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THE ATLANTA GEORGIAN & &0 A Clean Newspaper for Southern Homes .. THURSDAY, MARCH 18, 1920,
£ THE ATLANTA GEORGIAN'S MAGAZINE AND FICTION PAGE .x
Boys and Girls
Sports for Boys,
How to Finish a
Handspring Neatly
By DR. E. Dx ANGELL.
“You've got to have speed for
the hand-spring,” Beppo told the
boys, “especially at first. After
you get it in good style you can do
a hand-spring from 4 standing
wm‘tinn but it is easier if you take
a Jittle run—or rather quick step
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or two toward the mat.
“Now, there is another point
that you must keep cleary in mind
and that {s the position of your
body. You have been doing tricks
based on the roll-over, with the
body curled up, but in the hand
spring you must keep the body
rigid—for all of your body must
clear the mat.”
As Beppo concluded his expla
nation he took two or three quick
steps on the mat; when his right
foot was advanced he bent forward
and touched the palms of both
hands to the mat as his legs shot
up. ,There was not the slightest
pause for his body was pushed
vigorously in the air and his hands
left the mat an instant before his
feet touched. He did not land on
the mat with a dull, heavy thud,
but as light as a feather and his
legs and body werg Dperfectly
straight.
They found that they could get
over all right and land on their
feet but each time they tried they
would fall on their back. As Allen
fell byck Beppo noticed that he
half turned and put his hand down
to break the fall and the little,
clown seemed very angry about it
and told them that they must not
try to save themselves by putting
their hands back on the mat as
that was a very easy way to break
an arm or sprain a wrist,
> “What will we do If we can’t do
that?” asked Allen. ‘“Watch me
and you will see,” replied Beppo
and he did a hand-spring. As his
feet touched he fell back in imi
tation of the boys, but instead of
putting a hand back to save him
‘self he came quickly to a sitting
position—then on his back and
continued rolling backward ' all
curled up until his feet touched the
mat.
“By making a back roll all curled
up you can break the force of a
fall and that is the way a profes
sional acrobat would save him
self,” he said as he came to his
feet.
(Tomorrow, how the automatic
coupling device saves lives.)
ON BOYS’ AND GIRLS’ STORIES
Each day on the Magazine Page of The Atlanta Georgian there is a
certain kind of a story every week for boys and for girls: Mondays, Study
Problems and Outdoor Life; Tuesdays, Handcraft for Boys and Home Craft
for Girl¢, and so on.
Which do you like best and why?
What have you made that was surgested by this department?
Do you read these stories every day, and if not, which do you read
and which do you not read?
Which de your friends like best? Do any of them make a scrapheok
of these stories? &
Answer any or all of these questions in a letter address
ed to the Boys’ and Girls’ Editor, The Atlanta Georgian.
Write only on one side of the paper and sign your name, age and ad
dress at the bottom. Also fill out and enclose in the emvelope the following
blank:
Boys' and Girls' Editor,
The 'Atlanta Georgian.
SRR QW WY W I Caeiciiansivanaiis avisibalsrenioiie ieriveieki s
BN Wit e N sve s iintiah s b ed b san kb Ae i etk
Street. City. State.
I am a boy (or) girl, and am.....e0.uv.......years old.
The story I like best is et e B SN R e
Day of Week.
TE 0 OBRIRG Sk ihh ve B R L b R e e A R TARNS et s
For the Lest letter from a boy a prize of $5 will be paid.
For the best letter from a girl $5 will be paid.
For each additional letter that is so excellent that we wish to print it,
$1 will be paid.
Wait until Saturday of this week and then send in your answers. They
must reach The Georgian office not later than Tuesday, March 23.
Business of Homemaking
By Mrs. Christine Frederick.
TIME-SAVING DEVICES,
OME 'of us are fortunate
S enough to have maids or but
lers and thus have our daily
wieals served to us smoothly and
silently by their human hands. But
saere are also many whose pock
etwook circumstances or choice
eliminate the .human servant, and
hence we have to rely more on
mechanical servants who shall help
serve our meals.
