Nebraska Newspapers

    SYNOPSIS.
—11—
Peter Knight, defeated for political of
ti ■■ ;n his town, decides to venture New
York in order that the family fortunes
might benefit by the expected rise .if his
. harming daughter, Lorelei. .V well
known critic interviews Lorelei Knight,
now stage beauty with Bergman’s Revue,
for a special article. Her coin-hunting
mother outlines Lorelei's ambitions, hut
Slosson. the press agent, later adds his
information. Lorelei attends Millionaire
llammott's gorgeous entertainment. She
meets Merkle. a wealthy dyspeptic. Bob
Wharton conies uninvited. Lorelei dis
covers a blackmail plot against Hammon,
in which her mother is involved. Merkle
and laireiei have an auto wre k. The
blackmailers besmirch her good name.
Lorelei learns her mother is an unscru
pulous plotter. She finds in Adores Dem
urest a real friend, and finds Bob Whar
ton is likable. Lorelei leaves her family
and goes to live alone. Ixirelel and drun
ken Boh Wharton are tricked into mar
riage. Lilas shoots and wounds Ham
nion seriously. Adores Demorest meets
< 'ampbell Pope. Hammon dies. Old man
Wharton seeks to divorce his son and
Lorelei, hut thev refuse to separate even
under pain of disinheritance.
At last Lorelei shows her fine
character to those who would
use her as a dupe and to those
who misjudge the girl. In a
dilemma that would have non
plused most thoughtful women,
young Bob Wharton’s wife mas
ters a situation in a manner to
make him proud of her. And
she chooses to stick by Bob.
How very powerful agents tried
to wreck their honeymoon and
how Lorelei set about to build
• foundation of permanent hap
piness in marriage is told in this
installment.
Old Man Wharton is accusing Lore
lei and trying to persuade his son to
leave her.
CHAPTER XVII—Continued.
Lorelei was standing very white and
Ktill: now she said, ‘‘Don't you think
you'd better go?”
The elder man laid aside his hat and
gloves, then spoke with snarling delib
eration. "I’ll go when I choose. No
high and mighty airs with me, if you
please.” After a curious scrutiny of
them both he asked his son: “You
don't really imagine that she married
you for anything except your money,
do you?”
“I nattered myself—” Bob began,
stiffly.
"Ball! You’re drunk.”
"Moderately, perhaps—or let us say
that I am iu an unnaturally argumenta
tive mood. I take issue with you. You
see, dad. I've been crazy about I-orelei
ever since I first saw her. and—”
“To he sure, that’s quite natural. But
why in hell did you marry her? That
wasn't necessary, was it?”
Lorelei uttered a sharp cry. Bob
rose: his eyes were bright and hard.
Mr. Wharton merely arched his shaggy
brows, inquiring quickly of the bride:
“What's the matter? I state the case
correctly, do I not?”
“No!” gasped Lorelei.
“Let's talk plainly—’’
“That's a bit too plain, even from
you, dad.” Bob cried, angrily.
( “It's time for plain speaking. You
got drunk, and she trapped you. I’m
here to get you out of the trap.” Ad
dressing himself to Lorelei, he said:
“Ten thousand dollars will buy a lot of
clothes. I believe that’s the amount
Merkle offered you, isn’t it?”
“Merkle? What are you talking
about?” Bob demanded.
“Did Mr. Merkle tell you how and
why he came to make that offer?''
asked Lorelei, indignantly.
“No. But he offered it, did he not?”
t “Yes, and I refused it. Ask him
why?”
“We don't seem to be petting along
very well.” Bob interposed. “Lorelei is
iny wife aud your daughter-in-law.
What's more, I love her; so I guess
that ends the Reno chatter.” He
crossed to Lorelei's side and encircled
her with his arm. “There's no price
tag on this marriage, dad, and you'll
regret what you’ve said.”
1 Wharton senior shrugged wearily.
“You tell him. miss: maybe he’ll be
lieve you.”
"Tell him what?” asked Loreiei.
