Evening Star Newspaper, March 2, 1935, Page 19

MAGAZINE PAGE. Morning Frock for Matron HE BY BARBARA BELL. | MODEL representing the in- | vasion of the ruffled mode into 1 the house-frock realm is| after tubbing, it can be smoothed into | shape with a quick pressing. Percales are ideal, too. They can be found in tie-print designs, which have great dignity in either the bright or A i ' | subdued tones. Dimity and lawns were shov\nvm mdg). s]design. ]?‘he | never prettier. They have everything dress is practical, appealing, |, recommend them—clear, fast colors, and, of course, becoming. The new | soft textures, surface interest and collections of tub frocks are alto- | adaptability. 3 gether so trim, so smart, so full of re- | Barbara Bell pattern No. 1442-B is : | designed in sizes 34, 36, 38, 40, 42, 44, finement and finish that women are | 46.155 and 50. Size 36 requires 313 getting more than a full season’s } yarqs of 36-inch_ mabennl.' 75 yard of supply since they intend to mgkelafi-lnch contrasting material. s | Every Barbara Bell pattern includes ih;';‘ double for morning and home | . "\ trated instruction guide which | is easy to follow. Cottons have a way with them this season. Aside from the appeal of color | and design, the texture is softer and | more pliable than in other seasons. Most of them are preshrunken, and many are anticrease. Ginghams— plain and figured—top the list of | luxury cottons. They come in clear pastels and in strong red, blue, brown, terra cotta, green and navy. Seer- sucker is the busy woman’s delight. It is in several weights, this season— | sheer, medium and heavy. Medium is | recommended for house frocks, and is | Barbara Bell, ‘Washington Star: Inclose 25 cents in coins for pattern No. 1442-B. Size.iese Name .. Address (Wrap coins securely in paper.) priceless as a time saver, because, CHAPTER XVL CAREFUL PLAN. E NEED,” said Montana, 113 “a man to hold our horses in the right | place. Pascual will do it for us. We also need ‘soup.’ Have some dynamite boiled down during the day to get it, Mateo. Get the fuse and the rest we’ll need to blow a safe and some yellow soap | to run a mold.” “What safe?” asked the bandit. “Up in the tower is the room of the Governor, with his office in front of it. And in a corner of the room there is an old safe, but a strong he re the emeralds in that safe?” asked Rubriz. “How can I tell? But if they're not in that safe, where would they | be, friend?” “Very well. That is one thing learned. What else?” . “Here is a plan of the inside of the fort. Every room and every gal- lery is marked down. And all the courts. And the sentry posts are marked in red, you see?” “I see,” said Rubriz, poring over the plan. “All that we need now is 2 pair of wings to fly over the walls, unless the sentries are ready to shoot us out of the air.” “Come to meet me, tonight, just after dark, at this same place. wait here the rest of the day with me,” said Montana. “Pascual can get the horses, in the meantime. He can keep them down in the willows | by the bank of the river. You know where the willows are thickest, down there, Pascual?” “I know,” agreed the friar. “Ay, but how to get into the fort?” demanded Rubriz. “That will be managed. I know # certain way to tap on a certain postern down at the bottom of the wall above the river. And my tap will bring out a certain sergeant with ‘a smile on his face and his hands empty. If he leaves the door open behind him, can we trust our- selves to get inside, friend?” Rubriz began to swedt. His face shone almost as brightly as his eyes. “What lies inside the door?” he asked. “A guard room with two private soldiers inside.” “And these two?” “There are only two of them, Mateo.” “Ay, but 2 can alarm 10,000.” “There was never any good plan without a little risk in it,” answered El Keed, shrugging his shoulders. “Look!” muttered Rubriz to Pas- cual. “He is a devil, eh?” “He does a work in the name of a kind God,” said the friar devoutly. “And how do you know that the fool of a sergeant will open the door when you tap?” “He is not a fool. in love.” “Hai, brother! And you know the girl a little better than he knows her?” “Five hundred dollars worth bet- ter. That's all.” “It's & good bit of difference.” “He's told her that if she ever comes to that postern and raps on & in-e certain rhythm he'll be out » He's only a man Or | instantly and have her In his arms. If he should put his hands on Mateo Rubriz, instead, that would be only | his hard luck, I'd say!” | * Kk K X Down among the willows the light thickened earlier and there was a tone of green added to the gloom. | Here, as the day ended with its sud- | den fires in the sky, Rubriz and Mon- | tana met the big friar. Brother Pascual was gravely and | deeply excited. He led his own mule, | the great black stallion of Rubriz, and that red-silk beauty, the mare of the Kid. As the darkness seemed to lift in a wave that closed at last ‘over the walls of Fort Duraya