The Seattle Star Newspaper, June 27, 1921, Page 9

ONDAY, JUNE 27, 1921. ft Against Young Dear Miss Grey: unable to find nice girls rondering quite so much why F rl does not fall in love with Tam 20 years old and hav fife. I am a modern girl and by some and a ah traveled about considerably make friends easily. I have with different classes of young and I am sorry to my I have first one to meet yet that 1 care to trust farther than I id see him, and who does not de bt in relating tales of his “devil of past days. They seem to nothing in God's beautiful world SS soft, sentimental, pretty girls, Ind their ability to capture the af ons of every new “jane” they nter, Are they all alike? The women of today are to be indeed, if they are, because en “BebeSeh eas gr | BELEreoe hes: “soft musher,” chaser"? lust Mary” should not be discour because we need more giris like in the world. Stick to your be and you will be respected, even you are not overburdened with ” Always bear in mind that hile there is a sea there are fish it E Se “3 Number of Persons Representative Miss Grey: Please tell me ny people one representative nts in the United States con Gress? This is for my cg In 1911 @ United States representa- was elected for every 290,000 ms. After the recent feder I presume they will be re- to coincide with the in- population. eee ‘Gases Used in the War Dear Miss Grey: What were the gases used by the war de- nt in the world war? R. P. > in sufficient quantity wes also mM, its effect being identical to et of @ deep burn. The bromine asta were not poisonous in the of being killers, but were highly irritating to the mem- of the eye. The tear gas the United States manu/ac- LoL @ nuisance in build- Poles thru which they obd- should rather the bats, which live almost ly on insects, and which over and laid a hand on his man and woman at a table clos ‘were looking across at Ferrier young Hastings curiously. foung Hastings leaned his head in hands, his face was grgy, his shook like a girl's. ere was a letter for me,” he ‘gresently. “In it she told me— me what he had said. He ‘ her to go back to him. I elieve he really did, but it \ way of torture. Ah! she + would rather die than ever ‘h him again. She loathed »body knows how she loathed of looked at tne boy with sad * was thinking that perhaps vere worse things than death world—things that rob a man e, and hope, and belief in ung good and beautiful. Aings lifted his head suddenly pushed beck the hair from his lorehead. He laughed shakily. “I'm a fool, I know I'm a fool; wait till you lose the woman you fe—when you lose her, and know it of some other man, He clenched his teeth. world after all,” he ‘went on savagely, “and some day I 1 meet him again, ami then—" | “and then,” said Ferrier quietly, Pyou'll do what I've done already— hhalf-kill him?’ “You! What do you mean?” Ferrier held out his big fist. There were marks on the knuckles, a gash 9 the wrist. “ can hit hard,” other man's eyes. sudden flush colored Hasting? a. #You mean it? That hound, Ma- gore” 4 “Yes—" fa ‘The boy drew « deep breath. | there.” “Good heavens! If I'd only been Ferrier struck a match on the stand before him; his face was grim. “I guess I was enough for him— he wasn’t exactly howling for more when I left him; and neither was 1,” he added ruetully, wn sensations as he staggered from e smoky, card-scattered room in the gray daylight. “What do you mean? What's he one to you? Heavens, man, tell me about it—tell mo where he is.” Ferrier hesitated. t's a long story,” he eald slowly. see me with Micky’s letter.” He Btoppea with a ttle sigh of pain. 3°T'm thinking it’s a story that's ended now.” The boy's burning eyes were fixed on hin face. Ferrier had the impres- Wy } {and the whole world, across the dead “Just Mary, n pressed in a recent issye, is not alone in her ravings. es my blood boil, too, when I read of two young men who etons they have in their closets. said, meeting | recalling his | wins before that day you called | sion that Hastings was viewing lite, | hia Grey: nother Modern Girl Comes With a Grievance Men of Today whose sentiments wae t here in Seattle. What's the hatter? I believe if many of them would go over their past/ ives carefully, they would decide that they should expect no | hore in this world than they can give, and they would stop | some sweet, nice, refined, clean them, regardless of how many e associated with boys all my considered popular, and pretty ute wall flower” by some and a “poor sport” | 9y others. I have never been accused of either dressing with | clothes than a cannibal wears, or having enough war- nt on to take a prize at an Indian beauty contest. | | | | lconsequently are @ friend of man.