The evening world. Newspaper, July 24, 1911, Page 10

| Sacer Published Dafly Except 7 py,the rene Enbiishing Company; Nos. 68 to 63 ow, New Yor nF 4 Beo'y. ote Lehman 4m Becond-Ciass Matter. For Ropiend and the Continent 004 All Countefes 1 50] One Year. 0] One Mont! th MF Internationas oE bet Bit VOLUN Ses ccccecen cvccvsvees . CoV EKITENDe 10/239. , THE LEGISLATIVE LET-UP. | HE long-winded Loegisla- ture’ takes—and gives—a needed rest until Sept. 6. The attempt to send Shee-| han to the United Stat “Bill” Devery, were char- acteristic of the whole ses-| sion, in harking back to old traditions of bossism | and swag. Gov. Dix, while demonstrating that he can make good appointments when expedient, and that he knows how to use the veto better than he dared to when it came to @ serious matter like the Levy Elections bill, in too many in- stances defied the independent Democrats, not the machine. | Boss Murphy’s philosophy is not so much that of Epictetus as of the latter-day opportunist who declared, “If I can get what IT want when I want it, I am willing to do without a great many things I don’t particularly care about.” Among the things he wanted, and has got, are: Control of the | State canal and highway contracts, a gag for the direct primaries promoters, and the United States Senatorship for O’Gorman, sub-| etiiuted for Sheehan. As for the New York City charter, which waits | over for eomething like mature consideration, it is now regarded as, problematical whether Murphy takes more thay a platonic interest in that document. The Gittins racing bill, dedicated to the propo- | sition that racetrack owners and poolroom gamblers had no idea} that the “sport of kings” was being marred by betting, was more $f a josh than even the Assembly could stand for, so it faded at the finish. y And this is the Legislature whose morals and political conduct | ave to be inquired into by a Lexow investigation—at Murphy’s order, ef course. ro ts i} | | i} HOW THE BRITISH WON. = RITISH Oxford-Cambridge defeated American Yale-Harvard ir, the track and field athletic meet held at the Queen’s Club, London. But, hold on a minute, cousins, now that you have let off those bengal lights and sounded vic- torious blasts on the fish horn. In that 16-pound hammer throwing event Put- nam of Oxford won fairly over Childs of Yale, thus enabling the Britishers to capture the honors by five points to four. Without Putnam’s victory this score would have been reversed, as Childs fin- ished second in this event, and his winning would have secured the triumph of the American team. | BUT—come to think of it, Putnam is “of Oxford” as a Rhodes scholar, not as an Englishman. He is a full-blooded American from | Kaneas. On these terms, British cousin collegians, with you, and there’s glory enough for us all. we are glad to hurrah | Tam also an office boy and am about seventeen years old and do not get “the | smallest pay.” I am not fired when | the boas is cranky. My hours are not | as long as those of the boss or the! bookkeeper, IT never “slave.” I juet| do my work rightly, And I never wished to “punch my employera’ faces tor about eight minutes.” set an “unjust call down" I figure it) ‘Te the Fdttor of The Evening World On what day of the week did July 3 fall in 18867 Also January 2%, 18867 cL. K. (That I-Don't-Care Feel To the Hditor of The Evening World Would ome kind reader give me fome advice? I am a young lady of % years of age and come from a re- apectable family. It seems in whatever Tundertake to do T fail (it 1» a case of Jack of all trades and master of none), which makes me disgusted with life. 1 keeping. Senate and to pension) |'Z% poas Wergat 1G Mayor Van Wyck’s super- | Yo Z annuated police prodigy, cart \ NY M°CARDELL that Mudridge girl. attention at that plonic at Glen Island and she extorts a promise from me to take her for an auto ride, and”— ‘Come in Gus's, on tl | tell me your troubles," interrupted Mr. Jarr, “Don't be bursting into tears on And when 1 ene street." “Why don't World Daily Magazine, o JOHN, \ WE ARE GOING ) | TOWAUK To FARAWAY BEACH | AND PICNIC THERE. | | COME ON wrty US. | WEARE GoiNG To Hive | 4 Joey Good ( DAY of REST fu FRITZ UM GETTING TIRED OF PUSHING THE KID eyo 4 3 TIRI or CARRYING THE BasKeT ed him get in time. In other moment Jerr. “ sent me after you.” “Your home was the only safe place, I thought,” whim- pered ened bache! they “Let . by (accmget) WITH YOU Biwer would have deen on a@ street je ladies the fright- “In all my ume I never saw auch a per- aistent damsel as I show her a little corner, and let me alone?’ Tam worth correcting I must be worth moaned the bachelor as he wiped his And I would like to say to worried brow at a table in Gui coolest “OMce Boy" that he should be con- | corner. me tell you what that have that “I-don't-care” feeling about me which makes me very disagreeable and unpleasant with my femily. KATE. The Movey Problem, Fo the Fuitor of The Evening World In answer to W. Hamberger prob- Jem I submit the following: He “A person gave 1-5 of his money and 1-8; that equals %-15. Hoe has 7-15 left vefore spending the $300; 7-16 equals 900+ $800=$1,100; 7-16 is the part of $1,100, Which equals $2,357 1-7, or $2,307.14+ was hie whole capital JOE BUTLER Youthful Philosophy, To the Editor of The Evening World I read “Office Boy's” complain, Now, tented that he te called down when to) Musridae irl ee pane al! probability he should “ ead if it will ense your f Leer “— 1, |‘nes" sald Mr. Jerr, ‘But, remember, you might as well come in and eur render. They're after you and there is no escape.” “It Deming to look Itke tt, dosen't ttt sald Mr. Gilver, “Why, when we got ip the auto my arm happened to drop be- | hind her accidentally, and before I eould pull it away she aettied back againat tt | and held it there eo tight that I had hard work getting It away. And then | Stil) Thiraty, To ‘ue idilor of The Evening World: Allow me to expr my thanks to Forester” for answering my query as to @ good summer drink. He suggests cold tea a a thirat quenoher. Good: but not in large quantities I have nerves, Also I noted suggestion: of oat- meal water and of # rhubarb brew, Can any reader tell how to make “near beer” she anid, ‘Oh, wae that your arm? #0 or any drink which does not produce @ innocently! | * feeling when ewallowed 7 had half a mind to say, ‘Oh, no, | n fairly large quantities? — See Brought Up to Date. STILL THIRSTY, The Home of the Cane. F ali the people perhaps none ts more fond of canes or more skilled in their use than our fel- Jow-citizens of Porto Rico, The walking etick tn that teland would seem to mark social distinctions among men es fans @0 among women, Every Spaniard has @ cane, the well-to-do own several, and the gilded youth often have a smaii artenal of walking sticke The term @rsene! 1s used advisedly, as the Porto Ricans, tike the Spaniards, have quite « fondness for eword canes ani dagger canes and they make these with re markable skill. The blades of the finer epecimens come from famous smiths In Toledo and other Spanish cities, and are orged from the finest steel, Some are jamascened and others are tntaid with White Plaine, N. Y. | My Prayer. | &) ET me be true enough te meet each | Cart honest | + Yor it @ friend whose eorrowed heart has heen undone Asks me for comfort where in truth there can be none, Then jet me grasp his groping hand— and kindly le. And if my neighbor Goes those things | T think are {ik | Let me not judge! Who knows what | | tangled taunting alain | Fate may have woven to have meshed | hie heart in patn— | | Would I have smoothed the evil knot) | with haf hie skill? | | @ince I must play the game of life, thie is my prayer, ‘Though I may lose, let me preserve a smiling face diver and gold, come Rave worked upon the name of « patron saint.—Puliade Ble Rect, em the name of the owner and others | oe ety ne “What was the old quotation? ‘1 not who! "-—- | are not who mal a coun: we if only | may make its! a Lat me not scorn the weak who falter In the race Let me be meroiful—let me play fatr Angues 0s Angeles Graphic, as ‘nantnbestahwerere stent ete |Delieve # thing when several The Day of Rest. By Maurice Ketten. CICA FRITZ, THE LUNCH BASKE (S$ CUTTING MY ARM ) Go ME VAAL —t FRitz, 1M GETTING TiRED OF CARRYING THE LUNCH BASKET Mr. Jarr Listens to the Thrilling Story of an Attempt to Catch a Bachelor and Tame Him Pee ord ete ehh al hed AA By Roy L. McCardell. . JAR® hurried downstairs after M the fleeting Mr. Jack Silver and that's my camera. I'm going to take @aid she was old fashioned in her moving pictures by moonlight on our = ways, liked to cook and was fond of way back!" housekeeping, and despised women who “What elee happened?’ asked Mr.| wanted to vate or who played bridge. Jerr. And when I eaid I liked a girl who was ‘up-te-Gate, she said she didn't how @ man could have any respect for a girl who was not reserved, and added that “What else DIDITT happen?’ reptied Mr. Silver. “She turned the converss- tion to dangerous topics all the time Dumbwaiter Dialogues —— By Alma Woodward — Oourright, 1911. by The Press Publishing Os. (The Now York Wesld). Sema he Grace Ageetmente, around there are full of epics Mrs, Oneter sod M@| ractiars and copperheads—yes, indeed! (Afra Bef entls jentter, ‘There to me remenss.)) Why, they eay you can't even take s \RS. C. (opening deor)—I just @uw the janitor going to the corner with eomething under | & newspaper guess he'li be | soared back in a minute. What de you want? Something leaking? Mre, B—No, I want to find out whother he can tet] me where I can get | am! © lockemith. Mrs. B. (shrieking)—Gnakes! Ob, I'm te death of snakes! (pitifully.) Oh, Mre, Carter, are you sure au those treet (Cffentet)—Why of course I Bet you don't have to take my 4, Pm sure. Ask somebody Mra. C.-What's the matter—tose your |¢lse—ask Mrs. Dunn. She heard all front door kay? Mre James eai4. Mrs. Dunn—Mra. Mra. B.-No, I want @ key mede for | Dunal my trunk. ‘Mrs. D, @appearing)—Yea, dear? Want Mrs. C. (watsing her teows)—Oh, are | me? you going away? ? ‘Mra C.—Just a minute. Tell Mrs. Bell Mra. B.~Te the Rosebud House, Ceol-| what you know about Coolbreese, Me. ‘reese, Me. Mra, B. (almost in tears)—Oh, do tell Mra. C. (vehemently)--Oh, my dear, | me what you know about it? surely you're not in earnest! Mra. D. (grimly, to Mra. C.)—-Dtd you Mra. B. (atiffiy)—Why, of course Tem ten her about the grubf —what'e the matter with it? is Aor Mara, C. Gaising protesting hande)—| Mrs D. (toking off on her fing Rather ask me what IAN"T the matter | miq vou tell ner ubout the mosquitos with {t, my Gear. Why, T eoall tell you | tes G, sven things about that place that would make| are ip, (drawing @ lone breath)—And your hair curl, but, of course, I won't | te erates? to Jong as you'se going there, 1| ihe enaxeer —_ oe uae ene oe Mra, D._(trtumphantiy)—Iil_ bet you Men B lancenie : Gidn't tell her about the tramps that ee ia me robbed all the guests last eummer! theret Mra, ©, (regretfully)—No, I didn’t, Bre. C.-BNo, my dear, but 1 know | gBith,B ‘tasntin Oh, are there rafts of people who HAVE been and Sees Mra, D.—Are there tramps? Why, my they ‘ait gay the same thing. I always! aoa: ure, Hell, there is a sramp under people ev tree in Coolbreeze. Mrs, C.—Heaven knows I don't want to be a killfoy, but I heard Mr. Smith say he'd rather be sentenced to a year penitentiary than two weeks up Please do—you've Were you ever say tt. Mrs, B, (mpationtly)—Yes, bus what 40 they say? Mra, C.—They aay Why, the portions are so small up| there that they evaporate from the| (a thunderous sound travels up the kitchan to the dining-room, and they| «matt from the cellar.) sive you eggs ao much that they say| yrs, C.—There'e the Janitor now. Why the tendency te to roost on the bottom | aon't you call him before he disappears of the bed instead of getting into it in? ver again Mra. B. Cbeginning to wilt)—Really? | ytrs. nm, (wonderingly)—What did 1 Mrs, C. (rushing on)-And the mos-| want him for? quitoes! Why, one man told me that! ytre, C. (looking suspicious)—Why, to the Mosquitoes down there were almost! tei) vou about a lockemith, of course human, He said he remembered one) wir. f. (wanly)—I don't think [ want bunch of ‘em in particular that used!q locksmith, thank you, (Closes door.) to do the sextet from “Ivola" tn his) Mrs, ©. (to Mrs, D.)—Now, there's left ear every night about twelve! what I call a weak-willed woman, easily Mra. B. (indignant)—Oh, Mre. Carter, influenced. ‘The idea of letting a few please don't foke about it! Mttle things Ike that discourage her! Mra, C.—Well, of course, that'e @' But then you can tell by her chin she epneerreied, And the woogs nee mo | chaperon. > \ Alt RIGHT i T WIFEY } You PusH Tae mip | ( Give IT Tome SOHN , You PusH Tae Auto ' ITS EASIER — | > —————— (ee she married she would of couri try to please her nusband in everythin, 4nd would play carda with or bea chum and companion if he desired.” | ‘That's what they all say marked | Mr. Jarr, | “And when we were dining at Brigh- ton," Mr. Silver went on dolefully, “she kept saying I mustn't think the less of her for coming out with me without he didn't know what made her do it. She only knew, she said, that she had never done it before and wouldn't do it with any one except me for all the world. She sald she thought I had some strange control over her. I was married, said Mr. Jarr. red the