Newspaper Page Text
V,
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The Coiffure of Refinement
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Four Pretty Styles and as Many Pretty Girls
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Specially Pused for This Page by Members
o) “The Madcap Duchess” Company
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♦**o
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''TON of the 1 aTf■«: styles in eoif-
. .i;■(/<•]y tineH with rejoicing
o da.\ oi the grotesque hay-
of i’lt® i« passed, and that the
|'i , coiffure i* iioming hack into
Boeinning: with left t,o right, a ven effect-
ive and simple style of hair-dressing is shown
y Miss Ann Swinburne as Serapliina in the
itle role of “The Madcap DnenessThe ef
feet is that of a Psyche knot with the added
jfracefnlness achieved by a braid worn over
•he forehead with the *id* hair brought low
over the ears
The style adopted by Mis* Margaret An
drews is in direct contrast, with the effect al
most as simple. The hair is bunched at the
'•rown with the effect of a soft drooping pom
pa dour in front.
The style so well suited to the piquant face
of Miss Peggy Wood is simplicity itself. The
hair is parted in the middle, allowed to fall
-♦ <>+■
THE FAMILY CUPBOARD
A Dramatic Story of High Society Life in Ne%u York
fNovellzed by!
♦ <3 ♦-
♦“0-4
loosely over the ears, and ia gathered in a tow
knot at the back.
, Miss Glen Ellis has the perfectly rounder
bead that permits of the hair being drawn
into a low bunch at the hack, with a fluffy ef
fect in front redeeming it from the trying
severity this style would otherwise become
Meeting the Difficulty
A GOOD story is told of a worthy Quaker who lire.
in a country town. The man was rich »nr,
benevolent, aud bis means were put In frequar
requisition for purposes of local charity or usefulne*,
The townspeople wanted to rebuild their parish churci
and a committee was appointed to raise funds. It rai
agreed that, the Quaker could not be asked to subsorlb*
toward an object so contrary to his principles, but that
on the other hand, so true a friend to the town might
take it amiss if he was not at least consulted on a nat,
ter of such general interest. So one of their nmr.br
went and explained to him their project—the old chumb
was to be removed and such and such steps tafer
toward the construction of a new one
"Thee wa3t. right, seid the Quaker, “in supposing tha
mv principles would not allow rue to assist in building
a church. But didst thee not say something about put
ing down a church? Thee m ay at put my name dewv
for a hundred pounds to pull it down.”
severing of the question on which fate
wan balanced.
“You did not love her! Ken, It Is
THE MANICURE LADY
'NeveTlzed
m Owen Da via* play now being pre-
••»pu at the Playhouse, New York, by
'.Mum A. Brady. -Copyright, 19115, by
• : ationul News Service.)
VO DAY'S INSTALLMENT
ws« a pause. Emily Nelson
trembling with emotion such as
i forgotten to know through long
t.i. . yearn of life that had made
■i moment come relentlessly t her
gast. The instrument was held c'one
• > her ear—-as she waited for Charles
Nelson's voice—while her gaze never
left the room behind whose curtains
her eon and his was making prepara
tion for—hie—long journey. Could she
•are him—now at lust / Could anything
now be saved from the wreck of love
and honor—and zest to live?
At last a voice. His voice—her bus-
•and was there ut the ether end of the
title wire that might be the Instrument .
o' saving their boy.
“Hello! Charlie! It Is Emily! I am at
Kenneth's! He is In dreadful troublel
He I* polng to—Oh. I can't tell you,
Charlie. Come to me! Come to suve ,
himl How long?—Five minutes?—-I'll i
try and keep him! No morel No! No! j
l love you, Charlie! Come!"
She dropped the instrument .hat |
gTii >et be of aivatlon and fell Into■
' e chair sobbirg wildly—*her strength)
almost pent •
Kenneth came into the room—walking 1
iAS in » daze b e a sleep-walker He
field s ie letter* in hie hands—with the
most minute care ho was tearing these
nto small pieces. As ho heard his
mother nob he dropped the paper to the
floor <• whit* sLower—and went to her
side.
