The evening world. Newspaper, December 1, 1913, Page 17

"The Evening World Daily Magazine, Monday, December 1.1913 | Fri. SIRI ERIN enn ana rnin ny i wright. 1918, by Tse Pree Publishing Co, New York Krening World.) Ci dea Ria ARATE Tels Bare is MADE oF “PIG: SHTIN! sNO THR, (TITH NOT qe SISTER’S KID BROTHER 4 Lecture for Boys and Girls Oniy, Deitoered Before the Orange Llossom S eciety By Elsa Crosby. The Story of Clothes Odd Origins of Mosern Fashions Copyright, 1918, by The Press Publishteg Oo, (The New York Dventng World). HERE'S hard sted- Ging for Cupid in every home where a nice dig sister with more or less steady company divides honors with «@ brother who Ig too big to de caged, too Attle to be chained. too fly to de gagged tn@ too influential to de subjected to dutside pressure from the police Tove may laugh a merry he, ha! at fcksmiths or even gas fitters, but 't hasn't a chance in a hundred when Qattte Brother with @ large mouthful ‘9 miscellaneous conversation butts in- to the game and tries to assist romance And boost #tster along the road to early matrimony. Zong before she has received the Urst direct hint that her company |e really, truly serious, and while she is sasing him along with neat squares of home-made fudge and luring him on with slabs of fruit cake, hoping always for @he dest, Little Brother usually fampe er tumbles to conclusions and preceede to recite a piece suited to the dceasion, as he sees it. In this ready monologue he introduces fragmenta of family Mistory and ex- tracts from the record which might Domestic By Alma well make a cautious young man hesl- tate, turn pale and reach for hie hat. Seeing that he has scored a hit, Little Brother follows his hand by making up something on sister and putting it over as a terrible secret. This he does with every manifestation of glee, and dares sister to say that every word ef {t fen't true. With cold perspiration standing on her alabaster brow and warm blushes mounting tq her cheek and mingling with the rouge, aister squirms to e: cape and in desperation cats mamma. Being the usual rel'ef party in such emergencies, mamma follows the es- tablished rule and telie the sister's young man not to pay the slightest at- tention to anything the boy says. Then she warns the boy that if he doesn't behave properly ehe'll tell his father, Another slab of fruit cake Is pushed toward his sister's company and mother retires. Warnings and threats have no effect on sister’s little brother. Experence has proved that the only way to reach him and keep him at a fair distance from the cosy corner is by direct brib- ery. He etands for honest graft. He believes in holdupe. Gister may be sure of one thing. Any young man who has nerve to stand for a kid brother and not get cold feet is almost as good as a solitaire in hand Tf kid brother can't blight ¢! she has a eure thing. Dialogues Woodward, Coprright, 1018, by The Prem Publishing Co, (The New York Evesing World), “Two Nice Seate, Please. ’” i tre tnbbies, RS. A. (enthuslastically)—Oh, T've just been dying to this play! I’m #0 glad we're going. Mr. A. (approaching box- Mfice)—Gimme two dollar seats. Treasurer (briefly) — All sold out. Mr. A. (leaving box office)—It's a very funny thing. Will Jones sald he saw this show Monday night and he said he tould ‘a’ had any seat in tl houae. It's @ very funny thing they're all sold dut to-night. Mrs, A. (reprovingly)—That was Mon- night. You must remember that jaturday night !s the most popular tight In the week. Mr, A. (disgruatied)—Umph! ™M " sulting her memorandum) yw the next thing I've got on my Net that I want to see ts five blocks 3p, on the other side of Broadway. we to walk fast or we'll be late for the curtain. Mr, A, (breathless)—Gimme two one follar seats, in the first balcony, on the aisle. ‘Treasurer (briskly) — Standing room oly. My. A, (bluntly)—What! ‘Treasurer (louder) — Standing room— Admission one dollar. Mr, A. (flaring up)—Ye-eh! And how nany seats have the speculators got, th? I thought the theatrical business was on the biink this year, eh? On the dlink nothin’! Mrs, A, (pulling him away) — Now fon't you go and get all excited, Henry, ‘r you'll get nervous indigestion, and Men when we DO get in somewhere Tou'll be miserable all evening. Any- how, you don’t do a bit of good by it. Mr, A, (vehemently)—Well, by gosh, tome day it'll do some good, If the public’ only boycott ‘em until they stopped thie filmflam business! Let ‘em Play to empty benches for a couple of months! I guess they'd be glad enough then to sell you dollar seats! Mrs. A. (mildly)}—You don’t handle them right. You just let me