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About The Madras pioneer. (Madras, Crook County, Or.) 1904-current | View Entire Issue (Nov. 26, 1908)
ire HPhe I hited Cepulcl X The VV Tale of O Pelee By Will Levington Comfort Copyright. 1934, br Witt Lerlnrton Comfort Copyriiht, 1907, br J. II. LirriNCorT Compact. Alt rights reserved J CIIAPTEK XVI. (Continued.) How many times the blue eyes of old Ernst rolled bnck under the. lids, and bis crip relaxed upon the oars, only to be re called by the pleading voice and the face of tragedy before him; how many times the whipping tongue of Macready muni' bled, forgetting its object, while his senses reeled against the burning walls of his brain ; how many times the splendid spirit of the woman recalled her own lowlier faculties to action and the terrible mean ing of the quest only God and these knew. But the little boat held its prow to the desolate shore. They gained the Sugar Landing at last, and strange sounds camo from the lips of Ernst, as he pointed to the hulk of the launch, burned to the water line.. Gray- covered heaps were sprawled upon the shore, some half-covered by the incoming tide, some entirely awash. Pelee had brought down the city; nnd the fire-tiger had rushed in at the kill. He was hissing and crunching still, under the ruins. The voman moaned and covered her face. "There is nothing alive !" she said with dreadful stress. "What else could you luk fur?" Mac ready demanded. "Walt till wo get over th' hill, and you'll hear th' burrds sing- in' the naygurs laughin' in the fields an' wonderin' why the milkman don't come "I can liyc yes, I can live until I see our house crushed to the hill, all coated with paste, and those heaps lying about on the ground ! 'A woman can't be a friend like a man' I You will stand and uncover your heads when you see your friend lying upon the ground and 1 I will die !" She was walking between them, up to ward the market place, fighting back her terrors, which added to the burdens of the men. The opened space was filled with the stones from the houses, hurled there as from a dice bos. Smoke and steam oozed forth from every ruin. The silence was awful as the sight of death. Rue Victor Hugo was effaced, the way up to ward the morne undiscernible. A breath ing pile of debris barred every way. It was plain that they must make their way southward along the shore. "If I cud on'y get holt o' that barna- cle av a shark's toot,' Pugh if I cud on'y get him here wance bare-futted," Denny gasped "sure I'd lie happy holdin av him ! Ha ! don't sthep there !" He pulled her away from a puddle of uncongealed stuff as hot as running iron. Once he had stepped upon what seemed to be an ash-covered stone. It was soft, springy, and vented a wheezy sigh. Rain and rock-dust had smeared all things alike in this gray, roasting shambles. "Speak won't you please speak?" the woman cried suddenly. "It luks like rain, ma'am," Macready's quick tongue offered. They were on the shore, nearing the rise of th Morne d'Orange. Saint Pierre had rushed to the sea at the lost. The mountain had found the women with the children, as all manner of visitations find them and the men a little apart. There was nothing to do by the way, no lips to moisten, no voice of pain to hush, no dying thing to ease. Pelee had not fal tered at the last. There was not an in sect murmur in the air. nor a crawling thing beneath, not a moving wing in the hot gray sky. They traversed a shore of death absolute these three and the voman was thinking ahead. From the shoulder of the morne Lara turned back one look. Saint Pierre was like a mouth that had lost its pearls. The land ahead was a husk divested of its fruit. Pelee had cut the cane fields, suck ed the juices, and left the blasted stalks In his paste. The plantation house push ed forth no shadow of an outline. It might be felled, or lost in the smoky distance. The nearer landmarks were gone homes that had brightened the morne in their day, whose windows had flashed the rays of the