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Wet the Kindness You Feel You Have Deserved from Others, It Is a Mistake to Complain, for It Is No Use
“THE GEORGIAN'S MAGAZINE PAGE—
The Struggles of a Wife
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“"Mother,” cried Grace, “‘you are the queerest creature.”’
By Virginia Terhune Van De
Water,
CHAPTER XXX,
(Copyright, 1916, Star Company.)
YRA WEBB did not cast any
M shadow on Grace's satisfac
tion in her successful dinner
party by telling her that no word had
come from the Imperial Magazine of
fice about the story on which so much
depended.
Yet the mother knew that if it was
not sold she would have to use the
next fortnight's housekeeping allow
ance to pay for the expenses of the
dinner party.
She would have to do this, anywny,
but if a check came to her from the
magazine she would have money
enough to replace the housekeeping
allowance and to pay for numerous
other things. If it did not come—but
she would not let herself congider this
possibility.
At least, in the daytime she put it
from her mind. It is possible to ban
ish such reflections when one is up
and about one's work, But at night
there is likely to he a fearful period
of reckoning; then one can not con
trol one's thoughts. .
So Myra Webb would wake in the
middle of the night with a sense of
impending trouble. She would re
member suddernly that she had ac
tually spent money that she did not
have. And for what? For a dinner
party that was really beyond their
means!
She tried to comfort herself by re
flecting on how Grace had erjoyed it:
how Horace had seemed brighter than
usual, for guests always brought out
the best in him.
If she had been extravagant through
unselfish motives, need she reproach
herself? Ought she not rather to con
gratulate herself on having given her
husband and child a happy evening?
The Bills Worry Her.
But self -congratulations do not sete
The Gift of Conversation
OU can no more be a good talker
! without giving thought to the
matter than you can be a vio
lin soloist without practice and effort,
Conversatidn does not come by the
grace of God, even though you have
a lplend'ld thental equipment.
Robert Louls Stevenson said that
the “first duty of man is to speak—
that is his chief business in the world
—and talk, which is the harmonious
speech of two or more, is by far the
most accessible of pleasures.”
How many of us miss the inexpen
sive delights of conversation! How
‘.ooo -__\’, ' ; 06b¢o-o-.-.00-o-0.0-o-oooo;.?
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P T LIKE THE '
.
| FRENCH HAT :
! _.')J- 3
L 0 74 4 -
: KAYSER Silk Gloves —smart,
k. original, inimitable —in the ~3
e mind of the fastidiously a 4
920 N [ dressed woman, occupya d 8 §
-.}‘ N place entirely their own. {o‘
- Ask at the stores for the new
Kayser Silk Gloves for 1916. See
» 'g. them today. Copyright, Miive Kayserd Co.
. ~'.‘3.o_._o"‘.
tle tradesmen's bills, she would pon-‘
der miserably. She had been obliged
to hire a woman to come in and help
Lizzie serve the dinner and wash the |
dishes, ‘
“If T could only know I had sold my
story!” Myra w?uld sigh. (
And then one afternoon she was
summoned to the telephone. |
“Mr. Martin wants to speak to you,” |
sald Perry Martin's stenographer. :
“Good morning, Mrs. Webb,” came |
the man's cheery answer, “I have‘
been away and only got back yester
day. Thrat's the reason I have not let‘
you krow about your story until
now."
Myra's knees trembled under her.‘
She fe'lt are If she must demand shrilly |
what his verdict was. In another
minute she would know the worst, or
the best.
“Well,” she sald, “what do you
think of it?”
“It's all right. Good stuff! I like it
even better than your first.,”
“lI am glad.” How cool her volce
sounded; yet she wanted to exclalm‘
with joy, wanted to clasp her hands in
relief.
Better Pay Still.
“A check will go to you next week,”
the editor was saying.
“For how much?’ Could it be she,
Myra Webb, who was asking this bold
question?
Mr. Martin laughed lightly. “I was
wondering If you appreciated that this
last story is a little longer than the
first, and since it is even better, 1
think we might add $25 to your
check,”
“Very well” Myra acknowledged
the information wltl\ admlmblg
felgned indifference.
