Richmond Hill Public Library News Index

The Liberal, 24 Jun 1926, p. 2

The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

Of late I had ‘lost too many rabbits from the stretch of rough land attach- ed to my cottage at the foot of the downs, and I depend on rabbits to augment my pension from the Cape Mounted Police, and that, may I say, does not allow me the luxury of a gamekeeper. ‘In the gray dawn I saw a suspicious movement in a clump of golden gorse on the hillside. Lying full length behind the furze, with a pair of binoculars clapped to her eye-s, was a pretty girl. I recogâ€"1 nized he? at (men. She was Molly Si!-¢ ver, a viIl-age beauty who, as every on i in there parts aware, is engaged to] be married to our local constable, ai young fellow of decent family named Tom Harman. The view her glasses afforded was familiar enough to me. To the right W“: aanr‘vPr bread down. on whichl stood a derelict “tower” windmill, new I felt something of the th.1 ill of the old days away out in the bush as I followed the telltale sway of the shoulderâ€"high gorse up the hill. On the very summit of the down I drew back with a start. The view her glasses afforded was familiar enough to me. To the right W“: alnsihsr bread down. on which stood a derelict “tower” windmill, now used. like :0 many old mills today (and more’s the pity). as a residence. Below us was a great loner coombe almost surround-ed by hills, and in the coomhe was an ab-zindonved rifle range, hidden from sight now by a thick blanket of mist. Whatever the girl was after. it was no business of mine, and I tried to retreat withou-t' disturbing her, but, clumsily I stepped on a rotten branch, and, as it snapped, Mon gianced over her shomZder with a look of unspeakâ€" able tenor. But when she saw me tl‘e color flooded back to 1191‘ pretty cheeks and a queer little cry of relief esciperl her. Th-cn she raised a finger to urge‘ “1 caution, and beckoned me to her side, ‘ Tet“ making room for me to knee] on [herto “ end of the ground-sheet. : EL; I raised my shaggy white eyebi‘ows.; Z] “You make me. curious," I said H] “You know that I’m an old poiic-eman can myseif?" l “( chzard 0f the Mill That is why people insist on Salads. Unvarying' Quality O millions of women the ' $5,000 Guarantee of Purity carried by every bar of Sun light Soap means :â€" Cleaner clothes Swectrsmelling clothes New/looking clothes Sunlight Soap prolongs the life of fabrics. , The Largest Sellng Laundry Soap in the world What dues Sam) Purityr Mean to You : PART I. girl was after, it was mine, and I tried to BY GORDON SUSSEX. “The dead German was found on his land," said Molly. looking dreamin into the distance. “and at the inquest the doctor said he thought it was a case of heart failure as the result of overexertion in climbing the hill.” “Well, the body wasn’t found on the hill. It was found down in the coombe, where it’s quite flat.” “Possibly he actually fell dead on the hill and rolled to the bottom.” “And his spectacles kept on his nose and his hat and stick rolled with him?” Moily shook her head. “No! That German fell dead right there where the shepherd found himvat the end of the rifle range close to the butts.” I looked at the girI in admiration. “Young lady," I said, “if I were still in' the pol‘ice I would enroll you as a detective !" “Yesâ€"I ought to have asked you to help me. But Tom and I wanted to make sure before we said anything. It would be a splendid thing for Tomâ€"” “Make sure of what?" I asked. “0f lots of str-angerthing‘s that have been happening rohnd here lately. How that German visitor real'ly died down there on the range last week, for instance. You heard all] about that?” Of course I had. One hears every- thing in these outâ€"of-theâ€"way country places. Briefly, a German stranger had been found by a shepherd, stone dead, meat the rifle butts. The body was still warm. “Tom,” said the girl, “is convinced that that man was murdered!” “Indeed! And what makes him think that?” ‘ “Why. no!” I exclaimed. “Nothing at all. In fact, I have only met him once at close quarters, and then that was only in passing him down the “I know I can trust you, Mr. Kemp,” returned the girl. “Well, I have come to watch Mr. Jezzard. I was up here ail dav yesterday, but; it was so misty that I couldn’t see the rifle ran-gig" “But why the rifle range?” I put in. “Because that is where Mr. Jezzard carri-Es out all his queer experiments.” “Oh! What sort of experiments?" For answer: she asked me if I had noted anything strange about the man who lived aIOn-e up at the windmillâ€"â€" an old fel‘ow named Michael Jezzard. lane T51 “It looks to me like one of the old! target frames," I said. “You know,' they work them from the butts. The‘ markers down in the trench haul them 5 up and down by a crank and a chain! But what on earth this one is being: used for at this mOinet is beyond me! altogether. Perhaps we shall see when it gets clear." ‘ | Even as I spoke a gentle breeze be-I gan to dispel the mist, and grod‘ual'ly‘l the whole length of the butts became distinctâ€"the framework and gear of i some dozen targets, the brick-sided] trench itself and the mounds of grrnssâ€"I covered chalk before and behind it. lThe butts were surrounded by a high land formidable barbed-wire fence, which, I afterward found, was pro» lV'ided with a gate which was kept lock- led’. It so happened that our position afl‘orded a view of virtually the whole length of the trench, and, somewhere‘ about the middle of it, I saw the figure‘ lof a man busily turning a crank. _ ; “That is exactiy what I want to find on , and that is why I have brought 9e glasses. I do ‘hope the mist will olegr AawaAy’ presently.” Sudden-fy nt-he girI pointed down at the sea of mist beiow us. “Look!” she cried. “It’s clearing. Th’ere! Something moved. What is it?’ I, too, saw a vague, shadowy, frame‘ like thing slowly poke itseif out above the mist. As I watched, it grew more distinct, but before I had time to make up my mind what it was it sank back out of sight. . “W'hatvdo you make of it?” asked Molly._ I focussed the glasses. They were extremely ow‘erfu‘l, and brought the trench so c ose that it seemed as if I could have tossed a pebble into it. As the lone figure down there peered up at the target he had just raised, I saw very clearly that the girl was right. It certainly was my peighhgx: Jezzard. The girl at fny side Banded me her binoculars. From the man himself I turned my attention to the target from above him and noticed that it was fitted with a wooden shelf. 0n the shelf, in a large wire cage, was a struggling rabbit. I could see the frightened creature’s litâ€" tle white tail quite distinctly as it Icaped this way and that in a frantic effort to escape. With a final glance at his prisoner, Jezzard turned and“ walked along; the trench, fooling with his hands, as though he were washing them. At the end of the trench was an iron door opening into a cel-lar‘ where targets and spotting discs and‘ such-like gear would have been kept‘ at one time. I watch-ed him throw the door wide open and turn on the threshold so that he could see the capâ€"_ tive rabbit. Then his arm reached back to something I could not see, and the next moment he snatched off his: cap and flung it into the air with a wild gesture of triumph. “I’ll swéar that’s Mr. Jezzard,” she said: “See if you c_an recogflize him.” Then, with his arms akimbo, he reâ€" turned to the spot immediater below the cage. Instantly I followed the di- rection of his gaze and saw that the rabbit was stretched out, quite still and apparently dead. "What does it mean?” shz asked. How could I say? That Jezzard was employing some si§ent and invisible lethal force was obvious. “Miss Silver!" I exclaimed. “I have it! Jezzard is experimenting with the Death Ray, and I'll swear that the devilish apparatus is instailed in the top floor of the mill!" Then Jezzard went through the same performance as beforeâ€"a touch at that something behind the iron door and the engine spluttered, gave one final bark, hissed and was silent. That evening I had a conference in my parlor with Police Constabie Har- man and Miss Silver. “I am convinced,” he said, “that Jezzard is experimenting with someâ€" thing more than the Death Ray." “Oh!” I exclaimed. “And why?” “For this reason." went on my young friend. “As you describe the experi- ments, the procedure seems‘to be as follows: First the rabbit is ’raised on the targetâ€"apparently fully exposed to the apparatus you assume is in the windmill. But, until chzard touches a lever, or presses a button. inside that cellar, the rabbit comes to no harm. But directly Jezzard does touch the lever, the animal dies. What does that suggest to your mind. Mr. Kemp?” “The obvious deduction," I replied, “is that he controls the Death Ray from the pit." “I agree that. that is the possible exâ€" vious. ‘ experm further devoting hi the Death the discove that he is thing whic} the Death I We ta after Mi had take thought hes But agre ation t the I)“ my expgrx Silv lat that is the possibie ex- said the young officer. inciple objection to it is ie most obvious explana- ' humble opinion, we are ' to be blinded by the ob- Now. let us take these )f Mr. Jezzard's a : us assume that he is ime to the perfecting lyâ€"which, of course of some one elseâ€" perimenting‘ with so late hour, and, young Harman ure, the more I eory. the more n some ntercen top 0 lthe hill. There was a brilliant moon, and I half hoped that I might learn "something more of m uncanny neigh. ‘bOr, Jezzard, if, by chance, he worked by night, though you may be sure that I meant to give the rifle range a pretty wide berth. "‘ * * In a bald patch am- ong the furze is one of my biggest warrens, Where the hillside is white with the chalk the rabbits have kicked out in making their burrows. As I agproached the spot I saw the figure 0 a man bending low over a hole. ’Here, then, I thought, was my poacher, caught red-handed. I grasped my heavy lash stick the tighter and crept inch by inch through the furze until I was but a few yards behind him. Then I strode heavily out into the ‘0pen and demanded to know what the (game was. A ' Minard's Llnlment for burns. i The best story of the dark days In [Europe comes down to us from the ‘Monk of Padua, who, in 1260, wrote as The poacher turned a white face to- ward me. Imagine