afternoon sun as it rode down over uea levelled like the fields of cane. There was no balm, no saving grace. Pelee had swept far and left only his shroud, and the heaps upon the way, to show that the old sea-road, so white, so beautiful, had been the haunt of man. The mangoes had lost their vesture; the palms were gnarled and naked fingers pointing to the pitiless sky. She had known this highway in the mornings, when joy was not dead, when the songs of the tollers and the laughter of children glorified the fields; in the white moonlight, when the sweet draughts from the sea met and mingled with the spice from torrid hills, and scent of jas mine and rose gardens. The dark eyes under the huge helmet were staring ahead ; her lips were parted and white. Though they had passed the ra dius of terrific heat, she seemed slowly to be suffocating. Macready remembered his voice. "Things are queer by the sea, ma'am. Now, if I'd ha' tuk Pugh be th' t'roat I'd be intertainin' Mr. Constable presently in the bottom av th' ship, togged out head an' fut in irons fur th' occasion, an' he'd say, 'Dlnny, why didn't you sthand be th' lady whin I tould you? Perhaps you can stand be th' bunkers bctther, me son. Go to thim, ye goat J' Ernst, lad, you're intertainin', you're loquenchus." The woman was stepping forward swiftly between them. Words died upon Macready's tongue when he saw her face and thought of what she would fiud ahead. He believed that she would keep her word that she would break, brain and body If tho mountain had shown no mercy at their journey's end. And Mucready did not hope. The man to whom he had tied his own life would be down like the others, and the great house about him I All that a soft Irish heart could feel of terror and boreave inent had waged in his breast for hours. To let the woman succumb among her dead was more than he could bear. The ruins of the plantation house wav ered forth from tho fog, Tho prayer bad not availed ; the day still lived, A swoon had not fallen pitifully upon the woman. He was allowing her to walk forward to her end, this beautiful creature whoso courage was more than n man's I Her fingers were upon his sleeve, pulling him forward. Sho had no need of words from him now. Life remained in her to reacli the place ahead. She did not want more life, if tho dead were there. "Wait, ma'aml" ho pleaded. "N'o, nol I cannot wait I" "Fur ould Dlnnyl" "I thank you both. You have been very brave and kind; but, Denny, don't keep mo back not now 1 "Let mo go flrshtl" ho implored, har boring the mad idea that he might put something out of her sight. "Xo!" she screamed, breaking from him, and rushing forward through the fallen gate. Her cry brought an answer a muffled answer, the voice, from a pit. Macready and Ernst plucked at the charred boards In tho circle of ruin. "Peter, King Peter! Where are you, Great-heart?" she called, laughing, cry ing, picking at her hands. "In the cistern in tho old cistern,' came tho answer. "Why did they let you come here?" "Didn't I tell you 'twud take more than a sphit av a mountain t' singe hair av him, ma'am?" Macready yelled, dancing about the rim. "Are you hurted, sorr? i'ell me, are you hurted? He was pushed away, and the woman knelt at the rim, bending far down. CHAPTER XVII. Constable rested and reflected in the cistern. It did not occur to him, save in the most flimsy and passing way, to doubt tho efficacy of the distance in the case of Lara. She was safe, eight miles at sea, and watched over by Macready, whom he uad learned thoroughly to trust. Here was gladness immovable. Second, for the present and to all intents, his own life had been spared. This was not so impor tant in itself, but was exceedingly vital in consideration of the third point that she loved him, and had said so. His first worry was that Lara might be thinking him dead. The aspect of Constable's mind being touched upon, it may be well to outline the state of affairs as a third party would see it. In the first place, there was a woman in his