Atlanta Georgian. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1912-1939, August 30, 1913, Image 4

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\ Daysey Mayme And Her Folks Red, White and Blue By LOUISE HEILGERS iTrnm th# Oarmia of Bernhard Kellwinami — Herman '*>r*ion f’opyrtght^d. lflKi. r>j * !■'((» her Berlin. English translation and r mpuat ■ n U, Prussians. He would save them still. His comrades lay dead on the battle field; behind, the black eagles of Prussia rode rampant, victorious. But the colors of France were still his. Never, living, would he yield them. He remembered the captain's last words, the merry-eyed, handsome captain who now lay cold as wax upon the blood-sodden earth: “The colors, Gustave, mon vieux, save the colors.“ And he had seized them from the stiffening hand of the standard bear er, wrenched them free from the lance that held them, and bound them about his bleeding body. \ Save the Flag. Then, turning, he had run blindly away from the field of red, white and blue dead into green fields full of red. white and blue flowers. It was early morning, but the sun beat warm unon the uncovered fields. He ran, crouching crookedly among the swaying grasses, as run drunken and wounded men, and the long flow ering things opened and let him pass, then hid him again. It was as If they • knew what he carried. Of a sudden, as ho ran, he came upon a hedgerow that bounded the end of the field. Tn th*e patch beyond a girl, slim and brown and young, dug potatoes. He eyed her longingly as a thirsty man eyes the water. “P-s-st,” he palled, (juaveringly. She raised her head wonderlngly, one wooden-shod foot upon the eartn- 11 lied spade. "Who calls?" she cried. "Prance,” he said In a husky whis per. It was as if a spark from the flame of his soul set hers afire. She came running to his call. Over the hedge he handed the tattered !fe- niains of the colors to her. His wound opened afresh as he tore them from his side. "The Prussians are coming," he said. "Save these!" obeciient, her sun-burnt hands r* ached out and clutched across the flowering hedge at what he held. "And you — what of you?" she asked. Hi* shrugged his shoulders. 'Run ba hei "Quick, be fe re t hey come. They will not sus- pet t if they do not see you ” She eyed him gravely, without sur prise or remonstrance. One grows used to meeting men over open g:aves in war time. "God be with you," was all she Raid "Amen," he. answered, "and with France." Forja moment he waited, watching her weed across the garden, first casting aside her wooden shoes to run the swifter, and holding fast to* her brown breast what looked, as she receded Into the distance, like a bunco of parti-colored flowers. Only when the door of the thatched roof farm house had closed upon her did he turn ft way and crawl, stumblingly, the length of another field. Saved! At the end he fell prone and lay quite still. When presently a detachment of Prussians came uoon him, they foun 1 only a dead and useless man lying face downward upon the nun-warmed • earth, a cloud of gossamer midgets dancing about his head, while all around him. red white and blue, stretched the colors of Free France. But they were merely flowers The regiment's flag lay safely hid den in the brown breast of a peasant girl. A lad. whose age might have been guessed as 13. went up to a booking office on the Southeastern and Chatham Railway and said to the clerk: "Two halves to the Elephant and Cas tle, please ” "How old are you?" asked the clerk. "Eleven years," replied the lad. "For whom Is the other half?" “For my brother." "And how old Is your brother?" "Just a month younger than I am, efr." "And the name Is to he?" asked the suave minister, as he approached the font with the precious armful of fat and flounces. "Augustus Philip Ferdinand Codring ton Chesterfield Livingstone Snooks " “Pear, dear!" Turning to the sexton •*A little more water, Mr Perkins, please " • » • Mr. Borem: ‘I am opposed to intoxi cating liquors as a beverage, yet I be lieve that liquor, rightly used, is a ben efit to humanity. 