Atlanta Georgian. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1912-1939, September 11, 1913, Image 9
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Their Married Life
By MABEL HERBERT URNER
I T was a small millinery shop In the
Rue Daunou. There were only three
hate In the window. In Paris the
rawer the hats displayed in the window
the higher the prices In the shop.
Helen had paused to look at one of
the three hats. It was small, extreme
ly simple, and the same shade of blue
as her traveling suit. Another mo
ment’s hesitation, and she entered the
awning shaded door.
Inside there was Just one hat on a
ia.ll slender brass stem. Except for this
solitary evidence of millinery the place
might have been an undertaking estab
lishment, so severely plain and austere
were its dark green velvet hangings and
polished brass rods.
Helen was beginning to fear that the
simple hat In (he window might not be
so Inexpensive after all. From behind
a velvet screen, which shielded many
^helves of bandboxes, swept an Impres
sive French woman In a clinging, trail
ing black satin gown.
She gave Helen Just one swift g^ince
and then asked In English:
“Good afternoon, madatne. Is there
anything I can show you?”
"I should like to see the small blue
hat in the window,” Answered Haien,
somewhat disconcerted at so instantly
being recognized as an American, but re
lieved at not having to depend on the
sign language and her half dosen words
of French.
“With pleasure, madam,” sweeping
over to the window, the trailing point
of her skirt wriggling snake-like over
the green velvet carpet.
"It’s a smart little model. Is it not?”
as she took it out and held it up for
Helen’s inspection. Won’t you try it
Ofl?”
Drawing out her hatpins, Helen sat
down before the long mirror.
The French woman stood back of
hbr with the hat carefully poised.
Watching the effect In the mirror, with
the air of performing some difficult and
delicate operation, she slowly lowered
the hat on Helen’s head.
“Volla, madame!” lapsing into French
with an expressive gesture.
Helen liked the hat. It suited her, and
It fitted her head without the need of |
an annoying bando.
“The side view is perfect,’’ purred the
French woman, giving her a hand mir
ror.
A Big Price.
The hat was covered with lus
trous blue moire silk, and the only
trimming was a single uncurled
feather beneath the rim at the
side. When Helen first glanced at it In
the window she had thought seventy-five
francs—fifteen dollars. When she en
tered, that estimate rose to twenty
dollars. Now she feared it might be
nearer twenty-five
•'And the price?" She tried to ask it
carelessly.
"Pardon, madam. 1 will just see,
glancing at the little ticket Inside the
hat. "Four hundred francs, madam.
That is about eighty dollars in your
money, is it not?"
After the first second of blank amaze
ment Helen was furiously indignant.
Did this woman think all Americans
were either fools or millionaires? With
out comment she took off her hat and
reached for her own.
Her silence was far more disconcert
ing to this supercilious French woman
than would have beer, any criticism of
the price.
"I can show you some other models
some very smart models that are not
qitite so expensive,” hurriedly, as Helen
started to leave the shop.
"No, thank you,” coldly. "I don’t
care to see anything else.”
Outside the Indignant color still
flamed in Helen's cheeks. Eighty dol
lars for a hat for which even the most
expehsive New York shops would not
ask over thirty! It was almost an in
sult to her Intelligence.
Suddenly she stopped. For a moment
she stood transfixed as she gazed across
the street at a familiar figure with a
familiar swinging stride. It was War
ren 1
Hced'ess of cabs and motors, she
started to rush across the street. He
had now paused on the corner as though
to take a bus. Fearlessly Helen darted
through the maze of traffic, the drivers
shouting at her.
She Tells Warlen.
Warren had raised his cane at an
approaching bus and was just about to
jump on when she rushed up and caught
his arm with a panting:
“Oh, Warren, Warren!”
"Hello! Where'd you come from?”
unemotionally.
“Oh, I was so afraid I wouldn’t catch
you. Oh, dear, Isn't it wonderful to
meet this way on the street? It’s the
first time we ever have,” Incoherently.
"Well, that's no reason for your get
ting run over,” as A cab wheel brushed
her dress, and he drew her back
to the sidewalk. ’’What do you
want? It’s almoBt 5 now. I've got
Horse Versus Horseman
Drink-
Maxwell
House
Blend
"The Quality Cuff—’'
More sold and more
enjoyed than any
other high grade cof
fee in the South.
5mW <
n« mt ffowr*
Cheek-Weal Coffee Ca.,
HMfcrille. *•«•!©•.
to send a cable and then I’m through.
