Atlanta Georgian. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1912-1939, July 24, 1913, Image 10

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1 An Opportunity ToMake Money inventor*, men of idem etui mrenbwe ability, afaoutd wife i©- dey for our list af iavra&oa* needed, and prize* ofered bp leading manufacturer*. ^*.! enU * ecxtn d or our fee returned. **Wbr dona tea solar* Fail. How to Gat Your Patent and Your Money."* and other valuable booklets eeat free to any addrea*. gypg&ta RANDOLPH & CO. P««e«t 4R»run, 7:3 618 “F* Street, N. W.. WAiBISOTOU, D. C. tKODAKS^ “'“'E.itmin. nBIW F' lr *t Class Finishing and En- WHSfete larging. A oomplete stock films, plates, papers, chemicals, eto. Special Mall Order Department for out-of-town customers. 8end for Catalogue and Price List. /I. K. HAWKES CO. Kodak Department | 14 Whitehall St. ATLANTA, GA. FAUST MACARONI Is extremely rich in gluten, being made from Durum wheat, the cereal that ranks high in protein. Very easily digested is Faust Macaroni. Savory, too—write for free recipe book and see how many different ways this strength - building food can be served. At all grocers’—5c and 10c packages ‘ ' MAU1XBROS. St. Louis. Mo. BONES AND FLESH There’s more real nutrition in a 10c package of Faust Macaroni than in 4 lbs. of beef— prove it by your doctor. Little Bobbie’s Pa Beauty Secrets Stella Barre I ells of the Value or Voice One Woman's Story Rock Island Lines through sleeping car to Colorado offers the best service to the Rockies. Electric lighted, fan cooled sleeper through to Colorado Springs, Denver and Pueblo, via Memphis and Kansas City. Dining car service all the way. The Colorado Flyer from St. Louis and the Rocky ISotmtan Limited from Chicago, one night on the road trains—offer splendid service for those desiring to go by St. Louis or Chicago. If you can afford to go anywhere,you can afford a Colorado vacation Board and room $7 per week up. Hundreds of good hotels and boarding houses offer good board for as low as $7 per week, and rooms at $3 peT week. Low Fares Daily, June 1 to September 30 Wri e or call for-handsome Colorado book; and let this office help you plan your trip. H. H. HUNT, District Passenger Agent 18 North Pryor Street, Atlanta, Ga. Telephone, Main 661 Now’s the time to make sure that your children get all the food necessary to build up their muscles and bones and put on flesh. Their physical future depends largely on what they eat now. The Most Exciting Serial of the Year. SERIALIZED By J. W. McCONAUGHY (Copyright, 1913, by Star Co.) TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT. Rusty raised his head and timidly put it out around the angle of the fireplace, where he had taken refuge. "Wha is he?” he asked huskily. His master straightened up, put the revolver back In its holster and pointed grimly to the trap. "Water and a long drop,” he said quietly. "There’s another of the Duke’s men gone.” Rusty got shakily to his feet. ”1 knowed them battleship boogies was spooks,” he observed dolefully. The plural suggested something to Jarvis. He motioned Rusty to stay back, and, picking up the sword, advanced on the second figure. He made two or three feints to strike and got no response. Then he gave it a powerful push with the point. The armor toppled over and fell down the stairs with a hollow clash. It was empty. "I guess he’s harmless.” Rusty Immediately began gathering up the pieces. “I’ll Ax dls one so he won’t jump no mo’!” he declared, savagely. "What are you going to do?" "I’m gonna sink this other battle ship!" f "Hold on—wait a minute. I reckon we can use that," said Jarvis, smiling a little. “It takes a thief to catch a thief, they say. We’ll just out-spook Mr. Ghost. Come on, Rusty," he went on Impatiently, holding up the breast plate and back-piece like an under shirt, “get into this hardware as fast as you can." Rusty drew back with violent head- shakings. "Marse Warren, I don’ wanna be no spook.” "Listen!” commanded his master, sharply. “Somebody was working in this room. It’s a cinch that the treas ure !