RIAL
STORY
£
She
Women’s
Candidate
By BYRON WILLIAMS
I By B
Copyright 1913, Western Newspaper Uniou
CHAPTER I.
You have felt the thrill of the
chase? Your pulses have leaped like
an arrow at the yip. yip of the dogs
In close pursuit? You have dashed
madly over fences, taking the hurdles
without regard to personal danger as
the prey suddenly sprang from its
covert and whisked swiftly into the
hazel brush ahead? You—but wait!
Fancy! Did you ever behold ten
ipretty, vivacious lithe-limbed young
■women chasing a handsome man—a
perfect stranger—through a dogwood
swamp, their dresses swirling high
■above pretty ankles, their baying,
shrieks of hysterical laughter?
‘‘Catch him! Catch him!” shrilled
B slender blonde to the leading lady
Tunning ahead with an athletic stride,
her head and shoulders back, her hair
Tippling in the wind.
"Get him, Jackie!” panted a rav
enous brunette, close behind. “Darn
these narrow skirts, anyhow. I’d like
to be a man long enough to wear—”
"Oh, gee-—this is—too—much for
me!” and a solidly built blonde with
a retrousse nose and a red sweater
toppled onto a bed of moss under a
thornapp'.e tree and gasped for breath
that persisted in cross-circuiting a
chorus of chortles struggling for
freedom.
“E-Yip-I-Addy-I-Ay-I-Ay! ”
"Run, girls, run!”
"Go it!”
"Hot foot!”
"Whoo—p!”
A startled rabbit, aroused from his
breakfast of alder shoots, sat up in
mazy bewilderment, took one hasty
glance and bounded away into the
marsh grasses, his funny little tall
bobbing through the squashy places
like a meteor of down.
Ahead the man was running freely,
taking an occasional swift glance
over his shoulder at the foremost of
the foe. One by one the pursuers
were falling by the way, their laugh
ter becoming more and more distant.
Suddenly the man swerved behind a
<gret;t ash along the trail and waited.
Through the brush behind he heard
the leader coming like a wood nymph,
light and airy.
•' The man crouched. She was upon
him now. Agilely he sprang from his
hiding place and opened his arms!
With a gurgle of surprise, her
cheeks as flaming red as the Oriental
poppy on a sunny morning, she collid
ed with his manly breast. Before she
could free herself, the man’s lips
were at hers, sipping the honey with
an ecstasy of delight!
"Oh!‘ she gasped, struggling.
"Were you looking for me?” asked
the man, taking toll again and hold
ing her close.
"But—” she cried. "But—” between
kisses. And then with one free hand
ehe boxed him soundly on the ear.
He let her go instantly, rubbing his
head regretfully.
She stood staring at him, her laugh
ter given way to anger.
“Sir!” her eyes blazing. "How
dare you?”
"Never mind,” said the man hum
bly, “I’ll take it back!” coming nearer
and reaching for her slim waist.
Some lame philosopher has said
that a woman with a sense of humor
has never been born. In refutation,
the girl suddenly broke forth into
peals of laughter, backing away from
him until she leaned against a tree
trunk for support.
The man kept his eyes on her.
"Anyhow," he said finally, “I like
the game. Who invented it?”
Coming closer, he reached forth his
hand and touched her lightly on the
"Tag!” lie cried, and started to run.
The girl sat down unceremoniously
In a tangle of grape vines.
•'I had my fingers crossed!” she pro
tested—and the man came back, dis
appointedly.
"I’ll wait until they cramp,” he said
determinedly, crouching at a respect
able distance.
“There ain’t a-goin’ to be any core!"
nodding her golden head positively
and striving to keep back the blushes.
The man seemed saddened.
"Listen,” she said soberly. "If i
expected ever to see you again, I’d be
mortified to death. But I don’t, and
I’m going to make a clean breast of
It, because,” with maidenly modesty,
"it served me right!”
He waited patiently, nodding by
way of approbation.
“You’re the first man that’s come
np to this forest primeval in five
'weeks. We were hunting for mocca
sin/flowers when we caught sight of
" ‘Olrlil thers’s a man!’ shouted
Bess Winters—and In a spirit ot mis
chief we set out after you. It was
only a flash of feminine deviltry, that
would have died out at once—but
when you ran—well. It was so funny
we ran after you. I’m something of a
sprinter and I—I got In the lead—and
I—didn't expect you would—would—”
The man grinned.
