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|jg|
uITTLE MISS FIXIT,
Care Tri-Weekly Journal,
Atlanta, Georgia.
A BIBLE THOUGHT FOR TODAY
And thou, child shalt be called the
prophet of the Highest; for thou shalt go
before the face of the Lord to prepare
his ways, to give knowledge of salvation
unto his people by the remission of their
sins, through the tender mercy of our
God, whereby the dayspring from on high
hath visited us, to give light to them that
sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
to guide our feet in the way of peace.—
From the Gospel of St. Luke 1:76-79.
Cooperative Marketing Service
THE antics of the cotton market dur
ing the past ten days give new em
phasis to the conserving principles of
•o-operative marketing and demonstrate
again what has long been self-evident, that
individual selling of cotton leaves the grower
largely at the mercy of chance.
Cotton has jumped thirty dollars a bale in
market value in a few days. Yet, during this
time there has been neither increaise nor de
crease in the amount of cotton available for
use. Nor has there been increase or decrease
in the amount needed to satisfy normal con
sumption.
Hence it must be that so great a rise in
so short a time has been owing to other fac
tors, such as the outlook for the next crop,
fluctuation in general business and likeli
hood of a larger demand for cotton than
had been expected during the three months
of low price levels. To this must be added,
as always, the influence of speculation—
the buying of cotton that is not wanted and
the selling of cotton that is not owned.
With most of the cotton produced in
America being sold by the producer in the
fall months at the best price he can obtain
at the moment of necessary delivery, a nor
mal reaction from the influence of demand
on supply cannot, be had. For thus in three
months there is thrown on the market the
greater part of the cotton produced, which
must supply the mills for twelve months.
There goes out of the hands of the pro
ducers, then, nearly one hundred per cent
of the year's cotton production at a time
■when there is spinning need for only twehty
five per ceht of this production. Evidently
the flooding of the market far beyond the
Immediate consumption needs—a thing that
happens every fall and has so happened for
fifty years—will force the price of cotton
far below what it would be if there were
put on the market in September, October,
November only the amount needed by the
mills of the world during that period.
This does not mean necessarily that the
price of cotton will rise as the season waxes
and wanes. There are exterior factors, some
of which are mentioned above, that modify
the market price. The effect of such influ
ences would be felt whether cotton were
sold gradually during the year or all in
three months.'
The co-operative cotton selling associa
tions, formed under a plan devised by Aaron
Sapiro and now functioning in every cotton
producing state, are based on the primary
principle that the dumi ' of he
months' supply of cotton on the market in
three months is an economic wrong and is
the main reason why the cotton producer
is not prosperous save in abnormal times.
The co-operatives rest on the rock of grad
ual selling, thus obtaining for their mem
bers, not the highest price that may prevail
during the year and certainly not the low
est, but an average price.
Corollary to this, they promise their mem
bers to obtain for them certain profits from
the actual handling, warehousing, insuring,
compressing, freighting and delivering to
spinner, which profits go to middlemen of
one sort and another in the case of indi
vidual selling. Further, they point out that
Fixit, who will quick
ly and cheerfully see
that things are made
right.
We want every sub
scriber to get The Tri-
Weekly Journal reg
ularly and punctual
ly. We 'want all of
them to receive what
they have paid for.
We want only satis
fied subscribers. A
small percentage of
errors are unavoid
able, but we want to
correct them quickly.
Address,
THE ATLANTA TRI-WEEKLY JOURNAL
they grade the cotton they handle in the
interest of their members, whereas cotton
sold individually Is graded by employes of
the buyers.
In theory there is no flaw in the Sapiro
plan of selling cotton co-operatively. In ac
tual practice, its success depends on the
soundness and efficiency of its management,
as is true with every other business enter
prise.
The Georgia association made a splendid
showing for its members in the cotton year
1922-23. It paid out to them, according to
its records, better than twenty-six cents a
pound for middling cotton, after the deduc
tion of all expenses of management and the
setting up of a contingency reserve. This
figure contrasted brilliantly with Hester's
figure of twehty-four cents as the average
price for the season. In short, the Georgia
association sold its members’ cotton so well
that it paid all the expenses of doing busi
ness and then gave to the producers two
cents a pound more than they otherwise had
reason to expect.
