The Seattle Star Newspaper, February 14, 1923, Page 11

(Continued From Yesterday) Tt jarred. It was pasty of ris, but F oosidn’t belp tt. 1 fe it cut off from all those seourtties If Mon fea didn't marry Secretary Redvor J supposed she would marry Captain of the Guards, or prom. ising young Selwyn, M. P. She only had to trot along nicely, enjoy herself, want what abe got, and get it, Forty five shillings a week! I weakened on Gunday and asked Monica whether she thought I'd done wrong, and whether | ought to go home. Monica thought I had done wrong. Above all, ebe thought me ailly, But shy @iant help me much, because, in a it, we returned to Redvera I then that I must fight this by I understood it still better , as It meditatively extracted steak and kidney pudding freg- that fortunately could not be ; 1 realized that it was no going with people like Monica. talk was not my talk, I (t go on disregarding my aloof. from the play of the day, from weekends at houms like Ciber I coulint refuse to play and I wasn't good enough to Hildebrand easily. Indeed, this renunciation was A sort of agony, I didn't have the content that I felt after that Tunch at Isabel's, when I bade fare-/and walked away, laughing pound of che bad nearty 40 pounds; it seemed a|arets, and “The Young Visttora ot of money, #0 I could afford to say | ‘well to Plutus, for tn those days I good-bye to Plutus; now Plutus was aying good-bye to ma And he's a| DAY, FEBRUARY 14, 1 A Novel by W. L. George. Copyright, 1931, by Harper @ Brothers. shouldn't have a 3 dont pretend that I took this/ com “It does zeem a shame that you better time, Miss Trent. It must be so dull for you to the evenings, What do you do with yourself? 1 told him, stay lonely like that? When one's ®ot eyes soft as those of an antelope, and hands like a spray of fern?" I did not reply, He made me un comfortable in a nice way. on analyzing me, the grace of my carriage, the amber quality of my skin, It was rather exciting; he sat {n a chair, not far from me, and now and then, as he leaned forward, I thought he would try to kiss me. That would be awkward In my pos!- tion, for I didn't want him to, and yet I wanted him to want to, It was very nice being vaguely afraid. 1 grew a little more nervous a few days tater, when I met him tn the hall, his hat on, as I was leaving, for he said he was golrig my way, to St John'o Wood, and walked with me to my door, amusing and flattering me by asking me what I thought of the people we met, and stopping me ser- fousty outside a milliner’s in Eig. ware Road to discover a becoming jhat. He took me to my door, and I was horribly embarrassed. Suppos- ing he tried to come up? Mra Wit- ham would never stand {t, But he did not; he thrust into my hand a small parcel he had been carrying, halt a on, 60 Turkish cig- What ts one to do with a man like! that? I wondered Mout him aa, that evening, I smoked, nibbled and god. I was losing my old | laughed. I knew nothing about him. patronizing friends, and I had no new ones. It| He was a jwas that, I suppose, made me feel | more kindly to Phillp Vernham, who feel tmportant, for 1 was enormouasl evidently was not pursuing very hard that opening as an engineer, for now he came in almost every day, wanting @ book or a pencil; or had he left gome notes on my table? He stayed gometimes a few minutes, sometimes |licious to look at.” Ralf an hour. He was getting bolder dow, a good-tempered, intelligent shadow, That made me myself, and he my reflector. to dinner. I refused. “Don't say no,” he murmured,| leaning toward me “You're so de- admiration was so frank, and I like Y, AY BURRS ° afte TWINS “Yes, this is Nick,” said the little boy > | | . One day the telephone rang In the fall down In a falnt. | ttle hickory tree postoffice where Nancy and Nick were working. Mr, Stamps answered it. ‘was busy and he didn’t bothered. Besides he was pretty sure Up. “Hello! Hello! Hellof he shouted again more sharply than ever and Fattling the recetver up and down an _ tho he would like to smash the whole bustnens, “Hello?” he said sharply, for’ he | was rasny. “Ho's had bad news" cried Nancy, wpringing up, while Nick grabted “Tingaling—a—ling?’ it went and |the telephone receiver to get the} message. Mr. Stampe opened one eye, then like to be | the other, and slowly sat up. “No, not bed news,” he whispered. ‘B—dut it’s the Fairy Queen and 1| I—T'll lone my job, Hon: | estly I didn’t know it was her—ahe —or I wouldn't have been so—you falk to her, Nick.” Nancy and Mr. Stamps listened. “Yes, Your Highness. I'll tell + “Yes, operator?’ he yelled. “Bome- | Mr. Stamps you couldn't hear him. one called us. The bell mng and what's that? for goodness sake, tell _ to walt, Hello! Hello! Hello! Fang as tho we were all deaf and—|busy as last week. Mr. Long distance! Oh, |Longstride is back and there isn’t | them to|much for Nancy and me to do now. _ hurry up then! I haven't got all day | beg your pardon, what place did| Who |you say? Mix-Up Land! 4s it? Who? I sald, "Who fs it?” Who jus to go and help! All right, we'll| He'll be sorry, I know. No, not as You want | wants Hickory 917. Yes! Yes! Yes! |come to your palace for orders right Oh, for goodness sake hurry up!|away. Good-bye.” Who are you? Yes, this is Stamps. Yes, I said ‘Stamps.’ Stickum 4. | sald. 's all "Don't you worry! right, Mr. Stamps,” he But, say! Stamps. Talk a litte louder! Who? | Nancy and I will have to be leaving “Talk louder! Louder! Who is it?” | you soon.” Suddenly Nancy and Nick saw Mr. Stamps put his hand to his head and ar * “But Dr. Maynard remembered Chiet Seattle's warning, and knew that his piace was with his own Indians, He didn't want any troublemakers coming in from the warriors and stirring them Up. Ho wasn’t afraid to stay. “The ‘Active’ steamed away. And in still, earnest voices the doctor and his wife talked of what they must do. “Tou were right, quite right,’ Mrs. Maynard told the doctor. “You Must stay here, And yet—yet—we Must in some way get word to Bo- attle that the Indians are ready to Strike. Especially Captain Ganesvoort om the “Decatur” should be told.’ “For days the doctor bad gone out very cautiously among his Indians, Always following Chief Seattle's mux- fertion, and wearing an Indian blan- Kat about him from neck to toa, #0 that & hiding Indian might not spot Mm as the White Tyse and shoot at him trom soma dark hiding pianos. “The Maynards Jost no time, They fathered about them certain Indin Whom they could trust, and quiet! nd Teady @ canos, working with as je nolne ae possible, and in the shadow of the night, it wana atormy night and cold, the ft January, 1856; whitecaps tossed Si ihe wureing waves, and wind and ster joined in w aulien, threatening wat: The clouds hung low, and not « ota nse wulde them. Indian And dawn in covered over women and ons man the bottom of the canoe, LY * Page 912 FOURTEEN MILES ON A ROUGH SEA (To Be Continued) (Copyright, 1923, by Seattle Star) Shattle * with Indiaa mate, lay the brave little woman who wns risking her life that the vilinge might be warned “The canse rode lightly on the big waves, but she was sadly tonted and buffeted by the wind, and with all their Indian cunning and savage skill, the Indians had hard work to hold her to her course, or indeed to keep her right side up at all. “After what seemed an endless period of tru the canoo was driven ashore at West point. Re- member, there waa no twinkling Meht- house to guide sailors then, And no dully ringing bell-buoy warned them off the rocks, “Aa the little oraft drove in shore, many silent bianketed figures ran out of the woods to meet it, A campfire flared up, arid questions and answers flew taat, “It Is only @ party of women,’ one said, ‘with but one man. They can 40 no harm.’ Then they spied the mata in the bottom, and one eried out, ‘Wait! What have you thore?’ “CLAMB!' Bally shouted, and shot with {t= precious freight, storm, piece of work, they maw the hey came lights of the ehip; alongside “Who goo there?’ challenged the man on guard. “It (9 I, Mra. Maynard, from the yesorvation, I must se Capt, Ganen- voort at ones,’ Mra, Maynard sal softly, The whole party was almont sted, And the men helped them ai xboard, and made eottee for the In- ‘ hile they waited.” Bene eto the Continued | | “But don't you think It's « pity to/ He went | | | wouldn’t be fair. y “What's that got to ¢ ? Ta Next day he asked me to come out| nat? gga esol or | I hesitated: hin} "Yes, this in Nick,” said the little | jboy. tridealong | RRKRER you tell! Wh it may be you r be truco So I ald to, Supposing Mra. V out, she wouldn't It! At a fool you are a it, and ft may “1 don’t think I ought ham found "You needn't tell b Of course ahe wouldn't like it If you were @ Uttle frump she wouldn't mind But do come, It isn’t so very cheerful In the evening at the club, or here wit! unto reading me selected bits f tty Polly's Fortune. Well,” I said, “I'll tell you tom row He embarrassed me; he di not exactly please me in himaecif only, in his eyes, I was much a pe sonality, But if I went out with what would happen? He'd be sur to_make love to me I didn't wan that. Didn't I? In my perplexity | decided to consult Mabel. I found it difficult to ask more or leas I meant—namely, should I let men make love to me or not? 1 wasn't used to discussing that sort of thing, While I sat in her only chair, by the fire, Mabel Thornton sprawled on the bed. She seemed Uatlons, what nto say there's # man after replied, made sly by “not exactly that, but he talks to me and wants me to go out to dinner with him.” “Well,” sald Mabel, “why don’t you go? Do you fancy him? If you don't, perhaps you fancy the dinner I did not reply at once. I did fancy the dinner, and so did not want Mabel to suggest it. “I don't want his dinners,” I replied, grandly “What are you bothering then?” | “Oh, dear,” I sighed, “I don't know! Only I feel I'd Uke to; after all, 1| don't have a very good time, but If I go out with him he'll think he oan Well, you know what men are. I don’t want him to. So if I lot him spend money on me it about, | Mabel suddenly eat up. clenched fist; her voic grew aking @ suddenly arch, “Fair!" she aid. of being fair to men! You might as well talk of being fair to tigera| They'll use you, they'll play with you, they'll lie to you. Oh, they’re beasts You needn't trouble to be fair to them. My wort! A man knows how to look after number one. Don’t you take men Itke that, Miss Trent. You get what you can out of them. Feed out of their hand, and don’t be afraid to bite tt." I was frightened She sounded hysterical, So I murmured: “But murely you don't fee! like that your- self? don't want to seem inqutst-| tive, but you've said that you, too, you've got sornehody.” She alld off the bed, her ekirt and Petticoats rucking up and showing| her cotton stockings. “Yea, I've got somebody. Or somebody's got ma It's Itke the fly and the fly-paper; who knows which ts which? Do you think I Ike {t? Do you think I en- Joy it? But what's the good of talk-/ ing to you! You don't understand what It means to have a man hold you in his arms, and ss he ktines| you to tell yournelf, ‘This ts heaven.’| And at the same time to smell his mustache and ask yourself: ‘What's| that scent? In whose arms was he| half an hour ago? ” “But,” I said, “if you foel itke that, why don’t you let him go? Hor eyes looked wild, mmall, brown, in big whiten “Let him go,” she murmured. “How can you let « thing| go when It's got you? If you feel! faint when he takes your hand at| the pictures . . . to may nothing of what {t's ke when you give him| everything.” | I wan silent. I had not expected | this confession, I knew, of course, | that girls who aren't married some-| times have lovers in the full sense, | but I'd never met one, This woman, | acknowledging, waa a fort of outlaw | to me, an adventuress, different from | | me. Sho dared. I half admired her. “Well,” she raid, roughly, “I sup- pose you're shocked, Miss Trent.