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PUE(E SILI^ GLOVES
When you buy silk
gloves, buy the best.
silk gloves
cost no more but wear best.
The finger tips are double,
and each pair contains a
guarantee ticket which in
sures you satisfaction.
I£ yonr de.ler cannot supply
you, send us his name. We
will supply you through him.
Niagara Silk Mills
North Ton«wooii«, N. Y.
N«wYork Boston
Chicago San Franclaco
One of the
Samples
A Romance of Great Wealth and the Game
of Finance as Played by Money Kings
THE FIVE FRANKFORTERS
A Nocelizalion oj the Successful Play of the
Same Name Now Running in New York.
By BEATRICE FAIRFAX.
r | 'HR little girl of this story was
± one of the Sample girls, a large
family of which you doubtless
have heard many times. Her baptis
mal name Is immaterial, hut we will
call her Grace, that being Just the sort
of name for a girl who was so sweet
hnd 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 pleasant home.
She dressed quickly and nervously
!l" Y™"" ""dins vent in the man
ner In Which she Jerked on one gar-
wto a £ ter an ° ther snapping off a
hce and tearing a rent where
each nm ad ''?j ls ' ht in another plaee.
h little accident adding fuel to her
,wrath till. by the time she had dress -
- 1 , a P d ready for breakfast, it
had burst into full flame.
Mother always understands, and the
mother of Grace understood. Indeed
ahe 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
Uy work, and when she reached the
8he opened her typewriter desk
with the same resentful bang she had
given the door when she left home
f Sh ®J ook her dictation carelessly and
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 cared, 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 wMth a
growing dislike for every one in it.
She knew .lust how the family would
Jook, what they would say and what
there would be for supper; every
familiar detail of the home appeared
memory as something unbearably
' hideous.
She was tired, she was bored, she
even, as she opened the door of h<*r
hpme, wished she were dead, and the
Sullen tones in which she gave a curt
‘'Yes" to ’ her mother’s cheerful in
quiry of “Is 1 that you, Grace?” bore
out her mother's mental diagnosis
of her case in the morning.
h'Jt is a very good thing for every
one to occasionally take a thought
bath, and had Grace taken one that
day she would have found that the
fault lay not with others, but with
herself. Her temper, her morbidness
aud her selfishness all had their ori
gin in overtaxed nerves.
. And this thought bath might have
revealed to her that she hadn’t over
taxed her nerves in giving pleasure to
others, but in seeking it for herself.
A Mistaken Thought.
She was confined in an office aM
* av, and with the blindness of youth
thought that pursuit of pleasure at
mght meant rest. The evenings she
spent at home were devoted to read
ing highly seasoned fiction till a late
hour instead of good, wholesome
books till a reasonable hour and th n
going to bed. Or she invited in a tew
{Fiends who came at 9 instead of at v
and. stayed till midnight instead of till
jO, 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 t>
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 wae
burning the candle at both ends, an
jUuminatlon .that is the funeral py
of the grace, the charm, the strengt i
the freshness of youth.
Are yoii. my dear, like Grace?
you one of the Sample girls?
Use Cottolene
for cooking
What Has Gone Before,
Having backed heavily the peace of
Europe Nathan Rothschild is discon
certed to find that Napoleon has
hurst forth again, and all the hank
er s outpouring of gold for national
development in England will he en-
d^ n g' ,r ed. The hanker hastens to
" aterlho. There are the English,
who have guaranteed to him that the
peace of Europe shall he maintained.
From a height above the field of bat
tle Rothschild sees the whole of it.
Rothschild sees that the wealth of
the world lies in London, his for the
taking it he can be first on the
ground with the news of the battle.
He hurries to London, and next
morning appeared on the Exchange.
I hat night he went to bed $10,000
000 richer.
years later a great banker
loft Vienna, another Naples, another
I’aris and another London, and trav
eled to a little old house in Jews'
I.ane, in Frankfort-am-Main. It
was a gathering of the house of
Rothschild. Perhaps some king was
very hard pressed for money.
Now Go on With the Story.
