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The Brussels Post, 1916-7-13, Page 2THE LAPSE OF ENOCH WENTWORTH By ISABEL GORDON CURTIS, Author of 4. The Woman from VVolyertons " CHAPTER V1.—(Cont'd,) Enoch laid the manuscript aside, The Englishman hearty in his con- gratulations and enthusiastic, was urging the earliest possible produc- tion. He offered unlimited money and insisted that the best company New York mil produce should be engaged. The spell of the story eves still upon Dorcas. She passed out, shaking hands hastily with Oswald, "Dorry," cried her brother, She did not answer, "The play stirred her intensely," said Oswald, He had noticed a trace of tears on her cheeks. "Was this the first time she heard it read?" "Yes, I had never even told her of it. She has been away evhile—it was written." "Is your sister an actress?" "No—she wants be go upon the stage." "Let her have her way," advised the Englishman, "Her every action shows that she possesses dramatic talent." "It isn't my idea of her future." "Stage life Is exactly what one chooses to make of it. Curiously en- ough: I have a conviction she could play Cordelia." Wentworth brushed his hand across his forehead and stared at the scat- tered sheets of manuscript on the table. "Get Merry here as soon as possible. I want a consultation with both of you," suggested Oswald while he drew on his gloves. "It is now only a mat- ter of time and a theatre. If I may advise now, don't choose anyone on this side for Mrs. Esterbrook.. I know a woman who can play that part to perfection. Again let me congratul- ate you. It's a great play, one of the greatest I've heard in yeara. It's bound to succeed." Wentworth bowed, but a sudden flush blazed into his face. He was not hardened enough yet to accept con- gratulations for the brain product of another man. "Good-bye," said the Englishman holding out his hand cordially. "Good -by," murmured Wentworth. He moved to the window A carriage stood waiting in front of the house. He watched Oswald step into it and drive away. . Suddenly he recollected that Dorcas had. not spoken a single world of praise or congratulation on the play. She was always enthusiastic and happy over every triumph that came to him. She must have thought well of the play, She had a full appreciation of Merry's talents and she had seemed to like him while they were together during the summer. He paused- to pull himself together mentally, then. he called her. She came slowly into the room, which hed grown dark. "Doily," said Wentworth slowly, "do you know you have not said yet that you like—my play?" "Your pla.y ?" "Why, Dorry?" The girl spoke in an unsteady voice. "I don't believe, Enoch, that Andrew Merry told you of a long talk we had at Juniper Point You remember you left me alone with him when you were called to Boston, We sat on the rocks one afternoon and he told me his plot ter this play --he had been thinking it out for years and years. Why," the girl shook her head impatiently, "why Enoch, he had labored on it so long that some of the speeches were writ - ben, in his mind. Sometimes he put the story into the very words you read!" During a few minutes Enoch Went- worth fought the battle of his life. It was the struggle between good and evil, which every human being har- bors to a greater or lesser degree, in one soul, in one body. Wentworth sighed. The battle hail passed and evil had won. It was prepared to carry him through the most dangerous moment. With it came fresh valor, and not only the power to sin further, but a mysterious weakening of the moral tissues 'which made it possible for him to sin coolly and remorseless- ly. He turned on the light and wibh cool composure faced his sister. He met her gray eyes without a quiver. They asked a question which could not be evaded. "I hate to tell you, Dorcas," there was a tone of reluctance in Went - worth's voice, "but Merry is down again, down in the gutter." The girl jumped to her feet. "I don't believe it!" she cried. "Besides, if he were, what has that to do with his play?" Enoch did not answer. Instead he asked a question. "Dorcas, do you care for—do you love—Andrew Mer- ry?" A flush blazed into the girl's face. In spite of the telltale color her bro- ther believed her. "Yes, I care for Andrew Merry— very much. I do not love him." Enoch gazed at her wistfully. Ile knew, as she did not, how easy it is to cross the bridge from mere friend- ship to love. "Why did you ask me that?" "I wanted to find out how much it would hurt if I told you the truth. Merry is not worth your love, he is not even worth your friendship." "It is not true!" There was indig- nant protest in the woman's voice. "I know better, so do you., Only this does not explain about his play, for it is his play." "You remember he left Juniper Point suddenly?" "Yes." She raised her head with an eager gesture, "He went away to write this play." She pointed to the manuscript which lay on the table. "Yes," said Enoch slowly, "Ile be- gan bravely enough. Then—he went _.