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The Manicure Lady SURE! ONE GOOD TURN DESERVES ANOTHER “I By WILLIAM F. KIRK. GUESS there ain’t many real human beings that goes to the boarding houses at the sea shore, George,” said the Manicure Lady. “I was down to Tybee for a week-end, and I was entertained beautiful by a friend of mine that always does everything right. She and her husband is perfect darlings, George. He always takes her wher ever she wants to go, and she thinks he Is the only man on this globe. She is one of them kind of wivei*. George, that thinks when she hears about. Julius Caesar that her husband would have had Julius’ jo > if he had been living then. “But they was the only two regular guys on that porch after we had ate our dinner and went out to let it digest in the shade. There was four married women there about forty years old or so, and two young chaps that had traveled extensively on the trolley cars. They were setting there talking to the old gals, showing how brown their arms was from swim ming and how much muscle they had, and the old gals was fine to them, beaming on them Just as If they was grown-up men. After the two chaps had went for their third swim that day, the old gals began telling what divine waltsers the kids was, and how one of them was very witty. “But oh, dear doctor! When the name of one of the younger married ladies came up, a lady that didn’t happen to be there at the time, there was sure some scandal. “ ‘They say her husband drinks something brutal!’ says One of the old hens. “ ‘I wouldn’t be sumrised.’ says an other. ‘She would drive any man to drink with that temper of hers.’’* ‘‘What else do you expect from that kind of folks?' asked the Head Bar ber. ‘‘I never sat on a boarding house porch in my life, unless it was with some of the old Homans, long after the women folks had went to bed. I never could stand all the cruel things they said about the other wo men. Many a young married lady has been kissed and called ‘dearie’ hy the old fat and forty girls, only to b$ hammered into pulp when they mov ed fifty feet away. I was up in the country not long ago and heard some of those rocking-chair dames work ing. Two of the young chaps thers happened 10 be live ones, and went to the village to get a few steins on a hot day. They mentioned it when they got back home, and the next morning when they started out one of the dames says ’Look at Mr. Doo- nan and Mr. McSherry!’ and another says, ‘Yes, there they go!’ I suppose w hen the young fellow got back In the evening every one of the ancients says 'Here they come!’” “That’s the trouble, George,’ said the Manicure Lady. “This would be a whole lot different world In which to live in if it wasn’t for the 'There they go!’ and ‘Here they come!’ peo ple. If they see a young fellow throwing himself away and going .0 the dogs, you don’t hear many folks shouting 'Come back and get wise!* They all say ‘There he goes!’ and they say it as cheerful as a kid say ing ‘Oh Mamma, here comes the cir cus parade!’ ‘‘This is too hot a day to do much demoralizing, George, but I do wish that folks would be kinder to each other and bury the hammer. It ain’t hatchets that needs burying in this world, George, it’s hammer.” Hints For the Household When about to make a pudding, well fiour your board and rolling-pin and roll the suet out to a thin sheet. Take between your hands and rub down, when you will find the suet as fine as breadcrumbs. Before putting curtain hooks in cur tains in damp weather, rub the pins with a clean, oily rag. It prevents them rusting and tearing the curtain, and they can be taken in and out more easily. Save all old bits of twine, knot them together, then knit with steel needles into pieces about a foot or more square. These make excellent dish clothes for saucepans and pie- dishes. When washing Dudding cloths, throw some orange peelings into the water. This collects the grease and helps to make the cloths white and clean looking. If great care is not taken flatirons easily become rusted. The following U a good way to clean them when this occurs: Tie a lump of beeswax in a piece of rag, and when theirons are hot rub them with this. Then rub them well with salt on a cloth, and they will be quite smooth and clean. Before arranging maidenhair fern in vases, soak it for two hours in cold water; then singe the ends of the stems with a match. Ferns thus treated will last three times as long and keep quite green and fresh for several days. Hot-water marks may be removed from