Newspaper Page Text
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4
By WILLIAM F. KIRK.
He
HAT muM bi
ing. that nov
ing there,”
Barber. “You
> Home Interoat-
'1 you are rcarl-
remdrkofl the
ain’t had your
A Charming Midsummer Hat
♦ ♦
♦ ♦
REMEMBERING ::
By WILLIAM F. KIRK.
nose out of it all the forrnoon.
"It is a beautiful' story, George. 1
almost erv in some parts of 11, and
ivb.n the laughs come thi^y are sure
preat. I didn't sk.p a line of it. either,
and I have Just finished the last page.
The title of It is Starflower, and it
was wTote by Mrs. Eleanor Shirley
Dewtllcker. And then they say that
women can’t write! Maybe some
women writes stories that is kind of
punk and then gets made fun of by
the critics, but this woman that wrote
•Starflower' is so'me queen of a writ
er. Gee, there la some love passages
that Is sitnihly superfluous and almost
sublimate. 'Starflower' is the name of
the heroine, a little girl that always
lived In the northern part of Pennsyl
vania. She is so pretty and sweet
that she has lovers come from every
where to try to win her hand, hut j
she loves only one, a young man who i
Is doing scientific farming nenr her j
father's home. Of course science is
a groat thing, George, and i suppose
If it helps raise big crops It must help
a man to make love, too. Anyhow, |
she loves him and some day they are
to wed. Just listen to this pari, where
they are engaged:
Very Pathetic.
“ ‘Starflower.' whispered Robert,
placing her little trembling palm In
hie ptmng right hand. 'Little girl, I
am plain and direct in my speech, as
you know 1 can't write poetry for
you, little girl, like the Byron poems
you read to me out in the orchard,
and I ain't no Tennyson, hut 1 am a
man with a man's heart and two will-1
ing hands. I love you!'
“ ‘And I love you, Bob/ murmured
Starflower, bewildered ,bv the won
derful rush of happines- rhnt swept
over her lithe form and suffused her
cheeks with the first flush of girlish
l0 ^‘An oriole flashed brightly through
the crimson sumac and the brook rip
pled along like some soft accompani
ment to the oldest, sweetest story ini
the world.” I
"Gee. George; ain’t that some writ-
Ing?”
"Did he marry her and make a lot
of kale?” asked the practical Head I
Barber.
“No, George,” replied the Manicure,
Lady “That Is the pitiful part of It.
A young bridge builder named Walter
Orr came to the little town where
Btarflower dw r ell. and lie kind of daz
zled her with his flue English and his
wonderful piano playing. He was a
college man, and her Robert aldn t
know nothing about Virgil nr Horace
or Rameses or any of them old-timers.
Orr knew all about tlie \ all. and he
could change his voice until it got as
soft as the rustling of the breeze
through the autumn leaves. When
hi was talking to his men he spoke
kind of commanding, hut when he
spoke to her he always spoke with
the soft pedal. One night, George,
she agreed to run away with him. and
the next morning they were gone.
Just after they eloped Orr got fired
and had to take a position that paid
him about one-quarter as much mon
ey as her former sweetheart made
,-Very week out of his registered milk
ftom his registered cows.
It Sounds All Right.
"When she saw poverty staring her I
In the face she took some kind or it i
powder and they found her still ia!
death with a note to Robert pinned
on her night robe. Wien Robert
heard about it and wdrit so Insane
that he called all his cows Starflow
er."
"It sounds all right," said the Heart
Barber, "but 1 wouldn’t go nuts over
no girl that threw me down!”
By OLIVETTE
A DAINTY little mode! this for wear with the lacy gowns of July
and August. All In pure white, It tones well with the bright
eyes and softly flushed cheeks of midsummer days. Draw folds
of soft chiffon or moussolalne de .^oie 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
finishing in a "pump how" 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.
Sister’s Engagement
TO DAY'S COMPLETE STORY.
