Newspaper Page Text
f]£*\ 7.iiT7 r
iM* ti'kWM. g£
The Leading Resort House of the World
Particularly Attractive During
July, August, September and October
Atlantic’s Great Summer Season
Capacity 1100. Two Blocks of unobstructed ocean
front facing South and overlooking*the f’tmon* Board-
w Ik; 4ti0 private bnths. each with lea and fresh witer.
White service In both American and a la Carte Dining
Booms. Exquisite music. Golf, Rolling Chairs. The
atres. P1*th. Hiding, Motoring, etc.
The finest bathing beach on the Atlantic Coast.
Ownership Management
JOSIAH WHITE A SONS COMPANY
An Opportunity
loMake Money
ia venters. men of ideas and i.ivaative ability, should write to
day lor our list of tevoaboas needed, and pnxes oferod by leading
manufacturers.
Patents secured or cur fee returned “Why Sousa lavnators
Fail, ‘How io G**t Your Patent and Your Money,” l*d other
valuable booklets seut free to aay address.
RANDOLPH A CO
Patent Attorney®,
618 “F* Street, N. W,
IVAHHIXGTOX, D. C.
A Bachelor’s
. Diar\
A®
'VS
Modes of the Moment
By MAX.
J ULY 31.--You are the only relaxa
tion. Diary, that they permit me to
have, and my fingers, because of my
weakness, feel as clumsy and big us
telegraph poles It is fortunate no one
will ever read this scrawl.
1 want to tell what happened the last
hour before I stopped knowing what was
happening.
I was sitting on the end of a log en
gaged in watching a cork on the water,
thinking, as I so often do, of Sally, and i
longing to see her. when 1 felt Manette’s ;
arms around my neck She had crawled I
out on the log, behind me. a perilous j
thing to do.
"Puppy says," she whispered, making
believe as she frequently did that th#
dog could talk, “that a big black cloud j
is scaring him."
I looker up and found the skies over
cast. There was a muttering threat in i
the waving of the trees, a sullen roar, j
and big. heavy drops of rain began to
fall.
"Puppy is right,” I replied, and turned *
hastily to carry the child back to shore
The log was old and soft and worn I
smooth, and my footing, with the child
in my arms, was precarious. Ordinarily I
cautious, I thought only of the need of
petting Manette to shelter, missed my I
step, and remember little else.
I had « feeling that I was plunging
down. down, with Manette and the i
whole universe plunging on top of me.
Everything turned black, there was a |
sudden, sharp pain in my head that
seemed to spread over my entire body. *
and then I lost consciousness.
They tell me that the log, a fallen
giant of the woods, must have turned,
and that in my efTort to save us from
falling 1 caught hold of it an<i pulled It
down on top of me. Then the rain be
gan to fall In torrents.
“It was merciful." said Richard this
morning, while hovering around me
while the nurse.took her morning walk,
“that you were unconscious. If you
had realized Manette’x danger and your j
helplessness, you’d have gone mad.’’
Manette, they said, was saved from
injury by a miracle I ha\<e a sort of
Indistinct recollection that when I felt i
myself crashing down threw her from
me I don’t know about that.
No one knows what happened in the
next two hours, for it mbs fully that j
long till the dog appeared at the door j
of the kitchen, harking and howling, j
They had heard him coming, they said, .
> a half hour before he appeared In
sight, and were ready with lanterns to I
follow him.
They supposed when the storm broke
that he had found shelter, and were not
worried, as we had been caught in so
many storms before, and had always
come home when they cleared, laughing
and making merry over the experience.
A Friend in Need.
The dog saved us. “You may need
him," Sally Spencer had urged when the
question of takin him came up. Slie
question of taking him came up. We |
needed him more than we needed any- ’
thing else on earth So many friends, j
who have brains where he has only i
dumb Intuition, do not meet the hour
of need as he met it.
Manette says that when she crawled
out of the mud I was lying on the hunk
flat on my back, with the tree trunk
lying across me. She found her way, i
with the rain beating down on her, to j
mS’ side, and in her baby way tried to
rouse me.
