Evening Republican, Volume 15, Number 240, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 11 October 1911 — Page 3

When Old Friends Stood in His Way

THE young man, who was particor larly well dressed and eminently business' like and brisk In mantier futobled in his pocket as he felt Old touctb. on hig shoulder, without looking up from the typewritten letterg that he was reading. *T don’t want your ticket,’* said the pleasant faced young fellow who had just entered the care. “Keep it for the Conductor, Willie-” Willie’s rather hard-bitten face relaxed to a smile that was almost cordial. "Good old Jim!’’ he exclaimed. "Aren’t you lost? Sit down, won't Fou?” - ; “Since you so prosing I be&eve I will,” said the pleasant faced young man, soberly. “I generally find it more comfortable bran standing up, anyway, How’s the boy? You're looking like a certificate of deposit, Willie.” "I can’t kick,” replied the businesslike young man. “I haven’t done so rotten bad in' the last two years. I’m ueietant in the department now and I’ll be buying In six months. Glad to see you,’yiin.” The pleasant-faced young man removed hie hat. “Excuse me for keeping it on,” he s£id, humbly. Then, addressing the- Plntsch lamps, 'And ihe still calls me 'Jim'! Did you mean for me to sit down beside you, •ir?” "Don’t Ije a chump,” said the busi-neie-Hke young man. “What’s the Shod word with you?” "Plugging, ’ said the other.,“Just plugging along. But I expect they’re going to make me a justice of the Supreme oourt in about 60 years, I don’t suppose you ever see any of the people that used to be at the old Joint?” Willie looked a little confused. "I’m still there/’ le said. “They’re reasonable,” he wept on in explanation. "I 'dont see any need of spending more than. I have to because I’m making more than I u:ed to. Of gentrse it pays a man to dies* well, business, but I ■ still have the game old room.” The pleasant faced young man digested this Information. “I guess, too, that you hate to leave old friends,”‘ite emiled. “WeH, I’m glad your head Isn’t swelled. Give my love to Mother Jones and tell her that I said so.” "Friends, my foot!” the business like young man snarled. “I haven’t got a friend In the house. I’m not keen about having ’em either.” “Old crowd all left, I suppose?” hasarded the pleasant faced young mail. "No, They’re most of them tttere. Old man Tooley, Dave price, Ritchie, Mrs. Hanberg and Mrs. Spencer and the fair Julia. Molly’s still waiting on table.” “Miss Ruth gone away?” 1 The business like young man looked embarrassed for the second time. She’s still there,” he answered shortly. “You and Dave were always quite -tibiwmmy,” suggested the pleasantfaced young man, “I know,” said the other. “The trouble with Dave is that he’s always hard up. Want’s to borrow money, and I’m no state loan Institution. I told him so once and he’s had a grouch against me ever since. "Of course,” he went on as his companion was silent, “of cour, e I wed to borrow of Dave, once In a Ypidle, in the old days, but then it was mutual. He’d come to me, one week, and I’d go to him another week. Now It’s ail one way. I’ve got money and he hasn’t. I earned my money and saved it, too. But when a fellow gets a little ahead everybody’s after him with their bands out. Mrs. Spencer got sore because I got tired of giving up for her church doings.” “I see,” remarked the pleasant faced young man, thoughtfully. "I always thought that they wei® a jolly, kind sort, of a lot, but I guess I was mistaken. But I'll bet Mother Jones hasn’t changed.” "She wanted to raise the price of board on me, but I wouldn't stand for it,” said the business like young man. "It Isn’t my fault if bis cost of living is higher than It used to be. I suppose her profits less, that’s all. It’s likely to be the same in any business. “I told her rhe oould have my room if she wan tied it, but I guess she didn’t Want H very bad. She knew Pd got a little raise or two and she tftought she’d come in on It. Molly, too, she teems to think I ought to come across With a tip about every so often. The fact of the matter Is that as soon as a man begin* to be a little successful people get envious and if they can’t wook you they’re down on you.” ”Ml«r Riuth down on you?” "No, she’s not down on me, but—well, we’re not tlte same ak we used to be. She got some notions in her head that . You’d think that a girl who had worked in an office for five years would have some Ideas of what wa« business and what want, wouldn’t you? She hasn’t "A« I wa* saying, a fellow, wtfcen he’s getting on, has got to get along by himself. The boys In the department would every one of them be glad If 1 was fired tomorrow. Old Ballard hates me, because he’s afraid I’m .gQing to get his job. And I am, too jde’a a back number.” "Well, here’s my Station, Willie.’’ ■aid the pleasant-faced young man rising. “But I thought old BaUaid did y<»u a good turn when he took yon on.” * "Did himself a good turn." “Good-bye,” said the pleasant faced young man. I needn’t tell you to take oare of yourself I know you wffi, and i’m glad you’ve been so successful So long!”

