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# Don't Charge So Much to Father, He Will Be Sorry Santa Claus Didn't Bring Flim a New Wife * @ y y ~ /a\ im ^ /;/ the Web of a Woman's Smile or* right, HM3. loTernitiona: News Keme*. in’ NELL BRINKLEY Adapted from the B<g Broadway Succeaa j By Owen Davit. (Novelized by! I rnm Owen Davis’ play now i*einn pre- «en*od at the Playhouae, New York, by William A. Brady. Copyright, 1913, by International News Service ) TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT "She will be ail right She wouM he all right anywhere Mary Is strong and fine and clean Tha Nelsons never dhi anything for her She Is no waster she. knows how to stick. I wlah I could see her again before I go Rut I can't I've no right Kay good bye to Mary for me. mtoher " He turned toward the door “I kissed her that day. Perhraps I meant it. after all Tell her—tell her T'm glad I knew her and good-bye!" “Ken. Pear!" "No!” "KEN!” Her cry stopped him In it wan all of a mother's agonized love "One minute, Ken." He turned reluctantly "What is it?" "M.v business affairs They are In a dreadful state"' • "Pamton Is a good lawyer.” "Yes oh. ves hut after all "Surely, you don't want my advice! After the way I have muddled my own affairs'’'’ "Why not**" Emily Nelson stepped to her son s side. She must dare all now physical force, demonstration even. If need he. she must confess openly that she knew where he was going "You are my boy, my son s rnan now* A grown man Who should help me If not you. Ken? Come!" She threw her arms around him "All of us have made mistakes Ken. dear, all of u»! Mine has been the greatest—let’s forget them—All! l^et’s try again! We. all of us. have skeletons in our cupboards, dear. Rut as Sarah Harding says, we can. at least, shut the door on them left's do It and for get!" "I can’t, you sec.' said Ken. patiently He must explain He must ma'ke his mother understand t*he grim impossibil ity of doing what ahe asked ‘"I can’t forget! I have only |ust begun to re member—to think; as he said I should. I HAVE SO MUCH TO REMEMBER You can’t forget—that’s the worst of It! Not until you have paid!” "But don’t you see " "I don’t want you to thirtk 1 am rude, mother," said Kenneth, stepping away from her with a pitiful show of grave courtesy, "but I must go" "Walt!** implored Emily Nelson. "No!" "Kennefh!’' she caught at him. clutch ing wildly for the physical assurance of the mere feel of the texture of his rough tweed sleeve. "I can’t let you go. Ken’ One minute. Juat one Wild sobs were struggling in her throat. Her eyes burned. The contest was so pitifully uneven! She had only words—words—and agonized love that could make no Impression on this tor tured young mind to whom love was only a snare—a vision—a mirage—a Fata Morgana. "Why—one minute?” asked Ken with cold Impatience. She felt bow helpless she was to bridge the gulf between and reach her son. She could not penetrate the mist of suffering and touch his heart "I- I want to ask you something "Forgive me! I am sorry—and If if you ever see him father tell him The boy’s voice broke Here was an emotion at last ! "Yes?” cried the mother's heart ea gerly. "That I know 1 am not worth another chance! Just tell him that 1 love him — that’s all—just as I used to when I was little He will understand!" Would the father be In time** Could he save the boy. whose only living emo tion seemed to be love for his father” Emily Nelson’s tortured brain could only ponder— and pray. The mother frantic with fear ami hope— stispense and longing, seized the boy in her clasp at Inst With trem bling arms she enfolded him and held him close, close to her pulsing heart Xl^et me go, mother! I’lea-se! *N®t yet. dear boy Wall!” "1 must! Mother! 1 cant stand it. I must!" He struggled frantically against the pitiless, pitiful soft clasp of those en folding arms. Tighter, lighter. Emily Nelson drew her boy. Could she hold him? Or would he use his man’s strength and break from the soft fet ters? "Dear’ Dear boy! lam your mother —holding you my arms about you, just as they were when you were a baby." Her voice broke. "When he was a baby.” And the pitiful years between’ The burning tears would no longer be forbidden they flooded her eyes. •'My boy! My Ken! I am holding you safe. You can’t go’ I was a good mother then. 1 never let you get hurt. If all my strength could hold you. I guarded you, just as l am doing now." He stirred in her arms Her voice— love’* magnet ism had held hint for a moment, but he must