Newspaper Page Text
By Virginia T. Van De Water.
CHAPTER XXVII
O BEDIENT to her husband'll sug
gestion, Mary Fletcher tried to
get a maid from the Ht\ First
fit all she visited many employment
agencies. At each she was received
with a amlla of welcome by the person
In charge, but that smile was replaced
by a look of Incredulous fur prise when.
In reply to the question “What wages
do you pay?" Mary responded “Twelve
dollars."
“My dear madam'" exclaimed one j
such agent. “Excuse me. but you can
not get any girl, white or colored, to
do general housework for that price
But." said Mary tentatively, ’ sup- |
pose I get a green and inexperienced
girl, and teach her everything, and help
her with the work what wages would
she come for?"
Lady Constance Stewart Richardson
GREATEST STORY OF ITS
How to Acquire a Beautiful Figure Through Dancing
The two exercises -rjw
pictured to-day show ,/IA
classic dancing steps if ^ t
intended to produce
suppleness of limbs
and waist.
Might Advertise.
said hastily,
you deserved
*
"Certainly for not less than eighteen
dollars at the lowest." replied the
agent. “And If you wish one to go to
a lonely place in the country, you will
have to pay more."
After many such fruitless efforts,
Mary ceased visiting Intelligence offices
“You might advertise,” her mother
suggested when Mary recounted her ex
perience to her “I used to g*»t good
maids in that way. Rut. then. I paid
very good wages. -tout dear father
always Insisted, you know, on having
me get the best of everything- servants
included. ’
Mary winced at the unintentional
thrust, then forgot her own discom
fiture as she saw the tears In her
mother's eyes.
“1 know. dear." she
"and he was right for
the best of everything But you must
remember. mother, that father had
more money than Bert has
“Oh. I know. 1 know,” the widow >
responded quickly. "Dear child, don't
fancy for a moment that I meant to
criticise your husband. He has, of
course, derived many of his ideas from
his mother, and pardon me. Mary— |
but she has not lived as we have, so
she is to be excused if she has taught
her son to feel that women ought to do
their own work. Naturally, as Bert is
* good son, he takes her tone. I do
not blame him."
“Of course not," her daughter as
sented. In her own heart she was won
dering If she, this man's wife, could
bay as much.
“Your husband is very kind to me,” '
remarked Mrs Danforth, somewhat Ir
relevantly. “I ought to be happy ”
Hut was she” M*ary pondered Old
she not think that perhaps her daugh
ter was not as content as she would
like her to be? Did she not suspect
that Mary did not love the man to
whom she was married? And, If so,
could She be happy she. the mother
who had taught her child that a love
less marriage was a sin?
Her Cheerful Voice.
As if reading the unspoken thought,
Mrs. Din forth took her daughter's hand
tenderly In hers “Tell me, darling,"
she said, wistfully, "are you satisfied?
Are you worried about anything?
Sometimes I almost fear that you are a
little disappointed about something 1
The young wife put her arms around
her mother and drew the gray head
down to her shoulder
"IJttie mother." she said, her voice
determinedly cheerful. "what notions
you do get! Why should 1 not be happy
here In this cozy little cottage, with the
best mother that ever lived, and the
man I have chosen out of all the world?
Dear mother." with a light laugh, why
should I have married Bert if I did hot
want to?"
The mother laughed, too. and there
was a ring of relief in the sound.
“Of course, dear! Why, Indeed? For
give your silly old mother -but I love
you so much that if you were not hap
py why, I Just could not stand It!"
She ended with a little sob, and the
daughter held her closer.
“You believe now that 1 am happy,
don’t you. dear*" Mary asked
“Oh, yes. 1 believe it now," said the
widow tremulously, “and you don't know
w hat a comfort it is to be sure of It."
With her head still on Mary’s shoul
der she did not look tip at the sad eyes
gazing out of the window, nor did she
see the bitter smile lhat twisted the
y oung lips. In a moment the wife’s face
was again placid, and she smile,! on
leaving her mother, making the pretext
lhat she had "some work to do down
stairs.'’
She <1 id not go downstairs at once
Instead, she turned into her own room
and closed the door. But she did not.
as she would have done in her girlhood
days, fling herself upon the bed and
give wav to her misery. Instead, she
went to the window and looked out into
the July sunshine But she was looking
Into her heart, not into the summer
noon.
“Good Lord'" she whispered, "what a
liar 1 have become' A liar both in
speech and life!
