Newspaper Page Text
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r 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
but crisp and appetizing enough to make your
water.
Cottolene is more economical than lard; coat
more, and goes one-third farther than
cither butter or lard.
You are not practicing
economy if you are not using ^0^7 ,
Cottolene in your kitchen.
Made onl-* I17 ^—
TOE VK.FA!HHANK ffAl/Jr
CO All'AAV
The Manicure
Lady
By WILLIAM F KIRK
<•(■ ytS?S
? '—^ as 1 lia’
SPRINGTIME
Copyright, 13X11. by Journal-Auk r-
ioan-Examiner.
By Nell Brinkley
KOUGE,” said the Manicure
'I uin’t felt so romantic
have this forenoon for a
time. 1 don’t suppose barbery ever
, very tender like and pensive ex-
tvhen some Joe with a hard beard
■ el ^ shaved twice over and gives them
tip. But it is different with me,
,,rge You wouldn’t believe it, would
llf it j told you L can hear robbins
I hlstlinff for rain and doves cooing for
their mates even if I am sitting at a
manicure table right down here in the
I . t art of the Tenderloin. The way I feel
tills morning there is a golden haze
Lround the sun and purple edges to all
| Item clouds that floats fleecy-like over-
mead,”
What's all this about ’’’ the head bar
ker wanted to know. “It must be r<>
nance or hop. I never heard you get
Ijj-ushy before. You look kind a pale, too.
llvidJo. You had better try going to
I ,ed early and gittlng up early for a
jv.>,fk. and eat plenty of celery to keep
,,ur nerves good.”
•Well, George, 1 might us well tell
v,,u that I do feel kinder romantic this
forenoon, the llrsi time since that fel
low over in Decatur proposed to me and
mattered love's dream by copping one
I, f sister Maine’s rings off from the
sec and never returning to our lium-
| hie abode. That was years ago, George,
a ixi just as the scar was healing over,
« re 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
I Manicure Lady. "It's a book that I
I was reading last night. Brother Wilfred
jwiis tfading it down at the Carnegie
] Library and when nobody was looking
I Ik- st uck it under his coat and mooched
I home with it. It was worth the risk,
deerge. It’s one of the grandest hooks
have ever saw. The name- of it is
amouss Loves of History.’ It tells all
bout Napoleon and Josephine and about
a young fellow named Paris that feil in
love with «t girl named Helen that used
| 0 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
I go to Keno or some place like that to
[ get a divorce.”
"I never was much /on those ro-
I inances," said the Head Barber. ‘‘The
| way butter and eggs is selling now . it
lakes all the mental Arithmetic to keep
| Mary and the children. When you got
| io live four flights up without no ele
vator and git most of your eatables at
I h delicatessen store, love's young dream
I Mis kinda frazzled around the edges."
"But just the same," insisted tin
Manicure Lady, "I think that a girl or
a gent can forgii their surroundings
| when they set down with the book like
that ‘Famous Loves' book. Gee, George,
I when I was reading about that brave
young Paris stealing a King’s wife away
j and taking her up-State to Troy, it
iade me wish that some fellow would
ome down from the Blue Ridge and
kidnap me away from my father’s roof.
' >f 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
pucr boy is as far from a job as he has
'•V( r been in all his bright young ca
reer. It was only fast night he nicked
father's bank roll for a case note, ti e
last one* he will get for some time, as
Mu: old gent has sworn off getting mei-
i don’t see anything very romantic
;t 1. <ut stealing the King’s wife or any
m; cr man's wife,” said the head barber.
Wanted to Be ‘ Stole.”
M < n't you?” said the Manicure Lad>.
' tui, l think it must nave been simpiy
grand to have lived in them cays and
"> nave been stole by some guy with a
little nerve like that Paris fellow. And
ih-- book told about Romeo and Juliet.
• J was thinking. George, thai if 1
id nave a handsome young 5 llow like
do-oko put a ladder up against our'front
in ch and whisper words • f love to pic
i would accept his proposal of marriage
at..I beat down the ladder with him
m’ •!. before tHe porch broke.