1 am fully convinced that whisky was once the means of sav ing my life." Miss Cutting: "Perhaps it did. but 1 don't qute see how that proves it is a benefit to humanity." KODAKS T>* But F InliMnf K*••ry IMS That Can 6* " Kwtmui U roa and com - plot* stock amataur aupplioa Ice for out-of-town cua'onjem Send for CatalOQ and Price List. A.K. HAWKES CO ■ "ntPT 14 Whitehall St., Atl«nt«, G«. Every Woman Is interested and should know about the wonderful Marvel 5 r*’ Douche Ask voordrugglstfor it If he cannot sup- P-y the MARVEL. • ■ ept no other, but . send stamp for book. I Marvel Ca., 44 E. 2U St. N.T, (Copyrighted lfilS. by International New* rterrlae ) TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT. T \ TONT>ERF*UL ns are our mod- Vy ern means of communica tion, there Is an Indefinable older one that is more wonderful still. Or how was It that lew* than twenty minutes after Harrlrnan had been roused by a telephone message from Baermann—the last before the serv ice was broken—hundreds ofjnen anJ women in Tunnel City sensed that something was wrong with their mates In the lower workings? Long before 5 o’clock a crowd had gathered In front of the admlnlstra • tion building, and at the entrance to th° tubes, and messengers began rac ing back and forth from one to the other gathering with the latest news. H ’ARRIMAN had had had news from his son a few days before. The boy was dying In* China of some mysterious tropic fever, and he had taken some drug to make him sleep. He Jotted down Baermanns brief message, and it was many min utes before he was even partially master of himself. By the time he was ready for definite irtlon an im mense crowd, mostly women, had gathered and were demanding news. The first of the trains had reached the surface; but the workmen knew nothing beyond the fact that some thing was wrong—that every one had dropped work and headed for the trains. They began calling to him in shrill, angry voices. In Hives’ absence ho was In supreme command, as he was Hives’ chief of staff. He told a new ly roused clerk to go out and tell the crowd that nothing definite had been learned. They Jeered at the young man and he retired In angry dignity; whereupon the crowd began shouting for his chief again. The Dread News. Harrlrnan went out. There were Ignorant and excitable hordes of a dozen different races in the oity, and he knew the necessity for keeping them calm. When he stepped out onto the veranda In the gray dawn a respectful silence greeted him. Those people had grown to look on the lords of the workings as their actual rulers, but every second’s de lay was making them uglier, and the.r quick suspicions were spurring them on. He looked them over and saw that they were almost without exception the wives of the workers. "I am sorry to have to tell you." he said quietly in English, "that there has been a small explosion in the south gallery. Something went wrong with the drilling machine and it blew up. This is all we know at present, but It is not* serious.” There was a low murmur from the crowd as this short speech was swift ly translated into a half score tongues "You mean that’s all you want to tell!" cried a woman, shrilly. "I wan na know ’bout my husband! Is any of ’em dead?" The cry was taken up on every hand. Harrlrnan flushed. "Don’t act like a lot of fools," he barked angrily. "We don’t know any more about it than you do. Probably there are a few hurt—possibly some dead, but we will do everything we can." This little show' of temper had a quieting influence for a time, and the throng gradually drifted over to the tunnel entrance. And then Harriman began to get messages from along th*» line that gave him some idea of the frightful character of the disaster and the appalling confusion in the tunnel. But the trains were coming out. He stopped some of the ingoing trains as long as he dared, for he knew the swelling mob at the entrance would recognize the stoppage of the inbound traffic as a bad sign. All of the tracks were open for 35 miles in. One of them all the way. By shooting trains in to the seventh crossover and bring ing them back he kept up an appear ance of uninterrupted activity that was highly reassuring. Every man that dropped off of the outbound trains—the real ones and the fake ones—was eagerly sur rounded. but they could tell nothing —the early arrivals. They had been on their way out when the explosion occurred—they were working in the first two hundred miles and knew nothing but what they had heard. Still the crowd waited, staring into the two dark, round open, 'gs of the tubes thaLstared back like tw o men acing eye/ And about i) o’clock came the first /rain from the panic district of the Hiring. Gray-faced, wild-evcd men fluftg Vhemselves from the cars j before the train had come to a stop. "The tunnel is burning! All hell’s | loose. The tunnel’s burning!" The thousands took up the terri ble cry. and in ten minutes Tunnel t’ity echoed with it from end to end. I Pandemonium broke loose at the en trance. Frantic women dashed hither I and yon. screaming the names of then husbands and fathers and sons. Met, cursed and shook their fists and reached for hidden weapons. Several J ! women fainted, and here and there j were bursts of hysterical laughter. Every man that came off the train was w edged into the center of a close- packed circle, to which he told, in j broken, tremulous phrases, the story