PATTERNS OF,
WOLFPEN
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CHAPTER XII—Continued
—15—
“But to shoot a cardinal—it's sin
ful, Doug.”
“Not w hen they riddle my seeds.”
“But, Doug! You don’t kill car
dinals Just because . . She looked
at him. Words were useless unless
their meanings were already sensed
before they were spoken, and here
they were not and could never be.
"Do you want to let them eat -p
my seeds I w ant for next year?” he
exclaimed.
She turned the mare slowly back
Into the way she had come, moving
down the hollow again toward the
road. Doug followed along close
behind her, confused and perplexed.
“I guess you'll be going away right
soon now,” he said at last.
“Yes. On Monday. Daddy Is rid
ing over with me.”
“What’s the use of your going off
over there, Cynthia? You don't have
no need for that kind of book learn
ing."
“But I do, too.”
“You’re just going over there be
cause of that surveyor, and you
know It’’
“Why, I’m not, either; I’ve been
counting on going there all year and
a right smart before any of those
men came to the creek "
“I saw you looking at him.”
“That doesn’t make any differ
ence in it.”
“You swear it?"
“I told you once when you were
up to our house.”
“You swear it then?"
“I don’t feel any call to give ac
count to you, Doug.” It was sharper
then he had ever heard her speak.
Instead of advancing his rising tem
per, it halted it.
“I calculate I ought to get about
& thousand dollars for my 'serig.
I’m going to dig it soon now."
I “That'll be nice and I’m right
glad,” she said. “I have to go back
now. I just stopped to say good-by.”
“Cynthia. Don’t go o!T over there.
Let’s . . . why can’t we . . . let's us
merry."
Cynthia scringed, seeing birds
tumbling through the still air into
death.
“I’m getting things in good shape
now and I been thinking about you
while I was doing it. Will you?”
"It’s not time for me to think
about that. Doug."
“When you get bark, then?”
“We can see about it then. It's
just not time yet and I hadn’t
thought to marry.”
“You won’t feel too stuck up aft
er you've been over there?"
“Doug Mason, sometimes I get so
mad at you I could die. You know
better than that.”
“It’s just that . . . you know . . ,
sometimes it’s right lonesome and
I get to thinking about you going
off to people not just like us, and
, . . You won’t change your mind
about going?"
“Why, no. Doug. I’ve been plan
ning on tiiis all year.”
She got easily into the saddle.
“Good-by, Doug."
“Good-by, Cynthia.”
Cynthia booted the mare with her
heel and hurried from Sarah and
Doug, the birds and the fallen trees,
back to Wolfpen through the ruins
of the visit she had planned.
The final days were busy ones
for Cynthia, hut without visible evi
dence of her inward excitement at
the thought of being away from
home. Julia was always near her
with kind words and suggestions
for the packing.
Then three days before the time
for Cynthia to leave, Abrnl came
home early from the camp looking
pale and weak, but declaring he was
all right.
He ate little for supper, leaving
the table before the others to lie in
the cool on the porch. Sparrel went
out to him.
“What’s the trouble with you,
son?’’
“I guess I just got m.v stomach
riled a little at the camp ”
“When did It begin to hurt?’’
“It’s felt funny for a day or so.”
Sparrel gave him some of his rem
edies and after a while Abral went
to bed. He lay there for two days
very sick and refusing food.
Then Julia, who had looked tired
for many weeks and had been up
and down for two nights with Abral,
fell sick in the third night and had
to lie in her bed very pale and with
out strength.
On Monday at the hour set for
half a year for Cynthia to ride away
from Wolfpen, she sat by Julia und
was startled to see how large her
eyes were under the pale skin of
her forehead and how weak she had
grown from her sickness.
“You must go, dear, as we
planned. I’ll be all right now,” she
said In a low voice. “I’ve never
been sick to amount to anything.”
But Cynthia sat by her tied, say
ing, “Abral's some better. T wouldn’t
go off today and you sick. A few
days won't make a sight of differ
ence." Thinking: ‘‘I wonder how
sick she Is and why it came on so
sudden right now. It must be the
spread over the place of the sick
ness In the trees or it wouldn't be
gin down there in Dry Creek and
fasten on A bra I and come on up
here."
She left Julia In a weak sleep,
the long fingers of one hand lying
delicately along the sheet. She found
Jesse by the drying kiln spreading
apples in the sun.
"How Is she?" Jesse asked, whis
pering it.
