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THE MAGAZINE PAGE I Want All That’s Coming to Me * Copyright. 1912, by National News Asa'n * * By Nell Brinkley T JPMWAx jAfekjsi ■ ■ W® AACvW- f ■ W M MUrIF« u tTAIwiBBui W\ aw ■ -f' ■■;,l / r “fkWHbMA *"'■ a. W -.'/«■■ AiWwW 7 :A. '■• -V: -I . %.?i® «’■’ La.m „ |L -■ ■. t ■ . ,_ 4. "Ww- .' A 1— ONE day 1 sal in a little mountain hair shop where a round little woman with a rolling gait that belonged Io the wel decks of a ship at sea ’stead of to the dark green velvet carpeting of her “Dry-Bone Gulch’’ “Emporium’’—was shampooing my best chum’s gold-brown hair. My best chum is a wise ami cheer ful little girl. She has a “heart for any fate.” The round little woman talked. She talked of her many beaux of what she liked and didn’t—where she was.“horned ’’ and almost how old she was! And we listened with our gray and blue eyes wide and our sense of humor entranced. And the little round woman ended up (with a slant in the glass at her marvelous, dyed, wooden-curled head) in an explosion of real feeling: “INITIALS ONLY” (Copyright, 1911, Street * Smith.) 'Copyright. 1911, by Dodd, Mead & Co.) TODAY’S INSTALLMENT. < 'swald shuddered. Orlando had spoken truly; she had always been blindly, arro gantly trustful of her oldest son. No fault could she see in him; and now Impetuously Oswald struggled with his weakness, raised himself in Mr Challon r’s arms and cried In loud revolt: •But God is just He will not Ist you •scape. If He does. I will not. 1 will .lound you to the ends of this earth and. A careless cook may waste the Baking Powder, but cannot spoil the food. never leaves that bad taste so commonly noticed when too much of many other Baking Powders is used. Ail good Grocers sell it or will get it for you. Made WithCo t tole Saratoga Chips made with Cottolene are never greasy, as are / those made with lard. The reason for this is that Cottolene / 7 heats to about 100 degrees higher than either butter or lard, V _Jz without burning, quickly forming a crisp coating which excludes ie at - Y° ur Chips, therefore, are crisp, dry and appetizing. Cottolene costs about the price try this recipe. \ \ of lard and will an Peel ,he P o,a,oe » « n <i dice thin Into \\ ? lara, ana WUI go one-tmra cold water. Drain well, and dry in a A \i Wtil farther than either butter or lard. towel. F>y a tew at a time in hot c<>r- W \\ B 11 I toltne. Salt as you take them out and . W \i * 1 ..... ,a r them on • coarse brown paper for IB \%l\ jflKl B M Made only by a short time. Sjy| V> WL’ n THE N. K. FAIRBANK COMPANT 1 4 I Z -■■ ~ \”■* ** ■ t.'. • , § S3o|f If neccKsary. Into the eternities. Not with the threat of my arm -you are my mas ter there, but with the curse of a brother who believed you innocent of his darling's blood and would have believed you so In face of everything but your own word." "Peace!" adjured Orlando. "Thue Is no account I am not ready to smile. I have robbed you of the woman you love, but I have despoiled myself I stand desolate in the world, who but ait hour ago could have chosen my seat among the best and greatest What can your curses do after that?" I want to know love and loving. I want all there is in every year. Why, I want even to be a grandmother some day," she said. .1 Thrilling Mysferv Story of Modern Times “Nothing.” The word came slowly like a drop wrung from a nearly spent heart. ‘Nothing; nothing. Oh. Orlando, I wish we were both dead and buried and that there were no further life for either of us.” The softened tone, the wistful prayer which would blot put an Immortality of joy for the one. that It might save the other from an immortality of retribu tion. touched some long unsounded chord in Orlando’s extraordinary nature Advancing a step, hr held out his hand— the left one. "We’ll leave the future s o Itself, t >swahl. and do what we can with the present.” said he. "I’ve made a mess of my life and spoiled a career which might have made us both kings. Forgive me. Oswald. 