young wife to a in on the bleak Kansas prairies makes a iamily home. The period lust after our Civil War. The story Iv-lnninvr. glowing and has plenty of Jit beats. - iTek of Ot. r.v L. Frank "Ranm. and amy. the Joyous, by Edith Stow. IUus- Iitoa. Kemy i Hritton Co., Chlcafto, 111. wo fascinating holiday books for ilren. Irik-Tok" belongs to the series of lous Oz books known, mostly to all jdren able to read easily. This time len Ann, of Oagaboo, with an army llS soldiers ani one enlisted man. out to eonauer the world and the she has There are 272 pages. Kancjr, the Joyous," costs $1, is a I thy novel about a young maiden Ith knowing. Nancy is a mountain Containing 253 pages, the book a colored frontispiece bv James Iracken, with decorations by Jo- i-ierre isuyttens. Inn of liberty, by Corrinno S. and R. Tsanorr. si. 35. Outing Publishing , Nw York City. Iirid and romantic, this novel of le of Macedonia trying to shake off iTurkish yoke has plenty of intrigue blooasnea. i ne laie iPone succes- of thrills. hrs of m Self-Made Failure, by Maurice uzer. tlluKtratea. si. Small, May- t4 & CO., .Boston. om Jim to Bob. an elder brother younger. Advice in the form of Irtaining letters, and lots of it. One "ft is easy to advise others, but:ape you a worthy model V of the best bits of counsel is: "It isn't tha job that makes the man; it's the man that makes the job." Jim owns his own house and is worth 335.000. which he got by Baving $1500 a year lor six years and being in a position. when one of the partners died, to buy out his interest for cash. So - Jim has a right to give advice on many sub jects. The book is wise, epigrammatic and witty. Jesus, the Carpenter, by Rev. Walter Sen well Hinsttn. L.L. ., 50 cents. 125 pages. The J. K. Gill Co., Portland. The author of the 15 sermons con tained ' in this helpful little book is the eloquent pastor of the first Bap tist Church, of this city, a church which 1b widely known along the Pa cific Coast as ''the people's church." Dr, Hinson is an exponent of Chris tianity, and especially the democratic element therein. Consequently, he has become known in Portland not as the preacher of a particular sect, but of and for everybody. To speak frankly, there is a suspicion of dryness, often of dry-rot, in many learned sermons. It is a pleasure to state, however, that these sermons are not in that category, and are as lively as a May morning, and as reverently inspired as a fine orchestral symphony. We hear of people who say, with great sincerity, that they are neither "church people" nor believers in any one form of ecclesiasticism. Very well, then. Read these friendly advices. For the churched and non-ehurched, the lit tle book is to be heartily commended. The Christ it pictures is a human one, Just as if he were passing on the streets of this city going to work. He is pic tured as a real friend. The book is published by the Baptist Young People's Union of the First Bap tist Church, "in honor of 'the Car penter' who furnished the plans and material." Phyllis, by Maria ThompBOn Daviess. $1.25. Illustrated. The Century Co., New York City. Miss Phyllis Forsythe is a rich girl with a rich, doting father and an in valid mother. Phyllis is 16 years old. and she is sent to be educated at Byrd Academy, down South, with plebeians as her schoolmates. Phyllis is sweet tempered, noble in character, and is a blessing to all around her. She keeps a diary which she calls "Louise," and this novel, comforting and wholesome, is the result of "Louiee." The story is a remarkably natural exposition ofT a young girl's life. ) The Foot of the Rainbow, toy Myrtle Glenn Roberta. $1. Paul Elder & Co., an Fran cisco. A play in three acts, with love as its motif. "When has a man found the treasure? When ne has found his soul. When he is filled with joy and peace. When he knows that love for mart and beast and things, is life," The con struction of the play la beautifully poetic, and the sentiment expressed, artistic. The mechanical part of the book is an art treasure of the print ers' best. The Quitter, by Jacob Fisher. $1.20. Illus trated. The John C. Winston Co., Phlla deluhla. Ransford Hallam, rich, muscular, and indolent, loves Miss Sophie Burton, but she will have none of him and calls him no good, a "quitter." She wants a baby musk-ox coat, and Hallam goes to the Arctic Circle to get musk-ox skins. While there he meets Norma Leonard, child of Nature, and she makes a real man of him. A novel of fervent, romantic interest. The Hunting of the Snark,Ty Lewis Carroll. 