“Asleep now.”
"She didn't sleep any last night."
“No. She looks pretty sick, Jesse.”
"Yes, she’s kind of worn out. I
reckon you're not going this morn
ing."
"I reckon not.”
"Sorry?”
“Some, maybe, and because Moth
er is sick.” When do you aim to
go—?”
"In about two weeks now. I cal
culate to get my share of the stuff
in.”
She felt suddenly unhappy Inside
and depression squeezed at her spir
it. There were so many things she
had wanted to talk about so she
could carry them into the day bright
with the sunshine and Jesse’s un
derstanding.
And there was Reuben far away
in some distant county, and the un
certainty of Julia's sudden illness,
and confusion everywhere to be at
tacked. ordered and subdued. But
she could not get It out between
them at the kiln.
"I'm sorry you can’t go today,
Cynthia. May be It won’t be long.
Don’t you get sick.”
It was unexpected and clothed
In a depth of genuine feeling which
warmed the coldness she had felt
creeping over her. She might even
yet say the things in her heart. But
he was going on now. She watched
him away and then went back into
the yard. "There’s a sight of things
to do without thinking about your
self, Cynthia Pattern, and making
out to yourself that you’re wanting
somebody to sympathize with you.”
It was in the second week of
September that Julia Pattern died.
She lay in the room which Sparrel
had built for her when he brought
her as a bride to Wolfpen. She lay
on the sheets which she had made
with her own hands by the fireplace
as the children grew through the
winters, on the bed where three
generations of Pattern women bad
lain before her.
Sparrel was broken. Fie sat by
Julia’s side on the chair he had
made for her when they were young.
He spoke no word and no tear fell.
The boys in stunned and complete
silence wandered out between the
house and the barn.
Cynthia was deathstruck. For the
first time she was seeing death iu
vade her own family. She had never
thought of her mother as a part
of the mutabilities. She was as per
manent and timeless as Wolfpen.
There could be no Wolfpen. no Pat
tern household without Julia’s gen
tle words and silent competence In
all things.
Desolate, feeling so little and Im
potent before the assertion of such
invisible strength, she turned from
the bed to the window and looked
up to the Pinnacle gleaming golden
in the sun. She was surprised that
the world continued as though noth
ing had happened, that the Pinnacle
could take the sun and look over
a bright land when her own heart
was dark with grief and her world
black with desolution. It was pain
ful to. hear the chickens clucking in
the yard, to observe the common
activities of life, seething about the
house quite uninterrupted by thP
heaviness of deat.i in its midst.
There was Julia's garden, not to he
thought of without Julia. The holly
hocks had had their proud days of
color and now they were dry and
brown: but they were bursting with
seed. The larkspu" had faded, the
cosmos were falling to seed because
there was no one to pinch them
back. The tomato vines were turn
ing brown and sprawling on the
ground unable to bear the heavy
red load. The beans were growing
yellow and dry, the cabbage was
bursting. It seemed to Cynthia,
looking into the familiar plot
through eyes heavy with grief, that
the garden and the still rooms of
the house knew that Julia was dead.
The news went up to the hol
lows, over the hills and down the
creeks with mysterious speed. The
people came to Wolfpen; the old
families on Gannon, the folk from
the Uig Sandy The Castle boys
made and polished a casket lor her
at Sparrel’s shop, using the knotted
boards Sparrel had sawed from a
fragrant cedar.
Amos Barnes came to conduct
the funeral. There were so many
people that the service was held
under and around the tan-bark shed
where there was room for every one.
She looked very beautiful in the
brown cloth dress she had woven
with her own hands. They carried
her slowly through the yard and up
th' path to the Cranesnest Shelf,
the people following. They laid
her beside Grandmother Adah,
Tivls’s wife. Just as the great
shadow of the Binnacle reached the
stone by Saul’s grave. They left
her there in the silence and the
peace. The people went away. The
dark came again, the autumn dew
dripped like rain in the orchard
leaves, the fog settled in and shift
ed eerily about erasing the stars.
Cynthia, in collapse, on her bed:
"I ought to feel. But I can’t any
more. 1 am not me. The weight
pushes me down. I don’t know how
to think about it, and it hurts to
feel”
CHAPTER XIII
IN T11E weeks that followed, the
spiritual disruption in this house
seemed complete. No one spoke of
Julia in words; each one suffered
in private his own particular degree
and quality of grief. They fell to
the accumulated work, easing their
sorrow in excess of toll.
