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4“ Their Married Life By MABEL HERBERT URNER. T HE Bon Marchel From a child Helen had heard of it as the great shop of Paris It was at the Bon Marche that the heroines of all the French novels she had ever read had bought their gowns. It was from the Bon Marche that TTnde Mart brought Aunt Ellen that l<»ng gray cloak. Helen was a very lit tle girl then, but she remembered every bit of braid and every button on that wonderful wrap. When Aunt Ellen used to come to spend the day, Helen would steal up to the spare room to look with awe at the “Paris wrap" spread out on the bed. The gray silk cord and tassel, the big pearl buttons, and most wonder ful of all the gilt-lettered label, the “Bon Marche.” For the five or six years that Aunt Ellen wore that coat, it gave her a cer tain social prestige. Even after it was made over, it was still the coat that “Uncle Mart brought from Paris.” And Helen never saw it that she did not picture that far-away Parisian store—the Bon Marche. Somehow she always thought of it as a great build ing with marble steps and stone lions, with open victorias and prancing horses before the entrance, and ladies with trailing gowns and men w’ith high silk hats (after the manner of old prints) walking by. "Now that Helen herself stood before the Bon Marche her feelings were com plex. There were no marble steps, no stope lions, no open victorias, but In stead a building that lookc** much like a huge market place with Its stalls of cheap goods along the sidewalk outside. Her first Impulse was to go straight to the cloak department to see first of all just where Aunt Ellen’s wrap had been bought so many years ago. With out stopping to view the confusing quantity and variety of goods displayed on the first floor, she took a moving stairway to the third gallery. A large hanging sign, “Mantles,” was just ahead. So this was the very department! Helen looked around almost expecting to see a duplicate of Aunt Ellen’s gray cloak on one of the many wax figures. But these clinging models of satin and lace were very different from the gen erous folds of th*<t quaint old cloak. On a black and green satin opera wrap thrown carelessly over a chair, Helen caught a glimpse of a gold let tered ’abel. With a thrill of familiarity she sav . was the same label, the same lettering, even the same scroll line from the “E” back under the name. Determined to Buy. Helen was determined to buy some thing here, to take something home with a “Bon Marche” label, if only as a ful fillment of her girlish dreams. She locked longingly at an evening wrap of white crepe de chine with long knotted fringe and a price tag of 275 francs—$55. But Helen’s need of an evening gown was much more impera tive the* e wrap, and she felt she could not afford to get both. Warren had already made some busi ness acquaintances here, with whom they were invited to dine next Thurs day. And as Helen, in anticipation of her Paris shopping, had brought almost no clothes with her, she must have a gown for that dinner. In the next department were the “Robes.” Here on roped-in platforms stood groups pf smiling wax figures. But the price tags of from 350 to 1,000 francs on these beaming ladles were most disconcerting. Helen was more than ever convinced that she could buy gowns just as attractive and just as cheap in New York. Besides the wax figures, there was case after case of evening gowns, which could be seen behind glass doors. Helen made a general survey of them all, and then sat down to await an English- speaking clerk. On the chair beside here were thrown half a dozen gowns, left there after they FARMER'S WIFE ALMOST A WRECK Restored to Health by Ly dia E. Pinkham’s Vege table Compound—Her Own Story. Westwood, Md.—‘1 ora a farmer's wife and do most of my own work when I am able. I had nerv ous spells, female weakness and ter rible bearing down pains every month. I also suffered much with my right side. The pain started in my back and extended around mv right side, and tne doc tor told me it was organic tnflamma- I was sick every three weeks and had to stay In bed from two to four days. “It is with great pleasure I tell you what Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound has done for me. I have followed your directions as near as possible, and feel much better than ] have felt for years. When I wrote you before I was almost a wreck. You can publish this letter If you like. It may help to strengthen the faith ol some poor suffering woman.”—Mrs. John F. Richards, Westwood, Mary land. Women who suffer from those dis tressing ills pemrtlar to their sex should not doubt the ability of Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound to restore their health. 