1 wsk for nothing else from Cod or man. 1 should like that. It would strengthen me for tomorrw.” Hut Oswald, ever kindlx. generous and more reads to think of others than of himself, had yet some of Orlando’s tenac ity. He gazed at that hand and a Hush swept up over his check which instantly became ghastlx again. ”1 can not,' said h* "not even the left one. Ma> Hod forgive me!” Orlando, struck silent for h moment, dropped his hand and slowly turned away. Mr. Chailoner felt Oswald stiffen in his arms. and break suddenly away, onl\ to stop short before he had taken “I’m tryin' to keep just as young as I kin. You'd never guess how old I am. would you? Well. lin older’n 1 look. I am! I hate —I detest to get old ever! I hope I may never See the day when 1 have a little white nubbin on the back of my head and can’t get a beau!’’ My little chum ruminated. And then she murmured gently (ami I knew she saw fancies of the varied years ahead in the mirror). “ Why, 1 want everything that’s coming to me! I want to know love and loving. I want all there is to come in every year. I want even lo be a, grandmother some day when I’ve done everything else! I want everything that’s coming- to me!" NELL BRINKLEY. By Anna Katherine Green one of tlie half dozen steps between him self and his departing brother. "Where are yon going?” he demanded in tones which made Orlando turn. "I might say, ‘To the devil!’ " was the sarcastic reply. "But I doubt if he would receive me. No." he added, in more ordinary tones as the other shivered and again started forward, "you will have no trouble in finding me in my own room tonight. I have letters to write and — other things. A man like me can not drop out without a ripple. Von may go to bed and sleep. I will keep awake for two." “Orlando!" Visions were passing before Oswald's eyes, soul-crushing visions such as in his blameless life he never thought could enter into his consciousness or blast his tranquil outlook upon life. "Orlando!" he again appealed, covering his eyes in a frenzied attempt to shut out these hor rors. "I can not let you go like this. To morrow—” "Tomorrow, in every niche and cornet of this world, wherever Edith Challon er s name has gone, wherever my name has gone, it will be known that the dis coverer of a practical air ship is a man whom they can no longer honor. Do you think that is not hell enough for me; or that I do not realize the hell it will be for you.’ Ive never wearied you or any man with my affection; hut I’m not all demon. I would gladly have spared you this additional anguish; but that was im possible. You are my brother and must suffer from the connection, whether we would have it so or not. If it promises too much misery and I know no misery like that of shame—come with me where I go tomorrow. There will be room for two." Oswald, swaying with weakness, but maddened by the sight of an overthrow which carried with it the stilled affections and the admiration of his whole life, gave a bound forward, opened bis arms and— fell. Orlando stopped short. Gazing down on his prostrate brother, lie stood for a mo ment with a gleam of something like hu man tenderness showing through the flare of dying passions and perishing hopes; then he swung open the door and passed quietly out. and Mr. Chailoner could hea the laughing remark with which he met and dismissed the half dozen men and women who had been drawn to this end of the hall by what l ad sounded to them like a fracas between angry men Five O'clock in the Morning. The clock in the hotel office struck three. Orlando Brotherson counted the strokes; then went on writing. His tran som was partly open and he had just heard a step go by his door. This was detect ft FOUNTAINS. HOTELS. OR ELSEWHERE Get the Original and Genuine HORLIGK’S MALTED MILK The Food DrinkforAllAges tics milk, malt grain ixtract. in powder Not in any Milk Trust KT Insist on “HORLICK'S” lake a package huna nothing new He bad already heard it several times before that night, ft was Mr. Chailoner's step, and every time it passed, he had rustled his papers or scratched vigorously with his pen. "He is keeping watch for Oswald." was -his thought. "They fear a sudden end to this. No one. not the son of my’ mother knows me. Do I know myself?" Four o'clock! The light was still burn ing. the pile of letters he was writing in creasing. Five o'clock! A rattling shade betrays an open window. No other sound disturbs the quiet of the room. It is empty now: but Mr. Challoner, long since satisfied that all was well, goes by no more. Si lence has settled upon