Newspaper Page Text
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%
ini,
Their Married Life
By MABEL HERBERT URNER.
{(T^V EAR will you lift out trls
[ ytray for me?”
‘'Where do you want it?"
With his cigar in his mouthy Warren
lifted the tray from Helen’s trunk and
stood looking around for a place fc o
put it.
“Here, on the bed. No—wait, I
want to fold some things there. Just
put it here.” shoving forward a chair.
But the chair seat was not quite
wide enough, and the next moment
the tray toppled over, its carefully
packed contents scattered over the
floor.
‘‘The devil!" muttered Warren,
scowling at the up-turned trav.
“Oh, and I had it all packed!” be
wailed Helen, almost in tears.
“Well, why’d you tell me to put it
there?” resuming his studv of the
steamer plan, while Helen turned over
the tray and began to repack it on the
floor.
“This outside room on Deck B looks
pretty good.” he frowned, “but there’s
that promenade deck right outside,
and we don’t want any infernal band
waking us up every morning, as we
had coming over. What d’you say?
Take a cltance on that room?”
“Why. dear, whatever yq$r think.”
murmured. Helen absent-mindedly,
intent on repacking the tray.
'Well, look this over when you get
through there.” And Warren threw
down the plan, thrust his cigar be
tween his teeth, took off his coat and
drew a bunch of keys from his pocket.
When Warren packed, he went at it
with a grim determination to get
through, and it took him only about
one-flfth the time it took Helen.
Now he pulled out his trunk from
the wall, unlocked It, strode over »o
the wardrobe and came back with an
armful of suits.
“Oh, do he careful.” warned Helen,
who wap sitting on the floor, with the
contents of the tray spread around
her. But even as she spoke a box lid
crunched under Warren’s foot.
“Then don’t plant yourself right in
the middle of the floor! Shove that
stuff up against the wall or go into
the front room—this bedroom Isn’t big
enough for us both to pack in.”
Helen dreaded packing. It was al
ways a trying time, for Warren hated
the confusion and was always irri
table.
Warren Finishes.
“How about these soiled clothes?”
he demanded, taking down the laun-
drv hag from the wardrobe door.
"Want me to put these in mv trunk?’
“Oh. yes. if you will. Dear, I’m
going to be SO crowded—if you conld
only spkre me a little room?”
“Well, I can’t. I told vou to buy
an extra trunk If you didn’t get it —
that’s your own lookout.”
“But we've got more trunks at
home than we’ve place to put them,”
protested Helen. “T hated to buy an
other.” Then suddenly, “Isn't that
someone knocking? Won’t you see?*'
Warren strode into the front room
and returned with a large basket of
clothes.
“Oh, I'd forgotten about the laun
dry,” exclaimed Helen in dismay.
"How WILL I get all those things
in?”
With a shrug Warren went on with
his packing, and in a marvelously
short time he was through.
“Now, you can have the field to
youfself,” as he locked his trunk and
went into the next room. “I’m go
ing to write some letters.”
For the next hour Helen anguished
over her packing. Even her dainti
est things had to he crushed into the
smallest possible space.
“Getting through?” Warren ap
peared at the door with the stamped
letters in his hand. “This is our last
night in Paris. Hnw about going
over to the Cafe de la Paix?”
“Oh. dear, I can’t—I’m not nearly
through.” glancing abound the room
still littered with things yet to he
packed. “And with that hard Channel
trip to-morrow—won’t we be too tired
if we go out to-night?”
“We’ll have the whole week on the
steamer to rest up in.”
“Yes, I know, but I don’t believe I
CAN go out to-night.”
“All right, suit yourself—but I’m
going.”
Her heart sank as she watched him
SAVED F
OPERATIONS
Two Women Tell How They
Escaped the Surgeon’s
Knife by Taking Lydia
E. Pinkham’s Vege
table Compound.
Swarthmore, Penna.—"For fifteen
years I suffered untold agony, and for
cne period of
nearly two years
I had hemor
rhages and the
doctors told me I
would have to un
dergo an opera
tion. but I begin
taking Lydia J£.
I'inkham’s Vegj-
table Compound
and am in good
I health now. I am
til over the
Change of Life and can not praise
your Vegetable Compound too highly.
"*"xsrv woman should take It at that
time. I recommend it to both old and
young for female troubles.”—Mrs.
EMILY SUMMERSGILL, Swarth-
more, Pa.
