Newspapers / The Alamance Gleaner (Graham, … / March 5, 1925, edition 1 / Page 6
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Jads about (Jhfld-'hnth IT fees baaa liuie ■aaatnaltalj that aaaah ef the aafarlac. aaia aad feaad aaaaai . jassi aeeaataaaa, as wag aa at am til a Is aattralr naa niiiaia. aad ttaaaaa to rxpaad am I aaafla. durtM tba aooataat J* I wadjoaUnrrit, iaon* after A nth, right mm «s tka^^T . _ MatWr-a FrUnT to as- Wj IR> A (Molaraab. Tkraaif IT' Taiaa SWappaaral la taa U (Oj f *»» alter aataa MatWr'a H %- M ( *1 aw* ar Ufa to art Friaad."" Mrnd aarifcw. UaaHotkar'a Frta*d"sa ear SMtfcan aad ■■aiiitaaalhiia dkd. Mart ladaa aad aa> ■ Stan thaavadarful ceaiMt H wlllclaayaaL nn aooiui WweaM laealater tV. rvaak 111 tHaato. Ca.. tm fraa knaklat yi*»s Ma* r£mir*h sSTaT aii« k^ H win ■> IQear Your Skin! Of TlUmkkm I Use Cuticura Mm ill I"a Slaeli Ciail ■» L Ma, a aoaaM jajv&roatuin: s . 13 j Sinners in Heaven ( (! Bq CLIUE ARDEN | Copyright by The Bobbs-Merrtll Co. § PART FOUR—Continued —2o _ "I—killed him? I—killed Babooma —a niiin—?" Swiftly lie closed tier lips with hie own. with quick perception of the effects "Which renewed civilization might have'Ti'ud upon the primitive In stincts aroused on the Island. "I owe my very life to you. wife of my heart." he whispered. l'.tit his reflections were misplaced. "Thank find!" she cried unexpected ly "I would still kill anybody—any day--.who attempted to hurt you." " 'Norn de Dieu!'" he echi>ed 'he Frenchmen. "Our life will be a check ered career." Then Barbara fully recognized once more the old Alan of flesh and blood, deep moods and light hanter, poetic idealism and prompt action —dellclous- ly hitman, warm with love and life. She suddenly laughed, the bewildered sense of shock fnlling from her —the lirst real spontaneous laugh of many weeks. "Alan ' Alan ! Nothing matters but the fact that you are here —alive! But I can't understand It all. Horf was such a mistake mak>?" "Very easily. Because De Borceau didn't, of course, know friend from foe! Things were going all right with us. But when one of the devils set fire to the hut and the friendly spear knocked me out. De Borceau naturally though all was up. Some of Baboo ma's lot tried to reach you, but Itoowa frustrated them. Then De Borceau was staunch to his oath, lie fonght anybody who came near you, like a medieval knight, and carried you off to safety. Poor Boowa thought he had stolen you from me. and nearly went mad!" lie laughed reminlscently. "But you? What happened to you? The expedition searched the island. And what became of the De Borceaus when they returned—V He sank into the big armchair, still clasping her In Ills arms. "It's quite a fairy story. You remember the wood In the east—where, that first Christ mas day—?" "Every leaf!" she breathed. He smiled Into her eyes. . . . "But not every moss-covered rock. In that wood wag a very cleverly con ceuled entrance £> a'subterranean pas sage leading to n kind of vault. This narrowed down into another outlet— quite Impassable—on the shore, which allowed a little fresh air and glimmers of light. Thla cave was> tuliu. In 'happier days, when the tribe was suffi ciently self-supporting to—provide Its own meat, the cimdemned dinner was —well, we need not go Into details! But that cave was supposed to be haunted with (he spirits of past feasts. Nobody liked tu speak of It, or go near It. When I was considered dead, our friends, very naturally, carried off my bleeding corpse—" "Oh. don't I" cried the girl who had suffered so much from thla well meaning act. She buried her face on his shoulder. , . . After a lucid interval he resumed lilt narrative. "When tl'.e.v realized you had be«n "stolen' and I was still alive, the fear arose that the 'bird of 111 omen' would return and make off with me, too! So, to Insure my safety—that was the Irony of it all —they raised the tabu and hid me in the cave. Only Itoowa was courageous enough to enter with food. I was knocked out for some time. When 1 recovered—Barbara! Can you iwtssihly Imagine my feelings upon discovering that the rescue psrty had come and gone? I was raving mad! The |K»or beggars had done It for the best and were bewildered. Nothing would convince them that the white men were my friends. I spent what seemed years of agony, doubtful If any further help would come, kly only hope lay In you." "In me?" "I thought you would persuade De Borceau or somebody to try again, not rest content—" "1 wnnted to come myself," she cried. "I Implored and threat ened and— Oh! everybody waa to pig-bended. But what happened to De Borceau?" "As soon as the plane's arrival waa known the whole trllie raced pell-mell to the shore and burned It to clndera. I found the brothers hiding for their life In the forest." He gave an lr repre»>d|iii> bubble of laughter. "They —literally— fell from the trees upon my neck! We have been kissing each •»tl er a bunds or faces ever since. 