Evening Republican, Volume 14, Number 80, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 4 April 1910 — Page 2

*h*n |lt« hla uf«li charm Om thM la all thy ways. I Tbough the thunders roam at large. Though the lightning round mo plays. Xdke a child I lay my head te sweet sleep upon my bod. Aough the terror comes so cl«^ It shall have no power to smite! It shall deepen my repose. Turn the darkness Into light Touch of angels’ hand is sweet; Wot a stone shall hurt my feet All thy waves and billows go Over me to press me down Into arms so strong. I know They will never let me drown. Ah, my God, how good thy will! I will nestle and be still. "—Alice Freeman Palmer.

THE RETURN

Philip Graham, coming to the end •f long pages of blue parchment, foldad them mechanically and tied them WP with pink tape. He rang the bell •n his desk. "Stimson,” he said as his clerk entered, "ask Miss Kennet if she will Please come to me.” A few moments later a girl entered the room. . . “Miss Kennet," he said, "will you ■rind looking through some papers for He had risen to his feet, and a queer laok flashed to her eyes. For an instant her lip quivered. “Oh. why won’t yon forget that I wag ever anything but your secretary r she said. He bit his lip. “Yon know why.” he said, half un«er his breath; “but I—l will not forget again.” He picked up his keys, and striding •cross the room unlocked a Japanned tin box marked “D.” Gladys Kennet turned over the papers In the box. Her head was begin•lng to ache, but then It liad ached ■uny, many times since her father

“WHY WON’T YOU FORGET?”

tied —nearly two years ago, and she •oght to have grown used to it now. Her thoughts stopped abruptly with ■ shock. She stared down wildly, with the color driving from face. She clutched a faded newspaper cutting with fingers growing cold. 'A. marriage has been arranged, and will shortly take place, between Lieut. Reginald Llndley and Miss Gladys KenMet, only daughter of Col. Kennet of fctlbetone hall.” The paper dropped to the floor. The Kwyer’s room, with Its japanned tin lies, whizzed wildly around her. What mockery It had been! Only a few days after that paragraph had apJjeared her father had died, bankrupt, and she had been left penniless and alone. In less than a week Reginald scad gone too, and If It had not been lor Philip—Philip whom she had despised for being her father’s solicitor — the would have been—what? The sob in her throat refused to be choked back. Her heart beat up loudly, persistently, a drumming sounded In her ears, and her head dropped suddenly, sharply amongst the dusty papers. Philip started quickly to his feet and tan across the room. “Gladys—Miss Rennet] " Ghe tried to struggle to her feet. “It is silly of me," she said unsteadily. “I—l—ought tp have forgotten by now.” He pushed her gently back and took Per hands In his. “Miss Kennet—Gladys—let me help jrou to forget,” he said huskily. “You know I love you—you know I loved iron long before—long before that happened.” She passed her hands across her •yes as though to clear them, and then looked into his. “I don’t know,” she said in a whisEr. “You have been so good to me at sometimes I think that if—if i could be sure that Reginald would ■ever come back I could love you as much—as I once loved him.” “Let me try to make you,” he said eagerly. “Gladys, darling, if you can •nly give me half your heart I shall Pe content.” Bhe put out her hands to him with Per eyes full of tears. “Look, Philip, look,” she cried. She Kew up the sash and they both ked out on the busy market square. “Look!” Gladys repeated. “It is the ping Reginald gave me, and I have Pone witt him now forever.” She raised her arm and flung the from her far out in the square. She turned to Philip breathless and lWhite. “f have done with him now forever,” pbe whispered.

He seat her away early. “I shall come after you soon, dsr> Hm" he said, “and well go and dine somewhere and have the evening to gether.” After she had gone he sat still, dreaming at hla desk. He lifted hla head quickly as the door 1 opened and hla clerk entered with a card In his hand. He it carelessly In his fingers. The card dropped from his clutch and lay staring at him from the desk. “Reginald Llndley." » “Send him in,” he Bald, and during the few moments that elapsed before Reginald came, he sat like a dead man, dumb, motionless, cold. L The door was swung open. —. "Hello, Graham! How are you, I say? Great Scott! I believe you’ve been poring over those papers ever since I was here last. You look Just the same, only dustier.” Philip rose slowly to his feet. He was cold—horribly cold, and his heart seemed to be lying dead and heavy In his chest. ,

