Newspaper Page Text
f
Married Life the Third Year
... 1
"N JT\ *1 1 1 i~Y T rv V ^ f P
- W a n f i
fn
:: A Girl’s Best Investment ::
By BEATRICE FAIRFAX.
By MABEL HERBERT URNER.
• • • J
Dcaiiiv oecreis oi
Dainty Marguerite Clarke, lhe Actre
i oeauu
is, Tells Girls Whal Si
111
mpl
i women :::
Rules Will Do
4 4 IJERK’S some of your thin
I fl from tin bathroom,” at
*- * Helen placed in the trui
and
trunk
tray the tooth brush, tooth paste and
bottle of glycerine, “i was afraid you
might forget them.’’
Alice, who was throwing her clothes
into her trunk with feverish haste, nod
ded an ungracious “Thank you.”
“Don’t you want me to help you
pack.' ventured Helen. ‘‘Your dresses
will be all mussed if you put them In
like that.”
”i don't care HOW’ mussed they are!
I don’t care for ANYTHING,” with an
ang y sob, “if only I can get home!”
' 1 m sorry you feel this way, Alice.
It s distressing to ail of us that your
visit should end so unpleasantly.”
Alice kept on rolling up and crush
ing in one garment after another. She
l ad swept everything out of the closet
a hd bureau drawers into a confused
' cap on the floor by tlie trunk, and she
vas packing them in regardless of how
t'loy would look when taken out. Her
lace was flushed, her hair disheveled,
and her eyes red and swollen from
weeping.
NVith a sigh at the hopelessness of
the situation. Helen went into the
library to he sure that nothing of Alice’s
was left in there.
"Belter order that taxi now, hadn’t
we? ’ demanded Warren. “Think she’ll
be ready by 9:15? That’ll give us
three-quarters of an hour to get down
there and check her trunk ”
"Yes, she’ll be ready—she's Just
throwing in her things! Oh, Warren,
it s too bad this thing had to happen!
I feel perfectly wretched!"
"Well, you’re a little fool to let it
upset you If she wants to make a
scene and insist on starting home this
time of night—that’s her lookout. It’s
not up to us to worry. Should think
why Warren wanted her She knew
he long drive with Alice would be in
drained, awkward silence, and he had
no intention of taking it alone.
The elevator boy came up for the
trunk. Warren got into his overcoat.
'id at the last moment Alice came out
of her room carrying her satchel. They
went down to the cab in silence. Helen
took the back seat beside Alice, while
Warren settled himself on the seat op
posite.
i he night air was heavy with a driz
zling mist. In a constrained silence
«-y gazed out at the wet pavements
and blurred street lights.
It was a relief when at last the cab
Irew up and they hurried into the sta-
ion. Warr- ’ '■ '* *' *m wMle he went
•t the ticket and cheok the trunk
When he ca.u ouck ne i.andetl Alice
an envelope.
"Your Pullman ticket’s in there, too.”
brusquely. "Nothing left but upper
berths.”
An Awkward Moment.
you'd be blamed ulad to get rid of her—
T am.”
The Explaining.
Oh, yes,. I know, hut she was going
home so soon, ’anyway: and now to
have her rush off tike this—and make
hard feelings between the whole fam
ily! How can we ever explain it?”
"We won’t. We’ll let her do the ex
plaining.”
“Oh, but she won’t tell it as it is—
shel’il never say that she left because
we followed her mother’s instructions
in not letting her see that man. She
may even make Aunt Kmrna think that
we”
“The deuce with what Aunt Emma
thinks!” as he strode over to the
phone.
While he ordered the taxi. Helen
again went in to Alice. She found her
1 rying to force down the trav in the
overcrowded trunk.
"Oh, you can’t close it like that! You
’ tyack your satchel and get, yourself
ready—I’ll lock this for you. Are you
sure everything's in?”
With difficulty Helen finally got the
trunk closed, but she had to call War
ren to Jock it. Alice, who was trying
on her veil, did not turn as he entered,
hut Helen could see that she was
. watching him in the mirror with angry
eyes. In grim silence Warren locked
the trunk, threw down the key and
stalked out.
Helen stood awkwardly pulling at
the end of the trunk strap, wanting to
say something to make the parting less
strained. But there was nothing re
lenting in Alice’s manner as she now
swept the key into her purse, took up
her gloves and announced coldly that
she was ready.
