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The Foundations of Character Are Laid in the Home
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A Thrilling Story of Modem Life
Hunting a Husband
By ANN LISLE
3 The Magic Song
3
3
3
Bv STELLA FLORES
Copyright, 1010, Int*rn*tlon*l Now* Servlet.
3
1\
•But don't you think Margarht
Compton-Blake Is condescending?"
No: 1 don't. Were Juat girls, and
,e like each other. Somehow each
•ne or'us Knows the other Is attracted
by her. and It's a nice, warm, cozy
feeling,’ replied Judith, thoughtfully,
but with some of the cozy, warm
feeling selling her cheeks aglow and
her eyes agleam.
Bui she came in from the trip to
which she had looked forward with
S i h pleasure In a mood that must
bs\e struck Bonnie as decidedly sub
dued if that young person had taken
the rime to consider It. The cares o» |
the dancing school and of Bonnie s du
ties at the Valthorpe kept the alatora
apart for the rest of the day. When
Bonnie came in at 3 in the morning,
Judith was generally asleep. But on
ihis particular night Bonnie found
her sister waiting up for her. Judith
lame into the younger girl's room and
I ill led up on the bed under the silk
puff while Bonale sleepily began to
Lip out of her da,nring flnery.
"ilet into your warm robe, Bonnie
I've something awfully serious to talk
to you about.
"Oh. Judy, to-morrow will do; I'm
so sleepy now."
"To-morrow won't do. Bonnie: it's
about what Margaret Compton-Blake
wanted of me."
“Oh. then she wanted something—
it wasn't Just becausea ha liked you."
Judith smiled a little wearily. "She
trusted me. anyhow, and came to me
with her worry. That’s a sort of lik
ing. Listen. Sis; Miss Blake Is wor
ried about Wllla Torrance.”
"About Wllla Torrance? What does
that matter to us, Judy? I'm worried
about her. too— she'a engaged to the
marvelous Jimmie, on whom I have
mv eye."
"That's the point. Bonnie. Willa
Torrance is engaged to James
Compton-Blake. So I suppose he's In
love with her. There's no reason why
he should ask a woman to marry him
otherwise. And he’s likely to get
hurt—to get hurt thrraigh us—because
we started this dancing school and
she came to our classes, and It’s all
our fault, and we’ve got to help."
"Will the dignified Miss Judith
Hoyt-Mortimer kindly condescend to
go slow and be coherent? It’s 3 a. m.
and my mind is a trifle tired and not
spry enough to follow her flights.
Please state facts, Judith."
"Bonnie, do you care anything about
Reginald Burke?”
"Oh. Judy, you're tired too. Don't
go switching off Into a siding. Stick
to the Torrance Compton-Blake affair
and don't mix me In."
"Bonnie, you are mixed In”
Bonnie interrupted, eagerly: "You
mean Jimmie has begun to take no
tice of me and Willa objects?"
"I mean Wills has begun to take
notice of Reggie—and do you ob
ject ?"
Judy Tries to Explain
The Whole Situation.
"Of Reggie? Oh, Judy, you don't
mean that?"
"You care. Bonnie?"
"He's the best dancing partner of
any of the men I know. I'd mind if
they set up as a rival couple," laugh
ed Bonnie.
"Well, 1m glad that's all you mind,
anyhow, dear. I couldn’t bear to have
him hurt and you too ”
The younger girl suspended her
brush in mid air and surveyed her
sister for a moment or two in preg
nant silence. "You couldn't bear to
have him hurt You couldn't bear —
what's Jimmy Compton-Blake to vou,
Judy?"
"A friendtho only real friend L’ve
ever had—and his sister's my friend,
too. Now how will we stop this
thing?"
''I'm not sure I want to atop it,
Judy. Reginald is only a good danc
ing partner. I've always said I meant
to marry Jimmy Compton-Blake, and
If his fiance politely removes herself
from my path and takes my dancing
partner as she goes, that leaves me
a very free agent."
“Then you won't help?"
Help! What can I do? If Reg
gie’s tired of hls useless infatuation
for me and has been sane enough to
fall In love with a very eligible young
woman like Wills Torrance. 1. ns hls
friend, must rejoice to think he's
planning to—place himself so well In
life. How could I be expected to in
terfere for the sake of people I hard
ly know? And If I did interfere, what
could I do? Tlgo-e's nothing so dead
as a dead infatuation.
