I'HE BEE: OMAHA, TUESDAY, JULY 16, 1912.
11
H rjh e
Seeo
ILK HAT HARRY'S DIVORCE SUIT f Not as Easy .as He Looks
Copyright, 1912, National News Ass'n.
Drawn for The Bee by Tad
P - ' ' ( SAV FV THE tOv OP Mtic
HSAy CAN VOU U.F roj7HAiTArtOAMlN0HNLC f-.
ROWWv " Me HAVE JO MEM, VOO- CANT HNt A " sggu tAlilWN,
G0 I ISAVINECOIT . A SLANT AT" I UNfr
KNOCK , C- I . sfoU MtHrftC I V j 1 r- 5
"" 1 I
' manv wig calico M nsusei up I
II I mam' v v - r i n
The Wise Woman
A Woman of Forty Has the Right to Be Dead in Love
- With Her Husband It is Not Foolish or Silly. -
J
t)ar Wintired Black: , , , .
"What da you think of a woman 40
('cart old who Is so dead in love with
dor husband that she can't wait for the
biail to be distributed, hut stands in front
Ht. the . postoffice
h-indow like some
lovc-slck girl of
iweet 1.
'Tbere' a woman
IU;c that ' here at
(his summer resort.
Khe's -the 1 joks of
lh whol plaoe and
I ,iecl sorry for
lir, for she - is a
iiioe 1 woman in
c-ery other way,
Li:d a sensible one, '
uo. Do you think
I ought to 'tell her
not to let everybody
lee what a goose
the .isr about her
tulband. ,,,,, , ' WELL MEANING."
What do I thjnk of a woman 40 -years
.who ,1a, dead, in , love, with hechus
Mind? I think she's a' woman of sense
md a wotpan of brains and a woman
i'ho knows bow to get .the good out of
Ve, and if-,1 were. you I'd stop .feeling
lorry for her and fell sorry for . myself
Ind for every othr woman who Is fool
enough to let the girls of 1$ and the
tiiseinators of 30 or so. have all- the -fun
If , things. ,
t)p you know the sort of world that
romaa. you laugh at lives in, you poof,
blind, stupid, "well meaning" soul, you?
She lives In a world of sweet surprises,
Jlorious discoveries, splendid faiths and
oys. that are far beyond anything the
hice . little girl (who thinks she's dead
In love with Claud because Claud wears
uch perfectly lovely tennis clothes)
knows that there is no comparison be
tween them at all.
Ten o'clock in the morning! What does
that hour mean to you there at the
resort where you are spending the. sum
mer, tatting or crocheting? And you gos
bip there on the front piazza, don't you?
Lovely, uplifting, inspiring, thrlllingly
exciting, that sort of thing, isn't it? The
tvoman you laugh at doesn't hear one
Rord of It, she's waiting for the mail.
A fool' that"' woman? She's the only
feensible one among you all.
There's that friend of yours, the "wise
(R'oman"-oh, how wise she Is. So wise
that her tired eyes look all the time as
f she were in the most terrible torment,
and she can't smite a natural smile to.
fcaye her. life.
That husband of the wise woman she's
blfcays making fun of him, isn't she?
and taking the greatest pains to show
tvery one that she doesn't care the snap
of her finger about him. "
He'd like to be in love with his wife,
and he'd like to believe that she is in
love with him, if he is 40 years old and
tot particularly handsome. .' '
He'd like to remember the wise woman
Bs she was when he first met her, when
they were both ' y oungr and happy. ' He'd
like to. put a little halo of sentiment
around her rather stupid little head, but
the wise woman can never be ".fooled"
by any such gammon as that, not she.
Oh, she knows him, she knows all men,
khey are all frauds, every one of them,
all gay deceivers.
She lets her ' own particular gay de
ceiver see quite plainly- that he dbesn't
care a rap for him, but does care for his
check book, and lie is gradually growing
to be the very thing she expects him to
bo-Juat. because she does expect it.
She's the one who leads the laugh at
the woman who Is in love with her hus
band, isn't she? poor, silly, dull-witted
thing, she's missed all that is best In life
and is bragging about it
"Hurrah!" cried the blind man, "I'm
By WINIFRED BLACK.
stone blind, I don't have to be bothered
seeing sunsets and moonrises. A roae
looks Just the same to me as a black
eyed Susan. I never care whether lt't
dawn or dusk, it's, all the same to me.
