New Britain Herald Newspaper, June 23, 1927, Page 14

" Love’s Embers Adele Garrison’s Absorbing Sequel to “Revelations of a Wife” Beginning a New Ser I stared at Philip Veritzen with the feeling that I was listening to a fantastio fairy tale. In the old days that nowj seemed so far re- mote I had known Harry Under- Wwood's: mentality was brilliant, if er- ratie, but I never should have sus- pected him of being capable of the schoiarly fragments of drama which had appealed to the great dramatic producer so strongly. I knew what sure and fastidious taste my em- ployer possessed, and realized that when he said the bits which Mr. Underwood had given him in years gone by went far beyond any- thing he ever had seen in sheer beauty and originality of treatment he was pronouncing the last word in artistic judgment. But the thing which intrigued me most was Mr. Veritzen's belief that Harry Underwood was the writer of a remarkable new play which had been sent to him in a mysterious manner arnd purporting to be the work of a young and unknown author. That my employer might be mistaken in his deduction never entered my mind. I knew his un- erring judgment too well. Harry Underwood was alive and his really remarkable brain was functioning -again. This promised that he was no longer indulging in the dissipa- tion which had wrecked his career and brought him so near the death meted out to a traitor. T_found myself also sharing Mr. Verdtzen's belief that his old friend was no longe- in a' foreign country, but mear at hand. This: meant that I again might meet the man who -during my acquaintance with him alternately had fascinated me by his brilliancy and laughing audacity and | repelled me by a certain hard un- | scrupulousness which lay beneath his nonchalant exterior. Suddenly T became awate that Mr. Veritzen was waiting for a comment | upon his asthunding news, and T | aroused myself from the reverie | into which his words had thrown | me. “I never have heard more excit- | ing news,” I told him truthfully. “It seems almost unbelievable. Frankly, T never expected to see Mr. Under- wood agaln, while now——" “While now he may walk back into our lives at any minute,” Mr. Veritzen rejoined. Then he gave me | By Thornton W. Burgess ‘Who falls in love will virtues find To which all other folk are blind. —Sammy Jay Peter Rabbit, looking out from the edge of the dear Old Briar- pateh, saw Sammy Jay headed that | ‘Way. “Sammy is in a great hurry this morning.” said Peter to little Mrs. Peter. “If I know the signs Sammy has news and is in a hurry 1o tell it.” A few moments later Sammy Jay arrived. He perched in a young wild-cherry tree just above Peter. | “Have you heard the news, Peter?” cried Sammy excitedly. | “It depends on what news you | replied Peter. “It i3 about Old Man Coyote,” eaid Sammy. / 11, what about Peter inquired. e's house hunting,” Sammy. “Huh!” safd Peter. “Why is he house hunting? Isn't that house up there in the Old Pasture good enough for him?” “Yes,” replied Sammy, “it is good enough for him, but T hear it isn't £00d enough for Mrs. Coyote.” “What's that?” crled Peter, sit- ting up 0 suddenly that he bumped his head against a branch. Sammy Jay's eves twinkled, and he chuckled .“T said,” replied he, | “that It is reported that that house up there doesn't suit Mrs. Coyote.” | Peter grinned. “So that's the | news, is it? I suspected it was com- | ing. I knew the signs. By the way, Sammy, where did liss Coyote | ‘come from anyways? “Mrs. Coyote,” corrected Sammy. “Mrs. Coyote, then,” said Peter. | *“Is she the same one T saw In the tent when the circus was here? Of course T'vo heard rumors that she got away at the same time that Spotcoat the Leopard did. Was it true?” Sammy nodded. “Yes said he, | “those hunters that caught Spotcoat 41dn’t even look for Miss Coyote. T @on't know ‘why. Now she is Mrs. €oyote and T suppose she will re- majn here. Of course you'll be glad of that.” Peter made a face at Sammy. “Of course T won't he glad of it,” said he. “Her coming doesn’t make any differcnce to you, but it does make a very great difference to Mrs, Peter and myself. Now there will he | one more enemy to look out for. 1 hope she isn’t as smart as Old Man Coyote, hut T am afraid that she £ma Ned “Why do you say that?" fammy “Because she was smart enough | to keep out of (1ld Man Coyote's | way o long,” replied Peter, “Any | one smart enough to do