Failing, she seemed to realize that
something serious had happened, for she
snuggled down beside me, put both arms
around my neck, and tried, as best she
could with her arms and face, to shel
ter me from the storm.
Her little skirts were torn into shreds,
proving the effort the dog made to
pull her to a place of shelter. He pulled
and barked and pulled, but she held
to me with both arms. 1 cun imagine
the scene—the frantic efforts of the dog
to get her to a place of safety, for
the waters in the lake were rising, and
her equally frantic efforts to cling to
her Uncle Max.
With a mournful howl, he finally de
sisted, and started off to secure help
for the task he was unable to accom
plish alone.
Manette was uninjured, and the cold
beating of the rain had no bud effects.
Her name was the first I spoke when 1
found myself in bed with strange faces
bending over me. and her arms around
my neck, and her face pressed against
mine, is the last 1 remember before I
lapsed into unconsciousness again.
Little Bobbie’s
Pa
The Wife Who Spends Her Husband s Money
For the Season.
T HE skirt <>f the very useful and smart afternoon
gown illustrated on the left-hand side is sltgh;-
ly draped. A fold of material runs diagonally
from the waist to the drapery. The bodice has long
sleeves finished off with a row of small buttons and
the bodice is cut in jockey style. In the center .»
shown a charming evening gown carried out in white
with a touch of color in the japonlca tulle waist
band. The foundation is of ivory charmeuse
and over this is arranged the crystal-em
broidered tulle. Crystal trimming is carried out
on the sleofeless bodice. A smart gown with
a graceful skirt is illustrated on the right. A tunic
or accordion-pleated silk partially covers the char-
meuse skirt; the ends of the sash are finished with
heavy silk tassels. 'Phe collar and cuffs are made
white linen edged with pleated frills.
By WILLIAM F. KIRK.
B OBBIE, sed Pa to me, you ft me
will go oaver to nee Mister
Crowley at his country hoam
to-day. I always have wanted to see
his country hoam, ft this will he a
fine day. Mister Crowley will be glad
to see us.
So we went oaver. Pa was telling
me on the way oaver how his frend
entertained his friends. He think
the wurld of me. Pa aed, ft it will
pleese him to see me at his estate
to-day He has a littol son naimerf
George, about yure age ft thay have
a pony that you can ride. Mister
Crowley Is working on the new drive
around his house ft* I guess I will
watch him work awhile & give him
a few suggestions.
Thay have a vary nice place rite
on a big lake. Wen we got there
two of Mister Crowley’s brothers wa«
breaking up stones with big hammer?
to maik the stones 1!ttel for the
driveway. He was bossing his two
brothers.
Here, he sed to Pa, after he had
shook hands, you are a big husky,
why doant you grab a hammer and
help me. Certainly, ned Pa, you ft:
I wfll show the boys how. Get thare
two hammers ft give them a rest.
Now we will work like this, sed Pa,
you brake ten big stones into quar
ters ft I will brake the quarters into
eighths & then you brake the eights
into thirty-seconds, sed Pa.
Let Eddie do that, sed Mister Crow
ley. No, f»ed Pa. you have got to
work if I do. Eddie and his brother
Art have did enuff work for one day.
But I doant care to swing a ham
mer. sed Mister Crowley, I was
meerly overseeing them. •
Well, sed Pa I guess thare will be
nothing stirring on my part until you
spit on yure hands ft show me that
you. too, are not afrade of honest
iabor.
You brake un the big ones flrs‘.
then, sed Pa’a friend.
No, sed Pa. I am better at braking
up quarter stones than whole ones. 1
can maik the cutest eights out of
quarters you ewer seen, sed Pa. Go
ahedd.
So Pa’s frend started in. but I cud
see that he dident want to. After he
had worked awful hard for neerlv
half an hour he sed to Pa, Now go
aheed ft finish this job.
ft then it beegan to rain hard. Now
we will all go in out of the rain,
sed Pa.
We doant mind the rain a bit, sod
Mister Crowley. You go rite aheed
now ft do yure share.
