THE BEE: OMAHA. MONDAY,. JULY 22, 1912
91
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Sherlocko the Monk Tlle Episode of the Scattered Groceries'
(Copy rust JJ13. Natt New Association)
Drawn for The Bee by GusMager
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1 THERE 1 SEE HOW THESE TMtNfi
HAVE BEEN SCATTERED ABOUT ?
I AC Wt: UAVe kir tA-r r -v a
1 CAN'T UNtEtSTANt If AT AIL , j
IT SEEMS, MY DEAR. UATSO, THAT ONCfj
DISTURBED THESE ONIONS ANI
BEETS AR.E INTACT
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II I fA-K-ftFfrl&i riF HAT WA& RPtM fciiwl Ks I
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A UST OF GROCERIES '.
THOSE Mfcf,
WERE NOT tAT
OP A 30CRY irrr
TXET HAVE AM mnntlMT
Dtwtirtfr ON THIS
1 FT 115. 2n T n
GROCERY STORE J
A I UaT LOVEStCfcO, TELL "ItXlfc SWBETHEAJCT
I NOT TO PtSTUtB THE PACKAGES SO MUCH r
P. Wek SHE SEARCHES FOR THOSE UTTLC
lT yJN NOTES THAT TOU SMUGGLE INTO HEIQ
Zn4' House N HE. OCRaeS ( ' .
M I iiO I I I 1 m W l ma I fir T ' I B I II
-" ..mwi m iii if a v r i 1 w m-mjm it ifcaif m -
''
Hunting a Husband
- . . -
Helen Robbins Tries to Defend Maynard, bat the Widow
Will Hear tfothjng of Him. .
' By Virginia Terhone Vn DeWater.
Batflca was not mistaken, for alter thinks of that kind of thing, and John!
moment's reflection. - Helen' Bobbins
' took up her tale of protest . .
' "My dear girl."' she began deprecat
, ingly, "how do you know that all this
talk about poor old Bob Meynard is true?
jilt may be all Idle gossip.. Indeed, I feel
' that your viewpoint is but the result of
your morbid fancy excited by the fact
; that he drank a highball in your pres
? encfe. 7ou are to nervous and touchy
j -with regard to things of that kind, Bea
trice, to be able to take a sane view of
. them." .
' "I can scarcely see where my view.
point Is not 'sane,' asserted Beatrice,
.controlling, voice ' and manner that, she
' might not show how excited she really
was. "Perhaps, Helen, If you had been
' at the Arcadian, aa I was last night,
"and bad seen Robert Maynard so drunk
that ' the waiters were ' forced : to expel
.'him, you might still, in the cause of
' blind loyalty, disbelieve your eyes' 'and
'ears. But t can't."
'Tra sure you were mistaken," insisted
' Helen, with the calm and irritating ob
stinacy of an outwardly amiable woman.
i
How could I.be mistaken about such
'her. hostess. ,
' ' '"Well, ou ' irilgnt ' e'aslly rb'e: wrong
about It'" -reiterated Heleh. ' ' '"
Beatrice laughed disagreeably.
"Or' drunk myself, why don't 'you ' sug
gest?" with an angry sarcasm.
"Beatrice." exclaimed the shocked
guest! "Don't be so vulgar. But I can't
believe my ears when you tell me such
things of Robert. By the way, who was
with, you?" she asked suddenly. ,
"I acknowledge." admitted Helen, "that
I have heard from several people that
Robert Maynard has been drinking oc
casionally lately, but not to excess, and
r could hardly believe even that, if it is
true?' she continued blandly.- "I suppose
It is because the poor fellow Is so lonely
ind unhappy that he would do almost
anything to forget his sorrow for a
little' while. He misses his wife dread
fully,!'' "He; must!" sneered Beatrice. j
"Oh, beatrice." reproved the widower's
champion, "how can J-ou 6peak' ;ln that
way you, who know for yourself what
the torture of such bereavement is?"
But the widow did not "reply" imme
diately, and. during the silence that fol
lowed, Helen, looked at her hostess with
a gaze in which uncertainty and triumph
were mingled. Inwardly Beatrice was
fighting against the impluse to dilate,
further upon Maynard's delinquencies.
