Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 275, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 17 November 1913 — Page 2

CALLED ON A MAN

By H. M. EGBERT.

“I hear Caleb Trevethan’s home again," said little Miss Simpson, coming up to Lillian Darrell as she sat sewing upon the stoop. “Fahey, after all these years!" Lillian looked up gravely. “I heard it too,” she said. “It must be 14 years since he was in Port Smith," continued Miss Simpson. “And he hasn’t showed his face among the neighbors yet* Weren’t you and he sort of—” “Engaged?" asked Lillian, conscious of her heightened color. “Yes —once.” “Dear me, who would ever think of you as having been engaged, my dear!” soliloquized the visitor. “That is—l mean, of course, you and 1 seem to be such settled creatures.” That was a bitter word, but it was a true one. The women who stayed at home in the little New England town had just half the opportunity of being married that those had who went away. That was a matter of statistics. There were twice as many women as men in Port Smith. And Lillian had stayed at home.

Her sister Anna had gone to the city to be a stenographer, and had married a rich lumber merchant. She wrote from time to time, but never came back. Her other sister, Marian, had become a hospital nurse and married a rising young doctor. Lillian was thirty-three. She had stayed at home because she was the eldest, and Bomebody had to care for her mother. Caleb Trevethan had been the only son of old Hiram Trevethan, who owned the homestead at the top of Maple avenue, nearly a half mile distant. He had left Port Smith, as all the young men did, and, like all, had left his sweetheart behind, promising to return - Lillian could remember that last night as vividly as if it had been yesterday. “I shall come back for you, dear,” he had said. “And I shall write to you every week, or oftener. Promise me that you will wait for me till then.” “Till when?” asked the girl, feeling utterly lonely and desolate. “Three years,” said Caleb, clenching his fists to emphasize his words. “In three years’ time I shall come back and take you away with me. Promise me, dear.” Lillian promised. Then she did something that she had never done before; ste raised her lips to his. And the night air became suddenly fragrant, and her heart swelled with happiness. So*' Caleb Vent away, and for two whole months his Jetters came. He was doing well, he said; he had a position with a big mill. It might be less than three years. Then the letters came less often and grew more formal. And at last they •ceased. Lillian lived on with her sick mother, until her death, a year before. Her sisters left, one after the other, and married. Lillian heard of Caleb at times. He had become a partner at <he age of thirty. Then the big consolidation had come and he was a power in Wall strdet before he was thirty-five. Then, only six months before, she had read the news of his engagement. She was amazed to find herself so little moved. The past had and half forgotten. The girl who had loved so passionately was not she but somebody of whom she thought with a wistful, kindly smile. And Caleb had been three days in the old homestead. He was alone, save for the old housekeeper. He had not brought his car, but had walked up from the station at night, like any traveler. He must have passed her house. “T-nHani —what An you think! ex■claimed Miss Simpson on the following day. “Have you seen today’s papers? No? Well, Caleb Trevethan is a bankrupt. He had to run away from New York. They’re talking of prosecuting him. And he’s hiding in his house because he doesn’t dare face the people who used to know him.” "And—and his wife?” asked Lillian, timidly. "I guess she’s not the kind that would stand by him when he’s in trouble,” answered Miss Simpson. “Though now I come to think of it, whom did he marry?” Lillian did not know what she answered. Caleb returning, to revisit his home, was one thing, but Caleb in trouble! That was quite different. To her amazement she fqund that all the old feelings had come rushing back as if the thirteen years had never elapsed. She put on her hat and started up the street On every porch women ' were rocking in the cool of the afternoon, watching the passers-by. One hailed her. “Come in. Miss Darrell,” she said. “You look as if were on an errand, -though." “Yes,” answered Lillian. I’m going * to call on Mr. Trevethan." An electric shock would have Btunned the other less. Lillian jning shamelessly to call on her old Dead — call on a man —a fugitive, waiting for the officers of the law to come for him! She must have loved Caleb Trevethan mighty badly, then! "You see,” explained Lillian, “now that he is in trouble somebody ought to show him that his old friends are his friends still. Don’t you think so?" “O yes—yes,” answered the other vaguely. It was a fine sentiment, but —Lillian was going to call on a man! The girl knew what they thought fUM had known it before she started.

