Atlanta Georgian. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1912-1939, August 06, 1913, Image 8

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] ' V 4 " ii if Jilt Their Married Life By MABEL HERBERT URNER. “W J ITH no prices on the menu!" repeated Helen In amaze* ment "Then they can charge us anything they pleane?” "That’s the idea. Most of the smart places in Paris never price their food They're supposed to cater to people who are concerned only with the qual ity of the dishes not with the price.’’ “But, Warren. WE don’t want to go to such a place! I’d he so worried about what the check was going to he I couldn’t eat a thing " "Well we’re going to one right now for dinner—Cafe L)’Armenonville. One of th» show places in tho Bols. You’ll see more smart Parisians there than you’ve seen yet. While we're over here we’re go Jng to do Paris. What difference does a few dollars make one way or the other?" “But, dear. I’m not dressed for a pre tentious place." "Wall, put on something light then anything will do. They don’t expect Americans to dress much. They think we all come from a sort of wild and woolly West. All they want is our money.” "Well, I don’t think we’ve got so much," laughed Helen. "Not enough to go to a place where they don’t price their food.” "Guess w© can stand It for once. Hur ry up— it’s almost 7.” A little later they left the hotel. Out side Warren raised his cane at a pass ing taxi. Warren Determined. "Of course we’ve got to have a cab,” Impatiently, as Helen made her usual protest. "It’s the only way you can get to that place. Now, you leave this to me We’re going to ArmenonvillCs to-night, and we’re going to do the thing right. Hang the expense!” When Warren started out In tills spir it Helen knew It was useless to try to curb him. He was in the mood to spend money and he was going to spend it. She leaned back in the cab with a sigh of resignation. But as this was Helen’s first drive through the Champs Elysee^s, she soon forgot everything else in the beauty of •the scene. Under the trees, along the drive, were chairs and tables, mostly deserted now But from the gay gowns of the few peo ple who Still lingered Helen could Im agine what it must have been an hour earlier. "I’ll not have the time, hut you ought to come out to the Bois some afternoon for tea," suggested Warren "Nothing like it in the world There s Armenon- vtlle’s through there,” pointing to aj mass of brilliant lights glimmering through a grove of trees Cabs, taxies and victoria* were lined up three and four abreast In the wide graveled driveways before this famous restaurant. "But we’re not going to keep this taxi?" asked Helen anxiously, as they waited their turn to draw up before the entrance. "That’s just what we’re going to do," snapped Warren ”We’ll not take any chances of getting one when we’re through.” To order dinner from an unpriced ! menu, and to feel that a taxi was in dustriously ticking up the francs—the evening he’d little prospect of pleasure for Helen. Warren led the way through the spa cious hallway to the garden beyond. The place was like fairyland, with banks of red geraniums, a gleaming fountain, and ropes of colored lights festooned through trees and shrubbery. There must have been a hundred or more tables on the lawn, yet all were taken, and a group of people were waiting. "You stay here " Warren strode off determinedly after a headwalter. Helen’s gaze followed him anxiously. | LIFE’S STRUGGLE" WITH ILLNESS The Brighter Side of Turkey Trotting An Expert's Advice of How This Famous Dance Can Be Purged of All Objectionable Features. Miss Stewart Tells How She Suffered from 16 to 45 years old—How Finally Cured. EVPHEMIA, OHIO.—"Because of total ignorance of how to care for myself when verging Into woman hood, and from taking cold when go ing to school, 1 suffered from a dis placement. and each month 1 had se vere pains and nausea which always meant a lay-off from work for two to four days from the time 1 was 16 years old. ”1 went to Kansas to live with m.v sister, and while there a doctor toll me of the Pinkham remedies but I did not use them then as my faith in patent medicine was limited. After my sister died 1 came home to Ohio to live and that has been my home for the last IS years. "The Change of Life came when I was 47 years old, and about this tim ■ I saw my physical condition plainly described in one of your advertise ments. Then I began using Lydia K. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound, and 1 can not tell you or any one the relief it gave nn in the first three months. It put me right where 1 need not lay off every month, an I during the last 18 years I have n >t paid out two dollars to a doctor, and have been blessed with excellent health for a woman of mv age. and I can thank Lydia H. Pinkham’s Vege table Compound for it. “Since the Change of Life is ov I have been a maternity nurse, an - being wholly self-supporting 1 can not overestimate the value of good health. I have now earned a com fortable little Lome jus* by s, wiivr and nursing since I was T»2 years • i. I have recomm* tided the Compound ;o many with good results, as it is • <- cellent to take before and after child birth.”—Miss Evelyn Adelta Stewart, Euphemia, Ohio. If you want special advice write to Lvdia E. Pinkham Medicine Co. (confidential), L nn. Mass. Your let - viii be opened, read and an- ^ off by a woman and held ir. strict dfcn She saw him slip some money Into the hand of the suave Frenchman, and a moment later they were being seated at on® of tho few tallies that had been "reserved." "Warren, I thought you didn’t believe in bribing head waiters?” "Well, you've got to do It here. This is a show place. I tell you, and you've got to come across We'd have stood there all night without a tuble if I hadn't forked up” Helen’s first concern was In the menu a large card with a fantastically dec orated border of lobsters and crabs. She had hoped all ubsig that Warren was wrong and that the prices would lie given, but there was not a single figure. This bill of fare was to show only what you could gut not what you would have to pay for it. “Oh, dear, just order one or two things! I’m not very hungry and you I had luncheon, didn’t you?” But Warren only glowered at her. and I »rave his order to the waiter by check ing off with his pencil some of the j dishes with the longest and, as Helen ■ thought, most expensive looking French names. "Now. see here,” when the waiter had | gone, "this isn’t so bad as you think The theory of this Is that they charge I In proportion to what you order. For i instance. If you only have a roast and a I salad, you pay more proportionately for | those two dishes than you would If you had four or five That's fair enough." "Well, if that’s their method, then why don't they put down the prices and deduct a certain percentage when you order a number of things? Wouldn’t that be a good idea for any restaurant? Think how much more people would order If they felt they were getting a discount,” "Huh! Sort of on the principle of five cents apiece, six for a quarter!" grinned Warren. "But don’t you see people WOULD order more,” insisted Helen, growing en- i thualastle over her idea. "I'm sure any j of the big New York restaurant* would coin money on that plan." "Better try to sell ’em the Idea when : you get back,” scoffed Warren. "They I might pay you something for it.” "Well, they might!” defiantly. Just then a striking beauty, in a clinging white gown and a drooping leghorn hat with red popples, swept by, leuvlng a frail of perfume. "Hear, some of tho gowns ARE beau tiful,” mused Helen, now giving hersell I no to a study of the »lace. A Pretty Girl. “Not a bad-looking girl over there In ' yellow," commented Warren. "I was just going to speak of her— that’s the most WONDERFUL gown!” i The girl was dark and slender, with ; heavy brown hair drawn low Into a sim- i pie coil on her neck. Her dress was of pale yellow chiffon, with brown fringe; I her hat of the same chiffon was wreathed with yellow-petalcd, brown- eyed daisies, and the streamers of I brown velvet ribbon were knotted un- ! tier her chin. Most of the hats had either ties or streamers, with the trimming placed at some daring angle. While they must have looked very extreme In the shop windows, they were charming on the women who wore them. “After all, the Erench women DO know how to wear their clothes.” “The ones you see here ought to,” was Warren’s comment. “That’s about their only job.” "Dear, I haven’t any idea what I'm eating." Helen exclaimed suddenly. "Weil, it’s good, isn’t it? That’s sweetbread with truflles and wine sauce, en casserole one of their specialties here. Only place in Paris you can get It like this.” But to Helen the food was always secondary to the atmosphere of the place and the people. And now she ab sent-mindedly ute her dinner, intent upon the scene about her. “A woman never has any