However artistically and consistently one
may. maintain a p'osa or a sham, the time
Is pretty sure to come when she will suf
fer , because of It or rebel against it
Beatrice felt now that she had reached
this, period, for she could not explain to
her' friend her horror' of a drinking man,
without tactily admitting by her manner
that she had the unfortunate experience
of knowing such a one Intimately, thus
virtually acnpkledging her own ( social
hypocrisy in posing as. Torn, Minor's be
reaved widow. t
So, not feeling It safe to talk on the
disputed subject, she sat silently by .the
-window, watching the' long , tree ' shad
. ows cast across the' park ' beneath her
by the slowjy sinking sun..And,' as
she. watched and mused, her anger died
out gradually and. her pulses beat once
more quietly. At .last she trusted her
self vto speak. . . . , ...
"I may have wronged Mr. . Maynard,"
she added, dispassionately. "No doubt
the : memory of his dead wife is very
dear to him. CartalnlyVwith a. flash
of sarcasm and a rueful laugh "he talks
of , her enough to Justify that supposi
tion." Helen Robbins drew her chair nearer.
"Now, my dear," she said, sweetly with
the manner of one who congratulates
herself on having kept her temper
throughout- a painful - discussion "we
won't talk of Robert any more just now.
Perhaps you are a little prejudiced on.
that subjejet, and besides" with a slight
feline touch "I am merely his disinter
ested friend, and you only a chance ac
quaintance of his, so why should we
squabble about the man u if be ware
near and dear to u both?" ,
Beatrice's recently acquired seif-conftrpi
did not desert her, and her demeanor was
so calm that her guest did not suspect
that the astute remark had had any
affect
"1 really came around this afternoon,"
Helen continued, "to speak to you of
pleasanter matters. My John is asking
several friends to dine with, us to-morrow
evening. We're going away to th coun
try in two -weeks from now and the place
is all upset, so we can't have anything
but a plain family dinner. It's horribly
inconvenient,' of course, but a rain never
says it will be best to have these men
now while he thinks of ltl He has asked
them often to come, and had always for.
gotten to set a date. One of them is an
artist the xother a physician.. Both were
at college with John,, and he has neg
lected them shamefully, for, as they are
old bachelors, and he has a' wife and
home, we ought to have had them at our
house long ago. Now, dear, won't you
please help me out by coming tomorrow
night to dinner with 'them? There will
be these two strange men, and I have
asked Cousin Hannah to make the third;
woman-but she will not .be much of a
drawing card, and I do want you!"
If; Beatrice felt a momentary Impulse
to refuse the urgent invitation, it was
crushed before the declination reached
her lips as the contrasted the dinner,
with its possibilities of cheer and plea
sure, with the stupid evening meal she
would probably have in her own lonely
little apartment. PerhapS'toq, the phrase,
"two strange men," may have tempted
her to a-favorable consideration, of the
idea, although she did not admit this
fact, even to her fnner consciousness. But
she was a bit surprised to feel how dif
ferent society, and social functions ap
peared to her within the past months.
Right .after . her husband's death , she
felt that,, men were, unworthy -of a. wo
man's consideration. !ter, when she
became accustomed to her freedom, ehe
thought of men as selfish,' egotistical be
lngs, In whom she had no interest. But
since ehe had tried the wings of that
much prised freedom, and had fluttered
out in the world and had proved, that
she still had the ability to charm, man
kind, she found herself enjoying the com
pany of the few. man she knew, and
taking their compliments and homage
with an eager sest that had heretofore
been foreign to her character.
So she accepted gratefully Helen's in
vltation and became Immediately more
vivacious and voluble In her talk: '
"It is always delightful to dine at your
house," she said affably, "and really I
have so many lonely evenings that It is
genuine kindness to me when one of
my friends , invites me away from this
quiet little home, in which the children
are sound asleep at 8 o'clock."
She had actually forgotten her hostile
attitude of mind toward Helen for the
time, at least.
-'At what hour do you dine, dear?"
she asked as her guest rose to go home.
"At our usual hour, 7 o'clock," replied
Helen. "I am thoroughly glad that you
can come.
"And so am I!" exclaimed Beatrice sin
cerely.
Wanted More : Guardian - Angels
By Beatrice Fairfax
1
The girt who has a : good, sensible
mother, and who heeds that mother, has
a guardian angel sufficient for all earthly
needs. - - .
But there re girls whose mothers- are
weak, inane and lack judgment, though
it be heresy to say It And hre are lso
girls whose mothers are with tho rtal
angels.
