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THE TRI-WEEKLY JOURNAL
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LITTLE MISS FIXIT,
Care Tri-Weekly Journal,
Atlanta, Georgia.
A BIBLE THOUGHT FOR TODAY
There was a little city, and few men
within it; and there came a great king
against it, and besieged it, and built great
bulwarks against it. Now there was found
in it a poor wise man, and he by his wis
dom delivered the city; yet no man re
membered that same poor man. Then said
I, wisdom is better than strength; never
theless the poor man's wisdom is despised,
and his words are not heard. Wisdom is
better than weapons of war.—Ecclesias
tes 9:14-18.
The So wers
j-N the death of Ferdinand Von Lochow,
j German j r has lost her greatest agricul
turist He lived and died in the little,
town of Petkus, whose name he gave to his
major achievement —Petkus rye, -which, it
is said, revolutionized German grain culture.
The yield of this variety of rye on the thin
sandy German soil is so superior to earlier
varieties that eighty per cent of the rye
acreage in Germany is now planted with it.
The world knows of this man only through
a few paragraphs. He planted Ger
many in rye, and kept the poor alive. Os
the Kaiser a thousand volumes have been
written and today his every movement is
noted and every sentence quoted. He
planted Germany with dead men’s bones
and burdened their widows and orphans
with half a century of debt.
Atlanta s and Georgia s Part
In the Southern Exposition
DOES Georgia need to participate in the
Southern Exposition which is to be
held next January in New York City,
with the certainty of attracting visitors from
all regions of America? And should Atlanta
take a leading part in that important enter
prise?
We have seen nothing byway of answer
more cogent than these lines in a recent let
ter to Mr. B. S. Barker, secretary of the At
lanta Chamber of Commerce, from an offi
cial of the Merchants and Manufacturers’
Exchange, of New York: “I sent, this morn
ing, to. the consolidated offices of all the
railroads to get some descriptive literature
about Georgia, but there was none to be had.
There was plenty about Florida. New York
ers know very little about Georgia’s manu
factures or its agricultural development,
outside of cotton.” Upwards of six million
persons reside in Greater New York, while
some two hundred and fifty thousand visit
ors from every corner of the continent and
from distant shores are daily thronging its
streets. Surely, it behooves the South's Em
pire State, with products to sell and with re
sources to develop, to seize an opportunity
of making them better known to these mul
titudes!
Such an opportunity, and one of rarest
worth, is afforded by the Southern Exposi
tion, to be staged in the nation’s metropolis.
Through that novel and sagacious enterprise
the South, instead of inviting the world to
come hither and see, will go herself to the
greatest world-market of America and there
set forth in highly appealing exhibits Hie
resources that enrich and the achievements
that distinguish her. Regrettable as it Is that
the Legislature of Georgia did not emulate
those of neighbor commonwealths in provid
ing funds for a State exhibit, that very iact
becomes an especial challenge to the patriot
ism of our people. The deficiency must be
and will be made up by private interest and
public spirit. Where the Carolinas and Flor
ida and Alabama and Tennessee and all the
rest of Dixie are to be represented in un
stinted measure, Georgit can not afford to be
conspicuous by her absence.
The cities of the State are rallying to the
opportunity and the need with a patriotism
ly and cheerfuly 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 TRIWEEKLY JOURNAL
«s wise as it is true. Columbus, we are told,'
has reserved one thousand square feet of the
seven thousand allotted to Georgia in the
exposition building. Macon and Albany have
taken liberal areas. Savannah stands pledg
ed to her full part. Others are moving into
line. What will Atlanta do? Her business
leaders will see to it, we doubt not, that she
all which may be expected of the capital
of the commonwealth and the metropolis of
the southeast. But the demand is urgent,
and the time is short. Let the Chamber of
Commerce be given prompt and liberal sup
port in its efforts in this admirable under
taking.
