Omaha Daily Bee Newspaper, June 22, 1915, Page 9

The Most Imposing Motion Picture Serial and Stery Ever Create : : s : : : Read It Here—See It at the Movies l | The Goddes By FELLA WHEEL! WILOOX. By GARRETT P. RSERVISS. \ J i (Cidsiten " 8 % i . His sclentific name of Soutigera For. | pyright, 1915, Star Company [ cepe, which seema to mean, {n its twisted : | [Tatinity, “the shielded, or bucklersd | Pinchor.” His everyday name i the House { To build a house, with love for architect, | centipede, and that also is tarred with Ranks first and foremost in the joys of life. | Latin—and with ar And in a tiny cabin, shaped for two, fof, too, for he | |hasn't really got a The space for happin is just as great hundred feet or As in a palace. What a world were this If each soul born received a plot of ground: | : A little plot, whereon a home might rise, | i'.v‘.l. although he | has got enough of them to make any And beauteous green things grow! .:;:: n’:‘m:" ‘;"'\:‘“ h We give the dead, | [tering at once, in ) The idle vagrant dead, the Potter’s Field; {a mase of motion, Yet to the living not one inch of soil. | |like the trembling Nay, we take from them soil, and sun, and air [:fm‘v::::e: nn‘vd:-r‘ To fashion slums and hell-holes for the race formed of wire And to our poor we say, ‘‘Go starve and die springe. As beggars die: so gain your heritage.” A full-grown louse centipede, from the ends of his 11. antennae to the ends of his longest rear | | puir of legs is about five and & half - 3 |inches in length, while his breadth D L s | measured in a similar manner, is nearly Long buried in the Potter's Field, in shredded shrouds arose R They said, “Against the will of God | We have usurped the fertile sod | Now will we make it yield.” E ! Oh! but it was a gruesome sight, to see those phantoms toil | FEach to his own small garden bent: each spaded up the soil * | { 1 thought the wraiths of those i { |two inches. But, perhaps nine-tenth of the anclosed space Is nothing but air A contipede is five inches long in the | same sense that a wire fence is four feet | bigh. His legs are graduated in length | from three-quarters of an inch to two |iuches and a half. Hie thin, flat, grayish | vellow (a fighting color) body Is from an inel to an inch and & half long. There 1% & fringe of fifteen logs on each side of the body, the hind pair being twice as long as the longest of the others. These legs are furnished with spiny hairs at the joints, which make them so much the more repulsive. They move in unision with & wave-llke undulation, whish also gives you a creepy feeling. The creature's head s relatively large, and furnished (1 never knew Ghosts labored so.) Each scattered seed, and watched, till lo! The Graves were opulent | Then all among the fragrant greens, the silent, spectral train I Walked, as if breathing in the breath of plant, and flower, and grain. ‘ (I never knew Ghosts loved such things: 2 | Perchance it brought back early springs Before they thought of death.) { “The mothers’ milk for living babes; the earth for living hosts; | “ The clean flame for the un-souled dead.” (Ob, strange the word of Z::nb“p:w;.lxmu;:,'n;: :;:n:::m:.'p.;; byt i | rarely has a serfous effect om human { “If we had owned this little spot | ity In life, we need not lie and rot In houses the beast prefers bathrooms, \ Y d | but sometimes hides lehind furniture, B and when dislodged darts out with sur- = e (58 — prisiug rapidity, “often,’ says Mr. Mar- .—‘ = of the entomological bureau, “dart- ing directly at inmates of the house, particularly women, ovidently with a desire to conceal Itself beneath their dresses.” It seldom bites unless cornered, and a little ammonia removes the frrita- Intt, | l Wearing Mourning for the Dead l { | tion, except ln. TAre onases. ! In the tropies ocentipedes of another i ROT A ives:} i ” specle, but externally resembling those By DOROTHY DIX. s Gt o e e llanigile o Celestia refuses Tommy's plea to leave her new hume. ool st It is reported that the women of the forelgn nations now at war with each other have been requested by their respective governments ' not to put on mourning for the A members of their family whem they have lost-in. battlé becauso of the psychological effect that the sight of black-robed women : would have upon v the public mind. It is recognized that the spectacle of & country full | of women drossed in mourning, each proclaming by her e this adde to their depression until the ®arb :he orrors physical reaction often ends in serious and the dangers illness of mind or body. and hmt;l;ru:fl:: Nor 1s the financial aspect of the mat- sorrows vaz, ter to be ignored. To th s 3 pecsp M o gno! 0 the poor, and to and courawe in the beholder and still further add to the gloom of a situation hat is dark enough as it is. Let us hope that out of the hideous wreck