Newspaper Page Text
By WILLIAM F. KIRK.
EORGE,” said the Manicure
I •» Lady, “I ain’t felt so romantic
as I have this forenoon for a
long time. I don’t suppose barbers ever
feels very tender like and pensive ex
cept when some Joe with a hard beard
gets shaved twice over and gives them
no tip. But it is different with me,
George. You wouldn’t believe it, would
you, if I told you I can hear robbins
whistling for rain and doves cooing for
their mates even if I am sitting at a
manicure table right down here in the
heart of the Tenderloin. The way I feel
this morning there is a golden haze
around the sun and purple edges to all
them clouds that floats fleecy-like over
head.”
“What’s all this about?” the head bar
ber wanted to know. “It must be ro
mance or hop. 1 never heard you get
gushy before. You look kinda pale, too,
1-Ciddo. You had better try going to
bed early and gitting up early for a
week, and eat plenty of celery to keep
your nerves good.”
“Well, George, I might as well tell
you that I do feel kinder romantic this
forenoon, the first time since that fel
low over in Decatur proposed to me and
shattered love’s dream by copping one
of Sister Marne’s rings off from the
dresser and never returning to our hum
ble abode. That was years ago, George,
and just as the scar was healing over,
here I go and get sentimental again.”
“Who is it this time?” asked the Head
Barber.
In Love With a Book.
“It ain’t no fellow,” answered the
Manicure Lady. “It’s a book that I
was reading last, nigjit. Brother Wilfred
was reading it down at the Carnegie
Library and when nobody was looking
be stuck it under his coat and mooched
home with it. It was worth the risk,
George. It’s one of the grandest books
I have ever saw*. The name of it is
Famous Loves of History.’ It tells all
about Napoleon and Josephine and about
a young fellow named Paris that fell in
love with a girl named Helen that used
to live in Troy, N. Y., and it tells about
Anthony and Cleopatra and how Mr. An
thony lost the Roman Umpire by staying
in Egypt so long that his wife had to
go to Reno or some place like that to
get a divorce.”
“I never was much on those ro
mances,’’ said the Head Barber. “The
way butter and eggs is selling now, it
takes all the mental 'rithmetic to keep
Mary and the children. When you goi
to live four flights up without no ele
vator and git most of your eatables at
a delicatessen store, love’s young dream
gits kinda frazzled around the edges.”
“But just the same,” insisted the
Manicure Lady, “I think that a girl or
a gent can forgit their surroundings
when they set down with the book like
that ‘Famous Loves’ book. Gee. George,
when I was reading about that brave
>oung Paris stealing a King’s w ife awaj
and taking her up-State to Troy, it
made me wish that some fellow wuuld
come down from the Blue Ridge and
kidnap me away from my father's roof
Of course it would hurt the old gent a
lot. because with my earning capacity,
I am the only pillar up home on which
they lean on. The old gent wouldn’t
care if somebody came along and kid
naped Brother Wilfred, because the
poor boy is as far from a job as he has
ever been in all his bright young ca
reer. It was only last night he nicked
father’s bank roll for a case note, the
last one he will get for some time, as
the old gent has sworn off getting mel
low.”
•T don't see anything very romantic
about stealing the King’s wife or an\
other man’s wife,” said the head barber.
Wanted to Be “Stole.”
“Don’t you?” said the Manicure Lady.
"Gee. I think it must have been simply
grand to have lived in them days and
to have been stole by some guy with a
little nerve like that Paris fellow. And
the book told about Romeo and Juliet.
“I was thinking. George, that it 1
could have a handsome young follow like
Romeo put a ladder up against our front
porch and whisper words of love ’ no
1 would accept his proposal of mairiagi
and beat down the ladder with him
quick before the porch broke.
“Napoleon and Josephine had an
awful sweet love, so the book says. Th<
story tells how much that great general
loved his queen and how much she
loved him until things commenced
breaking bad for him and he lost out
in that awful retreat from Waterloo and
the battle of Bunker Mill. <»r whatever
was the name of that tight ho lost :
Duke Wellington and his German s<*i-
dlers. There ain’t no love like that ia
more. George. When a young fellow-
wants to get married nowadays he
starts saving up mntil he has mon»\\
enough to buy a lrouse and lot in West
End and -when he proposes and gels
turned down he takes the money and
loses it playing poker. There ain't even
such love as our fathers and mothers
used to have.
