Evening Republican, Volume 19, Number 177, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 28 July 1915 — Page 2

HISLOVE STORY

by MARIE VAN VORST

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SYNOPSIS. - "g Ij« Comte de Sabron, captain of French cavalry, takes to his quarters to raise by hand a motharleaa Irish terrier pup. and names It Pltchoune. He dines with the Marquise d’Escllamae and meets Miss Julia Redmond. American heiress, who sings for him an English ballad that Ungers In his memory. CHAPTER lll—Continued. That evening the Marquise d’Escllgnac read aloud to her niece the news that the Count de Sabron was not coming to dinner. He was “absolutely desolated” and had no words to express his regTet and disappointment. The pleasure of dining with them both, a pleasure to which he had looked forward for a fortnight, must be renounced because he was obliged to 6lt up with a very sick friend, as there was no one else to take his place. In expressing his undying devotion and his renewed excuses he put bis homage at their feet and kissed their hands. The Marquise d'Escllgnac, wearing another very beautiful dress, looked up at taar niece, who was playing at the piano. "A very poor excuse, my dear Julia, and a very late one." "It sounds true, however. I believe him. don’t you, ma tante?” "I do not,” said the marquise emphatically. “A Frenchman of good education Is not supposed to refuse a dinner Invitation an hour before he is expected. Nothing but a case of life and death would excuse It” “He says a 'very sick friend.’ ” "Nonsense,” exclaimed the marquise. Miss Redmond played a few bars of the tune Sabron had hummed and which more than once had soothed Pltchoune, and which, did she know, Sabron was actually humming at that moment ■ Tam rather disappointed.” said the young girl, "but If we find it is a matter of life and death, ma taifte, we will forgive him?” The Marquise d’Escllgnac had invited the Count de Sabron because she had been asked to do so by his colonel, who was an old and valued friend. She had other plans for her niece. "I feel, my dear,*’ she answered her now, “quite 6afe in promising that if it la a question of life and death we shall forgive him. I shall see his colonel tomorrow and aßk him pointblank.” Miss Redmond rose from the piano and came over to her aunt, for dinner had been announced. “Well, what do you think,” she slipped her hand in her aunt’s arm, “really, what do you think could be the reason?’ "Please don’t ask me,” exclaimed the Marquise d'Escllgnac impatiently. “The reasons for young men's caprices are sometimes Just as well not inquired into." If Sabron, smoking in his bachelor quarters, lonely and disappointed, watching with an extraordinary fidelity by his “sick friend," could have oeen the two ladies at their grand solitary dinner, his unfilled place between them, he might have felt the picture charming enough to have added to his collection.

CHAPTER IV. The Dog Pays. Pitchoune repaid what was given him. He did not think that by getting •well, reserving the right for the rest of his life to a distinguished limp In his right leg, that he had done all that was expected of him. He developed an ecstatic devotion to the captain, impossible for any human heart adequately to return. He followed Sabron like a shadow and when he could not follow him, took his place on a chair In the window, there to sit, his sharp profile against the light, his pointed ears forward, watching for the uniform he knew and admired extravagantly. Pitchoune was a thoroughbred, and •very muscle and fiber showed it, every hair and point asserted It. and he loved as only thoroughbreds can. Ton may say what you like about mongrel attachments, the thoroughbred in all cases reserves his brilliancy for crises. Sabron, who had only seen Miss Redmond twice and thought about her countless times, never quite forgave his friend for the illness that kept him from the chateau. There was in Sabron’s mind, much as he loved Pitchoune, the feeling that if he had gone that night . . ■ There was never another invitation! “Voyons, mon cher,” his colonel said to him kindly the next time !be met him, “what stupidity have you ‘been guilty of at the Chateau d’Escli**Poor Salmon blushed and shrugged “I assure you," said the colonel, “that I did you harm there without iknowlng it. Madame d’Esclignac, who ijg a Te ry clever woman, asked me with lliilnrwft aw* sympathy, who your ‘very glck friend' could be. As no one was very sick according to my knowledge if fold her so. She seemed triumphant — ■« « saw at once that I had put you the wrong."

