Newspaper Page Text
THE YALE EXPOSITOR. THURSDAY. JANUARY 2!. 1914.
The Call of the
By Charles Neville Buck
from Photographs of Scenes
in the Play
(Copyright. 191 J. by W. . Watt & Co)
: On Mtsery crepk Sally Miller finds
Georo- I-fseott. a landscape painter, un
conscious. JcsHtf I'urvy of tlie Hollmiin
clan has been shot ami Hanison Is bus
pt'eted of tlit) crime. Samson denies It.
The tdiootini? breaks the truce In the
Hollman-Souih feud. Lescott discovers
artistic nbllity In Samson. Ktiinson
thrushes Tamarack Spicer and denounces
'him rs the "truce-buster" who shot I'urvy.
tiumson tells the South clan that he Is
Kolnjf to leave the mountains. Lescott
Koes home to New York. Samson bids
Spicer and Rally farewell and follows. In
New York Samson studies art and learns
much of city ways Drennie Lescott per
suades Wilfred llorton. her dilettante
lover, to do a man's work in the world.
Prompted by her love. Sally teaches her
self to write. Horton throws himself Into
the business world and becomes well
hated by predatory financiers and politi
cians. At a nohemlan resort Samson
meets "William Karblsh. sporty social par
asite, and Horton's enemy. Farblsh con
spires with others to make Horton Jeal
.ous. and succeeds Karblsh brings Horton
and Samson together at the Kenmore
club's shooting lode. and forces an open
rupture, expecting Samson to kill Horton
and so rid the political and financial thugs
of the crusader. Samson exposes the plot
and thrashes the conspirators.
CHAPTER XI Continued.
"George Lescott brought me up here
and befriended me. Until a year ago
I had never known any life except
that of the Cumberland mountains.
Until I met Miss Lescott, I had never
known a woman of your world. She
was good to me. She saw that In
spite of my roughness and ignorance I
wanted to learn, and she taught me.
You chose to misunderstand, and dis
liked me. These men saw that, and
believed that, if they could make you
insult me, they could make me kill
you. As to your part, they succeeded.
I didn't fee fit to oblige them, but,
now that I've settled with them, I'm
willing to give you satisfaction. Do
we fight now and shake hands after
ward, or do we shake hands without
Horton stood silently studying the
"Good God!" he exclaimed at last.
"And you are the man 1 undertook to
"You ain't answered my question,"
suggested Samson South.
"South, if you are willing to shake
hands with me I shall be grateful. I
may as well admit that, if you had
thrashed me before that crowd, you
could hardly have succeeded in mak
ing me feel smaller. I have played
Into thrir hands. I have been a damned
fool. I have riddled my own self
respect and if you can afford to ac
cept my apologies and ray hand I am
offering you both."
"I'm right glad to hear that," said
the mountain boy, gravely. "I told
you I'd just as lief shake hands as
fight. . . . Hut Just now I've got to
0 to the telephone." .
The booth was In the same room,
and, as Horton waited, he recognized
the number for which Samson was
calling. "Wilfred's face once more
'flushed with the old prejudice. Could
It be that Samson meant to tell Adri
enne Lescott what had transpired?
Was he, after all, the braggart who
boasted of his fights? And, if not,
was it Samson's custom to call her
up every evening for a good-night
message? He turned and went into
the hall, but, after a few minutes, re
turned. "I'm glad you liked the show . . ."
the mountaineer was Baying. "No,
nothing special is happening here
except that the ducks are plentiful.
. . . Yes, I like it fine. . . . Mr.
Horton's here. Wait a minute I
.guess maybe he'd like to talk to you."
The Kentucklan beckoned to Hor
ton, and, as he surrendered the re
ceiver, left the room. He was think
ing with a smile of the unconscious
humor with which the girl's voice had
Just come across the wire:
"I knew that if you two met each
other you would become friends."
"I reckon," said Samson, ruefully,
when Horton Joined him, "we'd better
look around and see how bad those
fellows are hurt in there. They may
need a doctor." And the two went
back to find several startled servants
assisting to their beds the disabled
combatants, and the next morning
their inquiries elicited the informa
tion that the gentlemen were all "able
to be about, but were breakfasting in
Such as looked from their windows
that morning saw an unexpected cli
max, when the car of Mr. Wilfred
Horton drove away from the club car
rylng the man whom they had hoped
kto see killed and the man they had
hoped to see kill him. The two ap
peared to be in excellent spirits and
ithorougbly congenial as the car rolled
jout cf sight, and the gentlemen who
jwfre left behind decided that, in view
)of ti circumstances, the "extraordl
Inary spre" of last night had best go
unadTertIee! into ancient history.
