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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.