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1 £ ♦ U Daysey Mayme And Her Folks By FRANCES L. GARSIDE. W HO w 8 THE TRIPLE TIE - A Story for Baseball Fans That Will Interest Every Lover of the National Game pHEN Daysey Mayme Appleton vas a student in school, none I was aA quick as she in de ciding how mAiy rolls of paper it would require for a room seventeen feel square, with walls twelve feet | high, allowing for two doors and ■ seven windows. Given the dimensions i 'f a cistern, she could remove her wad of chewing gum, stick it on the under side of her desk, go to the blackboard and figure how many cubic feet of water it would take to fill the cistern ind get back to her desk before her gum v»as cold. She ate up problems in compound interest, gloated over questions in volving the displacement of battle- ships, and no other girl got as much halk on her nose and clothes in figur ing just when and where we will bump into Mars. Evary Bonaparte finally meets his Wellington, and Daysey Mayme at last met hers. She had charge of the kitchen, and was down on her knees in front of the refrigerator with the day’s purchase of groceries beside her when her colors went down in defeat. Mathematical Shapes. The butter jar was square, the milk was in bottles, the cold potatoes filled an oval dish and the prunes were in a round bowl. With eyes that could tell at a glance the distance between Ju piter and Mars, she saw that the re frigerator shelves were eighteen Inches deep and two feet long, and that there were three of them. “Let x,” she began, mechanically, “represent the lard, y the eggs and z the roast; then x plus y plus z will equal one-third of the top shelf, leav ing two-thirds for a, the stewed prunes; b, the cream, and c, the to matoes.” She found the displacement of the roast was such there was no room for x, y, and a, b and c, and In trying to crowd the bottles on the eggs she broke thrwa and yellow and w'hite leaked down ^»r the prunes on the shelf beneath. She used every trick in science to reduce the round cans, the oval dishes and the square boxes to a space small enough to make room for the cheese, upsetting a bowl of frosting into the buttermilk jar and the salad dressing over a riee pud ding. Sat on a Pie. The present was hard enough to bear, and when her brain leaped for ward to the season when the water melon must also be figured with she sat recklessly back on a pie and be gan to cry. "Oh, Lord.ivshe prayed, beating her head against' a dish of cold potatoes, ‘.‘either make woman's brains large enough to solve her problems or make watermelons smaller." “Oh," she added a moment later, when she had found she couldn't bal ance the cream bottles on the roast, “if you can’t make them smaller, make them square.” i $250 in Prizes for Best Solution of “The Triple Tie’ at* Y OU read the first four installments of the great baseball mystery story of ‘‘The Triple Tie” and now you have a fair idea of the simplicity of the offer The Georgian makes—how you may win $100 by working out the solution of the mystery as nearly as its au thor, A. H. C. Mitchell, has done as you can. Mr. Mitchell has written the last chapter, but his copy is sealed up in a vault at the American National Bank. When all but this final chapter has been printed, The Georgian readers will be asked to submit to tftree competent judges, none of them connected with this newspaper, their version of what the grand denouement should be. To the person who most closely approximates Mr. Mitch ell’s final chapter $100 will be awarded. Other prizes, making the total prize list $250, also will be distributed. Here is the List of the awards: No. 1 $100 No. 2 $50 No. 3 ,. $25 No. 4 $15 Nos. 5 to 16, each 5 Read this fifth installment of the great mystery story and you will not need to be urged to read the succeeding chapters. The story will grip you. As you read, try to follow the author’s channel of thought and when the time comes for you to sit down and write that final chapter, be ready to win one of the big cash prizes in The Georgian’s great offer. By A. H. C. MITCHELL. Copyright, 1913, by International News Service. TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT. By BEATRICE FAIRFAX. HIS LOVE IS SELFISH. D ear miss Fairfax: I am 17 and deeply in love with a young man seven years my senior. He always says he loves me and often speaks of mar riage, although we do not con sider ourselves engaged. He never goes with other girls and expects me not to meet other boys. Has he a right to expect this, and is it right for me to go with other young men? MABEL. Professions of love and the occa- eional mention of marriage do not constitute an engagement There must be a definite proposal and an engagement ring. Until there is an