LOTS OF TIME.

Owing to a fog, a steamer stopped tthe mouth of a river. An old lady aired of the captain the cause ad the delay. ‘‘Cant »ee up the river," replied the officer. "Bat, captain, I can eee tibe atari overhead." eh* argued. , eaW the captain gruffly, “hut until the bollere bum we ain't a-goin that way."

Resolution Was Shattered. A little boy came home one day from school in a very bad humor. Another boy. Jack Jones, had given him a thrashing, and he wanted revenge. ' ' ;- “Oh,” said his mother, "don’t think yt revenge, Willie. Be kind to Jack. Heap coals of fire on his bead. Then he will beoome your friend. Willie thought he would try this method. So the next day at recess, just as he was buying a lemon pi© for luncheon, Jack appeared and said: “Look her; I licked you yesterday, but I didn’t give you enough. Now Pm going to lick, you again,”, And he planted a hard blow on Willie’s little stomach. Willie gasped, but instead of striking back he extended his pie to Jones. “Here.” he said in a kindly voice, “I’ll give you this. I make you a present of It,” Jack, in glad amazement, fell upon the pie greedily, and it had soon disappeared. it was good!” he said. “What did you give it to me for?” “Because you struck me,” said the heaper of coals. Instantly Jack hauled off and struck him again. “Now go and get another pie,” he said. —Ladies Home Journal.

Could Lose Anything.

A newly elected Senator from the West was on his way to Washington. He was thinking great things, when the conductor came into the car with his characteristic, “Have your tickets ready.” The senator began to jumble in one pocket then another. When the conductor came to him he was still looking for his ticket. "Did you have it when-you got in?” inquired the conductor, somewhat impatiently. “Of course I did. This isn’t trip.” f “Then you couldn’t have lost it?” “Couldn’t have lost it?” replied the irate politician. “H I lost a bass drum once.”—Philadelphia Record.

Marketing a New Product.

Mrs. Dexter, from somewhere “down State,” was enjoying her first ride in a crowded street car in. Chicago. It happened that A health officer, in the performance of his regular duties, was taking a sample of the air in the car. Mrs. Dexter saw his manipulations, but could not understand them: so she turend to a policeman who was sitting next to her. “I beg you pardon,” she said, “but can you tell me what that man is doing?” “Yes, ma’am,” answered the officer. “He bottling the atmosphere.” “For mercy’s sake! Do they can the air and sell it nowadays?”—Youth’s Companion.

Prayers for Lucy Grey.

The following is referred, respectively and systematically, to believers In the “divine origin of betting.” An unsophisticated curate went to a Yorkshire parish where horses were not only bred, but raced. - He was asked to invite the prayers of the congregation for Lucy Grey. He did so. Fox three Sundays they prayed for Lucy Grey. On the fourth the clerk told the curate he need not do it any more “Why,’’ said the curate, “is she dead?’ “No,” replied the clerk, “ehe’s won the steeplechase.” The curate becam* a power in the parish.

No Doubt About It.

“Yes,” said the man who seemed tc be thinking aloud, “it certainly doe* require a good deal of pluck.” “What requires a good deal of pluck?” asked the innocent bystander “The removal of the feathers from a' live goose,” explained the noisy thinker.

Quite So.

