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THE TRI-WEEKLY JOURNAL
ATLANTA, GA., 5 NORTH FORSYTH ST.
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LITTLE MISS FIXIT,
Care Tri-Weekly Journal,
x Atlanta, Georgia.
BIBLE THOUGHT
And Moses went, up into the mount, and
a cloud covered the mount; and the glory
of the Lord abode upon Mount Sinai: And
he was there with the Lord forty days and
forty nights; he did neither eat bread nor
drink water. And he wrote upon the tables
the words of the covenant, the ten com
mandments. And it came to pass, when
Moses came down from Mount Sinai with
the two tables of testimony in Moses’ '
hands, when he came down from the
mount, that Moses wist not that the skin \
of his face shone—Exodus 24:15 and '
34:28, 29.
t ——
W. J. Harris' Record of Service
To Georgia and to the Nation
MONG many tributes of the day to
United States Senator William J.
Harris, three are particularly notable
A
k as coming from distinguished Georgians who
have studied his record closely, and who, .by .
virtue of their own experience in the affairs
of the people, are well able to judge public ;
service. First, we may consider the statement
of his colleague, Senator Walter George; next
that of former Senator Hoke Smith; and then
that of President Charles S. Barrett, of the
National Farmers’ Union.
Addressing the citizens of his home county,
at Cordele, last week, the junior Senator de
olared; "In nothing affecting Georgia and
Georgians has Senator Harris spared himself.
As the second in rank among the Democratic
members of the appropriations committee he
has been effective in aiding agriculture. The
appropriations for research work, for market i
news service, for the pecan and peach sta- I
tions, for tobacco culture, for the sugar cane
industry and for boll weevil extermination,
attest his great usefulness to the farmers of
Georgia. Not only is his record as a mem- •
ber of this committee full of service, but his
record in matters of general legislation also
is most constructive. He obtained helpful
intendments to the warehousing act and the
cotton census act, and his bill providing for
delivery of farm and poultry products by |
parcel post to the purchaser or consumer in
nearby markets has passed the Senate and
is now on the House calendar. At all times I
I have worked with Senator Harris In a spirit
of utmost cordiality. Together we favored i
and supported the immigration law, the act
creating the Intermediate credit banks, the
Democratic tax bill, and many other meas
i ures. His record and his untiring energy
commend Senator Harris to our people.”
By no means do Senators always work to
gether for the common weal. Men there are
who either can not or will not co-operate
but must have all things their own way,
which is the way of self-aggrandizement.
Who does not know this type? He is habit
ually attacking, but rarely or never con
structing. He revels in sensational speeches,
but can not abide hard thinking or hard
work. Ever prompt to criticize, he is seldom
on hand to help. Deeming himself all-wise,
he lacks the first essential of usefulness,
which is good will and a readiness to labor
with others. From such bigotry Senator
Harris is happily free. He has the fortunate
knack of getting along with folks, and hence
‘of getting things done. This appears in the
fact that during his first term he has re
ceived committee places which a veteran
statesman well might prize; and in the further
fact that notwithstanding a Republican ma
jority in both the Senate and the House, he
hAs brought about the enactment of a num
ber of measures peculiarly beneficial to the
Democratic South and to his own constit
uents. This he has accomplished, not by
truckling to Republican sentiment—for no
man is more staunchly true to his party
colors—but by the sheer merit of his causes
and by holding the respect of those about
them.
ly and cheerfulj r 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
1 No other Georgian and few Americans, we
i suppose, has had so broad and varied experl
i ence in affairs at Washington as former Sen
ator Hoke Smith. As secretary of the inte
j rior in the cabinet of President Cleve
-1 land learned the business of the
i capitol from the executive point of
I view; and as United States Senator
! during a most memorable ten years «of Ameri
. can history, he learned it in the legislative
: field. More recently, as a leading membei
i of the Washington bar, handling cases of na
| tional importance, he has observed the situa
tion from still another apgle, and a most en
; lightening one. He knows the toil, the sac
rifice, the resourcefulness, the determination
! and the tact which are essential to success
In the Senate; and knowing, he declares:
I
I “Everything considered, his energy, his com
! mlttee alignments in the Senate, and the in-
I fluence he Is capable of wielding convinces
me that Senator Harris should be retained.”