She stood motionless a moment longer,
then lifted her head with a gesture of
decision -almost of defiance
"But I won't look hack." she mut
tered "I have made my bed and must
lie on it—even If it is made of thorns
At all events, mother is comfortable
and cared for."
She Had Learned.
Advertisements for domestics at the
price named by Herbert Fletcher and his
mother proved useless As a final re
sort, Mary engaged one so-called “help
er" after another from the village, but
each was so Inefficient that this trial
was abandoned The young housewife
had learned that to secure good service
one must pay an adequate price for It—
aim that even then one might fad to
obtain it.
So it came about that at last Mary
Fletcher did the work of her own house,
hiring a woman from the village for
two days a week to "wash, iron and
scrub." and even then she had to sup
plement her at ever' turn It was
taken as a matter of course that the
wife should help hang out the clothes
and assist with the ironing She told
her mother that she "enjoyed the novel
task " In fact. tha» she thought the ex
ercise ar*i fresh air good for her Her
husband d»d not protest Why should
he* HI* own mother had always done
that kind of work.
THE TUNNEL KIND SINCE JULES VERNE
WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE
The story opens with Rives, who Is In charge of t^e ICchri,. rtl work
ings of the gr#-a» tunnel from America to Germany, or one of the tunnel i
trains, with Haermann. an engineer. In charge of Main Station No. 4 They
are traveling at the rate of 118 miles an hour Hives is in love with j
Maude Allan, wife of Mackendrick Allan, whose mind first conceived the i
great tunnel scheme After going about 2."»0 miles under the Atlantic Ocean.
Hives getm out of the train. Suddenly the tunnel seems to burst There
is a frightful explosion Men are flung to death and Rives Is badly wounded. 1
He staggers through the blinding smoke, realizing that about .1.000 men
have probably perished He and oher survivors get to Station No. 4
Hives finds Haermann holding at bay a wild mob of frantic men who want
to climb on a work train somebody shoots Haermann. and the train slides out.
Tho scene is then changed to the roof of the Hotel Atlantic. The greatest !
financiers of the country are gathered there at a summons from C. II.
Lloyd, "The Money King " John Rives addresses them, and introduces Al
lan Mrs Allan ami Maude Lloyd, daughter of the financier, are also pres
ent. Allan tells the company of his project for a lunnel 3.100 miles long.
The financiers agree to back him. Allan and Rives want him to take charge
of the actual work Rives accepts. Hives poes to the Hark Club to meet Wlt-
fersteiner. a financier At Columbus Circle news of the great project is being
flashed on a screen. Thousands are watching it.
Now Go On With the Story.
(from th* Herman «f Bemtord Rtllernunn—
aerfflan »#r*1r»n Copyrighted. 1918. by s.
Fiarher Verlag. Berlin. English translation and
tfMttpilatltri by
These I’ietuves
Were Espe
cially Posed
for this
Pa«e.
By LADY CONSTANCE STEWART
RICHARDSON.
(Copyright. 1913, by International
News Service.)
O NE of your great Americans sang
in an exquisite little poem of
"The glory that was Greece;
the grandeur that was Home." The
glory and grandeur of these nations
were founded not only on their art
and culture and prowess ns warriors,
but on n basic condition that male
brains and power reach a great height
of perfection on the sublimity nnd
healthy beauty of the human body.
When laziness and high livin'
weakened (ho bodies of the Greeks
and Romans, decline and fall were
near. But In the flower of their na
tional health and youth the bodies of
the Greeks nnd Latins W'ere physi
cally splendid, nnd the endowment • f
mental power followed physical
health.
In these simple facts there lies a
great lesson for u& of to-day. In
bodily health and strength lie the
power of the individual nnd the health
of the nation hh well. I have said so
often and am always glad to say
again that in the beautiful classic
dances that have come down to us
from the ancients lies the simplest se
cret of bodily' grace. But to-da> 1
want to add a few principles of boditv
health and care that are practh
necessity by the professional dancer,
and that the bodily beauty-seeker
would do wejl to emulate.
Begin by training children so that
their muscles will fall naturally, In
foot inn or repose, into graceful lines.
Teach them that food Is very im
portant in one way nnd of no conse
quence in another. Food must nourish
the body and give it strength, but be
ware the* pleasurefuT-overeating of
tlie well - nourished. Ml-proportioned
gourmet.
Food and Mood.