“Some men like women who will clihg to them in times of adversity.* 1 “Well?” “And some men seem to prefei tbose who will cling to them In timet of prosperity. Fortunately, there ar« women of both kinds.”

Crowded Out.

“The Balkans seem quiet thes* days.” “Better be. No use trying to annex newspaper space with the ball season just opening.”

Timely Caution.

"It’s all very well to leave the stag* to darn socks.” “Well?” “But before doing It, remembei that you will have to go through youi performance with no orchestra and a« spot light”

A Practical Poem.

Some advertise when things grow slack, And get a lot of business back. But biz with eome is always prime; They’re advertising all the time.

The Bard’s Reward.

“A poet has just starved to death." "Let us send him a wreath of flowers.” “Let us rather wait for his centenary. collect a number of wreaths, and have public speaking."

Self Defense.

Pa. what is the meaning of self- defense T” H "Self-defense, my boy, is that spirit which prompts me to eat spring onions when vour mpi h*r docs.’’

How Tommy Played Truant

“Tommy, Tommy, aren’t you ready for school yet?” called his little sister. W “No”, shouted back Tommy, parting hi; hair for the twentieth time that morning. “You’d better go on to school, Sue, ’cause I’ve got to blacken my shoes and find my hat and books, and, anyhow, I promised to wait for Dick Brown, and, anyhow, i might he lateJ'f “If you are, Thomas, father will whip you this evening when he comes tome,” came up to the ears of Tommy, not in the voice of Sue, but in his mother's tones. "Huh!” taid Tommy. “Ma never says ‘l’ll whip you myself.’ it’s always, ‘Thomas, if you don’t obey instantly, father’ll whip you when he comes ‘home ttis evening.’ I ain’t scared of father, anyhow, and I’ll prove,it to all of ’em. See if I don’t By jimininjAl’ve got the finest idea,” said Tommy. wonder what in the mischief i* keeping Dick Brown this morning? I wish he’d hurry on and come.” • After wtat seemed an eternity to the impatient boy, “Tom, Tom,” a boyish voice was calling. “Come on up, Dick, I’m not quite ready,” answered Tommy. “Dick, have you got plenty of lunch?” eagerly questioned Tommy. “Yes, Tom, I told- mother to give me an extra large lunch today. This kind of weather always makes me hungry.” “Fine!” and Tommy was silent. "When the boys came downstairs Tommy’s mother was sitting In the library reading her' latest book. “Dear me”, she exclaimed as they entered. “Tommy, you are going to be dreadful la£e, and, as I promised you, your father’ll whip you.” Tommy mumbled something about other boys’ mothers helping them to dress, walked over to tie fruit dish, slipped a couple of oranges and some bananas into his capacious lunch box and walked out of the house presumably to school. With a sigh his motner resumed -her -reading. Quick as be we* out of the hearing of his mother he proposed that he and Dick play “hookey.” After much persuasion on the part of Tommy, to the effect that they’d get licked anyhow for being late, Dick finally consented to go. “Let’s hide our hooks !n the old car barn and eat our lunch In the haunted house,” boldly suggested Tommy, who at that time felt brave enough to do anything. “I—er —er,” Did- began. “Coward,” sneered Tommy, and that settled it. Dick would do anything to prove that he wasn’t a cow- ’ ard. After eating their lunch the boys went off to a moving picture show, where they were enthralled by the daring of the boy hero, who did all kinds of impossible things. When the show was over the boys came back after their books, but both sets were gone. They searched the whole building, 1 but somebody had sueaked in while they were enjoying themselves and stolen them. The boys, thoroughly frightened and afraid to go home without, ;heir books, started weeping. “Tommy wasn’t at school today,” Sue electrified her mother by saying. “I’ll bet Tommy’s played truant," came from the depths of the library. "O, Tom, go find him,” cried Mrs. Moore, bordering cn hysterics. Mr. Moore jumped up, slammed his desk shut, put on his hat and left the house. * “I’ll teach that Toting fellow how to play hookey,” said he. “Just wait ui\til I catch him, I’ll give him the best lambasting he’s ever had in his life.” Dick’s father met Tommy’s father half-way down the block. “Come on Brown and help me find Tommy. “What! Tommy, too?" said Mr. Brown. “Why I was just going up to your house to see If Dick was there." “Well, you can search elsewhere," said Mr. Moore, "because Tommy’s been gone since morning." Just tlven he wa3 interrupted by a scared breathless, boy, who Bars': “I saw a light in the old car barn and I heard somebody moaning.” “There’s our boys,” said Mr. Moore confidently. “Hurry Brown, we’ll catch them- redhanded.” They made their way to the deserted car barn, and the moans that came from it were enough to frighten the boldest. “Just listen to those young rap*scalliag; go through the back door." said Mr. Brown, “and we’ll give them a dose o£ Mpir own medicine." The boya were sitting down on the floor eating the remains or their luncheon, and between mouthfuls uttering those blood-curdling moans, which were scaring the community. “Stop that," commanded Mr. Moore, and both Tommy and Dick dropped the sandwiches in their fright. “Get up this minute and come right home,” he continued. The boys obeyed without a word. Silent and crestfallen they walked slowly home, for they knew what was In store for them when their fathers found out that they had lost their books, besides playing hookey.

