Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

ism ADVICE TO THE LOVELORN Balm for Aching Hearts By BEATRICE FAIRFAX. TRY THE SAME THING. D EAR MISS FAIRFAX: I have been keeping company with a young man for two or three van. He writes to me oc- sionally, and sometime* he does not write for three week*. Should I wail the same length of time baf.^re answering his letters or should T answer in a few days? I Jove this young man and do not wish to let him know it by answering too «oon. BROWN EYES Never answer his letters sooner than he replies to yours, and I think it would be a good plan if you occa sionally wait longer. HIS WIFE P)EAR MISS FAIRFAX. In a conversation with a mar ried lady the following question arose. If bis mother and ids wife were drowning and It was impossi ble to save both, which should ho save? In other words, to whom does he owe most? PROSPECTIVE BRIDEGROOM. He owes his life to his mother, but when he married he vowed to cling to the woman who became his wife “above all others.” HE SHOULD PR0P08E. I") EAR MISS FAIRFAX: Should a gentleman have an engagement ring when he proposes to a young lady, or in it proper to give her a ring after she has accept ed him? Would it he considered proper for a young man, making $80 per month, to propone marriage to a young lady, asking her to wait until he is mak ing $100. as he considers that the proper amount t marry on, living in a city? The young lady .n question comes from a moderately woalthy family, bnt hasn’t an extravagant disposi tion. The young man feels that it would be unwise to put off r opos-# Ing. as sho has no dsflnt*' .owl- edge of his intentions, s’ she may suspect them. 18. He should propo' .* course, To be ready with ♦ gement ring takes too much f anv«d. It is proper him to propose, of course, sta* .rankly his Income and future pr< jts. The rest should be left to her decision. WHERE SHOPPING COMES EASY By Beatrice Fairfax ACCEPT NO MAN. T")EAR MISS FAIRFAX I am fifteen and deeply in love with two young men, one five years my senior and the other seven years my senior. Both think there Is nothing like me. There was a young man from an other place Who name to see me some time ago. He proposed to m». but I didn't accept, as mother likes the "tjier ones a little hot ter. I don’t know whether to accept or not, as I do not love him very much and would like you to give m* some advice. BELLE. A girl of fifteen is too young to be courted I am surprised that your i mother permits It. You must re- ! fuse all three, and permit yourself to I be a care-free girl at least five years longer NOTHING WHATEVER rtBAR MISS FAIRFAX L-e I am deeply In love with a girl one year my Junior. Hhe is 22. She loves me. I know, but she Insists on flirting with a young man In the name town. Do you think me right in objecting? Would you quit going with her? What do you think she means? COLE M She li not engaged to you, and has given you no sort of promise. That leaves you without the right to ob ject. I am sure she mean* nothing what ever by her flirtations except to gratify a girl's idea of what con stitute* n good time SHE IS NOT SINCERE I")EAR MISS FAIRFAX: What Is your opinion of a girl who shown her love letters to all her friends? Would you continue correspondence with her? A. B The girl is not In love or she wouldn't do it. Discontinue writ ing. and tell her the reason It will do her good to know that such conduct Is disloyal. * A Bachelor’s Dial ry * By MAX. M ARCH 38.—“You telegraphed you were taking a different route,” I managed to stammer into the phone after I had recovered from my surprise in hearing the wid ow'* voice. “Rut T found at the last moment," ehe said with a laugh, "that I couldn’t, *o here T am, all alone, and I will be here two hours. Did you say you would come right down to the sta tion?” Would I com*? 