The State Journal (Mulhall, Okla.), Vol. 11, No. 30, Ed. 1 Friday, June 27, 1913 Page: 4 of 6
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ILLUSTRATIONS BY
O • IKWIN • MYERS
W
1 ^ (COPYRIGHT 1912
PO BBS - h E P PILL CO.)
SYNOPSIS.
Fran arrives at Hamilton Gregory 8
home In I.lttlcburg, but finds "lni u >s< nt
conducting the choir at a camp meeting.
She renalra thither In search of htm.
laughs during the service anil la asked to
leave Abbott Ash ton. superintendent or
schools, escorts J'ran from the tent, lie
tolls her Gregory la a wealthy '"an'
deeply Interested in charity work, and a
pillar of the church Ashton become*
greatly Interested In Fran and while tun-
ing leave of her. holds her hand and is
seen by Sapphira Clinton, sister of Kon-
ert Clinton, chairman of the school board
Fran tells Gregory she wants a homo
with him. Grace Nolr. Gregory s private
secretary, takes a violent dislike to r ran
and advises her to go away at once.
Fran hints at a twenty-year-old set rel.
and Gregory In agitation asks Grace to
ieave the room. Fran relates the story
of how' Gregorv married a young girl al
Springfield while attending college ana
then deserted ln r. Fran Is the child or
that marriage Gregory had married tils
present wife three years before the deatn
of Fran's mother Fran takes a liking to
Mrs Gregory Gregory explains that
Fran Is the .laughter of a ver> dear friend
who Is dead Fran agrees to the story.
Mrs Gergory Insists on her making her
home with them and takes her to her
arms. The breach between I ran and
Grace widens. It la decided that I* ran
must go to school. Grace shows Pers'®"
tent Interest In Gregory's story of his
dead friend and hints that Fran may he
an imposter. She threatens to marry Hob
Clinton and leave Gregory's service, much
'to the latter's dismay. Fran declares that
the secretary must go. Grace begins nag-
ging tactic? in an effort to drive I- ran
from the Gregory home, but Mrs. Greg-
ory remains stanch In her friendship.
CHAPTER X.—Continued.
Miss Sapphira was highly gratified.
"I wish you'd talked this reasonable
at first. It's always what people don't
see that the most harm comes of. I'll
give a little tea out here on the ve-
randa, and the worst talkers in town
will bo In these chairs when you bring
Fran away from Abbott's office. And
I'll explain it all to 'em, and they'll
know Abbott Is all right, just as I've
always known."
"Get Miss Grace to come," Dob said
tsheeplshly. "She doesn't like Fran,
and she'il be glad to know Abbott Is
doing his dirty by her. Later, I'll drop
tin and have a bite with you."
This, then, was Bob's "idea," that
no stone might be left unturned to
hide the perfect innocence of the su-
perintendent. He had known Abbott
Ashton as a bare-legged urchiu run-
ning on errands for his widowed rnoth-
«r. He h d watched him through stu-
dious years, had believed in bis fu-
ture career—and no, no bold adventur-
ess, though adopted into Hamilton
Gregory's home, should be allowed to
apoll Abbott's chances of success.
In his official character as chairman
of the board, Robert Clinton marched
with dignity Into the superintendent's
office, meaning to bear away the wilt-
ed Fran before the eyes of woman.
Abbott Ashton saw him enter with a
sense of relief. The young man could
not understand why he had held
Fran's hand, that right on the foot-
bridge. Not only had the sentiment
of that hour passed away, but the in-
terview Fran had forced upon him at
the close of a recent school-day, had
inspired him with actual hostility It
seemed the Irony of fate that a mere
child, a stranger, should, because of
senseless gossip, endanger his chances
of reappointment—a reappointment
which he felt certain was the best
possible means of advancement Why
had he held Fran's little hand? He
had never dreamed of holding Grace'B
—ah, there was a hand, Indeed!
"Has she been sent down?" Bob
Get—What?" He Returned With
a Puzzled Frown.
asked, in the hoarse undertone of
fellow-conspirator.