anus, a woman whom the fire bad touched and in whom con sciousness was not ; the mother of the world's matehlesB girl. Then he was sit ting upon a slimy stone In a subterranean cell, the floor of which was covered with six inches of almost scalding water, and the vault filled with steam. The volcanic discharge, 'showering down through the mouth of the pit, had heated the water and released the vapor. An earthquake years before had loosened the stone wall of the cavern, and with every shudder of the earth, under the wrath of Pelee, the masonry lining the cistern tottered. Then, his hand had been torn during the descent of the chain, and the terrific heat in the well livened his burns to exquisite pain fulness. But, as has been stated, these were mere cuticle disorders, and the heart of the man sang again and again its tune ful story. Pelee was giving vent to the after pangs. Torrents of rain were descend ing. The man in the cistern had lout track of time. Though replenished with rain, the water was still too hot to step in ; therefore, he could not change his position and relieve the tension of his arms. Still, he felt that he owed an as tonishing debt to the old cistern. Xo sud den impulse had brought him there. Since he had discovered the place in his night's vigil, and examined it more closely the following day, the idea had become fixed in his mind that it might be used at the last minute. The women sighed now and stirred in his arms. The first gripping realization took his mind. He waited in embarrass ment for her to speak. Would the fact that he bad saved her life stand as ex tenuation for his rough treatment? Con stable was by no means sure that he was not about to hear her estimate of him on the old footing, with the rage of a manhandled woman added the whole a finished document delivered with Mrs. Stansbury's art and force. But she did not yet awake. His brain worked rapidly now. She had lain upon his shoulder during the de scent. Livid dust Had taiien througn the orifice. His burns were slight. His eyes strained into her face, but the cistern was dark, dark. The fire had touched her hair he knew that. Her bare arm brushed his cheek, and his whole being crawled with fear It seemed that hours elapsed. Where had Uncle Joey been at the last? Did Pelee tolerate any favorites? Breen, Soronia, Pere Itabeaut, Mondet, the ships in the inner harbor, tho thirty thousand of Saint Pierre were they all wrecked in the mills of the world? But the Madame was eight miles at sea ! Pelee had waited for the woman. His heart of hearts held this joy. The breath of life was returning to his burden. She sighed once more, and then, full pityingly, he folt her wince with the pain which consciousness brought. "What Is this dripping darkness?" be heard at last. The words wero slowly uttered, and the tones vague. In a great dark room somewhere, in a past life, perhaps, Constable had heard such a voice from some one lying In the shad ows. "We are in the old cistern you and I, Peter Constable." His tones became glad as he added, "But your daughter is safe at sea 1" "Did you forget something, or did Lara send you for her parasol?" "I came for you came to tell you how much we needed you how much we fear ed for your life, and to ask you once more " "What an extraordinary - youth J" she murmured. "Was there ever euch darkness as this ?" The cavern was dark, but not utterly black now. Tho clrclo of tho orifice was sharply lit with gray. "They will come from tho ship to res cue us soon. Please plcaso turn your face to tho light so ! le-j, that will dot" "Did you not know that I am blind boy? How big you seem! I should think you would put mo down nnd rest your arms" Her faco had been turned upward the descent of tho clmln 1 Ho steeled him self to speak steadily. There was cumulative harshness in that her face, above all others, so fragile, of purest line. should meet tho coarse element, burning dirt. Furies leaped upon him that he had not saved her. "The water is still hot in the bottom oi the