engagement neith er has the right of monopoly of the other’s time, and not then if both par ties have a faith that is above jeal ousy. You are 17—too young by sev eral years to be engaged. ask her. D ear miss Fairfax; I am 20 and in love with a girl two years my junior, with whom I have been acquainted for several years. T have been calling on her and taking her out, with the permission of her parents. Whenever I approve of one of her friendly actions she claims she would do that same thing for any body whom she liked. How' can I learn w'hether she loves me or „o, ? ANXIOUS. Ask her. you are There is only one way: But don’t ask her unless ’financially able to follow up your question with a proposal of marriage and an engagement ring. Gordon looked at his watch. ”1 can only spare half an hour—say forty minutes, Judge,” he laughed. “You see, I am taking some lessons and the hours are from 10 to 12 in the morn ing and 2 to 4 in the afternoon.’ "I'm glad to learn that you are starting right in to improve yourself, Gordon. Lord knows there were many things that could not be had up in the mountains w'here you were forced to spend all your life;” “I have no complaint to make, Judge. I enjoyed every minute of it. But I formed an ambition up there that I want to gee realized." “What is it?” “I’ll tell you as soon as I feel sure I can win out,” laughed Gordon. To his wife Deery telephoned from his office that there would a guest for dinner. “I may do some business with him at some future date,” he ex plained, "but that has nothing to do with it at present. He is a friend of Judge Barbee’s. In fact, the Judge is a sort of guardian of his. He has lived all his life in the mountains, but you would never know it to talk with him. He has never been in a city before, but you would never suspect that either. Please pass the word along to Mildred and tell her she will be interested.” At five minutes of seven o’clock that evening Gordon Kelly entered the Deery residence and a moment later was escorted into the living room by Mr, Deery, who presented him to his wife. “This is Mr. Gordon Kelly, dear; my wife, Mr. Kelly,” said.Deery. and after courtesies had been exchanged, he added: “Where is Mildred?” At that moment his daughter cross ed the threshold, and as she caught sight of Gordon she stood stock still. Recovering herself instantly, she advanced and held out her hand as the young man was presented to her. Before half a dozen words could be spoken, dinner was announced. A Warning Glance. “I don’t intend to talk of the weath er, Mr. Kelly, but I would like to ask if you were caught in the storm this morning?” said Mrs. Deery, as the napkins were unfolded. Gordon intercepted a quick, warn ing glance from Mildred, "who was seated opposite him, and answered: “I certainly did, Mrs. Deery’, I was caught out in the suburbs and caught most of the rain, too, but fortunately I found a friend right handy and was able to dry my clothes; otherwise I should have been in a predicament.” “You were fortunate after all,” smiled Mrs. Deery. “but Mildred was out in the whole drenching rain and had a most exciting adventure. You haven’t heard a word about It, Galen Mildred, tell Mr. Kelly and your father all about it.” “You tell them, please, mother, pleaded Mildred, with a slight flush. Thereupon Mrs. Deery related the incidents of the morning, exaggerat ing only' so much as it is a woman’s right to exaggerate. She omitted, however, the mean part played by Forrest Cain. Neither did she men tion the hand-holding episode, for in truth her daughter had not told her of it. “That tvas very kind of you to turn back, Miss Deery,” said Gordon, with a smile. "As near as I can make out the young man was at fault in not looking out for himself." Now I think you are fishing for Kelly,” returned Mildred. “You men always stand up for each other that way.” It was evident to Gordon that Mil dred desired to conceal from her parents that he, Gordon Kelly, was the young man referred to. Beyond a slight start when she first saw him in her home, she had no sign of ever having seen him before. Gordon could not fathom her reasons for wishing the matter kept secret, but he felt bound to respect them. She Flushed Slightly. Mrs. Deery started another topic. “My husband tells me you have lived all your life In the mountains northwest of us,” she said. “Didn’t you find it losesome up there?” “Oh, mother, let Mr. Kelly tell us what he thinks of Atlanta,” broke in Mildred quickly. “Isn’t it a fine city, Mr. Kelly?” She flushed again slightly, though Gordon could not understand why she did so. He answered: ‘It certainly is. Miss Deery, but the thing that impressed me most when I arrived was the roar and rumble of it. Where I have lived the only noise