WOMAN’S LIFE IS A
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Ctl£S” Cn7yrigM ' ' nerlcan-Journal- gy Brinkley j'|
BE SURE TO STUDY
SEARCH FOR VALUES
YOUR CHILD’S ABILITY
By ADA PATTERSON.
n^E other day a woman killed
herself, and to those gathered
about her bedside in a vain ef
fort to .•'live her life she said: “1 didn’t
know the real thing from the phony
until too late!"
’"he dying words of the poor, patnt-
''' creature, self-slain. despairing,
..iixioiis to leave a world in which she
kac! allowed herself to be cheated, are
» nu .wsage to every woman, whatever
her age or station, whatever her gifts,
k 1 outlook «r her problems.
World a Big Store.
T o world is a great department
and we are the shoppers.
Wont tn’s life is a search for values.
T e woman whose life ended in sui-
..is ( i. : i shopper. %U the bar-
tin counter, in search of benefits,
n- luid selected what was worthless,
i^-.Lrdieg what was worthy.
■‘The power of living a beautiful
i:te dwells in the soul," said Marcus
Aurelius, "and consists in indifference
to th*/?** things which are indiffer
The young girl peeps into her mir
ror. and discovers with a thrill of
pride that she lias suddenly, mys
teriously, oorome pretty of face and
pleasing of tigure; that the sallow-
uess arid awkwardness of yesterday
have gone somewhere, somehow; that
she is growing up and has dominion
in. a new, strange land* the land of
Hovering timidly, fascinatedly, at
life’s bargain counter, she is in great
danger, the greatest danger that be
sets a woman's life—that of not
knowing the worthy from what is
The stranger, who twirls his cane
with one hand and pulls his mustache
with the other, while he ogles her,
she may, because this shopping is so
new to her, mistake for something
genuine and worth while.
If she watched him saunter a block
further she would see the same twirl
ing of the light cane, the same pull- i
ing at a feeble mustache, the same ;
rolling of shallow eyes at every other (
pretty girl he met. Worthless goods! >
The only man worth a second's con- |
sideration is the one who does not |
ogle, but who, looking with true,
steady eyes into your own. asks the
only honest question: “Will you be |
Perhaps they do want it, but the i
only real value to befound in the de- ,
partment of hearts is not the admi
ration, but love. Love of general
admiration is the commonest mistake ^
of woman. Homes are broken ‘by it.
Lives are shattered by it. Yet, mad
dened by ’the rush of other women to
the bargain counter, many shoppers
pay the last penny of their woman
hood for what is worse than worth
To be admired one moment and for
gotten the next is the lot of the wom
an who cares only for admiration.
The honest lore of a good man is the i
only article at that counter worth a j
Takes Brains to Market.
In her search for values a woman
who takes her brains with her to
market wants to buy a home. She
may begin with a furnished room.
She may grow out of this into a wee
flat of her own. Put if her inind
sits ateadily on its throne, t£ere ig a
healthy hunger in her that will not
be stilled the hunger for a perma
nent Jiome into which she can build
herself and her family. That home ;
vi ill be to her an expression of them- :
selves and a growing ground for ev
ery inmate of it, a place for charac- j
lei- growth and upbuilding.
Seeking for values, the permanen- I
cies of life, she finds that honest,
cheerful work, and plenty of it, is
one of them, and good will is an
The idler always makes a poor bar
gain. Ho gives his time and gets
nothing. The worker gives his energy
and receives the comfortable assur
ance of having done his best. The
Joys of love intoxicate, exhilarate and
pass. The consciousness of having
done your best with the talents grant-
ed you by nature is a permanent sun
shine of the soul. The thorn in many
i death bed has been the thought: "I
have thrown away my talents; I have
waited my life.”
There is plenty of sentiment in the
world, and in human hearts, if direct
ed into right channels. The world’s
need is rather the ballast of practical
common sense than of flight-provok
But there is no doubt that every life
is better and more profitable for the
cultivation of a spirit of good wiU.
