The evening world. Newspaper, June 19, 1919, Page 25

Fuen HAT a hopeless, God-forsaken for the children, the little children who are as yet unspoiled by the virus of the years! ‘Well does Emerson declare that the little ones come to us Ifke so many Messiahs to keep us from drifting away end despair. Not long ago a young wife and mother lay upon her deathbed. Tt was efi very sudden, and when the family physician was called in they were told ‘that there was no hope, ‘Then the question arose, “Who shall tell her the sorrowful tidings?” Not the doctor—it would be cruel dear one on such an errand. Not the aged mother—who was soon to be left childless and alone. Not the young husband, who was and rebellious heart. But there was only one other—and just then the little daughter of the ying woman looked up from the picture-book with which she had been en- gaged and very solemnly asked, “Is my mamma going to die?” Then, without waiting for an answer from anybody, the dear Tittle one @ped from the room and upstairs as fast as her feet could carry her. Friends and neighbors were watching by the bedside, and they wonderingly noticed the child climb up on the bed and lay her curly head upon her mother’s pillew. “Mamma,” sho asked in tones as soft and sweet as the gentlest tunic, “ate you afraid to die?” ‘The mother looked at her as though she had anticipated the question, and asked, “Who told you, my darling?” “Doctor, and papa, and gran’ma—they all told me. But, mamma, dear mamma, you won't be afraid to die, will you?” “No, my dear,” replied the mother; “Just shat your eyes in the dark, ‘and when you open ‘em, mamma, {fll be ALL LIGHT THERE.” ‘When the family gathered, awe-stricken and broken-hearted at the bed- side, the baby held up her little hand. She won't wake up here any more.” “Thou didst hide these things from the wise and prudent and didst reveal them unto babes.” You know the rest of that, too. y It is “ALL light" in your world. Blessed little chiléren! Glimpses Into New York Shops thing for summer travelfing. Beautiful models with vests tn contrasting colors are being shown and @ very smart one 1s $50. Trane tor commer rang ‘Tiny flowers made of ribbon adorn many of the dresses for young girts. ‘They give a delightful color effect to ‘the costume and are a pretty trim- ming. Every invoice brimgs something new in necklaces. The lange link chains are one of the latest arrivals. ‘They come in various colorings and have etriking pendants. ‘The old Diues are exquisite as are also the ‘amber tones. ‘These can be had at ehell are $3 and then there are right | pretty ones in the rose shades at $2. ; ‘The dresses in navy blue Georgette ! crepe that are now so popular are| a good investment if one ot good quality is selected, as they wear most excellently. Exquisite models em- }roidered in red and blue mk floss tastefully combined with steel beads are greatly admired by shoppers. fBome of the newest Georgette blouses are being adorned with floral ~ designs in bright colored wools, This is an effective trimming and these blouses promise to have a large vogue this fall. For dressy occasions a small hand- ks ing an extensive line of these tn ei in the prevailing ress shades. They ere handsome and can be had at $3. ‘The departments for bathing acces- sorkes ara showing most wonderful bathing onps and hats. In the latter there is an attractive model that will give protection against the sun, It is made of rubber in two harmonizing and is decidedty pretty. The $i. Some satin with K a to a Fixst American Play first play by an American I author ever produced in an American theatre was “The Prince of Partia,” by Thomas God- frey jr. of Philadelphia, which was given before an enthusiastic audience @t the Southwark Theatre in Phila- delphia 162 years ago. The South- werk Theatre—which had a curtain Painted by Major John Andre, the ‘British officer who was executed be- cause of his participation in the plot ef Benedict Arnold—continued to be @ popular playhouse until it was ®urned down in 183. It was the leading playhouse of the Quaker City until 1794, when the Chestnut Street ‘Theatre gained supremacy, Another early play written and produced in America, although not by