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The Manicure Lady By WILLIAM F KIRK GOT proposed to yesterday, said the Manicure "Lady, “by a gent that has nothing but mon ey and Is going to have a bungalow out in California. If it wasn’t that ho is so old and feeble-like I think 1 should have snapped him up. George, because I have always thought i wouid like to live -in a bungalow in i he summer, especially in California. The climate is so balmy there. I sup pose on account of there being so many balm trees. But I don't like to think of nursing a old gent during the last years of his life, especially as he might Mve to be 90. Father ha* the gout once in a while, and that taught me long ago never to marry old age and sore feet.” “I never thought that you would • are for a quiet life in a bungalow.” said the Head Barber. “¥011, with all > our life, charm and dash, I never figured that anything short of the Smart Set speed would make any Hit with you after you married. ’ A Kind of Feeling . "I always said that. George." ad mitted the Manicure Lady, "but lately there has been a kind of feeWng in my heart that I am getting sick of the city and city life. The old geezer that I was just telling you about! the one that proposed to me. took me out in his car, and we went along country roads all the afternoon. Gee, it seemed good and restful to hear song bird* instead of old clothes men, and to smell lilacs instead of the subway air. There had been some rain, and the sun was just commencing to shine ms vve drove along. Everything wa# growing except my affection for the old gent. He talked so much about money and all it could buy that 1 « ould almost imagine 1 was back in the cKy, so I looked away from him all I could and looked at the hills and meadows. “Do you know. George. 1 wish I ould meet some rich young farmer, ike you read about in the magazine stories—a man with serious blue eye* and the strength of a panther, the kind that speaks to his rough men In > ommanding tones, but purrs like a kitten when he comes home at night to greet his dainty little wife.” “Why don’t you try to win a hus band like that?” asked the Head Bar ber. “If you could nail one w ith plen t> of acres and a honest heart, it would be the real way for you to live. The wives of the neighbors could teach you how to keep up the house work on the farm, and you could teach them all the latest slang and scan dal. It would all be new for you and it would sure be new for them. Trv it.” A Fine Chanoe. "A fine, chance a girl has got to come in contact with a honest young rich farmer, toiling down here among barbers the way I do,” said the Man icure Lady. “There is a lot of eligi- bles comes in here to have their nails did, ain’t they? Fresh actors and boy comics and press agents and ex-book makers. On the level. George, I haven’t saw a gent in this place for a year now' that would even dare tu propose marriage to me without being sure of a quick getaway. No, the farmer boy that I would like to marry is far from me and from this life, and 1 guess 1 will never see him and he will never see me. Maybe he is sonre- w here dreaming of a girl like me now. and maybe sometimes when I am alone at night I dream of him. There comes that fresh ticket scalper now— nil gab and no tips no time. Oh. dear! What’s the use of getting away from ’em ?” Up-to-Date Jokes Reporter: "I’ve a good piece of news here this morning. I found a person who had been confined to one room his entire life." Editor: “Good! Send it up. Who is it?” Reporter: “Why, a three-day-old baby down at our house.” * * * Brown (to Robinson, who is reading a telegram with a look of anguish on his face): “What’s the matter, old fel low? Somebody dead?” Robinson (crushing telegram with both hands): “No: somebody alive! Twins!" * * * Hadsum—What side do you generally take when vour wife gets into an ar gument with somebody else? Wiseacre—Outside. Its safer. Guest—Why don't you put at least two oysters in your stew Waiter -We tried it. sir. but they used in quarrel. Parson-— Do you know where little boys go when they smoke? Boy Yes: up the alley. * * * He—Shall I bring you an <e while Miss* Yellfort is singing? Pi*.' take some. She (a rival of Miss Y.)