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)
fT iM, This is
Real Syrup
Just try Velva with this recipe and
see how fine it is. You’ll get flavor
> at its very best and quality at its
j^rr-^ finest There isn’t anything like
Velva for waffles, griddle cakes or
candy, anywhere, by any name—there’s nothing
made that is as good as
in the red can, for making
Wi ^7 candies and baking cakes.
y» jjj i It has more than syrup
jif E3I £ ^ R flavor—it has Velva flavor,
taste it to
mean. Will you? Ten cents up, in clean, sanitary
cans. Velva in the green cans, too, at your
grocer’s. Send for the book of Velva Recipes.
No charge. f
Tapioca and Cream ^
1 cupful Red Velva Svrup. 2 cupfuls cold coffee, t-2
cupful tapioca. 1-4 cupful sugar. 1-4 teaspoon/ulsalt,
l teaspoonful vanilla extract, some whipped cream.
Put the tapioca into a saucepan, add the syrup. / '
coffee, sugar, and salt and cook for 15 Aa .
minutes. Remove from the fire, add / jf wf
the vanilla extract and when cool divide m.,
into glasses. Cover the top with M2?
Charming Modes of the Moment
Described by Olivette, The Georgian s Fashion Expert
WITHIN THE LAW
A Powerful Story of Adventure, Infringe and Love
SYNOPSIS.
Mary Turner, an orphan, employed
in Edward Gilder’s department store,
Is accused of theft and senV to prison,
though innocent. Aggie Lynch, a
convlce friend of Mary’s at Burn
sing. sees good "possibilities” for her
in the world of crime* Upon Mary's
release she is continually hounded,
and in desperation thrown herself into
the 'North River. Joe Garson, a
forger, rescues her and keeps her and
Aggie in luxury, though living chaste
lives. Mary becomes the leader of a
band of swindlers, robbing only the
unscrupulous and keeping alwuys
"within the law.” Gilder’s son Dick
meets and loves Mary, who seeks to
wreak vengeance on the father
through the son. A girl who has been
in prison hears of Mary's charitable
disposition, ealls on her and faints
from want of nourishment. Mary
learns that she is the girl who stole
the goods for which she was con
victed. She is furious, but controls
herself and gives the girl money to go
West and start over. Aggie and Gar-
son then learn that Mary had married
young Gilder that morning. But she
says she won’t live w-itfi him. Mary
is advised by Garson to throw up the
scheme to get back at the father
through the son, but Mary reiterates
her threat of vengeance. Ddek ealls
and tells Mary that he has engaged
passage on the Mauretania, which
sails the next day, but says that he
forgot to mention to his father the
fact that he married Mary. Mary
tells him that she will hold him to his
promise to bring his father to her
and have him wish them happiness,
to which Dick agrees.
Now Go on With the Story
Copyright, 191.1, by the H. K. Fly Com
pany. The play 4 Within the Law” is
copyrighted by* Mr. * Veiller and this
novelization of it is published by bis
permission. The American Play Com
pany Is the sole proprietor of the ex
clusive rights of the representation
and performance of "Within the Law”
in all languages.
By OLIVETTE.
T HE left-hand illustration
shows a gracefully-
draped evening gown in blue
brocade. The bodice and
sleeves are made of pink voile
de soie outlined in single
pearls. The corsage is form
ed of rich embroidery finished
oft' with a jeweled cincture.
The skirt is cut with a rather
ample train. The central fig
ure illustrates a useful walk
ing gown in blue serge with a
slightly-draped skirt; the
small rolled collar and the
entwined bands of trimming
are made of coq de roche
silk; tlie white collar is of
embroidered linen. A simple
morning frock is shown on
the right-hand side of the pic
ture, which is carried out in
leaf-green cachemirc. The
long sleeves arc cut with large
armholes, and a soft lawn
fichu and frills finish the neck
and sleeves. The deep waist
band is a new feature.
Chemically Pure.
A new candidate has announced
himself as standing for nomination
of Mayor of New York in the fol
lowing words:
“I pledge myself to throw into the
gutter at 1 a. m. every morning all
those who do not measure up to my
standard of hypocrisy.”
