Richmond Palladium (Daily), Volume 36, Number 242, 9 July 1911 — Page 2

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xgaa- mjonf wfmnil i m 7TI 1 JPlfu , " .ic-o. w 1 1 Lira riiste i4 Little Work Baskets Made ' V' ' ' i r "r rlx0fi -Kjjjs I 1 ' 1 1 1 1 - Corn Husks. V,f - 1 A rwo Styles of Table Mats in Tasteful Designs Among the Useful Articles Which U 1 r h t ,U rf'A Earned for Aunt Hulda Eccliston $300 in Ona Year. - T 5 ' J I -I ' ' f " I 7l

Aunt Hulda Eccliston

WELL. ys writ It down Just as I tell it to you. I don't mind other folks having a chance in this world, and I guess It won't hurt me any to give 'em a hint of what can be done with corn husks. Right here In this little Connecticut village, last year. I made more than 9300 just coined the money out of mats and baskets and auto mobile hats and other things I braided and sewed from nothing but corn husks I got for the asking. I guess I'm the inventor of this Industry. They say that necessity Is the mother of invention. Well, that was my case. I was in terrible straits after John died. I was left with nothing but the farm of ten acres. I'm fifty years old, so I couldn't do very much heavy farming, and I was too far from the station to make eggs or 'garden stuff pay. I raised enough to eat myself, and I

HOW THE TIDE TURNED

IN IS." Merlin At tba Oranby scratched the word end of the manuscript, and. with a weary sigh, flung the pen upon the table. The waits, with which he we making a bid for fame and fortune, upon the composition of which he had pent a month's consistent effort, wss completed at last. The creation of hla brain, the dreamy, fascinating melody, which had gripped his soul and set every musical Instinct aflame within him, was now recorded on paper for all the world to reproduce and admire and applaud. . lie raised hla tall, slim figure erect The thick, curly hair framed a pale, thin, aacetlo face. Fever was burning in the brilliant eyea. 'Jove. how weak I am!" he muttered, grlppiug the table to prevent himself falling. "Never mind. It's been worth the effort It must win. The two hundred ' pounds and the fame shall be mine. London and all Britain shall ring with my name! Lucy, to whom I have dedicated my waits, will hear and be glad. Her father will no longer aneer at me as a beggarly composer I He'll give her to He seised the manuscript, and 'fondled and caressed It Tottering footsteps led htm to the small piano. Heavily he sank on the seat, and his .white, tapering fingers wandered over the keys. ' Though he had the manuscript be.fere him. he didn't look at It. The darling of his brain was indelibly 'fixed. His slim body swayed lightly with the rhapsody of the melodious cadences his concentration, his soul, was In the execution of the waits. A young man In evening dress, whose handsome face was flushed, and whose crush hat rested tlpslly on his crown, camo te the door of the room end paused, with a hand on the lintel, listening In astonishment. The music died away Ir. a dreamy diminuendo till tt ceased altoxether. for a minute after his hands were till. Merlin Granby sat on the stool. Suddenly he sprang to his feet, whipped up the .manuscript and pressed It to his lips. . "Ay, finished! Another day and the competition would have closed. Anther day and my chance of wooing fame would have gone perhaps forever. It must go in the post It must Hallo. Armand. my boy, you quite startled me! Come In. Come in. Did you hear It old fellow T Think I'll WlnT Sit down. I'm glad to see you, but I'm done up played out" Armand Marriott gripped the composer's elonder nnjrers, and. without removing his hat sank Into tho Chesterfield beneath the hearth. "It's nno, old chap, really magmaCent" he replied. "No one'U stand a cbsnce in the competition against you. I promised the cM guv'nor I'd enter. I've got the MS, ready for postInjr In my room; but jow now I must throw It on the flam coals. Lucy? X haven't seen my tlster for weeks. We don't hit welt yoa know. She Never mind that new. You love her. and, of course, won't listen ta a word against her." "Love her 7" said Merlin Granby. as If to himself, "Ay, I love her. Even before nousla X love ber. It's to wia

had a roof over my head, but taxes and the expense of my clothes had to be got somewhere. I got awful blue and discouraged and UBed to cry some, and then one day a lady from the city came along. She was in an automobile, and she stopped to ask the way and get a drink of water from my well, that has a tall sweep and which always attracts city folks' notice. Well, she was a lovely lady. She looked at me- closely and saw that I bad been crying, and she sat dovn and pays to me; "Now, what's 'the matter?" she says, with her voice soft with sympathy. It made me cry more, and then she says, after I had told her all my troubles: "Now, I am not going to give you any money. I know you are too proud to take it; but I am going to help you to help yourself. I'm going to eend you a book, and I want