~ So well did she act her part that the
editor added, “I am taking it for
granted that this is satisfactory to
you, Mrs, Webb, If not, please tell ma
so frankly and I will see what wae
can do.”
“Oh, no,” Myra replied. “That will
few of us talk well enough to make
It worth while to say anything! There
are no hard and fast rules which will’
enable one to become a good conver
sationalist in a short course of les
sons, but there are a few “sign posts™
to success.
Remember that there are always
two in any conversation. What to
talk about can not be determined
solely by your interest, but has ta
take Into consideration the point of
view of the other people. To be a
good conversationalist you must first
free yourself from the evil effects of
self-centeredness. Focus your atten-
Myra Worries Over
Ijg Family Bills
be quite satisfactory, thank you.”
She rang off, and, dropping into a
chalr, burfed her face in her hands
and burst into sobs. She was alone,
for it was Lizzie’s afternoon out.
' “Thank God!" she sobbed. “Oh,
thank God!” :
She let herself cry until her ex
citement had spent itself. She had
sold her story for $175! She could
pay what she owed! She could give
Grace something for a new dress! She
could perhaps buy herself a new
blouse!
She started violently as the door
opened and Grace came in,
Grace Does Not Understand.
“What's the matter?” the girl de
manded, startled at the sight of her
mother's red and swollen eyes.
“Nothing.” Myra tried to smile,
but failled lamentably, “I have seld a
story,” she added, tremulously, “for
more than I have gotten for any plece
of writing yet!” s
“Well!” Grace looked at hgr a mo
ment, and then broke into a laugh. “1
do think you are the strangest crea
ture, mother! You have sold a story
and have been crying about it as if
you hated to part with {t!”
Myra laughed hysterically, “It isn't
that!” she protested. “I was crying
because I was so glad and so thank
ful!”
Grace shook her head. “That's an
unusual method of expressing happi
ness and gratitude,” she sald. “At
least, it's not my way.”
“No, it's no#” Myra agreed. §he
was feeling very much ashamed of her
weakness. ' 1
“But I'm .glad you sold the thing for
a good price!” Grace added. *“I am
glad on father's account, too; for
really, when he enjoys company as
ymuch as he does, I do think you ought
to ‘entertain more—l mean, to have
‘hi- friends here oftener—and yours, of
course—not only mine. lam not self
ish, you know.”
“I know, dear,” Myra agreed. “Of
course you are not selfish!"”
(Te Be Continued.)
By Beatrice
Fairfax
tion on the people with whom you are
talking. o
After that you must learn a little
about human nature. You must be
able to figure out the type of man
who will be interested in discussions
of art and literature, as well as the
sort of individual to whom that seems
“highbrow” and extremely boresome,
Then you must have something t 9
talk about. The newspapers and the
weeklles will keep you posted as to
the topics of the day. Sane, well
written editorials will direct you to
ward investigation along varied trains
of thought. Follow it up. Suppose
an editorial mentions Debussy or
Maeterlinck, or Leonardo da Vinel
and you don't know much about the
individuals referred to. Why not go
to an encyclopedia and find out? |
Every new field of interest you open
up to yourself guards you against
unhappiness and boredom, and gives
you the ability to contribute to a con
versation.
Business, the fine arts, soclal prob
lems, current events—what do you
know about any of these? Dress,
your own particular occupation,
~scandal, your special form of amuse
ment—one of these equip you to be an
interesting talker,
Get outside of yourself, widen your
circle of Interests, and study so that
you may have material for conversa
tion. And then, in order to handle
and turn it to use, read the standard
novels and the good old English dra
mas so that you may be able to ex
lprgu yourself in charming, flexible
English.
And then practice talking, not by
trying to dominate a conversation,
but by trying to find some way of
interesting other people so that they
respond and talk well, too,
A Tale of Oklahoma Life
The Heart of
o Wetona @
The Indian Maid Wins Her Battle for Her Salvation.
By ANN LISLE.
(¢ OU want? Why—why?”
