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How Miss Langford Lost .
Her Sweetheart When I
He Saw a Room Full of *
Photographs of Her 1
tty Knth Helen Langford
VRS. I am single, been use I am a “weath
er" woman. A man jilted me for the
senseless reason tbnt I am a creature
of moods. I am likely to die a spinster be
cause men do not recognize the charm of
vartablcnese. Yet, these men adapt them
selves to a change of weather, wear a rain coat
when It storms, a linen Ono on a Summer day,
•nd moods are only mental weather.
Men are inconsistent creatures. They ad
mire many women for different qualities—
Maud for her pretty airs rtnfi graces. Jane for
her stateliness, A ice for her domestic traits,
MUHcent for her chic. Margaret for her spirit
ual qualUties. Yet when one woman combines
in herself all these attributes and many more,
they sny she is “moody” and run away from
her Theoretically they admire woman as a
“creature of infinite variety." Actually they
ere such cowards that they are terrified by her
elastic temperament.
My story is brief but to the point, a very
sharp and painful point. 1 was In love. The
man, too, was in love. A literary man, he
was nervous and sensitive, imaginative and
full of ideality. He did not merely love mens
ordinary morta s do. He adored me, wor
shipped me as a deity, a saint enshrined. He
asked me repeatedly to marry him. 1 asked
time to reflect
One evening a dull November rain was fall
ing. It beat against the window panes. It
beat upon my heart. I drew ray ermine wrap
about me and gazed into the tire. The pelting
at the rain got upon my nerves. 1 sighed.
Suddenly 1 felt a tear upon my cheek.
"I am lonely,” 1 thought. “For the first time
in my life I know the uwful sense of aloneness.
It it is like this at twenty, fancy what it mut t
be at eighty!”
1 ran to the telephone and called. “Bob. dear,
is that you? Please come over here and marry
me right away.”
I heard a strange sound at the other end of
the wire. I thought it was an exclamation of
joy at receiving a favorable answer at hist. I
hung up the receiver, rang for my maid and
put on bis favorite of all my gowns, a rose
colored velvet trimmed with silver.
When be entne in I saw at once that some
thing was wrong. “What's the matter, Robert
dearest?" 1 nsked. “Aren’t you delighted that
we are to be one?"
But his glance never sought my anxious face.
Instead It roved around the room.
“What are you looking at, dear?” I inquired,
tearful at the thought that he might bo losing
bls brilliant, ntided mine.
“At your pictures, Helen.” he said ruefully.
“When I look at those I am afraid to marry
you. I might be arrested for bigamy. I
Science Discovers That Sponges Are Really Glass
THE popular Idea of a sponge
is of a tough, fibrous. porous
substance with a remarkable
capacity for absorbing liquids.
Many understand it to be the sub
aqueous home which a colony of
small animals build for their home.
Others are acquainted with the
discovery of science that the
, sponge is itself a salt water ani
mal with pores iu its body wall,
which, when dried In the sun and
thoroughly cleansed, loses its softer
parts and becomes the sponge of
commerce.
The recently discovered fact that
on the bottom of the deep sea in
certain localities the body wall of
living sponges is actually composed
of glass seems incredible. Yet this
is perfectly true. At those great
ceptns, where the pressure of the
•surrounding water amounts to
many hundreds of pounds to the
equate inch, the soft and pliable
animal of shallow waters is trans
formed into glass—and yet it lives
and multiplies as ordinary sponges
do. Thia Is a most remarkable and
interesting example of the real re
lationship lu nature of animal, veg
etable and mineral substances.
Specimens of those glass sponges
brought up from the depths as
great a. Ove thousand feet below the
surface of the ocean are of g;m--.
should feel that I were married not to on*
Woman, but to forty."
I had been photographed many times and
each picture looked a different girl than the
others, ft was a quite harm ess little fad of
mine—to study myself in ray own moods as
revealed to me by these photographs.