ask for the tickets at the next place. I you TU get them. Mr. A. (acorntu! Say, mother, you that fifteen yea: Iy)—Yes, you will! ight have worked but at this you're a little too shirred about the! sills. And all these box office fellows! are chicken inspectors, remember. Don't put yourself in line for a throwdown. Mrs, A. (smiling into treasurer's face) —T'd Ike two, nice, one dollar seats for to-night, if you could find them for me. ‘Treas. (leaning forward and returning the smile)—I'm sorry, madam, but there fan't a dollar seat left in the house, I can give you a cholce box seat, though, for a dolar and a half. Mrs. A. (triumphantly, over her shonlder)—Henry, give me another dol- lar. I'm getting two choice box seats. ‘Mr. A, (as they enter)—Gee, they get your money easy. I thought we'd agreed not to spend more'n a dollar fer our seats. Mra, A. (supercilious!y)—Well, any one that can get a choice box seat, on Saturday night, for a dollar and a half'd be a fool not to— (They are ushered upward and then some, Fin. ally the boy pulle beck the box curtains, The view of the dust that has accumulate! en top the proscenium arch for the past decate oa couldn't be beat. ‘They can see exactty four and | sert one half inches of the stage, back of the foot. Ligtrts,) Mra, A. (indignantly)—Weill! What do you think of—— Mr. A, (chuckling)—Taere's nothing ben to it! Afric fowl can't etea! broiler stuff ‘thout getting atung! Now ait down and look pleasant; and next time let papa call ‘em anything he's @ mind to! First, what action daughters TT the cli “TC.” writes; “I am in love with @ (irl and ghe has promised to marry me when we get @ little older, But I have found that ehe flirts with other men. Do you think that ts right?” If the girl has become engaged to you of Der own free will she ought to give tp the attentions of others, “H. N." writes: “Do you think that @ Swo young persons love each » Betty Vincent’s Advice to Lovers HAT part should parents play in determining the matrimonial choice of thelr sons and daughters? ‘The answer to this question falls into two parts: parents may take before their children come of age; second, what may be done when the boys and girls are legally grown up, Before the maturity! of their children parents may depend on the veto power, though, if they are wise, they will not exercise it too arbitrarily in ahis liberty loving age. But even when absolute authority ends I believe that fathers and mothers should take an (nterest in the possible future partners of thelr sons and 9 should be @ thorough snvestigation of 8 of all candid that 4s impartial, though not hostile, The results should be laid before the young persons affected. Then if thay marry unwisely they at least marry with their eyes open ma @hey cannot later reproach their parents for leaving them unwarned. diy they should marry, since the, for matrimony~an Irvestigation dev @ri {s two years older than the man?’ Yes, {f they are eure their affection is lasting. “X. 8." writes, “Should a yong man who ts not engaged to @ young lady call her ‘his dear? Should he kiss her?” A ee Which {s which? called? Is it not a science to live a bright life in a world so dark? And Might not they exchange names and be as rightly he Fanmest Story of America's| By Mary Roberts Rinehart Where There’s a Will i Greatest_ Woman Humorist (Copyright, 1912, by Bobbe- Merrill Co.) SYNOPSIS OF PRECEDING CHAPTERS. “Tie Old Dortor,"* owner of @ mineral spring the ertablishment 10 ia 00 condition that Dick one me water," he said, ° recall of my chemistry it is distinctiy Springs have been known to their character, and the coinci- the dog and the water is cer- ‘tling. Stil, as nobody feels She turned in the doorway and looked back at me, with tears in her eyes. shot last night!” Seif into a convulsion on that rabbit i eanatorium, dies, leaving “and forgive me if I have ever unkind to you." CHAPTER XXI The Mutiny HBY went to the wether, he carrying Arabella like a sick baby and Miss} remarked a young business woman. Patty beside him, sald anything down at Arabella. Or rather I thought I was alone, for by one of the Patty came forward But they weren't sure they 4idn’t. The bishop said he felt perfectly weil, inclination to there was @ windows and An far ae didn't to each other, but once of twice I aaw her turn and look up at him as if ane was puzsled, 1 closed the door and stool Just in- e, looking at father's picture over As sure as I stood ther the eyes were fixed on the spring, and you may say, what they} apt to purch 1 looked down pemed to me it arm had gone to sleep. And then, wits the absurdities!’ the excitement and all, Miss Cobb took @ violent pain in the back of her neck and didn't know whether to ery or to Speak a word She put the dog's head tn her tap, and the little beaat opened its eyes and tried to wag its blue tall. Well, I did what I could. The worst of it was, I wasn't sure it wasn't the I thought possibly Mr. je a mistake in the drug store, and although I don't as a rule drink it myself, I be- to feel queer claimed, and 1 got down beside cried on her shoulder, with her stroking d calling me dearest! T was wiping my eves was thrown open and He had no hat on wan powdered with snow the door and real t le. cloned with Fatty Jenaingee schoolgirl what he had to le» arrange to stay there for the actreas, inte the spring, and it Prince, under the “inoognito'? He and Pierce clash, a tut the edge nad jaifts that bring the grea en taken off my nose, 90 to speak, by being there so long. rom the spring T looked again at Mr. Thoburn came over to the spring and filling 4 glass took it to the light, watching anxiously. When he brought it back he stooped ‘over the railing and whispered to me. did you fix ly ot unnoticed by the CHAPTER XX. Every Dog Has His Day. R. THORBURN looked around aw he'd made an im- ‘happening which ald, ‘you are all right? vourntul and aad her, with his heart in hia mast Wave Known trom that turned the whole affair to ti tage of the house, and it wae almost more than I could bear, glad the old doctor's enlargemeat had st night.” 1 answered © beat about the bush. ‘8 yellower than to think somet! the drug store, Minnie. whe exclaimed, "I th I was only | eye: were poisoned!” She looked up, without smiling, then T thought she half shut her eves, as if what she saw in his face hurt “although my per- sonal opinion of this water Is that it's growing too weak to be wicked. I prove my faith in Mother Nature; If it fs polsoned, IT am gone. Sam suddenly ‘and glanced at Miss Summers. haps I'm mistaken, gomething the matter on of al! the gues’ am all right," she assured will be al! right, too, lying around and foaming, and me going to prison as a wholesale murderess. mine would have turned gray in that J little Arabella m overeating. Inwald was watching the others, and now he came over and with Arabella Everybody looked. ing on her back, jerking and twitching ming at the mouth. been poisoned!’ Miss Summers eched, and fell on her knees beside ‘a that wretched water’ was pretty nearly a riot in a averybody jumped stared at the dog, and evershody membered the water he or #he had just had, and coming on top of Mr. burn'a speech, it made tham babbling 8 T 100k back, Th of picture of Miss Summers on the floor with Arabella in her telling how much of the water they had nd crowding around Mr. Arabella was ly- "1 said bitterly, “fam watering ince had been am first to scurry coming fomward bath and poured a little to nen what he thought Of the, the snow > 4 looking nard at ething outside in the snow That's what J am.” taggered out, with Mrs. Biggs fust d him, and from that moment thes ok triumphant Now lets have a ge id he stooped over and poked Arabella ip en't afraid of : der on and the rest Barnes or to get which somebody ae an antidote, 4h Wak Mee Miss Codd was ane Of she iat te go losed the door had suggested ‘The most prudent girls do not permit!), er jeuch Cammiiarition, auxe a tot of damn dog in & Bt and have one, p00, te Mes ale from Ae pockeh She bad gorged & the men sarcastically when 66D Fine men government,” say women take @ hand {n any af- IT*". CENTURY PETICOAT fair, These masculine critica sometimes peak loftily of @ ladles’ sewing circle or Uterary clu “a lot of petticonta,” and yet if they only knew It the word and the garment have a distinctly mas- ouline origin. It was not #0 many cen- turies ago that our forefathers were wearing @ garment which went by that name. In an inventory of the effects of Sir John Faatolfe in the year 14) are men- tloned two “petticoats,” one of linen cloth “stuffyd with fokys (whatever that Is) and the other of linen cloth, but without sleeves, And why shouldn't @ gentleman of that pertod have pettl- coats If he wanted them? For a pettl- coat was simply a “petty,” or short, coat, worn by men in the fifteenth cen- tury beneath the longer coat or gown. Now {t ts quite @ jump between a coat worn by men to # skirt sacred to wowen, Yet the transition’ is simple enough. The coat was originally a tong Tobe, and the “petty coat” worn under it was also long, something like a loose ehirt or tunic. At thin time there was very little difference between men's and women's dress, Hoth sexes on state occasions is {t not folly to spend in