Y “Because I—" there was
a vibrant note in the man's
voice, but suddenly he checked .it, and
went on steadily and firmly. This was
not the time to offer the suffering
child before him anything but chival
rous protection. That note dominated
the love tone which wanted to thrill
its way up to his volce.
“Because!l believe in you—l've al
ways belleved In you—and wanted to
be with you when this moment came
to help you to see it right and to face
it bravely. Now, are you going to
disappoint me ?” asked Jonhn Hardin.
“I do whatever you say.”
“It's all right now, Nauma,” said
Hardin to the moaning creature who
£till crouched on the floor, rocking
back and forth in agony.
Nauma looked up, hardly daring to
hope. “No—no? No sandhills?”
breathed Nauma, hardly daring to
hope.
- “No,” sald the girl softly. And her
eyes fixed themselves on Hardin's
face with a strange wonder that she
‘could 80 trust any human being as
’she did this man. The old nurse
sobbed In a frenzy of gladness and
crept out of the room. ’
The Girl Answers.
It was all very pretty and very dra
matic, thought Mr. Tony Wells; but
it could have only one ending, and
none of the elaborate agonizing and
romancing on the way could change
the fact that at the end of the road
lay the need of his marrying the little
Indian girl,
“When are you going to get that
divorce, Hardin, so Wetona and .I can
marry?” demanded Tony.
Wetona turned to him and spoke
with simple dignity. “Tony, Mister
Hardin get divorce, but we never
marry.”
“Why not?”
The girl studied him for a moment.
All that was In her heart she dared
not even try to exrress, but she knew
that the Tony she had loved had nev
er existed and the man who had
sneered at her desire to feel that her
love was pure was a Tony she never
could have loved. “You say marry
now because you afra*d. but I not
afraid. Wetona mistaken in you. 1
doan’ ever want to see you any more.”
And quietly, almost unemotionally,
Wetona turned away and went over to
her own room. The door closed be
hind her—closed with inexorable gen
tleness. Tony gazed after her in
frank surprise. Then suddenly he
broke into an ironic laugh
“Well, for the love of heaven—what
do you think of her trying to tell me
which way the gate closes? Let her
sleep it off. Tomorrow she'll change
her little tomtom tune.”
There was quiet significance in’
Hardin's tone. *“You won't hear the
new tune, though.” 1
“No?" asked Mr, Wells, shrugging
his shoulders lightly. |
“You've seen her for the last time.”
“Who says so?” |
T do”
There was a moment's pause, and
then Tony made an attempt at a
lightly ironical tone which should
mask the belligerent hatred he felt
surging up in his heart. “Oh—so it's
your work, is it? Well, come on?
What's the answer? I've been made
a monkey of enough around here to
night, and I'm getting tired of it.
What's your game? What do you
want to do? Why in thunder did you
marry her?”
“To keep her from being forced to
marry you.” Hardin was holding him
self in leash,
The other man’s tone held the lash
of consclous superiority and an irony
that was sneeringly cold. “She loves
me and wants to marry me. * * * By
Jove, Hardin—there's a lot you don’t
know about women.”
“Not much I don't know about
your sort of man, though. Of course,
had your measure even before I had
your name. She only realized tonight,
though. And that's what I've been
walting for”
“You think I won't make good, eh?"
Do You Know That
There is a fish of the skate family
which can inflict an electric shock
severe enough to knock a man down.
». . ‘
The largest iceberg ever met by
a liner was nine miles long and 300
feet above the water,
-. . o
In Spain it s compulsory, for
every elector to vote both in Parlia
mentary and municipal elections.
. . .
Echoes are more resonant in the
evening than Jn the daytime.
asked Tony, sarcastically. “You think'
I never intended to marry her? Well,
I'll make you a plain proposition:
Personally, I don’'t care a whoop
about the Academy—going to get out
of it soon anyway—but I'm not going
to be run out.
“If you'll make old Quannah agree
to keep his head closed, and not both
er me at the Academy for a year, and
you do the same, I will marry her the
day you get the divorce.”
Hardin Goes for Him.
