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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 Do You Wanf White Skin ? n DLE wishing never yet * changed an ugly com plexion. Do something Find the remedy. There 1* a rem edy for every evil. If you have a very’ dark, coarse, swarthy looking skin TRY Dr. Palmer’a Skin Whitener T^here is no doubt whatever shout its marvelous whiten ing effect upon a dark, sallow complexion, and It makes ths fkln soft and clear. Of course you won’t believe this unless you try It. But one box will show you how easy it Is to improve your complex- ion* 26c postpaid anywhere Good agents wanted in every t;wn. Write far terms. FOR SALE BY , All Jacobs’ Stores ^ And Druggists Generally. 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