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
<lar> 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 <Ud show it—some. In fact.
I'm afraid, 1 showed It a whole lot.
Mother fillin'* say anything then; but
on the waj* hnute in tt*** car she put
her arm around tne and said:
"I'm sorry about the pink drvsa,
dear. I knew you wanted It. But it
was not suitable at all for you—not
until you're older, dear. Mother wilt
have to look out that her little daugh
l»r Isn't getting to be vain, and too
fond of dress."
1 knew then, of course, that it was
just some more of that self-dlscipUne
business.
But Mother never used to say any
thing about «elf-<IL«i lpllne.
Is she getting to lie Ilk* Aunt Jane?
1
ONE WEEK LATER
Golden Rod Dairy
Both Phones
Erwin Harrison, Prop.
LIME
28 W
LAMB-SCHRADER. CO.
Office: Nat l Bank-Bldg.
Ground Floor
Roth Phones: Bell 43-J
P. O Box 1»7
PACIFIC ABSTRACT CO.
L. V. KRERHARDT. Prop
Complete Set of Abstracts of the Record« of Tillamook County