go now! ■*. v Ken! No! No! You can’t go!" To Ba Continued To-morrow. Every Woman / Advice to the Lovelorn |V §43 •'--s ri) 5 Jj m By BEATRICE FAIRFAX. ) \ 1NJ. < V^X V L A**- r ACT AS IF YOU DIDN’T CARE TO. Dear Miss Fairfax: I am 20. and though I know several young men. have never met a young man who aeqms to care enough to propose to me. What shall I do in order to win someone? SORROWFUL. If you let the men know you are on husband hunt they will carefully avoid you. Be a little independent; And such happiness in the society of women the men will be interested in know ing what you are happy about. And don't worry* because no lover comes your way! He will bring sorrow as well as joy when he does come. • q o>. -m N ~r\ \ \ Y" , X o&'d/ V- \ NO SIGN HE DOESN’T. Dear Miss Fairfax: I have been keeping company for several months with a young man two years my senior, and love him dearly. One night last week when walking along the street I met him with a young girl to whom he introduced me as his friend. Do you think he cares for me? HEARTBROKEN. He is not engaged to you, and hi* appearance with another girl is noth ing to cause your heart to break. Have a little more pride, my dear. I^et him see you don’t care how many girls he goes with and he will think all the more of you. // PURELY FRIENDLY. Dear Miss Fairfax: I am very much in love with a young man five years my senior. He has gone away to college and writes to me twice a week. We are not engaged, but he tells me how much he cares for me in every letter. Now, I am unde cided how to answ r er his letters. A. C. Be friendly, keeping a careful guard on your pen. Write nothing you would be ashamed to see in print. If he still loves you when his school days are ended, there will be many opportunities for telling him that which it Is wiser never to write. x A -- T' MOST DECIDEDLY NOT. Dpar Miss Fairfax: I have been keeplns company with a young gentleman for the past year. He insulted me in company,* and we had a quarrel, and he has not apologized and said he wouldn’t. Should I make up with him or not? LOUISE. Do you want to be Insulted again? That is what a reconciliation will amount to. Have nothing more to do with him. 1 KNOW a girl with a smile. From her crisp metallic hair to the straps of her slippers the is what folks call “comely.” But it Isn't the erinltle In Iter hair, nor the white column of iter neck, nor any of these fortunate things small ears and a beautifully turned wrist and a head with real Ideas in it and a warm heart—that calls men to her like yellow jackets to a honey jar! “She has such blue eyes.” offered one chap. But there are miles of girls with blue-bluer eyes' "Her hair is so gold.” Hut the girls with “golder” hair who are prettier than she would make a glittering girdle around the world! Only one chap confesses: "1 don't know what It is. but WHATEVER IT IS. and whatever you are man, woniun or little kid you answer right up to It and bring your heart on a platter!” it's her smile! She Is one of those women with a SMILE. All tlie angels in Baradise get out ihtdr song-books ami begin when site does smile. The sullen little kid can't hold o it against it to save his slim little stem of a neck. The woman who is over-fond of masculine camaraderie and sniffs at the friendship of her own soft sex. who is tinctured with the bitterness of envy of all fair women, flops right over into the choir that sings her praises after ’bout half a dozen smiles. All childhood wreaths its arms ’round her waist and its heart about her image when she stops and smiles. But MAX—the grouchiest one of them all—glows like a kitten in the sunshine when her eves crinkle and the red of her mouth curls away from the snow of her teeth; the bashfuiest one spreads the gay wings of his fancy under the warmth of her laugh like a grateful butterfly under the sun; it’s her smile! It’s as real as the color on the cheek of a peach—tt’s as soft as a sigh—as luring as the last-plucked string of a harp—as tender as a California valley in blossom-time! Sometimes when I look straight into the amazing marvel of her soft, soft smile the world grows dim and fades, and before the dearness of her face a web grows —a golden rainbowed web—and it rays out from the smiie of her mouth in a thousand gossamer threads. And, caught by the wings and toes, and tummy and nose, are countless little pink LOVES— struggling and thrashing, caught coming for honey—blinded by tb6 great light of her smile—giddy with its beauty! Thin isn't like it. I