The evening world. Newspaper, June 29, 1912, Page 8

| ar i | tions how to read } ESTABLISHED BY JOSEPH PULITZER, bi Prean Publishing Company, Nos, 68"te a ous Y How. fev tom RALPH PULITZER, President, 1 Park Rows US SHAW, Treasurer, \ JOREPH PULITZER: Jr, Becretary, 63 Park Howy t New York as Second-Class Matter.¢ Weeee ee hill to The evening |For England and the, Continent "and World for the United States All Countries in the International | and Caneda. Postal_Unton,’ . 92.80] Ono * Year.*. $7. &'Zcmcenmed 90-76 | Month 180] One Month, . 8 seg saeas oo WOLUME 52......cenanescecsssssosssesscccssesNO, 18578 PLENTY OF GOOD NOISE. IE in charge of the musical part of the celebration for the coming Fourth have caught the right spirit. Morning, afternoon and evening will find the city ringing with trumpet and song as never before. Besides some forty band concerts in the various parks of the fize boroughs the committee has arranged big singing programmes fge the City Hall celebrations both morning and evening. One hun- and fifty members of the Young People’s League for Interna- Federation will lift up their voices for Peace, a quintette of Bhwaiians will sing Hawaiian songs, Swedish singers will do as much for their native land, and local concert soloists and school choruses will enliven the evening in the illuminated City Hall Park with “America,” “The Star Spangled Banner,” “Suwanee River,” “O14 Kentucky Home” and more of the good old tunes. Let even hurdy-gurdies be honored for the day. Competent bare- footed critics say there’s nothing better for a sidewalk dance, Nothing will so help the Safe and Sane Fourth to a sure place in people’s hearts as plenty of music. As Director Farwell hi id, “While the Fourth of July in the past meant two things, the Idea of ‘Liberty—and Noise, present signs indicate that the Fourth of July ef the future will mean the Idea of Liberty—and Music.” + —__—_ THE LADY CARPENTERS. 'HREE square meals a day for the workingman, the third degree for the high cost of living, and a good shaking for the tariff, are planks of the Women’s Platform newly sawed and nailed down by the Interborough Suffrage Club. The organizer of the club says she has only scorn for the Chicago and Baltimore efforts at platform making: “Just the cut and dried “political stuff, that’s all—nothing that holds out any hope for the workingman!” The women know all about the workingman and his needs. ‘Tiigy know he wante and should have, by George, three good meals adey! Who is better fitted to see that he gets them? Living is high. Well, doesn’t it always take a woman to get the most out of o Galler? As for the tariff—couldn’t any woman take the tucks out of that old-fashioned rag in « jiffy? ‘Above all things the Suffragists must not and shall not take eides with the existing political parties, says the club leader. We tmuust be absolutely free, independent, impartial and without prejudice. “T-bereby declare that I’m not for any man or party, though I believe fm Teddy, and I hope he'll be elected President!” No “cut and dried political stuff”! Real stateswomanship! ee READING IN BED. ERE’S good news for the lazy summer time. An English * doctor, according to the London Globe, says reading in bed isn’t anything like as bad as the family have always told us it was, In fact, done in the right way it hurts the eyes less than reading sitting up. “Had it been the universal practice during the last twenty or thirty years,” says this jewel of an authority, “to give careful direc- ying down instead of saying to one and all ‘Yon must not read lying down,’ there would be less nearsight and better eyes in the community than now exist.” If you would read lying down without harm follow three simplo ules: Arrange the bed or sofa so that the light comes from behind your head and strikes full on the page. Don’t hold the book close to the eyes: Don’t tip it. Hold it so that the lines of the letters are at right angles to a line drawn from your eyes. Not only may you read thus without injury, but you may have the added sa! ion that your position is giving your body a time for-rest and repair while you amuse