her I worked so hard for months and months. It's to gain her pure soul for my very own that I've burned the candle of life almost to the end. Look at me a limp, nerve-shattered wreck! Compare me with you, full of life and vitality, and yet we were born the same year. Love her? Ay, don t say a word against her, or our friendship, Armand, will cease from that moment." The younjr man stretched out his legs and lit a cigar. "Look here, old chap. I haven't come here to provoke a quarrel," he said. I've had a bit of ill-luck lately. You've helped me over the stile before, and I thought . Fact Is, I've got In a deuce of a mass. Lend me nifty pounds until I get the old boy's next allowance. Vou shall have it then on my honor you phalli There'll be no default this time." Granby raised his back from the armchair. "Fifty pounds! It's a Jot of money for a poor man like me. If I couli get somo of my works accepted and paid for, I might risk It, but I've failed so far to strike a seam of luck. Why don't you " "Kisk UT What do you mean, man?" cried the j-ounf man. angrily. "Have I not promised on my honor to repay youT Do you disbelieve me?" "I'm sorry. Armand," said Granby, with a shrug of his shoulders, "but I've little more than the money you ask for. 1 helped you before for Lucy's sake, and you promised faithfully to repay me, but 1 am etill waiting. Why don't you ask Sir John, your father, for the money?" Armand Marriott sprang to his feet. "The guv'nor, like you, like Lucy, thinks me a rogue and a vagabond," was the snarling reply. "He won't give me a penny beyond my allowance you know that very well. I tell you I'm In a desperate fix. I must have fifty pounds from somewhere. For the last time, wlli you let me have the money?" The composer sat for a few moments in thouht. then he slowly shook his head. "Very well, then." shouted the young man "Xou'll let me be disgraced, turned ou rf mr club for a paltry fifty pounds! You'll regret this one day. Merlin Granby." A second later and he had slammed the door behind him. For a few moments the composer sat deep In thought. Suddenly he rose to his feet, stumbled across to the door, and called over the banisters: "Armand, Armand. come back. You shall have the money for Lucy's sake. Come back. Armand!'" But his voice went re-echoing down tho stairs of the flat, and no reply was returned to him. Armand had left the bulldlns. "I I'll go to Ms flat." said Merl'n Granby, polng back to the room. "I'll give him a check for the money and trust to Providence to help me out" He flung himself into a chair, hastily filled In a check, placed it In his pocketbook. carelessly threw aside his overcoat on, he peered round the room, checkbook, and then, with his hat and "Ab. my waltz!" he cried tremulously, "Shall I post it now. or or shall I jro over It once asraln?" The postal tube, already addressed, lay hy the side of the precious manuscript Mechanically he picked It up and thrust the rolled sheets of penned notation within lb For a few moments

you should read It, and I think you will know how to work out your own salvation then." So she went away, and in a day or two the book came from New York. It was all about learning to look within ourselves for the means of making ourselves success ful or great First off I thought it didn't mean anything at all. I couldn't make head nor tail of it, and 1 says: "I guess this is too deep for Aunt ' Huldy;" but I took it up again and read it through, and I began to get an idea what was meant. Then I went right back over it all again, kind of studying it, and by the time I had read it four times it all seemed plain as day, and I felt all buoyed up and sure that I could do anything. It said in the book one mustn't run away from things, but Just face It out; we are where we are meant to be till we earn the right to be somewhere else, and that there was always the means right at hand to help the first step.