japanned trays by the simple process of rubbing them over well with sweet oil, and then polishing with a little dry flour on a toft dus ter. Palmer’s Skin Whitener For Dark Complexions TTS EFFECT Is marvelous ^ upon a dark or sallow skin. You cannot realize what It will do until you have used It. Guaranteed pure and harmless Postpaid2, 5 Q,Anywhere All Jacobs’ Stores And Druggists Generally. We’re looking back to see if they Are looking back to see if we Are looking back to see if they « Are looking back at us. One Woman’s Story . By VIRGINIA TERHUNE VAN DE WATER CHAPTER XIV. M ARY DANFORTH awoke early on the morning of her grad uation day. She lifted her watch from the table at the head of her bed and glanced at it sleepily, noting with satisfaction that it still lacked more than an hour to break fast time. She lay half awake and let happy thoughts drift through her mind— light, girlish thoughts of the beauty of her graduation gown; affectionate thoughts of her father, speeding home from a business trip in the far West to be with his daughter on this important day; tender, timid thoughts of Gordon Craig. In a letter written a week ago her lover had repeated his assurance that he would see her graduate. This epistle had reached her only the day before yesterday, and since then she had heard nothing from him, yet she was sure that he would be true to his word. She smiled now as she lay in her darkened room, a smile that was full of pure joy. She knew that Craig would have a question to ask when they met, and she also knew what her answer would be. She had no doubt now’ that she loved him dearly and was proud and happy in her love. The smile faded slowly from her lips, and she slept again. Her mother’s gentle knock on the door awakened her a half hour later. ‘‘It’s time to get up, girlie!” she announced, entering the room. “Breakfast will be ready soon and father has telephoned from the Grand Central to say that he will be up to eat it with U8, as his train is just in. So try to be ready when he comes.” She kissed Mary as she had done each morning sine© the girl’s birth, then hurried away on household tasks intent. The trio had a happy breakfast to gether in the sunlit dining room. Mr. Danforth. haggard and pale—“from a sleepless night on the cars,” as he explained—was once more at the head of the table, cheery and happy in spite of his evident Weariness. The morning meal over, he pushed his chair back from the table and, drawing Mary down upon his knees, questioned her with affection and in terest about her plans for the day. He did not mention Craig’s name. An unusual reticence had kept the Tex an from his conversation ever since the young man had returned home, and when Mary had mentioned with studied indifference the fact that “Mr. Craig might possibly happen to be in New York on Commencement Day,” her father let the statement pass without comment. After a few minutes’ chat this morning he declared that he must go to his office for a part of the day. At the front door he paused and came back to the dining room to kiss Mary, although he had already bade her an affectionate goodby. “This is just to kiss my little girl once more,” he explained, patting her cheek fondly. ‘‘She will be i grownup lady when I see her again.” It was late in the afternoon that Mary left the house to go down to her school. Her class were to have an early farewell supper in the gym nasium and would go directly from that to their graduation exercises At 8 o’clock she and the rest of her class took their places In the great school auditorium, which was already crowded. Mary looked vain ly among the sea of faces for the three persons who mad© her small world. Of course, her parents wera here, she mused, although she could not discern them—but was Craig here, too? The white-haired principal arose to speak, and a hush fell on the house. Suddenly Mary knew that her lover had come. She felt his eyes upon her, and, looking up, saw him in the gallery above her. Their glances met and he smiled, but the girl blushed hotly and dropped her eyes. Her heart throbbed wildly. She had been eager to see him, but now she wished to evade his steady gaze and hide herself, yet she was happy to be in his presence. She raised her han<jl to her throat, and, caressingly, touched the hidden silver trinket he had sent her. Those who knew her said Mary Danforth had never looked sweeter and fairer than when she rose at the calling of her name and went forward to receive her diploma. She did not think of the thousands of glances