“The taxicab will be here in a mo
ment.” murmured Helen, "Warren or
dered it for a quarter past 9.” Then
with hesitating embarrassment: ”J’m
sorry you’re leaving live this, Alice,
1 feel that”
“Well, you needn’t be sorry” (cold
ly). “I’m very glad to go, and 1 think
you’re glad to have me go. 3,t was
a mistake that 1 came at all.”
What little sympathy Helen had for
hoe was chilled by this remark.
Warren Is Worried.
“Well, of course, Alice, if you feel
that way about it perhaps It’s just
as well that you're going. I’ll see if
i.c taxi's come.”
Helen hurried to look out of the
front room window, but the taxi had
not yet come. Warren, with his hands
thrust deep in his pockets, was walk
ing up and down the room—a trick
of his when worried—and he was plain
ly worried at this last performance of
his wayward cousin.
In Alice he had met some one that
he could not dominate. Because he
had sent this man away without letting
him see her, and had forbidden her to
even talk with him on the phone, Alice
uttd fiercely declared that she would go
home, that she would start that night.
She would listen neither to Helen’s
,pleadings nor to Warren’s angry or
ders. She declared if they did not take
her to the station that she would go
alone—that she would not stay another
night in their house. She knew’ there
was a 10 o’clock train, and she intended
to take it.
So they had no choice but to let her
go.
"Dear, she's impossible, exclaimed
Helen, turning from the window. ”1
teded to say something nice to her
.nisi now. but she cut me off by saying
she was glad to go. and that she knew
we were glad to have her go; that it was
. fnistake she ever came ”
"Hump! Well, she's got that about
right, f’ll write Aunt Emma to-night
and tell her a thing or two. This is
■ he result of her pampering and spoil
ing that girl all her life. There’s the
taxi now. Hustle and get on your
things.”
"Why, Warren, I'm not going!
“Like to know why you're not? Now’
harry and gel ready.”
Helen had not thought of going to
The train was made up, and they
passed through the gatt» and down
the long platform Warren led the
way into the sleeper, found the num
ber of the berth and deposfted Alice’s
bag on tlie red plush seat. Then came
the most awkward moment of all the
moment of parting.
“Well, Alice, I hope you will get
home all right.” Helen held out her
hand and made an uncertain embar
rassed movement a9 though to kiss her
good-bye, but Alice drew coldly back
and merely shook hands
"Thank you,” frigidly, “I’m sure 1
will."
“I’ll telegraph your mother from lhe
station here,” announced Warren, as he
said “Good-bye” with cold formality.
That was all. Still smarting under
Alice’s haughty refusal to kiss her.
Helen left the car with Warren. Out
side as they went back along the plat
form, she glanced up at the windows,
thinking that Alice might wave them a
more cordial good-bye. But when they
passed the window by which she sat,
her head was deliberately turned away.
Warren was striding angrily ahead,
walking so fast that Helen could hardly
keep up with him. He crossed over to
a telegraph window and wrote rapidly
on a yellow blank:
“Mrs. G. A. Willard,
“ Street, Dayton. Ohio.
“Alice starting for home to-night.
Meet her on the four-thirty to-morrow.
“W. E. CURTIS.”
“That's twelve words, dear,” looking
over his shoulder, “can’t you leave out
‘for' and some other word—there’s no
use paying for over ten.”
But Ignoring this bit of economy.
Warren shoved the telegram unchanged
toward the operator, and demanded:
“How much?” He flung down the 46
cents and left the window with a sar
castic:
“Well, that about ends this pleasing
little episode. Now I’ve just one more
thing to do—and that’s to write Aunt
Emma a piece of my mind. And I’ll
get that letter off to-night, too!“
“Oh, Warren, you must be careful
what you write! There’s no use caus
ing any more unpleasantness—now that
she’s gone.”
“Well, all the same. I’m going to
write a few things about that head
strong, snippish young lady that’ll open
her mother’s eyes.”
When they reached home It waa al
most 11, and Warren’s ardor for letter-
w’riting had weakened.
Not So Eager.
“Guess I’ll take my bath and turn
in,” he yawned, “and leave that letter
until morning.”
‘‘Yes, dear, I would; you’re too tired
to write it to-night,” urged Helen,
knowing that by morning his anger
would cool off and his letter be less se
vere. if he troubled to write 1t at all.”
