The evening world. Newspaper, February 17, 1913, Page 15

eux. f \ The Evening World Daily Magasine, _" Monday, February 17, CoN os Yor kveting Wont” MRS. JARR IS TRYING TO DODGE THE HIKE. 6e you come out in the dining room a minute?’ asked Mra. Jarr, ‘m in trouble! “S' matter? ked the best husband Harlom has ever known. “Oh, dear!’ cried Mra. Jarr. “While you wore tn the front room with those two men—and by the way, you haven't me whd" they were—I recognized ir. Dingston's voice—it's so soft and gentlemanly it's @ pleasure to hear him mpeak—and I suppose you, like @ big old softy, lent him some money—or rather @ave it to him, for he never pays back. But who was the other man?’ “Tt was a lawyer friend of Dink- eton’s,” explained Mr. Jarr. “You aren't going to sue your firm for not raising your salary as they promised, are you’ asked Mrs, Jarr. “Oh, dear, don't do that! When people have lawsuits they get @o angry they don't speak, and it would be dreadful !f you were working down in that old office and not speaking to them except through your lawyer!” ‘Never mind about me. I do not con- te entering sult. That would only longer delay my salary raise!" sald Mr. Jarr. “But what's the trouble out in the dining room?” “It's Josephine Blessington Blotch and Mre. Gratch,” replied Mrs. Jarr, “I took them out tn the dining room, for Mrs. Gratch was married to Mr. Dink- aton, if you remember. She deserted th Cause for him, It's dreadfully emba Tassing to have husbands and wives who are separated meeting in your house. , “So I took Josephine Blessington Blotoh and Mrs. Gratch—for she has re- sumed her firat husband's name, by which she was !dentifled with the Cause *o many years. And she time she meets Mr. Dinkston, ston burets into tears and says he knows he {s a wretch and can she lend him a dollar to tide him over his finan- cial difficulties, which are only tem- porary. “This ts true, because soon as he ts the dollar he spends it like a prince, and Mrs. Dinkston, or Mrs, Gratch, as has to give it to him, as nothing upsets her like hawing a man crying around her and asking her where she has been #0 late and him sitting at home without anything to eat or drink, and especially nothing to drink, and no money to go out and get anything. 80 IT took them to the dining room.’ ‘Mr. Jarr waited a minute to see if ‘Mrs, Jarr had really run Gown, and when asked: “What do these iadies want?’ “They are whipping in the strag- | Down.’ | calla herself now, says she simply; Biers,’ said Mra. Jarr. “And, oh, how ean I go when I'm to hold my tea next week and J'm right in the midst of my Preparations! ynere are you to go to? What do you mean by ‘whipping in the strag- ler said Mra, Jarr dole- “Josephine Blessington Blotch made an impassioned address, and she got us all worked up, and she got Clara Mudridge-Smith's beautiful gold and @other-of-pearl pen and the allver ink bottle, and Clara has the loveest Buhl boudoir desk, and so we all eigned.” “Signed what?” asked Mr. “The Suffragettes replied Mrs. Jarr, “Oh, it reads beaut!- fully. It saya, ‘I Promise to Look Up, Not Down, Out? Not In—And Lend « Hana!" : “Lend a hand for what?" asked Mr. Tarr, ! “Lend a hand in making the Great jSuffragette Hike to Washington a suc- cess,’ said MraAJarr. ‘Do you mean to say you gave your tten promise to walk to the Inaugu- | ration with Captain Rosaile Jones?’ and Feb-| ruary seemed to far away that I thought everybody would forget it. And| Mrs. Gratch's signature was such a scrawl and T wanted to see how the; ‘@ Mudridge-Smith's beautiful pen, Worked. And, besides, I do write a| Pretty hand, and everybody was s0| enthusiastic, a0 I signed the Suffragctte | Solemn Obligation to Zook Up, and Not And you know 4: ts a horrid! habit, hanging out of the front window| and watching what's going on down in the atreets— ‘And ‘Out, Not In,’ I sup- Pose it means you can look out, but you mustn't be ingutsitive—and to ‘Lend » | Hand whispered Mrs, |Jarr, though T have taken ithe obit Jonephine Bless- (ngton Blotch is going, but Mra. Gratch, Dinkston that was, says she'll stay till I come with her and Join the hike at Trenton, Oh, what will I do?” seave It to me,” paid Mr. Jarr, “Mr, Dinkston's lawyer is practising at bar at Gus's this minute I'll go him, and we'll threaten to arrest Mrs. Gratch Dinkston for non-support of he: husban: Advic Loveless