Newspaper Page Text
It Is Wonderful How Even the Apparent Casualties of Life Yield to Assist a Design Atter Having Attempted to Frustrate It
2 | 5
THE GEORGIANS MAGAZINE PAGE—
It's All in the
¢ Game 3
MU the tonme silonce Stting 10 @
A chimas the ace of hearts mads
a trigmphant spieafande s
the favsle nlie
Thiee wears exed bt Avted i
odiy gpenial mMariners, sepprvasing -
eheer made uneanyifcing L
thetic wmolses n Thely thf ot e \
fourth Bive- jersesed figure reclining
in his bunk, leaned up on one P
e eschange ovular nn.tllxs.al%ma”
with R chipmmates 1
A landmman, leaning bR s his
eatl blinked malesoientiy 8t ihe Ring
of hearts he had put down s s womn i
dently & momen! age, and gradus by |
Pecame immersed in the mares n'l
mental arthmetic |
“That's fnished he stated Ml
last, with prefound gloom That's
the jot’
“lack o the game™ airily onnr‘
martsed Mr Sam Parkin "It might
Just as easily have been the other
was |
The mariners. returning o the
fo'e'wie, artiessly induiged their joy
in the success of the evening’s diver
slon. honestly attributing much of
thelr success to the peculiar secret
virtues of thelr pack of cards. A Tair
Mdeuflnmdod o
the admirable esplonage work pu-‘
formed from his bunk by the re.
cumbent ook
- . - - . -
The next evening. when work was
done, with the exception of the cook,
they were free to employ themseives
an they desired. The cook, sent on "
foraging expedition by the skipper,
promised to be back at the earilest
moment
“And you can leave it to me 0
bring back a nice, plump card-player
with me,” he promised. as he took his
departure.
It was & promise he did not mm-l
dlately fulfill, and his shipmates, al-|
geady gathered in readiness round
the fo'c's’le table, began 1o be impa
tient.
“Paking a long time like this!”
growied Mr. Parkin. “Wasting money
for us, that's what ‘e's doing. We
ought 1o ‘ave started playing a long
time ago.”
“Tell you what!” suggested Mr.
Forder; “we won't walt for “im any
jonger. I'll alip uptown and find
someone to make a fourth. If cookle
brings back someone, too, so much
the better; there’ll be twice the profit
soing.”
Mr. Forder, accordingly, hurried
from the ship and went in search of
= right, careless type of sportsman.
y had he departed, than the
cook returned, triumphantly bring
= in convoy a big. jovial man of
) age with a most promising
“and alluring gold watchehpin.
“Mr. ‘Enry Turling,” he announced,
introducing the newcomer. “A gent
I've just met, and ‘oo says ‘e’d like to
‘_n in a little game of cards with
us.
“That's the idea,” admitted Mr.
Turling. “1 like a flutter now and
then. Just a jolly game, and no
whining nbog.t losses or crowing over
winning—eh*
Mr. Marlow and Mr. Parkin
w the cook's glance, and pald
vate tribute for his acumen
in J;!n( such a guest. Without
more ado, the cards were reproduced.
~ “They're—~they're rather. a old
mpolodud Mr. Parkin, a little
. y.
~ “"So long as they ain't marked,”
returned Mr, Turling. And
hu’h‘d delightedly at
_the absurdity of the -ur.:e]mou.
. was accorded a seat,
the umn disposed themselves
round the table.
| “O-ob!” shouted the cook sud
-39.;« neuralgy, cookie?” asked
- Mr. Parkin, comprehending.
“Yes; it's come on again, awful
“I'm afraid you'll ‘ave to leave me
‘out. I'll lay down for a bit; it's al
*W when 1 lays down.”
with he crawled onto the
_bunk at the rear of Mr. Turling's
‘fi.tfl" sald Mr, Parkin. “Well,
we'll just make it a three-'anded
game till Bob Forder comes back.