Americans, was “The Blockade of Boston,” the work of Burgoyne, the British com- mander, William Dunlap wag the, @rst American to make dramatic) literature his profession, Other} early playwrights of note include John Howard Payne, the author of “Home, Sweet, Home,” who had six- teen plays to his credit; John D. Burke, author of “Bunker Hill,"| “Joan of Arc,” and other dramas, ‘who was killed in a duel in 1808, and| Samuel Woodworth, author of “The| ~ Qld Oaken Bucket,” who scored sev- All Light There By Rev. Thomas P. Gregory. . ntl Caperight, 1918, by The Prem Publishing Os. (The New Tork Evening World). Int, upon the starless ocean of pessimism to let the man of science go to their walking the floor with knitted brow “no, mamma won't be afratd.” mamma, and keep hold of my hand, “Hush! My mamriia’s gone te sleep. close-fitting models in rubber never ‘were so varied and attractive as they are this season, and a very pretty one can be had for 50 cents. Black velvet combines most effec-4 tively with the pretty new ginghams. and many of the summer frocks show the belts and girdles in the velvet. One in green gingham has a girdle of two rows of velvet finished off at the ‘back with a few small loops and long, flowing streamers. {f you are looking for scrap baskets for the summer cottare you will find in on@ shop very pretty ones tn en- amel finish in the bondoir tones of blue, rose and-white, » They have floral decorations and sel for $1.76. Attractive telephone screens of card- ‘board in the form of prettily gowned femininity are being offered at 25 cents and would be just the thing for the Gangalow, A Story of the “Penrod” of Girls’ Books, a Delightful Little Heroine, and How She Finds Her Sweetheart Ceharla HOME Thursday, June 19, ‘PAGE THiS (5 To DRAW OUT THE BLACKHEADS IN THE NOSE Be Beautifull THE HolLows mw THE CHeeks By M “THis WILL FILL OUT Daily. aurice Ketten “THIS WILL Give You A SWAN: LIKE NEC (Copyright, 1919, by Doubleday, Page & Co.) SYNOPSIS OF PRECEDING CHAPTERS. ‘Max, the mother of Tmbelle Bryce, becomes of ever doing saything with ner, ana when Jeabedle “reaches ber, fourth the Tae shuld eer te bet busbena Wail its trea to yi ‘about from his but discovers that it ls mot considered fashionable te ca Wally” decides to uot, Young orerness and employs, Miss felt laabaie Shout ‘hers cea fassiy’ and toaballe teas owed cus’ day's Uy" ant’ find) some” requlee i " some vi When "Max finds Out the rosaon she discharges Miss Matus, ‘isd satelle foew bar ‘omy URING the next few years of Isabelle’'s life she was more of @ trial to her household than ever defore, if such a thing was possible. She overplayed the tomboy, just as she did every role she essayed, She scorned girls, she endured onty the society of males from this time on, She could scarcely be forced into any costume but her riding Clothes, She applied herself to sports until ghe played better than. most boys. By disguising this ‘act, and pretending to be a mere novice, she was admitted to their games. Herbert accepted her as Man Fri- day with considerable reluctance, but she made him feel that her very gratitude gave her a sort of hold on him. She was very useful, if you knew how to handle her; and sheer loss, if you did not. She abborred au- thority. If you told her she must do a thing, she stubbornly refuted, If you asked it as a favor, it was done instanuy. If you dared her to do a thing, nothing could stop her. She was appailingly indifferent to danger. She terrified the more timid souls in Herbert's crowd. But aside from the fact that she was good at their games, her main contribution was the original things she thought up for them to do, She had, at fourteen, a fair ac- quaintance with American history, and she devised rare amusements, based on the primitive life of our pioneer forefathers, ‘These games lasted for weeks. Bands of In'@15 preyed on the settlers; the setters sent messengers to the tribal chiefs, The were periods of parieying, smoking of the peace pipe; there were war dances and uprisings. It took much strategy on Isabelle's part to effect her freedom, She as- sured Miss V...tts that all the chil- dren went daily to play at the Hunt- because there was @ pool, and ‘You