The evening world. Newspaper, September 23, 1908, Page 17

te ar _ The Evening World Daily by CUA me ive Mr. Bel, te nLo on tenon until every muscle prison wh » Was suppose ha vi ned John W. Cope as Marshfield Craven. heroine. Iren. If it “Yhe Highting Hope” ry Wins Out the Elev-nth Hour, ye CH. RLES DARNTON. slim for a h you were, y © the decision, Although “The Fight: | act or more at the Stuyvesant Thea- | iation at least before the second cur- ed strength, finally won out in the uman note, . Hurlbut, and {t stretched the long ached. Even Burton Temple's home at | ere Robert Granger was serving "time" to have committed. The simple geog- few to what might be sald and thought to walk to the window, And Granger's resident of the Gotham Trust Company in the guise of Miss Dale, secretary, ‘isn’t altogether a stranger. The Irritat- ing old housekeeper welcomed her as a dear friend of other days, Temple, too, was sure he had seen her somewhere she recognized him as the {deal man of her office building past. This is Indeed a small world when there are only five characters in a three-act play. And what is home without a thief in these stage days? We hay: to re- call Bernstein's parlor melodrama and the hard-up tale of a Harlem flat to realize what a thief !s worth to the playwright. Mr. Hurlbut has added a n cell, but he has been young-fash- enough to put it out of sight, if not out of mind, dust as, the play seemed to be con- ted from without, so Miss Blanche of the true wife and un- truthful secretary was purely external for a large part of last evening, The fault, however, was not hers. Ag Miss Dale she was there to discover evidence | of Granger's Innocence and Temple's | guilt, and as evidence of any sort was | a long time in turning up, she could only | wait and click out her emotions on the | typewriter, At first she seemed little more than @ stenographic copy of a| 1 could scarcely her heartfeit | share §nterest in her ¢ be true that children should be seen and not! heard, it is equally t At a great deal too much was heard about them last night. Your sin soon tired of the children, It was a relief to forget the mother § the secretary, who came to work in hipless brown satin, and moved about with a Kimono walk that recalled "The Darling of the Gods.” Meanwhile Miss Bates was & against time, She,’ Ilke the rest of us, hed to wait for som to | The play was as slender as herself, but it was by no means sc emotions that wer within he her ¢all "Mister T- ear cut, so high ready -m-p-]-e"" a for delivery You saw her bite her lips to keep ‘em down. coyly as ‘The Girl of the Go Tung. Miss Bates's face twitched with Doubts, fears, hopes were fighting And then you heard len West" might have done, and somehow or other the two-and-two of her characterization didn't make four. In oth and one f ‘was to com Usually a Belasco herotne poun this one pounded her husband. @ stage our did words, any big, Miss Bates saved her simple expression was lost in a hundred neaningiess trivialitles, But the moment of storm and ptresa)} , and Miss Bates was to make It porn with a white heat, is a door wh And Robert Granger deserved a deat! mn worst comes to worst, but strongth fer Part of !t was exhausted when the woman found a@ letter in which her husband Tevealed the fact ft was he who @bout the failure of the Gotham Trust Company, in The Lion and the Mou influence to spy upon him. » whe had And after sh had over-certified a check that brought Like the brash young woman entered the employ of the rich man of | he knew he loved her the discovery came | that he was innocent, and tha, her husband was guilty. The letter would clear @way the cloud of accusation over Temple's head, and save him from prison, But kt would p dren. effective than her put the everla¥ting brand heroics. And so ts, Bur at rate, the play nal the husband, “wrapy ped f proceeded to make up for lost time. 7 he learned that she knew of his guilt enfough, but the ch this out at the trial was almost b lights to keep off the mob It was a descend upon him. Buy th he had been supporting. The audience comedy, But a police the wife had enabled the Nounced! that an end had been pu Miss Bates flashe rit played the despicat ger so well leaving the theatre. Mr. though at hysterical, and Mr. Joh his best to save him from matrimony and imprisonment. ing housekeeper the character needs