Baltimore, Md.—"My troubles be
gan with the loss of a child, and I had
• emorrhages for four months. The
doctors said an operation was neces
sary. but I dreaded it and decided to
try Lydia E. Pinkhams Vegetable
Compound. The medicine has made
me a well woman and I feel strong
and do my own work.”—Mrs. J. R.
PICKING. 1260 Snrgent St., Balti
more, Md.
Since we guarantee that all testi
monials which we publish are genu
ine, Is it not fair to suppose that if
Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Com
pound has the virtue to heln theso
women it will help any other woman
iwHa is auasriag in a like manner?
brush his coat, take his hat and stick
und start out. It was a wonderful
night. A soft breeze blew aside the
curtains, bringing In the strains of a
distant hand organ, and the mingled
street sounds of the summer night.
Helen started up. It was their laet
night—oh, why hadn't she gone with
him? Hhe could finish packing when
they came hack. What difference did
It make if she didn't get to bed at all!
Breathlessly she ran to the door, but
the hall was empty. Warren had gone
down. Then she saw on the dresser
the letters he had left there when he
brushed his coat. Would he come
back for them?"
Hurriedly she dressed for the
street—to he ready in case he should
come. Then she gathered up the let
ters and started down to mail them.
He might still be lingering about the
office.
Mails Letters.
The lobby was full of people but
Warren was not there. She dropped
the letters In the box and walked ti
one of the long, low French windows
that opened out on the street. This
was their last night in Paris. Never
had the lights and gayety of the
streets seemed so alluring.
She pictured Warren at one of the
little outdoor tables before the Cafe
de la Palx, sipping a cognac and
watching the gay throng that
streamed by that popular corner.
Then like an inspiration came a sud
den thought that sent the color to
her cheeks. Why could she not go
now? If she took a cab—-ahe would
he perfectly safe.
Whenever Helen yielded to an im
pulse, she yielded quickly, knowing
that if she stopped to think it over,
she would probably not yield at all.
And now she rushed up to the desk
with an eager request for a cab.
Three minutes later she was being
whirled toward the Cafe de la Palx.
What if Warren should not be there?
But she need not get out of the cab
unless she saw him. Her heart was
beating fast. To be driving alone at
night through the streets of Paris
—the very daringness of it thrilled
her with a sense of adventure.
When the cab drew up, Helen
gazed out In dismav. She had not
realized how many tables there were
in front of this famous cafe. How
could she find Warren In all that
crowd ?
The driver opened the door expect
antly, but Helen would not leave the
sheltering refuge of the cab until she
hnd located Warren. \t length she
saw him at a small table far back of
the green hedge.
With eager excitement she sprang
out, paid the cabman and started
through the maze of crowded tables.
Warren wa^ Just as she had pictured
him, his hat pushed back, leisurely
smoking a cigarette with a small cor
dial glass before him. He did not see
her until, with an excited laugh, she
slipped into the chair beside him.
He did not seem surprised. War
ren was never startled. Now he mere
ly flicked the ashes from his cagerette
and asked, with cold displeasure:
"What sort of a caper do you call
this?”
“Oh, dear, I couldn’t stay there
alone. I should’ve come with you.
It’s our last night in Paris—and 1
couldn’t spend it packing.”
"How’d you get here?”
“I took a cab—It was perfectly
safe.”
“Suppose I hadn’t been here?”
He Is Angry.
“I’d have gone back—I didn’t leave
the cab until I saw you.”
‘‘Well, you might expect such es
capades from a young girl—but you’re
old enough to have more sense.”
“Please don't be cross, dear,” slip
ping her hand into his under the ta
ble. “I pictured you sitting here—
and I couldn’t help coming.”
“What do you want to drink?” un
graciously, as the waiter suggestively
wiped off the little marble-topped ta
ble.
“I’d rather have an Ice. Do they
serve ices out here?”
When, a little later, the waiter
brought a tall, slender glass of mer-
inque glace, Helen dipped into it with
a sigh of content.
For almost an hour they eat there,
watching the changing crowds at the
tables and the never-ceasing stream
of people passing by.
“Dear, wouldn’t you think they’d
have these street cafes in New York?”
“Sidewalk space too narrow’ and
taxes too high,” answered Warren,
who by this time was in a better hu
mor. “This sort of place Isn’t* so
profitable. See that fellow over therf
with the Panama hat? He's been sit
ting there all evening and he’s or
dered only that glass of beer. The
management’s losing money on that
table, all right.”