The hypercritical woman stultifies
The Woman Who Gains.
She forms the habit of studying life
through a microscope. She becomes a
fault hunter. The best definition I
have ever heard of a friend is that he
is one who in and out of season
wishes you well. That is a good atti
tude to take toward life, toward peo
ple, toward the world, of wishing them
The difference between the magnet
ic and unmagnetlc person is simply in
this atmosphere of thought. We are
attracted by the person who wills good
will, and are repelled by one who Is
Indifferent or malicious.
The woman who has gotten from
life’s bargain counter the love of a
good man; if they have bought, or are
in the way of buying, a home, be it
ever so little, of their own; if she is
developing to the uttermost her tal
ent, be it for raising healthy babies or
singing in grand opera; if she has the
soul sunshine which follows general
good will, she knows values. She has
proven herself a good shopper.
By BEATRICE FAIRFAX.
NET IW . 1. _M
Here is a story sent by a golfing 1
‘‘Standing one day on the first tee at
St. Andrews waiting my |urn to start,
a small caddie came up laboring un
der the burden of a very large kit of
clubs, nearly all Irons.
“ ‘Halloa, Jock, wha’s yer man?’ !
called out a brother caddie.
•‘The Tittle chap replied, ‘I dinna ken.
but,’ looking at his set. ‘I’m thinkin’
he’s a Glesga ironmonger.’ ’’
• * •
A park policeman, seeing a yellow dog
near two handsomely dressed women,
approaches respectfully, and says:
•Does this beautiful little creature
belong to you, ladies*”
Park Policeman (lifting his cane):
“Get out o’ here, you beast!”
• • *
Old Salt Yes. mum; them's men-o’-
Sweet Young Thing—How interesting!
And what are the little ones just in
Old Salt—Oh, them’s just tugs, mum
Sweet Young Thing—Oh, yes. of
coupse; tugs-of-war. I’ve heard of
* * •
Teacher—Well, Tommy, can you tell
me the meaning of ’repent’*
Tommy—I don’t know, sir.
Teacher—Well, suppose I stole a purse
and I got locked up, wouldn’t 1 repent?
Tommy—No, sir; you’d be sorry they
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P ERHAPS an amiable, but assur
edly a dangerous, assumption
is that on the part of parents,
and more ^especially on the part of
mothers, that their children have it in
them to be geniuses.
Little Johnny is seized with a ma
nia for appropriating opened envel
opes oik other available resources of
paper, and with a stump of pencil
traveling perpetually to his lips in or
der to produce fine shadow effects, Is
forever drawing cats with triangular
faces, eyes thnt arc anything but
round, noses well out of the perpen
dicular. and crooked horizontal lines
Or he makes an Irregular oblong,
from each lower corner of which he
lets fall a straight line, to each upper
corner he affixes another stroke, and
with a droit for head, a few dashes
for features, dots, for eyes, and a
triangle for a cocked hat, he pro
claims that he has drawn a soldier.
"The child will be an artist.”
j his gratified parents—"perhaps a
■ great artist.”'
He loves to perform, upon a cheap
cornet or a whistle. Then he will be
a great musician.
He writes rhymes conspicuous for
; everything but meter and rhyming.
Then he will be a poet.
And on some grant and uncertain
Indications—In a few eases, of course,
more serious and justified—it may r>e
his future is wrecked. His good, all
round development—that which would
serve to make a useful, capable man
of him—is lost sight of.
In a world of average men and
women, ambitious parents—more es-
I peclally mothers—are not satisfied
that their boys and girls shall be
I average. They are pressed, forced,
scolded and persuaded.
Ignorant of that first law of devel-
j CLEEK OF THE FORTY FACES
Bv T. W. HANSHAW.
“lb right by Doubleday, Page & Co.