I'm wise, really wise; I am blind, etone
blind, and I'm proud of It."
That's what the "wise women" are
like poor, blind thingsand they dare
laugh at anyone with the blessed gift of
sight! .
Sit at the feet of the woman in love
with her husband, well . meaning one, if
you really are "well meaning" and learn
wisdom the only wisdom of all the ages,
the wisdom' of love. '
W 5QUIBBS bOM DiCK HftD&CCN
THE ?IVCRHCAD FAIR. HE MAP
SOME COUP CASH 6A LTVD
DOWN AND HE TOLD THE OLD
GENT Me WAS OOm Tfl Be-
COMC AM AVlATOft.Si frffEW
PALf AND ORoffeO TO THE
FLOflft. WHfN HE WAS ftg-
viVEQ HE 9 HO U TCP ILL
6-1 V&S TO ANYONE WHO
CAN TELL ME H"r
rwe our diction Ar plain.
9
STCP BACK QviCKLY CwUD
THE CANYON H FltTHV
WITH INOIANSM
Bones- a man had mis 5iht
nthTQKEO UP To THE
INSTITUTE POrTMC BLIND
TP-DAY..
IMTELOCyrOfr,lS THAT 30.
BoNes-Yes swh. quite
AMIRxCLE TOO
INTERLOCUTOR- WEJ.L TELL
VS ABOUT IT.
BONES THE MAN HAD 0FfN
DLINO rOJT 29 YEA J
To-DV HE WAS AT LlNCH
WH6N SlODffNLY WE ,
PlCKEO HIS C uP AND
SAWS'''?.
i
0
i
MR.'fi-OS RYAN WtLL PAlAPlit
with That Touching BaIlad
linp us apivetiu Pay nw
THE UNDERTAKE? SHOP WAS
DAfTkC WKAVVWILLlr' THS ,
NicHT WATCHMAN "WAS
SOUND ASLEEP WE WAS
AWAKENED BY TME CRACfrfNW
Or ONE OPTHE COPPINS.
ACORP5E SPRUNG UP AND
LOOKING- WEARlE"STRArr
INTHEBTCS VELPED BfTFOTO
YOO-NAILMC UP WANT
TO ASK VOCl Aj VERY"
IMPOPTANTQUBSTJON.
"iFATOHfi STEP WAS
TO SEE A HORSE FLY
would a TexassTeei?
1 OH A) OOAKD WALK.
WAlSOtilTHE tiEEULEll
The Philosophy of Anger
An Angry Man, Like an Angry Lion,
Harms Himself More Than He Harms Others
. Angry Sparrow Kills Han.'
From- Huron, Randolph county. West
Virginia, comes news of one of the most
peculiar- deaths ever chronicled. Jacob
Loll, a prosperous farmer, who owned
and operated a farm of 117 acres near
that place; was the victim, and two
fighting English sparrows were the un
usual cause of his death.
Mr. Doll was sitting asleep in a large
old-fashioned hickory rocking chair on
the front porch of his home with his
head tilted back. Suddenly the sparrows,
which , had been fighting in midair,
swooped violently across the porch and
either, a beak or talon of one caught in
the flesh of the sleeping man's neck,
tearing a- large jagged wound and cutting
the Jugular vein.
By the time Mrs. Doll came to the
porch from the kitchen her husband lay
unconscious on the floor. Efforts to check
the flow of blood were futile and Mr. Doll
expired before a physician arrived.
Wheeling News.
Br GARRE7TT P. SERVISS.
A hot summer is on.
A still hotter political campaign Is com
Ing with it.
Now. is the time, before they actually
arrive, to- put a curb on one's temper.
Anger Is a doubly dangerous thing after
the- summer solstice. It catches fire from
the kindling atmosphere. It Is. Itself, a
fire, as Confucius averred, and heated
blood is like tinder to it. The spirit of a
man in anger is (ike flaming off In the
reservoir' of ' a lamp. Medical history Is
full of cases In which people have been
killed by the explosion of their own angry
feelings.
In, the brain of an angry roan the
trained cells have become an un gov
erned mob. They are like an angry man
that has lost its general and all Its of
ficers. Tho arteries are gorged with a
wild rush of uncurbed blood.