A terse tribute this,' but packed with sig
nificance!
And now consider the meaningful words
of a Georgian w’hose life labor is to serve
the interests of the people on the soil and
who for eighteen years has been the unani
mously chosen president of the American
Farmers’ Union. Knowing well whereof he
, speaks, Charles S. Barrett asserts: “Senator
Harris has voted right and has worked very
hard. He should win, and I hope he will
I win. The farmers greatly appreciate his
work in their behalf.”
How deserved this testimonial is, a glance
at Senator Harris’ record will reveal. Note,
to begin with, that he is the only member
from the Southeast on the sub-committees of
eight members •each that have charge of
appropriations for agriculture, good roads,
rural routes, postoffices, and related inter
ests, in which the people of Georgia are large
ly concerned; and also that he is next to the
ranking Democrat on the all-important ap
propriations committee. (It may be observed
in passing that an independent Washington
paper predicts that he may become chairman
in the event of a. Democratic majority in the
new Senate, inasmuch as Senator Overman,
'now the ranking Democrat on the committee,
is understood to prefer the chairmanship of
the judiciary committee.) Thanks to Sen
ator Harris’ insight and alertness and to the
regard in which his opinion is held, we have
had liberal appropriations for various en
deavors looking to the control and ultimate
extinction of the cotton boll weevil, appro
priations which well may result in the sav
ing of hundreds of millions of dollars to
Georgia agriculture. We have had, moreover,
large allotments fl of government funds for
promotion of tobacco growing; for expert
study of divers problems having to do with
the peach, the pecan, and the cane syrup in
dustries; for free market news service to
farmers; and for a new branch office, in
Atlanta, of the foreign and domestic com
merce bureau, as a means of finding foreign
markets for the region’s agricultural and in
dustrial products. These and sundry other
measures which Senator Harris Introduced
or effectively aided, are substantial evidence
of his usefulness. Nor should it be forgotten
that he succeeded in putting a stop to unjust
discriminations by a meat-packers’ combins
against Georgia-raised hogs; nor that he sue
[ cessfully Intervened to prevent the govern
ment’s fixing a price for cotton, which West
ern Senators proposed should be as low as
fifteen cents, in a period in which cotton
eventually sold for as much as forty-five
cents. These are but glimpses into his record
of service to Georgia’s basic Industry and to
the people behind it; but they' show incon
testably that he has been watchful, that ho
has been active, that he has been loyal.
In the realm of general legislation Senator
Harris faces forward. His Is that true pro
gressiveness of which John W. Davis has
said, “All that goes to make better and hap
pier and freer men and women is progress;
all else is reaction.” During these last five
and a half years as Georgia’s Senator he has
given himself with wholeness of heart and
singleness of mind to the upbuilding of that
which makes for human betterment, human
happiness, and human freedom. Diligently
and without fanfare of trumpets, he has gone
about the business of his’people, counting no
matter too small for his attention if it
touched a Georgian’s interests, and no labor
too arduous if It helped his commonwealth
or his country. We do not wonder that he
is respected by his colleagues and praised by
men of great experience in public affairs.
There stands his record. Envy can not
alter It; vituperation can not obscure it. “A
good tree can not bring forth evil fruit,
neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good
fruit. Wherefore by their fruits ye shall
know them.” This is why The Journal trusts
and believes that Senator William J. Harris
will be re-elected.
PUNGENT PARAGRAPHS
If you think you are outclassed, you are.
•
The man who calls on girl only every
other night is only half in love.
The secret of success is to find something
that you can't do —then don't do it.
What a happy world this would be if a
:an could only believe all he says.
A successful doctor may spend money like
iwater, but he doesn't get it from the well.