“The truth, of course." He paused
fur a reply, and. receiving none, broke
That’s a Lie I
out wrnthfully: “Then I will. Slie's a
grafter, Bob, and ber whole family arc
grafters. Now, let me finish. i>he
makes her living in any way she can;
she smirks at you out of every catch
penny advertisement along Broadway.
She’s ‘The Chewing-Gum Gfrl’ and ‘The
Petticoat Girl’ and ‘The Bathtub
Girl’—”
•‘There's nothing dishonest in that.”
“Just a minute. I won’t have my
•daughter’s face grinning at me every
time I get into a street car. I'd be
the laughing-stock of the country. It’s
legitimate, perhaps, but it’s altogether
too damned colorful for me.”
“Is that all you have against her?”
“Not by any means. She’s notori
ous—”
"Newspaper talk!’
meAUCTION BLOCK
A NOVEL or NEW YORK LIFE
4rRLX DLACrt t T
ILLUSTRATIONS PARKER
Author of
“The Iron Trail”
“ The Spoilers”
“ The Silver Horde” Etc.
t •tp'lgfa, Hr V Rmkt't
“Is It? She's made her living by
bleeding men. by taking gifts and
renting herself out the way she did at
Hamruon's supper. Men don't support
show girls from chivalrous motives. I
had her family looked up. and it didn't
take two hours. Listen to this report.”
“No:” Lorelei gulped.
“ ‘No police record as yet’—‘Broker
living at the Charlevoix apartments'—
'injured by a taxicab while intoxi
cated,’ ” quoted Wharton. “Scandal,
blackmail, graft, it's all here. Bob.
The report was made by one of our
own men. and it's incomplete, but I
can have it elaborated. What do you
say, Mrs. Wharton? Is it true?”
Loreiei dropped her head. “Most of
it. I dare say.”
"Did you try to blackmail Merkle?"
“No.”
“Your mother and your brother did."
She was silent.
“They tried to scare him into marry
ing you, did they not?”
“Haiumon said something about
that,” ejaculated Bob. “but I don’t be
lieve—”
Lorelei * checked him. “It's quite
true.”
“Merkle said you had nothing to do
with it personally,” conscientiously ex
plained Mr. Wharton, “and I’m willing
to take his word. But that’s neither
here nor there.” There was n moment
of silence during which he folded and
replaced the report; then he shook his
head, exclaiming. “Second-hand goods,
my boy!”
"That's a lie”' Lorelei's voice was
like a whip.
Mr. Wharton eyed her grimly.
“That’s something for Bob to deter
mine—I have only the indications to
go on. I don't blame him for losing his
wits—you’re very good looking—but
the affair must end. You’re not a girl
I'd care to have in my family—pardon
my bluntness.”
She met his eyes fairly. At no time
had she flinched before him, although
inwardly she had cringed and her flesh
had quivered at his merciless atttack.
“You have told Bob the truth,” she
began, slowly, “in the worst possible
way; you have put me in the most un
favorable light. I dare say I never
would have had the courage to tell
him myself, although he deserves to
know. I’ve been pretty—commercial—
because I had to be, but I never sold
myself, and I sha'n't begin now. Bob
isn’t a child: he’s nearly thirty years
old—old enough to make up his own
mind—and be must make this decision,
not I.”
Bob opened his lips, but his father
forestalled him.
“What do you mean by that?”
“I have no price. If he's sick of the
match we’ll end it, and it won’t cost
you a cent.”
Bob looked inscrutable; his father
smiled for the first time during the in
terview.
“That’s very decent of you," he said,
“but of course I sha’n't put the good
faith of your offer to the test. I don’t
want something for nothing. I’ll take
care of you nicely.”
Thus far Bob had yielded precedence
to his father, but he could no longer
restrain himself. “Now let me take
the chair,” he commanded, easily. “My
mind is made up. You see, I didn't
marry ‘Peter Knight, residence Vale,’
nor ‘James Knight, reputation bad,’
nor even ‘Mathilda Knight wife of
Peter.’ I married this kid. and the
books are closed. You say the Knights
are a bad lot. and Lorelei’s reputation
is a trifle discolored; maybe you're
right, but mine has some inky blots on
it, too. and I guess the cleanest part
of it would just about match the dark
est that hers can show. I seem to have
all the best of the deal.”