yourself. pO ERE ES If any. one desires to know the leading and paramount object of my public life, the preservation of this Union will furniah him the key. HENRY CLAY. Died June 29, 1852. Letters from the People ek Ory tor Wate: Bo Me Baitor of The Erentog World: Bet the water glasses be put back on trains in this red hot weatler or lee alongside each water cooler on where else, and I think many of your readers will agree with me ir this. A Water Fa in To the Kditor of The Evening Wolrd: tweins, he: of paper cups on] During the last few years when the ele at one cent each. As matters now| “!tY has been threatened from time to tend, many trains let the water cool-| Me with drour much time and ere get empty or stale, Water is aj MOY have been spwnt in teaching the Juxury in winter, In summer it ts a| Htople to water, Inspectors are aarp necessity. 3.3. an, | ‘telled to seo that leaky faucets are es repaired. ures are given, showing Card Mayers Grab sents, the great amount of waste caused by ‘Pathe Milter of The Evening World: Jeaky faucets, and yet on the face of Be amivkere, on branches of the Erie) {hat the Park Department allows the)! and other Inev, the card players grab | ©*stence of public drinking fountains | | far too many seats, Two men will turn | Ma ay wtmont ore aakms might | and day withou . ‘This condition | ever & seat and hold all four places! {y particularly avparent in Bronx Park, | (ehille others stand) until their friends arvive to make up the quartet, The © traiamen stand in with the seat-grabbing Does this not seem an incon the part of the city officials, not rather @ bad example to sgt to the outrage, often because they rent cards| People ‘ and lap boards to the players, It forces Drivers and Closed Streets, pemreard players to stand in the uisies, | Te the Editor of The Evening Wolrd: N.Y, 8. & W, Hlaving noticed that this is a banner 1 t year for our city streets getting re- paired, I make a suggestion that elty should pay a few dollars fo tising, letting us drivers know whi fe true that some people in cars! ‘the feet will not extend futher than it erdimariiy would. But very many, do p87 Much attention to people who fm the aisle, As for resting the croaslegged does not do @¢ much good as it does harm ing the Ddlood's circulation anes ‘To the Editor af The Evening World: When was Yale University started? at a bevy of girls passing by. Birls of sixteen dress like women of that,” who are making a show of themselve It's Just he all this talk of the high © moderate means Uved twenty year: Copyright, 1912, by The Press Publishing Co (Tue! New York World), T & terrible th sirle dress these days darr, looking down on the street “why. hirty!"* “Huh! remarked friend husband, ‘More often you'll find it's women of ng to look like girls of s!x- How observing you are!” “Oh, my! sald Mra, Jar. “I'm observing enough to be on to Jarr, “The youn® It's the old hen eplied Mr. all right. of living. Living as people of would be just as cheap to-day. trouble Is that people don't want to live cheaply. It's like Rangle; he was of- fered a Job in Cincinnati at big money —for Cincinnat!. And when he sald tt wasn't enough they told him to remem- ber how much cheaper it was to live in Cincinnatl, And he said it was bad enough to have to live cheap in New York without going out to Cincinnati to live the same way,” “He wouldn't find It any cheaper in Cincinnati, The price of Iquor ts just the same as here," sald Mrs, Jarr. True Logic 2 the lowgr leg and foot on ac- @f stopping the veins above t ‘Ia the long run, ft 1s not such a PHILIP SCHLEGEL, Yal Bayvrook, Conn, in 1700, and wae r moved to New Haven in 1716, - Untveralty had its beginning at) ent?” “Gee! The way you talk people would think my friends were the original cast of “Ten Nights in a Barroom!" Mrs, Jarr thought that the silence which giv the best way to receive this remark, so she sald noth- ing. “The high cost of living,” sald Jarr, reverting to the original topic. because so much money goes Domestic By Alma THE INSURGENT. A beach hotel near New York, > 6.90 0. M. (Mr, and. Mrs, Brown alight from the train and approach the smposing looking structure.) R, B.