Evening Republican, Volume 20, Number 56, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 6 March 1916 — Page 2

Riches With Wings

By Frances E. Lanyon

(Copyright, 1916, by 1%. O. Chapman.) . "My daughter shall never marry out of her class!” vociferated self-opinion-ated old Joel Clarke. "Well. I’m not in her class. I’ll admit,” spoke Percy Lane, lugubriously. "She’s a princess, a queen, 1 know that.” "You mistake my meaning,” retorted Clarke, incisively. "Blanche is a poor man's daughter. You have become a scion of wealth. You’ll never have an opportunity to throw your wealth in her face.” “Oh!” drawled out honest, wellmeaning and madly-in-love Percy, “it’s the money? Why, first thing I got it, and all so unexpectedly, my thought was of Blanche, dear girl! and how delighted I’d be to be able to give her all the luxuries she deserves." “Wrong pew!” observed Clarke, Bententiously. “You’ve got my ultimatum. Go away.” “All right, sir.” "And stay away.” "Very well.” “And don’t ever come back again, for it will be no use.” ’T won’t, until I’m poor as a church mouse.” “You can't be that, with a big business block all your own, and all kinds of stocks and bonds and bank accounts, they tell me. No, go and marry a millionaire’s daughter. She’s the sort for you. You shan’t, Blanche. I’m a consistent man. Go away! ” this time thundered the old man. Percy Lane departed dolorously. It -was “hard luck!" He had always loved Blanche and she loved him in return. He was sure of that. So sure, he ruminated as he took the train back for his home town, "that I’ll write her my sentiments.” His “sentiments” were forthwith enunciated Jjl a brief-note, whieh he

“I'll Trade It Off for a Horse With a Spavin.”

Indited on the train and mailed that very evening. It ran: "Dear Blanche: Your father objects to a rich son-in-law. Watch me make ducks and dresses of the fortune Uncle Allen so kindly left me!” Poor, worrying Blanche received the note and proceeded to expect some terrible news from down Rushville way. She knew that it would be useless to appeal to or remonstrate with her resolute father. She forthwith wrote to a cousin in Rushville, asking her to keep her fully posted as to everything going on in general and about the man she loved in particular. Percy Lane started out to cut a wide swath. First and foremast, he sent for -all the poor relatives that Uncle Allen had forgotten in his will. He distributed the year’s income from the big business block among them. Then he went the rounds of the churcheß and local charity societies. His donations were princely. By this time his actual cash holdings had got pretty . low. ~ - -— —- — "I’ll make a thorough job of it.” decided Percy grimly, and the august conservative president of the local bank looked positively aghast one morning when Rercy entered the ,institution with the announcement: "There’s some stocks and bonds of mine here. P want them.” "My dear sir,” expostulated the old banker, "I hope you are not going to change the form of security; Those you now have are seasoned guaranteed investments.” “I know, I know,” responded Percy, lightly. “Well, I’m going to the city to try a scurry on the market.” “You’ll regret it, sir, let me assure you," prophesied the bapker. “If, however, you are bent on your own “I am,” asserted Percy stubbornly. “Any advice I can give you—” ‘Thanks, no," dissented Percy. "I want experience and I’m willing to pay for it." .. Percy Tjuie got the "experience right enough. That he paid for it, and dearly, top Jv was..kaftWn..AU-n : ver^tha town when he returned. It looked as though he had employed some secret pres* agent to spread the details of his “flurry on the market.” “Wildcat stocks,” Percy was charged with having' remarked—-

“they’re just what I want, fne name suggests fighting, and that will give some vim to the occasion. "And the gold mine in Alaska. Percy?” a friend insinuated. . “Oh, the first funds, helped the promoters along. They sloped, leaving the investors to hold thfe bag; but that's one of the risks of the game, see?” Very soon the town "saw” * that Percy had got rid of about all he had. Blanche heard of it and really sorrowed, for money was money. Still, she fathomed the reckless procedure of her lover as the only means of finally winning her. Percy met Blanche’s father on a country road one day. Percy assumed the reckless air of a man of the world arrived at the end of his rope. "Oh, you ain’t so poor!" remarked Mr. Clarke. “There's that big business block left yet.” “I’ll trade it off for a horse with a spavin, or a second-hand tin-Lizzie, but I’ll get rid of it,” vaunted Percy. And then, one morning, as he started downtown, & neighbor made a somewhat startling announcement. “I suppose you know about it,” were his words, "but your business block burned to the ground last night.” “That so?” observed Percy. "Anybody hurt?” “Not a soul.”

