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Read “THE GODDESS£/?e Big, New Serial, Here Day by Day, Then See It in the Motion Pictures
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77/ /. GODDESS
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The Serial Beautiful
By GOUVERNEUR MORRIS and CHARLES GODDARD
By Gouverneur Morri*
and
Charles W. Goddard.
(Copyright. )f]5. by Star Comrar? )
CHAPTER VIII
T O rescue the irlrl who railed her
self Celestia from Professor
Stilllter had been the work of
instants and impulse. Rut what to
do next was not to be derided without
plenty of reflection. Reflection did
not come easily to Tommy, however,
especially in the present rircum-
stances. For any train of logical
thought upon which he tried to get
started was coon interrupted, either
by a stolen look at his companion, the
necessity of hejping her past some
roifrh place, or by some naive ques
tion or other which she would ask
from time to time
He could not make her out at all to
his satisfaction. At one moment she
seemed perfectly sane, at the next
completely mad The only things of
which he felt certain were that she
was beautiful and good and that she
was suffering from some form of
amnesia by which her powers of
memory had been undermined.
“How long have you known that
man?" he asked, referring, of course,
to Professor Stilllter.
“Not eo long as I have known you,
but sometimes I feel as if I had seen
you both before. Rut I can’t ever
have seen you. can I? You can’t ever
have been in heaven and I’ve never
been on earth.”
"If you were seeing him for the
first time, why were you afraid of
him?”
“For the same reason that I'm not
afraid of you ”
“And you’re not—not a bit?”
“He," said she, simply, “is bad and
ugly. You are good and beautiful.”
As Tommy guided her through the
woods toward his camping ground of
the preceding night, he kept saying to
Rut there’s got to be
i. What am I to do
himself
show-down
about her?"
He almost wished that he had not
taken her away from Stilllter, but had
instead stayed with them, dogged
their footsteps from place to place
until he was sure that the girl was
In no real danger from the psycholo
gist. Indeed, he was in a state of
great mental perplexity, and at the
same time there was a novel and ro
mantic quality to the episode that he
could not but* enjrfy.
“If only." he thought, “I might play
around with her for the rest of fhe
day and then turn her over to her
proper guardians and have no fur
ther responsibility, I’d ask nothing
better.”
They came to a black pool of rain
water. Before Tommy could prevent.
Celestia had stepped upon the sur
face. as if upon a solid pavement, and
gone in above the knee.
She gave a little cry of amused as
tonishment.
“Why, it’s—it’s “ she cried.
“Yes." said Tommy; “it’s wet water.
You appeared to think it was a board
walk. But never mind, you’ll soon
dry out. Don't they have water in
heaven?”
“Of course; but not black and still
like that In heaven it’s all alive
with rainbow's In it.“
“They speak English in heaven?"
“Oh. yes. and French and Italian
and Spanish and German and Ameri
can and all the others."
"(’an you speak them all?”
"Of course What good could I do
on earth if 1 couldn’t talk to people?”
“Just what good are you going to
do?”
"I’m going to tell people to be better
and not so foolish, and they are to do
i t tell them.”
"That’s a splendid idea," said Tom
my, feeling that it was best to humor
her, “and then what?”
“Then? Why. tf’hen I’ve made ev-
fr*‘
M:a
;rsfcr
■ *
Zoe—The Story of
Hopeless Love
“Y
(Copyright. AMorltled N*w»p«p«»r», Ltd. I
r*«i r.fhu in t B. A.' *> , <1 by lnlem«tlonal New*
re.)
(By CORALIE STANTON and .
HEATH HOSKEN.)
“But what have I done?"
“Who is that woman?” she asked,
with sudden irrelevance. “The wom
an you were with?”
Olt mean Mrs Brooke?" he
sa id carelessly.
“Mrs. Brooks? So that’s
her name? Who is she? The girl
spoke with Jealous, almost hysteric
anger. "Who is she? What is she?
Tell me, Noel Don't try to deceive
me, for I shall And out.” Her blue
eyes blazed. She was transformed.
Just then, to the horror of the man.
she looked something like Zoe—Zoe,
who was fighting for him. Just as Eva
was fighting But he answered
calmly:
"She is Mrs. Brooke. Godfrey
Brooke’s wife"
“The Godfrey Brooke?”
