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1 li " ~ T ^ -—^Wl .cL I he Passing of Miss Tearful 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- J venture, Intrigue andLoVe Within the Law By MARVIN DANA, from ihe Play of BERNARD VF.ILLER ay DOROTHY DIX. O NE *»f the most interesting ami sig niflean! phase* of the evolution of woman la that she la ceasing to weep. I <lon't know how science ex plains it. hut it Is a soli'-evident fad that every observing person must have noted that as women developed back bone their tear duct* have dried up. Time was. and not so long ago. w hen the ver> name of the feminine sex was synonymous with trying It w "' mun s hereditary destiny to weep, Just as 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 proposition* of life. The nuKlern woman lias changed all of that You hardly ever see a woman weep now . There are God help us - just as many tilings to wring a woman s heart to-day, and Just as many causes lor'tears as there ever wore, but if she w ceps, she weeps in private. It is al most as unusual and stariltng now to **o 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 ho emphatically marks ,the progress of my sex It measure* 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 likels that women always overvalued the effectiveness of tears, anyway Tears were supposed to always be an unanswerable argument so far as men were conc erned. I’nfortunately few women can weep effectively. In poetry a pearly drop that makes u 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 *w»dlH and she looks purple and appo- plectic, anti the man gets up, and slams the door behind, ami goes downtown un til the water spout is over. In those pro saic and coni monsense days weeping has played tint as a fascination, anti tears are 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 teurs in the past has been that they wept too' much, anti in the wrong way. A tear as a tear is ns 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 u 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 htingei It is only when you begin to stil» with your pocket book that you do any good. It isn’t the people who come to weep with ns when we are unfortu nate and po%* and downcast who help \p it is those who have learned to sympathise with their bunk book and personal interest and assistance. | Nothing else on earth is as plentiful I and cheap and useless at* tears, but un- j ;I they are hacked up with good deeds J ind money nobody has a right to ai tempt to sustain a reputation for chari- on them Plenty of people do. I have yeen women sit up in a fashionable church and sniffle Into a point lac** handkerchief all through a charity set* rnnn 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 i water power that would turn the wheels of the machinery of the* world | Tears toll hack no vanished dollars I Nobody ever heard of a woman lament - J ing herself Into a fortune, yef they K" J making them Helve* perfect Niches over their split 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 eye*, you could make a fortune as a charWo- 1 man " I answered, brutally. She never forgave me. People never do when -you ; teJI them the truth, but It is a fact nev ertheless. that the only team's that can ! conjure back prosperity are the tears we weep with our hands at Home good, hon est labor. Sometimes 1 amuse myself by specu- , j lating on what*Hn 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 tin- tears a mother sheds over an lllralsed son or daughter are shameful. There should be no cause for them, and there would be no cause for therrt, orn-e in a million times, if she had done her duty, i 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 hat! 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 i 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- J 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 ami ! useless. We owe it to the world to give it smiles and sunshine, not showers, and | we best do our part in it when we meet the misfortunes of life with that br^ye attitude that nothing can daunt. But wait a minute,” English Eddie expostulated, ‘‘you see this chap, Gilder, is SYNOPSIS. :: Electing a New Pope :: ONE OF THE WORLD S MOST MOMENTOUS CEREMONIES T HE greatest secrecy, well the utmosi solemnity, is observed when the Cardinals of the Church «»f Home, arc called upon to elect one of their number as Pope. Immediately after the Hope is buried there is a gat liering 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 Eat in cum clave, ami literally means an apartment which can be closed with one key. once gathered together, the Cardinals, like the jury in u murder case, are not permitted to leu\e the Vatican until they RADIANT HAIR Dry. Brittle, Scraggy Hair Made Soft—Fluffy—Radi ant Abundant by Paris ian Sage. \\ i .. decs not love a beautiful head ol hair" You may think it Is t gift, that some women are horn that way. 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For sale by Jacobs’ ten stores and at drug and toilet counters everywhere have selected from among themselves u successor to the Papal chair. The cert inony 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 Sistine Chapel. All the entrances are walled up with the ex ception of one great door known as the “Sala Regia.’’ The greatest precautions are observed that no person* except the Cardinal* remain in the building <itiring >he conclave, and a very careful search is mad*, 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 food is carefully examined to make sure that no communication enters the Vatican The actual election ceremony is quite ■■iiupie Each Cardinal writes in a dis- t-fd hand on a ballot-paper the name I of Ids particular selection for the high office, which ho then deposits in a chal- • ice or urn placed upon a special altar. Before doing so, however, he turns to his colleagues and solemnly swears In has voted according to his firm belief, without fear or favor, and in tin- true interests of the Church of Rome only First and Second Ballots. i There are three official scrutators, who. when all the Cardinals have voted, ami 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 ; has been recorded for any candidate a i bell is rung by the junior Cardinal Dea con. In response the secretary of tin* Sacred College enters with ihe master of ceremonies, after which tin* Cardinal Dean approaches the Pope that is to in and inquires whether he accepts the papacy. Receiving an answer in the at firmative, he next inquires what name the new pontiff intends to be known !>\ It should hfc mentioned that the name usually selected is that of the Pope b> whom the Pope-elect was created a • ’urdinul, and as soon as this is an 1 nounced the senior Cardinal Deacon goes outside and thus addresses the waiting crowd “I announce to you a great Joy \N e have as Pope the Most Eminent and Most Reverend Cardinal of tbe Holy Roman Church, who has taken the name of Meanwhile ihe new dignitary has been conducted to the rear <>! the high altar where he is speedily arrayed in the vest ments of the pontificate lie then takes bis place In the chair of state in front "f the high altar, and is rearix to receive the greetings <»f the Sacred College Each of the Cardinals kisses hint on the foot, the hand and the mouth, ami that pre vious symbol, the ring of the Fisherman, is placed on his finger by the Cardinal Oa merllngo Mary Turner, after the death of her father and mother, is forced to make her own way in life. Hite secures a position at the Empo rium, a department store owned by Edward Gilder, apd, after five years of bdre existence, valueble silks are stolen from the store, traced to Mary’s department, apd some of the goods found in her locker. Although innocent, the girl is arrested and sentenced to three years in prison. After Ii0r conviction she tells George Damarest, chief of Gilder’s legal staff, that she can show the merchant how to stop thievery in his store if gam ted a ten-minute in terview. The interview is granted, and. handcuffed to a plain-clothes man, she enters Gilder's private office, lie enters immediately af terward. Without mincing of words, Mary tells him that he can stop stealing by paying his employees ti living wage. Now go on with the story i Copyright. 1913. by the H. K. Fly Com pany. The play “Within the 1 ^aw” is copyrighted by Mr. Veiller and this novelization of it is published by his permission. The American Play Com pany Is the sole proprietor of Ihe ex- clur’ve rights of the representation and performance of "Within the Law’’ In all languages. TODAY’S INSTALLMENT. Nevertheless, Indomitable in her pur pose. she maintained the 'tstimggle. A third time she obtained work, and there, after a little, she told her employer, a candy manufacturer in a small way. the truth os to her having been in prison. The man had a kindly heart, and. in addition, he ran little risk in the matter, so lie ;illowe*l her to remain. When, presently, the police called his attention to the girl’s criminal record, he paid no heed to their atlvice against retaining her services. But such action on his part offended the greatness of the law’s dignity. The police brought pressure to hear on the man. They even called In the assistance of Edward Glider himself, who obligingly wrote n vefy severe let ter to the giri’s employer. In the end, such tactics alarmed the man. For the sake of his own Interests, though un willingly enough, he dismissed Mary from his service. With All Her Strength. It Wits then that despair did cotno upon the girl. She bad 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 be the criminal it had branded her if she were to five at all. £h>. it was despair! For site would not turn to etil*. and without such turning she could not Jive. She still walked the streets falteringiy, seeking sonic place . but her hcatNw was gone from the quest. Now. she was sunken in an apathy tjiiit 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 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 so very simple, so final, and so easv, 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 River. Now, khe quickened her pace, anxious for the plunge that should set the term to sor row. In her numbed brain was no flicker <*>f 