Marriages DO not think | that there is ever any ex- cuse for @ loveless marriage. We all know unions have turned out unhappily when at the beginning both husband and wife seemed de- voted to each other. Jiut that {sno argument against marrying for love. Rather it @ warning againat the marriage of con- Verience, for if two persons Who are really fond of each other cannot get along together, what chance has a pair waited by no ties of affection? The prejudice in favor of the love- match has always been particularly etwong in America, and I think we}? @hould be proud of this. Certainly we have Uttle use for the continental of men, who frankly marries to be sup- ported, And I believe the girl who marries for in rather than for love, te exactly as despicab! MA. OK." writes; "A ‘ake me to the t) . Shall 1 thank tim for my ofening’s pleasure?” 8 ts the courteous thing to do. n has +B writes: "1 took a girl to Betty Vincent's 5 SPPLPPLLPSOPP PLL PL LL PLR RRR A oe e to Lovers ball, and though I do not dance myself I was perfectly willing she should.dance with others. But I 4i@ think she ought to sit out a few dances with me, Was I right?” Yea, since she had accepted your es- cort. A Lost Love. “oO. EB” Four years ago the young man for whom I cared went to rope and I haven't heard from him since. We were not engaged, though he had often told me that he loved mo. Now do you think it advisable to accept one of several good offers of marriage? J still love tho first young man.” ‘Then don't marry any one else, “P, D." writes: “I am paying atten- ton to a girl but her parents say I must not marry her, as I have no money, So we have planned to meet secretly for two years, hoping that her | parents will change thelr minda Do ‘ou Approve of this course?" | 1 don't approve of clandestine meet- |!ns# under any pretext. 1." writes: “A young man has |pesn calling on me regularly, but I have not heard from him for a week, I wrote last, What shall [ do Wait for an explanat! ye RG A young man fatled to keep an engagement with me, and Waited & month before offering an ex- past!?2.sav- WHEN (LET THIS Soe rear Wee warcd ME GET HIS bathe. 10 mites AN Hour & AN Te CoP AFTER WiMft Squatting beside D'Arnot, he wrote for a minute on the smooth inner sur- face of tao bark; then he handed it to the Frenchman. D'Arnot was astonished to see, plain printiike characters, @ messa, in English. Iam Tarzan of the apes. Who are you? Can you read this lan- e (Oopyright, 1012, by Frank A, Munsey Co.) SYNOPAIS OF PRECEDING CHAPTERS, i poned with Alice, his yon the, wildest part of the “atrica, Left alone in he Junste, Crezatoke and ote di yh Hf fog tthe ie, i ki forchak, lane tte ay ad ait nis, Am ae named Kale, whee own offepriog fan imi. been Bled, ‘Alice's: baby ae dead liitie ape in the child’ wing cradle, | The ja known to the apes as ‘ tan" "Waite Shin") "Tle “arom to boyhood. Wandering one day, ‘arzan comes to fis father built,“ xploring the cobin'y song he finds “aa, illus o . if to read and to . Tirin the itt Pigoes 10,18 tn hte fasber of mu me eailore G4 peel tae ot her ntgro walt’ ani Cecil HAVE done for me." ‘coat . . The man only shook his hend and v(m bl# pointed to the pencil and the bark. lead ¢! “Mon Dieut” eried D'Arnot, “If you D'Arnot wro! Lon Gi young wife, on the coast, Hoe mn, wrote Ingiish—evidently he was an EngMshman. “Yes,” eald D'Arnot, ‘T read English. I epeak it also. Now we may talk. A sopaet econ English?’ ho capture Lieut, d ‘bear him | And then in a fi caren “thele village for’ orture’ Termes’ cores the mat Was @ mute, possibly @ deaf abectousnenm, sare D' Arnot, on reco. « Taran sitting {a Tront of Tee CHAPTER XXIII. (Contioued,) Brother Men. fina emo. iu earch of mute, of 80 ‘D’Amot wrote a menmae on the pcared Rat bark, in Engl “I am Paul D'Armot, HMeutenant tn the navy of France. I thank you for what you have done for me. You have waved nip eyes my Ife, and all that I have is yours, he English does not speak it?” pared eas fim, puts “Tarzan’s rely filed D'Arnot with sttll not saw that it was the Seater wonder back of @ White man and he , 1 #Peak only the language of my thanked have trlbe—the great apes who were erchak's—and @ little o! o lan- Fe eerie cand, faintly, The guages of Tuntor, the elephant, and the shelter.” iis faco was very hand- —Nvma. the lion, ‘and of the other fome—the handsomest, thought