But the instinct of loyalty waa l stronger than the sense of shame. What did she care for misinterpretations? He was in trouble, perhaps ill, and she would show him that, in spite of all, Port Smith was not. going to take sides against him. But as she entered the gatp of the old house a faintness came over her, and she had to summon all her energy'" to overcome it She had not seen him for 13 years, and she pictured Caleb as a boy still, with that adventurous light in his eyes. It did not occur to her that the years bring changes. The door stood open. Lillian knocked, knocked again, and then went in. The parlor door was ajar ateo. In a far corner of the room a man was standing before a mirror. As she entered he turned slowly round and Lillian saw something shining in his hand. The next moment she had flung herself upon him and wrenched it away and thrown it down. “Caleb!” Bhe gasped. A mask seemed to fall from his face. “Lillian M” he .cried. The mirror reflected their faces. How he had changed! "This was nolonger the adventurous boy, but a man with the years of hopes and dreams behind him, seared with the battle of life, and not quite, spotless from the arena. . a

“Lillian,” Bald Caleb, “I was going to kill myself. I have lost everything for which I fought so many years. Then you camp, unless it was some purpose of destiny. Why did you come?” She flung her bead back proudly. “To show you,” she said, “that whatever the world may say of you we do not forget—at home. We are , proud of what you have done, Caleb. And we know that that was only the temptation of despair. You are not going under beneath the first blow of fortune. Ydu are going back to fight again, and win.” He seemed to wince under her words, in spite of the pride in them. “That you should tell me this!” he muttered. “But I want you to know something, Lljlian. I always meant to come back to you. When I saw how hard the battle was to be I felt I could not hold you fairly. But I meant to come back —heaven knows I did. Only —the years passed.” “Yes, the years pass,” she answered. “They take many f&ings from us.” “But not our first loves,” said Caleb. “Lillian, when I came back, baffled and beaten, I dared to hope that you were free. But I could not face you. “And your wife?” she asked, with a sudden gesture of weariness. “It was in the papers—the engagement, you know.” Caleb Trevethan flung back his head and laughed. “A petty blackmailing scheme,” he said. Lillian, I have to face those things daily. That’? part of the game. Dear, I wish I had had you by my side during the battle. But I’m going back to win now —*only, I must have you. A good deal has gone by. Will you make the most of what is left to us, Lillian ” And suddenly she found that it was be who was the stronger after all. But it was the strength she had given. (Copyright, 1913, by the McClure Newspaper Syndicate.)

Trusts In Asia Minor.

About the year 100 B. C. Thyatira came under the power of Rome, and though in the days of the republic it suffered much from oppression and extortion great commercial prosperity came to it with the inauguration of the empire. About the time that St. John wrote tiie Revelation it was at the height of its wealth and prosperity as a business city. It is known that there were more trade guilds in Thyatira than in any other city of Asia, for inscriptions tell us that there were guilds of linen workers, wool workers, dyers, bronzesmiths, potters, bankers, tanners and slave dealers. The selling of ready-made garments was an important business of Thyatira, but whether there were the accompaniments of sweatshops, long hours and scanty pay, we are not told. — Correspondence of the Christian Herald.

Piling on the “Extras.”

One of the things which helps swell the traveler’s, expenses, both in this codntry and abroad, is the “extra” It may or may not be charged in the bill, but it is sure to be paid for. Probably even the most generous traveler, however, will have some sympathy for the gentleman in the following story, who was made to pay liberally for a certain annoying privilege. During his stay at the hotel the weather had been very hot “Charles,” said the landlord to the clerk who was making out the bill to be presented to the departing guest, "have you noticed that the gentleman in No. 7 has consulted the thermometer on the piazza at least ten times every morning during his stay here?” Charles replied that he had. •‘Well,” said the landlord, “charge him the price of one dinner a day for the use of the thermometer.” — Youth’s Companion.

