Newspaper Page Text
*
THE
MIAGA2IMJL
How Girls May
Get W ork
By BEATRICE FAIRFAX.
Don't spend all your time think
ing about dress, but for goodness
sake don't go about looking like a
frump. A man is twice as ready
to listen to a girl’s application for
work if she looks pleasant and
dresses neatly.—BEATRICE FAIR
FAX.
T HE other day I met a young wom
an who was looking for em
ployment She corn plained of
having a very hard lime in finding
anything, and as I looked at her I did
npt wonder that she had a hard time.
Such a doleful face you never saw.
No man would ever want so mu-’h
dolefulness facing him every day.
She made not the sllghtes attempt
to beautify herself in any way. Her
qlotliea looked as though she flung
them at herself. Her hair was dressed
In the most unbecoming mafiner pos
sible. and altogether she was an un
attractive looking piece of girlhood.
If I had had the time to talk to her,
1 would have said: "My dear, you
never in the world will get a job while
you look as yoh do now. Perk up a
little bit, look cheerful, dress yourself
decently and then try again.”
Hear this in mind, girls—don't spend
all your time thinking about dress,
but for goodness sake don't go about
looking like frumps.
A man is twice as ready to listen to
a girl's application for work if she
looks pleasant and drosses neatly and
b coiningly.
Men can’t stand doleful women.
They like brightness and cheerfulness.
The girl who always appears willing
■ to attempt whatever work i» set be
fore her is bound to get on.
There is no use in sulking and look
ing abused whenever you are asked to
do extra work. If the request only
comes once in a while. It won’t hurt
you a bit.
When you apply for a position, don’t
brag of what you can do. State your
accomplishments in a straightforward,
modest way, and show that you are
willing to do your best if you get the
chance.
A girl will often be employed sim
ply because she looks willing and
bright. An employer knows that a
cheerful employee has a good effect on
Iter fellow workers.
Don’t start out looking as though
you had not a friend on earth, but put
on your neatest dress and your bright
est look, and see If you don’t And it
easy to find work.
Like a, Motor Car.
\ LARGE German woman held up a
** long line of people at the money
order window in a post office the other
da>. and all because her memory had
tailed. She wanted to send some money
to her son, a sailor on a merchant
steamer then in foreign waters, but
when she presented the application at
tin* window the clerk noticed that the
address was lacking.
“Well, where do you want to send
it?’’ he asked. "We can’t give you the
money order unless you know* the name
A RAMBLE WITH EULOGIA da* w s*** m*** By Gertrude Atherton
What's Gone Before
I’nder the influence of the romances
of Dumas, Eulogla is in love with
•liian. The match, however, d<* - not
receive the approval of Dona^Pom-
posa, who, while Juan is serenading
her daughter, pours hot ashes upon
his head. This drives him away and
Eulogla promises that she will have
no more sweethearts until she is six
teen years of age.
When her sixteenth birthday ar
rives Eulogla is taken to a party by
her mother and there meets Don
Pablo Ignestria, who she at first dis
dains but later asks to return to her
city after he has been called away.
While she awaits anxiously his ar
rival she hears that he has been mar
ried to k former sweetheart. Her
mother then urges her to marry Don
Hudson, the rich American, but Kulo-
gia demurs, saying that nothing is
known of him and that she does not
like him. She has gathered much
wisdom from the reading of Dumas,
and as she applies this to t)on Hud
son, her mother is angry.
Now Go on With the Story.
TODAY’S INSTALLMENT.
"1 fear to break it, senor, for I have
faith that it is made of thin glass. It
would cut my feet. I like better the
smooth floor. Who is that standing by
ihe window “ He lias not danced 1 to
night'.’"
"Don Pablo Ignestria, of Monterey.
He says that the women of San Du is
are not half so beautiful or so elegant
as the women of Monterey; he says
they are too dark and too small. He
does not wish to dance wlih anyone:
nor do any of the girls wish to dance
with him. They are very angry."
