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j \ 1 #' r ML Beauty Secrets of Beautiful Women Drink Buttermilk, and Don’t Cry, Says Smiling Dorothy Brenner Buttermilk my very pet (From tii* Herman »er*ion. ^ Fischer Verlaf, Berlin. eompiUtfon by - of Bernhard Kellenn&aa— Copyrighted, 1S1*. by A meUUon ac4 English tnu (Copjrlziit«d. 1*1*. by UtUDJboMi 1 Sews Service.). TO-DAY'S INSTALLMENT. Something gripped Allan’s heart like a steel band. “Tou do not mean to say that the public opinion of the world would tol erate the utter abandonment of the enterprise after all the money and ef fort that has gone into It?” he cried. Lloyd nodded slowly. ‘What I ipean to say is something very much to that effect,” he replied, gravely. “I do not know—I do not think that it will always be so; but that is undoubtedly the feeling to day.” “But I can’t believe it!” Allan In sisted. “Yet, the explanation is simple and clear,” said Mr. Lloyd. "Until the tun nel is actually completed and in op eration it is a money-devouring lia bility and in no sense an asset. We have had stroke after stroke of bad luck. There is a sort of superstition in many minds that the tunnel will never be finished, no matter how much is put ifi or how much money is punk.” "But I don’t see how we can be sure of ‘this without at least making the effort!” "There is some justice In that,” con ceded the financier, "but I can assure you that you can take my word for what I say. Here is one of the best Indications—there is no trading at all in Tunnel securities.” The expression of Allan's face in dicated that he did not understand how this proved anything. “You see, Mr. Allan, ther^ are a number of men who make a good liv ing on the Stock Exchange—fortune? often—by determining accurately what public opinion is on a given matter. Now, if there were any re mote possibility that the public would demand a resumption of the tunnel digging or that the public could be induced to finance It, these men womd be quietly buying up securities, which have practically no market value to day. The Reason. "Men who have the securities now are for the most part Investors, not speculators. They have not sold them to the speculators, simply because the speculators won’t buy at a fly price. To get rid of them they wouid literally have to give them away. So there is no trading in tunnel stock at all.” "But if we began operations on thf smaller scale that I suggested—if among the big financiers we could raise the money necessary for a start, wouldn’t it turn the current of public opinion in our favor again?” demand ed Allan. "On the contrary,” returned the other, "if the people’s money is to build the tunnel the people’s money must do it. To raise a sum—no matter how large—for limited work would be a transparent bluff, a con fession of weakness. We must either go ahead at fulj blast—or stand still.” “And it is not possible to go ahead at full blast?” “I am sorry to say that it is quite impossible,” declared Lloyd. Allan was silent for a full minute trying to rally his line of attack, hopelessly shattered by this blow. "What do you think of it yourself, Mr. Lloyd?” he asked at last. "Do you believe in the tunnel?” "Absolutely,” was the instant re ply. "I more than believe in the tun nel, Mr. Allan—I believe in you. But the public, unfortunately, does not. And we must wait—wait.” It was on the tip of Allan’s tongue to say something about faith with out works, but he wisely held him self in. He knew Lloyd and his as sociates could finance the whole of the work that remained to be done, if they were willing to risk their pri vate fortunes; but he could npt sug gest this plan; the offer must come voluntarily from their side. The conference with Lloyd was held on a November evening. 'Two days later Allan went quietly to Europe, despair in his heart. His goings and comings were unnoted save for an occasional line or two in a metropolitan paper New names and new enterprises were before the world. MacKendree Allan was as dead as his tunnel. In the spring he returned to Tunnel City, but no one paid any attention to the fact. This Is a little less than the truth. One person noted the fact with much in terest. She wap Ethel Llo,yd. Her father hac spoken to/Allan of his daughter’s admiration for him. This strange, beautiful and powerful- minded young woman did not think of her feeling for Allan as admira tion. It w^s characteristic that she was honest with herself, though hon est with others, sometimes, only when it suited her convenience. She knew that she loved him. She also knew, with the sublime egoism of the truly great, that the man she loved could hot have in him the elements of fail ure. She was certain that Allan would build the tunnel as