The plans Cynthia and Julia had
made for the Institute now seemed
as remote as though they belonged
with other people. This was her
place, where Julia had always been,
directing the house for Sparrel.
Gradually the deadness grew cus
tomary as the days lengthened Into
a new routine. The work of the
full harvest filled up and spilled
over the days Into both ends of the
night. Cynthia did all the wom
an's part with some aid from the
boys. She and Jesse gathered the
late beans from the garden. She
pickled them In the brown earthen
jars In the cellar, giving painstak
ing care to preserve the flavor
which Julia developed in them. The
sweet potatoes were carefully dug,
put Into open slatted crates and
stacked In the cellar where they
gave off a good earthen smell. The
Irish potatoes were buried in the
hole by the smoke-house. Sparrel
and the boys made the sorghum
thick and brown and full flavored.
The stone jars were filled with ap
ple and pumpkin butter and tomato
preserves, the great goose-necked
and green-striped squnsh and bur
nished copper-colored pumpkins
were buried in the haymow. Jesse
brought In the dark honey from
the hives and filled the Jars on the
fruit shelf.
Cynthia tried to cook meals like
her mother for her menfolk, and to
order all things with as little
change as possible. She looked after
Shellenberger and spread his two
sheets as a matter of course and
custom. She even had a better lik
ing for him because of the way
he spoke and left unspoken his
shock and his sorrow at the death
of Julia.
"She was a fine woman. I am
very sorry.”
And so September gave way to
October, and the poignant grief
was, by repetition, a little older.
There was even a melancholy beau
ty in the days. The hills turned
riotously from the long summer
green into all the flamboyance of
uutumn, arranging In exotic pat
tern around the hillsides the flame
and-golden-hued maple leaves, the
soft yellow of the poplars, the dull
rich scarlet of the white oaks, the
deep brown of the black oaks, with
a few vivid gum trees screaming
among the dark green pines. Noth
ing was left untouched.
Cynthia found herself in moments
of complete abandon to the display
around her, her heart gone out of
her into the prodigal splashing of
color. Then she would have that
sudden vague awareness of tears
In the heart from which she had es
caped for an Instant and to which
she must return. They came with
the tirst sight of the dark clouds
gathering over the Pinnacle, pre
saging the coming of the cold rains
nnd the violation and the annihila
tion of all the glowing beauty which
supported the hours.
When the first sprinkles shattered
the flaming maple near the smoke
house. she cried, "Oh, rain, leave
the leaves alone! Give them one
more day.” But the rain did not
hear the cry of one lonely girl deep
In the Big Sandy hills. All night
long she could hear the battering
attack of each heavy bullet of rain
tearing through the magic world of
yesterday, and she knew that on
the morrow the sun wrould disclose
their wet and melancholy naked
ness. The summer was gone.
The death of Julia and the press
of work had kept Jesse on at Wolf
pen. Cynthia was not sorry. But
tlie work was nearly done now, and
she knew that he was restless to
go, and was waiting only for the
drovers to come. The news that
they were riding up the creek was
less exciting than formerly. In past
years the drovers, with their talk
of politics and the growth of Mount
Sterling and Maysville, had been an
important link with the outside
world. But this year Gannon Creek
had already seen a steam-engine, a
sawmill, and a lumbering enterprise;
and Reuben Warren and Shellen
berger had been there.
The drovers came up the creek
from house to house performing
the ceremony prescribed by custom.
They were dressed in their tight
trousers, tall boots, broad hats, and
with red handkerchiefs around theli
necks. They went to ^he barnyard
at each place and leaned over the
rails, sizing up the cattle. They
walked In among them to slap the
rumps of the steers and feel their
hide. They told a story or two,
sending their big laughs infectiously
over the group of men gathered
around, and giving a holiday spirit
to the bargaining. Then they made
their final offer, the sale was closed,
and the drovers and the neighbor
men moved on behind the growing
herd to the nest house. Where they
were at meal time, there they nil
ate, taking turns at the table un
der the hospitable urgings of the
womenfolk. And when evening
came, the neighbors returned home
and the drovers spent the night
wherever they happened to be.
At Wolfpen, where they always
managed to stay the night, Sparrel
gave them the use of a fenced mea
dow for their cattle and stalls and
feed for their saddle mules. But
when they talked about buying his
steers, Sparrel said:
"I guess I won't be selling any
this time."