"I wish to dance with him. Bring
him to me."
"But, senorita, I tell thee thou
wouldst not like him. Why do those
eyes flash so? Thou lookesi as if thou
wouldst fight with thy little fists."
Don Uarmelo walked obediently over
to Don I ’abio, although burning w ith
jealousy.
"Senor, at your service," he said. "I
wish to Introduce you to t He most
charming senorita in the sala."
"Which?" asked Ignestria, incurious
ly.
He Was Handsome.
Don Carmelo indicated Eulogla with
:i grund sweep of his hand.
"That little thing? Why, there are
a dozen prettier girls in ihe sala than
she, and I have not cared to meet any
of them."
"But she has commanded me to take
you to her, senor, and—look at the men
crowding about her! Do you think I
iro disobey?"
The stranger’s dark eyes became less
insensible. He was a handsome man,
with ids tall figure and smooth, strong
face, but about him hung the indolence
of tho Californian.
“Very well," he said, "take me to
her."
He asked her to dance, and .after a
waltz Kulogia said she was tired and
they sai down within a proper dis
tance of Dona Pomposa’s eagle eye.
"What do you think of the women of
San Luis Obispo?" Eulogla asked Inno
cently. "Are they not handsome?”
of
th
« i.la
•e.”
"They are not
to be
comp
ired
with
mistake
not. throug
i th
ose
bright e>
es."
•v
Ah, d
tit's «
t- troubl
e,"
she replied.
the women of M«
nterey
sine
you
ask
"Yes.
senor, that
is
tru
\ 1
am
not
“1
d
dn’t
l>rtng
his
let t
c-r.
and 1 can't
me."
content
to be just
like <
ther
Klii
of
re
me
m her
tier
name
of
der town, but
"Because they
find th
e mr
n -of
San
sixteen.
I want
to
kno
w—t
» k.
ow!
it
ome
place
out 0
f China
dot sounds
Luis more gallan
than
the Senor
Don
Have yo
u ever rea<
at
y b
ioks.
sen
Dr?"
111
0
der noise
i mo
tor
car
makes.”
I‘nhlt> Ignestria!"
“Manj
He lor
ked
at
her
wit
h a
Th
e twe
cler
<s lo
>ket
at
each other
"Do they? On
\ I be
ieve,
askc
d to
very liv
cly interest
no
w.
"W
hat
>nes
di
bit
>ualy.
have me introduce
Ml to h
t\'*'
have yo
i read?"
“\\
’hat
kir.tl
>f ti
no la
e d
>es a motor
"True, senor.
wishe
1 to
meet
you,
“Only
the beauti
ful
rom
a nee
s of
the
ea
r t
take'
" ask
•ti on
e.
that the ladies of
San L
uis n
l(ht
have
Senor D
umas. I 1
ave
set
n m
ot 1
ers,
"H
onk.
honk!
ges
ted
the other
their vengeance."
for ther
e arc not
mat
ly
looks
in
San
“ Y
ih, d
it's it
" ex
Maimed
the woman.
He stared at her
Luis. 1
ave you re
ad
)tht
rs?"
•He
>nk k
ink,''
dot's
do
pint
e!"
"Truly, senorita
. but j
ou th
not
hide
"A Rr
»at many c.
her
s.
Two
won
!er-
"F
ill it
in
ioilK
K
ong.
" said tlie
your cards. And
why.
then.
should I
ful Spai
fish I - <
•[».
V l
uixo
to d
cl
ilk
; ant
she
>aid
ve
be
r money.
fall in love with
you?”
Mancha’
and ‘Gil
Bla
s,' and
ihe
ro-
She sat in the deep window seat watching the waves of the Pacific hull themselves
against the cliffs.
"Because I am different from the
women of Monterey."
‘ And If I Hate You?”
ii /\ HOOD reason why I should
A-\ not. 1 have been in every
town in California, and I ad
mire no women but those of my city."
"And because you will hate me first.”
