THE BEE: OMAHA, TUESDAY, AUGUST 27, 1912.
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Married Life the Third Year
Warren Objects to the Hotel Extras and Tell3 Helen
to Look Up Some Apartments.
Bj MABEL HERBERT URNER.
3. D
Room and attendance 4
Breakfast 2
Luncheons 0
Dinners 0
Service to room 0
Baths 0
Fires 0
Laundry , 0
4 .
2
12
15
7
19
4
18
Total 10 2 6
"Baths, nineteen shillings! How In
thunder do they get that?" demanded
Warren, as he frowned down at the
hotel bill he had just opened. ...
Helen, who was straightening up the
tray of her trunk, came and looked over
his shoulder. ,
"But you said they charged extra for
baths, dear."
"Of course," he snapped; "but not
that much. .It's only a shilling a bath,
and we haven't had more than two a
day. That'd be fourteen shillings. This
bill is for the week that ended Thurs
day, and two nights there you had tbn
silitis and couldn't bathe."
un, yes, i Datnea in we room, uon i
you remember, the maid brought In that
tin tub? I suppose they charge more
for that." - '
"Couldn't .charge enough to -make-nine
teen shillings.''- '" ; '
"Walt, dear. I think' I have one of the
hotel booklets. I brought It up last night
to send home."
It was a blue and gilt booklet, giving
views of ' the corridors and lounging
rooms, which somehow looked much more
luxurious than In the hotel.
Warren urned to the back, Where a
list of "tariffs" were given.
"Here we are. Baths:
Sponge or hip bath in bedrobm......0 6
Cold bath In bathroom 1 0
Hot or tepid bath in bathroom 1 6
"The devil! If they don't charge 6
pence more, if you have your bath warm.
Like to. know how they can tell after you
get in the bath room whether you take It
hot or cold."
"But, dear, the bath rooms are kept
locked and the maid prepares the baths.
She runs In hot or cold, Just as you say
doesn't she?"
Well, what's to prevent you from say
ing cold, then, when you get It, turn on
the hot water and save the 6 pence?"
"Why, that could be done," admitted
Helen, wonderingly; "couldn't it?"
"Course It could. And your English
men are so thick headed they'd never
think of It."
"But perhaps, they think any one who
comes to this hotel wouldn't do a thing
like that for 6 pence." "
"The deuce they wouldn't! The Eng
lishmen look qut for their 6 pences, all
right. They're about as close-fisted as
they make 'em."
He threw down the booklet, took up the
blli and figured a few moments on the
back of it.
"That's it that makes the 19 shillings.
They've charged us 1 and 6 for every
blessed bath."
"But, dear, they were warm baths.
Neither of us took them cold."
"Huh, and you think I'm going to pay
that extra 6 pence for a dash of hot
water? I'll put up a kick on that, and
a mighty strong one, too." He slipped
the bill in hie pocket. "I'll see about this
after breakfast. Hurry up now; do you
know Its 8:30 o'clock?"
"Yes, dear; I'll be ready In a moment."
' Then I'll go down and order. What
do you want -bacon and eggs?- That
seems to be the regulation breakfast."
When a little later Helen Joined War
ren downstairs In the restaurant he was
so absorbed in a newspaper that he did
not see her until she had slipped into the
seat opposite.- -
"Look here," handing her the paper and
pointing to a column headed "Flat?,
Chambers and'TJpper Parts to Let.", "If
I m to be over here a month longer, why
shouldn't we take a small furnished flat
Instead of being 'done' by these con
founded hotels? When I. was here before
I had what they called 'bachelor's cham
bers' on Hanover Square. And it was
mighty comfortable. oo not half of what
we are paying here. We could have our
oivn bath and live like dvllixed beings,
instead of being cooped up here In .one
room, washing our faces In those blamed
china bowls and sneaking out as if we
were going to rob a hen roost every time
we took a bath."
"But, dear, how about service? And
we'd have to have breakfast."
"CW,; you tan always get that in Lon
don. If they don't have regular service,
Merc's always the Janitor's wife or some-:
bvdy .'wlioM! . look- after . you. But we'll
was not brought or.," "bring us some of
those toasted muffins."
After breakfast Helen went up to their
rcom to put on her hat and veil. When
she came down Warren was still standing
at the desk, in angry dispute. Then he
drew out his wallet and clanged some
gold pieces down on the counter.