“Then —hurrah! ” Percy Lane packed up his belongings. He was at the home town of his fiancee by noon; he was in consultation with her father an hour later. “I’ve made it!” he announced Jubilantly to the old man. “Made what?” questioned Mr. Clarke suspiciously. “Poverty—humble life. ahead —one of your class. Liquid assets all speculated away. Last remnant of former prosperity; the business block, went up in smoke laßt night.” “Surely poor, are you?" queried Clarke. “I surely am!” asserted Percy, proudly. “Then what are you going to get married on?” demanded the practical old man. “Oho! shifting winds when the situation changes?” railed Percy. “Well, I have made arrangements for a living position down at the telegraph office.” Percy insisted upon an immediate marriage. He was through with wealth and was .ready to settle down 'to a humble, honest career. His sacrifice and pertinacity staggered the old man. Blanche seconded the proposition. It was an economical wedding. The honeymoon meant a gay day of strolling in the woods amid the beauties of nature. Then Percy went to work. Then Blanche settled down to happy, contented housekeeping in two rooms. “This is real life!” exulted Percy. “Oh, what bliss after the cankering cares of wealth!”

Three days later old Clarke burst in upon the loving pair. His face showed intense excitement, his manner was wroth. “Baffled! derided! tricked!” he spluttered, and glared at the astounded Percy. “What now, father?” intimated the latter, softly. “Bah! traitor! avaunt! base deceiver!” “Bah and avaunt?” repeated Percy, reflectively. “What’s the answer?” “This is the answer!” shouted Blanche’s father, and he ripped open a newspaper in his Band: “We are advised that Mr. Percy Lane, our young esteemed townsman, will receive sixty thousand dollars insurance on the hotel block recently destroyed by fire,” read the old man. “Aha!” cried Percy. "I never thought of that.” “Oh, Percy!” prattled Blanche, delightedly. “Now we can buy that new parlor set—”. - - - - “Rich!" howled old ’ Clarke. “A Croesus!” “Father,” said Percy, soothingly, “can I help it? I thought I was poor, you accepted me as poor. Money shan’t take me from honest work and honest love, so be sensible and join us in sunning ourselves under this unexpected shower of gold!” »

Polite Literature.

When "A History of New York,” by Washington Irving, appeared in the Christmas season of 1809, it made a tremendous sensation, according to Hamilton Wright Mabie. It was greeted with a chorus of laughter or with shouts of denunciation. To satirize the Dutch families of that time was to lay an irreverent hand on the social ark; and a decade later a distinguished citizen of Dutch descent described it as a “gross carieature, 7 * whiie Scott wrote to Henry Brevoort that he had been reading it aloud to Mrs. Scott and two ladies who were guests, and “our sides have been absolutely sore with laughter." It was not a great work, but it was the beginning of what used to be called “polite literature” in this country. From the hour of its publication American books began to be read abroad, and the literary idea and atmosphere found a home in the new world.

To the Finish.

“Going to the meeting of the Peace society tonight?” *: “I don’t know. Anything particular doing?’* “I should say so. Annual election of officers. They say -there’ll be a hot fight on.’’ „ . ——

The Alternative.

Knicker—Did he mortgage his house for an auto? Bocker—Yes; it was a case of roof it or hoof it.

THE EVEXTVH BET*TTBf,tCAX. RENSSELAER. TXH.

