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1 4 ^piLjfie ii u * o I I he Passing of Miss Fearful i Woman Is Ceasing to Weep—They Realize That No Man Wants to Be Salted Down in Brine as If He Were a | Dried Herring. A Powerful Story of Ad venture, Intrigue and Love Within the Law By MARVIN DANA, from the Play of BERNARD VF.1LLER By DOROTHY DIX O NE of the most interesting and «lg- nlflrant phases of the evolution of woman 1s that she'la ceasing to -wap. i don't know how science ex- •Jalns it, hut It la a self-evident fact that every observing person must have noted that as women developed back bone their tear ducts have dried up. Time was. and not so long ago. when tho very namo of the feminine sex was synonymous with crying It wan wo man's hereditary destiny to weep, Just , it was man’s to work, and she did what was expected of her by sitting down and howling whenever she came up against any of the hard propositions of life. The modern woman has change*! all of tha’. You hardly ever see a woman weep now. There aft God help us — just as many things to wring a woman's heart to-day, and Just as many causes for tears as there ever wore, but if she weeps, she weeps In private. It is al most as unusual and startling now to see a woman give way publicly to emo tion as it is to see a man do so, and I can think of no other one thing that so emphatically marks the progress of It measures all the distance between hysteria and reason. It marks the im measurable difference between the spoilt child crying impotently for forbidden sweets, and the strong adult who takes what life gives with unfaltering bravery and cheerfulness. It seems likely that women always overvalued the effectiveness of tears, anyway. Tears were supposed to always be an unanswerable argument so far os men were concerned. Unfortunately few’ women can weep effectively. In poetry a penrly drop that makes a blue eye look like a violet drowned in dew, gathers slowly and rolls gently down the alabas ter cheek, and the man who goes down before it. In everyday life the woman who weeps gets red-eyed. her nose swells and she looks purple and appo- plectic, and the man gets up, and slams the door behind, and goes downtown un it the water spout is over. In these pro- >aic and oommonsense days weeping lias played out as a fascination, and tears ore a failure No man wants to be salt ed down in brine as if he were a dried herring. They Wept Too Much. The trouble with women's tears in the past has been that they wept too much, and in the wrong way. A tear as a tear Is as effective as any other drop of salt water, yet people make the mis take of reverencing it as if weeping over thing was going to perform some kind of a miracle. You might weep over a starving fami ly until you shed an ocean of tears, yet it wouldn’t keep them from perishing of hunger. It is only when you begin to sob with your pocketbook that you do any good. It isn't the people who come t«* weep with us when we are unfortu- i ;ie and poor and downcast who help i:s It is those who have learned to empathize with their bank book and personal Interest ami assistance. Nothing else on earth is as plentiful and cheap and useless as tears, but un til they are backed up with good deeds and money nobody has a right to at tempt to sustain a reputation for chari ty on them Plenty of people do I have seen women sit up in a fashionable church and sniffle Into a point lace handkerchief all through a charity ser inon and then drop a plugged nickel into the contribution plate. Then there's poverty. If all the tears women have shed over being poor had been brought to account It would make a water power ’that would turn the wheels of the machinery of the world Tears toll hark no vanished dollars Nobody ever heard of a woman lament ing herself Into A fortune, yet they go making themselves perfect Nlobes over their spilt milk. I had a friend once who lost her money and who thereafter did nothing but weep. "What shall I do?" she demanded ••I shall starve." "If you would put in as much time and energy’ mopping a floor as you do in mopping your eyes, you could make a. fortune as a charwo man.*’ I answered, brutally. She never forgave me. People never do when you tell them the truth, but It Is a fact nev ertheless, that the only tears that can conjure hack prosperity are the tears we weep wdth our hands at some good, hon est labor. Sometimes I amuse myself by specu lating on what an improvement it would be if mothers wept less over their way ward children and spanked more Shameful Tears. Sentimentalists have embalmed a mother's tears In song and story, and made them sacred, but I tell you the tears a mother sheds over an tllraiscd son or daughter are shameful. There should he no cause for them, and there would be no cause for them, once in a million times, if she had done her duty. Weep with strict authority, mothers, sob with a wise up-bringing while your chil dren are little, and when they are grown you