Newspaper Page Text
THE GEOraaiAWS MAGAZINE PAGE
*‘lnitials Only By Anna Katherine Green
.4 Thrilling Mystery Story of Modern Times
(Copyright, 1911, Street & Smith.)
■Copyright, 1911. by Dodd, Mead & Co.)
TODAY'S INSTALLMENT'.
Orlando was in that shout of natural
forces, but he is not in this stillness They
look aloft, but the heavens are void
Emptiness is where life was. Oswald be
gins to sway, and Doris, remembering
him now and him only, has thrown her
strong young arm about him. when—
What is this sound they hear high up,
high up, in the rapidly clearing vault of
the heavens' A throb —a steady pant
drawing near and yet nearer —entering the
circlet of great branches over their heads
-descending, slowly descending—till tiity
catch another glimpse of those buy out
lines which had no sooner taken shape
than the car disappeared from their sight
within the elliptical wall open to re
ceive it.
It had survived the gale! It has re-en
tered its haven, and that, too, without
colliding with aught around or any shock
to those within, just as Orlando had
promised, and the world was henceforth
his! Hail to Orlando Brotherson!
Oswald could hardly restrain his mad
.joy and enthusiasm. Bounding to the
door separating him from this conqueror
of almost invincible forces, he pounded it
with impatient fist.
"Let me in!" he cried. "You ve done
he trick. Orlando, you've done the trick."
“Yes. I have satisfied myself," came
back in studied self-control from the
other side of the door; and with a quick
turning of the lock, Orlando stood before
them
They never forgot him as lie looked at
:hat moment. He was drenched, battered,
palpitating with excitement, but the
majesty of success was in his eye and in
he bearing of his incomparable figure.
As Oswald bounded towards him, n«
eacbed out Ills hand, but his glance was
lor Doris.
"Yes," he went on. in tones of sup
pressed elation, "there's no Haw in my
triumph. I have done all' that 1 set out
tu do. Now
Why did lie ijtuji and look hurriedly
back into the hangar? He had remem
bered Sweetwater - Sweetwater, who at
that moment was stepping carefully from
his seat in some remote portion of the
car. The triumph was not complete. He
ban meant
But there his thought stopped. Nothing
of evil, nothing even of regret sluiuld mar
bis great hour He was i> conqueror, and
it was for him now to reap the joy of
conquest.
Night.
Three days had passed, and Orlando
Brotherson sat in his room at the hotel
before a table laden with telegrams, let
ters and marked newspapers The news
of his achievement had gone abroad, and
Derby was, for the moment, the center
of interest for two continents.
His success was an established fact.
The second trial which he had made with
his car. this time with the whole town
gathered together in the streets as wit
nesses. had proved not only the reliabil
ity of its mechanism, but the great ad
vantages which it possessed for a direct
flight to any* given point. Already he
saw Fortune beckoning to him in the
shape of an unconditional offer of money
from a first-class source; and better still
—for he was a man of untiring energy
and boundless resource—that opportunity
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All this was his and more. A sweeter
hope, a more enduring joy had followed
hard upon gratified ambition. Doris had
smiled on him—Doris! She had caught
the contagion of the universal entliusiaam
and had given him her first ungrudging
token of approval It had altered his
whole outlook on life tn an Instant, for
there was an eagerness in this dem
onstration which proclaimed the relieved
heart. She no longer trusted either ap
pearances or her dream. He had suc
ceeded in conquering her doubts by the
very force of his personality, and the
Shadow which had hitherto darkened their
Intercourse had melted quite away. Bhe
was ready to take his word now and
Oswald's, after which the rest must fol
low l ove does not lag far behind an
ardent admiration
Fame! Fortune! Love! What more
could a man desire? What more could
this man, with his strenuous past and an
unlimited capacity for an endarged future,
ask front fate than this. Yet, as he
bends over hit letters, fingering some,
but reading no.ie beyond a line or two,
he betrays but a passing elation, and
hardly lifts his head when a hurst of
loud acclaim comes ringing up to his win
dow from some ardent passerby: "Hurrah
fur Brotherson! He has put our town
or the mat>!"
