Atlanta Georgian. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1912-1939, June 03, 1913, Image 7
ML
Their Married Life
Warren Takes Helen for a Chop Suey Dinner at
a Chinese Restaurant.
By MABEL HERBERT URNER.
J T was Helen’s first glimpse of a
real Chinese restaurant. The black
teakwood tables, the colored lan
terns. the gilded dragons—her quick
glance swept over it all with eager
interest.
The stolid Chinese waiters made no
pretense at seating them, and Warren
ehose a table by a window.
There were no chairs, andi the teak
wood stools were without backs and
were very high. Helen's feet dangled
uncomfortably, but for once she was
' too absorbed to ask for a footstool.
The thing that Impressed her most
was the tables. The black wood was
wonderfully carved and inlaid with
pearl. The tops were rtf a reddish brown
marble, which was not hidden, for there
were no table cloths.
“Take a look over that and see
what you want." as Warren shoved to
ward her a bill of fare.
Helen looked helplessly over the long
line of Chinese characters and the
English translations that were almost
as bewildering.
“Why, dear. I don’t know anything
about these dishes."
“Well, now. let's see." He w'as
frowning over the soup list “Here’s
yat ko min, whatever that is, and
bird’s nest soup and shark’s fin soup.”
“But, dear, look—$2.50! Why.* that’s
an awful price for soup. I thought
Chinese restaurants were cheap.” t
“They are. Look at the rest of the
prices. But shark fin seems to be their
swell dish. Want to try it? No? Then,
how about bird’s nest soup? That’s only
$1.60.”
Much Cheaper.
“Why, Warren, that’s an ABSURD
price for soup. But this sounds inter
esting Soup, with chicken, mush
rooms. egg. bamboo shoots, etc., and
H’s only 35 cents. Let’s try that.’’
“All right Now how about the chop
suey? What kind do you want?”
“Oh, any kind,” murmured Helen, be
wildered at the list of chop sueys. f
“How does this strike you—‘chop suey
with boneless chicken, pineapple, water
nuts, etc.?’ Wonder what the ‘etc.* is?”
A waiter approached now with his air
of stolid Oriental indifference. While
they were giving him the order another
Chinaman brought them some tea. Evi
dently tea was served with every order.
It was not brought in a teapot, but in
a howl covered with a closely-fitting
i saucer, that kept back the leaves when
ft was poured out in the small handle-
less cups
“By Jove, that’s good tea,’’ as War
ren refilled his cup.
Then the soup came in decorated
bowls with quaint china spoons. It was
thick with chicken and mush rooms, and
an egg had evidently neen broken in
^ach bowl and cooked by the heat of
che soup.
“Oh what are these little crisp,
rrunchv things?” Helen, was trying to
fish out a bit of something with the
short china spoon
“Think that s bamboo shoots. Good,
aren’t they?” .
Then came the chop suey in a large
bowl, with two small bowls heaped up
with rice. , ,, ^ „
“Oh. dear, don t—don t give me so
much' I may not like it,” for Warren
was helping her most liberally to the
Ch "?oi?fi y illte It. all right. Now what
are vou trying to find? as Helen he-
gan investigating It suspiciously with
h< Dark k mlxtures in food did not. appeal
to Helen, and she lested it doubtfully.
But she was soon eating it with rel-
* 8 *"Pretty good, eh? How about this
rice 0 Takes an Oriental to book rice
like that Every grain whole No 'ven
der they never eat bread. This rice Is a
darn sight better than most of the
bakers’ dope.”
Mysterious Sauce.
Until now Helen had not realized that
they had neither bread nor butter, hut
she found that both were unknown in
a Chinese restaurant.
The waiter had broi*»lrt them each a
tiny dish, about the size of an individ
ual butter plate, filled with a dark
brown sauce.
"What do vou suppose this is? Helen
sniffed at it critically.
Must be that Chinese sauce they utensils about,
make out of walnuts. Yes, that's it,”
THE WORKINGMAN’S FOOD.
The man who tolls hard all day
needs strengthening food. A lot of
meat is not essential to nourish and
sustain the system.
