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THE
MAGAZINE
Not a Matter
A Power! ul Story of g ^ 1
"HIM THP I
A \\/ By MARVIN DANA from the
of Height
Adventure, Intrigue and Love ^ y
lillM 1 lie L
4 J\ W Play of BAYARD VEILLER
SYNOPSIS.
By BEATRICE FAIRFAX
O xr who h«* never taken need of
that very homely aaylni? that
“The greatest value* are done
up In I he smallest parcel*" write*
ihe following letter:
“I am 17 years «»f nK e and in spite
.«f mv age 1 am very short of stature
Many people often knock me, and c*s-
liacially young men in whose company
1 am. and others whom 1 do not know,
snd hardly think ! would like to know
nr the reason that they call me
Shorty.' 'Shrimp. ‘Little One.’ and
•thei names that Irritate me This
would not be so bad. but as 1 am very-
well aware of the fuct that 1 am short
H makes it twice as hard to hear
when they say such things.
•‘I try to ignore all the remarks they
make, hut ii in useless and 1 feel very
heartsick over them. When I go to a
dance or to a ball. 1 come home usual
ly vary depressed, as I know how to
dance quite well, and I seldom get a
Kood partner to dance with, as young
men, as well as other young ladies,
do not want to take a chance with a
little girl.
"I would feel very grateful If you
would advise me as to what 1 should
do. as l havu a desire to be popular
«nd jolly wherever I am, and often
these remarks mar all my pleasure
“OCTAVIJ8.”
Not Important
My dear Octavue. popularity is not
« matter of inches If it were, many
who are now the happiest, merriest,
most useful, most needed and best
loved of all humankind would find
themselves isolated and despised. And
other great, hulking, awkward, laxy
rwatures, slow in wit, loving and
aughter, would suddenly discover
popularity a popularity that in most
ases must carry Its measuring string
as an explanation
In the first place, you are not
through growing While the majority
no longer shoot upward after 20 Is
passed, there are instances of phys-
«! growth being still incomplete at
SO. You have at least three years
*f grace, and undoubteoly more.
1 can understand what a hardship
\ our short stature appears to you, but
I ask you to forget It lest brooding
over it result in a greater misfortune.
Jt is distressing to mourn for a few
nchf s in physical growth t
iremes that the mental and s id ritual
growth are retarded, and that is what
foi
instead of looking out, and that un
failingly results in dwarfed mentality
and a spiritual blindness.
Please try to look at it In this way:
The really great people of this world
l ave, with few exceptions, been those
of small stature. The useful ones
the helpful ones, those quick to sense
danger and alert in averting it, have
always been those who were short,
like yourself. But, unlike yourself,
they wasted no time mourning about
It.
If you will look among your friends
you will find the busiest women, the
happiest, the most useful, the quick-
< *t to serve are the smallest. In
every form of life, from the lowest to
the highest, the greatest dynamic
lower lias been put in the smallest
bodies. Tt is the bee, my dear, that Is
the emblem of Industry, and the first
sluggard the world ever knew had his
eyes directed toward the ant as a re
buke and an example. If you are
"helping mother” at home I w ill wager
>ou are u greater help than your
larger sisters If employed In an of
fice or store. I am not afraid to af
firm that you stand a better chance of
promotion, because you are quick in
y our movements
Is More Tidy.
A little woman is alwa> * more tiuv
Ilian one u ho I* larger Why this 1* I
■ an not explain, hut u button off, a
string hanging from a pettieout, a
tear in a waist are marks of a larg,
woman ruthei than of her birdlike
*iHter
You want to he popular, which
mean* you want to he loved. If you
* ■« fearful of becoming a spinster be-
1 ause of your size. dlsmlea niur fears.
The shorter Ihe woman the greater
lhe likelihood that she will marry and
the greater probability she will rule
’.-r home. And the woman-ruled
tomes are the most prosperous and
Happiest
1 do not like the names that nr-
given to you, hut I am sure tlnw
press the had taste of those who ap
ply them rather than dbrespect for
you We do not tease those we dls
like, tt e keep away from them. Ignore
them, and if we attack them tt 1* in a
manner that can not he likened to
teasing.
