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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 VIA SOUTHERN RAILWAY TO ALL POINTS IN ALABAMA, FLORIDA, GEORGIA, KENTUCKY, NORTH AND SOUTH CAROLINA, TENNES SEE, VIRGINIA, WASHINGTON, D. C., AND CINCINNATI, OHIO. Tickets on sale December 17 to 25 and 31, 1913, January 1, 1914. Good to return until midnight, January 6, 1914. ALSO TO MANY POINTS IN Arkansas, Illinois, Iowa, Minnesota, Missouri, Nebraska, Oklahoma, S. Dakota, Texas, Wisconsin. 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. CITY TICKET OFFICE, 1 Peachtree St„ Atlanta