Atlanta Georgian. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1912-1939, September 15, 1913, Image 4

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m ■ - 4 l i • i« # ir?/rr a v * \ r\ vxtircf * *■+. <*— j _ mm _ mru ^ m _ m ^ < ■3)/ Vv MIL A Bachelor’s Dia try Tennis and Golf by / diqht—An Autumn Fad The Roses By MAX. J A TRAGEDY IN RUSSIAN LIFE /y ITQUST SO —-(Rdng in the form ! /A of a •upposititimis dialogue be tween Sally Spencer and my self. She 1* away off in Paris, ab- i •orbed in the vanities of this world, and I am a helpless invalid, conftn* I to a cottage in the northernmost woods of this country, with much j time to reflect on the probabilities of my rewards or punishments In fh • next. The imaginary Sally Is sitting in the little low rocker that swnv emptily with the wind. back anil forth, on the porch beside me in tha' iantallzingly suggestive way that empty rockers have.) SALLY: “1 can stay only a short I time, Max. 1 had to wait a few min utes in the Bon Marche for a fitting and thought 1 would mak* 1 a mental j visit with you while waiting. How ; are you. my dear” You look ll’ie * , mummy with all those blank-M* i*n* r irs around vou. but not a* rick a* * ‘ had expected. Perhaps that n "**tv nurse you have written so much abo’.’t Is prolonging your i!ln?** with a motive " MAX "It is possible that ;he aio- *lve Is on my side ” If Stop*. SALLY You don't mean to sa Mas. that you have b*- ome such dii Imbecile that you condemn yourself to cushions and calomel and airbags for the pleasure you get in bavin*? some silly girl wipe your fate and hands and look solicitous when you a fh. and comb your hair and tell you what a fire-shaped head you ha’, find hold vour hands every time you j have an imaginary pain” Max. I am ashamed of voul” MAX "You are losing your ta ’ The right way to ta’h to a man wh ri he is sick is to ‘ ell him h martyr >n a hero instead of an mbecile." SALLY "I suppose that’s the sort of soothing svrup that nur.-e hands t t-ou? I see it Is time 1 came home from Paris and took you In charge How many, many times are you g)- 'rrr to make it necessar’’ for me r> save you from other women” MAX: ‘ davo me for whom?" (The -rocker, which had swav I rtp’dly when the imaginary Sully w scolding me. stopped short There is e silence Then it begins to sway again, but the imaginary Sally has ( turned her head so that 1 can not * *f her face, and she changes the suh- je< t when she beglr - talking.) SALLY "I suppose you know' thi. Jack is with me !n Paris? That mean > I have something more to do than to match ribbons and laces. The widow is there, too.” MAX : "You did not say for who o ! you want to save me?” SALLY: "I am inosl cordial wlU» her. So cordial and so delighted when I hear Jack Is with her that he is growing suspicious. He asked me '.his morning when dressing for breakfast If 1 was growing tire' 1 of him and wanted to get rid of him.” MAX "Do you? SALLY: "1 hope you will he satis fied with the winter clothes 1 bought for Manette. They cost more than over before, but the child is no longer a baby to be confined to the company of her nurse and governess, and must dress better. You will laugh when I tell you there is a party dress MAX: "I don’t care what you bought. I never care. It doesn't in terest me and never has. and vou know’ I never look at the bills. The nurse nays ” SALLY: "And I don't care what the nurse says I think it very un kind in you, Max, to quote that nurse I to me when I have such a short j time to sia> I have a good notion to come back home and discharge her You are able to travel now, and can be taken home where Richards and Tompkins and 1 can nurse you, or get a man nurse fur that matter.” MAX: ”1 don't want a man nurse. I oni of that daltg it- ful sent* of danger with a man nurse and I refuse to have one Fancy me getting lonely In the long hours of the i night and calling for my nurse to come and sit beside me and smooth my forehead and hold my hand, and ; having a great big. ugly, whiskered man appear! I yvon't have It! I am ; fiek, and sick people always have I what they want ami I want my prei- . ty nurse I think you are very self- I lib, Sally, to begrudge me the only I ro-npensationyickness affords a man a mmpnthy that demands no chap, cron.” (Tl e rocker stopped swinging back forth. The imaginary Sally is •'vUng away ofT into the woods, but I v »1 •• doesn't see the royal color ^f » arlet and gold the tr»es have j ( ut on Pernaps ther® are tears In her eyes and the color* she see* seem rnIn-draggled She turns, and when she speaks again her voice Is low, and has a note of