must "scratch for a living" aeons longer to be able to put it on plain white Bristol-board. If it wan like it you'd be tangled up in this web also, my friend. How do you smile? Have you ever thought to look? Maybe you have a great one if you'd 1st it come oftener. Everybody can’t entangle the world with the smiles of tjieir mouth—but they draw closer all human kind—smiles do. —NELL BRINKLEY. Better Kept Quite. § © TTie Manicure Lady # © By WILLIAM F KIRK. “I I’SED to think that I knew about all the different types of men." said the Manicure Lady "1 don't think so no more. George. Honest to goodness, there is some new form of a nut comes In al most every day to have his nails did 1 guess there ain't no end to them Did you notice that fellow that Just went out ? He Is about as near a plain bug as was ever around with out no keeper lie told me that he wouldn’t never have his nails did only it soothed him when he got nervous. He said he got nervous every time he felt the longing for a spree stealing on him. and that when he felt as if he wanted to go out and mop up all the spare drinks in our beautiful city he always went instead and had his nails did If the old gent had his nails did every lime he wanted a drink, they would be all cut off long ago. and this young fel ls to tar* s tad and ehonld know About the wonderful Marvel ’ Douche Att mr 4mm* to ll : Hh*cinno laJy tt Ithe canno* fcarv the Hakve! h!:. .tamj-lorbooV “"Hi M. SL. L L low looked as if he could trot in father's class at that He ha*d one of them big necks and a kindly but de termined face, and any time you show me a man like that 1 will show you a sincere drinker. "If I was nervous I wouldn't want nobody fussing around m> nails, said the Head Barber. "That Is what I was thinking." said the Manicure Lady, "though 1 didn't have the heart to tell hint that, and besides l was afraid he would change his mind and do me out of a job. so I just went along and pinked up his little nails as if he was a lead ing man in a society stock company. It did seem to kind of soothe him. too. though he gave i kind <*f convulsive twitch when be heard a fellow in your chair saying that he had just drank two fizzes before breakfast. “He said bis little times usually cost him a lot of dough, and 1 guess he was right, because he had an awful roll with him when he paid me. and he gave me a dollar tip as though it was a nickel. Ain't it too bad, George, that the kind of men that drinks the most is usually fel lows that you would be real fond of if they didn't drink at all? "1 have known a lot «»f men that the drink habit got the best of. and. as I remember them, George, they w as all regular fellows N >w you take .t chap like my brother Wilfred. No body ever heard of a harmless little fellow like him getting stung by the high-proof stufT. because that kind of men seem* to slide along through life without doing nothing hard enough to hurt them." Most of the hard drinkers I know is men that would be big men in the world if they didn’t hit it up.” said the Head Barber, "and that's why I'm against whisky. It' it killed off a lot of warts and left the good fellows safe it would be a kind of a blessing in disguise, but it is just the other way, and I wish the stuff had never been invented.” "That is just what 1 was saying to father up to the house the other night,' said the Manicure Ixidy. "The old, gent agreed with me for polite ness. but it made him gulp kind of hard, and I know it cut him to the heart to say a unkind word about bourbon But it is a shame to see what it dors to a fine-looking, smart acting chap like that fellow that Just went out. It lias turned him into a nut. because nobod> except a nut would have his nails did iu soothe him You wait till us women has a vote, and you wjll see where the demon rum gets a awful kick in the shins. And that ain't the only grand work us women is going to do at the polls either And that time is com ing. too. George." Maybe. ' muI the Head Barber, but when that time comes you will be too old to vote and l will be too old to care." AT BAY A Thrilling Story of Society Blackmailers (Novelized by> (From the play by George Scar borough. now being presented at the Thirty-ninth Street Theater, New York. Serial rights held and copyrighted by International News Service.) The origin of the saying "as clean as a whistle" is ascribed to the ' whistle- tankard” of olden times in which the whistle came into play when the tan kard was emptied, or "cleared out." to announce to the waiter