•* here and it’s a bigger cinch he'll come beck to get it when we are gone.” "You ain’t gonn£ leave me heah alone!" protested the old darkey. The Plan. "Sure! I’m going to put you in this ,so you can watch. I’m going t make a bluff that we’re both gone. You'll be as safe as a church in this. No one would ever think of looking for one of us in this armor. You watch, and when he starts to work—then yell your head off!” “I’ll yell so loud they'll hear me in Kentucky,’’ Rusty assured him, re luctantly permitting himself to be ar mored. "You give your best yell and then I'll nail him." Rusty sniffed doubtfully. "If you don’t nail him he’ll nail me!” Jarvis grunted and fussed over the armor as the right valiant swashbuckler for whom It was constructed was less generously designed amidships than the rotund darky. "Marse Warren,” remarked Rusty, presently, "you mus’ think a heap o’ Miss Princess to go prowlin’ and proj- ec'ing ’roun’ in dis boogy house in de dark.” "What makes you think that?" mum- “Get into this hardware as fast as you can.’’ bled Jarvis, toiling with a rusty clasp. "Marse Warren," said Rusty, solemn ly, "I knowed you since you was a baby.” "What’s that got to do with it? Pull in your breath a little bit." "She gin you dat jew’lry you got ’roun’ your neck, didn’ she? She kind o’ crazy ’bout you,.too, ain’t she?” “How do you know?” inquired Jarvis, his eagerness concealed by the fact that he was bending over in the rear trying to joint the greaves to Rusty’s pon derous calves. “I knows, all right!” declared Rusty. "But how do you know? Quit shifting around!" "We-ell, I’m goin’ to tell you, an’ then you’ll know how I knows. Jus’ ’fore them horses jumped on me—when I was waitin’ in de road—I heard a winder go up slap! An’ dare was de Prinoess a-lookin’ up at de moon, jes’ like a pic- ter. Jes’ a-lookin’ at de moon, an’ she says—an’ she says—” "What did she say?” snapped Jarvis. “ ‘Ah,’ she says, a-lookin’ at de moon, she says, ‘de world am begun all over ag’in fo’ me.’ ” Good News. Warren started and was conscious of a singing in his ears that was not all due to the constant bending over re quired of a squire-at-arms. He held his tongue, knowing a darky’s fondness for sentimental gossip, and Rusty went on: “And den—and den—she go right on an’ she says—she says, ‘Gawd be with A month in Colorado will make your children strong and healthy for a whole year. Take them into the Rocky Mountains and see them grow; watch their cheeks redden and eyes brighten. Your parents could not afford to give you the chance. Colorado was too far away. But the Colorado Flyer from St. Louis has squeezed three-fourths of the distance out of the map. you, my American!* ” A steel thigh-piece slipped through Jarvis’ fingers and clattered to the floor. ‘‘An’,” concluded Rusty, with invinci ble logic, ‘T’se de only American ’roun* heah ’cep’ you, Marse Warren.” “God bless you, Rusty!” said his mas ter, fervently, to himself. But aloud he said, holding up the heavy casque: "Here—put your head in this Stet son. Gloves—here now! How do you feel?” Jarvis surveyed him with a grin. Sancho Panza would have looked a courtly and sprightly cavalier by com parison. "All in,” was the glum response from the hollow depths of the helmet. "Do I look like a spook?” "You’re a wonderful sight!” declared his master, heartily. "Now, Rusty, get over here. Where’s your sword?” A cataclysmic sneeze caused the ar mor to rattle like a junk wagon. "I never heard a ghost sneeze be fore,” chided his master, reprovingly. "Marse Warren, I’se catchin’ cold,’* pleaded the knight, in the hope of par don. "Nonsense! Now, Rusty, keep your ears and eyes open—don’t move a mus- cld. If anyone comes, yell your head off—but don’t sneeze!” "Marse Warren. I wanna go home!” “We haven’t any home, Rusty,” was the sober response, as his master ad justed him on the pedestal. Rusty sighed till the clasps of the armor creaked complaint. "Marse Warren, I don’t evah ’spect to get out o’ dls boogy house nohow.” “Well, Rusty, there are ’ some things ” Jarvis broke off abruptly and threw back his head, motioning Rusty to be quiet. To his ears came a sound so faint and far-off that it was impos sible to decide whether it was a stifled groan near at hand or a call from some distant part of the castle. To Be Continued To-morrow. - By WILLIAM F. KIRK. M ISTER and Missus Riley was up to our house last nite, and thay had thare littel son Tommie with them. He was the freshest kid that I ewer seen, and if I dident know so much moar about boxing than he knows, I wud have took him out in the yard & handed him a few hot wallops, Si beesides, I felt kind of sorry for him beekaus his Pa & Ma kind of spoiled him. All that his Ma sed to him wen he 8|>oak out of his turn was Now. Tommie, that isent nice. I doant think we will move back to the city till skool beeglns aggenn, :ied Pa to the Rileys We like It out here in the country A- beesides. I want Bob bie to stay here as long as possibel A boy Is always better off in the coun try than he Is in the city. Oh, mercy, sed Missus Riley, how can you say that? Why, just think of the advantages that a boy has wen he is getting a city bringing up He Learns Things. My