Barnwell sentinel. (Barnwell C.H., S.C.) 185?-1925, August 21, 1919, Image 2
SENTINEL, BARNWELL, S. 0
(■fared Info mine, and there wan ah
ther -fear nor recognition In them. 8h«
NUvfyllj dress***!, and the bed hnd
n<n li<M'n occupied
l- flung myself at her feet. I tnnk
the weapon from her hand. “Jacque
line!” I cried In terror. I raised her
hands to my' lips 'rtlld caressed .(hern.
She seemed quite.Unresponsive. ' _
"Jnsquellne,” I 'efle»l,-'“you are no*
hurt-? ~Th«nk God yA ure .not hurt.
What hns happened?".
Reasonable Service
By REV. W. W. KETCHUM
Director of the Evening Ctneea,
Moody Bible Institute. Chicago
TEXT—I beseech you therefore, breth
ren, by the mercies of Qod, that ye pre
sent your bodies a living sacrifice, holy,
acceptable unto Qod, which. Is your rea
sonable service. And be not conformed
to this world: but be ye transformed by
the renewing ofyour mind, that ye may
prove what ia^lMt good? and acceptable,
and perfect will of Qod.—Rom. 12:1-2.
Before we consider -this text it
should be noted that these words are
. urged upon the
with Ua^eyiL This unques-
neans that we ~xTialT bo
this cause us humiliation we
be perfectly wttttng to suffer
mTght
J^fetor Rousseau RiVCT
Copyright W. O. Chapman
NE!
JACQUEL
Paul Hewlett, loitering at night
lg Madlsoif square, New York, Is
iftpro&ched by an Esklrno do^ He
follows the dog to A gambling Housq
and meets Jhe anlmaiV mistress
coming out with a large amount of
money. She le beautiful and In dis
tress and he follows her. After
C otecting her from two assailants
i takes her in charge.
CHAPTER I—Continued.
' 2—
When Ihc taxicab deposited as In
frnat of the house I glanced hastily
up and down the road. There was
another cab at the east end of the
but I could not discern If It
approaching me or stationary. 1
opened the front door quickly and ad
mitted my companion, then preceded
bee up the uncarpeted stairs to my
Httlo apartment on the top floor.
As I opened the door of my apart-
wietit the dog pushed past me. Again
1 had forgotten It; hut It had not for
gotten its mistress.
TUI tomorrow, mademoiselle.** .1
‘And won't you tell me your
- Jicqaellnw" the answered. "And
rr
-Paul,** 1 a«»d.
"An revolr. honsleur Paul, then, and
take my gratitude with you for your
goadne** **
I let her hand fall and hurried down
Cha again, confused and rhokiog. for
was a wedding ring u|« n her
wiien at last t found my door my
hnndsfwere trembling so thae T cnnlt!
hardly fit the key Into the lock.
I Bounded up the statrs. But on the
top story I had to pause to get my
breath, and then I dared not enter. - I
listened outside. There was no sound
from within.
The two rooms that I occupied were
separated only by a curtijXh, which fell'
short a foot from the floor and was
Hung on a wooden pole, rflsdwtng tjwvr
feet between the top of It and the
celling. The rooms were thos actually
one, and even that might have been
called small, for the bed Itf the rear
room was not a do*en paces from the.
door. »
I listened' For the lirearhlng of the
sleeping girl'. If I could hear her
breathe, I thought I would go quietly
hwhV and And a hotel (a which to
steep: ■ i listened minute after minute,
hut I could not hear a sound.
At la at I put my mouth to the key
hole and spoke to her. “Jacqueline,"
I railed. There wa* no answer.
Then a little louder: '“Jurquellm*!"
And then quite loudly: “Jacque
line!"
Then, out of the alienee, hammering
on my eardrum*. Intent -the Uuul ticiu
; trig of tbe little alarm dock that I
! hid left on the mnntei bf < he 4t*4eaM*r
I I heard ilwtt. nnd it muV have* been
ticking minutes before the sound
reached me; perhaps |f I waited a
little longer I should hear her breath
ing
I took the key of Lhg apartment
from my pocket at -hist »t»fl fl4*e«i 4
noiselessly Into the lock. I >too«l
there, trembling and Irresolute. 1
dared not torVi the key.
Once more I ventured:
“Jacqueline! Jacqueline *"
There was not tba afnallest answer
ing stir within. And ao. wlth{h >wing
fingers. 1 turned the key.