But Helen's own indignation at Alice’s
conduct still smoldered. What story
would she tell w’hen she reached Da> -
ton? What excuse would she give for
starting home so suddenly at midnight?
Helen had seen enough of Alice to know
that she was not always truthful, and
she feared she would not hesitate to
exonerate herself at their expense.
Ever since her marriage Helen had
made It a point to keep tree from any
•‘mix-up" with any of Warren’s rela
tives. She dreaded their gossip and
criticism. For this reason she had been
reluctant to have Alice visit them, fear
ing it would end In some family ill-feel
ing.
And now that Alice had left highly
incensed, Helen felt she would be quite
capable of making still further trouble
for them all.
Cleek of the
Forty Faces
By T. W. HANSHAW.
Copyright by Doubleday, Page & Co.
TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT.
I out with hearts that alternate be
tween hope and fear were to ask
all the sweet-faced old. women they
know this question. “What is the best
Investment for a young girl to make?”
can you Imagine their answer?
I am very sure it would not be “In
the love of man.” for man’s love Is at
tended by much toil and regret and
pain. Neither would It be ‘‘In saving
your, money*" for the sweet-faced old
women have found out that there is
much more worth while.
T am sure that if one of these old
women would look back to the dav»
of her youth, she would reply: "My
best investment was tn the love of
one of my own sex. First my mother,
then my sister, then my daughter. !
have found- no love like the love of
these.”
A Mother’s Love.
It is vour mother. Uifle girl, who
loves you whftn no one else will, and
whose love lasts as long as she lives.
Her love is not dependent on your
wit, your beauty, your accomplish-
merits or your •worth in financial re
turns. She loves you because It is
YOU; she would love you if you were
all that is rape 11arit find hideous in
face and character
It is the Fove of a sister that
smoothes over the rough places that
even a mother can't comprehend. Her
youth make* her a more sympathetic
listener to the trlaJs of youth, and it
is the only love left in the wreck of
the home when mother has left it
foneVer.
A Sister's Love.
There is an understanding in a sis
ter’s love—a sympathy, a guidance
and strength. If two sisters love each
other, and each gives to the other
confidence is given without reservo
neither slater will go astray. A young
girl can make no better investment
than in the love of ap older sister, tor
the older sister, having so recently
trod the same path, knows all the pit-
falls on th< way. An older sister can
make no better investment than, vn
the love of the girl who is younger, for
the realization that she is th* guide
makes her autious of her own foot
steps.
When the years have come and
gone, and the girl who was shielded
by her mother's love and guided by
her sister’s, becofhes a mother, then
Life can make her no greater-gift than
the love of a daughter.
Son Falls in Love.
A son may Intend to take care of
hi» mother some day; many of them
do. bless them! But there are many
sons who fall in this obligation, and
but few daughters. The son falls in
love and marries, and his wife comes
first. The daughter never marries if
her marriage means that her mother
will be deprived of some one to love
her and make her a home.
It is the daughter who Ip patient,
and self-denying, and watchful and
tender when the years bring their in
firmities; it is the daughter who
stands between the mother and neg
lect, and who in more instances than
this unappreciative old world ever
knew’, sacrifices her own little happi
ness to take her place between her
mother and the poorhouse.
The best investment, girls, is not
in the love of the man who woos you
to-day and forgets you to-morrow. It
is an investment you will make. The
voice of nature commands it, but in
making this investment don’t slight
the love that will last longer, and that
is the love of your mother and sister
■■ A
1
jtti
e Bobbie’s
By WILLIAM F KIRK.
Pa
F & me was to n horse market
last week, I dident want to go,
but Pa wanted to go, beekause
he sed that a fretjd of his naimed
George Crowley wanted to go & buy a
teem of horses for his farm. So Pa
& me went to the horse market &
looked at sum horses.
Pa was the rnan that, interduced
Mister Orotyley Jto :fle man who
owned the horse , larket, & all the
way down to the market h e was tell
ing Mister Crowley what a wunder-
ful borgenn he. was going to get.
Moart of the horses that they have in
this market, Pa toald Mister Crowley,
is old thorobreds, the kind that Mis
ter Keene used to race at the track in
the days when racing was racing In
deed. It is true. Pti sed, that most
of the horses I mefifthun hah done a
littel l*te roadwork laJtly. such as on
St. cars et-c., but I am sure that you
will find them of. the good old stock
ihat sent Colip & Sysonby & Rose-
ben under the wire as winners.