50 cents. Illustrated. The Macmillan Co., New York City. One of the new series of the ponular- priced Macmillan's Juvenile Library. The booK is a reprint of a well-known and admired verse collection of fanci ful adventures, loved especially by children of all ages. Ixve, Home and the Inner Life, by Arthur H. 31eason. 0O cents. Fred A. stokes Co., New York City. A little gift book of friendshio or affection, especially suited for a young woman. The talks are all serious and helpful; 104 pages. The t out of a Promike. by Mrs. Baillie Rey nolds. 91.-5. tieo. H. Ooran Co., 24ew Yortc City. An English novel of force and bright ness. The heroine is a suffragist. JOSEPH M. QUENTIN. ... NEW BOOKS RECEIVED. Her Wings', by Frances Newton Symraes Allen. tl.Xi. a smart, well-written nvvei of a srlrl who arlfted Into feminism, and re pented in time (Houghton-Mifflin Co., Boston). The Duke of Oblivion, by John Reed Scott. $1.25. a dashing novel of an island on the Caribbean Sea where dwell, isolated, a Brit. Ish Duke, his family and retainers. The Three Furlongers, by Shiela Kaye Smith. $1.25. an English novel of big ac complishment, written by a new novelist of unusual power (Lipplncott. Phlla.) The Backwoodsmen, by Charles G. D. Rob erts. 50 cents, an admirable reprint of a splendid out-of-doors novel (Mac Mil lan Co., N. Y.). The Wonder-worker, by Vincent Brown, $1.85, a novel about an old couple each more than 70 years old, who had net mar ried, yet had children. In their innocent, child-like lives, comes a great preacher reformer. The effect is nearly electrical. The story has a wealth of emotional power, Llsmovle. bv B. M. Croker, $1.35, a clever and racy novel of Irish life.. (Brentano's, N. Y.) ,' ' Lady Cassandra, by Mrs, George De Horn Vaigey, $1.35, an English novel of love and sacrifice. The Dread of Responsibility, by Emlle Faguet. $1.25. nowerf ulessays which have as their principal text a constructive sug gestion for what the author calls a true. aristocracy, a government unaer aemocranc forms. Jean Olllea. Schoolboy, by Andre La-fon. SLEUTHS ARE PUZZLED BY ANTICS OF KEYMEN Two Finally Learn Why Operators in Happy Mood Stop to Listen at Iron Post, Murmtir "O. K., O. K.,' and Then Wander Away, WITH uncertain steps he ap proached the corner of Broad way and Stark streets. He was not drunk, "just comfortable," in police vernacular. At the corner he stopped suddenly and listened. Some familiar sound attracted him. His eyes rested on a lamppost. He approached thje post and put his ear to it. For a long time the man remained in this position. Finally Patrolman McCulloch noticed him hugging the post. "What's the matter, won't it stand up?" inquired the officer. The man still listened intently, only turning his head to grin at the police man. . "Here, you'd better move on. Tou've stood there long enough," ordered Mc Culloch. "O K, O K, old man, O K," replied the stranger, and sauntered up the street. "Huh!" ejaculated McCulloch, with a puzzled expression as the other went his way. Price and Mallet See M". A few nights later Detectives Price and Mallett stood on Broadway directly across from the same corner. The part ners were contemplating. Finally Mal lett spoke. "I'm watching that son of a gun acrosB the street," he said, reflectively. "He's been standing with his ear to that lamppost for five minutes. Let's see what's the matter with him." The two crossed the street. "What's the noise there?" tasked Price. The man grinned. "Whatcha standing there listening like that for?" repeated the officer, showing his star. "O K, O K," said the man. "All clear on this end. O K," ar-d- walked away. "What's that O K stuff he's pullin'r' Price asked Mallett. ''The same thing another fellow told McCulloch," Mallett said. "Something funny about this corner." Price put his ear to the post. "Whaddaya hear?" asked his partner. "Nothing except a little ticking." Mct'ullocts Cause By. Both put their ears to the post. Just then McCulloch walked by on his beat and saw the detectives. "What the " he began. "Say, I Just chased a fellow away from there half an hour ego." "What did he say when you chased him away?" asked Mallett. "Said O K. O K, lust the same as an other fellow a week ago." "I can't figure it out,'-' said Price. A few nights later another man in happy frame of mind came to the same corner and listened. He also put his ear to the post. Mysteries are solved by accident. Price and Mallett accidentally came along and saw this man. r "It's Burke," said one. t "I know him," said dhe other, "and grabbed the man by the shoulder. "Say. do ypu want to go to the can Books Added to Library BIOGRAPHY. Victoria, queen of England Early court of Queen Vletoria, by Clare Jerrold. 