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PUE(E SILI^ GLOVES
When you buy silk
gloves, buy the best.
cost no more but wear best.
The finger tips are double,
and each pair contains a
guarantee ticket which in
sures you satisfaction.
If your dealer cannot supply
you, aend us his name. We
will supply you through him.
Niagara Silk
North Tonawtada,
N«w York
Chicafo San
Boatoa
Francisco
One of the
Samples
By BEATRICE FAIRFAX.
T HE little girl of thin story was
one of the Sample girls, a large
family of which you doubtless
have heard many times. Her baptis
mal name Is immaterial, hut we will
call her Grace, that being just the sort
of name for a girl who was so sweet
and pretty In the beginning.
Site awakened one morning feeling
strangely depressed and Irritable She
hadn't slept Well; the morning had
eomc too soon, a habit it has under
such circumstances, and she crawled
out of bed without her customary
feeling of gratitude for health,
•^strength and a pleasant home.
She dressed quickly and nervously,
her irritation finding vent in the man-
' in which she jerked on one gar-
a . fter another, snapping off a
button here and tearing a rent where
each nm ad c f“Sht in another place,
wrath til!, by tile time she had dress-
ed and was ready for breakfast, it
had burst into full flame
4 Mother always understands, and the
. mother of Grace understood. Indeed
she had been expecting just such n
scene for many days. But she said
nothing knowing among the many
things that are revealed only to
motherhood when silence is best
FT 1 . wa “ moody and snappy to
feirl friends she met on her way
to work, and when she reached the
"“ice ape opened her typewriter desk
with the same resentful hang she had
given the door when she left home,
■"/took her dictation carelessly and
indifferently, mistakes resulted, and
her employer spoke to her so sharply
that when she returned from luncheon
there were traces of tears around her
eyes.
Just the Same.
The afternoon was a duplicate of
the morning, and her manner toward
the girls she met on the way home
was so much wor.se that they formed
little groups on the cars and shunned
her. Not that she cared at rill! If
<jrace had oared, her manner would
have been less reprehensible.
ft made no difference to her, she
argued, looking sullenly out of the
window. She didn't care for them
any way, and she didn’t have any
use for friends, and hoped she never
would have any. She hated every
body; she hated her position down
town; she neared her home with a
growing dislike for every one in it.
She knew just how the family would
look, what they would say and what
there would be for supper; every
familiar detail of the home appeared
in mqpiory as something unbearably
hideous.
' She was tired, she was bored, she
tven, as she opened the door of her
- home; wished she were dead, and the
sullen tones in which she gave a curt
“Yes" to her mother’s cheerful in
quiry of “Is that you, Grace?” bore
out her mother’s mental diagnosis
of her case in the morning.
It is a very good thing for every
one to occasionally take a thought
bath, and had Grace taken one that
day she would have found that the
‘/iult lay not with others, but with
herself. Her temper, her morbidness
and her selfishness all had their ori
gin in overtaxed nerves.
And this thought bath might have
revealed to her that she hadn't over-
foxed her nerves in giving pleasure to
others, but in seeking it for herself.
A Mistaken Thought.
She was confined in an office a’l
ay, and with the blindness of youth
nought that pursuit of pleasure at
night meant rest. The evenings she
spent at' home were devoted to read
ing highly seasoned fiction till a late
.■hour instead of good, wholesome
books till a reasonable hour and then
gping to bed. Or she invited in a few
friepds who came at 9 instead of at 3,
and stayed till midnight instead of till
JO, and she* made fudge and filled her
stomach with all that is unholy.
Sometimes ?he went to a dance and
stayed till 2, because she was too
young to know 12 was late enough,
aixd on. other occasions she went to a
theater and tortured her stomach wi h
a supper at midnight.
She was paying the penalty fo
overtaxing her strength. She was
burning the candle at both ends, an
illumination that is the funeral py \
of the grace, the charm, the strengt :
the freshness of youth.
Are you, my dear, like Grace? r*
you one of the Sample girls?
Use Cottolent
for cooking
m
Conjugal
Spats :
When you shorten or fry your
food with butter it is needless
extravagance. Butter is too ex
pensive lor use anywhere but
on your table. If butter were
\yially better, would produce
Better results in cooking, you
would be justified in using it,
but it won’t. Cottolene is fully
the equal of butter for shorten
ing; it is better for frying. It
makes food rich, but not greasy,
because it heats to. a higher tem
perature than lard or butter,
and cooks so quickly that the
fat has no chance to “soak in.”