When you shorten or fry your
food with butter it ts needless
extravagance. Butter is too ex-
> pensive for use anywhere but
on vour table. If butter were
really better, would produce
better results in cooking, you
would be justified ih using it,
but it won't.. Cottolene is fully
the equal of butter for shorten
ing; it is better for frying. It
makes food rich, but not greasy,
because it heats to a higher tem
perature than lard or butter,
anil cooks so quickly that the
Fat has no chance to “soak in.
Cottolene is more healthful than
lard, and you only need to use
e,vo-thirds as much as you
would of either bid ter or lard.
When you
stop to consider ^ N
that the price ([ ——_ u
of Cottolene is
no more than ft&jj'dC'l-.r
the price of
la rd yon can
readily figure
pat what a sav-
> 'g its use in
your kitchen
^eans.
THEN.K. FAIRBANKCOMPANY
By KATHRYN KEY.
Copyright, 1913, by the New York Even
ing Journal Publishing Company.
“Do ypu live in Paris?” she in
quired.
He nodded. "My business keeps
me there.’’
“And you are a friend of famous
composers: ’
“Shall I introdnee myself—for
mally ?” he smiled.
The girl held up an imperative
finger. ‘Wait—I will guess. Are
you little Jacob?”
kittle Jacob’s laugh rang through
the house and the girl’s silvery voice
Joined in so that Frau Gudula heard
them afar and smiled.
“Now, it is your turn to guess.’
cried the girl, putting up her glow
ing face as if to give him plenty
of opportunity for inspection. Jacob
thought it an excellent opportunity
for a number of things that he had
considered somewhat frivolous up to
this time, but which now assumed
an entirely disproportionate import
ance. He felt unwonted Stirrings in
his chest, a phenomenon that he dis
covered to be due to certain remark
able performances on the part of his
heart.
“You don't belong to Frankfort.”
he said with a conviction that was
not complimentary to the staid old
city.
“Well—no,” admitted the girl.
“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.
“Or one of the family,” she sug
gested softly.
“No, no,” declared Jacob, with a
conviction that placed the Roth
schilds in the same category with
bra nkfort.
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
ught to say he heard his grand
mother behind him.
“Well. Jacob, have you made
friends?” she asked, beaming upon
him.
“He doesn’t know, quite, whether
I’m a fit person for his friendship,”
put in Charlotte, wickedly.
"Why, Jacob!” exclaimed his grand
mother with indignation. “This is
Solomon’s Charlotte—from Vienna!”
Charlotte, watching his face, burst
into another mefry peal of laughter,
tint his moment of revenge was at
hand.
“Goodness knows what he might
uive thought of me if you hadn’t
■ ►me in, Grannie!” she laughed, as
Jacob’s confusion grew.
“Give your cousin a kiss. Jacob,”
ommanded the old iadv. And never
as a grandmother obeyed with
eater alacrity. But Charlotte drew
o k and got the table between them.
!] the confusion on her side now.
i)o cousins kiss—in Paris?” she
skerl, doubtfully.
“What an idea!” exclaimed the
Nathan filled in the hiatus with a
shake of the head.
"Guarantees must be made that he
changes his habits,’’ insisted Holo-
mon.
“How?” inquired the Londoner.
“By his marriuge,” was the prompt
reply.
“To whom?”
Solomon again gave each face in
the circle a quick glance. Then he
stepped forward as if inviting the
storm, and said in a cOol, stead
voice:
Little Bobbie’s
Pa
Jacob Sprang Up.
Presently There Entered a Girl Who Looked Like a Princess.
frau "In my timo we held out our
cheek and blushed."
Charlotte could not be found guilty
of dlsobedleVp"' on thejgcofe of blush
ing, and for Nv 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 the
family conference that evening. Atn-
schel, ponderous, uncrossed .and
crossed his legs.
“Have you collected the family to
give them a day in the country?” he
inquired, mildly.
“You will see 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?” he asked.
Solomon gazed about the circle of
solemn and frowning faces and
chuckled.
“I believe you are getting impa
tient!” he cried, good-naturedly.
