HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Times, 1919-10-9, Page 3soaell
A rij atikcsgi\• 1 ihasba id
"I cert'n'y do thialc, Mrs. Jones "
fibserved Mrs, Todd, "'that Loreny
Green is the queerest oretur the Lord
ever made."
Mrs, Jones, a neighbor who had
"dropped iii",to spend the day, at once
became interested .and aleft, for Miss
Green's eccentricities .third for tiany
XTM:DD•N t'he.subject of mild scandal
�•a her
,acquaintances.
fere -she goes now," Mrs. Todd
exclaimed the next instant, "traipsing
off to the bakery, I'll bet, to buy some
of them greasy pies or soggy cakes I
wouldn't give 'stomash room to.; Lor-
eny ain't lazy," she went on, as she
Slammed tlae oven door on a peach
shortcake of great magnitude, "for
her house shines, it's so clean, and
she al'ays'leaks neat as. a pin. But
she jest won't cook—there ain't a real
good. meal of victuals been cooked in
that house since she bought it ten
years ago."
"P'raps ,she can't afford to live.. dif-
ferent," suggested. Mrs, Jones'.
"You know as we!1.1 ae I do, Ann
Jones," retorted Mrs. Todd, "she could
live on hulsome home-made food for
half what she pays for 'baker's •stuff,
specially since the 'war sent prices
ieitin' up to Leaven alone knows
where. Besides, cold victualsain't fit
for .a steddy diet—Loreny's gettin'
scraggier and •sallerer every day she
lives."
"Mebbe she likes 'em better," Mrs.
Jones ventured.
"No, she don't, neither; there ain't
nobody enjoys a han'sum meal o'. hot
victuals more'n Loreny Green does.
Here she comes back again. I'm,
,a-goin' to call her in to dinner, an'
after dinner I'm a-goin' to ask her,
right out, what she means by livin'
like a heathen. I've had it on my mind
to do it for years, but somehow I
ain't quite got to the p'int—Loreny's
so kind o' stiff an' standoffish 'bout
her own affairs."
"Land, I wouldn't if I was you,"
Mrs. Jones demurred. "She'll be
nadder'n hops."
W1" But further" emonstrance was cut
Short by the entrance of Miss: Green,
znna fragile little woman who would.
have been pretty; inspite of her forty
fe•„years, if Mrs. Todds�disparaging re -
'cause you're too poor or too laey.t•
get 'em, that you don't, never have
.a .decent meal o' victuals cooked in
your house. But to tell you the truth,
Loreny,, we're just flabbergasted our-
selves to think Neu can't dive like a
Christian. It's a .shame! There's se
likely a .mess' o' wieder men in' this
town as 'you'd find anywheres, an'
more'n' one of, 'em's looked at you
pretty sharp 'since you got that last
new hat, though to my thinkin' lav-
ender ain't a mite becomin' to a ,salter
eomplected .'person like you'•re gettin'
to be. But that's nyther 'here nor
there fox no man ,alive's goin' to run.
the risk o' tstarvin' to death by marry
in' youil
During this arraignment Lorena
had been putting her knitting into the
bag in 'which she carrier!\ et, with
hands that trembled visibly, and she
now faced her accuser, with ,angry
eyes.
"I never suspicioned before:that I
was, a scandal sin' a byword among
them that pretended to be, my friends,”
•she crie(l. "But if you want to know
the reason I live the -way I do, you
can. My own mother died when I was
born, an' niy step -mother was one
of them stayers for work who never
spare themselves nor nobody else. We
lived on a farm and we boarded the
farmhands. I could stand the nest o'
the Work, but the cookin' most killed
me, ..specially durin' harvest, when
there was sixteen •o' them•to feed. So
ten years'ago, when my father an' ray
step another both died o' typhoid the
same week, I sold the farm, come here
to, live, an' vowed I'd never do any
more cookin' for myself nor for no-
body else."
She elided with a storm of tears
and rushed- from the house, although
Mrs. Jones tried to detain her by in-
effectual clutches at.her skirts. Mrs.
.Todd rocked on unconcernedly.
"I told you she'd be mad," wa'i'led
Mrs. Jones with keen reproach.
"Don't care," sad Mrs. Todd :coolly.