"No." Abbott was eager to prove
his Innocence. "I haven't seen a sign
of her, but I'm looking every minute—
glad you're here."
Confidences were impracticable, be-
cause of a tousled-headed, lnk-stalned
pupil who gloomed in a corner.
"Why, hello, there, Jakey!" cried
Clinton, dlpcoueerti d; he had hoped
thai. Fran's subjugation might take
place without witnesses. "What are
you doing here, hey?"
"Waitln' to be whipped," was the de-
fiant rejoinder"
"Tell the professor you're sorry for
what you've done, so you can run
along." said the chairman of the board
persuasively.
"Naw, 1 ain't sorry," returned Jakey,
hands in pockets. Then bethinking
himself—"But I ain't done nothin'."
Abbott said regretfully, "He'll have
to be whipped."
Clinton nodded, and sat down sol-
emnly, breathing hard. Abbott was
restlessly pacing the floor, and Bob
was staring at him unwlnkingly, when
the door opened and In came Fran.
Fran walked up to Abbott hesitat-
ingly, and spoke with the Indistinct-
ness of awed humility. "You are to
punish me," Bhe explained, "by mak-
ing mo work out this original propo-
sition"-—showing the book—"and you
are to keep me here till I get It."
Abbott asked sternly, "Did Miss
Bull send me this message?"
"She Is named that," Fran mur-
mured, her eyes fastened on the open
page.
From the yard came the shouts of
children, breaking the bonds of learn-
ing for a wider freedom. Abbott, gaz-
ing severely on this slip of a girl,
found her decidedly commonplace in
appearance. How the moonlight must
have bewitched him! He rejoiced that
Robert Clinton was there to witness
his Indifference.
"This is the problem," Fran said,
with exceeding primness, pronouncing
the word as if it were too large for
her, and holding up the book with a
slender finger placed upon certain
Italicized words.
"Let me see it," said Abbott, with
professional dryness. He grasped the
book to read the proposition. His
hand was against hers, but she did not
draw away, for had she done so, how
could he have found the place?
Fran, with uplifted eyes, spoke in
the plaintive accents of a five-year-old
child: "Right there, sir . . . It's
awful hard."
Robert Clinton cleared his throat
and produced a sound bursting with
accumulated h's and r's—his warning
passed unheeded.
Never before- had Abbott had
much of Fran. The capillaries of his
skin, as her hand quivered warmly
against his, seemed drawing her in;
and as she escaped from her splendid
black orbs, she entered his brain by
the avenue of his own thirsty eyes.
What was the use to tell himself that
she was commonplace, that his posi-
tion was In danger because of her?
Suddenly her hair fell Blantwlse past
the corners of her eyes, making
triangle of smooth white* «kin to the
roots of the hair, and it seemed good,
just because it was Fran's way and
not after a machine-turned fashion;
Fran was done by hand, there was no
doubt of that.
"Sit there," Abbott said, gravely
pointing. She obeyed without a word,
leaving the geometry as hostage in the
teacher's hand. When seated at a dis-
creet distance, she looked over at Bob
Clinton. He hastily drew on his spec-
tacles, that he might look old.
Abbott volunteered, "This Is Mr.
Clinton, President of the Board."
"I know," said Fran, staring at her
pencil and paper, "he's at the head
of the Bhow, and watches when the
wild animals are tamed."
Clinton drew forth a newspaper, and
opened It deliberately.
Fran scribbled for some time, then
looked over at him again. "Did you
get it?" Bhe asked, with mild Interest.
"Did I get—what?" he returned, with
puzzled frown.
"Oh, 1 don't know what it Is," said
Fran with humility; "the name of it's
'Religion'."
"If I were you," Clinton returned,
flushing, "I'd be ashamed to refer to
the night you disgraced yourself by
laughing In the tent."
"Fran," Abbott interposed severely,
"attend to your work."
Fran bent her head over the desk,
but was not long silent. "I don't like
a-b-c and d-e-f," she observed with
more energy than she had hitherto dis-
played. "They're equal to each other,
but I don't know why, and I don't care,
because It doesn't seem to matter.