cistern,' ho said. "My arms are not in the least tired." An internilnablo Interval passed before bo heard tho voice again, slower, fainter "And no you camo back for mo and you knew Pelee better! Xo, the burns do not hurt terribly. My face fools dead. You were not burned so? This was the moment of dreadful mem ory. Her body, her face, arms, throat, had covored him. as the rusty chain sup nod through his hand. Tho molten stuff had not cracked his flesh because she had stood between. "L tried to save you you know that but you kent the fire from me I Ills voice was broken with rebellion. Then out of a sigh came the words that lived with him always: "I would have -you know that la Montagne Pelee is artistic I" (To be continued.) SHARPENING A PENCIL. In Thin Act You Mnr Itend n Mun'a Cbnracter. No woman should marry a runn till alio has seen him sharpen n lend pen ell. She can tell by tho way he doe It whether ho is suited to her or not. Hero nro n few infallible rules for her guidance lu the matter: The mnn who holds the point to ward him nnd close up against his shirt front Is slow nnd likes to have secrets. Re Is tho kind of man who, when the dearest girl In tho world finds out that there are "others" nnd asks him who they nre nnd what ho menns by calling on them, will assume an air of excessive dignity. The mnn who holds the pencil out at arm's length and whittles nwny at it. hit or miss, is impulsive, Jolly, good-natured and generous. He who leaves a blunt point is dull and plodding, nnd will never amount to much. Ho is really good natured, but finds his chief pleasures In tho commonplace things of life. He who Bhnrpens his pencil an Inch or more from the point Is high strung nnd Imaginative and subject to exu berant nights of fancy. He will nl ways be seeking to mount upward and accomplish things In the higher re gions of business nnd art, and his wife's greatest trouble will be to hold him down to earth nnd prevent his flying off altogether on n tangent The man who sharpens his pencil all around smoothly and evenly, as though it was planed off In an auto mntlc sharpener, is systematic nnd slow to anger, but he is so undevlating from a fixed principle that he would drive a woman with a sensitive teni perament to distraction In less than six months. On the contrary, he who Jumps in and leaves the sharpened wood as Jagged as saw teeth around the top has a nasty temper and will spank the baby on tho slightest provocation. The man who doesn't stop to polish the point of lead once the wood Is cut nwny has a streak of coarseness In his nature. He who shaves off the lead till the point is like a needle is refined, deli cate nnd sensitive. Ho will not bo likely to accomplish so much as his more common brother, but ho will never shock you, nnd Is without doubt a good man to tie to. New York Press. BUSSIAN RAILROAD STORY, How u Student Thought to Hellevc the Tedium of Travel. The tedium of railroad traveling In Itusslu was relieved tho other day In an unexpected manner, suys the Lotv don Globe. In n compartment of the train going from Kursk to Kiev sat a beautiful young lady next to n ' batty priest, with whom sho held an animated conversation. Opposite sat a student who envied the priest the causerie h- was enjoying. As tho evening camo on the girl fell asleep nnd the priest nodded his head in slumber. That was an opportunity which no self-respecting Joker could afford to let slip. Bending forward tho student kissed the sleeping damsel and sprang bnck into his scat. Tho salute awakened tho girl, who, thinking that It was her neighbor, the priest, who had dared to kiss her, Jumped up and gave hi in a sounding box on tho ears. The student rejoiced greatly. There was a commotion, the policeman accompanying tho train wai summoned, nnd ho at once drew up a "protocol" against the wronged priest, while the student offered to appear ai a witness In the lnw court at Klov, But at tho last moment n young Jew- ess who had been sitting In a dark corner, unobserved by anybody stepped