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A i Their Married Life By MABEL HERBERT URNER. Beauty Secrets of Beautiful Women BEHIND CLOSED DOORS A Host of Vah able Hints from Pretty Carrie Reynolds J UST ahead glittered the huge ele- tric sign “Maxim’s.” The six letters in the name of this famous Paris cafe flashed out and blazed into light one at a time. As they drew nearer Helen was Surprised to find the building itself rather small and unpretentious, but the waiting cabs, the lights and the loitering crowd gave the place an air of festivity. “There, you’ve always wanted to see a real bar—there’s your chance.” commented Warren, as they entered and were confronted by a large un screened bar which ran half way (utoss the room. Helen gazed with astonished in terest at the shining glasses, bottles and all the paraphernalia of a bar. which until now she had only glimpsed behind swinging doors. But even more astonishing than the unscreened bar were the three young women perched on high stools before It. They were all in decollete gowns, With their French heeled slippers hooked over the rounds of the high stools. Several men in evening dress laughed and chatted with them, and the white-coated attendants were busy pouring out drinks. “Now, if you want to sit up to a bar, here’s the chance of your life,” grinned Warren. But Helen was toe absorbed in ^studying the place and the women to make an indignant retort. A red- jacketed boy, with an opera cloak over bis arm and three silk hats car ried aloft on as many canes, came by now for Warren’s stick and hat, which he hoisted up with the others. "Guess that’s the liveliest room back ftnere.” and Warren led the way through to the main room beyond. Although it was only half-past eleven, which Warren said was “earlv for Maxim’s,” the place was well filled. The arrangement of the tables was curious, for they were placed along the walls, and the people sat behind them on leather-covered benches. In this way the guests sat side by side, and every one faced the center of the room, which was cleared for dancing. A large orchestra, in bright red uni forms. clashed a lively air. Only Champagne. Next to Helen was a girl in a flimsy pale, yellow gown, with a black eigret in her hair. As she leaned to wards the man beside her, Helen could see only her bare, powdered shoulders. “Let’s get rid of this fellow first,” frowned Warren, as a waiter hovered In front of them,” and then size up the place. “No prices here either,” glancing over the menu. "Well, let's gee,” musingly. "Welsh rarebit, Maxi- mette? Guess that’ll about do for us. What do you want to drink—claret lemonade? “Sorry, sir,” suavely Interrupted the waiter in perfect English, for all the waiters at Maxim’s speak several lan guages, "but we serve only champagne in this room. Other drinks you can get out front.” “So that’s your hold-up, is it? All right, we’re here and we’ll have to stand tor it,” taking up the wine card. “We could have seen just as much in the front room." protested Helen. /“It’s a shame to pay for^ champagne her a wine card, from hich she gave an order, and then calmly opened a cigarette case and lit a cigarette. "Surely ahe isn’t alone?” whispered Helen. "Don’t see anyone with her, do you? But don’t worry, she’ll not be alone long. Watch her size up the crowd,” as the girl under her penciled eye brows made a leisurely, almost In solent survey of the ro«>m. "Oh, is she one of the—the ‘demi monde’ you rea.d about?” asked Helen with breathless interest. “Wouldn’t be here alone-—If she wasn’t. Ah. that’s more like it!” as i couple now left their seat and waltzed out on the polished floor. The girl’s (dinging skirts wrapped around her silken ankles as she danced, and her satin slippers seemed hardly to touch the floor. Now other couples loft the tables and glided into the waltz. And it WAS a waltz, a graceful, swinging waltz, with none of the vulgarities of the turkey trot and bunny hug which one sees everywhere in New York. “Of course, the French dance well,” agreed Warren. “They’re not going to caper up and down and make mon keys of themselves just to follow some freakish fashion. Takes Americans to do that.” “Oh, do you suppose she knows him?” whispered Helen, as a tall Frenchman who now came in took a seat beside the woman in the shim mering spangled gown and began to talk to her. “Probably not,” shrugged Warren. More Ladies. It was getting late and