New Britain Herald Newspaper, June 4, 1927, Page 4

CHAPTER XI \ Lyra Makes Comparisons \ From che evening of that dinner Phillip Wyne Tracy IV only lived for the touch of Lyra Hilllard's beautiful hande—only saw the shift- ing light’that turned her brilliant eyes from gold to black—only heard the sounds of a tender, caressing voice speaking his name—everything €clse was forgotten. He counted the days by the minutes that he had passed by her side. After the invitations had been sent out, his friends, being well bred young people, called upon his mother and his mother's friend. | coupled with Luella Carr's hea That s, all of them called except | el Netee P ;lv:;('l'xme. made me feel x:nher yel- One evening six of them dropped “Oh, is that it exclaimed Mrs. in at the same time and he pPro- | Hilljard. “Would 1t botherd y‘ou. posed that they should take up a | phj), if I went with you? You don't Love’s Embers Adele Garrison's Absorbing Sequel to “Revelations of a Wife” Beginning a New Serial—————————/ Red Beard Suddenly Thrusts Him- | the viands that Katie was heaping self Upon Madge lon my plate. But by adroit manage- The hands of my alarm clock | Ment, praise of her cooking varned me that I must not dawdle | brevaricating plea of a headache, I over my dressing, and I made a |'Managed to eat a reasonable break- hasty tollet, reflecting that I would | [ast, even if an unusually heavy one iave ample opportunity to dress [OF Mme, and then, with Katie's wild- more carefully upon the train when | I¥. Waving hands and calls of “Saf. we neared the city. The early train | ride her invariable farewell when going to the city Sunday mornings | anY of us leave the farmhouse, Jim never has many passengers, some- | “hirled me out of the farmyard gate A girl soon learns that she play up to a man's moods.” The record and Luella ran down together. Philllp was glad of that, and ha also drew a sigh of relief when each of the other two boys had danced with Lyra and the party broke up. “I think I'll go out for a little spin,” he sald to his mother as the last guest passed the door. “Those cigareta that Jerry Kenyon smokes, must ons Sweethearts 10A MeGLONE GIBSON. matched facial decorations over | felt himself growing red behind the those polished agates she probably | ears as he thought of it. called her cyes, she had succeeded | “Phillip,” said his mother, in making her face more fascinat- | heard him passing the door, ing than that of any other woman |in a minute—I want you to help us. hat he could even imagine. Mrs. Hilliard is delighted that she As he drove past Rod's house next | has come in time for your party and | door to his own, his chum called to | she hopes that you will not neglect him: “Look here, Wynnié, perhaps |to ask her to dance because she is I was silly to get angry at you for |80 much older than your young calling me a fool. I know that al- | friends.” most everybody is one some time.” | “I only hepe that she will dance NWLYSIRATED AND COPYRIGHTED BY JOHNSON FEATURES INC. WHAT HAS HAPPENED: Phillip Wynne IV brings Natlce Jones to his house in the car his mother has just iven him ani | tells they are g0ing to Arrow- head Inn. He stays very late an jwhen he does come home tells imother thut he has proposed to Nat- lec and hopes to marry her befor: wing for colloge. Mr. Jones, who s the Tracys' objects to Phillip quite as Tracy BY DR. MORRIS FISHBEIN Editor Journal of the American Modical Association and. of Hy- &cia, tho Health Magasine To the public as a whole, the question ot mredical ethics seems a thing which I had counted on when T planned to change my outfit upon the train. With my toilet completed, T down my beat street gown and coat, * which Katie had freshly pressed the wvening before, and packing them |V with much tissue paper in the rath- | i or large suitcase 1 was taking be- | canse of the purchases T meant to | make for Junior, T breathed a sar- rorial prayer tl i their freshness a ourney, so that might not of i Veritzen's ritical taste. Leaving the suitcase in the hall vhere Jim eould easily get it, 1 de-| nded to the kitchen, where Katie J as testing the heat of her waffle |t iron. A nurss taking the temp | ture of & patient dangerously ill ~0uld not have heen more intent. b Your grape fruit juice all ready.” she said as T entered. “By time