Nothing interests me unless it has
something to do with living. These
angles and lines are nothing to me;
what I care for is this time I'm wast-
ing, sitting in a stuffy old room, vhlle
the good big world Is enjoying itself
Just outside the window." She started
up impetuously.
"Sit down!" Abbott commanded.
"Fran!" exclaimed Robert Clinton,
stamping his foot, "sit down!"
Fran sank back upon the bench.
"I suspect," Baid Abbott mildly,
"that they have put you In classes too
far advanced. We must try you lu
another room—"
"But I don't want to be tried In
rooms," Fran explained, "I want to be
tried In acts—deeds. Until I came
here, I'd never been to school a day
in my life," she went on In a confiden-
tial tone. "I agreed to attend becauso
I Imagined school ought to have some
C:-
connection with life—something In It | ing's a good thing, and, oh, how
mixed up with love and friendship and
Justice and mercy. Wasn't 1 silly! I
even believed—Just fancy!—that you
might really teach me something about
religion. But, no! It's all books, noth-
ing but books."
"Fran," Abbott reasoned, "if we put
you In a room where you can under-
stand the things we try to teach, If
we make you thorough—"
"1 don't want to be thorough," she
explained, "I want to be happy. I
guess all that schools were meant to
do Is to teach folks what's In books,
and how to stand In a straight line.
The children In Class A, or Class B
have their minds Bheared and pruned
to look alike; but I don't want my
brain after anybody's pattern."
"You'll regret this. Miss," declared
Clinton, In a threatening tone. "You
sit down. Do you want the name of
being expelled
"I don't care very much about the
names of things," said Fran coolly;
"there are lots of respectable names
that hlda wickedness." Her tone
changed: "But yonder's another wild
animal for you to train; did you come
to see him beaten?" She darted to the
Don't You See That You Are Holding
Up Ignorance as a Virtue?"
needed. . . . Except at school—you
mustn't do anything human here, you
must be an oyster at school."
"Aw-right," said Jakey, with a glim-
mering of comprehension. He seemed
coming to life, as If sap were trickling
from winter-congealment.
Bob Clinton, too, felt the fresh
breeze or early spring in his face. lie
removed Ills spectacles.
"The first thing I knew," Fran said,
resuming her private conversation
with Jakey, "I had a mother, but no fa-
ther—not (hat he was dead, oh, bless
you, he was alive enough—but before
my birth he deserted mother. Uncle
turned us out of the house. Did we
starve, that deserted mpther and her
little baby? I don't look starved, do 1?
Pshaw! If a woman without a cent to
her name, and ten pounds In her arms
can make good, what about a big
strong boy like you with a mother to
smile every time he hits the mark?
Tell these gentlemen you're sorry for
punching that boy."
"Sorr'," muttered Jakey shame-
facedly.
"I am glad to hear It," Abbott ex-
claimed heartily. "You can take your
cap to go. Jakey."
"Lemme stay," Jakey pleaded, not
budging an inch.
Fran lifted her face above the
tousled head to look at Abbott; she
sucked in her cheeks and made a
triumphant oval of her mouth. Then
she seemed to forget the young nan's
presence.
"But when mother died, real trouble
began. It was always hard work, while
she lived, but hard work Isn't trouble,
la, no, trouble's just an empty heart!
Well, sir, when I read about how good
Mr. Hamilton Gregory Is, and how
much he gives away—to folks he nev-
er sees—here I came. 'But I don't
seem to belong to anybody, Jakev, I'm
outside of everything. But you have
a home and a mother, Jakey, and i
place In the world, so I say 'Hurrah!
bcaause you belong to somebody, and,
best of all. you're not a girl, but a boy
to strike out straight from the shoul-
der."
Jakey was dissolved; tears burst
their confines.
