AN UftRATlflN
RECOMMENDED
Avoided by Taking Lydia E,
Finkham’s Vegetable
Compound
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me. My mother gave
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two babies were
bom for I suffered
with my back and
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I thought I would try Tinkham’s,' as
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right and had no operation. I (irmly
believe ‘PinkhamV cured me. Every
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take medicine occasionally, not but I
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I recommend it to v/omen who speak to
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your Sanative Wash and like it very
much.” — Mrs. E. Gould, 4000 East
Side Boulevard, Los Angeles, Cal.
Many letters have been received from
women who have been restored to
health by Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegeta
ble Compound after operations have
been advised.
Making Up for It
“‘So Kate and Agnes are not speak
ing to each other.”
“Not. to, but about."
S.S.S. keeps away
Pimples
THERE are thousands of women
who wonder why their complex
iims do not improve in spite of all
the face treatments they use. They
should not continue to wonder. Erup
tions come from
blood impurities
of rich
S.S.S.
s acknowledged
to be one of the
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rapid and effec
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builds new blood-cells. This Is why
S. S. S. routs out of your system the
Impurities which cause boils, pim
ples, blackheads, acne, blotches, ec
zema, tetter, rash. S. S. S. is a re
markable flesh-builder. That’s why
underweight people can quickly build
up their lost flesh, get back their
normal weight, pink, plump checks,
bright eyes, and “pep.”
S. S. S. is sold st all mod drug
Stores in two sixes. The larger also
is more economical.
<^he World's Best
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IT BE ATS ALL
How Those Old, Creaky,
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It oils up and limbers up the joints,
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Always remember, when Joint-Ease
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Cuticura Talcum
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For Baby’s Sfczi
Little Reviews by Our
Readers
Can you sum up a book in 100
words? Try It on the 'rook you
have just finished reading un«3 send
In your review to The Little Review
Department of The Sioux C'ty Trib
une. The Hook and Gift Shcp, Sioux
City, la., will give a prize, the win
ner’s choice’ of any $2 book in their
shop to the one writing the cleverest
review. This is a weekly feature of
our Saturday Book Colurr. n, so
watch for your review next week If
it doesn't get In In time for this
week.
The prize winner for ‘his weyk bi
Nina R. Craw, of £j.*.rf>orn, la, WJ
haven’t read ?(r. Burt’s story but
this Is surely a splendid summ«\ry
ol (he swialleii ‘‘society” novel.
Write to the Book and Gift Shop,
Misj Craw, and claim your prlzw,"
And after you get it, review *t fey
us. Wo want to see yoften La
print.
The Interpreter’s House
By Struthers Burt
The hero of this rather wordy
story, Gulian Eyre, returns to hlx
New York home after a numbsr ci
years in foreign parts, only to find
himself a misfit in the business and
social life of his earlier year*.
Something of a cynic, x wouldb*
philosopher, aim0.0j human at tin;**
—usually when thcVe are ladies at
dinner—he worries i'yis verbose way
through an affair of tho heart W'itta
the alluring, unscrupulous Vida, al
ready married, to eventually find
his long-delayed happiness With a
young thing who calls him names—
and I don’t blame her!
A Near Winner
Miss Agnes Kavvleigh at Slona
City sends in the following lpl-aftest
teg review of one of Thomas Dixon's
hooks. Again we confess lgn.oranc%
we’ve never read this book either,
but judging from her review It Ui
one peculiarly apropos right now.
The Black Hood
By Thomas Dixon
Some of cur present day political
Intriguing, romantically and histor
ically set In Carolina, following the
Reconstruction- period. Is vividly
portrayed in a local organization
Intended to meet an Immediate V*«*d,
ita original membership and high
Ideals that were soon lost in a pr»
tense of righteousness, blgot'ry and
hatred, entirely Ignoring, even burn
ing the Constitution, but ending la
disorder, lawlessness and riot.
Th« author’s conclusion is summed
up In the two outstanding expres
sions:
“One NEVER needs disguise to d*
good.”
“There Is only room for ONE uni
form in this country.”
Rev. Mr. Snyder, even in the short
life of this hook page, we value q«
a friend and ally. Among many
good ones, it la hard to chodso tho
best, hut I personally enjoyed this
charmingly written summary of a
rather light weight hook.
