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Peter’s Party I FLUNG down the morning paper with a groan. Looking out of the window, a scene of springtime met my eyes. And the sky was blue— April blue. I way blue, too, but It was another sort of blue; the sort you see when you read that everything has gone down with a slump, and that the rattling good thing ypu put every penny you could scrape together into a few months ago, expecting confi dently—on the word of your pet bro ker—a huge profit, has gone to ruin. Nice things for a man on a gay spring morning to look things in the face and read only one word wher ever he looks—ruin. My soliloquy was rudely interrupt ed by a ringing feminine voice, fol lowing hard on the arrested purr of a motor Peter! Peter!” “Here!" I shouted, flinging open the door “What’s wrong? Fire? Or— Good heavens—Sybil! What brings you here?" Sybil Manlsty laughed and flung back the long, floating gauze veil. From beneath that pretty motor bon net her sparkling blue eyes looked at me with gleeful amusement. “A nice welcome for a long-lost cousin!” she retorted, presenting to me a cheek of such fragrant pinkness that what could I do but kiss it? "The motor brought me; it also shed Wil liam on the road where I left him staring, like one bewitched, at the lake. We’ve come to stay, If you’ll have us, Peter—I know you will. We’re on our way to the Allinghams, but they can't have us till next week.” “You’re welcome,” I replied, laugh ing. “but I've very little to offer you in the way of food. I don’t keep a chef. When we don’t know what to have, we go out and kill a chicken and eat it. Mind you, it’s dull here." A Party. “If that’s all. I’ll soon change things We’ll give a party, Peter—or, rather, you shall." “A party!” I stared at her aghast. "Yes; William always says I can’t be five minutes in the country with out arranging instantly a party of some kind. Peter, you ought to mar ry!” "Marry? I? On what, pray?" “On whatever you’ve got. It’s enough for two, isn’t It?" “I don’t know. I’m not at all sure that it’s going to be enough for one even.” “Peter! ” 1 nodded. "True. I read the news only this morning Something's gone smash in which I put the little capital 1 had. But don’t look like that, Sybil. If 1 have to go out like a snuffed candle. I'll go cheerfully. And as to a party— why, I'll give one that the country- for It but Canada, with the small amount of capital a sale would bring In. And for the rest hard work far side shall talk about for many a dav, Sybil!” She laughed. I know’ she thought my first words were only a Joke. She bad no conception of what the words "ruin” or “poverty’’ meant. She did not know, nor was .she likely to know’ as long as her stolid, well-gilded Wil liam kept his head. His was a head not easily lost! He was an excellent fellow—quite excellent. But dull—utterly wanting in humor and ponderous both in per son and mind. But he adored Sybil, and she adored him. Of course, there was Leila; but what was I that 1 should aspire to Leila and her winsome charm; could I ask her to share a gaunt house and practically, ruin? Impossible! Be sides. there was another fellow In the field an odious, plausible. good- looking Saxon, with hunterH and a motor, and all the things I could never give her. And Leila’s people encouraged him. and were cold to me. Very Bold. Two days later Mr. Peter Hamhert requested the pleasure of his friends' company at a fancy dress dance. The humor of the situation struck me keenly, but nobody else. That a ruined man should Klve a fancy dress dance was a distinct anomaly; hut I mis-ht as well come to the end with a flourish of trumpets and fire works. When it was all over I saw nothing HUSBAND NAILED RUBBER ON GATES Wife so Weak and Nervous Could Not Stand Least Noise—How Cured. Munford. Ala.—“I was so weak ",i;J nervous while passing through the : Change of Life that j I could hardly live. : My husband had to ; nail rubber on all i the gates, for I a could not stand it |j to have a gate !! slam. | “I also had baek- \ ache and a full - 1 ness in my stoni* ach. 1 noticed that Lydia E Tink- . ham s Vegetable J Compound was ad vertised for such oases and I sent and got a bottle It did me so much k-hmI that I kept on taking it and found it to he all you claim I recommend your Compound to all women afflicted as I was ’—Mrs. F. P. Mullendore. Munford, Ala. • An Honest Dependable Medicine is Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Com iKmnd. A Root and Herb medicine orig -*.