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>1 .4 By WILLIAM P. KIRK. u rpHAT Ing, A Charming Midsummer Hat sHAT must be some interest- that novel you are read ing there,'! remarked the Head Barber. "You ain't bail your 111 se out of It all the forenoon." "It is a beautiful atory, George. 1 almost cry In some parts of it. and " hen the laughs come they are aure great. I didn't skip a line of It. either, and 1 have just finished the last page The title of it is 'Starflower,' and It was wrote by Mrs. Eleanor Shirley llewflicker. And then they say that women can’t write! Maybe some women writes stories that is kind of l.onk and then gets made fun of b> the critics, but this woman that wrote 'Starflower' is some queen of a writ er. Gee. there is some love passages that is simply superfluous and almost sublimate. 'Starflower' is the name of the heroine, a little girl that always lived in the northern part of Pennsyl- , \ania. She is so pretty and sweet that she has lovers cotne from every- where to try to win her hand, out -he loves only one, a young man who) is doing scientific farming near her father's home. Of course science is • a great thing, George, and 1 suppose if it helps raise big crops it must help ;i man to make love, too. Anyhow, she loves him and some day they are to wed. Just listen to this part, where they are engaged. Very Pathetic. " 'Starflower.' whispered Robert, placing her little trembling palm In his strong right hand. 'Little girl, I am plain and direct In my speech, as \ ou know I can't write poetry for you. lilti ■ gitl. like the Byron poems \ou read to me out in the orchard,, and 1 ain't no Tennyson, but 1 .mi u man with a man's heart and two will ing hands. I love you!' I " 'And I love you, Bob.' murmured | St a mower, bewildered by the won derful t ush of happiness mat swept ( over i'er lit lie form and suffused her cheeks with the first flush of girlish, love. . . "Alt oriole flashed brightly through, the crimson sumac and the brook tip pled along like some soft accompani ment to the oldest, sweetest story in 1 he world.” "Gee, George; ain't that some writ ing?" . , , , "Did he marry her and make a lot of kale?" asked the practical Head Barber. "No. George." replied the Manicure Ladv. "That is the pitiful part of It. A young bridge builder named Walter Orr came to the little town where Ptarflow'er dwelt, and lie kind of daz zled her with his fine English and his wonderful piano playing. He was a college man. and her Robert didn't know nothing about Virgil or Horace or Ramoses or any of them old-timers, i u r ki all about tlie:\ all. and he could change hi- voice until it got as soft as the rustling of the breeze through tin autumn haves When h, was talking to Ills men lie spoke kind of commanding, but when he ( spoke to her he always spoke with j the soft pedal. One night, George. sin agreed to run awav with him. and ihe ip \: morning they were gone, .lust after they eioped Orr got tiled and lmd to take a position that paid- him about one-quarter iW much nion , \ a.-, her former sweetheart made I \( r> week out of his "registered milk 111 his registered eows. , T j* « \ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ REMEMBERING By WILLIAM F. KIRK. ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ I F I could Just remember, when the past is on parade, Rom* little deed of merit for each big mistake I've made, The other days, long vanished, would be glaci days to recall. Hut Memory leans toward wilder scenes—and I can see them all, If I could just remember, counting hack a score of years. One act that made a loved one smile—not ten that prompted tear> - I’d dream th«- past dreams over and forget the wasted wine, Hut Memory loves to taunt me with the errors that were mine. If I could just remember, in the twilight of my life. One speech that made for peace and love—not ten that hastened strife— The future might seem dreary and the present might be bare. Hut the past would be an orchard with a thousand songbirds there. The Girl With the Monocle No, This Isn’t English, Y Know; It’s the Rage in Paris How to Manage a Husband By DOROTHY DIX. By OLIVETTE A DAINTY little model this for wear with the lacy gowns of July and August. All in pure white, it tones well with the bright ryes and softly flushed cheeks of midsummer days. Draw folds of eoft chiffon or mousselaine de soie over the* crown and brim of a small milk-white straw shape chip will do. though milan is better and "horsehair” best of all. Around the crown draw taffeta ribbon flnishing in a "pump bow” directly in front. From under this bow, in either direction, lay sheafs of wheat in the prevailing tone of white. And now' the final touch is given by the coquettish ruches of soft chiffon that face the entire under brim and appear softly at the back where the brim has a decided upward roll. Sounds All Right. Sister’s Engagement TO-DAY’S COMPLETE STORY "When