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for/ •?». An Opportunity oney ilVCVtelt, a\t~n i *r ®wt lnrt «r r «n«n»**cnir*T*. Patents ml nr Ad !«:•?#»&*« dkiKty, shekel writ* I*- M5<J pun alDt-wi W> ictodtog <r»t M*m ’ oftd ««fc»! RA NDOLPH & GO r • ^OPHIfrk. "I” street. N. W " A'Ri^hto^, r* r You can make a satisfying luncheon o! Fawst Spaghetti alone—delicious, tan. As a side dish for the evening dinner it adds zest and savor. Faust Spaghetti it ver? nutritious—-it is rich in gluten, the food content that makes mus cle. hone and flesh. A lOc package of SPAGHETTI contains as tnuch nutrition as 4 lbs. of beef —ask your doctor. Comes in air-tight, mois tore-proof packages. Write tor free recipe book. At all Gm«r«'-6c m-nd 10c Pmckagt* MAULL BROS. St. Louis. Mo. Will Ty oWcr Means That Determination tc Stiend $5 for a Gift and Not Spend $10 Tabloid Tales AT. Mother Mine \% meant by ! becoming philosophical?" Jr mean*. Little One. the re- lion that we are Jogging along I comfortably and happll wlth- that to-day which y**t*rday we ■ convinced we could rot live Why Mother, do you th'.nk It I* r good thing for every man fo marry? i Fe^ause. Mv Chl'd moat men • •>uld a* ell up and Curat with con • *S? If they did no* marrv and have , s ime of the conceit , taker* out of I y. o. Mother, fa your ideal of a .lappy Man? The crazy man. Daughter, with the * ala taking caro of him. ai d unilm- ‘ M time to talk and handle big en- • rpriiea He in tlie happy man: it le hta sane kin who are the miser able OTIC* WUm-t. Mother, i* the 6iffeiei.ee ba te een a woman's conscience and a can’*? A woman’s conscience. Little One. hurt* her when «he tells a lie A matt’* hurts him When he had a .‘.anee t© tell a lie and didn't. invented the cooking stove. Mother Dear? A roan. My Child, and ever af:er that when he saw something good < ©tnlnfr out of the oven he eald to h’rree!f. "What a good cook T am'” Why, Mother. Is a man always a’.lari a woman’s protector" Vmr the reason. Little One, that .It ia Ida natural Inclination to protect her from other men Imposing on her. preferring to do all the Imposing himself. Waa ever r compliment entirely satisfactory, Lea rest Mother? Never never. Child, for if the word ing gave satisfaction there Is always the complaint that those who pay us • ompliments don’t tslk loud enough. The man who has mean things to aay • ’ways makes himself heard. What. Mother, is a genius? There are many kinds. .Little One. t» t lii one particular they are all alike A genius is one who makes '• uncomfortable for all around him » it true. Mother, as tue men - in. that the ink bottle at home in - ways empty and the pen never to >« found*" Not always. Child. When a men's tout streak Is in control.and lie wants • write something he shouldn't, the i.jv pot is never empty and the pen always lying beside it and in per- • PHAXC&H 1 i.ARStUP. T y it proper to wear a kimono t. . } breakfast in a boarding house What do you mean by "proper" j —what sort of a boarding house do you live in? ] have seen girls come down to breakfast in a mob cap and a bov doir jacket, and by the way the j crooked their little finger and bad such a time tipping their coffee, it *a* easy to see that they Imagined themselves the most charming and fascinating of creatures—but the, j weren't. They really were not—at all. U takes the prettiest woman In th* world to look pretty in a kimono — it Is almost as bad a? a bathing sui’ when it • ■©me* to showing up every ; defect that a girl ha« and ought uoi ! to have. Besides, it really ia a bit neglige# for a boarding-house table—ffon’t you j think so, Morerie? it la ail very well to read about the charmer* in aatin peignoir* aao dainty gold heeled slippers—that’s l; a. book where a girl can cry and loo* 1 pretty at the same time. ! Out of a book a peignoir or a 1.. mono, or a dressing jacket, are fit fo