I newer make littel stones out of
big ones in a rain storm, sod Pa. Why,
thay wuddert ask a convict to work
in a storm like this.
But I insist, sed Mister Crowley.
No sed Pa, I am a vary large, pow
erful'man. ft If I shud get neumonla
1 mite as wall maik my will & 1 p ev
all my debts to my creditors. You
know what neumonla wud do to a
gent like me, Pa sed.
By all meens, sed Missus Crowley.
Cum rite in out of that rain, all of
°So Pa didn’t have to brake any
rock. Pa is a good skeemer about
work.
BY DOROTHY DIX.
T T THEN a young man asks a girl’s
\/\/ hand in marriage the first
^ * question that her father puts
to him is, “Can you support my daugh
ter in comfort?’’
No kind and thoughtful parent, how
ever, ever, takes the trouble to ask a
prospective bride, "Can you spend wise
ly and judiciously my son's hard-earned
money?”
Yet the one thing is Just as Im
portant as the other, and the happi
ness and success of any marriage de
pends just as surely on the wife’s
ability to get the* full purchasing power
out of a dollar as it does upon the
husband’s ability to make that dollar.
The ne’er-do-well of a man does not
more surely bring a family to want and
poverty than the thriftless and waste
ful woman does.
There is a homely old proverb that
says that a woman can throw more out
4>f the back door with a teaspoon than
a man can put in at the front door with
a shovel. And it’s true. No man, un
less he is a financial wizard, c^n
make any headway against the extrav
agance of a wife. It is his wife’s dis
cretion as a spender that settles the
average man’s fate for him, and de
termines whether he is # lo sit on a
bookkeeper’s stool or stand behind the
counter the balance of his life, or
whether he is going to be well to do
and prosperous when he is middle-aged.
When you see the young wife of a
man on a moderate salary always
dressed up in the very latest cut jn
fashion, when you meet her at mati
nees every week and watch her hav
ing tea at a smart hotel afterwards,
when you encounter her in the butcher
shop negligently ordering sweetbreads
and squabs, you don’t have to go to
any fortune teller to forecast the future
of her husband and herself.
You Can Forecast.
You can do that for yourself. You
can see a stoop-shouldered man grow
ing more and more discouraged as the
years go by, and he has nothing to
show for his labor except a mountain
of receipted bills, and at the end of it
all you see a man dead from overwork
or thrown out of his job into hopeless
poverty into which he sinks.
On the other hand, when you see the
wife of a poor young man who does
her own housework and makes her own
frocks and who buys the cheap cuts of
meat at the butcher shop and Is par-
ncular about having the bones and the
trimmings sent home, you are equally
able to forecast the future for her and
her husband. And you see diamonds
and motor cars festooning her horizon
along about the time she is 50.
There is nothing new in these state
ments. Everybody has seen hundreds
of such cases. Everybody can recite
DOROTHY DIX.
to you dozens of instances in their per
sonal knowledge of men who have been
ruined by their wives’ extravagance or
made by their wives’ thrift. Every
mother and father pray that their own
son will get a wife who has the saving
bank habit instead of the bargain coun
ter mania, yet nobody raises a finger to
prevent a catastrophe that threatens
every man who gets married and every
family that is started.
When a woman is wasteful and ex
travagant. and throws her husband’s
good money away we blame her, and
say all the hard things about her that
we can think of. It’s a cruel injustice.
It isn’t her fault. It’s the fault of the
idiotic way ir} which we bring girls up
We don’t teach them the value of
Things Worth Remembering
THE CANNIBAL
A 7 rue Nature Story Complete
Afterwards.
Since then, nothing else has mattered.
I know that they secured a physician
at the hotel, and that the next day my
own doctor came by special train, bring
ing a nurse and Richards with him,
and that he hus been here ever since.
"I am not going to leave you. Max,”
he said, “till I pull you through. It was
my fault that you carne to this place.”
1 am not sorry. Even physical suffer
ing has its recompense 1 do not con
cern myself over a thing in the world.