that more liquor w as required. the eker Perhaps the only word that :s the •bum in all languages la the 'HalloS** in response to the telephone call. Wherever there Is a telephone line the word is In use. and means just what It does in English. The butchers fo Berlin have a curi ous way -if informing their customers <»f the days on which fresh sausages are made, by placing a chair, covered w:th a large, clean apron, at the side of the shop door. A medical expert contends that out of 1.000 girls studying the piano before the age or twelve, about six hundred are afflicted with nervous troubles in later life. TODAY’S INSTALLMENT. ” 'Elio—is Docker Kll-yut? I s Cat tain 'Olbrook, boy! Yis. sir. (’attain '("*1 brook is very seeck. You pliss come quick Is life and dee-ath 1 don’t know. sir. Is very seeck! I ask him!'' He marched over to the door that the Captain had so emphatically closed against all comers. He sheered off a bit and then knock*d in a businesslike manner. "Don’t open that." commanded Captain In a roar of emphasis. No. sir please (.’attain -the d sa>s what is your seeck trubble." "Appendicitis " An inquiring silence on the part of Barnadlno- strange were the things he was hearing from behind that door "Appendicitis!" shouted the Captain with slow emphasis “Ben sldis?” ventured Barney timidly. "Yes—appendicitis," "Yis. sir." sighed Barnadino his net to question why and the malady that drove the Captain to making pictures at an hour when every good Christian, or heathen for that matter, should he abed, wore a strange title why. it was a strange skk-troublos too! Harney addressed the phone again. "’Elio! Is Docker EU-yut? Cattain says Is Ben-sidis yis. sir. Ben-sidis— his room, sir I don't know, sir- maybe one bah-tle Hypo ■-Etch-Y-P-AW That the sign on bah-tle. Yis, sir—Kighte- weh. Thank you. Docker Kll-yut "Cattain." he called past that im movable barrier of woi*d. "Docker h« say he come righteweh." "Good.” Barnadino waited for further orders. He gazed about the room with roving and furtive eye. Still no orders. “1 get tea pliss." he called. and marched out of the room. Thai roving and furtive eye was the heritage from a race that had developed that expression in looking behind each stone or twig for an ambuscade by an enemy that might rush out with the bolo or kriss and cut beyond recogni tion or hope of life. Because his an cestors for long ages had known the fear of poison-tipped arrows—and had narrowed their eyes that a modified share of light might enter and far horizons be clear. Barnadino must look like a sly and shifty creature to the peoples of our Occidental world—but Barnadino was the loyal slave of the man who had dressed him In white and brought him to a land where he found no stealthy assassins at work Barney did not know the high art of blackmail He guessed nothing of the civilized bolo and kriss that can cut a reputation to pieces with words the victim had forged into a weapon against himself And the ignorant Filipino boy could not dream that words may be poisoned arrows to torture a woman to death in the slo\wag»>ny that makes her a doomed creature. And, of course, he had never heard of a bill flic as a death-dealing weapon. So lie was very grateful, in deed. to the captain who had brought him to the land of free women and brave men. and Alines pin was quite safe from him as it lay in the pocket of Captain Holbrook’s dinner coat. The uoor opened and Captain Hoi brook entered, holding In his hand the plate that might send a woman to her death as it pictured how a man had gone to his doom. The great Chinese lamp on his table cast its glow on the glass plate. Fear grew to certainty in Holbrook's eyes. \nd would certainty erase forever the soft glow of love ‘ Can a man still love a woman when he knows the worst? And Larr> Holbrook was to leant all the worst—-here to-night "Ah there it Is . . ." he breathed In a quiet voice. “Poor little lady—there's the whole story. With that cursed villain leaning over her—and the file in her hand He looked about In slow pain. But action must be quick—for who could tell when interruption would come? That japanned box' He took it frotr Daysey Mayme and Her Folks By FRANCES L. OARSIDE. the table and crouching by the fender; tried vainly to open it with the poker. ! It resisted ... he went over to the I buffet and selected a steel knife. . j He pried it slowly under the edge of the I box and the lock yielded. . . . Then ' he came hack to the table and spread | the pitiful story of the box's