Newspaper Page Text
One Woman s
Story
$
THE TUNNRL greatest STORY OF ITS KIND SINCE - JULES VERNE
The Engaged
Girl
By Virginia T Van De Water.
f^rwrn tti# 0*m*a nf Bernhard gRlltrmsna—,
by ••
ha Wr;«t, Berlin. English translation and
lint - JJ t*y
n(er, and
•rook cot-
miewhat rnonoto-
knew few of
CHAPTER XXVIII
S UMMER Slipped into autumn, and
autumn faded Int
the life In the Ml
Hire continued on it
HOOS was Ma|y F
Iter neighbors, for, although several of
the villagers railed to see her. she did
not return their visits She found them
to be kind, good-natured people, but
ihose with whom she was brought Into
rontact had tastes and manners entire
ly different from hers.
It whs now that she appreciated for
the first time that in marrying a man
on a lower plane «>f education, breeding
and refinement from herself, she was
cutting herself <>ff from th
TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT.
das
which she belonged. There were In
Middlebrok families "f culture, but none
of these came to sec her. The. men of
such families, meeting Bert Fletcher on
the train, found him coarse and common
arid took it for granted that his wife
whs like him, therefore never suggested
that their wives and daughters should
call on her and her mother. The peo
ple of whom Bert Fletcher would have
made friends considered his wife "stiff
and haughty." Mary went out little, for
her household duties kept her at home
much of the time and she did not like
to leave her mother alone Moreover
she herself was not well and shrank
from making new acquaintances
Early Breakfast.
So one day was much like another to
the young wife Each morning she pre
pared her husband’s early breakfast,
then cooked her mother's breakfast, tak
ing her own morning repast after Bert
had started for his train lie was u
j ... vj ieepar, ai m at 6
o'clock on a winter’s morning was not
an easy task. He usually lay abed so
late that he had time to gulp down only
a hasty breakfast before leaving the
house. Under these conditions the wife
could not eat with him. and he did not
ggest that she do so, but seemed very
willing to have her wait upon him,
bringing him his cereal, egg bread and
coffee as he was ready for them.
When the furnace fir* was started at
the beginning of the cold weather Bert
had attended to it morning and night
Ho<»n. however, he detailed the morning
shaking down of the furnace to his
wife, and. as she did not demur, he got
into the habit of letting her perform
this work. Several times lately he had
come home at night with his breath
smelling of liquor, and on these oc
casions Mary had advised him timidly
to "go to bed early," and she had
banked the fires for the night and. when
necessary, pumped the water into the
lank for use in kitchen and bathroom.
In the hours between her husband’s
leaving and returning home. Mary tolled,
not only because in a country house,
there is much actual toll to he per
formed. but to keep herself from think
ing Sometimes Bert remained in town
oil night, and she was conscious of a
sense <>f relief when he did this, even
while she whs afraid to wonder what he
whs doing and if his breath smelt again
of whisky. Her father had never cared
for liquor in any form and she had the
horror of drunkenness felt by women
who have known only temperate men.
It seemed to her as if a dark shadow
were creeping stealthily into her life,
but she feared to face It
There were days when Burt would ap
pear as his good-natured, clear-headed
self, and then his wife tried to love him
She made herself consider his good
traits, and to talk of them with her
mother. When her mother-in-law came
out at Christmas to make a visit. Mary
played her part so well that the preju
diced matron remarked to Bert that
j«erhai>s. after all. he hud "picked u bet
ter wife” than she had at first feared.
•'But she ain't very strong. Bert." she
warned him "if you don’t want a sick
ly woman on your hands, make, her take
care of herself
Herbert Fletcher laughed comfortn
bly
"Oh. don't you bother about her. ma,”
be said. "She never complains, and she
Would If she was sick Besides, she
don't work near as hard as she did be
fore I married her. Then she was in
Pearson’s all da>. and doing housework
at home morning and night as well.”
