Evening Republican, Volume 14, Number 186, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 6 August 1910 — Page 3

A Dimple or Two

By JOANNA SINGLE

(Copyright, 1910, by Associated Literary Press.)

“After all, a man chooses,” finished Dr. Everett Transome, “and If he chooses to ruin his career by marrying some yellow-headed little nothing whom common sense would show him was quite the wrong woman, the failure of the marriage is purely his own fault. I’ve no patience with such men. It is Just as easy to love a balanced, dignified woman with brains, whose mental and social training would be a help to him, as to let himself be lured to the altar by a rosy, cheek and a dimple or two —like poor old Trafton, for instance.” He spoke with the settled assurance of extreme youth and inexperience. Mrs. Jimmie, really, if amusedly, interested, listened to her guest in wide-eyed politeness. Then she said she simply must dress for dinner and trailed off. Once in the hall she fairly ran upstairs to the guest room where her pretty, pink-cheeked cousin was making herself Unnecessarily lovely. 'I don’t want to be late at my own table, Rose, but I must tell you that Jimmie has brought home an eastern college friend, and he’s to take you In to dinner. He deserves anything you may do to him, though heaven forbid that I put you up to any worse mischief than your own fertile mind suggests. You won’t believe it, but he has Just finished telling me exactly what sort of a girl he intends not to marry.” “Does the description, by chance, fit little Rosie?" asked the girl, demurely wicked. “For a moment I thought he must have been trailed by you somewhere when you were east last summer a'nd was revenging himself. But no, he was quite serious.” “Any man who is quite serious deserves—.anything! Is he worth while?’ Rose tilted her yellow head to catch the mirrored effect of a rose In her hair. “If he's—worth " “He's all that himself and his doting widowed mother think him! Of fine family, good looking, with brains and manners carefully cultivated here and abrgad; and with money. But very—young. It seems that his mother intends to have him wed a Miss Minerva Farleigh of Boston. He is out here for a rest before beginning In the fall the practise his father left him. He —well—l must dress! Rose—don’t be outrageous—but he does need a lesson!”

Dinner went oft conventionally enough. Rose tried the sweet, feminine, dependent role she usually played till she decided on what the game was to be! She drew Dr. Transom out about himself and he was, naturally, deeply interested. Her questions about his work and plans were, in fact, so intelligent that the young man twisted his broad shoulders, and turned his fine brown eyes on his neighbor in some surprise—she didn’t look like much but a frail plaything—he especially disapproved of yellow curls. And in the cheek nearest him he marked a deep and restless dimple. Her hands were little and delicate. She was very slender. He wondered if she knew how to take care of her health?—probably not. He was sure of it when, in the drawing room after he noted the scandalous height of her small heels. He determined to advise her. Dr. Transom played the piano well. Induced by Jimmie, who knew all his friend's paces, he played some Beethoven, some Bache—then a little Chopin—the latter because he thought Miss Rose Thorne might care for lighter music. She sat where he could see her by a side glance. She was not amused, evidently. Finally she sauntered over to him and asked: "Can’t you play something lively—a gypsy dance, or some ragtime?" Her eyes were innocent, and he stared at her in dismay. But Jimmie Reverton grinned and pushed him from the stool.

“I’ll play,'* he laughed. “You’re ■too solemn. Pull up a rug or two there, Jimmie. Now, Rosie, give us a step or two.” To the young doctor’s scandalized ■ fascination the girl rose, and to the wild time of the host’s music began a whirling dance. He could not take his eyes from the pretty witch in her gauzy blue dress. At last, half exhausted, she stopped suddenly and came panting to sit beside him. He thought angrily that the exercise was bad for her heart; that some one should look after the girl, and that he would try to coax her to wear common-sense shoes—he would do that much good during his stay—iand she was little more than a child. !He wondered at Jimmie’s letting the igirl do so unfit a thing. On the strength of his concern for her unprotected situation he asked her to drive with him next day. The doctor had been coaxed to stay on a month at the Riverton place, and Rose began trailing him to the " best of her practised ability, while he told himself that he was looking after her properly. She rode and walked and drove with him. He found she could do most things that he could, and many-that he could not; the intelligence of her sympathy surprised him, and he always intended to speak to her about the folly of her ways. She delighted him when she' did what he least approved of—even to wearing high heels and dancing.

