Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

Their Married Life By MABEL HERBERT URNER. Advance Fashions for Fall Wear Fully Described by Olivette F ROM the top of the eteep flight of steps Helen looked down Into the dingy, dimly lit basement known as the “Chat Nolr*’—the fa mous "Black (.Tat.” “Not a very cheerful looking Joint,” commented Warren. "IVar. do you suppose It’s safe?" she said nervously. "Baedeker says some of these places are regular dens of thieves and outlaws.” “Rot!” Warren started down the steps. “Come on.” Inside was a long room with low wooden rafters, a sawdusted floor, rough, bare tables and benches, over an old brick ilreplace sat a huge blac-K cat, Whose yellow glass eyes were lit up by a lamp or candle. Around the wall ran a shelf on which was a curious collection of cats, all of thefih black. As the only lights In the place shone through the bulg Ing eyes of these animals, the effect was most weird. At one of the tables, thrse long haired, velvet-jacketed men were sip ping beer. To Helen’s amazement and embarrassment they rose as she entered, bowed, waved their glasses toward her and called out. “Voila la petite dame en blanc— and Bohemians of Montmartre was What They Meant. “What do they mean?” whispered Helen, drawing closer 10 Warren. “Your dress Is white, and they're calling out a welcome to the ‘wom.in in white.’ But it’s all a part of the fake. Those guys are hired to pose as Bohemians—to g eet the people and give the place atmosphere. ’ Helen remembered that her guid. book said that at the Black Cat the cabaret had originated, but that now this onoi favored resort of the artists and Bohemians of Monrr.artre was frequented only by sightseers. Warren w as right. These velvet- coated men were evidently hired to fake the former spirit and atmosphere of the place. An attendant now appeared and suggestively wiped off the table be fore them. Warren ordered some beer, which seemed to be the drink there. From somewhere came a shrill tin kle of a bell, and a white curtain was dropped before a miniature stage in a recess of the wall. One of the long haired youths, a stick In his hand, a slouch hat on his flowing locks, now arose and began to sing. He stood bv the toy stage, whl^h re minded Helen of the Punch and Judy theaters of her childhood. With the second verse of the rol licking French song, the black shad ows of tiny marionettes were thrown on the small curtain. •fff this Is a real shadow play, It’s good fun," exclaimed Warren, leaning forward with Interest. The smu.l figures were cleverly ma nipulated. and their black shadows danced across the white sheet in comical pantomime. When they finally flashed off, the tinv stage dark-( en* d and everybody applauded. • "Well, let’s move on." suggestel Warren “We’ve seen about all that's to be seen here. | Rather Late. "Where are we going now?" asked ■ Helen, eagerly, for they were "doing I Montmartre” to-nighi. “Might a s well take In the Rat < Mort next. But that’ll probably be a fake, too We’re twenty years too late—none of these Joints are what they used to be.” It had been drizzling when th^v came* in. and now It was raining hard. Helen drew her white skirts . l' s ns they climbed the steep, wet j 8*<?pH to the street. As there was no cab In sight, they bad no choice but to walk. and Helen | trudged along, holding her skirts with one hand and with the other clinging to Warren’s arm. There was something weirdly fasci nating In wandering through these dark, narrow streets on a rainy night. The small, dimly lit shops and black alleyways had an air of sinister mys tery. Farther on. the “Rat Mort" shone out ns the only one brightly lit spot In this dingy nieghborhood. Rut when they reached the place, they found none of the life and gayety the lights had led them to expect. It was a regular restaurant, with a space cleared for dancing. But there were only a f<*w people there, and the waiters were standing idly around. The rainy night had dis-. cou raped the sight seers. "This is too dead for us,” and Warren shook hU head at the waiter who ran forward to seat them. “Come on, let’s do some exploring I’ve a hunch that we’ll find some thing around here yet worth seeing.” As they went out Warren hailed a passing cab, bundled Helen into It and told the man to drive around Montmartre, Streets Deserted. Through the rain-blurred cab win dows the streets looked black and deserted. At length u group of flash ing lights shone out in the