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mOOS
thesyrup with theRED LABEL; and you’ll keepon
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PENICK & FORD, Ltd.
NEW ORLEANS, LA.
KENTUCKY WAFFLES
/li -V & tablespoons Red Velva Syrup, 2 cups sour
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’/ t teaspoon salt, some milk. Beat up yolks
: of eggs, add syrup, cream, flour, salt, lard, — -
'Jf the soda dissolved in a little milk, and the <CT _
Zfl whites of the eggs well beaten. Batter ~
.<7 should be made thin with sweet milk. Bake
THE TRIPLE TIE
A Story for Baseball Fans That Will Interest
Every Lover of the National Game
SYNOFSIS.
Kelly, a young North Geor-
itaineei, comet* t«» Atlanta
plane with Billy Smith’s
It is raining when he
eaches Ponce Deleon and he i»
iearly run over by an auto, in which
ir_ tv.o !*or8on#—a man anti a young
<!•* i*he driver <»f the t ar i* an ar-
•o*nuit fellow. The girl make* him
»top the machine. She get* out and
inquires if Kelly i* injured. She
»anlc
brusque manner Kelly
ger Smith ani te’l* him he ha* never
played a game of Imll. Smith con-
sen'ts to flJve Kelly a trial The girl
In the auto is Mildred Deery, daugh
ter of ^lalen Deery, a crafty and
wealthspeculator in timber lands.
Her companion Is Forrest Gain, a
rich young man about town. Kelly
owns timber land that Deery would
like to possess -
Now go on with the story.
By A H. C. MITCHELL.
(’opvright, 1913, by International News
Service.
TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT.
Selecting a dry spot on the “turtle
back” diamond, the two men drew on
their gloves and began "warming up"
by jtassing the hall back and forth, a
distance of about fifty feet separat
ing them They kept up a running
Are of talk like two dancing come
dians doing a turn on the vaudeville
stage.
“Nothing like starting the season
In the right way,” said Smith. “That’s
the reason 1 brought out a new ball.
What kind of halls do yon use In
that mountain league of yours?’’
“I use either the Spalding or the
Reach. They are all the same. I un- ,
derstand they are made at the same
factory.”
If the manager expected the re
cruit to handle himself awkwardly
or jump around in the clumsy man
ner of the novice he was disappoint
ed. Kelly caught the balls thrown
at him with the ease and grace of a
veteran. Smith purposely tossed
some wide one*, expecting the other
man to fall over himself, but noth
ing of the sort happened. Kelly took
them with one hand without moving
from his tracks, or if the threw was too
wild for that, he would get in front
of the ball with one surprisingly
quirk leap.
A Crowd Gathers.
"You seem to he in pretty fair
shape for this time of year.” re-,
marked Smith.
“Yes. I keep in trim all the year;
around.” was Kelly’s reply. With all
his hinting around, the manager
couldn't get much Information from
the recruit.
Throw a piece of meat or a dead
rat in the woods of any part of the;
South and there will be scores of buz
zards circling over the spot in an tn-
< credibly short space of time. Lot two
or more hall players start practicing
on any inclosed grounds in the coun
try. and although there will not ho a
,n boy In sight when they begin*
dozens of urchins will appear on the
scene as if from nowhere before five
minutes have passed. Such was the
case soon after Manager Smith and
his recruit began their exercise.
“There's enough kids around now,
to shack the balls." said Smith. “Slip- |
pose we have a little batting prac- ;
tice. You take first whack at the ball;
and I’ll pitch to you.”
“All right; wait till 1 get my bats,”
remarked Kelly, starting for the club
house. He returned quickly, swing
ing the three hats around his shoul
ders with both hands as one would
swing a huge Indian club, and after;
the manner of Tv Cobh. Tris Speaker
• ml other well known batsmen of na
tional reputation. He tossed two of
the “Louisville Sluggers” aside and
stepped to the plate with the third.
He was a right-handed batsman,
yet he assumed a position at the
plate different from that of any big
league batsman of the present day.