1012. BOOKS tfl FOREIGN LANGUAGES- Babad History of America, In Yiddish. Carr Guida degll stall V'nltl per i'im mtgrante ltallano. Carr Guide to the United States for the Jewish Immigrant. In Yiddish. Carr Prsewodnik po Utanaeh ZJednoc sonych do usytku polsklcn imigrantow. Feigenbaum Washington; a sketch of the great General Washington. In Yiddish. U. B. Constitution Constitution of the United States, and The cltlsen under new laws: in English and Yiddish; tr. by Alex ander Harkavy. Gaboriau Rope ebout the neck: a novel in 4 parts, by Krante. In Yiddish. Gordin Alicia ben Abuyah. In Yiddish. Gordln Mirsly Afros. In Yiddish. Gordin The slaughtering; a drama in 4 acts. In Yiddish. Harkavy Columbus; or. The discovery of America. In Yiddish. Hurwlts Biography of Benjamin Frank lin; freely tr. from the Russian. In Yiddish. Margolls Of the present time; satires and stories. In Yiddish. Nordau Selected Zionist writings. In Yid dish. Rosenfeld Herarich Heine. In Yiddish. Seiffert -Cuba: or. The Spanish inquisition of the 19th century; a modern novel with historical basis. In Yiddish. Tolstoi The Kreutser sonata. In Yiddish. Weisenberg Selected works, v. 1. In Yid dish. DESCRIPTION AND TRAVEL. . Jerrold Hampton Court. 1912. FICTION. Martin Barnabetta. Walpole Duchess of Wrexe. FINE ARTS. Emery Elements of harmony. 1907. Emery Elements of harmony; supple mentary exercises, chants and chorals. 1S14. George Game of auction plnnochle. 1913. Lynes Key to Emery's Elements of har mony. 19O0. Spaln-Equal temperament In theory and practice, n. d. HISTORY. Vlckers England in the later middle ages. 1913. LITERATURE. -Guthrie Vital study of literature. 1912. Magnus -Introduction to poetry. Ed. 2. 1912. Moore Hall and farewell; v. 8, Vale. 1914. Sharp Studies and appreciations. 1912. PHILOSOPHY. Hall .Mastery of grief. 1913. RELIGION. New York city Christian science institute. Vital issues in Christian science. 1914. DUCHESS HELD AS FOE Germans Take Red Cross Workers bat American Gets Them Oat. THE HAGUE, Sept. 2. Milllcent. Duchess of Sutherland and ber Red Cross worken left for England by way of Flushing recently. Tb,e party had an adventurous experience during; the bombardment of Namur, working1 in a hospital established In a convent and nursing 150 Belgians, 45 French and eight German wounded. After the Ger mans captured Namur the Belgian and French patients were removed as pris oners of war, although their condition was such that they should not have been moved, according to members of the party. The Germans took over the care of their own wounded. , Several shells exploded in the con vent yard and the house in which the Curses were quartered was burned. The party went from Namur to Brus sels, where they were placed under the control of the German military authori ties. Thanks to the intervention of Brand Whltlock, the American Minis ter, they were permitted to leave for the Netherlands. again? Whatchu listening to there?" demanded Price. Burke grinned. "O K, O K, I'll go home. Seventy three, old man." and when the detective loosened his grip Burke walked away. "O K, 73," repeated Mallett. "Say, John, what does he mean by 73?" "May be a number on Broadway. Let's catch him and find out." The sleuths overtook the fellow and brought him back. "Now look here. Burke," said Mal lett. "What doea everybody listen to that post for and then say O. K., O. K., and go away? What does it mean?" Burke laughed uproariously. "Listen," he invited, and the three put their ears to the post. "Hear anything?" he asked. "Only a little ticking," growled Price. "That's it. Telegraph,' somewhere. "Let's take a look." He peered inside the Hotel Oregon, At the Postal branch office, an oper ator was busy at a desk. Burke rounds Poat. Burke listened in the air a minute, rjuzzled a bit, and then hammered the post with