A year! Hardin studied the man
for a moment. A year of uncertainty
and agony and shame for Wetona,
while Mr. Wells got ready to do what
he called “the right thing by her.”
There was murder in Hardin's heart,
but he managed to reply, nh_nost un
emotionally: “You couldn't have We
tona under any circumstances now!”
There was deadly, insulting sar
casm in Tony's sneer. “If I were in
your place, I wouldn’t bother about
the divorce. She’s a loving little
thing. She'll make a fine wife.”
Hardin swung on Tony at that, and
caught him by the throat. The mur
der in his heart had leaped into in
sistent and clamorous being, But that
would have meant only the climax of
tragedy for Wetona.,
And the man who loved her con
trolled himself for her sake and spoke
in a quiet, steely voice: “Death has
been hovering over this house all
night. That remark brings it into
the room.”
There was a stern pause. The two
men measured each other. Primitive
hatred surged from throbbing hearts
to aching brains. There was the lust
of blood in the minds of both. They
were primitive men fighting for a
woman. Suddenly Hardin controlled
himself for one second and spoke his
will,
~ “I'm going to draw your picture
now in plain English, and when it
gets too hot for you to stand, why,
| there’s a .41 Colt in that middle draw
er—make whatever use of it you see
ft.”
Tony drew open the desk drawer
and caught the revolver in tense fin
gers. Slowly he started to lift It
Hardin stood waiting, an {ironical
smile on his lips, his hands hanging
‘empty at his side.
‘ “All right! If you want a gun
game we'll have it!”
“Good! At last we have a lady's
man with nerve! Open up! I'll give
you the first shot.”
Slowly Hardin moved his right
hand toward his hip pocket. Wells
lifted the gun slowly and steadily,
and then suddenly his flrperl' re
laxed and the revolver clattered back
into the drawer,
“No—not with YOUR gun.” Tony's
voice was low and unsteady.
Hardin laughed with bitter irony.
“I found out what I wanted to know.
You haven’t got the manhood to face
the consequences of your own acts;
the honor to retrieve them, nor the‘
nerve to back them up! You're just
no good. ‘
“Now, what you're going to do is
to go get your grip and your hat and
burn the wind out of this town to
night, and out of Oklahoma tomorrow
—and you're never going to let We
tona's name pass your lips again.
Now, go get the things—and clear
out.” .
There was nothing for Wells but
obedience, and he slung out of the
room with a vague effort at assum
ing a nonchalance he did not feel.
A second later Nauma rushed Into the
room in breathless haste,
“Mister John! Comanche all around
house. They walit for soldier—to kill.
Nauma see. Through window she
hear talk. They wait for him-—walt
'till he come.”
“How many are there?” asked Har
din,
“Many. Nauma see. They wait
for him."” -
“Well, what do they want?” de
manded Wells' voice from the door
way. In a sudden access of whole
some respect for John Hardin he had
strapped his bag and prepared for a
very hasty departure,
(To Be Continued Tomorrow.)
The Isle of Man has home. rule
and woman suffrage.
. - -
Cannibals sharpen their teeth to a
point, |
He Couldn't,
“Congratulate me, Jimmy; I'm en
gaged to Bally Jenks.”
“I'm awfully sorry, Henry, but I
can't consclentiously do it—l've been
engaged to Sally miselt”
The Great Wall of China
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The great wall of China at the Nankow pass. The great wall is fifteen hundred miles
long, on the bundary between China and Mongolia.
ERHAPS the most impressive'
P work of human hands in all the
world is the Great Wall of
China. It is a thing to dream about.
It is a kind of dream in itself, for
until one has seen it one has only a
half belles in its reality. It seems
like an invention of the imagination
rather than an actual achievement of
man.
It belongs to Aladdin’s world, in
which impossible things were done by
supernatural powers coming to the
aid of favored human beings. The
pyramids of Egypt are only piles of
stone a few hundred feet square at
the base, but the great Chinese wall
is a fortification of masonry 1,500
miles long, averaging 22 feet in height
and 2Q feet in width, along whose
summit, as on an elevated roadway,
protected by battlements, armies could
march, hurrying this way or that, to
reach the pofnt of danger.