The room «u completely dark, ex
cept for a little patch of light high up
on the bedroom wall, which came
through l he hole the workmen had
made when they began demolishing
CHARTER II.
Back In the Room,
situation had become more
teroua than ever. Two hours
ire tt would have been unlmagtn-
1; ooe hour ago I had merely been
tng aid to a young woman In dta-
now she was occupying my
and I was hurrying along Tenth
rr*»tess as to my destination
feeling*is though the whole world
rramhUnf about my head because
ha wore a wedding ring.
Aa I pqascd up the street the taxi-
ib which 1 had seen at the east end
rapidly reward me. It passed
I stopped and leuked after It. 1
certain that It slackened speed
outside the door of the old building
hut agsin It went on quickly until It
was lost to view In the distance.
Had I given the pursuers a clue by
ay reappearance?
I votwhed for a few moments longer,
bat th* vehicle did not return and I
•amiss***! *he Idea as f**Uy After all.
New York a civilised city, and I
could he sure a? tjie girl's safety be
hind the street dwV lfvcTc ihd lhat of
my apartment door. So I refused to
yield to tba Impulse to go back and
assure myself that she wa* all right.
I moat find a hotel .and g't a good
night's sleep.
As I went on new thought* began
to press on oiy lmagi nation. The tale
about the father, the assumed Igno
rance of the conventions—how much
could be yeleved?
Had she^ijjt .probably left h-Tr bus
^and In sont* Canadian city and come “The-’ Seen* Stamped Itself Upon
to New Yori to enjoy lier holiday In j Brain,
her own fashion? Could *lie inno
cently have adventured to DalyT door
nnd actually have succeeded In gain
ing admission? «
Perhaps she was worse than I was
•ven now Imagining!
Perhaps, If I had not left hfr—por-
hspe, If I turned hack— I clenched
my fists and hurried on. I would not
give rein to the thoughts that were
making my heart bound like a run
away horse.
I had turned up Fifth avenue^and
had reached Twelfth or Thirteenth
Otreot when I thought I heard the pat
ter of the Eskimo dog’s feet behind
me. I spun around, startled, but there
was only the long stretch of pavement.
I had resu ned my course when I was
mire I heaid the pattering again. And
again I sow nothing.
A moment later I wns hurrying buck
award the apartment house. My
serves bad suddenly become unstrung.
I fait sure now that game' imminent
danger was threatening Jacqueliue. I
could not hear the suspense of wan
ing tUl more lug
And as I ran I thought I heard the
patter of the dog's feet, pacing mine.
I «n rounding tbe corner of Tenth
now, anfi again the folly ot my
ivtor arrack home to me. I Jtopped
tried to think. W11 it xoa»e ID-
My
don’t know where I am.”
“Jacqueline, dear,” I said, “will you
not - try to think? I am f’nul—your
friend I’uul., Do you not rein ember
me?" --
“No, monsieur,” she sighed.
“But, then, how did you come here,
Jacqueline?" I asked.
"I do nojL knaw,” she answered.
And, a moineritTater, “I do not know’,
Paul.” „ ~ A-'-
That encouraged me a little. KV1-
.defitly she ^remembered what I had
just -said 1 to^or, -!.
There was something more to be
said, though It was'hard.
“Jacqueline, who—wns—that?”
“RYlin?” she inquired, looking at -tne-•
with the sntne patient, wistful gaze.
“That man, Juequellne. That dead
man.” _y-
_. “What death man, Paul?"> .—
She was scaring straight at the
body, and at that moment I realized
that she not only did not remember,
but did not even see It.
The shock which she had received,
supervening upon ‘ the hervous state
In which v she had been when I en
countered Iter; had produced one orf
those mental inhibit lens in wtrtch the
mlnd^to save the rgnson, obliterate*
temporarily not only all memory of
the past hut also all present *!gtit*
and. sounds which may sene to re
call It.
I sow that It an* useleo* to aay
anything more upon this subject.
“You are very tired, Jacqueline?**
I n*ked. J
“Yes. monsieur." she a ns wared,
leaning back against my arm.
“And you would like to Bleep?**
-"Yea., monsieur." „
I raised her >n my arm* and laid
bar uu the tied, telling her to close ,
fiFf“eyes fcTPT creep: WTte' wax'OXteep *
almost tmmedlnrety after her brad
rested the pillow. . I
I watched her for a while until I
heard a distant rlork strike three, j
This recalled me to the danger* of
our situation. 1 struck, a match and 1
lit the gas In the bedroom. But the
yellow glare, was so ghastly End In
tolerable that I turned it down.