more paint ed ladies came trailing in. They were all beautifully gowned and glittering with jewels—good jewelry, too! Won derful diamond pendants set in plati num gleamed on almost every bar® throat. All the women smoked cigarettes, most of them had jeweled cases cf their own, but some borrowed from the case of their escort. "What on earth are you doing?” scowled Warren. ‘‘Salt In cham pagne?” "But it’s so sickening sweet.” pro tested Helen, putting down the salt cellar. “You know I can’t bear cham pagne.” “Well, that’s a convenient, econom ical predilection that I’ll not discour age,” grinned Warren. "But, dear, now that we’ve complied with their rule and ordered cham pagne—couldn’t I have a claret-lem onade?” ,, .. . "We’ll see. Here.” signaling their waiter. "This lady doesn’t like cham pagne and wants a claret-lemonade. ’ "Sorry. sir, but we serve only champagne in this room. You can get a claret lemonade in the front room, sir.” - . “Well, when we move from here— it’ll not be into the front room, but OUT the front door. Get that? You can make a rule that everybody must order champagne, if you choose. But when they order it—it’s a blamed outrage that they can’t have any oth er drink they want. Get my check!” The waiter started a mumbled apology, but Warren cut him short. "This place’s a blamed fake. What have you got here to make people buy champagne? It’s all right when ; place pu-ts up a good show or some thing out of the ordinary. But you’ve got nothing but a played-out name Bring that check, I One of the Greatest Mystery Stories Ever Written I By ANNA KATHARINE GREEN. (Copyright, 1913, by Anna Katharine Green.) TO DAY’S INSTALLMENT. — - „ and your nerve! when neither of us like it. tell you •> Well, you’re the one who was keen "Oh, Warren, I’m sorry! I wish 1 on coming lo Maxim’s. We re here hadn’t said anything about the cham- now. and if there’s anything pagne," deplored Helen, who wanted to stay longer. vhlch I doubt, we’re going to see it! We’ll not sit out in any front room to save a few dollars.” \t every place was a silver cham ck . , . j mere s a uuztrn pnu.es in * pagne holder with its na £ kl ?" you can get the worth of yt bottle. Very few were having an>- j But you’ll not get it at ar thing to eat, but all were sipping As yet “Well, there’s nothing to see here. If you want this sort of thing— there’s a dozen places in Paris where r our money, any of these cut-and-dried joints—fixed up for the wine and smoking cigarettes. As yet t ^ L „' floor"space ‘was 1 dese’ned 1 except* fori Outside they were, greeted by the s-jarwnt Ja«ar* ‘ ! nvs-d Warren as he reached for a| “Come on." putting Helen into the match safe. “Told you Maxim’s VpuM nearest cab. “It's only half-past: he mettv tame They’ve made f their I twelve— Pans doesn t wake up until name fir wickedness—now ttfey’re | after one. I’ll take you to a place living on that reputation." 1 *hat Wat.son told me about. He says "But dear you said there’d be a : it s the real thing—hasn t been spoiled lot of ’ American sightseers—I don t • by the guidebooks.” Bee any Americans at all. "You don’t? How about that couple over there by the orchestra—that ■woman in the blue tailor-made. If she isn't a New England school marm seeing the 'sights of Paris,' I’ll eat my "But I thought one had to dress for the smart supper places here.’ laughed Helen, looking at the blue tailor-made. . , T . , , "Oh Maxim's isn’t ‘smart. It only has the name of being wicked—and it even isn’t that any more. You can wear anything here.” “What wonderful peaches. ex claimed Helen, as the waiter placed before them a box of six hothouse peaches packed in pink cotton. All Alone. “Um-m, wonderful price, too. Bet- Middle Course Needed. It was after dinner at the club, when, after dining well, and seated in the depths of an easy chair, con fidences were exchanged with im punity. Young Brown looked around cautiously before remarking: "My wife is so exceedingly nervous at night, Jones, that she scarcely I sleeps at all.” j “What’s she af*aid of? Burglars?” j answered Jones, laconically. "Yes.” "Well, you’ll have to expect that, I my boy. My wife was like that, i Every time she heard a noise down stairs she’d rout me out and send me at once to investigate, and it ended with me getting no sleep, as well as | herself. After a time, however, I con- By LILIAN LAUFERTY. D O you do your own houseworK, milady, and despise yourself for the doing? Do