his fist. "There it is, see. The wire's wof king in there. Ton can bear the sounder out here, but the post's hollow, and somehow it sounds like it's coming from the post. That's all there is to It." "Clear as mud," agreed Mallett. "But what does everybody listen for and then say O. K. and go away?" Again Burke laughed loudly. "lou know crooks, all right, but you don't know operators. This sounds like it's coming from the post, so they listen. Every time an operator hears an instrument he naturally looks around to see where the sounder is. Especially if he's got some thing under his belt," Burke added. "What's this O. K. stuff?" inquired Price. "Just the same as you say 1 gotcha, Steve,' " explained Burke. "When you get the stuff they're sending, you say O. K. on the wire, see?, Any good shop-talking operator will say O. K. instead of 'alright.' " "Pretty simple, then," said Mallett, turning to Price. - Burke started to leave. Number Explained, Too. "Wait a minute, there," yelled one of the sleuths. ' "What was this .room number you gave us?" What?" "That number 56 or 78 or some thing." "Oh, 73, my dear fellow. That means 'my best compliments.' I repeat it, 73," and Burke departed homeward. "O. K.," grinned Mallett as he left. At headquarters the detectives wrote a lengthy report, three sheets full, on Jhe occurrence. The matter . was cleared up. It should go on record. The sheets were turned oyer to Acting Captain Tichenor. . Tichenor read and grinned. Then he eeixed a big blue pencil and wrote across the face of the report the let ters: "O. K." Chapter IV (.Continued.) VON GERHARD was here in August. I told him that all my firm reso lutions to forsake pewspaperdorn forever were slipping away, one by one. "I have heard of the fascination of the newspaper office," ho said, in his understanding way. "I believe you have a heimweh for it, not?" "Helmwehl That's the word," I had agreed. "After you have been a news paper writer for seven years and loved it you will be a newspaper writer, at . heart and by instinct at least, until you die. There's no get ting away from it. It's in the blood. Newspaper men have been known to inherit fortunes, to enter politics, to write books and become famous, to degenerate into press agents and be come infamous, to blossom Into per sonages, to sink into nonentities, but their news-nose remained a part of them, and the inky, smoky, stuffy smell of a newspaper office was ever sweet in their nostrils," But, "Not yet," Von Gerhard had said, "unless you want to have again this miserable business of the sick nerfs. Wait yet a few months." And so I have waited, saying noth ing to Norah and Max. But I want to be ia the midst of things. I miss the sensation of having my fingers at the pulse of the big, old world. I'm lonely for - Che noise and rush and the hard work; for a glimpse of the busy local room just before press time, when the lights are swimming in a smoky haze, and the big presses downstairs are thundering their warning to hurry, and the men are breezing in from their runs with the grist of news that will be ground finer and finer as it passes through the mill of the copy-readers' and editors' hands. I want to be there in the thick of the confusion that is, after all, so orderly. I want to be there when the telephone bells are ringing, and the typewriters are snapping, and the messenger boys are shuffling in and out, and the office kids ' are scuffling in a corner, and the big city editor, collar off, sleeves rolled up from his great arms, hair bristling wildly above his green eye shade, is swearing gently and smoking cigarette after cigarette, lighting each fresh ono at the dying glow of the last. I would give a year of my life to hear him say: "I don't mind tellin" you, Beatrice Fairfax, that that was a darn good story you got on the Millhaupt di vorce. The other fellows haven't a word that Isn't re-hash." All of which Is most unwomanly; for is not marriage woman's highest aim, and home her true sphere? Haven't I tried both? I ought to knew. I merely have been miscast in this life's drama. My par should have been that of one who makes her way alone. Peter, with his thin, cruel lips, and his shaking hands, and his haggard face and his smoldering eyes. Is a shadow forever blotting out the sunny places in my path. I was meant to be an old maid, like the terrible old Kitty