Evening Republican, Volume 15, Number 257, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 31 October 1911 — Page 3

MY LADY RUTLEDGE

Orraai

fapfr fhnf r»o rd* u Iror ora a » Af)A *- _. a _ , . .. t * , . and further broinrl-'t. out the * Ti “The young wife o’ old Thomas -Rutledge,” was the answer. “She died sudden.” / v I knew that my * grandfather's, second wife, had died soon after their marriage, but that there was anything suspicious in the fact I had never heard and did not now believe My reason for coming to the hall was to find If my hope of giving a house party the’ seemed feasible. A massive and in osing pile I found tiiv house to be. but ruin and negj* lect Was wri ten all about it. I had brought the keys and at length found myself in one ot the front rooms and a Are roaring up the broad chim* ney. There was no way of lighting the place, but K was moonlight, and after drawing out an old conch on which I proposed to sleep I sat looking out into the vine-tangled garden. Suddenly a shadow fell across the pathway and a moment later a woman appeared, alight and girlish, and enveloped in a long garment of gray. Slowly the form advanced, paused as If looking over the old garden, then, turning, disappeared. “My lady of Rutledge Hall!” I exclaimed under my breath. ' t li I determined that on the following day I would, make a thorough examination of the hou-e both within and without, and began bright and early. It was nearly noon, however, before anything unusual happened. Then, while in a chamber. I glanced; into a long mirror reflecting the part of the; room toward whteh my "back was turned. A crimson curtain hung there as I looked last, now—Hke*a j>ertratt inclosed by the mirror’s frame —scood a girl whose right hand held the curtain aside, her red lips sligntly parted and a startled look to her brown -eyes. I turned to confront the original-. She was gone! Pulling aside, the drapery I found a door, closed and locked. Had I been tricked by a too vivid lmaglnaiion? I did hot believe it. Neither could I bring myself to fancy anything supernatural in the myster. ous figure, she had too much-the look of flesh and bloc-1.. Presently I renewed my search, with greater eagerness than ever, but it was several hours later befo e I entered that part of the housr previously occupied by the care -ker. Then I approached from the outside; but what was this! . Was he hers after all?- There were igns of life. S Puzzled, I knocked at the door. It opened, and "~r the second time I found myself looking into a pair of startled brown oyes. Jes, I had found'the-mysterious lady, and after introducing myself found her name to be Arvilla French and learned how she came to be here. Her father was hot living, her mother’s health required a summer In a qqiet place Miss French had been attracted by the romantic neglect of ■Rutledge Hal!, and coming’ across the man who had cared for the plaoe, learned that she might occupy a * ■ L ■ r— _ V

HER

bit father, “that I am going to tell you, for the locket will belong to you some day-—soon—and you shall causht him in my arms, and managed to drag him to shelter, -i----though I, too. was hurt. You know all about it, except that I havts when we'were marching South, the boys all used to tease him, but not knowing Jusf'which one of all C* c girls we left behind was Dave’s sweetheart, we used- to ask him aboutj 'Her’ —just her —not knowing any tmme. We all bad farewell letters, but, no one knew about Dave’s. / , •‘Wei’. when Dave lay dyinj;’*his voice broke for a' moment, bathe soon weat on- “he smiled at me; in all h’s pain, and whispered' ‘Her picture is in the locket. Take ft home to her, and tell her that always loved her ” There was other silence, while grandfather gazed at the locket. Sonny dared not interrupt, but he handed the little package to grandfather, who carefully opened it. In it were three old, yellow letteio, scarcely legible. .“Reed them, Sonhy,” said grandfather, and Sonny read. “ ‘My Dear Da. e,” said the first, “you should not have been so worried about our parting, i shall J>esafe and well cj*ed for while you are gone. It will be rather dull, with so many of our young men away, but I shall pay a visit to my cousin in the city for diversion,* and I shall have a new gown tp delight you when you return to your very loving f Laura.’’* The second was shorter. "Dear David;’ it said, “God be with you—that is what good-by means. < I know that he will protect you and bring you safe home again to me. My prayers are ever with you. Trustingly yours, “2jmily. ii *J'» There was anc'her letter, not so carefully written, incorrectly spelled, and unsigned. “Dear,” said tho third letter, “the love of a girl like me can never be a blessing—but, .now/tbat you are going a*ray, I wi’l confess. I salve ‘ you dearly, David, dearly, and 1 want you to be happy. If I could only make you so—but you have j money and education, and I have neither. Only a great love for you, David.” Those were all the letters. Sonny folded them caiefully again and wrapped them In the flag—the farewell letters of a soldier. "They tell so little; and so much,” said grandfather. ‘‘Emily was the daughter of our pastor, a swee£ and lovely girl, whom everyone honored. She died, unmarried, two years after the war was over. Laura was the village coquette—the prettiest, most fascinating little lady imaginable, but she thought always of herself, as even that bit of a letter shows. The other was the saddest of them all—a poor country girl, to whom David bad been kind and courteous as he always war to all. Indeed, he had shown no special attention to any one of the three. And yet, he loyed one of thorn.” "Which one?” asked Sonny. “To which one did the locket belong?” The boy tried hard in his own mind to determine which had won the soldier’s heart Tbs old man shook hi- heal and said nothing. “Grahdfather,” whispered Sonny, “won’t you pitas* tell me which one?” Grandfather sighed. “When I found the locket, hit by a bullet, as you see, the picture was gone. I have never kaown Which one was ‘Her,’ ” he said.

