THE NEWS, CHAPEL
VERY WEAKLY FOR
SEVERAL YEARS
North Carolina Lady Describe*
the Symptoms From Which
She Suffered and Which
She Says Cardui
Relieved.
Trap Hill, N. C.—Mrs. Eudora Hol
brook, recently made this statement:
“I was very weakly for three or four
years with womanly troubles. I was
much worse at special times. Every
month I would have to lie in bed for
three or four days.
My chief suffering was in my back.
I could not tell how badly it ached,
but it seemed as if it could not pos
sibly ache worse. Whenever I would
get tired, or if I was much on my
feet, it would ache. Cardui was all
the medicine I took.
I saw, with the first bottle, that I
was being benefited, but I kept right
on for five bottles regularly. By this
time I was so I could do all my own
work, which for some time I had not
been able to do.
That is the only time I ever took
It regularly, but I always have it on
hand to use when I do not feel well
and it always helps me.”
With a successful record of over 40
years to its credit, Cardui has proven
its merit in the treatment of many
of the simple ailments peculiar to
women.
Try it. At your druggists.—Adv.
Entirely Separate.
Millie—“You have no business to
kiss me.” Billie—“I never combine
business with pleasure.”
UP A SINGIN’!
Tomorrow will be clear
and bright, if you take
“Cascarets” tonight
Feeling half-sick, bilious, consti
pated? Ambition way below zero?
Here is help! Take Cascarets tonight
for your liver and bowels. You’ll wake
up clear, rosy, a M nd full of life. Cas
carets act without griping or incon
venience. They never sicken you like
CaloiflMMkOil or nasty, harshly
pills. so little too—Cas-
carets 5W|IWhile you sleep.—Adv.
Keeps Them Interested, Anyhow.
A habitual falsifier always seems
able to get a number of people inter
ested in the hope that some day they’ll
catch him in the truth.
CREAM FOR CATARRH
OPENS UP NOSTRILS
Tells How to Get Quick Relief
from Head-Colds. It’s Splendid!
In one minute your clogged nostrils
will open, the air passages of your
head will clear and you can breathe
freely. No more hawking, snuffling,
blowing, headache, dryness. No strug
gling for breath at night; your cold
or catarrh will be gone.
Get a small bottle of Ely’s Cream
Balm from your druggist now. Apply
a little of this fragrant, antiseptic,
healing cream in your nostrils. It pen-
ertates through every air passage of
the head, soothes the inflamed or
swollen mucous membrane and relief
comes instantly.
It’s just fine. Don’t stay stuffed-up
with a cold or nasty catarrh—Relief
comes so quickly.—Adv.
Making Progress.
“Yes, I’m a teacher now.”
“How are you getting along?”
“Well, I’m learning.”
If You Need a Medicine
You Should Have the Best
Have you ever stopped to reason why
it is that so many products that are ex
tensively advertised, all at once' drop out
of sight and are soon forgotten? The
reason is plain—the article did not fulfill
the promises of the manufacturer. This
applies more particularly to a medicine.
A medicinal preparation that has real
curative value almost sells itself, as like
an endless chain system the remedy is
recommended by those who have been
benefited, to those who are in need of it.
A prominent druggist says “Take for
example Dr. Kilmer’s Swamp-Root, a
preparation I have sold for many years
and never hesitate to recommend, for in
almost every case it shows excellent re
sults, as many of my customers testify.
No other kidney remedy has so large a
sale.”
According to sworn statements and
verified testimony of thousands who have
used the preparation, the success of Dr.
Kilmer’s Swamp-Root is due to the fact,
so many people claim, that it fulfills al
most every wish in overcoming kidney,
liver and Bladder ailments; corrects uri
nary troubles and neutralizes the uric
acid which causes rheumatism.
You may receive a sample bottle of
Swapip-Root by Parcels Post. Address
Dr. Kilmer & Co., Binghamton, N. Y.,
and enclose ten cents; also mention this
paper. Large and medium size bottles
for sale at all drug stores.--Adv.
The auto that attempts flying is apt
to turn turtle.
I WHITE MAN
Author of “Home" "Through Stained Glass,
(Copyright, 1919, by Bobbs-Merrill Co.)
