Newspaper Page Text
©
©
4”
H oman Never Eats When She Has Anything Else 7o Do
■»
©
JT]^
The Lust of This Great Series
The Seven Mistakes
of Matrimony
—NO. 7—
BAY r Thrilling Story of Society Blackmailers
By DOROTHY DIX.
T HE seventh deadly mistake of
matrimony Is:
NOT TO MAKE MATRIMONY
A PROFESSION.
Perhaps the greatest mistake of
all. and the one that sums all the
others up. consists In regarding suc
cess In marriage as an accident in-
<,? *d of a premeditated re'sult.
The most mischievous idea that has
■■rr been promulgated Is that mar
riage is a lottery. In which everything
I, determined by blind chance, and
in which it Is a mere matter of luck
whether you get a desirable life part
ner or an undesirable one. or are
happy or miserable.
Nothing on earth is further from
, truth than this. Nowhere else
,]fu.fi the inevitable logic of cause and
ffrrt work out so relentlessly as in
.... domestic relationship. Nowhere
tise do we so absolutely reap as we
50w as in the family circle, and. given
.•tain people and certain conditions,
it is Just as demonstrable that a
narnage will work out Well, or badly
it is that two and two make four.
The trouble with us is that we have
over yet elevated matrimony to the
i gnity of a profession, for which we
have thought it worth while to pre
pare That is why we fail in the
most important thing in life. No
youhg man would expect to mr.ke a
howling success as a surgeon or a
lawyer if he had never even contem
plated seriously medicine or the law,
vet a poor deluded woman marries
him under the impression that she is
u tting a first-class husband, and he
himself has no doubt of his qualifica
tions on that score.
A young woman who wants to be
sn opera singer devotes years of
arduous labor to fitting herself to sing
on the stage, but she does not spend
an hour preparing herself to fill the
far more difficult and complicated
role of a wife and mother.
A WRONG ASSUMPTION.
People seem to think that a knowl
edge of how to be good husbands and
wives comes bv nature, as Dogberry
thought the knowledge of how to
read and write did. Roth assump
tions are equally false. It takes
effort and perspiration, as well as In
spiration, to succeed In any calling,
and especially the domestic calling.
Undoubtedly the matrimonial situa
tion would be enormously eased if
men and women would begin married
life by a thorough understanding of
just the elementary things. If every
woman knew how to keep house and
make a comfortable home when she
marries instead of having to learn
Imr trade oh her husband, and If
every man could be brought to real
ize before marriage just how much
money It costs to support a family, a
'•ung couple would start out with an
infinitely better chance for happiness
than they hare where the wife gets
hysterical over her inability to cook
a meal that isn’t a menace to life it
self, and where the husband is In a
perpetual grouch when it dawns on
him that matrimony is conducted on
a cash basis, instead of the hot air
currency of courtship.
The hope of the future is for In
telligent people to regard marriage
as a profession that is worthy of
profound study, and in which it is as
much a disgrace to fail as It is in the
practise of any other profession.
A SECRET.
It Is literally true that almost any
marriage could be made happy, or at
least endurable, if either husband or
wife would pursue the method that
be or she would in trying to attain
*uecess in any profession or business,
•ind all that would be necessary to
io this would be to use the same tac
tics that are used in the practise of
business or the professions.
Take the matter of the husband's
ind wife’s relationship. That is merely
. partnership, and all that any mar-
i ed couple need to achieve ideal
happiness is just to rise to the point
where they can treat «ach other as
two men in business together do.
Find a husband and wife who work
together with the same interest in
view, who are climbing up together,
who share equally in the profits of
their Joint labor, who talk things over
together and have an equal voice in
deciding things, yet who allow each
other in their individual capacity per
sonal liberty, and you have got a
husband and wife whose domestic
felicity Is strong enough to draw
money on at the bank.
Furthermore, a man who has any
intelligence tries to get along with
the people with whom he deals. If
he was always quarrelling with his
partner he would know that the
house was bound to oome to disaster.
He would be aware that if he did not
exercise tact .and diplomacy toward
his clients that it was a mere matter
of time until the sheriff sold him out.
