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BEAUTY SECRETS OF BEAUTIFUL WOMEN Eflie Shannon 1 ells Why t wenty - ficc Years ol Work Has Only Made Her Younger -lack Spencer’s Infatuation for the Widow Becomes Serins and His Wife Notices It. By MAX. M HUH *5. 1 had thought con stantly this morning of our evening with the widow jit the station last night; of Jack spencer’s evident infatuation!; of the way in Which he monopolized her, and the possessive manner in which he took her to the train, though I had hoped to have that privilege; of Sally Spencer’t only alf-concealed distress, and of the wid ow's triumphant look when she left us. ( She is an unscrupulous woman. So many women who are fascinating are, and she holds a grudge against Mrs. Spencer because of the efforts Sally made last winter to prevent me from marrying. All this made me uneasy, and know ing .lack to be weak, just as I am w'eak and just as all men are weak, 1 felt an apprehension that was almost womanish. I was not surprised during the morn ing to get a telephone message from Mrs. Spencer to come over for a little "plain talk,’’ she said, and it whs with a decided feeling of relief that I as sented. He Walked In. With the privilege granted an old friend I did not stop to knock when I reached Mrs. Spencer’s door, but walked in unannounced, making my way to a certain little sunny sitting room where she always spent her mornings making up her household accounts, sewing, writing letters and 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 hands lying idly on her lap she was gazing intently through the window. [ stepped behind her and looked over her head to see whai 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 had placed a little table on the lawn, and Manette jiving a dinner party, with Sarah Hartman, four dolls, the brown- was Rae eyed pup and two kittens as her guests The dolls were sitting bolt upright In their chairs with faces so lacking in expression that they looked like real _^afciety ladies; the two kittens on one » dude, not so w r ell bred, were lapping cream from tiny saucers on the table, and the pup. on the opposite side, w’as barking so fiercely it became necessary fur Manette to' pause while feeding a doll on her lap to pacify him by stick ing a cake in his mouth. His anger ar the kittens, plainly because of their ill-breeding, could not be choked off by rake, and we looked and he gave one bound across the tdble. the kittens fled Vithout asking to be excused, and sought shelter up the nearest tree with the pup at their heels. T 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, but. dropped the doll baby and ran after the pup. Tomp kins caught him before he had caught the kittens and restored him to Ma- nette’s arms, who punished him by put ting him to bed in a doll buggy. There he lay, with his head on a pillow, his brown eyes making a plea for pardon and his pink tongue hanging out. She Weeps. "Does life offer any greater pleasure Ilian that?" I said to Mrs. Spencer when she had turned around and found me there. Then I 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. ";b all there is in life worth while. The love men and women have for each other is only a means to hap- f piness. and that is never attained unless there is a child. "Your home, though you are a bach elor, is happier than mine because of the presence of a child. I tell you, Max, vou don’t know how well off you are." "But." I argued, feeling that in some indefinable way 1 was put on the de fensive, “there are lonesome moments even when there ts a child. I am a man grown with all a man’s longing for the companionship of his peers, and baby talk does not satisfy me. 1 get down to Manette’s size every hour in the day, and when evening comes and she has vone to bed I-long for the companion - * > of one who talks my own lan guage. And,” growing more emphatic because of the look of disapproval in hei eyes, "it is a longing that the society of men doesn't satisfy, and as good and patient as you and Jack are with me, letting me 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 fte are as happy as we are. You have no wife to ‘understand’ you." a little sarcastically, "and 1 have a husband who doesn't understand’ me, but you have a child, and are better off than I." "If you feel that way about it. why don't you ado'pt one? There's Sarah 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 eves 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—’’ I stammered. "1 Intend to ask her here to spend a week," she replied. “Sally," I said, “you are mad. If Jack is infatuated with the vridow. why do you want t 0 make his infatuation worse? She is gone. He 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 pockej. copied Hrs. Brown's address on a card I found on the table, and handed it to her without