“Don't be an ass,” growled his fa
ther.
“I’ve always been one—1 may as
well be consistent.” Bob felt the slen
der form at his side begin to tremble,
and smiled down into the troubled blue
eyes upturned to his. “Maybe we’ll
both have to'do some forgiving and
forgetting. I believe that’s usual nowa
days.”
"Oh, I’m not whitewashing you,”
Ilanuibal snapped. “She probably
| knows what you are.”
“I do.” agreed Lorelei. “He’s a—
drunkard, and everything that means.
: But you taught him to drink before he
j could choose for himself.”
Mr. Wharton smiled sneeringly. “Ad
I mirable! I begin to see that you’re
| more than a pretty woman. Get his
I sympathy: it’s good business. Now
he’ll think he must act the man. But
! that will wear off. And understand
; this: You can’t graft off me. You and
I your family are due for a great disap
I pointment. Bob hasn't anything, and
he won’t have until I die, but I’m good
for thirty years yet. I’m not going to
disinherit him. I’m merely going to
wait until you both get tired. Take my
word for it, poverty is the most tire
some thing in the world.”
•‘We can manage,” said Lorelei.
“You speak for yourself, but he
can't make a living—unless he has
something In him that I never discov
ered. I fear you’ll find him rather a
heavy burden.”
Throughout the interview Mr. Whar
ton had kept his temper quite perfect
ly, and his coolness at this moment
argued a greater fixity of purpose than
might have been inferred from a dis
play of rage. He made a final appeal
to his son: “Can’t you see that it won’t
do at all, Bob? I won’t stand para
sites, unless they’re my own. Either
have done with the matter and let me
pay the charges or—go through to the
bitter finish on your own feet. She’s
supporting three loafers; I dare say she
can take care of another, but it isn’t
quite right to put it upon her—she’s
sure to weary of it some time. You’ll
notice I’ve said nothing about your
mother so far, but—she's with me in
this. I’ll be in the city for several
(lays, and I’d like to have you return
to Pittsburgh with me when 1 go. Moth
er is expecting you. If you decide to
stick it out—” Wharton's face showed
more than a trace of feeling, his deep
voice lowered a tone—“you may go to
hell, with my compliments, and I’ll sit
on the lid to keep you there.”
He rose, took his hat. and stalked out
of the apartment without so much as a
backward glance.
CHAPTER XVIII.
“Whew! That was a knockout. Rut
who got licked?” Hob went to the lit
tle sideboard and helped himself to a
stilt drink.
“I>id he mean it?”
“My dear, time wears away moun
tains. and rivers dry up, and the whole
solar system is gradually running
down. I believe; but dad isn't governed
by any natural laws whatsoever. He's
built of reinforced concrete, and time
hardens him. He's impervious to rust
or decay, and gravity exerts no power
over him.”
“Then 1 think you’d better make
your choice tonight.”
Rob's eyes opened. “I have. Don't
you understand ? I'm going to stand
pat—that is, unless''—he hesitated, his
smile was a bit uncertain—“unless
you're sick of your bargain. I'm afraid
you haven't come out of the deal very
I Divorce the Demon Rum.”
well. Yon thought 1 was rich—and so
did I until,a moment a._*—but I'm not.
I've run through a good deal. I don't
blame you for considering me a tine
catch or for marrying me. You see. I
never expected to find a girl who’d
take me for anything except my money,
so I’m not offended or disappointed or
surprised. A bank account looms up
just as big on Fifth avenue as it does
ou Amsterdam, and there areu't any
more love matches over there than else
where. I’m not blind to my short-coin
ings, either; there are a lot of bad
habits waiting to be acquired by a
chap with time and money like me. I
can't live without booze; I don’t know
how to earn a living; I'm a corking
spendthrift. That's one side. Balanced
against that, I possess—let me see—l
possess a fair sense of huinor. Not a
very even account. Is it?”
