New Britain Herald Newspaper, June 25, 1927, Page 4

Love’s Embers Adele Garrisow’s ‘Absorbing Sequel to “Revelations of a Wife” Beginning a New Sei A Bit of Gallantry tn Quite the Vic- tovian Mamner Lillian met us at the door of her small suite, her hands outatretched in friendly greeting. “Thls is mighty sweet of you. Phil to include me in your party,” she told Mr. Veritzen, and there Was no trace in her voice or eyes of her delicately malicious comprehen- sién of the reason for the invitation which he had given her. But my employer’s answer revealed thrt he did not understand her gibe, and that, as I feared, he had overheard her telephone query to me, “Is the tifebbat needed 2" My dear,” he said impressively, 4t is 1 who should extend thanks to you. Don’t you Kmow that you arg as eagerly desired on any party of mine as ever lifeboat was by ship-wrecked mariner?” y Not by the flicker of an eyelash | did Lillian betray her recognition of the thrust. “You're such a poctic old darling, PhiL,” she replled pertly, “that I think you deserve a kiss for your neat phrasing.” She grazed his neck in the merest excuse for a carcas, dodged his arm immediately and expertly outflung to encircle her, and darted to the door-way between her living-room and tiny bedroom. “I'm all ready except my hat,” she flung back at him, in noncha- lant dismissal of the episode, But tfrom under my demurely lowered eye-lashes, T saw that she had scor- ed In the little exchange of wits. She had strue the one note he | dreaded to hear—that of his ad- vancing age—in her quip and for ap instant the lines around his n1outh had dcepened and his brows contracted. ‘Lillian had run, immediately she | had shot her bolt, without waiting to see its effcct upon him. He gent | a furtive glance at me, and evident. ly reassured by my discreetly low- ered lashes that I had not noticed his momentary discomfiture, he flashed an audaclous call after my | friend. “Don't think I'm going to permit ! that exit,” he said. "No director in the world would stand for that fu- tile imitation of a kiss. Come hack kere and do it properly Bhe reappeared in the doorway, smartly hatted and gloved an \ Mrs. Coyote Takes Charge By Thornton W. Burgess | | | 'Tis only thosa for some time wed | Who kncw which one is being led. | —Old Mother Nature For the first time in his life Old Man Coyote found himself trotting behind another. For the first time in his life he was doing not what | he wanted to do, but what some one else wanted to do. He was trotting meekly at the heels of Mrs. Coyote. He had a funny feeling inside. In- | stgad of bringing Mrs Coyote to his | ol@ home to live, she was leading | him away from it 1o live; and the | queer part of it all is, he was going | without any real protest. He was olng becanse Mra. Coyote wanted | to go. “The trouble with that place is,” said Mrs, Coyote over her shoulder, “that you have lived there too long. Everybody knows about that housc of yours. What we need now is a house that fclks don’t know about. | and T know just the place to build it.” / “Whereabouts " Man Covote. “You'll see all in good time. Just follow me,” replied Mrs. Coyote. 014 Man Coyote meekly did as | ‘he was bidden. Mrs. Coyote led the way up through the Old Pasture to the farthest corner where it joined | the Green Forest. Tt was quite ove grown up there. Not even the cows Zot up there very often. Young treecs were springing up all about. There weére bushes and triars and there was a ledge of rocks. This ledge was partly underground and partly above ground. Mrs. Coyote led Ol Afan Coyote to this ledge of rock. Then she trotted along the ledge. During the day when jolly, round Mr. Bun was shining brightly that ledge of rock would he very dry in- deed. No scent would hold on th rock. Midway of the ledge there was & break in it. Mrs. Coyote light- | 1y leaped across. Old Man Covote | followed. | At the end of the ledge Mrs. Coy- | ote disappeared in a thicket. In the | midst of this thicket was the stump of a great old tree. Beneath the t inquired 010 spreading roots and underneath the | stump, lorg. long ago somebody had started a house. Already Mrs. Coy- | ote had cleared out the rubbish at the entrance. going to live,” sald she. Old Man Coyote tried to look pleascd, but he didn't make much of a ruccoss of it. Mrs, Coyote