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THURSDAY, AUG. 31, 19391 THE DIM LANTERN DI By Temple BAILEY PBNN PUBLISHING CCk WWU SBRVICB THE STORY CHAPTER I—Young. pretty Jane Barnes, who lived with her brother. Baldwin, in Sherwood Park, near Washington, was not particularly impressed when she read that rich, attractive Edith Towne had been left at the altar by Delafield Simms, wealthy New Yorker. However, she still mused over it when she met Evans Follette, a young neighbor, whom the war had left completely discouraged and despondent. Evans had always loved Jane. CHAPTER II—That morning Baldwin Barnes, on his way to work in Washing ton, offered assistance to a tall, lovely girl in distress. Later he found a bag she had left in the car, containing a diamond ring on which was inscribed “Del to Edith—Forever." He knew then that his passenger had been Edith Towne. Al ready he was half way in love with her. That night he discussed the matter with Jane, and they called her uncle, worldly, sophisticated Frederick Towne. He visited them at their home, delighted with Jane’s simplicity. He told them Edith’s story, and they filled in the missing lines. CHAPTER IIT—Because her uncle de sired it, Edith Towne had accepted Dela field Simms, whom she liked but did not love. That did not prevent her from be coming furious when he failed to show up for the wedding. She disappeared im mediately after the wedding was to have taken place. Hearing the story. Baldy and Jane sympathized with Edith, not with her uncle. The next day Jane received a basket •f fruit from Towne, asking if he might call again. CHAPTER IV—Mrs. Follette, widowed mother of Evans, was a woman of in domitable courage. Impoverished, she nev ertheless managed to keep Evans and herself in comparative comfort by running a dairy farm. Evans, mentally depressed and disillusioned, had little self reliance and looked to his mother and Jane for guidance. After returning from the Fol lette’s next day. Baldy is called to the phone by Edith Towne, in answer to an ad. She asked him to bring her pocketbook. She Is staying with an old employee at a hotel some miles away. CHAPTER V—-Jane calls on Frederick Towne in his elaborate office. After she leaves to go shopping, he gives Lucy, his stenographer, a letter to Delafield Simms, in which he severely criticizes him. Un known to him, Lucy and Simms are in love with each other. Jane returns, and he takes her home in his limousine. She in troduces him to Evans, who, knowing that be is far from his former companionable self. Is jealous of Towne. CHAPTER VI—Baldy goes to meet Edith Towne at her hiding place. He convinces her that she should return home and face her friends. She is interested in Baldy, especially when he tells her of his attempts to paint. Later they eat in a restaurant, where Edith sees several friends. She knows they will see to it that the news is spread. CHAPTER VII—When Towne asks Jane to dine with him Evans realizes that he must do something to rehabilitate himself. He goes to consult Dr. Hallam, the family physician, who advises him to sell some of the rare books in the Follette li brary and start in his law office where he had left off after the war. Evans agrees, with his mother’s consent, to follow in structions. He opens an office in Washing ton, where he had practiced law before the war. CHAPTER VIII—While at Towne's home for dinner Jane meets Adelaide Laramore, an old love of Towne’s. She is there, with friends, to witness the return of Edith. The next day Jane invites Edith, her uncle and the Follettes for tea. Baldy shows them the picture of Jane he has painted. Towne is disgruntled when Baldy refuses to sell it to him, preferring to enter it in a con test. That afternoon Towne asks Jane to marry him. She does not answer, and Towne does not press her for an immedi ate reply CHAPTER IX—A telegram comes to Jane and Baldy from Judy, their married sister living in Chicago. She is ill and wants Jane to come and take care of her two children. She leaves immediately and Towne sees her off. She arrives in Chicago shortly, and takes over the household du ties. Meanwhile Evans is forcing himself to enjoy the things he used to like, though he misses Jane a great deal CHAPTER X—At a Christmas eve par ty at Towne’s, Edith intimates that she loves Baldy. A few days later Lucy Logan, Frederick’s secretary, calls on Edith. She explains to Edith tnat she and Delafield Simms plan to be married. Edith, surprised at the girl’s frankness, is friendly. She advises Lucy to capitalize on her husband’s hobbies and interest him in farming. CHAPTER XI—Baldy hears from Jane, who tells him Judy's illness is such that she must remain in Chicago. Judy and her husband have no money, and are consid erably