It would have been simple to have explained to the colonel, but Sabron, reticent and reserved, did not choose to do so. He made a very insufficient excuse, and the colonel, as well as the marquise, thought ill of him. He learned later, with chagrin, that his friends were gone from the Midi. Rooted to the spot himself by his duties, he could not follow them. Meanwhile Pltchoune thrived, grew, cheered his loneliness, jumped over a stick, learned a trick or two from Brunet and a great many fascinating wiles and ways, no doubt inherited from his mother. He had a sense of humor truly Irish, a power of devotion that we designate as "canine,’ no doubt because no member of the human race has ever deserved It. CHAPTER V. The Golden Autumn. Sabron longed for a change with autumn, when the falling leaves made the roads golden roundabout the Chateau d'Escllgnac. He thought he would like to go away. He rode his horse one day up to the property of the hard-hearted unforgiving lady and, finding the gate open, rode through the grounds up to the terrace. Seeing no one, he sat in his saddle looking over the golden country to the Rhone and the castle of the good King Rene, where the autumn mists were like banners floating from towers. There was a solitary beauty around the lovely place that spoke to the young officer with a sweet melancholy. He fancied that Miss Redmond must often have looked out from one of the windows, ahd he wondered which one. The terrace was deserted and leaves from the vines strewed it with red and golden specters. Pitchoune raced after them, for the wind started them flying, and he rolled his tawny little body over and over in the rustling leaves. Then a rabbit, which before the arrival of Sabron had been sitting comfortably on the terrace stones, scuttled away like mad, and Pitchoune, somewhat hindered by his limp, tore after it. The deserted chateau, the fact that there was nothing in his military life beyond the routine to interest him now in Tarascon, made Sabron eagerly look forward to a change, and he waited for letters from the minister of war which would send him to a new post. The following day after his visit to the chateau he took a walk, Pitchoune at his heels, and stood aside in the highroad to let a yellow motor pass him, but the yellow motor at that mo-

Stood Aside to Let a Motor Pass Him.

ment drew up to the side of the road while the chauffeur got out to adjusf some portion of the mechanism. Someone leaned from the yellow motor window and Sabron came forward to speak to the Marquise d’Esclignac and another lady by h,er side. "How do you do. Monsieur? Do you remember us?” (Had he ever forgotten them?) He regretted so very much not having been able to dine with them in the spring. “And your sick friend?” asked Madame d’Esclignac keenly, “did he recover?" “Yes,” said Sabron, and Miss Redmond, who leaned forward, smiled at him and extended her pretty hand. Sabron opened the motor door, “What a darling dog!” Miss Redmond cried. “What a ’bewitching face he has! He’s an Irish terrier, isn’t he?” Sabron called Pitchoune. who diverted his attention from the chauffeur to come and be hauled up by the collar and presented. Sabron shook off his reticence. "Let me make a confession,” he said with a courteous bow. “This 1» jny ‘very sick friend.’ Pitchoune was at the point of death the night of your dinner and I was just leaving the house when I realized that the helpless little chap could not weather tbs