have the most fun there;” so when, of an afternoon, Miss Watts ac- Prouiinent author of the period was. ‘George P. Morris, author of “Wood- eral dramatic successes, ia was companied her to the Hunters’, and stayed chatting with the Hunjer pcg = bed it wae. same to go ae: Mil she was out of aight, Them she left the girls sped’ off to her true companions. Margie threatened to tell on her, but Herbert took the matter in hand, and nothing came of the threat. Of course Max and Wally had no idea of her associations; that was Miss Watts’s business. Isabelle played with the children of the right set, which was all that really mat- tered, That she swaggered and boasted and whistled about the house, these were annoying details, but she had always been a pest. Wally protested once against her boydenish manners, “You talk like a jookey, Isabelle. You haven't @ grain of feminine charm.” “Feminine charm! Ha!” his daughter, with scorn. “You'd better try to acattire @ little, You'll need it," be warned her, eed it for what?” feed tt for your business.” “What is my business?” “Getting married?” She stared at him with an angry flush mounting her face. She turned and mounted the stairs, leaning over to shout n* sh» went, with unmistak- able emphasis; “When you've bats in your belfry that fut, When your comprenes-vous line is out, When there's nobody home * In the top of your dome, Then, your head's not a ‘head; it's « nut! Wally swore gently and gave it up. Isabelle's life seemed to run in a series of crises, It was always mounting toward or descending from aclimax. The present summer of her fourteenth year was no exception, The historic American scenes were etill highly popular, but Isabelle’s cre~ ative spirit was not yet sauafed She was preparing the apisode of John Smith and Pocahontas, to be played by Herbert Hunter and herself as principals, when it ocourred to her that the scene ought to be played by night in the woods. She proposed it to Herbert, but he scoffed at it. They never coum manage, How could they wet away at night? But isabetle had it # planned, er idea was to pick out the spot in the woods, put up the tepees, col- lect the firewood, lay in supplies and get everything ready in advance, snorted THiS 1S To PRevent AGGING Mu € AROUND THe Mourn: THis Wit PREVENT A Double CHIN THIS Whe Give ‘You 4 RUBBER NECK would be clear so far as they were concerned, “Ut isn’t parents, it's servants that will get in our wi objected Her- bert “If you think how to get by them, Herbert, you can,” urged the tempt- ress. “How? Just tell me how I can get past old Mademoiséile when she sits in the hall outside my door?” “Tell her you forgot something downstirs, and then run out,” “Fat chance! She'd give the alarm ‘and they'd al come on the jum| “Well, if I can get out, I should think you could,” she taunted him. “How'd we get back in? Suppose Parents got back before we did.” Her inspiration flared like a torch. “We'd sleep in the tents all night.” “Gee!” said Herbert. This was sheer » It captured his imag- ination. He decided to submit it to the others. A council was called. They in turn were struck dumb by the idea that they should spend a night in the woods, untrammelled by authority. It took. an enormous amount of planning and preparation. The prob- lem of the best means of escape for each member was taken up and de- cided upon. The hour for meeting, and the placa, were named. Gov- ernesses as a ruie had their dinners eanly, with the children, Later, each boy was to complain of weariness or headache and go directly to bed. At 9 o'clook they would make a getaway and meet at @ certain apot, centrally located for them all. All of them had ponies, so they could ride to the trysting place. Blankets must be brought by each camper, and it was agreed that they would sleep in their clothes, The day came, As the idea was to be kept secret from all girls, Isabelle had some trouble managing not even to see Margie Hunter, with whom @he was ostensibly to spend the day. She induced Wally to drop her at the Hunters’ the way to the club, The boys were hard at work. They greeted her casually, as was their habit, It was the way they kept up the bluff to themselves that they had No use for