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A Bachelor’s Diary
Jack SpencerV Infatuation for the Widow lieeonies
Serins and His \\ ife Notices 11.
BEAUTY SECRETS OF BEAUTIFUL WOMEN
Effie Shannon I ells Why Twenty-five Years of Work Has Only Made Her Younger
By LILLIAN LAUFFERTY.
M r ARCH SS—1 I|»(1 thought con-
auntly this morning vf >>ur
[ rvenlng with Ihr widow at the
station laaf night; of .laefc
spanner s evident Infatuation; of the way
in whlrh he monopolized her, ami the
noeaeaalvc manner In which he took her
to the train, though I hail hoped to have
that privilege; of Sally Spencer's only
half-ooneealed diatreaa, and of the wld
ow e triumphant look when she left us.
She la an unscrupulous woman So
many women who are fascinating are.
and aha holds a grudge against Mrs
Spencer because of the efforts Bally
made last wintSt to prevent me from
marrying.
All this made me unaasy. and know
ing Jack to be weak, Just as I am weak
and Jtist as all men are weak. I felt an
, i-prehension that was almost womanish.
1 was net surprised during the morn
ing to gel a telephone message from
Mrs. Bpeneer to come over for a little
plain talk. ' she said, and it was with
a decided feeling of relief that I as
sented.
He Walked In.
With the privilege granted old
friend I did not stop to knock when I
refcctlftd Mr?. Spencer*? door, but walked
in unannounced, making my way to a
certain little sunny elttlng room where
she aJwey? spent her morning? making
up her household account?, sewing,
writing letter? ai?d engaged In similar
little tasks which take up so much of
a methodical woman’s time, and which
we men neither can comprehend nor ap
preciate
She had been engaged in running a
ribbon through some dainty lace-trim
med garment, but it had fallen un
noticed to the floor beside her. and with
her hand* lying Idly on her lap she was
gazing intently through the window.
I stepped behind her and looked over
her head to see what so engrossed her.
The window commanded a view of my
back lawn and the picture at which she
gazed was so pretty I did not wonder
at her absorption. Richards hed placed
a little table on the lawn, and Manette
was giving a dinner party, with Sarah
Rae Hartman, four dolls, the brown-
eyed pun and two kittens as her guests.
The dolls were alt ting bolt upright In
their chairs with faces so lacking in
expression that they looked like real
society ladles; the two kittens on one
side, not so well bred, were lapping
cream from tiny saucers on the table,
and tlie pup. ou the opposite side, was
harking so fiercely it became necessary
for Manette to pause while feeding a
doll on her lap to pacify him by stick
ing a cake in his mouth. His anger
at the kittens, plainly because of their
111-breeding, could not be choked off by
< ake. and we looked and he gave one
hound across the table, the kittens fled
without asking to he excused, and
sought shelter up the nearest tree with
the pup at their heels.
1 am proud of Manette for many
things, and one is that she seldom cries.
With her tea table upset and her tea
party broken up, she did not give a
howl like most babies, tout dropped the
doll baby and ran after the pup Tomp
kins caught him before be had caught
the kittens and restored him to Ma
nette’* arms, who punished him by put
ting him to bed in a doll buggy'. There
he lay, with til? head on a pillow, his
brown eyes making a plea for pardon
and bis pfflk tongue hanging out
She Weeps.
“Does life offer any greater pleasure
than that 0 1 said to Mr* Spencer
when she had turned around and found
me there Then 1 noticed that her eyes
were filled with tears
"Max," she said, drawing up a chair
for me. “that,” looking to where Ma
nette was tying a doll bonnet on the
pup's head, preparatory to taking him
for a ride. “Is all there is In life worth
while The love men and women have
for each other is only a means to hap
piness. and that is never attained unless
there is a child
“Tour home, though you are a bach
elor, is happier than mine because of
the presence of a child. I tell you. Max.
you don't know how well off you are.”
