Evening Republican, Volume 14, Number 104, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 2 May 1910 — Page 2

A BOOTum WlUiest, the rumbl* of th* street. The fin re of lamps, the fall of rain; Tlthlq, the firelight and the best Of drops sualnst the window pan*. Tour thin gown rustles ns you rise; Tou cross th* room; you touch th* keys, Th* outer uproar and theories Fade as the drone of passing bens. I dose my eyes; the night roll* by. The dead, dark years are rent and torn; Tbetr crimson flecks the emerald sky; A silver star shines In the morn. No earth there }s, but heaven, the star. And glowing clouds whoso perfect * hue Is fairer that) the sky they bar; Life's dawn lit up by the love of you. Above thO| crescent song of Day The morning star sings once again. Ths mists of years are rolled away; Hope rises whence she long has tatn. • • • • • The sweet notes die along the night; The outer uproar suddenly Swells In the room; the fire’s warm light Shines on your white face turned to me. —A, It ‘He .Speaker.

CELESTE’S CHANCE

It was the lamb chops that began It. “Mother simply must have them," Celeste had said, with her crooked little smile, that was half pathos. She counted the money In the small pocketbock, and looked thoughtful. “It means that you and 1 will have soup again, ’Tttla," she decided, "I'll get a bone with a lot of meat on it, anu a choice collection of vegetables, and if It is a cold day It will be all tight, won't lti Letltla tried to respond with enthusiasm, but failed. "We have soup so often!” ahe murniured. Just thca from the next room came a tired voice: “Girls, If you are planning my dinner, I don't want anything but toast and tea." "0 dear, she heard!” and Celeste ■ltd down from the couch and limped to the door. “Mother, deary," she said, "wo shalL be rich to-morrow, when letltla gets paid for her music lessons." The little white lady, propped up gmofifc her pillows, smiled at the slender maiden with the crown of red*gold puffs. "Yes, and then you will buy bints for me. But 1 sha'n't let you." Celeste smiled her qrooked smile, ■ "You are like a bird yourself," she evaried. "If I were Muffles, I should eat you,” and she smoothed the great yellow cat, which lay like a spot of gold on the white cover. “Ah, Muffles"—the little while lady touched the soft head with her thin fingers- I —"he Is fat and lazy, but he loves me— —" “Everybody loves you," said Celeste, “and It’s too had that you have to be eo much alone. But I am so slow about things •” “Yes. my deary,” said her mother, pitifully, for Celeste's crooked smile was not the only crooked thing about her. There was the turned foot that made the little limp. “I wish I could do something besides housework,” Celeste confided, ns she and her sister ate a frugal luncheon of bread and Jelly on the kitchen table “If only I had some of your brilliancy, Tltla, dear." “You have a dozen talents in one." Letltla held her bread delicately In the tips of her long white fingers. She was tall and her hair was golden. Even In her shabby suit of gray she was exceedingly good to look at, and Celeste adored her. "You have a dozen talents,” she repealed, "if only you had a chance to develop them." If she only had a chance! Celeste thought about It as she made her limping way through the frosty streets to the provision shop. There did not seem to he much Chance for a girl with a limp and a crooked smile. If her father had lived, she might have learned to paint; that was the dream of her life-Mo paint as well as Letltla played. But there had been a friend of her mother's to teach Letltla. and no one had offered such an opportunity to Celeste. She sighed as she neared the little shop with the shabby sign, which read; C, Smith. Staple and Fancy Groceries and Meats. Vegetables, Fish and Oysters In Season. C. Smith was a chubby little man. who did not seem to get along very well In the wotjd. People were apt to pass the shop wtth the shabby sign for the more pretentious stores up the street. But Celeste liked him because #f his cheery smile, and because his meats were very fresh and very good. “But he doesn't know how to display bis wares." she thought, as she glanced toward the-little window, where everything was higgledy-piggledy. Her artist's soot revolted at the fly-speckled er»eker'boxe*|, the left-over vegetables, the tipsy signs. _ The lamb chops, however, warn kept ttt a whlfeeflTed refrigerator, and the meat-block and knives and C. Smith's own apron were tut clean as posrlb!**, “1 want another soup bone,” Olesfe stated, and amtted bar crooked smile, *lt probably seems to you that we are living on soup." C. Smith smiled back. “I know it Is i-o he s good soup,*' he remarked ] "Tbs vary sound of tbs vegetables* as