' For the - girls who are motherless . in
either way, there should be-mors guar
dian anger. Relatives, good friends,
teachers; 'the policemen and all the laws
of the land are not sufficient to keep
such , girls from destruction when they
once set their feet that way.
They fall In love vith the wrong man.
All who are interested in a girl's bent in
terests ; argue, "command, threaten anj
Implore. All of which does no good. The
girl, apt in the language of romance, be
lieves she is "constant," and takes prld
in the word.
There is a word not so pretty which de
scribes her better "'stubborn!" So stub
born is she that with a realization of the
pitfalls before her she walks right Into
them rather than turn about and a.lmit
she has been traveling a dangerous path..
Under this word "stubbo.-n," I would
class the writer of the following letter.
She .concedes that all the warnings lier.
relatives give her are base oq fact but
continues on jthe path which will lead
to her sorrow.
She asks advice. Are not her relatives
giving it till they are black in theface?
Haven't they shouted themselves hoarse
with their warnings?
"I keep company," she, writes, "with1 a
young man who is very kind to me. - He
always dresses neatly and cpmes to see
me three times a week. ' I have no father
or 'mother. I live with my older sister.
"My folks say he is not truthful, and
that he is a heavy drinker. I rave been
told by friends, also,- that after he 'has
left me at night he has been seen com
ing out of saloons drunk as can be. Half
the time he does not work, and every
one says he can hardly support himself,
much less a wife. I have seen him often
when he had drink In him. -
"Because I go with him I am on bad
terms with . my brother and brother-in-law,
and they don't speak to me. I
don't like to live that way. I am 12,
and my friend is 24. I have a tew dol
lars saved,, and they say he is after my
money. What would you advise me to
"Jo?" '
A girl deliberately plays with fire, and
turns from ' the blase to ask for advice!
Do? What , shall she do? Run from
the fire as fast as she cs'nl There can
be no half way measures. . '
The man Isn't truthful. H doesn't
earn more than enough to support him
self, and he gets drunk.
To offset all his vicef. she en-unrates
but one virtue: He Is ?'klnd" to her.
"It would be more to her Interest It
she -knew -how to be 'kind to herself. If
the were kind to herself she would know
that no man who drinks can be kind to
a girl by paying her attention.
The only way he can be kind is, to
never go near her, or write.
The only way left for him to be kind
to . any woman Is to let, that woman
remain In Ignorance of his existence. If
he can't reform, In no other way can he
kind to the woman to whom he gives the
task of reforming him. If he cut her to
death by Inches he would be more hu
mane. The advice this girl's relatives give her
Is the best there Is. No one could give
her better. . She owes it to them to
take It.
She.' need not hope for anything but
sorrow If she marries him, and It Is my
earnest opinion that, sorrow m what sb
wants unless she goes to her relative
and acknowledges she has been In the
wrong.
How to Be Eeal English
U WINIFRED BLACK.
The English newspapers are having a store the day
tine time worrying about the dreadful
"American" these dtys. "Such voices,
tuch manners, such creatures alto
tether."
rz nop
if
; ;: Th,. Queen of Hearts By Nell Brinkley
Copyright 1912, National New Ass'n
He Didn't Lose Mach Groand.
This ttory, which Is about a man whose
name appeared on one of the two tickets
at' the recent .election, is a true one.
Therefore, It wouldn't be fair to tell hit
name.
The man in question once before made
a race for office. He grew up In Kansas
City and was still immensely popular In
the neighborhood in which he had lived
as a boy. So the committee gave him an
opportunity to make his maiden speech
In the hall in which as a small boy ha
had listened' 'to the spellbinders.
When his turn to speak came the candi
date labored manfully for fifteen minutes
and theught he waa doing well In spite of
tho fact that he had forgotten his speech
a number of times and his words showed
a disposition to turn crosswise tn .his
mouth. After It was all over he walked
down the aisle, mopping his-burnlng face.
witn ms nanaKercnier, outtonnoied a com
panlop of his boyhood days and drew him
aside.
,;"Bay, Bill," he said, "tell me on the
square now, what do you think of the
effect of that speech?"
, Bill hesitated. "Out with It." persisted
tne candidate.
"Well." said Bill., "those fellows in there
have known you since boyhood and they
have been pretty strong for you, and
wen, f guess they'll still vote for you."-
Kansas City Journal.
Waatetl.
