New Britain Herald Newspaper, June 3, 1927, Page 16

Love’s Adele Garrison’s Absorbing Sequel to Embers “Revelations of a Wife” Beginning Red Beard and Veritzem Stalk Through Madge's Dreams Katle sniffed reproachfully as T told her that we would better for- get all about the men in the shack back of the farm, because Dick told me they were not dangerous. “Dot alvays vay,” she said. “You nefer tink anything happen till it do. Den you vake oop. I tell you dose men shoost like snakes in gra und you look oudt dey don’t bite you. Vot Meester Graham vant? Vill he let Junior go oop play mit dot dog?" | o, he does not trust them that ie,” I returned, *“although says the men would return him y if he did stray that far. sh Junior to remaln in the vard and orchard, and I shall ask ch him while T am gone to “How long you goin’ he gone?” she askel. “I am not quite sure,” have some shopping to Junior, so I shall stay with Underwood until T get it complet “All right, T fecx,” she replicd and went out, while I resumed my pacing of the room, my vanity more upset than I care to acknowledge. Katie's weird story definitely had | established one thing in my mind. Dicky had recognized one of the un- pleasant and mysterious neighbors, and he shared with the man patent- ly disguised some prodigious jest which he did not intend to share with me. His statement that Junior was in no danger from the men fitted in with his behavior, but his warning to me concerning Eleanor Lincoln was diametrically opposed to it. If the red-bearded man was 8o harmless that we need have no fear for Junior's safet with Dicky a secret affording as much mirth as Katie had described, why should he fear that Miss Lin- coln would be annoyed by him? As I ranged uneasily up and down the room 1 rememhered with un- nny distinetness what Dicky had requested of me. He had asked me 1o cultivate Miss Lincoln’s acquaint- 1 returned. do for M y had | v, and also shared | a New Serial ance, to make the girl feel so much | {at home at the farmhouse that if she were frightened by the red bearded man she would rush to us| |a8 if to a sanct ¥ Was it possible that Dicky, | ohsessed by his desire to obtain the | girl a model for one of t AT -‘ acters in a historical novel he ,lo illustrate, was delibe !ing upon my generosity ? little shudder, I stopped my p.\cmg and began to disrobe, determined to | banish <I| troublesome thoughts. ‘ It w a long time before 1 went| to \lwp even though T tried every means in my power to induce slum- ber. I counted sheep, said the mult- | plication table backwards and for-| wards and r ed to myself all the por I knew, but it long past | midnight before I closed my eyes. And even then T was not free from the worries which had perplexed my brain. Through ec | the | of ms s d-beary Iked 'd man sation with Dicky Katie had given me so vivid a description | Fantastically Dicky trailed him, for- | ever shouting the phrase 1 had heard |trom Katie as coming from his lips: | 10 touches a hair of that red | he figures melted away and hanged to that of Philip Veritzen, ! all, stately, alv Ismile upon his lips as he reg: me. I dreamed that to every sug- gestion of mine he returned a dis- avproving comment until in despair | I asked him: “What do you want then?” In my dream I regretted the ques- | tion, 1 Mr. Veritzen lean | toward me, ce changed into derness, ¢1d ask me significantly: | | for of my alarm clock | me from the thraldom of} my dreams. I wuas glad, indeed. to remember that T could snatch a nap car chair of the carly train. { er Feature | his NEW BRITAIN DAILY AERALD, FRIDAY, JUNE 3, 1927. My Sons Slueeticarts NLYSTRATED AND COPYRIGHTED BY JOWNSUN FEATURES INC. Phillip Wynne Tracy IV brings| Natlee Jones to his house in the car is mother has just given him and sks her to give him $10 to take atlee to Arrowhead Inn, As ie leaves she tells him to come |back early and she becomes very angry when he does not come home until three o'clock and she finds that he has proposed to Natlee and hopes to marry her before he leaves Jones, who is the Tracys' i milkman, objects quite as much to Phillip as Mrs. Tracy objects to Nat- . Phillip’s mother tells him that a | | fricnd of hers is coming to stay for 'a while |glve a party during that time. Un- consciously she interests her son in {the woman. She also tells him that |she has nightly prayed that he (would never make s woman as unhappy as his father has made her. Without the