"How could I galvanize Reggie's
USE COCOANUT OIL
FOR WASHING HAIR
If you want to keep your hair In
good condition, the lens soap you use
the better.
Most boaps and prepared shampoos
contain too much alkali. This dries
the scalp, makes the hair brittle, and
s very harmful. Just plain mulslfled
cocoanut oil (which is pure and en
tirely greaseless) is much better
than soap or anything else you can
use for shampooing, as this can’t pos
sibly Injure the hair.
Simply moisten your hair with
water and rub it in. One or two tea-
spoonsfuls will make an abundance of
rich, creamy lather, and cleanses the
hair and scalp thoroughly. The lath
er rinses out easily, and removes
every particle of dust. dirt, dandruff
and excessive oil. The hair dries
quickly and evenly, and it leaves It
fine and silky, bright, fluffy and easy
to manage.
You can get mulsified cocoanut oil
at most any dru* store. It is very
cheap, and a few ounces is enough to
last everyone in the family for
months.
CHICHESTER S PILLS
. Tnc BKlKiT A
Udleg! Aik r«ar ** * *
CM-ckg.-iefl L'l®:
t ill* in and <
boxes be&ied with
Tak„ no other. Bny of
*»CKJU€inc*.T»L
IMA^OVP It KAN D PILLS, fvrti
years known** fiest.Ssfaat. A!war, Reliable
SOLD BY DRLGGISTS EVERVWHf PS
perished Affection for me back into
life again? Don’t be absurd, Judy.
There’* nothing we can do for Marga
ret Compton-Blake if her friend, Wil
la Torrance, want* to flirt a 1 ttle.
Good-night, dear. Bonnie’* sleepy,
* • • Oh, you aren't going with
out kiwilng your little »l»ter?"
Judith came back and kissed Bon
nie. "I don't suppose there* much
w* can do if Willa Torrence want* to
flirt with Reginald Burke." the eaid
slowly. "He wouldn’t look at me.
Won't you try to be a little extra
sweet to him, Bonnie?"
"Yea. I'll try for your sake, you
silly old dear But I don't know
what'll come of it. I'm sure."
Very strange thing* were to come
of It all, as Judith found out a few
days later.
gjlt /T'SS MORTIMER. you're
lvl w *ht e d at Ol e phone," -aid
the little- maid, appearing
at the door of the dancing studio
where Judy was giving Mrs. Lee Car
ter's children Instructions In tht
waltz.
Over the phone came Ronnie’s
voice, high and shrill: “Judy, is Regi
nald Burke there? it's half-past four
and he hasn't showed up here at th.
Valthorpe. Mr. Hlddons has been tel
ephoning ali over town for him."
"No, Bonnie. Have you tried hls
house and tils club, »nd the real
estate office'.-"
"Yes, and he doesn't seem to be
anywhere. Send Tracy Hunter down.
He Is the beet of our instructors, and
I must have a partner this afternoon.
Hut I wonder where Reginald Is. He
ham never behaved like this before.
He's so reltable."
Judith felt strangely worried a* she
walked back to the studio where a
dozen couples were whirling about to
Ihe music of her vlctrola Reginald
Rurke had never disappointed Bonnie
before And Judy's mind was busy
with the memory that Margaret
Compton-Blake had come to her a
week ago with the story of her worry
over the flirtation between her broth
er's fiance, Wllla Torrance, and Reg
inald Burke.
"Have you seen Miss Torrance
since her lesson yesterday, Mrs. Car
ter?" a*ked Judy nervously.
"No. Miss Mortimer. What r
strange question for you to ask," re
plied Mrs, Carter in a tone that made
Judy foel y,ry much put in place. She
stammered Ssiniethlng nervously about
a new .•ecorn s- for the vlctrola—one
Mies Torrance had specially asked for,
and tried to devote herself to the lit
tle Carter children—but her mind was
not on the intricacies of “one, two,
three, four, glide," or any variation of
step.
There was nothing to d6 but dis
patch Tracy Hunter to the Valthorpe
and go on with the round of lepsons
that lasted until nearly 7.
At 7 she and Bonnie always had a
quiet little dinner that refreshed .both
of them and started them off with
new vigor for the evening’s work.
They made it a point to exchange lit
tle hits of gossip and to keep dancing
very much out of their conversation
Bonnie had always said. "We have to
live dancing, but we don't have to
eat It."