will not have to shed salt and bit ter tears over sons and daughters who have brought disgrace upon you. It has also appeared to me that women have wasted quite an unnecessary amount of tears on their husbands. For a thousand generations wives have clung to the theory that a man could be wept into all the virtues of beatitude. When a woman had a drunken husband she opened the door for him in the early hours of the morning, and bedewed him with her tears. When she had a brutal one, she wept when he mistreated her. but she forgave him and let him go on doing it. Men don’t weep any over wo men. They make their wives behave themselves, or else they haul them up before the divorce court, and that’s why the percentage of good conduct is so largely in favor of the fair sex. and wo men might well copy their example. Any way you look at it, it is a hope ful sign women have abandoned doing he baby act. It was always weak and useless We owe it to th^ world to give •t smiles and sunshine, not showers, and we beat do our part in it when we meet the misfortunes of life with that brave Htlltude that nothing ran daunt. ‘'But wait a minute,” English Eddie expostulated, ‘‘you see this chap, Gilder, is- 1 he Girl Alone in New York She Lc:es Her Position, But Obtains Another in an Unusual Way. Tells SLiter All About I*. SYNOPSIS. :: Electing a New Pope : ONE OF THE WORLD’S MOST MOMENTOUS CEREMONIES I T HE greatest secrecy, as well as the utmost solemnity, is observed when the Cardinals of the Church of Home are called upon to elect one of their number as Pope. Immediately after the Pope is Irnried there is a gathering together of the Car dinals, or conclave, as it is called. Inci dentally it might be mentioned that the word ’’Conclave’" is derived from the l^atin cum clave, and literally means an apartment which can be close*! with one key. once gathered together, the Cardinals, like the jury in a murder case, are not - rni !ted to leave the Vatican until they {RADIANT HAIR \ Dry, Brittle, Scraggy Hair Made Soft—Fluffy—Radi ant—Abundant by Paris ian Sage. Who does not love a beautiful < head of hair? You may think it is j a gift, that some women are bom ( that way. The fapt is, beautiful i hair is largely a matter of cultiva- < tion. just as you would water the \ plants in your garden and fertilize } the soil. s Parisian Sage is a scientific < preparation which the hair and ^ scalp readily absorbs. It removes v dandruff at once. It puts a stop < ; to itching scalp and makes your j < whole head feel better- as if your 1 hair had had a square meal. } fine application will astonish you < it will double the beauty of your ! hair. If used daily for a week you 1 \ will be simply delighted with the ! I result you will want to tell all ) your friends that you have discov- , j ered Parisian Sage. You should j see the number of enthusiastic let- S ter# we receive from delighted j users < All doubts settled at one stroke 5 —your money back if you want it. I Parisian Sage is a tea-colored 5 liquid—not sticky or greasy—deli- < cutely perfumed, that comes in a ; fifty-cent bottle The "Girl with s the Auburn Hair" on the package. } Get a bottle to-day—always keep J it where you can use it daily. ; For sale by Jacobs’ ten stores ' *nd at drug and toilet counters „ everywhere. have selected from among themselves a successor to the Pupal chair. The cere mony of election observed to-day is the same as that Inaugurated by Gregory X, six hundred years ago. Communication Impossible. The Cardinals assemble in what is known as the Sistino Chapel. All the entrances are walled up with the ex ception of one great door known as the "iSala Regia ” The greatest precautions are observed that no persons except the Cardinals remain in the building during (he conclave, and a very careful search is made, not only by officials of the Va tican. but also by the Swiss guards, who maintain a vigil over the only door lead ing to the building Even the ft**I Is carefully examined to make sure that ri" communication enters the Vatican. The actual election ceremony is quite | simple. Each Cardinal writes in a dis ced hand on a ballot-paper the name of his particular selection for the high office, which he then deposits in a chal ice or urn placet! upon a special altar. Before doing so, however, he turns to his colleagues ami solemnly swears he lms voted according to his firm belief, without fear or favor, ami in the true interests of the Church of Home only. First and Second Ballots. There are three official scrutators, who, when all the Cardinals have voted, and after a short prayer, take all the ballot-papers from the chalice and read aloud to the conclave the names record ed- The number of votes required to Immediately the two-thirds majority , lms been recorded for any candidate a bell Is rung by the junior Cardinal I>ea con. In response the secretary of the Sacred College enters with the master 1 of ceremonies, after which the Cardinal Dean approaches the Pope