the hotel—that heavy silence which precedes the dawn. There was silence in the streets also. The few who were abroad, crept-quietly along. An electric storm was in the air and the surcharged clouds bung hetivy and low, biding the moment of outbreak. A man who had left a place of many shadows for the more open road, paused and looked up at these clouds; then w’ent calmly on. Suddenly the shriek of an approaching train tears through the valley. Has it a call for this man? No. Yet he pauses i in the midst of the street he is crossing and watches, as a child might watch, for the Hash of its lights at the end of the darkened vista. It comes—filling the empty space at which he stares with moving life—engine, baggage car and a long string of Pullnm-ns. Then all Is dark again and only the noise of its slacken ing wheels comes to him through the night. It has stopped at the station. A minute longer and it has started again,* and the quickly lessening rumble of its departure is all that remains of this vision of man’s activity and ceaseless expect ancy. When it is quite gone and all is quiet, a sigh falls from the man’s lips and he moves on, but this time, for some unexplalntabie reason, in the direction of the station. With lowered head he passes along, noting little till he arrives within sight of the depot where some freight is being handled, and a trunk or two wheeled down the platform. No sight could be more ordinary or unsuggestlve. but it has its attraction for him. for he looks up as he goes by and follows the passage of that truck down the platform till it has reached the corner and disap peared Then he sighs again and again moves on. A cluster of houses, one of them open and lighted, was all which lay between him now and the country road. He was hmrying past, for his step had uncon sciously quickened as he turned his back upon the station, when he was seized again by that mood of curiosity and stepped up to tlie door from which a light issued and looked in. A common eating room lay before him. with rudely spread tables and one very sleepy waiter taking orders from a new arrival who sat with his back to the door. Why did the lonely nian oh the sidewalk start as his eye fell oil the latter's commonplace figure, a hungry man demanding breakfast in a cheap,' country restaurant? His own physique was powerful while that of the other looked slim and frail. Rut fear Was in the air. ard the brooding of a tempest a fleets some temperaments in a totslly unexpected manner. \s the man inside turns slightly and looks up, the master figure on the sidewalk vanishes, and his *tep. if any one had been inter ested enough to listen, rings with a new note as it turns Into the country road it has at last reached But no one beetled The new arrival munches his roll and waits impatiently for 111: coffee while without, the clouds pile soundlessly in the sky , one of them taking the term of a huge hand with clutching Ungers reaching down into the hollow void beneath. To Be Conducted Tomorrow. sag las. IT Ji 1 ©' —-1 I feAIINOH' i M ’il ® | LM L \\W \ 1 Hi /ANTY ja / druw ? \ ULX e I / \trn n"TT~2 Jr- < X / S —\vL I When the Clock struck One on Wash Day. Hickory, dickory, dock, The mouse ran up the clock. The clock struck one; And the wash was done, Fels-Naptha made it fun. Hickory, dickory, dock. Doctors and college professors have been trying for years to find out how much energy a man uses when working. If they would try it out on the woman who hangs over the washboard every Mon day—they’d get the information quicker, though the women who do this are becom ing fewer every day. Fels-Naptha worked the change. I he woman who uses Fels-Naptha gets done sooner and has whiter clothes. And she hasn’t rubbed her health, strength and good nature away on the washboard. If you haven’t tried the Fels-Naptha way, it’s time to begin. Xou can’t start too soon to take care of your health. A Fels-Naptha wash-day keeps the house comfortable —not full of steam and soap suds’ smell. Use cool or lukewarm water with Fels-Naptha. Makes clothes last longer because you don t boil them tender and then rub them to pieces on a hard metal washboard. Follow the easy .directions on the red and green wrapper. Use any time of year. - - . ~~* GEORGIAN WANT ADS BRING RESULTS