1 had called to Tompkins to bring my hat amd coat before I had hung up the receiver, and was out the door in a rush, feeling like a boy who And* himself alone in the house and the preserve closet un locked. Ran to Catch a Car. 1 rushed down the front steps, leached tlfr gate in a bound, and ran ♦ o the corner to catch a car. It seemed unusually long in com ing. but at last 1 caught the glow of ihe headlight away down the line. younger, but of late year* my memory isn’t good enough. “I—well, the truth la- " I stam mered. "The truth is,” she said with a laugh, “you were going to meet the widow. Well, get in. Pome, Jack,” to her husband, "we will also go to mee' the widow.” There was a hurried direction given tho chauffeur and we were off for the station. I 1 do not recall my sensations on I that ride I was disappointed, re lieved. glad, aorry, chagrined, trium- ! phant—one sensation succeeding the other in such rapid confusion that 1 never knew which predominated. Mrs. Spencer was talking, but we were noaring the station before I realieed what she was saying. Then 1 heard only here and there a, sen tence.for my mind was leaping forward to the meeting with the widow. Would j she be disappointed when she saw that I was attended by my friends? I had told her once I thought her charming I should never enter her presence unless guarded by policemen instructed to drag me away if I let her charms overcome me. Would she think these two friends my officially appointed bluecoats? 1 was so absorbed in my thoughts 1 j Would she give me that taunting did not notice that a big Umou*in- J little smile which said. "You’re afraid. had Mopped close beside me. or that a man had alighted, until he grasped me by the arm. It wap Jack Spencer. “Just getting home.” he explained, “and we were turning in tho drive when my wife caught sight of you.” "Max” she called from the car. “come here and explain where you are fc.oing.” ] had only one thought as I walked to the doot of the machine, and that waa a regret that I had never learned how to lie glibly. 1 never tell a lie you’re afraid?" Of only one thing 1 was sure, and that was that her manner of greeting my friends would conceal so much it would be perfect. The widow. I thought, not without some pride in her. would be a match for Mrs. Spen cer. and that is saying a good deal. "You haven’t heard a word I have said, Max,” said Mrs. .Spencer, half amused and half provoked. I insisted that T had. “Well,” she replied, "she is coming next week.” "Who is coming next week?" I asked, not that I was at all inter- I am not posing as a good man, but 11 ,, have found that a lie carries so many , , e V e * slie “1 knew you complications in its trail it is easier heard what I said. Well. Just to tell the truth and be done with it. * or 1 won’t tell you again. I’ll No doubt 1 told many when 1 was t®" V° u Just this much, and that is she thinks you are still in the South or she would not come.” The widow, 1 was thinking, would probably be dressod in brown. She looked particularly handsome in that color, and wore it a great deal—per haps a brown traveling suit, with a brown hat with a feather just the color of her eyes. "She particularly said.” Mrs. Spen cer resumed, “she did not want to see you. She can’t forget. She is one woman. Max. who isn’t interested in your money.’’ It was too late to take the widow- out to dinner; perhaps we could go to some private little dining room in a nearby hotel and have a little lunch and something to drink. I was glad. I was thinking, that Mrs. .Tack had on an evening gown. Mrs. Jack always I looked handsome, but I had a special desire that she impress the widow this evening I didn't want the widow, who was always perfectly attired, to ge: any notion that my friends were frump*. ( J My thoughts ran so intently on tho — - — —is-r— — meeting of these two women that I paid little heed to what Mrs. Spencer was saying, and had not learned, when we reached the station and were pushing our way through the crowds, who that most unusual woman was who was not interested in my money. There flashed through my mind the story of the farmer who saw- his first camel and who said, “There hain’t no such thing.' -hed the door of the la room, my hand in Mrs. »no «iher iiuit of T«i r v “*' v “ vv * ” 1 was amiling at Unj*fiAt- a vinti iri.