the | friar said: | friends, it seems to me that {be happier than any other man in “If I could go with you, I should ; the world.” “Three men can be seen where | two might slip by,” answered Mon- tana. “And knowing that you're out | here, waiting, will make us that much itronger, it we ever get inside the, ort.” “Wait for us till the morning,” | said Rubriz. “Then wait again to- | morrow evening. If we have not come by that midnight, go your way ‘nnd forget us. Give my stallion to | the bishop, if he’s brave enough to | | ride the black horse.” | “And take the red mare,” said | Montana, “a good two days’ march | into the mountains. When you come | to grass and water, and no man’s | house in sight, turn her loose with- |out a strap on her back.” “I shall do it,” said the friar. “I swear under the eye of Heaven. Brothers, give me your hands.” They were given to him and he exclaimed in his great, deep voice: “We three are bound together. The warmth of our blood commingles |and the breath of one spirit moves in us. There is more than the strength of earth in us. Bishop Emiliano prays for you tonight. Be strong. Be patient. And I shall wait here and pray in my turn. If only I could fill my hands in this work, instead of filling my throat with words.” ‘When the honest friar had finished speaking the quick dark of the night already had closed over the town, and Montana and Rubriz went up the slope toward the fort through the first blackness. They were close to the black and rigid heights of the fort wall when they paused, out of a common im- pulse, and looked behind them. All! | the stars were shining except toward | the east and south, where thick | clouds had unfurled close to the horizon. Perhaps a storm was moving up from that direction. I But all was placid and the night , was so windless nearby that they could see the thin faces of the sun,‘ in the shallows of the river loop near the willows, where the good brother Pascual was waiting for them. “Now, I tell you this,” said Rubriz, softening his mighty voice to se- crecy. “It is better to have the naked prayers of a fellow like that Pascual :;‘am; a hundred strong men at your ok Tomorrow, Mateo and Montana tap on the postern gate. THE EVENING STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C., SATURDAY, MARCH 2, 1935. Bedtime Stories BY THORNTON W. BURGESS. How Reddy Fox Helped. In judging others pray be slow. "Til all the facts you really know. —Reddy Fox. HEN Reddy Fox left his cou- sin, Gray Fox, caught in & trap he felt thpt he had done all that he could do. He had advised Gray Fox to tear himself free from that trap, even though . in doing this he must lose three toes. He had no real love for this gray cousin who had moved into that district recently, but he couldn’ bear the thought of anybody suffering 2 trap. m“I nmpn(rflid he won't do it,” said Reddy to himself, somewhat con- temptuously. “He hasn't the nerve. What he needs is a sudden fright.” He trotted on and tried to forget Gray Fox. After all, it was no busi- aess of his. If his cousin was not smart enough to keep out of traps, he would have to suffer the consequences. That was the law of life. Be smarter than the other fellow or pay the price. It looked very much as if Gray Fox would have to pay the price, the very highest price, unless he had nerve enough to tear free from that trap. He worked over toward a farmyard just hoping that there might be & chance to get a fat hen. There wasn't. There wasn't for the very good reason that a Dog, a hound, was lying in the sun close to that henyard. The sight of that Dog gave Reddy an idea. He yapped sharply. The Dog lifted his head. Reddy yapped again. The Dog was on his feet. Once more Reddy yapped and this time the Dog replied and started after him. Reddy turned and headed straight back for the ledge where Gray Fox was caught by three toes in the trap. Yes, sir, Reclldy head- ed straight for that very place. “If this doesn't do the trick that fellow deserves to die” muttered Reddy. For a time he headed straight for where Gray Fox was a prisoner, but just before coming in sight of that spot he turned off a little and then began to circle around just out of sight. of Gray Fox. Perhaps you can guess how Gray Fox felt when he heard the voice of that Dog drawing nearer and nearer. He knew that Dog was chasing a Fox and he guessed that it was his cousin Reddy Fox, who only a short time before had professed so much sym- pathy. “Now he is leading that Dog straight here. He knows I am helpless and that Dog will kill me” he thought bitterly. Nearer and nearer sounded the bay- ing of that Dog. Gray Fox began to struggle as he had not struggled since first those dreadful jaws had clamped on his toes. In his frantic fear as :he Dog steadily drew nearer he hardly felt the pain of those imprisoned toes. He plunged. He twisted and turned. He tugged. Any instant he expected to see Reddy Fox come out of the HE TROTTED ON AND TRIED TO FORGET GRAY