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Advice to the
Lovelorn
A RAMBLE WITH EULOGIA
A Love Story of the Old Spanish Missions
By Gertrude Atherton
By BEATRICE FAIRFAX.
I)
I THINK HE DOES.
IK All MISS FAIRFAX:
i am In lo\ e I mM ■ } oung
man Homf flvo yearn ago, who
paid attention to me. but I did
not give him much encourage
ment. an I am a little backward.
1 strayed from him. and every
time lie knew I was around he
would make his appearance, but I
.-till never gave him any hope. It
1 a me to me one day that 1 loved
him 1 wrote him and explained
.ill, and told him I would be in
the same city he was in. He came
to see me and said 1 did no harm
in writing him. On account of
my backwardness, I can not show
him my love. Do you not think
this man loves me and that when
i set s it lit will show his love?
g. p. a. o.
He tried to be attentive to you f or
l ruler the influence of the romances
of Dumas. Kulogia is in love with
Juan The match, however, does not
receive the approval of Dona Pom-
po.sa. who, while Juan is serenading
her daughter, pours hot ashes upon
his head. Tills drives him away and
Kulogia promises that she will have
no more sweethearts until she is six
teen years of age.
When her sixteenth birthday ar
rives Kulogia is taken to a party by
her mother and there meets Don
Pablo ignestria, who she at first dis
dains hut later asks to return to her
city after he has been tailed away.
While she awaits anxiously liis ar
rival she hears that lie lias been mar
ried to a former sweetheart. Her
mother then urges her to marry Don
Hudson, tlie rich American, but Kulo
gia demurs, saying that nothing is
known of him and that she does not
like him. She lias gathered much
year- and you discouraged him. wisdom from the reading of Dumas,
and as she applies this to Don Hud
son. her mother is angry
nder the circumstances. I think ill
, rsistence proves he thinks a groat
eal of you.
Don’t write him again. The next
: ep is up to him.
GO TO HER FATHER.
DAKAR MISS FAIRFAX:
D' i have been going with a
young girl for about two years.
Her father objects to my going
with her under any circumstances
Old wishes hot to go with another
young man whom she dislikes
very much. I have always loved
1;r r and always will. For a w hile
1 though! she cared for me i lit -
tic, but they have moved into . n-
other town, and it seems as if she
i<• I ■ • forgotten me and is going
with other young men (I think
. gainst her will). I have not been
with other girls since 1 met her,
and it seems as il 1 can t forget
her. I don’t intend trying to love
, .my other girl on earth if her love
proves untrue. What would you
do under the circumstances?
BROKEN ARROW.
Her father's objections must be
ivercome. and you can't overcome
hem until jou know what they are.
Io to him like a man. and tell him
vhat you have told me. If you can
.in him. it will be easy to win the
PERHAPS SHE FLIRTS.
T^KAR MISS FAIRFAX
I'm in love
sn i
em
rt
her.
this
lrd for
:0 tO Si <
trange fate w»
riendlv terms.
Oil last, 1 can’t
with a girl.
• reciprocate
,'i brother a
girl. By *■
have kept
How long
sa v.
She
rr y
in) 1
i»me
on
this
«n<
rhis girl went, away recently,
sent us a card. She told him
much she miasjed him and
fl. d tin* time of her return
ns "lo-morrow afternoon.” She
informed m< of the fact that she
had received my card and "sup-
i>o ed ’ slic'd get home "to-mor-
rc,>Difference, isn't there?
L< yVKl.ORN.
Hi r cards sound as if she wants to
keep both of you on her waiting list.
Stand aside and give y our brother a
chance* If that doesn't suit hoi* she
will toon let you know. But. don't. 1
• t ov< oi th*. t me be
tween you and him.
DON’T MARRY WITHOUT LOVE.
nKAR MISS FAIRFAX
I
am nineteen and crazy in
love with a man twenty-three.
For four months he was devoted
to me, showing by his manner he
loved me, hut never mentioning
a word.
He then went away and wo
i orrespondod. He said he would
be ready to be marl red in three
y ears and asked me my future in
tentions. At last he quit writing.
Lately 1 met a wealthy man who
wants me to marry him, but 1 do
not love him. I love the other
man, w ho is poor.
BROWN EYES.
The first man may be waiting till
he is financially able to cate for
you. You are only nineteen. Wait a
little longer, and don’t make the
tragic mistake of marrying a man you
do not love.