"No; but sometimes our benefits are
so much like impositions that a near
sighted and quick-tempered man is
likely to get th* two mixed up. in
the meantime all we can do Is go
ahead. But don . mistake the motives
of your investors. You’ve siinpiy
given them a new experience a new
song, a H<»ng In keeping with the ag<
You’re digging a hole and you r** go
ing to make them rich. It's like the
roar of the subway they can under
stand it. But that doesn't make them
like paying for rides to pay Interest
on watered subway stock.”
"Let’s go In and get one little
drink.” suggested Allan, rising with
laugh "I think you need it. Your
mental vision Is obscured.”
“No,” returned Rives, ns he. too,
rose, "mv mental vision is again bu*'
regarding the ruins of the Tower of
Babel.”
A Crisis.
f I Mi AT same afternoon Maud Allnn
J had a somewhat casual visitor,
an occurrence that might have
had strange results if Destiny had not
at once begun to move in the great
tunnel drama with Inconceivable sud
denness.
The visitor was Ethel Lloyd. There
was no reason why she should not
have called on M a. Allan at the Tun
nel City, excepting that she had not
done s<» for several years. Also, there
was no reason why she should have
two several and distinct ex uses. And,
furthermore* there was no occasion
foi h< r to blush when she gave either
one of them- but she did all of these
things.
Mrs. Allan was somewhat flustered
at first herself when the caller was
announced, but ^-he received the girl
with sweet cordiality. Hhe had Just
been talking to her husband over the
telephone, and possibly this had some
thing to do with it. He told her Rives
was on his way down to Tunnel City
;ind that he. Allan, had Just been
(ailed to Montreal.
"It has been a long time since I
have seen you.” she said, as she
pressed the girl’s face and looked into
the lovely face.
"Yes." said Miss Lloyd, "I have
never been so busy. Papa gives me
more and more to do all the time, and
It seems to me I have hardly breathed
for a year."
"Mr. Allan tells me he sees you
occasionally.”
Their glances flickered find crossed
for an Instant, and Maud felt a long-
formed sub-conscious suspicion leap
into a conscious certainty.
"Yes," the girl was saying, calmly,
"papa has given me most of the de
tail of the tunnel work to handle.
But —" she smiled like a child. "I
didn't come to talk about my work—
I want to gee jours."
"Mine?” Mrs. Allen smiled a little
vaguely.
"Yes. I’ve heard so much About
your model hospital and kindergarten
and all the rest of it for the working
people here. You know. I’m greatly
Interested In that sort of work, too,
In my leisure time.”
A Peculiar Tone.
f '<*. fit
L •' > •***
V, . , . ,:V " Tv A;
. U ■
• ' ' S' ,• - c ~ > M/• A"'
m— ' r v
** -■ '■ * ■ v. '<;> , T L
'• - ' ' • • • .
*?•
f • • / L> ■>. V >jv.- v ^ .*. v-
i ' *♦—— ■ -v. ■ »-
you could always And time for m;—i
because you loved me!”
He was silent for a moment, con- i
fused and groping. Then the sense
of his position came over him with a
rush.
"But, Maud! Maud! Mac is my best j
friend in life and—look! I’ve broken
every line of decency, of honor ;
of ” He filled the hiatus with a j
groan.
By FRANCES L. GARSIDE.
Maud Allan and Jack Rives, two human beings to whom what was, perhaps, the inevitable, had happened.
She Did Not Answer.
only once did Mary venture to apeak
1o her husband of the fear that gnawed
at her heart, it was the day after New
Year’s. Mrs Fletcher, Senior, returned
to town on January 1. declaring that
she had "stood the lonesomcness of the
country" as long as she could pert
had escorted her ba» I' to New York,
mating hla intention of staying in town
that night Mary took it for granted
that he would dine with his mother,
but when, the next da> Sunday he
came out on the morning train, she saw
by his heav\ eves that he had been up
]«(.■ the night before, and noted that
there were still the fumes of stale to
bacco on hla breath. She said nothing
about the mutter, however, until, the
Hooti meal dispuicned, he threw himself
on the parlor sofa i<> read the Sunday
papers Then i.«* held out his hand to
lie •
"Sit here by me. why don’t you, Ma
mie.’ Per bop* tie smell of my pipe
make* you sick, does it "” he asked
Solicitude for her welfare was not fre
quent with him these days, and his
kindly inquiry touched the unhappy
woman. She came to him swiftly, and,
drawing a chair up to the edge of the
sofa, spoke eagerly, vet etnharrassedly.
