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T
Mothers Not ‘Press Agents’
By DOROTHY DIX
THE FIVE FRANKFORTERS
A Novelizalion oj the Successful Play of the
Same Name Now Running in New York.
I OFTEN think that mothers are the
worst press agents on earth, and
• that they do far more to queer their
daughtere’ fortunes than they do to
boost them
Practically every woman who has girls
is on a still hum for husbands for them.
She wants to see them married off and
settled in homes of their own. with their
shopping tickets assured for life. To
this end she attempts to present her
daughters In an attractive light to the
masculine eye. and It is the blunders
that she makes in this direction that are
so appalling and so pathetic, for nine
times out of ten instead of casting a
rimy halo about the girl, mother suc
ceeds in robbing her of whatever
charms she has
For instance, the other da.v 1 was
«t a dinner given In honor of a woman
from the Middle West and her very
pretty and attractive daughter. There
were several delightful young men pres
ent who were just beginning to get their
feet well planted on the ladder of suc
cess. and any one of whom would have
been a good match for the girl, for they
were all men with futures
Rut mother calmly announced: "Ma
bel told them all at home that she
was going to New York in search of a
millionaire, and that no pikers need ap
ply " Possibly the speech was intended
as a Jest. but it was an expression of
a desire so sordid, so mercenary, so
vulgar that It fell like a wet blanket
oxer the entire company, and, push it
aside as we might, none of us could see
the girl as anything hut a miserable lit
tle fortune hunter, willing to sell her
self to the highest bidder.
Left Her Alone.
"That lets us out. doesn’t It?" one
of the young men said with a scarcely
vetled sneer to the other men. “we can’t
qualify in the millionaire class by about
$•99,999.76."
Furthermore, not one of the young
men who was invited to the dinner to
meet this girl paid her the slightest at
tention while she was in the city, al
though they would have liked her and
been nice to her. and made her have a
good time had It not been for her moth
er's assertion that she was In search
<f a husband with money. The girl's
malicious enemy could not have
done her a worse turn than her mother
did by her id loth* speech
Nor is this type of mother rare 1
have known hundreds of women mar
ried to men in moderate circumstances
who made no bones of proclaiming to
any one they knew that they didn’t in
tend that their daughters should marry
poor men and have to work and econo
mize as they had had to do. A mother
of this sort Is as good a scarecrow to
keep suitors away from her daughters
as human ingenuity can invent.
The man who has his own fortune to
make certainly does not want to marry
the daughter of a woman who bad not
the courage to do her part In assisting
her husband, nor the affection to make
her feel thut It is a privilege to help
bear the burdens of one you love, so the
level-headed man. who wants a wife
who will be a helpmate instead of a
hindrance, keeps away from girls thut
have been brought up by such a mother.
Nor does the man who has money yearn
to marry a gtrl whose mother has
taught her to look at his check book be
fore she looks at the man -Even a mil-
onaire likes to think that he was n\ar-
1 “led for himself alone, ami tha^ the
I woman would have said Just as
I (Ulckly whether he had offered her a
Harlem flat or a Fifth Avenue mansion.
Arfother mother who is a hoodoo to
r daughters is the woman who brags
I ibout how helpless her daughters are.
md how tenderly she has retired them
"I never let Mamie be wakened in the
morning I always let her sleep until
10 or 11 o’clock, until she feels like get
ting up." "I always keep everything
that Is unpleasant from Gladys. She’s
such a sensitive nature I feel she must
i shielded/’ "Sadie couldn’t new on a
button to save her life. I always do that
for her She really doesn’t know how
*o hold a needle in her hand." "Gwen
dolyn has never put her foot inside of
the kitchen scarcely She couldn't boil
water without scorching it. I don't want
my daughters to work as long u« I can
keep them from It. There’ll be plenty
of time for them tp learn to cook and
«ew after they get married
Insane Talk.
j These are familiar utterances of moth
ers and daughters, and with daughters
j hat they are anxious to marry off, too
sn't that an insane line of talk to hand
<»ut as a recommendation for wives? As
well had a clothing salesman say to a
. man. "8lr, I’d like to sell you this suit
. of clothes whiter I can conscientiously
recommend to you as a mlsflt that you
will regret taking If you do take it to
the longest day you live. It’s true it’s
pretty and good to look at, or at least
It will be good to look at until It fades,
which will be soon, hut It’s utterly no j
account, and useless, and it will rip and i
tear at the first strain, for It hasn’t got
*one thread of genuine wool In It. and it's
shoddy through and through, because
the woman who made It made It that
way."