‘ Napoleon and Josephine had ^an
awful sweet love, so the book says. The
stojy tells how much that great general
loved ids quoth and how much she
"ted him Until things commenced
Lrtaking bad for him and he lost out
i that awful rfetreat from Waterloo and
he battle of Bunker Hill, or whatever
was ihe narpo ot that tight hp lost to
'Mike Wellington and ids German sol
diers*. There ain't no love like that no
more. George. When a young fellow
wants to get married nowadays he
starts saving up until he has mone>
•nuugh to buy a house and lot in West
End and when he proposes and gets
1 urned down he takes the money arm
Gscs it playing poker. There ain't ever
sue i love as our fathers and mothers
use | to have.
"Every once and a while when the
'id gent comes home from lodge with
"is feet well apart and a k’tula balmy
» ' ■ n His map 1 can hear him remind
ing mother of how they used to walk
a g them lilac-borderod lanes, plight-
ng their troth over and over again.
V' body plights no troths nowadays.
George, until the young girl's folks has
- u a report on the young gent from
1 "as and Bradstreets.
' T1 . more T think about them beau*
Ml old romances which can never be
o more, the more I wisht 1 had lived
cii instead of now."
‘‘If you’re going to keep on harping
lie way you started out this morning."
aid the Head Barber, "it wouldn’t hurt
'ay feelings if you hud lived then in-
tetul of now, just so I didn't have to
Rv tiien, too. and be In the same shop
M you. Here comes the nervous cus-
r outer that never likes to bear women
; »:k. Humor him. Kid. humor him.”
“Just Say”
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 prrprrcd in a minute.
Takencsubstituts. AskfcrHORLICK S
Sg Others arc imitations.
cr>. ^
What the Newly
Wed Should Know
FIRST:-‘-'Lcarn to Cook
. i*
This is ths first of s series of articles prepared by Mar-
gr.rst Hubbard Ayer, whe Has bean commissioned by The Geor
gian to discuss the problems of newly married people with
experts in vsrirus departments ef household economy.
By MARGARET HUBBARD AYER
Daysey Mayme
And Her Folks
By FRANCES L. GARSIDE
T ~X THEN LvMiiuh t John Appleton
VV was a young man, am 1 unat
tached, he* found life very gay.
He was invited to all the parties,
and he took every new girl who came
to his town out to look at the moon.
He was so popular that the third time
he met a girl she would pick the lint
off his coat.
Then he became engaged, and his
popularity became like that of a cold
buckwheat cake.
Then he got married, and the only
envelopes he received in a woman's |
hand were sent by the girl book- j
keepers in the employ of the groves j
and the butcher.
His wife did not forget his exist- !
ence. remembering it dutifully whe:.
t hero was one more guest than tin
game >t' cards required, or when she,
had a guest who was very hard of 1
hearing.
Occasionally, ton. she would ask
him to escort one of her kin home.
His duties us Kin Commissioner-
General only tended to increase his
unpopularity. A decision that when
a woman’s kin guest goes horn * her
husband has a right to see what she
is taking in her trunk made him 30
unpopular among the women that
thereafter every invitation Mrs. Ly-
sc.rider John Appleton received care
fully excluded tier husband.
All of this explains his joy the
,,»htr evening when a special messen
ger appeared at the door with an in
vitation for him!
Hi was not completely forgotten!
Ai last he was to have another tusre
oi society, so steadfastly forbidden
;hr father of a family.
"What is the invitation to?" asked
pis wife. But he was so excited in
looking for his ties whmv his socks
were kept, and his gloves in his hand
kerchief box, he did not reply.
He hummed gayly, and he whistled
right nnrvily. stopping between tunes
in tell hi* wife he would be gone all
night.
"Gone all night!” How strangely
sweet the words sounded! H« re-
a ted them exultantly. He would
be gone all night! No on< need sit
up for him! What reckless freedom
tin* words implied!
He whistled louder and more uur-
rtly lb' was wildly excited over the
welcome change that w as coming into
the monotony of his life us a married
man. , . .
Then, as he started out tile door
with the step and bearing of a man
half his years, he told his wife when
he was going.
True, it was an invitation to sit Up
with the dead, hut it was the first
invitation of any kind he had received
in seventeen years’
I T’S springtime in Atlanta. Out
of the back-swung door of
her car Miss Atlanta, who is
u 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. The sea is as blue 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 horizon. The hills
that sweep to the sea are livid
with lovely uplands of green bar
ley and ablaze with seas of golden
poppies. All this—peach blossom
and almond and orange—and the
girl in bathing togs, with the seu
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 anil
. listen to the little chap who's
singing inside!