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN, RENSSELAER, INP,

breeze without me. Be had been m over by a bicycle and be needed *ow ▼erv special care.” Miss Redmond’s hand was on Pltchoune’s head between his pointed earß. She looked sympathetic. She looked amused. She smiled. “It was a question of ‘life and death,’ wasn’t it?" she said eagerly to Sabron. "Really, It was Just that," answered the young officer, not knowing how significant the words were to the two ladies. Then Madame d’Escllgnac knew that she was beaten and that she owed something and was ready to pay. The chauffeur got upon his seat and she asked suavely: "Won’t you let us take you home, Monsieur Sabron?” He thanked them. He was walking and had not finished his exercise. "At all events,” she pursued, "now that your excuse is no longer a good one, you will come this week to dinner, will you not?” He wouid, of courne, and watched the yellow “motor drive away in the autumn sunlight, wishing rather less for the order from the minister of war to change his quarters than he had before. CHAPTER VI. Ordered Away. He had received his letter from the minister of war. Like many things w-e wish for, set our hopes upon, when they come w r e find that we do not want them at any price. The order was unwelcome. Sabron was to go to Algiers. Winter is never very ugly around Tarascon. Like a lovely bunch of fruit In the brightest corner of a happy vineyard, the Midi is sheltered from the rude experiences that the seasons know farther north. Nevertheless, rains and winds, sea-born and vigorous, had swept in and upon the little town. The mistral came whistling and Sabron, from his window, looked down on his little garden from which summer had entirely flown. Pitchoune, by his side, looked down as well, but his expression, different from his master's, was ecstatic, for he saw sliding along the brick wall, a cat with which he was on the most excited terms. His body tense, his ears for. ward, he gave a sharp series of barks and little soft growls, while his master tapped the window-pane to the tune of Miss Redmond’s song. Although Sabron had heard it several times, he did not know the words or that they were of a semi-religious, extremely sentimental character which would have been difficult to translate into French. He did not know that they ran something like this: God keej) you safe, my love. All through the night; Rest close In Ills encircling arms Until the light. And there w r as more of it. He only knew that there was. a pathos in the tune which spoke to his warm heart: which caressed and captivated him and which made him long deeply for a happiness he thought it most unlikely he would ever know. There had been many pictures added to his collection: Miss Redmond at dinner. Miss Julia Redmond —he» knew her first name now—before the piano; Miss Redmond in a smart coat, walking with him down the alley, while Pitchoune chased flying leaves and apparitions of rabbits hither and thither The Count de Sabron had always dreaded just what happened to him. He had fallen in love with a woman beyond his reach, for he had no fortune whatsoever, nothing but his captain's pay and his hard soldier’s life, a wanderer’s life and one which he hesitated to ask a woman to share. In spite of the fact that Madame d'Esclignac was agreeable to him, she was not cordial, and he understood that she did not consider him a parti for her niece. Other guests, as well as he, had shared her hospitality. He had been jealous of them, though he could not help seeing Miss Redmond’s preference for himself. Not that he wanted to help it. He recalled that she had really sung to him, decidedly walked by his side when there had been more than the quartette, and he felt, in short, her sympathy. "Pltchoune,” he said to his companion, “we are better off in Algiers, mon vleux. The desert Is the place for us. We shall get rid of fancies there and do some hard fighting one way or another.” (TO BE CONTINUED.)

Worth While Quotation.

The pleasure that we take in beautiful nature is essentially capricious. It comes sometimes when we least look for it, and sometimes, when we expect it most certainly, it leaves us to gape joylessly for days together. We may have passed a place a thousand times and one, and on the thousand and second it will be transfigured, and stand forth in a certain splendor of reality from the dull circle of surroundings, so that we see it “with a child's first pleasure.” as Wordsworth saw the daffodils by the lakeside. —Robert Louis Stevenson.

Sure to Set What He Wanted.

The doctor told him he needed car* bohydrates, proteids, and above all. something nitrogenous. The doctor mentioned a long list of foods for him to eat He staggered out and wabbled into a restaurant "How about beefsteak?" he asked the waiter. “Is that nitrogenous?** The waiter didn’t know. "Are fried potatoes rich In carbohydrates or not?” The waiter couldn’t say. “Well, I’ll fix it.” declared the poos man in despair. “Bring ms a largs plats of bash **

ACRES OF CANNON CAPTURED BY THE GERMANS

Scenes at the Krupp works at Essen, Germany, showing acres of field and siege guns captured from the English, French and Russians and sent to Essen to be repsßed and remodeled.

