Newspaper Page Text
THE GEORGIANS MAGAZINE, PAGE
“The Gates of Silence”
By Meta Simtnins, Author of “Hushed Up"
TODAY’S INSTALLMENT.
The remembrance of the time-limit
from the day of condemnation had
to him as he lay there, not by
jXmbrance of the words spoken to him
his warders, but subconsciously
.sroueh words written in the very heart’s
Hood of a man who had sinned and
suffered:
T he man in red who reads the Law
Cave him three weeks of life,
Three little weeks i» which to heal
His soul of his soul’s strife.
\nd all through .the night the words
haunted him, those words and others
, ha . told, In burning language, what lay
n store for him when the three leaden
had dragged their slow length
along.
The moment of awakening had come
a H too soon, and lying there—"as one
sees most fearful things in the crystal
of a dream”—he saw “the greasy hempen
rOP e hooked to a blackened beam.”
Three weeks to And at the end
murderer's fate and the murderer’s
•■shroud of flame." At that thought
Rimington had turned his face to the
"tor three weeks he must live, watched
day and night—eat, drink, exercise, that
he might keep himself fit and well
against the day of his death. The re
volting. ghastly barbarism of it all!
\way in the blue-and-white bed room
in the house by the river at Weybourne,
under the picture of the Good Shepherd
of which she had told him—which, in
deed, he had seen ten years ago when
they had played together boy and girl—
what was Betty thinking of—Betty, whom
he had last seen in the arms of Paul
Saxe? Did she know of this awful for
malism, that to Rimington, as he thought
of it, seemed in its precise cold-blooded
ness more dreadful, more cruel, than
those old rough-and-ready methods of
execution the world now execrates? Had
• .-he read and remembered something of
these methods, or did her woman’s im
agination compass something more awful
still?
Three weeks to live, and after that the
gallows! Oh, the ignominy of it! The
awful, bitter shamel Remembering the
stricken old man and woman, his uncle
and aunt, In the Red House. In its tan
gled, neglected garden by the river, Rim
ington felt the perspiration break out In
beads on h'ls brow. First Toby and now
himself!
It was not for nothing that Betty
Lumsden, on that first joyous day of
her wooing, bad felt the shadow of the
man lying dead in his grave, thousands
of miles across the sea, fall coldly across
her sunlit path in those Thames sid£
woods.
Thoughts too poignant, too soul-searing
and sacred to be set down; thoughts of
bitterness and revenge: thoughts also of
those things that are as high above these
ignoble passions as the heavens are
above the earth —the mind of the man
lying with his face to the wall had been
a battlefield where a thousand conflict
ing emotions warred together. Never had
any sound in life seemed so welcome to
him as the clamor of the prison bell,
breaking at last the Intolerable stillness
that seemed to have lasted an enternity.
Something to do, occupation for the
body to help to stem that awful advanc
ing tide of thought. Rimington even
forced himeelf to eat something of the
breakfast provided for him, and found a
certain solace, as a woman .might have
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done, in the tea which had been allowed
him. Luxuries for the condemned man—
in the three weeks of life that were left
to him, he would fare sumptuously in
comparison with the other men hemmed
in by prison walls, who see the face of
the sky only through a lattice of iron
bars.
In Brixton, while waiting his trial. Rftn
ington had disliked nothing more than the
daily chapel. Not because he was irrelig
ious, but simply because there, more than
in any other place or in pursuit of any
other occupation, it seemed to him the’
whole awful degradation was more clearly,
more bitterly brought home to heart and
mind.
The rows of convicts in their garb of
varying hideousness, every evil character
istic of facial shape and expression thrown
into strong relief by their shaven faces and
shorn heads; the attendant warders, who
naturally made no pretense of devotion or
attention; the ugly blasphemies of the
prisoners, made under cover of the sing
Ing; the ribald conversations carried on
under shelter of the responses—the
whole ugly formalism of it all had sick
ened him. It was no one s fault—not the
fault of the chaplain, who could not force
his office on any man without his own de
sire; not the fault of the officials, least of
all the fault of liturgy, curtailed and mu
tilated though It was—merely the result
of brutalized men herded together in a
ghastly wilderness of silence, making use
of the only outlet for speech that they
possessed.
