The evening world. Newspaper, October 1, 1918, Page 17

i? " ie and Yourself By Charlotte Wharton Ayers Copyright, 1918, by The Press Publish ON'T you know some one whose D little habits annoy you almost Of course bevond enduranee? you do, very= body does, And 1 vever hear some such complainy hat £ don’t think of what = Mark Twain has said, ‘othing so needs ceforming as OTHER PEO- PLE'S habits Se There's brother, Dn who will insist on Dutting bis whole slice of bread down om the tablecioth and buttering It Then he takes large bites out of the slice instead of breaking it up into bits and buttering each piece as he wants it. Or he may lay his knife and fork against each side of his plate, when he is through eating, in- Btead of placing them side by side across his plate, There's father, who always wears his eyeglasses so far down on his nose that it stops the circulation of air, and when he talks it sounds as though his nose was full of cotton, Funny how a little thing like that will annoy one, isn't it? No earth why he couldn't wear glasses up whore they belons, only he has gotten used to them down there and thinks he can't see as wel. with them any where else. Aud mother—bdless her! She will .Arive you mad, when she crosses her knees and wig-wags her foot in that funny, nervous lit The faster she talks, the faster it wags fo.th——back and forth—until you feel like throwing way head to make her stop! And DID you ever hear any one sigh | Like Aunt Mary does all the time? -back and | . pillow at her dear ing ©o, (The New York Evening Work), You'd think she'd fost the last friend she had in the world. It gives you the blues just to hear her. And wouldn't you give almost any- thing to stop the constant biting of his finger nails that Billy indulges in? And couldn't you simply shake littl Peggy when she eneezes so loud that you don’t get over the shock for hours? And the funny little way Grandma sniffles all day long, until you feel as though you would go crazy unless she stopp And is there ANYTHING more exasperating than the persan who NEVER puts a thing back from where it was taken? There is NOT. I can speak feclingly on that point Now I'm going to give you an anti- dote for all these things, Always when you notice some one else doing something that grates on your nerves and sensibilities just stop a second and look inward and see if you haven't got an equally bad habit or two that you can correct, We all] have ‘em! There isn't a single in- dividaal that is entirely free from those little personal peculiarities—and the more we notice those of other people’ the less likely are we to see our own, It takes all one's time und strength to overcome them too. They are the natural result of the critical faculty developed to a degree where we are blind to everything but “the other fellow’s habits.” Mark Twain knew what he was talking about when he said that. If you can manage to keep your| mind off your neighbor's bad habits —and fut it on your own—you will find that you will not be nearly as Much bothered by their funny little | ways aS you were before,’ and it is | worth making an effort to reach that blissful condition, | Advice to Lovers By Betty Vincent ee are foolish people who, a balf. maintain that jea sy proof of love, that in all love there must be a tincture of jealousy. Teall thess people foolish because their position will not stand anal for a moment If you really love a person you trust ‘him and you want him to be happy Therofore you wl. not doubt him, will not suspect him of deceiving you, will not be on the lookout for words and acts which prove bis lack of faith and his be- trayal of your le (There is no eurer method of inviting betrayal th by being continually the lookout for it). On the other hand, if som one whom you love tinds his happ on ness elsewhere you will be glad, eve through your suffering, that it I happiness which he has found and you will not try to hold him to a friendship or an engagement against his will, If perfect love casts out fear, how much the more does purfect love cast out jealousy and the evil spirits of envy and grudging posses.ivencs:?! Jealousy. “T. B.” writes: “Lam very much in is aj Do you think it is advisable for me to marry on such short ac- | quaintance? I do not, particularly when the ac- quaintance was made in so informal and ‘unwise a fashion. What do you know of the young man’s past life {and surroundings? How can you tell in six weeks if your attraction for him is the sort to stand a lifetime to gether? Perhaps, after you have known him longer you may decide t become his wife, hurry. And don’t make any more ae- | quaintances—even with men in uni-! form—witho introduction. | | The Mystery of th Is