The evening world. Newspaper, October 15, 1908, Page 17

By Lillan Bell. 8K any man A you know whether the word “nag = 1a) masculine or fem nine, and in every cage he will say ferninine. Ask any marriod woman what she thinks, and see how often it will come out that ha @ nagger some hus- bands play a lone hand and = score twenty every time, (1 played euchre in the country this summer). I do not deny that women soold and Often scold needlessly, partly from habit or because of their nerves, but when a man begins to find fault with his wife, he starts in on the grocery bills runs gayly through the faults of the wok, which he blames on nis wife; touches lightly on her delinquencies as a mend- er, darner, buyer, spender; pointe out Lor faults as wife and mother and winds up with a resume of the domestic situ- ation which for fluency and versatility can seldom be equalied and never ex- celled. Do men nag? Do some of them ever do anything else? ‘And the worst of {t 1s that their wives gre sc used to it and so patient under it that the nagging continues. Why con't you rise up, women? Nag- ging {s a woman's privilege! Why allow the men to trample on us and usurp our rights? 1 Do Some of Them Ever Do Anything Else? The Evening World Daily Magazine, Thurs day, 15, 1908. Men are always afraid to open more doors to women, for fear that we will crowd them out of their jobs. Let them have a care, when they take to scolding, that they are not atanding in one of our open doors and crowding us out of our birthright. For women are born regulators and | men are not. That is one reason why men are affaid to let us have the bal- lot. They Know that instend of talking about things, but never doing anything, we will start in and gayly usher in some reforms which will make our “gentle- men friends" sit up ana take notice. ‘Then, if they want to nag, they will BULL PUP “To TA HOME. @|® have something to nag about. Instead of taking it out on a wife who tas nothing tu do all day but sweep and wash and fron and mane beds and tend to the children and go to market and order the coal and tend to the ohitdren, | and sew on buttons and darn stockini and turn old clothes and tend to the «i fidren, and trim rchool hats and patch | table clotha and answer the telephone and tend to the children, and run up and | yynataiis, and answer the doorbell | and dust the parlor, and run the sew- {vg machine, ant see callers and tend to the children, and send for the plumbers, | end correct mistakes in the bills and tend to the children, and dress taste- fully for dinner, so as to be pleasant and sweet to husband when he comes | home and begins to tell her that, if she would only stop gadding and more money in a day than he can make in-a week, they would get on in the | (Rorld, they might find food for thought | in other lines. And it he talks for an hour or so in | this strain, it cheers up a wife after hor | fdle day in @ surprising manner. Try nagging, you men. It does won- ders for the nerves of a tired wife. And shows what a fine, spirited chap you are! Surplice Over Waist.—Pattern ew te Optain These Pattern, ways specify size wanted. A Revelation of New York Society (Copyright, 1007, by Robert W. Chambers.) SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS INSTALMENTS, Capt, Philip Selwyn, of an old New York mmily; has resigned from the army because | fe wife, Alixe, divorced him t9 marry’ Jack | Returning meets Tove bor tucnven, itilion I to nih the him: | ly 4 beKs hve te Juring “vo: is house 8 Tor the. bak na that Eileen her brother ‘One. evening | ‘stormy this and hears. of owing G threaten to gimbie again wyn's busine estute deal 60 ne from the firm n eftort ferald’s dissipation wryn at sacrifice of. D. his own fune, saves (he iad from financial ding Then, for ® holiday. Selwyn visits the A country pla 8 He and Bo trout fis) CHAPTER VIII. (Continued) Silverside. walked over to him and looked | the beautiful victim of es notorious. sel side. ther. HE craft "Oh, well,’ she sighed, clever, of course, and eat him; but I wish again, down there in those cool, depths.” “Killing frogs and emailer brother fish?" “Did he do that? “No doubt of it, And if 1 hadn't landed him, @ heron or a mink wo' have done