Ten Years Os the Canal
THE tenth anniversary of the opening
of the Panama canal to world traffic
has found the great waterway, which
visionless men were wont to call a “dream,”
more serviceable than even its ardent build
ers thought it would become in so brief a
time. Every hour brings a ship to its
gates Flags of all seafaring nations flutter
above its tides—British, Norwegian, Danish,
Dutch, Swedish, French, Italian, German,
Spanish, Chilian, Peruvian, Japanese. Its
revenue for the decade has been approxi
mately one hundred million dollars, while
its annual income from tolls now suffices
both for its upkeep and for interest on the
investment. At the present rate of iraffic
growth, say the authorities, the canal will
have to be enlarged greatly by 1950. And
this was the enterprise to which folk with
out Imagination opposed their blind “impos
sibles.” Faith Is the world’s master builder.
The usefulness of the Panama canal both
to the United States and to other nations
appears in the commerce it has developed.
In the fiscal year 1919 it afforded passage
to two thousand and twenty-four ocean
going vessels, and in the fiscal year 1923 to
three thousand, nine hundred and sixty
seven such vessels. Still more remarkable,
the volume of merchandise thus transported
increased during that period from six mil
lion, nine hundred and sixteen thousand
cargo tons to nineteen million, five hundred
and sixty-seven thousand. Except for the
canal, much of this commerce would not
have been; certainly hundreds of vessels
that found transit from ocean to ocean by
forty placid miles would never have ven
tured the weary leagues to Cape Horn and
the perilous waters of Magellan.
Between our own Atlantic and Pacific
shores the canal has created new and ex
ceedingly Important lines of water-borne
trade; and for our navy has reduced to a
few hours a voyage that formerly consumed
weeks. For steamers New York has been
brought nearer to San Francisco by some
eight thousand miles, and Liverpool nearer
to the chief port of Peru by a fortnight.
From New York to Yokohama the saving in
distance is thirty-seven hundred miles; to
Shanghai more than sixteen hundred, and to
Sydney, Australia, three thousand, eight
hundred miles. Moreover, Yokohama is
brought eighteen hundred miles nearer to
New York than to Liverpool, and Sydney,
twenty-three hundred nearer to New York
than to Liverpool.
Looking back over these first ten years
of the canal’s wondrous service and for
ward to its still greater probabilities, we
marvel anew at glory and the power for
which the world has to thank its thinkers,
its darers, its minds of courage and of
imagination.
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 JT JO OUR
.ATLANTA OFFICE.
Q. Do elephants breed in captivity?
L. A.
A. The National Zoological park says
that elephants do breed in captivity. In
fact, Princess Alice (an elephant in the
City park at Salt Lake City) gave birth- to
a baby elephant in 1918. Within recent
years several elephants have been born in
Copenhagen, Denmark. The period of ges
tation is twenty-two months.
Q. Has Princeton university always been
so-called? J. P. H.
A. When chartered in 1746 this school
was known as the College of New Jersey, and
was located at Elizabethtown. It was moved
to Princeton in 1756, but it was not until
October 22, 1896, that the corporate title
was changed to Princeton university.
Q. How many Irishmen fought for Eng
land in the World war? E. T.
A. A total of 275.592 Irishmen from Ire
land served in the British army and navy,
according to the Irish National bureau. This
was 6.5 per cent of Ireland’s total popula
tion.
Q. What are the requirements for jury
service? M. M. S.
A. To serve on a grand jury a man must
be twenty-one years of age but under sixty
five, must be able to read, write, and under
stand English, must be citizen of the United
States and a resident of the county within
which the jury is to act. and must not have
been convicted of any crime involving moral
turpitude.
Q. From what part of the tree is figured
walnut made? 1. H.
A. In the average tree the only place
where a decided figure is found is in the
stump. Figured walnut is also made from
large growths, known as burls, which may
be found occasionally on the trees. All
these pieces of wood are used as veneers.
Q. Is it true that a rattlesnake’s rattles
are noiseless when wet? N. V.
A. The Biological Survey says that the
idea that a rattlesnake can not rattle when
its rattles are wet from swimming, or being
in wet grass or rain storms, is incorrect.
Q. In how many states must the Bible
be read in the public schools? V. B. S.