Manette Is safe, and it seems gnt>d to
me. after so many years of fighting
battles all alone, to have some one now
fighting my battles for me. The doctor
tells me frankly that this will he a
battle. I do not care.
They let me have just enough light to
pee these pages, and when I have grown
tired of writing, and I have paused
many times in writing this, Richards
takes you away Diary, locks you up,
and then the room is darkened again
That is the reason I have begun to re
gard The Hands as disembodied.
They float around me in the strangest
way sometimes, always, through the
long hours of the day and night, mov
ing with quick, deft touches to make
lue more comfortable. Sometimes I
fall asleep holding a hand in mine,
and its firm, cool touch seems to give
strength
“Please." I asked last night, "let me
hold your hand I don't have that hor
rible feeling of floating off alone to an
unknown sea when I have hold of your
hand. I have a notion.’ gr< wing gar
rulous. for the hours at night are long,
"that I would like to be h< Iding your
band when The Pilot calls for me.
Homehow I would not hesitate to go."
"The Pilot isn’t going to call for you,”
replied a voice somewhere. I don't know
where, she seems such an altogether
disembodied person I wonder seme-
i times if she is more than Two Hands
and a Voice "ami you must go to sleep
now and uot think of such things."
By F. ST. MAKS.
HE last sparrow had ceased twlt-
i terlng and tucked his head under
his wing for the night ; the last
blackbird had loft off scolding as black
birds do when they are going to roost—
! and the last of the fowls had fluttered
I up Into its perch in the fowl house,
I when the old buck rat. the master, and
j for that matter the leader of all the rats
j in the farmyard poked his sharp Inqui-
l sitlve nose up out of the hole in the
j barn floor. He was a very big rat. Ills
! ears were like chewed biscuits, and his
j tail was a stump, half of its proper
I length, because of the many fights he
had had. It would have been difficult
I to find two inches on his body not
( marred by old scars. You will see,
| therefore. that his mere survival
I proved his great cunning and strength.
; Having remained quite still for ten
I minutes, and made certain that the cor-
j ner where the big cat usually lay In am-
| bush was empty, he made for the sacks
I of potatoes ranged in a far corner. It
was the work of a few minutes to gnaw
a hole in one of these and extract the
j smallest potato he could get This he
I carried to his hole in the floor and down
beneath where, hidden under the earth
he had a private store of potatoes, nuts,
' grain, etc., which he vjsited when there
! were too many dangers about for him
1 to venture out to feed,
j When next the rat appeared it was In
the covvyard. close to the water trough.
It was a moonlight night, and every
thing in the yard showed up clearly,
j for which reason it had taken him
something like an hour to work his way
| from the barn, moving cautiously al-
, ways in deep shadow. There was a bull
j in the yard, a huge beast standing in
! the full glare of the moon, rumbling to
: himself deep down in his inside, and
I two bats were fdaying in and out of the
open thatched cowshed. And that was
; all, or so it seemed.
: Like to Drink.
And then suddenly he saw its head go
up, and its burning eyes peer over the
edge below to the yard. Next moment
it dropped flat and froze, too—not 3
feet away from the rat. Still It had
not seen him, and whatever danger had
sturtled it came plainly from below.
You can understand, then, that the
old rat was burning anxious to lift his
head and peer over the side. It was
awful to He there and await a danger
you could not see, hut he could not
move.
Then, after about five or six minutes
of awful, motionless suspense, very,
very slowly over the side of the trough
a head lifted and peered down upon
the grenish water, and the two beasts
crouched motionless within a yard of it.
Beyond a slight start when the head
appeared, our rat did not move, and as
for the wo.usel, it did not move at all.
Very good reason had the rat to start,
for the head was that of his wife.
Yes, she was looking for him, and he
knew it, but not in the way you think.
Slowly, beside hers, another head
moved up and peered over, to be fol-
1< wed by another and yet others, till
there were ten of them in a row staring j
with their gleaming eyes. And all the
Household Suggestions
Rats are thirsty creatures, and like
to drink every few hours, is possible,
otherwise you would never have found
our cunning old rascal here out in the
open. The trough was in the moon
light. an,j as he climbed up it he did so
with every sense on the alert. So in
tent was ho upon the possibility of
danger around that it never struck him
to glance Inside the trough. In fact, he
was actually leaning over the edge to
drink before he realized that something
was there drinking already beside him
self.