«ted nearly forty years ago by Lydia E Plnkham, of Lynn, Mass , for con trolling female ills. Its wonderful success in this line has made it the safest and most dependa ble medicine of the age for women and no woman suffering from female ills does herself justice who does not give it a trial. If you have the slightest doubt that Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vege table Compound will help you, write to Lydia E. Pinkham Medi cine Co. (confidential) Lynn, Mass., for advice. Your letter will be opened, read and answer ed by s woman, and held in strict confidence. from all the haunts dear to me—far from everything and everyone I cared a button about. Far from— Leila. I was far from her In any case. For she was rich and I was a pauper. The fellow with the hunters and a motor need have no scruples in try ing to win her. Humor had it that the thing was as good as done. But I couldn't- I wouldn’t believe it. However, 1 had to grin and bear It, for they would both come to the dance. I should have to play the part of the one who looks on Sybil was a marvel. The old house was transformed; the supper tallies were a miracle when on#* con sidered the slender resources of the house; and Sybil herself, dressed in a silvery tissue gown, representing a snow queen, was the loveliest thing In creation, I thought, unttf 1 caught sight of Leila pass in a cloud of rosy tulle veiled in gray Dawn. That Saxon fellow was there, in a sort of glittering armor. Anti yet it waa at me at Leila smiled with such softness, such sweetness, as her hand lingered in min© “I’m so glad, Peter’” she breathed. ”C»lad' What about?” I -tared at her. “Why, this, of course'’’ "This'' whs the dance—the pretty scene, with polished floor and ivy- j decked walls, and persons who looked as If they had stepped ont of a fairy tale, Not Dancing. "Oh, yes; it looks nice, doesn’t it? I h6pe you’ll have a Jolly evening, Leila. I feel rather like a bear that’s forgotten how to dance- -horribly rusty.” Leila looked at her program. “Oh, I forgot: Peter, let’s dance the first barn dance together. We al ways do, don’t we?" “We used to,” I said, writing my name on her program. “May I have two?” “Yes " "And supper?" Leila looked up at me Her soft hazel eyes were very bright; the color rose to her face. "Why, of course, Peter,” she said. She moved away on an arm of glit tering armor, but looked back as she 1 went, ana there was a wistful hap] ness In her eyes that puzzled me. Why had she said she was so glad? Glad for what? The dance didn’t seem a sufficient reason. It went with spirit; dances were rare enough in those parts, and Sybil made an admirable hostess. Even her stolid William—-dressed as a fisher man of the olden times came out of his shell and frolicked with the rest I banished with an effort my ovtu depression of spirits, the visions cf Canada and coming exile, the realiza tion of the ruin hanging over my head. For the place must go—the gaunt barrack of a house, so dear to me, that must find a purchaser m some rich American who wanted old place with rough shooting and Ashing and all the rest of it. It would sell readily enough, but I loathed the idea. If only Alone. “Are you going to cut out our dance, Peter? Or are you dreaming?” Leila was beside me. I offered my arm in silence. We danced once, twice, around the room. Then I drew her away into the corridor, where Sybil had contrived some wonderfully secluded nooks containing Just two seats, no more. For the moment we were alone. And there we sat—silent. I, plunged in moody thought—Leila, twisting her fan in restless fingers. Suddenly I felt I couldn’t bear It— the truth must come out. “When is It to be, Leila?” I asked, I roughly. “When Is what to be?” “Your marriage.” She grew quite white, but looked at me with smiling eyes. “He hasn’t asked me yet, Peter." I stared at her. “But when he does—I stammered. I “I know I have no right to ask you— but when he does ’’ “Who has a better right than you, [ Peter?” “Leila! Are you going to marry him? Tell me, for Heaven's sake! I sha’n’t be here much longer; the place must go. I’m off to Canada and ” I h r cry cut across my stumbling words. Canada, Peter! What do mean?" “What I say. I’ve ~nt to face ruin. I can battle with It better somewhere else." A