"She'd ought, to know how folks re-
gard such 'heathen ways. When she's
had time to calm down a little mite
we'll go ever an' set a while.
But when they attempted to carry
out this plan the little white cottage
across the garden seemed hermetically
sealed, and even the intrepid Mrs.
Todd was foiled in an attempt to i
force anaentrance' through a window,
for she found thein all locked. Lorena,.
eut to the heart, was enduring what
most of us, unless we are so unfortun-
ate as to number among our acquaint-
ances some frank and fearless soul
marks had not been justified by the like Mrs. Todd, are mercifully spared.
''facts. Miss Green was undeniably The scorching spotlight of neighborly
both "scraggy" and "seller." She opinion had been turned full upon her
and, in its lurid glare, what had -seem-
greeted her two old friends with a
ed to the little spinster,, a harmless
recompense for past suffering had be-
come an irreparable disgrace.
That night she cosi d_ not sleep, and
as she' lay, restlessly tossing and turn-
ing, in the stillness of the hour before
dawn, there came the rush and roar
of an express train thundering -
through the quiet town: The next mo-
ment Lorena heard a terrible orash,
followed by the still more _terrible
sound of human shrieks and groans.
"Oh, my soul! Oh, my .soul!" she
gasped. "The train's gone through
that trestle; I always knew it wound.."
A particularly high trestle, just,
back of Lorena's garden, had in truth
been the subject of many dire predic-
tions among the dwellers of Akron.
Lorena lighted- a lamp, hurried into
her clothes, and flung open her kit-
chen door upon a group of men bear-
ing en object so covered with dust` and
blood that it had little semblance to
•anythiing humin. In a voice quite
unlike his usual drawling accents, Mr.
Todd called excitedly:
"He's the worst hurt of any of 'em,
Loreny, so we brought hire to 'the
nearest house."
"0h, ain't it awful!" cried the little
spinster... "Is he dead?"
"Pretty nigh, poor feller;" one of
the other men answered gravely.
"Bring him. right in -here," she
commanded, 'ushering them into her
little spare chamber. They laid him
gently on the bed and then hurried off
to look for other victims of the wreck.
Mr. Todd lingered for a moment to
say: `Doctor Thomp,son's over to our
house patchin' •up some that ain't hurt
so bad as this one. I'll send him
right over.:'
"Tell him to be quick," quavered
Lorena.
Faint moans were heard from the
unconscious' man and Lorena's, tender
heart was rent. She bent over the bed
distractedly, and then pulled herself
together.
"I'll blaze a fire in the kitchen
stove, an' get some water, good an'
hot. Then, if the doctor ain't come,
I'll wash the blood an'•., dirt, off his
'face, an' pour that big bottle, 0', witch
hazel over him.- I don't know where
he's hurt, but it might hit:the''right
spot, an' it's awful healin'." e •
But before the water was hot, Doc-
tor Thompson, tig, cheery, and effl=
dent, arrived, and Lorena breathed a
sigh of relief. The doctor looked
very grave, however, when he came
out of the little room with his assist-
ant an. hour later.
"The poor fellow has reggined con-
science," he informed the group of
men and women assembled in Lorenh's
living room; for the other passengers
had proved not serlouslly injured, and
in consequence Los ena'•s home had be-
some the centro of i'n'terest. "He's a
Frenchman by the name of Jean
Bga�t7ligny. He tell , me that hes a
Act at the Pell a George .fin, Tercesto,
r.
es �a. of � he 'sad-
den
1 ds'u
and he h w rex
Wei: y
den death of it . 7bt. ie o s
a. x asp on h'
" , nn Neat *tie
wis
visiting �'
way there while 't�cf,4, Ac 4C b Maap: en -
h h8 b!Ua la jf, 'hale coin
smile that h:ad in it a touch of wist-
fulness, a touch of pathos, and accept-
ed Mrs. Todd's invitation with evident
pleasure. Moreover, when dinner was
served she partook of the corned beef,
boiled potatoes and cabbage, and
peach shortcake with a rel'i'sh that
caused her hostess to nod triumphant-
ly at Mrs. Jones.