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- »d by a woman, and held in strict confidence. had been shown to some customer. Helen glanced over them casually and then with sudden interest, drew from beneath the others a white chiffon with a pale blue girdle. Compared to the bizarre effects of many of the others, this was charming ly simple and girlish, with its fine ac cordion pleated skirt and soft wide gir dle; Helen glanced at the price and was delighted to find that on the ticket “Occasion” was written in red ink, and the original 290 francs was marked down to 210. There are many English-speaking clerks In the Bon Marche, and in a few moments a saleswoman was bringing from the cases gown after gown and displaying them on chairs before Helen. Then she led the way to a mirrored fitting room, where Helen tried on sev eral, and decided on the white ohiffon. Very Obliging. “Now can you have this altered by Thursday noon? “This is Saturday,” mused the clerk. “I’ll make it special, madame, and you’ll have ft Thursday morning. I’ll just call the fitter.” She returned with an older French woman, who could not speak English, but who saw at a glance what altera tions were needed, and her deft fingers were soon pinning up the skirt and rais ing the waist line. "How much will the alterations be?” asked Helen. “Five francs, madame,” the clerk in formed her. Five francs—only one dollar! Helen looked her surprise at the cheapness of this. Surely there must be some mis take, for the dress was much too large and would practically have t > be re made. “We charge only five francs for any alterations.” explained the girl. “A gown properly fitted gives much more satisfaction to the customer, so, e/en at a loss, we’d rather alter it here.” She had taken Helen’s address* and now she gave her a slip with the time of her first fitting, Tuesday at 12, for, to Helen’s amazement, there were to be two fittings on this 6-franc alteration. Surely the Bon Marche spent time and money to make their gowns satisfac tory. "What deposit shall I leave,’’ taking out her purse. “Oh, that isn’t necessary, madame. You pay when the gown is finished or when it is delivered—as you wish." “You mean you alter gownq—rip them to pieces without a cent deposit?” Hel en asked in astonishment. The girl smiled. “Many American la dies are surprised at that. But we rare ly ask for a deposit—and never from Americans. We find them very good customers.” “Well, that’s more than our own shops would do for us,” laughed Helen. "No American stores would alter a gown without a deposit, unless you had an account there.” It was half past 12 when Helen left the fitting room, and already the clerks were straightening up their counters for the 1 o’clock Saturday closing. Since Warren could not do any busi ness this afternoon, he had promised to meet her at the hotel about 1:30, take her to luncheon, ajid then out to some nearby resort. And now In happy an ticipation of having the rest of the day with him, Helen clirpbed Into the' hot, dusty bus. When she reached the hot£i he was already there, going over some accounts by the awning-shadeo window. “Dear, I bought a dress at the Bon Marche!” excitedly, as she stooped over to kiss, and then launched Into an en thusiastic description of the gown. But Warren only grunted as he added up some figures from the stubs of his checkbook. “Eh? What’s that? Been to the Bon Marche?” when he finally pushed back his papers. “How about it? Get any thing?” Helen Excited. “And I’ve just finished telling you about the dress I bought!’ indignantly. “I’m not going over all that again— you’ll have to wait till you see it.” “Um-m, guess I can stand the sus pense. What else did you get?” “That’s all. They had a wonderful evening wrap there for 250 francs—but I thought that was more than I ought to pay.” “Wei, if it’s what you want—get It. Met Watson to-day and he wants to take us to the Folles Bergere and some supper place next week. You'll have to have some clothes while we’re over here —so you might as well pitch in and get ’em.” “But. dear. I feel I oughtn't to spend so much on clothes with all the expense of the trip and the expenses here.” “That’s all right. I’ll make this trip pay good money. Things are coming along in fine shape. Go ahead and get yourself what you need.” With a little cry of delight Helen stooped over and pressed her cheek against his. ‘Look out there—you'll knock those papers off! See here, if we’re going to St. Cloud—you’d better hustle. Haven’t had any luncheon yet.* Helen flew to get ready, her heart beating fast with excitement. This was one of the rare moments when the world seemed a very beautiful place and she a very fortunate woman. To have the whole afternoon and ev ening. and all day to-morrow, for out ings w’ith Warren! And Monday morn ing to be able to go back to the Bon Marche and get the 250 franc wrap. Helen thought of the wistful little girl that used to stand by the bed in the spare room, gazing at Aunt Ellen’s “Paris cloak” with awe and wonder and undefined longing. If only she could have known then, that some day she would be in Paris— and that she would buy a wrap at the Bon Marche! Beauty Pauline Frederick Tells the Secret of Her Great Charm and Dazzling Loveliness » BEHIND CLOSED DOORS One of the Greatest Mystery Stories Ever Written Well Informed. Scene—A village postoffioe. Caller—Anything for me? Postmaster—I don’t s^e nothin'. Caller—I was