Decatur Daily Democrat, Volume 32, Number 121, Decatur, Adams County, 19 May 1934 — Page 2

Page Two

WSCSm f classified” , ADVERTISEMENTS, I | BUSINESS CARDS, j AND NOTICES FOR SALE FOR SALE —(Cabbage plaute, 6c a dozen. First bouse south ol hospital on oust side of road on imid piko Victor Amacher. 119-3 t For Sale —Today, started chicks. | l’iuodalo Hatchery, corner Second i and Jackson streets. G. 2t — x FOR, SAUK Grand i'iauo. Hike i new; 1934 model, in this vicinity. Mu«('sell at once. Very low balance at easy terms. Write Finance Manager, 812 Main Street, Anaerson, i 1 ini ia ■ ~. 12® alt FOR.JSALE — Maucbu soy beans. Hurry Edged. quarter mile north of ltobo. 121-6tx . ~i . ..... — — FORESALE —A high grade Guernsey* calf, Just a few days old. cheap if taken soon. J. W. Anderson. bn Doctor Beavers' farm, G It. I 2. rural phone J->t>7. k-12l)-3tx j FOR FALK —Gold Seal and Quaker Armstrong rugs 45 to $8.50. 9x | 12 Axminsters, 425 to $35. New I kitchen cabinets, $22.5(1 to $25.00. ! h;>rague Furniture Go., phone 199. 120-2 t j HAT SALE — Reduced prices on j bats: $2.5. value go at $1.95; $2 j value go at *1.50; $1.50 value go at $1; 25 hats to go at 25c each. Mrs. Maude A. Merrimau. 222 S. I Fourth St. 121-21 j FOR SALE — Received new ship-' ment living room suites, $35 and ' up; bedroom suites slo and up; oil stoves. $1.90 and up; mattresses, bed springs ami congoleum rugs at very reasonable prices. Stucky ,v Co., Monroe, Ind. 121-Tt ! FOR SALE 1 used 1932 Fordson j ami 3 used For Ison tractors. 1 2-yr. j old work horse. 2 tractor plows. 2 1 air compressors. 5 electric motors. ; Plow points at a reduction. See ] the new Fordson before you buy. Craigviile Garage. 119-4txeod FOR SALE OR RENT U sed pianos —We will rent these pianos to responsible parties very reasonable. Sprague Furniture Co. Phone | 199. 120-2 t | WANTED WANTED —Radio or electric work : Call Phone t!25. Miller Radio Ser-1 vice, 226 No. 7tli St. Apr 9tf: MALE HELP WANTED — Mail j wanted in this locality as direct representative of well known oil I company. Sell small town and 1 farm trade on easy credit terms. Experience not necessary. No investment required. Chance for im- j mediate steady income. Write P. T. Webster. Geeral Manager. 6251 Standard Bank Building, Cleveland. | Ohio. ltx AGENTS Wanted- I.ePrince Per | turners operating from Coast to i Coast have catered Indiana Exclusive Agents will be appointed! in rv< ry locality. If interested in | a fast selling proposition write | ‘"Distributor” 515 Madison Ave., Anderson. Ind. altx WANTED Tt) BUY—We buy In j dain head pennies, all dates wanted: We pay tip to $47 each. Send j 100 for catalog. Numismatic Co., of "Chicago, Box 1213, Chicago. - £* Wanted:- Two or three furnish-1 ed* light housekeeping rooms. Box j KM . Democrat Office. 120-t2x WE WANT Rags, Paper, Metal, j Scrap Iron and Wool. The Maier Hide & Fur Co., 710 W. Monroe j SU Phone 412. 97 ts eod i Wanted To Rent —Modern or semi-modern house, possession by June 1. Harry King, 522 N. 3rd St. 120 3 t x WANTED — Paper hanging and painting. Satisfactory work. H.' A, ‘Peck” Templin, phone 5655. 119a-3tx WANTED —1,000 farmers to raise pullets for us. Come and see us for further Information. Model HatPhery, Monroe, phone 44. 117G5t DISTRICT MEET HERE TUESDAY (CONTINUED FROM TAOE ONE) » • ♦ * ♦ ♦♦ ♦♦♦ • water. Riley (Jiirisman, S. E. Shautp, M. E. Howt-r and Giles Potter of this city and Laura D. SShatto of Van Buren. Mrs. James Bair, will give the. welcome address at the Tuesday morning session and the response will be given by Cora Hood of BUiffton. Business matters will be transacted during the morning and at the noon hour a luncheon will be served at the Methodist church. The afternoon session will open at 1:30 o'clock, and addresses will be given by Clara Cllmour. grand senior and by Ocie V. Jefllison, grand chief. o Mrs. John Falk of Peru, formerly of Decatur, is reported to be seriously ill at her home. Her condition is regarded critical and relatives have been called to the Falk home.