reforming. “The Fighting Hope” ta It Bets a trifle too “strong.” ‘ge that she was living with Temple and that he woutd bring yond human endurance, even with the foot- whistle put a stop to any further revelation vaitive to escape through @ window @ pistol shot an- to him, fanily in the Charles Richman made Temple entirely trustworthy Miss Loretta Wells did all that could be expected of her, but Its Plymouth Rock consalence !s not consistent. | is so well acted and it pyts up such a good fight| toward the end that {t easily takes rank as the strongest play of the season, In| on her husband, the father of her chil-| This last Miss Bates told by @ broken cry In the throat that was more the woman took from the safe the letter over which Temple was already hysterical with Joy, and burned it, | fire with this clash of right and wrong, this! ween two men at a critical moment But only a sp: In factythe scene almost missed fire, | arrived at something, in an overcoat and the lle that and with the coming of he had been pardoned, {t he coward's overtures to his é when and might testify against him were bad rellef to see Miss Bates's clenched fists t was not all. Through another letter that was dictated to the secre- | tary she learned that he had gtolen not for her, but for another woman whom hailed the Tenderloin allusions as true and after last act, and Mr. Howell Hansel | that you could forgive him only after in W. Cope, as confidential adviser, did As Temple's Interfer- | 49900060606 ra 3 A Revelation New York Meeeses (Copyrignt, 1407, by Robert W. Champeray GYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS INSTALMENTS, Capt. Philip Selwyn, of an old New York family. has resigned from the army because his wife, Ailxe, dlyorced him to marry Jack Ruthy & cotilion leader. Returning to New York, Selwyn frequently meets the Ruthvens, Alixe still secretly loves him, Ruthven ts luring young Gerald Erroll to gamble at, his house, Selwyn begs Allxe to prevent this, for the sake of Geral ter, Eileen. Ellen ts the swant of Selwyn's brother-in-law, Austin Gerard, Gerald, against Selwyn's advice, has been losing heavily gambling at Ruthven's house, Sol: ver @ doubtful land deai (pro- business partner) 008 to, ter, Nina Gerard, here he and chum (known ag MBoota”. ‘dine with Bliecn “ent” the Gerard ‘obit Eileen, persuades Selwyn to out- \dre' @ay the others, for @ chat with her, CHAPTER IV. (Continuea.) Mid-Lent. Their \ght-hearted laughter mingled Gelighttully—tresh, free, uncontrolled, Peal after peal, She sat huddled up Uke @ schoolgirl, lovely head thrown back, her white hands clasping her knees; he, both feet squarely floor, leaned forward, his laughter echoing hers. ‘What nonsense! What dlessed non- fense you and I are talking!" she sald, “but It hag made me quite happy. Now you may go to your club and Your mysterious man-talk"—~ ' “I don't want to"— “Oh, but you must!''—she was now * dismissing him—"because, although I am convelescent, I am a little tired, om tee maid in waiting to twek ee cee error eeransomene: iSonic 9 yeni tnd of Society “So you send me away?" “Send you"— She hesitated, delight- fully confused in the reversal of roles— Rot quite convinced of this new power which, of Itself, had seemed to Invest) her with authority over man. "'Y she sald, “I must send you away.” And her heart beat a little faster in her | uncertainty as to his obedience—then | leaped in triumph as he rose with a/ reluctance perfectly visible. “To-morrow,” she said, ‘I am to drive for the first time, In the evening I nay be permitted to go to the Grays’ mid-Lent dance—but not to dance much. Will you be there? Didn't they ask you? I shall tell Suddy Gray what I |think of him—I don't care whether it's for the younger set or not! Goodness me, aren't you as young as anybody! ‘Well then! So we won't see each other to-morrow. And the day after that—oh, I wish I had my engagement lst. Never mind, I will telephone you when I'm to be at home—or wherever I'm golng to be. But it won't be any- where in particular, because it's Lent, of course. Good night, Captain Selwyn; you've been very sweet to me, and I've enjoyed every single instant.” When he had gone, she rose, a trifle excited th the glow of abstract happi- ness, and walk@d erratically about, smiling to herself, touching and rear- ranging objects that caught her atten- tion. Then an innocent {natinct