helplessness In It that distresses me I BALLY: "It Ip all a tangle, my life and Jack’s and vonrs I have tried so hard to be good. Max hut with a husband who stravg after every new petticoat a^d whom I can’t love with out compelling myself to love him. • d with the man I do love throwing himself a wav on a woman who can rover care for him as I have cared for year® -why. Max, I—I don’t know wh*i to do!” (It f* mv turn to look at the trees without seeing their beautv. Ir seem^ to me now that all I ‘HW was a little narrow neth t''«t wound in and out among ’he gold-flecked shadows of the woods, and that lost Itself “om**- where in their depths. It would be flne to take Sal) by the hand and lead her floVn t^nt path and never kno • it- ending' I am interrupted in my m<’«irjgs bv a sudden move ment* by 8*111 v. She has r'sen. and has come to m°. and has thrown her arm" around mv neck and is kissing me in the rflanner c* which I have often df' inied flood men are rood also fn ’heir dreams But are there anv ~ood men? • He Wonders. SALLY: "1 won’t give you up! I kept the widow from marrying you. and 1 warn you I will keep the pretty nurse from getting you If I have to go to the limit. I want you for mvself. I have wanted vou for years. Every hour of the day and night I have thought only of vou. though every- op® hel’eved I was such a devoted wife l deceived even -ou! I haven’t been good in nr thoughts, T»ut no woman who doesn't love her husband Is good In her thoughts. It Is import- elide. Max' l don’t love my ho "band, and 1 do love vou. and I know!” A clock »n Mrs. Allen’s dining room j strikes, and even when p woman in making lc e to a man she can’t keep | a dree^-m ■ er waiting Evidently li reminded mv dream visitor of Jhe garment waiting a fitting hi the Bon Marche, for before i* had ceased st * iking the hour Sally was gone. But I wonder if she is that kind of a Sally in her thoughts. 52 The tennis court and golf links at night. No longer art* lor v.uliully uuuthietic to have the ex- rust* that they cannot play outside games because of the pressure of business. Artificially lit lawn courts and a golf links have come into being, as these photographs bear witness. The courts and the “course” in question are at the Woodbury Country Club, at Woodbury, N. J., aud were designed and installed by Thomas J. Lut:<. .:,*. The light is applied by the latest type of incandescent gas lamps, which, it is claimed, are better for the purpose than electric lights. There are four lawn tennis courts. The golf “course”—for putting only—is 80 feet long by 40 feet wide, and has nine holes. Poor Mrs. Craig Household Suggestions M ISS BELINDA dropped with a tired algh into ft aeat on her own porch and her brother Ben frowned at her with disapproval "Look here, young woman," he be gan sternly, "how long arc you going to keep this thing up? First thing you know I’ll have to send for a trained nurse for you or at least pack you off to a real cure at safe distance from the Craigs "Nonsense. Ben, I'm all right. hni greatly exaggerate what I do for poor Mr* Craig " "Well. I don’t exaggerate when 1 tell you that you have passed forty-two hours with poor Mrs. Craig In the last week. 1 have kept time on you." "How ridiculous to do that! I’d no Idea, though, that I'd been at the farm so much. Still, it would he simply brutal not to do what l can for Mrs. Craig when she is ill. and there’s no one but the boys to wait on her or do any- Mlia about the house. The boys are very busy in the fields Just now, too." "Why in the name of all that’s sensi- »»> doesn't she keep a girl "’ I think she would If she could find one Girls are scarce in this neighbor hood." "What's the' matter with that little Mol)} Johnson you sometimes have to help North” Why couldn’t she work for Mrs Craig? “Well,” Miss Belinda laughed, "the matter with Molly is that her eyes are much too blue and her cheeks quite too pink Do you imagine Mrs Craig is keen on offering that particular kind of temptation to her bachelor sons?" Not to Rest. "It's an outrage that she should de pend upon her neighbors to take care of her and run her house. 