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INI, <8 Confessions of a Medium & S c (Hypnotizing the Hypnotist.) Being an Expose of Frauds Practiced by Self-Styled Spiritualists, Clairvoyants, Etc. By BEATRICE FAIRFAX. NOT THESE DAYS. Dear MIm Fairfax: I am 26 years old and have just received a proposal of marriage from a man one year my senior. Do you think 26 Is too old to Ret married—in fact. I will be 27 be fore we are married? Do you think a woman of 26 should mar ry a man only one year her s**n* lor? What I’m afraid of is that we might outgrow one another. A man at 50 Is young; a woman at SO Is middle-aged. I love this man very much, but after a few years I wouldn’t like to be laid aside for fairer and younger fac es. R. F. I am confident you are worrying yourself needlessly. You will not oe middle-aged at 30 unless you continue to think you are old and make your- | •elf so. Get married and don’t let a gray hair to-morrow spoil the happiness of to-day. To me, it seems that your ages are ideal. DON'T GIVE HER UP. Dear Miss Fairfax: I am in love with a girl and love her with all my heart, but there i« one thing I have against her. and It Is that she swears oc casionally. I have asked her to stop this, but she won’t. Now, don’t you think If she loved me, she would do it? What is your opinion of a girl who swears? WILLIE. It is a bad habit, hut one which, I am sure, you can help her to break. You might And a su^eatlon In you* method of reform in "The Taming »f the ■Shrew/* “IT TAKE8 TWO/ ETC. Dear Miss Fairfax: I have been calling on a young lady for the last few months, but owing to her stubborn disposition we had frequent quarrels. Would you advise me to discontinue call ing on her? PERPLEXED. Certainly. Fot I do not like the way in which you Rpeak of her, taking to yourself no measure of the blame for your disputes. If you married, and continued to quarrel. I am sure ■he would get the worst of it. By MRS. FRANK LEARNED. Author of “The Etiquette of New York To-d»y.” THE YOUNG LADY NOW AROSE AT MY BIDDING. AND I EXCITEDLY THREW MY HANDS BEFORE HER EYES. RUBBED MY THUMB ON HER TEMPLES, SPOKE QUICKLY AND FORCIBLY AT HER, LOOKING FEARFULLY WAY DOWN DEEP IN HER EYES. "SLEEP,” I SAID, "SLEEP. YOU FEEL YOUR EYES GET TING HEAVIER AND HEAVIER. YOUR HEAD NODS. YOU ARE SO VERY DROWSY. I WILL SUPPORT YOU TO THIS CHAIR. REST NOW. SLEEPY AND SLEEPIER—YOU ARE SO VERY, VERY SLEEPY. YOU ARE ASLEEP!” HER HEAD DROPPED BACK AND SHE BREATHED LIKE ONE IN A DEEP SLUMBER. By Charles D. Isaacson. (Copyright, /.'<IS, International New* Scrvirc.) w ▼ E will call the man Milton .Tone*. ' You know him well by a far E ARLY In life It is well to realize that the spirit of restlessness must be restated as an enemy to a normal condition of mind or body. Many people think that to | achieve results they must hurry, make a stir. Good work and hurry do not go together. Clear thought and flur ry can not dwell In the mind at the same time The person who succeeds in life has steadiness of mind, self- discipline and quiet thinking. The mind that is not flurried by events nr activities balances the person who achieves good results. The mind that la clouded by flurry can not face op portunities or solve problems. Some persona think that they Im press others with their importance bv talking about being terribly busy and telling of the rush in which they live There Is no time for any pleasant, friendly Interchange of thought. They are “going on” somewhere and have Hot a moment to stop. One feels, when talking with them, as though one were whirling along in a motor or on an express train. To live in a state of unrest and feverish excitement is not conducive to happiness. It is better to try to do a few little things which are worth while than many of the thing* which require a continual drive and are a waste of energy or time—and certain ly a waste of peace of mind. There are numberless little task* of everyday life which need to be done. A good way to cure restlessness Is to do them, and to do them as well as w> can. It is a very pleasant thought that there is generally somethingth.it each one of us can do, some very lit tle thing perhaps, soma small, lowly task or act, but which no one els can do; or there is someone to whom no one can be quite as useful a* we mav be. Too often we neglect those little things which are plainly befon us. almost asking to be done A girl w’ho is on the watch for the little duties at home and does them cheerfully and gladly will And that they help to make happiness. It may not seem a groat thing to go on an errand for a mother, or to spend an hour in mending, or In ar ranging a room, or putting a desk In order, or making a delicious dessert to please a father; but perhaps these are m f tVu, tiii H a i I v thins - * i*. feme of the little daily things de manding to be done. Any form of work is worth doing, and if it Is done in the right spirit, it is sure to bright en our own lives and the lives of oth- differant name, w'hioh has often appeared on the billboards. College men have listened to his scientific lectures. He has been the friend of noted psy chologists and mind experts. He has written books and conducted courses In hypnotism and helped medical men in peculiar, obstinate cases. He has often gone after "bad” boys for church pur poses. His big, masterful eyes have stared out In black, silhouetted pictures In many a magailne advertInement, but there his name did not appear. 