I HIS BROTHER’S WIFE
BY RUBY M. AYRES
CHAPTER LIII
Saved From an Impulse
rpHE woman at his side spoke in her soft
| voice.
“What a lovely night, David! It
makes one feel quite sentimental, doesn’t
it?”
Her soft skirfs brushed his feet—the scent
her hair seemed to fill his senses.
For a moment he looked away, and tried
o believe that it was Mary standing beside
him; that he had only to put out his hand
to take hers —only to turn his head, and
meet the shy sweetness of her eyes.
When a man is in love, and unhappy,
even the sympathy of a woman for whom
he cares nothing is sweet. David might have
said or done anything during the next few
minutes had not Fisher saved the situation
; by walking into the room and switching on
the electric light.
He started when he saw the two at the
window.
“Sorry. I thought the room was empty.”
, He caught the scowl on his sister’s face,
and wondered if he had interrupted any
thing of much moment. He came forward
awkwardly, and made some platitudinous re
mark about the weather.
He would have gone away again, only he
know that it would look too pointed. He
flashed a whimsically ’ smiling apology at
Dora.
Afterwards she raved at him.
“He could have asked me to marry him
if you hadn’t come blundering in! You real
ly are a perfect idiot, switching on the light
in that manner. I believe you are deliber
ately trying to spoil my chances.”
She broke into the usual storm of tears.
“Just when everything was going so well.
I believe in his that he really does
care for me.”
Fisher listened unmoved.
“If he does, tye can find a time and place to
tell you so, without any assistance from me,”
he said dryly.
She stamped her foot.
“I think I am beginning to 'hate you!” she
stormed. >
Fisher walked out of the room.
His sympathies were all with David. Per
haps he realized at last something of Dora’s
shallowness and utter selfishness.
He passed a restless night, wondering how
he could help him; he did not for a moment
believe Dora’s story of having seen Mary
, with a man. He would have liked to tell
David that he did not believe it, only |t
I seemed so impossible to give his own sister
away.
I That promised letter from the Argentine
I seemed to be their only hope of ever solving
I the whole mystery, but it was cold comfort
' to look forward to another month of wait
i ing before the mail could possibly arrive.
David went down to the Red Grange for
i the week-end. It was so lonely, Miss Varney
[ complained to him in one of the many letters
I she wrote. “Nobody knows how I miss that
1 poor child. David, why can't you find, her?
1 Is London so very easy to hide in?”
' Apparently it was, David thought wretch
edly, as he went off home to try and cheer
her u;x; in his heart he was beginning to
i think that Dora had been right, and that
I Alary did not mean or wish to come back to
1 them any more.
“I have done my best,” he told Miss Var
' ney, as she rushed to the door to meet him,
1 and, ply him with questions. “The only thing
is to believe that she does not wish to see
' any of us again, dear, I am afraid.”
“I don’t believe it!” said the old lady,
i “She loved being here. She loved us all.”
DAVID turned away.
“Perhaps we flatter ourselves too
much,” he said.
i He felt restless and unhappy at the Red
1 Grange. He had wished to be there, and
I yet now he was back once more, he felt
' that he would give anything to be in London
, again.
i Ddwn here in the country one was so out
of touch with things. Any day Fisher might
have news of her, and then it would mean
t an elapse of hours before he, David, could
[be communicated with and anything could
! be done.
He was back in town again on the Tues
' day. He went straight to Fisher’h office,
i “Have you any news for me?”
But there was none. Monty tried to say
what he had been thinking for the past fort
night.
■ “Give it up, David —she’d come J)ack if
I she wanted to. » She must have recognized
the advertisements I have had inserted.”
j David set his jaw doggedly.
“I mean to find her, if it takes me a year.
I mean to hear the truth from her own lips
before I give in.*
There was a tap at the door. A clerk
' entered with letters.
! Fisher glanced up.
“Put them down, Evans; thank you. You
I need not wait.”
But the young man still lingered.
“Thete is one, sir, not meant for this of-
' fice, I think.”
He indicated a thick envelope on the top
of the others.