So he forgot his career, Miss Minerva, Boston, hla mother, and the universe. And, finally, he forgot himself. At least that was the opinion of his family—before they really knew Rose. One of the signs of the doctor’s ailment was that he began to forget to write home, and had already lenthened his proposed stay to a week past its supposed bounds. Back in the east -his mother went to call on Minerva. ’ No; Miss Far-* elgh had not heard from him foi some time. Minerva had long been tacitly considered a daughter in the family. Not that Everett had made love to her—he did not know, In fart, what love was, nor how to make it—not until he met Rose. And now that he had met her, he did not know that he was making love, nor was he aware that he had learned one of love’s first lessons—blindness to the world and forgetfulness of self. Like the ostrich, hiding from, his enemies by thrusting its head in the sand, he was hiding from his own heart. Mrs. Transom wrote her son a long letter. He replied, saying he was enjoying himself and really had decided to stay another week or twb—in fact, he would not say just when he would return. Then it was that his mother packed a trunk and decided that a little trip would do her good. She determined to surprise her son and come home with him—it would be a natural and motherly thing for her to do—and Bhe would see the girl who was keeping him. The wisddta of her sex warned her that “girl,” though unmentioned in her son’s letters, lay beneath hiß strange and sudden wish to dawdle in a mid-western town at the home of a mere college friend. Meanwhile Everett Transom was becoming very gay and foolish, discovering that he had really never lived, that the breezy western air was the finest in the world, and western girls had much more attractiveness than he would have thought possible. And Rose was growing quiet and serious— at little seasons, few and far between, be it admitted. Her interest was no longer feigned. She began to be a little afraid. This man with the resolute _ eyes and unsmiling mouth would not be flirted with and take dismissal easily, she knew she would be called to account.

Things were at this pretty pass of loverlike doubt and fear, when one lovely morning Mrs. Transom, quite unannounced, got out at the little station, and finding a cab, came out to the Reverton place. It was a beautiful day, and seeing the big house standing out by itself, where she could not miss it, she asked the driver to let her down to walk a few blocks after her long journey—besides, on foot, she would be more of a Surprise. As she entered the drive, she saw coming toward her a pretty dog cart And in it, his hands holding loosely the reins which should have beer guiding thp perverse spotted pony, sat her son—her cherished boylaughing and turning his face ridlcu lously close to a very pretty, a most unnecessarily pretty, yellow-haired girl who raised back at him in a manner, which was, to say the least, frank! Neither saw her. But the pony and not to run over her, shied. His senses returning, the young man looked up and saw his mother Not believing his eyes, startled, full of what he had been faying to Rose—how he loved her—he Jerked the reins the wrong way and the perverse pony started sharply to one side, so sharply that in a twinkling the cart upset and dumped lover and girl at the astounded and frightened old lady’s feet. Mrs. Transom tried to scream, but her voice refused to come. Then Dr. Transom was on his feet gathering Rose up out of the dust and into his arms, assuring himself she was not hurt, saying he knew not what until she declared she was not even scratched. Then he turned and dutifully kissed his mother. She looked sternly at Rose. "Your—new daughter, Rose," he explained swiftly. Rose, very dutifully, received her future mother-in-law’s frigid kiss.

The Use of Cosmetics.

Appropos of the extravagant qse of cosmetics-in New York, a witticism is credited to Reginald Vanderbilt. A lady said to Mr. Vanderbilt at one of .the "comet suppers’’ at the Plaza: “There are the throe Van Twiller girls.” “Are they all three still unmarried?” Mr. Vanderbilt asked. “Yes,” said the lady, "They’re rich and pretty, too. it’s odd they don’t go oft.” “Isn’t It?" said Mr. Vanderbilt. “They use enough powder."