1 am telling you all this about him because 1 want you to realise the impor tant position he occupies In scientific circles. Then when 1 show you what I did to him you will understand why I beg you to "steer clear.” There is a crew who are mulcting hundreds of ro mantic, ambitious people of their earn ings, making them believe they are get ting a course In hypnotism. Mr. Jones once asked ine to be his ■'subject.” A subject is a person per fectly willing to be made ridiculous be fore an audience, for their amusement and the hypnotist’s fame and profit. For the sake of experiment 1 consented to his proposal. "Very fine,” said Mr. Jones, "only there are several things I must tell you beforehand, In strict confidence.” "Hut 1 thought you were going to hypnotise me," I began. A Confession. look my little "Joke.” He explained— to his own satisfaction—that the sudden shock had aroused the subject from his hypnotic trance, he being still unable to realize tHal I didn't believe they had ever been mesmerized. Nevertheless, some months later Mr. Jones received an Invitation to attend a private experiment arranged for my initial debut as a full-fledged hyp notist. I myself personally wrote Mr. Jones, saying that 1 had at last become fully convinced of the truth of his per formances and ha ( j succeeded In par tially accomplishing some of his lesser wonders. Mr. Robley was the guest of honor. He was introduced as the great and renowned scientist of two hemispheres, to which he replied with a short speech. In which he told us how proud he was to he with such a bright and intelli gent audience, etc., etc. I bowed. After a short preliminary talk I announced that I would be as sisted In the first test by a young lady. Would she kindly *tep up? Hhe came, very pretty and blushing. Would the pianist kindly strike a chord, for her to sing by? He did, but her response was terrible. Off key, rasping, un- musical—it sounded like a fog horn in distress. Would the pianist please try again? Hut this time everything was worse and the people began to shift In their seats. The young lady was motioned to a place, where she sat down. Mr. Haverman has a few words to ■say regarding my assistant,” I an nounced, and a gentleman arose to tell how utterly voiceless the lady was, and Mr Remington corroborated what he said, and Miss Ijembler vouched for every word that Mr. R. bad spoken—al though the audience as a whole did not need much evidence along that line. The young lady now arose at my bid ding. and I excitedly threw my hands before her eyes, rubbed my thumbs on her temples, spoke quickly and forcibly at her, looking fearfully way down deep In her eyes. How to Kill Time Husband or Children? By DOROTHY DJX W ITH her small noss pressed against the screen door, the small neighbor looked wist, fully Into the grown-up neighbor's kitchen. "Come out and play with me." she coaxed. "There Isn’t a soul of a per son to play with me at my house. My daddy's gone.to town and my mother's gone to town and my grandmother's sewing me a drees and Hilda's mak ing bread. Can’t you come out and play?” "I'm afraid I can’t Just now,” re sponded the grown-up neighbor. "I'm busy myself. But you can come In and talk to me while I work.” The small neighbor opened the door and skipped In with alacrity. "Why aren't you at school?" In quired the grown-up neighbor as the door slammed behind her visitor. The small neighbor gave an embar rassed wriggle. "Well," she said, “this morning when I first got up—I mean when I first didn’t get up, you know— I didn't feel very well. My head ached something fierce. So my moth er she said If I kept on not feeling well I didn’t need to go to school. I stayed in bed till she went to town and then I didn’t go to school," "I’m glad you’re feeling better." said the grown-up neighbor, sympathet ically. “I suppose in a little while you'll have entirely recovered.” "I shouldn't be surprised," agreed the small neighbor. Her New Piece. Put Her to Sleep. "Sleep," I said. "Bleep. You feel your eye* getting heavier and heavier Your head nod*. You are so very drowsy. I will support you to this chair. Rest now Sleepy and sleepier—you are so very, very sleepy. You are asleep!" Her head dropped back and she breathed like one in a deep slumber. "Rise,’ I went on, "you are now asleep and yet awake—to do my bidding. I>o you understand? You are to sing sweetly and feeling and in perfect tune