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Zurich Herald, 1925-12-24, Page 6r • • „ • • ae EDMAYtIES . - 'DEM 1)t1 I LPOIr$ ILLU Ral* SD PY R.W. $A-rf Reit lett . . BEGIN HERE TO -DAY. I intended, if he could, to stop in the , Mark Brendon, lemons criminal in- army. He had escaped marvelously, vestigator, is taking holiday on Dart- on many fields and seen much service. moor, 'Where fishing is his pleasure. . During the last:few weeks before the, White visiting a trout stream in Fog- armistice, he succumbed ,to gassing • gintor Quarry,. Mark holds converse- and was invalided; though, before tion with a man clad conspicuously in that, he had also been out of action Nerfok jacket, icke Ted waistcoat with brass buttons. The a from shell shock for two monthlknrbockers ands "He talked for hours about the- war stranger's hair and huge innstathese are fiery red and what he had done to win his hen - in coler. Later Brendon receives a letter ors; and we noticed particularly a from Jenny Pendean asking him to feature of his conveesatioe. His mem- , investigatewthe disappearance of her ory. failed him sometimes. husband. Mark goes to call at Jenny's, . "Michael explained to me after - home and learns that the man he met ward that this defect was a serious in the quarry is Robert Redmayne, thing and probably indicated some uncle to Jenny and suspected of mine brain trouble'which might get worse. daring Michael Pendean, who also is - • .1., missing. Robert Redmayne and his , I begged Uncle Robert to stop with two brothers are Jenny's three living i us for a few days instead of going to relatives. Plymouth. We walked out over the moor in the evening to see the bunga- low and my unc.e was very interested. 1 "He stopped on and liked to lend a "The war altered everything and hand with the building sometimes created a painful breach between my after the builders bad gone. He and future husband and my Uncle Robert. Michael often spent hours of these The latter instantlyvolunteered and long_evenings there together; and I rejoiced in the opportunity to seek adventure. "My husband had no mind for ac- tive warfare. He was delicately built and of a gentle temperament. Uncle woin take out tea to them. "Uncle Robert had told us about 'his engagement to a young woman, the sister of a comrade in the war. She was stopping at Paiguton with Robert, however, made a personal her parents and he was now going to thing of it. return to her. He made us promise "He represented the situation to his to come to Paignton next August for brothers, and Uncle Bendigo—who the Torbay Regatta; and in secret had just retired, but who, belonging to I begged him to write to both my the Naval Reserve, now joined up and, other uncles and explain that he was soon took charge of some mine sweep-. now satisfied Michael had done his bit ers—wrote very strongly as to what , in the war. he thought was Michael's duty. From "Last night Upcle Robert and Mi - Italy Uncle Albert also declared his chael went after an early tea to the mind to the same purpose, and though I resented their attitude, the decision, of course, rested with Michael, not with me. He was only five-and- twepty then and he had no desire but to do his duty. There was nobody to advise him and, perceiving the dan- ger of opposing my uncles' wishes, he yielded and volunteered. "But he was refused. A doctor de- clared that a heart murmur made the necessary training quite impossible and I thanked God when I heard it. At my own wish Michael married me and I informed my uncles that he had done so. Relations were strained all round after that; but I did not care; and my husband only lived to please me. The Prince of Wales had been instrumental in starting a big moss depot for the preparation of surgical dressings; and both my husband and I joined this station. "For nearly two years we stuck to this task, lodging here with Mrs. Gerry. During that time I fell in love with Dartmoor and begged my husband to build me a bungalow up here when the war was ended, if he could afford to do so. His pilchard trade with Italy practically came to an end after the summer of 1914. But the company of Pendean & Trecarrow owned some good little stemaers and • these were soon very valuable. So Michael, who had got to care for Dart- moor as much I ascue, presently too steps and succeeded in obtaining a long lease of a beautiful and shelter- ed spot near Foggintor Quarries, a few miles from here. "Meanwhile I had heard nothing from my uncles, though I had seen Uncle Robert's name in the paper among