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THE STARKVILLE NEWS.
VOLUME 111. ’ TWO I DISCOVERIES MT c. scwcu I ’M always wondering,” remarked I Elva, reflectively, as she handed me my second cup of tea, “when you’re really going to fall In love, and —” “Don’t be too hasty,” I interrupted, as f assisted myself to sugar; “perhaps I’m even now consumed with the disquiet ing fever.” “You’re so fat,** said Elva, disparag ingly. “Nonsense!** I protested. “Simply well covered. Why, my tailor altered my measurements only yesterday!” “Oh, of course, if you won’t be seri ous,” she sighed, resignedly, and pre pared to nibble a judiciously browned muffin; “but really, Monty, you're —let me see —40 —you’re independent, and — *m —”—she regarded me critically with her head on one side —“passably good looking; and yet you let pretty, nice, suitable girls slip through your fingers by dozens, because you’re either too lazy or too conceited to take sufficient inter est in them.” “Don’t lecture me.” I pleaded—Elva is prone to lectures; “you’re so dreadful ly impulsive, you know. Asa matter of fact I looked in this very afternoon on purpose to tell you how —how abom inably in love I am!” Something in my tone must have struck her as unusual. The muffin, like Mahomet’s coffin, remained suspended while she surveyed me intently, presum ably to see if she could detect any latent humor in my countenance. I did not move a muscle. “If I were quite certain that you were in earnest,” she began, hesitatingly, and I thought—though, of course. I had no business to think—that her voice was a little unsteady, “I should say how very I 1 ntx. ” “Please try and believe me,” I pleaded. She studied my face as if undecided what to do. “Is it recent?” she asked at last. “It happened—yesterday,” I con fessed. “You remember, I always prom ised that you should be the first to know whenever I really had anything to tell, and I was just going to begin ■when you fell upon me.” „“Yesterday?” murmured Elva. in evi dent surprise. “Then it must have been at Lady Follet’s garden party.” I nodded. “Was it love at first sight, or had you Been her before?” “I had seen her,” I said, guardedly, •‘once or twice.” “Oh!” said Elva, and I think she flushed. “Then, of course, it’s Mollie Richards. I saw you talking to her for ages in the rosary. She’s a nice girl, I believe, and I’m really awfully glad. Monty—awfully.” Somehow her tone didn’t carry the conviction it was doubtless intended to convey; I pre sumed it was because Miss Richards was never a very particular friend of hers. “I suppose.” she went on, “you’ll pro pose at once. You’re no need to wait like most poor creatures.” “I intend.” I said, firmly, “to offer myself with as little delay as possible.” “And you really don’t mind my tak ing the privilege of an old friend—a very old friend —to ask you all these questions, do you?” “Not the least in the world,” I said, graciously; I expected them.” “What do you mean by that?” she In quired, with suspicion. “Nothing, except that you’re cate chised me about my matrimonial pros pects ever since you could toddle. Do you remember, for instance, asking me at a schoolroom tea in your early youth whether it was my intention to marry your fraulein or not?” Elva’s face brightened promptly. “Rather!” she said; “and fraulein turned all sorts of colors, and told mother the next day that she would no longer stay ‘with a child so embar rassing.’ I really think she had a ten dresse for you, Monty.” “Probably,” I agreed. “Many people have.” “Don’t be conceited,** reprimanded Elva; “but tell me all about Mollie Richards, and exactly what attracted you.. Some people call her pretty, I I rather admire her myself, only— ’* “Mollie Richards?” I inquired, with extreme innocence. “Who said any thing about Mollie Richards?” **Why. did, of course, that is to say—yes —no, I suppose you didn’t, then —why, I did, I suppose; hut anyhow what’s the good of cavilling about her? It is Mollie Richards, Isn’t it?” “I wouldn’t marry Mollie Richards/* STARKVILLE, MISS., FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 11, 1904. I said, decisively, “if they shot me lor refusing!” Elva poured herself out some more tea, and —yes. it was not my imagina tion —her hand did shake, and she looked as if it would have been a re lief to her feelings to have launched the teapot at my head. “Monty, you are trying,” she ex claimed; “upon ray word you are! You insist that you’ve come to tell me, as your best friend, that you’ve really fmmd some one that you could care for at last, and then you sit and twist your mustache and make me guess