For once in his life Bob showed un
mistakable self-consciousness: this
was, so far as Lorelei knew, his maid
en effort to be serious. He ran on hur
riedly: “What I mean to convey is
this: I have no regrets, no questions
to ask, no reproaches. I got all I ex
pected, and all I was entitled to when
I married you. But it seems that
you’ve been cheated, and—I’m ready to
do the square thing. I’ll step aside and
give you another chance, if you say
so.”
During this little declaration Lorelei
had watched him keenly; she appeared
to be seriously weighing bis offer.
“I was Retting pretty tired of
things," lie added, “and I s'pose I’d
have wound up in the D. T. parlors of
some highly exclusive institution or be
hind a bathroom door with a gas tube
in my teeth. But—I met you. and you
went to my head. I wanted you worse
than I ever wanted anything—worse
even than I ever wanted liquor. And
now I have you. I’ve had you for one
day. and that’s something. I suppose
it’s silly to talk about starting over—
I don’t want to reform If I don't have
to; moderation strikes me ns an awful
cold proposition; but it looks as if re
form were indicated if I’m to keep you.
I’m just nn album of expensive habits,
and—we're broke. Maybe I could—do
something with myself if you took a
hand. It’s a good deal to ask of a
girl like you. but”—he regarded her
timidly, then averted his eyes—“if yon
cared to try it we might make it go
for a while. And you might get to care
for me a little—if I improve.” Again
he paused hopefully. “I’ve been as
honest as I know how. Now, won’t you
be the snme?”
Lorelei roused herself, and spoke
with quiet decision.
“I’ll go through to the end. Bob.”
Bob started and uttered an inarticu
late word or two; in his face was a
light of gladness that went to the
girl’s heart. His name had risen free
ly to her lips; he felt as if she had laid
her hand in his with a declaration of
absolute trust.
“You mean that?”
She nodded. . ..
lie took her in his arms and kissed
her gently; then, feeling her warm
against his breast, he burst the bonds
that had restrained him up to this mo
ment and covered her face, her neck,
her hair witii passionate caresses. For
the first time since iiis delirium of the
night before he abandoned himself to
the hunger her beauty excited, and she
offered him no resistance.
At last she freed herself, and.
straightening the disorder of her hair,
smiled at him mistily.
“Wait. I’lense—”
"Beautiful!*' His eyes were aflame.
“You're my wife. Nothing can change
that."
“Nothing except—yourself. Now, you
must listen to me.” She forced him re
luctantly into his chair and seated her
self opposite. He leaned forward and
kissed her once more, then seized her
hand and held it. At intervals he
crushed his lips into its pink palm.
“We must start honestly,’* she began.
“Do you mind if 1 hurt you?’’
“You can’t hurt me so long as you
don’t—leave me. Your eyes have haunt
ed me every night. I’ve seen the curve
of your neck—your lips. No woman
was ever so perfect so maddening.”
“Always that. You’re not a husband
at this moment: you’re only a man."
He frowned slightly.
“That’s what makes this whole mat
ter so difficult,” she went on. “Don’t
you see?”
He shook his head.
“You don’t love me. you're drunk
with—something altogether different
to love. . . . It’s true,” she insist
ed. “You show it. You don't even
know the real me.”
“Beauty may lie only a skin dis
ease.” Boli laughed, “but ugliness goes
clear to the lione.”
“1 married you for your money, and
you married me because—I seemed
physically perfect—because my face
and my body roused tires in you. I
think we are both pretty rotten at
heart, don't you?”
“Xo. Anyhow, I don't carp to think
about it. I never won anything by
thinking. Kiss me again.”
She ignored Ids demand, with her
shadowy smite. "I deliberately traded
on my looks: 1 put myself up for a
price, and you paid that price regard
less of everything except your desires.
We muddled tilings dreadfully and got
our deserts. I didn't love you. I don't
love you now any more than you love
me: but I think we're coming to re
spect each other, and that is a liegin
ning. You have longings to be some
thing different and better: so have I.
I.et's try together. I have it in me to
succeed, but I'm not sure about you.”
“Thanks for the good cheer."
"You’re afraid yon can’t make a liv
ing for us—I know yon can. I’m mere
ly afraid yon won’t.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“1 don't believe the liquor will let
yon.”
"Nonsense. Any man can cut down.”