those who had won the D.S.O. Michael advised me to leave the ques- tion of my money until after the war, and so I did. We began our bungalow last year and came back to live with Mrs. Gerry until it should be com- pleted. "Six months ago I wrote to Uncle Albert in Italy and he told me that he should deliberate the proposition; but he still much resented my mar- riage. I wrote to Uncle Bendigo at Dartmouth also, who was now in his new home; but while not particularly angry with me, his reply spoke slight- ingly of my dear husband. A week ago I was walking out of • the post -office, when who should sud- denly stop in front of me on a motor bicycle but Uncle Robert. I waited only to see him dismount and set his Machine on a rest before the post - office. Then I approached him. He Was lodging at Paignton, down on Torbay, for the summer months, and be hinted that he was engaged to be married. "He had been to seen an old war comrade at Two Bridges, two miles from here, and meant to lunch at the Duchy Hotel and then proceed to Ply- mouth; but I prevailed upon him at last to come and share our midday meal, and I was able to tell him things about " Michael which promised to change his unfriendly attitude. When my husband returned from the bunga- low I brought them together again. Michael was on his defence instantly; but he never harbored ,a grievance very long and when he saw that Uncle Bob was not unfriendly and very in- terested to hear he had won the O.B. E. for his valuable services at the depot, Michael showed a ready inclina- tion to forget and forgive the past. "r thiek that was almost the hap- piest day of my life and, with my anxiety much modified, I was able to study -Uncle Robert a little. He seem- ed unchanged, save that he talked louder and was more excitable than eV', The war .had given him wide, new i,rests; he was a captain and Since the recent removal of the scaffolding wheel cloaked the classic beauty of Victory Tower, the above is the first published. view of the now complete memorial which crowns Parliament Hill, Ottawa. The 53 bell carillon is still to be installed. The old buildings- were destroyed by fire, February, 1916. bungalow, but I did not accompany — them on this occasion. They ran round by read on Uncle Robert's' motor bicycle, my husband sitting be- hind him, as he always did. "Supper time came and neither of them appeared. I am speaking of last night now. I did not bother till mid - "When my husband returned from the bungalow I brought them together." to breakfast, I got some information of a very definite kind. Two men told the same tale and they hadn't met be- fore they told it. One was Jim Bas- sett, under fdreman at Duke's quarry, and one was Ringrose, the water bailiff who lives in the end cottage. Bassett was smoking at his door at ten o'clock and Robert Redmayne came alone, pushing his motor bicycle till he reached the road. And behind the saddle he had a big sack fastened to the machine. "Bassett , wished him 'good night' and he returned the compliment; and half a mile down the by -road, Ring - rose also passed him." Inspector Halfyard stopped. Her Bread as Good as His Dough. "Did Ringrose also report the sack Hby—"There's no use talking, you behind the motor bicycle?" asked can't make bread like mother used to ub . Brendon. Melte!" continued.) "He Wifie—"Without any talk at all, you can't make dough like father used to . make—so there!" night, but then I grew frightened. I went to the police station, saw In- spector Halfyard, and told him that, my husband and uncle had not come , back from Foggintor and that I was anxious about them." Mrs. Pendean stopped and Brendon rose. She shook his hand and e fleeting ghost of a smile, infinitely pathetic but unconscious, touched her face. -At the police station a car was wait- ing for Mark and in twenty minutes he had reached Foggintor. Inspector Halfyard rose as Brendon appeared, came forward, and shook hands. "Have you searched the quarries?" "Come out to the bungalow and I'll tell you what there is to tell. There's been a murder all right, but we're more likely to find the murderer than his victim." They went out together and soon stood in the building. "Now let's have the story from Where you come in," said Brendon, and Inspector Halfyard told his tale. "Somewhere about a quarter after midnight I was knocked up. Down I came and Constable Ford, on duty at the time, told me that Mrs. Pen - dean was wishful to see me. "Her husband and her uncle, Cap- tain Redmayne, had gone to the bun- galow, as they often did after working hours, to carry on .a bit; but at mid- night they hadn't come home, and she was put about for 'em. Bearing of the motor bike, I thought there might have been a breakdown, if not an acci- dent, so I told Ford to knock up an- other chap and go down along the road. Which they did do—and Ford came back at half after three with ugly news that they'd seen nobody, but they'd found a great pool of blood inside the bungalow—as if -somebody had been sticking a pig there. 