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Charity 1 hat Begins at Home Often Gets Cold Feet
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Ideality Secrets of Beautiful Women
Florence Moore Discusses the Wrinkle Problem
By MAUDE MILLER
hear ... much ahout
\X/ beauty and what constitute*
▼▼ It Whether the beautiful
Kiri is the girl with perfect features
or the Kiri who possesses a clean and
healthy mind But I maintain that
no girl, no matter how perfect «g to
facial characteristics, no matter how
pure as to mind and soul, can be
beautiful if ahe does not express
(trace of movement and freedom to
express this grace.
“Oh, I am heartily disgusted with
all the absurd freaks of fashion that
we call our beautiful women ” These
were the exact words of Miss Flor
ence Moore of the Winter Garden
Company when I asked her for her
Ideaa on beauty. "The extreme styles
that are being worn by the ultra-
faahlonable set of to-day ere spoil-
A1
n
BA N
/ A Thrilling Story of
[ Society Blackmailers
What Dame Fashion Is Offering
Attractive Styles Described by Olivette
fmf
Miss Florence Moore and Her Smile.
forevei^the grace which ought to
he second nature to every sensible
girl who expresses her IdeAS in her
movements with the freedom and
liberty of a young animal But still
this bugbear of society flourishes-*
the narrow skirt. Freedom has been
given to some extent in the slashing
of the skirt, in the introduction of
Invisible side pleating", in cunningly
devised draperies and other things
from the clever brain* of thos* who
would make us fashionable. But th#
narrow skirt la still with us.
"If we would have proper lines we
must have me narrow skirt, and the
narrower the akirt at the bottom, the
more truly chic and remarkable for
daring originality is our coaiuine.
’The narrow akirt has come to stay.'
We hear the words on all aides, but
let me tell you something elae that
is coming In the wake of the narrow*
skirt. Wrinkles How can a woman
maintain & happy expression when
■ he la forced to mince along Fifth
avenue in an expensive gown which
w’lll be irrevocably ruined if she hap
pens to take one step a little longer
than the ordinary artificial gait that
! she has been forced to adopt. And so
there is constant worry, constant
| 'ear of acqldents in which you would
he powerle**- to help yourself, a con
stant deepening if ever so little of
worry lines, which have come to stay,
and which are developing into genu
ine wrinkles Just as fast as they
can.
"And now. perhaps, you defenders
of the narrow akirt will say that if It
Is possible to make anythin*? habitual,
why not the narrow skirt? Why
should unnecessary energy be ex
pended and therefore lowered vitality
ensue? But the active girl is not
necessarily energetic, she is not work
ing off an attack of surplus nervw,
«he is simply naturally active and
needs unlimited apace to move about
in, Just as a flower needs the weeds
removed about it before It can grow
properly. Otherwise the sensitive
temperament of the growing girl will
And an outlet for Ita natural activity
in some other way, and that other
way always results In harm to ths
Individual.
"Grace means everything to those
who would attain beauty, and grace Is
a talent which is given to every on«
alike It remains with the individual
to develop that talent or to smother
It In the dreadful toil* of what fash
ion decrees It la time for every grlrl
to be awake &ml on her guard lest aha
be deprived of her liberty. Don’t for
get about the parable of the man with
the ten talents, girls, you have the
gift of grace within your grasp, you
ma> have poetry of motion for tha
asking.”
Seeking a Husband
By CONSTANCE CLARKE.
A traveling salesman died suddenly
and was taken to his home. His rela
tives telephoned to the nearest florist,
some miles distant, to make a wreath.
The ribbon should be extra wide, witn
the Inscription. "Rest in Peace,” on
both sides, and if there was room, "We
shall meet in Heaven"
The florist whs away, and his new
assistant handled the job. It was a
startling floral piece which turned up
at the funeral. The ribbon was extra
wide and bore the inscription, "Rest in
peace on both sides, and if there )s
room we shall meet in Heaven.”
• • •
"It's a great pity," said the convict
ed burglar to hig counsel, "that you
couldn’t have made that closing
speech of yours at the opeuing of ’he
case."
"I don’t see how that would have
improved matters,'’ said the advocate.
"It would, though," e xplained his
client. "Then the jury would have
been asleep when the evidence camo
ouand I’d have stood some chance.’*
« * •
A Massachusetts minister was
making his first visit to Kentucky
several years ago. He had to spend
the nlsht in a small town, where
feuds nnd moonshine stills abounded.
Engaging in conversation with one
of the natives, he said:
"My friend, this a very bibulous
State. I hear."