Now. you could dam •• a cancan or
a breakdown however you hated the
world and indigestion surely pro
duces misanthropy but you have to
be in harmony with life to express
poetry in dancing. So, since mood
affects dancing and food affects mood,
this little cycle will make the classi
cal dancer careful of the dower >f
health that spare, sane, sensible, eat
ing produces
For breakfast 1 have coffee and hot
milk, for lunch fruit and one nourish
ing solid and my simple dinner is
guiltless of sweets. Clothes I regard
as covering and not as trammeling
ornaments that interfere with free
dom of movement or deep breathing.
Perehaps if 1 convert a few of mv
readers to a love for and a belief in
the graceful movements of the clas
sic dance, I shall at the same time
make converts to the healthful joys •)?
simple living, of deep breathing and
of high thinking.
To-day I will tell you about two
little movements of the dance that
may be done at home without music
ami to the slower tempo of the walk.
Try them for general bodily grace
and ease of motion.
The first picture shows a very sim
ple equally pretty figure, and for sup
pleness of arms and legs and waist
it counts as strongly ns it does for
lightly poised and carried head and
body . Advance with the head carried
high above the column of the throat
and the lifted chin. Sway slightly
from the waist as you swing the arms
in the arc of a circle; left arm is for
ward slightly above the shoulder
height as the weight advances for
ward to the light foot, and at the
same time the right arm is stretched
back In a straight line and lowered
from shoulder to w rist until the hand
is just at the lino of the hip. Do this
with gradually increasing tempo, un
til the springy walking motion lias
become a light dancing step. Fifteen
minutes of this night and morning-
will give great grace and resiliency' j
to your ordinary gait.
The second picture brings the back !
and shoulder muscles into play and
exercises the throat. In other essen
tials it has the basic principles and
advantages of the first exercise. Ad
vance as before. This time the for
ward motion Ik first on the left and
then on the right side of the body'
nnd thus great muscular co-ordination
Is assured oft* the devotee of this ax
is assured for the devotee of this ex-
elbows close to the waist line and the
hands relaxed In easy lines from the
wrist. Sway head and arm from sld*
to side as tbc body pivots slightly
from the waist muscles and the feet
advance in the lifted prancing step of
the dance.
“More power to ye," says my neigh
bors of Erin's Isle, in kindly greet
ing. To you—my’ neighbors across
the sea- 1 say it, too. "More power to
you;" and may the principles of the
classical dancing I have so earnestly j
studied arid so earnestly love, bring j
you beauty and grace and power to i
live gloriously and well.
A TALE OF LOST CHERUBS
“T
*>FTF, Gudgeon children are
lost!" panted Mrs. Sprinkle
as she flung open the screen
door unceremoniously and burtt in
upon the Lifflek family, variously dis
posed in hammocks and sprawly
chairs
"W'h where?" demanded Lifflek in
telligently as he awoke from a peace
ful dream.
"M> goodness!” cried Mrs. Lifflek.
Again *"
'They're truly lost." explained Mrs.
Sprinkle, excitedly. "And we want
you to come and help find them. They
are sending partis* In every direct! >n
through the woods nnd they’re going
to telephone the life-saving crew to
rag tnd I < Lc
“Did the boat tip over?" asked
Lifflek, now entirely awakened, as he
reached f<A his rap.
Mrs Sprinkle heaved an exasper
ated sigh. "If they re lost, she said,
succinctly, "they might possibly oe
drowned mightn't they" We don't
want to leave any stone unturned.
Dire Thoughts.
"Mrs. Gudgeon left Imogene and
Harry playing just as nicely under
the trees beside their cottage while
she walked down to the pier to fish.’’
related Mrs. Sprinkle, "and they were
gone when she came back in an hour.
She has called and called for them,
and they are nowhere within a mile!
Imogene had such beautiful eyes, too*
Maybe gypsies —“
"It will break their mother's heart!”
said Mrs. Lifflek. "How perfectly ter
rible' I'm sorry 1 sc olded Harry for
breaking «»fT all mv geraniums! An!
the time be scalded our cat - 1 might
have made loss hnish remarks to him.
Suppose they ve fallen down that old
quarry pit! Arthur, you go right over
In that direction and see! It's on!'
four miles!'*
Lifflek, starting off, ran into sev
eral other men frflfn the various cot
tages bound on the lump errand.
"It looks serious." said Tilton with
a shake of his head. "Kids like that
and so venturesome! There’s a dozen
things that might have happened t<*
them! I’m bound for the creek bank,
where it is so marshy ’ There’s quick
sand there."