“ ‘A bird In the hand Is worth two
in the bush!”’ he quoted. “I thought
you’d beat ’em—and I—but I hear
voices. Shall we run away?” entic
ingly.
‘‘By all means, no,” she replied se
verely.
“Very well, then, I surrender—to
you.”
The girl shook her head.
”1 don't want you.”
“What, after chasing me across
that confounded swamp!" looking
meaningly at her wet and bedraggled
skirt.
She reddened.
“It Is a woman’s privilege to reject
—even after she has chased a man
to cover.”
“And you stand on your rights?”
earnestly, but with mirth In his eyes.
“I do!” positively.
“Why?" he persisted.
“Because!”
He bowed profoundly.
“Before woman's final and always
conclusive reason I seem to accept
the Inevitable—but do not be deceived,
fair lady, 'things are not always what
they seem,’ " quoting. “I have caught
you fairly on the first lap. I, too,
shall stand on my rights—the rules
of the game!”
“Oh, here they are. Come on, girls!"
cried an eager voice.
One by one nine warm, giggling
summer girls came into view, ranging
a galaxy of beauty beneath the green
trees.
“Did you catch him, Jackie?" cooed
the brunette. “Did you?”
The golden haired one dropped her
eyes.
“She has—er, she did!" said the
man, speaking for her. "Is this the
pack?"
"Who are you, sir, that dares call
us dogs?" demanded a red-lipped
blonde with hair like flax.
“I am the fox!” replied the man.
He arose to his feet and put his
thumbs into the armpits of his vest,
a habit he had, facing them mock
ingly.
"Look!” screamed the short one,
“he is an officer!”
Jackie started.
With a deft movement the bru
nette reached forth and laid back the
lapel of his coat, peering at a tiny
gold star, engraved.
“Oh, girls,” she cried dramatically,
a ring of mischief in her voice, “look
who’s here; HIS HONOR, THE
MAYOR!”
CHAPTER II.
"The jury will arise and be sworn!”
“Jackie” Vining, the judge, waited
impatiently.
"What's the matter with you, girls?
Mabel, Luclle—don't you know you’re
jurymen—er, on the Jury. Stand up!
There!” with satisfaction. “Now raise
your hands—no, no; your right hands!
That’s better. You solemnly swear,
cross your hearts, hope-to-dle, you will
carefully weigh the evidence In this
case and render a verdict according
to the statutes—er, according to what
you think this wretch deserves?” ma
liciously.
Six pretty heads nodded, in unison.
"Be seated,” said the judge sternly.
"His honor, the mayor,” sat on a
soap box in the center of the front
veranda, a mere man in the hands of
the enemy, waiting his fate and try
ing to look unhappy.
“What’s the charge,” demanded
Alice Mason, appointed by the court
to defend the prisoner.
The judge moved uneasily in her
chair. Then, in a low, cutting tone
she said:
"He’s a thief!”
The mayor looked up apprehen
sively.
"I object,” he protested, “to the
The Mayor.
court’s statement of the case. It Is
irregular in—”
"Order in the court!" interrupted
the Judge. “Who’s running this
case?”
The man lowered his eyes, accept
ing the inevitable.
"This defendant,” began Jackie, “is
a thief. He stole a kiss from—from—
from a perfectly proper young woman
who had never been kissed except by
—rby—well, by those who bad a per
fect right. I might say that he not
only stole one but—I believe it was
several the young lady claims he
stole. He not only Is a thief, but—”
| "Whom did he UssT We demand
to know who the victim wuf cried
the culprit*! lawyer, vindictively.
"OverruledI” enapped the Judge.
The mayor sighed. Things looked
black enough.
“Tour honor,” he said apprehensive
ly,, addressing the court, "I appeal for
a change of venue. I have reason to
believe that the Judge is prejudiced
against me. I—”
Judge Vining pierced him with a
glance.
"The Idea!” she cried, with asper
ity. "Sit down, sir.”
“Well, anyhow, It was worth It!”
he shot back, resentfully.
The judge blushed as she opened
the hotel cook book and searched os
tensibly for the criminal act relative
to kissing against woman's will.
