The Seattle Star Newspaper, June 25, 1921, Page 11

BY ALLMAN WELL, ALIMONY IS EASIER TO | GET ALONG WITH THAN A HUSBAND- 1T COMES IN REGULARLY AND DOESNT SMOKE OR SWEAR AND _, NEVER GIVES YOU AN ARGUMENT! ; One of Life’s Little Jokes OH MY! | GoT IT THREE MONTHS AGO!, MISS MURRY IF You PLEASE! HAVEN'T You WEARD THAT I've BEEN DEVORCED? You DOM'T TeLL ME? WELL, HOW Dots IT SEEM To BE SINGLE wy no! How Lonc? ay 4 bthing Deceiving About Our Mount Rainier, Writes Resident. Then Why Change It to Deception? ow u Ae Dear Miss Grey: I am writing this in response to the a Ly jer, — | What is the matter with the people, anyway? We might at , keep the old name out of respect for our pioneers. We lected their graves and now wish to rob them of their tain’s name, tne, Mount Rainier has been known as “Rainier, the to say “Deception, the Mountain That Was God.” tain, It is beautiful, either from a distance or at close nge. Rainier is a name to lure and entice tourists, but who Ou were a tourist in the East and Seattle was known as lisery” or “Poverty” would you want to go there? Cer- tainly not. @f Mount Rainier, why not just as YLehange the names of Seattle, i ma, Olympia, Washington and Pmovement that is on foot to change the name of Mount pI We neglected the founders of the state enough already; } ‘Mountain That Was God.” Now it will sound nice, won't it, ‘ There certainly is nothing very deceiving about the moun- swould want to go to a place with the name for deceiving? If If you intend to change the aes the United States? It would fust as sensible. Change Wash- ton, D. C, to “Gamble,” for it Id fit ft Just as well. #What is good for the goose ts good | Br the gander, you know, Kindly » ber, tho, that the residents of | Northwest should have some | ing to say about it If the| her mother, her grandmother, and so of the mountain just must be | on, back to the cave woman. wed, why deny Tacoma its plea! | see myself in you, “Twenty.Six,” change it to Mount Tacoma? Cer | .n¢ though you may have stock ee een amore si [of faith, hope, honor, honesty, jus Senay han *"Dec meg Ut | tice, dilligence and the Uke, you will jen the residents of Tacoma) need to be expert in self-knowledge, ed the mountain overlooking | sei¢control and selfsurrender to ir city to bear that name. you | nicher good, or éertain native plants poised an awful roar and howled |in your garden will absorb enough * ives hoarse to keep it Rainier of your mental strength to starve if you're so stuck on changing the your dees crop ah pended. te.Niest why not vote on it? Then |i" tong the u'll know what the people want. | bh Consider the money, too, that must| The hay, persistent dock of 4 ny be spent in having post- Selfishness is the first of these ¥s | weeds, It has many forma vanity cies cs. chomaes. nage being one of them, A little vanity Wake up; use your brains. Just| May be & good thing, a lightener of cause you brand yourselves the | life's load to its possessor and « fount Deception society” is no rea-|C&Use of merriment to others, but that you should be the whole | sive It Its way and tt very soon be see, or that you are. The G, A./comes a nuisance ‘This dock in all Mefterans and our present war vet-|!t* forms, always flourished in my rans ought to have more to say | Srden, Cultivated for many years, it than you, because they went tolerated for as mahy more, now that ut_to fight for this country, instead |1 would eradicate it, 1 find it im- =< sitting around and squabbling | Possible. Ger changing the perfectly good! Another weed that causes more of a perfectly good mountain. | trouble than even selfishness, be- KAYO, | cause it exhausts the mental sof] so | quickly, is the thistle of impatience, springing up spontaneously, growing vigorously and overrunning ail bounds. As with selfishness, one may clear a fittle spot of its apparent presence, oly to find it coming up elsewhere. After a time it appears ‘ethe garden of the heart.” It is/again In your cleared place, as its remnant phrase. If a “tree is, seeds Ne érep in the soll, only await. *swn by its fruit.” so is a garden. |ing a chance to germinate Accom Feave been wondering if “Twenty. |panying this weed is a species of * and all of his respondenta, old | touch-mé+not which has Ntter seeds, 4, young, fair and unfair, wise and like @ cherished resentment, and “therwise, might not profit by some | spits them forth violently when