—Thanks, no. If I took anything if would be chloroform. * * * She—And that scar. Major. Did you get it during an engagement. He (absently) —No; the first week of 01 ;r honeymoon! M R - RS. DOl’GLASS drew out her sewing dubiously. She glanced at the delicate embroidery that Mrs. Swift was working and at the gauze for a waist on which Mrs. Morton was deftly sewing beads. Then site sighed deeply. "I’ll have to explain to, you." she said, “why I've got this atrocious waist to finish. It’s a present!” All eyes turned to examine the work she held, it wa#i rather heavy In texture and of a peculiar shade that was neither a yellow nor a tan, but bore a tint resembling dish towels it was embroidered in brown silk, with stiff little vines of brown leaves running up the front like rail road tracks, and similar vines twin ing stiffly around the neck and cuffs. "I could cry!” complained Mrs. Douglass. "You see. my husband came in all elated last night and announced that he bad a present for me. He is the most horribly sensi tive man you ever saw. so when lie opened the package, though I almost screamed w hen I pictured myself in the dreadful thing. I had to rave over its alleged beauty to satisfy him. The worst of it is that he's so pleased lie wants me to wear it to the theater to-morrow evening. So I’ve got to get it finished and wear It.” A Warning. \ N evening coat of pale pink brocaded satin. The top is made as a kimono, cut witty the half sleeve, this being finished by high Ren- j kimono, cut witty the half sleeve, this bein alssance lace. The collar is of the new Medici shape, which will be worn for the next .season, made of cross-wired lace. At the hack an ormanent of cord finished by a tassel completes this collar. The fullness, at the height of the knees, is caught up in a high flounce of lace, the head of which is caught by a huge garland of big loses and foliage. Geek of the Forty Faces By T. W. HANSHAW. Copyright by Doubleday, Page & Co. TO-DAY’S INST A LLMENT. u NDER such Circumstances,” went on Miss Renfrew, “it was only natural that I should be horribly frightened, and only too willing to act upon the con stable's suggestion that we at once look into the Round House and see if everything was right with my un cle.” “Why should the constable suggest that?” “Everybody in the neighborhood knows of the bitter ill feeling exist ing between the two men; so, of course, it was only natural.” "Hum-m-m! Yes! Just so. Did you act on Constable Gorham's sug gestion then?” “Yes. 1 led the way in here and then up the covered passage to thp laboratory and opened the door. My uncle was sitting exactly as lie had been when 1 looked in before—his back to me and his face to the win dow—but although he did not turn, his beat, and I flew as fast as 1 could to meet Mr. Drummond. It is only a short way to the old bridge at best, and by taking that short cut through the grounds I was there in less than ten minutes. And by 8:30-1 was back here in a greater state of terror than before.” t "And why? Were you so much alarmed that Mr. Drummond did no f keep t!ie appointment?” The Fleeing Man. it was evident that he was annbyed by my disturbing him. for he growled angrily. ‘What the devil are you com ing in here and disturbing me lik- this for. Jane? Get out and leave m< alone!’ ” “Hum-m-m!” said Uleek, drawing down his brows and pinching his chin. "Any mirrors in the Round House?” “Mirrors? No: certainly not. Mr Headland. Why?” “I See What You Mean. No. That did not worry me at all. He is often unable to keep his ap pointments with me. He is tilling the post of private secretary to a larg • company promotor, and his time is not his own. What terrified me was that, after waiting a few minutes for him. I heard somebody running along the road, and a few' moments later Sir Ralph Droger dew by me as if iie were being pursued. Under ordinary circumstances I should have thought that he was getting into training for the autumn sports (he is. you may know, very keen on athletics, and holes the County Club’s Cup for running and jumping), but w.hon 1 remem bered what Constable Gorham had said and saw that Sir Ralph was running from the direction of this house, all my wits flew; I got into ;< sort of panic and almost collapse! with fright.” "And all because the man was com ing from the direction of this house?” To Be Continued To-morrow. "Nothing—only that l was wonder ing if, as you say, he never turned and you never spoke, how in the world he knew that it really was you. I that’s all." I “Oh. 1 see what you mean.” said i Miss Renfrew, knotting up her brows, j It does seem a little peculiar when i one looks at it in that way. I never I thought of it before. Neither can I ' • xplain it. Mr. Headland, any more j than to say that I suppose he took it for granted. And, as it happened, he was right Besides, as you will remember, I had intruded upon him only a short time before 1 .” "Quite bo," said (Mock? "That’s what makes it appear stranger than ever. Under the circumstances one might have expected him to - u not ‘What are you coming in here for?’ 1 ‘M i again.’ Still, of course, there’s no accounting for litile lapses like that. Go on, please—what next?” “Why, of course. I immediately px- plaincd what ConstaVe Gorham had said, and why l had looked in. To which he replied, ‘The man’s an ass Get out!’ Upon which T closed the door and the constable and 1 went Machine for Composers u E > VERYTH chinery VERYTH IXG is done by ma- nowadays,” has been ommon expression for a decade or more. andVvery ' ear brings it nearer the truth. One of the latest inventions is a device for writing mu sic by machinery. A Swedish inventor named Nystrom invented the apparatus, which may be used In connection with any key board. either piano or organ. It is operated by means of electricity, and when a piece of music is played in the ordinary wav. this device, called a "melograph,” records the sounds on a chemically ?>repared ribbon, which has been treated with a preparation of wax to allow the impressions for each away at once. “Constable there with you during it all then?” Yes. certainly—in the covered I passage just behind me. He saw anti ■ teard it all: though, of course, nei- ; ther of us entered the laboratory it self. There was really no necessity 1 when we knew that my uncle wa« 4 afe and sound, you ; Quite so,” agreed deck. “So you ni the door and went away—tand 1 hen what?" * rUorrstable Gorham went back t> After the music has been played the ribbon may be removed and read, just ;i“ one would read shorthand notes or the telegraph code. And in reading it the proper notations may be made, when—presto—there is the music, ac tually “written by machinery.” one of the greatest values of this invention is to composers. A com poser may finally strike exactly what he wants and play it as though in spired. Under the old method he had cither to memorize it by playing it over and over, and then writing it. or jot it down, note by note. With the aid of this invention he may play his Composition, remove the ribbon, and j there it is. ready to copy into lasting four.. Another feature of this inven- j tion is that the ribbon may be placed I in ** specialh constructed player and | played as ordinary music rolls are put 1 into a mechanical piano and pla\ed.* “Oh. you poor dear!'' Lillie Mrs. Jones' voice was filled with pity and sympathy. “You'll be sorry. "I know how be got that dreadful waist.' went on Mrs. Jones. "My husband years ago was taken in by the same kind of agent. He brought me home what he thought a wonder ful hand-embroidered waist direct from Armenia! 1 hated to hurt his feelings, for it was when we were first married, but I lived to regret the false enthusiasm I displayed to gratify him. For what do you think? The very next day he came in all smiles and said that as luck would have it he had run across the same man while he was visiting some other man's office, and lie bought me three more waists! “Then 1 plainly told him what I really thought of the horrid things Since that time 1 have tried to edu cate him up to sonic slight knowl edge of what’s stylish in women’s dress -and he’s all over his hurt feel ings. It had to be. I couldn’t have endured any more such presents." "That reminds me.” said Mrs. Swift, “or* the time my husband went East when we were very young. I had a friend whose husband always brought her things when he went on trips, and I was jealous. So I told my husband that 1 expected him to bring me a present. He said he would. So 1 waited anxiously for his return, imagining all sorts of lovely things When he took out a big package from his suitcase I fairly trembled with eagerness to open it. What do you suppose! It was twen ty yards of purple wool goods, for a dress! Purple, of all colors! Why, purple in those days was regarded as a simply impossible color. I never asked him to bring me another pres ent. i preferred the money; then I could choose what I wanted. ’ He Was Crazy. “My husband was just as bad,” re marked Mrs. Horton. "He was crazy to surprise* people. if l ever men tioned a thing l wanted 1 was sure not to get it; at least, if I seemed to expect it. But one Christmas I was simply wild for a little French clock. I had looked at them sv> much and dreamed of them so often that it did not seem as if there could be any other kind In the world. I couldn't help wishing out loud for one. Frank heard me. but he thought he'd sur prise me the other way this time by actually giving me what I wanted. “When Christmas morning came, there at my place at breakfast was a big black walnut dock—the kind that you find in school rooms and kitch ens. My heart stopped beating for a second, and I could have cried for vexation! 