< iiks tfh’* 1 the appropriateness of the story, when • !,* we turned a corner, and stood lace io dunRVhDllfriCTC^CVtnwuurnr fiU ' e " ith very handsomest woman oOlDdi DRIGGISTS EVERYWMFM I had ever seen—the widow! BRING YOUR FIL.MS TO US and we will develop them free. We are film specialists and give you perfect results and quick delivery. Mail - negative for free sample print. Enlargements made j. i colored Pictures framed. Chemicals. Cameras. $3.00 to $85.00. Fresh films to tit any camera—guaranteed not to stick " • rot- catalogue. Quick mail order service. H. CONE, Inc., “A Good Drug Store”—(Two Stores)—Atlanta. osemamt 4 WALTON ST — JUST OFF PEACHTRU CHICHESTER S PILLS THE DIAMOND BRAND » THE MANICURE LADY She Goes to the Circus By WILLIAM F. KIRK. SEE that President Wilson went to the opening game at Washing ton, between the Yankees and the Washington team.’’ said the Head Barber ’ “I suppose he thinks that he ought to imitate Taft that much, after showing him up so last election. The papers had a whole lot about him, how he pulled his brown Fedora down over his eyes and watched the game like a hawk from beginning to end. I suppose he was picking out the ball players that makes over $5,000 a year, so he could put the bee on them for that income tax of his." "It must he just grand to be a President, and go out to the ball game in an auto and sit in a box where everbody can get a slant at you,” said the Manicure Ieady. “Goodness knows. George, if you and me was to go to a ball game they wouldn’t notice what I was wearing and they wouldn’t know whether you had on a brown Fedora or a hold over. Speaking About Ball Games. ‘But speaking about ball games and other forms of amusement,” continued the Manicure Lady, "me and sister Mayme and Wilfred all went last night to see the circus that used to be gave by Mis er Barnum and Mister Bailey. They aint with the show any more, because it is long after their time, but it was simply grand, George. “A friend of Wilfred's gave us some swell seats and there we sat, thinking about the days when we were little kids when there was only one ring inside the big tent and two clowns instead of twenty. * “They had some wonderful features, though, even if it wasn't the same as in the old days. If you haven't been to see it, George. H would pay you to go just to see all them freaks they have. “Honest to goodness. I never knew there was so many freak* in the world, outside of the ones that blows in here sometimes to have their nails did. Wilfred was saying that he didn’t care, after looking at them, whether he had a job or not. He said that it was enough to make a man thankful to know that he had his health and a fine personality. “The poor boy has always thought that he had a fine personality 0Vfr 1snce one of them palmists told him that he was cut out to be a travel- ing man for a big concern. ,f How was Wilfred’s conduct ?•* asked the Head Barber. “You know v,, were telling me that he was hitting it up pretty hard after getting his last bunch of poems back from the magazine editor.” “He wasn’t exactly right." admitted the Manicure Lady. “When Mr Pel- lows came up and sat in our box to visit for a little while, me and Mayme was kind of hoping he would stay, because he seemed like a nico kind of a gent I know he would hav» stayed, only Wilfred began spouting some poetry that he waa making up as he went along. “The poor boy can’t writ* nothin* good if it takes him all night, so y 0u can imagine the kind of Junk he would make up a* he went along. This t« I about how the Btuff Bounded that h« waa handing out to Mr. Fellows: “ ‘The circuaes of ancient Rome Were not so grand as this; I*m glad I came all the way from torn* To enjoy this night of bliss My breast with gratitude does swell Just like a blacksmith's bellow* I thank you more than I can tell For this here show, Mr. Fellows.*** "I suppose Fellows left the box aft* that,” said the Head. Barber. Must Take the Pledge. "He had a right to, and he had t right to ask us to leave, too, becau„ I guees he must have seen by that time that dearest brother waa feeling his osts and you can bet. George, that I aint never going to a circus or anything els, with Wilfred until he takes the pledge Why, he even Jumped into the ring It the middle of the show and tried to throw one of them Iceland wrestlers He got thrown out on his ear, first by the wrestler and then by the usher, end met me and Mayme outside after tht show.” “It's to bad you didn't have your fa ther along," suggested the Head Bar ber. "Not by any means." said the Mani cure Lady. “That would only have added to the horrors of the occasion." THE CRY OF YOUTH By BEATRICE FAIRFAX. HOW MUCH EASIER IT IS TO CHOOSE A HUSBAND." T HE