Walkerton Independent, Volume 47, Number 44, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 30 March 1922 — Page 2

WALKERTON INDEPENDENT W Published Every Thuraday by THE INDEPENDENT-NEWS 000. BTI of B . WALKERTON INDEPENDENT NORTH LIBERTY x,rm e Olem: DeCoudres, Businesa Manager W. A. Endley, Bditor SUBSCRIPTION RATES One Year .......”...........0-o-o-ottco"u ~ m 2800892900590 NRR SRR RSN ’ M “m SR EENINEeIRIRINsRsssRTRIRRES . s, VANCE m%&:&- Sk Walisten. ind., as second-class matter. ﬂ ‘.“““‘\“‘\““““““‘ ’ ' tINDIANA : ¢ 5 ’ ' / : STATE NEWS ' ‘\“““\“\\““‘\\\\\“' Terre Haute.—Officials of District 11, United Mine Workers of America, which includes most of Indiana’'s coal fields, sent to the various locals of the district coples of a statement warning the members against practices calculated to create dissension in theg ranks and retard the work of organization. Particular stress is placed on the practice of union miners taking employment in small mines not under union contract and against giving ald to the men in rebellion against the union in the Kansas district. Present wage agreements in the central competitive field, which includes Indiana, Ohio, Illinois and West Virginia, expire March 31 and the present indications are that there will be a strike as a result of fallure to negotiate new contracts with the operators. Terre Haute.—Rose Polytechnic institute here will receive SIOO,OOO for & bullding as a memorial to Demas Deming and Sarah . Deining, parents of Demas Deming, through the will of the latter, which has been filed in the Probate court. The love Mrl Deming had for little children was shown in a bequest of $20,000 to the Terre Haute Day Nursery. The Terre Haute Social Settlement will receive SIO,OOO and the Society for Organizing Charity will receive $5,000. Mr. Deming died a few days ago following several weeks of illness. He was president of the First National bank of Terre Haute. Shelbyville.—Members of the Washington Township (Shelby county) Farmers’ association, went on record as being opposed to building any new roads or new school buildings In the township during the next three years. The members of the association asserted in a resolution that with valuations on property dropping, and an increase in the tax rate in sight, they favor as much retrenchment as possible during the next few years, in an effort to keep down the expense, Copies of the resolution were sent to the township trustee and other township officials. Indianapolis.—The collections of the state automobile license department for this year amounted the first half of the month to $411,000 more than the collections for the same period of 1921, the superintendent of the department sald. This is the first year the automobile police, created under the 1921 law, have been patrolling highways. This is the first year also that licenses were procurable from substations over the state. The superintendent said collections to date amount to more than $2,089,000. Indianapolis.—The state highway commission advertised for bids to be opened in the statehouse, April 4, on the construction of approximately 40 miles of hard-surfaced highways. This is a part of the commission’s 1022 building program which totals 113.7 miles. The contracts for the construction of 44 miles of the program, in the National road from Richmond to Terre Haute, were awarded last week. Indianapolis—Announcement that the locomotive department of the Beech Grove shops of the Big Four Railway company, which has been closed since February 15, would resume operations under the contract plan was made at Indianapolis by the superintendent of motive power for the railway company, and Edward S. Goodrich, president of the Railway Service and Supply corporation, which has the contract, Indianapolis.—The state law regulating the labeling of mattresses, under which indictments against 21 Indianapolis furniture companies and individuais were returned last fall for failure to label mattresses, was upheld by Judge James A. Collins, in the ecriminal court, in overruling meotions presented by attorneys for the furniture companies and the individuals to quash the indictments. Hammond.—Compliance with the principal condition contingent upon the location of the $20,000,000 Jones & Laughlin steel plant at Hammond, was completed when the United States house of representatives passed Senator New's bill providing for the improvement of the west branch of the Indiana Harbor ship canal. The bill already passed by the senate now goes to the President for his signature. Indianapolis,.—The Indiana Society of Sanitary Engineers, at the close of its three-day convention in Indianapolis, elected J. A. Gallivan, of Muncle, president; Henry C. Hueck, of Gary, vice-president, and Emil | Hartwig, of Evansville, secretarytreasurer. The delegates adopted resolutions directing the new officers to reorganize the chapter within 60 days. Oakland City.—The second great coal stripping mine will be opened in the field east of here during the com- | ing summer, it was announced by a representative of Eastern interests, who have obtained 8,000 acres of strip coal. Lafayette.—Farmers in many sec- | tions of Indiana whose crops suffered I from the chinch bugs last summer are burning the fence rows, ditch banks and other hiding places for the bugs now, in order to kill the pest or drive them out so that the spring rains will complete the destiruction. Petershurg.—The making of maple sirup continues in Pike county. This year's run has been the largest in = the last ten years: Only a few camps . ppened this spring, but the produc- £ Hlon was 300 per cent greater than _ e

