New Britain Herald Newspaper, June 13, 1927, Page 4

b S s Love’s Einbers Absorbing Sequel to “Revelations of a-Wife” ‘ Beginning a New Ser Adele Garrison’ Madge Finds Herself In a Tight Place with Phillp Veritzen The rapid click of typewriters eame to our ears as we reached the top of the stairs leading to the Ver Mtzen offices. 1 drew a breath of re- lief and chided mysclf for my ab surd panic of a minute before. It I were to occupy the high place in the professional world which Mr. Ver- zen’s work made possible for me, | reminded myself that 1 must not balk at keeping a business appoint- ment with my employer, even if the day were Sunday and the offices - eerted. But the welcome sound of typewriters and that fact that Veritzen betrayed no astonish- when he heard them proved beyond any doubt that he had not meant our interview to be staged in & building with no other occupants. “They're on job, 1 4 in a low voice as we came room where four office assis- tants, three girls and a man, were busily at work. They rose at his en- trance and returned his cordial greetings with evident pleasure at his return, even though it meant the apolling of their holiday “Jim, will you please bring in the report I wired for.” he said to Mr. Henderson, the solitary man of the group, who, T had been told, had been associated with the great man since boyhood. “Immediatel and indeed we hardly had re the great producer’s private offices before Henderson came in. laid upon the massive mahogany desk a bundle of typed papers and noiselessly disappeared again. “WIll you please find something to read for a few minutes while 1 ance over this,” he asked me, and. with a smiling nod of assent, 1 opened the bookcase. took from it the’ first volume on which my eyes rested, and sat down in a chair drawn close to a window in the far- thest corner of the room, with my back to my employer. I knew well the idiosyncrasy which the request the N " Henderson replied. ached suite of indicated. Mr. Veritzen never is able |« to concentrate upon any piece of work if he is conscious of any eyes | ‘to which |overlooking the b npon him, and invariably asks any- body in the room with him to read | or work while he gives his attention o the particular task before him. Tor at least fifteen minutes 1 sat perfectly silent, my eyes traveling over and over the page of the book T had opencd. 1 did not turn a page, for I knew, as did eve! else ociated wit Philip Veritzen's nervous to n e while absorbed in any Then T heard the sound of pushed back. and looked up cmploye the room smiling hank you so much for vo " he said, “ar bout toduy me now my plan f T am sur: that it is idiotic this you agrec to work h with e in this hot office, ing city. when it 1 some delightful Otto is er dexterity and f with the least traffic | uppose we motor up to ful tountry inn in hills Huds which 1 with cony where Iy undisturbed, be served with i v perfectly think it working is so setting of mar- getting them wonde know about, cooked d Don't would b here Ih you ferable to 1 to think quickly. that this was the c ar of which had nscious mind cver since ceived my employer's summons to a conference, I feared that he had meant to in a personal note into our interview but had not known just how he would go about it. T knew that what I meant to say to him might mea ; the sudden ending of my work, but both my instinct and my judgment | ave me no choice. | "I should love to go,” T said, “but | please do not be angry if T say that [ cannot unless Mrs. Underwood can | knew | | 1927, Newspaper ture Service, Tne. The Spotted Stranger Is Caught By Thornton W. Burgess one thing you may be quite sure: One ne'er can tell when he's secure. —Sammy Jay That was a day never to be for- gotien in the Green Forest—the day that the stranger was hunted to a | cave in a ledge deep in the Green | Porest. Never had any of the little Green Forest people seen so many hunters together at one time; never had they been so filled with fear; and the worst of it was they had no means of knowing what it was all about. They couldn’t understand fit. It was Sammy who first saw the stranger. It was Sammy whe saw the stranger go into the little cave in the ledges; and it was Sammy who did his best to tell the hunters all about it by screaming at the top of his lungs. Sammy watched Farmer Brown's Boy, Farmer Brown and all the bunters gather around the entrance to the little cave where the strang- er was hidden, and how he did wish he could understand what they were | saying. But he couldn’t. All he could do was to remain where he could watch all that took place. After a while some of the hunters disap- peared, the rest remaining. Those that left were gone a long time. By and by Sammy heard the hunters coming back. He heard the sound of | wheels and horses. He flew over to | where he could look down an old | wood road. A pair of horses wcre coming up the old wood road draw- ing a cage on wheels. Tt was a cage that could be taken off; it was a cage made of big iron bars. It was brought as near as