"Lor." replied the man. "there
hain’t 25 Bibles in all Kentucky.**
• • •
A teacher in a certain tow*n (we
considerately decline to be more spe
cific) had a great deal of trouble to j
make a hoy in his class understand a
point in his lesson. Finally, however,
he succeeded, and, drawing a long
breath, remarked:
If iu •• -./t D r me you would Lc
Qe giMLUfit donkey in this town.”
H, is that the way you make
them. Mary?"
"Sure an’ Miss Peggy, how
did you think you’d be makin’ them?’
"Oh, cut a hole out of the middle of
each round thing, nnd fill it up with
Jelly, and bake it."
Mary interrupted with a burst of
hilarious laughter, and as 1 patted and
pinched the crust for the tarts, l de
cided that it must be harder to be a
cook than a nurse
"You put the jelly in afterwards."
said Mary, as she shoved the pan into
the oven. \nd 1, full of pride that I
was doing my first bit of baking for
Dr. Hammond, who was coming down
to dinner settled back in the big kitchen
chair to wait for the tarts to bake.
Mary bustled around the kitchen in
the most businesslike way, and 1
sighed nnd looked reflectively out
through the glass door of the laundry.
It was raining, just the kind of a steady
rain that made me long for the cool
pink and white couch up in the den,
anti that book that had just come up
front the library. I tugged absently at
my apron, and then with my thoughts
still far away 1 woke to the fact piat
Mary was speaking to me.
"Bure an’ Miss Peggy, why don’t
you run upstairs and let me take care
of the tarts.* Who’s to know the dif
ference, child?"
But I said decidedly: "No. Mary, I
must do it my own self. Next time
I'll know just how it's all done, and
Dr Hammond just loves tarts."
The tinkle of the telephone, and I
flew upstairs.
"Heilo. yes, this is Miss Dean; O, Dr.
Hammond? Yes. I’m very busy. I'm
expecting company for dinner.”
"You're not coming? Why? O, of
course you can’t in a case like that.
Why do people have to go and get
hurt, anyway? Yes. of course. I un
derstand. don't you need me to help?
I wish 1 rould."
"Do really? Well that helps
some. Anyway, I needed you to help
me cheer up. It’s such a horrod day.
Oh. yes. and we're going to have tarts
for dinner. Yes. I know you’d be sorry.
Next time? Well, maybe. You see I’m
making them, and ’’
"Of course I can cook. Please don't
Jolly. Oh, no you w*on’t, you’ll be too
busy to miss even the tarts."
"The tarts, perhaps, not you”—the
words sang across the wire, and I sat
down on the stairs in the dark and re
flected. He really did w'ant to come.
And the thought that he would miss me
even In the rush of an accident case,
and the deepening of his voice when he
said those last words—my face burned,
and I put my fingers up over my eyes
and wondered what had come over me.
Just thn. I wanted to be a nures more
than anything else in the world, because
l wanted to be where he was. Then I
allowed myself to dwell upon the de
lights of being a hospital nurse. The
fascinating smell of the place, the rest-
lesness and rush of it all. And then as
it nil cattie back to me that aftrnoon
when 1 had first met him, the shine of
his haid under the electric light and the
funny little impulse 1 had to rumple it
up. I smiled and thought it a good
thing that men do not always know
what we women are thinking about.
PFggv dear, you are elarning. every day
you know a little more, and yet you’re
a little frightened you might as well
j fe.ss up. Things are so very, very
I strange, and you don’t know yourself
< as well as you thought you did. do you?’*
"Miss Peggy. Miss Peggy.” came
i Mary's stentorian tones from the kit-
I chen. "your tarts are hurtlin', sure, miss,
you'd better be tendin’ to them."
And I flew to the rscue. "It’s all
l right to be a nurse, Peggy," I scolded
i severely as 1 pulled ou* the smoking
pastry from the oven "but it strikes
me that you’d better learn to be a good
cook first." But I feltm whole lot bet
ter when Mary, laughing at my dis
mayed face, said goa-naturedly, "Sure
an'. Miss Peggy, you never know your
luck next time you'll b» havin’ better
luck with your tarts, too." Mary ia a
natural born philosopher.
CNovsIlaed by>
(From the nlay by George Scar
borough. now Wing presented at the
Thirty-ninth Street Theater, New York.
Serial rights held and copyrighted by
International News Service )
TO DAY’S INSTALLMENT.
A DINE was leaning for support
against the greht library table—
Insensate wood aided her to
stand, and the man who would willingly
have supported the woman he loved —
and so trusted -against all the world,
must stand aloof and wait his Lady's
pleasure.