Your friends call you names because
they like you. It is not the kindest
wa> of showing regard, hut youth t«
as cruel in sh wing affection as In
showing hatred.
Since you can not b\ fretting add to
> our physical growth, return- to fret
remembering that If mu . onitnue to
worry you will dwarf your spiritual
and mental development
P
! Do Y ou Know—
Thrills of u novel kind are prom -
used for tourists to bit ily if an Anu ri-
• an hold proprietor ran rnriy out
bin plan*. lit- has bought the sit#* on
ihe summit of an inactive but not ex
tinct volcano, and will build a hotel
there. A special feature of tin hotel
will be an underground chamber on
the bed of the crater, with an aabes-
tos floor, where those who arc sated
with excitement can sleep in tin ex
pectation that the' ni i \ b«- call. .’ t
any minute by an eruption
“Barent Womens lends donkeys *.n
hire like his father, kills pigs, smokes
bains, and occupies himself with all
hinds of swinish detail work; also
shaves and cuts hair, except on Sun
days.'* runs the legend over a bar
ber's shop at Stierum, Holland.
There is a spot in America which
is solely inhabited by millionaire*.
This is Jekyl Island, which belongs
to a club composed of the millionaires
of New York. Boston and Philadel
phia.
i Mary Turner, after the death of
$ her father and mother, is forced
\ to make her own way in life. She
/ secures a position at the Kmpo-
£ Hum, a department store owned
< by Edward Colder, and. after five
£ years of bare existence, valuable
? silks are stolen from the store.
\ traced to Mary's department, and
? some <*f the goods found in her
"
{ girl is arrested and sentenced to
> three years in prison.
| After her conviction she tells
^ (reorge I >amarest. chief of Gilder's
y legal staff, that sh*- can show the
j merchant how to stop thievery In
f his store it garnted a ten-minute Iti-
) terview. The Interview is granted.
« and. handcuffed to a plain-clothes
f man. she enters Gilder’s private
( office. He enters Immediately af-
terward.
( Without mincing of words, Mary
? tells him that he can stop stealing
s bv paying his employees a living
? w age.
Now go on with the story
Copyright. 1918, by the Jf. K. Fly Com
pany. The play “Within the Iaiw" Is
copyrighted by Mr. Veiller and this
novelixation of It Is published by his
permission. The American Play Com
pany is the sole proprietor of the ex
clusive rights of the representation
and performance of “Within the I-aw”
in all languages.
TODAY’S INSTAI.I.M KNT.
“I wasn't forced to steal." came the
answer, spoken in the monotone that
had marked her utterance throughout
most of the interview “I wasn't forced
to steal, and I didn't steal. But. all
the same, that's the plea, as you call it.
that I'm making for the other girls
There are hundreds of them who steal
because they don't get enough to eat.
1 said I would tell you how to stop the
stealing Well, I have done It Give j
the girls a fair chance to he honesv You i
asked me for the names, Mr. Glider
There’s only one name on which to put
the blame for the whole business ami
that name is Kdward Gilder! . . . Now, j
won't you do something about It'.’"
At that naked question the owner oi
the store Jumped up from his chair and •
stood glowering at the girl who risked
a request so full of vituperation against
himself
“How dare you speak to me like this'.'" |
he thundered.
There was no disconcert exhibited !
by the one thus challenged, on the con- i
trary, she repeated her question with a i
simple dignity that still further out- j
raged the man.
“Won’t you please do something I
about it?"
“How dare you?'' he shouted again
Now. there was stark wonder In his
eyes as he put the question.
“Why, I dared." Mary Tufner ex
plained, “because you have done all j
'he harm you can to me. And now I’m
trying to give you the chance to do bet
ter by the others. You ask me why I
dare. I have a right to dare! I have
been straight all my life. I have wanted
decent food and warm clothes, and a
ttle happiness, all the time 1 have
worked for you, and i have gone with
out those things just to stay straight.
• • * The end of it all: You are
sending me to prison for something 1
didn't do. That’s why 1 dare!”