, A 10c package of Faust Spaghetti
contains more nutrition than 4 lbs
of beef. Faust Spaghetti is made
from Durum Wheat, the cereal that
overflows in gluten—the food-content
that makes muscle, bone and flesh.
Faust Spaghetti costs one-tenth
•the price of meat—contains more
nutrition—is easier digested and
makes a savory, appetising dish.
Write for free recipe book. Sold
in 5 and 10c packages—at al! gro
cers.
MAULL BROS.
St. Louis, Mo.
as he poured some on his chop suey.
“Fine!”
Helen, still skeptical, dropped some
on a bit of rice. It was salty and bit
ter, but very’ appetizing, and she soon
emptied the little dish.
Every one drank quantities of tea.
The waiter brought them a fresh pot
of hot water to pour on their tea leaves
in the saucer Covered bowls.
“Want to try chop sticks with your
chop suey?” asked iVarren, nodding to
ward a couple of men at a corner ta
ble, who were skillfully dispatching their
food with long slender sticks. “Guess
I'd better buy some. We’ll want those
first hand.”
“Why, can you BUY them?”
“Course you can. Every Chinaman
has his own chop sticks. Carries ’em
in his pocket. I say—you!” beckoning
to the waiter. ‘‘How much are your
chop sticks?”
“Fifteen cents a pair, sir.”
“All right, bring us each a pair.”
Helen examined curiously the slender
black sticks when they were laid beside
her plate.
“Let’s see. which is the working end?”
mused Warren. “Oh, here we are!
This is the way it’s done,’’ holding the
sticks between his thumb, first and third
fingers and successfully conveying with
them a bit of chicken to his mouth.
“Try it! No, you hold them like this.”
But Helen only succeeded in getting
some chop suey on the floor. “I’d rather
eat my dinner wfth a fork,” and she
laid down the sticks decisively. “I can’t
imagine any one choosing to eat with
those thinks.”
Easy for Him.
“Look over there! Watch that Chink.
That’s the real thing.’’
Helen followed Warren's glance to a
solitary Chinaman who was eating his
dinner at a side table. He had just
drawn from his pocket a pair of chop
sticks, gravely wiped them on one of the
paper napkins, and promptly delved into
a huge bowl of chop .suey.
“But it doesn’t seem quite clean to
carry them in one’s pocket.”
"It’s a darned sight cleaner than to use
forks and spoons that’ve been used by
anybody who $an pay for a meal. Talk
about germs ”
“Oh, Warren, don’t! DON'T say such
things when we’re eating!” pushing back
her plate with a gesture of revuLsion.
“You’re too squeamish. Through?
Want some preserves? That’s what
you’re supposed to finish up with at
these places. Here they are,” scanning
the menu, “ ‘Imported Chinese pre
serves, golden limes. Canton giner, ptne-
aople, green plums and li-chee nuts.’
What’ll it be?”
“I always liked preserved ginger,”
ventured Helen.
“You can get that anywhere. Let’s
try those limes and the li-chee nuts.
Wonder if we can get any kind of a cor
dial here?’’
The waiter informed them that they
served no cordials and no wine—except
rice wine. .
“ ‘Rice wine?’ ” reheated Warren.
“Sounds .interesting—what’s it like?”
“Very nice. A little sweet. Makes
nice cordial.”
"All right. We’ll try it,” agreed War
ren. “And bring us an order of those
preserved limes and some U-chee nuts.”
Helen was delighted with the limes.
They * were like golden balls, each
speared on a toothpick. The straw-col
ored rice wine was brought in a tiny,
long-spouted pot with two miniature
cups and saucers. The outfit looked
more like a doll’s tea set. than anything
else. , .
“Huh, these things hold about a thim
bleful,'' grumbled Warren. “Tastes like
brandy. Why the devil don't they serve
it in glasses?"
“But. dear, it’s awfully strong.
It WAS strong, and before they left
Helen felt the Chinese wine tingling
through her.
The Kitchen.
As they made their way out. the
waiter as*ed if they would like to see
the kitchen. Evidently that was part
of the program of all Americans dining
in -Chinatown.