Women know these things too. and
there is nobody who is # more long suf
fering. and patient, and filled with
forbearance than the business or
professional woman who has to ca
jole the men above her in order to
hold down her Job.
JUST SUPPOSE.
Suppose these men and women, who
are so plausible and suave in order
to succeed in their business should
apply an equal amount of diplomacy
at home; suppose these men and
women, who are so careful to side
step the little peculiarities of their
customers, would be as nimble in
sidestepping the little peculiarities of
their husbands and wives, wouldn’t
they make matrimony as great a suc
cess as they do law, or medicine, or
the grocery business?
Yea, verily. We quarrel with those
with whom we live because w'e do j
not think it worth while to keep the
peace. We say brutal things to them j
because there is no money in our
pocket for being polite We wound
them in their tender sensibilities be
cause they can t get away from us,
anyway. We make marriage a fail
ure because we are too ignorant and
laity and careless to make it a success.
And the shame is on our own heads.
It ought to be just as much a reflec
tion upon any man’s or woman s abil
ity to be a bankrupt in domestic hap
piness as a bankrupt in business. And
it will be when we take marriage out !
of the amateur class and put it in 1
the professional.
(From the play by George Scar
borough. now being presented at the
1 Thirty-ninth Street Theater, New York.
, Serial rights held and copyrighted by
International News Service.)
TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT.
H E started toward her he would
execute a flank maneuver and
drive the wounded creature Into
a corner
“Give it to me!” ordered Flagg.
Flagg, with mupder and lust fighting
f<>r place in his evil eyes.
The wounded animal—at bay—driven
to the wall fights hard.
“You’re choking me!” the girl man
aged jo articulate.
Tighter, tighter closed the fingers
"You’ll be unconscious soon," gloated
her captor, “and then I’ll have my way
and rny pay, my fine lady."
Frenzied, desperate, the girl reversed
the paper file and plunged the long*
sharp end Into Flagg’s breast. He stag
gered back—and in the suddenness of
her release Aline fell across the table.
'rir'Syj *•£
■ r mN: ;
THE FAMILY CUPBOARD
A Dramatic Story of High Society Life in Mew York
“I felt that
proud, you see,
ey here. Not
quite rny own.
The girl to*
-so I came. I am not
Ken. f have some mon-
much but it is quite—
I’ll leave it, Ken.’’
k a little roll of bills
ng pre-
ork, by
1913, by
ALLMKNT
Too Very Queer
People
At last Aline roused herself from her shrouding leth
argy. Fear impelled her. The instinct to escape claimed
her—and she turned to escape. Then as she faced the door
and safety—just as she stood i:n' ■ the full glare of the cen
ter chandelier and was face t.o lace (if she had lifted her tired
eyes) with" Flagg’s masterpiecce of art, the painting of Justice
—just then, there was a blinding flu.sh!
An irascible elderly gentleman or
dered a bottle of hock with his lunch.
’Ock, sir?” said the waiter. “Yes,
sir.”
Not ’ock,” said the customer;
hock—hie, hac, hoc. D’you under
stand ?“
The waiter disappeared, and some
twenty minutes elapsed, while the
elderly one sat nursing his wrath to
keep it warm. At last, catching the
p rrant waiter’s eye. he yelled, furi
ously:
Where’s that hock?”
’Ock, sir?” said the waiter, in a
grieved and surprised tone, “I thought
you declined it.”
* * *
"Doctor,” said the caller, “I’m a vic
tim of insomnia, (’an you cure me?”
T can,” replied the physician. "But
before I take the case I want to ask
y°u one question. Are you in busi-
fi p ss for yourself, or do you work for
ot hers?”
I'm employed as an assistant at a
grocery,” answered the patient.
Then you’ll have to pay in ad
vance,” said the doctor. "I'm not
doubting your honesty, but after I
g, r through with you the chances are
you will sleep so soundly you’ll lose
Your job. Then you can't pay me.”
• * *
Not long ago a North-county vicar
married an elderly couple at 11
° clock in the morning. At 8 in the
afternoon his duties took him to the
oMghhoring cemetery, where he met
! f * p ame couple seated loving on one
the benches.