just exactly one place in the worlc, and that is in your own room. j NO ISK. You won’t fascinate the young boo» | keeper who sits opposite with that ■ kimono—you’ll juat make him wis j you would take time to dress yourse. I before you come to breakfast. Don’t make any mistake, my dea the one thing a man really admire* in a real girl is modesty—if he ever ^els It into his head that you are i lacking in that, nothing in the worlc | that you can do will make him really * respect you again. Get yourself » couple of neat pretty little house dresses. Ton cart find i them in the wash frock departmet of any of the big shops. THE M ASH DRESS. ami The Gold Witch finds an old harp—an instrument she loves. In the dimming twilight Tom the dusk. To Tom they are visions of a happy future; to his father bitter-sweet memories of the Ids father steal in to listen. As the exquisite notes throb out, shadowy pictures form in past—of his ward’s mother, whom he loved bnt did not marry. Blue and pink and lavender an< ‘ Powered—all colors, alt styles, ai. : prices—I have «een very neat, prett i little bine wash dresses for sale at a dollar and a half—get one of thos* ■ do your hair in a pretty simple knot ! and you 11 look as sweet ae a peep- ! ftnd feel sure that you are doing the j right thing at the same time. Hang the kimono up on the la* ; nail in your closet and never think o' J wearing it outside your own roo.\ That’s a nice, sweet, sensible, modes, girl. The Gold Witch The Adventures of \ o. 6—Dreams of the Past and future. - ; \ (iolden-Haired Heiress | j Copyright, 1*1 \ International New* Aax»‘.««. WearingKimono to Breakfast By BEATRICE FAIRFAX 1 r [J C FA 1 Ml fT V n r r P R n A PI n A Dramatic Story of High Society Life in New York J Li Ll c r/i Ll VI. ILi Ll U. fj D u A KJ u Adapted from the Big roadway Success by Owen Davis AT BAY A Thrilling Story o f Society Blackmailers [Novelized byl ‘ From Owen l>avie’ play now being pre sented at the Playhouse, New York, by Wtfciani .A. Brady Copyright, lfj.3, by Internationa! News Service ) TO-DAY'S INSTALLMENT "Twenty-live dollar*’ Why! You ain’t •< bad sort! Thank you.” He went «iowly toward the door, revolving the whole matter in hi* sodden old mind Suddenly he stopped, took off the old gray cap ho had donned preparatory to exit, and stood a moment twirling it In hie hand* —seeking for some ade quate expression of a strange gratitude tie f«Jt "gay!” he erfed a bit huskily, ut last. "You ain’t a bad sort—you sure ain’t! Go home, Kid!” "No! No!” cried tue tx» fn»ui behind ois barrier of tremb’ing hands "HOMfiT A SWELL PLACE. BOY! roiruu know pr vhkn ^ < *i get OLD UKi: ME. AND \1N’T GOT ONE!" .And so good-bye to Jim! And so good-bye to all the flotsam and jetsam of life—the men and women who, hav ing no ideal* have none to give their children—-who, making no home for their children in their youth, arc g.veu none by their children In old age. Kenneth sat alone, sunk in hi*- pos- vure of helples*. hopeless weakness and despair. The sunlight streamed in his window the golden sunlight of the high meridian—of noon and the high tide of [' life and day that foi'ows It i^r At last the boy raised his gra> young • . ftt e front his hands. He looked curi ously—inquiringly—at the surdighl. Hi* own life lay in gray shadow—in black despair—and regret--but the sun event on shining. Deserted! The dull curioail.t aou question re- qaim* :» moment longer on his face. Then he looked about liln* Deserted! How tawdry the room in which he sat how tawdry tlu» causes that Lad wrought hire, here His face hardened What was the use ><f thinking about it of it! * o-a i h the old quatra. * fror V * re of Omar tie Tent maker .-ytif .