But this morning it was very different
—this morning that was the ante-chamber
to the day of death! Like a man in a
dream Rimington marched to the chapel;
like a man in a dream, thinking nothing
of how his presence there, a man set
apart, added horror to those who shared
in the service with him. for these living,
fettered men who saw before them, in his
solitary state, the man who was to swing
in three weeks time. For Rimington
there was new life in the words the chap
lain read in his cultured voice that sound
ed so strangely thin and rarefied in con
trast to the robust, coarse volume of the
prisoners’ voices. The prayers passed
him like smoke; his own desire rosW up,
formless and vaporous, mingling with
them.
FAMILIAR WORDS.
Familiar words sounded in his ear. stir
ring long-dead memories in his heart.
“Lord. Thou hast been our refuge from
one generation to another. . . . When
Thou art angry all our days are gone: we
bring our years to an end, as it were a
tale that is told.”
Memories stirring in his heart of the
doomed man as he listens —memories of
a little gray church in Suffolk village, of a
green churchyard within sound of the sea
—memories that crystallize suddenly, over
whelmingly, into a knowledge of where
last he consciously heard those words—by
the side of an open grave in that green
Goffs Acre where they are burying a
woman, his mother, while he himself, a
weeping, miserable boy of nine, sees all
his world crumo.iiig in the clay they are
casting on the coffin.
The voice of the chaplain continues,
and the rough voices of the prisoners
respond; but the man In the place of
state, with his own attendant warder,
sees nothing of the words in the great
black type at which he is staring. He
has remembered now that this is one
of the Psalms from the Order for the
Burial of the Dead, and he is asking
himself will it be that which will be
read over him when he stands pinioned
with the white cap over his eyes above
the awful pit of death.
Continued Tomorrow.
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By MARGARET HUBBARD
AYER.
ONCE upon a time there was a
girl who thought she was too
tall, and it worried her a great
deal.
When she was about thirteen she
began to sprout just like Alice tn Won
derland, after she had eaten of the
growing side of the mushroom, and
she grew, and grew, and grew until
she thought there was nobody in the
whole world who was so tall as she was
or who possessed such very long legs
and Wrms and such long hands and feet.
She asked her best friends if there
wasn't something that would keep her
from growing any taller, and she was
quite sure she was going to be a
giant or monstrosity of some kind.
Her family made such fun of her
height that she became horribly self
conscious, and when I first knew her
she was just about as awkward as any
girl could be, for nothing will make
you as gawky as the ridicule of your
own family.
"You are certainly the human giraffe,"
jeered her elder brother, and at danc
ing school she was called the animated
grasshopper. Naturally she didn't im
prove any, under this kindly admoni
tion, but grew more awkward and un
gainly day by day. and in the secrecy
of her own room she shed bitter tears
of mortification over her size and gen
eral length of limb.
I think. she would have developed
into one of the angular, thin and gawky
girls we see so many of, if a kindly
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NASHVILLE HOUSTOX JA< KSONVILLF.
The Making of a Pretty Girl &
No. 4. —A Cure for Scratvniness
old aunt had not taken her in hand.
This dear old lady- was a natural en
eourager, and instead of telling the
lanky girl how awkward she was, and
how ridiculous she looked when she
stooped in trying to hide her height, she
praised her, telling her what a splendid
thing it was to be tall and strong, and
how proud, the girl should be of her
size. It took a long time before the
girl learned to stand up straight, in
stead of crouching In a vain effort to
look small and much patience and per
severance was expended in training her
to use her arms and hands naturally
and gracefully.
This girl was also much too thin, and
she seemed to be all angles and elbows.
She had never had a good appetite and
she had generally indulged in the wrong
kind of food for one of her build. Now
she was encouraged to take a glass of
milk between- meals in the morning, in
the afternoon and before going to bed.
She are plenty of cereals and all the
starchy, sweet vegetables, such as po
tatoes. peas, <orn and beans, as well as
salads, and rich fruits like bananas.
Cream soups, macaroni and spaghetti,
puddings and other substantial foods
formed part of her daily bill of fare,
and this regimen, with the encouraging
flattery of the old aunt, soon hogan to
turn the angles into curves. Besides
that, after her daily bath, which was
in warm water and not cold, she was
told to rub herself with oil, a pure olive
oil scented with lemon verbena, having
been prepared for her and kept in a
cool place.
Like a!' tall, thin girls, this onp need
ed plenty of rest end eight hours sleep,
with an extra nap in the in ddle of the
day. soon made a gieoj ibange in her
personal appe nance. Her morning cof
fee was’ taken away from her and even
tea was denied, bu r instead of that
j 'enty of chocolate vas supplied. For
sweets she ate latcs ana figs, especially
the former, instead of candy.