What Inspires any woman to think
that a man that’s got sense enough to
be out of a feeble-minded Institute would
deliberately marry a girl who has been
trained to be lazy, and selfish, and In- j
competent, and worthless, and who Is
neurotic to boot, passes comprehension. I
Rut mothers go about advertising tirftse 1
disqualifications for wifehood In their !
daughters, and then are surprised be- ;
a use they have a lot of old maids left j
•n their hands.
Another Mistake.
Then there are the mothers who think
that the way to catch husbands for A heir
daughters Is to pile finery they can't af
ford on the girls’ hacks. They think
that attracts men, whereas It scares
men off. When a sensible man sees a
poor girl dressed like a millionairess lie
sets her down as heartless, selfish and
frivolous. He says to himself that she’s
working her poor old father to death to
get good clothes to flaunt herself about
In. or she's going in debt for thbm, or
she's willing to starve the family to
adorn herself, and none of that for him,
thank you. He wants something in a
wife with more to It than a fashion
plate.
t >f course mother means well. She's
doing the best she can to boost daugh
ter. but *he doesn’t understand her
business as a press agent because it
never seems to occur to her to say that
Sallle is a nice, strong, healthy girl, who
knows how to work, and Isn’t afraid of
11. and Is ready to help any young man
that she falls In love with hustle for a
fortune. Yet that’s the dope that would
go with men
"Jove!” cried Gustavus. "The sight of an angel flying through the air does improve tee prospect of heaven, and
almost makes a chap wish he deserved But, alas! Madame, you must come down to esrth and occupy yourself
suitably here by sitting where I can look at you—without troubling myself to move. For I am extraordinarily comforta-
ble--,considering the state of my bank account."
Daysey May me and Her Folks
By FRANCES L. CARBIDE
Hh
1 u
HE vender of fruit who is a stu
dent In that gentle art of duplic
ity which has for its object the
sale to a purchaser of something which
is not as it seems, puts a rose-pink net
over a basket of green peaches, and. lo,
the net gives the fruit the tint of per
fection the purchaser seeks, and he
buys.
Perhaps those who are students in
human nature will some day discover
that the widow’s veil in a similar man
ner covers the Imperfections of the
woman underneath It tones down that
which is immature and harsh, and
throws the softening influence of sorrow
over blemishes .that would stand out In
uncompromising unattractiveness were
the woman a spinster
Wouldn’t Put It Off.
In no other way could Daysey May me
Appleton account for the manner In
which men are attracted by widows.
The life insurance left by the Dear De
parted may sometimes allure, but statis
tic* prove that men are not governed
entirely by mercenary motives, the
spinster with an inheritance of ten
thousand dollars standing only half the
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FOR SALE BY
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chance to wed of the widow whose hus
band netted her half a* much.
It Is as if the woman who marries
gets the habit, and Daysey Mayme, who
had hoped to be a widow in her next
reincarnation, concluded not to put it
oft that long; she would get the habit
now All she needed was a veil and a
grave, the former was within her means,
And the lattejf would cost nothing
"There are always graves lying around
unclaimed." said Daysey Mayme. 1
will go out to the cemetery and adopt
one."
All of whleh explains why Daysey
Mayme Appleton passed through the
r ates of a cemetery one morning, wear
ing a widow’s veil and carrying a basket
of plants and flowers
"Grief is so much more attractive
when new." she murmured, selecting a
rrave only recently made, and weeping
over it with one eye. and using the
other like a real widow to gaze at a
man at work In the next plot.