all the wrong people, and —” “I never made you guess anyone.” I said, indignantly, removing my hand from my upper lip with a jerk. “I mere ly informed you that I fell in love yes terday. I suppose there’s no objection to that? And when you suggested that it happened at Lady Follet’s. 1 agreed.” “Well.” said Elva. in a judicial tone, “you didn’t stay mare than three-quar ters of an hour. Directly you arrived you took me to see the aviary, and the rest of the time you spent in the rosary with Mollie Richards.” “If I’d known you wore watching my movements so carefully—” 1 began. Elva blushed furiously. “When people make themselves con spicuous,” she said, frostily, “their do ings are bound to form the subject of comment. Mollie Richards always per sists in wearing maize with her particu lar shade of red-auburn hair, and —I could see her from all over the garden.’’ “Almost without looking?” I sug gested, carelessly. Elva passed over this remark with con tempt, but I couldn’t help noticing that the flush deepened. “Well, as it’s not Mollie,” she observed with dignity, “and as you’ve called on purpose, perhaps you’ll be obliging enough to tell me who it is, so that I may congratulate or condone with you, as the case may be.” “You’ll condone,” said I. with con viction. “Why, please?” “l>fc*use she —this girl, who isn’t a straw for me —in that way, and the whole thing is hopeless.” Elva softened instantly. “How can you tell if you’ve never asked her?” she demanded. “She may be simply pining away for your sake, if you only knew”—her gaze wandered through the window and settled on a bed of brilliant begonias in the front garden—“girls don’t always wear their hearts on their sleeves, even in these matter-of-fact days, Monty.” I raised my eyes. They had been busily engaged in tracing the pattern of the carpet. “Do you think it's likely,” T asked, “that any girl would really fall in love with a man twice her age. if —” “Oh, she’s young,” interrupted Elva, hastily. “Do you know, I’m rather glad of that.” I held up a deprecating hand. “Please let me finish,” I implored. “Twice her age. when she’s tyrannized over him, teased him and looked upon him as an old fogey for the greater part of her natural life?” Elva eyed me sharply. The color came and went in her cheeks in a way that I had never seen it before. I put my eyeglass in order to better admire the effect. “You said you’d seen her only once or twice,” she resumed, severely; but the quiver in her voice robbed the se verity of any sting. I waved my hand. “Lovers’ license!” I said, airily. ”1 couldn’t divulge everything at once.” “If you've known her so long, how comes it that you only—well—discov ered the state of your feelings yester day ?”x “ ‘There is a tide in the affairs of men,’ ” I quoted. “Likewise, there is a psychological moment when a man sud denly realizes a fact that may have been staring* him in the face for years.” “And that psychological moment oc curred at Lady Follet’s?” “Occuired at Lady Follet’s,” I echoed. And then there was a long si lence. I let my eyes wander slowly round the room. They lingered vaguely on the ridiculous blue cats with which Elva adorns her mantelshelf, and skimmed the photographs of her numerous ad mirers—some o( them thrust carelessly into the overmantel, and some, the more fortunate, smirking at me from elab orate frames. I think Elva’s eyes must have been wandering, too. for they came to an chor at the same moment as mine, and then, without any rhyme or reason, they filled quite suddenly with tears. Now I can never see a woman cry without feeling that something—some thing drastic must be done at once. 1 started up. and then the rest seemed to follow as a natural and easy conse quence. In less time than It takes to chronicle, Elva was crying quietly on my shoulder, and the blue cats were grinning diabol ically from their several coigns of van tage. “And when,” I asked, after we had become more or less normal, and re turned to earth once again, “when was your psychological moment, Elva?” Elva fingered a gardenia in my but tonhole —took it out —smelt it, and re placed it carefully. “When you pretended—l mean, when I thought you were pretending, and that it was Mollie Richards, you know,” she said, incoherently. And the blue cats grinned more than ever, as much as to say: “We know something about human nature, though we are only china.” —Free Lance. GIRL RECLAIMED FROM VICE Queen of Bandit Gang: Changes Life to One of Purity with Aid of Salvation Army. At a meeting held at Innergleithen re cently, under the presidency of tha Master of Elibank, M. P., Gen. Booth told