MARKETREPORTS DAILY REPORT OF LOCAL AND FOREIGN MARKETS LOC AL MARKET Decatur, Berne, Cralgvill .Hoagland Wiltshire, Ohio Corrected May 17 No commission and no yardage Veals received Tuesday Wednesday Friday and Saturday I 160 to 200 Ibo $3.40 1210 to 280 Dm $3.45 250 lei 300 lbs $3.40 I 300 to 350 lbs $3.25 I 140 to 160 lbe $3.00 ! 120 to 14u lbs $2.20 j 100 to 120 lbs sl.Bo j i Roughs $2.25 | Stags .... $1.25 i | Veaters $5.60 j Wool lambs sS.od CHICAGO GRAIN CLOSE May July Sept. I j Wheat .90% .89', 8 .90 Corn 19 .52 .53 Vz I | Oats 35 .35% .35% East Buffalo Livestock Hog receipts 400; weights above! I 220 tbs. strong to shade higher; | lighter averages unsold; quoted! i steady; desirable 220 to 260 Ibs.| $4.15. j Cattle receipts 0; week's steer 1 I and yearling i*un ligiht; market active, steady to weak;; good of-! ! lerings mostly 1.000 lbs., dov.n! I $6.75 to $7.25; few $7.50; medium I $5.85 to $6.50; mixed yearlings. I ! $6.75. ! Calf receipts 0; vealers closed I steady with last week; early loss j regained; good to choice $6.50 >* ! I largely $7 late. Sheep receipts 0; lambs scarce; j around 25c under last week; good to choice $5.75 to SS.SS; top $9. Fort Wayne Livestock Hogs steady to 15c higher: 250i 300 lbs. $3.70; .200-250 11>s. $3.65: i 160-200 lbs. $3.55; 300-350 lbs ! $3.35; 150-160 lbs. $3.10; 140-15 > lbs. $2.85: 130-140 lbs. $2.60; 120130 lbs. $2.25; 100-120 lbs. $2: ! roughs $2 75; stags $1.25. Calves $6; Lambs $9. LOCAL GRAIN MARKET Corrected May 17 No. 1 New Wheat, 60 lbs or better 77c ! No. 2 New Wheat, 58 lhs 76c | Oats „ 29*c First class Yellow Corn 60c ! Mixed corn 5c less | Test Your Knowledge Can you answer seven of these j tese Questions? Turn to page Four for the answers. ♦ .——♦ 1. Name the founder of the col-; ony of Georgia. 2. Who wrote the novel ‘ Hard j Cash?” 3. What country is known ae the 'Land of Chrysanthemums?" 4. Where is Brown University? 5. Who wrote the “Vaiiima lettt*TS ** i 6. Where is the watering place named Biarritz? 7. Into what river does the Ohio ! River flow? S. What was the nickname of ] Lilly Ixingtry. the actress? 9. In which borough of Greater New York is the village of Flush- 1 ing. L. I.? It). Who wrote the poem "The Ring and the Brook?” 1- o Columbus Man Is Named Representative Washington, May 19.—(U.PJ -Ap 1 pointment of George G. Whitehead,; Columbus, 0., as special representative of the National Recovery Ad- | ministration in Ohio, Indiana autl 1 Michigan, was announced today bvi I Charles F. Horner, special assist- ! ant to NBA Administrator Hugh S. Johnson.