I know from experience that It is
one of the hardest details'of a
woman’s work to serve a dinner on
which she has just spent energy
and time in cooking. When she
has finished cooking she feelg like
sitting down and not ‘‘getting up”
to serve other members of the
family. More and more mechanical
servants are being put at the dis
posal of this woman,
First of these in importance is
the tray or trays on wheels. Sev
eral styles of this device are avail
able, one with two trays about 30
inches oval, fitted in a well made
eteel stand, which has three legs
fitted to rubber-tired wheels, Such
8 tray can be used near the stove
while cooking, and used to carry in
The American Girl
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Susan Kills Flu
.
With Health Rules
By MOLLIE PRIGCE COOK.
Kerchoo! Kerchoo! Out came
Susan’s handkerchief and down
went her head! “I'm really all
in,” she said.
“Now you're talking,” said Su
san's big sister, “just stop every
thing and go to bad. Don’'t eat
any dinner, take hot water and
lemon, keep warm and rest; you'll
be better in the morning.”
But Susan found several things
to do—and several things she
wanted to eat, including freshly
baked bread, cookies and chocolate
pudding. The puppy got out on
the back porch apd Susan ran to
fetch him, forgetting to put on her
hat and coat. Then she sneezed
some more.
What was the result. When
Susan did get into bed she had a
high fever, a headache, and a very
sick feeling all over. And she re
mained in bed seven whole days,
missing the taffy pull at church,
the skating tournament, and the
St. Patrick's Day party.
“Never again!” Susan vowed.
“T'll not miss another party for
any old cold.”
So Susan read up on colds. She
sent o the U. 8. Children’s Bureau
in Washington and asked for
pamphlets on diet and health. She
wrote to the Y., W. C. A. for leaf
lets on hygiene, and she read the
articles on health in the news
papers and magazines. She copied
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the rules and suggestions that
seemed most important in her
notebook:
Sleep from ten to twelve hours
every night. Plenty of fresh air in
the house, winter and summer.
Lots of eXercise (out of doors, if
possible). Drink much water (es
pecially between meals). Eat very
little candy and eake, but a lot
of lettuce and other vegetables
and fruits of all kinds. Keep warm
and dry. Wear loose, comfortable
clothes and underclothes.
Change stockings at least twice
a week. Two baths a week (if not
a daily bath). Brush teeth twice a
day. Hands and face washed be
fore meals and at bedtime. When
a girl feels sick she should stop
eating, take a warm bath, go to
bed and mind her Ps and Qs.
“That's a full program,” said
Susan to herself, “but I guess it's
easy enough if a girl gets the
habit.”
(One market the H. C. L. can’t
touch, tomorrow,)
- both hot dishes and the regular ta
ble service to the dining table.
Another silent servant is what is
often called the ‘“lazy Susan.” This
device is a revolving stand made
either in wood to match the dining
table or of glass on a similar base
or pedestal. This permits the host
ess placing a plate on the “Susan,”
which is then revolved gently so
that the plate with f{ts portion
comes opposite to the person for
whom it is intended, who removes
it and swings the “Susan” back to
the hostess, who then serves others
in the same way. Some of the
wooden “Susans” are now being
seen for the first time fitted with
special china sections, which per
mit four or five dishes to rest in
the “Susan” at once, so that it can
be revolved slowly and the person
help himself to mashed potatoes,
lima beans, etc.
Then in the matter of individual
dishes we are finding it is more ef
ficient to have one dish with three
or more partitions than to have four
separate dishes on the table. With
this dish it is possible to serve po
tatoes, two veegtables and a relish
by passing ‘ one dish instead of
four, .
(Copyright, 1020, Wheeler Syndicate, Inc.)
rftevelations of a Wife
By Adele Garrison.
HAS LILLIAN REALLY SOLVED
THE PROBLEM?