“Every once and a while when the
old gent comes home from lodge with
his feet well apart and a kinda balmy
look on his map 1 can hear him remind
ing mother of how they used to walk
along them lilac-bordered lanes, plight
ing their troth ■ over and over again
Nobody plights no troths nowadays.
George, until the young girl’s folks has
got a report on the young gent from
Duns and Bradstreets.
“The more I think about them beau
tiful old Romances which can never b.
no more, the more 1 wisht I had lived
then instead of now.”
“Tf you're going to keep on harping
ihe way you started out this morning,’
said the Mead Barber, “it wouldn’t hurt
my feelings if you had lived then in
stead of now, just so I didn't have to
live then, too, and be in the same shop
with you. Here comes the nervous cus
tomer that never likes to hear women
alk. Humor him, Kid, humor him. ’
SPRINGTIME
Copyright. 191U, by Journal-Amer-
ioan-Kxa miner.
By Nell Brinkley
What the Newly ,
Wed Should Know
FIRST: —Le am to Cook
This is the first of a series of articles prepared bv Mar
garet Hubbard Ayer, who has been commissioned by The Geor
gian to discuss the problems of newly married people with
experts in various departments of household economy.
'.m
11
By MARGARET HUBBARD AYER.
“Just Saij”
HORLICK’S
It Means
Original and Genuine
MALTED MILK
The Food-diink for All Ages.
More healthful than Tea or Coffee.
Agrees with the weakest digestion.
Delicious, invigorating & nutritious.
Rich milk, malted grain, powder form.
A quick lunch prepared in a minule.
Take nosubstitute. Ask fcrHORLICK’S
Others are imitations.
Daysey Mayme
And Her Foiks
By FRANCES L. GARSIDE.
U tHEN Lvsander John Appleton
was a young man, and unat
tached, he found life very gay.
He was invited to all the parties,
j and he took every new girl who came
1 to his town out to look at the moon.
Me was so popular that the third time
j he mot a girl she would pick the lint
; off his coat.
Then he became engaged, and his
popularity became like that of a cold
j buckwheat cake.
Then ho got married, and the only
; envelopes he received in a woman’s
; hand were sent by the girl book
keepers in the employ of the grocer
| and the butcher.
His wife did not forget his exist -
| ence, remembering it dutifully when
Mhere was one more guest than the
I game >f cards required, or when she
had a guest who was very hard of
1 hearing.
Occasionally, too. she would ask
| him to escort one <»f her kin home.
His duties as Kin Commissioner-
| General only tended to increase his
unpopularity. A decision that when
| a woman’s kin guest goes home her
husband has a right to see what she
j is taking in her trunk made him so
■ unpopular among the women that
thereafter every invitation Mrs. Ly-
! sander John Appleton received care-
j fully excluded her husband.
All of this explains his joy the
j o t her evening when a special messen-
! ger appeared at the door with an in
vitation for him!
lie was not completely forgotten!
I At last he was to have another taste
of society, so steadfastly forbidden
the father of a family. ^
“What is the invitation to?” asked
! his wife. But he was so excited in
j looking for his ties where his socks
were kept, and his gloves in his hand-
j kerchief box, he did not reply.
He hummed gayly, and he whistled
| right merrily, stopping between turn s
! to tell his wife he would be gone all
night.
"Gone all night!” How strangely
sweet the words sounded! He re-
| peated them exultantly. He would
be gone all night! No one need sit
I up for him! What reckless freedom
the words implied!
He whistled louder and more mer
rily. He was wildly excited over the
welcome change that was coming into
I the monotony of his life as a married
man.
Then, as he started out the door
, with the step and bearing of a man
half his years, he told his wife where
; he was going.
True, it was an invitation to sit up
with the dead, but it was the first
j invitation of any kind he had received
in seventeen years!
Are You h
ELLA WHEELER
appy? If .
WILCOX Tells T
Not, Wl
low to Gain
iy Not?
Joys of Life
The Retort Courteous.
Sharpson—Phlatz, wnat makes your
nose so red?
Phlatz—It glows with pride because
it never pokes itself into other peo
ple’s business.