“Call the first witness!” ordered the
court.
Pretty Molly McConnell, her raven
crowned head held at a serious angle,
her dimples set in a solemn back
ground, took the stand.
"It was barely sun-up this morn
ing,” she said, quietly, "when we set
out across the meadows after lady
slippers. Aurora was taking her mat
utinal bath In dew as we trudged
down Simon’s hill and came to the
bottoms. Just as we were about to
enter, we saw the defendant skulking
in the wood. Somebody said, 'Man!’
and we started in pursuit. Instead of
surrendering, the villain fled at top
speed. We ran after him! Jackie—
er, I beg your pardon, your honor, led
the chase. I was second until I
caught my toe in a briar tendril and
collapsed In an alder bush!"
“What happened next?” encouraged
Margaret Farnsworth, the prosecut
ing attorney, brushing a stray curl
from her violet eyes, and fixing the
witness with a steady eye.
“I heard a scream from the wood
ahead and then sounds of oscula
tion ! ”
“I object!” interrupted Attorney Ma
son, striking a legal attitude. “There
is no evidence that this witness is an
“How Dare You, Sir?”
affection expert—that she knows any
thing about osculation at close rangd,
let alone long-distance kissing. Young
lady, have you ever been kissed?”
"The objection 1b sustained,” gur
gled the court, mercilessly.
The witness blushed rosily.
"I refuse to answer," she said,
stubbornly.
"On what grounds?" demanded the
judge.
"On the grounds of self-implication
and coeroion,” she snapped, her chin
in the air.
“The court reverses itself,” easily.
“Witness need not incriminate her
self. Ask the next question, attor
ney.”
"To the best of your knowledge and
belief,” began the state’s attorney,
picking a burr from her skirt and tosB
lng it carelessly to the floor, “were
the noises you heard such as to make
you think that somebody was being,
er—kissed?”
“Wait!" interrupted the defense, “I
object on the grounds—on the—it’s a
hypothetical question and—without
proper foundation in fact," Impres
sively.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Movies Make Target.
An ingenious adaptation of moving
pictures to a shooting gallery has
been made by an Englishman. In this
gallery the marksmen have the satis
faction of shooting at rapidly moving
deer or other animals, and the suc
cess of their shots is automatically re
corded. In the rear of the gallery is
a metal screen painted white. The
pictures are thrown on this screen and
the rapidly moving objects serve in
place of a target, and afford much
more excitement. By means of an
electrical device in back of the screen
a shot that strikes a mortal spot on
the deer, or whatever the mark may
he, is instantly recorded in the front of
the gallery. The marks also show on
the white paint, and after these marks
become too numerous the screen can
be painted over again.
In Women’s Interests.
Miss Lucy Goode White has been
elected president of the California
League' for the Protection of Mother
hood, which was organized with 100
charter members. It is not planned to
make this c permanent organization,
but it is to exist only long enough to
obtain the passage of a state law pen
sioning widowed mothers with de
pendent childrep and providing for pe
cuniary assistance during enforced
! idleness to women who work to sup
port themselves and their children.
OLD BRIDGE CAUSEWAY
BITTER CONTEST OF GENERA
TION AGO IS RECALLED.
Campaign for Elimination of Grade
Croaalnga, and Removal of Rail
road Tracks From Mall Cause
of Great Fight.
When you walk along the railroad
embankment, Its elopes matted with
b oneysuckle
vines and Its base
secured by a low
retaining wall of
granite, which
connects the via
duct crossing the
head of the Wash
ington channel
and the new rail
road bridge, and
which bisects Po
tomac park, di
viding the im
proved portion
from that which
is now being im
proved, you may or may not meditate
upon the fact that these tracks cross
ing the reclaimed land of the Potomac
river were a tense and interesting
question a generation ago. It was a
question which was involved with that
of the illegal railroad occupancy of
the Malt, of the large reservation at
the intersection of Maryland and Vir
ginia avenues and of certain streets
and reservations in South Washington
as storage depots and shifting yards.