you loathe the simple routine of daily tasks, and feel sure that it will eventually net you parboiled red hands, and thick- lidded steamed eyes, and grimy dust laden hair? No, stop, look and listen to flaxen-haired Carrie Reynolds, who appears on the various stages of the Keith theaters under the management of Mr. Richard Lambert—and who still finds time to be the mistress anJ housekeeper and maid of a daint> four-room apartment out on River side Drive, New York City. From a long line of German an cestors Miss Reynolds has inheritel truly Teutonic flax-colored hair—an l ability as a “haus-frau.” Thrown in for good measure are sparkling tawny brown eyes, clear skin, a good figure and teeth that combine beauty and strength. Of course, Providence sent a few good fairies to the christening: but one of the most important on's was Good Dame Common Sense. Housework, enthusiasm, hard work and a goal ahead are Miss Reynolds’ sign posts to success in life and pul chritude. Splendid Exercise. “Now, you can’t think that any able-bodied woman would want a maid around to bother her in a littl four-room-and-bath apartment,” said Miss Reyonlds. "Think of all the splendid exercise going to waste in these days when one pound added to your weight just about means a gray Miss Carrie Reynolds. hair. Why, housework is wonderful for the figure—sweeping and bed making and basting a roast in th« oven are as good exercise as any gymnasium can offer you. Wield a broom for the benefit of arms, shoul ders and su-Ho waist muscles; go down on- the floor and scrub to strengthen your back; get in a glow of stimulated brood circulation from cleaning and sweeping and dusting and running the countless little er rands that the housekeeper knows. Work up an appetite to enjoy vour food and so ward off indigestion. Pre pare sane, healthy dishes of whoso benefit you are sure. And then look —I have not eaten candy in five years. It is not good for complexion or fig ure or teeth. And all these things are worth considering even at the cost of a few sweetmeats.” A Tooth Secret. "You probably show your teeth a little more consideration than just not eating candy. Won’t you tell me what separate benefits they have— since they can scarcely get much help from the housework?” said I. “Oh, I have a tooth secret, and I’m quite proud of it and quite as willing to pass ft along. I use four tooth- .... , j x j rrv» ♦ vmir n ,ri brushes! No, not a contortion act with joy anti delight at your_ own, aI| a ’ t a tlme _ Kach hruHh beauty of proud accomplishment, I am a poor guesser—that’s all!” "But, Miss Reynolds.” interposed the girl who interviews, “after all i HI C ilCAl uo.ifixr. i oiauu your housework, are you not fairly front of a mirrnr to c i eanse my tee ravenous and don t you have o 3 » and am an interested observer as so heartily that you must o * vvork the brush up and down to ma overtime to get the possible fata) pound of flesh off again?” “Well,” confessed Miss Reynolds,"! do not eat three meals a day. When I am out on tour or when l am liv- teeth four times per diem, and each brush works once in 24 hours and has all thfc time between to air and rest and grow sweet and clean be fore its next usage. And I stand in eeth 1 p and down to make -ure that I am going over the ground thoroughly. Housework and four toothbrushes — was the interview J worth while?” asked Miss Reynolds. And when you have tried house- ins in my own little home I have an ; wo rtan<i 7our too^hmshes I think 8 o’clock breakfast and a 5:30 dinner. | and though I become fairly ravenous in between I never indulge in any thing more fat-producing that a glass of grape juice. Th^it is my staff when I am hungry between meals: but I am now accustomed to hut two meal a day. And at those meals, potatoes gravies and white breads must b< among those absent. And no sweets that you will agree was. with me that It And so another week went by. But the next was not destined to pass without an event. As Mr. Gryce was deliberating at his own house one morning a stranger entered, in whose important air and courteous but myste rious manner he read news. ‘ Are you the detective, Gryce?” this person asked. "That is my name and calling,” was the ready answer. - "I have a line or two here which I will trouble you to read.” said the gen tleman, handing him a note. It was from the superintendent of po lice, and ran thus: "Listen to what the bearer of this has to say. He will undoubtedly Interest yoy." "May I inquire your name?” inquired Mr. Gryce. The stranger nodded and gave it. It was one well known In the Union League, and Mr. Gryce, upon hearing It. looked with renewed Interest at Its owner, w’hose face and form were of a marked elegance almost approaching dandyism. New Facts. “Your huslness?’’ the detective now asked, laconically, but not ungraciously. This young scion of one of New York’s oldesi families had never forfeited the respect of any one. Indeed, he was very favorably known as a young man cf great good nature and unquestioned honor. The young gentleman posed himself-^ he was not above producing small ef fects and then quietly remarked: "There was an inquest held not long ago over the remains of a young girl who died from poison. Mildred Farley was her name.” Mr. Gryce nodded He had no diffi culty In hiding his Intense and sudden interest, for hit confidant at this junc ture was the elegant seal which hung from the watch chain of his visitor, and that seal was a sphinx. "I read the account of that inquest," continued the young man. "and one statement made by the gentleman who professed to know the most about the matter was false” "\h! let us hear.” returned Mr. Gryce. "He said, if you remember, that he found the young woman on a stoop in Twenty-second street, and that he lifted her up to carry her to his phaeton, v hen a bottle fell from her hand to the sidewalk and broke.” "I remember.” "As that bottle had held poison and just the poison from W’hich the young girl is known to have died, it is a mat ter of some importance, I presume, to know the exact truth about It." "It certainly is, Mr. K .” The young gentleman took another at titude, less graceful but more Impressive than the first. "I can tell you something about It,” he affirmed; "I w r as there." “There?” i "I had been—well, it does not matter where, but in a place where I do not smoke and where I should consider it the height of ill manners to light a cigar till I had shut the street door behind me. I therefore prepared to do this in the vestibule, and It being rather a windy night, I had withdrawn into a corner behind the partly closed door when I heard the sound of wheels, and the next moment the slight but un mistakable noise of a small bottle shiv ering to pieces on the pavement be fore me. Not understanding the matter, I felt curious, and, looking out, beheld the doctor’s phaeton just beyond the I house going in the direction of Broad j way. It had not stopped in passing and no young woman had been lifted from j the steps. For I had glanced down them j the moment before and they were en tirely unoccupied. I stepped op some of the pieces of that broken phial as I went on my way, and I remember the smell that arose from them dis tinctly. It was that of bitter al monds.” • “I am sure I am verv much obliged to you," rejoined Mr. Gryce. "It is cer tainly an important piece of evidence I will not ask why It was not given us before.” "But I will tell you." responded the other frankly. "I am not much In the habit of mixing In police matters and 1 had a natural disinclination to put myself forward. So I let the affair go by But conscience wois too much for me at last. I took my Information to the superintendent of police, and he sent me here. That is the history of the matter.” "I accept it,” was Mr. Gryce’s re sponse, "and 1 only ask you to be as careful In the future as In the past Let these facts be considered as ours alone, sir." "I would be very happy to do this, hut unfortunately I was more ready to speak to my friends than I was to the officers of the law. Several members of my club know what I have just told you. and while this Is to be regretted, perhaps, it is also the real cause of my being here. For it was in my talk to them that I was led to see the harm which might ensue upon my silence. I will talk no more about It in the fu ture, however." "And I will be much obliged.” re marked Mr. Gryce. As soon as possible after he Tiad dis missed his visitor the detective went ^lown to police headquarters. He had a talk with the superintendent and that same day at an hour when he knew* he should find Hr. Molesworth at home he went to see him with a writ of arrest in his pocket. The Darkening Cloud. A SQUARE, dull-looking room with two^dlm windows facing a high brick wall; a large table covered with phials, boxes of Instruments, writing materials and a