THE BE: OMAHA, FIJI DAY, SEPTEMBER '27. 1!M J.
11
The JJee',
P MaiaZjirP Pa
fln
5 C
SILK HAT HARRY'S DIVORCE SUIT
The Judge Takes Luther Up the Line
Copyright. 1912. National News Ass'n.
Drawn for The Bee by Tad
u TO TMC
A Jritou. op me
TH6T VOO UFeffU
"
comc vp
VffJT OOP
vmsr
jnep e
Married Life the Third Year
Warren's Rage at the English Laundries Makes Them
Late for Church.
By MABEL HERBERT URXER,
"What in thunder's thiit'.''' demanded
Warren with sleepy Irritation.
"Wait, dear,-I'll see," and llele, slip
ping; Into her dressing gown and, slippers,
(hurried Into the
Ms
front room, at the
'door of which there
waB a vigorous
knocking.
"It's the laundry,
ma'am," as alio
held the door open
a few Inches
inquiringly. She
opened it wider and
a large basket was
thrust through.
" Nice time to
yieliver laundry,"
growled Warren as
jHelen came back
iinto the bedroom
dragging the heavy
basket. Haven't
they sense enough
to know people
want to sieep Sunday morning?"
basket. "Haven't they sense enough to
know people want to sleep Sunday ' morn -
lnK?" -? ". ,' .' . "
"But, dear, It's time to get up anyway,'"
glancing at' his watch on the stand be
side the bed'. "It's half past, eight.'"
"What if it is? Got nothing to do this
morning," and he turned over heavily.
"Draw down that shade there, will you?
I'm going to take another nap."
"Why, Warren, we're going to services
at St. Paul's!"
"Then go ahead and dress, I'll be ready
In time."
When Helen came In from her bath,
Warren was still . sleeping soundly. She
waited until 'she was almost dressed be
fore she awoke him.
"Uh?" bllnkllngly. "What time?"
"It's almost nine now."
"All right. You order breakfast. Tell
them to serve It in half an hour. I'll, be
ready. And hand ' in those shoes out
there, will you?"
When Helen opened the door to get the
shoes she saw several other pairs down
the hall. Evidently the English were not
early Sunday morning risers. I
Helen now went into the front room to
do her hair, so that Warren might have
the bedroom to himself. When he
wished he could bathe, shave and dress
In recqrd time. And the breakfast had
not yet been served when he came in
looking fresh and vigorous from the
morning's grooming.
"What's the matter? Breakfast not
up?" :
"Not yet, dear. I suppose everybody
has breakfast served in their rooms on
Sunday and it takes longer."
"Where's the papers?"
"I didnt see any. There wasn't any at
the door."
"That's always the trouble over here.
It's so Infernally hard to get a Sunday
paper; It's about time some enterprising
American came over and started a daily
with a Sunday edition."
"Why, don't all the papers have Sunday
editions?"
"None of 'em. Didn't you know that?"
"But we had papers last Sunday?"
"Yes. The Referee and The Observer.
But they're weeklies. Not connected in
any way with the dailies. I'll go down ,
and see if I can get one now."
While he was gone for the paper Helen
went Into the bedroom and opened up the
laundry. She spread the clothes out on
her Ust;
"Dear, there's two of your collais j
missing," she called out when she heard i
Warren enter the front room again.
"What's ' that?" coming to the door j
with some papers in his hand. "Here," i
throwing her: a copy of The. Referee, j
"Doesn't look much like a Sunday new- j
paper, does it? whatd you say about
those collars?"
"Why. dear, they've only 6ent back
eleven and J had thirteen on the list."
But Warren did not seem concerned
about the missing collars. He had picked
up one of the shirts and was glaring at
it furiously.
"hook at that shirt, will you? Just
look at it! I knew these English laun
dries were rotten, but never saw any
work like this." He threw down the
bhlrt and took up some collars. "And
look at these! Here," ' shaking one at
her angrily, 'w'hat'd yon think of that?
And look at the rest of 'em see those
frayed . edges and torn buttonholes?"
"That's pretty bad work," admitted
Helen.
