THE HIGHEST QUALITY
MACARONI
36 Age Rec/pe Book Free
SKIMMER MFG.CO.. OMAHA. U.5A
OJittST MACMOWI fAOOKY III kMCitlCA.
WHAT LEY KNEW OF SPORTS
Humorous Ignorance Shown by Men
in Their Effort to Boost Their
Favorite Cities.
Of all the funny stories I recall at
the prefamt -moment. I think l can work
ap the,*>CM; laugh over the tale of the
two Iris^fuion who were arguing about
fho rehj&ve merits of New York and
OhiengoV You know, there is a type
nf persp^i who, when he knows noth
ing ahopt it thing, and finds you don't
know either, will start in and explain
It to you. These two were both of that
kind. Safd one:
"Why, tri New York we have grass
growing right on the roof. Just, the
same Hfk flown on the ground. You ran
have ypar front yard on top of yotrr
house,”
“TWttJtt nothin’,” declared the oth
er. ’Yu Chicago we piny golf on the
roofs.”
‘‘(lAj. You mean that game where
you knqcfc a ball buck and forth across
a net?"
‘‘Yen, fit (it’s If."
“Yon Com tried idjut, tliat's not golf!
You’re talkin’ about croquet.”
“Yo^C fulfil the other one. "I know
yon (•wfWn't mean golf. How would
they gj} tbejiorses up on the roof for
a golf jjltrrm?’’—Chattanooga Times.
IF YOUR CHILD IS CROSS,
FEVERISH, CONSTIPATED
Look Mother! If tongue is coated
cleanse little bowels with “Cali
fornia Syrup of FIbs."
Mothers can rest easy after giving
"California Syrup of Figs,” because in
a few hours all the clogged-up waste,
sour bile and fermenting food gently
moves out of the bowels, and you have
a well, playful child again.
Sick children needn’t be coaxed to
take this harmless “fruit laxative.”
Millions of mothers keep It handy he
canse they know Its action on the
stomach, liver and bowels Is prompt
and sure.
Ask your druggist for a 50-eent bot
tle of “California Syrup of Figs,” which
contains directions for hnltles, children
of all ages and for grown-ups.—Adv.
Johnnie on the Spot.
The young teacher had been having
a trying time with her nature-study
class because Johnnie had discovered
he knew more than she did about birds
and frogs, and had assumed a derisive
attitude in consequence. She appealed
to the man principal, who replied:
“Next time you have the class let me
know. I think I can settle Johnnie.”
He was duly called In, and all went
well at first. With confidence the
principal said at the conclusion of the
lesson: “Now, you may each ask me
ono question.”
Johnnie lmd been silent up to this
time. When it came to his turn lie
rose arid asked:
“lias a duck eye-brows?”—Louisville
Courier-Journal.
Just an Accident.
Two boys had Indulged in a physical
encounter on the playground. At the
end of the affray they were summoned
before the teacher to give an account
of their misdeeds. One of them had a
bloody nose. The teacher looked upon
this sanguinary feature with horror,
and endeavored to instill in its lnfllcter
certain pacific principles.
“Now, Hilly,” she said, “I think you
bight to apologize to Jimmie.”
“Huh! I ain’t a-goln’ to apologize for
ko accident!” ltllly answered.
“Accident? Why, Hilly, how can you
hill It an accident? Didn't you intend
to hit Jimmie on the nose?"
“No, mom, 1 didn’t. I swung fer his j
eye an’ missed!"
“Know thyself," but don't overdo
things by being too exclusive.
Hut If a man Is inclined to be foolish
r silk hat won’t save him.
Instead o!
Worrying
about the high cost of
living, just buy a pack
age of
Grape-Nuts
—still sold at the same
fair price.
Enjoy a morning dish
of this delicious food,
and smile over the fact
that you’ve had a good
breakfast and
Saved Money
1 THE BEST MAN
By
Grace Livingston Hill Lutz
Author of “Marcia Schuyler." "Dawn of the Mamin*,"
"Lo, Michael!” etc. ™
I Philadelphia & London.
J. B. Lippincott Company.
1114.