Cassidy, the officer in charge of Mary
Turner, had stood patiently beside her
all this while, always holding her by
the wrist. He had been mildly inter
ested in the verbal duel between the
big man of the department store and
Ibis convict of his own keeping. Vague
ly he had marveled at the success of
the frail girl in declaiming of her In
juries before the magnate. He hail felt
no particular Interest beyond that,
merely looking on as one might at any
entertaining spectacle The question at
issue was no concern of his. Ills sole
business was to take the girl away
when the Interview be ended. It oc
curred to him now that this might, in
fact, be the time to depart. It seemed.
Indeed, that the insistent reiteration of
the girl had at least left the owner of
the store quite powerless to answer.
It was possible, then, that It were wiser
the girl should be removed. WHh the
Idea in mind, lie stared inquiringly at
ilder until he caught that flustered
gentleman's eye. A nod from the mag
nate sufficed him. Gilder, In truth,
could not trust himself Just then to an
nudible command. He was seriously
disturbed by the gently spoken truths
that had Issued from the girl's lips. He
herself.
Gary strove vainly to free
Don’t, oh, don’t,” she gasped.
was not prepared with any answer,
though he hotly resented every word of
her accusation. So, when he caught the
questiton In the glance of the officer,
he felt a guilty sensation of relief as he
signified an affirmative by his gesture.
Realized What It Meant.
Cassidy faced about, and in his move
ment there was a tug at the wrist of
the girl that set her moving toward the
door. Her realization of what this
meant was shown in her final speech:
"Oh, he can take me now," she said,
bitterly. Then her voice rose above the
monotone that had contented her hither-
o. Into the music of her tones heat
something sinister, evilly vindictive, as
she faced about at the doorway to which
Cassidy had led her. Her face, as she
scrutinized once again the man at the
desk, was coldly malignant
“Three years isn't forever.’’ she said,
in a level voice. "When I come out, you
are going to pay for every minute of
them. Mr. Glider. There won't be a
day or an hour that I won't remember
hat at the lust it was your word sent
me to prison. And yoq are going to
pay me for that. You are going to pay
me for the live years 1 have starved
making money.for you—that, too! You
are going to pay me for all the things I
am losing to-day. and "
The girl thrust forth her left hand, on
that side where stood the officer. So
vigorous was her movement that Cassi
dy's clasp was thrown off the wrist.
But the bond between the two was not
broken, for from wrist to wrist showed
taut the steel than of the manacles.
The girl shook the links of her hand
cuffs In a gesture stronger than words.
In her final utterance to the agitated
man at the desk there was a cold threat,
a prophecy of disaster. From the sym
bol of her degradation she looked to the
man whose action had placed it there.
In the clashing of their glances, hers
won the victory, so that his eyes fell
before the menace In hers.
“You are going to pay me for this!"
she said. Her voice was little more
than a whisper, hut it was loud in the
listener's heart. “Yes, you are going to
pay—for this!"
CHAPTER VI.
Inferno.
They were grim years, those three
during which Mary Turner served her
sentence in Burnsing. There was no
time off for good behavolr. The girl
learned soon that the fayor of those
set In authority over her could only
he won at a cost against which her
evdry maidenly instinct revolted. So she
went through the inferno of days and
nights In a dreariness of suffering that
was deadly. Naturally, the life there
was altogether an evil thing. There was
the material ill ever present In the round
of wearisome physical toll, the coarse,
distasteful food. the hard, narrow
couch, the constant, gnawing Irksome
ness of Imprisonment, away from light
ami air. away from all that makes life
I worth while.
Yet. these afflictions were not the
worst injuries to mar the girl convict's
i life. That which bore upon her most
weightily and incessantly from which
j there was never any respite, the vicious-
j ness of this spot wherein she had been
cast through no fault of her own. Vile
ness was everywhere, visible in the
faces of many; and it was brimming
from the souls of more, subtly hideous.
The girl held herself rigidly from any
personal Intimacy with her fellows. To
some extent, at least, she could sepa
rate herself from their corruption in the
matter of personal association. But,
ever present, there was a secret energy
of vice that could not be escaped so
simply—nor. Indeed, by any device; that
breathed in the spiritual atmosphere it
self of the place. Always, this myye-
rlous, invisible, yet horribly potent, pow
er of sin was like & miasma throughout
the prison. Always it was striving to
reach her soul, to make her of Its own.