fow r books; a black hair-cloth sofa and two chairs; a dingy carpet and a ceiling which has been unwhitened for years: at the table and confronting ihe only bright thing in the room, a hard coal fire, the stern, immovable figure of a man buried In the deepest thought. Such is .Julius Molesworth’s office and such the ap pearance of Julius Molesworth himself on the afternoon of this, his most mo mentous day. But first, what is he brooding over? Such intentness and absorption argue the existence of some heavy subject on. his mind. The opportunity of his life was be fore him, and he felt bound to Improve It. Was he meditating upon this case and determining just what his course of treatment should be as he sat there before the fire? His gradually lighten ing brow seemed to say yes, and the startling fervor with which he sudden ly broke the spell which bound him and arose told of a secret found rather than a secret buried. "Yes, it is”—he cried—“In small but oft-repeated doses. I would willingly stake my life upon it.” And raising his head, he suddenly dis cerned in the looking glass which hung opposite him over the mantelpiece a face turned toward him from the open door, which though quiet and composed in every feature, had yet that something in it which tells the observer that, ex pected or unexpected, his hour has come, and the hopes which he has cher ished are vainer than the vainest show. The Arrest. He saw this face, I say, but he did not at once turn. *11-2 ha<: a shock to get over, a course to be resolved upon. When he did turn, it was with cour tesy and a slight show of surprise. "Excuse me," said he, "I do not re ceive patients at this hour.” "1 am not a patient,” returned Mr. Gryce. The doctor gazed slowly round his room. He did not love It, but It held his all, and there was not an object within it but spoke to his soul of some cherished ambition or secret all-ab sorbing wish. "But you have some business’ I recollect year face, but I can not place you.” "My face is of no account: my busi ness is. Hr. Molesworth. you are a physician of an unrelenting school: the fewest words will answer with you. J am an officer armed with a warrant and I have come to arrest you as the suspected murderer of Mildred Farley.” The doctor, who had been standing with his back to the table, turned slightly and took up a paper lying there. There were a few words writ ten on it. ami he read them before he gave the detective that slight bow which was his only answer to this dread announcement. "I am charged with placing you in custody,” continued the detective; but if there Is anything you wish to do ” “I would like a half-hour,” the doc tor responded firmly. "I have a cas^* —his voice broke; he turned to hfs desk and sat down. "Don’t interrupt me.” he said, laying down the paper he held and taking up his pen. "I have some memoranda to make. They are important -a matter of life and death to one poor woman.” “Write,” said the detective: “I am no gabbler.” And Dr. Molesworth wrote, calmly, thoughtfully, with entire absorption in his subject, or so It seemed to the eye who saw all. though it dwelt only on a vial marked "Poison" that stood on the doctor’s table. Nor did that same eye detect any break in this extraor dinary calmness when, the last word written, the physician turned and hand ing him the paper, said: "It will probably prove unintelli gible to you, but It can be easily read bv any physician. Ke«*p~it till I ask you for it.” Then he turned again to his table and wrote three or four letters, afl of which he handed over to the other for Inspection, before sealing and directing them. When all this was done, he rose, and confronting the detective, ob served : "Now I am ready to go with you. The question is where will you take me. You have arrested me on sus picion of murder; for this you must have good reasons, better reasons than appeared at the Inquest, or you would not have delayed this arrest. I will not question them, I will only say that your evidence against me Is circum stantial, must be. since I did not do this deed, and as circumstantial evi dence Is never absolute proof, you are doing me a great injustice by this ac tion, and ,my patients an irreparable harm. But you are not the principal In this matter and I will not argue with you concerning my innocence, but only ask one favor in return for the possible wrong you do me. This is the privilege of a short interview with a person l am willing to name and whom I only desire to see in your presence and. if you wish, in your hearing." To Be Continued To-morrow. The Beet Flnlahlnf *nd Enlarg- | Inn That Can Bo ProdiMwd.'