knowledge of his mother Phil plans that Natlec shall come to the party with Rodney Max- well, *his friend, and then goes to the train to meet Mrs. Hilliard, She {flirts with him as though he wer srown man. Meantime Rodney takes Phil's u 583 to Natlee, which she doe (ot believe comes from his mothe Here the story further unfolds P CHAPTER VIII Love's Delicious Pain As Phillip Wynne Tracy IV helped is mother's friend into his roadster nd wrapped the robe about her he | was distractingly aware of slender ankles in the thinnest of thin stock- ings and of tiny feet whose insteps | were completely covered with shin- ing cut steel buckles. ‘To hide his en stopped a mome: . Over the flaring match he r!w face of Lyra Hilliard, It was not the kind of face he had vxpected to find, particularly from his mother's intriguing description. At that moment she was looking | stralght ahead and there was a pe- culiar, almost childish, wistfulness in the red brown eyes that made lim want to press her head down on saw weep while he quoted something don’t cr and that she is going to| nbarrassment he | t to light a cigar- | fur-coated bLreast and let her | mlo his. “I wonder—if )ou diq? Philllp did not answer unless an pirated around the table to where involuntary ~movement toward her | was an answer. A fierce emotion of | rebelllon came into his conscious- | herself. All the while she had on v had he been born too Up until this morning he had never thought that love was any- thing like what he was feeling now nothing that he had ever felt for lee hed prepared him for this terrible pain and breathless joy t | were so much alike he could not scparate them. He wondered if this woman ting beside him could read his thoughts, He felt his heart contra as he thought that she must have loved before bLecause she was mar- vled—hé speculated on her husband | —he wondered what she was going to say to him next—was he carryin off the meeting as a man would do? Would she laugh at him if he told |her now that he loved her? His heart was beating like a trip tham- mer, his throat was so dry he seemed dying of thirst, | He drow up at the restaurant door and for one blissful moment she dropped into his arms as she stum bled out of the roadster. “How strong you are pered as she straighten up beside nim. “I would have fallen in my awkwardness If you hadn't caught me."” “It was nothing” he answercd | | gruffly. “T just happencd to be there and the doorman was not—that was {alL” As though to steady her up the |steps he put his hand upon her arm |and again he was sure he felt her lean—it cver so lightly—upon him. With great pride he led her across | the room, passing a table where | Jerome Kenvon, Bill Husted and Jack Kilgore were sitting. These youths were all older than | Phil. year and sometimes he had felt that they looked upon him almost as a baby—well—they wouldn't do this iy more. He caught that by the | ifting of Bill Husted's eyebrows and (he surprised, if low tones, with which Jerome Kenyon exclaimed, | “Look who's here. He could, however, have killed them glecfully, for they arose for- mally as he and Mrs, Hilliard came [hearts DA McGlONE GIBSON | Kilgore after Sit- | 52y of a reputation, but from the |found that the red brown eyes had he sat and picked up his eyes and | n some way taken them back to her mouth a rather amused, absent- minded. smile. “I never expected to have the joy of lunching with four handsome young men,” she exclaimed to Jack Jerome Kenyon had ordered the chicken a la king and salad. “Already I can see where every girl in the room is hating me. “I've never asked much in = the looks of that young woman over there I know that little will be taken away from me in this town before I have hardly awrived. All the others hastened to tell her that that could not possibly happen and assured her that her reputation ! was perfectly secure from any jeal- and in unison, |'smile,) but I shall insist that one|through it but both would be enrag- | They had been at college a| ous hurt, but Phillip kept silent, his eyes still on her face. “Do you all dance?" s ked. . ey he suddenly auswered with enthusiasm “Well, if that's the case I shall xpect at least one of you to be at | |every party to which I am invited she whis- | and rescue me from the bridge | tables, where most of my hostesses | will probably think I belong. “I will not play bridge. I may be | | older than some of those who are vounger (she said this with