and time. You understand? The pian ist will play the accompaniment of ‘The Holy City’ and you will Join * him Now—” To the wonder of the audience and particularly Professor Robley, she feebly arose. Forth from her throat came a thrilling gush of full-voiced sweetness. Like a Patti or a Melba the girl gave us song after song of melting moledy. Then I passed my hand before her eyes again ami cried: "Awake, awake.” as she was in the middle of a note. And the voice cracked and broke and fell Ifito discordant chaos. Milton Robley shook my hand enthu siastically. It is so easy to fake a faker The girl was in my scheme to i hypnotize the hypnotist! The trouble is that the spirit restlessness creates a desire to do anything else but what is the affair of the moment. There is a discontent with present surroundings, a vision ary longing for occupation* for which one may be totally unqualified. A giri must try to see very clear!v what are her duties at home and w hether she is needed there befor ■ ahe determines on an Independent ca reer away from home. A very old and sweet saying is a great help in time of doubt as to action—“Do the duty that is nearest. The second duty will already have become clear- NuT WELL ENOUGH TO WORK In these words Is hidden the tragedy of many a wage-earning woman who supports herself and is often helping to support a fam ily on meager wages. Whether in ^fflee, factory, st op, store or kltch- woman should remember that lien is «>ne ”ied and true reme dy for the ilLs to which all women are prone, and that is Lydia E. I Pinkham's Vegetable Compound. 5 It creates the vitality that makes < work easy. "I am going to try to, ' he inter rupted. "But sometimes my experi ments do hot work out just as I wish them to. Then you must pretend that I have you under my will, and do Just as 1 say anyway—you see?” "But I thought you told your au dience that your subjects are hypno tized.” I argued. "I do, but don't you understand?" he asked, getting impatient. "No, 1 don’t," 1 retorted stubbornly. Well, we didn't get much further. In asmuch as 1 wanted to try out a scheme I had in mind, however. I pretended to be overwhelmed by hi* argument and finally consented to assist hint. The first sitting was held privately before a number of his friends. When Jones-now "Professor" Jones said: "Will any ladies or gentlemen volun teer to come up here and permit me to mesmerise them?” I found I was not the only subject. About seven men responded. Then Mu Jones proceeded with hi* work. Strange mesmeric passes before the eyes of all his subjects were made, and •oon he had them under control. It was at the Juncture when things were grow ing most excited that I slipped, unob served, into an adjoining room. I at tached a bath spray to a faucet, gently playing a fine stream of water on the faces of the “hynotized" subjects. His Debut. A man "fishing” with a penknife be gan to rub his nose and stare about. Another whose neck was "stiff” sud denly found he could move it with alac rity. A fellow who couldn’t shut his mouth didn't wait to swallow much of the water before he closed his Jaws wdth a snap One of the subjects was supposed to be unable to rise from the floor, but the liquid showed very soon how powerless he was. One who couldn’t stop repeating "Mj name is Mary Smith—tny name ta Mary Smith' ceastal to gurgle. It was curious to watch the men immediately regain their senses, and my dear friend. "Professor” Jones, became very- much embarrassed. It was a little after this that I re gained the qonfldence and good will of Mrs. Jones sufficiently for him to over- Enjoying the Quiet “O O-O-H!” sighed the feminine member of the household, re laxing into a hammock. "If It Isn’t heavenly to be here In the woods—and with the lake ” "Ah-h-h!” echoed the masculine end of the sketch, subsiding with a great slump into another hammock. "Tnis is great! So fresh and still!” “Yes,” said his wife; "it’s the still ness that particularly appeals to me after the eternal racket of the city—— She broke off with a jerk. Simul taneously she sat up in her hammock and stared with horrified eyes at her husband, who likewise had been gal vanized into anguished life. Each of them bent an ear toward the left for some seconds. Then, with a Tittle shuddering groan, they subsided weakly. Horne on the clover-scented air from the third cottage down the road came the raucous tones of a phono graph. and a cheap one at that. Some vaudeville queen with a nasal voice was singing about something that was "a beautiful dream,” singing with an energy that promised no surcease throughout the succeeding months of summer. ”1 suppose a lynching party really wouldn’t do,” said the male listener, gruffly. "If 1 have to listen to that all sum mer.” said his wife, hysterically. I shall just die! Or go crazy! Why, all that bore me up while the people in the fiat below and the people across the street used to play simul taneously