I doant care for any blooded
horses, sed Mister Crowley. All I
want Is a cuppel of old skippers for
my farm. AH I want them to do is
to drag a plow aronnri kind of peace
ful, & not to think of the days wen
the bookmakers- had it all thare own
way.
He Was Surprised.
I thot all the time that Mister
Crowley was a piTtty smart man, &
I newer thought Pa knew’ very much
about horaes, but for onst 1 w as sur
prised in Pa. It turned out that he
These beautiful pictures are the latest taken of this oi.aiming actress,
who in the accompanying interview tells how she finds it eas> to retain
the freshness of youth through simple m* am
knew raoar than Mister Crowley did.
Pa A- and the man In the horse mar
ket showed Mister Crowley a lot of
good horses, but he kep saying No,
I want a slmpel, gentel team for
farm work. I want a team that will
not run away with the plow*, a team
that my wife can drive her guests
around with after they have done
thare days work on the farm, a cup-
pel of horses that is as trac-tabel &
eesy to drive as T am, sed Pa’s frend.
So w’e all went to another stabel.
I cud see that Pa dident want to go
to another place, & I knew’ that T
w’ud rather be <»ut sumwaje playing
ball with the kids, but we went to
this other place & thay showed a
team of horses that was the moast
tired looking team 1 ewer seen, excep
Roosevelt & Johnses after elecksbun
The rnan that was showir.-^ the
team to Pa’s frond iAim rite oaver &
leened his hed aggervst the hind heels
<.•1 *ooth horses. You see, already, he
sod, that thay are gentle, yet. Assure
as my name is August thay havent
kicked since September.
I think that is a team such as I
want, ped Mister Crowley. You may
send them up to-morrow. How much
are thay?
Pa Is Wise.
Wait a minnil, sed Pa, let me ex
plain. You doant w ant to buy a horse
or « team of horses without trying
them on a livery or sum other rig, to
see if thay are gentel. So Pa’s frend
asked the man August to hitch the
teem to a rig. I cud see that he
dident want to do it vary bad, but he
did it, & wen Mister Crowley & Pa
& me got in, the team ran away &
We had to be stopped by a policeman.
I thought you toald me these horses
was gentel. sed Pa’s frend to the man
that called hisself August, What
made them run aw’ay with me & my
frends»?
Go buy sum other horses sum-
ware elae, then, sed August. As sure
as my naim is August I rieffer seen
them run away in May before.
U
r
NDEED, Mr. Headland. I am
glad—1 am very, very glad—
that fortune has sent you into
this neighborhood at this terrible
time,” said Miss Renfrew’, when
Cleek was introduced. ”1 do not
wish to say anything disparaging of
Mr. Nippers, but you can see for your
self how unfitted such men as he anu
his assistant are to handle an affair
of this great import. Indeed, 1 can
not rid my mind of the thought that
if more competent police were on duty
here, the murder would not have hap
pened—in short, that the assassin,
whoever he may be, counted upon
the blundering methods of these men
as his passport to safety.”
“My own thought precisely," said
Cleek. "Mr. Nippers has given me a
brief outline of the affair—would you
mind giving me th e full details. Miss
Renfrew ? At what hour did Mr. Nos-
uorth go into his laboratory? Or don’t
you know, exactly?”
“Yes, 1 know to the fraction of a
moment, Mr. Headland. I was look
ing at my watch at the time. It was
* xactly eight minutes past seven. We
had heen. going over the monthly ac
counts together when he suddenly got
up, and without a word walked
through that door over there. It leads
to a covered passage connecting the
house proper with the laboratory.
That, as you may have heard, is a
circular building with a castellated
top. It was built wholly and solely
for the carrying on of his experi
ments. There is but one floor and one
window—a very small one about six
feet from the ground, and on the
side of the Round House which looks
way from this building. Nothing
, but the door to it is upon this side,
,'ight being supplied to the Interior by
j a roof constructed entirely of heavy
corrugated glass.”
i T see. Then the place is like a
huge tube.”