she saw' poverty staring her i the lace she took some Rind of a nwder and they found her still in i ath with a note to Robert pinned j n her night robe. TJien Robert j . .ird about it and wdnt so insane lat he called all his cows Starttow- "It sounds all right,” said the Head arber. "but I wouldn’t go nuts over o girl that threw me down!” William Jennings Bryan once visit ed Cornell University, and while being entertained to dinner by a prominent • 11 mber of the legal fraternity he told the following story: Once oul in Nebraska 1 went to protect against my real estate assess ment. and one of the things of which 1 particularly complained was assess ing a co t at I claimed that a g at was n<*t real property in the le gal sensu of t ; <■ word, and should not be assessed Ope of th« assessors, a v \ pi * ant-faced old man. vqry obliginVI> >- - aid that 1 could go up stairs w i h l m. and together we would look over the rules and regula- i it i ami -•••> what could be done. We looked over tin rules, and finally ihe old man asked: D<>« your goat run loose on this roa d ?’ 'Well, sometimes.’ said I, wonder ing what the penalty was for that dreadful offense. Do. he butt ." again queried the old man. " ‘Yes.’ 1 answered, ‘he but DC " 'Weil, said the old man, looking at me, ‘this rule says tax all property running and abutting on the highway. I don't sec that 1 can do anything for you. Good day. sir.’ ” Drink- Maxwell House Blend **T7ie Quality Coffee" More sold and more enjoyed than any other high grade cof fee in the South. Sealed cane at g racerb Cheek-Neal Coflee Ce., Nasfcrillc. Hmutofl, JaekawrriUa. (5v .f. T HE daughter of the household, aged 11, looked up from her book as the man caller canie into the library. “How r do you do, Mr. Dearmore,” she said, getting up politely. “You might as well take a comfortable chair be cause sister won’t be down for ages. She Is always slow about getting dress ed and I supposed now she’ll be slower than ever because she won't care If she does keep you waiting " “Well, why shouldn’t she care. I'd like to know.’" inquired the caller with an assumption of surprise designed to be comic. The young person hitched a little closer to him in her eagerness. “I just found out,” she told him. "to night. I guess they weren’t going to tell me. but sister was so interested in brushing out her switch that she didn't notice me. and mother said. ‘You might have done better if you’d had more ambition, but. thank heaven, you’re engaged at last!’ And sister said yes, it was time and she’d have to make the pent of it. Why. she's engaged! Don't you understand?” “You surprise me," said the caller, with interest. Very Exciting. The young person nodded her head. "It's awfully exciting to have an en gaged person in the family We never- had one before. 1 held my hand over my mouth to keep from askirg right out who it was, but 1 knew if 1 spoke they’d make me go away and then all they said was that where the trouser was coming from if dad didn't make a killing goodness only knew. What’s a trooser?" “A sort of feminine delirium, 1 be lieve,’’ the young man told her. Wouldn’t you like to read out loud to me from your book?” “Not when I car talk," the young person assured him, promptly. “I’d think it was Bob Samson, only he hasn't been here for ages. He's rid ing around a ranch out West now and he always brought me chocolates and petted the dog and waited hours and hours for sister. Mother told her one day for goodness sake when she got her hands on that huge old Samson house to burn it down and put up an other or.e with a French gray drawing room and other things, but 1 guess Bob slipped a cog somehow” “Er—what?’’ “Well, Aunt Clara said to mother that a cog in the wheels must have slipped somehow, and how dlu he ever get away, and wasn't it a pity! So I sup pose Bob did it. I always liked his chocolates—he bought me just as good ones as he bought sister. Sometimes they try to pass off cheap candy on me. but I know ! Then I feed it to the dog "I’m glad it wasn't that Siddens man He always called me 'little one’ and patted my head and he had bronchitis and always coughed before he spoke, and sister said she didn't care if he was rich, but she couldn’t endure a man who wore brown ties and ate grapefruit with a fork ami anyhow hr gave her the shivers That was the time gather scolued so and sister went to Aunt Clara's for a month. "I'm surprised at her getting engag ed. because she’ll have to have a house and meals then and she says picking out things to eat is simply awful and she. wouldn’t wear her life away keep ing down the grocery hills for any man ami he might as well make up his mind to it. Anyhow, sister never loses her head, because mother says so, and she'll make him toe the mark. Mother says that with her sweet smile sister could make a man believe white was black, but that seems foolish. Wouldn’t you know black if you saw’ it?” "1 used