a sly and all of you will lle like gentle- {men and say both to yourselves lxld cveryone else that I am not old | enough to settle down to cards.” | “You can count on me,” said Bill | ]lustfld “And me—" “And me—" added Jerry Kenyon and Jack l\'il-l gore. R | Mrs. Hilliard lifted her eyes to his face. He thought he detected a look | |of disappointment and was glad. “Speaking of dancing, Mrs. Hil- | liard, Mother is not golng to set you down to bridge. She is going to give you a dinner dance next week." All the others at the table groan- ed and Bill Husted said: “Of course, she will invite only her own frien to that, and you, Phil, will be Iucky | enough to dance with Mrs. Hilliard Wwhile we cool our heels outside look- ing in.” | | accident. ! Lyra had been killed.” “And you do not mean to tell me that you have never fallen in love with her—why haven’t you?" “I expect it's because I have never tried.” “Deat man haven't you learned yet that nobody ever falls in love with anybody if he tries to do so. You wake up some moraing or go to bed some night, as the case may be, head over heels in love—you { don’t know how, when or where you got that way—you only know that one of Cupid's arrows is sticking in your heart and is giving you the most delicious pain you ever knew.” “Yes—I've learned that, but so lately that I am afrald I was not sure of it until you told me, Mrs. Hilliard. Therc is Mother on the steps and it is half past three. She has probably bcen worrying for fear I have killed you in an accident.” “More likely Anne thinks that I have kidnaped her son.” e o CHAPTER IX Phillip Insults Rodney Phillip Wynne Tracy IV was not concerned with what his mother | would think of himself and Lyra. He { was only telling himself that he had been a fool to be in such & hurry to | invite Natlee in that round-about way and without his mother's | knowledge to his party. | Now he would have her on his hands. He knew his mother well enough to know that she would | guess immediately when Natlee ame in with Rod that he had fixed it all up. She would know that old od nover would have sense enough to do it. Neither had he himself shown much brilllancy in this silly play. He was sure now that not only his| mother and Natlee would see ed at him for putting them into a | humiliating position. He had cer- tainly fixed it so that he would have no time to devote to Lyra—yes, it had reached this stage already—he | found he was thinking of the woman beside him as Lyra. He was profanely calling himself names as he drew up to the curb. Even before his mother greeted | l\lrs Hililard she asked impatiently, | | “Where in the world have you been | Phillip? T thought you had had an 1 expected to hear -that| “There—didn't I tell you that was | what I know she would say?” He| whispered as he again had the thrill | of her body almost within his arms as he helped her out of the road- ster. His mother came forward and ! with Rodney Maxwell, Lyra saw his face. He looked s0 solemn Phil grinned in self-defense. As he got into the foadster, even before Phil could ask a question, "Rod blurted out: “I told Natlee, and ‘Wynne, she would not believe that your mother had anything to do with the message I took to her. I know she was sure that Mrs. Tracy would not ask her to come to a party at her houss in that way.” “What do you mean—THAT way —what In hell are you talking about? Did Natlee say she doubted ME?" “Not in so many words, but I could see that she thought it was queer that your mother did not at least send the mcssage by you in- stead of telling you to tell me to tell her and also to tell her not to tell you or to tell your mother about it. “Well if you gave the message in the same way you have given the explanation to me I don't blame her for not belteving it. message to you in the first place. I see now that I was as much of a fool as you are.” “That lets me out of it, Wynne— | will you please stop the car?" “What's the matter now? “I can't fool Wynne—even my best friend.” *'Oh, come off Rod—I called my- self the same thing."” “A man may call himself a fool one else calls him one.” “Oh, if you feel that way about it there’s nothing to do but stop the car and let you walk hom This Phil did with loudly crash- ing brakes and In stubborn silence { Rod got cut and hailed another bus. *'Of course that clever little devil | would see through my clumsiness,” sald Phil to himself as he drove on further downtowa. “She just