darkness ahead, and Warren called to the man to draw up. "You wait here while I Investigate,” and leaving Helen in the cab. War ren disappeared through the glitter ing doorway, over which flashed "Cafe Royal" in green and red letters In a few’ minutes he came out. “We’ll take a chance on that. Some thing’s doing In there, all right.” Even from the sidewalk Helen could hear the music anti shrieks of laugh ter. Inside the scene was bewilder ing. The long, crowded room was ablaze with lights. Dancing girls is short ballet skirts were whisking about in the small space for dancing. The tables were arranged along the walls. hh at Maxim’s, but here the noise and hilarity were unlike anything they had seen. The diners were throwing confetti, singing, cheering, and the air was thick with smoke and heavy with the odor of champagne. There seemed not a vacant place, but at fat, red- fared Frenchman In tlght-flttlng evening clothes, evidently the pro prietor, found them two seats near the orchestra. "Will w r e have to order cham pagne?” demurred Helen, who strong ly objected to paying a high price for a wine that she really dMlked. "That’s all right here. They're giv ing you something for your money. Pretty gay, eh?" as a girl in a red spangled skirt frisked by, her skirts so stiff and short that they brushed a match-safe from their table Felt Nervous. The man who was sitting next to Helen had his arm around the pretty French girl with him. Another girl had tied her pink chiffon hat with Its velvet streamers on the head of her black-mustached escort. Helen was not sure that she want ed to stay. She felt Just a little ner vous, the gayety was a bit too loud and too hilarious. But Warren was enjoying it hugely. At a high desk in the comer sat a stout Frenchwoman, probably the wife of the proprietor. It was she who checked off the bottles of cham pagne as they were carried out, made change for the waiters and kept a general shrewd surveillance over everything Plainly It was her policy to keep up the gayety, for the greater the gayety the more frequent the orders for wine And now. when for a mo ment the merriment flagged, she beckoned one of the dancing girls and gave her a large paper filled with colored balls. With a shout, the girls tosseu the balls among the guests Then fol lowed a fast volley of Are back and forth. The gay little balls, about the size of a walnut, were light enough to be thrown freely without harm “Why, I believe that girl’s trying to swat me," grinned Warren, as he dodged the third ball thrown direct ly at him by a pretty girl sitting with a French officer across the room Watch me give her one,” hut he succeeded only in hitting the bald head of a passing waiter. The girl threw another which War ren caught and tossed back with better aim. For the next few mo ments they pelted each other until the balls were all broken. Helen could not help thinking It rather un dignified. Warren did not often un bend like this, but perhaps It was the spirit of the place. When this diversion had died out. the Ingenious madamo produced a bag of toy balloons and later another of confetti. “They know how to make the thing pay here," declared Warren. "But that’s all right, they’re working hard to give the people what they think they want.” In the next lull the orchestra rose and marched gayly, In single flle. ( around the room. The cellist held his Instrument over his head, and twanged on it like a banjo, while a violinist carried the base violin, beat ing It fts a drum. After them pranced the dancing girls, the first one clutching the coat- tail of the last musician, and the other girls swinging on to each oth er’s short, fluffy skirts. The girls stamped and kicked and swished their saucy spangled skirts against the tables as they passed. This frisky procession was greeted with wild clapping and shrieks of laughter. Getting Boisterous. “Dear, I don’t think I like this." demurred Helen. "It’s getting too boisterous.” "Huh, and you’ve been crazy to see this sort of thing! That’s like a woman. But all right, come on- guess I’ve had enough. Too blamed much noise and smoke.” Outside It was still raining, but the damp air was cool and fresh "That place was all right,” mused Warren. “Of course most of that hullabaloo was forced—those dancing girls were paid to keep it up. But that came nearest to being the real thing of anything we’ve struck yet.” j A VERY unusual suit is this, ** with its bretelles extend ing down to form the