1 had so wanted a little glass and gold French thing for my dainty room! He didn’t remember what kind of clock I wanted, and he liked the solid clock, with a nice clear face and big hands, that made a good loud noise when ir struck the hour.” A New Pet. “Did I ever tell you about the time my husband brought home a ferret, one of those dreadful little animals that bite and burrow in the ground'.”' asked Mrs. Tortman. "fie bought the ■ ■ I mac w p kep fei rets for hunting. Think of beeping a ferret in a little four-room Mat! There we had that smelly animal for four whole months before 1 got up courage enougli to say that I didn't love him too much to part with his company, willingly! That ferret was a birth day present, you know!" Mrs* Douglass smiled woefully. “They're a'i dreadful," she conceded, "but you didn’t have to wear your clock or your ferret or your purple dress! My husband believes that 1 was sincere in my praise of this waist and I can’t tell him now that 1 hate the thing! And to the theater!” Mrs. Douglass dropped a tear on the waist, then glanced at the clock and hastened her stitches. Result; Dead Heat. IT was a fateful day for Pottleby. the 1 corn plaster king, when, having made his pile, he decided to settle down and buy a real estate in Bonnie Scotland with his money. But no one warned him. and he in time became one of the real, old-fash ioned lain • and immensely popular. So popular, indeed, that he was invited to act a-’ judge of the pipers at the local sports gathering. So he sat away in a small tent, while the pipers strutted and puffed at their windy instruments to end fro in front. Every reel and horn-pipe In Scotland had squealed and droned it* wav to lif*-, and now here was the silence of the grave. Hut no sign from the judge One of the officials hurried off to get the verdict. "Who’s won?” came in a chorus of hoarse whispers, as he reappeared. “I dinna ken wia’s won,” he an- swpved; “but ane o’ ye’s kilt th‘ puir laird!” Foresight. "Mr. Grimes." said the rector to the vestryman, "we had better take up the collection before the sermon this morn- inf.!" “Indeed. “Yes. I'm going to preach «*n scon- Naturally. Muggics Whatever betaine of that frit-nil of yours who used to have money to burn? Huggins— He's sifting the ashes. - A Cloak for Lvemng Wear A Frenchy Model of Ultra Attractiveness Husband’s Gifts If You Are a Wife You’ll Appreciate This Advice to the Lovelorn Red Velva Molasses Candy Bring one quart of RED VELVA to a boil: add best butter, keep stirring until svrup hardens when dropped into cold water. Urease pans, pour candy on them to coo! Whet t ool , enough to handle, pull i candy from tips of fingers until it be comes a golden color. A Just try Velva wttb this recipe and see how fine it Is. You’ll get flavor a£ its very best and quail; 7 at its finest. There isn’t anything like Velva for waffles, griddle cakes or candy any where, by any name—i here's nothing made that is as good as In-the red can for making candles and bsking cakes It has more than syrup flavor—It has Velva flavor, that makes telling about It Impossible You must taste it to know what we mean Will you? Ten rents up. in c-ean. sanitary cans Velva in the green cans. too. at your grocer’s. PENICK & FORD, L td. New Orleans. La Send for the book of Velva Recipe*. No charge. By BEATRICE FAIRFAX. YOU ARE TOO YOUNG. I \ EAR MISS FAIRFAX * ^ 1 am a young man, eighteen yc;ars of ago, and I am desperately | in love with a girl 29 years of age. Sire has the most beautiful eyes and hair, and ruby red lips, and a style that can't be beat. 1 don’t know' | whether she loves me or not; I haven’t asked her yet. I can’t get up enough courage to ask her. Tell me how I must begin. I think site likes me. for one of my friends told me that she speaks well of me. JACOB. I will not tell you how to begin, for I the reason that you are too young. The girl is eleven years your senior, and I when you are old enough to love with 1 reason you will look hack and laugh at ' the value you are now placing on her ; good looks. P Small black Tagal bat with a huge tuft of black aigrettes disposed in the shape of a fan. Small brim is slightly rolled on the side. :: ‘‘The Land of Make-Believe” :: H 3LEN burst into the little stu dio, breathless from the climb of dark stairs, and threw her arms about th** neck of the tall fol low who was seated before the east-1. “Greg, Greg!” site exclaimed. "What do you think? I’ve accepted a posi tion—and I’m going to begin to morrow! ” Greg put dow n his brush and gently pulled her arms away. “A—a position, Helen." in -'tnm- mered. “What do you mean?” “If you think I'm going to sit still and do nothing when we need money, you’re mistaken.” she broke in. I found a position as—as governess to a dear little girl. They’re to pay me a pound a week. That will do a lot of good, Greg, until those horrid art editors begin to appreciate your work.” Greg rose and held both her hands, with a suspicious moisture gathering in his gray eyes. “But, Helen,” he protested, “1 can't allow’ you to work, dear. T simply won't listen, that’s all. We can get along somehow for the time.” She cuddled up within his embrace. “Now, do be considerate, Greg,” slu