C’HAPTHR XVI.—(Continued)
‘‘Darling,’’ he said, “I can go farther
than you have asked. From the first
minute my eyes rested upon your face
under that mist of white veil 1 wished
with all my heart that 1 might have
known you before any other man had
found and won you. When you turned
and looked at me with that deep sorrow
in your eyes, you pledged me with every
fiber of my lining to fight for you. I
was yours from that instant. And when
your little hand was laid in mine, my
heart went out in longing to have it
stav in mine forever. 1 know now, as I
did not understand then, that the real
reason for my doing something to make
known my identity at that instant, was
not because I was afraid of any of the
things that might happen, or any scene
1 might make, but because my heart
wan fighting for the right to keep what
had been given mo out of the unknown.
You are my wife, by every law of
heaven and earth, if your heart will but
say yes. 1 love you, as I never knew a
man could love, and yet if you do not
want to stay with me I will set you
free- but it is true that I should never
be the same, for 1 am married to you
In my heart, and always shall lie. Dar
ling look up and answer my question
now.” , , , , ,
He stood before her with outstretched
arms, and for answer she rose and came
to him slowly, with downcast eyes.
"I do not want to be set free, she
^Tlien gently, tenderly, he folded his
arms about her, as if she were too prec
ious to handle roughly, and laid his ups
*lt was the shrill, insistent clang of
the telephone l.ell tbat broke in upon
their bliss. For a moment Gordon let it
ring, but its merciless clatter was not
to be denied; so, drawing Celia within
his arm, he made her come with him to
To* his annoyance, the haughty voice
of Miss Bentley answered him from the
little black distanco of the phone.
His arm was about Celia, and she felt
his whole body stiffen with formality.
"Oh, Miss Bentley! Good morning.
Your message? Why no! Ah. Well, I
have iust come in—"
A pause during which Celia, panic
stricken, handed him the paper on
which she had written Julias message.
“Ah! Oh, yes, I have the message.
Yes, it is very kind of y°u—;
ho murmured stiffly, “but you will
have to excuse me. No, really, it
is utterly Impossible! I have
another engagement—” his arm
stole closer around Celia’s waist and
caught her hand, holding it with a
meaningful pressure. He smiled, with
a grimace toward the telephone which
gladdened her heart. "Pardon me, i
didn’t heur that." he went on.
"Oh, give up my engagement and
come? • ♦ * Not possibly!" His voice
rang with a glad, decided force, and
he held still closer the soft fingers in
his hand. * * * “Well, I'm sorry you
feel that way about it. I certainly am
not trying to be disagreeable. No, I
could not come tomorrow night either.
• * • I cannot make any plans for the
next few days. • * * 1 may have to
leave town again. • * • It is quite
possible I may have to return to New
York. Yes, business has been very
pressing. 1 hope you will excuse me.
I am sorry to disappoint you. No, of
course 1 didn’t do it on purpose. I
shall have some pleasant news to tell
you when I see you again—or " with
a glance of deep love at Celia, "per
haps I shall find means to let you
know of It before 1 see you.”
The color came and went in Celia's
cheeks. She understood what he
meant and nestled closer to him.
“No, no, I could not tell it over the
’phone. No, it will keep. Good things
will always keep If they are well cared
for, you know. No, really I can’t. And
I’m very sorry to disappoint you to
night, but it can’t be helped. • • •
Goodby.”
He hung up the receiver with a sigh
of relief.
"Who Is Miss Bentley?" asked Celia,
with natural interest. She was pleased
that he had not addressed he as “Ju
lia"
“Why, she is a friend—I suppose |
you would call her. She has been talc- i
ing possession of my time lately rather
more than 1 really enjoyed. Still, she
is a nico girl. You’ll like her, I think;
but 1 hope you'll never get too inti
mate. I shouldn't like to have her
continually around. She—" he paused
and finished, laughing—“she makes me
tired.”
"1 was afraid, from her tone when
she 'phoned you, that she was a very
dear friend—that site might be some
one you cared for. There was a sort
of proprietorship in her tone.”
