The Lexington Leader (Lexington, Okla.), Vol. 32, No. 33, Ed. 1 Monday, December 25, 1922 Page: 2 of 8
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THE LEXINGTON LEADER
By OPIE READ
Copyrlfht, The Bell Syndtoate, I no.
She led hlin to her "sofa" and they
Bat down, leaning buck against the
"Tell you what, Nadlne?"
"Ahout the great big world yon
know so well."
"I don't know the big world, ns you
think It. But I know the universe as
I feel It. It Is here."
About her finger she sat wrapping
the lily-stem that had marked hor
favorite play. Was It that she did not
■understand Ills reference to his unl-
erse? No, for she shook her held,
and with a sigh that did not mean
"The universe could not be on this
"It could be held In your dimpled
"Oh, my hand dimpled!" She held It
In front of him, touched his brow
with the palm.
"It Is not soft enough to be dimpled,
"I would kiss It soft."
He caught her wrist, touched the
tip of each finger with his lips and
then kissed the pnlm. She laughed,
drawing bnck her hand.
"You must not do that. We must
talk of other things."
"Yes, but first let me tell you of
"I do not like to hear dreams. We
always forget them and make up some-
thing we did not dream. . . . But
did you not tell me once?"
"No, I don't think so. In my dream
you touched my heart with a torch
and set it nflre."
"But I would not do that. I would
pave you from the fire. Ah, and Tony
he has gone to the city, but when he
comes back, we must watch close.
. . . One time he tried to take my
hand, and he said he would kiss me.
And I say: 'That may be, Tony. You
can kiss me because you stronger. But
whep you have, then you be dead.'
And lie knew that I speak what was
"We care nothing for him. Let him
keep out of my way. . . . And
■when I saw you at the ball, I knew
that you were the gtrl with the torch.
lAnd do you know what I said to my-
self? Let me whisper It to you."
"There Is no one to hear."
"I said: 'You are to be my wife.'
And Just then you turned about and
looked at me."
"But I did not see you."
"Come, now, you must have seen
"Well, perhaps. But I did not ^v:,
T am to be his wife.' No, I did not
ea.v that. And It cannot be, Virgil."
"But It Is going to be, all the same,
and you know It. Why, what Is all
this universe for If that Is not to be?
■Why was this little Island cast up
here? Why did the'word ring forth:
•Let there be light'? It Is part of the
plan of creation, and nothing can pre-
vent It. ... I shall have to wait, but
"Will wait a long time, Virgil. But
we must not talk like that. Come—
let us forget such things."
She put her spell on him, and he was
n boy again. Hand In hand they
vnlked ahout, pretending that the acre
Island was miles and miles In extent.
Time was a day-star shodtlng unseen
across the sky, and then a heavy sen-
tence fell upon him. It was time for
him to go. In the cane she stood with
him where his canoe was rtloored. He
held her hand, drawing her toward
llm, but she took It away.
"No—no, you must not . . . Quick
Virgil, you must go now. The sun Is
In the night, In that hour of self-
reproach which conies to us all. Virgil
awoke In a rage with himself. He had
been dreaming, had seen himself Infirm
of purpose, without character. Back
to Highland Bruce he traced his an-
cestry. and was he to be the first of
his race to prove degenerate, to tram-
ple upon the memory of his father, to
loll In stupid love, to give his soul to
n creature far beneath him In birth
and schooling, a girl whose father hud
murdered! Out of bed he got, and
bowed with the weight of shame,
walked the uneven floor, for his slow
steps were doddering.
"Caught In un Instant, n fly In u
speck of jelly, and have never beeti
able to get free," he reproached him-
self. "Even Liberty Shottle, the slave
of cards and dice, can sew my weak-
ness and must laugh at me. But by
the God In Heaven It shall not be. In
this land there Is no law. I bring my
own law with me, my oath, and a smile
and a word of (tattering love bade me
put It aside, and I let It slip from me.
