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THE SUN, NEWBERRY, S. C„ FRIDAY, AUGUST 4, 1939 Smart New Fashions For Now and Later rjERE’S a charming new pat- tern (1784) that gives you a pretty sleeveless dress, with a jacket that transforms it into the nicest kind of street suit. It’s de lightfully simple and cool—very easy to make, with flattering frills as the only trimming. Chiffon, georgette, silk print, flat crepe and linen are smart materials for this fashion. There’s a place in every girl’s life for the smart little play suit and suspender skirt that buttons all down the front. Cool, comfort able and easy-to-wear for summei play, it will be nice for school in the fall too. The shorts are be comingly flared, and the blouse has a becoming sports collar. Gingham, pique, linen and broad cloth are nice cottons for this out fit, 1786. No. 1784 is designed for sizes 14, 16, 18, 20; 40 and 42. Size 16 re quires 6% yards of 39-inch fabric, without nap for dress and jacket with three-quarter sleeves; 2Vt yards of trimming. No. 1786 is designed for sizes 8, 10, 12 and 14 years. Size 10 re quires 1% yards of 35-inch fabric, for blouse; IVb yards for shorts; 1% yards for the skirt, without nap. Send your order to The Sewing Circle Pattern Dept., Room 1324, 211 W. Wacker Dr., Chicago, 111. Price of patterns, 15 cents (in coins) each. (BeU Syndicate—WNU Service.) CHILLS AND FEVER Here's Relief From Malarial Don’t let Malaria torture you! Don’t shiver with chills and bum with fever. At first sign of Malaria, take Grove’s Tasteless Ctyll Tonic. A real Malaria medicine. Made espe cially for the purpose. Contains tasteless quinidine and iron. Grove’s Tasteless Chill Tonic ac tually combats Malaria infection in the blood. It relieves the freezing chills, the burning fever. Helps you feel better fast. Thousands take Grove’s Tasteless Chill Tonic for Malaria and swear by it. Pleasant to take, too. Even children take it without a whimper. Don’t shiver and bum. At Ma laria’s first sign take Grove’s Taste less Chill Tonic. At all drugstores. Buy the large size as it gives you much more for your money. Decisive Spirit When a firm decisive spirit is recognized, it is curious to see how the space clears around a man and leaves him room and freedom.—John Foster. Two Powers The two powers which, in my opinion, constitute a wise man are bearing and forbearing.—Epicte tus. A wonderful old for boil* where a drawing agent la Indicated. Soothing and eomforting. Fine for chil dren and grown-up*. Prac tical. Economical. GRAYS OINTMENT 25‘ Always m Duty It is an everlasting duty—the duty of being brave.—Carlyle. KILL ALL FUES Placed anywhere. Daisy Ftr I Killer attracts and kills flies. Guaranteed, effective. Neat, I convenient — Cannot spill— | Wlllnot soil orinjure anythin Lasts all season. 20c at t . , dealers. Harold Somers, Inc., 160 De Kalb Ave.3'klyn^.Y. DAISY FLY KILLER sOnlyS Good Merchandise Can Be CONSISTENTLY Advertised • BUY ADVERTISED GOODS • Mountain man ' /l Beuutea fyictiOM. Sesiiol By HAROLD CHANNING WIRE CHAPTER XXII—Continued —21— From behind the rock, Breck lev eled his gun on a black opening between two giant trunks that stood like gate posts at the opposite end of the bridge. Sound of approach came nearer. The riders would first pass through a hollow where trees grew thick. Abruptly a horse thrust its white face between the two trunks. It came on. Another followed. “Pardner!” *T see,” Breck whispered. He steadied his aim over the flat rock top. ‘‘Wait till they get on the bridge,” Sierra advised. "Call out once. If they move to break away, let ’em have it." Breck watched behind his sights. Jud rode in the lead, straight, alert. Hep crouched in his saddle. They came upon the narrow bridge with horses walking nose to tail; reached the center. Breck rose with a com mand that was never uttered. All in a split second the two horses were plunging on with saddles emp ty. Though watching the spot, sides that, she had to get old Tom and the Senator out.” He mounted, giving orders, "You ride that north canyon. JG and some of his boys are up there. Slim and I will go to a bunch working on Nine Mile. Do what you can; God