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THE QEOBGIAWS MAGAZINE, PAGE ■ An Arrow Tipped With Gold By BEATRICE FAIRFAX. THERE is a legend to the effect that Cupid went storming to Vulcan one day because he had found his arrow useless. “It isn’t fit," he cried, “to let fly at * sparrow, and it is an age since it fairly went home to a heart." Vulcan took the arrow and. after , working with it a while, handed it back. The urchin shot out, and rare havoc he made. The wounded and dead were untold. But no wonder the rogue had such a slaughtering trade. For the arrow was tipped with gold. T AM a young man past 21," writes j a Philadelphia youth. "and about five months ago I became acquainted with a department store girl. It was love at first sight. Things ran rather smoothly until a month ago, when I received the following message: " 'Dear Harry—l can no longer con tinue our friendship, as in time you might take things seriously, and on your present salary It would be ab surd.’ , "I was then earning sl6 a week. Now. wasn't that enough to make one purple about the eyes? "Well, to make my story short, some time elapsed and I did not hear a word from her. Last week I received word that my uncle, who was a sheep owner in Patagonia. S. A., had died and left me SII,OOO. Wrote at Once. "Os course, the girl heard of this and sent me an invitation to call that same evening. I consulted my closest friends, but they shook their heads and an swered in the negative. I did not call. Now, was I right or wrong?” A' young man who makes the as tounding leap from an income of sl6 a week to an inheritance of SII,OOO has to ’ have a More level head than borne on most shoulders if he would avoid dan gerout entanglements, and not mistake the fase for the true. The girl was right in telling the young man frankly and honestly that she ouldn't think of marrying on sl6 I a we<k. and thought the intimacy had betteS end before they grew to love each >ther so much they couldn't end it. Thlt she didn't love him is evident. Had the loved him she would have lost all rjisoning power. She would have urged that their intimacy continue he got only $6 a week. Love is atteiiled by hope. Deluded by that lit tle atendant. she would have pictured that ife for two on sl6 a week was not only possible, but would be the greatest joy Ife could hold. Bu since she didn’t love him, she deseres credit for frankness and hon esty. At least, she didn't accept atten tionjfrom him; theaters and rides and gift# with the mercenary desire to get as ipch out of him as she could, to distpss him when a more promising victit came along. I hpe he will give her credit for this. . And am sorry that she wrote asking him ;o call. That looks a little mer cenay. It would be better if she had wait’d for him to write her of his good 'ortue, telling her he was now in po sitiorto marry. Mus Be On His Guard. It nay he that site wishes only to congatulate him. It may be that mer i cenay gain is the last thought in her mint I lope he will give her the benefit, of the ioubt. And I beg him to remember thalfwh om he meets hereafter will not be ifluenced in some measure by the hale his inheritance throws around him Tat Is human nature. It is not a pleaant trait of human nature, but it exits, and must be reckoned with. 11 he wants to be loved for himself aloe, he must put that inheritance awy in good securities, and forget tha he has it. He must continue his wok at sl6 a week, and when he finds a jrl who will love him on that wage I lipe he will promptly grab her. 4 'or he will have found that which Is mre desirable than riches: A true and lovng heart. | Low Summer Excursion Rates CINCINNATI, $19.50 LOUISVILLE, SIB.OO CHICAGO, - $30.00 KNOXVILLE - $7.90 Tickets on Sale Daily, flood to October 31st, Returning City Ticket Office,4 Peachtree ECZEMA HAS NO TERRORS FOR THIS YOUNG LADY SHE HAS FOUND TETTEKINE. "1 have used your Tetterine and re reived great benefit from the use of same. The eczema <m my face usually appears in the spring and your salve always helps it. 1 use no other preparation but Tet terine and find it superior to any on the market.” Respectfully. ELSIE M IIDERINE, Edgar Spring, Mo., July 15, 1908. The Sirens copyright 1312. National News Association > T. Blinkley W AC l A? AAN, : .JvP‘. pappfcite/ T'i These Are the Real Things, as Every Midsummer Johnnie Know# TODAY'S INSTALLMENT. Betty had crushed the letter in her hand. She did not envy her sister the possibility of happiness that seemed about to open before her. only—how hard life had been to her! How bitterly hard life had been to the man who loved her! “I am glad to hear you say that,” the doctor said. “You mustn't worry about the funeral. I'll make the arrangements. Did Mrs. Rimington leave any papers?" “I haven't looked.” Betty said, dully. “Somehow I hardly dared