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MINARD'S
LINIMENT

19

MISS ALADDIN

—By—
Whiting P

Author Of
“One Wide River To Cross”
“The Unknown Port", Etc.

Christi

4 SYNOPSIS

Nancy Nelson is a sub-deb, a gay,
irresponsible girl of nineteen, with no
care beyond the choice of her cos-
tume for her coming-out party. Sud-
denly, in the market crash, her in-

_ dulgent father loses all he had, and
his family is faced with the neces-
sity of a simpler method of living.
At this juncture a letter is received
__from-an eccentric relative in Color-
ado, who offers the girl a home on
what seems to be impossible condi-
tions.

After much consideration Cousin
_Columbine’s offer is accepted, and
Nancy and Jack arrive at Pine Ridge.
Nancy set out one afternoon to

climb to the top of a hill so as to
obtain a view of the surrounding
landscape and misses the path Aurora
_ Tubbs had told her to follow. A truck
comes along the road, driven by Mat-
thew Adams, and she asks him which
way to go. They ascend the hill,
look around, and then go on to
Cousin Columbine’s. There Mark
_ Adam tells Nancy that his brother
Luke has broken his leg, and that
Jack Nelson has been hired to help
out while Luke's leg gets better. With
Jack away, Nancy finds that she is
lonesome, and having no books to
read, the idea of starting a public
library at Pine Ridge seems a good
_ one, and Nance writes home to get
her parents to send all the books they
could spare and all they could induce

__- others to let them have.

Nance and Matthew Adam go
Christmas shopping in a neighboring
_ town, On their return to Pine Ridge,
Nance is amazed to see the Colum-
and asks
_ Matthew if he knows why. He said:
_ Let’s go in and see. Then Nancy
learns that she is having her debut,
_ but in a different setting than had
been planned for her in Boston.

Now Go On With The Story

CHAPTER XIV.—Continued

_ “She was a courageous woman, my
mother, but I have sometimes won-
dered what was in her heart as she
set me on my feet and moved toward

that door, unarmed. Did she expect
to confront a band of roving say-
ages? What met her eyes was a

_ single brave, and a boy of, possibly,

Seven years old. No doubt the Indian

looked sinister enough. Only the

week before a woman not many miles
away had been scalped and muti-
lated. The horror of that story was

* still upon her; yet she did what may

have been the only thing that pro-
tected herself and me. My mother
smiled! It was, I imagine, a smile
born out of terror; but to that grim-
visaged Indian it was a gesture of
friendliness. Who knows but had
there been more such gestures, one
page of our history would have been
less tragic. And then, although her
hands were so tightly clenched that
(she found later) the nails had
pierced her flesh, she looked straight
up at him and said two words—
words which sounded strange to her
own ears in such a moment. Per-
haps you have guessed them, for
What my wonderful little mother
said was: ‘Merry Christmas!”

Miss Columbine paused, and there
was silence until Aurora Tubbs ex-
claimed: “But you ain’t tellin’ us
that that wild Injun knew what she
said, Miss Columbine! It’s not be-
lievable.”

The old lady seemed to be looking
et something far away.

“Not the words,” she answered.
“but perhaps he understood

the

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smile; and she spoke gently. He
came into the room, followed by his
boy, and stood, arms folded, looking
down at that small, gay tree and that
happy little girl who knew no fear.
For a moment I was too absorbed to
note the callers; then, glancing up
suddenly, I laughed with pleasure.
Here was another child! I held my
doll aloft so that the Indian boy
could see it. ‘Look!’ I cried joyously.
‘My new baby! See!’

