HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Seaforth News, 1926-10-21, Page 2Full
of Flavour:.
So why accept exhausted bulk tea.
MIRACIE
You niay not. like Joseph Bishop, but this story of the
awakening of his cramped soul will hold you
to the last word.
BY SOPHIE KERR.
PART I.
It was very quiet there in the sick-
room, very quiet and very hot. •,A
bare room, like many other :farm bed-
rooms, with whitewashed walls and
plain, ugly furniture, the green, wav-
ery glass of the square of mirror over
the chest of drawers reflecting the
glare of sunlight beyond the shade of
the swamp maples that spread above
and around the house. Molly Bishop
looked out anxiously into this glare.
"If it'd only rain, or'thisspell of
heat let up a little, I know the fever'd
break. But it's like a sea of brass,','
she murmured to herself. "Reckon P11
sponge him off again like Doe Pruitt
said, and see -anyway I got to keep
trying."
She turned back with resolution to
the bed, and dipped white linen cloths
swiftly and deftly into cold water. Her
hands, thin and worn, knotted at the
joints, moved in an agony of tender-
ness over her patient. He was her
only son, and. as he lay there, flushed
and hot, and vaguely muttering inco-
herent words, she felt the blood drip
away front her heart in apprehension.
Bobby Bishop was sixteen, yet there
was .something babyish about his fore-
head, still clear and white in contrast
with the deep tan of the rest of his
face, and more babyish still his blond
hair, which had grown out since his
illness, curled. in pitiful ringlets about
his whiteness. Molly Bishop, as she
bathed him, found herself looking at
these ringlets, and tears dropped slow-
ly down her cheeks.
"Just like when he was a little fel-
low," she thought. "My little boy, my
little boy! Never had a chance—
never! But I won't give you up -1
won't. I can't. You're everything."
She had almost finished her task
when she heard Joseph Bishop, her
husband, come into the kitchen, letting
the screen door slant behind him. She
shivered, and bent to See if the noise
had disturbed Bobby --she almost
wished it would, it had been so long.
since he had noticed anything. She
drew the cool cloth once more across.
his forehead, and went quickly down-
stairs. That was to prevent Joseph
Bishopfrom coming up. Indeed, he
was sit the foot of the stairs as she
reached the head of them, and she held
up a warning hand to stay him.
"How's he now?" asked Joseph
Bishop anxiously, but not lowering his
voice.
"Just the same's far's I can see. Did
you see Doc Pruitt in town?"
"Yes, I saw'!m:"
Joseph Bishop wagged his heavy
head ominously. He was a big, thick,
clumsy man, ruddy and blunt of fea-
ture, loud -voiced, a man without
nerves or sensibility a reader of char-
aeter. might observe,
"What did he say?" demanded Molly
Bishop. "What did he say, Joe? Tell
are every word."
She had got hint out into the kitchen
again, and shut the door at the foot
of the stairs.
"IIe said there wasn't no hope.
Fever's lasted too long. He thought
'ad surely break the seventh day, and
WRIW
satisfies the desire for
sweets, helps make strong
healthy . teeth, removes
particles of food from
teeth crevices, and aids
digestiotl. So it is a
wonderful help' to health.'
GG31
ISSUE No. 43-'20:.
when it didn't he said be was certain
it's break on the ninth. And now it
hasn't broke on the ninth, Bobby'll
just lay there like that and in a couple
days go into a deeper stupor, and
that'll be the end."
If the wordshad been blows from
Joe Bishop's powerful hands, his wife
could not have shrunk and winced
under them more abjectly. Icer thin
face, already shadowed with the pallor
of fatigue and misery, turned almost
blue -white. She caught at the kitchen
table to keep herself from falling.
"Oh, don't, Joe! Don't!" she _cried
out in an, actual physical agony, "Ile
couldn't have meant that, Doc Pruitt
couldn't. He couldn't have meant that
Bobby's got to die; that there ain't
any real hope for him."
"That's what he said. It is hard --
right at harvesttime, too. I dunno
where I'll be- able ,to find an extra
hand.,,
"Oh, what's the' harvest!" Molly
Bishop's voice rose in a cry of despair.
"By cripes, Molly, you're wandering
in your mind!" said her husband se-
verely. "Wheat's going to two dollars
this fall!"