He stood exactly fifteen inches to the i
left of the rubber and faced th
Beauty Secrets of Beautiful Women $
" *
Lovely Laurette Taylor Says That an Attractive Smile Is Her Formula
After fortifying himself with a couple of cocktails against
an uninteresting session with Deery, Forrest Cain sat down at
table with him and tried to appear interested.
Up-to-Date
pitcher as a fine, upstanding orator
would face an audience. His feet
were firmly planted on the ground
eight inches apart, and he waved his
hat back and forth over the plate, not
up and down and not obliquely, but
on a line with the direction the ball
might be expected to take. Tris
Speaker and Doc Gessler swing their
bats In preliminary motions In this
way. hut both of these celebrated
fonce-'broakers stand with their legs
spread far apart and with their
shoulders turned more toward the
plate than toward the pitcher.
“Shades of Old Man Anson.” mur
mured Bill Smith to himself. "Where
did the. kid get that pose, I wonder?”
A Tremendous Hit.
It was at Imt that Bill Smith ex
pected to "show up” the aspirant for
a place on his team. To be sure,
the manager had not handled a ball
In nearly five months and his arm was
In no condition to put any “stuff” >n
it. Still he figured he might throw’ up
most any kind of ball and have Kelly
tumbling all over himself to hit it-—
that Is. he figured that way until the
recruit took his stand at the plate
and waved his oat at easily as though
it were a broomstick instead of 43
ounces of solid, well-reasoned ash.
“Shades of Anson!" murmured
Smith again. “What do you know
about that kid! Well, here goes."
Swinging his right arm in a clrcln
several times and then describing sev
eral "and so forths” in the air with
the ball. Bill Smith raised his left
foot on high and as It came down ‘o
the earth he delivered the hall with
as much speed as he could put behind
It.
As the ball sailed up to the plate.
Kelly took one step straight forward
and drove his bat against the horse-
hide There was a resounding crash
and the ball shot like a rifle bullet on
a line toward right field. Th«* farther
it went the more speed it seemed to
acquire, and Instead of traveling in a
rainbow curve it appeared to rise in
the air.
"With a loud report it crashed into
the ribs of the mammoth, inanimate
figure of the hull Which adorns the
hall parks of every league club in the
country There was a sound of splin
tering wood and the ball disappeared
from view, leaving a large hole in the
sides of the proud wooden animal.
“Lordy, Lordy, what a swat!” ejac
ulated Whisky, who had been surrep
titiously watching the proceedings on
the diamond from the runway under
the grandstand. “Ah jest caint ree-
ommember ever seein' nothin’ like daf
on deseyere grounds befo’."
Bill Smith gazed long and earnest
ly at the jagged hole In the side of
the bull. Twenty boys ran in search
of the hall and presently one of them
returned with it, out of breath, and
held it out to the manager. Bill Smith
waved his hand and said:
Offer a Contract.
“Keep it as a souvenir, kid; v you’U
never see a hit like that again as long
as you live." Then, turning to the
young man, who still stood at the
plate brandishing his bat, he said:
“Come with me, Kelly," and walked
swiftly to the clubhouse. Seating him
self at a small desk, he drew a printed
form from one of the drawers and
for several minutes all that was heard
In the room was the scratching of a
pen. Finally the manager turned to
Kelly and said:
“What amount shall I write here?"
“What i.» it ’” inquired the young
man.
“Something I want to send to Pres
ident Kavanaugh of the Southern
League for promulgation. It is a con
tract between the Atlanta Baseball
Club and Gordon Kelly.”
“Fill it in with the smallest amount
you pay anyone of your players, but
I can’t sign it, as I will not be of age
until the 10th of April,” replied Kelly
There was more business o!
arose and pointed to the chair.
Sit down and sign it,” he ordered
You may not be of age according
to common law, but I'll take my
chances with baseball law.”