The whole summer colony was soon
deserted. Everybody had gone to
hunt for the Gudgeon children, whose
various sins of commission were now
tenderly covered by the v**il of charit
able anxiety. Mrs Gudgeon alter
nately wept at home and darted out
on spasmodic hunts. Again she would
wander around the cottage making
the air rnlg with the names of the
missing ones. There was no answer.
“Harrv might have grown up to be
President some day!" said Mrs. Lif
flek ‘ mournfully. "They say these
mischievous little children always
turn out so well. Dear little lmo-
gene"
"You said she was a hateful child,
mother, when she cut hole* In your
new embroidered waist,” put in Sally
Lifflek, who was tagging around that
she might miss none of the excite
ment.
"Sally, you go straight home!”
commanded her mother "Haven't you
any sympathy at all? The idea?"
One by one the searchers staggered
in toward dusk Each had the same
tale of disappointment and each was
dusty and thirsty and hungry and de
spairing.
“Something per-perfectly awful
must have happened to them, because
every inch of the woods has been
searched!" said Mrs. Sprinkle. "Poor
Mrs Gudgeon! Harry was such a
brilliant child!"
"1 always said imogene would turn
out a beauty, too. put in Mrs. Tilton.
“It’s hard!"
“There never were such darling
children in the whole world!" their
mother informed everybody between
sobs “Oh, where are my babies?
Just to get my arms around them"—
Harry Found.
(CcprTlfhtW, ltli, by laUmattoml News Service.)-
Before daylight two thousand more
men arrived, and with them began
the endless stream of freight. Hives
began to feel like a swimmer who has
been burking a tide-rip. But he asked
that the pace be increased, rnd he
shut his teeth and Jumped in. Twen
ty lieutenants worked'on his imme
diate staff, all of them young men,
but all of them chosen for the rut of
their jaws and (he cleanness of their
records in stress and storm and strife.
And Hives worked them as hard as he
worked himself. He gave no instruc
tions. There was not time for that.
Me told each man w’hat was to be
done in a few curt sentences and left
the doing of it to him.
That third night a terrific thunder
storm broke up the beat wave. It
came down in a terrific gale, and the
first thunderbolt fired a freight shed
where 500 cots were stacked to the
roof, as there had been no tim® to un
pack them that night. Before the
fire got well under way, the wind
ripped the hurtling roof off. and then
came the deluge. When day broke.
Rives found that about a third of his
Jerry-built houses had collapsed-—
and the flood of materials and men
from Toms River set in as before.
It was a terrible setback, but he
shook his head and went at it as If
nothing had happened, and his men
hacked him with the easy energy and
resource of men long accustomed to
uneven warfare with Nature. That
day Tunnel City looked like a Storm-
swept mining camp. Two days later
it was like the temporary camp of
the great army. At the end of ten
days It was a city With concrete
houses and streets and electric lights
and sewerage -a city of 20.000 men
with a post office, a telephone system,
two railroad depots, bakeries, dairies,
abattoirs, stores, saloons and a hos
pital.
And over everything, the discour
aged and drooping trees and the few
scattered clumps of bushes, the win
dow sills and the roofs, W0s the
thick white dust of the cement that
had made the miracle possible.
Rages of this and many succeecT-
ing issues of this paper might be
filled with the details of the wonders
of energy and tlie mighty toll of
those, summed months on the Jersey
coast. And in fdiif Other spots on
the ffleg of the earth similar scenes
were beitig enacted. But terrific as
were the results, grandiose the scale,
the details must needs be tiresome,
for after all they were only digging
a hole in the earth. In this, as in all
other matters of great moment,-, it is
well to trust to the trained and not
the technical observer Edgar Hark-
ness. the star man of The New York
Evening Journal staff, was at the
works from the day the first man
reached there. Looking over the files
of the paper for that sumtner t came
upon a special article he wrote de
scribing the progress of the Wofk
You can gather some idea of the
tremendous undertaking from his
picturesque but vigorous English:
“This place of bedlam,” he wrote,
in part, under date of Heptember 11.
of that year, “looks as If it were go
ld* up In smoke. To-day the cloud
above it is so dense that electric
discharges like heat lightning flash
across it and there is always a mut
tering like distant thunder, while be
neath its edges a deep blue horizon
tells that elsewhere the sun is shin
ing. Beneath the Tunnel City roars
and shouts explodes, whistles, thun
ders and yells.
