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THE ATLANTA GEORGIAN
2 THE ATLANTA GEORGIAN'S MAGAZINE AND FICTION PAGE .»
9 .
Revelations
f a Wis
- By Adele Garrison.
WHY WAS.MRS. ALLIS ON THE
STAIRS IN THE MIDDLE OF
THE NIGHT?
COULD barely distinguish the
l three stealthy figures which
so cleverly imitated the per
sistent call of the screech owl,
K it had not heen for the shadows
which their figures had maile
egninst the lamp as they hurriedly
crossed before it when the call
sounded I would have had no idea
who the midright prowlers were,
DBut the shadows gave me a
shrewd idea thgt the three people
hurrying through the darkness in
the direction of the bird call were
Mr. and Mrs. Cosgrove and one of
their twin sons.
‘ I fancied that I heard the sound
of «convulsive sobbing in the dis
tance, but I was not quite sure.
My brain whirled with the mys
tery of it all. I gropped the win
dow gsill as I mentally ran over
the queer things I had observed
since the night before, when Dicky
and I had arrived at the Cosgrgve
farmhouse,
Mrs. Crosgrove's evident terror
at my assertion that 1 could tell
her twin boys apart-—something
which no one else in the house
professed to be able to do—the pos
session by the family of a collee
tion of pictures painted by Mrs,
Cosgrove's brother, which Dicky
had recognized and @ronounced to
be worth $50,000, and the queer,
furtive behavior of Mrs. Allik, our
fellow boarder, when she discov
ered that Dicky was an artist and
had an expert’s knowledge of the
pictures—all rushed through my
mind with kaleidoscopic rapidity.
THE CREAKING BOARD.
I recalled the sudden wild shriek
of joy from Mrs. Cosgrove at
Dicky’'s valuation of the picture:
“Is it really true? Think of what
it will mean to Robert——" and
the note of warning in her hus
band's voice whén he answered:
“We know what it will mean to
Robert's sister to have these paint
ings so honored.”
From the way in which both
Dicky and the Cosgroves had
spoken of Robert Savarin, I bad
thought that he was dead, but the
memory of Mrs, Cosgrove's hysteri
cal exclamatiom made me wonder
if he were met perhaps alive, and
if there was net some reason for
keeping his existence a secret,
Dicky had been so tired and
sleepy when we came up to our
room that I bad had no opportunity
to ask him about the history of the
. pictures and the artist who painted
them. 1 resolved to find out every
thing he knew about them as soon
as he awoke in the mmorning. |
It was not all curiosity that made
me wish to find out the farmhouse |
mystery, although the happenings
of the night were enough to stir
any woman's interest. But I had a
queer, indefinable conviction that
Mrs. Allis meant harm to the col
lgction of pictures in the farmhouse
parlor, while the memory of Mrs,
Cosgrove's tortured eyes convinced
me that she needed aid of some
SOrt,
But watehing at the window I de
cided was of no use. As 1 moved
away from it my ear caught the
faintest of sounds as of a door
opening on the opposite side of the
hall. A minute later a board of
staircase creaked. The person who
who was descending stairs must be
well trained to stealthy flittings, for
1 heard no footsteps until creak
of the staircase,
WHAT SHE SAID.
With a lightning flash of Intuition
I knew that the prowler was Mrs.
Allis, Had she, too, watched the
departure of the Cosgrove family,
and resolved to seize the oppor
tunity to accomplish the nefarious
purpose which 1 Dbelieved had
brought her to the farmhouse?
1 heard Dicky's snores cominz
from the corner room, and knew
that it would be very dificult to
awaken Kim. He would not miss
me were 1 gone for hours.
With a quick resolve 1 threw
over my nightdress a silk petti
voat and kimono, drew on my feet
a pair of high fur trimmed slippers,
took fro munder my pillow the elec
tric flashlight 1 ailways have with
me, and stole into the hall, On
the bottom steps, in an attitude
of listening, stood Mrs, Allis.
The light from my flashlight
gleamed on something round and
black held against her dress, For
a& moment [ thought she had =a
revolver in her hand and shrank
back in unreasoning terror against
my door, Then with a mental
execration at my own cowardice 1
looked again and saw that the sup
posed revolver was only another
flashlight like my own.