"Don' I)ond do that! ’ lie said in a
'one §n frosen by the horror of all he
• ad come to know of life that it eound-
ed remote—like a voice from another
plane
Emily Nels-on looked ip. Five min*
te»! Could she hold her son that long7
“What are you going to do, Ken*
eth"’
“Just going aw a ^ can’t stay here,
you know. 1 am not fit. I can't face it!
1 can’t face—life.” he mumbled almost
to himself. But her heart defined what
her ears could not hear
Emily Nelson rose and followed her
hoy toward the door.
"It Is my fault I van a baa mother!” '
"We did not understand—any of us." I
said Kenneth, in that quiet voice of j
doom.
"Dear, 1 have suffered! I think 1
understand now. s.xi.i - hi* mother,
nbt sorrow I see In your eyes—It is bit
terneas”'
"Perhaps. I don ? know." Th# boy
spoke in a sort of lethargy of indiffer
ence. TTe felt that nothing that had
passed mattered now all that counted
was what was coming. "What differ
ence does 1*. make? Are you coming ;
down? I can': wait."
He did not call her by the sacred j
name of mother—it was scarcely to his
mother he spoke--just to some one who
was, strangely enough, Showing interest
In him, now that it was too late, and
trying to change his plans—too late!
He turned courteouslj—but impatiently
—to the door.
An he started Emily Nelson put her
hand on hi* arm very gently—she
scarcely dared to caress him—he seemed
to lier like one In some strange trance—
r.he dared not waken him too abruptly—
le. t reason totter—lest he push her
roughly aside and go on with what he
had determined.
"Jujt a rnome . t. dejfr’ When did she
At last she reached her otyn room.
She tore from, her the polluted gar
ments that the master of pollution had
touched —the poisoned things she had
worn in the rooms of Evil. She flung
j them In a heap on the floor; they could
11 t:.*• play by George Scar- not be touched now; her maid would
borougn, now; being presented at the j hang them away. And In flinging aside
Thirty-ninth Street Theater, New York. I . , ,,, , . . . , ...
Serial rights held and •'opyrighted by babi iments of that dark night
International News Service.) Aline forged another link in the chain
Tv?c»ri! r , that must soon bind Ifer fast. At last
1 O - 0A^ S IhiS i. ALLM Jliui i. ! her soft white "robe de nuit” encased
The chief and the Inspector looked at | her cold form and she tumbled into the
each other Well, Flagg, invulnerable I sanctuary of her white bed. Dike a
gently.
Fighting the Moments.
.gain
-that
In the boy’s face was that grim sor
row that seemed to be bearing his soul
sway frotn life and light and any hu
man consciousffes*
what f
*
He Mid that I should see myself and her
as we really are—and—I do. It Isn’t
a pretty sigh;..*’
His eyes deepened—and then
i ■•• re came across them that film
faraway look.
"I want to get rid of It—mother, so-
I am going."
One step farther from her—one step
nearer the door—and after that—what?
"Walt!"
The mother came hastily between her
son and the door—that door she must
not let him pass. Could She hold him?
Could she hold him? Her agonized
brain kept reiterating that question
even while she was bending every en
ergy. every power, to the successful an-
CASTOR IA
For Infants and Children.
The Kind You Have Always Bought
“.lust now.”
“Why V"
"She was tired She couldn't
stick. That'a what the old man
said—poor old beggar—she couldn't
stick. Well . . I must go!"
Again lie started for fchat door of
st ange doom. Afcaln the frantic mother
seized upon any pretext to stop him
"Did -d'd she go alone””
"No.”
"With whom?"
“Please! f CAN'T LIVE IT OYER
AGAIN' 1 CAN’T LIVE IT A EE OVER
AGAIN! EFT ME GO!"
The mother heart knew that be could
not live It all over again—that with
that memory searing boyhood and hopo
and idealism from his nature he could
scarcely bear to live at all for these
few extra moments that she was trying
to hold him—to save his sanity—to Have
hie life itself! And yet she must an
swer him as If she knew nothing—sus
pected nothing of the wild storms that
were sweeping through his agonized
young-old mind. Elfe bad offered Ken
neth Nelson a rude awakening would
ho Indeed interpret his knowledge in
terms of dealt:
"Yes, dear, of course.’ said Emily,
soothingly.
