Omaha Daily Bee Newspaper, June 8, 1915, Page 9

: EARLE WILLIAMS o Tommy Barciay ANITA STEWART & The Goddess Written by Gouverneur Morris (One of the Most Notable Pig. ures in American Litersture) Dramatized Into a Photo-Play by W. GODDARD, Author of “The Perils of Pauline” “The Exploite of Nlaine” Uopyright, 1915, by the Star Co. »lgn Rights Reserved All For. Synopsis of Previous Chapters. After the tragic death of Johm Auw bury, his protstrated wife, one of Ameg lca's greatest beauties, dies. At her deeh, THE BEE: OMAHA, M—— TUESDAY, JUNE 8, suddenly in her face and exclaimal in & | |tone of sharp command, “Sleep, Celestin,” | elther she was too sturiled and be wildered to see the oryatal at ail or for |once something was lacking in the pro- | cess, for she sprang to her feet with a cry of fear and ran from him, calling upon Tommy by name at the top of her lungs, 80 she ran after Tommy, and Stiliter ran after her, and the two guides and cld man Smellsgood came out of hiding and followed after him, And in this order they came to the shore of the island, toward which Tommy, alarmed by Celestia’s cries, was struggiing in a | welter of foam But when he actualy saw Colestia, Tommy's enthusiasm for being of ser- | vice to her seomed suddenly to cool. He | let his feet drop to the bottom and stood with Just his head out of water. &o | standing, he saw Stilliter seize Celestia |by the wrist und attempt to force her back toward the camp. He saw her shake Prof. Stilliter, an agent of the interests, | herself free with an estonishing show of kidnaps the beautiful 3-year-old l‘lh)’lan"r.\. and It was as If her eyes no B e e e thie tne | less than her hand went outo him in an is taught by angels, who instruct her for (uppeal for help. her mission to reform the world. AL the | The veins stood out on Tommy's fore- age of 18 she is suddenly thrust into the ', oo world, where agents of the Interests are ready to pretend to find her The one to feel the loss of the little Amesburg girl most, after she had been irfted away by the Interests, Wwas ‘ommy Barclay. Fifteen years later, Tommy goes to the Adirondancks. The interests are respons- ible for this trip. By accident he Ia the first to meet the litile Amesbury girl, as he comes forth from ber paradise as lestis, the girl from heaven. Neither ‘Tommy or Celestia recognize each other. Tommy finds it an easy matter to rescue Celestia from Prof. Stiliter, and they hide in the mountains, later t are pur- sued by Stiliter and escape to an island, where they spend the night. FOURTH EPISODE. Celestia. busy with the cooking, was not troubling her mind about celesttal |dom for a horse. If Tominy had possessed affairs, She felt very earthly, She felt |a kingdom he would have exchanged it as any voung girl would have felt in /willingly at that moment for the simplest such nevel and romantic ciroumstances. Ana much that the previous day and of surpassing im- portance semed now dim and futile, =0 that a few more days of life in the open, far from the occult influences and direc- tion of Prof. Stilliter might have made a normal person of her. The- reason Tommy could not under- stand Celestla was simple. She could not oxplain herself. She believed beyond question that she had always lived in heaven until the day before, when alter a glorious rush through space #he, found horself on earth, seated by & pool of water and looking into the eves of Tomniy Barclay. Do you ever dream? Then you.know how weal the most ‘Dreposterous dream can geem, at the time, and for awhlile after you wake. Suppose you dreamed that ‘you were perfectly happy? could not afterward describe just what that had felt like, any more than you can describe the magical transttions of dreams nor the spelling scenery which so often accompanies a n\lhl'n\l:'m B Almost the whole of Celu\l-‘.;.’lu:‘ 54 she hasard kind that come to the of the hap- R ad & od what sha She had dreamed rest of us. s was directed to dream. rhat & master paychologiet and schemer wod dreamed that it would be best for her to dream. Himself unseen and of:\ far away, she had dreamed as ho willed. There had been people to wait on her, and gee to all her physical needs; but for vears she had looked thess people iaily in the face and never saw them. instead she saw and dwelt among winged ungels, and sublimities among serenities assing all deseriptions