argued. “The people are nice, and the little girl seems to like me very much. And it isn’t work at all. dear. Why, I'm only to take the girl out for walks. It’ll be fun.” "I know, Helen,” he said, w ith some thing like a choke in his throat; "but It’s the principle of the thing. Th idea of a big. strong man like m< sitting here and you out working” Words of Praise. “There, there,” sk- in '■rruptHi. clapping a hand to his mouth. "We’ve discussed that before. Any ordinary man can find work. That is easy You must remember you’re a genius —that you’re striving for something worth gaining '' He laughed at her rambling, <arn- eet argument. "I'm not so sure of being a genius." he declared, kissing her. “No one appears to think so except you. However. 1 suppose you must have it your way.” So the following morning, bubbling over with enthusiasm, she tripped off to her duties. Greg watched medi tatively from the studio window. ait erward sitting down before the eas< 1, working on the cover promised foi that day. Everything had been differ -nt since their arrival in London. In the prov inces, on the newspaper, lie had mad-* a good living, and H . orl thought of. Here he had to fight - ven for an Interview, and his drawings were returned with ever increasing regularity. Luckily, he found some advertising pamphlets to illustrate, and a few of the bent pictures sold to a second-class magazine that paid neither well nor promptly but th< little helped. II. A dozen times, that long, lonesome day, Greg dropped ins work and stared moodily out of the window. Helen’s work was pot hard but. after all, it was not light. Rather, a thousand times, had he remained in Lancashire, with his small but reg ular salary, than be here when* no one cared—and where Helen had to work. In the evening she came back, kiss ed him eagerly, and fell to work pre paring supper. "You can’t imagine what a glori ous time we had. the little Kir! and I. Greg,” she broke out “Her name’s Margie. We took a long walk out in th% park, and ban our bun* cuiu things on the grass. I don’t see where the day lias gone. Were you lonesome, dear old genius?” He laughed, rolled himself a cigar ette, while she brought a match and lighted it for him, afterward sitting on the arm of the chair. Supper over, he went to work again, while she leaned over the table and watched him—love, admiration and faith shin ing in the depths of her big eyes. Thus the day slipped by. Helen departed early. Work fell off more than ever. He sickened of the weary rounds. Day in and day mR be met with tlm same cun refusals. His work was gone—he knew it. But they would never take the trouble to ex amine his sheets. Helen’s little wage helped matters along to no small ex tent. although it pained him to real ize it. As tile days sped on into weeks, Helen seemed to grow quieter than usual; her cheeks did not look .as fresh, nor her eyes as bright as they should. Greg noticed every little thing with something of a grip at his hear?; but whenever he mentioned tin* fact she laughed and told him his eyesight was growing very had. Near the Crisis. One day Greg ;n.-sed his di*; 1 wing- board across the room, and stood very straight, very determined, before the window. Two weeks had passed since he had sold his last drawing. I * Things were approaching a cr isis. It could not go on for ever' this way. An hour later, with a strangely j thumping heart. h< was out in the j street. Helen should not be the only breadwinner. Genius was all right in its place, but it did not bring in a living. H» remembered suddenly a sign that bung in .1 factory window a few streets away. Without slacken ing bis speed, he turned down the! street and went boldly into the office. A stout, red-faced man met him. and asked a few qu* stlons. Five minutes later Greg had donned a pair of overalls and was loading paper boxes into a dray, in return for this he was to get shillings a week. He reached home that night before Helen did, cleaned up a bit and awaited her coming. As her first foot step sounded on the stairs he threw , open the door and took her in his arms. “What do you think. Helen?” he cried. "I’m really working at last, j T’m on the staff of th* Tribune, and I know I’ll be ah right. You needn’t) work any more after to-night.” that it was from the Tribune Maga zine. It was in their hands he had entrusted a bundle of his best work. Trembling, he tore it open and read the short letter: Good News. Mr. Greg Hamilton. Hareourt Studios: Dear Sir—Your drawings have been found acceptable, and we should be glad to confer with you about regular work. Yours truly, H. H. HALL. Greg sank wearily to the couch, stunned with the sudden good news. Was ii possible, after all, that he was to become a regular contributor to tli* magazine—the best magazine