A Double Confession

By Frank E. Finch

(Copyright, 1916. by W. G. Chapman.) “I never imagined human nature could ever be like this,” said Rev. John Saunders to Miss Mary, the matron at the Shelter society’s headquarters. Miss Mary smiled upon him with the dignity of five and twenty years, four of which had been spent in the society’s service. “I guess it’s the same everywhere, Mr. Saunders,” she answered lightly, mentally registering her pity that a young man of her own age should know so little of life. In fact, Mr. Saunders, who had come straight to the chaplain’s post from the theological seminary, a month before, was, in comparison with herself, a child. Miss Mary had evinced a decided partiality for Rev. Mr. Saunders. He, himself, was not indifferent to her. In the secrecy of his heart he had even dared to dream things relating to a little home somewhere, when he got his coveted post in a small town, far from the noise of the lower East side. In this home, like a presiding genius, was enthroned Miss Mary Pagshaw, with a changed name. What Miss Mary thought must not be revealed. But she thought a good deal ■jot him. “If I could advise it, Mr. Saunders,” sail Miss Mary, “I wouldn’t be quite so eager to save these men’s souls. They're pretty hardened, some of them. They want example more than preaching. Now there’s 'Red’ Larrigan. Five years ago, when he began coming here, he was a hardened drunkard. Now he —he works sometimes. And he’s quit swearing. Well, Mr. Harrison never spoke one word to him about salvation. ‘Never mind his soul until its ready,’ he used to say. ‘We’ll feed his body and show him the dis-

Put Their Heads Together After the Meeting.

ference in conditions by example. And any day he may come up to the mercy seat.’ Well, Mr. Saunders, ‘Red Larrigan is a far different man from what he was, and, mark you, the day will come when you’ll finish what Mr. Harrison began.” . "She spoke with great earnestness, but the young clergyman was not convinced. He, too, had noticed a difference in Larrigan, even during that month. His heart was burning to pull this piece of human wreckage out of the mire. Then there was “Blister” Mike. Mike was a regular hobo who put into the mission during the winter and found subsistence in return for some very meager work at the woodpile- *■ " • - ' : On the next evening both these characters being in attendance, Mr. Saunders took the opportunity for a little private talk with each. The results were disconcerting. “Red” relapsed. He uttered an oath. “Five years I’ve been coming here, Mr. Saunders, and nobody never said a word about religion to me,” he complained. greatly aggrieved. “I dunno what to make of it. Seems to me It njn’t fair, on. a. guy,”—And ha ended with a threat, which he had no intention of carrying out, of transferring his patronage elsewhere. “Blister” listened with the same sense of a grievance, but Mr. Saunders got only vague promises out of him.

He did not notice how the two down-and-outs put their heads together after the meeting, while they supped their coffee and munched the slabs of bread and butter with which the mission provided them. It was some days later that Mr. Saunders was amazed, after the service, to receive a voluntary visit from “Blister.” “Yes, my dear fellow, what can I do for you?” he Inquired, laying his hand upon the hobo’s shoulder. “I want to tell your mister, your words went straight to my heart,” yt<i i ‘RUster:’’- , ‘Andit made me feet what you said —we got to square ourselves. I’m wanted in Chicago.” "Wanted, Blister —I mean Mike?” “Bigamy,” said “Blister” laconically. “You have committed bigamy?” 'And arson. That’s what they ’ -r- : ' ~r-