palate,” grumbled Warren. "This dish is a work of art. There’s a smoothness and fla vor to this sauce that you wouldn't get anywhero else In the world. Hut you don't appreciate It! A dinner like this is wasted on any woman." "Why, dear, that isn’t fair," indig nantly. "1 think it's delicious, and I’m eating every bit of it.” A Treat. "Oh, you’re eating it, but might as well be eating corned beef hash in a dairy lunch room. I tell you this Is a [treat! No wonder the chef who made I that sauce didn't want a price put on it J You can’t price a thing like that any more than you can price a rare picture,” enthused Warren, growing eloquent un der the influence of the vintage wine. Even Helen forgot her dread of the rheck and became enthusiastic when the waiter served- the fruits au cham pagne It was a tall glass dish of cut fruit, wonderful strawberries, cherries, pineapples and peaches floating in an 1 iced syrup of blended wines and cor- i dials. When later the check was brought face down on a plate, instinctively Hel en leaned forward to see the total. But Warren took It up quickly, glanced over the items, drew a crisp note from his j wallet and laid It over the check. Helen was not familiar enough, with French ! money to know the amount of the note, i nor could she tell by the change re- ! turned. "Dear, how much was that check?” j unable to keep back the question. “Well. I’ve paid it. haven’t I? And it was u blamed good dinner Now we ll I have no harangues over expenses this evening. Come on let’s see if we can • find that cab." ! The cab! Helen had wholly forgotten that the cab was waiting and they had been there almost three hours! Warren located their driver and In a few moments they were whirling back through the Champs Elyseea, now more l>e&utiful than ever with the lights gleaming through the dark trees, and j with every new and then a glimpse of J tlie Seine and its jeweled bridges. But the charm of all this was lost on !! ,J !er She was not leaning back and j enjoying the beauty of the drive. In- | stead she w*»" sitting bolt upright, j every muscle strained, as she tensely tried to lignre out how much that din- j ner aud i(ie three hours’ wait of tho ' cab must %&ve cost. Advice to the Lovelorn One Woman’s Story By VIRGINIA TERHUNE VAN DE WATER (Top picture) “This is a dance where shoulders count.” (Bottom picture) “There should be a foot of space between partners.” By LILIAN LAUFERTY. rpHE new school of turkey trot- j ting has brought into existence two groups of rabid partisans— those who do the dance and know how jolly is the dancing, and those who look on and see how shocking is the prancing. And meanwhile turkey trotting is so earnestly done that it seems in a fair way to be done to death—and a fallow field for humor ists will thus become sterile and bar ren of little Jokes like the famous, “She is more trotted against than trotting.” In our age of specialization, tur key trotting is not sufficiently spe cialized, and every little freak step that wriggles its way into life mas querades under the one name or that of some barnyard or menagerie rela tive. There is a brighter side to turkey trotting; there is a possibility of having it become a dance as well regulated as the two-step, and yet free to express the true dancing jov- of-llving of the partners who merrily whirl through its mazes. For confirmation of this theory, while in New York 1 went to Leon Eyrol, the clever originator of “turk- Ish trottishness,” one of the features of the Ziegfeld "Follies of 1013.” and with clever Stella Chatelaine, the partner of dances and of life to help him, Mr. Errol showed me how you j should and how you shouldn’t do tho * "trot.” Correct Position. "Here is the correct position for learning the trot.” said Mr Erroll, il lustrating the while. "The girl place* her hands on the shoulders of he.