and ruin that is going on in I2uropo at least this small good shall be accomplished—that the wearing 14 mourning for the dead will be forever abolished. It is & custom that is In-| lefensible from every point of view. Tt | . " is a gloomy superstition handed down from the past, by which we are hag- ridden and that is at war with modern faith and sentiment and taste and from which we should have the courage to rid Jurselves. To begin with, the wearing of mourning is elther an unnecessary formality or a whastly mockery, Those who are really bereaved by the death of some loved 'ne, for whom the breaking of some tie of affection has been the tragedy of ‘ragedies, need no black uniform to ad- { vertise their sorrow. | Their grief s written in the dullness of the eyes whose brightness has been washed away by unavalling tears, in the | lines that suifering has etched indelibly ! on thely faces, No floating crepe veil makes such an atmosphere of sorrow aboul a’ woman as does the presence of a | living sorrow in her heart. I have heard people that when a woman lost her husband it was a pro- tection to her to dress in black, but the woman who is really widowed in soul has no need to put on the livery of sor- ow to set her apart from the gay, the foolish and the flirtatious. The sanctity ' of a great grief is about her, and that — is something before which the dullest . and the stupidest and the mest brutal do reyerence. If the wearing of mourning by those : who really are heart-broken is meaning- less, how sardonic the mockery of its as- sumption by those who do not grieve, who wear & crepe vell not to hide thelr tears but their laughter. Why should | 4 woman clothe her body in mourning when 'her soul is rejoleing? How often | oneliness because you were too selfish I} we seo women dressed in crepe at the |ty jnclude him in your household? b theater, at jolly restaurant parties, at | - ! | teas and receptions, even danciug the fox | trot. | Dear Miss Fairfax: I am stenog- \ Understand me. 1 make no cult of | rabher, 16 vears of age My Smperse = conduct of his ness outside the mourning. I seé no virtue in unavailing l office and 1 am alone ll da, but for the tears. 1 perceive nothing but morbidness | salesmen who on me for various in nursing grief, and n shutting oneself away from the sunshine, and the bright- | . ness of the world, because a shadow, however dark, has come across one's L pathway. It is cowardice to sit down 5 and whine forever over & loss, no matter Now bitter it has been. But surely this is the aame of bad taste for those who have gone back to the guyeties of society to still wear the Insignje of grief upon their backs when 1 they have decked their faces out in 3 smiles of enjoyment. Simple human kindness, the obrother- nood and sisterhood of sorrow, also for- bid the wearing of mouming. There are very few people in the world so for- tunate a8 not to have lost some dear one [ | cident living, and to do this they Have put out of their minds, as soon as possible, the | thought of their bereavement. But every woman dressed in mourning ie a living remindér to each of us of our loss. She opens afresh the grave of husband, .or wife, ehild or pacent, triepd or lover. At every step of her way she is a missionary ,of sorrow, and for this reason, if for mo other, women should j0case wearing mourning. The practical aspects of the case are equally convincing. Doctors will tell you that the wearing of mourning’ is most unhyglenic, and is the cause of the ner- vous breakdown of many women. They are grief-stricken by the death of their dear one, and they visualize their loss and keep it perpetually before them in the somber garments they put on, and people in moderate clrcumstances, it is a serious matter to have to throw away an entire wardrobe and buy a new outfit of black clothes. I have known many | families plunged into debt by geing into mourning, and who struggled for years under the handicap it placed upon thew Why should we put on black to adver- |tise to a cold and careless world that one | |we loved has died? Why should we re- | mind others of their loss? Nobody wants |to do it. Bvery woman shudders at the thought of donning the funereal garb. It can do no good to those who have passed into. the great majesty of eter- nity, and who, if they can see us, must smile at our mummery. We wear mourning just hecause we |are slaves to a convention that we have |lacked the bravery to break away from. May the war give us courage to do so, and do away with the mourning garb. Advice to Lovelorn By BEATRIOE FPAIRFAX Don't Refuse. | Dear Miss Fairfax: I am a yous r and expect to be married in thres menths. | My future husband wants me to make | my home with his father, as he (s the | last one te married, and. havina no | mother his father will be absolutely | alone, but he i