Newspaper Page Text
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IK
Some Dont’s for
Young Girls
By BEATRICE FAIRFAX.
D
OX’T paint the roie. Don't use
rouge or powder when under
30; after that age there la hope
you'will have too much sense o
•aredd.
DmfVbe continually using your
.lands' tp brush your hair bacjc or
brush it forward, to readjust your hat,
M rub your forehead, to feel of your
o lar. to play with your necklace, o
button and Unbutton your gloves, or
n any of the cpuntless ways a girl
, nploys them ,'that prove she ran’t
u, t her niii^d off herself
Don’t, laugh in a manner indicating
that your ideA of a good time is just
noise. Leave that method of mirth to
b<*y s under ten.
Don't take, five minutes for reposi
ng a joke that.should, be told In half
> minute*, and expect it to be funny.
Don't mark a favorite quotation in a
£nnk. It is an untidy habit, and
*erve« only Ihe purpose of projecting
v. uir personality before the mental
vision of the next one who reads, to
his confusion and annoyance.
Don’t preface ypur remarks with
'As Horner says." "According fo E n-
erson.’- etc. It is both priggish and
stilted-. ,. :: i '
Don't look with a superior air at
tnose who neither have read nor heard
of the books published yesterday. Tn
Liest books are not the best, and so
many are worthless that it is a sign of
heap intellect to find satisfaction
n them, when so many old and good
books lie unread on the shelves.
Don't be humble before fine raiment
mrl scornful before raiment that is
p a n. This is the first and last proof
»f the snob.
Don't overestimate the strength of a
friend, nor underestimate the pow> r I
.of an enemy.
Don’t repeal a compliment paid you I
to anyone on earth but your mother, j
Don't think (hat excessive polite- |
ness wften a gu.est in the home of a
friend gives you the privilege- of crl -
ioisVrtg your entertainment after it is
over.
Don't talk sickness. The most d-ead-
y bores in the world aie those who
'inger on the memory of aches, pains
*nd operations, and the longer they
inger the less likely are they bo get
/veil. •
i -•
Don’t flirt. It makes your own sex
mistrust you, and leads men to re
gard you as one who could easily be
led astray. .
Don’t squander your money. Take
pride in the thought that so far as
vou can prevent you will never be a
hirden to others.'
f>9B't sporn : the profit to, b.e .gained
• v another's experience. You know
those who are younger could learn
from you. Can you.not see you could
learn from those who are older?
What He Needed.
First Office Boy* 1 told the gov
ernor to look at the dark circles un
der my eyes and see if 1 didn't need a
half-day off."
Second 'Office Boy What did he
sa y ? .
First Office Boy He said I needed
h bar of soap.
MAGAZINE
1 he Magnet s
Irresistible Alike to the “Fresh"—
the Vagrant—the Blase Fancy!
BY NF.I.I. BRINKLEY
Copyright, ]013, International News Serriow
He Knew.
In ilic fairy story the teacher w is
lelling: her hoys of the woes of the
beautiful damsel."
What is a damsel, hoys.’ she
asked, and the bright lad replied:
A small plum, miss."
WOMAN GOULD
NOT WALK
She Was So Ill- Restored
to Health by Lydia E.
« Pinkham’s Vegetable
Compound.
r-entwater. Mich.—’’A year ago I
*as very weak and the doctor said I
had a serious
displace m e n t. T
had backache and
bearing down
pains so bad that
I could not 'sit in
'a : chair or walk
across' the floor
and I teas' in se
vere- pain ail the
• time. I felt dis
couraged, as I
had taken every
thing 1 could
IjHI J think of and was
_ 1 no better. I be-
£an taking Lydia E. Pinkham’s Veg-
-table Compound and now 1 am
strong and healthv.”—MHS. ALICE
DARLING, R. F. D. No. 2, Box 77.
bent water, Midi.
Read What Another Woman Says.
Peoria. Ill.—“I had such backaches
hat I could hardly stand on my feet,
i Uduld feel like crying out lots of
times, and had such a heavy feeling
tn mv right side. I had such terri
ble dull headaches every day. and
: hey would make me feel so drows;
and sleepy all the time, yet I could
hot sleep at night.