Pray to Pigs,

The native of Borneo prays to a. p g on all Important occasions. If hs fears enemies, Ul luck or sickness Is coming the pig Is brought into the the matter which the natives want to t r li.

Robin Superstition

"It Is unlucky to kill a robin" its a vitNMtbllahfd saying in Koihtsf. "How badly your hand shakos; yos saa scarcely write," sard a teacher to a >mr ill school fa England, **tt always shakos,” saM the hoy. *1 btoco had 'a robin die' hi toy bang and they Say ls a robin dim la your hand It will alwmsra ahakh."

JONAS BIRTHDAY PRESENT

Orii-J .

* * , ~ I . ** of Hie SfSipJfWi' a wife for his birthday present! He has everything else that he needs, and you know he is altogether too timid to ever secure a wife without some assistance!” .“Won’t he resist itf’S asked tho girls, timidly, but May checked them one! What man would! The only thing is to see that she is in every way worthy of him, for Jonas 1b really a splendid fellow, even if he Is bashful. Jonas shall have a wife for his birthday, that much is settled! Now who shall she be, and how will we present her?” This three girls sat for a moment In silence; then suddenly May wa» struck with a bright idea. The other girls stared at her in breathless amazement when she told them what It was.

Here we are, getting older and older every day, and not a man in the village that Is marriageable except Jonas. Now we all like him, you know we do; but, if we wait for him to propose, we’ll all die old maids, and that wouM be awful. All Jonas needs is a little encouragement, and no' one will ever know that we used our influence for each other!" ' And, finally, her reasoning prevailed, possibly by the aid of a tender Mntlment existing toward Jonas in the hearts of both the blushing maid, ens.

“I say Jonas, you’d oughter be thlnkin’ of marryin,’ ” said Uncle John” Gardner, shortly after the important agreement between the three young ladles. “I s'pose so,” said Jonas absently, with a little blush. “ ‘Pears to me you’d better be lookin’ around,” continued, the old farmer as indifferently as possible. "Your thirty-fifth birthday is cornin’ and you’ve be’n half your life without a wife. Must be sort o’ desolate fer ye, I’m thinkin,’ ” “What’ll I do?” asked Jonas, sheepishly. “Ask - one of these pretty girls as he glanced slyly at Jonas. Which one’ll I ask? queried Jonas* “Ask ’em alfl” said the old farmer, with a roar of laughter. He hpd evidently thought of something that was exceedingly funny. “John Gardner, be you oat of your head?” said Jouaw, half angrily. But the farmer’s words Jmrned In his brain long after, he had parted with his friend and neighbor. And that evening he put on his beet suit and went over to call bn Jennie Deerlng. An hour before midnight they were Sitting alone in the kitchen, for the old folks had gone to bed in a most accommodating manner. “Did you know my birthday was next week, Jennie?” said Jonas, suddenly.' He was sitting as near her as he dared when he asked the question. Suddenly Jennie giggled In a mo.it unaccountable way. “Do you want a birthday present, Jonas?” she asked, with a fit of laughter that bordered on hysterica. “I want a wife!” he said, boldly, and then blushed as red sis a poppy. "That's what I mean!" said Jennie, still hovering on hysterics. “Do you want a wife for a birthday present?” ; v, ••• Jennie was desperately In earnest, as well as Jonas. She had to fulfill her part toward securing the combination wife end present.

“May Gardner or Sally Green would marry you, lam sore. They are both alee girls, and you're bound to like them!" She blurted out tha words la the moat astonishing way. and then finished by bursting into a fit ot crying. *- “But I don't went Sallie Green or May Gardner! I want you or no--body. tor my wife!” Jonas said hflTMly ' The sight ot her tears had made hWrbold, and t he holding liar promised* tvlfe.*ox4°when*be test h£ Hmm was only one cloud upon her happlaMS. - “Tb« girls will be aw_ma*» . • a m SSK T mVlriL toil t T tmifTTi nft - give ?oni a !.. 1 < - 1 r tk M mM **Dhd’th# - Mmec VavV ■braid. 7 ■ tJrSr '■£ zst*

MYSTERIOUS WOMAN.