"Did Doc say there was no hope?"
she pleaded, "disregarding his state-
ment about the wheat. "Not a bit?
Bobby's never been what you plight
call puny, though he never was so
stout, neither. Looks 's if he could
surely get out from under a little spell,
offever." e Her hollow eyes implored.
him.
"No, he said they wasn't no hope,
and it'd be all over in two -three days
now." He flung it at her squarely,
impatient at her insistence.
Molly Biahop dropped into a chair
and flung her apron over her head.
She did not cry, she did not say a
word, only sat still, numb with the
pain of it. Her husband waited a lit-
tle and his impatience increased. He
gave a long, noisy sigh.
"We gain to have dinner to -day?"
he asked at last, for he was a man
who liked to eat hearty, rich food
three times a day.
His wife dropped the aprcn and sat
up in the chair, dry-eyed and resolute.
"You can go over to the Sanderses
and get Lottie Sanders to come and
cook," she said. "I' ain't going to stir
out. of Bobby's room again till the end
comes. I guess his mother can do
that much for him."
"If there's anything cooked up I
could eat it cold before I go over to
Sanderses," suggested Joe Bishop, for
his stomach was clamoring for its ac-
customed load. "Maybe with a cup
of coffee."
"If you want you can build the fire
and make yourself some coffee," re
turnd Molly. "And whatever there is
is right there in the pantry." She
left the room, and Joe Bishop heard
her going upstairs. He was annoyed"
—there was no reason why she
shouldn't have taken time to make him
a cup of coffee; but he didn't insist,
though usually he made it a point not
to humor Molly's vagaries. When he.
married he let her know who was mas-
ter, and a few lessons had sufficed.
To -day, though, there was something
about her that got through even his
customary sluggish arrogance, warn-
ing him not to force an issue,
He rummaged in the pantry and
brought out cold meat, bread, thick
sugar cookies, half a custard pie, He
decided that it was hardly worth
while to build a fire, such a hot day
and al:; but he went out te:the spring
house and got a pitcher of"milk, some
butter, and a dish df cottage. cheese.
Not a very good dinner, as Joseph
Bishop's dinners usually went, but it
would serve. Lottie Sanders could
cook him a hot, filling meal to -night.
All of the food he put on the clean
scoured kitchen table, and as he sat
there and slowly and noisily devoured
a
smacking n ng his lips over the icy c milk
—that was a keen idea, cold milk ing
stead of coffee on a day like this, he
told himself—he thought about the
coming harvest and about the sick boy
upstairs- To -day was Monday. If Bob-
by lasted till Thursday they could
have the funeral on Sunday. That.
world leave the next week clear for
the harvest, and no work day lost.
There was nothing consciously brutal
in the mind of Joseph Bishop as he
made these plans. He had always
prided himself on his forehandedness,
and laid his success as a farmer to
looking ahead when most of the'farm-
ars round about were, as he truthfully
said; "looking behind and trying to
catch .up with -themselves." And le,
had heard so much praise for his fore
hendednss, and took such credit to
himself for it, that.• it had become .a
dear vanity with him, -and second na-
ture to exercise it.
It was the way in which he had been
reared. His • had been a pinched, re-
pressed, hard -worked childhood, with-
out one gleam of natural joy or di-
version, His father was an Old-
Testament parent, sparing tot the rod,
harsh to his children, thrifty to the
point of cold penury. His mother was
a drudge, crushed under the heavy
work of her household. Joseph Bishop
had learned from his cradle only to
work. and to aave. Joy, beauty, affec-
tion, sympathy, he had never known.
• His thought went on, slowly, thickly,
to the time of his munching heavy
jaws. Whether they had Bobby's
funeral on Sunday or any day next
week, they'd have to get Parson
Wayne to preach the funeral eermon,
because their own pastor, Parson Hig-
gins, had gone out west fpr his health,
and the .;two churches were having
union meetings.
He did• not particularly -want Par-
son Wayne, for the little old man had
always stood rather on his dignity
with Joseph Biahop, and the farmer
somehow suspected the minister of not
thinking as well of him as his stand-
ing in the community -.commanded.
However, that could not be helped now,
If Parson Wayne was the only preach-
er in the neighborhood, hewould have
to preach Bobby's funeral sermon.