“ ‘Cutting down' won’t do for us.
Bob.” lie thrilled anew at her inti
mate use of his name. “The chemistry
of your body demands the stuff—you
couldn't lie temperate in anything.
You'll have to quit.”
“All right, i’ll quit. I divorce the
demon rum: lovers once, but strangers
now. I'll quit gambling, too.”
I.mvlei laughed. “That won’t strain
yonr will-power In the least, for half
my salary goes up Amsterdam avenue,
and (lie rest will about run this flat."
Her listener frowned. “Forget that
salary talk." lie said, shortly. “D’you
think I'd let you—support me? D’you
think I'm that kind of a nosegay?
When I get so I can't pay the bills I'll
walk out. Tomorrow you quit work,
and wo move to the Ritz—they know
me there, and—this delightful, home
like grotto of yours gives me the colly
wobbles.”
“Who will pay the hotel?” Lorelei
smiled.
Mr. George W. Bridegroom, of
course. I’ll get the money, never fear.
I know everybody, and I've borrowed
thousands of dollars when I didn’t
need it. My rooms at the Charlevoix
are full of expensive junk; I'll sell It,
and that will help. As soon as we’re
decently settled I’ll look for a salaried
job. Then watch my smoke. To
quote from the press of a few months
hence: ‘The meteoric rise of Robert
Wharton has startled the financial
world, surpassing ns it does the sensa
tional success of Ills father. Young
Mr. Wharton was seen yesterday at his
Wall street office and took time from
his many duties to modestly assure our
representative that his ability was in
herited, and merely illustrates anew
the maxim that “a chip of the old block
will return after many days.”’ That
will please dad. He'll relent when I
attribute my success to him.”
“You must quit drinking before you
begin work,” said Lorelei.
“I have quit.”
With a person of such resilient tem
perament, one who gamboled through
life like a fawn, argument was diffi
cult. Bob Wharton was pagan In his
joyous inconsequence; his romping
spirits could not be damped; he bub
bled with the optimism of a Robin
Goodfeilow. Ahead of him be saw
nothing but dancing sunshine, heard
nothing but the Pandean pipes. The
girl-wife watched him curiously.
“I wonder if you can.” she mused.
“Before we begiu our new life we’re
going to make a bargain, binding on
both of us. You’ll have to stop drink
ing. I won't live with a drunkard. I’ll
work until you’ve mastered the crav
ing.”
“No!” Bob declared, firmly. “I’ll
take the river before I’ll let you—keep
me. Why, if I—”
Lorelei rose and laid her hand over
his lips, saying quietly:
“I’m planning our happiness, don’t
you understand? and it’s a big stake.
You must pocket your pride for a
while. Nobody will know IVti’vn untile
a bob'll of tiling* »o far, ami lucre Is
only one *vny for Its to win mil."
“A man who'll lot Ids wife "
"A nnm who wouldn't lot 111" wife
have her xvay at first U a brute.”
"You MliouliJu’t auk II." ho cried, sul
lenly.
“I don't auk It: I Insist ii[*«i It. If
you refuse we oan’t go on."
“Surely you don’t moan that?" He
looked up at her with it rave, troubled
eyes.
“I do. I'm entirely in earnest. You
haven’t strength to go out among your
friends and restrain yourself. No man
as far gone as you could do It.”
"I’ve a simpler way than that," he
told her, after a moment's thonght.
"There are institutions where they
straighten fellows up. I'll go to one of
those.”
‘'No.” She rejected this suggestion
positively. "They only relieve: they
don’t cure. The appetite comes back.
This is something you must do your
self, once and for all. Y'ou must tight
this out in secret: this city is no place
for men with apatites they can’t con
trol. Do tills for me. Bob. and—and
I’ll let you do anything after that. I’ll
let yon—beat me." Getting no re
sponse from him. she added gravely,
“It is that or—nothing.”
"I can't let you go,” Bob said finally.
"Good! We'll keep this apartment
and I’ll go on working—”
He hid his face in Ills hands and
groaned. “Gee! I'm a rotter.”
“You can sell your belongings at the
Charlevoix, and we'll use the money.