you ¢ dot down I ha vour ham and eggs and waffles read 'Oh, Katie,” 1 protested, “T eat so hea t ver . hut ath. Katie -t Graham the be- starting upon a well fortified with Though I like all my sister , am counting days, when a lath is © feminine figure, are n my little maid's solicituds over t can T might 3 shares with Mot [ 2t anyon journey must be there 1 nefer heard sooch foolish talk,” e sald as loftily as if T had been r granddaughter. bad enuff \ven vou starve home, but ven zo long journey vot you van! vhe faint ven 3 et gom home seeck to Junior? Maybe et 1 laughed, with the reflection which T did not dare to volee—that | 1 certainly should he ill if T ate all | odors, gled wi and, wish, T looked at m road op: and in another min a wonderful cluster of the T coveted. there 15 d along the road to the station. The shortest road from the farm o the station is a lovely tree-bor- tered one, winding between pictur- sque farmsteads continually giving woodland and the distant ocean. It s one of my favorite drives, 1 ially love it in the norn- n the dew is pearling every- e neared a corner where roads converged there carm nostrils that sweetest of all the scent of wild n- that of early honeysuckle, with a sudden overpowering wrist watch. Won't you have time to get me ust one spray of those roses and neysuckle? T asked Jim. He d car to the side of the abruptly, and applied his rakes skilfully “We'll mak o my time,” he said alighted, 4 cut me ng his knife as he out, they're pretty s he came back. the thorns as much as 1 nd wrapped the tter look of my bandker- round them,” 1 said. “How they are! What's that?’ me a rustling from hehind o s where Jim had just pick- -1 the flower © answer to my question came From the tangle of and xquisite T0! red-bearded and ed man whom I had last scen at The Larches, where his appearance o frightencd Eleanor Copyright, 19 swspaper Feature Service, Inc. The Unbelievable Footprints Thornton W. Burgess In all the world of claw and tooth There nothing stranger is thau truth, —Old Mother Nature O1d Man Coyote looked up at Sammy Jay and Sammy gaw right away that Old Man Coyote had dis- covered something. You could tell if by Ol1 Man Coyotc's eye v cried Sammy, “did you find your other self 2" 0ld Man Coyote shoo! ‘Then he looked this way and the other way scared look in his face. he whispered, pointing ot strange footprints in the mud the edgz of the pond of Paddy the Beaver. Sammy looked down, nd then he flew down a little ne: r for another look “Whose are they?” whispered. “3 don't his head. that with o thos: he on he almost know,” whispered Old Man Coyote, “There is a stranger in the Green F There isn't any doubt about if, there is a stranger in the Green For: I'm going hom I'm going hcme to the Old Pastu this very minute” And, without cven saying good by, Old Man Coy- ote started straight away throu the Green Forest, headed for thie 014 Pasture. Bammy Jay stared after Old Man Coyote until he was out of sight Then once more he stared at the anga footprints in the mud. T were real; there was no doubt about that. They were real footprints and they had not been made very long. sammy looked all around to sec {if there was any one in sight, Swim- ming over near his house was Paddy the Beaver. Sammy promptly flew over and altghted on the top of the house of Padidy the Beaver. Sammy was just about teo Paddy If the latter had see strange footprints. TBut hr isk him. He didn't have to. He knew without asking that Paddy had s them. There look of nneasi- ness in Paddy's eyes. It 1dy was very much Fou've seen those said Sammiy 1 have orest. ask n the didn't was el seen then Paddy. “Whose Sammy. Paddy T dc are the Armanded don’t 1 but shook his h L you he them . and T don't think I wa eplled Paddy. “It seems to me that there are hunters enough around | lere in Forest. Tt i trouble enough a it is to live. With another hunter in the Green Forest 1 ow what 18 going to he- comr of some of the little people {think £ome of us will have to move away, Thers is Lightfoot the Deer coming down 1o get a drink. 