Newspaper Page Text
By Eleanor H. Porter
CoprrizMbr IUuh U. forwr
PREFACE! "Mary Marie" explains her
apparent "double personality" and Just
why she 1b a "cross-current and a contra
diction;" slip also tells her reasons for
writing the diary later to be a novel. The
diary Is commenced at Andersonvllle.
CHAPTKR I. Mary begins with Nurse
Sarah's account of her (Mary's) birth,
which seemingly Interested her father,
who is a famous astronomer, less than a
new star which was discovered the same
night. Her name is a compromise, her
mother wanted to call her Viola and her
father insisting on Abigail Jane. The
child quickly learned that her home was
Jn pome way different from those of her
email friends, and was puzzled thereat.
Nurse Sarah tells her of her mother's ar
rival at Andersonvllle as a bride and how
astonished they all were at the sight of
the dainty eighteen-year old girl whom
the sedate professor had chosen for a
CHAPTKR II. Continuing her story,
Nurso Sarah makes it plain why the
household seemed a strange one to the
ihild and howhor father and mother
drifted apart through misunderstanding,
each too proud to in any way attempt to
smooth over the situation.
CHAPTKR Ill.-Mary tells of the time
spent "out west" where the "perfectly
all right and gentoel and respectable"
divorce was being arranged for, and her
mother's (to her) unacountable beiiavior,
By the court's decree the child is to spend
six months of the year with her mother
and six months with her father. Boston
Is Mother's home, and she and Mary
leave Andersonvllle for that city to spend
the first six months. ,
CHAPTER IV. At Boston Mary be-
wtmcB "Marie. " She is ileliulltprl with hr I
new home, so different from the gloomy
house at Andersonvllle. The number of
gentlemen who call on her mother leads
her to speculate on the possibility of a
new father. She classes the callers as
"prospective suitors," finally deciding the ,
choice Is to be between "the violinist" ;
and a Mr. Harlow. A conversation she
overhears between her mother and Mr. ,
Harlow convinces her that It will not be '
that gentleman, and "to violinist" seems j
to be the likely man. Mrs. Anderson re-
ceives a letter from "Aunt Abigail Ander- 1
Bon, her former husband's sister, whi is
keeping house for him, reminding her that ;
"Mary" Is expected at Andersonvllle for
the six months she Is to spend with her
father. Her mother Is distressed, but
to" Andnvinee' an'1 "Marie" depart8J
, r I
Ana muts wnut tney un wem r-
,.., . . ,i, i,
trying to do to make her forget.
vLJl -i h Kf t..f
' . '
somebody sends flowers r books or
candy, or invites her somewhere, or
takps her to ride or to the theater,
or comes to see her, so that Mother
is in Just one whirl of good times from
morning till night. Why, she'd Just
have to forget. She doesn't have any
time to remember. I think she Is for
getting, too. Oh, of course she gets
tired, and sometimes rainy days or
twilights I find her on the sofa Th her '
room not reading, or anything, and her
face looks 'most us It used to some
times ufter ll.ey'd been having one of
their incompatibility times. But I
don't find her that way very often,
and it doesn't last lov;;. So I really
think she Is forfeit in-:.
About the proeiie -t o suitors I
Mew York Worl;
1922 AND 1923
Practically a Daily at the Price of a
- Weekly. No other Newspaper in
the world gives so much at
. so low a price.
The next few years will be marked
by important and .historical changes j
in the life of the United States deep- I
ly interesting to every citizen. The '
Thric-a-Week World which is the lat I
est example of tabloid journalism in !
America win Kive you an uie news oi ; coul(, ,JP she co,(1 have fiP(n nie
SSSL Srice. "SSdS, eVwl ! "l' "
from Europe for a long time to come ; pll . Jn t-
will be of overwhelming interest and 1 wycT even thought of hearing
it. It wjll keep you as thoroughly in- j anything I hadn't ought, and I was
we are deeply and vitally concerned Just going to get down and speak to
in it. The Thrice-a-Week World will Mother . myself, when Mr. Harlow
furnish you an accurate and compre- crossed the room and sat down on the
hensive report of everything that S()fa beside her.
happens. , j ..Dreamlng) Madge?" he said, low
THE THRICE-A-WE5EK WORLD'S and soft, his soulful eyes Just devour
regular subscription price is only jng her lovely face. (I read that, too,
$1.00 Per year, and this pays for 156 ' ln a b(H)lt last week. I Just loved it !)
papers. We offer this uncalled j Mother started and flushed up.
newspaper and the NEWS and CITI- .rr rlow ... ,1P L,,,
ZEN together for one year for $2.85 , h.- Mr: Harlow "e J
in the state and $3.35 out of the state. I (Mother always rails him Mr.