“Yes. We are old friends—I mean
Brooke and I. He has been very good
to me. Why, you know' how often l
have told you of what he has done. 1
owe something to him."
"But you never told me that he had
,ft wife ”
1 “1 didn’t know till yesterday," an-
•wered Crawley lugubriously.
The girl looked at him with jealous
Suspicion. She wanted to believe him
and trust him She wanted to ever so
much. Yet there was something she
could no: understand.
“I hate her!” she said fiercely. “I
hate her!"
“But why?"
“I don't know; but I do." Again that
look so painfully reminiscent of Zoe
came into her eyes, and the man
looked away. It was a look he was
not strong enough to face. Zoe had
frightened him; Eva alarmed him
even more He sought a weak refuge
In coaxing her into a reasonable
frame of mind; but the girl was not
to be thus easily cajoled.
'Tell me," she said, “where did you
go after you left the Blush Rose?"
She had suddenly adopted the attit-
tude of a cross-examining counsel;
but Crawley remembered Mrs. Bal-
shaw and Mrs. Bals'haw’s reputation.
“Why do you ask?” he said.
She shrugged her shoulders "Be
cause I want to know,” she replied.
“You already know, if I am not
mistaken,” he answered diplomatical
ly. “I hope Mrs. Ralshaw did not
add too much embroidery Really.
Eva. this ir not like you.’* The man
was asserting himself.
“Why did von drive her to your
studio?" she asked, with childish in
sistency.
“To show her a picture.” he lied
promptly. He had realized that a
bold and unwavering front mfn-t be
presented to her attack
“And was she so much m«>re at
tractive thsn—than I?"
"Eva!"
“But I asked you. and you said you
had an important engagement,
and "
“So I had." i
“With Mrs. Brooke?”
f “No. of course not.” He grew bolder
and more virtuously Indignant.
“Who was it. then?"
“Her husband.’' he answered, with
out a moment’s hesitation Rut the
girl looked puzzled, though little by
little a look of profound relief was
settling upon her. “You see. little
goose,” he went on. "It was !ik*» this.
Just after I left you I met Mr. and
Mrs. Brooke, and “
"I don’t want to know. Noel" she
burst out “I—I am foolish T don't
ow what I have been saying; but
somehow or other I have been so
miserable. 1 suppose I am very
wicked, but I can’t help It. I am
jealous, and—and oh, Noel, say you
love me! St»y there Is no one else!”
And th»*n she burst Into a w'ild and
uncontrolled sobbing, and the man
caught her in his arms and covered
her hair with kiss4s And this /time
she did not drag Herself away from
his arms.
When Lady Warren returned with
two of her women friends in her elec
trie landuulette she found Eva and
Noel in the morning room, on the best
of terms with each other. As a mat
ter of fact, she had not given them a
thought since she left them until she
had reached Curzon street again;
then, it is true, she experienced a
twinge of apprehension; but it was
dissipated as soon as she saw Eva’s
radiant face. The storm-cloud had
passed, und the min shone again.
That was her philosophic conclusion.
We are having eight to lunch.
Noel." exclaimed Lady Warren. “I
think you know everyone."
Noel did. and enjoyed himself im
mensely. despite the fact hat he had
to watch Eva making herself very
agreeable to a bronzed young sailor
man at the other end of the table,
while he was trying valiantly to do his
duty by a very prosy old lady who had
been allotted to him.
It was 4 o’clock before he took his
leave, and he had promised to be ba*'k
again for early dinner and to take
Lady Warren and his fiancee to the
theater afterward.
He walked back to Grosvenor road
and was met by Hutton with several
telegrams.
“I didn’t know' where you were, sir,”
said the man. "1 telephoned to the
Orlan, but you’d gone. There are three
telegrams and Mr. Leveredge has sent
two. He Is very anxious to see you.
sir; says it’s most important and
would you telephone him the moment
you arrived."
“All right.” said Crawley as he took
the telegrams. Then a Curiously grim
smile crossed his face. So the blow
had fallen. Leveredge had discovered
the whole thing! He shrugged his
shoulders. He glanced at the tele
grams. The first was from Leveredge
“Please come round here at once.