1 won der if he will see those footprir Sammy looked the po Sure enough, there Lightfoot the Deer coming down very dain ly and stopping every two or thr steps to look aud listen. Sammy could see that Lightfoot's new ant lers had just started and he knew that Lightfoot was more timid than at any other seasans of the vear Straight down to *he water's ¢ at the very place where ) strange footprints were, Lightfoot moved, Not until he bent his head / § | said San Green ross ose to drink did he leok down. For or two Le stood motionless, Then lightly he bounded to one side, staring wide-eyed at that muddy ere the foot-prints were do you think of Sammy Jay. “What do of them, Lightfoot htfoot 1 ed over Surmy and Paddy. Then he his beawtiful head and, stopping for the drink for had come to Paddy's hounded away into the G st Tt was clear that Lig tened, and Sammy and Paddy hoth sure that it was tho: sotprints that had frighte ened him. (Copyright, 1 you toward pond, he The nest siory: cat § APARTMENTS FURNISHE PParis—Nearly every high government csecutive is provids ith an apartment in his headquar- ters buildi TREE-TOD ST%EQIES OLD HOUSES N OLD, old, old house stood on Rosemary's street just a block away. It was big and gray. The carved wood-work around the eaves looked like lace on an old lady’s nightcap. And the “fan- cies” on the front porch were the ruffles on her apron. Rovemary often walked past this old house and watched the trees make shadow patterns on it. “It's a dear old house,” said Rosemary. 1 wish | could go there to visit some day. | know it has stovies to tell about the lit- tle girls and boys who used to live there, long ago.” and | was out of the car with the words, | blossoms honeysuckle | rged a most incongruous figure | red- |8 Lincoln. | Mrs. Tracy objects to Nat- 's mother unconsclously in- ler son in a woman who is to visit hop and will stay for party she is going to give for Without his mother's knowl- wdge Phil plans that Natlee shall come to the party with Rodney Max- . nd then goes to meet Mrs t the train flirts with him as though re a grown man. e takes her to luncheon and suddenly finds that he s in love with a woman {much older than himself. { In the meantime, Rodney takes | Phil's message to Natlee, which she jdoes mot belicve comes from his mothe H. Hilliard he story CHAPTER Phillip Clasps Ly The more Phillip IV thought ahout more he realized that—as he said to himself—he was in Duteh, It was certainly a quecer mis-up. | Here he was engaged to a girl—a tgirl he nestly asknowledged to [ himself as charming, clever and very itiful—a girl who notwithstand- his mother's objection would make him a fine wife {had just found out that he didr jwant a fine wife—he wanted lLyra , the wife of another man. < was so wonderful, so different from any other woman he 5% a’s Hand Wynne Tracy his” affairs, the conternp together—" of their doll ra's dar eyes — eyes that could ! themselves round or {at wing He wondercd if she had aver loved ther husband, for he told himself |that she did not love him now — ! was that the reason that her voi et so much sadness? Was it pos- {sible fhat any human voice could | otherwise by mere inflection ehangs (the meaning of the most common- place words into caressing love | pocms? | Kid, t's the matier with ‘]'fl‘ll ire yon crazy or just a damn {00l a traffic cop shouted | Phil specded up and spun around a convenient corner just in fime to {avoid an ent. Then slowing | down he turned his car toward home fat the next street intes c‘ion t Me would go hack and her lagain. He would prove to Jiwmself that one of her eyebrows was a tiny bit narrower fthan the other. Tis wondered if she had had it that way on purposc—or had her be expert made a mistake? v she had come by those u wl them?” | liook | without | which he | wen For- | 100t was | . by T. W, Burgess) ! ‘Yowler the Bob. | ( He could only sense that, Jight | his further unfolds— | ind now he | had ever| made | Phillip said: “Sure they are,” with | with me as many times as I shail a sincerity and emphasis that he | hoped Rod did not particularly no- tie I'va just have word from Natlee,” | drinking tea and smoking a cigaret. | continued, tells e that she has been over at it's all right, friend her Aunt Julia’s and Aunt Julia thinks old goat all. “That you did not, old dear, and such’ a rotter, I T am sorcy I wa | Mother | I'll just get into something ‘loose Nat's father is an and she's going to keep Nat at hier house and take all blame if she gets found out. You sce, Wynne, vour bally plan across so badly after | 1 