we hear is the sound of the wind through the trees.” The conversation drifted into small talk. Mildred turned aside every at tempt made by her parents to draw out Gordon in regard to his life in the mountains, and this was another thing in connection with the young woman he couldn’t understand. The dinner ended and Mrs. Deery asked if Gordon would care to play bridge. “That is an accomplishment I haven’t acquired,” laughed Gordon, “but I must study it up.” “Take my advice and don’t do it,” declared Deery. “In a moment of mental aberration I allowed myself to learn the rudiments of the game. Never again!” He held up his right hand impressively. “Since that fatal hour my wife and daughter have in sisted on dragging me shrieking to all sorts of bridge parties for the benefit of the Old Indies' Home, or some such charitable affair.” They all laughed at this. It was not until Gordon was taking his leave that he managed to have a word with Mildred alone. He said: “Tell me why you make a mystery of my connection with your adventure of the morning?” “Sh’h,” she replied with a sly look “It’s a secret.” “And why wouldn’t you allow me to tell of my life in the mountains?” “Sh-h,” replied Mildred with an adorable smile. “That is secret No. 2.” Cordial Invitations. Their Married Life Warren Gets Out His Summer Clothes and Helen Gives Away th e Wrong Suit. By MABEL HERBERT URNER. EAR, you'll never wear them," Tj persisted Helen. “What’s the use of keeping them any longer? Let me give these two suits to the. elevator boy.” “Hold on now-rnot so fast! What’ve you got there?” scowled Warren, coming over to where Helen was ex amining two suits by the window. • “Why, this old blue serge, and this brown suit." “Ijet’s see—give them here. What’s the matter with this?” as he held up- the blue serge. “Why, Warren, it’s all worn shiny. And there’s that new blue serge you got last summer. Yoiill never wear this old one.” “I’m not so sure. That's a good suit yet. Just the thing to wear fish ing.” Warren was always saving his old suits to wear fishing—but he never went fishing! However, Helen was about getting rid of it! Well, now you fix that other suit and have the tailor press it to-day.' It’s just about the right weight to wear now.” Helen, panic-stricken, went in to finish dressing. What could she do? She MUST get that suit back. War ren would be rabid If he found had given away a perfectly new suR, No—no, he must never know! She barely tasted her breaktac^, and could hardly wait until Warren, left. Then she ran out to see if the elevator boy, to whom she had given, the suit, was on duty this morning. But it was the other boy who an swered her Ting. “What time will Henry be on?” she demanded* A Thief. much too wise to remind him of this incohsistency, but she finally per suaded him to part with the blue serge, since he had kept at least five other old suits to “wear fishing." It was Sunday morning, a dark, dismal Sunday, and right after break fast Warren had declared it would be a good day to get out his sum mer clothes. ’ replied Gordon. “Thank you, Mr. Deery, arm in a slight pressure. “I—I’m obliged to decline.” he felt Mildred’s Angers close on his the week. What night, Mildred?” “Come Thursday, Mr. Kelly,” said Mildred. His heart as light as a feather, Gordon Kelly walked home on aeri form fluid. CHAPTER VII. F ORREST CAIN, having nothing in particular to do except aipuse compliments for that young man, Mr. “Won't you tell me?” “I hope so—some time." “By the way, Mr. Kelly,” said Deery, coming up to where they stood. “You ought to know some of the young men of Atlanta. If you will take lunch with me tomorrow, I will have j'ou meet one of them, Forrest Cain, who, I know, would be glad to moke things pleasant for you while you are in Atlanta.” “Thank you, Mr. Deery,” replied Gordon. “I—■*’ He felt Mildred’B fin gers close on his arm in a slight pressure. “I—I’m obliged to decline. Unfortunately I have another engage ment.” Deery noticed the hesitancy, but made no comment beyond. “Well, some other time, perhaps.” There were cordial invitations to “come again,” at which Gordon said: “I’m not very well versed in eti quette, Mrs. Deery. but am I not en titled to make a ‘party call’?” “You certainly are,” laughed Mrs. Deery, “come and see us the last of himself and having plenty of money to do it with, spent consider able time every year in New York. He usually took three yearly trips and sometimes four to the metropolis, besides spending several weeks there in the hot season. In New Yofk he always lived at the Niagara Club, so called because it flowed on with a roar from day to day and from month to month and from year to year. It never closed its doors. One could get a drink, or a meal, there at any hour of