—What made you think of coming to thle place? Mrs. B,—Because I've heard f 60 much about it. Everybody comes here, Mr. B, (suspiciously)—You salad you felt like taking a little ¢rip to the ocean to get a bite. This doesn't look like the kind of @ place where you can get @ bite, It looks expensive! Mrs. B.—Oh, for goodness’ sake, be a sport! Don't get cold fect before you see the menu! Mr. B. (firmly)—Well, these places are all allke—it's a que robbery. ‘They know they've got you out here and you can't get back, #0 they proceed to ->ak you. Mrs, B, (impatiently)—How do you know this is that kind of a place? Mr. B, (knowingly)—Don't you sup- pose I can tell? Look at all the auto- mobiles outside, Mrs, B. (scornfully)—Wellt Sin when are you afrald of automobile: Come on Si, Mr. B, Galing hold of her sleeve)— Now, before we go in I want to warn you not to order the most expensive things you see on the card. I don't want to have a scene at the table, but I don't want you to order lobs'er and asparagus and thinge like that. I haven't paid that two months’ electric ght biN yet, and my insurance pre- mium falls due in a week or two! Mrs. B. (sighing)—Oh, I'm never com- ing out to one of these places again! Why can't you let me really enjoy my- self once In a while Mr. B, (induigently)—Well, I'm just telling you beforehand, 80 we won't have any discussion at the table, You can isfy your hunger just ag well with a club sandwich or some cheap the chairs tured up.) wo, Walter (taking in at @ glance Mr, B, “Who won the political argu- | me | “1 did, | a8 loud as the other chap.” | dollar Hd)—Sorry, small |to see the ‘movies.’ Copyright, 1912, by The Press Publishing Co, (The New York World), Mr. B, (to head walter)—A table for . dollar ninety-eight shirt and his two- ir, but the only table Why, | could shout twice | for two that I have just now is that one “wnder the stairs, If you'll eit outside a 990900000000090009000000000000000990000090000009000 Mr. Jarr Describes Known to Science ebeccoccccooooore seeeetseeeteeesoscooooeoooooee+eee luxuries we didn't use ¢ have. “What luxunles do we have, even small ones?" asked Mrs. Jarr. “Well, take the moving pictures, for instance,” replied Mr. Jarr. ‘There are twenty thousand moving picture shows in the United States, I'll bet it costs 60 cents every week taking our children Dialogues. Woodward few minutes maybe I'll be able to give you one, Mr, B. (fire in his eye)—What's the matter with all those empty tables right in tho centre of the room? ‘alter (raising his brows)—Reserva- | tions, sir, i Mr. B, (with rising rage)—ALL those tables reservations? Walter (coldly)—Yes, sir, (Turns aside.) Mr. B, (angrily to Mrs. B.)—Looking for rake-off! It's an outrage! Don't you suppose if I'd slipped him a dollar I could Mra. B. (sweetly)—Well, why didn't you? Mr. B. (flercely)—Do you think I'm golng to be a willing victim of graft, madam? ,Tn things over which I have no control I HAVE to stand for it! But in this situation I HAVE control. Why, if you weren't here with me I'd rough-house this joint! I’4 go right on up to the proprietor if necessary, But T'd get a table, you bet, without greasin’ anybody! Of course, when a lady's along you can't make a fuss, Mrs. B. (patiently)—Well, what you going to do? Do you want to take that table under the stairs or are you going outside and wait? (Mr, B, picks up a billoffare that’s lying on and sans it.) Mr, B, (excitedly)—Look at here! Look at here! Twenty-five cents for a Manhattan cocktail! You catch me paying twenty-five cents for ONE when I can get TWO for that in the city! Forty cents for clams on the half-shell! Don't cost ‘em more'n five and they have the gall to charge forty! Is that robbery or not, I'm asking you? Mrs, B. (blushing painfully as others hear)—Come on outside, George; I don't feel very well. Mr, B, (throwing down the menu). You bet we'll go outside! And we'll go so far outside that we'll never come back! (They exit and walk slowty toward the sation, ALL, oir, “Say, women are the original telephoue ‘a’ had any table in this room? | a New Malady as ‘Telephonitis.’ “AS wo can't afford to go to the reg- ular theatres, where tickets cost $2 (for I'm not going to alt up in the gallery wkh the common herd), the moving pic- plthey at 5 and 10 cents are no great ,,But don't you said Mr. Jarr, ‘suppose we only spent % for theatre tickets a couple of times a year; we now spend an average of (0 cents a week on moving picture shows—that'’s $6 « year. “And I suppose we are going right t» the poorhouse because our children wish to have a little pleasure like other chil- dren?" was Mrs, Jarr’s comment. “Now, please be patient,” said Mr. Jarr, “I just want to show you how the money goes these days on the little things that mount up—things we didn't use to have, The the telephona, That costs $2 a mont! “Have it taken out!" erled Mrs, Jarr. “All At's used for ts for you to call me up and tell me an important ma\ Keeps you downtown. That's just Il! you men; the telephone is your dei Possession, Women don't use it!" “They don't, hey?” asked Mr. Jarr, fiends’ Don't I see them?” “I dare say you do,” jiclly. “But go | ‘Well, you know the women of to-day Jare so addicted to the telephone habit |that they neglect the plano,” sald Mr. \Jarr hotly. Look at that Clara Mud- ridge-Smith! She's hanging on to th telephone, gassing to all the other lady loafers she knows, all day long, Why, it you try to get her telephone you enl: get a clacking in your ears and then (hear ‘Central’ say, “Wire's busy! * “It’s too bad you are thwarted in your attempts to talk over the telephone with fascinating Mrs. Mudridge-Smith!" re- marked Mrs, Jarr grimly. “Be careful you do not say too muc! “I'm talking about trying to get her \husvand on ‘he telephone,” sald Mi Jarr. “My business 1s with him, and you know it. “I'm sure I know nothing of your at- replied Mrs, Jarr with affected Indifference; “you do not confide In m But !f you are so annoyed because Clara Mudfidge-Smith ts talking to some one else over the telephone when you wish to talk to her I'll ask her as a persona! favor to me not to use it to speak to any one but you, because you are break- tng your heart about it, and you come home and find fault with your wife on that account!” “Great Scott! Can't a man talk to you abou: anything In this world with- out your taking a wrong meaning out of it?" gasped Mr, Jarr, ‘You started It, You betrayed your- seit!" sald Mrs. Jarr. id Mrs. Jarr, kind of fish, can't you? Pavra lee area sllmoe ) look here!" cried the exasper- Mr. (generqusly)—Just you walt] atea . “You are always asking me U7 it the in 5 it many at m Fee eee Ee neh ows, ieee gant’ | til we get to the station, I'll buy youlto come home early, But what's the the room are two rome of emply with |some marshmallows and some milk| use? The earlier I come home the more chocolate, and then when we get back to the city I'll take you to a little place where you can get the swellest litte meal you'd care to eat for elmty cente! Mrs. B. (later, munching her milk i time It gives you to fuss with me," ising his hat he rushed out. Whereupon > Jarr went to the phone and called up Mrs, Mudridge-Smith and conversed with her for half an hour be- | claim and found a husband, all in her BY ia Goprright, 1912, by The Pree Publishing Co, (The New York World), THE SEVEN AGES OF WOMAN. mT what age is a woman most lovable? My deat Lady, at ALL of them! Somebody has said that thé seven ages of man, after all, are the toad age, the puppy age, the gawky age, the golden age, marri-age, the tron age—and the cribbage, ‘Then, of course, the seven ages of woman must be the doll age, the the dancing age, the flirting age, the love age, marri-age—and the dangerous Verily, there ts no age at which a woman capnot be both adorable and adored, if only she ing to be adored—according to her age. But, alas! A woman never can forget her yesterdays. It is SO hard for her to say “Goodby!"