The evening world. Newspaper, December 12, 1908, Page 9

a | | ng World Daily The Eveni -s, Iiske Believes She Will Never Produce 2 & Draimatic Failure, % PEW By Charles Darnton. wise woman knows het If you have never dis- sia that oWn min covered her, you have still to meet Mrs, Fiske. Seck her not in the automobile parade, along the fur- | trimmed avenue, at the steam- heated “reception,” nor at the Indi- gesiible afternc te She is never found outside the theatre~ if she can help it fo find her there in a mood as bright as the afterncon sun {Itself makes you believe that salvation is free, even if “Salvation ell’ isn’t Another Mrs, Fiske, older yet equally gracious, offers you her chair as she rises to go. A ripple of laughter runs along the window seat in the little “office” of the Hackett Theatre and with it cbmes: | “Mother says ‘Be seated,’ because she is trying to show off. She means down,’ don’t you, mother?” The older Mrs. Fiske stands corrected, but only for a moment. While the laughter i warm she says “Good afternoon,” and takes with her young Mr. hoe author of “Salvation Neil”. And now the woman who knows her mind gives you a piece of it , ‘Sit Shelton, ae Jindifference of the public toward the Saw Poeiry in Tt. stage. Rut it has always been #0, more An hour after I had read the play] or less, I fancy, don't you? In Kemble's T accepted !t." she s the wiite|/ day and Garrick's, no less than in our | flowe on her lack turban dding | own, complaint was made about vul- confirmation garity of taste, and in Sheridan‘s time Like others who are ask @ ques-| the same struggle went on between the tlon, you are curlous yw what! good and the bad. I cannot see that prompted her to Salvat n| conditions have changed." Nell." You attempt to set up the fact that!” It was the 5 a he play that|at any rata t is ts the day of the real- appealed to ma most of what some | istic play, but Mrs. Fiske meets | of the reviewers and to have missed altogeth truth of Mr. Sheidon’s p) y others seem | Of course the ay, {ts fatthtul arguments with | I'm not sure I belleve even that; When I was @ girl ther put on very| ‘realism’—to use a stock term—impressed| realistic plays, and I have seen many! ORO OO CO SE A Sr oy ib late Boo io iin Gag cai Gres, agatha when my decision was made. The trath,| tions. Do you remember paki es: ork bul AeWianlitualiten ce lSalvas|xemenbar sone o: eral piritua Salva-|Temember tt as one of Mr. Palmer's! with an eagerness that really amounts on me at o I fail to|most wonderful productions. In my to enthusiasm. the spiritual s between wee that the « The jereesie etw 14 in tt nave]opinion he was greatest manager power and that Alabama’? [each day I look forward to my | | | Magazine, £8 DEHSSOSOTSESLOSSOOSPOLILT LOLDERSE SHTYPECETESSHBHS 4 ESC GHBCHGODHPHESOD IONE nother Because She {Is True to Herself. ® @SRGVOHS LEDROOVESSHSHBSE SHS SOD HSOOSTSS PHHSODPGSE PDO PHGRESHDGEBDOCESPODPOBS FISKE 2.5 oe greater power than !ts poetry, and I am|th’s country has ever known—I don't : poor dumb brute Jim seems as com- glad t ha alled a ‘Divine|think America has ever appreciated boning « s tt di S i” Gomeayiotl nels for that! iel'what) How |Great he|wassl Somehow tel missed |Deune cvery. Tent 88 tt (aid) the) Brat, f SALVATION WELL icine oe Me Daly wed |The love scene tn the last act between Se me ee ee ta Tecantion ME Daly Rot. che woman who has come to realize | matinee to find the house so packed | voureelf canght in a trap of to be “shocked” by the brutal facts of|tTuer to the sentiment of the past.” “net Ife means and the big, unde- {that he couldn't get hia nose In the door 8 as ar Rivelcuscianalcan olan lisaiaithi veuten odie theluexticuesttonlistriieslithelhour==|Mqcoee moon chencim cna Jim | He looked so surprised, I was told, that | has tau, $, anc at you, as she says: PON MON the play of to-day [1 consider one of the most exquistte! my amusement over the incident fas | yourself with the questton: arena pata MilinWalinersennm nolicn 