Willmar tribune. [volume], June 15, 1910, Image 3

About Willmar tribune. [volume] (Willmar, Minn.) 1895-1931

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She wondered what Jim and Toby
would say If they could see her now,
sitting like a queen in the midst of her
soft coverlets, with no need to raise
even a finger to wait upon herself.
"Ain't it the limit?" she sighed, and
with that Jim and Toby seemed to
drift farther away. She began to
see their life apart from hers. She
could picture Jim with his head in
his bands. She could hear his sharp
©rders to the men. He was always
Short with the others when anything
went wrong with her.
"I'll bet 'Muvver Jim's' in the
dumps." she murmured as a cloud
stole across the" flowerlike face then
the tired muscles relaxed, and she
ceased to rebel.
"Muvver Jim?" Douglas repeated,
feeling that he must recall her to a
knowledge of his presence.
"That's what I call him," Polly ex
plained, "but the fellows call him 'Big
Jim.' You might not think Jim could
be a good mother just to look at him.
"Lordy, no, cnile. He ain't nebber seed
none ob dem Vings.n
but he is, only sometimes you can't
tell him things you could a real
mother," she added, half sadly.
"And your real mother went away
When you were very young?"
The Game of War and
the Game of Chess
By SADIE MARSH
Copyright, 1910, by American Press
Association.
A contempt for death is the main
cause of the triumph of the diminutive
Japanese over the largest (territorially
and numerically) nation of Europe.
One of the Japanese leaders of the
insurrection against the emperor of
Japan in 1873 was Count Saigo. The
revolt was a failure, and toward the
close the count was shut up in his
fortress, the enemy slowly but surely
surrounding it and cutting off every
avenue of escape. At last it was evi
dent to the count that the capture of
his castle was but a question of time,
and be knew that when that time came
his bead would be stricken from his
body. Then the leader retired to the
living rooms with a party of his most
intimate associates and, calling for his
chessboard, sat down for a game.
He had played but a few minutes
when a messenger from one of his
lieutenants came hurrying in with the
news that the enemy had captured an
important outpost. The count simply
bowed his head to indicate that be had
heard the message and understood the
situation then he went on with the
game.
There were a number of lookers-on
criticising the play, rallying the play
ers when a bad move was made, chaff
ing one another, laughing, gossiping
evidently unmindful that an enemy
was closing in upon them, and when
the castle was captured many if not
all of them would be put to the sword.
As if the game stood for that more
important battle going on outside.
Count Saigo's king was gradually be
ing driven into a corner.
"Check!" said his adversary.
The count took one of his adver
sary's unimportant pieces, thus delay
ing temporarily the final catastrophe.
Another messenger came in and
said:
•The enemy have captured the round
tower of the west angle. This puts
him in possession of the angle, and be
Is now scaling the Inner wall with
ladders." _'
BMPPl
t%^p^*Tf}^^^Sff*,^^^^^^^^S
BIT MARGARET MAYO
CwtYRlGHT. IMS. BYPODD. MEAD AND COMPANY
1 (CONTINUED.]
There was a moment's pause. Polly
realized for the first time that she must
actually readjust herself to a new or
der of things. Her eyes again roved
about the room. It was a cheerful
place In which to be Imprisoned. Even
Polly could uot deny that. The broad
window at the back, with its white and
pink chintz curtains on the Inside and
its frame of ivy on the outside, spoke
of singing birds and sunshine all day
long. Everything from the white ceil
ing to the sweet smelling matting that
covered the floor was spotlessly clean.
The cane bottomed rocker near the
curved window seat with its pretty
pillows told of days when a convales
cent might look In comfort at the gar
den beneath. The couuterpane, with its
old fashioned rose pattern the little
white tidies on the back of each chair
and Mandy crooning beside the win
dow all helped to make a homelike pic
ture.
^T.
"No, she didn't go away."
"No?" There was a puzzled note in
the pastor's voice.
"She went out," Polly corrected.
"Out!" he echoed blankly.
"Yes finished—lights out."
"Oh, an accident." Douglas under
stood at last.
"I don't like to talk about it." Polly
raised herself on her elbow and
looked at him solemnly, as though
about to impart a bit of forbidden fam
ily history. It was this look in the
round eyes that had made Jim so often
ieclare that the kid knew everything
"Why, mother'd 'a' been ashamed if
she'd 'a' knowed how she wound up.