The accounts of the association, it is
pointed out, were rigorously audited by a
firm of national reputation. This audit re
port was immediately placed in the hands
of every bank in Georgia, the association
doing this in the stated belief that its in
terests and the interests of the banks of
Georgia are identical in one particular—
that of increasing the productiveness and
prosperity and happiness of the cotton
farmers.
The financial affairs of the association
are subject to the constant scrutiny of a
nel. Also they are handled with the advice
large board of directors of notable person
and judgment of a committee from the
clearing house banks of Atlanta, of which
committee Mr. E. R. Black, president of the
Atlanta Trust Company, is the chairman.
This advisory committee has been function
ing since the Georgia co-operative began ac
tual business, to the satisfaction of the as
sociation and the Atlanta banks. The inter
est of these latter institutions lies in the
fact that at times the association is a
heavy borrower, one of its main reasons for ■
existence being that such an organization
can borrow money more soundly and more
cheaply than can individual producers.
When the cotton season opens in the fall,
the co-operative extends a substantial ad
vance to the member when he turns in his
cotton. This advance to Georgia farmers
last fall was at the rate of twenty cents a
pound, one hundred dollars a bale, and nec
essarily was made before the association
was in position to sell any cotton. The
money for the purpose was borrowed from
Atlanta banks—hence the business sound
ness of clearing house-committee-supervision
of the finances of the association.
One of the interesting developments of
the past year has been the great number
of public indorsements made of the asso
ciation's conduct of business by the coun
try banks, news of which has been
made public from time to time. When
the association was in the formative state
and during the first year of its work, bank
ing interests naturally waited to see how
well the theory worked out. Now they seem
to be virtualyl unanimous in their indorse
ment not only of the theory, but also of the
practice of co-operative marketing of cotton
in Georgia.
The Journal has consistently advocated
co-operative marketing under competent
and trustworthy management, believ
ing that it is sound in theory and work
able under proper direction. The record to
date of the Georgia Cotton Growers’ Co
operative Association indicates that the
forty thousand farmers of Georgia who
make it up are to be congratulated on their
choice of officers.
And the fact that cotton can fluctuate
thirty dollars a. bale in market price in a
few days proves that the association is
needed to protect the producer and the pub
lic.
QUIZ
Any Tri-Weekly Journal reader ran
get the answer to any question puzzling
him by writing to The Atlanta Journal
Information Bureau, Frederic J. Has
kin. director, Washington, D. C., and in
closing a two-cent stamp for return
postage. DO NOT SEND II IO OL R
ATLANTA OFFICE.
Q. What is chiaroscuro? H. T. K.
A. This name is given to the arrangement
of light and shade in painting. It is that
element which not only gives volume to an
object, but gives also an impression that the
light is carried into the shadows and that
were the shadows suddenly lifted the sub
stance of the picture would be revealed.
Da Vinci, Corregio, Grunewald and Rem
brandt were the masters of this technical
characteristic of the art.
Q. What does “Scaramouche” mean?
G. S. P.
A. The word “Scaramouche” means a
boastful, cowardly person; a poltroon. The
name was first applied to such a character
in an old Italian comedy.
Q. Who won the first English Derby?
W. O. H.
A. It was won by Dionted on June 7,
1880.
Q. What was the family name of Lord
Delaware, Colonial Governor of Virginia?
C. G. D.
A. The. family name of Lord Delawaie
was Thomas West. The name "Delawate
was originally spelled “De la Warr.
Q. How will the “Shenandoah’’ .'and at
the North Pole? W. D. G.
A. It is not to land at the Pole. The
plans for the expedition provide that at no
time will the airship be more than half its
j cruising radius from a mooring mast base.
SLANDER
BY HAZEL DEYO BACHELOR
What has gone before. —Miriam Col
well, a young business woman, has an
episode in her life which, although in
nocent, has caused scandal. She has al
most forgotten this when a year later
she meets Anthony Breen and falls in
love with him. He loves tier In spite i
of himself, but he is a stickler for con- I
vention and when he takes her to meet
his mother, suggests that she say noth
ing of her work. Miriam inadvertently
blurts out the truth. —Now go on with
the story.