Thousands of square towers, placed
100 yards apart, strengthened the wall
and gave access to it from the inner
side. It runs in serpentine curves
over hills and mountains and across
valleys and ravines, bridging streams,
skirting precipices, and keeping on
ridges where possible.
It was a literal war-wall between
two nations, or' peoples. It divided
China from Mongolia, the land of
Eastern Asiatic civilization from that
Gitl Workers Who Win Out
By JANE McLEAN.
ISS SMITH taught school.
M There was nothing remark
able about that fact, nor was
there anything at all extraordinary
about Miss Smith herself. She did
not look upon her work in the light of
a profession, nor of a career carefully
chosen and painstakingly adhered to.
She was just one of a thousand
other school-teachers. She hadwsnever
heard of special branches, or, if she
had, it never occurred to her to think
whether or not she was suited to her
work. She simply taught school be
cause her education in the normal
college made it possible. |
~ From the time that she was a small
girl her mother had always sald with
a gratified smile that they were mak
ing a teacher out of Maud.
“Her father and I never had the
chance, but we want Maud to have a
real education.”
And so Maud had conscientiously
worked her way through the high
school and normal, and was now a
regular teacher. She taught arith
metic, geography, history, spelling,
reading and nature study. She had
no knack of making these subjects
of peculiar interest to the children
who met in her room every day.
She simply plodded cheerfully along
preparing her lessons carefully day
by day—bered, if she had stopped to
think of it at all, and yet she consid
ered herself a worker.
However, there was just one thing
that made Miss Smith different from
some of the other teachers. She loved
children. She liked their shy at
tempts at friendship, she liked it
when they brought their small prob
lems for her to solve, and, strange, to
say, discipline in Miss Smith's room
was not so necessary as it was else
where.
It all came about through Johnny
Deering, who was the acknowledged
bad boy of the school. Teachers
dreaded him, and when it finally came
time to hand him over to Miss Smith,
Miss Bascom, of the grade below,
gave him up with a sigh of rellief at
the knowledge that a year of torment
was happily over.
Johnny knew all the dodges that are
usually employed to make teachers
furious. He knew how to alm spit.
balls, and how to draw atrocious ple
tures of teacher in heavy chalk on the
blackboard. But Miss Smith never
struck his fingers with a ruler, nor did
she keep him in after school. She
of Central Asiatic barbarism. China
protected itself with this astonishing
wall upon the same principle by
which ‘Babylon and other ancient
cities constructed their defenses, only
an entire country was walled in in
stead of a slngie town.
Photographs of the great wall, made
by Mr. R. C. Andrews, of the Amer
ican Museum of Natural History,
show in what a surprising state of
preservation the work remains, at
least over large sections of its long
course. In some places,‘ where it was
made of brick, it is now only a range
of mounds. Passing through a moun
tainous district, you see it running,
like the colls of a huge serpent, over
near-by hills, then plunging out of
sight into a valley, then reappearing
and disappearing, again and aain, with
its towers crowning commanding
heights, until the last distant glimpse
shows it winding away over the far
off, dim horizon.
This great wall was begun three
centuries before the Christian Era, but
the parts which remain in fairly good
condition were erected in the four
teenth century A. D. In its time it
seems to ‘have been a satisfactory
Imea.ns of defense against the inva
'sions of the savage Tartars, and if its
'builders had been a people fond of
}cel_ebratln‘ their deeds of arms in
ballads and epic poems, we might find
just laughed at the awful pictures and
pretended not to notice when Johnny
aimed balls across the room. And
when Johnny discovered tha; he was
not making such a hit, he didn’t find
it as much fun as he had under fidg
ety, fretful Miss Bascom.
Other teachers asked Miss Smith
how she endured life with Johnny
Deering, and Miss Smith always made
some laugh!ng rejoinder. Everyone
marveled, and life continued to go on
for Miss Smith in quite the same way
as usual, only she was really Inter
ested in Johnny Deering. She wanted
to make him like her.
