The Syracuse Journal, Volume 16, Number 31, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 29 November 1923 — Page 2

The Cortlandts

“I CANT WAITI"

SYNOPSIS. —Returning to her home in s tow J , 'v‘ rl{ Center, from a vtsTk to New Yorkthe widowed mother\of t< ’ n ' s ®. _ old Ann Byrne her wedding to Hudson socially and politically nent. Her husband has told about Ann. and the new wve fears h# will be displeased. \V l«b Ann. Mrs. Cortlandt returns to New York, to the house of Hendricks Cortlandt. her h«» b »" d “ brother, with whom the latter U living. Hudson practically refuses to have anything to do with Ann, and the child ; to *!»<** ly adopted by Hendricks Cortlandt. Ann's mother and stepfather are lost at sea. Ann BUS a gap In Hendricks Cortlandts Ibnelv heart. The situation is rt-sented by Mrs. Rennes Iyer. Hendricks’ .slater, whose son. Hendricks, has been lobhfd Upon as the natural heir of the Cortlomlt wealth. The breaks out. * tentative engagement between young Renneslyer and Ann la understood, the youth enlisting. War hospital. are establlahed In New York, and Ann takes up the work of cheering the wounded back from the front. With her guardian. Ann visits Renneslyer In hls encampment on the outskirts of \\ash. Ington and *neet» noted people Ann devotes herself U> D * n * Howard, a dying soldier, who tells her she must not marry Henneslyer.

CHAPTER IX—Continued. **My dear. It is—because -you are here. a.d some day some glorified man will make you see it —but not Hendricks Renneslyer. You must promise me. not Hendricks Renneslyer.” “But. why? He is very fond of me." “Is he? How extraordinary! I am fond of you myself, my dear, although It never seems to occur to you. ... I am mad about you. ... I think about you constantly. . . . With so little time left I begrudge the few hours I sleep, and long before there is a chance of your coming I stand Maggie in the window there, to watch for you." “Ah." said Ann wtsely, "that la because you are ill, and see no one but me." Densiey Howard looked steadily at her f<«r a moment.. “No," be said “It Is because I love you. ... I love j you. .. . Strange. Isn’t It—at the end. like this? It seems a pity, doesn’t It. when we believe that being happy la what counts?" Ann started. “Is It. I wonder?" Howard lifted himself higher on his pillows. "My dear, It is! To be hap- i py—to be free —that’s life l" “Uncle says that doing your duty— , taking your plaeo In the community— j is the Important thing.” Howard laughed. "Your place In the community Is a cold comfort! Fill your life full. Ann —full to overflowing —and then at any rate you will know that you haven’t missed anything! Look at my life! I used to 1 think that I was a moral to point a tale, and yet. If I hadn’t done Just what I have, if I didn’t lie here dying because I flung away my strength.—why, then I might never have known you, ... I should have missed these exquisite moments, Ann. . . . Give me your hand to kiss, dear. I forget what I was going to say." Ann stretched out her hand unquea- j tlonlngly: His face was flushed when he let her draw her Angers away; he had a fictitious look of health and Vigor. “You are not made for duty, Ann," he said. "You are made for Joy," She gladly flung herself upon the safe ground of argument. “Hendricks expects me to be happy, of course." * “But will you be? That la the question, Will you be satisfied to let his standards govern your actions? Wouldn't you want, ever, to talk to tome one about the things Benneslyer tanT understand? Wouldn't you ever have a feeling that you were so hedged In by laws that you must break out Just for the fun of breaking? Wouldn’t you ever want to live ftxlly T** “I—don’t know." Ann murmured breathlessly. “I am afraid I should.” “Os course you can't marry him! I know you, my dear. ... I suppose tpere wilt be the devil of a row If you break with him?" “Oh. yes." Ann admitted, and laughed. “And you are dependent on all these Oortlandts. . . . Listen to me, Ann. darling—marry me, and cheat my smugfaced clergyman brother!" Ann moved' her chair hastily back, and cast a frightened glance at the door. She shook her head violently. “I ’ couldn’t do that!" she protested decidedly. “But why not? You don’t need to love me, you know. It would be very simple. ... We’ll just have a minister to here some afternoon, and then, when I am gone, you will come to for something that will enable you to snap your fingers at the Oortlandts." “But I don’t want to snap my fingers at them," she protested. "I adore my unde. . . . He Is the only person I bare ever been perfectly honest with —except you." “And do you adore me—a little?" His tone was light, bat bis eyes were suddenly tragically Intense. She looked straight at him, with a troubled gate. “I don’t know," she •aid. “hot I think I could, easily." Densiey pot out his hand and held hers for a moment, tn a close, dry clasp. She had not known that he had •o much strength left as she frit to Ida dinging fingers. "That’s all." he said, weakly, as, after a moment, his j hold relaxed, and she drew her hand away. | As the days went on, Ann became nervously anxious about her guardian’s return; rim was afraid he would not approve of her Intimacy with Denßey. find she felt that rim could not give It up. The day before hls arrival Howard detained her with a score of trivial subterfagea: be looked very ill indeed, when rim shut out the last of the sunset, and lighted