Cottolene is more healthful than
lard, and you only need to use
/A’o-thirds as much as you
would of either butter or lard.
When you
stop to consider
that the price
of Cottolene Is
no more than
the price of
lard you can
readily figure
out what a sav-
■vj; its use !u
your kitchen
means.
THEN.K FAIKBANR COMPANY
Presently There Entered a Girl Who Looked Like a Princess.
ent for all of nWhe turned; to hrs
mother with a bow and added: “Rar-
onees!
Tile men started forward in their
chairs and stared at his.
■'Baroness,'’ lie went on in a loud
tone, ''I have the honor to hand you
a patent of nobility -from, the Dfrrin-
eery of State in vwi*n»u*~which radars
its all- to the rank of baron. 1 <-
The old frau took the paper with
trembling fingers, entirely silicon -
scioua’of what sae was doing. A dead
silence followed the announcement,
then 1t was broken by an expkt-
lion my word R’
"(Ihildren, children." faltered t|je
old woman. "I can not See-clearly—
read it for thee-one of you.”
“I Must Laugh.”
Nathan sprang, up and took the pa
per.
“Yes,” he said, solemnly, while Carl
peered over his shofilder and Amschel
stared stupidly, “the Emperor has be
stowed on us the rank of baron." < !arl
snatched -the paper and Nathan' ho.ld
out his hand to the master of t Vw? gifE.
Solomon, vaii did that .well'," he
said, generously. ‘ ss • v. . . ■ :
“Well, mother, what, have' you'ih
say?" cried oolomon, with a prd’ud
and happy laugh. .
The old lady was almost overcome
by emotion.
“Irfecl'I must laugh! " .she cried, un
certainly. Then suddenly shfe re
gained control of herkolf and her
voice grew grave and^solemn. “I am
very proud—very glad for all your
Bakes. Your clear father would have
been so pleased—only ~yA*u must not
get conceited." «,. »
The paper was -pcehsedinrowitf Mgafcn
and again and thee brothers- nlpppcd
each other on the back and called
each other by title to their hearts’
content. Jacob and Charlotte, alone,
did not seem greatly impressed by ^he
honor done them.
“I am wondering if it really makes
any difference," said, Jacob, slowly,
when htti grandmother chided hjnj.
fliisten to him—the sfiofit child!"
laughed Solomon. Then, he added,
soberly': “No, we are not changed—
but we now have a sign ,of our suc
cess which every one will'recognize.”
It was characteristic of Solomon
that he dismissed his daughter from
the conference before he took up
even the matter of the price of*the
title r
This, it developed, was in the shape
of a loan which would never be re
paid. It^was suggested that each of
the five pay an equal share, but Frau
Gudqla insisted that it be divided into
six shares. “I pay for my own,” she
declared.
“Si\ he it, then," said Solomon.
“There another matter that I want
to ffiscuss with you. You all know
the ypung Duke, of Taunuf—at least
by tfcnutydrojv''
"!$’ -or the- want of it,"
rem ahktp&'fSfari.
“I lykrv bis signature,” said Am-
sche-1 ■grfthly.
“I saw him once as a child—a
handsome, boy," the frau remember
ed.
“He is often in Paris,” contributed
Jacob. “I havd seen him sometimes
—and one often hears of him. He
enjoys life."
“lie |ias been to my house in Vien
na," said Solomon, with a little swell
of pridp.in ,bis tone. “He has charm
ing planners. He was very polite to
Charlotte*.'’
pair feel that they : could say what
'they pieriBed In his presence. They
were unconscious that they were
guilty Jjrjarfr, ..omvqf ..the
rules of hospitality, namely; that.one;
should be kind to the guest under
one’s roof. They Were* truly more uitV
kind to the visitor ikon t<» &aeh otttljf
They were used to their altercations.
He v.as ii"!.
Both Sorry and Vexed.