FOX. bushes with that Dog behind him. ‘And then, just as it seemed as if they {must break out of the bushes into the | opening, the sound swept past. | Gray Fox gave a sigh of thankful- {ness and relief and for an instant stopped his struggle that he might better listen. In a moment he knew that the danger was not over. Reddy Fox was circling. Any minute he might turn and bring that Dog straight there. Gray Fox began to plunge and struggle harder than ever. Hark! That Dog was coming now as straight for that spot as Blacky the Crow flies. There was something red moving in the bushes! It was his cousin, Reddy Fox, and Reddy was heading straight for him. How Gray Fox did hate his cousin at that mo- ment! He made a last desperate plunge and—was free! Yes, sir, he was free! But three toes were still held in that trap. Turning, Gray Fox disappeared down in that hole in the ledge. Reddy grinned. Then he set about the task of fooling that Dog and so getting rid of him. “If it hadn't been for me Gray Fox would still be a prisoner, but he doesn't think of it in that way,” thought he. “I helped him, but he thinks I tried to have him killed. How easy it is to misjudge others.” (Copyright, 1935.) MENU FOR A DAY. BREAKFAST. Grapefruit. Oatmeal with Cream. Maple Sirup. Coffee. DINNER. Cream of Cauliflower Soup. Roast Duck. Cracker Dressing. Apple Sauce. Mashed Potatoes. Broccoli. Hollandaise Sauce. Tomato and Watercress Salad. French Dressing. Strawberry Shortcake. SUPPER. Escalloped Oysters. Parker House Rolls. Frozen Custard. Sponge Drops. Tea. GRIDDLE CAKES. Take one pint lukewarm water or a little more to half a yeast cake. Let dissolve. Mix with graham flour to form a smooth batter, not so very thin. Let this rise over night. In the morning add salt and about a level tea- spoon of soda dissolved in a little boiling water. Fry on a hot greased griddle. maple sirup. STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE. ‘Two cups sifted bread flour, one heaping teaspoon baking powder, one tablespoon sugar. Sift into mixing bowl and work in a piece of butter the size of an egg. Beat one egg lightly in a cup. Fill with sweet milk, add a speck of salt and turn into & bowl. Mix soft and divide into two portions. Roll out and put one piece in a round tin, butter the top and put the other piece right on top of that. Bake in a quick oven. Split and spread with butter and one box of fresh strawberries, washed, strained and mashed, with four good cups :::n. Spread between and on Coffee. Dorothy Dix Says “Inhospitable” Not to Invite Young Men Into House at 2 O’Clock in the Morning, Daughter Insists. EAR MISS DIX—Should a girl ask a boy into her house when he brings her home at 2 or 3 o'clock in the morning from a party? The girl maintains there is no opportunity for con- versation at the movies and subsequent dance hall and that it is very inhospitable just to say goodnight at the door. Her mother says it is a social error to have a young man visit her at that hour of the morning and that it will cause gossip. She says that it is very annoying to those who are asleep in a small house. The girl is not engaged, and brings in different young men almost every night. Which one is right—the girl or her mother? ANNA, Answer: The mother, absolutely. It is the height of impropriety for a girl to entertain man visitors at that hour of the morning, and after the neighbors get through saying what they think about it she will not have a shred of character left. IT 1S the most unmitigated selfishness for her to be willing to, break up the rest of a family with her dates. Nor are her reasons for keeping this all-night vigil an excuse for such conduct, for if she so pined for corversation with the youth she might have stayed at home and indulged in a talkfest instead of going to the movies and the dance hall Furthermore, it is a safe, bet that the young man would not regard her failure to drag him in for another hour’s talk as a lack of hospitality. He would look upon it thankfully as a reprieve and a chance to get a little sleep. Many young men don't date girls because the girls are never will- ing to go home from a place of amusement. They are not satisfied with going to the movies or the theater. They always want to go on from there to supper or a night club or take a drive, anything that will keep them up until dewn. At a dance they can't be dragged away until the goodnight number is played and then they can always think of somewhere to go from there. So the wise youths, after a few rounds with Tireless Sadie and All-Night Mamie, let some other lad take them to parties, and they go stag so they can leave when they please. HAVE often wondered that girls show so little heart to boys in this matter, for they are under no illusion that the boy friend is a mil- lionaire playboy, who can sleep half the day, after being up all night. ‘They know well enough that he has to punch the timeclock on the dot, and that if they keep