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Beauty and “the Great Monster”
t Be Jealous if You Want to Be Beautiful, Says Dorothy Jardon.
By MAUDE MILLER.
iikrk Is a girl In New York who
is ao attractive that the attrae-
* t on of one particular feature
■ - not aland out, but la merited Into
■ ■ alluring whole. She la so won
ful that with her first appearance
on the stage a current of electricity
runs like Are through the audience
And when you ask yourself what
there W» about her after you have had
time to somewhat collect your sensei
you are nowhere nearer solving the j
problem then you were before. Beauty
Is there, but you have perhaps seen j
beautiful women before without her
strange attraction.
This is exactly how Miss Dorothy
Jardon, of the Winter Garden, 1m-
preaaed rue, and when 1 naked her
whet she did to bewitch # people she
told me that It was something she
would like to ehare with every one,
because It was in very truth a beauty
secret that every one could u»e.
IIKR SRCRBT.
"If I am attractive to people It Is
AT BAY
A Thrilling Story of
Society Blackmailers
s Two Striking Offerings ,-e
EXPERTLY DESCRIBED BY OLIVETTE
ee cause 1 have gatneo personality
through not being Jealous. Jealousy
is the bug-bear of the American
women I have never seen anything
like the way that they allow it to
play upon their nerves and perhaps
to bring a storm of tears in Its wake.
Tears wash away more than a heart
ache, so don’t Indulge if you want to
fight off Father Time.
‘ In the first place. Jealousy lodged !
In the human breast and allowed full
eway preys upon thr; whole nervous j
system. And when the nerves are |
all unstrung, the digestive system
cornea in for a general upsetting The
stomach la affected, the appetite goes,
and the energy that should be ex
pended upon the cares and problems
of everyday life is absolutely given
over to the green-eyed monster. So
much for this pa*i of beauty's un
doing
(.l\ rcs llRR < OLDS.
"A woman w ho Is subject to tlta of
Miss Dorothy Jardon.
jealousy Is constantly exposing her
self to colds. Every Jealous At over
heats the blood and Is therefore very
weakening And as for facial char
acteristics Watch the jealous
woman and read her trouble in her
eyes, which are cold, hard and rest
less. not tender and alluring as a
woman's eyes should be Watch the
expression of her mouth and the de
cided lines In her face and ask your
self if she can be. attractive to any
one Her women friends know her
falling a«A laugh at her behind her
back because she lets It dominate
her And as for being attractive to
men. she has made this forever im
possible. A woman must appeal to a
man through another woman, or not
at all!
"And so we must all fight against
this jealousy, which is a universal
failing. Some of us succumb to it
easily, some only for real cause, and
some, not at all, for It afreets every
one differently. But fight against it
we must. If we wish to establish a
beauty record of any kind among
American women ’*
The Tiniest Picture
Advice to the Lovelorn
By BEATRICE FAIRFAX.
M R. SAM IT ML SCHULTZ, who
has a scenic and mural paint-
ip- studio at Wilmington, in
l)o!.i w-a re. ' ‘H won, despite a lifetime
*>; * i in painting subjects in heroic
- the unique distinction of hav-
smallest landscape
world.
was executed on a
and the painter has
nniy now recovered tt after having
>>t possession of it for more than
forty years. Having lost track of the
picture, which he made in 1869. when
he was only 19 years old. Schultz, de-
. ided recently to try to recover it.
He advertised in several foreign
newspapers, with the result that the
mac
ting
P
tl
turo
corn,
YOU ARE TOO YOUNG.
nKAR MISS FAIRFAX
I am eighteen years old. and
am working for a firm with excel
lent prospects Two months ago l
met h young girl by chance, and
• ince I have seen her ever> night.
1 would give mv right arm t > please
her. Do you think 1 ought to ask
her parents If 1 can give her n ring?
My salary is $24 per week. Do you
think that 1 am too young, or Is the
salary too small? ANXIOUS.
fOUR salary Is not too email; l am
proud of you that one so young
much. But you are too
THAT SHOULD NOT WORRY YOU
DEAR MISS FAIRFAX:
1 am seventeen and am con
sidered very good looking
My three chums all have gentle
men friends; but, while T am con
sidered the best looking of the four,
none of the yvung men has ever
asked me to go to any place of
amusement with him or call at my
home. A A.
\
r
earns so
young.
Walt three years, and then you will
smile at the memory of what you now
call love.
U a fact, which you will admit
when you look around you, that
the girl who receives the least pro
miscuous attention from the men. and
regards such attention aa of the least
importance, makes tne best marriage.