NOTICE Call phone 713 for clear artificial ice. Prompt deliveries. Ed. Whitright — Learn Beauty Culture Earn while you learn. Write M. Brail, 220 Broadway St. Ft. Wayne, Ind.j FARR-WAY -ip» Cleaning Ihp SUITS, HATS IJO TOP COATS DECATUR LAUNDRY = N. A. BIXLEB OPTOMETRIST Eyea Examined, Glasses Fitted HOURS: 8:30 to 11:30 12:30 to 6 00 Saturdays, 8:00 p. m. Telephone 135. a

WHEATGROPIS NEAR AVERAGE Indiana’s Winter Wheat Crop 80 I’er Cent Normal May 1 Lafayette, Ind., May I—(UP)— Indiana's winter wheat crop was 80 ( per cent of normal, approximately | equal to the 10-year average, when

CINDERELLA' .j Harold Bell Wright

SYNOPSIS Diane Carrol—young artist and wealthy orphan, more interested in her work than society—visits the little village of Pine Knob in the Ozarks. Her sunny disposition melts the usual frigidity of the mountaineers towards strangers and they accept her as one of the “home folks”—all except Ann Haskel. whose word is law in Pine Knob. Diane, nevertheless, is fascinated by Ann about whom she has heard conflicting stories of generosity and hardness. The mountain woman seems to be avoiding Diane, but her good-for-nothing stepson, Jeff Todd, follows the artist everywhere. Ann has a son of her own, John Herbert Haskel, whom she sent away years ago, following the death of her first husband. Diane’s best friends among the mountaineers are “Uncle Jimmie" and “Aunt Josie” Cartwright who have promised to protect her from the annoying Jeff. One day, Ann comes epon Diane painting in Shady Creek Valley and brusquely asks: “What be you a-doin’ hyear?” Diane apologizes for trespassing. Ann’s demeanor changes immediately and she says: "You’re welcome I got sense to see you ain’t s-hurtin’ nobody.” CHAPTER VIII. Presently Diane said with quiet enhusiasm: “I’m awfully glad you happened to find me here this morning, Mrs. Haskel.” The mountain woman looked at her sharply before answering. Then again the artist saw the shadow of a smile. "What is thar "bout me a-hap-penin’ to keteh you hyear that I makes you glad?” "I have been wanting to know you ever since I came,” smiled Diane. “Ive heard so much about I you.” “Jimmie Cartwright is a gabby old fool. She’s another. So’s Pappy Giles. Talk their dad-burned heads off. give ’em ha’f a chance. Weuns in the backwoods air mostly a triflin’, no-’count, come-day-go-day-Gawd-send-Sunday, lot. This hyear country’s all right—natchally. Hit’s the folks what’s a-speilin’ hit.” Her face softened and her voice was not so harsh. “These hyear ./ iods an’ mountains an’ valleys an’ streams an’ springs they ain’t noways like we-uns what’s a-Jivin’ among ’em. Hit would sure be a Gawd-a-mighty’s blessin’ if folks 1 could only be an’ live like the trees. ! now wouldn't hit?” 1 The many tales she had heard about Ann Haskel raced through ! Diane’s mind: Her despotic rule over the countryside: the rescue of Pappy Giles and his invalid wife; , the night-riders; the newcomers , she had forced to move on; the poor people she had helped; the undesirables she had driven out; her boy, the last of the Haskels, whom she had put so completely out of the 1 backwoods life, and out oi her own ' life as well. When she had first discovered the artist in that place, and had made her presence known to Diane, she had been as the Lodge 1 i people described her —suspicious. . hard, dangerous even. But now, as \ the woman sat there on the ground in the very heart of her mountain wilderness, she seemed to relax—to lower her guard, as it were. It was as if she felt that she might safely snatch a moment’s rest. And Diane, with the true artist’s vision, saw all at once something wonderfully fine and strong in that hard, uncompromising, weather-beaten face The woman must have been | beautiful in her youth, with a strong, wild, free sort of beauty. If the boy. John Herbert, was any- ; thing like his mother, thought 1 Diane, the world would surely hear jf the last of the Haskels. Aloud, she said, gently: “But ! God created human beings as truly as He made the trees, didn't He?” “Not like they be. He didn’t. He only give ’em their start. Folks mostly make themse’vcs. What a body makes of himse’f depends a lot on the chance he gits. Sometimes hit depends on somethin’ else —somethin' nobody can’t noways taelp: like, fer instance, whar hit’s jest natchally in the breed. Youall at the Lodge down yonder, you’re a heap more triflin’ an’ worthless even than we-uns what war homed an' raised right hyear in the backwoods. An’ look ai the chance you-