A smack for the mouth of the river.
A collar for a neck ef land.
A brooch for the breast of a hill.
A knapsack for the shoulder of
f-mountain. ,-
fmun iwr ine neari pi a uower.
Boots for the feet of destiny. -A
coin for the palm of victory.
A taste for the tongue of flame.
A jewel for the ear of the people.
Clothing for the legs of the furni
ture. A drink for the throat of the chlm-
A little padding for the bones of con
tention. ,A wis for the baldness of a statement.
A tonic for the blood of the nation.
Phlebotomy for the arteries of trade.
A wrinkle remover for the frown on
the face of destiny.
Perfume for the breath of the night
wind. Judge, -
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they are
a relief.
taken
Taken
for
fof
And Mrs. Deven-
port of New York
Is tn print In de
fense of ' our tit
ters, and our
ooualns, and our
aunts, and our un
cles, and all the
rest of the family
"The trouble la
Europe," say Mrs.
Davenport, "la that
the oM-fashioned
woman 1m too well
remembered. The
quiet, dignified
Americana are not
noticed tn ' Europe,
English. Oh, what
English only fancy.
And yet It Is very easy to be taken for
English, even in England. All there It
to do Is to be rude and just a bit awk
ward ana more than a bit snobbish to
those beneath you or more than a trifle
obsequious to those above you; never n
swer any well meaning stranger who
dares address a harmless remark to you.
Never travel flrst-cisas. It toste money.
wrap up In a mangy rug and frees
like an Englishman.
Don't 'have a fire in your bed-sitting
room, only American bounders do that
ort of thing. Wear bed sock over your
thoea; tie up your poor head In a knitted
tcarf like grandma used to make; perhaps
tome bally Tankee may take pity on you
and Invite you to tit by bis fire where
you can watch the really dreadful way h
fusses over his poor wife and. makes her
take the warmest seat only fancy and
sits in the draught himself. Isn't it amus.
ing?
When you meet- a Frenchman, glare at
him he isn't English. '
Never mtts a chance to tail a German
what a boor be must be to be German.
When you hear two Italians speaking
In liquid music smile at another English
man ahd lift contemptuous eyebrowt over
the language of.Tasno. That's English.
If you are a man, wear clothes-that
look a1 If they really belonged to your
big, brother, have a coat that rides up tn
the collar, put on boots that weigh a ton
more or lest, throw away that good cigar,
get a pipe and smoke It all over the place,
ladles or no ladles. .
If you're 4 woman and want to be taken
for, English, that's easy, too almost too
easy.
Get the worst hat you can find, th
one you bought for 12.60 at the country
the motor skidded. Put
some more flowers en it bluer ones, lad
der ones, purpier ones tie them on With
a battered ribbon, give the hat ta Fldo
to play with an hour or so, and then flat
ten It down over your eyes. There's tMt'g
the way. How awfully English -regular
Bond street effeot 4 1
Get out the old tweed skirt, too Short,
too scant, a little longer tn the back than
In front. Where's that coat the maid had
In the mountains last year? Short
walsted. is It? Thaft right. Now there,
you are, regular plceadtlly dream. ,. No
one will ever accuse you of being Anrtrl
can. . ........ ' v,
As to the manners of the Englishman
and the American class for class thc la
no comparison. The Englishman "ias
manner, yes! But we are speaking Pf
manners. , - . '
The average Englishman will rise when
his wife comes Into the room and mk
her sit in the draught. The average
Englishman villi pull out a chair foihila
wlfe-and give her the tough part ottha
teak. ,
The average Englishman wouldn't
speak to a stranger for worlds, but when
you are no longer a stranger he telli'jrou
his whole family history before you feave
known 'him a week.
He'll actually make fun of his mother's
ideas and reveal family secrets an Ameri
can would not let wild horses drag'jout
Of, him. , .., s.n
Courteous? What do you call , cour
tesy? The proper lifting of a hat," the
exact shade of manner at the exact time
for it? The Englishman has that, but If
courtesy means what we , think it does
here in this terriblo America of ours
klndnete, consideration, sympathy-there
cannot be the least discussion.
As to the old-fashioned American, we
aren't so very much athamed of him,
either, Mr. Davenport, a you may be
lieve, living at you do In New Tork.
where the old-fashioned American ti
about at extinct as th Dodo.