to think I was able to dis tinguish colors.” admitted the caller. ~p*HEY had admired all of the little J bride's wedding finery, and had finally drifted over to where the tea table was set by an open window’. ‘Well, my dear." said the woman in the soft white gown. "I hope you are going to be as happy as the days are long, and I am sure you will, for Jack is a fine fellow’, and he Is well to do. and an orphan, so you are going to escape hard times and moth ers-in-law, two of the principal snags that are most apt to make a big dent in the barque of matrimony, even when they don’t wreck it. “Still, you must not expect to find everything plain sailing. There are a good many storms on even the calmest son of wedlock, and you are going to find out that lots of things that you expected to happen won’t happen, and a lot of things that you were positive couldn’t occur, do, occur with amazing frequency. "Also, you are going to discover, and it will give you the jar of your life, that the noble ideal of perfect manhood that you are tying up with has got faults, and peculiarities, and whims, and crochets that you have never suspected concealed about his person. "Now you take it from me. that the great thing in married life is for the wife to begin right, to get off on the right foot, so to speak, for every nv#n can be managed, and brought to eat out of his wife’s hand, if only she goes about it in the proper manner.” "What is the best way of managing a husband?” anxiously inquired the little bride. The Best Way. “Well,” replied the woman in the soft white gown. “I can’t do better than relate to you the experiences of two friends of mine, both’ of whom married good men. but men who w ere high tempered, and tyrannical, and cross—the sort of men you know’ who possess all of the virtues and’none of the lovable qualities of life. They are the kind of husbands who are too much gentlemen ever to strike a woman with their hand, but who leave her bruised and bleeding, and wounded to death in spirit after they have stabbed her with their tongues. “There are lots of men like that, my dear, and when I got elected to the Legislature the very first tiling 1 am going to *do is to bring in a bill to make a man’s disposition, instead of his morals, a cause for divorce. “But back to my story. One of these women whom 1 am telling you is named Bertha, and she is one of those gentle, suave women who are born salve spreaders. Anything like a jolt in the domestic machinery hurts her to the very core of her being. She isn’t weak. Oh. dear no. She would hang on to a principle, or a conviction, to eternity, and be loyal to one she loved to the death itself, and if you pushed her to the wall f’he'd fight until there wasn't an en emy left alive, but she would never argue a question ’with you. or say a thing that would hurt your £eeling>. or do anything to make the slightest unpleasantness. “Well, when ihe rosy mists of the honeymoon rolled up and she discov ered that she was married to a man who w’as tw'in brother to the fretful porcupine, and whose prejudices sim ply strewed the ground around him. she undertook to manage him by tact. What She Did. "She only conversed upon the sub jects that she knew' he agreed with her upon. She devoted her days to rubbing his fur down the right way. She kept everything that was un pleasant, and that could possibly ruf fle him. hidden out of sight, and spent her life tip-toeing on eggs for fear of rousing him and exploding his in fernal machine of a temper. In short, in order to keep the peace and make her home happy, she went through a very martyrdom of sacrifice of all of her desires and inclinations. “H’m,” said the little bride, “and how did the other woman manage her husband?” "The other woman,” replied the woman of the soft, white dress, "was of a different type. She had a red headed temper of her own that was a dead ringer for her husband’s, be sides which she loved a scrap for the pure fun of the thing. She didn’t dodge the issue when her husband flung a debatable subject into the family arena. She simply rolled up her sleeves and sailed in, and when the domestic mix-up was over she wasn’t always the one who was on the mat. "She was a good woman, and a good wife and mother, who did her full duty by her family, and she stood pat on her record. She didn’t waste any time trying to jolly or cajole her husband as poor Bertha did. If he didn’t like the way she did things, and her opinions, why he could lump it. that was all. She was an inde pendent, free spoken woman, and she didn’t see why she should wear her self out flattering any old husband into doing the things he ought to do, anyway. "And she didn’t mind expressing these sentiments, but the result was that their house was a dark and bloody battle ground, with no day without its spat. But. that was her way of managing a husband.” “Which one of the systems work?” asked the little bride with a