customer is weary. That the salesgirl is also weary is some thing beyond her comprehension. The customer is also impatient, but the salesgirl is not. Patience for her has a pecuniary value, and its equivalent is bread and butter. Gown after gown has been taken from the racks and draped on the dummy models, and tied on those of flesh and blood. Bolt upon bolt of goods has been taken from the shelves and spread cut in a way to give life and color to every thread. At last, wearied by the multiplicity of choice and her own indecision, the customer sinks into a chair. The sales girl. who has never been tired by multi plicity of choice, and knows not the luxury of indecision, remains standing. How mufch easier." says the cus tomer. “it is to choose a husband!” For she knew, as every woman knows, that that is where shopping comes easy. That is a stock line. There is no bewildering variety ot Color, style or texture; no changing of fashions with confusing rapidity; no vexing doubt If the purchase will prove becoming, .and, alas for feminine folly, no question if tfie purchase will stand the test of wear and time! Wearing rose-colored glasses that hide all imperfections of wool and color, a girl enters this shop while very young, and proceeds to make a selection. She has so little judgment that her mother wouldn't trust her with the purchase of a muslin dress that is to last one season, yet she permits her to enter alone and unguided a shop) where she will make a purchase that must last a lifetime. When she returns home with a new gown her mother examines it for im perfections, noting quickly if it is worth the price, and if not, the girl must take it back. But if the girl shops for a husband, that is of 90 little importance she shops unattended. And when she makes a poor selection her family meekly abides i by her bargain. Her mother is often a poor guide in the matrimonial market, and her father shirks the task, regarding his business affairs as of more importance. “That is your province," he says to his wife, arid she hid-es weakly behind that sentiment called “mother love." and which is manifested in letting daughter have a dynamite bomb to play with if that is daughter’s choice. “She loves him,” she will say when daughter brings home her matrimonial purchase, "and we must let daughter have what she wants.” And daughter has It, and time has a way of its own in working on those who buy matrimonially that is unlike the way it marks off the days and months and years on those who make less vital purchases. The gown shrinks in the wash and fades, and breaks into hole9 and is dis carded. In the matrimonial shop it is not the purchase that shows the marks of wear and time; it is the one who buys. The husband may look just as dap per as the day he was taken from the counter, but the poor little customer who carried him off is faded and worn, and begins .to look like a last year's gown that was a bad bargain to begin with, and that proved worse with very day’s wear. She looks spiritually and mentally out at elbows and down at heels, and the brightness of youthful coloring that once made her a joy has become premature ly faded. She purchased on the im pulse. She must wear to the day of her death! She must carry to the end of time a burden on her heart that was never at the beginning any more than a moth-eaten sentiment. “How much easier." says the im patient customer, surrounded by silks and wools and muslins, “it is to choose a husband.” And this choosing of a husband is something which mothers and fathers and all guardians of the young must make more of a responsibility—and less of a whim or caprice. Snap Shots By LILLIAN AAUFERTY. Man is the only animal that lau&A*. drinks when he is not thirsty, and makes love at all seasons of the year —Voltaire. Who misses or who w ins the prize, Go, lose or conquer as you can; But if you fail or if you ris»>. Be each, pray God, a gentleman —Selected. MAIDEN MUSINGS. We girls have memories enough *0 we could all write memoirs! Why, we remember every compliment any one ever paid us—and as for the dis agreeable things that arc said to ui§, we certainly never forget them! A chap who is so conservative that he can’t change his opinion in public may not be so modest that he will refuse to embrace opportunity in pri vate. Love certainly makes Time pass but Time can make Love pass, too! STRAY NEWS NOTES. A Cleveland contemporary printed recently a striking little melodrama in five acts. We reproduce it lu re for our readers Act 1. "Fill 'em up again. -McGinnis’.'