stalled | poor Rod along while she planted the thought of her doubt in his mind so that he would come back and |tell me. Now she expects me to go after her 50 she can bawl me out good and plenty for thinking for a | moment that T could fool her in any | her—T'll keep out of that girl's way for a time. It will do her good not do.” - With this resolve he put a héavy { foot on the gas and rode down to- | ward Greenwich Village. Philllp Wynne Tracy TV felt that | at this stage of his affairs he want- ed to be alone. “Did you notice the girl who was asked | “I don't know why I intrusted the | let any one call me a| Wynne and still resent it when some | way about anything. But I'll fflol‘ to know just what I' am going to | I were that girl I saw on the avenus this afternoon I would hang onto him whether you liked it or not.” “Hush, Lyra, 1 don’t like to hear you talk that way—I know you don’t mean it." “Don't be too sure of that, Anne.” Lyra Hilllard busily jabbing her cigarette stub into the ash tray be- side her hoped that if Anne Tracy saw the tears in her eyes she would think they euuu from fits acrid smoke. 3 (TO BE CONTINUED) o e o Phillip is badly entangled, engag- ed to one girl he finds himself in love with another man's wife., Read tomorrow how it comes out. Your Health How to Kee| Causes of BY DR. MORRIS FISHBEIN Editor Journal of the American Medical Association and of Hy- gcla, the Health Magazine. Sir Clifford Allbutt, one of the greatest of the British authorities on | heart diseass, sald to his puplils: “Tell a patient with heart dlsease to find out what he can do and do it; | tell him to find out what he cannot | do and never do it.” The one hope of prolonging life, in these patients is to keep their actlvities within the functional ca< pacity of the damaged organ. Pere sons with heart disease should avoid occupations that involve sudden efe fort, such as lifting heavy weights, or the constant use of the arms as in swinuning, in sweeping, or in hammering. In general, any exere cise that the patient can take with- out becoming short of breath or | feeling paln will be good for him. The chief prescription, however, i3 rest, which is the first advice when« | ever any symptoms appear, In order to provide rest for a weakened heart the physician will usually prescribe a diet that is low in protein material, low in sugars, | Inmited as to flulds which make a greater quantity for the heart to push through the blood vessels, and | capable of easy digestions. The person with heart disease should not | overeat, because the products of di- Egvs!ion are an added burden in the | circulation, and because a full atom- ach may, in some positions, press | Anne Tracy when they were seated | upward on the diaphram and seri~ in her little sitting room. \nllsl) affect the movements of the ot particularly,” lied her friend | heart. about “There, little girl, |they have broken your doll T know. Then he blushed, for he was think- “Oh, don’t you worry—you'll all | placed a light kiss on Mrs. Hil- abreast of their table saying. “Hello. pe given a chance—Mother and Mrs, | lard’s cheek. Phil, we're just lunching. Won't you OLD MAN COYOT! PLORING By Thornton W. Burgess. Be independent, but T prey Accept of aid that comes your way. 014 Man Coyote looked up at Sam- my Jay, who sat perched out of reach above him. going exploring. There is some- 'hing strange in the Green Forest xnd I'm going to find out about it.” *“Just what I should do were I in| vour place,” aid Sammy. “Why not do it anyway Coyote asked. ning what?" asked Sammy. “Meaning,” replied Old Man Coy- ote, “that while I am exploring one part of the Grecn Forest, you ex- plore another, and then we'll mect and compare notes.'” “It's a great idea,” said “What shall T look for?" Old Man Coyote grinned. .for me,” faid hie. Sammy chuckled. The fdea tickled him. “All right,” said he, “I'll go | where I know you are not and look for you there.” “That's it,” cried Old Man Coyote, grinning broadly. “That's it! You go and look for me where I am not, and if you see me, come and tell me.” “I will,” said Sammy, and both chuckled. , | Then S8ammy thought to ask Old | Man Coyote what part ot the Green Forest he was going to explore. Old Man Coyote told him and Sammy agreed that he would explore the other part of the Green Forest. “Now where shall me meet asked Sammy. “If I see you, I want t0 be able to come and tell you I've seen you.” At that Ol4 Man