to do so.” “If it would save you • trouble—if you cared to trust me so far —and a doctor is like a priest or a lawyer, his patient's secrets are as his own—l'll go through Mrs. Rimington's papers for you." “How good you are!" Betty said, grate fully. She handed the doctor the leather dispatch box and the dead woman's keys, and went gratefully to the rest the doc tor suggested in her own room Perhaps she had fallen asleep. She hardly knew; but the doctor's voice call ing excitedly cut through the thread that bound her to sleep or to half-waking dreams. “Miss Lumsden —Miss Lumsden —come out —quickly, please! No —It’s good news —too good to keep.” He wondered afterwards at the ex citement which had swept tact and or dinary decency of feeling, as it seemed, away on its tide relentlessly. He had given no thought to the dead woman' — to her reputation, to her relationship to the two people who were to benefit so in timately by her death. He only knew that here in his hand he held, in this closelywritten set of four quarto pages, the key that would unlock the Gates of Silence and let an innocent man go free. He never forgot—he never tired of tell ing it in after years how the girl, flushed a little with sleep, with shining eyes, had come out from the cell-like room that had been her voluntary prison never forgot, he never tired of telling how bravely, liow magnificently she had received the news of Deborah Rimington's confession. The Confession. For it was Deborah Rimington. frag lie and silent, the gentle-eyed, fanatical little mystic, who was the woman in the case the. woman the London police had suspected of being present In Tempest street on the night Fitzstephen, the money-lender, was murdered. All that had happened there that night I had happened with the strange ease and i simplicity which so frequently cling about the events of great tragedies. Mrs. Rim -1 ington had set down her share in the oc- I currence of that night In a style g,f lucid ■ simplicity which must have been bor i rowed from the Book in which she loved | to read of the fierce deeds of the war like women of Israel. Like .lael—like Judith Inflameil with the righteousness of her cause, she had gone to Tempest street to threaten the money-lender with the exposure and the punishment he deserved. Toby Riming ton had been very dear to her. She had loved him with the garnered love that would have been the birthright of those children who had never been horn to her. and Toby Rimington had died dis credited, disgraced and broken-hearted “The Gates of Silence” Ry Meta Sim mins, Author of "Hushed Up" done to death by this crafty money-spider as certainly as though the usurer's ugly browm hands had tightened about his throat. “He laughed at me,” she wrote. "Made a mock of my grief and pain. He had been drinking, and the fumes of drink had made him mad. When he came near me. bestial and threatening, I struck in self-defense. At my feet he bowed and fell down. I felt no pity for him. The Lord, using my hand as an instrument of justice, had struck at a man who was a menace to his kind. I left him lying there. "Since thea 1 have been a coward: but my cowardice must cease. It has come to me that the expiation I sought is not enough. I must speak and clear the In nocent man.” The confession had ended abruptly. Ap parently she had not concluded the w’rit ing of it on that night when Jack Rim ington had made his mad bid for free dom. But it was signed and attested. Pos sibly William Vogel, whose signature was appended as witness to the document, had imagined he was witnessing a will. “Is It true?” Betty asked. “Oh, doctor, is it true? Poor woman, w’hat she must have suffered.” Slipping to her knees, she bent her head on her folded arms and burst into tears. • • • The crocus, blue and white, had opened their cups very widely to the sun in the long, tiled boxes in the windows of the Barringtons’ house at princes Gate The man coming slowly toward the house glanced at them with the thrill of joy that flowers now never failed to give him. Each time that he glanced at their beauty It seemed to him that until lately he had gone through the world blind. The long, dreary months of his impris onment. if they had given him bitterness and pain, had quickened also his sense of beauty, his capacity for joy. Rimington had been free for a couple of weeks now. The machinery of the law had worked slowly and creakingly, but ft had worked; the usual farce of granting pardon to an innocent man had been gone through, the Gates of Silence had rolled back, and all the world lay before him. But he had not yet seen Betty. He had not felt It possible to meet her until, so to speak, he had shed something of the prison taint, come to some faint sem blance of his old self. But today he was to 'see her FOR SALE ~1 Roofing Pitch, Coal