Now what are you laughing at?
Driven From Home
By BEATRICE FAIRFAX
“M !
Y father and mother have not
Spoken a kind word to each
other in fourteen years on ac
count of some trouble he made by see
ing another woman. He lives in the
front of the house and she lives in the
rear, and they hold no communication
except when they want to argue or quar
rel. I have several brothers and sis
ters, arn<l they are always quarreling
with each other. Naturally they would
be with such an example. I never go
home in the day, and only at nights
when the house is dark and every one
in it is asleep. It is the only way I can
insure peace for myself. There is no
such thing as love in our home, and 1
can’t remember w’hen there ever was.”
This extract is from the letter of a
young man of 21 who says he is in
love with a girl of 23; they have kept
company for eight months and are to
be married in the early fall. He will not
be in position to support her for a few
years, and she will be compelled to re
tain her position downtown. This she
is willing to do, but he wants to know
if under the circumstances he will be
justified in marrying her.
Ordinarily, I should say No. But this
girl understands what a hell his home
has been and loves him enough to long
to use her hands and brain to in^ke him
a new one. He can never develop in
the home of his parents. If there is any
manhood in him it can not grow' under
such conditions, and the sooner he is
transplanted the better for him and for
the girl who loves him.
He owes no duty or gratitude or love
to his parents. He is injuring himself
every day he remains in such a home,
i and is of no benefit to thorn. I would
urge him to leave, though marriage were
not the alternative. How much more
emphatically I urge It when it means a
home where love is?
Means Hard Work.
He may have to work‘hard; there will
be many hardships and privations for
both, out so long as- they love each
other, little else counts. With love and
peace he will have a chance to grow
morally and spiritually and mentally.
The best in him will be developed, and
he will he more of a man at 25 in such
an environment than he would be at 40 If
he remained at home.
When a father and mother discover
they no longer love each other, a dis
covery that is made tragically often,
their first thought should be of how
this discovery will affect the lives of
their children.
If they - are brave enough, strong
enough, and broad enough to go on liv
ing together in outward peace, making
the happiness of their children a great
er consideration than their own, the
children will grow up loving and re
specting them, never suspecting that
the two they love more than all others
in the world do not love each other.
It is a fearful price to pay, but the
rewards are commensurate.
An Alternative.
If, on the other hand, the parents find
such * conditions intolerable, divorce is
the next alternative. Better an open
rupture than to live under the same roof
and wrangle and quarrel Better a
breaking up of the home than the farci
cal semblance of one.
A divorce is decent, dignified and re
spectable compared with living like Kil
kenny cats. Children may love their
parents though they are not living to
gether as man and wife. They may re
spect them and undoubtedly do, but
there can be no respect for them when
they bicker and wrangle and dispute
and quarrel, losing in their uncontrolled
hatred for each other every mark of de
cency.
This young man can not respect
mother or father. I’nless he leaves
home he will learn to have no respect
for any one else and will lose all he has
for himself.
He has a chance to make an ideal
home of his own. May he take it speed
ily, and may there remain with him
only sufficient impress of the hell he is
having to save him from introducing
any element of it in the heaven that lies
before him!
iTHATi
“Blue” Feeling
When you feel dis
couraged and all the
world seems to be
against you- that’s
your system’s way
■ 0 f telegraphing you that something is WRONG and needs HELP.
* xt may be that your liver is tired and refuses to work, of your
5 digestive organs have had too much to do and need care. Perhaps
' hove been eating the wrong kind of food, and your blood is too
rich or impoverished. What you need Ia a tonic.
I Pr. Pierce’s Golden Medical Discovery
B
As It Is in Boston
ill give the required aid. Tones the
made strong. The liver vibrates with
M
■
a
■
B
new life. The blood is cleansed of all
impurities and carries renewed health to every vein and nerve and muscle and
organ of the body. No more attacks of
the ‘•blues.” Life becomes worth while
again,and hope takes place of despair.