Now I must redeem myself."
He stood at the window. Gamecocks
were crowing the dawn, a courageous
challenge to all the world. No, there
would be no weakening now. The
sweetish comedy had been p'.ayed.
Swiftly he dressed himself, stole
downstairs, out of the house, down to
the river. There was no boat, but no
matter, he would walk to Willow Head,
legalizing that Jt was yet too early for
the execution of his grim purpose, he
halted at a wayside place, nte break-
fast and waited for the sun. Then not
In flurried haste, but deliberate In
strength, he walked on to Willow
Head, crossed over, found his neglected
rope where, In a hollow stump In
backsliding weakness he had hidden It,
buttoned It beneath his coat and strode
down Into the swamp.
It was a long way to his canoe near
the Muscadine Isle, and then a long
pull to Periwinkle house, but there
wus time enough. Stepho would not
go away till Thursday. Ah, he would
go nway no more, for now on Tuesday
he must settle with the spirit of Alfred
Mists hovered about, but the Island
wus In u blaze of light. Silently the
cunoe slit the sntln water. Silently
he landed. Determined vengeance may
pick Its way as softly as enger love;
and In the cane, sharper of whisper
now that the weather was cool, tie
inude not n sound. Out Into the open
he peered. No one within sight. Oh
the bark of the live oak were the dead
flowers of yesterday. There In the
shade was the box that had served as
table, once so prettily strewn with
In spite of his vow of vengeance and
his hatred of Stepho, these things
caught at Drace's heart, shook Ills
fixed purpose of action. For many
minutes he waited—no sign of Stepho,
of anyone. And then his blood leaped;
for soft hands suddenly blinded him
from behind, soft laughter bubbled
over at his astonishment. And dark
thoughts and dark purposes tied on
the wind as he caught Nadlne and
hugged her close.
"Now for your punishment I" And
he kissed her.
"Oh, you must not again .
Virgil, I cannot like you when you are
rude. . . . You must not!"
"I don't want you Just to like me."
"You do not? Then I will try not to.
Come and sit down, Virgil.
Yon worked so hurd for your kisses
you must he tired. . . . How did
"Guess what?" he asked as she led
him to the sofa and he sat gazing en-
tranced as she captured and Impris-
oned her guerrilla bands of hair.
"That Father and Tony had gone
hunting today. But they may be back
at any time, Virgil. You must not
"But I must stay; you hold me pris-
oner. I must stny until you love me
as madly as I do you."
"As madly as you do me? That
might not be so much mad, Virgil.
But why should I love you?"
"Because you are to be my wife. We
"Are we? I did not know that
Why you not tell me sooner?"
"I did, and now you must know It."
"But I did not. Then I must be
"The whole universe Is stupid If It
denies It. The angels are stupid If
th#y fall to see It" ,
'Oh, you must not talk like that It
Is worse than swearing the hlg oath.
. . . And I am to be your wife, Mrs.
Virgil? Then what do we do? Go
about and sing with the fiddle?"
"No, we go to the heautlful places
on earth and look upon them—togeth-
"No, no, you must not think like
that. You tnke my father by the wrist
and he hate you. . . . And I do so
wrong to see you. I am the sinner, but
I believe that the Blessed One, she
ask for my forgiveness. . . . No,
Virgil, we can only play together and
then ... It will live In the mind,
our childhood here. . . . My fa-
ther Is not well all the time now, and
I must he good to him. . . . Only
I must see you, sometimes. That Is
the only wrong I do him.
"For I—I love you. ... I did not
want to tell you, but I cannot keep It
all the time down In my heart. . . .
I dreum of you all of the night, and I
kneel down and pray that you always
love me. . . . There, I have told
you so much. And I kiss you, too.
. . . Now—you may stay for a little
time, and then you must go."