CHARTER. XX\ HI
A Temporary Readjustment
a S far as Miriam was concerned, the fact
/-A that she had been forced to take a stand ■
where her work was concerned made
things somewhat easier for her. She never
afterward felt so humble in Mrs. Breen’s
presence, she never again tried to be some
onfe other than herself, she never again took
the attitude of apology to Anthony’s mother,
and Mrs. Breen never forgave her for it.
She could have forgiven the girl if she
had admitted herself a nobody, if she had
beeiw willing to be patronized, but she could
not overlook Miriam’s defiance, for that was
what. she called it, and, although she accept
ed her for Anthony’s sake, she reserved her
liking.
Anthony was very silent on the way home
that night, and Miriam made no attempt to
lead him into conversation. It wasn’t until
they had reached Miriam’s apartment and
were alone in the lamp-lighted living room
that Anthony referred to what had happened
that evening; then he said:
“I’m sorry that this had to happen.’’
Like his mother, he waited to give Miriam
a chance to humble herself, to ask his par
don, to tell him that she had been entirely
in the wrong and was sorry, but Miriam did
no such thing.
“I'm sorry, too, Anthony, if you feel that
way about it. But, after all, wasn't it in
evitable? Sooner or later it would have
come out, and you know I’m not ashamed of
my work; on the contrary, I'm proud of it.
I’m sorry you can’t feel that way about, in
stead of looking upon it as a disgrace,
something you feel ashamed of.”
Anthony looked at her, but with him it
was different. He loved this girl. He loved
her so much that he could not bear any
thing to come between them. In that he was
unlike his mother, and suddenly it seemed
to him that nothing mattered save his love,
and that Miriam seemed very far away from
him at that moment.
“Miriam!” His voice had the old husky
note in it.
Instantly she turned, and her proud' young
eyes meeting his defiantly, suddenly softened
and fell, but she did not move.
It was he who crossed the room to her,
who gathered her up into his arms. “It
seems years since I’ve kissed you,” he mur
mured, “eternities since I’ve held you in my
arms.”
His. lips were on hers and, after an in
terval, she spoke teasingly. “Do you love
me enough to forget that I’m a working
girl?
“That you’ve been a working girl,” he cor
rected, “for, after all, you're giving that up
very soon now, aren't you? I don’t intend
to wait for you, sweetheart; there’s no rea
son why we should.”
“I expect to give up my work,” she an
swered, “just as soon as I can arrange
things. But, Anthony, you trust, me, don’t
you? lon believe that 1 am honest with
you, and that I consider myself entirely
worthy of marriage with you?”
“I think you are the most wonderful wom
an in the world,” he murmured passionately.
“I believe you're as honest as a man, and
for a man who has never before believed in
a woman, that’s saying a great deal.”
He was holding her in his arms now, and
Miriam was too much in love to discount
that fact. The reaction from the misery she
had felt during the whole evening spurred
her on to be generous, to make concessions,
and she said impulsively: “I want your
mother to like me, Anthony, and if it would
make you happy, I'll go down and stay there
as soon as I can arrange things. After all,
I m glad she knows about my work. I feel
freer because of it. I don't think I could
ever b e happy if 1 felt that 1 had to play a
part.”
CHAPTER NX IX
Suspicion
Il wasn't until she began actually to think
of giving up her work that Miriam real
ized how much she would miss it. She
dreaded speaking about it, and although
each day she set out with the firm determi
nation to tell Mr. Carson of her engagement,
each day she found herself postponing the
issue. Finally Anthony spoke to her about
it, and Miriam flushed to the very roots of
her hair.
Anthony, I haven t told them yet.”
Anthony raised his brows. He had away
of doing it that reminded Miriam of his
mother, and she quickly looked away.
I can t understand why you haven't told
them, he said finally. “Boes your work
mean so much more to you than I do’ Is
that it?”
“You know it isn't that.”
“Then what is the reason for the delav’”
Miriam hesitated and then she raised her
eyes to his. “Oh, Anthony. 1 can t expect
.'OU to understand, but they've been so per
fectly sweet to me down there. I love the
and Mr. Carson is so fine and so
splendid to deal with. I can't deny that I
shall miss it. not so much as I'd miss von of
™" rse l n,iss it: k ’ s to be a
lai t of my life. Do you understand at all?”
