Newspaper Page Text
■THE GEORGIAN’S MAGAZINE PAGE
“The Gates of Silence”
A STORY OF LOVE, MYSTERY AND HATE, WITH A THRILLING POR
TRAYAL OF LIFE EIEHIND PRISON BARS.
TODAY S INSTALLMENT.
■* was in the nature of a grievance to
'airs. Ames that her lodger had not. as
bp had stated his intention of doing, va
cated his rooms some ten days back. His
, Plans had been changed suddenly, and he
had become “that mopey,” as she said to
Ames in the privacy of the basement, that
for “all that up till then this talk ad
bin of the good luck as was a-comin’ to
I ’lm, it’s my belief that the young chap’s
bin losin' money—on that there horse
racin’, and as like as not we’ll stand to
lose our rent.”
All these thoughts seemed epitomized in
the look she cast at Rimington as she
"Yes, it seems too bad to have been
*orced to lose so much glorious river
weather.” Rimington said; “but 1 shall
be going down to Weybourne this after
noon.”
He was thankful for the shrill summons
from the bowels of the basement that
cut short the landlady’s voluble expres
sions of gratification and hurried her
e w a y.
Certainly it was no desire that had
kept him mewed up in London. Business
called him most insistently to Westport—
business that it was not possible to con
duct adequately over the telephone. It al
most seemed as though all his rosy hopes
In the matter of the explosive might be
doomed to disappointment; but he had
simnly not dared to leave London while
Kdmond Levasseur. Fate's catpaw, lay
under the shadow of the rope. He seemed
f bound by a horrible fascination to remain
tn watch the changing dance of shadows
wind their way about the maze of mys
tery surrounding the house in Tempest
Btreet
The Spell Broken.
But now the call of duty had broken
the spell that held him. His uncle was
HI, dying perhaps. Mrs. Rimington’s mes
sage ran. and they both needed him. So
today he would go back to the old Red
House by the river, which he had not
visited since the day he had asked Betty
Lumsden to he his wife. And there he
'would be at least near to the girl he
loved the girl who saw ip him now only
the* boy; comrade of ten years before
He had a curious superstitious feeling
that it was by the very direct interven
tion of Fate that he was going back to
"" rvbourne today.
Day and night he had been fighting his
desire to go down and see Betty again;
to go down, not because he loved her. not
because she was sore stricken and needed
his love and help more than ever now:
no- Heaven help him I- not because of
that, but because of the dread, that had
been growing vampire-like in his heart,
that somewhere in one of those brain cells
over which this terrible veil of childish
forgetfulness had crept in a night, like
the white veiling mists from the sea.
there lay knowledge that could save a
man, who. whatever his sins, was at least
• Innocent of murder, from the gallows.
If only Betty could speak! If only the
\pll could he lifted! The wheels of the
> train, running through the scorched coun
< try, beat out these sentences like a bur
den and a refrain. If only Betty could
speak.
His aunt met him at the white gate of
the garden, a little white wicket gate,
half-bidden beneath a mass of overhang
ing greenery and flowering shrubs.
The rank vegetation of a riverside over
grew the footpath. His progress from the
station had been, through a miniature
jungle. It was like finding one's way to
the entrance of the palace of the Sleep
ing Beauty, he told the pale little lady
who offered her cheek to him in greeting.
“You are fantastic, .Jack." Her voice
was as colorless as her face, and yet
managed to convey reproof. “I am aware
how sadly the garden is neglected; but,
in the present state and condition of your
uncle’s income, it Is not possible for us
to keep things as one would wish they
should be kept. 1 regret that reproach
should come from you."
• “Reproach! Aunt Deb!" .lack's voice
was full of honest distress. “Indeed, you
mustn't think that 1 was complaining, for
• J simply love the place. 1 wouldn't have
it altered in the smallest particular. It
1s as dear to me as it Is to you you know’
that well enough.”
The little lady smiled primly as he put
his arm through hers, hut he was never
thoroughly at ease under her smiles.
They seemed so aloof —to be directed by
some unspoken thought, not always to
the credit of her companion.
He felt something of the same feeling
when she thanked him for responding to
her appeal to visit his uncle.
A Dreaded Meeting.
‘ Your uncle w ill bp glad to know you
are in the house.”
That was all but it was said in such a
tone that Rimington felt he would have
preferred reproach for his unwonted ab
pencp
His aunt's manner quickened his dread
of the coming interview with his uncle—
always a difficult old man. and in the sick
room well nigh unbearable Rut today lie
found him less acrid and bitter than usual;
David Rimington had been chastened by
two days and two wakeful nights of pain.
