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Their Married Life By MABEL HERBERT URNER. ROM the top of the steep flight of 1 tables were arranged along the walls, is at Maxim's, hut here the noise and hilarity were unlike anything they had seen. The diners were throwing confetti, singmg, cheering, and the air was hic k with smoke and heavy with .the odor of champagne. There seemed not a vacant place, but at fat, red faced Frenchman in t ight-fit ting evening clothes, evidently the pro prietor. found them two seats near l the orchestr^. . “Will we have to order cham pagne?” demurred Helen, who strong ly objected to paying a high price for a wine that she really dl®Tked. “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 ma* eh -safe from their table. Felt Nervous. jF* steps Helen looked down int the dingy, dimly lit basement known as the "Chat Nolr*’—the fa mous “Black Cat.” “Not a very cheerful looking Joint,” commented Warren. “Dear, do you suppose it’s safe?” she said nervously. “Baedeker says ome 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 fireplace sat a huge blacg cat, whose yellow glass eyes were Mt up by a lamp or candle. Around the wall ran a shelf on which was a curious collection of cats, all of them 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, three 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?” whlsperea Helen, drawing closer to Warren. “Your dress is white, and they’re calling out a welcome to the ‘womvi in white.’ But it's a 11 a part of the fake. Those guys are hired to pose a* Bohemians—to g eet the people an 1 give the place atmosphere.’ Helen remembered that her guld book said that at the Black Cat th-’ cabaret had oris nated, but that nov* this once favored resort of the artists and Bohemians of Mon mart re .was frequented only by sightseers Warren was right. These velvet- coated men were evidently h red »o fake the fuimer 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 mini iture 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 by the toy stage, which re minded Helen of the Punch and Judy theaters of her ch’ldhood. With the second verse of the rol licking French song, the black shad ows of tiny marionettes were thrown on the small curtain. "If this is a real shadow play, it's good fun,” exclaimed Warren, leaning forward with interest. The nmi» I figures were cleverly ma nipulated. and their black shadows danced across th« white sheet in ccmicai pantomime. When they finally Hashed off the tiny stage dark-* ened and everybody applauded. “Well, let's move on." suggeste 1 Warren. “We’ve seen about ull that’s to be seen here. Rather Late. “Where are we Koine now?” asUel Helen, eagerly, for they "ore doing Mon-rnartre" to-night. "Might a a well take In the ltat Mori next. But tlial'll probably be a fake, too We're twenty yearn too late -none of three joints are what thev used to be.” It had been drizzling when th” ram- in. and now It was ratn'ng hat-. Helen drew her white skirts el,.,- -ic ;i-ev climbed the steep, wet steps to I he street. As there wan no cab In sight, they had no choice but to walk. . nd Helen trudged along, holding her skirts with one hand and with the other clinging to Warren’s arm There was something weirdly fasci nation In wandering through these dark, narrow s.reets on a rainy night. The small, dimly lit shops and Mack alleyways had an air of sinister mjs- terv. Farther on. the "Bat Mart” shone out a. the only one brightly lit spot In this dingy nleghborhood. But 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 few people there, and the waiters were standing Idly around. The rainy night had dis couraged the sightseers. "This Is too dead for us," and Warren shook his head at tlie 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 a group of flash ing lights shone out in the darkness ahead, and Warren called to tlie 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, ull right.” Even from the sidewalk Helen could bear the music and 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 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. Hhe telt 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 bottle* of cham pagne as they were carried out. made change for the waiters and 1 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 tossed the ba’ls among the guests. Then fol lowed a fast volley of tire back and forth. The gay little balls, about the size ot % a walnut, were light enough to be thrown freelv without harm “Why, 1 believe that girl’s trying to swat me,” grinned Warren, as he dodged the third ball thrown dlrect- lv at him by n pretty girl sitting with a French officer across the room “Watch me give her one,” but he succeeded onlv In hitting the bald head of a pass'ng 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 madame produced a bag of ;ov 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 wrtat they think thev want.” In the next lull the orchestra rose and marched gayly, In single tt’e, around the room. The cellist held his Instrument over hls head, and twanged on It like a banjo, while a violinist carried the base violin, beat ing it as a drum. After them pranced the dancing girls, the firs* 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 thev passed This frisky procession was greeted with wild clapping and shrieks of laughter. Getting Boisterous. "Doai^ 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 1 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.” Advance Fashions for Fall Wear Fully Described by Olivette rp j y j -V r 'T'T T1V T1V TT7T