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DECATUR DAILY DEMOCRAT SATURDAY, MAY 10, 1004. -

thi- severe drought began to tause apprehension May 1. the Purdue University agricultural experiaieut station reported today. With little actual damage apparent at that time, there was an indicated yield of 16 bushels per acre ; with total state production of 26.128,000 bushels, the repott said. The average wheat crop In the state between 1927 and 1931 was J7.4U1.000 bushels. Rye was 83 per cent of normal, three points below, three points below average, with an indicate! yield of 12 bushels per

all got! We-uns don’t know nothin’ an’ got less; you-uns know everything an’ got everything. We-uns air mostly a doin’ the best we know; you-uns ain’t a-givin’ a doggone. You should take shame to yourse’ves, bein’ like you be with all the chance you’ve had." Diane flushed. "Evidently you haven’t a very good opinion of us.” "Y’ou’re durned right I ain’t. I sure like folks what’s got somethin’ to ’em. I’d a sight ruther have ’em right down bad than to have ’em jest plum’ nothin’, like youuns. Take your funny little drinks. Now, what do they amount to? If I war a-wantin’ to drink. I’d h’ist me a good hefty snort of real licker. An’ I’d take her straight. Look at them cigareets you’re all the time a-suckin—jest paper an’ fancy store terbaccer. Me, I smoke a real pipe an’ real terbaccer—long green what I raise an’ cure mysc’f. Fishin’ with little poles no bigger’n a wilier switch, an’ make-believe flies! If a body wants fish, let him git to work an’ set him a trot-line, or take him a gig an’ kill hisse’f a real mess. An’t nothin’ to make-believe fishin’—a-ketchin’ poor little minnies what ain’t big ’nough to smellup the skillet even. You-uns ain’t a-livin’ real; you’re jest playin’ at livin’; hit’s all jest make-believe to you. You don’t even dress real. Go ’round ha’f the time a-wcarin’ funny man-clothes—the balance of the time you ain’t got on ’nough to wad a shotgun.” "But, Mrs. Haskel, don’t you think—" “You hush till I’ve done said my say. You-uns can’t even take keer of your menfolks. They’re poor critters, them Lodge men. Menfolks mostly air. Four out of five husbands ain’t worth koepin’; t’other one wouldn’t be if hit warn’t fer some woman a-lookin’ after him. Every woman’s jest natchally got to take keer of some man. soon or late. Seems like that’s what Gawd-a-mighty made ’em females fer. Hit mostly happens, too. that the man a woman's takin’ keer of ain’t the one she’s a-thinkin’ most about.” “Very good. Mrs. Haskel,” Diane returned, with spirit “But I certainly object to your putting tnc in the do-nothing-but-pretend class. 1 work, and I work hard. My father was a worker, too. No one ever accused Bill Carrol of not living real, as you call it And he taught me to live the same way. My friends are ail people who work for everything they have and who value above everything else the realities of life.” The mountai) woman looked at her shrewdly. “Be you a-takin' keer of one of them Lodge men?” “Indeed I am not!" “Bet you’re a-thinkin’ "bout some man you’d like to be a-takin’ keer of?" “I am not; 1 am too interested in my work.” “Meanin them pitchers you’re all the time a-paintin’?” “Meaning exactly that." Diane retorted sharply. “Huh i Don’t 'pear to be much work T>out hit 'cordin’ to my way of thinkin’.” “I suppose not But perhaps that is because you know so little about it.'' “I reckon you done said hit,” admitted Ann Haskel, with an odd smile; and there was a curious wistful look on her rugged face, and a strange eagerness in her voice as she added: “I’d sure admire to have you tell me "bout hit —*bout what you call your work, I mean ” Partly in the spirit of defending herself against the charge of uselessness, and partly with a desire to help this backwoods woman to understand a little that real living was not wholly material and utilitarian as she saw it, Diane talked of art and of those who labored and sacrificed in its service. Ann Haskel listened intently. "So you see,” the artist concluded, “one must work, and work hard, to accomplish anything worth while in the arts. ’Dabbling’ simply counts for nothing at all.” “Uncle Jimmie lows you make a right smart of money with your pitchers. Do you?" “I make enough." Dane answered, shortly “But if the money I make was my only interest in painting, I would never again touch a brush ” And that—considering the size of

