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—— THE BEE: OMAHA, WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 4, 1915, A Rainy Night By E Copyright, 1915, LA WHEELER WILCOX. Star Company. When the fingers of rain on the window pane Tap, tap, tap, And the feet of the rain ru n over the roof In the dark of a Summer night, Then out of their graves old memories creep And they steal up into the house of sleep And they rap, rap, rap On the door of the heart til And opens the portal and s For the walting horde. Then the great, wide world With the ghostly shapes of A Pleasure that perished, a 1 it sets a light preads the board seems all astir the things that were. dead Despalr, An old Delight and a vanished Care, A Passion that builded its funeral pyre From the worthless timber of brief desire, A hope that wandered and lost its way In the dazzling beams of its own bright ray, With long-gone Worries and long-lost Joys, Come stealthily creeping wi th never a noise (For the things that have gone on the road to God When they turn back earth And they enter the hearts’ When the rain beats down In the dark of a Summer n And they tell old tales and ward are silence-shod); great living room from a sky of gloom ight. they sing old songs That are sweet, sweet, sweet; ‘While the fingers of rain on the window pane Beat, beat, beat. And they feast on the past And call it a brew divine. and drink its wine But when in the east the darkness pales And the edge of the cloud shows light, The ghosts go back with a silent tread, And only the heart knows what they said In the dark.of the Summer night. Dogs Buried in C Graves; Babies Suffer By DOROTHY DIX. A rich woman has given $3,500 to estab- ligh @ dog cemetery on Long Island, and the opening of this aristocratic burying ground for pampered Fidos is to be ac- omplished with much ceremony, with a dog stand- ing @t the gate to recets the - first canjee funeral that takes place. . What do you think of that? Isn't it enough to make even a dog howl with dist- gusted protest? What sort of a heart can a wo- man have who sives $3,500 to build a mausoleum for dogs, when there are tens of thou- sands of starving babies at her very door? What kind of a queer, distorted phil- anthropy can prompt such a gift that puts the welfare of a dead animal above that of a live human being? Thirty-five hundred dollars is a large sum. With it one can do much to al- leviate the sufferings of the world. With it one can save many lives and bring bappiness into many homes. With it one can change the whole course of exist- ence for dozens of people and lift them out of the slough of misfortune up on The best and surest way to save money I8 to buy a dlamond or a watch on credif at | LOFTS BROS. & CO. 869 — Ladies Ring ik solid gold Loftis “Per- fection” mount in= brilllant Diamond, at. 85 a Month 828—Ladies’ Wateh, O size, Hunt- ing case, fin- est quality gold filled, assorted en- ETavin g polished fin- =, “guaran- teed 25 yre. fitted with genuine El- Ein or Wi tham move- ment. 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SOLLICI nod—h-l.:..i. -‘b;-'m THE NATIONAL Hundreds of Infants Could Be Saved with Money Which is to be Spent on Cemetery— Queer Sort of Phil- anthropy. ostly to the broad highway, where they can make their own' way toward success. | The hot summer is upon us in which the bables of the slums sicken and die, mainly because they are undernourished and their poor mothers have not the means to buy good milk for them or the ice with which to keep what they do buy fresh and sweet. Hundreds of these babi will perish within the noxt three months who could be saved if the $3,600 that is going into this cemetery for dead dogs was spent on establishing piire milk stattons where good milk would be given away to the needy. . Go down any of the streets of the Bast Side on a hot, sweltering day and look at the white, pinched faces of the little children whose only playground is the blistering sidewalk and whose every {breath draws in the malodorous, contami- nating air that reeks of garbage cans and decaying fruits and vegetables and all the evil smells that abound where human beings live oo closely crowded together, | If the spot, amid the trees and grasses jof Long Island and swept by its sea winde that is to be set apart as sacred to the carcasses of dead dogs were turned into a playground for these poor living children, what a blessing it would be to them! How the fresh air would bring How the flabby muscles would strengthen as they romped among the daisies.. How the ozone of the country air would put to rout the demon of tuberculosis already be- gining to hover about the