Why this desopndency? Have those
two demons seined him again? It would
seem so and with new and overmastering
fury. After the hour of triumph comes
the hour of reckoning Orlando Brother
son in bls hour of proud. at tainment
stands naked before his own soul's trlb
unal and the pleader Is dumb and the
judge inexorable. There is but one wit
ness to such struggles; but one eye to
note the waste and desolation of the de
vastated soul, when the storm Is over
past.
Orlando Brotherson has succumbed; the
attack was too keen, his forces too
shaken. But as the heavy minutes pass,
ho slowly regathers his strength and
rises, in the end a conqueror. Neverthe
less. he knows, even in that moment of
regained command, that the peace be had
thus bought with strain and stress is but
momentary; that the battle is on for life:
that the days which to other eyes would
carry a. sense of brilliancy -days teeming
with work and outward satisfaction—
would hold within their bidden depths a
brooding uncertainty which would rob
applause of its music and even overshad
ow the angel face of lx>ve.
He quailed at the prospect, materialist
though he was. The days the Intermin
able days! In his unbroken strength and
the glare of the nonday sun, lie forgot to
take account of the nights looming in
black and endless procession before him.
It was from the day phantom He shrank,
and Hot from the ghoul which works in
the darkness and makes a grave of the
heart while happier mortals sleep
And the former terror seemed formid
able enough to him in this hour of start
ling realization, even if he had freed him
self for the nonce from its controlling
power To escape al! further contempla
tion of It he would work. These letters
deserved attention He would carry them
to Oswald, and in their consideration find
distraction for the rest ofthe day. at least
Oswald was a good fellow. If pleasure
were to be gotten from these tokens of
good will, he should have his share of it
To Be Continued in Next Iseue
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Valuable Beauty Hints by Elizabeth Risden
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MISS ELIZABETH RISDEN, LEADING WOMAN IN 'FANNY'S FIRST
PLAY.”
By Margaret Hubbard Ayer.
TUTS is Miss Elizabeth Risdon, the
Fanny of "Fanny’s First Play,” a
very young- woman, and as shy
about talking of herself as most Eng
lish actors seem to be when they first
come to this country.
During the course of the interview I
admit that I did most of the talking;
somebody has to talk on these occa
sions, and every woman likes the sound
of her own voice.
Besides, 1 can tell you it is no easy
thing to draw out the secret of her
baauty from an English actress.
Miss Risdon put her hands over her
face and chortled with glee at the very
thought of having to talk on such a
topic. But she didn’t say anything, so I
asked a few of those leading questions
which would be so rude if one did not
have the excuse that the dear public
thirsts for such information, and this is
what she said:
”1 know all the things you ought to
do, and I don't do one of them."
Not Exactly Right.
Miss Risdon continues to be healthy,
and she is very pretty, with ttaees of
her Scotch-Irish descent in her big
eyes, slight face and earnest expres
sion, despite the fact that she goes con
trary to all the best known and most
neglected rules of health and beauty.
"Have you found out what Bernard
Shaw's ideal of beauty Is?” said I, with
the air of the orchestra leader when he
is "vamping” till ready.
"No,” said Miss Risdon, "none of us
know. Margaret, the heroine of Fan
ny’s play, is described somewhere, I
think, as a vigorous young woman with
Daysey Mayme and Her Folks
By Frances L. Garside
TWO SIDES TO A STORY.
THERE had been a great deal in
the papers about the proper way
for a man to propose.
Mrs. Lysander John Appleton gave a
•igh.
"Your father doesn’t look it now,”
she said to her daughter, "but he was a
very ardent lover when he was young.
I could have done better, but Lysander
John made love so persistently that 1
turned down a duke and several mil
lionaires to marry him.”
A sigh, in which her daughter joined.
“He proposed to me nine times. The
last tinie he said if I didn’t marry hint
he would throw himself in the river. I
just had to marry him or bp a mur
deress."
Daysey Muyme thought of the duke
and the millionaires, and looked re
proachfully at her mother But now
that father was in the family, there
was no use in complaining about it.