A younger and less cunning rat would
have started and bolted, and given him
self away, but this one instantly stiff
ened—“froze," they call it in the wild—
and lay still as death. There was no
mistaking the identity of the drinker.
It was a full-grown weasel. None other
possessed that long, lithe form, or that
cruel gleam In the eyes, except the stoat.
Apparently the weasel had r.< t seen
him, for when it had finished drinking
it came slowly along the edge of the
trough, balancing carefully, straight to
ward his crouched, motionless form.
If black kid gloves or calf-kid boots
have become hard, put the gloves on
the hand and apply in that position
(as if washing the hands) ns much
camphorated oil as the leather will
absorb; then take off and hang to dry
and also allow the camphor to evap
orate. With boots, rub in well with
the hand the same kind of oil. Th-s
gives the original suppleness to the
leather.
To brighten a carpet, take five or
six large potatoes and scrape them
finely into a pail of water. Stir, then
strain. Wring out a cloth in the wa
ter and rub the carpet. Rinse the
cloth as soon as soiled. Should soot
fall on a carpet, sprinkle dry salt
thickly over it. leave It for a few
minutes, then brush up. No trac- of
the soot will remain.
Cayenne pepper is excellent to r td
cupboards of mice. * The floor should
be gone over carefi lly, and each hole
stopped up with a piece of mg dipped
in water and then in cayenne peppe r .
Tar may be removed from th<*
hands by rubbing with the outside of
fresh orange or lemon peel and dry
ing immediately. The volatile oils
dissolve tar so that it can be rubbed
off.
Permanganate of potash will
olcase dirty 'fiiters of ail impurities.
A solution should be passed through
the filter until it comes out as pink
as when it was poured in.
To cure a feather that has become
damaged with rain or dew, sprinkle it
th: klv with common salt and shake
before a bright fire until dry, when
you will find it as good as new.
time beneath, both rat and weasel could
hear a continuous pattering and rus
tling. which told of more rats and yet
more.
This, seeing that they were of his own
kind, ought to have pleased the rat,
one would have thought. It did not. It
made him tremble from head to foot,
and he had not trembled in the least
when he thought himself alone with
the weasel. He considered himself, in
fact, a match for the bloodthirsty lit
tle weasel any day, but he knew he
was no match for that which was com
ing.
Flight.
Then all at once he sprang to bis feet,
and so quickly that none of the other
animals had time to move, he raced
along the edge of the trough, sprang
clean over the astonished weasel, land
ed on the far side, slipped, recovered
and scamtiered away along the top of
the cattle-mangers, and so to the
ground and out of the farmyard gate.
It was magnificently done, that amaz
ingly quick retreat, and it showed a
certain amount of reasoning. Had he
gone any other way be would inevita
bly have been either surrounded or over
taken by the other rats, but as it was
those that poured after him came into
collision with the weasel, who, being the
rats’ hereditary foe and possessed of as
tonishing courage, naturally fought and
checked the pursuit, until overpowered
by sheer numbers. Thus, by the time
the whole mob of rats had really got
well on the trail of our old villain he was
some fifty yards down the hedge that
bordered the field outside and beyond
hope of capture.
Now you will naturally ask why these
rats, his relations and neighbors, and
especially his own wife, would seek to
murder him—and I will whisper to you
the reasen. When his wife returned to
her nest she found two of her babies
gone and another one freshly killed, and
her nose told her that our old rat was
the culprit.
And that is why, if you go to the
farm to-day, you will not find the cun
ning old rat, who knows all about traps,
kills the chickens and ducklings, sucks
the eggs and is the worst foe his own
kind possesses, living on the farm at
all, but about a field or two away, with
in raiding distance.
Worth It.
"Prisoner at the bar,” said the
judge, "is there anything you wish to
say before sentence is passed upon
you?”