troubled air. “Neither,” replied the woman in the soft, white gown. Advice to the Lovelorn By BEATRICE FAIRFAX. GO TO AN ARTIST. F)BAB MISS FAIRFAX: Not a day that goes by that I am not told of the wonderfully beautiful hand I have. Artists have stopped me and apologized in the cars and commented on my beautiful hand. Of course, I paid no attention to these comments, but it seems that if I could ob tain some revenue through hav ing my hand posed I should like to avail myself of the opportu nity. MISS R. Have your mother go with you to the studio of some reputable artist and ask his opinion. I am sure, however, that there are many ways more lucrative and enno bling by which your hands can earn you a living. Have you tried them? DON'T GIVE IT. P)EAR MISS FAIRFAX: Is it proper for a young man of 18 to present his lady friend with a diamond ring on her six teenth birthday? We are not en- * gaged, but the love between us could not be broken, as w r e have known each other for four years. V. A. H. F. Eighteen and sixteen often decide their "bond of love can’t be broken," and change their minds ten times be fore they are old enough to marry. Your love may develop into a senti ment more lasting, but don’t give dia mond rings till you are older, and know'. THE OUTSIDE. T)EAR MISS FAIRFAX: "A” said that when a man is w’alking with two girl friends he must walk in the center. "B” said w'hen a man is walkinw with two girl9 he must walk on the outside. H. N. L. M. A gentleman should always take the outside of the walk. S URPRISING as it may seem, this is not an English fad at all, although London society is always given the credit —or discredit—for styles in monocles, but it is a novelty taken up by “smart” Parisiennes. Robbie met a neighbor who was smoking some fine, fragrant tobacco sent by his son in America. He took out his own pipe ostentatiously. "Hae you a match, Sandy?” he fn- •quired. The match was forthcoming, but nothing more. "I do believe,” said Robbie, “I haa left ma tobacco at hame.” “Then,” said Sandy, after a silence, “ye mioh’ gie me back ma match.’ From Innocence of Thought By Virginia Terhune Van De Water A Surprise. "Hut you’re different.” said the young person. “It isn’t as though you were one of sister’s trailers that’s what dad calls ’em. It doesn’t make any differ ence to you. Only I thought if I told you about it you’d understand why she didn't hurry to get down here, now she's interested ip one particular man." “Well." said the taller. “I’ll tell you a secret. I'm the particular man!" The young person’s eyes bulged "Honest? ' she squealed. "Why. ! was never so sur-r-p-prised in my 1-1-11 fe! And you never petted the dog once! My, but you’re quiet!" Flying Men’s Mascots CURIOUS SUPERSTITIONS OF AVIATORS. Snap Shots By LILLIAN LAUFERTY. 11 K I S RECIPE FOR WRITING. THK one way to write i to do it down to your typing ma- hlne and rattle the keys till a poem slips out where mere space lias just been. Sounds simple—well, lis- ten: it isn't; it’s only the way you should write. Do 1 do it? Well, no. I’m confessing that it’s not thus my songs I indite. Hut I lake up my lit tle tan Faber, and cudgel my little gray brain, and i cover great sheets of white paper right over and over again with lead marks of black and w Ith smudges which mean that 1 had to erase. Each "1 just dashed off” chap really drudges. He denies? Then he’v paid for his "space!" • * • ENVOI. A little work, a little play To keep us going—and so. Good-day! A link' warmth, a little light Of love's bestowing—and so. Good-night! A little fun to match the sorrow Of eacn day’s growing—and so. Good-morrow ! A little trust tiiat when we die We reap our sowing! And so— Good-bye! -George DuMaurier. * * • MAIDEN MUSINGS. The man a girl can influence does not need it. Men generally give us what we ex pect of them. Think well of a scamp and his natural conceit wi'l make hi:n \.ti!\ to keep on fooling you. L UCK plays a big part in the life of an aviator, and for this reason most airmen are very superstitious. The I majority of aviators carry mascots | when they fly, and the cleverer the pilot ihe more the luck-bringing emblems he seems to possess. Yedrines. the crack French flyer, always has a min iature of the famous picture "Mona Lisa” fastened t« the side of his aero plane when he starts on a Right. He carried this picture on his racing mon oplane recently when lie won the cud at a record speed of 105 miles an hour. Grahame-White does not trouble about mascots to any great extent, but he in variably wears a pair of check riding breeches under his flying overalls when he makes a flight. These garments are popularly supposed to be lucky, and many other aviators have adopted a similar flying garb. Notable among these is Biolovoucic. the young Peru vian airman, who recently flew over the Alps. A Lion's Tooth. Another favorite mascot is a little Teddy bear which is strapped to one of the