The evening world. Newspaper, March 4, 1921, Page 33

Mougli, THE JUNGLE BOY. Found in tHe Indian Jungle, Mowgli Walked and Snarled Life a Wolf, but He Was a Boy. Read This Astounding Story on This Page Soon. “A. M.”’ Williamson, Noted Writer, Declares to The Evening World: “My Dead Husband, ‘C. N.”, Lives and Still Helps Write Our Books” “He Is More Gloriou:ly alive Than He Ever Was Before,” She Says,. and Cites Several Strange Experiences: Mergucrite Mooers Marshall: fhe Pree Putiieting Oo, of Evening Workl,) is a, woman in New York husband died five ago, after one of the whose months huppiest of marriages last ng aimost twenty years, and yet she believes that he is “more gloriously alive than be ever was before.” She believes it 80 intensely that her books and maga- Zine articles about to be published will be signed with his name as well ns her own, after the fashion of their long literary partnership. She belleves that every day sh® and this dead man talk together, that at least or his deagh s he 6 aince © has seen him exactiy as was in life, that has brought her flows ut he has caressed her in the fashon pecullarly his own,that within an hour of his passing he sent her a sixn to show that he was alive and near end long! » help her in her sri Alice Williamson, the “A. M." of the famous f f automobile ro- mance weavers, C. N. and A. M. Will- famson, is the woman who told me this story of a love and faith Stronger than death—a story which must appeal to every one who has ever loved and lost. or even feared to lose: who is a true believer or, on the other hand, ti al about ritualism, yet to be convinced as to the val of the individual I found Mrs. Williamson at the fotel Belm a appealing figure ih her mourning and her gourageous faith. She looks like on idea of Ben Bolt’s “Sweet Alice," “whose hair Was 4o brown" and who probably had big, blue eyes, ly flushed oheeks ond a ch mid yet impulsive mile, She is of American birth and comes to New York since ailed away 4 ‘ home has been in I Will und overseas t ther hetr motor jou 2 wrote Lightning Conductor,” “Thc Maid many other tales of n & ma- chine » vir American pub- Neo ls famit The actual writing always has been done by Mrs, Williamson, For two years and a half 14 has been done at night, since in the daytime she was nursing her husba who in the ¥rench war zone contracted the ter- rible case of septic poisoning which resulted in his dvath last autumn. Shoe feels that he was truly a war casualty, although his age and near- sightedness kept him out of the trenches. I had heard that when “Vision “." Mrs, Williamson's new book, hed and when the first of a of articles, “Behind the Monte Carlo,” appears in ular magazine, book and arti 000 year WOMEN MONG the American women Who earn at Jeast $25,000 annually is Miss Bertha | ugh of Now York. She ls regu: as one of the three most brilliant women lawyers im the coyntry. MRS AND MR c.Nn. WILLIAM SON FROM COSMOPOLITAN MAGAZINE. cles wil! not ‘be signed “Allee Will- Jamson" but will bear the familiae line, “By C. N. and A. M. William son." And this will be done—here is the amazing part of it—not as widow's tribute to « dead lusl but as a wife's testimony of part with a living husband. e explanation Mrs. Williamson you as she gave it to me rious voice, the light ur in her blue eyes. give know," 3 exan siiply, "th my husband ix more gloriously ait than he ever ore “We were married, you see, almost twenty years. He was a member of the Si ety for Psychical Research, but he never was convinced by any- thing he saw or heard at their meet- ings. I have been enormously inter- ested in the great adventure of death in fact, for years I've just been dying to die,” she interpolated with a naive smile. “But I never went to mediums or even tried automatic writing. I should be afraid to do anything like that—afraid of trickery or that some force might answer me Just to amuse itself. ertheless, my husband and I an agreement that whichever first, that one would try to come back to the other—try to give a sign. It's so natural, isn’t it? It you love a person and you have to £0 on a business trip to the other side of the world you don't just drop Into space without sending letters or cablegrams or anything, Why shouldn't you try to communicate with the one left