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THE GEOBQJAM’S MAGAZINE PAGE A NOVEL BOA ,Br^^ v. >JF ** *" ■HL v f ' ■' TV :MHHB9Bw> > Jlwl mV3 BP IM HV ■ft £*"'’■ « *W. 'i W WIF \ jEWrey*' ->i .- vhi i * <>flHß\\ K , x ~s i: . '■■hi Jii K \ \ * .1 mmLwBHW Jyfe* ■Wt ■ \\ y X • ■■■ f Jhy ; \ A jfssiW ' f Y . a® I T-’- iii ■ iw ftp- zLi If/ E ,? OL 7 J ZZ"'' -x-iT’k.V? rTAHE Boa Hat is the very latest invention of th.- feather merchant and milliner. and it is likely to be more popular than either of them hoped tor because it is vastly becoming. The big feather boa wound about the crown of a wide velvet hat and falling over its rim at one side whirls about the neck in regular bea fashion. It i= y decorative, and com bines all tlie good features of the autumn millinery. The wide low feather trimming, the droop at the side and the collarette around the n ck. which s necessary for the woman whose frocks and coats have Hat turn-down collars. Up-to-Date Jokes “Ho. do yon tell those twin .-inters apart?" "Why. when you kiss one of them she •'I "ays threatens to tell ma, and the "tlier one always says she’ll tell pa." M wet —Isn’t that strange'.’ Katherine—What? •'la: caret That many a woman who ■ 1 f >“<i her hair wants to keep it Lh .v of H use—What caused you to become a tramp? Ragged Rogers—The faui'ly physi cal!, ni jin He advised me to take long alks afie" me meals, and I've been ■alking as. r 'em ever since. f 1 ’ 1 ' Ariel i. i.n-Why did you have .'our Italian hills? f e ex-Brigand—Too tarn". Why. I •til.' killed two people a month there, •nt since 1 became a chauffeur it’s a •001 iron th when I can’t land twenty in die hospital. A woman who liked to pose as a wit •••«• at dinner between a bishop and a rabbi. I lee] as if J were a leaf between >" old and the New Testaments.” she said to the rabbi. , 'er madam,” he replied; “that page ' usually a blank one.” h’rn a policeman can t arrest the bight of time,” said the funny man. ' 1 ' 1 don’t know,” rejoined the mat •t-faet person. “Only this morning policeman enter a side door •op a few minutes." ■ —ni Sake f do not take Substitutes or Imitations G «H>eWell-Kn O wn IfOS MALTED milk Made In the largest, best equipped and sanitary Malted TIM Milk plant in the world '"’l We do not make ’wnVA: products’— Skim Milk, Condensed Milk- etc. i) But th® Oriffinal-Crenuine HORLICK’S malted milk S* l Made from pure, full-cream milk •nd the extract of select malted grain, 6 oy milk sec* 1 - reduced to powder form, soluble in Mt# water. The Food-drink for All Ages. WASK FOR “HORLICK’S” —— Used all over the Globe The most economical and nourishing light lunch. “There ought to be orfij one head to every household,” shouted the orator. “That’s true.” replied a worried-look ing man in the audience. "Yon agree with me?” shouted the speaker. “I do,” roared the wprrjed-looking man, “I’ve just paid for hats for nine daughters.” Two or three younft men were ex hibiting with great satisfaction the re sults of a day’s fishing, whereupon the young yoman remarlied very demurely: "Fish go in schools, do they not?” “I believe they do. But ’. hy do you Rsk ? "Oh, nothing: only I was just think ing that you must h ive broken up an infants class.” There are those in Scotland—and elsewhere —who appreciate the value of a generous marriage portion. "Mae. I heard ye was courtin' bonny Kate MacPherson,” said Donald to an acquaintance one morning. "Weei, Sandy, man, I was in love wi’ the bonny 1 iss," was Mae’s reply, “but I fund oot she had nae siller, so i said to myself'. ’M;.e he a i inn.' , And I was a man; and noo I pass her by wi' silent contempt." Maude was home from college. “AA’ill you,” she said to her mother, “pass me my diminutive argenteous truncated cone, convex on its summit, and semi-perforated with symmetrical indentations ?” She was asking for her thimble. Be Sure to Begin the Neu) Serial With Today’s Installment BROADWAY JONES - Based on George M. Cohan’s Great Play Now Running in New York (Copyright. 1912, by George M. Cohan.) By BERTRAND BABCOCK. PART I. IN the largest, but at the same time the most secluded of the private din ing rooms of Speary’s, "Broadway” Jones was giving one of bls celebrated “dinners with a punch.” The preparations had been most elab orate and the precautions equally care fully made. The costly Venetian mir rors. which had reflected many a smiling, even many a leering face, had been re j moved from the walls, and their places i taken by cheaper ones of American-made ' glass. But as most of these mirrors were to be seen but dimly as vistas through tiny forests of maidenhair ferns, glowing smilax and potted plants, the substitu tion was more real than apparent. It was to such far-sighted vision and i psychological penetration that Henri Speary owed the comfortable fortune I that had followed the spreading of the knowledge. through Manhattan that at Speary’s "one could enjoy one’s self and even be—a little*—boisterous." "A leetle rough house,” confided