WITH 26 LETTERS
By JANE OSBORN.
"May I Bit In your nice patch of
hade, Mr. Farmer?" The girl, pink
dad, delightfully tanned and laden
with magazine and fluttering papers,
had already spread herself under the
shade of the lone apple tree that was
allowed to grow unmolested In the
middle of the newly-mown hayfleld.
"It's not my troe and It's not my
shade," the man In overalls drawled,
with the unwillingness to answer a
question directly that was character
istlo of that section of the country.
"But if it were mine I'd give you a
deed for life on that particular spot
of shade. You see, Mr. Owens owns
the farm. I'm Just"
"Of course, Mr. Owens doesn't ob
ject," the girl laughed, gathering a
neat collection of stones from the
ground whore she was sitting. "You
are Mr. Owen's now help, aren't you?
And your name is Tom Fenn," said
the girl pleasantly, opening a port
folio that was part of her equipment.
"Yes, and you're Miss Botty Brown
and you are visiting your aunt at the
next farm. I heard the Owens folks
talking about you this morning. But
may I ask what you are going to do
with those stones?"
"Certainly," the girl smiled, "and
I'll tell you. I am about to begin my
moraine's Writing out here under this
tree and I want the stones to keep
down the papers. The chlei trouble
with writing outdoors Is that the pa
pers blow about, but I simply can't
get my thoughts to work in one of
those stuffy farmhouse rooms. I can't
even read in there."
. The farmer had dropped the bucket
that he was carrying and had stooped
to pick up the book that lay at the
girl's feet.
"You wouldn't care much for that,"
she explained. "I don't imagine
RIdgeway Norrls Is read much in this
part of the country. In fact, I
couldn't undorstand him myself at
first. But he Is all the rage with real
writers. I try to read a little before
I start to write. He Is so stimulating."
"What did you say his name was?"
The farmer had dropped the book and
stood looking eagerly at the girl. "No,
I guess we don't go in for anything
like that up here. He's what you'd
call a highbrow, isn't he?"
"Oh, decidedly," smiled the girl, be
ginning the morning's operations by
putting long, tr.pering points on the
collection of pencils she had brought
with her.
"The OwenB folks didn't say that
you were a writer."
The girl laughed. "They don't know
it. I never sold anything that is, any
thing to brag about and I don't talk
much of my ambitions. But I'm crazy
about it." The girl pressed the book
by RIdgeway Norrls to hor and gave
a delightful little laugh of happiness.
"Just think of what a wonderful thing
It is! Just think what a man like Nor
ris can do with JuBt those tweuty-six
little letters of the alphabet makes
you laugh or cry, fills you with dread,
suspicion, Joy or remorse to suit his
whim, and all with those funny little
twenty-six letters."
" 'Tls queer," said the farmer modi
tatlvely. "I never thought of writing
that way before. I have sometimes
thought" he was cautious in the sug
gestion "that I might do a little writ
ing myself. There is one story I could
tell that I think would make folks sit
up and take notice. It I only had some
one to help me. Say," he added with
a smile that fascinated Betty, "may
be you'd holp me? You are a begin
ner, too. Well, suppose we begin to
gether. I can't get much time oil,
but I'll ask Mr. Owens about giving
me two or three hourB every morning.
Work Is a little slack anyway. I guess
he'll let me."
Betty knit her brows ever so
slightly and then something in the
keen young face of the farmer reas
sured her. "I am sure I should en
Joy It," she said. "Even if we don't
get very far, it will at least give me
a new point of view."
The next morning at the appointed
hour Betty found her farmer collabor
ator seated under the tree in the
shade. He was neatly putting points
on the assortment of pencils that he
explained they let him have cheap at
the general store.
"You see," he told Betty, as she
spread her cushion down on the grass
and arranged the folds of her dulnty
frock about hor. "I have got the
stones collected." He pointed to a pile
of the most symmetrical stones he had
been able to gathor in the field. "So
far, I think I am learning well. Now.
what is the next thing to do? Have
you got that highbrow book that you
were telling me about?"