that is too smart to have for an enemy. So if | Old Man Coyote and Mrs. Coyote | are to make their home around here 1 am sorry for Mrs. Peter and my- | eelf, and for Danny Meadow Mouse, | and Johnny Chuck and Polly Chuck, | ‘and a lot of other little people. T hope you have spread the news all over the Green Meadows and through the Green Forest.” , S8ammy chuckled. “I've made a start anyway,” said he. “That re- | minds me, F must go over to see| Johnny and Polly Chuck.” With | this, he spread his wings and away 014 Man Coy- replied asked | | guerit a queer littls appralsing and ques- tioning look, and I realized that there was some direct purpose be- hind his apparently casual revela- tion to me of Harry Underwood's latest exploit. “Perhaps you can guess why I have told you this,” he sald. Comprehersion came suddenly to me. I nodded “You would like me to tell Mrs. Underwood of your discovery,” I said. I made no attempt to hide the dismay in my voice. Discussing Lil- lian's affairs with her, unasked, is something which simply isn’'t done. Yet I knew that it was a task which only I could perform. No one else, #ave her young daughter, is so near to her. Two years ago I should have subordinated myself to Robert Savarin, the famous artist, who, as her first teacher, won her heart, un- knowingly, and then after many vears came back into her life again. But Robert Savarin’s unbending, archaic ideas of woman's place is the world and jealousy of Lillian's work had shattered their revived romance, and Robert Savarin was in Europe, trying to forget in the ardor of his work the vision of be- lated happiness which he had cher- ished when fate appeared to have sent Harry Underwood forever away from Lillian’s life. Lillian never had told me in so many words that she had decided definitely to give up Robert Savarin, but I knew it, nevartheless: knew also that in her love for her young daughter, Marion Morton, she was finding rapturous happiness, marred only by the separation from the young girl which Marion's absence =t school entailed. As it Mr. Veritzen had clairvoyant powers, he smiled down at my dis- mayed face, “Yes, I do wish you to tell Mrs. Unllerwood about this mysterious message—I almost said from the he replied. “Perhaps vou have not discovered yet that I am extremely partisan, and I was al- ways fond of Harry Underwood. It ther= is any chance of his return- ing to the place in life which he ought rightfully to occupy, I'd like to be sure that his wife realized he had a few cards to match those played by that archaic artist, Robert Savarin.” Copyright. 1927, Newspaper Feature Service, Inc. “Have you heard the news, Peter?” cried Sammy excitedly Meanwhile, over in the Old Pas- ture, Old Man Coyote was leading the way to the home in which he had lived so long, and behind him | trotted Mrs. Coyote. (Copyright, 1527, by T. W. Burgess) The next story: “Old Man Coyote | Gets a shock Menas for the Family Breakfast — Cherries, ecereal, cream, potato cakes, spinach in cream, delicate muffins, milk, cof- | fee. Luncheon—Cheese fondue, brown bread and butter sandwiches, vege- table salad, orange jumbles, milk, Dinner—Fried chicken, milk, gravy, twice baked sweet potatoes, scalloped tomatoes and green beans, head lettuce with Roquefort cheese dressing, frozen custard, pecan mar- milk, coffee. £ the dinner is wanted for & | “company" affair a strawberry cock- tail makes an ideal first course. tart berries should be slightly sweet- ened and generously sprinkled with orange juice, The mixture is then thoroughly chilled for an hour or two before serving. Scalloped Tomatoes and Green Beans Four medium sized tomatoes, 1-2 pound green beans, 1 onion, 2 green 2 tablespoons buttor, 1 tea- poon sugar, 1-§ coarse bread peppers spoon salt, 1-2 teaspoon pepps crumbs. Peel tomatoes and cut in slices Cover the bottom of a well buttered baking dish with « thin layer of RUUSIRUED AND COPYRIGHTED BY ‘WHAT HAS HAPPENED. Phillip Wynne Tracy IV had had a childish engagemept with Natlee Jones. Then he becomes interested in Lyra Hilllard, an old friend of his mother's. The whole affalr, however, sinks into nothingness be- cause America enters the World ‘War. ¥ Phillip Tracy and Rodney Max- well are the first to enlist. They go to a training camp. Finally the regiment {s ordered back to New York, presumably bound for France, While in New York, Phil meets Natlee and their love