ANDREA IS SAVED BY WHITE MAN’S CLEVER MARKSMANSHIP.
Andrea Pellor, handsome daughter of Lord Pellor, impecunious aristocrat.
Is doomed to marry an. illiterate but wealthy middle-aged diamond mine owner.
She disconsolately wanders from her hotel in South Africa, and discovers an
aviator about to fly from the beach. Impulsively, of course imagining that the
trip will be merely a pleasant excursion, she begs to be taken for a flight,
although she does not know him. He somewhat unwillingly agrees, and they
start. When she realizes her unknown aviator is not going back Andrea in
desperation tries to choke him with one of her stockings. He thwarts her and
they sail on into the very heart of Africa. Landing in an immense craal,
Andrea finds the natives all bow in worship to her mysterious companion. She
is given a slave boy, “Bathtub,” and the White Man sets about building a hut
for her. White Man continues deaf to Andrea’s pleadings to be restored to
her friends. She goes on a day’s hunting trip with White Man and thoroughly
enjoys the exciting experience. Andrea, worrying over her deplorable lack
of change of clothing, is surprised and delighted when a trunk, loaded with
everything in the way of clothing dear to the feminine heart, is dropped at her
doorway by stalwart natives and she is told by White Man that they are hers.
White Man by a skillful shot saves her from the attack of a sable bull and
she is fast becoming reconciled to her fate after eight days in the craal.
CHAPTER VI.—Continued.
“Certainly,” he answered, absorbed
in his topic. “Exchanged where
there’s another daughter available;
where there isn’t, money is refunded
by order of the courts. But what I
was driving at is that in spite of the
contention mentioned above, wherever
a woman is concerned a black can
never get it out of his head that she
can be replaced at the regular market
price. Now you’ve got the kernel of
his whole attitude toward women.”
“So if it had been you they wouldn’t
have laughed and yelled.”
“In this case, yes,” he said. “They
most certainly would, because they
had no direct responsibility. But
where responsibility attaches the rule
for men is a life for a life, and it’s a
rule that has no exceptions. Anyone
can brain a woman if he feels like it
and get away with the identical obolo
her husband paid for her.”
“You seem to be a great admirer of
the native social system,” said Andrea
quietly.
“I am,” answered M’sungo. “For
natives, of course.”
“Are you sure you’re not a bit taint
ed with it for yourself?”
“Sure,” he answered promptly.
“That’s part of the secret of my grip
on every country I’ve shot over. I’m
aloof. I’ve never turned my back on
the White Man’s God. Circular A is
not for me.”
“What’s Circular A?”
He hesitated. '“Circular A,” he said
finally, “is the regulation that governs
the relations between British officials
under the colonial office and the wom
en of the tribes they govern.”
“I’m British,” said Andrea, after a
pause, “and I blush for the necessity.”
“You are prompt, like most of us,”
said M’sungo, “to sit in judgment be
fore any force of nature that you’ve
never felt. Poor devils of clean-bred
youngsters! Take one that I knew.
Three weeks’ training under his prede
cessor, crazy to leave; a hundred
thousand natives under his sole rule;
one, perhaps two, bearded white faces
a year. The long, long days after the
sportsman has been swallowed by the
pot-hunter, when game becomes just
meat! And then, the fatal hour at
dusk when a passing native girl—any
girl—looks to him like some woman at
home! He marries, not by canonicals
perhaps, but by the common law of
the land, and the ‘people at home’
shout ‘crucify him,’ but in the end it’s
God alone that will judge his agony
and measure the price.”
He stopped speaking and for a long
time they traveled in silence. The sun
was sinking fast—so fast that it
seemed to be dropping by jerks, like
the loose hand of a grandfather’s
clock.
“There is no twilight in the tropics,”
said M’sungo, “by the deliberate judg
ment of God who knows the capacity
get in one more nasty bit of cleverness
before—before I died!”
“Oh, no,” protested M’sungo. “Go
easy, now. Why, Marguerite has done
that dozens of times. He knows ex-
actly how to slice off his rider,
besides, he always stops.”
“But what if he hadn’t—what
had?” continued Andrea hotly,
you know what I mean. What
had killed me?”