an cnowledge concerning it. We learn | cccasien arises, Kette by little, even while the world| Weall see the fautts of others very f the senses dominates us, that we | esily and very accurately. There is ‘ire also in contact with another, an/in the heart garden @ wild cress world. We are apt to over.! which affords « tingling delight in Mookithis inner world because of its keesing human weakness tn mind. intimacy, for it Ix “closer than; Ths Is its first effect and many a treathing, nearer than hands |latgh it affords at your fellow's ex. feet.” pmse. But its after effect is a feel. I say may sound something | ise of bitterness and pessimism—a ‘a Locksicy Hall “Sixty Years coll of the mind upon itself and a ” If so, all right. “Twenty-Six” |feadening of every generous im be told a few things, even tho |pulsa To make matters still worse, fail to penetrate his dense, the nettle of an ugly tongue grows He, in common with other| with the cress as touchme-not ac- men, is apt to conceive bim |companies impatience. This nettle be a lord of creation an! /|stimulates reckless speaking which to be reckoned with. Ths/|is so prone to run into vulgarity. Wine idea makes @ large pat | This miserable weed came near ruin trouble in this world. Wth|ing me utterly at one time and its conception burning within, men |eradication required an acid treat and fret their hour upon the| ment which has robbed my mental of life, only to find tater that | soil of some of its productiveness, have been merely the instru Bisse in our heart culture, we ts in carrying out a great plan. | follow too much the negative method ‘alr-sac of self-importance beffig |of judging and appealing to ‘thou shalt not.” This is not moral, not constructive, Inhibition ix neces. sary, but it only clears the way for moral action. Improvement and suc- cess can come only by having the mind, fully charged with something |new, expanding, positive, The moral jattitude is expressed In the com a = thank you eee prventy-Siz Ans - Mr. Twenty-Si. y Dear Miss Grey: Several weeks I noticed that, in answer to a ubled woman patient, you spoke ou to ly N society, all advancemest must founded on the stubility of the feminine. Motherhcod is al- the same; tt changes its “suits trappings” only, according to | EVERETT TRUE FtaseH cicuT! Gio % 1 Me SGE= HAMMER, SAV CHISEL, PLANER, SQUARE, MALLET AN’ ny \) YES» AND WERE ADE “TWo KEYS, ONE FoR You AND ONE FoR “EXCELLENT BATHING, BOATING, AMD FISHING Bt A WELL STOCKED RAKE” ~ ree HAVG A LOOK AT THIS GUIDE PosT 4AVO sce age and environmeat. When sended-—comes along, “ individual ~ | would have them do unto y fall for her, just as his ancestors . Once down, whatever else tehip and marriage may be, they ‘#2 ideal conditions for the pro- “Sof the best there ts in hu ‘Squre; also for weeds. Twest need is to be freed from Disjor of the senses and to seek Sat the good, the true, the Jejpl; becaase only the ideal is Fee and everlasting. Let him fa om gazing at his sweetheart P5k upon her mother. This may ‘re him. Then let him turn to ~ undmother. This may shock but be must learn to see her ther and grandmother, and so on, h his sweetheart. Here he will have , r *98 model and the '75 model in|brother “Twenty-Six, the 71, Clothes and society customs can- t ri from being lkelone who ts SEVENTY SIX. STAM Git Prevent a st far- ~ a 43 » in| a s id 5 Ji 585 E UPHILL ROAD” | |mands: “Do unto others as you 3 “love thy nefghbor as thyself.” This con- | stitutes an appeal to the best that Is in each person with whom we come in contact. Lowell sings, in efect: “Act nobly, And the nobility that ts brother Will rise to meet thee.” in thy | ‘The Great Teacher meant the same ltning when He said, “Seek first the |kingdom of God, ete.” Thin Is to seek true uccemm, which we all feel after, but largely miss, because we use a negative method. However, there is ways a chance |for improvement spiritually, light, high-heeled, tripping steps. He turned giddily—the smart maid was at his elbow. She looked terrified— her eyes were wide saucers in her pert face; she wore a hat and coat. “Oh, sir! Oh, sir!” she gasped. and) she could say no more, She stared | with many/at Ferrier with frozen fear; she others, may profit by the words of|haq looked in at the disordered room and seen Major. Ferrier pulled himself together | with a mighty effort. “Get me some water,” hoarsely. “Quick! I'm not hurt you—get