M. Henri to his head waiter, "a leetle rough house, but without waste.” So it was that the supper or dinner parties whose members .wished to shatter M. Henri's mirrors did so without other | consequences than that the astute res taurateur added to their bill the cost of the Venetian glass which had reposed during the storm in his store rooms. A TYPICAL COMPANY. The- company which this night had i seemed to Al. Henri to warrant the sub i stlrution of the mirrors was typical of the i larger body which in five years bad made i Jackson Jones "Broadway.” About each ! of these glided youths who seek the I fountain of life beneath the lights of the | serpent way there clusters and circles a I myriad of human insects, some with ti e i beauty of the butterfly, some with the annoyance of .lie plain house fly, and some with the sting of the mosquito. So tonight it was as though each of these elements of the life the youth of 25 known as "Broadway” chose, had selected its delegation to represent it at the "dinner with the punch.” "Broad way” himself would have told yon that he knew every actor, every chorus girl, every newsboy, and every wine agent on Broadway. He had bought the knowledge and the acquaintance with the only coin current on the thoroughfare. So repre sentatives of some of these castes were in Speary’s. Rut there were also pres ent certain of those whose position is un defined—amphibians—half in the pool of Bohemia and half on the dry land of a i more regular society.' There were in I the private room, too,-certain of the real I friends of the youth whose cut was car ried in stock in all the newspaper of , flees which delimited in "white light” “stories.” One of the latter, Bob Wallace, a young advertising man. sat next to the malicious Mrs. Presbrey, and smiled slightly at her cutting remarks, without more than oc casionally replying to them. ”1 wonder what the particular punch is i which will finish this dinner.” said Airs. Presbrey. "You remember last time it vt.is ginrikisnaws filled with champagne, in which the men wheeled the women down Fifth avenue at « o’clock in the morning.” SURE TO BE STARTLING. "Depend upon it,” said Wallace, good naturedly, "it will be something equally if not mores tartiir.g. Do you see how thoughtful Broadwaj is? lie's meditat ing something.” Airs. Presbrey looked, and it was as W allace had The head crowned with darkly yellow hair was slightly bowed and about the alert, rather Celtic, I features of the youth credited in the • newspapers with the squandering of mil , Hon . there was a gleam, accentuated by a smile which an alert novelist might have called sad. Hut it Broadway Jones’ head was low ered his eyes were observant enough. In them was a depth of calculation, a little resentment ami again a settled determina tion. From the little table at which he sat with the or six babblers he was look ing across to another small table at which the most striking figure was a woman. Mrs. Beatrice (James) Gerard was no longer young. She might very well have Indeed fiassed for a. very eld erly mother of Broadway, but she was a widow, and it was said that she had In herited at least three millions from each of her three husbands. Upon her cheek was a scar which malice said had been made when she was undiplomatic enough to interrupt with a hatpin the saving of the last of her husbands. But despite the scar Airs. Gerard's money was perfectly genuine and she did not lack for friends and even a sort, ot standing in the circle which she was af fecting at the present moment. It was at .Mrs. Gerard that Broadway was staring with one hand partly thrust into his lower waistcoat pocket. Broad way waved aside a sort of resolve he had formed while to himself he mumbled: “If she were Eve divorce would have come into the world with Adam.” A PERTINENT note. But Mrs. Gerard apparently was not aware of the continued scrutiny of the youth, for in a moment more a waiter handed him a note In her cramped and j angular fist. He read: "Why do you stare at me so? “BEATRICE GERARD.” "One moment,” said Jones to the waiter while he hung over the note with eyes that seemed about to bulge from their sockets as the overwhelming force on an Idea which had come to him. From the richly embossed menu, a copy of which every guest had found at his plate, he tore a partially blank page He wrote: "Because I love you "BROADWAY.” As he watched the men glide back to the place in the rear of Mrs. Gerard’s chair he was visibly agitated. His hands trembled, his foot nervously tapped the floor and great drops of perspiration stood out on his forehead It did not seem the agitation of the lover, but. rather that of a man who has staked all that he has and much that he has not on the turn of a card. But the dinner had nearly ap proached the "case” stage, and his com panions at table engrossed in champagne and flirtation had no eyes for him at that mor wnt. lb- saw hi- divinity reed fits note, then | put one aged, withered hand