To Waterproof Boots.

Melt together two parts of beeswax with one part of mutton fat, aid apply to the leather ait night; the boots should then be wiped next morning with a flannel. When blacked the boots will not polish so treii at Hr*, but after the blacking has'been used several times they will polish brilliantly.

A Fair Exchange No Bobbery.

When Mr. Peadoy’s wife died he had ordered that Mrs. Peabody’* hat should remain hanging on the 'hat-rack Just as she had left it. • After a year had elapsed Mrs. Peabody NdT‘2 was ushered in. As she pased by the hat-rack he requested that that hat might remain undisturbed. A few years later Mr. Peabody was bringing his third wife to his home. He paused before the hat-rack where the two hats hung. He repeated his request. ‘I will not disturb tbose hats,” said she, “but the next bat that hangs t'beie will be a man’s.” And it was. —Judge.

Couldn’t Let It Get By.

“I’m engaged to two girls, one rich and the other poor. _Which would you advise me to marry?” "Follow the dictates of your heart, my boy.” “Then I’ll marry, the poor one.” “That’s right— and now' what’s the other girl’s address?” —Boston Transcript.

A Confession.

Gracie Oh, Mr. Necoyne, how lovely of you to bring me these beautiful roses. How sweet they are, and how fresh! I do believe there is a little dew on them yet!” Nocoyne W-well, yes, there is, but I’ll pay it tomorrow.—^Tit-Bits. ,

Took No Stock In It.

"Bodwin is the most thoroughly optimistic fellow I ever met. You’ve noticed his unfailing smile, haven’t you? Well, his wife tells me that he even smiles in his sleep.” / “Say, that ain’t a smile. It’s facial paralysis.”

Prompted.

He poised a drop of ink upon his pen; “What thoughts this drop may give the world!” he said. The drop fell on his shirt-front. Ah, well! Then His thoughts rolled out like hail- * stones on a shed.

The Contrary.

“I see that new s’rchitect in his ideas about apartment houses comes out flat for reforms.” “On the contrary, he is for reform for flats.” y 1

Cause and Effect.

The Earl of Ennui (dreamily)— Wlsht I just had er million, and 10 years ahead of me. Baron Beating-It—Well, you grab the million, and you’ll get the 10 years all .right, all right.—Puck. Shem—You’d better get ready for the flood, brother! Japhet—Did father say this was the day for the beginning of the raiq? “Do they have a good table?’ asks the prospective guest. “It is first rate/’ tnswered the man who has just returned. “Solid oak, with heavy legs an dia polished top.” Said He —I have employed an instructor in elocution to teach me how to talk. Said She —What you need is some one to teach you what to say. “How are you getting on at your country place these rainy days?” “Oh, we’re getting on swimmingly.”

THERE ARE OTHERS.