‘You've come.” he said. “Well, one
.must be obliged. I suppose.” His thin lips
curved a little. “<»ne must be obliged,
since youth is not what it was; youth
knows nothing of the obligations of duty.
And now, having appeared and paid your
to the tiresome old folk, you'll
be wanting to rm h <»ut and visit our neigh
bors at the Croft? Well, go: perhaps you
rpay prove a more welcome visitor there
» than sometimes you have done There
are odd rumors about the folk there; and
in these past days I have dreamed dreams
about proud George Lumsden and his
beautiful daughter Pride goes before a
FRECKLES
Don't Hide Them With a Veil; Remove
Them With the New Drug.
An eminent skin specialist recently
discovered a new drug, othlne—double
strength—which is so uniformly suc
cessful in removing freckles and giv
ing a clear, beautiful complexion that
it is sold by Jacobs' Pharmacy under
an absolute guarantee to refund the
money if it fails.
Don't hide your freckles under a veil;
get an ounce of othlne and remove
them. Even the first night's use will
show a wonderful improvement. some
iof the lighter freckles vanishing en
tirely. It is absolutely harinle.-s, and
can not injure the most tender skin
Be sure to ask Jacobs' Pharmacy for
the double strength othlne; il is this
that is sold on the money back guaran
tee.
fall: and h’s a trite saying, hut a true one
John. God resistetli the proud and giveth
grace to the humble. I who speak to you
should know that."
There was a curious proud humility in
his words that gave something almost of
fensive to their tone. He said no more,
lack Rimington, with a strange sinking of
the heart, stod for a moment or two at the
foot of the great carved bed. looking ai
the shrunken face that lay yellow against
the snow of the pillow.
“What do you mean, uncle?” he asked
at last.
But David Rimington’s eyes did not un
close. He appeared to have fallen asleep.
Jack would have liked to have put
some question to Mrs. Rimington as to the
meaning of his uncle's strange words, but
she had never appeared so unapproachable
for the most part, during the dinner that
was served with a solemn state in the
beautiful paneled dining room, whose win
dows looked on to the garden and the
stretch of the river, she was silent. Her
few’ words were entirely of the past—of a
season she had spent as a girl in Viepna—
of the gay, light wickedness of the city,
that even now had left its glamor of fas
cinated horror over her mind.
A Strange Vision.
After dinner, when she went to her
room, Rimington made his es
cape. He felt like a prisoner released as
he sauntered through the dewy garden
and out on to the path by the river.
The night was very quiet. Although
It was nearly 9 o’clock. It was twilight
still—a shimmering, gray light, star-pow
dered, hung over the river that reflected
it like a winding ribbon of glass. From
the ascending woods on the bank beyond
there came at intervals the faint cheep
cheep of a night bird. and. save for that
sound, the world seemed given up to him
self alone. He stood still, looking down
at the slow-moving water, held fast in
the grip of so gray a misery that he
turned from the contemplation of the
river with a sort of shrinking horror.
As he turned he saw the flutter of a
white dress along the footpath at some
distance ahead of him. Perhaps it was
the association of Ideas; he had so often
seen the flutter of Betty’s dress among
the trees at this very spot and followed
It as a signal. But he seemed now to
know beyond doubt that this moving fig
ure was Betty. She walked swiftly and
yet uncertainly, pausing now and again
hesitatingly, as though she sought for
something by the water, for some thing or
some place.
For a moment Rimington’s heart stilled.
What did she seek? His mind was quick
to leap to the first morbid suggestion.
He dreaded some rash act contemplated,
and, hurrying, gained on her. As he
reached her he saw her stoop down, kneel
by the shelving bank of the river, and
plunge her hands and something they held
Into the gray water.
For a couple of seconds Rimington stood
motionless, w’atching Betty as she
crouched there by the edge of the water.
The girl was absorbed in herself and her
action; it was obvious that she did not so
much as thing of an observer. He could
see her in profile very distinctly, although
the gray light and the shifting shadows
gave a certain unreality, a look of mys
tery. to the slim, white-clad figure; he
could see the expression of her face, the
new look that had come to her with this
illness—a bewildered look like that of a
child who has strayed into a new. inex
plicable world.
What was spe doing? Just for a mo
ment he wondered if he had happened
on some action of self-revelation, and
even as he wondered the girl rose up from
her half-crouching position, and he saw’
the thing she held. Only a dripping hand
kerchief with which she feverishly rubbed
her hands, uttering a little moaning cry
as she did so. It was a thing too bitter
to be borne in silence, that cry. He made
a step forward.
"Betty!” he said.
