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THE OEO&aiAW’S MAGAZIHE' PAGiL € Blind as a Kitten § By Beatrice Fairfax I HAVE received the full..wing letter, and its perusal < .rises much re gret that men walk the earth who commit graver crimes than highway robbery, but who are beyond the clutches of the law "I nm fifteen years of age and I am in love with a gentleman of forty-one. sth whom 1 be. .itm- ;I <-- quainter! about nine weeks igo. My parents absolutely refuse to let him call on me, -o .Itely h. has been meeting me aft r r - hool. Last week he asked me to elope with him. as my parents would never consent to us being married. -H<- is a very nice man and has no bad habits. He says he loV'S me dearly, but I don't know what to do, as I am al most afraid to tell him 'No.' And yet I hate to deceive niy parents.” This little girl is passing through the same stage as the kitten. Horn with Its eyes shut, nine days i ipso befoit it opens them. Her nine days of life have not elapsed and I am much afraid that unless some ; Wind providence intervene- -| ; . will open them on a world of pain and sor row and disgrace. No man of forty-one loves a girl of fifteen in the right way if he encour ages ivr to oppose her parents, for bidden her home, he shows every mark of a villain in meeting her on the streets. He doesn't love her: he doesn't know what love is. I do not believe he has any intention of marrying her. If he has, it is through some hope of mate ria! gain. She Doesn't Know. With the girl as his wife, it would put his talonlike hands on her father's puree. He has "no bad habits," she says. Poor little traveler on a strange path! She doesn't know the worst of habits may bo hidden under the most beguiling of manners. With an innocence ami ignorance that are appalling, she is standing on the brink of a precipice, and how her little world will condemn her if she makes a misstep in her blindness, and goes over! "I am almost afraid to tell him 'No,' " she says, and therein lies a tragedy. She knows down in her heart that his 4LXJ Gb y anty L_ vCnjY iWSMZLji U \Jr J egj G/ww >fTivw 8 8 F Anty Drudge Discovers Why George Has No Appetite. Anty Drudge— “What’ eaing dinner in this steamy, smelly kitchen? I should think it would take your appetite away.” Mrs. Slow-—“I have noticed that George doesn't eat much on washdays.” Anty Drudge— “ How can he! Why don't you use FelsXaptha? Boiling water isn't necessary; and you'll he through your wash plenty of time to have dinner in tin' dining-room. Or if you prefer tho kitchen, there will be no steam or bad smells.'’ Talk about energy! A half cake of Fels-Naptha soap can display more energy in getting rid of dirt in half an hour than an able-bodied woman can in half a day. But there’s this difference: Much of the woman’s energy is wasted. When she rubs clothes hard on a washboard she wears out the clothes in trying to rub out the dirt. Fels-Naptha concentrates its energy on the dirt —dissolves it into tiny particles that are easily rinsed away —without harming the most delicate fabric. A id it does this in cool or lukewarm water, without hot water or boiling, sum mer or winter. Do you prefer to supply the dirt removing energy yourself or tw use that stored up in a cake of Fels-Naptha? If you choose the easier and better bway, follow directions on the red and green wrapper. attentions are not honorable. She has been weil brought up. and the warn ings () f her parents ire ringing in her ta rs whm site tltei ' s him. Hut he is older, and commands all the arguments and blandishm. ntß need ed to v. in ti e heart of a child. She is Haltered by his attention. She is soothid b\ his praise. She is drugged almost to the point of unconsciousness by the little triumph of conquest his preference gives her. '•ne's guardian angels seem to be oft en 1 . x in their attendance. and I am sore afraid the guardian angels of this little girl arc forgetting their charge at a time when their vigil should be most unceasing. If her mother knew the heart of the little girl letter, she would not issue a i command, and then rest secure, believ | Ing her command could not be dis obeyed. She would KNOW that the man who will make love to a girl twen ty-six years his junior after an ac- I 1 piaint.inee of nine weeks will not let a i mother's ay. nr no have any weight. Not Honorable. If he were honorable, it would be a different story. Hut the facts in the ease prove he is not. She would not pay "You must not" to her daughter, and then sit back and fold her hands. She would SEE that her orders are obeyed. She would know that the heart of a girl Is willful: that, beginning with the age of fifteen, girls begin to dream, and they mistake many mon for the hero of their dreams before the real hero appears. She .wouldn't expect a little blind kitten to hoed an order to stay away from the fire. She would remove ft from all proximity to the blaze. And she would take as final and decisive action in saving her