Boy and girl they played, not from
the book but from love's ever-varying
text. In his canoe they paddled nfar
off where the lily-pads paved the sur-
face of the pond. They Innded on a
knoll where was spread over persim-
mon saplings an arbor of muscadine;
here an adventurous catbird had her
nest of young. She cried and flut-
tered about In great alarm, but when
she saw that they were not her en-
emies, that they caught grasshoppers
to feed her brood, she sat high among
the vines, calling her mate, the musi-
cian, and here he came, scared at first,
but when she had explained to him he
sang his medley, ending with the cat-
call whence conies his unpoetlc name.
The sun had been speeding, and went
behind a cloud. Fear seized Nadlne,
and taking Virgil's hand, she urged
him toward the boat.
"My dear one, we must go now. The
sun was Jealous that we so happy and
will go Into the dark to pout. . . .
I will show you the near way for you
to come again, the way I came when
there was the fire. You caa leave
the canoe In the rushes and you will
need It only to cross over to the cane.
But we must hurry now."
In the rushes opposite the Island he
hid his canoe, and then she conducted
him along a narrow and sometimes
treacherous trail. Coming to the foot-
log. she halted.
"I must leave you here. But I stand
for two minutes. The sun he will wink
a few more times. ... I am so
glad now to know that I will be your
wife. And I am strong and can work."
"Lord bless you, but you won't have
Ills arms were about her, her cheek
against his, and with happiness the
world wus glowing.
"Till Thursday 1" he cried as h«
dipped his puddle.
"Till Thursday I" she echoed as sha
watched him go.
"Till Thursday I" muttered the sinis-
ter voice of old Stepho, who had ap-
proached softly through the under
growth at the sound of voices, and had
overheard their parting. But when he
came to 1'erlw'lnkle house, he gave no
sign to Nadlne that he had overheard
—only talked of Monsieur Boyce and
the fine dresses he would buy for her
when she wus his wife.
It wus long past noon when Drace
reached the river.
The (Jenerul had gone over Into an-
other parish to attend a stock sale.
Tycle said; and when she had looked
irt Drace more closely, at his torn
clothes, his muddy shoes, she sighed
and sat down beside him where on the
rustic bench he hud dropped to rest
before going to his room.
"Virgil," she snld, "there Is some-
thing troubling you. Now, you needn't
tell me that It Is business. I know
what business Is. I know all of Its
tricks; but I also know love and all
of its tricks. Virgil, you are In love.
Let me hope that It Is not that Nina
Spence. She Isn't worthy of you; and
besides, she doesn't belong to us. She
Is not of our world. Virgil, I am so
She put her hand on his arm, and he
took It and affectionately kissed It.
"Aunt Tycle, I never saw the girl
you speak of. I am In the—the throes,
you might say, and have been—was
before I got here, but not with her."
"But Is It with anyone I know?"
"You have seen her, I have heard."
"Oh, you must tell me. It shall be
sacred with me. If yon only knew how
people tell me their affairs of the heart.
Kven old Colonel Josh has told me.
Now, why won't you?"
"I shall tell you, but I must put you
on your honor. I said that you have
seen her. You have; you spoke of
"Oh, Virgil! But her father!"
"Yes, I know. But let me tell you
He told of his love, not of his fa-
ther's death—told her nothing of his
oath; she listened enraptured; and
when he had finished, Bhe mothered
him with her arms about his neck.
About ten o'clock next day, while
the family sat In the shade, up to the
gate drew a resplendent carriage,
drawn by two black horses and driv-
en by a negro In livery. Out stepped a
man as tall as Lincoln and wearing a
hat as high as his. His raiment flashed
like the varnish of his equipage. Drace
recognized him as he came through the
gate, taking off his gloves, and the
General cried out:
"Tycle, I wish I may die dead If It
Isn't Liberty Shottle!"
"Colonel Shottle, at your service,"
replied Llherty, bowing and gesturing
with his gloves In his hand. ^
"Wen,* Liberty!" cried Ms sunt, giv-
ing him a hug of welcome.