O'Hara. Not one of -the tatting-and-tea kind, but an impres sive, bustling old girl, with a double chin. The sharp-tongued Kitty O'Hara used to say that being an old maid was a great deal like death by drown ing -a really delightful sensation when you ceased strugling. Norah has pleaded with me to be more like other women of my age, and for her sake I've tried. She has led me about to bridge parties and tea fights, and I have tried to act as though I were enjoying it all, but I knew ' that I wasn't getting on a bit. I have come to the conclusion that one year of newspapering counts for two years of ordinary existence, and that while I'm twenty-eight in the family Bible, I'm fully forty in side. When one day may bring under one's pen a priest, -a pauper, a prosti tute, a philanthropist, each with a story to tell, and each requiring to be bullied, or cajoled, or bribed, or threatened, or tricked Into telling it, then the end of that day's work finds one looking out at the world with eyes that are very tired and as old as the world itself. I'm spoiling for sewing bees and church sociables and afternoon bridges. A hunger for the city Is upon me. The long, lazy Summer days have slipped by. There is an Autumn tang in the air. The breeze has a touch that is sharp. Winter in a little Northern town! I should go mad. But Winter in the city! The streets at dusk on a frosty evening; the shop windows arranged by artist hands for the beauty-loving eyes of women; the rows of lights, like jewels strung on an invisible chain; the glitter of brass and enamel as the endless procession of motors flashes past; the smartly-gowned wo men; the keen-eyed, nervous men; the shrill notes of the crossing po liceman's whistle: every smoke-grimed wall and pillar taking on a mysterious shadowy beauty in the purple dusk, every unsightly blot obscured by the kindly night. But best of all, the fas cination of the People I'd like to Know. They pop up now and then in the shifting crowds, and are gone the next moment, leaVing behind them a vague regret. Sometimes I call them the People I'd Like to Know and sometimes I call them the People I Knn I'll Like, but it means much the same. Their faces flash by in the crowd, and are gone, but I recognize them instantly as belonging to my be loved circle of unknown friends. Once it was a girl opptvsite me in a car a girl with a wide, humorous mouth, and tragic eyes, and a hole in her shoe. Once it was a big, homely, red-headed giant of a man with an engineering magazine sticking out of his coat pocket. He was standing at a bok counter reading Dickens like a schoolboy and laughing in all the right places, I know, because I peeked over his shoulder to see. Another time it was a sprightly little grizzled wo man, staring into a dazzling shop win. dow in -which was displayed a won derful collection of fashionably impos sible hats and gowns. She was dressed all in rusty black, was the little old lady, and she had a quaint cast in her left eye that gave her the oddest, most sporting look. The cast was working overtime as she gazed at the gowns, and the ridiculous old sprigs on her Tusty black bonnet trembled with her silent mirth. She looked like one of thise clever, epigrammatic, dowdy old duchesses that one reads about in English novels. I'm sure she had 'cardamon seeds in her shabby bag, and a carriage with a crest on it waiting for her Just around the corner. I ached to slip my hand through her arm and ask her what she thought of it all. I know that her reply would have been exquisitely witty and audacious, and I did 60 long1 to hear her say it. No doubt some good angel tugs at my common sense, restraining me from doing these things that I am tempted to do. Of course, it would be madness for a woman to address unknown redVheaded men with a look of sen engineer about them and a book of Dickens in their hands; or perky old women with nut-cracker faces; or girls with wide humorous mouths. Oh, it couldn't be done, Jk suppose. They would clap me in a padded cell in no time if I were to say: , "Mister Red-headed Man, I'm se glad your heart ia young enough for Dickens. I "love him too enough to read him standing at a book counter in a busy shop. And do you know, I like the squareness of your jaw, and the way your eyes crinkle up when you laugh; and as for your being an engineer why one of the very