"Just receipt that, will you? You've
got your prices for your baths, and
you'll get your room with it. We'll find
some place where it costs less to keep
clean."
The clerk made some murmured apolo
getic remark about "the regular rates
of the hotel." But Warren pocketed the
receipted bill and strode over to Helen.
"Ready?"
Outside he unfolded the paper to the
"Flats, Chambers and Upper Part."
"Now this is your Job for the day.
Cut out the sightseeing and look up an
apartment. I'd go with you if I had
the time, but I haven't; so you'll have
to go alone. We'll not stay in that
hotel after tomorrow. I'll teach that
manager a thing or two about Ameri
cans." "But, dear, I know so little about
London. How can I find an apartment?"
"Dead easy! I'll mark a few of these
places that look promising,' so' ydu won't
get into any off-colored peighborhood.
Now, here," as he took a pencil, and
began at the top of the list ,
A LADY wishes to let her . really ex
quisitely furnished balcony flat at once;
reception, two bedrooms, bath; piano,
plate and linen. Apply High St., Ktjn
ington. "That's a .good one to try flrs. Al
most any of those buses marked "Ken
Blngton" wlU take you right there. Here's
another."
"But, Warren, we can't stand here
on the street and go over this. Can't
we go somewhere and elt down?"
"Nonsense; I haven't time for that.
Now, listen to this
HANDSOMELY furnished flat; sitting,
bed and bath room;' S gns. p. w. incls.
attendance, Bervlce and valeting; ex
cellent catering; moderate tariff. Had
don Mans, 18 Clifford, off Bond, Picadiliy.
"That sounds good, and It's central
too. I'll mark that. Now here's an
other: FULHAM MANSION, Fulham road,
Southwest beautifully appointed fur
nished flats; lift, speaking tubes, liveried
porters, children's playground, clubhouse
with two billiard tables. All Putney
buses pass the door. Ring up 267 Mayfair.
"Afraid that's too far out. Now here's
one in South Kensington.' I'll mark that.
Here's another near Oxford Circus. And
here's one on Eussell Square. No," rub
bing out hiB last pencil mark, "Russell
district Is overrun with Americans,
'School teachers' heaven,' they call it.
We'll keep clear of that. Here's a place
on Victoria street; that's a good lo-.
cation. It's up by Westminster. Now
I've marked down several here. Guess
that's enough to keep you going for to
day." "But, dear, give me some idea of what
we ought to pay."
"Well, you ought to get a pretty good
furnished flat for about four or five
guineas a week, Then, of course, we'd
went breakfast served in the room. That
shouldn't be more than two , shillings
apiece four shillings a day for break
fast. But if you find the thing you like
don't stand on the price. A few shillings
more or less won't matter. Now I'll
have to hustle. You take a Kensington
bus from here and try that first place.
There's one coming now,"
There was a dozen questions that Helen
wanted to ask, but she had no time, for
he put her on the bus, waved a hurried
goodby, and then Jumped on another bus
going In the opposite direction.
t As Helen rode toward Kensington she
read the advertisements Warren had
marked, and many others. There. was a
certain charm in the quaintness and un
usual ness of the wording. What would
these places be like? .
Ever since she was a child Helen had
always pictured places In advance, and
now she tried to picture fhese. She had
read a few English novel in which the
scenes had been laid In bachelor halls or
chambers, and from which she was now
unconsciously drawing her pictures.
But the romance and adventure of it all
was somewhat clouded by the. feeling of
responsibility. Warren expected her to
find a suitable apartment. 8he must not
disappoint him.' She must not admit that
she was less capable than he thought
er. - . '
"High street Kensington!" shouted the
conductor.
Helen climbed oui. She paused on the
corner, again looked at the advertisement
nc fll have a talk with the cleik here I to be sure of the number, and then up
Hid fihjt nut what Wll dj about these! nnd down rnt strett to ste which way
ltS,.fn tut ) keen on moving, but j the numbere ran.
I wmi.t I 'll iiif wM'r any such overcharge j Her fir&t day of flat hunting In London
t.i iiiAl. U-ix, wuHtr," as Uo breakfast j had begun.