Betty explained that she had de
cided RIdgeway Norrls ought to be
left at home. "We must forget that
anyone ever wrote r story before we
did. We must fill our minds so full of
the characters and the plot we are
writing about that we'll Just have to
tell our story well. If we sell it we
are to go fifty-fifty, aren't we? Now
you tell me that plot of yours."
The farmer man was reticent He
told Betty that it was the first time
In this life that he had ever spoken
to anyone of the strange storleu that
came luto his thoughts. And as he
told it a story weird in Its com
bination of commonplace events of r.
country neighborhood and tenso emo
tional situations, simple In .h actual
events It related and in the characters
it handled, yet making a whole that
was tensely dramatic Betty forgot
about the apple tree and the meadow.
She even forgot that she was Petty,
pink clad and pretty, and that she
was listening to the faltering voice
of a poor country laborer.
"If we can only get It into the
story as you have told It to me I" she
exclaimed, when the man had finished.
"But tbat'B where the art comes in.
That 1b where experience and training
count. If a man like Norrls could
only handle it."
A shadow of disappointment came
over the young man's face. "I thought
you were going to forget those high
brows. I thought you and I were go
ing to do something original, going
to beat them at their own game. Now
here goes. I don't know how to be
gin stories or bow to end them like
those regular writers, so don't lot's
have a beginning. Just let's start right
In at the places -where you begin to
catch your breath and wonder what's
going to happen next. Here, I've got
It" The young man's eyes flashed
with excitement. His manner of dif
fidence and reticence bad vanished.
"Oct the paper and write what I tell
you. We can do the polishing later,
You can show me how to do that."
Every morning Betty Brown and her
farmer sat under the apple tree. Some
days the farmer would be all anima
tion, all ideas, as he had been the day
they began, Other days he would be
dull and discouraged. He would be
In a murderous frame of mind, when
he wished to go back over the fabric
of the story and weed out the charac
ters he had created. Then Betty
would be at her best. Then she would
take the thread of the story where
the man had left off, adding touches
here and there and bringing order and
plausibility out of the chaos In which
the man bad left the tale.
It ras small wonder that Betty and
the farmer man, sitting day after day
1c the shade of the solitary apple
tree, working together over the thing
In all the world that Interested them
most, dreaming and planning together,
and groping away to bring to a real
ization their dearest dream It was
small wonder that Betty, who was
very pretty in spite of the fact that
she wore pince-nez and had ambitions,
and Tom Fenn, who in spite of his
overalls and his swarthy skin pos
sessed a pair of frank brown eyes
and a deal of rugged charm, should
have got to the point where the dear
est treasure in life seemed to be the
enjoyment of each other's society.
"But how shall we manage," Betty
asked one day after the usual pre
liminaries always more or less the
same and yet always a little different
from anything else since the world
began "how shall we manage? I'd
share your life with you anywhere,
Tom, but I would be too much of a
burden at present. If you had a lit
tle farm of your own it might be dif
ferent." '
"We can buy a farm with the money
we get from the story."
Betty explained how hopeless it was
to expect a sale from their first story
or to expect, even if it were sold,
enough to make a first payment on a
farm. Tom's optimism would permit
no doubting. And so It was agreed
that if the story were sold, even at a
very low figure, Betty would consent
to wed the farmer man and trust to
good fortune for the rest.
So the story was finished and Betty
typed it on her little portable machine
at the farmhouse and, handing the
precious manuscript to Tom to carry
to the post office, she resigned her lot
to the decision of the publisher's read
ers. And Betty knew by experience
that when publishers return manu
script they are not very prompt.
But within ten days Tom flourished
an envelope from the publishers glee
fully before Betty's face as they sat at
the old trystlng place under the apple
tree.
"You see, I had the audacity to open
the manuscript before I posted it and
slip in a little note for myself. That's
why they sent It to me instead of to
you." But Betty was reading:
"In our opinion, it is quite the' best
thing you have done. You have got
more of the real smack of the soil,
more of real flesh and blood, into this
than ever before. It Is Just what was
needed to make your stories as suc
cessful with the average reader as
they already are with the critical.
Please accept our humble congratula
tions." Then, as Betty's eyes dropped to the
lower left-hand side of the page, she
read the name that told the story
"Mr. RIdgeway Norrls."