1 hope you'll have sense enough to stav at home this afternoon and rest." "I shall stay at home " "And rest?" "Well, part of the time, perhaps, but now I must make a cake." "Why not let Norah make the cake’’ If she can't we can easily go without It.” "Oh. this »ake isn’j for us. To-mor row Is Jimmie Craig’s birthday and poor Mrs. Craig is terribly disappointed be cause she isn’t able to make angel’s food for him It seems that that great six- footer. who looks as If he had never tasted anything less substantial than pork and beans, quite dotes on angel's food ’’ "You little woolly lamb! So you promised to make him one. Why don’t vou crochet him a necktie, too?" “In order to reinstate myself In your good opinion let me tell you that I have persuaded Mrs Craig to get a woman with a child, who will be glad to have a country home. I know there Hie ienty of them and I'\« written to Fan nie Drayton to find one through her settlement work.” "That's h good Idea. Be sure to order ope with dull eyes and sallow cheeks. By the way. here’s a letter from Fannie that came while you were gone." Mias Belinda's face brightened as she read the letter "Fannie says she knows a good woman with a dear little girl that she would love to bring up In the country Oh. Ben. Isn't It splendid? Fannie had been hunting for Just such a chance for the widow and what a good thing it will be to poor Mrs. Craig! I must write Fannie to send her at once." "No, I'll call her up on the long-dis tance and usk her to send them out to morrow." I>ute the next afternoon Miss Belinda and her brother drove to the station and returned with a capable but sad- looking mother and child. \ft»r giving them a comfortable supper Miss Be linda conveyed them to the Craig farm, where, through her offices, they were expected. Her Story. "to will he a relief to know that poor Mrs. Craig has some one to look after her and the housekeeping." said Miss Belinda that night. But when the next day cume the woman and the child came also, with the tidings that Mrs. Craig had sent them away "There must be some misunderstand ing." sighed Miss Belinda. "You rest here and I'll run over to the farm and have a talk with Mrs. Craig." When she returned, looking discour aged. her brother said, "Well, how about it?” "Ben, Just think of It! That woman was actually willing to work for the board of herself and the little girl, but Mrs. Craig was vexed because she washed out the child's one little frock this morning She said she couldn’t af ford to furnish laundry soap for the child's washing! When 1 remonstrated against her losing good help for such a small matter, she said, very blandly, 'With such a good neighbor as you, Miss Belinda I don’t eee that 1 really need any hired help.' "Well, i’ll be jiggered! But how about our overhasty importation? What's to he done with the woman and child?" "They re to stay here and build up on country air and good food for a while, ami then I’ll try to find them a perma nent home. You don’t mind their staying here, do you. Ben’” "Oh, no. But 1 must make one re quest, Belinda, and that is that you won't talk to me any more about your poor Mrs. Craig." Handsome Is Leather chair** often become greasy looking here the arms and head rest on the leather. To remove these mnrks try linseed oil. Boll half a pint of oil and let it stand until nearly cold, then pour In half a pint of vinegar. Stir till It is well mixed, and bottle when It is ready for use. Put a few drops on a flannel and polish with soft duster. This will thoroughly renovate all leather. In cases of emergency a kettle or saucepan can be heated over a candle bv the following means: Stand two chrilrs (with rungs) fairly near to gether. Place a lighted candle on the floor between the two. Then lay a pair of fire-tongs across the rung*' of the two chairs and on the tongs place a small kettle or saucepan imme diately over the candle. The water does not take long to boll. Flatirons become rusty if left In a damp place or it put away flat when warm. Rub them first with beeswax, then with dry. coarse salt, using a short, hard brush. When heating irons it Is wipe to remove them from a lighted gas-ring after a few min utes have elapsed, and to wipe away the tlnv specks of moisture which will be found to have formed. To remove smoke-marks from ceil ings, mix a thick paste of starch and water, and with a clean flannel spread It over the mark. Allow It to get thoroughly dry, then brush off with a soft brush and the marks will have disappeared. Before using table oilcloth, paste at each corner on the wrong side a square of cotton. Tills prevents the corners from wearing out as soon as they otherwise would. To keep bread boards a beautiful color, rub them well with half a lemon; then wash them in cold water, and stand them in the wind or in the sun to dry. During hot weather small bags of muslin filled with charcoal should be hung In the pantry on either side of the meat. This will keep It fresh in the hottest weather. When cooking liver and bacon g^t a aour apple, slice it very finely, and* add it to the gravy. This will im part a delicious flavor, which is a great improvement. To give potatoes a flavor add half a teaspoonful of sugar, as well as salt, when boiling. This does not make them too sweet, but gives a delicious flavor. His Love A CHARMING SHORT STORY Do You Know— "Why. haven’t 1 been good to you? | Look at the handsome engagement • ring 1 gave you." "Yes, I took it down to a pawnshop tli® other day to .