and in a state of abgolute uninterrupted bilss. Educated to her finger tips in the lan- zuages of this world, she had never hed a master. In dreams she had been taught, without knowing that she was ‘eurning, all that a great and scrupulous dreamer had thought best for her to now. And as she leaned to the work of cook- ing, her lovely face, red with the heat of the fire, that very dreamer was watching her. from a ueighboring thicket, with almost as much admiration as he feit for himself. And why not? He felt what mind. He even felt responsible, but with less justice, for her beauty. At least he had selected her for his purpose from thousands and thousands of children partly because she was physically per- fect, partly because her parents had been {you “Don’t let him take me away, Tommy!" she cried. | “You leave her alone!" shouted Tommy. | “If you touch her I'll knock your head | oft.” | | But Stilliter by now appreciated Tom- my'c predicament and smiled dryly ‘Come and do it,'' he said. “You know I can't come and do it now, | dog,”” sald Tommy, furiously, “but you just wait!" | “Can't,” sald Stilliter. “In a great hurry. Come, Celestia! You'll be better off with me¢, You can see for yourself that the young man has no intention of risking himself agalnst four of us." had been clear to her | You | slie was, what she was | wolng to be, was all the work of his own | 1% Tt o 48 oceeds in the op-| A certain king once offered his king- pair of bathing trunke. | Celestia, meanwhile drew herself up, tall, proud and cold; she looked at Tommy, just once more, and sho looked ae If sne nad never seen him before. hen she turned to Btilliter. “I will go with you,” she said. Two plans had presented themselves to Tommy. He could have told Celestia to shut her eyes until he told her to open them; then he could have come out of the water and fought for her; but he dis- carded that first plan because he liked | the second better. In this he would come out of the water when she had gone, slip into some of his clothes and follow her. (To Be Continued Tomorrow.) The good example of the combination of gabardine and taffeta Is expressed In a costume worn one morning recently at. Augusta, Ga.,, by a prominent mem- ber of a party returning from San Fran- clsoo to New York. The skirt is very full and the yoke is not really u yoke at all, but a wide band of taffeta gathered in one plece with the cloth section. The joining seams down the sides show a binding of silk with tassel decoration set below the hip line, The coat is so shaped that it conceals the skirt yoke at the back, but in front it assumes the form of an Eton, belted by a girdie of taffeta, which appears to be fastened to the jacket by two orna- mental buttons, Taffeta is used to face By BEATRICE FAIRFAA. “And the way to end dreams is to break them—stand, walk, go.'" Are you Jrifting {dly in the stream of fe? Are you a dreamer? Do you sit and fancy what would be fine in life— provided it ocould be, or do you set about bringing into your life the things that shal make it spiendid. Dreams are splendid, glowing, glorious, ‘wonderful things—provided they are in- centives to action. Dreams are poor Mttle ghosts provided they are only fan- cles, and dreams are cruel jallers if they are permitted to weave thomselves over a life and po prevent the spirit that | should be up and doing from forcing it- self out into action and expression. One “f the saddest effects of dreams lies outside the three ordinary classifica~ tions into which dreams and the dreamer fall. It is the tendency of dreaming to work itself out in drifting. Drifting is generally an unconscious process. All “‘‘unconsclous processes’— | all processes which are not directed and | guided by the wind—are fraught with | danger. ! Drifting generally goes with the cur- rent of iife in general. It fits itself into events and circumstances, be they good or fll. It calls for no expression of will | posite direction from that which will| | power would direct the individual to go. | Now, whenever will power is ignored, the | danger slguals of a life are set. | The way to bulld strensth of character, |the way to work toward success is to Dreams that Never Reach Port : sand-hued hat. the ocollar and revers, and the tassel ap- plication of the skirt is repeated on the back of the coat and also on the under- arm, where the curved