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Charity That Begins at Home Often Gets Cold Feet
Beauty Secrets of Beautiful Women
Florence Moore Discusses the Wrinkle Problem
A1
n
BA"1
/ A Thrilling Story of
. Society Blackmailers
By MAUDE MILLER.
rFJ hear #«> much about
beauty ar<1 what constitutes
It. Whether the beautiful
girl Is the girl with perfect features
r»r the girl who possesses a clean and
healthy^mlnd. But I maintain that
no girl, no matter how perfect as to
facial characteristics, no matter how
pure as to mind and soul, can be
beaut'ful If she does not express
grace of movement and freedom to
• xpreas this grace.
"Oh, I am heartily dlaguated with
ali 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
Ideas on beauty. "The extreme style*
that are being worn by the ultra-
fashlonabl# set of to-day are spoil-
(Novtl'xed
7j
Miss Florence Moore and Her Smile.
forever the grace which ought to
be 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 pleatlngs, in cunningly
‘devised draperies and other things
from the clever brains of those who
would make ua fashionable. But the
narrow skirt Is still with us
"If we would have proper lines we
must have tne narrow skirt, and the
narrower the skirt at the bottom, the
more truly chic and remarkable for
daring originality Is our ooeiuine
The narrow' skirt has come to Btay.’
We hear the words on all sides, but
let me tell you something else that 1
is coming In the w-ake of the narrow I
skirt. Wrinkles How* can a woman
maintain a happy expression when
I !• forced to mince along Fifth
avenue In an expensive gown which
will be Irrevocably ruined If she hap
pens to take one step a little longer
than the ordinary artificial gait that
; has been forced to adopt. And so
| there Is constant worry, constant
fear of accidents in which you would
be powerless 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 ektrt will say that If It
Is possible to make anything 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 energetdc, she is not work
ing off an attack of surplus nerves,
she (s simply naturally active and
needs unlimited space 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
find an outlet for Its natural activity
in some other way, and that other
way always results in harm to the
Individual.
"Grace means everything to those
who would attain beauty, and grace Is
a talent which is given to every one
alike It remains with the individual
to develop that talent or to smother
It in the dreadful tolls of what fash
ion decrees It Is time for every girl
to be awake and on her guard lest she
be deprived ef 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
may ha\e puotry of motion for the
asking."
Up-to-Date Jokes
Seeking a Husband
By CONSTANCE CLARKE.
A traveling salesman died suddenly
• nd was taken to his home His rela
tives telephoned to the nearest florist,
gome miles distant, to make a wreath.
The ribbon should be extra wide, witn
the inscription. "Rest in Peace," *>n
both sides, and if there was room. "We
shall meet fn Heaven."
The florist was away, and his n*w
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, “Heat in
peace on both sides, and if there is
room we shall meet in Heaven.”
• # •
"It’s a great pity,” said the convict
ed burglar to his counsel, "that you
couldn't have made that do* -i*
speech of yours at the opening of ’he
e.'
"I don't see how that would have
lmprove.1 matters. >.tid the advent*-.
"It would, though.” e xplained his
client. "Then th« jur> would have
been asleep when the evidence came
on and I'd have stood some chance."
• • •
A Massachusetts minister was
making his first visit to Kentucky
several years ago. He had to spend
the night in a small town, where
feuf^s and 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
haln’t 25 Bibles in all Kentucky."
• • •
A teacher in a certain town (we
considerately decline to be more spe
cific) had a great deal of trouble to
ke a boy in his class understand a
nt in his lesson. Finally, however, j
succeeded, and, drawing a long
ath, remarked:
T f wasn’t for me you would fcel
£4test donkey in this town ” 1
|^/ \ H. that th
§ 1 them. Mary
bure an’ Miss Peggy, how
did you think you’d be inakln' them?'
"Oh, cut a hole out of the middle of
each round thing, and fill It up with
jelly, and bake it.”
Mary Interrupted with a burst of
hilarious laughter, and as l patted and
pinched the crust for the tarts, I de
ckled thgt 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. And I. full of pride that 1
was doing my first bit of baking for
Hr. 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 I
sighed and looked reflectively out
through the glass door of the laundry.