:’
L%
I:"L‘- |
TN
e AN
l‘ / \
g\ ’;
Ashamed of her
-
bad complexion
If you, too, are embarrassed by a
pimply, blotchy, unsightly complex
ion, nine chances out of ten
Resinol Soa
- -
will clear it
Just tr¥' Resinol Soap for a week
and see if it does not make a blessed
difference in your skin. It also
helps to make red, rough hands and
arms soft and white.
In severe or stubborn cases, Resinol Soap
should be aided by a litle Resinol Ointment.
Rothare sold byall Druggists. For trial free,
write to Dept. 1-P, Resinol, Baltimore, Md.
A Hamorous Shert Stery
gt * hesiwo s Bisn hack any timme
Vs gl Fune sahlfe on B -
» fivate Buas'sees
Yhe visitor making o demar, the
game sas staried The 00l & Ban
raletn abating iiself, he was present
y able 1o lvan ap and take & wateh
ful terest in the prceedings. After
the Brst five minutes vk went stead
iy against Mr. Turling
About half an hour later, Mr. Ford
v. having falled in his quest, cams
ack 10 the fe'c'yie He accepted
at reduction to Mr. Turling and
st down stralghtaway to the game
A glance at the winnings beside My
Parkin and Mr. Mariow gave point
to bis expressed regret for not hav
rg relurned sooner
Hut presestly 1 was obviogs that
something was perplexing Mr. Forder
‘lI- kept glancing at the visiter and
glancing thoughtfully anay again
| "F'm sure I've come across you be
‘t--n- somew here he remarked al
Hant
. “And your face is famillar te me~
[uu Mr. Turling. “Walt a bit. Ah,
Now I remember’' About seven
monihs age'” he prompled “In
High streef. Thep, next morning at
the town ‘all
l “That's U™ agreed Mr Vorder,
lu;m.u dismased
| “No l-will, 1 ‘epe?™ asked Mr
Tugling propitiatingly “It was my
dooty, you know. ™ |
“That's all right,” mumbled Mr. |
Forder
The game continued, but Mr,
Forder was piainly 1l at ease. Soon,
in pretended response (o shout
‘M pretended to have heard, he
withdrew to the deck, snd a moment
later he returned to his shipmates
with the statement that the skippoer
required the presence of all of them.
“It's only for a minute,” he ex
plained to Mr. Turling. “You just
stay where you are. We'll be back
in ‘alf a tick, and then we can got
on with the game again”
Reaching the deck with the other
mariners, he drew them to a coign
which promised secrecy.
“A nice thing the cook's done!"
he complained. “Do you know ‘oo
we're playing cards with? Do you
know ‘oose money we're raking In?
A copper's!™
“A-~a COppers!’ grasped Mr, Par
kin,
“We're done for,” prophesied Mr,
Forder. “This is a put-up job!
We'll all be collared for this. Ten
quid aplece or & month's ‘ard. Cookle
would go and manage a thing like
that for us, wouldn't "e?™
“l—l couldn't ‘elp It” said the
cook wretchedly, “It—il wasn't my
fault. 'E sort of made friends with
me and invited 'isself almost.”
“This is jall for us and promo
tion for 'im!" groaned Mr. Parkin.
“You're sure ‘e is a policeman?”
“You ‘eard what ‘e sald to me
Ran me in, one night, in the ‘lgh
street for wanting to find someone
to fight with.”
9 -übxou ‘e 'as come 'ere to catch
us?" sald Mr. Parkin,
“What else does a copper play
cards for?" asked Mr. Marlow, “lUs
very plain that chap last night went
and made a complaint at the police
station, and they've put Turling on to
getting us fixed.”
“Well, the more 'e loses, the
‘eavier 'e'll manage to make it for
us,” sald Mr. Parkin. “What we've
got to do is to let 'im win. Jf ‘e wins
off of us, 'e might not think it worth
‘is while to prosecute. 'E'd rather
pocket the swag and say nothing, 1
should think, by the look of "im.”
“That's right. It's just the chance
we've got to depend on. Let 'im win;
let 'im win every blessed farthing
we've got. It'll come cheaper than
paying ten-pound fines or going to
jail for ‘em, either. So 'e's got to win.