me some water.” | She rushed away and came back (Copyright, Hodder & Stoughton) By RUBY M.A YRES cinerea | in a moment with a bowl of water. |Ferrier was leaning against the (Continued From Page 6) 6 a douche of cold water; he drew . = reat breath; the whirling wheel BS head seemed to slow down. | turned slowly, there wore steps Faiside—someons was crossing the f nd a man entered ing a bar he was still in full he smoked a cigar. W lowering ypped with a horrid gasp of fear res Ip aw Ferrier's “it was Major! laki For an instant the two men faced | ‘Then Major ch other. . s oi on nig hip pocket ad covered the Pe riven, ) win & Beenaly ee 67 steel, re was “ie no weed for BT away toward the door; Gaemile that had for a fleeting second | quivered on his pale lips flickered | ™ Indand died out; he knew that it was|momentarily been stilled by passion nd longer possible to bluff. He backed, keeping bis eyes fixed |sick feeling was creeping thru him rier, one hand groped toward |again with overwhelming power. He In a flash distance Me selzed the groping hand |nffast get out of the house—away— he twisted Mt anywhere! words, hall. In a second the door opened he was hur. of song under his ening en he form he backed the watery Ferrier between dragging Wt forward no word spoken, there | open Silently | luev struggled. ‘The passion that doorway. He looked ghastly. She | bathed his face with a cloth she had brought; she fetched more water in a tumbler, and made him drink it. After a few moments he asked her a question— “The others—where are they?™ She hesitated, then— “They've gone, sir; they went in the motor car, I was to follow.” “And Joan—Miss Hastings?” he | asked hoarsely. The smart maid shook her head— “si gone, too, air.” Ferrier laughed mirthlessty. He looked at the maid’s scared face. “You think I've been a fool—eh?” He went back into the house and walked Into the disordred room | Major had dragged himself up to an jarm chair—he looked a pitiable ob- |Ject. He cowered away when he saw Ferrler, cursing him under his breath; he was afraid to move. Ferrier stood looking down him. “I fancy I've spoilt your beauty for a long time to come,” he sid exultattly. Major looked like a wild beast momentarily cowed by his master’s eye, but only waiting for # chance to spring. Ferrier had kept suppressed, con |troliea for #0 long, was let loose }like an infuriated beast. | There was madness in his face as he rained blows on the other's cow- ering form, The immaculate even- ing clothes were torn and reduced to rags; the handsome, devil-may. care face bleeding and swollen; but still Ferrier went on. He was like a tiger who has once tasted blood— he did not stop till he was thoroly exhausted. Then he flung the limp, howling thing from him, and rose to his feet. | Ferrier glared down at the hud | dled mmass that had been a man so ‘short a time ago and laughed sav. gely. The whirling wheel that had |had begun again in his head, the old at set his teeth disfigured He stepped past the bundle to the door-—he He tumbled |latch of the front door—he got it the morning sunlight dazaled him, the dancing sea made him reel. There were steps behind him— with the ye waid) ving to) ! 4 Diy YANEVER RAINS BUT [T POURSY Yy CAUGHT ON A_ STRANGE Vy ROAD AND ORGOT MY Y Y AM. LUCKY A matcHs ¢ “If you've anything to may,” Fer- rier went on—his breath came in quick gasps, sweat stood on his forehead, he was almost at the end of his strength. “I've this to say,” «ald Major with a snarl “You think you've got your own back—you think you've come out top-weight? You'll try to find Joan now, and take her away, eh?" He laughed, a hateful laugh, ‘She's clever, little Joan, she gulled you properly. Cleverer than any of us, You think she's his sister, don't you—sister to Ralph Hastings, as you call him? That's where you're wrong, my fine fellow, She's his wife—his wife!” He screamed the last words again in an ecstacy of triumph. CHAPTER XIX It was 4 o'clock on a broiling hot summer afternoon when Richard Ferrier reached London. He had fallen into a sort of heavy stupor in the train; he was aroused from it by @ porter shaking his ar.o urgently. “All change ‘ere! Paddington—ell change ‘ere!”