The regular subscription price of "That's another thing. He always
the two tinners is S3.n0 in tho atata calls her "Madee." you know.) "How
and $3.50 out of the state.
Borrowing trouble is the easiest
thing in the world. There are bo
many who want to get rid of it.
The" world is full of good people,
but many are unable to tell us from
the common herd.
Discarding the petticoat would not
do the men a bit of good. Govern
ment by any other name would be
just as bad.
If you would preserve harmony in
the home, never .tell your troubles te
your wife when she is at the bottom
,J found that "prospective suitor" In a
II story a week ago. and I lust Io'vp it.
It means you prol
' Jf ' - - ...
ibably want td
marry ner, you Know, i use it all the
time now m my mind when I'm
thinking about those gentlemen that
come here (the unmarried ones). 1
forgot and used it out loud one day
to Aunt Huttle; but I shan't again,
She said, "Mercy!" and threw up her
hands and looked over to f.rahdpa the
way she does when I've said something
sne tninKs is perrectiy awrui. i couldn't without showing them that
But I was firm and dignified but I. had been there. So I thought it was
very polite and pleasant and I said better to stay Just where I was. They
that I didn't see why she should act could set me, anyway, if they'd Just
like thut, for of course they were pro- look in the mirror. So I didn't feel
spective suitors, the unmarried ones, that I was sneaking. And I stayed,
anyway, and even some of the married Then Mr. Harlow spoke again. His
ones, maybe, like Mr. Harlow, for of eyes grew even more soulful and de
course they could get divorces, and vourlng. I could see them in the mlr-
"Marle!" Interrupter! Aunt Hattle ror.
then, before I could say another word, i "Madge. It seems so stramre that we
' or go on to explain that of course
Mother couldn t be expected to stay
unmarried always, though I was very
sure she wouldn't get married again For we shall be happy, Madge. You .sires me to say that he trusts you are
until it was perfectly proper and gen- know I'm to be free, too, soon, dear, 1 bearing in mind the fact that, accord
teel for her to take unto herself an- ' and then we -" ' ' ' I lng to the decision of the court, his
other husband. , ) I But he didn't finish. Mother put up daughter Mary is to come to him on
But Aunt Hattle wouldn't even listen, her hand and stopped him. Her face the first day of May. If you will kind-
Ana sne tnrew up ner nanas ana said, ;
"Marie !" again with the emphasis on
the last part of the name the way II
simply loathe. And she told me never,
never to let her hear me make such a
speecn as mat again. Ana I said I
would be very . careful not to. . And
you may be sure I shall. I don't want
to go through a scene like that again!
She told Mother about, It, though, I
think. Anyhow, they were talking very
busily together when they came into
the library after dinner that night,
and Mother looked sort of flushed and
plagued, and I' heard her say, "Per-
haps the child does read too many as to go and leave you?"
novels, Hattie." j she got up then, and he got up, too.
And Aunt Hattle answered, "Of , He said something I couldn't hear
course she does !" Then she said some-1 what it was ; but it was sad. and re
thing else which I didn't catch, only j nroachful I'm sure of that bv the
the words "silly" and "romantic" and
"pre-co-shus." (I don't know what that
last means, but I put It down the, way
It sounded, and I'm going to look it
Then they turned and saw me, and
they didn't say anything more. But
the next morning the perfectly lovely
story I was reading, that Theresa let
me take, called "The Hidden Secret,"
T .,,u,( r,,.,,.u,. .i
1 couldn t find anywhere. And when
I asked Mother if she'd seen it, she
RnI(1 sw,i r,tVfn It hnclr tn Tfmraan '
6ala sne1a lven 11 U,1CK t0 J-heiesa,.
ahd that I mustn't ask for it again,
rphnt T wn!n' ni,i nniii'li vut (n PnH
lnat 1 wasn t Old enough jet to read
. .. . . , T, . , .