Helen hesitated, fearing if she saw
the kitchen she might never be able to
eat there again. But Wiuren stalked
In, and she had no choice but to fol-
*' The place was scrupulously clean and
curiously bare. There were very few
bout. Under the long tables
were big baskets of bean sprouts, on
ions celery, bamboo shoots and Chi
nese cabbage. A white-coated China
man was stirring something on the
stove.
“Pretty clean, eh?" declared Warren
“Told you these Orientals were clean
about their cooking. Make mighty good
servants, too. See here, if Maggie is
leaving us in the lurch, how about hav
ing a Chinese cook?"
Helen had no intention of having a
Chinese cook, even though they were
clean, but she did not think It neces
sary to argue that point then.
They made their way down the steep,
narrow steps, and found themselves
again in Pell Street, crooked and pic
turesque. To Helen the houses with
the wooden balconies, hung with glowing
Chinese lanterns, seemed more like a
stage setting than a real New lork
street.
She paused before one of the most
alluring of the Chinese shops. The win
dow was filled with embroideries, carved
ivories, Chinese sandals, fans and many
things Oriental.
“Dear, let’s go in here and get some
of that sandalwood incense. Mrs. Ste
vens got some down here and it was
wonderful. And we might find some
thing for Carrie’s birthday—you know
that’s the 15th. and we’ll have to get
her something."
“Oh, come on!” Warren strode on im
patiently. “We don’t want any of that
junk. It’s after 10 now How do you
want to go home? Subway?”
IT
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Copyright. 1013, Interna ticmal Nm Service.
Flowers Instead of Jewels S BY NELL BRINKLE\
-Nell Brinkley Says
“P
^LOWERS on breast and
hair, at elbows, girdle and
knees!”—instead of jewels
—says Madame Fashion's crier.
Into my hand the editor thrust a
picture of a nymph-like girl some
months ago. There were flowers
in her black parted hair, a blossom
between her teeth, flowers in the
lap of her gown, flowers strung
about her waist and neck, ropes
of flowers in her hands, a knot in
her bosom. “See this,” said she.
“This reminds me—why not tell
the girls to try it instead of the
phony and otherwise Jewelry they
decorate their pretty selves with?
“Couldn’t they look just as fetch
ing with a flower over their ears
instead of a pearl, whose sheen
would melt off if you licked it,
dangling from them? Wouldn’t a
rose at the clasp of their girdles
make as daring a spot of color as
a gemmed buckle? Wouldn’t a
rosebud—silk or the dewy real
thing—be as fascinating above the
dimple in a girl s elbow as a rhine
stone buckle? Wouldn’t it? If you
think so, tell ’em that.”
And I do think so and I’m telling
you that And here, so soon after,
comes along a note in a smart
magazine—a magazine full of sum
mery gowns, and parasols, and van
ity bags, and what to do with a
neck that looks two shades darker
than the face that. <oes with It,
and how to make your fingers taper
on the ends, and all about the new
puffs in the s.eeves, and—and—all
that sort of thing—and the note
says, “Flowers all over my lady’s
gown this Summer.” And there
you are. If you DO do it you aren’t
going to be Out from under the
comfy sunshine of Fashion’s smile.
And. just for itself, it’s a mighty
pretty way of fussing up. If you
are of those ease-lapped maids
whose every little toilet box or bot
tle is topped with gold, the flower-
knots at your breast, your elbows,
your knees, in your hair, will be
fresh and real. Your gems would
hardly cost you more, for flowers
Some Rules for Husbands Who
Complain
By DOROTHY DIX.
S AYK ( the young- husband irritably
to his wife: "I wish you could
learn to make bread like my
mother made it.”
Says the young wife tartly to her
husband: “I wish you could learn to
make dough like my father made it.’
This story is an ancient chestnut of
the domestic variety, but it enjoys a
well-deserved immortality, because it
presents to us in a nutshell, as It
were, the chief reason of why mar
riage is so often a failure.
It is because* both husband and
wife are more concerned with con
templating the other’s deficiencies
than they are their own lack of ef
ficiency.