acre or 1,532,000 bushels. Stocks of hay were reported low, with only 10 per cent of last year's crop of 182,000 tons, on hand, as compared to the average carryoverfrom 1923-33 of 382.000 tons. Hay meadows ware reported 72 per cent of normal, eight points below average, prolonged dry weather resulted In slow growth aud pasture (oudltlou was reported at 67 per cent normal. Seventy-two per vent of the cows were being milked, as com pa rod with 73.8 per cent last year and up proxlmately 58 per cent of hens

i' the fortune which Diane Carrol in- - herited from her father —was so s literally true that the artist smiled ; at the thought. It would be quite '. useless, she reflected, to explain that ■ she was a very wealthy young e woman and, therefore, could not be reasonably charged with painting j pictures for money. And besides. ’’ Bill Carrol's daughter preferred alI ways to stand on her own feet. With ■ her it was a matter of pride—pride e not understandable to many, pere haps, but—well—as those who knew - her best sometimes remarked. i. "That was Diane.” f “You're a likely-lookin’ young } woman,” said Ann. “How come you '• ain’t got no man to be a-lookin’ 1 after?” “It is all I can do to take care of | ; myself," Diane returned, with a ‘ shade of bitterness, meaning far more than the mountain woman j knew. With her knowledge of life ! I and her downright honesty the ; j heiress of the Carrol fortune had e long since faced the truth that her l pride in being valued for herself j, alone would quite likely result in j her remaining single to the end of | her days. . “ 'Pears like you got some sense," ; t admitted the other. "But hit’d be 5 right smart more decent, ’cordin’ to ! , my way of thinkin’, if you was to i • git yourself married regular 'stead f of playin’ ’round with the men like j you young city wimmen do these days.” j Diane was furious. “Are you deliberately trying to insult me. Mrs. Haskel?” she demanded. ’ “You can take hit or leave hit,” j r retorted the mountain woman, " harshly. “I know what I’ve seed | 5 every summer them Lodge folks has been a hellin’ 'round this neighborr hood. I ain't a plum’ fool jest ’cause ( r I’ve lived my life in the woods.” ’ Something in the mountain worn--1 an’s voice — something, perhaps, r which Diane herself had thought of certain of the vacationists, caused j • the girl to smother her indignation. ■ “I don’t care w hat you think you : know, Mrs. Haskel.” she said, calm--1 ly. “You certainly do not know s me. “Mebbe not—yet,” came the grim ' retort. “Got any folks, have you?” I Almost against her will Diane \ told briefly of her childhood under ; Aunt Jessica’s guardianship; of her | father, his work and their comrade- ; ship; of her student days; and that ’ she was now alone in the world. , “The last of the Carrols,” she said, unconsciously using a phrase which had been put into her mind by the ’ stories of Ann Haskel and her son. The older woman spoke heavily; • “You sure had a chance to be some- > thin’—with a daddy like that an’ schoolin’ an travelin’ an’ all. Weuns what’s borned an’ raised up ’ hyey in these backwoods ain’t got no sich chance. I used to read Tiout i sich things in books when 1 was a young woman 'bout your age—l , mean, the sort of things that you war borned to an’ that you've been , brought up amongst. But thar warn't never no way fer me to have , ’em. I knowed a man once—he used , to come an’ stay with we-uns a spell every fall to hunt. He used to tell > ’bout sich things like you’re a-toll- ■ in’. Seemed like I could mighty nigh sense hit all when I war listenin’ to . him. He used to send me books, too. j I An’ write me letters, sometimes. He , never married. I never knowed why. Any woman would ’a’ been 1 mighty proud to have him father . her children.” Her voice sank to a t dreary hopeless monotone which j ’ nearly brought tears to Diane’s eyes. “This hyear ain’t no fitten place to raise up a child. Not if r ne’s got good blood, hit ain’t. Hit’ll ' do fer some right enough. You jest ’ natchally can’t spoil a rotten aigg, nohow. But hit sure ain’t noways j fitten fer to raise up young folks I , what could be somethin’ if only they had a chance.” And suddenly Diane Carrol’s understanding heart went out to this mountain woman who was reveal- j ] ing so much more than she realized , of her life tragedy. The girl, j strangely enough, felt a kinship with her—as if between them there ! was some bond —as if beneath the . surface things of their lives which were so far apart there lived something which was theirs in common. Bill Carrol's daughter, and Ann j Haskel. too. were "sisters under the 1 skin.” M (To Be Continued) j Coor*t«M I til Ov HirelO B«ll WrlfM i ni*»rlb«it»4 r»T King FcaturM Srndirtt* In*