A certain husband has strict notions
and disapproves of decollete gowns: -
nor does he admiral trainA flift WtCei
Wears Hot hv 1 was present la iff'week
When, in crossing the v foom, he
While Stories
ter my marriage Mrs. Comer and I
had a hard time making,a living, W<*
were trying to buy a little home and
it was a tough Ifght. The- day she
: and I w• nt tri priv the last note- oi
that smrili house was fbe happiest df
my life. I never expect to have an
other like it ’* •■*'* J ' “A
BANK CLERKS. r '
W. J. Burns, the frimr»H< detective,
says that 4n more than twenty,years
of his connection -with .the. .Govern
ment secret service be has not
“turned up” a single counterfeit,
“All . the credit for discovering
counterfeit money.”, hhvs Mr. 'Burns,
’"belongs to the bank clerks of. this
country, There i* not a person, young
or old, who does npt o,u e ^,'>f.
gratitude to the intkTutegabkt Y>ank
clerks,wjio act always ’<)n ; the,ir
and • whose . k$an djs<-orijimoAt ko«ps
our currency clear of counterfeits.”
on her dress. She started angrily.
“Look out!” she exclaimed. “You’re
i&k&ing on my gown! Don’t be so
"cliiptsy! ” '
. , ' Weil" exclaimed her lord and mas
ter X?j, “it, you would take some of
that dress up off the floor and put it
around your shoulders, where It would
do some good, it would be less in the
way of sensible people!”
J tried to look as if I were not un
comfortable, as if I were not listening
land as if 1 were not lots of things
{that I was. For I was wretched and
painfully pipbarrassed. 1 have a fatal
facility for seeing any quarrel from
^standpoint of both contestants,
nqd- in this case I was sorry for the
■woman and for her husband, and at
the same* time vexed with both of
tlifUit Moreover. I felt that they were
lacking, in consideration for me and
in. feelings- in fact, that they were
seTfb-h.
Unhappy Outsiders.
^Selfishness becomes cruelty when
"the outsider is dragged Into a conju
gal spat and the husband or wife ap
peals to her for confirmation or refu
tation Qf some statement which has
caused dispute. What can the un
happy outsider do? If she agreee with
cipher person she “gets In wrong” with
’the diner.. Moreover, she may see
that k botl) are in error .(for was there
ever a quarrel in which either person
was absolutely right (?), but if she
dares to.suggest this both will con
demn Ipy as lacking the courage to
tell the truth or declare herself on the
side.of justice.
£o there she stands, a miserable
victim of a wrangle between married
people—and she not one of them. This
last reflection may bo the one com I or.
slid has. Yet it is rather hard to
suffer for the quarrels of matri
mony when the matrimony has haen
none of one's own making.
He looked keenly at the others as
be spoke, blit there was no answering
gleam to show that they caught the
drift of his thoughts. The old lady
shook her head sadly.
“You are all so grand,” she com
plained.
“He is very deeply in debt,” re
sumed Solomon.
Amschel nodded feelingly. They
say he has more creditors than sub
jects.”
“When he came home after Napo
leon's abduction,’’ went on Solomon,
“he rode through triumphal arches—
to an empty treasury. Perhaps, too,
he has been foolish as well as un
fortunate. Now he is anxious to put
his house in order. He has ap
proached me with regard to a loan.”
A Big Loan Requested.
“For how much?” asked the oldest
brother.
Solomon hesitated, then threw a
quick look about the circle.
“Twelve million florins,’’ he re
plied quietly.
None spoke until Nathan asked, in
his weary manner; “How will he
pay ?”
“I have thought out a scheme of
payments to extend over 40 years.”
“And if the payments are not kept
up?” suggested Carl.
"Solomon waved his hand. “Of
course 1 should insure against that.
I can explain my plan.”
Amschel stared thoughtfully at the
floor. “If he is a spendthrift, as they
say ”
“It is surely too risky—too risky,”
put in Carl, decidedly.
“With a man to whom extrava
gance has become second nature**—
to the
Ad
vice
Lovelorn
“Guarantees must be made that he
changes his habits," insisted Solo
mon.
“How?” inquired the Londoner.
“By his marriage," was the prompt
reply.
“To whom?*’
Solomon again gave each face in
the circle a quick glance. Then he
stepped forward as if inviting the
storm, and said in a cool, steady
voice;
Jacob Sprang Up.
"With my daughter, Charlotte."
Jacob sprang up and gripped the
back of his grandmother’s chair. The
old lady's jaw fairly dropped and she
stared at her son as at a maniac*.