To-night, however, neither of the
girls could keep the conversation im
personal. You could hardly stHrt a
hue and cry because an able-bodied
m->n like Reginald Burke had not hear
eeen since the previous day. But both
the girls had a very uneasy feeling,
which was in no wise mitigated by
tie fact that they could hardly do any-
inquiring. since Bonnie had a suhstl-
tue dancing partner and two lone
young women are not supposed to
show too much Interest In a man's
whereabouts.
It was not until 11 that night that
any tidings came from the missing
Reginald. Then a messenger boy ar
rived with a telegram addressed to
Miss Bonnlbelle Mortimer, and Judy-
broke all rules of the establishment
*nd the envelope in one tearing sweep
of a hairpin.
"Wills and I married in Trenton
this afternoon Wish you luck in find
ing a new partner. Reginald Burke,"
read Judy.
It was exactly what she had expect
ed; It was almost what she had been
waiting for all day long. It was really
hardly any affair of hers, and yet
Judy sat staring at thnt yellow sheet
of paper as if it bore her news of
great moment.
For the next hour the telephone
Jangled madly every few minutes. The
world seemed entirely composed of
reporters who wanted to interview
Mr. Burke's dancing partner and of
pupils who wanted to know if the
news was true. It appeared that the
marriage had taken place at noon and
that Reginald and Willa had sent tel
egrams broadcast, so by now all New
York knew of the "latest society
elopement."
When Bonnie reached home she
brought with her an inky extra on
whose front page there were the
glaring headlines, "Society beauty
elopes with dancing master. Wllla
Torrance Jilts young Compton-Blake
j for Reginald Burke." and after that
I there followed a lurid account of how
! young Burke, whose people had a
ve ry good position in society* had de-
I sorted hls hereditary caste to take up
| dancing and become a professor in-
. stead of a parasite; of how- Willa
Torrance had met the boy she had al
ways known as an equal on a brand
new footing, and how he had taught
her love and the fox trot at one and
the same tlm». The last paragraph in
the article held Judy's attention very
painfully. It read;
“Of course, the Burkes and the Tor-
ranees will easily- enough be recon
ciled to the runaway matoh of their
children. Young Burke ha* proven
that he i, capable of making a good
1 livelihood, and Miss Torrance has
j shown that sh» is quite able to man-
| age her own affairs. Th? one person
I who may And himself unable to take
the match cheerfully Is young Jimmie
Compton-Blake. He and Miss Tor-
I ranee were boy and girl sweethearts
i and their engagement, which was long
j understood, was to he announced
; shortlv on the occasion of Mr. Blake’s
! becoming a member of the firm of
! Estrrbrook, Curtis & Almy."
i "Judy, couldn't you ask Miss Comp
ton-Blake here to tea some Sunday
| evening and suggest she bring her
I brother? Of qourae, don't do it too
n—that would be indecent, but as
I N the Spring or bygone days the notes or a magic song thrilled
through the forest, and all the wild folk would gather together
fearlessly to hear the sweet music. In pairs they came, and thetr
eyes grew opalescent and burned with soft firs as they listened. And
the little cave woman, sneathed like a lily in ner glorious masses oi
coppery hair, snuggled up fearlessly against the magnificent young
cave man who had just wooed her with his club.
To-day the forest folk are far away, yet they always hear the song
in Spring. But the ennaren of the cave man ana woman of long ago
are still more fortunate. For those who have once listened to the song
together can hear it all the time if they cherish it.
And by its magic there is always Spring in their hearts.
—STELLA FLORES.
aoon
long as Willa Torrance isn’t on his
horizon, we might as well put Bonnie
Mortimer there,” said that young
woman calmly. “Tracy Hunter does
very well for a dancing partner, and
he was glad enough to take $100 out
of the $300 they give me at the Val
thorpe. And now with all the free ad
vertising Reggie’s given us, the Hoyl-
Mortimer Studio will get so fashion
able that the Compton-Blake* ran
well afford to know us socially. Wait
abeut a month and then nsk Margaret
to bring her brother.”
“Oh, I couldn't,’’ said Judy. But she
knew she would.
“I’d like* first rate to come to tea,
Miss Mortimer, if T hadn’t already
asked Dick Almy and hls wife to take
just that very meal with me at the
Corona. Now, if you’ll come with us.