"RICH LADIES” ARE ARRESTED

Girls Entertain Lavishly While Owners of Handsome Residence in Pittsburgh Are Away. Pittsburgh, Pa. —‘‘I did so want to know what it felt like to be rich and entertain people in a fine house,” was the excuse given by Audray Garvin, aged nineteen, who, with her sister Jeanne, aged seventeen, had played “lady” while her employer, Mrs. Eugene S. Reilly of No. 1047 Negley avenue, was away from her home. Audray Garvin was left in charge of the Reilly house three weeks ago w’hile the family went away. She sent for her sister and together the couple entertained many young men lavishly. Among their guests were students of Pittsburgh university and Carnegie “Tech.” When Mrs. Reilly arrived home she learned of the girls’ pranks and had them arrested. Audray said when arrested: “I should have married one of those rich fellows while I had the chance. ’

COULDN’T WED; ADOPTS HIM

Los Angeles Woman Takes a Singer, Whose Voice Attracted Her, Into Family. Los Angeles.—The sweet voice of Alois Mayer, twenty-seven years old, who earns his living by singing in a case, and whose parents were alive in Germany the last he heard, won him a fortune when the superior court granted the petition of Mrs. Edith Amos, forty-seven, to adopt him as a son. Mrs. Amos, who said she had been attracted by the singing, which reminded her of her own dead boy, is the daughter of Mrs. Mary A. Burke of San Francisco. At her death Mrs. Burke left an estate valued at about $1,000,000. “I couldn’t very well marry him,” Mrs. Amos told Judge Sidney N. Reeve in urging her petition. Mayer came here from Munich a couple of years ago. He said he had not heard from his parents for months.

NELSON GIFT TO NAVY LEAGUE

Plate From Famous Admiral’s Collection Presented Under Certain Conditions. London. —A well wisher has placed at the disposal of the Navy league 23 pieces of plate which were at one time the property of Admiral Lord Nelson and bearing his arms and used by him on the Victory up to the day of his death at the battle of Trafalgar. The conditions attaching to the gift are: That a sum of not less than the equivalent of $325 for each piece of plate be raised by the Navy league, which amount shall be paid ever to the British Red Cross society and the Order of St. John of Jerusalem in equal shares, and that the plate be presented in separate pieces to such of the British warships as shall have done conspicuous service during the present war.

WIFE QUITS THE PARSONAGE

Pastor-Husband Forgets Art of Kissing and Young Bride Returns to Her Mother. St. Louis —Mrs. Eugenia Anderson, nineteen years old, seven-months bride of Rev. Arthur R. Anderson, pastor of the Central Christian church in Granite City, has returned to the home of her mother, Mrs. Minnie Koch of this city, because, she says, her husband would not kiss her. She told a reporter that, in the last two months, her husband had kissed her but once, and that this lone salute was bestowed, not upon her lips, true lover fashion, but in a half hearted way on her cheek. ghe said she did not wish to be divorced, and would be glad to resume her place as mistress of the manse, if her husband would only give her a little affection.

Pass Up 5,000 Pennies.

Nee York. —After five thousand pennies in a canvas bag had been ignored for half an hour by passersby. Joseph Poeriss, fifteen, picked it from the sidewalk in the busiest section of Brooklyn. A bank messenger had lost It.