Wrong Guess. "But, Peler, I thought—I Imagined everythin)? whs KolnK well. This par ty of yours—I thought It meant that lurk had turned for you at last, and I was so glad so glad!" "So that was It! My heart was suddenly like a singing bird.” “I’ve lost everything, Leila.” There was a momentary silenoo. Then—a soft hand stole into mine. "Not everything, Peter.” said a very soft voice, “because there still re mains—me. Am 1 nothing?” “You! You are everything; but you're going to marry that fellow in shining armor; everyone knows it, and " “Everyone knows nothing I am not going to marry him.” “But—your people?” I said, stupid ly. her hand still in mine. And. mind you. she made no effort to get it baca. “I marry to please myself—not my people. I marry the man I—love or no one! And, Peter, I always wanted to go to Canada.” 1 sat there siient—stricken to stor e —dumb. “Peter! It’s no longer leap-year. you know; but all the same ” She was in my arma in an instant. I held her fast. “Leila!” You don’t mean it—you can’t! 1 oughtn’t to let you marry a ruined man! Why, they’ll call me a fortune hunter; they’ll “They’ll say! Let them say!" she said, with starry eyes. “What need we care. Peter, for anyone? I hated my money before; I knew it was keep ing us apart. Now I’m glad, because it may make the way easier for you— for us both. Much makes more. And we’ll come back, Peter, some day, and begin again. You dear old stuuid. J thought you never would understand. I thought you were blind ” “1 was only afraid." “And yet I-had the courage to near ly ask you to marry me! Oh. Pe ter! But for your party who knows what might have happened? It was that that gave me courage. You see. I believed the barrier was gone. II has—no^t” It had^ Love had overthrown it as It overthrows all obstacles. you Beauty is health. Health does not exist in the haggard, leathery skinned woman. Fat is not pret- i/. Those who find it threaten ing them should avoid potatoes, food prepared in oils and sugar products. Magnetism, sweetness of disposition and willingness to work are all aids to beauty. Think less about what you have a right to expect from life, and make sure you are giving life all that it has a right to expect from you. Try to make others happy. That gives you a proper setting to your beauty. By LILIAN LAUFERTY. TOy would never dream of »et- j ting a diamond In paste, would you?” said everyone's favorite—Blanche Bing. And In the dee^ underlying philosophy of the magnetic comedienne’s remark lie3 the secret of the popularity and charm that place the Jewel of her beauty In a worthy setting. "A theatrical star surrounded by a group of poor players so that her per sonality may be exploited and may occupy the center of the stage and of the attention Is not giving her public what It wants. If she ha» real merit, It will bo enhanced by the presence of clever people about her—well. Miss Beauty Editor, can’t you apply that rule to beauty all through life?" Indeed, you can—for beauty that arrests the eye and has no further power to charm may exist In the per son of a slovenly, ignorant, unlovely creature, who has only the picture qualities of a perfect animal, while true beauty *iust appeal to mind and heart as well as to vision. True Beauty. "You w$>uId never dream of setting a diamond in paste," I quoted to the author of the remark. "Now, Miss Ring, exactly what is your ideal of beauty and your idea of the setting therefor^” "My idea of beauty it health." an swered Miss Ring with prompt cer tainty. “And health does not exist Ip the haggard, leathery-skinned wom an who has dieted herself into a state of near-decline. The healthy women Is at her normal weight, whether that be pleasing plumpness or sylphlike slimness and she has not the nerv ous. heavy-eyed look of the woman who lives on a cracker and an apple a day so she can persuade a figure that might be a healthy looking thir ty-eight to be a shadowy poster that Miss Blanche Ring. measures about thirty inches about its greatest girth. “Of course, fat is not pretty—and if a woman finds it threatening her she would do well to avoid potatoes, bread, rich gravies and food prepared In oils and sugar Products. But after a woman reaches 3ft the red blood corpuscles go on a long holiday anfi she had better not hasten their demise by furiously banting herself to n consumptive shadow—or ar strain through overexercise. No, let her live out of doors all she can—swimming, tennis and gardening are the most de lightful summer exercisqs, and a sim ple. sane diet with this little secret to help It along will do wonders to bring on attractive slenderness with out painful swraniness. A Lasting Debt. “Here Is the secret: One day « f every week live on this menu for each of the three meals; For breakfast, for luncheon and for dinner eat a baked potato seasoned with a bit of butte.