The old-fashioned American talked a
bit loud, he braggtd a good deal, mayb
he did estimate everything by the amount
of money It cost, but h never took the
snug side of the carriage away from a
woman in his life, he never told his
mother's weakness to any man alive, and
he would have died cheerfully rather
than think of marrying a girl for her
money. r ,
Pretty decent sort of a fellow, the old-
fashioned American, after all. now you
rome to think of it, and we'll Just stand
for him and his type a little while longer
on this aide of the ocean, even if ha
did wear the wrong Jewelry at the wrong
time, and turn red In the face when a
slender-waisted maid tried to carry his
suit case for him.
The Manicure Lady
"The fellow that Just went out ' wa a
swell fellow,"- slad the. Manicure Lady,
Did you notice him, George?" , ' ;
"Not particularly," said the Head Bar
ber, "exoept that he was big and huuky
enough to look like a white hope. Why?"
"I want to tell you about that chap.'l
said the Manicure Lady. "He Is th
first real gentleman that ha . been in
here ' this week, and about the third or
fourth gentleman I have met since good
ness knowi when.
"I with there wat more men like him
In the world, Georg. He tjld mo all
about himself in a quiet sort of way when
he tat down. I seen from the bashful
way he acted that he wasn't used to
having1 his nail did. It seems he is a
Iron worker, and ha saved up a ttu-usa.id
dollars. He Is going to be married today,
and he told me that ha had never had
his hands fixed up by anybody xcept
himself and some toap and hot water.
He said that the girl he is going to marry
has the most toft and beautiful white
hands he ever taw, and he exp.it'ned to
me the best he could that he wanted to
have his hands look at least half-way
good when the preacher was doing his
duty. '
"I guess I am a good deal of a 1erro
ciat, George, but I certainly liked the
way that man sat there, with his big
strong paw full of little scare from the
kind of work he did. I have held a l"t
of hands slnoe I broke into this profes
sion, and the most of them weren't kind
of hands I would like to hold courting
on a sofa. This chap's hands could have
broken mine in two with a tinkle twist
but he waa as gentle as a kid, and be
never said a word to me that he wouldn't
have said to his sister. If there wat
more men like that getting their nails did.
the manicure girls would be more
happy."
Did he tip your' asked the cynical
Head Barber.
He eertsmly did, George," said the
Manicure. Lady, "and he waa a perfect ,
dear, too, the way he went about it.
When I waa all through he asked me how
much, and I told him SO cents, and he
gave me a dollar not. Then he aald,
'I hope you won't be offended If 1 ak.
you to keep the change. This is my wed
ding day and I'm celebrating.' Caa you
beat that, George, for New Tork? He
tipped me and hoped I wouldn't be of
fended." "He .looked like a regular guy, ell
right," said the Head Barbers "Them
Iron workers is mostly pretty tough citi
zens in a fight, but that kind Of men la
always good to women."
'1 know it," replied the Manicure Lady.
"It must take a ' awful brave man . to
stand 200 feet up In the air balanced on
a steel beam.".
"You bet," replied th Head Barber,
"but if ha is going to be married he will
be farther up In the air than be ever
waa in his, working hours."
Dropped Out.
The Irish peasant farmers are taking
readily to the motor car. So, too, is the
Irish farmer's wife. Prosperous har
vests have sent plenty of money into
circulation through the four provinces.
With new riches come new social re
sponsibilities and the necessity of being
genteel. Mike Murphy, a contractor of
Mallow. County Cork, celebrated one
of several repeated business aucceasea
by presenting his wife with an auto and
a French chauffeur. Mr. Murphy "read
up" carefully before blossoming forth
in her new grandeur. Then (he invited
Mrs. Hannah Claney for a ride tn the
car. "Whatever you do, Mrs. Clancy,
don't talk to the 'shoffer' at all. not a
word or whisper to him, for it takes his
mind off what he Is doing."-' 8o they
started off at a rapid clip. The chauf.
feur went tip around the corner, and sin
around another corner; sometimes the
car would be on two wheels, finally
Mrs. Clancy touched the chauffeur on the
back and says: "Mr. shoffer, I beg your
Dardon: I was told not to spake to you'
at all. but let me tell you that Mrs. Mur-
Dhv hasn t been in the car lor too last
tea miputqs. ew. Tork Tribune. .
BJS.BE3&5. ).1L5 HEAJR.T5 LLL A SUMMER'S DAT,
.
....