—•erneD7272nalLw.- ere 614, 11111e, is • 11 Is but another word for "insured!! when it refers to jams and preserves. Molding and fermentation are impossible when the jars are securely sealed with , • (A," •=4 • diref ••• PURE REFINED PARAFFINS Parowax keeps the container air -tight. When you have the jars securely parowaxed your preserves will be the same when you open them as they were the day you put them up. Best of all, Parowax is most convenient to use. Pour melted Parowax over the tops of jelly tumblers and they are made air -tight, dust and germ proof. FOR THE LAUNDRY—Sec directions on Parowax labels for its um in valuable service in washing. At grocery, department and general stores everywhere. THE IMPERIAL OIL COMPANY Limited BRANCIIES 111 ALL CITIES DIA under, as he had done so many time in his life." "What was it e" cried the Or Drink or gambling?" Enoch lay back in is chiv, B began to marvel at hew easily h could lie, becalms a lie had never aom readily to him before. "Drink and gambling—and every thing.," Her brother shrugged hi shoulders as if in disgust. "Of sour he stopped writing. A man could no write in his condition. He sent eo me. I stayed by him night and de and—wrote. You see—I wrote it' he lifted a written sheet from th loose, pile of manuscript, "Perhaps—hut it is not your play.' Dorcas shook her head with obstinat incredulity. "I told him so, I suggested w make it a collaborated play." "Ib is not even a collaborated play Enoch. Why, every situation; th plot, even the very words, are "He wants me to father It." "He must have changed since h said good -by to me. Ile was on fir then with hope and ambition." "He has changed," acceded Eno gravely. Ib was a relief to make on truthful statement "Is he to play 'John Esterbrook when it is produced?" "No other actor can. Merry has the entire conception of it nOw." "Where is he?" "I don't know." "I thought you promised Mr. Oswald to have him here and get things start- ed for en early production?" "I did. I am hoping to find Merry at one of his haunts. He must be found and put on his feet. There's a tremendous lot at stake. Dorry," he turned to her appealingly, "won't you help me?" "I'll help you," Dorcas spoke slowly, "if you can tissue, me of one thing." "What?" "That there is no wrong to be done." "There is ho wrong to be done. Merry will have the opportunity of his life, if he can only be made to see it that way." "And there is no wrong to be right- ed." "Then he must be found, Wh,en he is found," the girl spoke decisively, "he must appear before the world as the author of his play." "He won't do it," answered Went- worth. He rose, put on his hat amt went out. Dorcas heard the front door slam behind him, then she laid her face on the arm of the sofa and thirst into tears. CHAPTER VII. Suddenly, as if the earth had swal- lowed him, Merry disappeared. A week passed. Grant Oswald, in a fever of enthusiasm, had begun prepa- rations for a Broadway production. He turned a vast amount of responsi- bility over to Wentworth, who shoul- dered it thankfully. It kept at arm's length the possibility of dwelling much with his own thoughts: they were not cheerful company, and he was racked by constant anxiety about Merry, There was not a single mo- ment to spare when•he could go into the highways and byways of a great city to search, as he had searched be- fore when the man weir his friend. He could not delegate the task to an- other. He had prepared a tale for the public of Merry's whereabouts. Oswald believed the actor was stmly- ing his part and stood ready to appear at a moment's notice. Enoch went ahead with the tremendous lead of de- tail that fell upon him toiling day and night, while his mind alternated be- tween terror and hope. Every day the men was acquiring traits new to his nature. When a strange accident had tossed before him the possibility of satisfying his dearest ambition, conscience entreat- ed loudly against the theft of another man's life -work. Every