She fought the insidious, fetid force as
best she might.
Not Evil by Nature.
She was not evil by nature. She had
been well grounded in the principles of
righteousness. Nevertheless, though she
maintained the Integrity of her charac
ter. that character suffered from the
taint. There developed over the girl’s
original sensibility a shell of hardness,
which In time would surely come to
make her leas scrupulous In her reckon
ing of right and wrong. Yet, as a rule,
character remains the same throughout
life as to its prime essentials, and. In
this case. Mary Turner at the end of her
term was vitally almost as wholesome as
on the day when she bet an the serving
of the sentence. The ch. nge wrought
In her was chiefly of an internal sort.
The kindliness of her heart and her de
sire for the seemly joys of life were
unweakened. But over the better quali
ties of her nature was now spread a
crust of worldly hardness, a denial of
appeal to her sensibilities It was this
that would eventually bring her perilous
ly close to contented companioning with
crime
The best evidence of the fact that
Mary Turner’s soul was not fatally
soiled must be found in the fact that
still, at the expiration of her sentence,
she was fully resolved to live straight,
as the saying is which she had quoted
to Gilder. This, too. In the face of sure
knowledge as to the difficulties that
would beset the effort, and in the face
of the temptations offered to follow an
easier path.
There was, for example. Aggie Lynch,
n fellow convict, with whom she had a
slight degree of acquaintance, nothing
more. This young woman, a criminal by
training, offered allurements of illegiti
mate employment in the outer world
when they should he free. Mary en
dured the companionship with this pris
oner because a sixth sense proclaimed
the fact that here was one unmoral
rather than Immoral—and the difference
was mighty. For that reason Aggie
Lynch was not actively offensive, as
were mosi of the others. She was a
dainty little blonde, with a baby face,
in which were set two light-blue eyes,
of a sort to widen often in demure won
der over most things In a surprising and
naughty world. She had been convicted
of blackmail, and she made no pre
tense of innocence. Instead she was in
clined to boast over her ability to
bamboozle men at her will. She was a
natural actress of the ingenue role, and
in that pose she could unfailingly be
guile the heart of the wisest of worldly
men.
Perhaps the very keen student of
physiognomy might have discovered
grounds for suspecting her demureness
by reason of the thick, level brows that
cast a shadow on the bland innocence of
her face. For the rest, she possessed
a knack of rather harmless perversity, a
fair smattering of grammar and spell
ing. and a lively sense of humor within
her own limitations, with a particularly
small Intelligence in other directions.
Her one art was histrionics of the kind
that made an individual appeal. In
such, she was inimitable. She had been
reared in a criminal family, which must
excuse much. Long ago she had lost
track of her father; her mother she had
never known. Her one relation was a
brother of high standing as a pickpocket.
One principal reason of her success in
leading on men to make fools of them
selves over her, to their everlasting re
gret afterward, lay in the fact that, in
spito of all the gross irregularities of
her life, she remained chaste. She de
served no credit for such restraint,
since it was a matter purely of tempera
ment, not of resolve.
The girl saw in Mary Turner the pos
sibilities of a ladylike personality that
might mean much financial profit in the
devious ways of which she was a mis
tress With the frankness characteristic
of her, she proceeded to paint glowing
pictures of a. future shared to the un
doing of ardent and fatuous swains.
Mary Turner listened with curiosity, but
she was in. no wise moved to follow
such a life, even though it did not ne
cessitate anything worse than a fraudu
lent playing at love, without physical
degradation. So, she steadfastly con
tinued her refusals, to the great aston
ishment of Aggie, who actually could not
understand In the least, even while she
believed the other’s declaration of inno
cence of the crime for which she was
serving a sentence. But, for her own
part, such innocenoe had nothing to do
with the matter. Where, indeed, could
be the harm In making some old sinner
pay a round price for his folly? And
always, in response to every argument,
Mary shook her head in negation. She
would live straight.
