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4 'Mr NIL Marriage and Happiness By DOROTHY DIX. “Give Me Long Distance” By NELL BRINKLEY Copyright ISIS by International News Service. • 1 43 the happy way to be married the scrappy way? Is the real emblem of domestic felicity the prize fighter's mitt, and not the dove of peace? <^an husbands and wives really be too polite, too considerate, and too amiable'’ Is the perfect husband or wife not to bo desired, after all? The average married couple would answer these questions by saying that nobody knew, because no man or w oman had ever achieved h*s or In r I Ideal mate. II* or she might have I thought he or she was getting this | wonder at the lime of the marriage, but later on—say five years after ward—well, that’s a different story, and a sad one, friends. Undoubtedly we are all in the way of thinking that the reason that mar riage Is so often a failure Is because the high contracting parties are not only shy on a large proportion of th« domestic virtues, but they are also short on patience, and civility, and tact, and the most elementary re gard for each other’s rights and per sonal liberty. When we see the way In which most husbands and wives treat each other we are not surprised at the sound of breaking and rending of matrimonial bonds that we hear all about us. We are amazed that any couple remain tied together. It appears, however, bat you can overdo, a good thing even In matri- fnony, and that a husband and wife can he too perfect, ns witness the case of a prominent young couple of actors, who have just separated be cause they found an ideal marriage too dull to be endured. The Same Kind. This young man and woman wore of the kind of people who take life seriously. Before they were married they had long heart-to-heart talks 1n which they discussed the duties and obligations of husbands and wives, and formulated a plan for making matrimony a grand, sweet song. They drew up a list of things that they would do and would refrain from doing, and pledged themselves never to speak a harsh word, never to an swer hack when the other spoke Im patiently, never to provoke a quarrel, never to he Jealous, or unreasonable, or moody, or grouchy, but to he al ways tender, affectionate, consider ate, patient, forbearing and so on. In short, each was to he a pin feathered angel, and their home wus to be a leaven on earth, hut instead this ushering in a domestic millen nium as they anticipated, each soon began to bo bored stiff, and to long to make a few dents in the perfec tion of the other. Life became in supportable. It was like living on a diet of nothing hut chocolate creams, or In a climate where there Is never anything but sunshine, and so the victims of the too much perfection in marriage are petitioning the courts to divorce them. This case can hardly he considered in the light of an nv ful warning, be en we there are not i rany people who err on the side of cMng too* good. But undoubtedly hard av the faulty husband or wife is to endure, the per fect one would he still worse, for there is nnthihg in Heaven or earth that is more exasperating than the lndlvldu.il that la always rlirht. unlear It Is the jK-rriin who remains cool, . atm. and ■ olKcted while you are n seething volcano. It Is not In humanity to endure per fection, especially In Its mate, and that Is «h\ the wife of a man'who Is an example In the community always wears a nteek, dejected look, while the husband of a superior woman Is a right so abject that it brlmts tears to the hardest eyes. The Successful Wife. It Is also to be observed that the women who are the happiest and the best loved wives are almost Invari ably poor. weak, faultv creatures, who waste their husbands’ money on fins clothes and good times whereas the wives who do their duty by their families by ec onomirlnK and working and going shabby, never get any Ihnnks for It. It I" also dlsrouraglne to masculine virtue for men to ob serve that the most adored husbands are Ihose whose wives are kept busy forgiving them things. As a matter of fai t, most of the theories about married life don’t work out In real experience. For in stance. wives are advised that the way 1o keep a man nailed to his own Preside Is to be always amusing and entertaining and dressed up. altd to chat gaily with husband of an even ing, and io sing and play for him. and keep something going all the time, f’ari anybody imagine anything more horrible than such a home, a home that was an understudy of a mtislr had and a wife that leapt nimbly from vaudeville ntunt to vaudeville stunt? . What you want with a home is a place where you can take otT your coat and your collar, and sit on the hack of