’ After I had taken, Lydia K. Pink-
lam.’s Vegetable Compound for a
week 1 began to improve. My back-
tehe was less and that heavy teei
ng in my ’side went away. I con
tinued to take the Compound and am
cared. . ,
'‘You may publish this if you wish.
MISS CLARA I. GAUW1TZ. R. R
■ 4. Box 62, Peoria. Ill.
Such letters prove the value of l.y-
•dia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable ( ’om-
iiouptl for woman's ills. Why don I
>ou try it? ...
J UST a bit of a failing it is—our most beloved weakness—
to stop and smile at a baby’s face. Crabbed, life-worn
old man—his shuffling feet waver and halt and a smile
crinkles his winter-face. Heavy, shiny old lady, her mind lost
these many years in dulled things of memory and the aches of
present “ rheumatics”-^he glows down upon the bit of pink
life with a ghost of her old girlish beauty on her broad face.
The handsome wretch of a young chap with nothing on his
mind but a smart, soft hat and the fact that it is good to live in
the SDring-time—he slows his lively feet long enough to flash
down an admiring grin, mutter “Keen little beggar,” and go
off with an odd stirring in his mind of a latent dream.
The chic little peach of a girl with a dream of a chapeau
atop her curls, a hint of rouge on her cheekbones, taking her
abbreviated little steps in tight swathed silk, stops dead, digs
her smooth white fists in her hips and stays a very long time—
her mouth curved in sudden sweetness—a brooding under
standing in her eyes, lost in what is probably her first uncon
scious pose that day.
A slim aristocrat, airinar her tov-doar. lingers with orettv
dragging feet, her face a mixture of half-delight, half-envy—
and all sadness. I imagined I caught the glimmer of tears in
her fine eyes—but then I have a lively imagination—maybe it
was the sun—or I WANTED to see them there. And up at the
top of the curving park walk—the big blue “cop” beams
down at the little mother and the slow-moving white baby
carriage.
He cannot see that far what ’s in it, but he knows it’s the
keenest thing ever and his heart pulls that way all by itself!
Just a beloved weakness of ours—to show our naked souls in
our eyes—to slow our busy feet—to smile—when we see a
habv’a face.
By WILLIAM F KIRK.
U T OOTto
I ernoon,
goto a dentist this aft-
said the Manicure
Lady, "and, honest to goodness,
George, I’d just as soon get shot at.
sunrise. I would even a little rather
get shot at sunrise, because I think 1
could die kind of brave, with my face
to the leveled guns, but every time 1
think about this afternoon 1 get chills
and fever, and might just as well
admit that I am a plain coward.”
“Lots of brave people loses their
nerve when they go t<> a dentist." said
th** Head Barber. "But I don’t blame
them any, because it sure is torture,”
he added encouragingly.
“I never had no teeth filled before,”
said the Manicure Lady. "That was
one thing for which all of my ad
mirers always admired me for. My
teeth has been called everything by
my admirers, from pearls strung to
gether to dainty bits of purest ivory.
Being that the teeth is part of the
skull, 1 never cared much for that
ivory expression, but the fellows that
said that always meant well, any
how.
“Well, just us I am beginning to
get all swelled up and think that
nothing is ever going to happen to
tny teeth, they, begin to ache some
thing fierce.. At first 1 think it comes
from drinking too much ice water,
and for a few days 1 stayed away
from ice water as careful as father
does. The old gent thought the same
about it as I did. saying that ice wa
ter was never made for no mortal to
drink, and that any water at all had
Its limitations except to cook and
wash with, but the teeth didn't seem
to notice that I wasn't ice watering.
They kept on aching fiercer and
fiercer, like the heart of a Bertha
Clay heroine after she has fell off the
limited train of love.
Eating Too Much.
“Then 1 figured it must be that I
was eating too much sweet stuff, so
1 laid off on the sweet stuff and ate
as many pickles as a shopgirl. It
wasn’t no use, Geprge. Them teeth
just kept on aching, and sometimes
In the night I suffered so that 1
wished I could die. I guess if a rainy
night had came then I would have
done the old German farmer act at
that, but i always figured that sui
cide is kind pf cowardly, and. besides,
I didn’t have the nerve.”