"Yes. that's the very word, proprie
torship," he laughed. "I couldn't care
for her. I never did. I tried to con
sider her in that light one day, be
cause I’d been told repeatedly that I
ought to settle down, but the thought
of having her with me always was—
well—Intolerable. The fact is, ' you
reign supreme in a heart that has
never loved another girl. 1 didn't know
there was such a thing as love like
this. 1 knew I lacked something, but I
didn't know what it was. This is
greater than all the gifts of life, this
gift of your love. And that it should
come to me in this beautiful, unsought
way seems too good to be true!”
He drew her to him once more and
looked down into her lovely face, as
if he could not drink enough of its
sweetness.
"And to think you are willing to be
my wife! My wife!” and he folded
her close again.
A discreet tap on the door announced
the arrival of the man Henry, and
Gordon roused to the necessity of or
dering lunch.
He stepped to the door with a happy
smile and held it open.
"Come in a minute, Henry,” he said.
"This is my wife. I hope you will
henceforth take her wishes as your
special charge, and do for her as you
have done so faithfully for me.”
The man's eyes shone with pleasure
as he bowed low before the gentle lady.
“1 is very glad to heah it, sah, and I
offers you my congratchumlatlons, sah,
and de lady, too. She can't find no
bettah man in the whole United States
dan Mars’ Gordon. I's mighty glad
you done got ma'ied, sah, an’ 1 hopes
you bof have a mighty fine life."
The luncheon was served in Henry's
best style, and his dark face shone as
he stepped noiselessly about, putting
"W** -> '•■WifJiWi- r«f*nW... JUs: iaKwX-j j'i3
14 i
silver china and glass in place, and
casting admiring glances at the lady,
who stood holding the little miniature
In her hand and asking questions with
a gentle voice:
"Your mother, you say? IIow dear
she is! And sho died so long ago!
You never knew her? Oil, how strange
and sweet and pitiful to have a beau
tiful girl-mother like that!"
She put out her hand to his in the
shelter of the deep window, and they
thought Henry did not see the look and
touch that passed between them; but
he discreetly averted his eyes and
smiled benignly at the salt cellars and
the celery ho was arranging Then he
hurried out to a florist’s next door and
returned with a dozen white roses,
which ho urranged in a queer little
crystal pitcher, one of the few articles
belonging to his mother that Gordon
possessed. It had never been used be
fore, except to stand on the mantel.
It was after they had finished their
delightful luncheon, and Henry had
cleared the table and left the room, that
Gordon remarked:
‘‘I wonder what has become of
George Hayne. Do you suppose be
means to try to make trouble?" I
Delia’s hands fluttered to her throat
with a little gesture of fear. "Oh!" she
said. “I had forgotten him! How
terrible. Ho will do something, of!
course. He will do everything. He 1
will probably eavry out all his threats. 1
How could I have forgotten! Perhaps
mamma is now in great distress. What
can we do? Wliat can I do?"
She looked up at him helplessly, and
his heart hounded at the thought that
she was his to protect as long as life
should last, and that she already de
pended upon him.
"Don’t be frightened,” he soothed
her. "Ho cannot do anything very
dreadful, and If he tries we’ll soon si
lence him. Wliat he has written in
those letters Is blackmail. He Is sim
ply a big coward,- who will run and hide
as soon as he is exposed. He thought
you did not understand law, and so
took advantage of you. Pin sure I can
silence him."
“Oh, do you think so? But mamma!
Poor mamma! It will kill her! And
George will stop at nothing when he
is crossed. I have known him too long.
It will be terrible if he carries out his
threat." Tears wore in her eyes, agony
was in her face.
“Wo must telephone your mother at
once and set lie” heart at rest. Then
v,-e can lind out Just wliat ought to be
done,” said Gordon soothingly. "It was
unforgivably thoughtless in mo not to
have done it before.”
Celia's face was radiant at the
thought of speaking to her mother^
“Oh, how beautiful! Why didn't 1
think of that before? What perfectly
dear things telephones are."
With one accord, they went to the
telephone table.
"Shall you call them up, or shall I?”
he asked.
"You call and then I will speak to
mamma," she said, her eyes shining
with her Joy In him. "I want them
to hear your voice again. They can’t
help knowing you are all right when
they hear your voice."
For that lie gave her a glance very
much worth having.