resting upon her, but only of the look of the man she loved. She longed to lift her eyes and gaze into his face, but she could not. Through the valedictory she sat silent, un- hearing, her eyes upon her diploma and the mass of flowers which had been handed her. She knew some of them were sent by Craig, the rest by her parents. At last she became aware that It was all over, that people were rising and that everybody about her was talking. A gray-haired, sweet-faced teacher accosted her. “May I speak to you a moment, dear child?” she said quietly. ‘‘Come with me.” Puzzled and vaguely alarmed the girl obeyed the older woman’s bid ding and followed her into a small anteroom adjoining the auditorium. As Mary noted the woman’s grave demeanor a dread clutched at her heart, and she held her breath to listen. “I have bad news for you,” said her teacher simply. "You must go right home to your mother. She h3s sent for you. Your father” She paused, and the girl clasped her hands in an agony of fear. “Oh, what is it?” she gasped. "Tel! me quickly! Is he hurt, or 111, or”— Her voice failed her suddenly, for Gordon Craig stood beside her. She had not seen him enter, and he took her trembling hands in his firm grasp. “Dear,” he said quickly, but softly, while his body shielded her from the glances of persons passing the door, “your father will never be hurt or ill again. Be brave, dear. He died an hour ago.” An Impossible Post. With tense, eager faces, the great audience of women leaned forward :n their seats, eagerly drinking in the noted speaker’s every word. “Mere man,” she was saying, “is w T ont to belittle woman’s ability to enter th© fields already usurped by him. As a matter of fact, she is capa ble of filling any post of public or private office now held by man, and, if appointed to it, could even perform man’s tasks with greater faithfulness and greater daring. “Name, if you can, one post for which she can not fit herself! Nam** one office to which she would not, could not, give the greatest measure of capability, the highest degree of courage, the ” A mere man, who had slipped, un noticed, into a back seat, rose at this point, and the light of sudden inspira tion gleamed in his eye. “Rat catcher!” he shouted. And then he fled. Their Married Life By MABEL HERBERT URNER. HAT must be the landing down there! I can’t see that sign, but I’m sure that’s where you get the St. Cloud boats.” “Hadn’t you better ask some one,” ventured Helen. “It's so far to go way down there and find it isn’t the place.” "I tell you it IS the place,” scowled Warren, who always hated to ask his way, and often wore Helen out trying to find a place without guidance. Already they had walked across the Alexandre bridge, and Helen was tired and hot. Her feet ached, too, for she had foolishly started out in a pair of white canvas pumps which she had bought the day before. A gravel path and stone steps ied down to what Warren thought was the boat landing. But evidently It was not in use this season, for the place was deserted except for a man who was shearing a dog in an empty shed. He was sitting on the ground hold ing on his knees a King Charles spaniel, whose sleek body he was clipping close, leaving only the lion like ruff of neck and tail. The dog, grateful to be rid of his heavy coat this hot day, lay patiently on his back. “I’ll be darned!" muttered Warren looking around the deserted landing. “I know those boats used to start from here.” "But it’s been seven years since you were in Paris,” protested Helen. “You can’t expect to find everything just the same! Do ask that man where the right landing is—I CAN'T walk much farther!” “Well, if it’s along here w’e’ll find it,” obstinately ignoring her sugges tion. “There, I see it now! Isn’t that a boat just pulling in?” Helen Inquires. Helen’s heart sank, for the landing Warren pointed to was back beyond the bridge. And it might not be the right one! Detei ilnedly she ap proached the man with the dog. If Warren would not ask, she wouli Not knowing the French for “boat landing.*’ she repeated “St. Cloud. St. Cloud?” and pointed to the landing beyond. “Oui, ou1, madame. nodded the man, understanding^, while the dog, in spite of his inverted position, waffled a friendly tail. Warren was already striding baric up the stone steps. “Hope you’re satisfied. 1 * he grumbled, as Hel *u breathlessly caught up with him. 