This is particularly true of men who
are so busy watching their wives’
faults that they haven’t time to no
tice how far they fall short of making
good themselves. And men could,
with profit, occasionally reflect .that
If their wives do not always measure
up to. their ideal of what a perfect
woman should be, they also bear no
striking resemblance to the romantic
heroes and demigods that their wives
thought they were marrying.
Always Scolding.
There is the man, for injftance, who
Is always scolding his wife about her
extravagance, and who is threatened
with an epileptic attack every time
the hills come in on the first of the
month. If there in a martyr on earth,
he knows that he is that afflicted In
dividual. and he sheds tears of self-
pity when he thinks of how his good
money goes for hats and gowns and
Paris con feat ions.
Instead of blaming his wife so much
for spending money. It would be salu
tary for his soul for him to remember
that if he were a better business man,
or if he hustled a little more, he could
afford to give his wife the things she
wants. Perhaps if he didn’t waste so
much, money on smokes and drinks
and poker, what his wife spends
wouldn’t come so near to breaking his
heart.
Then there’s the man who com
plains that his wife nags, and that as
a curtain lecturer, especially along
about 2 o’clock in the morning, she Is
a world beater. He considers himself
a sadly misused man, and wonders
what his guardian angel was doing
when he got tied up*with that kind of
a wife.
Wouldn’t it make for reformation
if he would sit down and consider his
own delinquencies instead of his
wife’s performances? No woman mar-
rt*s tor th$ ple*ftire of sitting up at
home by herself, through a lonely
evening, waiting to open the door for
a man who can’t find the keyhole
himself, and if under such circum
stances she does utter a few surging
thoughts, he should, at least, have the
justice to admit that he inspired them
by his conduct. The man who »j>ends
his evening in the bosom of his family
doesn’t have to explain where he has
been.
Then there’s the man who bemoans
his fate because his wife isn’t domes
tic, and because she has the society
bet or the club bee In her bonnet and
never w'ants »to stay at home.
A Little Thought.
Wouldn’t it be a (rood thing for
him to think a few thoughts about
how much he’s ever done to make
home attractive to her? Wouldn't It
be only fair for him to reflect that
while he expected his wife to stay
put in the house, he was spending his
evenings at the club or the corner
saloon or some other place where
there wets something doing? Also
that when he did stay at home he
snoozed over his paper from dinner
till bedtime, and was Just about as
conversationally thrilling as a stufTed
bear would have been.
Honestly, now Mr. Man, did you
ever know a single, solitary case
where a woman wasn't nailed to her
own fireside if she had the luck to
Up-to-Date Jokes
be married to a husband who was
good-natured and genial and corn-
pan ionable, and who took a real
heart interest in Oriental rugs and
curtains and casserole cooking?
Whenever you see a woman going
mad over clubs or society or philan
thropy set It down that she Is mar
ried to a man who has no more do
mestic instincts than a fox terrier,
and that she has given up trying to
make a home by herself and is at
tempting to fill in her life with a man
ufactured interest.
And there* Is the man who sobs
over himself because he has out
grown his wife, and at forty-five she
is fat and dowdy and commonplace,
while he’s better looking and more
fascinating than he ever was before
in his life. If this doesn't entitle him
to an affinity, he doesn’t know what,
would.
Does he ever ask himself how his
wife came to be what she is, while
he Is what he is? Does h© ever think
that the reason he is so prosperous
is because her economy laiifl the
foundations of his fortune and he
climbed up to success on her should
ers? That's why they are so bent.
Her complexion went In the first few
years after their marriage when she
burnt It out over the kitchen stove
to save the price of a cook. Those
knots on her fingers represent the
days she toiled over the washtub. The
luster of her eyes dimmed In the long
nights when she walked sick babies,
or sewed endless little clothe6. All
the energy of her went to pushing
him forward, and if she lags behind
it’s because of what she gave him
and he accepted. It’s his fault more
than hers.
And there’s the man who says bit
terly that his wife no longer cares
for him, and that he's nothinjpfbut a
money-making machine for heri
Why Should She?