*, some skimmed milk and ’pepper and salt to taste ' Then you will have the proper compound of substance and shadow!” “And now for the setting of this properly slender figure,” I queried. “Well,” said the beautiful friend of everyone who has ever seen her. "the world does not owe me a living, but I owe the world a great deal in return for all it has done for me. So 1 try to give all 1 can in affection, in interest and in earnest effort to the world. I think it would be a good plan for girls to think less about what they have a right to expect from life, and to make sure that they are giving life all it has a right to ex pect from them; a happy, amiable expression and a sunshiny, nature to account for it are bound to result from that attitude. “But 1 started to tell you what I think forms the most beautiful set ting for beauty—which is health, magnetism, sweetness of disposition and a joyous willingness to work. The last two one o$jp cultivate, but magnetism, charm, the power that breaks down walls of indifference and of possible misunderstanding between human and human—that is the gift women long most to possess-*-and is the hardest thing in all the world to analyze. The Final Jewel. “The nearest I can come to ex plaining my idea of magnetism is to suggest that women give all they can to life in love, in effort and in the desire to make others happy. Per haps in this way they can add the final jewel to the setting about their beauty—at least, so it seems to me. “Seems, madam. Nay, ’tie—not ’seems’.” For the woman whose power reaches over footlights and luncheon tables alike is the spirit of beauty and magnetic charm incar nate—-so her modest little suggestions for magnetism may surely point, the way to all beauty seekers." Up-to-Date Jokes The last train had crawled through tho station laboriously. In the waiting room the guard told the tale to a belated passenger. 'It was last year." he said, “a man wanted to commit suicide. He got on to the lines, put his head on the rails, and waited for the train.” ’’Well?” queried the passenger breathlessly. “Oh!" said the guard, "he died all right—of starvation.” , “Oh. thank you!” exclaimed an eid- erly lady to a laborer who surren dered his seat In a crowded car. “That’s crl right, mum/' was the: rejoinder. Ah the lady sat down the chivalrous | laborer added; "Wot I ses is. a man never ort to let a woman stand. Some men never gets up unless she's pretty, but you see, mum. it don’t make no difference to me.” By ANNA KATHARINE GREEN. (Copyright, 1913, by i Anna Katharine Greer;.) TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT. "I sent you one as soon as my daugh ter came back. Her explanations were entirely satisfactory, and there is no reason why any of us should think of the matter again. Yet you have talked in the very quarter where 1 desired you to be silent, and the consequence is that my daughter's happiness is threatened and her character impeached. It is an irreparable injury which I shall never forgive." And, leaving Mr. Gryce to di gest these pleasing words, she turned again to Dr. Cameron. “Sir,’’ said she, “I do not know what excuse you can have for asserting that you have seen my daughter within an hour. I only know that the fact is im possible, for Genevieve has not been out of the house since her return at the time I mentioned, as* a dozen witnesses at least can prove to you. As to the duplicity of which you complain, it amounts simply to this, that she felt her health giving way under the constant strain of our numerous preparations, and in a sudden freak, which she now deplores as sincerely as myse’f. started off for Montclair without telling any one of her intention, thinking that the complete rest thus obtained 'would ben efit her. as it has; for never has she looked more blooming or more fitted to be your w’ife than at this very momyit when you hesitate to accept her." For answer, the doctor walked up to the