you say them over is different from th# way other people do It. You use red peppers and okra, don’t you?” “Yes. I had ths receipt from my grandomothcr. She called It creole soup. I believe cooking Is my only talent.” “vital 1, my talent Is cutting meat," C. Smith confided, as he wrapped up the parcels. "I don't seen/to succeed much at anything else,, Nobody would come here If It wasn't that I have the best meat. And as It Is, most of my trade Is leaving me—and I don’t see why.” j Celeste sat down on a box to talk. The limping little foot was tired, and she usually rested before she began the long walk home. "Well, maybe you are like me," she said. "I am sixteen, and I haven’t had my chance." “But I am three times sixteen," said C. Smith, thoughtfully, "and I am a man. It seems as if I ought to know how to work up trade." Celeste’s eyes wandered to tfie untidy window. "If you wouldn't mind a suggestion," she said, hesitatingly. "Not a bit,” said C. Smith, briskly, and sat down on another box. “Well, If you would fix up your window ’’ "I know," C. Smith agreed, “what you mean. But I haven't a bit of an Idea about things like that. And there’s mother. She lives over the store, but she has no Ideas, either —not about fixing up—and there you are.” "Maybe If you would Jiißt take out those cracker-boxes and ' put In fresh fruit and vegetables every day,” Celeste suggested. “Maybe it would help," he agreed, with enthusiasm; and Celeste, having rested the limping foot, went home and put on the soup to boll. It was really a very good soup. Lctitla admitted that. "You always manage to give it u distinct ilavor,” she said, as the two girls sat together at the little table, In the halo of soft lamplight. “Even the soup bone tastes like more expensive meat.” Their mother added her commendation when she drunk a cup of 11, strained, and Muffles, feasting on soup meat, expressed Ills feelings in an appreciative “Purr-up!” On the strength of their approbation, Celeste carried a pitcher of the soup the next morning to C. Smith. “I thought you and youi mother might

"I HAVEN'T HAD MY CHANCE.”

like It," she said, "and everybody can’t make It.” Smith flushed with pleasure. "You come right up and see mother," he said, so Celeste climbed the stairway haltingly, nnd came Into the bright room above. C. Smith’s mother warmed the soup at once. "Charles will like It for his lunch," she quavered, with a smile that matched C. Smith’s own for (1: eeriness. And presently, when Celeste went down-stairs, the owner of the shojv said to her, "How do you like the window?" Celesto looked at It, somewhat dubiously. The fly-speckled cracker boxes were ■tone, but the fresh fruit and Vegetables were la a Jumbled muss that did not tempt the eye. "It Is better," she said, "hut It Isn't best:" "I know," C. Smith admitted, "but somehow I haven’t the hang of that sort of thing” Celeste lmd an inspiration. "If you will let me come early In the mornlug' she said, “before many people are cn the street, I will fix It for you." "I couldn't trouble you,” he protested. but the look In his eyes said, "I wish you would." "It wouldn't be any trouble,” Celeste Insisted. "I could sit on the boxand direct you. And 1 am under a lot of obligations to you. You always give me more meat on the soup bone than just a dime's worth, nnd yesterday 1 saw' the prices on the okra In other windows, slid you couldn’t possibly have afforded to give me all that you did for a nickel." He flushed at that. "Oh, I wanted lo do it," he said, simply. “1 gueiS a man ha« n right to do as he pleases." "So has u woman," said Celeste, with her crooked smile,"and I’ll be here very early In the morning.” The west day people coming along the vijlnge street stopped.to gaze Into 0. Smith's window. There was nothing there but pumpkins and pineapple;. But the pumpkins were terraced In even rows, and between each pumpkin was placed symmetrically ,n pineapple, and the gold of the pumpkins and the russet and dull green of the pineapples were matched by the tints of the autumn leaves which framed the window. (' Smith sold all the pumpkins and all the pineapples, and the next mornJrijf people again stopped and stared, JO heboid a great block of ice. hollowed *0 hold a quart or more of luscious oysters. , . -A wreath of green hid the shallow pan In which the ICe was placed: ben rood thd# was another wreath of celery, while flanking the whole, boxes of crackers and IxritJes of catsup and *#oc*s suggested tb« appropriate ac"nofwnitnent to such a fpast, C. Smith had a run that day on sea

