Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 184, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 21 August 1917 — THE JAPANESE JUG [ARTICLE]

THE JAPANESE JUG

By SYLVIA TURNER.

“But there’s no place for it,” protested Etelyn. “I am so sick and tired of these baby white elephants that people call wedding gifts I don’t know what to do, and It’s blue and white. Imagine that with Jacobean furniture and dull olive decorations. I think I’ll put it in the bathroom. It goes beautlfully with tlic white filing- - “You poor sish —” r~ “Bennie—” “I mean goldfish, darling. Don’t you know tjie value of that thing?” The recent bridegroom stood before the long, dark oak table beaming on the object that had Just emerged from many wrappings. It was nearly two feet high—a jug of blue and white porcelain. About it colled In sinuous folds a most engaging dragon. “Uncle Barnaby has collected Chinese porcelains ever since I can .remember,” Informed the young husband. “I am sure It Is. worth its weight in gold. We’ll have to make a place for It somewhere.” “The dear old thing,” Evelyn said, happily. “Let’s invite him down for a week. Perhaps he’d take a fancy to you, and do something wonderful.” The following month Uncle Barnaby arrived. He was a little, light-eyed, alert man, with not very much to say, but nothing escaped his ken. Almost the first thing he spied was the porcelain jar on Its pedestal in the sunny dining room. Evelyn had' put tall sprays of flowering almond In it and a Japanese print on the wall behind it. “Humph I” said the old gentleman. “Looks pretty good, doesn’t it?” “We prize It highly,” Ben answered reverently. And Eve added: “I’ve been up to the library and read up all about Japanese and Chinese porcelains." “You did, did you? Then you probably found out that this Is an imitation.” ——-—7 —- The silence in the dining room for a moment was unbroken. “Yes,” Uncle Barnaby went on, pleasantly, “I flatter myself it’s one of the best Imitations I have ever seen. I had a Jot of them made before I started disposing of my collection. I don’t suppose you heard, Ben, two of the companies I had stock in went up in smoke, so to speak. I’ve been riding close to the wind for a good many years. One reason why I came down here was to look around quietly for a tidy little job. of some sort.” “The worst of It Is,” Ben told his wife that night, “you can’t tell whether he’s joking or in earnest.” “Well, I’ll tell you,” Evelyn was braiding her long brown hair thoughtfully, as she sat before the three-fold mirror of the dressing table. “Let’s treat him just as if we believed everything he said. There’s one comfort, if the old thing does get broken now, !t doesn’t matter. Pm rather sorry I Invited Miss Rutherford up for tea to look at it,”——.. tt-— r

“Don’t tell her,” advised Ben. “Oh, but she'll know, she’s.a connoisseur on porcelains.” , The following Saturday Ann Rutherford arrived. When Uncle Barnaby saw her a look of utter amazement spread over his face, while she gave a little exclamation of pleasure. “Why, Mr. Wynne-Jones, to think of seeing you down here in New York at this time of the year. You’ve come for the Creighton auction haven’t you? The pieces are marvelous, I hear." After she had gone the old man beamed happily at Evelyn. “Found me out, didn’t you?” he asked. “Well, I did come down for that sale, and your jar’s a real one. . just wanted to try you out, and I tell you one thing, if you’ll Invite Ann Rutherford down often and help me make her Bennie’s aunt I’ll give you some porcelains that will make that look like a toothbrush mug. She’s the only person that I believe knows more about porcelains than I do.” Evelyn went into the campaign heart and soul. She willingly forgave the old gentleman his. kindly deception in the spur of the chase. It was such fun chaperoning this pair of lovers, she told Ben. From being a hermit. Uncle Barnaby suddenly developed into a joyous spendthrift and Beau Brummel, and' at the end of another month, when they returned from a motoring trip through the Catskills, Evelyn sank into the willow chair In her own room with a little sigh of relief. “Ben,” she said thankfully, “I’ve got them married. Really married. You’ll never know what I’ve gone through. I’ve trotted that couple to every possible Cupid’s trap I knew of. But they’re safery married now and Tm their honeymoon. Uncle Barnaby’s given me a check. Never mind for how much. It’s enough, and you’re going to stop work for a month and go camping with me up in the wilds. I need a rest cure.” (Copyright, 1917. by the McClure Newspaper Syndicate.)