There 't is again ! I 111 not old
enough. When will I be allowed to
. , , , ... ,
tak my proper place In life? Kcho
Well, to resume and go on.
What was I talking about? Oh, I
know the prospective suitors. (Aunt
tr ... . . ' , T , .
Hattle can t hear me when I just write
.. . ... ,. t, ,, J .
i. anyway.) ttell, they all come just
AS thpv iisfri in. nnlv tlurp nrp rnnre
of them now two fut men, one slim
one, and a man with a halo of hair
round a bald spot. Oh, I don't mean
that any of them are really suitors
yet. They just come to call and to
tea, and send her flowers and candy.
And Mother isn't a mite nicer to one
than she is to any of the others. Any
body can see that. And she shows
very plainly she's no notion of pick
ing anybody out yet. But of course
I can't help being Interested and
It won't be1. Mr. Harlow, anyway.
I'm pretty sure of that, even If lie has
Started in to get ills divoree. (And
he has. I heard. Aunt Ilatlie tell
Mother so last week.) But Mother
doesn't like him. I'm sure she doesn't,
lie makes her awfully nervous. Oh,
she laughs and talks with him seems
as if she laughs even more with hiiu
than she does with anybody else. But
she's always looking around for some
body else to talk to; and I've seen her
get up and move off just as he was
coming across the room toward her,
and I'm just sure she saw him. There's
another reason, too, why I think Moth
er isn't going to choose him for her
lover. I heard something she said tp
him one day.
She was sitting before the fire in the
library, and he came in. There were
oOier people there, quite a lot of
Uiem; but Mother was all alone by
the fireplace, her eyes looking fixed
and dreamy Into the fire. I was In
the window-seat around the comer of
the chininev reading; and I could see
Mother in the mirror just as plain as
do you do?" Then she gave her quick
little look around to see If there wasn't
somebody else near for her -to talk to.
But there wasn't.
"But you do dream of the old days,
sometimes, Madge, don't you?" he be
gan again, soft and low, leaning a lit
tle nearer .J
"Of when I was a child and played
dolls befor this very fireplace? Well,
yes, perhaps I do," laughed Mother.
And I e uld see she drew away lit
tle. "There was one dt.ll with a brok
en head that
"I was speaking of broken hearts."
Interrupted Mr. Harlow, very mean
ingfully. "l'.r-ken hearts! Nonsense! A. If
11,,.,-e were gUrh things in the world!"
cried Mother, with a little toss to her
head, looking around again with
V4 L 1 V. IV IllltV .1UUQ Alii Mill nr. 1I1JC -SW
to talk to.
But still there wasn't anybody there,
They were all over to the other side
of the room talking, and paying no at-
tentlon to Mother and Mr. Harlow,
only the' violinist. He looked and
looked, and acted nervous with hla
wntch-rhain. Rnr h iiiiin't cnm over.
I felt, some way, that I ought to go
away and not hear any more; but
should both have had to trail through
the tragedy of broken hearts and lives
before we came to our real hannlness.
wasn't-flushed any more. It was very
"Carl," she began In a still, quiet
voice, and I was so thrilled. I knew
something was going to happen this
time she'd called him by his first
name. "I'm sorry," she went on. "I've
' tried to show you I've tried very
hard to show you without speaking,
p)Ut If you make me say it I shall have
to say it. Whether you are free or
not matters not to me. It can make
no difference In our relationship. Now,
i will-you come with me to the other
' side of the room, or must I be so rude
look in his eyes. Then they both
walked across the room to the others.
I was sorry for him. I do not want
him for a father, but I couldn't help
being sorry for him, he looked so sad
and mournful and handsome; and he's
got perfectly beautiful eyes. (Oh, I
do hope mine will have nice eyes when
I find him!)
As I - said before, I don't believe
Mother'll choose-Mr. Harlow, anyway,
even when the time comes. As for any
of the others I can't tell. She treats
them nil just exactly alike, as far as I
can see. Polite tnd pleasant, but not
at all loverlike. I was talking to Pe
ter one day about It, nnd'I asked him.