detective. "Could we have been mistaken?” he asked. “Was it Indeed ano'her woman?” "I will tell you in two minutes,” was the hri#y answer; And, quitting them with small ceremony, Mr. Gryce passed out of the room. The doctor made no effort to apolo gize or answer Mrs. Gretorex till he came back. His whole future destiny was trembling in the balance and it was as much as he could do to retain his composure. Happily the time of wait ing was short. Mr. Gryce rejoined them almost immediately, and bowing low to the lady of the house, said in Dr. Cam eron’s ear, “Another case of mistaken identity. Mrs. Gretorex is correct in all her assertions. You have made a fool of me and I show my chagrin by simply departing.” The doctor attempted no reply. He was beside himself with joy. What? The whole dreadful business of the last four hours a farce? His marriage as sured. his bride untainted, no Moles- worth in her past, no possible Jealousy n their future. He almost dropped on is knees to Mrs. Gretorex in his con trition; attempted explanations and then paused, thinking them too inadequate; laughed, asked questions about his bride's beauty, and betrayed impatience to see her; in short, acted like any man suddenly transported from unhap piness to rapture. The mother, understanding him bet ter than he thought perhaps, only smiled, and pointing to his black neck tie, asked if he had a white one in his pocket. Changed to Joy. His face grew suddenly long and he flushed with intense mortification. “I have not come quite prepared for grand a ceremony,” he stammered. If the guests will wait a little longer while I send for my coat and tie—” “They must,” declared Mrs. Gretorex, calling a servant at once and giving him one or two orders. "It will not take more than another half hour, and the band can keep them patient till then." "Tell them I was detained by an acci dent on the elevated road. As I was," he merrily added. “Keep them in good nature and give me a glimpse of my bride.” “You impatient lover!” was all the re lieved mother could say; but her look was a promise, and In a few minutes a trim and quiet girl came tripping to the door, and, smiling coquettishly, showed him a room at the other end of the hall, saying; "Miss Gretorex is all dressed, sir, and will speak to you for a minute if you desire It.” He did not linger an instant. Some thing—was it love, or only that old pride of his restored to its full life, burned In his breast, and made his short walk down the hall a remembrance of delight to him? Her door, Just ajar, was like a beacon of hope, and when he saw It open wider and caught the one short glimpsb she allowed him of her tall and elegant figure in its shimmering robes and misty veil, he felt his pulse beat as never before, and scarcely needed the charming smile she gave him to complete a happiness which at that moment was supreme. “I have kept you waiting,” she mur mured; and he found no answer for look ing at her eyes, that, seen thus through her veil, possessed a oeauty and a glow which made her absolutely beautiful. "I am all ready now,” she cried, “and mamma says that you are not. Naughty man, to go careering downtown to look after some patient or other when you should have been thinking only of me.” He laughed, feeling himself to be an other being, and she another being from the man and woman of a week ago. Then he looked at her again, and ut tered some tender compliment which made her blush deliciously', and then in answer to a wave of her hand, that seemed to say: “Enough!" was about to withdraw, when he saw her eyes suddenly dilate and a look of such shock and fear cross her face that he Involuntarily turned and glanced down the hall behind him for the cause. There was nothing there, absolutely* nothing; only the figure of a hair dresser or some such woman who, in cloak and veil, stood with her little bag on her arm. awaiting to enter, and. astonished at the ease with which his mind lent itself to the most startling conjectures, e turned back to reassure himself by What Has Gone Before. It is the wedding day of Dr. Wal ter Cameron He la to be married ai 8 o'clock that evening to Gene vieve Gretorex. a beautiful society girl At 4 o'clock Dr. Cameron Is ' called upon In his office by Kben- ezer Gryce, a member of the Scot land Yard detective force. He as tounds Dr. Cameron bv telling him that Miss Gretorex has been missing for