"What did you try next?" asked
the Head Barber.
“Oh, after them teeth didn’t show
no signs at all of letting up. I went
to a dentist as a kind of last resort.
The dentist must have been a son of
some old prospector, because he be
gan picking around my teeth and I
guess he must have sunk a dozen
shafts or so before he finally told me
that I had two perfect^ good teeth
without no cavity in them He 3aid
that the rest of them, outside of the
fact that they looked like human
teeth all right, was on the fritz. He
said 1 would have to have about five
or six weeks’ work done on them "
“That’s the bunk." said the Head
Barber. "He could easy fix them up
1n one afternoon if he wanted t<», and
it wouldn’t cost you over a ten spot.
Ten dollars for half a day ought ,to
be good enough for a dentist, if a
barber has to work hard about three
days for that much."
One Awful Pain.
“Well. I’m sure I don't know what
he is going to soak me,” said the
Manicure Lady, “but that ain’t what's
bothering me. It’s the thought of
the awful pain I’ve got coming to
me. I suppose it will be as bad as
that Spanish Requisition, where they
used, to stay ayvuke nights thinking
of new ways to make their victims
squeak '.Gee, 1 wish Joe Blow or
somebody would call me up and ask
me to. go motoring for a good excuse
to break iny dentist date, bu the
bookmakers ain’t got no autos no
more since them good old racing days
Is gone. Gee, George, can’t you hear
them teeth aching?"
A Powerful Story of Ad
venture, Intrigue and Love
LAW
By MARVIN DANA, from the
Play of BERNARD VEILLER
Copyright. 1913. by the H. K. Fly Com-
pan>. The play “Within the Law” is
copyrighted by Mr. Veiller and this
novelization of it is published by his
permission. The American Play Com
pany is the sole proprietor of the ex
clusive rights of the representation
and performance of “Within the law"
in all languages.
By MARVIN DANA from the
Play by BAYARD VEILLER,
TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT.
.Mary disregarded the frivolous in
terruption, and went on speaking to
the girl, and now there was some
thing pleasantly cajoling in her man
ner.
“Suppose I should stake you for
the present, and get you in with a
good crowd. All you would have to
do would be to answer advertisements
for servant girls. I will see that you
have the best of references. Then,
when you get in with the right peo
ple, you will open the front door some
night and let in the gang. Of
course, you will make a getaway
when they do, and get your bit as
well.”
There flashed still another of the
swift, sly glances, and the lips of the
girl parted as If she would speak.
But she did not; only, her head
sagged even lower on her breast, and
the shrunken form grew yet more
shrunken. Man', watching closely,
saw these signs, and in the same in
stant a change came over her. Where
before there had been an underlying
suggestion of hardness, there was
now a womanly warmth of genuine
sympathy.
“It doesn’t suit you?” she said, very
softly. “Good! i was in hopes it
wouldn’t. So, here’s another plan.’’
Her voice had become very winning.
"Suppose you could go West—some
place where you would have a fair
chance, with money enough so you
could live like a human being till you
got a start?”
There came a tensing of the re
laxed form, and the head lifted a lit
tle so that the girl could look at her
questioner. And. this time, the
glance, though of the briefest, was
less furtive.
•*I will give you that chance,” Mary
said simply, “if you really want it.”
That speech was like a current of
strength to the wretched girl. She
sat suddenly erect, and her words
came eagerly.
“Oh, I do." And now her hungry
gaze remained fast on the face of the
woman who offered her salvation.
Mary sprang up and moved a step
toward the girl, who continued to
stare at her, fascinated. She was now
all wholesome. The memory of her
own wrongs surged in her during this
moment only to make her more ap
preciative of. the blessedness over
this waif for whom she might prove
a beneficent providence. There was
profound conviction in the emphasis
with which she spoke her warning.
“Then 1 have Just one thing to say
to you first. If you are going to live
straight, start straight, and then go
through with it. Do you know what
that means?"