Storm Country Polly by Grace Miller White

e et MARCUS MACKENZIE. SYNOPSlS.—Occupying a dilapidated shack in the Silent City, a squatter settlement near Ithaca, New York, Polly Hopkins lives with her father, small Jerry, and an old woman, Granny Hope. On an adJacent farm, Oscar Bennett, prosperous farmer, is a neighbor. He is secretly married to Evelyn Robertson, supposedly wealthy girl of their neighborhood. Polly alone knows their secret. Oscar is a thoroughgoing villain. He is tired of his wife and has his eye on the pretty squatter girl, with her radiant eyes and her tumbling curls. And of course Polly would fight like a wildcat if Oscar so much as laid hands on her. CHAPTER I|—Continued. R One day Polly had found her sick in bed, gnd, as she had led the forlorn billy goat home, so did she bring Granay Hope, never realizing that in the ¢ottering old figure she was entertaining an angel unawares. All she knew was that Granny’s toothless smile, her cheerful words of love and kindliness, made the sun shine brighter and the meager food more filling. During the winter, Mrs. Hope had encouraged the girl to read. At first that had been difficult, for the shanty contained nothing but the tattered Bible the old woman had brought with her. Over and over Polly had read the miseries of Job the patient, the long lamentations of Jeremiah, who always put her in mind of Daddy Hopkins; and she also knew by heart the story of the crucifixion of Jesus, who; so the Bible said, was the best man that had ever walked the globe. So had those winter days of close companionship with the woman who had lived long and suffered much, and who now was almost ready to on to larger experiences, brought out in Polly Hopkins a greater capacity for loving. The squatters called her “Pollyop, the love-lass,” and sometimes, “Polly of the sun.” Granny Hope explained this by saying: “They all love you, Poll, an’ it’s out of your own heart they get the feelin’ of joy when they see ye.” From behind the wgod-box near where the goat stood, Pollyop took up an ax. Tenderly she bent and placed a kiss upon the goat's horny head. Then she touched Granny Hope. The woman lifted her lids and smiled at the girl. “What's the matter, love-lass?” she murmured. “I'm goin’ out, Granny,” replied Polly. *“lf Daddy comes, tell 'im I'll be back In a while.” Into the rain she went, her bare feet carrying her swiftly over the ragged rocks, her curls gathered under her chin like a warm glistening hood. When later she appeared in front of the shanty, her gingham skirt was filled with rusty pans and old pieces of tin. She placed them on the doorstep, and looking hesitatingly at the willow tree, went back into the house. From a peg Polly took a pair of her father’s trousers and clambered into them, tucking her skirts out of sight and rolling up the trouser legs, for Daddy Hopkins was much taller than his daughter. Into one of the big pockets Polly thrust a handful of nails. It was a grotesque looking girl who a few minutes later was flattening out the pans and the old bits of tin upon the stone. ‘ When that was finished, she gathered them up and, ax in hand, climbed i into the willow tree and onto the roof. Daddy Hopkins would be glad‘ when he came home and found the shack dry and warm. Then she began her task of hammering the pieces of tin over the holes through which the water dripped. Once in a while she stopped working, and, flat on her stom- { ach, sought for smaller cracks. | Just as she had mended the last‘ hole, she heard the sound of horses’ hoofs and men’s voices. With the fear of the persecuted, she crouched close to the roof, and like some frightened animal, crawled to the edge of It. Squatters did not speak like that, neither did they ride horseback. There in the lane, astride two magnificent animals, were two men. One she recognized instantly. Polly had every reason to know the tall man whose dark, handsome face had cast deep shadows over the Silent City. Marcus MacKenzie had been for years the Nemesis that hung over the Cayuga lake squatters. Even during his absence on war work abroad, his long arm had often reached back to the Silent City to pick away some husband and close the prison gates behind him. Pollyop had a passionate desire to throw the ax at him. She knew there was not a heart in all the Silent City that did not beat with dread at the very mention of his name, Then she caught a glimpse of the other man’s face and forgot her terror of Marcus MacKenzie. In Ithaca and about it she had seen many soldiers but never anyone like MacKenzie's companion. He was dressed in an officer’'s uniform, and, as his horse whirled him into better view, the frown faded from Pollyop’s brow as she gazed wonderingly upon him. She marked his flashing glances that swept the Silent City. She noted with a strange little thrill the beauty of the clearcut features, the full, Kkindly mouth and the smooth, tanned skin. Marcus MacKenzie was speaking rapidly, and though Polly could not hear what he said, she knew he was talking of the squatters. Then words that made her tingle with joy came distinctly to her ears. “But you can’t turn a lot of folks out of their homes, Marc,” rang forth