saw this. She grinned. "I kno dear, hut you're going to love it by and by. Now, suppose you go get me something to cat while T get right to work. And whatever you G0, my dear, don't take any chances. Just keep away from those two- legged creaturcs called men. Now do as T say. while T take charge. This 18 to be our new home and you are going to say it is the finest home you have ever had.” 014 Man Coyote did his best to look cheerful as he started off to hunt for food. Mrs. Coyote watched him out of sight and then began digging. My. how she did make the sand fly! Every once in a while she would pause to rest. Whenever she 414 this she would think of Old Man | Coyote and grin as she recalled how | hard he had tried to look pleased. Then she would go to work and dig harder than ever. ‘When Old Man Coyote returned, fauy LAAdLV, otz “This s where we are said | she, “that you don't like it now, myv | with a modish motor cloak thrown around her. Lillian has the rare art of wearing clothes, ‘and she also | possesses the common sense tu let someone else whose honesty and taste she can trust, do her buying | for her. Years ago she lived in the same house with a woman who afterward became an assistant to a world-renowned creator of styles. When the employer, whose business ability was tn inverse ratio to her | artistic flair, became bankrupt, the | woman, with very little capital, started a dress shop upon an un- fashionable but busy street, keeping her affillations with the sources of | supply which had fed her employ- er's exclusive establishment. Here Lillian found her again, and im- | mediately put herself in the other's | capable sartorial hands. As a re- | sult she, and Marion alse, were al- | ways smartly clothed, at reasonable | prices and with the least possible ! waste of Lillan's time, every hour of which spelled dollar: I gave her strong, handsome face, her steady vet mirthful gray eves, her silvery hair, ahd her erect youthful figure the meed of admira- tlon which she always calls forth from me. [ saw the same tribute in | Philljp Veritzen's face as she made a grimace at his command. “It wouldr't be possible to kiss you properly, Phil” she said auda- clously. “You're not that kind of person. Besides, the bell-boy is at the door, T am sure. T phoned fcr him before I put on my things and I must consider my rep-p-u-tation. Of course you have none to consider, but your frierds aren’t all in that highly fortunate and desirable con- dition.” She was at the outer door before she had finished, and throwing it open she stepped into the hall out- side. Mr. Veritzen, who had taken a swift step toward her, _stopped short, and with a grin of acknowl- edging surrender, thrust his hands outward toward her, as she looked back, laughing over her shoulder. “Kamerad!” he excleimed, and Lillian’s little triuniphant laugh had not yet died upon her lips when the hell-hoy appeared to carry down the drawing board which she had stipu- lated she must bring with her upon ur outing. Copyright 1927, Newspaper Feature Service, Inc. Mrs. Coyote watched him out of sight and then began digging her, and while she ate them he went to look at what she had been doing. “That is nicz dry sand,” he re- marked. “Yes,” replied Mrs. Coyote, “it is nice dry sand. That means that we will have a nice dry bedroom, and hat means everything. You may never have noticed it, but that old home of yours was rather damp.” Old Man Coyote looked at the en- trance critically. He wanted to find fault, but he couldn't. There had been just room enough Dbetween hose roots and a rock for that en- trance and it never could be made any larger. No one would ever dig it open to, muke it larger. Once in- side, they weuld be safe from all enemies, “I hope, my dear. that you planning a back door.” ventured Old Man Coyote. “Leave it to me” replied Coyote. “If you don't like this 1ouse en it Is finished you can go back to your old one. So there, my dear!” (Copyright, 1927, by T.W. Burgess) TREE-TOP gathering wild- She had a few Spring Beauties and some yellow violets, and three green leaves, There were many more to pick, but Rosemary knew how they loved to stand with their delicate white feet in the cool. soft earth. So she only 1 ked enough for her little blue ¢ & She lifted a picce of feathery moss from a log to tuck around the stems and keep them fresh. Just then she saw a Fairy waving to her from a violet. “Thank vou." the Fairy whis- pered. “Welove . you because you ) are so kind to, our flowers.