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4 n Some Dont’s Young Girl for s Thp MnOtIPt * * Irresistible Alike to the “Fresh”- ^ ^BY NELL BRINKLEY 1 fit the Vagrant—the Blase Fancy! ^ .» 13 . ^*,6 The Manicure 1 anv ljuu y By BEATRICE FAIRFAX. D ON’T paint the rose. Don’t use rouge or powder when under 30; after that age there la hope that you will have too much sense to care to. Don't be continually using your hands to brush your hair back or brush it forward, to readjust your hat, to rub your forehead, to feel of your collar, to play with your necklace, :o button and unbutton your gloves, or m any of the countless ways a girl employs them that prove she can’t get tier mind 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 boys under ten. • Don’t take five minutes for repeat ing a joke that should be told in half a minute, and expect it to be funny. Don’t mark a favorite quotation in a book. It ■ is an untidy habit, and serves only the purpose of projecting your personality before the mental vision of the next one who reads, to his confusion and annoyance. Don’t preface your remarks with “As Homer says,” “According to E n- erson,” etc. It is both priggish and stilted. Don't look with a superior air at those who neither have read nor heard of the books published yesterday. Tnt- latest books are not the best, and so many are worthless that It is a sign of a cheap intellect to f\nd satisfaction In them, when so many old and good hooks lie unread on the shelves. Don’t be humble before fine raiment and scornful before raiment that is plain. This is the first and last proof of the snob. Don’t overestimate the strength of a frierid, nor underestimate the pow* r of an enemy. Don’t repeat a compliment paid you to anyone on earth but your mother. Don't think that excessive polite- hess when a guest in the home of a friend gives you the privilege of crit icising your entertainment after it is over. Don t talk sickness. The most dead ly bores in the world are those who linger on the memory of aches, pains an<l operations, and the longer they linger the less likely are they to get well. 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 you can prevent you will never be a burden to others. Don't scorn the profit to be gained by another’s experience. You know those who are younger could learn from you. Can you not see you could Team from those who are older? What He Needed. First Office Boy—£ told the gov ernor to look at the dark circles un der my eyes and see if I didn’t need a naif-day off." Second Office Boy -What did he sav ? First Office Boy He said I needed a bar of soap. He Knew. In the fairy story the teacher w is dling her hoys of the woes of the beautiful damsel.” “What is a damsel, boys'.'" she sked, and the bright lad replied: "A small plum, miss." WOMAN COULD NOT WALK She Was So Ill—Restored to Health by Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound. (Pentwater, Mich.—"A year ago I was very weak and the doctor said I had a serious displace ment. I had backache and bearing down pains so bad that I could not sit ,in ■a chair or walk across the floor and I was in se vere pain all the time. • I felt dis couraged, as I had taken every thing I could think of and was no better. I be gan taking Lydia E. Pinkham’s Veg etable Compound and now I am strong and healthy.” — MRS. ALICE DARLING, R. F. D. No. .2, Box 77. Pentwatcr, Mien. Read What Another Woman Says. Peoria, Ill.—“I had such backaches that'7 could hardly stand on my feet. I would feel like crying out lots of titties, and had such a heavy feeling in my right side. I had such terri ble dull headaches every day, and t.hty would make me feel so drowsy „nd sleepy all the time, yet I could not sleep at night. ■ “ter I had taken Lydia E. Pink- nam’s Vegetable < 'ompound for a week I began to improve. My back- ache was less and that heavy feel ing in my side went away. I con tinued to take the Compound and am cured. •You may publish this If you wish.' —MISS (’LARA L. GAP WITZ. R. R. No. 1. Box 62. Peoria. Ill. Such letters prove the value of Ly dia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Com pound for woman's ills. Why don’t you try it 7 “I J I T ST 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”—she 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, airing her tov-dosr. lingers with Dretty 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 babv’s face. By WILLIAM F. KIRK. GOT to go to a dentist this aft ernoon,” said the Manicure Daily, “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 thinle 1 could die kind of brave, with my face to the leveled guns, but every time I think about this afternoon I get chills and fever, and might just as well admit that I ara a plain coward.” “Lots of brave people loses their nerve when they go to a dentist,” said the 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 I^ady. “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, I never cared much for that ivory' expression, but the fellows that said that always meant well, any how. “Well, just as I am beginning to get all swelled up and think that nothing is ever going to happen to my teeth, they begin to ache some thing fierce. At first I think It comes from drinking too much ice water, and for a few days I 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 w*ater 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 < ’lay heroine after she has fell off the limited train of love. Eating Too Much. , “Then I figured it must be that I was eating too much sweet stuff, so I laid off on the sweet stuff and ate as many pickles as a