Want to go with me?’’
“Oh, yes, yes.” eagerly.
“Where’ve you been., anyway?”
When Helen caught her breath she
told him about the millinery shop she
had Just com© from, about the hat and
the exorbitant price.
“And it wasn’t worth a cent more
than $20,’’ Bhe finished, resentfully,
“though I wanted It so much I "dght
have paid $25.’’
“Did you offer her that?*
“Why, no, not when she asked $80!
What would have been the use?”
“You’re easy. There’s a mighty big
difference between what they ask and
what they’ll take over here. If you want
the hat go back and tell her that you’ll
give her $25. I’ll wager you’ll get it.”
“Why, dear, that's absurd. She might
come down $10 or $15, but she'll never
$25 when she asks $80.”
"I’d be afraid to try her if I didn't
want the hat.”
Warren Is Obdurate.
"Couldn’t you come with me?” ex
citedly. “It’s very near here.”
“All right; I’m game. We’ll call her
bluff.”
But as Warren walked hack with her
toward the shop Helen’s elation was
mingled with misgivings. She felt sure
the woman would not consider $25, an/tl
she did not want Warren to pay more.
“One of those ‘smart’ little shops
where they soak Americans, eh?" com
mented Warren, as they approached the
window to which the three hats and
the green velvet curtain gave an air of
exclusiveness.
The Frenchwoman could hardly re
strain a smile of satisfaction whep s»he
saw Helen re-enter, for she felt sure of
the saJe now.
“I believe my wife was loklng at a
hat here a few minutes ago.’’
“Yes, sib.” beamingly, as she took the
hat from the window. "It was excep
tionally becoming to madame—wouldn’t •
you like to sec It on her?”
“That’s not necessary My wife likes
the hat. Now, I’ll tell you what I’ll do:
I’ll give you one hundred and twenty-
five francs—$25—not a cent more.”
The beaming smile froze on the wom
an’s face.
“Why, sir, you’re—madame must have
misunderstood me. I told her the hat
was $80.”
“Yes, and I’m offering you $26, which
is about *5 more than It’s worth. But
that’s all right,” generously, “since my
wife wants the hat.”
The woman almost spluttered in
her vehemence. She excitedly ex
plained that the feather alone cost
her more than that. But Warren was
unmoved. He wrote the hotel address
on his card and gave it to her with a
brief:
“There’s my address. We’ll be at the
hotel at 6 o’clock. If you want to have
the hat there at that time C. O. D., all
right.’’
"But that’s Impossible, sir! -To ac- ■
commodate madame, I might take off
the feather and let her have it for $50-
that’s the very beet I can do.’
"No. we’re buying it as it is. If you j
decide before 6 o'clock that you’d rather
have the $25 than that hat, send it |
around and you’ll get the money. Good
afternoon.”
“Oh, you know she’ll never send it,"
exc aimed Helen, when they reached the
street. “Why, she was furious—she
was insulted at the offer."
“Don’t be too sure about that. These
French shop people aren’t so easily In
sulted by offers as you think.”
“But. dear, you know' she won’t come
down THAT much!"
“She may and she may not. But
she's mulling over that offer, all right.
Show these people the money and give
’em a ladder—they’ll usually come 1
across. Now' where are we? I’ve got !
to send that cable.”
It was five minutes of six when they
reached the hotel. Helen glanced ea- ;
gerly around the lobby for a messenger j
with a handbox.
“Not six yet,” suggested Warren,
noting her g ance as he turned from the
desk with the key and their mail.
They had just entered their rooms
Helen had not even taken off her hat
when there was a loud knock at the
door.
It was a boy with a large, white
bandbox and a C. O. D. bill for 125 |
francs—$26.
The next moment Helen was taking
the hat from its tissue wrappings
“Is it all right?” Warren demanded,
drawing out his wallet.
"Oh, yes—yes. It’s PERFECT!” try
ing it on before the mirror.
“Well, she wasn’t so very much In
sulted,” grinned Warren as the door
closed after the messenger.
“It fits my head so well,” exclaimed
Helen, irrelevantly. "And it's just right
to wear a veil with. I didn’t DREAM
she'd send it! ’
“She found out we weren’t so easy
and thought she might as well nail that
$26. That’s the way to handle these
v reneh tradespeople. They think all
\merlcans have more money tnan
brains. It’s Just as well to let ’em
know there are some they can’t bluff."