TO-DAY’S 1N ST ALLMEN X-
SEE. No male servants at all
"No, sir; riot 1 one. There s
>s—the handy man as comes in
trin’s to do the rough work and
haulin’ and carryln* and things
that; and there’s the gardner and
Kompner—him as is Mr. Nos-
th’s assistant in the laboratory,
-but none of ’em is ever in the
se after 5 o’clock. Set against
n’ men sleep in the house was
Nosworth—swore as never an-
r should after him and Master
ry had their falling out. Why.
ire was that bitter he’d never
i allow Mr. Charles to set foot in
place, just because him and Mas-
Harry used to be friends—which
:es it precious hard on Miss Ren-
r, I can tell you."
is how? Is this ‘Mr. Charles' ron-
.ed with Miss Renfrew in any
■tare Old Skinflint.
jummy! yes, sir—he's her young
Been sweet on each other ever
e they was in pinafores; but
■r had no chance to marry be-
50 Mr. Charles—Mr. Charles
mmond is his full name, sits—he
l't one shillin’ to rub against an-
r, and Miss Renfrew she’s a little
se off than him. Never gets
lin'. I am told, for keepin’ house
her uncle—Just her food and
•in’ and clothes—and her slavin’
a nigger for him the whole
sed time. Keeps his books artd
■rintends the runnln’ of the house,
do. but never gets a brass
bin' for it, poor girl. I don’t like
ipeak ill of the dead, Mr. Head-
sir, hut this I must say: A rare
skinflint was Mr. Septimus Nos-
t h—wouldn't part with a groat
:ss tin war forced to. Rut praise
ler'll get her dues now', poor girl—
-s oid Pkinflllnt went and
iged his will without her know-
►An!” said CHek, with a strong
.c infection. ”His will was made
diss Renfrew’s favor, was it?”
\y v - That’s why her come and
V;;i with un and all his hard-
-f, dness—denytrf her the pleasure
, , n M i in’ her voting man just be
cause him and Master Harry had
been friends and playmates when t’
pair of un were Just boys in knick
ers and broad collars. There he a
stone heart for you.”
A Strange Beast.
‘‘Rather. Now one more question.
1 think you said it was Miss Ren
frew who gave the alarm when the
murder was discovered, Mr. Nippers.
How did she give it and to whom?”
"Fegs! To me and Mistress Anm-
royd, of course. Me and he war
sittin' in the kitchen havin' t .<• o’
supper at the time. Gorham, !»•■ war
there, too. in the beglnnin’; but un
didn’t stop, of course—’twouldn’t a
done, for the pair of us to be oft
‘‘Oh! Ts Gorham a constable,
“Aye—under constable second to
me. Got un appointed six months
ago. Him had just gone a bit of a
time when Miss Renfrew come ruahin'
in and shrieked out about the mur
der, but he heard the rumpus and
By WILLIAM F. KIRK.
HIS Is the friendship I would
Hard to win and hard to 1
Slow to seek a separation,
Quick to find an explanation ;
Smoldering In Its early days,
Growing like a forest blaze;
Through the seasons bravely liv
Never asking, ever giving;
Hearing doubters that desert you,
Heeding nothing meant to hurt
Watching all your faults to catch
Finding faults of his to match
Saying till the journey’s end,
“Right or wfong, he is my ftriend!”
Hard to win and hard to lose—
That is the friendship I would
came poundin’ back, of course. 1
dunno wfeat I’d a done if un hadn’a,
for Miso Renfrew, her went from one
faintin’ fit to another—’t was just
orful. Gorham helped I to carry her
up to the sittin’ room where Mistress
Armroyd burnt feathers under her
nose, and when we’d got her round
a hit we all three went outside and
round to the laboratory. That’s
when we first see the prints of the
animal's feet. Mistress Armroyd
spied ’em first—all over the flower
bed just under the laboratory win
Keeps Various Animals.
‘‘Oho! then that is what you meant
when you alluded to an ‘animal’ when
you pounced down upon us, was it?
I see. One word more; what kind of
an animal was It? Or, couldn't you
tell from the marks?”