As a gentle tribute to the spinster-
umd from which it had given her means
of escape she planted a border of old
maid, and was putting in a row of bach
elor’s buttons down the middle when
she felt a sudden grasp of her shoulder
’at jerked her to her feet.
Gets Patched Up.
"What do you mean, you brazen
thing?" screamed a woman in her ears,
"by planting flowers on my husband’s
grave? What was he to you?” shaking
her between every word.
In the weeks that followed when Day -
*ey Mayme was being patched tip in a
hospital, she told in her delirium of try
ing to plant flowers, though she planted
seeds of suspicion instead, and raved
of how the man in the next plot came
o the aid of the real widow and took her
n his arms
This seemed to hurt worse than the
fractured head and broken ribs
"There is no use in a spinster ever
trying to beat a widow* to i\." she
moaned.
The Right Place.
Parson—Do you know where little
boys go to when they smoke?
Boy—Yes: up the alley
n
KODAKS
’ Th« Beit f luleti las Md Cslarf-
Ml That Cm SrotfuetS •
Futisac Pita* and c m-
plett rtoek uutsir »urr iw.
Quick trail sen-let for eart-of-towr rupurr-T*
Sand far Catalog aal Brice Ltat.
I A. K. HAWKES CO. K D ° r D P A T K
si '"vattr *
i
What Has Gone Before.
Having harked heavily the peace of
Europe Nathai Rothschild is discon
certed to find that Napoleon has
burst forth again, and all the bank
er’s outpouring of gold for national
development In England will be en
dangered. The hanker hastens to
Waterloo. There are the English,
who have guaranteed to him that the
peace of Europe shHll he maintained.
From a height above the field of bat
tle Rothschild sees the whole of **.
Rothschild sees that the wealth of
the world lies In London, his for the,
taking if he ran be first on the
ground with the news of the battle.
He hurdles to London, and next
morning appeared on the Exchange.
That night he went to bed $10,000
000 richer. •
Seven years later a great hanker
left Vienna, another Naples, another
Paris and another Jyondon, and trav
eled to a little old house in .lews’
Lane, in Krankfort-arn-Main. It
was a gathering of the house of
Rothschild. Perhaps some king was
very hard pressed for money. "Lit
tle Jacob" opposes Solomon's plan
to inarrv Charlotte off to the Duke
of Taunus. He is barked up by Frau
Gudula.
Now Go on With the Story.
By KATHRYN KEY.
I Copyright, 1913, by the New York Even
ing Journal Publishing Company.
TO-DAY’S 1NSTALLM ENT.
Evelyn was eighteen and a Princess
—and a very pretty girl, so one would
naturally guess that her life was a
matter of sunshine and roses, as she
sat idly on a great stone bench in
the Garden of Hedges at Neustadt
Castle. The golden sunlight filtered
in cool shadows through the groat
box hedges that towered above the
fountain of the little broken-armed
Cupid; <-n the sun-flocked grass at
the girl's feet lay the gold-haired
owner of the castle, tier handsome
young cousin. Gustavus. the reigning
Duke of Taunus. Hut that was only
a temporary arrangement, and alas
and alack for Evelyn. Cupid of the
broken arm had a clever left hand
and a trusty bow!
So in the pretty Princess’ great
brown eyes there was a wistful light
because Gustavus’ position at her feet
was a* temporary affair, as she knew
All too well.
Rut the little Princess believed In
being happy while she might, and as
the cousins sat there waiting for the
return of Count Fehrenberg, who had
gone to Frankfort to persuade the
bankers there to bolster up the fallen
fortunes of Duke and Duchy with a
loan of 12.000,000 florins, the girl ex
erted all her youthful charm, and
tried to forget ,\Jadatne St. Georges,
the favorite of the moment, who was
merrily swinging against the back
ground of green and gayly tormenting
her "Court High Swinger," Baron
Seulberg.
"You Must Come Down."
"Jove!" cried Gustavus. The sight
of an*angel flying through the air
does improve the prospect of heaven,
and almost makes a chap wish he de*
served— But, alas! .Madame, yoiL
in its t come down to earth and occupy
yourself suitably here by sitting
where I can look at you—without
troubling myself to move. For 1 am
extraordinarily comfortable—consid -
ering the state of my bank account.’’