wore* laying, tlio eame u yoai I ago. i Get the Habit — Trade at Home j Il||>* |()H I I I I\ I N * I oil lintl'lTtl. N't lev* Sn herel»> given that th«*. Board Os Tiuntees for th»* Adainnj County Memorial Hoapital will receive bid* at tlie office of th< Hospital in Decatur, Indiana, until 7 00 o'clock IV M. on the Ist day of June 1934 for the furnUhlug «»f Household Idnentf. according to t lie itemized list and specifications for the same j now on file In the office of said Hospital and also at the office of the ; County Auditor. Bids to be made out on form accompanied by affidavit and bond a* j required by law. The Board reserves the right to reject any or all bids. Board of Trustees By E. C. Christ, H. N.. Supt. May 12-19

SYNOPSIS Diane Carrol—young artist and wealthy orphan, more interested in her work than society—vis*'s the little village oi Pine Knob in the Ozarks. Her sunny disposition melts the usual frigidity of the mountaineers towards strangers and they accept her as one of the “home folks”—all except Ann Haskel. whose word is law in Pine Knob Diane, nevertheless, is fascinated by Ann about whom she has heard conflicting stones of generosity and hardness. The mountain woman seems to be avoiding Diane, but her good-for-nothing stepson, Jeff Todd, follows the artist everywhere. Ann has a son of her own, John Herbert Haskel. whom she sent away years ago, following the death of her first husband. Diane’s best friends among the mountaineers are “Uncle Jimmie” and "Aunt Josie” Cartwright who have prom- ; ised to protect her from the annoying Jeff. One day, Ann comes upon Diane painting in Shady Creek Valley and brusquely asks: “What be you a-doin’ hyear?” Diane apologizes for trespassing, j Ann’s demeanor changes immediately and she says: “You're welcome. I got sense to see you ain’t ! a-hurtin’ nobody.” Seeming to relax j and grow more friendly, Ann coni sides in Diane that, while the people of the woods are better than the society folk at the Lodge, still the backwoods would be no place to raise young folks who could be something if given a chance. Diane realizes that the mountain woman was revealing more of her life than she intended and the girl's heart went out to her. CHAPTER IX. The younger woman wanted to . speak of the boy that Ann Haskel had sent away no one knew where nor why. But before she could find words the other said, harshly: “Hit’s a cryin’ shame fer a body what’s had your chance to be a-doin’ sich triflin' play-work as this hyear pitcher-paintin’. If I had a gal like you I’d sure make out fer her to know how to do somethin’ that war real.” Diane launched again into a defense of her art. “Hit all sounds purty to hyear you a-tellin’ hit But can’t nobody cat a pitcher, can they? Can’t nobody wear ’em. A pitcher of a cow couldn’t give no milk. You can’t 1 harvest no cawn from a pitcher of a cawnficld. A pitcher fire wouldn’t warm a body if they was freezin’. Hit don’t make no difference how hard you work at hit you can’t never make a pitcher real. Hit’s all jest make-believe. You jest