A. Seven states provide by law for Bible
reading in the public schools. There are 11
states which prohibit Bible reading in the
schools, while in 30 states the Bible may
be read in the schools.
The Second Mrs. Strong
BY HAZEL DEYO BACHELOR
What has gone before—Matthew
Strong, feeling that his seventeen-year
old daughter Claudia is strongly under
the influence of the gay younger set,
decides to marry again. He is attracted
toward Margaret Davenport until her
behavior at a dinner party disgusts
ni! • . Now go on with the story.
CHAPTER 111
Julie Benton
/ HE morning following Claudia’s esca
i pade. Matthew sat in his office going
through his morning’s mail. His sec
retary, Julie Benton, sat close beside him,
her stenographic pad open on her knee, her
pencil poised ready for dictation. Occasion
ally as Matthew dictated, he glanced with
sharp scrutiny at the girl’s face. He was
trying to determine what manner of woman
she was. He wondered what went on in her
head, and what manner of life she lived.
Matthew realized that she spoke very sel
dom. If he had but known it, her reserve
was due to’ the fact that she was distrustful
of herself. She was a girl who longed pas
sionately for better things, a girl who for
years had hated her life passionately and yet
who knew no way of rising above it.
Fate had not been kind to her. Her long
ing for a high school education had been
nothing but an impossible dream, and at
fourteen, she had entered a business college,
the expenses for the course being defrayed
by her older brother, Tom.
Tom was not altruistic. He cared noth
ing for the blind gropings of Julie’s soul.
But he was practical, and he knew that with
Julie contributing her wages toward the sup
port of the family, there would not be such
a heavy demand upon his own pocketbook.
So lie had advanced the money, and when
Julie was not quite sixteen, she had taken
her first position as stenographer and type
writer. Now she was twenty-two, and dur
ing those six years, she had held three posi
tions. lor the last two years she had been
with the firm es Bulkly & Strong in Wall
Street, but even though she made ?30 a
week, she was bound to her family so that
thing for herself.
very little of her salary went toward any-
The Bentons lived in Flatbush, in an
impossibly ugly frame house. It was one
of a row of similar houses built close, against
one another, and the street in summer rang
with the shouts and cries of children, and
in the winter was a treacherous place of
melting snow and ice.
Julie had never known privacy. She
shared a room with her vounger sister
Ellen, and just as she had never known
what it might be like to enjoy the luxury
of sleeping alone, so had she become used
to the endless borrowing of her clothes.
E en helped herself to whatever she liked,
and so did Martha, who had just turned fif
teen Martha was still in school. Julie
wanted her to become a teacher, hut Martha
was lazy and was not at all sure that she
wanted to work that hard. Ellen was a
telephone operator, and Martha was serious
ly contemplating leaving school and striking
out for herself.
Julie was different from the other girls
Her innate fineness was perhaps an inheri
tance from some ancestor who had also
dreamed dreams and had visions. There
was something dainty about her. something
well-bred in the shape of her head, and
the small delicately formed ears. She had
Ir ’s? Ki ye l’ Yery dark blue ’ around
with black, straight lashes, and her moiun
wide, but well formed, displayed small, per
fect teeth.
“Too good for the rest of us,” her mother
would sneer when she saw Julie wince at
the messy, disorderly table, and the sloppv
greasy food. “You’d like your dinner on
a tray, I suppose, with a rose folded up in
the napkin like the swells.”
But when Julie turned her grave eyes
upon her mother, Mrs. Benlon would look
away. It was as though she had suddenly
become conscious of her unspeakably dirty
wrapper, and the untidy wisps of.hair strag
gling down over her moist forehead
Matthew had finished his dictation and
was sitting back in his chair. Julie was
aboiif. to rise and leave the room, when
yielding to impulse, he stopped her.
“Miss Benton?”
Yes, Mr. Strong.” Her blue eyes were
on his face, and he was suddenly struck
with the level gravity of her gaze.- He. was
embarrassed for a moment, uncertain as to
what he wanted to say. Julie did not help
him. She had no idea that his interest in
her had suddenly become personal.”