“You are a Btranger,” he said with difficulty. “I thought we should never see you in Rochmlnster again, and you can’t wonder gt my surprise.” Reginald laughed. "No, I suppose not,” he said; "and upon my word, I don’t think I ever could have come hack only—only I chanced to hear a bit of news.” Reginald sauntered ‘slowly across the room and back, whipping his stick against his boot “Graham, how and where is Miss Kennet?” he asked abruptly. Philip flinched as Reginald’s stick had struck his face. ‘‘l heard that she was still here, and that you had given her employment,” Reginald went on, “and I came hero on purpose to see her.” “I suppose you think I behaved badly,” the lieutenant went on, “and I suppose I did, but I couldn’t help myself. When her father died penniless, it was Impossible for me to marry her, for I had scarcely enough money for myself, and so I thought the kindest thing was to go away without saying anything. But now that there fs a chance of her having some money, after all, It is altogether different, for I am fond of her, you know, Graham." Philip had looked up with a start. “She has no money,” he said hoarseiy.

Reginald nodded his head eagerly. “Not yet, old man,” he said lightly, but she will have. I happened on an old boy out in Australia who's going to leave her some. He is the colonel’s brother and her uncle, and he’s pretty nearly gone. I gave him all particulars about her, and It will be all right. The old buffer Isn’t married, and there’s nobody else for him to leave it tff. And he thinks Gladys and I are still engaged—as, in fact, we are—and that we are only waiting for a little money to get married. I explained it all to him”—he laughed and winked at Philip—“and now his sole anxiety is to die and oblige us. Where is Miss Kennet, Graham?” Philip was white to the lips now. “She is at home,” he said with difficulty. “She left early. She—she—lodges with Mrs. Caley in Stone street." He turned away. His one wish now was that Reginald would go quickly. He could not stand much more. “Oh, all right. Anybody would think you were jealous of me! Well, good-bye." v The door (dosed and for long Philip stood still in the middle of the room staring at it. Stimkm opened the door. “Did you call, sir?” “No, no,” said Philip hastily. “No, that is all. You can go” ' He heard the preparations for departure, but he still sat before his desk without making any attempt to put his papers away. He wondered what Gladys would do now— His thoughts broke off and unconsciously he stiffened himself. Someone had come into the outer office! A clerk had forgotten something evidently; he hoped he wouldn’t want anything of him. Steps sounded—quick steps, that ran, and then the door was flung open and dashed to again, and a breathless figure whirled itself across the room and dropped on its knees at his Bide. “Philip—Philip—Philip! Look np. 1 want you more than ever. I love you better —a thousand times better than I ever loved Reginald. Oh, Philip, my dearest, I’ve just seen him and I know.”—Cassell’s Journal. It la Not Always Possible to Save. The majority of the old ask nothing of society, but this very fact should make the support of society to those who do need its aid, more immediate and willing. There are many who through misfortune are left in age bereft of money and of their natural supporters, says Walter Weyl. in Success Magazine. A bank may fail, an employe abscond, a business panic arrive, an error of judgment or an unwise act of generosity may strip a man or woman of the savings of a life-time, such a man may lie ill and the savings of years go in a month’s doctor’s bills. The sudden slaying of a husband in an industrial accident may leave the wife deprived of expected support.

And not all men can save. Some are honest and hard-working, but have not the knack of getting and holding. They are marble to receive and wax to retain. Others do not marry, or marry and have no children!; or they lose their children in early infancy. Family bonds afe moral. There are always men who through no fault of their own are left naked and alone In their old age.

Policemen, like rainbows, are tokens of peace, usually appearing after a storm.

Little Laughs

Eathmlaum Dolled. “Don’t you feel as if you would like to leave footprints In the sands of time?” asked the ambitious citizen. “No,” answered Mr. Crosslots, gloomily; “out where I live the mud\ is eighteen inches deep, and I don’t feel as if I wanted to see another footprint as long as I live.”—Washington Star. A# Advertiser. “Why do you constantly permit reports of your death to go out?” “Because,” answered the Moroccan bandit, “I want my name In print, and those are the only reports I can get past the press censor.”—Washington Star. Endorsing; Hla Wot*.