expectin’ a letter or post card from Aunt Meggs, tollin’ what day she was cornin’. Postmaster (calling to his wife) - Did you see a post card from Mrs. Metcalf's aunt” Wife—Yes; she s coming on Thurs day. By LILIAN LAUFERTY. A BEAUTIFUL Jewel deserves a rare setting. Pauline Freder ick’s artistic little home, set high above the pavement with the beauty of a perfect vista of green Central Park, New York, swirling in waves of atmosphere up to greet your delighted eye, furnishes exactly the background that this loveliest of women should have. And this “loveliest of women”—the Zuleika of “Joseph and His Brethren'' —turns out to be a trimly smart shirt waist girl, whose delightful sense of humor and simple enthusiasm of manner claim place with picture pret- tlness in the category of her charms. Instead of sitting back in lacka daisical loveliness and merely being in the picture, Miss Fredericks is ever working and striving for success in her art, for supreme health of the healthy out-of-doors, free-to-every- one kind, and for the supple slender ness that she and Dame Fashion agree in admiring. Too Severe. “I like the idea of being Just as slender as perfect health will permit —which means, ‘make haste slowly’ in the melting process. A lot of fresh air, and a little of food seem to pro duce the fewest number of pounds and the most health,” said the wom an who has been called by Harrison Pauline Frederick’s Best Picture. Fisher the prettiest American girl. Once upon a time, my story goes, I tried to melt 25 pounds all off at once. I did it in five weeks and al most deprived my heart of the ability to work at the same time. I used swathe my body in sheets of medi cated rubber, and then finish my costume with a few sweaters, and then go on little tramps up the Alps in the neighborhood of Thun—near Lucerne, you know. I was combining too many methods at once. The out door air of the mountain country Is a wonderful tonic, sane exercise is a re ducing factor, and the medicated rub ber has a Turkish bath effect in melt ing off pounds. But one thing at a time in the thinning process—or good red blood and air-pumpingjungs will be reduced to mere onlookeVa in the struggle for existence. “The simple life In summer Is a wonderful tonic—Jiair down in braids so it can Join you in breathing In clean, pure air, and In breathing out paeans of praise for the glory of out- of-doors. Getting away from people and near to Nature will bring you back to the city ready to put your best self into your winter’s work. And if your ’best self means a self minus ten or twelve pounds, why, ex ercise sanely, bathe earnestly, and try this diet: For breakfast, orange juice, a whole glassful of it, to be sipped and enjoyed. For luncheon, two eggs, boiled or poached; some very dry toast and tea with lemon. For dinner, boiled fish or roasted chicken 9alad, any non-starchy vege table and plenty of stewed fruit or acid fresh fruit.” I grinned a bit at the thought of gracefully slender, willowy Pauline Frederick’s appearing on the scenes as an expert on the gentle art of get ting thin—but “getting thin” is not what courts—keeping your slender lines In defiance of the ravages of a limousine or office-chair sedentary life and the temptations of the French pastry tray is the secret Pauline Frederick imparts. What Counts. “And now for the complexion," went on the scintillating star. “I have two W that are a trustworthy pair of friends to my skin. Let me inlroduee you. Cream—not ‘cold’ cream, but plain cream, ‘common or garden’ cream—to ward off the rav ages of sunburn and tan from the skin that does not take on a pictur esque coppery hue, but that bums a la lobster and sheds itself a ia snake. Cream will clear your skin from dust, will heal th€> blemishes that are try ing to establish themselves and will write ‘no thoroughfare’ for the imper fections that are planning to invite themselves. Cream and cast He soap lathered in thoroughly and washed out again. They make cleanliness and complexion loveliness.” Outdoors, a sane diet, cream and castile soap! And lovely Pauline Frederick recommending them. Join me, little sisters, for I intend hitch ing my wagon of desire, for beauty to this beautiful star. THE REVOLVER IN THE WINDOW FEEL so afraid in this lonely house. Must we stay here overnight? Wouldn’t It be bet ter to ride on?” For Jim Stacey it would have been nothing to ride ten miles further that night, but little Malsy, his companion, was almost exhausted. “It is Just because you are tired fil er the long ride that you feel afraid, darling. I dare not make you ride furthe. You need not be afarid. We are many miles away from Golden Gulch and have nothing to fear from Red Jake and his consorts. It was a gerat stroke of luck thltt we found this empty cabin To-morrow, when we have had a good rest, it will be easy enough to ride the twenty miles to my ranch, our future home.” “Oh, how I do wish we were there now, Jim,” Maisy sighed. “Perhaps I am mistaken, but ever since we came here it seems to me as if lhave heard sneaking steps around the house.” "Nothing but imagination, Maisy