CHAPTER TV
An Invitation
( i you have dinner with me tb'is
\ y evening?” And even as he asked
the question, Matthew was struck
with the ridiculousness of it. Certainly it
would seem so tq this girl who stood be
fore him. What would she think? Would
she leap to the conclusion that he was try
ing to start a flirtation? Mould she look
upon it in the light of the usual relation
ship existing between the man of affairs
and his employe? It would be strange if
she didn’t.
“You want me to have dinner with you?”
Into Julie’s cheeks had crept a faint pink
color, but she did not simper or try to ap
pear coy.
Matthew found himself enormously re
lieved.
“I d like to have a talk with you,” he
went on quickly. “Os course, this must
seem absurd to you, hut I assure you.
Miss Benton, I'm quite sincere. I have no
ulterior motive in mind.”
Strange words for him to be saying, and,
after all. wasn’t he taking a chance? Sup
pose this girl misunderstood him and re
peated his invitation to other members of
the office force. What would they say.
what would they think? And yet some
how he could not believe that this girl
would do such a thing. There was some
thing about her. something different, and
now she was smiling a little, and her blue
eyes twinkled with humor.
”1 r like that very much.” Her voice was
not quite steady. Inwardly she was excited,
her heart was beating fast. She did not un
derstand why Mr. Strong was asking her to
dine with him. but there was something about
the way he had put his invitation that robbed
her of any fear as to his motive. Furthermore,
she liked him. she respected him. From the
first he had been kind to her. and there was
no reason why she should suspect him now.
■ Just the same, after she had left the office and
was back at her own desk, she began to be
oppressed with faint misgivings.
He had asked her to meet him at the Hotel
Maranac. She. who had never been inside one
of the large hotels, was to have dinner there
with her employer, a mao nf culture and breed
ing, who knew many women in his own world.
She was suddenly appalled at the situation.
She was afraid, afraid of her ignorance of the
fact that she might not know what to do. And
why did he want to talk with her? There was
something mysterious about it all. and in spite
of her longing to go. she began to wish vaguely
; that she had never accepted.
That noon Julie ate a sandwich and drank
a glass of milk at a nearby drug store. After
: ward she took the subway up-town, and forced
herself to enter the .lobby of the Hotel Mara
nac. Something told her that if she accus
tomed herself somewhat to what was entirely
, strange and unusual, she might not be go
GENERAL TOOMBS AND HIS DEVOTION
TO HIS WIFE
IT WAS my good fortune, to get well ac
quainted with General Robert Toombs in
his later years, and I read the late edi
rial in The Daily Journal with much interest,
which told of his affectionate letter to his
wife before her death, and of its lover-like
devotion. The last time I ever saw this dis
tinguished Georgian his health had been fail
ing seriously. We called to see him at the
Kimball House, in Atlanta, and found him
resting on his bed —an invalid. With chivalric
courtesy he insisted that we should go to the
parlor, and during our stay I sat beside him
on a sofa and listened to his story of the grief
his wife’s death had afflicted him. His mind
was concerned with those memories and I was
a little alarmed to hear him say “She is near
me, constantly.” “Would you be surprised if
I should tell you I feel her presence here, at
this time?”
In a short time thereafter he passed away.
We were in 'Washington City when he ad
dressed the Supreme Court in a law case about
1878 or 1879, and I saw him quite often with
Hon. Alex Stephens, who had rooms in the
old National Hotel. General Toombs was with
his old friend very often, and except one mis
understanding, which grew out of a misdi
rected letter, which should have gone, to Wash
ington, Ga., but was detained as a dead letter
in Washington, D. C„ these old-time friends
THE ATTIC OF THE BRAIN—By John Carlyle
IS there an attic in your house? And is 1
it messed up with old furniture?
Are there dust-covered \chairs with
broken legs? Is that an ancient trunk over
there half full of things that you have for
gotten why you are keeping?
They are no good. They never will be.
Here is three-Guarters of a bed and yon
der are two pictureless frames. Just here is
a mirror which you can look through but
which doesn't reflect.