™ | from him for {marry a French divorcee with are | Mrs. | WLUSTRUED AND COPYRIGHTED BY JOUNSON What Has Happened: ! “But don’t you understand, John, He however, never made &ny ref- Phillip Wynne Trl.C) IV has had | that Paillip's aricestors have all | erence to his romance, but at least a childish engugement with Natlee been professional mep—Ilawye.s, one evening cach week she was left Jones. Becoming interested in Lyra { architects and surgeons? Just be- | to the tender mercies of Major Auk- Hilliard, an ol¢ friend of his moth- | fore the war he said he intended to [ land, who er's, he soon finds he is falling in love with her. Philllp Tracy and Rodney Max- well are among the first to enlist in the World War. Phil's regiment ts sent to the front soon after arriving in France, and Phil is wounded while on a danger- ous mission. Rod is killed trying to save his frlend and Phil recelves the | croix de guerre for bravery. While recovering #n the south of France, armistice is declared and Phi}, mecting certain requirements, is awarded a scholarship in a French university and returns to | Paris. His mother. not having heard months, goes to France to hunt him, and Major Aukland, who s devoted to Anne Tracy, accompanies her. Unexpect~ edly, she ~omes face to face with her son. The next morning at breakfast Phil and his mother talk things over and to her consternation Mrs. Tracy learns that Phil intends to a four-year-old child. She collapses as Phil leaves her. and Major Auk- land, who has come to take her out, hearing her sobs, walks into the room. Here the story further unfolds— CHAPTER XLVI Down to Earth Again “That boy of yours, Anne, tainly takes after his father. cer- He gets in and out of love'with great | celerity and dispatch. All your sus- picions seem to agree with what he tells you from time to time.'" Mrs Tracy had bathed her tear- swollen face and slightly lightened the tint of her nose with powder. and now, partially composed. was sitting with ber back to the lighty facing Major Aukland. “Are you sure you understood Phillip, my dear?” “I could not mistake him. He rald that he did not want to go back to the States ever—and when I taxed him with being interested in some woman, he acknewledged 1 was right. Oh, John, what shall T do?" “Marry me,” answered Major Aukland promptly. “Don't jcke about {t, John. Tt's too serious a matter.” “I never was more serfous in my life, Anne.” “But don’t you see that is not a solution? T cannot leave Phillip over here while T go back to America. Burely you can understand that after what you saw yesterday.” “T have no ohfection to liying in France. or Timbuctoo, provided you are there, dear,” asserted John Auk- land. “Neither does that help, TJohn. The truth of the matter is that T do not want Philllp to stay In France. With the money that his grandmother left him and what will be his after T am gone—com- bined with his wife's fortune, he can live a life of ease here, but with the great American background that he has, it would seem like the betrayal of his ancestors to be an alien to his own land.” “Is her morey inherited?”. “She had before the war one of the largest silk factories in France. It has been pretty badly shot to pieces, but I am sure that it can be quickly restored,” Mrs. Tragy ex- platned. ¢ “Well, that will certainly Phillip something to do.” sive “So that is in a way & follow his father and grandfather in the law.” 1y & boy, Anne. has pulled aloof from what his forefa.ders bave done.” “John Aukland, are you trying to plead Phillip’s cause? “No, Anme dear, I'm afraid I am Just trying td help my own,” an- awered the major honestly. | “How- ever, T will not do that any longer. The worst thing about“this whole affair is that the lady in question is of a different race — that she is 10 years older than Philllp, who is too youngvto know his own mind—and that she has a child four years old.” “That's the whole thing in a nut- shell, John. In fifteen years, Phillip would probably be making love to { his wife’s davghter.” John Aukland. grinned. “T don't think the marriage would last that long—not with-a Tracy,” he com- forted. “T don’t krow about that, John," said