ICKY looked a bit sheepishly
Dat me when Harry ‘Under
wood told him to go with his
story of the mysterious million
aire who admired me. “You see,
Madge,” he explained, “Harry
knows this elderly admirer of
yours, I am sure, and I was tell
ing him the story to see if he
could guess the man’s name from
my description of him.”
The explanation was feeble
enough. I guessed that the real
reason for Dicky’'s rehashing of
the incident to Harry Underwood
was the vague uneasiness he felt
concerning the meaning of Rob
ert Gordon’s strange interest in
me.
“How ridiculous you are, Dicky,”
I said impatiently, for this dis
cussion of me with Harry Under
wood annoyed me extremely. “As
if Mr. Gordon ever had any thought.
but a kindly memory of my mother
in his asking to be introduced to
me.”
“Who said he had!” retorted
Dicky with a shrewd, quick look
at me. My cheeks flushed as I
recalled the tacit admission I had
made, and then Harry Underwood
joined the conversation.
“Robert Gordon, eh!” he said
triumphantly, but when he saw the
chagrin in my eyes at having in
advertently given him the name
with which Dicky was tantalizing
him, he added sootningly: ‘“Don’t
you care, Mrs, Graham, I would
have guessed it in another minute.
There is only one man on Broad
way who answers the description
Dirky was giving, and that 1a
Robert Gordon, ‘The Quester.’”
“The Quester?” I repeated won
deringly.
“That's what Broadway has dub
bed him. You must remember the
chap I mean, Lil, the fellow I told
you about who's always haunting
the cases and sits alone as if he
were watching for somebody.”
WHAT HARRY SAID.
I remembered Dicky's vivid de
scription of the man, “watching,
always watching,” even as [
turned apprehensively to Lillian.
She had been with me on the day
when the mysterious Mr. Gordon
had first seen me at the Hotel
Sydenham, and methodically fol
lowed me until he had found out
my name and home, I had not told
Dicky of this espionage, had even
managed to give him the impres
sion that T had never seen the
mysterious stranger béfore the eve
ning when Dicky had introduced
him to me. Mr, Gordon, himself,
at that time had spoken of see
ing me before and of his efforts
to find out who I was, but evi
dently Dicky had taken it for
granted that I had been in ig
norance of those efforts. At the
first opportunity I meant to tell
Dicky the truth, but I hated to
have it revealed to him by a
chance word when we were in the
presence of others,
But I need not have feared Lil
lian's discretion. Her expressive
face showed no trace of knowledge,
only interest and curlosity.
“I certainly remember your yarns
about him, Harry. Whether I had
ever met him or not is a question
which T am debating in my mind
now,” she said lightly, 1 think
Harry’'s dramatic soul yearned to
kidnap the gentleman and put him
in a playlet, melancholy smile,
watchful waiting and all.”
“I'd sure like to kidnap his ma
zuma,” Harry Underwopd chimed
in fervently. ‘“Wonder if T went to
him and volunteered to be a sort
of assistant Quester .if he would
loosen up with some of his kale?”
He stopped, looked at me quiz
zically for a second and then
sfruck the table a blow with his
fist that made the glasses dance.
“I have {t!” he said. “I'll bet
vou're the object of his quest.,
Now you really ought to let me
in on this, Mrs. Graham. I could
take you by the hand, lead you to
the old boy, and say: ‘Here is the
lost heiress of the fortune you stole
from her ancestors, and for whom
your remorseful soul has been look«
The Rhymin
Optim ?s t
By Aline Michaelis.
H, the smart man is a wonder,
with his flock of brilllant
stunts, and it’s hard to keep
him under if he just gets started
once. He is quick and ‘he is know
ing, understands the why and how,
and he helps to keep things going,
does this gink of lofty brow. You
can bet he's always winning, for he
knows just what to do and he sets
old Earth a-spinning just like she
was spanking new, It is great to
be the master of a flock of ancient
lore and to reel off Sanskrit faster
than t'was ever done before, Smart
guys feel no hesitation when they
meet Old Man Cube Root. Mental
stunts are their vacation, calculus
they think quite cute. Yes, their
feats are most surprising, and their
game can not be beat; they are
bound to keep on rising and they
do it tout de sweet. But one thing
is sornetimes missing in the learmed
fellow’s act, and the gallery goes
to hissing if he hasn’'t any tact.