Anthony felt a cold anger rise up in him
and with u came all the doubt and distrust
be had experienced in the past. For
e time being a wide chasm yawned be
' himself and this girl he had asked to
be his wife. She seemed like a stranger to
Wh ’t f ° r ’ after , all ’ wliat did be know of her?
'hat reason had he to expect that she was
everything he believed her to be? Wasn't
this hesitation of hers proof of the fact that
she had some reason for not wanting to give
in- h with'er k? t Ppr , haps ’be would miss dln
ho?- i Cleat,lles like the man he had seen
I i at the Aber <‘ronibie; perhaps she
ooked forward to life with him as dull and
f e to fi ie , andl it suddenly occurred to him
its "as what he got for niarrving some
one beneath him in station. '
“You don't understand, do you?” Miriam
«o a rrv Sayi rn teli d M h ° l ’ ed you would - I'm
promise I will ” CaFSOn tomorrow, J
h “'p' h° n ac . count '” Anthony
, h .. ■ ' ethaps there s some reason
-idera ion ar Y n Sh ° U '? be §iV<?n special con
code a ? ; n „r° U WO,k,ng women have a
oo r , ? ’ °"' n ' you re n °c particularly
of r cours a e b °v U nn th n niPn . y 0U ’ re s^Pn with - a nd.
broad “ ’ '' ” a P rld e yourselves on being
Anthony!'• There was shocked horror
saying?”™ S V °' Ce ' “ Ant hony, are you
“rm making it easier for you. mv dear”
aloo ness ’ Btill jn thar tonp °f tev
aloofness Cant you see that? I'm sav
inlyou. the trouble of an explanation ”
w a - E cn P Ju na i lOn "hat?” Miriam's tone
Mas suddenly as cold as his. -f don't think
I quite understand what you're insinuating.
~ ! believe that your intention is to de
liberately insult ;ne."
'Oh, come now." There was a sneer about
nts handsome mouth as he spoke.. He had
gone beyond the point of knowing what h*
was saying. His one desire was to hurt the
girl before him. to wound h»r deliberately.
THE COUNTRY HOME
BY MRS. tV. H. RELTON
TIU. . UTURE OF OUR REPUBLIC
A GOVERNMENT by the people, for all
the people may be fine to read about,
but. it is manifestly more than diffi
cult to put into comparative use or practice.
Human beings are what they are, and 1 sup
pose they will always be human in their in
stincts and purposes. , During the Revolu
tionary war the colonial patriots were able
to keep in mind what, monarchial tyranny
meant to human beings overseas, and their
vision was clarified by their own experience
with the Hessian soldiers of Great Britain.
General Washington had immense difficul
ty with American Tories. These people
preferred the rule of King George to a gov
ernment by the people, for all the people.
They enjoyed “the pomp and state' around
the palace gate.” It is a fact that Great
Britain had a strong and active and wealthy
following among the colonists during the
Revolution.
I call to mind the old story of Major An
dre, who was caught on his way' to West
Point to convey to Benedict Arnold the bribe
that he had agreed to take to deliver the
American troops to the soldiers of Great
Britain, as per contract.
History tells us Major Andre was a nice
gentleman. He was loyal to his king. He
took his life in his hands when he begun
his journey' to meet Arnold and thus defeat
General Washington's attempt to hold West
Point, on the Hudson river. Major Andre
traveled on the Connecticut side of the Hud
son river, traveling northward. Os course
there were pickets stationed along the route
to watch out for British spies. Three of
them were together when Major Andre came
in sight.
The story is so well known that I will
not go into details. Those plain citizens of
the state of Connecticut halted the British
officer, investigated him, stripped off his
military boots and other equipment, and
found the incriminating documents. Major
Andre took his risk and failed. Those hon
est farmers could not be bribed with British
gold. Major Andre was executed as a spy.
Benedict Arnold escaped in a British ship
and lived out his blackened and distorted
life to a peaceful deathbed in England, but
he was excoriated by every patriot in the
United States of America.