**ee what 1 could get on i. and he asked me what 1 | wanted for it- marbles or skipping Tactful. Kind words may be more than coronets, and simple faith may beat Norman blood to a frazzle; but. after all. tact Is the possession most dear and most useful to the human race. Mr. Daniels thought so, too. When he left the house he had left Mrs Daniels with a lady friend, whose abilities as a scandal-monger and mischief-maker are pre-eminent. When he returned he just poked his head into the drawing room. "That old cat gone. I suppose?" he said, with a sigh of relief. For just an instant there was a dreadful silence, for as he uttered the last word he encountered the stony glare of the lady who had been in his mind. Then Mrs. Daniels spoke quite calmly. "The old cat?” she said. "Oh. yes. dear I sent it to the Oats' Home in a basket first thing this morning!” I N the wild and inaccessible canyon of the Timok River, which forms the boundary line between Servia and Bulgaria, lies a little mountain hamlet, Vardak. In days of old, while the Christian Serbs were fighting their Turkish op pressors. Vardak was the refuge of hundreds from Turkish violence. From this village they renewed their fight with new vigor. Nowadays Var. dak Is a peaceful village seldom vis ited by strangers. The inhabitants know little or nothing of the out side world nnd many generations died without knowing anything of the great national movement which swept the country. Even when the groat war of liberation set all Serbian hearts aflame the storm of enthusi asm hardly touched Vardak. Only old Ljuba and three other men. armed to the teeth, descended into the valley to fight the arch enemy, but none of them ever returned and after a few years they were completely forgotten. It was taken for granted that they had lost their lives fighting the Turks, for what Serbian peasant would not have hurried oack to his houoe and hearth If he went through the war unharmed ? In this quiet, remote village, Mia den grew up. When his father. Ljuba, descended into the valley to fight the Turks he was still a baby, and now when he had grown into a tall and powerful young man, and earned his living herding the cat tle of the rich peasant. Arsen, did nor remember a single feature of his father’s. But when he looked at the old rusty arms on the walls in the miserable hut he had inherited from his mother, or when he listened to old blind Jezdimir's tales of the feats of his ancestors, the cruelties of the enemy and the desperate fights he saw before his inner eye an image of father, as a tall, broad-shouldered warrior, thirsting for adventure and revenge, and often while he was herd ing his cattle near the river he dreamed of himself fighting the Turks and returning home as a hero cov ered with glory. He saw Arsen run ning to meet him. embracing him and crying: "You are a brave fellow, Miaden, and as a reward. 1 am happy to accept you as my daughter Mllit- za's husband.” Miaden loved Militza. though she did not know it. How should Militza. the riche?? girl in the village, about whom all the young men were fight ing., have suspected that her father’s humblest hireling dared raise his eyes to her? His Secret. Miaden kept the secret of his love to himself, and did not even mention it to old Jezdlmlr. Then the wonderful thing happened. One wintry day. when a terrible bliz. zard was raging in the mountains and Vardak was entirely cut off from the world, a stranger arrived in the vil lage. He went straight to the rich Arsen’s farm and said that he was Sergeant Janko Viluttn, and that the King of Belgrade had declared war against Bulgaria and now called all men to the colors. Every man capable of hearing arms must meet at Zijecar within 24 hours. Tills was the message of the King, and when Miaden heard it his heart began beating wildly and he began to think of all the stories Tezdimir had told him of w tl 1 cruel-looking men swinging their bloody scimitar* and singing their songs of war; but when he heard that he was to fight the Bulgarians, not the Turks, he shook hi* head. This seemed so un natural. The Bulgarians living on the other side of the Timok were good Christians, praying to the same saints as the