One may shout oneself hoarse at the
delivery of a speech which, if served
in hair, or flesh, or glory of eye, or
softness of lips, altogether lacking in
his physical being, but eagerly desired
"Professor Ashton," she spoke seri-
ously, "I have been horrid. I might
have known that school is merely a
place where young people crawl Into
books to worm themselves from lid to
lid, swallowing all that comes in the
way. But I'd never been to school, and
I Imagined it a place where a child
was helped to develop itself. I thought
teachers were trying to show the pu-
pils the best way to be what they were
going to be. I've been disappointed,
but that's not your fault; you are just
a system. If a boy is to be a black-
smith after he's grown, and if a girl
In the same class is to be a music
teacher, or a milliner, both must learn
rbout a-b-c and d-e-f. So I'm going
away for good, because, of course, I
couldn't afford to waste my time in
this house."
"But, Fran," Abbott exclaimed Im-
pulsively, "don't you Bee that you are
holding up Ignorance as a virtue? Can
you afford to despise knowledge In this
civilized age? You should want to
know facts just because—well, Just be-
cause they are facts."
"But I don't seem to, at all," Fran
responded mildly. "No, I'm not ma-
king fun of education when I find fault
with your school, any more than I
show Irreverence to my mother's God
ROGERS CHOSEN AS HOLDER
Football Warrior Chosen to Lead
Chippewa Nation in Fight for
$15,000,000.
St. Paul, Minn —More than a cen-
tury has elapsed since the Chippewa
tribe has been recognized as a nation.
More than seventy-five years had
elapsed on May 6, 1913, since all the
Chippewa tribe of Minnesota met in
one general council. Indians who
were present during the general coun-
cil which began In Cass Lake on May
6, 1913, all seemed pleased to think
that after many years they had finally
arrived at a point where the entire
Minnestota tribe would have one or-
ganization through which it would
find what it wanted and, having found
out, speak as one man.
It was eaBy for them to' see that a
man of their own who had matched
his wits politically against the whit®
man's best and received from the
Mr. Rogers as a Football Star.
white men the verdict that they rec-
ognized him as of at least their equal
in legal ability was their natural
when I question what some people call | choice for leader.
'religion.' It's the connection to life ; Edward L. Rogers, at present coun-
that makes facts of any value to me; 1 ty attorney of Cass county, Minnesota,
and it's only in its connection to life | physicially a giant and the superior of
that I'd give a pin for all the religion I most white men, as has been demon
on earth."
"I don't understand," Abbott faltered
She unfolded her hands and held
them up in a quaint little gesture of
aspiration. "No, because it isn't in a
book. I feel lost—bo out In space. I
only ask for a place in the universe—
to belong to somebody . . ."
"But," said Abbott, "you already be-
long to somebody, since Mr. Gregory
has taken you into his home and he is
one of the best men that ever—"
"Oh, let's go home," cried Fran im-
patiently. "Let's all of us skip out of , , ,
this chalky old basement-smelly place, | of them will be worth approximately
and breathe the pure air of life." | $2,500.
strated by his feats in the Carlisle and
Minnesota university football teams,
was selected unanimously.
The council had as spectators many
men who have been more or less
prominent politically, for Cass Lake
has many of them. There was not a
man among them who did not concede
that Rogers in the chair did splendid
work in cementing the Chippewas In-
to one body. There are approximate-
ly 10,000 Chippew-as In Minnesota, and
if they get all that is coming to them
of right every man, woman and child
She darted toward the door, then
looked back. Sadness had vanished
from her face, to give place to a sud-
den glow. The late afternoon sun
shone full upon her, and she held her
lashes apart, quite unblinded by its
intensity. She seemed suddenly il-
upon printed page, would never prompt lumined, not only from without, but
the reader to cast his hat to the ceil-
ing. No mere print under bold bead-
lines did Abbott read, but rather the
changing lights and shadows in great
black eyes. It was marvelous how
from within.
Abbott seized his hat. Robert Clin-
ton had already snatched up his. Jakey
squeezed his cap in an agitated hand
All four hurried out into the hall as if
Fran could project past experiences ! moved by the same spring.
upon the screen of the listener's per-
ception. At her, "When mother died,"
Abbott saw the girl weeping beside
the death-bed. When she sighed, "I
don't belong to anybody," the school
director felt like crying: "Then be-
long to me!"
