Newspaper Page Text
i om aKe m. oney
inventors men mf >4nmm man inventivs ability, *hendd writ* fo-
4*7 for oar Hat ei itmOan needed. and prize* offend by loedinf
■iasuftc hirers.
Pftte&li secured or ««r fee returned. ~Whv teveniora
Fail.” “How to Get Your Patent and Yeer Money.** ?»J other
valuable booklets seat free to any address.
RANDOLPH & CO.
Pnteat Atteraeyn*
Mma G18 “F* Street, N. W„ |g|||£
jOG'St WASHIHUTOSI. B. «. *■-; ’*'-*'*}
♦THE
When a Woman Condemns a Slit St^irt We Always Wonder How She Would Loo)£ in One
^ /A\ liN '
Beauty and “the Green Monster”
Don’t Be Jealous if You Want to Be Beautiful, Says Dorothy Jardon.
By MAUDE MILLER,
.HIKE If a girl in New York who
T *. so attractive that the attrao-
ot on© particular feature j
: stand out, but Is merged Into |
iring whole. She is so won- ;
, r j ;i that with her first appearance ■
. stage a current of electricity j
ms like fire through the audience. J
r d when you aBk yourself what j
:3 about her after 3’OU >ve ha .
n ti to somewhat collect y uses 1
-e nowhere nearer Soivli. the
• n then you were before. Beauty
: i -re, but you have perhaps seen
, *ul wo'men before without her
l. attraction.
Is exactly how Miss Dorothy
of the Winter Garden, im-
.... ■ i me, and when I asked her
--he did to bewitch people she |
,;d me that It was something she
ro’JM like to share with every one,
icause it was in very truth a beauty i
secret that every one could use.
HKK S i RET.
"If I am attractive to people it is |
ause I have gained personam
ough not being jealous. Jealousy ,
the bug-bear of the American
:n en. 1 have never seen anything
the way that they allow it to
>' upon their nerves and perhap?
* bring a storm of tears in Its wake.
( - wash away more than a heart-
ch «. so don't indulge if you want to
& u off Father Time.
lu the first place, jealousy lodged
1 ' .tj human breast and allowed full
ra y prey* upon thfc whole nervous
, fc ea >- And when the nerves are
“ unstrung, the digestive 8> stem
>rr,i s in for a general upsetting The
' h is affected, the appetite goes,
the energy that shoukl be ex-
*nded upon the cares and problems
everyday life is absolutely given
*er to the green-eyed monster. 9o
Ihoh for this part of beauty’s un-
olog
Ty ES HPiR COLDS.
** A woman who if subject to flta- ot
Miss Dorothy Jardon.
jsy i: constantly exposing her-
to colds. Every jealous fit 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 shou.d 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
railing and laugh at her behind her
■ ■ “ " . ~ “ - T TL .. 1 Z .. —— . —
j.
41
rj
Uj
>
7 A Thrilling Story of
[ Society Blackmailers i
«?* ■* Two Striking Offerings ,-t .*
EXPERTLY DESCRIBED BY OLIVETTE
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
falling. Some of us succumb to it
easily, some only for real cause, and
some, not at all, for it affects 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.
\ T R. SAMUEL S
[VI has a scenic ai
SCHULTZ, who
» and mural paint
ing studio at Wilmington, in
ware, has won, despite a lifetime
’ t in painting subjects in heroic
the unique distinction of hav-
rnade the smallest landscape
ting in the world.
: s picture was executed on a
n of corn, and the painter has
> now recovered it after having
possession of it for more than
r ty years. Having lost track of the
ire. which he made in 1869, when
wajs only 19 years old, Schultz de-
i f -'l recently to try to recover it.
= h advertised in several foreign
■'papers, with the result that the
landscape came to him in its
> " ii frame a few days ago, the
•■'ing, in color and line, being as
and clear as on the day of Us
YOU ARE TOO YOUNG.
nEAR MISS FAIRFAX:
^ I am eighteen years old. and
inn working for a firm with excel
lent prospect*. Two months ago I
met a young girl by chance, and
eince I have seen her every night
I would give my right arm to please
her Do you think T ought to ask
her parents if I can give her a ring?