Nathan and Carl merely sat motion-
Iosr and looked. Amschel, the most
truly phlegmatic of all, was first to
speak.
“The Duke of Tnunus marry Char
lotte?" he said with placid scorn.
“It is absurd.’’
Solomon winced slightly.
“I am aware of difficulties,” he
said with grim hardihood.
“If it were possible/’ remarked
Nathan, in his coldest and most dis
passionate tone, “if it were possible,
it would go against us. We would
be thought too ambitious."
Solomon sprang at the word. “We
are ambitious,’’ he cried. “Remember
—w-e are .lews' I am ambitions for
the family. What do you cay?"
He appealed to the others, bat there
was no reply. These sons of an ob
scure German money-lender, greatly
as they had grown, could adjust
themselves to such a possibility on
the spur of the moment. A§ for Ja
cob, his thoughts were in a wild tu
mult. Frau Gudula, for the first time
of her life, sat stunned and speech
less.
"Listen to me!" exclaimed Solo
mon, a flush of impatience on his
dark face. "Thirty years ago the son
of an obscure lawyer came from a
little island of which nobody had ever
heard. He came tb Paris. What did
he do? He took Paris, then France,
then half Europe! Everything is pos
sible to a man who’s made up his
mind!”
He paused, and Amschel spoke
gravely.
“We will think the matter over.”
“I have thought It over,” retorted
Solomon, grimly, thrusting out his
chin. "To-morrow 1* am going to
take Charlotte for a drive—to Neu-
stadt Castle. I should like one of you
to come with me."
“We mast think—we must think it
over "* said Nathan, evasively, as the
appeal seemed directed to hirn. “Carl
Amschel, let u* talk It over."
Little Jacob Is Right.
The other* rose and followed him
sloWdl' toward til* door. Solomon,
frowning- ami biting ijia.Ups. stopped
Jacob -with a gesture.
■'Stay with me, will yob?” he asked.
"Let's play a game of chess. I’m wor
ried—I warn to distract my thoughts."
"Uncle,” said the young man, sol
emnly, “’you have forgotten some
thing. You’ve left one very Impor
tant tiling Out of yodr calculations ”
■*What is that?” demanded his un
cle instantly.
“Charlotte’s happiness—her life's
happiness.” replied the young man,
looking straight Into his eyes. It
seems to me that any girl at her afe
would wish to choose for herself."
“Nonsense!” exclaimed Solomon.
“She likes him. Jacob. He is a charm
eing fellow. She met him and was
r harnn d with him at once. Why
should she not he happy with him?
—because lie is a prince? How ab
surd! Why, she might marry a bank
clerk and be just as miserable! Don’t
you agree with me, mother?”
"No. I don’t!" teas the unexpected
reply, with unexpected violence. The
three brothers halted af the door and
came back a Stop or two.
“Mother!” exclaimed Solomon.
"Little Jacob’s right!” The old
woman rose slowly and faced them.
Her face was pale and her eyes burn
ed with a strange fire. They could
hear her breathing in the stillness.
•’Children, you terrify me.” she
cried, but she did not look terrified—
only stern and Immovable. "My
grandfather came from Neustadt' In
the Tamms, where lie lived tn the
simplest way. And now you—my
sons—declare that my grandchild
shall ride In a coach and he called
a Duchess where he. my grandfather,
was once of such low degree! No! We
live in an age of miracles. You boys,
with your wealth and influence, may
accomplish even this-—but nof with
my consent! It is impossible.”
Khe walked slowly to the door and
turned again. “For the first time in
this old house of ours T withdraw
from a family conference. I’D have
no hand in this affair. Do as you
please—but keep me out of It!”
To Be Continued To-morrow.
By WILLIAM F. KIRK.
P OOR Pa, he got pinched yester
day by a gaim warden. It is
the first time thrit Pa ewer got
arrested, & he felt v«tv bad about It.
He was hanging his hed all the morn
ing at brekfust to-day, & wen he
started for the llttel pojffoffice to see
if thare was any mail for him or Ma
or me. he aed: Deer wife, look long
upon my countenance, for you may
newer see me aggen. I feel as If
sumthlng terribul was going to hap
pen to me aggen to-day.