Lysander John cut the cards in order
to give himself a square deal, and laid
them out for a game of Canfield.
"You women.” he said, turning up a
queen, "don't know how funny you are.
If you did, and had any sense of hu
mor, you would laugh yourselves to
death.
“Here you are. talking all at once
about the proper way’ for a man to
propose.
"My deat madam," addressing the
queen in tones of conviction, “the men
don't propose. They- just call on a girl
a few times, and she begins to get her
clothes ready for the wedding.”
Hi begun to play, but turned up so
mate ••• hie mind wandered baik
dilated nostrils. Thai doesn't exactly
strike me as a description of beauty.
Dilated nostrils, indeed! It sounds as
if she snorted, but probably she had
excellent lungs. People with dilated
nostrils usually do, don't they?
“Please ask me about something that
1 know about,” said little Miss Risdon,
in her pretty English vpice, and it final
ly transpired that she knew a great deal
about what you should or should not do
when posing for a photograph. Now,
as every woman has to submit to be
photographed once in her life, and some
of them seem to be doing it all the time,
1 will quote Miss Rigdon’s advice:
"Women make a great mistake in be
ing photographed in their latest and
most stylish frocks, because the photo
graph is soon out of date, just as the
frock is, while an arrangement of ar
tistic drapery never goes out of fashion.
"The same thing is true of the hair.
Os course, a woman on the stage is
photographed for every part, and that is
a different thing, but fancy how ridicu
lous the picture looks today of the
woman with ten or twelve puffs on her
head, such as were worn two years
ago. One should wear the hair as sim
ply as possible, and in an artistic or
picturesque arrangement, that will al
ways look well, while the fashionable
coiffeur of five years ago now is laugh,
able. Nev'er brush your hair too flat or
arrange too carefully.
"Another thing: Never allow a pho
tographer to take your picture when
you are depressed in spirits or in ill
health. Be photographed at the time of
day nt which you look your best. Some
people look very much brighter In the
evening than in the daytime, and there
to the days when he was young. In
those days he knew he had a heart.
Now that ite was old he knew more
about his liver.
“I had called on the woman who mar
ried me," he resumed, “three times. 1
remarked on my last call that a young
man who lived at a boarding house ate
a carload of fried potatoes a year. I
said it complalningly. She looked sym
pathetic and threw her arms around my
neck.
“It seem*," making a wrong play,
"that I had proposed marriage without
knowing it. Then she sent for the
preacher! ”
He sighed, and shuffled for a new
deal.
WELL IN ADVANCE.
I would like to look at some house
hold goods," said the tall brunette as
she entered the big furniture shop.
"You see, I expect to be married soon.”
"Ah, indeed," said the polite clerk;
"just step this way. We have special
inducements for young couples start
ing in housekeeping. When is the glad
event to come off?”
"Well —er—-the day hasn't been set
tled yet."
"Oh. 1 see: the lucky young man has
just proposed, and—”
"No, he hasn't proposed yet, but —”
"Ah, he is going to propose. How
long has he been calling?”
"Well, lie hasn't started calling .vet.
but
"What is the young man's name?"
"Really, 1 don't know at present, but
mamma says she thinks some nice
young man win start calling soon, so
I "anted to be in tlm* "
arc photographers who make a spe
cialty of evening work, just to meet the
demands of the woman who looks pret -
ty by candle light.
"Never wear gloves in a photogiaph;
they make the hands look larger and
awkward. If your hands are going to
show, the finger nails should be highly
polished*, it gives more tone and color
to the picture, and makes the hands
look prettier.
Some More Hints.
"Don’t let a photographer arrange you
in a curlicue way with your feet round
one way, your head another, and your
arms twined about the studio chair.
When a woman goes to a photographer,
she generally leaves her will power and
her individuality at home. That’s why
so few photographs resemble the orig
inal.
"As to make-up. Many people use it
when they are going to be photograph
ed. Outlining the eys. especially where
the eyelashes are faint or very light, is
good, and the lips can be moistened or
rubbed over with vaseline to give them
more color, but rouge and powder give
the photograph a queer and unnatural
look and spoil the likeness.” , •
Up-to-Date Jokes
yuack Doctor —Yes. gentlemen. I
have sold these pills for over 25 years,
and never heard a word of complaint.