flaming anew, they plan to be married. The immediate departure of the troops, however, prevents this. Phil’s regiment is sent to the front soon after arriving in France and Phil is detsiled on an extremely dangerous mission. Returning with important information he is wound- ed and Rod iz killed trying to save his friend. Phil wakes in a hospital and receives the croix de guerre for bravery. His mother, Anne Tracy, in the meantime has been at death’s door with flu and while convalescing, Major Aukland tries to persuade Anne to marry him. She will not give him an answer, however, until she hears from Phil, and to that tend decldes to go to France to hunt him. As Anne is leaving the War Office in Paris with her passes to Germany, she comes face to face with her son. Here the story further unfolds— CHAPTER XLII Phillip Could Not Stand the Strain of Meeting Anne Huntington Tracy never knew what she sald or did when she found her son at the Place de 1a Concord on the Rue de Rivoli. She was halfway to the Crillon, her arms about PFillip’s neck, her lips on his, when this earth again came into her consciousness. He had lifted her from her feet and walking backward, with her hody pressed against his. His heart was beating against hers with such a clamor that it seemed to her his strong young arms were crushing heaven into her heart. She opened her eyes, almost afraid that she would find her love and longing had played a trick upon her reason. Again she lost track of everything except that she was cnveloped in golden sunshine that poured warmth and happiness into her soul. She had never known how she had missed Phillip's smile until she ners of his lips and shining through the tangled lashes of his speaking eyes. There was a sound of music in her ears; the music of broken tnd forgotten words—Incoherent words that said nothing but told her everything. It seemed to her that it might be thus in that last day when God, was treading the last world into oblivion. In that moment Anne Tracy lived the eons of bliss which told her that the promise of heaven to the world weary and miserable, was something very tangibl: and real. Neither Phillip nor his mother realized that they had been guided by the hand of Major Aukland in- side the door of Hotel Crillon and into a secluded corner of the lobby, where with a sigh that was almost a groan he had left them. They did not know that he had gone, for they had not realized that he had ever been there beside them. To them, as yet there was no world except that which was bound by their encircling arms—whether it was still that day or another, they did not know. She only was aware that some- where the morning stars were sing- ing together; singtng her son's Anne Huntington Tracy never found her son at the found it again curling up the cor- | name. At last, after another eternity of speechless joy had passed, she found her voice. “How did you come here, son?" ‘With much hesitation, . for his mouth seamed parched from his emotion, Phi! told his mother that he, through some stroke of luck had been chosen as one of the boys to be sent to the Sarbonne. “I have been expecting & letter every day telling me thht you were coming over, for I had written vou that T' was Lere,” explained Phillip. “I have been very {ll. They thought I was going to die, Phillip, but now I seo that I could not go until I had seen you, my son.” The boy’'s lips softly closed her eyes, It was the did tender caress that had been his father's. It had never falled to thrill her. She stirred as further conscious- ness of something beside Philllp crossed her brain. She looked about. Where was Major Aukland? When had he left them? As it in reply to her silent ques- tion her eyes caught his, and he instantly cams in answer to their summons. - Beforo the Major got through the crowded room, where he was stopped many times by friends who had not seen him since the war had parted them, Philllp was taken by a violent paroxysm of coughing, and Anne nearly collapsed as she saw that the handkerchief he removed from his lips had tiny flecks of blood upon it. “Phillip, you are {ll!” Anne sald in a terrified whisper. “Come, you must go with me at once to the hotel and I will summon a doctor.” *“No, dear,” he answered when he was able to speak. “It is that damned gas, but don't worry, Mum, I'm getting better all the time. The doctor sald I would be all right if 1 only lived