worried. Towne goes to Chicago to see Jane, who has been convinced by Judy’s husband that the only way Judy's life can be saved is through Jane's mar riage to Towne, who could hire a spe cialist. She agrees to marry him. CHAPTER XII—Evans is completely broken when he hears of Jane’s plans. He plans on committing suicide, only to be saved by overhearing the conversation of two small boys. He feels certain that Jane is marrying Towne only to save her sister and her sister’s family. Baldy agrees with him. They are at a loss, however, to pre vent her from going through with what she considers her part of a bargain, even though the thought of it is distasteful to her. CHAPTER XHI—Adelaide Laramore and Towne, who nas returned home, go for a ride. He tells her that he is going to marry Jane Barnes She says nothing, but is evidently planning. In the meantime Baldy and Edith begin to realize more and more that Jane does not love Towne, and that she is sacrificing herself. CHAPTER XIV—Jane tells Towne that they are Invited to Simms’ for a party. They decide to go. But the conversation had frightened Jane. She realizes that she both fears and respects Towne, but does not love him. Later she calls on Mrs. Fol lette, who suffers a heart attack but re covers almost immediately. (Now go on with the story.) CHAPTER XV Lucy was still to Eloise Harper the stenographer of Frederick Towne. Out of place, of course, in this fine country house, with its for mal gardens, its great stables, its retinue of servants. “What do you do with your selves?” she asked her hostess, as she came down, ready for dinner, in revealing apricot draperies and found Lucy crisp in white organdie with a band of black velvet around her throat. “Do?” Lucy’s smile was ingenu ous. “We are very busy, Del and I. We feed the pigs.” “Pigs?” Eloise stared. She had assumed that a girl of Lucy’s type would affect an elaborate attitude of leisure. And here she was, instead, fashionably energetic. They led the pi^s. it seemed, ac tually. “Of course not the big ones. But the little ones have their bot tles. There are ten and their moth er died. You should see Del and me. He carries the bottle in a met al holder—round,”—Lucy’s hand de scribed the shape,—“and when they see him cumms they all squeal, and it’s adorable Lucy’s air was demure. She was very happy. She was a woman of strong spirit. Already she had in terested her weak husband beyond anything he had ever known in his drifting days of bachelorhood. “Aft er dinner,” she told Eloise, “I’ll show you Del’s roses. They are quite marvellous. I think his col lection will be beyond anything in this part of the country.” Delafield, coming up, said, “They are Lucy’s roses, but she says I am to do the work.” “But why not have a gardener?” Eloise demanded. “Oh, we have. But I should hate to have our garden a mere mat ter of—mechanics. Del has some splendid ideas. We are going to work for the flower shows. Prizes and all that.” Delafield purred like a pussy-cat. “I shall name my first rose the ‘Little Lucy Logan.’ Edith, locking arms with Jane, a little later, as they strolled under a wisteria-hung trellis towards the fountain, said, "Lucy’s making a man of him because she loves him. And I would have laughed at him. We would have bored each other to death.” “’Riey will never be bored,” Jane decided, “with their roses and their little pigs.” They had reached the fountain. It was an old-fashioned one, with thin streams of water spouting up from the bill of a bronzed crane. There were goldfish in the pool, and a big green frog leaped from a lily pad. Beyond the fountain the wisteria roofed a path of pale light. A pea cock walked slowly towards them, its long tail sweeping the ground in burnished beauty. "Think of this,” said Jane, “and Lucy’s days at the office.” “And yet,” Edith pondered, “she told me if he had not had a penny she would have been happy with him.” “I believe it. With a cottage, one pig, and a rose-bush, they would find bliss. It is like that with them.” The two women sat down on the marble coping of the fountain. The peacock trailed by them, its jewels all ablaze under the sun. Adelaide, in her burnished tulle, tall, slender, graceful as a willow, was swinging along beneath the trel lis. The peacock had turned and walked beside her. "What a pic ture Baldy could make of that,” Edith said, ‘The Proud Lady? “Do you know,” Jane’s voice was also lowered, “when I look at her, I feel that it is she who should marry your uncle.” Edith was frank. “I should hate her. And so would he in a month. She’s artificial, and you are so adorably natural, Jane.” Adelaide had reached the circle of light that surrounded the foun tain. “The men have come and have gone up to dress,” she said. “All except your