she was of the tides and the sunrise. If he need ed her help, that was only a part of the plan. The big thing was that some* ow, some way, he would win. Iher s private detective agency to find out positively if Allan was in Tun nel City and what he was doing t^ere. The report wap that Allan was working every day in the tunnel. He lived in absolute seclusion and did not receive a single visitor of any sort or for any purpose. He could not be reached oqly through O'Mal ley, and as O’Malley had orders that he was not to be reached at all, this was not much nelp. A love of adven ture stirred in her. Allan had made up his mind not to see her. Very well —she would see him in spite of him self. From the detectives she learned the hour when Allan was always to be found in the administration build ing—>that Is to say, he was there, but not to be found. She motored down to Tunnel City and timed her visit carefully, so as to reach the admin istration building when Allan would certainly be in. Dressed in a rpagniflcent motoring costume, she presented herself before the impassive O’Malley. She had seen him at the time of Allan’s trial and knew him by reputation, but he had never been presented. He, of course, knew her by sight, and when sha came into his office he rose and bowed with the greatest courtesy. "You are Mr. O’Malley?” she smiled sweetly upon him. “I am Ethel Lloyd. I feel that I kno\^ you—have known you for a long t time.” And she held out her band. O’Malley, who, though an Irishman, did not pride himself on his ease with women, mumbled some reply to the compliment and asked with some un easiness: “Is there anything I can do for you. Miss Lloyd?” "Indeed, you can!” she assured him, with a bubbling laugh. "I am very anxious to see Mr. Allan ” A Fib. T HERE was much of the primi tive in Ethel Lloyd. She did not rise to the heights of all - sacrificing love in her love for Allan. She loved him and she wanted him; 1 she played accordingly. At the same time she knew that he did not love her. She f.elt that he cared more for her than any living woman, but she knew it was not love. No Reply. She waited p few weeks longer for him to call, but he gave no sign that he was even alive. Then she wrote him a cordial note, saying that she knew he had returned, hoped that he would have called on them by this time and asked him io come to see them. There was no reply. She was at first shocked, then angry and then amused. Then she ordered her fs- O’Malley looked more uncomfort able than ever. 'T am very sorry, Miss Lloyd, but Mr. Allan Is not here Just now,” he said. The young woman expressed a sur prise that was not all feigned. “I think you must be mistaken, Mr. O’Malley; I had definite assurance that Mr. Allgp woulpl be here at this hour." It was very cleverly worded. It im plied that she had an appointment with Allan, but did not say so in as many words. For an instant she believed that O'Malley would fall into the trap, but he did not. “I’m very sorry',” he said again, “but there must be some mistake about it. Mr. Allan Isn’t here.” He did not know that the visitor knew he was lying, but the expres sion of her great eyes was enough to add to his embarrassment without that knowledge. “But I am certain,” she said slowly and with sudden coldness, “I am cer tain that he must be here.” "I can not compel you to believe me. Miss Lloyd,” he said, with some coldness on his side. “But I can not produce Mr. Allan when he is not here.” "Where Is he?" she demanded sud denly. To Be Continued To-morrow. CHINESE DREAMS IPzMri complete short story “V ITAIPL, the poet, has fallen a victim to the moon!” When the mandarin had pronounced these strange words, he rested hi§ chin in his hand. A victim of the moon? In India, I have heard, moonstrokes are con sidered worse than sunstrokes, and that when you walk in the garden in the evening you always carry a moonshade. Was this what the man darin meant? I was waiting to hear. But my august friend, the man darin, began to sway back and forth rhythmically while he sang these verses: “The moon ascends to the heart of the nocturnal sky and rests there filled with love. “Across the shining sea glides the soft ev’ening breeze and kisses the delighted waves. “Oh, what beautiful harmonies arise from the meeting of elements created to unite! “But the things created to unite so very seldom do unite.” How? Has not the music of poetry been forgotten in China? Has not the lyre of the Chinese Orpheus been broken? Alas! it is only too true. Even in China nobody dreams any more. The bacchantes of progress rush by and disturb the careless dreamer who looks behind 1 ’him in the moonlight. “There is a way of reaching even the moon,” he murmured. “Who ever reached there?” The