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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. - -»*« 4JfcJlM . r «is KODAKS TM Boit FlatehlM mb4 Ealtff- 1*0 Tti«* Can Be Pr*0*eed.* I rinmv fliim *!Kt pice nock amf.Bur suppttw. Qiiu-k tea 'M out y -w "U*tf :..*r* 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