possible on the old wood road and then it was Pauled across and finally put in po- sition in front of that little cave. The | end toward the cave was open. Then | thé men with logs and branches fixed things so that it was Impossible | for any one in that cave to come ! out without going into cage. A slid- | ing cage, wo fixed that it could be | dropped inatantly. | Sammy was g0 excited that he just had to scream now and then. This brought his cousin, Blacky the Crow, and from a safe distance Blacky watched. Blacky's eves are so sharp that he can see clearly ali that is going on at a distance. So from the top of a tree, where he felt quite safe, Blacky watched. Temmy Tit the Chickadee also watched, Tommy isn't afraid of anybody From high up overhead OI' Mistah Buzzard, circling around and around, looked down with those marvelous eves of his and didn't there at the Green Forest. Final the hunters Boy left 1 two of rmer Brown's n Forest. These two Brown's Boy took very great care to hide > they could not be seen from the little cave in the ledges, and where the wind would not take fle scent of them there. All became as quict as it previously been noisy. Jolly, round, bright Mr. Sun started down for the Purple Hills. Lower and lower he sank toward those Purple Hills, t hind which he would go to b Black Shadows came through the Green Forest. Jay and Blacky the Crow my Tit and Old Mr. Buzzard could no longer keep watch. You know they cannot see in the darknese as g Hoowy the Owl. s%n was Hooty " { eping d Tom- Sammy | {the morning of the next day shop- |her patriotism that | not need, weeded out of his moth- and clasped in jers’ purchases a few necessary be- |heard his voice All he could do was to remain wh he could watch all that took place | who took their place, and he was| quite as curious as they had been. The twinkling stars came out. he light rom Mistress Moon fell full on | the ledges. Still, for a long, long| time nothing happened. Then sud- | denly one of those hidden hunters pulled a string. A heavy door fell. | Hooty, leaning forward with great | round eyes, staring with all his| might, saw the stranger leaping | against iron bars and heard him | snarl. Then, to Hooty's great sur-| prise, Farmer Brown's Boy and two men appeared. Hooty flew away. “We've got him:" eried Farmer | Brown's Boy. | “Yes, son, we've got him,” said| one of the men. “Well leave him | here 'til morning. Now you show us | the way out of the Green I'orest.” | And this Farmer Brown's Boy did. | (Copyright, 1927, by T. W. Burgess) | | ranger Is Taken Aw Menas for the Family Breakfast cooked with waffles, syrup milk, Luncheon — Hot salad of radis ses cookies, Orange juies, cercal cream, rich Dinner — Br cutlate, ans. rice pudding bran rolls, with milk, -coff Hot Egg Sandwich Four nds bread cut thick, 2 hard cooked eggs, tomato, 2 tablespoons butter. spoons flour, 2 cups milk, finely chopped chi salt and pa- prika Dip each piecs ter and placs ror ba ro h 1 large 2 table- e of bread in melted | on a fire proof dish. Peel tomato Dip eact put a slice of tamato on of bread. prinkle with sugar, salt and pepper | slide into a very hot oven to | lightly toast the bread and brown the tomato. Cut eggs in halves cross- 1 e cut aide down on | es. Melt butter, stir in flour, | 1 milk. Cook, stirring thick. Add checse cook until ason with and pa- 1 over eggs and toast. for a few minutes to i | slical] in v vise | toma and slowly ntly arr A unt nd cheese i3 make | SHOULDER BLOOM | A willowy vellow chiffon chrysan- themum on a chanel evening gown nestles at the rear of the left corner | ping. | Phil would have been weighted down | her friends that NEW HLLYSTFATED AND COPYRIGHTED BY JOKNSON FEATURES INC. WHAT HAS HAP 5 The entra 4 into the World war finds Phillip Wynne Tracy IV suffering from the collapse of his first passionate love at{air. Before this, and Natlee Jones. who is the daughter of the Tracys' Iman. had had a childish engage- ment which, however, had been ob- to by both Mrs. Tracy and ar. Jones. Phillip's mother plans to in her son in otl and decides to him a pa he tells him of > impending visit of her friend, ra Hill and unconsciously = interest in the wom midnight ride, T her love to Phillip. The whols sinks into nothingness, how cause war s decl Rod Phillip are the first to enlist. Lyra writes a cruel letter to Phil- lip and leaves without secing eith him or his mother. Natlee accuses Mrs. Tracy of sending her boy to wa to save him from her, Tracy replies, “I am sending him to war, my dear, ve him for you.” On the eve of leaving for the bar- racks, Rod understands from some- thing Phil says that the affair be- tween limself and Lyra is broken off. Hers he rest and the story rther unfy CHAPTL XTIV XTIV Th carn detention nd that was all. As Phil 1. no one know just where the what th as though Rod decid: v and cre to leave ump the next Phillip. for he med to ¥ going or were to do, but it looked v were on their way 1o go to the office of his guardian and put his affairs in shape, consequently Phil, forgotten