daughter. Mothers often moan after the trage dy, "I did not dream she would disobey me.” If the mother of this misguided little girl reads this. 1 hope she will wake up. "Dreaming" of absolute obedience, and realizing willful disregard of com mands, arc often the tragic order of things. e When a mother faces the realization of the latter, with all its sad results, she is often more to blame than the little blind-kitten girl left in her charge. Freaks of, Fashion The Girl With the Monocle 1 By OLIVETTE. IF in passing by a jeweler’s window you happen to see a gold-rimmed monocle on a jewel studded velvet ribbon, don't think that it is the last whim of fashion for the modern beau. It is Intended for the belle. A few young women began affecting monocles last winter, and set the fash ion for a style that is startling, to say the least, but which, many followers. Makes Eyes Bigger. The wearing of a monocle is sup posed to make the eye bigger. If you wear your monocle for a long time, provided, of course, you can keep it in your eye, you will find that the eye looks larger and Is wider open than its fellow which does not support the mon ocle. The reason for this is because the effort to keep the monocle in place makes one stretch the muscles around the eye. and elevate the brow while keeping the eye open as wide as possi ble. People are too apt to get about with half closed Pyes, and many a pair of beautiful orbs lose their expression and brilliancy from the drooping, heavy folds of skin which fall over the upper eyelid. The monocle keeps this skin stretched, and It is a good eye exercise to wear one. While silver and gun metal are the popular mountings for the monocle, the eyeglass can be worn without a rim of any kind by the person who Is suffi ciently skillful in keeping It in place. The main thing about it is the ribbon, I which should be quite wide and of | grosgrain silk or velvet, ornamented [ at Intervals with small jeweled bars. | For those who object to a monocle, the t new lorgnettes are especially beautiful, and one need not have poor sight to indulge in them. Creates an Impression. A lorgnette creates an impression even if there is only window glass in the eyes. The early fall will see the introduc tion of a lot of mannish fashions in dress which will go exceedingly well with the single eyeglass. There is. for instance, a delightful little jacket taken from that of a Spanish bull fighter, a plain black velvet affair, cut off just above the waist, which has for its only trimming a single row of silver buttons. This little coat is worn over a plaited shirt of fine linen with a turn-down col lar of the same material and a stiff little cravat of black. A wide black satin sash is tied around the waist, the long fringed edges falling at the side. The velvet jacket goes with a skirt of cloth or satin, or one of the same ma terial. The Robespierre collar' is another of those fads which will probably be passed by the autumn. though tne vogue now is truly terrific. The high collar opens In front with a deep, point ed turnover, is made of velvet, satirfc.or lace, and frequently of all three mate rials. A great deal of attention is being paid to neckwear, and many a woman's frocks and coats are not as valuable as a single piece of lace or the combina tion of laces which she wears around her throat. A handsome autumn model lof black cloth has the skirt looped up at the back just below the knees, and a short train. The bodice is tight fitting, ■short walsted, with t he long tight sleeves, which will be fashioned for simple frocks. The entire front of the “The Gates of Silence” Dy Meta Sim mins, Author of "Hushed Up" TODAY'S INSTALLMENT. A Message. She spoke utterly outskie her rights Edith was qu|te aware of that: but she said nothing, and. carrying her bag, went out into tlie gray afternoon that made more gloomy still the gloomy Pimlico street. She had not proceeded far west ward before a man. whom she bad no ticed loitering on the opposite pavement, crosse.l the road and offered to carry her bag '1 thank you kindly. I'm sure. ’ The landlady, considerably huffed by her Betty's or on her father's charity. She thanked him civilly, but declined, and the man. as though satisfied by the sound of her voice, by his quick scrutiny of her veiled face, touched his cap and apoke again. “Mrs. Barrington," he said, and at her aulck and quite unmistakable start of recognition he added: "I have a message for you from your husband. Mrs. Barring ton. Will you be kind enough to take it?" He held a sealed envelope toward her as ho spoke, and. with fingers that trem bled so that she could scarcely hold the letter. Edith took it from him, opened It, and read it there. “If you care to come home —It Is still your home," Barrington wrote: and then : other words. In a shaken, scarcely recog ' nlzed hand: “Edith, for Heaven's sake, i come home! Our child Is dvlng!