THE
DRIED APPLE
CHEST
<© by D. J. Walsh.)
LIZA CURRY sat writing a let
ter. X4ie had taken tbc mate
rials from a quaint wooden box
that sat before her upon the sit
ting-room table— sheets of faintly-tint
ed paper, a stick of blue wax, a quaint
pen that, dipped In a glass of water,
rewarded one with a (low of mauve
ink. She wrote slowly In a fine slant
ing hand with little curlicues on her
g’s and p’s and f ’s. And-she wrote
painfully, for never In all her life had
she anything more unpleasant to do
than writing this letter to her neph
ew's widow, Lila Canfield.
Eliza was old and tiny with white
hair wound In a sleek little knot, a
mouth like a wilted pink and dark
eyes which had once held a "come-
follow-nte" look so Irresistible that
she had scurcely been able to count
her beaus on the fingers of both hands.
But she, as so often happens, had
married the poor stick of the lot, Fer
gus Curry— because she loved him.
And that love hud weathered the vi
cissitudes of a difficult murrled expe
rience which had terminated severul
years before In Fergus’ death.
During*the years of her widowhood
Eliza had "managed.” She hud her
tiny white house and a little money
which she hud inude lust until the
present moment. Now that It was
goue she must sell her house. Indeed,
the barguln was all but made with
possession to be given Immediately.
In a week, more or less, Eliza would
be leaving the house to which she had
come as Fergus’ bride, the house
whpre her three children had been
born and had died one after the oth
er, the house where Fergus had closed
his wild, bright eyes, the house where
she herself had hoped to die. Her
nephew’s widow, Lila Canfield, offered
her a home and she was gulng there.
She was writing to say that Just as
soon as she could get things In shupe
she would come.
The spring sun came In at the win
dows hotly, and as Eliza wrote she
was conscious of a faint odor all
through the house which came not
from her pot-pourri Jar, for that was
closed; not from the geranium on the
sill, not from the strong cupful of
tea she had brewed for her lunch.
She sniffed delicately. Ah ! Now she
knew. It was the smell of apples—
dried apples, und It came from the old
chest-of-druwers in the spare bed
room off the sitting room. The door
wns standing ajar.
Leuvlng her letter she followed that
elusive lure. The old chest-of-druw
ers loomed enormous In the tiny room
which she never used because she hud
had no company of late years. When
Lila came to see her, as she did once
a year, she stayed at the Jefferson
house. So, because the room seemed
good for no other purpose, Eliza kept
Hog Reeve
there her best frock, her best hat.
“Tou ought to be a hog reeve,” said
and In the chest of drawers she kept one politician to another. Some folks
her sack of dried apples.
wondered what he meant. A reeve, lu
She opened a drawer and took out old New England, was a bailiff. A
the sack Hnd peeped Into It. How hog reeve wns bailiff to the pigs. That
Fergus had loved dried-apple pit with Is, he rounded them up. If they
a bit of boiled cider and cinnamon 1 strayed Into the streets, and Impound
She had always had her sack of dried ed them. Nobody hereabouts holds
apples on thut account. She did not the position today. Yet If the govern
care much for them herself, either In ment should re-establish the post,
pie or sauce. There was quite a sack there would doubtless be applicants
ful. Of course she wouldn't need for It.
them now that she was going awuv.
Likewise might It be the post of
She wondered what she would do with “ woodward.” Some may guess that a
them. Maybe Carrie Rush could use "woodward” was n warden who had
them. She had a big family and any charge of the town woodlots. "Culler
thing eatable always came In handy of staves" was another post In the an
there.
cient days. Not one In a thousand
And the chest-of-drawers— the drled- will guess I t This official Inspected
upple chest she called It in her own the staves that were cut for barrels. I
mind. She would huvp to sell it Lila suspect that almost everybody knows
had given her permission to bring a about the tything man.— Salem News.
few things, but nothing so cumber
some us this chest. It was not so
In the Fatt Wagon
easy to dispose of that She sighed
Mrs. Ray Foncanr.on. w ife o f the
as she gazed at I t It was very old.
It hud been In Fergus' family, had be sheriff of Vigo county, frequently
longed to his mother, she thought, or takes her daughter to school In the
On the way back to
perhaps his grandmother. It was all family sedan
handmade, a dark red wood, cherry, town she Invites all the small chil
presumably. Well, she would leave dren she passes to ride to their school-
the chest-of-drawers and take the houses.
dried apples over to Carrie Rush so I T?te other day she picked up a
little chap about seven year* old.
she could get them ready for supper.
With a shawl around her and the | When she let him out at his build
sack In her hand she went across ing some o f the children told him
that he had ridden In the sherlTs
the street to the Rush house. Mrs
car.
His eyes grew big; he began
Rush met her hospltnhly.
"Oh. don’t tell the
"What's that? Dried apples? Well, to tremble.
teacher they brought me to school In
I guess they will come In handy. I’ll !
the paddy wagon.” he begged. “O r
make me a dried apple cake after
my mother, either.” — Indianapolis
mother's recipe. Come In and sit | News
down a minute. I want you to meet i
my company— Mra. Wallace.”