his Angers toyed with the tube. Finally he stumbled across to a cabinet, and threw the roll within a drawer. "I may have omitted something," he muttered, as he made for the door. "It will be as well to go over it once more." The clock was striking nine as he stepped out Into the street, and the Icy blast of the northeast wind, catching his breath, sent Ijlm racking with a cough to grope against the railinsrs for support From the other side of the roadway a figure watched him stumble along the pavement It was Armand Marriott. Before the composer had reached the end of the street the young man dashed out of the doors of Granby'a flat buttoning his coat over something he had hidden In an Inner pocket "The fool!" he muttered. "I told him he'd regret it. If the chance come off. It'll put me right with the guv'nor, and he he can go to the devil." He called to a passing taxlcab and was quickly whirled In the direction of Piccadilly. Merlin Granby groped his way up tha stairs and passed Into his room, sinking, dressed as she was In outdoor clothes. InTO an easy chair. He was exhausted. Ills vital energy was spent almost to a thread. His Journey had been In vain. Armand Marriott had gone from his old rooms and his whereabouts wera unknown. Inquiry at the club had proved unavailing. The check for 50 was still In the composer's pocket. The warmth of the room revived him somewhat, but a despairing, pessimistic mood the inheritance of genius hid settled upon him. He flung his hat and coat upon a chair, and, for the first' time, noticed that three parcels arrived by the last post, were awaiting him upon the table. He stood erect, gasping end trembling. No second glance was needed to assure him ot their contents. A symphony, a song, and a gavotte the work of hla brain had come back from the publishers to whom he had sent them. "They were greatly obliged for the opportunity of considering his composition, but regretted they were unable to make use of It" The mockery and the misery of !t all! He stared at the packets, swaying backwards and forwards. It was a bitter blow at such a time. He had been ia such confident mood all day. "A knife in the heart," he groaned, his nostrils twitching, and his eyes shining like balls of fire. "It's the last blow! I'll give in! Xo one wants me. Lucy my Lucy oh, it's hard to give you up! But it must be. It must be for her own sake." He groped his way to the cabinet There in the drawer, where he had laid it was the postal tube with the sheets of his waits within it With fingers that trembled so violently that he could scarce lift the roll he plucked It from the drawer, and. with a jerk of his elbow, sent it dashing amidst the names in the grate. "Burn! Burn!" he screamed. "You've brought me misery and pain. Instead of pleasure Burn! It is all you're fit for!" . He stood and watched the flames leap round the roll, saw the stiff outer covering, and then the precious sheets within, become ablaze and turn quickly into ashes. A hysterical laugh burst from his lips. His ruffled hair, sbintns eyea

Aunt Hulda Eccliston Braiding Corn Husks for She Is Wearing a Corn Husk Hat Made by Herself.

. Just get down and thought what is there right here that I can use to make money. I was sitting on the door stone. Just about sunset, and there was an old corn husk mat on the stone that John braided out of husks one Winter when he had the rheumatism and couldn't get out. and gray face gave him the appearance of a madman. Quickly he turned to the table. His fingers clutched at the unopened packets of manuscript, but before he could hurl them into tho flames his arm was gripped from behind. "Ey heaven, it's Lucy!" he gasped. A girl with a face carved like a cameo, with rosebud lips, and eyes of blue, was standing before him with a smile, which quickly faded away as she looked tato the pale, distraught features. "What are you doing, dear?" she murmured. "You look weak and 111! You you were not burning your manuscripts?" she added, with a little cry of horror, looking from the parcels he had let fall to his feet to the paper ashes upon the coals. "I I've burned one," he answered, looking away. "I I was disappointed in it I did not expect you to-night at this time. Why have you come, Lucy?" Without answering him, she led him to tho arm chair and made him sit down. In the cupboard she found a bottle of spirits, and compelled him to drink from the tumbler the mixture she gave hiru. And he obeyed her like a child. "There, you'll be better soon," she said soothingly. "I knew I should find you like this. . I knew you'd work upon that prize waltz until you were positively ilL Don't get up. You must have the beef tea I shall get ready lor you, and go straight to bed." "Why have you come here, Lucy?" he asked. "Father and I have Just come back from Paris, dear," she said, kneeling at his feet and taking his hand. "lie has gone to find Armand. who, he has heard, has been getting into some scrape or other. And I came to see you and to hear your composition for the waltz competition." His frame shook; he stared with glazed eyes at the ashes upon the coals. "You you've burned it!" she gasped, following his gaze. "Oh. how could you do it. Merlin, after all the weeks of work ?" , "I was mad a fit seized me." he said limply, his head falling on his breast "I was so utterly misfrable. These" he touched the other packets with his foot "would have followed it If you had not stopped me. I'm sorry now." She was aghast but her woman's vrit told her It was not the time for reproof. "You have a duplicate?" she asked. "Or prhps there ia time to write it afresh?" "No. no." he moa-ned. "It must be in by first post to-morrow. I could not rewrite It if I worked all through the night And look at my hand! I could not hold a pen!" "Well, never mind, dear," she murmured tenderly. "You must write !t out arain and submit it to the publishers. Promise me you will not burn your manuscript again. When you become famous as I know you will you wiZl be glad you followed my advice." "When I become famous!" he said, bitterly. "That time will cever come. Fame's turned her back on me. Yet I was a fool, a madman to destroy the manuscript When you are near me. Lucy, when I look into your tender eyes I feel brave and strong. Without yoa I am limp, so often a prey to fits of despair. Ah. yes. I'll promise, darling." He picked up the bundles of mannecript and placed them Jn a drawer. Under her bright chatter he became calm