seam I8 termi- nased. High shoes of the Russian order are worn with this costume. dark blue kid, exquisitely fine In quality, the color matching the ribbons of the hikhlands, Sand color, by the way, in the color of the suit, the silk being tone or two lighter than the cloth. The gloves are of a pale saxe, indicating a compromise between the pure white walk- ing glove and the putty color which Paris has advanced for spring, but which American women have not taken up with any enthusiasm. conasideration They Are Either Ghosts Worse 8till, Jailers. this An African Beau Brummel @ | By GARRETT P, SERVISS. | e How powerfully the old Greek ndage as rendered by Pope, “the proper study of mankind is nan,” appeals to one who 100ks at the nccompanyimg photograph of an African warrior, dweiling in the | valley of the Kafue river, in the center |of the southern half of the great “‘dark {comtinent, and on the line of the pro- | poned Cape to Cairo rallroad, near the | 15th degres of south latitude | Me s one of our contemporaries on {the earth. I'rim his point of view he has jost as good & olalm to be conald- |ored “up to dute” as we have. While sharing with us the general oharacter {atios of & human being, he has a genuine bellef In the supsriority of his own kind of culture, or civillzation, which we oall | savagery | The fact that the white man has many Inventions which pussle him and make him afraid does not convince him that he ought to abandon the ways and ideas of his fathers and live like the pale- faced wearers of superfluous clothes and bearors of fire-apouting weapons. He does not admire them. They look as | ridiewlous to him with thelr trousers |and hats as he does to them with his | powerful bare legs and horn-shaped top- knot, consisting of plaited hair and bark strings stiffened with olay, polished with greonse and pointed with an antelope's | horn soraped down to a tp of almost needie snarpness. He knows that his dress and his manners, his person and his deeds, are pleasing to the bellea of his tribe. And what more could he wish? The fact ls that as we look over this world e are altogether too self-centered in our thoughts about it. We have got & decp soated prejudios In favor of our own ways and ideas. Because we can outwit and overcome the less olvillaed or savage races, and because they have manners and oustome repugnant to us, we are too apt to think that they have no right to be either what they are or where they are. We exagwerate all their bad qualities and ignore thair good ones. There are too few of us who see the other side of the medal. How many readers of these lines, iooking at the plo- ture of this African man, in the midest of his native flelds and woods, stops to think, with astonishment and shame, {that for unnumbered conturfes the self- {oalled muperior races have made Africa They are of |* hunting ground for slaves, and that oven yet alave caravans traverso Its its forests and Its rivers, carrying off its inhabitants as If they were wild animals, to be turned into beasts of burden? ‘With all its forbidding historical fea- tures, Africa is a land of fascinating romance, not less so ncw than in the days of Bruce, of Livingston and of Stanley. The - vast central plateau, stretching thousands of miles In all directions, with its ploturesque woods, broad grassy plains, tres-shaded rivers, waterfalls, rocky hills, winding paths and tralls, lakes, mountains, primitive vil- lages, strange, beautiful .and terrible animals—hipopotami, zebras, giraffs, ele- phants, buffalqes, apes, gorillas—and its curfous tribes of men, is almost like & separate world, Everything about Africa bears a stamp move steadily ahead toward some worth- thing. Make yourssif very sure of that.