"They are right, too, dead right," the
man in farmer's garb was saying.
"What you said about my other Btuff
being hard to understand was right.
That's why I left the crowd and got
Into these Jeans and followed the
plow. But that wouldn't have helped
at all, dearest little collaborator In all
the world. What I wanted was a real
flesh-and-blood woman to show me the
way. And we'll sign the book Betty
and Ridgeway Norris."
(Copyright, 1915. by McClure Newspapei
Syndicate.)
His Observation.
Timee Do you believe that bleach
ing the hair will drive a person in
sane? Parker Sure thing. I know two
follows who are crazy over a bleached
blonde.
Shutter on His "Windows."
Omar I hear Bicklns and Blutfom
had a scrap yesterday.
Heiny Yes, that's right. I saw
Bluffem this morning.
Omar How did he look?
Heiny Huh! He couldn't look.
Not In Harmony.
"Why Is it we can't sing that round
harmoniously?"
"I guess it' because you're accom
panying the round on a square
piano.''
hroiistasifBatt!
for jteedomSP1
-::;::j';;S
MONTENEGRIN YtLLAOL
MONTENEGRO is one of the
smallest members of the
family of nations, and free
dom has made her sturdiest
stands among its dreamy
:rags and unproductive rock-strewn,
gravel slopes. Now, true to tradi
tions of centuries of incessant war
ring, she has Joined In the world war,
with eagerness to expand In the to
bacco and grazing lands of Herze
govina. A picture of the strongly
Individual characteristics of -this na
tion, nurtured and contained upon a
mountain, whose entrance into the
war scales caused hardly a tremor of
the balance, has been prepared for the
National Geographic society by George
Hlgglns Moses, United States minister
to Greece and Montenegro during 1909
1912. Surveying the history of the
miniature country, against which pow
erful Islamic waves broke in vain for
:enturies, the writer says:
"For BOO years they have main
tained freedom, which 'of old has sat
upon the heights;' and, with sufferings
Indescribable, with courage illimit
able, won from the great English
ipostle of Balkan freedom those words
of undying praise, In which he gave it
as his 'deliberate opinion' that 'the
traditions of Montenegro exceed In
glory those of Marathon and Ther
mopylae and all the war traditions of
the world.'" Everywhere within the
little kingdom, the writer says, one
can see memorials of the grim, un
broken struggle of Montenegro's peo
ple against the power of the Turk, a
struggle in which the Turk, master
through the Balkans, battered against
the mountain heights to no avail.
Montenegro has little to invite ex
cept the majesty of the vista from Its
higher crests, and the little band of
Slavs who fled hither had freedom
more than luxury and ease In mind. At
the creation, so runs a Montenegrin
legend given by Mr. Moses, an angel
was sent forth to gather the superflu
ous stones on the earth's surface.
He placed these stones in a bag which
burst as he was flying over Cerna
gora, and Montenegro's richest dower
Is still the rocks which the angel
spilled upon It.
Webbed With Fine Roads.
The approach to the kingdom, a
winding way up hill, is spoken of by
the writer as a splendid piece of en
gineering, which weaves up the gaunt,
gray cliffs, finally threading a narrow,
easily-defended defile and crossing a
pass mostly swathed in clouds. Mon
tenegro, Mr. Moses continues, is
webbed with fine roads, the expression
)f the present king's restless spirit
'or improvement. The capital itself,
Cetlnje, is hardly more than a knot of
jross-streets in two roads of this sys
.era. There are no pretentious build
'ngs In the city, only two being of
more than two stories in height, the
Russian and Austrian legations. The
ixternal life of the capital is simple
in the extreme.
Montenegrins, declares the writer,
ire mostly of greater than average
itature, and the men have come to feel
-.heir principal calling to be that of
war. The women of Montenegro are
.ts economic producers, and, to quote
King Nicholas, who has married his
lelightful daughters to some of Eu
rope's leading houses, the women are
the land's most Important export. The
men, Mr. Jones Bays, are good work
ers when put to It, and whenever a
Montenegrin applying tor a Job Is
asked what he can do, he invariably
answers, "Superintend."