The next day, after tending to my chores and doing a little baking, I went to the neighbors and got all the corn husks they had, both of field corn and sweet' corn, and then I set to work again, and I mad'j all sorts of things all kinds of baskets, hats, cornucopias, square boxes with covers to them. and even cheerful. She told him of their experiences in Paris, of her belief in his powers and soon set a cup of hot bsef tea before him. "It is getting late," he said at last "It is selfish of me to keep you here. Your father" His voice broke off. Footsteps were heard hurriedly ascending the stairs. Armand Marriott burst into the room with a white, drawn face. "Lucy, for heaven's sake, come along at once to the hotel'." he gasped. "Father has met with an accident! It may prove fatal! Quick I have a cab waiting at the door!" The color left the girl's cheek and she trembled violently. Recovering in ah instant she pressed her lips on the composer's forehead and followed her brother from the room. "Remember your promise. Merlin," she murmured at the door, and then he was alone. Sir John Marriott lay dying. With the patient, besides the doctor and the nurse, was Sir John's solicitor, hastily summoned. "I want to add a codicil to my will. Somers," murmured the dying man. "I want to disinherit Armand. my only son. He is a scapegrace, an extravagant rascal, who has brought only shame and sorrow to my name. He shell not spend my fortune in gambling hells. Save for two hundred pounds a year, I bequeath everything I have to my dear, devoted daughter. Lucy." The silence of the room was disturbed only by the scratching of the solicitor's pen. The necessary alteration were made at last. The table was drawn to the patient's bedside, the pen was placed in Sir John's hand, when the door opened and Armand Marriott appeared wlih a letter in his hand. "Can I speak with you, father Just for one moment?" he said with flushed cheeks and shining ej'es. I would not disturb you only only that most important news has come for me." His eyes wandered from the lawyer's face to the bluo document upon the table, and he drew In his breath sharply. "It is a most inconvenient time," re turned the baronet testily. "But you may as well hear, Armand. from my own lips what I propose to do. You have disregarded my wishes repeatedly; you have scorned my advice: you have dragged mv came in the nud time and asain. " I have disinherited you. Your allowance of two hundred a year will be maintained. That is all you'll have cf mine to squander." The young man reeled and caugM at the bed rails. "But father, father, you cannot mean it!" he pleaded. "You have always thought me a lazy vagabond; but but read that It has Just reached me. Read it to father. Mr. Somers." With tremblirg fingers h thrust the typewritten heet in the lawyer's hands. "IearS:r." read the solicitor. ""I have the p'easnre to inform you that your waits dedicated to Miss Lucy Marriott has been adjudged the best of those submitted in the competition. The first prlie of two hundred p-nmda w!U be awarded "to yra at the concert that has been arranged to take pi- w"n a week at the Royal Hall in London, when your composition will be p'avei by the famous-Kay al Orchestra. Yours faithf any.

One of Aunt HuUa's Cornucopias of Br.-.ided Corn Husks

things for holding a ball of twine. Jardiniere covers, table mats. Dig and little floor rugs, round ana 6quare and oblong; automobile bonnets ani caps, waste baskets, and so forth. I was always thinking of some new thing to make, and I did enjoy making them, for it wasn't