him up until 3 or 4 or 5 o'clock he cannot possibly get more than two or three hours’ sleep and that he must go to work tired and dull, fagged in mind and body, and in no fit condition to do the kind of work that will bring him advancement, or even hold his job. T also wonder that hostesses, most of whom have sons whom they want to see succeed, and who, in any event, want their daughters to marry up-and-coming young men, do not start their parties earlier and end them at a reasonable hour. Certainly the Society for the Preven- tion of Cruelty to Dumb Animals ought to do something to protect the young men. DOROTHY DIX. * k% % DEAR MISS DIX—I am married end am in love with another man. The man I was in love with and I quarreled for the millionth time and parted. Then the man who is now my husband came along. He tell in love with me. I could not bear to hurt anybody as I had been hurt, so I married him, thinking perhaps it would heal my own hurt heart. Iam a good wife. I make my husband happy. But I am miser- able. I am still in love with the other man and it so happens that the three of us are thrown much together. I want to play fair, but I cannot change the way I feel. Is there anything I can do? DORA. Answer: The greatest mistake that men and women ever make is to think that marriage is some sort of patent cure-all for blighted affections. They can't get the man or woman they love and want, and Sonnysayings BY FANNY Y. CORY. They tell me the bluebirds is here— (Copyright. 1935.) Salix Nigra. OOK over your scrap book and swimming, and, of course, take angling lessons of friend Kingfisher. see how many willow trees you The black willow owes its name to l . Nature's Children have in it. You will be seeing its bark, found on old trees. As this BY LILLIAN COX ATHEY. Black Willow. L many of them this Spring and Summer, as you go fishing, water lover has such a wide distribu- tion—that is, from Newfoundland to Florida, west to the Rocky Mountains, ! and again in California—of course you will want to recognize it at once. While the black willow loves to have its toes in water, it will climb moun- tains, cross arid plains and establish itself in a new country, through the agency of birds and winds. It is al- ways in a cheerful mood when you see its dancing leaves, and it grows to 50 to 100 feet high. The soil and moisture govern its prosperous ap- pearance. The feature you should look for to | identify the tree is the pair of leaf- like, heart-shaped stipules hanging on throughout the Summer at the base of each leaf. The leaves, of course, WOMEN’S FEATURES. DAILY SHORT STORY-: DARK Murderous Schemes for Retr ROAD ibution Were Futile, for Nell Was Dead—Dead From an Act of God. BY DON ALLEN, painted deep shad- owos under the red-rimmed eyes of the thin, wasted man who sat at the window, legs wrapped in a faded quilt, his nose pressed against the | blackened screen as he stared un- ‘seeing into the still darkness of the oppressive night. The with vague shapes which melted away only to re- appear again and again. On the corner where the lane straggled away - from the road a single light hung from a pole, shed- ding its bilious glow over the dumping ground to the east. It was late; only an occasional car flashed by with tires singing on the sticky tar. ‘The man sat quite motionless save for nervous fingers which fumbled ) with a scrap of paper he held in his lap. When he coughed, the racking cough that shook his narrow frame s0 cruelly, he could feel the outlines | of the object which pressed his side | as he sat there; it was his old cervice pistol. Days long since torn from calendars passed in procession through his mind; first, war days, bringing the sound of drums, the sight of olive drab and the sickly scent of the foul gas which had for so long a time kept him helpless in his chair. Followed quickly the sweetly bitter memories of first days with Nell. days unblemished by the hacking cough and the sudden stabs of pain which had touched him soon thereafter. Life, such of it as was left to him, came from Nell. It came from the nickels and dimes and occasional quarters, the pitiful small coins people left behind them after they had eaten food Nell brought them from the noisy kitchen of the Acme lunch room. Nell had never seemed to mind the burden that he was upon her and he | had been so blind that he never would | have suspected had he not looked into her purse the night before. He Heard the Last Street Car Stop. notice it. “To- night's my late night, you know.” Well, soon it would be over. The long still hours of the night had brought him his answer. All day, through the twi- light and into the darkness, he had been waiting. Waiting for Nell to come home to him for the last time. In the quiet of the night he heard the last street car stop at the end of the line. His pulse quickened as his shaking hands laid the pistol in his lap. Minutes passed. ‘Then he could see Nell coming up the main