After Effects.
Banks-- 1 don’t mind the influenza
itself so much—it’s the after effects
1’in afraid of.
Riners—The after effects is what
ails me. I’m still dodging the doctor
lor $25, . .A
I T’S springtime in Atlanta. Out
of the back-swung door of
her car Miss Atlanta, who is
a woman most thoroughbred and
fair, steps to the gray curb. She
is garbed in all the grotesquerie
of looped skirt. Elizabeth frill,
tortured cockade and sack coat
with the belt at the hips, and a
riot of tender flowers from those
shops with the extra shiny win
dows and the sweet-smelly door
ways.
It’s springtime in the far South
west. Tliu sea is as bide as the
aquamarine that rests in the
hollow at the root of your sweet
heart’s throat. Over all the val
leys and hills it casts a dreamy
light. The far islands lie like a
dream on the
that sweep tc
horizon,
he sea
The hills
ivid
with lovely uplands of green bar
ley and ablaze w ith seas of golden
poppies. All this—peach blossom
and almond and orange—and the
girl in bathing togs, with the sea
water pearling her hair—tells you
that it’s springtime in the air far
■ Southwest.
As for spring in a fellow's
heart. Lay your ear close and
listen to the little chap w-ho’s
singing inside!
Up-to-Date
Jokes
By ELLA WHEELER WILCOX.
Copyright. 1913, by Star Publishing Co.
Y OU m
these
to ge
OU men and women who read
ese lines, what are you doing
get the best out of the short
life you are liging?
I know what you are striving for,
most of you men (American men), it is
wealth and power.
And you do not want these things so
much for yourselves as for tire wives
and children who bear your names.
But, good sir, are you not making a
mistake to so utterly absorb yourself in
business?
If you really live to make your dear
ones happy, would you not attain the
result sooner by giving them a little
more of your time and attention as you
go along?
I have talked with hundreds—-yes,
thousands—of wives of ambitious men,
and the universal complaint is: “Oh, if
my husband was not so tied down to
his business—if he could only give a lit
tle more time to his family take a feA'
weeks now and then for recreation with
us. or even a day’s outing now and
then, how happy we would be. But he is
so busy all the time and so tired and
nervous.”
Does it pay?
And you, madam, are you making
your husband realize that you would
rather hate more of his leisure than
more of his riches? or are you conr-
plaining that you do not live as well as
your neighbors, and urging him on to
renewed efforts by your petty nagging
and restless discontent?
Many a woman, instead of being the
helpmate and comfort to her husb&nd
God intended her to be, is the whip that
drives him like a tired horse to overtax
his strength.
Ask yourself if you are one of these?
There have been hard times for men in
the last ten years.
Have you made your husband feel
that you sympathized with him in the
difficulties that he has encountered in
these days of trusts and monopolies?
Have you been ready to take a philo
sophical and cheerful view of the econ
omies and deprivations forced upon you,
or have you been despondent, complain
ing or rebellious, or by a martyr-like
air added to the mortification of your
troubled husband?
Have you tried to brace up his dis
couraged moods by your optimism, and
to turn the temporary tragedy into a
laughing jest? or have you driven him
to the verge of despair and suicide by
your half-concealed contempt at his
failures?
And you. sir. have you made your wife
realize during these years of hard strug
gle that she Is the dearest thing in the
world to you, and that you appreciate
her economies, and that her sympathy
and companionship are more to you than
all the honors the world could offer you
would be without her?
Or have you left her to guess this to
be the fact, that while you plunged
deeper and deeper into business and
rarely spoke to her unless it was to find
fault and. complain of small delinquen
cies, with no word of praise for great
virtues?
Answer these questions silently to
yourself and then ask yourself what
makes life,worth living.
Is it not, first of all, a peaceful, love-
warmed home companionship with dear
ones, and the giving and receiving of
simple pleasures and of sympathy and
affection?
What use will a fortune be if you
lose those joys out of life?
Would it not be wise to obtain and
retain the best things as you go along?
The end of the journey is not far—and
the only thing you can take across is
Love.
A fool and his money are soon mar
ried.
Few women have to take lessons in
painting.
Peace hath her victories, but we gen
erally have to fight hard for them.
