Newspaper Page Text
jU
One of the
Samples
By BEATRICE FAIRFAX.
T HK little Kiri of thin story was
one of the Sample Kiris, a larKe
family of which you <1oubtle*n
have heard many times. Her baptis
mal name is immaterial, but we will
call her Grace, that being Just the sort
of name for a girl who was so sweet
and pretty in the beginning.
She awakened one morning feeling
strangely depressed and irritable. She
hadn't slept well; the morning had
come 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 i»l‘---;a.nt home.
She dressed quickly and nervously,
her irritation finding vent in the man
ner in which she Jerked on one gar
ment after another, snapping off a
button here and tearing a rent where
a hook had < aught in another place,
each little accident adding fuel to her
wrath till, by the time she had dress- |
ed and was read> for breakfast, it '
had burst into full flame.
Mother always understands, and the
mother of Grace understood. Indeed I
she had been expecting*Just such a
scene for many days. But she said
nothing, knowing among the many
things that are revealed only to
motherhood when silence is best
The girl was moody and snappy to
the girl friends she met on her way
to work, and when she reached the
office she opened her typewriter desk
with the same resentful bang she had
given the door when she^left home.
She took her dictation carelessly atid
indifferently, mistakes resulted, and
he»* 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 worse that they formed
little groups on the cars and shunned
her. Not that she cared at all! If
Grace had eared, her manner would
have been less reprehensible.
It 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 memory as something unbearably
hideous.
She was tired, she was bored, she
even, as she opened the door of h< r
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 he 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
•lay she would have found that the
fault lav not with others, but with
herself. Her temper, her morbidness
and her s< Ifishness all had their ori
gin in overtaxed nerves
And this thought bath might have
revealed lf» her that she hadn’t over
taxed her nerves in giving pleasure to
others, but in seeking it for herself.
A Mistaken Thought.
She whs confined In an office n’l
day. and with the blindness of youth
thought that pursuit of pleasure at
night meant rest. The evenings she
spent at home were flevoted to read
ing highly seasoned fiction till a late
hour instead of good, wholesome
books till a reasonable hour and then
going to bed. Or she invited in a few
friends who came at !♦ Instead of at S.
and stayed till midnight instead of till
10. and she made fudge and filled her
stomach with all that is unholy.
Sometimes she went to a dance and
stayed till 2, because she was too
young to know 12 was late enough,
and 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 p\
of the grace, the charm, the strong* i,
the freshness of youth.
Are you, my dear, like Grace? .>re
you one of the Sample girls?
A Romance of Great Wealth and the Game
of Finance as Flayed by Money Kings
THE FIVE FRANKFORTERS
A Nocelizadon oj the Successful Play of the
Same Name Now Running in New York_
What Has Gone Before.
Having backed heavily the peace of
Europe Nathan Rothschild Is discon
certed to find that Napoleon has
burst forth again, and all the bank
er's outpouring <>r gold for national
development In England will be en
dangered The hanker hastens to
Waterloo There are th** English,
who have guaranteed to him that the
peace of Europe shall be maintained.
From a height above the field of bat
tle .Rothschild sees the whole of it.
Rothschild sees that the wealth of
the world IleH in London, his for the
taking if he can be first on the
ground with the news of the battle.
He hurries to London. and next
morning appeared on the Exchange
Thai night he went to bed $10,000
000 ric her
Seven years later a great banker
left Vienna, another Naples, another
I’aris alid another larndon. and trav
eled td a little old house* in Jews’
Lane, in Frankfort-am-Main. It
was a gathering of the house of
Rothschild. I’ernap** some king was
very hard pressed for money
Now Go on With the Story.
Use Cottolene
for cooking
ass
By ftATHRYN KEY.
Copyright, 1ft 13, by the New York Even
ing Journal Publishing Company.
“Do you live in Paris?” she in
quired.
li»* 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 1 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.”
'•ried 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 hail
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.
"Who 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.
But all he said, with a subdued
thoughtful air. was:
You might be—an actress?”
The girl clapped her hands and
leaned back.
“How flattering!” she bubbled,
“Or a lady of title," he suggested
hastily. "A countess, perhaps—or a
princess ?'*
She leaned toward him with a
grave little smile.
”< )r 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 what 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
T’tn 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, hurst
into another merry peal of laughter,
but his moment of revenge was at
hand.