« urr-ful cadence '.firougi! hie brain, .ct was* the use? he thought ugaii v dc-foily oeLermitiatiqn » *utr over 1 ' yond And unless some one who loved him truly and wisely and well could banish that look—and banish that look SOON, Kitty May’s revenge on the house of Nelson must be so horrible that even she would look on it in sorrow and terror and remorse. At last the boy got up. *>n his face the deadly determination deepened so that the shadow of It must fall across the mind of whoever beheld him. But would any one come -in time? He crossed over into his unkempt bed room, anil came back at la«t with a writing case. Jle sat at the table and began a letter. Hi* pen trembled across ti>e juiper for a lew lines. He could not summon the strength or the co herent thought to go on. He crumpled the sheet and threw It on the floor The Mother's Appeal. He walked over to the window and looked down—eleven flights—there ws* sunshine down there on the cold white stone—he could almost see—a black thing ly»ng huddled there—a stream of red oezing. oozing—tl*e boy shuddered back from the window and his own hor rible vision as If seme power to impel him lay In the frame of the window. Not that way* He came back ami picked up the phone. "1171 Plaza." he said—the Alpine Apartments—hi* father. Hi* mind worked «*n remorselessly while the op erator was calling. "No! No! Wail! I don't want It— , it i^ a mistake -I don't want It!” lie put the phone down—atnl crossed | slowly toward the door at the other j side of the corridor ia> Kitty’s room— I perhaps that was the place—the place - ; for doing it! i There was u knock at the «.oor to- * ward which he was advan< ing with slow haunted footsteps, lie stopped with a j frightened gasp, and st«*od tense an*. ) quiet listening. The knock was repeated. He tnad* r o noise—tie scarcely dared breathe. 1 A lock of cunning crossed hi* fare. There was a si ie o<A»r he could go d»wt the bacu corridor and reach and reach i Kitty's j. on.. He would do it that way. on tiptoe, noiselessly he * r» pt toward the ! door, lie reached it. turned the handle, took one step out into the corridor. The other door opened—and his moth er ht’KMl just within his room. fc>he hes itated. frozen with a nameless toreljo*! j ing ae she saw him. The boy turned, looked at his moth er will a sort of wIkl shrewdness, and ofttne hack as if -nuttjir.g unusual i.a<. look like that" Where U—the woman?” “Gone! You--will—be—glad of that!” Something in h1s voice impelled her— frightened her—drew her! She came forward toward him—toward the way ward son for whom sweet Mary Burke had pleaded with the eloquence born of her love, addiug softness t.o her gentle voice. Emily Nelson wpoke tenderly now. "Ken’ Come, home! The boy’s voice seemed to coice back to her from far away. “HAVE YOU A HOME? I DON’T THINK SO! IF YOU’D EVER HAD A HOME—THINGS MIGHT HAVE BEEN DIFFERENT! I’M GOING NOW— GOODBYE.” “Going where “Cjuite a Journey, mother- -and 1 have a lot to do—so ” Emily Nelson came closer; that name- lehs terror waa clutching at her heart. She wondered if li were eometMng she could fight “I can’t let you go. 1 could not re main away any longer. 1 •earcety i needed Mary to tell me to come—to come at Alice. Kenneth. 1 am a foolish wom an. I know, but I need you. Mary and I will love you—love you like mother ami sister we’ll make a home lor you." “Mary—love me' I’m not fit! And I ke a ulster!’* 'Hie bo\ laughed as one who sees a vision of treasure he may never own— of ’the promised land he may never en ter ”1 need you, Ken! His Determination. ’Tin sorry—but I can’t help jou.* Sor ry—but 1 can’t! I must go. 1 must make *ur« that Kitty ha* n<»l left arty of try letters. She wa^-fw always careless and I don’t want anything more in t’oe papers to humiliate father ’after I have £•••'*» away. XlK HAS i HAD ENOUGH <>P HUMILIATION. I l !>’l *EUSTANI.> ALL oF THAT NOW!" H»- turned arui walked to warn] hi* bed room there was a sort cf strength in l'.i< weakness. There was implacable «>- j lerminaih in his step, j "1 brought you some money, dear." i v.