1 “Come here,” he said finally. “Come closer." Ann obeyed, and slipped her hand in hls, with an affectionate little pressure. She looked down at him miserably, realizing hls tragic state, and then she smiled, to hearten him. “That’s right," he murmured. “There's sadness enough, Ann darling. . . . Good-night." The girl hesitated. There was something In hls eyes that troubled her, and made her stoop swiftly to him, and kiss him, very shyly, on hls wasted <heek. VHe did not tryHo detain her, nor to return her caress. “Thank you.” he said. “You have given me something to think about. . . . Thank you—for everything.” She hated to leave him, lying alone there In the big room, with the flickering candles making scythellke shadows across the high walls, especially as she did not know when she might return. If her guardian should prove obdurate. Her heart was heavy as she slipped out of the silent house. Immediately after Mr. Cortlandt’s arrival, early the next morning, she told him of her escapade, and she was surprised at hls calm reception of her news. “You are not displeased with me, uncle?" “Displeased? No. ... If you gave him any happiness—poor boy. . . . Densiey Howard died .In the night, Ann." CHAPTER X Tragedy. Ann could not tell how much her guardian surmised of her feeling for Densiey, but she knew It was for her sake that he. In the absence of anyone In authority, took charge of hls neighbor’s house, with its sinister knot of crape on the silver knocker. It was he who notified the Inheriting brother In Detroit, and who made the arrangements for the funeral, although he left It to her to see that the house was ready for the services. Only once did she venture into the dear familiarity of the upper front room; the blinds had been closed, and n thin gray light pervaded the spacious white place. Densiey lay ns she had seen him last, except that the eager blue eyes, which had always followed her persistently, were closed; It was strange not to meet their shining response. . . . His hands were folded on his breast; they were pitiably thin, . . . She put out her own hand to touch them, «but shrank back from their cold response. ... He looked sad, she thought, and older. Now that he had nothing to give her he was subtly changed. He had loved her very beautifully, she knew, but It seemed a curiously long time ago. and she wondered, ns she stood, glowing, above him. If she really loved him. . . . What was love, she questioned piteously, her eyes fixed on that, graven face as on an oracle. She could not tell, nor could Densiey Howard now enlighten her. One thing, however, she did know, and that was that she must break Immediately with Hendricks Renneslyer. She went straight to her own room, after this mute farewell, and, sitting sternly upright before her little desk, rite wrote her letter to him. "And so, dear Hendricks," she finished, “I cannot marry you, because I know, now. that I do not love you, and no one could be sorrier than I am about It,” The specter of her guardian's disappointment stalked in vain before her determination; she sent her letter to the mall and would have told Mr. Cortlandt all nbout It when he came in, had he not forestalled her with astonishing news of his own. “Ann," he said. Immediately on his arrival. “I have heard from the Preai“And So, Dear Hendricks," Bho Finished. dent. He wants me to go abroad at once—to England." “Uncle." cried Ann, her personal difficulties forgotten, “may I go with you?" “I am afraid not. Ann. I considered it, but I am going with other gentlemen, and In London we are to Join Mr. John M. Forbes of Boston.” “Mr. Lincoln Is sendlng you to keep those English shipbuilders from letting the Confederate* have their Iron ships!” Ann guessed acutely. *T am so glad, uncle! I know you will never let them do It" Mr. Cortlandt smiled affectionately at her. “My dear, I am flattered at your belief in my powers—but Mr. Forbes has that matter very well lit hand; I am only to confer with him Informally about It . . . What the President really wants me to do is tp go first to England and then to France and Germany, to acqhalnt European capitalists with the actual circumstances la this country, and with the resourced of the North. He believes It is cnljr to this way that we can do-

of Washington Square

By Janet oA. Fairbank ‘ Copyright by The Bobbo-Merrill Co.