foods, and the next week the housekeepers flocked to see a triangle of green peppers outlined with a vivid lltie of fed txippers, while behind them was an orderly row of yopng cabbages, each topped by a tomato. A little sign told the housekeepers that now was the time for making pickles, and that a choice receipt for such pickles wpuld go with each order of vegetables. The receipt was written on cards In Celeste’s neat hand, and C. Smith told her radiantly that night that everything was sold. "But I don’t see what you are making out of It,” he said. “I am having the fun,”- said Celeste. "I like, to think of the window work as a study In still life. And 1 like to know that I can attract custom; it gives me n sense of power.” But C. Smith was thinking, and the next day, he made a suggestion. "Look here," he said, "you make some of your creole soup. Lots of my customers would like to have It. I can toll them that you will have it here hot In porcelain palls at twelve o’clock. You ought to earn something that way." And that was the beginning of C. Smith's delicatessen department and ,qf Celeste's success. And when, the day before Thanksgiving, the wonderful window was gorgeous with Its circle of crimson cranberries. Us gold of lemons and oranges, Celeste's masterpiece, a great roast turkey, stuffed with chestnuts and laid on a blue platter, had the place of honor. As the business grew, she hired a helper, and the creole soup, delectable little pots of baked beans and baked ham were served on alternate days. C. Smith took In a bright boy to wait on the customers who thronged the counter. There was no fly-speckled untidiness, and although Celeste was rarely In evidence, her influence was over It all. C. Smith even swung a new sign In the {dace of the shabby one, and prosperity reigned. “And the best of It Is,” said Celeste, as she. made plans for the summer which was to give her mother a trip to the mountains,, "the best of It Is that when wo come back 1 shall study painting." “And then you’ll have your chance," said Letltla. But Celeste smiled. "My chance came," she said, “with the pumpkins and pineapples In C. Smith’s window, and with that first pitcher of grandmother’s creole soup.”—Youth's Companion.

WHY BEAUTIES WED PLAIN MEN

VVoinnn Hoy* That They Are More litlMiful Ilm vi IlnndNome One*. Did yop ever ponder over the problem of why pretty girls marry plain men? A lady has thought the matter out, and thinks the glri who selects a plain or even ugly mate Is wise, London Tit-Bits says. The wise girl, she asserts, Is perfectly aware that the ugly man will make a far better husband than the Adonis who Is adored by every feminine beholder of his charms. The ugly man Is so frequently accustomed to bolng Ignored or slighted by the einpty-head-ed hut good-looking woman that the sensible girl who is able to see below the surface at once finds a faithful admirer and grateful slave, Compliments from the plain man are of far more value than the easy flattery of the much-sought-after handsome mule, who is seldom so sincere through reason of opportunity and adequate practice. And not being so “run after," the man lacking In outward charms is less likely to cause his wife Jealous pangs or feelings of loneliness at tho sight of an empty chair and a torn dress tie. Cgly men who marry pretty women are always far prouder of their wives than tho romantic Romeo of girlish dreams. Tho former feel grateful to the beautiful wife, while the latter imagine that the debt of honor is on the woman they have condescended to wed. All women nro naturally attracted to good looks, nnd the man who Is fair to look upon is more tempted to pose ns a bachelor If the chance of a summer flirtation arises than his brother of homely physical fasclna. Hons. The girl who marries an ugly man can be certain that her love is not a mere fancy of the moment rising out of her admiration for a well-cut nose and chiseled mouth. The love a girl bestows on an ugly man Is deeper, more lasting and more worthy of the name than the quickly given and easy spent affection of the woman who ignores the faults of the handsome lover ahd considers only the shapeliness of Ills hands, the color of his hair, and the “lovely .voice,” as he warbles soulstirring sentimental compositions. Plain men generally marry early In life, as soon as funds will permit, while tho good-looking males prefer to enjoy the fun a little longer, and to bask In the admiring glances and pleased smiles of the maidens upon whom they l>e.stow their patronage.

Woes of the Collector.

"Did you get anything out of her?" asked the business manager of the collector. "Yes; she paid me a compliment. Said she wouldn’t be afraid to trust me with the money if she had It.”— New York Times.

Not Immortal.

Poet — like the verses I wrote yesterday? Editor—No; they would offend our readers. _ j Poet—Sir, those lines are Immortal! Editor Don't fool yourself. I "killed" 'em myself.^—Cleveland Leader. We don’t think any too much of a woman who wears silk stockings while her bust-and sports cotton socks with boles In them.