Kelly signed the document, arose
from the chair and slipped off hi?
uniform, declining Wnisky'n eager
proffer of a rub-down
“Much obliged, Whisky, but I didn’t
work hard enough to-day 10 get uy
h sweat. Some other time.”
Gordon Kelly finished dressing and
started to leave.
“What time Is the call for practice
«>n Monday, Mr. Manager," he said.
"No work on Sunday, 1 suppose."
Ten o’clock sharp, Gordon. Er—
did I understand you to say you never
plaved a game of ball?”
"That is correct.”
"And you never saw a ball game in
your life?”
“Right again. ’
“That's all. See you Monday. So
long."
Gordon Kelly went out and Bill
Smith, turning to his attendant, said:
"I repeat, Whisky, there goes a mys-
terioso for all the money you got in
| your clothes.”
| “Yassuh, yassuh. he cert’nly am jn'
den some.”
CHAPTER IV.
A r 9:30 o’clock on Monday morn
ing Judge Barbee called Galen
Deery on the telephone and in
formed him that the young man they
had been speaking about on Satur
day. Gordon Kelly, had Just left his
office, but that he was to nave lunca
with him at the Piedmont at 12:30,
and if Mr. Deery cared to saunter in
her would introduce him.
“He is a fine young man. Deery, and
you will be glad to meet him,” said the
Judge, in conclusion.
“Very much obliged. Judge, I'll drop
around,” replied Deery and hung up
the receiver.
At 12: 4f» o’clock Deery "sauntered"
in the main dining room of the Pied
mont and was soon seated at a table
with Gordon Kelly and Judge Barbee.
He made himself very' agreeable to the
young man, as he well knew how to
do, and pressed an invitation for him
to dine with the Deery family that
night. Gordon demurred at first, on
the plea that he had no evening
clothes.
“Why, I never owned a dress su’t,
Mr. Deery. We have r.ot much use for
them where I came from. I remem
ber an old suit of my father's hanging
up in a closet, but I never saw it on
him.”
"We will dine Informally to-night,”
replied Deery. "1 am not much on the
spiketails myself and only wear them
when I am absolutely obliged to do
so. Come up Just as you are. We
dine at 7 o’clock.”
"Thank you, I wi!.\ with pleAsure,"
said Gordon.
Deery' begged to be excused soon
after and when he had gone. Judge
Barbee said:
“I have known Deery for a good
many years I don’t suppose you will
ever have any business dealings with
him, Gordon, but if you ever do you
will find him a man of his word. When
he says he’ll do a thing he’ll do it.
He is a clever man and a shrewd
man, who takes advantage of his op
portunities and even creates his op
portunities He has been accused
of being underhanded In hi? business
dealings, but I have never found him
that way and I have been in several
undertakings with him. He is the
kind of man that will try to buy a
thing worth two dollars for one dol
lar, or fifty cents, or a nickel and he
frequently succeeds. You say you ex
pect to he In Atlanta for several
weeks. That being the case, I’m glad
you are to meet Deery’s family. He
has a charming wife and daughter.
They are good people to know’ and
the right kind of people to know.
Later in the week you must come to
my house and spend a quiet evening
with us. Now, if you don’t mind, I
would like to talk to you a little about
your affairs. You were in such a
hurry to get away this morning I
didn’t have a chance to go over things
with you.”
To be Continued To-morrow.
dour my hair, or marcel it, or follow
the prevailing mode in some way, but
that is not wise, for with my hair sim
ply parted in the middle, pulled over
my temples a bit and arranged in a
bun over each ear. 1 look most truly
myself; s-*o no matter bow fashion-
may lure mo for a time, in the end \
go back to the simple mode of hair
dressing that best expresses me.”
"Originality—without daring—M a
very attractive thing. But do you
think It very popular?” I asked.
Bernhardt’ Example.
“Popular!” exclaimed Miss Taylor.
“Just think of the teas you have gone
to this winter—didn’t you see at least
a hundred sway-backed women all ofr
the came type at.each one? Original
ity of a well-bred, simple sort is jjo ,
Lively—and so neglected.