To the Rescue.

Inventor—l have a great Idea here if I only had the wherewith to carry it out Financier—l should think an ordinary wheelbarrow would be sufficient

“Mislaid.”

“Some people, like hens, can never find anything where they laid It yw terday” says the Mobile Register -

A QUAKE IN CHILE

SERVES TO BHOW LIMITATIONS OF THE NATIVE SERVANT. Ludicrous Experience of an American Residing There During the Memorable Santiago Shock of 1 906. - “The South American servant is usually most considerate of your comfort, but he is not apt to use his brqin very much,” said John H. Gilmor, an American who has passed most of. his life below the equator. “During the earthquake in Santiago de Chile in 1906 my cook refused to go upstairs to help me save some clothes and valuables, but unthinkingly risked her life to get me a bottle of whisky. “I was at the .Union club early in the evening of-August 16, and some of us were shaking dice for drinks. When the first shock came I, not being used to earthquakes, ran out into the patio. My companions jeered me when I went back to the table. We got busy with the dice again, and pretty soon came the grand shock, that lasted three minutes and fortyseven seconds. There was no jeering this time, but everybody made for the front door., house was about five blocks from the club, btu all the lights were out, the streets were pitch dark, and it seemed an hour before I got there, though I was running as hard as I could. There was a light in the dining room, and everything was on the floor. I shouted for my wife, but she, the servants and the dog were gone. “While I was turning off the gas, Abtonia, our cook, who was an Araucanian Indian, came to the front door.

“ ‘Master, for God’s sake get out,’ she cried. “She told me that my wife had gone to the AlamedS, a wide street some distance away, and would wait for me there. “It was midwinter and bitterly cold. I ran into the house again and upstairs to get some wfaps, and begged Antonia to come with me to help find them and some valuables, but she would not. She ran to the kitchen and fetched a candle and then caught the things as I threw them into the patio. When I got downstairs she had made them all up into a bundle. "I put on a heavy overcoat, and we started for the Alameda. As I ran I felt something' bumping against my~ legs. I reached into my pocket and drew out a bottle of whisky. Antonia though she would not go upstairs, which was fairly safe, had ducked into the bodega or wine closet, the most dangerous sort of place in an earthquake, and dug out the whisky. “Everybody in the city who could get there was in the Alameda, and there was such a throng that I could not find my wife. We searched about the spot where Antonia had left her, but there was not a sign. “We walked about calling her name, but it was not until -2 o’clock in the morning that we found her. Then it was by our little fox terrior’s recognizing my voice, and coming and leaping toward me. T found my wife and the other servant sitting on the curb near by. We commandeered a vacant carriage, and my wife and I lived in it for two nights."

Musical Announcement.

Because the Barkers were always doing ridiculous things In a ridiculous way nobody .was surprised at their sending out a mysteriou? invitation to something, presumably a muslcale, because the notice consisted of just four bars of music; but everybody was surprised that the invitation should have been mailed several days after the printed date, which was June 16. One man who never liked to miss anything called Barker up and told him how sorry he and his wife were that they didn’t get the Invitation in time. “Invitation?” said Barker. “Yes, to your muslcale. It Just came this morning.” Barker sent back an embarrassed cough over the wire. "I am afraid you didn’t understand,” he said. “That was my wife's way of letting you know it’s a boy. From ‘The Messiah,’ you know —’Unto us a son is born.’ “ “Oh,” said the other man. Then he added: '‘Those crazy Barkers!”

An Eccentric Professor.

The late Professor Sophocles of Harvard was a short but finely built man, with bushy, snow-white hair and beard, olive complexion and piercing black eyes, and looked like some venerable Arab sheik. Reserved and shy in manner, he was yet full of genial humor. Once, in the class-room, he asked a student: “What was done with the bodies of the Greeks who were killed at Marathon ?” “They were burled, sir.” “Next!” “Why, they—they were burned." “Next!” “I—l don’t know, professor;” “Right. Nobody knows!” He was never married, but lived alone in one of the college buildings, and prepared his own food, getting up curious Turkish dishes. He allowed a servant to visit the room to make up his bed, but would endure no further disturbance, and the floor was unswept from October to June.