This picture illustrates an in
genious device used in the
❖
training of horses and men at
the famous cavalry school at.
Saumur.
The horse is fixed between
padded posts and taught to
buck at its best.
The man learns not to be
thrown when his mount does
buck.
If he is thrown he must learn
to 'fall well."
The photograph shows a sol
dier hurled from the saddle,
but although presented with a
situation that would cause the
average man to ‘‘lose his
head" entirely, is apparently
perfectly cool and collected
and ready to land on the
ground in an upright position.
Some of the soldiers are said
to become so expert that when
they allow themselves to be
thrown they can safely turn a
somersault in the air before
alighting on their feet unhurt
and smiling.
(Tram tfci (Ktmm* * Bermhe*
f»#nr*n »*r«»oe Copyrtahteri. l»l*. -*
rn«h#r Verier Berlin. FnflUh fjMisUtfcm
•on: pi 1st'«•*» l»T
*1 A
na ui
Advice to the Lovelorn
By BEATRICE FAIRFAX.
Up-to-Date Jokes
LEARN SELF-CONTROL.
Dear Miss Fairfax:
Four months ago 1 accidentally
became acquaihteil with a young
man, one or two years my senior,
with whom I immediately fell in
love. On another occasion I
again met him accidentally on the
street and we took a walk, on
which occasion he was very at
tentive to me. Since then he has
assumed a very cold attitude to
ward me. His religion is differ
ent from mine. Do you think that
is the reason? Will you kindly
advise me as to what course to
pursue, as I am xna^ly in love
with him? F. O.
Your acquaintance with him is lim
ited to two walks on the streets, and
you really know nothing of him. To
give your love so desperately on such
slight pretext indicates dangerous
lack of self-control.
I am quite sure the question of re
ligion does not intrude. He simply
does not love you. He does not know
you well enough. I want you to love
and be loved, but I insist for your
own sake that you exercise some re
straint.
YOU CERTAINLY WERE.
Dear’Miss Fairfax:
I have known a young man for
the past five years and we were
to he engaged in a few months.
We very seldom had any quar
rels, but some time ago he made
an appointment to call to see me
which he did not keep.
He wanted to write me, and
through a.friend I sent word that
I did not want any explanation.
Here it is almost five weeks and
I have not heard from him yet. Do
you think that I was hasty?
D. D. D.
You showed a most unreasonable
temper, and he did right in resent
ing It. Natilrally, he did not call
after such a message.
Write and tell him you are sorry.
A man who has been a faithful lover
five years is too rare to he lost
through a whim.
MARRY HER FIRST.
Dear Miss Fairfax:
I am in business with my lather,
who is wealthy. I am also in
love with a girl of whom my par
ents disapprove because of the
poverty of her family. They have
no other objections. My father
says he will disinherit me if 1
marry her. I have $500 of my
own and want to go somewhere
else and start in business for my
self, for I will not give up the girl.
She wants to go with me and help
make our fortune. Shall we mar
ry now and go together, or shall I
leave her till my fortune is made?
QUANDARY.
First get some definite notion of
where you Intend to go and what you
Intend to do when you get there. Youi
present business prominence will as
sist you in this. Then marry the girl
and take her with you, making up
your mind when you do it that love
will recompense you for all the priva
tions you are facing. I am sure you
will find the extreme West a good
place for a beginning, hut you will
have very little of that $500 left when
you get there.
Irate Father—Here, I’ve paid $ou
no telling how much money to teach
my daughter music, and she can’t
play any better than she did before.
Whose fault is It?
Professor Von Note—Ze fault of ze
instrument. I haf von Instrument in
my shop vich she learn to blay soon.
“Huh! Is It like this?”
“It looks like zis piano, but it goes
mit a handle.”
Grafton—Aw, what’s the matter,
dear hoy? Spwained your w’ist?
“Naw; rheumatism. Left one of me
rings off tile other day, ye know, and
caught cold in me flngaw.”
One day a gentleman asked a blue
jacket why the Government dealt out
trousers to them about two feet wider
than they ought to be.
"For the same reason,” said Jack,
“that your hatter sells you a stove
pipe hat about a foot higher than it
has need to be.”
A stock broker, whose mind was
always full of business, was asked
a few days ago how old his father
was.
“Well,” said he, abstractedly, "he’s
quoted at 80. but there is every pros
pect that he will reach par and pos
sibly be at a premium.”
“How Is your friend doing out
West?"
“Oh. he’s carrying everything be
fore him.”