quietly and kept away from all excitement. I have been trying to do that, but—Oh, Mother, dear—" Again his arms went about her and his head sank on her breast. “This meeting was worth all the hardship I have passed through. Tt is worth dying for.” “You must not talk of dying, Phillip. Now that I have gotten, you, I shall not let you die.” “0f course I am not going to die now dear, but Mother darling. I do not believe I can stand this won- derful emotion. T must get away | trom everybody—even you—and get {hold of myself. You understand, do you not, dearest?" Anne Tracy looked at her son. He was very white. “Let me take you to the hotel and get a nurse, Phillip?” “Nonsense. T'll be all right. T'll £0 back to my room and rest today, and tomorrow I'll come over to the Ritz and have breakfast with you, and we will make arrangements to be together. You are going to stay {until I'm discharged, aren't you?" | “I am going to stay with you the | remainder of my life, son.” | Thesc words greeted John Auk- {1and as he came upon the two, and | further confirmed the knowledge ! that he nted to deny. | *“John,” said Mrs. Tracy, “this is my boy whom you have not seen ‘ since he was a child. Phil, T wonder if you remember Major Aukland?” The two looked at each other — | Major Auklind enviously, for al- | though he hed heard Phillip cough- |ing and heard the one word, “gas,” that the friend with whom he was talking spoka in explanation, he en- vied Phillip. that experience he had just witnessed. He too felt as did | the boy—it was worth dying for if | necessar: In speaking afterwards to Anne, he said: "I never saw such a look on human face as was on yours knew what she sald or did when she Place de Ia Concord on the Rue de Rivoll, and Phil's. For the first time in my lite I knew what beatific vision meant. I have seen on earth, biiss such as that of angels and saints in heaven.” 7 “What do you think, John,” sald Anne Tracy, “this foolish boy says he must do. You must have heard him cough a few minutes ago. Well, he says he must go away from me and get hold of himselt. He'will not even let me take him to my hotel and install a nurse in kis room, which I am sure he needs.” Phil turned to Major Aukland. *Tt is rather humiliating. sir, to have to ~onfess that my nerves are atill a bit ragged from sl shock. How- ever, I am sure you will acknowl- edge that « meeting as unexpected as this one with my mother has been s some excuse for my condi- tion. I want to be sir, before 1 forget myselt and go all to pleces.” The boy was trembling violently and beforo his mother could say an- cther word, he turned and fled. Frantically Mrs. Tracy tried to catch up with her son before he reached the door, but the little knots of men who impeded her way had made way for him. All the officers about the hotel had seen these emotional outbreaks among thelr temperamental young sol- dlers before and they respected their desire to be -alone at such times. “Walt, Anne.” John Aukland put 2 detaining hand upon her arm. “Don’t stop me, John,” comman- ded Mra. Tracy, as she pulled away from him. “Phillip is fll—you must have seen thag he ia very ill, and he did not leave his address with m “When did he say he was coming to see you, Anne? He knows of course that you are at the Ritz." “I don't know. I don’t know if 1 told him or not.” Her face which was terrified, suddenly cleared up and she smiled. “But he is alive, John, he is alive, Please God, I shall never be separated from him again.” Major Aukland sald nothing. He upon his love story, but he also knew that life held nothing for him except the knowledge of Anne Tracy's continued happiness, at whatever cost to himself. “What are you going to do the rest of the day, Anne?" he asked. “I have not the slightest idea. After one has gone through such an emotional upheaval as has just been mine, it leaves one rather unsettled, doesn’t it? I think perhaps I'll go on a clothes buying jag.” “Good Lord!” Aukland exclaimed, hat is that? T think I'll go and buy me some Paris gowns and hats and stockings and gloves and slippers and any other thing that strikes my fancy.” John Aukland stopped still in his tracks. “Do you mean to tell me, Anne, that you will be able to clear your mind of all this unprecedented ex- perience just by buying a lot of clothes? I was going to suggest that we take a motor out to Saint Cloud.” “Nature would not give me any