THE BEE: OMAHA, SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 231 1912.
15
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SILK HAT HARRY'S DIVORCE SUIT
Luther Wanted His Rights, That's All
Copyright. 1912. National News Ass'n.
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' I TO STP-OU. AHO LOST HIS WAN"
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Hunting a Husband
The Widow Has a Chance Encounter With
Maynard.
By VIRGINIA TKRHUXB VAN DEWATER.
J
To her intense irritation, Beatrice felt
herself tart violently and the crimson
flush that 8he hated swept over her face.
The man ' lifted his hat gravely, then,
bending, spoke close to her ear that he
might make himself heard above the roar
of the train. : ' ;.
"I. did jnot know you were still in
town," he said, , "and ' it was not till , you
had passed into the car that, I saw
your. face and recognized in you the lady
who came near being badly hurt. I am
thankful that you were not injured."
Beatrice was so weary that speech was
an effort and she answered as. briefly
is courtesy would permit. ,
"I was very stupid," she aald, "to make
such a misstep, and I thank, you for
helping to extricate me from an awk
ward dilemma.". t
If he thought that she was going . to
regard him aa a hero who. had rescued1
her .'from . danger, he wa. doomed to
disappointment She would not encourage
him to tell his fiance how; noble be had
been to a lonely widow, who, ' but ' for
his Interposition, ... might , have been
seriously,, hurt. She would treat the en
tire affair himself .included as a com
monplace and insignificant incident- But
he,,waa,ji0tJla..be put,, off thus, easily,
for .in. a few . moments -he bent ove? her
again. , .. ... ' , '
"Would you not like me to call a taxi
cab I?r .you, when you reach your sta
tion?" he asked. "It will 've ma pleasure,
to see that you get home safelyj'', ,..
"Thank you," she roplted stiffly,' ".'that
will not be necessary." ' 51 ""'
It is difficult , to be .djgnified in speech
on a subway train,, for one must raise
one's voice to an ear-distresslng pitch to
make one's speech audible. Beatrice,' con
scious of this fact, congratulated herself
that Robert Maynard would probably
get out at the next station, as he lived
farther downtown than dfd she. But she
was mistaken for he remained standing
In the ' aisle until her street was called
out when he turned and offered to-neither
Xo her feet. She pretended nottd
see his outstretched hand but stood. , up
lone and hurried from the train followed
by Maynard. ". . .. ,.
But she was weaker in,nerve and body
from the shock of her fall than, she ap
preciated, and as she began to climb the
stairs to the street the steps seemed to
waver tinder her tread, and she grasped
the balustrade to steady herself. The man
beside her saw the halt in her gait, and,
taking her by the elbow, supported her
to the toft' of the flight 'The widow re
meinbered with dismay that her home was
several long blocks from- the station, and
hoped for strength to walk the distance
alone. If she could only get rid of hei
selMnstituted eseort! Turning to . him,
she held out her. hand.
"Again thank you and good aftamoon!'
she said, with a forced smile, "And now
I will ask you to leave me, as I am going
right home and need no more-help," - .
He topk ner hand and stood looking at
her iiulislcaliy, yet a trifle!- sadly. ,
"Dear 'lady," he urged, "do. not act as
if I Were an enemy Instead of a friend
I do not want to annoy you, but you are
not Veil, and I do not intend to leave
j you until I see you safe in your house
That is the least' that any man would: do
under- the circumstances." ;.' ,- V.
"I am accustomed to going -about alone,1
declared Beatrice, "even" With, a flash
.of anger "at the hours when you say a
woman should be at home." "
"I did not know that the woman' in the
question was you when I mBde that re
mark,'"' said Maynard, gently .-'
"The facts were the same, no' matter
who the woman was!" retorted Beatrice.
Uut before she eould'say 'more. the man
beckoned up a handsome that was pass
ing, put her in it, and giving her address
to f,he driver, stepped in after her. Then
he continued their, conversation as it It
had not been interrupted.
"I think," he pleaded, "that you ought
to pardon tha- speech you overheard me
make to the guard, since,- had I known
who- the- woman-1 helped' was,""! Twould
.have felt and spoken differently 'I.
"And I do not see what difference that
would have made," Insisted Beatrice, "aa
your statement might apply ttf any
woman."
' "Not If she were you," said Maynard
softly, ."for you always maki i all the dif
ference to me."- - - --
Beatrice looked at him suddenly,' sur
prised at hie tone, but he was gazing
straight ahead of him, and she held her
peace. would not be''the-one' to" rs
for- an explanation, or ."to say-a word
that would give him a "chance W account
for, his behavior since their last' meeting.
Her life, she reminded herself, 'was com
plicated enough just now without ' Uer
running the risk 6f muddiing 11 sUlI fur
ther by. a dispute with the man beside
her. He had. she had believed, passed (
out of her existence, and, while she may
have regretted the circumstances that led
to this passing, she had never allowed
herself to regret the man. So she leaned
back in the corner of the cab and, as 'in
the ear, slosed her weary eyes. She would
be glad to get back home and to bed.
She hoped that Mary had begun to pack
the trunks, for, if so, she oould finish
them tomorrow with little trouble. She
did not want to look at them tonight.
She opened her eyes with a sigh as the
cab drew up to her curb.
"I thank you, Mr. Maynard," she said,
once more, politely, "for your kindness.