Just remember this and be happy,
and wait.
From th« > I Georg* Scar
borough now being presented at ihs
Thirty-ninth Street Theater, New York.
ted by
International News Service.)
TODAY’S INSTALLMENT.
"A letter of mine that 1 didn't want
people to see I gave him $200 and
mother's emerald brooch. He wanted
more—he tried to' take the letter
away from me. He was choking me.
daddy—with his hand on my throat.”
! The words were wrung from a soul in
agony- and Lawrence Holbrook, sol
dier. must stand helpless and see the
Kiri he loved tortured by memory and
the stern necessity for relieving her
• agony,
"The girl struck blindly—no pre-
I meditation—plain self-defense—but B
■ won’t get that far we’ve destroyed
| ihe trail.” cried Holbrook in a cres-
| ■ endo of hope and trust.
“Choked you!” said the father, vis-
, sioning those talons of evil on his
j motherless gill’s throat.
"Yes.”
“Were you present?” asked Gra
ham. wanting reason why Holbrook
could so vividly portray Aline’s tor-
i t lire.
“With his hand on her throat? My
| God, mm—do ye think I in a dead
fish?” cried the captain, in cokl fury
j And added, with quiet venom. "He
was told a half hour when I saw'
him.”
"Your brooch?” questioned the
father, anxiously.
“Here it is Captain Holbrook got
it for me. . Tell him, please.”
"I sneaked It out of his left fist.
There’s no clew whatever. Don’t
waste time thrashing old straw’. The
thing now is an ALIBI for her.” The
i man was all pent up energy as he
j forced upon the father’s dazed eon-
j sciousness the danger that menaced
| the girl they both loved. “Why, man
—you’ve got to swear she was here all
the time—all the time, mind ye!”
Why Holbrook Went.
“I’m willing to give myself up,”
j said tiie girl to her father, in a tone
of sudden quiet resignation. "The de-
( eit—the suspense—and you to trick
the law for me—I’ll bear what I
must ”
“No—no ” thundered the captain
in a tone of Jove-like command.
“Suspicion mustn’t fall on Captain
Holbrook—he mustn’t be . . She
seemed to forget that the man she
would gave from saving her was there
—she spoke of “Captain Holbrook” as
one immeasurable distances away—
and from her she felt he was in truth
measureless worlds apart—because of
those “three days by a summer sea”—
exact toll from her empty life,
those three days that seemed still to
“Did you know she meant to go
there?” questioned the counselor of
Holbrook.
“You are getting me d—d mad—
you are." cried Holbrook with heat
that matched his words.
“He must ask you questions, Lar
ry,” interposed Father Shannon pac
ifically.
“But would I let her do such a
thing?”
"No!” said Father Shannon; “but
he does not know’ you as I do—and
tiie law can’t take a man for granted
like the church can.”
“Then why were you there?” went
on the interrogating law.
“I went to thrash him—but you
can’t strike a dead man,” explained
Captain Holbrook categorically.
“Why thrash him?”
“Oh, I told you that last night.”
impatiently the Irishman replied to
all this “flUbdub'* of the law that
could go a-lacerating the woman he
loved, though the questioner were her
father.
“That stuff in the paper. Mr. Gra
ham.” explained the churchman, to
whom patience was a virtue beyond
! question or cavil.
And then the Irishman let himself
go. All the imaginative mysticism
| of his race claimed him for a mo-
: ment.
“A rose on the floor—her perfume
in the air -when the blessed halo of
a girl you love makes you tremble in
every nerve of your body, it’s quick
as a stroke of lightning when it hits
your nostrils again. Why, the whole
room shouted Aline at me!”
And then the soldier took command
of the poet and Captain Holbrook fin
ished Larry’s little flight in this wise.
“For the love of heaven, Mr. Gra
ham. quit tryin’ me and start protect
ing her. Get those policeman out of
your house—throw a scare into them
—you’ve got a wonderful pull with the
Department of Justice ” whereat
the Irishman twinkled out of Larry’s
eyes even while the captain was all
serious business. “Sic the detectives
onto me. Call me names or kick me
out of the house, or something like
that, and I'll swear at you—and call
you an ignoramus—anything to kick
up a dust!”
Graham seized upon one idea.
‘ Tii® Department of Justice." He
went to the telephone and called. ”28
Main.”
Are you going to tfll?” quavered
Aline.
"Of course he isn't. He’s startin’ in
to work for you at last.” Holbrook
assured her with calmness.
She turned to him—fathomless
depths in her eyes. And so they
stood facing each other while the man
at the telephone continued on his
course.
The Father Fre.
