Beauty Matter
of Business to
Homes Expert
Hunt Cook to Explain Prin
ciples of Science at The
Omaha Bee Better
Homes Exposition.
"In every human being there exists
a. love of the beautiful," asserts
Hunt Cook, the widely known lec
turer and demonstrator on art in the
home, who is to be here for The
Omaha Bee Better Homes Exposi
tion. By art in the home, Mr. Cook
does not refer solely to the pictures
on the walls or the bric-a-brac on the
mantel, but the entire scheme and
arrangement of the rooms, furniture,
lamps, rugs, ete., and tlie general
tone and attractiveness of the dwell
ings.
Mr. Cook says, "Unless you show;
people how art makes itself useful
in their lives, they will not accept
it as anything more than luxury.”
Showing people the use of art is
Mr. Cook’s profession. For several
years he was one of the extension lec
turers for the Chicago Art institute.
For the past two years he has been
conducting Better Homes institutes
on the Pacific coast.
Mr. Cook’s theory of art and
beauty in the home is not at all com
plicated. He believes in proving to
business men that art is an asset and
not a liability. He claims that be can
in five minutes prove to any business
man that he can go downtown and
actually practice art, because he lias
been told how to do it from that side.
Here are some of the sayings which
Mr. Cook emphasizes:
"Money is not related to beauty."
"Beauty depends upon certain prin
ciples ns easily mastered as any other
fact of business.
"Lavish display and great expendi
tures are in no way essential to
beauty."
In ordpr to show exactly what he
means, Mr. Cook will bring with
liftn 12 portable rooms and demon
strate with real furniture what is
ugly and then with the same materi
als create a beautiful room.
The lecturer starts in the kitchen
and goes through the house—upstairs
and down—taking up each room In
turn. He" is not only an artist, but
he is practical in everything he says
and does and every art princ'ple he
advocates can be adopted by the fam
ily of humble circumstances.
"We have been so accustomed to
think of art as luxury and something
not obtainable except with plenty of
money, that we have lost sight—if we
ever had it—of the fact that homes
of the rich are not the only ones
which can be made beautiful," says
Mr. Cook. “That is the wonderful
thing about learning how to create
beauty with very simple materials.”
If you are short and stout with
brown hair and a peaches and cream
complexion, should you wear a red
picture hat or a black turban?
Some ladies know the answer to
this question, but, alas, there are
many who do not, according to
Evelyn Hansen, lecturer and demon
strator on art in dress and in the
home, under the auspices of the Amer- ,
lean Homes bureau.
Miss Hansen was formerly Instruct
or In the Wisconsin State Normal:
then she wns engaged by the Chicago
Art Institute as its principal lecturer
and demonstrator on art in dress In
the nation-wide campaign for the im
provement of every day art begun by
the Institute several years ago. When
this work was taken over by the
American Homes bureau. Miss Han
sen was re engaged as the chief ex
ponent of those phases of everyday
nrt which fall distinctly within the
sphere o< the individual woman.
At the Better Homes exposition
April 30—May 5, Miss Hansen will
demonstrate with living models the
principles of beauty in dress as ap
plied to different types of women.
She will explain how every woman
should dress "to her type" and how
to recognize her type, what colors
she may wear, and why; what lines
she should strive for, and why; how
to get effective results from Inex
pensive materials,
The Married Life of Helen and Warren
Chaotic Confusion Attends the Annual
Ordeal of “Having the Painters."
“D’you want all them things from
the top shelf too?” demanded Anna
from her perch on the stepladder.
“Yes, everything. He's going to
paint all those shelves. Be careful,
that handle’s broken!" Helen reached
up for the vflng-dlsh.
“Where’re you goln’ to put ’em all?’
exuding disapproval of this extra
work, she handed down some Jelly
glasses.
“In the dining room, on the floor.
We’ll take up the rugs. Hand me
that old tray next, we can set some
of these small things on that.”
“Now, if you’ll see if this color’s
right,” from the painter who had
been mixing paint in the kitchen.
“Don't you think it's a little light?”
demurred Helen, w*hen he brushed a
sample of cream paint on the door
moulding.
“Bame as what’s on there, that s
just dirty. But I’ll make It dark as
you want It, It’s up to you,” his shrug
disclaiming responsibility of any other
shade.
‘‘Well, if you think Its tho same.
But put plenty of enamel in it—it’s
easier to keep clean. You'll put two
coats in here, won't you?" anxiously.
"I’ll fix It all right, you leave it to
me," with good-natured evasion.
Turning hack to the shelves Helen
found Anna waiting stolidly, her
hands on her bulbous hips.
“Why didn’t you go right ahead?
What are you waiting for?”
“This ain't no good, is it?” examin
ing with exasperating leisure an old
electric curling iron.
“You come down!” sharply. "I H
get up there—we’ve got to hurry.
Taking Anna's place on the ladder,
with reproving rapidity, Helen handed
down the decrepit odds and ends that
cluttered the top pantry shelf.