I of the terrible panic. Non** know any of the details of the explosion. In the midst of this chaos Harri- man drove up in his ear. waving his hand and shouting. A few hundred gathered around him. and he bel lowed at the top of his lungs in a vain effort to make his words carry. "Cut this out and don’t act like— A Heavy Stone Struck the Door of the Tonneau. fools!” he howled. "Haven’t you got sense enough to know that concrete and steel can’t burn? There has been a small explosion and a few timbers at the far end of the tunnel have burned and a lot of cowards ran and started ail of this The fir® win be out in a short time and you need not ” ■A heavy stone struck the floor of the tonneau Just below where he was standing The next instant another whizzed past his head. He crouched down, spoke to the chauffeur and tin- car dashed out the press and purred down the roadway in a shower of stones. He drove madly to Allan’s house to see if. by any chance, Mrs. Allan had received anything like a reply to a telegram he had sent as hoon ns he realized what the accident might develop in the way of compli cations. A mob Is a great beast It is with out moral courage. Being cowardly it is harmless until It is feared. Be ing primitive turns to man’s primi tive weapon—the stone. This is one of the reasons that the streets of modern oittes are paved with asphalt. Warped and Stunted. When the distraught Harrlrnan fled at the first missile the panic and rage of the horde of men and women— especially women—which the habit of respect for the ruling powers had held in check, broke loose. A de tachment of a few thousand pro ceed* *1 with a rush to the adminis tration building, where they smashed every window in a dozen seconds. A couple of young engineers appeared at a window above the entrance with a revolver In each hand, and tips cooled the desire to enter and seek further vengeance. Another assistant phoned to Toms River for troops, which were always there in antic!-, pation of Just such an outbreak as seemed now certain to occur. Roaring threats and curses th* fragment of the mob returned to the great seething horde at the tunnel en trance, wrecking the homes of a few of "the bosses" on the way. Allan’s chief of police hastily gath ered as many of his men as he could and rushed the mob. but his handful were scattered by the first volley of stones, and knowing bo" heavily they were outnumbered he was afraid to give orders to shoot. An unsuccess ful attempt to break up a mob is* much worse than no attempt at all. and the flames of destruction roared higher. Behind these men and women there was no tradition «>f patriotism, no conception of justice. For genera tions they had been bred in social in justice of the most terrible kind. Their forefathers had come to Amer ica as to a land of promise and lib erty. only to find that they Ifad ex chang'd a comparatively light politi- c il slavery’for an inhuman industrial one. Of this generation that was digging the tunnel the fathers and grand fathers had worked in factories and mills and mines as children. Only the very strong had survived. They had produced a race of iron-muscled, tireless nun and women, but utterly warped and stunted morally and itientally. For 'years they had toiled In the dust and darkness. In a dim way they underwood that what they were working in would one day be a means of transportation under the seas to a mysterious "Europe." But they worked because only by the 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 miles an hour. Rives is in love with Maude Allan, wife of Mackendrlok 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 3,000 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 to climb on a work train, homebody shoots Baermann. and the train slides out. The 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. H. I-Joyd, "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 back him Allan afid Rives want him to take charge of the actual work. Rives accepts. Rives goes to the Bark Club to meet YVit- tersteiner. a financier. At Holumbus Circle news of the great project is being flashed <>n a screen. Thousands are watching it. Mrs. Allan becomes a lonely and neglected woman and is much thrown in the company of Rives. Sydney Wolf, the money power of two continents, plots against Allan and Rives. Now Go On With the Story. direst toil could they live, and they worked not for an impersonal corpo ration, but /or a man the whole world knew as "Mac." He was the father of their well-being and their meager pay envelopes*, and by the simple ex tension of this primitive logic he was just aVsurely the author of their mis fortunes. If he had deliberately planned the execution of their mates they could not have been