With the utmost nonchalance
Mrs. Allis glanced up at me as the
gleam of my pocket lamp struck
her eves.
“Did yon hear a noise, too?™ ghe
asked. Her tone held only casual
friendliness. "I was sure I heard
something queer, and [ at once
thought of what your brother said
of the enormous value of these
paintings. You see, when the rooms
in the house are full, as they are
now, the family sleeps 1 the bun
galow outside, so 1 knew there
was no one in the house to look
after the paintings, and I thought
1 had better see what was going
”.-
Her words and tone were po
plausible, so convincing, that for a
moment 1 dhtr‘lfled my own in
tuition which "had warned me
against this woman as being dan.
gerous. Was | making a mountain
out of a mole hill?
1 started to speak of what T had
see, then closed my lips again, 1
did not know how much Mrs, Allis
w of conditions at the farm
se and resolved that she should
peceive no information from me.
"l (Te Be Continued.)
That Expression of Sympathy When Your Rival Falls . » satereror
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Mr) “,
Good Night Stories
By Blanch Silver.
PEGGY VISITS MRS. SEASIDE
WORM,
NE day in the summer as
O Peggy was playing in the
sand by the seashore she
spled a queer little white tube as
hard as stones lying among the
pebbles,
Peggy picked it up and turned it
over and gver in her hand, won
dering what it could be, for it was
hollow: and made a funny sound
when she tapped on the side.
“Isn’t that , pretty?” asked a
merry voice, and Peggy turned
around to see Squeedee, the elfin
from Joyland, smiling over her
shoulder. “It takes some architect
to build a house like that, doesn't
nw
“House!" exclaimed Peggy, gnz
ing at the tiny tube in her hand.
“Why, Squeedee, you don't mean
to tell me that this tiny tube is a
house! Why, it's as ‘hard as a
stone!*
“Sure it's a house'"” laughed the
elfin. “And 1 just met its owner a
few seconds ago going down to the
water."”
“Well, of all things!" laughed
Peggy. ‘“What kind of a fairy lives
in sueh a house, It's hardly high
enough to be a house, and then it's
80 very narrow.”
“Plenty large enough for its own
er,” replied Squedee. “Here she
comes this very minute” and
Don’t Drink
By Brice Belden, M. D,
ANY people drink too much
M water at their meals, This
tends to interfere with
proper mastication and favors fast
cating,
Food should not be dwallowed
until it is insalivated. Insalivation
depends upon mastication, obvious
ly. Mastication is a very important
part of the digestive process.
Too much liquid with meals di
lutes the gastric juice unduly. Then
if the liquids are excessively cold
cr hot other evil results are
produced.
If the food be too highly sea
soned with spices and other thirst
provoking condiments, excessive
drinking is: encouraged, not to
speak of the s»>tting up of catarrh
of the stomach and disorders of the
liver due to the intense local irrita
tion,
The excessive use of salt is an
other factor in producing excessive
water drinking. Probably most of
the physieal disorders traceable to
the excessive use of salt are sec
ondary to digestive demnlemqfls
dependent upen undue dilution' of
the gastric juice with fluids, 5
The eating of fresh fruits and
vegetables in season goes far to
ward supplyving the norma) amount
of finid required. :
1f milk is taken with meals, there
is 41l the more reason for not im
bibing much water in addition
.
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“Oh, I'm Used to That!”
Squebdce blew three times on his
magic whistle which '~ carried at
his belt, and Peggy l)('(“lllf' s 0 small
that.the tiniest of pebbles around
ber looked like huge mountains,
and the long, slender worm that
wiggled over the sands toward
them looked like a great, big snake,
“Mrs. Seaside Worm, I want you
to meet my little friemd, Peggy,”
said Squeedee, tipping his cap po
litely. “She picked up vour house,
and I'm afraid if 1 hadn't been here
to rescue it she would have carried
it home with her.”
“You see I didn't know it he
longed to any one,” laughed Peggy.
“I just thonght it was a stone ot
some sort. I'm glad that Saueedee
happened along to stop me.”