“Exactly—and lined entirely with
I hilled steel. Such few wooden ap
pliances as are necessary for the
equipment of the place are thickly
oated with asbestos. I made no com
ment w’hen my uncle rose and walked
in there without a word. I never do.
1 For the past six or seven months he
had been absorbed in working out the
details of a new’ invention; and I have
become used to his jumping up like
that and leaving me.”
• T© Be Continued To-morrow.
By LILIAN LAUFERTY.
F ROM "Happyland” to “Baby Mine”
—then on to ‘‘Little Snow White”:
and now’ to the part of Raffles-
made Amy Herrick in “Are You a
Crook?” has dainty Marguerite Clarke,
the actress, well known in Atlanta,
wended her triumphal way In six years
of growth In power and ambition. And
yet her face retains a sweet, childlike
untroubled quality that is very allur
ing.
“Where does she find the energy?“
I thought as she went eagerly through
the rehearsal of the third act twice,
and then with unflagging zeal started
off on act II—and “Where do you find
your unfailing enthusiasm?” I inquired
when she came over for a chat in a far
corner of the stage of the beautiful
new Longacre Theater, where I was
playing audience
‘‘Oh, l get it outdoors.” said the lit-
] tie star whose name just suggests her
] own sweet daintiness. ”1 don’i need
outdoor exercise because I get plenty
of exereise on the stage, but I do need
the wonderful, bracing, soothing, stimu
lating effects of fresh air. So 1 walk
and walk whenever I can—to and from
the theater around the block—just so I
am out in the air Sun, rain or wind,
I believe in fresh air.
“I take osteopathy, too- whenever f
ain too tired to exercise myself, for
that is a wonderful, lazy way of taking
your exercise—so luxurious!” Miss
Clarke laughed in pleased reminis
cence.
“You see, you can’t work and give
all the energy and force it deserves to
your work unless you keep your en
ergy up. So I go outdoors and get a
new supply of force. And 1 get on for
the longest whiles without vacations.
I went twenty whole months once with
out a bit of vacation—just getting made
over new each day by the wonderful
outdoor world.”
Gives Outdoors the Credit.
“Perhaps you give too much credit to
freeh air—maybe ii is just your own
private supply of energy and ambition
that works on unceasingly.” I sug
gested.
“I think not Ambition does keep you
keyed up and full of the desire to ad
vance. There you have the incentive,
and then you must take every possible
means to make yourself capable of car
rying out your ambitions
"Every spring I prescribe a wonderful
tonic for myself—dear, little new car
rots. I ice them till they are cold and
delicious—yes, really delicious- and then
I just add salt for a flavoring and eat
away. Quite raw. you know Just tr>
them and see how good they taste, and
they are good for more than taste, too.
They are a wonderful blood tonic and
purifier. They do make yOuh skin nice,”
added Miss Clarke ingenuously.
They do all of that for a smoother,
more absolutely guiltless-of-the-faint-
est-trace-of-powder skin than 'Miss
Marguerite Clarke's you never saw.
“Don’t you believe in cc
der, even?” I asked.
“Well, I have to be made up on the
stage all the time, you know—so be
tween whiles 1 like to give my skin
time to breathe. Absolutely just that
time to breathe. And besides the point
of view of the health of my skin, 1 do
so dislike seeing powder uncompromis
ingly betrayed by the glaring -sunlight.
Jt does look so FLAKY and F.\KY!
”1 have one little notion about ac
tresses. ami I suppose it applies to our
whole sex.” mused Miss Clarke. “We
must he veiled in a little mystery to he
truly charming Now, if you are paint
ed all pink and white, anti have shad
ows done under your eyes, and* fill the
paraphernalia of trying-to-be attractive,
how can you he elusive or mysterious
or charming, when there are all the se
crets of ‘how’ laid hare for the least
discerning eye to see?
No Tango Tea.
“In keeping with my
f do not go to the r<
And that works out 1
keeps me from.eating, 1
a. m.. ami saves healt
and hurries me along t
able hours.
“An actress, of all w
Her Favorite Photograph.
a of ‘mysteT
turants muc
anno) af
ford to dissipate, you know But then
no woman who wants to look her best
and to win success in the world can af
ford to dissipate, which means waste
her energies in any way. You can t
Use yourself up in food or excitement or
late hours and have any self left for
worth while things.” said the little lady,
sagely.
You have made a careful study of
taking care of the precious human body,
haven’t you?” asked the interviewer.