The theaters were out now. and cab
After cab rolled up. from which step
ped women in conspicuous toilets.
Many of them were actresses, and
some of them looked as though they
had come direct from the stage. Their
escorts were dapper Frenchmen with
opera hats and light gray spats.
One tall blonde In a trailing white
gown was followed by a huge white
bulldog with a jeweled collar. From
tlie next cab swept & pale, slender
woman with gleaming dark eye*—a
famous French actrest.
“Dear, this IS a wonderful place,
isn’t.It? You do see things here. No
—no, let’s not go yet,” as Warren
pushed back his glass and glanced at
his watch. “They’re just beginning
to come in from the theater We may
never be in Paris again—oh, I’d love
to stay a little longer.”
"Well, you’re a marvel of consist
ency,'' shrug-ged Warren. "You didn’*
have time to come at all—now you
want to stay all night. But all right
I've no packing to do—I’m game,’’ as
he lit a fresh cigarette and shoved
his empty glaas toward the waiter.
“My Own Beauty Secrets
99
By ANNA HELD
No. 2—The Magic That Makes Scrawny Necks Appear Attractive
By ANNA HELD
Heading "Anna Held's All-Star Varlet:
Jubilee," Under Management
of John Cert.)
(Copyright, 1918, International News
Service. >
H AVE you beautiful white
shoulders?
Is your neck white and
swan-llke?
Do you dare turn your back to
people with the pleasant certainty
that they must praise, not criticise?
Of course you want the slender,
graceful, youthful figure that is so
fashionable to-day—but If you have
dieted and exercised and taken
medicated baths to acquire It have
you produced a youthful contour
and at the same time brought on a
scrawny neck, protruding shoulder
blades and a back in which every
rib seems fighting for a place in
the world?
I have a message of cheer for
you If you have.
Smooth, white, plump shoulders
\
1
/
of rose wuler and add it to the
mixture. This will keep your skin
free from roughness all during the
winter weather, and in Bummer it
will prove a foe to sunburn.
Now wash your neck and shoul
ders. Of course, you say? Yes,
but I mean wash in a way that you
have probably not thought neces
sary.
First, prepare for the cleansing
process by taking a few simple
arm and shoulder and throat exer
cises so as to get the blood in cir
culation and the skin glowing
Then rub the neck, arms, shoul
ders and back with the cold cream
and remove every bit of It with one
of the soft cloths Gray and
grimy the cloth will be.
That means that the pores have
yielded some of the dust they have
been attempting to secrete.
Now wash thoroughly with a
fine white lather of your soap
(unperfumed soap unless you can
afford the finest and most expen
sive of the perfumed kinds), and
use your brush of rubber or soft,
silky bristles to scrub away any
lingering soil.
Next make a paste of the cool
line at your throat, will not this
dainty sjrup be a blessing?
My long string of pearls gives
the “V" line that is so kind to the
plump face and the short neck. A
bit of ribbon and a pretty little
locket will produce the same long
line from neck to throat.
lu the same way the long ’’V”
at the hack of my dress gives a
chance to show the long line from
the nape of the neck to the back.
The fluffy feather finish across
my Bhoulders Is very softening
and becoming.
Out of such a filmy mass a long
white throat and curved shoulders
rise most effectively. If feathers
are beyond your pocketbook, tulle
will again prove the friend In need.
A little study of line, a little
putienee In doing away with hol
lows or surplus fat and care to
whiten the skin are the first steps
toward acquiring the beauty of
perfect arms and shoulders.
Then artistic clothes and a good
arrangement of ornament and—-
Mademoiselle Pupil, or Madame
Student—I think you will be the
belle of your next ball!
(t&M
Ms
m w
A
m?
One Woman’s Story .
By VIRGINIA TERHUNE VAN DE WATER
“Study Your Lines.”
and throat and a chest and tack
to match ar9 waiting for you and
for every woman who is not too
lazy to help herself to them.
Two Principles.
There are two great principles
at stake In the beauty search. The
first Is, cure all the defects you
possibly can.
The second is, cover over in
some artistic way all the defects
you can not conceal.
For instance, if you can bleach
the skin of your throat white, clear
milk white, and it still Insists on
being a bit too thin for actual
beauty, cultivate the habit of ar
ranging some soft folds of tulle at
your ^throat.
The shadowing effect of the
tulle will throw' hollows and bones
Into the background and bring out
your beauty of skin.