knows we’re blind without a wire to Kern Peak." What they could do was little enough. Breck realized that when he came upon Jackson and a hand ful of cowpunchers. The cowman met him, grim-faced, as he said, "We’ve done our damnedest. Rang er.” Breck took up his tools and plunged into the endless job of clear ing brush. But only a giant, able to tear trees by the roots, could have held the blaze that swept steadily upward. Night came; men had to sleep. They dropped on the ground for two-hour turns, Breck waiting until his legs collapsed beneath him. Dawn rose over that most desolate of sights—a mountain range being laid waste. Throughout the morn ing Breck flung his wearied crew against the line, yet they were blocked. Even as they built back Breck sprang up. Sparks were eating the cloth of his shirt. Breck scarcely caught a glimpse of two bodies hurtling downward into the gorge. He whirled to Sierra. Sierra faced'him. Neither had shot, yet the mountains still echoed to the crack of guns. "Rifles!” Sierra gasped. “Back of us!” Breck turned. "The nesters?” Up the bank behind them, horses were being hard-ridden to the crest. They passed over and the sound died. Sierra leaped from the rock. “No use following up there now! We’ve got to get out of here. That fire’s traveling!” "Wait,” said Breck. “I want to be sure of this.” “Them two didn’t live to hit bot tom!” Sierra flung out. “Come on!” But Breck ran to the bridge, knelt and peered over. Only white wa ter, foaming through jagged rocks «f the gorge, met his eyes. He stared at it, drawn tense by a vision of Hep Tillson’s treacherous face. The man who had killed Jim Cotter was dead! “Pardner!” Breck sprang up. Sparks were eating the cloth of his shirt. A red wave curled over the opposite ridge. “We’ve got to move,” Sierra shouted. "Cook will be needing us bad!” CHAPTER XXIII Cook did need them. They climbed a ridge east of Sulphur and looked across to a small round meadow halfway up Kern Peak’s flank. Fire had already swept two sides of Indian Rock. The blaze coming up at their backs would soon complete the circle. All the country for miles both north and south lay under smoke. “Sierra swung from his horse. "Ought to begin here and make our firebreak on the way down,” he ad vised. It was past noon when they had finished a break and rode into camp. Cook was there. "Saw you coming,” he said brief ly. “It’s a good job you did yon der. How about the Sulphur busi ness?” "Nesters saved us a couple of ■hots,” was Sierra’s laconic report. “Where’s L.ouise?” Breck asked. “Gone out. It looked like we were going to be surrounded and some one had to reach a telephone. She’s trying to make it to your station.” “Rock House?” Breck gasped. "Good God!” He looked south into a pall of smoke. “That whole trail’s under fire!” “I know it,” Cook admitted. “Someone had to go, and she wouldn’t let me spare a man. Be- fires in one canyon, spots flared fur ther on. Toward noon he rode to a bald knob, hoping to get some idea of their position. He was half an hour in climbing up and found that the point v/hich had seemed so high was still lower than those around it. He sat numbed in mind and body. In another day the whole South Sierra would be stripped. Only a miracle could save the forest. He did not believe in miracles, though as he rested on the knob there sounded a far-off droning. It puzzled him; recognition of its mag ic came slowly. Then suddenly he knew. Not the miracle of rain from a cloudless sky, nor an unseen hand beating back the flames, but of a winged man. The droning surged into a roar as a white ship burst through rolls of smoke. It shot close over his posi tion and he read the letters: USES. From somewhere word had gone outside! Swept with grateful impulse he lifted clasped hands high toward it. The plane banked as if answering, circled, and upon passing once more, dropped a long white ribbon. Breck rushed to it, found a small bag weighted with sand, then a tube of paper. “Relief,” it said, “coming in from Sequoia.” Swinging upon Kit, he raced from the knob and shouted the magic word to his men below. “They’ve got us located, boys. We’ll get re lief now.” The plane’s promise