Insist on petting Dr. Pierce's
Golden Medical Discovery.
Sold by dealers in medicines.
Priridrnt, World's Diupcvsary
Medical Arrociation, LuJJhlo, N. Y.
They have revised the nursery
rhymes in Boston, and now they have
even gone so far as to rewrite the
prayer. “Now I lay me,” for Boston
children to say. It goes like this;
"Now, O Lord, I retire for the rest
that nature craves,
And reverently place my soul in
Thy high keeping;
Vouchsafe, O Mighty Ruler of the
wind and waves,
To guard me well what time I must
be sleeping.
And if/t>orc bailee, before to-morrow's
light shall break
My soul grow weary of this realm
and leave it
r shore •* whereon the sinless onjy
may awake,
i earnestly beseech Thee to receive
it.” •- - i
By MARVIN DANA from the
Flay by BAYARD VEILLER.
TO-DAY*S INSTALLMENT.
"It seems to me we’re going through a
lot of red tape,” she said spitefully.
Mary, from her chair at the desk, re
garded the malcontent with a smile, but
her tone was crisp as she answered.
“Listen, Agnes. The last time you
tried to make a man give up part.of
his money it resulted in your going to
prison for two years.”
Aggie sniffed, as if such an extreme
were the merest bagatelle.
“But that W’ay was so exciting," she
urged, not at all convinced.
"And this way is so safe," Mary re
joined, sharply. "Besides, my dear, you
would not get the money. My way will.
Your way was blackmail; mine is not.
Understand?”
"Oh, sure,” Aggie replied, grimly, on
her w r ay to the door. "It’s clear as
Pittsburg.” With that sarcasm directed
against legal subtleties, she tripped
daintily out, an entirely ravishing vis
ion, if somewhat garish as to raiment,
and soon in the glances of admiration
that every man cast on her guileless
seeming beauty, she forgot that she had
ever been annoyed.
Garson’s comment as she departed
was uttered with his accustomed blunt
ness.
0 "Solid ivory!’
"She’s a darling, any way!” Mary de
clared, smiling. "You really don’t half
appreciate her, Joe!’’
"Anyhow’, I appreciate that hat,” was
the reply, with a dry chuckle.
"Mr. Griggs," Fannie announced.
There was a smile on the face of the
maid, which was explained a minute
later when, in accordance with her mis
tress’ order, the visitor was shown into
the drawing room, for his presence was
of an elegance so extraordinary as to
attract attention anyw-here—and mirth
as well from ribald observers.
“You Met Him Once.’’
Meantime, Garson had explained to
Mary.
“It’s English Eddie—you met him
once. I wonder w’hat he wants? Prob
ably got a trick for me. We often used
to work together.”
"Nothing without my consent," Mary
warned.
"Oh, no, no, sure not!” Garson agreed.
Further discussion was cut short by
the appearance of English Eddie him
self. a tall, handsome man in the early
thirties, w’ho paused just within the
doorway, and delivered to Mary a bow
that was the perfection of elegance.
Mary made no effort to restrain the
smile caused by the costume of Mr
Griggs. Yet, there was no violation of
the canons of good taste, except in the
aggregate. From spats to “hat, from
walking coat to gloves, everything was
perfect of its kind. Only there was an
over-elaboration, so that the ensemble
was flamboyant. And the man’s man
ners precisely harmonized with his
clothes, whereby the whole effect was
emphasized and rendered bizarre. Gar-
son took one amazed look, and then
rocked with laughter.
Griggs regarded his former associate
reproachfully for a moment, and then
grinned in frank sympathy.
“Really, Mr. Griggs, you quite over
coat 1 me,” Mary said, half apologetic
ally.
The visitor cast a self-satisfied glance
over his garb
“l think its rather neat myself.” He
had some reputation in tho underworld
for his manner of dressing, aiul he re
garded this latest achievement as his
masterpiece.
"Sure some duds!" Garson admitted,
checking his merriment.
"From your costume,” Mary suggest
ed, "one might judge that this is pure
ly a social call. Is it?”