1 belleve in to-day and fn living upto! ‘788 n modern dramatic Mterature. never let me forget It.” How would you avoid the first-nlght Selateokealla’s anvicatey stent erica Burs lskolcceapondts’ lvAren) ithe) Eun trie ound) ex ravemazin QUAL | Ateaiimiaice) a ened interenten) in tie ey Daalia else ; , Macter! eet : paal eel tt Is so. And that is why now | subject of first-night reform. “Let's talk | zy, essay on ‘Sincerity’ and the Old Testa- | Provlem ho which men and women) ip0, ms. act the meat inte! *y 1 seaida ceeed navent phocked nie and eo T dont {are struggling to-day of: more interest | ‘Tat My acting on the fret night of the about that,” she proposes. She is willing Fin Unoveidable Evil, aaa ata tishealalvelsicarcdloe is to us than those contained In ‘Electra’ did Mr. Sheldon a great injustice. /to talk about anything but herself. really don't know,” she confesses eal Noni (ao 2 and other plays that deal with things je wasn’ iat allanol 43 When your question draws near to | ot be falrer to all con- vera de k id have been, I mean. You must) ghe hurries away from ft. Clicie! goes ¢ ts of first- Her smile goes on a laughing holiday, | teed and # To-day, like the poor, y, Rovarnraniatoiit Bho DUE ene : bie but tn the heat breath she is cs aeriong|‘S Mave with us, And why shouldn't|fa popes ne ce Nmele Peautl-| the lock on her tongue, and you find | aces and Jet the criti reaih Jous b © ful poetry the poor h ‘@ a place in our pl: ” r# a x, ee ar oh = aT Recording An ur plays as ee onie : _ Lidia never shocked by the simple|®¢l! #8 In our hearts? ‘They are much Riou Hever only, (eiipay tae’ Zour sol lowed ft on the first night with a smile on your Ips and a few nights a lump in your throat to hav claim: ore eresting than comfortable people.” The Poor Lo Not Pose. the truths of Ife,” she adds, her eves shin- well-to-do, ing through her black veil | two stars, “though I must confess we were ter with ke her ex- | all shocked the other night when sey-| \., | aC) eal fashionable, middle-aged women In] i 01, “.juoment you listen to ner Ker Bad First Nights. | leliioxmanehochthemblormillistrionsitame | iicenenaes | “Oh, please say that in print: It justl- | : fiyvplainiy showed ‘ther were more] “lf We have our tragedies they are| fen Mr. Sheldon and it helps to ex-| Stuffed Tenderloin. than half intoxicated. This has been the | USUally of our own making, due to our onerate me, I usually fail to bring out) pyROCURE a pork only ‘shocking’ incident connected with| Vanities, our selfishness or our fan- the best in a play at a first-night per- Pee re ton ‘Salvation Nell tasies, But the tragedics of the poor! formance. 1 don't know why—it's not CARICOM OHI OT; Tt is on fa short step from “soclety’ tre real. People who are always cold nervousness wholly, nor consciousness stale crumbs high! : Hints for the Home seasoned with salt, TOO. bladed knife (40 not plerce with a fork), and allow Kk another five or elght minutes, If the hent 1s just right upper surface will remain perfectl at the end of eight minutes, and after being turned the other to the slums, but you learn that Mrs,|/! Winter ana hungry most of the time of the mechanics of acting—I Aon't pepper and sage. Roast {n usual man-| main the same. When the ANC ithe Fiske did not go to them for “atmos-[ know life in all its hard reality, and | know what it is. Some actors are waid|ner, and serve with potatoes roasted meat ooze out the steak is rulned Dish phere.’ they face it as best they can. There Is to be particularly good on first nights, | in wan with meat, brown gravy, and the steak on a hot platter and pour over she answers, “but I know New |!0 pose about them. But the rest of | put I simply can't do my best for some|apple sauce. it the fat from the skillet. Serve on York, and I know something about the|¥Ss consciously or otherwise, affect. reason or other. That's why it is unfatr | Fi warm plates plums. T've often gone to ‘Titttle Italy" |some kind of pose, We can’t help it.” to have criticism based on a first-night | English Beefsteak. ; Wi in the summer time. It 1s like Naples—| This from perhaps the only wholly | performance. It’s unjust to the author, | HEN a steak is broiled over the Broiled Quail With Bacon. the sights, the sounds, and last Rut not |unaffected actress on our stage is ato the public and to the critics them- pa the ead fat is lost. When a IPE six quail carefully with a datwnp least the smelis, Mut tt was not neces- {confession good for anybody's soul. selves. I remember what a wretched | eee etieantoalin\aliee einiiet tie cloth, but do not wash; spilt sary to go to the slums for the sake of |You associate her sympathy for the | failure ‘Becky Sharp’ was on {t® first | yitchen is filled with smoke. The Eng them, bones and ‘Salvation Nell.’ A little imagination |under-doz with her love for “Salvation | night. The critics quite truthfully sald | ish method avoids both the above con- Season With a mixture of salt, pepper goes a long way in the realistic drama, | Nell,” but she smilingly assures you that things had gone wrong, and we | aitions and gives a better result. Have |and best salad off, the oll being an abso- The stage takes a broad view of life.” |that you are wrong again. were so thoroughly convinced that the n At the same time, you suggest, the) “Sympathy had nothing to do with) play was beyond all hope that we got,an inch and a half th Ask | a porterhouse steak cut from an Inch to the public may seem narrow-minded. it,” she insists, “As I have said, it was together the very next day and dis-| butcher to add a plece of clear suet two the poetry of the play that appealed to | cussed plans for a new production. But! {inches square. Shape tle steak to fit Public Coo Broad-Minded, /\° VS ge he hae tas. ‘ ¥ about Mr. to our surprise the public kept coming ne skillet, placing the suet In the centre “Not at all,” declares Mrs. Fiske. neldon at all, for I Sonsider him a/!n constantly increasing numbers, and. as nearly as possible. Have the fire should be inclined to say {t !s too broad-| genius. I don’t belleve ore is the| before the end of the week we found moderate but steady, and when the skil- minded, or, rather, too broad in its |result of observation, I don't belleve he! ourselyes with an enormous success on | jet !s hot enough to sizzle sharply care- tastes, The suggestivencss of many | observes things—he just absorbs them. our hands. On urday of that week | fully lay the steak in it a rather amusing thing happened. sexual ‘society plays’ and the frank yul- | ganty of others could hardly be toler ated, it seems to me, without the easy He couldn't write an insincere line, I sm so interested tn his play that for the first time in my Ife Iam glad to go | play and actors came kround to thel utes. Turn carefully with A Romance of Mystery, Love and Adventure. One | done turn at the end of five minutes, critic who had utterly condemned both | well done turn at the end of elght min- If wanted rar! it lute necessity on account of the absence of fat in the Haye a hot br mt iar tissues of game. ling oven or a clear fire and bro!l for six minutes on each side Arrange six slices of nicely browned toast on a hot platter, place the birds on them and baste with a mixture made by creaming one ounce of butter, fla- vored with a half teaspoonful of fnely chopped parsley, the juice of a halt lenion, and, if desired, ‘a few grains of nutmeg. Garnish with’ delicately brotied a broad! thin slices of bacon and watercress, (Copyright, 1908, by Bobbs-Merriil Co.) They were returned to Craven street. short and sturdy fellow, extremely i! at, attention to the lunch. ¢ Jper who turns aqufre-of-dames with —— Yne more lap round the track!’ mused jease. Drawing a ‘small taboret to the Thoughtfully he poured }imself a cup | matrimonial intent 1s open to the desig- SYNOPSIS OF PRICEDING INSTALMENTS | Kirkwood, “Wonder will the next take | side ‘of Kirkwood's chair, ihe placed of coffee, swallowing it hot and black jnation “pennil enturer.” No etree, Mipewood a ang, aufornien {¥ me back to Bermondsey Old Stair thereon a tray, deferentially imparting as it came from the silver pot; then | whatever sery ght be to the + named Calendar| At Mrs, Hallam's direction, Eccles the information that ‘‘Missis ‘Alam ‘ad munched the sandwiches. \gir! would be ample recompense to him Wing the Amer: | ushered him into the smoking-room, on thought ‘ow as Mikter Kirkwood might) It was kindly thought of, this early for his labors. afte "a gs cal Kirkiwood's excort, 5 5 for his labors. And afterward he'd go Dorothy goee to a deserted house hy night the «round floor in the rear of the dwell- care for a bit of supper.” morning repast; Mrs. Hallam seemed | his way in peace; she'd soon forget him at for her” father a mysterious black |ing there t AN oniiatelainainea than iileage thank’ainal dalam cantnely ’ LA Gladstone bag hidden there, a iran gracniod |) there to wait whilo she helped her| “Please thank Mrs. Halim for m e und more a remarkable woman|—if she hadn't already. Women (he with Jeinkewood on the ata ra of this house | son upstairs and to hed He sighed with irkwood's era ed eyes ranged the with eact phase of her character that |propounded gravely) are queer—there's ait, and "hen father nt from Hnglan| | Pleasure at the first glimpse of its | Jaden tra here were sandwiches, bit- she chose to disclose, At odds with |no telling anything about them! on a silp “whose name Kirkwood cannot |juxurlous Dy com: f , chee} ft ot of black coffer she vet toc Sok Tey ose name Kirkwood cannot luxurious put informal comforts, and cult, cheese and a pot 13 lack offee, | him, she yet took time to think of his| One of the most unreadable specimens fea rch, ott purse he had dropped Ik the | threw himself carelessly into a heavily | with sugar and cream. “It was very | creature needs! of the sex on which he promounced this t Wood Tesuscltates the uncon: yah he added ti struggle, Kirkwood resuscitates the uncon: | padded lounging-chair, dropping one | Kindly thought of,” t added. What could be her motiy ot in feed- | hi original dictum entered the room Boo, fe Mrs. Hallan., a confederate of Galen: Knee oyer the other and lighting the last Very good, sir; thank you, slr {ng him, but in Jnyolying her me and just then, and he found himself at once ara, with whom the inttor haw apparently |o¢ his expensive clxars, with a sensation ‘The man turned to go, shuffl:n: sound: |soreune in an affaly so strangely fla-/out of his chalr and hin dream, bows font tg an the ataten ie Ner™aony f of undiluted gratitude; as one coming |letsly. Kirkwood was, suddeni¥’ tmn-|\oneg? © * * ‘This opened up a desert ing Me rewood "returns. with the. mother , pressed with ls evasiveness ne : i in @ weary land ay nybody’s motive who figures in this): The woman nodded and smiled gra Over his shoulder a homelike tilu- (nance had seemed turned from the guest CHAPTER VIII, (Continued,) lamp shaded with red silk. At his feet | ture for the hundredth time Ing." She wank tn Eat ‘, lamp shaded with ted silk At Hie {90 i butter halted, “ thundereteuck,(~#2", (he hundredth ume-gave 4 up; |ing.”” Bhe sank Into an armchatr on Mme. 1,’ Intrigante. Fireiemane reir rerren ie rine ft RR |the day should declare it, if so hap he the other side of the hearth and, probe OUNG Hallam wad resting fia| The walle were hing with deep red, the! “Turn round, Kocles; 1 want # look at|!ived {© see the day—a distant one he) ably by aceldeht, out of the radius of Y empty. blond fead against the|doore end divane upholstered in the |79u:"! . made ae doul The omiy clear fact tn Mumination fra the lamp; sitting cushions and seemed to dose,|eame resiful shade, In one corner an|_ 2ccles faced him unwillingly, with a) Nis befogged and bemussed mentality | silewise, one Kuen above the other, her but, as the carriage rolled past the fre-lold clock ticked soberly, ‘The at- |#tolld front,” but shifty eyes. Kirkwood | Was thal he was al cane “broke! And | % ue