Fran now completed her work. She
rose from the immovable Jakey and
came over to Abbott Ashton, with
meekly folded hands.
He^found the magic of the moon-
light-hour returning. She had mel-
Unlucklly, as they passed the hall
window, Fran looked out. Her eyes
were caught by a group seated on the
veranda of the Clinton boarding house.
There were Miss Sapphira Clinton,
Miss Grace Nolr, and several mothers,
sipping afternoon tea. In an instant,
Fran had grasped the plot That cloud
of witnesses was banked against the
green weather-boarding, to behold her
ignominy.
"Mr. Clinton," said Fran, all sweet-
ness, all allurement. "I am going to
ask of you a first favor. I left my hat
(to fe continued.)
corner, and seated herself beslds
Jakey.
"Say, now," Bob remonstrated, pull-
ing his mustache deprecatlngly. "ev-
erybody knows I wouldn't see a dog
hurt If It could be helped. I'm Jakey's
friend, and I'd be yours. Fran—hon-
estly—if I could. But how's a school
to be run without authority? You
ain't reasonable. All we want of you
Is to be biddable."
"And you!" cried Fran to Abbott,
beginning to give way to high pres-
sure, "I thought you were a school-
teacher, not just, but also—a some-
thing very nice, also a teacher- But
not you. Teacher's all you are, just
rules and regulations and authority
and chalk and a-b-c and d-e-f."
Abbott crimsoned. Was she right?
Was he not something very nice plus lowed — glowed — softened woman-
his vocation? He found himself des- Ized—Abbott could not find the word up i0 Miss Bull's room and—"
perately wishing that she might think | for it. She quivered with an exquisite- "i will get it." said Abbott promptly.
0 . ness not to be defined—a something
Fran, after one long glowing look at ]
him, turned to the lad in disgrace, and
placed her hand upon his stubborn
arm. "Have you a mother?" she
asked wistfully.
"Yell," mumbled the lad, astonlEhed
at finding himself addressed, not as
an lnk-stalned husk of humanity, but j
as an understanding soul.
"I haven't," said Fran softly, talk- j
ing to. him as If unconscious of the j
presence of two listening men, "but I
had one, a few years ago—and. oh. It
seems so long since she died, Jakey—
three years Is a pretty long time to be
without a mother. And you can't think
what a fault-blindest, spoillngest, can-
dleBt mother she was. I'm glad yours
1b living, for you still have the chance
to make her proud and happy. . . .
No matter how fine 1 may turn out—
do you reckon I'll ever be admired by
anybody, Jakey? Huh! I guess not.
But If I were, mother wouldn't be here
to enjoy It. Won't you tell Professor
Ashton that you are sorry?"
"Fran—" Abbott began.
Fran made a mouth at him. "I don't
belong to your school any more," she
Informed him. "Mr. School Director
can tell you the name of what h<? can
do to mo; he'll fl(jd It'classified under
the E's."
After this explosion, she turned
again to the lad: "I saw you punch
that boy, Jakey, and I heard you say
you didn't, and yet It was a good
punch. What made you den/ It?
Punches aren't bad Ideas. If. I could
strike out like you did, I'd wait till I
saw a man bullying a weaker one, and
I'd stand up to him—" Fran leaped
Impulsively to her feet, and doubled
her arm
It Is no small task that has "been
set for Rogers. The total of claims
that he will have to start on their
way to adjudication is more than
$15,000,000.
YOUR MIND ON YOUR WORK
Man Who Makes Good Is One Who
Can Shut Out of Mind All but
One Thing.