votir neck, and be quiet, with, out having to talk, or to be talked lo, or to have to listen with a polite ex pression of an interest von don't feel Certainly to be mayried to a woman who would read aloud lo you. or render a few operatic selections when von were dead tired, ought to entitle any man to divorce on the ground of cruel and unusual punishment. And. equally objectionable would be a husband who was such a perfect gentleman that he always' made his Wife feel as If she must have on her best frock and her company man ners and before whom she could never perinlt herself the luxury of appearing In a kimono, and saying what was really on her mind. A Mystery. Outsiders often wonder at the why of the family spat It Is so perfectly useless, and so easily avoided. They can not sec why the wife should not have kept silent on the topic that is like waving a red tlaa before a mad bull to introduce to her husband's no tice. Nor can they see why the man hasn’t prudence eno ’gh to turn away anger with a soft word. The real psychology of the domes tic quarrel Is that nature is trying lo Infuse a little ginger fnto domesticity to keep It from gettftig too monoto nous and so cloying on the domestic palate. A good round quarrel is the thunderstorm that clears the atmos phere and bring fresh ozone Into the family circle. The Immoral of all of which is that It is fatal to try lo be too good a husband or wife. John Has a Garden 44 T ullN I *ai<1 J der 'OHN is a very intense man,” paid the woman in the laven der dress who had just or dered tea. "Whatever lie does or buys or thinks is the . ltlmate limit of that particular thing. When he wanted to have a flower garden 1 forgot his peculiarities and so 1 neglected to head him off. It seemed to me then that growing green stuff wa« a harmless form of amusement and would give me lots of time to take my mind off from worrying about John. "He nearly had brain fever through trying to plant an acre of tilings in a space 3t) by f»0 feet. Having room for ten penny plants, he bought twenty. When the 30 larkspur plants arrived he found that he had space for flf teen. It was the same way all through tlie garden. "However, these that I have men tioned were only minor annoyances. "What 1 am getting at is that posi tive revolution of our manner of liv ing that followed his discovery that the scheme of nature included in sects. At least we started out by ('ailing them insects, but we ended by using the briefer and much more emphatic term. bugs. A Promising Stage. "John’s garden had reached the promising stage where there were tiny, hard little buds on everything and he was terribly excited, imagin ing what it was going to look like presently and was pluming himself on the result of his toil when lie hap pened to Investigate a fuchsia bud that had withered unaccountably. "I ll never forget the sight of my husband in that awful instant. “First he shot right up in the air about ten feet, then he waved his arms and choked and immediately beat his chest and howled for me. Believe me, 1 ran It ip a terrible things to be married to a man for several years and then discover that he is a victim of spasms! But such was my experience "‘John!’ I gasped as soon as I could speak. Where is the pain? j "‘Pain?’ John bellowed. ’It was a spider! I smashed him’ A measly, little gray spider. Millicent, has eaten off the stem of that perfectly good fuchsia bud’ And it would have bloomed to-morrow" John was star ing at the blasted bud in bis hand. ‘Hook out!’ he yelled as I toppled over against the fence in my relief. ‘You’ll break those lilies ’ "Then John did another war dance. He had discovered two devouring in sects on his lilies. He killed them with a murderous rage and then petted those lilies scandalously. If he had rescued his child from a man-eating tiger he couldn’t have gone on worse. “From that time on he became a prowler He was up at dawn chasing gray spiders, black spiders and pink spiders, not to mention furry cater pillars and cutworms and beetles. Oh, I know all about them because he had to have some one to tell bis sorrows to and what is a perfectly good wife for but to unload troubles upon? "I would be sinking back into slum ber when suddenly I would wake up with a shriek and find John dangling just above my nose something that wxigglecL ‘Look, Millicent.’ he would gay. ‘VYjaat do you suppose this kind of bug Is? I found it on the honey suckle vines and nine of the buds are gone! Confound it!’ Then he would clutch the bug firmly around the throat and shake it till its teeth rat tled while 1 crawled under the bed clothes, or he would rush In bringing a lot of mud on his shoes which he would leave on my rose-colored rugs, and In a quivering voice would re port that he had slain 23 beetles that were engaged In making terrible hav oc amid the petunias. Irritated. "The abundance and variety of bugs continually irritated John. He pass »d rapidly from a state of amazement to one of constant rage. No matter where he was he would stare suddenly and make a grab for a shadow or »i shoe button or a dangling string, and then would apologise and explain that he thought for a minute the object was another kind of bug. " ‘Why are there so many kinds?’ he would ask. helplessly. ‘A fellow Just gets used to seeing one kind o f caterpillar and looking for it anJ meanwhile six other varieties are eat ing things up right before his eyes.’ "He hunted bugs hours before breakfast, and hi' spent his evenings in the garden with a lantern boenus' there were some kinds of bug# that were more easily caught then. Dur ing the few moments that he devoted to his meals he read books on bugs or frowned over plans to exterminate .ill hues at one fell swoop by germs >f compressed atr. "The day he told me that he had counted up to dote 341 different kind9 I of bugs in his garden I saw that J something had to be done. So I ac cepted the Maher*’ invitation ' to go | traveling with them for six weeks— and we start to-morrow. John nearly passed away when 1 broke the news of his impending departure to him, but he is partially reconciled now, for be has hired a man to do nothing but kill bugs In his garden the rest of the summer.” BEHIND CLOSED DOORS One of the Greatest Mystery Stories Ever Written By ANNA KATHARINE GREEN. (Copyright, 1913. by Anna Katharine Green.) TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT. "Very likely." "Dr. B ,’’ Mr. Gryce now remarked. "1 want time." "Good!" was the reply, "and how much ?" -"Well, that I can not tell. Maybe hours will answer, and maybe I shall want days. There is all her past his tory to learn, and where she was on that short vacation to which the land lady alludes. If you want to get at the truth, postpone your inquest a lit tle. 1 won’t let the matter drag." "1 see; Gryce is awke, and all be cause of a look.” ‘‘Less things than that have sent a man to the gallows before now. Intri cate locks have small key#." "And you hope to open this one?" Mr. Gryce’s cuff-button flashed. It had received a glance which recalled the days when Mr. Gryce’s glance meant something. Nell Brinkley Says: ELIA), DANNY—hello—hello! a IT ELIA), 1 1 Give me long distance please. What? Yes, this is the fellow who’s making his pile—out here where the hills come down from the snow of the Sierra Mad res to dip their feet in the sea. I’m boosting land, 1 am. It’s a great country, Danny just a little piece of heaven that got nicked off and fell and stuck here by the Pa cific. Of a morning the far snow is a glow of rose. At noon the poppies lie in the fields like yellow banners across the hills, and morning and noon and forever. And forever the mermaids rinse out their lace petti coats on the coast—in indigo water and suds. It’s a long lino 1 want. At lanta town! From the blue sea to the gray. My heart’s a-crying for her so, slit* surely can hear it there. It’s the prettiest girl in town I want. The sweetest little fellow in town. She’s using new thought on my pile and keeping a warm heart for me.’’ Hello—Danny—hello—hello! Give me long distance, please. Is this the girl who’s so just “plum- sweet’’ a snare for the honev- Facts and Surmises. ’ RS. OLNEY's Indignation against the detective, Harrison, did not last long. Once relieved from the constraint of his superior’s presence, he showed himself so respectful and considerate that her prejudices were soon vanquished and he had more than one opportunity to approach that quar ter of the room over which she had promised to hold such a jealous watch. But as it was, he had no sooner be guiled her into conversation, than some movement of the doctor attracted the good woman’s attention and stopped the flow of speech into which she had been betrayed. And once when he thought he was really on the point of learning some important fact, that same grave and determined individual boldly Interfered with the remark that Mrs. Olney had better not tire herself, as she would need all her strength to answer the cor oner’s questions on the morrow. It was, therefore, with something like relief that in the early morning he heard the bell ring and saw the coroner enter, followed by a woman w r hose kind, moth erly face did not deceive him as to the part she was to play In this drama. 