THE TILLAMOOK HEADLIGHT ¿MARY ¿MARIE A* Eleanor H. Porter «ft* Illustrations by % H. Livingstone You are Never Far from Buick Service You can go traveling in a Buick with a sense of security that doubles your enjoyment. You know that Buick is a powerful, dependable, sturdy car. It will take you “there and back,” whatever kind of roads or difficult driving con ditions you may encounter. You know further that no matter where you go, Buick authorized service is always close at hand in case you should happen to need it Buick authorized service is nation-wide. You will find it in practically every city, town and village in the country. THE SUNSET GARAGE Don’t let the rainy days etop your moving The City Transfer... Is prepared to send experienced packers into canvas to cover all your your home with goods CALL US DAY OR NIGHT Our Motto: Quick service and re asonable rates. Our customers are taking advantage of our discounts Are you one of them? Discontinue issninsr discount tickets on la rye amount»« but will deduct the 5 per cent discount from pu rehusé price nt option of purchaser. you money by our discount otto r Try It and prove It. CONOVER & CONOVER TILLAMOOK, OREGON SYNOPSIS PREFACE.—‘Mary Mari«" sxplalns her apparent "double personality" and just why she la a "cross-currant and a contra diction«he also tail« her r«a«on« for writing the diary—latar to be a novel. The la commenced at Aaderaonvtlle. CHAPTER L—Mary begins with Nurse Borah's account of her (Mary’s) birth, which seemingly Interested her father, who Is a famoua astronomer, Isas than a new star which was discovered the same night. Her name la a compromise, her ■oilier wanted to call her viola aad her father Insisting on Abigail Jane. The child quickly learned that her home was la some wav different from those of her small friends, and was pusxlsd thereat. Nurse Harsh tells her of her mother's ar rival at Anderson villa as a bride and how astonished they all were at the sight of ths dainty slghteoa-ysar old girl whoa the eedate prof.Mor had chosen for a wife. CHAPTER IL—Continuing her story. Nurse Sarah makes it plain why the household seemed a strange one to the child aad howhsr father and mother drifted apart through misunderstanding, each too proud to In any way attempt to smooth over the situation vnar-i aiK UL-Mary tolls of the time ■nent “out west" where the "perfectly all right and genteel and respectable'' divorce was being arranged for. and her ■other's (to hsr) unacountable behavior. By the court's decree the child la to spend six months of the year with her mother and six months with hsr father. Boston e Mother’s borne, and she and Mary eave Andersonville for that city to spend the first six months. CHAPTER IV.—At Boston Mary bs- oomoa "Marls.“ ghe la delighted with her (aw home, eu different from the gloomy louse at Andersonville. The number of Cntlemen who call on her mother leads r to speculate on the possibility of a new father. She classes the caller« as ••prospective suitor«," Anally deciding the cfcoh-e la to be between "the violinist'’ aad a Mr. Harlow. A conversation ahe overhears between ber r >ther and Mr. Harlow convinces her that It will not bo that gentleman, and "to violinist'' seems to be the likely man. Mrs. Anderson re solve« a latter from “Aunt Abigail Ander son. her former husband's sistsr, whl Is keeping house for him, reminding her that “Mary la expected at Andersonville for die «lx month« «he ts to spend with her father. Her mother la distressed, but has no alternative, and "Marte" departs for AndersonvtUe and the crops. And io rd begin: "Dear Father: I take my pen in hand to inform you that—“ Then I’d atop and think and think, and chew my pen-handle. Then Td put down something. But It was aw ful, and I knew It was awful. So I’d have to tear It up and begin again. Three times I did thst; then I began to cry. It did seem as If I never could write that letter. Once I thought of asking Mother what to say, and get ting her to help me. Then I remem bered how she cried and took on and said things when the letter came, and talked about how dreadful and un- natural It all was, and how she was jealous for fear I'd love Father better than I did her. And I was afraid she’d do It again, and so I didn't like to ask her. And so I didn’t do it. Then, after a time. I got out hla let ter and read It again. And all of a sudden I felt all warm and happy, just as I did when I first got it; and some way I was back with him In the observatory and he was telling me all about the stara. And I forgot all about being afraid of him. And I Just remembered that he’d asked me to tell him what I did on Christmas day; and I knew right off that that would be easy. Why, just the easiest thing In the world! And so I got out a fresh sheet of paper and dipped my pen tn the Ink and began again. And this time I didn't have a bit of trouble. I told him all about the tree I had Christmas eve, and the presents, and the little colored lights, and the fun we had singing and play ing games. And then how, on Christ mas morning, there was a lovely new anow on the ground, and Mr. Easter brook came with a perfectly lovely sleigh and two horses to take Mother and me to ride, and what a splendid time we had, and how lovely Mother looked with her red cheeks and bright eyes, and how, when we got home, Mr. Easterbrook said we looked more like slaters than mother and daughter, and wasn't that nice of him. Of course. I told a little more about Mr. Easter brook, too, so