* Kaetman Films and com plete sUvk amateur supplies. , Ire for 0M» -of t .v-ri eua». rr.»rs i 'Send for Catalog and Prlco Ul«t. j A. K HAWKES CO. 14 White hail St., Atlanta, G a. | into tho house he wouldn’t make any noise at all.” "That’s rather a good idea!”' ex claimed the young one. "I’ve a good mind to try that myself.” “Don’t do it." pleaded Jones. “Wom en never listen to logic, for if your wife’s anything like mine she’ll wor- ter wait till we pass a fruitstand on v j nce( j h er that if a burglar did get the w*ay home. You’ll pay from i o 10 francs for one of those. There’s a Gtorv about a Chicago man who came /over here, ate one of Maxim'S peaches and had to cable home for money.’’ ••Oh. look at that girl crushing those strawberries in her champagne!" •‘Hope that fellow’s pocketbook can m taiMS ollc stand the bill,” commented ^arren. j ry every time she doesn’t hear a noise for in the leaf-lined box which had « downstairs!” evidently held six huge berries onlv | two remained. /. The crushing- of these expensive fruits in champagne seemed a favorite trick at Maxim’s, for strawberries and peaches were being crushed into ma!)'. glasses by jeweled fingers. A little [ flat-end stick was used, and one was j laid suggestively by each box of fruit, j Everyone turned tojlook^at^a strlk- N Mex | eo . not Ion(t a(fo Have Mercy on Mother By BEATRICE FAIRFAX. Facts in Nature srs * ss !S|§| Lj'OR centuries ; t has been known that Nature’s most valuable health giv- v A . ing agents for the cure of disease are found in our American forests. ^ Over forty years ago Dr. R. V. Pierce, chief consulting phy*ician to the Invalids’ ’ Hotel and Surgical Institute at Buffalo, N.Y., used the powdered extracts as well as the liquid extracts of native medicinal plants, auch as Bloodroot and Queen's root. Golden Seal and Stone root, Cherry nark and Mandrake, for the cure of blood diseases. This prescription as put up in liquid form was called DR. PIERCE’S I F someone did not occasionally point to the burden on every Mother’s shoulders, the world would forget she carried one, for she never complains. Could she have thur longing of her heart gratified, her burden would always remain invisible j to those she loves. She is happy so long as the burden ! rests on her back. It is when neg work of Mother’s hands. Every cal! made upon Mother from May till Sep tember seems to carry a hot fire with it. There is no one who can do these things but Mother. No one will du them hut Mother, and many girls argue there is no one who SHOULD do them but Mother. It is to these girls the "lea is made; have mercy on Mother! She will not lect and inappreciation from her chii- ask for herself; she will not seek i Qolden ]Vfedical fjiscovery and has enjoyed a large sale for all these years in every drug store in the land. You can now obtain the powdered extract in sugar-conf.ed tablet form of Ji rS a (J $ s a n r3 r5 a 9 a your medicine dealer, or send 60c in one-cent postage stamps for trial box to' Dr. Pierce’s Invalids’ Hotel, Buffalo, N.Y., and tablets will be mailed, postage prepaid. The “Golden Medical Discovery” makes rich, red blood, invigorates the stomach, liver and bowels and through them the whole system. Skin affections, blotches, boils, pimples and eruptions—result of bad blood —are eradicated by this alterative extract-'-as thousands have testified. *Tf T??f * 17* lect and inappreciation from heremi- *' ‘ ’• ‘ The Mexican View >•• her heart that {‘br^r^ac!^ Z"l " .v;" By MINNA IRVING. ing woman in a shimmering spangled gown. Who now swept in unescorted. The waiter who seated her hande Palmer’s Skin Whitener Bleaches Dark Skin Removes Freckles Tans, Sallowness and Skin Eruptions. Postpaid0 5 C Anywhere Ail Jacobs’ Stores And Druggists Generally. I We used to bait the bull, With much beribboned little darts We stuck his carcass full. But now we have a grander sport— The gringo is our game; Such loads of fun we have with him, It makes the bull-fight tame. We take the bold American And hit him on the head, Or slice him up in little strips, Or pepper him with lead, Or shut him in a dungeon cell, Pretend to set him free, T^en stab him neatly in the back. Or hang him from a tree. The Yankee navy loafs