TAKING OF CARENCY

Soldier Describes Horrible Fighting in Storming Ruined City. Town a Regular Fortress, All the .Houses Communicated by Cellars and Underground Passages — Kill With Hand Grenades. Paris—The horrible fighting which resulted in the taking of ruined Carency by the French is described thus by a soldier in a letter received here: “At 10 a. m., with knapsacks and with our pouch bags well stored with grenades and melinite peta'rds, we left our trenches, and along a front of one and a fourth miles rushed the first German trench. We were allowed ten minutes; it took us exactly 17 seconds. All the Boches in the trench were killed or captured. We at once cut the electric wires, for everything was mined. “Away to the second trench, which is carried in the same manner. We took many prisoners and a heap of spoil. The machine guns we at once swung round and so peppered the enemy with their own projectiles. We exploded mines, which made holes 40 yards in diameter and ten yards deep. Numbers of Boches were buried. Others lay on the parapets or in the trenches, horribly cut up—some decapitated, others bayoneted. They had been taken by surprise, and could not make use of their asphyxiating bombs. “In the evening we seized a cemetery. Hot fighting. We lost pretty heavily, for the enemy fought bravely, and made good use of his machine guns. In the night they bombarded us plentifully, but we lay low in their holes, and our losses were very slight. “Monday passed in the attack of other points and the consolidation of our positions and investment of Carency, which is a regular fortress. All the houses communicate by the cellars and underground passages. Everywhere deep, well-defended trenches. Mitrailleuses in the houses and 77 millimeter and one 105 millimeter guns in the big farm. “On Tuesday morning, with a rush, we enter Carency. It has to be taken house by house. No sooner was one taken than the enemy fled into the next. They shot at us through the cellar gratings. We crawled up under the walls and threw down grenades. Heaps of them were killed in the cellars. “At noon the whole of Carency was ours. A lieutenant whom we took prisoner blew out his brains. <‘l entered a lieutenant’s cabin. First of all, on top was a ten-foot layer of earth, covered with green sods. Twelve steps led down to the living room, which was 13 feet by 16 feet, with a glass paneled door and curtains. Enormous tree trunks propped up the whole. “The walls were lined with morocco, probably ‘lifted’ from some case, and the ceiling was linoleum. Gilt laths held everything fast. On the right was a comfortable walnut bed; on the left a square table with a new oilcloth covering; in the middle, a fine lamp on a stand, and in the recess a Prussian stove. Knickknacks, books, valuable odds and ends lay about on shelves. Boxes of cigars, hams, butter, sausage, beer. “The Germans, fighting inch by inch, fell back on Ablain. We were now beyond Carency and across the water. All the Boches hiding there were killed or thrown in. Six prisoners had been taken, and left under the care of a theatrical gentleman. We went on, and the prisoners fell upon him and killed him and then ‘skedaddled.’ ”

Coffin Found by Workmen.

Ladoga, Ind. —The remains of a coffin containing some fragments of human bones was unearthed here by workmen excavating for a cellar in New Ross. The grave was not near a cemetery. About fifty years ago a man named Noffsinger disappeared mysteriously from New Ross and was not seen or heard from afterward. Residents of New Ross believe he met with foul play and was buried in the big woods, which then covered the land where, the grave was found.

FLEES DOWN A PHONE WIRE

But It Cuts His Hand and New York Policeman Cat<jhes the Fugitive. New York. —Three men alighted from an auto at One Hundred and Eleventh street and Lenox avenue at four o’clock yesterday afternoon and, leaving the chauffeur in the machine, entered the apartment house, 109 West One Hundred and Eleventh street. Soon a tenant phoned to the West One Hundred and Twenty-third street police station that three burglars were in the flat of John Gray on the third floor. When Patrolman Clinchy arrived the men had fled to the roof. Clinchy got there in time to see two go down the rear fire escape. The third man started to slide down on a telephone wire. The wire cut his hands so badly that at the seqond floor he swung himself through & window of Charles Levy’s flat. Clinchy followed, found him hiding behind a bed and arrested hifh. The prisoner described himself as James Regan, a chauffeur, of 214 West One Hundred and Fortieth street. His hands had to be dressed by a doctor. The other men fled In the machine.

POPE BENEDICT XV

Latest photograph of the ruler of the Roman Catholic church who is using his influence and his office to end the war in Europe.

COST $17 TO HANG A MAN

Old Warrants in Rush County, Indiana, Show Some Curious Statistics. Rushville, Ind. —The first record of warrants ever used by a treasurer of Rush county, covering the period from 1822 to 1841, was found in the treasurer’s office recently. The record showed that it cost the county only sl7 to hang Edward L. Swanson, the only man who ever paid the death penalty in Rush county. He was convicted of the murder of Elisha Clark, in April, 1829, and after a motion for a new trial failed, was hanged in May of the same year. The warrants issued show that $5 was allowed Beverly R. Ward for making & coffin for Swanson, $2 was allowed David Looney for digging the grave, and $lO was paid William L. Bupelt for “rope, cap, shroud and gallows for the execution of” Edward I. Swanson."

Wore Out Two Doctors.

Detroit—Dr. D. B. Downey, one of the city physicians, is back at his desk *fter being laid up for five months with diphtheria of the eye, contracted when a child he was treating for diphtheria coughed in his face. Doctor Downey was blind for two months and had to be led around, and for several weeks was laid up hi St Mary’s hospital. Diphtheria of the eye is a very rare affliction.