Then the heavy brows of Aggie would
draw down a little, and the baby face
would harden.
"You will find that you are up against
a hell of a frost," she would declare,
brutally.
Prophecy Comes True.
Mary found the profane prophecy true.
Back in New York, she experienced a
poverty more ravaging than any she had
known in those five lean years of her
working in the store. She had been
absolutely penniless for two days, and
without food through the gnawing hours,
when she at last found employment of
the humblest in a milliner's shop. Fol
lowed a blessed interval in which she
worked contentedly, happy over the
meager stipend, since it served to give
her shelter and food honestly earned.
But the ways of the police are not al
ways those of ordinary decency. In due
time, an officer informed Mary’s em
ployer concerning the fact of her record
as a convict, and thereupon she was
at once discharged. The unfortunate
victim of the law came perilously close
to despair then. Yet, her spirit tri
umphed. and again she persevered in
that resolve to live straight. Finally,
for the second time, she secured a cheap
position in a oheip shop—only to be
again persecuted by the police, so that
she speedily lost the place.
To Be Continued To-morrow.
Lots of People Show Affection
Who Never Can Show Tact
By VIRGINIA TERHUNE VAN DE WATER.
W *K are often told that Love is
the biggest thing in the world.
Doubtless it is, but Tact comes
; in a good second. I am sure more
t people know how to manifest love
; than to exercise ta<*. if one does not
; believe this, let him listen for a little
I while to the remarks that are made
constantly in society, by ope’s friends,
I and in the family.
Only last week 1 beard a woman
| say to another whose voice is her for-
I tune and who, upon all occasions, is
I asked to sing:
"There Is a comfort for those of us
who possess no parlor tricks. It is
j that one can always be sure when she
is invited anywhere that she is want-
; ed for herself, not for anything she
can furnish in the way of entertain-
! ment.”
Spoke of the Village.
The singer smiled, and said noth-
; ing. it would be rather interesting to
; know just what she thought.
A voluble woman was talking with
! a clever man whose home is in a
j suburban town. He spoljc of being
| fond of the village in which he dwelt
"But do you know,” said the volu-
| ble woman, “that I always fancied
there was very good society there,
; but a man told me the other day that
he did not believe there were more
than two college* men in the entire
place. Is it true that there Is ho lit
tle culture in that beautiful spot?”
This man, too, smiled. He could
afford to, for he had made his mark
in tl\e world as a writer of things
that would live.
“My dear madam," he said, ‘‘that
statement was probably true, although
I have never looked into the matter—
perhaps because J, myself, am not a
college man.”
Of course, the woman was morti
fied. "How could I suspect,” she said
afterward, “that a man as clever as
that had never been to college?”
How, indeed—except by using hep
brains and imagination? Had she
done this she would have remembered
that one’s culture is not dependent
upon a university education, and that
while to go to college is a wise pro
ceeding for most men, many’leaders
in the world have not had* this op
portunity. Moreover, she might have
exercised her imagination to the ex
tent of considering that perhaps this
man, himself, might not in his youth
have had the money to take him
further than a high school course. But
the tactless person can not fancy
himself in the other person’s place.
Sometimes his inability to do this
leads him to make remarks that ap
peal to one’s sense of humor. A tact
less and unmusical man asked an ac
quaintance to play the violin at an
affair his wife and he proposed giv
ing the following week.
"But I am out of practice," the mu
sician reminded his would-be host,
"and I might not acquit myself well."
“Oh. never mind about that,” the
man reassured him. "We don’t ex
pect that people will listen to the
music, but we do want something
lively to fill in the gaps in the con
versation, so that there will be no
dreadful silences.”
Strange to say, the musician did not
feel as much honored as he had when
the matter was first broached to him.
"Doctor,” said a woman over the
telephone to her family physician one
stormy day, “this is the kind of
weather ir; which no creature except
a dog ought to go out. So I am keep
ing my husband, who it not well, at
home, and I am asking you to come
and see him.”
Let us hope that the physician ha-1
a sense of humor that made him
smile at the intimation conveeyd in
this speech.