Accuracy.

Accustom the children to close accuracy, both as a principle of honor ftw.i as an accomplishment of language, making truth the test of a perfect language, and giving the Intensity of a moral purpose to;~the. study and accuracy Jnto all habits of thought and observation, so as always to think of things as they.truly are, as far as In us rests —and it does Ireßt much In our power, for all false thoughts and seelngs come mainly of our thinking of what we have no business with and looking for things we want to see. Instead of things which ought to be seen. —Ruskln.

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN, RENSSELAER, IND,

Practical Set in Natural Marabout.

MARABOUT is another name for down, which is coming more and more into use as a substitute for furs in muffs and neckpieces. Down forms a part of the plumage of so many birds (all of them, perhaps), that we need not concern ourselves as to its origin. It comes in white and what is called “natural” color, by which is understood a dark brownish gray or taupe color. It is also dyed into any color wanted. Ostrich is used in conjunction with it oftentimes in making up neckpieces and muffs. There are many grades of marabout, and at first glance it is not easy to distinguish between the fine and the poor goods. All are fluffy and attractive. But the best grade is selected and has lymg silky fibers. Marbout is more attractive in white or the natural color than in any of the dyed colors, unless it be the pale tints of blue or pink or yellow. Bands of it are fashionable as a dress trimming. There is an increasing demand for it for this purpose. Whenever a fur border might be used the marabout substitute Is altogether satisfactory. It is so light in weight that it sometimes has an advantage over fur in this respect. Made up into neckpieces and muffs

OPERA TUNIC AND HEADDRESS IN LATEST MODE

AVERY brilliant toilette, in fact, about the most brilliant (speaking literally), may be accomplished with one of the spangled and beaded tunics which are purchased ready to adjust over a princess slip of silk or other suitable fabric. These tunics range in price from inexpensive ones of beaded net or chiffon at fifteen to twenty-five dollars up to expensive ones at fifty dollars or jnore. They are fragile but brilliant, and they are very graceful. The weight of the beads in fringe or ornamental band about the bottom holds the garment to the figure. It need hardly be mentioned that they are at least in questionable taste when worn in daytime. Tunics fashionable just now show a predominance of small crystal beads and bugles in their composition. But there is a mixture of these with spangles and jewels—especially pearls. The pattern is sewed on net—a strong, fine Brussels net, as a rule —but mous-selaine-de-soie and dress-chiffon are also used for garments in which,.th©embroidery of beads ismot very heavy. A really gorgeous evening gown is shown here, consisting Of a white satin princess over which an embroidered tuhic of white chiffon is worn. This is richly embroidered with beads in black and white, with a generous mixture of rhinestones. The design leaves nothing to bfe desired for the woman whose figure is fine enough to warrant a garment designed to set it off. There is a “baby” waist of white chiffon with moderately low neck. The choice of black or white, or black and white in these beaded tunics is a happy on£. Gray, blue and tan or brown are also tasteful. With so much “shine” in the embroidery, very brilliant colors are not needed. There is a certain reserve in the quieter tones that is an element of beauty. Witi the tunic pictured here a silk girdle in one of the hew bright colors is worn finished with a lovely corsage rose. The corsage rose is a feature of these gowns so altogether beautiful, and appropriate that one cannot tire of it or imagine anything quite so good in its place. It is a sort of. sumning - a symbol of the gown and the wearer. These roses are made of silk or ribbon fn most cases. Velvet is effectively use for them, and millinery rose foliage in vflvet Is sparingly used with them, and sometimes no foliage appears in their mounting. For the completion of such a toilet a careful coiffure must be planned and