the day or night. Its member ship consisted largely, of wealthy young men of leisure—the same kind of New Yorkers in New York that Cain was in Atlanta. It was the sort of a club to appeal to a man of Cain’s habits and inclinations. The lure of Broadway and the call of the Niagara Club sounded from afar In the ears of Forrest Cain early In March, and he promptly made preparations for a trip t€> New York, completely forgetting the promise he had n»ade«-to Galen l>eervvio take the young man from the mountains in tow. Transportation was secured for the following Thursday night. Cain engaging a stateroom on a Pull man car. Twice on Tuesday and twice on Wednesday he called up the Deery residence on the telephone, but the maid who answered the ring, after ascertaining who it was that was calling, told him Miss Deery was not at home. Early Thursday night he called up again, with the same result. Thereupon he proceeded to his club and spent the few hours be fore train time with convivial com panions. Knowing the habitual in clinations of through Southern trains to be late, he took the precaution, about the time he should have left for the depot, to call up and find out about this particular train, and learned that it was nearly two hours behind schedule. He then took an other Chance of finding Mildred Deery, but the same maid assured him tnat she was not at home. Re questing that she* be Informed that he was leaving that night for New York, he hung up the receiver. He then remembered that he had some orders to give regarding the overhauling of his automobile, and walked around to the garage, which was only a short distance frpm his club. He arrived just in time to dodge a smart shower of rain. As he was giving his instructions, the telephone In the office of the garage Tang, and the* proprietor answered the call. Cain heard half the con versation. "Yes, this is the garage. Yes, Miss Deery. Yes, I understand. I’ll have a car around in five minutes. All right. Goodbye.’’ “Where is she telephoning from?” asked Cain. “From her home. She has a guest there who evidently doesn’t care to walk home in the rain. So much the better for the automobile business. Every little helps.” “And they told me she wasn’t at SYNOPSIS. Gordon Kelly, a young North Geor gia mountaineer, comes to Atlanta to get a place with Billy Smith’s Crackers. It is raining when he reaches Ponce DeLeon and he is nearly run over by an auto, in which are two persons—a man and a young girl. The driver of the car is an ar rogant fellow The girl makes him stop the machine. She gets out and inquires If Kelly is injured. She apologizes for her companion’s brusque manner. Kelly sees Mana ger Smith am tells him he has never played a game of ball. Smith con sents to flive Kelly a trial. The girl in the auto is Mildred Deery, daugh ter of Galen Deery, a crafty and wealthy speculator in timber lands. Her companion is Forrest Cain, a rich, young man about town. Kelly owns timber land that Deery would like to possess. Now go on with the story. home,” said Cain to himself, gritting his teeth. “What do you know about that?” Who was this favored guest, he wondered, and why was he, For rest Cain, told repeatedly that Miss Deery was “not at home?” An idea seized him. He would find out for himself. He had more than an hour to spare. His baggage was taken care of and his man, George, was waiting for him at the depot with his gfripsack. He would play the role of. chauffeur and drive the car to the Deery residence and take the favored guest to his home, after which he would return to the garage and have himself driven to the depot Pulled His Cap Down. “Lend me a coat and cap, Davis,” said Cain to the owner of the garage. “I need some air before I get on that stuffy train. I’ll drive the car and collect the fare and bring back every penny of it.” Cain was one of the best customers of the garage, and he was an expert driver, so the proprietor readily gave his consent. Slipping on a lohg tan coat and pulling a cap well down over his eyes, Cain climbed into a touring car. The top was up, and the cur tains were in place to keep out the rain. An employee cranked the car, and with Cain at the wheel it moved slowly out of the garage. Arriving at the Deery residence, Cain sounded the horn to Indicate that the car was there. A moment later the front door opened and the figure of a man holding an umbrella to be protected^ from the smart rain ran down the path to the sidewalk. Cain pulled his cap further down over his eyes and waited for the umbrella to be lowered. An electric light blazed only a few feet away. As he reached the side of the car, the man threw open the door, closed the umbrella with a snap and entered the vehicle. Quick as were his movements In or der to