She was the best rider of her time—
everybody says so—but she cashed in
by fallin' off a skate what didn't have
no more ginger 'an a kitten. If you
can beat that!" She gazed at him
with her lips pressed tightly together,
evidently expecting some startling ex
pression of wonder.
"And your father?" Douglas asked
rather lamely, being at a loss for any
adequate comment upon a tragedy
which the child before him was too
desolate even to understand.
"Oh, dad's finish was all right. He
got his'n in a lions' cage where he
worked. There was nothin' slow about
his end." She looked up for his ap
proval.
"For de Lord's sake!" Mandy
groaned as the wonder of the child's
conversation grew upon her.
"An' now I'm down an' out," Polly
concluded, with a sigh.
"But this is nothing serious." said
the pastor, trying to cheer her.
"It's serious enough with a whole
show a-dependin' on you. Maybe you
don't know- how it feels to have to
knock off work."
"Oh, yes, I do," Douglas answered
quickly. "1 was ill a while ago myself.
I had to be in bed day after day, think
ing of dozens of things that 1 ought to
be doing."
"Was you ever floored?" Polly asked
with a touch of unbelief as she studied
the fine, healthy physique at the side
of her bed.
'Deed, he was, chile," Mandy cried,
feeling that her opportunity had now
arrived, "an' 1 had the wors' time
a-keepin' him in bed. He act jes' like
you did."
"Did he?" Polly was delighted to
find that the pastor had "nothin' on
her," as she would have put it.
"You ought to have heard him,"
continued Mandy, made eloquent by
Polly's show of interest. 'What will
dose poor folks do?' he kept a-sayin'.
'Jes* yo' lay where yo' is,' I tole him.
•Dem poor folks will be better off dan
dey would be a-comin' to yoah fu
neral.'
"Poor folks?" Polly questioned. "Do
you give money to folks? We are al
ways itchin' to get it away from 'em."
Before Douglas could think of words
with which to defend his disapproved
methods Mandy had continued eager
ly:
"An' den on Sunday, when he can't
go to church an' preach"— She got no
further. A sharp exclamation brought
both Mandy and Douglas to attention.
"Preach!" Polly almost shouted. She
looked at him with genuine alarm this
time.
"That will do, Mandy," Douglas com
manded, feeling an unwelcome drama
gathering about his head.
"Great Barnum and Bailey!" Polly
exclaimed, looking at him as though
he were the very las* thing in tbe
Again the count nodded his head po
litely to indicate that be had beard
and that the messenger might consider
himself dismissed. Then, dropping his
eyes again upon the chessboard, he
said quietly:
"Your move."
His adversary replied by taking one
of Count Saigo's castles.
So the game went on. In different
parts of the room groups were.amus
ing themselves, chatting, telling sto
ries, laughing. No one entering the
apartment without a knowledge of tbe
enemy's presence without would have
dreamed that these men were being
gradually closed in upon and that
within a short time the beads of most
of them would be rolling on the
ground.
"The enemy have scaled the outer
walls on the east and are pouring
down into the moat. They will soon
be on tbe inner wall, from which tbey
may drop into the court."
This was the report of the third mes
senger. The count gave him the same
imperturbable dismissal, this time with
his hand on bis knight while studying
whether to make a move with it.
"A check!" he said as he took up bis
piece and put it down in another
square.
"The enemy are dropping into the
court at the west angle," said another
messenger, "but our men are making
a good fight there."
The count's opponent moved out of
check, leaving his adversary in a worse
position than before. From this point
the count's king was being gradually
surrounded, and an expert at-chess
could see a sure defeat iu a given
number of moves. The game interest
ed the players and the lookers-on but,
judging from appearances, that dread
ful game outside was of no importance
to them. And yet they knew that in
a given number of successive moves
sure to come they would be at the
mercy of their enemies, and for rebels
there was no mercy.
"The enemy are climbing the walls
in every direction!" cried the last mes
senger who was destined to carry
news of the successes of the emperor's
troops.
A checkmate for Count Saigo was
sure to occur within two moves. They
were made and the game was finished.
Rising, the count said:
"Gentlemen, now it is time."*
Those about waited in deference to
world she had ever expected to see,
"Are you a sky pilot?"