behind when you take the longest journey of all? “My husband does come to me. He has given me signs. He and I talk together every day. He helps me write our books; If he didn't I could never put pen to paper again. All the joy of it would have gone out of me.” “How soon after his death did you receive a sign which convinoed you he was still living and near you?” | asked, “And what sort of sign was it?” “Within an hour of the time the nurse and IT made him beautiful t first sign came to me,” she answered earnestly. “I went Into my own room. something told me to go te a drawer 1 had not opened in months, to look through it til 1 found a packet, to open the packet. {n It was a letter written to me by my husband years before, when I was 4 little unhappy urging me to cheer wp and telling me how much he eared. I didn't even know I had kept the letter, 1 had not the slightest idea where to look for It nti! he told me. When I was nursing him and straightening out his bed he had @ of moving his hand down 7 arm from the elbow to the wr The very day after I found the let ter T was alone and I felt t tle rubbing caress just had ever felt it. Then, flowers were arranged about him, be fore our friends came, I stood beside him and thought, ‘If you could only see the flowers, dear! If you know how beautiful they are! at once a wreath from a very friend of ours—it waved! The we fectiy still, there was mov | of air, but the wreath noved, ‘Once when I was in bed he came and stood beside me—oh, perhaps I im ae it, but [ never saw him more clearly. Another time T saw hands and they were sprink with the most beautiful {lum flowers, Every day we talk gether.” “Do you um any medium?" J ” aa ae and and and think and long for him mes to me, He never fails, we talk together—not aloud, you know, but our thoughts talk to each I know he comes to me 2 beautiful place, where he has hing fur which h und where 8 1 think the work mn what I heli nothing at all, umn ¢ ys. ‘That is why Fw Ays signed with mine For instance, | had to write a book ut nd I know nothing, mechantes of ne ily it. I suid to myself that I would write it and then submit it for cor rections tu an aviator. Pdid just that und yet he told me that all the fy- ing t T used, which sgemed just te ome into my head as T4wrote, were absolutely correct, that not a change was nec ry. Who helped me, | my huxband did not? He Was trained to be an engineer, and he was deeply interested in the mechanics of aviation and knew so much more about it than I “It is so wonderful!" I wish I cou! Id describe a equately the shining look on Alice Williamson's little, deli- cate face as she who had | th ma alw spoke, Yet I am sure every woman who greatly loves a man can have the me experience," she added Cy why J cannot understand how she @an marry aguin—if she really loved her first husband. 1 have @ friend who adored her husband, but he was killed'in the war a -so lonely that she marr! ed her a lang time 8 terrible—she simp! t she married to the a. will say, ‘Yes, my husband ays oh, something or other nd then she will pull herself up and look stricken and murmur, ‘I mean my FIRST husband.’ “If one couldn't believe in the presence of the man one loves, it would be so hard to live, wouldn't it when he seems to die?" appealed Ali Williameon, her ote eves filling, ber smile twisted wits pan. “Hut it a wom © can return to ner she other help. He W1LL retur she calls he will answer. Isn't rve?™ > 2 This Baby Has More Than His Share of Living Grandparents ITTLE AUSTIN WINS Low BATCHELDER, he son of Mr, and Mrs R r Batchelder of Larch mont Gardens, who was burn hes more than his share He has four three great «i one great-great grandmother, to say nothing of groit ‘and great-great aunts and uncics Mra J Ww R. Bat der a t-grandmother, livea in ter, Mass. and Mr. and William Parr, great rents, live In. Daw- lish Devonshire, England. Mrs, Amy Bart, of Liverpool, gland, the great-great grandmother, is eighty-six yeare old and is one of the most expert bridge players in that city. “A human one, or a oulja 1 writing?” : plied. "I have a adertul 5 eof him. 1 just look OF A MODERN MAID GUERITE MOOERS MARS/ALL Coprrigh:, 281, Wy he Prom. Pubtighing On. LOVERS’ quarrel should be A like a French duel—to set- tle a point of honor and without