D'Ar- {yike of the jungle I undere: not that he had ever seen, ith a human being I have nes Stooping, he crawled into the shelter *Poken, except once with Jane Por- beside the wounded officer and placed fer by algus. ‘This is tho first ume a cool hand upon his forehead 1 have spoken with another of my on2 of those D'Arnot «poke to him only in Frenan, Kind through written words Whites in the but the man only shook his head—sad’ D'Arnot was mystified, 1 seemed in- either ki {t seemed to the Frenchman, n D'Arnot tried Eng! the man shook his head. 1 ish and German brought couragement. and write. D'Arnot knew a few words of Nor. | He looked again at Tarzan's neseago— weglan, Russian, Greek and aleo had “except once with Jane Porter.” a smattering of the language of one of Was the American girl who had been the west coast negro tribes—the man de- into the Jungle by a gorilla. ¥ A mudden Ught commence! to 4 Ing D’Arnot's wounds the on D'Arnot—this, then, was the ‘Ko- man left the ahelter and disappeared. He fotzed the pencil and wrot In half an hour he was back with fruit “Where is Jane Porter? and a hollow gourd-like vegetable filled And Tarzan replied, evo with water, D'Arnot drank and ate @ little, He Tarzan of the apes.” wan surprised that ho ‘had no fever, Again he tried to converse with h strange nurse, but the attempt was us le his head and wounds. suddenly very weak. ‘Dut ati] a full-grown man who had never spoken milar dig- Posterous that such @ one could read men, she? What happened to her? rey Terkoz to be his wife. Tarzan Suddenly the man hastened from the apes took her away from T of the planation, What do you think of him?" That he ls @ discourteous persen. shelter only to return # few minutes Killed him before he could harm her. Jater with several pieces of bark and— ‘‘None in all the jungle may face Tar- ‘® lead pencil am Tarzan of the apes—mighty fighter.” “Tam glad she write, I will rest awhile. And then Tarsan: ‘Yer, rest. When you are take you back to your people, For many days D'Arnot lay upon his ‘The second day a ? fever had come, and D'Arnot thought D'Arnot eagerly eeized the pencll— that it meant infection and he knew the cabin then he stopped. ‘This strange man that he would die. ren An idea cama to him. He wondere4 why he had not thought of it before. He called Tarzan and indicated by that he would write, and when Firat let me thank you for all that you ‘Tarsan had fetched the bark and pen- cil D'Arnot wrote: Can you go to my people and I will write a safe. It pains me to bed of aoft fern: hem here? Seite me ae that ‘ou may take to @re English, why is it then that yot them, and They ell follow you. Tarzan shook his head n it came to him-— the bark, wrote: I thought of that—the first day. ‘The great apes come often to this spot. If they found you here, wounded and alone, they would ktil you. D'Arnot turned on his olde and closed He ald not wish to dle: but that he was going, for the fever HHE broad, muscular back was May I ask how it i# that one who writes wag mounting higher and night he lost conaciousn Yor three days he wa and Tarsan eat beside him and hands and washed his On the fourth day the fever broke it had come, and it left Arnot @ shadow of his former aelf, Tarzan had to lift him that he might drink from the gourd. The fever had not been the result of infection, as D'Arnot had thought, but commonly attack jungles of Africa, and or leave them as suddenly ox credible that there ved upon the earth D'Arnot's had left him ‘Two days after D'Arnot was totterin; jan, Span- With @ fellow-man, and still more pre- about the amphitheatre, Taraan » and ‘Tarzan found # hat bark that they might converse, D'Arnot wrote: What can I do to repay y m that you have done for me ‘Teach me to speak the language of wrote Tarzan in reply. $ And 80 D'Arnot commenced at once, “Back with her people in the oadin of pointing out familfar obfecte and ri Peating their names in French, for he “She {9 not dead, then? Where was thournt that tt would be easier to tea thix man his own langua “She is not dead, She was taken by understood tt himself bem i Tt meant nothing to Tarzan, of course, om and for he could not tell one language from th. © pointed to the word 90 when 4 man” which he had printed zan of the apes in battle and lve, I piece of bark, he learned from D'Agnot two more daya had mastered