A girl never reads i
wondering if she isn’t
the heroine.
novel without
i good bit like
THE SUN AND THE
BOY
By WILLIAM F. KIRK.
^ must be a wonderful. wonderful Sun ’
| Said the Little Blind Boy one day
"My father told me you were easy to see
’Till the stars come to twinkle and play.
I wish I could know how you look when you glow
Just after the day has, begun;
Do you think I’ll be bigger than you when I grow?
Said the Little Blind Boy to the Sun.
"You must be a beautiful, beautiful child.’
said the Sun through its dazzling glare:
"But 1 am blind, too, and I can not see you.
Although I’m sure you are there.
Don’t cry, little lad, and don’t try little lad
To grasp unattainable joy;
Perhaps we’ll be peers after billions of years,'
v Said the Sun to the Little Blind Boy.
You can sometimes flatter a woman by
telling her you don’t.
Time and tide wait for no man, but
you can’t make a woman believe it when
she is putting on her hat.
When a girl is proverbially fond of
lobsters, she generally goes out to sup
per with one.
Nearly every girl at some time has
made some fellow- happy by refusing to
marry him.
Many a fellow -who has told a girl she
was good enough to eat has been obliged
to swallow his own words.
The good die young, or if they don’t
they grow up to be mighty homely.
With some women the tragedy of mar
ried life begins with the first scratch on
the parlor furniture.
How To Do It.
117HENEVER I get an umbrella,”
said the prudent person, “I pul
my name on it.”
“So I do,” answered the man with
out a conscience. “The person who
used to own it isn’t so likely to iden
tify it.”
She Might Have Been.
Little Visitor <pointing to a large oil
portrait) Whose picture is that?
Little Hostess—She was my mamma’s
great aunt. 1 never heard much about
her, but guess she was a school teacher
Little Visitor—Why?
Little Hostess—how her eyes fol
low us about? .
T
HE COOK—Ol’m sorry, mum. but
the walkin’ diligate av th’ Su prattle
Ordher av Cooks hov ordered me to
throw up me job.
The Mistress (tearfully) -Oh, Norah!
What have I done?
The Cook—Nawthin’, mum; but your
foolish husband got shaved in a non
union barber shop th’ day before yis-
terday.
* * *
“Would you die for me?” she asked,
sentimentally.
“Now, look here,” he returned 1n his
matter-of-fact way, “are we supposed
to be planning a cheap novel or a
wedding?”
* * *
Mrs, Flubdub—My husband goes out
every evening for a little constitutional.
Does yours?
Mrs. Guzzler—No; my husband al
ways keeps it in the house.
* * *
Commercial: “If a %ian has an In
come of two million dollars a year, what
is his principal?”
Cynic: “A man with such an in
come usually has no principle.”
I EARN to cook, as a matter of
honesty, if for no other rea
son.
According to Miss Wilhelmina
Clement, past mistress in the culina*y
art. the. wife who can’t cook or su
perintend the housekeeping takes her
husband s pay envelope on false pre
tenses.
She does not know her business.
Miss Clement has been teaching
brides their business for some time,
and in her immaculately clean kitch
en. from which a class of bride pupils
had just departed, she explained why
a knowledge of cooking was one of
the most important assets which a
young woman brings to the matrimo
nial partnership.
Miss Clement is of Dutch descent
and is "Mrs.” in private life. In her
white frock and pretty Dutch cap she
is good to look at.
Reciprocity Expected.
“When a couple marry,” said Miss
Clement, “the girl expects her hus
band to hand her over most of his
salary, and he, in turn, expects that
her management of that money will
make it go twice as far as it did be
fore their marriage.
"It’s his business to earn the
money. It’s hers to spend it wisely.
One part is as important as the other.
"Now, she would fetl she had be en
cheated if she found, after marriage,
that he was incapable of earning the
bread and butter, and he has a right
to feel that he has been defrauded if
she doesn't know- how- to cook the food
that his money buys.
"The foundation of all home life is
the kitchen. People live in hotels and
boarding houses, but these are not
called ‘home/
"A home is a place where the
hearth fire burns for you and yours
alone, even if the hearth fire is a gas
range.
Don’t Be a. Cheat.
"Tlie girl who marries for a home
and does not know- her part of the
business of making that home is
cheating. She -can not know her busi
ness unless she knows how to cook.