uncle, Edith. He telephoned that he can’t get here until after dinner. He has an im portant conference.” “He said he might be late. Benny came, of course?” “Yes, and Eloise is happy. He had brought her all the town gossip. That’s why I left. I hate gossip.” Edith knew that pose. No one could talk more devastatingly than Adelaide of her neighbor’s affairs. But she did it, subtly, with an ef fect of charity. “I am very fond of her,” was her way of prefacing a ruthless revelation. “I thought your brother would be down,” Adelaide looked at Jane, I hope it d. OS won’t rain,” Edith pc s on the rim of the fountain, like 1 a blue butterfly,—“but he wasn’t with the rest.” “Baldy can’t be here until tomor row noon. He had to be in the of fice.” “What are you going to do with yourself in the meantime, Edith?” Adelaide was in a mood to make people uncomfortable. She was un comfortable herself. Jane, in bil lowing heavenly blue with rose rib bons floating at her girdle, was youth incarnate. And it was her youth that had attracted Towne. The three women walked towards the house together. As they came out from under the arbor, they were aware of black clouds stretched across the horizon. “I hope it won’t rain,” Edith said, “Lucy is planning to serve dinner on the terrace.” Adelaide was irritable. “I wish she wouldn’t. There’ll be bugs and things.” Jane liked the idea of an out-of door dinner. She thought that the maids in their pink linen were like rose-leaves blown across the lawn. There was a great umbrella over the table, rose-striped. “How gay it is,” she said: “I hope the rain won’t spoil it.” When they reached the wide-pil lared piazza, no one was there. The wind was blowing steadily from the bank of clouds. Edith went in to get a scarf. And so Jane and Adelaide were left alone. Adelaide sat in a big chair with a back like a spreading fan she was statuesque, and knew it, but she would have exchanged at the mo ment every classic line for the ef fect that Jane gave of unpremedi tated grace and beauty. The child had flung a cushion on the marble step, and had dropped down upon it. The wind caught up her ruffles, so that she seemed to float in a cloud. She laughed, and kicked her whirl ing draperies about her. “I love the wind, don’t you?” Adelaide did not love the wind. It rumpled her hair. She felt spite fully ready to hurt Jane. “It is a pity,” she said, after a pause, “that Ricky can’t dine with us.” Jane agreed. “Mr. Towne always seems to be a very busy person.” Adelaide carried a little gauze fan with gold-lacquered sticks. When she spoke she kept her eyes upon the fan. “Do you always call him ‘Mr. Towne’?” “Of course.” “But not when you’re alone.” Jane flushed. “Yes, I do. Why not?” “But, my dear, it is so very for mal. And you are going to marry him.” “He said that he had told you.” "Ricky tells me everything. We are very old friends, you know.” Jane said nothing. There was, indeed, nothing to say. She was not in the least jealous of Adelaide. She wondered, of course, why Towne should have overlooked this lovely lady to choose a shabby child. But he had chosen the child, and that settled it as far as Mrs. Laramore was concerned. But it did not settle it for Ade laide. “I think it is distinctly amus ing for you to call him 'Mr. Towne? Poor Ricky! You mustn’t hold him at arms’ length.” “Why not?” “Well, none of the rest of us have,” said Adelaide, deliberately. Jane looked up at her. “The rest of you? What do you mean, Mrs. Laramore?” "Oh, the women that Ricky has loved,” lightly. The winds fluttered the ribbons of Jane’s frock, fluttered her ruffles. The peacock on the lawn uttered a discordant note. Jane was subcon sciously aware of a kinship between Adelaide and the burnished bird. She spoke of the peacock. “What a disagreeable voice he has.” Adelaide stared. “Who?” “The peacock," said Jane. Then Eloise and Edith came in, and presently the men, and Lucy and Del from a trip to the small porkers, and Adelaide going out with Del to dinner was uncomfortably aware that Jane had either artlessly or artfully refused to discuss with her the women who had been loved by Frederick Towne! The dinner was delicious. “Our farm products,” Delafield boasted. Even the fish, it seemed, he had caught that morning, motoring over to the river and bringing them back to be split and broiled and served with little new potatoes. There was chicken and asparagus, small cream cheeses with the salad, heaped-up berries in a Royal Worcester bowl, roses from the garden. “All home grown,” said the proud new hus band. Jane ate with little appetite. She had refused to discuss with Adelaide the former heart affairs of her be trothed, but the words rang in her ears, “The women that Ricky has loved.” Jane was young. And to youth, love is