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I L in Not a Matter of Height A Powerful Story of Ad- J ¥ T* U I ]\J 'T' U P I \ \\ j B V MARVIN DANA, from the j venture, Intrigue and Love T Y s 1 lllll I I 1 C LAW Play of BERNARD VEILLER \ SYNOPSIS. By BEATRICE FAIRFAX O NTC who haf never tnken heed of that very homely saying I* 111 * “The greatest values are done up In the smallest parcels’ wr,tp " the following letter: “T am 37 years <-f nge, and 1n spite of my agv 1 am very short of stature ‘Many people often knock me. and es pecially young men In whose company 3 am, and others whom I do not know, and hardly' think J would like to know for the reason that they call me •flhorty,’ 'Shrimp,’ ‘Little One,' and other names that irritat** me. This would not bo so bad, but ns 1 am very well aware of the fact that I am short it makes it twice as hard to bear whan they say such things. "f try to ignore all the remarks they ro-ake. but it is umImi and 1 feel very heartsick over them. When I go to a dance or to a ball. 1 come home usual ly very depressed, as I know' how to dance quite well, and I seldom get a good 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 I have a desire to be popular and Jolly wherever 1 am. and often theie remarks mar all my pleasure. “OCTAVUS.” Not Important. My dear Octavos, popularity is not a matter of Inches. If it were, many who are now' the happiest, merriest, most useful, most needed and best lovgd of all humankind would find themselves isolated and despised. And oihkr great, hulking, awkward, lazy creatures, slow in wit, loving and laughter, would suddenly discover popularity—a popularity that in most <*a«es must carry its measuring string as an explanation. In the first place, you are not through growing. While the majority 7»o longer whoot upward after 20 is nassed. there are instances of phys ical growth being still incomplete at SO. You have at least three years of grace, and undoubtedly more. I can understand what a hardship your short stature appears to you, but 1 ask you to forget it lest brooding over it result irt a greater misfortune. 3t is distressing to mourn for a few inches in physical growth to such ex tremes that the mental and spiritual growth are retarded, and that is what 1 fear for you. You are looking in instead of looking out, and that un failingly results in dwarfed mentality sod a spiritual blindness. Pleas- try to look at it in this way: The really groat people of this world have, with few exceptions, been those of small stature. The useful ones, the helpful ones, those quick to aenso danger and alert in averting it, have always been those who wore short. 31he youreelf. Hut, 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 est to serve, are the smallest. In •Very form of life, from the lowest to the highest, the greatest dynamic power has 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 tyes directed toward the ant as a re buke and an example. If you are •‘helping mother” at home 1 will wager >ou are a greater help than your jarger 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 your movements. Is More Tidy. A little woman Is always more tidy than one who is larger. Why this is I * an not explain, but a button off. a string hanging from a petticoat, a leer in a waist are marks of a large woman rather than of her birdllke sister. You want tc popular, which means you want to be loved. If you are fearful of becoming a spinster be cause of your size, dismiss your fears. The shorter the woman the greater the likelihood that she will marry and the greater probability she will rule her home. And the woman-ruled homes are the most prosperous and happiest. I do not like the names that are given to you, but 1 am sure they ex press the had taste of those who ap ply them rather than disrespect for you. We do not tease those we dis like. We keep away from them, ignore them, and if we attack them it is in a manner that can not be likened to leasing. Your friends call you names because they like you. It it? not the kindest way of showing regard, but youth is as cruel In showing affection as in showing hatred Since you can not by fretting add to your physical growth, refuse to fret remembering that if you oonitnue to worry you will dwarf your spiritual and mental development. < Mary Turner, after the death of / j her father and mother, U forced $ ] to make her own way in life She j > secures a position at the Kmpo- s rium, a department store owned j by Edward Gilder, and, after five .,f bars • 0HC4 takieUi silks arc stolen from the store, J traced to Mary's department, and i some of the goods found In her j locker. Although innocent, the t girl is arrested and sentenced to ) {hree years In prison. ) After her conviction she tells | George Damarest, chief of Gilder's ■ legal staff, that she can show the ) merchant how to stop thievery In J his store if garnted a ten-minute in- ) tervlew. The interview’ is granted, and, handcuffed to a plain-clothes man. she enters Glider’s private ..fllce. He enters immediately af- f terward. Without mincing of words. Mary / tells him that he can stop stealing ' by paying his employees a living ? wage. Now go on with the story j Copyright, J913, by the H. K. Fly Com- , pany. The play "Within the Law” 1h copyrighted hv Mr. Veiller find this noveltaatlon of it is published by his permission. The American Hay Com pany is the sole proprietor of the ex clusive rights of the representation and performance of 'Within the ]<aw" in all languages TODAY’S INSTALLMENT. "1 wasn’t forced to steal,” came the answer, spoken in the monotone thal had mark“d 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, thal I’m making for the mher girls There are hundreds of them who steal because they don’t got enough to eat. I said 1 would tell you how to stop the stealing. Weil, I have done it. Give the girls a fair Chance to be honest. You asked mo for the names, Mr. Glider. There’s only one name on which to put the blame for thfc whole business—and that name is Edward Gilder! . . . Now, won’t you do something about It?” At that naked question the owner of 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 apeak to me like this?’’ he thundered. There was no disconcert exhibited by the one thus challenged. On the con trary, she repeated her question with a simple dignity that still further out