Partly love with a girl and I believe s es for me. We expect to be married in a Frank A few months, My family likes my colony fimancee and I have kuown her ever since wo were children, I have a good position, and apparently everything is clear sailing. “But there is one thing which makes I am of a jealous tem- B me unhappy. perament. I always have been, au I cannot help my disposition, Of course, I ‘trust my fiancee, yet it makes mo acutely miserable when * ee her talking tu another man, even at social affairs we aftend together and where she ne‘uraily moéts many friends, Sho is not a flirt, but she tion She sayy that not has a very sweet dispo ways has been popula will she cannot and snub boys Marshall as fnd finds te beat conuasns a dead T ermnan, dory to ® puiut near shore and retirns CHAPTER I, (Qvatioued,) SCOUR returned from the Marshal! cottage, after leaving Anne there, to find Bill Marks and Nelson Hobart in earnest convefuation. “[ think I'll go out and take a look at him,” Bben suid, “Will you come, Mr, Marks Marks berly. “ ind if I take 0 ahead, brings tho 100k his head, grinned so- i if I know It,” he said, the Peanut?" whom she has known all ber life, just{ ben shoved the awkward little becaus: she is € 1 to be married,| boat into the water and clambered Logically sho is right, and yet when| in, They watched bim row out to- smfortable fe ard the dory, * mane #0 uncomfortable fui] Mee wis came briskly down to ber to be pleasant ether YOURE) ihe peach, “Doe says he'll be right men, don’t you vhink night cul, reported the handy man, who vate more reserve? Our vuy quarre.s| bad been despatched with the news, are over thy question, xisuse give] Marks modded, then called ufter SE your AGY en in thi nut,, “Better aot ady advice to you is to make a most| touch anything, ‘The’ ‘coroner will . want to see | ee chin Bhat tt tae. 2 nodded assent, Herb asked: Women aie not t Kept in halems| “Where does he think he's going’ in this country. Now acd after your] "Wanted to go out and see R, marriage the girl o, who you speak ag NM En gnees fg ng to tvet other men and ve at's wh ‘ Mekoait to them, If you ubject you] They watched in silence for a mo- Simply citve a great deal of gatui-| me “He's a funny cuss, ain't be fae nha ri ‘our jeul-| Herb exclaimed ousy betore it is too and your| “Queer man," Marks agreed. warriage is spoiled fio's @ grouct,” Hobart echoed, “Who is he, anyway? dow did he . BP.” writes: m going to be| happen to come her maria, und my family wi want me| ‘Comes from a little town up in to buve ato wedding. 1 think | Maine Marks told them, “His such frnction is in bad taste, pa tather—I used to know them. fowulard, at this ime, and my ance| “New England folks? He looks— agrees with me, Don't you think 1) like a foreigner of some kind?" am justified in having. my own way | other was a foreigner. Her about it, te lions of my| name was Strelitz—something like mother and sivt¢ | that. Every bride should have the sort) “strentz?* Hobart echoed, “That's of wedding she wants, and your! German," Choice shows good taste and good| “Hungarian, I think, But—she was sense, “Short Acquaintance. #a, F." writes: “I am a young lady twenty-three years old, and one day Ne flirted with a Ne opt walking Weivfe-‘nalior who since has told ite me and wants to marry-me. born in this country Eben had reached the dory and made fast the Peanut astern of tt, ,|and clambered into the craft, They could see him crouching and peering down at somethi in the bottom. “He's giving it the once-over, all Arowis ejacuiisierdy “i woulda t righty’ ‘suly known him @ mouth and| do that for « forvaney but don't be in a} By Another By Ben Ames Williams SYNOPSIS OF PRECEDING CHAPTER, PAB UA PR LCN AAR We cae A rere we: sa The Broken Span | Tuesday, October 1, 1918 PAGE Consriait. 1018, So, The, reer Lblaahing Co (Tie New Yor: Brening World,) nD {) Vp i e Man in the Dory Explained Mystery Munsey Company) At a quiet Maine settlement her mother, and ben Seoul ved 1D the bay. Hovart goes out The man has been shot with the vows. ed ‘The Barbette, During a card to retrieve it, Chrough tho Dead, Ha They watched miently while the lit- tle lame tan continued his scrutiny, He climbed from the dory into the Peanut again after a time, and worked around the larger craft, studying every inch of it. “He'll know it when he sees it again,” Hobart commented scornfully, “I don't see what makes a man want to look at a thing iike ha In the end an automobile roared down the lane from the main roau. Dr, Snow, the coroner, alighted and came down the beach toward them, The doctor was a tall, thin man, with a scrasgly be rd, “Where is it, Bil?" he asked Marks when they had greei- ed each other, “In the