Most important.” I
The second, too, was from the i^ate
picture dealer, as follows:
"Unless you see me immediately. 1
hold myself at liberty to take legal
action Reply paid."
But the third was from Brooke, and
read;
Hear you have tmt gone to Paris.
Come down to Hatchington to-night.
Wire train. No excuse. Brooke.”
"There are several telephonic mes
sages, too. sir.” explained Hutton. “Mr.
Leveredge has been telephoning all
day.”
“What does he say?” asked Craw
ley. curiously.
“Well. sir. he seems very upset
about something or other." answered
Hutton. “1 couldn't quite make ou*.
It's something to do with the picture,
sir.”
“He didn’t go into details, then?”
"No. sir ”
“Swore a bit, I suppose?”
Hutton smiled discreetly. "Well,
he’s rather partial to that. sir. Isn't
he° I must confess he did swear Just
a little, and he spoke of the police,
too. sir ” Hutton looked with furtive
anxiety at his master. As a matter
of fact, he was very troubled, despite
his matter's apparent coolness and
contempt.
"I'll ring him up." Crawley said, and
strode off to the telephone; but as he
was trying to get connected the door
bell rang, and a few moments after
ward Mr. Leveredge's soft, lisping
voice sounded in the hall.
(To Be Continued.)
THE GODDESS—the Serial Beautiful—writtei
by two famous authors and presented by the Hearstr
newspapers in collaboration with the renowned Vita-*
graph Players:
Miss Anita Stewart as the Goddess.
'Mr. Earl Williams as Tommy Barclay.
Be sure to read each installment carefully, and<
then see the character^ and the thrilling incidents $
V
spring to life in the motion pictures.
In Our Wonderful
World
N EXT to air, water, and food, there
is probably nothing more es
sential to man's existence In the
way civilization prescribes than cotton.
A bit of the "irony of the gods" is
found in the fact that while war has
demoralised the cotton industry, yet
without cotton there could be no war.
Not a single modern gun could be fired,
not • battleship sail nor an army be
put In motion without thts wonderful
product of the modest cotton plant, for
its fruit is the basis of all high explo
sives and sn^okeless powder. A war
ship is a floating cotton mill, from the
suits of its Jack Tars to the grim shells
ready as fuel for the mighty guns that
make modern warfare so terrible.
The belief is held by many high au
thorities that sugar helps to waid off
fatigue. Consumed in fairly large quan
tities, it acts rapidly, its full effect being
felt about two hours after taking it.
Scientific experiments carried out wtlh
the aid of the ergograph, an instiument
for registering accurately variations of
muscular power, show that sugar gives
an increase of physical power ranging
from t>0 to 7per cent.
The .authorities of Nice are making
use of two large plants for purifying
water on the Paris Otto ozone syBtem.
First there was erected an ozone ster
ilizing plant at Bon Voyage, which
handled six hundred ami seventy-five
thousand cubic feet per day and. as this
was found to be most successful, the
next step was to put in a second works
at Kimtez, and at the present time the
city is entirely supplied by ozone-ster
ilized water.
The only source for the supply of
potash to the British Isles, in addition
to the imports of niter from India, is
the potash made from Irish and Scottish
kelp. The Irish kelpburning industry
has almost disappeared in recent , years
owing to other sources being tapped for
the supply of iodine.
Among the hospital applications of
electricity in the war is reported the
sterilizing of wounds by zinc. A pad
wet with zinc sulphide i/ placed on the
wound, and. being connected to the
positive pole of a battery, is said to
make the surrounding tissues antisep
tic by zinc particles forced into them.
The method, pronounced efficient and
speedy wherever available, has a con
siderable disadvantage in its cost.
Experience lias shown that the end of
a bar of steel that has been broken off
should never be used for the working
or cutting end of a die or punch. The
fibers in the end of such a bar have
been so severely strained in breaking
that the steel is unsuitable for perform
ing the work done by a punch or die.
The Value of Experience.