“They Wonder at Crime!’’
"Well, not exactly,” Griggs answered,
with a smile.
"So I fancied," his hostess replied.
"So sit down, please, and tell u.s all
about it."
While she was speaking Garson went
to fhe various doors and made sure that
all wpre shut, then he took a seat in a
chair near that which Griggs occupied
by the desk, so that the three were
close together, and could speak softly.
English Eddie wasted no time in get
ting to the point.
"Now, look here.” he said rapidly,
"I’ve go* the greatest game in the world.
• * * Two iears ago a set of Gothic
tapestries worth $300,000 and a sat of
Fragonard panels worth nearly as much
more were plucked from a chateau in
Frapce ami smuggled Into this coun
try.”
”1 have never heard of that," Mary
said with some interest.
"No,” Griggs replied. ’’You naturally
wouldn’t, for the simple reason that It’s
been kept on the dead quiet.”
"Are them things really worth that
much?” Garson exclaimed.
"Sometimes more.” Mary answered.
"Morgan has a set of Gothic tapestries
worth half a million dollars."
Garson uttered an .ejaculation of dis
gust.
"He pays half a million dollars for
set of rugs!” There was a note of
fiercest bitterness come into his voice as
he sarcastically concluded: "And they
wonder at crime!”
Griggs went on with his account.
"About a month ago the things
was tellitig you of were hung .in t
library of a millionaire in this city.
I He hitched his chair a little closer
to the desk, and leaned forward, low-
j cring his voice almost to n whis-
! per as he stated hi? plan.
“I^et’s £0 after them. They were
i smuggled, mind you, and no matter
what happens, he can’t squeal. What
do yop say?"
Garson shot a piercing glance at
Mary.
"It’s uj>. to her.” he said. Gr!gg9
regarded Mary eagerly, as she sal
with eyes downcast. Then, after a
j little interval’had elapsed in lienee,
he spoke interrogatively:
"Well?”
i Mary shook her head decisively.
I 'It's out or our line," she declared.
Griggs would have argued the mat
ter. “I don’t see any easier way to
get a half million,” he said aggres
sively
Mary, however, was unimpressed.
“If it were fifty million? it would
make no difference. It's against tho
law."
Paintings That Are Amazing Europe
Why I hey Call Wilhelm Kuhnerl the World's Greatest Animal Painter
Mary Interrupted Him.
"Oh, I know all that, of course.”
Griggs* returned impatiently. "Rut
if you can—”
Mary interrupted him in a tone of
finality'.
"My friends and I never do any
thing that’s illegal! Thank you for
coming to us. Mr. Griggs, but we can’t
go in. and there’s an end of the
matter."
"But wait a minute,” English Ed
die expostulated, "you see this chap,
Gilder, is—”
Mary’s manner changed from in
difference to sudden keen interest.
"Gilder?” ?he exclaimed, question-
ly.
“Yes. You know who he is.” Griggs
answered; "the dry goods man.”
Garson in his turn showed a new
excitement as he bent towarif Mary.
"Why. it’s old Gilder, the man
you—”
Mary, however, had regained her
^•elf-control, for a moment rudely
shaken, and now her voice was tran
quil again as she replied:
“I know. But, just the same, it’s
illegal, and 1 wo^’t touch it. That’s
all there is to it.”
Griggs was dismayed.
"But half a million!” he exclaimed,
disconsolately. "There’s a stake worth
playing for. Think of it!” He turned
pleadingly to Garson. "Half a mil
lion. Joe!”
The forger repeated the words with
an inflection that was gloating.
“Half a million!’’
“And it's the softest thing you ever
saw.”
The telephone at the desk rang,
and Mary spoke into it for a mo
ment. then rose and excused herself
to resume the conversation over the
wire more privately in the booth. Tin-
instant she was out of the room
Griggs turned to Garson anxiously:
“It Looks Easy.”
• It's a cinch, Joe." he pleaded. "I’ve
got a plan of the house." He drew
a paper from hi? breast-pocket, and
handed it to the forger, who seized
it avidly and studied it with intent,
avaricious eyes.