— Goodby to @ friend, goodby to love, goodby to youth, goodby to her dolls and her dreams! In short, a woman never knows WHEN TO STOP! ‘That is the secret of contentment in this life—knowing when to STOP! Wheat to atop eating, when to stop working, when to stop talking, when to stop pI ing, when to stop joking and when to stop flirting. No use beginning, if you doi know when to stop. All the seven ages of woman are full of beauty and delight, while they lasts but they can’t be expected to last forever, any more than June roses, or May files, Or mosquitoes. And the secret of happiness in this world consists in takt things aa they come, getting all there is out of them—and then letting them in short, in knowing you've got ENOUGH, whether of dinner, or love, or @ flirtation, or even a friendship. Woe to the girl who insists on stringing out her dancing days, or lengthents her flirting days; and woe to the man who insists on “keeping up the pat after the fire of youth is dead. It 1s eating the core of the apple, my dears, @raining the dregs of the glass. Why drink dregs—when you might be filling nother glass? Why pick up the crumbs of yesterday's feast, when you might be sitting at to-day's? A different menu perhaps, but just as tempting and satisfying, if you but change your viewpoint~and your partner. Perhaps the most tragic figure in this tragic old world is the woman who has passed her youth, but cannot forget that she was once a beauty and @ belle—who still tries to hold her little court and wield her little sceptre; who thirsts for admiration, devotion and homage; who cannot sive up her filrting @ays! How silly she appears! Yet, there is no one on earth more attractive than the woman of thirty-five who 18 thirty-five-and knows it! What @ divine wife, what an inspiration, what a friend she can be! It 1s the age when a woman knows HOW TO LOVE! When her character should be at its most beautiful stage of development; when her soul is what attracts a man, How foolish she is to want to go on playing—when she might be LIVING. How foolish to go on trying to turn men’s heads, when she might be molding their hearts and minds. How foolish to care about men, anyway, when she should be concentrating on THE man! ‘And then, there is the kittenish granimamma! THERE 1s a comic post card for you! Where are the sweet, old grandmammas we used to know? THEY did not squeeze thelr poor old feet into French-heeled shoes, and go trotting about in stays and hobbies, How contented, how adorable, they were! They seemed | filled with a peace and clothed in a radiance that was almost divine. Ah, yes, there is no age at which a woman cannot be loved and lovabie! Love, love, love! It goes all the way up and down through a woman's life— and through a man’s, too, for that matt But the loves of sixteen are not the loves of thirty, and the loves of thirty are not the loves of sixty. If only we could take each as it comes, and make the most of it and then give it up freely and cheerfully! For, with love, as with life, the important thing is mot that {t should be long, but that it should be beautiful and interesting. Alas, there nothing on earth #o dead as dead love. A dead cigarette? A Gead flirtation? Hardly! Did you never go hunting about in the middle of the night, to discover that you were all out of cigarettes—and then come sud- denly upon @ f-smoked stub in th h tray. And when you had relighted that stub, wasn't it the sweetest thing you ever smoked? So, too, « flirtation can be rekindled, sometimes into a genuine flame of love; for @ filrtation is only @ half-burnt affair. But love! Love, itself, love ana youth, “never come back.” Clinging te’ them, weeping over them, shaking them, trampling on them, will not revive them, All the pretenses in the world will not make them seem real. It is tragio for a woman to go on weeping, demanding, blaming; and for a man to go on pretending, lying, deceiving “like a gentleman,” after love is dead. If only they would be brave, and face the truth together, cease their recriminations, and say to one another “Goodby — “Take out of your life this hour And keep it alone, for me, And put it away, like a flower, In the book of your memory!” How different life would be! But there! Was there ever a woman who knew when to say, “Goodby? The Folks That Write Our Books “Copyright, 1012, by The Press Publishing Co, (The New York World), ARY AUSTIN