OLE AAA ARRLDRE 8 quent street-lights, Kirkwood could #e@|;osphere would haye proved a potent |#lanced him up and down, grinning, in this business up to his ¢ Well, Sombre bagkwround of shadowed erim> that the eyes of Mrs. Hallam were| invitation to reverie, if not to sleep~he| “Thank you, HKecles; I'M remember |he'd see tt through A nothing better )#en, steadily directed to his face. was very sleepy—but for the confualon | ¥ou now u'll remember me, too, |t? 40 an@—there was the girl, Dorothy,| She was very handsome indeed, just His outward composure was tempered}in the house |won't you? You're a bad actor, aren't | Whose eyes and lips he had but to close | then, thous! a keener light might have by some amusement, by more adininas| In sts chambers, through the halls, |¥oU, Hecles?” his own eyes to see again as vividly as | Proved less flattering, tion; tte woman's eyes were very hand-|on the stairs, there were hurryings end | “Yee, sir; thank you, sir,” mumbleg {though she stood before him; Dorothy,) “Now, Ar. Kirkwood?" she opened even when hardest and most cold.| gourryings of feet and skirts, confused |the man unhappily, and he took instant Whose unspoiled sweetness stood out in briskly, with a second tnumate and Tt was not easy to concelve of her as| with murmuring voices, Presently in | advantgge of the implied permission to| vivid relief against this moll and toil friendly nod, and paused, her pose re- being the mother of 4 son so immaturely an adjvining room Philip Kirkwood | 60 of conspiracy like a star of evening | °*Ptive. mature. Why, she must have been at) heard a mail servant wrestling hape-| Intensely diverted by the recollection | #hining clear in a stormy sky | Kirkwood sat down again, smiling Wehst thirty-eight or tne! Onel¢uity with that most exasperating of [of Eccles's abortive attempt to stop him| “Poetle simile; I'm going fast,” con. |Kood-natured appreciation of her un- wondered; she did not look it. * * © |modesn time-saving devices, the tele-|at the door of No, 9 and wondering—|ceded Kirkwood; but he did [prejudiced attiiude The carriage stopped before a house | phor countenanced by our English|now that he came to think of it-|It waw becoming quite (00 serious a "Your aon, Mrs, Hullai with lighted windows # Jumped|oousine. Her patience and determina-| why, precisely, young Hallam had|matter for laughter, For her sake Oh, Freddie's doing well enough. down from the box and scurried to open | tion won his approval, but availed noth- |deemed it necessary to travel with a| Was in the game “for keeps,” espectally |" * * Freddie” she explained, “has « the front door. The radiance of a hall |ing for her purpose; in the outeome the | bodyguard and adopt such furtive|in view of the fact that everything—lis|@eleate conetitution and haw seen ttle lamp was streaming out into the misty | telephone triumphed and the maid gave|methods to enter into as well as to|own heart's inclination inoluded—seemed |°f he World. Such melodrama as to- night when he gturned to release his employers, up the Unequal contest. obtain what was asserted to be his! to conspire to keep him in tt, Later @ butler entered the room; « oS Of course own property, Kirkwood turned ective he hoped for nothing im return; ® paur Pa. ¢ [night's is apt to shock bim severely. We must make allowances, Mr, Kirke wood i, <> a anmneaggenetmnyran ae Saturday, | now what I should do, and so I think| |“! ace Mot Influenced by Public. ‘art, 1 THE BLACK BAG er ; Decem @® ut ®) am By Helen I oven “ weather!” | remarked | Methuselah he Mr. genially, as ushered me his private library and dismissed his pretty stenog- rapher with a nod. | just like a bo: ‘You LOOK just like a boy," I re- turned, regarding | his curly toupe and, [his smooth-shaven chin In astonish- ment. “But I always thought you were —were"— “An old fossil?” suggested Methuselah, with a laugh. ‘No, indeed. A chap can't afford to grow musty and stout and seedy in these days, It requires such strenuous labor to