solemn meditation what little time we have to] wore loose flowing robes richly em- walk on this green globe? broidered and adorned with fur. The men discarded these for a short thme when engaged in active pursuits, such as hunting or Mghting, and as time went on did away with them altogether. GGFTTHTS Idea of giving practical I presente at Christmas doesn't | recently appeal to me at all,’ “At Christmas time I want to bring cheer and happiness to my friends; and a girl, for tnatance, get any out of a gift of atockingn’ | "This Is @ necessity In life and every of course, she buys them. I want to nt is not e for himself or hi velf—something that they regard in the light of a luxury. Those are the t pleasure.” {5 must have them. And therefore, give presents whose rec! The speaker had the right thoughts, but her !deap of a practical gift were limited. Take her own Iitustration, It is possible that a gir! who earns her not be overjoyed when yox and finds a couple of pairs of cotton stockings. But let her fall upon w pair of soft slik ones,! ‘2 possession she has seen only in own living Ww she opens a any reason for your being scared wall- cyod and knock-kneed?* “I'm not!” I snapped. “Well, you're wall-eyed with fright.” he insisted, "OF course, you're the best judge of your own knees, but after last night- Wad any lunch? 1 shook my head. “ "he naid, “You make me think of the little boy who dug post- laytime and took in Wash- ings at night to aupport the family. 1 eat, ° Inhale and exhale slowly four tim and then ewallow the lump in your + + Gone?" “Good.” He was fumbling tn his pocket and he brought out When he opened it there w wie! eco of cheese and banana. you think of that?” he asked, anxiously Looks g to disappoint enough to eat a raw Italian.’ hen fall to.” he directed, and with a Mourish he drew @ bottle of ginger “srandmoth: suggested it up. ‘Cheers but a gia: Minn cially when he assured me the wa the place? ‘em all day and dream ‘em all night, of them, every on hold and the hatches dow By Andre Dupont ‘Copyright, 1913, by The Prees Publishing Co, (The New York Eveaing World), THE MASCULINE ORIGIN OF THE PETTICOAT. But the women retained this under- coat and looped up the skirts of the outer robe over it to show the rich ma- terial of which It wax made, And thus it was worn for many years as @ skirt which showed only in front. It underwent many lations, In the days of Queen Elizabeth it sweiled to monstrous proportions to acconin date the farthingale or structure of ates! and whalebone shaped iike @ drom, the forerunner of the hvvp skirt of our day Not until the beginning of the nine- teanth century was the petticoat at last ousted from its rank as a prominent part of the costume to become a gar- ment to be worn out of sight. And of late even worse has befallen it, Under the tight skirt of to-day it ts often not worn at all. PETTICOAT AS WORN SYM Copyright, 1913, by The Pres Publishing Co, (The New yurk Eveuing World), dreams, and her delight may know yo bounds, Gloves are a necessity, and & girl is Just longing for a r pair of white kid gloves or a prett Palr of long white silks, Many girte can afford only one pair of kid gloves ata time, And what a pleasure to them to be able to have a change! Roth stockings and gloves are prac- tical gifts, but when presented as hey become luxuries. By the way, these two articles ought always to be presented with permission for ex- change if the gift is really to afford perfect satisfaction. Some merchants well glove certificates which make It possible for the holder to make his or her own selection, ‘Tho girl who frequents the theatre will appreciate a theatre ge! which, while a luxu: withal quite pra - t It consists of a dag in a com- bination of pompadour silk and me- tallic lace and @ fetching cap to match, E coulde'E” hate. anti ote. oe eee oareeieecanaerssncnesbedimmmenmemmnataninnamereanectamaties ane aving It see what had occurred. The only thing T could think of w. to empty the spring 1 could put a Mttle sul- phur in to give it color and flavor, and turned out that Mr. Arabella was tton, I could put in the other th “How'e thie?” he mai . holding Penge iin not a headache in @ barr. to the ging ‘A quart of ale is a dish fe "he sald, hclding up ‘s Shakespeare, Miss Td choked de wn the sandwic! enpe- was all right—"a little high, as you might say, but not poisonous, Lord, T wish you could have seen them stag- into my office!” aw enough,” I sald with a shiver. “That German, von Inwald,” he “he's the Umit. He accused Ing him for reasons ef ered, putting t hae been ever since I struck batha! I prescribe of ti + In the