; One day she encountered Johnny's
eyes regarding ner Interestedly as she
explained a point in nature study, and
their absorbed interest made her
think of a story that she promptly
told, to {llustrate her point,
l She forgot herself and told the
Hints for the
Household
Many ladies embroider linen or
lawn shirt blouses or linen center
pleces for their friends. Many, too,
though naturally neat, will find their
work solled before it is finished. If
one desires to make up such material,
or give it to a friend without wash
ing, it may be made perfectly clean
by sprinkling thickly with French
chalk and rolling up for a day or two.
The chalk may afterward be shaken
out.
9 99
When a wicker chalr requires
cleaning, dust it well and wash In
tepid soapsuds. Mix together equal
parts of turpentine and sweet 01l and
a few drops of methylated spirits.
When the chair is quite dry, rub with
a cloth mouun:d 'wltz\ the polish,
An excellent method of cleanin
velvet is to scrape a light dust o,
pipe clay all over the velvet, and then
brush lightly away with a clean brush,
This will be found almost invariably
to restore the bloom and also to raise
the pile,
» 9 B
When buying a hair mattress,
choose ?ne filled with black rather
than white halr, as the latter has gen
erally been bleached, which deprives
it of springiness and makes it “mat”
:}:" ::llckly than the black or even
y r.
By Garrett
P. - Serviss
in ancient Chinese literature thrilling
stories of the defense of the great
wall, when hordes of wild riders as
salled it in vain.
But Chinese literature is mostly de
voted to the discussion and illustration
of moral virtues, the celebration of
peaceful triumphs, and the lyrics of
unambitious life. The wall was begun
two or three centuries after the time
of Confucius, but this great national
work did not change the current of
literary tradition from the channels
in which he and other moralists had
set it flowing. <
Sometimes the Emperors of China
erected hunting lodges outside the
wall, and, protected by strong military
escorts, spent weeks beyond the fron
tier. Readers of De Quincey’s roman
tic history of the flight of the Tor
gote Tartars from the borders of Rus.
sia back to their old mother China
will recall the exciting experience of
the Emperor Kien Long, when he had
ventured several hundred miles be
yond the wall, and by his lucky pres
ence was the means of preserving his
“returning children” from the aveng
ing pursuit of their flerce enemies,
who had followed them thousands of
miles with unabated fury. But at last
“the ancient Children of the Wilder
ness rested from their labors and
from great afflictions under the shad
ow of the Chinese Wall,”
The Teacher and
Her Final Success
story well, the children hung on her
words, and for the first time in her
life she was flushed and happy. The
principal had come quietly into the'
room as she spoke, and coming up to
Her desk after school he said evenly:
“l think you have quite a knack
with children, Miss Smith. I think I
shall put you in charge of the chil
dren’s special, you are certainly qual
ified.”
Miss Smith’s usually quiet hands
tightened in her lap, but her cup of
happiness was not quite empty. John
ay Deering slid softly up to her desk
and held out a rough little hand im
pulsively,
“Say, you're a peach,” he said shy«
ly. “I like you.” And Miss Smith as
last knew what it meant to have a
real career. '
(The next article in this series wilt
be called “The Manicurist.”)
All Over Fingers, Spread Over Both
Hands, ltched and Burned
So Could Not Sleep,
“My trouble started with little red pim«
ples breaking out all over my fingers which
cracked open and bled. In a short while
they spread all over both hands. My hands
were much Inflamed and the little red pim
ples soon became a solid scale, Soon my
hands became such sights that I was
ashamed to let any one see them, and they
Itched and burned so that I could not sleep
but scratched all the time,
“I suffered this way at least four years.
I saw In a magazine that Cuticura Soap and
Ointment were good for tetter and 1 wrote
for a free sample. In less than two days
the itching had stopped and the terrible
burning was less, so I got a large box of
Cuticura Olntment and a cake of Boap.
Now lam entirely healed.” (Signed) Miss
©. Steger, Andersonville, Va., July 26, 1015,
Sample Each Free by Mall
With 32. p. Bkin Book on request. Ad
dress post-card “*Cuticnrs, Dept. T, Bose
ten.” Sold throughout the world-