that is to be and inquires whether he accepts the papacy Receiving an answer In the af firmative, he next inquires what name the new pontiff intends to be known bv It should be mentioned that the name | usually selected is that of the Pope by whom The Pope-elect was created a Cardinal, and as soon as this is an- 1 nounoed the senior Cardinal Deacon goes outside and thus addresses the waiting crowd: "I unnounce to you a great Joy. We have as Pope the Most Eminent and Most Reverend . Cardinal of the Holy Homan Church, who has taken the name of Meanwhile the new dignitary has been conducted to the rear of the high altar, where he is speedily arrayed in the vest ments of the pontificate He then takes his place In the chair of state in front >f the high altar, and is ready to receive the greetings of the Sacred College Each of the Cardinals kisses him on the foot, the hand and the mouth, and that pre cious symbol, the ring of the Fisherman. * placed on his finger by the Cardinal Camerllngo. vJJPm ^ New York Dental Offices 28i/ a and 32V 2 PEACHTREE STREET Over the Bonita Theater and Zakas' Bakery. Gold Crowns . . . $3.00 Bridge Work . . . $4.00 All Other Work at Reasonable Pnces. 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 Empo rium. a department store owned by Edward Gilder, and, after five years of bare existence, valuable silks are stolen from the store, traced to Mary’s department, and some of the goods found in her locker. Although innocent, the girl is arrested and sentenced to three years In prison. After her conviction she tells George Dn.BM.rest, chief of Gilder's legal staff, ^fit she can show the merchant how to stop thievery in his store if garnted a ten-minute in terview’. The interview’ is granted, and, handcuffed to a plain-clothes \ man, she enters Gilder’s private office. He enters immediately af 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 Copyright. 1913, by the H. K. Fly Com pany. The play "Within the Law" Is copyrighted by Mr. Veiller and this novelization of it is published by his permission. The American Play Com pany is ‘he sole proprietor of the ex clusive rights of the representation and performance of "Within the Daw" in all languages. TODAY’S INSTALLMENT. Nevertheless, indomitable in her pur pose. she maintained the struggle. A third time she obtained work, and there, after a little, she told her employer, a candy manufacturer In n small way. the truth as to her having been in prison. The man had a kindly heart, and, in addition, he ran little risk in the matter, so he allowed her to remain. When, presently, the police called his attention to the girl’s criminal record, he paid no heed to their advice against retaining her services. But such action on his part offended the greatness of the law's dignity. The police brought pressure to bear on the man. They oven called in the assistance of Edward Gilder himself, who obligingly wrote a very severe let ter to the girl’s employer In the end, such tactics alarmed the man. For the sake of hls own interests, though un willingly enough, he dismissed Mary from hls service. With All Her Strength. ^ It was then that despair did eorrie upon the girl. She had tried with all the strength of her to live straight. Yet, despite her Innocence, the world would not let her live according to her own conscience. It demanded that she he the criminal it had branded her—if she were to live at all. So, it was despair! For she would not turn to evil, and without such turning she could not live. She still walked the streets falteringly, seeking some place; but her heart was gone from the quest. Now, she was sunken in an apathy that saved her from the worst pangs of misery. She had suffered so much, so poignantly, that at last her emotions had grown sluggish. She did not mind much even when her tiny hoard of money was quite gone, and she roamed the city starving. • • • Came an hour when she thought of the river, and was glad! Mary remembered, with a wan smile, how. long ago, she had thought with j amazed horror of suicide unable to { imagine any trouble sufficient to drive one to death as the only relief. Now. however, the thing was simple to her. Since there was nothing else, she must turn to that to death. Indeed, it was •o very simple, so final, and so easy, after the agonies she had endured, that she marveled over her own folly In not having sought such escape before * * * Even with the first wild fancy, she had unconsciously bent her steps westward toward the North Kiver. Now, she quickened her pace, anxious for the plunge that should set the term to sor row. In her numbed brain was no flicker of thought as to whatever might come to her afterward. Her sole guide was that compelling passion of desire to be done with this unbearable present. Nothing else mattered not in the least! In That Final Second. So, she came through the long stretch of Ill-lighted streets, crossed some rail road tracks to a pier, over which she hurried to