And then I net lUmt the ta*ka ke
fore me.
HATS THAT AWAIT AUTUMN
—1
the renw-mbra-nee at Jinj tellne'*
rf Wu It Ml Ike ties!re to
fee. to id her about the Haj?
1
I toard d» jfurrtr patter §t the fort
I
the building. I hesitated h moment,
then I drew a match from my -fiotket
gnd rubbed it softly into n * Hants
against my trousers letf.
I rercited up to the gas above the,
table, turned it on and lit I he incar -
descent mantle, lowering the light Im
mediately. But even then there was
no sound.
The oppressive stillness was’-not
that of solitqde.- She must he awake;
she must be listening In terror.
I went toward the curtains and
when I spoke I heard the word* come
through my lips In a yolee that I
could not recognize as mine.-
"Jacqueline!" I whispered, “It Is
Paul, your friend. Are' you safe,
Jacqueline?”
Now'I saw, under the Curtains, what
looked like the body of a very small
anitnaJ. It might have been a woolly
dog cr n black lambkin, aud it was'
Vlng perfectly still.
I pulled aside the curtains and stood
between Them, and the scene stamped
Itself upon my brain as dear as a pho
tographic print forever. •
The woolly beast was the fur cap of
a dead man who lay across the floor j
of the little 4YW>m t There \yas n tiny
hole In his hrHtrft. qvei; the heart, from 1
which a little Mood had flowed. The
wound had pienvd tbe heart and
* CHAPTER III.
<| *
Covering the Tracka.
There wa* a fire escape mowing
op to the floor of that room 00 the
outside of fhe house. I saw that It
would he |ioM*lhle bv standing on a
chair to awing myself up to the hola
In the wall and reach down to the Iron
Malm Up which. I assumed, the dead
man had crept after 1 had glten him
the hint of Jacqtieline'a ahoda by
emerging from the front d«*or«. .
1 raised the dead own iu-iuy arm*,
looking apprehensively toward the
bed. I was afraid Jacqueline would
awaken, but she slept in heavy peace,
undlaturbed by the harsh creaking of
the sagging floor^ beneath Ita double -
burden. I put the fur rap on the gro
tesque, nodding dead bead, and. push*.,
tng a chair toward the wall with my
foot, mounted It and managed with a
great effort to squeeze through the
hole, pulling up the Sody with me ax I
did' so. —
Then I felt with my foot for the
little platform at the top of tbe Iron
stairs outside, found It, and dropped.
Afterward I dragged the dreadful bur
den down from the hole.
Kcarried tbe deMd man all the way
down fhe fire escape, rttngtng and
straining", against the rotting, rusting^
bars.
At the back of tbe house wns a little
vacant space, filled with heaps of de
bris front the demolished portions of
the building and with refuse which
hnd been dumped there by {j'nanti
who had left, and had never been' re
moved. This yard was separated oply
by n rotting fence with a single waxtd*
en rail from n small blind alley—
I took up my burden and placed it
at tho end of the alley, egyering It-
roughl.v with some old burlap bags
which lay there. I thought it safe to
^ssmne that the police, would . look
upon the dead iuan as the -vkajm of
some footpad. ' -
Hewlett plans to protect
Jacqueline from the cons£
. quences of what he believes
is her deed and to take her
to her home.
(TO BE'CONTINUED.)
Unlucky -Thirteen. ^ ’
A correspondent suggests thpt thi
origin of the "unlucky thirteen" super
stition is to he found hi'the casting
lots by finnan to discover a “lucky
day" “Ipr-tbe destruction of the Jews.
Tin* 13tlu,wns cejrainly n n»«*»t unfor
tunate selection in tills' case, and the
story was *0 -p**pulnr in ithe odtldle
ages that it may renliy bnve give*
rise to the sup^rstitbio.
the! »•* uktng me back, or «ai death had evidently i^-eo lastantane-
f*a
|t the IBM whMB I
eta ring at ns acruws Herald square «*
the artndnar -JacqwHtne
•ad at her feet lay (he E*-
•sifkkg nw MWdf In
dn held a Bey. <aq»mi»
a
t.tfe.