Where there is no chronic trouble,
the girl who is .>!' co thin, nine times
out of ten. can tract- much of her physi
cal ailment to a worrying disposition.
You can worry yourself thin even
quicker than getting thin by diet or
drugs. The thin girl is usually over
conscientious and overenergetic, and
naturally she can not acquire flesh as
long as she is overdoing physically.
I am dwelling on the thin girl’s trou
bles because usually the very tall girl
is the very thin one, and the tall girl
will never become really graceful until
she adds to her weight or begins to
think of herself not as a skinny hat
rack of bones, but as a generously pad
ded and well proportioned person.
Physical grace is not acquired by
any rules out of books, but by a study
of the art of beauty and motion in
Do You Know—
The Derby was first run In 1780; the
Oaks in 1779.
Pins were first manufactured by ma
chinery in England in 1824.
In Scotland, during the month of
■Tune, over 100,000 poor persons were in
receipt of relief.
other people, in art, and especially in
those graceful persons whom we see
on the stage, and who personify -ell that
is beautiful and gracious.
The awkward, thin girl can not do
better than to take as a model some
woman whose physique is the ideal of
her own slim figure. The actress has
studied the art of motion and knows
how tn make the best of The
length of limb which worries the awk
ward girl is an added beauty when It
is mastered and dominated by grace.
One of these ideals is personified in
the statuesque person of Miss Catherine
Kaelred, whose beautiful arms and
hands are the despair of her imitators.
The grace with which she moves them
is a study in itself. She is a very tall
and regal woman and her arms are long
and her hands have long, slender fin-
These
Photo
graphs
Show
Miss
Catherine
Kaelred
in Two
Beautiful
Poses.
gers. For many years Miss Kaelred
practiced this exercise, which is one
of the very best for limbering the wrist
and arm:
“Hold the arm out from the shoulder,
the hand stretched out. placing the gn
gers on an imaginary bar, raise the
wrist without moving the fingers; now
lower the wrist, still keeping the fin
gers on the same spot. At first it is
well to place the fingers on a firm
base, a shelf or even the back of a
high chair will do. In raising the wrist
raise it as if from the shoulder, and
lower it the same way. Don't the
wrist from the elbow. Raise rhe wrist
with a long, undulating movement, al
most a snake-like movement.”
Some of Miss Kaelred's rules are
worth remembering by the tall girl:
"Never try to look shorter than you
are. Be proud of your height.
“Don't forget that a large woman
must be stately and slow of motion.
“Cultivate repose.”
SOME WORKING
GIRLS LOSE TOO
MUCH TIME
Two Girls Tell How To
Avoid It.
There is nothing that teaches more
than experience. W therefore quote
from the letters of two girls who suf
fered and were restored to health. The
same remedy is within reach of all.
Brooklyn, N. Y. “Prior to taking
the first bottle of Lydia E. Pinkham’s
Vegetable Compound I suffered agony
every month, but after your wonderful
medicine had been taken a while I felt a
little better, and after taking seven bot
tles of it I feel that I can truly say I
have no more pain or inconvenience.
“As I am out in the business world as
a stenographer, I come in contact with
many girls, and when the opportune mo
ment arrives I tell them about the Veg
etable Compound and I know that quite
a few are taking it”—HELEN Canet,
556 Dean St.
Another Girl’s Experience.
Tishomingo, Okla, —“1 am a stenog
rapher and book-keeper, and Lydia E.
4w
I will gladly answer her letter and tell
her what Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable
Compound has done forme.” —Mrs.
Mattie Copenhaver, Tishamingo, Okla.
Pinkham's Vegeta
ble Compound has
saved my life. lam
enjoying the best of
health now, but I was
suffering from fe
male troubles and
painful periods,
and would have
backache, headache
and fainting spells.
If any woman would
like to write to me
A Foolish Thing to Do
By Beatrice Fairfax
IT often happens that a girl who is
said }o have a' will of her own, so
far as her family is concerned, has
none so far as concerns her young man.
Her parents find hes as unmovable as
a rock wall. The young man. though
he be of too sligUt acquaintance to be
called a friend, and makes no preten
sions of being a lover, finds her as easy
to mould as so much wax.
This is both unfortunate and danger
ous. Her parents exert their influence
for her good. The young man doesn’t
always. Their influence is benignant
Yet, jfirlj who know this will follow
blindly where a man beckons, and re
fuse to go where their parents prayer
fully guide.