W. j. I.ocke h:ia written a rattling
good adventure tale and love story
In "The Coming of Amos.” Amos Is
a freak, but a lovable* one. The
Princess—well, we can’t blame the
middle aged artist v.-ho tells the
story for loving her. And the vil
lain is a real one. You are glad
that the window is open when ho
and Amos finally get together. And
you are glad that Amos, as ho
moves through his tortuous course
of religtgus evolution, finally aban
dons celibacy for the Little Princess.
Another Lie Nailed. *
From the Los Angeles Times.
Now one of the professors at Bel
-<t tells u.< that most of this talk
about caveman methods la poppy
cock. The old idea was that In pre
historic times the hardy native did
his courting with a club. When he
wanted a woman he knocked her on
the bean with a massive mallet and
carried her off like a sack of cats.
But this Wisconsin educate? says_
that this is fiction. Ho has been
reading the tablets and otherwise
delving in the past and he says that
tho earliest lovers were not harsh.
They strung beads for their sweet
hearts. They made holes in quaint
pieces of wood and threaded them on
thongs. Likewise they made strange
Bounds that served as music. They
did not play the ukulele or carry
chocolate creams, hut their methods
were not vastly different from those
of our twentieth-century Lotharios.
The pioneer lover did not attempt to
Impress his sweetie with a granite
adze. Instead lie brought her violets
from the wildwood and he sat In front
of her cave stringing funny things
on a strand of gut- He even raised
hla voice in song. The love which
makes the world go ’round has been
much the same for all ages and with
all peoples.
Banks Like Individuals.
P.DSi the Nebraska Democrat.
T/e. aro told that the bank failures
now growtng so common In Iowa,
Illinois and some other parts of the
land, east ol us, ts due to the War
Finance Corporation deflating quite
rapidly—withdrawing $493,000,000 of
the $000,000,000 they havq been hav
ing at their command. This demon
strates that even the banks aro much
like people. When the imperative
call for cash comes, and they have
not tfot It, they don't pay it. When a
similar deflation struck Nebraska
when the Federal Reserve deflation
was holding the place In the lime
light, the Nebraska state guarantee
law was the salvation of many a
bank and business in this stale. Iowa
is not so blessed.
Quicker the Better.
From the University of Iowa Frivol.
A clergyman received the follow
ing notice regarding a marriage that
was to take place:
"This Is to glvo you notis that I
and Miss Jemima Brealy is com’ to
your church on Saturday afternoon
r.axt to undergo the operation af
matrimony at your hands. Please be
prompt, as the taxi Is hired by the
hour."
. - --1 -
The Persian parliament has sanction
ed the kill exen\l'ttng from customs
duties for a decade agricultural and
technical machinery and aeces-sories.
An exception Is made in the bill with
regard to machines for sewing, em
broidering, printing and engraving.
BREEME HOUSE
| By j£p.therine Newlin Burt |
He looked blankly enough at
the “Lady .Jane’’. The picture
hung on the eastern wall facing
the sunset. To the color of the
painting, time or skill had gh'cn
a strange silvery brightness. The
figure was of a young girl lean
ing against an urn, her ringlets
classically bound, a scarf float- j
ing about her shoulders, her
slim, round body simply draped.
Thy light, dappling through the
trees above her, changed to sil
ver on her skirt, her curls were
of an ashen brown, her grey
brown eyes were sidelong in
their glance, her smile seemed
tremulous. It was a cool, soft,
shining figure, beautiful as
showers and shadows.
“Who is it?’’ demanded
Claire, with ringing impatience
of his silence.
“It’s a great-great-or-so-grand
mother of mine, I be-•”
“Nonsense! I know that, of
course. But don't you see the
likeness? Look hard. Use your
eyes. Bee it for the first time.
Make a frame for her face with
your two hands, so!’’
Alee obeyed. No sooner had
his long hands shut out the ring
lets and the scarf, then he gave
a little jump of surprise.
“Jane!” said he. “That’s
queer enough.”
“Did you ever see anything
po striking? It’s just Jane’s face,
line by line, and Jane’s figure,
too; only Jane’s thinner. The
coloring is exactly hers. The
costume disguises it, and the
pos? and the way the hair is
done. To me this is the most
thrilling thing imaginable.”
“Why?” he asked, looking
vvonderingly at her.
“To see a face handed down,
feature by feature, like that,
through eight, ten—how many
generations? To think that Jane
is an embodiment—a reinearna
! tion of that lady dead so long
ago? To know that your great
I great-areat-or-so-grand-raother is
| actually living her life again in
her own flesh and blood, goes
laughing about her old home,
running up and down those
stairs, looking down over the
gallery at her own pictured
self-”
“Oh, I say, you know!” grinn
ed Alee, “don't make a ghost of
poor little Jane, That’s hardly
fair!”