stroy their partiality for the Confederates. I don’t want to go, Ann. I should prefer to work here. There Is more bad news from the front.” Ann’s frightened eyes interrogated him. "ChancellorsvilleY* she whispered, unwilling to vplce the possibility of loss at that Important point. “Yes. . . . Another defent." “But I thought we had twice as many men there as the Confederates?" “Lee is a great general, Ann, and the sooner we Federals realize It the better. . . . They say the loss of life Is appalling—perhaps twenty-five thousand men killed, and many more wounded." Into Ann’s mind rushed a realization of Hendricks in deadly peril. After all, until they were reassured of hls safety In this present terrible battle, she would not tell her guardian what she had written ; she would spare him that much. In the morning the sun shone brilliantly; high clouds moved majestically about a faraway blue sky, and the breeze, even in the city, was laden with the odor of fruit trees In bloom. It was the sort of day. that Densiey would have loved, and Ann was sorry that he had not lived to see It. After all she thought. It would have been better for him to be buried on the kind of rainy day he hated. Her guardian went with her to the services in hls neighbor's house, bnt he could not take the time to drive out to the cemetery, so Ann went alone, and stood on the fringe of the small group of mourners. She felt that the ceremony had strangely little to do with Densiey, who had talked so much of the Joy of life, and so little of this numbing sadness. She wondered at herself for not feeling a more acute grief; she clenched her hands until the nails bit Into her soft palms, and still she could not force herself to an emotional crisis. She wished that she were the sort of girl who cried easily; It would be better than this sensation of all the world falling away from her. ... Floods of tears, she felt, would be Inadequate, and she hated herself because she stood, still and composed, with her white lips closely set. In Washington square a great confusion awaited her; everything was In a whirl of excitement; even old Joseph, who opened the door for her, was tremulous with agitation, and Mrs. Rennesl.ver’s voice, breathless and shrill, came clearly out to her from the drawing room. She was there, elegantly emotional upon a sofa, while Fanny was wiping her eyes beside her, and Hendricks’ father was striding about the room, red-faced and Incoherently profane. Mr. Cortlandt was standing, very still. In the window. There was something ominous in the air, and Ann halted abruptly. “It is Hendricks'" she cried. “He is dead!” Mr. Renneslyer reassured j her. “Dead? Nonsense!” he burs( out “Hendricks Is a hero—that’saal a regular hero! Damme, no one would have thought It when he was a boy! I have n letter from hls colonel: Hendricks distinguished himself in a night attack—conspicuous bravery, he says. They’ve made him a captain—at twen-ty-two. by G —d!” There was an Instant’s silence after this outburst ns Mr. Cortlandt came over to Ann and took her hand. She was glad that he stood so as to shield her face from the others. “You must be very proud, my dear,” he said, ceremoniously. "We must all be proud of Hendricks.” The girl sank Into a chair, dazed by the sudden reaction. Into her mind came, unbidden. Densiey Howard's casual depreciation of Hendricks Mn action; she had an instant's clear vision of him, red-faced and domineering. * . . But her guardian was right. Just now, for a while, she must be proud; she should have no place for any other emotion. • There came a great jangle at the doorbell, and every one already In an emotional state, started nervously. Joseph brought in a note, and Mr. Cortlandt ripped It open. “It Is from Horace Greeley,” he said. “It Is marked ’lmportant.’ ” He glanced at the brief todosure and turned suddenly white. “What Is It?" Ann whispered. Mr. Cortlandt did not seem to hear her; he might have been alone in the room for any attention he paid to the people gathered there. He reread the note aloud, stupidly, aa If he bad not mastered Its contents. “Dear Friend: It is my sad duty to Inform you that to the official list, sent me for publication, of men who have gloriously fallen at the battle of ChanceUoraville, the name of your nephew, Hendricks Renneslyer appears. I can say nothing to soften your grief—nothing to . . . * Hls voice trailed off Into silence as Mrs. Renneslyer Interrupted hls reading with a loud scream, and Joseph burst Into lamentations. The room was suddenly filled with a clamor of sorrow. Ann stood still, half-stunned by the shock. She looked over at her guardian, and saw hls face become old and gray under her eyes. She went over to him and put her arms around hls neck; she was trembling violently, and Mr. Cortlandt slipped hls arm about her, and drew her dose to him. “Poor child,” he whispered. “Poor child.” The girl’s convulsive clinging suddenly went slack. Behind her Mrs. Renneslyer's shrill grief afitoe, and Fanny's outburst of sobs, but/she disregarded them. Standing there with her cheek against her guardian’s, she thought with the most extraordinary clarity. The question of whether or not she should marry Hendricks, which had for so long tormented her, was, miraculously, gone, and to its place a conviction arose that here was something Important she could do for the kind old man she adored—for whom she felt that she could never do enough. For hls sake, she could pretend she had loved Hendricks aa hell