"From the midst of the pandemo
nium and settling over everything
like a white sea-fog rises a mon
strous white column of dust to join
the black smoke canopy overhead.
Meeting the heavy blackness it seems
to spread and#mlng!e with it, form
ing a cloud such as observed at the
eruptions of volcanoes. Pressed down
by the colder air above it spreads like
» gigantic umbrella, and little shreds
are whirled Away by puffs of the sea-
wa’rd breeze.
There was a shriek and a scuffle I
from the little cellar under the Gud
geon house and everybody rushed to j
see.
The Gudgeon cook was dragging
Harry out from the depths of the po
tato bin. while Imogene was unroll
ing herself from a pile of old carpet- \
Ing The assembled searchers and i
their parents stared, voiceless.
"We wuz playing biding from the
Indians." vouchsafed Harry. "You
made awful good Indians—you yelled j
so! “
As Gudgeon reached for Harry with
an arm motion that promised a lay
ing over hijvTuiee, w hile Mrs. Gudgeon
did likewise with her darling daugh
ter. the searchers melted away.
"Wow!” said IJffick as Juvenile
wails rent the air “That sounds good
to me! Four miles to the stone quar
ry anil back!”
<<C H,r
O
Yield to Baby.
One afternoon not long ago in the
vicinity of Grant Park there might have
been seen a young man industriously
pushing up and down a baby carriage,
intently reading a book the while.
"Henry' Henry!” called a young
woman from the second story of a
house opposite.
Henry heard It, but continued to push
the baby carriage and to read his book.
In about an hour the cries for "Hen
ry" were repeated.
"Well, what do you want*” he de
manded, rather impatiently.
"Nothing, dear " was the irritating
response, “except to inform you that
you've been wheeling Harriet's doll all
the afternoon I think it's time for
the baby to have a turn now.”
P captains report that when
ere is a stead.v off-shore
wind this dust forms white
sium on the ocean for miles, and
New Yorkers know the source of the
nuisance that turns their blue serge
suits gray.”
Here Mr. Harkness drifts off tem
porarily to little things that were im
portant for the day only, and then
goes on to report the progress of the
actual work.
"The place of construction, follow
ing its fixed width of twelve hundred
feet, is now nearly the finishing of a
straight inland cut of three miles. It
is laid out in long terraces so that
the construction trains can hold to
easy grades until they reach the last
level, which will be 600 feet below
the level of the Aea. Here the actual
sinking of the tunnel Itself will begin
"But the day before yesterday this
place was a sandy heath, half re
claimed from barrenness. Swiftly it
became a gravel pit, a quarry, and at
last a monster chasm that swarms
seemingly w ith Insect life. Queer lit
tle busy beings covered with white
dust that dig and growl and grovel
and toll, gray-faced and dusty-haired.
"Twenty thousand of them hurl
themselves into this mighty ravine
every day. Their drills and picks and
shovels glitter like the sunlight on a
lake A whistle shrieks a warning, n
column of dust rises to join the vast
cloud overhead, a colossus of «tdhe.
wrenched by dynamite from its grip
of earth, swerves outward and falls
with a thundering roar. Another puff
of dust leaps up and the insects ^warm
into it.
"As far as eye tan reach down that
long incline into the bowels of the
earth these puffs that tell of terrific
blasts are shooting up. Great dredges,
attacking the quicksand, shriek and
whine a« they suck up liquid death.
The chain pump* groan and rattle.
Derricks and steam shovels whirr and
dip. Aerial carts whizz past you on
trolleys, flwarms of tiny locomo
tives hustle and fuss around, shriek
ing at each other with shrill voices.
"Sand and gravel flies back to the
town w’here mountains of bagged ce
ment ar. j stacked, for there must be
housing for 40.000 men before the
cold weather reaches. Here another
arr.ey is toiling at break-neck speed
about this gigantic task.
"And all of this is but preliminary
to the real work of the great project.”
Then there follows a wonderful de-
-■ n pi ion of tlie workings of the great
tidal basins, Allan’s improvement on
the designs of Schllrh and Llppman.
the famdus German engineer*, to
whom we owe the harnessing of the
incalculable power of the tides.
Through his ingenious arrangement
of reservoirs thousands of tons of
water were dumped on gigantic tur
bines every hour of the twenty-four,
and the lift and fall of the tides gave
him all of this power for simply tlie
cost of original work—less than $5,-
000.000.
The Scene, indeed, recalled the
Tower of Babel—a project so vast
that its very conception seemed im
pious.