"Bad it's rotten! Why. they're not
even clean. You can see the dirt under
the starch. Think I'll weai collars like
that?"
"Shall we send them back, dear?"
"Fire 'em back first thing In the
ntng. Why, they're not washed at
all-just glossed and polished up. Look
like celluloid. And the shirfc-look at
the shin on that bosom! By Gad, they
noed an American laundry over here
worse than they need a Sunday news
paper." "Oh, there's the breakfast," and Helen
hurried In to open the door for the maid
with a loaded try. Then she helped her
draw out the lUtle folding table and
spread the cloth.
"Where's my dress shirts?" called
Warren. "Didn't I have any in this
week?"
''Oh. yes, dear, two, I think. Aren't
they there? ' But do come in and have
breakfast. We can look at those after
wards." "We'll look at them right now." Then
a moment later. "I don't see any dress
shirts here."
"Oh. Warren!" a.i Helen hurried In to
find him pawing over the clothes that
Were still in the basket. "You're muss
ing everything up. Walt. I'll get them."
-. "And that's the way they do up a dress
hlrt," he fumed as he took one over to
the light. "Just look at that, will you?
Is this one of. my new ones?"
"I don't know, der," anxiously.
"That's just what it i?-and It's ruined:
Well, they'll hear from me about this,
all right. I'm not going to pay 15 for a
shirt and have it ruined the first time
it's laundered. Look at the way they've
ironed those plaits! By jove. they
scorched it. too! Where's that other dress
shirt?"
: "Oh, Warren, do come in and have
breakfast first. Everything's getting
cold."
"Where's that other shirt?"
Reluctantly she found it in the basket,
but Its condition only increased his rage.
"How about your things?" he de
manded sharply.
"Oh, they're not done so badly," anxious
to conciliate him.
"Let's see some of 'em. What's that
over there?"
"Just a night gown. And it's only an
old one It doesn't matter."
"Huh, they stick a piece of pink paper
under the lace to make you think It's a
fine job. How's this? Do you call this
done well?" taking up one of her shirt
waists. VHow about those tucks?"
"But dear, they've only charged a six
pence for the shirtwaists 'blouses'
they've called them and all the laun
flrles at. home charge at -least a quarter.
Your pajamas are only S pence and my
night gowns only 4 pence. You can't ex
pect very good work at those prices.
"Cheap?" Call it cheap to have your
clothes ruined? Where's some note
paper? I'll write a letter to those people
that'll make 'em sit up."
"But not before breakfaefy' pleadingly
"Warren, everythlng'll be stone cold."
But Warren was already In the front
room, pushing the breakfast table aside
so he could draw a chair tip to the desk.
Helen sat down to the table, but she
had no heart for breakfast alone. She
felt the coffee pot; It was already cold.
Then , phe waited resignedly until he
turned around with a
"Now listen to this:
"The Devonshire' Laundry. 192 Victoria
street. S. W.-Dear Sirs: When I send
clothes to be laundered, I expect to have
them returned clean with the dirt
washed out, not glossed over with starch.
You may be able to do rotten work over
here and get away with It, but It won't
go with Americans. Now I'll give you
another chance to do better with thi
lot. If It does not come back In first
class shape I'll go' over It and send you
a bill for the damages. If need be, I'll
spend money to collect It and show you
up. Very truly,
"What about that, eh? Guess that'll
make 'em sit up. Now you bundle those
things back the first thing in the morn
ing and this letter with 'em."
' He drew his chair up to the table now.
and handed over his cup for some coffee
"Dear, I don't think you can drink
it," as she poured it out. "it's all cold."
"Cold? I should say so. Here, ring foi
that maid. We'll give her a shilling and
have her heat it up."
The eggs were cold, too, and Warren
Insisted on ordering them fresh.
' "It's Sunday morning and I'm going to
have a decent breakfast."
But tt was 11 o'clock before they were
through.
"Oh. Warren, it's too late now to go
to St. , Paul's. The services would be
over before we could get there. Oh,
I'm so sorry you stopped to write that
letter!" '
"Well, I'm not," settling himself com
fortably with a cigar and a paper.