serious casualties on either side. New York’s attitude toward Pro- hibition seems to be: “What's the Constitutional Amendment setween friends?” A woman can buy her complez- ion, her hair, her figure, even the lustre of her eyes; she can change in no way the betraying shape of her mouth, yet it’s the last feature at which » man looks. : Sometimes a cat says “Miau! Miau!” and sometimes she says ahe heard all about you when she Was in college—“years after you gtadu- ated} dear!” | It is easier for a camel to go through a needle’s eye than for a flapper to pass unscathed where two or three are gathered together in the name of Mrs. Grundy. A man loses half the fun of going to a stag @inner when his wife re- fuses to make the least fuss about it. Why men marry: In order to have some one who will remember to put away the key to the hooch closet, to order the coal, to take the the- atre tickets—or one who can be blamed when she forgets. Why women marry: In orfer to obtain an audience, that cannot es- cape, for whatever polite comedy, melodrama or monologue they may choose to stage. Every child is naturally a daugh- ter of the horse leech, and most American parents do nothing to in- terfere with nature. Allmony may be the fine Imposed by the matrimonial tax collector for false returns. RANDOM FACTS TIPPED with heaters and other con- venlences, a shower bath motor truck has been designed for circuses and other travel- ling organizations. The Polish planning to tion municate States. water Government is erect a radio sta- at Warsaw that will com- with the United o Who Are They, and What Do They Sell? You'll Find Many When you Read the Story on This Page Soon. The 6 Best Sellers—xnerr« Tell You But ROTHER IS NOT SO REFINED 4s MY MOTHER. HE! HE! YOuR MOTHER TOLD Can You Beat It! By Maurice Ketten ON'T LET ME TELL YOu MY STORY IT WAS THE SANE ONE YOu Wi ‘ ter Kee OULDN'T (PRs t. PPMIEETH LEY HW WER See: THE two pector ¢ could By Lindsay Denison. Comme, ly Yoshie eaSS ICHOLAS, King of Montenegro, N ts dead in France. And now we shall never sco him, Private Herb and L And we both hoped very earnestly that we should. The King of Montenegro, after his flight from the Black Mountain, had rented a chateau on the outskirts of Merignac, a guburb of Bordeaux. It Was a gray stone Italian palace, vet back an eighth of a mile in a great park on the highway, from which only glimpses could be caught throug vistas of wonderfuly kept trees and shrubbery. Just inside the high iron fence on the road was a cultivated strip, on which grew six or eight rows of American sweet corn. [t was 4 strangely attractive place. It is to the everlasting credit of the per- sonnel and patients of the Beau Desert Hospital Center, a scant miles sway, that no complaint of depreda- tons ever came to headquarters from the King’s caretakers. For the chateau was officially closed, The lawns were trimmed, The corn was hoed, the gravel walks and roads were freshly scratched, But the windows were boarded up. Private Herb returned from an er to Bordeaux after supper one ternoon with his eyes as big woe of a five-year-old youngster who has seen his rst circus parad: No It 1 ever have found fault with b b's soldior manners—but under our uniforms he was very mucb the relation of an aggressively loya) kid brother, and we n knew it “Does the Captain know," he said, The King of him just road near his plice. that the King ls back? Montenegro, 1 now down the Ran the side car within three feet of him” “Hadn't heard of it," I said “You can get ydur supper at the patients’ mess in half an hour." The patients were served in relays, which carried their supper hour ulong until halt- past seven or eight. Gupper meaat aothing in Herbs h. naw a eae ng life just Did the Captain ever see a King he asked along. ‘The when I tell ‘em. But if the Capta had been with me they'd have to.” “L wish L had," 1 naid. “L haven't put the sid he said, eagerly nen, fellers won't believe me n car up yety “We can get down there and back in fifteen minutos. He didnt have his crown on, but, gee he's & King ail right." After ui, there were some records to be delivered at the Muairie at Merignac, and the Mayor was usua’ round at that hour of the evening We went Knorted into the village along the green-bordered white table-smooth road, all forget ful of royalty, | Was startled by tby suddenness with which the side ca. stopped here he is!” gasped Private Herb triumphantly. In the space before the King’s villa gate stood a war- worn s dier, He was ax nny. His ene out in two under hung battle-stained pair of United a fine States hobnails, “Now, when | tell th work I've seen aking," said Private Herb; “those fresh guy over in barracks will take the Captain's word for it.” ‘The big black man shambled to the side of the car and held out a recep- tive palm. ‘Cigarette Americaine?” he mur- mured, pleadingly, “Une, deux, trols, ? 