And this was only one of five such
scene*. In Bermuda. Fayal, at Fin-
isterre and on a great plain beyond
London similar mighty panoramas of
daring » Were being uflrolled. And
Allah, the genius who had provoked
these upheavals, was the motive spirit
of each. He was tireless and unrest
ing. Hives and Mrs. Allan heard from
him in one camp or another, and be
fore they had finished his short dis
patches—so it seemed to them—an
other from some other tunnel city was
laid in their hands or he himself
dropped off a construction train from
Toms River, dear-eyed, smooth -
shaven, and fresh and energetic as
ever.
Hives had built a beautiful little
house for the chief engineer and his
wife on the seaside of the tunnel city,
and Allan encouraged Mrs. Allan to
spend much of her time there, even
when he was in this country. Rives
was the one warm personal friend be
had made in his lonely life, and know
ing how much pleasure Mrs. Allan
found in his society, he was glad to
have her as nearly contented as pos
sible w’hile he darted back and forth
across half the Northern Hemisphere.
They had one child—a little girl.
Edith—and she grew to be almost a
stranger to her father.
Even when Allan was in New York
hp saw’ but little of his wife and
child'. His business affairs usually
took him a great deal to the house of
the great Lloyd, where he held long
conferences with the old financier or
his daughter, who had the details of
the tunnel at her finger ends.
A Neglected Wife.
Thus Mrs. Allan, a lonely and neg
lected woman, was thrown constant
ly with Rives, an impressionable and
high-strung man, who already held
for her at least a deep admiration.
"Mao is in New York I got a wiro
frofn him late this afternoon,” re
marked Rives one evefling as they
were taking a horseback ride along
one of the wide level roads that led
northward from Tunnel City.
“‘Yes, he called me up,” said the
woman, with a faintly weary note in
her voice. "He said that he would be
busy about the real estate deal for
the next day or so and would have to
go to France w'ithin a few days. He
called up from the Lloyds." she added,
without conscious meaning.
Rives w’as silent for a few moments
as the horses pounded along the
gravel road, side by side.
"Did he say anything about run
ning down here or ?” he stopped
bff short. He had tried to make the
tone nonchalant, but she understood
and bit her lip.
“T know what you are thinking
about, Jack," she said soberly, and her
voice trembled slightly. "And I w’ish
you wouldn't—pity mo."
Rives swore at himself in an un
dertone and tried to stammer out
something light and reassuring.
“You’re too old a friend,” she cut
In. quietly. "It would be just like
you to go and talk to Mac. and that
would be worse than anything else.
He is doing the best he can, and I
know I ought to be happy.”
"Aren't you?" asked Rives.
"No. I'm not, and you know it per
fectly well, my friend. I am as proud
of Mac as a woman could be of a
man, but I want to be married to a
man, not to a—a—an institution."
Rives looked at the lightly poised
body and the delicate brown head
and soft eyes that shone like amber
in the moonlight. And he laughed
uncertainly to check the something
that rushed to his lips.
“Oh. well." he said lightly and kind
ly. "it won’t be so bad in a little
while. Mac is trying to do eight
men's work and everything is just
starting now. but when "
"1 know,” she interrupted grimly.
"Everything has been just starting
for months and months. I went over
all this with him a few weeks ago
and he told nie just what you ale
trying to tell me. I only know that
I have been under the same roof with
my husband for 24 consecutive hours
in six month*."
“Hut. little girl, don't you see
"oh. yes! I know I atn unreason-
aide. I haVp cut out about a bale of
newspaper Clippings about Mac and
picture* of me, and I ought to be as
vain and pleased a*—as—as a wom
an. I am proud of hltn. I even ad
mit that it gratifies the woman in me
to be pointed out in department store*
and at thp theater as the wife of Mac
Allan—but that isn’t all that a nor
mal woman wants the man she loves
to give her.'
Rives wisely held his tongue and
there was another little silence. At
last he asked:
"Did you ever—have you ever let.
Mac know exactly how you feel about
about this?"
The woman did not reply at once.
“I went down to his office about a
month ago,” she said at last in a low
voice. ”1 couldn’t help it, Jack. I
was so lonely and miserable. He sent
out word that he was verv busy, but
would be out in a little while. I told
the boy to tell him that I wanted to
see him at once. I was mad by that
time. He came out perfectly good
humored, as he always is, and I told
him I wanted him to come home for
dinner and spend the evening with
me. He said he couldn’t and I—I
cried, and I'm afraid I made«a scene
—but there was nobody there.”