"Giving that laundry a piece of my mind
did me a darn sight more good than any
services at St Paul's." . i
.- TRPE&GBOtfVOUTO1
DOOT?S AMD DOORS RE MADE
OUT OF TR-EES.'
IT WAS SNOWIK6 LltfE SIXTY.
AISOTWAS BUTE J? COLD, ft
LrfTLt CWEEIi-D STOOD IN THE
5TREETCT?VIN6 BITTERLY. AL0N6J
CAME ASTEANSEfc.Mc WORC
A GREAT PUR COAT AND A
Lh&GE BLACK HAT. TWASMONd
OTHER THAN bLI M ?,flM THE
SILVER KINS. PLACING HIS
HftNO ON. THE LITTLE ONC
HEAD VHV ARE YOU CRYIN&
LITTLE FELLOW?OH SlRTHEY
&AY MY FATHER KILLED A .
MAN R3R.pRlN6ING-"IFMfilM
LAMB WOULDNT WALK WOULD
LESLIE CARTER "
6IDDAP NAPOLEON?
Twvtf THE HOUR OFI? AND ALL
WAS 5TJLL. THE &RAVEYARD
SEEMED TO YAWN AND &IVE
UP ITS. VERY DEAD HA -MA-HA I
WHAT IS THS CRIED WlNCHESTra
WILLED RS He STEPPED FROM
BEHIND F TOMBSTONE AND LET
FLY AT THREE DUSKY Flgy e,
STANDING THERE CRAH-Blrf6HP,UD.,ENCE WS ONE MAN BUT
OWlE-OUTI?AN& HlSTPUSTY
fcEPEATEP AND 2 MORE SAVAGES
BIT THE DUST. THE OTHER
WRITHIN6 WHERE HE FEU
CHIRPED, "IF ALL THE WEEDS
FORMED A CONSPIRACY
WOULD VOU CALL IT A GEAS
flOT.
OFfJGER) Youfee on my foot
gentlemen be seated
ta-ra-ra-ra
interlocutor- how wa& t
th at ou lost your too 5
REPORTER BOES?
BONES.-WHY DC ED ITAH AS5I6NCD
ME TO EE FOTE A CONCE RT. I
WENT AND FOUND DE ENTlAH
HE SEEMED TO EN JOY THE;
SHOW SO I REPOTED DAT DE
CONCERT WAS LISTENED TO
EY A LAWGE AN'ATfRECWPKE
AUDIENCE. DATS ALL IWASfiAHflM
INTECLOCUTOR-IDONT OLWJE
HIM-WHAT POSSESSES YOU
TO CfiLL ON E MAN A L PR6E AND
APPRECIATIVE; AUDIENCE. .
BONES-WSLL DE GENT
WEIGHED AECUT300 POUNDS.
The Ten Ages of Beauty The Gainsborough Girl
Illustration from Goood Housekeeping Magazine for September.
Good Counsel to Widows
ivt.
)V
rt
JW
By DOROTHY DIX.
A few weeks ago a fine and noble man,
who was a peculiarly devoted husband,
passed into the Great Beyond. After his
death, when his strong box In the bank
was opened, the
topmost thing In
It was found to
be a letter ad
dressed to his wife.
It was a beauti
ful and tender love
letter, telling her
of his great af
fection tot her,
and of how happy
she had made hla
life. Then, M It
he stretched a pro
tecting arm about
her even from the
grave, he counseled
about her future
life and the man
agement her af
fairs, and gave her
the following sagacious pieces of advice.
' Don't to to ltvs with any of your mar
ried children. . '
Don't go tu live with any ot your rela
tives. Make a little homo for'yourself, where
you can live, your own Independent life.
Have a place of your own where you
rule supreme, even If It la nothing but
a room In hotel. From it you can vtslt
your friends and relative all you like,
but don't go to live under anybody's roof.
. Don't trust anybody to manage your
business affairs for you. Do that your
self. ' ' ; ; '''.
Keep all of your business In your own
hands at at your fingers' ends.
. If you find that you can't manage your
business, nut It In the control of a trust
company, not an Indlvludal.
Don't speculate. Buy nothing but' gilt
edge bonds.