When Mr. Todd and the four chil-
dren had departed on their respective
ways to shop and school,, the guests
helped Mrs. Todd "clear up" with such
good will that the kitchen was soon
restored to its usual state of spotless
order, and after Lorena had run acrpss
the garden to fetch her "pick -lip's,
work—a sweater destined for some
homeless Belgian child the three wo-
men settled down to rock and knit in
_the pleasant living room. After a bit
of harmless preliminary chat, Mrs.
Todd cleared her throat in a manner
that caused Mrs. Jones to twist un-
easily in her chair. But the former
lady prided 'herself •on what she called
her "tack," and she began by remark-
ing tentatively:
"Say, Loreny, I'd feel a sight safer
about you if you was married. 'Tain't
safe your livin' all alone so. The
Smithses was tel'lin' me only t'other
day that they'd had some more meat
stole out o' their shed room, an'
they're sure there's burglars, round.".
"I guess if the .- Smithses wa'n't
quite so skinlp.in' with that poor, lean
dog o' theirs they wouldn't have no
call to set a trap to catch burglars,"
replied Lorena •calmly. "An' if•'there
was burglars round, ,hem that thinks
husbands is .a means o' safety is. wel-
come to 'em. I had a „cousin once
removed on my mother's ' side," she
continued, carefully picking up a
dropped stiteh, "an' one night she an'
her husband woke up .an' saw a
a .burglar stardin' right over 'eat. He
told 'ern, -civil, •to keep still or lima
shoot. My ,cousin, like any other wo-
man on the face o' -the earth would 'a'
done, covered up her 'head with the
bedclothes end kep' still, butcher hus-
band was so abundantly foolish as to
jump right •at the burglar's throat.
The bullet struck the headboard just
half a inch above my cousin's pillow.
It was the Lord's mercy . she wa'n't
killed—not no fault o', her husband's.
Thanks be, if I've got to have. 'burg-
lars in my house l;• haven't got no.
husband round to be riskin' my life
with his forthputtin' -wean"
"Men are awful brash, that's a fact,"
Mrs. Todd admitted. "But they're
kind o' handy to have round when it
comes to shovelin' snow an' carryin'
in coal. But anyhow, Loreny, Mis""
Jones an' me said a thousand times, if
we have once, that you couldn't get
a husband if you wanted one,"
At this. base annexing of her as an
accomplice, •Mrs, Jones looked both.
alarmed'and indignant, ��vvhi:le Lorena's
sallow cheeks flushed, for no woman
under eighty enulcl listen to such an
aspersion unmoved. .
"Ann Jones an' me," con�ri,iuctd Mrs.
Todd, "have talker! till we're all wore,
slut tryin" to convince fo11:5 that'! in't e,l. , �I A 0
EAMON
FIRE WASTE' FOR YEAR
1918 IN ONTARIO
$15,673,240.
CAUSED BY 8.740, FIRES,
80 PER CENT. OF WHICH
WERE PREVENTABLE.._
DAILY BONFIRE OF
42,000 OF MER-
CHANDISE. BUILDINGS AND
FOODSTUFFS.
ACCUMULATIONS OF
RUBBISH AND LITTER
ARE A FIRE MENACE IN
HOMES. STORES AND
FACTOR I ES.
haafeeraaa
Hangers in attractive colors, similar to this. cut, may be had from your local Fire Chief, or
ONTARIO FIRE PREVENTION LEAGUE, INC., 153 University Ave., Toronto
r
France a few years ago, and he has
no other relative in this country. I
hardly think he'l'l pull through—and
if he does he may have to lose his
right ieg, for the knee is badly crush-
ed. He oughtnot to be moved. Do
you think you could keephim here?"
he asked, turning to Lorena.
"0h, yes, indeed," she :replied, with
tears in her eyes. "I'li be glad to do
anything I can for the poor man."
"We'll all help," the other women
assured her. And in fact, during the
weeks that followed; Lorena's labors
were light, for kindly neighbors
undertook the night watching, and the
invalid was ,sulfplied with quantifies
of delicious soups and jellies prepared
by the best cooks in town. Jean Boul-
igny did not die, and Doctor Thompson
saved the injured leg from amputa-
tion.