Then . there came into the. mind --of,
Joseph Bishop the recollection of a bit
of news he had heard recently, -namely
that Mardy Graham's wife waspoorly
and not expected to live. In that case,
supposing she should die about the
same time as Bobby did, Mardy might
get Parson Wayne for her funeral just
when he, Joseph Bishop, would want
him. That would be intolerable,
Mardy was only a' renter, shiftless, not
even coneidered to be strictly honest.
He certainly ought not to be able to
set a time for the burial of his dead
before Joseph Bishop's wishes had
been attended to.
With these' thoughts the farmer's
instinct for forehandedness demanded
action. He smacked his stout palm
down on his stout thigh, By cripes,
he'd go in town and see Parson Wayne
right away, before he even went for
Lottie Sanders. He'd get Lottie on the
way back. The farm work wasn't
pressing for the afternoon. -Why not?
He had eaten all the food, and Le
did not bother to put away the. dishes.
That was woman's work. . They could
wait for Lottie Sanders. ,He tramped
into the foot of the stairs again, full
of his purpose.
"Molly," he called, "I got to drive
in town again on an errand. 1'11 be
back before milking time."
He did notwait to hear what Molly
answered, but went back through the
house, stopping only to look in the
pantry to sec if there might be a few
dozen eggs he could take to town as he
went. But there was only a scant
dozen, and he frowned and let therm
alone. Molly wasn't gathering the
eggs carefully, that was plain. To-
night he'd gather them himself. It
irked him to get into his light motor
truck empty-handed. He had taken in
a calf to the butcher on•his morning's
trip. Although he owned a car, Joseph
Bishop only dtove it on Sundays and
holidays—the motor truck was his
weekly vehicle, even when, as now, he
had no load for it.
Parson Wayne was at home, and he
was soon admitted into the high-ceiled,
shaded study, book -lined and prim,
where the old man wrote his sermons
at a. desk which had been hisfather's
and was far too large for him. Joseph
Bishop looked about him curiously. It
beat him why any one man should
se A
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Autumn Leaves.
Beatty of russet and scarlet swirled,
Crisp brown dcraps of parchment
curled,
Veined transparencies, scalloped
sheen,
Little gold fans and arrows of green,—
Dawn you flit by twos and .threes,
By scores and clouds from the drowsy
trees.
Dancing there in a giddy round,
Drifting' here to the cordial ground,
want so many books around. And Quiet or sleeping, none of you grieves.
that vase of honeysu'Bkle on the desk On a Bright and ,pirated autumn day
—what foolishness! It made him feel Why should anyone sigh and say,—
superior and solid just to look at it. Dead leaves?"
No rubbish like that ever littered up Ho, for the new adventure begun •
his house, inside or out. With release from the bough!
In a very few minutes the old mins Tlmero is wind, there is sun!
later came in, wiping his forehead, his Thera is hope that builds already for
fine old face white from the exhaus spring.
tion of the heat, his eyes deep and Who forever would clutch and cling
dark under shaggy brows, the one Even upon one beautiful tree?
really live thing about him. Now these Now, little lingerers, now you are free!
eyes
eyes were filled with compassion,
sympathy. Fres to flutter and float and fly,
Bach to be quiet at last, and 11e
„
I suppose," he began gently, in his In a gentle sloop under snow,: under
soft clear voice that carried with it
still the faintest thrill of its old-time rain,
clarion fire, "1 suppose -Brother Till spring shall' rouse you over again;
Bishop—that your son—that Rob- Out of,your' dust in the fragrant mould,
cart—" his voice trembled and his lips ,Mingled with essences manifold,
worked like a woman about to cry. He Sap and strength from a quenchless
held out sympathetic hands. Source,
Life and love for an endless course. c
Joseph Bishop looked at him in sur- 66"� �:J� �a .�. .� .
aro leaves old '',cover tired but glad
prise.Who ehould be frightened, who be
Tice old parson must be getting
childish to carry on this way.
"Why no, Parson, Bobby's not, Off Tor
Under the Stars.
All thoughtful miude have iheir
times .of ,depression, Life looms too•
large -anti overwhelming,•a.nd the •spirit'`.
is, pressed to its knees- Theu lira may:
appear to be .more of a nightmare than
,aaioyoits adventure.