more clam orous for his blood. They stood in close-packed thou sands in the rain and waited and waited with yells and threats for the last word from underground. Ther‘ was a long delay in which no trains issued from the staring darkness of the tubes, but at last the train that Baermann had tried to hold at the cost of his life roared out into the light. "We’re the last —no more!" the laborers sobbed and yelled as they piled out of the cars in a mad rush, a a if fearing they might be taken back into the hell which they had escaped. For a moment there was stunned si lence. as the dulled wits of the mob strove to grasp the magnitude of the blow that had wiped out 3,000 lius- bands and fathers and sons. Then it was broken by the shrill, hysterical screaming of a woman un- I der the lee of one of the cars. She * was standing or crouching over the last man to leave the train. He had been carried off. dead, stabbed to death in a fight for place on that "last train " "Cesare! Cesare!” nhe shrieked, again and again. And then there was bedlam. *••*** Telling Mrs. Allan. No word from Allan at the office. Harrlrnan dashed at top speed through the streets to the chief’s house. He passed scores and hun dreds of shawled women and coatless men hastening all in one direction—i toward the tunnel. He closed his eyes and tried to rally his mind, still par tially numbed from the effect of the narcotic and the suddenness of the disaster. Leaving his car at the curb, he ran up the steps of the home and 'asked to once. "She’s Just rising, I think," the maid told him. "Please tell her it is very impor tant. Do you know if she has heard from Mr. Allfin?” "A telegram Just came a moment r eanskie ce Mrs. Allan at ago. I don’t know whom It was from. ’ "Please tell her I would like to see her at once.” Maud came down in a dressing gown with the telegram in her hand. "What is it. Mr. Harriman?” she asked pleasantly, but with a shade of anxiety. "Has anything happened? Can you explain this?” She handed him the telegram. It read: •"Will be home to-night. Don’t worry." "Do you know what’s happened ill the tunnel?” he asked abruptly. "No; my maid said she had heard there’d been an accident." She was regarding the usually composed engi neer with some wonder. "Is it very serious?" A Terrible Shock. "I am afraid it i9," he replied, gravely but quietly. There was no sense in alarming a woman. "What is it?” she demanded quickly. "There’s been' an explosion at the extreme end of the boring on this side." he told her. "We don’t know yet how serious it Is. but I am afraid that a lot of men have been hurt— perhaps killed." Maud suddenly went deathly white and unconsciously crushed the little yellow paper in her small fingers. "Where is Ja—Mr. Rives?" she asked, forcing hei.eelf with tremen dous effort to speari steadily. The gray-haired man passed his hand across his closed eyes and shud dered. "I wish to God I knew!" he ex claimed. "I” "He was—down there?" IJer HP 3 were white, but her manner was cairn. "I’m sorry, but he was. It isn’t any use. Mrs. Allan,” he said desperately. "I can’t conceal it from you. I’m afraid the accident is just about a.s bad as it can be That’s why I’m crazy to get Mr. Allan here as quick ly as possible. I’ve got to get along now. and—by the way, there is likely to be a good deal of excitement, and 1 wouldn’t roam around much if I were you." “1 won’t," said the woman, dully. And he was gone Maud groped her way back up stairs to her dressing room, where Funeral Designs and Flowers FOR ALL OCCASIONS. Atlanta Floral Company 455 EAST FAIR STREET. she locked herself In and sank into a chair, stunned. So this was the quick end of all of it! Minute after minute slipped away, and she tried in vain to rally her whirling thoughts and think clearly while that one sen tence rang over and over again in hef ears—"this is the end of it all.” It was characteristic of her that she did not weep as the full realization came to her. Jn spite of the fact of her marriage and her child, some thing had come to her of which she had long ceased to dream—the stain less love of a knightly hearted man. She had hardly slept in the night for the wond.er of it. She had felt that she was not worthy, that this was not for her, find here was the proof. She knew Enough of the tunnel workings to know that if there had been an ac cident, and Rives had not been heard from, it was because he was incapable of action—dead or dying. Then came a swift rush of rage and hitter rebellion against the tunnel and all who wrought in Its name. What bad it brought her but misery? It had cost her her husband first, and now the one man who was of fiber fine enough to place her love beyond all else had been swallowed up in Its maw in the