husband doesn’t think so, sed Ma You see. he was born & brought up In a small town. & he says that a boy born & brought up in a small town has more all around training. He can learn to swim & hunt & fish A- row a boat A* hitch up a horse Hr. a lot of other things that maiks a man out of him wen he grows up But a boy in the city can get such perfect manners, sed Missus Riley. Tommie has learned all he knows about manners by assqriating with nice little boys In the city that lern thare man ners from thare private teechers, the little deers. You are always careful about yure manners, aint you, Tommie, sed Missus Riley. I shud worry about manners, sed Tom mie. What do I care about manners. People in Hoboken have all the man ners. sed Tommie. Now. Tommie, that Isent nice, sed Missus Tilley See what a quiet little chap Bobble is. That is beekaus he is a honehead & can’t think of anything to say, sed Tom mie Riley. He beelongs rite up here In the minor league whare he it, that kid. 1 got pritty mad but 1 knew enuff to keep still. My Ma always told me not to start a quarl in the presens of older pee pul. I wuddent st*v in this jay town any longer than I «u<1 help, sed the Riley kid. The peepul here doant kpow they are alive. You know a whole lot fpr a yung man. don’t you, sed Pa. You will grow up to be a regular city feller, all rite, one of them clerks that rides to work & back home in the trolley A talks a ride on Sunday for a outing & then goes around telling what a wise flsh he is. Tommie will never be that kind of a braggart, sed Missus Riley, looking at Pa kind of hard. My littel son knows toe much to be a braggart, doant you, Tommie? Tell it to Sw’eeney, sed Tommie to his mother. Cheese on all that talk about me. Lay off on me and talk about sum- body that doesir’t know anything Now, Tommie, that isent nice, sed his mother. I shud fret and take a sweat, sed thr Riley kid. I shud worry and git gray, be sed 1 Pa Talks. Tommie, sed Pa, as long as vure pa rents will not tell you tbe truth. I am going to. You think you are a vary smart yung man bekaus sumbody taught you how to say, "I shud worry." You can say that you can sing "Snooky Ookums” & part of “In my Harum,” and that lets you out. & then you cum up here in the country & try to maik fun of grown up peepul that knew moar when thay was babies than you will ewer know wen you grow up. You ought to be spanked, Tommie. & sent td bed to think it oaver. Then Tommie looked at Pa kind of fresh & sed Say. this is a queer kind of a country. I guess if he had stayed long I wud have had to soak Tommie, but his Pa At Ma got kind of mad wen they seen we dident like thare son, so thay tool; him hoam. Where Riches Count. The late Mr. Bradley Martin, who was himself a polished wit, used to recall w’ith delight a conversation he overheard between two girls apropos of an aged millionaire’s marriage to a debutante. "I know' he’s rich,” said one, "but isn’t he too old to be considered eligible?" "My dear,” answered the other girl. % ‘*he’s too eligible to be considered old.” 0 Cultu re, By Virginia T. Van de Water. Miss Stella Barre. “W» SPECIAL NOTICE! Wilton Jellico COAL July Delivery Only Place Your Order at Once JELLICO COAL CO. 82 PEACHTREE ST. Ivy 1585 Atlanta 3668 Every Woman i* interested and should know about the wonderful Marvel Douche druggist for HEN I began making vocal ulture a serious study a few years ago—six, to be ac curate.“ said Stella Barre in the most delightfully musical of voices, as we sipped cooling ices after the matinee, "no one except my teacher and rayself believed I had a voice to train. We did believe, though we worked hard to prove It—and now we have a lew fol lowers, haven’t we?” If you have heard Stella Rarre’s top note and a few others below It such as she renders at the performances of "All Aboard" in New York you will agree that she has triumphantly proved the existence of her voice. And a voice is, as we have been told, “an excellent thing in woman.” be it low and sweet, or be it high and sweet; but heaven forefend that any one of us have the high-pitched nasal voice, or the husky, breathy croak that are an unfortunate tradition as the possessions of the American woman. 1 "No amount of study is too hard." aid the charming singer, "if it gives you at last the goal of your dreams. But you have to work with your brain as well as your body. And the thing ! would wan? girls most earnestly aiinst i.4 ’otferfatlgiie. Tt is so easy to think. ’Oh. 1 will Just keep at this \ bit longer,’ and to use up* so much crergv and strength that you infringe •n your reserve store. Now 1 really ractice all afternoon long-but only bout fifteen minutes at a time. I work bit, and then I go off to something uite different, and then back to work, n this way, I probably put in three r four hours’ work with less fatigue han two hours of steady application md overstrain would give "You read so many romances of how he fair telephone girl wins a million - lire husband by saying 'Hello!’ very sweetly to his listening ear There is i something in every tale—fairy or other - j wise—you hear, and whether a girl has | a singing voice or not. a few singing j lessons will vastly improve her speak- J mg voice—and perhaps help to discover another prima donna. A Suggestion. Aikrocn It If bo cannot sup ply (bo MARVEL, accept no other, but •end (.tamp for book mntfe.44LtMSV.AT. "For the girl who can not afford sing ing lessons. I would suggest deep breathing at an open window morning and night, or whenever she has a •hance to try it during the <lay. Then 11 the lungs and hold the breath back of the voice while speaking a few words, gradually increasing the Humber until you have breath control and all the while keeping the voice as deep, clear anil low as possible." “But you don’t think that voice alone Is sufficient beauty for woman, do you?" I asked, for every line of Miss Barre’s cool coral colored linen dress and white hat bespoke a careful attention to the mysteries of true becomingness in dress, with beauty and good taste duly com mingled and these mysteries become iust plain everyday facts in the clever hands and bruin of the woman who knows how to dress. "1 am sure that you recognize the Importance of dress and manner in the field of womanly charm." “Yes,” said Miss Barre, with the pleasing attention that she always gives to your part of the conversation; "1 believe in dress and manner as ad juncts to beauty, and I have just four little pet theories for the first aids to beauty Here they are: First and most important, KEEP UP. Keep up and ahead of what you are doing of events and happenings; just cultivate a habit of feeing light and buoyant and not weighted down or impeded by life. "Next. BE PLEASANT* Friends are as easy to acquire as enemies, and a pleasant greeting to the people you meet won’t harm them or you. A Mental Picture. "Of course, I believe in dressing as well and as becomingly as your means will allow. And to do that you must cultivate your imagination. Do you know. 1 can always see myself walking out of the front door and down the street in a dress just about the time I am having my first fitting. I picture myself in clothes, and as 1 don’t like freak pictures. 1 don’t get freak clothes. I make sure that my hats iform a back ground for my face, although if 1 had a short neck I would be careful not to make it appear still shorter by wearing hats that would cut it off in the course of their down-droop in back. And I study the line of my throat. A neck is pretty generally becoming—except to the woman wdth an exceedingly long, narrow face. Square neck for her. and a round line that cuts off. the throat should be generally taboo. “It’s a science, isn’t it?” laughed Miss Barre. “Why. I believe taste in dress has as many branches and ramifications as the study of singing. But they are both *w’orth while, aren’t they?” 0 And we all agree, don’t we, little sisters? CHAPTER VII. P ERHAPS Mary Danforth did not acknowledge to herself why it was so hard for her to give her mind to her studies during the even ing on which she received Craig’s pansies. If she appreciated that the sender of the flowers was in her con st lousness more than was the book of 'civics lying open in the glow of her student’s lamp, she did not admit it even in her innermost thoughts. She tried to “concentrate,” but her wits wandered, and, time and again, she found, with a guilty start, that for some minutes she had been gazing abstractedly at nothing. It was late when at last she put out her light, urged to this course by her mother, who insisted that ahe was wearing herself out studying so hard, and that she would be “good for nothing” in the morning. When Mary awoke on the morrow she was forced to confess the ac curacy of the final part of her moth er's prediction, for she did feel "good for nothing." Her eyes smarted and her limbs ached as she busied herselt with her toilet. A vague feeling of (iisappointment possessed her, de pressing and, at the same time, irri tating her, and she went to breakfast with her nerves and temper on edge. She had diificulty in controlling her feelings when Mrs. Danforth, in her desire to promote table talk, inno cently introduced the subject of Craig —feeling that he would be an