une Mr. Silver, ‘that she supposed that a! her friends would believe we were en- Gaged because they knew she wouldn't 4o such @ thing unless she were en- gaged." ‘Where do tuey all learn these same Unes?" asked Mr. Jarr as his memory went back to similar experiences, "And," whispered Mr. Silver hoarsely, ‘though I didn't see her do it, I know she stuck a hatpin {nto the rear tire when we were getting back into the auto. A mile on the road back—biagh! Down went that tire. And we had to ait under @ tree in the dark for half an hour—Yes, gimme another of the same! —while the chauffeur put in « new inner tube.” “You anid you thought you'd by at my house," sald Mr. Jarr. "So T 414," replied the unhappy man “@he left her parasol in the auto, on | purpose, too, I know. And since theo she's been telephoning me at my office, at my apartments, at my club—I kept out of the way—to get the parasol and bring {t to her and she'd be waiting for me, Why wasn't she waiting for |me? How did she know round to your house?’ ‘It'e @ sixth sense,” said Mr, Jarr. ‘But leta have another, After all, I don't suppose she's any worse than the rest.” ‘No, she's a rather nice girl; good , looking too," id Mr, Silver. | “1 can say I failed to catch you," | “1 couldn't allow that. Where'l you | say you were all this time?” | “On, don't mind me!” anid Mr 1 was going “An, T guess she won't get me. A lot of ‘am have tried, Besides, if the worst comes to the worst she isn't a | wad sort. A bachelor’s life is @ lonely [one I might do worse.” “Beware, young man! ‘The rapids are below you!!! warned Mr. Jarr, | “She's a fine sald Mr. Stiver, ‘the “other taken effect "AS a gent not permit the aspersion that a lady who has honored me with her company should have ul- | terlor motives.” “The mot! are not ulterior,” said Mr, Jarr. “They are as plain as day.” “A very sweet girl,’ said Mr. Silver. “1 don't think !t nice in you keeping me hee whe. I called at your house (m tho ope she'd be gnerei” t! "Yep, I've heard that all, too—before Jarr. | Monday, July 24: 1911.. No. IX—W. S. Gilbert's “ENGAGED.” NGUS MACALISTER was an honest, tender-hearted Scot. He o@@ 80 himself. His chief means of livelihood was to wreck 8 near the border cottage of his sweetheart, Maggie Macfarlane, a@.1 to help the battered passengers into the cottage where Maggie and her mother made a tidy Income by binding up their hurts and selling them food and drink. It was a pleacant and lucrative occupation—except for the passengers. One day Angus wrecked a train that was carrying {nto Scotland a nuh ber of rather interesting people. Cheviot Hill, a stingy but susceptible youth whb was travelling with his uncle, Mr. Symperson, and Cheviof's jchum, Blevawney, who was eloping to Gretna Green with’ Miss Belinds |Treherne. Cheviot's father had been eo afraid his impressionable son would marry unwisely that he paid Blevawney $6,000 a year to persuade Cheviot to remain single. Should Cheviot marry or die this $5,000 was to go to Uncle Symperson. Thus {t was to Blevawney’s keen interest to keep Cheviot singie, and Symperson was equally eager for Cheviot to marry. In fact, durng Bievawney's absence the uncle had succeeded in engaging Cheviot to Minnie Symperaon, ais emily daught Cheviot, In the cottage garden, chanced to meet Maggie, He promptly fell in love with her and proposed to her, itterly forgetting Minnie. Then he met Belinda Treherne, who was ignorant of his Identity, and fell quite vio~ ently tn love with her, To save Belinda from an avenging A jcotch Marriage.” ex-aweeth woo Was trying to break up her elopement plans, Cheviot an- ‘nounced that he was her husband, She assented to this statement and sald she was his wife Though retther knew it at the time. by Sootch law these two declarations constituted @ legal marring Later, Belinda learned about this bit of law. To her horror sne realized #he Was marriea—io a man whose very name she did not know. Cheviot had gone Away, Ignorant of the tmportance of hie “declaration,” and she had no means jof finding him, Blevawney would tei: her nothing about Cheviot, for, not only did hy want Belinda to be his own wife, but he did not wish his tncome to be cut off as tt would be were Cheviot to know he was marrie!, Yet Belinda, be- ; Heving herself legally married to Cheviot, refused to listen to Blevawney'a love- making, Meanwhile, the day for Cheviot’ marriage to Minnie arrived. Blevawney, Chevivl was about to be married, rushed to Symperson’s