My salary Is $24 per week. Do you
think that I am too young, or is the
salary too small? ANXIOUS
Y OUR salary is not too small; I am
proud of you that one so young
earns so much. But you are too
young.
M'ait three years, and then you will
smile at the memory of what you now
call love.
THAT SHOULD NOT WORRY YOU
nEAR MIPS FAIRFAX;
■*“' I am seventeen and am con
sidered very good looking.
My three chums all have gentle
men friends; but, while I am con
sidered the best looking of the four,
none of the young men has ever
risked me to go to any place of
amusement with him or call at my
home. A. A.
1 1 is 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 Retention as of tha least
importance, makes tne best marriage.
Just remember this and ba happy,
and wait.
Up-to-the-Minute Jokes
particular grain of corn us<
from an ear that Mr. Schul
tate
•id picked on the
* esf&
Buchanan, fifteent:
•i PreJ
United States, at
Whea
™ had gone there to
> atten
^dent’s Tuneral, a
nd pi
’ of corn aF a sc
uvenlr
picture itself, t
well k
who paw i
d it ’was
rainiing
ears
rpiec
First Countryman (seeing a letter
! box for the first time): “What’s that
j for, Tom?"
Second Countryman' "I. dunno:
j looks like a religious sort o’ thing.”
First Countryman: “No, it can’t
j belong to no religious folk. It says,
No collections on Sundays.’ ’’
I Doctor—I hope you are following my
j instructions carefully, Sandy—the pills
i three times a day, and a drop of whisky
I at bedtime.”
I Sandy—“Weel. sir. I may be a wee
L.x weeks in front wf the wbuskey.”
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.”
* * *
Hoaxi “I thought you said that the
man was a musician?”
Joax: “Nonsense!”
“You certainly told me he wrote
melodies.”
“I told you he v.as a composer of
i heirs. He sells soothing syrup.”
(NovsIlrW »y>
l From the i>»i_
borough, now being presented at the
Thirty-ninth Street Theater, New York.
Serial rights held and copyrighted by
International News Service.)
TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT.
“A letter of mine that I 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
girl ho loved tortured by memory and
the stern necessity for relieving her
agony.
"The girl*struck blindly—no pre
meditation—plain s^lf-defense—but it
won’t get that far—we've destroyed
the trail,” cried Holbrook in a cres
cendo of hope and trust.
“Choked you!” said the father, vis-
sioning those talons of evil on his
motherless girl’s throat.
“Yes.”
“Were you present?” asked Gra
ham. wanting reason why Holbrook
could so vividly portray Aline’s tor
ture.
“With his hand on her throat? My
God, man—do ye think I'm a dead
fish?” cried the captain, in cold fury
And added, with quiet venom. “He
was cold 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
man was all pent up energy as lie
forced upon the father’s dazed con
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,’
said the girl to her father, in a tone
of sudden quiet resignation. “The de
ceit—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 save 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 w orlds apart—because of
those “three days by a summer sea”—
exact toll from her empty life,
those three days that seemed still to
“Did jou know she meant to go
there?” questioned the counselor of
Holbrook.
“You are getting me d-d mafl—
you are,” cried Holbrook with heat
that matched his words.
“He must ask you questions, Lar
ry,” interposed Father Shannon pac
ifically.
“But would 1 let her do such a
thing?”
“No!” said Father Shannon; “but
he does not know you as I do and
the 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.
“The Department of Justice.” He
went to the telephone and called. “28
Main.”
“Are you going to tell?” 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.
“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 tp make
eager protest: “I 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—I 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
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 be 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 1 don’t want to prosecute I
may even want to defend him! Yes,
I want to be relieved immediately.
Well, thank you.” He hung up the
phone. “Thank you, Captain. This
terrible news is so sudden that 1
can’t even think.”
“Of course, you can l, poor man.
I’ve been goin' round it all night, and
I’m fuzzy meself. ”
More Revelations.
"I may seem ungrateful, Captain
Holbrook, for the service* and devo
tion you’ve shown Aline since this
man Flagg was killed—but l can’t
forgive you for persuading her into a
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.
“D n’t, daddj don’t!” cried Aline.
‘‘Don’t sir—-you snrelv don’t want—
to tilt at windmills—now.”
