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TOE OEOBCA4WS MAGAZIHE PAGE
The Impatience
of Love
By BEATPICE FAIRFAX.
A YOUNG nir.ii who sign himself
Eddie writes that he fell in love
with a gill of a station a little
lower than his own, and that because <f
the interference of his sisters a quarrel
followed, and now the girl h- lot. - ti
"such distraction the um it. nt\ i
driving him tn fuses to speak to
him.
Cm- of the traf Not
Ing is more serious at the tltni th.-ci a
lovers' quarrel, and there i- little in lif<
that leaves a deeper pang for futurt
memori
"There is no sweetness in 10ve..--
quarrels that comp, t.s.-itcs tin -dim..'
“What shall 1 tin?" writes I m. I
am awaiting your answ. ■ .-t.. v-<!
man waits for food."
You who have pa--- I it period ot
life which might I' lim-d as ti. .p
--py time of delusion" w 11' < I aim that
Eddie exaggerates his condition. How
ever, there is proof in history and Ac
tion, in poetry and prose, that h<
doesn't exaggerate his I clii.a otic jot.
A starving man doesn't wait sot food
in greater agony of apprehension . to.
distress.
This is the difl'erenet : A stun mg
man rfill make . very efiort to get food.
A man in love, stupid biunderet that
he is. will sit back and lament. And
more times that, an told some other
man runs away with the girl lie loves
because of his lackadaisical altitude.
Aly advice to Eddie is that In forget
thire is such a tiling as a differ* nee in
stations in life. It is a foolish distinc
tion recognized only by toe narrow
minded. If tile girl loves him and he
loves her. and tis-y ale both honest anti
sincere in their Imo. the recognition of
such a bar to tin ir happiness denotes- a
p tty mind.
Go to her with your heart in your
hand. If Shi reject: your offering, go
Again and again. You write that tin
girl has told you she loves you. Keep
that consoling little confession befor
your eyes If she refuses you twice
seven times.
Refusals may he humiliating, but the
humiliation is good for you. Every man
is made a better man if the woman who
loves him administers an occasional
treatment.
Perhaps you have shown her you
thought your station in life above hers-.
If that is the case. I hope she will re
fuse you often enough to convince you
that she is on a plane so much higher
than you ft will take humbleness and
devotion on your part all your life to
make her forget it.
Waste no more time In mournful let
ters. Take action, and take it prompt
ly.
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/ ft \
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* wfe< : ■■■'■■ ■■ -■ ■■'■■ ■■ ■■ 1 ■ 1
The stranger at the table —made c»
walnuts, almonds, two bananas, tooth
picks and paper napkins. The picture
at the right shows him on his way to
dinner—made of bananas, corks, and
his hat brim from an apple.
An Exciting I ale of Love and Adven- irri Tp YT t T t t T)> > The Story of the Play of the Same Name Now
lure 1 hat Grips h rom Start to Finish 1 ±IXI/ VV 111-L Punning at the Manhattan Opera House, New York
By Bertrand Babcock.
(Copyright. 1912 by Drury Lane Com
pany of America, by arrangement with
Arthur Collins, managing director
of the Drury Lane theater of
London.)
TOD A V S IN ST A L LME NT
CHAPTER VII.
The Course of Lambert’s Love Anything
But Smooth.
Across the meadows and through Bev
♦•rlo\ wood. Harry Anson, The Whip’s
jockey, followed his sister. The manner
of Ihe girl was furtive and occasionally
she looked bark as though she suspected
she was bring followed.
At such times Harry, in the dusk of the
evening, took advantage of whatever
cover there was So Myrtle, without being
more than half-conscious of another’s
Household Hints
Apple butter is one of the most
wlndi-sotm things h child cun eat, the
dietitians say. strange to tell, nearly
nil normal children adore apples. Ap
ples pared, boiled and pressed through
a colander can.be canned this \fiij with
very little sugar and are always easily
kept mil ready for making into apple
butter.
