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The Magnificent Amber sons o I
CGpwyhft by DeublMeday. Page & Company
A DARK-EYED LITTLE BEAUTY OF NINETEEN.
gspels.--Maor Amberson had made a fortune in 1i3 when other people
Sosing fortunes, and the magnificence of the Ambersons began then.
e Amberson laid out a 0o0-acre "development." with roads and statuary.
il p the center of a four-acre tract, on Amberson avenue, built for himself
sl asst magnificent mansion Midland City had ever seen. When the major's
,sltb r married young WiTbur Minafer the nelghbors predicted that as
rsL could never really love Wilbur all her love would be bestowed upon the
r . There is only one child, however. George Amberson Minafer, and
Seiigintng and his youthful accomplishments as a mischief maker are
ji-a eeplng with the most pessimistic predlctions.
gW sister stole it for me!" George
replied. eheerking the pony.
ste it off our clo'esllne an' gave
go get your hair cut!" said
raesger hotly. "Yah! I haven't
aq sister !"
-- ow you haven't at home."
responded. "I mean the one
Lre you to get down off that
Jamped to the ground, and
boy descended from the Rev.
hstl's gatepost-but he descend
te he gate. "I dare you out
- t gate," said Georgie.
! I dare you half way here.
tmee were luckless challenges.
umdgle immediately vaulted the
four minutes later Mrs.
h mth. hearing strange noises,
forth from a window; then
sad dashed for the pastor's
Mr. Malloch Smith. that grim
preacher, came to the front
aIn feund his visiting nephew
gaptly prepared by Master Min
.I serve as a principal figure in
of massacre. It was with
S hyicale difficulty that Mr.
Smasged to give his nephew a
to escape into the house, for
was hard and quick, and in
- atrs remarkably intense; but
Ilister. after a grotesque tuassle,
M separated from his opponent
stop that, you!" Georgie cried
1 sad wrenched himself away.
1u yo a don't know who I am!"
I do know!" the angered Mr.
SeMsrted. "I know who you are,
a disgrace to your mother !
-sthber ought to be ashamed of
. I allow-"
up about my mother belan'
S th, exasperated. was unable
dme the dialogue with dignity.
Nqht to be ashamed," he repeat
"A woman that lets a bhad boy
b eorge had reached his pony
ted. Before setting off at his
gallop be paused to Inter
_ o Rev. Mailoch Smith again.
I down your vest, you ole
t. you!" he shouted, distinctly.
down your vest. wipe of your
So to h--!"
precocity is less unusual. even
dYmra of the Rich, than most
people imagine. However, it
a new experience for the Rev.
8mith, and left him in a state
t. He at once wrote a
in George's mother, deseribing
Ime according to his nephew's
,and the note reached Mrs.
before Georgie did. When be
she read it to him sorrow
Madam: Your son has caused a
tstres, In my househoMld. He
r asprovoked attack upon a lttle
ef mlne who is visittug in my
Insulted him by caillg him
s and falsehoods, statlag that
M his family were In ail. He then
Ib make his pony kick him, and
child, who is only eleves years
Ar ytour son is much older and
eadeavored to avoid his adigal
withdraw quietly, he persed
the laciosure of my property sad
assaulted him. When I appeared
Ws msoe he deliberately called an
weeds to me. concluding with pro
Semh as "go to h-." which was
Mt eatly by myself but by my wtife
lbuy who lives next door. I trust
a state of undisciplined behavior
MI simedled for the sake of the rep
i propriety, itf nothing higher. ofe
llto which this unruly child be
had muttered varloa Inter
and as she concluded the
as ole liar!"
Syou mustn't say itar.'
is letter the truthr
" said Georgie, "how old am
look how he says rm older
a hIe eleven years old."
true." said Isabel. "He
Rat isn't some of it true,
felt hlmself to be in a dif
ere, and he was silent.
,did yon say what he says
emo tell him tto-- Did you
o to b-?'"
lookcid worriedt for a mo
SItsF: then he brightened. "LI'
,. mamnia: 'r:sndspa wouldn't
al. shoe on 'lat ole stor' teller.
. youll niustnt-"
S s n: aon,' of the .Amhersons
't have ::ny h:n to ,I), with
would they? li dwn't evenr
you, Ioe, 1'e. mtamui:n!?"
h~tan't ruvthin. t', do with it.'
.it h a:t' illn: n: nllie o thte'
?f:t iy Li ,t .eh, hto. and
;:; h 'y " ·;:':L :,-:, him to, and
S"cid:i.'1 t !v,.n let him."
S,* t.. i.,,re ta!.kin
ito L., :."t.: to the sid
tbhey \\ould, nmrun! a So whal
does it matter if I say somep'm' to al
him he didn't like? That kind o' sE
urge people. I don't see why you can't say si
my. anything you want to to 'em!" t
ave "No. Georgie. And you haven't an
swered me whether you said that
aid dreadful thing he says you did."