touching his huge hand lightly with
trembling fingers
’’Bert.' she began gently, "I don't
mind the smell of tobacco. But lately
-I have worried Bert worried, dear
because your breath smells oft* n of
whisky, ami I have been afraid
Her husband threw back his head with
a boisterous laugh "Little goose!” he
exclaimed "Have you let a silly thing
like that worry you" Look her. Ma
mie, I do take a glass of liquor with a
friend sometimes, but it don’t hurt me.
I've been doing it for years, ami l don’t
propose to stop it new. see?”
His wife did not answer, and he went
Mrs. Allan felt that the tone some
what belittled the great humanitarian
work she had carried on in the Tun
nel City, and resented It; but sho
smiled as little Edith trotted out onto
the veranda where they were sitting.
"I can give It only my leisure time,
too." she said "This is my real work.’
Miss Lloyd cooed over the child In
the most approved fashion, and then
suggested that she would love to see
the hospital and recreation building if
Mrs. Allan could stare the time to
guide her. This was safe ground, and
the two women passed an interesting
♦tour on an inspection tour, in the
course of which Miss Lloyd Insisted
that she be allowed to complete the
somewhat inadequate library.
"Mr. Allan is not here?” she in
quired, with Just faint suggestion of
an effort to be natural. They had re
turned to the house and she wa.s pre
paring to make her adieu.
“NT
unfortunately," replied Mrs.
Allan, with regret. “He tel-
• phoned Just as you ('ame
on:
You don't know life, and you don't
know me. If you did you would under
stand that business demands that I treat
a chap now and then, and drink with
him, too, if I would not seem like a
cheap skate And. child.” becoming se
rious as he saw her anxious face. "1
never take a drop too much, s-- don't
let's talk about the matter ~~*Mn I'm
free, white and a good ways past 21,
and 1 don’t need management, even by
Mi II ■ i ire law
stubbornly. "I don't mean to stand it
*rom any woman Don’t forget that. 1
won’t be bossed!
There was no danger of her forget
ting the fact, the wife mused bitterly.
that he had been suddenly called to
Montreal. I was expecting him this
evening.”
“That’s too had!” exclaimed Miss
Lloyd, sympathetically. "Hoxv is he?"
"Very well. I think, but badly over
worked. Sometimes he is unable to
come home for even a few hours for
weeks together My only fear is that
he will break down under it. He has
kept, this up for years, but he thinks
that the work will be lighter from
now on.”
Miss Lloyd shook her head as on - *
who longs to be optimistic, but can
not conscientiously. Her wonderful
eyes were filled with concern and Mrs.
Allan resented this, too.
"And now he has this new worry,”
said the girl.
Another Lie.
Why Don't You (iet
of That Corn To-night:
Mrs Allan eyed her. questioning.
’ 1 mean the financial one. You
know it was understood that we
would not try to raise the second
$3,000,000,000 until the work wa.i
practically half completed. The ser
pentine tunneling at Bermuda ate up
such an awful lot more than was ex
pected that it won't be possible to
finish more than a quarter of the en
tire work on the first subscription,
and Mr. Allan is tivlng to figure out
how he can make the showing s
good as possible. But. of course, yju
knew about it." she broke off.
"1 knew something of it.” lied Mrs.
Allan, and she was angry because she
knew that Miss Lloyd could tell she
was lying.
There was no reason f<*r her re
sentment. she told herself, on tin*
particular count when her visitor was
gone. It whs natural that Mar ahouli
talk over many business things with
Lloyd's daughter, matters that he. had
no time for in the few softer mo
ments of his visits home. But while
the Intimacy between her husband
and Miss Lloyd might have been, and
might still be, all business on his side.
Maud Allan knew that there was
something beside business In Miss
Lloyd’s attitude toward her husban i.
Was this also trm* of him?