The name at the head of the address had
! caught his eye when lie was sorting them —
> “Miss Mary Furnival,” and beneath it Fish
i er’s office address.
Mary Furnival! The name of the girl he
; had so romantically met in the omnibus the
■ night the Multane went down. He had
■ thought about her so often since, and won
| dered if he would ever see her again. It
| had given him a little stab of pain to so
I unexpectedly see her name written there.
Fisher glanced at,it, and for a moment
1 his eyes flashed into excitement. Then he
I said quietly:
“Oh yes, thank you—that will do.” He
looked at the young man curiously as he
left the room. He was sure now that Evans
' knew something of Mary, or of Nigel’s wif .
i He had felt sure of it all along, even when
Evans had denied knowledge of that cable.
When the door closed, he pushed the let
ter over to David.
“This may help us,” he said.
David snatched it up.
"For Mary! Why—l shall open it, of
. course.”
He slit the flap agitatedly and drew out
the contents. They were badly written, and
smeared as if with tears.
Dear Mary—l have written to you ever
so many times-, and never had one answer.
It is unkind of you, considering all that
Nigel and I did for you when we were first
married.
I am in dreadful trouble, as I told you in
my last letter. Aly husband is so ill—they
say he will never be well again—and nearly
all our money has gone. I ask you to see
David Bretherton for me, and f ; nd out if
he would not do something for us. I think
he might, as he got rid of me cheaply.
A\ hat did you do with the money you got
for tile contents of flat? I would not
ask you for it. but I must have money some
how—we want to come home, but we can't
j unless someone will help us.
Robert is broken-hearted that he should
have brought me to this. He says over and
over again that it would have been far bet
i ter for me to have remained Nigel’s widow
than have’ become his wife. He doesn't
-know my precious brother-in-law. does he?
I might have starved for all he would have
cared! But you used to be kind. Alary, so
do be kind now. and try and help me. If
| only I could come home! It's so dreadful ■
WHAT IS THE CURE FOR CRIME?
THE cost of crime is the heaviest burden
carried by civil government.
The expenditures made from year to
year for the support of criminal courts, the
maintenance of jails and reformatories, and
the general execution of penal laws amount
to hundreds of millions of dollars. And the
moral waste of criminality is far greater
than the monetary loss' which atises from it.
How then shall crime be arrested and the
fearful damage which it does be diminished?
To this and kindred questions novel an
swers are now being offered by a new school
of criminologists.
These men teach that crime is not really
crime at all, but is the result of disease;
that it is not so much misconduct as misfor
tune. They locate Its source in physical de
fects of the brain, and insist that criminals
commit their offenses because their lower, or
emotional brains are defective. They affirm
that intelligence and emotion are functions
of two different pieces of physical mechan
ism, so that the same man may have a per
fectly good thinking machine and a thor
oughly bad feeling machine.
The -psychology upon which these penolo
gists rest their theory of crime is baldly and
boldly materialistic.. One of them has re
cently set forth this philosophy briefly as
| follows:
“Every human being has tw'o minds—not
in any mystical sense, but literally. One is
in the upper part of the head, the 'cortex.’
With this group of gray matter we reason.
' This is the ‘thinking’ mind.
“The other mass of gray matter is the
; ‘feeling’ mind. It is ‘the base of the brain.’
It receives the impressions of the senses and
is the home of tjae emotions. It also controls
the muscles, by.signals through the nerves.
The signal to move is an act of the will, and
the will, too, has its home in the lower
mind.
“These are the only two functions of the
lower mind that concern crime: the emotions
and the will. All crime comes from a defect
of the lower mind only, because all conscious
acts require the exercise of the will, and all
Improper acts arise from improper emotions.
The criminal, then, is a man whose lower
mind is detective, so that he does not have
the right feeling about what he ought to do.
And this defect is a physical defect of the
actual gray matter of the lower mind. His
moral judgment are bad because he has an
imperfect physical mechanism in his head
that makes his mopal judgments for him.