The matter of the location of the
railroad tracks over the new-made
park land, raised from the river at
great cost, was associated intimately
with the questions of the demolition
of the Long bridge and its replace
ment with a modern structure and
with the elimination of grade cross
ings in the city. The Long bridge was
in possession of the Baltimore and
Potomac Itailroad company by virtue
of an act of congress approved June
21, 1S70—an act which authorized the
railroad company to take possession
of and extend its tracks across the
bridge under the condition that the
company "maintain in good condition
the said bridge for railway and or
dinary travel.”
The campaign for the elimination
of grade crossings in Washington, the
removal of the railroad tracks and
terminal from the Mall and the tear
ing away of the Long bridge and the
building of a bridge which would not
dam the Potomac river and cause dis
astrous flooding of the city at periods
of high water was one of the great
campaigns conducted by the people of
Washington and the friends in con
gress of the national city. The older
people of Washington recall the bit
terness of that long contest. That
campaign is too big a question to be
more than touched upon in an after
noon ramble, but a man may consider
a single feature of it while looking
at the vine-grown embankment under
which are two openings—one on the
Washington channel side and one on
the Virginia channel side—which ad
mit of safe and easy passage between
the northwest and southeast sections
of Washington's remarkable river
park.
The first Long bridge was built In
1809, the act of congress authorizing
the construction of a bridge from the
end of Maryland avenue to Alexan
ders island having been approved by
President Jefferson February 5, ISOS.
The bridge was built by a private
company, which was authorized to
charge tolls. The company was call
ed the Washington Bridge Company,
and the sale of stock up to the sum
of $200,000 was authorized. In the
list of the incorporators, officers and
stockholders may be found the names
of many of the representative men
of early Washington. The north and
south ends of the bridge were burned
in August, 1814, and the bridge was
destroyed by a freshet February 22,
1831. By an act of congress approved
July 14, 1832, the United States
bought the rights and property of the
Washington Bridge company and di
rected the reconstruction of the
bridge.
Up to that time the bridge had been
a structure built on piles from shore
to shore. Various acts of congress
may be consulted, and there was a
great deal of indecision as to what
type of bridge should be built. There
were numerous plans and a number
of changes of plans, but in 1834 con
gress decided to rebuild the bridge
somewhat after the model of the old
er structure, but to construct a cause
way 1,660 feet long "on the shoal or
shoals over which the present bridge
passes, by filling up by a solid em
bankment, in part, if convenient, of
earth obtained by dredging the river
channel.” That was the origin of the
Long bridge causeway.
Why Sandy Took the Little One.
A Scottish farmer’s son had the
misfurtune to fall in love with two
young ladies at once. The one was a
large, bouncing girl of generous pro
portions, the other was small and
slim. In these circumstances he asked
his father's advice.
"Well,” said the father, wisely,
“there’s sae muckle machinery used
In farmin’ nowadays that a big, active
wife is no’o’ much use; so I advise
ye to tak’ the little ane—she’ll eat less
bnyway."
His Choice.
It"l hate a barber that talks politics
tail the time, don’t you?”
“Can’t say I do. I’d rather have him
talk politics than hair tonic.”
/
EPITAPH A STORY OF HEROISM
On Captain John Williams’ Monu
ment and Is the Longest In
the United 8tates.
One of the longest epitaphs In the
United States, and certainly the long
est In Arlington National cemetery,
near Washington, is that carved on
the strangely shaped monument of
Capt. John Williams of the U. S. Ma
rine corps, who died of wounds receiv
ed In a savage Indian fight In Flor
ida in 1812. Here Is the Inscription:
“Here lie the remains of John Wil
liams, EBq., late a captain in the
corps of U. S. marines. Was born In
Stafford county, Virginia, the 24th of
August, 1765, and died on the 29th
of Sept., 1812, at Camp New Hope, in
East Florida. The body of the de
ceased was removed to this spot over
which his brother officers of the ma
rine corps have caused this pile to be
erected in testimony of his worth and
in their mournful admiration of his
gallant end.
"On the 11th of September, 1812,
Capt. Williams on his march with a
command of 20 men to Davis Creek
blockhouse, in East Florida, was at
tacked towards evening by upwards
of 50 Indians and negroes who lay
concealed in the woods. He instantly
gave battle, gallantly supported by
his men. who inspired by his animated
example fought as long as they had a
cartridge left. At length, bleeding un
der eight galling wounds, and unable
to stand, he was carried off the bat
tleground, while his heroic little band
pressed by superior numbers was
forced to retreat.