doomed little creature, Thirty-five hundred dollars would give many a child a week or two in the coun- try that would mean life and health to it. Surely an object is worth while as preserving the bones of a deceased | | | {of little children going up from & beauty |spot of nature are as pleasing to heaven as the wails and lamentations of a | neurotic woman weeping over the tomb {of her dead pug. Thirty-five hundred dollars would es- tablish a summer camp where poor work- | ing girls who have come to the last ounce (of their endurance could have a few weeks' rest and gather themselves to- | gether again and get fresh strensth and |courage to begin the battle of life once more. It would make a place where over- worked motuers with their lttle sickly | babes could go for a little whilo and be #iven a new lease onm life. It would buy an entrauce into a home for meny a for- lorn old woman where she would be safe | from the winds of winter and the suns of summer and be able to end her days |In peace and comfort. | Go along the streets and notice the children suffering from physical afflic- tions that will be an insurmountable handicap In life to them, but that you know could be easily cured by proper {medical attention. With $3,500 you could |send this child and its hacking cough to {some sanitarium where fresh air and rich | food would save it from consumption. | You could strighten the little cripple's |leg; you could save that child’s eyes; this other one from deafness; this oth- er's back could be'made well, and those who will go through life halt, and lame, and blind, could be made well and given | their chance in life, | So much could be done for humanity |with $3,500, and yet it is given to dead | doga! T would not decry kindness to animals. That is a duty, all the more imperative {since they are in our power, but surely |this ends when they die, and to spend large sums In giving them gorgeous funerals aud laying them away in beau- |tiful cemeteries, when there is so muoh want among human beings in the world, {18 lttle short of & crime. Surely there is something wrong with the heart, and the brain, and the con- {sclence of 3 woman who thinks that dead |dogs are of more value than live bebies and who gives her money to bulld a monument to her pet poodle instead of using it to alleviate the sorrows of her unfortunate fellow creatures. back the color to the pale little cheeks! | Pomeranian. Certainly the shouts of joy | | Read It Here—See It at the By Gouverneur Morris and Charles W. Goddard Oopyright, 1918, Star Company. | | Synopsis of Pevious Chapters. After the tragic death of John Aides: bury, his prosiiated wife, Ole Of Amer ‘lea's greatest beaulles, dies. AL her death Frol. Buaiier, an sgeul of the ioterests | kidnips the beautiful 3-year-old buby {8ll und brings her up in | Where she secs no mai, but thiuks sne 18 LAugLL by ungeis whu instruct ber for ber uussion Lo iefuiis the worid, At Lhe uge of 13 sne :s suddeniy thiust into U Worid where akculs of tne lntercsts Tea 0 pretend Lo tind her. Fifteen years lator Tumauy goes to the Adiroudacks. The Inicicels @ie Iespousl- Die for the trip. By scident he 18 the st |0 meet the ilitde Amesbuiy girl us she | comies fortn trom her puiuwdise us Celestia the klil from heaven. Neitoer Loy nu | ! Celebtia TecoRniges each OLher. Loy £inds AL a0 casy wuatler (0 ruscue Celosiu from Prof, Stluiter and they hive in the mouniaius; laler tney are bursued by Stilliter wud escape 10 an island whers they spend the night. > Tonuuy s first uln was to get Celes away fiom Stiliter. After they leave Bellevue Tommy is unabie to get suy hotel to take Celestia in owing to kher costume. But leter he persuades his to keep her. When he goes out | finds her gone. Soe fwlis to tue taxl b |into” the hands of white slavers, but wscapes and xoes to live with & poor fam- lly by the name of Douklas. When theu son Freddte returns home he finds rignt in his own house, Celestia, the girl for which the underworld has offer & re- wurd that he hoped to got. Celestia secures work in a large gar- ment factory, Whers a great many giris are employed. Here she shows her pe- cullar power, and makes frends with all rl companions. By her talks tp the he is to calm a threstoned nd the “"boss’”’ overhearing her is moved to grant the reilef the giris Wished, and also to right & great wrong he bad done one of them. Just at tils point the factory caiches on fire, and the work | room blazing furnace. Celestia refuses to escape with the other g.rls, and Tommy Barolay rushes in and car- ries nher out, wrapped in & big roll of «ioth. After resculng Celestia from the fire, Tommy is sought by Hanker Barciay, who