Don't be tempted to buy untried se
curities because they promise big In
terest. You pan only get a low rate of
Interest on absolutely safe Investments.
Never lend money to a relative or a
friend.
Never go into a business deal with a
relative or a friend.
Take care of your money. '
llcmember that her pocketbook Is an
old woman's best friend.
Never forget that pedple do not want a
poor old woman about them, and that
the only way you can be sure of always
being a welcome guest and made much
of when you are old and feeble, ts to
have enough money to make It worth
while for people to court yoo. 1
Don't forget that all through life we
have to pay as we go, and when we are
old the price is doubled on us.
Don't give away your money, even to
your children, while you are alive. Ex
pectation of favors to come Is a stronger
staff to lean on than gratitude for bene
fits received.
These words of advice may well be
taken to heart by every widow who reads
them, for they are a guide and a sign
post, pointing a safe road for her to i
r.l
travel that will keep her from falling -.a"
Into the bogs of misery lnt which
their
misery
women left alone to shape
course generally 'tumble.
own ; r
Consider again ' he pith of the counsel ?
of this modern Solomon.
' Don't go to live with
children. '
your., married
Thereby you will avoid all' th sorrows, ,vrl
and miseries, and complexities of the In- j'-
law proposition, and remain on good
terms with your son's wife and your ' S
daughter's husband Instead of being hated 'f
and Insulted by them. tic,
' Keep a home of your own.' No woman
who has been' mistress of her own house '5
for half her lifetime can ever fit In any. -lm
body else's, and the experiment, when7'8
she tries to do It, alwaya ends in dls
aster. . ., . , . -.. . ' 7'
Attend to your own business affairs. L'
Nine-tenths of the widows, you know are
the easy marks of scoundrels . who rob
them of the money their husbands have
left them. ,, .
Don't lond money to your relatives ;or j.v'i
friends. You lose both when you do. , ' ' "
' Hang oh -to your own purse. -We've ail
seen the difference In. the, way poor old
Aunt fiusan . and 'rich Aunt Susan are
treated.
' Don't turn over your money to your ;!
Children while you're alive. If your chll- W
dren . love you, and' consider you, they ,"','
don't want you to beggar yourself for '
them and become dependent upon them.
They don'J want your money, and If ,v"
they are the greedy sort that can't wait
you die to get It, ' they wJH hava no
further use for you when they have
fleeced you.' W have 'all seen mother ''
treated worse than a servant In rrer own
houwe that she had been fool enough to '
deed over to her son.
It Is an added tragedy of widowhood -that
it ao often leaves a woman as be- ?
wlldered and helpless as a child. She
has always been taken care of, always ,''.,,
1
thought for, alwaya had somebody to .i.Mt
make the decisions for her, and when '.
she' is thrown on her own resources he ''j
doesn't know what to do and becomes the i,V
victim of the' sharpers that are always fs
on the lookout for such poor Innocents
he. ' !'' .
She Is, lonesome, and she'll go to live :
With anyone who asks her. She doesn't ;
know anything about' business. 'and "he,
signs any paper a lawyer will bring her. .'j5j
$he Is heartbroken, and she is so grate- ?a-;a
hi tor sympathy she doesn't look to see
how people are taking advantage of her; si
grief to swindle her. r M.
She feels that life Is over for her, and ?3
It doesn't matter much what she does or' V'
where she goes; but this Is a cruel This-1 U
take, as she finds out In bitterness 'and,
tears after ahe has made it Many years
of l!fes stretch before her In which she
can be at least comparatively happy and-,:
peaceful. If she has had intelligence;.
enough to choose the right road that leads; ?
through the valley of widowhood. And,J?;j
along this road she can have no better
mentor than the wprda of this roan. )eft'-;-
as a guidance to his own beloved wife. 9,V
IcVJ
' ' li'i
The Manicure Lady
"a4.
THIS PICTURE BY NT.' T, BTN"r,FY IS RKPROPTTF.n BY PERMTS8ION AND AtTCOlIFANIES AN ART! CUD BY
OCTAVE UZANNE ON "THE STORY OF FURS AND MTFFV
"The face that has character, that is
the ideal type of feminine beauty!" said
the man as he paused before Gains
borough's famous portrait of Mrs. Sid-
dons, the celebrated English actress.