Anne Tracy, who refu to see any light in the situation, “Phil- lip has a great streak of loyalty in | his make-up.” “What ahout Natlee?” Major ukn sda ekGRFM HOb.ndi-schmru Aukland asked rather cuelly. “I don’t think he has ever felt bound to Natlee. You see, she has always been too proud to let him think he was under any love obliga- tions to her¥ am sure he got that impression from her last letter. John, 1 was that way with Phillip’ father, and I think that is why I could not keep him. The Tracys have always thought more of their ‘word’—spoken or implied—than of their sexual faithfulness to the wo- men who loved them. Anyway, it's on the knees of the gods. “Come on, John, let's go over to the Louvre. T want to look again | at that smile on the face of ‘Mona | Lisa.’ If it be sincere, that woman had suffered, and in suffering had learned how to laugh at all the world, including herself. Perhaps T'll have to take a leaf out of ker book soon.” “She was a great girl, Anne, '.ut d don’t think we have time to do { that. Phil will be coming in a few | minutes, and I am going to take | you to Armeroville to dinner.” { That night the major never batted an cyelash when he was cut | by some of the other A. E. F. offi- | cers because he was dining in a | public restaurant with an enlisted ! man. | Not a word was sald about this, |but Anne was extremely grateful. | Strange as {t may seem, however, Phil rather resented that fact that | Major Aukland made a regimental {faux pas seemingly with eager gladness because he knew it would | please the woman he loved. In time | | of peace, at least, he put her be-’ i fore regimental red tape. | The days that had dragged on iTeaden feet while Phil was away | from her, now rushed past o swift- |1y that Anne did not know where | they went. She met many of her | friends in Paris. She made new | friends in both the American and French legation sets. | Pat had called upon her, and she had returned the call with cere- mony. She!kad met Pat's mother |and sensed immediately that she | was quite as much opposed to Phil- | lin's marrying her daughter as Anne | | was opposed to Pat marrying Yer | son. always had some gorgeous and amusing entertain- ment for her. Late spring in Paris, than which nothing on this earth can bs more beautiful, found everything on ew- actly the same footing as it was when she arrived in France. Anne and Phillip had unfortu- nately dropped from that plane of emotional fervor to which they rose on their first meeting. They had become just everyday mother and son. Down in the heart of each there still remained the feeling that their great love for each other was there, but it was not to be brought out in everyday life. Anne, on the advice of Major Aukland, had.been particularly nice to Pat. She had dined at her home, and had her to dine at the different fashionable cafes. Phil was at times moody and at times very gay. Anne could not help seelng the growing antagqnism be- tween him and Major Aukland. This ‘was especially pronounced that day when, after much pleading, Mrs. Tracy had persuaded Philllp to go to Chateau Thierry with her ‘o see the place where he had swam the Marne. Phillip had absolutely -de- clined to make the trip 1if Major Aukland was to be of the party. “T will not have that old wind- bag asking me questions. I don't want to live it all over again, God knows. It will be bad enough to see the place where Rod saved my worthless life, without describing it to any damned stranger.” Phillip and his mother set out alone. The boy, who like all the young soldiers, had never sald much about the months of hardships which he had passed through, was particularly silent ali the way up to Chateau Thierry. They neared the historic river, Phil began to show a little excite- ment. He stietched his neck and looked about the familiar place. As they drove along beside the Marne, which was sluggishly winding its way through the blackened earth banks, he pointed out here and there a spot” which the Americans had held. Suddenly he rose and stood in the open motor. “There it is, Mother!” He pulled her up beside him. “There it 1s!” Then he stopped and ex- claimed wonderingly, “Why, how narrow it is!" Anne Tracy threw her arms about her son’s neck and laughed and cried, while he explained that on the night when he was swimming