“A man’s upper brain may be perfectly
normal, while the lower brain may be defec
tive. It is quite possible for a man to have
an upper brain (intellect) so good that he
could have invented the steam engine, and
for the same man to have a lower brain
(emotion) so bad that he could have com
mitted a cold-blooded murder. And the re
verse combination is possible: a man may
not have sense enough to earn his own liv
ing, but his emotional response to life may
be perfect—-he would not steal a penny nor
harm a fly. And every conceivable combi
nation between these extremes exists in the
people a y boul us.”
Os course all this theory sets aside the
doctrine of the freedom of the will; and
for crime it calls for pity, and not for pun
ishment.
Nevertheless, .the remedy for crime which
these theorists propose is an elaborate, im
practicable and costly system of segrega
tion of criminals which amounts to impris
onment for life. They believe that all crime,
being the result of an inherited defect, is
incurable, and that by the separation of
criminal offenders from all other people it
can be eliminated from society in a genera
tion or two. They would have prisons give
was to “segregation farms,” on which the un
fortunate victims of hereditary defects may
live together all their days in happy and
harmless isolation from the balance of man
hind. , 1 hey say that under this “humane
system men and women would occupy sep
arate farms, and that in a generation or
■wo by this plan of negative eugenics the
human race would be rid of the tainted
blood-stream that is the cause of crime.
They do not say that this purging pro
gram would have to be world-wide, and
that every nation would have to adopt it in
order to make it effective in any nation.
But, of course, this would be necessary; for
otherwise a polluting current of defective
mmigrants might flow into a purified popu
lation of a reformed nation and thereby
undo all that had been accomplished in one
or two generations.
The program fails also at another point.
It herds all criminals on established plague
being out here amongst strangers, and with
no money.
Please cable me if you get this safely. I
' am sending it to Mr. Fisher’s office, as no
other address seems to find you.
Your miserable, unhappy
DOLLY.
That was all. David finished reading it
to the end, then he turned back, and looked
j at the address.
I Fisher was watching him silently.
“Well?” he asked.
“It’s from the woman Nigel married. She
; has evidently married again.” There was a
sort of grimness in his voice; the lines of
' his mouth looked hard.
i “Read it—read it for yourself,” he said.
He pushed the letter across.
“She seems to have very strong ideas
i about me. I cannot believe that she got
I them from Nigel.”
“I always said she was no good. Nigel
I made the mistake of his life when he mar
ried her. Poor boy!”
CHAPTER LTV
On the Track
THERE was a little sftence while Fisher
read the letter.
“We know better how’ we stand now,
at least,” he said more cheerfully.
David brought his clenched hand down on
; the writing table before him. There was a
ring of passion in his voice.
“But it doesn’t tell us where she is, man,”
he said. “It doesn’t tell me where to find
her.”
Fisher hesitated. Presently:
“If you don’t mind, I'm going to send
for that clerk of mine,” he said impulsively. |
“Don’t say anything—just sit there and
listen.” He rang the bell at his elbow.
Evans came into the room.
“Yes, sir.”
Fisher indicated the torn envelope on the
table before him.
“About this letter, Evans.” he said slowly.
“This letter addressed to Miss Alary Furni
val—do you happen to know anyone of
that name?”
The young man’s face flushed.
“I did. sir—yes.”
“You mean that you no longer know any
one of that name? Don't be afraid. Evans.
You may be able to help us very considera
bly—Air. Bretherton and myself—if yon will
be straightforward and tell us all you
know.”
The young man glanced at David.
“It isn’t very much, sir.” he said then,
almost resentfully. “But one evening—some
weeks ago—the night the ATultane went
down it was, Y sat next to a lady in the
omnibus going home, and we got into con
versation. T spoke of the boat having gone
down, and she almost fainted —she said she
had friends nn it. She seemed very upset.”
He hesitated, flushing nervously.