"That's what he am, chile." Mandy
slipped the words In slyly, for she
knew that they were against the pas
tor's wishes, but she was unable to re
strain her mischievous impulse to sow'
the seeds of curiosity that would soon
bear fruit In the inquisitive mind of
the little invalid.
"Will you get on to me a-landin' into
a mixup like this?" She continued to
study the uncomfortable man at her
side. "I never thought I'd be a-talkin'
to one of you guys. What's your
name?"
"Douglas." He spoke shortly.
"Ain't you got no handle to it?"
"If you mean my Christian name, it's
John."
"Well, that sounds like a sky pilot
all right. But you don't look like 1
s'posed they did."
"Why not?"
"I always s'posed sky pilots was old.
an* grouchy-like. You're a'most as
good lookln' as our strong man."
"I done tole him he was too good
lookin' to be an unmarried parson."
Mandy chuckled, more and more
amused at the pastor's discomfort.
"Looks don't play a very Important
part in my work," Douglas answered
curtly. Mandy's confidential snickers
made him doubly anxious to get to a
less personal topic.
"Well, they count for a whole lot
with us." She nodded her head decid
edly. "How long you been showin' in
this town, anyhow?"
"About a year," Douglas answered,
with something of a sigh.
"A year!" she gasped. "In a burg
like this! You must have an awful lot
of laughs In your act to keep 'em
a-comin' that long." She was wise in
the ways of professional success.
"Not many, I'm afraid." He won
dered for the first time if this might
be the reason for his rather indifferent
success.
"Do you give them the same stuff, or
have you got a rep?"
"A rep?" he repeated in surprise.
"Sure, repertory, different acts—en
tries, some calls 'em. Uncle Toby's got
twenty-seven entries. It makes a heap
of difference in the big towns where
you have a run."
"Oh, I understand!" Douglas answer
ed in a tone of relief. "Well, I try to
say something new each Sunday."
"What kind of spiels do you give
'em?" she inquired, with growing in
terest.
"I try to help my people to get on
better terms with themselves and to
forget their week day troubles." He
had never had occasion to define'his ef
forts so minutely.
"Well, that's jes' the same as us,"
Polly told him, with an air of conde
scension, "only circuses draws more
people 'an churches."
"Yom*s does seem to be a more pop
ular form of entertainment." Douglas
answered dryly. He was beginning to
feel that there were many tricks in the
entertainment trade which he had not
mastered. And. after all, what was his
preaching but an effort at entertain
ment? If he failed to hold his congre
gation by what he was saying, his lis
teners grew drowsy and his sermon
fell short of its desired effect It was
true that his position and hers had
points of similarity. She was appar
ently successful. As for himself he
could not be sure. He knew he tried
very hard and that sometimes a tired
mother or a sad faced child looked up
at him with a smile that made tbe
service seem worth while.
Polly mistook the pastor's reverie for
envy, and her tender heart was quick
to find consolation for him.
"You ain't got. all the worst of it"
she said. "If we tried to play a dump
like this for six months, we'd starve to
death. You certainly must give 'em a
great show," she added, surveying him
with growing interest.
"It doesn't make much difference
about the show"— Douglas began,
but he was quickly interrupted.
"That's right it's jes' the same with
a circus. One year you give 'em the
rottenest kind of a thing, an' tbey eat
it up the next year you band 'em a
knockout, an' it's a frost. Is that
the way it is with a church show?"
"Much the same," Douglas admitted,
half amusedly, half regretfully. "Very
often when I work the hardest I seem
to do the least good."
"I guess our troubles is pretty mucb
alike," Polly nodded, with a motherly
"TTell, you take my tip. Don't you never
go in for ridin'.'*
air of condescension, "only there ain't
so mucb danger in your act"
"I'm*'not so sure about that" he
laughed.
"Well, you take my tip." She leaned
forward as though about to Impart
a very valuable bit of information.
"Don't you never go in for ridin'.
There ain't no act on earth so bard
their leader, who said to one standing
beside him:
"My sword bearer."
There was a pause in the conversa
tion. The jests, the laughter, every
sound within the room, ceased. With
out the yells of the enemy, breaking
through opposiug obstacles, were loud
and fierce. Not a man inside moved,
not a countenance displayed any agita
tion. All waited respectfully for their
leader to take such action as he deem
ed proper.