raged the man. “Won’t you please do something about it?” “How dare you?” he shouted again Now, there was stark wonder In his eyes gs he put the question. “WTiy, I dared," Mary Turner ex plained, “because you have done all the 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 1 dare. I have a right to dure! I have been straight all my life. I have wanted decent food and warm clothes, and—a littlo happiness, all the time I 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 I didn’t do. That’s why I 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 this convict of hie own keeping Vague ly he had marveled at the success of the frail girl In declaiming of her In juries before the magnate. He had 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. His 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. With the idea In mind, he stared inquiringly at Gilder until he caught that flustered gentleman's eye. A nod from the mag nate suffioed him. Gilder, in truth, could not trust hlmBelf Just then to on audible command. He was seriously disturbed by the gently spoken truths that had Issued from the girl s lips. He herself. Mary 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 question 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 ine now," she said, bitterly. Then her voice rose above the monotone that had contented her hither to. Into the music of her tones beat 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. Gilder. There won’t be a day or an hour that l won’t remember that at the last it was your word sent me to prison. And you are going to pay me for that. You are going to pay me for the five years I 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 chan of the manacles. The girl shook the links of her hand cuffs In a gesture stronger than words, rn 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 hod 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, but it was loud in the listener's heart. “Yet*, you are going to pay—for this!" CHAPTER VI Inferno. They were grim years, those three during which Mary Turner served her sentence in Bumsing There was no time off for good behavoir. The girl learned soon that the favor of those set in authority over her could only be won at a cost against which her every 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 toil, the coarse, distasteful food, the hard, narrow couch, tKe constant, gnawing irksome ness of imprisonment, away from light and air, away from ail that makes life worth while* Yet, these afflictions were not *the worst injuries to mar the girl convict’s life. That which bore upon her most weightily and incessantly from which there was never any respite, the vlclous- ness of this spot wherein she had been cast through no *ult 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 myste rious, invisible, yet horribly potent, pow er of sin was like a miasma throughout the prfkon. 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 less 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 Jhe day when she began the serving of the sentence. The change wrought in her was chiefly of an external 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, a 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 be 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 most 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 1n 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 inpocence. 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 faoe. 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 DOROTHY D1X WRITES ON A Pretty Girl's Troubles spite of all the gross irregularities of her life, she remained chaste. She de served no credit for such restraint, i since It was a matter purely of tempera- | ment, not of resolve. The girl saw in Mary Turner the pos- ' sibilitles of a ladylike personality that j 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 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 w’ould 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 w'hich 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 cheap 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. are often told that Love is the biggest thing in the world. Doubtless it is, but Tact cpmes in a good second. I am sure more people know how to manifest love than to exercise tact. If one does not believe this, let him listen £or a little while to the remarks that are made constantly in society, by one’s friends, and in the family. Only last week I heard a woman say to another whose voice is her for tune am\ who, upon all occasions, is asked to sing: “There is a comfort for those of us who possess no .parlor tricks. It is that one can always be sure w hen 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 suburban town. He spoke of being fond of the village In which lie dwelt “But do you know,” said the volu ble woman, "‘that J 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 so lit tle culture in that beautiful spot?” This man, too, smiled. He could afford to, for he had made his mark in the world as a writer of things that would live. "My dear madam.” he said, “that statement was probably true, although 1 have never looked into the matter- perhaps,because I, myself, am not a college man.” Of course, the woman was morti fied. “How could l suspect,” she said afterward, “that a man as clever as that had never been to college?” How, indeed—except by using her 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 hts 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. “Doctor.” said a woman over the telephone to her family physician one stormy day, “this is the kind of weather in which no creature except a dog ought to go out. So I am keep ing my husband, who it not well, at home, and lam asking you to come and see him.” Let us hope that the physician had a sense of humor that made him smile at the intimation conveeyd in this speech. Tact consists as much In saying tba pleasant thing as in avoiding the un pleasant one. One of-the most taci fill of men found himself one evening in an embarrassing position. He was calling at a home in w'hich the oniv 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 t,» recite Kipling’s “Ballad of the Hast and West," which he proceeded to do with a grotesque effort at the dra matic and with gestures that remind ed one of a windmill in a high gate. 