, CHAPTER XII.
j The second year of a new order
brings fewer radical changes than the
'first Samson's work began to forge
krut of the ranks of the ordinary and
'to show symptoms of a quality which
ould oma day glre it distinction.
Heretofore his instructors had held
him rigidly to the limitations of black
and white, but now they took off the
bonds and permitted blm the colorful
delight of attempting, to express him
self from the palette. It was like per
mitting a natural poet to leave prose
and play with prosody.
One day Adrienne looked up from a
sheaf of his very creditable landscape
studies to inquire suddenly:
"Samson, are you a rich man or a
He laughed. "So rich," he told her,
"that unless I can turn some of this
stuff into money within a year or two
I shall have to go back to hoeing
She nodded gravely.
"Hasn't it occurred to you," she
demanded, "that in a way you are
wasting your gifts? They were talk
ing about you the other evening sev
eral painters. They all said that you
should be doing portraits."
The Kentucklan smiled. His mas
ters had been telling him the same
thing. He had fallen in love with art
through the appeal of the skies .and
hills. He had followed its call at the
proselyting of George Lescott, who
painted only landscape. Portraiture
seemed a les artistic form of expres
sion. He said so.
"That may all be very true," she
conceded, "but you can go on with
your landscapes and let your por
traits pay the way. And," she added,
"since I am very vain and moderately
rich. I hereby commission you to
paint me, Just as soon as you learn
Farblsh had simply dropped out. Bit
by bit the truth of the conspiracy had
leaked, and he knew that his useful
ness was ended and that well-lined
pocketbooks would no longer open to
his profligate demands.
Sally had started to school. She
had not announced that she meant to
do so, but each day the people of Misery
saw her old sorrel mare making its
way to and from the general direction
of Stagbone college, and they smiled.
No one knew how Sally's cheeks
flamed as she 6at alone on Saturdays
and Sundays on the rock at the back
bone's rift. She was taking her place,
morbidly sensitive and a woman of
eighteen, among little spindle-shanked
girls in short skirts, and the little
girls were more advanced than she.
But she, too, meant to have 'Tarnin' "
as much of it as was necessary to sat
isfy the lover who might never come.
And yet, the "fotched-on" teachers at
the "college" thought her the most
voraciously ambitious pupil they had
ever had, so unflaggingly did she toil,
and the most remarkably acquisitive,
so fast did she learn. Hut her studies
had again been interrupted, and Miss
G rover, her teacher, riding over one
day to find out why her prize scholar
had deserted, met in the road an
empty "jolt wagon," followed by a
ragged cortege of mounted men and
women, whose faces were still lugu
brious with the effort of recent
mourning. Her question elicited the
information that they were returning
from the "buryin' " of the Widow Mil
ler. Towards the end of that year Sam
son undertook his portrait of Adri
enne Lescott. The work was Hearing
completion, but it had been agreed
that the girl herself was not to have
a peep at the canvas until the painter
was ready to unveil it In a finished
condition. Often, as she posed, Wil
fred Horton idled in the studio with
them, and often George Lescott came
to criticize, and left without criticiz
ing. The girl was impatient for the
day when she, too, was to see the pic
ture, concerning which the three men
maintained so profound a secrecy. She
knew that Samson was a painter who
analyzed with his brush, and that his
picture would show her not only fea
tures and expression, but the man's
estimate of herself.
"Do you know," he said one day,
coming out from behind his easel and
studying her, through half-closed eyes,
"I never really began to know you un
til now? Analyzing you studying you
in this fashion, not by your worde, but
by your expression, your pose, the
very unconscious essence of your per
sonalitythese things are illuminat
ing." "Although I am not painting you,"
she said with a smile, "I have been
studying you, too. As you stand there
before your canvas your own person
ality is revealed and I have not been
entirely unobservant myself."
"And under tho X-ray scrutiny of
this profound analysis," he said with
a laugh, "do you like me?"
"Wait and see," she retorted.