But' lie didn't seem to know, either,
which one she will be likely t6 take, If
Peter's about the only one I can
risk. Of course I couldn't ask Moth
er, or Aunt Hattle And Grandfather
well, I should never think of asking
(iiiindpa a question like that. But
Peter Peter's a real comfort. I'm
sui'eJ don't know what I should do for
swffieliody to talk to and ask questions
about things down here, if it wasn't
for him. . He takes nie to school and
back again every day; so of course I
see him quite a lot.
Speaking of school, It's all right, and
of course I like it, though not quite so
well as I did. There are some of the
girls well, they act queer. I don't
know what is the matter with them.
They stop talking some of them
when I come up, und they make me
feel, sometimes, as if I didn't belong.
Maybe It's because I came from a little
country town like Andersonvllle. But
they've known that all along, from
the very first. And they didn't act at
all like that at the beginning. Maybe
It's just their way down here. If I
think of It I'U ask Peter tomorrow.
Well, I guess that's all I cam think
of this time.
MOST FOUR MONTHS LATER
It's been ages since I've written
here, I know. But there's nothing spe
cial hapiened. Everything has been
going along Just about as it did at the
first. Oh, there Is one thing different .
Peter's gone. He went two months
ago. We've got an awfully old chauf- j
four now. One with gray hair and
glasses, and homely, too. His name Is
Charles. The very first day he came,
Aunt Hattle told me never to talk to
Charles, or bother him with ques
tions; that It was better he should
keep his mind entirely on his driving.
She needn't have worried. I should
never dream of asking him the things
I did Petej. He's too stupid. Now :
Peter and I cot to he real emid friends '
until all of a sudden Grandpa told
hlm he might go. I don't know whv,
I don'.t see as I'm any nearer finding
out who Mother's lover will be than I
p f..r ,.,.,.i,. . t r., tr.
still too soon. Peter said one day ' he
thought widows ought to wait at least
a year, and he guessed grass-widows
were Just the same. My, how mad I
was at him for using that name about
my mother 1 Oh, I knew what he
meant. I'd heard It at school. (I
know now what it was thnt made
those girls act so queer and horrid.)
There was a girl I never liked her.
n oil t KiiKiKrt she dldn t like me.
either. . Well, she found out Mother
had a divorce. (You seo, I hadn't
told It. I rememlered how those girls
out West bragged.) And she told a
lot of the others. But It didn't work
at all as It had In the West. None of
the plrU ln this school here had a di
vorce In their families; and, if you'll
?elieve It. they acted some of them
as if it was a disgrace, even rfter I
told them good and plain that ours
was a perfectly resectable and gen
teel divorce. Nothing I could f-ay
made a mite of difference, with some
of the girls, and tlwn Is when I first
heard that perfectly horrid word,
"grass-widow." S I knew that r-
tf-r meant, thonsh I was furious at him
,.air,r It Ami I et him It
g.,od und plain.
Ct course I changed schools. 1 1
knew Mother'd want me to, when she
knew, and so I told her right away. I j
thought she'd be superb and haughty
and disdainful sure this time. Put
she wasn't. FlrBt she grew stV white
I thought she was going to faint away.
Then she began to cry and kiss and
hug me. And that night I heard her
talking to Aunt Huttle and saying,
"To think that thut poor innocent
child has to suffer, too!" and some
more which I couicin t near, necause
her voice was all choked up and
Mother Is crying nw quite a lot.
You see, her six months are 'most up,
and I've got to go back to Father. And
I'm afraid Mother Is awfully unhappy
about it. She had a letter last week
from Aunt Jane, Father's sister. I
heard her read It out loud to Aunt
Hattle and Grandpa in the library. It
wus very stiff and cold and dignified,
and ran something like this:
"Dear. Madam: Dr. Anderson- de
ly inform him as to the hour or ner
j expected arrival, he will see that she
properly met atthe station."
I Then she signed her name, Abigail
Jane Anderson. (She was named for
her mother, uranunia Anuerson, same
s Father wanted them to name me.
Mercy 1 I'm glad they didn't. "Mary"
is bad enough, but "Abigail Jane" !)