“But,” I argued, feeling that In some
indefinable way l was put on the de
fensive. “there are lonesome moments
even when there Is a child I am a man
growrn with all a man's longing for the
By MAX.
ompanionship of his pears, and tmby 1
alk does not satisfy me. 1 gel down
,o Manette's size every hour In the day. '
and when evening comes and she has
ne to bed 1 long for the companion-
lit of one who talks my own lan
guage. And.” growing more emphatic
because of the look of disapproval in her
eyes. "It Is a longing that the society
of men doesn't satisfy, and as good and
patient as you and .Tack arc with ine.
letting rue come over here every even
ing to forget my loneliness, it Is a crav
ing that even the companionship of two
such good friends can't gratify Oh,
Sally, you are a woman, and a woman
never understands’”
A Suggestion.
"No,” she said sadly, "a woman never
understands. And a man never under
stands either, and here we are. tied to
gether for life, and neither understand
ing the other It is a wonder we are as
happy as we are You have no wife to
'understand' you,” a little sarcastically,
and I have a husband who doesn’t
understand’ me, hut you have a child,
and are belter off thffn I.”
"If you feel that way about it. why
don’t you adopt one? There's Ha rah
Rae, for Instance. I have an idea her
parents would be glad to give her
away "
She paid no heed to what I had said,
but gazed out of the window with her
mind so far away that her eyes took
no note of the efforts Sarah Rae was
making to hold the pup In. the doll
buggy while Manette dragged It back
and forth on the garden path.
She turned toward me very suddenly.
“What Is Mrs, Brown’s address?”
“But why—” 1 stammered
“I Intend to ask her here to spend a
week,” she replied
“Hallv,” I said, “you are mad If Jack
Is infHtualed with the widow, why do
you want to make hla Infatuation worse?
Hhe la gone lie will never see her
again, and why, for the lord's sake,
give him a chance to play with fire by
having her here?”
"You say a woman never under
stands You are wrong; it is your sex
that is stupid ”
"But -" I began. Then I decided it
was no use There is never any use of
arguing with a woman, so I pulled a
notebook out of my pocket, copied Hrs.
Brown’s dddrees on a card I found on
the table, and handed It to her without
a word. ,
"By the way." as If she had almost
forgotten it; "Margaret Hill is com
ing also
fdargaret Hill! The girl 1 asked to be
my wife, but who refused me when she
learned there was a breach of promise
suit pending against me. 'Ph© good lit
tle Puritan, who was so good she was
too good! 1 am sure my face showed
my surprise
A Bitter Cry
"1 tried to tell you at the station
last night,” she continued, "but you
were so absorbed In the coming of the
widow' you refused to hear me
"Max, - abruptly changing the subject,
"is a man s love ever won for all time?
1 won .lack Spencer's love when I was a
girl twenty years ago. and I have been
engaged In trying to keep ii won ever
since T sometimes wonder" little
bitterly "if the love of a husband is
worth the struggle a Woman must make
to hold it. It is fight, fight, fight, all
the time, a fight to retain my personal
charms, a fight to keep him Interested,
a fight to forget myself In satisfying
every longing he may have, physical,
mental or spiritual; a fight to gVv© hitn
lust so much of myself that he will never
know satiety and will always want more,
a fight to keep him from the clutches
of that Other Woman, always standing
like a threatening phantom in the back
ground. and then, when T have his love,
what do I possess? Something about as
lasting as a soap bubble, and. never
worth the price!"
"Look here. Sally Spencer." 1 said In
real alarm, for this was so unlike her.
‘•you are getting morbid, and I won't
stand for it t ome with me.” draw
ing her from her chair, and leading her
to the door
Five minutes later we were highly
honored guest a at the table of Sarah
Rae. who was hoatess this time, each
holding a kitten and a doll as a special
mark of honor.
But l« that so. Diary, what she said
about the love of man?