Oh, 1 doant think so. sed Ma. Sure
ly. after beelng arrested one day Fate
wuddent be so unkind aa to hand you
anything raw the next day. It can
not be. Now, go to the postoffice,
deer, brave man that you are, & see
if you got any checks with extra
money in them, as I need a cuppel of
plain, simpel frocks to ware wile we
an* rustl-kating here in thla butiful
lit tel hamlet.
I doant see what you want of two
plain, simpel frocks, sed Pa, to ware
up here. Why doant you ware sum
of yure old frocks? Your plain, sim
pel frocks will cost as much as the
fancy one you ware in the city. Look
at me & llttel Bobbie, sed Pa. About
all that wo ware up here is a pair of
plain, simpel overalls & aum shoes.
But newer mind, we shall see. Good
bye, deer, & reemember what I tell
you—I have a premoniahun. Then Pa
went.
The way Pa happened to get
pinched was kind of funny after all.
It was a good joak on him, & after he
had paid his fint Ma toald him that It
served him rite for trying to be a boy
comic. It was like this.
How It Was.
Pa & me started out erly in the
morning to catch sum moar trouts.
We went to a llttel stYeam called
Horae Brook, neer Bob Hardie’s farm.
This is a grate morning. Bpbbie, s,?d
Pa; the wind is from the southwest &
thafe Is a sort of haze In the air, al
most as if it was Injun summer. The
condishuns are ideel for trouts to bite,
sed Pa. I anticipate sum rare sport.
We started to fish, & all the fore
noon Pa had all the luck. 1 fished
in sum of the saim places that he
did, but the trouts dicient seem to
care for the worms wich was on my
hook, or else thay was afrade thay
wud drag a littel boy like me into
the water. Anyhow, thay dident bit
for me at all. A ther Pa wild cum
along * throw into ihe saim place
c* catch three or four nice big ones.
Doant be down harted llttel boy,
sed Pa. Much moar expeerieneed
anglers than you are have tried to
x’atcf) fish with me. & in the end l
have forced alt of them to bow thare
beds in shaim & walk slowly away.
Few men Indeed can hope to vie with
me in luring the finny tribe from
thare lair, Pa sed, A: then he kep on
bragging A* catching moar fish.
After a long while I got a grate,
big {rout on my line * 1 was gitting
him out all rite by mlself, but Pa
had to butt in with his landin net t*'
help me wen I dident need any helf
& he knocked the fish off my lip.e.
1 w'as so mad I cud almost sware b><t
I dldent say anything The fish
gone A that was all thare was to It.
He Gets One.
Jest befoar we quit fishing I
caught a littel three inch trout. I
was going to put it back in the
water, but Pa sed Wait a minnit.
Bobble, 1 have a plan. Put the littel
fish in yure littel basket. T will
explain the plan wen we git neer
houm.
Wen we got neer hoam Pa gaiv
me his big basket to carry with all
his big trouts, A he took my littel
basket with the one littel trout In it.
We will walk into the village & to
the hotel this way & I will show the
littel trout to yure mother &. you
show her all the big ones & tell her
that you caught them. That will be
a good joak on her. Pa sed.
Just then a man cairn up to Pa <fc
sed Any luck?
Indifferent, aed Pa, & he kep walk
ing.
Let me look in that basket, he sed
to Pa, & he looked A saw the littel
three inch trout A he sed That will
cost you $25 dollars. No angler is
allowed to keep a trout under six
Inches in lengrth. Why dident you
throw him back in the stream?
1 wanted him to, I toald the man,
hut he sed he wuddent. Look at all
the nice big ones I caught, I sed to
the man, he was a game warden. L
threw all my littel ones back. Pa
looked at me like spanking sounds
Ac feels. But he dident have the $25
with him, so he had to be arrested
till I cud go to the hotel to git it.
Ma made lots of fun of Pa'. She
sed she wud maik him a striped fish
ing sute.
By BEATRICE FAIRFAX.
TAKE THE ONE YOU LOVE.
D ear miss Fairfax;
I am 20 and have been
meeting a young man three years
my senior about two years. He
tells me he loves me very much
and if I would ever meet another
man It would break his heart.
Three months ago 1 fell in love
with another man who wants me
to marry him. \ love him more
than the first man. Do you think
1 am doing right if I marry the
second man, whom l have known
only three months? VIOLET.
