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