For. The village cornetist, who made his living as a barber, was massaging a patron's face. That’s a peculiar way of massaging a nose,” remarked the man in the chair. “Some New York method?” “That? Oh, no. I was Just practicing the fingering of the Second Hungarian Rhapsody.”—Puck. Still Higher Finance. “Surely,” began the private secretary, “it won’t pay to give to both parties.” “My dear fellow,” replied the astute president, “you are forgetting that in a year or two one of them will be offering me a rebate not to support the other.'”— Puck. Then He Said Good-Nl s l,(. Mr. Boreum Gude —When I was a kid I used to ring doorbells and then run away. Miss Kutting Hintz—And now you ring them and stay. Cruel. "If I were to tell you all I know,” he commented, sagely. “I should not be any wiser than I am now," she replied, tersely.—Detroit Free Press. Making the Best of It. Theatrical Manager—Hi, there! What are you doing with that pistol? Discouraged Lover —Going to kill myself.

AH ARISTOCRATIC BEGGAR.

Even a beggar may have pride—at least in Mexico. At a railroad station in that country, says W. E. Carson in his book, "Mexico,” he noticed, standing a little removed from the motley throng of mendicants, a melancholylooking Mexican, wearing a rather battered brown felt sombrero, his limbs encased in skin-tight trousers of thin gray cloth, adorned with numerous patches. Over his shoulders was a bright red blanket. He was strumming away at an old-fashioned mandolin and singing some mournful Spanish song.

Catching sight of me, he stopped playing and lifted his sombrero. I went out on the car platform and handed him 5 cents. To my astonishment, he politely declined my humble ottering. "Senor,” said he, in choice Spanish, with some emotion, “you must pardon me for being unable to accept your gift, but I am a 10-cent beggar, senor, and never, never accept a smaller gratuity.” Drawing himself up with an air of pride, he continued, “I shall be honored to sing for your entertainment a song of old Spain or one of our noble Mexican airs, but always for a fee of TO cents, never for less, for I am a 10-cent beggar, senor, poor as I am.” It was impossible to resist this touching protest, so with an apology I handed the courtly vagrant his prop»r fee, which he acknowledged with “a thousand thanks” and a graceful bow. At the other end of the car the mob of beggars were scrambling for copper coins thrown to them by my fellow passengers. The melancholy minstrel glanced at them, shrugged his shoulders, and waved his hand deprccatlngly. “Ah, senor,” he observed, “those poor people! l They have to work hard to earn their bread; good folk, worthy lolk. well deserving of your charity;

M on reversible. Long—Didn’t you tell me that you made yourself solid with Mrs. Vane by asking her If she was herself or her daughter—couldn’t tell them apart, and so on? Strong—l did. What about it? Long—l tried the same game with the daughter, and It didn’t go at all! Badly Scared. § “The seismograph is acting very strangely, professor.” “Don’t mind it. All the trolley poles and power houses In the country are shaking over the story of the Edison storage battery.” Cleveland Plain Dealer.* Poor Sister. Young Man—Do you think your sister would be sorry to marry and leave you ? The Terror—Oh, yes. She said she would have been married long ago If It hadn’t been for me.—Judge. Minister, Then Jodge. She (coyly)—lt takes two to make a bargain, you know. He —Yes, but it only takes one to break It all to smash again.—Boston Herald. Losing Ills Nerve. Bus Driver—Ain’t yer satisfied with runnin’ over people? Yer wants to run over the ’osses now! Taxi Driver (Indignantly)—l haven’t run over anybody for a long time. Bus Driver—What! Are you gittin’ nervous? —London Opinion. Realized the Danger. He—Now that we are married, pet, do you love me enough to cook for me? She—Enough, darling? "“I love you entirely too much for that,—Boston Transcript. Proof. Wright—What makes you think the mail facilities have greatly Improved? Penman —Because I get m’y manuscripts back from the editors quicker than I used to.—Yonkers Statesman Unexpected Success.

Young Architect—This is a deuce of a profession. Here I drew up plans for a conservatory of music, and they used it for a cheese factory. Old Architect— Don’t let that fret you, my boy—you simply builded stronger than you knew.

One of the Htnhome Ones. First Fair Invalid—Which kind of doctor do you prefer—the allopathic or the homeopathic? Second Fair Invalid —I prefer the sympathetic.

but they give you a very bad impression of Mexico. Pray, senor, do not class them with poor musicians like myself." With these words he commenced twanging his discordant instrument again, and once more burst into a song so dismal that it seemed to make the gloomy weather even more depressing.

MAKING LOVE IN PORTUGAL.