led her to the mirror, where she stood a mo- ment looking back into the lovely re- flected face with its disordered hair, “After all,” she sald, “I'm net a aged aa I pretended. is laughing at me now., But he was very, very nice to me—wherevar he has gone in quest of that ‘good time’ HEY are, “eT trying| to fright- en us again,” de- clared the Widow, taking a seat at! little corner | table In the Astor | grill-room “Who fs. trying to frighten you?" demanded the! Bachelor as he| helped the waiter | dispose of a pur-| ple parasol, a gilt chatelaina, a shopping bag, a lace cost, a bunch of violets and a feather boa, | “The—the authorities and things," ex- | plained the Widow. ‘They are talking of establishing a ‘Course of Courtship’ | in the pubiie schools. Just fancy throw- tng cold water on the divine fire ike !" and she waved her fork dra- matteally | “Dreadful!” agreed the Bachelor. “But I don't think you need bother about {t. Love-making, like poetry, is an Instinct, and lovers, Mke poets, grow wild; they can't be cultivated. rt ing is like cooking, You've got to be The Wid fooor DODOOAD Or born with the knack, It's a gift of Providence as unaccountable and in-| explicable as a straight nose or a good constitution. It's one of the things In which brains don't count and theory doesn't take the prizes; and all you need 1s—er—a little practice'’— “And If you're born with the knack,” refolned the widow, glancing up aide. wise under her hat, “you can’t help practising—I suppose. | “You ought to know,” retorted the) Bachelor promptly, "But {f you aren't born with the knack,” he continued hurriedly, “you can read Laura Jean Libbey and Duchess and all the ‘Guides to Lovemaking’ that ever were printed without learning how to be- in’? the “There isn't any reliable recipe for {t,"” explnined the Widow, “and you can only tell whether or not you have done \t properly by the way it turns out,” And the oftener vou try 1b the bellen| you do it,” appended the Bachelor. “And the less aman knows about lot- ters," continued the Widow, @ seems to know about women; the lese Intelligence and character he has, the more he appears to get of feminine adoration." TOOK the more | combination. TOO OOOO OOOU0U! oyster thoughtfully—'‘the less a woman knows about tha ologtes, the more she seems to Know about using her eyes and talking nonsense, the fewer talents she has, the better husband she gets. Put [ thought," he added, “that teach> men and women to understand one (nother was to be @ regular part of the new currlowlum.” “That's the saddest and—funntest part of {t,"" How can It be sad and funny at the same tie?” demanded the Bachelor. “Don’t you sea," explained the Widow, laying down her oyster fork, “how sad {t will be for the man and how funny it will be for the other people?—when ly wakes up?” “When he—what?" “Discovers how Uttle he knows,” @x- plained the Widow, “No man ever finds out how Ittle he knows about women intil he has married one of them. There sre just as many kinds of women as there are kinds of weather’’ dr Yale locks,” put in the Bachelor, d every one of them ts a different But," he continued, to be some general ‘there ought pules""— ‘There are,” agreed the Widow, ‘Just |as there are four seasons, but you've “Oh, well"—the Bachelor stabbed an! got to have lived through the seasons The Million Dollar Kid ‘AND You SHOT THAT You LOOK $0 HANDSOME IN HUNTING CLOTHES (LL Go OUT AND SHOOT THERE You are! T Tord You 1 WAS A QREAT HUN | POOR ES MAKE 1g a Gee!) Wish BREKER COULD SEE ME Now! SPEAK DISCUSSES LOVE-MAKING ow By Helen Rowland ~ < ~ ASA FINE ART. A HUNTER ALWAYS THE GIRLS! THIS Oar TOD) before you can understand them, and| to have lived with a woman before you| ‘an tell what—what's coming next. A| Hottentot can read a description of a snow storm without knowing how tt| feels, and a man can read all that ever was written about women and not know enough to avold asking his wife a ques- jtlon when her month fs full of pinst”’ “And a girl,” broke in the Bachelor, “can read all that ever was written about men and not know enough to avold hanging her husband's coat and vest upside down so that the things fall out of the pockets.” “Yes,” finished the Widow emphatical- ly, “one week of actual practice tn love- making or matrimony {s better than all the theorles that could be Invented by the most eminent board of education that ever