On the other hand, if your skin
is yellow and the flesh of your
throat is firm and plumply out
lined a bit of black velvet will
make you look comparatively fair,
while your beauty of outline is un-
conoealed.
However, I think it a very easy
mRtter to cure all defects—both of
color and line. I hope that by the
time you are through reading you
will agree with me.
In the first place lay in a supply
£
r
“ It Is Easy to Cure Defects. ’ ’
J
Do You Know—
CHAPTER XXXV.
M ARY answered Gordon Grain's let
ter, writing a short and formal
reply, thanking him for his sym
pathy and saying that she hoped hla
little daughter would be a great com
fort to him. She did not suggest that
she might ever see him again. Indeed,
she nev^r allowed herself to think of
this poastbillty. The man was dead to
her
Nor did her sentiments change when,
six months later, she received a San
Antonio newspaper, containing a marked
notioe that Gordon Craig would soon
move to New York to open there a
branch office in connection with his
business In Texas. She was Interested,
to he Bure, but still she told herself
again that his coming East meant noth
ing to her She wondered for a minute
where his baby —poor motherless mite—
was. As Craig did not tell her that his
own mother was caring for hla little
daughter, Mary's heart ached at the
thought of the child’s loss of the mothsr-
love that had been her own portion and
which her own child received in gener
ous measure.
Her little hoy continued delicate, and
Mary was always anxious about him.
Once she asked her physician why the
boy was not strong and well.
"I give him the best care of which T
am capable.” she said, "and Just the
food that you say he should have, yet
he does not gain flesh and color. What
is the trouble with him?"
The doctor looked grave. "To be
frank, Mrs. Fletcher, "he answered, “you
were overworked for months before the
child came and, of course, your ner
vous condition told upon him. But we
will hope to overcome this congenital
weakness and make a strong man of
him yet '
Even as he spoke the physician did
not feel confident of the hope he held
out to the anxious mother Yet doctors
must say such things if they would
ke*»p their patients brave.
When the child was eighteen months
old. Bert told Mary that he "had to
go away on a three weeks' trip to the
West.”
"Business demands it.’’ he said. The
wife was ashamed of the wave of re
lief that swept over her as she appre
ciated what it would mean to he un
afraid of his condition for the length
of time he mentioned. She, reproached
herself, for site knew that If he drank
when In New York, he would certainly
do so out In a far-off city where there
was no danger of his delinquencies be
ing suspected by his wife oq mother.
Then another thought seized her
“You will leave me with enough
money to live on while you are absent,
won’t you, Bert?" she asked. "You
know out rent Is overdue, and. I have
no ready money In the house."
“I’ll manage to pay the rent before
I leave.” returned her husband gruffly,
“but I can’t let you have any other
cash. I need It for traveling exi>enHes."
"But Bert," she reminded him, "baby
and l must live. And you know I have
not a cent of my own."
"You might have had some," he said
b^itally, "if you had not spent the
little your mother left In burying her.
To he sure it was only a couple of hun
dred, but you could have made cheaper
funeral arrangements than you did."
This speech proved to Mary Flet
cher, more than anything else had ever
done, to what depths of coarseness her
husband had been sinking of late. She
remembered his seeming grief at her
mother’s death, and wondered how he
could speak as he now did of the wo-
man he had respited. Y*t rrh» did not
uttar any protest, but rsturnod. attar a
moment, to the matter In hand. For
alls and the baby must llvo.
"What do you propose to have me
<io during your absence, Bert?" she
asked. "I am sorry to seem so per*
slstent, but I must plan for caring fop
tha child."
“Oh, I'll see about It.” mid the man.
“Don't fuss ary more. There's Mm*
enough to arrange all that."
Three days later Mary received a tet
ter from her mother-in-law. Bert had
told her, she wrote, of his projected trip
While she did not approve of It. she had
so far lost all influence over her ho a
that what she said to him went for lit
tle He had asked her to lend him
money to leave with his wife while ha
was away. This she couM not do. She
had already lent him so much money to
as he hald told her—put into his busi
ness that she simply could not afford to
give him any more. In fact she her
self was living more economically than
ever before and had moved Into a flat
smaller than the other one she had oc
cupied, and in a very undesirable neigh
borhood. She had kept all this from
Mary as Bert had asked her to do, but
the time had now come when the wife
must know it. The proposal Bert’s
mother now had to make was that Mary
and the baby come and stay with hef
during Bert’s absence.