avoid the rain, Cain was able to recognize his passenger the same young man he had so nearly run over in front of Ponce DeLeon Park in the furious rainstorm of Saturday morning; in short, it was, as the reader knows, George Kelly. Cain stifled his rage and demanded in a gruff voice: “Where to?” “Imperial Hotel,” replied Kelly. As he put the car in motion, wild thoughts filled the mind of Forrest Cain. For the first time in his life he was evidently not having his own w r ay in a matter he had undertaken. Ever since he w r as old enough to walk he had ruled the Cain house hold. As a boy he w’as arrogant and self-willed. Since his father died, nine years before, he had shared with his sister the income from a large for tune. His money had enabled him to have everything he wanted. A few weeks ago he had made up his mind to marry Mildred Deery. It is true that she was not aware of this de cision,and what her true feelings in regard to him were he did not know', nor did this matter trouble him much. Was he not one of the richest, if not the richest, bachelor in Atlanta? Was he not considered the great “catch? Why, then, should he not marry the girl that suited his fancy? Things had gone along swimmingly, he flattered himself, until this young man had crossed his path and had nearly met his death in doing so. He acknowledged to himself that he was a little rough in his talk to the fellow that day and Mildred had taken of fense. But he had tried hard to “square” himself—to make amends. Had he not sent her flowers? Had he not repeatedly tried to talk with her over the telephone? Had he not tried twice that very night to do so and w f as he not told that she was “not at home?” Cain was boiling wfth anger as his thoughts reached a sort of climax. She was not at home to him, Jt seemed, but she was at home to this stranger. Who was this man? How did Mildred find out who he was and where ho lived? There must be a s»top to the whole business. And he, Forrest' Cain, was the man to stop it. Here was his chance. He would— The car had arrived at the end of the street. To go to the Imperial Hotel a turn should be made to the right. Instead of doing this, however. Cain turned to the left and took a direction that would lead out of town. He speeded up the machine to the limit of its capacity, with a vague idea of intimidating the passenger on the rear seat, and the car flew down a hill at a terrifying pace. Rain was still falling sharply, making the roads wet and slippery and the car rolled and tossed and skidded In an alarm ing manner. Signs of Spring. The elevator boy had brought the trunk from the basement, and now Warren’s summer suits were spread over the chairs and window sills of two rooms, and the whole place was filled with the odor of moth balls. “Well, all right, then,” reluctantly, as he threw’ down the blue serge. Give that to the elevator boy if you want to—but that’s ALL! Under stand? The rest of these I’m going to keep. You’ve got a perfect mania for giving my clothes away. I notice you're not any too keen on getting rid of yours. What in thunder’s that?” as something crunched under his heel. ‘Oh, it’s a moth ball, dear. Be careful, don’t step on any more.” “Why the devil don’t you get cam phor? Don’t smell half as bad as these infernal things." “But camphor's so much more ex pensive. These are just as godd and they're only 5 cents a pound. I’ve got some fresh ones to put in with your winter clothes.” Helen had already gotten out War ren’s winter suits and was begin ning to pack them in the trunk.” “Well, I can’t see that you need me here. Try to air out this place be fore I get back. Hold on, there; bet ter not put in that overcoat. I may need that yet.” So Warren w’ent out for his Sun day morning walk, w’hile Helen was left to pack away his winter suits. At last she had them all in, and the trunk was ready to be sent back to the basement. The elevator boy took ft down, and with a pleased consciousness of tip ping him well. Helen gave him the blue serge suit. It was several mornings afterwards that Warren looked through his closet, now hung with the Summer suits, which had in the meantime been well aired and pressed. ” Where’s that bine serge?” he called. “Had that pressed yet?” “Oh, yes, dear, the tailor sent them all back yesrterday. It’s right there— hanging right in front.” “Well, I don’t see it," he grumbled. “This closet’s so infernally dark—you can’t see a blame thing.” Then a few moments’ silence in which he looked again. “Well, if ft’s here I can’t find it.” "Wait dear, I’ll come.” “He won’t be on no more, ma’am. He’s been discharged.’' “DISCHARGED!” “Yes, ma’am, the superintendent laid him off this morning.” There was nothing for Helen to do but to see the superintendent and try