"At all events" he spoke gravely
"you must try to like me a little, be
cause I am not what I was. The per
son that I am is largely the creature
of your own fashioning. Of course
you had very raw material to work
with, and you can't make a silk purse
of' he broke off and smiled "well,
of me, but in time you may at least
get me mercerized a little."
For no visible reason she flushed,
and her next question came a trifle
"Do you mean I have influenced
"Influenced me, Drennie?" he re
peated. "You have done more than
that You have painted me out and
painted me over."
She shook her head, and in her eyes
danced a light of subtle coquetry.
"There are things I have tried to
do, and failed," she told him.
His eyes showed surprise.
"Perhaps," he apologlied, "I am
dense, and you may have to tell me
bluntly what I am to do. Dut you
know that you have only to tell me."
For a moment she said nothing,
then shook her head again.
"Isue your orders," he insisted. "I
am valtlng to obey."
She hesitated again, then said,
"Have your hair cut It's the one
uncivilized thing about you."
For an Instant Samson's face hard
ened. "No," he said; "I don't care to do
"Oh, very well!" she laughed lightly.
"In that event, of course, you shouldn't
do it." Dut her smile faded, and after
a moment he explained:
"You see, it wouldn't do."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that I've got to keep some
thing as it wae to remind me of a prior
claim on my life."
For an instant the girl's face cloud
ed and grew deeply troubled.
"You don't mean," she asked, with
an outburst of Interest more vehement
than she had meant to show, or real
ized she was showing "you don't
mean that you still adhere to ideas of
the vendetta?" . Then she broke off
with a laugh, a rather nervous laugh.
"Of course not," she answered her
self. "That would be too absurd t"
"Would it?" asked Samson, simply.
He glanced at his watch. "Two min
utes up," he announced. "The model
will please resume the pose. Dy the
way, may I drive with you tomorrow
The next afternoon Samson ran up
the street Bteps of the Lescott house
and rang the bell, and a few moments
later Adrienne appeared. The car was
waiting outside, and, as the girl came
down tho stairs In motor coat and
veil, she paused and her fingers on the
banister tightened In surprise as she
looked at the man who stood below
holding his hat in his hand, with his
face upturned. The well-shaped head
was no longer marred by the mane
which it had formerly worn, but was
close cropped, and under the trans
forming influence of the change the
forehead seemed bolder and higher,
and to her thinking the strength of
the purposeful features was enhanced,
and yet, had she known it, the man
felt that he had for the first time sur
rendered a ioint which meant an aban
donment of something akin to prin
ciple. She said nothing, but as she took
his hand in greeting her fingers
pressed' his own In handclasp more
lingering than usual.
Late that evening, when Samson re
turned to the studio, he found a mis
sive in hi.s letter box, and, as he took
it out. his eyes fell on the postmark.
It was dated from Hixon, Kentucky,
and, as the man slowly climbed the
stairs, he turned the envelope over in
his hand with a strange sense of mis
giving and premonition.
The letter was written in the
cramped hand of Brother Spencer.
Through its faulty diction ran a plain
ly discernible undernote of disapproval
for Samson, though there was no word
of reproof or criticism. It was plain
that it was sent as a matter of cour
tesy to one who. having proved an
apostate, scarcely merited such consid
eration. It informed him that old
Spicer South had been "mighty pore
ly," but was now better, barring the
breaking of age. Everyone was "tol
erable." Then came the announce
ment which the letter had been writ
ten to convey.
The term of the South-Hollman truce
had ended, and it had been renewed
for an indefinite period.
"Some of your folks thought they
ought to let you knoiv because they
promised to give you a say," wrote
the informant. "But they decided that
it couldn't hardly mako no difference
to you, since you have left the moun
tains, and if you cared anything about
it, you knew the time, and could of
been here. Hoping this finds you
Samson's face clouded. He threw
the soiled and scribbled missive down
on the table and sat with unseeing
eyes fixed on the studio wall. So, they
had cast him out of their councils!
They already thought of him as one
who had been.
In that passionate rush of feeling
everything that had happened since
he had left Misery seemed artificial
and dreamlike. He longed for the
realities that were forfeited. He want
ed to press himself close to the great
gray shoulders of rock that broke
through the greenery like giants tear
ing off soft raiment Those were his
people back there. He should be run
ning with the wolf pack, not coursing
He had been telling himself that he
was loyal and now he realized that he
was drifting like the lotus eaters.