* i partner. The man places one hand under ihe elbow of his partner and j his bent elbow under her other arm. In this position ever sway of a part ner who knows the dance throws th*» shoulders of the other partner into the proper swing: not a wriggle or a ‘''•-•-live movement, but the jmvj»v- in~ to music that is the natural ex pression used in all dances that are a rt il . xpregslon of Joy set to music In stead of conventional ballroom steos. "If you want to see the art of danc ing. naturally you go to see Qenee, and > »u enjoy without any thought of spending years In trying to master the art of dancing as she has done. "But when you go to see the mod ern. up-to-date dancing of the stag' you have a weather eye on learning ic do It. too—and springing a new step at the next cabaret you favor. Here are three things to remember about stage dancing—it consists of tempo, a trick step and a bit >f acting to catch the eve. In comedy dancing like mine, the tempo is very quick — whirlingly rapid without a break m its movements, that fMrly pile up in top of one another. Then there is the trick step worked out to be as differ ent as possible, and flnn^v the oomi.'’ element to make It ro with the audi ence. Allow For Freedom. ’ The amateur turkey trotter must copy the first two parts of stage tur- kev trotting, and avoid the acting like grim death. "Don’t play to the gallery—don’t do an exaggerated step and fairly revel in the idea that the people are looking at you in admiring wonder. They are probably wondering all right—how you can be so vulgar or wo foolish. “Take a refined position that leaves at least a foot of space between the partners and allow for freedom of motion. Holding your partner too closely not only makes the dance sug gestive. and gives too much chance to the critical enemies of turkey trotting to get In their work, but makes it Impossible for the amateur to dance with the graceful free sway that .9 the chief beauty of turkey trotting. “Then with a clear picture In your mind of what you want to do, work out a i'tep. Sometimes Miss Chate laine and I see little children dancing to an organ grinder’s tunes on the streets—that suggests a step—and we may spend as much as two houry in working out the one step. “Turkey trotting demands a free yet firm position that lets the part ners work together; an absolute feel ing for time, and abilltv to follow the music without a break; the utmost patience in working out a step, and ability and Imagination to work out little trick steps that w’ill add to the mere sway that is the basis of all tur key trotting and allied dances*. "We must always keep in mind that this is a dance in which shoulders count. In the now sedate waltz, the position of arm-around-waist used to be considered rather risque—well, you don’t have to assume that position if you are going to trot correctly. The position I suggest—girl’s arms on man’s shoulders, and man’s arms used as levers under girl’s elbows, is staid, respectable and guaranteed to pro duce graceful rhythmical trotting. "As in other departments of life, and dancing.” concluded Mr. Errol, “there \v a right way and there is a wrong way. But the right way to turkey trot is pleasing to observe an 1 pleasing to do. If the amateur will assume the position 1 teach and prac tice one step at a time patiently and In faithful effort to keep in perfect rhythm with the music, he will soon find himself able to do a modern dance without a shade of vulgarity and without a trace of amateurish ill- at-easeness.” Little Bobbie’s Pa By WILLIAM F. KIRK. \ Y TE got a other new white hired y y gurl, her naim Is Vera. Ma sed it is a pritty naim, but I think It Is a funny naim for a hired gurl. Hired gurls used to be called Bridget * Nor.i & thay was good hired guris. too. But things is different now. The last three hired gurls we had was Marguerite & Sylvia & Belladonna, &. now we have Vera. She is vary pritty. Pa sed she had dreemy eyes & Ma Fed it was from sleeping too found that her eyes was dreemy. Vera is riteing a play. She wuddent tell Pa & Ma that she was riteing it, but she toald me so 1 promised her that 1 wuddent say a word to Pa & Ma. The naim of the play is Alone in MilledgeviUe, & it telis about a butiful young gurl that fell In luv with a keeper in the MilledgeviUe in sane asilum. He was a vilyun. The gurl goes to MilledgeviUe to see him beekaus he had toald her that he owned a grate big estate. He took the I gurl to the asilum A- toald her that j all the insane peepul thare was his servants. She beleeved him at first | and then the horribel truth dawned on her. Then she s«ed in poetry to the vilyun: Vof* hove me at pure merry here Of that thare ain't no doubt; I think I shall go bughouse, deer, If you don't git me out. I'd rather be a peasant's bride t(- housekeep in a hut Than iced a (hump in this here dump t( get to be a nut. Then Vera toald me that finished the first act. The curtain goes down wen she is reading them lines to the By BEATRICE FAIRFAX. NOT WORTH YOUR WORRY. Dear Miss Fairfax: 1 am 18 and recently met a young man about the same age. He