She asked the question with a calm
ness that startled her. Was this the
reason that ho did not find or mak •
time for more frequent tylns to Tun
nel City? Something gripped her
tight -something at her heart—when
the thought came; but shq was
shocked to find that It did not bring
the desolation she would have been
sure would have followed. She had
leaped to arms instinctively when aha
divined Miss Lloyd’s attachment for
her husband but how much of her
readiness to do battle was prompted
by pride and the right of possession?
Was it true that he had grown awav
from her and toward this wonderful
and masterful young woman in thes •
years? And. more amazing, was it
possible that she had ceased to re
gard him as the mainspring of her
life?
Possibly it was.. In nil that long
afternoon In which she struggled
with new and strange thoughts she
did not one'e consciously recall to
herself the fact that Mae was the
father of Edith. and when Rives
(‘ftme up the steps In the twilight
she greeted him in a sudden warmth
of feeling she had never known be
fore.
It had not been n very pleasftlit
afternoon for Rives He had hur
ried to his office where he had sat
for an hour gazing at the piles of
work before him, and his thoughts
were far awav from It His thoughts
were not altogether unpleasant, but
lie. too. was undergoing a en ss ex
amination at the hands of himself
He came out of it well,* he t« Id
himself, but Eonscienoe still kept step
with him. Ho had a sternly re
pressed feeling of Joy. a feeling that
a man forbids himself to recognize.
It arises from the knowledge that
what we have secretly desired to hap
pen is happening, though we have
striven our hardest In our duty to
prevent it.
Bad News.
WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE
The story opens with Rives, who is In charge of the technical work
ings of the great tunnel from America to Germany, on one of the tunnel
trains, with Baermann, an engineer, in charge of Main Station No. 4. They
are traveling at the rate of 118 mites an hour. Rives is in love with
Maude Allan, wife of Mackendrick Allan, whose mind first, conceived the
great tunnel scheme. After going about 250 miles under the Atlantic Ocean
Rives gets 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.
He staggers through the blinding smoke, realizing that about .1,000 men
have probably perished. He and oher survivors get to Station No. 4.
Rives finds Baermann holding at bay a wild mob of frantic men who want
Pi climb on a work train, homebody shoots Baermann. and the train slides out.
The scene is tl en changed to the roof of the Hotel Atlantic. The greatest
financiers of the country are gathered there at a summons from H.
Lloyd, "The Money King." John Rives addresses them, and introduces Al
lan. Mrs. Allan and Maude Lloyd, daughter of the financier, are also pres
ent. Allan tells the company of his project for a tunnel 3.100 miles long.
The financiers agree to hack him. Allan and Rives want him to take charge
of the actual work. Rives accepts. Rives goes to the Park Club to meet Wit-
. terstelner, a financier. At Columbus Circle news of the great project is being
flashed on a screen Thousands are witching it. Mrs Allan becomes a lonely
) and neglected woman and Is much thrown In the company of Rives Sydney
<J Wolf, the money power of two continents, plots against Allan and Rives.
' me and—I let you stay. If I had been
as clever with myself as I was with
! you I would have known why. But I
didn’t know—really—until to-day.”
Her voice was very, very low. “Now
—both of us know!”
He rose and stood before her, look
ing down. “And I never dreamed that
you guessed I—oh, M«ud! I believed
that you never thought of anyone but
Mac—that you never loved any
one "
A Woman’s Story.
“I understand, dear,” said the worn- i
an. Why is it that at a time
this a woman Is bo mucl
and surer of the two" She took his ,
limp hand and pressed it to her cheek, j
“But you couldn’t help It, could
you ?”
“No,” he groaned. "I couldn't he'p
loving you, dearest—God knows! But
I could help the—your .knowing It—
this way.”
She laughed a. little low, tremulous
laugh. "Haven’t I told you, my big
honest boy, that I've know it for
ever so long?”
"Yes, but I didn’t know r that you
knew—and that is where the hell of
It lies. And there is no hell quite as
hot as the one that w r aits for *he
man who violates the home of his
friend.”