I &Ef1TLEMCN BF AfATFn
I TA-RA-RA-RA
NlSTAtt TOHNSOrt- CAN YOU TLL
NC HOW MUCH GOAL IT TOOK TO
Kin vi CLERMONT, DE FUST
STEAM A.H, PROM NEW YAWK to
A I RAN V
INTERLOCUTOR- CAN I TELL YOU
HOW MUCH COAL IT TOOK TO
RUN THE CLERMONT eram
MEW YORK TO ALBAMY. NO TAMBO
how nucH did it take
TftMBO- IT TOOK ONE FULTON.
UNCLE MOE win NriiiciN
' "WI! riltu
W FEED THE BABY GARLIC SO
WE CAN FIND H IM IN THE DARK,"
AS THERE ISNO&AMC 50 fclLOJ
THAT THRE ARC NOT feOME PCOPLE THAT
ARE EXPERTS AT IT.
Yep ivn Got anothep
ONE NOW. IM OFTitF
OYINACOTTniM
OFFICE, no
VOHT HAVE TO fT
POWN TILH.30
THE'N IfiCT OUT Al i
LTHC POCK'S BQt-KHC
THE DUCHE5S OF CANNOT WAS
ui-rwinv IMC tOTTILLON AT
THE EMBASSY BALL HUNGRY
HHTIK WHO HADNT TICKLED
HIS WI5H50NE WITH A HAM
SANDWiCH SlNCJt rue n .
WAR SLIPPED BY THE BUTLER
nnv uvjttD HIS WAY TO THE
PANTRY. JJT AS UF aacl
- - - risr
ABOUT TO RAP HIMSELF AROUMJ
AN IMITATION FILET mignon
THE" JANITOR S-RABBEh wim
AND CHORTLED
MOST BOATS
- r-nb unuc
OF WOOD AND IRON BUTTHCfiTS
" " PALLS TUAT
HaiD OF THE MIST
THEM THEN I WAIT
TlU- 10 O'Ct-OC
TILL THE" MARKET
OPENS GET THE
CLETAfcf No MOOSC
OM-LS MflkC UPTMp
S-HtET. SETTLE AC6XJ-
MtnT3 WITH TWER
PAN IPS -
PROF.TINKERTRUNK THE MAN WHO
invert ICV WKttntrC JUICC AMD
APPLE SAUCE WAS LEAVING
HIS LIBRARY FOR TUZ LECTURE
To the Pupils on the Funi .
UTION OF THE DOUGHNUT
wirtc TOMMY TUN WH7?eD
A &N0WDA1.I. ATHIM bTRiw
HIM ON THE KNOB. THE PftOK
0& UP HASTILY A NO WITH
HIS HAND N HIS BREAST
GRAVE CY SfKt
IF A LATW WANT r&Btv
HER LITTLE DAlfrHTSft WILL
TUB. mail-carrier:
HERE5 yoiRSMUFF
GRANDMA
TAKE HALF AN
HOUR FOR LUNCH
RUN A ROUND TO THE.
BANK'S TUL.3. SEND
out THE- Mail till
eight and i am a -
-ways home by
Fl FVFtsi
" 1 h
&EE
YOURE A
HATPY
GUY
ii
A
t YEP
"OTHlri
todotilU
TO-H0(?R0y
The Use of a Great Man
One Has Recently Died in France, and People
Are Inquiring What He Was Good for,, ,t
By GARHETT P. SEKVISS.
A grand funeral was given in Paris
a couple of weeks ago to Henri Poln
care, of whom, probably, many readers
of these lines have never heard. The
procession to the grave was imposing.
There marched, bare headed, through the
streets, between' sidewalks crowded with
spectators, most of whom respectfully
removed their hats, a long double line of
the most distinguished living Frenchmen.
When the grave was reached impressive
discourses were pronounced by M. Guist'
hau, who spoke for the government and
the university; by M. Claretie, who rep
resented the famous Academie Fran
chise; . by M. Palnleve, who was the
mouthpiece of the Academy of Sciences,
and by many others whose names are
better known to the public than was that
of the subject of their discourse. 't
All the newspapers were filled with
praise of the dead man, and all the il
lustrated journals printed portraits of
him. Everybody was assured, and the
assurance was repeated from mouth to
mouth that France had lost orui of her
greatest lights whose renown would il
lustrate the pages of its history. Every
body felt proud because his country had
produced so mighty a genius.
But a singular fact soon became evi
dentviz., that among the hundreds of
thousands who repeated the praise of this
Immense genius hardly any one had a
definite Idea of what he was or of what
he had done. They only knew that some
how he had been a 'great man.