A felt brush for cleaning windows
that only smeared the glass. Some
wooden plenlc dishes, never used. A
patent cake pan that always burnt
the cake. A roll of shelf paper. A
orumh brush and tray that table eti
quet now tattooed. An impractical j
coffee pot bought at a food show. The :
glass globe from the hall light that
Helen had replaced with a silk shade, j
"What's this done up in newspa
per? Not one of my good plates? |
Oh, Anna! And you never told me!” >
fitting together the broken pieces.
"I never put that up there! That
wuz broke 'fore I came.”
Unconvinced by the belligerent pro- ;
test, Helen examined the newspaper.
"There's no use denying it, Anna.
Look at the date on this paper:”
Anna’s sallow skin turned a brick
red. The paper, not a month old,
proved her guilt.
"I didn’t break It nohow, still de
fiant. “ ’Twas already cracked—It
Just came apart when I put It In hot
water.”
"You got any old papers?” asked
the painter. "I’ll cover up the stove."
"Yes, plenty of them—right there
under the sink.”
"D'you want those kitchen cup
boards painted on the inside?"
"Oh. yes, we’ll take the things out
soon as we get through here. I didn’t
expect you till Monday—that's why
we’re not ready.”
“Well, we finished up on the ninth
floor yesterday. The superintendent
said start here today."
Meekly Helen accepted the flurry
and inconvenience, for the wisdom of
"taking the painters when you can
get them" Is deep-rooted in all house
wives.
The pantry shelves cleared, they
started on the kitchen cupboards.
In the seven months of Anna’s
surly reign, Helen had kept out of
the kitchen as much as possible. And
row the rusty shelves and discolored
shelfpaper proclaimed the slackness
of her supervision.
"What's in this wooden box?
What’re all these rags?" Helen was
digging out the lower cupboard, while
Pussy Purr-Mew Bniffed at a defunct
mouse hole.
"Them’s my cleanin' things. The
stuff to clean the nickel and brass."
“This is what draws roaches.”
throwing away the stiffened, black
ened rags. "And don’t you use up
one can before you open another?"
the half used cans of hardened metal
paste attesting to Anna’s extrava
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gance. “And what’s all this back
here?”
“D’you want me to paint behind the
ice box?” interrupted the painter.
“Oh, yes that'll have to be moved.
Wait, we'll take those things off. If
I’d known you were coming this
morning, wo’d have had everything
ready.”
As the walls and woodwork of the
pantry, kitchen, and maid's room
were to be painted, leverything had to
be put into the dining-room.
“I can't get no dinner here to
night." protested Anna.
“No, I don’t expect you to. We’ll go
out for dinner. That roast will keep
until tomorrow. What’s these? A
pair of Mr. Curtis’ gloves? How did
they get out here?”
“That’s an old pair he threw
away.” she reddened. “I kept ’em to
use when I clean the stove—that pol
ish gets all in my hands."
They were only half worn—the very
pair that Warren had thought he lost,
Anna had deliberately taken them to
save her hands!
Helen kept back her Indignation.
Only one more week of Anna's In
competent and not over-honest ser
vices. There was no use having any
words.
Also the fear that Rhe might leave
at once, the dread of being left with
all the work of "having the painters,”
gave an added motive for repression.
Clearing out the kitchen cupboards
was /a discouraging task. Helen's
economical urge to "keep everything”
on the theory that It would some day
be needed, had filled the upper shelves
that ran to the celling.
Having only a few shallow closets
In the bedrooms, everything from a
trunk strap to broken picture frames
had been stored on these upper
shelves.
In a bungalow apron, dust cap, and
old gloves, Helen worked through the
nerve-racking day, stopping only for
a hasty lunch of milk and crackers.
Anna, however, insisting that she
felt "all gone,” had fried herself two
eggs and a generous portion of ex
pensive glass Jarred bacon.
Working ahead with exemplary
energy, Helen failed to hasten the de
liberate consumption of this hearty
meal.
The afternoon was even more try
ing. Helen's bead and eyes ached
from the stifling paint; and Anna, de
prtved of her usual from two-to four
leisure, grew more and more sulky.
When promptly at five the painter
gathered up his cans, the whole place
was in hectic confusion.
“I’ll leave these here by the sink,"
as he put his brushes in turpentine
and covered up his paints. "Start on
the dining room tomorrow.
"Then we'd better get the curtains
down now. we ll be so rushed In the
morning,” worried Helen, peeling off
her glove to rub her smarting eyes.
I "I’ll take them down," as Anna look
1 ed mutinous. "You hold the ladder."
i Helen precariously perched on the
ladder, was struggling with an ob
streperous curtain rod when tho hall
door banged. Surely not Warren bo
early!
"Holy smoke! What’s all this?" he
was standing in the dining room door.
"The painter," Helen scrambled
down, painfully conscious of the
smudge on her nose. "He came to
day Instead of Monday.”