Understamd, cookle?”
It was evident, half an hour later,
that the cook well understood, for
luck had gone amazingly in Mr, Tur
ling's direction ‘
“By the way,” sald Mr. Parkin
presently, endeavoring to take a
careless tone, “we 'ad a little short,
dark chap down ‘ere last night. Won
der if you've ever come across 'im
by any chance?”
“1 ‘ave,” replied Mr. Turling. *I
met ‘lm only this morning, funny
enough; in fact, it was 'im told me I
might find & game on down ‘ere, if 1
troubled to look for it."”
The shipmates exchanged glances,
and, thelr worst fears confirmed, luck
was allowed to favor Mr. Turling so
constantly that another twenty min
u‘tea brought the game to a conclu
sion,
“Well, I'll be going then,” said Mr.
Turling. “And thanks for a very
pleasant game. Good sports, you all
are—not to make a fuss when you've
lost down ‘o your very last lucky six
pence and nch pennies and what
nots. It's the first time I've ever won
a silver watch. I think I know a man
I can sell it to.”
“Yes,” sourly agreed Mr, Marlow,
"tro‘fi same man ag yvou'll sell them
b to. 'E'll be glad to get 'em
back!”
“Ah, well, 'e’s a bit of a pal of mine,
to tell the truth,” agreed Mr. Turling,
making his way on deck. “And I owe
im a good turn. Besides, 'e's a great
believer—a very great bellever—in
my skill at cards, so I ought to be
nice to 'im. Well, good evening, gen
tlemen,” he concluded, stepping on to
the wharf, “I must be getting along.”
“Going on night duty?" suggested
Mr, Forder.
“No, I'm going straight 'ome. Mat
ter of fact, the night air don’t agree
with me. Gets on my chest. That's
why I 'ad to resign from the police
force some six months ago. Once
again, good night, all, and thanks
very much! You played well. But I
'ad the luck o' the game, didn't I 2?"
Coiffures of To-Day and When Knights Battled and Minstrels Sang
The Modes of To-day Are Republished from HARPER'S BAZAR for October, the l‘MAuthnrfl y on All .\la_t_!_t_h‘ «im
W AT I TT—
A | ’ &, ‘\\ - 4 o i ,' ‘-4, -” - ; < 1
AN o« "y 1,,,, eT j‘
: 3 IJ.D Wi “ {‘-’:s; l"d‘ ‘;_/' -“ Q’ ~. .‘ _»:Or ’‘\ -"- 'J k‘
,{\ 2780 Tl ¥ ;Q 4 R e
;. : ‘;\Q \\ \"* rfi : Rt =4 ;’ ‘\ ' ‘\‘ \\‘ ‘; ’
W e T . ’\ ' \ X BEn
-t B \) : . . , 1 P f e 32
7N 3 AN X \
.\'/ T | .
J / e ’/ \ : \\\
/ / g ‘ j s s g ‘ . A
e / ‘v 1 / R \ o 5
N'L\'\ ‘ ) QR -t B ‘ -
.S"{ : . ® o
, . o » B bNS P o eTy
F OR evening wear the hair is drawn high,
puffed over the top of the head and rolled
into a loose knot as shown in this sketeh. Curls
are also a feature,
By GARRETT P, SERVISS. ‘
F you will wateh a cat lieking
I and smoothing her fur untli It
fits her everywhere like & siiken
coat, or & bird sedulously pruning
ita feathers until their beauty I=
fully displayed, you will perceive
the working of the same instinct
which causes human beings to
spend a great deal of time and labor
upon the care of their hair.
The hair has been called “the
greatest patural adornment of the
human body.” and, under the condi
tions of civilized life, it is, perhaps,
more ornamental than useful.
| There is certainly no part of the
body which has always, In every
country, and in every state of so
clety, been treated with so much dis
regard of natural tendencies as the
hair. The interference with it ranges
from efforts at total extirpation to the
most careful training and cultivation.
The Story of a Doctor's Wite
‘ By THE WIFE.