“You mean, keep straight all the
time?" The girl spoke with a force
drawn from the other’s strength.
“I mean more than that," Mary
went on earnestly. “I mean, forget
that you were ever in prison. I don't
know what you have done—1 don’t
think I care. But whatever it was,
you have paid for it—a pretty big
price, too." Into these last words
there crapt the pathos of one who
knew. The sympathy of it stirred the
listener to fearful memories.
“I have, I have!" The thin voice
broke, wailing
“Yes, I Promise.”
“Well, then." Mary went on. “just
begin all over again, and be sure you
stand up for your rights. Don’t let
them make you pay a second time. Go
where no one knows you, and don’t
tell the first people who are kind to
you that you have been crooked. If
they think you are straight, why, be
It. Then nobody will have any right
to complain." Her tone grew sud
denly pleading. “Will you promise
me this?”
‘‘Yes, I promise,” carae the answer,
very gravely, quickened with hope.
“Good!" Mary exclaimed, with a
kmile of approval. “Wait a minute,"
she added, and left the room.
“Huh! Pretty soft for some peo
ple," Aggie remarked to Garson with
a sniff. She felt no aJarra lest she
wound the sensibilities of the girl.
She herself had never let delicacy in
terfere between herself and money. It
was really stranger that the forger,
who possessed a more sympathetic
nature, did not scruple to speak an
assent openly. Somehow, he felt an
inexplicable prejudice ag? in»t this ab
ject recipient of Mary’s bounty,
though not for the world would he
have checked the generous impulse on
SYNOPSIS.
Mary Turner, an orphan, employed
in Edward Gilder's department store,
is accused of theft and sent to prison,
though innocent. Aggie Lynch, a
convict friend of Mary’s at Burn
sing, sees good “possibilities" for her
in the world of crime. Upon Mary’s
release she is continually hounded
and in desperation throws herself
into the North River. Joe Garson, a
forger, rescues her and keeps her
and Aggie in luxury, though living
chaste lives. Mary becomes the lead
er of a band of swindlers, robbing
only the unscrupulous and keeping
always “within the law.’’ Gilder’s
Bon Dick meets and loves Mary, who
seeks to wreak vengeance on the
father through the son. A girl who
has been in prison hears or Mary’s
charitable, disposition, calls nn her
and faints from want of nourishment.
Now Gk> on With the Story
the part of the woman he so revered.
It was his instinct on her behalf that
made him now vaguely uneasy, as if
he sensed some malign influence
against her there present with them.
Mary returned soon. In her hand
she carried a roll of bills. She went
to the girl and held out the money.
Her voice was business-like now, but
very kind.
“Take this, it will pay your car
fare West, and keep you quite a while
if you are careful.”
But, without warning, a revulsion
seized on the girl. Of a sudden, she
shrank again and turned her head
away and her body trembled.
“I can’t take it,” she stammered. “I
can’t! I can’.’t”
Mary stood silent for a moment
from sheer amazement over the
change. When she spoke her voice
had hardened a HttVe. It Is not agree
able to have one’s beneficence flouted.
“Didn't you com* here for help?"
she demanded.
“Yes,” was the faltering reply, “but
—but—I didn’t know—it was you!”
The words came with a rush of des
peration.
“Then you have met me before?”
Mary said, quietly.
“No, no!” The girl’s voice rose
shrill.
Aggie spoke her mind with com
mendable frankness.
"She’s lying.”
And, once again. Garson agreed
His yes was spoken in a tone of
complete certainty. That Mary, too,
was of their opinion was shown in
her next words.
“So, you have met me " before?
Where?"
The girl unwittingly made confes
sion in her halting words.
“I—I can’t tell you." There was
despair in her voice.
"You must.” Mary spoke with se
verity. She felt that this mystery
held In it something sinister to her
self. “You must,” she repeated Im
periously.
The girl only crouched lower.
“I can’t!” she cried again. She
was panting as if in exhaustion.
“Why can’t you?” Mary insisted.
She had no sympathy now for the
girl’s distress, merely a great sus
picious curiosity.