| ¢ originality. The cloud of mystery that while goal, come quickly enough if ome sits up dreaming of what one will do to- morrow—always “tomorrow,” the “man- ana” of lasy Oriental and southern tem- peraments. And out of these lacks grow & definite oversupply of the “lais faire’” spirit—that thing that makes peo- ple imagine that things will take care of themselves. Naturo, iu its abhorrence of a vacum, supplies another quelity to take the place of energy. It is called by some the qual- ity of being ecasy-going and amiable; others name it contentment, and still others say it ie a belief in fale, or faith in providence. Nonsense! Lack of energy is nene of these euphonious things! Lack of energy ls sheer, stupld last- ness. And lasiness may manifest iteelf in & mental Inertla that lets things take care of thomselves, or it may be an actual physical inability to turn itself to honest toll. But lack of energy works itseif out to the same end all through life. 1t presupposes, it postulates defeat. It lets the tide of Ife carry you where it happens to be golng. The current of events will not stop and divect itself out of its path for en in- dividual. It eddies along or whirls for- ward or sluggishly proceeds where the &reat scheme of things ocarries it. And the Individual who gets into an eddying whirlpool 1s sucked down to death as surely as the one who drifts into & back~ water perishes of stagnation, and the one who is swept out to an uncharted ses 1 wrecked by breakers or reefs or rammed | physically perfect. And partly Decause |go..i5; will—for will is needed to over- (DY Dassing vessels or driven dereliot M he had felt rather than known that her paby skull contained a brain upon which Le could play with all his power and imagination. i & stone pure? It is neither pure nor impure. But & normal stone is cold. So | Stilliter. Celestia’'s beauty affected not his heart and circulation, but his mind, Power and success alone touched his heart at this time. But he was Prof. wondered why, considering that she had passod almost her whole life under his Influence, she had, at what she had sup- posed was her first sight of him, showed that she disliked and distrusted him. In ffteén years he had taught her much, and prepared her for much, but then, her dream life ended for the time being, he had shown himself to her, and she had fled from him with a stranger, as it for her life. ‘Well, my beauty,” he thought, “if you must hate me, you must. But you will do as T wish without knowing it; you will speak to men as 1 dictate, and looking at men through your glorious oyes, | shall compel them to believe what you say and to do as you ocom~ mand. Whole muititudes will believe and obey." He arose from his hiding place and stepped cautiously toward her. It was|we will make of the events of cur lves, lis intention to hypnotize her and get|in the begiuning we all dream that we her away from that place quickly and quietly, so that Tommy should not have an opportunity to make further trouble. It needed no more now than & glimpes of that sphere of rock crystal which Prof. Stilliter carried always with him to reduce Celestia to that comdition of mind in which she spokc and acted upon impulse that did mot rise within her- | come obstucies, will is needed to fight | | danger and to meet privation, will s re- |quired to endure all the hardships that | rear themselves on the path to success. | What call does tse drifter ever make on his will power? He is floating around | with the tide—perhaps the tide Is siuggish | and tets him glide into a backwater whers {there is hardly any communication bc-‘ tween the movement of active and am- bitious life and the mere existence of dullness and stupld content. Perhaps the tide that carries the drifter is a wild and turbulent one—it may take him over the rapids of Alselpation and wreck him thore. It may carry him out into the un- chartered sea of wickedness and im« porality and there destroy him. Or the tide may bring him into collision with the bark of some other life. Then the Arifter is all too likely to harm and wreck and destroy the well equipped safling vessel which has no fault other than the misfortune to get into his path. Or the drifter may be whirled | by the tide aguinst some stout craft that will cripple the drifter and leave him a | derelict on the sea of life, Drifting presupposes defeat. It results| from dreams gone wrong- In the begin- ning we all kave fancies of the big things will do deeds of high emprise. Most of us start, well enough. But iIf we mevely | drean—not do—4f we permait ourselves to drift, defeat is sure to be life's portion way of ambition or to stem the tide of | laziness; lsck of s sense of direction in | the living death of rudderless impotence. When the tide, afaer a great storm, brings flotsam and jetsam up on the beach, are not the things flung on the sands by the incoming and receding waves pathetic? But {s there not a oer~ tain feeling of scorn for the wreckage of the storm