“The boy reached out and took it
from me, his white teeth gleaming
in a quick smile. The man grunted
something unintelligible and moved
nearer the tree. He seemed, my
mother told me, both puzzled and ad-
miring, like a big child wondering
what it was all about. He touched a
yellow butterfly made from a scrap
of paper; said something more, let-
ting his glance rove slowly about
the room. Her heart quickened as
his eyes rested on the rifle; then sub-
sided when he made no move to
touch it. The boy, still admiring my
homemade doll, said something rapid-
ly and took from his neck a string of
beads, holding them out to me. It
was, my mother understood, meant
as an exchange for my clothespin|
baby, and fearing trouble should I
rebel, she said: ‘See darling, he has
brought you a Christmas gift! Let
him keep your dolly. I have another
exactly like it for you; and this poor
boy has no lovely tree, perhaps no
mother. Tell him to keep it’

“My lip trembled; but she took
the beads and put them about my
neck, and suddenly I was enraptured
with this new treasure. Apparently
I was desirous of doing something
for the other Indian, for I lifted the
paper butterfly from its branch and
held it out to him, saying: ‘It’s your
Kismus gif, man! Merry Kismus!’”

A breath of pleasure swept through
her audience as Cousin Columbine
ceased speaking; then she continued:
*I seem to remember the Indian
stooping to take my offering. I
know he smiled, though that is some-
thing my mother never corroborated.
He grunted a word or two, intended,
she was sure, as thanks; gave one
more curious look at the small tree;
and then they left us, those strange,
strange Christmas guests, mounting
their ponies and riding into the for-
est, disarmed, my father used to say,
by a smile of welcome.”

“And did you ever see them
again?” questioned Eve Adam, her
low voice very gentle.

“Never again. What they came
for—where they were going, we
never knew. And only a half hour
later there sounded close to that
well-barred door, the clear, sweet
note of a hermit thrush! Not until
then did my valiant mother give
way to tears.”

Said Matthew Adam, gravely:
“That is the nicest Christmas story
I ever heard, Miss Columbine.”

“And now,” suggested his mother,
going to the melodeon, “let’s end our
evening by singing some of the good
old carols.’”

Later that night when the guests
had departed and the Nelson man-
sion stood quiet in the moonlight,
Nance went to her tower and gazed
for a moment at the snowy Peak. It
had been a long, exciting day, and
suddenly conscious of being tired, the
girl opened the window and slipped
gratefully into her big black walnut
bed.

The moon was very bright and she
saw quite clearly Aurora’s calendar
and the military figure of General
Grant, looking down upon her from
the wall. She saw too, that her chif-
fon gown lay where she had tossed
it carelessly, in close proximity with
the patchwork quilt, and Nance
smiled to herself, there in the moon-
light.

“Chiffon and calico!” she murmur-
ed drowsily. “I guess they aren’t so
far apart as I used to think.” Then
her eyes lifted to the steel engraving
and she laughed a little.

“Good-night, General Grant,” she
said politely. “I was pretty insulting
to you at first, but I believe I’m get-
ting to rather like you. Perhaps it’s
the uniform, They say that sooner
or later a woman always falls for a
uniform. I’m sorry you weren't
downstairs this evening, General. It
—it was a wonderful debut!’

CHAPTER XV.

It was at Christmas dinner that
Nancy divulged her plan for the
Aladdin Library, a proposition which
met with instant enthusiasm. John
Adam readily agreed to supply the
sign; and one day in January Mark
brought it in from the ranch.

“Dad's been so temperamental
you'd think he was painting a pic-
ture for the Art Museum,” he de-
clared. ‘Honestly, Nance, since you
wished this job on him that man’s
neglected his cooking shamefully;
but the sign’s a corker.”

“TIL say it is!’ Nance spoke al-

most with awe. “I never expected

anything so—so professional. and
those Aladdin lamps at either end
are stunning. Your father must have
spent a lot of time on this sign,
Mark. Can you put it up if we go
over to the schoolhouse now?”

“T came prepared, lady; and there’s
a box of books at the station which
our sweet young Denver cousin col-
lected for you. Matt’ll be down to
finish the shelves this afternoon,
and— Hi there, Aurora Tubbs!
Come see this sign.”

Aurora emerged from the kitchen,
and stood, arms akimbo, admiring
eyes on John Adam's handiwork.

“Tf it don’t look exactly like a
boughten one!” she exclaimed. “But
if those fancy things is meant for
lamps, Mark Adam, they must be
terrible old-fashioned and hard to
fill. Your father’s a regular artist,
ain't he? I wonder would he letter
me some callin’ cards. I've hanker-
ed for some o’ the silly things ever
since Victor’s cousin Ella had some
writ by a one-armed soldier Who was
doin’ ’em in a doorway in Denver.”