| You'd better get used to ft tn this! world. I'd rather go on the streots| to feed him than be what they call! respectably married to anyone else. | I don't care what he does to me, it's | him. But don't you do it." Bhe sur- prised me. How could she warn me against « course which seemed to en- thrall her? Sho felt this, for she ex- plained: “I don't mean {t doesn't make ono happy. It does that; 1| bluntly says, “¥ y.” wo have a nm | Amount to: “What lies | get him.” THE 5 TAR CHILDREN NEED CLOTHES ) Children always need more clothes! | box pleats, the clever side pleats from y | Here are some pretty ones—serv- | the Iceable, too. Note the yoke cut in the garment with the front panel, the tny frock | wardrobes, for the jwith raglan sleeves and mnocked| making her children's low waistline of the aketch, 80 much variety makes for large not a mother dresses trimming, the dress shirred around|can resist the temptation of attrac- the throat thru loops that really are | tive designs. dign‘t know what happiness meant til I stopped refusing him, But when you do that you've half lost « man. He's got you. He knows. He fools safe of you. All the other wom- én, he hasn't got ‘om yet, and that's why they tempt him. And you don't know what he's up to, I suppose that’s love, half hating, 1 could kill him so that nobody’ else could ever the most frightful sobs, and when, at last, holding her close, I managed to| quiet her, she muttered: “I talk Uke that. And all the time I know... things can't last forever. It could end today. Perhaps he's writing to ¢ now to give me the chuck. I've always thought he wan giving me the | chuck, from the first word, as if it was too good to last.” tu Mabel Thornton did not help me! much in my loneliness. She was too absorbed. I felt w complete empti- hess, I went to Uncle Victor again, and at Inst borrowed 20 pounds from him, for I still didn’t know how to manage, and in this bitter weather Needed some new warm underclothes. 1 hadn't known whmt It was to be cold before, It makes one understand, Now and then I look at women loaf- ing in Regent Street, and I wonder {f they're cold. It's woree than being hungry. It gets you all over, And when you are, as I waa, marooned in & little room, you feel ready for any- thing. Most people aren't marooned; ‘They’ve got somewhere to go, friends of thelr own kind; they can go and) sit in a warm room where people fat and have tea. hadn't the clothes, the couldn't humiliate myself by mixing with them. I hadn't the time for tea partion, the money for theaters; this meant new friends and I hadn't got them yet. It makes one understand. No wonder I wanted to go to dinner! with Phillp Vernham, even tho this compromised me into something I didn’t want, Just to sit at a meal with somebody who's friendly, to ex- pertence light, flowers, music, ad miration. Insteatl of boiling one’s kettle on one’s grate and reading In the evening paper descriptions of the Chelsea Arts Ball. Something was| breaking me, something different from what was breaking Mabel as sho stirred her fire on the other side of the wall. Her troubles didn't help me, for the miseries of others do not THE ONE-MAN WOMAN BY RUTH AGNES ABELING CHAP. 58—A NEW LATHAM ‘Who Is \t7” Kate asked. Tho woman standing between two) stretchers, on which lay, thinly veiled | under thelr sheets, two motionless human forms, was crying. “Who Is it?” Kate repeated softly. “Is {t someone you care very much | for?” “How will I ever tell her—poor lit- tle girl, poor little girl! The crying had resolved itself Into a crooning sound, in which Kate could distin- guish words. | “Do you know who the man 1s7”| Kate pressed the question, “and who will you have to tell?” “Alicet? The woman had stopped crying. She wae drying her tears on the sleeve of the gingham waist she wore under her short age-green cape. As Kate watched her she seemed to age visibly. Her tear-stained face was pitiful under {ts rouge. “That's the fellow who used to coms to see Alice.” The woman's voice was unsteady. “I don't know much about him except that he meant 4 whole lot to her, and-—TI can't tell her, But she ought to know?’ “Perhaps she knows already,” Kate suggested, “Do you suppose #07" The woman looked up. It was a new {den to her, "I'd go home, anyway, if I were you, and get a bit nettled before ing Alice.” Kate's voice was sympa- thetic, “We'll take you there.” ‘And #0, with Kate and the strange shabby woman beside him, Latham drove away from the morgue toward the place where Alice lived, “we'd better got dinner now," he wuggested, putting the woman down nt her gate and waving to her as Kate and he drove away, “Tt's been a strange day, hasn't 1t?* Kate broke the silence which lasted during thoir drive to the restaurant and until the were sented at the ta. thing in Latham's tone caught Kute’s attention, = BEING A ‘I'M TIRED OF HANDY MAN,” “You haven't been quite yourself." Could she have done #0, Kate would “|have recalled the words, °No.” Thore was a trace of irrite tion in Latham's tone. Kate wondered. James Latham seemed suddenly distinterested, Ho never had been bored with her be- fore, Her vanity was hurt. “What has changed you so sudden. ly?’ sho asked, “I'm tired of being @ handy man.” Hin tone wos surly, “And I stop it right here-—tonightt’ Latham's jaws snapped together, Kate wan startied, She looked at the man across the table half fear. fully. (To Be Continued) Wopyright, 1923, by Soattle Star) Buddenly she burst into! cane our own. The thing that pos- senaed her was killing her; but noth- ing held me at all, and I thought to dio of that, CHAPTER V Between Two Showers 1 I was walking up Regent Street, Just after half past ten, and was Rearing the end of my energy. I had @ sense of futility, I wasn't doing anything: Iw as just being, and snip, snip, snip, went the days of my life, It had been an awful Sat- urday. During the past three months, and particularly during the past two, my parents had pressed me to come back. Mamma had written tearful letters, in which she recalled her happiness 20 years ago, when the pattor of little feet was heard in the nursery, This irritated ma One didn't hear the patter of little feet at Ciber Court. The walla were thick, Mamma was so irritating In those moods, She made out a bill against one's emotions Yet I felt a beast, and a beast again when for the day. an the grave consequences of course she was taking. quarreted; If it hadn't been at Clar- {dgo'n we would certainty have quar- reled. I grew rather rude at the end. “The sooner everybody understands that I'm not going to be interfered with, the better." As papa did not respond to this defiance, I recalled jthat I badly wanted an allowance I couldn't do} that; Monica had shown me that. 1/ habite; 1) now, 80 grew milder, “Of course, It's not nice being hard up. I know It's ot to be faced, ntill, there ft ts I'm Door, and It onn't be helped.” Unfortunately papa aid not rise, but that he was unkind, but Ideas did not travel very quickly in his brain, I suppose he must have forgotten, for 1 did not get the allowance. We had tournedon, tho, much nicer than the ABC steak pudding. (Continued Tomorrow) SPRING GOWNS ARE GAY BY MARIAN HALE No woman is going to need urging to 4o her spring shopping early this year, What she will need, however, ts a sense of restraint, exercised possibly | by parent or husband, if she nover has developed that quality in her- self. Gowna for spring and summer | re] 80 comfortable looking, #0 gay 2 1d comparatively so simple and tnx pensive, that one is completely taken off guard. In gowna the style leader of the moment seems to be the printed or bordered frock. You 2an't get away frgm {t. Designs may be delicate and artistio or huge and crude—the sort of thing that suggests the im- mature work of a child. Painley, Persian and Indian de- signs are all being carried over from the winter, and are scen on silks and cottons alike, After printed patterns come the all-over embroideries, naturally much more expensive, Wool and silk em- broldery is not only used in bright colors and peasant designs on silks, but allover patterns tn self colors are excellent style. Lace is used extenstvely for the More elaborate type of frock, dyed brilliant colors, as well as in cream and black, Most