A WAKING NIGHTMARE.

A chance visitor to a Chinese timber camp has'related, in Chambers’ Journal, an extraordinary adventure with a crocodile, In whlqh the crocodile came very near having the best of It. "Arriving boat at th) little jetty or landing place, I was astonished to find Grabam, the white man In charge df the camp, lying on a rattan couch within a few yards of the bank, with a heavy express rifle across his knees, gazing Intently at a rough pagar, or fence, erected In the stream. "Throwing myself down near him in the welcome shade, I learned the following story: Two nights before Graham was sleeping peacefully In his little palmleaf house, In a clearing about twenty yards from the river bank, when his dog began to growl, and refused to be silenced. / 1 "Graham turned out and walked round the hut to ascertain the cause of the disturbance, but setng nothing, addressed himself to the dog, In his usual vigorous sailing ship language, and retired to bed again. "Five minutes later he was once more aroused by a yelp from the dog, and this time, really annoyed, he seized a stick and sallied forth to inflict punishment on the disturber of his dreams. Suddenly a dark form gilded Bwlftly from the shadows, and Graham felt himself seized by the right knee as in a vise. “Stooping to free himself, he found he was In the grip of a large crocodile, whose teeth were firmly embedded in the fleßh. “Backward and forward the struggle swayed—tile crocodile striving to pull Its detlned victm to the water’s edge, and Graham, hampered as he was by hs Imprisoned leg, fighting for his life to reach higher ground. At last the beast, hurling Its victim to the ground with a shake of its powerful tall, began to drag him swiftly toward the wator. "Poor Graham, feeling, as he expressed it, that It was ‘all over, bar the shouting,’ determined to make one last effort for his life, and taking advantage of a momentary halt as the brute was steering pust a tree stump, he sat. up and succeeded In getting both hlB thumbs Into the reptile’s eyesockets —the only vulnerable part of a crocodile's head. "The rest of the story Is, perhaps, best told In Graham's own words, or as nearly as circumstances will permit: “ ‘As soon as I gits my thumbs made fast In 'ls eyes, 'e opfens 'ls piouth to shout, un* lets go my leg. Then, first thing next mornln,’ the coolies lays ’ls breakfast for 'lm, as you see, an’ I gets Into this chair, an’ 'ere I stays, if It’s a month.’ “Vainly I tried to porsaudo him to come away with me to the next station and see a doctor. I argued with him, I implored him, but It was absolutely useless. He refused to move from that chair till he had bagged his crocodile, and I was at last obliged to leave him, having dressed his leg, and exhausted every known means of persuasion short of brute Vorce. “I met him again a week later In a hospital bed. suffering severely, put quite happy in the knowledge that the bones of that crocodile were bleaching In the sun outside his house."

AMERICAN WAGES.

Avrruire In Trade* Probably Higher thnn In Any of Knropcan Cltle*. "The average wage in America may be, and probably Is, higher than In European countries, but In the professions I believe tfie people earn more abroad than they do here,” remarked Dr. F. A. Llmoget, a physician of Paris, at the Raleigh. “I understand that the averago income of the American physician does not exceed 11.000. There are 2,600 physlcians In Paris, nnd of that number more than half earn In excess of $1,600 a year, while the others fall below that figure. Few of them, however, earn less than SI,OOO a year. The average Income Of the French doctor, I believe, is greater than that of the American physician, and It Is probable that there Is a greater number of doctors who have large practices and earn larger sums than there Is In this country. There aro more specialists, jterhaps. In France than there and the same Is true all over Europe, I think. “I am told that there are 2,000 advocates practicing law In Paris. A fourth of these earn more than $2,000 a year, and probably 100 receive above SIO,OOO a year. I have no Idea what your lawyers earn, but 1 do not believe they average more than the advocates of France. I presume that the average Income of your people depends largely on the section of country In which you strike an average. I was Informed the other day that the average Income of America Is about S4OO. Tho averago Income of a Parts household is $720, while that of the fashionable quarter Is said to be about $5,600. In ths Fauborg Saont Honore it Is placed at $3,700, while In the Madeleine district It is $3,500. A good dentist in Paris can earn on an average more than other professional men. It was an American, I believe, who had the distinction of being the most celebrated dentist in Paris and who earned a fortune there." —Washington Hbraid.