Coyote laughed right out. “All right,” said he, “if you see me over in your part of the Green Forest you come over to t 4am of Paddy the Beaver, and I'm not there, wait until T come. 8o Old Man Coyote trotted away for the Green Forest, | g stralght for that part from iwhich that mysterious voice had seemed to come. And Sammy Jay fl other direction. Old May Coy very crafty. When Old Man Coy tries o run quietly, he can run very quletly, It was very dry, for the had been no rain for many days, and 0 there was very little scent left by those who passed. You know. it takes dampness to bring out scent. Old Man Coyote wasn't dependent on his eyes, but on his nose, and for once his nose failed him. Once twice he caught just the suggestion of a scent that made him tingle all over, but it wasn't strong ough for him to be really sure of it. He saw nothing and he heard nothing to explain that mystery finally he gave up and frotted over to the dam of Pad Beaver, deep in the Green Forest, to see if Sammy Jay had had any better suc- coss, 012 Man Coyote had rea pond of Paddy the Beaver 4 trotting along the edge of it toward the dam when he came to a muddy place, Old Man Coyote stopped as suddenly as it he had baea frozen in his tracks. In that muddy place some footprints. The | imt he them he knew that they were footprints of a stranger. Y 0ld Man Coyote knew that a stran. | been there not long ahead | of him. How he did stare at those | footprints! You see, it was very hard work to belleve that hel ally was looking at what he sesmed to see. He simply stood there and starred with all his might. Then he cautiously looked this way and v, and his yellow eyés fairly 0Old Man Sammy. “Look | if wers saw t sir, | {ing that a man could write a hook i | Old Man oyote trotted away for | the Green Forcst. | owed. “Well, what luck?" asked a volce. It startled Old Man Coyote. He had quite forgotten that he was to meet Sammy J. (Copyright, 1927, by T. W. t story: “The Unbelievable Burgess) | The n T ootprints Menas for the Family (BY SISTER eakfast—Rhubarb real, eream, rambled bacon, ecinnamon coffee toast, milk, c 3 Luncheon—Corn mato sauce, Boston adishes and onions, sliced pine- apple, plain eake, milk, tea. Dinner—Casserole of mutton, greens, rhubarh graham rolls, currant coffee, The dinner is a simple ‘two-piece s0 to speak. Scveral varieties! of vegetables are included in the casserole dish and the greens tape | the place of a salad. A dinner of this sort is ideal for a & v or evening for the dish cad | to a minimum, just the dinner plate, | bread-and-butter plates and dessert | plates | MARY) sauce, e cake, crisp | loaf with to- brown !‘rvvud.[ | heet and strawberry ple, ! jelly, milk. | Cinnamon Coffee Cake Two eups flour, 4 tablespoons light Lrown sugar, 4 tablespoons butter, 4 teaspoons haking powder, 1 egg. 1-2 cup milk, 1 tablespoon powdered namon. 1-4 cup seediess raisins. teaspoon Mix and it flo cing powde and salt. AdA sugar and mix well. | ub in butter with tips of finger: Teat egg with milk and cut into first | mixture adc milk ad on | cake with cinna- mon and press rais into dough. ¢ minutes in a hot oven more Spro floured Sprin and shallow D P\II‘ (I ASSIFIED ADS Everybody will like Q. B. | gested {lunch with me |1 knew that you were ple !cause yon are {brown eyes of poems not only about her wistful eves, but of her slender ankles as “Where are you golng to take me, man?” she interrupted his thoughts s she nestled toward him. Why, T thought you were hun- Pillip answered with boyish | directness. “Of course, and very that you you were polite about ttering. You sug- were pleased to because T was, but Tl s 1 knew what it hungry. she asked, turning ird him and the glorious stared disconcertingly For a blissful moment she dropped into his arms as she tumbled out of join us?” He turned to Mrs. Hilliard polite- She of course, could do nothing sc but accept their damned invi- on. He knew they considered 1t a great joke and he reminded himsclf that he would pay them out and pay them good for it. In the meantime there was a lit- | { Iy, ta tle contusion over introductions and | go wondered what he could do to| getting chairs and plates adjusted at the table. Then, much to his cha- grin, he found himself across from Mrs. Hilliard, while she was scated between Jerome and Jack He w d to get up their faces, which were plastered all over with trinmphant grins, but he was a little comforted when he the