Anger is a kind of panic It paralyzes
intelligence. It blindfolds skill. The cun
ning swordsman makes bis opponent
angry, and then has him at hip mercy.
The pugilist who keeps his temper bat
ters his fellow' brute who loses It as it
he were a lump of putty. George Borrow,
in his famous fight with the "Flaming
Tinman," won the victory because the
"Flaming Tinman" got furious with
anger. Anger is. a Polyphemus with his
eye put out.
The children of anger are rage and
fury, which are born and full grown on
the instant, and the moment they appear
reason flies.' The man who is In a fury
-throws away his weapons without know
ing it. His shield falls; his sword snaps;
he cannot even see. his enemy, and strikes
wildly and at random. He is no longer
a man' but a raging brute. He has de
livered himself to folly. To give way to
anger is to throw away your brains and
sink to the level of the unreasoning
beasts of the Jungle. The angry lion be
comes the easy prey of the cool marks
man. .
Whatever you do in anger you always
repent of.' No more unworthy words
wore ever spoken of the Almighty that
those which represent Him as breaking
out in a blaze of wrath against those
who had offended Him. That is Impos
sible! to deity. In this regard the old
pagans were more respectful toward their
imaginary gods. They ascribed to them
many human weaknesses, but they did
not represent them as bursting into fits
of useless fury. Jove kept his Olympian
temper, and made sport of his enemies.
The most god-like quality that a man
can have is the ability to control anger.
"He that is slow to anger 1b better than
the mighty," and he that ruleth his spirit
than he that taketh a city."
"When angry count ten," and If still
angry count a 'hundred.
Discretion is half of every battle, but
discretion vanishes when anger comes.
The bases of anger are resentment and
Indignation. They are proper to men. It
is right to resent injustice; we must be
indignant at wrohg. Not to do so would
be to give free range to the spirit of
evil. AH the moral advance t'nat .trr
has made have been achieved by resent
ment and Indignation huM iu ltucii. ad
kept under- Control. Properly governed
they, are mighty forces for good; but
allowed to run wild they turn to anger
and become as dangerous as rabid dogs.
All philosophers, in all times, have ut
tered numberless warnings agannst anger.
"Anger," said Seneca, "Is like ruin,
which breaks itself upon that on which
It falls." Whosoever is out of patience."
said Bacon, "is out of possession of his
soul.". An angry man," said Solomon,
"stirreth up strife, and a furious man is
full of transgression."
Who does not feel the truth of the old
saying that "anger Is a short madness."
w mmm Mil
( Ja k-
( "
soul. The man who has struck down
his child In a fit of anger, repents en
bis knees, and he who has slain a fellow
man or ruined him in thoughtless wrath.
Is filled with remorse. But when has a
nation repented in sackcloth and ashes
for the wrongs that it has done, and the
cruelties that it has inflicted) , In . the
course of a victorious wa?
Anger is man's deadliest enemy, and It
houses In his own soul.
Hunting a Husband
The Widow's Aged Suitor Calls After She Has Dismissed
Mayniard, Whom She Cannot Forgive. ; ;
BY VIRGINIA TERHUNE VAN DEWATER.
" N Weather Talk.
"What I can't understand about you
people, said the man from Winnipeg,
"is the way you talk about the weather.
You are at It morning, noon and night.
It Is the subject of half your conversa
tion." "Why, don't you talk aUout it up
there?" was asked.
"In three years I don't think I have
heard the weather spoken of five times,
and then it was by American travelers."
"But you must talk of something."
"Oh, of course."
"If not about the weather, what
thn?"
"About taxes. They are raising up 5
mills a year on the valuation, ana an
the talk is about It. No, sir, not a word
about tho wtather, but where two peo
ple are gathered together "
"But It amounts to the same thing,
wm IntnrrUDted.
'Oh, no, sir. You know you have
to pay your taxes, while the blamed old
weather don't cost you a cent. Try our
way. and take no other.'-Baltimore
American.
JEFFBIES' FIHTING FACE.
But, perhaps, the best and truest defini
tion of anger was that of Confucius, who
said that it is a little fire which quickly
becomes a great one. When man appeals
to fire to fight for him he has thrown
away roason and hope.
If anger were kept under control how
many wars would thr be? It la the
great breeder of war. In was the fia of
anger become a conflagration. It spreads
like flames on a- dry prairie. Then fire
Is fought with fire. It can no longer be
put out with water. . Th water Itself
burns.