“Yes. of course,” retorted Nathan,
from the edge of hi? lip.
Solomon fished a large envelope out
of his pocket and held it up.
“Do you wonder why I brought all
of you here?” he cried. “Well, here
is one of the reasons. What do you
think of it?”
They Get a Title.
Nathan stirred with impatience*
"Need we waste any more tjme?” he
asked coldly.
"No. not a moment,” declared Sol
omon. dramatically. “This is a pres
ent for ail of us”—he turned to his
mother with a bow and added: “Bar
oness!”
The-mf-n starred fotfwa >irt ihe'lt
....
'Barone#*?, he went ewi in d "loud
tone, ”1 have the honor to hand yOu
a patent of nobility from the Chan
cery of State in Vienna—which raises
us all 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;
" r then it was broken by'an explo-
•1t#:
port my word!”
■'Children,, children,” filtered the
old woman. “I can not see clearly —
read it for me—-one of you.”
“I Must Laugh.” ,r ’
Nathan sprang up and took the pa
per.
“Yes,” he said, solemnly, while .Carl
peered over his shoulder.and., Ajnschd
stared stupidly, “the Emperor has fie-
stowed on us the rank of baron.” Car!
snatched, the pappr and Nathan held
out Ms hand to the master of the-gffr*
“Solomon, voni did that wpH;” lie
said, generously. -
“Well; mother, what have yoO to
s&y?£ eri.ed Solomon, with ai dhvid
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-, oh era elf and .her
voice grew grave arid solemn. “I am
very proud—Very glad for aif your
sake?. Your dear father would have
been so pleased—-only^-vod* 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 sees} -greatly impressed by the
k|onqr donaJiSi-edii. v -.-.. k
“1 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—
but we now have a sign- of our suc
cess which every one will recognize.”
If was characteristic orf Salomon
that he dismissed his daughter from
the conference before he took up
j even the matter of the price of the
I title.
This,’ It developed, was in the shape
of a loan which would never be re
paid. It was suggested that each of
the five pay an equal share, but Frau
Gudula insisted that it be divided into
six shares. “I pay for my own,”, she
declared. -
“So be it, then,” said Solomon.
! “There isr another matter that I want
l to disepss with you. You all know
[the y^ung Duke of Taunus—at least
j by rfputfition.*
i “By reputation—or the want of it,”
remarked Carl. .
“I know bis signature," said Am-
schol •grimly, ■
. “I saw him once as a Child—a
handsome boy," the frau remember
ed. . •' V
! “He fp often in Paris,” contributed
Jacob, “t have seen him sometimes
- and one often hears of him. He
enjoys fife.”
“He has been to my house in Vien
na,” sard Solomon, with a little swell
oi pride in his tone. “He has charm
ing manners. He was very polite to
Charlotte.”
Unhappy Outsiders in Conjugal Spats
By Virginia T. Van De Water.
T HIS is a plea for the outsider—
the unfortunate person who
must hear the disagreeable
things thkt some husbands and wives
say to each other.
T 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 makes the
unwilling listener. Surely the parties
to a conjugal spat can hardly appre
ciate the sensations of the bystander
who, through no fault of his own. Is
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
what they are. They will quarrel, so
you may as well reconcile yourself to
that fact.”
1 am not disputing his statement—
at feast not just now. Whether he Is
right or not is. as Kipling would sav,
I “another story.” and one with which
we may deal at some other time. The
natter against which I wish to pro
test at present is not that husband
and wife say disagreeable things to
j oaeh other, but that they say them
where, others have to hear them. It
( is. perhaps, none of my business if
they quarrel when alone; it is my
business if they quarrel in mg pres
ence. But they sometimes do! And
there are many other people who are
forced to be witnesses to many a con-
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
does not seem to move you to change
the habit,” sneered the husband.
“And so long as you take satisfac
tion in nagging me about it I 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
werec ujicoowelouw that they wore
guilty of a bTeaeh of one of the first
rules of• hospitality, namely, that
should >*e, kind to the *gu©»t umbfer
one’s rppf*. They, were .truly .more un
kind to the vtritof find iff to eutfn’other
They were •■used to ‘their aitoflrat ioyrs.