80. sin, nothing remained but to wait nd hope. I thought at leaat a mla -iopary party would turn up. That -♦•••ond ex|tedltlon was Infernally low!" lie laid his cheek Impulsively down niton hers. "But I>e Borceau could give me new* of you. He tnld me everything—about Klngapoit—" Her lipa turned, trembling a little, to his. "And." she whispered. "'lt'!** "And "it.'" His arms tightened. "And—other things. I Insisted. Ha acted loyally—for us both, Barbara. But--by heaven!—it made my gorge rise to know what you were facing— the Inferencea, the— And there I waa, power!eaa at a stranded Infant ta batp you." "It was—h—l!" she murmured brief ly. "Have you heard—?" "Madge' told ine everything. She got the news of our rescue almost directly after you left London! I came home like the very devil —by sea, air, and land—to find you had disapiieared —gone to break your little heart alone, where I couldn't find you—" "I had ,to come away, Alan. I was in a turmoil—" "My Barbara, don't I understand!" Suddenly his eyes blazed In theit old way; and he dashed an arm upon the table, causing the flame of the lamp to Jump. "Those blighted Pharisees! Those d—d, gossiping—" "Oh, my dear!" She laughed again at this familiar vehemence. "1 went to Darbury," he explained briefly. Her laughter fled. "You went to Darbury, Alan?" She glanced appre hensively Into his grim face. "What— what happened?" He remained silent for a moment, then met her eyes with a smile. "Well . . . No deaths occurred." "Did—did mother—say—?" "There was a very free, candid In terchange of opinion! I honestly tried to reconcile ,vour mother, but"—he gave one of his old careless shrugs— "she considers herself disgraced, and talks darkly of being obliged to leave Darbury. ... I saw Rochdale, too—" Barbara • raised her head again. "Ah ! Dear old Hugh! He has been — splendid, Alan. His friendship—his struggle to —to—believe —" Her vilce quavered. "I know. And he, of everybody con cerned, might with justness have con demned —" j> They fell silent awhile, each know ing, by their own Joy, what it all meant to the friend who had lost. . . . A realization of what this return would mean to Mrs. Field combined with her own overwhelming Joy to draw from the very depths of her heart a voiceless prayer met thanks giving. In the luminous, darkened jltfeß \ "Oh, Don't 1" Cried the Girl. eyes that met her own, she saw the same look of almost reverent awe. Never' had be seemed ao gloriously alive, ao radiant In spirit. Again she raised her handa to feel the features she had never thought to aee again; then drew the dear head, with pas sionate tenderness, down "to her breast, and ciaaped It there. . . . To both of them, beneath the super ficial lightness of talk, thla hour equaled In sacredness that- of their marriage morning In the dawn But thla held in It, alao, the half-fearful Joy of a resurrection. The past dark ness, with the straggle toward the light, had left Ineffaceable marks upon each aoul. . . . "Can't we go back to the Island r* she whispered at last. "Some day." He raised his head and smiled. "We'll retire there, now and then, and live It all again! But our Brat Jaunt la to Auatralla. I've hewn commissioned to rebuild the old but. There'a been an awful lot of Interviewing and publicity since I got back ten dnya ago—" "Only ten daya! And you're been to Darbury—** "That's not'all." He looked at her with eyes which held something of their old Inscru tability. "Your relations itiowed unflattering surpriae at what they termed my "con stancy" now we are rescued. Oh. lord I" "Tliey would!" she cried, with In dignation. "The fear that we meant braxenl> to defy the English law poaaaased them. They besought me to marry you "prop erly, la a church.' Your aunt particu larly Inatsted upon a Protestant church —not a registry office, or chapel." "Just Ilka Aunt Mary!" She laagbod rather bitterly. "I couldn't feel — more marrieJ," she added, with the quick shy look he loved. Hlj gray eyes darkened; with a little catch of the breath big arms tightened. "There's one thing, therefore, wblcli bold bad barons must have In their pockets when they chase their victims to Darbury, to