Then tbe sword bearer appeared, and
all understood what the count's action
as a ridin' act. The rest of the bunch
has got It easy alongside of us. Take
the fellows on the trapeze. They al
ways get their tackle up in jes' the
same place. Take the balancin' acts.
There ain't no difference In their lay
outs. Take any of 'em as depends' on
regular props, and' they ain't got much
chance a-goin' wrong. But, say, when
you have to do a ridin' act there ain't
never no two times alike. If your
horse is feelin' good, the ground is
stumbly If the ground ain't on the
blink, the horse Is wobbly. There's al
ways somethln' wrong somewheres,
and you ain't never knowln' how It's
goin' to end, especially when you got
to do a careful act like mine. There's
a girl, Eloise, in our bunch what does
a showy act on a horse what Barker
calls Barbarian. She goes on in my
place sometimes, and, say, them Rubes
applauds her as much as me. an' her
stunts is baby tricks alongside of mine.
It's enough to make you sick of art."
She shook her head dolefully, then sat
up with lenewed interest.
"You see, mine is careful balancin*
an' all that, an' you got to know your
horse an' your ground for that. Now,
you get wise to what I'm a-tellin' you
and don't you never go into anything
which depends on anything else."
"Thank you, Polly, I won't." Doug
las somehow felt that he was very
much Indebted to her.
"I seen a church show once," Polly
said suddenly.
"You did?" Douglas asked, with new
interest.
"Yes," she answeerd, closing her lips
and venturing no further comment
"Did you like it?" he questioned aft
er a pause.
"Couldn't make nothin' out of It I
don't care much for readin'."
"Oh, it isn't all reading," he correct
ed.
"Well, the guy I saw read all of
hls'n. He got the whole thing right
out of a book."
"Oh. that was only his text," laughed
Douglas.
"Text?"
"Yes. And later he tried to interpret
to his congrega"—
"Easy! Easy!" she interrupted.
"Come again with that, will you?"
"He told them the meaning of what
he read."
"Well, I don't know what he told
'em, but it didn't mean anything to me.
But maybe your show is better'n his
was," she added, trying to pacify him.
Douglas was undecided whether to
feel amused or grateful for Polly's
ever increasing sympathy. Before he
could trust his twitching lips to an
swer she had put another question to
him.
"Are you goin' to do a stunt while I
am here?"
"I preach every Sunday, if that's
what you mean. I preach this morn
ing."
"Is this Sunday?" she asked, sitting
up with renewed energy and looking
about the room as though everything
had changed color.
"Yes."
"And you got a matinee?' she ex
claimed incredulously.
"We have services," he corrected,
gently.
"We rest up on Sundays," she said
In a tone of deep commiseration.
"Oh, I see," he answered, feeling it
no time to enter upon another discus
sion as to the comparative advantages
of their two professions.
"What are you goin* to spiel about
today?'
"About Ruth and Naomi."
"Ruth and who?"
"Naomi," he repeated.
"Naomi," she echoed, tilting her head
from side to side as she listened to
the soft cadences of the word. "I nev
er heard that name before* It 'ud look
awful swell on a billboard, wouldn't
it?"
"It's a Bible name, honey," Mandy
said, eager to get into the conversa
tion. "Dar's a buful picture bout her.
I seed it."
"I like to look at pictures," Polly an
swered tentatively. Mandy crossed the
room to fetch the large Bible with its
steel engravings.
would be. In a low tone he instructed
the sword bearer to do the work which,
unless done by bis own order, would
surely be done by that of the leaders
of the victorious troops. The count
kneeled, clasping bis hands behind bis
back. Every one understood what was
about to be done, but there was no
protest no suggestion that such a
course might be avoidable.
Then the sword bearer swung his
weapon in the air, it descended, and
Count Saigo's head rolled on the floor.
"We got a girl named Ruth in our
'leap of death' stunt. Some of the
folks is kinder down on *er, but I
ain't."
She might have told Douglas more
of her forlorn little friend, but just
then Mandy came to the bed hugging
a large, old fashioned Bible, and Doug
las helped to place the ponderous book
before the invalid.
"See, honey, dar dey is," the old wo
man said, pointing to the picture of
Ruth and Naomi.
"Them's crackerjacks, ain't they?"
Polly gasped, and her eyes shone with
wonder. "Which one's Ruth?"
"Dis one," said Mandy, pointing with
her thumb.