"Well-" said Georgle. "Anyway.
he said somep'm' to me that made me it
De." mad." And upon this point he offered
one no further details; he would not ex- i
plain to his mother that what had
tht made him "mad" was Mr. Smith's
hasty condemnation of herself: "Your
and mother ought to be ashamed," and t
ev* "A woman that lets a bad boy like
md- you-" Georgle did not even con
out- sider excusing hlmself by quoting h
these insolences. t
tre. Isabel stroked his head. "They a
were terrible words for you to use, t
ge5. dear. From his letter he doesn't seem t
the a very tactful person, but-" n
Kra. "He's just riffraff," said Georgie. S
laess "You mustn't say so," his mother
then gently agreed. "Where did you learn a
those bad words he speaks of? Where e
rit- did you hear anyone use them?" tl
rout "Well, I've heard 'em serreval c
hew places. I guess Uncle George Amber- d
son was the first I ever heard say 'em. a
e n Uncle George Amberson said 'em to t
papa once. Papa didn't like it, but
Mr. Uncle George was just laughin' at f
w a papa, an' then he said 'em while he (
or was laughin.'" p
In "That was wrong of him." she said, p
but almost instinctively he detected v
sle, the lack of conviction in her tone. It e
neat was Isabel's great. falling that what- c
nity. t , si rpt I
gala. ( t
o- Pull Down Your Vest, You Ole Billy.
aever a Amberson did seemed right to
uge her, especially it the Amberson was 1
my either her brother George or her son
SGeorge. "You must promise me," she
nth said feebly. "never to use those bad
and words agalin."
"I promise not to." he said prompt
t ly-and he whispered an immediate
rnatd codicil under his breath: "Unless I get i
r mad at somebody!" This atisfied a
Ina- code according to which, It his own
pro. sincere belief, he never told lies.
"That's a good boy," she said, and
rst he ran out to the yard, his punishment
e e As an Amberson he was already ai
a re. public character, and the story of his
adventure In the Rev. Malloch Smith's
-front yard became a town topic. Many
t- people glanced at him with great dt -
the taste thereafter, when they cbhanced
to encounter him, which meant noth
t n, m, to George, because he innocently
believed meost grown people to be ee I
essarily cross looking as a normal ph. -
tnomenon resulting froe the adeltv
state; and he failed to comprehend
that the distasteful glances had any
ersonal bearing upon himself. It he
had perceived such a bearing he waidM
"He Iave been atected only so far, pro
t rO 'bly as to mutter, "Rirfraf!" Po- 1
sibly he- would have shouted it; and
di-ertaly most people believed a story
itnt went round the town just after
says Mrs. Amberson's funeralt when Geo le
ge was eleven. Georgie was reported
tc have ditfered with the undertaker
I you atoot the seating of the family; his
innlgnunt voice had become audible:
mo- I"'ell, who is the most important per- 4
"Lis- son at my own grandmother's fu
uidn't neral?" And bIter he had projected
eller. his wtnd from the window of the fore '
motn moirners' carriage. as the under- I
take- happunwd to pass.
rsons "IIfr". t.:"
with T?·re ier, people-grown people
even i they stere-who expressed themselves
foiugirtiy: they did hope to live to see
h it." tle bky, thi'y said, when that boy
if th" wroulh get his com'-nphlnce! (They
.jni n sesl tint honest word, so much bet
their *er tim:t 'Le-'wris." and not until many
,and y.ars liter to tie more clumsily ren
d'reil Is "whli:it is conming to him.") i
L!king Se'tni'th "= wns bound to take himt:
ewt uaw ,dny, and they only wanted
(·llyti be tl ti'r Itut Georgie heard noth
Ii e. 'ing f hia. ::rnd the ye-riners for his
side takiniaie uwnni went unsatistied. while
rhtir ye'.gni:r grew the greater as the
happy tdF of fulfihlment was longer
what and lunge- postponed.