“Oh, I'm used to that!" laughed
Mrs. Seaside Worm. “We seaside
folks never knaw whether we'll find
our homes waiting for us or not
when we leave them, But, dear me,
I'd never get anything done if I sat
pround watching my house all the
time "
“It's hecause they are such won
derful little thines” said Squeedee.
“I was just wondering if we conld
not show Peggy through vour
house?" Then he added nolitely, it
it isn't too mueh trouble?” .
*“Nothing one can do to please
one's friends should be n trouhle,
'l only be too =lad to take von
thronegh ™ and Mrs. Sfeaside Worm
led Peggy and Squeedee into her
heautiful littla snow-white, shell
like house,
Its walls were ('mlo Yink and hlue,
and the halls twisted and turned
until Pegeyv almost grew dizzy from
winding through them,
“How {n the world did vou get
them to wind like this?" asked Peg
gy. She had never seen anyvthing
quite =0 pretty.
“Well, we worms have a queer
way of building." replied Mrs, Sea
side Worm “Our halls run the
way we weave about inside them.
A house with winding halls like
thig, T think, is much =afer than one
where the halle run strajight, ‘One
has a hetter chance of hiding, for
most folke find it hard to get
straightened out when once inside”
Peggy lnughed as she and Squees
dee once more stepped out on the
shore. She bade Mrs Seaside
Worm good-by and promised that
she'd be more eareful next time not
to pick up her house and run away
with it
A Clean Newspaper for Southern Homes
Business of Homemaking
| By Mrs. Christine Frederick.
i YOUR SHEETS AND PILLOW
i SLJPS. 5
} BELIEVE it is in Texas that
: I the length of hotel ‘bed sheets
| is regulated by law. Certainly
| boarders in other cities anrd per
| haps guests in our home may wish
|*that theve were legal requirements
| in other States as to standard
| sizes of bed linen! Tt Is certainly.
true tthat in many homes no two
sheets have the same area and one
illow is not like unto another. Are
{)here standard sizes in sheets, pil
low cases and linens? Yes. ' The
most commonly used bed is the
three-quarter, frequently mfstaken
for a single size, Andother common
size of bed is the twin beds increas
ingly gaining in favor. In eithe»
case a sheet should be 39 inches
wider than the mattress. If the
mattress is 406 inches wide, ~the
sheet should measure 72, and the
same point holds true with refer
ence to a double bed, as this gives
' enough “lap” to turn under and
l cover mattress and spring satisfac
torily,
The yard stick revealed the fagt
that the modern bed varies from
six feet four inches to six. feet six
inches—a good bit longer, by the
way, than the old-fashioned bed.
| There are two,standard lengths of
Smart Dinner Gowns
By Rita Stuyvesant.
HIE mid winter promises to
I be & gay season even if one
ws' to forfeit his choice
dinner wines on the altar of pro
hibition, for great preparation is
being made in femine wardrobes.
Never before have dinner gowns
been so luxurious, and it is indeed
many seasons since we have sat
next ‘o bare arms and gleaming
white shoulders at the formal din
der table. The choicest fabrics are
trusted to the skilled designer to
Create smart kowns as he will, and
distinction and charm are reflected
in the lovely models that are being
offered for winter wear,
Black continues to enjoy enor
mous popularityy perhaps because
it is so inconspicuously attractive
and becoming to both the matron
and her younger sister the debu
tante. Black net and satin ocom
bine wonderfully well in a gown
glittering with jet beads.
© A foundation frock of the satin
with bandeau bodice and scant
skirt decides to conceal yet reveal
its shiny beauty behind as over
drape of black net lavishly em
broidered in jet. At either side of
the skirt there is a pointed tunic
of the net ending cleverly in a
short triin. The whiteness of the
shoulders is emphasized by beau
tiful drapery falling gracefully into
an attractive ;sash at the waist
line. To giva the desired oolor
note, one wears a bunen of orchids
sheets when finished, 94 inches
and 104 inches. This gives another
generous “tuck in” at both ends,
which is essential, both from the
comfort and the sanitary point of
view, as short sheets allow the
mattress to become exposed, and
hence soiled. Just as in the width
of the sheet we should allow an
excess of thirty inches, or fifteen
on the side, so in the length of
the sheet we.should allow 27 or 30
inches of material in excegs of the
actusl length of the mattress.