outer stripes of the muff, which is fashioned of the same silky zibeline used for the suit. The skirt is a simple circu lar affair, with a slight up ward draping into a narrow, half belt at the back. The coat is cut single- breasted, and fastens down the center front from throat to hem with large crocheted buttons. The collar is a Robespierre, with tiny cords extending from its front corners and ending in balls of the astrak han or Persian which is used to trim the bretelles and muff. The feature of the suit is, of course, the combination collar and muff. This collar starts from a deep yoke-like point in the back, crosses the shoulders in six-inch bands, whose inner edge is in turn banded with the fur, and down the center of which is an applique braiding in applied points. A crossbar extends across the chest, and joins the two sides of this unique cloth “chain.” • The muff is made in five panels—the outer ones being the continuation of the shoul der bands, the next repeating the motive and pattern of the outer band, with the braiding and fur slightly wider than that used in the bretelles. For the center panel of the muff the zibeline is used. The woman who likes novel ty in her costumes will find this a most useful if unusual way of having her muff ever safely at hand. —OLIVETTE. V Neat, Becoming and Inexpensive. Should a Girl Kiss Her Cousin? By BEATRICE FAIRFAX. Always Reliable Relief from the ailments caused by disordered stomach, torpid liver, irregular bowels is given —quickly, safely, and assur edly—by the tried and reliable BEECHAM’S PILLS S*ld where. Is hoses. 10c., 2Sc, On one occasion when a certain Parliamentary candidate, known as a clever speaker and very effective In dealing with a hostile audlnce, was ad dressing a meeting In his constitu ency, he had no sooner risen and said, “Gentlemen,” than someone threw' an egg at him. Quite unperturbed, he turned to the offender and said: “I was not speaking to you, sir.” “Well, did you discover anything In Stump’s past lifo that we can use against him?” Detective—Not a thing. All be ever did before he came here was to sell aw ningft Election Agent—WTiy, that’s Just what we want. We’ll say that he has been mixed up in some decidedly shady transactions. The ferry- boat was well on her wav when a violent storm arose, and fears were entertained for her safety. The ferryman ind his mate (both Highlanders) held a consultation, and after a short debate, the ferryman turned to his passenger* and re marked anxiously: "We’ll Just tak’ yer tuppences now. for we dlnna ken what micht come ower us." "What’s the matter, old chap** You look as if you hadn't had a wink of sleep all night.” “I haven’t You see, my wife threatened never to speak to me again if I didn’t come home last night be fore 10 o’clock, and I didn't." “I see; you're finding out the lone someness of solitude bec ause she kept her word, eh?’’ “Not by a jugful. I w ish she had.’’ A commercial’traveler tells of seeing In a certain cemetery the epitaph, "Sa cred to the memory of .lames Perkins, for thirty years senior partner of the firm of Perkins A Parker, now Parker A Co., who hope to merit a continuance of your patronage " S HE’S e HE’S engaged and she has a good- g cousin. When she meets the good-look ing cousin he # kisses her. and when he leaves her he kisses her again. The fiance says the cousin has got to stop kissing his sweetheart or there will be trouble, and now the sweetheart writes me a letter to know what to do about it. “I like my cousin, and I don’t want to hurt his feelings,'’ says the girl who gets kissed; "but 1 love my sweetheart and don’t want to make him really an gry. Still, l don’t think he ought to be so bossy, do you and isn’t it all right for cousins to kiss” We have always done it in our family." Well, now. little girl, Just because you have always done a thing In your family is no reason at all why it is the right thing to do. Is It? Why Not? And then your sweetheart doesn’t be long to your family—and never will— you will belong to his family, and per haps they don’t ki»s—in that circle— not cousins, anyhow and so you’ll have to think it over ard do what sweet heart wants you to do about the kiss ing Why not? What la there so entrancing about kissing that cousin that you even hes itate a minute about turning your cheek the other way when you see him com ing' Silly—your sweetheart’s idea about it? Well maybe and maybe not; but any how. it Is his idea, and why shouldn’t you please