the far end, where it pro- jected out to the fiercer currents of the Hudson. There, without giving herself a moment's pause for reflection of hesi tation, she leaped out as far as her strength permitted into the coil of wa ters. But, in that final second, natural terror in the face of death overcame the lethargy of despair—a shriek burst from her lips. But for that scream of fear, the story of Mary Turner had ended there and then. Only one person was anywhere near to catch the sound. And that sln- :1ft person heard. On the south side of the pier a man had Just tied up a motorboat. He stood up in alarm at the cry, arid was just in time to gain :i glimpse of a white face under the dim moonlight as it swept down wdth the tide, two rods beyond him. On tire Instant, he threw off hls coat and sprang far out after the drifting body. He came to it in a few furious strokes, and caught it. Then began the savage struggle to save her and himself. The currents tore at him wrath fully, but he fought against them with (all the fierceness of hls nature. He had strength a-plenty, but he needed all of it, and more, to win out of the river’s •hungry clutch. What saved the two of them was the violent temper of the •nan Always, it had been the demon o set him aflame. To-night, there in the faint light, within the grip of the waters, he was moved to insensate fury against the element that menaced. Hls rage mounted, and gave him new oower in the battle. Maniacal strength grew out of supreme wrath. Under the urge of it, he conquered—at last brought himself and hls charge to the shore. When, finally, the rescuer was able to do something more than gasp chok- rigly, he gave anxious attention to the woman whom he had brought out from 'u* river. Yet, at the outset, he could *iot be sure that she still lived. She iad shown no sign of life at any time since he had first seized her. That fact had been of incalculable advantage to him In his efforts to reach the shore vith her. Now, however, it alarmed him mightily, though it hardly seemed pos sible that she could have drowned. So ’ar as he could determine, she had not even sunk once beneath the surface. Nevertheless, she displayed no evidence • »f vitality, though ho chafed her hands for a long time. The shore here was very lonely; it would take precious time summon aid. It seemed, nothwith- standing, that this must he the only course Then Just as the man was about to leave her, the girl sighed, very b-intly, with an infinite weariness, and opened her eyes. The man echoed the h, but his was of Joy, since now he knew that his strife in the girl’s be half had not been In vain. Afterward, the rescuer experienced no great difficulty in carrying out his work to a satisfactory conclusion. Mary re vived to clear consciousness, which was at first inclined toward hysteria, but this phase yielded soon under the sym pathetic ministrations of the man. Hls rather low voice was soothing to her tired soul, and his whole air was at once masterful and gently tender. Moreover, there was an inexpressible balm to her spirit in the very fact that some one was thus ministering to her. It was the first time for many dread ful years that any one had taken thought for hei^ welfare. The effect of II was like a draught of rarest wine to warm her heart. So, she rested obediently as he busied himself with her complete restoration, and, when finally she was able to stand, and to walk with the support of his arm, she went forward slowly at hls side with out so much even as a^question of vhither. And, curiously, the man himself shared the gladness that touched the mood of the girl, for he experienced a sudden pride in his accomplishment of the night. Somewhere in him were the seede of self-sacrifice, the seeds of a generous devotion to others. But those seeds had been left undeveloped in a life that had been lived since early boyhood outside the pale of respectability. To-night Joe Garson had performed, perhaps, his first iction with no thought of self at the back of it. He had risked his life to save that of a stranger. The fact astonished him, while it pleased him hugely. The sensation was at once novel \nd thrilling. Glow of Satisfaction. Since It was so agreeable, he meant to prolong the glow of self-satisfaction by continuing to care for this waif of the river. He must make hls rescue complete. It did not occur to him to luestlon his fitness for the work. His introspection did not reach to a point of suepeoting that he, an habitual crim inal, was necessarily of a sort to be most objectionable as the protector of & young girl. Indeed, had any one suggested the thought to him, he would have met It with a sneer, to the effect that a wretch thus tired of life could hardly object to any one who constituted him self her savior. In this manner, Joe Garson, the noto rious forger, led the dripping girl east ward through the squalid streets, until at last they came to an adequately lighted avenue, and there a taxicab was found. It carried them farther north, and to the east still, until at last it ;ame to a halt before an apartment nous© that was rather Imposing, set in a street of humbler dwellings. Here, Gar- .