In a certain factory there was a ma
chine which had been In the charge
of one man for twelve years. Every
time the machine broke down he had
patched It up until little of the original
was left. For an indiscretion the man
was discharged, and the machine, being
placed under the control of an inexperi
enced hand, stopped. All efforts to re
start It were in vain, and eventually the
old employe was sent for temporarily to
start the machine. With the aid of a
hammer and the readjustment of a
strap he sat the machine going 5 min
utes after his arrival. Then he sent in
an account for $25. The manager, con-
siderine that the job had occupied only
a few minutes, thought the demand ex
tortionate. and requested the workman
to make out his bill In detail. Accord
ingly the account was returned worded
in this fashion; “To starring the ma
chine. 25 cents, to knowing how to do
so, $24.75.'*
Celestia stepped into the water and went in above her knees.
erybody rich and happy I’ll go back
to heaven, of course, and be happy,
too."
“Are you unhappy now?"
“No; not unhappy, but if I were
bark in heaven I wouldn't be all wet
and muddy and hungry and thirsty,
would I?"
“Of course you wouldn’t, you poor
child." said Tommy; “but soon we’ll
be at my camp, and then I’ll hustle
around and make you comfortable."
"And I feel as if my face were on
fire, too," she complained.
“Feverish," thought Tommy with
dismay. And then he said:
“Stand still a moment and let me
look.”
He noticed for the first time the
extraordinary whiteness and delicacy
of her skin. It was as if she had al
ways been veiled from the sun.
“You're getting sunburnt." he said,
with concern. ’That’s what’s the
matter.”
“Oh, the sun!" she cried. “The sun!
Do show it tome! I’ve heard so much
about it.”
“Isn’t there any in heaven?”
“How you talk! Why, heaven is so
far off! ”
“Well," said Tommy, pointing,
“that’s it!”
“That?” exclaimed Celestia—but
she could not look the sun in the face
for more than a fraction of a second.
“That!” and she burst into laugh
ing.
“Do you know what I thought that
was?” she said.
“What?”
“Why, I thought, of course, that
that was the gate to hell. And ao
that's the sun, and it’s burning my
■face?”
She touched her face with her fin
gers and then looked at their tips as
if expecting that the burn had come
off on them.
“I’ve got some stuff at my camp
that will take the burn out,” sal#
Tommy. “Look out for that green
stuff. It’s got thorns, and you can’t
afford to tear that dress.”
They had begun to climb the emi
nence on which Tommy’s camp was
perched, and with every step Celestia
showed increasing fatigue. He walk
ed a little behind and at one side, now
helping her forward and upward with
an occasional touch of the hand be
tween her shoulders and now with a
steadily maintained pressure.
“Of course, I’m not used to walk
ing,” she said. “I'm sorry. I suppose
I’ll get used to it."
“If you are determined to push on
to New York, you will,” said Tommy.
His quick ears caught the sudden
appetizing cluck of a partridge.
(To Bo Continued.)
(See “The Goddein motion pic
ture at Alamo No. 2 theater on Tues
day*.)
The Operator
® Unknown ®
T
HERE had been a concert down
on the third-class deck, and Miss
Lewsone had divided her atten
tion between the music and the dark
water gliding past. It was one of those
nights sometimes encountered two or
three days either side of the line—sul
try and oppressive, without a sign of
air even from the way of the ship—and
the saloon passengers were uneasily
contemplating a hot sojourn in their
staterooms in spite of electric fans and
open portholes.
The ship's doctor came strolling round
the afterdeck, and he hurried his steps
when he saw Miss Lewsone. She was a
universal favorite on the Waltapu and
the cause of much speculation among
the passengers. For where is gossip
more rife than aboard ship?
“Still the old fascination of the
water?" said the doctor genially as he
leaned by her side.
“Yes," she replied, with a pleasant
smile, "It always fascinates me. To
night now it looks not so much like oil
as black glass or Ice we're cutting
through. And those gleams of phos
phorus. aren’t they beautiful?”
They passed to other subjects, and
were discussing an absurdly trivial in
cident which had loomed up large in the
narrow environment of the Waitapu,
when a steward approached to summon
the doctor to a case, and with a reluc
tant "Good night,” he left her.
fThe captain was trotting up an un
usually stiff score at piquet with his
partner, an irascible cavalry major,
when the wireless operator stepped Into
the smoking room and removed his cap
as he sought his superior. The major
retired to bed.
Captain Lawson read the message
with a puckered brow and glanced
quickly up at the young man standing
by his side.