amid a perfect hall of machine gun bullets, it had secmed as wide as the Atlantic ocean. sl Phil had made the chauffeur stop the motor. He and his mother got out. Prescntly she saw him fall on his knees and drop his face almost, to the turf. “Rod, Rod.” he whis- pered, “T haven’t forgotten, old man, and I'm very lonely for you. No cne can fill your place.” Anne stepped back a little. She knew that even a mother had no right to come between this com- munion of two souls. All the way back hardly a word was said, but when they reached the hotel, Phillip found a “Petit Bleue.” After reading it he said: "Mother, can you bring your man Friday around here tonight?" “Phil, T wil' not let you spegk in that way of Major Aukland. Have vou been called out? If so, you need not be afraid of leaving me by my- self. 7 have some letters to write and T will do them this evening. n ‘announcement dress' " . 'Marely Margy, An Awfully Sweet Girl I SWIiLT SWELL t JUST “By the way, I see that the boys who are down here at the Borbonne will be sailing home In about six weeks. If you are thinking of being discharged in France, you had bet- ter put In your application.” CHAPTER XLVII A Very Swccessful Announcement Party . “We will talk of that in the morn- ing dear. I am off now.” Hastily kissing his mother, Phil- 1lip left, and although Anne was sure he had gone to Pat, she was glad to be alone. Since that first morning when they had talked of Natlee, Philip had never mentioned her 1ame. Anne Tracy had sent her the con- ventional picture cards during her first week in Paris, and received no |answer. It she had written to Phil- 11ip, he had not wanted her to know it. He had said nothing about fit. She rather wondered what had come up that had made it so nec- essary that he go to see Pat this evening. Perhaps she, too, had seen the notice that the American_ sol- diers who were at school in Paris would soon be going home. Was it going to be another long separation + from Phillip? 1f so, ghould she marry John Aukland? A tender smile wreathed her lips as she thought of him. No man could |pe kinder to her. Aas though her thoughts had the power to bring him to her, at that moment he ap- peared in her doorway. “All alone, Anne? “Yes. 1 think Phillip had a sum- Y NO. | MEAN YOURE SWELL "WITH HORSES, THE WILDER THEY ARE, THE BETTER YOU mons to appear at the oo He asked me it know that 1 was to be ak “Why did you not do "Because it seemed bave been euongh bother at 1 be with you than with anyone else on earth? I supposs you saw that Phil's comrades will be sailing soon. It he intends to be discharged on this side, he had better be making preparations.” “Yes, 1 told him that, and he sald he would talk about it in the ‘N of something up here ia my room.” “My dear, you put on your stun- ningest frock and that goldy coat we bought the day you met Phil and we will go over to Montmartre and find the gayest and most bohemian place I know. I think a little spice will cheer you up.” Pat's telegram had worried Phil not a little. Although his mother did not know it, he had not scen her for four days. The measage sald, “Has your mother at last persuaded you not to sce me any more? Come to me on receipt of this. I must know."” For the last day or two ho had allowed hiinselt to wonder a little just what the boys who had.already returned were doing on Broadway. He had even bough a New York paper, and in it he had seen a glar- ing page advertisement of “KEN- YON & JONES CANNED MILK.” /e read no more. Instead, he car- ried the paper - over to the grate and lald it softly on the burning coals. As he rode to Pat's apartment, he thought mere than he ever had be- fore’ of his future, and as always, when he thought of himself and any woman growing old together, that woman had the face and form of Natlee Jones. He rang the bell. After the usual delay, the conclerge let him in. “What is the matter, Wynne? Why have you not been to see me? Do you know it has been four days?” “I have been busy, Pat,” he sald, as . he Kkissed her lightly on both cheeke. “Did you eee that the American soldiers who are at school here are preparing to leave for home in about six wecks?” “Yes, dearest, yes. Don't cry so, 1 haven't gone yet." “Did you tell your mother you were going to stay?” “Yes" Again the woman threw her arms about Philis neck, “Dearest