To make overshoes last, never place
them near a tire while damp, as the
heat will crack and contract them. If
they arc cut, mend them with a piece
of thin rubber on the inside witli a lit
tle glue used for bicycle tiros. When
they begin to look old and rusty, they
maj be restored to the original black
by applying a little vaseline or sweet
oil with a llannel cloth. Always keep
them lit a cool, dry place, and when
traveling, in a cloth bag lined with gum
tissue or wrapped in a piece of thin
rubber.
A box tilled with small squares of
sandpaper is a great labor-saver in a
kitchen. When eggs stick to cups,
macaroni to the baking dish: when
vegetables or meat burn on the kettle,
when Hour and water dries on the
table, or even when the coffee pot be
comes discolored, instead of scraping,
s.ciking. brushing or boiling, use a
square of sandpaper, coarse or fine as
the case may require, and in a few mo
ments any persistent matter will be as
suce, ssfuily removed as by any other
method and with a great saving of time
and labor.
§ < The Manicure Lady
By 'William /■’. Kirk
/ GORGE." said th,- Manlcur.
I -w- Lady, "do you know something’.’
1 think that brother Wilfred i
going to be a bug for fair. I always
defended him when tile old gent culled
him a loon, but now I know that I
showed kind of bad judgment. The old
gent was right.”
" What’s the matter with brothel
now?” asked the He.id Barber
"Oh, he brought home a poetry book
last night," replied the Manicure Lady.
"It was wrote by a gent named Whit
man-- .Mister Walt Whitman. Wilfred
says that It Is the grandest podtty that
he ever read, but I can’t see It with a
spyglass. There is a lot of Urns in
it that I can’t understand, ami as long
as I can understand everything Mister
Shakespeare ever wrote. 1 think I will
stick to him. He never had nobody
scratching their heads much, ami this
Whitman feller Is nil the time making
me say, ’Am I crazy, or him.” Listen
to this of Ids, George. (let this:
" I hear a little brown bird singing in
the swamp; ”
I look up at the stars. 1 see the moon;
I ask about my soul
Sing on, little brown bird, sing on,
bashful and tender.’
’ I ain’t sure if I have got the words
just right, George, but it was something
like that, anyhow . Oo you think that is
regular poetry ?” •
"It don’t rhy tm very good. ’ said the
Head Barber, judi< ially Poetry ought
to begin every line with a capital let
ter and end every line with some kind
,ol a rhyme, kiddo -some kind of a
rhyme. There is a awful lot of poems
ir 1
. .... ■. /f
presence, finally arrived in the Italian s
garden that stretched and sloped away
from Falconhurst to the south. Now, he <
thought, he would find out to whom Myr- f
tie had been giving news of the racers
in the Beverley stables. But in bls haste t
V 1 enter the garden, toft, and conceal him- t
self, he stumbled over a small rosebush,
whose small branches had needed trlmr
ming by the gardener. j
With a shudder Myrtle turned and saw
him. Hut, nevertheless, with the strategy t
of a woman, she at once put him on the s
defensive. t
"Harry, what are you doing here?” she
demanded.
Harry explained that Lord Beverley had
sent for him, as he had. But in turn he
asked:
Accuses His Sister.
"What are you doing here? I’ve seen
you come slinking along this many a time.
Some one's been talking. Things have 1
gotten out about the horses. Who talks?”
“I don’t know," said Myrtle, sullenly. 1
"I do.” returned Harry. "A girl. Who
for? Some one who’s made a fool of her.
Hut I'll find the blackguard out, and when |
I do”—
< >n bis way to the library, where he had
an engagement with Lord Beverley, Toni
Lambert, the trainer, came into the gar
den at this moment, and the furious
1 sense of Harry at once jumped to the
same conclusion which had been troubling I
Mrs Beamish. Instantly the boy walked
up to the portly but sturdy elder man and 1
shook his fist under Lambert’s nose. ,
'Til stand no wrong—not with my sis
ter,” be blustered.
"Young idiot." returned Lambert, sav
, agely aw,ire that the world seemed in
conspiracy with Mrs. Beamish.
"Perhaps," exclaimed Harry; "but I’m
not a blackguard.”
i Mrs Beamish came slowly toward the
• castle and then stopped abruptly as she
heard their heated words.