"Just how do you account for the
fact that you didn't think I was all
right yesterday afternoon? I have a
very realizing sense that you didn’t. I
used my voice to the best of my abil
ity, but it did no good then.”
“Well, you see, that was different.
There were those letters to be account
ed for. Mamma and Jeff don't know
anything about the letters."
them now ?’’
She drew her brows down a minute
and thought.
“You'd better find out how much they
already know," he suggested. "If this
George Hayne hasn’t turned up yet,
perhaps you can wait until you can
write, or we might be able to go up to
morrow and explain It ourselves.”
“Oh, could wo? How lovely!”
“I think we could," said Gordon.
“I’m sure I can make it possible. Of
course, you know a wedding Journey
Isn't exactly in the program of the
secret service, but I might be able
to work them for one. I surely can
In a few days if this Holman business
doesn't hold me up. I may be needed
for a witness. I’ll have to talk with
the chief first."
“Oh, how perfectly beautiful! Then
you call them up, and just say some
thing pleasant—anything, you know—
and then I'll speak to mamma."
She gave him the number and in a
few minutes a voice from New York
said, “Hello."
''Hello," called Gordon. "Is this Mr.
Jefferson Hathaway? . . . Well, this
is your new brotherlnlaw. How are
you all? . . . Your mother recovered
from all the excitement und weariness?
. . . That's good. . . . What's that?
. . . You've been trying to phone us
in Chicago? . . . But we're not in Chi
cago, We changed our minds and camo
to Washington instead. . . . Yres, we’re
in Washington—the Harris apart
ments. Wo have been very selfish not
to have communicated witli you sooner.
At least 1 have. Celia hasn't had any
choice In the matter. I've kept her so
busy. Yes, she's very well and seems
to look happy. She wants to speak for
herself. I'll try to arrange to bring her
up.tomorrow for a little visit. I want
to see you, too. We've a lot of things
to explain to you. . . . Here is Celia.
She wants to speak to you."
“Celia, her eyes shining, her lips
quivering with suppressed excitement,
took tile receiver.
“Oh, Jeff, dear, it's good to hour your
voice," she said. “Is everything all
right? Y'es, I've been having a perfectly
.beautiful time, and I've something fine
to tell you. All thoso nice things you
said to mo just before you got off the
train are true. Yes, he's Just as nice
as you said, and a great deal nicer be
sides. Oh. yes. I'm very happy, and I
want to speak to mamma, please. Jeff,
Is she all right? Is she perfectly well,
and not fretting a bit? You know you
promised to tell me. What's that? She
thought I looked sad? Well, I did, but
that's all gone now. Everything is per
fectly beautiful. Tell mother to come
to the 'phone, pieasS—1 want to make
her understand.”
“Pm going to tell her, dear." she
whispered, looking up at Gordon, "fm
afraid George wilt get there before we
do and make her worry." For answer
he stooped and kissed her, his arm
encircling her and drawing her close.
‘Whatever you think best, dearest,” be
whispered back.
"Is that you, mamma?” With a hap
py smile she turned back to the ’phone.
Dear Mamma! Yes, I’m all sate and
j happy, and I’m so sorry you have wor
[iied. We won’t let you do it again.
But listen; I’ve something to tell you,
[ a surprise—mamma, 1 did not marry
, George Hayne at all. No, I say 1 did
l not marry George Hayne at all. George
Hayne is a wicked man. I can’t tell
you about it over the ’phone, but that
was why I looked so sad. Yes, I was
married all right, but not to George,
tie’s oh, so different, mother you can’t
think. He’s right here beside me now,
and mother, he is just as dear—you’d
be very happy about him if you could
see him. What did you say? Didn’t 1
mean to marry George? Why mother,
.1 never wanted to. 1 was awfully un
happy about it, and I knew I made you
feel so, too, though 1 tried not to. But
i’ll explain all about it. You’ll be per
fectly satisfied when you know all
about it. No, there’s nothing
whatever for you to worry about. Ev
erything is right now and life looks
more beautiful to me than it ever did
before. What’s his name? Oh!" she
iooked up at Gordon ■with a funny little
expression of dismay. She had for
gotten and he whispered it in her ear.
