Youngstown News, 1909-03-12

              THE YOUNGSTOWN NEWS VOL. XXIII. NO. 15. YOONGBTOWI*. N. Y* FRIDAY. MARCH 12. 1909. $1.00 PER YEAR HIDTUGB.  AUNT HETTY. The man on the bed stirred uneasily. He was tired of the confinement, his pillow was hot, his shoulder ached, his tongue was parched. The room was dark, Bave for the golden seam of light which showed that the door was slightly ajar. The man was Impatient of restraint He had always been free to go and come at his own sweet will. Now he was chained down by the , bonds of physical weakness. He could scarcely lift the long white (hand that lay upon the snowy counterpane. To raise his head was an act of heroic resolve. Even, his eyes ached as he turned them toward the door. He felt that badly treated. To be held down to a bed night and day, evefi as clean and wholesome a bed as this one,' with its tall black posts afd its snowy counterpane and glowing quilts, was a serious punishment. /in the great city the men he knew/were strolling to and fro, or k louuflng at the club windows, or gof and where they pleased— X. ahd hetoas here, bound and shackled *in a quaint old cottage up In the New Hampshiy hills. . > He had Sound out that the world was not nearly so desirable a dwell. tag place as the had once thought it. The darkness oppressed the man. He was in pain, his nerves were unstrung, be had developed a bad tein- Suddenly a tremulous sound broke Upon the stillness. The man grimaced."It only needed that old box of rattles," he groaned, and closed his aching eyes. Tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, faint and uncertain came the quavering tones. And presently they resolved them•ef-rpa into a tune, and the tune was yiding Billows." There is a m&o ony about the antique air that ahoui&be soothing, or at least sleepinducingt but when it is poked from ... a atubbirn keyboard by uncertain fingers tiat seem to grope and hesitate, an 4 when What passes for the musical Instrument (a ludicrously out of tune on certain notes and silent as / to others, the piece loses all its soporific qualities. But it really was '"Bounding Billows," there could be Bo doubt of that. Three times the player drew forth this ancient melody, and then there ■was a little pause and with a queer, pattering accompaniment a thin soprano voice sang "Rock of Ages." The man pn the bed drew a long breath as he listened. There was no mufete in either voice or Instrument, and yet the old hymn presently conjured up a scene of long ago—a boy beeide his mother's knee, a white ' V'W robed boy whose eyes were upturned the mother bending toward him Mng softly the dear old hymn. Something suddenly clouded the manV vision. He Vas lying very quiet now, the pain was forgotten, the tense hands .were unclenched. The sfnger thought him asleep when che'softly entered the darkened room. "Hullo," he called to her, as she turned to go. She was a small woman, thin and angular. Her face was slender and . just a little wrinkled, and there were iwhite threads here and there in the dark hair that was closely confined in a knob at the back. Her simple summer frock was of an Intricate pattern that had mixed Itself confusedly in the Bick man's dreams, and there was » great silver brooch at her throat. She came back swiftly when he called to her and looked at him smilingly.I "Better?" > "Hungry." "That's encouragin*. You shall have your supper in just a minute or two. Soon as th' teakettle bolls. Did my playin' disturb you any?" "Oh, no," he hastily answered. "I'm real glad it didn't," she said. "I've got so in the habit of settin' down to my melodeon that the day don't really seem complete unless I play a tune or two." She came a little nearer and took the. low rocking the bedaide. "It gets a mite lonesome here sometimes—'though my niece Hetty is real good 'bout runnin" in every now an' then—an' I find the old melodeon lots of comp'ny. Let . me see." She paused and her lips moved. "Yes, I've had it. now 'moat thirty-seven years, an' It ain't been tuned bat once in all that time. Everyone that hears it says it'a a wonderful instrument." The man discreetly smiled. "And where did you get it?" he Mked. "I bought it from a man that came KpMl aellln' 'em from a wagon. He gHfetharged me a hundred an' 'ieven doljars for The price waa a hundred *11 ll The Story of Her Melddeon, I 111 Tj i i Her Patient, and the Sur- jTTJ ♦♦♦♦ prise He Cave Her. ♦♦♦♦ l|ll (W. R. ROBE, in Cleveland Plato Dealer/. IxXX along one side that4you'd never notice, an' he let me have it cheaper on that account." She softly laughed. "Mebby the fact that I only had a hundred an' 'leven dollars had somethin' to do with it, too." She paused and sighed. "It took me all of nine years to save that much. It was mostly qulltin' money, with a little from nursin' here and there. My, how