several days. Gryce says that the girl's mother requested his serv ices In the hunt for her daughter, and showed him a note In which Miss Gretorex declared she would be back In time for die ceremony. Gryce as tounds Dr. Cameron by declaring he tracked Miss Gretorex to an obscure I.ondon hotel, where he found her registered under the name of Mildred Farley. They drive to the hotel and peer through curtains into Room No. 153. where they see Miss Gretorex kneeling before a fire weeping and burning up some letters. They go downstairs greatly mystified. Gryce makes some inquiries and learns that three hours before the girl was vis ited by a man, who, when he left the hotel, notified the management that he would return at 9 o'clock with a clergyman who was going to marry them. Dr. Cameron excitedly de mands that Gryce tell him the name of this man The detective hands him a card Inscribed with this name— “Dr. Julius Molesworth." Now go on with the story. another look at his bride, when the door hich had been Swung open between hem softly closed and he found himself hut out from her presence with a new memory and a new fear to make liscord of the notes of the wedding :arch he was soon to near. A Startling Interruption. T HE Gretorex mansion was eminent ly adapted for a large gathering. Built since the introduction of the modern styles, it had intricacies and surprises innumerable; but it had also many and various rooms of spacious proportions opening into hallways so wide and upon staircases So ample that had the number of guests reached the full thousand that had been invited there would have been sufficient ac commodation for all. So numerous in deed were the rooms on the first f!6or and so admirably were they disposed, it had not been found necessary to ask the guests to ascend the stairs at all. Thus it was that Dr. Cameron had met his friends on the landings, but none on the floor above, and thus ft was that upon his return to the room which had been allotted to him he could pace its length for twenty minutes without an inter ruption. And a friend’s face, a jovial word would have been so welcome! For he did not want to think, and was im patient at the solitude which forced him to do so. When the die had been cast, when our future is decided upon, we wish to reach the culmination without delay, and Dr. Cameron, weary with many and varied emotions, only longed for the moment when amid music and bustle, the flash of lights and the murmur of voices, he should lead his young bride into the presence that would irrevocably seal their fate. For in these long and heavy minutes of waiting he had something besides his thoughts to contend with, he had impressions, a consciousness al most amounting to an intuition, that something strange, something dark, something entirely out of harmony with this scene of light and Joy was taking place near him—In his sight if he could but see, in his hearing if he could but hear; at all events near him, awesomely near, as near as that closed door to ward which he cast hurried and shrink ing glances every time a turn in his walk brought him within view of it. Of Common Sense. That he had no reason, or at the most the slightest reason for this sensation did not make It any less vivid or power ful. Right or wrong it had got a strong hold upon him and swayed him so com pletely that if the door I have spoken or had opened at one of the moments his eye was upon it and revealed a grisly skeleton standing on its threshold he would not have felt the shock as much as he did the ringing burst of melody that now and then soared up from the violins below. Yet in his heart he knew that he was but the fool of his imagi nation and that nothing more serious than the rearranging of a lock of hair or the buttoning on of a refractory pair of gloves by the commonplace hand of the woman he had seen enter there* would One of the Greatest Mystery Stories Ever Written be going on in this room his fancy peo pled with .tapes of fear and despair. For he was a man of common sense and knew the fashionable world well and was moreover quite aware as a physi cian how far a man’s imagination can carry him when his nerves have been unstrung by a series of such potent sen sations as had visited him in the last four hours. Let that door once open and the bride step forth and all would be hope and cheer again He knew it even while he was shuddering