satisfactory soporitic today, John. Nature is very beautiful at times and at others very terrible, but it is never very sympathetic.” “Do you mean to tell me that you will find contentment in going to the shops, Anne?"” “Certainly, John. Surely you have heard of the woman who * said, ‘There is a satisfaction in belng well dressed that religlon cannot give'.” “No, T never heard of that be- fore, Anne. Let us go over to Ciro's for luncheon and then I'll put you in a taxi and send you on your way to financial ruin, for a woman who net only buys clothes to cover her body but to calm her squl is lost.” CHAPTER XLIII A Shopping Jag “I'll come around and take you out to the theater tonight.” *“But, John, I want you to go with me to the great dressmaking houses on the Rue de la Paix. I think they will interest you. If they do not, I am sure thelr models and manni- kins will.” “Anne, I wonder what you would say if I should tell you that no | woman, young or old, bgautiful or clever—in short, no woman in all the world except yourself—would 1 have the slightest interest for me? Dear, must 1 go through the years that the remainder of my life holds for me, alone?” Mrs, Tracy did not answer until they were seated side by side on the | velvet-colored bench behind a table at Ciro": Then, after the luncheon had been ordered, she turned to the man | beside her and sald: “John, I am very fond of you. You have been kinder to me than any other man I have ever known, and yet 1 feel that it would not be fair to you to try to give you & place in my heart which you must | have seen is entirely occupled by | Phillip. I did not know how much |I loved him until today. T did not :knaw how utterly cheerless had [Pgen the months that Tave just crumbs. Add a layer of tomatoes, | beans which have been boiled twenty minutes, ‘and finely and seeded and minced peppers. Season with salt and pepper and sugar and dot with butter. Add an- other layer of tomatoes, beans and scasoning. Cover with crumbs and bake thirty minutes in a hot oven. The beans should be washed and cut in diamond shaped pieces after the strings are removed. Cook in just enough holling water to cover. minced onion 666 is a Prescription for Colds, Grippe, Flu, Dengue, dilious'Fever and Malaria, .. s kills the geema _ 4 4? Merely Margy, An Awfully Sweet Girl s //, ?TWICE! knew that the knell had been rung | | roads and places night. During the day this 1S an |,k and dragging a floor cushion near, sat down with his head in her 1ap. passed without him. “Do you know, John, when I came to myself and found that I had my arms about Phillip’s neck, I had the same feeling that I had when he, baby, was first placed in my arms? I realised that all the pain and heart sickness that had been mine ever aince that day almost two years ago when he first told me he had enlisted had gone. I had my baby grown to be a man—but still my baby. It was as though T had borne him twice, onde in my body's and once in my soul's travail " #John, few mothers’ sons mean to them what Phillip means to me. I have been not only his mother, but I have stood “in the place of his father whom he never saw. I really do not belleve that I have any love left for anyone eise, Perhaps in the future something might change my mind, but in the meantime it would not be fair to you to keep you waiting around for something that would be—even if by any pos- sibility it should be given to you— not worth accepting.” John Auklend placed his hand over the small one which was lying on the table. “The least you could give me, Anne, would be more than -worth the taking. I know, dear, that I am almost impertinent to keep my af- fairs in the foreground at this mo- ment, but I want you to remember —you must remember, dear girl, that I loved you long before you were the mother of this boy. “Do you not knos dear, that however much he was stirred by this unexpected meeting, “when he has time to adjust himself, both his mind and his heart will seek those of his own age?” “Why do you torture me, John?" “I do not mean to, Anne, but what T have just been telling you is lite. It is inevitable. However, T will not worry you any longer. Come, I have never in my life been into a woman's shop.” “Truly the old order changeth!” The day passed much faster for Anne than she had thought it pos- sible. She found herself buying gowns and hats and wraps and neg- ligees—for Phil. Would he like this? Would this be 80 becoming that he would think his mother was beau- titul? “This” was a cloth of gold eve- ning wrap that Major Aukland, who had really become interested in the shopping, had admired extravagant- h b of a u b hi ly. “You look like the goddess of the eun in that golden cloak, Anne,” he sald. “Do you think Phil will like me in it?" said Anne, wistfully. “T never heard him accused of not having good taste. I am sure he will adore you in it.” “I'll take the gold evening -vrap,” she sald without hesitation. 