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Beauty Secrets
Stella Barre Fells of the Value of Voice
By WILLIAM F KIRK.
M ISTER and Missus Riley was up
lo our house last nite, and thay
had thare llttel 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 w\id have took him out in the
yard & handed him n few hot wallops,
* beesidee, I ft It kind of sorry for
him beekaus his I’a fL Mu kind of
spoiled him. All that his Mb sed to
him wen he spoak out of his turn was
Now. Tommie, thai isent nice.
I doant think we will move back to
the city till skool beegins sggenn. sed
Pa to the Rileys. We like it out here
in the country & beesldes. I want Bob
bie to stay here as long as possibel. A
boy is always better oft 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 hi'sbitnd doesn’t think so, sed Ma.
You see he was born K brought up
in a small town, <fe he says that a boy
bom & brought up in a small town has
rr.ote ail around training He can learn
to swim & hunt & fish & row a boat
& hitch up a horse & a lot of other
things that maiks a man out of him
wen he «r ws up.
But a boy in the city can get such
perfect . nners. sed Missus Riley
Tommie s learned all he knows about
manner? » associating with nice little
boys in I’ e city that lorn thare man
ners from thare private teechers. the
little dcr You arc always careful
about y tire manners, aint you. Tommie,
sed Missos Riley
I thud worry about manners, sed Tom
mie What do I care about manners
People n Hoboken have all the man
ners. sed Tommie.
Now. Tommie, that isent nice, sed
Missus Riley See what a quiet little
chap Bobb e Is
That is beekaus he Is a bonehead A
can’t think of anything to say, sed Tom
mie Riley. He beelongs rite up here in
ihe minor league whare he it. that kid.
I got prltty mad but I knew entiff to
keep still. My Ma always told me not
to start a quarl in the presens of older
peepul.
I wudde*M *• 'n tbt 8 jay town any
longer than I cud help, sed i ■ »’
kid. The peepjl here doant know they
are alive
You know a whole lot for a yung
man, don't you. sed Pa You will grow
up to he a regular city feller all rite,
one of them clerks that rides to
work & back home In the trolley & talks
a ride on Sunday for a outing & then
goes around telling w'hat a wise fish
he is.
Tommie will never be that kind of a
braggart, sed Missus Riley, looking at
Pa kind of hard. My littel son knows
too much to be a braggart, doant you.
Tommie?
Tell it to Sweeney, sed Tommie to his
mother, Cheese on all that talk about
me. I .ay off on me and talk about sum-
body that doesn’t know anything
Now. Tom nr e. that isent nice, sed his
n othe-.
I shod fret and take • s weat. sed 11
Riley kid. 1 ahud worry and git gray.
he sed
Pa Talks.
Tommie, sed Pa. as long as yure pa
rents will not tell you the truth I am
going to. You think you are a vary
smart yung man bekaus sumbody laugh,
you bow to say. “I shud worry " You
can say that & you can sing “Snooky
Oakums' & 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 bubies than you will
ewer kmw wen you grow up. Ydu
ought to be spanked. Tommie. & sent to
bed to think It oaver
Then Tommie looked at Pa kind of
fresh A- sed Say, this is a queer kind
of a country.
I guess if he had stayed long l wild
have had to soak Tommie, but his Pa
A Ma got kind of mad wen they seen
we dident like thare son. so thay tool
him hoain
Where Riches Count.
The late Mr. Bradley Martin, who
was himself a polished wit, used to
recall with 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
"lie's too eligible to be considered
old."
Cult
ure.
Miss Stella Barre.
J HEN 1 began making vocal
ulture a serious study a
tew 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 myself
ed
1 had
a
voice to train. \Ve
elitD
k'e. thu
ugh
— we worked bard
to
if
and i
low
we have a few ft
jl-
s, h
iivon’i
we
you
have
ii.-ai
rd Stella Barre’s t
op
and
a IV
W (l
ithers below it hi;
ch
• p r
enders
at
the performances
of
Ab«
>a rd”
in
New York you w
ill
! that she
has
triumphantly prov
ed
xisb
enoe o
f he
r voice. And a voi
ce
i W (■
• have
bee
n told, "an exeelle
nt
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thing in woman." be It low anti sweet,
lor 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 ure an unfortunate
1 tradition as the possessions of the
American woman.
"No amount of study is too hard."
aid the charming singer, "if it gives
‘ou at last the goal of your dreams,
tut you have to work with your brain
.s well as your body. And the thing
i would warp girls most earnestly
a Inst is overfatigue. It is so eas>
o think. 'Oh. I will Just keep at this
bit longer.’ and to use up so much
t ergy and strength that you infringe
n your reserve store Now 1 really
ractice all afternoon long—but only
>out fifteen minutes at a time. 1 w r ork
bit, and then I go off to something
jite different, and then back to work,
.i this way. 1 probably put in three
r four hours’ work with less fatigue
an two hours of steady application
rd overstrain would give
"You read so many romances of how
e fair telephone girl wins a million-
ire husband by saying Hello!’ very
weetly to his listening ear. There is
■•nmething in every tale—fairy or other
wise—you hear, and w’hether a girl has
a singing voice or not. a few singing
lessons will vastly Improve her speak-
ng voice—and perhaps help to discover
another prima donna.
A Suggestion.