Now, as to pillows. Down is too
heating to be used entirely in a
pillow. The most luxurious kind
is a combination of down and best
chicken feathers. An excellent serv
iceable quality is made entirely of
good grade chicken feathers, thor
oughly sterilized, and, by the way,'
we should be proud that at least one
State has a definite law on the san
itary condition of feathers. Just as
there was so much indignation at
the quantities of Chinese hair im
ported some time ago, so the Chi
nese feathers are under the ban, and
likewise feathers from other pillows
which have Dbeen resterilized.
“Look for the label” is as important
in buying a pillow as a can of meat.
If the feathers are not fresh or new,
the label requires that they sav so
and- thus it protects you,
(Copyright, 1920, Wheeler Syndicate, Inc.)
or perhaps an Amgrican beauty
rose with this charming dinner
dress.
Next to black one prefers metal
lic cloth when she dines fashion
ably, and frem this exquisite fab
ric one 'designer has given us a
wonderful dinner gown of cloth of
gold combined with taffeta bro
cade in green and gold. The snug
bodice chooses wisely of the cloth
of gold, while the skirt prefers to
be draped of the taffeta.
As a pleasing compromise be
tween the waist and skirt “here
‘lB a slim string girdle of two tone
ribbon showing a gilt edge to the
world and keeping its green side
turned under. Green slippers and
hosiery are worn with this smart
gown.
Delightfully quaint is a dinner
frock of coral colored taffeta and
silver lace. combined with pink
tulle. Very ol timey is the tight
fitted bodice with its pointed stom
acher and tiny puffed sleeves. 'The
front opens over a lovely lace vest
and is finished with a spray of
metallic flowers and fruits,
The skirt of this pretty frock
consists of an under skirt of the
taffeta made comfortably wide and
veiled with a tulle tunic banded
three times with the silver lace. A
bit of the lace is introduced at the
sleeves. One is sure to be a social
Success in a frock of this kind,
which insures its style and dis
tinotion by its lovely lines and
beautitul colorings.
THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 12, 1920.
Married Strangers
By E. Phillips Oppenheim.
¢ ITH Dane,” he mut-
W tered. ;
She noddeg.
“Yes, that was his name—Mr,
Edward Dane. I came out to iden
tify Douglas.”
“You weren't going to give him
away,” Fhilip asked curiously.
“Of course not. I should have
made my bargain, and then, after
I had scared Douglas for leaving
me as he did, I should have said
that it wasn’'t the man. And in
stead—l found you!”
“Listen,” he said earnestly, “Dane
has always suspected me. Some
times I have wondered whether he
hadn’t the truth at the back of his
head. You can make me safe for
ever.”
“Tell me exactly how much of
Douglas’ money you have spent?”
she demanded.
“Only the loose money from the
pocketbook. Not all of that. lam
earning money now.”
She leaned across the table.
“What about the twenty thou
sand pounds?”
“I haven't touched it” he as
sured her, “not a penny.”
“On your honor?”
He rose silently and went to his
desk, unlocked one of the drawers,
and drew froem a hidden place a
thin strip of paper. He smoothed
it out on the table before her.
“There’s the deposit note,” he
said,—"“Twenty thousand pounds to
the joint or separate credit of
Beatrice Wenderly and Douglas
Romilly, on demand. The money's
there still. T haven't touched it.”
She gripped the paper in her fin
gers. The sight of the figures
scemed to fascinate her. Then she
looked around.
“How can you afford to live in a
place like this, then.” she demanded
su:zlclously. “Where does your
mahey come frgm?”
“The play.” he told her. :
“What, all this?” she exclaimed.
“It is a great success. The the
ater is packed every night. My
royalties come every week to far
more than I could spend.”
“Wonderful!” she murmured.
“You paid the price, but you've
won. You've had something for
it. I paid the price, and up till
now" ——
“Well,” he asked, “what are you
going to say to Dane?”’
“l shan't give you away--at
least I don’t think so 0,” she prom-«
ised cautiously. “I shall see Pres
ently 1T will make terms, only this
time I am not going to be left.
I am going to have what I want.”
“But he'll be waiting to hear from
you!” Philip exclaimed. “He may
come here, even.”
She shook her head.