it sooner or later. ‘That's what @ trout 18 for: to kill and be kiiled."” She smiled, then sighed. The taking of life and the giving of it were mys- eries to Wer, She had never wittingly Deed say Ung you are very I suppose I'll he were alive sweet insects and his Call or send by mail to THE EVENING WORLD MAY MAN- TON FASHION BUREAU, No. 183 Hast Twenty-thied street, New York. Send 10 cents in coin or stamps ¢or each pattern erdered. IMPORTANT—Write your name amd addreer plaialy, snd ab |ance, and once more turned her back. URPLICB atyles most fashion | able of the incom- | ing season, This | over blouse is sim- ple, graceful and | novel in one, and 1s adapted to @ great variety of materials, All eat- in finished fabrics are promised great “THEY START ACROSS TNE FERRY. You SET‘ (Oy Pty THE PUP MANES FRIENDS WITH THE BAGGAGE MAN , TT a Pf FF | vogue for the autumn, however, and the model ts made of messaline satin with — trim- ming of chiffon velvet and sou- tache. The softly draped girdle 1s} 100 Young for Blach. attached to the | Dear Betty: lower edge and the| 7] HAVE a young daughter eighteen closing is made at years old, of slight build, who the left of the wishes to dress in black silk and to front, and side and | wear a dozen American Beauty roses front olosings/and to attend a concert in this dress, make notable ea-/| which ts against my wishes. I am led tures of the sea-/|to believe that she wishes to dress as son, above at the suggestion of her gentle- The quantity of/man friend. I woul! like to know material required | whether I am justified in not wanting for the medium | her to dress all in black, ANXIOUS. size is 2 yards 21.) 1 think your daughter 1s too young to 24 or ¥i, or 1 yard | dress in black, as that color ts generally 4 inches ~—_—wide, | reserved for older women. Can you not with 1 yard 27 n-| persuade her that black 1s unbecoming ches wide for the | to ner and that instead of adding she is trimming and &1t-| Getracting from her attractions? dle. 3 Waitt for Him. last two years, during which time Pattern 6103 | he has paid a goou jeal of attention to me only and has Invited me to many places of amusement, treating mo very | nicely at all times. He is of good char- | acter. Recently he has told me that he loves me and asked me to be en- gaged to him, adding that he would R20: cut in three sizes; emall, #2 or CH aeretl medium, 36 or HAVE known a young man for the large, 40 or 4 fnohes No. 6103, bust measure. 00 0000000000000000000000000000000000 0000000000000) On Qourtship « Marriage DODODOGHBOGOOOOO Betty Vincent | not be able to marry me for a couple Gives Revice of years as he ts the only support of|to whether you deem it advisable for| seem lon; his mother and sister; and he does not Present feel financially strong enough to give me a good home and et the same time assist his mother and sister. I know this question of support to be true. I love him very much and I woukl be glad to have your advice as CODOGIDOODOODOGHHOGDOOQHOGOHGOHOOGDDGDHPHOGHOGHHGOSGHOS) me to wait for him, I am twenty-one and he is one year my senior. J. K As you are both so young and love| each other there ls no reason why you should not walt until the young man ts financially able to give you home. Two or three years will not SPELL OUT THE NAMES OF THE DIFFERENT OBJECTS--THEN ADD AND SUBTRACT AS INDICATED, WHAT IS THE RESULT + wo? a good! and the young man shows {hte he ts of good character to think of his mother as well as you. | Friends for Five Years. | Dear Betty: HAVE been keeping company with & young lady for five years. I make $2 a week. Do you think it te Draper for us to get engaged, as I am twenty-seven and she twenty-two? J. B. You ere both old enough to marry, and @s you have known each other for | #0 long @ time there ts no reason why you should not propose to the young girl if you love her. Drowsy Suitor, Dear Betty: AM engsged to a handsome man, | who appears to love me, but when the calls on me evenings he has a great habit of going to sleep on the ‘ouch. Do you think he really loves me for myself or that he 1s merely looking for a home? ANXIOUS. Evidently your flance !s not very deep- ly interestéd in you. Cannot you make your oonversation more interewting to him? If he does not evince more in- terest In you, I advise you to break the engagement, as I do not think you will be happy with him October By Martin Green, The Universal Query. 