road, hurry- ing, elmost skip- ping. “Her heart is light,” he said with a wry smile for none to see. | Nell started to cross the road at | the corners. There was the sudden, noisy roar of a speeding motor; glar- | ing lights blinded her. She stopped— hesitated—tried to retrace her steps. “Look out!” he shouted hoarsely, | trying feebly to raise himself from | his chair. But his voice was drowned |in the shrieking of brakes. | Neighbors awoke and hurried out |to bring home the broken body he | had loved. He scarcely looked up at |them as they carried her past him jand laid her tenderly upon the bed | which they had shared. | His friends looked upon his drawn !face and spoke in whispers, mind- | ful of his grief. One by one they | passed out with faces averted. There \was something terrible in the man's silence. One man lingered behind, touched him on the shoulder gently, and | handed him the worn purse. “I picked | this up in the road,” he said uncom- !fonably, and hurried out. + Nell was dead, dead from an act | of God. He drew a breath which hurt ]‘ deep inside. His world had so changed in so short a time. He stared at the purse he was holding, then laughed shortly and opened it. It was the purse that had opened his eyes, wiped them clean of illu- so they marry some stranger in the idiotic belief that there is some magic incantation in the marriage service that need only be said over them to make them forget the acored ones and be happy and con- tented with the wives and husbands they have espoused. NO’I‘HING of the sort happens. Romance is one of the blessings that brighten as they fade, and the mere fact that the old love is for- bidden now makes it the more alluring and makes the marriage one has rushed into more distasteful. No one can ever make a real success of such a marriage, no matter how hard he or she tries. Always there will be lacking of what makes it vital and worth while. The fire to the kiss, the spontaneiy to the little act of kindness, the tenderness that springs from the heart and is not just a matter of duty. BUT one thing is certain. When a woman marries a man she does not love, she is in honor bound to stick to her contract and not break up his home because she finds out that she has made a mistake in thinking that marriage would cure her of love for the other man. She can still go on and give a good performance as a wife. And she can try to see the other man as he is and realize that if she had married him she would be even more unhappy than she is at present, because the more we love, the greater power to torture. The best remedy is children. Supplant one love with another. No other power is so potent to drive an old love out of your heart as a baby’s hand. And your community of interest in the children will draw you closer to the man you have married. Many women who have never been in love with their husbands fall in love with their chil- dren’s father. DOROTHY DIX. ‘What had prompted him to open |Sion. Now he knew. What matter if Nell's shabby bag he could not say. | he found more in it to hurt him? He had snapped it open idly and| He took out the small coins, watched without purpose to find that scrap of | them trickle through his fingers onto AR MISS DIX: My husband DE Iy and I have been married nine years and have one child. I was a very pretty girl and he was much in love with me when we were married and we were very happy for the first year. Iam a good cook and housekeeper and very affectionate, but our trouble is that I have very little education. Don't like to read, while my husband is a brilliant man, has a college degree and a wonderful posi- tion. Now he is tired of me, never speaks to me except to tell me how dumb I am. Goes out to banquets and dinners and social affairs and clubs while I sit at home and cry with loneliness, for he is ashamed to take me with him because I wouldn’t fit in. He has no affection for me, for the physical attraction is gone. Tell men to marry in their own class and not break some poor girl's heart by marrying her and then beeing ashamed of her. Answer—When we speak of a A WOMAN WHO KNOWS. man who has outgrown his wife our sympathy is always for the man who has lost touch with his wife, be- cause he has gone forward while she has stayed put. We pity him be- cause he has no companionship at home, and think how lonely he must be, tied to a wife who cannot enter into any of his hopes and aspirations, nor understand when he tries to tell her of the secret thoughts that a man reveals only to the woman who is the other half of his soul. BU‘T if we have tears to shed, the one with whom we should bedew them is the outgrown wife, the woman who has lost the little hold upon her husband that her physical appeal once gave her, the woman who knows that her husband is tired of her and ashamed of her, not because of anything that she has done, but because she is just as she was at the time that he picked her out for & wife. The poor wife has nothing to make up to her for having no com- panionship in marriage, for her husband is just as boring to her as she is to him. She is no more interested in his books than he is in her pots and pans. So the man who marries a girl who is his intellectual in- ferior, just because he is temporarily caught by her pretty face, does her a greater wrong than he does himself. He ruins her life more com- pletely than he does his own. (Copyright. 