noble instinct in Enoch made its appeal; his honesty, his generosity, an innate demand for fair play, the love of his sister and friend, all cried aloud to him during the lonely hours of the night. There! had been moments when he would have gladly retraced his steps, but the die had been cast. He was like a racer who, by some treacherous ruse, had pushed aside an opponent and was close to the goal. The intoxication of applause was beginning to sound in his ears and the future held untold possibilities. It was too late to burn back; it would mean the down- fall of great ambitions and bitter shame—it might even mean crime. It seemed easier to take the chalices. Occasionally Andrew's dogged face flashed back to his memory when he crial, "I will see what the law can do to protect a man from theft." Enoch felt his face blanch at the thought of it, Many a mao had gone down and out far o crime less knavish than this I. But he knew Andrew Merry well, and he trusted to one trait which was e predominant in the man—his queer o exaggerated idea of honor, e Day by day his conscience quieted down, self-confidence took the place of - wavering, and the fear of exposure s seemed to recede. At last he could e look the situation in the face without t,fline•hing. The task of putting on a ✓ theatrical production began to absorb 9 him completely. He had always long - ',ed for such a chance; he hail been e storing away ideas he oonld now uti- lise, besides he knew New York thor- ' ; oughly, and he had observed for years e the system of producing a play. Os- wald looked on with appreciation as e Enoch put his plans in to shape. Ile knew how uncommon was the combine- , ton of such talents in the same man e —bhe ability to write a virile play, then to stage it with practical skill and artistic feeling and originality o A remarkably strong company was en - e gaged. Oswald insisted on filling even the smallest parts with people far h above the level of subordinate actors. e The salary list grew to stupendous figures. One morning Wentworth re- monstrated against paying one hun- dred dollars a week to an actor who was to play the janitor. "Breen is a Inc bigger man than you need," he objected. "He has played leads to many of the biggest stars. We need a mere bit of character work in this—he isn't on the stage half an hour. I can get a first-rate man for half that price." "Breen can make the janitor so true to life that the audience will regret seeing him for only half an hour," Os- wald rejoined. "That's the test of quality. When I pay ahundred dol- lars I want a hundred-tibllar man." (To be continued.) MUNITION MAKERS SUFFER Handling of Explosives Gives Rise to Diseases. The high pressure under which the production of munitions has had to be performed in Great Britain has brought with it destructive maladies. These are particularly noticeable in connection with the manufacture of high explosives. Thus in handling trinitrotoluol after a prolonged period ono becomes drowsy, suffers from frontal headache, loss of appetite and may even become afflicted with a dis- tinctive eczema. "Unless the operative takes a rest in time jaundice may supervene, with decided danger of life. In a few instances death has been directly traced to the handling of the explosive. Tetryl throws off a slight dust, which, unless timely precautions are taken, leads to troublesome eczema. Another medium inimical to health is the varnish with which the wings and bodies of aeroplanes are treated. Tetra-chlorethane enters largely into the preParation of this varnish, and this throws off a noxious vapor which produces drowsiness and loss of ap- petite, and if work is persisted in ultimately jaundice, liver complica- tions and coma. In this case an al- ternative varnish has been discovered which. is free from the evil consti- tuents but it has not come into general use Inc the simple reason that there are insufficient supplies of the necessary ingredients to meet de- mands. —•-•4 DUKE'S GARDENERS. Three Employed on the Eaton Estate Exempted. Three married men employed on the Duke of Westminister's Eaton gar- dens have been exempted condition- ally at Chester. It was stated that the duke wanted every available man Iiheratcd from the d the necessary labor retained. Of the original staff of 50, 30 had left for service. Their places were kept open and wages paid, less the army pay, making a yearly liability to the duke of £4,340. The head gardener said he had unsuccessfully tried to secure other labor. Eaton gardens were opened to the public for six months each year, and during the past 20 years admissions for viewing the gardens and hall had resulted in 11.6,00 for charities. The duke had lent the hall as a military hospital, and the demand for vegetables was heavier than ever. Lady Arthur Grosvenor, hospital nurses, and others helped in lighter work. They had a valuable collection of bulbs, which were a national asset. Agreed io—" I am doing my best to got ahead," asserted Chollie. "Well, you certainly need one," assented Dollie. The Cheery Optimists P'We're an right, 0111, I expect the Navy wfll be up next weok."