*on paid the fare, and then helped the *irl to alight, and on into the hallway. Mary went with him quite unafraid, though now with a growing curiosity. Strange as it all was, she felt that she ,‘ould trust this man who had plucked her from death, who had worked over her with so much of tender kindliness. So, she waited patiently; only watched with intentness as he pressed the button of the flat number. She observed with interest the thick, wavy gray of his hair, which contradicted pleasantly the youthfulness of hls clean-shaven, reso lute face, and the spare, yet well- muscled form. The clicking of the door-latch sounded soon, and the two entered and went slowly up three flights oi stairs. On the landing beyond the third flight, the loor of a real flat stood open, and in he doorway appeared the figure of a woman. "Well, Joe, who's the skirt ?” this per son demanded, as the man and his charge halted before her. Then, abrupt ly. the round, baby-like face of the woman puckered in amazement. Iler voice rose shrill. "My Gawd, if it ain’t Mary Turner!" At that, the newcomer’s eyes opened swiftly to their widest, and she stared astounded in her turn. "Aggie!" she cried. CHAPTER VII. I N the time that followed, Mary lived in the flat with Aggie Lynch occupied along with her brother. Jim, a pickpocket much esteemed among his fellow craftsmen. The pe riod wrought transformations of a radical and bewildering sort in both the appearance and the character of tht girl. Joe Garson, the forger, had long been acquainted with Aggie and her brother, though he considered them far beneath him in the social scale, since their criminal work was not of that high kind on which he prided himself. But, as he cast about for some woman to whom he might take the hapless girl he had rescued, hls thoughts fell on Aggie, and forth with his determination was made since he knew that she was respectable, viewed according to his own peculiar lights. He was relieved rather than otherwise to learn that there was al ready an acquaintiftiee between the two women, and the fact that hls charge had served time in prison did not influence him one jot against her. On the contrary, it increased in some measure his respect for her as one of his own kind. By the time he had learned as well of her Innocence he had grown so Interested that even her folly, as he was inclined to deem It. did not cause any wavering in his regard. Now. at last, Mary Turner let her self adrift. It scemec^ to her that she had abandoned herself to fate in that hour when she threw herself Into the river. Afterward, without any volition on her paVt, she had been restored to life, and set within an en vironment new and strange to her, in which soon, to her surprise, she dis covered a vivid pleasure. So, she fought no more, but left destiny to work Its will unhampered by her fu tile strivings. For the first time in her life, thanks to the hospitality of Aggie Lynch, secretly reinforced from the funds of Joe Garson, Mary fo^ind herself living in luxurious idleness, while her every wish could be grati fied by he merest mention of it. She was fed on the daintiest of fare, for Aggie was a sybarite in all sensuous pleasures that were apart from sex. She was clothed with the most deli cate richness for the first time as to those more mysterious garments which women love, and she «oon had a variety of frocks as-charming as her graceful form demanded. In ad dition, there were as many of books and magazines as she could wish. Her inind, long starved like her body, seiz ed avidly on the nourishment thus afforded. In this interest, Aggie had no share—was perhaps a little envi ous over Mary's absorption in print ed page.-. But for her consolation were the matters of food and dress, and of countless Junketings. In such directions, Aggie was the leader, an eager, joyous one always. She took a vast pride in her guest, with the un mistakable air of elegance, and she dared to dream of groat triumphs tn come, though as yet she carefully avoided any suggestion to Mary of wrongdoing. To Be Continued To-morrow. By LILLIAN LAUFFERTY. D ARLING KITTY: Since 1 have been over here in the role of needle In the big New York haystack, I have 1-—^ blue days and rose-colored days and "JM days; but to-day is all a white glare, and 1 think the lights are pretty strong for my eyes, sis. Not the "Bright Lights." but the glow and gleam of ex citement and having adventures follow themselves up as l didn’t think they ever could In really truly life. Your kind attention, sisterkin. and I will toll my little tale from its beginning. Three days ago I lost my job -but don't picture me starving on the streets of New York, for I found a new one this morning! Hard times— and cutting down the staff." That Is why I went. After'dealing that blow to my pride and my literary aspirations, fate turn ed around and began to treat me like the perfect gentleman he can some times be! A New Job. I answered thirty advertisements yesterday—hut I did not seem to an swer any one’s needs. When I got down to No. 4 on my list to-day I had arrived at the offices of Clark, Clarke & Clark, attorneys-at-law. Just when I began to open the door from the outside some one was turning the han dle from the inner realms. open flies the door collision . . Madge’s hat takes a little list to port, and Madge yearns for a port of her own. A voice speaks: "I BEG your par don. Have I upset you completely? Well, I declare—I do seem to run into you!