S HF
rc
HE paused, and Rives made no
omment. He was • looking
straight over his horse's head up
the moonlit road, and his face was in
the shade of his broad-brimmed hat.
She looked at him and put her hand
on bis arm.
"You don’t blame me. do you,
Jack?”
She felt the muscles stiffen under
her hand.
"No." he replied, almost gruffly, “I
don’t.”
She .sighed. “He told me he would
have more time in a few months, it
would be different, and I said I didn’t
want to Walt any longer. T told him
I was going to take up nursing and go
to work in the hospital here—and
that's whs I’ve done It. If I couldn’t
have my husband i had to have some
thing else to occupy my mind. I can't
bear to be useless. Jack."
"What did he say when you told
him that?" asked Rives, quietly.
'He Idughed—and told me to go
ahead.”
Again they rode on in silence for a
brief time
“I suppose I am foolish." she said
at last, in a wistful tone, “but some
times I wish that Mac had never suc
ceeded in getting this tunnel i>lan
through. He doesn't belong to me
any more; he belong* to the world. I
have to live in the light of his halo—
and I’d rather live in the light of a
fireside."
Rives abruptly pulled up his horse
and turned.
"Let’s go home." he said.
u
I
’’.M glad you could get up here,
old man. The storm is about
to break. Listen!”
Up to them from the street, where
hundreds of real estate brokers were
gathered, came a steady roar. Al
lan and Rive* listened and smiled.
“You certainly did some smooth
work in a publicity line," said the
latter.
"It wasn't smooth," disclaimed Al-
laYi. a little resentfully, “and I didn't
do it. It just did itseif. You know—
but maybe you haven’t had time to
see their stunts—but the viograph
people have been among mv best lit
tle advertisers, and they have paid
for the privilege. They have been
showing picture* with miles and miles
of beautiful houses and department
stores and all the trimmings of a great I
city along with their regular films I
.showing the progress of the work—all
labeled ‘The Tunnel City of the Fu
ture’ and ‘Tunnel City Ten Years
From To-day.’ ”
To Be Continued To-morrow.
The Manicure
Lady
I
By WILLIAM F. KIRK.
WAS reading an awful interest
ing short story last night,”
said the Manicure Lady. "It
was about them Aztec*, that used to
have splendid palaces and everything
fixed up in big league style down in
Mexico. The story said that was
many centuries ago, long before there
was even any Irish came to this
country, and it said tlney was a splen
did race, the men all tall and fair
and handsome nnd tlie women regular
cutles. The hero of t’.he story must
have been about eight feet tall, be
cause it said Hint he loomed hffid
anrl shoulders above the tallest war
riors of their army, end they wasn't
none of tliem shorties”
“I never seen any very tall Mexi
cans." •'aid the Head Barber. "That
Mexican porter we had here wasn't
anv taller than Frank Daniels, and
he wasn’t fair, either.”
“Oh. but these people was long be
fore the Mexicans we see nowaday*."
said the Manicure Lady. “They -was
a superior race of people, like us.
only bigger and I guess brainier.
They used to worship the sun, and I
think that showed they was s fine
race, because anybody that worship*
the sun ain't worshiping no minor
league idol.
“I always thought if I had to wor*-
ship anything except my family and
my future husband I would worship
the sun. The sun Is so big and nice
and warm. But I must tell you the
story. The name of the hero was To.
It is a .jerky sort of a name. Io. but
all you have to do to remember it is
to think of Iowa or an t. O. U.
“Weil, this Io is in love with the
niece.of a Aztec priest. Her name
is Ilia, which you can remember by
thinking of Illinois. That’s how I
keep the two names so plain. The
priest is a crusty old piece of work,
arid he doesn’t want Io to get Ilia
because she has a lot of gold and
precipus stones which he has his eyes
on. He says that the gell belongs to
the sun and that he is the sun's
agent, which the sun doesn't deny.
“There is some beautiful lines in
the story. When the priest tells Ilia
that she » annot marry Io she says to
him:
."‘Know this, oh priest of the sun!
Before you there were many priests,
and when thou passest beyond the
purple horifcorl there will be many
more priests to worship that orb of
fire and beauty upon Which we now
fix our puny mortal gaze. My Io is
my all, so handsome and so strong.
No man like -him in all this countH
dwells. When in the morn he kfleel*
before the shrine, still is hr ta ’ a r
than tlie puny warriors at thy beck
and call. It is written upon the
waves that roll eternally, written
with the rays of the sun itself, thdt
I be Jo’s bride.’