“What business is he In?”
“He’s a waiter in a restaurant.”
(Copyri#kte4, ISIS, by International New# S«rr1f»A
TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT.
O’Malley met her eyes without a
quiver.
“In the tunnel,” he replied.
“Good evening,” she said coldly;
and swept out.
She Is Angry.
When Miss Lloyd returned to her
New York home that night she was
hurt and angry. She was the type
in which anger hardens resolution.
She knew that Allan needed her—
needed her help and counsel and in
fluence -and she was determined to
make him acknowledge It in word or
deed. She felt that it was a game
that he was playing. He w’as stub
bornly avoiding her after her father
had declined to rise to his suggestion
as to the private financing of the
tunnel.
For n day or two she took counsel
with herself and tried to devise ways
and means of meeting Allan without
running the risk of further humilia
tion. She was above feeling humilia
tion In the fact that she was seeking
him and that he was avoiding her.
She did not care that Allan was cer
tain to know she had sought him.
She merely did not want anyone else
to know.
Even letting the chief of her fa
ther’s detectives further into her
plans were repugnant. Also, she dis
missed any plan that included a sec
ond interview with O’Malley on the
subject. Consequently her father was
a neglected old man for several eve
nings, while she took mysterious fly
ing trips to Tunnel City in the after
noon, returning late in the evening.
She was doing her own scouting, and
she discovered that Allan made it a
rule never to leave or enter the Ad-
j ministration building by daylight if
he went to the tunnel, he went in the
black cold of the early morning and
returned after dark, when the scat
tered are lights threw blinding
shadows up the long glistening cor
don of tracks and the entrance to the
building was deserted.
She was anxious to see and talk
with him and she waited for several
weeks in the belief that he would
call on her father. Yet she was cer
tain that he would come eventually
He had written to Lloyd from Eu
rope in a time of black despair, and
in a guarded way suggested the pos
sibility of private financial backing.
Lloyd had taken his daughter into ills
confidence on the receipt of tills let
ter and he had followed her advice.
Then, one night, about ten days
after her encounter with O'Malley,
she placed herself In her limousine
about 50 feet from the building en
trance. It was a bitter cold night,
but the car was warm as a kitchen,
and the frost on the windows formed
a perfect blind.
She had not long to wait. She had
when she saw Allan’s figure coming
been there less than a half-hour
across the tracks. She recognized
him by his walk. But she bit her
lip with vexation, for another man
was with him. As they drew near
she recognized O’Malley, and her
heart beat quickly, for she was afraid
he might guess who was in the big
ear.
Face to Face.
If he did, he gave no sign other
than a curious glance as he walked
by in step with his chief. Allan did
not even glance toward the auto, and
Ethel could not catch a glimpse of
his face. She was bitterly dlsap-
“1
pointed, but decided that she would
try again next night.
This time she had better luck.
Allan came across the tracks alone,
and Just as he was turning into the
big archway, he heard hi* name soft
ly calling in a vaguely familiar voice.
He turned to see a woman partly
leaning out of the open door of a big
limousine. Slowly, almost reluctant
ly, he approached. He was thinking
of everything but women at that mo
ment. and was so abstracted that he
did not even guess who It might be.
"Mr. Allan, don’t you know your
old friends?” asked the woman, with
a smile. And then he recognized her.
"Miss Lloyd!” he exclaimed blankly.
She laughed, but the lough was a
little unsteady.
“Yes—Miss Lloyd!” she mimicked.
“Is that all you have to say when
ladles call on you?”
He continued to stare at her with
an almost vacant expression.
“Why, I don’t know,” he stammered
She gave him a keen look in the half-
light and then said abruptly:
“I wish you would get in the car
and take a little drive with me. It’s
very cold this way and—I must talk
to you a few minutes. It is very im
portant.”
“Oh—certainly!” he replied in the
same half-dazed manner. “I—why
how on earth did you get here?”
“I drove down,” was the laconic re
sponse. “Please hurry. Mr. Allan.
You’re keeping me waiting.”
With something that was almost a
start he seemed to receive the power
of. locomotion and stepped into tin
car She slammed the door and the
ear moved off. She had given her
chauffeur instructions
M very busy.” he began, apolo
getically and a little uneasily,
as the big car purred along the
smooth roadway.
“I know,” she cut In swiftly "I am.
too. That’s why I wanted you to
hurry. 1 have to get back home.