General Washington was on the defensive
all the time. He retreated as many times as
he went forward, and it is an unquestioned
fact that the patriotism of the plain country
people in the colonies secured the indepen
dence of this republic in the war of the
American Revolution.
Hundreds of them had experience with
the tyranny' of George IV, and they knew it
was now or never to break loose from the
yoke of England. Philadelphia was a hot
bed of Tories. The English generals had a
fine time with the rich Tories. It goes with
out saying that, the rural sections were as
loyal to/General Washington and his army.
We have gone along for less than two
hundred years remembering the struggle
that the continentals had to overcome and
stand upright, as a republic. This republic,
like the republics of Greece and Rome in an-
Harmonies of Our Hidden Self
By Dr. Frank Crane
WHO can tell the hormonies of the spirit,
or understand the unconscious re
sponses of the soul? It may be a face
or a flower, a night-cry or the scream of a
distant locomotive that sets the tingle of
forgotten emotions going, or fills you, you
know not why, with acute pain, as if for an
unknown sin, or with emptiness and longing,
as if for an unknown love.
The son I of man is very wide and wonder
ful. There are Mammoth Caves in it that have
never been explored. There are black, still
flowing rivers that have never been fathom
ed. There are glistening Himalayas that
have never been scaled. 1 here aie poles
where conscious thought has never penetrat
ed, and there are wild, fever tropic paupas.
And in all these regions that lie outside
the bounds where our ordinary sensations
cluster there are strange creatures, our hid
den selves —selves we hardly know or not
at all.
In the caves are unacknowledged fears,
thin-winged timidities, that flutter in us, but
scamper like bats when we turn on the lignt.
In the soul's cellar are eyeless doubts, dumb
and brainless prejudices, stupid Fasoldts and
Fafners of belief. In our inner Dismal
Swamps we hide our possible crimes, oui
beast-selves, hideous selves of lust and gieed,
of hate and blood-thirst.
If you turn over an old log which has lain
long in the woods, you will discover many
white, bloodless insects, who have been liv
ing there in the cool darkness. If you were
to take the lid from a soul, what curious
things you would see!
It is when we honestly look into ourselves
that we learn what a mistake it is to call
some men good and others bad. These are
not terms to be applied to persons, but to
parts of persons. Dr. Jekyll was good, and
Mr. Hyde was bad, only they were the same
man. Nothing so blinds our judgment as
the habit of assuming that each person has
a “character.”
“Give a dog a bad name and hang him.
We send one man to the penitentiary for life,
and sentence another man for life to the
episcopacy, under the delusion that the one
is permanently bad and the other incurably
good. So we batten down the lid forever
upon the wretched selfishness of my lord
bishop and upon the holiness and nobleness
of Convict Number Thirteen. Both continue
to exist, but as white, crawly, suppressed
things.
Because there are so many selves in tnis
self, there come many moods. Today my
heart seems full of roses and sunrises. Yes
terday it was rue and willows.
What was it in you that was set a-trem
bling when you heard the tread-tread and
looking out of the window saw the soldiers
marching? What forgotten tragedy stirred
in its tomb? Or was it the heartbreak of
some ancestor that echoed in your b’ooti.'
Mother seems sad today. There is a rea
son. All is well with the household. The
sun is shining. Spring is in the air. Why
does she withdraw to her room and s.t. pen
sive? Let her alone. There is a little grave
in her heart, and today the lilies are jpeu
ing upon it.
If we knew how vast is the soul we would
respect more one another's moods.
If we knew the infinite chords of the hu
man heart's wild harp we would be less
startled at its outlandish melodies.
If we knew all our suppressed selves we
should never judge our neighbor.
If we knew- the inside history of the other
man we should never envy- him.
Charity, humility, and grandeur of spirit
come from the knowledge of ourselves.
(Copyright, 1 924.)
A writer says that angels are women’s
doubles. It isn't necessary to mention the
sex of’the writer.
A woman’s pride may be due to some
thing she hasn't got, but which she wants
you to think she has.
Back of that desire was the idea that he
would bring her to his feet, and he would
humble her pride and in that way make her
more entirely his own possession.
ThniMlay—“Humbled” and “An Afternoon
Tea.”