him in the matter? What if he likes blue and you keep on wearing pink what if he likes chick en and you insist on ordering veal. What if he likes poetry and you want him to read the millinery “ads"—do you think these things will tend to make ! him that much fonder of you" Why not give up to him in this mat ter it is, after all, unimportant to you and Important to him—wh&t’a the use of making a fuss about it? I know a woman and a man who di vorced each other because the man played the guitar and the wife wouldn’t play his accompaniments on the piano. It didn’t end with that, but it’s how the whole trouble began. What a goose that woman was not to play any old accompaniment her husband thought he wanted! What hurt could it have done her or any one else? What’s the difference, anyhow? If you love the man you want to please him, don't you? Well, a wfse woman told me once that the way to please a man was to give up to him in all the little things that don’t count and hang on to your own way in all the big things that do count—he’ll be willing to give up to you in them. Men don’t mind big sacrifices. A man will give you $100 and quarrel over 10 cents too much on the grocery bill. That’s the way men are made. Why not make up your mind to take them as they are and not as you think they should be, and then, honestly, now, hasn’t Sweetheart a pretty cousin some where? If he has. Just get her to come and see you. and every time Sweetheart kisses pretty cousin see how you feel about it. That may help you to under stand Sweetheart's attitude a little bet ter. Out of Fashion. Remember, you are used to cousin— you see in him Just good old Dick, who taught you to skate and to swim-when he fp t like it and you promised to make him enough fudge to pay for lessons; and he sees him as a gay deceiver. Maybe he is one. too, even if he Is your cousin. And besides, little girl, kissing is out of fashion except among real sweet hearts; didn’t you know that? Ten years ago every time you had tea with a friend she kissed you when you came and kissed you when you went. The woman who tries to kiss a friend now except in really solemn times is looked upon as Jurft the least little bit in bad form. Didn’t you know that? Hand holding has gone out, too, and wa’st spanning. Girls don’t paw each I other the way they used to. And cous ins— well, cousins aren't nearly so much l relation to each other as they were when they were all liable to be brought up under the same roof. Keep cousin at a distance, little girl, to please your self as well aa your Sweetheart. It can't do any harm and it may do a whole lot of good. THE TUNNEL GREATEST STORY OF ITS KIND SINCE JULES VERNE fTrrtm of Bernhard K*n«rmawv— ©♦nr an »er»1nn Copyrlghtdd, 1918. by a Pitcher V*ri«*. Berlin hnfliah translation an* compilation by (Ccpjrrighted. 1913. by Internitional New* tjorrlon.) TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT. The financier almost eagerly took a seat, and, as he was composing him self, he reflected that this was the first time Allan had ever addressed him without the prefix of "Mr.” He had always longed for that familiar ity, but he found no comfort in it now. His cigar, less than half burned, was out; but he threw It away and lit another. Allan watched him in si lence, and Wolf wished that the light ing qf the cigar might consume an hour. At last he threw the match away and leaned back. “I'm terribly distressed about Ran- son,” he said, in tones that he strove to make grave and pitying “He was an extraordinarily bright man. He would have been invaluable to us in a few years, Mr. Allan." Allan nodded grimly. “He certainly was bright,” he con ceded acidly. “One of the brightest young men that ever handled books, by all accounts. As to hie probable future value, there is a field for a wide difference of opinion.” “Why, what do you mean?” asked Wolf, with a well-feigned stare of surprise. "Is anything wrong?” Allan laughed; but the sound of it did not move his visitor to Join in. “Tf there is anything wrong with Hanson’s accounts," declared Wolf, sitting up proudly. “I will assume full responsibility, as I wired you.” The Charge. Allan leaned forward, his lips set in a thin line. “T.et’s leave Ranson out of it. Wolf," he said, grimly. "Ranson is dead—his chapter is closed. I didn t call you back to talk about Ranson, but about Ranson’s bookkeeping." "Well, what of it?” The other at tempted to bluster. "Just this much—you have embez zled something