Newspaper Page Text
\
QBMauaMBMHflaiaHRaMaHHI
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
V R candles and baking cakes.
PI It has more than syrup
yfal [I that makes telling about It
H ^ a “ taste it to know what we
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
Tapioca and Cream
1 cupful Red Velva Syrup. 2 cupfuls cold coffee. 1-2
cupful tapioca. 1-4 cupful sugar, 1-4 teaspoonful salt,
1 teaspoonful vanilla extract, some whipped cream.
Put the tapioca Into a saucepan, add the syrup,
coffee, sugar, and salt and cook for 15
minutes Remove from the fire, add
Remove from the fire, add
the vanilla extract and when cool divide
into glasses. Cover the top with
sweetened and whipped cream.
Sen'e very cold.
PENICK & FORD. Ltd.
New Orleans. La.
Charming Modes of the Moment
Described by Olivette, I he Georgian’s Fashion Expert
1
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 sent to prison,
though innocent. Aggie Lynch, a
convice friend of Mary's at Burn-
sing. sees good “possibilities" for her
in the world of crime. Upon Mary's
rc lease 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
lives. Mary becomes the leader of a
band of swindlers, robbing only the
unscrupulous and keeping always
"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
m prison hears of Mary's charitable
disposition, calls on her and faints
from want of nourishment. Mary
learns thai 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 anti (’.ar
son then b arn that Mary had married
young Gilder that morning But she
says she won’t live with him. Mary
is advised by Garson to throw up the
scheme to get hack at the father
through the son, but Mary reiterates
her threat of vengeance. Dick calls
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
By OLIVETTE.
->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
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 hands of trimming
are made of coq 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. Idle 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, 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 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 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
he 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 he
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 pot 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
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 w r ill 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, hut the
rewards are commensurate.
An Alternative.
If. on the other hand, the parents find
such conditions intoleraWe, 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 his
mother or father. Unless 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!
iTHATi
“Blue” Feeling
of
that something is
When yon feel dis
couraged and all the
world seems to be
against you—that’s
your system’s way
WRONG and needs HELP.
Ft
As It Is m Boston
telegraphing yon
It may be that your liver is tired and refuses to work, or your
digestive organs have had too much to do and need care. Perhaps
you have been eating the wrong kind of food, and your blood is too
rich or impoverished. What you need is a tonic.
pr. Pierce’s (fcolrien Medical Discovery
will pive the required aid. Tones the entire system. The weak stomach i*
made strong. The liver vibrates with 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 (jetting 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
| rhymes in Boston, and now they have
• even gone so far as to rewrite the
I 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;
I Vouchsafe, O Mighty Ruler of the
wind and waves,
To guard me well what time 1 must
be sleeping.
■ And if, perchance, before to-morrow’s
light shall break
My soul grow wean - of this realm
and leave it
For shore:- whereon the sinless only
may awake.
I earnestly beseech Thee to receive
it,”
Copyright. 1913, by the H. K. Fly Com
pany The play 'Within the Law" is
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 Law’’
in all languages.
By MARVIN DANA from the
Play by BAYARD VEILLER.
TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT.
“Jt 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 ydu
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 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 way to the door. “It's defer as
Pittsburg." With that sarcasm directed
against legal subtleties, she tripped
daintily out. an entirely ravishing vis-
i 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
ihe reply, with a dry chuckle.
“Mr. Griggs." Fannie announced.
There was a smile on the face of the
j maid, which w r as 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.
“You Met Him Once.”
Meantime, Garson had explained to
Mary.
“It’s English Eddie- -you met him
once. ! 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
I smile caused by the costume of Mr
Griggs. Yet. there was no violation of
I the canons of good tasle, except in the
aggregate From spats to "hat, from
1 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 harmonize* ith his
j clothes, whereby the whole effect was
emphasized and rendered bizarre. Gar-
j son took one amazed look, and then
I rocked with laughter,
j 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*
j ally.
The visitor cast a self-satisfied glance
over his garb
“I think its rather neat myself." He
had some reputation in the underworld
for his manner of dressing, and he re
garded this latest achievement as his
masterpiece
“Sure some duds!" Garson admitted.
| checking his merriment.
“From your costume,” Mary suggest-
o<i. '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 all
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 eould speak softly.