"Goodness knows what he might
have thought of me if you hadn't
come in. Grannie!” she laughed, as
Jacob’s confusion grew.
"Give your cousin a kiss. Jacob,’
commanded the old lady. And never
.as a grandmother obeyed with
•’voter alacrity. But Charlotte drew
tack and got the table between them.
\11 the confusion on her side now.
Do cousins kiss—in Paris?" she
tsked, doubtfully.
What an Idea!" exclaimed tlie
Presently There Entered a Girl Who Looked Like a Princess.
frau. "In my time we held out our
cheek and blushed."
Charlotte could not be found guilty
of disobedience on the score of blush
ing. and for the rest her cousin came
to her rescue.
"At least, I may kiss your hand,” he
pleaded, gently.
And with a quick, grateful smile
she held it out.
* * • * * *
"To-morrow I am going to take you
for a drive—all of you
This was Solomon's opening of th
family conference that evening. Am
scliel, 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 what'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 ?" hi* asked.
Solomon gazed about the circle of
solemn and frowning faces and
chuckled.
”1 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 1 brought nil
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?” h*>
asked- coldly.
"No not a moment,” declared Sol
omon. dramatically. "This is a pres
ent for all of us"—he turned to his
mother with a bow and added; "Bar
oness!"
The men started forward in their
chairs and stared at his.
"Baroness." he went on in a loud
tone. "I have the honor to hand you
a patent of nobility from the Chan
cery of State in Vienna—which'raises
ns alj to the rank of baron.
The old frau -took the paper with
trembling fingers, entirely uncon
scious of what she was doing. A dead
silence followed the announcement,
then it was broken by an explo
sive:
pon my word!"
"Children, children." faltered the
old woman. "I can not see clearly
read it for me—one of you.”
“I Must Laugh.”
Nathan sprang up and took the pa
per.
"Yes." he said, solemnly, while Carl
peered over his shoulder and Amschel
stared stupidly, "the Emperor has be
stowed on us the rank of baron." Carl
snatched the paper and Nathan held
out his hand to the master of the gift.
"Solomon, you did that well," he
said, generously.
"Well, mother, what have you to
say?" cried Solomon, with a pro id
and happy laugh.
The old lady was almost overcome
•by emotion.
"1 feel i must laugh!" she cried, un
certainly. Then suddenly she re
gained control of herself and her
voice grew grave and solemn. "I am
very proud—-very glad for all your
sakes. Your dear father would have
been so pleased—only—you must not
get conceited."
The paper was passed around again
and again and the brothers slapped
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 the
honor done them:
“I am wondering if it really makes
any difference.’’ Said Jacob, slowly,
when his grandmother chided him.
“Listen to him the spoilt child!”
laughed Solomon. Then he added,
soberly: "No. we are not changed—-
buf 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.
This, it developed, was in the shape
of a loan which would never .be re
paid. It was suggested that each of
the live pay an equal share, but Frau
Gudula insisted that it be/divided into
six shares. "I pay for my own," she
declared.
"So he it. then." said Solomon.
“There is another matter that I want
to discuss with you. You all know
the young Duke of Taunus at least
by reputation."
“By reputation- or the want of it,"
remarked Carl.
"I know his signature," said Am-
schel grimh
"I saw him once as a child—a
handsome boy," the frau remember
ed.
"He is often in Paris," contributed
Jacob. "I have seen him sometimes
and one often hears of him. He
enjoys life."
"He has been to my house in Vien
na." said Solomon, with a little swell
of pride in his tone. “He has charm
ing manners. He was very polite to
Charlotte.”
He looked keenly at the others as
he spoke, but 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.
Amsohel 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 rue 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 v the payments are not kept
up? suggested' Carl.
"Solomon waved his hand. "Of
course I should insure against that.
1 can explain my plan."
Afnschel stared thoughtfully at the
floor. If he is a spendthrift, as they
say - . , ’ i.‘
"It is surely too risky—-too* risky,”
put in Carl, decidedly.