“It looks easy.” Garson agreed, as
he gave back the pappr.
“It is easy,” Griggs reiterated.
“What do you say?”
Garson shook his head in refusal,
hut there was no conviction in the
act.
“I promised Mary never to—”
Griggs broke in on him.
“But a chance like 'this! Anyhow,
come around to the back room at
Blinkey’s to-night and we'll have a
talk. Will you?" •
“What time?” Garson asked hesi
tatingly, tempted.
“Make • it early, say 9,” was the
answer. “Will you?”
Til come.” Gerson replied, half
guiltily. And in the same moment
Mary re-entered
Griggs rose and spoke with an air
of regret.
“It's ‘follow the leader,’” he said,
“and since you are against it, that
settles it."
“Yes. T’m against it,” Mary said,
firmly.
“I’m sorry.” English Eddie rejoined
“But we must all play the game ns
we see it. * * * Well, that was the
business I was after, and, ns it’s
finished, why, good-afternoon. Miss
Turner." He nodded toward Joe, and
took his departure.
Something of what was In his mind
was revealed in Garson’s first speech
after Griggs’ going.
“That's a mighty big stake he’s
playing for.”
A Big Chance.
“And a big chance he’s taking.”
Mary retorted. “No, we don’t want
any of that. We’ll play a game that’s
safe and sure.”
The words recalled to the forger
weird forebodings that had been trou
bling him throughout the day.
‘‘It’s sure enough,” he stated, “but is
it safe?’’
Mary looked up quickly.
"What do you mean?” she demand
ed.
Garson walked to and fro n«?rvous-
ly as he answered.
“S’pose the bulls get tired *f you
putting it over on 'em and try soit.ie
rough work?"
Mary smiled carelessly.
"Don’t worry. Joe,” she advised. “I
know a way to stop it."
"Well, so far as that goes, so do
1." the forger said, with significant
emphasis.
Just what do you mean by that?”
Mary demanded, suspiciously.
"For rough work," he said, "I have
this.” He took a magazine pistol from
his pocket. It was of an odd shape,
with a barrel longer than is usual and
a bell-shaped contrivance attached t >
the muzzle.
"So. no. Joe,” Mary cried, greatly
discomposed. "None of that-ever!”
(On Top) “A Lioness and Cubs,” (Bottom) “Lions Resting.”
T HESE pictures are of paintings by Herr Wil
helm Kuhnert, which are included among
many others by the famous animal painter that
are at present on exhibition in London. Crowds
flock every day to the galleries of the Fine Arts
Society, there to gaze in wonder at the studies of
animal life that have come from the brush of
Kuhnert. He was horn on September 28,1865, and
studied at the Berlin Academy. Kuhnert’s great
claim to fame, according to art experts, is that
lie has not been content with caged creatures,
but has mastered the great essential, “local at
mosphere.”
“Dangerous” Age for Married Women
By VIRGINIA TERHUNE VAN DE WATER.
'HAT is the dangerous ;t^
was asked of a group of
people. Several answers were given —
answers promoted by observation, ex
perience, or, as is sometimes the case
with talkative person?, by ignorance.
One opinion was that the dangerous
age for a wife is when she is so young
as to be attractive to the opposite sex,
and while she is still learning that the
man of her choice is not all her fancy
painted him in the way of perfection
—her very disappointment making her
susceptible to attentions shown her by
other men. Another speaker declared
that the dangerous age is that in
which a woman is caring for her little
children as any diversion, instead of
the drudgery of the nursery nssuYnes
undue importance in her still young
eyes.
To my way of thinking, neither of
those statements is correct as applied
to the majority of women who do have
what has been called a “dangerous
age.” I firmly believe that there are
many wives who never have such a
period to ruffle the calm of their wed
ded lives. They are normal, clear
headed or unemotional women, who
either do not demand great devotion
from their husbands, or who are so
sure of the love of their liege lords,
and so deeply in love with them, that
they are safe from all outside influ
ences. There are other women who
are incapable of excitement and of
deep regrets or great anticipations,
and these, too, are in little danger.