didn't put | am going in now and tell at I have invited vou to the dinner | and it's all settled.” “Will you tell her who T am going | to brin, Phillip Tra; tongue stuck mouth as he would he tell e worry going to be your partner, | Rodney suddenly Maxwell looking somewhat often had breught Natlee Jones her monopolized | a message was left sayving, don’t envy you, old man, if you with your mother’ friend. Most of my mother's women | Afterward the party would go on | them | to the Biltmore Cascades to dance. have | have to play fricnds want to keep me by and ruffle my hair t a half-hour getting it to le | But even | heard his mother say it over better than their staying to | phone. “I wish Mrs. Hilliard could | and | hear it. She would not think then one | that it was a kid party. I did not | own tight to dance, they eylin und row worst these who ha in ther “Why., the 10 1 alw how you hav my dear ho Phil Nodney haduion s his mothe I'm He fell h it by a would r as thistledown, ars before, my for their kne as thous missing. of all, however. e accepted that they are too old and fat to pulled about by some poor perspir- hap who wants to ples could not help relieved—he so | telephone, and after head. cre least h at s groot and the: that T s hegin to treat you like L up man very soon he tile up his hair he 1 2 word that id except th s friends ruffled hair. He hastily inferrupted, “Well, ! surprised that she heard it. t be going. | must get back and see possibility Lyra Hilliard | that if there was one thing that Nat- | her on any one, I think ¢ nd he also | jeo Jones would do she would come | find that impossible if Natlec pam— % was holding th | woman in his arms, who made all t he other women shadows. “and she the lost his voice, his throat closed up and his to the roof asked himself what | his mother. managed to say, “Don’t you | about that — of course, she | knows you're going to bring Nat- his | are | the fact ! what Lyra thinks about it, Son. his | one with, | o grown!’ whethe soen one two months or | she add that iamong the girls that you have. You | pleasant information: ‘T am afraid, | knew her before you went to school. | 1 have to | But you see, don't ¥ a real grown- some | rug and dance to thg victrola. ask her.”” The boy’s eyes shyly met This was halled with great joy b [ those of the woman who was sitting | ... "0r " 1o Valng peapi bih’:‘z {in a wing chalr across the TOOM | ;4o ghy'in the presence of Mra. Hilliard. Naturally the couples first paired off together as they had come, and to his great delight his mother said: “Son, ask Lyra to dance—she still likes it.” 3 He stood before her and she lifted her eyes to his. He caught again that wistful childish expression he had surprised in her the first day. Oh, how could he comfort her? For a moment her eyes wandered about the floor where the twinkling and comfy’ myself. What time do | feet of three couples were already | you dine? | dancing, and then, as she slowly “Abaat seven. { came into his arms, she whispered: Phillip arose and opened the door’| “Don’t ever forget, dear Phillip, that for Mrs. Hilliard. As he was follow- | there is absolutely nothing in the ing her his mother said: “Perhaps, rld but youth. Love it, appreclate Son, you had better stay and tele- | it, Keep it as long as you can, for phone your friends. Y think we had better have the party the first o |regret.”” next week.” Phillip could not answer. “All right, Mum,” He could only sense that, light | coming back into the room. “I have | as thistle down, he was holding the %ulrcady invited Rod and T told the | woman in his arms who made all fellows at lunch today that they,other woman shadows, and was { were invited. I only have to tell | guiding her about the floor as he “I'll hold you to that promise, Phillip,” she commented. “And now, | Anne, T think Y'll go to my room— |1t is almost time to dress for din- { ner.”” ‘Oh. Lyra, we've quite gotten out | ! of the habit of dressing for dinner | unless we are going out afterward. | Usually I wear something loose and | | comty. I hal intended wearing the house dress T have on.” “All right. Anne, that suits me— st | he answered, | them the date. Perhaps you yourself.