You have seen the sort of chappie
who could rub your fur just right;
with whom every one was happy,
every day crammed full of light?
You have met him—always smiling,
always saying what he should, all
the dreary days beguiling with the
magic of his mood? Then I'm sure
you have not worried, as upon his
words you hung, over wheiher he
was flurried by the ancient Hebrew
tongue. Yes, I'l bet you've scarce
ly noted if he knea anatomy,
though his stock you've always
quoted with its limit as the sky.
Cleverness is very jolly; but I'd
have you note this fact-—folks can
stand n lot of folly If it's salted
down with tact, f
ing, 10, these many years!' Then
when he turned over his dough to
you, little yours truly would get his
share.”
“That's one certainty, that you'd
get yours!” Dicky retorted, laugh
ing, and then he added thought
fully: “You sure would have
thought Madge was the lady of his
search the other night if you had
seen him keel over when she told
him her maiden name. I thought
he was in a regular swoon, but he
rallied, and passed the incident off
by saying he was subject to spells
of faintness.” ¢
“What's that?” Lillian asked
sharply, and I saw her manner
change in an instant from idle
curiosity to alert attention. “Tell
me what happened.”
LILLIAN |S “MYSTERIOUS.”
She listened, attentive, absorbed,
as Dicky described in detail Mr.
Gordon’s emotion when in answer
to his questioning I had told him
my maliden name, and his declara
tion after further questioning that
he had found the daughter of his
dearest friends, that my mother
was the best friend he had ever
had, and that my father had been
In one of our long confidential
talss at the house in Marvin, while
Grace Draper lay hovering between
life and death in Lillian’s apart
ment, I had told Lillian of the life
tragedy of the little mother I had
Idolized and of the father I had
never known, the father who had
run away with my mother's best
friend when I was 4 years old, and
had never been heard of since. I
knew that she must read the rid
dle of Mr. Gordon’s interest in me
as I had. He must have loved my
beautiful mother hopelessly. The
indefinable aversion with which he
surrounded his mention of my
father’s name showed how he re
sented his desertion of my mother.
But Lillian's manner puzzled us.
By adroit questipning she secured
every bit of information Dicky
could give her about Mr, Gordon's
appearance, conversation and ac
tions upon the night he had taken
his after dinner coffee with us.
Then she plied her husband with
questions about the romantic his
tory of the man.
“Oh! zinc the questions, TLillf”
Harty Underwood said irritable at
last. “What are you trying to do,
solve the mystery all by yourself "
“I think I have solved it,” Lil
lian returned quietly, “but I shall
not tell even Madge about it until
I am sure I am right.”
(To Be Continued.)
Copyrighted, 1920, by Lever Bres. Co.
(Good Night Stories
By Blanche Silver. :
MAMMA AND DADDY SCARLET
TANAGER BUILD THEIR
NEW HOME.
T was a lovely warm day when
l Mamma and Daddy Scarlet
Tanager returned to the cool
shades of the woods,
They had traveled far without
much rest, were tired and hungry
and terribly cross, at least, Daddy
Tanager was, so Mamma Tanager
thought. Any omne out ot sorts gen
erally thinks everybody else is
cross but himself, so daddy felt
Mamma Tanager was exceeding
fussy.
Daddy Tanager spied a corner in
the fence rail that was marked “for
rent,” and setting down his heavy
grip, of course, it waan’'t really very
heavy, but Daddy Tanager was so
cross it felt like a load of bricks,
and mopping his forehead, he de
cided right then ani there that the
corner in the fence rail was as
good as any place to build their
new home, and in a very decided,
curt tone he told Mamma Tanager
80.
“Oh, dear me!” chirped Mamma
Tanager, hopping over to the cor
ner of the fence rail. “I don't like
this location at all. Why, it's—"
but she got no farther, for ruffling
up h\s red coat around his neck
Daddy Tanager threw his grip into
the vacant spot and sat down upon
it with a mad -chirp.