It was raining. Just the kind of a steady
rain that made mo long for the cool
pink and white couch up In the den.
and that book that had just come up
from the library. I tugged absently at
my apron, and then with my thoughts
still far away I woke to the fact that
Xlary was speaking to me
"Sure an’ Miss Peggy, why don't
you run upstairs and let me take care
of the tarts? Who's to know the dif
ference, phild?"
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.
"Hc.lo. yes. this is Miss Dean; O, Dr.
Hammond? Yes. I’m very busy. Ini
expecting company f<«r 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. anywu \ ” Yes, of course. I un
derstand: don’t you need me to help?
I w s h
"Do Kou reall> ’ Well that helps
some. Anyway, 1 needed you to help
tne cheer up. It’s such a horrod day.
Oh. ves 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 l can cook. Please don’t
Jolly Oh. no you won’t, you’ll be too
busy to miss even the tarts "
"The tarts, perhaps, not you" the
words sang across the wire, and 1 sat
down on the atalrs in the dark and re
flected He really did want 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 Angers up over my eyes
anil wondered what had come over me.
Just thn. 1 wanted to be a nures more
than anything else In the world, because
I wanted to be where he was. Then I
allowed myself to dwell upon th.*. 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 all came hack to me that aftrnoon
when l had first met him. the whine of
his liaid under the electric light and the
funny little Impulse I had to rumple It
up. 1 smiled and thought it a good
thing that men do not always know
what we women are thinking about.
Peggy dear, you are darning, every day
you know a llttb* more, and yet you're
a little frightened you might as well
fees up Things are so very, very
strang.', ami you don’t know yourself
as well as you thought you did. do you?"
"Mias Peggy. Miss Peggy.” came
Mary s stentorian tones from the kit
chen. your tarts are buntin’, sure miss,
you'd better be tendin' to them."
And I flew to the rseue "It's all
rig! t to be a nurse. Peggy." I scolded
severeb as I pulled otn the smoking
pastry from the oven, "but if strikes
me that you’d better learn to be a good
cook first.” But 1 felt a whole lot bet
ter when Mary, laughing at my dis
mayed face sai^ gon-naturedly. "Sure
an . Miss Peggy, you never know vour
luck next time -you’ll be havin’ better
luck w > our tarts ton." Mary is a
natural born philosopher.
(From the play by George Scar
borough, now being presented at the
Thirty-ninth Htreet Theater. New York.
Ferial rights held and copyrighted by
International New* Service.)
TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT.
A LINE was leardng fpr support
against the grc<it 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?" asked
the priest, breaking the throbbing si
lence.
"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 Lawrence 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," sa’tj
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 HAH BEEN KILLED TO
NIGHT. CAPTAIN HOLBROOK!”
Could the girl find strength to say
more than tills? Can a loving woman
say to ^ i 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 my father—In the hall he
spoke your name ”
The girl’s frail body .swayed—her
strength was failing her purpose.
"Take It gently and alt down, my
dear. Father, need she torture herself
more?” f
"Hear her out. Captain," replied the
Father In a firm tone.
"I went downstair* 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
lie had been working for her!
A Line Tells All.
" 'Twas her first and last thought.
Tell him all the story, daughter,” said
tht4 man of God, very gently.
"AliL?" 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, "1 have
told you that I 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
vsith all 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:
"l know him, my dear! It’s best to
tell him.’’
Aline moistened her dry Ups. 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 fall.
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. Altne.
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 think 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 wonder 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 hy the sirocco winds of her
own shame, the girl blanched to even
greater weakness and pain.
"You—despise rae " Her voice held
agony.
"I—LOVE YOU," answered her
"knight without fear and without re-
prbach," tenderly.
A glazed look of horrified recollection
came over the girl’s eyes. She lived
her pitiful defense aloud.
"I never meant to kill him He
took hold of my arms I got one
hand free and struck him My blow
had no effect There was something
In my hand—a paper file—like a big
hat pin—hla hand on my throatl
I at ruck agalnl I couldn’t see
I don’t know what happened, but he
was lying In a chair pulling the paper
file from his breast."
Her hands battled up to hide her hor
rified eyes from ttyit vision of terror.
"Aline—Aline—you are torturing your
own heart,"%fried Holbrook.
The girl turned to the priest for
strength. “Go on. my daughter." he
said with infinite tenderness In his tone.