There was a silence of ft minute or
so. She was studying his face, Just
visible In the dim light of the car. She
had carefullj planned what she would
say and how she would say it. She
was now shocked to see the necessity
for completely altering her tactics on
the spur of the moment. She had at
tributed Allan’s conduct to pride. She
now' saw that it was something more
serious than that. Despair, like some
dred. numbing disease, had fastened
itself upon him. His face was thin
and hard, the features motionless and
without expression, save for a hint of
sullen defiance. His eyes had lost that
ever present dancing sparkle. They
were cold and lifeless.
Hhe had Intended to engage him in
light conversation and gradually lead
up to the real purpose of the inter
view. She now saw that this was
impossible.
“I wrote you a little note, Mr. Allan,”
she said, with a kindly smile that took
the edge off the implied reproach.
••Yes—yes, I know,” he stumbled.
“At the time I—I was ” His voice
trailed off into unintelligible sounds.
She put her hand impulsively on his
arm and for the first time he looked
directly at her.
“I understand—1 understand,” she
said quickly, her voice vibrant with
sympathy. “Don’t make any apology;
I understand. But I can’t tell you how
glad I am to see you again.”
She saw his stone-like features quiver
for an Instant, uncertainly, as if they
were unused to move.
He opened his Ups as If to reply in
kind, and then suddenly turned his
head and gazed out of the window.
This time she understood, too, but she
did not say so. She waited to see if
she had broken the Ice of his reserve,
and she thrilled when he asked in •
new tone—one of oulet interest:
“How Is your father?”
“He’s quite well, thank you. He wae
hoping to see you before this time!”
“Was he?’’ was the enigmatic com
ment.
The girl Ignored the faint suggestion
of irony.
“We both hoped you’d come and see
up. she said, “but I didn’t come al!
the way down here to invite you to
come to tea. T wanted to see you and
now I want to talk to .you as I would
want you to talk to me if you had the
pame—the same Interest in me that T
have in you.” '
Straight Talk.
He slowly turned his head and look
ed at her. She looked full Into his eyes
as she went on.
“The kind of life you are leading now
— this life down here-Ms the worst thing
in the world for you. You are break
ing yourself Internally. I understand
that you felt the need of solitude and
seclusion for A while. All of us do
But there comes a time when we cease
to rest and begin to mope—or worse.”
Allan stared at her. If she had beer
reading his heart for months he knew
she could not have more surely told
the truth. He knew that.he was not
doing himself or his Interests any good,
but he had reached the point where he
lacked the Initiative, the energy, to
change. It was a hopeful sign that he
resented somewhat the freedom the girl
had taken, but he did not Interrupt.
“You haven’t been near us—you
haven’t been near any of your old
friends,” she went on. “You have slm
ply buried yourself down here and you
might as well be dead as living the way
you are. Apparently, you’re so afraid
that some one will find you and remind
you of your duties that you have in
structed Mr. O’Malley to be rude to
every one who wants to see you.”
He half-interrupted her with a gen
ture of apology-, but she gave it no
heed.
“What do you expect to gain by thin,
Mr. Allan? 1 don’t think that I wrong
you when I give you credit for the am
bition to wish to finish the work to
which you have dedicated your “liTe.
How did >’ou think you can finish it
when you are hiding from every one who
might help you? And If you don’t finish
It, who wi'l? And if you don’t try to
finish It you won’t live! I know that. If
you don’t!
To Be Continued To-morrow.
KODAKS;;"-.
First Class Finishing and En
larging A complete stock time,
plates, papers, chemicals, etc.
Special Mall Order Department for
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6end for Catalogue and Price Llet.
M. X. HAWKtSCJ. Kodak Qooartmo-f
| 14 Whitehall St. ATLANTA. OA.
<§ # The Manicure Lady
By WILLIAM F. KIRK.
“I
SEE a story in the paper yester
day,” said the Manicure Lady,
“that told about one of the
brightest men in this country coming
home and finding his wife had went
away and left him. The story said that
he gave her everything in the world
except all of his time, because part of
that he was supposed to devote to his
business, and he said to the reporters
that he couldn't understand why she {
would run away with a strugg’lng poet
arid take a chance on starving. It all
goes to show, George, that men ain’t So
smart a« they think they are. Think
of one of the brightest men In the world
getting fooled that way by a. weak
But He Takes an Interest.
Commercial—If a man has an in
come of two millions a year, what is
his principal?
Cynic—A man with such an income
mually has no principle.