"No, sir, I coulqn’t—nobody could
unless it might be Sir Ralph Droger.
He'll be like to if anybody. Keeps
all sorts of animals in Droger Park,
does Sir Ralph. One thing I can
swear to, though, sir; they wam't like
the footprints of any animal as 1
ever see. There be a picture o’ St
(George and the Dragon on the walls
o’ Town Hall at Birchampton, Mr.
Headland, sir, and them footprints
is more like the paws of that dra
gon than anything else l can call to
mind. Scaly and clawed they is—
like the thing as made ’em was part
bird and part beast—and they’re a
good twelve inches long, every one of
To Be Continued To-morrow.
To Make Amends
HED 23 YEARS
GATE CITY CENTAL ROOMS
Bt 7 WORK AT LOWEST PRICES
All Work Guaranteed.
:our» 8 to 6-Phone M. 1708-Sundaye 9-1
24' , Whitehall 6t. Over Brown A Allens
A STORY Is told of a certain Scot
tish magistrate who on rising one
morning found that he had over
slept himself, and had but a few min
utes in which to keep a most impor
tant appointment. Making a hurried
toilet, he rushed from the house and
hailed a passing cab.
“Drive me,” he said to the driver, "to
the police court with all possible speed.
On no account delay an instant.”
Faithful to his instructions, the driver
urged his speed to its very utmost.
Faster and faster they went until, after
an exciting drive, he deposited his fare
at his destination in time for the ap
pointment, but not before he had dam
aged a passing vehicle in his mad career.
The magistrate, on alighting, handed
him his fare with the addition of a
substantial tip. ar.ii then, to the man’s
astonishment, pressed thirty shillings
into his hand, at the same time saying:
“Here’s thirty shillings, my man; you
will be brought before me to-morrow
morning for furious driving, and I shall
fine you that
Nell Brinkley Says:
TF the sweet little ghost of my grandmother’s youth should rustle
-T into a little Chapeau Shop in this Springtime of nlneteen-thir-
teen she Avonld raise her little mitted hands to heaven in amaze—
for behind the glass eases she would find the very cocked hatR and
the same wee bonnets that she fitted over her black curls in eigh
teen-sixty-eight! Oh, have .you noticed them well—the “brLlid-
dies”—- like little wedding cakes, tiny bowler crowns—all pink
buds, field daisies, watered ribbon, brocade, flutings, with “stream
ers”—“flirtation ribbons,” or, as they were called in Paris,
“suives moi-jeune homme,” hanging down the back in an old, old
fashion long forgot? They are pushed down, too, over one’s nose,
and tilted up in the back. So look to the order of your back hair,
oh, Bettys, as you have not had to look since hats jammed down
to one’s shoulders, all around, for the last two years, for your
grand-dame’s hats are here, and the nape of your neck is once
more a thing of beauty to be gazed upon.
"THERE IS PLENTY OF
JOY TO GO ’ROUND”
T HERE Is plenty of Joy to go*
’round, you know.
To see this you’re Just about
bound, you know.
For the truth of it*s easily found—
It Is foolish to envy the chap who’s
For the thing is so sweetly and neatly
That although you’re still climbing
while he 1s on top—
If you’ll simply keep going and scorn
the word “stop,”
Why, you’ll get there at last,
And his hour may be past
When yours Is just found.
Oh, yes, I’ll be boimd
That the doctrine’s quite sound—
There is plenty of joy to go ’round.
There Is plenty of work to go 'pound,
, you know.
And your share can be easily found,
you know. ,
If to do your part you feel quite bound
A-looking for work that you only can
Or a-fitting your task If your task
won't At ymt
All the while eternly strtvlng to get to
Where the Joy of arriving it not that
When you get there at last.
You will find work’s not past:
But the secret is found
That we rise from the ground
By the weakness we’ve downed-—
There is plenty of Joy to go Tpund.