She pressed his fingers hard. “I
know, Jack, dear. I’ve thought about
this—T know how r you feel. But this
Is different. I wonder if that cooe
was invented by men so that they
might neglect their wives with Im
punity? A man's wife ought to be the
biggest thing in his life, and no one
has a right to tamper with the big
gest thing in anyone’s life. But I
am not the biggest thing in Mac’s life.
He would feel less the wrecking of
his home than the wrecking of his
tunnel, if I loved him In spite of It.
this would be all wrong but I have
not loved him for a long time.”
"But, Maud,” he protested, aghast,
as the future opened before him.
"What can we do? I can’t go to
Mac and tell him ill this. Ah—I
don’t see what else I can do and
hold any semblance of honor.”
y "The trouble about ‘honor,’ Jack,”
she said, gently, "is that it admits
of too many definitions—all of them
made by men. Do you think it !s
honorable—or even moral—for a
woman to hold the place and position
of a wife when she no longer has for
a man the attachment that should
accompany that position?"
Rives shook his head and groaned
again.
“I can’t think—I can’t think about
it to-night, dearest, ’ he said patheti
cally, and he rose to go. “I’ve got to
go down to the end of the workings
to-night—should have gone there
earlier. I’ll see you to-morrow, and
by that time we'll have it thrashed
out. Good-bye—and God bless you!"
He took both of her hands in hL
and, stooping, kissed them. She
watched, with that soft light in her
eyes, the bowed head, with its wavy
hair, and she suddenly took it in her
hands and kissed it.
“Good-bye—till to-morrow." she
whispered, “and take good care of
yourself.”
She stood at the head of the stepe
and watched him until his white fig
ure was lost in the white background
of the road.
To Bo Continued To-morrow.
Do You Know-
cast Aside.
Now Go On With the Story.
formed him gravely. “He telephoned
this afternoon. He has been called
to Montreal.”
"To Montreal?”
"That’s what he said."
"llm! Oh. yes.—that Uanadian steel.
Well, that won't take him long."
“I hope not. In the meantime, we
needn’t wait dinner until he gets
back."
Rives smiled back at her as they
went into the dining room, bu: his
smile was a little puzzled. He nud
never seen her in quite this mood be
fore. It was not her custom to tak- 1
disappointment In the matter of Mac’s
visit in this seeming off-handed way.
But his heart leaped as he told him
self he had never seen her so lovely,
so alluring
A Bad Meal.
Maud,
ed his face and—their lips met.
"Maud! Maud! Maud!” he whisper
ed brokenly and her head rested
lightly on his shoulder.
Then suddenly he almost pushed
her from him and sprang up.
"My God!” he exclaimed.
The Reaction.
It was a mad sort of meal
in some filmy white dress, sat across
the table from him and laughed and
talked In light-hearted abandon.
There was softness in her eyes as she
looked at him. a softness in her sil
ver voice as she laughed at him and
softness in her fine-spun hair in the
mellow light and all of it went to
his head like wine. And through all
of it there was a barely sensed tense
ness as of expectancy.
At last she rose and held out her
hand t.« him with a bowildoting smile.
“Come out on the piazza,” she said.
"We can have our coffee and
» .... .... ,1.^-. •>
To Women
h
Where is the reason in paring, peel
ing. picking and gouging at that ' :i
when you have been at it for months
and il hurts more than ever Yu
can't remove the whole coin that w..;
bir you can and do endanger your- •
’o blood poisoning. Yes, many dcai .s
have resulted from a careless slip f
* Made and an irritated, bleeding
Jacobs' Magic Corn Liquid i a s on
formula from our own !;;»■< ratorv
re have thoroughly tested an
K a ran tee to be aucc*-s.-fui. 'Hi ere i>
positively no pain and no danger in
eihod, and it will bring out any
I or soft, completely, root and
tter how deep the growth. It is
and safest corn remedy iha 1
ver sold. Use It to-night and
' that painful, torturing corn
)22c. —(Advt )
Do Not Delay
If you are convinced that
your sickness is because of
some derangement or dis
ease distinctly feminine,
you ought at once bring
to your aid
Dr. Pierce’s Favorite Prescription
It arts directly on the
organs affected and tones
20c.
the entire system.