roadster. and punch | He ! others to detain | world Hilliard will be the only—" he stop-l ped and stammered, for he found he | had been going to say “middle- | aged women there.” Lyra Hilliard looked quickly at Phillip and then at the others | around the table. Her mouth droop- ed as she realized how young they | were. Phil knew he was classed wmw the others, even when he told him- self fiercely that he was different. keep from being submerged by that callow group. “Who's your mother going to in- | Phil?” asked Jack Kilgore. | “All you fellows, of course, be- | sides Rod Maxwell and Plerre Mar- quart,” he answered. hoping that they would not ask about the girls. | couldn’t tell them -that Natle was coming—neither could he let them into his plan, for now he did not want Jjod to bring her. He tholight he would get away from the table as soon as possible and see Rod again, If he had not| alrcady seen Natlee he would call the whole thing off. He would tell | Rod that his mother had decided, after think over what Mr. Jones had sald, both to her and to her son, | that she could not consistently have | anything to do with any of his fam- ily. He looked across the table to Mrs. Hilliard. What an she was! She arose left, in spite vit understanding woman and immediately they of all the efforts of the them. As it was, the fellows all followed them out to the car. He was glad that not one of them mentioned it—it showed | that they envied him. | And truly he was to be envied, for | a moment later, as they drove away, | Lyra Hilliard turned to him and | said: “They're nlce boys, your| friends, but some way they strike | me as playing at being grown up. They do not have that man-of-the- air which always fascinates | me."” Thillip found his splrits fagging ns they drove slowly home, for he knew that when they arrived he would have to share Lyra Hilliard with his mother, e told himself that he had hard- Iy had her long cnough yet to get used to that wild thing she had put in place in his heart. ! He was not any happler to see Rod and Natlee coming out of Mil- together, for he knew It was 100 late—Rod had already asked her to go to the party with him. He was doubly sure of this by the and waving hands with which v hoth greeted him. Who was that beautiful A Mrs. Hilllard. That's Natlee Jone he an-| swered. “She, Rodney Maxwell, who was with her, and myself have been | playmates all our lives." | girl?” Merely Margy, An Awfully Sweet Girl | to the party? ignore her altogether? Ho had cer- | “I hope dear that this foolish boy of mine has not bored you stiff. I told him to take you from the train | to luncheon, but I did not expect | | him to make a day of it. You see 1| | had such a “I told Mrs. Hilliard about your | | headache, Mum,” broke tn Phillip | brusquel contributed Mrs. Hilliard, | ed him to | take me to luncheon and when we | arrived at the restaurant—Phillip— | | there was the slightest hesitation before she pronounced his name as though she were afraid she was tak- | g a liberty—"met some of his | | | ! triends and we all sat down togeth- | er. T had a nice time, Anne, and I didn’t think it would matter for 1! | knew of old that usually these head- aches of yours hung on until ev ning. “Whom did you see Phillip?” ask- ed Mrs. Tracy as she linked her arm | | in her friend’s and paused a moment | | before she started up the steps. “Oh, just Jerry and Bill. them about the dinner dance Mum #o you had better get the invitations | out as soon as possible.” With this he raised his hand to his bare head and turned to get into the roadncr again. “You're mot going to run away | are you Phillip?” Mrs. Hilllard ask- “I think I will for a little while,” | | he_answered, hoping his eyes were telling her how he wanted to stay. “You and Mumsy will have so much to talk about. I saw Rod down on the avenue Mother and as I passed T thought of something wanted 1o tell him.” “Are you sure it was not some- thing you wanted to say to that pretty girl who was with him?" ask- ed Mrs. Hilllard with a smile. “Was Natlee Jones with Rodney? sharply inquired Mrs. Tracy. “If she was T hope, Phillip, you will try to keep away from him un- til he is alone. After the insulting | way her father talked to me I hope vou have decided to break with his | daughter, Phillip felt a shiver run down his | What if Natlee did come Would his mother backbone. tainly let himself into a scrape this time, Impulsively he decided to keep out of