dear,” said Jim witha laugh. “There can not be a soul near the empty house.” Just then one of the horses neighed loudly. They were standing in a shed near the house. Maisy turned pale. Do you remember Jim, j’ou once told me that a horse never neighs unless there is a strange horse near It?" “It may also mean that it Is hungry. I am going to feed them now." He kissed her tenderly and went into the little hall, but as sonn as he opened the door to the rear leading to the hack yeard he saw by the light of the moon something which told him that Maisy was right. Just outside the door was the fresh track of a maccasin. a foot gear worn not only by Indians, but also by white men who desire to cover their tracks. He i nmediately closeJ the door and stood inside, listening. Presently he h< ard step.*. Somebody was prepar rg •. i.tt-rk tHe:a and kill cither him oi l.ia bildy. He knew it would be dangerous to go out and try to drive them away, but he also knew that It would be even more dangerous not to do It. If they re- malnded in the house they wotr.d be caught in a trap. He went back into the room again. “You were right, Maisy,” he said. “There is somebody sneaking around the bouse, wether it is a tramp or a coyote. I must try to scare him away, not mat ter what it is Do you know how to handle a revolver? I you do you might be a great help to me. If anything should hapen.” He produced both his revolvers and gave one to Maisy “I never fired a shot In my life,” said Maisy “But you must try to do it now, if it should be necessary. Put out^he lights as soon as I leave the house and peep through the window. If you seen any body running by, fire.” Without waiting for any apswer he left the house through the rear door. He crept cautiously up to a clump of srubbery. The moon was behind a cloud and It was very dark. Then he sat down, listening for the invisible enemy to reveal his whereabouts. Suddenly he remembered that he had left the door open so that any one might enter the house. He Jumped up and ran toward the door Just as the moon came out again. “Hands up,” shouted a well-known voice. “So it is you, Red Jake,” he said calmly, while he slowly raised his hands. "I thought It was you. What do you want here?” “I arn going to kill you and make ; Maisy my wife. I told you I did not I intend to let you have her." “She chose me ami she hates you, as you know very well. Besides, we are married now." Jim said absolutely calm. “And still she shall belong to me and * not to -you. I let. you get married, knowing that my turn waa soon ti come. I might have killed you without telling you this, but revenge is even sweeter now that I can tell you. As soon as my bullet has gone through your brain she shall be mine. Of course she may object, but precious little good It will do her.” Despair and fury were raging in Jim’s brain. What could he do to save his Maisy from this scoundrel, who had persecuted her with his declarations of love and planned this awful revenge be cause she had spumed him? Did he hear right? Did she really open the window at which she was standing when he went out? Yes, she did indeed. He could see her now lean ing forward revolver in hand. To warn her would be to hurry his own death and her ruin. The next second he knew how to act. “There you sit crouching behind the bushes like a toad, Red Jake,” he said in a loud voice, “and you have no idea that just now Maisy got the drop on you wltjl her revolver.” Jake turned around quickly to look it the window and at the same moment Jim sent a bullet crashing through his head. By ANNA KATHARINE GREEN. (Copyright, 1913, by Anna Katharine Green.) TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT. “Then she was not here when that scream was heard?” interrupted Dr. Cameron. "No, sir; and Peter says*--he was on the stairs, sir, at the time—that the scream came from our young lady’s room. But I think he was mistaken, for there was no one there to scream—” “Wasn’t there a hair-dresser or some such woman?” queried the other. The servant shook his head. “But 1 saw some such woman go in before we went downstairs,” persisted the doctor. "Very likely, but she must have'come out again; for Miss Gretorex—I ask your pardon, sir—Mrs. Camerofi locked the door after her. as she wouldn't have done if she had left anybody in the room. I was in the hall, sir, and saw her, as perhaps you did, too, for you were standing where you are now, sir. if you remember.” Dr. Cameron did remember, though the incident made no impression on him at the time; and puzzled more than he wished to appear, he waved the man aside and made another attempt to en ter his room. But he was stopped again and this time by his wife’s voice. He turned quickly; she was advancing to ward him with a light step, her veil oiT, her gloves torn from her hands. “Pardon me,” she entreated, "but I have changed my mind. I do not see any reason why y/e should go downstairs agsin befor* all those people. 