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.:. Their Married Life .:.
By MABEL HERBERT URNER.
I T was a imall millinery shop In the
Rue D&ifiou. There were only three
hats In the window. In Paris the
fewer the h*ts displayed In the window
the higher he prices in the shop.
Helen ha. paused to look at one of
the three htts. It was small, extreme
ly stmple. Jvl the same shade of blue
as her tnveling suit. Another mo
ment’s hestatlon, and *he entered the
awning shtfed door.
Tnvlde tHre was .lost <me hat on a
(all slendeTbrass stem. Except for this
solitary ewience of millinery the place
might hav been an undertaking estab
lishment, o severely plain and austere
were its da*k green velvet hangings and
polished lt*ss rods
Helen tas beginning to fear that the
simple hg in the window might not be
so inexpensive after all. From behind
a velvet screen, which shielded many
shelves d bandboxes, swept an impres
sive Fretch woman in a clinging, trail
ing blaa* satin gown.
She gve Helen just one swift glance
and thd asked in English:
"Goo< afternoon, madame. Is there
anythirf I can show you"”
“I skrald like to see the small blue
hat inf the window,” answered Helen,
somcveat disconcerted at so Instantly
bei*?-^cognized as an American, but re-
He’rd at not having to depend on the
algi language and her half do*en words
of? French.
With pleasure, madam,” sweeping
o*»r to the window, the trailing point
of her skirt wriggling snake-like over
tfe green velvet carpet.
“It’s a smart little model, is it not?”
IB she took it out and held it up for
Helen’s inspection. Won’t you try it
•n?"
Drawing out her hatpins, Helen sat
down before the long mirror.
The French woman stood back of
her with the hat carefully poised.
Watching the effect in the mirror, with
the air of ferforming some difficult and
delicate operation, she slowly lowered
the hat on Helen’s head.
"Voila, madame!” lapsing into French
with an expres»lve gesture.
Helen liked tie hat. It suited her. and
it fitted her hied without the need of
an annoying bando.
•‘The side vie* is perfect,” purred the
French womap. giving her a hand mir
ror.
A Big Price.
The hat wa.‘ covered with lus
trous blue mole silk, and the only
trimming was a single uncurled
feather beneath the rim at the
side. When Helei first glanced at It in
the window she hid thought seventy-five
francs—fifteen ddlars. When she en
tered, that estimate rose to twenty
dollars. Now sfc feared it might be
nearer twenty-flu
"And the price"
carelessly.
"Pardon, madtm
glancing at the little ticket inside the
hat. “Four huidred francs. mriSam.
That is about :ighty dollars in your
money, is it not”’
Aftqr the first second of blank amaze
ment Helen w~s furiously Indignant.
Did this womtfl think all Americans
were either fool ur millionaires? With
out comment took off her hat and
reached for he own.
Her silence 'as far more disconcert
ing to this sutercllious French woman
than would hare been any criticism of
the price.
“I can sho' you some other models
—some very mart models that are not
quite so exprtsive," hurriedly, as Helen
started to levs the shop.
"No. Chart you,” coldly. “I don’t
care to seeinything else.”
Outside .he Indignant color still
flamed in lelen’s cheeks. Eighty dol
lars for a iat for whioh even the most
expehslv# New York shops would not
ask ovey thirty! It was almost an In
sult to F r intelligence.
Sudddily she stopped. For a moment
she sto/W transfixed as she gazed across
the st/feet at a familiar figure with a
famllpr swinging stride. It was War
ren! I
lless of cabs and motors, she
to rush across the street. He
jow paused on the corner as though
f ike a bus. Fearlessly Helen darted
high the maze of traffic, the drivers
utlng at her.
(e Tells Warlen.
iVarren had raided his can® at an
iproaching bus and was just about to
imp on when she rushed up and caught
|s arm with a panting
‘Oh, Warren, Warren!”
, 'Hello! Where’d you come from?"
inemotionally.
I was so afraid I wouldn't catch
Oh, dear, isn’t it wonderful to
this way on the street? It’s the
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 almost 5 now. I’ve got
She tried to ask it
I will just see,'
h
* \
Drink-
Maxwell
House
Blend
••The Quality Caffe*’'
More sold and more
enjoyed than any
other high grade cof
fee in the South.
to send a cable and then I’m through.