around, Their capitans talk big, | But pooh! These gringoes only have The spirit of a pig. Si, Senor, they’re afraid of us No matter what they say. Our ccchero could snap his whip, S And they would run away. her sorrow begins. Mother is in need of mercy all the year, and her need is particularly great in the hot days of summer. It is then that husband and children seek every bit of cool air in the house and out, and Mother is left in the kitchen. The steam from the cooking vegetables, the wave of hot air from • they be of a fashion the oven where the strawberry short-J and easy to launder cake the family demands is turning a delicate brown; the heat curling up from the iron that is pressing oui daughter’s dainty white dress—all these, if Justice is done, are some where. in a world not visible to mortal eyes, turning into the smoke of in cense before Mother's shrine. There must be more garments in summer, which means more making, more mending and a larger pile for the laundry, and Mother has only th? two hands she has at other seasons, and the strength poured into them is not so great. There are preserves, and jams. anJ Jellies to be made, all labor that calls for a hot fire; there are basting and beating and stirring, all exertion thy: quickens £he blood and adds to th ‘ heat, which is already intolerable. The puddings and cakes and pD* which Daughter spreads on a coni, mossy picnic bank in the evening were prepared in a hot, steamy kitchen in the morning, and they represent the that fiery furnace of love and serv commonly called the kitchen, and suf fer there all day that her family mav have all the comforts of midsummer without paying the price. A girl must have wash dresses in summer. She owes that to herself, and she owes it to her mother that asy to make Fruits are a summer joy and a necessity, but the benefit gained is lost if the fruit is smothered between rich rie crust that | increases the heat of tire k'tchen in j it? making, and the heat of the body in i*s digestion. The office downtown was hot all day, and the girl who has no mercy on Mother complains all evening be cause she had to work in it, taking into no account that the hottest office in town is a delightfu"v cool sum mer resort compared with the kitchen at home. And all Mother gets in pay is her board and* clothes, a great deal of compialnt, and an occasional scrap of love which she glorifh s and hues to her breast, and magnifies after the manner of ah mothers. Have mercy on Mother! Lessen h«r I labors and Increase her wages. Pay no heed to the foolish longing of t fond heart that would be satisfied if paid in love alone, but see that she gets more. I Sead 31 one-cent stamp* to pay cost of mailing only on a free copy of Dr. ^ Pieice’a Common Sense Medical Adviser, 1008 pages, clothbound ADDRESS DR. R. V. PIERCE, BUFFALO, N. Y. —■“T- - .i " ^ r , S-H5a5E5R525H5E5I’5E5R5-B5R7a5'c5Hi-^direg5H£jR5R5a£: : 2 The Call of the North Woods WASHINGTON SEMINARY 1374 P>.At HTKEF, HOAD • ATLANTA THE SOUTH’S MOST BEAUTIFUL SCHOOL i uriTiACTi VE i I Boarding Department limited >100,000.09 in Ground® and Buildings. 2. New School Building, modern In equipment, with provision for open-air clas8 rooms. 3 Courser in Domestic Science and Physical Tn*lnlng a part of regular cur riculum \ Department®: Kindergarten. Primary, Academic. College Preparatory, ~~ Music Art, Expression. TH • Session begins SEPTEMBER 11th. 1913 V.. ' vi t.ii iiiiniTMril^^in • -Principals. *J Have you ever felt the thrill of an out-of-doors vacation — a few weeks of real life by the side of some picturesque ’ake — away from everything that savors of your daily toil ? <| From the Great North Woods of Wisconsin and Northern Michigan Wild Nature — innumerable beauti ful lakes and streams — the breath of the pine — the gamy bass — the vicious muskellunge — the ajple trout and the toothsome pike—send out a call that “the man who knows” finds hard to resist. <J Each summer he returns to the scene of his last year’s sport; each summer the appeal reaches many more who have not known the charms of this region. ^1 Why don’t you arrange to go? Take a holiday in this wonderful country• whtre a thousand 11 arkling lakes t teeming with gamy fish await you. For full particulars apply to ticket agents or address Chicago and North Western Ry. N. M. BREEZE, G. A. 434 Walnut St., Cincinnati, Ohio (j Wm3S .a5B5?-5R5E555S£R5B5 'E25a5agRSaki2.i?,5H5RSii^LJ25aS?l^ V , -J