The evening world. Newspaper, August 1, 1913, Page 11

By Andre Dupont. ‘Guprright, 1918, ty The Press Publics ing Co. (The Now York Evening Warld). BARMLESS MAKE-UP FOR THE WOMAN OF THIRTY. ‘ © you approve of MAKING UP the face?’ asked the Average Gi: D “I do not object to @ little harmless make-up in gome cases," Feplied the Woman of Thirty. “In a young girl I think it is a crime. Om Gisguste’ with the crude paint and powder, the unnaturally vivid lps of of etghteen of ninetéen. It coarsens their faces and takes fay en- tirely the charn of youth (the only charm, by the way, that many of them will ever possess), and it makes them look vulgar and fast. “But what is an older woman to do who finds herself be- coming sallow and on whom exercise and rulee of diet have ap- parenly no effect? Must she go through fe looking h woret? Can you blame her for improv. ing her appearunce oy a touch of art? I always make up my eee FoR PINK EAR TIPS ears, for instance, when I'm tired. “When I get tired I am always very pale and worn looking. Now, a pink lobe to the ear casts a faint flueh over the ‘cheek. And it ts aleo Youth, and so makes a fagged-out woman look youn I ait before a glass in & @00d leht and very catefully rub a lttlé rouge on the lobe of each ear. If I Get on too much I rub ft off with a rag until it is just a faint natural looking dink, For putting on the rouge one can | #0 @ rabbit's foot or one of the French Powder pads that is made with a han- tle. Even the tip of the finger will do very well for this purpose if nothing @lpe {6 hand, “Anothef wicked thing that I do is te make up my neck in the ning, or whenever I am going to w a low- cut gown. My skin, though very healthy, has an old ivory tinge, far from pretty. Se I massage it thoroughly with cold cream, rub this off with a soft hand- berebief, then take a powder pad and rub powder all over my neck and up over the edges of my chin. This, of course, makes it startlingly and un- naturally wiite, But I don't let it stay aa. With a plece of old linen I rub off all that shows Enough remains to make my neck look very pretty.” / “Do you ever rouge your cheeks?” ~ “No, I don't. You know the French eay that the only crime about rouge !s te have ft show. And it always shows on my face. I believe in using it as a goed chef uses onlons—‘just a suspi- cio.’ The beautiful French woman rubs the outer corner of the (Cheek in eo skilful @ manner that you would never guea# it was there. “But never make up until you're thirty, Not then unless you really o+ed to.” BETTY VINCENT'S ADVICE TO LOVERS Parents’ Wishes. her rudeness before giving her up. S" OULD « Perhaps she doesn't realize it. young man marry against the wisher of hin! Parents? NECK MAKE UP tiny bit on the cheek bone, below La well young man and I were recently separated. I wrote a letter, to which he did not reply. Think- |ing something might have happened, 1 Ph Pg the see wrote another, but have received no able are arsed newer to that. Should I make any that ne man, or/more advances?” Cwenty-one shoulg| TOM Boule Bol marry in oppoal-| "'N. ©." writes: “If a young man ts tion to the paren-| bashful in making engagements is it tal will, In fact,| right for me to help him out?” many Btates de-| It is not your place to do ec. euch mar- —_—_ iegal and] “A, 9." writes: “How should ‘the card not binding. And ‘when persons who of the oldest daughter of the family are still children in the eyes of the law | be engraved?" comtract marriages that are detrimental) simply “Mies Blank,” in the eyes of those most interested in {Chelation name, thelr happiness the chances of scent | Out Walking. seem to me IL But the case s different for the ma-| “A. M." writes: “When welking with ture men or woman. When a person's |two girls, should my position be between Judgment 18 declared competent for con-!them or cn the outside?” ducting bisiness affairs he ought to; The latter. know his owr mind in the matter of My advice to young persons | without the [Bach of two young ecept his exclusive elves a larger salary “A. 8." writes decision for themselves. In the Restaurant. ‘ms, C." writes: “When a lady sand Aogentleman go to a restaurant which | "W. does the ordering?” | & vor The gentiema: comeults the lad } Who doesn’t make so much, What shall |r dor” | Let your heart guide your cholee, man about @ year age, But although he usually; he Metened to untruthful gossip about | me and refused to epeak to me for a [long time, Now he hints that he wante ‘94, H1." writes: “A young 1s saya to come back, @hall I again counte- that he loves me, but when we go out nance hi entions?'’ fan@ happen to meet a man friend she It depends how strong your fee page more attention to him than to me. ing for him le, At any rate, you should "Gavia vener remnotete to see her?” remonewite With Preferences. linster om bie trusting yeu_Jp the fur Ber tor ee and then blends it down to the centre of the; | mental callings may have een inberied by but that they make the final matrimonial 'enan the other, but I like best the one CHEWING THE RAS 1 CaN BEAT IT OUT THe BACK DooR AND RUN OVER TD “THE CWB! BACK FENCES LIKE WHEN 1 WAS A KIO! WHERE | PUT OVER ON “THE FRav! (Copsright, 1013, by H, K. Fly Oo SYNOPaS OF PRECEDING CHAPTERA, daroee Cluny, Yorker, ig about to jeny ad ue excites, the she, mF ae f pt Ace Felis to wea fot se pte ner hie if it as safe for him to gccentrie, uncie'e f CHAPTER IV. him quietly, “For my = part I think you are the luckiest ehap in w York City, “Oh, I know that. Don't confuse my meaning, Willoughby. There isn't @ flaw to be found in my future parente- in) fafa except possibly mamma's deaf- s e seen her ear-trumpet?—and Madge is the dearest girl in the world.” “Then what are you fuming about?’ “My late Uncle James's affiiction. His occasional tendency, to tell outrageous falsehoods and st to them, notwith- standing that sometimes they caused ferrible complications. Suppose his dreadful weakness should suddenly ex- press iteelt in m: “Nonsense!” “Well, suppose my wife or her par- ents ghould learn of my uncle's ailment —I believe it was ean atiment, and hot ™moral perversity”— “I'm ure of it,” threw in Dr, Wille oughby, quietly, “Well, wouldn't they think that, as Uncle James wae my faths ‘prothen, Sheet I migtht be subject to the same sort of attack? Then they would he sure to watch me, and the nervous strain of being under constant survelllan any one outside of the he fenly new of it, A nervous breakd: from overwork it ¢ om nervous diseases hi aa bes practitioner (ike myself comes acrose them now and then, Thore is no reason oo hur ould confide your uncle's Beet «tree oat “Would keep a skeleton ke that se Why Gone 3 worry her abet g thlng met mighs caver kepeee, Se 2 e Aue. Stop Thief! The Great Laugh-Story of the Summer ef mest bw | 1 have been Sornse o o /"yuaineen ti ghe to oan leave my lor ¢he four intended phakbdyay tre omania, ing things?" 8. Only we doctors don't speak of ft that way, We know the difference tween an uncontrollable impulse when mind is slightly out of balance, and vulgar, sordid theft.” Hm!” for Instance.” “A kleptomaniac nearly always takes something for which he has no need, or for which he could pay without feeling 1f he did happen to want | "An!" “That's kleptomantia.” “Do the magistrates and juries ususi- ly call tt that?” » And I believe that sometimes a person morally innocent, but gullty in the opinion of the taw, suffers punish- mént en he should be placed under treatment.” re] of one thing Inhe any mental it "doce not ‘ake the direction mania," corrected Dr, Will- ht. Cali it what you like, But I would rather be @ liar than a thief.” je paused. “At least I think I would, ther of them ts dostestabie.”” ju are not likely to be troubled to decide netween them, my dear James,” Dr. Willoughby, “In the first cestor—your father, mamplemand again, it hy 3 only when your uncle way strain of overwork" — “Overwork?” broke in James. Cluney We Babee Stopping in his walke as if shot, to face the dactor, Nervous breakdown! That pu eat Pesci. ‘Dr. Willoughby was be- coming impatient of his friend's obstin and he spoke shortly. fumes Cluney strode up and down the room half a dozen times before he spoke again, Then, after @ glance at the clock on the mantel, he swung around to hie friend and sald solemnly: “Dr, Willoughby, T ry thie marriage ohould ot be allowed to go on. “Im the name of heaven, why?" roared the doctor, Seraph echoed Civaey in @ voice al- meat ag loud as the oth to be eway from New Tork, on my—ba, ha!—my wedding @an’t you see thet I'm run ead om in my uncle's exact con- tion when rg was stricken? 