was the reflection that soon I should go to the country, where there was no sound but the sound of the birds!” “Well, that's a bird, all right!” said her husband. "I don’t believe I warn to rest in this hammock! I want to take a walk, a tong walk—about five miles in the opposite direction—and forget It!” “She’s one of the friendly sort,” re ported his wife later in the day, in. tones of despair. "They’ve taken ih« Rigby cottage for the season and she stopped to tell me how to weed the nasturtiums. She told me her hus band gave her the phonograph for her birthday and she wanted to know if It w asn't lovely of him. I suggested that she might spoil it by bringing it out in the damp air like this, but she said she wouldn't think of hurting John's feelings by leaving it at home." "Did she mention that she had so licitude for our feelings?" asked the man. "She asked us to come down and listen to it,” replied his wife, sw r eetly. "She laid they had some lovely rag- iVts" rec0rds and al1 the latest song With a gesture of despair her hus band warded off such a possibility. The squeaky phonograph played on from breakfast time till dusk. Some times a footlight favorite w'arbled about the lovely dream, again it was a "honey” song or a ragtime song. Robins tied the spot, thrushes vacat ed. Even the grasshoppers were grumpy. The very day that the man listener had enlivened luncheon by relating all the things he would like to do to the phonograph he came in from weed ing the garden to find It on his front porch Sitting surveying it much as though it were a deadly cobra was his wife. "She just brought It down," she told him. weakly. "She and one of the boys. They have to go to Chicago to a sister's wedding and she didn’t like to leave it at the cottage for fear something would happen to it. And she thought maybe we might enjoy using it while they were gone. George Arnold, stop looking at me like that! What could I do?” She meditatively dipped into the open flour box one small hand, over which there was a slightly brownish film, as though it might previously have been dipped into a mud pie. "I guess I’ll go into the other room and play my new piece,” she volun teered after a moment’s pause. "Do,” urged the grown-up neighbor, cordially. The small neighbor disappeared and presently the strain* of the new "piece” could be heard from the liv ing room. In a few moments the mu sician returned. "Wasn’t that a beautiful piece, and don’t you think I play it nice?” she in quired wdth proper modesty. "Yes, it was beautiful,’* replied the grown-up neighbor. "Now, suppose you run back and play it once more, and by that time I think I’ll be ready to play with you.” When the second musical feast was over and the artist had returned to the culinary’ regions, the grown-up neighbor asked, "What do you want to do now’?” The small neighbor reflected. “Do you remember,” she said finally, “that once w’hen I was here you made candy?” The grown-up neighbor admitted that she did remember the occasion. The small one thereupon amiled up at her sweetly and ingenuously. "Do you know,” she said, "that I can re member how good that candy tasted?” "Am I to gather from that remark,” smiled the grown-up neighbor, "that you would like to make some candy now?” "I think I would,” responded the other. "But you have a headache.” ven tured the grown-up neighbor, du biously. “I don’t suppose you would feel like eating any candy even if we made it.” The small neighbor looked up at her friend doubtfully. "Oh!” she cried as she detected the incipient twinkle in the neighbor’s eyes, "you’re mak ing fun. You’ll let me have some candy, won’t you? My head feels per fectly good. I could eat a bushel of candy and it wouldn’t hurt me a bit.” It Was True. "I'm afraid,” said the grown-up neighbor, seriously, when the candy was on the stove and the small visi tor was standing on her tiptoes to watch it bubble, "that the awful ac cusation made against me is true.” The small neighbor’s eye* grew very large and round. “What?” she asked. "Well, you know there is a story going the rounds to the effect that you’re getting badly spoiled by me.” “Spoiled like apples?” inquired the small neighbor. “All brow’n and wrinkled and soft so you can stick your finger into them?” "Well, you’re not browm and wrin kled, and I don’t believe I could stick my finger'into you.” "Well, then. I don’t mind being spoiled,” chirped the small one. "I guess I like it.” Then she threw her arms around her friend’s neck. "Do you know,” she whispered, "I'd rather stay here and play with you than go to any school 1 ever went tc in ail my whole life.” The grown-up neighbor gave her a severe hug. “I’m simply flattered to death," she declared. Up-to-Date Jokes A minister in a small country vil lage, who was noted for his absent- mindedness, was once observed to stop suddenly in the middle of his sermon and heard to mutter: “I knew she would—I knew she would!” After the