The man who uaAl.es good Is the
man who can shut out of his mind all
but one thing. An unsuccessful prin-
cipal of a school once said that every
teacher ought to be able to do three
things at once. Of course, lie was
wrong. The teacher who does one
thing at a time and does it well is
giving the pupil the best possible ob-
ject lesson in concentration. We
have to learn to think clearly amid
distracting noises, to go forward on a
strait and narrow way without diver-
sions and excursions that waste our
time and our substance, and to keep
at work regardless of the "tired feel-
ing, the "spring1' feeling, and whether
the fishing Is good or not. When the
soft breeze conies In at the window
we stiffen the moral fiber against its
allurement. We must pin our atten-
tion firmly to the turgid and dry
geometry of a legal brief, or the ser-
ried figures of the daybook, or the
busy system of a mercantile establish-
ment, and let every other thought
'and I'd let her land! Punch-1 await Its turn at the end ot office
hours. You may have heard a great
lawyer In action In a crowded court-
room. What was the secret of his
power? It was that he would not let
the jury's attention or the witness'
tongue wander from the relevant
facts. He kept Insistently to the
straight line that is the shortest dis-
tance from point to point. He curt-
ly dismissed all that was super-
fluous, Immaterial and calculated to
blur the salient outlines of the mat-
ter In controversy.
MUTE GIRL RESUMES TALKING
Peculiar Case of Hysteria Brought on
by Overstudy at a Summer
School.
St. Louis.—Irene Burnes, daughter
of Mr. and Mrs. James C. Burnes of
Hillyard, who for the last seven and
a half months has been confined at
the Sacred Heart hospital on account
of a most serious and peculiar case of
hysteria, which baffled local physi-
cians for several months on account ot
her refusal to talk, 1b Improving.
In about a month she will be able
to leave the hospital, at which time
Bhe will be taken for a visit to Lewis-
ton, 111.
Miss Burnes was at her home for a
few hours recently, the first time since
October 2, when she was taken to the
hospital. Although she has not entire-
ly recovered her power of speech, she
will at times, especially in the morn-
ings when rested, talk for a little
while. She understands all said to
her, but under no condition can sh3
talk unless she be thoroughly rested.
Jfiss Bailey, her nurse, takes her for
a walk each day. Miss Burnes since
March has been under the care of Dr.
W. T. Phy.
The illness was brought on last
summer as the result of overstudy at
a summer school and following the
excitement of the final examination.
Anesthetized Rejection Slip.
Elizabeth Jordan said that with all
the manuscripts the late Margaret E
Sangster had occasion to return, not
one ever carried a heartache with It.
She saw everyone who wanted to see
her, recoiving all callers. She was
greatly interested in young writers.
And when they had no writing gift,
tactfully she would set them going on
In some other direction. Perhaps some
woman who had brought her poor lit-
tle efforts to Mrs. Sangster could bake
sweetmeats, though she couldn't
write. Then would Mrs. Sangster
work around among the club women
she knew until she got sufficient or
ders for sweetmeats to give that wo
| man employment.—Christian Herald
WOMAN RIDES ON F0RP0ISE
Miss Violet Nathan of Minneapolis
Has Startling Experience While
Bathing on Coast.
Venice, Cal.—A ride on the back of
a huge playful porpoise caused Miss
Violet Nathan of Minneapolis to have
hysterics while In bathing.
While a large number of bathers
were enjoying the surf near Maier
Pier avenue a school of porpoises sud-
denly appeared and began to frolic
with the bathers. All except Miss
Nathan fled to the beach. When she
observed the monsters she started to
flee, but a big porpoise, in a playful
mood, swam up and rubbed against
the young woman. She screamed and
Junjped.
The porpoise then swam directly
under Miss Nathan and she was car-
led several feet astride of the crea-
ture's back.
She called loudly for help, fainted
and fell off.
David Moreno, a life guard, rescue^
Miss Nathan and she was revived.
V
happiest experience or your lire'' | son wno wouiti inn t wormy ot uemg | afpnM
v MP Mir wnrRt tteiAW or
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Woosley, Tom B. The State Journal (Mulhall, Okla.), Vol. 11, No. 30, Ed. 1 Friday, June 27, 1913, newspaper, June 27, 1913; (https://gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc139835/m1/4/: accessed April 23, 2024), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, https://gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.