a word. "By the way. if she had almost forgotten it; Margaret Hill is com ing also." Margaret Hill! The girl I asked to be my wife, but who refused me when she learned there was a breach of promise suit pending against me. The good lit tle Puritan, who was so good she was too good! I am sure my face showed my surprise. A Bitter Cry. "I tried to tell you at the station last night." *he 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 J.lck Spencer’s love when I was a girl twenty years ago. and I have been engaged in trying to keep it won ever since. T sometimes wonder"—a 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 give him i ust so much of myself that he will never ;now 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 I have his love, what do I possess? Something about as lasting as a soap bubble, and never worth the price!" "Look here. Sally Spencer." I said in real alarm, for this was so unlike her. "you are getting morbid, and 1 won’t stand for it. Come with me," draw ing her from her chair, and leading her to the door. Five minutes later wo were highly honored guests a: the table of Sarah Rae. who was hostess this time, each holding a kitten and a doll as a special mark of honor. But is that so, Diary, what she said about the love of man? Use Palmer’s Skin Whitener And Watch Your Skin Turn Lighter D ON'T doubt its possibility. Idle doubt never yet accomplished anything. Put it to an actual test. If you have a very dark and coarse, swarthy looking complexion, and you want to improve it,'do something. There is nothing that (‘an’t be improved. We Will Give You Free a Trial Box of painter's skin Whitener. Use it and see with your own eyes what it doe?. There i? absolutely no doubt about its marvelous whitening effect upon a dark complexion. You can watch the skin turning fairer after each application. And it clears the complexion of all blotches and makes the skin soft and smooth. You Can Believe Your Own Eves — an( * tliat * S W hj’ We give you a free sample bo*. We could show you hundreds of testi monials from enthusiastic users of Palmer's Skin Whitener, but prefer to let you use it and watch the actual improvement in your own complexion. Palmer's Skin Whitener Is Made in our own la bora- Torv^nd we guarantee it to be pure and harmless.’ Beware of worthless and dangerous imitations with which the market is flooded. Regular price, 25c, postpaid. We will give you a free trial box if you will present this ad vertisement at any of our stores. If sample is to be mailed, send 4c for postage. We want Good Agents. Big Money, made easily. If you are interested, write us for terms. FOR SALE BY ALL JACOBS’ STORES AND DRUGGISTS GENERALLY. By LILLIAN LAUFFERTY. T HE "Everybody's Doing It" of to day is—trying to \ox : i young. Pow der, pencil, patches, paint—art and artIflce—these are the 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 so young and charming in spirit that the years creep on as friends, rather than ene mies. There Is a secret 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. DELICATE, DAINTY EFFIE SHANNON HAS BEEN A WORKER FOR TWENTY-FIVE YEARS. Think of that, you little girls who fret lest your days of toil cheat you of youth and make you old before you have crossed life's threshold! As the curtain falls on the evening- hushed rose garden in "Years of Dis cretion" at the Belasoo Theater, Miss Shannon is happily echoing her lover- husband’s, "It is wonderful to be old." TT IS 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 I am not young any more. Think of all the experience—the richness and fullness of life that I 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?" I asked. Beauty Is Expression. f with light shoes on? TIGHT SHOES I TORTURE YOUR MIND AS WELL AS YOI’R FEET. And 'five pairs of ^xp ttr^a and to acquire beauty or to\accent it, a woman must have imagination and sympathy. "I 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 deep Into life and interpreting it. Sym pathy means being in tuwe wfth 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. Do you remember that quotation? # You seem to live it.” 1 said. Her lovely illuminating smile lit Miss Shannon's face. "I do remember —‘The Beloved Vagabond said it— and women who value their great gift, beauty, must cultivate the flowers 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 Link that will insure a beautiful ex pression-deep, tender eyes, a sweet mouth and a happy soul to illuminate be face?" asked the charming star ear nestly. Beware of Fat. "I do, indeed," T replied. "We all must cultivate our gardens. Rut how about uprooting the weeds—fat for instance?” "Fat i»- 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! "I will tell you how simply I live. Breakfast: Tea. toast and a bit o* fruit. Luncheon—nothing. Not a bite. Dinner I have at five