was not ful filled through the afternoon nor in the first hours of dark. But about midnight Breck saw back fires springing up over a ten mile front both north and south, and by morn ing the line was almost solid. Hun dreds of men must have poured up Kern River gap under the air pa trol’s direction. It was a little before mid-day that a lean, brown-faced man rode in at the head of an emergency crew. He halted among Jackson’s cow boys and swung off. “I guess you fel lows have had enough of it. Is Breck here?” Breck went to him. “I’m Green,” the man said, "from Sequoia. We’ll finish this. Cook says for you to meet him at Temple Meadow.” “Did you get the call through Rock House Station?” Breck asked, his first thought for Louise. “I don’t know,” Green answered. Fear shot strength into Breck’s deadened body. He threw on his saddle and rode at once. All the way as he climbed a summit then dropped into Long Canyon, a dread goaded him on. A familiar spot in the canyon momentarily turned .Vis thoughts to another day. Here he had saved Louise Irom the cattle stampede. He had car ried her home in his arms. They yearned for her now. That day he had not known what it was to love. Desperation swept upon him. He could make life happy for her. She could paint. They would live below . . . winters. But summers they must come back. Realization of that struck him forcibly. Bound into his love for Louise, growing out of it, was a love for the High Si erras. Temple Meadow, since he last saw it, had changed from fiesta grounds to hospital ward. He loped in before evening, coming among cots beneath the pines where men lay asleep with arms and faces in white cloths. Dad Cook came from a shed and hailed him. “Dam’ me if you don’t look like an old-timer. Mountain man for sure! Son, you’ve earned a rest and you’d better grab it. Slim’s getting his.” “Louise here?” Breck asked, even before he reached the ground. “In the cabin. She’s all right. Been worried?” Breck dropped upon a log, relaxed tension suddenly leaving him un steadied. “Better turn in,” Cook advised him, “and count this job done. We’ve got some black forest, but she’s otherwise cleaned up.” He paused, drawing an envelope from his pocket. “Here’s something for you. The Senator’s party went out with the first pack train. Had enough mountains, but he knows a sight more than when he came in. I think we’ll name a trail for him yet.” Breck tore open the letter. It was from Irene. He expected some thing, not knowing exactly what. A change of some sort. But here was still the evasive writing, poured out in unfinished thoughts—until the end. There she wrote: “Arthur is a dear boy, Gordon. Don’t put him in jail. I lied to him beautifully. We quite understand each other now.” “What about Art?” Breck asked. “The doctor packed him down last night. He’ll pull through. “I mean what are we to do about him." Without hesitation Cook answered, “Give him a chance. You’re fin ished with the Tillsons. Hep was the one. Ask Louy.” But when Breck found Louise, it was not to ask her that. She came from Temple’s shanty, softly clos ing the door. Her eyes welcomed him, yet were filled with trouble. “Your father is worse?” he asked. She nodded. “The fire was too much. He shouldn’t have gone.” They moved from the cabin and Breck led her into the pines where the words would not carry back. “Louise, I’m going to send your fa ther out. I know a surgeon. He’ll do wonders.” She stood with eyes averted, though one hand clasped his tightly. “While he is there,” Breck con tinued, “you and I will work two jobs—the forest and the ranch.” He hesitated. It had never occurred to him that it would be hard to tell this girl he loved her. Now he seemed wordless. He wished she would help. She looked up. “We?” That was enough. His arms swept her close. “We, yes, you and I to gether. Louise 1 I love you, want you always.” All at once words rushed too swiftly where there had been none. “We can live the life we have talked about. Outside, then here. You need not answer now— not until you know more of me.” “Know you!” Her eyes and her voice checked him.. “Don’t I know you? Haven’t you shown me what you are, over and over again?” “But