A^k Your Diuggist
“f have had news for you. Maud,”
he said, ns he came up the steps.
She smiled at him—easy-moving,
sun-blackened and handsome, and
dressed in white from collar to shoes.
"Have you?" Her tone was light
and here eyes soft. "Do you know
what you look like?"
He was a trifle taken aback, bur
he laughed joyously to find her in a
light-hearted mood.
"No- tell me. 1 guess I can stand
It.”
“You look like a photograph nega
tive when you hold It up to the
light." she bubbled.
He threw his hat on a table and
slumped into a seat with an affecU*-
tlon of affront
"That's nice,” he reproached her.
"Here I've been playing tennis to
keep my pristine grace and gone hat
less to get ;i fin*-, athletic color and
even now I um fresh from a bath
and a shave. 1 expected nt least that
you were going to say 1 looked like
a young god alighting before a mo -
tal damsel Instead of which I am
told I look like a dolled-up nigger.”
"The reward of foppishness.’ she
told him. But what is the bud
news ?"
"Mac can’t get down to-nigh ."
She nodded. "1 knew it,’ ehc n-
your
igarette out there
Looking hack and laughing like a
child she led him out to the piazza
where the coffee and cigarettes were
served. It was a wonderful night, and
the magic of it came upon them so
that they sat long in dreamy silence.
Out beyond in the white moonlight
the great white horses of the Atlantic
were racing shoreward and the swish
of their manes and the thunder of
their charge came up to them from
the strajid. The fresh salt air was
scented with perfume of sweetpe&s
that grew in the thick tangle along
the rail. The beat and clamor of
Maud sat with her head bowed and
he could not see her face. His head
was whirling and there was singing
in his ears. He could not seem to
grasp that that which had happened
had happened, and when realization
came it brought with it a stab of an
guish.
"Now—I’ve done it!” he exclaimed
in a low voice. "Maud Maud—can
you ever forgive me?"
The pain ip his voice rather than
the question made her look up at
him. Her own voice was low and
steady.
"There is nothing to forgive on your
side."
the tunnel working far inland were
onlj a faint murmur.
Rives' gaze was out to sea. His
cigarette burned down to his fingers;
until, at last, he tossed it over the
railing and turned to her with a sup
pressed sigh There was only a small j
H E stood for a moment in rigid
silence and then suddenly sat
beside her again and took her
hand.
"Maud—Maud.” he began. "I can't
—I don’t "
“Don't try, Jack.” she Interrupted
gravely. "It wasn’t your fault.”
“But It was—It was!” he cried,
dropping her fingers and clutching his
hair with both hands. His "code”—
his system of honorable living—had
been shattered from end to end.
"If there was any fault,” she said,
slowly and distinctly, "it was mine,
Jack."
He could only groan miserably.
"You see. dear boy." she went on
softly, stroking his hand with her fin
gers. "I've known that you loved me
for ever so long. '
At this he straightened with a sort
of gasp and stared at her. She smiled
gently upon him.
“Didn’t you suppose that I knew?
Why, Jack, you are so open and frank
and honest that I am glad that there
have not been other women around
here much. They would have seen it
a* easily-as I have."
"But why—why did you let me ”
Her eyes fell, “I knew you loved
“I wonder," she said, slowly, "if I
ever loved him. I know I could have.
Jack—I know that! But I was so*
young when we were married. I had
never seen any other men. and Mac
was so masterful and sure of himself
—Just the sort of a man to take a girl
by storm. W’hen he proposed to me
and 1 put him off I got a note the
next day—like a business letter—giv
ing me 24 hours to decide. That took
me. But the woman in me never truly
loved him—it was only the girl's ado
ration for a strong man. He won the
girl and he never thought it neces- ,
sary to win the woman."
“Do you mean ” he began won- j
deringly.
"I mean, .my dear boy, that the j
love of the woman w'aa cast aside for ,
the honor of digging a bigger hole j
than anyone had ever dug before."
she said, without bitterness. "Please i
don’t think 1 am spiteful or small or !
ungenerous. I glory In Mae’s achieve
ments and am proud of his greatness.
