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, (CN , Visiting in Bar Harbor the left, is the guest of Mrs. Henr” Inman in Bar Ilarbor. Miss Broyles is a popular Atlanta girl. On the right is Mrs. William Armand, a charming-young matron. they stuck it out and made the best of it. And, I’m told, it tasted mighty good, although it was considerably damp. But the worst came the next day. The beautiful ‘‘spot” selected by the ladies—bless their hearts—had other inhabitants None other than thosi? pesky little torments known as “red bugs” or “chiggers." The party took home a plentiful supply and for the next week the mere mention of the word “spo^” made the men "cuss'” and the entire party tingle. From what I hear, the next time this party embarks on a picnic jaunt it will be understood in advance that the ladies will have nothing to do with the selection of the “spot.” It is a costume to be worn on a quiet evening at home, or for bachelor par ties. It was introduced by a well-known peer of England, and is described as a dark green watered silk, with re- vers of old gold, the coat being edged with olive green silk braid. The suit is loosely cut, with wide trousers, and is worn with a colored silk shirt, soft turn down silk collar and flow ing tie. Socks of silk and gorgeous Oriental slippers complete the pic ture. Did you get that? Oriental slippers and green silk coat. Now, my brave gentlemen, 1 know won’t accept, but here goes anyway; a box of good cigars to the first one of you or to any one of you who has the courage. girls wear beauty spots only for adornment. A COUPLE of weeks ago 1 offered a wager to the four men I con sidered the best dressed in At lanta—Bob Maddox, Gene Haynes, Jim Nunnally and Joe Gatins. At the time I dared any one of these four to appear on Peachtree in London's latest fashion for men. the gray top hat. None of them had the nerve to accept. I would propose another little wager with these four on the latest London craze. This is the rest suit. N EWPORT is raving over Mrs. William E. Carter, of Philadel phia. Mrs. Carter is called the most perfect figure among the prom inent society women of that resort. She Is a perfect blonde, and her fame as a type of beauty has spread over two continents. I met Mrs. Carter last winter at a ball in Philadelphia, and I can as sure you she is the most dazzling vision I was ever permitted to see. Every year the glory of her fair com plexion and of her light hair seems to be enhanced. Combined with this she is regarded as the most artisti cally dressed woman in Newport this season. I am told that last week Mrs. Car ter attended seven lunches, three dances and seven dinner parties, which, you will admit, is a rather strenuous program for anyone. In- S INCE the first appearance of the series of little stories of society life and things pertaining to the social world under the signature of Polly Peachtree I have been deluged with letters from far and near and with telephone calls innumerable in ( anxious inquiry as to my identity. From hundreds of people in Atlanta, and from Augusta, Savannah, Macon and as far off as New Orleans and Birmingham, the letters of inquiry have come, while speculation in At lanta society has been broad and in many instances extremely wide of the mark. A strange trait in people is this cu riosity to know the personality of anyone whose expressed opinions arouse interest. Those who like Pol ly’s chatter wish to know who she is, and those who do not like it express a livelier interest still. Now, I am afraid this curiosity must remain unsatisfied for a while, at least. Why, if you all knew who Polly was, the fun would be gone, wouldn’t it? Anyway, people might be more discreet in their conversa tion while I a.m around, and if Polly could hear nothing to chat about, what would become of her chatter? Not that I am going to pass on any word of scandal or of gossip which would harm anybody, nor shall I in dulge much in, quoting rumor. The object of these columns is sim ply to amuse in a way that hurts no body, just as two or three friends, gathered around a tea table on the porch of .the country club, would re count the little stories they had heard of friends or talk over the fads and follies of the world. I shall not seek this maid with a white satin gown that had seen its best days. The gift was received with enthusiastic appre ciation. “Thank you so much, ma’m; thi3 will be just the thing for me to wear to the Driving Club to-night?” “To the what?” "The Driving (5lub, m’am. where we goes every Thursday night to dawnce.” "What in the world are you talking about, Mary?” asked her mistress. And. Mary then explained that 5'he really meant “the Drivers’ Club,” but that “they often called it ‘The Driving Club,’ because it sound ed more classy.” A TLANTA girls, I notice, are re viving the beauty *pot. I have noticed a number of our smart young girls wearing them, and I must say some of them are very bewitch ing. A man told me the other night that when he met.a girl who was wear ing a beauty spot, he was utterly unable to take his eyes off it. The origin of the beauty spot is in teresting. The Duchess DeMontmor- rillon, suffering with a boil on her cheek, resorted 10 putting a bit of Our picnic made a lively stir. We reached the ground, And to our great surprise there were A T o ants arrntnd. Delightful were the oaks and pines Clear iraS the spring. No farmer threatened us with fines For trespassing. In peace a happy day was spent Upon the plain; And, to our deep astonishment, It didn't rain. S OUNDS fine and comfy, doesn’t it? But it doesn’t always work out that way. I heard of a picnic engineered last week by that gracious young matron, Mrs. Charles Hague Booth, and her genial husband. The picnic started splendidly. They motored out in Mr. Booth's big car to a lake somewhere the other side of Fj^j'ettevMle. The pienio party | disembarked and the task of finding a spot on which to spread the lunch- ! eon cloth began. The men of the party selected one • “spot” and proceeded to camp there. who sits beside me that a certain clever woman, who “writes for the magazines,” is really Polly Peachtree. I smile again when I hear that a well-known man of the social world, identified with newspaper circles in the years past, is responsible for Pol ly’s nonsense. And a greater joke still is the report that a womati who has demonstrated her special talent for writing poetry and “love stories” for twelve or fifteen years has changed her style and mind, in topsy-turvy fashion, to produce Polly Peachtree’s chatter. * * • T hat you may know to what de gree battled curiosity will lead, I will relate the adventure of a member of The Sunday American staff who is known to be personally ac quainted with my humble self. The adventure occurred at a hospitable summer home near Atlanta, presided over by a popular young married couple. It was while the temperature was 'wav up near the 100 mark and > s / sity from the fact that curiosity un satisfied and fed with a knowing smile and unrelenting eyes, soon becomes a power. All unconscious, the newspa per mam rushed to his doom. Some Inspired person said: ■‘Let’s n °t tet him have anything to drink until he tells us.” And would you believe it? Those erstwhile hospitable and kindly folks, those former friendly guests, sat and drank their iced beverage (whatever that Is) all through the evening, while the newspaper man, growing paler and stuck to his duty like a mar- deed this round of gayety has caused Mrs. Carter to retire for a few days. The strain of social endeavor is not altogether confined to the lady, for the public prints of last week carried a story to the effect that “Me Too,” Mrs. Carter's famous little Pekinese dog, has also found Newport life too strenuous, and is under the care of a doctor and nurse. All Newport is waiting to see the costume which Mrs. Carter wiU wear at the ball to be given by Mrs.-'JtuyH Continued on Page 4, Column , black mixture which she had been told held great curative power. In the morning she either forgot to wash her face or did not use enough care, so the tale goes, and appeared before the world with a face spotted. Pow dered and perfumed she received her callers and they found the accidental black spot charming, so much so that before night had come they dabbed their faces with the black ointment. , Of course, we all know that Atlanta Rbandon the feast and seek shelter or brave the rain and stay their hunger. The inner being won without a strug gle and the party—drenched to the skin in a moment—tore into the food. It was mighty uncomfortable, but S WOMAN who wears cnarmlng gowns and is possessed of a generous heart as well as an admirable colored maid presented Photo by Hirshburg and Phillips. P‘ oto by Lenney