There is little commerce and almost
no manufactures in the kingdom,
whose lands are barely rich enough
to support the needs of the people in
.he most simple manner. Good tobac
;o is raised in the country, and a few
joarse stuffs are woven in Podgorltza.
Nearly everything in use, however, is
Imported, and duties and prices are
rery high.
King Nicholas, a democratic mon
arch, more a patriarch than a king,
Is an astute politician and a capable
administrator. Throughout his long
reign of more than fifty years, he has
accomplished much in the develop
ment of his land. He has Increased
his territory many times; adding two
Adriatic ports to his possessions, and
thoroughly organizing all departments
jf his government
Smallest of Capital.
' Cettnje, the capital of Montenegro,
the smallest of the war capital,
t to the (mall eat capital city la the
world; and, moreover, it is the most
snugly placed of war-zone cities, for it
Is practically only assailable by the
airship and aeroplane. In order to
get into this city, an army would have
to ascend a narrow mountain road be
yond the clouds, and after It got there
would find nothing in particular to do
other than to go sightseeing. There
is nothing around Cettnje to hold
on to. There are plenty of stones,
fresh air and bleak fields. From the
latter fruits are won only by undis
mayed pampering and cajolery.
Cetlnje consists of a main street
and a cross street. On the cross street
is the king's palace. This is a fair
sized, whitewashed Kalian villa, with
an audience room about fifteen feet
square and a red tiled roof. The
main street Is well kept and it is en
closed by two regular lines of white
washed, stone houses, of one and two
stories, many of which have stores
on the ground floor. There is a fao
Type of Montenegrin womw
tory for arms and ammunition in the
village, and a higher school for girls
which was founded more than twenty
years ago by the empress of Russia.
Ivan the Black, forced about the
end of the fourteenth century, to
abandon Jablilak, the former capital
to the north of Lake Scutari, founded
Cetlnje. The Turks have taken the
town several times, the Montenegrins
retreating to the surrounding heights
of barren limestone, from whence
they have kept up their struggle until
the Turks sickened of their dreary,
bootless conquests. Cetlnje is diffi
cult to menace; little there is to harm,
and small reason there can be to un
dertake its capture.
No Collusion for Him.
An English laborer was being tried
with a supposed accomplice foi
poaching, which he stoutly denied
The magistrate retorted that the evi
dence went to show that at least he
was in collusion with the other pris
oner. The laborer here interrupted,
and said he "warn't in Collusion; 11
war in X that he met the othet
man." The court explained the mean
ing of the word "collusion," but It did
not deter the other from proceeding
with his defense. "There war no col
lusion tween us, as that feller al
ways wanted the whole profits, and I
never collude with that sort o' man
if I knows it; and when there's no
chance to git nothtn' I never colludes
Not me!"
Magnesia In Fishes.
Chemical analyses of starfishes, sea
urchins and crlnolds, collected from
all parts of the world, show that the
skeletons of these animals contain
much magnesia. The percentage of
magnesia is highest in those speci
mens that lived in tropical waters
and lowest in forms from the Icy seas
of Greenland and the Antarctic, with
a regular gradation between which
Ten show the local effect of eold
ocean current ujoa W at th sm
bottom.
MEANT YES ALL THE TIME
Kitty Feared Let Answer of th
Previous Evening Might B Taken
Literally by Her Lover.
"I am in too much of a hurry to
write a superscription, or whatever it
is you write at the beginning of a let
ter, and I am going to send this off
at once by a delivery boy; because
It suddenly came to me what a risk
I was running with life so uncertain,
and all. You see, it's like this:
"Last evening, when you told me
you loved me, and I was bo startled
and surprised (and all the time I'd
known more about it than you) and
when you beggod me to marry you,
and I Bald No, I never could, and no,
and no over and over, all evening 0,
dear, how can I explain? Well, it
seemed all right, and all but then
this morning It suddenly came to me
what If you should die or something
before you come over again, and never
know!