I told you that one night when we
rode up the Lakewood road. But a j
man doesn’t win and hold the love of !
a woman by digging remote holes in
the ground.”
“You don’t think Mac doesn’t love
you!" he exclaimed. "You know that
everything he does is for you.”
"Sit down. Jack," she gently ordered
him. And when he had mechanically
obeyed: "That is a very beautiful
thought. It is what young girls be
lieve of the man they love; but grown
women know better. A man's love
doesn't find expression In steam shov
els. You know and I know that Mac
would have built this tunnel no mat
ter whether he had ever »een me or
not. When a man says that every
thing he has done is due to his wife.
It is merely i beautiful compliment.
The wife, if she has any sense, knows
that it isn’t true, (’an you imagine
yourself building a skyscraper at Rio
Janeiro as a proof of your love for
me?”
"Not that, exactly,” he conceded,
feebly, “but- ”
“Ivet me finish,” she interrupted.
“You have been nearly as busy as
Mac. You have been called awav
from here when it would have be?i
easier for you to stay a week—but
you have come back, sometimes .
every night, at the cost of sleep and
rest and comfort to have an hour
with me. Your work is just as im
portant to you as Mac’s to him—but
Before the decisive battle af Tshtlbxan
ingenious method of signaling on the
part of the enemy was discovered by
the Servians. A cowherd was taking
five cows out to pasture on a hill half
way between the two camps. He drove
them about, sometimes two together,
then one at a time, then three, 1 thus
conveying information to the Bulgarians
as to the position and strength of the
Servian battalions.
The Mountaineering Flub of Raber-
hau3er, in the Harz Mountains, has pre
sented a diploma to Frau von Hansteln,
a 76-year-old lady, who last month
made her sixtieth ascent of the loftiest
peak of the range, a snow-clad cre6t
4.000 feet high.
Tfiree nuns have just left Montreal to
spend the remainder of their lives in the
leper colony at Sheeklung Island, near
Canton All three are only a little more
than tw'enty years of age. For a time,
at all events, they will be the only nuns
to care and tend for four hundred Chi
nese women suffering from the awful
disease of leprosy, and a separate hos
pital has been erected for them by
Father Cfftirardy and his few assistants.
txt HAT shall a girl say when she
XX receives an engagement ring?
Well, now. what du you
think of a question like that?
Who gave you the ring, little sis
ter. and what did you think when h«
gave it to you? Do you love him,
were you so happy you could scarce
ly breathe?
Well, then, why didn’t you say so,
and be done with it?
What shall you say, how shall you
act; is this proper; is that right?
The heart is the best judge when
it comes to things like this.
Is Your Heart Frozen?
What have you done to your heart
— frozen It up solid, reading a lot of
stuff about what is “the proper
thing” and "what isn’t done,” and who
ought to speak first and who must
never, never say a word though the
whole world be hanging In the bal
ance ?
Etiquette—what etiquette Is there
about being engaged?
What do you think you’ll do when
you come to die—ask some one to
read an etiquette book to tell you
how to shut your eyes and bid fare
well to this vain world?
When they put your first baby in
your arms, how in the world will you
know how to act unless some Mr*.
Grundy is there to tell you?
What! Shocking! Oh, yes, of
course, babies are dreadfully shock
ing. aren’t they, and so Is life and so
is death and so is love* and so are
lots and lots of things, but they arc
real just the same. And so, why
don’t you meet them like a real wo
man and not like some little, painted,
jointed doll that has to wait till you
pinch her even to say “Mamma” or
“Papa” in her squeaky little artificial
voice.
What must you 8ay when he gives
you the ring, dear heart, what must
you say when he’s sick and wants
you to hold his hand and make him
something good to eat and pull down
the shade and make the room comfv
and read him something to send him
to sleep.
What Must You Say?
What must you say when you and
he stay up all night watching for th.
dawn to tell you whether she’s going
to live or not?—the little girl you
both love so dearly.