* Act 2. "FillemupagainM*-Ginnis! ’ Act 3. "FillupGinnis!" Act 4. "FilHnis!” Act 5. “Finis.” LOVE’S SUPREMACY By ELLA WHEELER WILCOX. Copyright, 1913, by American-Journal-Examiner. A i yon great Sun in his supreme condition Absorbs* all small worlds and makes them his own. So does my love absorb each vain ambition, * Each outside purpose which my life has known. Stars cannot shine so near that orb’s splendor, They are content to feed his flames of fire; And so my heart s satisfied to render Its strength, ite all to meet thy strong desire. As in a forest when dead leaves are falling From all save some perennial green tree, So one by one I find all pleasures palling That are not linked with or en joyed by thee. And all the homage that the world may proffer l take as perfumed oils or Incense i*ne thing more to lou , at toy dear j T love myself because thou art my lover. My name seems dear since uttered by thy voice; Yet Argus-eyed 1 watch and would discover Each blemish in the object of thy choice, I coldly sit in judgment on each er ror, To my soul’s gaze I hold each fault of me. Until my pride is lost in abject ter ror, Lest I become inadequate to thee. Like some swift rushing and sea seeking river. Which gathers force the farther on it goes, So does the current of my love forever Find aeded strength and beauty as it flows. The more I gi v e. the more remains forgiven, The more received, the more re mains to win, Ah! only in eternities of living, Will life be long enough to lov thee in. Real Jokes FROM EVERYWHERE. ‘She was too conscientious for m*. One day I proposed marriage to her, and what do you think she did? She took all that L said down in shorthand and brought it, nicely typewritten for me to sign.” Blinkers—Hallo. Winkers! I hear you married a woman with an independent fortune. Winkers (sadly)—N-no; l married fortune with an independent woman. Lady (to exhausted furniture re movers)—Here's a dime for you and your friend each to get a glass of beer with. Exhausted Furniture Remover—A glass of beer? Hove us, lady, a glass of beer ain’t no more to us than a snow flake on a red-hot .stove! A farmer saw’ a recipe advertised for keeping wells and cisterns from freezing in Winter Having sent a dozen stamps he received the following: “Tnke in your well or cistern at night and stand it in front of the fire." First Young Attorneyr-AUow me to congratulate you. I saw ybu this morn ing hurrying along to the County Court with a brief in your hand. So your first client has come?*’ Second Ditto (with a look of satisfac tion)—Yes, my tailor has taken out a summons against me!” Bobby: “My sisier will be down in a few minutes, Mr. Softly. She's upstairs rehearsing." Mr. Softly (who has come prepared): “W-what is she rehearsing. Bobby?” Bobby: “T don’t know exactly, but she'* standing in front of the mirror and blushing and saying. ‘Oh, Mr. Softly—er —this is so sudden!’ ” »y. NXIOU6” writs* “I am aj girl of eighteen years, and as yet have had no admirers among the boys. I am anxious to have some boy care for me and take me about. There are a great many affairs I mis? on this account.” “Anxious" evidently did not read a letter from one of my girl* a week ago. in which she said: "I find so much anxiety In loving, so much depression, so much fear, that many, many times I wish I had never grown up and were away back there playing with my dolls. They, at least, never caused any heart aches." Here is a little miss of eighteen who wants the heart aches to begin. Free to do as she pleases, with no tyrannical lover troubling her heart with his moods and his whims, she chafes at her freedom. She wants a taste of that bitter cup of love which the glri who wrote the other letter wishes had never been pressed to her Ups. A Common Cry. It is the universal cry of woman kind. We may know love at 1te real worth, or attire it in a value that Is fictitious; we may paint it as cruel or hideous—but we want it! “Anxious” is only eighteen, and when girls are only eighteen it is natural for them to seem very, very