wing stays on the machine. In uaval flying circles a lion's tooth is considered to be a lucky mascot for airmen- a fashion created by the late Lieutenant Parke, for with such an em blem he came out of many serious smashes unscathed. Lewis Turner, the well-known pilot instructor, who flies the Caudron biplanes, has so many mas cots .hat he is generally in doubt as to which he shall take up with him. He recently remarked that were he to wear all his mascots at once he would Ik* mistaken for a toy dealer. There are many quaint superstitions in vogue at the aerodromes. Chief among these is that should a pilot have one smash he will have two others on the same day if he continues flying. This belief is so flrmly rooted in the minds of most aviators that after a mishap they seldom again trust themselves on a machine until twenty-four hours have passed. Unlucky Thirteen. Many airmen also have a supersti tious dislike of flying in bright sunshine. Bui there is a substratum of common sense running through this belief. The hot rays of the sun when shining on a Jump ground cause heat eddies in the air, w’hich are very dangerous to flying men. These are known as air pockets, which are holes in the air that contain no support for machine or man. Flying on the thirteenth day of the month is irt great disfavor amongst many airmen. And this superstition is largely due to the fact that so many fatal accidents haw occurred to airmen on this date. last year ten pilots were killed whilst flying on tne thir teenth of the different .months and al ready this year three airmen have been killed, two on the thirteenth of Jan uary and one on the thirteenth of Feb ruary. Airmen are also influenced by the behavior of animals on the ground when they are flying over them. If horses or cattle appear terrified at a pilot's approach, and utter wa r ning cries, then this is regarded as an omen of ill-luck. But if the animals over which lie*, is passing are not alarmed to any extent by his approach, then he has little fear that his flight will be anything but suc cessful. Another bad omen is the stopping of a watch on an aeroplane when It is aloft. Lady passengers are popularly sup posed to ensure the success of an areo plane flight. One of the most consist- tent luck-brir.gers in this respect, is Miss Trehawke Davies. She invaria bly brings luck to the pilot who takes her on a flight. She recently accom panied Hammel in the Aerial Flying Derby round London when he obtained the second place after a magnificent flight. Miss Davies flew on several occasions with the late Mr. Astley. A few days before his death this airman, whilst flying with Miss Davies, fell in his monoplane from a height of nearly a hundred feet. Beth pilot and pas senger escaped with a shaking. A few days later Mr. Astley, when flying alone on a similar machine in Ireland, side slipped in the air at a low altitude and was killed on the spot. Got It Regular Then. Mrs. Subbub: "1 wonder what's come over your master this morning, Sarah? Instead of being cross, as usual, he started off happy and whis tling like a bird." Sarah (the new "general"): ‘Tm afraid it’s my fault, mum. I got the wrong package, and gave him bird seed for breakfast food.” M UCH has* been written and said within the past few years in commendation of the broad lines on which the* training and edu cation of the modern girl is conduct ed. To add further approval to this twentieth century method would be platitudinous. To cast a slur upon it, or to hint that the latest ideal in the upbringing of women has its attend ant drawbacks, is to lajf one’s s. If open to the onus of being old-fash ioned. It m a sin in the minds of most people of this generation to be old- fashioned or behind the times in ideals and theories. Yet some of u? conservatives still cling to certain of the tenets that were instilled into us 20 and 30 years ago. The memory of our own girlhood sometimes leads u ;i to compare the girl of the period with the “young person” of our early days, and the modern product does not emerge unscathed from the compari son. Jt would be carrying conservatism Daysey Mayme And Her Folks By FRANCES L. GARSIDE. I YSANDER foil X APPLETON has an affectionate disposition. Unless her mouth is full of pins or hairpins, he never leaves the house without kissing his wife good bye. On rare occasions he has given her money as he was leaving, and when in her alacrity to accept it she has forgotten to kiss him he has been grievously pained. He lias ne.ver ex perienced that feeling of momentary reprieve which comes to colder-heart ed husbands on such occasions. He was in a tender mood the other evening, and sought to put his arm around his wife’s waist. Alas for the ignorance of man and the tyr anny of fashion! He couldn’t find it! He stepped back and looked at her in a puzzled way. Then he followed the line laid out by the dressmaker and slid his arm gently around