From boyliood to old age the eters
had .a sjroog fascination far the; poet
Tonnyson. He would climb out on the
reef on a'.etetelit 'night to ;gene. up into
the starry vault, lose himself in int
mnenslty. His Mother was shy fd com-
pany, Ho said id him: "Think of the
great star patcheo and you will soon
gat over that."
It is a fine saying, but it is not in
accordance altogether with the painful
experience of most people of sonei
time mind. The sight of a, sky studded
_with -stars more often givee a sense
of littleness. and futility and lostnese ;1
which may be terribly depressing.
There are profound rescripts of
,humeri nature. in the Book of Psalms.
For instauce, whoa the poet had been
gazing. into the star-spangled depths
0f a Syrian slay, he exclaimed: "What'
is man that Thou are mindful othlm?
That is the :thought that occurs to r'
anyone who is not so• taken up' with
the trinkets of life that the immensi-
ties arelost sl€ht of.
Unlces we adjust our thought pro -
limey to the tree value . of things, a
book of astronomy is depressing road,
ing. Space becomes an obsession; the
figures in wltielt star -distances, are
computed, a menacse to sanity!
Tennyson meant to say: "To think
of the nebulous mist of the Milky Way,
revealed by: the telescope to consist;
not of star -dust, but of "myriads, count-
less and 1111mdtable, of flaming suns,
beside which even our own mighty orb
of day is a mere pigmy,:,hel'ps• to put
us all in our proper place,. to. make the.
big people who frighten us ;appear the
pigmies they really are."
1f I have the poet's "•meaning aright,
I am not In agreement with, him. If
the sight of countless suns depresses
me, 'I am thinkiy wrongly. You and
I are not insignificant. The sight of
stars on a clear eight ;need not be de-
pressing, eaten though we are capable
of realizing that they represent but
Ithe avenue lamps leading to the ,pel
ace of. infinity.
That very realization lifts you and
me to a proud eminence. You piek up
a pebble on the -shore, one of billfone
of similar pebbles. Do you feel small
and of no account in its preserves? No,
it's only a .pebble! Multiply it by a"
sum running to fifty figures; what is it
then?. Just a pebble; a big one, .but a
pebble notwithstanding. Butawe give
it another name. We call It a world.
Similarly, the sun. itself ,is but the
.handful of fuel burning in your grate
multiplied until one can warm one's
hands at it though distant ninety mil -
miles.
Mere bulk need not appal the, soul.
One flash of thought is more' than all
the sun's rays. The pbst was right
who, after pointing out to:the child
the aastness of the world on which
she dwelt, saki:—
You are more than the world, though
you are such a dot,
You can love an think, and the world
- - cannot.
Success . in Canada.
That Canada Inas wonderful advant-
ages for the boys of Great Britain, was
demonstrated in a striking way `at a
meeting of the `Board of Guardians of
an English workhouse reoently. There
were twelve boys to be disposed of
and emigration. was- suggested. Tlris
was opposed by some of the lady mem-
bers • on, the ground that lade would
have to endure great hardships, etc.
One of Use members told of an inci-
dent that eamo under his own obser-
vation. A lad who had been sent out
fifteen .years ago returned on a. visit
stylishly dressed and showing' every
evidence of prosperity. 'When, he call-
ed at the old home .where he had lived
as a ohild he provided a special treat
for the children, spending ten pounds.
It was then unanimously decided to
let the twelve lads try their fortunes
M Canada.
sad? .�' . 1
doad'm he said in_ his bigrumblinPerhaps td bud On a fairer bough, .
g nenascenae, nano knocrs how, o 15 cis.
voice, but Doc Pruitt says }nes bound
to go in two -three days, and I thought
I'd beat come in and see you, and ask
you to hold off making arrangements
for any other funeral till'I knew just
when I was going to need you."
rf T simple ,explana-
tion
x 1 -
I wasa et s m a ana
It pe e Y p P
tion to Joseph, and he made it as
1
simply as he felt it. He could not
underetjnd the piercing and incredul-
ous glance that the other man bent on
hint. The old minister weaked round
to his desk, and sat down, leaned his
white head on his whiter hand and
!still kept that deep, inquisitorial --,gaze
on the farmer. -
(To he concluded.)