'Twee daylight by then and I motored out instanter. looked round very carefully for anything in the nature of a clue, but I couldn't see _so much as a button. The quarrymen don't work, here be- cauee this place hasn't been open for more than a hundred years'but they go to Duke's quarry down atlelevivaie, and most of 'em have push bikes to take 'em to and from their job, "At their cottages, on my way back did." (To be Even Unto the Second Childhood. Miss Passay—"You should see all my Christmas gifts—right from Santa Claus! He never forgets any of us children." ... - MISS Sharpe—"So good of him to re- member there's a second childhood, I think." The Cause. The palm is naught to the dauntleses, And the cause is more and more. —Richard Havey. - Warwickshire. Why will your mind for ever go To meadsin sunny Greece? Our song -birds have as fine a flow, Our sheep as fair a fleece: Among our hills the honey -bee, And in the leaning pear— 1 tell you there is Arcady In leafy Warwickshire. • Our maids can match Diana's shape, And thread the woodland way; They sing, and from the trees escape Birds musical as they: As Orpheus once Eurydice, The thrush he draws my dear— I tell you there is Arcady In leafy Wawickshire. Apollo's in the winding lane! And Cupid with his smile Comes splendidly across the plain 'To walk with us a mile: . The milkmaid's kiss, the country peace Delight us living here, Content to traffic all of Greece .For leafy Warwickshire, —Norman Gale. THE MOTHERS OF MEN Withered and old Wee the little we- mother'e hands, and yet, as. I Watcheit it seellieed to geqW tee a thing thing,' "A pretty thing," I vqAtared, "for a man child'," The bent frame sermigie: tened, the faded eyes seemed t.e. spectator es her little world moved on. gleam with light. "Yes," she anewer Great grandchildren there were within "for a man oh lid. For seventy yea' the home, for grandmother was nearing eve been enitting, knitting, Much ai the century mark. An old and fragile the day, fax into the night, Eight boys!' figure; almost unnoticed, except as of my own. Then their sone, a score each meal time came, or shadows of them. And now the sone of their ed for a season of ree:. It was always eons. But I love boy babies, I still, night for grandmother. She was blind, can feel their chubby arms, about inY , Yen, the world had passed grand- Deck." And grandmother's smile was, mother by. The miracles of to -day, transforming, beautiful. except that of the radio, meant but - Oh, the mothers of men, how much little to her. The chatter of her grand- we owe them! And this, geandmother children was as language in a foreign had mothered most of heroic deeds in, tongue. Quiet, unnoticed, she sat, day soldiery, of skill in • medicine, of after day; her knitting needle flashing achievement in the arts and agricul-, in and out. Grandmother could still knit. What a comfort in her old and sightless days. Map. Work -worn her hands., snow white her hair. Quite useless she seemed in a busy household, a mere tine. -Unsung, unheralded, she sits in the shadow and knits. And knits, Put some day surely, there alma be great Tiny was the little' sock in grand- reward for such as grandmother. The Short Cut. -erare; "That old doctrine about honesty be- ing the best policy may have .been all right in the past, but it is out of date now," remarked Bob Hampton cyni- cally. els, hey?" grunted old Turner Gill. "Well, rather. Of course, I wouldn't want to be an out-and-out crook, but I've made up my mind that a man can • be too conscientious for his own good. I have noticed that a man is pretty generally measured by the amount of money he is. able to get, if his practices aren't too rank. The man who believes in 'getting his. while the getting is. good' gathers in more 'worms' than the proverbial early bird. The man who is shrewd enough to 'cut bases,' in the game of life with- out the umpire's catching him is the one who has the most runs marked up to his credit. He lives well, stands high in the community, has plenty of friends, and when he dies the preach- er 'gives him a free