"For tuppence I'd put my stick around
you." shouted the furious Lambert, rais
( inglils cane.
“I’ve found the stable mouse. Mr. lam
-1 bert," went on Harry, rage blinding his
1 eyes and Judgment alike. "Some one
tells Myrtle stable secrets for her to send
outside. And why does she do it? Won’t
f a girl do anything for a man when he’s
i fooled her, got her under bls thumb?”
Lambert could stand nothing more, and
, he seized the boy b.v the shoulder, shak
ing him savagely while he raised his stick
' for chastisement.
Quickly Mrs. Beamish interposed, re
leased Harry and walked between them
j much as a referee might have done in
s the prize ring.
"If you’d only heard what ho said.”
s panted Lambert, ready to take advantage
r of the slightest opening between the two
■ men that Mrs. Beamish might leave.
I "1 did." she returned in her dry tone of
you just spieled to pie has all thp oth
’ ers lashed to the mast. I never heard
such truck Why couldn’t this fellow
Whitman have wrote something like
this one that I am going to spring on
, you?
” I had a dear companion.
But she’s not with me now.
Tlte lily of the valley
Is waving o’er her brow,
And so 1 am sad and lonely
And w.cping all tile day
l-’or dark-eyed, laughing little Nell
(it Narragansett Bay.’"
”1 think that is kind of good poetry,
I George." admitted the Manicure Lady,
i I "but give me this one every time:
i “ ’Two drummers sat at dinner in a
grand hotel one day.
I While dining they was chatting in a
friendly sort of way.
. And when a pretty waitress brought
them a tray of food
They looked at her familiarly, in a
manner somewhat rude.
, At first she did not notice them, or
give them the least reply
Till one i emark was made that brought
tlie teardrops to her eye
Then facing her tormenters. her cheeks
now burning red,
She looked a perfect picture as ap
pealingly she said: .
CHORI’S.
"My mother was a lady ’’’
“You ain’t going to toll me that is
real poetry,” Interrupted the Head Bar
ber.
"It’s better than the one you was
singing about Narragansett Bay I” de
-1 dared the Manicure Lady "But they
' are bath *vme poems, ain’t they,
suspicion. "He has my sympathy."
The fight left the spirit of Lambert at
once. This woman whom he loved was
forever suspecting him groundlessly.
"You think I’d go courting a girl that
age?” he said mournfully to his elderly
flame.
Mrs. Beamish smiled bitterly.
"1 certainly hoped you knew better at
your age,” she snapped.
Then, with an abrupt resumption of
that dignity which became her so well,
she sent Myrtle back to the Anson cot
tage and Harry to see Lord Beverley.
“And when you get back to the stable,” 1
Up-to-Date Jokes
Gertie—l wish you to know that I
don’t stand on trifles.
Helen (glancing at her feet) —N.o.
dear; 1 see you doh’t.
Freddie—lt’s always in damp places
that mushrooms grow, isn’t it, papa?
Papa—Yes, my boy.
Freddie—ls that the reason they look
like umbrellas?
Insurance Examiner—And what did
you say your grandmother died of?
Feminine Risk—l can’t just remem
ber; but I’m sure it wasn’t anything
serious.
"Algy, dear," she murmured, "I should
be happy’ if I could walk through life
hand in hand with you; but—”
"But what, dearest?’
"But I should be happier if 1 could
ride."
Professor of Chemistry—ls anything
should go wrong in this experiment we
and the laboratory with us might be
blown sky-high! Come closer, gentle
men, so that you may be better able
to follow me.
Pendennis: "Who is the meanest man
you know?”
Warlngton: "Old Closeflst. Whenever
there is a crowd at the railway book
ing office, he always gets on the out
side, so as. to be the last to part with
his money.”
“There is no occasion for you to
envy me,” said the prosperous person.
"I have as many troubles as you.”
“J s'opse ye have, mister,” admitted
Dismal Dawson; "but the difficulty with
me is that 1 ain’t got anything else.”