We'll need everything, for 1 can't piece
out my salary the way I've been doing.
There can't he auy more supper parties
and gifts—”
“I should hope not," he growled. "I'll
murder the first man who speaks to
you.”
“Then it is a real, binding bargain?”
"It is—if you’ll bind it with another
kiss,” he agreed, with a miserable at
tempt at cheerfulness. “But I sha’n’t
look myself in the face."
For the first time she came to him
willingly.
"Doesn't it seem nice to be honest
with yourself and the world?” she
sighed, after a time.
"Yes.” he laughed. “I’m sorry to
out the governor adrift but he'll have
to get along without our help.”
Despite his jocularity he was deeply
moved. As the situation grew clearer
to him he saw that this girl was about
to change the whole current of his care
less life: her unexpected firmness, her
gentle, womanly determination at this
crisis was very grateful—he desperate
ly longed to retain its support—and yet
the arrangement to which she had
forced his consent went sorely against
his grain. His struggle had not been
easy. Her surrender to him was as
complete and as unselfish as his own
acquiescence seemed unmanly and
weak. He rose and paced the little
room to relieve his feelings. Days and
weeks of almost constant dissipation
had affected his mental poise quite as
disastrously as the strain of the past
twenty-four hours had told upon his 1
physical control, and he was shaking
nervously. He paused at the sideboard
finally and poured himself a steadying
drink.
Lorelei watched his trembling fingers
fill the glass before she spoke.
“You mustn't touch that.” she said,
positively.
“Eh?" He turned, stll! frowning ab
sent-mindely. "Oh. this?” He held the
"You Mustn’t Touch That,” She Said,
Positively.
glass to the light. “You mean you
want me to begiu—now? A fellow has
to sober up gradually, my dear. 1
really need a Jolt—I’m all unstrung.”
“I sealed the bnrgain.”
“But. Lorelei—” He set the glass
down with t: mirthless laugh. “Of
course, I won't, if you insist. I intend
ed to taper off—a chap can't turn tee
totaler the way he turns a handspring.”
He eyed the glass with a sudden in
tensity of longing. “Let’s begin tomor
row. Nobody starts a new life at 2 a.
in. And—it's all poured out”
She answered by taking the glass
and flinging its contents from the open
window. This done, she gathered the
bottles from the sideboard—there were
not many—and, opening the folding!
doors that masked the kitchenette, she
updhded them over the sink. When
the last gurgle had died away she
went to her husband and put her arms
around his neck. '
“You must.” she said, gently. "If
you’ll only let me have my way we’ll
win. But. ISob, dear, it's going to be a
bitter fight.”
Lorelei’s family spent most of the
night lit discussing their great good
fortune. Kven Jim. worn out as be
| was by Ills part In llieevents connected
1 •••'->1) Hie marriage, sat until a late hour
I planning his sister's future, and incV
i dentally tils own. After he bad gone
j to bed mother and father remained In
! a glow of exhilaration that made sleep
Impossible, and It was nearly dawn
when they retired to ilrefttns of hopes
achieved and ambitions realized.
A limit nine-thirty on the following
morning. Just when the rival Wall
street forces were gathering, Hannibal
Wharton called tip the Knight estab
lishment.
i
CHAPTER XIX.
On the wny to the Eleganeia Mrs.
Knight recounted to Jim In great detail
rind with numerous digressions and
comments what Hannibal Wharton
had said to her. Mrs. Knight herself
i lie had called a blood-sucker. it seemed
—the good woman shook with rage at
the memory—and he had threatened
her with the direst retribution if she
persisted in attempting to fasten her
self upon him. Bob. he had explained,
was a loafer whom he had supported
out of n sense of duty; if the idiot was
ungrateful he would simply have to
suffer the consequences. But Bob’s
mother felt the disgrace keenly, and
on her account Hannibal bad expressed
himself as willing to ransom the young
• fool for. say, ten thousand dollars.
“I never was so insulted in my life,”
j stormed Mrs. Knight. “You should
j have beard him!”
With a show of confidence not entire
ly real Jim rejoined: "Sow, mn. don’t
heat up. Everybody forgets me. but
I’m*going to draw cards in this game.”