He passed her on. on toward that
door. There seemed nothing to say—
nothing to do- -all had been tried In
vain. Would the mother give up hope,
and ceaiiMi lighting her battle against
the odds of u disordered brain'*
"Oh, Ken!”
He stopped.
"Yes.”’
"Mar: Bur: was—
"Mother, dear: I am—ver> tired —
and- and—I have a lot to do."
Emily strove for an easy tone. If
only flvme stra\ gleam of love for the
girl whose unselfish devotion for the
boy »'..•• had been coldly told was "too
good for her—was worlds above her”—
could brighten tho gray gloom of Ken’s
outlook on life and love and woman
Mary wa . as Emily Nelson had com4
well to know, the one rose in the tan
gled and weedy Nelson garden If only
she might yet be the "Hose of the
Woii< " for Ken! And Emily Nelson's
growth in w-‘manhood was measured by
her simple judgment that her penniless
social secretary’s love was the one
g earn of hopo in the life and for the
life of the wayward boy whom both
women loved.
Perhaps Mary's name would be the
talisman to save Ken!
“I am very tired—and I have a lot
to do*,” said Ken.
"Naturally—go dear—how silly for me
to keep you. Poor Mary’s troubles are
nothing to you."
There was deep subtlety in that!
“Mary's troubles!"
The boy came back to his mother’s
sice
“Y’o* But it doesn't matter. She
she »e g-dna to leave me. Since
to all state weapons that bad searched
for the vulnerable spot in the armor of
his evil deeds, had been reached by a
higher law. And tho dealer of justice
must be meted human justice now and
pay the penalty to human law—the pen
alty for spilling the blood of this base
brother.
“Inspector, I’d swear on a staclc of
Bibles that I saw a tin box sett In' right
a top of that there cabinet," said Don
nell, rubbing his eyes to make sure that
iome strange magic was not all that
kept him from seeing it now.
"Well, who moved it?" asked the in
spector sternly.
"I don’t know, sor.
"Who’s been !n the room sir.ee >ou
eaw the box?"
"Only ourselves, sor."
There was a moment’s pause. Then
the flinty smile played about the firm
mouth of Chief Dempster. There was
a trail plain for his ej'es to see. Only
lie could not see ,1ust. where it would
leau. and well for him, and fQr the
friendship he had ever had for the Dis
trict Attorney of the United States that
he could not see that the trail led to
the white-faced girl who was the daugh
ter of his friend.
"Only ourselves.” repeated the In
spector.
child that shuts out darkness, .she
pulled the covers over her eyes; warmth
and comfort must lie there. But warmth
and comfort lay nowhere. The girl lay
shivering in fear and horror of all she
had learned this night—and all she did
not guess. For the full terror of her
visit to her enemy Aline did not know;
she did not realize that Judson Flagg—
had died!
Suddenly she heard the jangle of the
door bell—loud talking—she must know
what it portended—she must have real
ity Instead of this numbing terror of
what might bo. She leaped from her
bed and crept to the top of the stairs.
Aline Graham had become an eaves
dropper in her father’s house! She
came on down the stairs and stood
trembling at the library door.
She listened—and new terror tore at
her face like a monster with evil claws.
Like a fugitive thing she crept back to
her room at last—and stealthily, lest
any might hear her, she began dressing
In street clothes. Then In the alnlstei
black of the midnight hour Aline Gra
ham again left the protection of her
father's house—and crept out Into the
streets.
The captain produced ( a queer little
wooden thing from his pocket and put it
on the table. Off came his dinner coat
and draped its well-cut blackness over
a chair; then the captain's hands slipped
through the unaccustomed opening in
hi« shirt sleeves, leaving the cuffs
standing away ffom his arms Just below
the elbows. He picked up the curious
thing that was a plate-holder and van
ished into an inner room. Barney looked
ufter Ms master speculatively, touched
the black box with a long, curious linger
—shook his head** and picking up the
topcoat and fedora marched into anoth
er room.