dory out there” Who's that in the washtub?” ow shtub? doctor That's the ened, Peanut.” “Some boat, yhat's he doing?” utting his curiosity,” Hobart told him, and the doctor looked around quickly at the resentment in the young man’s tone ~T at's what I want to do,” he said gently, “Tell him to come in and ferry me out.” “Peanut won't hold two,” Marks ob- jected. “He'd better row the dory in.” “AU right—anythir Marks climbed to the verarda and got the megaphone and called to Eben: “Row the dory ashore, Eben, will you? The coroner is here.” Scour waved his hand in token of assent, made fast the Peanut to the gory, loosed the dorv from the other boat, and rowed toward them, Kor all their disclaimers of curiosity, Lewis and Hobart were the first to Jay hands on the pointed bow of the craft, and Marks and the doctor helped them drag her high on the sands, Eben leaped ashore, They stood silent, looking down at the thing In tne aory, ‘The body lay in a curiously awk. ward heap amidships, The dead man's legs were doubled under him as though he had been kneeling when he was shot. One arm was crumpled under his body, the other curved above his head. His head lay on tts side in the bottom of the boat, There was a hole above his right eye; a small, insignificant hole that seemed soarce more than a bruise vi an abia~ ‘The ‘bullet HU Ue Mee Jk He aay Ubu a® 1y, dures cousin wy im Lhe boat, aif unuer diy vody, dud thee Was a MaKe Of Uke UFag ging Lruuk Ue gun wae, ‘The MAR Wore vIeELuLD UL yol- low Ouse. ad a cot of ne sane Waele W ug OUL OL tue Way Lure ward, Thy “sou Wester” hat lay tn the bottom of Lne buat near hus Leet, @UuvsL Lua utn the ailer thwart The others stood woiue @ Litue while the docor veut over ie body, aud they waichea gilenuy woe be made his eam@miduon, me veut low to sGrulinze toe wounu, lifted tne hand that curved above the man's head, stood back to survey the boat, and then turned to Bill Marks, “You didn’t serve in Cupa, did you?” he aaked, Marks shook his head. Know anything about wounds?" “Shot myself in the thumb with an alr ritle once! The docior laughed abstractedly, and turned to the dory again, boeo Scour stood a little pehina the ovhers, watching, Presently the physician straigutened up. “Can one of you tow the dory to town for me?” ho asked, “The Mars! bullet alls have a power boat. Tl get that,” Marks offered Man was kneeling when be was shot, wasn't he?” Hobart asked. The doctor shook his head, “sit ting on the after thwart,” he said. fell forward on his knees and time ‘d do a thing like that?" Herb Lewis demanded, The doctor grinned slowly, “That's what I aim to he said. Eben Scour tou you notice the ha find out,” d his "he arm, asked. “Did The Coroner k d at him, then at the beat, “Why 4“ en stepped to rd the dory, “I mean—look here,” he called, They all gathered betind him, looked where he pointed; and the Coroner bent low and uttered an ex- clamation of surprise, of satisfaction, The others saw a faint glint of metal half hidden under @ torn fold of the oiled fabric, The doctor lifted the hat gently, shook it, Something heavy dropped into his hand and lay there, “The bullet!" he exclaimed, It seemed an innoweat thing enough; @ little bit of metal, rounded, blunt at one end and pointed at the other. But it was not dull like lead; there was a silvery tint beneath the stains that covered it. “Never saw a bullet Nika that!" Herb Lewis ejaculated, “What is it, doc? ‘The doctor held the bullet out be- fore them in his palm, “What ts it, Marks?” he echoed. “You ought to know,” “Looks ke an army bullet. “Hobart?” the doctor challenged, ‘The young man shook his head. “I don't know,” he admitted, I don't see that it matters.” The Co: ¥ looked af him keen’: “and By Maurice Ketten | vreau, | The Evening World’s : Kiddie Klub Kornerd Conducted by Eleanor Schorer ; . Copyritht, 1918 by ‘The Prew Publishing Ce. (The New York Evening World), By JAMES DADAKIS, Aged Nine Years, New Yerk City, September Award Winner, Sax AY ® { Cousin Eleanor’s Klub Kolumn i by mail, Cousin Jennie will | My Dear Cousin Members? | tu) scowned in a tea of affectto HPRE Is great news for you to=!notes from her new and numerous!” day. Our Klub ts known in| american Klub fellow. bated another country of the g10D@) And while speaking of Irish kiddied™™* Our membership, which spread®| you must hear about Cousin Mase?! throughout the United States, west! caret Gilligan, who has just carrie@eo? |to the coast and across the Pacific} og bor third Kiddte Klub pennastens © Japan and Australia; north to and] phe pennants were not purchaseduyr Into Canada, south to Cuba and] \o, indeed; she won them through. South America and east to France| her work as an ective Kit) member,; jand England, mow takes in Ireland] No, she does not live in Belfast nor. 4s well, Yes, Ireland, the couniry}in Dubitn; her home is in Fiatbush, from which most of the forefathers|but every one who knows her +. of America's “Fighting 69th" came. | strongly suspects that there is a lot. Jennie R. Logan ts the name of the}of proud Irish blood in Cousin Mar-_ eleven-year-old daughter of Erin|garet You all remember her as ws whom we now proudly count among lof the toe dancers at our Patriotia... our Cousins, and she lives at No, 80) Purty and at our Kiddie Klub Thee Dee Street, Belfast, Ireland, ate in Lune too, + te 1 bope that Cousin Jennie wit Cousin Eleanor. 