Legend. A wizard, or rather a saint, had long been dwelling at court. One beautiful summer night, when the full moon was bathing the landscape In its silvery light, the Emperor, who was walking with the saintly man, admired the bewitching light which fell on the leaves glittering with the diamonds of the dew and on the rush ing river and the foaming cascades. Then he looked up at the twinkling stars and sighed because they were so far away, so beautiful and still so unattainable. His companion, who guessed his thoughts, said to him. "Do you want to rise with me to the moon?” The Emperor looked at him for a moment in surprise and then said: "I understand what you want to say. Tour intellect, which is superior to my common mind, is able to fly ahead of me on the paths of thought, but to lengthen the fetters is not the same as to set the prisoner free, and we shall not get very far.” “Oh, Lord, you do not understand me at all,” the wizard exclaimed; 'I mean that we are to fly up to the moon fully conscious of everything that we meet and see” "I will not permit even a saint to mock me,” said the Son of Heaven. But the saint slowly opened his fan. threw it up into the air and sajo "Look that way.” The fan remained suspended in tne air and the creases of the paper formed a stairway wljich reached all the way up to the m.ooh. The Em peror threw up his hands in amaze ment. Smoothest, ^ 10 & Softest V & 7 alcum Powder\DQX Fdade-.d* I The Ascent. "Have you the courage to accom pany me now? A ruler must be de void of fear, and, besides, the stairs are broad and comfortable. ’ The saint already ' limbed over the railings of the pavilion; he held out his hand to the Son of Heayen, who followed him, and almost with out anv effort they began to ascend. Boon they had passed the palace walls, the three glittering streams, the eight branches of tf)e river which surrounded the walls of the city. Shortly afterward the city disap peared In the distance. More and more indistinct mountains, plains and cities passed by the wanderers, who kept on ascending, bathed in light. "What part of the country Is under neath us now?” asked the Emperor, looking down. “We are passing the frontier of Tientschi,” said the saint; “the moun tains of the west are disappearing, and now we are above another prov ince.” ”1 know very well that I am dream ing,” said the Emperor, "and still it seems to me that I am awake. What I see is only a dream picture, but to morrow you will try to persuade me it was real and that I did not dream at all. But how will you prove It to me?” “Have you anything with you, O Lord, the like of which nobody else possesses? 1 * ”ln mv belt I have two gold coins; they were coined at the mint this morning, and there are no others like them in the world.” The Coins. S. TALC i 'N. Mi i; * v v * M Borated. Delightfully Perfumed. White or Flesh Tint. Guaranteed pure by TALCUM PUFF CO., Miners and Manafartmrm Bush Terminal Bldg., Brooklyn, N. Y. “Now I know exactly above which part of your empire we are. We will throw the two gold coins down the stairs, and we will surely find them again.” The next morning when the Em peror awoke in his palace “What! Does the story end thus? What about his arrival In the moon and the wonderful things he saw?” “Alas, I did not accompany them on the voyage,” said the mandarin. "All I can tell is that the gold coins were found more than 100 Chinese miles from the city, but I am told that in the moon all the dreams of the poets have been realized and that their beauty surpasses all understand ing.” "But can not you tell at least how Litaipe was destroyed by the moon?” “Oh, everybody knows that. One evening t’ * poet ate his evening meal on the i .*r. The air was unusually clear and the water so transparent that you could not see it at all. Far down in its depths the moon was glistening just as the sky, and there were as many stars below as above. Litaipe leaned over the edge of the boat and stared longingly down into the depth. ‘In the unknown,’ he said, ‘there is neither height nor depth. The moon is calling me, and tells me that when I re^-ch it, it does not mat ter whether I go up or down.’ At this moment a wonderful harmony filled the air, a breeze floated across the river and two young gods carry ing silken banners stood before the poet. They had been sent from the ruler of the Heaven to conduct him to his place in the heavenly regions. A dolphin came swimming up to the boat, and Litaipe mounted its back and, preceded by the diving youths, he slowly vanished in the deep.” “Perhaps your great poet was sim ply intoxicated and fell into the river.” The august mandarin shook his head as if he did not hear, and a fur row of sorrow came upon his fore head. The airy foam of the cham pagne had vanished, and with It the images of a beautiful past. A cloud passed across the moon. Will it open? Will the fan of the wizard once more form a broad stair way to the luminous disc? The moon which science now’ brings within a few meters distance is no longer the moon of the poets, the dreams of imagination fly before the dissecting knife of the scientist. And with Li taipe we must in the depths of the river look for all the beautiful images which found their tomb there with the youth of the world. Do You Know- A shark’s egg is one of the oddest- looking things imaginable. It is un- £ rovided with shell, but the contents re protected by a thick, leathery covering, almost as elastic as India rubber. The average size is two inces by two and three-quarter inches, and it is almost jet black. The average height of the heavy rain cloud is 1,680 yards; of the deli cate, fleecy cloud, 9,760 yards. Only 73 in 1,000 letters delivered in the United Kingdom come from abroad. Clippings from masculine heads of hair are used for making strainers through which syrups are clarified. Wine is sometimes made from potatoes. . panacea for what ever alls me— and Jouttermllk never falls me! I never let my self get very fat— but when I find myself plus about eight or ten un desirable pounds I proceed to go on the buttermilk treatment. Two quarts a day suf flee to feed me and supply me with drinkables, and never a drop or a crumb of any other re freshment do I permit myself. For two weeks I live on my aliowsnee of two quarts of but termilk per day. I have no stated time for drinking It—Just when ever I am thirsty I Indulge In a glass—also when ever 1 sm hun gry. After the first day or two It Is not hard to d«uy yourself food, and at the end of two weeks I am eight pounds thinner and much clearer as to com plexion than when I started on the ‘cure.’ ” By LILIAN LAUFERTY. W HEN Dorothy Brenner smiles and golden hair glints to an ac companiment of dimples ffid white t«eth and bubbling Joy you do%u>t analyze Beauty—you just enjoy It. But merry-hearted Dorothy Brenner can an- j alyze and tabulate for you Just how to be cheerful and keep cheerful, and to keep w’atchfui eye on skin and figure— on‘.digestion and disposition alike. Miss Brenner and Harry Carroll are playing "The Little Song Shop” on the Klein circuit under the management of Max Hart, and of course we all like to know Just how our favorite enter tainers keep their figures and maintain a high average of complexion and of cheerfulness, come rain or come sun shine. "Buttermilk,” says Miss Bren ner, "and cry when you feel like it.” Worth investigating and particular izlng a bit when you come to lactic fer ment and lachrymal glands in such cheerful proximity! To particularize— said Miss Brenner: Her Very Pet. “Buttermilk Is my very pet pana cea for whatever alls me—gn<l butter milk never fails me! I never let myself get very fat—but when I find myself plus about eight or ten undesirable pounds I proceed to go on a buttermilk treatment. Two quarts a day suffice to feed me and supply me w!th dTlnka- bles, and never a drqp or a crumb of any other refreshment do I permit my self. For two weeks I live on my allowance of two quarts of buttermilk per day. I have no stated time for drlnkink It—Just whenever I am thirsty I Indulge In a glass—also whenever I am hungry After the first day or two it Is not hard to deny yourself food, and at the end of two weeks I am 8 pounds thinner and much clearer as to Miss Dorothy Brenner. zles and curdles and ravels at the ends —if any ,one article In the world can do all three things! Anyway, even a perfectly good disposition will go back on the owner now and then! And a girl generally feels called upon to keep her self above par; to smile however she feels—to smile so earnestly that ‘her nobI6 expression aches;’ to smile until she wonders if she can ever untangle her real feelings from the expression- garment she has put on her poor, ^tlred face. “Does that help her disposition and character? IT DOES NOT. It curdles all the milk-and-honey sweetness In her nature. I say—express your feelings; if : you are blue and don’t know why, or discouraged and do know why, go off j by yourself where you can’t annoy the | neighbors or worry your mother over 1 what alls you, and Just cry It out. Cry \ It out once for all, and then forget It. Cry it out and have It over with. Don’t | be sorry for yourself—notice what a fin® old world It Is—how it lets you go off and have a little April shower ocular demonstration, and then how glad every thing looks when you look at It through a smile. Allow yourself two or three good cries a year If you need them— and never exceed your allowance, or for get that the sun has to shine a little harder always after a shower. So after you have had your cry out all by your self, remember that you owe yourself and the world a lot of smiles to make up for those weak weeps!” There Is a lot of philosophy In that If you will think It over, and Just ex actly follow directions—but following directions means thgt you weep In prl vate and turn to the world and its peo pie a smiling face. Can you do it? A Talk to the Engaged Girl By BEATRICE FAIRFAX. complexion than when I started on the *cure.