CHAPTER III. ml
Until he reached the age of twelve ml
lI Georgie's education as a domestic 0
I. process; tutors came to the house, its
7. and those citizens who yearned for his "
taking down often said: "Just wait till gS
s he has to go to public school: then st
i* he'll get it!" But at twelve Georgie w
was sent to a private school in the t
re town, and there came from this small fa
and Independent institution no report. w
or even rumor, of Georgie's getting at
n' to anything that he was thought to de- r
d o' serve; therefore the yearning still per
tsy sisted, though growing gaunt with th
feeding upon itself. at
t an- The yearners were still yearning t'
that when Georgie at sixteen was sent
away to a great "prep school." cc
rway "Now," they said brightly. "he'll get
e me it! He'll find himself among boys just t
fered as Important t. heir home town as he
is, and they :i knock the stuffing out
had of him when he puts on his airs with e
ith's them! Oh, but that would be worth di
something to see:" They were mis
and taken, it appeared, for when Georgie n
like returned a few months later he still m
on- seemed to have the same stumtng. He
oting had been deported by the authorities,
the offense being stated as "insolence
They and profanity;" In fact, he had given "I
use, the principal of the school instrue
seem tions almost identical with those for- w
merly objected to by the Rev. Malloch
le. Smith. 9
other But he had not got his come-upanee,
learn and those who counted upon it were
'h embittered by his appearance upon
the downtown streets driving a dog
Teval cart at a criminal speed, making pe
mber- destrians retreat from the crossings, a
'em. and behaving himself as if he "owned a
rn to the earth."
but When Mr. George Amberson Mina- i
n' at fer came home for the holidays at
le he Christmastide in his sophomore year,
probably no great change had taken
said, place inside him, but his exterior was
:ected visibly altered. Nothing about him
e. It encouraged any hope that he had re
what- celved his come-upance; on the con
trary, the yearners for that stroke of
justice must yearn even more itch
ingly: the gilded youth's manner had II
become polite, but his politeness was
of a kind which democratic people
found hard to bear.
Cards were out for a ball in his
honor, and this pageant of the ten- 1,
antry was held in the ballroom of the
Amberson mansion the night after his
arrival It was, as Mrs. Henry Frank
lin Foster said of Isabel's wedding, "a Y
big Amberson-style thing." All "old f
citizens" recognized as gentry received
cards, and of course so did their danc
ing descendants. t
brought from away, toin the Amberson m
manner, though this was really a gee
tre-perhaps one more of habit than m
of ostentation-for servitors of gayety I
as proficient as these importations
were nowadays to be found in the
town. It was the last of the great. c
long-remembered dances that "every
body talked about"-there were get
ting to be so many people in town that t
no later than the next year there were
too many for "everybody" to hear of
even such a ball as the Ambersons'. t
George, white-gloved, with a garde
nla in his buttonhole, stood with his
mother and the Major, embowered in
the big red-and-gold drawing room
Billy downstairs, to "receive" the guests;
and, standing thus together, the trio ,
offered a pleturesque example of good
Iht to looks persistent through three gene
Swas rations. The s3aor, his daughter and
r son his grandson were of a type all Am
" s berson : tall, straight and regular, with
e bad dark eyes, short noses, good ehils;
and the grandfather's expression, no
"mpt- less than the grandson's. was one of
ediate faintly amused condescension. There
I I get was a dlfference, however. The grand
led a son's unlined young face had nothing
B ow to offer exept this condesensioa;
L the grandfath~s had other things to
, and say. It was a handsome, worldly old
hment face, comnlos of it iimportance, but
perssive rather than arrogant, and
ady a dot without tokens of safferings with
of his stood. The Major's short white hair
mlth's was parted in the middle, Ilike his
Many grandson's, and in all be stood as
tt di briskly eqalipped to the fashialon as the
anced exqisite yon George.
noth Isabel, staing between her father
cently and her son, eaused a rague amaze
e e ment nla the mind of the latter. Her
ii phe- agte, just uoder forty, was for George
adult a thoUght of somethnlag as remote as
hebn bthe mooei of Jupiter: he could not
d any poslbly have conceived such an age
If he ever comaing to be his own: five years
weold was the limit of his thinking in time.
probl ve years ago he had been a child
Po- not yet fourteen; and those five years
: and were an abyss. Five years hence he
story would be almost twenty-four; what
after the girls he knew called "one of the
Geors older men." He could imagine himself
ported at twenty-forer, but beyond that his
rtaker powers staggered and refused the
r; his task. He saw little essential differ
idlble: ence between thirty-eight and eighty
it per- eight, and his mother was to him not
's fu- a woman but wholly a mother. Th,.
jected woman, Isabel. was a stranger to her
fore- son; as completely a stranter :s if
under- he had never In his life seen her or
heard her voice. Andl it v-S: toni.ht.
while he stood wth her. "r'cei:I."
people that he caught a dlisquieting glimr:lpse
'selves of this stron=ger whomn h:' tl.:;- t!-ect
to see ingly encountered for the tr't :v:.
