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NIL. The Manicure Lady By WILLIAM F. KIRK ^ GUESS there ain’t many real I 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 wives, George, that thinks when she hears about Julius Caesar that her husband would have had Julius’ jo) if he had beer, living then. “But they was the only tw r o regulai 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 the^ was grown-up men. After the two chaps had went for their third swim that day, the old gals began telling what divine waltzers the kids was, and how- one of them was very witjty. ‘‘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 surnrised.’ 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 Romans, 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 be 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 thera happened to 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 ‘I>ook at Mr. Doo- nan and Mr. McSherry!’ and another says, ‘Yes, there they go!’ I suppose when 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 so 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 cpmes the cir cus parade!’ “This is too hot a day to do much demoralising, 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 flour your board and rolling-pin and roll the suet oqt to a thin sheet. Take betw-een your hands and rub down, when you will And the suet as line 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 tw r lne, 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 pudding 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 is a good way to clean them when this occurs: Tie a lump of beeswax in a piece of rag, and w-hen 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 Cemplexions [TS EFFECT la mu ; velous upon a dark or sallow skin. You cannot realize what it will do until you have used it. Guaranteed pure and harmless. Postpaid^ 5C Anywhere All Jacobs’ Stores And Druggists Generally. SURE! ONE GOOD TURN DESERVES ANOTHER Their Married Life By MABEL HERBERT URNER. 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 M CHAPTER XIV. 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 haJf 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 us, as his train is just in. So try to be ready when he comes.” She kissed Mary as she had done each morning since 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 w-hen 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. t , After a few- minutes rhat 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 a grownup lady when I sec 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 exercise 3 At 8 o’clock she and the rest of her class look their places in the great school auditorium, which was already crowded. Mary looked vain ly among the sea of fqces for the three persons who made her smai* world. Of course, her parents were here, she mused, although 9he 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 hand 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 w-hen 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 1 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 had news for you,” said her teacher simply. “You must go right home to your mother. She has sent for you. Your father” She paused, and the girl clasped her hands in an agony of fear. “Oh, w-hat is it?” she gasped. “Tell me quickly! Is he hurt, or ill, or’’— Her voice failed her suddenly, for Gordon Craig stood beside her. S^.e 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-ont to belittle woman’s ability to enter the 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! Name 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. HAT must be the landing dowm 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.” ”1 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 w-as 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 s|one steps led down to what Warren thought was the boat landing. But evidently U 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, w-hose 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, 1f it’s along here we'll And It,” obstinately ignoring her sugges tion. “There, T 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 ilnedlv she ap proached the man with the dog. If Warren w-ould not ask. she would Not know-ing the French for “boat landing.” she repeated “St. Cloud. St. Cloud?” and pointed to the landing beyond. “Oui, out, madame. nodded tho man, understanding!*', while the dog, in spite of his inverted position, wagged a friendly tail. Warren w-as already striding back up the stone steps. “Hope you’re satisfied,” he grumbled, as HeK-n breathlessly caught up with him. •That‘s the St. Cloud boat there now. ■f you hurry we’ll get it.” Helen, her shoes hurting her at ♦very step, kept up with Warren** long strides as best -he could. As thev drew near they could see “St. Cloud” ffuttertng 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. Were they going to miss it after all? War ren had the tickets now' and was w'aving them at her! Helen, flushed and breathless, reached the boat only a second before It moved off. "Wheel That was close,” and War ren wiped the inside of his hat wifch his handkerchief. “Pretty good sprint for a hot day.” “Oh, can’t you And me a place to sit dowm?” panted Helen. “My feet hurt so!” “Don’t see any place, do you?” look ing around the crowded boat, on w’hich 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 w'ater that was not even rippled by a breath of air. The iron rail, against which Helen was leaning, almost burnt through her gloves. Would she have to stand on her aching feet in this blazing sun all the way 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. ,v “None too clean, either,” went on Warren. “Hope they don’t drink thifc water. But that’s so—Frenchmen don’t drink any w-ater. There’s a seat, if you want one,” as a man rose to get out at the next landing. lielen 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 Helen 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 white- 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 drive 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 uf 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?” For War ren’s restaurant French was not equal to this conversation. The driver finally made them un derstand they were to pay in advance —two francs, for which he presented them with a ticket, which Helen thought was a sort of receipt. “Why, dear, that’s awfully cheap.” as t^ey drove off. “Oh, all cab* 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’ fdow*ed 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 see. 