for the eternities. The thought of herself as one of a suc cession of Dulcineas was degrading. She was restless and unhappy. It was useless to assure herself that Towne had chosen her above all the rest. She was not sophisticated enough to assume that it is, per haps, better to be a man’s last love than his first. That Towne had made it possible for any woman to speak of him as Adelaide spoke, seemed to Jane to drag her own relation to him in the dust. The strength of the wind in creased. The table was sheltered by the house, but at last Delafield decided, “We’d better go in. The rain is coming. We can have our coffee in the hall.” Their leaving had the effect of a stampede. Big drops splashed into the plates. The men servants and maids scurried to the rescue of china and linen. The draperies of the women streamed in the wind Adelaide’s tulle was a banner of green and blue. The peacock came swiftly up the walk, crying raucously, and found a sheltered spot beneath the steps. From the wide hall, they saw the rain in silver sheets. Then the doors were shut against the beating wind. They drank their coffee, and bridge tables were brought in. There were enough without Jane to form two tables. And she was glad. She wandered into the living-room and curled herself up in a window-seat. The window opened on the porch. Beyond the white pillars she could see the road, and the rain-drenched garden. After a time the rain stopped, and the world showed clear as crys tal against the opal brightness of the western sky. The peacock came out of his hiding-place, and dragged a heavy tail over the sodden lawn. It was cool and the air was sweet. Jane lay with her head against a cushion, looking out. She was lonely and wished that Towne would come. Perhaps in his presence her doubts would vanish. It grew dark and darker. Jane shut her eyes and at last she fell asleep. She was waked by Towne’s voice. He was on the porch. “Where is everybody?” It was Adelaide who answered him. “They have motored into Alex andria to the movies. Eloise would have it. But I stayed—waiting for vnn. RicVv.” THE BLUFFTON NEWS, BLUFFTON, OHIO “Where’s Jane?” “She w’ent up-stairs early. Like a sleepy child.” Jane heard his laugh. “She is a child—a darling child.” Then in the darkness Adelaide said, “Don’t, Ricky.” “Why not?” “Do you remember that once upon a time you called me—a dar ling child?” “Did I? Well, perhaps you were. You are certainly a very charming woman.” Jane, listening breathlessly, as sured herself that of course he was polite. He had to be. Adelaide was speaking. “So you are going to announce it tomorrow?” “Who told you?” “Edith.” “Well, it seemed best, Adelaide. The wedding day isn’t far off—and the world will have to know it.” A hushed moment, then, “Oh, Ricky, Ricky!” "Adelaide! Don’t take it like that.” “I can’t help it. You are going out of my life. And you've always been so strong, and big, and brave. No other man will ever match you.” When he spoke, his voice had a new and softer note. “I didn’t dream it would hurt you.’’ “You might have known.” The lightning flickering along the horizon showed Adelaide standing beside Towne’s chair. “Ricky” the whispered words reached Jane—“kiss me once—to say ‘good-by? CHAPTER XVI Young Baldwin Barnes, on Satur day morning, ate breakfast alone in the little house. He read his paper and drank his coffee. But the savor of things was gone. He missed Jane. Her engaging chatter, the spirited challenge, even the small ir ritations. “She is such a darling dear,” was his homesick meditation. Oh, a man needed a woman on the other side of the table. And when Jane was married, what then? Edith! Oh, if he might! If Philomel might sing for her! Toast and poached eggs! Nectar and ambrosia! His little house a castle! “But it isn’t mine own,” the young poet reminded himself “there is still the mortgage.” He came down to earth, cleared the table, fed the pussy-cats. Then he went down to the post-box to get the mail. The Barnes’ mail was rarely vo luminous, rarely interesting. A bill or two, a letter from Judy—some futile advertising stuff. This morning, however, there was a long envelope. In one corner was the name of the magazine to which, nearly six months before, Baldy had sent his prize cover design. The thing had almost gone out of his thoughts. He had long ceased to hope. Money did not miraculously fall into one’s lap. He tore open the envelope. With in was a closely typed letter and a pale pink check. The check was for two thousand dollars. He had won the prize! Breathless with the thought of it, deprived of strength, he sat down on the terrace steps. Merrymaid and the kitten came down and an gled for attention, but Baldy over looked them utterly. The letter was astounding. The magazine had