And
if he
“Oh,
if he
“But he wouldn’t,” insisted the man
weakly. “He wouldn’t think of it.”
Andrea pounded the horn of her sad
dle. “But—what—if—he—had?”
M’sungo suddenly whirled, thereby
winding the quiescent neck of Mar
guerite around his waist. He caught
Andrea by both arms and fixed her
startled eyes with the blaze of his
own. “You will have it!” he said,
shaking her lightly, “your d per
sonal element! Well, I’ll give it to you.
If he’d hurt so much as a hair of your
head I’d have shot him and then my
self and left word with you to bury us
both in the same grave.”
. She flushed and looked away. When
her eyes came back to his set face
there were three kinds of , sparkling
wickedness in them—tenderness, the
forked tongue of a serpent, and a two-
edged knife. She chose the knife.
“White Man,” she said, “that would
have been adorable at the price—sim
ply adorable!”
By
GEORGE AGNEW
CHAMBERLAIN
'John Bogardus,” Etc.
pleading in the tone of her voice made
him turn boldly to the personal, after
all, and however much we may jeer at
it, the ultimate measure of sincerity.
“I will,” he said. “If ever I’m bent on
plundering the heart of a woman, I’ll
travel the highroad of surrender in
the company of ravage and love. I’ll
give and still give and with each giv
ing will grow the heaped mountain of
my demands. You see it, don’t you?
That’s justifiable plunder.”
Andrea’s cheeks flushed, her eyes
were dreamy with new thoughts and
old emotions.
While the supply of the vast larder
and the supervision of the fiber camp
formed the major part of M’sungo’s
untiring industry they were by no
means the total of his affairs. Watch
ing him, Andrea soon learned why he
never lunched. He hadn’t the time;
too many things pressed to his atten
tion. He was a governor on no mean
scale and during the midday rest hour
he would pass from group to group
settling all those disputes which could
be determined without recourse to
legal argument. In this manner he
sifted to a minimum the cases to come
before the solemn conclave of chiefs.
On the first occasion that Andrea
witnessed this tribal ceremony which
occurred monthly at a certain stage of
the moon, she began by feeling huffed
but, lacking an audience for her mood,
soon gave it up for one of scornful
amusement which, in turn, surrendered
to an interest that almost amounted to
awe. The day in question began with
the curt information from M’sungo,
who appeared carefully groomed and,
fol- the first time in her experience,
dressed in punctilious mufti, that she
would have to amuse herself for
twelve hours without his aid. Mysti
fied, she awaited developments, and
they came—rapidly.
Under the great acacia was placed
a table and behind it a camp armchair.
To the right and left of this throne of
of the chart of man and would
have it burst.”
“I can feel what you mean,”
swered Andrea, “even though
haven’t really said it in words.
not
an-
you
The
heart can hold just so much beauty
and no more; and even now, mine is
aching!”
“Andrea Pellor,” said M’sungo, “you
have the faculty of your sex.
have pinned the butterfly.”
You
She felt a sudden revulsion, a rage
at this man, this stranger, who talked
as she imagined he would fight, with
out gloves. Her eyes narrowed. “By
the way, when Marguerite bolted, just
what was it you shouted at me?”
He paused in his stride so suddenly
that the dozing donkey butted into him
and almost knocked him over. “Eh?
What?” he asked to gain time.
“Come on,” persisted Andrea. “Just
say it again—what you shouted.”
“Well,” lied M’sungo, “I may not
remember the exact words, but it was
to the effect that you’d
him off or jump off.”
“Something like that,”
incisively, “only shorter.
‘Marry him or jump off!’ :
“I believe you’re right,’
better head
said Andrea
You yelled,
said M’sun-
go, and added, apologetically, “You
see, I didn’t have much time to think.”
“Exactly!” said Andrea. “Instinc
tively all you saw was a joke, like
every nigger in the line. You didn’t
care what happened to me. I might
have been brained under that tree
and you knew it and all you could
think of was that you just had time to
The weeks that followed were the,
remaking of Andrea physically. Eac^
day (she walked 1 more atd felt it les™
From head to toes her body was with
out blemish and in her eyes, her
cheeks and in the spring of her light
step, sheer health flew its rejoicing
banner. Day by day she followed
M’sungo farther afield, took more of
an interest in what he was doing be
cause she understood it better and
learned to wait before she sat in judg
ment on his actions, often surprising,
always swift and assured. She even
hardened herself to accompanying him
on his hunts for meat for the -camp
pot and there was nothing that he did
that gave her a deeper insight into his
composition than this same butcher
ing.