* Ferrier groaned, and woke; his head was splitting, he was hot and feverish, his mouth was dry. The man eyed him suspiciously as he shouldered his hold-all and led the way to @ taxicab, “Where to, sir? Ferrier tried to colect. his thoughts; there was a line of pain tm his forehead. Finally he gave the name of the hotel where he had first met Joan—it was the only ad dress he could think of just the Ho lay back in the taxicab with a sense of relief; he felt as if he had struggled thru a severe Illness, It weerned weeks and months since last night—weeks and months since Major—what was it Major had told him? Oh, yes; he remembered now PS ENTU ae afte, Twi N Nancy and Nick held their water-pots so the Warm Spring Rain squirted out of the spouts. : Sprinkle Blow afd the twins sat)little breezes which were blowing all on the edge of the big cloud right/ine eeeds away! Ben Bunny had over Farmer Smith's sagpatch garden and @ very curious picture | omplained of this, you know, in his they made, the three of them, under 4 the Weatherman’s magic umbretia.| Down on the earth Ben Btnny No, they didn't need it fpr rain, as|%d Blossom, his wife, stuck their | the rain was below them, but they |N08es out of their house under the | did need it for Mr. Sun's rays. You know Mr, Sun always shines on the topside of a cloud, and that day he |#it delicious? I'm sure that my let- was doing his. best to chase Jack |r did some good, for the breezes | So he was pretty | have gone and it’s starting to sprin-| Frost up North. hot. Nancy and Nick were holding thetr/ Der Sunday week as sure as I have | Warm | whiskers, } watering-pots so that the Spring Rain which they bad got ow’ of Sprinkle-Blow's to the ground below. And Sprinkle Riow was holding a great open bus | th in his free hand to cateh the tricky | Fairy Queen so she will increase his | }—that Joan was her brother's wife It sounded silly, but it was the truth. There was no Joan—no Ralph Hastings—only a man and his wife, Ferrier laughed stupidly It was the first time he had ever heard the ring of truth In Major's vole, and for once he had believed him unquestioningly, It had been the last blow of the many that had been rained upon his heart since that day he landed in Liverpool, Ferrier had but vague recollec- tions of his departare from Eastsea, He knew that the smart maid had followed him about, her pert eyes eager, In her own way she had been kind—had packed his bag, made him drink a steaming cup of hot tea, Finally, she had lent him half a sovereign. ‘There had not been a single coin left In the belt Ferrier always wore round his waist, Notes and gold had all been taken. He was the poorer by nearly a hundred pounds; he wondered what would have be- come of him if he had not banked the greater part of his money before he left London to go to Eastsea for the first time, ‘The smart maid had accompanied him to the little station; she had seemed nervous and uneasy, A mo ment before the train started she had asked to be allowed to go with him, Ferrier had stared at her, (Continued on Monday) A barrel, squirted | out of the spouts and fell in big drops | Sprinkle-Blow oak treo and sniffed and sniffed. “Oh” exclaimed Ben. “Isn't that) kle. We'll have lettuce for our din- ‘The best of it is that that | rascal, Jack Frost, has gone arid | I hope we have seen the last of him. is a pretty good! Weatherman, my dear, and I'm thinking of writing a letter to the} salary.” Just then something hit Ben a crack on the nose and he jumped | about a yard. Mrs, Bunny picked it | up—the something, not the nose; it was a hailstone. (To Be © (Copyright, 1921, by Seattle Star) By BY AHERN CHES & WAL YeP.TMATS WHERE 1 Gor MY WISDOM TEETH! “DOWNING” THE TEACHER \ David and Peggy were having “I never had much trouble with a visit with one of Seattle's first public school principala, and David was quite excited about it. “And, Major” (David called him Major because daddy did, “did you have things at the end of school as we do now? Celebrate Longfellow and everything, and have track»meets™ \ The Major thought for a min- ute, then he said, “We didn't walt till the end of school to cele brate our poeta I recall the year 1878, Seattle was growing fast, there were 1,500 children tn school; that fs, all the schools put together. I was teaching in the old Central bullding and we had been studying some of the poems of John Greenleaf Whittier, “Snowbound™ and others. It was an open winter, and as we neared the date of Whittier’s birthday, I suggested that we send him a bouquet of native blossoms, gath- ered in midwinter. The date fell on the 17th