1935.) Who Are You? The Romance of Your Name BY RUBY HASKINS ELLIS. 'THIS s an illustrious family of Erin and has produced notable sons and daughters in many parts of the world. Strange to relate, one O'Reilly was a Spanish general in the middle eighteenth century. Count Andrew O'Reilly was an Austrian field marshal, born in Ireland in 1740. The Most Rev. Edward O'Rellly was Arch- bishop of Armagh in Dublin in 1606. Another Edward O'Reilly was a noted Irish author. Hugh O'Reilly was a famous barrister in Ireland, born in County Caven. He served as master in chancery and clerk of the council under James II. Col. John Reilly (or ORellly) was the celebrated com- mander of the Reilly Dragons in Ire- land, which regiment he raised and maintained at his own expense. He was the first to drop the O in the name, but it was afterward by his descendants. ‘The O'Reillys use on their coat armor an emblem that is a favorite device of the Province of Ulster— “Lamb dearg Erien’—the Red Haud | of Ireland. Its story is connected with one Niall or O'Neil, ancestor of the Princes of Ulster, who was in a | company of seamen in search of new | territory. When the green isles of Ireland were sighted, his boat was larl behind his competitors, but to carry out his ambition to be the first to| touch shore, he severed his hand from his wrist and flung it ahead of them, | He was awarded the lands of Ulster. Many Irish families use the bleeding hand as their family symbol. American Reillys and O'Reillys set- tled chiefly in Maryland, Virginia, New York and Pennsylvania, but are found today living in practically every State. (Copyright. 1935.) How It Started BY JEAN NEWTON. Astrology. STR.ANG!:LY, astrology is considered ; seriously by a great many people | as a scicu.e—the science of foretell- | ing, by means of the consteliations, | the future of nations and individuals. | Originally, among the ancients, as- trology was synonymous with astron- omy, which is, of course, a real science. Then astrology assumed the personal aspect and it came to be practiced by charlatans, self-appointed prophets and seers, and many others of ques- tionable repute. The word comes honestly by its as- sociation with the heavens and plane- tary bodies, being composed of two Greek words meaning to discourse on the stars. 10360 are narrow, but this is the only willow whose foliage is the same shade of green on both sides. The leaves are, as a rule, curved like a sickle. The flowers come along at the same time the leaves appear. Look for | them on the short lateral twigs. The | fruit, which soon develops after the insects visit the flowers, consists of loose, racemed capsules. The seeds are tiny, and easily carried by the wind for long distances. The brittle twigs are slender, and break with the slightest provocation. They take root wherever they have enough moisture to encourage them to do so. As you have found out by experience, growing willows is an easy thing. Willow posts, set out green, will, in a short time, furnish a fine row of trees. Where you wish to im- prove your land, and there is a moist | situation, plant willow twigs. Their | Toots help to drain the land and hold the water to its rightful course, | All willow wood is uniformly weak and light. The wood should never be compared with hardwood, but it serves |a purpose.that is most important in tits own way. The tough, flexible twigs of many species are made into wickerware, so much in demand. | Tannin is obtained from the bitter | bark, and the light soft wood makes excellent gunpowder. It is interesting to know that, of all the trees we have, the willows grow in every climate and soil, and from the Equator to the Arctic Circle every soil has its native willow. (Copyright. 1935.) —_ Everyday Psychology BY DR. JESSE W. Vocations. IMOST young people have a pretty good notion about what they would like to do. Their vocational ideals have been developing for years. So when they put vocational questions to adults, as often as not they are merely seeking confirmation on a mat- ter that is already settling in their minds. The situation is not very dif- ferent from that of the fellow who has just bought a new hat. For a few days thereafter he keeps comparing his purchase with the offerings still on display in the shop windows. ‘Young people are great imitators. Sometimes they idealize and talk about vocations which they have no real capacity to pursue. As they ar- rive at the late teens or early 20's, they sometimes sense the errors in their dreams. Then