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£30
Charming Modes of the Moment
Described by Olivette, The Georgian's Fashion Expert
WITHIN THE LAW
A Powerful Story of Adventure, lntringe and Love
Paintings That Are Amazing Europe
Why They Call Wilhelm Kuhncrt the World's Greatest Animal Painter
n
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
finest. There isn’t anything like
Velva for waffles, griddle cakes or
there’s nothing
candy, anywhere, by any name
made that is as good as
In the red can, for making
candies and baking cakes.
It has more than syrup
flavor—it has Velva flavor,
that makes telling about it
impossible. You must
taste it to know what we
By OLIVETTE.
*~'HE left-hand illustration
nr''he
1 si
SYNOPSIS.
Mary Turner, an orphan, employed
in Edward Gilder’s department afore,
is accused ol theft and sent to prison,
though innocent. Aggie Lynch, a
con vice friend of Mary’s at Burn
sing, sees good "possibilities” for tyer
In the world of crime. Upon Mary’s
release she is continually hounded,
and in desperation throws herself Into
the North River. .Joe Garson, a
forger, rescues her and keeps her and
Aggie in luxury, though living chaste
live-*. Mary becomes the leader of a
band of swindlers, robbing only the
unscrupulous and keeping always*
"within she 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, calls on her and faints
from want of nourishment. Mary
learns that she Is the girl who stole
the gooes for which she was con
victed. She is furious, but controls
herself ana 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 with him. JMary
Is advised by Garson to throw (ip the
scheme to get back at the father
through the son, but Mary reiterates
her threat of vengeance. Dick calls
and tells Mary that lie haa engaged
passage on the Mauretarna. 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
.:. Driven From Home
By BEATRICE FAIRFAX.
shows a gracefully-
<1 raped 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
off 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 cop de roche
silk; the 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 cachemire. The
long sleeves are 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 lty
standard of hypocrisy."
Now what are you laughing at.
( ( ~m n 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, and 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 dask and every one
in it is asleep. Tt is the only w’ay I can
insure peace for myself. There is no
such thing as love in our home, and 1
can’t remember when 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 d6, 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 make 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,
and is of no benefit to them. 1 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, but 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 be 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- j
covery that is made tragically often. ;
their first thought should be of how
this discovery will affect the lives of
their fchildren.
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 Yiot respect his
mother or father. 1’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
leaving to save him from introducing
any element of it in the heaven that lies
before him!
Copyright. 1913, by the H. K. Fly Com
pany. The play "Within the Law” is
i copyrighted by Mr. Veiller and this
novelization of it is published by his
permission. The American Play Com
pany is the sole proprietor of the ex
clusive rights of the representation
and performance of "Within the I*aw”
; in all languages.
By MARVIN DANA from the
Play by BAYARD VEILLER.
TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT.
"It seems to mf we’re going through a
j 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 way wfts so exciting.” she
1 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 way 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.
"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 anywhere—and mirth
as well from ribald observers.
■■■■SHI THAT
a
ue” Feeling
of
When yon feel dis
couraged and all the
world seems to be
against yon—that’s
your system’s way
is WRONG and needs HELP.
G
As It Is in Boston
telegraphing yon that something
Tt mav be that your liver is tired and refuses to work, or >our
digestive organs have had too much to do and need care Perhaps
you have been eating the wrong kmd of food, and your blood is too
rich or impoverished. What you need is a tome.
Dr. Pierce^ Golden Medical Discovery
n red aid Tones the entire system. The weak stomach is
made strong The liver Vibrates with new life. The blood is cleansed of all
impurities and carries renewed health to every vein snd 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.
President, World’s Dispensary
Medical Association, Buffalo, N. Y.
■ They have revised the nursery
8 j rhymes in Boston, and now they have
8 > even gone so far as* to rewrite the
5 i prayer. “Now I lay me.” for Boston
g children to say. It goes like this:
■
■ "Now, O Lord, I retire for the rest
Jj that nature craves,
g And reveijBntly place my soul in
■ Thy high keeping;
2 ! Vouchsafe. O Mighty Ruler of the
H wind and waves,
J To guard me well what time 1 must
® he sleeping.
■ And If, perchance, before to-morrow’s
jj light shall break
g My soul glow weary of this realm
and leave it
5 1 For shores whereon the sinless only
B inay awake,
• l earnestly beseech Thee to receive
iL”
“You Met Him Once.’’
Meantime, Garson had explained to
Mary.
“It's English Eddie—you * met him
once. 1 wonder what 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, who 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 bat, 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
come me,” Mary said, half apologetic
ally.
The visitor cast a self-satisfied glance
over his garb
“I think Its rather neat myself.” He
had some reputalion in the underworld
for his manner of dressing, and he re
garded this latest, achievement as his
masterpiece.
“Sure somfi^uds!” 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 us ail
about it."
While she was speaking Garson went
to the various doors and made sure that
all were 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 got the greutest game in the world.
• • • Two years ago a set of Gothic
tapestries worth $300,000 and a set of
Fragonard panels worth nearly as much
more were plucked from a chateau In
France and smuggled into this coun
try.’*
"f 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 dls-
| gust
“He pays half a million dollars for a
set of rugs!” There was a note of (
fiercest bitterness come into his voice as
lie sarcastically concluded: “And they
wonder at crime!"
Griggs went on with his account
“About a month ago the things 1
was telling you of were hung in the
library of a millionaire In this city.”
| fie hitched his chair a little closer
| to the desk, and leaned forward, low
ering his voice almost to a whis
per as he stated his plan.