A Compliment Now.

“But, mamma, you told me never to .call a person a pig." -- ~ ■; "But, daughter, that was before the price went up."—Houston Post. How some people da like to advertise the few virtue* they possess!

Stop Women and Considen

ThU Fact —that in addressing Mrs. Pinkham you are con. tiding your private ills to a woman—a woman whose experience with women’s diseases covers twenty-five years. The present Mrs. Pinkham, daughter-in-law of Lydia E. Pinkham, was for years under her direction, and has ever since her decease continued to advise women. Many women suffer in silence and drift along from bad to worse, knowing well that they ought to have immediate assistance, but a natural modesty causes them to shrink from exposing themselves to the questions and probable examinations of even their family physician. Such questioning and examination is unnecessary. Without cost you can consult a woman whose knowledge' from actual experience is great. MRS. PINKHAM’S STANDING INVITATION: _ Women sufferingfrom any form of female weakness are invited to promptly communicate with Mrs. Pinkham at Lynn, Mass. All letters are received, opened, read and answered by women. A woman can freely talk of her private illness to a woman; thus has been established this confidence between Mrs. Pinkham and the women of America which has never been broken. Never has she published a testimonial or used a letter without the written consent of the writer, and never has the company allowed these confidential letters to get out of their possession, as the hundreds of thousands of them in their files will attest. Out of the vast volume of experience which Mrs. Pinkham has to draw from, it is more than possible that she has gained the very knowledge! needed in your case. She asks nothing in return except your good will, and her advice has helped thousands. Surely any womdn, rich or poor, should be glad to take advantage of this generous offer of assistance. Address Mrs. Pinkham, care of Lydia E. Pinkham Medicine Co., Lynn, Mass.

MUST RETURN TO FARM.

The Only Homed y, l’utor Talmaire Mnya, for lllsrh Price*. Preaching upon the laws of Finance,” Rev.'Frank De Witt Talmage, pastor of the Chambers-Wylie Presbyterian Church, Philadelphia, declared that the high prices of food could primarily be traced to the fact that Americans no longer remained on the farms. He said In part: The great trouble about the world to-day Is too many men do not want to work. They are afraid of the callous hand and the rough clothes of the laborer. They want to be gentlemen. To be gentlemen, they think, they must do differently from what their fathers did. The result: The men who gave to this country the sterling worth which It has are gradually passing away. Do you know why this cry of high prices for food has come? I will tell you. It is true that the trusts might for a time hold the prices up, but only for a little while at the most. The reason we have high prices for food Is because the strong American patriots, who were once tho great food producers of this country, have left the farm. Those farms are now being taken by the Ignorant foreign emigrants, who hardly know the difference between the right hand and tho left. What Is to be the outcome? Unless the American people send their best blood back to the farm this country Is doomed. Go almost anywhere you will, and

Day After Day ' One will find f OSt a constant delight. B*h fjPj *-- Ll m ited %/ Some folks have pro- ‘ — ~.— Y nounced Post Toasties the Popular pkgTloZ *¥ choicest flavoured bits of —. --£■' Family also 13c. cereal food ever produced. ‘ ' M '1..'... , / ‘ V , “The Memory Lingers” Postum Gcreal Co., Ltd., Battle Creek, Mich., U. S. A;

you can 4ml that what I say La true. There are thousands of farms In tbia country which can be bought for the price of the buildings on their land Why? Because the men who have been on those farms were too Ignorant to run them- If the American boy la willing to make the same preparation in the great agricultural schools to lit himself for his life's iwork uix>n thefarm, as he would study to fit himself for the law or medicine, not only would he earn for himself a substantial livelihood, but more than that—he would be one of the great producers of whom our country is so much in need. James Hill has Just sounded forth this warning: "Back to the land” is the cry of all thinking men. Yet the men and the women will swarm into these large cities, where they are not needed, and leave the farms of this country empty of those men who mads this nation what it is.

Wanted a Small One.

Customer—My wife told me to stop in and buy her a 'bathing suit. What are your prices and sizes? Dealer—We have a very nice one here that I'm sure she will like. A ?50 bill will Just cover it. Customer—That is Just about the size she wants. How much is It?— Springfield Union. We feel sorry for a man who has occasion to walk along the street and carry a white parasol over the head of some woman.