“Now what about it!” he exclaim
ed crossly., “I prefer this apart
ment to one in the oak tree!”
“Well, I'm the one who hag to
stay in it most of the time,” said
Mamma Tanager in her quiet little
way. She had often seen Daddy
Tanager cross, and she knew it
would be best not to fuss. “Don’t
vou know, daddy,” she said in her
sweetest tones, “It'§ so near the
ground folks will spot us too quick
ly. Then, besides, we nave no leaves
over us to keep out the storms.
Do you think that would be advis
able?”
But Daddy Tanager was SO Cross
rented the corner of tne fence from
he couldn't see his wife's reasoning,
olid Billy Rabbit, shaking out his
red feathers proudly ¢ gan to work.
Mamma Tanager Bhook her sober
little head, stamped on the ground,
pulled out a juicy worm, swallowed
it, and began to gather bits of twigs.
Before long their nest was ready,
and a dicorderly looking nest it was,
with nothing but the blue sky above
it and great cracks in the bottom.
The makers of Lux announce
a new form of soap for the
tamily washing
o As wonderful for plain laundering
as Lux is for all fine fabrics
Different from anything you have ever used before
Ww 2| NEW. form of soap!
7\ /=% | Different from anything
15 DY (&'&‘ you have ever used be
)4 fore! _
‘ Not a cake soap! Not
- S w! & chip soap! Not a
nadft =8 ‘“‘washing powder”’!
But a new high-grade soap product—
in fine granules.
Its ingredients are of finer quality than
tose used in any other family laundry
soap!
It is so mild, your nicest sheets and
tablecloths soak as safely with it as in
water alone.
It is so rich in cleansing value, it loosens
all the dirt while the clothes soak—with
out boiling—without any hard rubbing.’
Rinso brings a new way of washing |
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“l Don't Like This.”
Mamma Tanager looked up among
the cool leaves of the oak tree
and sighed as she setiled herself in
her new home. Daddy Tanager,
like most folk who get their own
way, tried to make nimself think
he was proud of his new home, but
his heart smote him as he flew
away after food for his wife.
“Not a very good place for stormy
weather, after all. Maybeé it would
have peel better in the oak tree.”
he thought as he pulled out a nice
bug from the grass. Daddy Tanager
took it back to Mamma Tanager,
who was trying to make herself
comfortable in her wretched nest.
That night a storm broke over
the meadows and Marama and Dad
dy Tanager had to fly to the oak
tree sfor shelter. 'When they re
turned io their nest the next morn
ing it was soaked and all falling to
pieces. Mamma Tanager never said
a word, but Daddy Tanger pulled
her off the nest when she attempted
to sit on it.
“I should say not! Whoever
heard of a Scarlet Tanager build
ing in a fence corner!” he laughed.
“I've found the very sgpot—way up
in the top of that bheautiful oak
tree.”
Clever Mamma Tanger crooked
her pretty, sober head and looked
at the oak tree with a critical eye
and with a twit as much as to say,
“Oh, of course, if you say so,” fol
lowed Daddy Tanager to the tip
top of the oak tree. There they
built their new home and lived.
happily ever afterward.
The Rinso granules, dissolved first in a
little water, stir up into a soapy, bubbly
tubful. You leave the clothesin over night,
or for three hours in the morning.
And Rinso has done the work—it has
loosened all the dirt just by soaking. You
simply souse the clothes up and down, and
rub a few badly soiled spots, cuff edges, etc.,
lightly between your hands in the wonder
ful Rinso suds. Then rinse well—and the
whole tubful is sweet and spotless!
You need never boil your clothes, except
occasionally, if you want to sterilize.
Don’t have even one more of the old
back-breaking washdays.
! Try the new way of soaking your
clothes clean—this very week. Get Rinso
from your grocer. One package will do
your whole week’s washing. Lever Bros.