THE SYRACUSE JOURNAL

as he undoubtedly had deserved —as well as these people wanted to believe she had loved him. It seemed at the moment not too difficult to carry off. because she was, after all, as sorry to lose Hendricks as she would have been had lie been a well-loved brother. Standing with her face hidden, she could feel that her guardian, and all of them, even Mrs. Renneslyer, assumed that of all the grief-stricken persons In the room, she was the one most concerned. She accepted this position willingly, and the moment passed in which she could have confessed the real situation between herself and Hendricks. CHAPTER XI Action. The Great Eastern sailed the day after the receipt of the news of Hendricks’ death, and Ann dogged Mr. Cortlandt’s footsteps .during tills interval. She drove about the city with him while he put hls affairs In order, waiting patiently outside office buildings and banks, and he talked to her In snatches of Hendricks. Everywhere people stopped to offer him condolences, for Hendricks’ name among the dead had given the family the sympathy of the entire city. Ann hated this public display of grief, and The Great Eastern Sailed the Day After, the Receipt of the Newt of Hendricks' Death. when she said good-by to her guardian on the dock, she wished that she might sail with him, away'from it all. There were tears In her eyes when he kissed her, and hls hands on her shoulder clung regretfully. “God bless you,” he said, and he kissed her again before he hurried off, up the gangplank. Almost Immediately the ship began to move, and there was a great confusion of getting under way. Ann looked up and saw Mr. Cortlandt leaning over the rail on the upper deck, waving down to her. ... It seemed to her but a moment when the figures on board the Great Eastern became Indefinite and merged into the general bulk of the ship. . . . There was nothing for her to do but return to Washington square. There Ann found herself facing new obligations. Mrs. Cortlandt and her daughter came to live with her while her guardian was away, and Fanny talked of Hendricks by the hour. Ann had a curious sensation of being pushed Into passionate affirmation, because the other girl seemed wistfully to demand It. Mrs. Cortlandt proved herself an authority on the etiquette of grief, and Ann submitted willingly enough to her dictum that she Should submerge her vivid youth In crape and veils, for this was a part of her obligation to the Cortlandt family which she willingly assumed, but when Mrs. Cortlandt announced that she considered It improper for her to go on with her service at the hospital, as though nothing had happened, Ann rebelled. Three days after Hendricks’ death she was back at her post, but the discussion In regard to her work arose at every meal, insistent and acrimonious. It seemed to her that she could never get away from it. In the meantime, the Confederate Army of Northern Virginia marched triumphantly across Maryland, and into Pennsylvania, and the North awoke to a shock of real fright. The Army of the Potomac, although weakened by losses and dissensions, advanced plucklly to meet the Invading enemy, but New York was crowded with refugees from Baltimore and Harrisburg, who spread the fear that Washington might be taken. Continual engagements made the hospital situation acute. Emergency tents near the front were filled to capacity and Washington had become a city of the sick, but still there was not a sufficient number of beds, and to order to relieve the congestion, the wounded were sent on to New York In great numbers. Ann made a new acquaintance whs bad Just returned from field hospital work In Virginia; after her experiences there, she found New York nursing tame, and said so. The girl drank In her reminiscences eagerly, and Immediately developed an ambition to nurse at the front herself. She waa peddling lemonade through the wards late one afternoon when the doctor In charge, an old friend who had seen her through the various aliments of childhood, came up to her and took her heavy pitcher away. 1 have something to tell you," he raid. “<’ome outside for a moment" He led the way to the high steps of the building, where they might overtook the little square courtyard filled with the white tents of convalescents. 5 w onder if you can stand a shock?" he questioned. Ann turned frightened eyes upon him. “Not uncle?" she gasped, with a sinking memory of the tragedy, yearn ago, of the Arctic. Doctor Small shook ton head. This to good news," he said, “*r, at least, a chance of It Yon know that lad who