During his lifetime it was said that
there were only two or three men in all
Europe who could comprehend him.
It is almost certain that among those
who pronounced eulogiums at his tomb
there was none who could follow his work
with complete understanding. Most of
them did not know even the A-B-C of it.
For Henri Poincare was a very great
mathematician, perhaps, the greatest
since Laplace and Lagrange, whom Na
poleon, wtih his vast practical genius,
could not understand. For most people
mathematics, in its.. higher forms, is a
closed book.
Naturally, then, after the first sensa
tion caused by the departure of this great
genius had died away the question began
to be asked: "What was he good for after
all?"
That question has been asked, and
rather indefinitely answered. In many
newspapers. It cannot be answered by
giving a list of his 1,500 works, for even
the most popular of them, like the book
on "Science and Hypothesis," are full of
things which only the expert can read
uiiderstandlngly, while most of them are
addressed to the elite of science, the nar
row inner circle, to enter which requires
extraordinary talent and years of appli
cation. But it does not follow that some answer
cannot be given.' The best answer Is two
fold. In the first place, one great use of
such a man as Poincare Is the stimula
tion which he imparts to the average
human being. He awakes the ambition
of the race by showing of what it is
capable. He Is the man on the top of
the apparently Inaccessible mountain, who
by his mere presence there, shows to
others the possibility of ascending it. He
Is like the late Kdward Whymper. waving
his cap from the summit of the terrible
Mattel hum. Any tody with good wind
ajid strong muxcles can ascend the Mat
terhorn now, because the way is known.
lillli ( I ilrrv&- NTsiinl t'ltiil
lIS'llJii If" v Y fill IH
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mmm i k-aj mmm
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m:- i ir"'
V'
13 ri p v'V Vm
t-sl
HENRI POINCARE IN HIS STUDY.
But Poincaire would never have given
an Impetus to his fellow beings if he had
not, like Niwton before him, and like all
great men, disclaiming the possession o(
any superhuman power. Newton said
that all he had done seemed to him but
as picking up of a pebble on the shore
of the boundless ocean of knowledge, and
Poincaire declared that the mind of man
Is only a flash of lightning, Illuminating
for a moment a part of the Illimitable
expanse around.
But these flashes succeed one another,
and the race, as a whole, retains a little
of what each reveals and adds to It that
which has already been acquired. What
was revealed to the genius of the great
French mathematician was not always
perfectly clear even' to .himself, while for
the majority of men it was but a flash
In the night which showed them nothing.
His successors, guided by the glimpses
he had, will make It all clear, and thus
the domain of knowledge will be ex
tended. In the second place, the usefulness of
such a man as Poincaire consists In the
actual additions that he made to knowl
edge. These additions were purely mathe
matical and Incapable of popular ex
planation, but there are men who can
understand them, and who, with their
successors, will, upon the basis which
he left, erect a new edifice of science
which all can enter and admire. There
was a time when Newton's "Prlnclpla"
was as far beyond tjje Intellectual reach
of the average man as Polncalre's most
abstruse work Is today, but now, thanks
to the advance which It, Itself, Inspired,
any boy In college, with a mathematical
gift and proper application, can read the
whole "Prlnclpla" understanding. In
fact. It lias been displaced by more, recent
work, just as Polncalre's achievements
will be superseded In the future.
Gr;tt men of this stamp are the
pioneers of the human Intellect, and
happy Is the country that can produce
one In a century. . It Is the Napoleons,
whose work is easily understood, that
get the great monuments; It Is these other
(renluses. whose own times hardly know
them, that uplift the race.
lirrond F.ven Ty t'obli.
The base ball reporter's English is
weird and wonderful, and apropos of It
there is a story about the great Ty Cobb.
In a New York hotel two college pro
fessors watched Ty ,Cobb bent ovr a
newspaper.
"Look at that poor fellow's frowns and
mutterings," said the first professor,
"with that journal."
'"Yes," said the other, "he can't make It
out, you know." ,
"Can't make It out, eh? Can't even
road! These base ball players! I knew
they were an uneducated lot."
"Oh," said the other, "Ty's educated
all right enough; but that's the base ball
page he's got there." Washington Star.
Hrr Ambition.
Dr. Lyman Abbott, who opposes votes
for women, was praising, on a southern
steamer, a young Vassar girl.