The child ain’t well,'’ she wrote, "an<$
perhaps the change would do It good. S
' " u d better be here with me, getting V v
your food and the child’s than out in
that lonely village starving."
Mary’s face flushed as she read. How
could she bring herself to be an object
of her mother-ln-law’s charity? Then
she reminded herself that she was nofl
going to town for her own sake, hut fot
the sake of the child, and that It waa
also Rert’s child, and h1s mother’s grand
son. What right had the wife to allow
her personal pride to stand between her
and what might he for the baby’s good?
She remembered a proverb of her hus
band’s. and the full meaning of It made
her smile bitterly as she repeated—
“Needs must when the devil drives!* 4
She no longer deceived herself by trying
to see the good points in her husband'd
character. They were too hard to find*
But she must endure for the sake of the
baby. As long as he lived that would
be her duty.
WMen Bert came home that night she
told him of his mother’s letter.
“Yes," he said, "ma said she'd write
and ask you down. You’d better go to
her. for Lord knows I haven't a cent
to keep you on while I'm away. Times
are harder than ever!"
Mary was not impressed by this last
remark, for when her husband had been
spending money recklessly he always
explained the lack of ready funds by de
claring that times were hard or that
there wan “nothing doing in the busi
ness world.”
Not His Business to Inquire.
“Guv’nor," said the dusty traveler,
“how far Is Jt to Gloucester?”
" ’Bout a mile and a half," replied
the farmer.
“Can I ride with you?”
“Certainly. Climb In.”
At the end of three-quarters of art
hour the traveler began to be uneasy.
“Guv’nor," he asked, "how far are we
from Gloucester now?"
** ’Bout four mile and a half.”
“Great haystacks! Why didn’t you
toll me we were going away from
Gloucester?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you wanted)
to go there?”
4
Miss Anna Held in Pictures Especially Posed for This Page.
of good soap, a complexion brush,
plenty of soft cloths, some cold
cream, almond meal and a lotion
of cucumbers, that I will tell you
how to make.
Peel the cucumbers and remove
the seeds.
Put the cuoumbers and their
juice in a clean saucepan and let
this simmer for an hour.
Cool, strain through a cloth, add
one tableppoonful of alcohol and
one of glycerine for each pint of
juice.
Take one-fourth the total amount
SNAP SHOTS
By LILLIAN LAUFERTY.
Home, Sweet Home.
It was midnight. The burglar had
entered the house a* quietly as pos
sible. but his shoes were not padded
and they made a little poise. He hao
just reached the door of the bedroom
when he heard some one moving in
the bed as if about to get up, and he
paused. The sound of a woman’s
voice floated to his ears.
“If you don’t take your boots off
when you come into this house," it
said, "there’s going to be trouble,
and a whole lot of It. Here It’s been
raining for three hours, and you dare
to tramp over my carpets with your
muddy boots on. Go downstairs and
take them off this minute.”
He went downstairs without a
word; hut he didn’t take off his boots.
Instead he went straight out into th«
night again, and the “pal” who was
waiting for him saw a tear glisten in
his eye.
“I can’t rob that house,” he said.
“It reminds me of home.”
The poetry of earth is never dead:
When all the birds are faint with the hot
sun
And hide in cooling trees, a voice will
run
From hedge to hedge above the new-
mown mead.
That Is the grasshopper’s—he takes the
lead
In summer luxury 1 —he has never done
With hla delights, for, when tired out
with fun
He rests at east beneath some pleasant
weed.
The poetry of earth Is ceasing never.
On a lone winter evening, when the
frost
Has wrought a silenoe, from the stars
there shrills
The cricket’s song, in warmth Increas
ing ever.
And seems to one in drowsiness half-
lost.
The grasshopper’s among some grassy
hills.
r-Jolin Keats.
The death of earth le to become wa
ter, and the death of water le to be
come air, and the death of air Is to be
come fire and reversely.—Heraclitus
• • •
GLEANINGS FROM THE PHILISTINE.
Anybody can give fifty-seven reasons
for not doing the thing ho does not want
to do but should do.
Dame N atur « seems to consider that
anything you do not utilize Is not need
ed; and she Is averse to carrying dead
freight, so drops It.
People who do not play together can
not work together long.