fwas brought In yesterday? The leg amputation case?" ‘The one who died In the night?" “Yes. He talked to me before he died. It seems he knew you.” “Knew me?” “Yes. He was In the Fifty-fifth. He was, he says, Captain Renneslyer’s orderly.” “I wish I had talked to hm! He might have told me something about Hendricks." “He did tell me. He says he saw him, at Culpepper.” “At—Culpeper. But that was after Chanceliorsville!” Ann, put both hands on the doctor’s arm to steady herself. “Was he—himself? Did he know what he was saying?*’ “I think so. But, of course, I can’t be sure of It.” “Could they have made such a mistake?”

‘The first casualty list of every battle Is incorrect. You know that.” “But, Doctor Small, how can we find out?”

"You can telegraph.” ’That’s useless. We’ve been telegraphing ever since the message came, trying to get particulars of Hendricks’ death.”

Then you can only wait." “Wait? Doctor Small, I can’t wait! If my guardian were at home he would find out, if he had to go down to the Army of the Potomac himself!” The doctor nodded. “I suppose so, but as he isn’t here, we must be patient.”

Ann’s thoughts were chaotic. . . . If Hendricks lived her guardian would be happy again. . . . Every one woujd be happy. . . . She remembered how old and broken her guardian had looked, there on the dock before he sailed; she had cried looking at hip. She felt she must send the, good news to him as quickly as possible. “I must write to my uncle,” she said; “I must let him know at once.” Doctor Small put a restraining hand on her arm. “I wouldn’t do that,” he said gently; “wait until you are sure. You will only make It harder for him if you encourage him to hope, and then disappoint him.” This was good advice and Ann nodded soberly as she received it She went home at once. It was, she lecided. Imperative that she find out whether Hendricks lived or not. There mast, she thought, be some one who could go to Virginia. As she hurried through the streets she tried to fix her mind on the person, but in vain. She knew enough of conditions near the front to realize that It required intense personal Interest to accomplish anything there; It was not an errand which one could Intrust to a clerk. . . . Hendricks’ father was ill —he had had a bronchial cough all the late winter, and had finally allowed Mrs. Renneslyer to take him over to Washington for a cure In that more balmy air, with, the result that he was miserably laid up there, in the hotel. ... All the young men she knew were off fighting. ... It was a pity that she was a girl. . . . She considered, for a moment, putting the matter before Mrs. Cortlandt, and urging her to take the trip, but at once she knew that lady would only echo the doctor’s sane judgment that all they could do was to wait Ann felt that It would be more than she could endure If she was forced to hear that unanswerable statement again. Her tired nerves shrank miserably from the prolonged emotional crisis into which her news would plunge the women of her family. ... If only she might go herself to look the matter up! She half paused, breathless with desire, at the Idea. . . . Once at the front, too, It would be strange If she could not make some connection with a hospital there. . . . She had no conscious plan, yet time seemed curiously precious, and when she reached Washington square she broke into a run. At the door Joseph told her that Mrs. Cortlandt and Fanny had responded to a call from the Sanitary commission ladles, and had gone there to work. “Miss Fanny, she say to tell you to come too, Miss Ann. They’s a