1 feel even aa Uf } should have to _- out. aide and Foo! that | am the Bm- peror of dermany, ov Litiiam Russell, or ly, just for the pleasure of paerte an ee * ie, » Ive got “Dea! Te e ames," onid Will- ' too much contempt for thi thing. ‘al “Tm ‘giad of it. bles take various directions, oughby, with the familiarity of a com- de. a er knew you to tell @ do- fe," ood In your Ii! But that T heve wort of But the other—this awful (iepo- sition to disregard the truth—that's whet J brat mee before as I ought to give you a hro- the ceremony,” observed Dr, Willoughby, looking thoughtfully at his friend. nd do it? You’ “You are in the condition bachelors wien they better red of the prospect of the great- iness a man can know,” "m not. I want to be marrte why the blazes don't you go have to hurry, too, I'll 0 and get a tax! and we'll both hustle off to “AM t) Dr. jaca, an uncle is not like a direct an-epustled out. one or two Seventy-second str right! sald Cluney, “morosely. But I know I oughtn't to do it” I can't go all the w I've got to drop into my ‘ore I go to the Carrs’ house. I jenis who are In But UN go after a critical ata xi, anyhow,” / iMoughby picked up his hat and He was one of the ener- wetlc young doctors who are to be found in fair numbers 1 eee ie Se ny jarme city, who thelr pro n before anything on earth, and who jong with a more exer than an Indian on the warpath. Jam Cluney put on hie hat end stuffed his white gloves into his tall- pocket, the pocket In and again dived in. ie out this time it held a Then he drew hin hi hurry, glov When hi valuable out of lace doiley which he recognised as one he had admired at a house he had visit- ed the last afternoon on which he had worn the clothes he now had on. For the doiley in his hand, vacantly, examined worked | “You, & minute or more he stood with staring at it Then he put in on the table the elaborate initial ‘one corner, ite a 'V.' This le the thing Mra, Van Zoon showed me and said it had copgt 60 before she had her initial put on ft, Deuce take the thing, How id dt come into my pocket?! He rambled up and down. tryin, remember, Suddenly he slapped his right fist into his open left hand and swore softly, Then he placed the delicate web of face carefully in hie desk and looked it. Van Zoon and can, about. have to get thie back to Mra, ain it the best way I 1 worder what I was Conese Probably I wasn't thinklag af Hello! : 7 bis on the presci Dence tang Bie his Drescriptio ! Wh fe the use of mi to me? I'm ovemrires, and i¢ 1 don't take to iying, flke my Uncle Jam J suppose I shall recover puesnanoaly he place In the upper pocket of his w: teoat, and took up his hat, glove: id overcoat, dust as) Willoughby came in, “Hurry, now, James thy door, time. the fountain ‘The text ts at You've got to be at the house at half an hour before the ceremony, talk over things with your new fath- ir thing repli Dr. Willoughby, with the confidence of one who had never been through ft. “By the way, did you see anything of my fountain pen? I think I left It on the table “Did you?” asked Cluney, absently; “I wonder how my new sisters will like me when they get to know me well, “I wonder what can have hecome of that pen?” grumbled Willoughby, look: Ing about the floor, when he did not find his property on the table. do you think, Cluney?” “1 don't know what to think,” the reply, for James Cluney's mind left the fountain pen and was fixed o1 approachii ‘What J Joying herself where ehe went. is doing that, and of course I am giad of it. think that it is possil get any pleasure out of life when she is bru in my loti that I am as lonesome as “dn Covrriaht, 1912, by The Pree uollshing Co, (The Now York Brenig Word), FIFTH DAY. BELIEVE I'm @ queer fish. I don't know my, own mind, My wife went away five days ago. Since then there have been times when I've been #0 internally lonesome that I feit ike Grabbing the first train and going to her. Then again there have been times when the tranquillity of this flat and the sooth: ing sense of irre- sponsibility h e felt s0 good that I felt mighty glad that she was en- Enjoying hereelf, Of course she But somehow a fellow hates to le for his wife to way from him. The vanity of the » I presume, Of course, I tell her @ hound. 4 sometimes I am. But then again sometiines I am not. There- fore I am fetolary bunkologiet.. ‘Well, 1 guess I'll have to let it go at Didn't get much fun out of the sum- mer show with nobody to talk te, f oat at s table on the roof, ordering a G@rink now and then and trying to make w 6.—Jamee Jerome Hill. AMES J. HILL began life in Canada in 188. His boyish ambition was and ne had to ear world lost « doctor and gained oh Young Ailll worked for a while in a country store, Then he moved to 6t. Paul, Minn.