“Oh. there is a lot more to 1t,” re
plied the inierviewed. ‘T am very earn
est about the importance of cleanliness.
That sounds almost insulting as if ev
ery one else wern’t, too. But then if
people want to preserve the looks they
already have or acquire some more, they
must think about being clean, clean, all
(he time. Clean means clean from the
crown of your head to the tips of your
fingers, and to the soles of your little
pink feet, too. And it means that ev
erything you wear must be Just as sweet
and fresh as yen are. Somehow when
you are all clean and sweet and rested
and out of doors, you don’t get wick very
often
Being in Condition.
"That’s being in condition. I suppose.
Why, when I waa "Snow White” this
w’inter every one told me that I must
la* sure to rub my feet carefully in al
cohol or I’d catch dreadful oolds. I didn’t
-and I didn’t! 1 never dreamed what a
wonderful, free feeilng going without
shoes would give. I think it must he
good for us to go barefoot occasionally—
l did feel so aplendldly with my feet
free to my beloved air.
"But then i love free, untrammeled
motion of every kind. I don’t wear cor
sets off the stage. I don’t like them, and
1 am quite sure they were not thought
of in the original scheme of things. I
can’t see why we must be all wrapped
up and bound up, and kept hidden from
air and sunlight No shoes, no corsets
freedom and suppleness—wouldn’t t.haJ
be ideal?
“Women are agitating for so much
don’t you think they might agitate for
these health and beauty causes, too?”
T HERE was evidently something on
Mrs. Nerviss’ mind. For sev
eral days she had been very much
preoccupied, and finally Nerviss him
self, fearful that he might In some
way have been the cause of it. made
certain inquiries designed to clear up
the situation.
“I hope you didn't mind my com
ing in so late from the club last Tues
day night. Maria,” he said. “One
o'clock is an unholy hour. I know, hut
really I couldn't help it very well.
You see"——
“Not at all, James dear,” the good
lady answered. “I should hate to
have your friends think you were
henpecked. Really, I was glad you
stayed as, long a* you wanted to ”
Nerviss drew a deep sigh of relief.
• Then what is the matter with you,
Maria?" he demanded. “You can’t de
ceive me. You are worrying about
something ”
"l certainly am," said th© lady, her
voice tremulous. “I am very much
worried. Do you think the people at
our bank are honest. James?”
"Why. certainly,’’ laughed Nerviss.
“Whatever made you think they were
not ?”
“Well, something very strange has
Happened lately,” said Mrs. Nerviss,
Items of Interest
” Advice to the Lovelorn ::
By BEATRICE FAIRFAX.
GIVE UP BOTH.
D ear miss Fairfax:
I have gained the , acquaint-
of age who works in the same of
fice as I do. I did hot seem- to •
care for this young; .lady at first,
but as our ftcqu&lntance grew we
other ft company.
About two weeks ago I was in
troduced to another young lady,
18 years old. whom i seemed to
take a liking to when I met her.
I have not told either of the
young ladies tliat I cared, very
much for them.
our ages would spoil our future
happiness, as I know 1 can wfin
the love of this girl, whom I really
like the best, or would you advise
me to forget this girl and try’ my
friendship with a younger girl?
L. H. B.
Be a little fail’, young rnan, and
don't ask any girl to wait six years
for you. Let the waiting be on your
own part. Wait till you have earned
th- right to woo before you start
out to conquer. Bettering your finan
cial prospects means more to you than
Now the question is: I am 19
years old, earning $12 a week and
having the support of my mother
on my shoulders, which will keep
me from . getting married for
about at least six years. 1 would
then be 25 year's did'and fhe gif-1
in the first paragraph would he
Zl, Do you think the difference in
n EAR MI88 FAIRFAX:
1 Some time ago I met a
STICK TO THE GIRL.
FAIRFAX:
go I met a girl
keeping company with my
! churn, who was called away from
her. ami while away he told me that
| I ouhl call on her once in a while
This J Aid and tell a victim to her
\ charm! 1 . 1 won her love and lost
j my eh urn’s friendship.
’ This giri has shown that her love
for me Is strong, and what I want
to know is, what am I to do?
Here is a little proposal that 1
made to her: I would go away from
her, and then she could forget me,
win back her first lover and be hap
py with him Her answer was that
she did not want me to go, as she
loved no one else but me
H TNRT.