English Eddie wasted no time in get
ting to the point.
“Now, look here." he said rapidly.
"I’ve got the greatest game in the world
* * * Two years ago a set of Gothic
Paintings That Are Amazing Europe
Why rhey Call Wilhelm Kuhncrl the World’s Greatest Animal Painter
tapestries worth 1300,000 and a sat of
Fragonard i»anel8 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?” Tlaraon exclaimed.
"Sometimes more," Mary answered.
"Morgan has a set of Gothic tapestries
worth h^lf a jnillion dollars."
Garson uttered an ejaculation of dis
gust.
“He pays half a million dollars for a
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 hia account.
“About a month ago the things I
was telling you of were hung in the
library of a millionaire in this city.”
He 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
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
regarded Mary eagerly, as she sal
with eyes downcast. Then, after a
little interval had elapsed in silence,
he spoke interrogatively:
Well?”
Mary shook her head decisively.
‘‘It’s out of our line,” she declared.
Griggs would have argued the mat
ter. "1 don’t s»e any easier way to
get a half million," he said aggres
sively.
Mary, however, was unimpressed.
If It were fifty millions* it would
make no difference. It’s against the
law'."
Mary Interrupted Him,
“Oh, I know all that, of course."
Griggs returned impatiently. “Bui
if you can—’’
Mary interrupted him in a tone of
finality.
“My friends and I never do any- 1
thing that's illegal: Thank you for!
coming to us, Mr. Griggs, but we can't i
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?” she 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
you—’’
Mary, however, had regained her
self-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 I won’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. The
Instant she was out of the room
Griggs turned to Garsop anxiously:
‘‘It Looks Easy.”
"It's a cinch, Joe," he pleaded. "I’ve
got a plan of the house." He drew
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 refusai,
but there yyas 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 j
Blinkey’s to-night and we'll have a i
talk. Will you?"
“What time?” Garson asked hesi
tatingly, tempted.
"Make it early, say it," was the
answer "Will you?!’
'I'll 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
Betties it."
“Yes. I’m against it." Marv 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, as 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 nervous
ly as he answered.
"S'pose the bulls get tired you
putting it over on ’em and try some
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
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,
with a barrel longer than 1a usual and
a bell-shaped contrivance attached t>
the muzzle.
"No, no, Joe." Mary cried, greatly
discomposed. "None of that—ever!"
To Be Continued To*morrow.
(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 Loudon. 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 born on September 28, 1865, ami
studied at the Berlin Academy. Kuhnert‘s great
claim to fame, according to art experts, is that
he 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.
T THAT is the dangerous age
^\/ for 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 persons, 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 h^*r
susceptible to attentions shown her by
other men. Another speaker declared
that the dangerous age is that n
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
w'hat 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 we V
ded lives. They are normal, clear
headed or unemotional women, who
either do not demand great devotion
from their husbands, or who are -o
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 vvh >
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 w'ere 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
commodate her views to those <>f h« r
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 admirati >u
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 finds* in her care of them so
much to occupy hands and heart that
ner thoughts have little time to stray
into ways “dark and dim,’’ She may
be tired she may be neglectful of her
husband she may find that getting
up early to dress the babies, sitting
up late to fashion their garments, and
waking often ih the night to minister
*.o their wants is monotonous work,
hut it is also such a time-absorbing
and body-wearing occupation that the
mother feels little inclination to g
abroad or to mingle in society. If
she 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
Michaelis, when she wrote her book,
‘The Dangerous Age," was not f\r
wrong in suggesting that this age
comes ivhen 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.
“Ah!" sighed a woman in my hear
ing. "Youth! It Is the loveliest thing
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 hah 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 w'ere 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 affd •
friends took her for granted. Me«,
who can do as they please, and can
admire women and .talk pretty noth
ings to them even when they—t-he
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 who, through laid*:
of principle, sheer depravity, or--and
this is quite possible, especially if the
man be \ery young—genuine admira
tion, sueeeds in making her think tH&t
he loves her, she’, even if she be a
moral woman, may find that she Ts
not as sure of herself and her princi
ples as :*he 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.
w
The woman for-whom the so-cailed
dangerous age has no pitfalls is th'e
w ife w'iio 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.