“Eminently characterized by cool
intrepidity, Capt. Williams evinced
during his short but severe contest
those military prerequisites which
qualify the officer for command, and
if his sphere of action was too limited
to attract the admiration of the world,
it was sufficiently expanded to crow'n
him with the approbation of his coun
try and to afford to his brethren in
arms an example as highly useful as
his exit has sealed with honor the
life of a patriot soldier.”
Capt. Williams’ monument is an
elongated pyramid about one foot
high. The inscription, which is in
script lettering, covers four sides of
the stone. The grave is in the war
of 1812 section of Arlington, and was
removed there after 1865 from some
other cemetery in which this curious
stone with its ample inscription had
been placed by his brethren in arms.
MOT AFRAID OF REAL WORK
Charles D. Slgsbee, Jr., Son of Retired
Rear Admiral, Works Eight
Hours a Day,
Charles D. Sigsbee, Jr., son of Rear
Admiral Sigsbee, retired, commander
of the ill-fated battleship Maine, is
working eight hours a day in the
power plant of Charlestown navy yard.
His work is not of the “kid glove"
sort, either, for he goes at it in grimy
overalls and jumper.
Sigsbee is but twenty-two years old,
and each day he performs tasks on
equal terms with older, trained me
chanics in the electric-light station.
His work consists of repairing boilers
and doing odd jobs about the plant,
such as cleaning tubes, making draft
tests, hammering rivets and lifting
heavy pieces of tubing when the occa
sion demands.
Sigsbee walks a half mile to the
navy yard, and reports for duty at
8 o’clock. Young Sigsbee says:
“I work at the navy yard in overalls
and jumper, because I want to acquire
a thorough knowledge of mechanical
engineering. I came to Boston to take
a mechanical course at Lowell insti
tute three evenings a week, and when
I have completed this in 1914. I hope
to procure a responsible position in
the steel business at Lebanon, Pa.”
PRESCRIPTION FOR LAZINESS
Washington Judge Orders Young Man
to Take a Cold Bath Every
Morning.
.Judge De Lacey, of the Juvenile
court of Washington, has a new pre*
scription for laziness. He has given
instructions that Theodore Peyton, 15
years old, shall take a morning plunge,
and maybe it is a pretty good medi
cine. The boy was brought into court
on complaint of his father, who de
clared that the boy was so lazy that
it was all but impossible to get him
out of bed in the morning, to get him
to go to school, to work or to do any
thing useful. He said that sometimes
the boy was even too lazy to dress
himself.
"What that boy needs is a cold bath
every morning,” said Judge DeLacey.
“Cold water is the best cure for lazi
ness. I will place him on probation on
condition that he takes such a bath
every morning. He must get in the
water, whether he likes it or not, and
stay in until he wakes up."
The boy’s head hung dejectedly as
he left the court room, but he prom
ised to take the water cure.
Says School Teachers Will Smoke.
Fireproof baskets to catch the cig
arette “snipes” thrown away by
school ma’ams were ordered for the
city schools by the board of educa
tion.
Women teachers do not smoke in
public as yet, but H. W. FTan. presi
dent of the school board, peering into
the future in a speech delivered be
fore that body, said he was certain
that within a short time it would not
make pupils stare wide-eyed to see the
teachers sitting at their desks puffing
with a cigarette, and that it were well
to be prepared—Los Angeles Dispatch
to the St Louis Republic.
HER HEART’S BLOOD
I
BY JULIA CORNELL.
Herbert Englerth, bachelor, man ol
business, was sitting on the veranda
of the California hotel smoking a
pipe, when an eastern Sunday news
paper was handed him.
“Silly sentiment to have this trail
ing after me. Surely in six months
I should be acclimated even to the
extent of reading coast news.”. ,
After looking over the different /
pages, with a stifled ya^ he turned J
to the magazine sectionJp
“ ‘To the Unkn#h
Queer title for a story!’1'
woman,
y.. harp
' thinft
lived in
I packed
You are the man. I am tl
I am sitting by the window,
beside me, looking at the s
ing of you. Indeed, you h; *
my thoughts ever since the dal
my dolls and stopped climbing 'CS^ces.