0 love the Klub as truly as all the other ie Cousins do, and that through her we THE Two CLOUDS. a will soon have a score or more of the little colleens and laddies of Belfast belonging to us and loving us in the sume measure that we love them. Through the Kiddie Klub Korner IT weloome her in the name of our Klub Kinship, Bach Cousin will doubtless wish to send her @ separate greeting \ \ \\ . WY > R \Y SN Y x and turned to the cripple, Scour—you know,” be said. Koen nodded, ake them," the doctor directed. “I's a Mauser ball,” said Eben Scour, arks shook his head. 1 right—what of that?? “Tre Mauser is the German arm.” Marks looked steadily at the beard - ed man, then took off his grass hel- met and scratched his head. The doc- tor smiled a little, without mirth, and Marks said softly: “Well, go to It, doctor.” “You— CHAPTER Il. N spite of the absence of Anne Marshall, and of Eben Scour, who had walked to town after aupper, a bonfire on the beach that night Wis 4 success, Bonfires at the Bar- bette always were. After supper John Benton, the attorney, and Bill Marks, old cronies and joint sovereigns of the Barbette colony, piled the charred stumps in a complicated design, filled in the intervals with smaller stuff, and waited for dark to fall. Benton calied: “You'll havea to supply *he libations to-night, Bill.” Marks snorted, “Why? 1 supplied the driftwood.” “Can't help it," Benton chuckle. “Our house can is empty, and I juct got the cat locked in the shed where the big can is. If I go in she'll get out, and we'll never catch her.” TA Marks ¢>aned, he “That's right,” complained, “That's six times "ve worked that gamo this sum- ."" He lumbered away, returned wally with a can of keroseno, and poured it gingerly over tho piled wood. John Benton climbed to his veranta re a great bell hung, and rang the bonfire call—three rings, then two, then three and so on, ad infinitum. Herb Lewis came along the beach from his cottage, and he and Bill Marks roared ‘'Iin-0-0-0-0-onf-f-f-f~ fi-t- re!’ until the night re- sounded and the cottagers began to ather, By the time the firs was fully aflame, most the cottagers bad gathered. They sat on the beach, their backs against the breakwater, women were knitting huge white army socks for the Red Cross. Some one began to sing: Hho the boat Merniy' dun the ream, ern), ‘merry, wordy, Li ‘dream."* ‘This song is more complicated than it sounds, because as one set of singers finishes the first two lines and begins the third, another set be- gina at the beginning, There were gvod voices at the Barbette, and they leaped at that song and tore it limb from limb; and then took up, ‘Fol low, follow, follow fallow follow, fole had whirled out “Ob, yes~it mutters,” bo corrected, low, follow mé-t-®-t-o," which is lame man, and after @ While De came ‘Two little clots one summer's day > | Came sailing thru the sky: + ed They bumped their heads togethen, =< And they both began to cry. ied | Then a million little raindrope | Fell down upon the town: on They washed tho flowers’ faces, ee ; The trees and roofs 40 brown. much the same sort of a song, and @ ' "The jolly sun was laughing loud then went on to “My Bonnie” and lore ghey] pained ery; < “Tho Tavern in the Town,” and ail le said he'd send bis sunbeams i res Une N he SHORT STORY} | Meir tootisn tears to ary. pene © bay was outspread before 1, i dark in the night. Up the shore a ‘Then thru the sky came trooping mp2 BY ‘The little fairies cay: at They danced about the clouds in : And laughed thetr tears away, DE MAUPASSANT ‘The little clouds then satted away, WILL APPEAR single light showed where « luinber- laden schooner had anchored, Across the bay a shore light gleamed faintly through the night. Beyond the schooner the bug-light on the monu- And ne'er more did they ery, ment winked methodically, a second For where they'd been a rainbow" of ght and a wecond of darkness bright — following endlessly upon each other's Stood shining tn the sky. : heels; and across the warm, {SATURDAY $| het oe ce,” be now and then, the