“Why not, Sparrel?"
"I told Shellenberger I'd let him
have all we could spare for his men
this winter."
Then Jesse said, “1 want to sell
mine to you fellers."
Sparrel looked at his son in silent
surprise, but offered no Interfer
ence.
"Well be glad to look at It.
Jesse," they said.
Cynthia watched them go to the
barn-lot where Jesse had driven In
his fat steer. She could see them
out there looking and feeling and
bargaining. Then, after a proper
time, they drove It out of the pen
and down to the meadow with their
herd.
Jesse cnnte bnck to the house
where Cynthia was. She knew from
his look that he was content, and
that it was the pleasure of a man
in the quality of his product and
in seeing others appreciate it, as
well as satisfaction with the price
it brought.
“Did they like your steer?”
“They seemed to. It was a good
beef."
"Did you get what you wanted for
It?”
“Yes. I got thirty-six dollars for
It, and I bet that’s more than Dad’ll
get out of Shellenberger for his."
“Why do you say that, Jesse?”
“Well, he’s been here all year
nearly and nobody’s seen any of his
money yet for anything."
Cynthia thought or the paper on
which she had entered the record
of his board. But she was more
concerned over Jesse's leaving.
“I reckon you’ll be going soon
now, Jesse?”
"I nim to be there on ,Monday
morning for the opening court.”
•‘That’ll be might’ nice. Have
you told Daddy yet?”
“No, not yet. I’ll tell him to
night, maybe.”
"I don’t think he’ll mind, Jesse.”
She knew how It would proceed
after supper. The menfolk sat by
the fire while she cleared away the
dishes. There was more silence
than talk. Then Jasper spoke
about the drovers and the cattle.
Abral talked about the men at the
camp and the plans for the spring
rafts; he was going to float one.
Sparrel said little, staring into the
fire and looking at his sons. And
Jesse twisted his mouth, glanced
at his father, at the fire, at Cynthia,
at Jasper, put his hands Into his
pockets and took them out.
“I guess the fall work’s about
done up now,” Jesse said.
‘‘We’ve done right well with It,”
Sparrel said.
“I reckon I’ll go over to town now
and rend the law with Tandy Mor
gan.” It came with nothing but a
higher pitch and a brittle utterance
to betray the nervous constraint be
hind it.
Sparrel said easily and very gen
tly, ‘‘I allowed you hod a mind to
it. You’ll need some money for
that.” lie took from his pocket the
long leather sack which he car
ried, and held it out to Jesse. "If
you’re going to be a lawyer, be a
good one, son, and be clean about
It. Tbe law can dirty a man.”
"It didn’t dirty Blnckstone or Lin
coln any. I mean to be that kind.
And I don’t need the money,” Jesse
said, handing the purse back to
Sparrel. “I got enough for the win
ter."
Cynthia knew the fervor of his
voice and was moved.
Sparrel had got up from his
chair, and stood looking down at
Jesse. With unaccustomed demon
stration he laid his hand on Jesse’s
shoulder and pushed away the leath
er sack. “Keep it, son. That’s what
I got It for. I’ll Just ride over with
you tomorrow and see you settled,
by your leave.”
In tbe morning they rode down
Wolfpen, Sparrel choosing the Klne
mare for the journey, and Jesse on
his own mule with the small grip
of clothes and the yellow Black
stone firmly strapped to the saddle.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
Halted Sunday Vehicular Traffic
The Increasing use of the horse
and buggy In the United States at
the beginning of the Nineteenth
century apparently hurt church at
tendance, for In Philadelphia, notes
Arthur D. Styles, Montreal, Canada,
in Collier’s Weekly, the church
authorities became so perplexed by
It that they had permission, be
tween 1798 and 1831. to stop all
vehicular traffic on Sundays by
hnnging large chains across the
principal streets.
BRISBANE
THIS WEEK
Old Men Still Useful
Fists and Razor Blades
Youngest Grandfather
Science Works Two Ways
Even in this day of flaming youth,
mature age still has its usefulness.
The average age
of our Supreme
Court justices is
seventy - one
years. Twenty-six
years ago Chief
Justice Hughes
took his seat on
the Supreme
Court bench.
President Taft
rendered public
service by ap
pointing him to
succeed Justice
Brewer.
_ . _ He left the
Arthur llriatiunr , . _ •_
bench to run for
President against Woodrow Wilson,
and would doubtless have been
elected had he not gone to California.