William Jennings Bryan once visit
ed Cornell University, and while being
entertained to dinner by a prominent I
member of the legal fraternity he told I
the following story:
“Once out in Nebraska I went to
protest against my real estate assess- j
ment, and one of the things of which j
I particularly complained was assess-
ing a goat at $25. 1 claimed that a
goat was not real property in the le
gal sense of the word, and should not
be assessed. One of the assessors, a
very piea-^ant-faced old man, very)
obligingly said that I could go up
stairs with him. and together we
would look over the rules and regula
tions and see what could be done. We
looked over the rules, and Anally the
old man asked:
“ ‘Does your goat run loose on this
road?’
” 'Well, sometimes,’ said 1, wonder
ing what the penalty was for that
dreadful offense
‘Does he butt?’ again queried th£
old man.
“ Yes.' I answered, ‘he butts.’
“‘Well,’ said the old man, looking
at me, ‘this rule says tax all property
running and abutting on the highway.
I don’t see that 1 can do anything for
vou. Good day. sir.’ ”
T HE daughter of the household, aged
11, looked up from her book as the
man culler came into the library.
“Ilow 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 dresB-
ed and I supposed now she'11 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, hut 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, hut, fhank heaven,
you’re engaged at last!’ And sister
said yes, it was time and she'd have
to make the best of It. Why, she’s
engaged! Don’t you understand?”
'‘You surprise me,” said the caller,
with interest.
Very Exciting.
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
nut things to eat is simply awful and
she wouldn't wear her life away keep
ing down the grocery hills for any man
and 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, hut that seems foolish. Wouldn’t
you know black If you saw It?”
“I used to think I was able to dis
tinguish colors,” admitted the caller.
A Surprise.
Drink-
Maxwell
House
Blend
"The Quality Coffee"
More sold and more
enjoyed than any
other high grade cof
fee in the South.
Sealed cane at froceri
CheekNeal Coffee Co.,
Naskriilc. Housto*. Jack»«oviUt.
The young person nodded her head.
‘‘It’s awfully exciting to have an en
gaged person in the family. We never
had one before. I held my hand over
my' mouth to keep from asking right I
out who it was, hut I know If 1 spoke |
they’d make me go away and then all
they said was that where the trooser
was. coming from if dad didn’t make a
killing goodness only knew. What’s a
trooser?”
“A sort of feminine delirium. I be
lieve." the young man told her.
Wouldn’t you like to read out. loud to
me from your book?”
“Not when I can t^lk,” 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 one with a French gray drawing
room and other things, hut 1 guess Bob
si
•lir
at?’
‘Well, Aunt Clara said to mother that
cog In the wheels must have slipped
mehow, and how did he ever get
ray, and wasn’t it a pity! So I sup-
Bob ■
•lates-
as he
it. I alwa
bought me
lil
his
tc
me, but 1 know!
dog.
"I’m glad it wh
He always call.
patted my he*u
and always < <u|
and sister said
was rich, but s
man who wore
grapefruit with i
gave her the-8b
1 time mother scoh
s off cheap candj
Then I feed it tc
sn't that Siddens man.
i me ‘little one' and
and he had bronchitis
fhed before he spoke,
she didn’t care if he
lie - couldn’t endure a
brown ties and ate
Snap Shots
By, LILLIAN LAUFERTY.
T
T F I could Just remember, when the past is on jterade,
I Some little deed of merit for each big mistake I've made,
The other days, long vanished, would be glad days to recall,
But Memory leans toward wilder scenes—and I can see them all,
If T could just remember, counting back i score of years.
< me act that made a loved one smile—not ten that prompted tears-—
I’d dream the past dreams over and forget the wasted wine,
But 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,
But the past would be an orchard with a thousand songbirds there.
How to Manage a Husband
By DOROTHY DIX.
The Girl With the Monocle
No, This Isn’t English, Y Know; It's the Rage in Paris
T HEY had admired all of the little
bride’s wedding finery, and had
finally drifted over to where
the tea table was set by an open
“window.
