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\ 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.