t boy Youth cannot Imnzine rolal:ulc,
(They apart from youth. Tl'hat is why the,
h bet- roles of the heroes aind herones of
many plays are given by the mar.::eers t
y reo- the most you!hful actors they can finr
him.") ionn'og the competent. Bo:h middle
e him n aed people :,nd younz r ,:',;, e :.oy :1
ranted play about young love\-rs:; hut only
Inoth- middle-aged leople wtili titerute a pi:y
or his about middle--aed Ilv\-trs: young
while people will not com" to sese s:,.i :,
as the play. because for them mllI!, ll-:agedl'
longer lovers are a joke--not a :ery funny
one. Therefore, to bring both the
middle-aged people and the young T
people into his house the manager k
relve makes his romance as young as he M
estic con. Youth will indeed be served, and 9
use, its profound instinct is to be not only tl
r his scornfully amused but vaguely an- d
t till gered by middle-aged romance. So.
then standing beside his mother. George h
orgie was disturbed by a sudden impression.
the coming upon him out of nowhere. so ii
,mall far as he could detect, that her eyes Ii
port, were brilliant, that' she was graceful `
ting and youthful-in a word that she was c
ode- romantically lovely. t
I per- tie had one of those curious moments r
with that seem to have neither a cause nor i
any connection with actual things.
There was nothing In either her looks
nt or her manner to explain George's un-s
L comfortable feeling; and yet it in
ecreased, becoming suddenly a vague i
iut resentment, as if she had done some
s he thing unmotherly to him.
out The fantastic moment passed; and
with even while it lasted he was doing his
•orth duty. greeting two pretty girls with
mis- whom he had grown up. as people say,
orgie and warm!" assuring them that he re
still membered them very well-an assur
e ance whlt i might have surprised them
ites. "in any) sly hut Georgie Minafer!"
ence It seemed unnecessary. since he had
given spent many hours with themr no longer !
than the preceding August. The; had
for- with them their parents and an nncl,
illoch from out of town: and George negll
gently gave the parents the same as
surance he had given the daughters.,
but murmured another form of greet
w ion ing to the out-of-town uncle. whom
o he had never seen before. This per
son Georce absently took note of as'
sngs, a "queer-looking dock." Underlgradu
wned ates had not yet adopted "bird." It
was a period previous to that in which
Mina- a sophomore would have thought of
s at the Sharon girls' uncle as a "queer
looking bird." or, perhaps, a "funny
face bird." In George's time every hu
man male was to he defined at pleas
utre as a "duck:" hut "duck" was not
him :pokea with admiring affection, as in
its former feminine use to signify a
o 1 "dear"--on the contrary, "duck" im
plied the speaker's personal detach
charnent and humorous superiority. An
Indifferent amusement was what
Gs George felt when his mother, with
o a gentle emphasis. interrupted his in
terchange of courtesies with the
nieces to present him to the queer
" ten- looking duck, their uncle. This em
f the phasis of Isabel's. though slight, en
r his abled George to perceive that she con
k- sidered the queer-looking duck a per
Z. "a son of some importance; but It was
I "old far from enabling him to understand
wcscd why. The duck parted his thick and
danc- longish black hair on the side; his
tie was a forgetful-looking thing. and
were his coat, though it fitted a good
eron enough milddle-aced figure. no product
Sgee- of this year. or of last year either.
Sthan Observing only his anfashionable hair,
ayety his preoccupied tie and his old coat,
atlons the Olympic George set him down "s
a the a queer-looking duck, and having thus
great, completed his portrait took no inter
eery' est in him.
elt- The Sharon girls passed on, taking
n that the queer-looking duck with them, and
Swere George became pink with mortiica
ear of tion as his mother called his attention
as'. to a white-bearded guest waiting to
gadm shake his hand. This was George's
th his great-uncle, old John Minafer: It was
ed in old John's boast that in spite of his
room connection by marriage with the Am
ts; bersons he never had worn and never
O trio would wear a swaller-tall coat. Mem
Sgood ber of his family had exerted their
f Influence uselessly - at eighty-nine
er and conservative people seldom form rad
ii Am- Ical new habits, and old John wore his
r. with "Sunday suit" of black broadcoth to
is; the Amberson ball. The coat was
n, no square, with skirts to the knles; old
one of John called It a "Pripee Albert" and
Therewas well enough pleased with It, but
grand- his great-nephew considered It the
Othanext thing to an insult.
aon; The large room had filled, and so
S had the broad hall and the rooms on
hi old the other side of the hall. where there
Sbt were tables for whist. The imported
r hair *
oather *-4 ,
manCe "You Don't Remember Her Yet,
by the, Though of Cutrce You Will."
cr5 te arhespa wait"'! in ihb, hallroom on
ta find the th~d i-oor. but a locnl harp. 'ells.
niddle- .ibiun an! tlute were playing airs from
'ya : "TI.' Fencing Master" in the hall. ano.
only pciple were shouting over the music.