like $10,000,000!" Wolf knew that he should spring up at this point in indignant denials, but Allan’s eyes—cold, hard and men acing—held him. He moistened his lips. "You must be crazy, Mr. Allan! he gasped. Allan looked him over swowly, from head to foot. "Is that all you have to say be fore I call a policeman?” Wolf swallowed hard, but at la-t managed to find some semblance of his natural voice. “Why, Mr Allan, you must be out of your mind!” he cried. "You have had someone going over my books in my absence? You have, eh? Well, you might know that no mere ac countant could understand these transactions. I know perfectly well that our cash shows’ a shortage of some millions Just at this time. That has happened once* or twice before when I have been on the wrong side of the market!" “Oh! It has?” “Why, certainly!” returned Wolf, with some return of confidence as he felt his voice swelling • out. “You know what my transactions are— what my business for the syndicate is. As I telegraphed you—you could understand—I have not been lucky this time—pretty near the first time, too. I sold cotton too early, on the advice of that fool Harding In Dlver- pool. I fired him. Then I held on to tin too long. I don’t often get two facers like that in a row, and I’m sor ry—but I’ll have it all cleaned up and a healthy balance showing by the first of the year.” "I hope we will,” said Allan, grimly. “I am sure we will,” declared Wolf. “I said ‘we,* not ‘you,’ ” Allan cor rected him, with icy precision. Wolf gulped and chewed his cigar. “I don’t think you ought to take It this way, Mr. Allan,” he pleaded, un steadily. “I have made millions for the syndicate, and it Isn’t fair to talk about embezzling when I make a mis take. I knew you needed money, and I was desperate to get It, and it led to making mistakes that I couldn’t—” “That’s enough, Wolf,” interrupted the chief, half raising his hand. “You know’ perfectly well that the syndi cate will back you up without a word In any losses you Incur when you are handling the syndicate’s money for the syndicate’s profit to the best of your ability. In this case you were not doing that/* "But, Mr. Allan, that isn’t true!” cried Wolf, desnerately. "I have al ways worked for the Syndicate in everything that—— 1 " "Drop it, Wolf,” snapped Allan. "I’m tired of listening to these lies. You aren't even man enough to own up. You have been speculating on your own account with the Syndi cate’s money. You have deposited these sums, aggregating something like $10,000.000—and w’e don’t know yet how much more—In European banks in the name of Wolfson—not the Tunnel Syndicate. You have been gambling with money that we need— cash that we need badly, and you’ve | lost it. You’re a plain crook—and if you’re alive by this time to-morrow, | you’ll be arrested. Now—get out!" At these words Wolf’s returning confidence dropped from him like a mask. He got unsteadily to his feet. | "What?” he gasped. "Me—arrest ed” "I hope not,’’ replied Allan, with sinister meaning. It was a sentence of death—and so Wolf understood it. But he saw one ray of hope and grasped at It. “But you can’t mean that! ha pleaded, desperatelv. "Think of all the work that I have done and that remains for me to do for the Syndi cate. Why, I’ve made millions for you and ” , .. "That was your duty,” cut In Al lan, mercilessly. "You were paid w’ell for that.” ; "Certainly! certainly!” agreed Wolf, with pitiful eagerness. "But this—this last*—• doesn’t amount to very much, Mr. Allan. It can be fixed up in a few months—and I am the only man who can do it." There was no softening in Allan’s grim face and Wolf played his trump. “All right!" he cried, “have me ar rested—have me tided! I’ll go down —but the Syndicate will go down with me!” Now, Allan knew that this was the mere truth. In its present shaky financial condition, the Syndicate could not stand a blow like the ar rest, or even the suicide, of Wolf, Ranson’s sudden death had been made to appear an accident—publicly at least. But, privately,' it was believed to be a suicide in Just the quarters where such belief could work the moat harm. If Wolf’s death or arrest—and on such a charge—came on top of the Ranson incident, nothing could save the Syndicate from a crash and a money panic would follow such as the W’orld had never seen before. But Allan was human and he was swayed by human weaknesses at times. Being a strong man, he was a strong hater. He hated Wolf in the first place just because