house and told degroom about the Scotch marriage. Then Belinda came to attend her nd, Minnta's, wedding, and found herself face to face with Cheviot. RBlevawney, tn this moment of confusion, remarioed that as the Macfarlane cot- tage was on the border-line, there was some dowbt as to whether it was in | Scotland or in England. If the cottage stood im Scotland, then Belinda was Cheviot's wife; if in England, she was not. Cheviot rushed off to look up the deeds to the land to find whether he were married or atill single. In Choviot's absence Blevawney made himself so agreeable to both girs that each fell in love with him. He had a truly tnapired way of entertaining them. As Minnle said to Cheviot on the latter's return His conjuring tricks are wonderful. Have you seen him bring a live hen, two hair brushes and a pound and @ half of fresh butter out of his pocket. handkerchief?" | “Pretty goings on in my absence! snorted Cheviot. “You seem to forget | you two girls are engaged io MTN | “Ab, Cheviot!” sighed Helinda, “do not judge ue harshly. But the hours | crept heavily without you, And when, to Ughten the Manieal gloom, the kirdly creature ewallowed @ live rabbit and But to Whom? | 'TOusht It out, smothered in ontons, from his left boot, we could not choore but smile. The good sou) has nromised i} to teach me the trick.” Cheviot's mirfortunes were not at an end. He had not been abe to learn definitely whether the cottage was in Scotland or not. And, while he waited for a letter from the owner, Maggie Macfarlane brought suit for 95,000 breach of promise @amagen agulnst hin, eaying tenderly as she broke the news | "‘¥e were unco’ guild to poor Iittle Maggie. Thi @ laddle waitin’ outside noo to serve the bonnie writ on ye." | Just then a letter from the cottage’s owner was brought tm. It stated that the cottage was on the Engit# side of the border. Cheviot clasped Minnie to his heart, Then he happened to read a postscript to the letter which men- toned that while the cottage ftself was in England, tte garden was in Scotland The “Scotch marriage” had taken place in the garden. Cheviot thus suddenly found himself married hard and fast to Belinda The moment he discovered this the susceptible youth quite forgot he had ever fancied himself in love with any one else. Belinda, too, consigned Blevaw- ney to Minnte and Joyously hatled Cheviot as her “love of a lifetime” The Day’s Good Stories | An Author Took Revenge. DISTINGUISHED novelist recently found | himself travelling in & train with two very \ talkative Be pe airy Lion g toy him tom pi pein pa theo ee ton ne genihed ert er earns inner which was wnendurable to the eensit! \thor, ei Danger of Extremes. o "" Ming to idger tle ermapathy with ultra-high church leanings ee Nectie, 2 Mivine once eaid to him at & Lenten ween! stared ‘Bishop, suppows 1 should bu: ts 7 Pa Seitahe beak of hand {itleg, duritg (servion, 42" you thot ‘saything to hie issed ‘it soundly. jab re | Wout happen? | formed found, the two women ba (4 Whittaker emntied arr} enather fo ence, dows his wile. beard, | with he 3 ¥ deal Nn ‘hep, tart ace aie of aaron le friend, Four ‘oneregstion we hat shal} erer know whieh of rou it wee that | Jour vestranen ‘wl fume Kissed me!" —Ideas, ‘kely that you yortrself woul The May Manton Fashions Oupgrignt, 1911. ty The Frese Publishing Os, (The New ¥. appear mothers. to This one 48 tucked tn a way to provide fulness, Handkerchiet jawn 4a the materia; 1). justrated and the trimming em- broidered banding, but all those tity are used tor chji- dren's dresses ay. The pian own in the w ie presty morning wear, and, when banaing ia Uked, elther lace or embroidery —eep de used. if | The dreca te ouria one piece. There are only the underarm seams that are @x- tended into “th eo. It te joined to the yoke and thi Closing ts made the back. ~ For @ child of four years of age will be required 3 ¥ srde of material 27, 26-6 yards 3 or. inehes wide, with 4 yardy of insertion, Pattern No, Tomé {# cut in sizes tor enildren of 2, 4 and Child’s Tucked One-Piece Dress—Pattern No. 7054, 6 years of age. j |f° Mow Call at THE EVENING WORLD MAY MANTON FASHION i BUREAU, Lexington avenue and Twenty-third street, or send by | mail to MAY MANTON PATTERN CO., 132 B. Twenty-third street, | N.Y, Send ten cents in coin or stamps for each pattern orfered. | IMPORTANT.-Write your addrese plainly and always ted. Add tw. tor let | Porter npeskty size wan! 0 cents ter postage if in a huey | suitable |