Had he been elected he would have
remained in the United States and
probably would have saved the coun
try ten thousand million dollars that
Woodrow Wilson shoveled out in his
ecstacy of self-approval.
Rioting in London’s ’’Mile End
Road,” in which the faces of men
and women were slashed with razor
blades and one man was thrown
through a shop window, etc., seems
rather "un-English,” to put it mild
ly. Fist fighting has been en
couraged by distinguished English
men, including judges, on the
ground that it is "better than using
knives.”
It is better, doubtless, but what
about the razor blades?
Germany honors Its youngest
grandfather, Herman Jahnke, farm
laborer, thirty-six years old. Mar
ried at seventeen, his eldest
daughter became a mother at seven
teen.
If all you want is children, that
record is satisfactory, although any
mouse family could beat it by 25,000
per cent, and almost any microbe by
a billion per cent.
If good children were desired, it
would fyave been better for Mr.
Jahnke to have h s first child at
36, and his first grandchild at 60
or 70; at least that was Plato’s
opinion.
Justice uses science—the electric
chair, the lethal chamber—to punish
criminals. The criminal uses science
| to carry on his trade. An SOS signal,
■ purporting to come from a yacht
in distress, drew the coast guard
away from the coast of Hawaii,
making it convenient for smugglers
of narcotics to bring in their cargo.
Tear gas, comparatively modern,
was used to empty a New York
theater where there was labor
trouble.
Japan, until recently convinced,
mistakenly, that this country is her
enemy, and for excellent reasons
keeping close watch on Russia and
her anti-Japanese Vladivostok air
plane and submarine base, now
turns suspicious attention on dear
old John Bull.
Britain is supposed to have asked
nine nations to protest against Ja
pan’s demands on China. That
should not worry Japan too much.
The same old John Bull got fifty
one nations to protest Mussolini's
attack on Ethiopia; but, paying no
attention, the able Italian went
ahead swallowing Ethiopia; sending
the little Haile Selassie to live in
Switzerland.
In his villa at San Remo, the
Duke of Borea D’Olmo celebrates
his one hundred and sixth birthday
in excellent health. He has been ac
tive in Italian court circles since
1841, before the beginning of the
United States -Mexican war.
Mussolini tells 200 farmers and
industrialists to prepare for a “de
cisive conflict” that will be neces
sary "to preserve order against an
archy.”
Those that favor the “present
civilization,” he said, will have to
preserve it. “We are at the dawn
of a decisive conflict between the
representatives of order and an
archy.”
Dr. Irving Langmuir, brilliant
Nobel prize winner, announced a
“counterpart of life,” produced
chemically; interesting, probably not
important. Until some professor can
produce “some counterpart of life”
able to think, manufacture tel
escopes, explore the universe and
run for office, man’s domination
will not be threatened. A cigar store
Indian is a “counterpart,” but not
an Indian.
European nations are preparing
to recognize the Spanish rebels
when they take Madrid and set up
a national government
The idea is to take prompt action
and forestall the victorious insur
gents’ giving Spanish territory to
Italy or Germany; the Balearic is
lands to Italy for instance, to use as
naval and air bases, with Ceuta for
Germany. This would upset the bal
ance of power in the western Medit
eranean and disturb old England,
with Egypt and the Suez Canal on
her mind.
t) Kin* Feature* Syndicate, Ina,
WNU Service.
Puttering Around the House—
Time-W asting Work of Putting
Away Things Others Have Used
WHEN a family is orderly,
no one has to do much put
tering about. When the members
are not particular where they put
their things, it becomes the un
desirable duty of some person to
spend much time in just this
very thing, puttering. Hours are
wasted daily in such trivialities
as gathering up n e w s p a pers
spread about, picking up and put
ting away gloves, hats, scissors,
thimbles, pencils, etc. Whatever
it may be that has been in use,
and not put away by the user,
or has been put in the wrong
place, must be placed where it
belongs or the house would re
flect poor housekeeping.
Nondescript Tasks.
The time given to these non
descript jobs should be given by
those who leave the work to
others. Putting things away is
part of the job connected with
using the things, just as much
as getting the things out, is part
of it. The work is regular and
legitimate and only becomes an
annoyance when left for the
wrong person to do.
Left-Over Jobs.
No person wants her time frit
tered away doing the left-over
jobs of others. Nobody enjoys
having a person puttering around,
either. It is distracting to at
tention, and disturbing to the
nerves. From both the angle of
the person who putters about and
those who have to endure the
annoyance of such activity, there
should be some remedy found.