“Sure he'll do ’em for you,” Mark
promised recklessly. “Hello, Miss
Columbine. Just look at Father
Adam’s masterpiece.”

Cousin Columbine came briskly
down the steps.

“It's a beauty, isn’t
Nancy, her face glowing. _

“Tt surely is. Are you going to
put it up to-day, Mark?”

“Soon as I swipe a ladder out of
your barn. You'll have to come
along, Nancy, and boss the job.”

Those days were full of interest,
for Aunt Louise and the girls at
school had responded generously to
Nancy’s plea for books. Mother and
Dad had doubled the number; Phil
had collected twenty more; and
Aunt Judy, immediately on hearing
about the scheme, had sent a check
for the purchase of new ones.

No check had ever looked so big
to Nancy Nelson, or been so wel-
come; and one day Mark drove her
to the Springs to purchase this im-
portant addition to her library. He
also improved the occasion consider-
ably by taking her to lunch at the
Antlers Coffee Room, and to a movie.
It was dark when they reached
Pine Ridge again, to find Aurora de-
claring that their mangled bodies
were doubtless at the bottom of
some ravine. In fact, as Mark said
later, she looked a trifle disappointed
when they arrived safe and sound in
her shining kitchen! ;

“Didn't I say you were demented,
Aurora Tubbs?” observed Miss Col-
umbine triumphantly.

Despite the tone, her faced looked
noticeably relieved; and Nance ex-
claimed: “Oh, dear! we only went to
a movie. I didn’t dream that you'd
be worried, Cousin Columbine.”

“No more I should have,”’ snapped
the old lady, “if Aurora hadn’t harp-
ed on the idea. Mark Adam, you'd
better call up your mother. No
doubt she’s wondering where you
are.” g

“And me, worryin’ myself sick for
nothin’,” grumbled Aurora. AY
movie! Not even a flat tire; and us
wonderin’ if your necks was broken.”

That day seemed long ago to
Nancy when on an afternoon in Feb-
ruary she went down the unkempt
street, turned at the filling station
and ascended a low hill on which
stood the abandoned schoolhouse,
“erected in 1902,” Cousin Columbine
had told her, to replace the one de-
stroyed by fire. It was a small,
frame building with no pretense at
beauty; but the girl paused for a
moment to admire John Adam’s
handiwork before she unlocked the
door.

The air outside was warmer than
within, and Nance opened a window
before proceeding with what Jack
called “janitorial duties.” The air-
tight stove must be lighted, and the
whole place dusted before the first
arrival should appear. These tasks
completed, Nancy sat down behind
the ktichen table which served as
librarian’s desk, and looked about
with satisfaction.

Perhaps the girl didn’t wholly
realize that this satisfaction which
was like nothing she had ever experi-
enced before, was the result of hay-
ing achieved something—something
really worthwhile. She had had help,
of course; but the idea had been her
own, and Nance had put it through
triumphantly.

“I couldn’t. have done it without
the others,” she told herself, “but
at least, they wouldn’t have done it
without me. It had never occurred
to them; and Cousin Columbine was
doubtful that the plan would work.”

Yet, being no wet-blanket, the old
lady had done her bit by arranging
for the use of the schoolhouse, and
writing to the Oklahoma family who
came to Pine Ridge summers. This
proved an inspiration, for they re-
sponded with a box of books and a
beautiful Navajo rug in grey and
scarlet which covered the centre of
the floor, giving the place a homey
look, 2113

it?” said

“And some day,” mused Nancy, as
if her stay in Pine Ridge was to be
indefinite, “we'll put-in a fireplace.
That's all we need to make it won-
derful.”

(To Be Continued)

New Method Of Rust-Proofing

Shows No Rust After 1,000 Hours
of Salt Spraying

An entirely new method of rust-
proofing, which, for the first time in
the history of electro-chemistry,
utilizes alternating current in the
process, has been perfected by the
Ford Motor Co., and is now being
used on its entire production of head
and tail lamps, at the Ford lamp
plant at Flat Rock, Mich—the
famous “factory in a meadow.”