natchally can’t paint these hyear woods like they be. You’re bound to leave out the song of the birds an’ the smell of the trees an’ bresh an’ ferns. You can’t paint the rustlin’ of the leaves an’ the feel of the sun an’ wind into no pitcher. I like to deal with things that air real. I want my woods like Gawd-a-mighty made ’em. I don’t want no make-be-lieve woods with all the life left out.” “But, Mrs. Haskel, you believe in education, don’t you? Isn’t the world of books and music and art and—and thought—isn’t it all a? real as the world you know about?” “Education is what a body makes of hit,” retorted the other, stubbornly. “Folks what’s got education air all kinds, same as them what ain’t. Look at you Lodge folks. You'uns got education, an’ what be you? That man I was a-tellin’ you ! 'bout, he war educated too, an’ couldn’t nobody help believin' in sich as him. He sure warn’t no triflin’ pretender. He did things like a man ought.” “What did your friend do?” asked Diane, quickly. “Tell me about j him. Perhaps I have heard of him. Perhaps my father knew him.” Ann Haskel rose hurriedly to her feet. “I got to be a-goin',” she said, harshly. “Can’t stay hyear all day a-triflin’ with you. I got real work I do.” With this she crossed to the opposite side of the glade and disappeared behind some bushes which hid a pocket-like hollow in the side of the mountain. A moment later ; she reappeared, riding the big bay 1 horse. “What a beautiful horse!” Diane exclaimed. “I have often admired him from a distance " The mountain woman halted close - beside the artist, and the horse, putting down his head nudged the

WEDDING UKuV* Here's a packet of eight Inter.- * lor June The titles are. I,s H «t!\ 1. Engagement Etiquette 6. M ;irn JyEjF w 3. Travel Etiquette 7 ||„ u . WHH 4. Cooking for Two s. , £ If you want a packet conutnln. th , ~ —— coupon below and send for It; "“W r \ • CLIP COUPON ;ii | U .. [lUSil J Dept. JB I, Washington Bureau, DECATUR na CtsHTt 1322 New York Avenue. Wa.hmoto, r tt P 1 * 1 * I want tile packet of eight hull, 1 ~ ' 7*• HHH ' enclose herewith twenty-five cents in , 1 forma! 1 order or postage stumps, to cover retur “ *‘4 l nl*W Se V.me gu N1 X E r,' 1 am a reader of the iKeulur l ulv 1 *.wla 01 — fta line

girl’s shoulder with his nose. Diane laughed as she patted and fondled the animal’s head and neck. “I believe he likes me,” she cried, in almost childish delight, and laid her cheek against the white blazed forehead. Suddenly she looked up at the rider’s face, startled by what she had heard. Ann Haskel had actually laughed aloud—a low queer sort of chuckle it was, but there was no mistaking it “Don’t you be fooled," she said. “Billy he’s only pretendin’. He’s a-hopin’ mebbe you’ll feed him somethin’ he likes. You see, he’s a man boss an’ jest natchally knows how to git ’round a woman. If you war a man, now, he wouldn’t pay you a mite more ’tention than if you was a rock or a bush. He's alius a-makin’ believe he likes me—tryin’ to make a fool out of me. Mostly he does hit, too, ’cause he’s ’bout