♦X*X<frX*X*X«X<o>X*X4X<frX«X*X*X+X*X*X*X+X*X*X«X*X*X*X*X*X*

Trains Are Run by Telephone

British Railroad Officials Said to Have { Mad* Considerable Success . of the System. \ i Many ingenious brains have busied f themselves with the problem of con- f trolling railway traffic since the (possibly mythical) porter laid foundation t of modern signaling by attaching a } cord to a “semaphore” so that he could ( operate It from a distance. But noth- , lng is more ingenious than the system j whereby a handful of men in a telephone room can direct train movements j over the whole of a main line. Control s of this type is now a daily feature of British railway traffic, although not ‘ one passenger to 10,000 has ever heard ( of the system, says the London Dally , Mail. i Its most perfected form is to be seen at the new “control office” at York, on j the London A Northwestern, where the t whole of the immensely heavy passen- ( ger and goods traffic In the congested j area from Doncaster to Newcastle is ( directed from a stogie room. ( The keystone of the fabric to a huge i diagram, running the length of the , room, which shows every station, sig- t nal box, siding and shunting yard on { the whole main line. j Ten electrically worked endless belts, half each for “up” and “down” traffic, move across the face of this dtagrwm, and these belts operate at j different speeds in accordance with i the average movements of the various i classes of train. Directly a train is under way the 1 fftgnai box concerned notifies the con- ] trol office by telephone, describing the t train and giving the exact time of departure. A card bearing the distinctive number of the train aa shown to the com- < .A ;v- - - • v • •• ' - - - • 7

supper prepared by de ladles, and she say dey need you.” The girl’s first sensation was relief at postponing the telling of her news ; It would, she thought, give her that much more time to find Rome one to. go to Virginia. . . . There was d train at nine o’clock. . . . Every one away, like this. . . . It was providential. “I can’t go, Joseph,” she amazed herself by saying. “I am leaving tonight—for Philadelphia.” “Philadelphia, Miss Ann?” “Perhaps Mr. Hendricks isn’t dead, Joseph. I have to go to find out” There was a great flurry of exclamation and excitement, while Ann ate her supper, and packed a small traveling bag. Old Joseph insisted on accompanying her to the ferry, and In the carriage he began to have a change of heart. “It don’t seem right to me. Miss Ann —you going off all by you’self, dis-a-way,” he protested from time j|p time, unayailingly, and at the last moment, when he had carried her bag on board the ferryboat, he refused to leave her. “It’s getting too dark. Miss Ann, honey, fr you to be on de water by you’self. I’ll see you on to de train.” Ann was touched in spite of herselfr and was glad to have him with her, too, as the water was very black away from the dock, and alfnost all the passengers were men, who stored at her persistently. She would not have admitted that she was nervous, but she was grateful to the old negro. He found a seat for her In the crowded car, and stood beside her, bareheaded, as long as he could, fencing off any one who might have wished to share her seat, and talking of Hendricks when he was a little boy. People looked curiously at the elegant young woman attended by her- deferential old servant, but neither Joseph nor hls mistress noticed them. “Good luck, Miss Ann,” he said, as the conductor shouted “All aboard." “De Lord be with you, an’ Mr. Hendricks.” All night long there were delays and rumors of trouble. Twice they were side-tracked for a train of cavalry—cars filled with shouting then and stamping horses —and once for a load of lowing beef cattle, en route for the Army of the Potomac. Ann could not sleep. After her fellow-passengers had settled themselves into strange grotesques of repose, while the candles in the spring sockets guttered dimly, she sat looking at the full canals of New Jersey, placid and unreal, In the dim light of a waning moon. . . . Ann knew that she had involved herself In a fine mess, running off in this way. ... If her guardian had been at home, of course It wouldn’t have been necessary. Surely, once Hendricks .was found, she could manage to get Ipto a field hospital, if only for a few days. ... He must be alive —she was sure of It. . . . How overjoyed her guardian would be —and nendricks’ mother, who could lay aside the black which mad* her look so pathetically old. . . . She wondered If Hendricks had her note yet. . . . She smiled reluctantly at the ridiculous figure she would rut, in her weeds, should he actually face her with It. She was wide awafce when the dawn came; for a long time the blank sky was faintly streaked with mauve, then all at once the whole east burst dramatically into rose color, the sun soared up* with a rush of light and movement, and the trees in the fields beside the track flung long black shadows after the escaping train. Ann watched the transformation eagerly. She was not sleepy, and she wondered If Hendricks were miraculously awakening to welcome this new day. Philadelphia was a vastly different place from the staid town she had known before, when visiting there with her guardian. People thronged the streets, as though it were a holiday, and bands playing martial music promenaded through the crowd, followed by huge canvas signs on which were printed the names of the various regiments which men might join; It was an enormous advertising campaign in the interest of enlistment. “I want to find someone. If I could only have this pass." (TO BE CONTINUED.)