You see. sir.” the husband ex
plained, “my wife is a real ’un for
pleasure. I wanted to goo back to me
"'ork this artemoon. but th' missus
* p d we’d better enjoy ourselves to th’
full and mak’ a day on’t.”
By BEATRICE FAIRFAX.
DEAR MISS FAIRFAX:
i haven't been married quite
a year, and my husbahd and 1 are
very much in love with each oth
er—but the worst of it is he just
wants me to be one of his family
—and not myself at all.
He has cousins and uncles and
j aunts, and he thinks it’s terrible.
and they all seem to think so.
too, If 1 want to go anyxvhere
f with people who are no relation
to any of us.
I think they’re queer about It—
but my husband says I’m the one
that’s queer. Is he or am I?
KINFOLKS.
v xr tell, the chances are, Kinfolks,
V/V/ that you’re both queer—most
people are when you come
right down to it.
But, from my point of view, your
husband is the queerest of the two.
Kinfolks are all very well in their
way, but what’s the use of limiting
your life to them—and to them alone?
Why not broaden out your circle
of friends and learn something differ
ent while you are about the business
of living?
1 know' some people—let’s call them
^rnith—well, the Smiths never talk
about a thing on earth but their “In
laws’’ and the queer things their “in
laws’’ are always doing, or saying, or
looking, or being, and the only queer
thing that I can see about most of
the "in-laws” is that they weren’t
born by the name of Bmith and
haven’t the Smith nose or the Smith
haven’t the Smith nose or the Smith
faculty of putting up jam, or the
Smith memory for figures-—that’s all.
Now, don’t you be like the Smiths,
little sister, and don’t you let your
husband be like them, either. Make
your own circle of friends—don’t say
mean things about your “in-law's”—•
don’t even think them—just be so
busy with your owui friends and 4 he
friends you hope to make for that nice
husband of yours that you haven’t
time to think very much about it one
way or the other. It is the woman’s
place to make the friends of the fami
ly—it is your business to have pleas
ant friends and acquaintances—if not
for your own sake, for your hu»*
band’s.
Choose them—ask them to your M*-
tle tlat—have some simple little re
freshment—a cup of really good cof
fee and some thin slices of bread and
butter are not to be sneered at, let
me tell you. Be friendly and unaf
fected and kind and you’ll soon have
so many friends that you won’t know
what to do.
Then hang on to them—for they’re
about all there is in the world that
makes life worth living.
Misunderstood.
It was at a country ball at which
the regular printed ball program, with
the dainty little pencil attached, was
being used for the first time. A young
fellow from the city, noting that a
stout and not very attractive young
woman was being a good deal of a
wall dower, took pity on her and said:
“Is your program full?”
“My what?”
“Your program."
After a moment's reflection she
said:
“La, no! I ain’t et but one dough
nut!” .
‘What the h i do you think I am?”
She thrust the infamous yet precious
pink paper into the bosom of her gown,
caught hack the clinging, impeding
soft draperies—and fled in w'ild effort
to escape her pitiless hunter—fled to
the great door—toward the outside
world—toward sanctuary and Home!
In His Hand.
She reached the threshold, her fingers
fumbled against the wood —touched the
knob—and Judson Flagg reached her In
an evil, spiderlike leap and caught her
white wrist in a quick, twisjing grasp
Innocence can not bear the physical
horror of the clammy touch of evil.
“Don’t put your hand on me!”
screamed Aline, shrill with horror and
degrading fear. That this creature of
slime and crime should touch her!
“I’ll put both hands on you—you vix
en! ’ cried the man. This was a game
fish, thought he—it struggled—well,
more jo>* w'hen he landed it in his arms
and at his feet.
He caught the girl in his arms. He
drew’ her roughly and violently into an
evH embrace and set his lips on hers
with the menace of his tainted life for
her sweet youth.
“That letter’ That—or my days by
the sea’" he said. “Give up—my girl—
I have you!’’
“I won’t! I won’t!" cried Aline
Her desperate resistance taxed his
wasted and disipated strength, he
dragged her from the door, over to his
heavy table, he forced her slender body
back against his edge Dully she felt
the bruising pain of the wood.