1t was 6 o’clock before they start- ed for the hotel, and Mrs. Tracy in- sisted that the major should dine with her in her suite at the hotel. After dinner they went for a ride along the Bois. t Almost sleeplly Anne talked to John Aukland. i “Strange, lsn’t it, how different | look when it is h a abode of fashion, but at night—or perhaps I should at ‘at least to- night'—it is a velvety path over which we are gliding straight to happiness. “Take me back to the hotel, John. 1 have changed my mind about na; ture. This night and this drive has filled me with a delicious calm. ‘When I think to what I looked for- ward this morning, I am absolutely filled with awe. 1 thought when T awakened that by night I would be mad with impatience and uncer- tainty: instead, I am sleepily con- tent. Tomorrow 1 will awake to breakfast with Phil.” “I will not come to see you to- morrow, dear,” said the major. “You will have so much to talk over with your son that I would only be in the way.” It John Aukland had hoped that Anne would disclaim his being in the way, he must have been disap- s| ci “Yes, dear John, but I know you understand that tomorrow anybody He made no comment, as saying “Good night” again, he left the woman with whom he felt he was | more in love than ever in a hopeless frame of minrd. It humiliated him votlon he had given to Anne should |t be dependent on the whim or preju- dice of a boy. most untoward fate that the son of | b Phillip Wyrne Tracy IIT should | t. carry on the battle for Anne’s love, which the father had commenced so long ago. Tor the first time in 20 years John Aukland was ready to rail against the fate that had given Anne | i to Tracy instead of himself. He told himself that her husband | t! had never made her happy: that Phillip would probably marry and most, and she would be aléne. Phil's mother, however, had no | I such thoughts as that to trouble her as she prepared for bed. All she could see in the future was a path of light which she |l would travel with her son by her side. After her talk with Natlee, she torn between Jerome Kenyon and | Phillip, and 1t Phil did not return to America for some time, Jerome plans mothers from cause of to think that the outcome of the de- | the varlous available sons develop the riding on street cars or trains, some by swinging and seesawing, persons get shaken by the wind, others by rld- as is obvious from the babies do not leave her in the next few vears at | rocked, are indeed was almost sure that her mind was | between would probably win her, This d14 not worry Mrs. much, for she had in the back of her head that letter which she had sent to him just before the armis- tice. She, like many other innocent minded women, had never realized that a man could love a woman de- votedly and be untrue to her as often as time and place and cir- cumstances permitted. . 8he did not know that mest men parate passion from leve at will, “We will stay in France,” she said to herself, “until the end of Phillip’s schooling and then we might travel for a year or two if he wishes.” She went to sleep, happy in these for her son's future, which time immemorial ave made, only to see them crum- le, because they have not yet learned that no one can plan an- ther's life with the surety that it will be carried out. Tt was a vigorous rap at her door early the next morning that —wak- ened her. Jumping out of bed she ran in her night-dress to open it. “Mother, it's Phillip,” called a glad young voice. Bhe flung the door open wide nd was gathered up in her son’s arms. Quickly he carried her acrgss the room and seating himselt in a low chair besjde a window he held her on his lap while he turned her face p to his. “Let me look at you, young lady. Aren't you ashamed of yourself to e 80 young and pretty and still be the mother of an old man like me?” “You are very thin, Phillip,” Anne sald, as she ran