This was added in a lower tone as
he raised dashingly tender eyes to
the little cousin, who tried to accept
calmly the intrusion of this angel on
her brief idyll. Better, she thought,
that Fehrenberg should return now
and discuss the details of those tire
some business arrangements than that
she should have to listen to Gusta
vus’ complimenting "that” woman!
And Evelyn never guessed ho\x Feh-
renberg’s mision was to terminate her
day-dream.
Jew’* Lane is a far cry from the
Castle of Neustadt—and pretty Char
lotte, with her family millions, is a
more dangerous rival than Madame
Georges can ever dream of being. So,
Evelyn, your smile of relief when the
red-coated lackey announces "Count
Fehrenberg” little presages your feel
ings at the drama In which \ou are
so soon to be called to take*your part.
Of course, every' one was all Impa
tience to hear Echrenberg’s news; for
the State must soon meet large lia
bilities, and the treasury was in a
sadly empty condition. But Fehren-
berg’s first tidings were calculated to
startle rather than to cheer.
• • •
What Have You Done?
In eager impatience the Duke asked
"What have you done. Fehrenberg?"
Perhaps in his great wallet the Count
had concealed vast stuns of money.
Fehrenberg was so clever, nothing
was impossible where he was con
cerned.
Fehrenberg answered: "I have in
vited the Frankfort, Jew's to lunch
with you to-day. And they are com
ing."
There was a very expressive silence
for a few moments.
"They are coming here—to lunch-
to-day? Heavens!" The Duke strug
gled to grasp the magnitude of this
strange departure from the custom
and hading and precedent of centu
ries Five Jews from Jews’ Lane to
lunch with the reigning Duke of Tau-
nus!‘ But royal bfbod must fit one
to face any situation.
"Seulberg," said the prince, "may I
ask you to give orders to the steward
to be ready for the caravan when it
arrives?"
"And now. you poor devil, you
must have had a miserable time
yesterday. Tell rpe all about it."
"I was far from miserable. First
the walk through Jew’s I^ane was in
teresting. I met stranger persons
than I have ever encountered
elsewhere," answered Fehrenberg
thoughtfully. "And here our great
court bankers have their home—
here they always meet when they
have important ventures to discuss.
I think they must consider us a mat
ter of grave concern, or they' would
not have come from the four corners
of Europe to consider us."
He Has a Pretty Daughter.
Gustavus laughed. "You lay too
much stress on the importance of
saving a duchy, Fehrenberg. This
family gathering would have been
called in any case to discuss the new
barony. Was Solomon from Vienna
there, and what did he have to say?
I knew him—he has a very pretty
daughter."
"He seems to be their leading
spirit but he said very little, though
his manner was cordial."
"Oh, yes.’ said the duke, little
dreaming that the man he was so
idly discussing had already perfected
plans for annexing a greater title
than "barin x " “Oh. yes. Solomon’s
manners are so serenely easy' and as
sured that they almost appear to be
good. But nothing matters so that
we get what we want from them."
And Gustavus did not reckon how
very much these clever bankers might
want—from him.
"1 invited them here, so that we
might the more easily get ’what we
want’ from them. They will feel out
of their element in Neustadt. and not
quite sure of themselves perhaps. In
their own offices they have us at a
disadvantage. But here—who knows
what may be accomplished?"
A Very Clever Prophecy.
Which was. indeed, a very clever
prophecy on the part of Count Feh
renberg
"What we propose to accomplish,
Fehrenberg. is to set these Jews to
work at their proper business—finan
cing a reigning prince But you said
you had invited the ladies of the
family How many are there?"
"The pretty tgiri. whom it pleased
your highness to remember." As if.
indeed, Gustavus ever was pleaded to
forget a pretty girl! "And the moth
er Frau Gudula. A very genuine
old woman I admire her."
Gustavus reflected a minute. Here
was a position calling for a hit of
clever diplomacy.
"Dear Evelyn,” he said, "you know
that I am in great difficulties about
money. Will you help me?"