I’ll get Mib. Atony's brother, Joe
Blakeslee, to come as my sister's es
cort, and w r e’ll call it a pleasant little
sextet,’’ came back Jimmie Compton-
Blake’s voice over the phono.
Judith hesitated. All her invita
tions had come from friends of Bon
nie’s. She had never been jealous of
her little sister's overwhelming popu
larity or bitter about her own waxing
beauless years; but to be invited to a
party of Compton-Blnkes and Almys
and Blukeslees touched a romantic
and a snobbish vein, of neither of
which she had over suspected herself.
“I can't go—though I’d love to. My
sister and 1 always have our evening
meal together, Mr. Compton-Blake-
and 1 couldn’t leave Bonnie alone.
Sunday twilight’s such a lonesome
time. Thank you, but I can’t come.”
“I am sorry,” said the pleasant
voice, a trifle coldly.
Judith wondered why hls sextet
could not have been septet, but she
mustered her courage and her loyalty
to Bonnie to meet the occasion. “Will
you come Sunday week?” she asked,
and then had an awful heart-flutter
at the thought of how bold and push
ing the min must think her.
“Indeed. I will.” was the hearty re
sponse. But it did not greatly miti
gate Judy’s feeling that she was a
forward creature who had rather dis
gusted the finest man she knew.
‘‘Mr. Compton Blake can’t come un
til Sunday week,” she told Bonnie
“Good enough!” said her sister,
waving a celery stalk like a triumphal
branch. “Mr. Sidd'ons wants to give
a little dinner at the Roof that night.
He wants me to meet the Towers and
Bess Gardner and a few’ other of the
dancing aristocracy. Now’, I’ll ju»l go
phone him It’s on—and perhaps with
all this notice he can even get Don
Northby—he’s king of them all. you
know—and if he came to a souper
dansant for little Bonnie Mortimer,
she would just about be ’arrived’ in
dancedom. Things do work out so
well /or me—don’t they. Ju?”
“Yes,” said Judy, a trifle faintly.
Supped finished rather quietly—and
Miss Mprtimer’s pupils found her very
dull that night. One of them confided
to another that it was no wonder one
of the sisters was making a brilliant
success up at the Valthorpe, while the
other could only just manage to hold
the pupils the clever one got.
After they had gone and the seem
ingly interminable evening ended.
Judy fairly tore into her room *an<1
flung herself on her bed for ”a
good cry”—but suddenly she got up
again and began bathing her eyes al
most fiercely. “Bonnie isn’t worth it,”
she confided to the stars above the
high studio window. “She isn’t worth
hardly anything at all—to me. 1 go
and refuse a wonderful invitation
from the most splendid person I know
for her, and then, without even an
apology, she calmly leaves me alone. I
suppose she thinks I’m too old to have
feelings or count. But I’ll show her.”
Just what she would show Bonnie
Judy was not quite clear about. But
she went to bed without preparing the
usual cup of chocolate and lettuce
sandwiches for her sister—and rose at
2 to creep out into a chilly kitchenette
to make up the loss.
To Be Continued.
A Study in Human Nature
If We Only ]
Knew the
L ®
# 1 rut
n • «d
Hints for the
Household
U NDER the electric light he stood
smiling, confident.
“Not the hausfrau woman,” he
declared to his audience—Flint Webb.
Not for me. I don’t like those women
who seem to be rushing about the
house, filling salt cellars, stirring stuff
In saucepans, and who supply, studs by
the dozen and kisies by the decimal
fraction. I don't like a woman who al
ways sees there is a third vegetable and
knocks half pennies off the washing bill
and knows seventeen ways of serving
cold mutton hot.”
Flint was amused at him then.
“What sort of a woman do you like?”
“I like a woman with temperament,’’
Gamer replied at once. “One who sits
in the firelight smoking Turkish ciga
rettes and quoting Masefield or DeMus-
set. I like a woman whose clothes are
idiotic, but graceful: who wears silk
6hoes in December and always looks di
vine."
“Crazy,” Webb said, as he poked the
fire. “I didn’t guess you yearned for
powdered smiles and that abandon
which in a Frenchwoman means devil
ment and ip an Englishwoman means a
headach'e for you if you dare to inves
tigate. A sensible woman has her good
points, too. Garner. She doesn’t come
and show you her new hat when you’re
cold.”