Tact consists as much in saying the
pleasant thing as in avoiding the un
pleasant one. One of the most tact
ful of men found himself one evening
in an embarrassing position. He was
calling at a home in which the only
son, just returned from his first year
at college, was considered a prodigy
by his parents and sisters. The lad
was urged by his admiring family to
recite Kipling's "Ballad of the East
and West,” w hich he proceeded to do
with a grotesque effort at the dra
matic and with gestures that remind
ed one of a w indmill in a high gale.
Final Line “Orated.”
The tactful visitor avoided the ag
onized glances of his wife, who had
accompanied him upon this duty call,
and who knew that some comment
would be expected when the painful
performance was completed. At last
the final line was “orated” and tho
collegian looked to the man for com
ment. as did also the proud father,
mother and sisters.
“It must be a pleasure to you,” said
the tactful man to the lad, “to hava
such a good memory and, by it, to
give so much happiness to your dear
people when you come home.”
The situation was sa fofcr the
guest had been able in that moment
to put himself in the place of Ms
hosts. Which is hut another proof
that, to be tactful, one must have
imagination—and a strong one.
BKSjfr v?'
on the Love Affairs
of the Married
DOROTHY D1X WRITES ON A Pretty Girl’s Troubles
YJIThenever Bernard Shaw hurls his bolts of satire at “re-
spectability,” convention is set on its head and mock
modesty and false morality blushathis daring. But
thetruth is there, and, like the great surgeon of social ills that
he is, Shaw lays bare the truth, though he cuts to the bone.
In “Overruled”—he strikes at his dearest enemy—the sham
and fraud of the smugly respectable, conventionally moral
marriages of modern life. It’s brilliant, witty, clever; in a
word, it’s Shaw at his best. In it, he says:
By DOROTHY DIX.
a VOl’NG woman writes me a let-
ter in which she says:
x ^ “Will you plea?»• tell me why
it Is that a pretty girl is insulted at
every turn.' 1 cannot work in an of
fice without my employer falling in
love with me 1 cannot walk on the
street without being followed by men.
Isn’t It terrible'. ’
It eeitainly would be awful, Mabel,
if it were true, but methliiKs you flat
ter yourself. The reptile of the manli
er specie* is far too common in this
city, but the entire masculine portion
of the ■ ommunit> does not belong to
that loathsome family. The flirta
tious employer is also unhappily still
found in our midst, but he is a rather
rare bird. Most men have all the>
can do to hold their own with their
competitors, and have to hustle so
hard iv business hours that they have
no time tor flirtation, and are more
Interested in whether their stenogra
pher o in spell than they are in the
size and color of her eyes.
Likewise the statement that a
young woman can’t walk
: b*
fur to<
The largest opal
weighing seventeen «
$.100,000. ; ,nd belongs
Qt Austria
:lre men
the
world.
mail!
ta
ri is not convinc
in' law. because
common in
I women. Any
ude would draw
bout in a taxi
is a woman s duty to herself and every
other woman to turn the offender over
to tlu* qearest policeman, and appear
against him in court so that he may
get the proper punishment. This
course uf procedure would soon ex
terminate the street masher breed of
vermin.
A Bad Employer.
Also occasionally, but not very
often, a working girl has the ill luck
tq g»*t into the employ qf a man who
expects her to throw in her soul along
with her work, to hold her job. For
tunately there ure not many monsters
of this caliber, and when a woman
finds herself in tho clutches of such rt
one lu r only safet\ is to lice, as she
would from any other danger.
However, all of these perils to young
womanhood are not half as menacing
as they sound. The street masher is
% » str. ak in
him. who quails before tne contemp
tuous glance of a steady eye, and who
slinks a way at tin slightest Intima
tion that ho is going tit be punished
for his offense. As for the tlrtatious
- mploy. r. any girl with an ounce of
discretion in her head can sidestep
his obnoxious attentions, or. if this
can’t be done, she can put on her hat
and go out and look for another sit
uation.
Beauty doesn't have to be sacrificed
to the beast unless she ts willing to
be a v U tlm Nor doe* she have to i». j
contmua <• crying. “tTihami me. sir! *j
li e persecuted heroine in the m* Jo-
There are exceptions to every rule.