E «vly Stages o t Courtship Are Romantle and Pletureaqne. The most important event In the life of a Portuguese woman is marriage, says Leslie’s Weekly. Next in importance are the early days of courtship, for a Portuguese courtship is the essence of romance, and the ways of the Portuguese lover are singularly picturesque. Here is a little drama in which Cupid is stage director. If a young Portuguese sees In the street a pretty girl with whom he would like to become acquainted, he follows her. Chaperons are not impossible obstructions. He follows her right up to her very door and notes the address. Next day he comes again, and if the young lady approves of him —for she certanly saw him the day before—she Is on the lookout. Sometimes hard fate in the guise of an angry parent prevents her, and then the gallant youth is kept waiting. Sooner or later she leans over the balcony and smiles at him. The happy youth ties a note to a cord whieffi the fair lady drops from the balcony. The next day the young man comes again. This time he rings at the door. If the inquiries which the young lady's elders have made prove satisfactory, the swain is admitted to make the acquaintance of the young lady. After that, courtship in Portugal Is about the same as It is in Kankakee or Kal•mawa—

The Danish farmers, living as they do on or near the seacoast, are great exporters of dairy stuff. England is so big a customer that the Danes in fun reproach their neighbors with eating

How Danish Farmers Prosper.

Aerial Nourishment. “Orchids live on air,” said the botanist. “I don’t know about that," replied young Mr. Flimm. “But If I keep on buying them. I’ll have to.”—Washington Star. Expecting Too Much. “Has your wife got a cook?” “How do I know?” “It seems to me that you should know if anyone should.” “But I haven’t been home since noon.”—Houston Post. Bird of the Past. Museum Attendant (perfunctorily)— This Is the pterodactylus crossirostris. It Is now extinct. Grouchy Bachelor—Same old story, I suppose. Got to using them on women’s hats, didn’t they?—Puck. Acquiring a Graceful Carriage.

“Tote it on yer head, Mary. Dey say it gives a woman a awful graceful carriage.” Labor Saving 1 . Servant (breaking vase) —Ah! That’s lucky f It’s broken only in three pieces. , Mistress—Well, you must be mad to call that luck. Servant —You don’t have to pick up the pieces, ma’am. —Bon Vivant. 'i A Slam. "Her husband is either afraid of her or very much in love with her.” “Why so?” "When they go out together he never thinks of standing out on the rear platform of the car to finish his cigar.”—Detroit Free Press. Eminent Collectors. “Noah had a shipload of specimens of all kinds of creatures,” said one small boy. “Yes,” replied the other. “He was the Theodore Roosevelt of his day.”— Washington Star. Wine Child. Papa—Bobbie, what do you want for your birthday present? Bobbie —Get me a bank mamma can’t take nickels out of with a hatpin. Usually. Teacher—Where do the sponges come from? Bright pupil—From the noble families of Europe.—Philadelphia Press.

up their butter, and leaving them only oleomargarin. “Yet,” says F. M. Butlin in “Among the Danes,” “they are not all of that way of thinking, for one old farmer asked us if we could not persuade our fellow countrymen to eat butter with their cake.

If you ask how the Danish farmers manage to keep pace with our [the British] Increasing appetite for Danish eggs, butter and bacon, the answer is, they co-operate. The butter which is exported is made in their co-opera* tive dairies. The pigs are sdain in their co-operative slaughter houses, and the Dines are not a little proud of the process. One distinguished traveler complains that during his stay in Denmark he was always being asked to come and see a pig killed. “The eggs are exported by co-opera-tive societies. If a Dane has only one egg he can export It—always provided It be a good egg. No mistake must be made about that. Before the eggs are packed for export, down In the cooperative factory on the shore, they ar9 held over a basin filled with electric light, when all defects chn be detected with the naked eye. It is no use for an old egg to pose as a young one then. Each egg is marked with the owner’s number and the number of his district; the owners of bad eggs are fined. No less than 18,000 Danes belong to this one society. Here, too, butter Is packed Ibr the English market”

Baths for Cold Feet.

Those who suffer from habitual cold feet should take an alternate hot and cold foot bath morning and evening. Soak the feet in hot water at a temperature of about 108 degrees or 110 degrees for two or three minutes, then dip them in cold water for half a minute, then back into the hot water for another two-or three minutes, and continue alternating five or six times, finally drying the feet from the cold water. \ This will stimulate the circulation and produce a glow of warmth in the feet, that will be maintained for hours afterward. L

KILLED WITHOUT HITTING.