every day—and it is a very simple meal. After the play T have a simple supper, too, if I 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. So I go to simple little suppers and ft joy them. "Food is not the only practical con- si<Jeration in connection with keeping hin. A very important one is: DON'T TAKE NAPS. Those little afternoon sleepy times are dangerously fattening—and life is too short to sleep away. Keep busy—keep doing things, and 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 tignt clothes and shoes as you do in the play In or der to be young and alluring," I asked? "NO!” said the graceful star em phatically. "Who could be charming Helen, from a Box, Looks Down Upon Warren at a Banquet at the Astor-Ritz. By MABEL HERBERT URNER “BE St JRE TO BURN LOVE - LET TERS” By ELLA WHEELER WILCOX. "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. It will be nec essary for us to know exactly how much the fine will be." "But 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 I am sure, when you learn the full cir cumstances of the case, you will entirely agree to my proposition. You see, the prisoner is in tlie possession of $60; my fee is $50, and so we cannot afford to plead guilty if you insist on fining him more than $10." Miss Effie Shannon in Two Charming Poses. 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 letters. I^et them perish in their own fires as soon as absorbed by the eye and heart. If your engagement is broken, even though one or both swear never to mar ry, nevertheless it is worse than folly to keep the letters exchange# during the existence of tender relations. Fate plays such strange pranks with us all. Your lover may some day be President of the United States, or youi sweetheart the wife of a great celebrity, and unnecessary pain and annoyance en sue from the unearthing of those old letters by some accident. Burn them, I say, burn them! VERY FOOLISH. I T is 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 bis brief disaster—unless he carries about with him the incriminating let ter. Oh, the folly of it! 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 who has not at some time kissed the page whereon 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 his own hea!rt scorching with the parcel of letters he tossed upon the coals? But hurmin hearts have a Phoenix-like propensity for rising from their own ashes, strong with new life and capable of new emotions. Let there be no ac cusing records of the old. Let the dead bury its dead. However it hurts, whatever it costs, burn your love letters Cleek of the Forty Faces By T. W. HANSHAW. Copyright by Doubleday, Page & Co. TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT. "I knew her the instant I entered the house; and. remembering the Chanticler 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 thejmarks 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 hint to slip away into the house proper and search every trunk and cupboard for them. "What’s that? No. I don’t think they really had any idea of incrim inating .Sir Rbger Droger. That thought came into the fellow's 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 the 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 rook' watt 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 sh# had pointed out, looked a bit fishy; but, of course, un til 1 actually met her nothing really tangible began to take shape in my thoughts. "That’s all, 1 think. And now good night. aruLgood luck to you, Miss Ren frew. The riddle is solved: and Mr. Narkom and 1 must be getting back to the wilderness and to our ground floor beds in the hotel of the beautiful stars! ” THE END. F 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 be whirling through the streets one at 9:30 was for Helen a new sensation, and always self-conscious, 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 tickeL for Helen. She was supposed to ar rive about 10. to sit In a box over looking the banquet hall and Helen to the speech** 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 In which were already seated three beautifully gowned women. Below w’as 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 w’as a brilliant scene—the lights, the flower-decked tables, the high, gilded ceiling and gleaming chan deliers. Helen's first impulse as she leaned over the red plush railing or 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 w’ith a white carnation in his buttonhole. Not WaiTen. Was that Warren with his back to wards her at that table by the pillar? She 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 lor 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 ice and refilled his 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- tnds were not at handsome and dis tinguished as Warren. The waiters had now all lined up by