Saturday—“Aton<-» in London.’’ Renew
your subscription now to avoid missing a
chapter. [
OLD-TIME RELIGION
BY BISHOP IV. 4. CANDLER
THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 4,
spots, but does not provide any means to
prevent them from perpetrating crimes
[ among themselves and upon one another,
j Nor does it provide for the safeguarding
of the lives of the multitude of sane offi-
I cials who would be required to control
these “segregation farms.” A mob of crim-
I inals, with keen intellects and degenerate
I emotions, wjould be very hard to handle.
Again, we may ask who would determine
the defective persons to be sent to these
“segregation farms?” Would juries say
who should be thus confined for life? And,
if so, might not some unrecognized defective
get on the juries? Or would the civil au
thorities have to depend on expert psychia
trists to discover defections? And, if so,
how could we be sure that many of these
experts were not degenerates? Evidently
some of those who have testified recently
in a notable criminal case in Chicago are
decidedly defective, for they show sharp
minds and dull emotions. And much of the
talk of these proponents of “segregation
farms” as the slow but sure cure for crime,
seems a bit crazy. In the educational world
nearly all the leading psychologists are
somewhat queer.
And here we come to a real danger to so
ciety today. In schools and colleges a ma
terialistic psychology is quite prevalent, ac
companied by a lot of academic usages and
customs which lead inevitably to the de
rangement and degradation of the emotions.
Campus excitements, in which unimportant
things like gamevS are magnified, and impor
tant matters of mind and morality are ig
nored, cannot fail to yield a considerable
crop of degenerates.
At the same time these influences have
penetrated multitudes of homes to the de
thronement of parental authority and the
production of youthful anarchy by a de
bauching type of demoralizing sentimental
ity. Our times need mohe sanity in the
schools and colleges and more sanctity in
the homes. If these high things abounded,
crime would be cured far more effectively
and far more speedily than “segregation
farms” can remedy it.
Upon this general subject the New York
Commercial, in a recent editorial, spoke
most wisely. The editor said:
“A great many people are wondering if
the revelations of the hearing in connection
with the murderers of the Franks boy in
Chicago are not indictments, in some de
gree, of the modern educational system.
“It is plain that the murderers got an
education of a kind in school and college,
but it appears merely to have given them
| the idea that they were supermen. Os
course, they were only two sapheaded boys
w-ith swollen egos—distended perhaps be
cause of what they had been taught in col
lege, and, we might also add, what they had
not been taught there.
“It is certain that perversion may be of
various kinds. The intellectual kind is fre
quently the forerunner of moral perversion,
if not the cause of it.
. “According to the alienist, Dr. White, the
boys were crammed in school with things
from books, but when it came down to the
I development of a true sense of life and its
■ obligations, the awakening of intelligent
consciousness, of the duty of the individual
to himself and others—well, there was no
| such thing.
I A great many boys have been ruined by
I being permitted to imagine that because they
nad acquired an ability to read, write and
cipher that they were, therefore, abnormally
night indeed that they surpassed ail
others —and that they had a power of per
ception and reasoning not possessed by other
people. wLixci
i n. sounds foolish, of course, but it is
the solemn truth, nevertheless.
tinir A a gr » at in , jury is wrou S h t by permit
ting a youngster to think that the simnle
XwmX’ 1 " a ” charter*
enough tn h a least not important
enough to be stressed when it comes to do
ve oping intelligence and fitting the indi
v‘dua for a place of usefulness in the work
I here are a great many young men in the
tOda -f Wh ° are more or less tinted
fiirt\i le aw £ ul me ntal disorders which af
flict the murderers of the Franks boy. One
finds such a taint in young gunmen, in boys
who demand a man’s wages for pretending
to work at something that they know noth-
Who SCOff at churche s. and sneer
&u h human attributes as pity, sympathy
and human charity—indeed, boys knowing
absolutely nothing well that is worth know
ing, but who have yet arrived at that state
or mind wherein they consider themselves to
be smarter, more intelligent, keener, bright
er. abler and more profound than anybody
else in the world.
“The Greenwich Village idea of literature,
jazz notions concerning morals, a cynical
attitude toward things that most people re
\ ere, and a callousness which denies expres
sion to some of the most appealing and
beautiful human emotions are all proofs of
a breakdown in the system of education by
which the individual acquired such erudition
as he may fairly claim.