Well —that's an attic, a garret, a limbo.
B.ut it is not the only attic. It is not the
only limbo.
There is in so many of us an attic of the
mind. It’s a bad place. It has no excuse for
being.
Into it we stuff broken ambitions, out
went ideals, mean thoughts which we ought |
to destroy utterly, but which we cling to and I
thrust into the attic. I
KISSING I
By Dr. Frank Crane
zqr\ HERE are all sorts and degrees of
kisses from the life-giving kiss of
Cupid and Psyche to the death-sealing
kiss of Judas. But of all kisses the kiss of
a man and a woman, equally smitten with
the languorous disease of love, is the ideal:
which to my knowledge has been nowhere
indicated in words more artfully than In
Tennyson's Fatima:
“O love! O fire! once he drew
With one long kiss my whole soul through
My lips, as sunlight drinketh dew.”
It is the soul rising to the lips that makes
a kiss a full sacrament; that is an outward
act expressing a spiritual reality.
The mouth is the exit portal of thought,
the lips coin these sounds that embody the
creations of the brain, so it is but natural
that the meeting of lips is the perfect sym
bol of unity. To lovers all the words pos
sible to be said melt into the mute substance
of a kiss.
To one who feels this the custom of in
discriminate kissing is not agreeable. “Nor,”
says Montaigne (Florio's translation), “do
we men gain much by it; for the world is
divided into four parts, so for four faice
ones we must kiss five foule; and to a nice
and tender stomack, as are those of mine
age, one ill kisse doth surpay one good.”
It would be interesting to find a complete
history of kissing, combined with a discrimi
nating classification of the various species
and geni of kisses, all by some learned au
thor who might be old enough not to be
suspected and still young enough to know
what he was talking about.
For a kiss has as many meanings and con
nections as a word, and each kiss has its
accent and pronunciation, so to speak. If
the performance is hurried, a mere brushing
of the lips, it says something quite different
from that touch where there is a little loath
ing to part.
There are races, as the Japanese, where
kissing is not the custom and certain negro
tribes rub noses in sign of amity; and there
are rational nuisances who would like to set
back our civilization to this mark; but I can
conceive of no tyranny more odious than
that of physicians; by all means let us live
antiseptically, but I hope never to see the
day when our fear of microbes will be
stronger than our courage to kiss the lips
that ask.
There is the paternal kiss, upon the fore
| head: and the French family-kiss on one
cheek and then on the other; the courtly
I kiss upon the hand; and the farewell kiss
blown from the finger-tips; the kiss upon
1 the Bible in oath-taking; and the kiss upon
the dust of the ground, among slaves, but all
these are but pretty suburbs around the
main citadel, which is the kiss of love.
There are infidels and scoffers in the court
of kissing; Pooh and Pah, Bosh and Oof, are
stubborn Voltaires, Tom Paines, and Inger
solls -who have their following; there are Pu
ritans who regard osculation as a form of
sin, and prudes who look upon it, or at least
look upon mentioning it, as somewhat in
decent;. but the great commonalty of the
human family consider kissing to be one of
the most interesting exercises, as fascinating
as it is dangerous, one of those little acts
that hang like a scarlet flower right on the
j edge of the cliff between the Elysian Fields
and the Bottomless Pit; everybody likes kiss
ing except the usual protesting minority, and
even they like to talk about it.
(Copyright, 1924.)
overwhelmed that evening, and although she
was not at all certain herself, intuition told
her to behave as though she had come there
to meet some one.
At first she could hardly see for the blur
before her eyes, but when after a few minutes
the pounding of her heart subsided, she walk
ed deliberately to one of the chairs in the
famous Flamingo Alley, and sat down. No
one seemed to notice her particularly. Each
was intent upon his or her own business, and
Julie sat there for fifteen minutes, studying
the crowd, the dresses, furs, hats and wraps
of the women. Many of these women were
dressed quite simply, but with a charm that
was unmistakable, a charm that she herself
lacked. It struck her suddenly that she would
have to come here tonight with Mr. Strong,
in the same clothes she wore each day to the
office, her old tweed suit and the black hat
she had worn two winters. Panic seized her.