* And on your way to my office his time. Now what can I do for you?” I should have fled the spot I sup pose. Instead I said. "Your office?” And I wanted to add—"Who are YOU?" "Why yes,” I am Clarke—the one with the *E.’ Now’ what can 1 do for you?” "Give me a position; I have lost mine." Probably I should not have MiG it—but I did not want to come home defeated at the end of four weeks! I wanted work and a chance to "show" New’ York—well, I guess I have both. I am to get fwenty-flve dollars a week in return for my services as "Pri vate Secretary" and Stenographer to he firm, which consists of Clarke Sen ior, forty-five or fifty, as New York ages go—so he may be sixty or a grand father at ♦-«.*>.» Mr. James 7. Clarke, nt whom "more anon,” and Clarke Jun ior. who looks twenty-two or three, and thinks life is to be devoted to getting a cane with just the crook to fit his arm to a nicety. He' is called Mr. Tommy, and looks it! And now for the "Anon” and more of Mr. Clarke. Tie -s the man who imped into me so violently that day as I was com.. „ v i « i Grand Central, and then invited me to tea to give me a anee to recover my equilibrium thereby quite upsetting it. I will never do for the wife of a President! For Mr. Clarke has a perfectly unforgetta ble voice, and all I could do about re membering it was feel that it belonged to sorpeone I had in all probability met and forgotten—and It was not until he was my employer, duly signed and seal ed, that I realized the full force of that first impact. Asked to Tea. But he was considerate and recom mended me to the attention of hls partners in the most impersonal, hard- ly-knew-you-were-a-girl sort of a way. And yet the gTrl alone has as her "Boss" a man who thought he might venture to ask a little stranger—that stranger being me—to tea! Now. Little Miss Safe-at-Home, think it over—I need work If I am to be a self-supporting person in New York, the while I wait for my literary ability to develop so it can be seen by people who are more interested in subscription pulling than in the mere feeling of per- sonal pride In "Darling Madgie"—and I like Mr. James T. Clarke. Was I silly to go on the payroll of Clarke, Clarke and Clark? And Kitty, I warn, to know that man —so that is a perfectly good reason why I shouldn’t—since I am an employee in his office. Mr. Clarke is surely a gentleman—even if ne is a bit overly friendly. I shall have to prove that I am a lady, I suppose, by being overly unfriendly. Or, won’t I? Hurry up and give your sage opinion to Yo Four loving MADGE. Good Discipline Putting Yourself in Your Wife’s Place I - HEARD a man talking abqjit his wife the other day—he began with ' his wife—and he ended with all the women in the world. "What is the matter with them?” he said bitterly. "Are they all going crazy, or what? II am a good hus band. if I do have to say it myself to get any one to believe it; I work like a bond slave for my wife and family; I devote most of my waking hours and some of my sleeping ones to thinking of new ways to make more money and more money and more money for her and the little fellows. “My wife has a new hat whenever she wants one. and I never complain about the bill—even if it does make me teel blue to see it sometimes—a hat and a feather, $3."., Why, it's enough to take a man’s breath. And she goes away in the summer and takes the children and has a fine time for three months, and she has a good home, and—yet is she happy? "She is not. "She is miserable, perfectly miser- I able, and she makes me miserable ‘Where have I bt •Who \ gave me thu play bill?’ 'Where did I FOR THAT TIRED FEELING Take Hereford's Acid Photphatt dimmer overwork or imoninl*. hear that song I'm whistling?’ ‘Who was the woman who stared at me so in the theater the other night”' ‘Why don't 1 love her any more?’ "And he's not the only one My brother’s wife is the same—worse, if anything. My brother can’t spend an • venlng out to save his life without his wife wanting to know exactly where ho went and whom he saw, and all about 1t -and she doesn’t believe him wh-’n he tells her the truth.” Nice little preachment, wasn’t it? And the man meant It. too—every word of it You could see that by the look of irritated, puzzled misery In ids tired face What is the matter with us. any how. girls? 