"That has come over me with re
newed force after seeing our great,
our wonderful leader in the world of
icting—Bernhardt. She is herself—
Miss Laurette Taylor i n Two Charming Poses.
A Bachelor’s Diary .:. By MAX
Young Man (to provision merchant)
Your daughter and I. sir. have j
agreed to row down the river of life \
together, sir.
Provision Merchant (sarcastically) j
-Have you got any provisions on 1
hoard?
Young Man No, sir. Considering
your business. we thought the
victualing department was more in j
your line, sir.
When Scones was at Oxford he was
a most excellent fellow, and only had j
one enemy—soap. He was called |
Dirty Scones. One day the wag. Bo
lus. went into his rooms, and. re
monstrating with him on the untidy,
slovenly and dirty state of everything.
"Upon my word, Dirty, it’s too bad,
old chap. The only clean thing in
the room is your towel.”
“Gracious. Smith, old boy. hoy are
vou? 1 havent’ seen you for ages.
You are altered. I should scarcely
know you again."
“Excuse me, sir. my name is not
Smith."
“Great Scot! Your name altered’
Slop Experimenting
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It Acts Instantly 'wherever applied.
You will find it not offensive, a requisite
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Ta ke no malodorous or worthless substi
tutes. insist upon Et*Rado.
Price, $1.00, at Jacobs’ Ten
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PIi.GHIF.5 MFG. COMPANY
r 37 East ,')iu St. New York
jk PRIL 1(> -I have been sorely neg-
f\ ligent of you lately. Diary, but
the kaleidoscopic rapidity with
which familiar forms and long-estab
lished opinions have changed has loft
me in a state of bewilderment. If I
had started to pour into your sym
pathetic ear my belief that Sally
Spencer did right in inviting the wid
ow to visit her. something would have
occurred before the page was filled to
convince me she did wrong.
1 have tried Jo help her according to
my interpretation of the needs of the
situation by flirting violently with
Mrs. Brown, even going so far ay to
give the widow every opportunity to
ask me to marry her —indeed, encour
aging her to do so—and all 1 got for
jeopardizing my future happiness was
a scolding from Sally.
“This." she said to me very coldly
one evening, when l had refused to
take a hint from the disapproving
looks she gave me and she had been
compelled to remove me bodily from
the seene by asking me to walk to the
corner mail box with her. "is* my
game, and I want you to know. Max,
that I am competent to play it with
out any assistance from you."
“It seems to me," 1 grumbled, "that
I am rendering you very valuable as
sistance at this minute What would
he your excuse or leaving those two
alone hour after hour if you didn’t
have me around? You want a walk
around the block, and Max will take
you. of course. You find you must
make a call on a sick friend, and Max
w ill escort you there and wait for you.
You are overwhelmed with a longing
to see Manette. and Max will step
across the lawn with you. and. as for
the mail box. you know, Sally Spencer,
you have mailed more letters in the
past week than you ever wrote in your
life, and it never occurs to you that
your maid or your man will mail them
for you No. you must go yourself,
and Max must go with you
A Cold Answer.
“Do you think Mrs. Brown likes to
b>‘ thrown it your husband's head
like that'.’"
She seems to be enjoying it." a
trifle more coldly.
I couldn’t gainsay that, for I have
never known the widow to seem as
happy as vhe has appeared since she
became a guest of the Spencer home.
Her enjoyment proves to me that
women, just as well as men, like lo
play with tire, and that more of them
would go to the devil if such an ex
cursion in a woman’s life were as
quickly forgotten as when a man
takes it. The fact that the label put
on her luggage is stuck on for life is
all that keeps her from going to the
end of the line. In her heart she goes
there a.often as a man.
Of course there are exceptions.
There is Margaret Hill, who never in
her life committed a sin as enormous
as crocheting on Sunday, but what
happiness would a man find in her?