all about making his will left him at the door of the recruit- ing station and hurried out, hoping he would be able to sce his mother before she hcard he to leave the next day. He thought it would be kinder to tell him himsclf, but he was too late. He found his mother almost in a state of collapse. She had heard from the grocer's boy that the first train load of men were to be sent to barracks immediately, and for the first time she had really realized that Phil going to war. As in a terrible dream, at his re- quest, she went back with him the station where she signed the formal consent to his enlisting, with hardly a sign that she knew wha she was doing, except to mechanical- ly write her name on the line which was indicated. Hoping to interest thing beside her grle| mother on the way house what he should tak to France. were her in some- back to the with him At that time all the boys who !her hands as though to ward were leaving were sure they would be sent overseas immediately. To Mrs. Tracy this was a godsend. She spent all the late afternoon and If she could have her way, with sllk underwear, pajamas and every possible luxury a man might think he needed who was traveling leisurely about the world for pleasure. Phil, however, with a Spartan in- tultion of what a doughboy would longings, packed them in a small suitcase and soon had ready to leave at the appointed time He made the excuse of military business to keep away from his home as much as possible. Much to his mother's surprise, he having | to Phil asked his | wi. everything BRITAIN DAILY HERA 1 1 not take out his roadster, and luring the afternoon she learned h 1 made a deal with the compa rom which it was purchased where- by it was fo be left at the rooms for resale. None of the recruits out from which station it ¥ could laving, but Rod had heard a rumor | been tightly clasped about and thought he knew on what road they were going. and he telephoned I.D. MONDAY, JUNE 13, 1927. My Sors Sueefea IDA_McGLONE GIBSON | Natlee that if he could not get over | o scq her she must meet him at the train. She had been trying frantically to t hold of Mbd cver since she had from Mrs. Tracy’s the morning before, for although she had made Rod promise he would telephone her just as soon he knew what was going to happen she was too nervous and upset to for him to call her. Now she exacted from him an- other promise. “T am coming down you off tonigh p watch for me. Don't in the crowd.” cas rather med of him- he felt a Mttle comforted when he realized she had not asked inything ubout Phil. Tt was just as vell for his peace of mind that he did not know the moment he Lung p the iver that Natlee had 1 p Mrs. Tracy and found that t home and that he was not insisted his mother should not as o see ‘k |lose you Rod w self, but et mo Phil had g0 men were leav- All through the night the hours had seemed to wl and during the morning Phillip tried |valiantly, if not suceessfully, to act as if nothing out of the ordinary |was happening. | When he seated his mother in her st ceustomed place at the dinner hich he knew would be his la home for some tima he had ne almed his nerves to where he was ble to speak, If not think, quite orrectly. “I don't feel mother said, !with you.” [ erewii Mother dear, to b come back,” he said m the table whe scy nor him: ng and went right, Phillip.” his going to the train be r, better for there when as he neither much you, i3 arose M any- e “You know it's much pleasanter to come people than to bid them burst into tears. your head, Mom, to me now. You k alive he would s v is following tI acy looked Told nup ¢ zo0d-by it Dad we [other Ti | wilaty., herself, Phillip | She r was sending y from her to dic cadily and threw out Isomething that was swiftly shutting |down upon her and stifling her. What did her country mean to {her? she inquired hysterically of wad been telling the mouth of should be very {proud of Phillip Wynne Tracy 1V. | To these friends she had been !able to keep up her courage, but now instead of holding up her head she bent {t still ful |as she was shaken with obs. | Suddenly she felt herself pulled up Phillip’s arms. She ving rather shak- {1ly, “Come, Mother, it's #ine to go. f Tighter she clung around his ne 1 can't do it—I can't do it she whispercd. “Youw'll never come back {to me, Phillip.” “Don’t cry so. Mother. !may never get over. The {her all day through Why T She flung her arms about his o she said; | her over the table | war will { the (R probably be finlshed before we get there. Be brave. Don’t break my heart, for T must leave you. You mow 1 love you. e Tenderly he tried to Iift her mouth to his. but found to his terror that find |he was pressing to him a sjumping they were |body and that the arms which had his neck had fallen to its side. His mother had fainted. Slowly he carried her to the set- tee, just through the door of the din- ing room. and placing a ¢ her head, he called he fs dead, Mr. Phillip. She's dead. 1 knew your going would kill her,” shrilled the maid whos came quickly to help