The new process was adopted be-
cause it requires less floor space
than other rustproofing methods,
provides a surface all ready for
painting as the article comes from
the rustproofing machine, and with-
stands at least 300 hours of salt
spray test without deterioration.
Tests of 1,000 hours under salt spray
have shown no rust, Ford chemists
say. This is the equivalent of many
years of ordinary use.

The process, which was first de-
veloped outside the Ford organiza-
tion, did not work well when Ford
made the first commercial installa-
tion. The treated articles developed
in part an “alligator” surface which
was not fit for painting. It was fin-
ally decided the trouble arose
through the lamp shells being too
clean when they went into the zinc
phosphate rustproofing bath. So in-
stead of the shells going through a
washing machine first, they are now
made “dirty” by an operator who
wipes over with an oily cloth the
surface to be painted. The film of
oil provides enough protection from
the acid in the rustproofing bath for
the deposition of zinc to begin be-
fore the acid has etched the steel.

The effect of the alternating elec-
tric current is to permit the articles
to take up the zine without interfer-
ence from hydrogen bubbles which
form on the surface of the article to
be rustproofed in the absence of the
electricity. The process is not elec-
tro-plating, however. In _ electro-
plating, the article to be plated is
the cathode of the electrical circuit,
whereas in this new process the
article is alternately cathode and
anode, alternating 60 times a sec-
ond.

World’s Worst Volcano

Exudes Salts Of Ammonia Fumes
That Suffocate Every Living
Thing
Koh-i-Tafatan, known as_ the
world’s worst mountain, has again
been in eruption. It is on the Bri-
tish-Persian boundary in Baluchistan,
and for nearly 100 miles around no
man, beast or reptile can survive.
It is the only mountain in the world
which emits lava from its crater and
exudes dense volumes of salt of am-
monia. It suffocates every living
thing and burns up the plants. It’s
activity was heralded by flights of
frightened birds escaping from the
dreadful fumes which suffocate and
blind. No troops can be maintained
near Koh-i-Tafatan, although it is
on the frontier. ‘Mound of Hellfire”

the Persians call it.

How Club Was Named
An organization of veteran New
York printers is oddly named The
Judgment Day Club. On the night the
New York World suspended publica-
tion, a composing room employee re-
marked, “This is Judgment Day—it’s
the end of the World.” And that’s
how the fraternity of old New York

World printers got its name.

“wot I say is, the man should have
all the say in the home; that’s wot
I say.

‘I say the same—only I don’t say

itt

A WORLD OF FLAVOR

Tracing Migration Stories

Skeletons Help Archaeologist Work-
ing On Lonely Island In North

The life story of successive waves
of civilization which crossed the
island stepping stones between Asia
and America is being traced on lonely
St. Lawrence island in the Bering
sea.
The story—told in human skele-
tons, animal bones and broken uten-
sils—is being preserved in paraffin.
The work was described in a letter
from the expedition headed by the
noted Alaskan archaeologist, Dr.
Otto Geist.

Aided by 30 or 40 Eskimo laborers
from nearby Savoonga, the scientists
are excavating skeletal remains and
carefully brushing them with melted
paraffin to preserve them for ship-
ping to research laboratories.

Having removed much of the
overburden and remains of compara-
tively recent eras in the eight past
annual expeditions, the party this
summer uncovered a layer of ancient
culture antedating the discovery of
the island by Captain Ct der

Little Helps For This Week

God is not unrighteous to forget
your work and labor of love which
ye have showed toward His name, in
that ye have ministered to the saints,
and do minister. Hebrews 6:10.

Wherever in the world I am,
In whatsoe’er estate,

I have a fellowship with hearts
To keep and cultivate,

And a work of lowly love to do
For the Lord on whom I wait.

We do not always perceive that
the commonest things, the writing of
a note, the making of something in-
tended as an offering of affection,
our necessary intercourse with char-
acters that have no congeniality with
our own, may be made the perform~
ance of a most blessed and sacred
work, even the carrying out, after
our feeble measure, the design of
God for the increase of happiness.