Tar, IMMEDIATE Creosote, Road Binder, Metal Preservative Paints, DELIVERY Roofing Paint and Shingle Stain. Atlanta Gas Light Co. 494 S L— ,1 '■ •■■r.TS'L rsry ■ ■' '■ 1— - And as he looked he saw’ the door of the house open. Betty herself stood on the threshold and held out welcoming hands. There in the hall, with its beautiful bronzes and furnishings, where Edmond Levasseur had met his death at the hands of the master of the house, Rimington took the woman he loved in his arms. Their lips met. There was no necessity for speech between them. But later, w’hen they did speak, it was of the future—not of the past—that they spoke. Not of Paul Saxe, the liar, the blackmailer, who had used them both so cruelly and so 111, who had expiated his sins in so horrible a manner—not even of Edith Barrington and her husband, who, like themselves, w’ere about to be gin life anew with a greater humility, a greater trust in each other —but of that new world into which so'soon they would go hand in hand—that new world of wedded life which Is yet as old as time. THE END. BILLY AND THE BILL. Teacher—“ Evil communications cor rupt good manners. Now’, Billy, can you understand what that means?” Billy—"Yes’m. Pa got a communi cation from ma's dressmaker this morning, and it made him use bad lan guage.” Nadine Face Powder {in Green Boxes Only. ) Makes the Complexion Beautiful V W \ 1 lISsSI I v’O ‘7 \ ’ / IN tn tun burn and return of discolorations. The increasing popularity is wonderful. White, Heth, Pink, Brunette. By toilet counters or mail. Price 50 cents. NATIONAL TOILET COMPANY. ParU. Tan» *'' Motor Boat Race The Biggest Cruising Event This Year turned the eyes of every motor boatman in the country toward the Atlantic seaboard. These staunch little boats traversed 719 tem pestuous miles of open sea in their long race from Philadelphia to Bermuda. A big achievement, you say, and interesting; but not more interesting than the story of the trip as told in the Septem ber Motor Boating. It you own a motor boat, or expect to, you will want to read this article. The detailed description of each of the racers —their equip ment and accessories and how they were handled —will be invalu able to you, whether your boat be an eighteen foot launch or an ocean-going yacht. This helpful narrative, together with full accounts of the big Chi cago Motor Boat Meet and the Gold Cup races at the Thousand Islands, you can read in the September Jasr Out nu,nber ° f UX. Motobßomm© at Any Newsdealer 381 Fourth Avenue New York City Soft and Velvety It is Pure, Harmless I Money Back if Plot Entirely Pleaied. The soft, velvety appearance re mains until pow der is washed off. Purified by a new process. Prevents Daysey Mayme and Her Folks. By FRANCES L. GARSIDE. WHAT’S A MAN TO DO? THERE hangs over the clock at the Appleton home a green and gold motto to this effect: "SPEAK THE TRUTH.” But when there is comparfy neither Mrs. Lysander John nor Daysey Mayme sees ft. Naturally, they can't see it. because it hangs over the clock, and they are perfect ladles. And no perfect lady ever looks at the clock when she has a guest. She may look at anything eise in the room, even at the cobwebs on the ceiling, but under no circumstances may she look at the clock. There was a caller. Mrs. Appleton was telling of her family’s claims to distinction. Lysander John was amused, but so well trained he didn’t show it. She told of one realative who had hazl four funerals. Every once in awhile, when the citizens wanted to have an Event, they would exhume hia body and remove it to a More Fitting Sepulchre. The visitor was Impressed. Then she told of another relative ao distinguished that 40 surrounded hla bedside whan he died. The telegraph never gives more than 80 to tha moat distinguished man’s death bed. By ac tual measurement no bed could accom modate more than sixteen, but the vis itor was not skeptical, and was again Impressed. “The town of Appleton, Wja,* abe said, "was named for my husband, who. founded It." Lysander John gasped. He had neves* been in Wisconsin In his llfel The visitor looked at the clock and gave an Incredulous scream. When a guest looks at a clock and gives an In credulous scream her hostess Is also given the right to look at the clock. But not a minute sooner. “It is two hours fast,” said Mrs. Ap pleton. Lysander John had set it right that evening, and his wife knew It! He gasped again. When his wife, after seeing her guest to the door and begging her to stay longer, returned, complaining that she feared the guest was going to stav all night, Lysander John gasped once more. "What,” he plaintively asks the wom en who are engaged in making this world a Sweeter, Purer, Nobler World to Live In, "is a man to do when his wife tells stories like that?” CASTOR IA For Infants and Children. Ths Kind You Havi Always Bought