the story of an Australian Salvation Army soldier who, as a girl of 18, was in the habit of smoking, drinking and gambling. She was known as the “Queen of the Flying Angels,” a gang of 36 men, who were a terror to the com munity. Again and again she was in the hands of the police, and was regarded as incorrigible. One day she was handed over to the matron of a Salvation Army rescue home, whore at times she would work and behave well, while at other times she used to take the notion into her head of throwing about everything upon w-hich she could lay her hands. For some while this continued, until eventually she changed her way. A situation was obtained for her. and she got on well until one of her old asso ciates of the “Flying Angels” discovered her and tried to 11 trap her. She wrote to her captain, who hurried off to see her, and advised her to go to another part of the country, which she did, and has never again been troubled by the “Flying Angels.” ELEPHANTS LIKE TOBACCO. Animal Trainer Puts Lie to Stories About Big- Beast—Toss Aside Objectionable Morsels. Tim Buckley, who knows elephants as a mother knows her own children, told a Louisville Courier-Journal rep resentative recently that the story of tne elephant cherishing revenge for the tailor who had given him a piece of tobacco, and years after soaking him with muddy water, is all a fake. Elephants will not take tobacco or anything else, if they do not want it. even if they have had it in their mouths; and, what is more, I have known elephants to be really fond of tobacco and to eat it with pleasure. I have had elephants that would steal a plug of tobacco out orf a man’s pocket and swallow the whole thing. They do not like the tobacco, but thev do like the licorice. Men and boys will frequently give them tobacco and other things which they do not like, under the pretense of feeding them peanuts, but the elephant is wise, avd he will simply toss such things to one side and go on the ordinary course of his life, without a thought of fill ing his trunk with muddy water an* wetting the person who gave him the stuff.” Culinary Progress. Germans have long since accustomed us to the edible fork, and now, says a contemporary, English hotel keepers have started an edible menu card. It is made of biscuit, and not meant to be eaten, of course, until the end of the meal. A menu card and a glass of wine will, however. It is thought, satisfy many who like a quick lunch. If progress is made along these lines we shall soon have edible waiters. Some Consolation. Alas! that there should be only 177 American families who possess the proper heraldic qualifications for “ex alted rank” in the British dominion. But If rank is but the guinea stamp, as Burns says, the dollar stamp on certain American escutcheons will probably continue to pass current at par in titled circles of England. Nocturnal Discussions. The Cleveland Cat club is planning to hold a cat show In November. This is probably the subject of the backyard discussion you hear when you wafee up in the night, remarks the Buffalo Ex press. THREE VESSELS OF THE RUSSIAN BALTIC FLEET. fvH ~.3^ /T'x a V N\ Vv/V^^ ROTARY PLATFORM HOUSES Novel Invention by Which Sunshine May Be Enjoyed All Day Long. Dr. Pellegrin and Architect Petit, of Paris, have designed, according to recent cable dispatches, a method by which houses, erected on specially constructed, rotating platforms, can be made to face any desired direction. The platform, as planned, is supported by two concentric walls, and the axis of rotation Is occupied by a shaft through which pass the supply and waste pipes. A gas engine moves the platform, which may be harnessed to clockwork. The clockwork may be so arranged as to enable the house front to follow the sun during the day. The plan has attracted the attention of scientists throughout the civilized world. The curative power of the sun’s rays has been long admitted. Their po tentiality as a disease preventative is beyond dispute, says the New York Times. That New York is the one city able to construct a whole street of houses on rotating platforms, or any other kind of platforms which may prove a fad, is beyond peradventure. “Until the engineering possibilities of the proposition are demonstrated beyond a doubt.” said Commissioner Thomas Darlington, of the department of health. “I question its feasibility. But if the rotating houses are possible there can be no discussion as to their desirability. “The sun kills disease germs. Its rays constitute the best disinifectant known. They are the principal factors in increas ing the red blood