"Why, they're dressed just like our
chariot drivers. What does it say about
•emr
"You can read it for yourself," Doug
las answered gently. There was some
thing pathetic in the eagerness of the
starved little mind.
"Well, I ain't much on readin'—out
loud," she faltered, growing suddenly
conscious of her deficiencies. "Read it
for me, will you?"
"Certainly." And he drew his chair
nearer to the bed. One strong hand
supported the other half of the Bible
and his head was very near to hers as
his deep, full voice pronounced the sol
emn words in which Ruth pleaded so
many years before.
"'Entreat me not to leave thee,'" he
read, "4or to return from following
after thee, for whither thou goest I will
go, and where thou lodgest I will lodge.
Thy people shall be my people and thy
God my God.'"
He stopped to ponder over the poetry
of the lines.
"Kind of pretty, ain't it?" Polly said
softly. She felt awkward and con
strained and a little overawed.
"There are far more beautiful things
than that," Douglas assured her en
thusiastically as the echo of many
such rang in his ears.
"There are?" And her eyes opened
wide with wonder.
"Yes, Indeed," he replied, pitying
more and more the starvation of mind
and longing to bring to it floods of
light and enrichment.
"I guess I'd like to hear you spiel,"
and she fell to studying him solemly.
"You would?" he asked eagerly.
"ENTREAT ME NOT TO LEAVE THEE,n HE BEAD.
~WW
"Is there any more to that story?"
she asked, ignoring his question.
"Yes, indeed."
"Would you read me a little more?'
She was very humble now.
"'Where thou diest will I die, and
there will I be burled. The Lord do so
to me, and more also, if aught but
death part me and thee.'"
Their eyes met. There was a long
pause. Suddenly the sharp, sweet
notes of the church bell brought John
Douglas to his feet with a start of
surprise.
"Have you got to go?' Polly asked
regretfully.
"Yes, I must, but I'll read the rest
from the church. Open the window,
Mandy!" And he passed out of the
door and quickly down the stairs.
CHAPTER VI.
W»HErsd
N John Douglas' uncle of
fere to educate his nephew
fo the ministry the boy was
les enthusiastic than his
mother. He did not remonstrate, how
ever, for it had been the custom of
generations for at least one son of each
Douglas family to preach the gospel
of Calvinism, and his father's career
as an architect and landscape gardener
had not left him much capital.
Douglas senior had been recognized
as an artist by the few who under
stood his talents, but there is small
demand for the builder of picturesque
houses in the little business towns of
the middle west, and at last he passed
away, leaving his son only the burden
of his financial failure and an ardent
desire to succeed at the profession in
which his father had fared so badly.
The hopeless, defeated look on the de
parted man's face had always haunted
the boy, who was artist enough to feel
his father's genius intuitively and
YOUP
Use Home Products
PRIMP and FINNEY'S BEST FLOURS
Unexcelled as to quality
human enough to resent the Injustice
of his fate.
Douglas' mother had suffered 60
much because of the impractical ef
forts of her husband that she discour
aged the early tendencies of the son
toward drawing and mathematics and
tried to direct bis thoughts toward
creeds and Bible history. When he
went away for his collegiate course
she Was less in touch with him and he
Was able to steal time from his ath
letics to devote to his art He spent
his vacations in a neighboring city be
fore a drawing board in the office of a
distinguished architect, his father's
friend.
Douglas was not a brilliant divinity
student, and he was relieved at last
when he received his degree in theol
ogy and found himself appointed to a
small church in the middle west
His step was very bright the morning
be first went up the path that led to
his new home. His artistic sense was
charmed by the picturesque approach
to the church and parsonage. The
view toward the tree encircled spire
was unobstructed, for the church had
been built on the outskirts of the town
to allow for a growth that had not
materialized. He threw up his head
and gazed at the blue hills, with their
background of soft, slow -moving
clouds. The smell of the fresh''earth,
the bursting of the buds, the forming
of new life, set him thrilling with a
Joy that was very near to pain.
He stopped halfway* up the path
and considered the advantages of a
new front to the narrow eaved cot
tage, and when his foot touched the
first step of the vine covered porch he
was far more concerned about a new
portico than with any thought of his
first sermon.