Want to go with me?”
"Oh, yes. yes," eagerly.
tthere’ve you been, anyway?"
When Helen caught her breath she
told him about the millinery shop she
had Just come from, about the hat and
the exorbitant price.
And it wasn’t worth a cent more
than $20.’ she finished, resentfully,
“though I wanted it so much 1 might
have pakl $25."
’’Did you offer her that?"
"Why, no, not when she asked $80!
What would nave 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.
“CouJdn’t you come with me?” ex
citedly. "It's very rear here.”
“All right; I'm game. We'll call her
bluff.”
But as Warren walked back with her
toward the shop Helen's elation was
mingled with misgivings. She felt sure
the woman would, not consider $25. and
she did 1 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 French woman could hardly re
strain a smile of satisfaction whep. %he
saw Helen re-enter, for she felt sure of
the sale now.
"I believe my wife was loking at a
hat here a few mfhutes ago.”
‘ Yes. sir.” beamingly, as she took the
hat from the window. “It w-as excep
tionally bsroming to madame—wouldn’t
you like to see it on her?"
“That’s not necessary. My wife likes
the hat. Now, I’ll tell you what I’ll do:
I’ll 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 $25. 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. Jf you want to have
the hat there at that time C. O. D.. all
right.”
,T But that a impossible, sir! To ac
commodate madame, I might take off
the feather and let her have it for $50—
that’s the very best I can do."
"No, we’re buying it as it is. If you
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,”
exclaimed Helen, when they reached I he
street. "Why, she was furious—she
was fnsulted 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
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
with a hand box.
"Nk six yet," suggested Warren,
noting her glance 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
franca—$25.
The next moment Helen was taking
th’e hat from its tissue wrappings.
"Is it all right?" Warren demanded,
drawing out his wallet.
"Oh, yea—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 w-ell nail that
$25. That’s the way to handle these
French tradespeople. They think all
Americans have more money than
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 ths Germs® of Btmhwd
fermsn version. Copyright o<1. 1&1B. by *•
Pm-har Y arise. Berlin. English translation inf
compilation by
Advice to the Lovelorn
By BEATRICE FAIRFAX.
LEARN SELF-CONTROL.
Dear Miss Fairfax:
Four months ago I accidentally
became acquainted 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 madly 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 dbes not intrude. He simply
does not love you. He does not know
you well enough. 1 want you to lova
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 wc were
to be 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 w’ant 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. Naturally, 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 be lost
through a w’him.
MARRY HER FIRST.
Dear Miss Fairfax:
T am in business with my father,
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 I
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. Tout
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, but you will
have very little of that $500 left w’hen
you get there.
Trate Father—Here, I’ve paid you
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 vlch 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 boy? Spwained your w’lst?
“Naw; rheumatism. Left one of me
rings off the other day, ye know, and
caught cold In me flngavv.”
One day a gentleman asked a blue
Jacket w hy 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.”
(CcMTlfhUd. 1*18. by International Nvm Somco.l
TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT.
O'Malley met her eyes without a
quiver.
“In the tunnel." hf replied.
"Good evening.” she said coldl> ; I
and sw’ept 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 was stub
bornly avoiding her after her father
had declined to rise to his suggestion
as to the private financing of the
tunnel.
For a 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
ministration building by daylight. If
he w’ent 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 w’ritten 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 token his daughter Into his
confidence on the receipt of this let
ter and tye had followed her advice
Then, one night, about - ten days
after her encounter with O'Malley,
she placed herself In her limousine
about 60 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
w’hen 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
w r as 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
car.
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 coulil not catch a glimpse of
his face. s She was bitterly disap
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 his name soft
ly t ailing in a vaguely familiar voice.
He turned to sec a woman partly
leaning out of the open door of a big
limousine. Slowly, almost reluctant-
Iv, 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 laugh 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 the
car. She slammed the door and the
car moved off. She had given her
chauffeur instructions.
* , \f very busy." be b#*gan. apolo-
* I getically and a little uneasily.
A 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- I have to get back home.”