"With a man to whom extrava
gance has become • second nature"—
When yon shorten or fry your
food with hotter it is needless
extravaprance. Butter is too ex
pensive for use anywhere but
on your table. If butter were
really better, would produce I
better results in cooking:, you I
would be justified in using: it,
but it won't. Cottolene is fully
the equal of buttei lor sborten-
ng; it is better for frying It
makes food rich, but not greasy,
because it heats to a higher tem-
peratun than lard or butter,
and cooks so tjuicklx that the
fat has no chance to “soak in. ’
Cottolene is more healthful than
lard, and you only need lo use
tvo-thirds as much as you
would of either butler or lard.
When you
: Unhappy Outsiders in Conjugal Spats :
[■top
to consider
tha:
the price
of Cottolene is
no
more than
the
price of
lard
you can
Tea d
out
i!y figure
what a sav-
THF. N k FAIKBAXk COMPANY
By Virginia T. Van De Water.
T HIS is a plea for the outsider—
the unfortunate person who
must hear the disagreeable
mss that some husbands and wives
say to each other.
I wonder if the man who snubs his
wife or the woman who nags her hus
band has the least Idea of how in
tensely uncomfortable each make* the
unwilling listener. Surely the parties
to a conjugal spat can hardly appre
ciate the sensations of the bystander
who, through no fault of bis own. 's
compelled to be present during their
petty squabbles.
"It can’t be helped.” said a bach
elor to whom I mentioned this matter.
and all the efforts at reform won't
make married people different from
' hat - ley are. They will quarrel, so
you may as well reconcile yourself to
I am not disputing Ills statement -
t least not just now. Whether he J s
j right or not is. as Kipling would saw.
! another story." and one with which
w may deal at some other time. Thel
| nr*tit i - against which I wish to prv»J
; • st at present is not that husban'.
j md wife say disagreeable things to
| «*ach other, but that they say them
where others have ,o hear them, it 1
I is. perhaps, none of my business if I
I ihoy quarrel when alone: it is a v
! ii ’*iness if they quarrel in my pres
ence. P it they sometimes do! And
there are many other people*who are
forced to he w itnesses to manv a con- i
jugal interchange of discourtesies.
Embarrassed Guests.
"You i e late, as usual!" exclaim**!!
a man. as his wife hurried lab* t ej
drawing room. Where «Tic of !h*'i
guests whom she had invited to her 1
home for that evening was already
waiting.
“And you call attention to it, as
usual!” was the sharp retort.
"The fact that I frequently do so
Joes'not seem to move you to change
the habit," sneered the hiutband.
"And so long as you take satisfac
tion in nagging me about it I shaP
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
pair feel that they could say what
they pleased in his presence. They
were unconscious that tbey were
guilty of a breach of one of the first
rules of hospitality, namely, that one
should he kind to the guest under
one's roof. They were truly more un
kind to the visitor than to each other
They were used to their altercations.
He was not.
Both Sorry and Vexed.
A certain husband has strict nations
and disapproves of decollete gowns—
nor does lie admire trains. H19 wife
wears both. I was present last week
when, in crossing the room, he trod
Some Worth While Stories
NO COMPETITION.
When it comes to bad handwriting,
say s the Popular Magazine, the tv o
men who have beaten all others in
! ibis regard in the entire I’nited States
for the last twenty years are Joaquin
J Miller, the poet, and Samuel G. Blythe,
J the humorist And only Blythe eur-
\ t \
A LIFTED LOAD.
Just after Governor B. B Comer,
of At.ibama. had won bis election, fol
lowing a long, hard struggle for the
job. his friends were congratulating
him and one remarked:
"I suppose this is the happiest day
No.”
the Governor, who
art
' 'it • . is. 1 never force*
the happiest moment of mv life. I’-l
tell y ou about it. For five years af
ter my marriage Mrs. Comer and I
had a hard time making a living. \fte
were try ing to buy a little home and
it was a tough fight. The day she
and I went to pay* the last note or.
that small house was the happiest of
my life. 1 never expect to have an
other like it."
BANK CLERKS.
W. J. Bums, the famous detective,
says that in more than twenty years
of his connection with the Govern- 1
ment secret service he has not !
"turned up" a single counterfeit.
"All the credit for discovering
counterfeit money." says Mr. Burns,
"belongs to the bank clerks of this
country. There is not a person, young
or old. who does not ow e a debt of I
gratitude to ihe indefatigable hark
clerks who are always on their job.
and whose keen discernment keeps
our currency clear of counterfeits." I
on heV dress. She started angrily.
“Lodk out!" she.exclaimed. "You’rq
treading on my gown! Don’t be so
clumsy!"