Co., Cambridge, Mass. (Makers of Lux.)
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Married Strangers
By Frances Duvall :
AFTERNOON TEA.
HE stateroom semed unbear-
I ably stuffy to Keitha, in spite
of the open porthole which
admitted the tangy breath of the
salt air.
She slipped out of her frock and
donner a warm negligee.
A roll of the ship sent her stag
gering across the small floor space.
She landed on the couch at the
opposite side and got up with an
increased feeling of unpleasantness.
Climbing into her berth, she laid
her hot cheek against the cool pil
lows gratefully. After a few min
utes, the unpleasant feeling passed.
and she slept more soundly than
she could ever remember,
A knock outside her door brought
her back to consciousness. She
opened her eyes to find that twilight
had descended. The fittings of the
stateroorn were vague blurs.
“Does madam wish tea?” asked
the voice of the stewardess she had
passed on her way to her cabin.
Keitha debated the thought of
tea.
“Yes, thank you,” she replied
without enthusiasm.
The stewardess entered, bearing
a tray on which were a dainty tea
service, sandwiches and smail
cakes.
“You may take back the cakes,”
said Keitha, when the stewardess
had switched on the lights. “I'll
have just the tea and perhaps a
sandwich.”
The woman looked at her sym
pathetically.
“Madam is not getting seasick?”
“I hope not,” smiled Keitha.
“Wouldn’t it be too stupid of mie?”
She po red out a cup of tea
and chose a sandwich cut like a
star,
The woman, busying herself
around the stateroom with a re
arrangement of the towels, a touch
here and there to Keitha's ivory
toilet articles, gave her an amused
glance.
“Madam is not seasick if she can
endure the sight of a sandwich.”
“But it is very good,” protested
Keitha, taking another. “I feel
horribly sleepy and not too com
fortable when I stand up.”
“It will pass,” replied the stew
ardess comfortingly. “Your hus
band enquired for you. I told him
you were sleeping. Shall I call
him? Perhaps he would like his
tea served here.”
“Oh, no,” protested Keitha. “He
- is fond of the sea, let him stay on
deck.”
“You do not like the sea?”
queried the woman, as she took the
tray.
“I am fascinated by it—but I
think I fear it,” Keitha replied
frankly.
The stewardess turned her head
to the porthole and her eyes fol
lowed the broken line of the slate
grey waves in the mist.
“Twenty yvears I have followed
the sea,” she said slowly. “Do
not fear the sea. It is kind, kinder
than most people.”
“Is there anything more, madam?”’
she added briskly, returning to her
official self, ?
“Nothing, thank you,” answered
Keitha, preparing to curl luxu
riously again into her pillows.
The stewardess went out, drop
ping the curtain behind her,
Keitha lay for a long while
watching the sea through the oval
of her porthole. She was wide
awake again and her thoughts re
turned to the Beunett household,
to the French girl waiting to claim
a fiance who would never come,
most of all to Marcia Holmes,
speeding eastward to take up life
again where marriage had forced
her to leave it off. N
She was dozing again when Ben
nett’s quick step in the corridor
outside her stateroom awakened
her.
“Keitha,” he called, “may I come
in?”
At her assent, he entered, switch
ing on the lights, and turning to
regard her anxiously.
“You poor kiddie,” he sald with
more tenderness in his voice than
she had ever heard.
He knelt by the berth and took
her hands in his.
To her own infinite surprise,
Keitha turned her face against his
shoulder and began to cry softly.
(Copyright, 1920, Wheeler Syndicate, Inc.)
(To Be Continued.)
RESERVING HIS POWERS.,
“Who is your favorite composer?”
asked Mrs. Glensome. ‘“Bethhoven,”
replied Mr. Blakes. “You must be
a student of music,” remarked Mrs.
Glensome. “No,” replied Mr. Blakes.
“I mention Beethoven for the sake of
relieving myself of conversational
strain, If the other man doesn’t like
Beethoven he won’t want to hear me
say another word. And if he does,
hel’;l‘ want to do all the talking him
self!” !