so much French that he could speak little sen- uch as: “That is ara “Iam hungry,” and the Uke, but D'Arnot found that it was difficult to teach him the French construction upon @ foundation of English. ‘The Frenchman wrote little lessons for him tn Engii#h and had Taraan re- Peat them in French, but as @ literal translation was usually very poor French, Tartan wae often confused. nto unlearn all that he had rned, especially as they were rapidly approaching & point where they would be able to converse, On the third day after the fever broke Tarzan wrote a message asking D'Arnot if he felt strong enough to be carried back to the calin. Tarsan wag as anxious to ®o aw D’Arnot, for he longed to see Jane Porter again. Tt had been hard for him to rem ingly for his notality of character than even did his rescuing of the Frenoh officer from Mbonga’a clutches, D'Arnot was only too ‘willing to at- tempt the journey, “But you cannot oarry me all the dis. tance through this tangled forest,” he wrote, Tarsan laughed. Mais oul,” he @aid, and D'Arnot laughed aloud to hear the phrage tha: i@ used ¥o often @ide trom Tersan's tongue. So they aet out, D'Arnot marvelling as had Clayton and Jane Porter at the wondrous strength and agility of the ape-man, Mid-afternoon brought them to the clearing, and as Tarzan dropped to t earth from the branches of the lust tree his heart leaped and bounded ribs in anticipation of seeing orter @o ¥oon again. No one was in sight without the cab- in. D'Arnot was perplexed :o note that neither the crulser nor the Arrow was at ancior in the bay. An atanosphere of loneliness pervaded the spot, which caught suddenly at both men as they strode towanl the bin Neither spoke, they opaned the would find beyond, ‘arzan lifted the latoh and puah great door in upon its woode fainst owed door what they ed the was deserted, (To Be Continued) @: both knew before) SMATTER PoP Historic Henpecked Husbands By Madison C. Peters 4.—THE MUCH-MARRIED MILTON. Coprright, 1018, by The Pree Publishing Co, (The New York Eveieg World), OHN MILTON'S Gret romance wae brought about during a journey Oxfordshire, when he became ecquainted with a family of str Stuart adherents. Richard Powell, the head of the family, hed fered for the Royalist cause, and on @ very small aor ot keh: a port eleven children, Miltem preposed for the hand of Mary, eldest daughter, a silly etrt of seventeen. He was thirty-five and sh known that the cavalier surroundings ené puritanical home would be an unosm- Genial cage for such @ wild bird from the Royalist forest. He brought some of har relatives to hie home, but when the customeay marti feasting and excitement were over and the gloom of the Puritan hold eettled down upon her, with the morose and moody poet her only com> panion, the place became unbearable. ‘That Milton wag a great man never entered her tittle head, and it ie age to be wondered at that the sprightly maiden pined like @ bird in « cage during the four weeks she was under the serious and preoccupied man’s roof, She wae overjoyed when he allowed her to visit her friends for a while. She did get, return for two years. Again and again he wrote or sent friends to bring Ber back, but she was obdurate. When Milton saw that she was determined to lave him he wrote hia flerce pamphlet, “Doctrine and Discipline in Divorce,” in whieh he called for an amendment of the lawé in relation to diverce end commented Wwagely on the prevailing views. Few took Miltor’s part, as they regarded him wholly to blame in thie case, A Gloomy Husband’s Misfortunes. When the Puritan arme triw Powell family obtained refuge under ied at twenty-six. ‘Milton econ became blind, With three daughters to look after he wag tn need of @ wife, and in 166 he married Katherine Woodcock, whom he loved in- tensely, and whose death in @ little more than a year wan a severe blow to the wrote of her loving care, and her memory is kept fresh by her hus- eonnet, beginning: Methinks I eaw my lote espoused saint. Tile Ife had now become dramatically ead. His three daughters were un- @utiful, scorned his authority and looked upon him with contempt. The easly service they rendered their father waa in traneoribing from his dictation the manuscript of “Paradise Lost,” which was to them amusement rather than labor, for they had many a oily Jaugh over hie sublime conveptions. Married a Woman He Was Never to See. ‘The poor motheriess girls had grown up in thelr father's blindness and too 4 great aelf-ebsorption, til-looked after and poorly educated. And not ealy @4 they neglect him, but they “did combine together and counsel his maid servant to cheat him in her marketings.”