, i
’ CHAPTER XXI.
T was only §:3O--less than two
11 hours since Marian Farley had’
L told me that my husband h‘.-l|
;!ound his mate in Lengre Walils, In
a wild rage of jealousy, In a tumult
of unwilllngress to be pitied, in al
‘mad deslire to strike back after any
fashion, and to prove to Peter, my
self and the world that, though he nol
longer desired me, 1 had not lost all
charm for men, 1 had rushed to (hel
telephone and recklessly, though de-l
liberately, made an appointment to
meet Judge Snow. Once 1 had
fought off his advances. Now I was
inviting them.
Slowly 1 walked homeward. 1 meant
to put on my most attractive gown
and my most alluring hat. For a mo=-
ment 1 was kin with all the desper
ate, deserted women in the world,
who, when love goes, rush to meet a
tawdry substitute, I walked to the
edge of the precipice and looked over.
1 was going to sacrifice my good
name rather than have the world loog
at me pityingly. 1 told myself about
dying game. Nothing mattered now.
~—not my love for Peter nor my chil
‘dren, nor the parents who had al
ways been so proud of me. Then a
queer thing happened.
Out of a gaudy limousine stepped
a bepainted and bejeweled woman, in
whose hard eyes there lay the marks
of the legions of the lost. 1 looked at
her for a moment, She stood for one
thing in womanhood, 1 for another,
And quietly and deliberately—
knowing that 1 was woman enough
to face the agony | had made for my
self in life—l walked to another tele
phone and broke my engagement with
Judge Snow.
1 knew now that whatever life
brought me I would face it. If a fight
meant a victory, I could thank God
for that. But at least 1 must always
make the fight. I might have been
unworthy of all who loved me and all
1 loved—but I could not be unworthy
of my womanhood. Something had
come down to me through the ages:
something I must reserve and Kkeep
sacred,
1 did not know there was anything
melodramatic in my actions. 1 knew
only that I had expressed myself, and
that in expression I had found relief.
Connie Begins to Realize.
Straight home to the nursery I
went, and, holding my babies in my
T HE little hennin, a headdress covered by a
weil whieh fell over the shoulders. The
husbands of the fifteenth century inveighed
against the fashion.
Pashion has played with the bair
in the most capriclous way, among
savages and civilized men alike. The
hair of the face, which is generally
confined to men, has been more
subject to extreme changes of taste
and fashion than that of the head.
It is comparatively rare for the
head to be shaved or otherwise
artificially denuded of hair, but the
shaving of the face seems always|
to have been practiced from the
time whon man first managed to
make cutting instruments of = suf
ficient keennes to sever the beard.
The history of the rise and fall of
the mustache, repeated over and
over again, like the swing of a
pendulum, recards the fluctuations of
the ideal of masculine beauty, which
seems never to become fixed. of
course, a great deal depends upon ine
dividual peculiarities: nevertheless
there is a cycle of maximum and
arms, it came over me suddenly that
Lencre had done much for them, too.
She had helped save Peterkin. She
had brought Dorothy through her baby
delicacy to sturdy childhood. They
loved Lenore, too—but nothing could
takeé them from me. They were my
bables. Suddenly I became a mother
in a dceper sense than suffering thot
they might come into the world hal
made me.
For once in my life 1 forgot my
self. For once in my life my thought
was all for the thing it was right and
kind to do——. Iloved Peter then as
I had never loved him before, and 1
went to offer him his freedom.
He was alone in his office holding
a letter in his shaking hand. On his
lips was the queerest expression 1
had ever seen there. Even in my
strange exaltation of feeling it seem
ed to me that he looked like primi
tive man deprived of what belonged
to him.
“Peter,” 1 said, "1 know about you
and Lenore. 1 don't blame you at all.
1 haven't been a good wife, I've come
to offer you your freedom--but let me
ihuve my babies.”
| 1 bit my lips to steady them. 3
cried he might pity me so much that
he would offer to give up Lenore. 1
suppose 1 got a certain satisfaction
from feeling very noble and good. In
the midst of my pain I think I stood
off and admired myself. 1 had cast
myself for the injured heroine of my
play. ~Aqnd then Peter turned upon
me suddenly and thrust me into an
other part.