undertakes Lo persuade him to give up the girl. Tommy refuses, und Celeviia wants bim to wed Ler Jdirectly. lle can not do this, s he has no funda. Htilliter {and Barclay introduce Celestia to a co- | terle of wealthy mining men, who agree Celestia to the colliirics. The wife of the miners' leacer involves { Tommy an escapude that leads the miners to lynch him. Colestia saves him from the mob, but turns from him and g0es to see Kehr. | TWELFTH EPISODE, Other trains were making whirlwind tours of these United States. Not every capitalist was on the side of capital. A badly frightened and very able man in the White House was fighting for his political Nfe. Into the arena there came at last o Aribbling of genuine patriots, who, like their forefathers, were ready to give for their country their lives, their sacred honor It wasn't all smooth safling by any means. Still, no new movement had ever | made such progress in so short a time, and the end was not in sight, nor the | beginning of the end. A man gaining in strength from day to day, among those who stood for the old order of things, and opposed Celestia was Tommy Barclay. He had a great fervid quality of honesty which no one could doubt, and he had to look on his face, very lean now trom short nights hard work and the constant buffetings of trains, of a young hero who has set \hlnuel{ to do to death a dragor that s | ravaging country-side, With experi- |ence and practice had come quick initia lll\. in cmergencies, case and the better ! Mary and Tommy Sit Down to o paradise | dd¢e Serval and \ Dctrere control of a naturally fine and far-carry- ing voice. His triumphs were many. His down- fall eame when he crossed Celestin's path too closely. If she was speaking chance in the same town at the same time, he would have no more of an audi- ence than he could have counted on the fingers of his hands. If he followed her too closely he spoke to deaf and unsym- pathetic ears. *“The crime of the ages,” sald one rough miner, who was sufforing from too much heart, too much whisky and too little mind, “you great big, whistlin’, thunder- |In' boot, did you ever set eyes on the lady?™ And Tommy, to his horror, had fafled [where in his head, and had stammered and begome tongue-tied, and been bored, and had done harm to a cause, which, o fanatical had he become, at this time, seemed to mean life and death to him. crushed the love of Celestia out of his heart. Once, in a little northern town, stand- ing on an Improvised rostrum of pack- ing cases, and in the midst of addressing a large crowd of qulet, sensible people. who appeared to like him, and to like what he sald, it was Tommy's bad for- tune to have Celestia arrive from h snow-white car and steal his audience from him. His “sea of upturned became a pool, with more than half the faces turned away to try and see what all the excitement was about further down the street, and everyhody getting more and more restless and In attentive. A suldden tremendous cheering took the rest of Tommy’'s audience away from him on the run, with the exception of one young woman, who wore a thick, brown veil and was half concealed by th stem of an elm. For a moment or two Tommy did not see her. His eyes were on the backs and audience, and there was a smile on his face, half rueful resignation and half amusement until she called attention to herself by #peaking. “Don't stop,”" she said; “they all gone. It isn't fair to me. I've o & long way to hear you." With an exclamation Tommy leaped down from and ran to greet her Blackstone,” he exclaimed, “‘what the dickens are you doing way down here “I told you I came to hear you speak You are getting to be rather famous, you know, and I thought it was my duty (her eyes sparkled under the vei) (o hear you at least once.” “Well,” sald Tommy, smiling back, “you missed all the good parts. Some thing tells me that 1 was going to finish very strong, and then the diversion came. and only you stood your ground. Shall I get back on that soap box and give you my peroration. Or shall we see if we can get near to Celestla to hear her?