a deep, rich voice. “Where under the heaven would they go if you did?” “Anywhere they d—n please,” snarled MacKenzle contemptuously. “If they were all dead, they’d be better off, and Ithaca top.” Polly’s hand tightened on the axhandle. To let it fly straight into the face of the haughty Ithacan would have been satisfaction indeed! “Have you tried to buy them out?” asked the other, “No, and I don’t intend to,” was the sharp retort. “They’ll go because I'll make them go, that's all. I've been too busy for the last two years to make much of a dent among them, but, now I'm home for good, I mean to clear them off.” An outward gesture of the officer’s hand tol¢ Pally he was not In sympathy with MacKenzie's threat. “You can’'t judge of the situation, Bob,” Marcus went on, “because you've been gone for years. Evelyn can tell you what they are, though.” The speaker wheeled his horse and pointed his riding whip straight at the Hopkins’ shanty; and Polly's curly head drew quickly back. “One of the worst of them lives there!” she heard plainly. “He's sort of a mayor of the settlement. Jeremiah Hopkins! And such a tribe as that hut holds can’'t be found any'where else In this county. A worth‘less, tangle-haired girl and a boy half In the grave, and I heard only this ‘morning they're harboring a hag by ‘the name of Hope. They live like plgs, too.” “The poor things haven't much of a chance to live otherwise, have they, Marc?” The question evidently re;mxlrvd no answer, “Well, what do you h Y AN 431_{ !‘.: /‘4“1;4 '!“,"15;‘ ‘,.,d/ T AN, | T /;-l’mﬂﬁ",'“;’. ! NN [ “, I . ‘ i'l \\Q" it ARG |y s 1.? i j» y \ ';iv“i[ri': Y I MUERAE )Y t-} R v'; f».!’ Iy ; s“:\ ”ll‘g‘ et e b i . Ty \,".’4;' AL . LN "I::!ns .-‘}/ 'L ’ﬂ 1,, i j‘l':‘ "" NV :s‘ { G R\ Sl &&=\ / ’»/‘ "/? I/T%!(‘ %'/“\{\\ - \ /tl G 7\“ 7 A ’({’/ At vl 4 s T N Z /pW/ // =2/ / : It Was a Grotesque Looking Girl Who a Few Minutes. Later Was Flattening Out the Pans and the Old Bits of Tin Upon the Stone. think of that?” he went on. Then he read aloud: “‘lf your heart is loving and kind, come right in. If it ain't, scoot off.” Why, that's beautiful !” The warm, velvety brown the rich man's threats had made a hard glare was brought back to Polly’'s eyes by these words. She could have hugged the speaker as hard as she sometimes did Daddy Hopkins! “Rubbish !” sneered MacKenzie. “Perfect rot! Your aunt was saying this morning that the Hopkins girl is as odd as she is filthy. The very idea of having a thing like that hung up!” Polly saw the younger man reach out and touch the speaker with a gloved hand. “Love isn’'t rubbish, wherever you find it, old chap!” he exclaimed. *“lt gives even a squatter shack a glimpse of heaven. You ought to help these people, Mare. Give them a chance: make something of them, and the_\“ won’'t bother you.” ; Burning tears filled Polly’s eyes. To | hear him speak In sympathy with her fishermen friends touched her deeply. And he had spoken of love in the same way Granny Hope did, too. Pollyop had never Imagined Old Mare's kind ever thought of the meek—the lowly—and the hungry. Far above the world, up in the skies beyond the clouds