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AND DRUGGISTS GENERALLY.
T HU "Everybody's Doing It” of to
day Is trying to look young. Pow
der, pencil, patches, paint—art and
artifice these are ihe methods most of
us accept; and these methods are all
wrong; they "gild the surface” and
scarcely deceive the most, casual' ob
server.
But there is a way to be ho young
and charming in spirit that the years
creep on as friends, rather than ene
mies. There Is a eecret of eternal
youth and Effie Shannon knows It.
After a quarter of a century on the
stage, Effie Shannon stands before us,
slender, vibrant with life, magnetic and
lovely, with the beauty of a clean-cut
cameo. DEDICATE, DAINTY EFFIE
SHANNON HAS BEEN A WORKER
FOR TWENTY-FIVE YKAKH. Think of
that, you little glrlH who fret lest your
days of toil cheat you of youth and
make you old before you have crossed
life’s threshold!
A" the curtain falls on the evening-
hushed rose garden In "Years of Dis
cretion” at the Helasco Theater, Miss
Shannon is happily echoing tier lover-
husband's, “It is wonderful to he old.”
IT IK WONDERFUL TO BE OLD. IF
YOU HAVE THE INNER SPIRIT OF
ETERNAL YOUTH like Effie, of the
play, and the charming woman who
portrays her
In the close intimacy of the dress
ing room, Miss Shannon is absolutely
fresh and untouched by time, and yet
she calmly said. “I am glad l am not
young any more. Think of all the
experience the richness and fullness of
life that 1 know. Think how high
my spirit has fed. Do you think I’d
give any of it any line on my face
and retrace the years, and have a
pretty mask with no background of
life and feeling'.'
"Then to you true beauty is expres
sion. Is it not?" 1 asked.
Beauty Is Expression.
"Ye?; true beauty IS expression
and to acquire beauty or to accent It,
a woman must have Imagination and
sympathy.
"1 never can sufficiently emphasize
imagination and sympathy. Cultivate
them they are a woman's greatest
friends They give a deeper meaning
to loveliness, and they veil plainness.
“Imagination means dreaming- seeing
defep Into life and Interpreting it. Syin- j
pathy means being In tuwe wTth all of
It.
"And as the years pass, a woman
becomes more and more capable of
them. So why should not a woman
who cultivates these qualities become !
lovelier with the years?”
" 'We must cultivate our garden, j
Do you remember that quotation? You j
seem to live It.” I said.
Her lovely illuminating smile lit I
Miss Shannon's face. "I do remember {
— 'The Beloved Vagabond' said It—
and women who value their great
gift, beauty, must cultivate the flowers J
of Imagination and sympathy In the
garden of mind and soul. And live!
Live life in fullness Remember you
are an individual—a separate soul and
learn to be your true self. Don't you
think that will Insure a beautiful ex
pression deep, tender eye*, a sweet
mouth and a happy soul to Illuminate
he face?" asked the charming star ear
nestly.
Beware of Fat.
"1 do. indeed,” I replied "We all
must cultivate our gardens. But how
about uprooting the wheels- fat for
Instance?”
“Fat is a noxious weed," laughed
Miss Shannon. "Girls must never get
fat if they want to be beautiful.
People do eat too much in New York
in all the big cities where dinners
and teas at home or in the restaurants
are occasions Beware of too much or
too rich food!
"1 will tell you how simply T live
Breakfast Tea. toast and a bit ot
fruit. Luncheon nothing. Not a bite
Dinner T have at five every day—and
it Is a very simple ineal After tl
play 1 have a simple supper, too. if
am hungry One needs to see people
to keep In touch with life- to have mo
ments of gayety and absolute self-for
getfulness to be with friends. After
the play happens to be my free time
Ho I go to simple little supper? and
an joy them.