to get the boy’s address. What if he had already worn the suit?..But Helen dared not think of that possibility. “So he stole something from you, too, did he?” was the superintend ent’s first comment when Helen asked him about the boy. “Stole something? Why, no, but I gave him a suit of Mr. Curtis’ Dy mistake.” The superintendent seemed reliev ed. “Well, he stole from other ten ants—that’s why I had to get rid of him. I'm sorry, Mrs. Curtis, that I haven’t his address, but you might get it from the employment agency where I engaged him.” In desperation Helen explained about the suit. “Oh, a blue serge? Why, that’s downstairs now. I wouldn’t let him take it away—thought he stole that, too.” “No. no, I gave it to him. But I thought I was giving him another suit.” The superintendent brought it up, and to Helen's infinite relief it was wrapped in newspaper, just as she had given It to the boy. He had tom a hole in the paper to see what it was like, but plainly it had not been unwrapped. Overjoyed by her good luck, Helen promptly took the suit to the little tailoring shop around the comer to be pressed. The very next morning Warren asked about “that blue serge suit.” “Yes, dear, I had it pressed yester day. It’s hanging right there in your closet.” Warren got it out and looked it over with a curious puzzled expres sion. To be Continued To-morrow. DON’T DO IT. D ear miss Fairfax: Can I gain a man s respect by allowing him to kiss me good night after a little evening’s out ing? I have reference to a very fine young man whom I have known but a short time. I am 19 years old. I am sure no man s lasting regard is won that way. Save your kisses for the man you love. 99 “Just Say HORLICK’S It Means Original and Genuine MALTED MILK The Food-drink for All Ages. More healthful than Tea or Coffee. Agrees with the weakest digestion. Delicious, invigorating and nutritious. Rich milk, malted grain, powder form. A Quick lunch prepared in a minute. Take no substitute.Ask foi HORLICk S Others are imitations. THIS, TOO, SHALL PASS AWAY By ELLA WHEELER WILCOX. Copyright, 1913, by Star Company. A MIGHTY monarch in the days of old Made offer of high honor, wealth and gold To one who should produce in form concise A motto for his guidance, terse yet wis A precept, soothing in his hours forlorn, Yet one that 1n his prosperous days would warn. Many the maxim sent the king, men say, The one he chose: “This, too, shall pass away.” Oh, jewel sentence from the mine of truth! What riches it contains for age or youth! No stately epic measured and sublime, So comforts, or so counsels, for all time As these few words. Go write them on your heart And make them of your daily life a part. The dark to-day leads into light to-morrow; There is no endless joy, no endless sorrow. Are you upon earth’s heights? No cloud in view? Go read your motto once again: This, too, Shall pass away. Fame, glory, place and power, They are but little baubles of the hour, Flung by the ruthless years down in the dust. Take warning and be worthy of God's trust. Use well your prowess while it lasts; leave bloorn, Not blight, to mark your footprints to the tomb. The truest greatness lies in being kind, The truest wisdom In a happy mind. He who desponds, his Maker’s judgment mocks The gloomy Christian Is a paradox. Only the sunny soul respects its God. Since life is short we need to make it broad, Has some misfortune fallen to your lot? This, too, will pass away—absorb the thought, Since life is brief we need to make Then keep the old king’s motto well bright, sight, And wait; your waiting will not be in vain, Time gilds with gold the iron links of pain. Anu let its meaning permeate o n’h da Whatever comes—This, loo, shall i>aas \ NY man who 1s married to a fine housekeeper is a most unfortunate creature,” said the easy-going man. “It is not pleas ant to live in the same block with one. “A splendid housekeeper is much like a hawk—always on the lookout to descend upon some one and stick her claws into him or her, mostly him. "That style of housekeeper, like a hawk, keeps mostly out of sight, busy away off somewhere. Then when you are Sitting on a tabouret, there 1s a whirr—and down she .comes! Right on your neck with her talons! “I know the husband of a fine housekeeper who has to pull off his shoes and climb up the banisters to keep from soiling the carpet on the stairs, and he even gets into trou ble for scratching the banisters «i little in sliding down them. ‘ Another man I know has to wash his face and hands out in the laun- I dry so that he wouldn’t mess up the ibedoilied bathroom. Others take their baths at the club or go without. “A hawk woman will descend upon a scrap of 'paper on the lawn, and should any unfortunate person catch a glimpse of her face at such a time he will not soon forget it! One would think that the scrap of paper wan guilty of all the crime* in the calen dar. “Such a woman is never happy and never satisfied. Life Is Just one messy thing after another. Eating is \ I dreadful performance, to be endured like the boring of a cavity or the kil!