service was over someone asked him the reason. "Dear me.” said he, “did I? Well, you know, from this pulnlt I can Just see old Mrs. Rogers’ garden, and this morning she was out pulling up a cabbage, and I thought to myself, ‘Now, if that cabbage comes up sud denly, she’ll go over;' and Just then It came up and over she went.” "You are a well, strong woman,” •aid her husband, in a hollow voice, "and you let her wish It onto you! Where is the ax?” "There is at least some satisfac tion." he said as he went to bed that night, “in knowing that I hold ray enemy in the hollow of my hajid. I’ve got that phonograph where it can’t help itself. And think of all the things I might do to it!” That night the wind rose and the man got up to close the windows and doors Stumbling through the living room in the dark, he hit an unfamiliar object, and there was a terrific crash When the wife arrived with lights, they found the phonograph in pieces all over the floor. It was beautifully smashed. “Stop!* cried his wife as the man danced insanely around the wreck, chortling with Joy. "Don't you real ize—that you’ve got to go and spend good money to buy her a new one?” American papers are not always complimentary to political candidates. This is how The Petersburg (Va.) Index refers to the man it is op posing: "He is already a noted man in the community, and between keeping out of Jail and getting into the Legisla ture he will be pretty busily engaged between now and the 8th of the month.” Professor—You say they contested the will of the deceased? Student—Yes, sir: and the court held that he was suffering from hal lucinations. Professor—On what grounds? Student—It appears that he left three-fourths of his property to his mother-in-law. CHICHESTER S PILLS TI1E DIAMOND BRAND. a ^ I a • l — it _ . . . A By DOROTfcY DIX. P ROBABLY the most difficult prob lem that a woman ever has to face is when she is required to hold the scales of Justice between her husband and her children, and decide how much of her time and attention belongs to each. Of course, there are women who are temperamentally all wives. There are other women who are, by nature, all mother. For these the question settles itself. There are also some women I fortunate enough to be married to men who are as Instinctively paternal as they are maternal. These also happily es cape having to try to unriddle the rid dle of whether it is best and wisest for a woman to spoil her llttlest baby or j her biggest baby. Much is to be said on both sides of the question. On the one is a moth er's duty to her children, her responsi bility for them, the fact that they are better off with her than even with the most competent servants. On the j other side is the difficulty that the woman who ceases to be a wfife, for the sake of becoming a nurse maid to her children, is mighty apt to lose her hus band in the process, and that the wife who won’t go with her hnsband when he wants her to go is left behind. Like wise It la true that little Johnnie can be safely left alone In his crib with bis bottle of sterilized milk, while If Big John la left alone he is apt to wander forth in search of bottles that are ster ilized. He Is Proud. On the things that women can never undestand is that, except in rare cases, a baby, even his own baby, Is the most uninteresting little animal in existence to a man. He is proud of it, and he i* fond of It In a theoretical way, but he’s bored stiff if he has to spend more than five minutes at a time in the infant’s society. For the life of him, he couldn’t spend hour after hour as a woman does, palpitating and thrilling over the mere sight of a little red, squirmy, wriggly thing with no more expression on Its countenance than a cream cheese, and with about as much intelligence as an angle worm. Therefore, when he comes home of an evening, after having paid his com pliments to Miss or Mr. Baby, he wants some rational amusement. He wants his wife to sit with him and talk to him after dinner, as has been their wont, or to go out with him to the places of amusement they have been in the habit of frequenting. On her part the woman is absolutely obsessed by the baby. She can get all the excitement, all the amusement, all DOROTHY DIX. the pleasures she wants by watching the cute way the baby breathes and the wonderful way it opens its eyes and shuts them again. She would be per fectly blissful if her husband would sit on the other side of the cradle and rhap sodize with her: and if he Won’t she leaves him to read his paper alone while she worships at the shrine of the cradle. As for going to a place of amusement, she wouldn’t think of doing such a thing. Something might happen to baby while she was gone. A Rare Breed. It is literally true that there are many homes in which, after the com ing of the first baby, the man of the house simply exists as a purveyor of food, and clothes, and pleasures of the children. He doesn’t even