—it was almost @ fron- tler town in those days—and got a Jud as checking clerk on the jocks. He foresaw the Weat' He saw that the river trad hopes Willoughby has left that! hung on two items, fuel and transporta- tion, And on fuel and transportatior —_——— my soul, so itis, 1 Bocee it was mine, Forgot I had on a diffe! coat” Then, as Willoughby 4 out of the room, James Cluney pressed his hand” to his forehead and groaned: "But, good Lord, how is it I find myself with two me In one ~-No, I can't, belleve that, It would be orrt and you haven't too much 9. a troubled face was not that of a happy bridegroom. CHAPTER V. The Pigeon-Blood Rub, YSTERIA reigned i the how One felt it us he wal Might of high As James Cluney movi 4oor in front of Willoughby, Then he Pointed to hie friend's walsteoat pocket, from which protruded the end of the fountain that yours, Tames?’ he asked, What?" hat pen. Why, yes ¥ always carry my pen me. “Let'e have » look at I! James Cluney took the pen from hie pocket—and it seemed to Willoughby that he did it slowly—and handed {t to the doctor, This jo my pen, James. There was a note af’ horrer in the Aoctor'n voice, ae If he had discovered perastning be feared, but had been hop- ng 0 ‘our pen?” cried Cluney, “Levé bless in A ferment that one pected from 4 aur rior, t hat ts generally known & “private wedding.” The cer mony by which Mies Madge Carr would become Mra. James Cluney would take ence only of relatives ate friends, and, fo far as the public at large was In- forméd, the whole proceeding would be an cool and devoid of excitement as the North Pole before Peary got there. Bome auch egtimate of the Carr fam- ly and their wedding wae in the mind of the i | a fpr whom Jack Doogan had ealled Nell as a! ecended the brownstone steps to take her position as lady's maid in the employ of Mrs. William Carr. A suitcase was in her band. ‘Mor ring of the electric doorbell was How Living Millionaires **Got Their Start’? Copyright, 1913, by The Prem Publish ing Go, (Phe Now York Srening Wortd), to bé a doctor, But his father died u mysele belleve at I wae a olippy bagh’ out for @ good time, but somehow it didn’t work out. The woosy music bar me lonesome and the jokes I didn’t believe there weary. deing o of @ cut-up doesn't revisit me, to It apf may. 1 suppose I've used to the clanking of the chain Well, there's worse musie! Didn't notice any pretty women show. Not one of them could held candle for good looks to Friend Funny thing how ali of ue in time . to believing that our own wives are the finest lookers on earth. I've netieed that most of the other martied I know have the same got my number to see chape—you can always married, even at a su ting around joshing their having @ good time, T believe I'm lonesome der if she's going to month? I hope she comes back @ lot sooner Guess I'l write her a evening. \ F HH Lut it ~ i } i Ei : 13 wv he made himeelf an expert. Seon he broke into the river steamer business. His genius m this work prosper | he wae enough to take his) He turned from boats te trains. The @. Paul & Pacific Railway was in debt and badly run down. Mill gained contral of the road, built it wp. and thus launched out upon his great railroad career. Any man might have’ | taken advantage of the region's won- derful tutu. But Hill chanced te be one of the very few men with braine’ enough to make that same future play into his hands, soon answered, and, fur- ead of by 6 maid in demure black and white, as she a had expected. But the young lady who had let her in wes too full of her own affairs and er's who wi take carefuly note of the hays mal . Pm ter, You know that we & wedding here to-day?” Carr told me Eree. tom on the bride—Mise Mi Well, you may “call me ites Our other sister is Miss, “Yeu, Misa Caroline,*: "We have had a littl trouble with our servants, and th was no one te door, That ie why I cama” volunteered Misa Caroline, as she led Nell into the ierey loo! it here a f Mother will come an sive you ute full Instructions.” Carr flounced out! her laces perfumed sephyr that Mell appreciatively. ‘Jack would figure her worth about @ red and fifty dollars, I should: Nell of the dow: ring on her finger worth and her gown and elet would pol ty-five more, That com) in the back of her head is phony.” Nell made these calculations aceeré> * ing to a formula given to her by Jack Dovgan. It was to feure as cl possible the value of the thing wanted to annex and then cut it to one-fourth, The latter was you would get from a Were lucky and put u) biuft, Before Nel had fintshed her este’), mate of Caroline Carr's worth te the” verson who could filoh her personel; outht she had put down the suitcase te take @ ewoeping glance at the room... As the door closed she became eu@- denly active. She ran swiftly over to the table, then to a hookcloset, whisk she opened and shut swiftly, vent tort an instant over @ large steel safe the table and tried the ha: to find it securely locked, and, Matentng @ moment, went to pd the duore in the room end “Well, let & to