“Your marriage to Aline!” cried the
father in the stern 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 ii
last night. And so she went—fowlin'
was waiting her,” meditated th<-
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
had seen It all. * • * ”
She fumbled in the bosom of her
gown—and again offered that decep
tively delicate-looking pink missive.
This time it was taken.
“Here it i&—don’t—read—It—out
loud.”
“May 1 go. sir?” asked Holbrook.
“I’U wait In the hall.”
“Ah, don't let him go,” cried the
girl to the priest.
"Yes—my clear—and I’ll go. too—
’tts not indifference—dear child—’tis
just that you will best be alone with
your father."
“You’d best call my trainer.” said
Holbrook, in kindly determination
that the situation should savor as lit
tle as possible of the tragic.
“Are ye there, Donnell?” he called
from the doorway.
“I ana," floated back a voice.
“He is ” announced the Captain,
with a smile of assurance—and then
he and the priest were gone. Aline
was 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 nozv, as perhaps another judge
would pronernor it later.
The Letter Again.
The man read the little pink letter
that told all of the girl’s stolen love
—and the days of dreaming by a
summer sea—and the dreary nwaken
ing with its plea. “You can’t leave
me now—Tom.” He read it—and
then lie stood in silence regarding it.
His little Aline! So she had drunk
a bitter 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
pilfering hands that do not know 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 w'alt 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 George-
, 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
place?"
“Atlantic City,” came her muffled
answer.
And still the calm, judicial cross-
examination.
“Where was 1?”
“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?’ ”
“I 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.”
i “Do you know hi» name?”
“No.”
“Did he look like a minister?”
I A little gleam of self-justification
1 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
was? 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 back 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 that?"
“He went away. I was still at
school.”
To Be Continued To-morrow.
A FTERNOON gown of azure taffeta is shown
on the left. The surplice blouse Is edged
with turquoise velvet, and has a small
Medici collar of the velvet. The arm-holes are low,
and the tiny sleeve la edged with chinchilla, as Is
the tunic of plaited taffeta. Four circular flounces
trimmed in taffeta buttons fall below 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 email 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-lncli width will be fou^fl 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—the favorite
Implements of the smart dressmaker of the
Winter.
The left side of the bodice is made of draped
tuile, veiled by a deep collar of strass. The right
side ip of velvet, with a broad kimono sleeve Adged
in skunk.
A band of this same fur forms the bolt in front
and falls on either side in the rounded lines of a
basque. A knot of the tulle Is caught at the left
hip by straws 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 this
draping.—OLIVETTE.
Do You Know
That—
The same species of flower never
shows more than tw 0 of the three
colors, red. yellow. and blue. Roe
for instance, are foun c j red and yel
low, but never blue; verbenas are red
and blue, but not yellow.
Since Women’s Suffrage waa
granted In Illinois there have been
three elections, and on each occasion
lees than 10 per cent, of the women
voted.
A bee, unladen, will fly forty miles
an hour, but one coming home laden
with honey does not travel faster
than twelve miles an hour.
Grapes contain from 12 to 26 per
cent, of sugar—more, that is. than
any other fruit.
Austria was the first country to
adopt the system of postcards. This
was In 1869.
If eyelashes are cut, the eyes are
weakened
XMAS RATES
Reduced over N., C. &
L. Ry. and V/. & A. R.
Apply any Agent.
There is Comfort in
knowing that you can obtain one tried and proved remedy
thoroughly well adapted to your needs. Every woman
who is troubled with headache, backache, languor,
extreme nervousness and depression of spirits ought to try
(The Ltrgfeit Sale of Any Medicine in the World)
and learn what a difference they will make. By purifying
the system they insure better dige3tion, sounder sleep, quieter
nerves, and bestow the charm of sparkling eyes, a spotless rosy
complexion and vivacious spirits. Thousands upon thousands of
women have learned, happily,that Beecham’s Pills are reliable and
The Unfailing Home Remedy
Sold everywhere. In boxes, 10c., 25c.
The directions with every box are very valuable—especially to women.
Every
Woman
Ik Interested and should
know about the wonderful
Marvel "“***«»
Douche
A«k rotfrdme'glst for
it. ft he cannot soo-
_ . ap
ply the MARVEL,
accept no other, but
Kend stamp for book
M»n«l S*, 4U. St. HI.