melancholy ringing THY N. HILDEBRAND, New Yous, ** ot the great bell on the bellbuoy near 3 a peers the light. — » “The light’s out of order again!" PRAY FOR PEACE. : around the circle again and sat down beside Eben, Missed you,” a time. Hobart remarked. Every one looked toward the monu- ment, 4nd some one echoed: “It is out of order, The light Pray for your mother And pray for yeuce. be a5. Don't let the foe our soldiers defemtg*” Let the Allies be victorious ws And our Nation over be gjorious he said casually ft winking regu. was not larly, Instead of the second of tigit “Thanks,” suid Scour, From North, West, South and Basf, “~ and the ond of darkness, the in- “Been uptown? By MABEL SMITH, Brooklyn. = 8 Eves ¢6, SArKOee ws re longer—tWO Scour nodded, “Had a letter that T — Bt , or three, or four, : . The Hight continued thin erratic be- Wanted to go. : OUR FLAG. havior for @ considerable time, while _ [tol kod at the lame man] Here's to the flag with its stripes am&®” they watched and speculated, It was Sitew! That must have been au iw stars, an automatic affair, that light. An a1 tant letter, Triumphantly borne through all acetylene tank supplied the for t was. wars? ~~ Ris aanina th end ehinont reneniihe kiuinst the rules of the Barbette| Here's to the heroes who fought fia: ing: but there was no keeper on the tO have any important business tm defense . monument, and the light sometimes te summer time,"* Of nations of mations thie fag went wrong, requiring th » Scour laughed shortly. “I'l res sents, of one of the tenders that cruised tha Membermnext tm be promised, Here's to the warriors who went te coast ‘The fire had burned dowa, tae cot. the grave, ” After a time, however, nt taxers began to gather up their kntte|Detenéime the ‘fag on the field end. Beene to right I If, He wi and their pipes and depart the wave; ™ was saying: “It acted Just that were left only H Lewis,|"Neath tts bright folds raise youro., when it went ont this spring,” and Ma tenton, Eben and Nelson Ho- vlowes with me John Benton echoed: “And it stayed bart. The fire had become « more| And drtnk to our country, the land af. dark that time for threo weeks, till bed of embers, the free. mi a the tender came jn.” A pencil of light fastened upon them] By LOSE ENOLISH, aged aime Even as ho said this the licht re- from far down the bay, They carned| years, New York City. a sumed its regular winking, “It's ail to face it, and ree daaz! right now,” Bill Ma told them, Searchlight! 0 Hobart rose quick i u ight flashed off. Oniy dari. | THEIR pailphbeh Napa wi had been sittin on & low at one end % remained; but after five minut rf every man Waa Ww we tO Of the ourcle, and he walked around ¢ chiight swept them again, | His duty for the Ited, White and DRUG.» elow the fire, looking along the row #¢arching the sho! ‘here would be no slackerw to-day, @@... fuces, and ene where John _ tly, in the star glint on tbe we call; te ton sat on a great, round log Water, they saw the silhouettes of a| Every man would answer big couie,.. John, did you notice anything Gestroyer and four submarine-ehaa- try’s call, wee" cer about the way the light ° ut slid silently past the Bur- See Renton saw that the young man'a oe! tx KWept the waters before | Hur sume sokliers a comfurs iit, wt eyes were shining, and he was flushed them. ‘Phey ran into the harbor and are saan We ting koltting Fae ane = ol tremndled, “No,” he i vared and "wNothing in parccular Whe When the Rarbette woke next | Our doya woud be fisting for Wis ‘obart hesitate DS lonkad Gn morning, one of the chasers was an-| er There. Ay eaters DORMS. He leaked Bho clone the Hobart cott.ae, oe] oe eeaaen FISHER, a w b u * 4 boat came dancing ashore and so] . ut e's Eben Sco! 6 asker Where's saan Roourr” he aaked. sign Whose chin was stil downy | asked CHAPTER IV, ¢ 4 thousand que y that had been ons a to the Fea? Bef M@w TO JOIN THE LUD AND - day before, He took Hobart’s mtate- 1 GBTALN YOUR PIN. HE bonfire burned Inte that ment in detail, wrote it out, had Ho-| night. No ono seemed of a bart sign it mind to leave " wind _ At the same ttme, the peopte of the} Karbette could e the other ohawers died, and the night was warm, cruising along the opposite shewe. and the fre burned crisply, In the Marks asked the young ofcer: end Eben Scour came dovn the “What do you people think of it?” “uate Pin” tan stepping stones past the Benton rman submarina,” anid te) en mgn crisply. “One had been reported | off Newfoundland. Tee man ip Un dory probably came on them ip tl fog—and they shot him so that he ould tell no tales.” ee Be Conusueay cottage and found a seat on a log near where John Benton sat, Ho- art's eyes lighted at sight of the ea SEs eee COUPeN NO. 4