that agent laughed when I shook it all out of the old yarn stockin' where I'd put it for safe keepin'! Folks said It was a dreadful extravagance, but I ain't regretted it. Of course I don't play—much, but I never get tired of th' old tune, an', besides, I'm teachin' my niece Hetty a little fingering now an' then. I want her to have a musical education, you know, an' she can't begin too young." She suddenly arose. "I'm so glad you're feelin' better," she said. "An' now I must see after my tea." And she fluttered from the room. Creston Gray looked after her with an amused smile. Her presence in some Impalpable way seemed to cheer him. He must be getting better. Ho lifted the white hand from .the counterpane. He certainly was better. His appetite and his returning strength both testified to this. It was two long weeks 'since he had looked up in the grizzled face of old Dr. Hamby and murmured, "Are you quite sure you can handle this'.'" And old Dr. Hamby had wagged his good gray beard and gruffly auswered, "Nothing is sure in my profession, young man." He was not a young man, this Creston Gray, capitalist and clubman. But he bore his nine-and-thirty years lightly. He was sound in lung and limb, and this had greatly aided his recovery. Yet it was a grievous hurt. He and Wis gun Caught in the tfnderbrnsh. He had given it a careless Jerk, the deflected muzzle fell in line with his shoulder as the piece was discharged. And here he was cooped up in a tiny New Hampshire farmhouse, with its owner as his nurse and had a fortnight of pain and delirium behind him, and the prospect of two weeks of convalescence ahead. They had brought him here when they found him, and there was -no doubt he had fallen into the hands of Samaritans. "She will take the best of care of you," the old doctor had assured hini. "She ain't • one of your diplomaed and white capped disinfectant spillers. She's plain and she's old-fashioned, but if care and common sense can pull you through she'll do it. And you want me to keep right on with your case, do you?" "Yes, doctor," Creston had feebly responded. "I have confidence in you for one thing, and I don't want the news of my accident to reach New York. There is an invalid mother there, and the shock might—might hurt her. In my pocketbook you will learn who I am and what my town address is. You will use the address if you think it necessary. I leave it all in your hands. I know you—will—do—your—best." His spech trailed oft to a murmur, his eyes closed—the wound had opened afresh. But the old doctor brought him back. Little by little he revived the dying flame, inch by inch he drew him away from the abyss. There were nights when the stranger's life hung by a thread that was frayed to the point of invisibility, but the old doctor never faltered, never admitted possible defeat. He knew the flickering breath was still there, the feeble heart was still responding. That was enough. It was a grand light,*«*■ tlrougJ' It all the woman w«s ev*r at tie 400 tor's side—watchnil» act, gentle, faithful. , And then one morning ph« apt the old man at the door as enwPsd. " Doctor," she softly said,  saved him." His fine old face was darkened ny a frown. "It's the nursing that saved he growled. "But there, I'll WWJomlse with you—we' have saved Im." They stood together by theJaHslde, looking down on_ |he wounded stranger. ''■ "Sleepin' line, ain't tat" the *pa>- an whispered. The old doctor nodded. : jiv "He is going to get well. I woyef if he Is worth all the trouble caused us?" | ' The woman smiled. She k&ewttjf doctor's blunt ways. • "* "You seemed to think he worth savin' when you was workln j over him," she softly said, couldn't have done more for hlmlfjULl had been your own son." ' ~ The doctor glowered at her. V? "My own son?" he repeated. couldn't have done half as much my own son. I'd have thrown up nijr, old hands in the very beginning Mid turned the case over to .the best man who would take It. And then I'd have sat by the door and waited trembling."The woman slowly nodded as If shd understood. "I've never had a son," she softly sighed. So Creston Gray presently came out of his long sleep and dimly realised that he had been wrenched from the grasp of the destroyer. Gruff of voice and tender of heart, rude in speech and gentle In touch, the old doctor he had trusted had fought again for a human life and again conquered. x "You are Just as much indebted to Aunt Hetty Hlngston as you are to me," he told Creston when that Interesting invalid had gathered sufficient strength to be propped up with pillows. "She is a wonder in her little sphere. It's lucky we don't have much sickness around here, or they'd work poor Aunt Hetty to death. When It's a nursing caße they all Want Hetty. She's pulled a lot of people through where Ij've  unearned