Up-to-Date
Jokes
Are You Happy? If Not, Why Not?
ELLA WHEELER WILCOX Tells How to Gain Joys of Life
By ELLA WHEELER WILCOX.
Copyright m3, \ y Star Publishing Co.
\ -r oil men and women who read
these lines, what aro you doing
to get the best out of the shot t
life you are liglng?
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 to
much for yourselves as for the wivi k
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?
1 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 lie could only give a lit
tle more time to liis family—take a few
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
jour husband realize that you would
rather have , more of his leisure than
more of his riches? or are you com
plaining that you do not live as well ns
your neighbors, attd 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 husband
God intended her to be, is the whip that
drives him like a tired horse to overtax
his strength.
Ask yourself if you arc 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?
j Have you been ready to lake a philo
sophical and cheerful view of the econ-
I omles 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
aad companionship ure more to you than
all th« honors the world could offer you
would be without her?
Or have you left her to gu< ss this to
be the fact, that while you plunged
deeper and deeper into business ami
rurely 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 t*
yourself and then ask yourself what
makes life worth living.
Is it not, first of all, a peaceful, lovc-
wf rmed home companionship with dear
ones, and the giving and receiving of
simple pleasures and of sympathy and
affection?
What
lose those joys out of life
Would it not be wise to obtain and
retain the best things as you go tiling?
The end of the journey is not far—and
the only thing you can take across is
Love.
Bv a Woman Hater
r T HE COOK — OI’m sorry, mum, but
* the walkin’ diiigate av th* Kuprame
Ordher av Cooks hov ordered me to
throw up me job.
Tic Misti ess (tearfully)—Oh, North!
What lave I done?
The Cook—Nawthin’, mum; but your
foolish husband got shaved in a non
union barber shop lh‘ day before yis-
terday.
* * •
"Would you die for me?” she asked,
sentimentally.
"Now, look here,” he returned in his
mutter-of-fact way. "are we supposed
to he planning a cheap novel or a
wedding?”
# 4) «•
Airs. Flubdub— My husband goes out
every evening for u little constitutional.
Does yours?
Mrs. Guzzler No; my husband al
ways keeps It in the house.
Commercial: *'Tf u man has an in
come of two million dollars a year, what
is his principal?”
C>nic: "A man with such an in
come usually has no principle."
THE SUN AND THE BOY
By WILLIAM F. KIRK
A fool anti his money aro 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 a novel without
wondering if she isn't a good bit like*
the heroine.
You can sometimes flatter a woman by
telling her you don't.
Time nnd tide wait for no man, but
\ ou can't make a woman believe it when
she is putting on her hat.
When u girl Is proverbially fond of
lobsters, she generally goes out to sup
per with one.
Nearly every girl at some time has
made Home fellow happy by refusing
marry him.
Many a fellow who has told a girl she
was good enough to <*ut has been obliged
to swallow his own words.
The good die young, or if the> don't
they grow up to he mighty homely.
With some women the tragedy of mar*
t ied life begins with the first scratch on
the parlor furniture.
How To Do It.
“Y ;
She Might Have Been.
Little A ;sitor (pomtlrg to a large oil
portrait >- Whose picture is that?
Little HoS.ess She was ipy mamma's |
I great aunt. I nqrer heard unjch about j
! 'her, but was'a ch» ul teacher. ;
! Little Visit 1 ! Why?
I I Ltlc Hci»Uv> - ,->ac li».V. her tye&IVl- j
Mow 1: -.Nii? , 1
The Retort Courteous.
Sharpson- Phlatz, wnat makes your
nose so red? ’
Phlatz—I glows with pride because
I ii never pokes itself in o other peo-
! ple'i? business.
After Effects.
i Hanks--! don't mind the influenza !
| itself so much—it’s the after < (Ted |
I'nv afreUl ml -
Kite r.\T- Tee :• ft* r dVe ■«.• •' w e.i
| ;,il> :r:< . I’m si ill doilg'ne the dot U r |
1 f » r
)U must be a wonderful, wonderful Hun,”
Said the Little Blind Boy one day
"My lather told me you were eaey 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 he a beautiful, beautiful child."
said the Sun through its dazzling glare;
“But i 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,
T*i gia-p ueatiaipablp joy;
Peril;* we ll be peers after billion* of ycurj,"
Said the Sun to th» l.illl Blind Bov.