"Cyril—’’
"its Cyril, mother! Isn’t that a pret
ty name? Which name? Oh, the nrat
name, of course. The last name?"
"Gordon—■” he supplied in her ear
again.
"Cyril Gordon, mother,” she said,
giggling in spite of herself at her
strange predicament. . . . "Yes,
mottier. 1 am very, very happy. t
couldn’t be happier unless I hau you
and Jeff, too, and”—she paused, hesi
tating at the unaccustomed name—"and
Cyril says were coming to visit you
tomorrow. We ll come up and see you
and explain everything. And you re not
to worry about George Hayne if he
comes. Just let Jeff put him off by
telling him you have sent for me, or
something of the sort, and don’t pay
any attention to what he says. What ?
You say he did come? How strange—
and he hasn't been back? I’m so thank
ful. He is dreadful. Oh, mother, you
don’t know what I’ve escaped! And
Cyril is good and dear. What? You
want to speak to him? All right. He's
right here. Goodbye, mother, dear, till
tomorrow. And you’ll promise not to
worry about anything? All right. Here
is—Cyril.”
Gordon took the receiver.
"Mother, I’m taking good care of her,
just as i promised, and I’m going to
bring her tor a flying visit up to see
you tomorrow. Yes, i 11 take good care
of her. title Is very dear to me. The
best thing that ever came into ray
life."
Then a mother’s blessing came thrill
ing over the wires, and touched the
handsome, manly face with tenderness.
"Thank you,” he said; "I shall try
always to make you glad you said those
words."
They returned to looking in each oth
er's eyes, after the receiver was hung
up, as if they had been parted a long
time. It seemed somehow as if their
joy must be greater than any other
married couple, because they had all
their courting yet to do. It was beau
tiful to think of what was before them.
There was so much on both sides to
be told; and to be told over again be
cause only half had been told; and
there were so many hopes and experi
ences to be exchanged; so many opin
ions to compare, and to rejoice over
because they were alike on many es
sentials. Then there were the rooms to
bo gone through, and Gordon's pictures
and favorite books to look at and talk
about, and plans for the future to be
touched upon—just barely touched
upon.
The apartment would do until they
could look about and get a house, Gor
don said, his heart swelling with the
proud thought that at least he would
have a real home, like his other mar
ried friends, with a real princess to pre
side over it.
Then Celia had to tell about the hor
ror of the last three months, with the
unpleasant shadows of the preceding
years back of it. She told this in the
dusk of evening, before Henry had
come in to light up, and before they
had realized that it was almost dinner
time. She told it with her face hidden
on her husband’s shoulder, and his
arms close about her, to give her com
fort at each revelation of the story.
They tried also to plan what to do
about George Hayne; and then there
was the whole story of Gordon's Jour
ney and commission from the time the
old chief had called him into the office
until he came to stand beside her at
the church altar and they were mar
ried. It was told in careful detail with
all the comical, exasperating and piti
ful incidents of white dog and little
newsboy; but the strangest part about
it all was that Gordon never said one
word about Julia Bentley and her Im
aginary presence with him that first
day. and he never even knew that he
had left out an important detail.
Celia laughed over the white dog
and declared they must bring him home
to live wdth them; and she cried over
the story of the brave little newsboy
and was eager to visit him in New
York, promising herself all sorts of
pleasure In taking him gifts and per
manently bettering his condition;
and it was in this way that Gor
don incidentally learned that his wife
had a fortune in her own right, a fact
that for a time gave him great un
easiness of mind until she had soothed
him and laughed at him for an hour
or more; for Gordon wras an inde
pendent creature and had ideas about
supporting his wife by his own toil.
Besides It seemed an unfair advantage
to have taken a wife and a fortune as
it were unaware.
But Celia’s fortune had not spoiled
her, and she soon made him see that
it had always been a mere incident in
her scheme of living; comfortable and
pleasant incident to be sure, but still
an incident to be kept always in the
background, and never for a moment
to be a cause for self-gratulation or
pride.
Gordon found himself dreading the
explanation that would have to come
when he readied New York and faced
his wife's mother and brother. Celia
had accepted his explanations, because,
somehow by the beautiful ways of the
spirit, her soul had found and believed
in his soul before the truth was made
known to her. but would her mother
and brother bo able also to believe?