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. she came hrough the long stretch of ill-lighted streets, crossed some rail road tracks to a pur. over which she hurried to the ftfr 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. Hut, 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 Maty Turner had ended there and then Only .one person was anywhere near to catch the sound. And that sin- tie person heard. On the south side of the pier a man had just tied up a motgrboat. He stood up in alarm at the cry, and was just in time to gain a glimpse of a white face under the dim moonlight as it swept down with • lie tide, two rods beyond him. On Hie instant, he threw off his coat and sprang far out after the drifting body, tie rame to it in a few furious strokes, ’.nd caught it. Then began the savage struggle to save her and himself. The currents tore at him vvrathfully, hut he fought against them with all the fierceness of his 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 denfon o set him aflame. To-night, there in the fa^nt light, within the grip of the waters. he was moved to insensate fury against the element that menaced. His rage mounted, and 'gave him new oower in the battle. Maniacal strength jrew out of supreme wrath. Under the urge of it, he conquered at last brought rnself and his charge to the shore. When, finally, the rescuer was able to do something more than gasp chok- ’ngly. he gave anxious attention to the woman whom he had brought out from river. Yet, at the outset, he could not be sure that she still lived. She •ad shown no sign of life at any time since he had first seized her. That fact ad been of incalculable advantage to n in his efforts to reach *the shore ✓ ith her. Now, however, it alarmed him ..ughtily, 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 he chafed her hand? for a long time. The shore here was very lonely:*lt would take precious time 'o sumnion aid. It seemed, nothwith- i.andMIfft that this must he the only course. Then just as the man was :bout to leaYe her. the girl sighed, very lintly, with an Infinite weariness, and opened her eyes. The man echoed the . but Jiis was of Joy. since now tie knew that i> strife in the girl's be- ilf had r t been in vain. Afterward, the rescuer experienced no great difie oily in carrying out his work o a satisfactory conclusion. Mary re vived t<> ■ 'oar consciousness, which was • '■ i 1 st Inclined toward hysteria, ’but this phase yielded soon under the sym pathetic, ministrations of the man. His rather low voice was soothing to her iired soul, and his w hole air was at once masterful and gently tender. Moreover, there was an inexp:>-.fibh- balm to her spirit in the very fact tuaf some one was thus ministering to her, It was the first time for many dread* fill years that any one had taken ■ -night for her welfare. The effect of it was like*a draught of rarest wine in warm her heart. So. she rested obediently asj he busied himself with her complete restoration, and. when finally she was able lo stand, and to walk with the support of his arrn, she went forward slowly at his side with- ( it so much even as a question of 'v hither. 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 seeds of ^elf-sacrifice, the seeds of a generous devotion to others. But those seeds had been left undeveloped in a life that had ieen lived since early boyhood outside the pale of respectability. To-night Joe Jarson had performed, perhaps, his first tel ion with no thought of self at the oack of it. He had risked his life o save that of a stranger. The facl 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 .» prolong the glow of self-satisfaction continuing to care for this waif of the* river. He must make his rescue complete. It did not occur to him to question his fitness for the work. His introspection did not reach to a point f suspecting that he, an habitual erirn- nal, was necessarily of a sort to be most objectionable as the protector of a young irl. Indeed, had any one suggested .he thought to him, he would have met a with a sneer, to the effect that a wretch thus tired of life could hardly bject to any one who constitute*! him self her savior. In this manner. Joe Garson, the noto- ious^forger. led the dripping girl east ward through the squalid streets, until it last^they came to an adequately ighted 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 >use that was rather imposing, set in a street of humbler dwellings. Here, Gar- • n paid the fare, and then helped the rirl to alight, and on into the hallway. Mary went with him quite unafraid, "Ugh now with a growing curiosity, range as it all was, she felt that she >uld trust this man who had plucked her from death, who had worked over t with so much of tender kindliness. So, she waited patiently; only watched .vith intentness as he pressed tlie button >f the flat number. She observed with nterest tlie thick, wavy gray of his . air. which contradicted pleasantly the vmithfulness of his clean-shaven, rero ute face, and the spare, yet well- .nuscled form. The clicking of the door-latch sounded soon, and the two entered and went