"And.jf 1 hate you how can 1 love
you?"
"It is the same. You hate one woman
and love another. Each is the same
passion, only to a different person. Let
the person loved, or hater^ change his
nature, and the passion will change."
He looked at her with more interest.
"In truth, I think I shall begin with
love and end with hate, senorita. But
that wisdom was not born in that little
head, for sixteen years, I think, have
not sped over it—r.o? It went in, if 1
m.ssacmsmK
Gel Ike Syrup Habit-
It’s Good For You
Velva Syrup Is more than a mere
sweet. IPs a fine, wholesome, health
ful food. It’s just what growing
children need — and it’s good for
grown-ups, too. Earnest, careful
scientists have long ago exploded
the mossy idea that sweets arc
harmful — and they tell you that
sweets are necessary. You’ll find
* ir
the syrup with the RED LABEL, fine. It
has the smoothest ot sugary flavor and
rich color. It makes candies, fudge,
cakes and cookies that jjust melt in one’s
mouth. It goes great with griddle cakes
and it will make your good muffins,
waffles and biscuits better. Try i! and
see if this isnt’t so. Ten cents and up,
according to size. Velva in the green
can. too, at your grocer’s. Send for the
book of Velva recipes. No charge.
PENICK & FORD, Ud.
New Orleans. La.
11
i
manecs of Sir Walter Scott—-a man of
England, and some famous man. seno
rita. A great man lent them to me—
tho greatest of our governors—Alva
rado."
"And you will lend them to me?"
cried Eulogla, forgetting her coquetry.
"I want to read them.” ^
Her Eyes Make Him Consent.
"Aha! Tl:< sc cool eyes can flash.
That even little voice can break in two.
Thou shalt have every book I possess."
"Will the Senorita Done Eulogla favor
tiaf with a song?"
I n p Carmelo was bowing before her,
«i ;;nitar in his hand, his wrathful eyes
lixed upon D< n Pablo.
"Yes,” said Kulogia.
: 1 <5 tool the guitar and sang a love
song in a manner which can best be
(!■ eribed as no manner at all—her ex-
i it ■ sion never changed, her voice never
warmed. At first the effect was fiat,
then the subtle fascination of it grew
until the very memory of impassioned
tones seemed florid and surfeiting.
Wi < n I f finished Igr.estria’s heart was
.hammering upon the steel in which he
had prisoned it.
"Well,” : aid Kulogia to Padre Moraga
two weeks later, "An I not la favorita?’ -
"Thou art, thou little coquette. Thou
hast the power over men which thou
r.,u t use with discretion, my Kulogia.
' ell th> beads three times a day' and
pray that mayest do no harm."
“1 wish to do harm, my father, for
n or. have broken the hearts of women
for ages "
"Chut, chut, thou baby! Men are not
so black as they are painted. Harm
j no one and tho world will he better
that thou hast lived in it."
"if I scratch fewer women will he
| erntehed," and she raised her shoulders
i henta.li the fiowered muslin of her
, v.ti swung her guitar under her arm
I and walked down the grove, the silver
leaves shining above her hair.
I The padre had bidden all the young
i people - f the upper class to a picnic
j in the old mission garden. Girls in gay
• muslins and silk reboSas were sitting
beneath the arches (f the corridor or
flittfrg under the trees where the yel-
" apricots hung among the green
leaves. Languid and sparkling faces
coquetted with caballercs in bright cali-
i i .» jackets hi d knee breeches laced with
j silken cord, their slender waist girthed
! I y* ith long sashes, hanging gracefully
' vcr ihe hip. The water rippled in a
winding creek, the birds caroled in the
trees; but above all rose the sound of
light laughter and sweet, strong voices.
They took their dinner behind the
arches at a table the length of the
corridor, and two of the young men
played the guitar and sang while the
others delighted their keen palates with
the goods the padre had provided.
‘'Shall I Return?”