His speculations were abruptly cut
short by Mandy, who bustled out of
the door with a wide smile of welcome
on her black face and an unmistakable
ambition to take him immediately un
der her motherly wing. She was much
concerned because the church people
had not met the new pastor at the sta
tion and brought him to the house.
Upon learning that Douglas had pur
posely avoided their escort, preferring
to come to his new home the first time
alone, she made up her mind that she
was going to like him.
Mandy had long been a fixture in the
parsonage. She and her worse half,
Hasty Jones, had come to know and
discuss the weaknesses of the many
clergymen who had come and gone,
the deacons and the congregation, both
Individually and collectively. She con
fided to Hasty that she didn't "blame
de new parson fer not wantin' to mix
up wid dat ar crowd."
In the study that night when she
and Hasty helped Douglas to unpack
his many boxes of books, they were as
eager as children about the drawings
and pictures which he showed them.
His mind had gone beyond the parson
age front now, and he described to
them the advantage of adding an ex
tra ten feet to the church spire.
Mandy felt herself almost an artist
when she and Hasty bade the pastor
good night, for she was still quivering
from the contagion of Douglas' enthu
siasm. Here, at last, was a master
who could do something besides find
fault with her. ".
"I jes' wan* to be on de groun' de
firs' time dat Mars Douglas and dat
ere Deacon Strong clinches," she said
to Hasty as they locked the doors and
turned out the hall light "Did you
done see his jaw?" she whispered.
"He look laughin'. enough now, but
Jes' you wait till he done set dat 'ere
Jaw o' his'n, and dar ain't nobody
what's goin' ter unsot It"
"Maybe dar ain't goin* ter be no
dinchin'," said Hasty, hoping for Man
dy's assurance to the contrary.
"What?" shrieked Mandy. "Wld dat
•ere sneakin' Widow Wllloughby al
ready a-tellln' de deacons how ter start
de new parson a-goin' proper?*
"Now, why youse always a-pickln'
on to dat 'ere widow?' asked Hasty, al
ready enjoying the explosion which he
knew his defense of the widow was
sure to excite.
"I don' like no woman what's alius
braggin' 'bout her clean floors," an
swered Mandy shortly. She turned
out the last light and tiptoed upstairs,
trying not to disturb the pastor.
John Douglas was busy already with
pencil and paper, making notes of the
plans for the church and parsonage,
which he would perfect later on.
Alas, for Douglas' day dreams! It was
not many weeks before he understood
with a heavy heart that the deacons
were far too dull and uninspired to
share his faith in beauty as an aid to
man's spiritual uplift
"We think we've done pretty well by
this church," said Deacon Strong, who
was the business head, the political
boss and the moral mentor of the
small town's affairs. "Just you worry
along with the preachin', young man,
and we'll attend to the buyln' and
bulldin' operations."
Douglas' mind was too active to con
tent Itself wholly with the writing of
sermons and the routine of formal pas
toral calls. He was a keen humani
tarian, so little, by litle he came to
be interested in the heart stories and
disappointments of many of the vil
lage unfortunates, some of whom were
outside his congregation. 'The men
tally sick, the despondent, who needed
words of hope and courage more than
dry talks on theology, found in him
an ever ready friend and adviser, and
these came to love and depend on
him. But he was never popular with
the creed bound element of the
church.
Mandy had her wish about being on
the spot the first time that the parson's
Jaw squared itself at Deacon Strong.
The deacon had called at the parson
age to demand that Douglas put a stop
to the boys playing baseball in the ad
Joining lot on Sunday. Douglas had
been unable to see the deacon's point
of view. He declared that baseball
dealer prefers to sell the HOME FLOUR
Use the flour that paysthe home
taxes and employs the home labor
was a healthy and harmless form of
exercise, that the air was meant to be
breathed and that the boys who en
joyed the game on Sunday were prin
cipally those who were kept indoors
by work on other days. The close of
the Interview was unsatisfactory both
to Douglas and the deacon.
"Dey kinder made me cold an*
prickly all up an' down de back,"
Mandy said later when she described
their talk to Hasty. "Dat 'ere deacon
don' know nufflh 'bout gittin' roun'
de parson." She tossed her head with
a feeling of superiority. She knew the
way. Make him forget himself with a
laugh. Excite his sympathy with some
village underdog.
CHAPTER VII.'