“A ghost! A ghost, indeed!
Nothing so banal as that! Cj n
you stand there, you, and not
see the enchantment of all this?’
—she swung round her arm to
Indicate the hall. “To you it’s
just homo, I suppose. What op
portunities are wasted in this
world! If 1 were Jane! If I were
you! ’ ’
“That’s rather rot, isn’t it?"
said he. He had found out that
she demanded franla ess rather
than deference. “ItV because
you a en't used.to it. You see
it all from the outside, 't looks
jolly romantic—portraits, and
the old house, and all that. When
you’ve been here a few weeks
you’ll get over it. Jane’s face is
all very well, and happens to be
’ike a lady’s that lived in sixteen
hundred and something; but it
doesn't follow that she’s a rein
carnation. Hope she isn't, at any
rate! That would be rather a
shame, ydu see.”
“Why would it he a shame?"
asked Ci.nre thoughtfully. She
stood now a little distance off,
half turned from him, looking up
at the ancestress.
“Because the lads wasn't
especially enviable. She had
rather a tliiu time of it, and died ,
young.”
“How do you mean— a tlun
time of it’?” demanded Claire
over her shoulder. “Do tell me
the story, and toll it nicely. Not
a lot of slang, and trying to make
nothing of it all. 1 do hate
cynicism! I can’t see why s>
many boys nowadays try to sneer
the beauty out of everything.’
Tremont smiled a little. At
twenty-six, rather an experienced,
twenty-six, he did not consider
himself “a bov’’. He wondered
how old Miss Wilton might be.
Not more than twenty-three
surely. She was a high-handed
creature, to be sure, needed a
tight rain, and had probab]}
never had it. She had told him
that her mother had died when
she was born, her father a year
or bo ago, and that her guardian*
lure re just “ abstractions’*. "Wha-r
5 I
a life she must have had of it-—
money to burn, no doubt, and
tht whole world at her feet! And
she w'as silly enough to envy
Jane and him ! His voice sounded
dull and lifeless, after Claire’s
She looked at him curiously,
struck for the first time by some
thing in him that was neither
flippancy nor sullenness.
“She was Lady Jane Ross of
Ross House, in the north”, said
Tremont, “and she Jived in the
time of the Civil wars, Round
heads and Cavaliers. The Ross’s
were king’s men, so were the
Breemes. The Earl of Breeme
then was Rufus. His picture
isn’t in the hall, for reasons. Of
course, not being here, he is al
ways reported to be the hand
somest earl of the whole line—
I almost said of the whole lot;
wotild that have been slang? He
met her at a London fete of some
sort, and when she was retired
to her estate, he came riding
thither one April day, the story
goes, to ask her hand of Lord
Ross. Of course, she knew what
he was coming tor, and, being
smitten with shyness, ran into
the garden. He saw, and follow
ed her under the trees, where he
wooed and won her. She prob
ably looked very much as she
does in the picture, standing at
bay, and shaking all over, as
Jane does nowadays when she
goes in to meet strangers, poor
child! Shortly after the bethrth
al it came out that Rufus had
been secretly involved on Crom
well’s side, against the king. The
betrothal was broken, and, when
King Charles came into his own,
the earl fled overseas, his estates
and title were bestowed, with
his bride, upon the second
brother, Humphrey. He hangs
beside her there.”
Claire just glanced at the long
faced gentleman with his curls
and idle fingers.
“.What a shame!” she cried.
“Jane should have followed Ru
fus into exile.”
“Nyver say that!” protested
Alec in mock horror. “The
Breemes were loyal men. They
wiped the name of the traitor off
their scroll. I am a direct descen
dant of the younger son, you see.
Rufus was never heard of
again.”
“But Jane? Was she happy?”
“They say that she was never
happy; that she pined, and died
very young, a few years after
Sir Anthony painted this portrait
of her. The story goes that she
died with Rufus’s name on her
lips, catling to him to carry her
away with him over the seas. Bui
that’s all legend, of course.
Robin always makes a very pret
ty story of it when he takes the
tourists over the place. Robins’s
a character. You know Robins,
of course?”
“Oh, yes; very well indeed!”
nodded Claire. “He’s a dear old
soul. He fits in here so well.
They must have built him when
Ihey built the Hall. It’s all so
restful. “This”—with one of her
possessive looks about the- room
—“this is my first real holiday
from living.”