"Because—'because—” The girl
could not go on.
Mary’s usual shrewdness came to
her aid and she put her next ques
tion in a different direction.
"What were you sent up for?” she
asked briskly. “Tell me.”
It was Garson who broke the si
lence that followed.
“Come on, now!” he ordered. There
wae a savage note in his voice under
which the girl visibly winced. Mary-
made a gesture toward him that be
should not interfere. Nevertheless
the man’s command had In it a threat
which the girl could not resist and
she answered, though with a reluct
ance that made the words seem
dragged from her by some outside
fore**—at indeed they were.
"For stealing "
"Stealing what?” Mary asked.
"Goods ”
“When* from?”
“You Aral You Arel”
A reply came In a breath low
that it was barely audible.
"Tho Emporium.”
In a flash of intuition the whole
truth was revealed to the woman who
stood looking down at the cowering
creature before her.
"The Emporium!” she repeated.
There was a tragedy in the single
word. Her voice grew cold with hate,
the hate born of innocence long tor
tured. “Then you are the one who—”
The accusation was cut short by
the girl's shriek.
"I am not! I am not, I tell you.
For a moment Mary lost her poise
Her voice roes in a flare of rage
“You are! You are!"
The craven spirit of the girl could
struggle no more. She could only sit
in a huddled, shaking heap of dread
The woman before her had been dis
ciplined by sorrow to sternest self-
control. Though racked by emotion>
most intolerable, Mary soon mastered
their expression to such in extent
that when she spoke again, as if in
self-communion, her words came
quietly, yet w-ith overtones of a su
preme woe.
“She did it!" Then, afer a little,
ehe addresHed the girl with a certain
wondering before this mystery of
horror. "Why did you throw- the
blame on me?"
Broken With Fear.
The girl made several efforis be
fore her mumbling became intelligible,
and then her speech was gasping,
broken with fear.
"I found out they were watching
me, and I was afraid they would catch
me. Ho, I took them and ran into
the cloak room, and put them in a
locker that wasn't close to mine, an 3
some in the pocket of a coat that uuis
hanging there. God knows 1 didn't
know' whose it was. I just put them
there—I was frightened—”
"And you let me go to prison fo**
three years!" There was a menace in
Mary’s voice under which the girl
cringed again.
"I was scared,” she w hined. "I didn't
dare to tell.”
“But they caught you later.' Mary
went on. inexorably. "Why didn't you
tell then?”
"T was afraid," came the answer
from the shuddering girt. "I toid them
it was the first time I had taken any
thing and they let me off with i
year."
Once more the wrath of the victim
flamed high.
“You!" Mary cried. "You cried and
lied and they let you off with a year.
I wouldn't cry. I told the truth —
and—” Her voice broke in a tearless
sob. The color had gone out of her
fere, and she stood rigid, looking
flown at the girl whose crime had
ruined her life with an expression of
infinite loathing in her eyes. Garson
rope from his chair as if to go to her.
and his gaze w-ent from the woman
he had saved from the river to th
gtrl who had been the first cause »f
her seeking a grave in the water-
Yet. though he longed with every fiber
of him to comfort the stricken wom
an, he did not dare intrude upon her
in this time of her anguish, but quiet,
ly dropped back into his seat and sat
watching with eyes now tender, now
baleful, as they shifted their direeiio i
To Be Continued To-morrow.
Strengthening Food for Hard Workers
It isn’t necessary to eat a lot of meat to nourish and
sustain your body. It is a positive fact—ask your
doctor—that there is more real nutrition in a 5c pack
age of Faust Macaroni than in 2 lbs. of beef at 12 times
that price. ‘ You get more nutrition—better
eating—cheaper living when you eat
MACARONI
Made from Durum wheat, a cereal
extremely rich m gluten—a bone,
muscle and flesh builder. Put up
in air-tight, moisture-proof
package—write for free
recipe book showing
how many delicious
ways there are
for serving Faust
Macaroni.
At all groccrn
Sc and 10c
packageB.
MAULL BROS.
St. LNik,
Mo.