they wonder if they have not possibly made a mistake. Hence the vocational questions. ‘The immediate relatives, especially the mothers, have noticed signs of this growing youthful vocational ideal. That's why so many parents think there is a vocational instinct. How- ever, there is no such instinct. The parent who fancies that this so-called instinet will some day provide the answer to vocation may live to learn that it has deserted its host. N The Debunker BY JOHN HARVEY FURBAY, Ph. D. SPROWLS. “CAMELS' HAIR BRUSHES” ARE NOT MADE/ FROM THE HAIR OF /CAMELS T IS hard to guess why the name of a camel should be in any way associated with the common, fine- pointed brush called the camel’s hair brush. The only 1eason that seems sensible is that these brushes are very soft, like the fine fabrics that are made from camel's hair. The ma- terial used in camel's hair brushes is hair from the tails of Russian and Siberian sjuirrels. (Copyright, 18359 < paper which had swept sleep from his tired eyes for this age-long night and day. “Dear Nell,” he had read on that slip of paper. *“Sorry I couldn’t make it today. See you tomorrow night. Everything is set. h He bit his lips hard as he thought of those torturing words. Nell had fooled him. It was like losing faith in God to lose his faith in her. Now he understood the excitement she had shown as she hurried to go to work that day. Her eyes sparkling, she almost danced with eagerness. Eager to meet her lover, he thought bitterly. “Must run, darling,” she had said, kissing him on the cheek as she hur- ried out. He cringed, but she did not Does Jim sus- | the floor. Yes, there was another note. He tore it in two without un- folding it, looked at the pieces, then slowly opened them out and held them together that he might reaa | the message. Why not? “Dear Nell,” he read. “I got tkLe | loan for you. Get your things packed : up and ready to go early in the morn- | ing. Mary and I will call for you and Jim and take you down to the sta- tion.” | He read the message over again slowly, shaking his head. A cold hand crept under his heart and pressed it until he could scarcely breathe. His trembling fingers explored the purse and found something more— | two long strips of green paper, two | tickets to Arizona. (Copyricht. 1633.) i Modes of the Moment ormal for sprfng- means fullness at shoulders and hem. Liama Wenssins How to Live 150 Years BY EDWARD ! T MAY seem unreasonable to| Americans who have become ac- customed to much sickness and McCOLLUM. understand what materials will build the kind of body you want. These materials we call foods, and the study {of them, and their relationship to the premature oid age to say that it | pody-health, we call food science. was undoubtedly the plan of our | Maker that we live at least 150 years. The weakest part of the body—the ear—should last that long, according to the great scientists who have made it their business to know such things. The same group tells you that the strongest part of the body is the heart, |and that it will stand up 700 years 1f |glven the proper care. Then man's body should last somewhere betweeni '150 and 700 years, according to the | findings of modern science. ‘Why, then, do we seldom see people of great age as we travel about the country? Why do we consider a i“child of 70" about ready to retire and be cared for by his children until he dies? | Manufacturers know the answers to | these questions, and they use thaml 'every day in their business. They | know that the life of a product largely ! depends upon the quality of the ma- terials from which it is constructed. You, and you alone, are the manufac- ‘turer of your own body, and every vital part of it. You alone know the | quality of the material you are using. | Every time you sit down to a table | to eat you are in reality building a| body. You build a healthy or a sick one, or perhaps you are neither healthy nor sick, just so-so. But you can take your choice when you select | your food. About all you have to do is to make a serious study effort to In this problem it will be necessary | to compile all the data and informa- tion available and usable. We should consider such problems as overweight and underweight. We may consider | the causes of the common cold, or hay fever, asthma, and their relation- ship to the daily food supply; the stomach disorders, and all the gastric disturbances that may be caused by wrong eating. We should include in this study the causes of toxic condi- tions that result in many different ailments. You may think that such a study as I have outlined will be a burden to you, and tax your patience. On the” contrary, you'll find it the most fascinating study possible, because what you learn today you use to- morrow, and you begin to benefit phy- sically at once. A study of yourself is the most interesting study you can engage in, and the most profitable. (Continued next Friday.) Overtaxed by speaking, sing- ing. smoking