called it I burned down our homo to ’get rid of my old woman. She beat it. Else It would have been murder as well.” “Dear me!” muttered the young, man, staring hopelessly at the tramp. “My dear fellow, you—of course you’re going to give yourself up to the police." “Police?” shouted "Blister.” “If I wanted to do that I could have done it any time the last three years. No, what I want is to get square, to be forgiven.” For half an hour Mr. Saunders pleaded with him in vain. Blister” apparently had no intention of paying the penalty of his crimes, and at last stalked off in a huff —to admit “Red.” “Mr. Saunders,” “Red” began, “I been thinking over your words about getting square, and I want to tell you something that’s been preying on my mind for years.” “Red” could talk quite well if he tried to. “Four years ago I killed a man!” “Killed a man!” echoed the young minister, staring at this new confidant in absolute horror. "Yep, in Chicago,” said “Red.” “It was while I was engaged in a little private affair—well, nir, a burglary. He was an old guy, too, turned eighty, I believe. I smashed his head in with my jimmy. He shouldn’t have interfered, at his age, unless he’d hada thicker head. But, Mister Saunders, his laßt look has haunted me to my dying day. I want to get square." John Saunders placed both his hands on “Red’s” shoulders and looked him earnestly in the eyes. “There is only one way in which you can square and make atonement for your past,” he *said. "I knew it!” shouted “Red’*exultantIy. “Name it. I’ll do it." “I will pay your fare back to Chicago,” answered the clergyman. “Red’s” • Jaw dropped. “What in blazes would I want to go back to Chicago for?” he asked. “I had trouble enough getting away.” • To give yourself up and satisfy the law,” said Mr. Saunders. “That is the only way in which you can square yourself.” "I won’t, I tell you," shouted “Red.” “And you won’t snitch on me, neither. I come to you and told you that in confidence. I come to you to get square and you want to kill me!” And he flung himself out of the clergyman’s—presence, leaving Mr. Saunders white and shaking.

All that night he thought over his predicament. Here were two of his flock, one a murderer, the other with two atrocious crimes unpunished. Both were repentant; neither was willing to pay the price of forgiveness. What should he do? Could he betray them?” He was too sick to get up that morning. In the afternoon he rose and dressed; just as he had completed his toilet there came a tap at the door and Miss Mary stood revealed, carrying a tray on which a hot lunch was smoking. “I was afraid you were ill, Mr. Saunders, when you didn’t come down to breakfast,” she explained. “I hope it is nothing much?” In spite of the weight upon the young map’s mind he could not help thinking that he would like to catch this vision and keep her to be his for ever.

Mias Mary set down the tray and came toward him, holding out her hands impulsively. “You are in trouble,” she said. “Tell me what It Is.” He told her, sick and trembling. When he had finished he asked for her advice. But to his amazement Miss Mary was actually smiling—-smiling, while the tears stood in her eyes. “Oh Mr. Saunders!” she exclaimed. “You didn’t believe a word those two dreadful liars said? Why, I saw them plotting together last night. They are both highly respectable men, of their kind, except for drink and shiftlessness. Mr. Saunders, they wanted to give you something to occupy your mind, that’s all. They tried that trick with Mr. Harrison once. You speak to them and you’ll find out.” The young man gasped. “Are you sure, Miss Mary?” he demanded, seizing her hands again. “Dead sure,” she answered. And suddenly a silence fell between them. “Miss Mary,” said John in an altered voice, “I am a fool. I need someone to look after me. Will yon—won’t you—will you try,, de&r?” And Miss Mary promised that she would.

Say “Women," Not “Ladies."

Don’t say “ladies," please; don’t draw that distinction. Ladies belong -to-the past; the Victorian period saw tihe last of them, writes Jane Cowl in the Washington Times. Modern , womanhood is something nobler, and It has for its terhood,” the equality of women without class distinction; that is the new note in our life. Women, the world over, have come to recognize their duties toward each other. The fine lady is no longer respected for merely being a fine lady; she Is more honored for what she does for the poor, unfortunate members of her sex. The finest women in our great, glorious land have reached out and given a helping hand to unhappy girls like Mien Neal in "Common Clay.” A new spirit of sisterly love prevails among all women, which is to do great things for civilization In the future.

In the Vernacular.

DtttWA!t6 'dSg&eff' In town last night by business?" asked the visitor. “Yes,” replied Mrs. Dubwaite 1 , in a slightly sarcastic tone. “Business of trying to look pleasant when his strongest card was a two-spot.”

WHO'S WHO and WAEPETORE

SUBTLE JUSTICE M’REYNOLDS

plained Mcßeynolds; they’ll get the story If they wait long enough, don’t, you Bee?" T , . . A great light dawned in the Englishman’s eyes. “Ah, he exclaimed,; "you mean steam packet Story shipped by steam packet ’Twould be utterly absurd, wouldn’t it —ha, ha, ba.’’