Does he ever ask himself why his
wife should love him? What does he
do to keep the sacred fir© alight on
the altar of her heart? He supports
her. He supplies her with food and
clothes. Any woman who keeps
house earns her hoard and keep. You
pay a cook or housemaid more than
that, so that makes no claim of
gratitude upon a wife.
A man who keeps his wife's love
must do more than pay her bills. If
you don’t, if you never show her any
little delicate attention, If you never
make love to her, if you rarely ppeak
to her except to find fault, what’s to
keep her from falling in love with
some other man? What’s to prevent
her from feeding her hungry heart
with the affection some other man
offers her? Consider that side of the
question, Mr. Man.
When a marriage turns out. badly
the man Invariably blames it on his
wife, but the fault is his oftener than
it is hen* He’s guilty of at 'least
contributory negligence.
droop and are gone in an hour. So
will your extravagant little soul be
satisfied.
If you are of those little maids
who have to tussle a little, or
whose dads do, for the few evening
gowns you sport there are some
wonderful flower makers In town,
and the pretty fake-blossoms they
fashion are almost as lovely as the
new-cut roal ones. And they never
die. There’s the satisfaction for
your tender soul and your slender
pocketbook!
Try it! For the buckle on your
pump—a flower; for the gems in
your hair and ears—flowers; for
the slash in your gown—flowers
where now there Is a gem!
\ STOCK BROKER was telling the
other day how a girl, recently
married to a colleague of his on the
Stock Exchange, suspected th^.t her
husband had been indulging too freely
in the cup that cheers. She deter
mined to find out beyond doubt
whether her suspicions were well
founded.
To a friend she confided the source
of her trouble, and from this friend
she learned that It had always been
said that a man even slightly intoxi
cated can not pronounce words of any
length. Whereupon the young wife
decided that that would be a good
plan to try.
When next the friend met the young
wife she was in a state of great agi
tation. Asked if the suspicions had
been verified, the girl burst into tears
and said that they had.
“I handed him tnis list,” she said,
between sobs, fishing from her pocket
a paper which she gave to her friend,
and which contained the following
words: Phthisis, photochromy, gnom-
lometrical, hypochondriasis. para
chronism. phlegmasia, dolens, syn-
categorematic, antinomianism. pseu-
daethesia
“And," she continued, while her
friend read the list, “he bungled
nearly half of them.”
Advice to the Lovelorn
By BEATRICE FAIRFAX.
NO TO BOTH.
y\EAlt MISS FAIRFAX:
Is it proper for a gentleman to
ask a lady to dance with him with
out an introduction at a public
dance hall? Or is it proper for a
lady to dance with a gentleman
without first being introduced?
J. M
A gentleman will not ask a girl to
dance with him unless he has been
properly introduced, and if he so far
forgets himself she would refuse if she
has proper regard for herself.
WRITE HIM TO THAT EFFECT.
r\EAR MISS FAIRFAX
I would like to ask your ad
vice. I had a quarrel with a friend,
and a week: later he sent a friend
over asking if I wish to speak to
him again. But I refused, and now
I realize my mistake and would
like to renew our friendship.
PUZZLED.
A friendly little note will bring him
back to your side if he is in the same
mood. If he disdains your attempt at
reconciliation, let the matter drop.
A TIMELY DISCOVERY.
rXEAK MISS FAIRFAX:
I am 20 and for the past seven
months have loved a girl very much,
and have taken her to several
amusement places. I created her
like my own sister and always let
her have her own way She Is 17
and considered pretty. The reason
I am writing to you Is that I have
failed to care much for her for the
past three weeks. I am thinking
I do not love her as much as I used
to. J. M K.
That is not a serious discovery for a
youth of 20 to make concerning hi* feel
ings for a girl of 17. If you no longer
love her, you owe It to her to step aside
and give some other man a chance.
The next time be more sure of your
self
He Was Laid Up, Too.
“This paper.” said Languid Lewis,
“tells about a horse runnin’ away with
a woman, an’ she was laid up for wix
weeks.”
“That’s nothin'." rejoined Boastful
Benjamin; “a friend o’ mine ran away
with a horse, an’ he was laid up for
six years.”