* Celestia’'s name fell from his lips with the utmost goolness and nonchalence, o that Mary Blackstone's heart gave a sudden bound of joy, and the hatred which she had for the girl from heaven abated somewhat “If you don't mind,” she said, “we'll not try (o get nearer to Celestia than we are now. Indeed, I'd rather walk in the opposite direction, ‘becavse 1 see some- |thing that rather losks like a park, and |that would 1nean a bench to st on. Even lyour tmpassioned oratory couldn’t make of pleasure his rostrum “Why, Mary lave a Quiet Talk About Celestia \ by away place, Mary?" | | to find any answer to that question any- | 4¥ing of curlosity.” | | In exalted moments he felt that he had | o8ity; | \ twinkling legs of his fast disappearing | He did not notice the woman | | haven't ovr | ¥y Virginia Terhune Van De Water, | o~ (Copyright, 1815, by A number of us wer ter of which much b Star Company.) | discussing a mat- ( « already been sald namely, kecping one's word to children. | “Of course,’ sald one woman, ‘“one| should try to fultill a promise under all circumstances—but especially to a | enna. It 1s not easy to Jo so always.'' ob- jected another woman. What about promises of punishment?* I recalled something a certain grand- | mother used to say to her shildren about their little ones. “He very careful,” she counseled, “‘about making a threat--but | when you have made one stick to it." | | T quoted this bit of advice now:| “There,” #ald a wise father, “you have | the secret. Think twice before you speak { once, but when you have decided that | you are right in promising a reward or | & punishment. let nothing prevent your fulfilling that promise | | “Don't circumstances altar cases® a | mother asked timidly 1t you tell af | child you will chastise him |f he trans- | gresses a certain law, of yours, should | you carry out the threat even if the child comes to you and confesses tha: he has| disobeyed " | Advice to Lovelorn Don't Look | _Dear Miss Fairfax for Trouble, T am 20 years old, lered beautiful and an artist's The artist for whom I am at| present posing is constantly making love | 1 Now, Miss Fairfax, this man | uvestionable reputation and I am sure his intentions ure not honest. | I have no parents or friends who could help me with money until 1 secure un- other position and do not know of any other means of making a lving, Please advise me what to do—shall 1 {leave the poaition, hough 1 have no| money gaved, or shall T endure this man until T find another position? Your advice in this will be highly ap- procinted ELLEN. Your position s very difficult, and I | |ndvise you to look about for other em.- | ! ployment at once, but in the meantime | your own common sense and dignity will | L think, protect you. Could you discus | the matter simply and honestly with your | omployer and muke him realize just how | difficult your position is and how much it means to you to have your relations ! purely business? | Non Dear Miss Fairfax: Am a homeless girl of 22 1 care for a young man of %, and 1 think he cares for me, I was about to become engaged to him, when 1 found that he doesn't care much sbout work. T told him what 1 heard, and he sald that | he will“try to work, but not so soon | Now, Miss Fairfax, it would break my to lose this yo man, DOWNHEARTED, It won't break your heart to give up your fiance If he is too lazy and shift- ) less to work. But it will break your he: to marry such a man and live a life of hardship and drudgery to which his #elfish laziness would bring you. me forget that I had to stand for a long time to get the benefit of it." They walked toward the little eity park. “What are you really doing In this far “I missed you at Lynnsburg and Ples Crossing, and succeeded in connecting with you here." “You didn’t really do all that traveling your happiness and the future of the Just to hear me talk through my hat, did chjidren you might bring into the world you?* by marrying an idler. “No, T didn't, really; and you didn't —_— talk through your hat. I came as & That Ix Not Love. matter of fact to tell you something 1 think you ought to know." They reaghed the little bench and sat dow: “I'm all ears,” sald Tommy, “and I'm Dear Miss Falrfax: 1 am 21 and have ping company with a young man 3 At times I like him, ‘and at t 1 do not want him at all. . do you think that this is real o think that 1 wet tired of a person v quickly and wouid ke to be w'th a'f| ent ones. . What you feel i fascination. Real love park, chose a | “I think you ought to know," sald nd Child | | we |am Un- | less he goes to work at once, dom't risk | How Ideas Differ on Punishment You would find it out anvhow,” the man laughed Perhaps, but you might not,” she in- sisted, “and even If you wouid find 't out anyhow, does It not encourags a child to bo deceitful If voi raake him pay the penalty of & fault he contosses Her question reminded me of an oe¢- currence about which I have often thought. It was not a hypothetical In- stance, but something that really hap- pened to a child T once knew I re Iated the circumstances now to this group of friends. In a fow lows words the case was as fol- A small boy, aged 11, was In the habit of playing ball on the lawn in front of and close to his father's house. While indulging In this sport at ditferent times he broke three panes of glass In various windows. At first his tather roprimanded him gravely, but gently. After tho third accident he had a serfous talk with his son ‘See herm John, he said, “I know that you and your friends like to pl ball on the lawn, and T do not object to your doing so as long as no mischief results. But I cannot have you breal- ing any more windows. You must re- member that. If you cannot have venr game here without doing damage you must go elsewhere to play.’ “All right, father,” the .boy agreed. “But If we don't break windows, may play here® ‘Yea,” the parent replied, “you may, but you must not come so close to the house as to smash anything. And, John, if you do break another window I shall punish you. Understand “Yes, father, I understand.” “Remember, T mean what T emy. T have tried everything else to make you careful. You know I shall carry out my threat.” “Yes father." “Very well: that setties it.* Two weeks passed and all went well The boys confined their games to that part of the lawn that was at a distance from the house. Then, when they had become over-secure in their immunity trom accidents, they came nearer the house, and in batting a ball John drove it stralght through a cellar window While the boys were watching him he tried to act as If he did not care. But when his playmates had gone away, and ! his father had come home from busineas, John went straight to him where he sat in the library. “Father,” he pald, windo The father set his jaw resolutely. sorry, son. You know what I prom- ised.” “Yes, sir. T am ready.” And the father gave him a whipping. { He sald afterward that he ‘would have | proved himself a Har had he not done #o. He also sald that It was the hardest task he had ever had to perform, As 1 finlshed my recital there arose a chorus of exclamations. ““He was a brute!” declared one mother. Another sald, “He should never have made such a threat."” One man made himself heard above the others. ““That last statement is be- side the question,” he remarked, ““‘Even if the father should not have made the threat, it was made. This being the case as a man of his word he was compelled to thrash the kid. It w his manifest duty.” Of course, there were some who ugreed with him. Bul there were as many dis- senting volces. I wish I knew what the average parent would say about this matter. Leaving out the much-disputed and never-settled question as to whether a child should or should not receive cor- poral punishment, could this man, after | having once pledged himself to a certain “I broke another :Mary. nm{ l'r:l rather frightened at the| ., un underlying basis of sympathy and hought of telling you." understanding that keeps it from shilly. Much jmore of this" sald T“"‘mylnhnhylnu around between like and re- Jocosely, “and 'l Rot be dying of curl- | 10, As long as you are fickle and pxty 'ml.l e dead.” Then gravely, “I8 | jice the diversion of the society of dif- | ferent boys, don't consider any of them serfously. (To He Continued Tomorrow.) “You just rest—and keep on with Sanatogen” EST is l—with its oppor- tunity to recuperate,to replenish the systems vitality, Yet very often rest alone is not enough, For summer, when the nervous forces are at low ebb after the long winter struggzle, calls for such largely in- creased expenditures of nerve force that the system must have even more help to resist the enervating inroads of hot weather, And this is the help that Sanatogen gives, Bringing to the starved cells and tissues just hxdomluhtyhunger for, it revives and reinvigorates them, recalls appetite and easier digestion and deeper slumbers and stores up have in hot weather, wea who live the cl.inates, It ean he few months of hot weather here ! Sanatogen is s0ld by good drugis everywhere in t! ree siges, from §1.00 v year ‘round in b Armeld Be the L The fertul, ibert Parker, M.P., nmett, fect ol basaioges on me l8 simply ~ray.and £ o ed Loy aad wiiade | course, honorably avold it? (Be sure to read these stories. They | are of interest to every father and 1 mother.,) the resistive forces the system must It is & significant fact that physiclans in trovical lands, India, for example, unltein endorsing Sanatogen, And docs it not seew that if Sanatogen can help » you during the SANATOGEN NDORSED ‘BY OVER Sors Jor Elbert Hubbard’s filled with his shrewd philosophy together with capital advice on Sanatogen, health and contentment, It is free. Tear this off as a reminder to address Trg BAusr CuemicaLCo.,27-9 Irving Pl,, New York 21,000 PHYSICIANS new book—""Health in the Making.” Written in his attractive manner