of December. “We gathered wild flowers and made them into the shape of a harp and sent tt to the great poet, and be wrote the school a Deautiful letter of acknowledg- ment and said what he thought of our wonderful country where wild flowers bloom in midwinter. discipline as I remember, but I~ do recall one day when a boy got the hest of me. ss “You know how boys love to get a little mirror or piece of tin and throw sun rays into other people's faces?” David grinned gulltily. “Yes, I felt sure you would,” the Major continued. “Weill, boys were doing that same thing in 1875. I fancy they always have done it. e “One bright day toward the end of my day's work I noticed such @ bright spot dancing on the school room ceiling, on the wall, Mashing into my face. “I didn't say a word, but I walked slowly down between the rows looking for the owner of the mirror, “Everybody seemed quiet; everybody looked busy, and not @ face shbwed a sign of mischief. “Still the light danced and @anced all about the room. “Il walked to a window, and }looking down into the school yard, I spied the culprit. “Down I went, my mind all made up to tell that boy what T thought of his pranks. I walked sternly up to him; and placing my hand firmly on his shoulder, I said, ‘Young man, what are you doing? “He was little more than a baby, and lifting his face, all smiles and dimples, he replied eagerly, ‘Dis throwjng sunbeams in the school room.’ “I had nothing more te say.” PRREHS Confessions of a Husband (Copyright, 1921, by N. BAD 44. WHY EDITH WAS PUZZLED I had made up my mind not to say anything to Edith about the Salter person, but we had hardly begun luncheon when she opened the subject. “Don't you think Mr. charming?” she demanded. “Oh, I suppose so.” There was no enthusiasm in my voice, “Why, what do you mean? Every- one likes him so much, and he moves in such exclusive circles abroad.” “He talks in them right here,” I retorted. “Sooner or later he comes back to ‘T’--usually sooner, I got all mixed up lsténing to him, de cause when he said ‘George’ he sometimes meant King George and sometimes Lloyd George.” "Oh, you're just a bit jealous of him.” 1 playfully pretended to count my pulse. “No, tts quite normal, I assure ou.” Stn, T had made that same accu- sation against myself the night we/ returned from the roadhouse. I was! annoyed by the other's presence. — | was absurd, but at another time it] Salter is { ae a aati bs aka ene mrnnes th cin maneeneis He amcyeg: CRANES EAE, Ronee Of course, his colossal egotism would merely have amused me. That night I had been downright angry. Was I really jealous of that little wasp of a man with his mincing airs and his affected, English accent? T had had to play second fiddle. Why should that have bothered me with my own wife along? What difference did it make how many friends Edith had? The truth of it was that I had permitted myself to become much more interested in Edith than 1 would have liked to acknowledge either to myself or to Dot. In many respects she was different from any woman I had ever known. With all her little ¢wists and turns of speech and all the\half-humorous, half-deceitful things she did, she was by far the frankest person I had ever known, ‘ She gave me the impression of saying the things that the rest of us think—for instance, in comment ing on other people I often found her putting my own thoughts into words, But I would not have been honest enough to express them. And I couldn't deny that I was From the time Edith had seen = flattered by the attention she pald me. There is no man, no matter how safely married he seems, who i 100 per cent proof against flattery, “I believe you are as bad as George,” I heard Edith saying. I started. “What's the matter with George and me?” “Neither of you approve of Mr. Salter. Did you see the face George made when he came up to our table?” Of course T had, but I would never have said anything about tt. I had been taught that to notice such things was “bad taste.” “George is fearfully Jealous, poor fellow. He would really be a tyrant, |if I let him, However, he's happy now, because Mr, Salter got a cable from Paris and had to sail imme diately, “That's good.” ; “Ah, so you were jealous™ She |1ooked at me closely.” “There's one thing, tho, that puzzles me.” “Puzzles you? Can anything é@o that? What is {tt “The fact that George has never objected to you.” ae Be Continued Ee