--Londoe °Maim You will like its Fine Granulation Buy your sugar iu 'these neat 2 or 5-1b. cartons, which you can place directly on your pantry shelves: Just cut off the corner and pour out the sugar asyouneed it. Lauda gar comes also in LOand 20 -lb bags for house- wives who like to buy in larger quantities " rsThe All -Purpose Sugar" =MEM= Vat. pure Cane Litre %wins' Granulated •,",,,airrattesra., iand 5 -lb Cartons 10 and 20 -lb Bags 014/50430 1164t;,-,14)01, A Cement Walk to the Barn. -lera. On the majority of farms no provi- sion is made for a dry walk from house to barn, although the distance, whether it be long or short, must be traversed many times a day. On sandy soil it is possible to make and keep a fairly satisfactory earth walk, but in the clay districts the walk cuts up every spring and fall and is slop- py after every rain. No one parti- cularly desires to tramp through mud when going to work or coming to meals and yet thousands of families living on the farm must do that very thing. Blocks of wood or old boards are sometimes thrown down to walk on bub at best they are only a tem- porary arrangement and soon break up or get displaced. A permanent concrete walk is within reach of most farmers. The gravel can be hauled in the winter when the teams are not busy and experts are not required to lay bhe walk. Any handy man could mix the gravel and put it down in a short time. •On a farm recently visited there was a three-foot concrete walk from house to barn and in the estimation of the writer it added many dollars to the value of the farm, One could go to the milk -house or barn in com- fort, even in the wettest season. Tho walk also aided in keeping dirt from being carried into the house on the men's boots. The walk was about five inches thick. The bottom four inches was made of one part cement to eight parts good gravel and the top inch was one part cement to three parts sand. It was blocked off in three-foot squares, except where bhe wagons crossed and there it was in six inch squares. There is always a danger of frost heaving a concrete walk, but this can be largely overcome by good drainage. in building a walk, a trench is dug about four inches wider than is desired, and four inches deep. Two by four scantlings are then stak- ed in place and raised one inch from the bottom, to hold the concrete until it sets, then they should be removed. Tho cement and gravel should be thoroughly mixed before being placed in the trench. An iron or wooden block may be used to pack the con- crete. A thin iron may be put across the walk every three feet to divide it into blocks. This can be removed when the concrete has set. Frequent- ly heavy iron is used to cut the blocks after they have partially set. Either 'method is practicable. The expense of a walk for the average farm is not great. When the distance in one hundred yards, about eleven cubic yards of gravel, three cubic yards of 'sand and fifteen and one-half barrels of cement would be sufficient bo put in a permanent walk. If the farm team! are used for hauling the gravel and sand, $1.50 per yard should be a fair price for that material laid down at the farm. The price of cement var- ies, but at $1.60 per barrel the total i cost for cement, gravel and sand would not exceed $45. It would only cost a d few dollars to mix the concrete and lay the walk. The cost would be con- u siderably reduced if no account was taken of teaming. Many buildings are less than 100 yards apart, while 1 others are a greater distance. The p cost would be lessened or increased accordingly. Even if it does cost fifty or sixty dollars to put down a per- manent walk that will keep the feet dry and clean when going to and from the barn, those who have so invested their cash claim it was money well spent. A permanent walk may be a trifling thing, but it greatly improves c bhe appearance of the farm home.