Serbs. But, of course, the mighty King In Belgrade must know' what he is doing, and it Is not for an ignorant peas ant to trouble his brain trying to understand his orders. The King had issued an order, and all the men of Vardak obeyed and hurried to get. ready for their departure. He is Picked. There were twenty young men al together, and among these was Miaden. They were to leave for Zizecar at dawn the next day. Many a mother clasped her young son In her arms and many a young girl cried until her eyes were red at the thought that she might never see her lover again, but nobody wept for Miaden, for he had neither parents nor sweet heart. But the rich Arsen supplied him well with provisions and Militza shook his hand cordially and present ed him with a holy ikon of the Vir gin. When she felt how his hand trembled in hers she asked in sur prise: “Why do vou tremble so. Miaden?” But Miaden did not answer. He 1 let go her hand, and silently and with bowed head he joined his comrades. • • • Two brother nations that only a few' years previous had been sighing under the same yoke were now at war, a senseless war of foolish am bition. Bloody battles were fought at Silvetza, Zarlnrod and Pirot. The Bulgarians were victorious and the Serbs fled demoralized and in wild disorder, an army of ragged and ex hausted creatures, thousands of whom found their deaths In the blizzard in the mountains near Pirot. When night fell, the fate of the Serbs was sealed. Among the thousands who re mained on the battlefield was Miaden. A shell had torn away his right leg and the wheel of an ammunition cart had crushed his chest. But Miaden did not want to die. He felt no pain, but was warm and comfortable now that the blizzard had stopped and the moon was making night almost as bright as day. He raised his head and across his pale lips came the sound of a name, and she whose name he called bent down over him with a tender smile, and asked: "Why do you tremble, Miaden?” And he told her why, for now he felt as brave as never before: “I love you, Militza.” And she did not grow angry at ail. She smiled and looked at him klndl> with her big blue eyes and he felt her warm breath on his cheek. He could not control himself any longer. H* threw his arms passionately aroun her neck. And while his hot, fever ish hands caught hold of the frozen grass. Miaden fell back into the snow and with a happy smile on his lipe he gave up his young soul. A novel use of compressed air is made by railway companies in the Southern States of America. When the loads of cotton are being taken to the coast there is always danger of their becoming damaged through sparks from the locomotives. To pre vent this, the locomotive boilers are filled with compressed air. A train- load of several thousand bales of cot ton can be hauled by these locomo tives at a rate of twelve miles an hour, although no fire is used in working them. Following the proposal for a tax on bachelors in France, the society “La Race Francaise” suggests that every male citizen who either has not three children alive or who has not reared three children to the age of 21 should be taxed $5.50 a year for each child below the number of three This would apply to both bachelors and married men. Such a tax. it is estimated, would produce about $100,- 000,000 a year. Doubtless the most unique spot in Europe is the little village of Alten- berg, on whosie border three coun tries meet. It -ls» ruled by no mon arch. has no soldiers, no police, and no taxes. Its inhabitants speak a curious jargon of French and Ger man combined, and spend their days in cultivating the ls^nd or working In the valuable calamine mine of w’hich the village boasts. Clocks are now made to run five years with once winding up. In 1881 the Belgian Government placed one of these in a railway station and sealed it. It has kept capital time, having been six times wound—in 1886. 1891. 1896, 1901, 1905 and 1911; and there is a clock in the Church of St. Quentin, In Mayence, which has only stopped once during a period of 500 years. "Aladdin’s lamp, in good working order, price 500,000 pounds,” is the inscription on a card attached to a curious-looking lamp exposed for sale in the nhop-window of a Kingston antique dealer. A pen-nib is a little thing, yet there is more steel used in the manufac ture of nibs than in all the sword and gun factories in the world. A ton of steel produces about 1,500,000 pens. The cost of the navies of the world last year aggregated $725,000,000. Figures compiled by the Depart ment of Inland Revenue at Ottawa show that the people of Canada last year