"Because, you see, everyone of
those 'no's' was as black as the trey
of clubs, not little white lies at all,
but regular ebony. Because it isn't
'no' at all. It's 'yes,' 0, a great big
'yes'; only I wanted to make you wait,
and make me say It! 0, why are
girls made like that? I don't know
I'm as Ignorant of the machinery in
side of me as I am of the little crawly
wheels In my watch. And I Just did
what my diabolical ancestor grand
mothers did, I suppose, when I said
'no,' and I meant 'yes.' But I was
scary this morning when I got think
ing of what If I never had a chance
at all to change it, and tell you the
truth.
"So I Just took a pencil stub out of
my smallest brother's pocket and a
piece of mother's best stationery and
sat down here on the floor, with my
door locked, to scribble this off to
you. Good-by. And 'yes, yes, yes!'
Kitty." Chicago Tribune.
FIRST TO PERFECT REVOLVER
Colonel Colt Has a Plaoe In History
for His Invention American
Maker of Ordnance.
Col. Samuel Colt has a world-wide
fame as the first man who perfected
a practical revolver. His first impor
tant patent was taken out in 1835, but
he had to face a skeptical public and
army and navy officers refused to
grant permission for an official test of
his weapon. However, the effective
ness of the Colt revolver was shown in
the Seminole war, in 1837. A com
pany was formed to exploit the Inven
tion, but soon failed, as no market
was found. Gen. Zachary Taylor, who
witnessed the work of the revolvor
In the Seminole war, at the outbreak
of the Mexican war persuaded the gov
ernment to order a thousand for the
use of Texas rangers. Stories praising
the American revolver soon began to
come back from Mexico and the "forty-niners"
made It well known. Colt
shortly afterward found a market In
England and orders were placed in
America for the Crimean campaigns.
The revolver of that period, however,
was a clumsy weapon compared to the
types in use today. Gatllng, Maxim,
Remington, Parrott and Dahlgren are
names of other Americans who won
fame as rifle and ordnance makers.
Joke Taken Seriously.
Doctor Huxley, the great English
scientist, who (being a good Judge of
men) both admired and trusted Doc
tor Ward of Oxford, once made a Joke
about Ward having a stake for here
tics In his back garden. That Joke is
probably known more widely, and
taken more seriously, than all the
serious debates of these two great
men.
The same sort of people who can
only remember about Huxley a mira
cle which he regarded as a legend,
can only remember about Ward, a
phrase which he took as a Joke.
Why hearty levities ot this kind
are ever discussed seriously afterward
must be a mystery to any man who
has had any friends; but they are so
discussed about W. G. Ward as about
Doctor Johnson.
Process of Making Blood.
Nature's process of making blood is
Interesting. Briefly, It Is on this wise:
When the stomach and other alimen
tary organs have completed their di
gestive work the blood-forming mate
rial Is absorbed by Innumerable little
mouths, and conducted through a maze
of assimilating glands to a storage
pocket In the regions of the kidneys.
From this receptacle the refined blood
material passes upward through a
long goose-quill-sized tube emptying
into a great vein between the neck
and the heart. The heart receives
this crude, rich blood and pumps It
Into the lungs, where It Is oxygenized
and purified. Then the life-sustaining
stream returns to the heart to be
forced out to the remotest tissues of
the body.
Proper Lighting.
Add immensely to the attractive
ness of your home by diffusing the
lights instead ot focusing them on
one point. Eye strain will be relieved
and shadows and outlines will be soft
ened, especially when amber lights
are used. The new Indirect lighting
fixtures are replacing old-fashioned
ones, making the lighting problem
more artistic and less expensive.
Much the same effect may te pro
duced with less expense by frosted
bulbs and globes. There are various
types of this indirect lighting suitable
for all rooms, from the kitchen to
the parlor, and It is to be recommend
ed m a blessing to the busy eye and
the tesse nerve of today.
FAMED AS REFORMER
WOMAN HAS DONE SPLENDID
WORK IN SAN FRANCI3C0.
I
Twenty Year of Active Labor;
Crowned With Magnificent Result
Systematlo Effort Have En
abled Her to Do Wonder.