over lior i Thon he didn't dare look It I seemed an age before i-.. wa »»t returned and laid at his elbow a scrap of paper, folded fantastically, even coquettlshly. He saw in trembling wavery characters: "I love you, too. BEATRICE.” With an apprehensive face that ill ac corded witli the fervor of his pencil he answered: "Not as much as I love you.” His communication brought him from that far away table a sickly smile, a death s head symphony of age giddy with the emotions of youth. For a moment his eyes fell beneath it, then with fists clench ed so that nails cut into the palms of his hands he njet it and smiled in his turn. The next communication from the aging goddess via the waiter route was: “Will you marry me*” BEATRICE. Almost upsetting the table Broadway leaped to his feet. Some champagne glasses did indeed roll in fragments on the floor. The while every eye in the room was turned upon him, and every retina there recorded his swift emphatic down ward gesture of the arm, he shouted: “Yes.” Instantly the room was filled with the clamor of many voices speaking at once —each to its neighbor. "The punch at last,” said Mrs. /Pres brey. Then she looked for young Wallace, but he had vanished some moments be fore. There succeeded silence as profound as the babel had been vigorous a moment before. Expectation was written on every face. Out of the silence arose a woman’s voice, the high-pitched tremu lous falsetto tone of Mrs. Gerard, who was half on her feet. “1 feel just like a little twittering bird In the tree top,” she cried, and then fell over backward to the floor apparently in a dead swoon. Swift were the rescuers. Nine millions ■ J dollars in a woman’s hands may have wings, but while it lasts it also puts wings to the feet of others. Women rushed to Mrs. Gerard, men tried to push past them, some one called for a physician, others for brandy, while still others, sodden with wine, stood agitated ly at their chairs, and then drank the dregs from their glasses, there seeming nothing else io do. B it If the feet of some of the diners had wings, those of Broadway Jones seemed planted in twin automobiles of greatest horsepower. Through the press of men and women he passed without ap i parent effort. It was his hand which raised Airs. Gerard’s head from the floor, his knee upon which it was pillowed, while he placed smelling salts beneath the woman’s tinted nose. “It was so sudden, poor dear.” he said, with just the slightest hint of bls old humor in his eyes, and would not say more. A doctor augmented without displacing the youth, who still supported Airs. Ger ard. Soon she Opened her eyes. Broad way. Jones' mind had phrased the words before her lips uttered them. “Where am I?” she murmured. As best he could from 'his half-squat ting position on the floor, he put his young arms about the angular time l gouged form. "Here, dearest, in my arms, safe where you belong. little Beatrice.” he said, so that an ever-widening circle about him heard and repeated to those on the out skirts. There was again a ’merciful interval which was hidden by the outspread skirts of the women. Then, finally. Mrs. Ger ard was led to her place, while, calm and alert, at her side stood Broadway Jones, waiting for order to be restored. In response to his gestures the com pany found, if not their old seats,- new ones, which they drew as near to Airs. Gerard’s table as possible. Then, at last. Broadway spread out his arms in a gesture for silence. He got it immediately. He sat down and a young lawyer, a friend, tool: his place. "My friends,” said he. “we have seen many things together, have shared many experiences. Now, we re going to share a great happiness. Our guest, I may well say, our guest of honor. Airs. Gerard, begs to announce her engagement to marry Mr. Jackson Jones.” At first there was only an astonished ripple, to be succeeded a moment later by bursts of laughter. This in its turn was followed by a blending of softer merriment, the mingling of congratula tions and polite sprightliness, when peo ple began to reflect that after all this might be one of those "punches” with which the name of Broadw’ay Jones had been associated. But merriment unbounded returned when from the far end of the room came a piece of the grotesque, from which even the most rhoughtless might have drawn a sinister shade. A white-haired man, with a champagne glass in his hand, arose and waved it aloft. He, was recog nized as an intimate of the Gerard fam ily, and of the age precisely of Mrs. Ger ard's second husband- that Is to say, of her own age. His hoary head brought Into striking relief the great difference in the ages of the pair whose “happi ness” had just been announced. "A health to the bride! A health to the bride!” he shouted. Then at a signal from him. repeated by the pallid Br-iadwax Jones, files of waiters swiftly appeared with great mag nums of champagne, cooled in l uge sil ver pails. I’nder the deft efforts of the serving men. the foaming