® . ■* * UndpratAfiH o - * them ” “At least you know how to please them.” I “Four circulation figures prove that* But even as I spoke this woman's crown of argument, “the last word,” an answer to it sprung up in my own mind. His magazine was successful because he had the stufT of success in him, the energy and determination to- address his particular audience. He might have manned the ship of a yellow journal, he might have directed the destinies of a vehicle of literature, he might have molded the opinion of capital classes or their anti theses, as successfully as he managed this woman’s journal. He had been chosen to speak to women, and he spoke to them as directly, as-force fully as he would have spoken to a .political meeting or a meeting of the board of directors of a bank. He was a gifted executive. Like any othei broad shouldered, strong featured keen minded man, he scorned the rep utatton of being specialist in fern! nine psychology. - Other clever men have wisely giv en up reading the riddle of women For why attempt to understand then when other women are •*lways read) to act as interpreters. Set one wo man to catch another. Most men have sisters, and every man has 8 mother. These priestesses in the temple of femininity can always en lighten him. For women are not mys terfes to each other. Their conclu sions are correct because they build as men do not, upon the premise that woman is a reasonable being Women know that there is a reason even for her moods, that mental ■weather that men declare la so puz zling, though I have seen as many men as women in the clutch of mood. The difference is merely that the moods of men are governed by their stom achs; women’s moods by their hearts A woman’s mood is a knife edge or m downy cushion, according as hei heart hides a hurt or leaps with joy Moods are mental weather, but there is a reason for a change of weather Men not being subtle or industrious enough to seek out these reasons, die miss what they don’t understand a* something past understanding. A woman is low-spirited for days, and her husband remarks to hi* friends at luncheon: “Women are queer creatures.’’ He is at no pains whatever to learn why she is low-spir-ited. Whatever manifestation he la too mentally lazy to investigate h« sets down as A “woman’s way.” For every mood of woman there is a reason. She cannot cannot hide it from her mother. She could not hide it from her husband if he cared enough to try to find the reason. Woman is riota synonym for whim - sy. She is as amenable to the laws of cause and‘ 7 6ffect as any other ere ated being or thing; but men haven’t chosen to take the tremble to trace the effect to its cause. Even a woman’s lightning changes of mind, so puzzling to man, have their root in the natural order of cause and effect. r”

An element in her toafflingness is introduced by man himself. He has said, again and again, stupidly, that woman’s chief charm is her mystery. She has taken him at his word. Mystery has been multiplied, because men wanted mystery. “For goodness sake tell her she's* inscrutable. She loves it,” said a friend ot the most transparent woman I know. The transparent woman’s fiance had talked of inscrutability, scarcely knowing what it meant, and this lovable young woman had instantly tried to swathe herself in a veil of mysteryThe phrase would better go upon the rubbish heap of past follies, banished with 0»e “mother-in-law tyranny and the old maid angles.” Man gets mystery because he asks for it When the demand ceases the supply will vanish. ,'V“ Men and women are becoming more alike. They have more subjects in common than the former household expenses and children. They speak the same language, even to bits qf over-emphasis now and then They are comrades in a larger sense than ever before. A young man calls his sweetheart bis “pal.” and she is more charmed with the kinship this word Implies than if from some remote distance of misunderstanding he sent her a sonnet or a tiara. The young woman whose betrothed sent her engagement ring from London to Chicago by a messenger hoy has applied for divorce from the sender. • - *—Pssffi— v”.

A Useful Article.

When the edges ot doilies or table covers curl up, run freight-tape into the hems and they will lie perfectly smooth. The lame Is very good to run ta edges of sash curtains on book

Pointer for the ‘Follow Up'Man

Waste and Iron Age.’ But the* Dakota letter gets me.” Mrs. Grind looked over his shoulder as he sat down and tore open the envelope of the letter, which did seem to be addressed in a feminine hand- Its penmanship was good—that of an educated woman—and from their reading of it several thing were evident. The writer had spotted Mr. Grind as an eminent authority on waste of alt kinds; she lived In a stock country, whose people' were mostly on the move, and, as she expressed It* “lived out of tin cans;” and she wanted to find out how and where to sell these tin cans, with which her country was cluttered and which were going to waste. Further, she was not greatly blessed with the goods of this world and would “find life more enjoyable” If she could discover a market for bones and cattle and badger hair, with which the prairies were covered; she had boys and teams, but no markets.