made quite an impression upon me and have met by ap pointment a few times. Last week I happened to misunder stand a date the young man made in his letter and disappointed him. Now he is angry, and although I tiled to exrdaln the matter to him. he will not believe my ex cuse. I am quite heartbroken over it. RAY. Your humble attitude doesn’t do you credit/ You did no wrong and owed neither apology nor explanation. Please, for your own sake, let the matter end here, and if he attempts to see you, refu*"' THERE COULD BE NO OBJEC TION. Dear Miss Fairfax: I am 16, and have a friend two years my senior. His birthday is quite near and I would like to know if it is proper for me to send him a birthday card, so as to let him know l think of him. ANXIOUS. A cordial little note, wishing him many happy returns, will prove your friendship. You are so young: will you promise me to regard no man as more than a friend for a few years longer? CERTAIN i_Y NOT. Dear Miss Fairfax: I am deeply in love with a young man 21 years old. I meet him often and he gives me hints that he loves me. but he also tells me he hasn’t courage to propose. Now please tell me how’ I should act. Should I tell him that I love him or not? HILDA. The girl worth having Is worth ask ing for. Tell him so the next time he hints. Also hint -that there are other men not quite so slow. But save your avowal of love until he has earned It. THE DIFFERENCE IMMATERIAL. Dear Miss Fairfax: I am in love with a girl four years my senior, which difference in our ages seems to stand be tween us. I have tried in every was possible to convince her of my love, but so far have not suc ceeded. I do not believe I can ever be happy without her. ' E. You do not state your age. If you are old enough to marry, her four years seniority should he no bar. I am convinced she refuses you be cause she does not love you. Be per sistent in your devotion, and if that does not melt her heart, try giving your atention to some other girl. CERTAINLY. Dear Miss Fairfax: I am eighteen and am keeping company with a young man for the past year. Now this young man’s folks live out of town and invited me to their home. Should I accept their invitation? A. B. S. j If the invitation is from his mother I w'ould have you accept by ail j means. It wull mean a great deal to . your future happiness to get on good > terms with them, and the visit may give you an enlightening view of vout lover. I hope it will prove favor able. Dear Miss Fairfax: vilyun. The second act is the saim as the first, in the asilum. One of the pashunta thare isent crazy at all, he is a rich young man wich in beeing kep in thare so his relatives can git all his munny. He falls in luv with the poor gurl wich is being held thare by the vilyun & tells h*-r that they will find some way to escape. She looked up into his eyes & ree- sited a other peece of poetry. Sh* was all the time reeeiting poetry s rote. Vera toald me. Wra sed tha the longer the heroine stayed in th allium the inoar poetry $ihe rote. Sh looked up into the eyes of the hen & reesited. Oh yes, I will fly away with you And marry you for tur. Yure munny all ran stall frith you, I hare no use for it. dur. Hut what if you mite he in sent tl- not what you represent? Then to this place I wud return d be sorry l ever had went. If you are reely sane, my own. Our lives will pleasant be, B.ut if sum nitc I'd heer you groan I'd hide away from the* It is a awful, haunting feer To feer one's husband is dippy, if if l ever see you thus I'll jump in the Mississippi. The last act Isent finished yet, Ver; toald me. She is pritty smart for a hired gurl. She says wen she gits rich I can marry her wen I gro>- up. On Fancy’s Wings. A sweet young thing in white flut tered toward the aeroplane mechanic, and resolutely took possession of him, asking all those usual senseless ques tions that now have become the com mon lot of aviators and their assist ants. But this particular assistant—and who can wonder; was not the sweet I young thing in white a damsel quite \ adorable?