not only given him the prize but they wanted more of his work. They would pay well for it—and if he would come to New York at their expense, the art editor would like to talk it over! Baldy, looking up from the preg nant phrases and ^catching Merry maid’s eye upon -him, demanded, “Now, what do you think of that? Shall I resign from the office? I’ll tell the world, I will.” Oh, the thing might even make it possible for him to marry Edith. He could at least pay for the honey moon—preserve some sense of per sonal independence while he worked towards fame. If she would only see it. That he must ask her to live for a time—in the little house. He’d make things easy for her—oh, well, the thing could be done—it could be done. He flew up the steps on the wings of his delight. He would ride like the wind to Virginia—find Edith in a rose-garden, fling himself at her feet Declare his good fortune! And he would see her eyes! Packing his bag, he decided to stop in Washington, and perpetrate a few extravagances. Something for Edith. Something for Jane. Some thing for himself. There would be no harm in looking his best He arrived at Grass Hills in time for lunch. His little flivver came up the drive as proudly as a limou sine. And Baldy descending was a gay and gallant figure. There was no one in sight but the servants who took his bag, and drove his car around to the garage. A maid in rose linen said that Mr. and Mrs. Simms were at the stables. Misg Towne was on the links with the other guests, and would return from the Country Club in time for lunch at two o’clock. Miss Barnes was up-stairs. Her head had ached, and she had had her breakfast in bed. “Will you let her know that I am here?” The maid went up and came down to say that Miss Barnes was in the second gallery—and would he go right up. The second gallery looked out over the river. Jane lay in a long chair. She was pale, and there were shadows under her eyes. “Oh, look here, Janey,” Baldy blurted out, “is it as bad as this?” “I’m just—lazy.” She sat up and kissed him. Then buried her face in his coat and wept silently. “For heaven’s sake, Jane,” he pat ted her shoulder, “what’s the mat ter?” “I want to go home.” He looked blank. “Home?” “Yes.” She stopped crying. “Baldy, something has happened— and I’ve got to tell you?’ Tensely, with her hands clasped about her knees, she rehearsed for him the scene between Adelaide and Fred erick Towne. And, when she finished she said, “I can’t marry him.” “Of course not. A girl like you. You’d be miserable. And that’s the end of it.” “Utterly miserable.” She stared before her. Then presently she went on. “I stayed up-stairs all the morn ing. Lucy and Edith have been perfect dears. I think Edith lays it to the announcement of my engage ment tonight. That I was dread ing it. Of course it mustn’t be an nounced, Baldy.” He stood up, sternly renouncing his dreams. “Get your things on, Jane, and I’ll take you home. You can’t stay here, of course. We can decide later what it is best to do.” “I don’t see how I can break it off. He’s done so much for us. I can’t ever—pay him—” In Baldy’s pocket was the pink slip. He took it out and handed it to his sister. “Jane, I got the prize. Two thousand dollars.” “Baldy!” Her tone was incredu lous. He had no joy in the announce ment. The thing had ceased to mean freedom—it had ceased to mean— Edith. It meant only one thing at the moment, to free Jane from bond age. He gave Jane the letter and she read it. “It is your great oppor tunity.” “Yes.” He refused to discuss that aspect of it. “And it comes in the nick of time for you, old dear.” Their flight was a hurried one. A note for Lucy and one for Towne. A note for Edith! Jane was not well was the reason given their hostess. The note to Towne said more than that. And the note to Edith was—renunciation. Edith coming home to luncheon found the note in her room. All the morning she had been filled with glorious anticipation. Baldy would arrive in a few hours. Together they would walk down that trellised path to the fountain, they w’ould sit on the marble coping. She would trail her hand through the water. Further than that she would not let her imagination carry her. It was enough that she would see him in that magic place with his air of golden youth. But she was not to see him, for the note said: “Beloved—I make no excuse for calling you that because I say it always in my heart—Jane has made up her mind that she cannot marry your uncle. So we are leaving at once. “I can’t tell you what the thought of these two days with you meant to me. And now I must give them up. Perhaps I must give you up, I don’t know. I came with high hopes. I go away without any hope at all. But I love you.” (To be Continued) Rockport Rev. and Mrs. Dwight Nichols and daughter of Johnstown, Pa., called on friends in this vicinity last Tues day afternoon. Mr. and Mrs. Frank Holiday and daughter Helen of Detroit spent Sat urday in the home of Mr. and Mrs. Clarence Begg. Mr. and Mrs. W. E. Marshall and daughter Mary left Friday for an over Sunday visit with Mr. and Mrs. P. A. Morse of Centralia, Ill. Mr. and Mrs. Loren Van Meter and daughter Ann who have been in Columbus the past summer where Afi1 PICK 2 FROM THIS GROUP American Boy..............................8Mo. American Girl .....................8 Mo. Christian Herald........................ 