smoked 975,325,501 cigarettes, an increase of nearly 200,000,000 over the figures for 1911. ri toHK season of the ro«e-sellers is now I at its highest in the topsy-turvy -*• ancient City of Moscow, which. In j spite of its stucco German buildings and miniature skyscrapers, still seems to recall the East at every comer of its tortuous streets. Even the rose-sellers here are differ ent from the pale-faced, tired-looking men and women who ply the same trade in the great cities of Western Europe. Every morning when the dawn is Just beginning to break, and the sun, like a great ball of fire, i9 forcing its way up into the silver-gray sky, they take their stand—a ragged, barefooted band of smiling urchins—on the new bridge, be side the Brest station. This bridge is one of the finest struc tures in Moscow. At one end is the Arc DeTrlomphe, guarding the way to the Tverskala, the Piccadilly of Moscow. At the other is the boulevard which twines Its way through the great beeches and sycamores of the Petrovsky Park, in which are situated Yar. Streil- na. Mauretania and the other boisterous pleasure gardens of Moscow nightlife. The bridge is thus the boundary be tween the prosaic, buslnesslilce Teu tonic Moscow of the daytime and the extravagantly riotous, nocturnal Moscow of the Slav. On its friendly parapet the little rose-sellers take their seats, dan gling their half-naked legs against the stone, singing snatches of Russian folk songs, and waiting patiently for the re turn of the belated pleasure-9eekers to their daily task. Suddenly a "lekhatch”—a swift vic toria with large rubber tires—or a motor car, is heard afar off in the silent still ness of the early morning. Some twelve or thirteen ragamuffins spring from their places and race to the middle of the street. There is a quiet patter of naked feet on the rough, jagged cob bles. For a moment the little band keeps pace with the passing vehicle. The sellers jostle and push each other in their eagerness, and with little re gard for their own safety snatch a per ilous foothold on the splashboard. And all the while a fire of pleading requests is kept up incessantly. "Buy a rose, master!" "Fresh roses, my lady? A double for six." "See. master. I am hungry. I have eaten nothing since yesterday morning. Buy a rose radee Christa.” He Buys. And if the fat. pleasure-sated man in ■ the carriage shows little sign of yield- 1 ing to these entreaties, the tired painted woman by his side is more sympathetic i and compels her companion to open his purse. Besides she wants the flowers. They remind her of long-forgotten days and of th* many things that might have been. In this way does the little army exact its toll from the passing stream of car riages and cars Life is hard, and the bent, worn-out mother, who. as a "tender” in the cot ton mills, keeps the family alive on the princely wage of thirteen rubles a month, has need of all the copecks her fourteen-year-old son can collect. Rivalry is, therefore, keen in this children’s trade, but on the whole there I is no bullying, no Jealousy, no ill feel- I ing. Occasionally, however, in the race I for first place, "desire outruns perform ance," and the movement of the thin, bony legs is unable to keep pace with the eagerness of the mind. Motor cars are comparatively rare in Moscow, and the rose sellers have not yet learned to Judge their deceptive pace with the same nicety as their London prototypes. And so sometimes it happens that the bridge is a silent witness of a little tragedy. Suddenly there is a startled shout of warning from the driver. The car takes a wide swerve to the side. A piercing shriek rings out in the cold morning air A sickening thud follows. The car stops, while a policeman comes forward with his notebook. The little fellow is taken into the car and driven off to the nearest police station. In a few minutes the street resumes its normal appearance, and the ragged little sellers return to their "beat” on the bridge. They are sorry, of course, as far as it lies in their power to be sorry, but the battle for bread knows no respite and the world of pleasure must still be fed. ****** The Other Side. In a little by-street across the river, in the dirtiest part of the town, a frail, shrlveled-up little woman Is busily en gaged in cleaning out her room. She swears gently to herself every few min utes. The samovar, has been ready for over an hour and her brat of a boy has not yet come home. Most likely he has gone off with the other lads to play pitch and toss. She is still meditating on the punishment she will certainly mete Dut to him, when a knock