him. she has only fainted, Non- nie. I'll take care of her while you a doctor and a nurse.” Phillip dropped on his knees be- tore the ettee and chafed his moth- s limp hand. In a few moments her sad eves looked into his. 3 see, I'm not brave, Son." trying to smile. “I cannot ive you up willingly—I'm not as as I thought 1 was-—perhaps is yet time. We could go down | and T could tell them T did not know what I was doing—" Mrs. Trac rted up wildly. ¥ Phillip pushed his mother back upon the settee. “It is too late now the reeruiting station this very mo- ment. T'll wire you the moment T ot to the camp.” The doctor was announced once more kissing his mother’ streaming eves, Phillip Wynne T 1V left the room with the bit ter salt of her tears upon his lips. When he arrived at the recruiting station he met Rodney, who had been frantically trying to get Nat- He had justa little ore found out they were from another depot from where she had promised him and say good-by. “I can't go without secing her, T t go without seeing her” he heard Rod mutter. Suddenly Phil realized that he, too. must see Natlee before he left. Both boys, having answered to their names, almost headed the stragzling column that reached the railroad station n a pouring raln. Neither of them felt it, however — v v mucl too excited. The sudden downpour overflowed a clogged sewer and filled the streets with a muddy m through which they marched stoically. one said anything to the They were too much en- wrossed In their own thoughts as ey stopped abruptly at the com- mand of “Halt!" outside the waiting train. Notwithstanding the rain which was still coming down in torrents, the place was crowded with weeping Everything was in great onfusion. The officers in charge were cuitly commanding the con- tingent to get on hoard, but every one was lingering for a last word. Neither Rod nor Phil paid any at- tention to either officers or men. ch kept on the very edge of the crowd hoping and pray they left they would at least get a sight of Natlee. Rodney Maxwell's heart was king. At that moment nothing red to him of any worth (be cause he had determindd in his own mind that he was never coming b except one last look into the lapis lazuli eyes of Natlee Jones — to cateh at le fection there. Although Phil said to himself bit- terly that she was probably like all rest and Tee. leaving the one to meet athe A Merely M;rgy, An Awfully Sweet Girl while be- | ing before | a modicum of af- : hysterical | women who were holding their men ,nuch a persou living, when she saw back as though they would never let them go out of their clinging arms and who would probably for- get them in a month or two—yet he did have to acknowledge that he did want to see Natlee once more, if only to tell her to comfort his moth- er while he was away. The two young men were wet to the skin. They kept brushing the rain from their faces as they kept straining their_eyes into the dark- ness, which only seemed to be made blacker by the twinkling lights that jsent a yellow flare for a few fect beyond their posted lamps. “All aboard,” shouted a conductor. | A sobbing wall rose above the wind and rain. “Get in there, get in | there,” commanded the officers, try- {ing to push and pull the men from their tearful relatives and friends. The crowd thinned and stepped back {a little, but Phil and Rod still stood waiting. | A taxi dashed up, spattering mud | everywhere over the jostling crowd. CHAPTER XXV o | Leave Me Alone, Damn Youl” | There was a crunching of brakes !and before the taxi had hardly come [to a halt. a girl, like a streak of {gold from hair to yellow shod feet, |appeared on the running board in |the sudden glow of the street lamp junder which the car had stopped. | “It's Natlee,” shouted Rod as he | darted forward. | “Oh, Wynne, Wynne, it's Natlee,” {called the girl. She seemed literally posed in ¢he darkness, her eyes agerly peeling into the crowd. The treet lamp had caught her yellow |frock and the darkness had cut off Mother darling. 1 should be at|its arc light as she stepped forward | land fell her full length into the | gutter. | Both boys rushed toward the taxi. It was Rod who reached her first and gropingly helped her to her feet, | but Natlee did not see him. Her eyes | were searching for Phil. In a mo- | ment they found him, and covered from head to feet with mud—her |tace spattered until it was hardly | recognizable—she flung ler arms Bout his neck. “I went to the wrong station. Rod {told me the wrong station,” she {cried as she covered Phil's mouth | with muddy kisses. “Wynne, tell ithem to wait a minute — just a | minute.” “All aboard.” “Get aboard there.” | The sergeant tried to pull Phil to- | ward the train, for the wheels were | beginning to move. | Natlee was propelled forward. for {her arms still elung to Phil's neck. At last, just before he reached the step, they weakened. Some one held {her back. while Phil turned and ing train. “Good-bys, Natlee,” he called turning his head for one last look. He was forcibly pushed on the platiorm by some one behind him. “Get up there and give me a chance to get on hoard.” Again Phil- {lip turned his head. Surely that i hate-contorted face thrust up into | his was not that of his friend. Rod, Rod,” he stammered, didn’t know you were behind me.’ He thrust out his hand. It was struck down “Leave me alone, damn you! a volce as strange as was the face {into which he was looking. “You |did not give me a chance to |good-bye to Natlee, and T'll n |see her again.” Phillip Tracy threw his arm about the heaving form of his friend. For |a moment they clung together—just two boys alons in the great chaos that seemed to engulf the whole world, “I didn’t mean to, Rod,” said Phil as he pushed his friend ahead of im into the car overflowing with nervous youth who did not know vet what it was all about. know it. T know you were not to blame, but she did not see me at all Wynne—she did not know I was there, and there was no one but her that I had iIn all the world.” For the first and last time in all {his life, Phillip Tracy saw Rodney | Maxwell weep. | His own eyes were so full of tears ithat he stumbled as he {triend pushed into a seat. The car was filled with about fifty !men, some of them singing, some |swearing and some sitting like wax |figures, unseeing, unheeding any- thing that was going on about them. To vociferous inquiries they were |told they would get to the barracks {1n about two hours and a half. | _Phil looked at Rodney and found |that he was one of the unseeing, | unheeding ones, and he felt it would | be much better it he did not wake {him out of his retrospection. As | casually as he could, he got up and {went to the back scat of the car. Rod did not even seem to notice his departure. Here he sat down among | a laughing crowd and listened for a moment to their conversation, most of which was about what they |were going to do to the Helnies when they got overseas. Finally he found that his atten. | tion was going back to that silent | figure sitting so straight in its seat | in the front of the car. He walked | over to Rod. At the touch of Phil's hand on his shoulder, Rodney Maxwell start- ed and half rose. Phil found to his relief that he had forgotten all his | rage and was now unhappy because ver | sprang on the last step of the mov- | and his | | | | | 1 \ i | | | i | { | with Lyra into unspeakable glory. | his veins. i this great sacrifice, instead the man she loved besjde him. Phillip sat down beside his chum and laying his arm across his shoul- der he raid: “Rod, old chap, ] guess everything else is behind us. From now on it's you and me. It looks as though we were entering another world.” Rodney Maxwell said nothing, but as he looked at him, Philllp found that the face of the ugly stranger had gone, and in its place was again the affectionate smile that he had always scen upon the counterance of nl2 Rod—Rod he scemed to have known always—the Rod upon whose utter loyalty and love he had always relled and never been betrayed. 'We'll be at the barracks in about three hours,” he observed, as though nothing had been betwcen them to break for the first time thelr complete understanding—they were pals again. The car was full of bubbling ex- citement. Every youthful recruit in it had a plan by which he knew America could end the war immedi- ately. A war to end war — and other phrases and slogans were bandied about from lip to lip of the young crusaders. For whatever might be the mingled reasons of thoss who joined or were drafted into the army later, the first contingents or those who signed up in the first flush of patriotic excitement were thrilled with the fact that they represented what America believed to be right, as well as America’s might. All at once there seemed to be a tull in the highpitched conversation. With a sigh Phil realized that he was inexplicably tired. He looked again at Rod and found his eyes were closed. He stretched himself out a littlg and tried to think over the events of the exciting day. He did not know he had closed his eyes, until e was awakened by the men filing out of the car. They were hustled into tents and unrolling blankets, were gruffly told to stretch themselves out on cots. Tn the hustle of getting settled, Phil and Rod were separated, and Phil thinking it would be just as well for them fo be parted for a few hours, or until they had both adjusted themselves, turned over | and tried to sleep. | How long he had lain there he | did not know, but it seemed ages. | He told himself that he was the | only man that was awake in the whole sleeping tent, as he turned | and twisted and could find no pezce | for his restlessness. As his fac: came Into contact | with the coarse blanket, he thought | by contrast of Lyra Hilllard's soft | cheek as he had felt It against his. | Finally he cculd stand it no longer | and carefully stepped out of the | tent and walked to the very end of | {he company street. | The rain in which they had start- | | led had ceased—a cloud here and | there seemed scurrying to find its darker fellows that had already | fled before the unearthly silver moon. It was such a moonlight as | this that turned that midnight ride | Molten fires began to run through | | He tried to think sanely. He was | ashamed that on the eve of making ! of the | heroic and splendid thought which should fill his brain, he could think | of nothing but the scarlet bow of Lyra's mouth and of the opaque whiteness of her throat, just where | it rounded into the beauty of “er bosom. The moon for a moment was| darkened by a cloud. e turned with a sudden chill that shook him from head to foot. Some one in! the tent he was passing had evi- dently rolled from his cot. for amid | laughter and derision he heard an angry voice shouting, “Oh. you go to hell, will you?” With changing mood. he cursed | not only himselt for a fool, but his' father before him for passing on to him the temperament he had just | found was his, and stumbling over | grumbling, found at last his cot and sank into dreamless sleep. Here Rod followed him the next morning after they had both turned | away from a breakfast of bad cof- | fee, hunks of bread and strong but- | ter which neither of them could eat. | “I think I'll send a little note to Mother, and I'm going to send your love to her, old man.” | Rod, although he knew that the first letter Phil would write would be to Natlee, replied: “Of course you must send her my love, for she's the only mother I've known.” Then he wandered out of the tent and Phil wrote at the top of the sheet on a pad on his knees: ‘Dear Natlee: “We have slept our first night in tents. We have tried to ecat an un- eatabls breakfast, Rod and 1. He¢ has wandered out into the parade grounds and I am going to write few words to you and mother. “Do you know, Natlee dear, that vou looked like a heaven sent vision to me as that rickety old taxi drove up and you stepped out at the sta- tion? It was as though a lost and discouraged person had seen a rain- bow of promise and had almost given up hope (To Be Continued) In the next installment the young soldicrs get their uniforms. Wil the girl he loved so devotedly had | both be able to pass the physical ex- not even remembered there | Wwas | amination or must one stay behind | the individual half-awake eleepers, he | “ BY DR. MORRIS FISHBEIN A Britisn periodical concerned with educatior in the public schools emphasized recently the fact that excessive home work dulls the grow- ing mind and urges that the hours' assigned to home work should be materially diminished. In support of this view, many British periodicals pointed out that children in some secondary $chools work two, three, or even four hours on their lessons. presumably because competition between schools and between pupils is great. The British Medical Journal em- phasizes the fact that the amount of knowledge which children must ac- quire i3 greater now than ever be- fore, and that there is such 2 vol- ume of materfal to be learned that it simply cannot be covered in school hours. In families where there are many children and the home space is small, parents welcome home work because it helps {0 keep the children out of mischief and under control. This is especially the cese in winter when children cannot get out-of-doors to play. On the other hand, the mother of a large family, who {s depend- ent op her children for assigance in her daily tasks in the home, is likely to resent too much home work becauss the child s thus prevented from giving the neces- sary,assistance, After all, the real criterion this must be the possibilities child and its ca- pacity for work. Incidentally, the physical condition of one child may permit much more than that of another. The variations fn physical capability in children from 12 to 16 years of age are tre- mendous. Tn the present method of educa- on, the child is supposed to vork out many problems for him self. Tf these matters are made interesting., the tax on the 'ntel. lect is no greater than attendaree at a moving plcture show or prac tiee at the piane. If teaching has been done well in of |in school during the day a review of the work at home is easy, even if tiresome. 1If new problems are concerned in the review at home, the ehild may find them trying. Avove all, a certain amount of mdividualization in eduration, as in the care of the body in health and disease. would seem to be the most important of all of the fac- tors concerned. Matching Strands A three-strand necklace and & trand bracelet of oblong gold beads, fastened with a single large stone of jade, are very smart to wear with the tailleur, FLAPPER FANNY SAYS: U IREGV. 8. PAT. OFF. L©1927 BY NEA STAVICE, INC. Going to & night clab tests : man's metal. 7 BACK R of a batteau neck and hangs its | petals fwn Milady's back, %< THREE OF G. HOW AROUT ALL PUTTING | 1S DO A LOT OF L_ [ TEAD OF THREE DUM HORSES . GET ONE ‘LCOOD ONE, THEN Wi HAVE €191 4, King Patirm Syodenm Gt B rebe et AHORSE THREE WA\vsj ( HoWRE YoU GONG To MAE A 77 HORSE GO THAEE WAYS 7 WALK , TR By John Held, Jr ARAB, WHAT A SILLY CRACK. THREE WAYS 2 OT AND CANTER! rl