The greatest condemnation of the spirit
of war is the fact that It breeds and cul
tivates anger. It spreads the Infection
from individuals to masses of people.
The after scenes of a battlefield arc a
terrible commentary on the crime of giv
ing way to anger,. The greatest heroes
of war are the greatest brutes. When
Caesar's soldiers stormed Bourges they
"slew eyery human being that they
found men. women and children allks."
Out of 10,000 who were within ths walls
only 800, who had fled at the first sound
of the attack, remained alive! It Is an
admirer and defender of Caesar who
makfs this awful statement.
There Is this additional condemnation
of the anger that war arouses, vis., that
It Is not followed by repentance In the
same way that It is In the individual
THJ ANGRY LION BECOMES THE EASY PREY OF THE COOL
""" , " MARKSMAN, ,
Beatrice Minor sat at her writing table,
brows knit and Dpi compressed. This was
the day on which Robert Maynard had
promised to call, and she was writing to
him, oancellln ths engagement. A mes
senger, waiting In the hall Impatiently,
twirling a cap between restless hands
and a quantity of torn note paper In the
wastebaiket, gave evidence that It Is
not easy for a woman to write a certain
kind of letter.
Even now Beatrice hesitated at sever
ing all relations with the man whom
she had found charming, but the memory
of his bleared eyes and flushed drunken
face, wearing the expression aha had seen
too often on Tom Maynard countenance,
moved her slokenlngly and turned doubt
Into determination.
At last ths letter was finished. She
read it over carefully.
'My Dear Mr. Maynard: I regret that It
will bs impossible for roe see you this
evening. My plans are unsettled and
necessitate my asking ysu, not to call
hereafter without previous announcement.
"Very truly yours,
' "BEATRICE MINOR."
Ths writer felt a qualm of uncer
tainty as she handed the missive to the
Impatient messenger; a qualm whloh
had strengthened to doubt by the time
he had slammed the door behind him.
Having burned her bridges, she began,
woman fashion, to torture herself by
dwelling mentally . upon the advantages
of the now Inaccessible shore. One minute
she reproached herself for her Insin
cerity In not telling the man frankly the
cause of her displeasure, the next she
was regretting, against her better Judg
ment, that she had been so peremptory
and final in breaking off their friend
ship. And while she thus pondered, the tele
phone, as often before, sounded abruptly
across her musings.
"Hello," she replied hastily.
"Is Mrs. Minor in," asked a familiar
voice. It was Robert Maynard.
For a moment Beatrice hesitated.
Writing a letter of dismissal was one
thing; breaking with a man like May
nard by word of mouth was quia an
other. 'This s Mrs. Minor's maid, sir," she
replied in an assumed voice, and as
steadily as she could. "Mrs. Minor is not
at home at present" '
' "Thank you-rI'l try to pall up later,"
said the musculine tones.
With trembling hand Beatrice re
turned th receiver to Its hook and went
back to her drawing room, glancing guilt
ily at the kitchen door as she passed It,
wondering uneasily If the servant had
heard her prevarication.
When Jack and Jean came home to
luncheon the boy, after a grave look into
his mother's eyes, asked with a child's
keen discernment: "Aren't you well,
mother?"
"Certainly," replied Beatrice, forcing
hereolf to smile brightly. "Why do you
ask, dear?"
"You look kind of unhappy." remarked
the child.
At the S o'clock tea time Mr. Elanchard
came in.
"I ran In for Just a few minutes," he
announced, "to see if you are quite well
again today. You looked very bad last
night."
"I'm entirely well," smiled Beatrice,
"and somewhat ashamed of myself for
mj last night's weakness. Won't you sit
down and have a cup of tea with me?"
"I'm afraid I can't." demurred "Uucle
Henry," sinking, nevertheless, into
chair and glancing at his watch. "Helen
asked me to leave a note front her at a
house on Riverside drive, and." laughing
slyly, "this was en route. I hope," turn
ing suddenly grave, "that those boisterous
men at the table near ua last night did
not shock you, for"-
But Beatrice Interrupted him brusquely.
"No," she answered quickly, "and don't
let's talk of them! Have you ever eeen
the lovely view of the park I get from
this room?"
To divert her caller from the unpleasant
subject she accompanied him to the win
dow. He leaned out and looked up and
down the street and, at , sight of a
familiar figure approaching along the
pavement below him, he hastily drew In
his head.
"Yes, It's real fine u; here, Isn't It?"
be agreed hastily. "And now I must be
going, Mrs. Minor." .
Beatrice had not soeh the object that
caused his sudden discomfiture and was
somewhat pussled at her guest's flurry
of uneasiness.
"Oh, stay a little longer, won't you?''
site urged cordially. "The tea tray la..
coming In a minute."
"I wish I might stop longer." replied-;
Uncle Henry over bis shoulder as he,'
hastened down the hall. "But it's late'
and I've an errand to do and I have to
go. No. don't ring for the elevator." he
protested as Beatrice made an motion
toward the . bell. "I'll walk down-I'd
rather, really. Good-bye, my dear, good-,
bye!" . .' u
Beatrice looked after the scuttling form;
In perplexed amasement A moment Uteri
when the elevator left at her door Helen
Robblns, she was somewhat enlightened '
"Oh," she laughed In spite of herself.'
"I might have known you were com-;
Ing!"
"Why?" asked Helen suspiciously, s
she glanced about the drawing room, and
noticed the tea tray, which had Just,
been brought in, and the two cups rest
ing upon it.
Beatrice laughed somewhat confusedly.
"Perhaps," she said, "because two cups
means company, and Mary brought In'
two Just before you arrived."
"I wae wondering," acknowledged"
Helen, seating herself in an easy. chair,
"if I might not meet Uncle Henry here.
He was coming up to this part of town
with note I asked him to deliver, end,
he was so eager to act as my messenger.'
that I though perhaps he meant to stop
here." ' t
peatHce felt her friend's sharp eyes
upon her face, but she answered lightly,,,
"I don't think." she added, J-efiectively,
"that Mr. Blanchard has ever come here''
to afternoon tea. I wish he would. Two'j'
lumps, dear?" she asked, with the sugar
lumps poised In air above the cup of''
teaming tea. '
There was a short silence while the two",
women sipped their tea, each secretly
wondering what the other's thoughts ;
were at that particular moment. Then
Helen spoke. -
"My dear Beatrice." ahe declared. "I.
eould have gone through the floor with.';
shame and confusion the other afternoon
when Robert Maynard walked in Just a '
we were talking of him. I did not even
hear the front door open or close. Do.,
you suppose he heard what you eald while
he was out In the hall?"
"I don't care whether he did or not,
replied Beatrice, coldly. "Every word t1
said was true. And I'll tell him so to.
his face' If he ever speaks to me about It":'
"You youldn't do such a thing, wouldV
you?" gasped Helen.
"I certainly would!" said the widow
firmly. ''
Wre. Bobbins took the last swallow of,
tea in her cup, returned the cup to the
table, folded her hands, and, leaning'
back In her chair, eyed her friend Judi
cially. And Beatrice knew that' once
more she would be expeoted by ber'
match-making friend to gve an explana
tion of her seemingly raofd views of the
man who had, of late, occupied much ot
her waking thoughts. ,
FRENCH MOTHERS HELPFUL
AS MATCH MAKERS
"The late Margaret E. Gangster, poet'
and novelist." said a South Orange
woman, "believed that the American
mother didn't do enough, in a social"
way. for her daughters. She used to
contrast the European mother, always
straining every nerve to marry her girls
off well, with the American, who never
lifts a finger toward getting good intro
ductions for her own.
"I once heard Mrs. gangster Illustrate
the European mother's helpful cleverness"
with an anecdote about a Frenchwoman
whp wae entertaining a rich young manu-'
factum.
"As the woman talked with her guest,
her daughter began to play the piano qp-:
stalrs. ' -
" 'What wretched playing,"
i .- .
oi-n manuiaciurer, wno was
connoisseur. 'What is it?
" 'Oh, Just the cook,' the mother replied
quickly. 'We let her practice when her
work is done.' . !
"At lunch the rich manufacturer wa
delighted with the bouillabaisse, a very,
difficult dish of lobster and five kinds
of fish.
"'But this is exquisite!' he cried. 'It"
lakes me back to the Caneblere of Mar
seilles. Who made that superb bouilla
balsa r , , ,
"The mother answered, suavely:
" Oh. dear daughter made that-dldn't
you Angeler "-New York Times,
said the-
rather a
V'