- A specie* of the acacia tree attain*
a height at about eight fee*. * When
foil grown It Hmm Ita lease* together
In rails each day at
tied II win Antser Hal ratty If
and ft (ha
A
saved and not the
unsaved. God
does not ask the
unsaved, as such,
to do "what Is
here urged; rath
er asks them Jp
accept Christ ITs
their Savior, and
- when they have
done that he en
joins npon them
the exhortations
of this text.
-►— The first thing
Mpf> jl[ r* M enjoined in the
Jjc , 4 i|J A text is to present
our bodies a liv
ing sacrifice^ There la nothing in this
Injunction that even hints at asceticism.
It is simply an exhortation to devote
to God our bodies which rightly be
long to hlm.^ This is a reasonable
service, an'd we’sfiall understand it to
be such If we keep in mind that even
our bodies do not belong to us but to
God. and that they are th* temples of
the Holy Spirit (I Cor. 6:10-80).
We nop naturally ask. how shall we
present our txHlIes as a living sacri
fice? If w© turn fo the sixth chapter
of Romans w*e shall find the answer to
this question. 'In Fhat chapter we
read, “Let not sin therefore reign In
yrmr tnortirt body, that ye shouM -obey
It In the lust thereof; neither yield ye
your members as instruments of un
righteousness unto Bin; nut yield your
selves unto God. as those that are
alive from the dead, and your members
■•JnainMMata
The second thing urged Upon us by
our text la noncomformlty to this age:
"Be not conformed to this world." or
as better rendered, “to this age." This,
If jft means anything, means that w*
are not to be like tbe time In which
we live, which la called evil by the
word of God. Paul's expression con
cerning It la, "This evil age." In thus
characterizing the age In which we
live, Paul does- not necessarily mean
that everything In It Is bad. bat rather
that evil la Its distinguishing or char
acteristic mark. It was with knowl
edge of this fact that Jesus. In bla In
tercessory prayer, prayed for his
disciples of all time, saying. "I pray
not that thou skouldst take them out
of tbe world, but that thou ahouklst
keep them from the evil."
It should be evident to all that this
Injunction means that we as Christians
are not to fashion our lives after thlb
age so that they correspond with it,
but we are to take a position toward
this age that will put us out of corre-
tlonably means that
obliged oftentimes to decline to allow
our lives to be governed by the habits
and customs of our times. We cannot.
If we obey God, be In agreement
those things that are pontrary-to the
standard which God has set for us.
This may mean that we shall be con
sidered by the world a queer people,
but If this cause us
should
■Shame for Christ’s sajve.— ln fact, the
word of God tells us thht Joshs Christ
“gave himself for us that he
redeem us from all Iniquity nnd purify
unto himself a peculiar people, zealous
of good works.”
The third Injunction of our text Is,
"Be ye transformed by the renewing
of your mind.” - More, you 'see, Is ex
pected of us ns Christians than non
conformity to this age. We are to be
not only unlike 1t, but entirely differ
ent from It. The word “transformed"
Is the sapie word translated “trans
figured” in the—accounts concerning
Christ when he took Peter, James and
John with him into the mountain,
apart from thk rest of the disciples,
and was, if w’e now use the word of
our text, “transformed” before them.
Tbe^ngqpunts tellers that “His face did
shine as the sun. and his raiment was
white as the light.” -Of course it is
not expected of us that we shall have
such a supernatural appearance as did
Christ, but that our life shall partake
of the characteristics of that Country
toward \yhloh we are traveling, so
that those who "see,us shall know by
our conduct that our citizenship is In
TIT r :—~7~
’ The text tells us the diTine way by
which we may be transformed. It is
“by the renewing of the mind." If we
turn to Titus 3:. r » we shall see that this
is the work In us of the- Holy Spirit.
There we rend of the “reuewlng of the
Holy Ghost." Brethren. If we are to
be unlike this age. and like the age to
come. It will be only ax we allow God,
through the Holy SpldC to “renew our
'■tiff!*.** *—-
The time will soon be here for those
exciting and fascinating excursions to
the millinery shop In search of new
irvUTTnoi-.r; Trf whtdr mtHr l» oxpectexL
The old millinery axiom that a hat is
becoming when one looks better wlfli
It pn than WtthootUt, is a good thing
To bear fn TnTnd’ Af the Tffy letlst *We
expect hats, like mirrors, to “be to
our faults a little blind, nnd to our vir
tue* not unkind.” Just how much tbe
, right shape and the right color* can
do to transform's fnce. Is,measured
1 often by the long price which a small
bit o£ millinery .command*., fi u the
Intangible In millinery that I* worth
» mure, than anything el*c—the color
harmony,—the beautifully bnIance«T
[ “ttnev, - -tttwpotse-- of -the- Hut on the-
! • Mud its appropriateness n •? Iff
1 worth jnore than mere material.