prove their good In tent." "What is that?" "A special license. I know a parson near here. We haven't met for eight years; but t wired this morning to tell him we should arrive at his church to be married tomorrow— '* "My dear whirlwind!" she gasped. He bent, with his old violent sudden ness, and caught her up so close she could scarcely breathe. All the old passionate, dominating love, which had so often swept her away, poured forth and surrounded her; so that, panting and glorying, her Individuality, after all its lonely travail, once more transfused, transformed Into his own. "So," he whispered, "we must have another wedding, my Beloved! But It cannot be more beautiful —more real— than the other in the dawn—" "With a little sobbing, tremnlous sigh, she clung close. . . . "If we had one every year, in every land and every tongue," she murmured whim slcnlly, "they would all seem beauti ful to me." The landlady discreetly entered at last to Jay the supper. She cast one comprehensive glance at the armchair, and her smiling face grew more radi ant. "We are to be married in the morn ing." Alan remarked. Cornish people take life calmly. They do not lose their heads or forget their duties In any crisis. "Yes, sir!" Mrs. Tregutheran agreed brightly. Tni sure I du hope you will both be happy. And —will you have eggs tu breakfast, sir—or bacon?" "Both—heaps!" They smiled at each other when she left the room. "Somebody must feed us." he ob served, passing his fingers through her curly hair. "Every little note has Its niche." • ••*•••• Hugh sat long over a lonely break fast, a few days later. The "old peo ple" were away. The London paper, with Its list of marriages, lay upon the table before him; ljut he stared away absently, through the window, without turning the page. ... Presently, with gun and dogs, he stepped out Into the raw February air, turning aimlessly down a lane. . . . An hour later, followed closely by six puzzled brown eyes, he walked slowly up the pathway In the little wood where—aeons ago—he and Barbara had discussed their honeymoon. The gun still rested unused within his am, the cartridges untouched within their bag. , . . Underfoot, the fir needles lay soft and damp with here and there fronds of sodden dead bracken drooping upon them. The tali pines swayed a little, whispering their everlasting, murmur ous Song; dropping, sometimes, splashes from their leaves, like tears, upon the drearinfefes below. All the world appeared gloomy, dead, sor rowful. It seemed Impossible that, soon, the sap would run in the tall trees, the young green shoot forth upon the hedges, spring—with its fresh myriad life—awake with the "singing of birds." . . . The unloaded gun dropped unheeded to the ground. . . . The six brown eyes questioned one another wonder- Ingly; then looked hack at the tweed clad figure lying face downward, wltb head hurled in his arms. . 1, At last Shag, Hugh's favorite ter rier, ever the most tender-hearted of friends, approached cautiously; sniffed; then gently licked what was visible of a much-loved cheek. (THE END.) , T~' F can out Old Church This year sees the three hundred and sixty-fourth anniversary of the demo lition of the magnificent Church of St. John ai Perth, the restoration of which Is now contemplated. This is without doubt one of the most Interesting churches In Scotland, says the Weekly Edinburgh Scotsman. Tradition ascribes Its foundation to the Plcts. but, whoever founded It, It Is one of the earliest stone churches built h) the country; and. In the Twelfth and Thirteenth centuries, as evinced, both by sndent documents and by the surviving remnants of the edifice of that time. It was magnificent and extensive. The monk of Dunferm line. to wbntn it was granted, allowed ;Jt to fall Into disrepair—a state of af fairs which Kobert the Bruce set about remedying, but the restoration was stayed by his death. Odd Quail in Borneo ■The long, hairy, reddiah crest gives ibS moderately sized. rich green plum aged greenwood quail a distinguished appearance, says Nature Magaslne. In Ita native hannta, from Slam to Bor neo and Java. It Is a lover of the tropical forest up to a* altitude of 4jooo feet, and seldom visits the span country. "Veni, Vidi, Vici" By PHILIP E. STEVENSON . I© by Weslcfn Newspaper Union.) * ( T KNOW Just what you're going to tell uie," I said to my friend An dre, wliom I saw looking at me with his confidential smile. "Of course you are in the midst of another' afTair of the heart, and it-was in this ca/ethat — "I met her!" Andre finished for