my astonishment when I discovered that he was none other than Mr. ngard. In one hand he held a ferret, and at his feet lay several small nets and a sack, which proved to contain half a dozen live rabbits. From the sack I looked again at Jezzard. Jezzard replied very calmly. He said that he was not aware that he was trespassing; that indeed he quite thought that he was on part and par- cel of his own land, for there was no hedge or fence to mark the boundary. (To be concluded.) “Wail,” I exclaimed, “what do you mean by poaching on my Igndl’i’ "Religious tears exerted upon the people so strong an influence that men of noble and of igncble birth, old and young, traversed the streets- of all Italy naked, yet without shame. Each carried a scourge with which he drew blood from his tortured body, amidst sighs and tears. singing at the same time penitential psalms and entreating. the compassion of the Diety. Both by day and by night and even in the cold- est winters. by hundreds and by thous- ands. they wandered through the streets and villages and churches and cities with burning wax candles. Music was then silent and the songs of love echoed no more. nothing was heard but atoning lamentations. The most unfeellng could not refrain from tears." ' This self-torture was begun in the first century, when both clergy and laity, men. women and children, con- stantly chastened themselves with chains and rods, and it was not uulil 1418 that the practice began to stop. In the country districts of Spain and Mexico scourging ls still popular 0 certain days of the year. ‘ Nothing to Boast of. He had come down to Ilarham for the. weekend‘ and. having adjourned to the local inn, he soon found a man to take him round the historic old spot and show him the sights. After spending a most pleasant and remunerative morning. the guide and the visitor were returning to the lat- ter’s hotel when they came across a very old man~-iu fact, he was the old- est inhabitant of the village. “One hundred and two!” exclaimed the visitor on hearing of the old man's age. "One hundred and two! I sup- pose the townspeople are mighty proud of him." ' "I dunno," responded the native. “His record ain‘t so much. He ain't done nothin‘ in this town 'cept grow old. an’ it took him a darn long time to do that." 346 Yonge St. wage Housewife- nd of child: New Maid Waiter Andrews The Dark Days. All Depends. -â€"“I want a maid th ,ren Are you?" dâ€"“It depends on Torcnn King Edward was christened in St. George’s Chapel at Windsor Castle, and it was stated at the time that the banquet following the ceremony cosrt £200.0007â€"a figure which should be taken with a grain of salt. A christening in the Royal Family used to be an elaborate and costly at- fair, but the tendency now is towards simplicity. D‘ignified siience is often the result of not knowing what to sayâ€"La, ignorance. The men who like the income~tax are those who make an income collect- ing it. THE CHARM OF SOFT FABRIC. IO EDEAL. A! i UJZIBIIJ‘ 1' Tho Toron‘a Homlm lor Incurlblu, Alnllatlan with Ballevuo and Allled New New Yurk Olly. oflcrl n lhre. your c of Tralnlnu to young woman. havlna reaulred education, and dealrom of beau nurul. Thl: Hounltal nu adopted "I. a hour syllem. The nuplh recclvo unlton the School. a monthly allowance and Ira cxoenges lo Ind from New York. For In Inlornl.tlon wrlta :ha Suuulnlendant. Colman-Keen (Canada)leitcd¢ Dept. t 1000 Amherst Sarcet. Montreal ’ -' 1 alittle thing Eat More Mustard! 1 thatmeamgglofl Enjoy it on both hot and cold meats ~~with bacon, sausages, eggs, fish. Let the spicy flavour of Keen’s Mustard add greater relish to every meal. It’s bes't when freshly mixed with COLD water. Recipe Book mailed free Royal Christenings. Kids diées tion. NURSES nzuuqu, In led Honolulu. rearl' Conn: having 1h: o! hecomlna ed {M mm. I unlfornu a! Ind lrlvcllng For lunhcr 7672 Clear Evening. The crescent moon is large enough to linger ‘ A little while after the twilight goes: This moist midsummer night the gar- den perfumes ‘ Are earth and apple, dewy pine and rose. i Over my head four new-cut start arol glinting, ‘ And the inevitable night draws on]! I am alone, the old terror takes me, Evenings will come like this when It am gone. ‘ ’ Evenings and evenings} years on your“ foreverâ€"-â€" ".- Be taut, my senses, close upon and.“ keep The scent, the growing chill, the 31144 ing firefly. A poem learned before I fall asleep. â€"Sara. Teasdale.‘ Shakespeare Va Scotsman? ‘ The Sphere tells of a Scottish boy In an English school who when bewas ask-ed where Shakespeare was- born, promptly replied, “In Scotland, sir.” “What makes you think Shakespeare was a Scotsman ?" said the schoolmas- ter, the reply Mlnard‘s Liniment for Backache. “Because of his abeelity, sir," was A Canadian General Ek The difference between tired, strained wrists and honing ease depgnds on this exclusive __Hot- point Thumb Rest, which pct- mits the hand to rust in an easy, natural manner. immead of the tense grip needed with ordinary irons. *Ask your dealer about the $5.50 Special Hotpoint Iron 51 extra. «mmwmm and good for you. ISSUE No DPSTROYS

Powered by / Alimenté par VITA Toolkit
Privacy Policy