| The holes may be closed at night, while the bats are out. This shoul not be done in May or June, as du it worth.while woman would wish |ing that season there is danger of shutting in the broods of young bate. eee | Gives Her Recipe | For Happiness | Dear Miss Grey: Just a few tines in regard to the ‘98 models: Until a/ onths ago I was a 1921 model ofa sirl, and I can safely say | there are a sufficient number of the right sort of girls to more than equal the number of the right sort of boys. Personally, I never have worn my | dresses an indecent length. jever, my hair has always been }dressed in the latest style, altho |never to the extreme. I can walk ) within mile. of my home and | possibly meet two out of twenty that i am not acquainted with. I have always had all the fun that anyone, aj | SOY OF girl, could possibly wish for, | , and have never Leen a wallflower or jan outcast. Now that I'm married and happily settled, I'm going to give someone else the key to my success, and I will always hope they are as suc cessful as I have been. It ts just this: Use common sense and you j will find happiness. ME. EL ee | Wouldn’t Look jin Dance Room To a “Scotch Lassie": Your ex | timate of men is hardly fair, since | you admit being a dancing teacher and judge all mén by the ones you have met in the dance hall. Unfortunately, you do not meet #0 many different kinds of them there as you would in numerous other places. Why, I know an ex-sawmill man with only a thumb left on his hand that could count the “good,” Teal men he would meet at some of the places. Why don’t you get out into the highways and byways, into the pro fessions, the mercantile world, the agricultural callings if you wish to know some rea! fellows, with whom you could trust almost any woman indefinitely? A Ww. body of the girl he had loved—that always, wherever he looked In the future, he would «ee Kitty's dead face, and her eyes as they had stared up at him, Then he laid down his pipe and told Hastings the whole story. ago to tell it to you then,” quietly in conclusion. “But after what you said about Miss Hastings |—that's not her name, I know, but I [never knew her by any other—it | was impossible for me. You see"— | he paused— “you see, I loved her, land by giving Major away to you |it meant that I gave her away, too. I couldn't think of it then, but now now I am not so sure. His even tones deepened suddenly, his eyes finshed. “You talk of the horror of death, and the pain it brings! Man, do you know what the |pain is like when you have wor- shiped a woman for an angel, and | you find that she is only—" He bit | the word back. his face looked white and sick |for her,” he went on after a second. |“But now there's something in me that can only—hate!” A cruel intonation crept into Fer. |rier’s voice. Young Hastings stared at him with fascinated eyes. All at once he began to feel sorry for this jwoman of whom Kitty Inglis had spoken—this woman who had fooled and duped other men besides Fer rier, A® he looked at his distorted face, he realized what it would mean to make an enemy of this man. “It sounds like a fairy story,” he said. “I can't believe it—in England —sane, free England, For a man like you to fall into such a den of thieves, drugged and robbed, I can't believe it.” Ferrier shrugged his shoulders. “I waa a fool, but not the first fool to walk open-eyed into a trap be- cause a woman has led the way.” | His volee was hard, his gray eyes like flint. “The only question left jis, what are we to do? it's up to you to say.” “To me? But, good heavens, man, it’s your affair—you've been robbed |Are you going to let it all go with- out a word? Are you mad, or am I?) Ferrier looked at him steadily. “L know what I'm saying, A week ago, even yesterday, I would have cut my tongue out rather than |bave given those scoundrels away, because of—you know why! But now, I can't sit still and look on any longer. Man ative, I've done my share of the play-acting, and what's it brought me?” “I know--I know, but-—" A «ud. den flash lit young Hastings’ “You said—you #poke of her. gave you some address. She'd be willing to be bought over. She could put us on the track. I have it, of course, You must write to her—get How. | “I came up to London ten days! “I'd have given my life! And I think | THE SEATT LE STAR | | WAIT A MINNIT = LES SEE I Taw ToC HAve | TrHem aA ‘To GET SOME NICE FRESH DOINGS OF THE DUFFS DADDY, WHY GEEE = AI WHEREJA oN AN (CE €RGAM SODA, WHAT Wicd er BE FOR You, VAT is | WHAT WIL TT BE FOR Me = WELL, (T WON'T GE HERS WHERG THE Glasses AND SPOON ARS “WASHED” BY WIGGLINS her to meet you somewhere. She'll come readily enough. Don't you see jit all? Lay a trap for them as they | did for you, don’t you see?” “You-1 sect’ Ferrier answered slowly, the words seemed to come | with difficulty; something of the old drowsy, numbed feeling was creep- ling over him again—the fiery wheel in his head was beginning tts devil |ish revolution. But above all, | piteous ery beat against his heart |and brain—a cry in the voice that |to him had once been the sweetest | music in the world, “Come back poon—come back “oon. It isn't my fault—some day | you'll understand, It isn't my fault.” CHAPTER XX Ferrier went back with Hastings to his rooms in the Adelphi. The two men sat up into the night. Hast lings was restless and excited; he wanted to be up and doing immedi- lately. He seemed to have but one desire, to Iay Major and his friends by the heel, and revenge the dead girl whom he had loved. Ferrier let him talk on—he him self sat in one of the big arm chairs, and hardly spoke. He was torn with conflicting emotions, Try as he might, he could not silence Joan's voice, which seemed crying to him |across the space dividing them. It | made him cold and sick to think of |the indignities and suffering she might even then be experiencing. He had told Hastings that she was |@ married woman—and in his heart | that fact was like an impenetrable wall erected between them, She was another man's wife—she was not, .