Father’d know who he was—a new friend of Mother's that Td never known till I came back this time, and how he was very rich and a most estimable man. That Aunt Hattie said so. Then I told him that In the after noon another gentleman came and tnolr to it perfect Iv beautiful con- cert. And I 'finished' ufF by telling about the Christmas party In the eve ning, and how lovely the house looked, and Mother, and that they said I looked nice, too. And that was all. And when I had got it don* I mw that I had written a long letter, a great long letter. And I was almost afraid It.was too long, I remembered that Father CHAPTER At Andersonville Aunt Jane meets her at the station. Her fa ther Is away somewhere, studyin* an eclipse of the moon. Marie—-"Mary” now—Instinctively compares Aunt Jane, prim and severe, with her beautiful, dainty mother, much to the former’s disadvan tage. Aunt Jane disapproves of ths dain ty clothes which ths child Is wearin«, and replaces them with ’’serviceable” serges and thick-coled shoes Her father arrives home and seems surprised to see her. The child soon begins to notice that the girls at school seem to avoid her. Her father appears Interested In the life Mrs. An derson leads at Boston and asks many questions In a queer manner which pussies Mary. Rhe finds out that her schoolmates do not associate with her on account of her parents being divorced, and she refuses to attend school. Angry at first. Mr Anderson, when he learns the reason for her determination, decides that she need not go. He will hear her lessons Tn Aunt Jane's and her father’s absence Mary dresses In the pretty clothes she brought from Boston nn<1 plays the liveliest tunes she knows, on the little- used piano Th» n. overcome hv her lone- some.ness, she Indulges _ ..j In a a cryl crying spell which her father’s unexpected HTif'xpect^n appear ___ ance Interrupts. She soba ‘ out the story of her unhappiness, ant! In a clumsy way he comfort 'i»‘r Aft^r that he appears tn de*«|re tc make her May mor- pleasant Her tw In« that Mary be allowed n for the he*ln- in»! Mr my dhow?-Echo answers never! So I’ve about given up that'«* amounting to anything, either. Of course, there's Fattier left, and of course, when I go back to Ander sonville this summer, there may be something doing there. But I doubt IL I forgot to say I haven’t heard from Father again. I answered his Christ mas letter, as I said, and wrote just as nice as I knew how, and told him all he asked me to. But he never an- swered, nor wrote again, I am dis- appointed, I’ll own up. I thought he would write. I think Mother did, too. She's asked me ever ao many times If I hadn’t heard from him again. And she always looks so sort of funny when I say no—sort of glsd and sorry together, all tn one. But, then, Mother's queer In lots of ways now. For Instance: One week ago she gave me a perfectly lovely box of chocolates—a whole two-pound box all at once; and I've never had more than a half-pound at once before. But just as I was thinking how for once I was going to have a real feast, and all I wanted to eat—what do you think she told me? She said I could have three pieces, and only three pieces a day; and not one little tiny one more. And when I asked her why she gave me such a big box for, then, If that was all I could have, she said It was to teach me self-dlsclpllne. That self-discipline was one of the most wonderful things In the world. That If she'd only been taught It when she was a girl, her life would have been very, very different. And so she was giving me a great big box of choco lates for my very own, just so as to teach me to deny myself and take only three pieces every day. Three plecea I—and all that whole big box of them just making my mouth water all the while; and all just to teach me that horrid old self-dlscl pllne 1 Why, you'd think It was Aunt Jane doing It Instead of Mother! FRIDAY. JUNK ». i„j Therein noiqysteiy »w good oil ». r It must be made from crudes selected for their “oiliness” ar ty. These crudes must be refined to preserve their original characteristics and to make them pure. In selecting crudes for Zerolene the Standard Oil Company has the advan tage of its own large production of practically every type of crude. The company is not compelled to use any particular crude because it happens to be the only one available. Crudes selected for Zerolene sre brought to our refineries in special pipe lines. They sre refined by our own patented, high-vacuum process which preserves their “oiliness” end Stability. No other refiner on the Pacific Coast uses any form of vacuum distillation. No other refiner in the United States usss as high a vacuum as this company. Purity Essential Zerolene oil« ar« pur«. This company has al ways considered the removal of all detrimental properties and compounds as essential in mak ing Zerolene. Because of their ‘'oiliness, ** stability and purity, ¿erolene oils five perfect lubrication, and per mit the development of the maximum power, •peed and gasoline mileage of the car. ONE WEEK LATER It's come—Father’s letter. It came last night. Oh, It was short, and it didn’t say anything about what I wrote. But I was proud of It, just the same. I just guess I was! He didn’t get Aunt Jane to write to Mother, as he did before. And then, besides, he must have forgotten his stars long enough to think of me a little—for he remembered about the school, and that I couldn’t go there In Anderson ville, and so he said I had better