at the door disturbs her, and the great, gruff voice of the door keeper rings out: “Maria Vasilyevna! Maria Vasilyevna! You are wanted at the police station at once." A policeman pushes his way into the room. Wonderingly she wraps a shawl about her head and totters out into the street. The neighbors gaze at her lazily, curiously, and exchange guesses as to the exact nature of the crime Maria Vasilyevna has committed. At the ouchastok she is ushered into the superintendent’s office. He haa a harsh voice, but he looks at her not unkindly. "See, little mother,” he says stam meringly, while he shuffles on the floor with his heavy topboots, “there has bsen an accident." She bows her head resignedly. "It i* my Pavel, is it not”” The officer nods assent. He takes her into another room and shows her the poor, emaciated body with the white, pinched face and the wide open, startled eyes. The little hand is clenched tight ly over a bun^h of faded roses, aja though the instinct of self-preservatldn. so keenly developed amongst the very poor had not left him even In death. "Is that your son?" he asks. Identified. The answering "Yes" is swallowed up in the muttering of a prayer. As gently as he can the officer lead* her back into his office. The law must be carried out, and the body haa to be Identified. He shows her where to nutke her mark in his book, for she can not write her name. For a moment she stands with clasped hands, her eye* fixed on the room which she has Just left. "May© I take the roses with mer she asks pleadingly. The reply is in the affirmative She goes back to the bare, cold mor tuary. A bunch of faded roses is lying beside the corpse. Greedily, cunningly, as though afraid that the officer might change his mind, and without a thought for the body beside her, she gathers up the precious bundle. She counts them over once, twice, lest there by any mis take. then, with a quiet good-bye, she takes her leave. Once in her own home she puts the flowers in water, but the faded petals refuse to resume their appearance of freshness. "The devil takes them,” she mutters disgustedly. "They are not worth ten copeck—not even on the Tverskala.” She takes a needle and pricks the long green stems In a last effort to re vive them, but the flowers are as dead as the child whom she has Just left. Snap- ** Shots Yet, though with a sense of grief Comes with the falling leaf, And memory makes the summer- doubly pleasant. In all my autumn dreams A future summer gleams, Passing the fairest glories of the present. —George Arnold. Let the sweet heavens endure, Nor close and darken above me Before I am quite, quite sure That there is one to love me; . • i *- Then let come what may To a life that has been so sad, I shall have niy day. —From "Maud.** When I sail to the Fortunate Islands Over the violet se'„. May one friend, my heart's friend. Be there, a-sail with me. On the breast of the deep, sweet waters, In the arms of the white spray. Sailing, sailing, sailing, Till we come to Haven Bay. In the peace of the Fortunate Islands, By wood, and hill and shore. May one friend, my soul’s friend. Abide with me evermore. —Louis McQuilland. The world wants men, large-hearted, manly men; Men who shall join the chorus and prolong The psalm of labor and the psalm oi love. —Selected. —LILIAN LAUFERTY. Nothing In It. “I regard conversation as a gift,” remarked the studious woman. “It usually Is.” replied Miss Cay enne. "If people had to pay for it there would be much less of it." INDIGESTION? Stop it quickly; Have your grocer send you one do*, bottles of SHIVA R GINGER ALE Drink with meals, and If not prompt ly relieved, get your money back 1 at our expense. , Wholesome. del! I clous, refreshing. ! Prepared with the celebrated Shi var Mineral Water and the purest flavoring materials. SHIVAR SPRING, Manufacturers SHELTON, S. C. C. L. ADAMS CO., Distributor*, Atlanta A Weak Stomach? COL Have you indigestion or dys pepsia, a torpid liver or any other of the many ills com ing from a weak stomach T EXCURSION TO EIR „ „ dr. piercers MINOHAM. Golden Medical Discovery $2.50 round trip, Septem p for forty years has done a ber22. Special train leaves I Old Depot 8:30 a. ra. SEA I or... . b...i. t™ BOARD. E Your Druecist today Agnes Scott College The Session Will Open Wednesday, September 17th, 10 o’Gock A. M. The Committee on Admission of Students will meet at the College Monday and Tuesday, 9 o’clock to 12:30, for classification of new students. All desiring to apply for admission to College urged to meet the Committee Monday or Tuesday. Dor mitories will not be open until Tuesday. L