NOT THE WAY TO BEHAVE.
n KAR MISS FAIRFAX:
1 am twenty-five years of
age and engaged to a young lady
•one year my junior. Before our
engagement she had kept com
pany with a young man for al
most one year, but forsook him
for me. Now that he i* paying
attention to her again, not know
ing that we are engaged, do you
think it proper for her to allow
him to Kiss her a*-' before ' Do
- you think she is treating either
one of us right? She always tells
me what transpires between her
, and her old friend. J. J. .1
Sk No, she should not allow him to
kiss her; and if you are wise you
it will insist on announcing your en
gagement. or at hast letting him
Snow it. The girl is not treating
eitln r of \ ou fairly.
D K
VR Ml
i am ;
DON'T TRY
FAIRFAX
of
■n -
Keeping
nian of
had le
mud
young
nets, and I have been
ompany with a young
>f twenty-two summers. I
earned to lov« him very
but lie has turned his back
upon me and has been keeping
company with a young lady of the
satin* place and I would like to
know how 1 can win him.
TROUBLED.
To win lii111 back would require
energy and time that could be bet-
fir invested in your books. Do > ou
not know, my dear, that a lover who
needs winning "back" is not worth
winning ?
A MATTER OF TASTE.
TAMAR MISS FAIRFAX
£ 1 ' When you tak* .i girl ;o the
, theater is it proper to buy her
1 flowers? If so. what flower
would be suitable? J. W.
If man can afford them, flowers a c
thoughtful and pretty remembrance.
In making a selection lie should con
sider her tasfi .
CASTOR IA
For Infants and Children.
The Kind You Hove Always Bought j
3’ears the
Bignat’ore of
Now Go on With the Story.
TODAY’S INSTALLMENT.
"Dost thou never intend to marry?"
demanded Dona Pomposa one day as she
stood over the kitchen stove stirring red
peppers into a saucepan full of lard.
Kulogia was sitting on the table,
swinging her small feet.
"Why do you wish me to marry? I
am well enough as I am. Was Elena
Caatanares so happy with the man who
was made for her that I should hasten
to be a neglected wife? Poor ni>
Klena' Four years, and then consump
tion and deatli. Three children and an
indifferent husband, who was dying of
love when he could not get her!"
"Thou thjnkesi of unhappy mar
riages because thou hast just hoard of
Fiona's death. But there are many
others."
"Did you hoar of the present she
loft her mother?"
"No." Dona Pomposa dropped her
spoon, she dearly loved a bit of gossip
"What was it?"
"You know that a year ago Elena went
home to Los Quervos and begged of
Roberto and Dona Jacoha on her knees
to forgive her, and they did, and wore
glad to do it. Dona Jaeobu was with
her when she was so ill at the last,
and just before she died Klena said.
‘Mother, In that chest you will find a
legacy from nre. It is ail of my own that
I have In the world, and I leave it to
you. Do not take It until I am dead.’
And what do you think It was? The
green hide reata!"
"But Jai oba must have fell as if she
were already in Purgatory?"
"II is said that she grew ten years
older In that night."
Marry an American.
"May the saints be praised, my child
can leave me no such gift. But all men
ure not like Carlo Uastanares I would
have thee marry an American. The>
are smart ami know how to keep the
gold. Remember, I have little now. anti
thou canst not be young forever."
"I have seen no American I would
marry."
"There is Don Abel Hudson."
"I do not trust that man. His longue
anti his face arc handsome, but always
when I meet him I feel a litt’e afraid.
Although il goes away in a minute. The
Senor Dumas says that’s a woman's
instincts"
"To perdition with Senor Dumas! Does
he say that a child’s instincts are bet
ter than her monther’s? Don Abel
j throws away the money like the rocks.
He has the best horses at the races. He
tells me he has a house in Verba
Buena" .
"San Francisco. And I would not live
in that bleak find sandy waste. Did you
notice how he limped at the ball last
night?'*
"No. What of that? But I am not in
love with Don Hudson if thou art so set
against him. It Is true that no one
knows just who he is. now 1 think of it.
1 hail not made up my mind that he was
the husband for thee. But let it be an
American My Kulogia. Kven when they
have no money they will work for it. and
Font Is what no Californian will no" -
Will Bo an Old Maid.
FT Kulogia had run out of the room:
she rarely listened to her mother's
harangues. She draped a rebesa
about her head and went over to the
house of Graciosa la Cruz. Her friend
was sitting by her bedroom window
trimming a yellow satin bedspread with
lace, and Kulogia took up a half finished
sheet and began fastening the drawn
threads into an intricate pattern.
"Only ten days more, my Graciosa."
she said, mischievously. Art thou going
to run back to thy mother in thy night
gown, like Josefitn Olvera?"
"Never will 1 be such a fool, Kulogia,
I have a husband for thee."
"To the tunnel of the mission with
ishamls! 1 shall bp an old maid like
Aunt Anastacia. with black whiskers.”
Graciosa laughed. "Thou wilt marry
and have ten children.
"B> ever> station in the mission 1 w >11
Hunting a Husband
By VIRGINIA TERHUNE VAN DE WATER.
A man had crawled out of the bush near them. His face was black with powder, one arm
hung limp at his side.
B
not' Why bring more women into the
world to suffer?
"Ay, Kulogia! Thou art always ray
ing things. I cannot understa
thou shouldst not think about
ing. But I have a husband fo
He came from Los Angeles thi
ing and is a friend oi my Carl
name is not so preft> -Thomas Garbos
no. There he rides now ."
Kulogia looked out <»f tin* window with
little curiosity. A small young man was
riding down the sin
horse, colored like golden bronze will'
silver mane and la.I. His Huddle wa.
heavily mounted with silver, and h •
spurs were inlaid with gt
ver. The straps of the latter
ed with gleaming metal thre
He wore- u light
embroidered and fringed
soft deerskin dyed a rich «
stamped with Aztec (agios,
at the knee by a white silk <
about the leg, finished with
ver tassels. Ills short ’brer
trimmed with gold lace. As
Graciosa’s eye. be raised his
then rode through the open door of tic
neighboring saloon and to- :, .*d off an
American drink without dismounting
from ids horse.
Kulogia lifted her should; ; "1 like
his saddle and his horse. But lu* is to >
small. Still, a new man is not disa
greeable. When shall 1 meet him?"
"To-night, my Kulogia. lit* goes with
us to Miramar."
The Night of the Ball.
PARTY «f young
that night for a
the home of Dc i
Many a calbellero had
his choice to ride on bis saddle while I
rode the less comfortable uuquera hi
hind, and guided his lmrce with his ar
as near her waist as i.e flat
Pomposa with a small breed unde
wing, started last of all in ti
wagon. The night was caln
was hi git. the party very gay
Abel Hudson and the new-
Thomas Garfiu?. sat on t it
Kulogia. and she amused he
expense of each.
"Don Thomas says teat he i.‘ hand
somer than the men of San Luis." si
said to Hudson. "Do not you think 1.
Is right? See what a beautiful curl 1 ;
mustaehlos have, and what a droop hi
eyelids! And Holy Mary! h< w th
low ribbon becomes his hair! Ay.
Why have you come t * da
of the poor girls of San Luis Obi
"Ah. senorlta." said the little
"il will do their eyes go«
elegant young man from it
they should see my sister
teach them how to dr: ss
their hair."
"Bring bet* to teach u.
for reward vve will mu
modes! husband, such
1 that
San I.u>- Qbisj
u a
imire. Don
Abel.
iarry-
why do you not
boa
si of your s
isters?
♦hree.
Have you none
nor
mother, nor
father,
liiorn-
nor brother? 1
neve
r heard you
speak
II is
»f them. Maybe
yoi
grew alone
out of
Liidcred to the canon
hing. "I am alone,
mati in a strange
son why you are such
Are you never afraid
tely rides over the
at dreadful bandit
> murders whole fam-
k of gold they have
hope yon always carry
A
THE UNIVERSAL ROUTE
By Ella Wheeler Wilcox
A S we Jour:
We see
Like a b
we journey along, with a laugh and a song,
see on youth’s flower-decked slopi.
beacon of light, shining fair on the sight
The beautiful Station of Hope.
But the wheels (»f old Time roil along as we climb,
And our youth speeds away ,«on the voare;
And with hearts that are numb with life's sorrows,
To the mist-covered Station of Tears
%
Sti 1 onward we pass, where the milestones, nuts!
Are the tombs of our dead, to tbe West.
Where glitters and gleams, in the dying sunbeam
The fweet, silent Station of Rest.
A 1 rest is but change, and no grave can estrange
Th( soul from its Parent above:
And. scorning its rod. It soars back to it- God.
To the limitless City of Love.
mules plunging, the vaqueros shouting;
hut the moon glittered like a silvered
snow peak, the wild, green forest was
about them, and even Kulogia grew sen
timental. as Abel Hudson's blue eyes
bent over her’s ar.d his curly head cut
off Dona Pomposa’s view.
Used to Pretty Speeches.
"Dear senorlta," he said, "thy tongue
is very sharp, but thou hast a kind
heart. Hast t-hou no place in it for Abel
Hudson?"
“In the sala, senor, where many oth
ers fire received with mamma and Aunt
Anastacia sitting in the corner."
He laughed. "Thou wilt always jc3l,
bul I will tuke all the rooms and turn
everyone out. even to Dona Pomposa
ar.d Dona Anastacia!"
"And leave me alone with thee! How
1 should yawn!’
"Oh. yes. Dona Coquelta. J am used
to such pretty little speeches. When
thou wouldst begin to yawn T would ride
away, and thu wouldst be glad to see
me when I returned.”
"What wouldst thou bring me from the
mountains, senor?"
Tie looked at her steadily. "Gold, sen-
orita. 1 know of many rich veins. 1 have
■j little canyon suspected by no one else
where I pick out a sackful of gold every
day. Gold makes the life of a beloved
wife very sweet, senorita."
All Were Wet.
"In truth. I should like the gold bet
ter than myself, senor." said Kulogia
frankly. "For. if thou wilt have the
truth—ay! Holy Heaven! this is worse
than the other!"
A lurch, splash ar.d the party with
brill ct ies sprang to the r feet; the
low cart was filling with water. They
had left the canyon and were crossing
a slough: no one had remembered il
would be high tide.
The girls, without an instant’s hesi
tation, whipped their gowns up, hut their
feet were wet, and their skirts were
draggled. They made light of it. how
ever. as they did of everything, ar.d
drove up to Miramar amid high laugh
ter and rattling jests.
Dona Luisa Quijas, a handsome,
shrewd-looking woman, magnificently
gowned in yellow satin, the glare and
sparkle of Jewels on her neck, came
out upon the corridor to meet them.
"What is this? In a wagon of the
country! An accident? Come in, quick!
quick! I will give you clean clothes.
Trust these girls to take cart* of then’
gowns. Mary! What wet feet. Quick!
Quick! This way, or you will have red
noses to-morrow," and she led them
down the corridor, past the windows,
through which they could see the
dancers in the sala, and opened the
door of her new bedroom.
"There, my children, help Your
selves." And she pulled out the ca
pacious drawers of her chest. "All is
at your service.” She lifted out an
armful of dry under clothing, then went
to the door of an adjoining room and
listened with her hand uplifted.
"Didst thou have to lock him up?"
asked Dona Pomposa. as she drew on
a pair of Dona Luisa's silk stockings.
"Yes! Yes! And such a time, my
friend. Thou knowest he swore after
I fooled him the last time, that I should
never have another ball. I was never
meant to Vie bothered with n husband,
and have L not given him three chil
dren. twenty times handsomer than him
self? Is that not enough? By the soul
of St. Luis, the Bishop. I will continue
to promise, and then get absolution at
the mission, but I will not perform. Well,
he was furious, my friend , he had spent
sack of gold on that ball, and he
swore I should never have another. So
this time I invited my guests and told
him nothing. At seven to-night 1 per
suaded him into his room and locked
the door. But Diego had forgotten to
screw* down the window and he got out.
T could not get him back. Pomposa,
and his big no3e was purple with rage.
He swore that he would turn every guest
away from the door, he swore that he
would be taking a bath on the corridor
when they came up. and throw* insults
in their faces. Ay, Pomposa! I went
down on my knees. I thought I should
not have my ball—such cakes as 1 had
made and such salads, but Diego saved
me. He went into Don Polycarpo’s room
and cried "Fire!" Of course the old
man ran there and then we locked him
in. Diego had screwed down the win
dows first. What have I done to lie
punished with hint?
"Thou art too handsome and loo cruel,
my Luisa. But in truth he is an old
wild eal. The Saints be praised that
he is safe for the night! Did he swear?
"Swear! He has cursed the skin off
his coat, and is quiet now. Come, my
little one, art thou ready? The Cabal
leros are dry in Diego’s clothes by this
time, and waiting for their waltzes,"
and she drove them through the uoor
into the salon with a triumphant smile
on her dark, sparkling face.
T
To Be Continued To-morrow.
Humanisms
A misfit truth is the worst of all lie .
The average
off tiie stage.
woman is
\ good neighbor is as
as a bad one isn't.
treat a hi ess in;
The poorer a man is the less likely he
is to be called a grafter.
Men are reasonably certain about the
age of a woman of uncertain age.
Fcr every patient that swears by a
doctor at least a dozen swears at him.
Occasionally a couple marry and live
happily ever after they are divorced.
A rose by any other name would smell
as sweet and cost as much when out
of season.
It’s awfully hard to be popular with
yourself and please your neighbors a;
the same time.
When the average man fails to make
good he begins to look around for some
one to blame it oi..
"*%HK ten days before Robert May
nard’s wedding passed dully and
monotonously for Beatrice Minor.
Helen Robbins had changed her plans
about coming to town, although she
would run in for the wedding, she ex
plained when the widow telephoned her.
Pleasanton was so lovely in its autumn
foliage that she and John had decided
to slay on indefinitely. She appended
to this announcement an invitation to
her friend to run out for a few days
and enjoy the brilliant October weather.
Helen never held resentment long, and
had evidently forgotten her recent tele
phonic snub. But Beatrice declined the
Invitation hastily. She did not want to
visit 'Helen’s country house just now.
She had time to regret her precipi
tate refusal during the following days.
At the end of a week her loneliness
and isolation were telling on Iter nerves.
The children had returned to kinder
garten. and when school hours were over
they played out-of-doors with some
older children, with whom they were
safe.
Walked for Duty’s Sake.
Much of their mother’s time was spent
in the apartment with only Mary for
company. Each afternoon she went out
for a walk from a sense of duty, and.
once, Dr. Haynes came by and took
her for a short spin into Westchester,
but he was busy and she saw- him sel
dom.
She read until her eyes ached, and
sewed until they smarted again. She
listened to her children’s prattle w*hen
they were in the house, and. when they
were absent, to Mary’s gossip concern
ing the other families with whom she
had lived.
She rose in the morning with no thrill
of anticipation and went to bed at night
with gratitude that in sleep, at least,
she would have peace.
The monotonous life of a great city
where she seemed just now to have no
friends whom she cared to see, oppressed
her. and sometimes she longed for the
summer days in Pleasanton, w*here. at
least, something interesting had hap
pened.
Lacy Wrote Less Often.
Keith Lacy wrote her less often than
his role of an ardent lover would war
rant, but bis bright letters were an
event in the woman's humdrum life
She answered them gladly and with
more warmth than she might have used
had she been less idle and depressed.
She even mistook her loneliness for a
desire to see her absent suitor.
As fcr Paul Maynard, Beatrice knew
that lie was improving slowly, and that
he would not be severely disfigured.
That was all. Twice when she called
up his nurse at the hospital Dr. Yeager
had taken the attendant's place at the
telephone, and. the second time, had
given such brusque replies to her fal
tered queries that she hung the receiver
i:j», flushed ami angrj, with the deter
mination in her heart to forget Paul,
whdlly and forever.
This she tried to persuade herself she
had done, yet she would sit motionless,
with her boo'-: or sey^ing lying idle in
her lap. for a half-hour at a lime, a
wistful, abstracted look on her face, and
iglits on the man she v.-as try-
orget.
ught at first that she
Robert Maynard’s
the days crawled by
duller, she began to
Ic’irg, of the people
he would see there, and. still more,
f the dress she might wear upon that
ccasicn. She had a litle money left
fire insurance, and, though
resolved to put it away in
;, the thought of the new* cos-
e might purchase with it was
h for her resolution.
Beatrice had t
would net atte
marriage, but a
and her Ilf
'row
thu
her
Ail I#
isgivings Fled.
The
vess that she finally
bought at
"a spe
cial sale" cost more
than she
could c
fiord, and she suffered
qualms at
the re
collection of her extravagance.
But wl
on the costume came
home, and
she tr
ed it on* before her
mirror, all
mo to see you and urge you to come to
our wedding.”
Beatrice assured her that she intend
ed to be present at the ceremony.
"I have never bad a chance to thank
you," prattled on the bride-elect, "for
your kindness to my dear boy in the
past He has spoken of you very often."
"I am sure that Mr. Maynard repaid
me fully for whatever kindness T was
ever able to show him," replied the wid
ow. enigmatically.
"He is the dearest man in the world,"
declared Miss Damercl. sentimentally.
"The best and the truest."
"A woman should always feel that
about tiic man she is going to marry,
my dear," replied Beatrice gently.
Sat Alone Thinking.
When the happy girl had gone the
lonely woman sal for a time in the dusk,
thinking.
"After all,” she muttered, "a woman
can not be happy—really happy—unless
she is married.”
ller thoughts suddenly turned to '
ICcith Lacy with rtiore warmth rhan she
had ever before felt for him. After a
little she arose and turned on the light
in the darkened room and S|>oke out
her decision.
‘Yes. It would be best," she said,
softly. "I would be happier than 1 am
now*, at least."
A letter lay on the table underneath
the mellow glow* of the lamp. She re
membered now that Mary had laid it
there when she brought in the tea-serv-
icc. She picked it up, and saw with a
sudden thrill that it was from Keith.
"Dear Lady," the letter ran. "you
will be glad to learn that I was mar
ried to-day to the dearest girl in the
world, and that I am very happy. It
has been a case of love at first sight,
and I have written to you because you
have been my dear friend and had un
bounded patience with my futile efforts
to make you care for me as 1 foolishly
thought I wanted you to care. I know
that you will rejoice in my happiness.
You were so kind to me in my boyish
love that I am sure you will rejoice with
me now that you know that real lo\U
has come to me. She is the ‘little sis
ter' of my partner, and has been visit
ing him.
"Always your sincere friend,
"KEITH LACY."
Pure English.
“jV/TY dear. I wish you would speak
■*■*'■* more carefully," said a stickler
for pure English to his wife. “You
say that 'Henry Jones came to this
town from Sunderland.’ Don't you*
see that it would be better to say that
lie ‘came from Sunderland to this
town’?”
"1 don’t sec any difference in the
two expressions." rejoined the lady.
"But there is a difference in the two
expressions:—a rhetorical difference.
You don't hear me make use of such
awkward expressions. By the way. I
have a letter from your fatner in my*
pocket.”
“Oh. dear, is my father in your
pocket?" inquired the. wife. "You
mean that you have in your pocket a
letter from my father."
"Thcri* you go with your little quib
bles! You take a delight in harass
ing me: you arc always taking un a
thread and representing it as a rop 1 *."
"Representing it to be a rope, yoj
mean, dear.”
And then lie grinned a sickly grin
and wished lie had never started F..
discussion.
The Despots.
.Visitor-But why do you intend to
give up your fiat and take a house?
Hostess (wearily) -Because we’d
rather live under an absolute monarchy
than a dual alliance. In a house we
will still have the ecok, but we won't
have the hall porter.
.Inst because a married man does
things his wife wants him to do i
sign that he is stuck on the job.
With the waning of the
Cupid again gets busy ar.d t
pair of green goggles for t!
cred glasses.
th
loneym*
bstUulc
fled as soon as she saw its
)]v glad she had bought
Damerel, Robert May-
called on her late one
misgivings
beauty.
She v. as don
it when Miss
nard's fiancee,
rainy afternoon.
"1 know you are surprised to see me.
and that my calling at this juncture is
:n< st unconventional." Miss riamerel
su'd, after the preliminaries of greet
ing had been exchanged ar.d visitor and
hostess were seated in the cozy living
roon ’ But Robert said that you Were
Successful
in all the numerous ailments caused
by defectives or irregular action of
the organs of digestion and elimi
nation— certain to prevent suffering
and to improve the general health—
!1 alone
ere in the city, and he as.
I
I il
Sold everywhere. la boxe», 10c., 25c.
MMi
anciiis
You
Grea
HearsEs
daemon
of
I
V;y1iLADACHES
• ( TEALGIA
I ■ . • LAGRPPE
On Sunday will be better than ever
Don’t miss it! Order your Sunday
can now!
eiore.
Ameri-
Then you will be sure to get it.
BOTH PHONES MAIN 8090 r