In the grim light of the room they
struggled, untaxed youth with clean
longings and aspirations against wary
age. with evil desire and overtaxed and
outworn energy.
To which the victor?, ami would vic
tory not mean defeat, too.
The girl was a creature at bay. Life,
honor, happiness, a chance for existence
were being hunted by a merciless crea
ture who would scarcely enjoy the fruit
of his victory. To Aline that fight was
fob more than life, to the man it was
less than duet, and there was a price
both must pay.
Aline freed her arm. She gTopod
wildly for a weapon She must have
aid. Her woman’s strength was going
She was fighting in a struggle for which
life had offered her no training Her
blindly, groping hand knocked papers
and books to the floor: wild disarray
claimed the desk and room. Flagg s
heel ground deep into one of the cap
tain’s roses.
Suddenly he pinioned her free arm
back of her. The pain was excruciating
—but she could bear it for her fingers
had closed on cold heavy metal -a great
iron bill--file. She shrieked hysterically,
and he loosed her arm to draw her
whole form closer -to kiss her again
“Let me go! Let mo go!"
She struck him on the shoulder with
the flat base of the bill-holder.
“Put that down! I’ll break your
arm!”
She gave a sob of pain and stuck at
his forehead. In a fury he laid his long
rapacious fingers on her white throat.
j ' And your d—n neck, too! hissed
Horror marked her face. What had
sho done?
She had been at bay—she had fought
—and now grim struggle was to be fol
lowed by grimmer quiet.
“Ah—ah—try,” gasped Flagg, “to
murder me!"
He staggered to his feel from the
chair into which he had fallen in utter
collapse.
“I didn’t want to hurt you!” breathed
Mire, Ih a whisper of horror.
WHAT, WilAT HAD SHE DONE?
she questioned her fast beating heart.
WHAT HAD SHE DONE?
“I didn’t want to hurt you!" she
moaned. Tall and slim and white, like
a withering lily, she stood by the mas
sive desk. Her brown gold hair had
fallen in disarray from its coronal on
her head. Her eyes were wide with
terror—her lips were bleached.
WHAT HAD SHE DONE?
“Tommy!” called Judson Flagg
He sank Into the chair again, his face
distorted with pain, his hand fumbling,
fifnibling to pull the long needlelike file
from his breast.
Paralyzed by fright and fascinated by
horror. Aline stood and watched him.
Strangely enough, he ha/1 become The
victim now
Suddenly there was a wrench, a spurt
cf blood, and Flagg pulled the needle
point from his breast. He staggered
toward the desk ahd Aline shrank
away at his approach. Flagg seized the
edge of the desk for support—and, too
late, the girl, who had moved away,
divined his purpose, for he caught her
emerald brooch in his left hand. Then,
still clutching the weapon of doom as
he had pulled it from his breast, he be
gan groping—groping
At last Aline roused herself from
her shrouding lethargy. Fear Impelled
her. The Instinct to escape claimed her
—and she turned to escape. Then as
she faced the door and safety—Just as
she stood under the full glare of the
center chandelier and was face to face
(if she had lifted her tired eyes) with
Flagg’s masterpiece of art, the paint
ing of Justice—Just then, there was a
blinding flash!
Flagg’s groping hand had found the
electric button!
He gasped for breath—and then, with
a final chuckle, Judson Flagg spoke his
epilogue to life.
“1 got your brooch—and T got yout
picture for the police!”
The noise of the explosion died—the
light faded again.
“Tommy!” screamed Judson Flagg
gurgling the death agony. But he
voiced his cry to the one human being
who loved him.
“Coming—Uncle Judson!" came a
far-off voice.
The girl fled back into the shrouding
night. She made her way to the home
she had loft that fear might be do
stroyed and. Instead, fear triumphed.
What had she done?
Across the table in a grim den of
gloom sprawled Judson Flagg—dark,
saturnine, like a giant spider, and in
his hand was the emerald brooch Gor
don Graham had given bis Wli< when
their baby girl was born. But arru-s
the table, a tins stream of blood wa
trickling toward the bills the $200 that
had been too small a price for honor
or life
Silence and darkness!