keep up with you ladies,"" and he made me a grace-! ful bow. “Thanks, awfully!" I murmured, with a blush, “but a man {ts only as old as {he feels, you know.” “Nonsense!” and Methuselah shrugged his perfectly padded shoulders con- temptuously. ‘That olf fallacy doesn’t [hold good any longer. ‘This ts the | golden age of woman—and not the dotage of man. The time has passed when an old fellow could go on marry | ing and making love, and fancying him- self fascinating after he had lost his front hair and acquired embonpoint The old horse who tries to act like @ colt receives n severe shock when he discovers that a woman of forty re- gards him with daughterly respect, and that a twenty-year-old girl regards him as a grandfatherly bore. Tife women | nave turned the tables on us, madame. It's the Iady who 1s as young as her feelings, and her beauty specialist can | keep her so. And when you hear of a no report ts printed—the criticisms to be | December and May wedding nowadays written after a later public perform: | {t's the woman who {8 December and | ance? It seems to me there are several | the man who !s May.” clsms come later? the French do, give invited guests and the critics, of which why not do as performance for \ feasible plana that would be much bet-| Yes," I sighed. ook at May Ir- ter than the present system—falrer so} win, and Wilen Terry, and Lady Ran- far as the judgment of the critics, the |¥olph Churchill, and Mrs, Lesi!e Car- information of the public and the|ter, and Mrs. Langtry and all the othe: merits of the play and the acting are} yeauties in their second-summer, who concerned, Meanwhile, I just accept my | have gone direct to the cradle for bad first nights as one of the unavold-j} jable evils of Ife, IT simply say, ‘Yes, | I'm awfully bad, I know, but to-morrow | I'll try ¢ ele | | "Does a first night ever ‘into thinking a good play a failure?” | “Not now. J've learned to know myself, and I don’t think I shall ever | produce another real out-and-out fail- | ure. 1 can't make the blunders now jin choosing a play that I might have | made in the past. I feel instinctively bands.”* And got them!" rejoined Methu- selah, sadly. “It's the mature woman who picks all the plums off the matrl- monlal tree, while the bread-and-but- ter girl ts sitting at home wondering do be frighten you where all the wandering boys may be. In other words, the golden age of wom- an nowadays 1s Middle Age. No woman begins to bo Interesting unt!l she ts thirty-five, and any woman can be a to fifty provided she keeps Ner figure.” “And a good income,” I finished, sare castily. “One of the subtle attractions ebout a middle-aged woman Is that she fs usually elther a widow with a tidy 'I can never go wholly wrong in the} selection of a play.” This amazing statement causes to ask: “Do you consider the taste of the public in choosing a play with a tidy little salary, which makes her an asset Instead of an encum- brance."” | “Besides,” concluded Methuselah de- “Oh, mo, never, never!” she ex-)terminedly, ‘she's not ihe a flufty claims. “How could If To guess at) lttle thing that you oan see trroush 59 0! : ja y as window glass. She's the public's taste would bring about |e eee complex.” deterioration and possibly destruc: “qixe—like stained reeaee | tion. 1 must do what I feel would be best for me, not what I might imag: | ine the public would like. One must} have a standard, a goal of one’s own.” “Mine is to be true to may add—though rfully pretentious, e laughs again as " agreed Methuselnh enthusiast- Did you ever notice how much fascinating the are than the plain ones— simply because you can't see what's iyself and to| behind them. That's the wi with a! that sounds | middle-aged woman, You can’t see doesn't it? what's behind her words and actions ou ask: “Did and expressions. She keeps you guess- you stop to think twice before getting | ing.” into the rags of a scrubwoman?” “Not at all, she peals. is a great relief feally. more windows fe “And that's the only way to keep you | not to have to bother |man doesn't keep anybody guessiny about furbelows. I like Nell's clothes | because everybody knows that his emo- | because they are a part of her~real, | tlons have been worn to a frazzle and lke herself.’ that he hasn't an illusion under the) And real, Ike some one else, you| sun, and that his heart fs dried up and think, as you shake @ firm, strong [hte sentiments moth-eaten and his love- making ® mechanical habit!’ hand In good-by. “ _ Author on The 'rivate Kirkwood grinned again, a trace n+ | George Calendars pay?’ sympathetically he wax unable to sim “Heaven forfend!'—plously. “My sole Immortal Interviews -:- No.8— Wise Old Methuselah on the Fun of Being an Aged Beau DOO 000 00U00U000000000 0000000 COGO OO CODD OCR CD OOOO} “1 declare, I. feel #resoined. little fortune or @ professional woman | stained glass | Rowland. “Ah, well” sighed Methuselah, “a man lives about twice as fast as a woman; and a youth of twenty-five Is an old as a woman of thirty-five, and has had more experience and more wear and tear on his heartstrings. But & woman sips the wine of life slowly, and it ts just beginning to go to her head at thirt “And to make her silly at forty,’ I “And that reminds me of something I wanted to ask you, When 18 a girl no longer a girl?” “When she no longer FEELS lke one," returned Methuselah promptly. “Not when she begins to get grey, but when she begins to get easily bored; not when she loses her teeth, but when she loses her fllusions; not when sho loses her figure, but when she loses her enthusiasm; not when she ceases to in- terest men, but when men cease to in- terest her.” “You mean," T inquired, “when sho would rather go to bed at half-past 9 and get a good solid night's rest than to sit up to talk to an Apollo Belvi- dere?” AS “Pxactly," acqufesced Methurelah— ‘when she reaches that point of Indit- ference where she doesn’t consider the “Picking All the Plums. dance worth the tired |champagne worth the | Nor And when there ts novelty in a flirtation’” “Nor any thrill in a ki | yi agreed Mewiuselah, | that’s when a boy ceasas to be a bit | “But he never seems to know it!” I | retorted, sadir. | “Ah, well,” sighed Methuselah, 1 old ladles will be girls, why should; |old genttlemcn be boys? And that | minds me,” he added, hastily glancin, fat his watch, ‘that I have a—er |luncheon engagement. Actually you've | kept me so entertained that I'd forgot- | ten it. But,” and he brightened visibly, | “1 can telephone her, and if you will do me the honor'—— Mr. Methuselah!’ I protested. ‘Say!’ exclaimed Methuselah, enthuse stastically, “you have stunning hatr’—~ “T really must be going!" I exclaimed, | rising hastily | "And attractive eves,” continued | Methuselah; “won't you just come this once for’— “My dear boy him suddenly. “What!” | “Too old to Interest anybody over six hundred—or even over sixty,” I finished, “T like them sixteen.” “Well, so do I,” acknowledged Mr, Methuselah with a sigh, as he bowed feeling, 1 t headact love worth the heartac no i longer an Y cried, turning om I'm too old!” "In fact, tat all!” I declared, “But a middle-aged |™° Out of the door and rang for the pretty stenographer. —_——~——_— Mantul. When a man neglects a duty, he gayut \"1 was too busy; but usually he wes too Jazy.—Atchison Globe. By Louis Joseph Vance, Brass Bowl,’’ “ The War,” Etc. 000940906900 909OSOOPOPSS OHO DPDI SPO OS EO IOSODODIIOODS Kirkwood waited In patent attention till she chose to continue, When she ulate any enthusiasm on the subject of Interest at the present moment js to un-|did “Now for my side of the case!’