He rose and paced the floor, with
teeth and hands clenched and the
sweat standing out on his forehead.
His advisers had of late been urging
him to go to Paris. He had refused,
and his unconfessed reason had been
that in Paris he could not answer a
sudden call. He would go back to
them now and compel them to admit
Then his eyes fell on the unfinished
portrait of Adrienne. The face gazed
at him with its grave sweetness; its
fragrant subtlety and its fine-grained
delicacy. Her pictured Hps were si
lently arguing for the life he had
found among strangers, and her vic
tory would have been an easy one, but
for the fact that just now his con
science seemed to be on the other
side. Samson's civilization was two
years old a thin veneer over a cen
tury of feudalism and now the cen
tury was thundering its 'call of blood
bondage. But, as the man struggled
over the dilemma, he pendulum
swung back. The hundred years had
left, also, a heritage of quickness and
bitterness to resent Injury and Injus
tice. His own people had cast him
out. They bad branded him as the
deserter; they felt no need of him or
his counsel. Very well, let them havo
It so. His problem had been settled
for him. Ills Gordian knot was cut.
Sally and his uncle alone had his
address. This letter, casting him out,
must have been authorized by them,
Brother Spencer acting merely as
amanuensis. They, too, had repudi
ated him and, if that were true, ex.
cept for the graves of his parents,
the hills had no tie to hold him.
"Sally, Sally!" he groaned, dropping
his face on his crossed arms, while
his shoulders heaved in an agony of
heartbreak, and his words came in the
old, crude syllables: "I 'lowed you'd
believe in me ef hell froze!" He rose
after that, and made a fierce gesture
with his clenched flsts. "All right,"
he said, bitterly, "I'm shet of the lot
of ye. I'm done!"
But it was easier to say the words
of repudiation than to cut the ties
that were knotted about his heart
With a rankling soul, the mountain
eer left New York. He wrote Sally a
brief note, telling her that he was go
ing to cross the ocean, but his. hurt
pride forbade his pleading for her con
fidence, or adding, "I love you." Ho
plunged Into the art life of the "other
side of the Seine," and worked vora
ciously. He was trying to learn
much and to forget much.
One sunny afternobn when Samson
had been in the Quartler Latin for
eight or nine months the concierge of
his lodgings handed him, as he passed
through the cour, an envelope ad
dressed In the hand of Adrienne Les
cott. As he read it he felt a glow of
pleasurable surprise, and, wheeling, he
retraced his steps briskly to his lodg
ings, where he began to pack. Adri
enne had written that she and her
mother and Wilfred Horton were sail
ing for Naples, and commanded him,
unless he were too busy, to meet their
steamer. Within two hours be was
bound for Lucerne to cross the Italian
frontier by the slate-blue waters of
A few weeks later Samson and Ad
rienne were standing together by
moonlight In the ruins of the Coli
seum. The Junketing about Italy had
His Eyes Fell on the Postmark.
been charming, and now in that circle
of sepia softness and broken columns
he looked at her and suddenly asked
"Just what does she mean to you?"
If he had never asked himself that
question before he knew now that it
must some day be answered. Friend
ship had been a good and seemingly
a sufficient definition. Now he was not
so sure that it could remain so.
Then his thoughts went back to a
cabin in the hills and a girl In calico.
He heard a voice like the voice of a
song bird saying through tears:
"I couldn't live without ye, Samson.
... I Jest couldn't do hit!"
For a moment he was sick of his life.
It seemed that there stood before him.
In that place of historic wraiths and
memories, a girl, her eyes sad, but
loyal, and without reproof.
"You look," said Adrienne, studying
his countenance In the pallor of the
moonlight, "as though you were see
"I am," said Samson. "Let's go."
Adrienne had not yet seen her por
trait Samson had needed a few hours
of finishing when he left New York,
though it was work which could be
done away from the model. So it was
natural that when the party reached
Paris Adrienne should soon insist cm
crossing the Pont d'Alexandre III to
his studio near the "Boule Mich" for an
inspection of her commissioned canvas.
For a while 6he wandered about the
businesslike place, littered with the
gear of the painter's craft It was, in
a way, a form of mind-reading, for
Samson's brush was the tongue of his
The girl's eyes grew thoughtful as
she saw that he still drew the leering,
saturnine face of Jim . Asberry. He
had not outgrown hate, then? But
she said nothing until he brought out
and set on an easel her own portrait
For a moment she gasped with sheer
delight for the colorful mastery of the
technique, and she would have been
hard to please had she not been de
lighted with the conception of her
self mirrored in the canvas. It was a
face through which the soul showed,
and the soul was strong and flawless.