TUESDAY, APRIL IS, 1024.
cient days, is still on trial, ami it has been
prophesied again and again that we will first
decline into a military dictatorship and later
become a monarchy. Some of my critics
will say “Mrs. Felton doesn’t know. Be
fore we accept a military dictatorship, this
county must vote on it.” Mrs. Felton re
minds you that no vote was allowed to the
people of these United States before s
country plunged into war with Germ. .
There should have been a referendum to the
voters, and to hear from the parents of the
young soldiers who were conscripted in
1917, when the United States felt that this
country was to be “kept out of war,’ with
tile re-election of President Wilson in No
vember, 1916—t0 keep us out. Without go-
I ing into details, the South went, out of the
Federal union, 1860-61, because of the
election of Abraham Lincoln in November,
1860. We did not wait to see if Lincoln
(would commit an “overt act.” We fired on
' Fort Sumter before he had been p. month
in the White Hoqse as president. The most
astonishing part of such great and violent
national movements is the surprise of their
suddenness, to the 'people most concerned,
iand to be followed by their supine accept
' ance without armed resistance on their part.
History repeats itself.
! What has been done can be done again,
■in quick time and order. Self-government, is
I a failure over there. Instead of stopping
world’s wars by the defeat of Germany, ev
i ery one of those European countries engaged
in the World’s war are spending millions to
get in shape for what is avowedly expected
and foretold by ail of them —that another
general combat is en tapis right now.
Germany' is liable to abanoon democracy
at any hour. They' can stabilize with a king
or an emperor, and they prefer either of
them to riots, poverty, hunger and the dis
credit of a conquered province. Time enough
being given, Germany will recoup with al
liances with Russian soviets or Bulgarian
I bandits, and it Will be a toss-up concerning
I Alsace and Lorraine, and France under-
I stands that England has its hands full with
labor in control of British legislation and
the clouds of revolt looming up on the po
litical horizon. Japan, but for the- late stu
pendous earthquake, was ripe and ready to
revenge itself on our Pacific coast legislation
which forbids Orientals to own land and be-
I come citizens in these United States. The
naval oil for Japan's navy was already stored
in Tokio, to adventure either on the Philip
pine Islands or the Hawaiian Islands as a be
ginning. The earthquake exposed the pipes
leading to the fuel oil and tens of thousands
of the Japs were burned alive after the har-
I bor was coated with the escaping combusti
, ble oil.
It is a question, a serious one, how far
I reds and radicals in the northwest can be
■ trusted to put safe men in public offices, and
whether Ihe.se reds and radicals would be-
I have in control of the United States govern
i merit.
* I It is no use to say this country will rise
iI up and fling ’em out. We have been made
. acquainted with sudden surprises and most
, I unexpected developments, when law and or-
• der succumbed to disorder and disunion.
WORRY AS A HABIT
By H. Addington Bruce
HAS IT never occurred to you, who write,
complaining of your inability to find
relief from the malady of worry, that
possibly worry is in your case not so much a
malady as merely a bad habit? Certainly
this possibility is suggested by 'your own
statements.
You write that you worry about everything
—your work, the weather, the safety of your
children when they are out of your sight,
anticipated evils of all sorts. Hark back in
memory and I fancy you will find that this
chronic indulgence in fretful anxiety and
gloomy foreboding has been of gradual growth.
There was a time, you perhaps will recall,
when you worried only occasioinally and for
reasons giving good ground for worry. Little
by little you developed a tendency to worry
about imaginary as well as real ills. Until
today it actually is easier and more “natural”
for you to worry than not to worry.
This certainly is the way worry takes pos
session of many people. Essentially it is noth
ing more or less than a habit process. Like
every habit it gains strength with repetition
until finally it obtains complete mastery.
Also like every other habit, though, the
worry habit may be broken. But it can be
broken only through the gradual substituting
of a counter-habit of meeting life’s vicissitudes
and trials confidently and serenely.
Instead of making the irfipossjble resolution,
“I will not worry,” set a watch, so to speak,
to catch yourself worrying about some spe
cific happening or expected happening.
When you do thus catch yourself, bring
back to recollection similar occasions when
you worried needlessly. Reason with yourself
that if it was foolish to worry then, it will
be no more sensible to worry now.