slowly up three flights of stair*, 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 .barge halted before her Then, abrupt ly. the round, baby-like face of the woman puckered in amazement. Her 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, his 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 #n acquaintance between the two women, and the fact that his 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 hud grown so interested that even her folly, a.s he was inclined to deem it. did not cause any wavering in his regard. Now. at last, Mary Turner let her self adrift. It seemed to her that she had abandoned herself to fate in that hour when she threw herself into th*' river. Afterward, without any volition oil her part, 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 found 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 soon 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 mind, 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 pages. 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 va-t pride in her guest, with the un mistakable air of elegance, and she dared to dream of great triumphs to come, though as yet she carefully avoided any suggestion to Mary of wrongdoing. To Be Continued To-morrow. Putting Yourself in Your Wife’s Place S Mew York Dental Offices 28i/o and 32* 2 PEACHTREE STREET Over the Bonita Theater and Zakas Bakery. Goid Crowns . . . $3=00 Bridge Work . . . $4.00 All Other Work at Reasonable Prices. I HEARD a man talking about his wife the other day—he began with his w ife - and he ended w ith till the women in the world. .“What is the matter with them?’ he said bitterly. “Are they all going crazy, or what? 11 am a good hus band, if 1 do have to say it myself to g«q any one to believe it; l work like a bond slave for my wife and family: l devote most of my waking flours 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. “Mv wife has a new hat whenever | slu wants oue. and I ne\ er complain about the bill -even it it does make me toel blue to see it sometimes a hat and a feather, $35 Why, it’s I t nough to take a man’s breath. And! she goes away in the summer and] takes the children and has a tine tirnei for three montlis. anti she has a good j j home, and - yet is she lmppy ? “She *s not. She is tnis* : able. p<rt » tl> mistr- ! able and she makes me miserable,, j too Where have I been?* ’Who i gave me that play bill?’ Where did I FOR THAT TIRED FEELING Takr Horsford'* Acid Phtssfintr 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 she’s not the only one. My brother’s ’wife is the same—worse, if anything My brother can’t spend an I evening cut to save his life without his wife wanting to know exactly where he went and whom' he saw, and Ml about it--and she doesn't believe I him wh 'n lie tells her Ihe truth.” Nice little preachment, wasn't it” And the man meant it. too—every word of it. You could see that b\ the lock of irritated-, puzzled misery in his tired face What is the matter with us. an\« i wonder if any on* knows? For vine thing, it’s the mystery of the thing that puzzles us. Did you ever think of that. Mr M a n ?. VYimt if the person you loved best in the world, the person you left every one you ever cared for just to be with, went away every day to a mysterious place he called dovvntov. n and stayed all day. and came home speaking with the speech of aliens, looking ith the look of strangers, al ways thinking, thinking about some thing that you didn’t know a thin; ait . cat-mulcted omc that man Wouldn’t he’d toll you something about it ones in a while, just enough so you could visualize his May to some extent and have some soft of vague idea what *t 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 you 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 tlie way 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 13 stops loving her. too -so you might as well stop going over that fiction once and for all. She s irr 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 usM to feel about her. That will help you to realize that she is having rather a had time of it herself just now. too. Morbid, unbalanced, irritating—of course it is ;U>1 of these things, but so 1 i) lit', t'.ii' woman who loves le«ds moroai unba tiued 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 thjng 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 pa t of life after all and not all of it, is she has been carefully taught to think, and she's a!! at sea. Put yourself iu 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 lo you've won the battle before it is fought. Try it an*i let's hear from you— we'd like to know. The Girl Alone in New York She Lojes Her Position, But Obtains Another in an Unusual Way. Tells Sister All About It. 