the door, each carrying a tray piled nigh with small white boxes—the din 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! waiters 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 w r on dered why he was chairman small and insignificant with a thin voice that did not carry. After some tedious remarks which no one could hear, he in troduced the first speaker of the even ing. Dr. Olony, an ^riinent sociologist. Helen leaned forward with eager in-; terest. The speakers were all promt-i nent men. and she felt thfr addrseesj would be well worth hearing. But Dr. Olony began with the usual trite pre liminary remarks about It being "an honor to address so distinguished a gathering." Then to Helen's dismay he produced a formidable manuscript and haired regal-looking woman. She wan undeniably beautiful Her gown of white lace was cut strikingly low, and there were strands of pearls about her throat and in her hair. Helen was noC often jealous, hut somehow she fel6 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 the chairman rapped for order. This time a United States Senator was introduced. To Helen’s relief ho had no notes, his voice 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 be bored, was becoming restive. "How many more of these guys do we have to stand for?" drawing from hff 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, wed better wait a little longer! It'll look rude to leave so early* Mr. Jennings will think we dldnlt en joy it." \ "Guess lie'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 phrafces 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 w’as becoming impatient and restive, even the chairman had” hia mallet poised as though anxious to rap 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 gbod for another hour yet. Come ON!” "But dear, we must wait—we can't leave while he rf speaking," whispered Helen. "Like to know why we can’t? Here's where I get out!” "And I didn’t get the souvenir—£ 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'll wager he’s spout- mg there yet." "Yes, he WAS tiresome," Helen ad mitted, sinking back in the taxicab with n 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." KANSAS WOMAN WHO SUFFERED From Headache, Backache, Dizziness and Nervousness, Restored to Health by Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound. Lawrence, Kans. — “ A year ago I was lie wa? suffering from a numberof ailments. I always bad pain and was irregular. Dur ing tile delay I suf fered a great deal with headache,back ache, dizziness, fev erish spells,nervous ness and bloating. I had been married nearly three years. I took Lydia E. Pink- ham’s Vegetable Compound and now I feel better than I have for years, t preceded to read it. Everybody rat back resignedly. After j recommend Lydia E pjnkham’s Vege- the first few moments Helen pretend to listen. The women table Compound to all who suffer as t did.”—Mrs. M. Zeuner, 1045 New Jer- her kept up a running conversation. _ T Several men had now come up to the se y Street, Lawrence, Kansas, various boxes to Bit with their wives; Montana Woman’s Case. and friends. The eminent Dr. Olony wasi R nrna Mont — “ T vdia F. Pinlrh.m'w still reading in a monotonous voice. ' Burns > Mont. — Hyena t inknam s Helen's glance never left Warren for Vegetable Compound cured me of awful long, and now .he raw him jjj.h bj.ch backache which I had suffered with for his chair and leave the table. He-looked 1 up and nodded He was coming up to months. I was so weak I could hardly do her! my work and my head and eyes ached all he' e'mel ed h ?he d ho x ml "took 't'he' S the time. Your Compound helped mo beside her. in many ways and is a great strength- Oh, dear, it s very interesting, hap- pnpt* T alwsvs recommend it to rnv pil v excited now that she was with her. ?. * 1 always recommend IL to my How wonderful he looked—how dis- fnends and tell them what a grand mea- proudfy 16 ^ ! H<?r eyeS rested on h,m Icine it is for women. You may use my “Rotten speaker.' he grumbled. "A ” ame |° r the good of others. ’ —Mrs. man ought to be mobbed for reading a JOHN FRANCIS, Bums, Montana, speech at a dinner like this. What peo- . T j* r» tv i u » pie want is short pointed addresses ot 1 lne makers Of Lydia L. rinknam 9 say five minutes That boob's been Vegetable Compound have thousands of. ^‘‘Oh, dear you didn't bring me your such letters as those above they tell souvenir. I wanted so much to see the truth, else they could not have beei} th “Forgot the blamed thing met it fo , obtained for love or money. This med- you later. Wonde who that stunning icine is no stranger —it has stood the woman is in that box over there?” *_*«. , ronra Helen followed his glance to the dark-, vca1 ’ Ior I Do You Worry? Tom Powers, the Famous Cartoonist, Has a Scream ingly Funny Feature in The i Sunday American