Evelyn’s great brown eyes grew’
lustrous. She had known that the
coming of t Fehrenberg would spell
some good 'for her. “Gustavus, if I
can help you ”
"You can if you will overcome your
fine fault. Perhaps, dear, you were
born a century too late. You are
conservative, old-fashioned, maybe.”
The girl’s bright face faded from a
rose glow to a gray twilight of color,
and Gustavus. who never failed in his
perception of the feminine mood,
added: "But that is, after all, the
fashion I most admired.”
I Am Very Different.
"But I am very different from
Madame St. Georges," ventured
Evelyn.
"And yet she is delightful, too—in
her way."
"I could never amuse you as she
does." mused the girl, but with world-
old guile, she leaned very close, her
white throat pulsing softly, her white
arm close, close to Gustavus on the
old gray stone bench. The duke
glanced idly toward the swing where
Madame St. Georges had found an
other "court swinger” in Count
Fehrenberg. Then he raised his
cousin's little pink palm and kissed
it very gently.
“You could interest me as she could
not. And I think you can do some
thing for me that no one else at all
could do. My Frankfort friends are
going to put my money difficulties
right for me. and you can help me
greatly by being polite to them."
"Of course 1 will," said Evelyn,
softly. "That is so little to do for
you. Gustavus.
"Thanks—kind little cousin." Gus
tavus kissed the little hand again.
A Coach Has Arrived.
"A traveling coach has just ar
rived." called Fehrenberg.
The duke smiled a bit cynically at
the eager girl by his side. "The
Frankfurters! Your duties begin
promptly, Evelyn!"
But it was not the Frankforters at
all. for instead of those simple folk,
the lackey announced. "Their High
nesses the Prince of Klausthal Agor-
da. the Princess, the Canon of
Rouen."
Even Gustavus was shaken from
his reserve and from "kingly dig
nity," and exclaimed in dismay
"That old High and Mighty and his
retinue—to meet a family of bankers.
What on earth will happen? I must
go to them—"
But it was too late for any diplo
matic measures; for the garden was
already taken possession of by a
stately and magnificently attired man
of 50, followed by a beautiful young
woman in her early thirties, and by a
black-robed canon.
‘ M# dear Gustavus," said the man.
with much ceremony, "we were told
you were in the garden, so we came
to you quite without ceremony. You
will forgive us?"
"It is most kind of you." said Gu'F
tavus. But he as visioning one of*
the least successful luncheons that
had ever graced the halls of Neustadt.
On the Way to Paris.
"We are on our wav to Paris .o
live there all the rest of our days."
cried the Princess In great excitement
"But we c*>uld not pass your castle
without stopping to wish you good
bye. ’
"A brief visit—for I have business
to attend to in Frankfort this after
noon. You see. I have abdicated. I
have seen too much to enjoy playing
at being a King any longer on my
petty throne. I was in Pari< w-hen
they got rid of their good Louis ’
But—"
The Prince did not propose to stop
to consider amazement at hi« move
"I gra apt afraid of the same proc
ess being applied to me. Rut I have
watched the growth of a common
democratic strain in this age with
which I have no sympathy or pa
tience. Oh. soon there will be no
classes in this world. All harriers
arc being removed. And the horror of
It all is that the barriers go down .it
the hands ot those rulers who should
prefer to perish rather than sacrifice
their privileges. For example—the
Emperor in Vienna has lately enno
bled a family of bankers. He has
actually created barons from the
Jews. Now, what do you say *o
that?"
"Lunch With Me To-day.”
Gustavus had found the situation
sufficiently embarrassing before it
was so clearly defined, but this on*'
tion and the sound of a postillion s
horn just at the close of it made him
feel as if the power of w’ords was a
very inadequate thing.
"You can imagine what we are
coming to,” concluded the Prince
with a flourish.
"My imagination is thoroughly oc
cupied with the anticipation of w’hat
is about to happen when those very
barons of whom you speak so feel
ingly appear upon the scene, as th?y
w'ill surely do at any moment. They
have accepted an invitation to lunch
with me here to-day!”