I greatly fear the writer of the fol
lowing letter is a gitl whose young
man finds she is easily influenced:
"I am a girl of eighteen." she writes,
"and made the acquaintance a month
ago of a young man the same age. He
has taken me to several places of
amusement, and on one of these occa
sions he took my ring. When he took
me home that evening I demanded my
ring, and he refused to give it to me.
He told me if he ever lost me as ills
girl 1 certainly would not lose my ring.
1 have asked him many times, and he
refuses to give it back.”
Cupid, attired as a policeman, is not
a familiar or lovable picture, but there
are cases where Cupid should drop his
bow and arrow and take on a police
man’s club. This is one of them.
Every few weeks I get a wail of woe
from some girl who has given her
young man her ring, or her watch, or
some other trinket dear to her, which
he refuses to return.
Her father, or her brother, could
compel him to return what he has
taken, but her pride forbids the admis
sion that she was foolish enough to let
him have it.
Such a girl has such a will of her
own in her own home that none of the
family dares so much as borrow a little
bit of he: finery, or use any trifle that
is her personal possession.
But a young man comes along. Per
haps, as in this instance, she has known
him only a month. Wh: n he asks for
the ring on her finger, she lets him
carry it off.
wT \
sFjgj, ANTY \ \\\
T/jy DRUDGE \ /WO IU
M 3
Un 4 villi I
Anty Drudge Joins the Union.
Miss Highbrow- — (visiting the Teamsters’ Union)- —“So
you have made my friend, Anty Drudge, an Honor
ary Member. And why, may I ask ?”
Honest Mike — “Well, you sea, it’s this way, mam: I drive
a coal wagon, and Gerry over there drives for a
wholesale butcher. We get terribly, dirty—l all
sooty and Gerry all grease and stains. It’s the same
with all the boys. Anty Drudge told us about
Fels-Naptha—how it dissolves live grime and grease;
and you only use lukewarm or cool water. Saves
money and makes our wives happy.”
“Wear” is nothing but “rubbing.”
Every time you hard rub your clothes
against anything, little particles are
rubbed away.
Boiling softens the fibre of cotton,
linen, silk and wool, and when rubbed
hard on the washboard they wear away
faster than at any other time.
Try to think how many days of wear
are represented by one trip to the old
time wash tub.
Fels-Naptha requires neither boiling
water nor hard rubbing.
And there is no wash board wear on
the clothes washed the Fels-Naptha way.
Fels-Naptha is made to do away with
boiling and hard rubbing; therefore if
you use it as an ordinary soap, you cause
yourself unnecessary work.
Use Fels-Naptha in cool or luke
warm water and it will do all we claim.
It will cut the washday in half, sum
mer or winter, and do silently and effec
tively all the real hard work.
If you follow the simple direction®
on the red and green wrapper, you will
never return to ordinary soaps and the
way of washing.
If he cared for hjr he wouldn’t mak«
such a silly request. If she cared for
herself, she wouldn’t grant it. If she
had a little of the will in his presence
that she has in her family relations, it
would save her many a humiliation.
This lending of jewelry Is a bad
practice among girls. It is infinitely
worse when among girls and young
men. The girl gains nothing by grant
ing such a request, and she stands to
lose more than her jewelry, which in
itself may be trifling.
She stands to lose her self-respect.
She Is letting the young man know that
his influence over her is greater than
her good sense.
She is giving every hostage to love;
he is giving none.
When the right kind of a man comes
wooing all he asfts the girl to give is
her heart.
He adopts no highwayman methods
If his love demands a little keepsake,
he asks for a flower she has worn.
He never says, “Give me your jew
elry, and if I ever lose you as my girl
I'll give it back to you."
Such an unmanly declaration should
make any girl know that the best thing
that can happen to her is to be lost as
his girl. Being the sweetheart of a
man so lacking in all the little tender
gallantries of love does not spell happi
ness.
So I beg of all my girls when a man
does as this little girl’s young man has
done, that they tell a big brother, or a
father. It is not enough to wait till
this highwayman in the court of love
acts of his own pleasure. ‘ ,
That may' be never.
Up-to-Date Jokes
Englishman—Do you know of any
thing a man' can do in order to live a
hundred years?
Irishman—Certainly. He’s only to
keep on breathing.
The barber (after the shave)—Hair
dyed, sir?
Customer (bald-headed) Yes, it died
about five years ago.