She couldn't do it! And yet, dimly she realized
that she must nerve herself to go through
with it. This was her first chance to talk
with a man of breeding, and she must make
the most of it.
Saturday—" The Enterinc Wedge” anti
. “The Unexpected Happens.”
THE COUNTRY HOME
BY MRS. W. H. FELTON
THURSDAY, SEl’TU.ff
were always in accord from early manhood
until death made a. separation. General
Toombs was always the center of every group
when he was present. Mr. Stephens once told
me that General Toombs in his prime was
the most impressive figure he ever saw, at
home, or in the national capital. “He was
as handsome as a picture,” said “Uncle Aleck.”
1 made an address in Washington, Ga., in a
meeting called a “Farmers’ Institute,” which
meetings Hon. Harvie Jordan conducted in
many Georgia, towns—maybe twenty years ago.
Before the time set for my departure I went to
the cemetery and stood by the tomb of the
great Georgian, also of his wife that he loved
so dearly. It will be remembered that a long
time elapsed after the Cival War was over be
fore General Toombs had his “disabilities” re
moved by Federal action. Perhaps he never
did perform in such manner until the General
Amnesty Bill was carried through -the National
Congress. His integrity as a political leader
was never questioned, as I now recollect, and
when he made a stump speech he fairly blis
tered his opponents.
There was never any dodging, no compro
mises—he struck from the shoulder —and with
out any ap-ologies. Like all of mortal kind he
had some weaknesses, but he was exactly and
emphatically a politician who spoke his con
victions without fear or favor in any cam
paign. I wonder what he would say if he
could came back to us and could discuss the
present condition of Georgia politics.
Into the garret of the mind we put ideas
and schemes and sordid aspirations that we
know are unworthy. But we are not quite
strong ennugli to cast them out forever.
So the attic of the mind clogs up and be
comes a mean and dusty place.
It is a healthy thing for our minds and our
souls to keep everlastingly eliminating the
old furniture of the head and heart.
Instead of thrusting them into the dust
hole, check off and throw out every un
worthy thing. Check them off for life.
Leave no garrets for unhappy rummagers.
Memory is a wondrous servant, but you
can keep the memory-servant at work upon
tasks that are not worth while.
To be able to forget things that are un
worthy is a great and good art. It smooths
the path. It adds sweetness to life.
(Copyright, 1924.)
[ HOW
By Dr. Frank Crane
COULD you enjoy your dinner at one of
of our beautiful hotels if, instead of
gleaming nappery, soft-footed servants,
subdued lights, and fairy music, you saw out
of the window a woman looking through the
garbage can for refuse meat, or heard th)
whimper of a baby dying for want of milk?
Os course not. And the reason you do
enjoy your lobster Newburg and smoke your
monogrammed cigarette in contentment is
not that the above-mentioned woman and
child do not exist, but merely that you can
not see nor hear them.
I
You are not hard-hearted. You are kind.
Tears spring to your eyes at Ihe recital of
suffering. This is an age of pity, and no
class has more heart than the sports and the
furred and jeweled ladies who live in ex
travagance.
The trouble is—distance. You don’t know
where the poor are. If you started to find
them you would be devoured by crafty ras
cals who are experts in abusing sympathy.
All you can do is to give a check to some
charitable institution occasionally. This has
' its bad side. It prevents you from getting
the real benefit of a generous action, which
benefit consists in personal contact and in
terest. The poor need you more than your
money. And you need them.
And here, it seems to me, is the opportuni
ty of the newspaper. It reaches all classes.
' The rich read it in the luxurious club, and
the poor read it by the kitchen stove.
j The newspaper brings buyer and seller to
, gether; why should it not bring the fortunate
‘ and the unfortunate, the strong and the
weak, the well-to-do and the hungry to-
I gether?