•‘Won’t you lock that door?" aaked
the priest, breaking the throbbing al
ienee.
"It has a spring lock. Father.’*
Then he turned to the girl, who
drooped before him.
"Dear lady, you make me the proud
est man in all the world.
And so I^awrence Holbrook offered
this girl of a blasted life the finest de
votion in all the world—for if "perfect
love casteth out fear," is not the love
that still must trust because it never
sees the need of doubt, though doubt
lies all about—is not such love the most
perfect thing that can be given woman?
The Warning.
"Don’t waste a minute. Miss Graham
has serious news for you. Captain." said
the Father earnestly.
"THEY'RE COMING TO ARREST
YOU."
The girl tried to strengthen herself
to meet this new horror—the horror of
having the man who loved her arrested
in her stead
His reply was almost casual. "My
dear lady, Father Shannon will tell you
that an arrest to an Irishman reads as
a form of compliment."
Aline went on with grim purpose
nerving her.
"A MAN HAS BEEN KILLED TO
NIGHT CAPTAIN HOLBROOK!"
Could the girl find strength to say
more than this? Can a loving woman
say to man she must deny, "Your
goddess is no goddess after all—she is
a murderer?" If a woman must deny
herself the glory of a true man’s devo
tion, can she find the greatest courage
to shatter that devotion?
"I saw the body,” said the Captain
simply.
"Judson Flagg," shuddered Aline.
"The same.”
"Our door-bell rang—It startled me—
I was- I was up and awake—and—I
looked over the banisters—Chief Demp
ster to see iny father—in the hall he
spoke your name
The girl’s frail body swayed—her
strength was falling her purpose.
"Take it gently—and sit down, my
dear. Father, need she torture herself
more?”
"Hear her out, Captain,” replied the
Father In a firm tone.
"I went downstairs and listened at
the door as they talked In the library
the chief phoned police headquar
ters—the railway stations were to be
watched—you were to be arrested your
self Oh, Captain, a kind of panic
seized me all In a moment I was
dressed there was only one person
I could think of to help me out—to help
YOU—I went out of the back door—and
over to him.”
"To keep me from being arrested?”
asked the Captain tenderly. Why, she
had been thinking of him, even while
he had been working for her!
A Line Tells All.
" ’Twas her first and last thought.
Tell him all the story, daughter," said
the man of God, very gently.
"ALL?" quavered Aline.
The father nodded.
"Just as you told it to me."
Just a few hours before the girl had
laughed easily at her lover, "I have
told you that 1 do not love you! You're
a quaint soul. Captain.” In her hour
of tragedy she could not lie to her own
soul she did love this man—love him
with nil the forbidden glory of her
wounded heart, and her own deed had
made that love a thing to be denied—
and her crown of martyrdom was that
she must tell him all —all her sad story.
She looked at her captain with half
parted lips and all her soul yearning
to waft its message from her eyes.
And then she moaned at the hurt of
it all: "Oh, must I tell?”
"Not a word—unless you want to,”
expostulated the captain.
The Father spoke in encouragement:
"I know him, my dear! It’s best to
tell him."
Aline moistened her dry lips. When
the lips have a dreaded office of speech
to perform, blood of life and color flees
from them and the motive power for
all-revealing words threatens to fail.
She tried to control herself. "I ”
"My dear girl,” protested the captain.
How shall a man endure while the
woman he loves is made to torture
herself?
The girl sank into a chair and gazed
hopelessly into the future she had pre
pared for herself
Time and the tides of life seemed held
in the moment from the flood to ebb.
Aline prepared to see even the gift of
forbidden love go out from her life.
Perhaps it was only a second before
she spoke—but her soul grew to wom
anhood in that flash across the face
of eternity.
"I killed him,” breathed Aline Gra
ham.
For a moment she sank forward
against the table. Then she rose and
tottered to Father Shannon, and hold
ing out her hands to him stood with
bowed head waiting the verdict.
In haste—as if defending her from
her very priest. Larry Holbrook voiced
his ultimate faith and trust.
"She defended herself Why. Aline,
don’t let It drive the color from your
cheek ”
Amazed beyond all human believing.
Aline came back toward Holbrook and
gazed up at his strong, tender face.
"And they thrnk YOU did it!"
Larry waved it away as if this were
the merest trifle.
"Oh, no. they don't think that—but
they think—I KNOW.”
"And you did know.” The Father
spoke the words In slow wr>nr!»*r at the
beauty of soul he was seeing ever more
strongly revealed in the buoyant nature
of the lad—of almost forty—the lad he
loved!