Daniel Boone Was a Wonderful Marksman and Never Missed. As a small boy Tip heard an old gentleman, upward of 100, tell about seeing Daniel Boone, and about some of his mighty doings when this old gentleman himself was a small boy, according to the New York Times. He said that Boone was a very large man, something over six feet, deep-chested, very heavy shouldered, but Was small In the belly, with long, thin, strong legs, large, hard hands and feet and Iron gray hair .and hazel eyes, very large and with sights always opening and shutting, working actively like tho nervous pupil of the eye of a game rooster. Boone was passing through from a trip out West and had with him only his hatchet, hunting knife and rifle and was without dogs or companions. He had only a coonskin cap, buckskin hunting shirt down to his knees, high laced cowskln moccasins and no pants or underclothes. His rifle was as tall as Boone himself and very heavy, with a long, thin, white hickory ramrod. This old man had been a hunter all his life and said the rifle was the biggest and heaviest he had ever seen.

The gfeat thing was to see Boone shoot. Boone, without taking a rest, hit a spot every time as big as a man’s hat at 200 yards, aiming very slowly and deliberately, for that was long her fore the days of cartridges and. quick snap-shooting. Boone at forty or fifty yards “barked” two squirrels, then an* unheard-of marvel, though common enough now. He hit the bark of the tree right under wlfere the squirrel was sitting crouching, and when the rifle said "pop” Mr. Squirrel was blown up into the air five or six feet, and picked up stone dead without 30 much as a scratch on him. Killing a tough old fox Bquirrel without a bullet touching him or drawing a drop of blood looked like a big magic or witchcraft to early settlers and Indians. <

Boone drove a nail or two and showed how he loaded his gun. He had a small powder horn filled with finest grain powder about as hard and clean from smut as the best modern; a little hollow powder measure made of elderwood, such as boys make whistles of. An he showed how he gauged his powder by laying the rifle bullet in the palm of his hand, then pouring on powder until the bullet was just exactly hid in the pile of powder. This was the right load, so he cut his elder to this measure. After pouring the powder down the barrel he laid a piece of greased linen patching of finest, smothest homespun over the end, and forced It down the barrel with the butt end of his knife, cut off the patch ing sticking out, then shoved the bullet home ufith the ramrod—a hard, tight job. With a quick jerk of the wrist he would pack tight the bullet and powder and drive so hard that the ramrod almost jumped out of the gun on the rebound.

Boone’s rifle stock was the shortest and most angularly curved of any in the village. And this same Daniel Boone stock, seen for the first time by the old gentleman, has now been adopted as a world model by all armies and manufactories. As a matter of fact, some of the finest Yankee wholesale manufacturers deliberately copied thi Kentucky rifle stock as their model, as Dr. Norvin Green, the organizer and first president of the Western Union Telegraph Company, long ago told.

The Wrong and the Right Way.

Some people think that a sort of deceptive diplomacy is necessary to popularity; but if there is any quality which is absolutely essential, it is sincerity. Nothing else will take Its place. There is no reason why we should pretend to be interested in another, says Orison Swett Marden in Success Magazine. We should be interested in him. It Is much easier to be really interested, to know about a person, Ms occupation, his hobby, the things that interest him, than to pretend to be, Just for effect. Pretense, deception and shams aTe fatal, because, if there is anything a person demands of another it is genuineness, sincerity, and the moment he finds that a person is only pretending to be interested in him, he loses his confidence, and confidence is the foundation of everything. Nobody wants to hear another vaporize, palaver and pretend; nobody wants to feel that he is the victim of a social diplomat who is trying to cover up his real self, pretending an interest in him,. just as a ward politician feigns an interest in voters just before election. We all demand absolute sincerity, genuineness. People will very quickly penetrhte masks. They can easily tell when anyone is shamming.

An Insinuating Missive.

He was a German student, and this was the letter he addressed to his uncle: “Dear Uncle—A very strange thing happened yesterday. I went to see a friend of mine at the bank who knows your handwriting very well, and he thought you were ill, as I had not lately presented any checks signed by you. He begs to be remembered to yon, as also do I, and you might let my friend see your signature again. If you are very busy, you might send a blank fheck, and I will fill it in. Yours affectionately, KARL.”

It is Baid that most suicides regret it afteT swallowing the-fatal dtwe—just as some men do after getting married. It is as Important to learn that you can’t always have your way as it is to learn arithmetic. A man can have most of his vices overlooked by inheriting a fortune.