In San Francisco's Chinatown Mlss(
Donaldlna Camoron 1b honored with
two unusual names. Amon the Chl-j
nese highbinders she Is known as the,
"Female White Devil," among the
girls of her rescue mission she is1
called the "Little Mother." Miss Cam
eron has been doing rescue workj
among the Chinese ot California for
nearly twenty years, and during thatj
time has rescued 1,500 ghrls ranging;
In age from little tots given away or
sold as slaves by their parents or
natural guardians to grown girls who
had fallen into the clutches ot high
binders. She has gone at midnight into the
farthest corners of the rookeries that
wore the Chinatown of old San Fran
cisco. She has chopped down doors,
crawled on her hands and knees along
secret passages, and in several in
stances rescued at the point of the
pistol the miserable slave girl who
had appealed to her.
In her rescue work Miss Cameron
does not go after the girls who are
content to live such lives, but to'
those who appeal to her or who she'
learns wish to get away from it. She
has taken more than one girl as they
were passing along the streets and
forced the Chinese "owner" to go to
court. On several occasions she has
been followed and threatened by mobs
of Chinese and their friends.
Of Scotch parentage, Miss Cameron
was born In New Zealand. She came
to America as a young girl and for
twenty years has been employed by
the board of foreign missions of the
Presbyterian church for rescue work
among the Chinese ot San Francisco.
Sho Is paid only $50 a month, and in
sists that she thinks It quite enough.
Once she gets a girl she does not1
try to Americanize her or keep her
away from reputable people of her
own nationality. On the contrary, the
girls study Chinese books along with
English and are encouraged to hold
to their own religion.
Since Miss Cameron has learned
that all Chlnose girls wish to be mar
ried she does her best for them as a
matchmaker. She sees that they meet
reputable men who are able and will
ing to give them good homes and
proper treatment. Nor does her in
terest cease with their marriage. Her
short vacations are usually spent
visiting girls who have been under her
care and who have married. She is
entertained as an honored guest and
husbands are said to be careful to
put their best foot forward.
Hlndenburg's New Carpet.
A translation issued by the German
Information service concerns the pres
entation of a remarkable carpet to
Field Marshal von Hindenburg. It
reads:
"The city of Konia, in Asia Minor,
recently presented Field Marshal von
Hindenburg with a magnificent carpet.
On it is woven an exact map of East
Prussia, the seat of the field marshal's
great victory., In the left corner of
the carpet, surrounded by a laurel
wreath, Is a portrait of Hindenburg,
and below an inscription in German
and Turkish containing the words: 'To
h(s Excellency Gen. Field Marshal Paul
von Benckendorff und von Hinden
burg, to express thanks for the great
victorious battles at the Masurian
lakes, presented by the Inhabitants of
Konia, in Asia Minor.' "
Prayer for Horse.
Marcus Horton, author of the re
cently published novel, "Bred of the
Desert" the story of a horse and his
owner has approached in fiction what
the Russians have done in fact. He
recognizes the great service of the
horse to man in peace and makes one
of his characters repeat an imaginary
prayer of the horse to his master. The
Russians have put into their war lit
urgy the following petition for horses:
"And for those also, 0 Lord, the
humble beasts, who, with us, bear the
burden and heat of the day, and offer
their guiltless lives for the well-being
of their countries, we supplicate thy
great tenderness of heart For thou
hast premised to save both man and
beast, and great Is thy loving klnd
ness. Lord have mercy!"
Ideal Diet for the Baby.
An ideal diet for children of twelve
or thirteen months was announced
by the children's bureau of the de
partment of labor, which has been
studying the problem of the "Baby'
Second Summer." The bureau rec
ommends the following: Six o'clock
a, m., milk, eight to ten ounces; eight
o'clock, orange Juice, one to three
tablespoonfuls; ten o'clock, cereal,
one tablespoohful with milk or stale
bread and xwelback with milk six to
eight ounces; two o'clock, broth with
stale bread or beef Juice, one ounce
with bread crumbs; six o'clock, same
as ten o'clock, and ten o'clock at nlgh
milk eight ounces.
A Tourist
"If I dismiss the case against you
this time, what guarantee will I have
that you won't appear before me
again in less than a month?" asked
the Judge.
"Daf a cinch, yer honor," said the
prisoner. "If I gits out o di Tm join
out' fer two moot'."