"Food is not the only practical con
sideration in connection with keeping
•hin. A very Important one is:
DON’T TAKE NAPS Those little
afternoon sieepy times are dangerously
fattening and life Is too short to sleep
away Keep busy- keep doing things,
ar.d you will grow in strength, but not
In beauty-destroying pounds."
"Suppose all else failed to give you
the modern ’straight silhouette.”
would you wear painfully tlgnt clothe?
and shoes as you do In the play in or
der to be young and alluring.' 9 I asked?
“NO!" said the graceful star em-
>hatlcally. "Who could be charming
An Eye to Business
"Prisoner at the bar,” declaimed the
learned Judge, “your offense is of such
a nature that, if you plead guilty. I
will let you off with a fine "
"Pardon me," and the prisoner's coun
sel popped suddenly up from his seat.
“Before we plead guilty, tt will be nec
essary for us to know exactly how much
the fine will be.”
"Rut this Is unprecedented, sir'” ex
claimed the Judge warmly. “You can
not bargain with the Court."
"Well. It may be a little unusual.
Your Honor,” replied the lawyer, "but
l am sure, when you learn the full cir
cumstances of the case, you will entirely
agree to my proposition. You see, the
prisoner is ln the ;>oe?ession of $60; my
fee Is $60. and so we cannot afford to
plead guilty if you insist on fining him
more than $10.“
f with tight shoes on? TIGHT SHOI.CK
TORTURE YOUR MIND A8 WELL
i AH YOUR FEET. And ‘five pairs of
i garters’ strapping you dAwn firmly
you could not feel Hi tune with fife
you would feel only pain—In this
world full of beauty you would be
conscious only of a body painfully
striving for fashionable contours. Good
corsets, shoes that fit, suitable clothes,
they will, when properly adjusted and
selected, help you give the impression
of youth. But they are the lesser aids.
"Youth is a matter of spirit and feel
ing. you know Feel young; think
young eager thoughts; love life In its
fullness of work and play and Joy and
sorrow.
"But to be beautiful, you must be
young In spirit not in years. TIME
AND EXPERIENCE AND FEELING
MUST CHISEL A FACE TO MAKE
IT REALLY BEAUTIFUL; THE SPIR
IT OF KNOWLEDGE MUST TLLUMI-
NATfC BEAUTY TO MAKE IT LOVE
LY AND PERMANENTLY ATTRAC
TIVE.
"Express your own true self always
better and better and then it 1?
‘wonderful to be old' - for your spirit
will be gloriously young, and your
SPIRIT WIL r MAKE YOU GLOW
WITH THE FIRES OF ETERNAI
YOUTH.”
And as Mias Shannon's voice, vibrant
with imagination and sympathy, alight
with feeling, and truly expressive of
her own rare self, brought me her mes
sage. 1 knew I had heard a vital
truth. Youth is deeper than powder
and paint and clothes Youth is Soul.
■m
Their Married Life
Helen, from u Box, Looks Down Upon Warren at a
Banquet at the Astor-Ritz.
By MABEL HERBERT URNER.
I
Miss Effie Shannon in Two Charming Poses.
“BE <
>URE TO BURN LOVE LET
By ELLA WHEELER WILCOX.
TERS”
D ON’T keep love letters.
Unless you are receiving them
from your own wife or husband or
your fiance, you might better keep a
box of dynamite in your kitchen or In
troduce an Infernal machine into your
household than to guard a package of
love letter?
T^et them perish in their own fire? a?
soon as absorbed by the eye and heart.
If your engagement is broken, even
(hough one or both swear never to mar
ry, nevertheless It 1s worse than folly
to keep the letters exchanged duriffg
the existence of tender relations.
Fete plays such strange pranks with
us all. Your lover may some day be
President of the United Stales, or vout
sweetheart the wife of a great celebrity,
and unnecessary pain and annoyance en
sue from the unearthing of those old
letters by some accident.
Hum them. I say. burn them!
VERY FOOLISH.