1 he long struggle with the severe, gloomy- browed doctor, who had the faculty of making his presence felt in a heavy, op pressive kind of way. even when he did not speak or appear to hear, was over at last, and he would now have the op portunity to gather such fragments of information, as he knew would be ac ceptable to Mr. Gryce. But for some reason or other it was destined that he should not shine in this affair. Though he had a merry time downstairs and went in hts search for knowledge as high as the room in which the unhappy girl had lodged, he gleaned but little of interest; so that when Mr. Gryce came, he had really nothing to report beyond the slight fact of which I have already made mention. When, therefore, the elder detective announced to the coroner that he had all the girl’s past history to learn, he was stating nothing but the simple fact, and it was to this task he addressed himself as soon after leaving that offi cial as circumstances would permit. His first attempt succeeded as well as could be expected, Mrs. Olney receiving him in real character with as good a grace, and telling him all she knew in as candid a spirit a basely played upon evening before. The Story. Her story as volunteered to him and doubtless to the coroner before him, was as follows: Mildred Farley was an orphan, her widowed mother having died about a month before in the very house and in the very room which she herself was oc cupying at the tithe of her own untimely end. This mother was a very attractive woman of the gentle, retiring type, whose melancholy eyes told of a life of mingled love and sorrow. Her daugh ter. who had appeared to idolize her, sacrificed everything to her comfort, of this thought, by Mildred’s uniform look of indifference, that her fond desire was not to be realized. When, therefore, Mildred informed her one morning that she was going away for a little visit, the good woman never thought of the doctor iq connection with her departure, nor did she then or afterward harbor any suspicion that her bright young boarder was contemplating marriage with any one -least of all with him If this busy girl had broken in upon her usual habits, he had not; nor w’as there anything in his bearing or con versation to lead her to suppose that he meditated any change in his mode of life. The news of their proposed marriage, with the tragic developments which had immediately ensued, had therefore awakened in the w’hole household the greatest feeling of surprise; nor could Mrs. Oln^y, for one. realize that the young and blooming girl upon whom the labor and sorrows of the last few months had left scarcely a trace, had suc cumbed in a moment to the tempta tion of suicide, no matter by what sick ness she had been seized. "I know that folks are taken dreadful sudden sometimes," the old lady re marked at this juncture. ‘‘But I can not reconcile such an end with what I knew of Mildred. It isn't in keeping with her character. If she had loved the doctor more or hated him more I could perhaps have understood it. But she was healthy in body and soul, a frank young, hopeful girl, and I don’t see ” She said no more, but her lips took a grim line and Mr. Gryce perceived that his suspicions, vague as they were, w’ere not altogether unshared by this warm hearted woman and true friend of Mil dred Farley. The Examination. He therefore started with good hope upon a line of questions by which he ex pected to reach some clew that would help him to the end he felt rather than saw before him. But though his skill was great, the result was meager, and after a lengthened conversation the only facts he thought worth recording in his mind were these: That there had certainly been some thing peculiar iu the young girl’s ac tions of late; a certain reticence about her work for instance, such as she had never before displayed. Though she ha<j made several handsome dresses during the last month (as the scraps lying about her room sufficiently testi fied), she had never shown them to her landlady as she had previously been ac customed to do, but kept herself and them locked up in her room till the time came for taking them home. And yet these dresses were certainly for other people and not for herself, she having been seen carrying them out in a great box many times during the four weeks she had kept herself such a pris oner. That the person for whom they were chance word or petty revelation he ex pected his clew, not from the open de tails which every one knew. His next interview was with the wom an who had come with the Coroner and whom he, as w r ell as Harrison, recog nized for an expert female detective. She had taken Mrs. Olney’s place beside the dead girl, and from her he hoped to gather a fact about which he was very anxious. “Well, Mrs. Roberts," he exclaimed upon seeing her, "did you get the line j sent you?” *’l did, sir.” "And