existed. Why, what are you doing, Mr. Travers,” “Practising,” returned the Bachelor, boldly holding tight to the Widow's hand under the table, “The oftener you try {t, you know"’— “Anything more, air?” walter, suddenly table “There!” exclaimed the Widow, anatch- ing her hand away with flaming cheeks, “He saw us,” And he'll never believe,” sighed the Bachelor pathetically, “that it was only a phystological demonstration of chological theory!” By R. W. Taylor LLLP LLLP ALS ISLOR I, Interrupted the looming beside the $ A HIT WITH CINCH! To HIM In @ reverie she stood at the mirror considering her own flushed cheeks and brilliant eyes. “What a ourlously interesting man he {s,"" she murmured natyely. "I shall |telephone him that I am not going to that mi-careme dance. Besides, Suddy Gray 1s a bore with the martyred smile he's been cultivating, As though @ happy girl would dream of marrying ‘anybody with all life before her to | learn important things in! And that dreadful downy Scott Innis—trying to make mé Usten to him!—until I was ashamed to be alive! And Bradley | Harmon—ugh!—and oh, that mushy |widower, Percy Draymore, who got hold of my arm before I dreamed''— | She shuddered and turned pack into |the room, frowning and counting her \slow steps across the floor, “After all,” she said, ‘thelr silliness |may be their greatest mystery—but [ don't Include Capt. Selwyn,” she added loyally; “he ts far too Intelligent to be Ike other men." Yet, like other men, at that very mo- ment Capt. Selwyn was playing the flazing contents of a siphon upon the iced ingredients of a tall, thin glass which stood on a table in the Lenox Club. The governors’ room being deserted except by himself and Mr, Lansing, he continued the animated explanation of Dis delay in arriving. “Bo I stayed,” he sald to Boots with an enthusiasm quite boyish, “and I had a perfectly bully time. just as I wonder if he| clever as she can be—startling at mo-| forget {t, Roots! TI never half appreciated her—| | menta. me ne fomaty appealed to me in a dif young girl knocking at | and way—a Tela bls einartain te Sudar wieni'omm [tne dee ed the worlds end Wo matdat side shows. some day that girl is going to marry ot — "Great James!" faltered Mr. Lansing, “are you turning into a schatschen? Are you planning to waddle through | the world making matches for your friends? It you erg, I'm quitting you | right here.” “Its only beca' you are the de- centest man I happen to know,” sald Selwyn, resentfully. ‘Probably she'd turn you down, any way. But'— and he brightened up, “I dare say she'll | choose the best to be had; It's a pity though" — “What's a pity?” ‘That a charming, Intellectual, sen- | sitive, Innocent girl like that should be turned over to @ plain lump of a | man." “When you've finished your euloy on our sex,” sald Lansing, ‘‘'l) walk home with you.” "Come on, then; I can talk while I walk; did you think I couldn't?’ And as they struck through the first ed street toward Lexington avenue: “It’ that sort of a giri—so many surprisea in her—the charmingly unexpeoted and unsuspeoted|—the pretty flashes of wit the natve egotism which ls as amusing as It is harmless, I had no idea how complex she 1s. If you think you have the simple feminine on you hands, for she's as evanes- cent as @ hello-flash and as stunningly Jaminous as a searvilight. And here 4 privilege for @ fellow to know | Lansing had not seen jbeen a wit as or father to open for her and show her, doles out indigestible stuff to a kid, the gimoracks and the freaks and the using @ sort of guilty discrimination | ners. Do you know, Boots, that in the distribution.” “What on earth {s all this?’ de- somebody, and it worries me, knowing manded Lansing. ‘Are you perhaps non men as I do—unless you should think compos, dear friend “I'm trying to tell you and explain to myself that little Miss Erroll is @ rare and profoundly interesting spect- men of @ genus not usually too amus-| ing," he repMed with growing enthust-| asm, “Of cours, Holly Erroll was her father, and that accounts for some- thing; and her mother seems to have all as a beauty—which helps you to understand; but the brill- jancy of the result—aged nineteen, mind you-te out of all proportion; cause and effect do not balance. * * * Why, Boots, an ordinary man—I mean an everyday fellow who dines and dances and does the harmlessly usual about town, dwindles