ERROR IS COMMITTED BY MANY

Grave Mistake to Leave Business Position in a G,eneral Cloud of Unpleasant Feeling. The man or woman of small ambition and smaller achievement feels that it is his privilege and pleasure always to leave a position he is *quitting” in a cloud of unpleasant feeling. So long as he remains in his position he puts up with unpleasantness, stifles his dislikes for the men over him and does his best to grin and bear things. When he realizes that he can take his destiny in his own hands, and ask to have his name stricken off the pay roll, he takes intense satisfaction in airing his prejudices and showing every one in the place just how he feels about things. He undoes in a day all that he has gained in the months or years that he has worked there. The man or woman with ambition knows that the world of business is a small place. Merely from a selfish point of view it is essential to maintain pleasant reiations even with those

where the blue was, right alongside the crucified Savior, Polly Hopkins placed this new friend of the Silent City. Her thoughts were interrupted by MacKenzie speaking. “They're pigs, Bob, I tell you,” he repeated roughly, “and what I brought you down here today for—" Polly lost the rest of his sentence. Back and yet farther back she slipped over the roof. She had never heard anything so dreadful as this. In fact, she had always quite llked pigs, but she had never thought of comparing the shanty or Granny Hope and Daddy Hopkins to a barnyard and its occupants, She heard the men ride away; and once more she sat up. By raising her body a little, she could see them walking their horses along the road that led its crooked way through the settlement, MacKenzie's straight, thick-set figure made her shudder, but the slim, boyish one beside him brought a queer little thrill to her heart. “He's a beautiful angel himself,” she murmured, and taking up the ax, she slipped down the tree and dropped to the wet ground. QGranny Hope stralghtened up as Polly entered the kitchen. Swiftly the girl crawled out of her father's trousers and tossed back her curls, “What's the matter, pretty brat?” queried the woman drowsily. “I got to find Daddy,” replied Polly, her volce shaking. “Old Marc’'s back an’ he's after us squatters a-flyln’, an’, Granny—" She paused, her face softened, and she smliled. “Yep, honey?" prompted Mrs., Hope. “Old Marc had a beautiful angel with him,” went on the girl, “an’ he | likes us squadters. He stood right up |to that rotten MacKenzie. I heard {him, I did.” She crossed to the old :\\'onum’s side. *“Love's able to send a | angel slapbang down to this old earth | to help us, huh, Granny Hope?” g “Yep, sure—sure, honey-girl,” mur{murcd Granny, and once more her | head bobbed forward, aud she slept. I Polly Hopkins ecrept out of the hut { and sped away along the shore toward iliud Man's ravine, CHAPTER Ili. About the time Polly Hopkins began to repair the shack roof, Evelyn Robertson came Into the room where her mother gat reading. The girl was dressed to go out and was drawing a pair of gloves over her ringed fingers. “Where are you golng, Eve?' inquired the lady. "It seems to me that you're running out altogether too much. There's your pilano! You haven't practiced in months. Now don't blame me, Eve, If, when Marcus asks you to play, you fall flat.” A dull red ran into the girl's cheeks, but she made no reply as she smoothed the wrinkles from her gloves, “The good Lord knows,” continued the mother irritably, “that I've kept at you enough. Now Mare and Robert are home, how are you going to entertain them? Men demand so much.” The experiences of the past two vears had taught Evelyn that lesson. It had been demand, demand and more demanding ever slnce, on girlish impulse, she had secretly married Oscar Bennett, “And you heard what Marcus said last night about the Silent City folks.” went on Mrs. Robertson. “What you want of that Hopkins girl I don’t understand. Marcus says her father is the most dangerous man among the lot of them, and the girl herself is queer.” “Oh, don’t talk about the squatters , all the time,” cried Evelyn. “I hate the very sound of the word., What's Polly Hopkins, anyway? . . . Now Marcus is home—" “Darling,” the mother interrupted eagerly, “it has always been my hope that you and Mare would grow to care for each other. He is so rich and so handsome! Now, isn't he?” A groan almost leapt from Evelyn’s lips. What a fool she had been! Here she was married to a man she loathed, a man she was ashamed of! The realization that another man, rich, good-looking and in every way desirable, had turned his serious eyes upon her, almost made her blurt out the whole story to her mother; but hav-