The General and Drace grasped him,
stroked his velvety raiment, urging
him to a seat.
"Why all this, Colonel Shottle?"—
from the General. "You don't mean to
tell me that you have sold your Jute-
"Uncle Howard, sir, first Issue orders
to have my carriage stored, my horses
stabled and my driver quartered,
The order was Issued, and they sat
waiting for Shottle to explain his
"A simple story," he began, stretch'
Ing out his legs. "But do not forestall
me. Poker, dice, roulette, faro, haz-
ard—all of them failed."
"And this comes of legitimate in-
vestment!" Tycle cried. "I knew It
would. Oh, I knew It just had to come.
Now tell us about It.
"It was an Investment, Aunt Tycle.
But let me not forestall myself. I left
here on a boat, got broke. Finally 1
reached Tampa, Florida."
"Away down there, Liberty?"—from
"Patience, my dear aunt. Tampa,
and broke! After a day of hope with
Its throat cut from ear to ear, I got
on a boat bound for Havana. The
Spanish captain gave me passage fot
service. He was studying English, nnd
I agreed to explain to him certain
niceties of our mother tongue, you un
derstand; and I am sure that, reaching
port, he knew more about gambling
terms than he could have picked up In
a year of close study In one of our or-
dinary schools. He was appreciative,
generous, and gave me a bonus of five
dollars. I went to a hotel, not of the
first class, and It wns there that 1
made my Investment. The weathei
was warm and—"
"For gracious sake, Liberty, tell us!"
his aunt urged him.
"That Is my aim, but let us not be
Impetuous. ... I was eating a
Spanish stew out on the sidewalk, the
weather being warm, when along came
an agent—not a man In distress, but a
regular agent—and I Invested with
him. I bought a ticket fn the Havana
lottery. . . . Walt, now. Nothing
ever happens until It does, you know
The drawing came off two days later,
and my number, 856,792, won the flrsl
prize, twenty thousand In gold."
(TO nn CONTINUED.)
Hlte Family Christmas Tree |
"Oliver Twist was always asking
for more," remarked Senator Sor-
"Vet he became a worthy citizen,"
observed the admirer of Dickens.
"Yes. Probably he grew up eveo
tunlly to be a tax collector."
Masterpiece Born in Sufferlnfl.
Tom Hood's famous "Song of the
Shirt" was composed In 1844, while he
lay In bed suffering from his lait sick-
ALL wrapped In tissue paper and tied
with ribbons bright.
Hidden In my bureau drawer—the
one that's locked up tight—
Are Christmas gifts for all my folks,
how surprised they'll be!
'Course they're only little things, I'm not
quite eight, you see.
A handkerchief for Grandpa. I hemmed
It ev'ry bit;
A bag for Grandma's worsted, you know
she likes to knit;
Some armlets for my father, pink 'lastlc,
with a bow;
A crocheted mat for Mother with scal-
oped edge, you know;
Scrapbook filled with birds and beasts
for little Brother Don;
Reins for Baby Eleanor with Jlngly bells
They're wrapped In tissue paper and tied
with ribbons bright,
Hidden in my bureau drawer—the one
that's locked up tight.
—Elsa Gorham Baker in Successful
BY CHRISTOPHER G. HAZARD
l,l!.VE3TUN NBVSMFfK UNION"
OiNCE there was a boy named
I Peter Mephlbosheth Onon-
—' daga Cologos Cudwalader.
It was such a long name
that he would get out of
sight before his mother
could finish calling him, so
she shortened It Into "Pete."
"Oh, Pete," or "You, Pete."
At the right time of year Pete want-
ed a Christinas tree, so he went to the
woods to get It. Selecting a mountain
ash tree, lie was about to cut it down,
when a flock of starlings disputed with
him, claiming It as their Christmas tree
and all Its bright berries as their own.