forward, exonerated the poor priest from tho terrlblo accusation, nnd then it was tho student's turn to feel miser able. To He ISxuct. "Gee whiz! Here's tho rnln coming down again and somebody's stolen my umbrelln." "Somebody's, stolen what?" "Well, tho umbrella I've been carry ing for tho last two weeks." Phlla delphla Press, A self chalking chalk lino Is thr latest addition to the carpenter'! kit COMXNO HOME. Ttie wfio'e farm sort of spreads Itself tn one tremendous grin, Tho old house somehow looks at bright at If 'twas new hkIh ; , And Towaer'a tarkln' round the place at frisky na a pup, , . , . . And Dorter h to work to keep his heoli from klckln' up ! Hven the old red cow has got some ginger In her "Moo," , And Mother's stngln' at her work the way ho used to tlo ; My hend'a as light ns when It had more thntch up on tho dome . And why? Why, It's Thnnkajilvln' Day; the cmmrcirs coram- uomt. They're comln' home I They're comln' home 1 To make tho old place like It was afore tliey went away; And Dan'll leave hla Honton atore nnd Ned 11 lcavo his stocks, , And John'll atop n-drnwln' plana for bullnln city blocks, , . And Mary'll leave her New York house, with nil Its high-toned stuff, And come down hero nnd any It's Home and plenty good enough, And there'll ho boya nnd glrla around Jeat like tnero used 10 do To make It renl Thanksglvln' Day for Moth er nnd for me. Thanksglvln' Day I Poke up the fires nnd mako the ovens hum; The turkeya, roaatln' In the pans, are sput- t'rin' "nave tney comer . , . The puddln's knockln' nt the lid nnd bub- biin' "Are tney nerei The mince ple wave their flags of ateam ; the kettle leada n cheer. The rheiimatlx la all forgot; dyapepay a out of,,SDt! . . . I'm goln' to eat from soup to nuts, ana nance a reel io-nigni ; And "blind man's buff" la Jest my sUe, nnd "star conch" suits me prime The children's comln' home to-day 1 (lit out, old Father Time I The little feet that we ahall hear trot up and down the stair To us'll teem the very aame thnt used to patter there; . . , , The llttlo folka n-runnln' 'round nnd lnffln tn their ploy , Won't seem Dan's loy and Mary's girl, but simply Dnn nnd May. And we'll forglt that winter's come with all Its wiow nnd cold. Forglt tho next week's lonesomeness, forglt we're glttln' old, And Jest be young aa when our heads wrn'f nltr-h nn whltl nn foam Thank Ood for HI Thankaglvln' Day I The children a comln home! Josenh C. Lincoln, In the Saturday Kvcn lng Post. BAD ACOIDErr TO MR, T, GOBBLER, Bit. A Martyr for Principle. Dy Emily Huntington Millar. n nu mendine hie hnrncss In the lm- oaculnte kitchen, a piece of burlap over the knees of his second-best pantaloons, and another under hla feet to catch any possible litter. His wife sat by the win dow, re-enforcing hla yarn mittens with a stout woollen patch. Sho pushed up ber spectacles, dropped her bands in her lap, and was staring at him in amaze ment as she said: Ain't going to Mary Ellen's to Thanks- jiving! For the land's sake, father, you must be crazy 1 "I get sense enough to know my own mind, 'tennyrate. I told David if I heerd of him 'lectlonecring for 'Rastus Dorraneo for s'lectinan, I wouldn t go nigh his house, and I cal'late to do as I laid. You might as well save your breath to cool your porridge. I ah'd s'pose you knew by this time 1 ain't one to bo argy Oed out of my 'pinions." He went on punching holes in the bit Df leather, every feature of his old faco radiating that mild obstinacy so much 3i ore hopeless than vigorous resolve. He did not expect a reply. For fifty yenri bis wife had accepted hi decisions with Diit controversy, and he was surprised that she should have offered the gentlest plea against hie ultimatum. But thero was heroic firmness in ber soul, In spite f the quaver In ber voice as she said, auletly : "Then, Nathaniel, I must say It don't 'pear to me Just nor Christian, punishing ther folks because you couldn't have your own way. Mary hllen'U cry herself sick. The very first Thanksgiving in the new house I" "I ain't punishing anybody, unless It's myself, and I can t help what Mary Ellen does." "And Joey he's been lotting on it for month, lie sets the world and nil bv bis gran pa. 