“Let’s go after them. They ,were
i smuggled, mind you, and no matter
what happens, he can’t squeal. What
do you say?”
Garson shot a piercing glance at
Mary.
“It's up to her," he said. Griggs
r ^garded Mary eagerly, as she sal
with eyes downcast; Then, after a
j little interval had elapsed in science,
he spoke interrogatively:
"Well?"
Mary shook her head decisively.
“It's out of our line,” sh rt declared.
Griggs would have argued the mat - I
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 the
law."
Mary Interrupted Him.
“Oh. I know all that, orf course,”
Griggs* returned impatiently. "Bui
' 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?” yhe exclaimed, question-
iy.
“Yes. You know who he is.” Griggs
answered; "the dry* goods man.”
Garson in his turn showed a new
excitement as he bent toward Mary.
“Why. it’s old Gilder, the man
I you—’’
Mary, however, had regained her
^•elf-control, for a moment rudely
i shaken, and now her voice was tran
quil again as she replied:
“I know. But. Just the *ame. JtY
j illegal, and I won't touch it. That's
1 all there is to it.”
Griggs was dismayed.
"But half a million!” he exclaimed,
! disconsolately. "There’s a stake worth
i playing for. Think of it!” He turned
, pleadingly to Garson. “Half a mil-
j lion. Joe!”
The forger repeated the words with
1 an inflection that was gloating
/'Half a million!”
“And It’s the softest thing you ever
! s*aw.’\
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. The
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’
I a paper from his 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 paper.
"It is easy’,” Griggs reiterated.
“What do you say?”
Garson shook his head in refusal,
j but there was no conviction In the
act. r
"J promised Mary never to- ”
Griggs broke in on him.
“But a chance like this! Anyhow’,
come around to the back room at
Biinkey’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?”
TH come.” Garson 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.”
"Yea I’m against it,” Mary said,
firmly.
“I’m sorry.” English Eddie rejoined.
“But we must all play the game as
we see it. * * * Well, that was the
business I was after, and, a9 it's
finished, why, good-afternoon. Miss
Turner.” He nodded tow’ard 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,"
I 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
I weird forebodings that had been trou-
i 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 nervous
ly as he answered.
“S’pose the bulls get tired *f you
putting it over on ’em and try some
rough work?”
Mary smiled carelessly.
"Doh’t worry, Joe,” she advised. “I
know’ a way to stop it.”
"Well, so far as that goes, so do
I.” 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,
w ith a barrel longer than is usual and
a bell-shaped contrivance attached t i
the muzzle.
“No, no, Joe,” Marv 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 Kuhncrt, which are included among
many others by the famous animal printer 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 Ihe studies of
animal life that have come from the brush of
Kuhncrt. He was born on September 28. 1865, and
studied at the Berlin Academy. Kuhnert's great
claim to fame, according to art experts, is that
he has not been content with eaged creatures,
but has mastered the great essential, “local at
mosphere. ' ’
“Dangerous” Age for Married Women
By VIRGINIA TERHUNE VAN DE WATER.
To Be Co'.Jlnued To-morrow,
1T THAT is tiie dangerous age
XX f (,r a married woman?”
was asked of a group of
people. Several answers were given —
answers prompted 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
j painted him in the way of perfection
i —her very disappointment making her
| susceptible to attentions shown her by
! other men. Another speaker declared
I 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 assumes
! undue importance in her still young
. eyes.
To my way of thinking, neither of
these 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’ scheme of ex
istence, to bear and forbear, to ac-
comrhodate 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 excitement, 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 admiration
in the eyes of one's husband, and 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 the dan
gerous age I do not at all agree. The
woman who really loves her small
children find.- in her care of them so
much to occupy hands and heart that
per thoughts have little time to stray
into ways “dark and dim,” She may
he tired she may be neglectful of her
husband, she may find that getting
jp early to dress the babies, sitting
up late to fashion their garments, and
waking often in the night to minister
to their wants is monotonous work,
but it is also such a time-absorbing
and body-wearing occupation that the
mother feels little inclination to go
abroad or to mingle in society. If
sh»’ has the wish to do this, she has
not the leisure in which to gratify it.
The person who watches women,
and thinks as she watches, must,
sooner or later, agree that Karin
Michael is*, when site wrote her book,
"The 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
young enough to long for it still.
“All!” sighed a woman in my hear
ing. "Youth! It is the loveliest thing
'n all the world!”
I looked at her with a sense 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
as 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 much rouge that it called atten
tion to the fact that there must be
a pallor which she was striving to
hide. While the color on hair and
face were vivid, yet they seemed
when one looked at her eyes like
badges of mourning for a lost youth.
She was at the dangerous age. In
years she was, perhaps, 38 or 40.
“That is not old!” someone exclaims.
No, it is not, but neither is it young.
Her husband still loved her—but in a
practical, middle-aged way, without
enthusiasm; her children were old
enough to look out for themselves;
her sons, daughters, husband ami
friends took Her for granted. Mefb
who can do as they please, and cun
admire women ana talk pretty noth
ings to them even when they—the
men—are old enough to know better)
can 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 w’ho, through lack
of principle, sheer depravity, or—ana
this is quite possible, especially if the
man be \ery 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 ia
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 6f it.
The woman for whom the so-cailed
dangerous age has no pitfalls is th*
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 h^s
stifled a large portion of the vanity
that demands gratification.