The Princess of Klausthal-Agorda
rose in great agitation. Every little
fluted ruffle on her traveling gown of
soft gfay taffeta wa9 aflutter in in
dignant amazement. To lose a throne
and to be compelled to lunch with
these Jewish bankers all in one day
was too much for any pretty aristo
crat. Join the bourgeoisie at once
and be done with it, she thought.
Poor, guilty Feherenberg! “I fancy
we heard their coach just now." ho
said in tone of great deprecation.
Gustavus addressed the agitated
Princess: "l trust that you will not
feel obliged to run away?”
The Prince was quite equal to the
occasion:
"No! No! I have business deal
ings with these people and intend to
see them in Frankfort. I have never
had the pleasure of meeting them—
socially. But it will be convenient—
and interesting to me—to see them
now—away from their natural sur
roundings. We will gladly stay to
luncheon."
And there was nothing else for the
wife of the Prince of Klausthai-
Agorda to do; so she acquiesced with
what grace she could summon.
To Be Continued Monday.
Fellow Passenger—Pardon me; your
necktie has been sticking out for some
time. I refrained from telling you
sooner because those young ladies
seemed so much amused.
Farmer—Thankee; an’ the oil from
that lamp has been droppin’ on that
light overcoat o’ yourn for the last ten
minutes, but every one seemed so tickled
hat I hated to spoil the fun.
• • *
Murilla—Who is that gentleman you
introduced me to a little time ago? I
didn’t catch his name."
Mllllcent—That is the distinguished
poet. Mr. Scrawler.
Murilla—Indeed! Now I understand
why he seemed hurt when he asked me
wt\o was rnv favorite poet and I replied
"Shakespeare."
• * •
"What has become of the big man who
used to beat the bass drum?" asked the
private of the drum major.
"He left us about three months ago."
"Good drummer, too. wasn’t he?"
"Yes, very good; but he mpt so fat
that when he marched he imildn’t hit
the drum in the middle,"
By MABEL HERBERT URNER.
H ELEN’S brown broadcloth suit,
in which she had felt so well-
groomed all winter, seemed
suddenly shabby and dusty as she
came out in the bright spring sun
light.
Although she had brushed it be
fore starting out. she stooped over
now and with her gloved hand shook
the front of the skirt, and brushed
one of Pussy Purrmew’s hairs froyi
her sleeve.
The things that look so well all
winter are apt to look disconcert
ingly shabby on the first bright
spring day. And Helen felt uncom
fortably shabby as she took the car
at the corner and sat down it) the
only vacant seat by a woman in an
assertively new light gray suit.
As she took out her carfare, even
her brown suede gloves looked con
spicuously dark and dustr beside the
fresh gray kids that held, with an
air of superior daintiness, a gold-
meshed bag.
The air was quite chilly In spite
of the brilliant sunlight, yet the
brown suit seemed suddenly much
too warm and too heavy. The reali
zation that spring is far advanced
and that she has no spring clothes
is a dismaying one to any woman.
Helen had started out to get the
material for an afternoon gown,
something in foulard or some soft
summer silk. It would take her two
weeks before she could get it made,
and she needed it now.
She left the car and hurried in to
McCormick’s. The store was crowd
ed, and the silk counter the most
crowded of all.
There was no chance of being
waited on for 9ome time. But Helen
was glad of the opportunity to look
over the many silks displayed on the
counter and draped on skirt forms
over the shelves. She had read and
seen enough of the new spring
fabrics to know they were gayly col
ored. but in McCormick’s display to
day the colorings were riotous.
Had Nothing Else.
Just why American women should
wear barbaric hues because there has
been a war in the Balkans was not
quite clear to Helen, and she had no
intention of making herself conspic
uous for any such freakish fashion.
Put when the clerk was free to
wait on her she found they had al
most nothing in quiet colorings and j
small designs. "Everything’s large
figured and bordered tills season," he
informed her.
"Then haven't you something from
last season that is more quiet?"
-We never ~arry anything over,
haughtily, with a glance that im
plied she must be a metet peculiar
person to want anything from la*t
season. . .