Remedies Suggested.
Mothers can teach their chil
dren to put their playthings away
when through with them. This
is the first step to take. Then
she can instruct the little folk
to put their outside things away
when they come in from out
doors. Children can get into the
habit of orderliness by being
made to realize that what they
don’t do, has to be done by
mother who is very busy and
often too tired to do the extra
tasks. Affection will gain the
day.
Breaking the Habit.
Adults should consider how to
break themselves of the repre
hensible habit of leaving work
It's the Talk of I
the Quilting Bee
Pattern 5591
It’s most certainly the talk of
th<» quilting bee—this quaint Pine
apple pattern! And why wouldn’t
it be? With nearly all the patch
pieces the same width, you can
cut your fabric into strips and
snip off pieces as needed. Easily
made, you start from the center
and sew round and round till the
block is done.
In pattern 5591 you will find
the Block Chart, an illustration
for cutting, sewing and finishing,
together with yardage chart,
diagram of quilt to help arrange
the blocks for single and double
bed size, and a diagram of block
which serves as a guide for plac
ing the patches and suggests con
trasting materials.
To obtain this pattern, send 15
cents in stamps or coins (coins
preferred) to The Sewing Circle
Household Arts Dept., 259 W.
Fourteenth St., New York, N. Y.
Write plainly pattern number,
your name and address.
Law of the Home
I believe that the fewer the laws
in a home the better; but there is
one law which should be as plainly
understood as the shining of the
sun is visible at noonday, and
that is, implicit and instantaneous
obedience from the child to the
parent, not only for the peace of
the home, but for the highest good
of the child.—A. E. Kittredge.
they should do, to be completed
by others. If they really deter
mine to stop this bothersome
fault, they will decrease the
necessity of puttering about by
the person who heartily dislikes
the work, but who, for the sake
of order prefers to do it rather
than have disorder around.
C Bell Syndicate.—WNU Service.
To Alkalize
Acid Indigestion
Away Fast
People Everywhere Are Adopting
This Remarkable"Phillips" Way
The way to gain almost incredibly
quick relief, from stomach condition
arising from overacidity, is to alka
lize tne stomach quickly with Phil
lips’ Milk of Magnesia.
You take cither two teaspoons of
the liquid Phillips’ after meals; or
two Phillips’ Milk of Magnesia Tab
lets. Almost instantly "acid indiges
tion" goes, gas from hyperacidity,
"acid-headaches”—from over-in
dulgence in food or smoking — and
nausea are relieved. You feel made
over; forget you have a stomach.
Try this Phillips’ way if you have
any acid stomach upsets. Get either
the liquid “Phillips’' or the remark
able, new Phillips' Milk of Magnesia
Tablets. Only 25^ for a big box of
tablets at drug stores.
ALSO IN TABLET FORMi
Each tiny tablet
la the equivalent
of a teaapoonful
of genuine Phil- -
lips' Milk of
Magnesia.
Phillips9 milkop
rniLLird magnesia
Firmness
I know no real worth but that
tranquil firmness which seeks
dangers by duty, and braves them
without rashness.—Stanislaus.
TO regain lost weight Is a Simple
matter when certain bodily func
tions are restored to normal. Of fore
most importance Is the stimulation of
digestive juices in the stomachtomake
better use of the food you eat.. .and
restoration of lowered red-blood-cells
to turn the digested food into firm
flesh. S.S.S. Tonic does just this.
Forget about underweight worries
If you are deficient in stomach diges
tive juices and rcd-blood-cells... just
tuke S.S.S. Tonic immediately before
each meal. Shortly you will be de- ,
lighted with the way you will feel....
your friends will compliment you on
the way you will look.
S.S.S. Tonic is especially designed to
build sturdy health...its remarkable
value is time tried and scientifically
tiroven.. .that’s why it makes you feel
ike yourself again. Available at any
drugstore. ©S.S.S. Co,
Omah^
I HATE
GOING OUT.
MY SKIN i
LOOKS
AWFUL. VI?
'try cuticura?
[it's fine for all
'irritations of
EXTERNAL SOURCE!
you're OANCING
EVERY DANCE.
YES,JANE,
THANKS TO
CUTICURA
SOAP AND
OINTMENT
FREE sample, write
“Cutlcura*’ Dept. 35, Malden, Bass,