|and never could be, anything to him. The thought drove him from his chair to pace the little room. Hastings watched him with ex- cited eyes, “What are you thinking about?” one} rew TIMGS _ IN coup he asked once, abruptly. “You look you look devilish.” He laughed rather constrainedly, “Do I? It's my head; Yve not got over that confounded drug yet. I'm all right. What were you say ing?” “LT asked when you will write to that maid. You say she lent you some money which you promised to return poste restante, Write tonight, the last mail is cleared at twelve. Hang it, man, what's the use of hesitating? Strike while the tron‘’s hot. If you've emashed Major up badly, he can't get away for a day or two, Tell her to meet you some | where, and I'll come, too—no, better not, perhaps; she might smell a rat. You meet her, and pretend you want to get into communication with Joan.” He spoke the name almost apologetically. “I don't know her wnder any other name. She'll be lieve you, {f you pay her weil, and then we shall have them.” His voice rose excitedly, a flame of ‘color dyed his young face, he fetched paper and pena, and brought them across to Ferrier; hig hand shook with nervous excitement as he forced a pen into Ferrler's fingers, “Write, man, write! Heavens, how slew you @ Ferrier took the pen and dipped it in the ink, but wrote no word: the paper lay untouched before him, That throbbing wheel in his head would not let him think clearly, and just now he needed to have all his wits about him, There was something he must say before he wrote, so many things to be weighed in the balance. He tried to concen trate his thoughts, but he could think of nothing but that ery in Joan's volce— “It isn’t my fanlt—some day you'll understand and be sorry.” He eet his lips, and his dark brows frowned painfully, There was DO CHICKENS LAY EGGS? HE A DANDY !! VENICE GONDOLERS! Danny Might BECAUSE IF THEY DROPPED THEM THEY’D, INT GET ONE OF THEM Right near to Ben Bunny’s house stood the Magical Mushroom. He knew that Nancy and Nick had gone up to the sky to help Mr. Sprinkle-Blow, but he decided to wait awhile and see how things went be fore following them. He had seen Mr. Sun chase Jack Frost, and he had watched the approach of the cloud upon which sat the twins and the Weatherman. He had seen the tricky breezes jump unknowingly into Mr. Sprinkle-Blow’s big bag and lof the growing things. Folks on Jearth call them March winds, but |fairy-folk know they bave another name. ‘Then he had noticed approvingty the warm raim that followed and Ben Bunny's delight at the same, but he was absolutely astonished when the big hallstones, big as walnuts, came pelting down everywhere. “Hey there!” he called up to the cloud ee Bate lc AN nat no excuse to be made for her — none. Even now, at this very mo | ment, she and the man who was her |husband might be laughing sofether over his downfall, and their victory His fingers tightened round the pen, and he began to write swiftly. Young Hastings paced the room— he was on fire with excitement. Al- ready in imagination he had his fingers about Major's throat. His overwrought, grief-stricken mind believed that never until that mo- ment of revenge woul@ he forget the dead girl's eyes &s they had seemed to follow him about the darkened room in which he had last kissed her cold lips goodby, ‘The silence was unbroken save for the scratching of the pen as Fer- rier’s big hand guided it across the papes, Presently he rose and flung it down, laughing mirthlessly. “There you are-I ean do no more. She may be fooling us all yet—the maid—playing another and deeper game, Who knows? They're more than a match for me, the whole lot of them.” He leaned against the window frame and looked down over the ri lights, ed » with {ts myraid of twinkling the and dark shadows of r a pillar-box just at the corner, I'll come with you.” ‘The two men went down the stone staircase thru the silent house; a sleepy porter rose to his feet and bade them a respectful “Good even- ing" he looked after them yawning. ly as they went out into the night. (Continued Tomorrow) ADVENTURES OF ENE CMINS “For goodness sake, what's happening?” he cried. then get hauled up to the sky where | they belonged, and out of the way! Look for the Needle WELL, TUAT LOOKS LIKE A SMART 006 You HAVE HERE, upon which the Weatherman and his helpers were sitting with thelr watering pots tilted. “What are you | doing?” But no one heard him, eo he de cided to go himself and find out what had happened. Right up thru the pelting hail- stones he went, using Magic of course (otherwise his nice round hat |would have been mashed to pieces) jand landed on the yery cloud where Nancy and Nick and Sprinkle-Blow were peacefully sitting. For goodness sake! What's hap- | pening?” he cried. “You're both pour- jing down hailstones like bombs,” and he pointed to |watering pots which the children jheld in their hands. “It's those Nulsance Fairies againt declared Sprinkle-Blow with a shout, slinging his bag containing the breezes over his shoulder and closing his umbrella so he could ride it up to the star where he lived. “Come