'And I set by Joey; you know I do. but I shan t go back on my word. That old skeezlcks ain't no more fit for s'leetmnn han a cat. Shows mighty poor Judgment, Mr. T. Gobbler, Jr. I wouder wiiero papa Int Ho hiiHn't been homTr L?..t.,.wt tlwif tsi KVfftllll Wll V ( ITllVfttl't VrtM 111. It I . "Was tho accident serious?" "Oh, qulto serious, I nsHiiro you. Mo lind his head cut off, tvm boiled u nil. ilrnwn niwl nunrtnrod. cut into strlns nnd ealcii mi" "Why, that's too bad. When did tlicso sad events occur?" "They all took placo yesterday. Would you like to seo where be'iu. V lit IU "Oh, yes, Indeed. Let us go nnd pay our Inst respects, is it farr "Xo, tho cemetery Is quite near. Come, let us stroll over that wty- THE TWO SKT OUT TOOETIIKB. ny oplulon, settin' a man up to run tho eestric that can't manaco his own IimmI. aess without being sold up by the sheriff. i must say, rra disjointed In David. I rive him credit for more sense." "But now it's done, your stavlnir n from Thanksgiving ain't going to help natters, as I see." "Well, if women ain't the beatnm tnr reasoning. I s'pose now you can't It's a matter of principle," "No, 1 can't, Nathaniel," said his wife, lellberately putting away her work. r hain't any call to have principles about the s'lectmcn, but I've got a sight of principles ng'lnst making other folks mis erable when there's no need, and I feel called to go to Mary Ellen's to dinner, l'here's pie In the but'ry, and doughnuts tnd cheese, and some of that cold spare rib. I guest you can make out for once," The old man got up stiffly, and slowly itralghtened his back. "Oh, don't trouble about me. mi tin," he said, sarcastically j "I t can pick up a dinner good as I deserve. I never did lay much stress on showin' your thankfulness by gorgln'," Rather to her surprise her husband xooaipaaled her, as usual, to the meeting house, nnd sat through tho service with Joey's little tow head snuggled under hla arm. But after rather ostentatiously helping her Into David's buggy he trudg ed nwny. deaf to Mary Ellen's pica nnd Joey's Imperative "Grampnw ! I want my grampnw 1" "Hush, Joey," snld his mother, "gran"- pa III come presently. iow, moiner, don't you fret. I know father, nnd he ain't going to stick it out thero nlono Just because he's mnd nt 1nvld. He'll give up' If be thinks nobody enrcs." The conviction of being n martyr for principle fa very sustaining to human na ture, but the effect la wonderfully helped by nn nudlcnce. Mr, Nathaniel Martin applauded himself vigorously na ho turn ed the key In hla door, brightened up the fire, discarded hla uncomfortable collar, and settled snugly Into the fenther-cuah- ioned chair. How still the house was, and how loud the clock ticked, and what a lonesome noise the teakettle made! He had fallen asleep In hla chair, nnd started up. bewildered at the sound of soft, muffled blowa upon the door. Small mlttcned flats were beating upon It, and Joey's shrill voice demanded: "Grampnw, I want my grnmpawr He opened the door and caught the child In his arms, saying, ezultlngly: "Gran'pa'a boy I Joey's come to din ner with gran'pa." "No, me ain't," said Joey, wriggling to the floor; "mo rather have dinner to ! my house. We dot turkey, an' plum pud- din' an' candy, an nuts, and lots of flngs. An' mommy anld bring grampnw. Put on your hat, grampnw." "Gran'pa don't want any dinner; gran' pa don't feel " He got no further, tor the child burst Into bowls of grief. "I want mine dinner 1 Joey wants to go home," he walled. "There, there, Joey," coaxed hla grand father; "gran'pa'll pop ye some corn; gran'pa'll fetch ye aome sweet apples; Joey shall take gran'pa'a watch." But hla blandishment not only failed to soothe, but seemed actually to Irritate the child to the unhenrd-of extent of de claring he was a naughty "krampaw," and Joey didn't love him '"tall." After which outburst