ANDY had secretly enjoyed the
commotion caused by the lit
tle circus rider being left in
the parsonage, at first be
cause of her inborn love of mischief
and later because Polly had become
second in her heart only to the pastor.
She went about her work, crooning
softly during the days of Polly's con
valescence. The deep, steady voice of
the pastor reading aloud in the pretty
window overhead was company. She
would often climb the stairs to tell
them some bit of village gossip and
leave them laughing at a quaint com
ment about some Inquisitive sister of
the church who had happened to incur
her displeasure.
As spring came on Douglas carried
Polly down to the sunlit garden be
neath the window, and Mandy flut
tered about arranging the cushions
with motherly solicitude.
More days slipped by and Polly began
to creep through the little, soft leaved
trees at the back of the church and to
look for the deep, blue, sweet scented
violets. When she was able Douglas
took her with him to visit some of the
outlying houses of the poor. Her
woman's Instinct was quick to per
ceive many small needs in their lives
that he had overlooked and to suggest
simple. Inexpensive Joys that made
them her devoted friends.
Their evenings were divided between
making plans for these unfortunates
and reading aloud from the Bible or
other books.
When.Polly gained courage, Douglas
sometimes persuaded her to read to
him, and the little corrections that he
made at these times soon became
noticeable in her manner of speech.
She was so eager, so starved! for
knowledge that she drank it as fast
as he could give it. It was during
their talks about grammar that Mandy
generally fell asleep in her rocker, her
unfinished sewing still in her lap.
When a letter came from Jim and
Toby It was always shared equally by
Mandy and Hasty, Polly and the pas
tor. But at last a letter came from
Jim only, and Douglas, who was asked
to read It, faltered and stopped after
the first few words.
"It's no use my tryin' to keep it from
you any longer, Poll," the letter began.
"We ain't got Toby with us no more.
He didn't.have no accident It wasn't
that He just seemed kinder sick an'
ailln* like ever since the night we had
to leave you behind. I used to get him
warm drinks an' things an 'try to
pull him through, but he was always
a-chillin' and a'achin'. If it wasn't one
thing it was another. I done all I
knowed you'd 'a' wanted me to, an'
the rest of the folks was mighty white
to him too. I guess they kinder felt
how lonesome he was. He couldn't get
no more laughs in the show, so Barker
had to put on another man with him.
That kinder hurt him, too, I s'pose,
an' showed him the way that things
was a-goin'. It was just after that he
wrote the parson a-tellln' him to never
let you come back. He seemed to 'a'
got an idee in his head that you was
happier where you was. He wouldn't
let me tell you 'bout his feelin' rocky,
'cause he thought St. might mebbe
As spring came on Douglas carried Polly
down to the sunlit garden.
make you come back. 'She's duTrunt
from us,' he was alius a-sayln'. 'I
never spected to keep *er.*
Douglas stopped. Polly was waiting,
her face white and drawn. He had
not told her of Toby's letter because
with it had come, a request to "say
nothin* ter the kid."
He felt that Polly was controlling
herself with an effort until he should
reach the end of Jim's letter, so he
hurried on.
"The parson's promise didn't get to
him none too quick," he read. "That
seemed to be what he was waitin' for.
He give up the night it come, an' 1
got him a little room In a hotel after
the show an' let one of the other fel
lers get the stuff out o* town, so's. 1
could stay with him up to the finish.
It come round mornta'. There wasn't
Bee Intelligence.
Darwin relates a curious instance of
Intelligence on the part of bees that
were carried to Barbados and the
Western islands. They worked furi
ously for the first year, then suddenly
ceased to lay up honey, living a life
of drunken ease. They had discovered
that the materials for honey were to
be had every day in the year and that
to lay up stores of which they were
robbed was folly.
Boiled Alligator,
BoUed alligator flesh has a taste
Tory much like that of real It is
much eaten in TadHa.«vv-«... ... ---.
much to it—he just seemed tired an*
peaceful-like. Tin glad he -wrote what
he did,' be said, meanln' the panotv
'She knows, she alius knows,' be whis- ^Igj
pered, meanln' you, Poll, an' then be V^f
was on his way. He'd already give "*k
me what was saved up for you, an*
I'm sendln' It along with this"— JUS
blue money order for $250 .had flut
tered from the envelope when Douglas
opened It
"I got everything ready afore 1 went*?jf
en the next day, an' 1 went up anfv^
saw the little spot on the hill where
they was* goin' to stow him. It looked
kinder nice, an' the digger's .wife said
•he'd put some flowers on it now an'
then. It was you what made me think
that, Poll, 'cause It seemed to ine .JsQ--j
what you would 'a* done. 3Tou was al-"rj^
lus so daffy about flowers, you an*-v^sH
him.