Definite work is not always that
which is cut and squared for us, but
that which comes as a claim upon
the i

Vitus Bering on St. Lawrence’s Day,
Aug 21 (10th, old style) 1728.

The immigrants crossed over in
seven successive waves, Dr. Geist be-
lieves, between Asia and America.
Some earlier civilizations were of a
higher culture than some of the
later ones, he has determined.

4

Tackles Big Job

Mayor Of New York Aims To Make
City Noiseless

New York City, with all its hustle,

bustle and commotion, free of un}

ry noise, is the job tackled by

Webster Air Trophy

Kingston Flyer Wins At Competition
Held In Montreal

. With a skillful display of airman-
ship, Pilot Gordon R. McGregor,
president of the Kingston, Ont., Fly-
ing Club, captured the Webster
memorial trophy and the title of
Canada’s foremost amateur airman
at Cartierville airport at Montreal.

Competition for the Webster
trophy, awarded by the family of
John C. Webster, of Shediac, N.B,,
killed in a crash here several years
ago, was held under the auspices of
the Canadian Flying Clubs Associa-
tion with the ‘co-operation of the
Montreal Light Aeroplane Club. Mc-
Gregor eliminated 11 other airmen,
including two westerners, to gain the
award. °

Wes Hodgson, 18-year-old Regina
newsboy, who was competing in a
secondhand plane purchased from his
Savings as a newsboy, took every
test but failed to gain enough points
and finished last in the competition.
“Well, I may have better luck next
year,” he said after hearing the re-
sults. Fred Lasby, of the Moose Jaw
Flying Club, also competed.

Speed Of The Times

In 1820 it required 57 hours of
human labor to grow an acre of
wheat yielding twenty bushels, while
to-day, we are told by T. A. Russell,
of Toronto, it requires approximately
eight hours. This is only keeping up
with the speed of the times. We are
travelling to-day more than seven
times as fast as our grandparents
did a hundred years ago.

The first university chair in the
world devoted to the study of spirit-
ualism is to be established shortly
at Lund University in Stockholm,
Sweden.

In the South Sea islands, frigate
birds are trained to carry messages
like homing pigeons.

Mayor F. H. LaGuardia: Shrieking
autos, blaring radios, rumbling
trucks and noisy garages—anything
that makes a noise—are to be curb-
ed. Even police patrol cars and fire
engines must not use their sirens un-
necessarily. Heading the mayor's
planned program is a month of
“noiseless nights.” He thinks every-
one should be able to enjoy sleep, un-
interrupted. That campaign will
operate through October. Then, dur-
ing November, will came a month of
hoped-for “noiseless days’. The
mayor thinks that by the end of that
month he'll have everybody enjoying
24 hours of quiet each day. The
mayor has created the job of “NAC”
—wNoise Abatement Commissioner—
and given the portfolio to Major
Henry Curran. Major Curran now is
in Europe studying noise abatement
systems.

Rabbits Cause Floods

Dykes Burrowed Nearly Hollow,
Reason For Their Collapse

Rabbits have been responsible for
serious floods in the Swiss canton of
Valais. Intense heat throughout
Switzerland has melted an unprece-
dented quantity of snow, which has
swollen the headwaters of the Rhone
into flood tides.

This rare contingency is provided
against by dykes built on the banks
of the rivers. These, however, col-
lapsed due to the fact that they had
been burrowed nearly hollow by a
vast colony of rabbits.

Grows Billions Of Flowers
“The number of flowers used in
Grasse, France, in the manufacture
of perfumes staggers the imagina-
tion. In a single year ten billion
jasmine blooms, about forty million
pounds of roses and some fifty mil-
lion pounds of orange blossoms are
harvested for the great perfumeries.
In addition, Grasse sends cut flowers
by special trains to nearly every part
of Europe.

with its convenience  . . for,

“MORE CONVENIENT TO USE...

Just hang a package in your kitchen.

You'll be delighted
with one hand, you can easily

extract a single sheet at a time leaving the other hand free
to hold the “‘left-over” being wrapped.

Warehouses At Calgary, Edmonton, Regina and Winnipeg