Don Pablo, sat by Kulogia, a plaoe
he managed to fill very often; but he
had never seen her for a moment alone.
"I must go soon, Eulogla," he mur
mured, as the voices waxed louder.
“Duty calls me back to Monterey."
"I am glad to know that thou hast
a sense of ihy duty."
"Nothing but that would take me
away from San Luis Obispo. But both
my mother and—and—a dear friend are
ill and wish to see me."
"Thou must go to-night. How canst
thou eat and be gay when thy mother
and—and—a dear friend are 111?"
"Ay, Kulogia! Wouldst thou scoff
over my grave? I go, but it is for thee
to say if 1 return."
"Do not tell me that thou adorest
me here at the table. I shall blush,
and all will be about my smarting ears
like the bees down in the padre’s hive."
"I shall not tell thee that before all
the world. Kulogia, all I ask Is this
little favor; I shall send thee a letter
the night I leave. Promise me that
thou wilt answer it - to Monterey."
"No, sir! Long ago, when I was
twelve, I made a* vow I would never
write to a man. 1 never shall break
that vow."
"Thou wilt break it for me, Eulogla."
"And why for you. senor? Half the
trouble in the world has been made
on pa par."
"Oh, thou wise one! What trouble
can a piece of paper make when it lies
on a man’s heart?"
"It can crackle when another head
lien cn it."
"No head will never lie here but"
"Mine?”
"Kulogia!”
"To thee. Senorita Dcna Elogia."
cried a deep voice. "May the jewels in
thine eyes shine by the stars when thou
art above them while they shine for
us below.” and a caballero pushed back
j in his chair, leaned forward and touch
ed her glass with his. then went down
on one knee and drank the ~ed wine.
1 Kulogia threw him a ill tie absent
A Foxy Farmer’s Fortune
By MALCOLM DOUGLAS.
w-
!OTK3K»MPai'-.Aa MvI-SiC- •
VF.I. \ A NUr ICE CREAM
3-4 cupful Red \'*?Va Syrup. 2 cupfulr
scalded milk, 1 /ai f*poen/W flcnr, l-4
cupfnl sugar, / 'ft. pinch of salt. 'J quay's »
cream, I cupful chopped Engl'*h u -jfni t >
meats. / t*aspconf ul almond extract. I
-nnfirt rose extract.
Brat up the egc u ;f S the flour and rugc', i.
and gradually add the mitk Cook for L'O
mir.ute* in it double boiler, sttnin? c?i- ’!
standv. Coo/ and add the sy r i .*«»it, • '
nuts, cream and the extracts, and ; tc zt U
Serve in dainty dishes with a preserved v
cherry on top of each.
uM : NV " said old Farmer Biggs, "is the stubbornest things I raise;
V'ney set, an’ set, an’ se:, until they’re sot in their ways;
T :<•> ain’t got watches to toll the time, but know when the day’s begun
When th rooster with his *ur-ruh-huh-huh!’ keeps holierin’ at the sun.
"Hen’s as a Labor Union which says that a hen kin lay
Jest < . ■ -fur her boss, an’ only one egg a day;
An’ there's strikes an’ there’s agitations that start along in the fall.
An’ hens th : s out on a strike don’t lay any eggs at all.
"I'd; I’ve ' it on a ’.eotle ijee that acts on ’em like a charm.
\r. ’ iho bieg-st profit I’m gittin’ now from the farm;
V ::i’e neighbors o’ mine’s complainin’ that eggs with ’em is skeerse,
My foolish, deluded pullets is lavin’ ’em somethin’ fierce.
lb- painted ny henhouse ceilin’ to make it look like the sky.
With great big ’leetric sun a-glimerin’ up on high:
• >»hot out the light completely. ,tn\ jest bv pullin’ a switch.
1 in have it bright as noonday or make it ns black as pitch.
smile, pipped her wine, and went on
talking to Ignestria in her soft, monot
onous voice.
"My friend—Graciosa la Cruz—went
a few weeks ago to Monterey for a
visit. You will tell her I think of her
—no?”