"Well." exclaimed her lord and mas
ter (?), "if 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!"
1 tried to look as if 1 were not un
comfortable. as if 1 were not listening
and as if 1 were not lots of things
that I was. For 1 was wretched and
painfully embarrassed. 1 have a fatal
facility for seeing any quarrel from
the standpoint of both contestants,
and in this case I was sorry for the
woman and for her husband, and at
the same time vexed with both of
them. Moreover. I fe.lt that they were
lacking in consideration for me and
m., feelings—in fact, that they were
selfish.
Unhappy Outsiders.
Selfishness becomes cruelty whey
iht* outsider is dragged into a conju
gal spat and the husband or wife ap
peals to her for confirmation or refu
tation of some statement which has
caused dispute. What can the un
happy outsider do? If she agrees w ith
either person she "gets in wrong” with
the otjier. Moreover, she may see
that both are in error (for was there
ever a quarrel in w hich either person
was absolutely right (?). but if she
dares to suggest this both will con
demn her as lacking the courage to
tell the truth or declare herself on the
side of justice.
So there she stands, a miserable
victim of a wrangle between married
people—and she not one of them. This
last reflection may bt 'the "tie comtor
she has. Yet it is rather hard to
suffer for the quarrels of matri
mony ulici. tin*, matrimony has been 1
none of . own making. I
Nathan, filled, in the. hjfitus with a
shake of-the head.
-■'“Guarantees must be made that he
changes his habits." insisted Salo
mon.
"How?"-inquir«d the Londoner.
/‘.By his marriage," was the prompt
reply.
"To whom ?"
Solomon again gffve 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. T+ie
old lady’s jaw fairly dropped and she
stored at her son as at a maniac.
Nathan and Carl merely sat motion
less—and looked. Amschel. the most
truly, phlegmatic of all, was first to
speak.
"The Duke of Taunus marry Char
lotte?" he said wich 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
—we are Jews! I am ambitious for
the family. What do you say?”
He appealed to the others, but 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. As 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 to 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!”
j He paused, and Amschel spoke
gravely.
j "We will think the matter over.”
; "I have though! it over," retorted
1 Solomon, grimly, thrusting out his
chin. "To-morrow 1 am going to
take Charlotte for .1 drive—to Neu-
stadt Castle. I should like one of you
to come with me."
"We must thinly—we must think it
over" said Nathan, evasively, as the
appeal seemed directed to him. "Carl
—Amschel, let uw talk it over."
Little Jacob Is Right.
The others rose and followed him
slowly toward the door. Solomon,
frowning and biting his lips, stopped
Jacob with a gesture.
“Stay with me, will you?" he asked.
"Let’s play a game of chess I’m w or-
ried— I want to distract my thoughts. '
"Uncle." said the .voung man. sol
emnly. "you have forgotten some
thing. You’ve left one very impor
tant thing out of your 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 age
would wish to choose for herself-"
"Nonsense!’’ exclaimed Solomon.
"She likes him. Jacob. He is a charm
ing fellow. She met him and was
charmed with him at once. Why
should she not be happy with him?
—because he is a prince? How ab
surd! Why. she might marry a'bank
(Jerk and be just as miserable! Don’t
you agree with me, mother?"
"No, I don’t!" was the unexpected
reply, with unexpected violence. The
three brothers halted at the door and
came back a step or two.
"Mother!" exclaimed Solomon.
"Little Jacob's right!” The old
woman ros« slowly and faced them.
Her'face wa.§ pale and her eyes burn
ed ‘.with a strange fire. They could
h'ear her breathing in .the stillness.
"Children, you terrify me." she
cried, but she did not look terrified
only stern and immovable. "M;-
grandfather came from Xeustadt in
the Taunus. where he lived in the
simplest way. . And now you my
sons—declare that my grandchild
shall ride in a coach and - be called
a Duchess where he. my grandfather,
was once of such low degree! No! We
live in an age of miracles. Y’ou boys,
with your wealth and influence.'.may
accomplish even this—but not with
mv consent! It is impossible."
She walked slowly to the door apd
turned again. "For the first time in
this old house of ours I withdraw
from a family conference. I’ll have
no hand in this affair. Do as you
please^—but keep me out ^)f it!"
To Be Continued To-morrow.