'That’s the St. Cloud boat there now. -t you hurry we’ll get it." Helen, her shoes hurting her at iverv step, kept up with Warren’ 5 long strides as best "^e could. As they drew* near they could see “St. Cloud” ffuttering on a red flag over the boat. “May have to wait another hour If we don’t catch this!” called back Warren, running ahead to get the tickets. The boat gave a warning whistle A man was loosening the chain. Wore they going to miss it after all? War ren had the tickets now* and was waving them at her! Helen, flushed and breathless, reached the boat only a second before It moved off. “Whee! That was close,” and War ren wiped the inside of his hat with his handkerchief. “Pretty good sprint for a hot day.” “Oh, can’t you find me a place to sit down?" panted Helen. “My feet hurt so!** “Don’t see any place, do you?” look ing around the crowded boat, on which every seat was taken. “What’s the matter with your feet, anyway? You’ve been hobbling ever since we started.” “It’s these shoes I bought yester day. They’re plenty big,“ defiantly, “but they’re too stiff. They hurt in the back at the heel.” “Humph, you ought to know you couldn’t get a decent shoe in this country. Why on earth didn’t you bring enough with you?” “I did, dear, all except w'hite ones.” “Well, serves you right. They ought to hurt you. if you haven’t more sense than to start out on a trip like this with a new pair of shoes.” Paris had been hot, but the Seine was hotter. The sun glittered on the water that was not even rippled by a breath of air. The iron rail, against which Helen w*as leaning, almost burnt through her gloves. Would she have to stand on her aching feet In this blazing sun all the wuy to St. Cloud? Warren Compares. “They talk so blamed much about the beauty of the Seine—well I don’t see It! Can’t hold a candle to our Palisades along the Hudson.” “None too clean, either,” went on Warren. “Hope they don’t drink this water. But that’s so—Frenchmen don’t drink any water. There’s a seat, if you want one," as a man rose to get out at the next landing. Helen sank into the seat, and with a sigh of relief drew* off her slipper under her dress. Warren did not trouble to come and stand by her, but stood where he was, leaning on his cane by the railing. As they left the outskirts of Paris, the river grew cleaner and the scen ery more attractive. But Hei°n was too hot and much too uncomforta ble to enjoy or appreciate the sail. At last they reached St. Cloud. On the hillside above was a big white hotel, with fluttering flags and whlte- clothed tables on the green hedged veranda and terrace. “Well, what do you want to do? Walk around and take a look at the village—or get a cab here and driv<* through the park first?” Helen, whose feet still hurt her, suggested the drive. Several cabmen, spotting the Amer icans, were already urging them to their vehicles. Warren put Helen into one of the cabs and told the driver to take them through the park “What’s that?” as the man began to chatter excitedly. “What in the devil's he trying to say?” F”or War ren’s restaurant French was not equal to this conversation. The driver finally made them un derstand they w r ere to pay in advance —two francs, for which he presented them with a ticket, which Helen thought ton a sort of receipt. “Why, dear, that’s awfully cheap," as they drove off. “Oh, all cabs are much cheaper over here,” explained Warren easily. They entered the park by a massive gateway, sentinelled by a uniformed soldier. Helen had read in her Bae deker of the beauty of the park at St. Cloud, but the terraced groves, the statuary, the fountains, the vistas through arched trees, the cascades and grottoes surpassed any guide book description. Pay In Advance. "I say, this is great!” approved Warren. “Look through there! The fellow who laid out these grounds knew his job.” Thed river now slowed up, to give them a better view of a magnificent fountain at the top of a terraced mound. “Dear, that must be the fountain which plays every other Sunday. Why didn’t I bring the Baedeker?” “Oh, forget your blamed old guide book and enjoy what you vee. ^By Jove, just look up there!” In the distance was another foun- i tain center with marble nymphs and ' flaming flower beds. Helen, with her , slipper off. now leaned back find gave i herself up to silent enjoyment of it all —the cool shaded groves, the smell of I the woods, and the wonderful vistas | through the tre^s. The whole park was a triumph of landscape art. Every now and then they passed a festive picnic party with lunch spread In some secluded grove. And there were many courts of lawn- tennis and other field games, the white outing costumes of the players gleaming