It Escaped Him.

Pann—What did you think of the Ills Are today? Phan—Didn’t hear about it. What fire waa that? Pann—A whole row of buildings burned Just outside the ball grounds. Where were you this afternoon?' Pann— At the bail game.—Puck..

ROYAL MOURNING CUSTOMS

in England Sumptuary, Laws Wara Formerly Found Noeesaary to Restrict Extravagance. Royal mourning in the past was regulated far more elaborately than nowadays. In pre-Revolution days, when the French court was in mourning, the royal apartments were hung with black, and every looking glass In the king’s residences was covered with crape. French queens, when widowed, were expected to remain secluded for six weeks in a room draped with black cloth v on which were fastended white velvet dots, supposed to represent tears.' The same custom prevailed in Scotland. In the pamphlet which George ’Buchanan wrote against Mary Queen of Scots he dwelt severely on the fact that long before the forty days following Darnley’B death were spent she showed herself at a window and “looked out on the light of day.” Sumptuary mourning laws were formerly found necessary in England to restrict the extravagance of the nobility and their imitators in the matter of funeral costume. At the end of the fifteenth century it was laid down that dukes, marquises, and archbishops should be allowed sixteen yards of cloth for their gowns, “eloppes” (mourning cassocks) and mantles, earls fourteen, viscounts twelve, barons eight, knights six, and all persons of inferior degree only two. Hoodß were forbidden to all except those above the -rank of esquire of the king’s household. In the following century Margaret, Countess, of Richmond, mother of Henry VII, issued an ordinance for “the reformation of apparel for great estate of women in the time of mourning.” So it seems that men and women have met in the extravagance of sorrow. Even two hundred years ago London tradesmen found that court mourning seriously affected their business. Addison relates that a tavern he often met a man whom be took for an ardent and eccentric royalist. Every time this man looked through the Gazette he exclaimed “Thank God! all the reigning families of Europe are well.” Occasionally he would vary this formula by making reassuring remarks respecting the health of British royalists. After some time Addison discovered that this universal royalißt was a colored silk merchant, who never made a bargain without inserting in the agreement. “All this will take place as long as no royal personage dies in the interval."

Diet Affects the Carriage.

.“There are foods that make for a good carriage,” says a teacher of physical culture. “The Japanese women, who live on rice, carry themselves very eject. The Russian women, who live on hearty food, are also noted for their brilliant bearing. The Irish and the English are notoriously fine in their walk. “Sweets give a woman a bad walk. If she takes an afternoon tea of bonbons she will have little appetite for her dinner afterward, and soon she will bend forward as though ‘there were an emptiness In her stomach. “Yet I must qualify this. When I take my pupils out for an afternoon walk I make it a point to give them two lumps of sugar each at five o’clock. A little sugar just at this hour wards off fatigue. I also give them a little green stuff, which takes away the thirst. For dinner I tell them to eat lettuce and watercress, so that they will not feel the need of Jellies and other heavy sweets. The resuit is a loss of flesh and a gain of appetite. I insist that my patronesses carry themselves well. Otherwise of what use is a fine gown? I can not design for a woman who walks as though she were pulling a cart.”

Tortolse Speed.

According to the fable the hare and the tortoise had a race and odds were decidedly against the latter because of its lack of speed. Now there is a tortoise in Ohio township, Bartholomew county, that would certainly “show up strong” in a race with the fabled creeper. The Ohio township tortoise has only moved about an eighth of a mile in 20 years. Twenty years ago O. A. Sprague, then a small boy, found a tortoise on the farm of his father in Ohio township and carved his initials on its back. He turned it loose and the Incident waa forgotten. A few days ago Everett Sprague, a loeal school teacher and a brother of the man who carved the tortoise, was walking about the farm, when ho ran across the tortoise and examined Us back. The initials were as plain as the’day they were carved and the tortoise h4d only moved about an eighth of a mile from place where the carving was done.—Columbus Correspondence Indlanapollß News.