Natlee'’s way until he had seen Rod. Then perhaps he could | find a way to keep her from com- | ing. Fortunately as he drove down- | town he caught sight of Rod on top of a bus evidently on his way home. He gave their familiar whistle, honked his horn and drew up at the | curb. Rod stopped the bus at the next corner and came back to him. Phil knew that he had some hate- | ful news for him the moment he| told | I composedly. “I wish you had.” “Why 2" “Phillip thinks he is in love with| her and it is worrying me not a| Hitje" “Oh, T wouldn't fre much. It's like the measles you know—all boys have to fall in love many times before they marry “But I'm afraid it's serious, Lyra. about it You know he is very young, he has| got to finish his education and be- sides, to tell you the truth, she's not the kind of a girl 1 would pick out for him any “Why do | Anne?” remarked Lyra lazily as she lighted a cigarette. Haven't you learned yet that wvour son will never marry the kind of a girl that you pick out for him.” “Why are you so sure of that, Lyra? You never had a -son.” “Probably that's just the reason 1 know it. “Both mothers and boys say to me things that they would not say to ich other and from what they have told me T know that a woman is al- | wa happy when she marries off her daughter—she feels that she has | | | set her up in her rightful business— | but she is always unhappy when her | son marries, ilost to her forever. | daughter-in-law, but unless her son- in-law is perfectly | welcomes him with open arms. | “But how foolish for us to be talking like this—there is no danger to go through certain emotional up- heavals before they realize what the | word love means. It is strange to me {that he has not dons so | this.” s, T know all that, when boys do very strange things— he is only a little over seventeen years old my dear, hut sometimes he scoms older to me than T am my- se “That's all In your brain, Anne, for I have rarely met a younger and | more cnthuiastic mind. He seems to be fairly quiveriig to catch up life and twist it In his fingers. He tainly is the most refreshing );.muh 1 have met in a long time. He | has all his thrills before him. T envy ! him, Anne. T envy him. And what- | ever clse you do, don't worry over his first sweetheart, for it you begin | worrying now. lord knows what you | will do in the future. That boy will I have many sweethearts. He's the kind of male that draws all women to him.” “Yes, He probably takes ! netism from his | Anne. “Whoever he takes it from he has It. T don't mind telling you that it hat mag- father,” sighed ORNING, NSV} 7),‘\ \ uu‘w YOU LEND By HOW u bother about that, | Hilllard | for she knows he is| “A woman never quite likes her| impossible she of Philllp marrying the first girl he | | thinks he isin love with. Boys have | before Lyra, but| T also know that he's just at the age | The physician may prescribe drugs which are secdative and serve not only to help the patient sleep but also lower the threshold of stimulation of his nervous system | and thus permit the patient to re- spapd less readily to minor irritas tions. A drug such as digitalis has the power to slow the heart and to regulate and strengthen its beat. All (of the drugs that are used in tha | control of heart discase are power- ful for harm as well as for good if they are not prescribed in proper | doses glven at the proper time., Certainly they should never be used in attempts at self-treatment. The number of deaths from heart discase for each 100,000 persons rose steadily from 161.2 in 1901 to 202.4 in 1917 and has remained | rather steadily above 175 ever since. The increase in the death rates from heart disease has given great con- 1(‘!‘"\ to both physicians and publie | officials. The prevention rests in | porper attention to focal infections in early life and In proper attention | to infections and to a suitable per- | sonal hygiene in middle and later | life. It is an old saying that a wman is as old as his arteries. If the patient’s general health is good and | if he keeps regular habits, it a heart defect i compensated and has not | progreased for several years, the | physician is likely to promise him | many additional years of life. | | | READ AERALD CLASSIFIED ADS FOR BEST RESULTS |NEG.U.S. PAT. OFF, ©1987 BY NEA sTAVICE, . Don't begln at the botmn wl}gn you're learning to swim. John Held, Jr, MANY TIMES DO YOU 7 WELL, | HAVEN LOST UNTIL | ADMIT FAILURE