Peter Reads a Letter.
“Wait a minute, Connie. 1 want to
read you a letter,” he said in a cold
voice, *“Listen——
“Dear Jim—Come back. If you ever
‘ cared for me at all, come back. My
little sister is breaking her.heart for
you. 1 did you a terrible wrong when
I let you sacrifice yourself for me
and become engaged to her. And now
we mustn't make her suffer for that
‘moment of madness that found me in
‘your arms. Come back to Betty. She
needs your love—and I need your
friendship and understanding. To me
you will always be Peter’s best friend.
To you I will always be his wife—but
why should Betty pay because we
have a fight to make? Come back,
Jim. Your duty is to Betty. Your
‘love will be to her soon, I think, as
minimum governing the mustache,
which is as rigorous as that of the
snapshots.
We are now at a mustache mini
mum, and the severity of the social
law which produces it is plainly in
dicated by the scarified and uncom
fortably denuded appearance of
many masculine upper lips which
have been forced into the new fash
jon after having begun life under
the subsiding mustache which was
at its height in the days of Louls
Napoleon.
In dealing with the hair of the
head or scalp a real art has been de
tvolop«l. which has been sarcastically,
'lnd yet rather happily, called “hair
architecture.” Among civilized na
tions this art has generally been ex
ercised only upon the hair of women,
but among savages it is more often
the men who seek to improve their
ilppnnneo by such methods.
both my love and duty belong to Pe
ter.”
Peter read the letter slowly. I re
member just how desperately T had
written it at the time when I thought
'my own blundering mismanagement
' had lost for my little sister the man
| she loved so dearly, but who, through
an exaggerated idea of loyalty to me,
had plunged into an engagement
where his heart had rot led him.
1 had meant to be tender enough to
call Jim back. 1 had wanted to ap
peal to his splendid but emotional
nature. I had known that logic could
not move him, and so stupidly and
blindly—as 1 did in all things in those
days—l had seized on the only weap
on at hand to call .Jim back to Betty.
But that hysterical, ill-considered
letter sounded exactly as if 1 were
trying to call Jim back to me. It
marked the crowning idlocy of long
| years of morbidness that seemed to
'me suddenly to have been scarcely
sane,
“So that's why you offered me my
freedom,” said Peter. There was
death in his voice.
(To Be Continued.)
Wireless Emphasis.
She sailed into the telegraph office
and rapped on the counter. As the clerk
came forward to meet her he remem
bered that she had been there about
ten minutes before. He wondered what
she wanted this time.
l “Oh,” she said, ‘let me have that
telegram | wrote just now; 1 forgot
something important. 1 wanted to un
ldeucore ‘perfectly lovely’ in acknowl
edging the receipt of that bracelet. Will
it cost anything extra?"’
**No, ma'am,” said the clerk, as he
handed her the message.
The young lady drew two heavy lines
beneath the words and said:
“It's awfully good of you to let me
do that! It will please Arthur ever so
| much.”
Only Human Nature.
‘““That man wants his photograph to
look as natural as possible,”” whispeerd
the assistant to the proprietor of the
studio.
‘““Then make it as handsome as you
can,” came the quick reply.
“But—but he's awfully ugly, and in
sists he doesn't want the portrait to
flatter him at all.” ‘
“He wont think it flatters him,” said
the proprietor knowingly. He'll only‘
feel sure that at last some one has
’mam‘od to catch him looking just
right.
U.\'DER large hats the hair is worn low in a
soft loose knot that just escapes the top of
the high collar. For old and young alike, this
style will be popular.