“Weil, my dear,” said the woman
in the soft white gown, “I hope you
are going to he 09 happy as the days
are long, and 1 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 expec t to find
everything plain sailing. There are
a good many storms on even the
calmest sea 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, jlp 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 rwjn
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. nut men who were
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 get elected to the
Legislature the very first thing I 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 I 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
I conviction, to eternity, and be loyal
to one she loved to the death Itself,
! and If you pushed her to the wall
I Mhe’d fight until there wasn’t an en
emy left alive, but she would never
! argue a question with you, or say a
thing thpt wmuld hurt your feelings,
or do anything to make the slightest
unpleasantness.
“Well, when the rosy mists of the
honeymoon rolled up and she discov
ered that she was married to a man
who was twin 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.
I She kept everything that was un-
1 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
jiure 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.
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.
Advice to the
Lovelorn
By BEATRICE FAIRFAX.
00 TO AN ARTIST.
rjEAR MISS FAIRFAX:
Not a day that goes by that I
am not told of the wonderfully
beautiful hand I have. Artists
have stopped, me *nd apologized
in the cars and commented on my
beautiful hand. Of course, I paid
no attention to those 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 1
and ask his opinion.
I am sure, however, that there aro
many ways more lucrative and enno
bling by which your hands can earn
you a living. Have you tried them?
DON’T GIVE IT. -<
r)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 we 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 pld 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.
r\EAR MISS FAIRFAX:
“A” said that when a man is
walking with j^wo girl friends he
must walk In the center. “B” said
when a man is walkinw with two
girls he must walk on the outside.
H. N. L. M.
A gentleman should always take the
outside of the walk.
Robbie met a neighbor who was
smoking some fine, fragrant tobacco
sent by his son in America. He took
out his ow r n pipe ostentatiously.
“Hae you a match, Sandy?” he in
quired.
The match w'as forthcoming, but
nothing more.
“I do believe,” said Robbie, “I ha*
left ma tobacco at hame.”
“Then,” said Sandy, after a silence,
“ye mich’ gie me bac^/ ma match/’
“But you're different,” said the young
person. "It isn’t us though you W’ere
one of sister's trailers—that’s what dad
rails ’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 in one particular man.”
“Well," said the caller, “I’ll tell you
a secret. I’m the particular man!"
The young person’s eyes bulged.
“Honest?" she squealed- “Why, I was
never so »ur-r-p-prised in my 1-1-life!
And you never petted the dog once! My,
but you’re quiet!”
I
RECIPE FOR WRITING.
“>HK one way to write is to do it.
Sit down to your typing ma
chine and rattle the keys till a
poem slips out where mere space has
just been. Sounds simple—well, lis
ten; it isn’t; it’s only the way you
should write Do I do It? Well, no.
I'm confessing that it’s not thus my
songs 1 indite. But 1 take up my lit
tle tan Faber, and cudgel my little
gray brain, and 1 cover great sheets
\>f white paper right over and over
again with lead marks of black and
with smudges which mean that I had
to erase Each “1 just dashed off”
chap really drudges. He denies? Then
he’s paid for his "space!”
* * •
ENVOI.
A little work, a little play
To keep us going—and so,
Good-day!
A little 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 that when we die
We reap our sowing! And so—
Good-bye!
-George DuMaurier.
• • •
MAIDEN MUSINGS.
The man girl can influence does
r.ot need it.
Flying Men’s Mascots
CURIOUS SUPERSTITIONS OF AVIATORS.
From Innocence of Thought
By Virginia Terhune Van De Water
ar.d
Men generall* give us what wo OX -
ct of them. Think well of a scamp
am] liis muurai eoio.lt Will make him
ter went’ work to keep on fooling you.
I '
L UCK plays a big part In the life of
an aviator, and for this reason most
airmen are very superstitious. The
majority of aviators carry mascots
when they fly, anil the cleverer the pilot
the more the duck-bringing emblems
he seems to possess. Vedrines, the
crack French flyer, always has a min
iature of the famous picture "Mona
Lisa" fastened to the side of his aero
plane when he starts on a flight. He
carried this picture on his racing mon
oplane recently when he won the cup
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 Biolovouctc, 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
uirval flying circles a lion’s tooth is
con aid of ed 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 that 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
be 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 contiruffes flying. This
belief Is so firmly 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.