The girl's personality radiated from
the canvas and yet A disappointed
little look crossed and clouded her
eyes. She was conscious of an in
definable catch of pain at her heart
Samson stepped forward, and his
waiting eyes, too, were disappointed.
"You don't like it, Drennie?" he
anxiously questioned. But she smiled
in answer, and declared:
"I love it"
He went out a few minutes later to
telephone for her to Mrs. Lescott, and
gave Adrienne carte blanche to browse
among his portfolios and stacked can
vases until his return. In a few min
utes she discovered one of those ef
forts which bhe called his "rebellious
These were such things as he paint
ed, using no model except memory
perhaps, not for the making of finished
pictures, but merely to give outlet to
his feelings; an outlet which some
men might have found in talk.
This particular canvas was roughly
blocked in, and it was elementally
simple, but each brush stroke had
been thrown against the surface with
the concentrated Are and energy of a
blow, except the strokes that had
painted the face, and there the brush
had seemed to kiss the canvas. The
picture showed a barefooted girl,
standing, in barbaric simplicity of
dress, in the glare of the arena, while
a gaunt lion crouched eyeing her. Her
head was lifted as though ehe wero
listening to faraway music. In the
eyes was indomitable courage. That
canvas was at once a declaration of
love, and a miserere. Adrienne set
It up beside her own portrait, and, as
she studied the two with her chin rest
ing on her gloved hand, her eyes
cleared of questioning. Now she knew
what she missed In her own more
beautiful likeness. It had been paint
ed with all the admiration of the mind.
The other had been dashed off straight
from the heart and this other was
Sally! She replaced the sketch where
she had found It, and Samson return
ing found her busy with little sketches
of the Seine.
"Drennie," pleaded Wilfred Horton,
as the two leaned on the rail of the
Mauretania, returning from Europe,
"are you going to hold me off in
definitely? I've served my seven
years for Rachel, and thrown In some
extra time. Am I no nearer the goal?"
The girl looked at the oily heave of
the leaden and cheerless Atlantic, and
its somber tones found reflection In
her eyes. She shook her head.
"I wish I knew," she said, wearily.
Then she added vehemently: "I'm not
worth it, Wilfred. Let me go. Chuck
me out of your life as a little pig who
can't read her own heart; who is too
utterly selfish to decide upon her own
"Is it" he put the question wltn
foreboding "that, after all, I was a
prophet? Have you and South
wiped your feet on tho doormat
marked 'Platonic friendship?' Have
you done that, Drennie?"
She looked up into his eyes. Her
own were wide and honest and very
full of pain.
(TO CH CONTINUED.)
AGE HAS ITS COMPENSATION
Philosophical View as Taken by This
Man Seems to Have Much to
He was a lively old chap of past
seventy at a lobster palace table with
a glass of plain water for tipple.
"Of course," he was saying to the
younger men with him, "I am not as
long for this world as you chaps are,
If you live to be as old as I am, but
I have a satisfaction in life that you
haven't. I know, becauso when I
was in my forties every time I had
anything the matter with me I got
"I was afraid that either it would
kill me with only half my life lived or
that It was some lingering disease that
would mako thirty or forty years of
my life a burden. Nor was I alone
tJiinking that way. Every man of
my age hai 2ir.? ftf7-. J tWrfc
that comes to most men when they
are about thirty.,
"Youth's carelessness lasts only a
very short time and a man mighty
seen begins to wonder what will hap
pen to him next, or how long he will
stay In good shape. When a man
reaches my age he begins to be care
less again. Most cf what will happen
has happened, and he Is through with
it, and what is to happen next doesn't
make much difference because In tho
nature of things it can't last long
whatever it is and the finality comes
as a resting spell and a cessation from
the worries of the flesh.
"I know some old men who don't
take the same view of themselves that
I do, and I am sorry for them, be
cause a man owes it to himself, I
think, to quit bothering about giving
up when he knows he has to do it
whether or no."
Pleasure In One's Work.