Had Larry Hoi brook forgotten the
emerald brooch that lay in telltale care
lessness In the pocket of that coat that
he had so idly hung over the back of
the chair?
For a moment there was stillness In
the deserted room. Then the captain's
voice called, "Barney! Barney!” No
answer. £5ack came Holbrook carrying
a red lamp unlighted and a pan for a
photographic plate.
The Missing Hypo.
"TEA!" Repeated Captain Holbrook
late of the U. F. A. and late and soon
of the w r orld. There was something in
this brief dialogue to suggest that tea
was not a beverage for the preparation
of which Bamadino had a vast num
ber of calls.
“Yis, sir,” said Barney in a chastened
tone.
The Captain took the plate and went
into the dark room that would soon
give him light that should be as sinister
and dark as the ruby-lit gloom In which
the mysteries of the camera come to
life. Barnadino went, back to his book
and the formula, "E-two L’s-I-O and
two teas!”
“3-8-1 Main."
The Captain came back to the door
way for a brief second.
"Tell him I’m near dead.'
The door slammed after him with a
tone of finality—and Barney was lefl
alone with the) room and its precious
contents.
"Yis, sir,” said Bamadino. in the
pause of waiting for the mysterious pro
ceedings that made that little black
thing at his ear talk to him.
in my
)ok was
chief Dempster put a grin period
A man's room will often tell what he
Is. Tn one of the side streets of Wash-
to the sentence. "And Holbrook.” said
he quietly.
But Holbrook was speeding through
the nlght--speeding on to his cham
bers speeding to the final revelation of
ington—in one of the luxurious a^art
ment buildings of Washington—where
secretaries of legation and young for
eign diplomats, where dilettanti at liv
ing. where Washington’s eligible bach
elors prove how homelike may be a
that tell-tale platehohler he had filched ‘ home even without woman’s magic
from the camera Donnell held In hands
that, should never have been trusted
with such valuable evidence.
A Night of Terroi\
The victims of the scourge Insom
nia call a night of sleeplessness a "white
night"—they dread even through* the
golden day the coming of the long
stretch of hours when all life sleeps
and they alone wake. A “white night”
measures horrors of twitching nerves
and unresting mind—of weariness and
despair too great for normal man,
wrapped in sweet slumbers, to meas
ure. But the terrors of such a night
are multiplied a thousand fold—are
raised to the power of desperate agony
when they come to a girl w hose past is
a degradation, whose present Is a liv-
touch* Lawrence Holbrook had h!s quar
ters.
To-night a white-clad, black-haired,
Oriental-eyed Filtpino boy stood with
Eastern stoicism and patience and
gazed out of a high studio window Into
the blackness of the midnight streets.
Master would come soon—and In the
meantime the "boy” would stand and
gaze into the same blackness that held
his Island jungles.
Back of him and his window lay a
huge living room wainscoted high in
panels of soft brown Circassian walnut.
Above the wood was a wall covering
of forest green burlap. Ag&Jnst this
background were hung half a dozen
time-mellowed and rare hunting prints.
Above tho fireplace was a fine moose
head, and on the breast of the mantel
lug horror of death Itself —and whose were shining barreled guns. Over door-
future is only a pitiless toll extorted ways and hung above the monster buf-
frem her own mistakes. j fet and wide book shelves were swords.
Like a mad thing Aline had gone j knives, A Manila kriss, some foils, a
through v'oo streets after that, scene ; travel-worn knapsack and wavj daggers
of strangling and clicking and strug- j of a rar- Spanish make. Sconces lit
ling—and striking—in the den of the *
spider. In fear she had left her own
home to enter tho web she had allowed
to be woven about her six years be
fore by the summer sea. But fear was
an upmeasured thing—fear was a weak
word to picture the tortured agony she
must endure as she fled back to what
could no more be a refuge for her—to
what whs called Home—Home whose
snored precincts she had dollied.
Aline rushed from the spider’s do
main—she ran from that writhing thing theories about Oriental slowness,
that had latel: been called a man— Home
lie dark wainscoting and shone on the
heads of elk and caribou and on hunt
ing horns from far German forests. A
“world-man” indeed was the dweller In
this great room.