old. Eighteen and no lover in sight seems hopeless, so hopeless that in stead of going on in her sweet, merry way, taking no thought for to-mor row knowing that in due time a lover will wait at some turn in the road, she wants to beat the bushes! That is the modern way, and it is a way that robs love of all its sweet- Do You Know— T HE gossip party is the latest so cial craze. The hostess writes a dozen or more topics of con versation on cards, which are handed to guests upon their arrival. The subjects chosen are usually up-to date and piquant. Chairs arranged in pairs and sofas scattered about the room are numbered. These are* drawn for. and each couple drawing corre sponding numbers hunt up the seat*. A bell is rung to announce each topic of conversation, for which five min utes is allowed. At each change of places the next subject of gossip is scattered about. At the end slips of paper and pencils are then distrib uted, and the women vote for the men whose gossip has most interested them and the men vote for the wom en. The sunflower is a valuable plant. Its seeds make fine food for live stock, its oil is equal to the best lin seed oil, and its stalks are as good as coal for producing heat. The longest straight piece of rail way line in the world is from Nyngan to Bourke, in New South Wales. This railway runs 136 miles on a level in a perfectly straight line. ness. It is a way of forcing c. and love that ,is forced stands as i little chance in the storms of life as I a plant of hothouse growth. “Anxious” exaggerates her plight. She complains that she has no boy to | take her about, forgetting that there j are no places these days where a girl : can not go with pome other girl, and ? have s more independent and hap pier time. Lectures, concerts, thea ters, moving pictures, all arc avail able for a girl, with no proviso that she must be escorted by a man If one were. I hope for her happinew and safety that she has a father or a brother who cares enough for her to Substitute for the lover who is some where on the way. If “Anxious” is one of the great and growing army of girls who are self- supporting she is free to enjoy tha greatest treat youthful independence knows—that of escorting her mother An occasional concert or lecture brings a joy to mother all the greater because It has been such a rarity, and giving her pleasure is a fine way for making time less tedious while awaiting the coming of a lover And when he comes the evenings she has spent with her mother will have, unconsciously, given her wis dom and discrimination. She will not rush as blindly to his arm? as if she had spent the time of w’aitlng in self ish repining and moping. She will look him over dispassionately and critically, realising that while be may bring happiness to her, she has learned the way to happiness with out him. Will Be Wiser. She will be less likely to love mi§- takenly; she will not love for the out ward appearance, but will look tor the qualities underneath tthe surface Having learned w’hat pleasure thew outings give her mother, she win have unconsciously taken note of the dreariness and monotony of marriw life, and be less foolhardy in rushing Into it. . By her filial love a girt attwjj a better mfcn. and trains herself discriminate when he comes. Maddening skin dlsnaaes can’t oist, U’ Tecwr ine Is used because Tetterlne Is •clentlflc*”) prepared to remove the CAUSE a« well « EFFECT TETTERINE CURES SKIN DISEASES Jmm W. Scott. MUletls.rtllP. Oa.. mitaI I tuffared with an eruption two one box of Tetterlne cured me andI *•« «' frleode. It It warth Itt weight In go d- 1 Tetterlne cures eraema. tetter, ground jJJ erysipelas, Itching piles and other el 1 Get It to-day—Tetterlne. 50e at druggists, or by tsall SHUPi RINE 00., SAVANNAH. CA SlaKODAKSEs rlinu First Class Finishing and. E» Lpifc% larging A complete stock "in plates, capers, chemicals, Special Mail Order Department out-of-town customers. ... Send for CataloQue and Price List- A. K. HAWKES CO A -ff anTA^GA 14 Whitehall Sto ATLANTA,^ Steel Engraved and Embossed Stationery BUSINESS CARDS AND ANNOUNCEMENTS Largest Plant in the South Lowest Prices Samples will be »ubmltted or our representative will call upon rea'.e*' J. P. STEVENS ENGRAVING CO. 47 Whitehall Street. Bell Phone Main 174S. ATUANf*