| had already begun to dream that ;i‘ might | had better invite the girls.” | some miracle some time he | Between them, every one was | Suide her through life. called within the next hour on the | His fantastic fancy did not last either a young | long, for the other young men had to | man did not happen to be at home | already perceived that Lyra Hilliard “Mrs. | was quite the best dancer in the room, and at the end of the record they rushed with one accord to en- gage her for the next dance. When he was perfectly sure that he must give her up to some one of them, he asked Luella Carr to be his { Anne Huntington Tracy wished them to be present at a dinner next Tues- | day night at the Plaza at 7 o'clock. | “Gee, Mum, that sounds xclaimed Phil the first great,” time he | the | ad done so, for she began im- he media | comment Jones lately. Is she Phil “I'm not sure. 1 don't know-—T have not seen her lately myself.” he | answered in a tone which he hoped would make her understand that he did not like to talk while dancing. “Well, I'm glad, Phil, that at last you have seen that it would be im- possible to foist Natlee upon the girls of our set. Of course, it didn't matter so much when we wore younger, but I though the other night at Arrowhead you were going | to try and make us receive her now “Yes, 1 see,” said Phil, and his | that we are grown up voice sounded so weak that he was | “I don't know, Luella, what you { are talking about. Natlee Jones and “Maybe she will not come,” he |1 have been chums ever since we said to himself, and then he knew |could talk, and as for me foisting n T would did {to that party if only to see whether | not want to be foisted, even if it he had sent her a lying message | were perfectly agrecable to you. fahout the invitation or not. *Nat| With both of you against it, T cer- might be some things, but she cer- | fainly should know better than to tainly 1s not a coward.’ | butt in."* However the voice of Mrs. Hil-| He stopped abruptly as he realized liard talking to his mother as he | that he was fighting Natlee's battle came into the dining room brushed | with surprising vigor for a person {every other thought from his mind. | Who had treated her in the way he For him it really did not matter | had lately, and who probably, in the atlee might let herself Into | near futurc, was going to humillate Ly coming, and as for him—he | her in a way that she had me could stand any kind of ragging | been humiliated before. from her, his mother, or any one| Luclla had noticed his tone and else, if Lyra were not displeased | she answered: “Well, you m " with him. | get so high hat about it, Phil.” Then | His eyes sought her face. She|in her usual manner she changed was standing heside the mantel talk- | the subject as quickly as she had ing with his mother. He knew that | begun it. 3 sko was especially pleased with him | “Tell me about this lady that and it scemed to him that he had | dancing her head off with Jack. T never seen anyone who was so love- | wonder if she does not know vet ly. She had changed her dress for | that time has vuled her off the something all soft and goldy. It |tracks?” Having won a ribbon or was such an claborate negligee that | two at the horse show. Luella that e was not sure it was not an evening dr Vaguely he wished that he had worn his dinner coat. He pulled out her chair which she realized was across the tahle from him and she spoke up impulsively: ! know you could be so formal.” “It really makes no difference 1t is a dinner dance given for you and your friends.” His mother hesitated a moment nd then said, “I am truly sorry, | Phillip, that T cannot invite Natlee— | Is probably the oldest friend u, that it would | put me in a position to be refused Ly Mr. Jones and that would be unthinkable.” his ! her conversation a sporty flavor. | 71 just hate those females” she continued viclously, “who. | they still remain thin and can !‘\Xt on their rouge artistically, think “Oh, please don't put me way over | they can fool us younger ones to there across the table a | whom the world belongs. They only were a stranger. Let me sit beside though 1| | fool themselveg. Phillip, Anne, and we three will be | “She scems to be fooling much more chummy.” | Kilgore all right. Look at Tt Secmed to him that hils mother was not quite pleased with this ar- | “he is dreaming that he is on a tee shimmery cloud dancing with & | rangement, but nevertheless sho or- dered the mald to place Mrs. Hil- radiant golden augel made for his Mard's service and chair next to that ! ypecial benefit.” \ml.