Suddenly tne keen-eared Filipino boy
turned—arranged glasses and decanter
on the great tab’e in the center of the
room—drew the deep Russian chair
closer to the gleaming fire and stood at
attention at the open door with a quiet
dispatch that seemed to disprove all
"Barney!”
"Yes. sir," and the servitor with nar
row, twitching black eyes catpe at the*
call.
"There was a bottle of hypo in
cupboard. Where is it?” Holbrom
now quite intent on lighting the lamp.
"What, sir?"
"The stuff you’ve ?-»en me pour in this
pan."
“Bah-tle?" queried Barfaej, with
great precision.
"Yes."
"Don* know. Captain.
"You must find it, Barnej.
"Don* know!”
IIo started across the room, shaking
his head gravely and repeating his for
mula, "Don’ know ’
"It’s not there!” cried the captain in
exasperation—he must, have the means
of developing- this plate—he must know
—the worst—the very, very worst.
He spoke with slow patience. *
“Big bottle—aays H-Y-P-O on the
label—big Poland water bottle."
Barney bobbed his head vigorously ;
he went over and knelt at the buffet.
"Oh, yis sir—yis. sir."
The captain dropped the work of his
hands and straightened up to the oc
casion.
"My word—in the buffet!”
"These. Captain?’’
"That’s it . . . Barney, did you give
anyone a drink of it?”
“Not ylt, sir,” answered Barney re
spectfully.
"Well, wait till I tell you before you
do!”
"Yis, sir
The captain started back to his own
private sanctum to Immerse the plat©
that would tell all in its hypo bath.
"And, Barney—don't drink any of It
yourself."
"Yis. sir.”
The captain lingered at the door and
spoke with the 'grave emphasis he used
In training this ignorant “boy”—and
yet there was in eye and voice the
twinkle that had won him the friend
ship of women and savages.
To Be Continued To-morr*ow.
The Only Seat.
A famous pianist uaed to be greatly
bothered by requests for free seats at
his concerts.
On one occasion his sppeax-ancs had
been advertised for weeks, and on the
day of the concert every seat was
booked. Just before he was shout
to go on to the platform an excited
lady made her way to the artists'
room and begged for a ticket., saying
that all her efforts to buy one bad
proved futile.
“Madam,” answered th* musician,
“thsre Is but one seat left in th©
whole building. If, however, you
care to take It you are welcom© to
do so ”
"How can I thank you!" answered
she. "It makes no difference to me
where the seat in.”
“Then, madam,” said he, "come thi*
way!”
Leading h«r to the steps up to the
platform, he pointed to the seat, at
the piano. When he turned round
she had fled.
9y WILLIAM F. KIRK.
HOPE to goodness we don't
| never have a, real war with
them Mexican fellows.” said
Che Manicure Lady. “That Is about
all the talk I have heard up to the
house for the last week, and I am
getting- kind of scared and nervous
about 1L My father’s father fought i
In the Civil Rebellion, George, and ;
got one of his legs shot clean off at ’
the battle of Missionary Ridge. I,
used to see him hobbling around the
house when I was a little kid, and
I couldn't help thinking when I seen
his wooden leg that war was every
thing Mister Sherman said it was. I
suppose the scars of war Is honorable
•cars, George, but you got to admit
that there ain’t much class to on© of
them old fashioned wooden legs, big
in the calf and little In the ankul
and no instep on them.
“Every time the old gent get© a
little lit up he tells that he is of
fighting stock, and you would think
to hear him go on that his ancestors
had all went to West Point and
served Uncle Sam all over th© world.
His old man was the only one that
ever smelled gunpowder, and he didn’t
come out of It with no flying colors
except the wooden leg, as I was say
ing. I think he got that leg shot
off In the only battle he was ever in.
But the old gent is full of the war
fever now, and he has even got
brother Wilfred talking war and
strategy. Wilfred wouldn’t make
muoh of a boy in blue, with that
gentle, shrinking poet nature of his.
but he thinks that if war broke out
with Mexico he would be right down
there with bells on. I don’t believe
they would take him for a soldier at
all. on account of his lamps being
weak and his small size being against
him, but between him and the slj
gent all wa hear now Is war. wir,
war.