Then he considered a nut tree, but the
squirrels were furious and wanted to
know where their Christmas would be
If he took It. So the boy concluded
that no one else would want the ever-
green tree, with nothing on It but
cones, and took that.
Reflecting, however, that his tree did
not seem likely to have anything on
it worth while, Peter remembered
what an old wood-
man had once
told him about a
wild tree that had
derfully to culti-
vation. and re-
solved to see
whut could be
done In his own
case. His mother
smiled when he
made his plan
known, but of-
fered no objec-
tion as her son
set the tree up in
a box, supplied it
with earth and enrichment nnu wa-
tered It from day to day. His frequent
inspections did not much reward his
hope; Indeed, the tree seemed to be
withering, and yet, on Christmas
morning, there it wns, all adorned and
well supplied with gifts as beautiful
as a barberry bush.
It was strange, however, that withal
there did not seem to be much happi-
ness among the branches. Indeed, be-
fore long, Peter seemed as dissatisfied
*nd fretful us thougu his tree had
'lorne l\Jni nothing more than Its wild
lines. His mother felt a good deal
isapponted, for she had hoped that
so wonderful a surprise would be as
happy a thing for him as It had been
for her; but she could think of nothing
better, so that the Christmas celebra-
tion began to seem like a failure. Mr.
Gadwalader, however, had a sugges-
tion to make. He said that he thought
that the tree had not been cultivated
enough, and that If Peter would Invite
some of his young friends In he
thought they might get a good deal of
pleasure out of things eveii yet.
When the little company had assem-
bled and Mr. Cadwalader had dis-
tributed somfe packages that he had
placed on the tree there was a merry
time over the games that he knew
how to play, and a wondering when
he disappeared Into the hallway, prom-
ising to come back all dressed up In a
minute and take the three gifts off
that were left on the tre and see
what they were and who they were
They hardly knew the Jolly man
who came back, after a little, all In
red, with white whiskers and paper
snowflakes In his hair and on his coat,
as though he had come In out of a
snow storm. Little Dorothy Avery, the
smallest of them all, Jumped up and
leaned on her crutch as she exclaimed:
"I know him, he's a friend of mine,"
mistaking him for Santa Claus, but
the older ones did not correct her mis-
Whoever he was, he made them a
little speech and wished them a merry
day and began to take off the three
In his speech he
said that he felt
sure that there
must be a good
deal of happiness
on that tree, be-
cause God had
made It, hope had
planted It In the
box, faith had wa-
tered It, affection
had filled It with
fruit, but, as they
had not yet had
the best things
could produce, he
was now going to let them have them.
The first of the three gifts was a
small box, all done up In tissue paper.
When Dorothy had taken off the paper
and undone the box there was another
little box, and when she opened this
box there was another little box In
that, then there was another little
box, then there was another little box,
then there was another little box, then
there was another little box; and so
It went on until, In the last box, she
found a gold dollar. The second gift
was a bayberry candle, with these
words on a piece of paper:
Set mo In the window some dark night,
Many will not see me. someone might.
Madeline got this second present
and seemed very glad of It. Then the
third gift was taken down and pre-
sented to Peter. It was only a note,
ull done up In an envelope, but it
helped him to see why the party had
made him happier than he hud been
when he was all alone with his tree,
for he could not only read the note,
but also the sweet meaning when it
All trees are Christmas trees that bear
The care of love and love of car*.
To cultivate a Christmas tree
Plant It In love and let It be.
Gold for misfortune tt will keep,
Light in the darkness' it will give.
Its truth will blossom while you sleep,
Its happy kindness while you live.
So Peter found, out all that the old
woodsman had meant when he told
him about cultivating trtea.
Raisin Quick Candy.
One and one-half cupfuls sugar, %
cupful chopped raisins, cupful
Heat the sugar In frying pan over
a low fire, stirring constantly until It
becomes a golden brown sirup. Re-
move from fire and quickly stir In
raisins and nuts. Pou on Inverted
ungreased pans. As It Is beginning
to harden mark into squares.