There was nothing to do but try
some other shop, and Helen hurried
over to Gordon's. But the crowd
around the silk counter here was
even greater than at McCormick s
and the display of colorings and de
signs fully as spectacular.
The counters were covered with a
confusion of bolts, which the over-
rushed salesman had not had time to
put back. As Helen glanced over
these she started joyfully. Here at
last was just w’hat she wanted—-a
dull pastel blue foulard with a tiny
indistinct white figure.
The bolt wan underneath several
others, but on the exposed end was
marked the width and price—"42 in.
$3 00." It was more than Helen want
ed to pay, but all the silks were high
this spring, and she was so relieved
to find something quiet amid this
glaring effulgence of color that the
words “Six yards of this, please.” hov
ered on her lips.
She looked impatiently up and down
the counter, but every clerk had a
customer with two or three others
waiting. Her chances were Just as
good with the clerk nearest her. A
woman who had been waiting for
this same clerk now got up from the
seat beside Helen with an audible^
“Well, I can't wait any longer.”
Helen quickly took the seat, glanc
ing up at the clerk to remind him she
was next. But the customer he was
now serving, an excessively stout
woman, with huge dangling pearl
earrings, was plainly taking her time.
“No. this isn’t quite what I wanted,”
as she held up a fold of green and
red flowered foulard. "Haven't you
something else in these same shades
but not quite so dark?”
The Fat Woman.
"I’ve showed you everything w*
have, madam. answered the clerk
with an unmistakable note of weari
ness.
"Well, let me see that piece with
the purple figure again. No, that
isn't the* one I meant," as he drew
out a bolt from a dozen or more
others he had evidently been show
ing her. "Didn’t you show' me some
thing, with a purple figure on a red
and orange ground? Yes. that’s it.”
throwing an end of the silk over her
arm and viewing it complacently.
Helen gasped as she pictured this
ponderously fat woman in a dress of
that silk.
"1 suppose those colors are fast?
I expect to wear it at the seashore—
you don’t think the salt air would
fade it?"
’ The clerk gravely assured her that
the colors were fast.
"How wide is this? You said six
yards would be enough, didn’t you?"
“That's* 42 inches, madam. Six
yards is w’hat we usually sell, but
perhaps,” apologetically, "you might
require a trifle more."
This light is so poor to judge
colors by,” after another ten minutes
hesitation. "Could you take these to
the window?”
The colors were raw and glaring
enough to be seen in any light, yet
the clerk patiently took the three
bolts out in the aisle.
Helen knew now that her chances
for being waited on would be better
with any other clerk, but she was
curious to know just how much more
of this clerk’s time this woman would
have the presumption to take.
"Well, this isn’t quite what I want
—but I suppose HI take it.” she mur
mured at length, reluctantly. “You’re
quite sul*e you haven’t anything you
haven’t shown me that I might like
better?"
- "Madam. I’ve shown you every piece
of Poulard in stock,” helplessly.
"Well, six and a half yards of this,
then,” in an injured tone that implied
she had been hurried to her decision
Helen gave a quite audible sigh ol
relief. The clerk measured off th*
silk and took out his scissors,
"Oh. wait—just a moment! Before
you cut it—just let me see this other
piece again. I wonder after all if T
wouldn’t like this better? Yet I don’t
quite like that striped effect. There
was one here very much like this
without that— Oh. here it is. Now,
If I could see this in the light.”
Helen knew: that If she had b$en
that clerk she would have screamed.
But the clerk, with an imperturbable
face, took the bolt to the light, brought
it back and gazed expressionless into
space, while the woman began again
to pull over all the other silks.
"You didn’t show me that, did youi
pointing to a piece the clerk nextj
them was showing. J
"That’s taffeta, madam You i
you wanted only foulard."
"Well, of courts, if I can’t get^
I want in foulard I may have tc|
taffeta. Let me see w’hat you
anyway.”
By this time Helen felt thd
herself wanted to shriek, yet
perverse curiosity she was
mined to see it through. .