first men I ever loved was the engineer in 'Soldiers of Fortune." '.' I wonder what the girl in .the car would have said if J had crossed over to her and put my band on her arm and spoken thus: "Girl with the wide, humorous mouth, and the tragic eyes, and the hole in your shoe, I think you must be an awfully good sort. I'W wager you paint, or write, or act. or do something clever like that for a living. But from that hole in your shoe which you have inked so care fully, although it persists in showing white at the seams, I fancy you are stumbling ovtr a rather stony bit of life's road Just now. And from the look in your eyes, girl, I'm afraid the stones have cut and bruised rather cruelly. But when I look at your smiling, humorous mouth I know that you are trying to laugh at the hurts. I think this .morning, when you inked your shoe for the dozenth time, you hesitated between tears and laughter, and the laugh won, thank God! Please keep right on laughing, and don't you dare stop for a minute! Because pret ty soon you'll come to a smooth, easy place, and then won't you be glad that you didn't give up to He down by the roadside, weary of your hurts?" Oh, It would never do. Never. And yet no charm possessed by the people I know and like can compare with the fascination of those people I'd like to know, and know I would like. Here at home with Norah there are no faces In the crowds. There are no crowds. When you turn the corner at Main street you are quite sure that you will see the same people in the same places. You know that Mamie Hayes will be flapping her duster Just outside the door of the jewelry store where she clerks. She gazes up and down Main street as she flaps the cloth, her bright eyes keeping a sharp watch for any stray traveling men that may chance to be passing. You know that there will be the same lounging group of white-faced, vacant eyed youths outside the poolroom. Dr. Briggs' patient runabout will be stand ing at his office doorway. Outside his butcher shop Assemblyman Schenck will be holding forth on the subject of county politics to a group of red-faced, badly dressed, prosperous looking farmers and townsmen, and as be talks the circle of brown tobacco juice which surrounds the group closes in upon them, nearer and nearer. And there, in a roomy chair in a corner of the public library reference room, facing the big front window, you will see Old Man Randall. His white hair forms a halo above his pitiful drink-marred face. He was to have been a great lawyer, was Old Man Randall. But on the road to fame he met Drink, and she grasped his arm and led him down byways and into crooked lanes, and finally into ditches, and he never ar rived at his goal. There in that library window nook it is cool in Summer and warm in Winter, v So he sits and dreams, holding an open volume, un read, on his knees. Sometimes he writes, hunched up in his corner, fever ishly scribbling at ridiculous plays, short stories and novels which later he will insist on reading to the tittering schoolboys and girls who come into the library to do their courting and refer ence work. Presently, when it grows dusk. Old Man Randall will put away his book, throuw his coat over his shoulders, sleeves dangling, flowing white locks sweeping the frayed vel vet collar. He will march out with his soldierly tread, humming a bit of a tune, down the street and into Van dermeister's saloon, where he will beg a drink and a lunch, and some man will give it to him for the sake of what Old Man Randall might have been. All these things you know. And knowing them, what is left for the im agination? How can one dream dreams about people when one knows how much tbey pay their hired girl and what they have for dinner on Wednes days? CHAPTER V. Tke Absurd Becomes Serious. I can understand the emotions of a broken-down warhorse that is hitched to a vegetable wagon. I am going to Milwaukee to. work! It is a thing to make the gods hold their sides and roll down from their mountain peaks with laughter. After New York Mil waukee! Of course Von Gerhard is to blame. But I think even he sees the humor of it. It happened in this way, on a day when I was indulging in a particularly greenery-yallery fit of gloom. Norah rushed into my room. I think 1 was mooning over some old papers, or let ters, or ribbons, or some such truck in the charming, knife-turning