CHICHESTER S PILLS
TilK DIAMOND BRAND. A
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DIAMOND BRAND PILLS. for 8&
yean k no#n as Best,Safest, Always Reliable
SOLD BY DRUGGISTS EVERYWHFr
Every Woman
It interested and should
know about the wonderful
Wkirtog Stray
Douche
Atkroardrunrittfor
It. If ha cannot sup
ply the MARVEL,
accept no other, but
send stamp for book.
woman.
“I guess the woman is the one that is
getting fooled,” said the Head Barber.
“There isn’t anything very wise in leav
ing a good home and a good husband
to take a chance with a struggling poet.
I would just as soon take a chance on
a crippled horse In a race. Look al
that brother of yours that you are all
the time talking about. How could he
support anybody on his poetry?”
“He can’t support himself,” admitted
the Manicure Lady. “But that ain’t
what I am getting at. If this wonder
ful bright man was so bright, why didn’i
he see that his wife didn't care as much
for him as she did for somebody else?’
"Bright men don’t watch their wives
much," explained the Head Barber.
"The brighter a man Is, the less he
watches a woman. Look at this od
leaguer they call Socrates, the wise
Greek, that lots of great men have
called the wisest man that ever lived.
You would think that a gent with his
gray matter would pick out a wife to
make him happy, but instead of that he
draws a pest, who nags at him until
| he don’t know' whether he is afoot or
on a horse. 1 guess it is us common
ginks that gets the good wives.”
"I don’t see why that is. though," said
the Manicure Lady. "Anybody would
think a girl would want the best look
ing and the grandest man she could
land. 'It Is hard enough for a girl to
get the man of her choice. George, bo
you would think while she was trying
she wouldn’t be any piker and try for
a lemon.
"All the old gent said last night when
I was telling about this fine, bright fel
low that got stung was that It was to
be expected You see. George, every
thing has always broke so fine for fa
ther that he thinks everything is map
ped out, the sweet things of life for the
deserving, and the sour for them that
has sour coming to them. Some of
these days the Fate that he talks about
Is going to give him an awful kick in
the shins, and then he won’t feel quite
so displacent and calm about things.
You see, George, he married the dear
est lady that was ever born, my mother,
and instead of figuring that he Is the
luckiest man in the world he figures that
he was a wise guy and u good picker.
I wish I was married to a man like
that. Maybe I wouldn't have him guess
ing. I woul<j be so cranky and hard
to get along with that he would com
mence to think maybe there was some
thing wrong with his own system, and if
that didn’t make him sit up and take
notice I would try something else to
make him know that he wasn’t the
candy kid. If a husband has got a
*ood wife he ought to appreciate it.”
’’Yes,’’ said the Head Barber, "but
not half so much as a wife ought to
appreciate a good husband. Good hus
bands is like the letter ‘x.’ You don't
run across many of them. I hope that
woman you are talking about will be
happy with her struggling poet.”
"No,” said the Manicure Lady, sol
emnly, “she can’t never be really hap
py no more.”
Musical.
It was at a musical given in an
old-fashioned country house, and th'j
soprano was screeching her loudest.
"The room is cold.” complained one
of the guests, "and I would like t *
stir the fire in the grate, hut I don’t
know how to do it without interrupt
ing the music
“That’s easy,” suggested his com
panion: ‘ stir it between the bars.”
:CO/
Give Your Boys Muscle Food
Give that growing boy and girl of yours food that
will nourish and build up their bodies, food that
makes sound bone, strong muscle and healthy flesh.
FAUST SPAGHETTI is just that kind of food. It is
made from Durum wheat — a cereal extremely rich
in gluten—a bone, muscle and flesh builder.
SPAGHETTI
can be served in many tempting
ways. It always makes a savory,
relishable dish and is very easily
digested. You have no idea how
many delicious ways you can
serve FAUST SPAGHETTI until
you read our free recipe hook
—write for it.
At all grocers’—
5c and 10c packages.
MAULL BROS.
St. Louis, Mo.
/K
Via New Orleans
THE SAFEST AND BEST
ROUTE TO CALIFORNIA
LOW
One Way COLONIST Rates from Atlanta, in Ef
fect September 26 to October 10.
$42.20 TO CALIFORNIA
Through Standard and Tourist Sleeping Care. Aak tor
information and literature.
0. P BARTLETT, O. A. R. 0. BEAN, T. P, A,
D. L. GRIFFIN, 0. P. A
121 Peachtree Street, Atlanta, G».