"I’ve seen a girl,” Garner murrtiured
from a cozy chair; “one of these girls
one dreams about and seldom sees. My
dear Webb, she is my ideal; she is what
I’ve been looking for for years.”
"More toast racks,” Flint yawned.
“My deaf old chap, you’ve just got
yourself into a sound position, and now
you want a wedding shindy. Y r ou are
beastly, really. You're the third friend
that I’ve had to go under in nine
months, and I’m waiting on tenterhooks
until the time wh6n 1 shall be out buy
ing rattles and wool dogs'with bells
on them, and there is no type of shop
ping 1 hate more.”
"I love little children,” Garner de
clared.
“I don’t,” said Webb sourly. “I’ve
got eleven nephews and nieces, and I’m
tired listening to the parents’ apolo
gies for them. I’d love to meet a man
with enough courage to admit that his
own child can be annoying, oh, I’d hate
to have you dishing around here to tell
me how much it weighed at birth, and
how it got on well until it got the
whooping cough, or nurse upset it with
the sweets I admire men with fami
lies—they are a necessary evil, of
course, but they all start too young.”
“Oh, shut up!” growled Garner. “I
don't want to talk of yOur nieces and
nephews; I want to talk of her."
Webb got out a big cigar, lit it, and
closed his eyes.
“Oh, Lord! What have I dent? Only
last night young Mallock was up here
telling me that some girl he thought
was encouraging him wasn't really and,
when he tried to kiss her. slapped his
face and said she would tell her moth
er. Dear boy, these tender scenes
•atme to all men, and this woman you
call your ideal may not care 2 cents
about you ”
“Oh, she does,” Garner s*tid quickly.
“Why, only yesterday she looked into
my eyes ’’
“I hate those goo-goo girls,” Webb
said, testily. “They irritate me beyond
measure. I hate girls who look at one
with a ‘have-a-chocolate’ manner, and
aren’t happy until they’ve left their
mothers and swum off by themselves.”
Garner decided he had an appoint
ment then. Webb rather depressed him
and he wanted more sympathy with his
condition than he was getting.
« « •
“Is this man, Garner, weli off?” her
mother inquired, as she stitched up a
hole in her blouse.
“Got about $3,000 and a lot of shares,”
said poor Garner’s ideal girl. "He is
rather a commonplace sort of man, and
1 simply hate his laugh, but I might
do worse. There are so few men about
now.”
"You should accept him if you get
the chance,” said her mother wisely.
“If you kept only one maid and did the
cooking yourself you might be able to
keep a little car.”
“It’s such a joke,” said the girl, with
a giggle. “He thinks 1 can’t cook and
am no housekeper. He thinks I have
a ‘temperament’—he told me so last
night.”
“If he'd said you had a temper he’d
have been nearer the mark,” said her
mother with candor. “I don’t like the
man myself, but his position is all
right, and you won’t see so much of
him, as he is at business all day.”
The girl started undressing.
“I slapped young MaJlock’s face yes
terday afternoon, mother. He actually
kissed me at auntle-s. He is a nice
boy, but I don’t think he has a penny
to bless himself with.”
“Y r ou marry Garner and you'll never
regret it,” said her mother.
Garner sat mooning over his pipe be
fore getting into bed that night.
“She is young—and so unworldly,” he
thought.
• • *
Webb’s toast rack cost him $400.
But after that there seemed to be a
frost in the air, and, as he says to young
Mallock, there doesn’t seem much pros
pect of a thaw’, either.
You see. Garner isn’t romantic any
more.
Cabbage should be cut in four pieces
before being placed to soak, and all
vegetables should have their outer
leaves removed. Boil in salted water
with the lid off the saucepan, and keep
the water boiling all the time. Remove
any scum that, rises with a wooden
spoon. An iron ore will spoil the color
of the greens. Then draw carefully and
la-irve on a hot dish.
* • a
To soften a hard sponge cover with
cold water, add a tablespoonful of bo
rax. and bring slowly to the boil in a
clean saucepan. Then remove the
sponge, rub some dry borax into it,
and rinse under the cold tap, allowing
the water to run over it for several
minutes.