Force a smile, however difficult it may,seem
to you to do so. That smile will have a re
flex action helping you to feel more cheerful.
For the same reason, assume an erect, confi
dent posture. Don’t let yourself adopt the
drooping posture of anxiety. Stand straight,
front life courageously.
And—most important of all—busy yourself
with some activity that will keep your atten
tion interestedly occupied. If, for example,
you turn attentively to your work, you can’t
very well be worrying at the same time, for
there won’t be room in your mind for worry
ing thoughts.
It will not always be easy to adhere to this
program. In fact, since you are by your ofrn
admission a confirmed worrier, it is likely at
first to be exceedingly hard. But don't give
way to despair.
No matter how many failures you may have,
persevere with your systematic self-discipline
for cheerfulness. Your successes, little by
little, will begin to outnumber the failures.
And each success will make surer the final
outcome of a replacing of your pernicious
worry habit with a benign habit of self-con
trolled tranquility.
(Copyright, 1921.)
Loyal Frien cis' Cl lib
NEARLY every Southern State is repre
sented by new'members of the Loyal
Friends’ Club, which is made up of
those who obtain one or more new subscrip
tions for The Tri-Weekly Journal.
We do not ask our good friends to go to
any great amount of trouble. We only want
those who believe our paper is a good value
for the money to teil their friends about it
and, if not inconvenient, to forward to us
such subscriptions as they may thus obtain.
We think they, will be doing not only us
but these friends a distinct favor.
Here is a list of the latest members:
Mrs. Helen Cook, Shiloh, Ga., renews and
sends one.
\V. T. Mullikin. Route 2, Stillmore, Ga.,
renews and sends one.
.1. M. Turner, Munson, Fla., renews and
sends three.
T. J. Neal, Derita, N. C., renews and sends
one.
C. A. Faulk, Vernon, Fla., renews and
sends one.
.1. W. Moore, Eufaula, Ala., renews and
sends one.
T. M. Parsley, St. Andrews, Fla., renews
MY WIFE AND I
BY CAROLYN BEECHER
CHAPTER I
4 OI am the only woman you ever
loved?” Natalie's eyes searched me.
“The only one I ever have really
loved,” I evaded, flushing under her glance.
A low ripling laugh was her only com
ment. Her laugh was one of her fascina
tions; it reminded one of softly gurgling
brooks. But now as it died away my cheeks
grew hot. It had rippled knowledge. How
was I to know my lovely bride had no Il
lusions about men or matrimony?
I had been neither belter nor worse than
any other young man 1 knew. I had my
nffairs —what red-blooded man of twenty
eight has not? Some of them I had escaped
only' by using considerable diplomacy. I had
had the normal, healthy young man's desire
or i'rmale campauionship. Yet I had spoken
i .it;J 1 met Natalie I never had
thought seriously of marriage.
We had been married two weeks when we
settled in our New York apartment.
“We’ll get acquainted now,” I laughingly
told her, sure that 1 would be loyal to her,
fonAer of her than ever I had been of an
other, although I knew so little of her.
“1 think I know you quite well, Bruce—■
better than you think I do, perhaps.” Once
again 1 saw that disturbing look of compre-
I do not t'uink Natalie would have been
tabulated as clever.’ But versatile! To dance
with her was to dance with a nymph. She
was vavacious and would be, I was #urej
what we men call “a. good mixer.” Then
was excitingly pretty, had a positive flair *iß|
clothes, and—she loved me.
The ideal woman with whom to spend my
life!
With Natalie I never would he bored—
that bete noire of married life. She seemed
to know intuitively just how to keep a man
on the qui vive of expectancy. It never en
tered ray mind to speculate upon how she had
gained this knowledge. She also had all the
inoder'n girl’s belief in the freedom of the
individual—a belief that coincided with Jry
own. f
It s so foolish to expect people to give up
their old friends just because they marry,”
slra said, and I agreed with her—then.
Those first weeks of my married life were,
I was sure, the finest of my life. They nulli*
fied all my previous acquaintance with the
fair sex. In Natalie 1 had found the “one
woman”—my mate.