one, I have been bad to you. You have been making it all possible, while T have been blaming you for staying away from me. What did your mother say?” “She did not say much. We are “Oh, Wynne, my love, I know she will not let you marry." “] hardly see, Pat, how she can help herself.” “She can prevent it in Paris. You will have to have her consent, and she will never give it.” “Don’t worry, Pat. My mother never refused me anything in her life,” \ “Perhaps not, dear one. Perhaps not in so many words, but I think had it not been for your mother, you would have married that Nat- lee of whom you have told me.” “Well, anyway, I did not,” Phil sald, & bit impatiently. “I expect fate had alreudy put your sign on me."” “When will you take me to your mother as your future wife, Wynne? Lo you know, I am afraid of her. She can be so0 tall and stately and stern and grand.” Phil threw back his head and laughed at this description of his mother. “My dear gir],” he eaid, “my mother is not as tall as you are and she has the wistful kind of eyes that are always asking and always recelving from everyone, love. You will love her, Pat, when you know her better.” T “Perhaps, but I have never seen her eyeas when they asked me to tove her, and I do not belleve she will ever love me. Wynne, I have nearly gone mad these last four days while you have been away. Do you ‘think your mother will ever love me?"” He thanked his stars that at thig moment Chéerie made her appear- ance and held out her arms to him. It gave him an excuse for mot an- swering. He did not want to lle to Pat. Like all men who are successful with women, he always told them the truth—at least a part of it, if he could. In this case he would have had {o make Pat realize that he was afraid his mother would never love her, because of him. In the first place, Anne Tracy would be jealous of her, wmore SO-| than she would be of a young girl whim she might think she could bend to her suggestions. Then Pat must be made to under- stand that if he ever did marry, his mother would much rather he mar- vied an American girl. Thanks to Cherie, whom he loved and who adored him, he did not have to say this. ' Pat was delighted at the display of affection beiween her tiny dayghter and her lover, and she was all smiles when he turned to might Jdo that. friends are going night and 1 thought 8004 time to make my appearance with you alone.” “80 that” he said, looking her over again, “is nouncement dress’ Pat dimpled, “Does it make me beautiful? Wil it do?” “You, dear, make'the frock beau- titul,” he flattered, as he put the ¢hild down. “Come on. We'll make 2 stab at telling the world that an- cther {international allance looms in the distance.” Maxime's was not quite the place that Philllp Wynne Tracy IV would have chosen from which the public announcemen: of his coming mar- riage was to be made, but he said to himeelf, “This at least is one time when the lady's wishes should be law.” ‘When he awakened the next morning, clad in silk pajamas, rath- er small for him, in a bedroom that he had never before seen in Pat's apartment, he told himself that it must have been a very successful announcement party. He wondered just what was the eotiquette of such contingencies in a French home. Meeting the austere mother of Pat, promised to be rather embar- rassing. However, it had never been Phil's way to sidestep the consequences of any of his impulses, conaclops or unconscious, so he took his cold shower calmly, remarking to him- self this had probably been the master's bedroom, When he stepped Into the salon, he found a decldedly frigid atmos-’ phere. Pat had been crying and her mother was more unapproachable, than ever. Cherie, however, bridged the chasm as she had so often done’ tefore. “Oh, good morning, monsieur. Are, you going to live with us? It is nice to have a man in that room. No man has ever been in there since my father went away.” ‘With an inarticulate expression of disapproval, Pat’s mother left the room and Pat threw herself into his arms. z *“What happened?” he asked. ‘I guess T was spifficated.” 