He made no secret of his distaste
for the job and never an apology. Hav
ing a disagreeable task on his hands
he faced it squarely and going out to
kill, laid his plans, held to them with
unswerving concentration and killed
with a dispatch that was blood-cur
dling but admirable.
It was during the return from one
of these expeditions that he expound
ed his definition of justifiable plunder.
With his memory raw, as is the whole
world’s, from contact with the long-
heralded Superman come to life to ex
pose in the flesh the brutalizing doc
trine of “thine is mine if I can take
it,” he found himself on treacherous
ground and his words picked their
way slowly as though bent on avoid
ing all misunderstanding.
“It is the truth,” he said thought
fully, “that the spirit of man advances
only by plunder and the -corollary to
that is the fact that the plundered
world is always the more fruitful, but
the unpardonable sin as far as peoples
are concerned is the failure to define
robbery under arms from productive
plunder, and you can almost say the
same thing of individual relationship.”
He glanced at her and something of
his earnestness passed to her with the
look. “Go on,” she said kindly.
“Can you believe me,” he continued,
“when I tell you that no one was more
surprised than the Superman himself
when he assumed flesh after his long
preparation and awoke to find himself
a Vandal—a Frankenstein? The theory
was perfect—all that was lacking
were the things .of the spirit, the
breath of life without which any ani
mated creation becomes automatically
a monster.
“Ami yet the collective spirit of man
advam.es only I " plunder. You can
se^ : in my own country, yesterday,
1^ -.. a. today and it will come in the
Dispensing Justice With a Breathless
Rush.
justice stood in a crescent fourteen
other seats of varying dignity—chairs,
petroleum cases, kerosene tins and an
inverted bucket—for every native
king, be he monarch of but one vil
lage, has the right to sit in the pres
ence of authority, whatever its grade.
The white man took the armchair and
immediately, to the rumble of a dozen
tom-toms, a horde of natives—all men
—swarmed into the beaten
the craal.
Those natives who lacked
hall-mark were squatting
court of
the royal
on their
oti " Americas
irrow. The great-
evider
dang
g men, v s that ruins are
,i r -mpation and that
Tam •• e-s us face to face
ke . , k of the road
‘ uii, While Man,” said Andrea, he?
b; . puckered with internal effor!.
“please ap- :. ; To Wividuals.”
Ik si anted to . ■ her to km tradh
tions.of her sex . : something truly
heels in a vast mass of serrated and
concentric circles of which the inner-
most left an open space whose peri
phery was determined by the exact
circumference of the wide-spreading
branches of the tree. Andrea coughed
softly but M’sungo did not look up—in
fact, nobody looked up. It was ex
actly as though she were not. She
slipped to the trunk of a tree and
leaned on one hand placed against it.
Somehow it seemed an only friend in
an empty world.
The preliminary palaver was a mat
ter of much leisurely ceremony, gut
tural pronouncements, grunts, pauses,
more monologues, repeated grunts;
but, once it was over, M’sungo settled
back -with a sigh and started dispens-
: ng justice with a breathless rush that
reminded one of the manner in which
he dispatched' game.
It seemed to Andrea that he never
aited to hear mo,re than, the state
ment. of the offense when he would im-
. iately pronounce sentence. “Twen-
7 lashes; next! Thirty lashes; next!
elve lashes; next,” at the rate of
about a case for every two minutes.
Nine times out of ten the victim would
smile sheepishly and withdraw; in the
tenth case there would come a look of
sullen wonder into the culprit’s face,
whereupon the white man would
promptly call a halt and demand more
evidence. Such cases were then al
lotted half an hour and even an hour
each, and without exception resulted
in the acquittal of the prisoner at the
bar.
Andrea was suddenly aware of
M’sungo’s voice indubitably addressed
to her though he kept his eyes to the
front and spoke in a toneless mono
logue as if he were communing with
himself. “Behold! Psychology on the
job,” he said. “Watch their faces.