over the conviction that K had opened, and that a hand had been thrust out in a gesture of silent appeal and as quickly again withdrawn. The coming of the servant with the articles necessary to complete his toilet was like cold water dashed upon a man heated with fever. It righted him Im mediately. As he tied his necktie and fastened his gloves he felt himself to be more a dreamer of nightmares, but Dr. Cameron, known throughout all the city for his practical common sense and sound Judgment. He even laughed in his old, easy fashion as he peered down the hall and saw the servant who had waited upon him walk up and knock with the utmost assurance on the door he had been so long and fearfully watch ing. Nor did he feel himself to have been any the less a fool when in a mo ment later he beheld It open and caught a glimpse of his bride’s white veil and sweeping train as she gave her answer to the man and then waited with the door half shut for the summons to de scend. As he had promised himself it would be, an was cheer and hope again; nor in the bustle of preparation that presently followed did he become con scious of a thought out of harmony with the scene till, suddenly, as he was half way down the stairs, he felt his bride lean a little heavily on his arm, and, turning to look at her, perceived not a woman, not an automaton even, but a specter, whose glassy eyes, fixed upon vacancy, ffoae the blood to his veins. What Did It Mean? What did ft mean? Whs she mad or was she He did not stop to finish his thought; he alutched her by the arm and*gendy but firmly spoke her name. A shiver seemed to go through her, then she turned her head and slowly, painfully, under his gas© her lips took on the semblance of a smile so forced, so meaningless, that he stopped her where she was and, pointing lo the surging sea of faces below, exclaimed: “Thoy are waiting for us; the min ister has his book open, and your pa rents are already standing on each side of him; but If you do not wish to marry me. if there is any impediment in the way, or if you feel I can not be to you the husband you desire, say so. and we will turn back. No moment Is too late before the minister has uttered the final words.” But her eyes, which bed or©nod fear fully as he began to speak, dosed soft ly as he finished, and murmuring oql.lly, “Let us proceed,” she stepped down an other stair. He followed her and spoke again. “I can not go on, Genevieve,” he per sisted, “till you assure me of one thing. Ts your heart mine? Stands there no other man between us whose memory makes this moment frightful to you? If there i» “.There is not," oatne from her lips, now showing less pallid under this ques tioning. "I am 111, fearfully Ill; that Is all.” He looked at her. He had known sick ness which nad changed a person’s whole aspect in less time than had passed since he saw her blooming and brilliant a half hour before. And suoh might have attacked her, ho couhi not tell. “Are you too 111 to go on?” he asked. “No." “You can bear the effort and excite ment?” To Be Continued Monday, BALTIMORE, MD. $20.85 Round Trip $20.85 Tickets on sale August 1, 2 and 3. Return limit Au gust 15. Through electric lighted steel sleeping cars. Dining cars on most con venient schedules. SOUTHERN RAILWAY. CHICHESTER S PILLS . TnE DIAMOND BRAND. a flflaTl&orou#;©l<mbeim TJLANTIC CITY, N. J. The Leading Resort House of the World Particularly Attractive During July, August, September and October Atlantic’s Great Summer Season Capacity 1100. Two Blocks of unobatm- ted oceau front facing South and overlooking the famous Board walk; 400 private bathe. each with aea and fresh water. White service tn both American and a la Carte Dining Booms. Exqnlslte mnslc. Golf. Rolling Chairs. The atres. Piers. Hiding. Motoring, etc. The finest bathing bench on the Atlantic Coast Owner-hlc Management JOBLAH WHITE A SONS COMPANY. tor so yesrs known u Best. Safest. Alwey, Rouble SOUD BY DRUGGISTS EVERYMFR' Historic College For Women Wesleyan MACON, GEORGIA Delightful climate. Thorough and extensive course of study. Music, Art and Oratory of the highest order. Illustrious body of alum nae. choice student body, ideal home life, stu dent government, excellent faculty, splendid boarding department and good athletics. The oldest and one of the choicest great colleges for women in the world. Address, Dept. M. C. R. JENKINS, Macon Georgia