He was not. • ■ -j
Both Sorry and Vexed.
A certain husband* has strict notions
and disapproves of decollete towns-~
nor does hemire trains. Ills wife
wears both. I was present-last, wee.k
when* ip crossing tije .room,- he .trod
Some Worth While Stories
Juu.tl interchange of discourtesies.
| Embarrassed Guests.
“You’re late, as usual!” exclaimed
a man, as his wife hurried into the
drawing room, where one of the
guests whom she had invited to her
NO COMPETITION.
When it conies to bad handwriting,
says the Popular Magazine, the two
men who have beaten all others In
this regard in the entire United Sfatc?
for the last twenty years are Joaquin
Miller, the poet, and Samuel G. Blythe,
the humorist. And only Blythe sur
vives.
A LIFTED LOAD.
Just after Governor B. B Comet,
of Alabama, had won his election, fol
lowing a long, hard struggle for the
job. hi? friends were congratulating
him and one remarked:
“I .suppose this is* the happiest day
of your iife, Governor.”
“No,” replied the Governor, who is
said to he worth more than a mil
lion dollars. "I shall never forget
the happiest moment of my life. Til
tell you about it. For five years af-
i-
ter* my marriage Mrs. • Comer and I
had'a Hard time making trliving. Wc
were trying to buy a little horn*} anjV-
it was a. lough fight. The fifty. .she
a.n<i L went.-to pay* the last .- note oil
that small bouse was the happvq»L>>T
my lkl<*. I nev*T h|av# an
other like it.” .. r,
BANK CLERKS.
W. J.-Burns, ffie famous'detecHve.
says that ift rttord ttfhn twenfy years
of his Jbni.ection with* the^Yfov'erif-
ment secret Servian he has • not
“turned up” a single counterfeit.
“All the cfhdir for discovering
Cminterfhjt money.” says - Mr. Burns,
“belong to fh>* bank cierks of this
country. There is nrtria porsrrrf, yo'ung
or <•’<!.' w ho no! ^ •• ^ ■ jU-lr
gratitude to* ■ itrtVf: Hffa *'* ■■ •* ■■ •
clerks <vho tfre always ''on their jdb,’’
and whose keen discernment fcoeps
pur currency clear of counterfeits'’
on her dress. She started angrily.
“Ldok out!” she exclaimed. “You’re
’theading on my gown! Don’t be so
dlumsy!”
‘•■VUfil,” exclaimed her lord and mas
ter (?), “if you would take some, of
lhat dress up off the floor and put it
oYrnlnd your shoulders, where it would
do -srrrm* good, it would be less in the
way'of sensible people!” a
• 1 fried to look as if I were not un
comfortable, as if' I were not listening
and as if J were not lots of thing?
tnat 1 was. For I was wretched and
painfully embarrassed. I have a fatal
facility for seeing any quarrel from
the standpoint df both contestants,
find in this case 1 was sorry for the
woman and for her husband, and at
Jhfi- same time vexed with both of
them. Moreover. I felt that they were
'Welting in consideration for me and
my feeling*—In fact, that they were
SClfieh.
Unhappy Outsiders.
Selfishness becomes cruelty when
the outsider is dragged into a onju-
gal’ spat and the husband or wife ap-
perfls to her for confirmation or refu
tation bf sb'me statement which* has
caused dispute. What ran the un
happy outsider do? If she agree? with
eit her'person 1 She “gets in wrong” with
the other. Moreover, she may see
that both nhe in error (for was there
ever a quarrel in which either person
was absolutely right (?). but if she
dares to suggest this both will con
demn her as lacking the courage to
tell the truth or declare herself on the
side of justice.
fto there she stands, a miserable
victim Of a wrangle between married
peoplf—and she not one of them. This
i Inst reflecrh fi may bi; the one Com Tor
.-»he has* Yet it is rather hard to
suffT for the quarrels of matri
mony when tli* matrimony has been
nuhe of one's own making.
He looked keenly at the others as
bo 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.