What must you do w’hen somebody
tries to take him away from you and
your heart is breaking and you don’t
really know whether lie cares or not*
What are you, little sister, any
how; a girl—a real live girl—or just
a make believe, cut-out of some
fashion paper with bits of feet that
couldn't walk an honest step to save
anybody’s life and tiny hands that
couldn’t put a biscuit into shape if
the fate of a nation depended on It?
What must you say?—why, say
what you think, say what you feel,
say what you mean—and stop think
ing about it. that’s all.
Who Was?
Little Biffins—Jolly party that at
the Highflyers last night. Is it true
you were the only sober man In the
room after I left?
His Reverence (shocked)—No, cer
tainly not!
Little Biffins (innocently) — By
Jove, you don’t mean that? Who was
then?
The Best Food-Brink Lunch at Fountains
US" insist Upon
ORIGINAL
GENUINE 'HORLICK’S
Funeral Designs and Flowers
FOR ALL'OCCASIONS.
Atlanta Floral Company
455 EAST FAIR STREET.
Avoid Imitations—Take No Substitute
More healthful than tea or coffee.
Agrees with the weakest digestion.
Keep it on your sideboard at home.
A quick lunch prepared in a minute
Rich milk, malted grain, in powder form.
For infants, invalids and growing children.
Pure nutrition, upbuilding the whole body.
Invigorates nursing mothers and the aged.
As Easy To Keep Tlie Hair From Turning
Gray As To Keep The Scalp Glean
low stand between them and their
chairs faced the sea. Maud was I
leaning her elbows on the arm of her I
chair, watching him Her lips were
parted in a wonderful little smile. The I
piazza was in shade, but there was a I
light in her eyes that shone through !
the darkness
He was conscious of no will to
move, but as if drawn by the witchery
of her eyes, his hand crept out slow
ly and closed over the slender fingers
of her own. She made no move un
less it was to sway, ever so slightly,
toward him. Nearer and nearer she
came, unresisting like a flower bend- |
mg its head. Her feathery hair touch-
KINKY HAIR STRAIGHT
SOFT
AND
SILKY
Avr>
Don’t be_ fooled by using some fake reparation which claims to straighten
your hair Kinky hair can not be made straight. You are Just fooling yourself
> ^ tn bave hft,r before you can stralgh-.en it. Now this EXEL-
QtININE POMADE is a Hair Grower which feeds the scalp and roots
or the hair and makes hair grow very fast and you soon can see the results
after using several times It is a wonderful hair grower It dears dandruff
ar.d stops falling hair at once. It leaves harsh stubborn, nappy look "g hair
soft and sllkv. and you oan fix up your hair the way you want it We give
money back if it doesn’t do the wav we claim Try a box
i
Price 25 cents by all druggists or A 0« n *« Wanted Everywhere. Write for
. particulars to-day.
by maJl on receipt of stamps or coin.
there Is no reason in the world
why you should hesitate to restore
to your hair its lost color and vitality.
If it is fading and turning gray, any
more than that you should foolishly
refuse to use a remedy for dandruff or
any other scalp trouble
Sickness, nervousness, impoverished
blood or deficient scalp nutrition may
cause premature rrayr.ees; sometimes
it is inherited. Whatever the cause,
gray hair odds from 10 to 20 years to
the age. and a young Woman, even 26
or 30. with very gray hair is passed
as old
EXEIKNTO MfcPlCIMf CONPiflY. ATlilTL SI.
Roblnnalre Hair Dye is a pure tonic
restorative to bring back to faded or
gray hair its own original color and
lost beauty It is oot to bleach or
change the original color, and should
not be confused with such. It Is pre
pared In our own laboratory from a
formula we know to be beneficial, and
we guarantee it to be non-injurlous. It
keeps the hair soft, lustrous and in lta
beautiful, natural color, and as It does
not stain the scalp cannot be detected
Prepared for light, medium and dark
brown and black hair and is for sale at
druggists and toilet goods departments
75c. By parcel post 83c.
Send us the name of your druggist If
he cannot supply you, and we wfl" send
FREE r san \P le « ol the famous
Roblnnalre Face Powder and Rose Cold
Cream. Jacob*' Pharmacy Co.. Atlanta,
A
r 15
-