"Adolphus, dear," said she. tenderly
pushing him from her, as the moon
light flooded the bay window where
they were standing. "I think you had
better try some other hair producer—
your upper lip tastes like turpentine,"
The old soldier was again giving the
youngster accounts of the wonders he
had experienced, especially in the way
of climate. Said he;
"I remember when we were in Fy
zardutn we used to toast our bread in
the sun. and”
Youngster (interrupting)—“Yes, I
know; and you were supplied with
corckserews to draw your breath!"
A coster and his bride stood before
the rector of the “red church” in Beth
nal Gteen, London, mutually plighting
their troth in marriage.
The bride hesitated to repeat the
phrase "and obey."
"You must say it,” said the clergy
man.
After a moment’s muse, the coster
intervened: "Go on. guv'nor! I can
make ’er'."
The Baboo English of India is usual
ly commercial, but recently a Baboo
lawyer offered a fine example in the
defense of a woman client.
"My learned friend, with mere wind
from a teapot, thinks to browbeat me
from my legs,” he asserted. “I only
seek.” he continued, earnestly, “to
place my bone of contention clearly in
your honors eye."
"I hear you have got a new baby.
Wiggins," said the 'squire to his gar
dener "What arc you going to call
him? Not some high-flown name that
will make him ridiculous in after life, I
hope?"
"O no, sir." replied Wiggills. If
it’s not a liberty, sir, we thought of
calling him plain James —after you.
Lambert could not resist calling after
Harry, “you know what's waiting for
you.”
Mrs. Beamish Predicts.
"Coward!” sputtered Mrs. Beamish,
when they’ were once more alone.
“Cat!” retorted the outraged trainer.
“Only a woman would believe a lot of
gossip like that.”
"I've seen you talking to the girl,” re
turned Mrs. Beamish coldly and haugh
tily.
"There was something wrong with tlie
boy,” explained Lambert.
"Now we know what it is,” came from
her.
"Well, I will be—” began Lambert.
“You certainly will be if you don’t re
form at once." she said tartly, as she
gathered her skirts carefully about her,
ready to leave him with all the scorn at
the command of fluttering petticoats.
"And you’ll get Into all sorts of difficul
ties. If you don’t look sharp you’ll find
yourself the central figure in a big breAch
of promise suit. And ship’ll get big dam
ages— Serve you right—you old fool!”
And then she was gone, leaving Lambert
assassinating several rare shrubs with his
cane.
CHAPTER VIII.
What Was Planned in the Italian Garden.
Alone in the Italian garden were Mrs.
D’Aquila and Captain Greville Sartoris.
There was a certain kinship of spirit
between the two. Sartoris was cool and
incisive—so was the woman. Sartoris had
not hesitated at much to gain his small
sporting ends; neither would she. He was
now on the point of anything criminal
that would advance his pocketbook; so
would she be. Added to this, they’ had
known one another intimately in London
in a certain society in which Mrs.
D’Aquila was now at home, and which
Sartoris sought occasionally.
They had heard the verdict of the con
sultation of surgeons and physicians as it
was presented to them by Sir Andrew
Beck.
An operation would do no good. Bran
caster might die that night or he might
begin to mend. Once his recovery began
—if begin it did—it w’ould be very’ rapid.
Much of the immediate past would be as
nothing to him. Probably he would not
remember anything about his accident.
“An injury to the brain such as he has
received." Sir Andrew had said, “often
knocks a bit out of the memory,”
And now Mrs. D’Aquila sat thinking
over his words, as she had just come
from the chamber of Brancaster, while
Sartoris, equally thoughtful, smoked his
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Picture at the left—The wounded
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>
strong and perpetual cigarettes at her
side. Finally the woman raised her eyes,
broodingly, to his thoughtful face, as they
sat together on a stone bench.
“Greville,” she said, somberly, “I have
tost my chance.”
He started.
“Brancaster's Widow?"
“Eh, Nora, what’s that?" he asked.
“I have lost my chance —of becoming
—a first-class widow,” she said, in dead
ly calm tones.
“Whose?”
“Brancaster's.”
"Rats."
“Fact."
"He’d really’ have married you?"
“He would.”
"Rubbish—l beg your pardon.”