She started at the sound of his voice
and turned quickly. He saw that her
face lit up at the sight of him not with
the love-light he had learned lately how
to surprise in her eyes, but a naive, child
ish pleasure.
“Why, Jack!” she cried. Then, as
though she remembered her dripping
hands and some secret connected with
the sodden handkerchief they held, a fur
tive look crept over her face like a cloud.
“What are you doing out here at this
rime, you bad boy?" she demanded. “It’s
ever so late, isn't it? I say!” she paused
and looked at him with the mimicry of
childishness that, if it had not been so
infinitely pathetic, would have been gro
tesque “You won’t tell "Edith you met
me Jjere, will you? She’s grown so tire
some lately—dreadfully mollycoddling”
A Suspicion.
it was all so unreal that for a moment
a suspicion that the girl was playing a
part gripped Rimington. It was gone in
a moment, leaving behind a sting of
shame that he could ever have enter
tained it.
“No, 1 won’t split on a pal But what
are yov up to?” he said coaxingly. Then,
as she shook her head with a frightened
look, he added, carelessly: “It s awfully
jolly out |here in this light. Isn't jt? The
river is like a mirror. I say, 1 guess what
you were doing. Betty! Looking at your
self in the water, like that silly individual
who fell in love with his own reflection—
what’s his name?"
He paused on the question. Betty gave
a child's frank laugh.
“Fell in love with his reflection what
a frightful idiot! I wasn't doing any
thing so silly—you will never guess what
I was doing.” Her voice sank and she
crept nearer to him. "Washing my
hands; they're so horribly stained, and I
can't get them clean, however hard I
try. I can’t! I can’t!” The childish pet
ulance in her voice deepened to a note of
tragedy. She looked down at her hands
and began again that feverish rubbing
with the sodden handkerchief she held.
Rimington slipped his arm around her
shoulder.
“Poor old girl!” he said, and wondered
that his voice could sound as ft did, care
less. half-contemptuous, like a boy's
voice, while all the time his lover’s heart
bled for this pass to which she had come.
“What’s the matter with your hands, any
way? They seem all right. Been trying
to dye Niinshi again?”
He held his breath as he waited for the
answer to the question that seemed to him
to have come by an inspiration, for the
episode to which it referred belonged not
to the chilish past in which they were
masquerading. but to that present from
which she had slipped, and concerned not
an action of their own. but (hat of a child
ish visitor to the t’roft who had been dis
covered endeavoring to dye Nimshi. the
white cot, green The defence had been
ingenious, being based on the grounds
that green as a protective color was an
improvement on Nature, aml would enable
the cat io stalk its prey among the un
dergrowth with a greater regr*p of seem
Ity. But it had n«»t sufficed »’o save the
culprit from chastisement at the hand • • f
Sir George. *?sliked little hoys arui
adored his <ar.
To Be Continwtd Tomorrow
i The Right Road to Health By Annette Kellermann
How Housework, Intelligently Done, Will Give You a Good Figure
gA Turn your
J” ' J housework into
WRmßbMi •" Hw-" intelligent, joyful
’ activity, says
Miss Kellermann,
Ijfß l ‘ and you will find
"■•■JMHU* 7 i » A that the exercise
• "Mw ' \ \ of it will help
Gt-JMMMHB! | V JO keep your figure
1 . 1 , shapely and add
wMBBMBbmI- , it t to your bank ac
\ t L w if conntoesides.
WMMi ir- taMsc •».' '
you want
ok miIIHKV ' ' "- ' 4 WwRI housework to do
y° u any good ' P ut
' '‘Vlak’ T/ more brain and
WHBffiW K ‘less sinew into it.
\? \ wWIS Housework is a
1 T fine exercise if
W - \"' *■ ' * y° U now h°w to
■X \ -T.'wßimi do it right
/ f H I I^3ve always
Vk 11 •T'T <i ■ 4 j ? X' done agi eat deal
'' : °f ’ l - an( f have
H f’X 7 ' beennoneth e
'Ah ? //j '• • MfbW worse.
l|W
I—. -y c
o
O
I AST Winter when I took an apart
ment in New York everybody
thought, of course. 1 was going
to have a maid. I have a theater maid,
naturally, but she has all she can
do to attend to my costumes, which,
while they may not seem to require
much attention, nevertheless take up
all of her time.
"No, indeed. I'm not going to have
a maid," I announced calmly. "I need
the extra exercise of housework."
There was a general ha-ha at my
expense, l>ut I knew what I was about.
Housework is fine exercise if you
know how to do it right, and I’ve al
ways done a good real of it. and been
none the worse for it.