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 had blue days and rose-colored days and just gray days: but to-day is all a white glare, and I 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 I didn’t think they ever could in really truly life. Your kind attention, slsterkin. and I will tell 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—but 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 tvas 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 voioJ* speaks: “I BEG your par don. Have I upset you completely? Well, I declare—1 do seem to run into vou! And on your way to my office • his time. Now what can I do for you?” I should have fled the spot 1 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 I do for you?” "Give me a position; 1 have lost mine.” Probably I should not have iid 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 r York—well. I guess I have both. I am to get twenty-five dollars a week in return for my services as ”I*ri- vate Secretary” and Stenographer to he firm, which oonsists of Clarke Sen ior, forty-five or fifty, as New York Hges go—so he may be sixty or a grand father at that)! Mr. James T. Clarke, of whom “more anon,” and Clarke Jun ior, who looks twenty-two or three, amt 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. He is the man who jmped into me so violently that day as I was coming out of G - and Central, and then invited me to jiea to give me a hance 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 someone I had in all pr >babillty met and forgotten—and it was not until he was my employer, duly signed and seal ed, that I realized the full force of tKat first impact. Asked to Tea. But he was considerate and recom mended me to the attention of his partners in the most imp* rscnal, hard- !y-knew-you-were-a-girl sort of a way. And yet the girl 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 r 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 1 like Mr. James T. Clarke. Was T silly to go on the payroll of Clarke, Clarke and Clark? And Kitty, I want to know that man —so that is a perfectly good reason why 1 shouldn’t—since I am an employee in his office. Mr. Clarke is surely a gentleman—even it ae is a bit overly friendly. I shall have to prove that 1 am a lady, I suppose, by being over!!' unfriendly. Or, won’t I? Hurry up and give your sage opinion to Y' oi k’our loving MADGE. : Good Discipline :: T family needs a spiritual stimu lant during the present sea son,” said the young girl with the camera sltfng 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 srwift snapshot of you when you're not lopking. It can reveal and correct more beauty defects tnaji 52 visits to the vhop where they make you beautiful while you wait. 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 twenty-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 roil, 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 these points and you stay. ‘Don't you think the 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 modet’t. 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 you 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 And that several of the prints, w'ith the perversity of inani mate things, have slipped over the drain and a miniature 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. 1 ' “The heat has been off two hours and it’s 14) degrees below zero, and the kitchen has a west exposure, but you open the door and sweep strenu- r- ously and exhaustively. And you hear the splash of the water on the porch, on the landing below, then on the walk in the yard, and you think of the profile of drainage of the greafr lakes. And you tread lightly and softly, partly because you are re- l luctant to dislodge the water-soaked ceiling in the fiat 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.’ “After three hours of hard labor you close the door just before the milkman tears up the back stairs. And then, when you come to 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 hal ’ the night— well, amateur photography has done more for you than Gideon Bibles and long weeks of fasting and sacrifice!” WOMAN SICK FOURTEEN TEARS Restored to Health by Lydia E. Pirkham’s Vegetable Compound. Elkliart. Ind.:—“I suffered fc fourteen years from organic inflan rnation. f e m a 1 weakness, pain an irregularities. Th pains in my sidt were Increased h walking or siam ing on my feet an I had such awfi liearing down fee mgs, was depresse in spirits and Is eame t.’lln and pal with dull, heav yes. | laid s j doctors from whom I received onl temporary relief. I decided to giv Eydla E. Pinkhnm’s Vegetable Com pound a fair trial and also the Sam tive W ash. J have now used th remedies for four mouths and cai not express my thanks for what the have done for me. “If these lines will be of anv bent ht you have my permission to pul lish them. —Mbs. Sadu. WillxIm.' Ur ; James .Street, Elkhart. Indian, Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetab) Compound, made from native root and herbs, contains no narcotic <; harmful drugs, and to-day holds th record of being the most successft remedy for female Ills we know o and thousands of voluntary test monials on file In the I inkh'am lal oratory at Lynn. Mass seem l prove this fact. . y° u hav « the slightest doub that Lydia E. Pinkham 3 vegetao, UHiTtTu help > cu ' write t Lydia E. Pinkham Medic ne Co. Icor Ly o n V Mas *v for a«*Vio -ur let.er will he opened, read am answered hy a woman, and held ii strict confidence.