"No, there is nothin’ I care to say;
but if you’ll clear away the tables
and chairs for me to thrash my law
yer, you can give me a year or two
extra.”
Same Thing.
"Sanders, have another drink.’’ a
friend said, entering a bar where Mac-
Hoot was just tossing off a glass of
whisky.
"Na, na,” answered Sanders Mac-
Hoot. "J winna hue tfnlther, but ye
can pay for this if ye like,”
Up-to-Date Jokes
M o re Attractive — “Tremendous
crowd up at our church last night.”
“New minister?”
"No. it was burned down.”
* • ♦
Teacher—When did Charles I make
his greatest mistake? , , ,
Bright Scholar—The time he lost
his head.
* * •
Mark Twain’s story of Horace
Greeley’s handwriting has, a parallel
in this, from a railway conductor in
Missouri to the president of the road.
The conductor wrote:
"A farmer has been riding on this'
pass for about a year. Do you want
him to continue to use it?”
The president put on his glasses,
looked the paper over carefully, and
said: i .
"Why, this is not a pass. It is a
receipt I gave the fellow for a load
of wood about a vear ago.
• * *
Shopper—Do you keep unground
coffee beans here?” . . Q
Assistant—No, ma’am; upstairs.
This is the ground floor.
• * *
They were newly wed, and were
showing their friends over their tiny
apartments. Each room in turn was
inspected. Last on the list came the
kitchen. The little wife waxed elo- ;
quent. ..... I
• You see.” she said, "that is where |
I do all my cooking. And this is the
very basin in which I mix my cakes.
“And this,” cried the young man. j
Indicating the oven with a sweep of
his arm, “is the brickkiln!
Idle Thoughts.
Fan—A thing to blow* warmth off
with. ...
Fool—A person whose opinion (in
fers from our own.
Tact—To leave unsaid the wrong
thing at the tempting moment.
Repartee—What we might have
said ourselves if the other fellow had
not been so quick.
Committee—A body of people who
waste hours and keep minutes.
Deputation—A term signifying
many, but not signifying much.
Reputation—A bubble which a man
bursts when he tries to blow it for
himself.
Water—A fluid useful for washing
purposes. Some people are said to
drink it.
Gentleman—A man who can wear a
diamond ring without anybody notic
ing it
Dust—Mud with the juice squeezed
out.
—Something that makes the po- :
tatoes taste nasty when you forget to 1
put any in.
Synonym—A word you can us* 1 i
when you don’t know how to spell the
other one.
Friend—A person who knows all
about you and likes you just the same.
Public executions in Paris prove
very profitable to the owners of
j houses commanding the scene. Win
dows are let out for the occasion, the
landlords watching for the first sign
l of the execution, and then at once
sending word to the persons who have
i hired the room. If an ordinary crim-
| inal is executed, the charge is usually
about $6 per seat, but should ihe of-
; fender have committed any remark-
i able crime, the price runs up to as
I much as $30.
A Pittsburg boy, William A. Davis
: reached his thirteenth birthday on
I Friday, June 13, 1913. He weighed 113
1 pounds, lived in Taggart street, which
j lias thirteen letters in it, and was ip
; grade thirteen at school. His mother,
who was born <>n December 13. or
average yearly rainfall is not more
than 10 inches, a square mile will
support only eight or nine sheep. In
Buenos Ayres the same area, with
34 inches of rain, supports 2,560
sheep.
The average depth of sand in the
deserts of Africa is from 30 to 40
'feet.
money We don’t teach them how to
spend it, and to expect them to make
a wise use of it is as unreasonable as
to expebt a land lubber to know how
to pilot a ship.
No Experience.
The average girl, until she gets mar-
ried, has never had the spending of a
dollar. Her father has paid her bills,
and her mother has decided what sh®
could buy. A little change for street
car and soda water Is about all the
money that has ever jjngled in her
purse. She has never had any fixed
allowance for her clothes and persona!
expenses, and so has never realized that
if she . paid too much for a hat she
would have to do without a dress, and
that you can’t spend your money and
have it. too.