Every native that knows his sentence
to be just, takes it with an apologetic
smile; if he looks sullen, the chances
are a hundred to one that he’s inno
cent. I’ve never gone wrong. They
think I’m a wonder. Next!”
One c^e alone that day was appar
ently interminable. When at last it
was completed M’sungo dropped his
eyes for the first time and sat for a
long while with bowed head; then he
drew erect, looked the prisoner in the
eye and spoke three words. A gray
hue crept into the black’s face as he
turned away. “I have surrendered him
to the justice of his tribe,” murmured
M’sungo. “Poor devil!” And Andrea
knew that she had witnessed the pre
cursor to an inevitable sentence of
death.
That night M’sungo was too tired to
talk and excused himself immediately
after dinner. Andrea read until her
eyes ached and then went to bed won
dering if she were feeling only slight
ed or if existence were actually be
coming monotonous. She shrank from
the latter admission for she knew
that, once made, it would shatter the
longest run of sheer peace of spirit
which she had experienced in her short
but much bored life. She need not
have worried. When she stepped out
early next morning dressed for the
field in compliance with a message
from M’sungo to put on her roughest
and toughest she was so excited that
even the memory of her doubt was
blotted from her mind. Something was
in the air of the craal that could be
felt rather than heard, the sort of
something that one c'ouTd imagine pos
sessing a hive just before it began to
hum.
M’sungo was already sitting under
the dining tree engaged in a diminu
tive palaver with three wizened blacks
who squatted on the ground squint
ing up at him and speaking in turn
in answer to his patient questioning.
Around them but at a. respectful dis
tance were gathered various members
of the camp’s personal staff. On the
faces of the wizened three and also on
M’sungo’s was the same look of
fanatical exaltation, the look that pro
claims any group of diverse men
brothers at heart.
“What is it?” asked Andrea, breath
less from hurrying.
“Elephant,” replied M’sungo. He
drew a chair to his side. “Sit down,”
he said softly as one whose mind is
half-narcotized and fearful of losing
the dream, “Watch and listen, for
these men bring great tidings.” He
smiled almost like a boy.
One of the wizened produced a thin
wand, about twenty inches in length,
freshly broken at one end. He passed
it to his companions; who stared at it
as though they saw it for the first in
stead of the hundredth time, fingered
it, gurgled over it and finally gravely
handed it to M’sungo. He went through
more or less the same process and re
turned it to the man who first pro
duced it with what was apparently a
slighting remark.
The man glanced up with a pained
look on his face, arose, laid the wand
on the ground as a measure and with
laborious fingers began to trace a
mighty oval. M’sungo leaned across
the table and gazed with fascinated
eye; Andrea, watching him, could see
the pulse throbbing at his temples. He
was a new M’sungo, somebody young,
approachable, lovable, an eager boy.
She leaned close to his shoulder.
“Please, White Man,” she murmured,
“please tell me.”
Without turning he put one hand
out and grasped her wrist as though
to still her. “The little man,” he ex
plained, “is drawing the spoor of a
mighty beast. Look at it and learn it
by heart, for it will be a photograph.”
Having completed the circumference
of his oval, the native was making
various tracings on its face, dividing it
as with a maze of tracks. When he
had apparently finished, he sank back
on his heels and gazed critically at >his
handiwork.
“Watch,” said M’sungo. “Before he
gets up, he’ll put in some mark, some
distinctive feature that distinguishes
this spoor from all others.”
No sooner had he spoken than the
black leaned forward and with a sure
touch deepened two of the cracks till
they formed a long narrow V running
diagonally half across the oval. That
done he turned abruptly from his
drawing, joined his comrades, turned
his back on M’sungo and unstoppering
a cartridge case, proceeded to tak'i
snuff.
M’sungo straightened with a long
quivering sigh. “It is well,” he said in
dialect, “We will go.” The three
wizened men nodded their heads many
times and grunted. With no further
instruction, gunbearers, water boys,
trackers and Marguerite’s attendant
scattered to their various prepara
tions, hindered by excited women and
children. The camp hummed. Bathtub
slapped breakfast on the table and
then stood on one foot, then on the
other in impatience. On the faces of'
all was the same half-smile, the same-
look of suppressed but mighty antici
pation.