* * *
To clean leather chairs, wash with
soapy water, then sponge with a pint
of water In w’hich has been dissolved
a penny packet of dye the color of
the leather. Allow to dry, then brush
over with the white of an egg and polish
with a dry duster.
a a a
New “props" for the clothes line
should be soaked in cold water for a
tew hours to prevent splitting.
a a a
When saucepans are burnt fill with
cold water, and put in a large lump
of soda, allow to stand f6r ope hour,
then bring slowly to the boil. The
burns will then come off easily.
a * *
When boiling milk and custard put
a marble into the saucepan, and the
contents will not burn or stick to the
pan.
Inhuman Monster!
A suspicious rattle, as of crockery in
contact with crockery, had awakened
Mrs. Cook
“George—George," she whispered
under her breath, “wake up quick!
There must be burglars in the nouse
eating all the cakes I have just made
for your birthday!”
For a moment George’s face assumed
an awed expression, then, evidently as
sured as to his safety, he settled down
again.”
“Let ’em!" he muttered. “What does
it matter to us anyway, as long as they
don't die in the house!”
Sound Counsel.
The successful man of business was
giving his son sound advice.
“My boy,” said he. "whatever you
do. don't brag.”
• No father.” said the young man,
dutifully.
“At icast, not until after you have
done it.”
“And then?”
“Then,” said the father slowly, “if
you were clever enough to do it really
well, you will be clever enough to know
that it’s not worth bragging about.”
Wanted Her Chance.
When all were seated around the
breakfast table. mother suddenly
thought of something she wanted to say.
“Oh, last night,” she exclaimed,
glancing across at her pretty eighteen-
year-old daughter, “as I passed the
drawing room door I heard something
distinctly like a kiss! Now ”
“But mother,” interrupted the fair
one, “do you think ”
“Now, don’t try to deny it," broke in
mother. “I distinctly heard you, and I
consider it most improper of you to let
a young man kiss you until you
married.”
“Oh, mother,’’ exclaimed the daugh
ter, pathetically, “I want to be kissed
some time!”
Picked Up Here and There
Old Mrs. Higgins was an incurable
grumbler. She grumbled at every
thing and everybody.
The vicar had determined to try
and find something about which she
had no complaint. He thought he
had found it in the old lady’s crop
of potatoes, which was the finest for
miles round.
“Ah, for once you must be well
pleased,” he said, with a beaming
smile, as he met her in the village
street. “Everybody’s saying how
splendid your potatoes are this year.”
The old lady glowered at him as she
answered:
“They’re not so poor. But where’s
the bad ones tfor the pigs?”
“One Si Haskins,” says a retired
Brigadier-General, “decided to enlist.
He burned with a desire to serve his
country, bo he applied at a recruiting
office, and was duly punched and prod
ded, trotted up and down. Jumped over
chairs and tables, and so forth.
“Then came the questions. All man
ner of them were fired at him, and he
answered most of them satisfactorily.
Then came the stern inquiry:
“ ‘Have you ever served a jail sen
tence?’
“ 'N-o. sir.' stammered Si; 'but.' hei
added hastily, ‘I'd be willing to serve a
short one, if it’s necessary.’ “
The tourist had dropped into a small
restaurant in a tiny country town arid
commenced to lunch on a meat pattv
a comestible for which the establish
ment was noted. But at first bite he
complained about the crust.
The proprietor, astounded at any one
not liking his patties, said, angrily:
“Young man, T was making patties
before you were born.”
“That so?” replied the tourist. “Then
I suppose this is one of the first you
ever made.’*
&
zO$;
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If you bare tried “Internal” medicines
without success, we want you to try the ]
"External” treatment — Vick’s “Vap-O-
Rub” Salve. Apply hot wet towels over
the throat and chest to open the pores, then
rub Vick’s in well and cover with a warm
flannel cloth. The body warmth releases
healing vapors that are inhaled with each
breath and, in addition, Vick’* is absorbed
through the pores. 26c, 50c, or $1.00.
GENUINE HAS THIS TRADE MARK
Vapo^uB”
VICK’S S2 SALVE
W HEN you put a package of Faust
Spaghetti in your market basket, you
don’t need to give very much thought to
meat, because in Faust Spaghetti you have
nutrition enough to enable you to cut down
materially on meat. Ask your physician
on this point.
Large Package
10c
Ever try a whole meal on Faust Spaghetti,
cooked with tomatoes? Costs 10c for a
family meal—takes but 30 minutes to
prepare, and makes mighty fme and sub
stantial eating.
MAULL BROS., St. Louis, U. S. A.