Parents are so afraid that their
daughters will waste their money that
they let the girl learn how to spend on
her husband’s earnings, which is pret
ty hard on Friend Husband*
It isn’t the gril’s fault that she doesn’t
know how to spend her husband's money
wisely. It’s the fault of her parents
who have not taught her one of the
most important lessons in life. That
this is true In abundantly proven by
the fact that women who have earned
their living before they were married,
and who have thus learned how to han
dle money, are almost invariably eco
nomical and thrifty managers and helps
to their husbands.
There is no greater Injustice in the
world than the way women are treat
ed about money. A woman without
money is the most forlorn and piteous
creature on earth. She Is in a thou
sand times worse plight, and more dan
ger, than a man is under similar cir
cumstances, yet fathers do not concern
themselves to try to protect their daugh
ters against such a fate.
Boys are given money of their own
when they are little fellows in order
that they may learn to handle It, but
the little girl is left to find out this
Important piece of knowledge the best
way she can. A boy Is fitted for some
occupation whereby he may support
himself in comfort. A girl’s living is
left to chance. She isn’t taught any way
by which she can keep herself out of
the poor house If she doesn’t marry, or
<f her husband should die and leave her
penniless.
A rich man leaves his daughter a
fortune, hut he has not taught her one
thing about how to take care of it, and
she is left to the mercy of executors and
lawyers, and she doesn’t even know
enough to keep herself from being
swindled.
Perhaps some day men will realize
that the only way to protect themselves
is to teach women how to handle* money
by giving them a definite sum for their
own, instead of making them do the
mendicant act for every cent they get.
Then we shall hear less about extrava
gant wives. It’s ignorance, not vicious
ness. that makes women waste money.
cered Master Willie to stay in bed on
! his birthday to iisure that no harm
| should befall him.
Kettlewell, in Yorkshire, possesses
the most remarkable electric lighting
Installation in England. The village
is only a tiny place, but the River
Wharfe provides it with natural water
! power, and at a cost of less than
$3,000 a lighting plant ha.s been erect-
| ed, the villagers being the sharehold
ers and the directors of the company.
Now that the large advertising
posters that were so great a disfigure
ment of the country on either side of
the French railway lines have been
rendered illegal by act of Parliament,
advertisers on the Orleans Railway
have begun to plant flower beds ( J
brilliant colors in the fields on either
side of the line, with the flowers ar
ranged so as to sp^ll the name of the
goods to which they are to call at
tention.
In parts of Australia, where the I
Delicious—Strengthening—Cheap
You have no idea ihe number of delicious, savory
meals that can be made with Faust Macaroni until you get our free recipe book—write
tor it today A 10-cent package of Faust Macaroni contains as much food value as 4
lbs. of beef—confirm this by your doctor.
Ir-SLIUSTT
Macaroni
will solve the hlgh-cost-of-livlng problem—will cut your meat bill two-thirds. It la mad* from Durum
wheal—a high glutinous cereal that makes muscle, bone and flesh. Serve Faust Macaroni often—it is
a ?uest pleaser—a great food for growing children—a satisfying, appetizing dish for everybody. Eat
more of it. At all groceiV—5-ceni and 10 cent package"
MAULL BROS. St. Louis. Mo.
Annual Mountain
Excursion
Southern Railway
Saturday, August 16.
$6.00 Asheville, N. 0.
$6.00 Lake Toxaway, N. C.
$6.00 Hendersonville, N. C.
$6.00 Hot Springs, N. C.
$6.00 Tate Springs, N. C.
$6.50 Eristol, Tenn.
Final Limit September 1.
Three trains to Asheville.
Morning Noon Night
3:00 a.m. 11:15 a.m. 9:30 p.m.
MAKE RESERVATIONS NOW
CHICHESTER S PILLS
T1IC DIAMOND BRAND. A
DIAMOND It RAND PILLS, for *5
years known as Best. Safest. Always Reliable
SOLD BV DRUGGISTS EVERYWHFIK
TOO FAST TRAINS
Lv. 7:12^,5:10 PM.