he was Wolf. Now he hated him doubly because he was a pitiful cow’ard. If it had been pos sible he would have escaped under the cover of the death of his tool, Ranson. And now he was making a aroveling nlea for mercy. Allan thought that Wolf ought to kill him self out of respect for mankind, but this was not the time for him to do it. He would simply scare him to the limit and let him off until there w r as a safer time to crush him. “The Syndicate is my business,” he said. “But you can’t w’ant to drive me to death!” gasped Wolf, hoarsely. “You don’t mean that, Allan. I’ll make restitution inside of three weeks. I will—as sure as I’m alive I’ll ” “That’ll do. Wolf. I’ve said my last word. Get out!" Wolf staggered into his car and told the chauffeur to drive him to his apartment on Riverside Drive. He was still In a sort of trance when he arrived there. He took three or four drinks of brandy. The thought of food almost nauseated him. He paced up and down his rooms, chewing unlit cigars, and every time he passed the buffet he grasped a bottle at random and poured himself a drink. He did not know what it was he was drink ing, and none of it had any effect. Once, when he went to the front windows, he noticed that a car was standing across the way from his own. The chauffeur was tinkering with the engine. It must have been a pretty bad breakdown, for the car remained all the time he was In his apartment. Finally he went downstairs and or dered himself driven to his club. The chauffeur across the street seemed to have repaired the damages at last, for he started off after Wolf’s car. Wolf saw him and understood. De tectives were watching him. A man named De Maupassant once wrote a story in which he told of a coward who wrestled with himself all night before he was to fight a duel and finally committed suicide to avoid it. Wolf was a coward, and, if you have ever read this story, you will understand what w r as passing in his mind. The worst that could overtake him would be arrest, liberation on ball, a trial on a highly technical charge with plenty of room for clever de fense. To the average man In these circumstances the thought of suicide would be almost humorous. Winnings, But to Wolf anything seemed pref erable to arrest. It was not the dis grace or the ordeal of trial and pos sible conviction that daunted him. He thought of none of these things. His disordered mind simply shrank from the picture of a detective laying his hand on his shoulder. His distraught manner attracted some attention at the club, but he went into the gambling room and gambled for big stakes, laughing loudly and drinking much, for his luck was phenomenal. He played all night, his luck shifting somewhat, but when morning came and he finally withdrew, he had more than $20,000 in checks in his pocket and a few hundred in cash of his own. When he went ouf Into the street after a cup of coffee, he was con scious that a man reading a news paper on the curb glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and walked slowly down after him, ostentatiously studying the numbers of the houses as if looking for an address. In a few minutes he lost sight of him. but he knew that this man and others were watching him. When he reached his apartment he was so tired physically that his mind became truly active at last, after 34 hours of numbness. He began to think clearly, or what he thought was clearly. Then a perfectly simple and smooth plan presented Itself to him. He would go away! He knew, of course, that any at tempt to draw money at his own bank would only precipitate what he dreaded. But he had hia gambling winnings in his pocket. He telephoned to h broker, told him a perfectly plauslbel lie and had him send up $20,000 in cash for the che«cks. While the money was on the way ha bathed and dressed. His idea was to go out opanly, spend the entire day in shaking off detectives, slip into the subway, go north to the terminus and atriks crosw-country to a small railroad sta tion and board a Canadian train there For an hour he ducked and dodged and doubled In the maelstrom, and when he was certain that he had shaken off his pursuers, he made for Central Park as a final teat. He roamed the park for an hour and saw no sign of a detective. Then he called a cab and went to a barber shop, where he had hls hair cut ahort and his mustache removed. The Disguise. There was a little clothing store a few doors down from the barber shop —over on the East