And he fell to planning with Celia Just
how ho should tell the story; and this
led to his bringing out a number of
letters and papers that would be worth
while showing as credentials, and every
step of the way, as Celia got glimpse
after glimpse into his past, her face
shone with Joy and her heart leaped
with the assurance that her lot had
been cast in goodly places, for she per
ceived not only that this man was
honored and respected in high places,
but that his early life had been pe
culiarly pure and true.
The strange loneliness that had sur
rounded his young manhood seemed
suddenly to have broken ahead of him,
and to have opened out into the glory
of the companionship of one peculiarly
fitted to fill the need of his life. Thus
they looked Into one another’s eyes
reading their life Joy, and entered into
the beautiful miracle of acquaint
anceship.
CHAPTER XVII.
The next morning quite early the
'phone called Gordon to the office.
The chief's secretary said the matter
was urgent.
He hurried away leaving Celia some
what anxious lest their plans for go
ing to New York that day could not be
carried out, but she made up her mind
not to fret even if the trip had to be
put off a little, and solaced herself
with a short visit with her mother over
tho telephone.
Gordon entered his chief’s office a
trifle anxiously, for he felt that in
justice to his wife he ought to^take her
right back to New York and get mat
ters tiiere adjusted; but he feared that
there would be business to hold him at
home until the Holman matter was
settled.
The chief greeted him affably and
bade him sit down.
“I am sorry to have called you up so
early." he said, "but we need you. The
fact is. they've arrested Holman afid
! five other men. and you are in imme
idiate demand to identify them. Would
lit be asking too much of an already
| overworked man to send you back to
(New York today?”
; Gordon almost sprang from his seat
, in pleasure.
i "it just exactly fits in with my plans,
! or rather, my wishes,” he said, smiling.
"There are several matters of my own
; that I would like to attend to in New
i York and for which of course I did not
! have time."
! He paused and looked at his chief,
-half hesitating, marveling that the way
had so miraculously opened for him
| to keep silence a little longer on tho
subject of his marriage. Perhaps the
l chief need never be told that the mar
riage ceremony took place on the day
of the Holman dinner.
"That is good.” said the chief, smil
ing. ’’You certainly have earned the
rigiit to attend to your own affairs,
i Then wo need not foe! so had at Stav
ing to send you back. Can you go on
the afternoon train? Good! Then let us
; hoar your account of your trip briefly,
' to see if there are any points we didn’t
j notice yesterday. Hut first just stop
i here a moment. 1 have something to
[show you.”
He flung open the door to the next
office.
“You knew that Ferry had loft the
! department on account of his ill
[ health? I have taken the liberty of
(having your things moved in here,
i This will hcreaftc*' be your headquar
ters. and you will be next to me in the
[department.” "
Gordon turned in amazement and
[gazed at the kindly old face. Pro
motion he had hoped for. but
such promotion, right over the heads of
his elders and superiors, he had never
dreamed of receiving. He could have
taken the chief in his arms.
"Pooh! pooh!” said the chief. “You
deserve it, you deserve it!” when Gor
don tried to blunder out some words of
appreciation. Then, as if to cap the
climax, he added;
“And, by the way, you know some one
has got to run across the water to look
after that Stanhope matter. That will
fall to yo. I’m afraid. Sorry to keep
you trotting around the globe, but per
haps you’ll like to make a little vaca
tion of it. The department’ll give you
some time if you want it. Oh, don't
thank me! It's simply the reward of
doing your duty, to have more duties
given you, and higher ones. You have
done well, young man. I have here all
the papers in the Stanhope case, and
t'uil directions written out, and then if
you can plan for it you needir’t return,
unless it suits your pleasure. You un
derstand the matter as fully as I do al
ready. And now for business. Let’s
hurry through. There are one or two
little matters who must talk over and
I know you will want to hurry back
and get ready for your journey.” And
so after all the account of Gordon’s
extraordinary escape and eventful jour
ney home became by reason of its hasty
repetition a most prosaic story com
posed of the bare facts and not all of
those.