"Moods! Moods!" My reluctant suitor flung
up his hands In despair. “I want to marry a
woman, not a bundle* of moods. Look!”
There were forty photographs In the room. I
had arranged them there to please him. And
the ungrateful man had turned.
"Look nt that,” said he. pointing to n Niche
like photograph “Suppose I wedded her and
she should vanish and this other one should
appear" He nodded toward a frowning, scorn
ful creature. “I short'd feel that I must move
my traps Into another room. It wouldn’t seem
quite right nor legal to share tiers, don't you
know."
‘And that,” he pointed to a girl in the sulks,
who seemed to be no relation to the others.
“How would I know how often she might ap
pear.” His glance roamed on till it reached my
most smiling picture. “Exit Mme. That and
enter Mme. This. Why, my dear Helen,
should fool positively immoral."
Then lie started on a new tine of argument.
“A woman of that sort is a mental vampire,''
he said. “She would sap all a man’s energies
by keeping him wondering and worrying about
which of the forty girls you have here ho would
find when lie returned home in the evening.
No. my dear Helen. 1 must bld you adieu."
He kissed my hand and was gone. I wept,
raged, laughed, exhausted a l my moods, and
gave the rose and silver gown to my maid, bid
ding her to keep ft out of my sight.
That is the reason I am tolling the story of
how I was jilted, instead of addressing my
wedding cards.
Men are purblind creatures, who don’t know
what they like. They admire the woman of
moods, but are afraid of her. They like
changes of thought and attitude ns they like
changes of season, and like the changes of
season they are good for them Various views
and Ideas are ns tonic ns the change from
Winter to Spring and Sammer to Autumn
Men who fear them are ns timid as the poor,
cowering male creatures who welcome Spring
but are afraid to* lay aside their overcoats.
“At least." said a friend of mine, brilliant
beautiful and as changeful ns a will-o’-the-wisp,
and with whom her husband is much in love,
"1 never bore that dear man I married.”
Moods are .ike travel. They widen our hori
zon and give us mental stimulus. As we range
the world we tire of the frozen regions of the
north and of that which some one has aptly
as pure ns any manufactured by
man, in forms of great beauty, with
ornamentation in tracery more del
icate and graceful than could be
achieved by the most practiced hu
man hands. Nothing was known
of them earlier than the middle of
the Nineteenth Century, and it is
only quite recently that science has
determined them to be truo
sponges, with a wall structure of
silica, the principal mineral sub
stance of which glass is made.
This discovery is due to the great
German traveller, Siebold, who
studied specimens obtained In deep
waters off the coast of Japan, re
turned with several of them to his
native country, where he demon
strated to fellow scientists the
truth of his claim.
Japanese fishermen bad grappled
with these examples on the bottom
of some of their deep bays where
the absence of currents and other
disturbances made possible the de
velopment of their delicate fila
ments. In honor of the discoverer
of their true character the scienti
fic name given to this extraordi
nary creature, both animal and min
eral In substance, was Hyalencma
Sieboluii Spouglae Mirabilis.
Ihesc- Japanese fishermen had
mounted their specimens on wood,
and Siebold it s-,p; H .. them
to be the product of remarkably
capable glass spinners. It was
only when be realized the mechan
ical impossibility of creating forms
of such delicacy artificially that he
found the conclusion afterward
corroborated by his examination of
freshly caught glass sponges.
These tie discerned to be
true sponges with body walls
of glass Instead of fiber When
the strange creatures were dried
in the sun and cleansed of
all the softer parts —as Is the proc
ess with the sponges of commerce
—Siebold held in his hands varia
tions of the same delicately beauti
ful forms which had so excited his
curiosity. These forms of actual
glass were the skeletons of the
sponge animals, just as the famil
iar sponge is the skeleton of the
same species of animal making its
home in shallow waters.
Later Investigations revealed how
these glass sponges were born and
developed into maturity. The be
ginning is an egg having the form
of a fine glass needle.
