Newspaper Page Text
WEDNESDAY, APRIL 26, 1916.-
BARON BEAN
» ODEER, [} 50 HUNGRY
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£ vou, PAULIE
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BY GOSH, ILL FIX HER FOR TALKIN'
0 THAT JLINN GOY YESTERDAY,
fLL FREEZE HER WITH A LOOK!
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SHANER S il
Gocz’(,u T
OEPT
Never Let Your Heart Grow Cold
sat together in the yel
low room the other even-
Ing, just as dusk began to
Creep over the distant city —the
few friends who really care deep-
Iy for each other.
The sun had just set, and all
the alr was full of purple; mist
white clouds of rilver flonted on
& oky of rose. and the sea was
.R“ Blus,
MM" on the islang
Opposite the city fasined iis grea!
e ——————
‘GRIMES Y, HETHINKS
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GOAT GRABBERS
e WILLE EVERBDY THE G INK
' WHO 16 ALWAYS IN THE MIDST
E OF A FUNNY STORY EVERY
TIME THE WAITER APPEARS
wm‘.‘ eHEeK FROM W. CLAR CHI.
By Winifred Black.
eye; back and forth the search
light slanted. What s there so
mystic and poetic about a light
shining like silver on the violet
and gray twilight?
In the room we sat and talked
~not brilllantly, not instroctive-
Iy, not even very earnestly--just
pleasantly of little things, such as
friends speak of together,
Out at the door lay a woolly
dog, stretehed, watchful and
alert. His little master was in
Copyright, 1916, Imtersationsl News Servile.
B o T
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Copyright, 1916, Newspapér Feature Service, Inc. Regivtered U. 5. Patent Offios.
Great Britaln Rights Reserved.
ONY GigLs Pavs wiTn Dous! |
YU Dodi waw4 BE A'Siss/ Do
Your [ SHoOULD Y Aot
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#ide, and you would have had to
kill the dog to drive him away,
The ehildren played happily
across the hall and laughed to
gether, and someons went to the
piano and sang simple songs of
her own making.
THE QUAINT OLD SONG.
One of the songs was aboyt &
little old French grandmother
sang always over her work a
Gqualnt refrain :
His ATregey AT VN
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HEls, | BWSH ™
~THE EXPRESSION, WHERE THE it
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Copyright, 1916, International News Service. Registered U, S. Patent Office.
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3‘_‘ffif i ADDS FIPTY
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“Never let your heart grow old—
Never lot your heart grow cold.”
And the singer played a rip
pling accompaniment and talked,
rather than sang, and somelow
the room was very still and thers
was something sweet and fra.
grant in the alr,
Was It the purple violets on the
low tablé, or d¥d the yellow aca
ela flll the alr with scents and
hope of spring? We all looked
out at the changing scene and
At the Nashing lght upon the
purple of the evening mist-—and
some of us didn't even try o
keep the tears from our eyes,
The lawyer surprised me most
of all. 1 never thought lawyets
knew how to crveand yot some
THE ATLANTA GEORGIAN
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Two Souls with but a Single Thought—To Kill the Other Fellow
No Use; Pa Never Won an Argument Yet
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thing glistened In the lawyers
eyes,
One woman whose hair is white
smiled &t the refrain of the ol
song. 1 wonder what she was
thinking? For she Is no longer
young and the children she sac
rificed for and worked for and
hoped and planned for so many
YOurs are very busy with their
own affairs and have not much
Ume for her
The great musician leaned back
in his chalr and gave himself up
o some sort of memories. You
could ses that from his face, Ile
looked bored when the woman
went to the plano, “Mere music™
he thought, “and an amateut &t
that!™ But when he got acquaint.
ed with the little old Fremen
It Looked Too Life-like to Fool the Baron
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Amswer. to Meoloed agyrs Wb. m{r i
DOES A mm”‘. Frßom KRAM 2=V, 3. A,
mpammomear WHAT" ARE THE LAYS of*
A SUMMER HOTEL T ‘CAvse SPRING P
SUM MER THERE AND THE
RESTAURANT ! - rovodr | NSWER o~ Mogronn f
grandmother h' i song, he fore
got—and remembered—l wonder
what? &
Komeons played the violin and
played It with passion and Wwith
power. How far will she go in the
world, the slender girl who played
i, with her eyes like the dawn of
day and genius burning hot within
her hoart? How far—over what
hard and stony pathe, for such as
the can Aever tread a quiet road?
I saw her mother looking at her,
puszied and disquieted. Where
did she learn the things that she
was telling o with her walling
violin®
THE HEART OF EXPERIENCE.
And there were lighis and the
fire wegan 1o dance upon the
By Georqge McManus
1 WELL“POR m
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hearth, and someons mnu
things to eat and drink, we
talked again together, lightly and.
simply, as old friends will. But
when they were all gone my heart
kept time to the simple little mel.
ody, and over and over agaln I
found myself humming:
“Never let your heart grow old—
Never let your heart grow cold.”
Oh, how hard I'm going to try to
take the advice from the little
song! And, oh, the peace and Joy
of living that 1 wish the one who
sang it and who wrote it out of &
Reart full of Bitterness and sweet -
neas which we eall, for the want
of & Letier nume, sxperience’
ATLANTA, GA
Krazy Kat
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AND LET ME Tsl Yoy,
THe MUSK* BRANCH
OF “THE RAT' PAMILY
IS ONB OF OUR,
'\ PRouDBST s
BoASTS ~
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An seoquaintance of & well-known n‘
thor was one day talking with Mm aboul
the remarkable increase of imitations
and substitutes for original articles, a 8
margarine for butter, celluloly for
and so forth
“ANd,” sald he, “many of the
tutes g ahead of the real thing. 1
in thme thers will be & substitute &
everything, though 1 don't know
wisdom. £
Noo' replied ihe suther, Yup 10 e
presant time st lsast ther 18 ne P
gond substitute for wisdom: sllenes
the best Ihat nas been discoversd up 18
sow Ea