Then a boy’s anguished cry—“Uncle
Ju/d! Uncle Jud! Speak to me! Untie
Jtld! DEAD! MURDERED!”
The flash of light from every corner
of the gloomy chamber, the jar of an
opening window, a quick glance up and
down the empty st • et. and then a !><.'• s
tierr.Mtng voice stea II I < » a w..d
Poli i
r
The Secret Service.
In the office of the Chief of the M
cret Service of the United States thiee
men sat talking. They were. CapUiin
Larry Holbrook, Chief Dempsey id
Father Shannon.
“Larry,” said the chief, “you have
been arrested once b> this Govern
ment.” There whs a bit of quiet in
sinuation in his tone.
“Yes, Chief, once in cw Urbans
You arrested me for trying to g**t some
rifles over to General Garcia. But re
member this, six month later the Uni
ted States sent the whole arm over on
the same job. ’
“But the Government regarded y<m
an offender then." went on the insinu
ating voice.
“Not too much to make me a < • ;•-
tain In the Philippine constabulary a
year later. ’
“Why did you quit- your GOVERN
MENT job?” went on R roster.
“Boinethirtgr in tlie blond "
“Fever?’
“Born there 1 couldn’t ride herd on
a people fighting for their own libert;
You si p, Chief, if ' wei
er I’d been born in Ireland As it was
I was born on Second avenue Oppres
sion drove my father from home. I
think it was the stories 1 heard at rny
mother’s knee that made me ready to
take filibustering jaunts UNDER A
FLAG FOR FREEDOM. THAT MADE
ME A PERPETUAL MEMBER OF
THE MINORITY.”
“He Is that.” said Father Shannon,
warmly, “the rascal av.-l my life in
Manila I was In the minority and the
flames were a vast majority'’’
“What nonsense 1 made him got
out of bed when a house was on tire."
“He carried me unconscious be
gan Father Shannon.
“Some friend is apt to do ns much
for me any Saturday night," laughed
the merry Irish lad of T.
“Chief, lie touches no drop!” said
Fa titer Shannon, and a twinkle came to
the chief’s eye.
“Ifolhrook!’’ said he, "there’s a big
expedition on foot for Nicaragua
YYlmt can you tell me about it?" There
was a steady gleam in his eye—he
would not be denied.
“Dutch Dugan busv%gain!” exclaimed
the captain.
“That’s the man. but we can't get
our hands on him, captain."
“I’d tell you, Bob, If I knew, but ”
The two men eyed each other, and the
steady twinkle never faded from Larry
But tell your men to go easy with
Dugan. He's not a bad chap!”
The chief smiled, and h glim of steel
came into his eyes and over the settled
lines of his month.
in the further office a telephone
sounded its insistent call.
' E\< ime, gentlemen," said the
chief with g/ave courtesy.
Holbrook turned to the father. “Well
now. I’ll tell you something in confi-
dt n< ■ a a man to his priest, mind
ye, in th*- most sacred confidence. You
Rather Shanon smiled. "You know
well you can trust tne. Larry,”
“Well—then—I AM DUGAN'S expedi
tion!”
• You. nie lad?”
To Be Continued Monday.
denied
the far
that come
tions to th<
“Mary!”
The b< .
ders straightened
filled with purpos
tion he scarcely se
boyhood swc. ih «
friend of his whole
t “Mary!”
It was tft* If sun
>f springtime had <
to his garish gloo
soned rooms.
“Thank you, M.i
here,” said the h
that was brighten*
sunshine that he l<
wall he might ne <
roses in the gar*
Mary's life -well,
inhale the perfun
ute—and then go
But a love like M
and perhaps, pi
who kaows wh;
to Kenneth Nelso
The boy stood
aome wonderful v
bit—and softly and kir
tension.
“Ken, 1 read yout
mother.”
“Did you?” said th
1)1 at ease before this
the purity and' fine
had unconsciously b<
his life
"Did you—the last
.—it was funny was
“It was very sad.
broke her heart and
in a frightened lilt
tone.