conspicuously against the green background. “Well, we’re getting our tw*o franc*’ worth in this drive, all right. This | man’s got a pretty big tip coming to | him.” When they had driven entirely l around the great park, they again | drew up before the impressive iron gate, which the soldier swung open. "We don’t want to go back to the | station yet. Let’s get out of here and ! go up to the hotel and have a drink. How about having dinner there?” and Warren motioned to the driver to let them out. “Eh? What's that? Now what’s he after?” as the driver stared at his tip, climbed down from his seat, and excitedly pointed to a. taximeter in front, which they had not seen before. “Well, what in thunder did we nay that two francs for?” demanded War ren, glaring at the taximeter which registered over seven francs. “If you think you’ve got a sucker here, you’re wrong. You made us pav in advance, and that’s all you’ll get?” Here the soldier at the gate, over hearing the dispute, came out and explained to Warren, in halting Eng lish. that the two francs was the ad mission charged by the park, and that the taximeter charges was for the drive. Explanations. “Oh. if that’s the way of It. all right,” as Warren paid the *#'en francs, fifty. "But why in the devil didn't he say so?” “Why, that’s exorbitant,” protest ed Helen indignantly, as they started up the hill to the hotel. “That make.* I the drive almost ten francs.” “If that’s their regular rat©—that’s | all right. All I want to know’ is that | T’m not being held up. Now what? j Want to go to the hotel for dinner i now'? Or take a walk around the village first?” “I’m afraid I can’t walk very far,” I faltered Helen. “By George, you’re a fine traveler. I you are.” in a tone of disgust. “Not much Pleasure going anywhere with you. You’re either too tired, or too hot, or your feet hurt—or some blamed thing’s the matter. Come on then, we’ll have dinner. Think you can sit up and take nourishment?” There’s Many a Slip. Smithson had been really a pow'er in his day. At any rate, he had held a job bringing him in some thou sands a year—that is to say, until the smash came. After that he failed to hold any job he got. and became permanently out of luck. His old friend Jenkins was a bit surprised, therefore, when Smithson stopped him in the street one day and angrily exclaimed: “D’you know, I’ve just received the prize insult of my life! A chap down in the city offered me a Job this morning! ” "Offered you a Job?” replied Jen kins. “Y’ou call that an Insult? I thought you were looking for a job!” “Yes, but not at ten dollars a week. Hang it all, I can borrow more than that from you!” The Mistakes of Jennie b y hal cqffman Being a Series of Chapters in the Life of a Southern Girl in the Big City ‘‘Cheer up little girl.” CHAPTER XXIII. A FTER the scene In the office, when Jennie’s new employer tried to kiss her. Jennie real ized If she demanded her salary—so she could leave—he would not pay her, so she resolved to work the week out if possible and lie on her guard in the meantime against any outbursts on his part. The man saw there was nothing to be gained by forcing his attentions on Jennie, so thought he would play a “waiting game" and be as nice as possible. He apologized profusely, saying If he had not been drinking it wouldn’t have happened, but that Jennie was so pretty he just couldn’t help It Jen nie was determined to leave at the end of the week, though, for she could see he was only wait ing a more faverable chance. When Jennie got home that night she found her aunt, the hoarding-house keeper, very ill—so stek, In fact, that they had to get a doctor. “Goodness only knows where we can get the money to pay him,” thought Jennie. , The only thing the doctor could prescribe was a good rest, change of scene and good, wholesome food. Quite simple to prescribe, but how could Jennie's aunt have these things when they hnd barely enough to live on as it was? After the doctor had gone Jennie’s aunt called her to the bedside and told her: “I know what is the matter with me, Jennie girl; It was useless for you to have called the doctor, for he could not help me and It was just an added expense that we can not afford. I’ve had these spells for years, but never one before as bad as this—but cheer up, my little girl, every thing will be all right and I’ll be out of bed soon." But In her heart she KNEW she never would. —UAL COFFMAX. (To Be Continued.) Snap- at ** Shots No Cause for Fear. “That circus man does not seem to be in the least bit afraid of