' ' Well, Mother read the letter aloud,
then she began to talk about it how
she felt, and how awful it -was to
think of giving me up six whole
months, and sending her bright little
sunny-heurted Marie into that tomb-
like place with only an Abigail Jane to
flee to for refuge. And she said that
she almost wished Nurse Sarah was
back again that she, at least, was
" 'And see that she's properly met,'
Indeed !" went on Mother, with an in
dignant little choke in her voice. "Oh,
yes, I know! Now, If Jt were a star
or a comet that he expected, he'd go
himself and sit for hours and hours
watching for It. But when his daugh
ter comes, he'll send John with the
. horses, like enough, and possibly that
precious Abigail Jane of his. Or, may
be that Is too much to expect. Oh,
Hattie, I can't let her go I can't, I
I was in the window-seat around the
corner of the chimney, reading; and I
don't know as she knew I was there.
But I was, and I heard. And I've
heard other things, too, all this week.
I'm to go next Monday, and as It
comes nearer the time Mother's get
ting worse and worse. She's so un
happy over it. And of course that
makes me unhappy, too. But I try not
to show it. Only yesterday, when she
was crying and hugging nie, and telling
me how awful it was -that her little
girl should have to suffer, too, I told
her not to worry a bit about nie ; .that
I wasn't suffering at all. i liked it.
It was ever so much more exciting to
have two homes Instead of -one. But
she only cried all the more, and
sobbed, "Oh, my baby, my baby!" so
nothing I could say seemed to do one
mite of good.
But I meant it, and I told the truth.
I am excited. And I can't help won
dering how it's all going to be at Fa
ther's. Oh, of course, I know It won't
be so much fun, and I'll have to be
"Mary," and all that; but it'll be
something different, and I always did
like different things. Besides, there's
Father's love story to watch. Maybe
he's found somebody. Maybe he
didn't wait a year. Anyhow, If lie
did find somebody I'm sure he wouldn't
be so willing to wait as Mother
would. You. know Nurse Surah said
Father never wanted to wait for any
thing. That's why he married Mother
so quick, ln the first place. But If
there Is somebody, of course I'll find
out when I'm there. So that'll be In
teresting. And, anyway, there'll . be
the girls. I shall have them.
I'll close now, und make this the
end of the chapter. It'll be Anderson
vllle next time.
When I Am Mary.
Well, here I am. I've been here two
days now, and I guess I'd better write
down what's happened so far, before
I forget it.
First, about my leaving Boston.
r. r JUotner lia tate on ureau-
full"' tt,,a" 1 thought she Just wouldn't
u Ste wnt with me to the
J"lon where I ha.T to change, and
nsked the conductor to look out for
me. (As If I needed that a young
lady like me I I'm fourteen now. I
had a birthday last week.)
But I thought at the last she just
wouldn't let nie go, she clung to me
so. and begged me to forgive her for
all she'd brought upon me ; and said It
was a cruel, cruel shame, when there
were children, and people ought to
stop and think and remember, and be
willing to stand anything. And then.
the aext breath, she'd beg n.e not to
forget her, and not to love Father bet
ter than I did her. (As If there wis
any danger of that!) And to write to
her every few minutes.
' Then the conductor cried, "All
aboard!" and the bell rang, and she
had to go and leave me. But the Inst
I saw of her she was waving her hand
kerchief, and smiling the kind of a
tmile that's worse than crying right
out loud. Mother's always like that.
No matter how bad she feels, at the
Inst minute slie ffyues up brljrht and
fmiliiig. and Just ns brave as can be.
I had a wonderful trip to Anilcrson
ville. Everybody was very kind to me,'
und there were lovely thine to se
otH t Uie wniuow. i lie l on iiK ior
can e In and spoke to nie several times
(To b contlnu '
The Long Trail
It Runs From Massachusetts State
Line to Johnson, Connecting
Highest Mountains, 210 Miles
SHOULD BE EXTENDED
From Johnson to Jay Peak and
Canada, Some 30 Odd Miles.
The Long Trail is a path
through the wilderness, along the
mountains, from the Massachusetts
state lin'e as far north as Johnson.
It is marked with signs where it
crosses roads and other paths with
signs pointing the way and through
the forests, by blazed trees.