1 am not well, and they know It, and you hear yourself what a good time they are hav ing without us. Let us go away at once. I do so long to be out of the house—and—and—you will please me so if you say yes.” Going to Washington. She laid her ungloved hand upon his arm, but she quickly withdrew It. Her eyes, however, continued raised to his with a look of which he felt the eager ness and also the Inscrutability. He did not know what to say. “We are going to Washington, are we not?" she now half Interrogated, half asserted. He replied that this had been his in tention. “Then we shall have to start soon, for it is a long ride to Jersey City.” “I had expected”—he began, but he did not continue. Why waste words when she waa only asking him to do what his own better Judgment told him was best? “You will go?” she persisted. “As soon as you can get ready.” Her look of relief was unmistakable. She smfled and a tint of color came into her cheek. “You are good,” she declared, warmly. Then as a loud swell of music rose from below, she glanced nervously at her dress and drew back. "I have to put on my traveling suit,” she remarked. “When that Is done we will call mother. iValt for me in your room.” And with a nod she gilded from him, her long train sweeping behind her, with reckless haste. He watched her for a moment, his brows bent, but his heart in a glow. He did not understand her, but at this crisis he did not know that he wished to. The fascination of her look might depart when her trouble did. apd he was not yet ready to see it go even though he grieved to have her 111, and felt a pang of real pain at the sight of her hollow eyes whose glance he had lately found so brilliant. She Re-entered. He was therefore looking in her direc tion when she re-entered her room, and still looking when in less than a minute she came out again, and, peering care fully on all sides, slipped up to a door nearby, opened it. and, discovering noth ing to disturb her, passed hurriedly In. She carried her suit, hat and a small traveling satchel on her arm. It made him think of his own clothes and of an other fact that was slightly embarrass ing. This was, that his trunk was at his own house and his money also. Neither had he any carriage at his dis posal, having dismissed his own. as we remember, at the elevated station down town. Ha would therefore have to re quest Mrs. Gretorex to order up her horses, which was certainly an awkward piece of business, and he would have to carry his bride to his own house before he could start with her for Washington. Small Matters. But these were small matters after the serious anxieties he had already ex perienced, and determining to make light of the whole affair, he sent word to Mrs. Gretorex that circumstances com pelled him to take his bride away at an earlier hour than he had contemplated and asked if he might be accommo dated with the use of her carriage, as his own was not at his command. This brought the lady to his room as he had expected, and a short passage at arms occurred between them which ended in his wishes being respected and the carriage ordered But Mrs. Gretorex was greatly disappointed and did not hesitate to say so. It was consequently a relief to Dr. Cameron to have their in terview interrupted as it shortly was by the apearance of his wife, fully dressed and ready for departure. "Oh!” she murmured, as she saw them together, and sat down the satchel she carried in some, confusion. But she ■■■ speedily recovered her self-possession, and, advancing lightly, observed with careless ease: “Sorry to leave you so soon, mother. It would pleasant to stay; of course, but I had an awful shock when that scream was heard, and Dr. Cameron thinks as I do, that we had better go while I have the strength to do so. You will pardon us, won’t you, especially as you will see us so soon again?” Mrs. Gretorex did not answer; she was examining her daughter’s dress. She Looked Well. "Well, I never saw you look so well in olive before,” she observed at last, as the daughter turned almost petulently aside. "And how that new dressmaker does fit you! Your figure looks as well again as It did in Mme. Dubois’ dresses. Any one would have declared you had gained five pounds If they did not stop to see that It was the skill of the modiste that had rounded you out so gracefully. I will never Interfere In such matters again, my love.” The young bride flushed, as If thi* ob trusion of feminine trivialities Into a departure of this nature was especially distasteful to her. But she said nothing and lifted her face to be kissed, in the cold and somewhat eeremonlous way Dr. Cameron had himself been accustomed to. “Good-bye. mamma, ’ she murmured. “Say the same to papa for me. I—Oh, where la Peter? I have a trunk to go down." "Peter is coming now. Good-bye. Dr. Cameron. Bring my daughter back as happy as she was four hours ago ard 1 shall have nothing more to ask of you." And Mrs. Gretorex stepped aside as If to make room for them to pass out. But though Dr. Cameron, animated by her gesture, led the way to the door, his bride show r ed no disposition to fol low him. “I will wait till Peter has taken my trunk,” she declared. And though he endeavored to urge her to descend while