Amschel nodded feelingly. They
say he has more creditors than sub
jects.”
“When he came home after Napo
leon’s abduction,’’ went on Solomon,
“he rode through triumphal arches—
to an empty treasury. Perhaps, too,
he has been foolish as well as un
fortunate. Now he is anxious to put
his house in order. He has ap
proached me with regard to a loan.”
A Big Loan Requested.
“For how much?” asked the oldest
brother.
Solomon hesitated, then tlvew a
quick look about the circle.
Twelve million florins,” h 1 re
plied quietly.
None spoke until Nathan asked, in
his weary manner: “How will he
pay?"
“I have thought out a scheme of
payments to extend over 40 years.”
“And if the payments are not kept
up?” suggested Carl.
“Solomon waved his hand. “Of
course I should insure against that.
I can explain my plan.”
Amschel stared thoughtfully at the
floor. “If he is a spendthrift, as they
say—“”
"It is surely too risky—too risky,”
put in Carl, decidedly.
“With a roan to whom extrava
gance has become second nature”—
to the
Ad
vice
Lovelorn
“With my daughter, Charlotte.”
Jacob sprang up and gripped the
back of his grandmother’s chair. The
old lady’s jaw fairly dropped and she
stared at her son as at a maniac.
Nathan and Carl merely sat motion
less- and looked. Amschel, the most
truly phlegmatic of all, was first to
speak.
“The Duke of Taunus marry Char
lotte?”* he said with placid scorn.
“It is absurd.”
Solomon W'inced slightly.
“1 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 rhe!” 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!”
He paused, and Amschel spoke
gravely.
“We will think the matter over.”
“I have thought it over,” retorted
Solomon, grimly, thrusting out his
chin. “To-morrow I am going to
take Charlotte for a drive—to Neu-
stadt Castle. I should like one of you
to come with me.”
“We must think—we must think it
over" said Nathan, evasively, as the
appeal seemed directed to him. “Carl
—Amschel, let us 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 wor
rled—I want to distract my thoughts.”
“Uncle,” srtfd the. young man. sol
emnly, “you have forgotten some
thing. You've l*ft one very impor
tant thing out of your calculations.’
“What is that?” demanAed 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 oneq. Why
should she hot he happy with him?
—because he is a prince? How ab
surd! Why, she might marry a bank
clerk and be just as miserable! Don’t
you agree with me, mother?”
“No, I don’t!” was the unexpected
reply, with unexrwcted 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 rose slowly and faced them.
Her face, was pale and her eyes burn
ed with a strange fire. They could
hear her breathing in the stillness.
“Children, you terrify me.” she
cried, but she did not look terrified—
only «tem and immovable “My
grandfather came from Neustadt 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. You hoys,
with your wealth and influence, may
accomplish even this—but not with
my consent! It is impossible."
Hhe walked siowly to the door and
turned again. “For the first firm* In
this old house of our* I withdraw
from a family conference. I’ll have
no hand in this affair. Do as you
please—but keep me out of It!”
To Be Continued To-morrow.
By WILLIAM F. KIRK
P OOR pa, he got pinched yester
day by a giiim warden. It is
the first time that Pa ewer got
ar.ested, A he felt vary bad about It.
He was hanging his hed all the morn-
| Ing at brekfust to-day, & wen he
started for the littel postoffice to see
if thare was any mail for him or Ma
or me, he aed: Deer wife, look long
upon my countenance, for you may
newer see me aggen. I feel as if
sumthing terrlbul was goftig to hap
pen to me aggen to-day.
Oh, 1 doant think so, sed Ma. Sure
ly, after beelng arrested one day Fate
wuddent be so unkind as to hand you
anything raw the next day. It can
not be. Now, go to the postofflee,
deer, brave man that you are, & see
if you got any checks with extra
money in them, as I need a cuppel of
plain, simpel frocks to ware wile we
are rusti-kating here in thi* butiful
littel hamlet.