GREATEST STORY OF ITS 1 FI lA 1 U IN 1N KIND SINCE JULES VERNE iTrnrn lb* German of KoMerroann— |f*n’iin Copyn^h ed. 1918, by S- fr v her Verlag. B«r!in Kngliah translation an4 rtiii . at t n 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 1 * 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. f&oro ey Neat, Becoming and Inexpensive. Should a Girl Kiss Her Cousin? By BEATRICE FAIRFAX. Up-to-Date Jokes iiiways Keuaoie 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 »»Hrwk»r*, Ln kwat«, 10c., 25c. On one occasion when a certain Parliamentary candidate, known us a clever speaker and very effective In uea Ing with a hostile audlnce, was ad dressing a meet ng ln hls constitu ency, he had no sooner rif*en 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 ln Stump’s past life that we can use against him?” Detective—Not a thing. All he ever did before he came here was to sell awnings. Election Agent—Why, that’s just what we want. We'll say that he has been mixed lip ln 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 and hls mate (both Highlanders) held a consultation, ard after a short debate, the ferryman turned to his passengers and re marked anxiously: “We’ll Just tak’ yer tuppences now', for we dlnna ken what mi chi come ower us." “What’s the matter, old chap? You look as if you hadn't had a wink of sleep all night.” ”1 haven't. You see, my wife threatened never to speak to me again If 1 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 because she kept her word, eh?” “Not by a jugful. 1 wish she had.” A commercial traveler tells of seeing ln a certain cemetery the epitaph, '^Sa- ored to the memory of James Perkins, for thirty years senior partner of the firm of Perkins & Parker, now Parker A; Co., who “hope to merit a continuance of your patronage." S HE’S engaged and she has a good- loklng 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 hls 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 1 don’t want to hurt hls feelings," says the girl who gets kissed; "but I love my sweetheart ami don’t want to make him really an gry. Still, I 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 ln our family." Well, now. little girl, just because you have always done a thing In your tamlly is no reason at nil 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 kiss in that circle— not cousins, anyhow—and so you'll have to think it over ami do what sweet heart wants you to do about the kiss ing Why not? What is 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 hls 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? Wiry not gi\e up to him in this mat ter—It Is, after all, unimportant to you and important to him—what’s the use of making a fuss about It? 1 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. WI\at 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 b g 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 fe 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 j a friend she kissed you when yoi^ came | and kissed you when you went. The j woman who tries to kiss a friend now except in really solemn times is looked ! upon as just the least little bit In bad form. Didn’t you know that ? Hand holding has gone out, too, and waist spanning. Girls don’t paw each other the way they used to. And cous ins—well, cousins aren’t hearly so much illation 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 as your Sweetheart. It can’t do any harm and it may do a whole lot of good. n tCcpyrUbted, 1§13. by Internationa] New* Serrlc*.). TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT. ! ity, but he found no comfort in it now. Hls cigar, less than half burn d, was out; but he threw it away and lit another. Allan watched him ln si lence, and Wolf wisher' that the light ing of the cigar might consume an hour. At last he threw the match The financier almost eagerly took 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- i\vay 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 hi* 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 ldughed; but the sound of it did not move his visitor to join in. “If there is anything wrong with Panson’s accounts.” declared Wolf, sitting up proudly. “I will assume ful? responsibility, as I wired you.” TT-e Charge. Allan leaned forward, his lips set in a thin line. “let’s leave Hanson out of It, Wolf,” he said, grimly. “Hanson is dead—his chapter is closed. I didn’t call vou back to talk about Ranson. but about Ranson’s bookkeeping” “Well, what of it?” The ^ tempted to bluster. “Just this much—you have embez zled something like $10,000,000!” Wo’.f knew that ne should spring up at this point ln 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 swa’lowed hard, but at last 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 ln 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 show's 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' w’hat my transactions are— what my business for the syndicate is. As I telegraphed you—you could understand—l h »vc not been lucky this time—pretty near the first time, too. I sold cotton too early, on the advice of that fool Harding in Liver pool. I fired him. Then I held on to tin too long. I don’t often get two facers like that in sL row, and T’m sor ry—but I’ll have it al» cleaned up and a healthy balance showing by the first of the year.” “I hope w’e will,” said Allan, gTimly. “I am sure we will,” declared Wolf. “I said ‘we,’ not ‘you,’ ” Allan cor rected him, with icy precision. Wolf efiilped and chewed hls cigar. “I don’t think you ought to take H this way, Mr. Allan,” he pleaded, un steadily. “I have made millions for the syndicate, and it isn’t fair to talk about embezz’ing 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, desperately. “I have al ways worked for the Syndicate in i everything that ” “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—qnd we don’t know yet how’ much more—in European banks in the name of Wolf son—not the Tunnel Syndicate- You have been gambl’ng 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, witn sinister meaning. It w'as 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 w’ork 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 well 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 tried! 