She pouted charmingly when I confessed a
'iesire to get back to work, wanted to know
if 1 had already grown tired of her? Then
laughed gaily, poking fun at herself for bein*
such a “baby.” 1115
In those first days in our home she wore
ier wifehood with evident happiness, with
joy She busied herself in furnishing the
apaitment—l knew nothing of such things
and she was artistic to her finger tips. Laugh
ngly she apologized for her extravagance tell-
1 could afford to indulge her within rea
per feet in® .h reSU,t ° Ur apartmeil t, small but
setfim. i u appo,ntmen ts. became a proper
setting for its lovely mistress.
My uncle, for whom I had been named
and with whom I had lived, senior member
of Hie law firm of Bruce & Hancock, did
not, 1 knew, approve of my marriage, but
as he had said nothing I could not well
bring up tlie subject. 1 was his confiden
tial secretary and looked forward to being
a junior partner.
I ncle Robert had welcomed me back kind
in>prv C, and la i e a business made »LV return
-miely, and 1 dug into work with zest I
a greater ‘ incentlve thaa ever,
Her love of beauty, lovely thngs, was a
passion. Occasionally, even in those first
beautiful days, I wondered if I should be
able to satisfy this passion—give her all she
demanded. When I voiced this she said:
) 011 are clever, and a lawyer. Lawyers
always make money, don’t they?” , •
Her naivette delighted me.
“Not always, dear, but you shall have ev
erything 1 can give you.”
“\ou see, Bruce, I have to keep myself,
our home, lovely for you. I might lose you
if I didn’t.”
Lose me! I could scarcely endure my
absence from her during business hours.
The prosaic thiYigs of daily intimacy took
on a different aspect because of her. Noth
ing shared with her seemed commonplace.
1 was sure of her love. She had seemed
as eager as I to he married, to have out fu
ture settled —a future that seemed so rosy
that even thought of spending my life with
her —my Natalie, my wife, the mother of
my children.
I gave no thought of her upbringing to
her environment, the kind of mother she
had, the advice she might have received.
What man in love considers these
1
< 'out ilined Thursday. This latest story by
Miss Beecher will delight, those who read
her serious novels, “A Woman Obsessed”
and “Her Money.”
MY FAVORITE STORIES
By Irvin S. Cobb
A well-known publisher, while calling on a
rich author—oh, yes, there are such things
as rich authors —complained about the lack
of good champagne in the present era.
The writer, with a wave of his hand, sum
moned a high-priced butler and decanted ,a
full quart of fizzy water into the publisher
who subsequently brought up at a well
known club pretty well spiffed.
“Where did you get it, Blank?” inquired
an envious friend.
Somewhat thickly, the Illuminated one
gave names, and the year of the vintage.
“Oh, I see,” said a jokesmith present. “A
best seller has been emptying a wine cellar
into a book seller.”
(Copyright, 1924.) t
and sends one.
.1. J). J’arker, Route 1, Marble, N. C., sends
one.
.M. C. Miller, Route 1, Haleyville, Ala., re
news and sends one.
Mrs. R. A. Lindsey, Coleman, Ga., renews
and sends one.
J. H. Martin, Route 1, Guntersville, Ala.,
renews and sends one.
A. A. Tinner, Route 2, Chickamauga, Gfl.,
sends two.
Branson Harper, Macksville, W. Ya., re
news and sends one.
Toni Cameron, Neuse, N. C., renews add
sends one.
T. M. Harthcock, Route 2, Newhill, N. C.,
renews and sends one.
W. E. Shepherd, Wacissa, I'la., renews and
sends one.
M. B. Whitter, Route B, Tully, Fla., re
news and sends one.
Mary .1. Hines, Route 5, Mt. Airy, N. C.,
sends one. „
W. R. Harris, Route 2, Box 62, Macon, N.
C., renews and sends one.
T. W. Hinton, Comer, Ga., sends three.
R. M. Dalton, Route 2, Dugspur, Va., re
news and sends one.
T. (i. Kirnsey, Route 1, Marble, N. C., re
news and sends two.
.1. R. Mabus, Route 3, Ackermen, Miss.,
renews and sends one.
L. R. Golden, Route B, Brewton, Ala., re
news and sends one.
J. 1. McSwain, Route 2, Norwood, N. C.,
renews ands sends one.