“Mercy on us! Not exactly
complimentary that. Holiday
from living sounds—”
“ Yes. It sounds as though 1
were having a dull time. But
I’m not. I’m having the
splendidest time I’ve ever had.
You see, as I told you, once. I’m
rather unusually unfortunate.
I've no background—no home,
no house, no family; I’m always
in other people's houses t>r- in
hotels. Now in a way, just be
cause this is so old, it’s more my
house than any newer place
would be. Do you understand i
”1 think so,” he answered ab
sently, bis mind busy with the
nv./nory of Aline’s cold sugges
tion.
“No. I don’t belive you do
understand. But it doesn’t mat
ter. You’re only part of the
, scenery to me. I don't want any
i of you to understate 1 me. That
doesn’t count. 1 want to do the
understanding._ Of course, to
amuse myself, I play At being
one of you—”
A deep flush colored Alce’s
face. Claire^stopped short and
looked at him.
‘ AYhat arc you blushing for?’
said she.
Alee laughed, and the flush
increased. Claire puzzled over
hiir a moment before giving \l
up.
‘‘I suppose you won’t tell me,”
she aighed. ‘‘It must have been
something I said. I shall go up
to dreo3. Thank you for the
atory. You told it very well,
though without much feeling.
Poor little Lady Jane! I wish
Rusus had come back to carry
her away.”
Tremont followed her to the
foot of the staircase and watched
her mount it. From the gallery
she looked down at him.
”Jf '-ou don’t tell me why you
were blushing,” said she, ‘‘I
shall begin to guess; and I’m a
wonder at guessing.”
The flush came back fourfold
as he ■ taminered :
“You c-couldn’t p-possibly.
B-besidis, I wasn’t!”
Her laugh rang out through
the dimness of the hall. Then
the re 1-gold head disappeared.
The hr- ly Jane was left, in silvery
possession. Tremont turned and
looked moodily up into her face.
CHAPTER VII
BRITOMART TO THE RESCUE
The Miss Meriden with the cur
ly bang came promptly to pay
her re: peets to the American
guest at Breeme House. They
were s'tting out on the terrace.
Below, under the trees, Aline
Parkes was playing with the
children.
“All ie is a dear, don’t yrm
think?” questioned Miss Meri
den.
“I V ink she is a most inter
esting girl, though I’ve hardly
talked to her yet. She doesn’t
like me.”
“Not really? Are yon sure
you’re right, Miss Wilton! She
has said nice things about ^vou—
really.”
“Has she? I wish I could see
more of her. But she’s very
busy with the children.”
“Oh, yes, she is. She’s rather
old for her age, don’t you think?
She has had so much trouble and
respon.s iblity; she has been so
very pmr. When dear Mr.
Parkes died, the five children
were actually destitute. The
oldest boy, younger than Aline,
was given a position in some
London house. They are all
separat _*d. Two little girls have
gone to a cousin; and another,
of about sixteen, is teaching, in
poor little thing. We all hoped
Aline would marry Sir Geoffrey
Brooke. You know in the red
house over beyond Five Pas
tures. You’ve probably met
him! No? You will soon; he’s
over here often. He is in love
with A.line, we all believe. But
it doesn’t seem to come to any
thing. lie is such a splendid fel
low; rot so handsome as Lord
Tremont, perhaps, and much old
er, but—”
“Is Lord Tremont in love with
her?” asked Claire.
Miss Meriden opened her
round blue yes, while a deep
crimson dyed her face.
“Oh, mercy no! What an idea!
1 hope I didn’t give you thar. im
pression. Oh, no, of course not!
Rather not!”
Claire was a little taken aback
by this very emphatic denial.
Presently other visitors gather
ed on the terrace. Amongst them
was Sir Geoffrey Brooke, him
seif. There was such kindly hu
mor in his eyes, and ?uch quiet
confidence in his frientiy man
ner that Claire liked hm at ance.
He suggested tennis. “You
Americans are real scientists at
’he game, Miss VAUun. lake
me on as your pa".ncr. do! I’m
a had loser, you see. You and
1 against Tremon: and Miss
Merid >n, what?”
Cla’re was a poor player, but
her partner’s good humor never
flagged. He took her halls for
her and perseveringly apologized
for taking them, lie won every
point that was won on their side
all throngn the set. and tried to
make out that every miss of hers
was entirely owing to his own
clumsiness. When it was over,
lie gravely congratulated her on
her play; he, of course, had lost
the seti
She shook her head at him.