wino flowed in unrestrained rivers. Then begun the maddest period of the night, which justified all of the precau tions of M. Henri. I’pon an improvised dais, made by heaping chairs upon ohalrs and covering all with Oriental rugs, they set Broadway Jones and his antique divinity, while they crowned them with chaplets made from the flowery table dec orations. It was a season of hilarious frenzy, and as gradually the torrents and cas cades of wine swept away the coherence of speech, words lost their meaning, their sound, and became merely so many laughs, so that-in the end the chief sign of merriment issued alone from every mouth. These, uniting, became hut a single vibration which made to tremble the window panes, and seemed to send out over the city an intangible, menacing ra dlatlon whose root was not in sanity CASTOR IA Tor Infant* and Children. Thi Kind You Have Always Bought It was 5 o’clock in the morning when twenty grave but unsteady-legged youths, whistling the wedding march from Do hengrin. escorted to his house Broad way Jones, still crowned w ith flowers and weeping and laughing convulsively in turn. A FRIEND’S EFFORT. Close to the hour at which Robert Wal lace had left Broadway’s dinner, a cer tain astute personage connected with Speary’s, but whose official title was not "press agent,” had gone to one of Speary’s telephones. He had called six or seven numbers, among them 2000 Beek man. 4000 Beekman and 2200 Beekman. Soon after bls series of conversations, several keen-eyed young men were watch ing the scene in the private dining room from corners of hallways and balconies. So It was that the next morning Wal lace. in an Idle moment after closing a contract, read a fairly accurate account of what had occurred at the now famous dinner after he had left. Dong as he had known Broadway Jones, the "stories” astounded him. Dike many of the guests of the previous night, he had thought that here was merely another of the famous "punches.” The next moment he had put the Joking possibilities aside and was certain that Broadway was out of his senses. He finished by not knowing what to think and took the subway to the house which Jones had rented at the commencement of making his name. Rankin, the butler, had read the pa pers, too, but he had little to add to what Wallace already knew’. He had ad mitted Jones in the morning and had been told that as the day was Thursday Broadway was not be called until Satur da y. Wallace sent Rankin to his master. The butler reported back that he had aroused Broadway, the latter had called for the newspapers and a w’hisky sour, and was even then dressing. While in a bitter state of mind. Wal lace sat waiting, there was an agitated ring of the doorbell. "If it’s a newspaper reporter, tell him that Air. Jones Is out of town,” ordered Wallace. MRS. GERARD CALLS. A few moments later Mrs. Gerard pushed past Rankin into tha room, few traces of the previous evening upon her heavily rouged cheeks. ’Tell Air. Jones I’m here and waiting to take him for a spin through the park.” she said to the butler. “Say to him that it’s a glorious morning.” Then, seeing Wallace sitting gloomily in his chair, she wdshed him "Good morning!" to which he responded shortly and gloomily. “You didn't wait for the announce ment last night,” said she. “What do you think of it?” Then, as he didn't reply, “I say, what do you think of our en gagement?" “What do you think of it?” causticMly. Again came the high falsetto which Mrs. Gerard had used on the previous evening, as emotion of any sort seemed to send her voice squeaking into an up per register- one that showed the wear of age. “I’m the happiest girl in New York," she piped. At his biting burst of laughter, she drew herself up, but he assured her that his mirth was caused by "something that hopuened years ago.” She was re lieved, as "mother always called her a silly child.” “Your mother! Is your mother still alive?” burst from him in astonishment. "Why, of course.” answered Mrs. Ger ard. “She had ten children—five boys and five girls. I’m the youngest of the girls. The baby, they always called me.” "I suppose most of the boys are still going to school?" satirically. “Oh. no: they are all married.” A QUESTION OF AGE. “Foolish youngsters.” "Oh, I don’t know! I married my first husband when I was eighteen. That’s twenty long years ago." Airs. Gerard bad said this bravely, but there was an astounded pause on the part of Wallace, at the end of which he exclaimed: “You don't mean to tell me that you're—” She put one withered finger to her ar tificially reddened lips. "Sh!" she almost “That's only betw’een us. I don’t tell my age to every one. How old are you. Mr Wal lace?” Not a muscle of his face moved as he replied: “I’ll be twelve In October." A bewildered look crossed the old rose, fatuous face of the triple widow Final ly she laughed. "Oh, I see,” she said, “you want me to add about twenty to that." 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