8 the sun, fn his course, takes a southerly route, the afternoon shadows north; As the milkman, at dawn, crunches frost underfoot And the camphor-spiced “benney” comes forth; As the awnings come down and the storm-doors go up, And the buckwheat adds blossom apace; | As the suffragette clamors to put in her vote, | And the peek-a-boo walst takes its place With the faded straw hat And the many-hued sock, Then this ts the wail That goes up from each block THEY EVER TURN ON THE STRAM And Al swing WILL HEAT? As the open street car runs for Sween. or lesa, And the hot roasted chestnut tastes fine; As the sausage comes out from {ts long summer Test, And the cold storage egg gets tn line; As the candidates shout from the street corner stands, And the silent vote makes not a sound: As the chasing of rainbows grows widespread in- deed, And Roosevelt holds his ear to the ground In the hope that he'll hear That which may dispel doubt, Then all that he gets Is this thunderous shout: WILL THEY EVER TURN ON THE STBRAM HEAT? A Fantasy. N Coney Island’s closing night ) But our regret we may well stay— We watched, with more| 75 chill and drear down by the sea; than mild regret, Dhanlighte werthouen The myriad lghts that e lights we thought imprisoned there Are still refulgent, clear and free. Their rays spread softly through the weeks Had made each tower and minaret A blazing finger, pointing to the span- o'er scenes: Just as gay; gled sky. penn ; We watched those lights turn fi ‘or when we thought they'd died at white to crimson Coney Isle And then die. ‘The other day— And darkness took the place of light. |They’d simply shifted to Broadway, The Manhattan Primer. HAT have we here, un-der the man-tel, in our co-zy six rooms and bath? Do you re-fer to the ding-us with pale green whis-kers de-pend-ing there-from? B-ven so. That 18 a mod-ern n-ven-tion known as a gas log. For what pur-pose is it de-signed? It 1s de-signed and in-stalled for the dou-ble pur-pose of mak-ing heat and burn-ing gas. And does it ful-fil tts pur-poset Par-tial-ly. It burns gas. It must look com-fort-a-ble when it 1s lit up. True. And some of the holes fail to light, which re-sults in flood-ing your dom-t-clle with large quan-t!-ties of per-fect-ly good gas. Why 1s it called a gas log? There are two rea-sons. The first {¥ be-cause our an-ces-tors, know-ing the. gas man not, burned logs in their fire-places. The gas log is a sub-ati-tute for the log. ‘The wec-ond rea-son 1s be-cause when you ght your gas log your me-ter reg- {s-ters the gas con-sumed af-ter the fash-on of a log of a steam-ship, by nau-tl- cal miles “Do you say that ft doesn’t hurt the trout?” she asked. “There are no nerves in the jaw muscles of a trou Hah!" as his rod twitched &nd swerved under water and his reel sank again. And again she watched the perform- Scale yet—partioularly you." “Well, I've advanced some since the good old days when a man went woo- ing with a club," he suggerted. “You may have. But, anyway, you dont go wooing. As for man collec- Uvely he has not progressed so very far," she added demurely, “As an ex- ample that dreadful Draymore man actually hurt my wrist.” Selwyn looked up quickly, a shade of frank annoyance on his face and @ vision of the fat sybarite before this eyes. He turned again to his fishing, bus his shrug was more of a shudder than appeared to be complimentary to Percy Draymore. She had divined, somehow, that tt annoyed Selwyn to know that men had importuned her, Bhe had told him of her experience as innocently as she had told Nina, and with evqn less embar- rassment, But that had been long ago; 4nd now, without any specific reason, she was not certain that she had acted wisely, although it always amused her to see Selwyn's undisguised impatience whenever mention was made of such “Let me try," she sald, when the coup-de-grace had been administered to @ lusty, brilliant-tinted bull-trout. And, rod in hand, she bent breathless nd intent over the bushes, cautiously thrusting the tip through @ thicket of mint. She lost