a pi:y hild John Minafer's voice was iot:der
yIung ;:nd mtor. penetrating :han any othtr,
•:hl : leCnustle he had been trouhletd with
I -:.;relt .!earnte-'s for twenty-five years. heard
funny his own -voice but faintly, and liked to
hi the he-ar it. "Smell o' flowers like this a
ing ways puts mne in mind o' funerals," he
ger kept telling his niece. Fanny Minafer. g;:
he n ho was with him; urnd he seemed to na
end get a great deal of satisfaction out of afi
nly this reminder. His tremulous yet stri- at
an- dent voice cut through the voluminous i'
So. sound that filled the room. and be was il
rge heard everywhere. wi
ion. Presently George's mortification was oh
s increasedl to hear this sawmill droning r
yes harshly from the midst of the thick
,ful .n.ing crowd: "Ain't the dan-cin' broke fri
was out yet. Fanny? Hoopla! Le's push sa:
througlh lanld go see the young women 4'h
nt, folks crack their heels! Start the cir-« w
nor 'us! Hoopsey-daisy!" Miss Fanny ar
s. Minafer, in charge of the lively vet- th
4tks, 'ran, wan almost as distressed as her ar
us- nephew George. but she did her duty
in- and managed to get old John through c:
gue the press and out to the broad stair- si
me- way. which numners of young people to
were now ascending to the hallroom. no
and George began to recover from the deg- is
his radation into which this relic of early
rth settler days had dragged him. What
restored him completely was a dark
eyed little beauty of nineteen. very
-ur knowing In lustrous blue and jet; at
hem sight of this dashing advent in the line
Pr!" of cuests before him George was fully
had an Amberson again.
ge "Remember you very well indeed!"
hail he said. his graciousness more earnest
ncl, than any he had heretofore displayed.
gl- Isnhabel heard him and Inughed.
as- "But you don't. George!" she said.
,rs. "You don't remember her hr y. though
-eet- of course you will.! Miss M. or:n is
horn from out of town, and I'm :Ifrail1 this
per- is the first time you've ever 4,,*-n her.
as You might take her tip to the d:nninglll
adn- I think you've pretty well done your
It duty here."
hich "Re d'lighted," George responded
t of formally, and offered his arm. not
deer- with a flourish, certainly. but with an
nny- Impressiveness inspired partly by the
hu- appearance of the person to whom he
eans offered it. partly by his being the hero
not of this fete. and partly by his youth
s in fulness-for when manners are new
ry a they are apt to he elaborate. The
im- little beauty intrusted her gloved fin
ach- gers to his coatsleeve, and they moved
An away together.
What As he conducted Miss Morgan
with through the hall toward the stairway
a in- they passed the open double doors of
the a cardroom, where some squadrons of C
seer- older people were preparing for ac
em- tion, and. leaning gracefully upon the
en- mantelpiece of this room, a tall man.
con- handsome, high-mannered and spar
per- kllngly point-device, held laughing
was converse with that queer-looking duck.
tand the Sharon girls' uncle. The tall gen
and tleman waved a gracious salutation to I
his George. and Miss M3organ's curiosity
and was stirred. "Who Is that?"
mOod- "I didn't catch his name when my
duct mother presented him to me." said
ther. George. "You mean the queer-looking
coat. "I mean the aristocratic duck."
u "s "That's my Uncle George. Honor-i
thus able George Amberson. I thought ev
nter- erybody knew him."
"He looks as though everybody
king ought to know him." she said. "It
and seems to run In your ft'mily."
ifica- If she had any sly intention it
skipped over George harmlessly.
g to "Well, of course, I suppose most ev
rge erybody does." he admiltted-"out in
this part of the country especially.
SResides Uncle George is in congress:
the family like to have someone
S "Well, It's sort of a good thing in i
one way. For instance. Uncle Sydney
Amberson and his wife, Aunt Amelia.
they haven't much of anything to do
with themselves-get bored to death
old around here. of course. Well, prob
and ably Uncle George'll have Uncle Syd
but ney appointed minister or ambassador
the or something like that, to Russia or
Italy or somewhere, and that'll make
It pleasant when any of the rest of
Sso the family go traveling. or things like
IS 0o that. I expect to do a good deal of1
e traveling myself when I get out of col
Sydney was an Amberson exag
gerated-more pompous than gracious;
tao portly, fluashed. starched to a shine.
hds stately jowl furnished with an Ed
ward the Seventh beard. Amella. like
wise full-bodied, showed glittering
blond hair exuberantly dressed; a
pinhk, fat face cold under a white-hot
tlara; a solid. cold bosom under a
white-hot necklace; great, cold. gloved
arms, and the rest of her beautifully
upholstered. As George ascended the
broad stairway they were precisely
the aunt and pancle he was most
pleased to point onut to a girl from out
of town, as his appurtenances in the
way of relatives. At sight of them
the grandeur of the Amberson family
was Instantly conspicuous as a perma
nent thing: it was Impossible to doubt
Sthat the Ambersons were intrenched.
in their nobility and riches, behind
polished and glittering harriers which,
were as sI!ld as they were brilliant,
and would last.