PACK GIFTS WITH CARE
CHRI8TMAS PRE8ENT8 SHOULD
BE WRAPPED WELL.
Parcel* to Qo by Mall and Express
Need the Careful Attention of
T IS all very well Just to wrap
an ordinary package la papet
and tie It securely with
string, but with a Christmas
gift it's different. Somehow
the Christmas sentiment
oozes out even to the out-
side of the package, and we
must take Just as much care
In "doing up" our parcels as In making
or buying them In the first place.
Let us be practical, however, first
of all. Let us wrap the parcels, espe-
cially the ones which have to go by
mall or express, very securely Indeed,
registering them If they are valuable.
Tissue paper first, and then good,
strong wrapping paper, tifd with stout
cord or heavy elastic, Is the best
method. Reserve ribbons and fancy
cards for the Inside of the package,
and remember that putting a seal over
the fastening of a parcel prevents Its
being sent third class. For perishable
objects use cardboard boxes.
As for the packages which are to be
delivered In person, however, or the
Inside of those to be sent by mall or
express, you may exhaust your In-
genuity to make them pretty. With a
box, of course, It is always easy to
use holly tissue paper and green and
red ribbon and a sprig of holly or
mistletoe; but a wrapped parcel al-
ways looks more clumsy.
Wrap the gift first In white tissue
paper; then roll It In white brlstol-
board; and then cover it with green
or red crepe paper. Tie around It a
bow of ribbon in the contrasting
shade, stick through this a sprig of
holly land a card of good wishes,
fasten at the ends with Christmas
seals, and there you are I
These seals, by the way, although
they may be purchased very cheaply,
still have a further touch of individual-
ity when made at home. Do them
on glazed paper and coat them, before
cutting out, with mucilage that can ba
allowed to dry and then wet again
when necessary. Three suggestions
for designs are the bell and star, the
Christmas tree with presentB and
Santa Claus with his pack. Many
more to be drawn, touched up with
watercolor and cut out, will suggest
themselves to the reader.
The very ribbon with which
your gifts are tied can be stenciled
with a design more original than the
inevitable holly of the shops. The red
border and the mistletoe wreaths and
stars make one pretty pattern. The
process Is the simple one of ordinary
With your gift send some pretty
card expressing your affection for the
recipient. A good idea, especially
with a book or some othar gift of the
sort, is to send instead of a card a
little blotter calendar. It consists of two
or more blotters tied together with
a bow of holly ribbon, a calendar pad
for 1922, and a picture (a post card
will do, but the subject must be suited
to your friend's tastes) fastened to It
on the other side. The fastening may
be done by clips or by sealing wax.
A slip of paper with a Christmas
greeting should also be added. The
blotters may be red and green or
they may give the colors of some club
or college In which the donor or re-
cipient is Interested.
Finally do not forget to weigh all
packages you mail. Nothing is mora
annoying than to have to pay for a
package sent out by some careless
friend. And keep a card catalogue
of your Christmas presents. Then you
will avoid the two pitfalls of forget-
ting some one or duplicating a gift—
both horrible to contemplate.-
Above all, wrap your presents with
a kindly thought—or do not give any
Removing Water Spot.
Some silks and wools are spotted by
water. A satisfactory method for re-
moving such spots is to dampen the
entire material evenly and press it
while still damp. Either sponge the
material carefully with clean water
or shake It In the steam from a briskly
boiling tea kettle until it is thoroughly
dump, then press It.
Here’s what’s next.
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Denison, Mrs. E. A. The Lexington Leader (Lexington, Okla.), Vol. 32, No. 33, Ed. 1 Monday, December 25, 1922, newspaper, December 25, 1922; Lexington, Oklahoma. (gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc110992/m1/2/: accessed February 15, 2019), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.