"It's all very well to have character,
but you can have too much, especially
In your face. Character makes one's
nose long," said the woman, as she deftly
powdered hers with a loving touch. It
was short.
However, the man wouldn't be deterred.
"If woman would only model them
selves on this wonderful type of beauty,
think how superb, how dignified, how
By MARGARET HUBBARD AVKK.iful portrait, the,; ..... .
- beside him, with her bis apinalinii i-yvt.
her curls and all the frilly furbelows of
modern drew. Her mouth was a little
open as if she had never had an idea In
her life, and her Innocent, baby expression
was as far removed from the Slddons
clean-cut beauty as the two poles.
"Let's go and have lunch at the Ce-
magntflcent they would be and how men
would worship them!"
"She even stabbed her potatoes a.s if
they were bitter enemies and hlood, in
stead of mealy food would ooze out of
them. It must have been very hard to
live up to her. It's a great thing to have
character to be great and powerful, to be j cil," he said, and tuckfd her under his
a genius, in fact. But most women prefer j arm protecting!'.
that their husbands should occupy thnt "1 bet It's an engagement," said one
position. No one hears of Mr. Slddons."; of the tourists who were being lectured
This seemed to strike the man very ! by a muKeum guide and had now reached
forcibly. He looked first at the beauti- ' the Siddons portrait. And it was.
"I sure had a great time last night,
George,-' said the Manicure Lady. "I
didn't know that anybody could have so
good a time in thia here big selfish town.
I was up to see Mr. and Mrs. McBeth
and I didn't get home at all. It was rain
ing when the party broke up, and they
wouldn't let me go home at all If X had
wanted to go. which I didn't There was
a awee.t little girl there named Gibson,
from Detroit,' and between Mister Mc
Beth's recitations and the rest of the
conversation everything passed away
lovslr. I guess If father had been there
he would have passed away as lovely a"s
verything."
"Folks don't have many good times in
York." said the Head Barber.
"There Is too much of the downtown stuff
0 too little of the old gothering-around---table
stuff. I was entertained myself
ht before last up at a home in Harlem.
; every minute I was there, looking at
... upstate host and his wife, I was
thinking how little real friendship gets a
chance to get out among New York people
in general. The town Is too big, kiddo,
and that's all there Is to It"
"Wilfred was there, too, last night,"
said the Manioure Lady. "Poor brother
was In fine fetter."
"In fine what?" asked the Head
Barber.
"Jn fine fetter," replied the Manicure
Lady.
"You mean In fine fettle," corrected
the Head Barber. "You ought to go to a
inlshing school with some of the tip
money that you get.".
"Never mind what I mean," snapped''
the Malcure ' Lady. "Some ' of tbese.A
days. George, you are going to prompt,
me once too often, and you will bo sorry, j.y
I knew a barber once that spoke out of;-?
his turn to a manicure girl and got an
orange stick through the lobe of his ear. f $
It made him look like one of those FIJI :x
Islanders. You know they always have "
wooden pegs in their ears or their nose." j-j ,
"When you try that on me bo careful';:
that your Judgment of distance lsV,r
good," said the Head Barber. "I don't,.,.
want to hit a lady." - ''
"WaU. I wouldn't probably do nothing
like that." replied the Manicure Lady. t
"But as I was saying. Wilfred was there'!"
too, and he. had the time of his llfe.;.;2i
There wasn't no place for him to stay -' '
all night so he had to go home, but hef
stuck until the last dog was hung. you.,r
can bet your life on that We had a ',
swell midnight lunch, and the way he..
went to that would remind you of a
whale swallowing a prophet Another, 3;',
reason that he stuck around, beside the
good eats, was that ho had all the chanc .'-.- '
in the world to recite his poems, lis fit
must have recited twenty of them. Some.V:,;
of them was worse than others." 1
"If I had a home I wouldn't entertain 7 '
posts," said the Head Barber. "They re-
cite too much.',' - ' ' '
"But you oughn't to say that" v
George, ' answered the Manicure Lady
"Poets has got to llvo somehow." ' ' '