— t' Farmer's Advocate. When Building Barns. Floors and Gutters.—Place layer of concrete 4 to 5 inches thick on well - drained cinders or gravel, and have the sub -base 6 inches thick. All stall floors should have a slope of one-quarter inch to the foot, Feed- ing. floors 1 inch to 50 feet. Gutters Should be inches deep next to cow, 4 inches deep on the al- ley side and 16 inches to 18 inches wide. Finish all floors with a wood- en trowel so that concrete will be left 1 rough and there will he little clanger of animals slipping on it. Cow Stalls. --Have dairy cew stalls e 3 feet 6 inches wide, 4 feet 8 inches in length from edge of meager to s glitter, Single horse stalls should be y FA `.1 'VOA .145 5 feet wide and double length for horse stalls is 7 feet from edge of manger to end of stall, Manger for cow and horse stall should be 2 feet 6 inches to 9 feet wide. Box stalls for hospital or maternity are best if 8 feet by 10 feet or 12 feet by 12 feet, Feed alleys should be at least three feet wide, wider if possible. Silos.—Build to feed 30 pounds a day to each head. Make the height two and one-half to three times the diameter. Build small diameter and high rather than wide and low. Pro- vide feed for at least 180 days. A silo 12 x 30 feet will hold 67 tons and feed 16 to 30 cows 180 days. A silo 14 x 36 feet will hold 114 tons and feed 35 to 40 colvs 180 days. A silo 14 x 42 feet will hold 148 tons and feed 45 to 50 cows 180 days • X Silo 16 x 48 feet will hold 236 bons and feed 60 to 70 cows 180 days. Better Bodied Butter The people who buy the higher grades of butter are people who are familiar with the quality of food. They appreciate butter that will resist warm temperature and will hold its shape because it has a good body. The wants of the consumer should be close- ly studied by the producer, and when they desire butter of a particulattex- tare, color or salt, the producer should immediately hall in with the sugges- tion as though he were an individual trying to increase his tragle by cater- I ing to their demands. The Sooner that the small cream- eries which are receiving good raw material awaken to this fact the bet- ter ib will be for them. If we are go- ing to accept this excessive overrun. es one of the good qualities in butter - making, and let it be recognized next to flavor, we should then change the system of scoring, and instead of hav-1 ing the texture or body follow flavor, we should have overrun follow flavor, then to texture, color and package. This, to me, would be ridiculous, for the simple reason that the consumer does not want any more weber and salt in the butter than is . necessary and he wants a good body. He is the final judge and must be pleased.—Ex- tract from address by P. H. Kieffer. Salting Hay. As a rule when hay has been well saved there is nob much advantage in salting hay, but if for any reason it is a little damp or has been much dam- aged by rain before Wing stacked or mowed away it is usually an advant- age to add salt to it. The salt has three functions: it cheeks heating, prevents the growth of molds and faubnieg.i, and makes bad hay more palat- A certain amount of heating in the hay after it is mowed away is desir- able as it is considered to make the hay more relished by the stock, but f it is improperly cured—the heating will be excessive and may result, in- eed, in spontaneous combustion. As rule from 10 to 20 pounds of salt is sed to every ton of hay. It the hay s a little damp when stored away or it has been injured by rain salting s well worth considering. The pros - eats are that a lot of the hay -making 1 vill be done this year in anything but suitable weather. Grain for Hogs on Pasture The pig is n pork -producing ma - lime, and like other machinery, is moat profitable when run at full cepa- ity. A pig's stomach is so small that t will not digest enough alfalfa alone o make a profitable growth. Pigs cannob produce the best gain when on pasture alone or when on pasture supplemented by only a small amount grain. Tests show clearly that wo and one-half to,three pounds of grain daily per 100 potinds of live weight of the pigs produced not only the greatest gain but the greatest pro- fit. The 'higher the price of grain, the smaller the profit in favor of the heavier ration. PAST CENTURIES ARE DISCLOSED SHI AUREL STEIN RE -EXPLORES DESERTS Discovers Copper Coble and Wooden Boole; Along Routes of Sir Aurel SAtegiens, Ago.wh who has just re- turned to England on the conclusion of a two and a half