"For the girl who can not afford sing
ing lessons. I would suggest deep
breathing at an open window’ morning
I and night, or whenever she has a
hance to try it during the day Then
I the lungs and hold the* breath hack
•f the voice while speaking a few words,
gradually Increasing tha nuniiMar uxjxia
you have brenth control and all the
while keeping the voice as deep, clear
and low as possible.”
"But you don’t think that voice alone
is sufficient beauty for woman, do you?”
1 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
ust pain everyday facts in the clever
hands and brain of the woman who
knows how to dress. ‘‘1 am sure that
you recognize the importance of dress
ami manner in the field of womanly
charm "
I "Yes." said Miss Barre. with the
j pleasing attention that she always gives
I to your part of the conversation; "I
, believe in dress and manner as ad-
! utnets to beauty, and I have just four
| little pet theories for the first aids to
| beauty. Hero 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 feeling 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. I can always see myself walking
out of the front door and down the
street In a dress just about the time I
am having iny first fitting I picture
myself in clothes, and as I don't like
freak pictures. 1 don’t get freak clothes.
1 make sure that my hats form a back-
i ground for my face, although if I had
a short neck I would be careful not to
make It appear still shorter by wearing
hats that w’ould cut it off in the course
of their down-droop in back. And I
study the line of my throat. A neck
is pretty geneially becoming—except to
the woman with an exceedingly long,
narrow face. Square neck for her. and
a round line that cuts off the throat
-hould be generally taboo.
"It's a science, isn't it?" laughed Miss
Barre "Why. 1 believe taste in dress
lias as many branches and ramifications
as the study of singing. But they are
both worth while, aren't they?"
And we ail agree, don't we, little
One Woman's
Story
By Virginia T. Van de Water.
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 flowerfi was *n her con
sciousness more than was tlie 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 she 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 herself
with her toilet. A vague feeling ot
disappointment 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 difficulty in controlling her
feelings when Mrs. Danforth, in her
desire to promote table talk, Inno
cently Introduced the subject of t'raig
—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
mariners and is so considerate of el
derly people. Don't you think he .s
delightful 9 ”
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 aer
grapefruit and made no reply.
“Don’t you like him, daughter?”
persisted her mother.
"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
nuself, can you?"
The wands were sharp and the tone
ha***i'.. The speaker suddenly appre
ciated that this was the second time
within a fev days that she had been
impt tient with her mother As be
fore. ?he regretted her show’ of tem
per when she saw the wounded ex-
rressior. in her mother’s eves. She
noted also that her father was looking
at her in amazement.
"1 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
Hushed cheek against the wrinkled
one. "I had no business to be so
cross, and l am very sorry. I am
as nervous as a cat this morning.
Please 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
a.bled, with a sigh. v‘‘You are not
!ffcr your dear self these clays, 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 her
vague sense of discontent and uncer
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, lie was leaning against the
wall, his hand to his head. His face
was pale and his brow contracted as
if he were suffering.
“Father!” exclaimed 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, I 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’m 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
I 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 day's
work drove all other worries from her
brain und 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 tlie 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 stiD busy with
him as she walked along toward her
home. V pen she turned into her own
street, several leather-lunged men.
carrying bundles of papers, were
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 i
have impressed her so strongly. Her i
father was standing in the drawing j
room as she entered her home. A |
glance at his face brought her to a I
comprehension of the news vender-’
cries as they were borne now to her I
ears through the open windows.
"Terrible acclde^* on the Bosting ;
Express!" they were shouting.
Blindly the girl stretched her hands i
to her father as he came toward her.
"Dad." she asked hoarsely, "whs i
that ’’
She got no further, for her father
put his arm quickly about her and ;
drew hei to him.
"Yes, little girl." he said, tremu- '
lously. “the Boston Express—<’ra : s ,<
train—has be^n wrecked, and. GoJ
help us! most of the Pullman passen
gers are dead!”
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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. "I
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.
”1 guess he’s harmless.”
Rusty Immediately began gathering
up the pieces.
“I’ll fix dis 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!”
"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 w’orklng in
this room. It's a cinch that the treas
ure is here and it’s a bigger cinch he’ll
come back to get it when w’e are
gone."
"You ain’t gonna 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 /or one
of us in this armor. You watch, and
when he starts to work—then yell your
bead 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'Jng ’roun’ in dis boogy house in de
dark.”
"What makes you think that?” mum-
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you, my American!’ ”
A steel thigh-piece slipped through
Jarvis’ fingers and clattered to the floor.
"An’," concluded Rusty, with invinci
ble logic, ‘Tse de only American ’roun*
heah ’cep’ you, Marse Warren.”
"God bless you, Rusty!” said his mas
ter, fervently, to himself. But aloud ha
said, holding up the heavy casque:
“Here—put your head In this Stet
son. Gloves -here now! How do yott
feel?”
Jarvis surveyed him with a grin.
San^ho 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 eatchln’ cold,"
pleaded the knight, In the hope of par
don. •
“Nonsense! Now. Rusty, keep your
ears and eyes open—don’t move a mus
cle. 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’ dis 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
laint 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.
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.
‘' Get into this hardware
bled Jarvis, tolling 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 Princess
a-lookin’ up at de moon, jes’ like a pic-
ter. Jes’ a-lookin’ at de moon, an’
she says—an’ she says—’’
"W'hat 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 9inging 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
as fast as you can.”
for sentimental gossip, and Rusty went
on:
"And den—and den—she go right on \
an' she says—she says, ‘Gawd be with 1
A month in Colorado will make your children
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a
/