contents before him. "letters! Honorable George Rowland' . House of Representa tives lady's hand. Blackmail — blackmail'. Oh—all the poor little la dies!" To Be Continued To-morrow. I T was just before Christmas, and the Children’s Congress had con vened in session’extraordinary. The little fat chubby delegates were In various and advanced stages of ante- Christmas dilapidation: their clothes were without buttons, there were holes In their stockings, and had any one been looking for a clean, germless spot to kiss he couldn't have found it in front of their ears. Mother as President Chauncey De« vere Appleton declared with the dignity of his 4even years, is too busy just before Christmas to think about such unreasonable subjects as wash rags or buttons. "I ha\. called you together." he thundered at his little unwashed au dience. "to ask for suggestions for helping Mother. In this annual season by trying to fool us. make Father mad. and give her friends just what they don't want Mother has so much to do I am quite sure if the Lord had been a woman He would have given her ten pairs of hands." Then, having rebuked the Lord, as Is customary with Great Thinkers, he sat (lown. “If fathers had to dress the dolls,” piped a little girl of 3. “the fig leaf fashion would see a glorious revival." President Appleton frowned. This spirit of sex antagonism always an noyed him. It was not germane to the subject, though he had found that every meeting called to help the wom en resulted In resolutions against the men. After much discussion, the following resolutions were adopted: To keep a school eraser handy. Moth er wants one for rubbing the price mark off what she has bought and the name [ of the dortor on last year's gift that she is passing on; Keep the scissors in sight. The pic ture of Mother going around with a big package in her arms, and gnawing the wrapping cord while looking for the scissors is not one to treasure in Mem ory Fond: Never ask her a question about San ta Claus when she is trying to make a piece of wrapping paper 8 inches square go around a 3 foot box. Never show her a hole in one’s stock ing. but become so imbued with the Christmas spirit that one cheerfully mends holes with the Christmas stick ers lying around. One sticker makes a fine patch for a hole, and six if applied with enough moisture will mend a 3-inch rent. Keep mother and father apart as much as possible these days. Mother is finding it hard enough to address forty postcards breathing peace and good will and get them off on time, without being asked if dinner is ready. And lastly: If mother returns from her Christ mas shopping looking as neat and pretty as when she left home it is safe to approach her. but if her hat is on one ear, her hair down, and her dress torn, the children should crawl under the lounge when they see her coming, and make room for father to crawl under there, too. Good At the Work. He—You know if women get the vote they would have to serve on Juries. She—Well, suppose we did. T gues3 it wouldn't take us as long to dis agree as some of the men. Lord Boots, who was famous for his long and flowing beard, was dis turbed one evening, when he thought all the servants were in bed, by shouts of laughter and much cheer ing. Summoning his valet, he de manded angrily what all the noise was about. "We were only having a. little game among ourselves, my lord,” the man answered, looking rather worried. "What was the game?” demanded the noble gentleman. “T should prefer not to say, my lord!” “Kindly answer my question, Wil son! I desire to know what could have caused ®n much coarse laugh ter.” “Well, my lord, if you insist. I have no choice. We had blindfolded the cook and were taking it in turns to kiss her and she had to guess who it was each time. The under-housemaid held up the mop to her face, and— this is what we were laughing at. my lord—cook called out, ‘Oh, how r dare you. your lordship!’” A WHOLE FAMILY MEAL FOR 5c. A 5e package of Faust Spa ghetti will make a whole meal for a family of five. And it will be a real meal—nutritious, tasty and satisfying. A 5c package of Faust Spa ghetti contains as much nutrition as 2 lbs. of beef. It is a glutinous food—gluten is the food content that makes bone, muscle and flesh. You have no idea how many different ways Faust Spaghetti can be served to make fine, tempting meals—write for free recipe hook. Sold in 5c and 10c packages—serve it often. MAULL BROS., fr St, Louis, Mo. 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