stay here till It finished. And I was so glad to stay I It made me very happy—that letter. It made Mother happy, too. She liked it, and she thought It was very, very kind of Father to be willing to give me up almost three whole months of his six. se I could go to school here. And she said so. She said once to Aunt Hattie that she was almost tempred to write and thank him. But Aunt Hattie said, “Pooh,” and It was no more than he ought to do, and that she wouldn't be seen writing to a tnan who so care fully avoided writing to her. So Mother didn’t do it, I guess. But I wrote. I had to write three letters, though, before I got one that Mother said would do to send. The first one sounded so glad I was stay ing that Mother said she was afraid he would feel hurt, and that would be too bad—when he'd been so kind. And the second one sounded as If I was so sorry not to go to Andersonville the first of April that Mother said that would never do in the world. He'd think I didn't want to stay In Boston. But the third letter I managed to make Just glad enough to stay, and Just sorry enough not to go. So that Mother said It was all right. And I sent it. APRIL Well. STANDARD ML COMPANY ICaitfbnuaf more pcwerêspeed «Vf less metfon and wear ~ thruforratf Lubrication MALNUTRITION!! What is malnutrition? It is a weak condition of the body caused by lack of nourishment. The food may not contain some element needed for blood repair, or it may lack some thing for bone repair. The whole structure is weakened thereby. Then some day an organ gives away. Life is cut short. ■'in.K is a wonde-fttl nutrient ma- terial thrit tones up the blood, cor- reefs tie secretlons of glands and Tn due thme repalTS Tliq damaped or- Kan or (Ilasue. coin I Men Rod Dairy < Clarified Milk. Sent It Off. Need A New Range Kitchen Hardware and Cooking Utensils Paint to Brighten up the Furniture Farming Implements ALEX McNAIR & CO Try the Cías For Results could only h over agnlh -he'd <1 so differently. Then she bej I couldn’t do a of course, that 1 began*to cry. Rhe stopped then, right off short, and wiped her eyes fiercely with her wet hall of a handkerchief. Aio! she n«ked what was ahv thinking of. and didn’t she know any better than to talk like this to me. Then «he said, come, we’il go for a ride. And we did. And all the rvM of that day Mother was so gay and lively you’d think she didn’t know how to cry. Now. wasn’t that^unny? Of rouiMV. I shall answer Father*« letter right away, but I haven’t the falntvM idea what to *aj. ONE WEEK LATER l answered It—Father’« letter, 1 menu—ycatortlny, anti It's gone now. But I lied un awful time over It. I just didn't know what hi the world to say. I'd start out all right, and I'd think I was going to get along beauti fully, Then, ull of a sudden, It would »■vine over me, what I was doing writing a letter to uty father! And 1 could Imagine Just how he'd look w hen he got It. all stern and «Uxnlfled. sit ting In his chair with his paper-cutter; and I'd Imagine his eyes looking down •ending what 1 wrote. And when light of that, my pen Just wouldn't The Men of my writing unythlng tber w on|d want to reud! il I’d try to think of things that d write—big thing» —Mg things vt ntd Interest big men: Ahotit rtwident and our-c.»nntry ‘ti**''f- t A»tL-XlML «<-the t/catb»w MARCH . with- I naturally pick out the biggest piece*. So you can Imagine what they got down to toward the last—mostly < lineolate almonds. As fur the svIf-Ml.-cipllne -I don't see as I feel any mote disciplined than I did Itefore, and I know 1 want choco lates just as much us ever. And I said so tn Mother But Mother is qui'er. Honestly is. And 1 can't help wondering- getting to be like Aunt Jane? Now, listen to this: Ln :t week 1 had to havp a new party dres«. and we found a iierfugt darling of a pink silk, all gold beads, and gold slippers to match. And 1 knew I'd look perfectly divine in It; and once Mother would have got It for me. But not this time. She got a horrid wnite until- lin with dots in it, and blue silk sasl- suitable for a child—for any child I UX course, I Wus disappol • ‘ i ifs been quite a while Yes. I tint there hasn’t been u thing to say— nothing new or exciting I mean There's just school, and the usual things, only Mr, Easterbrook doesn't come in more. (Of course, the vio- II 's| hasn't ue slnro that day ho proposed.) I don't know whether Mr. Easterbrook proposed or not. I only know that aU of a sudden he stopped craning. I fion't know the reason. I don't overhear so much ns I used to. anyway. Not but that I’m In the library window scat Just the «ante; bnt 'most everybody that comes In looks there right off; and. of course, when they see me they don't hardly ever go on with what they are tiling Bui It Just naturally follows that I don’t overhear things as 1 used to. Not that there’s much to hear, though. Really, there Just Isn't any thing going on. and things aren't hall so lively as they used to lie when Mr. Kasterbrook was here, and all the real. They've all stopped coining, now, 'most, I've about given up ever a love story of Mother s to put And ndue, too. Here 1 am next month going tvn sixteen. that brook and river met long But Mother is getting to b* alnio» bad as Aunt Jane was about my reiving pro|H*r attoutlona from y» men. oh. she lets me go to plait little, with the boys at school; b always have to be chaperoned, win never are they going to ba chunec h» say anything really thril with .Mother er .Aunt Hattie r.gti -upiiose 1