Now, what does tiiat prove?
Voice from the Crowd —That dead
men tell no tales, guv’nor!
Hunting Squire—-Murphy, you told
me there was good hunting on your
land. Why, we've been here an houi
and haven’t seen any game.
Murphy—Just so, sir. But the less
game the more hunting you have.
Sandy was walking along the road
in deep thought, and it was his minis
ter who brought him to earth again
with:
“Halloa, Sandy! Thinking of the fu
ture, eh?”-
"No,” replied Sandy, moodily. “To
morrow’s the wife's birthday, and A’m
thinkin' o’ the present.”
She put down the book with a sigh.
"What is it, darling?” he asked.
"Ah. dearest, I am so happy,” she
replied.
"But you had such a sad look in your
eyes just now.”
"I know. I’ve been reading about the
unhappiness that wives of men of
genius have always had to bear. Oh,
Alfred, dear, I’m so glad you’re just an
ordinary sort of a fellow."
A small boy was selling papers at a
railway station where there were some
20 or 80 persons waiting for the train.
A combdlan standing by called to the
newsboy:
“I say, boy, would you like a new
job?”
"Yes, sir,” replied the boy. “What is
it?”
“Well," said the comedian, “my mas
ter wants a fool.”
“Oh, does he?” said the newsboy. “Is
he going to sack you, or keep two?”
Two young fellows recently attended
a tea for which they had bought tickets
at ten cents each. The profits were to
go toward a treat to the aged poor. One
of them, after consuming four cups of
tea, six ham sandwiches, a plate of
bread and butter, two tea cakes, five
jam tarts and four large buns was pass
ing his cup for the fifth time when he
turned to his friend and said in a se
rious tone:
"I think every one should encourage
a thing of this sort, ft’s for a good
cause, you know.”
SEVEN YEARS
OF MISERY
How Mrs. Bethune was Re*
stored to Health by Lydia
E. Pinkham’s Vegeta
ble Compound.
Sikeston, Mo. “For seven years I
suffered everything. I was in bed for
four or five days at a
time every month,
and so weak I could
hardly walk, I had
cramps, backache
and headache, and
was so nervous and
weak that I dreaded
to see anyone or
have anyone move in
i the room. The doc-
tors gave me medi
cine to ease me at
Ipß
;Jrag
those times, and said that I ought to
have an operation. I would not listen to
that, and when a friend of my husband's
told him about Lydia E. Pinkham’* Veg
etable Compound and yvhat it had done
for his wife, I was willing to take it.
Now I look the picture of health and feel
like it, too. I can do all my own house
work, work in the garden and entertain
company and enjoy them, and can walk
as far as any ordinary woman, any day
in the week. I wish I could talk to every
suffering woman and girl, and tell them
what Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable
Compound has done for me.’’—Mrs.
Dema Bethune, Sikeston, Mo.
Remember, the remedy which did this
was Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable
Compound.
It has helped thousands of women who
have been troubled with displacements,
inflammation, ulceration, tumors, irreg
ularities, periodic pains, that
bearing down feeling, inuijjsstion, and
nervous prostration, after all Other means
have failed. Why don’t youNfy it?
* Little Bobbie’s Pa *
Rx William F. Kirk
BY the was', Bobbie, sed Pa to me.
while I am up here in the coun
try I think I will have to buy
sum honey & send it hoam, I newer
tasted any nicer honey than the honey
lam eating now. The bees that made
this honey must have had a sweet
dlsposishun, Pa sed.
So after we had our breakfast Pa
& me went to a place whare thare
was a old farmer wich had a lot of
honey to sell. All the way to the
farm Pa was talking about how much
he knew about honey. 1 used to keep
bees myself, sed Pa, when I was a
young man back in Wisconsin, & the
minnit I see the bees I can tell the
kind of honey that tliay make. The
minnit I look a bee in the eye, Pa sed
to me, I know jest how much he knows
about honey. If he looks at you steddy,
sed Pa, I know he is a honest bee that
doesnt beeleeve in sliteing his work,
but if he looks kind of shifty I wud
dent be sur-prised if his honey wud
dent be fit to eat.