credit. When JinlfLandon cut himself with an as and severed an artery, Aunt Hetty held the wound tightly closed for five hours before anybody passed by. Jim was a lazy vagabond, and it wouldn't have been a bad idea to let some more of his worthless blood drain out of him. But Aunt Hetty saved him—and she's done a big share toward saving you. She hasn't gagged you with thermometers, nor doped you with hypodermics, but she's been Hettyon-the-spot right through the whole fracas." "How can I pay her for all this care, doctor?" the Invalid asked. "You can't. She asked me to-day if I thought $7 a week was too much to charge you. She said you had been fussing about the bill. I told her to make it $10, but she wouldn't do it. And you mustn't hurt her feelings by offering to pay her more than she asks you. But wait. She has a niece that's named for her, a niece of whom she is very fond. She wants this girl to have a musical education, and thinks she shows a taste for it. She's actually been giving her what she calls lessons." The muffled wail of the old melodeon came to them through the partition. Aunt Hetty's slender bands were wandering over the yellow keys. "Lessons on that!" he chuckled. The eyes of the convalescent suddenly brightened. "Get out your notebook, doctor," he said. "I want you to write another letter. The girl shall have her musical education', and there is something else I have in mind." The doctor drew out his notebook and a stubby pencil. "Go ahead," he said. "I'm willing to do anything for you that I can put into the bill." The white faced smiled up at him. "Doctor," said Creaton, "I consider you an old humbug. How many visits have you made me?" *1 refuse to have any dispute with yon oh this point," returned the old man. "I've pat it'all down somewhere and you'll get the bill in due time. AUd don't flatter yourself I have been calling on yoii merely for 1 exercise, or because your convocation 1 la fasciQytng. Every call, sir, has been a professional.one, as you will I find when you aee the sum total." The lcvalld scowled up a', him. 1 "Bon't make iqtrlaugh, doctor. It ■trains my neck. Here, I'll tell you 1 what I'll do. You Tiave been so busy visiting me—even' coming when you 1 were not Invited—that I'm going to aak you to go to thfl city and be my guest for a week or two." "I can't get away," growled the doctor.. "You'll have what Is called the time- of your life." 1 ."Can't think of It." "And you need the rest and .change." i "Nothing of the sort." 1 ; -And «,rn make you acquainted ,yttb John Templeton, who is a particular friend of mlpe." "Nbt John Howard Templeton, the burgeon?" *?The same. We'll see the town together.".The doctor hesitated. "1 might get away for a day or twtf," he growled. "Of course you lblght. That's settledj-even if the bill isn't." Tge doctor's eyes twinkled. *1 make no deductions for anticipated favors," he said. Toi- days later Creston Gray was pronounced well enough to travel. He "Jraa to eat. his farewell dinner at the ttingaton home and then the old doctor would drive him over to the statlftn and see him aboard the night New York. Apcf.rtght in the midst of the Important dinner preparations, Tommy across tjheereek, youngoat of nlni previously coached by the ddwor'.came to the door and hur- I Aunt Hetty that his mother vim to see her'bout somettyln' parttckler" right" away. "It njf cannln'," he gnetsed. A, reason entirely of hit own Inventing that taad a sound.! V Bat raftfe Aunt Hetty brought the sizzling preparation! trotnrafiner Tommy. ' The half hour she was quite sure to be gone was a busy one for the doc tor and his man, Abner, and Tom Cooper, the expressman, and Creston Gray and dark-eyed Hetty Dawson, the fi&orite niece. ThCTe was a wagon to be backed to the porch and something bulky to be unloaded. But by diligent effort, in which everybody tried to help, it was all accomplished before Aunt Hetty had returned. The wagon had departed, and the three principal conspirators were standing about .the sitting room, looking as unconcerned as possible. Aunt Hetty glanced in at them presently. "Oh, here you are," she cried. Hec Quick gaze roamed about the room. .. S "Why, where—merciful Martha, what's .that!" And she dropped limply into the nearest chair. The old melodeon had gone, and in its place stood a modern upright piano, Its white keys gleaming, its polished case reflecting the old-fashioned objects about it. "Aunt Hetty," Bald Creston Gray a little hurriedly, "this Is a gift to you from one who has learned to know your love for music. When the givet sent for it he had in mind the fact that this promising little woman here," and he laid his hand gently on the younger Hetty's curls, "is to have a musical education, and he believed it would be wise to start her right— that is to say, with all the