EXPERIMENTS WITH WHITE RATS

t _____ V . _ ■ : Philadelphians were perturbed recently over the publication of the results of a series of experiments with white rats which are being made by Helen Dean King at the Wistar Institute of Anatomy and Biology of the University of Pennsylvania. Shorn of its sensationalism and half truths, the story of the experiments with white rats now going on at the institute is still interesting. By means of careful selection and mating of brother and sister rats from the same litters, which is "the closest form of inbreeding possible," there is being developed a race bigger, heavier and better in every way than the ordinary ’•at. '“And," says Doctor King, “theoretically what can be done with rats can be done with other animals. Give me ten years longer and 1 may have found out something." By following out her experiments it “might be pos-

sible to revolutionize the whole system of stock raising" and thereby increase the supply,of meat and reduce the cost of liying. ~ Doctor King is the only woman in America who holds a professorship in research work, the only other woman in the world who has that honor being Mme. Curie of Paris.

amusing himself this way one evening that the duke saw a street car collide with~a fat woman. Of all the men who leaped to her assistance, the duke got there first. She was quite uninjured, but the duke bundled her off to a hospital before she knew who had helped her. Half an hour later, when the duke returned to the Quirinal he sent his aid to the hospital to make certain she really was not injured.

NEW CHIEF OF YARDS AND DOCKS

Civil Engineer Frederic R. Harris of the navy, recently appointed chief of the bureau of yards and docks, navy department, to succeed - (Jivtl "Engineer Homer R. Stanford, has made an enviable record in connection with a number of important projects on which he was engaged since appointment to the navy corps of civil engineers. Among his achievements was the solving of the problem that long had attached to the dry dock at the New York navy yard, the contract for which was awarded in 1905. Five years later, after several contractors had failed on the Job, Civil Engineer Harris took charge. He employed an entirely new method of constructlo.n, he was instrumental In having the dimensions of the dock increased, and Jie successfully completed the work in 1912, In addition to many other achieve-

ment!, Civil Engineer Harris devised a new method of construction to be used In the completion of the dry dock: at Pearl .harbor, Hawall, the system irwartw ot floating - chftions or sections. He has been concerned as an assistant in the construction of the state dry dock at Boston and the project of the contemplated municipal dry dock at New York. He has been k valuable technical assistant to the department of Justice, and he has been a lecturer at the University of the City of New York, the New York college, and the Stevens Institute of Technology, m wsli M being the author of numerous technical papers.

“SUB” FOR KING VICTOR

Associate Justice Mcßeynolds of the United States Supreme court prefaces nearly everything he has to say with a story. Occasionally Mcßeynolds tells a Btory with a point so subtle that only those with a keenly pitched sense of humor can “get” him. One night at a dinner he sprang something that occasioned not the slightest ripple of laughter. He waited a reasonable length of time and then observed: “Well, at least don’t cry about it.” Nobody got that either. They didn’t understand what it was that they weren’t to cry about. So Mcßeyholds added: “It’ll come in, may be by freight." An Englishman was seated next to! Mcßeynolds, and his curiosity was! aroused. “What do you mean when you say come by freight?" he inquired. “Slowly, like a freight train,” ex-!

The duke of Genoa, who “subs” as king at the Quirinal while his nephew, Victor Emmanuel, is at the front, is fast proving himself a formidable rival of the latter for the affections of the Italian people. King Victor has ever been known as the most democratic sovereign in Europe. His “sub” has gone him one better for democracy and won for himself the sobriquet of the civilian king. The nearest the duke of Genoa comes to accepting any of the kingly, perquisites that go with his job is at four o’clock each day, when he goes for his drive in the country. Four cavalrymen surround his carriage and a corps of bicycle guards follow. The police won’t let him drive unless he accepts this escort. In the evening he makes up for it by walking about the streets of Rome in civilian clothes, accompanied only by his chief aid de camp. It was while