There was a silence of a minute or
so. She was studying his face. Just
visible In the dim light of the car. She
had carefully 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.
She had Intended to effgarre him in
light conversation and gradually lead
up to the real purpose of the inter
view. She now saw that this was
impossible.
‘T 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—I 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 lips as if to reply in
kind, and then suddenly turned hie
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 a
new tone—one of quiet interest:
“How is your father?"
“He’s quite well, thank you. He was
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 sen
us, she said, “but I didn’t come all
the way down here to Invite you to
come to tea. I wanted to see you and
now T want to talk to you as I would
want you to talk to me if you had the
same—the same interest in me that 1
have in you.”
Straight Talk.
He slowly turned hta head and look
ed at her. She looked full Into his eye*
as she went on.
"The kind of life you are leading now
— this life down here—is 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 da
But there comes a' time when we cease
to rest and begin to mope—or worse.”
Allan stared at her. If she had been
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 hd
resented somewhat the freedom the girl
had taken, but he did not Interrupt.
"You haven't been near us—you
haven’t been neat; any of your old
friends.” she went on. "You have sinv*
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 ges
ture of apology, but she gave It no
heed.
"What do you expect to gain hy this.
Mr. Allan? I 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 liTo.
How did you think you can finish it
when you are hiding from every one who
might help you? And if you don’t finish
it. who will? And if you don’t try to
finish it you won't live! I know that, if
you don’t!
To Re Continued To-morrow.
KODAKSjfS*
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larging. A complete stock Tima,
plates, papers, chemicals, eto.
Special Mail Order Department for
out-of-town customers.
Send for Catalogue and Prloe Ltat.
• A K. HA WKLS CO. Kodak Oapartmowf
| 14 Whitehall St. ATLANTA, 6A.
The Manicure Lady § ©
By WILLIAM F. KIRK.
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
usually has no principle.
CHICHESTER S PILLS
THK DIAMOND HBAND. x
Drudit. Atk forC IM.OlA 0 S.TEB*S
DIAMOND BRAND PILL*. foe • »
yewknsm as B«st, Safest. Always fUllabk
SOLD BY DRUGGISTS EVERVWHFr
^ ^ X SEE a
I day,”
SEE a story in the paper yester-
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 wdth a struggling poet
and take a chance on starving. It all
goes to show, George, that men ain’t so
smart as they think they are. Think
of one of the brightest men in the world
getting fooled that way by a weak
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 at
that brother of yours that you are all
the time talking about. How could he
support anybody on hia 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’t
he see that his wife didn’t care as much
for him as Hhe 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 old
leaguer they call Socrates the . wise
Greek, that lots of grear men have
called the wisest man that ever lived.
You would think that a gent with his
draws a pest, who nags at him until
gel the man of her choice, George, so
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 w’hen
I was telling about this fine, bright (fel
low that got stung was that At 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 tilings.
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 a 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
rood wife he ought to appreciate it.'*
"Yes,” said the Head Barber, “but
not half so much as u 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 I.ady. sol
emnly, "she can’t never be really hap-
py no more.”
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 ran
serve FAUST SPAGHETTI until
you read our free recipe book
—write for it.
At all grocers’—
5c and 10c packages.
THE SAFEST AND BEST
ROUTE TO CALIFORNIA
LOW
One Way COLONIST Rates from Atlanta, in Ef
fect September 25 to October 10.
$42.20 TO CALIFORNIA
Through Standard and Tourist Sleeping Cars. Aak for
information and literature.
O. P. BARTLETT, G. A. R. 0. BEAN, T. P. A.
D. L. GRIFFIN, C. P. A.
121 Peachtree Street, Atlanta, Ga.
An Opportunity
ToMakeMoney
Urrntoa men of idem m'raativa ability, ahowld write te-
for our Ini ef ievaaQaas imM aad pnatos ofrrad iff leading
muufidurwi.
Patents second or our fee *ator%a«L ~VAt A«ns ktesafc**
FeU,'* “How te Get Yoer Patent and Yo«f M—*ff,
valuable booklets savt free to uy addraas.
, RANDOLPH 6k CO.
r,tnl AttnBar*.
618 “F” Street, N. W„
W A SHI* (ATOM. Dw C.