to anaemic {n- significance when oompared to that young girl en now when she’s prac- tically undeveloped—when her int mence {s like an unout gem atill tn th matrix of Inexperience’— “Help! said Boots feebly, attempt- tng to bolt; but Selwyn hooked arms with him, laughing excitedly, In fact his friend tn such excellent spirits for many, many months; and {t made him exceedingly ight-hearted, eo that he presently be- [ih to chant the old service canticle Dare another, he's just 4 bad, je almost drives me crasy"—— And arm in arm they swung into the dark avenue, singing “Barney Riley" tn resonant undertones, while overhead the hilly Mttle western stars looked down | I've deen doing the benevolent prig, be- through pallid convolutions of moving Owing meulety Won ber as & mag Slowde, aed the wind ln the geal! avenue grew keener on the street com “Cooler, followed by clearing,” ob- served Boots in disgust. “Ugh; it's the limit, this nipping, howling hemi- sphere.” Ard he turned up hia over coat collar, : “I preter {t to @ hemisphere that |smella like cheap joss-stick,” sald | Selwyn, “After all, they're about alike,” re- torted Boots—'‘even to the ladrones of |Broadstreet and the dattos of Wall. |e * © And here's our dally bungalow |now," he added, fumbling for his keys jand whistling “taps” under his breath. As the two men entered and started to ascend the stairs @ door on the par- lor floor opened and their landlady ap- peared, enveloped in a solled ortmson kimono and a false front which hed slipped aldeways. “There's the Sultana,” whispered Lan- sing, at you. Wig-wag her, Phil. speak to me? Oh!—to Capt. Selwyn: “It you please,” sald Mrs. Greeve, ominously, so Lansing continued up- ward Selwyn descended Mrs. Greeve waved him Into the icy parlor, where he presently found her straightening her “front” with work-worn fingers. Captain Selwyn, I deemed It my duty to set up in order to inform you of cer- tain specta! dotn's."” she sald, haughtily. “What ‘doings’? he inquired. “Mr. Erroll's, etr. Last night he evi- fentially found difficulty with the at and [ seen hint asleep fa when I ne down to answer the a-smokin’ a cigar that wasn't with his feet on the angelus.” as very, very sorry, Mra Greave, man, ‘and she's making styn-language | Oh!—go0d | evening, Mrs. Greeve; did you wish te | -- THE YOUNGER SET -- on the parlor | September 23, 1908. By Martin Green, The Steam Drill M: } PON a ridge of grit and rock, Where Nature's forces worked and died, The city’s growth spreads, blook by baock, S@:ed and greed race sds by atte, The skyline changes day by day, And men, aspiring, seem to sweep Superna! force from out thelr way, But, to butld high, they must dig deapd A quivering tripod set in atime, Throbbing with force from a distant pumps A hiss of alr, a wealth of grime, A creak of cars, bound for the dump, A rat-a-tat of steel on stone, A grinding, screaming, pounding smash, A fog of eteam, an exhaust groan, A steady, nerve exciting crash. The steam drill man puts in his blast And sets his wires and waves his handy The dirt-stained Ginnies flee, aghast Tt {a his time to take command, Up from the dynamite scarred hole They swarm in mud-bedaubed The eteam drill man, he takes a stro! ‘To watch things from across the way, Giuseppe tn the crowded street His red flag waves, with strident shouts “Hey! Back-a up, you! Make a beat! She come! Bo-o-om! Da blas! Ho-ey! Look-a outt® Tho ekyline changes day by days The steam drili man plays his big part; The towers that brush the clouds away \ Depend on him to get thelr start, Observations. { I > T makes the Subway guard sore to hear you say: “Running a little slow this morning because there {s a fog in the Subway, eh? Ha, ha, hawt™ It makes the bartender sore to hear you say: “Gee, you ought to be strong in the arms and back from shaking drinks all the time.” It makes the street-car conductor sore to hear you say: T'd rather give this nickel to you, but I suppose I am giving it to the company.” What makes you sore when you hear it, gentle reader? (P. 8.