me. "Yes! Precisement!" We sat, my friend and I, at one of the outdoor tables, on the Avenue de Ciichy, Paris —table at which I had lis tened to so many of Andre's tales of conquest. For Andre was handsome, romantic, foolish and Impulsive enough to make an ideal lover. "Well, what is sb 6 this time?" I asked. "Seems to me you've been tangled up in everything but an actress. Thank goodness, you've been original enough to escape so far." To begin with," gaid Andre, "she is an actress." I could not help giving a start. "But oh ! mon ami, if only you—" "Wait! Walt!" I cried, recovering my senses. "Are you sure that you could not sum up the entire experience in three words as usual?" Andre raised his brows. "I mean. 'Veni, vidl, vici'?" Here Andre lapsed into French to tell me, with a mad enthusiasm, that Ginette's hair was like wavelets on the Seine beneath dark woods at twilight; her eyes, reflections of Sirius in a quiet pool; her lips, lily-petals stained with the lnnocen| blood of a child. "Yes! I was in love. It was a squash—no, a—what in Eng lish? Yes, a crush —love at first sigfit, and when I escorted her home I asked if I might come in. 1 was l>aif pre pared for a refusal (after all, she knew me so little!), but she dazed me by her answer: 'Oh, monsieur, it is so late, mother will be In bed.' "Figure yourself. An actress, living in Montniarte, saying such a thing. I had thought such virtue existed only In bad novels, not in bad actresses. But I saw her again last week in front of a Jewelry shop on the rue de la Palx. It was only a hump—no,-a hunch, that had brought me there. I lifted my hat and Inquired what interested her, and surprised her Into a truthful answer: 'That little—wedding ring—there, mon sieur, underneath the pendant. But refusing to take such a naive answer for less than profound punning, I raked up a cynicism. 'Remember, mademoi selle,' I said, 'the proverb which says that the marriage ceremony is the burial service of love.' "But—would jou believe It? her eyes only filled with tears, and she said: "Then love Is not for me, monsieur. . . . Yet you are wrong, wrong!' And she saved herself—no, fled. x "I was sour—l mean, sore. I would have her yet. She would surrender to me, Andre. Fancy her teaching me life. Pah!" Andre stopped, pinching bis nose again with his fingers, suddenly thoughtful. As for me, I was dis gusted with his st'ory. Always before Andre had dealt with victims who un derstood and welcomed his intentions; but this time the affair had the flavor of seduction. "I «ee you are impatient," he con tinued at last. "I shall briefly note our little dinner together soon after, and the taxi ride to her house when I found she loved me. Now she lay trem bling in my arms like a frightened bird . . . refusing to admit •, , Followed another rhapsody In French, voluble, brilliant, agitated. "Yesterday I met her again and consented to meet her mother. Figure yourself. She left me In the flat with her old mother while she went out to buy some Jam for tea. Madame Dore is one of those admirable little old women of Brittany that you associate with fog and melan choly tiny fishing Tillages; she was sturdy and eternal, with a mixture of simplicity and wisdom In her eyes. "I began by complimenting her on her daughter, and she launched forth Into a tirade: 'Oh, monsieur!' —and she joined her hands —'she Is all my life, my comfort, since my Jules, my bus band, diejJ. She has told me—and about that dreadful day at the Lapln. She likes you. monsieur, much. And what a darling wife —' • "Do yon perceive? The same thing again! tfet— l was not angry, only quiet, thoughtful, I do not know why. . . . Whea it was time to leave, my plans were all 'ranged. ... Ah! but I am stupid, stupid, and of a stupidity." Andre seemed crestfallen. "I might have' told the story lb three words after all. You see, I —" "Came," I supplied. "I saw," said he. "You conquered," I said dryly; bat I thought, "seduced." "Concurred," be said. "But you mean 'conquered.'" "I mean 'concurred.'" "You mispronounced," 1 asserted with touchy shortness, and spelled the word out for him. "Precisely wrong," said Andre, smil ing broadly. "Does not 'concur' mean 'agree' or 'act in concert?" Yon. an American, should know. Pah! wake up, mon cher!" he cried, punching me from across the table. "Nom de monx, bow you are stuplde! I am going to marry her. and I want you to see me through!" Some minutes later | was brought to with the stream of a siphon and. still laughing. Andre led me out into the air. Depend a "Willie, how much is 4 and 4?" "It depends. In school It's 8, but when dad prints It It's 44—h*'s a tigs Later." „ °&y! More and more house wives are turning to Snow King Baking Powder. They like it because it's so reliable. Its high quality ap peals, too. A25-ounce , can costs only 25 cents. SltOWud Kin£l Cabbage Plants "Froafproof." All leading varletlea. I.OOt to 4,000 at 11.16 par 1,000; MOO and over at 11.00 per 1.000. Pay poatage or expreaa charges on arrival. Prlcea poet paid; 160, oc: 600, 11.10. Nice high-grade planta. Prompt ahlpment. Safe arrival guaranteed. 