First of all. of course, it depends
upon your house whether you are go
ing to enjoy your work, or find it bur
densome and unhealthy.
By house I mean apartment, or one
room in a lodging house, or a four
story dwelling, or whatever the place
is that you call home.
Costs a Lot.
Most of us fill our houses with use
less truck, for which we never have
any real need, and w hich usually costs
a lot of money in the beginning, ami
much more to keep clean
The Japanese seem to me to have
worked out the most perfect plan for
their homes. Everything they possess
is necessary, and every necessary thing
is beautiful, artistic and valuable, if
you will go over your home and elim
inate everything that you have no use
for, and everything that Is not beauti
ful, the daily care of what is left will
be excellent exercise for you. and !'
won't take you long to do It.
I like to do my own housework,
because I am exceedingly fussy about
having things perfectly dean, and I
hate dust.
Now. I have watched the ordinary
houseworker perform the daily chore
of dusting and I can't say that she
does it scientifically or successfully.
She is too much like the stage maid,
who is always laced into a very tight
fitting dress, with a little bit of a white
Keep the Complexion Beautiful.
Nadine Face Powde
Green flojrrj Only.)
Produce, a soft, velvety
' appearance so much ad
mired, and remains until
® washed off. Purified by
a new process. Will not
clog the pores. Harmless.
Prevents sunburn and
return of discolorations.
WHtrr.. flush,
■' FINK, nnuNFTTF..
By toilet counters or mail, 50c. Mone
back if nit entirely frleaied.
NAIIUNAL TOlUir COMPANY, ParU. Tarai
MISS ANNETTE KELLERMANN.
apron about the size of a doily and a
large lace cap, who goes up and down
the stage flirting a feather duster
around the legs of the gilt furniture,
while she sings a merry song without
looking at what she's doing.
Dust that is dislodged with a
feather duster simply goes and settles
somewhere else. Usually it settles in
your own lungs. A nice, healthy place,
isn't it? When I do my dusting every
window is wide open, my hair is tied
up tight in one of my favorite silk
handkerchiefs, and I dust with a
cloth, a damp rag or chamois, and
take the dust away to be washed out
of the rag.
A Stretching Exercise.
1 insist u{s>n having the picture
moldings wiped off. and when I do it
myself you can see this is the best
kind of reaching and stretching ex
ercise. Sweeping is good exercise,
but as it raises so much dust I pre
fer the vacuum method of cleaning,
and there are so many different kinds
of thees cleaners now that most fam
ilies could afford to have them, espe
cially if they got together, two or
three families clubbing In and buying
a good cleaner.
I never go at try housework except
in the loosest and most comfortable
clothing, and I am very particular to
have comfortable —qol high heeled
slippers, but soft, low shoes, with a
very modest heel, which I keep for
this special purpose.
Half the time the woman who does
her housework is not properly dressed
for her work. She can not combine
comfort and something at least half
Way pretty in appearance. Manx- wom
en look upon a groat big apron as a
sign of bondage or social inferiority.
I think. That’s why we see so many
dirty blouses and soiled kimonos. The
one-piece dress is a blessing, as Tt al
ways looks Hdy. and the big apron is
a complete protection, like the work
man's blouse which English workmen
wear, but of which 1 don't see very
rqany in America.
I don't mind scrubbing, and if you do
it with a will it is the same as many
of the standard exercises for shoulders,
back and waist muscles. There Is no
reason why one should only scrub with
the right hand, you coultf easily get
accustomed to alternating with the left
hand. This makes the development of
the muscles more equal.
A Martyr to Dust.
One of the reasons why housework Is
looked upon as such a bugbear is that
women have never taken the trouble to
systematize their work and to get the
most out of It for themselves. The
average woman who does housework
either for her own family or for some
one else looks upon herself as a sort
of martyr, and she really is a martyr,
too. A martyr to dust, dirt, discomfort;
to complete lack of system, and the
thought that would save her so many
steps and so much time.
She would rather save every piece of
dust-gathering bric-a-brac than to dis
card it and give the time she used to
spend in keeping the bric-a-brac clean
!<■ some more entertaining or more up
'ifting form of work. When she does
her housework she goes at it disliking
ihe w ork; the dull routine of it has
lung ago deadened any possibility in
—— —a
Jr o
o yr o
her mind that it might contain ele
ments of interest nr of physical de
velopment.
1 believe we are coming to a time
when housework will be so intelli
gently organized and so well done that
no one will dare look down upon it
as an inferior trade. It takes a lot of
intelligence, a lot of thought, to keep
your house in perfect order, keep it
clean and well regulated, and to do
this yourself, with a minimum ex
penditure of nervous vitality and
physical strength.