-mured the mother .hopefully . i "Thank you. no. J Jiun* 1 all that I <luall reed,” *: swered Kenneil) quietly. I He spoke with a ak*w dignity. i’et*- I haps Kc -era tea. with Lis cup of beniiot k ' in his hand, looked like that. Perhaps We young martyrs tied iv th** arena wore such a look <*f far-away exuluvtion .he end could only mean peace ar.d terror seemed to fill tlie room with a chill rniat through which she could ju«i see 'her son—but through which the warmth of her love could not penetrate to reach him. He stood far aloof— wrapped in cold dignity . “Yes—l will come back for a moment. Then J must go." But would he come bacK—ever7 Emily Nelson walked over to the ta ble and looked about anxiously—there must be some clew—some alien presence in the room to make her fee! a* she did. Tlie Letter. Finally she *at in fie great chair drawn to the table—slie picked up Ken neth's pen idly enough. There was ink on it. It marked her white glove. Fresh ink! But no letter—no scrap of writ ing on the table! 8he looked around. On the floor Iny the crumpled letter. She stooped and picked it up Smooth ing it out. she read the few Hoes Ken neth had traced there. As she read her face balnched with fear—and horror She looked fearfully toward the inner room—Ken's bedroom. She heard noth ing. She could scarcely rise from her chair to walk toward the room. At last she trembled to her feet. Then she heard Ken moving about—heard a souno j of tearing paper. A moment's respite! He had said he would come back. She must keep him—from that long jour ney—that journey that knows no re turn—she must keep him somehow. She stood thinking—a mother’s love—was that strong enough? Strong! strong; A father's strength! For one second only she hesitated—then she seized the telephone. "Plaza 1171! Qu.ckij! wuickly. Her accents were agonized. Her voice was tense and low and as she waited her tortured nerves telegraphed for energy to her brain which was being drained by the steady demands on t for power to meet thi* torture. “Hello, Mr. Nelson Air. < iiarles Nel son' Oh. are y ou sure Whefe? Yes. i yes. thank you." She rang off then at once she called j again. “Hello! The Engineers' flub! I don't j know the number -hut it is*so Import- I ant. Thank you!" \ She put the phone down—then crept j across the room, with few am! treiu- | biing and horror marking every step | for ag-nized waiting and atood listen - j ing for sign* of life from her son’s j room. Then she went back to tlye phone- waiting in an agony of impatience, sinking weakly at Iasi into tlie chair a* , the faint ring she must muffle from Ken’s eat' came :•> her own strained • a earing. "The l.'Lg..: ecr* Oub' .Mr t.'!:arl*t* " him- ' i-' • J K -r: importance- 7 o Pe Continued Vc r n:*; . {Novelized by> (From the play by George Scar borough, row being presented at the Thirty-ninth Street Theater. New York. Serial right* held and copyrighted by International News Service.) TO-DAY S INSTALLMENT. “Yes—fine fellow, too. Mike—how long you been on the force?” % “About five years—guin’ on five." re plied Donnell precisely. “Like it?” “It’s a meal ticket, replied the po liceman. grinning confidentially. "Which i* the best on the average— the salary or the picking*7” asked Larry. Saved! Donnell grinned. “Pickings. What's that.’” >n a lone of great innocence. “A policeman who doesn’t know what ‘pickings' ie. Let me illustrate”—and the air suddenly had a large chunk of itself removed between a rapacious thumb and forefinger. “Have a cigar, Donnell." Slowly a scarlet banded perfecto was switched from a pocket and carried through the air to just where Donnell could get its full fine aroma. Then, as the Captain tried to hand his gift to the waiting recipient, his fingers became 1 very stiff and awkward and the cigar ■ slipped to the floor. Still clutching the j camera with