Pleasure in work produces a sym
pathetic, teachable mental attitude to
ward the task. It makes the atten
tion involuntary, and eases the strain
of attending. It stops the nervous
leaks of worry. One of the secrets of
lasting well Is to avoid getting stale
and tired and in a mental rut Pleas
ure gives a sense of freedom that is a
rest as a wide road rests the driver.
To know a thing thoroughly and at
tain mastership in it, one must be
drawn back to it repeatedly by its at
tractions, and must find one's powers
evoked and trained by its inspiration.
Prof. Edward D. Jones, in Engineer
Primitive Chinese Still.
In the extraction of camphor tho
Chinese use a most primitive still,
which at the same time proves of con
siderable more efficacy than might be
expected. The leaves are placed in a
wicker basket, which is fixed over an
iron caldron containing water. On the
top of the basket a Basin of cold water
is placed. The steam from the caldron
passes through the leaves of the basket
and carries over the camphor vapor,
which Is deposited in the form of cam
phor on the cool tinder surface of the
MEXICAN CONVENTION PLACES
GENERAL GARZA IN
GUTIERREZ QUITS CAPITAL
New President Proclaims Marshal
Law and Convention Is Pro
claimed Supreme Govern
Mexico City Provisional President
Eulalio Gutierrez has been superseded
as head of the convention government
by Gen. Itoquo Gonzales Garza, pre
siding officer of the convention, which
Saturday night elected him provisional
president to servo until an election
shall be held and a president duly se
lected by ballot.
Gen. Garza is known as a Villa ad
herent. Gen. Gutierrez left Mexico City Sun
day morning for Pachucu, accom
panied by Gens. Blanco, Ilobles and
Gen. Garza proclaimed martial law
as his first official act and the con
vention was simultaneously proclaim
ed as the supreme governing body to
remain in control until a new execu
tive shall be selected by popular vote,
together with tho legislative and Ju
Gen. Garza first came into promi
nence in a political sense when he
served as a member of the Carranza
Villa peace commission which at
tempted to arrange a settlement be
tween the two leaders early last sum
mer. PRESIDENT IS GRANDFATHER
Mrs. Francis D. Sayre Gives Birth to
Son On Sunday.
Washington President Wilson at
the age of C7 is a grandfather.
The president's first grandchild, a
boy, was born to Mrs. Francis Bowes
Sayre at the White House at 4:30
o'clock Sunday afternoon. His arrival
was announced at C o'clock by Sec
retary Tumulty in this statement:
"Dr. Grayson,' tho White House
physician, states that at 4: CO o'clock
Mrs. Sayre gave birth to a fine boy.
Everything went perfectly and both
are doing well.
The boy, who weighed 7 12 pounds,
announced his arrival by lusty cries
which ave assurance that his lungs
were in good condition.
Mikado Would Aid Sufferers.
Home Tho Osscrvatoro Itornano
publishes a telegram dated SatunWy
from tho emperor of Japan to Pope
Benedict, expressing the warm desire
of the Japanese rulr to relieve the
ills resulting from the war. The em
peror adds in hi.s telegram that no
Japanese soldiers are being kept in
a hostile country as prisoners of war,
and gives assurance that all prison
ers of war In Japan are be
ing treated with the greatest benevo
lence, nono being in an unhappy state.
BRIEFS FROM THE WIRE
Amsterdam Official reports state
that the prisoners of war in Germany
and Austria now number 800,000. The
Cologne Gazette compares this figure
with 200.000 prisoners which It asserts
are held by the allies.
London The death of Lieut-Gen.
Anatole Mikhallovltch Stoessel, the
defender of Port Arthur, Is announced
in a Petrograd dispatch to Keuter's
Telegram Co. Gen. Stoessel had suf
fered from paralysis for several
Geneva, via Paris Dispatches from
northern Italy say that the earth
quake shocks were more violent in the
Alps than in the valleys. Around
Aosta and Courmayeur, some persons
wero injured. It Is reported that on
the day of the earthquake, shocks
also were felt around Lucerne and in
tho lower Engadino valley. Avalanches
continue In the Swiss Alps.
