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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.