The hero, of the fete, with the dark
eyed little beauty upon his arm.
reached the top of the stcorad flight of
stairs; and here, beyrond a spacious
landing, where two prond-like darkles
tcnded a crystalline punch bowl. four
wihidwe urc'hway's in a rosevine lattic
Yet, framed gliding silhouettes of waltzers.
:lr:eady stm,1' l ly at it to, the e'nstan. s
of "I.:t Palorne:." O(! John 1initf-r.
1 on evi4hntly Surft'ltld. waVs in the act ,f'
cello. Ileaving these di'lighlts ecorted by a
from niddlm-:luaei mi1n If ('oltuntinliac'e "p
Sand liearance. The escort had a dry. lin*"I
:usinc.j fce ulmln wtlich. not rtrltm:ment:!!
o:der but as a matten r of curstes. h:re grew'
tth-r.a btisinss maln'sa sihort 1iiu,;et'chl; :!nl
with his thin neck showed an AdIimt' aplphl.
meard bhut not con-picuously, fr tihere \:was
ed to table part of this festival, and :alth,.hk
is 1- there were a dozen or more middle
- aged men present, not casually to tie
distinguished from him in genetral us
pect. he was probably the last person
in the big house at wv,-hotn :ta trang.r
iwould have -lancied tatie. It iail not L
eniter (George mind to tnentionl to
Miss Morgant th:t this :as his f:ther.
or to say anything - hatevtr about
Mr. Minafer s-hook his en's hand
I unobtrusively in psI,:in. I!
"Ili take Unale John !- an, .'" h -
said in a low voice. "T'hrn I t-ues
I'll gio on houn t.- im self--I't: not a
great handl .at parties. you know.
Good night. George."
he ;Gearge mturntiured at friendly enalugh
afer. ,Nal night w ithout ihniltlia:. I rcli- j
ad to narily he was not ashanwi-el of the- M I. tt
it of afers; he seldom thiought abou::t them .u:
stri- at all. for hae belong-e,. :ts tnoit Amoer
noun iatn children do. to the nothlar's tftna
wa ily-buit he was:a :nxios not t, lin tgr rth
with Miss Morgan in the vicitnity of
was old .ohn. ashonm he felt to e ai die- Wt
>ning gnu re. E
hick- Ieii rshid brusqtely l hrough liur the
Croke fringe af 'tlu'laling v outh aitho a aere ro
push iathiered in th. :irah-.-. a ,at 'hai fo -
a ien -ichancis to it:an,. only with girls whoi
e cir- would soon tie taketn t? heir ihandts. C
tinny ant llt hii;s Str:nt.-r l;tia! i, t iupon li It
ivet- ltoor. They e:ttcht the tile instantly. t at
Sher and teare awa:iy in thte altz.
duty (;orge li:danilced at!II. ::tul Mi<s Mor-I,,
'ough zan seemteal to tihat us l: rt of the tun- II
stair- sic'. the very clve it~.-If of "La P:lo- to
eople itn." (G;olrae la:ttllllnt- on-eio(t-h of
noom. nothing a-onspicuoat-. ali.,at hint t. alui
deg- ibi. dit. luiet. lihe a:- :tin unnoti - i-a
G Ofullyn n M
,edr a e d to Float.
layer. s flg inh an -
ough t t i r
an is t
t this o i
otllr l II
- t ete
ond wed a,
. not f
ay the \
>m he n
routh- \ p
at fin- S
ors of r
ons of George Dancee Weis and uiss Morgan
or ks- Seemed to Float t
Smanhe strange feelings within him: an exal- t
man. tation of soul. tender but indefinite.
hin and seemingly lowatedl in the upper
duck. part of his diaphragm.
I1 gen- The stopping of the music came
mion to upon him like the waking to an alarm
riosity clock; for Instantly six or seven of
the calculating persons about the en
n my trways hebore down upon Miss Mlorgan
S el to aecure dances. George Iliae to do
Sooking with one already established as a
belie. It seemedl.
htnev- "Old times starting all
over again! My Lord!"
ITO BE CONTINUED.,
nesely. FOLLOWED PATHS OF PEACE
)st ev- b- o
ot in Aborlgines of Tcxas Unlike the Fierere
lcally. Tribes of Other Sections of
ignes: the Country.