Holbrook. “You don’t want to prose
cute me!”
“I want to work on the other side.”
said Graham, after allowing himself
one still, long glance at the eager
captain.
* Say ME!” said that individual an
grily. Couldn’t the man see. he won-
dered how easy it all would bo if
the suspicion were just strongly di
rected to him. He forgot that a sus
pect is often half proven a criminal.
“The man under arrest is so near
me in a certain way ” began Gra
ham in an uncertain way.
That's the stuff!” and Holbrook
fairly pranced in glee.
That I don’t want to prosecute I
may even want to defend him! Yes.
I want to be relieved immediately. |
Well, thank you.” lie hung up the
phone. * Thank you, Captain. This
terrible news is so sudden that I
can’t even think.”
“Of course, you can’t, poor man.
I’ve been goin’ round it all night, and
I'm fuzzy meself.”
More Revelations.
“T may seem ungrateful. Captain
Holbrook, for the service and devo
tion you’ve shown Aline since this
man Fkigg was killed—but l can’t
forgive you for persuading her into a j
secret marriage- nor Father Shannon :
for performing it.” said the father In
mingled feelings toward this man
who had, as he saw it, harmed and
now determined to save Aline
“Don’t., daddy—don't!” cried Aline. 1
“Don’t sir—you surely don’t want—
to tilt at windmills—now’.”
“Your marriage to Aline!” cried the
father in the stem tone of one who is
sure he is not “tilting at windmills.”
"HASN’T OCCURRED!”
“You said she had confessed.” cried
Graham, turning in bewilderment to
Father Shannon.
“A secret marriage—yes." assented
Father Shannon.
“Before I knew Captain Holbrook.”
confessed the girl in torture that it
seemed would never end.
"The lawyer telephoned about it
las*, night. And so she went—to what
was waiting her.” meditated the
priest.
“Flagg had a letter—I didn't want
even you to see it, daddy. Then '
* * * I went—to get it * * *
you know the rest almost as if—you
V-
Up-to-the-Mmute Jokes
landscape came to him in its
original frame a few days ago, the
painting, in color and line, being as
sharp and clear as on the day of its
execution.
The particular grain of corn used I
came from an car that Mr. Schultz belong t
hs a lad picked
James Buchanan.
of the United States, at Wheatland,
Pa. He had gone there to attend the
ex-President's funeral, and plucked
the ear of corn as a souvenir. As
for the picture itself, a well known
artist, who saw it many years ago,
masterpiece of
First Countryman (seeing a letter
box for the first timei; "What's that
for. Tom ?”
Sec nd Countryman "J dunno:
looks like a religious sort o’ thing ”
First Countryman: "No, it can’t
religious folk. It Fays.
on the estate of ‘No collections on Sundays.’
fifteenth President • * *
j Doctor—I 1
I instructions
three times a
you are following my
fully. Sandy—the pills
I Sandy—“Week s
j bit behind wi’ the
i six w eeks in front
may be a
s. bpt I'm
the whuske.
At a recent duel the parties dis
charged their pistols without effect
whereupon one of the seconds inter
posed and proposed that the com
batants should shake hands To this
the other second objected as unneces
sary.
“Their hands said he. have been
shaking for half an hour."
Hoax: ! thought you said that the
man was a musician?”
Joax: 'Nonsense!"
"You certainly told me he wrote
itu lodics "
"I told you he was a composer of
| heirs. He sells soothing syrup.”
“The Attorney General there?” ask
ed Graham.
“My foolishness lost the night,”
groaned Holbrook.
"Gordon Graham, District Attor
ney,” went on the conversation over
the wire “Well, is the first assistant
in put him on the line, please."
Holbrook came forward to make
eager protest: "l don't believe in as
sistant officials.”
Graham went on: "Hello—yes—Gen
eral this is Gordon Graham-‘-attor
ney for the district. You read of the
death of Judson Flagg last night.
Yes—case is coming into my office,
and d like to be relieved from work
on it.”
Slowly a light kindled and flushed
its way over Aline’s lined white face.
Her father was her friend after all!
"Relieved entirely—1 don’t want to
handle any part of it because—well,
I can’t tell you over the phone.”
'Yes you can—say me!" prompted
had seen it all.
She fumbled in the bosom of her
gown—and again offered that decep- |
lively delicate-looking pink, missive.
This time it was taken.
“Here it is—don’t—read—it—out
loud.”
“May I go. sir?” asked Holbrook.
“I’Ll wait in the hall.”
“Ah, don't let him go,” cried the
girl to the priest.