girls. Isabelle was salistiod with their manne: She knew in ber own mind that she was the brains of the whole concern, so why cavil at their bluff, male ways? They worked like beavers all day long. ‘They went without any lunch- con, They lugged out the tents and set them up. They made beds of boughs, They laid jires ready for the torch. They cached the grub in a hollow tree out of the way of prowling creatures, They carried out pails of drinking water, and borrowed the kitehen utensils from Margie's play- house, It was late afternoon when they limped wearily back to the Hunters’ in search of food. “Mother was awfly mad at you, Isabelle, because you kept luncheon waiting,” said Margie, enippily, “aber have you been There was; and they put away quantities of bread and butter, with jam, and lemonade, which infuriated the cook, who had to eupply the de- mand. They parted, later, with fer- vent farewells, sotto-voce remarks, and mysteriou, signs. At home, Isabelle got ready for her supper without being told, and sat quietly with a book until she was called. They A close observer might have notod that she never turned a leaf, that when a motor chugged off bearing her parents she was ecen to smile aad aigh, After supper she complained of uttor weariness and went to bed. Mixs Watts looked in at 8.30; Isabelle was breathing evenly, A few moments Tater she heard the governess close Lie door between their two rooms, Im- mediately she got up, dropped ber nightgown, worn over her riding clothes, and slipped out, A momen’ later ghe was in the geting a saddle on her horse, tying aer blanket to the horn. She managed her exit without interference, because Saturday night there were “doln's” among the servants. ‘Once on the road she let the pony run, She had never been out alone at It was scary, she af- elf. Once an automobile, on the way to the club with some body’s parents, caused her to dash uff the road into the underbrush, Pinally she reached the meeting place and found two scared boys ahead of her. Shortly, the others arrived Thero were Ro signs of hilarity over this adventure, they were ali solemn and sium, Some of them were in India: gard, with tomahawks; others in buy scout hats as pilgrims When they were all gathered they moved in @ body to the camp. It was darker than pitch In the woods, so they had to lead the ponies, and they stumbled over tree trunks and logs. Unseen things scuttled away under foot and terror began to apread like les, Get the fire lighted, then we can see all right,” sald Isabelle the daunt- less. They managed that finally and peered about them ag the weird shad- ows danced and made fantastic shapes. “Let's get the grub and eat,” eaid Herbert, “Not yet, not till we do the play,” @bjected Isabelle, “Bomebody bind up John Smith and rest ait around the place where we're going (o execu- tion him. ‘The Indians can hurk"—— “Say, I ain't goin’ to lurk In the dark, out there,” protested a brave, peering into the blackness, “L am!" gaid Isabelle, marching upon unseen terrors among the trees, “If you're going to let a girl dare u!” cried Herbert, secretly glad that 18 role required no heroic exposure. ‘The Indians reluctantly followed Igabelle Pocahontas into the shadows, stepping high, and jumping back with exclamations now and then, Saturday night would be the best one we were playing, and we The chopping blook was brought for the encampment, because their thi we’ without lunch. out “ze fone ake head was to parents always dined and‘danced at I hope ‘here's tea, though,” rest, then iontas crept throug the club that night a9 she gomat added, sai i ik -——— r Male Whe Brelighs and the olay waa laud arotesta on, the mast + tquches something and clings there, ~ Magazin The Evening World’s Kiddie Klub Korne Conducted by Eleanor Schorer Copyright, 1819, ty The Pree Pubtiching Co, (The New York Bvening World). How the Spider Makes a Web HE atlk that comes from the spider's body is fastened to a twig or & leaf, Sometimes the spider makes the fastening itself, sometimes it lets the silk float from its body and the wind blows it about until When both ends have been securely fastened, the spider is able to rin down the thread and fix several more threads, all