"What's the use of bringing me a
message like this?” said the captain
sharply. “It's gibberish. You must
have taken It down in your sleep. Send
out another call and bring me the an
swer—to my room. What's the mat
ter?" for the youth seemed to sway.
"Nothing sir,” he answered, passing
his hand, which .shook, over his wet
forehead. “There's a lot of electricity
about, and it always interferes. I have
not been asleep, sir, and I’ve been
trying to get a message for a long time.
1 can’t make it out, except the words
‘danger’ and 'right ahead.’ ”
“Couldn't you get the name) of the
ship?” said the captain, eying him
closely.
“No. sir. except the Barry some
thing.'
“Now, look here, my lad. you go up
and get that message properly. 'Dan
ger' and ‘right ahead' is a serious com
munication. and I must know what it
means. There is no boat with 'Barry'
to her name knocking around these
latitudes, except the old 'Barrymore,'
which was lost in a 'pampero' years ago.
Up you go, and keep awake this time.''
Inwardly a little perturbed, the cap
tain mounted to his room, sending for
the chief officer as he did so, and to
gether the two men discussed the pos
sibilities of the flimsy piece of paper.
“He's a long time,'* exclaimed law-
son, at last. “Ring him up, Norris—
or no. better run up and see what re
sult he's got.”
“Right, sir,” and the officer stepped
out into the night.
In less than a minute the telephone
bell rang sharply. "Can you come.
sir?” said Norris' voice. “Something’s
wrong here.”
The captain entered the wireless room
briskly to find Norrts with a puzzled
face, contemplating the young operator,
whose* head lay on the desk in front
of him. his hands hanging limp and
Inert at his sides.
“I've sent for ‘Pills,’ ” Norris whis
pered.
The doctor came In hastily as the cap
tain lifted the heavy head to extract the
paper upon which It rested.
“What’s up?” asked Tansett. as he
approached the quiet figure. He bent
and listened to the young man's heart,
and then raised one of the still hands.
Lawson In the meantime had read the
message quickly and handed it to Nor
ris with a few terse words, at which
that officer hurried away muttering.
"Extraordinary—it beats me altogeth
er!”
“Is it a shock or drink?” asked the
captain briefly of Tansett.
“Neither.’• answered the doctor
quietly as he busied himself with the
young man’s collar; then, raising him
in his arms, he placed him easily in
the bunk. “It is a bad kind of faint
or else a sort of trance. Perhaps he
Is susceptible to atmospheric conditions.
I've khoW’n that, but it is queer all the
same.”
“It is queer.” returned the captain,
who rather liked Tansett, and there
fore unbent when w r ith him. “And
queerer still, because of the wii'eless he
has just taken down. It was a bit •co
herent, but with sense enough this time
to put us on our guard. He got some
thing of it before—about an hour ago—
but it was quite unintelligible to me.
and I told him to try again. Anyhow, it
appears a ship called the 'Barry some
thing' warns us of a derelict right in our
course, I can't read the whereabouts,
that’s noK decipherable, but we can
keep a sharp lookout."
So saying, he strode out on the deck
a vivid flash lighting up his heavy form
for a moment as l\e passed beyond the
doorway.
Still thoughtful, Dr. Tansett forebore
to call a steward and stood by the little’
desk, his mind busy with all sorts of
solutions to the problem. He was ever
afterward glad he did not l&ive the.
room, for, to his amazement, tne young
man rose feebly from the bunk, seated
himself with an effort upon the swing
chair, fixed the receiver to his ears,
and, with his hand on the apparatus,
waited.
In a flash the doctor knew that the
operator was quite unconscious of his
presence; his eyes were curiously fixed
and cast upward in an agony of suspense,
as I? were, in expectation. Then the in
strument began its curious ticking whir,
and the small, dark fingers of the opera
tor tapped out is pregnant message.
Fascinated, the doctor watched him,
scarcely venturing to breathe, until the
lad pulled the big crank at his side and
prepared to wTite on paper before him.
Strangely enough he now displayed
every appearance of stealth, covering
the movement of the pencil with his
left palm, and tearing his work in two
with a quick gesture when he had fin
ished. But It was not before the doc
tor. leaning forward, had seen the one
word.
It was "Barrymore.’’