her fingers through is hair. “What do you expect when one lives on bully beet and goldfish? Besides, you know that a burned upper through it for good measure is apt to take the flesh off one’s bones. ‘Now, woman, where is something to wrap you up in?” lung with a hole bored Phil picked his mother up from off his lap as he rose and, puttirg her back on the cushions, said: ‘Sit still until I find a lounging robe.” Never in her life had Anne Tracy been bullied and babled in just this fashion and she gave herself up to the joy of it. She watchcd him pull out the dresses from the closet with such content that she did not realize that the robe he was looking for was o her bed. S He left the closet in a mess as e went into her sleeping room for the lounging robe. The room seemed darker when he left it, but he soon came back, and pulling his mother up onto her feet, Ae thrust her arms into the sleeves nd wrapped the garment about her. Then he carried her over to a low cushioned divan in front of a grate where the “fagots” had been laid. “Now are vou comfy?” he asked as he pressed his hard young lips 0 hers. - She bowed her head. She knew t she spoke she would burst into ears. After lighting the fire he came “Now tell me all about it,” he re- manded. (To Be Continued) Your Health How to Keep It— Causes of Iliness BY DR. MORRIS FISHBEIN Editor Journal of the American Medical Association of Hy- gela, the Health Magazine. There are as many views of the seasickness as there are pecialties in the practice of medi- ine. Nelther the physiologic nature pointed, for she sald, eagerly: nor the causes of the condition are known. dition by all sorts of medicines have on this earth would be in the way.” | fajled in most instances, chanical appliances of one type or another or habits of life have been equally without, effect. Attempts to treat the con- and me- The Russian physiologist, W. W. Boldyreff, has recently considered views as to he nature of this disturbance. Bol- dyreft points out that seasickness is It scemed to him a | not gonfined to people on the ocean, ut may be associated with various vpes of land occupation. Some per- condition wken it when houses are ng up and down on elevators. Rocking s not the special mo- fon most frequently responsible, fact that get seasick when and that rocking chairs widely used without produc- ng scasickness in adults. Some persons develop the type of nausea associated with seasick- ness when climbing mountains or ooking down from high places. Many persons become quite sea- sick during aerlal flights, so many that the airplanes flying | London and Paris are regularly equipped for taking care of the nausea of passengers. 18 seasickness Nor confined to human some | most domestic animals and even in birds The Russian ph has noted that the attacks come on at regular intervals .and that they accompany an abundant secretion of saliva. A series of experiments on the movements and activities of the stomach causes Boldyreff to believe the symptoms of sea- sickness are assoclated with peri. odic activity of the stomach due to irritation of the lining of the intestines by the digestive juices which come into it in large quan- tities. Disorders of the stomach and of the intestines predispose to seasickness, and he has found tkat persons with such disorders may be caused to have an atfack of sca- sickness by filling the small intes- tine with a large amount of saliva or of water. The periodic activity of the stomach and intestines, which seems to have something to do with seasickness, he believes, 1: more pronounced in young people and in animals, more noticeable in women than in men. It is in- creased by cooling of the body and stopped temporarily by fer or pain, but coming back, as these sensations ceass, With greater force. iz ) \\\m\\\\\\\\\\\m“»:\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\*{\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ O A A realistically feathered duck swims comfortably amid appliqued green felt reeds on a silver leather pond on this beige felt sports hat. FLAPPER FANNY SAY. Garters are not admired be| ¢ause they work sisteen hours, . at » stretch. " said, “I'm going to be candy store. ... and wear a white paper crown on my head..... AND one day I'll eat chocelates ....thenext 'l sattaffy....and the day after that I'll eat peanut brit- tle. O! and maybe 1M BEGINNING TO THINK THE HORSE DOESNT