--aa
Ice cream is stated, in an official
report on dairy produce, to be a very
valuable foodstuff.
Minard's Ltnlment fo, bryiees.
Not a single: green leaf, but a Rose in-
stead. '-
No leaves are dead
Youth's 'Gompanion.'
Very;Polite Lad.
l Wo l i
Unce-' 1,. you little how
many tidies have you been whacked
at school to day?"
Tommy—'Durfno,' ,uncle. I ,:don't
take any dloticea5 what .goes on. .be-
bind Iny back."
HAIP,DRESSING- ACADE(d'%
.h •she MaTO
OgegT f, OMT.'
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FREE: ask tits draggist for the Dia-
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The Child.
i3o email to start aeon so long a trail—
Dusty feet scuffling beside the team,
Watching a squirrel flicker out of
sight,
Waterbugs skate superbly on the
stream.
The`world will .change beyond that
furthest hill-
Will it be -level when - we reach the
top7
Perhaps .there'll be a lake, a, swamp, a
bear!
Perhaps there'll be- a deep and fright-
ful drop
Into a valley with a waterfall.
There goes a woodpecker—a bluejay,
see!
What's hiding there .behind that hie•
korystump?
Young eyes awake to the shudder of
each tree, -
Young feet already burned and cal-
loused, sped
Upon long miles of danger and delight,
Young lips with but one question—
what's ahead?
—Gwendolen Haste.
Warme's Liniment for toothache. -.
Village of 100 Employs
:Doctor.
Gove, a village of twelve miles off
the railroad in Gove County, Kansas,
with a population of about 100, had
difficulty in keeping a physician in
towif because of the small remunera-
tion .he received in fees, the com-
munity being small and healthy.
But the people were determined' to
have a doctor. They met and employed
Dr. :Earl .V. Adams to be . the town
physician. IIe gives healthful advice
and prescribes for the people of the
town and receives his monthly salary
only through: the contributions of the
people,of time town.
Proved.
Sahoalmistress il:lo, give ms
.
three` proofs that tate world is round."
Willie—"The: geography book says
so, you say so, and father says so."
Old hearts will beat moraquiek-
ly; old eyes will shine with
happiness when YOU go home.
And what a joy it Will be for
you, too, visiting the scenes of
childhood days and meeting
friends of other years!
Make arrangements now to ,go
home this Christmas on a liner
of the ' Cunard or Anchor -
Donaldson Canadian Service.
The voyage will be an unfor-
gettable pleasure. _ The ship's
comfortable appointments and
• the courteous,`intelligent inter-
est taken by every member `of
the staff in your well-being
make your journey... a real joy.
Christmas Sailings from Iialifa s
ANTONIA—Dec.13 to Plymouth.
Cherbourg and London.
*LETITIA —Dec. 12 to Belfast,
Liverpool and Glasgow.
eta.. 11 from om c t.,noh:, N. E.
Ash your S1eaetship Agent for information
1 or yea--
The
venu—The Robert Rei'ord Co., Limited`
Montreal,' Toronto,. Quebec,
St. John, N.B., Halifax.
CI ARD
ANCHORDONt DSO
CANADIAN -SERV'ICE !so
isgathered on the Est fish- harvest
I`ive sixths of Britain's
:ant Coast..
y.
TREASURE`;ISLANDS
8o Many Expeditions Have
Sear:Ai-ad eocos ..lalend ,T,hat
Every't andmark Has Been
Moved.
- J
"Plain s a cry that ,w1
ring' t heart cf,oven.ths
most 5 nd Cocos island,
abovo the name which
coujur f Vitae ,gold.
Pra Galapagos, His-
paniola, Tortugas, ars all re-
puted reasuree, but Co-
cos ex tion above theta
all. P ause the last loot'
wee hp a hundred years
ago; pbecause so many
peoplefind the hidden
hoards the reason, the
fact ro ost every year
au exp with charts and
pickshoping to lift
about oends and retire' -
in afflu
But n to have yet
'succeeded, extraordinary
luck itlikely that any-
one
It all the femme Cap-
tain Al o was a witness
at the ch -maligned Cap-
tain Ki Cook, and Davis,
in the ight, harmed the
shipping Bay, sacked' Leon,
and re to refit. Davis
likedreturned `moue
, than.once. alk after he had
Backed gold and jewels
worthship's hold, and
when and -the vessels
were, e -
That hoard; but as
Davis received a free par-
don espectable -land-
owner,,rates_did it they
could enough unchanged,
he pro the treasure frim-
self; a for his -old age.