“He'’s gone to Chicago. He can't
be back for five days. I promised
to wire. but I shan't. T'll wait
until he's back. And in the mean
time"'——
Her fingers closed upon the de
posit note. . He nodded shortly.
“That's yours,” he said. “You
can have it all. 1 have helped my
self to a fresh start in life at his
exnerse. That's all T wanted.”
She folded up the paper and
thrust it carefully into the bosom
of her gown. Then she stood up.
“Well,” she pronounced, ™7l think
I am getting used to things. It's
wonderful how callous one can be
come. The banks are closed now,
I suppose,” ’
He nodded.
“They will be open at 9 o'clock
'in the morning.”
“First of all, then,” she decided,
“I'll make sure of my twenty
thousand pounds, and then we'll
see. I don’t think you'll find me
hard, Philip. I ought not to be
hard on you, ought I?”
afl, this is queer!” ghe seur
mured reflectively. “Now I want
some dinner, and I'll see your play,
Philip. You shall take me. Get
ready quickly, please.”
He looked at her doubtfully.
“But, Beatrice,” he protested,
“think! You know why you came
here? You know the story you
will have to tell? We are strang
ers, you and I. What if we are
seen together,”
“Pooh! Who cares! I am a
stranger in New York, and I have
taken a fancy to you. You are a
young man of gallantry, and you
are going to take me out * * * We
often used to talk of a little excur
sfon like this in London. We'll
have it in New York instead.”
He turned slowly towards the
door of his bedroom. She was busy
looking at her own eyves in the mir
ror, and shé missed the little gleam
of horror in his face.
“In ten minutes,” he promised
her. ¢ .
CHAPTER XIII.
Beatrice replaced the program
which she had been studying, on
the ledge of the box, and turned
towards Philip, who was seated in
the background. There was some
thing a little new in her manner
Her tone was subdued, her eyes
curious,
“You really are a wonderful per
son, Philip,” she declared. “It's
the same play, just as you used to
tell it me, word for word, And
vet it isn't. What is it that you
gained, T wonder?—a sense of at
mosphere, breadth, something
strangely vital.”
“T am glad you like it,” he said
simply.
“Like it? Tlt's amazing! And
what an audience! T never thonght
that the people were so fashion
able here, Philip. Tam sitting right
hack in the box., but ten minutes
after I have cashed by draft to
morrow I ghall be buving clothes.
You won't be ashamed to be seen
anywhere with me then.”
He drew his chair up to her side,
a little hafznrd and worn with the
suspense {of the evening. She
langhed at him mockingly.
“What an idiot you are!” she
exclaimed. “You ought to be one
of the happiest men in the world,
and vou look like a death’'s-head.”
“The happiest man in the world,”
he repeated. ‘“Beatrice, sometimes
T think that there is only one
thing in the world that makes so r
happiness.”
“And what's that, booby?™ she
asked, with some of her old famili
arity.
“A elear conscience.”
She laid her hand uoon his arm.
“Liook here, Philip,” she said,
“the one thing I determined, when
1 threw up the sponge, was that
whether the venture was a success
or not I'd never waste a single
moment in regrets. Things didn't
Married
Strangers
By Frances Duvall,
LXV.—THE BOMB. 2
HILE Keitha was Ppreparing
W for dinner, the French girl's
card, tossed carelessly on her
dresser, reminded her of the attrac
tive stranger who had come to Amoi
ica to see her sweetheart. There had
been something childishly naive
about her admission and Keitha
smiled as she picked it up and read:
“Mademoiselle Marguerite Forest
ier.” 2
She tucked the card away in her
desk, gave a last touch to her sim
ple little evening gown and went
into the great living hall that ran
the length of the bungalow. I
The Bennetts were .all gathered
there before the fire. The sense of
compléte harmony was very appar
ent. Lester and his father wers
discussing politics with ty};;‘cal
masculine absorption. Mrs. n
nett and Anita were disagreeing on
some of the gowns worn at the tea
they had attended in the afternoon.
Both men sprang up when Keitha
entered.
“You're a good Yooking daughter,
Keitha,” said Bennett, senior, heart
ily, taking her hand and patting it
awkwardly. “You have good t:;:é:.
boy,” he added, turning to ILs r
with a twinkle.