He would have to devote the rest
of his life to thinking before he said
a word, and never again would ne
dare to be spontaneous in reminis
cence or joke.
Never Kissed.
There have been situations in the
sowing and harvesting of my small
crop of wild oats that were excruci
atingly funny, a few that were sad,
and one that was almost tragic, but
I wouldn’t be allowed to recall the
most innocent if I married a woman
as good as Margaret Hill. I should
have to add deceit and hypocrisy to
.’ sowing, seeds 1 find that all men
must plant who marry late in life
ind strive to live up to the glorified
Ideals of the woman they married.
Woman-like, no wife is ever con
tent to let a man s yesterday alone.
■ Did you ever do thus-and-so?” She
begins to ask before the honeymoon
has waned, and her husband, for the
sake of her peace of mind as well as
his own, is compelled to lie like a
thief.
I can Just fancy myself. Diary, tell
ing Margaret Hill that 1 had lived my
almost fifty years without the com
mission of a sin! •
"My mother died when 1 was a
boy.” 1 can hear myself telling her,
"and she was the last woman I kissed
'till 1 kissed you.”
“But did you never meet any wom
an you thought you loved?” she would
persist, in the insane fashion women
have of trying to undermine their
happiness.
“Never.” I would reply emphat
ically.
"But when other men went around
at nights and did all sorts of wicked
things, didn't you go around with
them ?’’
“Never, never. NEVER!" reaching
for my halo.
But I thought." a little doubtfully.
I “I once heard you speak of # being on
‘ the streets with Tom Addison till 3
o’clock in the morning."
"My dear," in tones of righteous
reproof, "we were on our way to sit
up with the dead."
Perhaps this w’ould satisfy her. but
I have a notion she would ask who
was dead, and I should be compelled
to Invent a fictitious corpse, go into
all the details of his last Illness, and
perhaps, the next time we w'ere oat
riding, be confronted w ith the request
that I show her his grave!
The next time she renewed the at
tack on my past I w’ould throw up
more breastworks of hypocrisy, grow
ing more skillful with every occa
sion.
And why would she do this, Diary?
Well, the Lord aione knows. A boy
w ho punches a hole in his drum to
find out where the noise comes from
has his counterpart in every wife.
She isn’t content to simply be happy;
she must punch her happiness all to
pieces, using a question mark as a
tool.
When she has discovered that her
husband wasn’t a spotless angel in
his past, she declares "All men are
alike!" And when a woman says
“All men are alike" she means they
are all as black as tar.
April 20—I seem to write on these
pages for the purpose of concealment,
rather than of communication, but
the truth is l can't nerve myself to
the ordeal of putting down in black
and w’hite what is really happening.
To do that will make it really so. and
1 am blindly hoping I will wake up
after a time and find it is all a
dream.
Getting Brazen.
Mrs. Brown and Jack Spencer have
become so abandoned in their infat
uation that they no longer have the
decency to conceal it from his wife.
And as for me! Well, Diary, when I
caught him kissing her the other day.
wouldn’t you have thought they’d had
at least the grace to look ashamed?
Not a bit of it! All the embarrass
ment was mine! I pledged Sally my
word 1 wouldn’t interfere, but I broke
it this morning when the widow came
across the lawn and took a seat be
side me in the library. I have noticed
that as soon as Jack leaves the house
she hunts me up. showing no desire
to face an hour or two alone with her
hostess.
I began by asking her. rather grufTL.-
!y. when she was going home.
In tones as innocent as if she were
telling a preacher she liked lamb
stew, she replied:
“I can't tell you when I am going,
but I can tell you this much: When
By LILLIAN LAUFFERTY.
{ f -m jtr ERCY, you don’t consider me
1 w I a beauty!” exclaimed Lau
rette Taylor in a tone of
genuine and delightful amazement.
She studied the floor of her own
browm-rugged. flower-decked living
room in charming confusion that had
a touch of the child-like quality every
lovable woman should possess in her
nature.