'How to Car* for Plante" nent with order. Agenta wanted. BEINHABDT PLANT CO MP ANT. Box W. ABHBCBN, GEORGIA. RANGES The name • Allan* on a range signifies 25 years at range mailing experience. Building consistently good ranges accounts for the ever Increasing popularity of Allen Ranges. AaJt jma dealer or mritm na for nutmlaj madnmiTm naar yon. ALLEN MFO. COMPANY Nashville H«K Tenneeeee W. N. U, CHARLOTTETNQ. 10-1925. Low-cost. Transportation Star @1 Cars % i More Power |HMn^^H|y On »mi iiw The Million Dollar Motor of the Car for the Millions MORE than a million dollars worth of special machinery, dies, tools and instruments of precision are used exclusively in the production of the Star motor, which has these outstanding dual ity features: Honed Cylinder* Double Adjustment Carburetor Lapped Piston Pin* Vacuum Fuel Feed SUent Chain Drive Gaa Tank at Rear Light Weight Pistons Hot Spot Manifold Bronze Bushed Rods Removable Valve Guides Mirror Finished Bearings 100% Machined Fly Wheel Forced Feed Lubrication Fitted to ace i^i. STAB CAR PRICES, /. a. b. Lomdng. Micfc. TOUWNO $340 2-DOOR SEDAN . . . S7«o ROADSTER $540 4-DOOR SEDAN . . . *B2O COUPE $715 COMMERCIAL CHASSIS $445 DURANT MOTORS • INC • Broadway at 57th Street, New York Dmbn smd Strict Sutitmi Tlmmtktal ti, Umind Sum W r Plana: EUabcdiiN.J. Uoaot.Mkh. • Oakland.Cal. • Toronto. Ont Grow Hair On Your Bald Head *«• »ad «aa» rtiMdln to fl crow hair, that ba*a fat lad 7 Now ■ try Pant** Original Bar*-to-Hair. ■ im hair on roar baM haad. Orac Staraa aa4 Bartar Skapa. I W. H. Forst, Mfg. BCOTTDALE, PA I CartMoaa4aaea Oh*. rmwl Attaatlaa. DEMAND "BAYER" ASPIGIN Aspirin Marked With "Bayer Cross" Has Been Proved Safe by Millions. Warning! Unless yon see the name "Bayer" on package or on tablets yon one not getting the genuine Bayer Aspirin proved safe by millions and prescribed by physicians for 23 years. Say "Bayer" when you buy Aspirin. Imitations may prove dangerous.—Adv. Hit Two Objectt B. H. Simmons, the new president of the New York Stock exchange, wns defending the American business man. Mr. Simmons, nephew of the late K. H. Harriman, said: "Our highbrows accuse the Ameri can business man of havlig only one object In life —namely, the resolve to be a millionaire at thlrty-Hve. This Is false, utterly false. The American business man has two objects In life. "His first object, admittedly, Is the resolve to be a .millionaire at thirty five. *Hls second and far more aspiring object Is the resolve to be a multimil lionaire at forty." "CASCARETS" FOR LIVER AND BOWELS—IOc A BOX Don't Stay Dizzy, Bilious, Headachy, Sick or Constipated. . —Feel fine! Let ■ "Cascarets" clean r : your bowels and —~2_ stimulate your liver. • No griping W or overacting. Mll §JjL '"s?* Ski lions of . men, women, and cnll ' dren take this ■== s = harmless laxa tive-cathartic. It doesn't sicken you like pills, oils, calo mel and salts. Tastes nice—acta won derful. Sold at drug stores. Dolla of Long Ago Every once In a while these modern days, the people of the world discover that some of their vaunted inventions are not so new after all. Dr. George Byron Gordon, director of the University of Pennsylvania mu seum, said that the museum today con tains specimens of dolls dating from 3600 B. C. In one collection there Is a set of dishes —doll dishes —dating from 4500 B. C. There are toy chariots, toy horses, toy drivers. Roman By* Balaam. applied at night upon retiring, wIU freahen and etrenrthen area by morning. 11l Pearl St., N* T. Adv. Traveling Libraries More than 500,000 books were cir culated last year in Saskatchewan by the traveling libraries that reach the settlers and the smaller municipalities. There are more than 1,000 of these li braries. It Is said that each book Is read by 17 families in the course of the year.
The Alamance Gleaner (Graham, N.C.)
Standardized title groups preceding, succeeding, and alternate titles together.
March 5, 1925, edition 1
6
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