Stone implements found in ancient
woorkshops in Texas. antedating
ng in French. Spanish or American settlers, I
lydney prove that the original settlers of thisi
mel la. state -ere not like the. fierce tribes
to do j encountered in modern tunes by the
death white settlers.
prob' Little is known about the uboriginal 4
e Syd- population of Texas. which lies be.
sadodr tween the Pueblo ani mount butiers'
sia or area, but Dr. J. Waiter Fewkes. chief
make of the American bureau of ethnology.
aert of ided by Professor Peace of the Un i-d
slike versity of Texis. 'have located some i
So long-forgotten village sites. Their in
o vesttnintionst lead to the belief that the
original people of the middle part oft
exag" the state were hunters. while those of
i--ou-; the tastern part near the timber helt.
shine. were followers of agricultural pur
sin Ed- suits and were skilled in the manutolac- (
a. like tre oif pttery. They resembled the
tterint mound buildrn. The westernl part of I
eal; na he state was a more elevated and
dite-hot less arid plateau. Here the people re
er a semled the Pehlos of New Mexico.
gloved Siomz:e of the trihes are reported to
itifully have been cannibals. In the opening
ed thi of the eighteenth century Apaches.
Comaanches anti other savage tribes
most r"r'ntef over Ti-xls. fallowing the but
am out talo., or ralding across it into Melitco.
in the There seemis to have been constit I
them hostility with these Indians. in which
family many smaller tribes were extermi- I
'nched. Did More Than Cenm Back.
behind Jane's mamma left Jane home alone"
which for a few motne.ts while she ran
ullant. around to the store. Before gaolng she
toald Jane that she poslt:vely niunt not
let the cat in before she returned. Jane
assured her mother that she would do
as she was told anti not let him in.
dark- T-tn muinute later J:iue's mamma re
arm. turned and Jane sat where she left
icht of her, petting the cat.
acioua '-Jane," said mamman. "I th!hk I told
'arkies you not to let kitty in until I cane'
I. four bicmk."
lattick " tou hil. mammun." replied .Jane.
miltzers. " 'i' I aiialn't let hima in. tie olaetneaI
act of One for Mamma.
I lay a I 4nt my slnil ajaughtir into the
ee p Ia- froUt roam to do 5atune airst:ng. Nait
lintial l.a rina- lia-r :1rootntl. I sci taai 1ii qula tly
an'tm!! inti tIne rooti and found her t-itt inm
e griw ilt ivy the window aith l iar a ts:
Iaple. you know Satania titis a r for il
re wa, litanale to ta' li"t- qui-.y ra-:
ItiiitihJi n *I ta- niet Le sometthing like )ou.
INVUSYZD UNlMllN IIITERnATWINAL
,By RE\ P 1: P F'!TZ .\ATFR. . D..
Tea- h".- ,,f ::r.his!: it11 ,,1' In the Moody
B'ble In,":t!'te ,f 'hlcatE I
*Copyrrtihi. I !', 1'A .ern N.t r.panr T'niton)
LESSON FOR AUGUST 31
SELF CONTROL (Temperance).
IESS, 'N TI..XT -I,,-·e . ' `-21
(;I.' :N TI:XT E:..- nan that
str":. *t:. rr I rt m.(i', -' tenlmperate In
1 I 0h,, ',r "
AI 171 NA .t ' T.RIA:'iRA,--lt:mans 14:
1PI'I.MIAI' Ti' I ti' p " aaay from
r th w . , ,:, n ..:
Jf ~ '% T II,: T" ,[''' T!;." tv of a boy
who Y. !. ,, t str,'r;L: . .n
S rontr,.l t: . " t ,: 'i ,
It 1R -:.,n. t;a; 'r: g, th' li the IPS
.on 'r.:ithTtlte'. ý!.,Il -. ,I[('t this
S'rip Irre :o ,. ,r' ',ni,', ien. for
oirdinrarily un:"W,. Il Total tb.ti
fr,,t1 mr1 ,,\ :.,g !qtr shouhl
he the law if -v.,ry '!:r:- tinn's life,
huti it is not st tauliht ill this lScrlp
I. Daniel Tested (vr. 7-7).
i:niel,. thilI a tent.tlir yonith. was
tulrn from h.lninll tie's- a mill ll.' II can p
tire in iI f,.reign land tIo ie trained far
-e4rvice at thlie ry:ýal cullrt. In or
`ier to he of the :lir';,tt -erviee it was
Ine.c"ary thnit lite Ihe brought to love
the king nal It.: tion. :Ilt, he detached
fronl his itiiiWn p1.1ople and religion. To
iaconpllih thliis th,"y
1. Appoinitetd hililit aiily provis
lot, of the kinl's l ieat and i\-ne (v. 5i).