.Almost immediately the youth climbed
back into the hunk, and. giving a deep
sigh, as though freed from a load of
care, sank on the pillow into a pro
found sleep, and Tansett, after one
glance at his face, knew the trance was
over.
It was a night of watchfulness and
anxiety to the waiting few who knew
the contents of the mysterious wireless.
Tansett. unable to rest, paced, with the
second officer, on the officer's deck; the
captain loomed big on the bridge above,
and Norris had long since taken up his
position at the bows.
The lightning, which was dying away,
gave an occasional fierce flicker, show
ing savage but far-distant clouds, and
the air was gratefully chill, presaging
• he dawn. There was a stilliness, ana
they spoke in whispers, as if fearing
to disturb a dangerous thing.
Then as light warred the darkness
they saw it—the ghost and menace of
the sea, the derelict. But a short half-
mile away, she swayed and wallowed to
every wave, forlorn and lonely, hated
of all sailormen, doomed to wander un
til a storm engulfed her or the guns of
a passing man-of-war sent her to the
bottom.
The Waitapu passed her swiftly in the
grayness, but there was more than or
dinary solemnity in the sight of her
because of th^'tvarning, which had come
so providentially and strangely out of
the void.
“Confounded thing!” said the second
officer, relieving his feeling In profanity.
“Poor thing!” murmured the doctor,
gazing through his glasses at the mast
less broken ruin fast receding in their
wake.
“How is Marconi?” It was th# cap
tain's voice, lye had come noiselessly
down from the bridge.
“Sleeping like an infant,’’ said Tan
sett.
“Nothing further to report, then?"
“Nothing, except this,” answered the
doctor, quietly handing Lawson two
scraps of paper—unofficial paper, as it
happened; not the usual wireless form.
The captain took them to his room,
and in a momem’s lapse emerged again.
Tansett was still on the little isolated
deck exclusive to the commander and
officers, familiarly termed the “monkey
house," but he was preparing to descend
to the waist of the ship. The second
officer had hurried to his berth to catch
an hour’s sleep before his watch and the
two men were alone.
“How did you get this?’’ demanded
Lawson.
“Why, oddly enough. 'Sparks’ got up
from his bunk while 1 was watching.
He was quite unconscious—it ^ was a
trance, as I said—and tapped off this
word, wrote it down and afterward tore
pp the paper. Does it help at all to un
ravel things?’’
“Help me! My God, man. It is a mes
sage from the dead! Barrymore was
' lost off this coast years ago in a
'pamperno,’ long before the wireless was
used. She has either been hidden in an
unknown *creek, by some convulsion
blown out of it, or, but that is impos
sible. the sea has belched her up."
"And we have been warned," said the
doctor, in low tones, passing over the
other's hesitancy.
“By an operator -unknown,” returned
the captain, equally low.
"Say, rather, by the Greatest of all
Operators," answered the doctor. And
both men lifted their caps, standing
bareheaded in the first pink flush of
day.
Six-Cylinder Living
What It Leads To and How Foolish It Is.
By BEATRICE FAIRFAX.
T HE thirst for excitement is as
dangerous an appetite as the
craving for strong liquor. The
longing for gayety, for amusement, for
the stimulation of bright lights and
giddy throngs is the disect cause for
the downfall of a dishearteningly large
number of boys and girls.
Each week brings me numerous let
ters from boys and girls who are on
the verge of leaving home because their
parents deny them the freedom and so
cial opportunity they think their youth
ful due.
Once youth tastes the strong wine of
artificial gayety it longs to sip again.
At first curiosity impels—then a taste
is cultivated, and then the strength of
habit and custom steps in. Youth does
not know enough to discriminate. Youth,
elated at its success and popularity,
does not see the wisdom of early de
parture and healthful long hours of
sleep. Parents know how hideously the
longing for innocent amusement deterio
rates into the wild craving for amuse
ment of any kind.
The drug habit is not formed over
night. It claims its victims by slow
stages. And its victims are not fore
ordained outcasts from homes of pov
erty and hereditary degradation. They
are all too often men and women who
were once as sane, as decent, as law-
abiding as you and I!
So with any appetite that masters
you. Drugs, drink, the craving for
pleasure all go hand in hand—all pro
duce the same dreadful effects.