“ ‘But Io like not.’ the priest an
swers. *T owe Io a lot of money, and
he presses me sore. Tell him to can
cel that debt, and his bride you shall
be upon the day when I owe lo
nothing.’
"The way the story ends, Io makes
the sacrifice, and he lives happily
with Ilia tintil they both croak. Gee,
George. 1 wish I had been living then.
It was all so romantic and different
then. Imagine the average young
Atlantan passing up a lot of money
to get the girl he loves. Not a
chance! He is too busy finding out
if his bride’s father is there with the
fat bankroll. They didn’t think of
money in them days, George.”
"That young guy that just went out
doesn’t think much of money, either.”
said the Head Barger. “He didn’t
think to give me a tip.”
KODAKS
'The Be* Finishing Cstare
leg That Cu Be Fro*nee#/
KiuMntarj Fthr* end ran
piste eVto* amwtenr egppHee
'Ire for <mt-or-towft matogtata.
Seed for Catalog and Prlc* Lint.
A. K. HAWKES GO. K ° t D P % K j
14 Whttamil 6U, Atlanta, g«.
BINGHAM SCHOOL’S ye»™ wr
, . to make Men of Boys. Asheville climate
world renowned. Organisation Military, Two detail* from U. V Army ai-
U>wed to N. C. The A, A M. College has one. Bingham the other. Target and
Gallery practice, with latest fj. S .Army Rifles Lake for Swimming Sum-
mer Camp during July and August. Tuition and Board *150 per Half Term
*800 a year Addreea Col. R. Bingham, Bo* 6. Asheville. N. c.
THE STATE NORMAL SCHOOL, ATHENS, GA.
Named by a I’nited States Commissioner of Education as being among
(he best fitted State Normal Schools in the United States Fifty six officers
and teachers, ten building*, eighteen departments of instruction, full certifi
cate courses in Psychology. Pe4lagogy. English Expression. Oratorv, Ma'ho-
matics. Science. History. I>atin. German, Greek. l*Yench, Spanish. < ’orreepond-
ence.
The Home Life courses are among the strongest In th* South. Domes
tic Arts and Sciences, Manual Arts, A’griculture, Gardening. Home Nursing,
Physical Culture. Vocal and Instrumental Music, Sight Singing Diploma
license to teach Two Practice School*. Education for fltnes* and hap;
news in the home
Catalogu a.
Education for fitness and happi-
Total expenses for a year less than $150 0© Write for
JERE M POUND, President.
SOUTHERN UNIVERSITY OF MUSIC
GERARD THIERS. KURT MUELLER, Directors
353 PEACHTREE STREET
TELEPHONES- Offirp : Tvv
i-l ATLANTA. GEORGIA
04F>0; llnrihitorT: Ivy 4410.
Among the Faculty—Kurt Mueller, Oerard-Thters. Michael Banner,
Tbeo Saul. Allen G. Loehr. W. P. Woolf. Clara Mueller. Eda Bar
tholomew. Anna Hunt, Julie Banner, Dorothy Scott. Mnrgherlta Carter,
Patricia Threadgllle.
INDIGESTION?
Stop It quickly; Have your grocer send
you one doz. bottles of
SHIVA R
QIN OER ALE
Drink with meals,
and if not prompt
ly relieved, get
your money back
at our expense.
Wholesome. deli
cious, refreshing.
Prepared with the
celebrated Shiva r
Mineral Water and
the purest flavoring material*.
SHIVAR SPRING, Manufacturers
SHELTON. S. C.
A. L. ADAMS CO., Distributor*. Atlanta.
WASHINGTON SEMINARY
1874 PEACHTREE ROAD - ATLANTA
THE SOUTH’S MOST BEAUTIFUL SCHOOL
SOUTH’S MOST BEAUTIFUL
DiSTINCTIVP: FflA'iURES.
1. Boarding Department limited $100,000 00 In Ground* and Building*.
2. New School Building, modern in equipment, with provision for open-air
class rooms.
.1 Courses in Domestic Science and Physical Training a part of regular cur
riculum
4 Departments Kindergarten. Prim Ary. Academic, College Preparatory,
Music. Art, Expression
Thirty-sixth Session begins SEPTEMBER 11th. l&l*
Bw llltmrated catalogue B I. P artel EMMA B. SCOTT. PrlnclpUa.