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THE MOTION PICTURE STORY MAGAZINE
recalling all its beauty when he last rode away from it, until Uncle Tom's voice broke the silence.
"Marse Hugh/' he said, his voice shaking with eagerness, ''here's one 'sides me what's glad to see yo'. She sabed yo ' life dat day yo ' thought y o ' horse jest strayed off from Lambert's."
Uncle Tom disappeared, and Hugh stared at Jennie in amazement. The purplish-blue eyes were soft and shining, but they fell before Hugh's gaze. Something neAv was tugging at the man's heart. The words Jennie had spoken when he last saw her came back to him, and he realized now how often he had thought of them.
"However you come, we will be glad if you are only safe," she had said.
"Jennie," he said, drawing her close to him, ' ' I am penniless now. I have nothing to offer you. but I think I have always loved you, only I didn 't know it. Do you want me, with only my love to offer ? ' '
There was no reply, but the velvety eyes shone thru a mist of happy tears as he bent to kiss her.
' ' Heah am yo ' weddin ' dowry, ' ' declared Uncle Tom cheerfully, a few
UNCLE TOM RESTORES TO HUGH THE FAMILY WEALTH
moments later, coming upon the scene and surveying the pair with a broad grin, as he dumped the resurrected chest upon the ground and displayed the gold and silver to Hugh's astonished eyes. "I'm right glad now I sabed it. It 's comin ' in mighty handy to fix up a new house. ' '
"So I have something besides love to give you, after all!" cried Hugh, happily.
"But love is best of all, Hugh," declared Jennie.
"Dat am a sure fac'," echoed Uncle Tom,
The Photoplay
By MINNA IRVING
O ! not until we read the souls
Of men, and women, too. Can we behold the lasting good
The Motion Pictures do ; They're something more than just to pass
An idle hour away. There is a lesson on the screen
In every Photoplay.
A wife, perchance, about to fly
With some enticing knave, Is shown that folly only leads
To sorrow and the grave — And many an erring youth is stopped
Upon his downward way, And many a hardened heart grows soft
To see the Photoplay.
The magic figures of the film
Point out the countless snares That lurk along the path of life
To trap us unawares ; St. Peter, at the gates of gold,
Is passing in. each day, A mortal soul to Paradise,
Saved by a Photoplay.