two fish, then hooked a third—a small one; but when she lifted it gasping into the suniight, she shiy- ered and galled to Selwyn: “Unhook tt and throw it back! simply can't stand that!" Splash! went the astonished trout; and she sighed her relief. ‘There's no doubt about it,'' she sald, "you and I certainly do belong to different species of the same genus; men and women are separate species. Do you deny it?” I-1 “I should hate to lose you that way,” | Incidents, he returned teasingly. So, to torment him, she said: “Of Well, you can't avoid tt. I gladly | course, it 1s somewhat exciting to be asked to marry peopl than otherwise’— “What!” Waist deep in bay-bushes, he turned toward her where she sat on the trunk of an oak which had fallen across the stream, Her arms balanced her body; her ankles interlocked. She swung her slim russet-shod feet above the brook and looked at him with @ touch of gamin, new to her and to hin admit that woman is not too closely rather agre@ble related to man. We don't like to kill things; It's an ingrained distaste, not merely a matter of ethical philosophy You Ike to kill; and {t's # trait com- mon also to children and other pre- datory animals. Which fact,” she add- ed alrily, “convinces me of woman's higher clyiiization.”* “It would convince me, too," he said, “if woman didn't eat the things thet man kills for her." “Of course it’s amusing to be told you “I know; isn't it horrid! Oh, dear,!are the only woman in the world,” she We're melther of ue Very Bigh Im the paid, “perbivuinny when & git hus © 4 | malice in proce: secret fear that men don’t consider her quite grown up,” “You once said,” he began impatiently, “that the idiotio importunities of those men annoyed you,” “Why do you call them !diotict’—with of burt surprise, “A girl is “Oh, bosh!"" Saptain Selwyn!” “I beg your pardon,” he said sulkily; and fumbled with his reel. She surveyed him, head a trifle on one side—the very incarnation of youthful of satisfying a desire for tormenting, Never before had she experienced that desire so keenly, so unreasoningly; never before had she found such @ curious pleasure in pun- ishing without cause. A perfectly inex- plicable exhilaration possessed her—a @ayety quite reasonless, until pulse in her seemed singing with laugh ter and quickening with the desire for his torment “When I pretended I was annoyed by what men sald to me, | was only a yearling,” she observed. “Now, I'm two-year, Captain Selwyn, * * * Who can tell what may happen in my sec- ond season?” “You said that you were not the—the marrying sort,” he insisted “Nonsense. All girls are. Once I sat in a high chalr and wore a bib and bangueted on cambric tea and prunes I don't do it now; ‘I’ve advanced, It's probably part of that progress which you are 80 opposed to." He did not answer, put stood, head bent, looping on a new teader ‘All progress is admirable,” she sug weonted No answer fey Ww eyes bbs every | “There are men,” she sald dreamily, “who might hope for a kinder reception next winter’ — "Oh, no," he said coolly, “there are no such gentlemen. If there were you wouldn't say 80," “Yes, I would. And there you are!”’ “How many?" jeeringly and now quite reassured, ‘One!"" “You can't frighten me"’—with a shade less confidence. “You wouldn't tell if | there was.” 'd tell you.” “Me?"—with @ sudden slump tn his remaining stock of reassuran “Certainly, I tell you and Nina things of that sort. And when I haye fully de- elded to marry I shall, of course, tell |you both before I inform other people.” How the blood in her young veins was racing and einging with jaughter! How thoroughly she was enjoying some- thing to which she could give ngither reason nor name! But how satisfying it |all was—whatever ft was that amused her tn this man’s uncertainty and tn the faint traces of an Irritation as unrea- soning as the source of it! Really, Capt. Selwyn," she said, are not one of those old-fashioned iiter- ary landmarks who object through a eral chapters to @ girl's marrying "you are he said; “I am." "You are quite serious | "Quite. "You won't let me?’ No, I won't | “whyt" “1 want you myself,” he said, smiling Jat lest | Phat is Mattering fut horridiy seit fee AB vines Were yee mee marty - THE YOUNGER SET -- me and you won't let anybody else do it" “That 1s the situation,” he admitted, freeing his line and trying to catch the crinkled silvery snell of the new leader. It persistently avoided him; he lowered the rod toward Miss Erroll; she gingerly imprisoned the feathered fly between pink-tipped thumb and forefinger and looked questioningly at him “Am I to sit here nolding this?’ inquired. “Only @ moment; 1'll have to soak that leader. Is the water visible under that log you're siting on?” She nodded. she So he made his way through the brush toward her, mo. te log, |and, seating himself beside her, legs dangling, thrust the rod tip and leader straight down into the stream helow neing around at her he caught her eyes, bright with mischtef. “You're capable of anything to-day, he said. “Were you considering the advisabii ity of starting me overboard?" And he nodded toward the water beneath their | feet Hut you say that you won't let me throw you overboard, Capt, Selwyn!" 1 mean it, too,” he returned, And I'm not to marry that nice young man? ackingly sweet. "No? What!—not anybody at all—ever and ever Me," he suggested, ‘If you're as th hly demoralized as that Must a girl be pretty thoroughly yrallzed to marry you 1 don't supp she she wasn't," he She considered him, he side You » roamental, anyway,” she sencinded . By Robert W. Chambers, Author of ‘‘The Firing Line’ and “A Fighting Chance.” “Well, then,” he said, lifting the leader from the water to inspect it, “will you bave met” unsafe, but yet you've managed to es- cape. Is that it?” “Perhaps, You are attractive to women! I've heani that often enough to be convinced. Why, even I can seo what attracts them'—she turned to look considered very useful when I'm mental- | at him—"the way your head and shoul- ly perplexed." | ders set—and—well, the—rest. * * * It'p “It's clipped too close; I have told you | rather supertor of me to have escaped 4gain and again that I don't care for tt | sentiment, don't you think so?” clipped like that. Your mind would bea| ‘Indeed I do. Few—few escape where perfect blank if you couldn't get hold | many meet to worship at my frisky feet, of tt” ‘ land thie I say without concelt is duo to my moustachios, Tangled in those, Mke wed-tied files, imprisoned hearts Joomplain tn sighe—!n fact, the si “Oh, but ts there nothing to recom- mend you except your fatal beauty?’ My mustache,” he ventured; “it's ‘And to become imbecile," I've only to shave it.” She threw back her head and her clear Jnughter thrilled the silence. He laughed | Ves with moments tn Bocoaccto, too, and sat with elbows on his thighs, | “Because,” she said, “you are so un- dabbling the crinkled leader to and fro | conscious of your own value, I ike you Ir (Sr Sy | best, I think. I never before quite re- 0 you won't have me? he said, _| #ilxed Just what it was in you." You haven't asked me—have yours | “My value” he said, “is what he said, you “Well, I do now,” care to make it.” She mused, the amile resting lightly bea nobody oan afford to take you Bavilcatana tae away from me, Captain Selwy: | “Wouldn't such @ thing estonieh|, 2° Sushed with pleasure, ‘that te ly. ontsh | tne prettiest thing a woman ever aA Ho did not answer; a alight “You have said nicer things to me. | \Unged the new sunburn on his o That is your reward. I wonder tf you She laughed to herself, clasped remember any of the nice things you hands, crossed her slender feet and|say to me? Ob, don't look so hurt and | cent her eyes on the pool below. astonished—because I don’t believe you |" “Marriage,” ehe said, pursuing her|do. * * * Isn't it Jolly to alt here and {thought aloud, ‘1s curiously unneces.| let !ife drift past us? Out there tn th |yary for happiness, Take our pleasure| World'—she nodded backward toward neers eae nartactin ies is whirling around the world, and \from illineas and sentiment." ore we sit~Just and I~quite hep Naturally," he said. “I'm old enough | Pi: #wingins feet in perfect con | tent and ta nonsense, # © ¢ 1 Be ante What more is there after all than a | “You are not!" she retorted. “What! compantonship that adinite both senso |e ridioulous thing to say! henyccrenerys “Welk, ten," be sadd, ‘i'm dreadtully (Te Be Continued) pf