the hall was com paratively empty, she refused to do so. and not only lingered till Peter appeared but persisted In going with him herself Into her room, where she showed him her trunk, straped and ready by the door, and watched him till he had car ried It safely out. “I don't see where the maids ar$,” murmured Mrs. Gretorex. But her daughter, not minding the Im plied criticism, advanced with forced gayety, and. taking Dr. Cameron’s arm announced that she was now ready to depart. “I will Just close and lock your door,” said Mrs. Gretorex. But her daughter, saying there would be plenty of time for doing this after her departure, led her mother toward the stairs, and smilingly wait ed till she had seen her long damask train disappear across the first land ing. Then she looked up at Dr. Cam eron and they ran rapidly down. Saying Good-Bye. “We will slip out at quietly as we can,” she whispered. But the com pany had already got wind of their departure and there were many good byes to be answered, and much merri ment, to which Genevieve lent herself with a good grace, though her husband could see that her eye scarcely left her mother’s tall figure, and that the grasp of her hand on his arm tightened if ever that mother made the least movement as Jf about to withdraw Finally, the last handshake was giv en, the last Jest uttered and they found themselves at the carriage door. “Now,” he cried, “we shall soon be on our way.” And he held the door open for her to enter. But she was not yet ready. "I have something to say to Peter first,” she declared. And slipping up to the old servant, who was jusf about to reen ter the house, she thanked him and gave him what seemed a final gift. The man bowed and went hurriedly In. She cast one look behind her, sighed, or ho her husband thought, then turned quickly and stepped into the carriage. The doctor followed, the carriage rolled away. As It did so, the young husband felt the pressure of his wife’s head on his shoulder, and looking down into her face perceived that she had fainted. Was Getting Old. Mr. Gryce had observed that he was getting old. He never felt older than he did that night, when after the dis covery of the mistake he had made, he turned humiliated from the pres ence of Mrs. Gretorex and the man whom he had caused to suffer such a succession of serious and wholly un necessary emotions. He was unused to making mistakes He had always been so wary, so exact, so sure of his premises, that he could look back upon few cases where his conclusions had been really at fault, and on none before w’here the outcome of his efforts left him in w r hat some of his young and possibly envious rivals might call a ridiculous position. “It is a new sensation,” he muttered, as he passed down the elegant stair case on his way out. “Well, a new sen sation is something. I have heard some men say they would give a good deal to experience one. But as for me, give me the old ones; they are certainly more satisfactory.” And with a bitter smile he prepared to thread his way through the brilliant throng that cir culated between the staircase and the side door by which he had entered and by whioh he was expected to go out. To Be Continued To-morrow. There Was a Reason. “Are you going anywhere this sum mer?” "No. I have decided to stay at home with ,ny husband.” "What's the trouble? Has he been having financial reverses or do you think you have reason to be suspi cious of him?” EAT MEAT SPARINGLY DURING SUMMER. Meat heats the blood—eat very little of It during hot weather. That doesn’t mean that you have to sac rifice nourishing food because it is heating. You will find Faust Spaghetti more nourishing than meat, and it Is also a light, cooling food. By analysis you will find that a 10c package of Faust Spaghetti contains as much nutrition as 4 lbs. of beef. It is a rich, glutinous food made from Durum Wheat, the cereal extremely high In protein. Faust Spaghetti can be served in many different ways—write for free recipe book. Sold In 5c and 10c pack ages. MAULL BROS. St Louis, Mo. Happy Hours Away from Home A pleasant rail ride to the port of Savannah, Ga. Through trains, large, easy and well-ventilated coaches, parlor and sleeping cars, via CENTRAL OF GEORGIA RAILWAY Thence a joyous sea voyage. Vying with up-to-date hotels, the ships in this service are equipped with state-rooms de luxe, cold and hot, salt and fresh, tub and shower baths. Table d’hote service furnishes choicest delicacies of northern and southern markets. Best table waters. Through tickets to Eastern resorts. ROUND-TRIP FARES FROM ATLANTA Including meals and berth on ahip New York. $38.25 Baltimore $29.25 Boston ... 42.25 Philadelphia 34.05 Proportionately low fare® from other pointe. For all detail®, berth reservations, eto., ask the nearest Ticket Agent. WiiR*N II. Fooo, District Passenger Agent Cor. Peachtree and Marietta 8ta. Atlanta, Ga. Historic College For Women Wesleyan MACON, GEORGIA Delightful climate. Thorough and extensive coarse 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. Addrees, Dept. M. C. R. JENKINS, Macon Georgia