I have been LelllQg you all along, in
writing about my rules for health,
that all the exercise in the world is
not going to help you unless you put
your mind on the work you are doing
and the benefits to be derived.
It’s the same way In housework. If
you want housework to do you any
good, put more brain and less sinew
into it. Every day you will find some
problem to solve that will tax your In
genuity and stimulate your thinking
machine.
Housework tires most women be
cause they hate it. The same physical
motion performed in a gymnasium
and called physical culture will be
considered fun. Turn your housework
Into intelligent joyful activity and
you will find that the exercise of it
w ill help keep your figure shapely and
add to your bank account besides.
Gray Hair is
Not Compoßsory
It is almost pahetki when a woman's
hair begins to fade and she realizes that
it is turning gray, and yet there is no
one to blame but herself for neglecting
it, for the hair responds very quickly to
the proper care and treatment. The
hair turns gray because It has lost vi
tality, and w'hen you puli out the first
few white hairs as they appear you
simply enlarge the cells and coarsen
your hair, and It will turn gray more
quickly than if left alone.
For many years we have handled all
of thf good hair prepa r ations and we
believe there is nothing better to be had
anywhere than out Roblnnslre Hair
Dye. It is not the ordinary vulgar
bleach or artificial coloring. We should
have named it a Restorative, because it
simply restores your hair to Its own
original color and beautiful, healthy
condition, and there is no reason why
you should hesitate to us* it if your
hair is fading and losing its color.
It is our own laboratory product and
we guarantee It to be pure and harm
less. It has been in use for over a quar
ter of a century, and we have yet to
receive the firs* complaint, but we can
show you hundreds of letters, unsolic
ited. telling of the wonderful results
obtained from It
No woman need have gray hair unde
slred, if she will give a little time and
care to its treatment. The hair always
responds quickly Roblnnnire Hair Dve
is easily Applied, and ft Is non-sticky
and do»s not stain either skin or scalp.
If you want to see what It will do, get a
25c trial sir* and use It on a small
part of your hair, say back of the
ears. You will be surprised and pleased
with It Regular large size. 75c. Sent
postpaid. Jacoba' Pharmacy, Atlanta.
Daysey May me and Her Folks
By FRANCES L. GARSIDE.
THE imperturbable dignity of
Chauncey Devere Appleton, age
nine, as chairman at the recent
session of the Childrens congress, has
re«ulted in his election as Judge of the
juvenile court.
A position heavy with responsibility,
for before him come many questions
concerning the Rights of Childhood.
Parents need governing, and the man
ner of procedure, the measures, etc.,
are all questions gravely settled by
Judge Chauncey Devere Appleton. age
nine.
The first case reported today came
from the Havering family. The baby of
three refused to eat her oatmeal, and
when her mother begged her to eat it,
always remembering to say ‘Please,”
the child pushed the oatmeal off the
table.
Father, mother and child appeared
before the juvenile court: the child as
plaintiff in a suit for damages to her
feelings, and the parents as defend
ants. They are «tiling to salve the
damaged carpet in an effort to compro
mise, but the child refuses.
A baby in a family of such promi
nence that the name is suppressed on
request, smashed seven cut glass tum
blers. and when the remaining five were
put out of its reach, it made an appeal
to the juvenile court.
"Father," says one little girl in a
UaiMctf!
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Dr. E. G. Griffin’s
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WOOM.BY * HOW. V*. UA Victor Sutitarima. AMenU. flte.
GEORGIAN WANT A DS BRING RESULTS.
lengthy appeal, ‘‘doesn’t love me. He
refuses to let me smear molasses candy
on his Sunday clothes.”
At least twenty children have signed
a complaint asking their tnnthort. W»
appear and explain why milk is poured
down a child’s throat when it cries be
cause it is cold.
It was also decided that the model
man Isn't one of immaculate neatness.
The model man is one whose clothes
are greasy and sticky with children’s
finger marks, with half his buttons off
for use in bean shooters, and his tie
gone to put around the neck of the dog.
Such a man, wearing a placard, is a
model man in the decision of the juve
nile court.
But on the placard must be printed
these words: "I am a Friend of Little
Children, and Believe in lotting the
Dear Little Ones Have a Good Time
with Me."
One boy, who has appeared often as a
plaintiff, his parents being particularly
insubordinate, expressed the wish in
court recently that there were giants in
these days, "so they could come along
and whip father."
“Young man," rebuked Judge Chaun
cey Devere Appleton very sternly,
“there ARE giants in these days, and
grown-up people get whipped harder
and oftener than the children. You
need not worry about Father; Father
catches It all right!"