“She did not even
the boy. "But you
thlsed* Mai
tenon with an abrupt
that a tender tone
his hungry heart tn
what right urn to* tn
gfrl like M.
“She cou
She ia ver> proud. Kent '
unhappy. She could nm
ey to spend on s<>m< thing
did not approve and you
written asking iter not lo
“My father has written
they are getting together
igal," exclaimed Kenneth.
“No!” said Marj. sadl
read that letter to her at
answer it And it only
help you under the --< irej?
Iff proud, too!"
And Mary, who had the i
is ashamed only <*f a wr
and an evil deed, sighed
of life that heM the peer
as if they Were lost in a
gle.
Kenneth s pride fiaiTd «
"1 won’t ask agaift!"
stubbornly.
from
*u1—
from her bag and dropped it on the
table.
"NO!” There was surprise mingled
with horror • »f what he had become In
bis tone. But Kenneth Nelson knew
that Mary Burk was offering him the
kindest, truest, friendship his life was
ever to know.
“Why not? We have ben friends al
ways You can pay me big interest.
It will be a good investment,” coaxed
the girl, trying to make her love offer
ing appear only a business transaction
"as man to man."
“NO!”
“How silly! I would not hesitate to
ask a favor of you! I I will never
! hesitate to come to you if I am in need
: of a true friend, Ken. Why, you are
1 more than that—you are. almost like my
; brother!”
When a woman waftts to serve the
man she loves with that peerless devo-
! tion that can come only once In a life
time with that love that most men.
j worthy or unworthy, miss—she will de
ny her love -she will call him "friend”
and “brother” so that he may the more
I willingly accept the sacrifice that puts
J his love beyond her claiming^ and gives
it to t he \\ oman he has chosen.
! The door to the side corridor opened.
With a little air of being perfectly at
| home, Kitty A^ty entered the room.
The Two Girls.
of Mary she affected pretty
she began—“Oh! I-
she
ously-
lad
no
He
it ion j
Iren with .(rusting eyes! This was Jtifct
□Isom
, Mary and Kitty! Just Mary and Kitty —
.*. m j but the good and the bad angels of his
• " life would war for him to-day. Mary
declared, !
j and Kitty! Which would win?
To Be Continued Monday.
CHICHESTER S PILLS
o«nrr Itnif of ,» ar V
PruiKpaL. A W for 4 |( 1 .<'If S-TF Vt’F
DIAMOND IlMAND IMI.I.ft, ft* t»
yctrt. known as best. 5af«t. Always Reliable
SOLD BY DRUGGISTS EVERVWHFR5
Every Woman
|s .interested and shonld
know about the wonderful
Marvel
Douche
Aslcyonrdrugg 1st for
It. If ha Cannot sup
ply the MAKVKL,
accept no other, but
send stamp for book.
tUrnel U, 44 E. 236 St.. N.T.
TKODAK
FOR
XMAS
15 to SM. Brewnle* |l to $12. Send for
*o mo lots catalog today. SPECIAL ENLARG
ING OFFER—6'/f xl'/j, mounted, from
Kodak negative, 30c.
An Opportunity
ToMakeMoney ^35^
iavenfort, men of idraa a*^ inventive abJity, ihool3 write to-
dey fr our Lot of Ntrmf!o»t netted, and prizes oflerod by Irsdhig
manufacturers
or c * r tee returned "WKy 3o«o tavontor
f ail. How to Get Your Patent and Yout Mossy. ’ ©the
valuable booklets ae»t freo to aaddress
Eta RANDOLPH & CO.
Potent Attorney*.
618 “F’ Street, N. W M
WABMIKWTON. I*. C.
HI
mm
jtsm......
- - unatteB aatevsiit,
Schedules Change
Dec. 7,1913
ON \ND AFTER SUNDAY, DECEMBER TTT7,
CENTRAL OF GEORGIA RAILWAY
TRAINS WILL LEAVE ATLANTA, FROM TERMINAL
STATION, AS FOLLOWS, EXCEPT AS NOTED:
No. 2, 8:00 a. m.—DAY EXPRESS, 1'or Macon, Savannah, Al
bany. Americus, J;v Cunvillc and intermediate points. Parlor Car
to Albany, Ga.