in the city? Helen need never learn about the factory now. and all the white lies would be forgotten. She could not come home soon enough now. Wouldn’t it be a glori ous surprise for her—this note? She must have been right, after all, in de claring he was a genius. There were steps in the hall now It must be Helen, He came to his leet and rushed across to the door, throwing it wide open. Helen was outside. With a cry he W’avcd the letter badly before her. "Helen. Helen." he blurted out. "Everything is all right. I’m to join the staff of the Tribune, and" Something choked in his throat, and the very room appeared to reel for tin moment. Helen was through the door now and in the yellow glare of the lights, and wrapped about her right hand was his blue-bordered handkerchief. ii EO p LB ask ‘What's in a name?’ remarked the bos’n to the other boarders, who had eaten everything in sight and were still loath to leave the table, "but there i«* an awful lot in a name. “Once 1 knew a woman who named her son Roderick. The old man was at sea at the time, and when he got home and saw what the old lady had done he got six months' bu-rd labor. "He said to his wife: How in thunder are you going to make a sailor out of a boy with a ribbon counter name like that?' " He ain’t going to be a sailor,’ an swered the old ladv. Then the six months’ hard labor got after the old 'man from that point. It reached him the next morning at 10 o'clock. "It stood to reason that a boy named Roderick couldn’t be a sailor. That’s why hip mother gave him the name. It was more tonnage than the law allowed. "Again the old man went to sea, and his wife named the next son Kenneth Orlando. The old man got a year for that. It was a cinch that 1 boy named Kenneth Orlando could never be a sailor, either. "The old man never was quite him self after that. He said he never heard of a sailor raising male mil liners before. He felt that the dis grace was terrible! Called Him Zob. "He stayed away from the sea to be on hand at the next christening, and he named th boy Zob. We all thought he was goin’ it rather strong to give a kid such a name as that But he said he wanted to fix him so he could get a job on a sand scow, and that would -sort of even up on the rest of the family that had gone in for millinery. “He hung around for another year or two waiting for a chance to name a boy Dub. so that he could get a job on a garbage boat, but luck was against him. "The old man would come home with a good supply of tobacco and he and Zob would sit up and smoke and swear and chew like good fei- lovvp. But if Kenneth Orlando as much as looked at a pipe—whang! He heard from his ma. And Rod erick had to have clean hands all the time. Those two boys did everlast ingly hate their lot. They had to go to school and sit up straight, nr.d be nice all the time. "The other, Zob, sal around in over alls. and his dad would hand Zob nisi plug every time he took a chew him self. The Outcome. “The r*‘sult was bad," said the bov’n. “You wouldn’t believe it. but when their ma was sick with a fever those two clean boys ran away from home, finf got a job on a collier, and the v>the- on a hog schooner, so they couid be dirty and tough all the time.” "And what became of Zob?” "Oh. Zobbie? After the old man died Zobbie took to society and went around looking like a wedding usher. 1 think he got a situation as la* e salesman.” “0h, Dear No!” A Dill, forced by her parents info a disagreeable match with an old man, whom she detested, when the clergy man came to that part of the service where the bride is asked if she consents to take the bridegroom for her husband, sold with grout simplicity: "Oh. dear, no, sir! But you are the first person who has asked my opinion about the matter.” His Wife’s Aim. "The object of the average explorer seems to be to acquire enough material for a lecture.” "Yes: that is my wife’s aim when she explores my pockets.” 111. Two more weeks passed. Gregg! manage l to get off from the factory j before Helen arrived home. He tried; each night 10 bring home some little trifle that w’ould please her; a flower.l a box of sweets or some cheering news. Over the supper table they j would exchange the day’s experi ences. Oite das at the factory busilj pack-1 ing bis boxes into the over-empty j dray a girl came running down the uppet floor. “Got a handkerchief?" she inquired.! anxiously. "One of the folders has c ut her hand.” Greg straightened, pulled out a i freshly ironed, blue-bordered one that! Helen had given him that morning, and gave it to the waiting girl. An hour later he had forgott* n it. That night, a.- usual, lie was first! to arrive at the studio. A letter, pushed beneath the door. * uiight his eye. IF* picked it up. noting with! a sudden tightening at his t hi oat mm