I T 1? one thing to have your husband
or wife tell you of an early rehearsal
of Cupid's drama before you met*. It is
another to encounter the love letters
written during that period—which seem
to your exacting heart more realistic
than the role you have been engaged to
play for life.
Sometimes a sensible moral being is
suddenly swept off his feet by a tidal
wave of passion.
Sometimes he is safely landed on shore
by a happy turn of the wind or by the
life-saving crew of Providence.
He hides his bruises, and no one knows
of his brief disaster—unless he carries
about with him the incriminating let
ter
Oh. the folly of ft!
BURN THEM ALL.
I T is no easy task, however, to bum
or destroy, a letter that is dear to
you. A genuine love letter breathes the
very fragrance of the writer's soul. Who
capable of understanding the grand pas
sion has not felt the keen sense of pleas
ure that was twin to pain at the sight
of the beloved one's handwriting? Where
is the man or woman so stolid or com
monplace w’lio has not at some time
kissed the page w hereon a dear hand has
rested and then hidden it near the heart
whose accelerated throbs welcomed its
approach?
And who of deep feeling and wide ex
perience has not at some time felt hfs
own heart scorching with the parcel of
letters he tossed upon the coala?
But human hearts have a Phoenix-like
propensity for rising from their own
ashes, strong with new life and capable
of new emotions. Let there he no ac
cusing records of the old.
I.*et the dead bury its dead.
However it hurts, whatever ft costs,
burn your love letters.
Cleek of the Forty Faces
By T. W. HANSHAW.
Copyright by Doubleclay, Page & Co.
TO-DAY'S INSTALLMENT.
“T knew her the instant I entered
the house; and, remembering the
Chantlder dress with its fowl’s-foot
boots. I guessed at once what those
marks would prove to be when I came
to investigate them. She must have
stamped on the ground with all her
might, to sink the marks in so deeply
—but she meant to make sure of
the claws and the exaggerated scales
on the toes leaving their imprint. I
was certain we should find that dress
and those boots among her effects;
and -Mr. Narkom did What I wrote
on that pretended telegram was for
him to slip away into the house
proper and search every trunk and
cupboard for them.
"What's that? No. T don't think
they really had any idea of incrim
inating Sir Roger Droger That
thought came into the fellows mind
when you stepped out and caught
him stealing away after the mur
der had been committed. No doubt
he. like you. had seen Sir Ralph
practicing for the sports, and he sim
ply made capital of it.
“The main idea was to kill his fa
ther and to destroy the will; and. of
course, when it became apparent that
the old gentleman had died intestate.
even a discarded son must inherit.
Where he made his blunder, however,
was in his haste to practice his ven-
triloquial accomplishment to prevent
your going into the Round House and
discovering that his father was al
ready dead.
"He ought to have waited until
you spoke, so that it would appear
natural for the old men to know with
out turning who it was that had
opened th® door. That is what put me
on the track of him. Until that mo
ment I hadn’t the slightest suspicion
where he was nor under what guise
he was hiding.
"Of course, I had a vague sus
picion even before I came and saw
her that ‘the cook’ was in it. Her
readiness in inventing a fictitious
gypsy with a bear’s muzzle coupled
with what Nippers had told me of the
animal marks she had pointed out,
looked a bit fishy; but, of course, un
til I actually met her nothing really
tangible began to take shape in my
thoughts.
"That’s all. I think And now good
night and good luck to you, Miss Ren
frew. The riddle is solved; and Mr.
Narkom and I must be getting back
to the wilderness and to our ground
floor beds in the hotel of the beautiful
stars! ”
THE END.
r was just 9:30 when Helen, in an
evening gown and long white* wrap,
hurried down to a taxicab.
"The Astor-Ritz.” she called to the
driver as she gathered her chiffon skirts
about her white satin slippers and
stepped in.