Very tenderly the man spoke to the
girl: "YES—I KNEW!’*
Scorched by the sirocco winds of her
own shame, the girl blanched to even
greater weakness and pain.
"You—despise me " Her voice held
agony.
"I—LOVE YOU.” answered her
"knight without fear and without re
proach,” tenderly.
A glazed look of horrified recollection
came over the girl’s ey^s. She lived
her pitiful defense aloud.
“I never meant to kltl him. He
took hold of my arm a I got one
hand free and struck him My blow
had no effeot There waa something
In my hand—a paper file—like a big
hat pin—hie hand on my throat!
I struck aqalnl I couldn’t see
I don’t know what happened, but he
waa lying In a chair pulling the paper
file from hie breast.”
Her hands battled up to hide her hor
rified eyes from that vision of terror.
"Aline—Aline—you are torturing your
own heart,” cried Holbrook.
The girl turned to the priest for
strength. "Go on, my daughter," he
said with infinite tenderness in his tone.
“THEN ITE GOT UP—I LOOKED
BACK—HE HAD FALLEN ACROSS
HIS DESK—HE CALLED FOR HELP
—I DIDN’T KNOW I HAD HURT HIM
-BADLY—I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW
THAT—UNTIL T HEARD CHIEF
DEMPSTER PHONING FATHER ’*
"The Chief phoned first? Before he
came?” questioned Holbrook, ever alert*
for anything that might mean a chance
for Ihe girl so hopelessly enmeshed in
the spider’s web. The spider had been
destroyed—but the silken meshes of his
gray web remained.
For the Man She Loved.
The girl nodded drearily.
“That’s why I dressed. I thought thej
were coming to take me-I lived over
and over again the disgrace of it—if
there had been anything—to take—Td
have killed pnyself—too." I dressed, and
crept down again—and listened—at the
doors in my father’s house—and then I
heard—it was you in danger!"
"You said nothing at all to your fath
er?" asked the Captain. So much de
pended on this!
"No!”
“Poor child ” he said in pain at
thought of all she had endured—his ten
derly nurtured, tortured little lady!
"Then your words came into my
mind," went on Aline.
"What words, my dear?”
"Of Father Shannon—this afternoon:
’Tell him everything. All you’ve told
me and all you haven’t told—tell Fath
er Shannon.’ ”
" ’Twas the one thing to do.’’
The girl fled to the refuge of the
priest’s strong clasp.
"He will go through all of it with I
me—the jail-the trial—the disgrace.” |
And now her strength deserted her— j
like a reed in a bitter wind from the
north she swayed, racked by the chilj
blast of her own straining emotions.
A murder trial—a scandal in high
places—and she. Aline Graham, daugh
ter of the District Attorney of the
United States—a prisoner at the bar
her name her father’s clean
name dragged in the filthy mire of all
the basest human interpretations of her
bitter blundering and love forever
dead and cold to her outcast be
smirched human blood on her
hands Jezebel daughter of Cain
so ran her agonized thought.
The Captain's tone held all the quiet
certainty and soothing balm his strength
could Impart to words.
"There will be no disgrace. Cry it
all out on the Father’s breast and
do you think he’d be holding you so
tenderly if you were what you think—
instead of what we know*?” His voice
deepened to the tenderness he would |
have expressed a thousand-fold if he ;
could have held the sobbing girl in his j
own strong arms. "Aline—Aline, you're
breaking all our hearts by your cruelty
to your own self. Why. little lady ”
"But you must not be falsely accused
for my crime,” Cried the girl.
“There’s no crime about it,” declared
the Captain rashly.
“Tell us what’s to be done, Cap
tain,” said Father Shannon.
The soldier spoke with military brisk
ness. This case demanded more of
mind and less of heart if they who
loved her would find a way of escape
for the girl who was struggling In the
morass of danger.
“Did any one see you leave the
house?”
“No one,” answered Alln<\
“Go back and be quiet,” said the Cap
tain.
“To-night they’ll arrest you—and to
morrow they’ll come for me, too,” cried I
the girl.
"Perhaps they won’t," said the Cap
tain, casting about in his mind for a
way to make this possibility certain.
"Yes. There was a brooch—a clew for
them. I tried to get it, but he had it.”
"Your mother's brooch—the emer
ald?"
"Yes.” moaned the girl, sinking into
the chair at the head of the massive
walnut table.
Holbrook came and stood near her.
He wanted to touch her—to reassure
her—not with a man’s overwhelming
passion, but with the tenderness all
the world feels for a tired child who
faces pain and stern reality too great
for its untried strength. But he only
held out his hand with the pin in his
palm.