what have you to say?” “That you are all right. There Is i mark of fresh paint on the back of hei gown between the shoulder blades.” Mr. Gryce drew a deep breath ex presslve of great satisfaction. "I thought so,” he cried. "And what wai its color, Mrs. Roberts; to a shade mind?” "As near as I could judge in the !lgh< I had. it was brown, but of a very bright and peculiar tint.” ’’Right again. I am much obliged t. you. very much obliged to you Doei any one else know about this spot?" "Not to my knowledge.” "Very good; It Is immaterial. ’Twll take more than one of us to dlscovei where the paint came from I imagine.’' From Mrs. Roberts he passed to th< servants and from them to Mlldred’i room. All these Investigations had bean made by Harrison, but In a mysterious matter like this Mr. Gryce trusted to no one's Inspection but his own. As a re sult he added the following paragraph to his list of facts: That this young dressmaker's time was not entirely devoted to sewing. On her table were various books of study, all bearing the marks of use, and in the desk, which contained nothing else of interest, was a copybook full of French phrases, evidently nrit’en by her hand. He confiscated a leaf of this book. Late Evidence. WEEK had passed and Mr. Gryce is again closeted with the Coro ner. From his appearance he had not met with the success which he had anticipated in this matter; but then who could tell anything from Gryce’s appearance! "You have finished your inquiries," observed the coroner. ‘ Weil, who aie your witnesses?" "Rather, who are yours? I have done nothing." "Nothing?" "Nothing that will be of any assist ance to you. Either I am getting c’d or this is a particularly unproductive af fair. I can make nothing out of it " The Coroner looked disappointed. "What, with all those points you Sug gested ?" "What were they? There was a veil found clinging to her garments which was a different • ne from that she wore A destined was rich, for she came several out. But wnat Is if he had not so her credulity the l veil? A piece of times to be fitted, and always in a car- i gauze cut from a length of similar riage. i material. Nothing traceable there. All That the place to which Mildred had 1 could do was to make certain that she gone on a visit was not known to her did not buy it during that evening at landlady, nor as far as could be learned any of the stores. Where she did get ij to any one else in the house. ! 1 can not say. It was impossible to find out." "Well, well!" r ‘The refuge which she sought after That Mildred was invariably well and had never to all appearance stood in need of a doctor’s prescription. That Dr. Molesworth had been Mrs. Farley’s physician and in this way seen j much of the daughter. But that he had never appeared to take advantage of this fact, nor could Mrs. Olney recall the least token of an existing affection between them. If lovers, they had been very circumspect, too circumspect as it now appeared; such seeming indiffer ence could cover nothing good. That contrary to their usual open re lations they had been seen just once i whispering together on the stairs. But even then it was not as lovers whisper, i rather like persons who have some busi- 1 ness to settle. That no one in the house ever firmed i their names together in speaking of , them; nor were they ever the subject) of jokes among the boarders. A poor array of seemingly unpro ductive facts, it is true; but Mr. Gryce | was not discouraged. It was from some j leaving the hotel is a mystery; conse quently the place of poisoning, and the circumstances under which the poison was taken or administered. The most careful investigations have been made. Every spot known to the police where a giii in her condition of mind might seek to hide herself has been examined, but to no effect. The house, if house she entered, was a private one, and, being such, we can only locate It by open measures The inquest will have to take place." To Be Continued To-morrow. KODAKS™”?.’, First Class Finishing and En larging. A complete stock Jims, plates, papers, chemicals, etc. Special Mall Order Department for out-of-town customers. Send for Catalogue and Price List. A. K. HAWKCS C). Kodak Otpartmtn' | 14 Whitehall St. ATLANTA, GA That she bees? A CLEVER MAN’S CHOICE IN WOMEN “I Queen Wilhelmina is immensely w« althy in her own right, and has settled upon her husband $3,h(*h 000. The interest of this sum, about $150,- , 000 a year, will be strictly his own. A railway servant at Tivoli, Italy, who earns $30 a month, has received I information that by the death of an j uncle In Buenos Ayres he becomes the inheritor of a fortune of $5.000,• ! ooo. The record for brevity In wills is surely held by F. C Thorn, who, be ing suddenly struck down with ill ness in 1906, was just able to scrib ble the words "All for mother." an1 add his initials. This will was held to be valid. Although in his eighty-fifth year, Mark All. well known as a pedestraiv, has just cocmpleted a 5.000-mile walk in ninety-one davs He did it for t wager of $500, w hich he lost, as he took one day too long to accompli* n his task.