helpful adjuncts that modern art can offer." He might, having caught the oratorical cadence, have said more, but a flood of tears from Aunt Hetty disconcerted him. She had turned het back and her apron covered her face. Creston stared at the doctor, and the doctor suddenly nodded. At which Creston quickly nodded back. And then, aa if by a common impulse, they strode to the storeroom door and quickly emerged bearing the deposed melodeon. And Aunt Hetty suddenly went to It and loving laid her arm across its dingy surface and looked at them through her tears. "That new piano is very, very beautiful," she half sobbed, "and it's jest what niece Hetty needs—but I can't;—I'm too old—we've been together too long—l can't give up my melodeon!" Must First Sen the Truth. Whoever may discern true ends here shall grow pure enough to love them, brave enough to reach them, and strong enough to reach them, though the road be rough. — E. B. Browning ) . ■ . ■ ■ Children's Sayings. The visitor *u trying to be genial, and asked the small maiden at his side: "Shall I peel your pear, (or yoo, little out" But the «hiUf replied.: "No, fash yon: It's qmlte small enough bow."—Home Chat The Socialists. By ELLIS O. JONES. "And what figure do the socialists sut in your national elections?" inquired the Man From Mars. * "Oh, none at all. None at all," expostulated the Loading Citisen. "That's strange," rejoined the Man From Mars knitting his brow. "I understood that they had grown to considerable proportion^" "Oh, well, they have-grown soma, of course, but then, you know, they are such an impracticable lot of dreamers. Nothing to them* you know, positively nothing." "That's strange," > repeated \h» Man From Mars. "I was talking to »ne of them the other day and what be said sounded rather plausible." "That's ope of the main trbublet with them," explained the Leading Citisen. "They're too plausible, but it won't work, you know, 'won't wort at all." » "What do you do to combat it?'* sontined the Man From Mara. "Nothing at all. Nothing at all That would be a waste'of time. The best way la not to notice them. Ignore them altogether." "Yea, but if they're wrong and yet plausible, they must, indeed, be a danserous lot," suggested the Man Fronft Mare. "Quite so. Quite so," vouchsafed the other.  "But I dare "bay you have argu« ■ ments against them which are more plausible than their own," went on the Marslan. "Arguments! Arguments!"sneered the Leading Citizen. "You can't argue with a bunch of dreamers. The Idea is preposterous." "Yes, but tell f|e what are the shief objections to their claims? 1 »m looking for Information." "What.are their claims?" inquired the Leading Citizen, trying his best to be polite. "That's what I am trying to find out. * I supposed you knew from tn« way you talked." "Not at all. Not at all. Wouldn't 'waste my time on it, sir. Wouldn't waste my time." "I ttiank you Just the same, foi what you havfe told, me," said th« Man From Mars politely, preparing t? go on his way. > Jr "Not at all, air- Not at Ml. JXwt mention It, I beg of you. Good ok? ilr."—From Puck. Pope's Unused Return Ticket. An American gentleman who re- J cently bad a private audience witJi' the Pope relates a touching story pi his experience. He says that His Hoi. iness took from his pocket during/the interview a small, handsomely chased silver box or case, to a purse, and, opening f*?*Tgttowed bis yisitor the unused hklf of a round-trjp railway ticket,from Venice, to Rotne and return. .He explained that when h« came td the conclave of cardinals to a successor to Leo XIII. he purchased that ticket and fully expected it to carry him back to his home, but God changed his plans for him. He did not murmur, although he would much prefer to be in his old home ad< joining St. Mark's Cathedral in Venice and among his beloved parishioners than occupy his exalted but lonely throne In the Vatican. And with tears in his eyes His Holiness said that he kept this little relic always on his person, and it gave him great comfort to take It out and inspect it —Washington Star. Women and Now Money. The cashier, as usual, paid the loom boss In new money — crisp, sweet-smelling bank notes that It was pleasant to handle. "But why Is It?" tie asked, "that you Insist upon new money always? I know you hand avery cent of It to your wife." The loom boss chuckled. "It's easy to see you ain't a married man," said he. "Otherwise you'd know woman's nature better, and wouldn't need to be told the advantages of taking home new money to the wife. The explanation is that women are so fond of new money that they hate to part with it. It makes them economical. They bar* gain for this, they deny themselvef that, and the upshot Is that at the end of each week they have a tidy little Bum, all brand new, put by in a stocking or a teapot. It payß, Will, to give the wife new money. It fray* wmething like twenty per cent." ■. Criticism of Boston. ,It was cruel treatment of Boston ►hat emanated from Sir Dyce Duckworth, the eminent English physician, when he read his recent paper on faith healers and healing in London. He asked his audience first to con, itder the place these ut cults came from—as if the place of origin had mnch to do with the main question. 