years' journey through Central Asia, undertaken by order of the Government of India, says the London Express'made some fas- cinating discoveries hi Eastern Turk- estan, westernmost China, the Pamirs, Russian Turgestan and along the Perso-Afghan border. After crossing the Chinese Turkes- tan, Sir Aurel Stein made his way as rapidly as possible toward the desert found the dried-up Lop Nor, visiting on his way a sand -buried old site in the Ta14-lamaken desert. Finds Ancient Orchard Among the discoveries at this des- ert site was a large ancient orchard, still showing with uncanny clearness the elaborate arrangement of fruit trees and vines carried over trellis, all dead. The settlement had been abandoned close to seventeen hun- dred years ago, and the river which once carried water to it now loses itself in the viand. Perhaps the most important dis- covery was the tracing of the ancient route of the Chinese, and of the numerous ruins along that part of it which lay through a dried-up delta. It was by this route that the Chinese, in the second century after Christ, conveyed all their silk to Central Asia and the far off Mediterranean. The numerous pieces of exquisite Chinese silks and brocades found in the cemeteries will open up a new chapter in the history of textile art. Old Caravan Route In that part of the desert which was waterless in ancient times for a distance of some 160 miles he was able with accuracy to track the route of the ancient caravans by finds of coins and other small objects acci- dentally dropped. In one place the direction in which a convoy had moved was clearly marked by hun- dreds of copper coin i strewing the salt encrusted ground, which had re- mained untouched for at least sixteen hundred years. The Huns Of Old During another portion of his travels Sir Aurel explored for a dis- tance of 250 miles a further section of the armed fortified border line by which the Chinese had endeavored to protect their westernmost marshes in Kansu against ancient Hun raids. From the ruins of watch towers found in continuous succession along the wall he recovered intact numer- ous written records on wood dating from the first century before and al- tec Christ. His travels involved more than eleven thousand miles of marching over mountain and desert. SIGHT FOR THREE MONTHS Operation Will Enable Blind Soldier to See for Short Time Only. An Australian soldier, blinded in the 'war, has been told by his doctors that they can perform an operation which will restore his sight, but that the effects of the operation cannot last more than three months, when he will become totally blind for life, says London Opinion. The soldier is hav- ing the operation performed, and meantime he has mapped out every hour of the three months during which he is to enjoy his sight. There are Certain relatives and friends in Australia he has planned to see, also certain plates chiefly associated with his boyhood days. The time con- sumed M the voyage home—for the operation must be performed there— he bitterly grudges, but he has grown accustomed to accepting the inevit- able, however poignant. He says his first glance will be at the face of the nurse by whom he has been tended, whose appearance has been minutely described to him. I think this gallant follow's brief respite from blindness, with its possibilities, and the Femorse- ess advance of the doom of darkness upon him again, is as moving and tragic a story of the war as I have heard. It seems to me I'd like to go Where the bells don't ring nor the whistles blow Nor clocks don't strike nor gongs don't sound And where there's stillness all around. Not real stillness but just the trees' Low whispering, or the hum of bees, Or brook's faint -babbling over stones n strangely, softly tangled tones, Sometimes it seems to me I roust Just quit the city's din and dust And get out where the sky is blue And say "How does it seem to you." —Eugene Field, Lawyer—" So you want to make a case of it 9" Client—" Yes. I offered to settle it by fair means, en' he wouldn't, So I decided 1%1 hire, a lawyer an' have him took into court." Matrimonial ideas "Why do you object to my marry - ng your daughter 7" "Because you can't_support her in he style to which 'she has been tic- ustomed all her life." " How do you know I can't ? I can P tart her on bread and milk, saint, 08 s On did." Visitor to Prison—" Do you really `Halt there Is honor among thieves 1" rison Chaplain—" No, no, my dear ir ; thieves are Nit as bad na ether eop1e."