"She delighted me," he said, "In a
chat I had with her yesterday at tea.
We talked poets, we talked about the
new morality and the militant suffra
gette, and finally I said qufMUally :
"'And what, may I ask, Is th height
of your ambltloi?' j
" 'Six foot two,' she answered unhesi
tatingly, 'and he's the best first base
Yalevard's had for seventeen ye,rs.'"
Judge. ' ,
The Knd.
"Myrtle can you cook?"
"No, Lionel; tan you afford to keep a
motor car?"
"No, dear."
So they did not marry and they lived
happily ever afterward, Chicago Tribune.
Woman and Economic Problems
J
By DOROTHY DIX.
xify
kTV f
I
I
1. T
It Is the fashion with certain writers
nowadays to call every woman who does
not earn her own living outside of the
home, "a parasite.".
This term of re
proach Is even being
applied to the wife
and mother who
cooks and scrubs
and sews and mends
and baby tends, and
who works eighteen
hours of the twenty
four at the never
ceasing labor ' of
making a home and'
rearing a family. To
the lay mind It
would seem that If
anybody on the face
of the earth earns
her board and keep
and Is not a depen
dent, but a self-supporting
member it
society, it Is such a woman.
This appears, however, to be an er
roneous Idea of the matter, and the
poor domestic drudge who works her
self to death In her own home is be
ing denounced In scathing terms as a
parasite, a despicable .leech who lives
on her husband and permits herself to
be supported by him.
In a recent magazine article an over
enthusiastic writer on this subject cries
shame upon the parasitic wife and
mother who does nothing but give her
very life to her family, "and bids her to
get out Into the world and earn an hon
est living. ...
One could smile at such balderdash
as this, except that It so unjustly and
unjustly belittles the great work for which
women were created and fans into flame
the growing discontent of the' feminine
sex with Its lot.
It la a bromide to say that the welfare
of humanity rests upon the stability of
the home, and that the womnn who
brings up noble sons and daughters has
made the most precious gift possible to
the world. It can do nothing but harm
to teach this woman that her work Is
not worth while, that It Is without dig
nity and that she who Is only wife and
mother Is a figure of contempt
The majority of women are only too
much of that opinion already. And In
that attitude lies the great tragedy of
the average woman's life. Her work of
making a home, of making a man's hap
piness and comfort, of rearing children,
has never been recognised as the greatest
work to which any human being may
turn a hand, as the greatest career that
any ambition might pursue, or even as
just a plain trade that was worth paying
for.
We actually speak of the woman who
is enguged in this tremendous labor as
being "supported" by her husband. We
regard her as a dependent, and she has
no financial status. She draws no wage
for her services, and even the govern
ment census report refuses to enroll her
amonfr those women who are engaged In
"gBlnful occupations."
No wonder the Indiscrimlnating and
those without a sense of humor call her
a parasite. No wonder that she even
looks upon herself as one.
To any one who watches closely the
feminist movement It It evident that the
hardworking domestic woman has re
volted at this Insulting classification of
herself with the vampires of society, and
that In the future there must.be a new
adjustment of the economic problem be
tween husbands and wives.
With their growing freedom In other
matters It becomes more and more hu
miliating to wives to be forced to go to
their husbands and ask, like beggars, for
every penny they spend. Every woman
with no pocketbook with an envy that
turns her thoughts toward the outside
world. The wife shows that she labors
harder than the business or professional
woman, and that her services are better
worth paying for1, and she rebels at trje
injustice that makes her a dependent,
subject to the whims of her husband.
It does not take any prophet to foresee
that the Job of wife has got to have a pay
envelope attached to It hereafter, or else
women will follow the advice of those
who tell them to put their children In
creches, or some other kind of Institution
designed for Incubating" human chicks,
and that they will go away from home
and follow some pursuit that will furnish
them with at least enough money to pre
serve their own self-respect
This would be a most unfortunate state
of affairs, since the consensus of experi
ence shows that no scientific care of
children can take the place of mothering,
and also that women succeed best in the
occupations that belong to them by rea
son of their sex.
It is folly to talk of any woman making
a real home, and being a feal mother In
the fullest sense of the term, and follow
ing a career, or carrying on a success
ful business at the same time. No
woman has the health or the strength,
to do both, to say nothing of the im-'
possibility of giving all of ones time,
nnl. thnnohi an1 antra t Inns, and honnS.
to two divergent things at the same time. .