Hundreds of tourists from this and
other states hike "over parts of this
trail and few follow it the entire dis
tance of 210 miles,' for the magnifi
cent scenery and views that may be
had from the mountain tops along
the way. '
It touches all the highest moun
tains in Vermont except one, starting
in the south, Stratton mountain, then
Mt. Taber. with White Rocks Moun
tain, Killington Peak, Mt. llorrid,
Bread Loaf Mountain, Lincoln Moun
tain, Camel's Hump, Mt. Mansfield,
thence across Smugglers' Notch to
Sterling Mountain and down to John
The Green Mountain Club, John
son people and Jay Peak enthusiasts
very much desire to have it extended
to include Belvidere and Lowell
Mountains to Jay Peak and thence to
the Canadian line.
There are shelter cabins along the
trail where hikers can rest or spend
the night, like Taft Lodge, under the
shadow of Mt. Mansfield, where there
is a care taker and also at a few
The value of the free publicity
the Long Trail brings to Vermont,
can-not-be told. Leading magazines
and great city newspapers have told
of the glories of sun rises and sun
sets seen from these mountain tops,
in pictures and word painting the
New York Evening Post of June 10,
1922 carried a whole page of photo
graveurs pictures and descriptive
text of these scenic wonders, besides
a leading editorial extolling Vermont.
The Green Mountain Club issues a
guide book so complete with maps
and detailed information that any
person can follow the trail from
Johnson south for the entire distance
with out a guide.
Will those in this county particu-
larlyin Johnson, Eden, etc., join with
members of the Green , Mountain
Club and enthusiasts in Orleans
county, in helping to extend the trail
some 30 odd miles from Johnson to
Nothing that we could do would do
more to advertise this county, "The
Switzerland of America," than to
join with other willing nature lovers
and push the Long Trail through to
Jay Peak and beyond.
A copy of the Guide Book and
other Long Trail information can be
had by sending 50 cents to Dr. L. J.
Paris, 324 South Union street, Bur-
Shall we put Lamoille county on
the Long Trail map?
This paper will issue an illustrated
edition telling more about the scenic
attractions of, Vermont as disclosed
by the Long Trail as soon as the cuts
can be procured.
Prices continue to come down they
say. Perhaps we may be able to see
them before long.
Be optimistic as to the future.
rressimism gathers no moss.
People who hit the hiirh snots
often find themselves in the low ones. ' . . lsslon scientific Christian
Keep moving, or the world will run ' lty ls, to revea' tne perfectness and
off and leave you. completeness of God's work, to en-
Don't throw your money to the abl,e us to ovrcome in our own lives
birds. It is bad for them as well as and experiences everything and
y0U. every thought that is unlike God and
Get busy and step lively. The J1'. creation. Docs not this thought
world owes you nothing. . h1 l,Ts bark to that rule ofstonduct
Free advice is seluom worth its 'ch Jp?us a.ve- tta' Te ?houl(1 do,
cos(; ( always the thing that is in accord
When duty calls most of us are with the Father's will?
ain hfscountry the office never', VERMONT STATE NEWS.
seeks the man. It simply endures
him along with its other afflictions. I. Middlebury College sent out 84
Those war fraud millions are still graduates this year.
occupying the public mind and the , . . . r ,r . IT
pockets of the thieves Chester is to have a Masonic Home
All women look alike to men who Inc-' 'tt'itll $10.0 capital.
can t see. ... !
People can hot be expected to re
spect the law of the land unless they
are first taught t respect them-
Let not your right hand know what
your left hand doeth. It might feel
Tell the truth at all times, is good
.... .. . . . "
advice. But tell it to the right per
son is wisdom.
-Beautv that is skin deep seldom
fades. It washes away.
Success breeds confidence until it
The worst of our worries are over
things that never happen.
Poverty is not a crime, but many
peoplereat it as such.
(food roads are only possioie under rnont poet, Daniel i aay, as m ai
good officials.' Watch your vote as traction for its fair this fall.
W A rTto wise is sufficient.
provided it is not uttered by a fool.
Keep in touch with he world if
you don't want to be touched.