who, you feel, have treated you unJustly. If you have put up with their ill treatment while working for them surely you ought to be more willing to do so when you have the inner satisfaction of knowing that you are going. In fact, you can stretch a point and forgive and forget old rancors. It may be, you know, that in another shuffle up you will be placed in a position where one of the persons for whom you have the most spite will be placed in a position where his friendship will mean a great deal to you. So do the well-bred thing, which is to stifle your own petty animosities and exercise your self-control to the extent of leaving the old place with a handshake all-round.—Exchange. Carping Criticism. At a certain London store the decorative scheme includes a miniature fountain and a stock of goldfish. A small girl was overheard to remark, knowingly, “I suppose when they are grown up they are red bherrings!”--— London Post.

ing kept silent so loag, she dared not speak now. All through the night she had tossed and turned, hunting some way to get Oscar Bennett out of her life without Marcus MacKenzie knowing anything about it. She dared not go to Oscar himself; Polly Hopkins was the only hope she had. All Bennett cared for was money. He was as tired of her as she was of him. Perhaps he would go away quietly and set her free if she gave him money enough. Would her mother give it to her? “Mother, do you honestly want me to marry Marc?” she asked, trembling. Mrs. Robertson caught at the outflung hand. “I do, I do indeed, darling,” she answered. “And he’'ll ask you too, I'm sure. Perhaps not today or tomorrow, for he’'s just renewing his acquaintance with you. By the way he looked last night I could tell he was considering it.” A handkerchief dropped from Evelyn's fingers, and she stooped to pick it up. “If I lead Marcus on,” she suggested, rising, “and—and get him to ask me to marry him, will you give me any sum of money I want?” Her voice shook with emotion, and her young face seemed suddenly old and haggard. Mrs. Robertson had never seen her daughter in such a state. “Sit down a minute, Evelyn,” she commanded. “Now tell me what you want money for. I know very well that you haven’t spent what I've allowed you upon yourself. That's why I've refused you so much lately. No more secrets or mystery! 1 want the facts, Now tell me this minute.” The girl dropped into a chair and buried her face in her hands. “I can’t,” she whispered. For some time she remsained in the same attitude, while her mother studied her silently. At length the girl lifted herself erect. “I can't explain,” she broke out, “and 1 suppose you're thinking all kinds of things. I can’t help it If you do. You'll have to give me the money I need, if you want me to marry Marc, There's no ‘ifs’ and ‘ands’ about that. If you'll give me the money”—she faltered, wiped her lips and concluded slowly, “I'll marry Marcus MacKenzie.” “You must be crazy, Eve,” Mrs. Robertson said in a cold voeice, “to talk to me like that. If you have any secrets from me, it's time you told them.” “Well?” shot from Evelyn sharply, “suppose I have? It's my secret, isn't it? Are you going to help me or not, that's the question.” It was evident to Mrs. Robertson that the situation was not to be trifled with. In a twinkling her daughter had changed from a meek and timid girl to an aggressive woman. To try ta bully her any more would be a mere waste of effort, “Heavens,” she began, “this is a pretty how to do, I must say. I can't imagine why you should want money. It doesn’t make much difference, anyway. There are more reasons than one why you can't get it from me.” “What are they?” fell from the girl's lips. . “The first is,” returned the mother, tartly, “I don’t like being held up in this high-handed manner by my own daughter.” She paused; and Evelyn caught her breath, If that were all, she would row and rage until she got