—strove bravely to satisfy I the curiosity of his fair inquirer; and explained with remarkable clearness the working of a monoplane. Still, there is a limit even to th< patience shown by susceptible man toward charming maid. “Tell me.” inquired the sweet youn- thing in white, “what happens wher your engine stops in the air? Can : you come down?” "That’s just the trouble,” sighe the mechanic, mastered by his sense of the ridiculous. “D’you know, ther* are a dozen or so airmen now strand ed above France. Their engines have stopped; they cant get down, and they are starving to death!” Later she learned the truth. S< ended what might have been a ro mance. CHAPTER XV. q-UlERE is a numbing quality to I all sudden and great sorrow. •A Psychologists tell us that the mind is so dazed by the shock of grief that it can not grasp the fearful truth in all its details. Whatever causes this partial insensibility, we are thankful j for it. Mary Panforth was like one stunned during the days that followed her fath er's death. She listened in stony si lence while the facts of his seizure w’ere related to her. He had come up from the office, and after dinner dressed to go to her graduation exercises, but had dropped to the floor as he started to leave the apartment, and in five minutes stopped breathing. He had never regained consciousness. This was no time for subterfuges, and Mrs. Danforth was soon made acquainted with the state of affairs between her daughter and Gordon Craig. She was told that no formal engagement existed, but that the pair loved each other and were going to wait for each other until such time aa thay were ready to mar ry. The bereaved wife, made suddenly old by the great sorrow of her life, clung to the young man, and sobbed out her woe and her trust in him. ”1 have found a son,” she said at last. “God bless you, dear boy!” Craig bent his tall head to kiss her pale cheek. ”1 shall try to be worthy of your daughter,” he whispered, “and of your confidence in me.” He remained in New York for a week. The changes in his business, of which he told Mary, would keep him from the road hereafter, another man having been deputed to travel for his firm, while he was to remain at the home of fice. “Hard times have hit us as well as the rest of the world,” he said regret fully, “and matters do not look as bright as they did. But I shall stick to one job and shall hope for a salary that will warrant my marrying in a year or two. Heaven speed the time!” And Mary was not ashamed to add a sincere “Amen!” to this hope. It was on the day after the funeral that the mother and the daughter learned that, added to the loss of hus band and father, another trouble had befallen them. Investigation of Mr. Danforth’s affairs brought to light the fact that his business was in a desper ate condition and that he had lived right up to his income. His lawyer told the two women the painful truth that when the funeral expenses were paid and a few bills that Mr. Danforth had con tracted were settled the pair would be well-nigh penniless except for a small life insurance the deceased had carried in favor of his wife. “Your husband took that "Western trip on the chance of saving the day,” th« lawyer explained to the widow. “He hoped to put a business deal through out there, but he failed. I think the disap pointment, coapled with the dread of what was before him, hastened his death.” “He did It all for us,” Mary told Craig. “He lived just to make us hap py. He wanted us to have a pretty home and all that tve wanted, and he could not bear to tell us that we must part with these things. Now I can see W’hy he was taken from us. It would have broken his heart had he lived to see us lose what we have been accus tomed to.” Mary spoke firmly, yet gently. “I am going to work, mother,” she asserted. “No, do not look distressed at the idea! It is what father would wish—what he always told me I must be prepared to do if the need arose.” "It will not be for long,” Craig re minded the mother. ”1 hope that mat ters will go so well with me that I cai come for you and Mary soon. Then we three will have a little home of our own.” “I could not accept it even from Gor don,” remarked Mrs. Danforth later to her daughter, "if I did not have that in surance money of my own.” The daughter said nothing. She could not bear to tell her unsophisticated mother what a little way the money, of which she spoke so confidently, would go. The income from it would not sup port one woman, no matter how eco nomical she might be. and the girl new the principal would be drawn upon gradually until it was all gone. And then? j “I will be able to support her my self,” she thought bravely. “She shall use as little of her own money as pos sible. 