The people of the Lodge were making desperate

the only livin’ thing 1 know what even pretends with me that away." “I should tike to paint him,” said Diane. “Won’t you let me make a picture of him for you? I don't mean for money,” she added, impulsively, “but just because —well—because I'd love to do it.” “W r hat would I want a pitcher of Billy for when I got him? I couldn’t ride no pitcher of a hoss. Hit wouldn’t talk to me ncr he'p me git 'round, ner rub his haid ag'in’ me like he’s a-doin’ to you right now.” “Oh, but you’re very fond of Billy, aren’t you?” “Hit stands to reason I’d be. He's a good hoss. We been together a long time, too.” “Well, if anything should happen to make you lose him, wouldn’t i you like a picture of him to—to help you remember him?” “Thar ain’t nothin’ goin’ to happen to make me lose Billy ever,” the mountain woman returned, grimly. “I aim to keep hiyn right with me always. Ain’t nobody ever goin’ to take him away. He's only a hoss, . but he means as much to me as if be war human.” , “But what if he were to die?” “If Billy war to die I reckon I'd jest have to git me another hoss in his place,” returned Ann Haskel. slowly. That hard, uncompromising look settled like a dark shadow over her face as she continued, harshly: “But thar’s some things, miss, what can’t nothin’ ever take the place of —not to satisfy. I mean.” Again Diane thought of Ann Haskel's son and of Jeff Todd, whom she had raised in her own boy’s place. The mountain woman went on in a dreary monotone: “When a body can't have what they want they take what they can git. don’t they? When you can't do what you want, you do what you can. All my life I been a-puttin’ up with what I could git an' a-doin' what 1 had to. Thank ye kindly fer your offer, miss, but you couldn't paint no pitcher of my hoss fer me You couldn’t never know him well enough I raised him

;in* ««« f r l - 1 ” r lm ; secretu --d ucu the C * i.u.c Hilly hissc'f. \l Whalen. u - -• • 1 | «v»l’ -2- ' • A a ’’ Jest. *•' • • 1 presW* Diane stood at lurt Mr ’N ■ prawn ha 1 , worth ; 1 r ha.] p daytn . . again, £ 1- P , aceoi Miss H On a fair d»y oat* r plajrK !l ' Thin.” '••• •«•. in -

ii-d : itself somewhere I Ja< hills. 1' .t today tti sa lay I a SOU ■" ta.n ■ .-ar-.e :ssS *r, 1 fore.-t . ' ‘ “Kit, gho-:.. , . Cl The . hie H Th- s • - drii>. . rain. . kso “ The people of tli U 1 orati n.al. • y • ’ '■* Wm themselvi It *u.dM -Tis more befi re lunche y. ,t !h. f**« »e 8 mering i • some or l>oc Some 1 r.e as moaMC 0 Mn and ci ? r :: 7™ »U-d the same « ful \, v . loosed a ;au ercheSlJ ■ jungle r adness. *r.ick" ■ rupted howls, ui ..rthlyscreitt* C1 shriek-, a: !otherde®% po! Diane had tried notMfl, gracioi. y ' *• cepted te.i :nends *2; the cm a that sbe * J.J freedom for her won.**' herself no th ‘JAl F catior.i.' She I and I" 0 ’ - a ," d -/"-Si I danced . pl f L jVai I Hards, and was beWJ Isl sport- - ■ ■ know. I ' nee■ a bit touched on the. I But the nrl cou ‘ d “;:„ herself the truth -r.a- Ihc Jimmie had I ’nough one of tbrt «> It is true, too, tea*. wu ■ pt ;: : th r!fl ■ pleasure -‘nod l u> * * w | M Sf thi. younc ~«SS rn by their standards j A do nothing, but who ■ ing to some purpose' infl |htc Omni I'd