Pretty Quick.
Irate Customer—You said this cloth
was a fast color, yet it faded in two
weeks after it was made. up.
Draper—Well, I don't think you
ought to expect it to fade any faster
than that. .
“That last thing you sent in was
good,” said the editor; “we all enjoyed
reading it very much.’’
"Well, in. that case,” said the youthful
poet, “I take back what I said in the
letter I wrote to you yesterday about
my determination never to send you
any of my work again.”
The editor slowly shook his head.
‘‘Don’t do that.” he murmured; “why,
that letter is what I referred to!”
* • •
"Noodles is the laziest man I know.
He has an Invention fixed so that by
merely pulling a wire in bed he can
light the fire; but that d«>esn't seem to
| Improve matters."
"Why not?”
“He’s too lazy to pull the wire.”
• • •
Purchaser—But is the parrot a good
bird? I mean, I hope he doesn’t use
dreadful language
Dealer—’E’s a saint, lady; sings 'ymns
beautiful, and I ’ad some parrots wot
used* to swear something hawful, but. If
you’ll believe me, lady, this ’ere bird
converted the lot.
* * *
In the grounds of Sketty Hall, near
Swansea, England, the residence of
I the late Glyn Vivian, is a large, grass-
I entwined gravestone which is probably
unique. It was erected by Mr Vivian
himself to the memory of his lost youth,
and on It are inscribed some pathetic
lamentations in elegant verse.
GIRLS WHO ARE
PALE, NERVOUS
May Find Help in Mrs.
Elston’s Letter About
Her Daughter.
Burlington, Iowa,—"Lydia E. Pink-
ham's Vegetable Compound ha»-cured
my daughter of
weak Tiefs-s., She
was troubled al
most a year'with
it and complained
of backache, go
that I thought she
would be an Inva
lid. She was en
tirely run down,
pale, nervous and
without appetite.
I was very much
discouraged, hut
heard of Lydia E. Pinkham's Vegeta
ble Compound through friends, and
now I praise it because It has cured
my daughter.’’—Mrs. F. M. ELSTON,
R. D. No. 3, Burlington. Iowa.
Case of Another Girt.
Scanlon. Minn.—“I used to be both
ered with nervous spells, and would
cry if anyone was cross to me. I got
awful weak spells, especially In the
morning, and my appetite was poor. I
also had a tender place In my right
side which pained when I did any
hard work. 1 took Lydia E. Pink-
ham's Vegetable Compound and my
symptoms all changed, and I am cer
tainly feeling fine. I recommend it
to every' suffering woman or glrL You
may uso this letter for the good of
others."—Miss ELLA OLSON, 171 5th
St., Virginia, Minn.
Young Girls, Heed This Advice.
Oirls who are troubled with painful
or irregular periods, backache, head
ache, dragging-down sensations,
fainting spells or Indigestion should
Immediately seek restoration to health
by taking Lydia E. Pinkham's Vege
table Compound.
ATLANTIC BEACH HOTEL
Open for the season of 1913 on Saturday, May 31, under the management of Mr. Henry M. Stanford,
manager of the Tampa Bay Hotel.
Splendid eervlce on the American and European plans by the finest staff of steward*, chefs and attend
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The following rates will be in force:
AMERICAN PLAN
One person.ItLa.room, |2L a week and upward
T.wo persons ih one rdotn, $35 a week and upwhrd.
EUROPEAN PLAN '
One dollar a day and upward, without private bath.
Two dollars a day and upward, with bath . , . . ,, . _
A special week-end rate of Five Dollars, including dinner Saturday evening and breakfast Monday
merning _ _ „
Special sea food dinner served every day. One Dollar . , . ^ . ...
The Atlantic Beach Is without an equal as* a resort hotel. Located on the finest beach in the world, wttn
splendid facilities for surf bathing and automobillng Table service unsurpassed and unattempted before
Rooms delightful and comfortable. Cooling breezes Good taaln service to Jacksonville, where close connec
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ATLANTIC BEACH HOTEL
Atlantic Beach, Florida
Address Dept. M.