The interview that followed their ar
rival at Lorelei’s borne was far from
pleasant. At his first opportunity Bob
explained rather briefly:
"I offered Lorelei her freedom last
night when my income was ampu
tated.”
“You’ve had time to- think It over,”
his wife interposed. “Do you still
want me?”
“Why, of eourse. And you?”
She shrugged. “I don’t change in
one night. Now—I wish you and Jim
would leave mother and me—”
Do you believe that Lorelei
now can shake her bloodsuck
ing relatives for good, and can
prove to Old Man Wharton that
she is well worth a place in his
family circle?
(TO BK CONTINUED.)
FIND JOY IN BEING ALONE
Experience Which Is Nothing Short
of Delight Is Recommended by
Lover of the Woods.
The art of being alone Is worth cul
tivating. Unless you have really tried
It. you have no Idea how unusual and
refreshing it is. City life, and even
modern country life are not conducive
to its practice. It is very different
from being lonesome and quite an
other matter from being ill. It is
found at its full flower only in the
woods, and its best development re
quires some adjustment and practice.
The first experience is apt to leave
one somewhat baffled, if not fright
ened. We live so much with other
men and with the evidences of their
activity that we hardly know how
( much is ourselves and how much
someone else. In the woods—and it
need not be the remote wilderness—
we can divest ourselves of all that is
not really a part of us. We can learn
how small—or perhaps how large—we
I are. We can soak up impressions with
time to taste them and consider them.
We can learn the true value of wind
and clouds and sun and shade. If we
feel like it, we can talk out loud to
ourselves, and there will be no one to
think us crazy. We can sing and no
one will tell us we are off the tune.
In short, we can be natural for once
in our lives—free from the warping
effect of what other people think.
That is surely an experience worth
while.—Outing.
Reformed Lover.
The late John Philip Quinn, who
for 20 ,vears traveled all over America
exposing the electric roulete wheel and
other cheating devices used in gam
bling. had a reform story that he
would tell while exhibiting his queer
paraphernalia in his private car.
“Don’t he afraid of reform,” he said.
“Help every poor fellow who wants to
reform. The Why most people act
you’d thiuk they all believed religious
ly in the reform story. ‘You stopped
smoking because she asked you to?'
was the question put to a solemn
looking chap. ‘Yep.’ ‘And you stopped
swearing because she asked you to?’
‘Yep.’ ‘And you gave up your poker
parties and went into retined, serious
society for the same reason?’ ‘Yep,
yep, yep.’ ‘And yet you never mar
ried her.’ ‘Well, you see, after I’d re
l'omied like that, I found I could do
better.’ ’’
Japanese Sword Blades.
Worship of blades, common to many
ancient nations, never reaches such
poetic expression as among the Japa
nese. When the brother of the sun
goddess, as ruler of the sea, slew that j
great dragon which had been devastat- |
mg the land, he took form the mon- !
sler’s tall a marvelous sword. This the |
sun goddess bestowed upon her grand- j
son, the lirst of the imperial line of .
tlie land of cherry blossoms. This
sv, ord, a mirror and a single jewel con
stitute the regalia of Japan, the sword
lying in the uDcient Shinto shrine of
Atsuta, where thousands of pilgrims
go yearly to pay it homage. Th*
monetary value of a fine Japanese
sword blade, unmounted and un
, adorned, and such as the nobles wore
at one time, was from $1,000 to $1,500.
Wouldn’t Care Anyway.
“I see where a judge has decided
that to tickle a mule on the hind leg
Is contributory negligence.” “I
shouldn’t think a man who did that
would care by the time the decision
was given what it was.”
HOW MRS. BEAN
MET THE CRISIS
Carried Safely Through Change
of Life by Lydia E. Puuo'jb’i
Vegetable Compound.
Nashville,Tenn.—"When I was going
through the Change of Life I had a tu
mor as large as a
child's bead. The
doctor said it was
three yews coining
and gave me medi
cine for it until I
was called away
from the city for
some time.* Of
i course I eould no>
I go to him then, so
Bmy sister-in-law told
lime that she thought
Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Com
pound would cure it. It helped both
the Change of Life and the tumor and
when I got home I did not nerd the doctor.