1 would not want her to be en tirely dependent upon Gordon—even ough he is willing to care fer her. l t eet to work at once.” The place she secured was not a bril liant one, but she had not expected that it would be. She was engaged as ste- nographer and • typewriter to a kindly, middle-aged real estate agent. He had a small office and her salary matched the office. But what else could a be ginner hope for? Thus It came about that when Gor don Craig turned his face westward again he knew that the girl he loved was the sole dependence of her widowed mother. His heart ached when he re membered that the pretty home must be given up, ajid the handsome furniture sold—except such pieces as the two | lonely women w’ould need to furnish the tiny fiat they would take in an unfash- * ionable part of town. He longed to stay and help them. “But my job won’t wait for mef” he muttered with a bitter sign. “If I were only rich!” Which exclamation is such a common on* that it is hardly worth recording. . { Barber—Poor Jim has been sent to an asylum. Victim (in the chair)—Who Is Jim? “.Jim is my twin brother, sir. Jim has long been brooding over the hard times, an’ I suppose he finally got crazy.” “Ls that so?” “Yes. He ^nd me has worked side by side for years, and we were so alike we couldn’t tell each other apart. We both brooded, too. No money in this business now.” “What’s the reason?” "Prices too low. •Unless a customer takes a shampoo It doesn’t pay to shave or hair-cut. Poor Jim! I caught him trying to cut a custo mer's throat because he refused a shampoo, so l had to have the poor fellow locked up. Makes me sad. Sometimes 1 feel sorry 1 didn’t let him slash all h e wanted to. It mi; ..t have saved his reason. Shampoo, sir?” “Yes!" • * * It was Pat’s first day in the saw mill. and his duties consisted of working the circular saw. The fore man directed him as to its use, then left him in order to attend to some pressing matter. Having occasion, however, to pass Pat’s way again, ho , was somewhat annoyed to see him standing Idly surveying his hand. “Well, what’s wrong?" he said sharply. “Sure and begorra I’ve lost a fin ger.” replied Pat. “How did it happen?” inquired the foreman. “Sure, I was jist doin’ like this when—bejabbers! There’s anither one * off!” > • • • The daughter of the house had Just returned from a visit to her cousins, during which she had become engaged to a rising young man whom she had met at the home of her relatives. Ta her mother she was extolling the vir tues of her intended. "Oh, mother,” she exclaimed, “he’s just grand! So 9quare, so upright, so highly polished. Why, even in his notes there is such a sympathetic tone that sometimes I wonder if I am not reading the music of the gods!” “Morey’s sake, child!” Interrupted mother, “are you talking about a young map or a piano?” • * * “I want you to put up some wall paper I have bought,” said the coun try clergyman, meeting the local man-of-all-work. "When can you do it?” “Well, sir,’’ he exclaimed, “you see. I’m rather busy just now. I hung Mrs. S yesterday; I’m hanging your church warden to-day; but, if it’s convenient, I’ll drop round and hang your reverence on Wednesday.” ri Excused. Bob—Will you take a ticket in this raffle for a poor widow Simp—Nix. I wouldn't have any use for a poor widow if I won. $1,000 Reward Offered for every ounce of adulteration or in ferior grade cof fee found in a sealed can of Max well House Blend. Ash your grocer for it. Low round trip fares North and West Commencing June 1st and daily thereafter round trip tickets over the Louisville & Nashville Railroad will be sold at greatly reduced fares to all the principal lake, mountain and sea shore resorts and to many of the larger cities in the North and West. These tickets will be good returning until October 31st, and bear liberal stop-over privi leges. Round trip fares from Atlanta are Cincinnati $19.50 Charlevoix 38.08 Chautauqua Lake Pts. 34.30 Chicago _. 30.00 Colorado Springs— 47.40 Denver 47.40 Detroit ....... 29 00 French Lick Springs 21.70 Indianapolis .....— 22.80 Louisville ... 18.00 Mackinac Island 39.50 These are bat s few of the points Mammoth Cave $17.40 Marquette ... 45.70 Milwaukee ...... 31.75 Minneapolis 43.20 Niagara Falls 35.85 Petoskey 38.08 Put In Bay 28.00 Salt Lake City 60.40 St. Louis 25.60 Toronto 38.20 Yellowstone Park 67.60 There are s great many others and we will he pleased to give full information upon application. Proportionately low fares from other points in Georgia. Let Us Arrange Your Vacation Trip CITY TICKET OFFICE punNcc ' Atlanta 178 4 Peachtree St. etiUIitb ( ^ „ lM4 ATLANTA V _