‘ When I go off the buttermilk diet, I do not plunge Into heavy eat- j Ing and overtax my digestion, but then | I don’t believe In very hearty eating, j anyway. For breakfast, fruit, coffee and I a roll; for lunch, a glass of buttermilk j and a sandwich, and dinner, a simple ■ repast of the supepr variety. That is a good all-the-whtle custom for the eat ing department. About Drying. “My next use of buttermilk Is exter nal application I use It on my face and throat. First, I wash very thoroughly with hot water and pure castile soap. Next comes a careful drying process and then I take a bit of cotton or soft cloth and put butterrpilk over my face and throat; as soon as one aplicatlon has dried I go over the surface again. Teh or fifteen minutes are allowed to pass and then I give my face a liberal wash ing and splashing in cold water. At the end of thgt time I feel as well as I look and look as well as I feel—and bpth effects are very satisfactory-. But termilk Is cheap, easy to get at ar.y neighboring milk depot, and as It Is a foe to fat and to digestive troubles and a friend to skin and complexion, work ing from the inside and the outside for the mutual benefit of both—I feel safe in saying: ‘No family should be with out it.’ "And now about crying: I don’t care how wonderful a disposition a girl Is heir to, there are times when it fraz- W HAT shall a girl say when she receives an engagement ring? Well, now, what do you thinly of a question like that? Who gave you the ring, little sis ter, and what did you think when he gave it to you? Do you love him, were you so happy you could scarcely breathe? Well, then, why didn't you say so, and be done with it? What sihall 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. 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 balance? Etiquette—what etiquette is there about being engaged? What do you think you'll do when you come to die—ask some one to tead 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 Mrs. Grundy is there to tell you? What! Shocking! Oh, yes, of course, babies are dreadfully shock ing, aren’t they, and no is life and so Is death and so is love and so are lots and lots of things, but they are real just the same. And so, why don’t you meet them like a real wom- man and not like some little, painted, jointed doll that has to wait till you pinch her even to say "Mama” or “Papa” in her squeaky liftle artificial voice. What must you say when he gives you the ring, dear heart, what must you say when he’s sick and wants you to hold his hard and make him something good to eat and pull down the shade and make I he room comfy Funeral Designs and Flowers FOR ALL OCCASIONS. Atlanta Floral Company «SS EAST FAIR STREET. and read him something to send hijn to sleep? What must you say when you and he stay up all night watching for tin dawn to tell you whether nhe’s going to live or not?—the little girl you both love vo dearly. What must you do when somebody tries to take him away from you ami your heart is breaking and you don’t really know whether he cares or not? What are you, little sifter, any how; a girl—a real live girl—or Jus. a make-believe, cut out of some fa a ion paper with bits of feet thn couldn't walk an honest step to navi anybody's life and tiny hands tha couldn’t put a biscuit Into shape it the fate of a nation depended on it What must you say?—why, 9a what you think, say what you feel say what you mean—and stop think ing about it, that’s all. Consolation. "Doctor,” said tihe lady patient, »uff*r a great deal with my eyes ’’ "Everybody does, madam,” replie the fussy old M.D., "but you woui probably suffer a gruat deal mor without ’em.” V- if V”*- ** Palmer's Skin Whitener Bleaches Dark 8kln Removea Freckle* Tans. Sallowness and Skin Eruptions. Postpaid2 5 Q^Anywhtre All Jacobs’ Stores And Druggists Generally. At the Mercy of the Air By CONSTANCE BURLEIGH. t< r jp HERE you are, Sis, that Is Ronald Clavering, the tall chap with the bronzed face talking to aunt.” Cecelia Travers looked across the room, and at that moment the deep gray eyes belonging to the bronzed face met hers Cecil, as she was familiarly called, blushed and turned away, and her usually well-regulated heart