—Answers reading “Your stuff in The Evening World,” or sim- ilarly, will not be considered, because we beat you to it.) POBHHHOHHHDDODHODHOHHOHOGHOHHDHSAGHHHOOS DOQOOOOS: Advice to Raw Youths. By Hiram Hall. ODOHODOOSODDO, (00000 G00 GUG0U0D00000000000000000000000000, BAP YHAR are flatter- ing, but remem- ber the old poem about needles and pins. If it begins to look like a mate in thre moves, upset the board, Marriage ts a lottery—a lot o' responsibility. Q Bachelorhood, however, seema to be « rain check. Let a girl know you feel jilted and she is often your keenest sympathizer, To & wholesome, intelligent woman there {s nothing Uke rubbing it in, Save your extravagances for “after- wards;" the pace is killing for the more dirigible angels. Never stoop to count her fillings when she is yawning; it's time to go. Court plasters no sign of @ bite; there's a rule: A little plaster for the complex- lon's sake, It's no errand of mercy to Gras ta Ught beirpins and sidecombs from sofa crevices. ‘The wiser the man the simpler the trick and the harder the fell. he sald—‘‘and so is Mr. Erroll, He and T had @ little talk to-day, and I am | estonished. eure that he will be more careful here- after,” “There is cigar holes burned into the carpet,” insisted Mre. Greeve, “and a mercy we wasn't all insinuated in our beds; one window-pane broken and the was a blue an’ whistlin’ streak with the ourtins blowin’ into ft an’ @ strange cat on to that satin dosy-do,” “All of which,” sald Selwyn, “Mr. Prroll will make every possible amends for, He ts very young, Mrs. Greeve, and very much ashamed. I am sure, 80 please don’t make {t too hard for him.” She stood, little slippered feet planted sturdtily in the first position In danc- ing, fat, bare arms protruding from the kdmono, her work-stained fingers linked together in front of her. With a sotled thumb she turned @ ring on her third finger, “I atn't a-goin’ to be mean to no- body,” whe sald; “my gentlemen !s al- ways refined, even it they do sometimes | forget thelrselves when young sporty. Mr. Brroll ts now a-bed, si and asieap ike a cherub, foe havi deen served three times with te Is, you be good enough t extra. Would mention the bil! to him in the morn: Ing?—the grocer bein’ sniffy.” And she handed the wadded and Inky mem dum of damages to Selwyn, who pock- eted It with a nod of assurance. ran ded, following door, “a lady here to see you twice, leavin’ no name or Inter tions otherwise th. dusiness affal of @ pressin’ nature. A—lady repeated, halting sho on the stairs Young an’ refined, allowin’ tor [ wutomodie veth’* By Robert W. Chambers, Author of ‘‘The Firing Line” and “A Fighting Chance.” { ‘When a «irl swears she could die aat- ‘mg chocolate sodas {t {s.timely to ad- vise abstemiousness. ‘Twtoe told tales of love-are worse than fresh candy in an old box. A friend in weeds is often a friend with needs, ‘When « girl smiles before you've fin- fahed a folce sometimes she's only won- dering {f she left any powder on her nose, Pet names are all very well, but it'e best to exhaust the French and Ger- man and use up some of the plantation conveniences before beginning on the straight New Yerk. Tt only suggests, anyway, that’ her right name {s monotonous, Think how yeu would like to have some sport start oalling your mother Jake or*Rilly, In advertising for a wife alwaye stipulate as fellows: Bride to furnish minister, canopy and flower girta, Then sign yourself T. Beaumont Vanderquiff, or the Itke, It’s nice te have the trim. mings tally with the general osloe soheme. It you cant possibly stand her sing. fms any longer, have another datey dont say you're ill, “She—she asked for met he repeated, “Yes, sir, She wanted to see your rooms, But havin’ no orders, Capt. Bele wyn—although I must eay she was that polite and tadylke, and,” added Mra Greeve irrelevantty, “a art rocker come for you, too, and another for My, Lans aing, which I placed in your respective ttin' rooms.” “Oh,” said Selwyn, laughing in relief, t's all right, Mrs, Gresye. The lady who came {s my sister, Mrs, Gerard; and whenever she comes you are to admit her whether or not I am here,’ “She said whe might come egain,” nodded Mrs. Greeve as he mounted the stairs; “am I to show her up any time she comes?” Jertainly—thank you,” he called back “and Mr. Gerard, too, {f he calls." He looked into Boots’s room as he passed; that gentleman, in bedroom cos+ he called out, “and ¢ dinky chalr somebody sent y rooms when ypu're and closed the door miling and turning away toward » he entered, the length of the said, however, he hall and cau of Ue! ’ ted a matoh 5 where he ng his pillows, he reclosed the a sound, w & | door and withdrew to Dis apartment. (Te Be Continued.) ‘ ren ceo