By Austin Dale

" 'RICHARD MANSE, Secretary.' " A silence followed the reading of the letter. "Impossible there must be some mistake!" gasped Sir John. "This is another of your rascally tricks, sir. Give me the letter. Somers!" Armand winced, but he did not reply. He watched the old baronet take the missive and examine it carefully. Sir John looked up at last and held out his hand. A tear fell down the thin, haggard face. "Perhaps I've wronged you, Armand. he murmured, brokenly. 1 may be prejudiced against you because of your past misdeeds. Perhaps there is some gooa in you, after ail. I congratulate you, my boy on your success. Somers, tear up that codicil. I'll let the old will stand. I had never dreamed It possible of you. Armand, Forgive my harsh words, my '"lie fell back on the pillows, his breath coming in fitful gasps. The doctor hurried to the bedside. Fetch Miss Lucy." he murmured to the nurse. "The end has almost come." Within a quarter of an hour the spirit had fled from the frail body. And Armand Marriott the new baronet and a wealthy man now, was shaking wita the violent sobs of remorse and shame which racked hi sframe. Merlin Granby sat ia his room in deep depression. . It was the morning of the great concert in the Royal Hall, when the prize waltz was to be performed publicly for the first time. Sir Armand Marriott's name, as its composer, had appeared In all the newspapers, and the news had caused considerable stir amongst ail who knew him. Sir John had been laid to rest In ths little churchyard, and though Merlin Granby had seen the new baronet and the girl he loved on that mournful day. he had come back to London to mope In his rooms in the depths of despair. The news of Armaud's success had stunned him. 'II I had only sent In my effort instead of consigning It to the flames," he muttered, as he wearily paced the floor. "Would it have won? Ah, no! Fate Is against me. The battle is too strong for me. I must give in. I must po away out of my Lucy's life. What use is life without her or the art I love:" He paused to peer through the window into the fog-laden street A cab had pulled up at the door. Footstep ascended the stairs. The door was thrown open. He turned to see Sir Armand and his sister on the threshold "Come in. come in!" he cried, after a momentary start of surprise at seeing the mourning-clad figures. "I'm pleased to see you. but how ill both ot you look? What what is the matter?" "You explain. Armand," said the girt and wandered to the window. Merlin Granby stared from one to the other in undisguised astonishment "Look here, old chap." stammered the young baronet. "I've acted like a cur and a roeue. and I've come to ask for your forgiveness. I've been a fool, but mv eyes are cpened at last. I realize the depth to which I've fallen- You'll not b harsh. Merlin? You'll forget the past?" "X I don't understand," murmured

hard work Jest setting and plaiting the clean husks and sewing: them with strong white linen thread into different shapes and forms. Then I colored some of the husks after they were braided. I used Just common dye powders, and they looked lovely. I dyed them after they were braided. Thea I set to thinking how to sell 'ess after I'd got a lot made. Well, I got another inspiration. I saw how I could sell all the corn husk things I could make. It worked even better than X thought It would Goodnessl My bread's burning. -Next time you call I'U tell all about the sellin' part.

the composer, looking from th ooa fused, shamefaced man to the aUent figure by the window. "You've don me no harm. You repaid tha loans you bad of me a week ago." "The waltz the waits! You know what t mean?" said Sir Armand hoarsely. "You remember the night X came here to borrow fifty pounds?" "The waltz? Ah. yes! X have heart of your success, Armand. X congratulate you. "But but" expostulated tho astonished composer, "the manuscript was ia the tube. I saw the sheets. I" "Taey were blank sheets I took from my pocket" interrupted the other. I stole your composition, and seat it la as my own work. I say! Do you understand now? Do you realise my villainy? It ia you who have won the prize. The fame is yours. I I am an Impostor, a roguel Speak oh. Heaven, speak, if It's only to turn me In disgust and horror from the room!" The young baronet sank into a chair and covered his face with- his handav Merlin Granby stared at htm, only dimly realising what the disclosure meaaC to him. "Armand has endeavored to repair his sin," said a soft vote behind hla, -and bis arm was gently touched by the girl he loved. "He has seen the competition secretary and confessed all At the concert to-night they will announce your name. Merlin, as the winner of the prize and award you tho two hundred pounds. Armand Is willing to make you any recompense you may consider Just You'll forgive us. Merlin?" "Forgive you, my darling;!" cried the composer, hugging the girl to his breast In a paroxysm of Joy. "There Is nothing to forgive. I have already forgotten. Armand. Armand, look up. and shake hands with me. Let us be friends again. The tide has turned at last." "It was Lucy who discovered the Imposture," said tha young baronet gripping the extended hand. "They sent me a copy of the waltz and sh recognized your genius in It at once. You're a good chap. Merlin, and I'm a I'm going to alter. I shall not forget your mercy to-day. When you two marry I'll do something to mako you happy." c Eefore long Merlin Granby'a waltz was being hummed and played and danced to all over the kingdom. The publisher who obtained a composition from the new genius's pen considered himself a fortunate man. Years of disappointment and ceaseless effort bad been rewarded at last Fame and fortune had turned smiling; face upoe him In his blackest bour. "I knew this day would come. dar said Lucy Granby, smiling proudly upon her husband one glorious summer evening. "1 knew that when once your work was given a hearing- the " world would recognize your genius. And you've not only made a fortune for us. you've saved Armand from his greatest enemy himself." -It aw you, my Lucy, yoa alone. murmured Merlin Granby tend.riw

-You were my fountain of hope and strength."

iTho End.)

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