Vocal Cord Warts.

Laryngeal or vocal cord warts may be as little as birdshot or as big as a pea, and even larger. They are often rough and warty, full of little, rough, warty growths, the size of a pinhead, and are thin, pale or rosy or yellow. They have a core or tiny blood vessels and so bunchy are wnrts as to look like little cauliflowers or cocks combs. Some of them are soft and flabby and awing to and fro with the breathing or speaking. Others are hard and horny. Horny warts are mostly considered to be a bad sign, but Professor Bordeaux has had -harmles horny* wart cases in old men for yean* . - '

IN THE WHITE MOUNTAINS

AFTER sitting over a desk eleven months without a moment’s respite, I- knew , that I must have some diversion from my unremitting toil; in fact a vacation was imperative, and I determined to get out at once. • My mecca was and ever will be the White mountains, and to their peaceful, rest-' ful solitude I fled, taking with me only a short skirt, sweater and heavy boots for mountain climbing. My funds would not permit me to locate at even the smaller hotels, and hearing of a quiet farmhouse in the town of Kearsarge, I secured board and settled down for the time of my life. Although very tired and weary from my long Journey, I awoke next morning bright and early, refreshed and ready for mountain climbing, for it must be remembered that the invigorating air of old New Hampshire hills has a sudden as well as permanent effect. I did. Kearsarge easily, a steady climb of three miles, hard miles, too, but well worth the effort when one considers the delightful view awaiting the climber —Portland harbor, Poland springs, Songo river, Sebago lake and many other smaller lakes in Maine. The day was intensely clear, and we had no difficulty in discerning people moving about on Mount Washington—could even distinguish men from women. A house on top of the mountain affords shelter if one cares to stop over night to see the sun rise, and food is also obtainable at the same shack.

After a day and night on Kearsarge, we (I say we, for I met most delightful people imaginable at the farmhouse), planned to have a quiet day with only a short walk, and after a late breakfast went to Mount Surprise, less than a mile, which, in climbing, seems little more than a hilL But on reaching the summit behold the splendor of it all! The magnificent view is one long to be remembered; the Presidential range, with old Mount Washington the banner peak, plainly in the distance presents a picture not easily described. The awful grandeur of those gigantic monuments that have stood for centuries. In sharp contrast to the peaceful valley below, dotted with its little hamlets, forms a spectacle that any words of mine would be utterly inadequate to portray. Loth to leave 'this glorious scene, we descended the mountain and made for the Cathedral woods near by, and there in the heat of the day we were in the most beautiful pine woods in New England, the tall and stately monarchs standing in row resembling the pillars of a cathedral, hence the name. Surely this was a haven of rest for a weary body, and a tired brain; rustic seats, the most luxurious carpet of pine needles, the gentle yet constant murmur of the swaying pines and the never-ending notes of the songbirds. It seemed like a spot enchanted, where we should speak and move reverently. Reluctantly we left this seemingly hallowed wood, resolving to spend as many hourß there as our limited time would permit. Then a day was reserved for a visit to Bretton woods, over the Maine Central railroad, through the famous Crawford Notch, a trip cannot be excelled in grandeur east of the Rockies. This stony pass was discovered in 1772 by a hunter named Nash, and in 1803 a road was made through the Notoh as far as Bartlett at a cost of $40,000, one of the most daring ventures ever conceived by man. Upon entering the lower gateway of the Notch, <?n the right is to be seen Mount Webster with its slide-torn sides, on the left Mount Willey ascending abruptly from the forest, and In front Mount Willard with its tinted cliffs. I shall not attempt to describe the solemn majesty of those mountains. each grander than the ntiww because of some particular charm of its own. As the train, climbing upward, winds around Mount Willey, clinging to the stupendous cliffs, an excellent view is afforded of the old Willey house site, a long yellow barn being the only landmark left to tell the tale of long ago. In 1793 the old Willey house was built, and in 1826 Samuel Willey, Jr., resided there with his family, and at this hospitable board .traders passing through the Notch were housed and also fed. in the middle of August the same year there | w«* 9 terrific rainfall, and owing to