With divine patience the den
brought out bolt after bolt of ]
When he finally said “That isj
have in taffetas, madam." sh<4
went back to the foulards. t|
room to show the taffetas he
some of the foulards- away,
he got out once more. .
"Well, I really don’t think!
those are exactly what 1 wart
you can give me a sample j
And yes—I’ll take one of this,]
thank you.” L
And she walked off serenell
With the same expression! f
the clerk turned to Helen [
"I’ll take six yards of this.!
The astonishingly brisk cuil
Helen’s voice was due both!
tenseness and to a perverrf
to emphasize the swiftness]
decision. She hoped the othefl
heard her. L
"Yes, madam,” in grateful!
ciation as he pulled out the bl
But to Helen’s horror, wll
saw the other end, she dis|
that it had a six-inch border
ing greens and yellows.
Was Thinking Fast.
She Rave a little gasp and]
at it in dismay.
"Oh. wait, just a moment!’ .
clerk started to measure it off.‘
Was there a faint mockery
glance as he looked up? .
"Have you invthing like this!,
out a border?” Helen asked tiiL
“No, madam; but I will shov^
what we have ”
Helen was thinking very fast. -
had seen all the other silks as'—
had shown them to that womanL
and there was nothing among them
She could take this and cut the bor
der off! The clerk had placed before
her several bolts and was now watch
ing her with the same lack of ex
pression. Plainly he w>as expecting
another siege. Perhaps it was this
that goaded Helen into saying quick
ly, almost defiantly:
"No. you needn't show me anything
e L sp . u . Yr > IJ may give me-eight yards
of this Instead of six. I'll cut off
the border.
. ” e ,. meas . ured "ft the lengths and
held the scissors for a moment, as
though expecting her to stop him
. Th cn, with a triumphant
ran them through the silk.
The two extra yards had cost her
six dollars, but she had the silk she
wanted And after that woman had
spent three-quarters of an hour and
then taken only samples, it was al
most worth six dollars to be able
yards"ofThl™ inUteS: '™ tak( “
a mom ? nt later Helen paid
the « i,k and .walked out of the
snop. it was with a pleasing sense
of conscious superiority.
Cubist Models.
"Well." said the artist's wife 'Tt
glad on one account that Reginal
has become a cubist.”
"Why Is that?” her friend aske.
is he making more money than h
did while he was painting real pic
tures ?
"No; he really isn't making a
much, but formerly he had to hlr
girls to act as his models. Now a
he needs is a pile of kindling wood.'
Primeval Reproach.
Adam and Eve were leaving til
Garden of Eden.
"It's all your fault,” said Adam.
"It isn’t, either," replied Ev
"It's your fault. You ought to hav
had us put under civil service so »
couldn’t be turned out.”
HOWTHIS WOMAN
FOUND HEALTH
Would Not Give Lydia E. Pink-
ham's Vegetable Compound
for All Rest of Medicine
in the World.
t •
Utica, Ohio.—"I'suffered everything)
from h female weakness after bahy
came. I had numb
spells and was
dfhzy. had black;
spots before my
eyes. my back
ached and I was
so weak I could
hardly stand up.
My face was yel
low, even my flna
ger nails were
colorless and (
had displacement,
I took Lydia B,
Pinkhams Vege
table Compound and now 1 am stout,
well and healthy. I can do all my
own work and can walk to town and
back and not get tired. I would not
give your Vegetable Compound for
all the rest of the medicines in the
world I tried doctor’s medicines and
they did me no good."—Mrs. Mary
Eariewine. R. F. D. No. 3. Utica,
Ohio.
Another Case.
Nebo, III.—"I was bothered for te
years with female troubles and th
doctors did not help me. I was s
weak and nervous that I could not d
my work and every month I had b
spend a few days in bed. I read si
many letters about Lydia E. Pink
ham's Vegetable Compound curln
female trouble* that I got a bottle
it. It did me more good than any 1
thing else I ever took and now it ha
cured me. I feel better than I hav
for rears and tell everybody wha
the Compound has done for me.
believe I would not be living to-da
but for that.”—Mrs. Hettie Green
street, Nebo, Illinois,
av^i
hate
flai