As Stubborn as Pretty.
"I will dance with ner often because
she Is your friend—until I return to
San Luis Obispo."
"Will that be soon, senor?"
"I told thee that would be as soon as
thou wished. Thou wilt answer my let
ter—promise me, Kulogia."
"I will not, senor. I Intend to be wiser
than other women. At the very least
my follies shall not burn paper. If
thou wantest an answer thou wilt re
turn."
"I will not return without that an
swer. I can never see thee alone, and
if I could any coquetry' would not give
me a plaint answer. I must see it on
paper before I will believe."
"Thou canst wait for the day of resur
rection for thy knowledge, then!"
O NCE more Aunt Anastacia rolled
her large figure through Eulogia’s
way and handed her a letter.
"From Don Pablo Ignestria, my baby,"
she said. "Oh, what a man! What a ca
ballero! And so smart! He waite’d an
hour by the creek in ihe mission gardens
until he saw thy mother go out, and then
he brought the note to me. He begged
to see thee, but I dared not grant that,
for thy mother will be back in ten min
utes."
"Go down stairs and keep my mother
there," commanded Kulogia. and Aunt
Anastacia rolled off. while her niece
with unwonted nervousness opened the
letter.
"Sweet of my soul! Star of my life!
I dare not speak to thee of love, be
cause, strong man as I am, still am I
a coward before those mocking eyes.
Therefore, if thou laugh the first time
thou readest that I love thee, I shall
not see It, and the second time thou
mayest be more kind.
“Beautiful and idolized Eulogia. men
have loved thee, but never w’ill be cast
at thy little feet a heart stronger or
truer than mine. Aye, dueno a dorado!
1 love thee without hope? No; I believe
that thou lovesi me, thou cold little one,
although thou dost not like to think that
thy heart thou hast sealed can open to
let love in. But, Eulogia, star of my
eyes! I love thee so that I will break that
heart in pieces, and give thee another
so soft and warm that it will be all
through the old house to which I will
take thee. For thou wilt come to me,
thou little coquette! Thou wilt write to
me to come back and stand with thee in
the mission while the good padre asks
the saints to bless us? Eulogia! Thou
hast sworn thou wilt write to no man,
but thou wilt write to me, my little one.
Thou wilt not break the heart that lives
in thine. I kiss thy little feet. I kiss thy
tiny hands. I kiss—ay, Eulogia! Adios 1
Adios! E ABLO.
She Tells Him to Come.
Eulogla could not resist that letter.
Her scruples vanished, and, after an en
tire day of agonizing composition, she
sent these lines:
"You can come back to San Luis
Obispo.
"EULOGIA AMATA FRANCISCA
GUADALUPE YBARRO."
Another year passed. No answer
came from Pablo Ignestria. Nor did
he return to San Luis Obispo. Two
months after Eulogia had seni her
letter she received one from Grociosa
la Cruz, containing the information
that Ignestria had married ihe invalid
girl whose love for him was the talk
of Monterey for many years. And
Eulogia? Her flirtations earned her
far and wide the title of Dona Coquet-
ta, and she was cooler, calmer and
more audacious than ever.
To Be Continued To-morrcw.
ELLA WHEELER WILCOX:
LETTERS TO GIRLS
This Is Number III in the Series and Is Ad
dressed to a Girl Who Is Sorry Jor Herself.
By ELLA WHEELER WILCOX.
(Copyright, 1913, by Journal-American-
Exa miner.)
NUMBER IN.
/■ no A GIRL who is sorry for her-
| self:
Your letter shows me / not
how badly Fate treats you, but how
badly you are treating yourself.
You are standing outside of your
self, and making a mental pieture of
misery and neglect, and sorrow', of
loneliness and heart hunger- and
weeping over it.
That is the easiest and the weakest
thing a mortal can do.