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 and gave | herself up to silent enjoyment of it all —the cool shaded groves, the smell of the woods, and the wonderful vistas | through the tre^s. The whole park I wa« a triumph of landscape art. Every now' and then they passed a i festive picnic party with lunch spread in some secluded grove. And there w'ere many courts of lawn- teunis and other field games, the w-hlte outing costumes of the players gleaming conspicuously against the green background. “Well, we’re getting our two francs’ worth in this drive, all right. Tills man’s got a pretty big tip coming to him.” When they had driven entirely around the great park, thev again drew up before the impressive iron gate, which the soldier swung open. “We don’t w-ant 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, j and excitedly pointed to a taximeter : in front, which they had not seen i befrra. “Well, what in thunder did w-e nay that two francs for?” demanded War ren, glaring at the taximeter which ■ registered over seven francs. “Tf you think you’ve got a sucker here, you’re ! wrong. You made us pay in advance, I 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 hy the park, and that the taximeter charges was for the drive. j Explanations. “Oh. If that’s the way of It, all right,” as Warren paid the Seven 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 makes the drive almost ten francs.” “If that’s their regular rate—that’s nil right. All I want to know is that I’m not being held up. Now what? Want to go to the hotel for dinner now? Or take a walk around the village first?” “I’m afraid I can’t walk very far,” faltered Helen. “By George, you’re a fine traveler, you are.” in a tone of disgust. “Not much Measure going anywhere with you. You’re either too tired, or too hot, or your feet hurt—or some blamed thing’s the matter. Pome on then, we’ll have dinner. Think you can sit up and take nourishment?” There’s Many a Slip. Smithson had been really a power in ills 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 w r as 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- -ii'is. “Y’ou call that an insult? I thought you were looking for a job!” “Yes, but not at ten dollars a w'eek. Hang it all, I can borrow more than that from you!” The Mistakes of Jennie By hal coffman 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 weue in the office, when Jennie’s new employer tried to kiss her. Jennie real ised if she demanded her salary—so she eouhl leave—he would not pay her, so she resolved to work the week out tf iHissihle ami lx- on her guard in the meantime against any outbursts on his part. The man saw there was nothing to lie gained hy forcing his attentions on Jennie, so thought he would play a "waiting game” and be as nice us possible. He apologized profusely, saying if he had not been drinking it wouldn’t have happened, hut that Jennie was so pretty he just couldn’t help it. Jen nie was determined to leave at t lie end of the week, though, for she could see he was only wait ing a more favorable chance. When Jennie got home that night she found her aunt, the boarding-house keeper, very 111—so sick, in fact, that they had to get a doctor. “Goodness only knows where we can gel the money to pay him,” thought Jennie. The only thing the doctor could proscribe was a good rest, change of scene and good, wholesome food. Quite simple to prescribe, but bow could Jennie's aunt have these tilings when they had barely enough to live on us It was? After the doctor had gone Jennie’s aunt called her to the liedstde and told her: "1 know what Is the matter with me, Jennie girl; it was useless for you to have called the doctor, for ho 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 aa laid 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. —HAL COFFMAN. (To Be Continued.) Snap- dts Shots 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*^ 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 find 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 by the author of the play. But we do decide whether we will play them well or ill. —OVID. 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 the troubled look? Jones—I’m afraid I’ll be making so much money next year I’U have to pay an income tax. THE STATE NORMAL SCHOOL, ATHENS, GA. Named by a United State* Commissioner of Education as being among the beet fitted State Normal BohooU In the United Stales. Fifty six officers and teachers, ten buildings, eighteen departments of Instruction, full certlfl- cate courses in Psychology, Pedagogy, English, Expression, Oratory, Maths- niallcs, Science. History, I-atln, German, Greek, French, Spanish, Correspond- enC *The Home-Life oourses are among the strongest In the South Dome*- tb Arts and Sciences, Manual Arts, Agriculture, Gardening Home Nursing, Fnynlcal Culture, Vocal and Instrumental Music, 8lght Singing Diploma license to teach. Two Practice Schools. Education for fitness^ and ness In the home. Total expenses for a year less than JERE M. PC Catalogue. happl- .. $159.00 Writ# for ^OUND. President. INDIGESTION? Stop it quickly; Have your grocer send you one doz. bottle* 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 Rhlvar Mineral Water and the purest flavoring materials. SHIVAR SPRING, Manufacturers SHELTON, S. C. £. L. ADAMS CO., Distributors. Atlanta, TATE SPRING UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT A high, cool, healthful resort, in the heart of the Cumberland Mountains of East Tennessee, an unexcelled climate. Modern hotel—one thousand acre park and grounds—eighteen hole golf course—saddle horses—fine five-piece orchestra for concerts and dancing and that most famous of all American Mineral Waters, TATE SPRING NATURAL MINERAL WATER always a help, nearly always a cure in indigestion, nervousness and ail ailments attributable to Im proper functions of the bowels, liver and kidneys. Rev. Dr. E. E. Hoss, Bishop Methodist Church, NaahvlNe, Term., says: “It gives me the greateet pleasure to say that I regard Tate Spring water as the best 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 ahipped to your home. For sale by all druggist^ in sterilised bottles, filled and sealed at the spring. Send postal to-day 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. A TYPEWRITER COSTS OVER $3000.00 x S a busriness man you know that the price you \ pay for a typewriter is a negligible sum, •* 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 on 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 or 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