Occasionaly innocence is betrayed,
and virtue is persecuted, but. gener
ally speaking, the girl whose employer
makes love to her. and the young
woman who is followed on the streets,
have only themselves to blame They
have at least looked willing
The girl who is always rolling her
eyes at her employer, and looking sen
timentally at him, and who sits on the
desk.' 1 and swings her feet, and gives
the office, as far as she can. an atmos
phere of a boudoir, hasn’t any right to
complain when her employer chucks
her under the chin and calls her by
her Christian name and begins the
day's work with a kiss.
Her Own Fault.
She has brought it all on herself. If
she had been strictly business-like,
and concerned only with the work in
hand, he would have taken the cue
from her, and their conversation and
conduct w ould have been kept down to
brass tacks. You are not inspired to
demonstrations of an affectionate na
ture when your thoughts are settled
on hardware, or law cases.
And what right has the girl who
dresses flashily and conspicuously on
the street, and whose eyes are roving I
hither and thither in search of ad-1
miration, and who giggles and laughs’
loudly in public places to complain ifi
some man mistakes her for the sort of
woman she looks like instead of the.
kind of woman ehe is'.’ The girl who!
dre>se-- quietly, and w ho conducts j
herself with dignity, who keeps her
ey* s steadily befor her and goes i
sedately about her own affairs, can go;
unmolested from one end of the coun- •
an they meet. There are also a few
Lotharios that have no conscience to
ward any woman. But the great ma
jority of men take a woman at her
own valuation, and they would rather
help her than hurt her. If a girl is
foolish, and flirtatious, and weak, they
will tread the primrose path with her.
but if a girl is straight and strong,
and honest and good, they will respect
her for it, and back her up in her ef
fort to lead the right sort of life in
stead of try to pull down from it.
Frequently Imaginary.
In bewailing the danger that a girl
is in from the men she meets, my cor
respondent overlooKs the fact that
this peril if frequently Imaginary.
There is nothing more common than
for a woman’s vanity to make her
think that men are in love with her
when they are not. and that she is
pursued by those who, in reality, have
never given her a second thought.
Therefore, I advise my correspond
ent to pluck up her courage. Perhaps
she Is not as beautiful as she imag
ines. nor so ravishing to the mascu
line fancy, and she may even exagger
ate the danger that she Is in w hen she
daily takes her walks abroad. At any
rate. 1 will warrant that if she will
dress sensibly and act sensibly men
will not molest her.
**Oh, you never gave me the faintest hint
that you had a wife.”
‘‘I did, indeed- I discussed things with
you that only married people really un
derstand. I thought it the most delicate
way of letting you know/’
“Danger is delicious. But death isn’t.
We court the danger; but the real delight
is in escaping, after all.”
“As long as I have a want, I have a reason
for living Satisfaction is death.”
“To my English mind, passion is not rea’
passion without guilt. I am a red-
blooded man, Mrs. Lunn; I can’t help it.
The tragedy of my life is that I married,
when quite young, a woman whom I
couldn’t help being very fond of.”
“I longed for a guilty passion—for the
real thing—the wicked thing; and yet I
couldn’t care twopence for any other
woman when my wife was about.”
“Year after year went by; I felt my youth
slipping away without ever having had a
romance in my life; for marriage is all
very well; but it isn’t romance. There’s
nothing wrong in it, you see.”
led.
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Send for Catalog and Prieo List.
A. K. HAWKES CO. K 0 ° e D F A -?
’4_Wh 1.1,. : St., A'.mu. o*.
Yet under the shock of his audacity and the veneer of his wit
lies the deep-rooted truth of it all—for “G. B. S.” never writes
without a purpose. Splendidly illustrated with four of the
best drawings Charles Dana Gibson has ever made, “Over
ruled” appears in the May number of Hearst’s Magazine, a
number doubly noted for its wealth of good reading because
in it “The Woman Thou Gavest Me,” that masterpiece of
Hall Caine’s, reaches its most exciting climax.
At All Newsstands 15c the Copy
HEARST’S MAGAZINE
381 Fourth A venue
New York City