In' oats, Benito ar-
rived o enjoyed a brief
but su on the hunting -
ground True to tra-
ditien,ot, and. as Cocos
was hiit there, :includ-
ing n jewellery and
plate entrusted to the
tender mate, Captain
Th'omp.Mary'Dear,by
the no when that city
seemed danger of being
sacked.
Benito and all
his crew, exception of Thomp-
son, pe
Twe later Thompson •
lay dying of a man named,
ICeatfnho bequeathed
his sec chart of the island
ehowin hoards, three in
number.
Atter was up. Keating
promptlythe .island and, 1t
is said his hands on a
hoard; mutinied and
tried emselves. They
failed ding -place, how-
ever,gave the whole
thing
Hunters.
Then of the treasure
spread, ships began to
call ththe sake of rum -
aging captain put
his whole three hundred: men
on the Government powder
for blasting .- After' a week
they hand the captain
was ded
A Ge tere-pome thirty
years real earnest, and •
as far is still looking.
Expedi expedition has set
sail to return empty-
handed parties arrived
at thewith the same
clues, plenty of blast-
ing -pow up each other's
hes of. Eight" t
t thrill to elle
resale citizen:and
amiothers, is,
ea?ftp visions o
Praise's Island, the
a, the Dry Tor
to have their t
exercises a fascias
Perhaps it Is bee
rigid there
crisps It is b
havetrled to
,Whatever
mains that almost
edition'sets out
and dynamite,
three million p
encs,
no one is knoll
ded; and without
loos not:soem
ever will.
Facing .a Mutiny.
started with
dward Davis, mvh
trial of the mu
Kidd: psmpier,
Bachelor's Del
ginPanama
tired to Cocos
the place, and
peel Heeatne �b
CTnayaqutl with
$7,600,000 !n his
he left the island
empty.
was the first
afterwards race
and became a t
as allgood pi
remain long en
bably •removed
nd so; provided'
1818,. or thoreab
n the scene and
ecussful career
s of his forbears.
he turfed his to
Me base he buried
over £2,000,000 i
that had been
care of his
Thompson, of .the brig
tables of Lima
M imminent
Shortly .afterwards
w, with the ext
niched at ..sea.
Twenty-six years
ng In the house
g, and to him
ret, wltha
g all Bonito's
r.
r that the hunt
sailed .for
,actually laid
but his crew
to get it for th
to find the hi
and Keating
up in disgust.
RIvaFFortune-
the rumor
and passing
there,' simply for
round. One naval
ole craw of,thr
island with Gov
sting purposes
had to give up,
severely ropriman
German settled tl
ago to hunt it
eels knows he
Expedition after crime
forocos,only
In 1904 two
same time. and
and each with
der. They blew
excavations, brought about landslides,
had at least one pitched battle, and
sailed away without the treasure,
Since then various other attempts
have been made to recover the lost
hoards, but still the treasure remains
unfound.
`And the difficulties -!n the way of the
treasure -hunters are always inoreas,
ing. Every new expedition changes
the face of the landscape with dyna-
mite, so that by now even -the beet •
authenticated cine would be•useless.
Indeed, short of the,inventton of an
infallible gold detector, it seems that
the Cocos treasure is hidden for all
time.
A Mother's Love.
Her, .by,,.her smile, how `.soon the
stranger knows;
How soon by his the glad discovery
shows,
As. to her lips she lifts the lovely boy,
What answering looks of "sympathy
and joy!
Hs walls, he speaks; 'Til many a
broken word,
1.s wants, his wishes, and his griefs
are heard.
But anon •a npbler task enjoins her
care. `
Apart she joins' hiss little han eIn'
Prayer,
Telling of -Him wlro sees in secret'
there!
And now the volume on herknee has
,caught ,
His wandering eye—now many a writ_
• ten thought
Never to die, with many a lisping
sweet
His moving, murmuring lips endeavorr
to at.
-Samuel Rogers.