V1ZHENEVER I got an umbrella,"
said the prudent person, "I put
iny 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.”
L EARN to cook, as u matter of
honesty, if for no other rea
son.
According to Miss Wilheimina
Clement, past mietret® in tne culinary
art, the wife who can't cook or su
perintend the housekeeping takes her
hutfband's pay envelope on false pre
tenses.
i She does not know her business.
Mis© Clement has been teaching
! brides their business for some time,
' and In her immaculately clean kitch-
1 en, from which a class of bride pupil®
1 had just departed, she explained why
a knowledge of cooking was one of
the most important asset? 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 Mias
Clement, "the girl expects her hus
band to hand her over most of nis
salary, nnd 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 ns important as the other
"Now, she would fee’ she had been
cheated if she found, ' fter marring*,
;hat he was incapable of earning the
bread nnd butter, nnd he has a right
to feel that he has been defrauded it
• he 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 houtes, but these are not
'•ailed ‘home.*
"A home is a place where the
hearth fire burns for you and yours
alone, even if the hearth fire Is u gar,
range*.
Don’t Be a Cheat.
"The girl who marries for a home
and does not know h?r pant 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 i>: getting proper nour
ishment.
"Correct feeding is becoming a sci
ence, and we are all awakening to th^
fact that it is as important to com
bine food properly for the adult as !i
is for the baby.
"Men who are well fed, proper.y
nourlthtd, 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
too intellectual to bother with cook
ing. Cooking is a science as well as
an art. and one can go on learning
forever.
"The bride who has a good foun
dation of culinary knowledge and
lakes an interest in cooking will find
no end of possibilities to it.
Don’t Neglect the Scraps.
"Right in her own kitchen she cm.
Join the great movement to reduce
the high cost of living. She can use
tip every scrap of left-over material
And let me tell you that it Is the
clever cook alone who can make left
over food tastj’ and who never Wastes
anything.
"It Is the bride’s business to insist
on standard goods, not taking poorei
substitutes. In the end it always
pays to get the best materials and
cut down in some other vay—not
having so urny different disii.s per
haps.
"The smaller the income the more
Intelligence It takes on the part of
the bride to manage her share of the
domestic partnership, and th* more
she needs to study and plan her daily
bill of fares.
"Every girl who is going to be mar
ried should take a course of cooking
lessons unless a very wise mother ha*
taught tier already. Unfortunately,
such mothers arc rare nowadays. If
she already knows how to cool; ordi
narily well, she ought to go on learn
ing and trying n?w dime* by herself.
"In tin* average home there is an
appalling lack of variety in the bill of
fare, and that is why men. <• specially,
are no glad to get a rnepi at a good
restaurant. A man’s stomach craves
variety, and the hard-working man is
certainly entitled a good meal
properly balance! in food values and
dainty service.
Has Right to Complain.
"A man roincH liomo after a hard
dash’s wort, and ^ets the ,amo old
things hi rved on a soiled cloth. Home-
times he sees delicatessen food hastily
bought lust before dinner. I think he
has a right to comp] tin, and generally
he does. ]f lie iw euay-goln* ho says
nothing, but after a while he groves
‘grouchy.’
"There are nude grouches caused
by bad conking than by bad Jack.
"Don’t lie satisfied if you can do
plain home cooking. The man of to
day, and his wife and children, too.
have uc<juireil a taste for foreign
dishes, anil that is what the restau
rants thrive on. You can learn to
make chop suey or Italian spaghetti
youiself. They are not mysteries, but
no one can leurn them unless the\
are willing t > take timu and though!
and pains.
"The health and comfort of the fam
ily depend largely on tiie wife's
knowledg. of cooking. If she does
not know her business the Matrimo
nial venture will not bo the success
she might have made it."
Answer Wanted.
A LEARNED professor afc one of the
large public schools was explaining
to his clasa 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 ima two blades—is It still the t ame
knife V*
‘‘Yes, yes!" erbd 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 ye*,” said the class.
“Xt v,” L:aid the professor, triumph
antly. "suppose T lose the handle and
have a new one made—is It still the
same knife?”
"Certainly!" reared the class.
But here «. youth arose-—one of the
clear-headed kind. "Professor,” said
he, "suppose I should find those two
blades and tl at handle and put them
together again—what ltnife would that
be?"
The professor’* answer is not record
ed.