A city supplies Inspiration—but only
from a distance Onoe mix up in It and
become a part of It and you are Ironed
out and subdued. People who do big
things In a city have their homes In the
country The oommuters are the boys,
after alL
ing almond meal and allow this to
remain on your skin for fifteen
minutes. Finally wash in very
cold water.
Splash it. on In great handfuls
so that its force will give you a
natural massage. How your skin
will glow and tingle! Blood is
coming to feed the tissues and to
round out your contours In beauty.
Finally, rub on the cucumber lotion
and let It stay on.
This treatment night and morn
ing, or even every night, will help
a sallow skin and cure scrawny
shoulders. And It Is very simple,
Is it not?
More Hints.
Now, let me tell you of a few
aids to beauty that I find useful.
If you can not nfTord Jewels you
may make yourself ornaments of
tulle or soft gauze ribbon, of vel
vet or of filmy chiffon. It takes
but a little patience and Ingenuity,
and once you begin to study what
pretty effects you can get. with a
line here and a shadow there you
will never be guilty of an ugly line
or arrangement of jewels.
Notice the strap of pearls that I
wear under my chin. You can get
the same softening effect with a
bit of pink or white maline. If
high collars have made an ugly
l
i ■ . i.i.. • ■"■■■ ••'■■■■
■SEABOARD EXCUR
SION TO BIRMINGHAM
Monday, September 22,
$2.50 round trip. Leaves
Old Depot 8:30 a. m. Tick
ets good returning on regu
lar trains.
• No machine has yet been invented
in France which can supersede man
ual labor * In the manufacture of
champagne bottles. The men per
forming this difficult work are well
paid.
In the wt‘8t of England, especially
Cumberland, the greater part of the
rain falls in winter; but in the east
the fall Is heavier In the summer
half of the year.
The heart of a standing man beats
81 times a minute; of a sitting one,
71 times. When the man is lying
down, its beata are reduced to 66'per
j minute.
The most common letter Is E. In
| 1,000 letters, E occurs 137 times in
English, 184 times In French, 14o
in Spanish and 178 In German.
Ebony is always soaked In water
for from six to eighteen months as
soon as cut. It comes chiefly from
Mauritius and the East Indies.
India grows 16,800,000 tons of rice
yearly and eats 15,700,000. All Eu
rope eats only two and a half million.
Horses, giraffes and ostriches have
the largest eyes of land creatures,
cuttlefish of sea beasts.
Consumption causes one-seventh of
all the deaths in the world.
London uses 20,000,000 tons of coal
a year.
There are nearly 2.000 stitches in
a pair of hand-sewn boots.
10c Package(1 Equals 4 lbs.
of Beef in A Food Value
You spend too much money on meat—it’s the one big
item in your high cost of living. Cut your meat
bill two-thirds and substitute Faust Spaghetti
for awhile. A 10-cent package contains as
much nutrition as 4 lbs. of beef.
SPAGHETTI
is made from Durum wheat, the cereal that is ex
tremely rich in gluten, the protein that makes
muscle, bone anu flesh, Faust Spaghetti
makes a savory, reiishahie, nutritious
meal. Free recipe book tells how
Spaghetti can be cooked to tickle
the palate.
At all jroemro' —6c and 10c poc4«r««.
MAULL BltOSw Si. LouU. Mo.
CAGO
CHOICE OF ROUTES
AND GOOD SERVICE
KODAKS&.
First Class Finishing and Ea-
larglng. A complete stock lima,
pa para, oh am I c ala.
Mall Order Department
plates.
for
out-of-town eustomen.
Send for Oatalooue and Prfea Lie*.
• A. K. HAWKtS CO, Kodak
| 14 Whitehall 8t. ATLANTA. OA.
Every Woman
U interested and shonld
know about the wonderful
Marvel Z* i, «**»'*»
Douche
Ask your druggist for
it. If he cannot sup
ply the MARVEL,
accept no other, but
j send stamp for book.
I War,el Co.. 41 E. 234 St. B.T.
An Opportunity
ToMake Money
la.tutor, awn of idea, aad ianatna ability, dioeM md tv-
day tor our 1*1 of raraation. ceded, aad prize, .farad by Itadhg
oaaJlufac hirer,.
Parent. Kcared or oar fra retaraod. “Why Saras fcaveatar.
Fail." “How to Cot Yoar Palm and Yoar Maaoy.“ mti albas
valuable booUaae seat free (o amy addrara
RANDOLPH a CO.
Patent AUerseySi
618 “F* Street, N. W. f
WASHINGTON. D. G.
as