Well, suppose the newspaper announced:
“We have the addresses of a hundred chil
dren who need clothes, a hundred babies who
■ can get no wholesome nourishment, a hun
i dred girls who are facing starvation, a hun
dred mothers too weak to work, and a hun
dred men who are in actual distress and are
worthy to be helped. Anybody with a kind
I heart who wants to help a little may send
*! us his or her name and we will put *him or
her into communication with one who will
; appreciate aid. All these cases are vouched
for by responsible charitable organizations;
we receive no applications at this office.”
All this is suggested by a true story heard
the other day. Several men were lunching
at a Broadway hotel. One of them was a
I man acquainted with submerged humanity.
During the meal he said:
“Isn’t it odd that we can enjoy our porter
house steak here, while there are babies In
this city that are starving to death because
they can get no milk?”
, Then one of the company, just a man
who is known as “a good sport,” spoke up
and said: “You give me the name of one
baby like that and I’ll send it a quart of
milk every day for a year.”
And every other man at the table said:
, “Me, too.”
We do care. We are not cruel. But we
are very busy. Besides, w.e are confused by
I the complexities of our social system. We
are ignorant. And we are not a little lazy
and selfish.
But if some one could show us exactly
and clearly how to reach out our hand and
help there are precious few of us who would
notydo it.
If you knew positively there was one hu
man being, at such and such a street and
number, you could relieve from pain of body
or anguish of mind, wouldn't you be glad
to do it?
And why is not the newspaper the natural
means by which the warm hand of the “good
fellow” can be put into the hand of the hu
man being who has stumbled?
All this without clap-trap and advertising
of names.
P. S. —There is that which Is better than
helping your fellow creatures because you
are a Christian, or a Jew, or a Mason, or any
such thing; it is to help them because you
are human.
For it is better to he human than to be
long to the holiest and most exclusive broth
erhood.
(Copyright, 1 924.)
Flying boats are being used to sight
herring off the northeast coast of Eng
land.
Berlin's young men of fashion are now
having their clothes cut in the latest Eng
lish style.
England has no mountains high enough
to be perpetually covered with snow.
Women comprise the majority of all work
i ers In the textile industry In England.
MOVIE MAD
BY HAZEL DEYO BACHELOR
CHAPTER Lil
Gloria Pays a Call
VIVYAN’S impetuous words had more ef
fect. upon Gloria than either girl real
ized at the time. They set Gloria to
thinking, and the more she thought the more
eager she became, to see Rolf and Vera to
gether. After all, why not? It would do
no harm to drop in casually upon them. S-he
would play her cards very carefully, she
would be gay and flippant. Rolf need never
suspect the truth.
She was amazed as this nlan took shape
in her mind, to find herself trembling. Her
heart began to beat very fast and her cheeks
burned. Was it because she was to see Rolf
again? Was that it? Oh. what a pitiful
little fool she had become; like a schoolgirl
in love for the first time. “Just like the
women who write him love-letters on pink
paper,” she told herself fiercely. “I, of all
people, have sunk to this.”
I Nevertheless, it was a very calm, self-pos
i sessed young woman who, two days later,
: strolled casually into the sun parlor of the
■big white house on Mansion boulevard. No
. one would have dreamed that her heart was
1 leaping madly in her breast, and that her
hands were icy, no one in the world, and
I least of all Vera Vamp.
Vera sat in a big chair close beside Rolf’s
chaise lounge. She was reading out loud
from the love poems of Laurence Hope, and
as she looked up from her book her dark
eyes widened and a look of fury darted
into them.
“I hope I am not intruding,” Gloria said
lightly. She had seen that look in
eyes, and it had stimulated her. Could it ”
be that Vera was not so sure of herself?
The thought was delicious, intoxicating.
Rolf’s back was turned to the door, and
as Gloria walked around his chair and stood
looking down at him, he threw aside the
steamer rug and would have risen to his
feet if she had not put her hand lightly on
his arm.
“You mustn’t get up. Here, let me fix
that for you.” And carefully avoiding his
I eyes, she drew the rug into place. She
wondered if he could hear the hammering
of her heart, as she bent over him, for his
! low-toned “Gloria —you!” had stirred her
, pulses and made her afraid to trust her
I Voice.