Withing Away Tim
She drew Eliza Into the living room
where a small, keen-eyed woman tut | Tou hear a lot o f fellows
they wish It was Thursday. <
by the register.
Eliza, glad of a little diversion sat wish It was their birthday or
down, and tbs three women began to was summer or that this J"h w«
Now w « never could get the
talk.
wishing away time. You ml
“ I feel dreadful about your going
away. Mrs. Curry," kindly Mrs. Rush well wish away one of you
Every time a day goes past
mourned. "I don't know what I shall
Just ao much lea« o f you l e f t -
do without you. You’ve been the best
can Boy Magazine.
E
Drawing by Ray Walter#.
By ELMO SCOTT WATSON
does a silhouette how they looked.
i MAT la fame? Tin- dlctlon- Hut do we ever think of M. Daguerre,
•
I Hry. the court of lust
the r»-
Frenchman, who lu li439 gave to
I aort In quest Iona o f deflnl- the world this first form o f modern
■ tlon, «ays It 1» "renown,” photography us wa now know It? Not
“ celebrity," "that which much !
cumes one’s name to be
When It rains we slip on a mackin
remembered." And In that tosh, hut we’re not likely to stop even
last synonym lies the Joker. for a moment to he grateful to Charles
For Fame Is a capricious Mackintosh o f Manchester, England,
goddess who often love* whose Invention of wuterproof cloth
to trick those whom she makes It possible for us to keep dry
______ elevates to n position of We motor smoothly over macadam
Ustluctton.
Often she give* gen
roads with never u thought for John
erously with one hand and with
I»udon Macadam, who won fume (? )
the other suddenly takes her gift
as a road engineer In Scotland. Along
awu.v.
She promises that men’s
the way, we stop for a sandwich at
names will not he forgotten. So they,
some roadside stand, because like the
poor fools, burn out their lives to win
Karl of Sandwich we want a light
“ renown." And then they learn that
lunch which cun be eaten with com
the Joke's on them. Their names are
fort as well hs speed. I f something
remembered hut they themselves are
goes wrong with the car, we open thu
forgotten I
tool box and perhaps take out a still-
Scientists, Inventors and the like son wrench to fix I t
(Yes, a man
seem to he her favorite <lu|>es. In this named Sttllson Invented this handy
electrical age, and especially In these tool. Hut who was he. anyway?)
days of almost universal use o f the
And so It goes. On long railroad
rudlo, everyone uses the terms "watt," Journeys we ride In comfort lu pull-
"volt," "ohm” and "ampere,” hut how man cars and It's doubtful If we ever
many of us know anything about give n thought to George Mortimer
James Watt of Scotland. Count Ala*
Pullman, (he New York cabinetmaker
sandro Volta of Italy. George Simon who first transformed an old day
Ohm of Germany or Andre Marie Am couch Into the first sleeping car. We
pere o f France? At least, their nanus nmy have n nmusard roof on our house
survive In these common words even hut we don’t know that It's called that
If they themselves are forgotten, hnt heoansc a French architect named
how about that modem frotnotheus Mansard helped circumvent an old
who made It possible for us to do Paris law that tried to limit the height
away with the clumsy, old-fashioned of houses by specifying the distance
method of starting a tire with (lint and from the ground at which ult roofs
ateal? How many person* can name should begin.
the man who Invented the modem
Nor Is the caprice of Fame confined
match? Very few, probably.
to those to whom we should be most
Yet It was only ninety years ago
grateful because they have given us
that Janos Irtnyt, a Hungarian an
useful or lndis{>en*nble article# of
alytical chemist, was successful where
every day use. Did you ever say "I
hts professor had failed and by using
certainly am going to hand him a wal
phosphorus Instead of sulphur, pro
lop I" "W allop" la a perfectly good
duced a match that dared satisfac
word In the English language and fa
torily. He sold his Invention for about
miliar to everyone. Hut who remem
Ktn. In IH-ht he founded a match fac
bers now a certain Sir John Wallop, a
tory and seemed to lx on the road to
Hrtttsh general who Inflicted ao many
great wealth. Then the Hungarian
defeats upon the French that "L et’s
revolution two years later stopped hts
Wallop them!" became a by-word tn
work. He died In poverty In IXUfi.
England?
We cherish the silhouettes of our
I f you ever have to "take a rid« In
ancestors as precious helrlooina be
the Htack Marla" It may be sorde com
cause. unless our forefathers were
fort to you to meditate upon the
wealthy enough to have their portraits
thought that you know why It'a so-
painted, these silhouettes are the only
called and that the policeman who ar
things which give us any Idea o f how
rested you doesn't. 80 on the way to
they looked. Itut ere know nothing at
the station you might entertain him
alt about Ktlennne de Si l houet t e, a
with the following historical facta:
French minister of Anance, eicept that
In the old colonial days. Marta Lee. a
eoroewhere we may have heard that
negree*. kept a sailor's hoarding house
he had a reputation for atlngtneeu We
la Boston. A woman o f great stature
cherlah also those old daguerreotypes
and strength, she not only had the
o f our grandparents or greet grand-
whole lawless element of her part of
parents, which tall us aveu better thaa
town In aw« of her. but ah« also helped
I
the authorities keep the peace. It 1»
said that at one time she, unassisted,
took three riotous sailors to the lock
up and whenever a particularly
troublesome person was to be subdued
everybody Immediately said “ send for
Illack Marla." So It appears that she
wus not one to “ let George do It.” Ill
that respect she wus different from
Louis X II o f France. Although him
self a strong ruler he was fortunate
In hnvlng a prime minister who was u
clever executive und an able manager.