No one undersrnndx this quite so
well a* the woman who hn« reached
middle life, *or passed It. She expert*
/bar hats to <k^«uueh for-her In the
way of enhancing her good point*, and
designer* who Kpi-rliliiB successfully
1 In tiratfwear for matrons turn fabric*
Into gold. 'Owe of their promt
j ne*TnwW« Is shown -at the right of
. th* group of three hats picture*} abov*.
It l* made of btnek sntin nn,d th*
top of the crown Hw—soft. Narrow,
looped silk fringe, very brilliantly
black, makes'a wide Irregular band
about th* crown and tln-rela a narrow
brim with lines that b* In ‘easy
curves about the head.
—TfleTiiTT nTWTcTT.'ThTTnrTTrT.T IW*
I or more, makes a picture on the head
j that boasts soft 'curl*. It* crown Is
of felt In section* Joined In seams that
1 are outlined with stitches of wool ynrn
| and tit** rolling brim Is also of yarn,
1 apparently cmcheted Into shape. At
j the,-base of each seam fn the crown
a pair of pert little leaves support a
diminutive apple. A1im*M any little
girl "will loo* WFTI 111 Tttts ptr-tneevqw*
1 WIT. 7"
T "ThF RUT XTTttwtimrnm of the plctura.--
1 made f‘*r a young woman. Is a dressy
affair of silver tissue wltfi an odd trim
ming t wining about th* crown. Tbe
I trimming Is likely tohe made of twist-
’ ed ribbon with a fancy edge, but might
be of silver tissue or georgette. Tti*
maker of trimming* I* no respecter of
‘fabrics, taking nn>thing that lx wlth-
j In reach and fashioning It Into suns
thing new and atrange and nearly nl-
,wnys beautiful.
AMERICAN MADE UNDERMUSLINS
Recently American manufacturers
of uitderwear have thought so well of
their achievement's that they have pro
claimed themselves as the designers
jof the styles now favored in lingerie.
They certainly are justified in taking
pride in the daintiness and attractive
ness of the garments they make in
such quantities and they find it easy
to cultivate a .taste for fine tvndeffnus-
lins. American women are appreci-
ativej, but they are also practical and with' short kimono sleeves and
they demand pretty but not too fragile
garments. Few of them run to the
extreme of wearing chiffon or georg
ette In undies, or carp for bizarre'de
signing. In the main they like fine
weaves in cotton or crepe de chine for
materials, not too much trimmed with
.fine and durable laces'-hand embroid
ery and ' other needlework. Hand
Crochet in htecs holds Its own with
them, _«md - has* everythig to recom
mend ft. •— r
Of course not much handwork Is to
be found on manufactured undertnus-
IIn*. but machinery has been made to
do wonderful work and sometimes xo
ing the neck, armholes and bottom
the knickers edged with narrow val
lace. SniaU sprays of prim daisies,
tied with bow knots adorn the front
of the body and appear on tjie pants.
The special glory of this garment is
a sash of satin ribb#n_ that* slips
through slit's about the waistline and
ties^nt one side. Very narrow ribbon
gathers in the fullness at the top and
It is run through beading. *
A nightdress of nainsook is shown.
round neck. Jts edges are scalloped
nnd buttonhole stitched nnd there is
a . pretty band of needlework around
the neck and.,shoulders. Detachable
bows and rosettes of ribbon, that fast
en with,little safety pins, are nmong
the treasures that some women own,
nnd they add these pretty frivolities
to their undergarments, pinning them
on. *
Tire pajamas tn the picture are
made of crepe de chine nnd embroid
ered with colored silks. One findstnll
these garments In crepe de rhine and
also In flesh-tone cotton mull. in. the
l!r.ng ran fine -white **otton gnwl*,
prove their worth hy standing wear
effectively that comparisons with hand-
worE are md by any mean* “di.m* to | WMhlnjf perfectly
the machine-made garment. Some-
Ingraditnts c' Virtu*.
God create
times the plain aew tng on undermux- !
line Is dope—by luaetiinety and the
decoration hy jumd But however
they may to pal together and Snixtied.
the style* are about the same la under*
■Velour f*r Worts.
the fatorita* ta th*
S'-
,4
JL