Wen we got to ware tile hbney was
Pa called the old farmer oaver & sed
I want to buy sum honey to send back
to New Y’ork.
All rite, the old man sed, that is
what me Ar the bees is here for. How
much honey do you want?
1 want to get a whole case of it. Pa
sed, fourteen boxes, the saim as my
frend John Dick got here last week.
He sed that your bees was as honest
and hard working as the day is long.
The only thing is, sed Pa, the days is
gitting shorter now, so maybe the bees
ain’t on the level any moar. •
Doant worry about the bees, sed the
farmer to Pa, they made all this honey
along in the summer anyhow. Jest
taik a taste of it & see.
Me & Pa both tasted the honey & it
tasted fine. This seems to be the reel
artlkel, said Pa, but beefoar I take it I
wud like to look the bees oaver.
The Right Way to do Your
Housecleaning.
Mrs. Tired N. Weary—“ Here’s a letter from Mrs.
Sprightly. She wants John and me to come over on
Wednesday night. I would just love to go—but no, I
will be housecleaning next week. Scrubbing and rub
bing make me unfit for everything. It is worse than
a whole week of washdays, isn’t it, Anty Drudge?”
Anty Drudge— “lt depends altogether on how you do
your housecleaning, my dear. If you do it the
Fels-Naptha way—rub up your floors and paints with
cool or lukewarm water and Fels-Naptha Soap, you
will be fresh enough for any entertainment when
night time comes.”
Is it any wonder that the woman with
a big family who washes the way her grand
mother did has red swollen hands —big
knuckles —large veins?
Yours would be that way too, if you
had to spend one whole day out of each
week, standing over a tub of steaming suds,
rubbing like mad on the washboard.
To say nothing of the labors of house
cleaning.
But, “thank goodness!’’ times have
changed since grandmother was a girl.
Fels-Naptha has relieved the world of
the hard rub and scrub; of the steaming
sudi. It washes clothes white as snow in
cool or lukewarm water, in one-half the
time and with one-tenth the effort of the
old-fashioned way.
That is why so many housewives of
today are retaining their soft, white and
shapely hands; their fine nails and their
clear, girlish complexion.
Follow the directions on the red and
green wrapper. Use any time of year.
You can look at the bees if you want
to take a chanst. sed the farmer, out A
can’t see for the life of me what dTr
ferns it maiks how -the bees look, as
long as you like the honey. Cum on &
look at them If you want to.
You bet I want to, sed Pa. i have
lived among bees too long to git stung
In a bizness deal.
I ain't going to sting you, but the
bees mite, sed the old man. So then
be took Pa oaver to one of the hives,
& I stayed rite whare I was.
All I want to look at Is one of them,
sed Pa.
Thare is one on the outside of the
hive now, sed the old farmer. Pick
him up & over.
So Pa picked up the bee & beegan
to look into the bee’s eyes to see If
the bee looked honest & strate.
I doant know if the bee looked at
Pa in the eyes or not, but I know' it
stung him on the nose.
BITING SARCASM.
Neighbors are all very well when it’s
a question of your doing them a good
turn; but when it comes to a question
of them helping you. it’s a. very differ
ent thing.
When Mr. Smith’s house caught fire
the first thing he did was to rush out
to seek help from his neighbors. Al
ready there were two upon the
"I say,” he cried anxiously to one of
them, “will you rush to the corner and
give the alarm?"
- “Awfully sorry," was the reply, “my
leg’s very bad. Can’t move.”
“Well, look here," said Smith to th«
other. "Would you mind running to ths
corner and shouting 'Tire!' whilst I
get a few things out of the house?”
“Sorry, also,” came the response,
“I’m suffering from frightful sore
throat. Couldn’t make any noise if I
tried al) night."
“Oh," said Smith. ■Tm'sorry myself
that you can’t help me." Then he add
ed, with biting sarcasm: "Suppose you
go and fetch out easy chairs and enjoy
the blaze?” *