twinkling of an eye. About her were thousands who were toiling swiftly toward the grave in pain and weariness. Probably thousands of these had been wiped out with Rives, and as many thousands of women found themselves that day as desolate as she. She would leave that day and go somewhere where she would nevei hear the accursed word "tunnel" again, and—then came a timid knock at the door, and little Edith’s voice calling. A poet who knew women—as poets are likely to—once told graceful little lines of a woman whose lord was slain, and who could not be in- i duced to weep until a wise nurse put her child in her arms. Five minute^ I after Edith had snuggled into her lap ] the mother had given the woman a new and cleaner vision. "You nun along now. darling, and ■ get dressed," she told her with a kiss. "You’re going out with mother.” The Mob. The anger and bitterness had I passed. She was no longer the lover robbed of her love. She was a wom an, and all about her was the call to which a woman is never deaf—the cry of suffering and grief and misery. Hundreds would be injured and they would be brought out and taken to the hospital. There would be wives and mothers to console and comfort. The hospital forces and supplies ! would probably have to be reinforced , from other cities. All this was part of her chosen work, and this was the I one time that she must not fail. When they were about to leave she 1 reflected that the hospital of all j places would be the last one for Edith J to spend the day. But to-day. more l thfin any other, she felt reluctant to I leave the child with the servants. She finally decided that she would take her to Mrs. Mordock, who lived only a few hundred yards from the hospital and whose little girl was Edith’s chum. She had utterly forgotten garrl- man’M warning, which was not very impressive and elected to walk through the fine rain, to prepare her self for the long day Indoors amid the odor of anesthetics and other smells suggestive of merciless clean liness which make a man shiver when he enters a hospital. The Frtreets for a time were quiet and deserted, and there was nothing to remind Maud of Harriman’s warn ing. At last she was conscious that for some time she had'been aware of a far-off murmur which was steadily growing louder and nearer. They were still on the ocean side driveway, but when they turned off into the broad avenue that led down past the hospital to the tunnel en trance the murmur suddenly swelled Into a roar. To Be Continued Monday. Snap- ^ Shots T HE bitter wound set to our keenest pain Time soothes; The furrow in our brow will go again—- Time soothes. v If memory wakens suffering at last, We feel; Life moves In struggle to forget the past, Hearts heal. But still the wound a little scar has left— Dream days Arise in thought—of sing hey are bereft. There stays But memory that stirs the old re frain, A little sob sounds in the h^irt and brain. And then "to-day" is here again. Time soothes. • • • What a grim thing it is! that you and I So Intimate, so bound by every tie. Can never read each other's secret thought— Must be contented with the glimpse we’ve caught! Can face each other calmly, eye to eye, And. with our souls protesting, speak a lie— That while you wound me with in difference, Or cruel words, or meager recom pense, your heart with love for me may be aglow. Yet looking in your eyes—I can not KNOW. A FICTIONLESS FABLE. There was once a woman whom Life hurt. It drained her heart of joy, and left it empty and throbbing with sor row. She bore It moaning for a time and then she set about filling the empty shell. She s.eized upon all the things that lay near at hand and packed them tightly into the throbbing loneliness of her barren heart. There were Cards and Song and Dancing and Wine and (Jay Compan ions and Loud Merrymaking, and she forced them all—a motley company— into the cold emptiness of her desola tion. Oblivion and the forgetfulness she sought did not come, but fever and ex citement kept her brain whirling far ftway from the sadness of reality. It chanced one day that True Love passed by, and he stopped at the door of her heart. He knocked, but the ears of her Soul were dulled with minstrelsy and its eyes were blinded by the glare and glitter of revelry, so neither Heart nor Soul could tell the woman that he who stood without was True Love. At last—and timidly—Love opened the door of the Heart that off'Jred him no welcome, but when he saw how crowd ed that heart was with tinsel and paste jewels, be sighed. "Alas! there is no room for me,’’ and went his way. And the woman went on playing that she was happy and content. But Love—hurt and slighted—would not pass that way again forevermore. —LI LI AX LAUFFERTY. By FRANCES