At parting me cmei pressed ooraon a
hand with heartiness and ushered him
out into the hall, with the same
brusque manner he used to close all
business interviews, and Gordon found
himself hurrying through the familiar
halls in a daze of happiness, the secret
of his unexpected marriage still his
own—and hers.
Celia teas watching at the window
when his key clicked in the lock and ho
let himself into the apartment his face
alight with the joy of meeting her again
after the brief absence. She turned in
a quiver of pleasure at his coming.
"Well, get ready,” he said joyfully.
“We are ordered off to New York on
the afternoon train, with a wedding trip
to Europe into the bargain; and I'm
promoted to the next place to the chief.
What do you think of that for a morn
ing's surprise?”
He tossed up his hat like a boy, came
over to where she stood, and stooping
laid reverent lips upon her brow and
eyes.
“Oh, beautiful! lovely!" cried Celia,
ecstatically, “come sit down on the
couch and tell me about it. We can
work faster afterward if wq get it off
our minds. Was your chief very much
shocked that you were married with
out his permission or knowledge?"
“Why, that was the best of all. I
didn’t have to tell him I was married.
And he is not to know until just as I
sail. He need never know how it all
happened. It isn’t his business and it
would be hard to explain. No one need
ever know except your mother and
brother unless you wish them to, dear.”
“Oh, I am so glad and relieved,” said
Celia, delightedly. “I’ve been worrying
about that a little—what people would
think of us—for of course we couldn’t
possibly explain it all out as it is to us.
They would always be watching us to
see if we really cared for each other:
and suspecting that we didn’t, and it
would be horrid. I think it is our own
precious secret, and nobody but mam
ma and Jeff have a right to know, don't
you ?’’
“I certainly do, and I was casting
about in my mind as I went into the
office how I could manage not to tell
the qhief, when what did he do but
spring a proposition on me to go at
once to New York and identify those
men. He apologized tremendously for
.having to send me right back again,
but said it was necessary. 1 told him
it just suited me for I had affairs of my
own that I had not had time to attend
to when I was there, nnd would be glad
to go back and see to them. That let
me out on the wedding question for it
would be only necessary to tell him I
was married when I got back. lie
would never ask when.”
“But the announcements,” said Celia
catching her breath laughingly, ”1
never thought of that. We’ll just have
to have some kind of announcements
or my friends will not understand about
my new name; and we ll have to send
him one, won’t we?’’_
(Continued next week.)
The manufa.cture of toys for British
children is to be encouraged as a Ca
nadian industry. A collection of the
toys most in demand in England will
be sent to Canada as samples.
A German manufacturer can com
mand the services of a highly efficient
and experienced chemist, one who has
perhaps taught chemistry for years In
: a technical school, at a salary’ of
a year.
END STOMACH TROUBLE,
GASES OR DYSPEPSIA ^
"Pape's Diapepsin” makes Sick, Sour,
j Gassy Stomachs surely feel fine
in five minutes.
■-- - 11 11
If what you just ate is souring on
your stomach or lies like a lump of
lead, refusing to digest, or* you bglch
1 gas and eructate sour, undigested "
food, or have a feeling of dizziness,
heartburn, fullness, nausea, bad taste
in mouth and stomach-headache, you
• can get blessed relief in live minutes.
Put an end to stomach trouble forever
I by getting a large fifty-cent case of
: Pape’s Diapepsin from any drug store.
! You realize in five minutes how need
; less it is to suffer from indigestion,
( dyspepsia or any stomach disorder.
1 It’s the quickest, surest stomach doc
j tor in the world. It's wonderful.—Adr
IMPORTANT MATTER OF LIGHT
I -
: Excellent Reasons Why It Should Al
ways Fall From the Left Side of
Writer or Worker.
The well-known fact that, when
j using the eyes for any near work, the
j Illumination should come from the left
| Side rather than (he rigid, is often dis
regarded.
Let anyone who considers the matter
■>f little importance once demonstrate
| to himself the difference and he will
i never forget it. Take it pencil and pa
! per and try to write while in such a
| position that the light will fall from
j the right side.
The shadow of the band or pencil
or both is thrown on the paper in such
a way as partly to cover the characters
one is making. This necessitates a
closer viewpoint and a conscious strain
on the eyes. Now let the position of "the
writer lie reversed so that the light
falls from the left side.