the effects of a spree.” “Why should he be? Didn’t he marry the snake charmer?” Why He Worried. Morton—Hello, Jones. Why tl troubled look? Jones—I'm afraid I’ll be making i much money next year I’ll have to pa an income tax. T HE common problem—yours, mine, every one’s— Is not to fancy what were fair In life. Provided it could be; but finding fir?n What may be, then how to make it fair— Up to our means—a very different thing. —ROBERT BROWNING. • • • Beware of desperate steps. The dark est day, Live till to-morrow, will have passed away. —SELECTED. • • • There is a pity in forgotten things, Banished the heart they can no longer fill, Since restless Fancy spreading swal low wings Must seek new pleasures still! * • * There is a patience, too. in things forgot; They wait—they And the portal long unused. And, knocking there, it shall refuse them not. Nor aught nor aught shall be re fused. —EDITH M. THOMAS. life Is a play in which we do not choose our parts. They are chosen for us bv the author of the play. But we do decide whether we will play them well or ill. —OVID. INDIGESTION? Stop it quickly; Have your grooer «en<J you one do*, bottles of SHIVA R GINGER ALE Drink with meals, and if not prompt ly relieved, get your money back at our expense. Wholesome. deli cious. refreshing. Prepared with the celebrated Shlvar Mineral Water and the purest flavoring materials. SHIVAR SPRING, Manufacturers SHELTON, 8. C. £. L. ADAMS CO., Distributor*. Atlanta. TATESPRING UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT A high, cool, healthful resort, in the heart of the Cumberland Mountains of East Tennessee, an unexcelled climate. Modem hotel—one thousand acre park and grounds—eighteen hole golf course—saddle horses—fine five-piece orchestra for ooncerts and dancing and that most famous of sll American Mineral Waters, TATE SPRING NATURAL MINERAL WATER always a help, nearly always a cure In Indigestion, nervousness and all ailments attributable to Im proper functions of the bowels, liver and kidneys. Rev. Or. E. E. Hoss, Bishop Methodist Church, Nashvttls, Tonn., says: "It gives me the greatest pleasure to Bay that I regard Tate Spring water as the beat remedy for all disorders of the stomach, bowels, liver and kidneys of which I have knowledge.” Enjoy the healthful water at the spring or have It shipped to your home. For sale by all druggist* In sterilized bottles, filled and sealed at the spring. Send postal to-dny for Illustrated booklet, giving rates, location and description of this Ideal place for the summer outing. Address TATE SPRING HOTEL CO. S. B. ALLEN, MANAGING DIRECTOR, TATE SPRi NG, TENN. ATLANTA MINERAL WATER CO., LOCAL DISTRIBUTORS THE STATE NORMAL SCHOOL, ATHENS, GA. Named by a United States Commissioner of Education as being among the best fitted State Normal School* In the United States. Fifty six officers and teachers, ten building*, eighteen departments of Instruction, full certifi cate courses In Psychology, Pedagogy, English, Expression. Oratory, Mathe matics, Science, History, Latin. German, ureek, French, Spanish, Correspond- The Home-Life courses are among the strongest in the South. Dome*’ tic Arts and Sciences. Manual Art*. Agriculture, Gardening, Home NLosing. Physical Culture, Vocal and Instrumental Music, Sight Singing. Diploma a license to teach. Two Practice Schools. Education for fitness and happi ness in the home Total expenses for a year less than $160.00. write Catalogue. JERE M. POUND. President. =K iJfiSBESt A TYPEWRITER COSTS OVER S3000.00 a S a business roan you know that the price you pay for a typewriter is a negligible sum, A compared with what it really costs. If you pay your operator fifty dollars per month and she runs the machine five years, the operating cost is $3,000.00. This, plus what you paid for the machine, represents your investment. The vital question is, ‘‘What do I get for that $3,000,001” On the L. C. Smith & Bros. Typewriter you get ten to twenty per cent more work than ou any other typewriter made. The original cost of the machine, therefore, fades into nothingness. We can prove that our typewriter will do more and better work and do it longer than any other typewriter. Our branch office In Atlanta Is always at your service and we will demonstrate our machine In your office, with out cost »r obligation to you. Our free employment department furnishes office help without expense to either party. L. C. SMITH & BROS. TYPEWRITER CO. Home Office and Factory at Syracuse, N. Y. 121 N. Pryor Street, ATLANTA, GA. Phone Ivy 1949