M’sungo ate a few mouthfuls but
they seemed to choke him. He pushed
back his plate, stuffed his pipe full
and lit it. His eyes played over An
drea’s face and fired hers with their
own brilliance. When he spoke every
word thrilled her as though this won
derful morning were surcharged with
an emotional current sensitive to
every sound and movement. *
“Andrea Pellor,” he said with a hap
py twinkle of mock solemnity in his
glance, “you are about to be initiated
into the mysteries of the major guild
of many centuries, the closest corpo
ration of sport in the world; in thre^
words, the society of elephant huntei s.
You will probably witness death and I
hope and pray it will be the deatl of
the hunted, but for the comfort of
your soft heart let me tell you that to
day we go forth not to slaughter but
to battle.”
He turned his eyes from her face-
and continued in a more serious
strain: “The hunting of elephant is a
science. It is a crescendo of delicate
ly balanced factors that starts from
two distant points and beginning on a
cool foundation of mutual respect
passes upward through stages of in
telligence against intelligence, caution
for caution, perseverance on the heels
of endurance, until it meets on the
high plane of naked courage and
sweeps to its tragic climax of white-
hot battle and death.”
His eyes came back to hers frankly*
“Like all the great sciences,” he con
tinued, “it has used the lives of val
iant men for stepping-stones so that
we who go out today are backed by
the age-long sacrifice of a noble com
pany. Looking back only to the days
of black powder and the four-bore
rifle we are mere pygmies, but pyg
mies carried high on the crest of an
ancient tradition. It’s because we
have an accumulation of knowledge to
lean upon that I’m willing to take you
with me today if you’ll promise to sur
render yourself to me, to do just ex
actly what I tell you and no more and
no less.”
Eyes wide and intent, cheeks flushed
and lips parted, Andrea was too ex
cited to speak. She threw out
hands toward him in a gesture
abandon and with an imploring
that^made her look as though she
giving herself into his keeping not for
a day but for all time.
CHAPTER VII.
They started out, a skeleton caval
cade. The three wizened ones led the
way and Andrea measured their im
portance by the fact that they carried
M’sungo’s battery of rifles, respectful
ly surrendered by the gunbearers as a
fitting tribute from onlookers to men
who were hunters in their own right
M’sungo nodded toward them and
spoke to Andrea over his shoulder,
“The old boys are. my brothers in
arms and they carry the guns as a
sort of insignia. When it comes down
to business they’ll slip them to the
trained bearers.”.
Behind Andrea came Marguerite,
his attendant before and Bathtub af
ter hini; then followed the gunbearers,
a single tracker and a single water-
boy. No hangers-on were allowed
even to see the cortege from the craal.
Over one shoulder Bathtub carried
slung a cracker tin, container of all
the food allotted to the day.
In ten minutes’ march they came to
the river which,, in spite of its prox
imity to the camp, Andrea now saw
for the first time. Often she had sug
gested to M’sungo that she wished to
visit it, but on every occasion his lips
had set in a straight line and he had
invented manifold reasons for keep
ing her from its shores. The most ef
ficacious of these arguments were
snakes and crocodiles, but while she
conceded the strength of those two
sdeterrents she could not escape from
an intuitive belief that there was
something else—some other and rank
ing cause in the back of M’sungo’*’
mind.
Some thrills in the next
installment.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Concentration of Mind.
The brain of the average person is
too receptive and not positive enough,
It is swayed by every gust of emotion,
yields too easily to outside conditions,
It reproduces too easily the idle
thoughts of others, or its own phan
tasies, and avoids the effort of con
structive thinking. A complete change
in the mental habits of such a person
may open the way for unlimited future
development. Mental efficiency can
only be attained when one possesses
the power of concentrating the mind
Weak powers of concentration mean
inefficient thinking and vacillating ac
tion. Regular daily practice in concen
tration, keeping the mind centered
upon some one subject, some difficult
problem, will soon give the mind tb«
habit of constructive thinking. Pen
sist in this practice and ignore all
seeming lack of progress if you wov^
obtain the fullest •esuit”—N • ^