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 w'hen the painful performance was completed. At last the final line was “orated” and the collegian looked to the mam for oom ment, as did also the proud father, mother and sisters. “It must be a pleasure to you. - ea-id the tactful man to the lad, “to have such a good memory and, by it, 1o give so much happiness to your dear people w'hen you come home.” The situation was saved, for the guest had been able in that moment to put himself in the place of his hosts. Which Is but another pro»f that, to be tactful, one must have imagination—and a strong one. Do Y ou Know- Thrill8 of a novel kind are prom ised for tourists to Sicily if an Ameri can hotel proprietor can carry out his plans. He has bought the site on be summit of an inactive but not ex- TiBCt volcano, and will build a hotel there A special feature of the hotel will be an underground chamber on the bed of the crater, with an asbes tos door, where those who are sated with excitement can sleep in the ex pectation that they may be called at any minute by an eruption. ‘ Barent Wonters lends donkeys on hire like his father, kills pigs, smokes hams, and occupies himself with all kinds of swinish detail work; Iso 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 millionaires. This is Jekyl Island, which belongs to a club composed of the millionaires of New York, Boston and Philadel phia. KODAKS • B**t r InitMna mn4 In* That Can Be Th# Y* C*a Be" Pr## Ml Films zntl cottj- stock lit*. Quick nyttj service for out-of-tow® rosteiiV r*. S»"d for Catalog and Prlca Llrt. A.K. HAWKES CO. *88# —jj. 1 ,!. By DOROTHY DIX \ YOUNG woman writes me a let- ter in which she says: ^ ^ “Will you please tell me why it is that a pretty girl Is insulted at every turn? I 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 certainly would be awful, Mabel, if it were true, but methinks you Hat ter yourself. The reptile of the mash er species is far too common in this I'ity, but the entire masculine portion of the community does not belong to that loathsome family. The fllrta- tious employer is also unhappily still found in our midst, but he is a rather rare bird. Most men have all they can do to hold their own with their competitors, and have to hustle so hard 1® business hours that they have no time for flirtation, and are more interested in whether their stenogra pher can spell than they are in the size and color of her eyes. /Likewise the statement that a young woman can’t walk the streets without being followed is not convinc ing. as they say in the law, because pretty girls are far too common in this city of beautiful woman. .Any maiden whose pulchritude would draw a train of Johnnies after her could af ford to be whisked about in a taxi, because she would have all the man agers of musical comedies fighting to see which one could pay her the most money as a drawing card for his show'. Of course. I am not denying that there are leering, ogling men on the street that do speak to pretty girls and who are as offensive and insult ing as possible. In every sych case it is a woman’s duty to herself and every other woman to turn the offender ov£r to the nearest policeman, and appear against him in court so that lie may get the proper punishment. This course of 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 to get into the employ of a man who expects her to throw in her soul along with her work, to hold her Job. For tunately there are not many monsters of this caliber, and when a woman finds herself in the clutches of such a one her cniv safety is to flee, 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 a cur dog with a yellow' streak in him. who quails before the contemp tuous glance of a steady eye, and who slinks away at the slightest intima tion that he is •going to be punished for his offense. As for the flrtatious mployer. 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 is willing to be a victim. Nor does she have to be continually crying, “Unhand me. sir!” as the persecuted heroine in the melo drama does when the villain pursues her There are plenty of ways by which, without speaking, every worn-I an gives every man to understand just j exactly the sort of a woman she i* and how far it is safe to go, I There are exceptions to every rule. Occasionaly innocence is betrayed, and virtue is pers’eeuted, 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 deska 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 would 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 hither and thither in search of ad miration, and who giggles and laughs loudly In public places to complain if some man mistakes her for the sort of woman she looks like Instead of the kind of woman she Is? The girl who dresses quietly, and who conducts herself with dignity, who keeps her eyes steadily before her and goes sedately about her own affairs, can go unmolested from one end of the coun try to another. There are a few Sir Galahads in the world thgt trvvjo protect .very, wom an they meet. There are also a feu j 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 foollrh, 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. Etracting- Currency, Too. Patient—But, doctor, you are not ask ing $5 for merely taking a cinder oui of my eye? Specialist—Er-no. My charge is for removing a foreign substance from the i cornea. SHE PAYS THE PENALTY There is hardly an American woman who fails to pay the penal ty of her sex at some time or other. Pain lays its merciless hand upon her—it may be that dreadful back ache. those bearing down pains, sideache. nervousness, irregulari ties or the tortures of a displace ment—it is the penalty of sex. To all such women in this condition Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound comes as a boon and a blessing. A siqiple remedy made from roots and' herbs which has brought glorious health to more suffering women than any other remedy. Brighten your teeth, your family’s teeth, with out burdening their digestions! Refresh your mouth with the beneficial tidbit. \ BUY IT BY THE BOX It costs less and stays fresh until used. Look for the spear B. IVEm?, AdY.. Ciuqfifv Avoid imitations « B * Bother mother for pennies? Not much! Yet this little girl has beautiful teeth—fine appetite—strong digestion! She’s always enjoying this little-cost, long-lasting pastime: 4,