"Certainly," went on the woman. “You
don’t 'understand Brancaster. He’s a 'pre'
something or other. That's where I come
in. I’m long and I’m lank—he calls It
esthetic. I dye my hair puce—he calls it
Titian and Burne-Jones. I can pant and
whisper at the piano under a pink lamp
shade, with the soft pedals down, while
I look unutterable yearnings into space.
I can babble second-hand philosophy—
French philosophy—in the moonlight. He
draws and he paint, and, like most men,
he is chivalrous; like most gentlemen, he
is generous. He thinks I have been mis
understood and harshly Judged. I’m cer
tain that if some day I got him in the
right mood, in tears and a teagown, with
my hair down and a landanum bottle on
the mantelpiece, you know—why, one day
it was as near as this.”
Continued in Next Issue.
Southern California affords more opportunities than any
other area in the world. WHY? Because it has proven its
possibilities in a thousand ways. The pioneer work is done.
The chances to follow proven lines are unlimited. The es
sentials ate: Climate, land, water, power, transportation
and markets. Southern California has them all.
You Will Want To
Know All About This
Marvelous Country
I •
THE NINTH ANNIVERSARY NUMBER OF THE
LOS ANGELES “EXAMINER” will be issued WED
NESDAY, DECEMBER 25, 1912, and will be the greatest
edition of its kind ever published, giving you every possi
ble information about this famous land.
It will tell you about its farming possibilities, its pcul
try, its fruits, its walnuts, its oil production, its beet sugar
industries, its live stock, its cotton, and, in fact, anything
and everything you may wish to know abotrt Los Angeles
and the marvelous country of which she is the metropolis.
The information will be accurately and entertainingly
set forth, and appropriately illustrated.
The proposed opening of the Panama Canal turne all the eree of
world on this region.
This epeclal edition will be mailed to any address In the United Stat-r
or Mexico for Fifteen Cents per copy.
As the edition Is limited, and so as not to disappoint anyone, an ea: ’
request with remittance Is desirable. Remember that some of your frien ‘
may not see this announcement. Use the coupon below uml see thst th
get a copy.
—
I' Los Angeles “Examiner,”
Los Angeles, Cal.
Enclosed please Andcents, for which you will';
please send the Ninth Anniversary number of vbur paper to
the following names.
Name street
?
I City State <
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I State J
Los Angeles Examiner
LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA
Advice to the
Lovelorn
By BEATRICE FAIRFAX.
HAVE MORE FAITH.
Dear Miss Fairfax:
I know a nice young man. I like
him very much. He acted very nice
to me and always made me think
lie liked me. Some time ago he let
the city, and has been writing to
me. The other night I met one of
his old chums, who told me that he
was corresponding with ' Severn
other girls. PEARL
He is not engaged to you. and has ,
right to correspond with other glrb
though such inclination does not do hi- •
credit.
But you do not know that he doe:'
Don't believe every michievous repo:-
you hear. If you do, you will find yon
self friendless. ’ v
WRITE AGAIN.
Dear Miss Fairfax:
I am 17 years of age, and on my
vacation last year I met a girl wlm
lives in the city, whom I liked v. : .
much. When J was going awav
she gave me her address and asked
me to write to her.' which I did. and
received an answer. Then I wrote
another letter to her and received
no answer. Kindly advise m
whether I should write to her again,
G. L. L.
Write again, certainly. Perhaps youi
letter to her miscarried, .or you nii'sse.
her reply. But if you receive no reply
to this third letter, take the hint lm r
silence gives, and write no more.
HAVE A LITTLE FAITH.
Dear Miss Fairfax:
I am 25 years old and in love with
a young nian of the same age. IL
has declared his love for me, and T
love him very dearly, but I'm nm
free to marry just now. He savs
he will wait until 1 am free to mar
ry, as he feels that he can not lit.
without me. but I know he has
.other women friends on whom he
calls. ■ When I tell him of these
women he will say: "Weil, it's all
for fun. 1 love just you."
JENNIE.
Your lack of faith in him will finaili
make him fickle.
Why not trust him? If he know*
you do not believe him, he will lose q
ambition to be worthy of you.
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