The scalp-lock of the American In
dians, with its attendant adornment
of feathers, and the curious towers
and turrets constructed on the heads
of some African warriors and chiefs,
are examples. On the other hand,
the pigtalls of the Chinese show that’
a people posstssing a high degree of
civilization may cultivate a similar
taste. ¢
Like house architecture, the hair
bullders’ art has taken several char-
Acteristic forms or styles. Nonae of
these styles seems to have been more
beautiful than that of the ancient
Hebrews, whose women wers accus
tomed to have their dark, glossy hair
skilifully plaited, and then confined
with gold and silver pins, and adorn
ed with precious stones. Says the
writer of “Solomon's Song” of the
prince’'s daughter: “Thine head upon
thee is like carmel, and the hair o’
thine head ke purple: the Kking l-]
' Don’t Bluff in the Love Game,
- o Says Dorothy Dix o
| By DOROTHY DIX. |
| NE of the most curious things
IO about the love game is that‘
l s 0 many men and women (ry
to win it on a bluff. }
I Girls, in especial, have the mistaken |
inotion that they render themselves
more attractive by prefending to be
something that they are not. They
affect to be fragile and delicate when
they are husky and healthy; to hHe
esthetic and idealistic when they are
plain matter-of-fact; to be filled with
vague poetic yearnings after the
what-ness-of-the-what when, in
reality, all that they are thinking of
is roast beef and potatoes. |
| And the line of conversation they
hand out! It is paralyzing! The ever-‘
thrilling subject of cooking is on the
carpet. The Young Lady Person
calmly observes that she loathes the
sight of a kitchen. and that she
couldn’t boil water without burninz
!it. and that' the one thing in life that
she is determined never to do is to
demean herself by performing any
sort of domestic labor.
Can't Stand Children,
Or, perchance, the conversation
turns upon children. Her exalted
highness tears off a shudder and says
that she doesn't know how anyone
can endure to have dirty, sticky-fin
gered, troublesome brats hanging
about her, and that, for her part, she
would go farther to avoid meeting
a baby than she would a bear.
Or, itamay be, that the discussion
flits to modern extravagance and lit
tle Miss Spendit expresses the opin
ion that the very least that anyone
can live on with any sort of decent
comfort is twenty thousand a year,
and that's genteel poverty,
To hear her talk you would think
that the girl was a useless, brainless, |
heartless parasite, the kind of woman
who values everything by the dollar
mark, and that a man had better tie
a rock about his neck and cast him
self into the sea than te marry her.
But be not deceived. The reversel
of this is the truth. In reality the
girl is a sensible, warm-hearted, com
petent little person who will make
‘the best sort of a wife and mother
‘Nobody knows why she does it, but,
for some inexplicable reason, she
thinks that she makes herself attrac
tive by assuming what she considered
A HEADDRESS of the Joan of Ark perio‘
1430, that is at the time of Charles V
of France when the English were driven out of
Orleans.
held In lbo..nnorhl.'
The Greeks of Athens curted and
netted their hair, and adorned it with
pearls, gems, flowers and ribbons,
The Egyptian men appear generally
to have cut and shaved their hair,
while the women wore theirs in long
plaits. The Assyrian men, on the
contrary, wore long hair, trained into
curls,
The Roman women were among the
first to develop a taste for construc
tions of great height on their heads,
composed partly of patural and part
1y of false, or borrowed, hair, which
was frizzed, colored and ornamented
with jewels and flowers. Often these
constructions consisted of several
“stories” piled up by art and skill of
slaves, while the mistress watched
their operations, and made sugges
tions, with the aid of a mirror, like a
modern Parisian lady superintending
‘the work of her coiffeur.
to be a grand and romantic attitude
toward life,
b The Fibs They Tell.
It's a strange phase of feminine
psychology, but we are all familiar
with it. We have all heard angel
faced young girls calmly lle as they
told that they paid $l5O for dresses
that they made themselves, and that
didn't cost sls; that they didn’t know
whether you bought a quarter of lamb
or a ,whole sheep for dinner when
they could beat the butcher down to
the last cent on a cheap cut, and
that they wouldn’t think of marry
ing a man who didn't keep a limou
gine, when they would have jumped
at any good young fellow with street
car tickets.