It was during the long, tedious
convalescence that Lorena's troubles
began. • Public interest in the invalid
was no longer at fever heat, and one.
day Lorene, like Old Mother Hubbard,
went to her cupboard, and found it
bare. Long ere this the pity that is
akin to love had done its work. Lorena
had forgotten her vow never again to
•become• -the sla*of.'a-coolc,stove,'*br
the patience and good humoit of the
comely Frenchman had made a deep
impression on the little spinster, and
she was' glad to expend herself in
nursing and feeding him. . But, alas,
the long years of disuse had deprived
Lorena Green of the small amount of
culinary skill she had formerly pos-
sessed. She could not even make
toast or boil potatoes properly, and as
to the decoction she called coffee, the
fearsome brew compounded by the
witches of Macbeth could scarcely
have more offended the critical palate.
of Jean Bouligny. Patient and grate-
ful though he was, a particularly bad-
ly
adly cooked meal was the proverbial
Last straw that brought matters to a
crisis. Coming to take away his tray,
Lorena saw that his dinner had been,
barely tasted.
"Didn't you like your dinner, mon-
sir?" she asked anxiously.
Although Jean spoke. fair English
ordinarily, in moments of excitement
his command,of it gave way altogeth-
er, and he now exclaimed explosively,
in a peculiar mixture of his native
tongue and Canadian slang: "Like it!
Pas 'el -bete! This •cooking So terrible
will kill me—I, Jean 'Bouligny, say it!,
Ah; Ibut I am ingrates so to repay,
your so great kindness to a stranger,
but I-mei—ani up against it, sure
Mike!"
"Oh, monsir," Lorena faltered, "I'm
so sorry, but I just hate to cook."
"Mees Green!" he gasped. . "You
hate the art of all the grandest? This
is fierce! It is the limit. Know you
not that the greatest nobles and sav-
ants of France have pent years in'
'attempts to perfect asingle sauce?
Know you not that a mighty king
deigned. to reward the success of his
cook in pleasing his royal palate by a
decoration of the most superb? Ma
foil, What do you know about that?"
The superb scorn of him eves too
much for Lorene's composure, and
bursting into tears, she sobbed out the
explanation of her aversion to the:
culinary art which she had given her
friends, Mrs. Todd and Mrs. Jones.
Jean's expression of horror and con-
tempt changed as she went on to ono
of compassion.
"Pauvre petite," he said softly. "It
is that you understand it not—lay
glorious profession. But see, Lorena,"
he went on eagerly, "in these weeks
I have learned to love dearly my kine!
,nurse, and if she will accept the poor
cripple for a 'husband she need 'never
to cook again—I, Jean Bouligny, will
cook for her so long as we both live "
Lorena was silent for sheer joy, for
when a woman is forty the knowledge4
that she is loved comes as a be:tl t..ul
surplis�d -�-s n.to ot a as ,a matter of. c, , -s_,
as itfed of t,
s ,.t. • .n
mi took her silcn c
"But you -wish not to marry the
cripple—is it not so?"
"Oh, no, no," Lorena stammered,
finding her voice at last. "I—I love
you, monsir."
"Thenall is well!" the chef ex-
claimed rapturously. And he proceed-
ed to prove that his arms, at least,
were not erippled as upon the two
humble lovers shone the light that
never was; on, sea or land, and whict
never seems so bright as to those who
have seen the shadows of a lonely old
age gathering fast.
"Shall we not marry on Thanksgiv-
ing, petite?" he urged. "What ban-
quets have I not prepared on that
great feast day of your nation! In
two weeks I can use my crutches well,
and we shall invite our friends to a
wedding breakfast such as they never
before enjoyed, and I—moi—Jean
Bouligny, shall do it all. You consent,
es it not?"
"Jest as you like, Jean," Lorena re-
sponded shyly.
Long before light on Thanksgiving
morning,' Lorena heardhtlee tap of
Jean's crutch as he went about pre-
paring their wedding feast. Iter part
of the, work was soon done, for the
little white<cottage had been swept and
garnished from attic to cellar, and
nothing remained but to fill every
nook and corner with a glory of crim-
son and purple asters that she had
gathered from her garden. ,
When the guests arrived, they
found the bride arrayed in a pretty
gown of dark blue voile, and so beauti-
fied by happiness and love that they
stared at her in amazement. The
groom was superb in .a suit of spotless
white linen, for he had donned the
uniform of his profession •so that there
might be no delay in serving dinner
after the ceremony had been per-
formed.