You will be doing wrong If you
marry the first man, loving the sec
ond one better. I am sorry for the
first lover, who deserves better re
turns for his devotion, but you must
not marry him loving another man
SEND HIM AWAY.
D ear miss Fairfax;
A young man loved a girl,
but was too bashful to tell her
so. She loved him also, but act
ed very coldly to him. So he
told her chum everything, and
she told the girl, who was de
lighted. As she is coming back
in three weeks, would you ad
vise her to speak to him or send
him a v ay" She loves him very
dearly but Is only 17, while he is
19.
You aj*e both too young—so young
there is every prospect that when the
three weeks are up you both will have
changed your minds.
: Unhappy Outsiders
By Virginia T. Van De Water.
T HIS is a plea for the outsider—
the unfortunate person who
must hear the disagreeable
things that some husbands and wives
say to each other.
I wonder if the man who snub* his
wife or the woman wbn nags her hus
band has the least Idea of how in
tensely uncomfortable each makes the
unwilling listener. Surely the partie?
to a conjugal spat can hardly appre
ciate the sensations of the bystander
who, through no fault of Ms own. !s
compelled to be present during their
petty squabbles.
“It can’t be helped," said a hach-
elor to whom I mentioned this matter,
“and all the efforts at reform won’t
make married people different from
what they are. They will quarrel, so
you may as well reconcile yourself to
that fact.”
I am not disputing his statement—
at least not just now. Whether he is
right or not is, as Kipling would sav,
“another story.” and one with which
we mav deal at some other time. The
matter'against which 1 wish to pro
test at present is not that husband
and wife say disagreeable things to
each other, but that they say them
where others have to hear them. It
is. perhaps, none of my business if
they quarrel when alone; it Is my
business if they quarrel in my pres
ence. But they sometimes do! And
there are many other people who are
forced to he witnesses to many a con-
jusaV interchange of di*courtesies.
Embarrassed Guests.
"You’re late, as usual!”' exclainie i
a man, a» his wife hurried into the
drawing room, where one of the
guests whom she had invited to her
home fpr that evening was already
waiting.
“And you call attention to it, as
usual!” was the sharp retort.
“The fact that I frequently do so
floes not seem to move you to change
the habit,” sneered the husband.
"And so long as you take satisfac
tion in nagging me about it I shal 1
not change it!” the wife snapped back
bitterly.
Is It any wonder that the one guest
wished from the depths of a sinking
heart that he, too, had been late? The
fact that he was an intimate friend of
the host may have made the wedded
Some Worth
NO COMPETITION.
When it comes to bad handwriting,
says the Popular Magazine, the two
men who have beaten all others in
this regard in the entire United States
for the last twenty years are Joaquin
Miller, the poet, and Samuel G. Blythe,
the humorist. And only Blythe sur
vives.
A LIFTED LOAD.
Just after Governor B. B. Comer,
of Alabama, had won his election, fol
lowing a long, hard struggle for the
job, his friends were congratulating
him and one remarked:
“I suppose this i» the happiest day
of your life. Governor."
“No." replied the Governor, who is
said to be worth more than a mil
lion dollars. “I shall never forget
the happiest moment of my- life. l,'ll
tell you about it. For five years af-
Little Bobbie’s
Pa
A Romance oj Great Wealth and the Game
of finance as Played by Money Kings
THE FIVE
A Novelization oj the Successful Play of the
Same Name Now Running in New Yorf
Nathan tilled in the hiatus with a
shake of the head.
What Has Gone Before.
Having backed heavily the peace of |
l-urtipt* Nathan Kolhschihi is discos*
! certed to find that Napoleon has |
! burst forth again, and all the bank
er’s outpouring of gold for national
i development in England will be en-
| dangered. The banker hastens to ‘
! Waterloo. There are the English, i
who have guaranteed to him that the 1
neace of Europe shall be maintained.
I rrorn a height above the field of bat-
| tie Rothschild sees the whole of it. i
Rothschild sees that the wealth of j
the world lies In London, his for the
taking if ne can be first on the |
ground with the news of the hattle. •
He hurries to London, and next
| morning appeared on the Exchange.
! J’hut night he went to bed $10,000
! 000 richer.
Seven years later a great banker
1 left Vienna, another Naples, another j
Paris and another London, and trav
eled to a little old house in dews’
lane, in Prankfort-am-Main. It
was a gathering of the house of !.