- ing of. a nerve in i tooth. “Sleeping did housekeeper as saw sharpening is to a violin professor. “If an uncle from the country comes Into such a woman’s parlor with his boots on and trailing behind him his nine hobble-shoed children, and they »!t on the furniture and swing their Uas and eat candy and play Jacks and shoot marbles and slide down the banisters and have a pillow fight, It results fatally for the poor woman." One of Two Thing’s. A Kentucky mountain woman fell ill and for the first time 1n his life her husband had to work. It devolved upon him to nurse the Invalid, look after a large family of tow-headed children, milk the row, feed the pig. cook the meals and tend a straggly half acre of corn. At the end of ten days of these frightful labors he stag gered dow n to the general store at the forks of the road and fell at the door- w’ay In an exhausted heap. The storekeeper came out and said: “Halloa, Anse. how's yore wife?” “She ain’t no better,” moaned the husband. "I paid out a whole four bits for a bottle of bitters for her, but It seems like hit don’t do her no good. I’m plumb wore out!” He paused a moment and sighed deeply. ’•Sometimes,’' he said, “I git to within* the old woman would git well somethin’!” is another filthy habit, untidy bedR and horrid I wrinkly linen. “Having people walking on the car- I iu u Omit ll » iiluutiuiii - - If*? KODAKS Th« B«»t FlnhMfi* and Kularj- iuj Thai Cm B« Produeag." Kastman Films and co»- plc.tr atoofe amateur auppltaa. tjuick m*l! **rrl * for fusion.-ra. Send for Catalog and Price Llat. A. Ko HAWK.ES CO, K or The Wrong Suit. Helen, who was not quite dressed, hurried in with her hair down, and looked through the long line of suits which hung on their hangers 1n War ren's wardrobe. “Why, here it is—almost in front.” “No, that’s the old one. Thought you said you were going to give that away.” "The—the OLD one!” stammered Helen. “Why—why it can’t be ” She had taken it to the light, but fortunately her back was to Warren, and he did not see her face. It WAS the old one. She had given the good one away! “Oh, I remember,” hastily, as she hung the suit back. “The sleeve lin ing was ripped in the other coat and 1 wanted to sew it before it was pressed. And I—I decided not to give this old one away—after all you might want to wear It fishing some time.” “H umph! Thought you were so keen She Confesses. “Huh, that's funny! Guess I was wrong this time.” “Wrong? Why, What do you mean, dear?” “Well, I thought you couldn't pro duce it—that’s all. I’d an idea that you'd gotten those blue suits mixed— and given the wrong one to that boy.” “Why, Warren—how could you think that?” flushing quickly. “Why I told you I—I wanted to fix the sleeve lining before it was pressed.” “I know you did, and you acted mighty blamed suspicious, too. You’re always lying out of a thing when you get in a hole.” Then, with a keen glance at Helen’s flushed face: “I’m not sure yet that I wasn’t right.” There was a moment’s tense silence. Warren was buttoning a pair of sus penders on the blue serge trousers, while Helen was fumblingly putting on a hanger the coat he had worn yesterday. “Eh? How about it?” he persisted with another searching glance at her averted face. She hung th© coat on the rod In the closet, then turned with a sudden defiant; “Very well, you were RIGHT! I DID make a mistake—I DID give that suit to the elevator boy! But you needn’t hesitate to wear it—it hadn’t even been unwrapped. And if I’m always lying out of things it’s your fault! You’ve raged and stormed at me so that when anything goes wrong—I’m AFRAID to tell you the truth!” Wise Child. “You see, had the lamb been obedi ent and stayed in the fold it would not have been eaten by the wolf, would it?*’ Boy—No, ma'am; it would have been eaten by us. i Hr 2‘«g»» .»■•■■■•«■ WHI dial! SiSiSiSri’ ail! ’inii iiiiiiai midi tm [PU^E SILK, GLOVES] When you visit the Glove Department of your favorite store, do not merely ask for “a pair of silk gloves.” Specify the kind. Do not accept substitutes. You will be pleased with the results. They wear longer, are better and cost no more than any other good kind. Finger tips are double,and each pair contains a guarantee ticket. Colorings are up to the instant from a style point of view. Ask your dealer. If he cannot supply you, send us his name. We will supply you through him. Niagara Silk Mills North Tonawanda, N. Y. New York Chicago Boston San Franciaco L