6 Mo. Home Arts-Needlecraft....... 2 Yr. Household Magazine ..........2 Yr. McCall's Magazine......................1Yr. Modern Romances................1 Yr. Modem Screen...........................1Yr. Open Road (Boys)....................... 1 Yr. Pathfinder (Weekly)..............1 Yr. Parents' Magazine ..............6 Mo. 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Mrs. Levi Grismore and Mrs. Glen Miller, of Pandora, called on Mrs. Orlo Marshall one day last week. Mr. and Mrs. Glen Huber and children Jeanette and Buddy and Mrs. Mary Sylvester motored to Ft. Wayne, Sunday where they spent the day with Mr. and Mrs. Harvey Sylvester and family. Mrs. Sylves ter remained to assist in the care of the new grandson for a few weeks. Mr. and Mrs. Edgar Begg and Mrs. Clarence Begg joined in the Putnam County Grange tour that visited various homes in the county to see beautiful flower gardens and new homes, last Tuesday. There were about thirty cars in the car avan. Mrs. Orlo Marshall attended a luncheon meeting of the 1924 Past Matron’s club, O. E. S. at the Ma sonic Temple in Van Wert last Thursday, with Mrs. Ann Craig of Van Wert as hostess. Mr. Marshall and daughter Jean spent the day with friends in Delphos. Mr. and Mrs. Louis Maple of Chicago called at the Ed Begg and Walter Cupp homes in this vicinity Friday evening. Rev. and Mrs. Dwight Nichols and daughter of Johnstown, Pa., took dinner Monday evening with Mr. and Mrs. Edgar Begg and sons. Wade Eaton and son Ray of Lima and Mrs. Lou Eaton of Bluffton were Sunday afternoon guests of Mr. and Mrs. Orlo Marshall and daughter Jean. Mr. and Mrs. Alvin Miller of near Lima took dinner Sunday in the home of Mr. and Mrs. E. E. Freet. Their daughter, Helen Louise who had been a guest in the Freet home for several days returned home with them. The September meeting of the M. E. Missionary society will be held next Wednesday afternoon in the home of Mrs. Malcolm Ewing. Mr. and Mrs. Stewart Berryhill and family were among those who attended the street fair in Delphos the past week. Mr. and Mrs. Ortha Graham and sons Herbert and Howard and Mr. and Mrs. Allen Miller of Rt. 6 Lima were Sunday guests of Mr. and Mrs. Cloyd Myers. Mr. and Mrs. William Augsburger TOWN AND Whether you live in town or in the country here's a combination offer to please your reading tastes our paper and your favorite magazines at really huge savings. Make your selection and send us the coupon now! THIS NEWSPAPER, 1 YEAR, AND THREE FINE MAGAZINES- NEWSPAPER AND 3 MAGAZINES THIS OFFER IS POSITIVELY GUARANTEED Please allow four to six weeks for first copies of magazines to arrive. PAGE SEVEN of Bluffton were Sunday dinner guests of Mr. and Mrs. Herbert Mar shall and family. William, Beatrice and Richard Cupp spent Sunday afternoon with relatives near West Liberty. John Sylvester of Marion took supper Saturday evening with his mother, Mrs. Mary Sylvester and Mr. and Mrs. Glen Huber and family. Miss Elizabeth Campbell accom panied by her sister LaDonna, play ed a group of cello numbers for the Teachers’ Institute in Ottawa, Wed nesday afternoon. Rawson Mrs. Ella McClelland attended the New Stark school reunion, Friday. Mr. and Mrs. Guy Miller and sons Charles and Ronald and daughter Vera attended the Miller reunion at Avondale near Indian Lake, Sunday. LaVem Lather is spending several days at Lake Maughton in Michigan. Mr. and Mrs. Paul Friel returned to West Virginia after spending sev eral days with Mr. and Mrs. Carleton Robbins and family. Keith Hugus returned home Tuesday after a two-week visit with Paul Gar bison of Risingsun. Mr. and Mrs. Joe Brown of Pontiac, Mich., were Sunday guests of Mr. and Mrs. Harry Lather and family. Miss Laura Jones of Kansas and Mrs. Maud Sweet were Sunday din ner guests of Mr. and Mrs. R. S. Trask. Mr. and Mrs. Ransom Thomas and daughter Patty who formerly resided in Findlay moved to Rawson, Satur day. Mr. and Mrs. Roy Crozer and fam ily of Findlay called on Mr. and Mrs. George Crozier, Thursday afternoon. Mr. and Mrs. Carleton Robbins and family were Sunday dinner guests of Mrs. Ella McClelland. Mr. and Mrs) C. W. 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