ticket to heaven' the same as jf he had walked in the straight and narrow path all his life." "Tickets to heaven are not at the disposal of the ministry, Bob, and the surface of a stream doesn't show the depth of mud at the bottom. The man who gets what he wants, by a short cut that leaves out the mile -posts of honesty and righteousness will find he has lost his way as sure as right is right and God is God. By no sys- tem of mathematics can we compute the value of a clear conscience, and all the money and fame and pleasure in the worid,.are not a fair price to of- fer a man in exchange for his self-re- spect. A man must live with himself twenty-four hours, a day and three hun- dred and sixty-five days in the year; • and no mania good company or him- self who is not on the level. A man may steal money or fame or praise or preferment, but peace of mind must be honestly earned. The.unrighteous may prosper for a season and seem to be contented, but at theharvest a man must reap that which he has, sown. It is' not what men think about us, but what God knows about es, that counts. However long the payment may be deferred, and whatever flowersdeferred, may strew the intermediate pathway, you'll find, in the end, the wages of sin is, death.' " Two Epitaphs. I. I fell in battle; you, allowed to live,. Now sigh to find each day More fugi- tive. I knew alone unwearied work and play; You, die a little every heating day. II. Here lies in peace, a simple soldier's dust; Waste not a tear; he thought, the cause was just. Haply he pities you, who, passing by, Live for no cause for which you'd dare • to die. — W. E. H. le- There are eight species of pine in Canada, but only five are of commer- cial importance. "Lubber," recently acquired by a Nebraska, firm, is said to be the largtst horse alive. high and weighs 3,000 pounds. He fg a five-year-old. bay gelding with black Peluts. • stands hands FOR THE JUNIOR MISS. • Frocks for the junior miss are very smart in velveteen this season, and are doubly sure of smartness if they. 'begin with a long sleeve and end with a flare skirt. Two godets at the front and an inverted plait at the side seams are responsible for the flare in this attractive model A becoming round collar chooses a tie with stripes at the ends to fasten at the front. The godets maybe omitted and a simple straight-line frock fashioned from pattern No. 1070, which is in sizes 8, 10, 12 and 14 years. Size 10 years re- quires 2% yards 36 -inch, or 2l yards 40 -inch material. Price 20 cents. Our new Fashion Book contains many styles showing how to dress boys and girls. Simplicity is the rule for well-dressed children. Clothes' of character and individuality for the junior folks are hard to buy, but easy to make with our patterns. A small amount of money spent on good ma- terials, cut on simple lines, will give children the privilege of wearing adorable things. Price of the book 10 cents the copy. HOW TO ORDER PATTERNS. Write your name and address plain- ly, giving number and size of such , patterns as you want. Enclose 20c in stamps or coin (coin preferred; wrap it carefully) for each number, and address your order to Pattern Dept., Wilson Publishing Co., 73 West Ade- laide St., Toronto. Patterns sent by return mail. The Pace That Kills. Bach year flying machines are being turned out with engines' of increasing power, making it possible to travel through the air at an ever greater speed. The Plying Bullet, that Most up-to-date of British oeaplanes, has a average speed of about four miles per minute, and it seems likely that in the near future ten or twelve miles, wifl. become possible. But at what price? , The question is looming large in the minds of both flying and medical men at the present time as to how long it will be before tine human body prevail itself inferior, in at least one, respect, to the machine made with human. bands, and collapses under the strain of speed. ,- Serious. physical results. have been felt by airmen flying at the compara- tively slow speed of four miles a mIax-, ute. Nothing could be worse for the human fra,me 'than the results of a: sudden turn while fly hig through the, air at high speed. The blood is, wrenched from the brain end drawn down into the body by centrifugal force, as a result of which. the airman loses Consciousness for the space of some seconds. AS long as aeroplanee -reclaim hu- man bodies and brajne to cuntrol them, say the medical expellee cher aniles a miaete meet be their magi:man speed. Any rate of travel above tarps means, nicht for the pilot.