I doubt if a human being lives, no
matter how' seemingly fortunate and
to be envied, who could not find a
whole chapter of miseries to mourn
over, if he or she chose to turn over
the leaves of life’s book to that par
ticular page.
In every life there is always some
thing which might be bettered.
One person likes his environments,
but hates his occupation; another
likes his work, but dislikes his envi
ronment; one wants the city; another
wants the country; and so on ad in
finitum.
You feel you are particularly un
fortunate in not having a harmonious
home; in not having more compan
ionship with people who are con
genial. and in having a great m^ny
material w’orries.
Life a Serious Thing.
You carry always a face of sorrow'
and a look of sadness; and you tell
me life grows more and more a very
serious thing to you.
You are meantime forgetting that
you are blest with health; that you
are in possession of all your faculties;
that you are not crippled or bedrid
den; and that you are pursuing an
occupation which you like.
You breathe good fresh air in your
home; you are not shut up in a tene
ment house; you are not confined in
a factory all day; and you are not
starved for good food.
Why, iny dear girl, with such a list
of things which could make life hard
indeed for one left out of what fate
gives you, it seems to me your days
should be one paean of thanks to God,
and one prayer for voice and words
to praise Him for His manifold bless
ings.
In the same post with your letter
came one from a girl who is totally
deaf; and who has lost both lower
limbs; and she writes me that she
has had a very pleasant time, enjoy
ing the outdoor life and the kind
attention of good friends; and that
: he has been studying and growing.
Does not that make you ashamed
of yourself?
It ought to.
Try for Harmony.
An inharmonious home is indeed a
great trouble: but the only thing for
one to do who suffers from such a
cause is to HE ONE NOTE OF HAR
MONY IN THE RECORDS.
Speak the silent word of love to
each member of the family; say
“Peace, He Still" to the troubled do
mestic ocean, and by every thought,
word and act set the example of
harmony.
Miracles have been wrought by one
loving, patient soul in a home of
many wrangling minds.
Refuse to quarrel; refuse to be sul-
| len; refuse to be sarcastic: and by
j the example of love and kindness, and
good cheer, shame the other members
j of the household into better be-
ha^or.
Then, if they continue to be dis
agreeable, speak the word of FREE-
DOM to your own soul; and picture
to yourself a life apart from the fam
ily.
It will come to you if you live in a
way deserving of this freedom.
It will come either by a change in
the people who make the discord or
in your change to other surroundings
It can never come while you are
pitying yourself.
Self Pity is Weakness.
Self-pity is weakness and a waste
of mental force.
It is a great weakness of character
to continually crave pity and sym
pathy; and to want people to be sorry
for you.
Just as well might every pupil who
is given a lesson ask all the teachers
and all the other scholars to be
“sorry,” and bestow sympathy.
We tire placed in this world where
i our actions and thoughts in other*
i lives direct our path; and we are
here to build character and learn the
power which lies in our minds to
change present conditions and shape
a better future.
We can never do this by con
stantly mourning over our situation.
For such feelings waste our energies
j and prevent constructive processes of
j thought.
Thank God for Trouble.
Begin right now, to-day, my dear
girl, to thank God for whatever has
come to you; thank Him for trouble
and sorrow; and ask Him to show
you the way to transmute these
things into a strong, helpful, charac
ter; and to give you the power to
work up, and out, of all conditions
which are distasteful to you. This
is your work; and you alone can do
it.
Then look about you for things to
rejoice over; and think and talk of
these; and allow no one to be sorry
for you.
Stand before your ltiirror and laugh
every day for five minutes; and when
you feel the corners of your mouth
turnirtg down bring them UP—and
laugh again.
And before very long you will dis-
j cover that you are no longer to be
pitied, but to be congratulated.
For you will have made a new
heaven and a new earth for your
self.
Do You Know—
Up-to-Date Jokes
Germany, according to the religious!
statistics of tit® Empire, has an incres^l
| ing number of persons without any re-f
j ligious profession. The number has;
! grown from 17,000 in 1907 to nearly|
306,000.