“You’re very sarcastic. I am
going to provide you with a bet
ter portlier for the next set.”
“Oh you Americans,” lie pro
tested, “is there no enjoyment
for you unless you win. Don t
\ on ever play, just for the
pleasure of the garnet”
llis complaint was in vain.
“Don’t start the next set for
a few minutes, will you. \our
next partneV will be here almost
directly.”
As she ran off across the lawn
to the house, his steady eyes fol
lowed her with warm admira
tion.
“Dy Jove,” he said to himself,
“there’s a woman for you!”
He joined Tremout and Miss
Meriden, who filled up tJie pause
with her questioning chatter.
Presently Brooke called out:
“Why, here comes Aline; with
her racket too! Well isn’t that
ripping of Miss Wilton? 1’U bet
she went and routed her out of
the nursery to make her play.
Now we shall have some tennis,
what?”
“Miss Wilton,” said Aline, ns
she came up to them with her
faintly ironical smile, “has turn*
ed me out of my job. She’s In
sisted on being governess for a
change. It’s tennis, isn’t it?
Who’s playing? Who wants
me?”
“I want you. You’re playing
with me,” said Brooke promptly.
“Miss Wilton lias ordered it;
ours but to do or die. Come
along.”
She glanced for an instant at
Alec as she moved to the desig
nated court, but Tremont's eyes
studiously avoided her. iTe was
handing the balls to Miss Meri
den for her service.
Aliao played a magnificent
game. She was as swift as an
arrow, and her face brightened
with the exercise.
After a couple of lively sets,
Miss Meriden took her leave,
Alec escorting her to Lady
Breemo.
Aline and Brooke were left to
gether. A sort of comfortable
silence fell upon them. Aline
moved to the shadow of a tree
and sat down on the grass, lie
stood abotfe her, fastening his
cuffs.
“How goes it?” he asked her
pleasantly.
Aline gave him one of her
most twisted smiles.
“Oh, it goes as nursery
governessing usually goes. I
praise and punish and play the
part of a supposedly infallible
Providence to Vi and Humphrey.
They don’t seem to have found
me out yet, though lately”-—hero
she turned sideways, propped
her chin in her hand, and bent
her face down—“like everyone
else, they’ve began to transfer
their allegiance to Miss "VVilton.”
He sat down beside her, and
made a deliberate selecton from
the long grasses.
“Like everyone else?” he
questioned.
“Remember, I’m joking. You
must learn not to take me seri
ously, Sir Geoffrey.”
Sir Geoffrey looked gravely at
her. He knew Aline very well,
better than anyone else knew
her.
“Take off your motley for a
bit, Aline,” said he, drawing a
knife from his pocket, “and
have a game of mumoly-peg.”
Aline sat up with a laugh.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
FRANCEPLANS
SEA STRENGTH
Rebirth As First Class Naval
Power Will Soon Be Ac
complished Fact
Paris.—The rebirth of France as a
first-class naval power will soon ba
an accomplished fact.
Greater activity now prevails in
the dockyards and arsenals of the
republic than at any time in the last
20 years.
Na. i.ve troops from north and west
Africa have come to represent a
heavy prv Portion of the French army
i war strength. The whole scheme of
mobilization is based on the assump
tion that these colored levies will be
a 'ailable. for service at the front,
whenever au emergency threatens.
Put being stationed in Africa they
must, of necessity, be brought to
France by sea, and unless the water
routes remained open the transports
could not sail.
A further attesting fact is that the
shipbuilding program adopted under
the Poincare regime ha/ beer, not
only endorsed, but amplified by the
llcrriot government. For the first
time in many years a systematic and
progressive plan of naval construc
tion is being adhered to..
Batons Hope to Call
India on Phone Soon •
London.—A few months ago it was
considered an ambitious undertaking —.
when plans were announced for a
telephone service between London
and Berlin, a distance of 000 miles.
Now, however, British post office en
gineers are giving serious considera
tion to the practicability of con
structing ney lines and linking up
existing facilities with a view tc en
abling conversations to be held be»\
tween London and cities in India. * A
In some quarters it is stated *p
tlmisticaly that London and Karn
goon might be connected by phone.
This distance is no greater than
that covered by the circuit in
volved in the Havana-Los Angeles
wire. It !s from the perfecting of
the instrument known as the ‘Te
Ipeater' 'that long-distance telephony
foi Europe is hoped to be developed
Into a commercial success.