No hired housekeeper, however compe
tent, no trained nurse, however skilful;
no governess, however faithful! can take
the place of a wife and mother In the .
household, or give to a home Just that '
brooding atmosphere of love and tonder
ness that a home must have to be a sue-,,
cess. It takes the one Woman In all he
world to whom, the house Is the be-all'
and end-all of life to make the real home,;
This Is a woman's ancient occupation, ;
the one she was ordained to by nature,
and in following which she finds not
only her greatest happiness, but her (
greatest profit, for few women can sup.
port themselves as comfortably as they ;
live In their huBband's home.
But the bread of Independence Is sweet;
and the cakes and ale of dependence blt-J
ter.'and henceforth the domestic woman'
position In the family must be recognised
as that of one of the partners In the"
firm,, not as a hangr-on, who takes what
stray coins are thrown her way, and is
expected to be graterui ,.ror Detng sup..;
ported. '
In a word, wife and mother Is going,"
In Ktrllco for her own. She Is tired Of ;
being called a parasite when she worka "
naraer man anyooay eise in me mmuy. t
Rut If hn ever rives un the cook stov .
inn inn rranm lor inei uean miu ma i?uv
writer it will be because men have driven
her to it '
The Manicure Lady
"I guess that now, George, ' said th.
Manicure Lady to the Head Barber,':
"Wilfred has got the right Idea at last--'
at least, as near as I can figure it. He -.
has almost got the third act of what I
think Is a wonderful play about Artsona, 4
It tells about a English gent that got the
can tied to him at home and then went
out Into the deserts of the great south-'
west to start a ranch. That's Just like -
KTriffnan in ur ..n ra a irmmr nil, .mm v
rieHart to start a ranch. I sunoose .hW
inougni mat 11 uiun i manei a , "K r
wneiner or noi ne ibidou ny luuuer im -
anything of that sort, Just so he had
ranch. If there Is anything a Englishman,
likes In America. George, It Is to go out '
onto a ranch In one of them deserts and'J
look at the burning sands after he has ;
planted a little garden sass which Is nevett-
golng to come UP. a"a atter ne na.j
turned a few sheep loose on the ranch
of sand, and a few chickens. Then, afte -the
garden sass doesn't come up on hls
ranch, and after the sheep and the chick'-
ens have died, he takes all his remittance
checks, says, 'That's Just like America, V
and goes back to New York, where he:
may not get some sort of a clerical job.
and alt that sort of thing.
"But, as I was saying. George., wik
fred Is writing this play about a rancher;
In Arlsona, and in the climax of the play
It tells how the English rancher Is about,
to die of thirst. Brother is In deadly r
earnest this time, George, and I wouldn't
be a lot surprised If he puts one over at
last He Is so much In earnest that he Is ;
going without water to get the real feel
ing of thirst. You see, George, the poor
boy ain't got the price to go out on ie ;
Ariiona desert and get the real local
color, so he has to lay off on the drink
ing and pretend that he is one of them
thirsty prospectors."
"I don't think that fasting and drinking
is going to give no writer the regular
local color," said the Head Barber.
"Pa doesn't think so, either," aid the
Manicure Lady. "Of coure, George, any
girl or gent with one eye could see why
father would be against a course of
denying thirst.' Thirst Is one of the best
pals that the old gent ever had, and It
would sure take some stretch of Imagina
tion to Imagine father ever becoming?
enough of a seeker after the local color .
for a play to keep him with a parched
throat. Goodness knows. George, that in
dear old dad's Whole career he never
went to bed with a parched throat, and,
when he wakes up in the morning, whea
all them sparrows is chirping. Ws throat :
only stays pached long enough to let the
bellboy come up the hall with the ioe that
clinks In the pitcher." :."
"I hope the kid makes a hit with hi
piay," said the Hear Barber. ;. ;
"I hope so, too. George. He has to
raise $60 the first of September to keep'
up his lite Insurance policy, and every
time he looks at me I can see in hi
eyes that "twelve-pound look." ,
- '. Versatile. ''
Mrs. Muggins I hear your husband 1V
quite versatile. -v
Mrs. Kuggios wny, ne can actually,.,
stay out late every night In the week ani
not give th same excuse twice. Phlla
Uelphia .Record.