* poor Freddie, whom he had sized up ravel a most entrancing mystery"—— |erled Mrs. Hallam; and, rising, began with passable acumen as a spoiled ar Entitled ‘Dorothy Calendar’! Of|to pace the room, her slender and coddied child, completely under the course. You've known her long?" | rounded figure swaying gracefully the thumb of an extremely clever mother. | * " eight hours, I belleve,” he admitted | wiille she talked "Yes," he responded, vaguely; ‘he'll er Bavotite at nine sae Aen Rravalys ae than that, in fact | "George Calendar ts a scoundrel,” she ra sadl Pr reg id tt lender's aptaroate will not] said; “a swindler, gambler—what I be- uffer through anything you may jtieve yor CoE pont hrey The woman was watching him keenly tell me." i a Anuar cipiad mt * a anes beneath her lowered lashes. ‘I think,” | “whether they will or no, I see i| man: Hes also my late husband's first AAPA CI STTOTA estat re Herta Jcousin. Some years since he found tt he said, deliberately, “that it Is time must swing a looser tongue, or you'll | 4 ~ : a convenient to leave England, likewise we came to an understanaing Dafahowinaloalineraccnd | Kirkwood agreed—"Yes?” affably 2 |his wife and daughter, Mrs, Calendar, ‘ « y The woman shook her head, amused. mile On adibagiDegpe arise cencnalisaingtimantectiviiatraiatite countrywoman of yours, by the bye, “Not until,” she told him significantly by rd. ‘To begin with, 0. r vy. died shortly afterward, Dorothy, forward. ‘To begin withs t don't piace) “Very well, then.” And he launched | ie merest accident, obtained a situa yee 00d tute: “vei; (into an abridged narrative of the | ion as private secretary in the house- known quantity, @ new factor, n't night's events, as he understood them, ee t Th you please tell me what you are and hold of the late Col. Burgo: » a he eee ee eet ire Gn4 touching lightly on his own ctrcum-| eis, comwall, You follow me?" perp saili + Al" stances, the real poverty which had) sveg, perfectly ncar's ‘ brought him back to Craven street by #5 ‘1 think [omay lay claim to that yoy of Frognall ‘ol, Burgoyne died, leaving his ene “And there you have it all, Mrs. Hallam.” She sat !n honor, though’-+to Kirkwood's way of seeing things some little frankness on his own part would be essential 1¢ they silent musing. w and were to get on—"I hardly know him, #s@in he caught the glint of her eyes Mrs, Hallam. I had the pleasure of @d knew that he was being appraised meeting him only this afternoon." with such trained acumen as only long knowledge of men can give to women. He wondered !f he were found want- * ¢ © Her dark head bended, el- | yon knee, chin resting lightly in the | She knitted her brows over this state- ment. ‘That ughed T assure you, ts the truth,” he “But * * * I really don't under-|cradle of her slender, parted fingers, | stand.” tNe woman thought profoundly, her “Nor I, Mrs, Hallam, Calendar aside, | reverie ending with @ brief, curt laugh, I am Philip Kirkwood, American, rest- dent abroad for some years, & natiy: musical and mirthi the sound of of | breaking glass Bun Francisco, of a certain age, unmar-| “It is so like Calendar! she ex: ried, by profession « poor painter claimed; ‘#0 Ifke him that one sees how Ana? | foolish it was to trust-—mo, not to tr . “Beyond that? I presume I must|but to believe that he could ever be tell you, though I confess I'm in) thrown off the scent, once he got nose doubt” * * * He hesitated, weighing to ground. 8 !f we suffer, my son ‘and 1, 1 shall have only myself to Ave you ia thenkr” candor in the balance with diseretion, ‘But whom are you for? | valuable information. tates to my son, some time ago, Shortly afterwani Dorothy Calendar disay- peared, We know now that her took her away, but then the dis ance seemed inexplicable, espe since with her vanished 4 great deal of ¢ alone knew of the location of certain of the old colonel's personal effects ‘He was an eocentric. One of his pecuartties Involved the secreting of Valuables In odd places; he had no fatt in banks. Among these valuables were the Burgoyne family jewels—quite treasure, believe me, Mr. Kirkwood, We found no note of them among the nel's papers, and without Dorothy, were powerless (o pursue & search for them. We advertised and employed dee teotives, with no reeult, It seems that faher and daughter were 4: Meow Carle at the time." as (To Be Coptiauedy i \ {