frequently tt Is combined with a blouse or basque of silk or velvet. Knitted fabrics tn allk and wool, tweeda, Polret twill and flanne! are all employed to make the popular type of sports frock that is embel- Mshed by scarfs, monograms and the use of may silks, Skirts are of medium length, neither uncomfortably long nor con- aplouously short, and they are pleat: Cheese Pudding BY BERTHA ©. SHAPLEIGH Of Columbla University 1 pound mild cheese 8 lightly beaten eggs 1% cups thin cream or top mili 2 tablespoons butter 1% teaspoons salt 1 teaspoon mustard Fow grains cayenne Several slices buttered bread Lino a buttered baking dish with tho bread, out Into strips, touching each other, IMI) dish with choose and ees mixed with milk and sea. sonings, Bake 80 minutes In a hot oven and serve immediately, With Nght, green salad, rolls and coffee, makes delicious luncheon or sup. per combination, fourth } who| too | AGE 11 HOCGLATE| FLAVOR | NETED If they like cocoa rLK | give them this new hot drink HAT child would turn up a small pug nose at anything so delicious as this new beverage? No matter how finicky your child’s appetite is, you can get him to take substantial nourishing food in the form of Borden's Chocolate Malted Milk. Almost all children like cocoa. Borden's Chocolate Malted Milk has that popular chocolaty flavor but it has greater food value and cannot possibly tax young digestions. It is exceptionally rich in body-building and energy-contributing elements which every child needs for growth. Keep your children fit—strong, sturdy, clean-limbed, rosy—by this simple means. Give them Borden’s Chocolate Malted Milk at least once a day, served hot. How to mtx it Get a can of this wonderful new food beverage from your druggist or grocer. All of the ingredients are in one package, All you need to do is to make a paste of three tea- spoonfuls of the powder with a little cold milk, add milk to make a glass- ful, and let it boil up three times. In this cold weather, Chocolate Malted Milk should never be given cold. Every child should have this nourishing hot drink before going to school in the morning. THE BORDEN COMPANY , Borden CHOCOLATE FLAVOR MALTED MILK 1 ¢d or draped or straight and narrow lunched with papa, who'd come up| for those so Inclined, He behaved like a mag-| The waistline is slightly raised and istrate pointing out to @ young wom-|#!¥es @ much trimmer line to the the | fixure than the extremely low one of We nearty| the fall and winter. frock ia still very popular, but #0 is the basque bodice and the fall skirt —that very youthful, girlish style. Instead of the hard neckline of the past setvons we welcome the return of the V and square neck, and the white collars and cuffs and embrotd- | ered frills that #o soften the line. Colors are running riot. There's a Fay season ahead. WINNIPEG, Feb. 14—Thirteen- year-old Daisy Berridge, running away from home and sleeping in a| neighbor's haystack, waa killed when the owner thrust his pitchfork into the hay, ( NAMEDICO (WHITING'S SOLUTION) ts a scientific solution which The chemise DR. EDWIN J, BROWN'S DENTAL OFFICES 106 Columbia St. Seattle's Leading Dentist for More Than 21 Years stored to a healthy, normal con- dition. Telephone Main 7980. Spring Apts., No. 45. An Unusual Effort! It is out of the ordinary service that you re- ceive from anyone that attracts your atten- tion and makes a favorable impression. The Seattle National Bank gladly welcomes an opportunity to render an unusual service to any of its customers. The mere cashing of checks and receipts for deposits does not suffice as a standard of banking service. Do you know that this bank is prepared upon application to definitely arrange New York reservations in any one of the Bowman Hotels, one of the group of leading New York hotels? This is just an example of the exceptional character of our services. Try us the next time a financial problem arises. We shall deem it a privilege to assist you. Southeast Corner—Second Avenuo at Columbia Organized Over Forty Years Ago i } ies all