I doant see what, you want of two
plain, aimpel frocks, sed Pa, to ware
up here. Why doant you ware sum
of yure old frocks? Your plain, sim
pel frocks will cost as much as toe
fancy one you ware in the city. Look
at me A littel Bobble, sed Pa. About
all that we ware up here is a pair of
plain, simpel overalls A sum shoes.
But newer mind, we shall $ee, Good
bye, deer. & remember what I tell
you—i have a premoniahun. Then Pa
went. •
The way Pa happened to get
pinched was kind of funny after all.
It was a good Joak on him, & after he
had paid his fine Ma toald him. that it
served him rite for trying to be a boy
.comic. It was like this.
How It Was.
Pa A me started out erly in the
morning to catch sum rao&r trouts.
We went to a littel stream called
Horse Brook, neer Bob Hardie’s farm.
This is a grate morning. Bobble, sed
Pa; the wind is from the southwest &
thare is a sort of haze in the air. al
most as if it was Jnjun summer. The
condlShuns are ideel for trouts to bite,
sed Pa. I anticipate sum rare sport.
We started to fish. & all the fore
noon T’a had all th#* lock. T fished
in sum of the saim places that he
did, but the trouts dtdent seem to
care for the worms wich was on my
hook, or else thay was afrade thay
wud drag h littel boy like me into
the water. Anyhow, thay dident bit
for me at all. & then Pa wud cum
along & throw into the saim place
(v catch three or four nide- big ones.
Doant be down harted, littel boy,
sed Pa. Much moar experienced
anglers than you are have tried to
catch fish with me, & in the end l
have forced all of them to bow thare
heds in shalm & walk slowly away.
Few men indeed can hope to vie with
me in luring the finny tribe from
thare lair. Pa sed. <fc then he kep on
bragging & catching moar fish.
After a long while I got a grate
big trout on my line Sr I was gifting
him out all rite by mlself, but Pa
had to butt in with his landin net t**
help me wen l dident need any help
& he knocked the fish off my line.
I was so mad I cud almost aware bfit
I dident say anything. The fish
gone Si that was all thare was to it.
He Gets One.
Jest befoar we quit fishing I
caught a littel three inch trout. I
was going to put It back in the
water, but Pa sed Wait a minnit,
Bobbie. I harve a plan. Put the littel
fl»h in yure litte! basket, a will
explain the plan wen we git neer
hoam.
Wen we got neer hoam Pa gaiv
me his big basket to carry witli all
his big trouts, & he took my littel
basket with the one littel trout in it.
We will walk into the village St to
the hotel this way & I will show the
littel trout to yure mother & you
show her all the big ones & tell her
that you caught them. That will be
a good Joak on her, Pa sed.
Just then a man calm up tt> Pa &
sed Any luck?
Indifferent, sed Pa, & he kep walk
ing.
Let me look In that basket, he sed
to Pa, Sl he looked & saw the littel
three inch trrait A he. sed That will
cost you $2f> 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, l toald the man,
but he sed he wuddent. Look at all
the nice big ones I caught, I sed to
the man, he was a game warden. I
threw all my littel ones back. Pa
looked at me like spanking sounds
Sc feels. But he dident have the $25
with him. so he had to be arrested
till I cud go to the hotel to git it.
Ma made lota of fun of Pa. She
sed she wud maik him a striped fish
ing sute.
By BEATRICE FAIRFAX.
TAKE THE ONE YOU LOVE.
D ear miss Fairfax:
I am 20 and have been
meeting a young man three years
my senior about two years. He
tells me he loves me very much
and if I would ever meet another
man it would break his heart.
Three months ago I fell in Ibve
with another man who wants me
to marry him. I love him more
than the first man. Do you think
I 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
SEND HIM AWAY.
D ear miss Fairfax:
\ young man loved a girl,
but was too bashful to tell her
so. She loved him also, but act
ed very coldly to him. So hf
told her chum everything, and
she told the girl, who was de
lighted. As she Is coming back
in three weeks, would you ad
vise her to speak to him or send
him away? She loves him very
dearly, but is only 17, while he is
19.
You are both too young—so young
there Is every prospect that when the
three weeks are up you both will have
changed your minds.
"ft*