have an identity, nor a name. He is only ‘‘papa,’’ even to his wife. And she never thinks of consulting him pleasures or prefer ences, nor doing anything for his enjoy- men. He is supposed to get his reward in life from observing the children have everything done for them. Now and then we do observe one of these masculine angels, and see a man who has no life outside of his children; but the breed is rare. The average man is sufficiently fond of his off spring. but because he loves Johnnie, and Jamie, and Mary, it has not inocu lated him against a taste for a few other outside pleasures. He wants his wife’s society, if he loves her, and he wants to go about a bit, and he resents having his nose put so completely out of Joint by the pink fists of a baby. Right here is where the wife’s prob lem comes in—shall she go with hus band, or stay with baby?, If she’s of the ultra-maternal sort, all of her In stincts urged her to stay with the chil dren. She’d rather talk baby talk to a gurgling infant than to hear the most brilliant dinner partner converse at his most inspired moment. She'd prefer telling about Little Red Riding Hood to a round-eyed child to seeing a Belasco opening. She’d rather dacoe the baby after his bath than to be the belle of the finest ball in the city. The Wise Woman. But—and it’s a capital BUT—If She won’t go with hubby, hubby goes alone, and while she’s holding the children's hands while they go to sleep and hear- » ing their prayers, hubby is mighty apt to be holding some other woman’s hands, and saying some thing* that aren’t his prayers to the other lady. And the result is that by the time the children have gotten to the place where they don’t need mother, and mother be gins to feel the ned of a husband again, she finds out that husband got lost, strayed or stolen while she was neglect ing him. Women may resent this state of af fairs as much as they please, but their resentment doesn’t alter human nature. Men are going to be men to the end of the chapter, and it’s going to be eter nally true that the woman who keeps her husband has got to keep her hands on him all the time, and she’s got to pet him, and humor him, and go along with him, or else he’ll leave her. In reality, children will bear a little neglect better than a man, and they aren’t in half as much danger of being kidnapped as a husband is. Moreover, you can hire nurses to look after your children and keep them entertained, but a woman leaves her husband’s enter tainment to other people at her peril. Therefore, the woman who has to choose between the two, sings her husband to sleep, and spends the evening telling him fairy tales rather than her baby. The trouble is that most women do too much for their children and too little for their husbands. This isn’t fair. The man who supports the fam ily is entitled to a run for his money, even from his own wife and children. Pipette To-day’s Complete Short Story M arcel duprez, the artist. was in search of inspiration when chance led him to the Moulin de la Oalette. He was sitting over a glass of bock and watching the dancers through a trellis of painted green woodwork en twined with faded artificial wistaria, when the face of Pipette smiled out at him from the whirling crowd. It was a vivid, haunting smile, one which could not easily be forgotten, and before the night was old it flashed at him over the rim of a wine glass which she held gayly to her scarlet, curving lips. Three days later she came to his studio as the model for his new picture, "The Brink of Folly.” Hour after hour, while the sunbeams danced and flickered upon the wall op posite and Marcel worked in all the zeal of a new and fascinating theme, she would sit as still as & woodland mouse, a wistful expression in the depth* of her almond-shaped eyes, her dark hair tousled bewltchingly about her small head. The picture took three months to com plete—three months of hot, golden after noons under the sloping roof of a little Montmnrtrolse atelier. It was inevitable that they should fall in love. "When my picture has brought me success and I have become a great artist—a famous artist,” Marcel would sometimes begin, stepping back from the easel to slip an arm about the girl’s supple waist. And the latter would re tort: "Yes, my love; I know all that you are going to say. But for the present we are in love and together. What more can we ask?" And her little, warm lips would close passionately over her lover’s smiling mouth. Very Happy. They were as happy as two children in a field of buttercups. Sometimes they would make an ex cursion to St. Cloud and. climbing the hill behind the little river town, look down over Paris as it lay spread at their feet. One day as they wandered, with arms entwined, among the long avenues of emerald-tinted trees, Pipette made a confession: “Of course, I don’t love him any more. I don’t think I ever did love him— really,” she faltered in conclusion, a