—Tony." Standing there in the street with the roar of London s traffic tn her cars, with the groat heart of London throbbing about her, Edith Barrington looked into t he eyes of Heath, and read in their cold depths a choice. Her child or the man In prison—to whom lay her chief duty? To Jack Rini fngton, the man she had trapped in her c war lice to his death, for w hom every minute meant the swift outrunning of the brief sands of his life or to the child to whom she had given birth? Which path must she choose—which? Even while she stood hesitating Edith Barrington knew that In reality there was no question of hesitation She must go to her child. She must go to her child, even .f it were not true —as It couldn't be true! -that Phil, her little Phil, was dying There was an impulse, s . 9RF Wk- WWIIWI / / Jo tSSSHw 1 fl bl fl 9 HHHK b o 118 ■B Hl MSB. ■ B3]EmKbm S_ * * flk I® / M j||B IT w KSt? A Style That Is Startling, To Say the Least. dress is of very fine white embroidered muslin shirred at tho belt, and gath ered in at the throat under a white lace bow. The belt is of black satin with a huge buckle of pale yellow amber. These enormous buckles in silver, gilt, semi-precious or artificial stones such as she had hover known before in all her wayward life, urging her back to tho house she had been such a fool to leave The gray vista of tho street came to het through a mist; her eyes were fixed eagerly on the face of the man who had given her the note. who. .without asking her permission, had already relieved her of her bag. bit she saw nothing of it. Her voice trembled when she spoke. "In this note Mr. Barrington speaks of -of illness in the house." she began, fal teringly, and the man answered quickly, saving her the agony of further question ing: "Vos: Master Philip is not well." Then, seeing the terror in her eyes, he added, soothingly: "But there is no cause for immediate anxiety, I believe. The seizure took place this morning." Edith's heart gave a great bound of re lief. She caught at the hopeful phrase, ignoring the word "seizure." with its ugly significance where a child is concerned, i>f course there was not —Phil was as strong as a lion and absolutely healthy. Tony was exaggerating, as he always did when the child was in question. Exag gerating! She repeated the word to her self. ami found comfort in it. What mat tered. most was that his first thought had been for her for his wife and Phil's mother. That was a good sign a blessed sign After all, perhaps, her flight had borne good fruit—Tony had missed her. "Shall I call a cab?" The man's voice recalled her thoughts; her mind was still a little clouded by those drug mists. She nodded, and, as though by prearrangement, a taxi loiter ing along the center of the street drew ; up at the curb. A moment later she was in the cab, her bag at her feet, leaning back against the cushions with a sense of ease to which she had been a stranger for many days She was going home home! Tony needed her—Tony and their child! She ran up the steps of the house In Princes Gate with the buoyancy of ex pectancy A maid, not the butler, opened the door and looked at her with glad eyes. “Oh, ma'am." she said, quickly, "you’ve i come In time. We dreaded that you ; might be too late." Mrs. Barrington started at her like a woman turned to stone. It was true, I ' then. "You expected me?” she said, stupidly, 1 are very much the vogue. In many of the new models the short waisted ef fect is retained by the bolero jacket, while the waist line is lower than it has been in seveial years, and marked with one of these buckles either in front or at the back. and could have bitton her tongue out after the words were uttered. She watched the servant's face. “Oh. ma'am"— Edith did not wait to hear the conclu sion of the sentence. At that moment the housekeeper crossed the hall, and she hurried to her. Mrs. Marlowe's eyes were red as with much weeping, and her hands trembled visibly as they rested on the banister for a moment. "Mrs. Marlowe—tell me -tell me every thing." Ed'th said, in a low. rapid voice. “Phil I —l—had a letter front my hus band—and the girl who opened the door"— Her face was as white as chalk, and her voice had grown husky and thin, like the voice of an old woman. Mrs. Marlowe took iter hand and led her into the library, which was empty. If she knew nothing definite of the rupture between husband and wife, she suspected something. There had been many whis perings and speculations 'among the serv ants during this month's absence. "The little master, ma'am? Yes, he’s 111. They—they're to know the worst to day. He caupht cold on the journey." "The journey? What journey? A cold? Oh, thank heaven —I thought It was—l thought—oh. I don't know what I thought." E<Vth gasped, fumbling with the fastenings of her coat, like a woman fainting for lack of air. The housekeeper went to her assistance with trembling hands. To Be Continued in Next Issue. Beautify the Complexion ®IN TEN DAYS Nadinola CREAM The Unequaled Beautifler USED AND ENDORSED BY THOUSANDS