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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*