Chicago Members of the I. V. W.
started a riot Sunday at a meeting
called for the unemployed at Hull
House. They fought the police when
prevented from parading with black
banners when they had no permit and
after a fight in which a number of
policemen were attacked and scores
of the paraders injured 22 were ar
rested. Boston Six hundred draught
horses, the first of a consignment of
20.000 to be shipped through this port
for use on European battlefields, left
Sunday by the steamer Iberian for
Manchester, England. Beside the
horses, which arrived as special
freight from the west Saturday, the
cargo includes 16 carloads of motor
trucks for British army equipment
Holllster, Cal. L. V. Harkness, 64
years old, an early associate of John
D. Rockefeller in the oil business, died
Sunday on a ranch. He . formerly
made his home in New York City. Mr.
Harkness was an extensive owner of
Red Oak, Iowa -Smith McPherson,
for 15 years Judge of the federal court
in the southern Iowa district, died
Sunday night at his home. He had
been ill for six months, heat expos
ure superinducing severe indigestion
In Kansas last July.
MOTHER! LOOK AT
If cross, feverish, constipated,
give "California Syrup
A laxative today saves a sick child
tomorrow. Children simply will not
take the time from play to empty their
bowels, which become clogged up with
waste, liver gets sluggish; stomach
Look at the tongue, mother! If coat
ed, or your child is listless, cross, fev
erish, breath bad, restless, doesn't eat
heartily, full of cold or has sore throat
or any other children's ailment, give a
easpoonful of "California Syrup of
Figs," then don't worry, because it is
perfectly harmless, and in a few hours
all this constipation poison, sour bile
and fermenting wasto will gently
move out of the bowels, and you have
a well, playful child again. A thor
ough "inside cleansing" la ofttlmes all
that is necessary. It Bhould be the
first treatment given in any sickness.
Beware of counterfeit flg syrups.
Ask at the store for a 50-cent bottle of
"California Syrup of Figs," which has
full directions for babies, children of
all ages and for grownups plainly
printed on the bottle. Adv.
The Martini Berceuse.
A young lady was dining with some
friends at their home. The host had
concocted somo seductive cocktails
and she had Joined the others In
drinking to his health. Before the
dinner was over she was experiencing
that much-talked-of wobbly feeling
that is said to follow a cocktail.
While coffee was being served in
the drawing room the three-months-old
son of the family was brought in
to tho room and tho young guest In
sisted on holding him.
"I am surprised that he Is so con
tented In your lap," her hostess told
her. "He doesn't usually care for
"Well, you may not know It," was
the reply, "but ho Is being rocked."
New York Evening Post-
"What does her husband, do? I
heard her say something about tho
"He's a horso trader."
Close relatives can be very distant
if they are rich.
Tells How She Was Sated
by Taking Lydia E. Pink
Louisville, Ky. " I think if more suf
fering women would take Lydia E.
ble Compound they
would enjoy better
health. I suffered
from a female trou
ble, and the doctors
decided I had a
and would have to
be operated upon,
but I refused as I do
not believe In opera
tions. I had fainting spells, bloated,
end could hardly stand the fain in my
left side. My husband insisted that 1
try Lydia E. Pinkham's Vegetable
Compound, and I am so thankful I did,
for I am now a well woman. I sleep
better, do all my housework and take
long walks. I never fail to praise Lydia
E. Pinkham's Vegetable Compound for
xny good health. "Mrs. J. M. Resch,
1900 West Broadway, Louisville, Ky.
Since we guarantee that all testimo
nials which we publish are genuine, is it
not fair to suppose that if Lydia E.
Pinkham's Vegetable Compound has the
virtue to help these women it will help
any other woman who ii suffering in a
If you are ill do not drag along until
an operation is necessary, but at onca
take Lydia E. Pinkham's Vegetable
Write to Lydia E. Plnfcham
Medicine Co., (confidential) Lynn,
Mass. Your letter wil bo opened,
read and answered by a woman
and held in strict confidence
The Army of
! Growing: Smaller Every Day.
CARTER 5 LITTLE
LIYER PILLS are
-SgW . ICARTEft
tipatioa. Mil-' X
lions use "-nx
ladi'icstioa, Sick Hftdtcac, Sallow SVia.
SMALL PILL, SMALL DOSE, SMALL TRICE.
Genuine must bear Signature
J V TWDon, Lupui eur4 without hnlf vt I
Zp"- Aflwork twmt-4. Erg -TT-1
Dttrrfrva "? Mony-w tract) o
UClCClirei .bll f.nMToyl; high cUua lotrt.
Ion b? t prtdMt1r h mailt. Afnorreol 14.
p)f riftUMitmviHaita.feM.adi. mu2.