5 ene oe eee ee we ettes America Je suis biewse; Je suis tres fa (lam inded soldier; Lum al) used up) He opened his biouse and pulled wside his shirt and showed a horrid sear ucroas his shoulder. He pointed n the d ion of a French hospital dowr t road toward Bordeaux whe hundreds of bi k troops were unile " “Cirarettos Ameri caines,” he repeated, responding with a terrific smile to my efforta to Keep my face straight on the side toward ‘rivate Herh, “pour mol et mes cama) pa-bas, (Por me and tlie other fellow, down yonder) 1 had noticed tn bottom of th wide car a carton of American eli ettes ibrouht back by Private Hert rom Bordeaux commiseary silos h visited when on a hurry up aid, “the Kin & will come ancodM With @ carton of cigarettes bh: will confer on us the Decoration of Montenegrin Order of Honchos Pat we must swear n: ment that he hus met | the decors s delive ary Private Herb d t 4 cigars ettes 40 violently he pulled my legs out of the sic We went our ways. It was a long time before 1 found the tact to explain things to Private Herb Rut £ think he forgave me, At Jeast I didn't tell anybody els “Perhaps,” was what he sald, "some time when this damn war is over, the Captain and I can ne buck and see a sure enough King. Mut we shall never see Nicholas of Montenegro, JAR roe Copyrent, 107}, by the Presa Publishing Co, (The New York Evening World) JARR wabbied weakly down "TAE. RY testing wife that he felt per- fectly all right and thut his cold was cured. It wus not from weakness he wabbled, but from ail the medicine he had been compelled to take by his good Indy. Much'of it had been quinine, and quinine always made Mr. Jaer diszy. He met hia friend, John W, Rangle, down the atreet, who remarked (hat Mr. Jarr wel “Maybe it's was not ping ste tooling: ous we hear so much ai suggested Mr % “It'y very dangerous, must die of It." haven't the sloaping sickn growled Mr, Jarr, “1 hardly slept # wink last night “Maybe you've got typhus thal t nis are bringing into tus Mr, Rungle remarked. cold, and the old's better," Mr, Jarr You don't look aa though your cold better,” sald Mr, Rangle. “Let's back to my bourne, T got medicine left that cured ie, medicine, if you Jurr retorted trnly you got th Mr. Hung but a replied nowiing Yo mor please!” Mr “Maybe arked et it ure is Une phir in Mr, Ju stale distemper,” re+ humans And the “Oh, at CLO Just pur Irinking wate gave John W. Kangie a and parted with him sume, or no noticed he ne coughed tn excite d Jenk mow wid nd nd away, 6 brusquely A man with a aad put his ale hot extract wid jike uae al head in a f balsam apple. Fritz, the shipping clerk, told me he did that when he had a col: “Did it cure the cold?" asked Mr. Jarr, not that he cared, but just to talk. No, Fritz said it didn't do his cold & bit of good,” replied Jenkins, “but it made his children laugh to see their olf man sitting with his head in a bag” “What you should take is a hot toddy,” spoke up Johnson, the cash- jer, coming over. “What you need is D FAMIDY MG CARNELT a@ good hoi luddy, made of the “Where can [ old stuff?” bi “Do you think Lam « be asked the cashier indignantly, an you beat itt” remarked ti bookkeeper. “This rum hound is se” lost to all shame and decency that hey” pretends to be sick tn order to Obs! tain liquor. And Ke never lowered his and the boss was saying it, ing by So, Mr. Jarr dared not sek for thee) day off on a plea of sickness, ta) rtless world, and Mr, Jarr® rs the reason there has never been. aamnl sympathy for the Turk ts because lom ago his enemies began to call © Sick Man of Burope."* and Jill went up the /hill ” And down without a tumble For youngsters fed on good Bond Bread ; Are strong and never stumbles <3 ——