1 wonder if any one knows? For one thing, it's the mystery of J the thing that puzzles us. .Did you ever think of that, Mr | Man ? What if the person you loved best in the world, the person you left every one you ever cared for just to he with, went away every day to a mysterious place he called downtown .nd stayed all day, and came home >T« iking with the speech of aliens, ! ’c'king 1th the look of strangers, al ways thinking, thinking about some thing that you didn’t know a thing j about ” Wouldn’t you wonder sometimes I what it all was that made him so absent-minded? .Wouldn’t you wish he’d tell you something about it ones in a while, just enough so you could visualize his day to some extent and have some sort of vague idea what it is that he does—down there In the barred city where you must never go? It Wouldn ‘t Bore Her. You know every step your wife takes all day long—-she wants to tell you all about It—and when you don’t listen she thinks vou are tired of her. It wouldn’t bore her to hear all about what you do, but you never help her out a bit. You see. she’s in love with you; you’re fond of her, but you are not in love with her. That isn’t the wav you acted when you were in love. Don’t tell me! She may not know much, but no woman earth is there who can’t tell when a man really loves her and when ha stops loving her. too—so you might os well stop going over that Action once and for all. She’s in love and you aren’t—that’s all. Help you any to know that? Well, maybe not, but it may help your judgment of her and your sym pathy, too. Just think back a year or so and remember how you used to feel about her. That will help you to realize that she fs having rather a bad time of it herself just now. too. Morbid, unbalanced, irritating—of course it is—all of these things, but so is the life the woman who loves leads morbid, unbalanced and irritating from start to finish. You’d go crazy in six months if you had to live it, shut in all day with a baby; no one to speak to but the grocer’s boy and the postman; no big ambitions, no great hopes; just little things, little, little,, from morn ing to night. * Don’t scold your wife, don’t be cross with her. get her mind off the little, silly suspicions and little stupid curi osities by telling her a few things she’d dearly love to know. Tell them to her without her asking, and see how surprised and delighted she’ll be. She’ll take just as much interest in you and your affairs as Jones, and yet you talk and talk to Jones. Think it over. Friend Husband. Put yourself in the place of the poor little puzzled thing who’s been tied into a corset every morning of her life and had her poor little tootsies pinched, and her poor head made to ache by some fool kind of hair dressing ever since she can remember, just to get ready for you and for love, and then she finds out that love is just a part of life after all and not all of it, as she has been carefully taught to think, and she’s all at sea. Put yourself In her odd. confused, mixed up place and see if you can’t see what's the matter with her. Maybe you can. and if you !o you’ve won the battle before it is fought. Try it and let's hear from you— we d like to know. ^ T f you think any member of your I family needs a spiritual stlmu- A lant during the present sea son,” said the young girl with the camera slung over her shoulder, "buy him a camera and a tank and a scale and a few dozen different chemicals, and a book of directions and leave him to his fate. The seeds of humil ity, patience and long suffering will bear fruit a thousand fold. "Don’t laugh. It’s true! If you know anything about the capital sins you know that pride is at the head of the list. To cure it, let some one take a good sw'ift snapshot of you when you’re not looking. It can reveal and correct more beauty defects than 52 visits to the shop where they make you beautiful w'hile you Avait. When that same snapshot is three or four years old and you gaze upon the hat that was none too becoming in its best days, you begin to realize that the lily of the field had some advan tages over Solomon. "As for patience, amateur photog raphy is more instructive than Bruce’s spider and more effective than Job’s soliloquies. When you have measured out 16 ounces of hypo in a half-ounce scale—which means that you have to balance it 32 times, to the rhythmic chant of ‘Twenty grains one scruple, three scruples one dram, eight drams one ounce’—and then forget whether the last measure was the twenty-first or tw’enty-second half ounce, and you have to spill it all out and begin all over again—if you can do it with cheerful heart your spiritual condition is encouraging. Vacation Time. "When you have come home from a vacation with several rolls of films and begin developing the best and most cherished roll, and it comes out of the tank distinct and clear and you drop it into a bowl of innocent looking hot water which should have been cold—a bowl which a member