Judge Samuel W. Greene Speaks on
"The Religion of Fulfillment" to a
Delighted Audience Thursday Night
At Universalis! Church, Morrisville
Those who failed to hear Judge
Samuel W. Greene, C. S., of Louis
ville, Ky., at the Universalist Church
Thursday evening missed something
well worth listening to and worth
thinking over seriously, regardless of ,
creed or previous belief. Judge
Greene is a member of the board of
lecturship of the "Mother Church,
the First Church of Christ, Scientist,
We regret that there was not a
larger audience present, and give
below a brief outline of the lecture,
for the benefit of those who did not
or could not hear it.
Christian Science is indeed the
new-old story of Life and Truth and
Love. It is the simple, sweet story
as it was taught and proved and
practiced by Jesus of Nazareth nine
teen hundred years ago. It em
braces just the same thought, that
through the understanding of the
ever-present love and power of God,
humanity is healed not only of sin
but of all the results of sin sick
ness, sorrow, unhappiness, death.
Perhaps the term Principle is used
for God in Christian Science has
more than any other word aroused
an unusual inquiry in the average
orthodox thought, for men have
thought of God generally as just a
great superman, a power to be feared
rather than understood and loved
sitting upon throne, waiting to judge
men, and sending both good and evil.
The world needs to get away from
this view of God. It needs a larger
concept of God, which is embraced in
the use-of the term Principle.
In an eastern city after a lecture,
a woman came to me in seeming
mental distress and said: "I want to
know how your God can be every
where at the same time." I was
grateful then for the thought of God
being Principle, as it afforded a
ready answer to her inquiry. In con
sidering the principle of mathematics
manifest in addition, subtraction,
multiplication, it is easv to see that.'
this principle can be everywhere at.
the same time. The millions of
Europe, Asia, Africa or America, can '
all have the multiplication table at
the same time with all of its power
and facility, without interfering in
the slightest particular with its use
anywhere else in the universe, always
with one proviso, that they do
understand the multiplication table
and apply ft.
In a far larger sense Gorl lwinw
divine Principle, infinite, unfailing, is .
everywhere present, able to solve
man s every problem provided man
understands Him and the availabilitv
and application of His power.
Was not this the thoue;ht of th
Psalmist when, he sans: "If I ascenrl
up into heaven, thou art there: If I
make my bed in pell, hehold, thou art
there. If I take the wines of the
morning, and dwell in the uttermost
parts of the sea: Even there shnll
thy hand lead me, and thv right hand
shall hold me" (Psalms 139).
There is no problem, no condition.
that can come to us but God's power
is ever available for its satisfactory
Continuine this same thoiifht. nf
the multiplication table, ask a school
boy how long he thinks eight times
eight have been sixty-four and ten
times ten one hundred." Doubtless
his answer will be "always." How
long ne tninks it will remain so?
Answer "always." And that is
correct.' As idea of Principle does
not change, so the multiplication
table, as idea of the principle of ma
thematics can never change. Prin
ciple does not change nor does its
idea or image. Likewise divine
Principle is eternal, , inviolable, un
changing, always operating. Prin
ciple is not moved ,by the breath of
praise or flattery, or by entreaty or
threat. In the thought or God being
Principle, Christian Scientists have
p-otten away from the old belief that
God interfers in the affairs of men
because they are asking Him to do
this, that, or some other thing, or
that God causes the unhatural or su
pernatural to be happening in the
lives and affairs of men. It teaches
God's work is already perfect anth
complete. Indeed the Bible savs that
1 "God saw every thing that he had
mn'e. ar"1. behold, it was very good."
. Ex-Governor E. J. Ormsbee of
Brandon was 88 years old last week.
"Death's Curve," an overpass at
Richmond is to be improved by the
, , , . ,
The fines and costs collected in the
Burlington city court the last two
1 1 J. I 4 1 W-t -f Oi
months amounted to $1,711.84.
' The Dover Lumber Company is a
new corporation, with headquarters
at Wilmington and $50,000 capital.
WlnlcAr tnnw trot th Paouin Man-
f,-tJr,0. rmnnnv of Snrinefield.
makr hf horse heatinir equipment.
West Falrlee has secured a Ver-
The will of the ' late Allen M
Fletcher has been rebated He
leaves the bulk of his property to his