"Evidently you don’t take that par
ticular phase of beauty very serious
ly,” said I. “But won’t you tell me
just what your idea of beauty is?”
"Variety,” came the answer prompt
ly. "To me a beautiful woman Is
one w’ho to-day is gloriously mag
nificent, to-morrow sweetly pensive,
and the day after that interestingly
plain. Maxine Elliott. Maude Adams
and w’onderful Mme. Bernhardt min
gling their types and possibilities in
one face would produce true and won
derful beauty. I think."
What to Avoid.
Miss Taylor laughed the wide,
sweet, shy Irish smile that makes
“Peg o’ My Heart” the joy of all
who meet her at the Cort Theater in
New York or at home, where her
charming co-creator is Mrs. Hartley
Manners,” wife of the man who wrote
the part his wife vitalizes.
“Of course,” went on the v vlbrant
voice w’ith its note of rich tender
ness, “very few of us can unite beau
ty and charm and fascinating ugli
ness and the look of genius and spir
ituality, and diabllerie all in our one
little face. And it is Just as well not
to try to make your face over into a
number of things it was never meant
to be and probably will decline to be
come. however hard you try to make
it. So it is just as well to let your
personality flower into its own sort of
teauty.
“When I was a 14-year-old board
ing school girl, with a vast affection
Tor little boys and a yearning to be
pretty and attractive, I discovered
that I had the sad blemish of a big
mouth if I let it go into a natural
smile, so I pursed it up neatly at the
corners and Just semi-smiled. Then 1
discovered that if I smiled all the way
there were dimples—they seemed to
counteract the extensiveness of the
smile—so I let it have full sway."
Fairly Shuddered.
And I fairly shuddered to think
how but for those dimples the illumi
nating. infectious, altogether lovable
Laurette Taylor smile might have
been lost to us!
“Beauty wells up from the inner
consciousness like personality,” be
gan Miss Taylor seriously, and then
stopped to ask in a delightfully hu
man way. “Well, do you think I am
talking like a book?”
“Not a bit," said f; "please just
think aloud about how to be as pretty
as possible with only one face and a
limited number of expressions for
that. Does not an actress naturally
know’ about how to be beautiful?”
“She. learns the possibilities of her
own face. She has to study it so ear
nestly while putting on and taking off
make-up. She learns the little trick
of turning her eyes so they will look
as large as possible and whether to
show her full face or her profile, but
she scarcely carries those trick? con
sciously into every-day life; because
being natural is exactly as important
as being sure of your own possibilities.
❖
answers an ideal of the sort of hair a
little Irish girl should have. In life
one does not w ear a red wig for em
phasis and attraction, but one ar
ranges the hair just as becomingly as
possible. Now. I sometimes pompa-
absolutely and positively herself; and
in the realization of her own person
ality as well as her mastery of acting,
she is* wonderful. She never w f as a
beauty in any accepted way—yet she
is more than beautiful. Why? Be
cause personality, originality and.
varying moods and phases of temper
ament w ell from her inner conscious
ness and illuminate her face.” )
The little actress' face,was fairly
transfigured with self-forgetting rev
erence as she spoke of the woman who
surmounts her profession.
I looked the growing admiration I
was coming to feel for Laurette Tay
lor’s mobile charm. Suddenly she
leaned forward—lips parting in that
warming smile.
“Now. I am going to take my turn
at asking you a question. Were you
not disappointed in me when I first
came in? You missed the red wig—
the note of emphasrts—the Irish spar
kle of the girl I play. Tell me, is this
not so?”'
“Perhaps,” I said slowly. “Perhaps.
“But truly, truly I find you better than
m.v best theories of you now.” For
you see Laurette Taylor realizes so
many of her own ideals of beauty;
hair softly parted over a broad brow,
wistful eyes, piquant nose and merry
smiling motith above her stately white
throat affording a pleasing variety in
oqe face. And beauty did well from
her inner consciousness as she spoke
with self-forgetting love of her great
ideal, Bernhardt.