"It kind of grates on mother and
us girls, because we ain’t of a fight
ing nature, and the only fun me and
Mayme gets is kidding the life out (.
M ilfred when he tells how he would
charge the ramparts of the enemy .....
save the country's fl agr . We told hjm
last night that the only thing he
could charge was his board bill. „., B
Mayme fo und a war poem that he had
wrote and was going- to send to the
Washington Heights Flour and Feci
Courier. This is how it goes. George.
Don’t read it if It is long,” said
the Head Barber. “Me and the Mlssu?
had a few words before I left hone
this morning, and I don't feel none
like listening to poetry.”
‘It ain’t much, George. Lister
“Oh, Mexico, thou land of heat
And cactus thorns and creeping
things.
You most assuredly will be beet
If Uncle Sam on you bis soldier*
flings
I shall volunteer for U»« Stars aoe
Stripe*
And fight like * her* oar flog to
save,
And tf your navy with ours does riwk
You will surely go to a water*
grave.
And if J die on th© battlefield
The world will sey that I deoe
best,
And my greatness It will be revealed
When my hands are folded on nv
breast"
‘He ain’t giving himself aey ’he
worst of it in that poem," said
worst i*. in iiiw-i. poem, saw rnc
Head Barber. “It sounds kind of fool
ish to me.”
Internal Evidence.
His Turn.
Bear© the
SigMjturs ef I
I gave lip the house there
nothing for her to do—and she knows
I can’t afford to keep her. But it will
be hard for Mary to hunt ’’
she fled from insult and degrading in
nuendo—from that leering face and silky
voice that dared ask of her, nay. de
mand of her. ”a hundred day* strung
throughout the year.”
Now running like a hunted thing—
j like the hunted thing she must soon
become; now hiding in shadow at th#
terror of a crackling twig, now doub
ling on her tracks that the inevitable
pursuer might be thrown off the trail—
'•■!■>• reached ier own doorway at last.
With the easy grace that was his
Irish heritage—with the smiling at-
homeness with the world that had al
ways beer, his—up to the time of dan
ger—Captain Holbrook swung into his
own domain. The servitor he had
trained to wear livery instead of Fil
ipino skins and fiber took his hat and
coat with a military precision.
“Wait a minute. Barney. Ho’.l on. 1*
ye dor.’: mind, I vu go. something up
T# Vs C©ntinus4 Ts-msss**.
But there was one enem> she could I Si0Cve -
not *hake off - one danger she could not j u >'»v that loi.g black box of Jap-
i flee. That was herself—and her own anr ‘ wl metal from his sleeve. Barney
'black knowledge of Alins Graham, 'looked curiously at' the other slee\e.
A New Plan.
“That’ll send you back to Manila,
Barnadino—in a pine box. . . . Now
get Dr. Elliott on the phone and tell
him I'm 3ick—to come as fast os ever
he can ”
A new plan was hatching 1n the pro
lific brain of this soldier of fortune.
“Docker Ell-yut,” repeated Barna
dino gravely.
"Yes. His number's in the little book.
E-tw ? o L’s-I-O and tw-o teas!"
Barney’s nose was buried in the lit
tle book while yet he knew that precious
formula.
"Yis, sir.”
"And after that get me a pot of
tea.”
Barney dropped the book—and gaz^d
master in something akin to
Two motorists, having almost ruined
their tempers—and their tires—in a
vain attempt to find a hotel with a
vacant ed. were at last forced to
make the best of a small inn.
Even then they had to share a bed.
which was—and on this th© lsndiord
laid great stress—a feather bed
They turned in. and one of the patr
was soon fa*t aaleep; the other wai
not. He could not manage to dodge
the bumps and heard hour after hour
strike on the church clock until 8
a. m., when he also struck.
He did this by violently shaking his
snoring friend
"What’s the matter?” growled the
other. “It can t be time to gtt up
jar”
No, it isn’t," retorted his friend,
continuing te shake him, “but it’s my
turn to sleep on th© featk©ri’‘
At a certain college custom ordains
that at examination time each of the
candidates shall write the following
pledge at the bottom of his papers:
"I hereby declare, on my honor, that
I have neitTTer given nor received as
sistance during the examination.”