Somehow she found herself sitting in a
| chair facing him. She could hear herself
, saying things, light flippant things that
meant nothing. She was being nice to Vera,
Irritatingly nice. And all the while she was
terribly conscious of Rolf’s dark eyes blaz
ing in his face, his hungry scanning of her
features, his attempts to make her look at
him, which she steadfastly refused to do.
“Oh, thank God,” ran her thoughts. “He
does love me. He couldn’t look at me like
that unless he cared.”
And still she went on being light, saying
frivolous things, answering Vera’s small
stabs with ingratiating friendliness, treating
Rolf as if he were the most casual acquain
tance, and behaving generally as though sha
found it impossible to be serious about any
thing. She wondered vaguely if Vera would
stay on, so that there would be no chance
for her to see Rolf alone. And as this
thought occurred to her she was suddenly
afraid of being alone with him. What if
. she had counted too much on what she had
read in his eyes. And yet she couldn’t he
mistaken. His whole manner betrayed him,
and not only that, but Vera’s very spiteful
ness was an unconscious tribute.
I And so the little drama between the three
of them went on until at tea-time people
began to arrive and the tension was, for the
time being, somewhat relieved
*
Saturday— “A Dramatic Lravctakbic.**
This story ends next Tuesday. Renew now
io avoid missing the conclusion.
MY FAVORITE STORIES
By Irving S. Cobb
i This story first became popular, I believe
iin the old local option days. It is quite as
applicable, though, now that prohibition ig
a nation-wide proposition, as it was when
th ® v ® rious states and counties contended
with the drink problem Aach in its own way.
According io the earlier version, a green
horn landed in a dry town out west and set
forth to find the wherewithal for the curing
of a great thirst. After he had made the
i painful discovery that it was impossible to
obtain red liquor unless the buyer was
known personally to the venders, he, having
I no acquaintance in the community, besought
I a compassionate-looking citizen to give him
aid. The native advised him to consult a
I physician professionally.
I he suppliant invaded the nearest doctor's
! office.
began, with no delaying pre
amble, “I’d like to get prescription for a bot
tle of whisky.”
Can’t serve you, my friend, unless, you ■«
need the stuff,” stated the medico. “To do 1
otherwise would be against the law.” • jl
“Well, don’t I look like I need It?”
“That may be, but according to tha
statutes 1 can only minister to your health,
not to your appetite. Now, for instance, if
you had just been bitten by a poisonous
snake say a rattlesnake—l could help you
out because that would constitute an emer
gency—your life, so to speak, would be at
i stake. Have you ever been bitten by a rat
' tiesnake?”
i “No.”
Well, go and get bitten.”,
j “Where'll I go?”
“You'll find a snake right back of ths
; drug store across the street. A lot of my
patrons patronize him.”
lilled with hope, the tourist hurried ftway.
In half an hour he returned, shaking his
head despondently' and with grief written
large upon his face.
“No, use,” he moaned.
“What’s the matter?” inquired the phy
sician.
“Nothing’s the matter with me,” explained
the other, “but the snake is too derned tired
to bite a stranger.”
(Copyright, 1924.)
QUIPS AND QUIDDITIES' '
In an influential parish church It nad been'
found necessary to provide the minister with
an assistant. Some difficulty was evidently
experienced. Ultimately it appeared that a
suitable candidate had been found.
Following the Sunday on which he preach
ed, a woman member of the congregation
i met an office bearer, whom she proceeded to
congratulate on their having secured such a
likely young man as a prospective assistant.
, “Oh, well.” he said, “it’s just a of
( Hobson's choice.”
“Indeed,” was the reply, “but who is Hob
son ?”
Smith was taking his usual Sunday after- '
noon stroll with bis latest acquisition—a dog
that would certainly have taken no prizes.
One of Smith’s acquaintances met him. He
gazed meditatively at the canine at the end
of the leash.
“That’s a frightful-looking mongrel,” tr
said frankly.
“Sah,” said the owner warningly; ‘'don’t
let him hear you. He thinks he's a fox ter
’ rier.”