under her armpits. The next evening, still tender and loving, this being the springtime of the year, he again put his arm under his wife’s armpits, but her waist was not there! He scratched his head in a puzzled fashion and felt a moipentary rebuff. But his love is not of the kind that brooks discouragement, and, after a moment's survey of her form divine, he goi down on the floor and put his arm around her ankle, the dress maker having located her waist there in the dress she was then wearing. The following evening Lysander John looked before he attempted to embrace, and found her waist was not at her ankles! It had been moved up to her knees! It was then that he w”- ov rcoim with a sense of the helplessness of man when opposed to the tyranny of fashion, and be bowed his head in anguish and cried aloud. "It used to be so simple a matter." he criec'. beating his hands on his breast, "for a man to pu his arms around the waist of the woman h» loved, but alas! it is a simple matter no longer! “It has become a movable sacra ment of love!” to the iimits of folly not to admit the tremendous value of the broader, and deeper, and franker training which the modern girl receives over that of her prototype of a quarter century ago. It would, be the height of bigot ry not to admit that by her twentieth century education, she has become a clearer thinking, more self-reliant, more useful member of society than her parent was. Yet there are some things missing in the character of the "young person” of to-day which make her elders regret that a modern edu cation could not be absorbed by her without a radical alteration taking place in her character. ^ Our girl’has lost much of the senti mental appeal that belonged to her aunt’s or mother’s girlhood days. J do not mean by sentiment the’mawk ish euperconsciousness of sex which sometimes masquerades under that name and which can not be too soon stamped out as a menace to all that is best in womanhood. But 1 do mean that she has lost much of* her one time ability to call forth the highest and tyest in young mankind by her fresh, untarnished view of the world. : Shrugged His Shoulders. A youth of my acquaintance called | recently rtn a girl with whom he was i much smitten—after the fashion of the male young of the species. The girl war college-bred and had the sophistication of her type. The young man was fond of reading, and th. tali; drifted into literature. The girl advanced her own theories concerning Brieux and other < onstructive Euro pean writers with absolute frankness, and before the evening ended had i aired all her ideas and opinions on the white slave question. When the young man mentioned the conversation to' me my face must have betrayed soma surprise, for lie shrugged his shoul ders and laughed a little bitterly. "Girls have changed since your day, I guess.” he remarked—"more’s the pity!” They have changed since that day. They have changed for the better in many things. To a person with en tirely modern views they may have improved in all things. Yet it seems a pity that in her intellectual advance our girl should have failed to retain much of the grace and sweetness that served as an inspiration to the m n w ho were youths 20 and 30 years ago. The Exchange. In the course of her evolution the “young- person” of to-day has ex changed innocence of thought for cons?iousness of morality. She no longer has manners—she has Man ner. She had transformed what was once poise into Pose. Yet the characteristics which some of us are so narrow' as to deplore are doubtless only indications of the ad vance in the evolution of a woman far broader and better than her predeces sors were. Yet. as old-fashioned folk, some of us recall the girls we knew when we were young, and sigh—but very softly. lest the Young Person of To-day should hear—and censure—us. No Fail for Recipe. She—I sent a dollar to a young woman for a recipe to make me look young.” "What did you get?” * “A card saying. ’Always associate with women twenty years older than yourself.” ■ ■■■ Sweet for YOU The sweet for you is Velva Syrup in- the red can. It is never equalled on griddle cakes, waffles, muffins or bis cuits. Besides, you can make so many other sw eets with it—candies, cakes and fudge, dainty desserts and sugarplums. is always sold in clean, sanitary cans— never from barrels or casks. It is made for particular folk—for you. Buy it to Wy and you'll buy it again. You can get Velva in the green can from your grocer if you prefer it. Ten cents up, according to size. Send for the book of Velva recipes. No charge. PENICK & FORD, Ltd. New Orleans. La. CHOCOLATE TAFFY 1 -2 cupful Red Velva Syrup, 1 cupful sugar. J-2 cupful milk, j-2 cupful butter, 1-4 pound bitter• chocolate, k l-2 teaspoonfuls almond extract. t Syrup into a pan. add chocolate, butter, milk and sugar; boil steadily 20 minutes, stirring now and then. Add extract, pour into a buttered tin.