it is the most desirable wear for between seasons. There is an unbelievable amount of warmth in it. It seems to.generate heat, but of course it only Holds it. This gives it a cozy feel, which for days that are simply chilly and not severely cold, is pure comfort. In sets for early winter wear or for all winter wear its light weight commends it for concerts, matinees or visiting toiletes. A beautiful set is pictured here, consisting of a cape with fiscu ends, and a large, flat muff. It is in the natural taupe color, which Will harmonize with about every other color under the sun or shade. The cape is a new model fastening about the throat in the fashionable “V” shape. Soft ribbons, matching the marabout in color, are used as a decoration in it. The fischu ends give it sufficient length to be thrown close around the throat and over the shoulder in case the throat needs protection. Marabout is very grateful. It will stand much wear, for airing and shaking out cause the tiny flues to fluff ifi a way highly pleasing. It is as elegant as fur, and far less expensive than any fur that looks as well. JULIA BOTTOMLEY.

faultlessly executed. That one shown in the picture is fitting. It is one of those in which small ringlets or loose jsu#fs cover the crown of the head. A broad band of black velvet encircles the head, finished with a rhinestpne buckle at the front and a tall, upstanding ostrict, singleply plume, with head curling backward. It would be hard to imagine anything more complete and beautiful

than this conception. It is becoming to every type—blonde, brunette and all others. The feet are clothed In black satin slippers, black silk hose. Buckles of rhinestones or little rosettes of maline and ribbon adorn the toe of the slipper. JULIA BOTTOMLEY.

Blue Centerpiece.

A quaint and pretty centerpiece for the dining-room table, when it is not in use, is of white linen worked in china blues. Get a centerpiece of rather large size and stamp In cross-stitch design. Work the cross;StUching in several shades of blue and edge the center- 1 , piece with torchon or deny lace. The blue-and-white is particularly effective if there happens to be a piece of blue-and-white china near to echo the color note. Covers for the buffet and the serving table could also be made, and fUP ther carry out the color scheme.

SMILES

HARD TO PLEASE. A typical “mover” of the ultra-shift-less type was passing a few days at a cow camp in Arizona, preparatory to going into the desert on a prospecting trip. His wife, a tired out, faded out creature, complained to some of the cowhands of Jhe hardness of her lot; and the foreman took it upon himself to remonstrate with the husband for his shiftlessness and his indifference to his wife’s welfare. “The old woman ain’t got no kick coming!” said the hußband when he had heard the foreman’s remarks. "She ain’t got no kick at all. Why, stranger. When we wuz fixin’ to camp of a night many a time I’ve driven the team half a mile out of the wa| so’s wood and water would be handy fur the old woman to fetch!” —Saturday Evening Post

JUST THE THING.

“Here’s a dime, Willie. Go buy something nice.” “Thanks. I’ll buy an engagement ring fer me goil."

Turned Up.

I like to kiss a pretty miss Whose nose is retrousse. That kind of nose, with tilted pose, Is never in the way.

Metamorphosis.

Stranger (returning to the old home town after an absence of twenty years)—Well, well, well; how little the village has changed. You remember Red Splivvins we boys used to run around with —is Red still living here yet? Native —Is he? Well, I guess. Hey, Baldy! Baldy Splivvins! "Don’t you know your old friends when\you see ’em? Come over hefe"\ shake hands with Sam HankinSvXrom New York.

He Almost Knew.

“Ruggles, you used to work on a farm, didn’t you?” “Yes; I grew up on a farm.” “Then you can tell me what I want to know. Which siefe do you milk a cow on?” l “Well, it’s either the right or the left, I can’t remember which,”

The Real Feminine Power.

“So you don’t approve of those London suffragettes?” “I don’t know much about them,” replied Miss Cayenne, “but I can’t help feeling that a woman who can’t subdue a few men without the use of dynamite is something of a failure.”

A Sensitive Editor.