beat violently. "Isn’t he a fine looking chap?” pur sued Jack Travers. "And he is just as splendid as he looks, the bravest and most daring aviator In England. And he won the ” "I know- everything he has done,” In terrupted his sister eagerly. "He is Just grand, and I’ve always longed to see him.” This was Cecil’s twenty-first birth day, and Mrs. Denton, Cecil's aunt, was giving a dinner party In her honor. She now came over to them. “Jack, will you take Miss Marsh In to dinner? Cecil, dear, I have paired you off with Mr. Clavering. I know you are crazy about aviation, though I donft suppose you will get him to say much about his own exploits. He is so terribly modest!” Cecil looked up rather resentfully at her companion. She told herself she hated him, and felt angry that his voice and a glance from his eyes bad power to set her heart beating furiously and make her blush like a flapper. And Ronald Clavering, the woman hater, found himself w-atchlng her sweet face with more than ordinary interest. Find ing how enthusiastic she was about the navigation of the air, he patiently an swered her many questions, and ex plained all he could to her.. A few days later Cecil sat sketching, and, as she worked, one face would come between her and her drawing board—a bronzed face, with deep, gray eyes. An angry little frown puckered her fore head.. “I hate him—I do!” she said to her self. “What Is It, Jack?” At last she pushed her work Impa tiently away, and sat staring dreamily before her. A sudden exclamation from Jack, who was reading the paper, made her look up.. “What is it. Jack!*’ "You remember Mr. Clavering who took you in to dinner on your birth day r* Cecil’s cheeks burned at the mention of the man who had been filling her thoughts. "Yes, I remember him. Well, what about him?” "Oh, it only says here that he is going to take passengers for flights at $50 each from Seaham aerodrome this aft ernoon, and each day this week, the money to go to a fund for the widows and children of the heroes of that ter rible mine disaster.” Cecil glanced up, her heart heating rapidly "Then I’m going up with him,” she said firmly. The afternoon proved dull and rather rough, and not many people seemed anxious for aerial honors, though very large crowds had assembled when Jack and Cecil appeared. On account of the contrarfness of the wind It w-as late before they made a start. Cecil’s heart throbbed with a wild excitement as she took her place In the machine with seeming calmness. There was a deafening noise from the engine, and then the monoplane rose with the grace ond swiftness of a bird. At first Cecil felt as though she must scream for It seemed as If the breath was being forced out of her *>ody and phe must surely die. But that feeling soon passed off and a sense of glorious exhilaration took its place as they rose higher and higher, till the cheering waving crowds became mere specks below them. Soon they had risen sufficiently high, the wind dropped and they went out over the water. "AH rightr’ shouted Clavering. And Cecil called back: "Yes, it’s fine.” On they went, skimming through the air. high above the tossing waters, then suddenly,they seemed to get caught In a wind eddy, and the plane swung right around. ••Keep calm—hold tight!” roared ‘havering; and Cecil saw that the bronzed face was set and anxious. For some time they fought a grim battle with the blustering wind; then came 'a short, sharp exclamation from Ronald, a Jarring of the machinery, and the aeroplane rocked violently. Something was evidently very wrong, but a calm, cool courage took pos- <pssion of Cecil. was the time to ;how that women have grit as well as men! "The steering gear’s gone wrong!” -houted Clavering. wondering how uuch he should ten his passenger. "I thought something was up.” re lied Cecil calmly. "la it seriousT* drifting. The aviator looked at her admiringly. A sudden downward swerve stopped iny further conversation, and for a .mg time Clayering was busily en gaged doing his best to control the eroplane, which tossed about at the ; .ercy of the wind. Cecil was getting cold and cramped. She knew they must have been in the air a long time, for darkness was threatening to set In; yet, strangely enough, she felt no fear, though she w-as sure they were drifting to death, but she did not care what happened so long as that stern, brave figure was with her. Ah, how little she had thought her ad venture would turn out like this! She had Intended to get home quickly, un observed, ddrectly she found herself back in the aerodrome grounds; and now "We are nearing the land!” Claver ing’s voice broke In on her reverie. ’‘There Is a chance after all M The rest of his sentence was carried away by a violent gust of wind