inter esting topic of conversation. Vexed at the Blush. "I declare,” announced the kind- hearted matron, amiably, “I have al most fallen In love myself with that tall Texan. He has such beautiful manners and is so considerate of el derly people. Don’t you think he <s delightful 7 ” As this remark was addressed to the table at large, Mary, vexed at the blush which she felt creeping to her forehead, busied herself with her grapef r uit and made no reply. "Don’t you like him, daughter?” persisted her mothtr. ‘I think that he’s a presentable man, mother, if that's what you mean," responded the girl tartly and with tightening lips. “You can hard ly expect me to say, as you just said, that 1 am ‘almost in love with him m\seif, can yofl?”' The words were sharp and the tone hargh. The speaker suddenly appre ciated that this was the second time within a few days that she had been imp; tient with her mother , As be fore, she regretted her show of tem per when she saw the wounded ex pression in ner mother’s eyes. She noted also that her father was looking at her in amazement. *‘I did not mean to speak like that, mother,’’ she said quickly and peni tently. She pushed her chair back from the table and, going around to the elderly woman, laid her own flushed cheek against the wrinkled one. "I had no business to be so cross, and I am very sorry. I am as nervous as a cat this morning. I’lease forgive me." Mrs. Danforth patted her daugh ter’s hand, her face all smiles in an instant. "That’s all right, my darling,” she soothed. "We all have our cranky spells. Now eat your break fast, for it is getting late. I shall be glad when this dreadful grind is over and you have graduated,” she added, with a sigh. "You are not like your dear self these days, and it is because you are overwrought and overtired.” Mary made no protest. She won dered secretly if the strain of work was entirely responsible for he*' vague sense of discontent and *mcer- tainty. Breakfast over, she hurried to her room to collect her books, and, as she returned to the hall, ready to leave the house, she came upon her father. He was leaning against the wall, his hand to his head. His face was pale and his brow contracted as if he were suffering. "Father!” oAlaimed the girl in alarm, "what is the matter?” "Nothing to worry about, pet,” he insisted. “I was just a little dizzy and headachy for a minute. I’m bet ter now. Don’t look so frightened!’ "Dad,” said Mary, anxiously, “you are not well. You’ve been overwork ing.” \ "Oh, V guess not," he replied with an attempt at raillery. "An old codger like me must expect such feel ings this warm weather, that’s all— but I find it hard to remember that I’in getting old.” "Won’t you see a doctor?” urged Mary. Mary Gets a Shock. "Pshaw!” he laughed. "I’m all right, 1 tell you! Don’t mention'this little turn to your mother, for she makes a mountain of a molehill when 1 don't feel up to the scratch.” On the way to school Mary thought of her father with some perturbation but the hurry and bustle of the aay’s work drove all other worries from her brain and she had forgotten the little episode by the time she boarded the subway train in the evening. She watched the express on which she rode draw away from a local train. As the lighted windows slid slowly backward she thought of how she had first seen Gordon Craig under circum stances like these. It was like a story book romance, and he looked not un like a book hero, she said to herself with a contemptuous smile at her own silliness. Her thoughts were still busy with him as she walked along toward her home. Wren she turned into her own street, several leather-lunged men, carrying bundles Y»f papers, wen- shouting "Extra” at the other end of the block in the hollow, reverberating tones of the New York disaster har binger. Still dreaming, she paid lit tle heed to them, but went up to hei apartment, her mind on the man she had known for such a little while Strange, she mused, that he should have impressed her so strongly. Her father was standing in the drawing room as she entered her home. A glance at his face brought her to a comprehension of the news vender./ cries as they were borne now to her ears through the open windows. "Terrible accide^' on the Bosting Express!" they were shouting. Blindly the girl stretched her hands to her father as he came toward her. "Dad,” she asked hoarsely, “was that ’’ She got no further, for her father put his arm quickly about her and drew her to him. "Yes, little girl,” he said, tremu lously. "the Boston Express—Craig's train—has been wrecked, and. God help us! most of the Pullman passen gers are dead!”