nothing of who I am,” he asserted. “And of course that matters I” “Doesn’t it?” “No.” Gently she lifted her hands to his face, drawing him down. “Not here nor any place I know of! And if you want my answer at all, take it now.” [THE END.] Middle Ages Attempted to Guard From Infection; 'Cholera Man* Wore Costume The dangers of contagion have been known for centuries, but the use of sensible, efficient measures to guard against contagion had to wait for the discoveries of the mod ern sciences of bacteriology and chemistry. An idea of how the Middle ages attempted to guard from infection the “cholera man” who was called upon to care for cholera patients is afforded in the directions prescrib ing the costume which the “chol era man” was to wear. To resist the dread disease he was to be equipped, according to the best advice of those days, as fol lows: “About his body first a layer of India rubber, thereupon a large pitch plaster; on top of this a band age of six yards of flannel. On the pit of his stomach a copper plate, on the chest a large box of warm sand. Around the neck a double bandage filled with juniper berries and grains of pepper; in the ears two pieces of cotton wool with cam phor; hung on the nose a smelling bottle containing vinegar, and in the mouth a twig of sweet calamus. “Over the bandage a shirt, soaked in chloride of lime, over that a cot ton wool jacket and a hot brick and, finally, a vest sprinkled with chlor ide of lime. Then a mantle made ol oilcloth and a hat of the same. In his right pocket he carries one pound of balm mint tea, a half- pound of carlyme thistle and a half- pound of sage. In his vest pocket he carries a bottle containing camo mile oil and in his trousers pocket a bottle of camphor. “On his hat he balances a tureen of thick gruel, in his right hand he carries a shrub of juniper, and in his left hand an acacia branch. Strapped to his body is a small wagon which he pulls after him and in which there are 15 yards of flan* nel, a boiling kettle, 10 scrubbing brushes, 18 bricks, two hides and a comfort stool. He must wear a mask made of curly-mint paste and keep a quarter of a pound of cala mus in his mouth.” Entire Panama Canal Plan Changed by Postage Stamp Showing Crater’s Smoke i Stamps have played many impor tant roles in the pageant of civi lization; one stamp nearly caused a war; another saved the life of an American explorer in the depths of the Liberian jungles; still a third waa responsible for the discharge of a postmaster general. Even the decision to build a canal through Panama instead of Nicaragua may be attributed to a single postage stamp, asserts a writer in the New York World-Telegram. For years the shipping industry was hampered by the long route from the Atlantic to the Pacific. Yankee clippers and British sloops raced around the “Horn” for the prestige in the tea trade from China. During the gold rush days in the West ships rushed to Central Amer ica and passengers and cargo were sent across the land by train or carriage and then on to San Fran cisco by another boat. The cutting of a canal through the isthmus seemed inevitable, even though trop ical diseases and fever crippled sev eral attempts to link ocean to ocean. The rusty machinery of De Les- ■eps lay discarded in the swamps of Panama. The British attempt was abandoned; and yet the world need ed a waterway across Central Amer ica. Eventually the United States ap propriated a fund to scrutinize the possibility of a canal. A commis sion made surveys and submitted reports on the feasibility of such a project. For months they worked in the field, examining the features several proposed sitea- After several months the plan of building across Nicaragua seemed to be the logical one, and prep arations were begun. The plans followed the lakes and rivers al ready in existence there, from At lantic to Pacific. Estimates were submitted for approval; plans had been drawn up, men were ready to go to Central America and begin work. The dramatic alteration in thi^ project came in Washington when one of the consulting engineers of the commission received a package of charts from his survey crew in Nicaragua. The contents