which tossed them about; then Cecil saw the long, low line of the shore. The plane made a swift, vicious swoop. They were falling! "Look out!” she heard Ronald’s short, sharp words. Then came a terrific crash. She struggled hard not to loee consciousness a* she saw Clavering standing over her and heard his voice: "Saved by a miracle! I came down as gently as I could- Are you hurt? - he asked anxiously, as she did not speak, and he helped her gently to her feet. “You’re a brick, Miss Travers! If you had not kept up your courage so splendidly I might have lost my own nerve.” Cecil blushed deeply, as she recovered consciousness, to find herself In Claver ing’s arms. "Ah, that’s better! What a fright you have given me!" he exclaimed. She tried to sit up, but he still held her. “Take It easy—you’d best keep quiet a bit. The shock has been too rauoh for you. And I will get you boms di rectly you are able ” His clasp of her tightened, and there was no mistaking the emotion In his voice. Cecil looked up Into the gray eyes, no longer stern, but with an ex pression of wonderful tenderness In their depths, and suddenly, she scarcely knew why, she burst Into a passion of tears. And Clavering felt that he loved her for her weakness, even as he had admired her for her courage. "Dear little girl, what 1* the matter?” he whispered gently. "I—l had no right to do tt,” she sobbed. "What must you think of me?” But It. was nearly a fortnight later when he told her what he really thought. And now the famous aviator’s charming wife accompanies him on most of his wonderful flights, but he often teases her about the first one. MRS. RIVERS DISCLOSES SECRET Matter Didn’t Prove Ex periment After All, and She Now Makes It Public. Mineral Springs, Ark.—In a letter from this place, Mrs. J. M. Rivera says: "If It had not been for Cardul. the woman's tonic, no doubt, I would have been in my grave. "I was sick all of the time for 1# years, and took medicines constantly. I suffered terribly. At last, I decided I would Just try Cardul on my own hook, and kept U a secret. It wag certainly a God-send to me. Binoe taking It, I have no pain whatever, feeling good, and can wrestle with my 16-year-old son. In fact, I don’t feel over 16 myself. Am as happy as a lark. When I begun taking Cardul 1 only weighed 101 lbs. Now I weigh 117 1-2 lbs., and am going to continue taking Cardul until I weigh 135. "I just can’t say enough for Cardul, and I belive if all women who suf fer from womanly troubles would take it, there would be more happy homes” Using Cardul Is no experiment- It has stood the most severe of all tests —the test of time. Cardul has been in use for over half a century, and in this time has benefited more than a million women- It is composed of purely vegetable ingredients, which have been found to build up the vi tality, tone up the nerves, and strengthen the womanly constitution. That It haul helped others is the best of proof that it will help yon. Try Cardul. N. B.—Write to: .Chattanooga “ Pi7 lcine Co., Ladies’ Advisory Dept., Chat* tanooga. Tenn., for Special Instructions on your case and 64-pace book, “Homs Treatment for Women, sent In plain wrapper.—adv. fO STOP HAIR LOSS AND RID f OUR SCALP OF Do you have dandruff? Does your hair all out? Is It getting thinner ar.<i the artlng more pronounced every day? If o, we advise you to begin right away »r before It is too late. We are not trying to scare you We e simply telling you the truth. If you ould ward off Impending baldnesB you 1st check that hair loss and rid your tip of dandruff. Don’t resort to the use of an untried, f-brand hair preparation w r hen genuine erpicide costs no more. You are liable disappointment if you experiment, art right and start now with the x right .medy and stick to it—Newbro's Her- .cide. Use Herpicide daily for a whila, then times a week will be sufficient. atch the chan he condition nge which takes or your hair lace in scalp. The results attending the Intelligent - • j1< of Newbro’s Herpicide are impressive. The increased beauty of the hair, before dead, dull and brittle, Is such that Her picide is not only warranted, but its em ployment demanded. To experience that feeling of coolness and cleanliness and to allay itching scalp Newbro’s Herpiddft {9 most highly recommended. Any dealer will sell you Newbraf* Herpicide in 50c and $1 9izes and guar antee it. If it doesn't do as promised. If you are not satisfied with the first bot tle, he returns your money But you’ll be satisfied. The first application will convince you that Newbro s Herpicide is the very thing for the hair. It’s odor is delightful. Applications may be obtained at the better barber shops and hair drawing parlors. Jacobs’ Pharmacy, Special Agei^a.