A trusted employee just sent to pris
on for robbing the employer who was
also his friend, confessed that his own
fall was due to longrng for gayety at
any price. He sums up his fall in
these words: “The night life of New
York completed my downfall. I began
to drink. Then came fast company.
But my love for my wife and babies
never died. IT WAS MERELY THAT
THE LURE OF LIQUOR AND THE
SIX-CYLINDER LIFE OF BROADWAY
WAS STRONGER.”
The ability to find pleasure in kind
ness and friendship and the big, whole
some outdoors and work well done and
duty well performed and the love of
beauty is a God-given gift. Hunt for
a spark of it in your own nature and
cultivate it as a talisman against the
fever phantom of unrest that pursues
and destroys Youth and Conscience to
day.
Love in the Novels
J UST the being with someone whom
you love and know loves you
gives a feeling of rest and com
fort.—"Time o’ Day," by Doris Eger-
ton Jones,
A honeymoon produces more lies to
the square minute than any other pe
riod of a person’s life.—“The Thirty-
Days,” by Hubert Wales.
The art of Life is to be kind, to en
deavor to look at everything from the
point of view of the other fellow, to
be more eager to give than to receive,
to love one’s neighbor and to be the
protector of the weak and helpless,
whether they be little children or the
flowers that grow by the wayside.—
Sidney Dark.
There is nothing a woman dislikes
so much as being mistrusted. If there
is no reason for mistrust, it is worry
ing; but if there is a good reason for
it it is positively insulting.—“Fetters
of the Past.” by Helen Colebrooke.
That is the difference between a.
man and a woman. He loves before
marriage and she does not love till
after. The woman feels affection and
esteem before marriage and the man
feels affection and esteem after.—
"The Pastor's Wife,” by the author
of "Elizabeth and Her German Gar
den.”
The foundation stone of nine novels
out of ten is a woman, aftd the coping
stone thereof is love made perfect.—•
"A Knight on Wheels," by Ian Hay.
Household Suggestions
An Enforced Purchase.
A dandy went into a photographer’s
in a country town to get his photo
graph taken. When the job was done
he refused to pay on the ground that
the picture was, not like him.
“All right." said Pat. “Leave it
there ”
Next day he was passing the place
and^saw his picture in a showcase, and
under it were the words In big letters:
“The ugliest mug in town "
1+e rushed in and abused Pat.
“But. me man." said Pat. “yester
day ye said the picture was not like
vou, so you have no reason to com
plain.”
Pat sold him the photograph.
To take out iron rust, dip the spot
into a strong solution of tartaric acid
and expose to the sunshine. When dry
wash the article with warm soap suds,
rub the stain with ripe tomato juice,
expose to the sunshine again, and when
the stain is nearly dry wash in more
suds.
• • •
When boiling old potatoes add a little
milk to the water in which they are
boiled. Besides improving the flavor
this prevents them from turning dark
in the cooking.
* • •
Don't peel apples for apple sauce.
Wipe them well, cut up without peeling,
add water, and cook till thoroughly soft,
then rub the pulp through a coarse
sieVe.
• * •
Lace that is desired to have an “old
lace" shade will soon do so if after
washing it is dipped in the water pota
toes have been boiled in; care must be
taken not to get this too stiff
* ♦ *
For waterproofing hoots and shoes,
equal quantities of white wax. olive oil.
and rectified lard, melted down, make
an excellent mixture, but a little oil of
turpentine should also be added.
* • •
prevent any shade of blua front
fading soak for two hours in a pail of
water, to which one ounce of sugar of
lead has been added. Then be sure to
dry well before washing and ironing.
• • •
To make smelling salts, procure at\
ounce of rock volatile and break it Into
small pieces. Put It into the bottle, and
then cover it with eau-de-cologne. Let
it stand for a few days, and it is ready
for use.
A Cutting Remark.
— A^witty Irishman was once invited to
a large dinner party in Dublin in the
hope that he would amuse his host's
guests. But from the beginning to the
end of the dinner he preserved a solemn
face The host thought this strange.
“Why. old fellow,” he remarked. “I
don’t believe the biggest fool in Ire
land could make you laugh to-night.”
Try,” was the wit s cutting re
joinder.