*' AM going to marry a beautiful woman," said the clever man, "and a good woman, and 1 don’t care whether she can spell c-a-t, cat, or d-o-g dog. or not. "The stupider she Is the better; women ere so comfy when they are stupid—they are like nice soft cush ions, always so pretty to see, and so nlc*» to lean against. "I'lti tired of clever people, tired of bright women, tired of intelligent companionship. 1 want to be com forted; 1 don’t want to be stimulated. "Marry now ? No; not just quite yet. I’m not ready Just now. but in a | few years, when I’m through with thihgs. I’ll marry—somebody pretty, somebody dull, somebody sweet tem pered. and then I shall have a fami ly—tall sons and pretty daughters— clever boys and good girls—and 1 shall sit back and watch them grow up. and tell my wife what to do. and what not to do, and my sons and 1 will have a good time laughing at the pretty sisters and the kind, sweet- tempered mother, and life will be just as it should be." And the clever man did what so few clever men ever do—he kept his word. He knew clever women and pretty women and good women, and rich women and poor women and young women, and middle-aged women and old women, and women as slim as wil lows and w’otnen who thought of themselves as “Junoesques." Five years ago he married, just as he said he would, a beautiful, amia ble fool. Yesterday I saw the clever man and his beautiful wife. Thert* were two children a very ugly, very lively, very Interesting, very clever little girl, with her fattier’* high fore head and her father's stubborn mouth and her father’s awkward gait. Ana there was a very handsome, very dull, very slow-witted, very timid little boy, with his mother’s weak mouth and his mother’s almost silly smile. And the clever man was madly in love with his ugly daughter, and was doing his best to spoil her, and the stupid woman was desperately devot ed to her stupid son. and they were all four very happy, much to the dis gust of several very much interested CHICHESTER S PILLS . .<»; c . . Vru|fl«l. Ask f >r 411 |.t ||‘» H.TFB'h diami.xd iirano pi" yr*n V non a. test. Safest. K rllahl* SOIBBV DRUGGISTS EVtRVHKfPT 1 N DIGESTION? Stop It quickly; Have your grocer send you one doz. 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 Preoared with the celebrated Shiva r Mineral Water and the purest flavoring materials. SH!VAR SPRING. Manufacturers SHELTON. S. C. * E. L. ADAMS CO., Distributor*. Atlanta. and it was mainly on account mother’s ill health that Mildred worked so hard at a trade manifestly beneath her capacity and breeding For Mrs. Farley had been brought up in luxury and had many wants which could only be satisfied by means greater than those usually acquired by a young girl in Mil dred’s position. But work and self-de nial will do much, and Mrs. Farley j never had any reason to complain Nor j with her death had Mildred’s exertions | ceased. Though the necessity for such ‘ ' severe labor seemed lo be past, she had | shown no disposition to Indulge people who had been hoping all along self. From early morning Bv WINIFRED BLACK her till late at that the clever man would see whal a n ight she had sat at her work, finish- mistake he had made, and would be j lnjp onft beautiful dress after another, till ten, very miserable. j j^ rs Olney w r as fain to believe that she All of which goes to show what fun | ^ad some new object in view and would ere long unite her fortunes with those it must be to be a novelist and have people happy when they ought to be Instead of w ? hen they are. The man’s theories about women? They haven’t changed a particle. "I’m giad my daughter is clever,” says the clover man. “I don’t have to marry her." Wouldn't you like to shake him? of her fellow-boarder, the doctor But though the young people were to all appearance very good friends, meet- | ing constantly at table and frequently | in the parlors as well, the anxious land j lady was soon assured by the physician's j abstracted and reticent air. and. as she j AgnesScottCoSlege DECATUR GEORGIA Session Opens Sept. 17th For Catalogue and Bulletin of Views Address the President, F. H. GAINES, D. D., LL. D. TAKE r h A h TR I p BY rail and ship Through coaches, Central of Georgia Railway For "• Cor. Peachtree and Marlelia Sir . Atlanta, oJ!*’