\lr\la Care missed a step in the of Mr. Phillip. The three were hardly seated the way. Luella, do you think when in somc most unaccountable | it's just the thing to aceept my way he found her warm hand in his | mother's invitation, come into her under the cover of the lace em- | home, and viciously attack broidered dinner cloth. friends? Of course, T know that Reluctantly he lot her pull her | Jack has heen vour abject admirer long stender fingers away from his. | for so long that one can hardly 11e raised his eyes to find out if his | blame you for having an attack of mother had seen their contact. blind staggers when you see him Tt was all right — she was busy | absorbed by any other woman.” cating her fruit cocktall. “Well, T must say Phil I am heart- “It s lucky,” he sald to himself, | ily sick of that lady. I don't care that when a woman gets as old as | if she is your mother's friend. Jack \other she is very particular about | has not talked of any one else since Revptacdiy | that day you all lunched together. 1 Merely Margy, An Awfully Sweet Girl afterward—there can be nothing but | partner, but was quickly sorry that | 1y to ask questions and make | “I haven't seen you with Natlee| out of town, | needn’t | thought it smart to occaslonally give | because | : | raigned thems her care, do you, Anne? My head i feeling badly, too. It is too bad that the roadster won't hold the three of us.’ ““Oh, T wouldn't do such a crazy /thing under any circumstances as to go driving this time of night,” said Mrs. Tracy. “Of course, I wouldn’t stop you from doing it if you wish to go, but I am sure a | 00d sleep for both of you would be better than skylarking around the city in that roadster. Sometimes, Phillip, I am almost sorry I | hought it for you.” “No, you're not, Mumsy, you only | think £0 once in a while. You've | always tried to make me happy. you | know, and you have never given me anything which pleases me so much as that little blue roadster.” “Well, good night, Anne—we'll {not be gone long,” said Mrs. Hil- | liard. “I know I'll sleep better for | having a breath of fresh air.” She wrapped herself in a big fur coat, the high collar of which only left her gleaming eyes to be seen and they seemed to widen with the expectancy of a child as she stepped into the roadster. It seemed to Phil as he threw the gears into high and the car picked up with 2 purr that heaven could hold no bliss that would be greater than speeding along the smooth | pavement in the cold moonlight with | Lyra Hilliard beside him and all tho | | rest of the world asleep. | Neither of fhem spoke. Ha be- | | cause he was so happy, and she be- | cause she w: i | All the evening she had been in- | bly depressed by her con- | h those young people. Lyra Hilliard was one of those | | women, of which this world seems to be pretty full, who do not under- | stand themselves, and therefore are | the more dangerous. ! She thirsted for the youth which | she saw rapidly speeding away from | her until it had become an obses- | | sion. !" She tortured herself by keeping | voung people abdut her as much as possible, not to enjoy their fresh-, ness and their new viewpoint of life, | but because she was always trying | {o contrast them with herself or rather hoping to find out how little | | contrast there was between them | and herself. | e was coatinually trylng to| cheat herself, looking in every mir-| ror, glancing in every eye to see i | | they still held the Image of her! ] youth. | | All of her great effort was in try-| {ing to hold her own with the new | generation which was springing up | | beside her and she was becoming ! | very tired. | Every time she saw admiration in | | young eves she hugged it to herselt nd fed her vanity upon it. | time she felt that some young girl | | was trying to offset her cleverne her experience and her undeniable charm by the evanescent beauty of { youth and innocence, she told her- | self that it was not necessary to parade her knowledge of life—she | even tried to pretend to herself that | she had forgotten everything in the | | world that life had taught her. | Perhaps if Lyra Hilliard had | borne children her whole nature | would have