* * ♦
Astronomical observations were car-1
on in China so long as the year|
2352 B. C.
* # * _
Suffrage was granted to women :*|
the Commonwealth of Australia in 19011
* * *
The average strength of a woman!
compared with that of a man is as C|
to 100.
Served Him Right. -
"I am the unluckiest man alive'."
"What’s the matter?"
“Why, I heard that Muriel was er.*|
gaged, so I went round and propc
to her, so that she wouldn’t think I|
had been trifling with her."
"And wasn’t she engaged?”
"Yes; but slie broke it off. She saidl
my love was more sincere than the other|
fellow’s."
‘ Wh«
ram ■m'vl ^ r
ggegaWMilfWTyy-. ,7^ - :
■ ”< '. is finished :>-lav’n* I turn off the 'lertric 'ieht.
! \> t<> tW’r roost, a’-s’ncsin’. of course, it's right:
• n :'>o p-»n »2 ,; n. an' they git the rram^ from their leg?,
m ‘! - fi-r’s come. thev#tart in a-iayin’ eggs.
♦ *'e r'-'sts. on’ it’s off ,»g**r. r*M o-> a*'* of* etr’in:
>n T'O o -'r*. ’ Union but I’m n r*- kin’ ’em pH like c : n;
v “'”° in’ n e'n-rip pec. whv. n-oh m*- hens will la'
•i -'in' ?’• ioh r< hisrh a<* •evptv ears *» da'*!"
V/fR. CLOSELY (snappishly)—I be-
lieve you’d stand before a mirror
all day doing nothing but changing your
dresses.
Mrs. Closely (dreamily)—Perhaps 1
w'ould if 1 had the dresses.
Clara—I have been to the theater
every night this week, and had a dif
ferent escort each time.
Fred—You should be mere cautious,
my dear Miss Clara.
Clara—Cautious?
Fred—Y'es; or ill-natured people will
be saying that you can’t get the same
man to go with you twice.
"Mother," said an exasperated young
lady, "I wish you- would not hang that
old parrot up in the parlor."
"Why not. my dear?” asked her
mother.
"Why, T think he must have belonged
to a street car conductor before you
bought him. Every two or three minutes
w'hen Edwin is here he chirps out, ‘Sit
closer, please.’ It is too embarrassing
for anything. "
A Sunday school teacher had,just told
the story of Dives and Lazarus to his
class, and at the close of the lesson he
asked:
"Now. boys, which would you prefer
to be?"
One smart lad replied quickly.
"I’d like to be the rich man while I
lived and Lazarus when I am dead."
"Why, the size of your bill," cried
the angry patient to the doctor,
“makes me boil all over!"
"Ah!” said the eminent praetioner.
calmly, "that will be two guineas
more for sterilizing your system.”
"I want you to understand that I
got my money by hard work."
"Why, I thought it was left you
by your uncle.”
"So it was; but l had hard work
getting it away from the lawyers."
Hewitt—Gruet has lost all hi?
money.
Jewett—But I thought lie was t
Napoleon of finance.
Hewitt—He was. but he met a Wel
lington.
"What relation are y«>u to the p:;.--
oner?" asked the magistrate of tie
witness.
"Next-door neighbor,
prompt reply.
Strengthening Food for Hard Workers
It isn't necessary to eat a lot of meat to nourish and
sustain your body. It is a positive fact—ask your
doctor—that there is more real nutrition in a 5c pack
age of Faust Macaroni than in 2 lbs. of beef at 12 times
that price. You get more nutrition—better
cheaper living when you eat
eating
MACARONI
Made from Durum wheat, a cereal
extremely rich in gluten—a bone,
muscle and flesh builder. Put up
in air-tight, moisture-proof
package—write for free
recipe book showing
how many delicious
ways there are
for serving Faust
Macaroni.
At alt grocers —
5c and 10c
packages.
MAIL! BUDS.
Si. Louis,
IHo.
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