To he whirling through the streets
alone at 9:30 was for Helen a new
sensation, and always aelf-conscioiis,
she dreaded arriving at the Astor-Ritz
unescorted.
It was the night of the annual dinner
of the International Fraternal Society.
Mr. Jennings had invited Warren to the
dinner and had given him a box ticket
for Helen. She was supposed to ar
rive about 10, to sit ln a box over
looking the banquet hall and listen to
the speechee.
With a fluttering heart she left the
cab and ran up the awning-covered
steps of the Astor-Ritz. Keenly con
scious that she was alone, she hurried
through the lobby to the nearest ele
vator.
At the entrance to the balcony of the
banquet hall the doorman took her
ticket and escorted, her to one of the
boxes ln which were already seated
three beautifully gowned women.
Below was the banquet hall with a
long speakers’ table at the end, and
countless smaller tables crowded so close
that the waiters could hardly pass be
tween It was a brilliant scene—the
lights, the flower-decked tables, the
high, gilded celling and gleaming chan
deliers
Helen's first impulse a? she leaned
over the red plush railing of the box
was to find Warren. But it was not
easy to locate any one in that great
crowded hall, with all the diners in
evening dress, and each with a white
carnation in his buttonhole
Not Warren.
Was that Warren with his hack to
wards her at that table by the pillar?
Khe leaned forward eagerly, but as she
caught a glimpse of the man’s side
face her searching glance swept on to
other tables.
The waiters were just bringing on the
dessert—a pinkish ice in tall slender
glasses. There were many things in
the table appointments that Helen was
eager to notice, but she could not be
content until she had located Warren.
Then suddenly she saw him at a table
near the center. Why had she not seen
him at once? Surely no one else looked
so distinguished!
If he would only look up! But he was
talking to the man at his right. He
had promised to look for her around 10,
and it was that now, but he kept on
laughing and talking, not even glacing
towards the boxes.
The waiter had just placed before him
his frozen i<;e and refilled hi? wine glass.
Then Helen saw that every one at War
ren's table was drinking champagne.
Some of the other tables had cham
pagne, some had claret, and at a few
there were no wine glasses at all.
Warren was looking up now! He was
glancing toward the boxes! He saw
Helen and waved his napkin.
Helen flushed with pride as the other
women In the box turned to look at her.
In spite of their expensive gowns and
jewels Helen felt certain that their hus-
»ands were not at handsome and dis
tinguished as Warren.
The waiters had now ail lined up by
the door, each carrying a tray piled
nigh with small white boxes—the dim
ner souvenirs. At a sign from the head
waiter, they filed in and out through the
'ables, leaving a white box beside each
plate.
Had the diners been women, they
would have instantly opened the boxes,
but the men seemed hardly to notice
them. So Helen’s curiosity was not
gratified.
The Dinner Over.
At length the dinner was over. The
waiter? began carrying out the dishes
and the pink-shaded candles, most of
which had burned out. The orchestra
that had been playing in a balcony
above the boxes now stopped.
The chairman at the speakers’ table
rose and rapped for order. Helen won
dered why he was chairman. He was
small and insignificant with a thin voice 1
that did not carry. After some tedious!
remarks w^ich no one could hear, he in
troduced the first speaker of the even-j
ing. Dr. Olony, an eminent sociologist.'
Helen leaned forward with eager in - j
terest. The speakers were ali proml-[
nent men, and she felt thir addrsses!
would be well worth hearing. But Dr.!
Olony began with the usual trite pre
liminary remarks about it being "an I
honor to address so distinguished a|
gathering.” Then to Helen’s dismay he)
produced a formidable manuscript and
preceded to read it.
Everybody sat back resignedly. After
the first few mohients Helen did not
pretend to listen. The women beside
her kept up a running conversation.
Several men had now come up to the
various boxes to sit with their wives
and friends. The eminent Dr. Olony was
still reading in a monotonous voice.