"Well, what do you think of my poem?” “How could you be so cruel?” “What do you mean?” “Why, in every line you have tortured the English language until I can almost imagine that I hear it cry out.”

TOO GREAT A RISK.

The Guide —Now, ez soon ez I kin borry a dorg we’ll be ready sos your huntin’ trip. .The Amateur Sport—Why, what’s the matter with your own dog? The Guide—Oh! he’s too valuable!

An Aerial Navy.

The Swiss have long made It their boast No need of ships without a coast. But airships make a change, we vow, And they will need a navy now.

Her Pet Pug.

"Won’t you weigh my dog?” said the girls The druggist reluctantly arranged hts scales and,reached for the canine. “I want to see if he gained anything while he was a\Kay," explained the girl.

Water Haul.

“Good-morning, ma-am. May I asfci if your husband is at home?” . AH§ isk’t" “Perhaps you can tell me what t want tb know. Is he carrying any life instance? ■Ns his life insured? Is that what you mean?” “Yes, ma’am.” “It is, sir. But don’t make the mistake of thinking he’s doing the carrying of the same. I’m doing that myself. And I’m carrying all he’s worth. Good-morning, sir.”

Missed the Boat.

"Your ancestors did not come over in the Mayflower!” snapped the tall, spare, thin-lipped Miss Hester Plymrock. 1 “No,” and Alias Ananias rubbed his chubby hands together, while an oily smirk spread over his fullmoon phiz. “You see, it was this a-way. The old man forgot to wind up the alarm clock and so missed the boat.” —Judge.

He Reproaches Her.

He —You upbraid me for losing money on the races—you? She —And why should I not? He —Yet I recall one blissful moment, not so long ago, when we stood together beneath the silent stars, and you said that no stroke of adverse fortune could ever draw from your lips one complaining word. —Puck.

Prince Charming.

“And you really once saw a prince?” “Yes.” “Oh!” she exclaimed, clasping her hands and gazing with awe toto the eyes that had looked upon royalty, “what was he (fifing-” “Trying to balance a chair on his chin to amuse a chorus girl.”—Judge.

Strong Presumptive Evidence.

Man With the Bulging Brow —You think I go across the street too often, hey? What put that notion in your cocoanut? Man With the Bulbous Nose —You’re always chawin’ some kind o’ perfumed gum.

HIS MAIL MOSTLY BILLS.

* Willie —Say, papay where does a 1! the mail come from? Papa —Mostly from people yon owe money to. ‘

“Her Name Is Legion.”

She's the prettiest maiden ‘That ever was born. Her lips are a rose And her tongue is its thorn. —Puck.

Bright Idea.

* Izaak —Oh, hang it, Mary, I forgot the bait. Miry— Do you suppose the fish would notice the difference if you were to use spaghetti?—Judge.

The Impecunious Artist.

“I wish you to paint me a picture of Eve and the apple.’’ "Could you advance me the price of a costume?” faltered the artist. ‘‘Why, Eve had no complicated costume.” “That’s so. Well, could you advance me the price of the apple?”

An Acceptable Excuse.

"I am so embarrassed when among fashionable ladies,” declared Mrs. Wombat. ‘‘Why so?” “I don’t smoke.” “That fteedn’t lose you any caste. Tell the other ladies that your doctor forbids it.”

Literal Anguish.

“Woman, you are undone!” hissed her rival in the amateur play. “Oh, where?” cried the heroine, trying to get a look at the back of her waist.

The Reason.

“He is always dead in earnest.” “That accounts for his grave expression.” *

Putting It Differently.

“Miss Wombat, will you be mine?” “Never.” The young man was jarred but not wholly discouraged. Presently he camd back in this fashion: “Well, will you let me be yours?”

Timely.

“Ah! I'm glad to get this sonnet!" exclaimed the editor. “Has it any merit?” asked his assistant. V“Not at all, but a stamp was Just what I needed. Th 6 poet sends two/