Georges d’Amholse was his name and
as Louis leurned more and more to
depend upon him to perform disagree
able tasks, more and more was the
sovereign o f France given to saying
“ Que Georges le fasse" (Let George
do It!)
Try this sentence on your neighbor:
"When a man In defiance o f the bone
dry laws gets filled up with gin
rlckeys he’s likely to get reckless and
let ’er go gallagher.”
He probably
will understand what you mean, all
right. Hut ask him who was Bone
and Rickey and Gallagher!
I f he
can’t answer, tell hint this: John
Hone was formerly sheriff o f Chippe
wa county, Mich., and through rigid
enforcement o f the early liquor laws
In that state made his county extreme
ly arid.
So when the legislature
passed the next anti-liquor law It was
named the Bone Dry bill. Col. Joseph
K. Hickey of Fulton, Mo., Invented the
drink called a gin rlckey. Gallagher
(first name unknown) was city marshal
of Harrodshurg, K.v. During a race
meeting In Tipton county he was the
driver of a fast trotting mare, entered
In a race by Judge Heaver o f Morgan
county, which was looked upon as a
certain winner. But some o f the sport
ing fraternity, hoping to catch the
Judge unaware. Imported a famous
fast trotter and entered the horse In
the race. At the end o f the first half
mile, the two horses came down the
stretch, neck anil neck, whereupon the
Judge shouted "Let > r go, Gallagher!"
Gaiiagher loosed the reins, the mar«
rushed forward and won the race by n
doten lengths.
What Is fame?
Judging from all
these examples fame Is a name and
nothing more. I’ersonlfied Fame la the
g o d d es s o f caprice. She promises men
that their nnnies wilt not be forgotten
and they think she Is promising them
that TH EY will not be forgotten,
o r she r ay he the goddess of
Jokes. Our children's chlldien and
their children after them may be rid
ing around In s ford and to them
Henry will he Just s common man *
name. For Fame loves her little Joke
—even a Ford Joke.
neighbor I ever had; I wish there was
some way so you could stay."
Eliza smiled her pale, patient smile.
"So do L But I shall be very cozy
at my niece’s.”
“ Of course. She will be good to
you. No one could fail to be good to
you. What are you going to do with
your things? Tuke them with you?"
" I can't. 1 guess Mr. I’ratt, the old
furniture man, will take most every-
thing— except, maybe, the dried-apple
chest."
“ The dried-apple chest 1” exclaimed
Mrs. Wallace.
Eliza explained.
" I ’d like to see that chest," Mrs.
Wallace said. "Maybe I could sell it
for you. I know a womau that’s quite
a hand for old furniture. She might
give you a good price for it.”
In the little spare bedroom where
the chest loomed bo hugely Eliza
raised the shade of the one window.
"I suppose maybe It’s one hundred
fifty years old," she remarked.
" I t *8 a fine old piece,” Mrs. Wallace
said. "Four drawers and three across
the top. And the whole front Is solid
mahogany. I fancy Mrs. Aldrich would
give you fifty dollars for this, any
way.”
Eliza drew a long breath. Fifty
dollars was a lot o f money, and yet
for her the old dried-apple chest had
a volue that could not be expressed
In terms of dollars.
Then suddenly Mrs. Wnllaee went
down on her knees und began hunt
ing for something at the bottom of
the chest.
"I want a knife or something to
pry with,” she said.
Eliza brought the knife. Mrs. W al
lace inserted the blade In a cruck
which the varnish almost filled. She
worked the knife hack and-forth, she
gave a tug and out flew a drawer thut
Eliza, perhaps Fergus himself, had
never known wus there.
“A secret drawer!" cried Mrs. W al
lace. “ And look here 1"
She took out a buckskin pouch
which weighed heavily.
Open it 1” she commanded. But she
had to cut the thong with the knife.
Out of the pouch poured gold pieces
and greenbacks. “ Somebody’s treas
ure," she commented.
Eliza stared at the gold In amaze
ment
"It Is Fergus’ uncle’s money 1” she
said. “ The family always wondered
what he did with It. He didn’t have
a cent when he died. The chest was
In his room.”
And still she stared, scarcely com
prehending the wealth that hud so mi
raculously become hers.
It was not until the next day that
she remembered her unfinished letter
to LMa. The money was In the bank
to her credit. She wus again inde
pendent of reluctantly charltuble rel
atives.
A moment she contemplated the un
finished page. “ Need” was the Inst
word she had written when the fra
grance of dried apples stnrted her on
her great adventure. Why, she wns
beyond need now! With a smile she
tore the letter to bits, and sat down
to write another one.