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•w * fi h 3WU|’F 3' • ml" ' £ hw t 0%% H| »*■ S ’* ib gl §l® *z * BL. J&t Iflß HI ' i *t 11 Y 111 IT .LU.il IMI U 1 ILJLIJI W a>rtr’lfnnW” 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 ft • ‘ •.< w,. ' Jfe, X mb > EggNMhft >■ I £ c.»dp< ft- iWr I tn///,b ! ,. i-” " ""W sW St" ‘ it’’ id Hr, f » ;n " ■ t 11 1 1 J. MK ; ■ i ImMy F r fflf ' IHBBr r # .x- 1 i- Mgpio Resenting W ft it' His IR&r Mo ° ds - r K. < ~» V } ■■ >*z « y ■ j jWi / # I lift# Wi Sw Wf | SbMu ft. ■■' X'„ ft ■./ ft&i W>M I . V ; s ft - i' t ‘ 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 1 \ ' f a ‘ fl Inviting Him to Spar. - •» . , •' llliii JL JL In a Sullen Moment. In Haughty Mood. f. Bl JL x A Pen sive Mood kT '•* Ai® "** w gR- B W| ' JHI| " 'jmK» f - * 'V v ■< »«» _ ’ \ When Melted to Tears. While” She Is~ Sarcast