"I guess this letter's too long for ma
to be a-sayin' much about the show, -^j"3
but the 'leap-a-death' girl got her'n
hist week. She wasn't strong enough
for the job nohow. I done what 1
could for her outside the show, 'cause
I knowed how you was alius a-feelln'
*bout her. I guess the 'leap-a-death's'
husband Is goin' to jump his job soon,
if he gets enough saved up, 'causehlm
an' Barker can't bit it off no more.
We got a good deal o' trouble among
the animals too. None o' the snakes
Is sheddin* like they ought to, an'
Jumbo's a-carryin* a sixteen foot band
age around.that trunk o* his'n 'cause
he got too fresh with Trlxy's grub the
other night, an' the new giraffe's got
the croup in that seven foot neck o*
his'n. 1 guess you'll think 1 got the pip
for fair this time, so I'll Just get on to
myself now an' cut this short I'll be
wrltin' you ag'In when we hit Morgan
town.
"YOUR OLD MUVVER JIM."
Douglas laid the letter gently on tbe
table, bis band still resting upon it He
looked helplessly at the little, shrunk
en figure in the opposite chair. Polly
had made no sound, but her head had
slipped lower and lower, and she now
sat very quietly with her face in her
hands. She had been taught by Toby
and Jim never to whimper.
"What a plucky lot they are!"
thought Douglas as he considered these
three lonely souls, each accepting
whatever fate brought with no rebel
lion or even surprise. It was a strange
world of stoics in which these chil
dren of the amusement arena fought
and lost They came, and went like
phantoms, with as little consciousness
of their own best interests as of the
great moving powers of the world
about them. They felt no throes of
envy, no bitterness. They loved and
worked and "went their way."
For once the pastor was powerless
In the presence of grief. Both he and
Mandy left the room quietly, feeling
that Polly wished to be spared the
outburst of tears that a sympathetic
word might bring upon her. They al
lowed her to remain alone for a time
then Mandy entered softly with a ten
der good night and Douglas followed
her cheerily as though nothing at all
had happened.
It was many weeks before Polly
again became a companion to Douglas
and Mandy, but they did not Intrude
upon her grief. They waited patiently,
for the time when youth should again
assert itself and bring back their
laughing mate to them.
[TO BE COHTINUCD.]
Moscow Newsdealers.
People who sell newspapers in the
streets of Moscow are compelled to
appear in uniform.
Kandiyohi County
PLATS
We have a limited supply of loose
leaf plats of the same used in the
Illustrated History of Kandiyohi
County. Until disposedof we will send
copies of the same postpaid to any ad
dress at the following prices:
COUNTY MAP, two pages, in five CsV»
colors 9fC
TOWNSHIP MAPS, fun page, colored by
school districts, showing farms, roads,
schools, churches, etc., any township 4 E A
of the county, each. 29C
VILLAGE PLATS, of Raymond, Atwater,
Spicer, Kandiyohi, New London, Pen- 9Zm
nock and Priam, each &9G
GREEN LAKE SHORE PLATS, No 1, con
taining Green Lake Beach, Park Addition,
Echo Beach, and Northwood Beach and No.
2. containing Crescent Beach, Haverly's Ad
dition, Lake Front and Summit ad- %Zm
ditions, each awC
MISCELLANEOUS PLATS, Monongalia
historical chart, Original Kandiyohi faistor
ical chart, Geological map of county, *E*
WILLMAR CITY, City and ward Cft*
maps, per set
Tribune Printing Co.
Wlllmar Minn.
The Automatio
DREW Carrier
A necessity in well regulated
barns. Saves time ana money.
Dumps In yard or on wagon.
Turns ourres and switohea.
Manure dumped 100 feet from bam ifdesired.
Don't waste your time and efforts with a
wheelbarrow.
A boy isyearsold ban easily olean bam.
Send me a diagram of yourbam, and I will
be glad to furnish estimate of cost, ete.
ANTON JAOOMON. New Lenses, Minn.
•A&Sioro5S!,oM
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