Yes, there's plenty of joy to go Tound,
By the beauty of striving you're
bound, my lad;
When your task and your duty are
found, be glad.
You’ll know when you’re working with
might and with will,
When you're seeking for power each
task to fulfill,
That there’s pleasure in ©limbing—no
thought of the goal;
That there's Joy In Just doing your
work, heart and soul.
So you’re sure to arrive,
And be keenly alive
To the bliss that is found
In the garb of w'ork gowned
Thus your labor Is crowned—
And thereifl plenty of i* *o 'vcuuul.
T HE patron looked like a generous
man, and the waiter had served
him an order, and now hovered
round the table. He evidently had not
been trained on the idea that a good
waiter is practically a noiseless one
who says nothing.
“Steak all right, sir?” said he, and
moved to the other side of the table.
When the steak had been tried, he
ventured, "Done enough, sir?”
"It will do,” was the reply.
There was another pause, and then
the waiter asked:
Potatoes cooked right, sir?”
The patron beckoned him to come
"When I can.e 1n here,” he said, "I
supposed, everything would be all
"I took it for granted, and ordered
on that theory.”
‘‘Of course, sir."
"And if there is anythisi-r wrong, I
might say confidently that there is an
excellent way to find It out.”
“Well, you just keep within ear
shot and say nothing, and if there Is
anything wrong I*1i talk’. T can do It.
And that tip—”
"You needn't keep working for It. I
don't need to be reminded that you’re
the man who waited on me. I never
can forget a noisy waiter, and always
’remember’ a wtttl one.”
He was not disturbed again.
opment which demands rest and lels*
ure for the proper growth of any fac
ulty, sortiebody is forever at their el
bows insisting that time is valuable*
that life Is short, that they shall re
member their talent and waste
If they would make a stir in the
world, they must be up and doing.
One has memories of weary-eyed,
spiritless or restless, fever-bright
children, in whom mothers sa.v
neither the anaemi \, nor nervelesa-
ness, nor sleeplessness, nor indigestion
consequent on long, close hours, and
overtaxed brains—nothing of these —
only that possible realisation of am
Intentions Are Good.
That mothers, in this relation, ara
inspired by excellent intentions* is not
In some rases, it is true, such ma
ternal ambition is the outcome of
mere selfish vanity.
The mother herself, it may be, has
never made one effort toward distinc
tion, and does not know the cost, but
her son or daughter shall, if training,
forcing and perpetual sspurring will
avail, be made to excel, in order that
she may share their glory.
Such mothers must be left out of
account—it is to be hoped they are
rare; at all events, nothing that can
be addressed to them from the stand
point of their children’s w’elfare will
be of the slightest use.
One speaks, therefore, to her who,
with the best intentions in the world,
strives to make geniuses of her aver
Y quite ungifted woman—the wife
of a mediocre, unsuccessful man—ob
served with an indignation amounting
almost to anger to the beautiful, tal
ented wife of a distinguished, well-
"1 can’t think how it 1s that my
children are not so clever and hand
some as yours.’’
And she continued to bewail and
admonish her children. "Why do you
not head your class as Clarence N—
“Why do you not play the piano and
sing, and carry yourself, and have
pretty manners like Julia N—T*
And eventually: "Why do you not
marry so successfully and get on in
the world so well as Julia and Clar
The explanation was manifest to alL
Julia and Clarence N— were ex
ceptionally gifted in both looks and
The others, to whom the N—s were
; perpetually held up as examples, were
average, healthy, hearty children,
| who, under a just and prudent up-
| bringing, would have made average
I useful members of society.
As it w’us, perpetually goaded to
| exhibit and develop qualities they
lacked, they proved failures.
Two Lives Wrecked.
The boy who, possessing KMS. nil-
round capacities, might hav. made
an excellent, contented man of busi-
ness, was ^converted by his mother’s
: teaching into becoming a neurotic
| and morose twelfth-rate poet, whom
nobody reads; while the daughter,
who might have been a happy wife
'and mother, a capable teacher or a
“helpful hospital nurse, wasted six or
| eight hours daily for seven long years
i vainly laboring to wrest music from
I a violin.