of your family had placed carelessly at your side—and you see your jolly groups of bathers and.canoers run into a shape less mass of gelatin and you hold in your hand a blank film roll, then if you can turn to the offender and say with serenity: ‘It’s all right, I really don’t mind then you have merit ed a triple halo. "Do you wish to understand your neighbor? Try a group picture. In the first place, when it comes to pos ing a group, have you ever observed the serene indifference with which each member regards the.'position and advantages of every other member? The most humble and retiring indi vidual quietly and persistently slides into an advantageous position, re gardless of the same desire on the part of everyone else. "And when that same group has been finished and you talk about light and shade, tone and contrast—yon were not in it. of course—and you try to get anyone else to observe th^se points and you say. ‘Don’t you think <#he shadows are good?’ your friend will invariably reply. ‘I didn’t know I had a double chin!’ or ‘I certainly can’t wear a soft collar!’ "Then you suddenly realize that your modest, self-effacing friend has a normal ego. "For social popularity the snapshot is an open sesame. If with your ‘bread and butter’ letter you can inclose a few snapshots of the infant idol of the family, of your host’s new chicken coop, or your hostess’ new porch set, the invitation to come again will be sincere and urgent. "When it comes to generosity this gentle art of snapshotting has no equal. Suppose in a rash moment yo\* have promised each of eight friends a full set of twelve prints. After a preliminary struggle with drams and scruples you start in to print. Your family admonishes, urges and finally commands you to be sensible and go to bed. but you feel that you must persist in your altruistic endeavors. It is midnight before you set your 96 prints to wash in a bowl of run ning water in the kitchen sink. "When you return at the end of an hour you find that several of the prints, with the perversity of inani mate things, have slipped over the drain and a miriature Niagara is , splashing down upon the floor, on which the water is already three inches deep. You try a mop, which Is no more effective than a handkerchief in the Gulf of Mexico. "The heat has been off two hours and it’s 10 degrees below zero, and the kitchen has a west exposure, but you open the door and sweep strenu ously and exhaustively. And you hear the splash of the water on the porch, on the landing below, then on the i walk in the yard, and you think of the profile of drainage of the great lakes. And you tread lightly and softly, partly because you are re luctant to dislodge the water-soaked ceiling in the flat below and partly because you are afraid of waking your family and bringing down on your unoffending head a chorus of ‘I told you so’s.’ "Aiter three hours of hard labor you close the door just before the milkman tears up the back stairs. And then, when you come tp the breakfast table the next morning, heavy lidded and sore of spirit, but discreetly silent, another of your household comes in and says in a convincing and appealing tone: Tm dead tired! I didn’t sleep a wink last night! ’ "Then, if you can restrain your words of contradiction and offer sympathy in soft and gentle tones, with an invisible smile for the audi ble slumbers to the rhythm of which you swished a broom half the night— well, amateur photography has done more for you than Gideon Bibles and long weeks of fasting and sacrifice!" WOMAN SICK FOURTEEN YEARS Restored to Health by f Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound. Elkhart, Ind.:—“I snfTered for fourteen years from organic inflam mation, female weakness, pain and irregularities. The pains in my sides were increased by walking or stand ing on my feet and I had such awful bearing down feel ings, was depressed in spirits and be came thiu and pale with dull, heavy — yes. 1 had six doctors from whom I received onlr temporary relief. I decided to give Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Com pound a fair trial and also the Sana tlve Wash. I have now used the remedies for four months and can not express my thanks for what they have done for me. “If these lines will be of any bene fit you have my permission u> pub lish them.”—Mrs. Sadie Williams. 455 James Street, Elkhart, Indiana. Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound, made from native roots and herbs, contains no narcotic or harmful drugs, and to-day holds the record of being the most successful remedy for female ills we know of, and thousands of voluntary test! monials on file in the Pinkham loo- oratory at Lynn, Mass., seem to prove this fact. If you have the slightest doubt that Lydia E. Pinkham s vegecaoie Compound wili help you, write to Lydia E. Pinkham Medicine Co. (con fidential,) Lynn, Mass., for advice. Your letter will be opened, read and answered by a woman, and held in strict confidence.