“Now, I don’t care what you say” [and as the eyes of the readers met Mr. Grind could see that his wife was half laughing and .half crying] .“that’s a real pitiful letter. Dear old soul! With all her boys and teams —tin cans, bones, and hair, all around—-but no place to send ’em to. I can just see her In the Dakota ranch, with old clothes on and cracked knuckles, writing here and there, trying to follow up this business that makes money from thrown away things—ls one only knows where to sell ’em—and supposing you know all about it because you wrote as if you did.’’ “But she’s not so far out of the way as these so-called business men who have been writing to me,” interposed Grind, “for the last three years on the supposition that I’m a wholesale dealer in all kinds of waste products.” Now this Ms. Grind once, when in a desperate moment, needing an overcoat, slid over a raft of fanciful topics and selected “Rags-Old-Iron” for his subject, wrote it up, sold it, and got an overcoat big enough to flop around his heels. Those “follow-up” fellows saw the article, got his address from the city directory, and for two or three years have been trying to sell him carloads of iron and other metals, rags, burlaps, and all the castoffs mentioned in his article. They are the same fellows who advertise thus: . “WANTED—Position, where the abilities of a first class follow-up man, a business getter, will be appreciated; have made a study of letter forms and correspondence, %nd when I once get on the trail of a man he cannot escape.”' “I don’t think you have anything on me.” announced Grind Jr., who had entered, in his new high school graduation suit. “I’m still getting letters from ' four business colleges which commenced to send me circulars when I graduated from grammar school four years ago, inviting me to take special summer courses, special winter courses, and what-not to make up for my deficiencies in writing, spelling, and arithmetic. You’d think some of those guys would wake up after three or four years and say to themselves, ‘Jimmy Grind, Jr., must be quite a lad by this time. He’s either got through high school and kaows how to write a fair letter, multiply twelve times twelve, and spell two syllable words, or made up his mind somewhere near what he wants to make of himself. So I guess I'll quit trim at him and save my shots for somebody I know something about.’ ” Out of this conference on tho hit or miss follow-up methods as applied to one small family it may be that the business may get at least one pointer toward practical reform. In short, you follow-up men revise yon lists once in a while. The Dakoti woman tells her own story of strurgling in the dark for information and something to “make life more enjoyable,” but you are supposed to be business men. 8o don’t shoot in the dark until you get gray. Wake up and find out how many of your shots really hit anybody.

A SURPRISING THOUGHT.

Tte solemnity Q f tb<j meeting was somewhat dlstur' ed when the eloquent young theologian pictured in glowing words the selfishness of men who spent their evenings at the clubs, leaving their wive* la loneliness at home. “Think, my hearers,’* said be. of a poor, neglected wife, all alone In the gTeat, dreary house. rocking the cradle of her steering babe with one foot and wiping away her tears with the other.” The lieutenant rushed up to tin bridge sod saluted. “Captain,” he shouted—for th« roar of the artillery wap deafening—“the enemy has got oar range.” v~.. The captain frowned. “Curse the luck,” be grow ted. "Now, how can the hook get dinner.” Laughter te the sunshine of existence; flood yourself with It and let It overflow to ethers.

number of acres wanted.—M. H. waller, Bristol, Ind. . k . ■ I, ■ ■■■■ --" '»■') ■!, .>■' ■ ■"■■■■lffi ■■■■ '■ ■ iu-1 ■-■ ■ tin ■- For Sale—A good bunch of pure bred thiroc Jerseys, both males and females. Inquire of John R. Lewis, Phone 512-K, R. F. D. No. 1, 10 miles northeast of Rensselaer. . , — —'™ 1 - 1 1 1 * " - For Sale—Some Du roc male and female shoats. C. A. Reed, R. D. 3, phone 535 A For Sale—46s fer a Birdsell high grade phaeton carriage, wide Mat, good as new, cost $285. Will throw In one set of harness, leather tty net, two collars and one whip. B. Forsythe, at home. * For Sale—Spring chickens for fries. Phone 448, j For Sale—Pore 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. FOB BEET. ■ •in ii. ii i ti ■■■ ■ IH > For Bent-Barn, located on North Cullen street.—Mrs, James Matheson, Phone 446. —■ Wanted—l want to rent a welldrained farm of 160 or 320 acres, for a term of 3 years, the landlord to 199* used to purchase stock and implements to run the farm. Will pay a rental of three-fifths of grain and tow delivered to the elevator or railroad. Address Box T. Mt Ayr, Ind. —■ - Tis—wawM MS*. - Lost-A pair of gold rimmed glasses. Finder please return to this office. It you want good bread try The Beat Ever,” Mrs. Green’s HOME MADS. To insure prompt delivery place orders the day before. Phone 477. »■———■■■.■ MOSEY TO LOAJT. ; i The Union Central Ufa Insurance Co. has made a big appropriation of money to be loaned on good farms in 'Jasper county and offers a liberal contract without commission. John A. Dunlap. Agent. AUTOMOBILES. - - —* —— We have on oar floor ready for doFOB SALE. ' 66 acres, good buildings, six miles 60 acres, mile out. stone road, $1.60. 120 acres half-mile out, wall im-» u 'i!! .’wT' **° od bu " d ‘“‘‘. “** <m:hard, well tiled, half-* 160 aero, in Kum, 100 .cm. in