corpuscles. Iron is of very little value in providing red blood unless combined with the sun. The Ro mans and the ancient peoples knew the value of the sun, for they constructed their houses so that they might take sun baths upon their roofs. The Aztecs and the dwellers in the southwestern portion of this continent were formerly sun wor shippers, for they know its munificent effects. “The chief benefits to accrue to people going to the far west are due to the com parative absence of cloudy days. There are parts of the United States that enjoy perpetual sunshine. Sunshine' is the greatest destroyer of mildew and mold. It is * purifier of water. People who work during the night are invariably pallid of face and flabby of muscle. Their blood is impoverished. They are not armed for the battle of life. “Above all, sunshine is the one agency most conducive to cheerfulness. It Is 4 .he cheapest kind of medicine. Rotating houses, constructed to point toward the sun from its rising to its setting, would be rather expensive, but they would well repay the cost.” Not to Be Stumped. A tramp up in' Piscataquis county rang a doorbell the other day, and when the woman of the house, a raw-boned, determined looking person, came to the ioor, he asked, thinking it a good joke: ‘Madam, will you marry me?” The woman unrolled her sleeves, reached for her hat and jacket and said: “Well, ”ve burled four on ye, and I reckin I iln’ttakjn’ no stump!” The tramp fled. Veiling the story at the village grocery, le added: “When you go up that way, vou want to find out whether you’re on Widows’ avenue or Old Maids’ row.”— N. Y. Sun. NUMBER 36. SOME TRAITS OF THE CZAR Represented as Amiable in One Quar ter and Weak and Fickle in Another. Much has been written Jately con cerning Nicholas Aiexandrovitch. He is represented as amiab.e and well iu tentioned in one quarter; as weak and fickle in another; as obstinate and hysterical in a third. There is a cer tain amount of truth In each and all of these descriptions, says Carl Jou bert, in the Nineteenth Century. A good deal depends on nis humor and the time of day. In the morning he will arise, full of good intentions and amiability. An interview with his chief adviser, the procurator, will en tirely alter his outlook, and his good intentions will be consigned to the usual destination. An audience given to another minister will bring out a fresh trait in his versatile nature. And so on throughout the day. I have been blamed for denouncing the czar in “Russia as It Really Is” without regard for historical circum stances. It has been pointed out to me that the evils which exist in Rus sia are the creation of centuries. In that case, I repiy, surely tne time has arrived for steps to be taken to eradi cate some of the more glaring evils. The slate of a nation may be the in heritance of centuries; but the same cannot be said of the state of mind of any one individual in the nation, es pecially If that individual has had all the advantages that education, travel and a worldwide field of vision can give. For Russia we can only feel extreme pity. But for the man who is in the possession of absolute power, and who, by the stroke of a pen, could, but does not, make a beginning, at least, of anew and happier era for hia country w r e must leel stLl more. Telephone in Jungle. Abyssinia is being .“wired.” Some 1,000 miles of telephone line have been put up and as much more is being laid. The work is no joke. The rains and the poles fell. The white ants ate up a large collection of wooden poles. Then iron ones were put up, which the simple na tive liked so well that he took them home to use in his business. The negus stopped the amusement by proclaiming death to the pole pilferers. But the royal mandate cannot prevent the Ban darlog, the monkey people, from swing ing in the wires or —what is much more delightful —the elephant from scratch ing himself against the poles. The telephone pole is a scratching post for elephants. Thus does civilization pro vide home comforts for the jungle peo ple.—Everybody’s Magazine. Origin of Free Lunch. A Scotch Investigator has discovered the origin of the American free lunch in the old Scotch custom of serving a “Spelding,” or dried salt haddock, with each drink of ale or whisky, which still is practiced at the inns and public houses of Caledonia.' The purpose, ol course, is to create a thirst for more ol the beverage, and it must be admitted that the purpose is usually achieved. Even In America there is more than a suspicion that the ingredients of the free lunch are often selected with the same end in view.—N. Y. Times.