his left hand Donnell j stooped after his "pickings"—and that i was Holorook’s moment. By the time Donnell had acquired his cigar, the tell tale plateholder had tone to join the booty in the pocket of the Captain’s dinner coat. As he * looped Donnell managed to articulate: "Ye*, but ye know thi* } ain’t New York." j And as he slipped the plate holder! j into hi* pocket Larry answered with j j knowledge: "Ye*—but a policeman | | a policeman the world over." "1 guess that ain’t no lie." replied j , Donnell. J Larry v*. < fairly bursting with ;ub - . hint friendliness now. j "You’re all right, Donnell—and if « j anything ever happens to you nere • j your foot slips -and you never can U.T ! when ii vyi-1 inayiw* i could help y« i get a start in the BIG town" QHIUHE37ER S P!LL$ , i *F. SB4MI G* 1 * *•"- < <•** r\ • \5p* *VOhfiiiisisr\TRuf«ir “Think you could, sir?” “Indeed—and I do.” And Larry *ajs ready to welcome back to the room even *uch once dangerous foes as the chief and the inspector. “Chief, 1 don’t suppose we can get back to the filibustering matter to- light?” be queried. “No—captain—this has put a crimp in it.” “Well, any time 1 can assist you ” said the victor with large generosity. “Net to-night. . “Sure*.’” “Oh, I guess we have th* matter fair ly well in hand,” answered Dempster. For one moment that gave Holbrook painvN But he thought of the pockets of his dinner jacket and the sleeve of his topcoat and took heart of grace. He looped his <*»at over hi* arm and set his gray fedora on his head after a comprehensive sweep and salute. “AYell—-if you’re sure there is nothing I can do—good night.” And he thought tlie battle won. But the battle had not yet begun. Over the table in his den sprawled the deai' spider—poisonous, dangerous even in death. And in a dainty bedroom not l’ar away a girl was staring out into the night with eye* that were learning to look on horror. The men Holbrook left behind him in the spider’s den went on with their grim business of tracking every possible clew that led to the destroyer of the poison creature before them. And the sprawling thing that had once been called by hi* fearful victims a danger ous and powerful man lay undisturbed across the table where he had fallen. In one dead hand he still clutched the file on which he had carefully pinned letter* that might wreck, for fair women a possession more precious tha^ ihe poisoned and venomous life thru had ittpt been taken from him. A no the rich trappings and comforts of the great aen were masterless until the law shouVi give them to the frightened boy to whom Flagg had left a dangerous heritage—the knowledge that human weakness may be preyed upon by that most despicable of all Jiuman weak nesses—greed. The sleuth hounds of the law went on with their work. “Have you looked over that safe?" said Inspector MacIntyre. "Not thoroughly—no,” answered the chief. Tummy volunteered a bit of infor mation now. “Oh, there’s a box there — that will help you, I am sure.” Now that Holbrook had gone the boy's at titude of reticence had changed. Wha; influence had this "world man” whom Aline loved and her father hated eve the boy Tommy? Was it the strengt of a man who had learned in far and strange lands to control weak nature- to his own uses—or was it some pow : et stronger than his very self working through Lawrence Holbrook for the pro tection of a cowering victim turned de strover when at bay? "What box?” asked the inspector. "A tin box, sir, with my uncle's m vate papers.” “What kind of papers?” “Why papers, sir—letters." To Be Continued Monday. GET A KODAK FOR XMAS I t5 ta s*s. fl'trniti Ji t« $(? Ur > .ei.;v!«<* «*!*»•« to-*tv. SeCCIAL f KLARA- iN8 ORFL*—S‘.*t AMMtotf. *n) neaattv* ATLANTA Every Woman I■ interrsfecl and shcwM i ~ow about tb« wo actor: Marvel Doucce > *or<5rer« »' !o r k lb# caaac* $ ,.r r’r I’*wc . p. rn vo o 1 | r