"THEN HE 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 I HEARD CHIEF
DEMPSTER PHONING FATHER "
"The. Chief phoned first? Before he
came?" questioned Holbrook, ever alert
for anything that might mean a chance
for the 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 the*
were coming to take me—I lived over
and over again the disgrace of it if
there had been anything—to take- I’d
have killed myself—too." I dressed, and
crept down again—and listened—at the
floors 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 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 tiie
priest's strong clasp.
"He will go through all of It with
me— the jail the trial the disgrace."
And now her strength deserted her—
like a reed in a bitter wind from the
north she swayed, racked by the chill
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 w'hat 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
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 he 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 wav of escape
for the girl who was struggling in the
morass of^ danger.
"Did any one see you leave the
house?”
"No one." answered Aline.
"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
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 V”
"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 chfld who
faces pain and stem 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 wonderful friend," she
said.
Then she turned In bewilderment to
Father Shannon, with her mother’s
jewel in her hand.
"Is it very wicked to think of escape
to think of keeping silent?”
To Be Continued To-morrow.
What Dame Fashion Is Offering
Attractive Styles Described by Olivette
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 gTeen and
gold, and it la
veiled by the sec
ond tunic of black
taffeta. They ;iro
finished at the
end In three
points that are
edged with Jet
beads. This tu
nic lq gathered
very full at the
waistline, and is
trimmed in the
back with an lm-
m e n s e butterfly
bow of black net.
A small, simple
blouse of white
net with v.ery
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.
HR disregard of all waistlines in
this afternoon frock, on the
| right, is its greatest charm. It
! Is made of rose-pink and vanilla sat-
j 'n. The bodice, of rose-pink mate
rial, is made with a bloused-bolero
effect, with a three-quarter sleeve
j slightly draped and trimmed at the
j elbow with a small buckle of vanilla satin.
A broad plait edges the decollete, which is knotted
j In the middle front by two small points. The crossed
yoke is of plain white net. A tunic of vanilla satin i3
slightly draped on th© right side with three small
plaits. The skirt Is very plain, fashioned after the
rounded style. It is made of rose-colored •Ilk muslin,
machine plaited, and finished at the hem with a nar
row silk fringe.— OLIVETTE.
Do You Know That
The French police have arrested an
old thief, known as “Father Noel,”
j who never entered a tobacconist’s
! shop without taking at least twenty
cigars. He stole daily an average of
; 300 cigars of the best quality, and a
woman who worked with him put
' them into boxes and sold them to
restaurant keepers at a greatly re-
| duced price.
! In Berlin the firemen wear water
I 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 the
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
which he was born, and sleeps on
the same oak bedstead on which he
first saw the light. He is very ac
tive for his age, and is a keen gar
dener.
toolng idea ever carried out was tha;
of a coachman who, at the time p?
the Dreyfus trial, had his body ana
legs covered with no fewer than 12‘)
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 1n 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
gr* »:iud.
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 tha illnesses
caused by defective action of the or
gans of digestion. Most serious sick
nesses get their start in troubles of
the stomach, liver, bowels—troubles
quickly, safely, surely relieved by
BEECHAM’S
PILLS
Sold everywhere. In koxe#. 10c.. 25c-
On© hundred and thirteen women
and three men were imprisoned dur-
l tng the year 1910 in England for *>f-
I fenses in connection with the suffra,-
| g-lFt agitation. The figures for 1912
i were 238 women and two men.
T'pward of 68ft tons of soot fall an
nually on each square mile of the
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
enttrelv of paper, the pipes being rolls i
of cardboard. The sound Is sweet
and powerful.
Human hair takes the fifth place in ;
China's list of exports, during the
year over 380,000 worth of hair hav
ing been distributed to countries all i
over the world.
A mine, now said to be exceedingly i
rich, was sold bv 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 txtraordiuaij i»t- :
CHRISTMAS HOLIDAY FARES
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Tickets on sale December 17 to 25 and 31, 1913, January 1,
1914. Good to return until midnight, January 6, 1914.
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Tickets sold December 20, 21, 22, 1913. Return limit January 18,
1914. Call on any Southern Railway Agent for complete Informa
tion as to rates, routes, schedules, etc.
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