He will notice that the shadows fall
away from the work be is doing, and
leave the field tmobscurerl. In making
the change he cannot help but notice
the feeling of ease tlial immediately is
experienced by the eyes.
This applies to any other kind of
near work in which the lingers act un
der the guidance of the eyes. This fact
should be remembered in planning
schoolrooms, workrooms, offices and
any places whore steady, close work is
to be performed.
FOR ITCHING, BURNING SKINS
Bathe With Cuticura Soap and Apply
the Ointment—Trial Free. i
For eczemas, rashes, ltehings, irrita- '•
tions, pimples, dandruff, sore hands,
and baby humors, Cuticura Soap and
Ointment are supremely effective. Be
sides they tend to prevent these dis
tressing conditions, if used for every
day toilet and nursery preparations.
Free sample each by mail with Book,
Address postcard, Cuticura, Dept. L,
Boston. Sold everywhere.—Adv.
Improving Washington.
Nearly every president of '.lie United
States since tlie city of Washington
was laid out lias endeavored in some
way to leave the capital better and
more beautiful tlmu he found it.
President Wilson is no exception, lie
is said to have ambitious plans for the
improvement of the city, and it is be
lieved these will lie carried out-during
his second term. Development of the
Great Falls electric power and the es- ^
tnblishment of a new and magnificent 1
public park are said to be Uiclu-led in
Mr. Wilson’s program. J
No man has any rights that his wife’s
relatives are bound to respect.
A mule by any other name would be
. a chronic kicker. J
re——-—■— ---——“
Thousands Tell if
Why dally along with backache and
kidney or bladder troubles? Thousands
tell you how to find relief, litre's a
case to guide you. And it's only one
of thousands. Forty thousand Ameri
can people are publicly praising Doan’s
Kidney Fills. Surely it is worth the
while of anyone who has a bad back,
who feels tired, nervous and run-down,
who endures distressing urinary disor
ders, to give Doan’s Kidney Fills a trial.
An Iowa Cass
Mrs. O. T. Sumner, "Every Piclare Tells e Story**
221 W. Howard St.,^wi ^
Mason City, Iowa, ft
says: “I suffered ter-$/3?! **>»#
ribly from inflamma-jf/J
lion of the bladder ($■“““■’
and my kidneys weresi^ rJS[\ /•*
congested. My back
ached terribly and
for three months lra>\ My
was confined to bed.frp* f\ ^ /¥i
a« helpless as a j j\ -
child. My doctor said*^/! 1
tlie trouble was in-/'4^Tr*\{ML^?,l
curable. On a friend’s1
advice I used Doan’s tft” IS? j
Kidney Pills and I u ^
was soon able to get up and around.
Continued use rid me of every sign of
the trouble. I gained thirty pounds in *A
weight and my kidneys became nor- ^
mal.” '
Get Dcan’c eit Any Store, SCc a Box
DOAN’S
! FOSTER-MILBURN CO., BUFFALO, N. Y.
TVPUnin \
y as Sl^Sil/ experience has demonstrate*.
the almost miraculous effi
Cacy, and harmlessness, cf Antityphoid Vacclaction.
Be vaccinated NOW by your physiciaD, you and
your family. It is more vital than house insurance.
A3k your physician, druggist, or send for ‘‘Havo
you had Typhoid?” telling of Typhoid Vacchie,
results from use* and danger from Typhoid Carriers.
Producing V&celnes and Serums undor ’J. S. L?cc*we
Th« Cutter Laboratory, Berkeley, Cal., Chicago, Iff.
E2 3 SETS I SIS* CURED in a irv day,
tSWi I "Blr« without pain or a car
gical operation. Ko pay until enrol. Y/rita
UK. (VKAV, SOC 15*« IJIrtr., Umalia. Hi ' Y"
“■BBMiwM'tr'SsaiiaasBiiat |
ra^Wint»KI 1
At old operations. Positive IA ver A SdJraaeh remedy
(■*Vo <Xl)— Itenutto acre; home reoincly.*. Wrlfe uxiny.
0 C*. JDept W-5.219 S.D«ifci*Sl.,aicafe