the intense heat and dry weather which had prevailed, the ground was baked to a powder, and when the: awful avalanche of earth and rock became loosened, it came down with terrific force, sweeping everything in its course. The slide started from Mount Willey in a fearful mountain storm during the night, at just 'what hour no one will ever know. It is evident that the terrified family foresaw the appalling danger that menaced them, for they fled for their lives to the open and were never again seen alive. - The finding of the bodies revealed but too plainly the fact that they had been swallowed up by the avalanche. Three miles farther on is the Crawford house, charmingly situated and homelike, with broad verandas, delightful walks and drives, and affording an excellent view of the Notch. As the train moves on, now on a downward grade, we are accorded a fine view of the new Mount Washington house, one-quarter mile to the right, on Hie Maine Central. This collossal structure, a veritable palace, is thtf most magnificent inland hotel in New England, a little city in Itself, unique in its appointments, being equipped with millinery, gents’ furnishing goods departments, etc. There is alsd a stock exchange connected with Wall street, and not a little anxiety was apparent on the faces of some of the men who watched the man with the chalk. The hotel has a capacity for accommodating 1,200 guests, and though built but three yeare, the managers have found it necessary to build greater. As we walked down “Millionaire- Row” with its exquisite furnishings, listening to the sweet strains of the orchestra, we realized fully the power of mammon. ' A few more puffs of the fron horse, and we are in close proximity to the Mount Pleasant house, one of the most popular hotels in the mountains. Here we have a superb view of the Mount Washington railway, the trains being distinctly visible. The train is now moving on a downward grade of 80 feet to the mile, and before we realize it we are at the picturesque Fabyan house, from which point we boarded the observation car for the base of Mount Washington, where we were transferred to a .coach, with the engine in the rear, and step by step we climbed Jacob's Ladder, a distance of three miles, with an average grade of 1,300 feet to the mile, requiring one and one-half hours to reach the summit. On Its most for* mldable grade, 1,980 feet to the mile, the ascent is slow and the engine breathes hard. The change in the atmosphere was very perceptible—lt was cold as November.

After a few days’ sightseeing around Kearsarge, interspersed with five and ten-mile walks, for everybody walks in the mountains, we took advantage of the celebrated drives known as the Dundee drive. White Horse ledge, Diana’s Bath, Bartlett bowlder, etc. The time was nearing when I must retrace my way homeward, and I had not seen the cardinal wonder of the New Hampshire highlands—the “Old Man of the Mountain.” Getting the party together again at the farmhouse, we again went to Fabyans, where we connected with the Boston ft Maine for Littleton, one of the cleanest, most beautiful towns in the Granite state, and from here drove to Franconia Notch where is to be seen the most sublime and imposing spectacle that greets the eye in any part of the White mountain system. No words can describe, no language can depict the awful grandeur,, the Ineffable beauty of that scene. The autumn sun was slowly setting and Its last rays lent a softness to that old stone face that will ever Huger to my memory. The sunlight and shadows of a closing day lay softly and peacefully on Lafayette and Cannon mountains, reflecting their gorgeous splendor in the silvery lake beneath, while that face, almost human in expression, 1,200 feet above tbe base of Mount Caanon, as though guarding the little summer cob city below, appeared to Invite oneandl all to tarry and rest. - The last few days had revealed n-uch of beauty, but nothing comparable with this. It was wonderful, entrancing, awful, In its Imposing magnificence, and that glorious picture will ever appeal to mt as being one of the grandest and best of God’s handiwork* Helen b. trash ■ ■ >