"In very well-to-do homes the wife
may not want to do the cooking per
sonally, but unless she knows some
thing about cooking she can not direct
her helper or understand whether or
not her family Is getting proper nour
ishment. ,
“Correct feeding is becoming a sci
ence, and we are all awakening to the
fact that it* is as important to com
bine food properly for the adult as It
is for tlie baby.
"Men wild are well fed, properly
nouri9hed, are less inclined to drink.
It's poor cooking as much as anything
that sends men to the saloons.
"No woman need think that she is
too intellectual to bother with cook
ing. Cooking is a sc ience as well as
an art. and one can go on learning
forever.
"The bride who has a good foun
dation of culinary knowledge and
takes an interest in cooking will find
no end of possibilities to it.
Don’t Neglect the Scraps.
"Right in her own kitchen she can
join the great movement to reduce
the high cost of living. She can use
up every scrap of left-over material.
And let me tell you that it is the
clever cook alone who can make left
over food tasty and w-ho never wastes
anything.
"It is the bride’s business to insist,
on standard goods, not taking poorer
substitutes. In the end it alw-ays
pays to get the best materials and
cut down in some other way—not
having so many different dishes per
haps.
"The smaller the income the more
intelligence it takes on the part of
tlie bride to manage her share of the
domestic partnership, and the more
she needs to study and plan her daily
bill of fares.
"Every girl who is going to fy* pnar-
ried should take a course of cooking
lessons unless a very wise mother has
taught her already-. Unfortunately,
such mothers are rare nowadays. 11*
she already knows how to cook ordi
narily well, she ought to go on learn
ing and trying new dishes by herself.
"In the average home there is an
appalling lack of variety in the bill of
fare, and that is why men, especially,
are so glad to get a meal at a good
restaurant. A man’s stomach craves
variety, and the hard -working man is
certainly entitled to a good mea!
properly balanced in food values and
dainty service.
Has Right to Complain.
“A man comes home after a hhrd
day's work and sees the settle old
things served on a soiled ek>th. Some
times he sees delicatessen food hastily
bought just before dinner. I think 1 he
has a right to comp! tin, apd generally
he does, if he is easy-going he says
nothing, but after a while he' grows
■grouchy.’
"There are more grouches caused
by bad cooking than by bad luck.
"Don t be satisfied if you can do
plain horn.- cooking. The man of to
day, and his wife and children, too.
have acquired a taste for foreign
dishes, and that is what the restau
rants thrive on. You can learn to
make chop suey or Italian spaghetti
yourself. They are not mysteries, but
no one can learn them unless thev
are willing to take time and thought
and pains.
"The health and comfort of tlie fam
ily depend largely on the wife's
knowledgi of cooking, if she does
not know her business the matrimo
nial venture will not be the success
she might have made it.”
Answer Wanted.
A LEARNED professor at 4>ne of the
** large public schools was explaining
to his class how the. identity of a thing
might remain, even with the loss of its
parts. "Here,” he said, "is this pen
knife. Now. suppose I lose this blade
and replace it with a new one—you see
it has two blades—is it still the same
knife ?”
"Yes, yes!” cried the class.
“And suppose,” he said, "I lose the
second blade and replace it with a new
one—is it still the same knife?”
"Oh yes,” said the class.
"Now,” said the professor, triumph-'
antly, "suppose I lose the handle and
have a new one made—is it still the
same knife?”
"Certainly!” roared the class. t
But here a youth arose—one of th«
clear-headed kind. “Professor/’ said
he. “suppose I should find those two
blades and that handle and put th'em
together again—what knife would that
be?”
The professor’s answer is not record
ed.
44'
9
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ftWl
fH |!:
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4
Cottolene is better than butter or lard for frying because it
can be heated about 100 degrees higher without burning or
smoking. This extreme heat instantly cooks the
outer surface, and forms a crust which prevents
the absorption of fat.
Fry fish with Cottolene and it will never be greasy,
but crisp and appetizing enough to make your mouth ^
water.
Cottolene is more economical than lard; costs no
more, and goes one-third farther than
either butter or lard.
You are not practicing
economy if you are not using
Cottolene in your kitchen. (
Made only by
THE N.K.FAiRBANK
COMPANY