These two young lives have been
j absolutely sacrificed to a maternel
j ambition, udeked in its selfish disre-
gard of their shortcomings, their ac-
\ tual abilities and their personal well-
THE GRANDSON OF MICHAEL
OU are stupid and ugly, poor
Alexis. You are proud be
cause I have married you and
because I am beautiful. It flatters
you. Then so much the w r orse for me.
Byt you are a sport and not stingy,
which makes up for much, even for
your miserable appearance."
Thus spoke Anita Dumoulin, a
princess now, wife of the great-
grandson of Michel the Wolf.
He did not answer. Why should he
exert himself to do so? He married
Anita because he loved her. He knew
her past, but did not care.
He did not even get angry one
night when, returning home unex
pected, he found Anita in the arms of
a friend from the club. He simply
asked the friend to leave, as If he
were afraid of him.
"Well, yes! What about It?" cried
Anita furiously. “I have been un
faithful to you."
"Don't say anything," he said gen
H« seemed more discouraged than
annoyed. Then he went to his club,
and the next day he paid Anita's bills
Alexis then refused to pay any more
‘Don’t expect me to pay any of your
debts, Anita,” he said to his aston
ished wife. Then ho telephoned all
the tradespeople to stop her credit.
That right she was sitting In hex
bouaoir, completely crushed.
There was a knock at the door. It
was Alexis. She had been expecting
him for some time.
"I have been packing my suit case,"
"Your suit case! So you are going
away? And where to, may I ask?
Monte Carlo, Nlco, China?”
"T am going back to my own coun
"To your own country? With noth
ing but a suit case? You must be
crazy. How much money are you
going to leave me?"
"Nothing at all."
"What! You are not going to leave
me any money? Well, 1 am not going
to stand for it.”
And for a quarter of an hour she
ejaculated her rage lq the wildest,
coarsest and most insulting expres
sions. He listened to her without a
‘‘And what are you going to do
with your dirty money?” she scream
ed at last. "You have found another
woman, I suppose, who has spotted
you for the sucker that you are.”
Prince Alexis’ voice was very calm
as he replied:
"War has been declared, Anita. T
need all my money to turn it over to
my king to be used against the Turks.
When 1 get home 1 will enter the
army as a private.”
Anita was pale with rage. He was
even a greater fool than she had
"You want to be a soldier and
throw ydur money into that dirty
war! And what about me and my
bills and ray house? You are a selfish
scoundrel, like all men. You, a sol
dier! You make me laugh. You are
not even a man. You will die with
fright, If the weight of your knap
sack doesn’t kill you. You, a coward,
who did not even fight the man who
stole your wife from you!”
The Prince did not seem to hear
her. He shrugged his shoulders and
"I am going now. Au revotr,
His composure maddened her.
“You cow'ard!” she hissed, "you will
throw away your gun to run quicker,
just like all the rest of your miser
able countrymen, as soon as they see
the Turks. They will chase you like
the swine and curs you are. You must
be crazy to fight for a good-for-noth
ing mongrel country like your Ser-
She said no more. Alexis’ face had
suddenly become purple at her last
words. His fingers clutched his wife’s
throat and gripped it tightly until
she died. Then he left the room,
asked for his suit case, and said:
"Don’t disturb the Princess until to
morrow. She is asleep, but will ring
If she needs any one.’
He took the Orient express for
Nobody discovered the crime until
more than twelve hours later. Hos
tilities had already begun.
When an extradition order reached
the Servian general at the front, the
officer said respectfully to the Paris
“It is Alexis Petragorevitch you
want. Come, I will show him to
The bodies of four private soldiers
lay under a tent. Pointing to one of
them the General said with a salute:
"There he is.”
And everybody touched their caps
in respect for four heroes.
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