* Thi jay with his books, aad would have sold the rest. It was to remed: le atate of things ehas Milton consented to @ third marriage, five years later, es he ‘wanted a domestic companion and attendant.” He merried Filsabeth Minshull, a women whem he had never eeen and who wes « shrew. Milton was offered, at the restoration, the continuance o¢ hte employment as Latin Secretary, and being pressed by his | : i ie and die an honest man.” When the Duce of Buckingham called Oftiton’s it “Tm Ot cole eke Che Catan CC tee tems en eee Ghe aot only made him suffer, but ghe oppreased hie chiléren and them at his desth, ewered: “You, Itke other women, want to ride tm your each; ay be The Cabaret Singer Copyright, 1918, by The Wrens Puttishing Oo, (The New York Mvening World), 66 O y4@R I seen bim up where he worked 2 D know,” | with @ jag—just @ atce boy wit bok informed | made the mistake uv Connie, “thet the] uy rock an’ rye in between, as theayters in New/a@ absinthe trappe an’ « ssidel York {e feet put-|eener. An’ he wus sayin’ lots tin’ the s'loons in| brow things tn Latin (he dein’ © que| wus gettin’ fresh, eo h . to the teble en’ tells him that “Why, I remem-'don't put @ Maxim Silencer on ber the time, when | golden tones he'd land him « ened 1 wae « kid, an’ Idler Wells wallop that'd sever his taste used to ait in the|frum his tongue! That made o fleres trolley car an'|hit with me, ‘cause I'm natchurally ef‘ count the sloons/e shrinkin’ nature an' I just LOWR woln’ by, an’ every tenth s'loon I'd eat | protection, Go before the evening wus & peanut an’ five cents worth wewlda't | over T sent the dooserie home by par- Iaat no tim But now, say, do yuh/cei post an’ et a Swiss cheese samd- know the other day I wus lookin’ my-| wich with the new on solf blind ¢or « piace to buy stamp) “Weil, I used to go there night after an’ 1 couldn't find nothin’ but theay-| night an’ ait with hin in the ttle cage tres!” where they'd wait thetr turn to eing. ‘How do they fill ‘en? 1 stghed, An’ then he'd get up an’ render ‘I Hear “They ain't Milin' ‘em by @ long shot,” | You Calling Me’ He tad adenoids, “You should have taken a try at acting flerce, an’ it made him sound Mike he yourself,” I tattered, “you'd have made wWua studyin’ with a French eingin’ good, I warrant.” | teacher, an’ gee! all the dames ‘4 throw "Me?" sho exclaimed scornfully. a fit over him. An’ then, when ft ‘Why, I got grease paint mixed with | wouldn't be his turn to sing fer twenty che marrer uy my bones, I wuz meant | minutes or # half hour he'd trot me out fer the ®ay gollghtly, but Ma, she wua/in the cafe an’ blow me to eats an’ Jum a pickle-a res‘lar gherkin, she wuz, sikn the check Ike he wus the feel an’ when I wuz havin’ spasms ‘bout | thing in bank balances. goln' on she pulled that ‘Leah, the For-| ‘So all went sweet until about a month paken’ stuff ‘bout rather weein’ me dead | after I met him, An’ one night ‘when at her 7% B's than behind the foot-|we wus polishin’ off a grilled beef bone Lights in @ union sult! So, uv course, he says: T had to do the dootiful offspring an’, “ ‘I gotta aquare fer this month's fod- learn to be @ manipulator uv rubber |der to-night, an’ I'm shy about etm ett.” | thirty-five, Connie dear.” jay, Connie, did you ever fall in love| ‘That wuz enough. I'd had @ eneakie’ with an actor?" [ asked curloualy, ear all the time that no ope was “A roa! actor?’ whe modifled, “No! | feedin' my face every night fer o oath |'Cause I ain't never seen @ real one | jist because they liked to see the gold |'cept frum the gallery at Mfty a throw, | flash when I Fletcherised, So I beft An up there they ail look Me | that there beef bone half clothed, en’ they're foveshortened in thelr bulld, an’ | 1 gaye with meanin’ |1 certainly do love « Greclan figger on “Say, kid, don't yuh hear ‘em calitu’ | The nearest I come to|yuh now? T do, T hear ‘em phetm }@ mant No. fallin’ fer stage stuff wus when I wuz|yuh better skid, William, while the squifty over a cabaret singer, roads is yet olled:" “Gee, he wus popular! The first night| “An? he elas