But to return to the opinions ex
pressed as to the dangerous age. The
person who stated that the first few
years of married life were the most
unsafe for women hardly looked deep
enough. These years are, it is true,
filled with conflicting emotions; the
wife does find that her husband is not
perfection and she must also learn to
adjust herself to a new seheme of ex
istence, to bear and forbear, to ac
commodate her views to those of her
life-companion. But at the same time
many of these experiences are so new
as to bring with them a kind of pleas
urable exritement, a sense of personal
importance, an appreciation that one
is now meeting the trials of which One
has been told by other matrons, and
for which one is. therefore, to a cer
tain extent, prepared. Moreover, one
is still young enough and pretty
enough to see the look of ad mi rati in
in the eyes of one’s husband, ami one
finds happiness in that look.
Care for Children.
With the second opinion -that the
years when a woman is caring for
her little children constitute th«* dan
gerous age—I do not at all agree. Tho
woman who really loves her small
children find- in her care of them so
much to occupy hands and heart that
ner thought? have little time to stray
into ways "dark and dim,” She may
be tired she may be neglectful of lv^r
husband, she may find that getting
•jp early to dress the babies, sitting
ip late to fashion their garments, and
waking often in the night to minister
!o their wants is monotonous work,
hut it is al?o such a time-absorbing
and body-wearing occupation that tin
mother feels little inclination to g.
abroad or to mingle in society. If
she has the wish to do this, she has
no the leisure in which to gratify it.
The person who watches women.
and thinks as she watches, must,
sooner or later, agree that Karin
Michaeli?, when she wrote her book,
“Tlie Dangerous Age," was not far
wrong in suggesting that this age
comes when a woman has ceased to
be so young that she attracts the ad
miration which was once hers, yet is
tung enough to long for it still.
“Ah!” sighed a woman in my hear
ing. "Youth! It is the loveliest thing
m all the world!”
I looked at her with a sen?e of pity.
Her own youth had meant to her ad
miration from men, attentions which
she had received as a matter of
course. In fact, she had taken them
is her right until they began to
lessen. Now she had “touched up”
her hair where it was beginning to
turn gray; she had put on her cheeks
so mucl
i rouge t
hat it
callc
•d atten-
tion to
th-
p fact
that tl
here
must be
a pallor
which s
ihe wa
s ?t
riving to
hide. While the
color
«>n
hair and
face w<
*re
vivid
, yet
they
seemed
when one
looked
; at h'
er e
yes* like
badges (
)f
mourni
ng for
a lo
st youth.
She w
as
at the
dange
rous
age. I n
vears s
he
W8 s.
perhuj
>s, 3
8 or 40.
’That is
n
ot old!
” some
one
exclaims.
No, it is
; n
ot. but
neithe
r is
it young.
Her bus
ba
nd still
loved
tier-
-but in a
practica
1.
middle-
•aged
way,
without
enthusia
sn
i; her
child l
en
were old
enough to look out for themselves;
her sons, daughters, husband and
friends took Her for granted. Men,
who can do as they please, and can
admire women and talk pretty noth
ings to them even when they—the
men—ar** old enough to know better,
tan hardly appreciate what this tran
sition period means to a woman.
The woman who has always re
ceived admiration and attention finds
it hard to cease to struggle. And if,
while she is still trying to hold fast
to that which is slipping from her,
she meets a man who, through lack
of principle, sheer depravity, or—and
this is quite possible, especially if tho
man be very young—genuine admira
tion, suceeds in making her think that
he loves her, she, even if she be a
moral woman, may find that she is
not as sure of herself and her princi
ples as she thought she was. She
may mistake flattered vanity for love,
in which case she will turn from it
with regret or grasp it and later be
ashamed of it.
The woman for whom the so-called
dangerous fige has no pitfalls is the
wife who loves her husband and who
has filled her life so full of things
that are worth while that she has for
gotten to seek admiration and has
stifled a large portion of the vanity
that demands gratification.
To Be Continued To-morrow.