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 most harm. If Wolf’s death or arrest—and on such a charge—came on tgp of the Ranson incident, nothing could save the Syndicate from a crash and a money panic would follow such as the world had never seen before. But Allan was human and he was swayed by human weaknesses at times. Being a strong man, he w’as 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 coward. If it*had been pos sible he would have escaped under the cover of the death of his tool. Ranson. And now he was i%iking a r roveling 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 was a safer time to crush him. "The Syndicate is my business,” he said. “But you can’t want to drive me to deata!” 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 pa sed 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 ear. 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 was passing in his mind. The worst that could overtake him would be arrest, liberation on bail, 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 attentioti 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 out into the street after a cup of coffee, he was con- ‘•cious that a man reading a news paper on the curl) 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 h< knew* that this man and others were watching him. When he reached hls apartment he was so tired physically that hls mint became truly active at last, after 24 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 hi dreaded. But he had his gambling winnings in his pocket. He telephoned to a broker, told him a perfectly plausibel lie and had him send up $20,000 in cash for the checks. While the money was on the way he bathed and dressed. His idea was to go out openly, spend the entire day in shaking oft detectives, slip Into the subway, go north to the terminus and strike yrovs-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 test. 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 his hair cut short and his mustache removed. The Disguise. There was a little olothing store a few doors down from the barber shop —over on the East Side. Here ho 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 th'e 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 an? glanced at It, paying no attention t.j Wolf. The latter was so certain that he had eluded pursuit that he gave the stranger no more than a pass ng glance—but that was enough. Ho 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 swayed on hls feet under the shock. Then it Hashed through his mind that his dis guise must be perfect, as this m in did not recognize him. But that thought had barely come to comfort him when It was driven away by an other. tsuppose this man was one of Allan’s detectives, watching him on hls way home! He timidly eyed him again, but ha could not see his face. It was con cealed behind the newspaper. There was a rumble of an approaching train as Wolf walked slowly past for n 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 statlou and Wolf, with a s.udden yell of de spair. turned and cast himself under the wheels just as the detective leaped for him. The Panic. I T was five minutes after 7 o’clock when Wolf \ is ^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 i the publicity department, and the : provisional head of finance, while his i secretary was getting the direct.) *s I on the telephone for a special meeting I at 9 o’clock. To Be Continued To-morrow. FRECKLES Don’t Hide Them With a Vellj Re* mova Them With the Othlne Prescription. This prescription for the removal of freckles was written by a prom inent physician and Is usually so sful ’ 1 “ successful in removing freckles and giving a clear, beautiful complexion that it i3 sold by Jacobs' Pharmacy under an absolute guarantee to re fund the money if It fails. Don’t hide your freckles under a veil, get an ounce of othine and re move them Even the first few ap- f tlicatiors should show a wonderful mprovement, some of the lighter freckles vanishing entirely. Be sure to ask the druggist for the double strergth othine; It la this that Is sold on the money-back guar antee. Funeral Designs and Flowers FOR ALL^OCCASIONS. 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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 successful color restorer and will bring hack the original c-ulor to faded or gray hair, and make It lustrous and beau tiful again. Quickly and easily applied, and as It does not stain the 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 blhck hair, and for 9ale at druggists and toilet goods departments; 75c. If you can not pro cure It, sent by parcel post, 83c. Send us the name end address of your druggist with your order and we will send you FREE samples of the world-renowned Rohinnalia Face Powder and Cold Cream of Roses. Jacobs’ Pharmacy Co. Atlanta, Ga. ii