The more fools the girls in think
ing that they make themselves de
sirable to men by pretending that
they are helpless dolls or extravagant
fashion plates. That's not the sort
of wives men are looking for, and
many a girl's affectation has cost
her a good husband.
When a man thinks about getting
married he is bound to figure the
price, because it's up to him to pay
the bills, He could afford to marry
if he could get a wife who would be
a helpmeet, who could cook and sew,
and manage a house thriftily, and
who wouldn't expect to wear import
ed hats and gowns. But when he
hears a girl talk about a S2OO dress
being a bargain he gets cold feet
and sheers away from the altar.
Men Do It, Too.
Men are quite as silly and even
more criminal in the bluff that they
put up about making more morey
than they do, for when a girl marries
a man under the delusion that she
is going to share with him in a cham
pagne income it is a bitter and
blighting disappointment to find out
RS ik = thte i
A Contented Mother.
A quiet, tranquil mother will trans
mit a more heslthful influence than if
Le i# extremely nervous from unduc
sain. That is why experienced moth
.rs are constantly urging expectant
nothers to use the olftime remedy,
\{other's Friend, a dependable ex
erng) treatment obtained at any
irug store. It relieves undue tensior
on the cords and ligaments resultin;
from muscular expansion and gentl:
.oothes the network of fine nervc
threads. It is the one splendid a
sistant to ease, comfort and safety.
St. Paul is credited with having had
a decisive Influence on the style of
hairdressing with his dictum that it
was shameful for men to wear long
halr and for women not to do so.
The reign of Elizabeth in England
was a period when immense con
structions of halr on women's heads
were most popular, but in Queen
Anne's time this fashion was again
prevalent, and was even carried to
greater lengths. The preparation of
a lady’s hair for a ball at that time
was often an undertaking requiring
two days. About that time, too, the
tashion of powdering the hair became
common. Similar styles prevailed in
France.
If we think that some of these
things were ridiculous we have only
to remember the “chignons” of the
nineteenth century in order to per
ceive that nobody can predict or es
cape the vagaries of Dame Fashion.
that he hasn't even the price of hy
drant water,
One of the main reasons why there
are so many divorces sin this country
is because it is considered indellcate
to mention the subject of money be
fore marriage, though after marrage
that is bound te be the chief topic
of discusslon.
This isn't giving the girl a square
deal. Before he marries her, a man
should make it perfectly plain to a
woman exactly how much money he
makes and what sacrifices she wil
have to make if she marries him.
Then she can take him, or leave him,
as she likes.
There should be no bluffing in the
love game. It should be played with
all the cards, face up, on the table.
! <"
'WELL, STRONG
| AND HEALTHY
Doctor Recommended Car
| dui to Build Up Her
' Strength. Said It Was
| a Fine Medicine.
| MANDARIN, FLA~*About 1%
| years ago, after the birth of my
| ehild,” writes Madame €. Billard, of
'this place, "1 was in a very low and’
| rundown state of heaith, and was
| very weak. Dr., —————, then of
| =, ... recommended that I take
,iCa.rdul. He was treating me, and
| he told me to take it to build up my|
| strength. s.tg it was a fine med!-
| cine. I took three bottles and ¥
“,um me up. After the use of two, I
| was greatly improved {n flesh,
;lmn‘th and health, in fact was en«
tirely well, but took one more bote
ztlo te be sure I'd taken enough. I
| was able to do my work and was &
| well, strong woman. i
i “Ihighly recommend itas a tonia T,
| have never had bad headh since, have'
;been well and strong and healthy
; ever since.”
| Cardul, the woman's tonto, fs o
medicine prepared from vegetablen,
medicinal ingredients, which have
been found to exert a tonic, building
influence.
For over 40 years this medicine has
Ibeon used by the women of this
| country, and the thousands of ‘'et
| ters, which come to us every yean
| are proof of its real therapeutld,
| beneficial medicinal value.
| It you are in need of a remedy for
| womanly ills, take Cardul, the WwWo-~
| man’s tonic. For sale by all drug«~
gists.—Advertiaement,