I took the Pinkham remedies until the
tumor was gone, the doctor said-, and I
have not felt it since. I tell every one
how I was cured. If this letter will
help others you are welcome to use it.”
—Mrs. E. H. Bean, 626 Joseph Avenue,
Nashville, Tenn.
Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Com
pound, a pure remedy containing the
extractive properties of good old fash
ioned roots and herbs, meets the needs
of woman’s system at this critical period
•f her life. Try it.
If there lawny symptom in yoor
case which puzzles you, write to
the Lydia E. Pinkham Medicine
Co., Lynn, Mass. ,
The New Porter.
Jim was a new porter in a hotel,
j and he was putting in his first night
at his new and responsible position.
It was five in the morning and so far
Jim had done all he was told, and was
getting on splendidly.
“Call seventeen and four,” command
ed the night clerk, as he looked over
his call sheet. Jim obeyed.
After he had been gone for a con
siderable time the clerk went up to
see if he had called the rooms desig
nated.
“Well,” sighed the new porter, whom
he found on the third floor, “I’ve got
seventeen of 'em up, but I haven’t
started on the other four yet.”
CLEANSE THE PORES
Of Year Skin and Make It Fresh and
Clear by Using Cuticura. Trial Free.
When suffering from pimples, black
I heads, redness or roughness, smear
the skin with Cuticura Ointment.
Then, wash off with Cuticura Soap and
hot water. These super-creamy emol
lients do much for the skin because
they prevent pore clogging.
Free sample each by mail with Book.
; Address postcard, Cuticura. Dept. L,
: Boston. iSold everywhere.—Adv.
Apples Is Good.
| The young superintendent of the
Endeavor society tried to teach each
j child to say aloud some prayer, even
if it were only a sentence. At first
she taught them prayers. Later they
were encouraged to compose their own.
One tiny fellow, the son of a poor
j widow, had his first production ready
j on a very cold winter day.
“Dear Lord, apples is good.”
That night the mother of the super
intendent took a basket of apples to
the child’s home. The boy smiled radi
antly, evidently grateful that his first
prayer had been answered.—Indianap
olis News.
Sometimes a widow makes a hit by
posing as a miss.
That Knife-Like Pain
Huve you a lame back, aching day
and night? Do yon feel sharp pains
after stooping? Are the kidneys
sore? Is their action irregular? Do
you have headaches, backaches,
rheumatic pains,—feel tired, nerv
ous, all worn-out? Use Doan's Kid
ney Pills—the medicine recom
mended by so many people In this
locality. Read the experience that
follows:
A Nebraska Case
O. K. Booth, paint
er. Randolph Hotel,
Randolph, Neb.,
says: "There were
sharp, darting pains
through my back,
followed by swelling
of my limbs. X was
all run down and
had to give up work.
I suffered from chills
and the kidney se
cretions were scant
and painful in pas
sage. After different
medicines had failed
I heard of Doan’s
Kidney Pills. They
Picture
Tells i
\SUnr‘
restored me to good health and I have
since been free from kidney trouble.*'
Get Dean’s at Any Store, 50c t Bex
DOAN'S %*,”*•**
FOSTER-MOB URN CO., BUFFALO. N. Y«
Constipation
Vanishes Forever
Prompt Relief—Permanent Cure
CARTER’S LITTLE
LIVER PILLS never .
fail. Purely vegeta-^J
ble — act surely
but gently on
the liver.
Stop after
dinner dis- <
tress—cure j
indigestion.
Carter's
KITTLE
IVER
PILLS.
improve the complexion, brighten the eyes.
SMALL PILL, SMALL DOSE, SMALL PRICE.
Genuine must bear Signature
WHY WOT TUT POPHAM’S
ASTHMA MEDICINE
Qtr«a Prompt and Positive Relief in Every
Case. Sold by Druggists. Price tlJJO.
Trial Package by Kail 10c.
WILLIAMS MFC. CO., Prop*. 0181(11114,0.
W. N. U, OMAHA, NO. 36-1916. ~