Bhe—He proposed to hie wife over the long-distance telephone. He—Tea, and elnoe their marriage he eeeme to prefer to talk to her In the eame way. "Ho could show you some things about manners." "Bah —l believe he’s a crook!" "Anyhow, he doesn't eat with his knifei-" “He would If it was against the law." “It Is every woman's duty to keep young as long as possible." she said. “Yes," he admitted, “but the great trouble is that so many women Insist on keeping young after it If impossible." “In your advertisements you stated that you have no mosquitoes." "So I ain't. Them pesky critters you eee flyinr’ around here don’t belong to me .by hecfc!" Doßrolce—l needed a V badly this morning, so I borrowed fifty from Marks. HSgglne—Why so much? Daßroke—Well, ttVmucfe easier to And an excude for not returning fifty than a mere live.

THE REASON

k -Francis Delaney, editor of the Western Magazine, sat in his office lost in a maze of manuscripts. He did not hear the door qpen and was unaware that he was not amne, until a timid voiee .broke the stillness. “Good morning, sir.” The editor raised his eyes with a slight start. Before ham stood a tall, young girl, timidly awaiting his reply. "What can I do for you?” Delaney asSed, brusquely, and his gaze returned to the manuscripts before him. She answered him hesitatingly. - ; “I have some stories. I would be gp glad to submit something. I” ‘‘Nothing today,” he answered, without lifting his eyes. “You can see we are overcrowded with new manuscripts, now.” The girl cast at him one look of sorrowful abashment. He did not see the look, nor did he see her as sue turned with an embarrassed fiusb upon her face and left the room. But the girl did* not forget. * * * * * • Ten years later the good fortune of Francis Delaney, once editor of the Western Magazine, had changed. A long illness had forced him to resign his lucrative position. Time' and money all had gone in the recuperation of shattered health, broken down by the earnestness of the man’s work. At last he had been restored to his normal physical condition, but then he faced new difficulties. He began a search, long fruitless, for a position equal to his ability. Months passed and he found nothing he could bring himself to accept. At last he determined fiercely to secure something—he cared not wh&t. It was in San Francisco that Delaney made his last stand. He entered the office of the large magazine he had chosen for his attempt with an air of desperate determination. Then, from i the manager of the publication came the same verdict —they could not use him at present. * Delaney turned almost fiercely. "What is talent worth?” he cried bitterly. “What are education, experience and trustworthiness if there is no demand for them? Surely In this establishment there Is some position I can hold.”

As his broken voice filled the room, a door opened and a woman entered. He did not notice her, but she gave a start of surprise and her face flushed when she saw him. She paused, as she heard his words. And as Delaney turned to go, the woman’s voice broke in. “I would wish you to give this gentleman a position in the editorial department,” she said to the manager. “i know he has ability.”” “Certainly,” answered the latter, coldly. Then to Delaney: “Came this way. We will arrange terms.” In private office Delaney was employed at a lucrative salary. Then he asked the identity of his benefactress. “I thought yon knew,” said the manager, “that this periodical is owned by a woman—the one you saw” * ***** A month had passed and Delaney had “made good” in hi* new position. He was now regarded as a permanent and valuable member of the staff. He had regained hi 8 o\d self-respect and prosperity was on the way. He had not seen the proprietress of the magazine again since the day she had befriended him. He had not recognized her, and burning within him was a great Cesire to know the reason for her action a month before. At last he determined to wait no longer-

“If you wish to see her,” the manager told him, “i could make an appointment for you at her home. Site seldom comets, here. You know she is an authoress and her time is much occupied. She is a talented woman wid you win enjoy meeting her.” And so it was arranged. The next evening Delaney called at the home of his benefactress. She received him graciously and they talked long together. Then he asked her the question that had filled his mind for weeks. “Why did you help me?” he asked. ”Why did you interfere in my behalf?” "I will tell you. One day, when I was 19 years old, I took to you my manuscripts and asked you to examine them. You refused, without even a glance at me or my work. Had I ' not been forced to earn my living. I should never written again. But I did, and I succeeded. When I saw you applying in vain for a position on the magazine I now own. I thought of my own feelings, U* I stood before you years ago. And I wanted to save you from them. That was all." Involuntarily Delaney shrank from her. Then, quietly he rose. With the briefest of courteous words be left the house. The next day Delaney resigned his position. He was again a wanderer.