been changed, for even her greatest enemies—and she had ! many—never doubted for a moment | | that she had a wenderful under-| standing and appreciation of the | | viewpoint of youth, even if she used | it selfishly to provide herself a lit- | tle longer with a capacity for youth- | tul folly. | She was particularly unhanpy to- | | night, for she knew unerringly that | not one of those young girls who | | had pald so little attention to her | | had been fooled in the slightest by | | her assumption of youth. They all, | however, had acknowledged her | | charm and had unconsclously ar- | against her. Sha | was sure that Luella Care had voiced | | something of this kind to Phillip | | just as she knew by an undefinable expression in the cyes of the others | | that they thought she was poaching. True—she was perfectly aware that she invited this, but that did | not keep the knowledge from rub- | bing salt into the raw wounds of | | her vanity. , | | She iooked at the hoy beside her | | and wondered of what he was think- | ing. She had not noticcd that he | had slowed up the car beside the | | road which, on the one side, was | | lined with trces and that now were | stripped of their leaves, while below, {on the other side, the moon was making paths of sliver on the broad | Hudson. i The car came to a dead stop. (To Be Continued) What will come of this moonlight | BUT, MOTH | munity. ¥ | flour. 4 tablespoons dry coca, { mixing howl vntil frot &00d bit of a mystery. The average man believes that medical ethics were devcloper primarlly for the physician, and with little regard for the patlent, If thia average man be- lieves that there should be a code of conduct—a set of principles which should govern the actions of the medical profession at large — he is often at a Joss to know how to tell an ethical and scientific doc- tor from an unethical and ignorant one. In many cases, public judgment is based on the kind of & car the doctor drives, the church he ate tends, his wife's social position, his whiskers, or the protuberance of his abdomen. Frequently a forty-eight-irch walst measure is taken as the equivalent of a fort eight caliber brain.’ The fact re maine, however, that 2 man may score high on all these points and still not be able to tell whether a sinking pain in the pit of the ab- domen s due to an inflamed gall bladder or a gastric ulcer. The recognized principlés of ethics for the medical profession emphasize first of all the duties of the physician to his patient. Theso duties include Service as an ideal, patience and delicacy as highly dee sirable, full assumption of re- sponsibility once a case has been undertaken. Solicitation of patients sidered as unprofessional and une cthical, but the customs of the community in which the physician lives should govern his actions. 1If it has been the custom to publish a business card in the local news- paper, there is no reason why he may not do so. Results, afier all, govern & physiclan’s standing in his coma. tunately, the men who are great in modicine are also like- ly to be great in heart and mind and spirit. is cone Menas for the Family cereal oven Breakfast — Grape fruit. cooked with dates, cream, toast, miik, coffec. ' Luncheon—Vegatable soup, crou- tons, bacon and tomato toasted sandwiches, sliced bannanas, ginger cookies, milk, tea. Dirner—Veal birds, sweet potato croquettes, asparagus cream salul, cocoa angel food, vanilla mousse, groham bread, milk, coffee. Cocoa Angel Food Whites 9 eggs, 3-4 teaspoon cream of tartar, 1 cup granulated sugar, 1-4 teaspoon salt, 1-2 cup pastry 1-4 teaspoon vanilla. Beat whites of eggs in a large Add cream of tartar and beat until stiff. | sugar and salt tive or six times o |sift gradually into the beaten v&g whites, ting constantly. Add va- nilla. Mix and sift flour and cocoa, sifting six times. Sift into first mixe ture and fold into the eggs with t* | whisk. Pour into an angel cake pan and bake 50 minutes in a slow oven, The temperature should be from 320 to 350 Jdegrees Fahrenheit. AIRPLANE DELIVERY Pine Bluff, Ark.—The Pine Bluft Commercial Appeal refused to Iot the Mississippl flood halt its delive erles. It used an airplane to reach flooded towns, FLAPPER FANNY SAYS: 1 LG V.8 AT OPY., ©1527 BY NEA STAVICE, INC. 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