way that women have when they are blue. "Out wtd yez!" cried Norah. "On with your hat and coat! I've just had a wire from Ernst von Gerhard. He's coming, and you look like an' under done dill pickle. You aren't half as blooming as when he was here in Au gust, and this Is October. Get out and walk until you cheeks are so red that Von Gerhard will refuse to believe that this fiery-faced puffing, bouncing creature is the green and limp thing that huddled in a chair a few months ago. Out ye go!" And out I went. Hatless, I strode countrywards, leaving paved streets and concrete walks far behind. There were drifts of fallen leaves all about, and I scuffled through them drearily, trying to feel gloomy, and old, and useless, and failing because of the tang in the air. and the red-and-gold wonder of the frost-kissed leaves, and the regular' pump-pump of good red blood that was coursing through my body as per Norah's raquest. In a field at the edge of the town, just where city and country begin to have a bowing acquaintance, the col lege boys were at a football practice. Their scarlet sweaters made gay patches of color against the dull gray brown of the Autumn grass. "Seven-elghteen-two-fourJ"' called a voice. There followed a scuffle, a creaking of leather on leather, a thud. I watched them, a bit enviously, walk ing backwards until a twist in the road hid them from view. That same twist transformed my path into a real country road a brown, dusty, monoto nous Michigan country road that went severely about its business, never once stopping to flirt with the blushing Autumn woodland at its left, or to dally with the dimpling ravine at its right "Now if that were an English coun try road." thought I, "a sociably in clined, happy-go-lucky, out-for-pleas-ure English country road, one might expect something of it. On an English country road this would be the psycho logical moment for the appearance of a blond god. In gray tweed. What a delightful time of it Richard Le Gal lienne's hero had on his quest! He could not stroll -down the most inno cent looking lane, he might not loiter along the most out-of-the-way path, he never ambled over the barest piece of country road, that he did not come face to face with some witty and love ly woman creature, also in search of things unconventional, and able to quote charming lines from Chaucer to him." Ah, but that was England, and this is America. I realize it sadly a I step out of the. road to allow a yellow milk wagon to rattle past. The red letters on the yellow milk cart inform the reader .that it is the property of Au gust Schimmelpfennig, of Hickory Grove. The Schimmelpfennig eye may be seen staring down upon me from the bit of glass in the rear as the cart rat ties ahead, doubtless being suspicious of hatless young women wandering alons country roads at dusk alone. There was that in the staring eye to which I took exception. It wore an expression which made me feel sure that the mouth below it was all agrin, if I could but have seen it. It was bad enough to be stared at by the fishy Schimmelpfennig eye, but to be grinned at by the Schimmelpfennig mouth! I resented it. In order to show my re sentment I turned my back on the Schimmelpfennig cart and pretended to leok up the road which I had just traveled. I pretended to look up the road, and then I did look in earnest. No won der the Schimmelpfennig eye and mouth had worn the leering expres sion. The blond god in gray tweed was swinging Along toward me! X knew that .he was blond because he wore no hat and the last rays of the October sun were making a little halo effect about his bead. I knew that his gray clothes were tweed because every well regulated hero on a country road wears tweed. It's almost a religion with them. He was not near enough to make a glance at his features pos sible. I turned around and continued my walk. The yellow cart, with its Impudent Schimmelpfennig leer, was disappearing in cloud of dust. Shades of the "Duchess" and Bertha M. Clay! How doea one greet a blond god in gray tweed on a country road wheu one has him! The blond god solved the promlem for me. "Hi:" he called. I did not turn. There was a moment's silence. Then there came a shrill, insistent whistle, of the kind Giat is made by placing four fingers between the teeth. It is a favorite with the gallery gods. I would not have believed