'As regards this new doctrine," be lays, "we find first that It comes from America. That to my mind at once irouses suspicion. Jt eomes from Boston, a city t know well, htfring twice visited it—a city which Is • per- Minlsl source of false dextrine and irhieh produces *»d contains more aneUble men and women than any Xter city 1 know."—Sgrlngftetd Hephlleu.HINT ON HORTICULTURE SPLIT-POLE FRUIT LADDER. To make * spli&pole fruit ladder u Kansas subscriber writes aa follows: "Hip a pole until within about a foot and a hatf of ijje end and here wrap a wire tiihJJjr arenind 1t.,t0 keep it from splitting further whiten yott spring it to put la tjie rvun<4 '4,Jhls ladder la excellent tor' ploklr'1® Jrult, •8 the top 4nd Js haftdy totjjft up against any ctotch of the whit* the two* ends at the < bottom ke«p •it trojn turning."  STRIPED BEETLE. Cucumbers, tneiotas, squashes and home other plants are Injured by the striped beetle, with whltfh oil farmers and gardeners are acquainted Spray or dust with paris green solution or powder. If the patch is small, «ach hill may "be covered witfo screens. The same plants and their trult are | liable, to inlnry from anthracnose 1 and downy mildew. { Repeated spray* ing with Bordeaux \ mixture about every ten days will/help in keeping these diseases In check, thus enabling the grower to make] a fair crop where otherwise he woulq have made very small yield.—Farmers' Home Jour* nal. | SEED BED SOIL. Amateurs areWrten perplexed 6ver the beat kind ot-Soll to use In starting plants. There lis no need for anxiety, over this aueatftpn -The two great essentials for samTsowing are hamu and t garden or farm^aoll practice la to  pafrta of soil, the best procurable, 080 part of sand «nd one part ot leaf pold. If the soil is naturally of a /loamy character, the addition of sand and leaf mold may he unnecessary. A soil Is desirable which will take water freely and will not bake.—lndianapolis News. SETTING FRUIT TREES. There was a number of orders for trult trees delivered by a local agent to farmers In thlß section last November, just after the full of the moon. Some of the farmers set their treea out immediately, while others heeled theirs In until after the new moon, claiming that trees set out in the dark of the moon would not come Into bearing near so soon as those set In the new or light of the moon. Will the editor, or some of the frutt growers that have taken any notice ol this. In setting trees, answer through the columns of the Farmer?—A Subscriber.We have taken no notice of the result of moon influence on tree plantingl, bjit have no faith in the theory. If the trees were well heeled in they will come out all right In the spring, and if the ground was moist enough and the trees were well set In Novetnthey will do well next spring, moon or mo moon.—lndiana Farmer. FRUITS. The cultivation in tne orchard should be discontinued about the first of the month. At the last cultivation sow a cover of vetch or something similar. This will take water from the soil, thus helping the trees to ripen up the wood and will also serve to catch snow for protecting the ground during the winter. Plant pot-grown strawberries for fruit next summer. Prune the raspberries; take out all the old wood, leaving all the .new growth, which was made this year. The old canes should be burned. You can increase the number of currant bushes by making cuttings of the ripened wood during the Utter part of the mqnth. Tie them up in bunfches and pack them away in damp sand and store In a cool cellar. Next spring the cutting* will have ealloused, when they can be planted oat in the rows. Have the cuttings *1* Inches apart in the row and the rows far eacrogh apart so that ttisr nag'lt Cultivated. Spraying must be conUnaiiiMpg the greater part of this ■MoBpa order to "cheek the dlsHMKaHn* tarty oa the apples. Where tspjrult is large and.there la daager Otspotting It ..with Bordeaux mixta* , wag with an ammonlaeal copper earboa sotutloa; it will not s*»la —ladl aa« apollkNews. , plat mm fnotfli SIM... ' j''.l • . ■ jsjurnaqitg 8 Qqe jsjope. |j\(j "In the twentieth century War Will be deed, the scaffold Witt be dead, artimoj ity Witt be dead, royalty Witt be dead and Wit! be dead; but man Witt I liVe.—por alt there Wilt be but ona country— country tJje whole earth, for all there Witt be but ona hop*—tl|«t Hope the Whole h»*Nton—Viclor Hugo.