says sho will/writer when writing a story, He ale ‘write no more about the/tates everything to Mrs, Chester, desert, Not that the subject !s| John Breckenridge Ellis, author of exhausted for her or for any-|"Fran," was at one time a professor body. “Others will find ma-|of English literature in Plattsburg Cole terial there for years to come.” {tt 1s|lege, of which his father was president, just that she has vritten all she cares| Readers of the Willlamsons's rom- to write of the magic sketches on the |jances will be Interested to learn that edge of which she took up a homestead Mary Grant of “Guests of Hercules’* has @ prototype In real life, This girl, @ relative of a Catholle peer, went to @ convent school and took her vowa, but, on receiving a large legacy, was young womanhood. Mrs, Dell H. Munger, whose first book, “The Wind Before the Dawn," is soon released, Half of them have telephonitts, | to appear, knows the life on the plains by long experience, but lives now ip a bungalow at Palo Alto, Cal. C, J, Cutcliffe-Hyne, creator of Cap- tain Kettle, 1s the son of an English |vicar, He took an engineering course Jat Cambridge, has traveiled all over |the world, and more than once has a sailor under stress of empty pockets. Mra, Wilson Woodrow's ideal Amert- can woman is one who loves her own {country and 1s “bright, cheerful, al- truistic, with a mind of her own and the faculty of doing things.” While Brewer Corcoran, author |The Bantam,” was hunting in the |gouth his pickaninny attendant fell linto a stream with the lunch basket, “Did that lunch get wet?" somebody lasked anxiously, "No, sah,” said the |poy, “I done et It, back yonder.” | George Randolph Chester, who in- vented Wallingford of the get-rich- quickness, never touches @ pen or type |shipped a of LACK and white are always ef- B fective when used together, and for a brunette they would be doubly becoming if the combination had a touch of red somewhere about tt For instance, if the sult were of black with a fine pin stripe of white, a dark- haired woman would do well to have ‘a hac of red or of black, with the red trimming appearing near the face. ‘Phe white silk ribbon with black vel- vet stripes Would be just the thing to be used upon such a costume, It could appear either upon the hat, or for those that ke the big bows on the front of thelr walsts tt could be worn in that chocolate)—wWhat's the exact definition| cause, as Mrs. Jarr said, “Mr. Jarr wae lout and she wanted somebody to talk | would Be manner. Even more effective thas this bbon of heavy Yiedk we weivet that has the red shot through ‘3 Going into the world, ignore ant and innocent, she took her first lesson as did Mary in the gay whirl ef the Riviera. WIILN. Harben, author of good stortes of Georgia, has left New York on his annual pligrimage to his old home in Dalton, where he will pass the mer, Charles Agnew MacLean, author of “The Mainspring,” was born in Bally mena, Ireland, of Scotch parents im 1880. This same town is the birthplade of 3. 8, McClure, Maclean's fame ily came to this country ir 1885, and at the age of seventeen he entered news- Color Combinations for the Well Groomed Woman paper work, serving ‘three years as @ reporter, Gertrude Atherton has been moved to deny that ‘“Julla rance and Her Times" is @ woman suftvage book, “fo my mind,” she says, “suffrage was but @ stormy and picturesque incident in Julia's Ife—Jjus. as it occupies that poe sition in (he latter day development ef women.” ee in stripes, half hidden, halt seen, Silver lace is always attractive blue or violet, but gold inaines ee better with green or tan. Though an evening dress of cloth of gold covered by pale chiffon is veautitul, yet it te doubtful that tim same blue over a cloth of silver body would not be more lovely in its exquisite daimtle ness, Women with even the faintest tinge of auburn fn their ha'r can always wear blue, and the deeper the red the more becoming it But they must discard Pink absolutely, as it svems to steal thelr beauty and even deadens the wone dertully translucent skin that almese always belongs to the fortunate ecssos of Titan bain '« oe |