what she wanted. Mother and daughter were staring at one another, each demanding an explanation. Evelyn did not intend to make any! Mrs. Robertson weakened before the steely-blue in the girl’s eyes. “But the main reason is,” she went on, *I haven't got it. I don’t own this house, nor—nor—" Evelyn sprang to her feet and confronted her mother. Her face was drawn intn ecruel lines, and her hands were gripped spasmodically. “You lie,” she burst forth. “You've always lied to me about money.” A bitter smile drew down the corners of the older woman’'s moath. She knew how true the accusation was, “Well, this time,” she angwered, “I'm telling you the simple truth. 1 not only do not own this house, but—" “Then who does own it?” interjected the girl. “Your cousin, Robert Percival,” was the quick response; “and he’s supplied all the money we have used. Now perhaps you won't try to get something out of me I haven't got.” “Mother!” cried the girl, in agony. “I told you, Eve, that you should know the truth,” Mrs. Robertson con. tinued. “You've asked for it, and here it is. When Robert’'s father and mother dieel, I came here to take care of him. I had nothing then and have nothing now. You were only a baby, and I've slways kept the facts from you. When Robert went to war, he arranged that if he didn’t come back, I should have the home and enough money to keep us.” Tvelyn’s eyes widened. Os a surety this was the truth. “Then we aren’t rich?”’ she demanded huskily. “No, that we're not!” responded the lady, *“and what's more, we are dependent upon Robert for everything.” With a quick gesture Evelyn caught her mother’'s arm, despalr changing the lines on her face. “Oh, you needn’t be so theatrical, my dear,” said the woman. *“Robert’s never given me the slightest reason to feel he thought us a burden. I'm quite like his mother, as I should be. The only thing necessary is that you should feather your own nest before Bob makes up his mind to get married. 1 know very well you've turned down many a young man in Ithaca. Now your chance has come. Marc MacKenzie's rich. He loves you—” Without waiting to hear anything more, Evelyn ran out of the room. Mrs. Robertson sank back with a sigh partly of relief that at last Evelyd knew just the situation they were in, partly of anxiety as to her daughter's secret. “Bob! Then the soldier in the uniform was Evelyn’s cousin!” (TO BE CONTINUED.,)

oiS R T Os AT BRSPS, Drewn from actuel photograph of Daryl e Wilsen, son of Mrs. Margaret Wilson, 1110 Eighth Stveet, Milwaukee, Wis. ‘ Are you as justl d ﬁ‘é‘ y justly prou L 4 s . -e as this boy’s mother? i DARYL WILSON is the kind of baby every mother wants her child to be. He is strong,sturdy,handome. Hehas been voted the best baby in fwo baby shows in Milwaukee, Wis.,where he lives.

Mrs. Wilson attributes his fine health toEsagle Brand, on which he wasraised. Mrs. Wilson was an Eagle Brand baby too, so of course she brought up her little son on it. This is one of the thousands of cases where Eagle Brand has been the accepted baby food for severalgenerationsin the same family. In some cases grandmother, mother, and child were all reared on it. For Eagle Brand has been the standard for sixty-four years. No thoughtful mother would experiment with her baby. Mother’s milk is best, of course, but if it fails for any reason, Eagle Brand is the natural substitute. Eagle Brand is not a “prepared” food at all. It is nothing but K:ore milk and pure sugar combined. thers all over the country have written us of the wonderful results they have had in feeding it to their babies. And doctors recommend it in stubborn feeding cases—it is so very digestible. Eagle Brand Milk is entirely safe, pure and uniform. Each can is like the last, so that there is not the slightest wvariation in baby’s food —a most Important consideration according to Name._ Address

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