not dependent on his son. Do you think it is fair to me to have to %o to a home other than one fur- nished for mveelf? I love this man dearly and do not want | to give him up. Do you think I could be |happy living with his father? His father ems to think a great deal of me and is very anxious for.us to be married. M. G C Generally a young couple adjust them- selves better If they live in a home of their own. But since your father-in-law to be s 80 fond of you and is anxious to | see you married, he would probably add {his sum of happiness to your home. Be- [sides this, do you think you would be | happy if you were thinking of a kind | father who had been forced to live in | | lices. “One of these attempted to kiss me | oday, and after a struggle I freed my. { | self and absolutely refused to say another word to him, but he pleaded and begged me to forgive him and sald hé would never have done anything ungen- tiemanly, but I absolutely refused to for- Kive him. As he comes to the office quite often, 'ould {mu kindly advise me how to act toward HBRMOINE. Be cool and dignified and discuss with this man what business demands. If he shows & sincere regret for what he did and convinces you that he has the proper respect for you, you may show him a cortain guarded friendship. Make sure that you never give him the slightest encouragement that would lead to = repetition of this most unpleasant in- (Copyright, 1915, elgn Rights Reserved.) Synopsis of Previous Chapter. After the tragic deith of John Ame bury, his prostrated wife, ‘one of Amer- fca’s greatest beaitids, dies. At'her death Prof. Stilliter, an agent of the interests Kkidnaps the beautiful 3-year-old baby girl and brings her up In a paradise where she sees no man, but thinks she is taught by angels who Instruct her for her mission to reform the world. At the age of 18 she s suddenly thrust into the world where agents of the interests are ready to pretend to find her. The one to feel the loss of the little Amesbury girl most, apirited away by tue 'ommy Barclay. Fiftoen years later Tommy goes to the Adirondacks. The interests are responsi ble for the trip. By accident he is the first to meet the little Amesbury girl, comes forth from her paradise as' Celestia the girl from heaven. Neither Tommy nor interests, was Celestia recogni: each other. Tommy finds It an easy matter to rescue Celestia | from Prof, Stilliter and they hide in the mountains; later they are pursued by Stilliter and escape to an island where they spend the night That night, Stilliter, following his In- dian gulde, ‘reaches the island, found Celestla and Tommy, but did not disturb them, In the morning Tommy goes for swim, During his_absence Stilliter at- tempta to steal Celestia, who runs to Tommy for help, followed by Stilliter. The latter at once realizes Tommy's pre- dicament He takes advantage of it by king not only Celestia’s, but Tommy clothes, Stilliter reaches Four Corners with - Celestla_{ust_in time to catch an express for New York, there he places Jestia in Bellevue hospital. where her sanity i proven by the ~authorities. Tommy reaches Bellevue just before Stil- liter's departure, Tommy's first aim was to get Celestin away from Stilliter. After they leave Bellevue Tommy {s unable to get any hotel to take Celestia in owing to her costume. But Iater he persuades his ather fo keen her. When he goes out to the tax!i he finds her gone. She falls into the hands of white slavers, but escapes and goes to live with a_poor fam- ily by the name of Douglas. When their #on_Freddle returns home he finds right in his own house, Celestia, the girl for which the underworld has offered a re- ward that he hoped to get. SIXTH EPISODE. “Hold on, Freddie: [ was kiddin' Freddie returned. “You musn't kid me, It drives me orazy. I shouldn’t wonder if T could find her for (his lips trembled at their own audacity) fifty.” Bweetzer's face did not even show sur- prise “You take me to where she s, he said, “and I'll go you the fifty.” A aull spot on Freddis's brain tried to make him say, “all right, come alon; but & bright spot suddenly intervened and make him say, instead: “Alright, T'll find her wure. “If you'd asked me that first I could have told you. But now I have forgotten. But It'll all come back Next Freddie went to Mrs. kome, A taxicab was drawn up at the curb and the front door was ajar. Freddie simply walked into the house. There were volces in the front parior. Freddie simply stepped to the heavy portieres, perved the front parior as a door, stood lstening. “So help me God, I have told the truth!” Mrs, Baxter wus saying, and Freddle judged she was crying. “So0 help me Gawd-—Mister—Mister— what did you say your name was?’ “Barclay.” Mr. Barclay “You see,” sald Tommy, "I got bold of the cab that you brought her here in. That's how I found that she was with you. T don't know if women ilke you ever tell the truth, but I am inclined to be- lieve you this time, Mrs. Baxter. Now, where in thunder can that poor child have strayed to?’ “Mr, Barclay, I wouldn't worry if I was you. She came to no harm with me, and I'm as bad as they make “ens.” ®you don't know men to me.” and exciaimed Tommy, bitterly after she had been | as she | i Baxter's which | ' by the Star Co. All For- | | | | | “l don't know what?’ What 1 know about men that you don't Know, Mr. Barclay, would fill the latest encyclopedin from cover to cover. Me not knuw men! 1 like that “Look here,” sald Tommy. ““I belleve you do know men and fots of other things. What would you do in my place?” “1'a offer bilg money for news of her. Mon cts quicker than lLightning." “Wh: sald Tommy, “I'd give $1,000 just to know that she was safe.” Freddie, the ferret, stepped into the from between the prtieres. he sald, with fine dramatic room “She's safe!” instinc “Safe!” You've seen her? man?" “He's called Freddie the Ferret,” Mrs. Baxter, “because he often finds things that other people can't. But, shc lowered voice a little, “he ain't to be |always relled on; he's sort of half-wit- ted. But Freddie's bright spota were all on qul vive for once. “Y seen her,” he sald; “a terrible man was just goin' to baste her over the head “Where is she? is the young orled Tommy. Who with a table leg, but she give him one look, and he beat It." ‘“Where is she?’ Freddie shook his head. “‘S8he was safo when I last seen her," he sald, “but 1 don't know where she is, and 1'd have to hunt fer herr Didn't you say you'd give something just to kuw she was safe?’ .y sald Tommy, “but J donm't know she's safe. You find her and take me to her and you dl all have a thousand, “You'll get twenty-five from me," claimed Mrs. Baxter, “poor as I am.” A Dbright spot in Freddie's brain made the following calculation: $50 plus $1,000 plus $25 equals §1,07, and more, too." A dull spot was for saying: | “Come along. I know where she is." But, as before, a bright spot intervened. “Where can I find her, quick?' sald Freddie. Tommy gave him his card. “All right,” sald Freddies, “‘you'l hear from me soon,” and he swung impor- tantly out of the room, He had a new proposition now. How to take Bweetzer, Mrs. Baxter and Mr. Barolay all to Celestia at the same time, #0 that he could get all the money. This new proposition required very patient thinking, and he walked on and on with- | centipedes out considering In the least where he was |Years in the length of nearly a foot, and thelr bites are venomous and dangerous. Thero is & story of a battle with one of these tropical in Lafcadla Hearn's “Two French West Indles, going. After a long time he sank down |Wwhich is calculated to “raise the hair on '@ bench in Central park and took a |of the sensitive reader. nap. Sometime he dreamed of solutions | — s to difficult problems. But he didn't this ¥ time. He was waked by a hand on his shoulder, “Why, Freddie, what are you doin’' doin', O'Gorman?"’ things most of “Me, I'm looking for a beautiful young lady in a white dress, with a band of Jewels across her forehead.' Freddie laughed aloud. “Another!” he exclaimed. “What do | you get If you find her?" “I get & good bit, Freddie, and any one that finds her for me and tells me first gots haMt of it.” “I can find her,” sald Freddle. You've done queer things Well, you do, it's a mo. You take me to her and we'll shy and share allke” In-Shoots People who take pride In saying just sald Freddie, what are you |What they think generally think mean the time, ‘There is -onnu\lu wrong with the life program of the individual who cannot smile before noon. The man who falls to Jand on the re- form wagon when out of politics is apt to be near his earthly finish. When a woman who has married the man to reform him completes the job 1t | he is usually an uninteresting subject. Tt 1a better to g0 It blind than to wait forever to be sure that you are right (To Be Continued Tomorrow.) before going ahead. A Dime Will Do It Ten cents will purchase a delicious, satisfying meal equal in nutritive value to a two-dollar repast that is made up of foods that tickle the palate without building muscle, bone or brain. Two or three Shredded Wheat Biscuits with sliced bananas or ripe, luscious berries, served with milk or cream, will supply all the s a cost of not over ten cents. Shredded Whea S v trength-giving nutriment needed for a half day’s work at is the Nation’s food—a real staff of life for the toiler with hand or brain. These crisp and tasty little loaves contain all the body-build- ing material which Nature has stored in the whole wheat grain. Try them for breakfast with milk or cream; serve them for supper with berries or other fruits. Ask your grocer. Made oaly by The Shredded Wheat Company Niagara Falls, N. Y.