No. 08, 9:47 a. m DIXIE LIMITED, first train December 8,
for Macon, CortMe, Tifto** Waveross and Jacksonville. Observa
tion Library < nr. Pullman T -ping Cars, Dining Car and Coaches
to Jacksonville, Fla.
No. 10, 12:30p. m.—For Macon, Milledgeville, Millen, Valdosta,
Americus, Albany and intermediate points. Parlor Car to Macon,
Ga.
No. 12, 4:00 p. in.— For Griffin, Macon and intermediate points.
Parlor Car to Macon, Ob.
No. 94, 8:30 p. m.—DIXIE FLYER—For Macon, Cordole, Tif-
ton, Wayoross and Jacksonville. Observation Library Car, Pullman
Sleeping Cars and Coaches.
No. 4, 9:00 p. m.—NIGHT EXPRESS—For Macon and Savan
nah. Connects at Macon with G. S. & F. for Cordele, Tifton, Val
dosta and Palatka. - pirn: Car to Savannah, Ga., and Palatka,
Fla.
No. 32, 10:10 p. m. SOUTH ATLANTIC LIMITED- For Ma
con, Cordele, Tifton, Waveross and Jacksonville. Sleeping Cars
and Coaches to Jacksonville. Broiler Buffet Car serves breakfast
Tifton to Jacksonville.
No. 8, 11:40 p. m.—MIDNIGHT EXPRESS—For Macon,
Americus, Albany, TlioniasviUe, Dawson, Cuthbert, Eufaula and
Southwest Georgia and Fast Alabama points. Pullman Sleeper to
Thomasville, Central Sleeper to Montgomery.
NOTE.—All trains will arrive in Atlanta at Terminal Station,
as at present, except No. 15 from Macon, Southwest Georgia and
East Alabama points will arrive at 7 :55 p. m. instead of 8:10 p. ra.,
and No. 99, DIXIE LIMITED, from Jacksonville, Waycross, Tifton,
Cordele and Macon, will arrive ' first train December 9th) 8:03 p. m.
NOTE,—No. 4, NIGHT EXPRESS, for Macon and Savannah,
carrying Savannah and Palatka Sleepers, will leave at 9:00 p. m.
instead of 9:35 p m No. 98, DIXIE LIMITED, first traiu South,,
will leave Atlanta Monday, December 8t,h.
For additional ii ormation, ask the TICKET AGENT, comer|
Peachtree and Marietta streets, and at Terminal Station.
W. II. FOGG, District Passenger Agent, Atlanta, Ga.
CENTRAL OF GEORGIA
RAILWAY
At slaht
j confusion.
"Hello! |
J trailed off.
I Mary turned and looked at her. Then
! with a friendly little gesture she step-
! ped forward.
“This is Kitty?” she asked.
Kenneth hung his head in the most
! genuine shame he had ever felt, at the
thought of what he had done with his
' life for love—if love it could be called—
I of Kitty May.
“You’d better go." he said.
I “Why?” asked Mary genuinely.
Kitty braced herself against the table
| and spoke with a hard little show of
| bravado.
“Because all his fine friends are too
proud to know me.”
Mary smiled gently. Pnme of the
sweetness of that old-fashioned flower
I garden whs wafted to Kenneth’s imagi-
| nation again. The two girls faced each
other. The boyhood sweetheart—the
! girl he might have loved, except that
I tin* son of Mrs. Charles Nelson, leader
| of society, could not marry his mother’s
social secretary, was smiling tvith gen
tle kindness on Kitty Claire And the
girl whose evil spell, like a fog from the
.•<a, had hidden shoals and rocks from
the eyes of that same boy, was staring
hack at Mary with insolent hardness,
j Kenneth had a queer little vision of a
| thin alley cat, eyes aflame, back up,
I spitting and snarling and scratching ;it
th< little child who was stooping with
friendly hand to smooth ruffled fur. He
I dashed his hand across his eyes -what
;i fool he was, thought he—seeing gar-/
dqns and fogs and cats and smiling chil-