5 “It was after $ o'clock when you brought me home, dear Wynne, and I—I—asked yvou to come in.” (To Be Continued) What will Pat’s mother say? More complications unfold in the next in- stallment. Your Health How to Keep It— Causes of [liness BY DR. MORRIS FISHBEIN Editor Journal of the American Medical Association and of Hy- gein, the Health Magaszine Basing his opinions on - experi- mental investigations of the condi ions of the stomach and intestines during sedsickness, the Russian physiologist, W. W. Boldyreff, has outlined a system for the prevention and treatment of seasickness which seems well worth an extensivej trial. He has found that the absence of digestion and of the acid gastric Juices in the stomach will inhibit the perjodic activity of that organ and of the intestines. Such inhibi- Ness sometimes bring on the ate tack. ‘The hiccups may be prevented by the swallowing of much saliva Jqr by the use in the stomach of 1l doses of 0.1 per cent of hy- hloric acid. A physiclan caa ministe: this easily. Foods which are taken should be in small portions, thoroughly chewed and molstened with saliva;’ indigestible parts of the food such 22 skins and seeds should be avold- @4, and also any considerable amount of fat. Atropine, as has been saild, may be administered, but it does mot always serve to check an attuck of seasickness, particularly in the preagnce of the causative factors that” have been mentioned. It sometimes serves alsa to destroy the appetite of perfons who have not particularly good appetites, especlally older persons. Menas for the Family (BY BISTER MARY) .Breakfast—Blackberries, cereal, ¢ream, eggs, poached in milk onf toast, crisp toast, milk coffee. £ Luncheon — Clear soup, toast sticks, spinach salad, rice custard pudding, milk, tea. Dinner—Spanish liver, baked new potatoes, string bean salad, rhubarb jelly with whipped cream, crisp. cookies, milk, coffee. Spanish Liver ’ One peund calves’ liver, 2 sliceg bacon cut 1-4 inch thick, 8 tiny sile ver skinned onions, 2 cups carrot balls, 1-3 cup broken fresh mushe rooms, 2 tablespoons minced parsley, 3 cups canned tomato pulp, 2 cupy boiling water, 2 tablespoons four, 1-3 teaspoon salt, 1:3 teaspoon pap~ rika. Cut liver in half-inch slices. But bacon in atrips 1-4 inch wide. Lard liver slices with bacon strips. Peel and parboil onions. 8crape carrots and cut into balls with a French vegetable cutter. Dice can be made if vegetable cutter is not at hand. Clean and break mushrooms. Rub canned tomatoes through a strainer, Put liver, vegetables, mushrooms, tos matq palp and water into a casser. ole. Cover and cook MiaJdodetate owen for two and “one-hnif' hours, Mix flour, salt and paprika. Slowly stir in enough cold water to make & thin paste. Stir into the gravy in casserole on top of the stove. Bring to the boiling point, stirring con. stantly. Return to the oven for fifteen minutes. Serve from cas- serole. Red on Navy § Y tion is also brought about by the | mental state of fear or fright. On the sea when the boat is rocked, | fear or fright may temporarily stop the periodic activity, but this comes baeck with greater ‘force when the inhibition s discon- tinued. The greater force of the attack produces hiccups, nausea and vomiting, which are the chief symptoms of seasickness. From his observations on the sea for a period of over twenty-five years and from his special experiments. he is convinced also that persons with diseased conditions of the digestive apparatus, especially of the small intestine, become seasick on the ocean. He therefore presents the fol- lowing outline for the prevention of seasickness: The digestive ap- paratus should be kept in perfect order; abundant and heavy food should be voided. Everything capable of producing fright or worry should be avoided. If neces- sury, the person may go to bed and be kept warm, taking sour drinks such as lemon or orange julce in small amounts. Certain drugs such as atropine weaken the periodic activity of the stomach and {ntestines, but nicotine apparently increases the activity and thus encourages the appearance of seasickness. He therefore suggests the giving by a physiclan of small doses of atropine and the avoidance of to- bacco smoke by the non-smoker. The smoker should reduce his usual amount of tobacco. Since the mental {nfluences as- soclated with the production of A red felt flower is worn this smart double-breasted navy wool jacket with brass butto) are likely to | R20.U.S.PAT.OPP. < ' ©1927 BY nea szRvice. nc. Girls who make their o way seldom have it. e s ———— By John Hsld, Jr.