You love each other. That \ ct stands
out paramount to all claims of the other
man on heir love or on your friendship
I am sorry for him, hut his need of
sympathy would be greater if she mar
ried him while loving you.
KEEPING EVERLASTINGLY AT IT.
| A EAR MISS FAIRFAX
I am deeply in love with a
dear girl one year my junior. I
have reasons to believe that she
does not desire my company.
Kindly tell me how to win her
love. ANXIOUS.
Be attentive, courteous, generous,
kind and persistent
If all them- fail, try a Itltle indif
ference. Make love to another girl
Tiger, the remarkable cat of the
Great Eastern Railway Company’s goods
sheds at Peterborough, England, who is
reputed to he about 27 years old, is
pnacefukly.-. ending ., a life crowded with
rat extermination and other happy inci
dents. Few eats live much beyond M
or If. years. During her long life Tiger
is said to have killer thousands of rats.
She is a light tahhv. and came to the
sheds for refuge during a fire at a tim
ber yard close by over 26 years ago,
having been driven from her home in a
timber-stack by* the flames When she
dies she will leave a numerous progeny
of over 200 1o succeed her.
“Barent Wonters lends donkeys on
hire like his father, kills pigs, smokes
hams, and occupies himself with all
kinds of swlmsh detail work; also shaves
and cuts hair, except on Sunday.’ runs
the legend over a barber’s shop at
Stierum. Holland.
n
I*
KODAKS
"Tb« Be«t FkiMtlRQ and Enlara-
ln« Th«t Can Be ProduoR*."
Wwrrr.on Film* and com
plete alack amateur nupplloa.
Quick mall aerrlce for out-of-town ruatr.u^era.
Send for Catalog and Price Llat.
A. K. HAWKES CO. WR
14 Whitehall at.. Qi.
“and I think you ought to look into
it. You know you have been giving
me my allowance lately in bills, and
I have been depositing them at the
bank.”
“Yes. I am aware of that,” said
Nerviss.
"Well, somehow or other I don’t
like the looks of that receiving teller,
Janies,” said the lady, “and bo. for
the past three weeks I have been
putting my initials on every bill de
posited up in one corner, and yester
day Mr. (’leaver, the butcher. in
cashing a check for me handed one
of those marked notes!”
“Well, suppose he did?” di-manded
Nerviss. “What of it?”
“What of it?” echoed Mrs. Nerviss.
"What of It? Doesn’t that prove that
those bank people are letting other
people use my money ”
It was at this point that Nerviss
was attacked by a violent spasm of
coughing, which, in her description
of it to the doctor, Mrs. Nerviss de
clared was so like a laugh that at
first she believed her husband had
suddenly thought of something funny.
Praise This Remedy
For Lung Trouble
If the voluntarily written words of
grateful people, living in all parts of «
the country, praising Eckman’s Al- j
terative, a remedy for the treatment !
of roughs, colds, throat and lung 1
troubles, are to be believed, this med
icine is certainly doing a vast amount
of good for such sufferers. This is a
sample taken from many:
St. Mary’s Academy, O’Neill. Nebr.
“Gentlemen: About seven years
ago I waa attacked with Tubercu
losis. I coughed unceasingly, could
not sleep nqy eat. even could not
speak out loud and could do no work.
1 had three hemorrhages, raised blood
most of the tin;© and suffered with
night sweats, fever and chills. A
specialist of Columbus. Ohio, pro
nounced ray case hopeless.
"Nearly five years ago I heard of 1
your Alterative and procured some at |
once, with the result that I soon
found myself restored to health. I 1
consider your medicine, if faithfully |
taken, a most excellent remedy.
Mother Superior permits this testi
monial”
(Signed > SISTER MARIE.
Sisters of St. Francis.
(Above abbreviated; more on re
quest.)
Hickman’s Alterative has been
proven by many years' test to be
most efficacious in eases of severe '
Threat and Lung Affections, Bron-
chitis. Bronchial Asthma. Stubborn <
Colds and in upbuilding the system.
Does not contain narcotics, poisons or
habit-forming drugs. For sale by
all Jacobs’ drug stores and other 1
leading druggists. Write the Eck-
man Laboratory, Philadelphia, Pa., 1
for booklet telling of recoveries and
additional evidence.
■ t£