he returned to his tnonot onous lament for home and dinner, until In deaperntion hli grandfather yielded to his demand. "Well, then, come on," he anld, trying to be severe; "yer na act In yer way as " ho waited an instant to pull up his coat collar, and added, with a chuckle, "aa I bo." The two set out together, and from the minute the gate clashed behind them a comfortable serenity began to settle over tho grandfather. With Jocy'a hand fast In his, and tho fat little legs In their scarlet casings, trying to keep step with hla own, with Hannah and Mary Ellen and n Thanks giving dinner In prospect, It seemed very small matter that hla ancient enemy had been chosen selectman, "Grampaw's good now; grampow's all plpaaant," said Joey approvingly. "Yes, gran'pa'a good now," assented tho old gentleman, with a passing reflec tion on tho proverbial honesty of children and fools. If thero was a ahndo of rcaervatlon In his repentance, It vanished when Mary Ellen ran to meet him with open arms, and pronounced him a precious old darl ing between vigorous kisses ; when h'e saw Hannah's peaceful faco Just Inaldo the door; when David seized both hla hands, declaring It wouldn't have been Thanks giving without father, and Joey tangled himself about his legs, screaming like a little cock sparrow: "I fetched grampnw !" The ghost of tho obnoxious politician faded into nothlngneaa, and through love and laughter nnd genial greeting the ob- scuro text seemed singing Itself to one of tne ma remembered mlodles: "Th fruit of rlghtcousncas Is sown In penco Of them that mnkn nnn.vHiii mnke peace that make pcaco I" Christian Advocato. Tlmnkaulvliitf Pnnliloii JVotea. The subject of dressl HIT 1 tint nnur much discussed, Popular tnsto for the Thnnkafflvlnir n. on Inclines toward sago effects, some- vnui Biuiicii in mo wnist. A correct cut at the nresent Hm pends upon tho material, whether light or dark, but a little of both, hore and tbore, unit wmoinauon at Uili tlmo of the year, Conventional Ideas popular, The wing is not io much favored j but,, " "? ner hand, the whole bird li fo, qucntly seen. w After dinner toilets are worn wlu, Inn holt V. v.i. m. " ,K ' -v.,, ..- jiurn limes. A Query, Thnnkiglvlng am a Joyous dir Throughout dls mljbtr nation, Hut on one point nlaut It I Would Ink some Infobinstlon. Wh hr is It dat always, when We ahould feel inns' fnrtnttirA W hanker foh de ;lc ob toti Home other nlsgah capture? The Aftrrmnth, Mrs. Ferguson called btr bosUsj nt to the dining room. "George," she demanded, "th tn 3 those strangers you hare broujbt ktn u dinner?" "Tho boys down nt the offiM," be a& f'.l lit.- . - I. . 1 . 1 L I .1 ... fonnnnce means I" It mitfltiit Iviilr H ntrm1 iff. Ffr gtiHon, with a look of cast Iron di initiation on his face, "(bit then tat going to be any of it left towmc?" every meal for the next six daya not till year, by Jucks I" m ii - - stu air, .lucKcr inner un ivuiy; been nerved) Tommy, what prt r you have 7 T'll t a If a th rirumiticL U nM mi I nl to maw, Isn't this where jou pmr v leg or glvo mo a kick under the mm "Isn't It nice," said one of til fl "to have a family reunion like til w In a year?" "Ye," responded I'nele Allen Spi'H sawing nwny energetically with M a? Ing knife, "but when they come H J one at a time, yon can bardlj cslj"' reunion. This one cei to b4 Ike iw of tho one wo bad year before Uit . t.i aha tri hla mo urnnuiawiur ui tuv - - year' vi.it.-ii. rii,t..,lA ITnft 1 ..r .u Wot al urrara inn nifi'i " ...,A,h'f Hnvmold Storey-I ilrempt "' ' . . . . . .lAfi l Fill b feed the Salvation army iv ylstlddny wux all a Arem "What acorns to oe i "Intol li niimiia - niKm inn mv . tr. ""7 - . hufnri Ifti l.lu hnm a nt tiio rnuimvi j.iiutn , - -- - tiiiin ' . . . .1.- rAififlii saw" - n vil.l T raiiiplit ai Hie iv ... . . ..Minn injii v-- . r a . t pi i i n i v luibH - H B rHJIJIUklllMK - ' - agreed with me." i. T.nni.1-Lee OnUCSO "'' .tin, w - . nn oninvnuw lime j ".' . .. ! were scared out of our w . ITldo nearly choked to death on ft , Then pet, jtr