on, kiddoes, we'll investi. gate.” a (To Be Continued) (Copyright, 1921, by Seattle Star) That evening I told Dot about taking Edith to lunch, but she did not seem very much interested. She asked one or two languid questions and then dropped the subject, which was something of a relief to me. Dot's mother and father were to leave that evening on an 8 o'clock tralm they would have to/go down to the station right after dinner. I sight gave me a great deal of quiet satisfaction, “I suppose we had better take a taxi,” I said to my wife, “No, we won't have to,” she as- sured me. “In fact, we aren't going to bother you at all.” “That's good news, bat who ts | going to carry the grips” “George is coming by In his car and will take us to the station, You can't come along even if you want to, because there's room for only four.” “George? I didn't know he could drive, Edith has always done the driving when we've been out to gether.” “Oh, T guess he can drive well enough to get us down to the sta- hand | the | noted their bags in the hall, and the| * Te was Mr. McGinnis who told the children the story of the old Indian who sat down and died because he thought he had lived long enough, and now they were asking him questions so fast that he couldn't begin to answer them all. “Why had the Indian wanted to die?” “Did Mr, McGinnis know lots of other queer stories?” “Were the Clallam Indians all warlike and terrible?” and many more. “Now, see Pere” he protested. “If you will keep right still arfd stop asking questions I will tell you a good Indian story that was told to me by the man who saw it, and 1 know him to be a truth- ful man. “Up in Clallam county tn the early days, the Indians did most of our transportation business in their canoes, “At Port Crescent there was a logging camp and the hay needed for the horses and oxen had to be brought by water from the farms in the country round. “To carry hay across the water the Indians would tie two big canoes together, side by side, and so make a sort of barge. One day a chief, a mighty and brave man, was with other Indians get- (Copy: 45, A VERY JOYOUS FAREWELL tion.” “Well, I certainty hope he can. I say, Dot, I'd much rather you wouldn't take any chances on his driving. Let me call him up and say you've changed your mind.” “Sillyt Nothing's going to happen. One would think we were going on | Some wild adventure to look at the long face you're making. We're go- ing to drive down to the Penns; vania station and come right back. “Why doesn’t Edith drive you down? She knows how to ma a car much better than he does,” “Then she and I would have to ride back together alone. Besides I'd rather trust than Edith’s for he isn’t so reck- less." Still, I felt uneasy. I would be glad to see Dot come home again. Tam afraid that my goodby to my parentsin-law was more cordial than my welcome had been. Their departure took @ big load off my mind. Dot and I practically never quar- reled when they weren't around, and I looked forward to being alone with her again. We would under- 2 a tents DADDY, HAS THAT HAY STACK GOT A NEEDLE IN ITP NAH! I DONT EVER LET HIM * : OD) Cleland _ 4 Page 400 CLALLAM INDIANS BUREN Confessions of a Husband George's driving | PAGE BY ALLMAN I SEE WHERE A FELLA IN CHICAGO WAS PINCHED FOR SLEEPING + ww ting one of these cance barges up from the mouth of the Elwah river when he saw a big hair goal swimming not far from them, “He reached out with bis pad- die and tried to strike it, and fail ing and being unwilling to lose 80 fine a bit of game, over he went into the deep water and caught at the seal with his bare hands. “The men watched tn wonder” and alarm. “What would he do? What could he do out there in deep water with a strong water animal like that? “He soon showed them. Swim- ming straight to thé seal, he caught it just back of the head and mounted it as if it-were a horse. “The wattchers gasped, and well they might for, feeling the weight on his back and the grip on his neck, the seal whirled about and struck out from the di- rection of the reef whither hehad been going, toward the deep water and the open sea, 4 “They saw him dive, but fan ther out, up he came again and, sitting straight and unafraid, rode the Indian. “No one knew what would hap- pen, and every time the seal went under and tried to shake off his captor the men expected to see him come up free, but after a long time, and when he was about a mile from shore, he apparently gave up, tired out, and swam with his rider straight in to shore and the chief had his game." stand each other better, and the things that were bothering mq especially that nonsense about Edith —would be easier to face. Perhaps I would find some way to te}l Dot the whole story, and them everything would be all right. George came to the apartment. He looked a little flustered, and o> plained that the self-starter had beet balky, but that he had finally man aged to get the car to run. I helped him carry the grips downstairs. His very evident ignorance about cars did not make me feel one bit jeasier, At the last moment I wanted to go instead of Dot, but she ins sisted that she had to take her pas Lents to the train, (fo Be Continued We dye your rags and old carpets and weave them into handsome rugs. The Fuzzy Wazzy Rug Co, Phone Capitol 1233