Now. recently. It so happened that a
young fellow, after handing in one of
the papers, suddenly remembered that
in his haste lie had omitted to write the
oath. On the following day, therefore,
he sought out one of the examiners and
told him that lie had forgotten to put
the required pledge on his paper.
The old man looked at him over the
top of his glasses and dryly remarked
“Quite unnecessary. Your paper In it
self is sufficient evidence J've lust
been correcting it.”
Lovers
CHICHESTER S PILLS
. TKWiMM, RRiSD .
will appreciate the In
viting fragrance and
exquisite flavor of
Maxwell Houw
Blend Tea
It meets every requ^
ment of quaUty and
purity.
./rrt'.O’ii'W.rEB'*
1‘ktNU flM.I, Int S(>
bnictet,
niAMONO
SOLD BY DRUGGISTS EVERYWHFP5
Ck©#k*Nea) C#H««
C(*np*» 7* Crr '
....*><>* *—• E*
tfyvudr ‘ *
A Friend of Quaker for Twentv-Two Years
vr,• r* i3 eo *i.. .....
at his
horror.
"TEA!"
We have moved to our new store.
97 Peachtree Street.
ATLANTA FLORAL CO,
Mr G. R. Howder, 63 years of age,
who lives at 110 Center street, this
city, lias been u friend of Quaker Ex
tract for twenty-two years. When he
first became acquainted with its won
derful virtues he had been ailing for
years from stomach troubles, and had
used quite a few of the many remedies
on the market at that time, but found
nothing to give real permanent relief
until he at last found the first pack
age of Quaker Herbs, put up at that
time in a dry form. He was cured by
a few weeks’ use of them, and since
then each year, usually at the spring
time, he gives himself and all th© fam
ily a course of the great medicine, and
if more healthy-looklng and vigorous-
feeling man at the age of 63 can be
found in xtkinta it will take more
than the normal eyes to find him. Mr.
Howder has raised two children on
' Quaker. ' and they have never had
the puny. pale, sallow complexions of
the average child, nor have they suf
fered from the many ills that’beset
the (frowinK child, more especially the
hundreds of worms and other intesti
nal parasites that Infest the human
system of those who do not properlv
cleanse the digestive tract each year
When Mr. Howder first began to use'
the Quaker medicine himself he weigh
ed Just exactly 130 pounds Now he
tips the beam at 198. and it's all good,
healthy muscle and sinew and steady
nerves, not a lot of bloat. This gen
tleman called at Courser Muon's
store and, after talking to the
Quakers a while took three more bot-
S u ? ker fcxtra, 't, which he In
tended giving to a friend who Is be
ginning to manifest some of the simp-
toms of pellagra. He knew that the
same remedy ban already cured a case
Mariciia. and 1« doing yeoman mer-
vk-(? in *ux or seven other ca - right
1U Ailunta Now. those of you who
iV e ta Ji Unod t0 d <>ubt that the Quaker
Remedies are permanent in their cura-
Vj iue ' °r wh ? think that when
once the remedies have made a friend
they are easily shaken off, Just tak*
a walk over to Mr. Howder’s residence
on Center street and ask him person
ally what he knows of the Quakers
medicines He'll be only too glad to
explain why he has used them for jo
many years, when there are over -w
other remedies that are sold on tn©
druggists’ shelves to-day. And re
member, too, that If you suffer from
any possible branch or stomach,
kidney or blood troubles, or yon ano
your little ones have worms of •»'
kind, here Is a cure, one that has cre
ated over 300 permanent cures flff *
here in your own city, right on jour
very threshold so to speak, Wher©
you have the privilege to lnvestlg***
them at your will.
Thrift wonderful remedies—
E':t.-a« i, 6 for So.00, 3 for S2.60 or fl.0*
a. Lottl**.: Mi: of Balm. 2oc. or 5 f<F
‘ " la- Mbtalned at Course?' f
Munn’s Drug Store, •'$ Marietta etreaV
v .. xpresh chargee on all
ders of $3.00 or over.