Helen's glance never left Warren for
long, and now she saw him push back
his chair and leave the table. He looked
up and nodded. He was coming up to
her!
"Well, what do you think of it?” when
he entered the box and took the chair
beside her.
“Oh. dear, jt's very interesting, hap
pily excited now that she was with her.
How wonderful he looked—how dis
tinguished! Her ej’.es rested on him
proudly. *
“Rotten speaker,” he grumbled. "A
man ought to be mobbed for reading a
speech at a dinner like this. What peo
ple want is short pointed addresses of
say—five minutes. That boob’s been
spouting for fifteen.”
"Oh. dear you didn't bring me your
souvenir. I wanted so much to see
them.”
“Forgot the blamed thing. Get it for
you later. Wonde. who that stunning
woman is in that box over there?”
Helen followed his glance to the dark-
haired regal-looking woman Khe was
undeniably beautiful. Her gown of
white lace was cut strikingly low, ^nd
there were strands of pearls about her
throat and In her hair. Helen was not
often jealous, but somehow she felt
suddenly plain and poorly gowned be
side the striking loveliness of that
woman.
The speaker finished now and sat
down amid much applause. He bowed
repeatedly, not .seeming to realize that
the applause was only an expression of
relief that he was through. Again fhs
chairman rapped for order.
This time a United States Senator
was Introduced. To Helen's relief he
had no notes, his vbice was deep and
booming, and he was plainly used to
talking on his feet. But his ranting
eloquence was just words—empty
phrases. He had nothing particular t®
say and was merely ’’orating.’*
Warren, who loathed after-dinner
speaking, and who rarely attended big
dinners because he would not He bored,
was becoming restive.
"How many more of these guy a do we
have to stand for?” drawing from bis
pocket the dinner menu, on the back of
which were the names of the speakers.
"Suffering cats! FOUR more? Well. T
guess not! We’ll cut It and make for
home.”
"Oh, dear, we d better wait a Bttla
longer! It’ll look rude to leave so early*
Mr. Jennings will think we didn't en
joy It.”
“Giles* he's bored stiff, too. Why in
blazes don’t they have some live talkers
instead of ringing in a lot of dead
ones?”
If the speech of the eminent sociolo
gist had been long, the Senator’s seemed
interminable. He boomed on with high-
sounding phrases about “The Achieve
ments of the Nineteenth Century ,
The Splendid Strides of Civilization
The Advancement of Society,” and
something about “Shining Orbits In-"the
Sky of Future Progress Blazing in
Front of the Jeweled Crown of an Un
conquerable Race.”
Every' one was becoming impatient
and restive, even the chairman had his
mallet poised as though anxious to raj»
it, but still the Senator kept on shout
ing his oratorical phrases.
Missed the Souvenir.
"Gosh, that fellow loves to hear him
self talk,” growled Warren. “He’s good
for another hour yet. Come ON!”
"But dear, we must wait—we can’t
leave while he's speaking,” whispered
Helen.
"Like to know why we can’t? Here s
where I get out!”
"And I didn’t get the souvenir—I
didn't even see what they were!” be
wailed Helen, as Warren hurried her*
out through the crowded corridors of
the Astor-Ritz.
"Souvenirs!” with a contemptuous
sniff. "Well I wouldn’t have stood for
any more of that duffer’s speech for a
dozen souvenirs. i;il wager he’s spout-
ing there yet.”
y, Yes. he WAS tiresome,” Helen ad
mitted. sinking back in the taxicab with
a sigh of relief. Then laughingly,
"Dear, if you ever make an after-dinner
speech, don't begin by saying you ‘feel
honored to address so distinguished a
gathering And don’t—PLEASE don't
use a lot of fine phrases that mean
nothing.”
“Huh,” snorted Warren, "don't you
worry'. If ever I make a public speech
I’ll have something to say, and I’ll say it
blamed quick, and have gumption
enough to sit down when I'm through.”
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Tom Powers, the Famous
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