mingled with pity for the help less accumulation at your feet? Now low can an individual stupidly put himself in the way of being just such flotearn and jetsam of the storm of life? | No undirected ship can make harbor except by accident. No undirected life can find itself in a safe port. Drifting carrles us over the roeks or upon unchartered And It all starts innocently enough. Dreaming is such s comforting and seemingly innocent occupation. One can hardly see where it passes the bounds of safe plecsure and leads to idle drifting. | Do you lie in bed in the morning and imeagine the clever things you will say— the remarkable way you will do your! work—the great energy and invention you | will bring to your tasks that day? And | then do you almost imagine you have done your duly by yourself and accom- plished « day's work, becauss yau hw! dreamed about it? Or do you plan ao-| tively one or two things you will do be fore met of sun, fling off the covers of | sloth and fairly whirl up to be deing? On which principle do you bulld your daye~"‘funcies that might ke or “facts that are?” | ifor us. Dresms must be coined into| Don't dream and drift. Instead think | a jand act. Choose your way in life. The | Laek of effort to hold one's welf in the|fir®t step away from the thraldom of | dreaming and drifting is to appreoiate the joy of activity There s uo happiness welf. But «though he flashed the crystal | the path of life; lack of determination to 'M & VWie (ial iy not constructing some- Aot. Do. Don't be carried anywhere bY |rests upon it has not yet been cleared the stream of life. But get out into the |away. Thousands of square miles of its ourrent of action and dfrect your bark. |territory have never been visited or seen You will fing & test in the mere joy of being a factor in deeds. And if the time ever comes When you can afford to drifl ._.,:“ wont want a There is no luxury |mysterious structures, memorials of an- in lasiness, The one luxury in life in the |clent, active pleasurs of making pour dreams)Power come true! He Shows His Oulture in the Way He Wears His Hair. : : : ! A warrior of the Kafue region, proud of his head-dress, in the far south, where almost at the tirst touch of the pick and the spade the wonders of Golconda have been eclipsed by the diamond mines of Kimberlay and the gold mines of the Transvaal It this savage, who looks so quaint to | our eyes, has a comprehensive knowledge of the past history of the continent that has bred him and his ancestors, ho might regard us with diedain as uneasy, up- start Invaders of his older world, which long ago forgot the fever of clvilization. Stubbornness. Dear Miss IMairfax: I have been keep- | partners, ing company with r\rl of mI .'r for bout half & year, } ove her dearly and She teturns my love. Now, Miss Fair: Far Too Youns. f?l.hl am disgusted with her on sooount o by & white man, Antiquity has left singular marks upon it, footsteps of al- wnd stubborn, Miss Fairfax: am or egotism. Bvery time I suggest rnwy in love with a girl two years my something she mv.r&lvu in. | tell me how I can mu out hurting her feelings? B. R L. The girl s a little selfish and spolled— too, no doubt. But par- Could you e her change with- ity But I . We differ in nal es, but T fove hor all the rame. my«m advise me to t7 and gain back her sincere love, or would you advise dif Summer Strength and Stomach Satisfaction come from eating A dish that combines all the muscle-building elements of the whole wheat grain with the wholesome, laxative juices and delicious flavor of the ¢ {most unknown conquerors, rulns of forgotten dsys of pride and Its riches are as yet unexplored, axcept choicest berry that grows. Heat the Biscuit in oven to restore crispness ; cover with strawberries or other fresh fruit; pour over them milk or cream ; sweeten to suit the taste. Your grocer sells the biscuit and the berries fferent ? ANXIOUS (8. B) I would advise you to attend to your work, whether that be studying or earn- ing your own living. You are far too young for serious thought of love. and marriage. haps you are a bit dictatorial and in- clined to fall in consideration of her tastes. Why not make a little “fifty- fifty"” agreement, whereby each will taks turns at having your own way. Talk it over with her and see it you cannot make TRY IT FOR BREAKFAST EAT IT FOR LUNCH SERVE IT FOR SUPPER