The stiffness which frequently at-
tends the ordeal of foslnulating grace-
ful and appropriate congratulatory
speeches was. entirely hissing on this
occasion, clue to the frantic exclama-
tion of the bridegroom; following close
on the final blessing.
"Lorena! Lorena!' he shouted. "My
crutches, tout de suite, quveek! The
gravy burns: all is lost!"
But notwithstanding the despair of
the chef at a barely perceptible burnt
flavor in the gravy, the memory of
that dinner would (long be preserved
in the annals of Akron, and when they
departed in the gathering twilight of
the short autumn Way Mrs. Todd voic-
ed the general'sentirent by remarking
loudly as the guests lingered for a
moment at the little white gate:
"Land, don't some folks luck came
to 'em buttered? To think," she added
bitterly, "of be'in' married to a man
who can cook like that, instead of to
one who, when 'his wife's flat on her
back, will git the hull house to lookin'
like a hurrah's nest, jest tryin' to bile
a mess o' potatoes."
But the ,scorn wave had ihard'ly set-
tled on Mr. Todd's guilty head when
his wife recovered cheerfulness:
"Well, there; I dunno's I grudge
Loreny her dude, for she's a real
weight off my mind. An' I shouldn't
wonder one mite if the hand e,; Provi-
dence wasn't in it. Lorena's awful
pigheaded, an' since she set out never
to do a hand's turn o'ecookin' she never
would, an' seein' things was es they
was, meb'be the Lord tipped that train
off that trestle a -purpose."
But at the very moment when Mrs.
Todd gave voice to this remarkable
surmise, Lorena, her head on her hus-
band's shoulder, was murmuring
softly:
"0h, Jean, do you s'pose, if I tried
real hard, you could learn me how to
cook ?"
Ah, well, "an ever-chan;gsful and
capricious thin; is woman."
. (The End.)
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buil by a French inventor.
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A Song of Thanksgiving.
For purple aster and for golden -rod,
For azure dreaming sky and haze -
veiled hill,
For floating crimson leaf and pungent
scent'
Of pine wood whence the blue -jays
yet call shrill
We give Thee thanks.
For sheltered nook that hides the late
harebell,
For sunny slope where still the
crickets cheep,
For fragrant dropping fruit, for
smooth 'brown nut
Wherewith the squirrel builds his
winter heap
We give Thee thanks.
For stubble -field the slow -winged
crow sails o'er,
Telling of garnered grain the great
barns keep,
For cheerful sound of thrashers at
their work,
For evening firelight and night's
restful sleep
Accept our thanks.
.tee
Why We„Give Thanks.
For summer rose and autumn grain,
For gold of sun and silver rain,
For frosty morn and dewy eve,
For daily blessings we, receive—
We thank Thee, Heavenly Father.
For 'bubbling brook and ocean blue,
For Immo and friends and loved ones
true,
For toil and courage, hope and checb-,
For faith that crowns the passing
year—
We thank Thee, Heavenly Father.
Autumn Twilight.
Withered field and ragged tree, cloud -
lets rosy -tinted;
Scent of seeding grasses, tang of leaf
decay;
Muted insect melody, to the ear half
hinted—
So the pageant passes, fades the
autumn day.
An European botanist, who has
studied 4200 species of flowers, asserts
that white or cream -colored ones have
the most agreeable odors.
IN TEN YEARS
500 Dollars
1f invested at 3% will amount to $697.75
If invested at 4%, interest com-
pounded quarter 1 y, will
amount to $744.28
But if invested in our 61/2%
Debentures will amount to$860.20
Write for Booklet.
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Toronto Office 20 King St. West
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T.ANKSGIVING
1919
This is the day to let the oil of joy
rub off the root of selfishness. 'Tis
e time for great thanles +iving. There
is no room in our hearts for peevisih-
ness, vengeance or unavailing regrets,
In this hour the language of the soul
should be to bless our Maker and oar
voices should sing His praise eon-
tinuously.