: Rothschild. Perhaps some king was
, very hard pressed for money.
Now Go on With the Story.
By KATHRYN KEY.
Copyright, 1913, by the New York liven
ing Journal Publishing Company.
“Do you live tn Paris?” she in
quired.
He nodded. “My business keeps
me there.”
“And you are a friend of famous
composers .
“Shall I introduce myself—for
mally?” he smiled.
The girl held up an imperative
finger. "Wait—I will guess. Are
you little Jacob?”
Little Jacob’s laugh rang through
the house and the girl’s silvery voice
joined in so that Frau Gudula heard
them afar and smiled.
“Now, it is your turn to guess,”
cried the girl, putting up her glow
ing face as if to give him plenty
of opportunity for inspection. Jacob
thought it an excellent opportunity
for a number of things that he had
considered somewhat frivolous up to
this time, but which now assumed
an entirely disproportionate import
ance. He felt unwonted stirrings In
his chest, a phenomenon that he dis
covered to be due to certain remark
able performances on the part of his
heart.
"You don't belong to Frankfort,”
he said with a conviction that was
not complimentary to the staid old
city.
"Well—no,” admitted the girl.
“W T ho—and what—do you think I
am?”
Heard His Grandmother.
The “Who” might have stumped
him, but Jacob felt that he would
tell her with much fervor what she
was—the loveliest and most fascin
ating human being he had even seen.
Hut all he said. w r ith a subdued
thoughtful air. was:
“You might be—an actress?"
The girl clapped her hands and
leaned back.
“How flattering!” she bubbled.
M Or a lady of title," he suggested
hastily. “A countess, perhaps—or a
princess?”
She leaned toward him w r ith a
grave little smile.
“Or one of the family," she sug
gested softly.
“No, no," declared Jacob, with a
conviction that placed the Roth
schilds in the same category with
Frankfort.
The girl made a little moue at him
“Ought I say, ‘Thank you?’ ” she in
quired.
Before Jacob could make up his
mind to tell her w’hat he thought she
ought to say he heard his grand
mother behind him.
“Well, Jacob, have you made
friends?" she asked, beaming upon
him.
“He doesn’t know, quite, whether
I’m a fit person for his friendship,"
put in Charlotte, wickedly.
“Why, Jacob!" exclaimed his grand
mother with indignation. “This is
Solomon’s Charlotte—from Vienna!"
Charlotte, watching his face, burst
uto another merry peal of laughter,
but his moment of revenge was at
hand.
“Goodness knows what he might
iave thought of me if you hadn’t
•ome in, Grannie!” she laughed, as
Jacob’s confusion grew.
"Give your cousin a kigp, Jacob,”
•oinmanded the old lady. And never
as a grandmother obeyed with
cater alacrity. But Charlotte drew
nek and got the table between them.
II the confusion on her side now.
"Do cousins kiss—in Paris?” she
ed. doubtfully,
"What an idea!” exclaimed the
frau. “In my time w*e held out our
cheek and blushed."
Charlotte could not be found guilty
of disobedicV^ on the score of blush
ing, and for rest her cousin came
to her rescue.
"At least, I may kiss your hand,” he
pleaded, gently.
And with a quick, grateful smil^
she held it out.
******
“To-morrow* I am going to take you
for a drive—all of you/'
This was Solomon's opening of the
family conference thhit evening. Am
schel, ponderous, uncrossed and
crossed his legs.
“Have you collected the family to
give them a day in the country?” he
inquired,, mildly.
“You will see w*hat's at the end of
the drive," returned Solomon, mean
ingly. Carl tapped the arm of his
chair with his quizzing glass.
"Have I been summoned from Na
ples to engage in a guessing con
test?” he asked.
Solomon gazed about the circle of
solemn and frowning faces and
chuckled.
“I believe you are getting impa
tient!” he cried, good-naturedly.
“Yes, of course,” retorted Nathan,
from the edge of his lip.
Solomon fished a large envelope out
of his pocket and held It up.
“Do you wonder why I brought all
of you here?” he cried. “Well, here
is one of the reasons. What do you
think of it?"
They Get a Title.
Nathan stirred with impatience.
“Need we waste any more time?", he
asked coldly.
“No, not a moment," declared Sol
omon, dramatically. “This is a pres-