“Any education which deforms rather
than develops is to be condemned even
though it be obtained in a seat of learning
famous as an educational institution.”
Our educational institutions need to be
cleansed of sentimentalists and doctrinaires;
and the homes of our country need to have
in them more prayerful and pious parents [
exercising their patriarchal authority with I
firmness.
Alost of all, the world needs a mighty re- '
rival of religion that will clarify intellect,
cleanse emotion, and control the will. Jere
Macaulay and Sam Hadley, by strict religious i
work among the outcasts of New York, made [
more defective men effective for good than
all “the segregation farms” of the apostles ;
of eugenics could help back to decency in a '
thousand years.
Every successful preacher of the gospel'
sees constantly multitudes of the most de-I
graded men and women restored to purity
by the power of the new birth.
Regenics, not eugenics, mankind needs i
most.
The -world of our day has had enough of;
psychological humbuggery and sociological !
quackery.
It is over-populated with experts and per-!
verts.
Its most urgent need just now is a return
to common sense and old-fashioned religion. I
QUIZ
Any Tri-Weekly Journal reader can
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
inclosing a two-cent stamp for return
postage. DO NOT SEND IT TO OUR
ATLANTA OFFICE.
Q. What town of 1,000 inhabitants is I
farthest from a railroad? L. W. AT.
A. Rand AlcNally company says that Ka-1
nab, Kane county, Utah, probablj’ fills this |
position. In 1920 it had a population of i
1.102 and is 126 miles from Marysvale, and!
125 miles from Cedar City, which are the
nearest railroad points.
Q. AVhat will remove the odor of gasoline I
from clothing? I have hung it in the air. ;
but the odor lingers. E. T. S.
A. Eventually the odor will disappear, hut I
hear will expedite its removal. The garment j
may be placed before a lighted oven or over I
a radiator. I
MOVIE MAD
BY HAZEL DEYO BACHELOR
What has gone before.—Gloria King
comes to Hollywood with the idea of
making good in the movies. She be
comes hardened by 'the life, and Is
foolish enough to marry Rolf Temple
ton, the great screen star, a man she
despises, but one -who can further her
career. Later she leaves him, and it Is
then that she makes good through tal
ent alone. By this time, however, she
has become spoiled, and plunges into
a life of false gayety. She is brought to
a realization of where she is drifting
when she runs over a little boy. Just
as she makes plans for regaining her
freedom, Rolf is seized with pneumonia.
The doctor sends for her and in his de
lirium Rolf tells her over and over that
he loves, her.—Now go on with the
story.
CHAPTER NXXXIH
Revelation
a S gently as she could, Gloria let. go oi.
AX Rolf’s hands. His hot fingers seemed
to cling to hers as though loath to
release her, and yet she knew that he was
entirely unaware of her presence at that mo
ment.
Fearful lest she make the slightest noise,
she rose from her seat by the bed. A mo
ment later she was walking down the cor
ridor to her own rooms. Everything was
just as she had left it. It seemed almost as
jf she had never been away, and yet what a
difference there was in her own heart. Sho
had left in a tempest of anger and resent
ment, she had returned to find the con'*'
queror humbled and very ill. As for herself
she had changed. Something in her heart
had melted, and as she closed the door soft
ly behind her, a sob rose in her throat.
In that moment she did not know why she
was crying, but with a rush the tears came.
She flung herself on her knees by the side of
the bed. She dug her fingers into the lace
of the bedspread and sobbed convulsively as
the tempest of emotion shook her. It was
a luxury to cry, but after a time her sobs
died away and her tears stopped. It was
then that she began to think, to take stock
of herself.
The reaction of her feelings had been like
a flash of lightning. When she had entered
the house that evening, there had been no
lessening of her resentment, toward Rolf. She
had been afraid of the seriousness of his ill-/
ness, but that was all. It wasn’t until she
had looked down into Rolf’s face, and heard
his pitiful ravings, it wasn’t until he had
clung to her with his feverish hands, plead
ing with her to kiss him good-by, that her
resentment toward him had suddenly melted.