shopgirl. It wasn’t no use, George. Them teeth just kept on aching, and sometimes in the night I suffered so that T 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 of 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 perfectly good teeth without no cavity* in them. He said that the rest of them, outside of the fact that they looked like human teeth all right, was on the fritz. He suid I would have to have about five or six weeks’ work done on them.” “That’s the bunk.” said the Head Barber. “He couldeasy fix them up In one afternoon if he wanted to, 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," saiu the Manicure Lady, “but that ain’t what’s bothering me. It’s the thought of the aw’ful pain I’ve got coming to me. I suppose it will be as bad as that Spanish Requisition, where they used to stay awake nights thinking of new ways to make their victims squeal. Gee, I wish Joe Blow* or somebody would call me up and ask me to go motoring for a good excuse to break my dentist date, but the bookmakers ain’t got no autos no. more since them good old racing day*s Is gone. Gee, George, can’t you hear them teeth aching?” A Powerful Story of Ad venture, Intrigue andLove WITHIN THE LAW By MARVIN DANA, from the Play of BERNARD VEILLER Copyright, 191.?. by the H. K. Fly Com pany. 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 I-*aw” 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 w r ith 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. Mary, 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 w*ould 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 giri could look at her questioner. And, this time, the glance, though of the briefest, was less furtive. “T 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 I 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—I don’t think I care. But whatever it was, you have paid for it—a pretty big price, too.” Info these last words there crept the pathos of one who knew. The sympathy of it stirred the listener to fearful memqjrtes. “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 nrst 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,” came the answer, very gravely, quickened with hope. “Good!” Mary exclaimed, with a smile of approval. “Walt a minute,” she ridded, and left the room. “Huh! Pretty soft for some peo ple,” Aggie remarked to Garson with a sniff. She felt no alarm 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 against 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 “possibilJVt.s for her in the world of crim'\ Upon Mary’s release she is con Inually hounded and in desperation throw’s herself into the North River. Joe Garson. a forger, rescues her and keeps her and Aggie in luxuryj 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 son Dick meets and loves Mary, who seeks to wreak vengeance on the father through the son. A girl who ; has been in prison hears of Mary’s charitable disposition, calls on her and faints from want of nourishment. Now Go 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 w hile. 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 little. It i« not agree able to have one's benefloence flouted. “Didn’t you come 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 rnind 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 ne- verlty. 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 wap a savage note in his voice under which the girl visibly winced. Mary made a gesture toward him that he 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 force—as indeed they were. “For stealing.” “Stealing what?” Mary asked. “Goods.” “Where from?” “You Are! You Are!’’ A reply came in a breath so low that it was barely audible. “The 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 emotions 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 with overtones of a su preme woe. “She did It!’’ Then, afer a little, f»he addressed 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 efforts be fore her mumbling became intelligible, and then her speech was gasping, broken w*ith fear. “I found out they were watching me, and I was afraid they wmuld catch me. So, I took them and ran Into the cloak room, and put them in <i locker that w*asn’t close to mine, and some in the pocket of a coat that was hanging there. God knows I didn't know* whose it was. I Just put them there—I was frightened—’’ "And you lot me go to prison for three years!” There was a menace in Mary's voice under which the girl cringed again. “I was scared,” she whined. "I didn't dare to tell.” “But they caught you later,” Mary went on, Inexorably. “Why didn’t you tell then?” “I was afraid,” came the answer from the shuddering girl. “I told them It was the first time I had taken any thing and they let me off with a 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 face, and she stood rigid, looking down at. the girl whose crime had ruined her life with an expression of infinite loathing in her eyes. Garson rose from his chair as if to go to her, and his gaze went from the woman he had saved from the river to the girl who had been the first cause of her seeking a grave in the waters. Yet. though he longed with every fiber of him to comfort the stricken wom an. he did not dare intrude upon he 1 in this time of her anguish, but quiet ly dropped back into his seat and sat watching with eyes now’ tender, now baleful, as the}* shifted their directio n To Be Continued To-mc^r v. 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 in 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 grocera Sc and 10c packagea. MAUL! BROS. St. Louis, Mo. k 1