“Yes—my dear—and I’ll go. too—
'tl:' not indifference—dear child—’tis
just that you will best be alone with
your father."
"You’d best call my trainer.” said
Hclbrook, in kindly determination j
that the situation should savor as lit- !
tie ns possible of the tragic.
“Are ye there, Donnell?” he called!
from the doorway.
"1 am,” floated back a voice.
“He is.” announced the Captain. |
with n smile of assurance—and then
he and the priest were gone. Aline
’.ia« alone with her father!
The girl sat like a criminal in the
docket—waiting the sentence—and it
was her father who must say her
doom now, as perhaps another judge
would pronounce it later.
The Letter Again.
The mon read the little pink letter
that told all of the girl’s stolen love j
—and the days of dreaming by a
summer sea—and the dreary awaken
ing with its plea, "You can't leave
me now—Tom.” He read it—and
then he stood In silence regarding it.
His little Aline! So she had drunk
a hitter draft from the cup of knowl
edge—-she was a,._woman, and knew
her woman’s heritage. His baby—was
a woman! To a man his daughter is
sadly often a child—when childhood's
Innocence has been torn from her by
pikering hands that do not kiow that
when the rosebud becomes a rose, it
is warm sun and gentle rain that
make "the golden heart unclose’—
and that the tearing blast that will
not wait for Nature's growth, only
destroys.
At last Graham asked a question in
quiet tones. "When did this happen,
Alire?”
"When I was at school in lleorge-
town—the last Easter vacation there.”
"Who knew of It?”
"Only Hattie.”
There was a pause. In a minute of
time six years took their grim toll of
father and daughter.
"There three days at the sea—what
piece?"
"Atlantic City,” came her muffled
answer.
And still the calm, judicial cross-
examination.
“Where was I?”
“In Virginia. Grandpa was ill—
you’d gone to see him.”
Graham looked again at that pink
missive. “Why do you say here—
’mock marriage?"
“His letter called it that—only a
mock marriage."
"Where his ‘his letter?’"
1 burned it—that was six years
ago ” cried the girl, lifting her head
with a stricken look marring her
eyes to the semblance of death itself.
"Who performed this marriage?”
"A man in Baltimore—a minister, I
thought.”
"Do you know his name?"
“No."
"Did he look like a minister?”
A little gleam of self-justification
came into the girl’s eyes at that.
"Yes—clothes—his face, too—he
seemed a good man."
“Where was it—this ceremony?"
"In his house—nice enough place."
"Do you know where the house
v.as? Could you find it?”
Aline shook her head hopelessly.
She could not see where this grilling
—this third degree of which she had
often heard—was to lead them.
■ We went there in a carriage. Don’t
think I even heard the address. Then
we drove right to the station. Hattie
came home. He and I—went—to At
lantic City.”
"Where is this man now?" ques
tioned the District Attorney.
• I don't know. He came hack to
Washington with me. I went back to
school. * * * Oh, must I ”
"Three days." said Graham, grimly.
He seemed unaware of her breaking
nerves. He did not see that self-
control was fast leaving her.
Three days—and after tha!?"
"He went away. 1 was still
school.’’
A FTERNOON gown of azure taffeta is shown
on the left. The surplice blouse 1b edged
with turquoise velvet, and has a small
Medici collar of the velvet. The arm-holes are low,
and the tiny sleeve is edged with chinchilla, as is
the tunic of plaited taffeta. Four circular flounces
trimmed in taffeta buttons fall below 7 the tunic.
The line of flounces and of tunic is cutaway. The
bottom of the skirt opens over a petticoat flounce
of turquoise chiffon.
The home dressmaker will find it possible to
copy this dress at small cost by the substitution
of cheaper materials for the taffeta and chinchilla.
An inexpensive fur may be used—or black velvet
ribbon in a two-inch width will be found very
effective; and for the taffeta may be substituted
an inexpensive silk—or even albatross or cloth of a
light weight.
The wonderful French model on the right Is de
veloped in rose velvet, fur and tulle—thfr favorite
implements of the smart dressmaker of the
Winter.
The left side of the bodice is made of draped
tulle, veiled by a deep collar of'sfrass. The right
side Is of velvet, with a broad kimono sleeve edged
in skunk.
A band of this same fur forms the belt In froDt
and falls on either side in the rounded lines of a
basque. A knot of the tulle is caught at the left
hip by strass beads.
The skirt drapes into some fullness, and ends in
a pointed train. At the line of the hips it is doubled
under itself and falls in a tunic line from t
draping.—OLIVETTE.
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618 “F* Street, N. W. f
WASHINGTON, li. C.
I