Side. Here he bought a new outfit of cheap clothes, which he donned at once. It was dark now and he went forth confident that he was safe. He found a cab at Twenty-eighth street and drove to the address near the subway station at Worth street, which he fig ured would be little used on the up town side at that hour. He was right. When he walked through the gate onto the platform, there was no one in sight, but a few moments later a man came througn the gate. He opened a newspaper and glanced at it, paying no attention tj Wolf. The latter was so certain that he had eluded pursuit that he gave the stranger no more than a passing glance—but that was enough. He recognized him, with a start, as a man who had played poker with him on the way over from Europe! For an Instant Wolf almost swaye l on his feet under the shock. Then it flashed through his mind that hls dis guise must be perfect, as this man did not recognize him. But that thought had barely come to comfort him when it was driven away by an other. suppose this man was one of Allan’s detectives, watching him on his way home! He timidly eyed him again, but h? could not see his face. It was con cealed behind the newsnaper. There was a rumble of an approaching train as Wolf walked slowly past for a closer scrutiny. Then he saw that the paper had a little slit or tear up the middle, through which the stranger could watch him when he pleased! The train roared into the station and Wolf, with a sudden yell of de spair, turned and cast himself under the wheels Just as ths detective leaped for him. The Panic. I T was five minutes after 7 •'clock when Wolf v vs '’round to pieces under the wheels of the subway train. At ten past 7 Allan knew what had happened. At a quarter past he was in conference with the head of the publicity department, and the provisional head of finance, while his secretary was getting the directo u on the telephone for a special meeting at 9 o’clock. To Be Continued To-morrow. FRECKLES Don’t Hldo Thom With a Voftj Re* J move Them With the Othlne Prescription. Thle oreecription for the removal of freckle* was written by a prom inent physician and Is usually so successful In removing freckles and giving a clear, beautiful complexion \ that it is sold by Jacobs' Pharmacy > under an absolute guarantee to re- ) fund the money If It fails. • Don’t hide your freckle# trader a veil; get an ounce of othlne and re move them. Even the first few ap plications should show a wonderful improvement, some of the lighter freckles vanishing entirely. Be sure to ask the druggist for the double strength othlne; It is this that is sold on the money-back guar antee. Funeral Designs and Flowers FOR ALL OCCASIONS. Atlanta Floral Company 455 EAST FAIR STREET. The Best Food-Brink Lunch at Fountains KODAKS TM Nil ff l •«•*)» f Ml let•ff- l*| Th«r C*B •• Sr*4*e*4 * tu(®u FT.naj and oota- plate stock amateur rapr>n«*. lr*« few mit-nf V’wn ev**om«r* Send for Catalog and Pries LIM. A. K. HAWKES CO. i« Whitoh.ll at.. Atlanta, insist Upon 1ML UADI lAK/^C GENUINE nUuLlVfl 9 Avoid Imitations—Take No Substitute Rich millc, malted grain, in powder form. For infants, invalids and growing children. Pure nutrition,upbuilding the whole body. Invigorates nursing mothers and the aged. More healthful than tea or coffee. Agree* with the weakest digestion. Keep it on your sideboard at home. A quick lunch prepared m a minute. Preserve Your Charms Don’t Let Your Hair Grow Gray 3 EAUTIFUL hair make, a beautiful woman, and faded or gray hair la an Indica tion of old age Irrespective of years. If your hair is faded and turning gray, restore It to Its original color and youth ful beauty with Robinnaire Hair Dye It is not a common dye to bleach or change the natural color of the hair. It Is a scientific and successfui color restorer and win bring back the original color to faded or gray hair, and make It lustrous sad beau tiful again. Quickly and easily applied, and as it does not stain tbs scalp nor make hair sticky, no one can detect It For a quarter century thousands of women, and men, too. have been using it with best results Prepared for light, medium and dark brown and black hair, and for sale at drugglsta and toilet goods departments; 75e. If you can not on- cure It. sent by parcel post. 83e. Send us the name and sddreee of your druggist with your order and we will send you FREE samples of the world-rsnowned Robinnaire Cace Powder and Cold Cream of Roses. Jacobs' Pharmacy Co. Atlanta, G*. *