Little Bobbie’s
Pa
By WILLIAM F. KIRK.
P OOR Pa. he got pinched yester
day by a gaim warden. It As
the first time that Pa ewer got
arrested. & he felt vary bad about it.
He was hanging his hed all the morn
ing ac brekfust to-day, & wen he
started for the littel postoflice to see
if thare was any mail for him or M.i
or me. he sed: Deer wife, look long
upon my countehanee, for you may
newer see me aggen. 1 feel as i*
sumthing terribul was going to hap
pen to me aggen to-day.
Oh. I doant think so, sed Ma. Sure
ly, after beeing arrested one day Fate
wuddent be so unkind as 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 w,e
are rustl-kating here in this butifcl
littel 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 a* much as the
fancy one you ware in the city. Look
at me & littel Bobble, sed Pa. About
all that we ware up here is a pair of
plain, simpel overalls & sum shoes.
But newer mind, we shall see. Good
bye, deer. & reemember what I tell
you—I have a premonishun. 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 line 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 littel stream called
Horse Brook, neer Bob Hardie’s farm.
This is a grate morning, Bobbie, sed
Pa; the wind is from the southwest
thare is a sort of haze in the air, al
most as if it was Injun summer. The
condishuns are ldeel for trouts to bite,
sed Pa. I anticipate sum rare sport.
We started to fish. & all the fore
noon Pa had all the luck. I fished
in sum of the saim places that he
did, but the trouts indent seem to
care for the worms wich was on my
hook, nr else thay was afrade thay
wud drag a littel hoy like me into
the water. Anyhow, thay dident bit
for me at all, & then Pa wud cum
along & throw into the saim pla^e
(V- catch three or four nice big ones. .
Doant be down harted. littel boy,
sed Pa. Much moar expeerienced
anglers than you are have tried to
catch fish with me. & in the end I
have forced all of them to bow thai*e
heds in shaim & walk slowly away.
Few men indeed can hope to vie w’Jth
me in luring the finny tribe from
thare lair. Pa sed. & then lie kep on
bragging & catching moar fish.
After a long while 1 got a grate
big trout on my line & I was gitting
him out all rite by mlself. but Pa
had to butt in with his landin net to
help me wen I dident need any help,
& he knocked the fish off my line.
I was so mad I cud almost sware but
I dident say anything. The fish was
gone & that was all thare was to it.
He Gets One.
Jest befoar we quit fishing I
caught a littel three inch trout. T
was going to put it back in the
water, but Pa sed Wait a minrtit,
Bobbie, I have a plan. Put the littel
fish in yure littel basket. 1 will
explain the plan wen we git neer
hoam.
Wen we got neer hoam Pa gaiv
me his big basket to carry with all
his big trouts. & he took my littel
basket with the ope littel trout in it.
We will walk into the village & to
the hotel this way & 1 will show the
littel trout to yure mother x- you
show her all the big ones & tel! her
that you caught them. That will be
a good joak on her. Pa sed.
Just then a man cairn up to Pa &
sed Any luck?
Indifferent, sed Pa. & he kep walk
ing.
Let me look in that basket, he sfed
to Pa. X* he looked & saw the littel
three inch trout & he sed That will
cost you $25 dollars. No angler is
allowed to keep a trout under six
inches in length. Why dident you
throw him back in the stream?
I wanted him to. I toald the man,
but he sed he wuddent. Look at all
the nice big ones 1 caught, 1 sed to
the man. he was a game warden. - I
threw all my littel ones back. Pa
looked at me like spanking sounds
& feels. But he dident have the $?5
with him. so he had to be arresttxl
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. Hex
tells me he loves me very much
and if 1 would ever meet another
man it would break his heart.
Three months ago I fell in love
with another man who wants me
to marry him. 1 love him more
than the first man Do you think
• 1 am doing right if I marry the
second man, whom I 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
more.
SEND HIM AWAY.
lAKAR MISS FAIRFAX
A young man loved a girl,
but was too bashful to tell her
so She loved him also, hut act
ed very coldly to him. So he
told her chum everything, and
she told the girl, who was de-
ligh: * d. As she is coining back
In three weeks, would you ad
vise her to speak .to him or send
him away r?he loves him very
dearly but is only IT. while he is
19.
You are both too young—so young
there is every prospect that when the
three weeks aie up you both will have
changed your minds.