of the package was only routine matter, but the postage stamp affixed to it struck his attention. The picture of Momotombo was familiar enough to this engineer and he recognized the mountain imme diately. His interest was aroused, however, when he saw that the en graver of that stamp showed smoke drifting from the crater of this peak, which had been considered an ex tinct volcano. A survey party was sent to ths interior to learn whether the en graver had made a mistake. Not long afterward word was received at headquarters that the volcano was not extinct but had again come to life; that smoke was rising from the crater. Search for Fountain of Yonth Hernando de Sota made its his toric search for the fountain of youth in this country in 1540. HCW-Tq SEW 4-* Ruth Wyeth Spears Design luncheon mat and napkin yourself. YX^ATCH any class of kinder- gartners cutting patterns from colored paper, and your fin gers will itch to pick up the scis sors and try it yourself. Why not? The luncheon mat and nap kin shown here offer a suggestion for a way to use your cut-out de signs for simple but effective applique work. The long sides of the mats are hemmed and the ends faced with one-inch bands of green, as at A The napkins are also hemmed on two sides and faced with green bands on the other two. The stem for the bright red cherry follows a circular line embroidered in green outline stitch. The leaf is of the green material. Experiment with cutting the cherry and leaf in paper. When you have cut a design that pleases you, make a pattern in lightweight cardboard. Cut the fabric a little larger than the pattern, clip the edge as at B; then press it over the pattern with a warm iron as at C to make a firm crease. Re move the pattern, and sew the AROUND THE HOUSE Tipless Shoestrings.—If metal tips come off of shoe strings dip them in mucilage. This will stif fen the ends and make it easy to put them through eyelets. • • • For Mosquito Bites.—A little household ammonia added to the whter with which mosquito bites are washed will remove the sting. Oil Up!—Don’t forget to oil your vacuum cleaner and electric washer. Oiling keeps them in good condition, and they wear longer. • • « When Making Blueberry Pie.— Mix one teaspoon of ground nut meg with two tablespoons of flour and sprinkle the mixture on the berries, then add sugar. • * * A Household Necessity.—A knife sharpener is as essential a piece of household equipment as the cof fee pot. Not even an expert carver is able to do much with a dull knife. • • * Cut Flowers With Razor Blade. —Take a safety razor blade with you when you go into the garden to cut flowers. It is more satis factory than scissors for cutting delicate flower stems. pieces in place with fine hemming stitches. NOTE: Readers who have not secured their copies of my two books should send in their orders at once. Your choice of the CRAZYPATCH QUILT leaflet showing 36 authentic stitches; or the RAG RUG LEAFLET will be included FREE with orders for both books, for the present. Ev eryone should have copies of these two books containing 96 How to Sew articles that have not ap peared in the paper. This offer will be withdrawn soon. Send or der with 25 cents immediately to Mrs. Spears, 210 S. Desplaines St., Chicago, 111., and both books will be mailed postpaid. ruined eyes by neglect; they Ret red and sore and you let them go. Don’t do It. Leonardl’s Golden Eya Lotion relieves soreness In on* day. Cools, heals and atrengtlMaa* LEONARDI’S GOLDEN EYE LOTION MAKES WEAK EYES STRONG New Large Size with Dropper SO cents S. B. Leonard ■&Co. lac.. New RoclMlla,N.T Righteousness Must Live If righteousness should perish it would not be worth while for men to live on the earth.—Emmanuel Kant. Use Penetro to sooths itching, stinging mis ery or mosquito, non- poisonous Insect bites. PENETRO Man-Made Misery A man is as miserable as he thinks he is.—Seneca. be miserable with MALARIA and COLDS w*- will check MALARIA fast and gives symptomatic cold reliaL LIQUID. TABLETS. SALVE, NOSE DROPS 666 Self-Favor I easily regain favor with my self.—Phaedrus. A GREAT BARGAIN VESPER TEA PURE ORANGE PEKOE 50 Cups for lO Cents Ask Your Grocer i , ^