The material world gives eounten-
once to the spirit of joy and thanks-
giving. Besides our good .ereps, our
well-filled granaries and stables, we
have on every hand the •call of grate-
fulness. The sunbeams write it; the
waters chirne tit on 'every shore; the
forests clap their hands; God did not
paint the sky with ink, nor pencil his
flowers in ashen 'colors, but hung in.
the heavens a curtain of 'blue and
spread over the blossoms gentle tints;
the streams sing His praise and every
nook and dell is adorned in beauty and
loveliiness; the fireside rings out tiith
laughter and joyous prattle.
^ Even in btbtnes where sorrow has
come will we find thankful hearts.
Perhaps there have been brealihes in
the household, sickness, bereavement,
death, or: it may be losses in business,
famished herds, er fields blackened
with blight. Yet, like Paul and Silas
at Philippi, with their feet in stocks
and their backs lacerated with
aeourgings, they have songs of joy
and thankfulness on their lips.
But this year is fraught with .great—
er blessings than those- we are ac-
customed to recount. At no time in the
past has a season gone by in which
so much has happened for the good
Of humanity. The principles for
which Canada's sons were fighting on
last Thanksgiving Day have been writ-
ten in. gold across the sky of the world.
We rejoice that right hasprevailed
over might. Peace has come, and to
the God Who alone giveth the victory
we lift hearts of praise.
We are thankful that democracy
lives. Gut of the throes of the great
world war many nations were born,
These infant nations, nurtured with
kindness and unselfishness, will no
doubt become exalted in the world of
nations to come.
We also see ahead the opportunity
for a league of the peoples of the
earth. Co-operation will spread its
beneficent wings over all lands and
its blessings will reach the poor and
the downtrodden everywhere. Weak
nations will come under the protection
of the 'strong and their rights can no
longer be invaded with impunity.
We praise our Maker for the part
we were called upon to act in the
great world drama, that He had so
nurtured us in the ways of justice ani
right as to fit us to ,sacrifice for others,
without thought of gaining plunder,
power, or land, and without the spirit
of bate or vengeance. We are grate-
ful beyond. expression for our soldier
boys and what they have accomplish-
ed, for the good mothers and wives of
these boys, and for those splendid
men and women who went out on the
fields of battle, to hospitals and else-
where to give succor to the hungry,
the wounded, the sick and the lonely.
We are thankful for peace within
our borders and for the hope of peace-
ful years to come. We are thankful
for the privilege of a pace in the new
world now in the making.
When all our mercies, 0 eur God,
Our rising soul surveys,
Transported with the view we're Iost
In wonder, love and praise.
Thanksgiving.
"It is a good thing to give thanks
unto the Lord." Then why do we
not do more of it? Probably we would
have to think awhile before we ,could
answer that question. And why is it
suoh a good thing? It might take a
philosopher to really answer that
question, but any ordinary individual
can at least ,glimpse an answer. It is
a good thing, because it {is a seemly
thing, and no man can afford to go
through life neglecting to do that
which an enlightened intelligence and
a good heart would . unhesitatingly
tell him he ought to do. It is a good
thing, because the one and Only way
that a man may hope to really enjoy
the gifts and blessings and oppor-
tunities of his life is to have •a spirit
that is appreciative of and thankful
for them. Men are miserable and
grasping and dissatisfied, not because
they have not enough to make life
comfortable and happy, but because
in their eagerness to grasp for more
they fail to !lightly appreciate and
enjoy what they have. A •proper spirit
of appreciation would turn thotrsandss
of miserable lives into happy ones.
s
There are those who, ever mindful
of the unequal measure in which privi-
lege, 'opportunity and, all nlateriial
goods are distributed in this world,
are always consciously grateful for
the ordinary, every -day comforts; for
food, shelter, decent surroundings and
a peaceful life. But most of us are
prone to consider that all ivo .are to
have is ours by a natural right, and
that on the whole it is rather a hard-
ship that we can not contrive to have
an ever-increasing sharp of sugar-
plums allotted to us. We who are of
that disposition
mast
try at Thanlcse
giving to come to a fuller -appreciation
of our more hidden blessings, as r"vel1.
as of those whieh vl'IN accept as mate
tern of warm