These s.eedles take on all kinds
of shapes, possibly due to acciden
tal currents, or the position t D
which they happen to fix them
selves. so that there is an infinlt*
variety of forms assumed by ths
glass sponges
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Ruth Helen Langford, the Girl ot
Many Moods,
termed "the eternal gnn of the 6uUttk,“ Co satisfy all
our needs we require the temperate zone which has all
these extremes in rapid succession. K -e,
i admit that 1 have many moods. One of my most
common ones is that of devilish playfulness. Another,
a lately awakened one, is love of admiration. A mood
of extreme self-reliance, which some are unkind enough
to term stubbornness, is a frequent one, but I contend
that this is most desirable, for if we do not follow the
light within we are lost in a great darkness. We should
listen to and weigh advice, but we should be our own
Judges of whether it is good or bad and follow that de-
Science has now divided these
glass sponges into a number of dif
ferent species, some growing to
enormous size. One was' drawn up
from a depth of 5,000 feet, near the
coast of Somaliland. They as
sume shapes like cornucopias, prob
ably the better to catch the food
in tile water, or spread out in
needle-form for a similar purpose.
The cornucopia is found to have a
web, like a sieve, across its interior,
to prevent any very large parti
cles from entering, which would
give the sponge indigestion, if lc
did not break it to pieces. If a
targe bit of decaying matter fell
..'x ts"
PH w >
Would Chill a Folar Bear
cision. I have moods of religious ecstasy anil
moods of poetical exaltation. I am plunged
often into moods of profound studiousness.
There are hours when lam extremely critical.
At one tln.e I maY like some one exceedingly
A week hence I may not care at all for that
person.
But most marked is the difference between
my moods of joy or sorrow. For no apparent
reason they come and go. I awake in the
morning and my maid, when she brings in
mv coffee, is pale with fright, and her eyes
are soft with sympathy. She knows at a
glance that this will be one of my black days.
I awake with the sense of a heavy, impene
trable cloud pressing down upon me and
smothering me with its weight. My whole
some, practical friends say commiseratingly:
"You are liverish, my dear.” But I know that
they are mistaken, for I am sound as any
face horse starting on the final sprint to win.
Sometimes, when I have heard this. I have
set forth for a walk, or I have slapped my
thorax above the liver, as my masseuse has
.taught me. to wake it from its sleep. It
has been of no avail.
1 have eaten more freely or eaten not at
all. I have taken warm baths nnd cold
plunges to drive away the blue devils. Id
vain! When I had abandoned all hope and
thought of suicide —benold! On the instant,
the cloud lifts and I am another Helen Lang
ford. laughing, smiling, dancing, singing,
drunk with the joy of life.
Asked to explain this, I reflect, but have
reached no conclusion that wholly satisfied
me. Os one thing 1 am sure, the womanly
woman is assuredly a moody creature. The
womanly nature ts finely organized, excecd
inglv sensitive. The vibrations of the
thoughts and emotions of those about her
affect her as the wind an Aeolian harp
Moods! Moods! They allure men, affright
them, hold'some, drive many away. But
woman would not be woman without them.
The man who fa Is in love with a woman must
fall in love with her moods.
When 1 hear of a woman. "She is always the
same.” I know she is stupid and a bore, and
that her husband will tire of her.
into one of these sponges, it would
kill It, so the animal protects itself
by the tine sieve spread over the
stomach entrance. The S[xmge is a
living. breathing animal, even
though of such low organization as
to be lacking in nerves and sense
organs.
The tragedy of th- ocean depths
is shown in the appearance of the
coral animals upon these sponges
where the corals first began to
build a little at a time and at last
broke down the sponge, until It
was destroyed, and onlv the skele
ton remained—as appears from the
remains brought to the surface
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Inviting Him to
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In a Sullen Moment.
In Haughty Mood.
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When Melted to Tears. While” She Is~ Sarcast