FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH

Evening Star, Issue 22146, 28 September 1935, Page 6

FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH

From Switzerland comes this true story with an epic quality, a tale of life that will not be forgotten. Several travellers —English, French, German, and Dutch—were crossing the Alps in a car of the Swiss postal service. Although it' was summer snow had fallen at a low altitude, and from green fields tho groat yellow car mounted to wintry heights, all languages ceasing in admu’ation of _ the wonderful view. After a stop to unload mail for a hotel at the top of a snowy pass the journey continued over high bridges and alongside precipices. It was a most thrilling ride, with the possibility of death never really far away, yet no one seemed to fear the dangerous way, for the driver seemed so competent and he knew the road so well. Presently tho church tower of their destination was seen. The car was descending a steep road slippery with melting snow. Suddenly tho driver sounded his horn, not in warning, hut in salutation, as he approached his chalet home. His wife and their four-year-old daughter came out to greet him, and the child ran on. Suddenly tho passengers wore horrified to seo the little girl run forward, slip, and fall right in front of the car. The driver did not put on the brakes at once, but overran the child and gradually stopped. White as a sheet, ho got out and hurried back, but; tho little girl was not hurt; and kissed him good-bye before he returned. As tho driver came back to the car one of his passengers, an English statesman, shouted to know why he had acted as ho did; if the child had been killed it would have been his fault. The driver answered; “ I have known this road for six years. Had I put on the brakes sharply the car would certainly have overturned and we should probably all be lying at the bottom of that precipice. Instead of risking the lives of 12 passengers I risked that of my own child. “ I assure you it was the worst moment of my life! But it was tho only thing to do, for duty is above all. ~Gpd

was good enough to save my dear child’s life.” The Englishman looked at him and said: “ You are right; duty above all. I apologise.” TOFFEE A BED TIME TALE Brenda and Elsie were making toffee. ~ “I think it is cooked,” said Brenda, who was, stirring the. brown mixture carefully. “ Now we want % basin, of cold water to test it.” Just then a motor horn was sounded so loudly that both girls ran to the front of the house to see who was there. . “ Uncle Reg with his new carl cried Brenda. “ Now we shall have‘a ride.” “Come on, girls!” called their unde. “ I’ll take you as far as tho cross-roads.” . The toffee was forgotten. They raced out to the car, and a little dispute took place as to who was' to sit beside the driver. “ Change over at half-time,” decided Uncle Reg. “Hurry up! I can’t spare you more than 20 minutes,” All too soon they were at the crossroads, and while the girls were, changing places Unde Reg mad© a remark which gave his nieces a terrible, shock. “Who says toffee?” he asked, taking a packet from his pocket. “Toffee!” gasped the girls. “ On the gas all this time I” added Brenda. “I do hope mother’s saucepan isn’t spoiled.” “What’s the matter ?” asked their uncle. The girls explained, and l he agreed that they must hurry home. “ Don’t look so worried,” ho said. “ If tho saucepan is spoiled we must have a collection to buy a new one.” “I, can’t smell burning,” said Brenda, as they ran into the kitchen a few minutes later. “ Why, tho gas is out! But the tap is not turned off,” she added. “ The meter was very' obliging this time,” said) Uncle Reg. “ Put in another shilling, and you can finish your cookery.” Elsie turned off tho tap and Brenda ran to tho meter. “On second thoughts,” said Uncle Reg, “ I’d advise you to turn out the toffee. More heat might spoil it now, and I see it’s not quite cold.” “ Who taught you to make toffee?” asked Brenda. “ I’ve made pounds and pounds in my time,” laughed Unci© Reg. “ But I’m better at eating it! Hurry up and cool some and I’ll show you.” Elsie dipped a little toffee in some cold water and the girls waited anxiously for their uncle’s comments. “First rate!” he said. “But I shouldn’t advise you to run away in the middle of making your next batch. You might not be so lucky again.”