“Whj> the Sam H1U did you pile all
this stuff In here?" glaring at the con
tents of the kitchen cupboards heaped
on the dining room table and floor,
"We'd no place else to put them—
he painted all the shelves."
"Looks like a cyclone. How In
blazes d'you expect me to eat In
here?”
"Dear, we cun't have dinner here
tonight. We'll have to go out.”
"The devil we will! I don’t feel
like going out with this arm.”
"Did it hurt you today?” anxiously,
for Warren’s right arm, fractured
three weeks ago, was still bandaged.
"Didn't feel any too good—raining
out, too. Now, I’m not going out
again!”
"I told her we would,” In a cau
tious undertone, as Anna retreated to
her room. "She’s been sulky all day—
she’d be furious if she had to get din
ner.”
"Well, what’s the matter with you?
Why can't you make an omelet, some
biscuits, and—”
"Oh, dear, I’m so tired! I had to
do most of this work—she shirked all
day.”
"It’s your bum management! Why
didn't you have her take some of those
things out yesterday? Always leave
everything till the last minute—then
wear yourself to a frazzle.”
"I didn’t know he was coming to
day! He wasn't to come until Mon
day.”
"Well, you’re a rotten manager
anyway. Jo%’C you do look a sight!”
“Oh, I know.” flushing and shrink
ing hack. "Those top shelves were
filthy—she hasn’t cleaned them since
she’s been here."
"Well, hustle and dress if we’ve
got to go out. I'm darned hungry.
Had mighty little lunch. It's 6 now.
How long'll it take you* Ten min
utes?”
"Ten minutes! You know I can’t
lathe and dress In 10 minutes.’’
"Now, there’s no time for a bath.
Wash your face and let it go at that.”
"Hear, I don't feel like dressing for
any big place. There’s a little tea
room just opened on the next block.
Couldn't we go there?”
"No, we couldn’t! I don’t want any
tearoom knick-knacks. I want some
real food—and enough of It. Hustle
now! I’ll give you Just 10 minutes.”
"I tell you I can’t In 10 minutes!”
her taut nerves rebelling. "I'm tired
enough to cry now. If you're In such ;
- .—-,,, - ■■ -- . . .
a fiurry for your dinner, you can go
out alone! I’ll have milk and crack
ers fiere. I’m too tired to eat any
way. But It Just shows how Incon
siderate you are!”
‘“Inconsiderate? How d'you make
that out? Because I want something
to eat after a hard day at the office?
Huh, I work all day with a broken
arm and come home to find the place
looking like hell and no prospect of
any dinner!”
At the plea of the broken arm,
Helen’s maternal anxiety surmounted
her resentment.
"All right/dear. I’ll be quick as I
can. We’ll go anywhere yau say."
But even as she rushed in to dress,
beneath h»r swift sympathy Was the
rankling consciousness that it was
she who must always yield. However
tired, however ill she felt, Warren al
ways managed to be the one who
must be considered.
It was ever a continuous ‘‘iriving
in” to his comfort, his convenience,
and his self-centered inclinations!
(Copyright, 192J.)
Next Week—Helen As An Interior
Decorator.
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ASK T II I |M A N WHO OWNS ONE
Cheam Parish Council Has
Dream of Tourist Influx
London, April 7.—At least one Eng
lish village is planning to pay its I
share of the war debt to America, and
incldently to rent a new town hall, by f
means of the money spent by Ameri ;
can tourists.
The Cheam parish council recently
decided to rent as a council chamber
a 4t)0-year-old cottage. Opponents of*
the scheme were silenced by a mem-1
bar’s proposal that the town clerk
should charge American tourists a
guinea to show them over the builds
mg.
The council has rented the house
and will now lie in wait for auch de
scendants of the pilgrim fathers as
reach Cheam next summer.
A party of Americans visited the
cottage last summer and made a gen
erous offer for the place, intending to
ship it bodily to the United States as
a specimen of fine old English archi
tecture.
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Albion—Stalker Garage.
Atlanta—Westfall Bros.
Broken B^w—Broadway Battery
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Central City—L. Haddix.
Central City—Cogswell Battery
Station.
Clay Center—F. C. Mundorff.
Coaad—Wm. Edwards.
Grand Island—Grand Island
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Harvard—Harvard Electric Co.
Hasting#—Howard L. Kay.
Holbr^-k—C. R Rehnke.
Imperial—F S. Ned row.
Kloten—Julian Ree.
I. trhfifld—G. W. Ians.
McCook—J. J. Gragg Auto Co.
MeCool—Gould Service Station.
Mason City—Mason City Garage.
Meadow Grove—A. E Har.ner.
Neligb—Snider Battery Station.
Oakland—Chas. Anderson.
O Neill—J. B. Mellar A Co.
Petersburg—Three P Garage.
Plainview—Keller Broe.
Platte Center—Platte Center
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Stanton—T. H. Namur.
Tekamah—B. O McDonald,
t'nadilla— W. E. Bassett.
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Getting at the
Heart of Things
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