"I thought you’d want It," he said, in
a matter-of-fact tone.
Aline lokoed at this worker of mira
cles. "Oh, you wqnderful friend," she
said.
Then sha turned In bewilderment to
Father Smtnnon, with her mother's
jewel in her hand.
"Is it very wicked to think of escape
—to think of keeping silent?"
To Bo Continued To-morrow.
This evening
gown Is made
over a slip, cut on
the hips, of pis-
tache velveteen.
Over it are draped
two tunics. The
first is of beaded
tulle In green and
gold, and It 1*
veiled by the sec
ond tunic of black
taffeta. They .ire
finished at the
end In three
points that are
edged with Jet
beads. This tu
nic Is gathered
very full at the
walstlin-e, and is
trimmed in the
back with an Im
mense butterfly
bow of black net.
A small, simple
blouse of white
net with very
short sleeves is
worn over an in
sertion of beaded
tulle in green and
gold.
A large dark
red rose gives this
simple garment
vivid and effective
touch of color.
T HE disregard of all waistlines in
this afternoon frock, on the
right, is its greatest charm. It
Is made of rose-pink and vanilla sat
in. The bodice, of rose-funk mate
rial, is made with a bloused-bolero
effect, with a three-quarter sleeve
slightly draped and trimmed at the
elbow with a small buckle of vanilla satin.
A broad plait edges the decollete, which Is knotted
in the middle front by two small points. The crossed
yoke is of plain white net. A tunic of vanilla satin ia
slightly draped on the right side with three small
plaits. The skirt Is very plain, fashioned after the
rounded style. It is made of rose-colored silk muslin,
machine plaited, and finished at the hem with a nar
row silk fringe.— OLIVETTE.
Do You Know 7 hat.
The French pbllce have arrested xn
old thief, known as “Father Nod.”
who never entered a tobacconist’s
shop without taking at least twenty
c igars. He stple daily an average of
300 cigars of the best quality, and a
woman who worked with him put
thetn into boxes and sold them to
restaurant keepers at a greatly re
duced price.
In Berlin the firemen wear water
jackets with a double skin which
they are able to fill with water from
the hose, If the space between the
layers becomes overfilled, the water
escapes through a valve at the top of
the helmet and flows down over th«S
firemen like a cascade, protecting him
doubly.
James Smith Woodhouse, of BIrse,
Aberdeen, who is 85 years of age, is
still living in the same house In
whlc-h he was born, and sleeps on
the same oak bedstead on which ne
first saw the light. He is very ac
tive foT his age, and is a keen gar
dener.
One hundred and thirteen women
and three men were imprisoned dur
ing the year 1910 in England for of.
fenses in connection with the suffra^
gist agitation. The figures for 1912
were 238 women and tw r o men.
Upward of 650 tons of soot fall an
nually on each square mile of tho
city of London. That is to say. dur
ing one year 75,050 tons fall on the
117 square miles which form the ad
ministrative county.
A church organ has recently been
made in Belgium which Is composed
entirely of paper, the pipes being rolls
of cardboard. The sound is sweet
and powerful.
Human hair takes the fifth place in
China's list of exports, during the
year over $60,000 worth of hair hav
ing been distributed to countries all
over the world.
A mine, now* said to be exceedingly ;
rich, was sold by its native African |
owner for a pair of trousers and a
cricket cap.
No picture is hung on the walls of
the Louvre, in Paris, until ten years .
after the death of the artist.
Perhaps the most extraordinary,!^|
tooing idea ever carried out was tha:
of a coachman who, at the time of
the Dreyfus trial, had his body and
legs covered with no fewer than 120
illustrations of the case, including
portraits of the leading personages.
The work occupied nearly two years.
A meeting has just taken place at
Bucharest of a Congress of Unappre
ciated Inventors. A certain number
of mechanical geniuses, lacking the
funds to carry out their ideas, met to
discuss the means of remedying this
want. The members of the congress
included a chemist who knows how
to produce diamonds, a shoemaker
who can manufacturer boots in which
to walk comfortably on the surface of
the deepest waters, and a sign painter
who has discovered a color which
renders aeroplanes Invisible at a dis
tance of eighty meters from the
ground.
He Found Out.
"Do you think your father would
object to my seeking your hand?"
"Don’t know, I’m sure. If he’s any
thing like me he would.”
Don’t Put Off
seeking relief from the illnesses
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gans of digestion. Most serious-sick
nesses get their start in troubles of
the stomach, liver, bowels—troubles
quickly, safely, surely relieved by
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