pany’s “service” time-table is then Inserted In a carrier riding on one of the belts, and this carrier moves forward automatically In accordance with the speed at which the train itself Is traveling. Cards of some two dozen different types and colors are employed for this purpose, so that the control staff can differentiate at a glance between a Scotch express and a meat train, for Instance. As the card moves forward on its belt Its progress Is telephoned from successive signal boxes, and 1/ the position on the belt, which represents where the train should be at given moment, does not correspond with the reality, the control office then makes inquiry Into the cause of the delay. Furthermore —and this is the most Important feature of the control Systran—should it be discovered that an express Is running behind time because it is being held up by a slow train, the control office can telephone instructions to divert the slow train on to another line or onto a siding in order to let the express pass, the control diagram Indicating at any moment exactly what siding or duplicate lines are available for the purpose. Not Coin of the Realm. T am sending you 1,000 kisses,” a young married man wrote to his young wife, who was spending a month away from him. Two days later he received the following telegram.—“ Kisses received. Landlord refuses to accept any of them on account!” Then he forwarded a check. Any tool can Inherit money, but ft takes a wise man to hang on to it •

HELP FOR GIRLS WHO WORK Mrs. Lodic Tells How Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound Helped Her Tyrone, Pa.— **A friend told my husband how Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegeta-

ble Compound had helped feis wife, so my husband bought nra a bottle because I was so run-down, had a nervous weak- | ness, no strength in I my body and pains | in my left siae so I bad that I could I hardly do my work. Before I was married I used to work Jin the factory, and I

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had pains Just the same then as I have had since I have done my housework. I would not be without a bottle in the house now. It has stopped the pains al3 right and I have found out that it is a wonderful body builder, as it has made me well and strong. It is going to be the ‘old reliable' with me hereafter, and I am always willing to tell other women how it haa helped me. You can use this letter as you wish as I can honestly say that my words are true.”— Mrs. M. Lodic, R.F.D. No. 4, Box 40, Tyrone, Pa. Letters like this bring out the merit of Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound. They tell of the relief from such pains and ailments after taking Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound. Resourceful. A member of the staff of one of a chain of banks tells this story: “A customer at one of our branches called at the office and cashed a check on her own account. “Shortly afterward she returned anfl asked to see the manager. She ex plained that, unfortunately, she ha 4 lost the money somewhere In the town, Would the manager kindly stop pay ment on her check.” GIRLS! HAIR GROWS THICK AND BEAUTIFUL 35-Cent “Danderine” Does Wonders so» Lifeless, Neglected Hair.

A gleamy mass of luxuriant hall . full of gloss, lust ter and life shortly follows a genu- \ Ine toning up of ' neglected scalps with dependablt “Danderine.” Falling hair, itching scalp and the dandruff il

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corrected Immediately. Thin, dry, wispy or fading hair is quickly invigorated, taking on new strength, coloi and youthful beauty. “Danderine” Is delightful on the hair; a refreshing, stimulating tonic—not sticky or greasy l Any drug store.—Advertisement. Serious Shortage. “Hullo, Jack! And where hae yu been all this time?” “Why, mon, I’ve Just coom back fra London. It’s a swindling place, Is London. I bought a packet of 3,000 pins there. It cost me sixpence and then I found I was two short.” —London Tit-Bits. A Standard External Remedy *f known value —safe and effectives It’* “Allcock’s” —the original and gen nine porous plaster.—Adv, Their Secret. Family Physician—l’m afraid you’ve been eating too much cake and candy, Let me see your tongue. Little Bess (perkily)—Oh, you can look at it, but It won’t tell.

Hairs Catarrh m.M H — 9 _ is a Combined IHeaiCine Treatment,both local and internal, and has been successful in the treatment of Catarrh for ove* forty years. Sold by all druggists, F. J. CHENEY &. CO., Toledo, Ohio CORNS Stop their pain in one minute! For quick lasting relief from corns. Dr. Scholl’s Zino-pads stop the pain in one minute by removing the ouiaa •—friction and pressure. • Zino-pads are thin, safe, antiseptic, f v *«ling ] waterproof and cannot produce infection or any bad after-effects. Three sizes —for corns, callouses and bunions. Cost but a trifle. Get a box today at your druggist’s or shoe dealer’*. t)S Scholl's . Zino-pads. , Put on* on - thmpain fa gone l w.ti?Huxca,o^R^^^g