Guaranteed to remove tan, freckles, pimples, liver-spots, etc. Extreme cases twenty days. Rids pores and tissues of impurities. Leaves the skin clear, soft, healthy. Two sizes, 50c. and SI.OO. By toilet counters or mail. NATIONAL TOILET COMPANY, Paris. Tam, Daysey Mayme and Her Folks By Frances L. Garside THE TAX GIRL’S PAY, THE home of Lysander John Apple ton is conducted on the pay-as you-enter plan. Every evening when he reaches the door some one meets him with out stretched hand —no't to take his hand, but to take what is in it. Sometimes it is the butcher. Some times it is the baker. Occasionally it is the gas man, the modern substitute for the candlestick maker. But more often it is to meet some tax that other girls have put on Daysey Mayme. One of Daysey Mayme's friends an nounces her engagement. All her girl friends must come across with engage ment gifts, kitchen showers and wed ding gifts. When babies come, every baby must be remembered, and as the babies grow up they accumulate, with teeth and hair and wisdom and foolishness, a lot of anniversaries. Occasionally some friend's brother dies, and her girl friends must donate to a floral anchor, though a rake would be more apropriate. But it is always something, for girls pay a tax on friendship that is greater than.the tax Father pays on his land. "It seems to me," grumbled Lysander John the last time an assessment was made, "that you ought to bet some thing back for all this you pay." Daysey Mayme looked at him thoughtfully. His protest had put an idea in her head; an idea warm enough to make her hair curl. Superfluous Hair J)x3llirae(e Removes It Quickly With Certainty and Absolute Safety. The excellence of DeMiracle is too widely known to need comment. The specially interesting thing is that we sell this preparation at smartly reduced prices. Not for one day, but every day. Yau can buy it at our toilet goods department at OUR SPECIAL PRICES 1.00 bottle 79c 2.00 bottle 1.69 The best proof that DeMiracle is the standard depilatory of the world is that it has stood the test of time. It was the largest selling depilatory ten years ago. and more of it is sold today than the combined sales of the questionable depilatories. Chamberlin-Johnson-Dußose Co. Corner Whitehall and Hunter Sts. ATLANTA. GA, 16 Colorado Send the Children, and JCatch Them Grow The cities are merciless, hard and ugly—never meant for nurseries. It is the little ones’ misfortune that you can not turn them out in the sweet fields and under clean skies three seasons of the year. But now that school is over, and the stifling, dusty days and parboiled nights have come, you must give them a chance. They’re growing, they need ozone and romping room. Send them to Colorado and see them blossom into strength. You’ll be surprised how little it costs. Any way of going to Colorado is a good way, because it gets j'ou to Colorado. But the best road is the Rock Island and the superb trains of the Rock Island Lines supply the things you’ll expect to find and some comforting details of perfect service you’ll not expect. Through Sleeping Cars From the Southeast with drawing-rooms and big berths arc operated in connec tion with the Frisco Lines. The Colorado Flyer — every morning from St. Louis an^. ot Ju fast daily trains from St. Louis, Kansas City, Memphis, Chicaen w 1 and St. Joseph for Colorado, Yellowstone Park and the Pacific 0 .» Our free booklets " Under the Turquoise Sky" and ” Little Journeys in point the way to summer happiness. H. H. Hunt, Dittrict Paesenger Agent ■MMSWbI 1® Pryor Street Atlanta, Ga- Phone: Main 661 She would get something back! She would become engaged herself! But to whom? She ran over a ij #t of the young men she knew and dismissed all of them. Not one had as.-., financial rating that would cal; f or chests of silver and cut glass. They were all the kind for whose bride-elect her friends would select such gifts as huck towels. She would be a duchess! True, no dukes were lying around loose with whom she had speaking ac quaintance, and all the dukes she read about in the Sunday papers were mart, gaged to some girl, or foreclosed. She would invent a duke of her own' Which explains how it happened the next morning that Lysander John had the shock of his life. He had begun on his egg, after his usual morning gamble whether -he in terior was like soup or asphalt paving. “I won,” he chuckled to himself, when he cracked the shell and found macad am inside. Then he picked up the morning pa. per. A glaring headline on the front page over the picture of a fine looking man and Daysey Mayme caught his eye. "American Girl Won a Title. The Engagement Announced of Miss Dav. sey Mayme Appleton, Daughter of Kin Commissioner General Lysander John Appleton, to the Duke DeLa Cham pleaux.” Lysander John gasped. He shook the paper at his daughter in speechless be. wilderment. He stuttered. He glared. He tried to speak. He couldn't. Then he slid off his chair to the floor and knew no more.