Cheerfulness.

’Tla a Dutch proverb that "paint costs nothing,” such are its preserving qualities in damp climates. Well, sunshine costs leas, yet is finer pigment And so of cheerfulness, or a good tamper, the more it is spent, the more of it remains. The latent beat of an ounce of wood or stone is Ih•xhaurtible. You may n*> the mate chip of pine to the point of kindling, 100 times; and the power of happiness to any soul is not to be computed or drained.—Emerson.

Colamfl. fob baia i . ■■ For Sale—Keifer pears and winter apples. Inquire of Mrs. E. W*£aweil •or Phone 151. ■ —■ — .. -a. For Sale—A good Durham cow; be fresh soon. Chas. Ramp. For Sale—A full blooded Jersey heifer calf; cheap if taken at once. L N. Warren, phone 211. For Sale—A 20th Century beating stove; almost new. Inquire of Mel Abbott, phone 216. For Sale—One registered, pedigreed Duroc Jersey male hog, 2 years old. Inquire of O. W. Cedarwall, at Moißlt Switch, near Fair Oaks. - -< For Sale —My property north of the railroad; consist&of two lots 175x187 feet, good well, six-room cottage, large double chicken park. E. L. Hammerton, Rensselaer, Ind. For Sale—Spring chickens for fries. Phone 448. For Sale—Pure bred Duroc Jerseys. If you want a good spring gilt or boar, call, write or phone Victor Yeoman, phone 521 G, R. F. D. No. 2, Rensselaer, Indiana. For Sale—Bridge and other good oak lumber. Inquire of Wm. Halstead, R. D. No. 3, Box 40, Rensselaer. Indiana. FOB RENT. For Bent—Modern convenient house, centrally located. Inquire at Trust and Savings Bank or of Milt Roth. WASTED. Wanted—Twenty teams and scrapers for grading in Marion township. Apply to Eugene Purtelle at the Makeever House. '* Wanted—Men to do clearing on farm, chop wood, etc., board themselves. Inquire of Geo. W. Ketchum. Wanted—Pasture for 40 head of heifers and cows; will put out 5 or 10 in a place. Address S. T. Comer & Son. Wanted—Woman to clean house; can work a half day at a time. Mrs. Ret. Green.

Wanted—l want to rent a welldrained farm of 160 or 320 acres, for a term of 3 years, the landlord to loan or go my security for 31,500 to be used to purchase stock mid Implements to ran the farm. Will pay a rental of three-fifths of grain and hay delivered to the elevator or railroad. Address Box 7, Mt. Ayr, Iqd. Wanted—Companion and nurse for elderly invalid lady. G. F. Meyers. Wanted—Timothy hay. George F. Meyers. LOST. Lost—Tuesday, a gold locket and chain. Locket set with white and red stones. Initials “Q. M. G.” on back. Finder please return to Gladys Grant. FOUND. Fonnd—Sum of money. Ed Rhoads.' the groceryman. Found—Ladies’ black kid glove and baby’s bootee. Call here. • AUTOMOBILES. """ " """ "" " 1 1 ■ 1 ■IS We hare on onr floor ready for da-* livery two of those convenient economical runabouts, completely equipped, for S6OO. Call and let os tell you more about MISCELLANEOUS. \ Pasture—l. can take in a few more head of cattle at my farm 2 miles west of Rensselaer *lnquire of T. W. Grant. DOME Stic

By playing 27 hours, 46 minutes and 3 seconds, Harry A. Bennett, of Bethlehem, Pa., Monday broke the world’s record for “long distanee” piano playing. During all that time Bennett did not remove either hand from the keys. The previous record was held by Charles Wright, of Battle Creek, Wictu* Bennett just exceeding it by one minute' and three seconds, when be fell exhausted from the piano.