In its place had come a feeling of deep pity.
If he had been her child she could not have
felt more tender toward him, and now she
realized in the glaring white light of revela
tion, that for a long time she had purposely
nursed her injury against him, because she
had been afraid of her own misgivings. JJe
had taken a deeper hold on her imagination
than she had dreamed. That was why she
had resented any reminder of him, even her
Persian cat Ginger she had wanted to hate,
because Rolf had given him to her.
As she probed more deeply into her heart,
the last vestige of her callousness vanished
and pride humbled to the dust, shd admitted
the truth. She loved him! She must havo
loved him for a long time, for she knew her
self well enough to realize that she could not
change hate into love in a moment. She loved
him! That was why she had lashed him with
her fury when he seized her in his arms the
night of the Manning’s dinner. It was be
cause she had been afraid of admitting the
truth to herself, because she had been de
termined to keep the thought relegated to her
subconscious mind.
What a fool she had been to judge him so
harshly, and how lacking in good sportsman
ship had been her entire attitude. She had
purposely remembered only the things he had
done to hurt her, refusing to admit that, in
spite of everything, she cared.
It was characteristic of Gloria that, having
faced the truth, she went down into the
depths. She suffered as It is only possible to
suffer when one is blessed with a tempera
ment like hers.
“Who was I to judge him so severely?” she
said over and over to herself. “Selfish, con
ceited little prig that I am, I wonder that he
ever saw anything in mo to admire. Rut love
doesn’t judge, it accepts. I love him in spite
of what he is, now that it is too late.”
In her heart she was convinced that he
would not live. She believed he would die
because she deserved that he should. Even
tonight when she had leaned over him and
listened to his labored breathing, and the
constant rattle In his lungs, she had felt that
each breath might be his last.
• Saturday—“ The Fight Goes On.’’—uWiewJ
roiir .subscription now to avoid missing el
chapter. w
MY FAVORITE STORIES
By Irving S. Cobb
Colonel Starbuck, of Virginia, was about
,to deliver his first after-dinner speech. He
; was distinguished in many regards—for one,
his ability to drink his whisky straight was
a thing more than locally famous—but he
lacked experience and. as he feared, facility
in the art of putting his points over when
speaking on his feet before an audience.
After he had prepared the manuscript of his
remarks and had memorized them, he be
thought him of the use of a claque.
So he rang the bell for his body servant
—a venerable person answering to the name
of Jim, whose chief function in life was to
serve his employer with liquor.
“Jim,” said the. master, “I’ve got to de
liver a talk tomorrow night before the State
Historical society and I’m a bit nervous
over the prospect. Now, I want to make
sure that my efforts will be properly re
ceived. That’s where you come in—you’ve
got a good strong voice and infectious laugh.
“I’m going to take you along with me to
the banquet hall. We’ll go early—before
the others begin to arrive, and I want you to
station yourself at the rear of the room, be
hind the window draperies, where you can
see me up at the guest table but where
you’ll be hidden from the rest of the gentle
men. When I am called on to speak you
will be ready for your cues.
“For instance, if I come to a pause and
nothing happens, I’ll just lift up my glass
of water as though I meant to take a sip,
and that will be a sign for you to start clap
ping your hands and shouting. Your exam
ple will be contagious, I figure—everybody
else will then burst into applause. Get the
notion?”
“Yas, suh,” said Jim.
“Good! But if, on the hand, I get off
a joke or tell a funny .story and they don’t
seem to get the point of it right away, 1
shall draw my hand across my forehead and
then you are to begin laughing at the top of
your voice. And the crowd will follow suit
—they can’t help it. Understand?”
“Kunnel,” said Jim, looks lak to me you
get dem signals twisted. You better ar
range ’em different. ’Cause, Kunnel, every
timo I sees you rpachir’ out for water to
drink tha's when I'm gjvine bust out laffin'!”
(Copyright, 192'1.)