that gray tweed gods stooped to it. "Hi!" called the voice again, very near now. "Lieber Gott! Never have I seen so proud a young woman!" , I whirled about to . face Von Ger hard; a strangely boyish and unpro fessional looking Von Gerhard. "Young man." I said severely, "ha-re you been a-follerln' of me?" "For miles," groaned he, as we shook hands. "You walk like a grena dier. I am sent by the charming Norah to tell you that you are to come home to mix the salad dressing, for there is company for supper. I am the com pany." I was still a bit dazed. "But how did you know which road to take? And when " "Wunderbar, nicht wahr?" laughed Von Gerhard. "But really quite sim ple. I come in on an earlier train than I had expected, chat a moment with sister Norah, Inquire after thq. health of my patient, and I am told that she is running away from a horde of blue devils I quote your charming sister that have swarmed about her ail day. What direction did her flight take? I ask. Sister Norah shrugs her shoul ders and presumes that it is the road which shows the reddest and yellowest Autumn colors. That road will be your road. , So!" "Pooh! How simple! That is th second disappointment you have given me today." "But how Is that possible? The first has not had time to happen." "The first was yourself." I replied, rifdely. "I had been longing for an ad venture. And when I saw you 'way up the road, such an unusual figure foe our Michigan country roads, I for got that I was a disappointed old grass widder with a history, and I grew young again, and my heart jumped up kin to- my throat, and I sex to meslif, sez l: Lnter the hero: And it was only you." (To be Continued.) NURSE KIDNAPS HER WARD Love for Boy Prompts Theft and, At--tempt to Found Home. NEW YORK. Sept. 25. When Arthur Wiessner. 4 years old, who disappeared with his grandfather's housekeeper on September 11, 'was found recently the police discovered that the maternal in stinct in Mrs. May Carlson, the young housekeeper, had been' so strong that she had decided to establish a home of her own with Arthur aas her aon. She wept hysterically wh'en the child was taken from her. 5he was locked up In the Liberty avenue station, Brooklyn, on a charge of kidnaping. Oscar E. Wiessner, a hat manufac turer of Manhattan, had employed Mrs. Carlson as his housekeeper in his home at No. 97 Schenck avenue, Brooklyn, for more than a year. One of ber duties was the care of little Arthur, whose father is in Cleveland, and whose mother is on Staten Island. She obtained permission on Septem ber 11 to take Arthur with her on a trip to see her aunt, who lived at Co lumbus avenue and One Hundredth street. Manhattan. She did not say who her aunt was nor the number of her house. They did not return, and the next day Mr. Wiessner began a search. Failing to find anything he employed agency detectives and then called in the police, all with the re quest that no publicity be given to the matter. After a search of more than a week the police advised that the newspapers be informed, and there appeared for the first time stories of the disappear ance of the child and the housekeeper. Newspaper publicity quickly had the desired result. Mrs. John Craig, of 112 West One Hundredth street, the aunt of Mrs. Carlson, called Mr. Wiessner by telephone and informed him that Arthur and Mrs. Carlson were living in a small flat in her building, which Mrs. Carlson had rented the day she disap peared from Brooklyn. Mr. Wiessner hurried to Manhattan and found Arthur havng a fine time in his new home. He had learned to call Mrs. Carlson mother and while his new home was not as fine as the old, he was enjoying It just as much. Despite) the tears of Mrs. Carlson, who told of her love for the child, Mr. Wiessner took Arthur home and informed the police. He said he had no desire to prosecute her. PAPERS SAY LONDON RUINS Americans Surprised to Find Kc ports in Germany Not True. LONDON, Sept. 25. Three surprised Americans drifted Into London recently from Berlin, who bad been residents in the capital -for. over a year. According to the German newspapers Leeds had been destroyed, Edinburgh burned out and London was in ruins. "Well." said one, "if the Germans crould enly be told the truth, there'd be some riots." Any Book reviewed on this page can be t ootid at your Book store. The J. K. GILL CO. Third and Alder.