fastened to different points, but meeting in the middle, These are the cross ropes of thé web, Sten j other lines have to be wevem round aaa round these, making perhaps twenty tings, The epider works hard and fast, the whole task is finished tn lear than an hour. the rain cannot break it. \ \\ EZ \ U KC WW BS The web is so strong that the wind cannot blow it away ahd In the Wildwood By Uncle Bill The Frightened Fawn HTS was not the open season for Geer, 50 no hunters and hounds ‘were out in the Green Forest after them, But how could a nice little spotted fawn know that, when it's mamma had left it alone to sleep under @ whistlewood tree, and then it heard dogs barking just awful? Little fawn took to its heels and ran, and ran, In the big city Billy Boy had often gone to the parks and of all the ani- mals there, even the cute Malay monkeys not excepted, he had loved the deer and the baby fawns best. He had pulled bits of grass and leaves and fed them through the wire fences, so when Billy saw a little spotted fawn come staggering toward him, all out of breath, he ran forward and met it. Little fawn stumbled and wént down on its knees too tired to even try to get up. little fawn panted, At the 200 deer did not know how to talk you see, they could all talk bey cause this was an enchanted wood, “No doggies come here, none ever,” Billy assured him, so the tawn lay quite content, panting painfully, loud they did bark, and I ran.” “Well,” nodded Billy emphaticafty, “you stay with me, and no doggie will scare you.” Soon the fawn got bis breath, went to tho tiny pool for drink—for nis throat was awfully dry—and then the two began to play together, Billy was very happy. “Will you stay with me all the time?” he asked. Biny did not want to tose his play= fellow. Billy hugged the fawn, coved to it, “1 dike to stay here,” ‘little and kissed it, but there was no real spirit in the affair, Isabelle felt this; so, to creat» a new Interest, she urged John Smith to break bread with the Indians after he had been saved by her, and released. They hauled out the food, slightly the worse for squir- rels; they cooked the bacon, eating it nearly raw, with hunks of bread. had a thermos bottle of col: tea which they raferred to ts There were plenty of doughnuts and ary at Ee roused ‘thls i @ repast ir apirits con- siderably, After it was finished, John Smith invited the indians to spend the night, and everybody agreed to turn in. There was an obvious reluctance on the part of some to enter the dark tents, Things unsoen rattled inside. “Say, why not roll up in our blank- ets around the fire?” said doughty John Smith, the Pilgrim’s pride, “Good boy—that's the boy,” agreed the Indiana. So they curled ap tn a circle inside their covers, as near the blaze as they could lie, wide-eyed and on the watch, Each one secretly longed for his bed at home, ai belle with her devil's gift of inven- tion, But after a while the hard ! jabor of the day began to tell, and as the fire grew fainter, one by one they dropped asleep, and the shadows closed in upon them completely, CHAPTER VIL T the club the Saturday nignt hilarity was at its height, The Country-Clup set took them- selves very seriously—at leavt as seriously as they took anything. They conceived themselves as a group, somehow set apart. They lived idle, luxurious lives, Like the lily they toiled not, which of itself was an vious mark of distinction in @ work-a-day world, Wally was dancing with Nancy Horton, when Billy, ber husband, stopped them. “Look here, Nance, the butler just telephoned that Teddy isn't in his bed, and they can't find him.” “Rubbish! He's somewhere about. Come on, Wally.” “No. Hold on a minute, phoned the Hunters to see if he was there, and they discovered that Her- bert is missing.” “The little beasta! suppose they are? know itt” “The servants were going to tele- phone them.” “What do you want me to do?"— shoruy. “I think we ought to go home—" “I will not, You go, if you like, and give him a good thrashing whea you find him, Come on, Wally.’ She whirled away with Wally, who said: Where do you Do the Hunters “Thank the Lord, my kid is a girl!" But, one by one, parents were called by ‘phone, unt! a sufficient number of fathers had left to make the af- fair one-sided. So it broke up, with of ihe wor xcoriated Isa- ¥ They * men against the tyranny of ohildren, and the slavery of parent ’ Max grumbled all the way home, and Wally slept. But once indoors, he surreptitiously crept to Isabell door and tiptoed in. Her nig! was in & heap by her bed, the bed crumpled and empty. He hurried to Miss Watts's door and roused her. “Misa Watts, where t Isabelle?” he demanded, “In bed, Mr. Boyee.” “No, she isn't. I've looked.” “But she went to bed at half bw ight. I saw her asleep myself. Just a minute, please.” He heard her pattering about. went downstairs and summoned Mat- thews. He knew nothing. He had been on duty all evening, but he had not seen her, Wally ordered htm to “Can—you—scare—the dogs away?” |) makes question all the servants, Miss Watts, greatly excited, appeared in a bathrobe. A telephone call to the Hunters’ house brought the reply that Mr, Hunter and the servants were out looking, now. Wal his wife's room, Shi “Taabelle’s gon! “Gone where?" was in bed. P. “I don’t know, ppose.”* “Get to bed. She'll turn up.” “Don't be a foot! TN take a and join the searching party. No- body knows what those kids are up “All right; go abead, But this time, Waly Bryce, I punish her.” He hurried out, and got into a fast enr, with Matthews and Henry, th chauffeur, in the Ddack seat. He went like the wind to the Hunters’, No news yet, but they informed him that twelve boys were missing, “My Isabelle is with them,” said Wally, The Hun “My wo exclaimed. On the road Wally met BiNy Hor- ton in his ear, “They must be around here some- where. They couldn't get far. If I don't fix that young man of mine!” he threatened “My kid is with them,” Wally groaned. “You don't say ton, re’ butler look startled. 4, sir, she is a limb!” he ejaculated Hor- Just then a streak of light, as from fire, and died out, 4d you see that?’ demanded ‘ax, looked Ike—" “eg pardon, sir, fire in the woods, that was the woods on fire,” shouted W and started off full speed, Horton followed, “Keep your eye on the place, you fellows, ‘About here, wasn't it?” He stopped the car, and they jumped out. Henry carried a bung- hole light and they penetrated the woods, single file, shouting as they went, No answer came, but they kept on, Before they had gone very something.” ‘ said. “I am lonesome when my me sicep alone in the bushes.’ “O goody! then you can live with me, and I will give you bread whep Ma Bruin brings some home.” “ Little fawn stopped playing and stared hard at Billy. “Ma Bruin? Does that mean oid bear?” fl Billy nodded. “1 think so.” “Then,” fawn whispered, qui 2 “whe'll eat me. My ma sald so, dear, what shall I do?” Just then fawn heard a rustle of leaves, looked up, and saw mamma Deer who was out hunting for her baby. Little fawn licked Billy’s face by way of kisging him goodby, and bounded away through the forest ewith its mother, ‘When ma Bruin came she sniffed Billy. “Why,” she said, “you smell Ike @ deer, Honestly, now, you smell #0 good I want to eat you.” MAY CONTEST AWARD WINNER. “What I Would Do If | Were Rich.” Oh, if I were rich! The good I'd do! ly went up to| to the Kiddle Klub to help in their sacred work of caring for French witting| °°DUANS, and T would buy ‘The Bye ning World for poor children so that ‘With the others, | they might join our wonderful Kiub,” I would apend money trying to car | UF brave heroes positions, and I would help the mothers and of those boys who had made the ag- Preme sacrifice. I would spend oyuch money In getting homes, food and shelter for al animals, I etiall work hard so as to attain these enda, By GHRALD DAWKINS, aged thirteen years, Brooklyn, N. Y, THE JUNE RIDDLE AND ANSWER CONTEST. Ten prises of four Thrift Stamps (the equivalent of $1) will be awarded each of the TEN Kiddie Kiub mem- dors, aged eix to fifteen inclusive, ‘who submit the best riddies and an- sewers, The riddies and their anawers must oe sent at the same time and im the same envelopes, Contestants must state NAME, AGE, ADDRDSS and CERTIFICATE flared up in the woods, to the) NUMBER. Addreas Cousin Eleanor, ‘Evening World Kiddie Kiub, No, 63 Park Row, New York City: HOW TO JOIN THE KL OBTAIN YOUR *