L. GARSIDE. F OR six weeks sympathizing friends had been asking Lysander John Appleton if he had the rheuma tism. "No,” he would reply sadly, trying to make his legs, which were twisted like Harry Lauder’s walking stick,* stay on the same sidewalk—”1 am sleeping In the hammock.” “Your face,” the boys had been saying to Chaiincey Devere aft summer, “looks as if you had the smallpox.” "Marks of the buttons on the parlor lounge,” was his reply. Women stand martyrdom better, thriving on it in a measure, and Mrs. Appleton and Daysey Mayme bore no marks of trying to curve their forms over the trunk top and around the flour and sugar boj^s on the pantry shelf. No war cry such as "Remember the Maine!” ever incited soldiers to greater deeds of frenzy and devotion than the words "Remember, we have guests,” have incited women. "Where,” asked Lysander John one morning, trying in vain to straighten out his legs in such a way he could have both in the kitchen at the same time, "are my gray hat and gray suit?” "Your hat,” replied his wife, "is on the top shelf of the closet of the room occupied by Mrs. A.; your coat is under three rows of dresses in the closet of the room occupied by Mrs. B., and your trousers are being pressed under the mattress of the bed on which Mrs. C. is sleeping. They left word last night they didn’t want to be wakened before ten to-day, so go back to your hammock till they leave their rooms.” The Solution. Half an hour later, forgetting his di lemma, she carried off the suit he had been wearing to the cleaner's. A few’ minutes later the telephone rang, and Lysander Jobn, realizing that his wife had gone out and his daughter was still asleep on the pantry shelf, fell out of his hammock to answer.it. "The offTce is on fire," called his as sistant. "Better get a taxi and come at once.” He couldn't find his brown suit, and, remembering his wife’s directions of where he w'ould find the gray, burst into the room occupied fiy Mrs. A. "Fire!” he managed to stammer, trying to make the closet door shield him, as he threw out layer after layer of skirts, petticoats, waists, kimonos, jackets, dresses and coats. "Fire!” he screamed, growing so excited he threw the gar ments out of the window in trying to dig his way down to his coat. “Fire!” he howled a moment later, pulling down twenty hat boxes from the shelves of the closet of the room where slept Mrs. B. and pitching them out the window. “Fire!” he howled in greater despera tion in the third room, upsetting the guest out of bed in an effort to get his trousers from under the mattress, and “Fire!” "Fire!” "Fire!” began all the guests at once, thinking the house was ablaze. In the excitement Lysander John failed to find w'hat he wanted and rushed out of the house with a pale pink pic ture hat on his head, a blue silk ki mono over his shoulders, and his Harry Lauder walking-stick legs concealed In a petticoat. “I refuse to be bailed out,” he said defiantly next day to a friend. "I am a guest here, and it is the first chance I’ve had to sleep on a bed all summer.” Fiction. In Aiken they tell this story as having happened in Augusta, but in Augusta they tell the same story on a clergyman of Aiken: "A very devout clergyman decided to take up golf as a means of outdoor exercise. "Buying a kit of tools and hiring a caddy, the good man hit the trail for the links and teed up for a drive-off. At the first swing he missed the ball by about six yards. At the next swat he got a little nearer, but was still too far away to cause the ball any great in convenience. "Several more swings that racked his rilm, and finally the clergyman hit the little sphere. Instead of beautifully sail ing away over the scheduled route, how ever. it took a side road at the right‘an gles, ricocheted down over in the box cars and semaphores. " ‘That settles it,’ exclaimed the dis appointed clergyman in a decisive voice, T have got to give It up!’ " ‘What!’ exclaimed the caddy, won- deringly. ‘Give up golf?’ " ‘No,’ was the quick response of the clergyman, ‘the ministry.’ " You can make a satisfying luncheon of Faust Spaghetti alone—delicious, too. As a side dish for the evening dinner it adds zest and savor. Faust Spaghetti is very nutritious—it is rich in gluten, the food content that makes mus cle, bone and flesh. A 10c package of FAUST SPAGHETTI contains as much nutrition as 4 lbs of beef —ask your doctor. Comes in air-tight, mois ture-proof packages Write for free recipe book. At all Grocers'—Sc and IOc Package• MAULL BROS. St. Louis, Mo. CHICHESTER S PILLS TRK DIAMOND BRAND. a YILLE Ask for Clfi-COt A.TE1*8 IMA\h»M> RBAND PII.I.S, for SA ye*r* known •$ Be»t,S«f«$t. A!w«yj R e ii a bl« SO10 BV DRIGGISTS EVERVHMFW j THROUGH SLEEPERS Lv.7:12AM«5;lflm