But there is a substratum of common
sense running through this belief. The
hot rays of the sun when shining on a
dump ground cause heat eddies in the
air, which 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 in great disfavor amongst
many airmen. And this superstition Is
largely due to the fact that so many
fatal accidents have occurred to airmen
on this date. Last year ten pilots
were killed whilst flying on the thir
teenth of the different months and al
ready this year three airmen have been
killed, two on the thirteenth of Jan
uary and bne 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 warning cries, then
this is regarded as an omen of ill-luck.
But if the animals over which he 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-bringers 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. Both 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.
M UCH hat* 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 lay one’s self
open to the onus of being old-fash
ioned.
It is 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 us
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 us
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.
It would be carrying conservatism
Daysey Mayme
And Her Folks
Got It Regular Then.
Mrs. Subbub: “I 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 “generar’l: “I’m
afraid it’s my fault, mum. 1 got the
wrong package, and gave him bird
seed for brc^kfa.st food.”
By FRANCES L. GARSIDE.
L YSANDER JOHN APPLETON
has an affectionate disposition. 1
Unless her mouth is full of pins i
or hairpins, he never leaves the ;
house without kissing his wife good
bye. «*■
On rare occasions he has given her I
money as he was leaving, and when
in her alacrity to accept it she has
forgotten to kiss him he has been
grievously pained. lie has never 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* fashiori! 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 undej^
his wife’s armpits, but her waist was
not there!
He seratehed his head in a puzzled
fashion and felt a momentary rebuff.
But his love is not of the kind that
brooks discouragement, and, after a
moment’s survey of her form divine,
he got 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 j
up to her knees!
It was then that he was overcome
with a sense of the helplessness of
man when opposed to the tyranny
of fashion, and he bowed his head
in anguish and cried aloud.
“It used to be so simple a matter.”
he cried, beating his hands on his
breast, “for a man to put his arms
around the waist of the woman he
loved, but alas! it is a simple matter I
no longer!
“It has become a movable sacra- .
ment of love!”
to the limits 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 ofc the
“young person” of to-day which make
her elders regret that a modern edu
cation could not tye absorbed by her
without a radical alteration taking
place 1n her character.
Our girl has lost much of the senti
mental appeal that belonged to her
aunt’s or mother’s girlhood days. I
do not mean by sentiment the mawk
ish superconsciousness of sex which
sometimes masquerades under that
name and which can riot be too soon
stamped out as a menace to all that
is best in womanhood. But I do mean
that she has lost much of her one
time ability to call forth the highest
and best in young mankind by her
fresh, untarnished view of the world.
Shrugged His Shoulders.
A youth of my acquaintance called
recently (5n a girl with whom he was
much sjnitten—after the fashion of
the male young of the species. The
girl w'as college-bred and had the
sophistication of her type. The young
man was fond of reading, and the
talk drifted into literature. The girl
advanced her own theories concerning
Brieux and other constructive Euro
pean writers with absolute frankness,
and before the evening ended had
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 he 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 ond sweetness that
served as an inspiration to the men
w'ho were youths 20 and 30 years ago.
The Exchange.
In the course of her evolution tha
"young person” of to-day has ex
changed innocence of thought for
consciousness of morality. She no
longer has manners—she has Man
ner. She had transformed what was
once poise into Pose.
Yet the characteristics which soma
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, les*t 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.”
Here’s
the
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 sweets 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
t*y 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 Velvet Syrup, 1 cupful
sugar, 1-2 cupful milk. 1-2 cupful
butter, 1-4 pound bitter chocolate,
1 1-2 teaspoonfuls almond extract.
l*ut Syrup into a pan, add chocolate,
butter, milk and sugar; boil steadily
20 minutes, stirring now and then.
A dd extract, pour into a buttered tin.