“I'll say I haye,” grinned his son.
“But I'm tfi one who has good
taste—picking such a . splendid
father-in-law,” laughed Keitha.
“Oh, you people with your com
pliments,” sniffed Anita.- “You're as
polite as a couple of Orientals.”
“Families are never spoiled with
a little politeness, Anita,” returned
her father.
“Do you mean to infer that we
aren’'t always polite to one_ an
otheér?” inquired Mrs. Bennett, with
raised brows. “I haven't noticed
any shocking lapse of manners.”
“Not at all, my dear, not at all. S.?e
are only ‘careless occasionally.
Keitha here, never is.” .
“Oh, Keitha is perfect anyway,”
said Anita insolently. “She—ouch!
—you clumsy brute,” she addressed
her brother furiously. - *“Do you
know that you'vé stepped on my toe
and no doubt ruined my slipper?”
“So sorry,” returned Lester
sauvely, but his eyes blazed a warn
ing. “Accept my humble apologies.”
Anita muttered something, clasp
ing the toe of her slipper with one
very ringed hand.
“You should have gone to tea
with us, Keitha,” put in Mrs. Ben
nett with unexpected tact, “Mrs.
Allensworth was very disappointed.
By the way, how is your head
ache?”
Keitha flushed guiltily.
“Much better, thank you. The
sea air was very restful.”
“You didn’t seem to be doing
much resting when I saw you,’ put
fn Anita spitefully. “Who was your
gayly dressed tqend?"
“A very attractive French . girl
who joined me on the beach,” an
swered Keitha. ‘“She has comeé to
this country to see her sweetheart,
she told me. By the way, Lester, I
wonder if you ever happened to
meet her in Paris?”’ she asked turn
ing to where he leaned against the
corner of the mantel. “She gave
me her card—her name is Margue
rite Forestier.”
The smile froze on Bennett's
lips. Even in the rosy glow of the
firelight, the ghastly pallor that
swept his face was noticeable.
(Copyrigh?, 1920, Wheeler Syndicate, Inc.j
(To Be Continued.)
The Rhyming
Optimist
By Aline Michaelis.
ERE you ever interested in
W the things of which [7
speak? Have you often-
Jimes invested in the genuine an
tigne? Have you purchased many
a relic which has cost you very
high, which you once thought quife
angelic, but now irritates the eve?
Have you many wabbly tabies and
some invalided chairs stowed be
neath the attic gables and behind
the cellar stairs? And are these
the merest fraction of the treasures
that you own, serving tables
maimed In action, stools too weak
to stand alone? As you harbor this
collection, rivaling the junkman's
gtore, do you feel a real affect\r
for these things whose day is o'er?
Some folks, when they buy a table,
test its top and legs and rounds.
Chairs, they 'claim, should all be
able to support 200 pounds. They
like rockers built for rocking and
they foolishly insist locks are really
meant for locking, and that cup
boards shouldn’t list. They abhor
those freakish pieces built on fu
turistic lines, and they always
choose the species made on “safety
first” designs, But the genuine
collector hugs this solace to his
heart, though such chaps are in
each sector, they are quite devoid
of art. Periods mean nothing to
‘em and they think you're talking
Greek when yvou zealously pursue
'em. prating of yvour pet antique.
And they enter with no pleasure
into your serene delight when you
show your greatest treasure, one
worm-eaten Hepplewhite, They
oan't understand the seeker aft
things from days of yvore, and thx
say. “His brain’s antiquer than the
stuff he's raving o'er.”
turn out too brilliantly with me, as
you know. But you—see what
you've attained! Why, it's wonder
ful! Your play, the one thing you
dreamed about, produced in one of
the greatest cities in the world,
and a packed house to listen to it.
people applauding all. the time. I
didn’t realize your success when
we talked this evening. lam just
beginning to understand. I've been
reading some of these extracts
from the newspapers. You're Mer
ton Ware, the great dramatist, the
coming man of .letters. Yon've
won, Philip. Can't you see that
it’s puling cowardice to grumble at
the price,”
He, for his part, was wond{-
ing at her callousness, of which he
was constantly discovering fresh
evidences. The whole shock of her
discovery seemed already, in these
few hours, to have passed away,
(To Be Continued.) "