During girlhood hours I pictured you
clad In purple, dashing into towr* on a
prancing steed, carrying me off if* your
arms! What if other girls ha<K boy
lovers, I was happy in the thought \nat
my Prince was on the way. I was six
teen then. Tonight the clock of time shall
strike thirty for me! Ah! You can never
know what it means to a girl to face thir
ty unloved, unmarried! Why, why have
you made this possible for me? Is it
that your time is taken up with busl
nes cares, or have you drifted into an
easy-going, careless life, content with
your pipe and a dog, a man who prefers
a dream-wife to the real? No, the
thought is unworthy of you, who are
unselfish and true. My faith in you
has not wavered, but. dear, the time
grows long. I am waiting, waiting, not
for the schoolgirl ideal, but for you, in
any form you may come. I have trav
eled much. I have gazed into the eyes
of men. Ah! we should know each
other. Am I good to look upon? you
may wonder. Dearest, let mo whisper
that I am considered fair of face. The
wind plays with my curls. I have kept
myself pure and sweet for you. No man
has entered my life.
Oh, the happy, happy hours I have
spent embroidering linen, making cujy^
ions for my home—your home. I
been collecting all thc-se years.
chest is overflowing. Ah! the tender
dreams I have of you and me in our
own home, silting in the twilight or by
the evening lamp, you reading to me
while I sew. At such times I am very
happy. But sometimes, at night, when
the wind is blowing and tlie rain dash
ing against my window, the cruel thought
that you may never come flashes upon
me—a long, lonely life without you! It
is torture, because, dear, I am not one of
those strong, self-sufficient creatures who
can rise above the old law of nature. I’m
simply a home-loving girl, who asks noth
ing of life but her inalienable right of
husband, home and children.
Oh, dear, unknown man, visit me in my
dreams tonight and promise that you
will, will come.
“By George! I’m the man!” gasped
Herbert Englerth. “For twenty years .
I’ve been on the lookout for just that
type of a girl. Heavens! that article
was written with heart's blood! I’ll
find the girl or I’m not ■ the man I
think I am. Of course, she's eastern,
possibly southern. I'm away out here,
but what’s distance! I'll get her ad
dress from the publisher.”
With Herbert Englerth, thinking
was doing. But to his dismay he
found no addresses were given out.
It was, however, characteristic of him «
when he started out to do a thing he
did it. This quality had made him
an indispensable factor in his busi
ness firm. So when he asked for an
immediate leave of absence it was
granted.
Upon his arrival east, after spend
ing some time posing as a man of
letters, he at length learned that the
article had been written by Angela
Barrington of Baltimore. Md. She
was one of the new writers who were
slowly gaining a foothold in the lit- ^
erary world, he had been informed.
Timidity was an unknown element
in Herbert Englerth’s life. He, how
ever, found himself as timid as Uje
proverbial schoolboy when a
little maid ushered him into the iBF
rington home.
"Did you say it was Miss Barring
ton you wished to see?” *
“Yes, the writer of short stories.”
“Oh, yes; she is not 'in just now.
But, sir, she’s no miss; she’s married
and has four children.”
nt t
we Jfl
u«
Persian on “Suffringettes.’'
A Persian puts forward a solution
of the problem of how to deal with the
suffragists.
“It is true,” he says, in his Quaint
phraseology, "that in my Persia we,
are not much troubled with your sufj
fringettes, though at onir time a
grettable old wife was receive
my home in Tabriz who in rajmg
broke many things, scratch my favckr.
ite, and talk and talk and talk. But
that with one wink of the sword was
easily ceased, which with your law is
not, I think, possible.
“So, too, would be unpossible for
same reason, 1 think, to take next
best way to stop such women as you
have—viz., to mount them with all
speed upon assback, face to tail, with f
poster inscribing overhead, ‘See the
deserving punishment of female chat
ter monkey,’ and so through all the
city, staying only in each street for
three strokes of stout stick upon bare
flesh administered by guard attendant. (
Well so.”
Mansfield and the Cabaret.
The cabaret show continues, prob
ably to the satisfaction of the mar
Jority, but certainly to the dissatisfac
tion of a minority. The latter ele
ment needs no spokesman, as the sub
ject has been discussed thoroughly,
but a reference to Richard Mansfi
seems in order.
Before registering In a hotel
which he. did
say: