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i 4 illflE filasup^jijnje^ ! 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