This was for a tn oflil Il,irlpelse: (1)
To gain the gt..I m\ill of IDaniel andl
his frietils. Sii'li reI'ognitlon would
ettenullrlge th1.1m to give Ihetseliveis up
to the kings' service. (2) To supply
themn with fttti dtleendtl suitable for
their physii'nl and mienta:l develop
nment. To l:partake if the food of'
fered was g'ainst I )aniel's religion.
His conicient'e ,otttld nhut allow him
to partake the r'lof. Ih.ul,tless the meat
and wine had connenetin with heathen
2. 'hange'l na:me (v. 7).
The lobjeEct ,If this was to obliterate
national aIndl rtelig:lous connectlon, and
to identify tliheln with the heathen
people. Danilel. which mr.eans "God
is my Judge." was changed to Belte*
shazzar, meaning BHel's prince; Haa
aninh, which meanu "The gift of Je
hovah." to Shadrach. meaning Illn
mined by the, sun god 1t1k ; Miahael.
which nlIens "Wh(o is as God," to
MeshlIth', ll:aning who is like the god
less Shech-,h i; Azari:h. which means
a "Jehovah is )lur help," to Abed-nego.
meaning the e.r\:nt of Nego. Behind
this change of n:l:lcie was the attempt
atl- f Satan to sltpe froll the minds of
te. these young men the n:~ame of the true
r God and to cause them to loae their
place of separation. 1
me II. Daniel Standing the Test 4v.
Though n captive in a foreign la
en- Daniel purposed In his heart that he
on would not defile himself with the
do king's meat and wine. Ills home train
Sngi was such that in this trying har
he had the decision of character to
bheyed the dictates of his conscience.
While unflinchingly loyal to God he
fid not lose his gentlemanly courtesy.
He requested to he tested ten hysI
In the food which the law of his God
allowed, agreeing to abide by the n
suits. Loyalty to God and eonscience
'E need not interfere with gentlemaaly
III. Daniel' Rlteward (vv. 15-21).
1. Physical health (v. 15). Geodly
and temperate living pays. The kiasa
meat and wine would have be.a wa y
palatable, but to have partaklen weeM
at have been a compromise with hsla er
l cience. The exerise of selfentrel
raw in this matter kept his conerne
his pare, and also improved his physical
the 2. Mental growth (vy. 17-20). 3.
was ten times the superior of hli as
be- 3. Socially iv. 19). He stood befole
r' the king. He not only was next to the
let king. but ecame president of the cl.
ry. lege of wise men. nod prime malateer
n- t the empire, continuing throug isr
me eral dynastles (v. 21).
In- 4. Spiritu:lily (v. 17). God 1
the realed to him Neluchadzneear'ase dsm
of and gave him visions stretchlnlg aere
of the history of the world.
it. The secret of faniers succema wan
ur- (1) conscientionsnes: (2) loyalty to
ac- God; (3) decision of character; (4)
the prayerfulness; (5) diligence: (6) ae
re e Silence.
S There is anotlher kind of silenge to
t, t cultivated ,esIdes that of the
log tongue as regards others. I aea
. silence as regards one's self, . . .
not permritting it to dwell overmaelh
uf on what we have heard or said. at
to Indulging in the phantasmagrila a
g picture thoughts. whether of the past
h r future. Be sure that you hae
al. made no small progress in the spirlt
ual life when you can control year
Imagination, so as to fix it on the
duty and occupation actually existingla,
one to the excluison of the crowd of
ran thoughts which art perpetually sweep
she Ing across the mind. No doubt yeO
not unnot prevent those' thollglts from
ne arising. illt y3-1 can 'ii prevent yourself
o hfrom dwellinu (en them: y'ole can put
in. them atsile. :.ou ruin checlk the self
re- romDlacency. tr irrit:ltion, which feed
left them, nlil you ? ill attnin that spirit
ef inwiarrI iltite. whic.h lraws .
old int'l clo"e, ini!te'rIo'urs., with (;led.-Jean
Iie i N (rou.
Ine. A Prayer.
ned 4, L,,rd. wne h,,,,ech thee that more
,t .1lhi!'i litly t1::n , er tht'i wonldst
t , lr titit tilirp l 11i tile' .'rit ,f grace
and til!ri;l '.,1! . :inl ri':ike, is who
the' pIroffo< tio ,, thy ti :iil;,.n I 1, i an
Not i ,,r vhy te, re'tiv ,. 1h ' ':It gifts of
fly th" rat':. .1ol w : v for grace
U :'or i o tiu:i . ') f:: I ;hn' purposae
:i for \\hih thiiU: :it- ,ratl., redeemed,
:' tnl leh'iid "-. t- a ietli eurselve
l as IiVI ai liw '.ir c'-. lurrindrina our
own will<. ;:\'y !I e' iv II indto accept
what thioi i.'.. : lelolnt. Through
lesis ('i:'ist our Lord. Amen