pink blush dyeing the tip of an averted chin. "I thought when he went away that he had gone forever, that he would never come back—and I was glad. I wanted to be free. He was so violent: he frightened me. And now he is in Paris again. I saw' him this morning on the Pont Neuf. Oh, I am afraid— INDIGESTION? Stop it quickly: Have your grocer send you one dos. bottles of SHIVA R GINGER ALE LedIm! A»k youi (kl-cbrn-ter's Di Pills in Kcd an J botes, sealed with Take n<* other Take no other. Buy of year Y Ask f rdiuUK*.TEH* MaHoND BRAND PILLS, for ** years known as Best. Safest. Alwavs Reliable SOLD BV DRUGGISTS EVLRVWHHJ5 Drink with meal*, and if not prompt ly relieved, get your money back at our expense. Wholesome, deli- 1 cious. refreshing. 1 Prenared with the celebrated Shlvar ! Mineral Water and | the purest flavoring materials. SHIVAR SPRING* Manufacturers SHELTON, S. C. j ft. L. ADAMS CO., Distributors, Atlanta afraid that he will somehow take me away from you. And I love you so! I love you so! Don’t let him take me, Marcel!” She clung to him hysterically, her fin gers tightening upon his arm, tears fill ing her lashes with quivering liquid crystals. "Hush, hush, my love,” he whispered back soothingly. "No one shall take you from me—that I sw’ear!” And bending ,his head he tilted her face to kiss the glistening drops from her troubled eyes. "The Brink of Folly” was receiving the final touches of the brush by the fading light of a September afternoon. Suddenly the sound of a step along the passage outside sent Pipette spring ing to her feet, the soft sunset dreams of the past half hour dropping about her like the folds of a gossamer veil. He Arrives. "What was that?” The thumping of a fist upon the wood en panels, accompanied by a demand for entrance in a man’s hoarse, drunken voice, broke sharply in upon them. "It’s he—Paul. What shall I do? What can I do?’’ she pleaded wildly, an agony of fear in her voice, her eyes raised beseechingly to those of her lover. For one long paralyzing moment they stood facing each other in silence. Then, lifting her bodily in his arms, the man carried her across the room to where the now finished canvas stood propped against the easel. “Hide, quickly—behind the picture!” he commanded, and stepped hurriedly back. The next instant the frail lock of the door gave way beneath the pressure of a heavy, lurching shoulder, and the tall figure of a man reeled unsteadily into the room. "i've got you n#w. my pretty one. You 11 not escape me this time—you and your precious lover,” he muttered thickly, as he Stumbled forward over the uneven floor, a sinister gleam flash ing from some object which he held TEST JL This T-r A TEA Maxwell House Blend Tea in vites compari son with anoth er kinds. Its rich full flavor and tempting fragrance set a newstandardof tea quality. Vi-ltk. i-fb. and 1-fh. Air Tight Cantata Aok your grower for it. Cbeek-Heal Coffo* Ce. Nashville Houston A Trip Abroad Only $15.95 Our an- How, where? swer—Canada. Get out of your own country for aw’hlle; cross the border; leave the good old United States behind; enjoy a complete change of manner**. customs, scenes and climate. Go up into the Highlands of Ontario, which comprise the noted Muskoka Lakes. Algonquin Park, French River. Georgian Bay, Tima- gami and Lake or Bays. Only a day's journey from Chicago with From Chicago Temperature cooler than even Chicago and an atmos phere tar more bracing be cause of the pine forests and clear cold streams. Fish, hunt or Idle In quiet amid primitive atmrllcltjr. yet under living conditions which are nude comfortable, yea. even luxurious, by the comprehensive resort system provided by the Grand Trunk Railway. Farther east of the Rlfhlanda qf Ontario, also reached direct by the Grand Trunk dou ble tracks, are Montreal (St Lawrence River en route), Quebec, Portland. Boston, Old Orehard Beach, and New London, Conn., while on either an lnaxpenalve circle tour or direct are New York. Atlantia City. Nlacara Falls and tho Atlantic aeaahore. journey from the lowest round trip summer rates. Your Name and Address, Please; we want to send to you, free of cost, our comprehensive. Illustrated guide-books. Simply ad drees J. D. McDonald. Assistant Gen'l Pass. Agent, I' J j * | clasped in his right hand. Then, catch- ' ing sight of the painted life-like por trait of Pipette smiling whimsically across the darkening rodm, he halted abruptly as though hypnotized. The next moment he had sprung for ward with the snarl of a wild beast and struck savagely at the canvas with the sharp blade of a stiletto. r ' There was a shrill, terrified shriek as the hidden girl sank wounded to the ground, one little white arm flung out upon the floor beyond the edge of the mutilated picture. For a while It lay quivering in a pool of pink sunlight, the same little white arm that Marcel had so often kissed Then the fingers curled up like the petal of a flower and were still.