I must be very tired, or I would not have
allowed you to put yourself to so much
inconvenience. .1 hope you have not been
thinking me very Inconsiderate."
"I. have been thinking," he murmured
as he helped her from the cab, "of other
i idee we have had together."
He paid the driver and followed her
Into the house. Jack, who had been talking-
to the elevator boy, ran forward to
greet them.
"Oh, Mr. Maynard:" he exclaimed, joy
ously, "I'm so glad, to see you! You're
coming up to dinner, aren't you?" -
Maynard toughed, easily, "No, dear
lad," ;he replied, "but I am coming as far
as your apartment to see that your
mother Is ail right. She's not very well.''
"Aren't you, mother?" questioned the
child, anxiously. "Is that why Mr. May
nard brought-you home In a cab?"
"I'm 'onlyr t)red,! - replied the widow,
hastily. ''I've been shopping and Mr,
Maynard met me on the subway and In
sisted on calling a cab for me." ,
She would forestall any explanation of
Maynard's. ' But' she need ' not have
troubled herself, for the -man and boy
were soon seated In her living ;room chat
ting merrily of other matters, while she,
listening, said little. When Maynardrose
to go ' the' boy caught his hand and
squeezed it .impulsively.
"Oh, -I do-like you!" he aald. "Do
cotne.often to see us!"
"If mother will let me," replied the
man, glancing over the boy's head at the
widow.
"Certainly,'.' she , said, colorlessly. Yet,
as he asked, the question she had a sud
den thrill V feeling.- Was it pleasure at
his evident desire to see her again, or
was it triumph? ;
After he had gone she remembered dis
tinctly three' .things-first, that he had
wished to come again; second, that he
had nat asked ' nor had she told him
where the was going for the summer;
and, third, that nothing had been said by
either. Maynard or herself of his-engagement
nor of his betrothed.
- . -
KS I.. . t
lit fTer T"- -t-i r. aim- jhANCCri W
UT BV6EO&6E WrtENWAS?Oay
Burned the Grass Roots
J
A: strange tory comes( from Watagua
county. North Carolina, across the Blue
Ridge from Eat Tennessee, in connection
with a recent burial in an old cemetery
near' the county seat of that county. The
Story Is vouched for by he editor of the
Watauga Democrat, a weekly newspaper
published in that county. This editor
relates, that While attending the burial
referred , to, and which occurred only a
week or, two ago, hi attention was di
rected to a grave that was perfectly
barren, and was apparently as hard on
the, surface as the packed dirt of a public
-highway. He was informed by persons
residing in the community that this
grave contained the duet of a man named
Hattpn, who died forty year ago.
"Although all these years have elapsed,"
said the editor, "not a blade of grass nor
a flower' of any kind has grown upon the
grave." .He inquired the cause, and the
mountain folk explained that the man
buried there' was extremely profane. He
Was wont to curse and rave at every
thing which -was not exactly to his lik
ing it. was ' related, and few things ever
were. During his last Illness, as re
lated to the editor by old residents, he
grew frightfully rebellious, and drew hl
lat breath with curses upon his Hps for
hts Creator.
The . Condition of this grave Is made
the more strikingly significant by the
fact, as described by the editor of the
Watauga Democrat, that all other graves
In the little cemetery are covered with a
carpet , of .grass." while upon some of
them roses and other flowers are-grow.
tr,g.--Chttanooga Times.
Many a man performs his work as
though he thought he was doing the boss
a favor.
TOOT T00T T00TWW6OWTTMI?
YfHlSTtE THEM A COUPL Or
MOW TOOTS. IT WA&TH'rST
WAf ON THE VfZ T?USWM&
TOWARDS TAPRYTOWN TWCNT?
TWO HOURS LATE- A MAIL BAG
WAS THROWN PROW THE MYrflS
TRAIN BUT EA6LE EYrCWARLIC
D
n n
I..HJL
SYDNEY HAD BEEN STANDING Oil
TWAT CORNER ALL EVENING,
THE COP CAME ALONG- AND
-AFTER TICKLING SYDNEY WJTH
wis club, told him to follow
W& BEE2ER DOWN THE LANE.
fWHATi&THATTlPED THE BULL
HS HC lUKHfcU 1U OUR HEKO
THE STATION AGENT WttSTHERjV0 WAD MUMBLED SOMETHING
nn inc. t-Mitr rfCYCKa ?iurr
And grabbed said twl bag.
THE PC WAS A NOTE PlNNEPTO
IT SO CHARLIE PUT ON HIS
CHEATERS AND PEAD,
7 MAN RUN& FDR A RCASOH
BUT WHAT DOE 5 AN AUIOWOeiLt
T?UN ABOUT
WATSON THfEDLE
. 1 1 v.
IM 0N6 ONe NKrHT
STANDS NOW AND
AT 1 REHEARSE
WITH THE BAND ATJ-
&TA6E REHEARSAt
f OMIY WANTED TO KNOW
6AIDSYD AS HE STORED
IF A GRASSHOPPER GETS
IMTO THE POULTRY YARD
WILL THE TURVEY GOBBLER1
Save the wrappers
H30Y5. THERE'S MERRY
riUCILAGEON THE
PREMIUM U5T
H30 WE PARAHE AKWHJIN FRONT OP THEATr?
S-30 PL A7 MINOR PARTS
TOWN AT U WE EAT
AND AT WE PLAY
IWSC IH THE FAIR
GROUND ANDTH20W
BILLS AROUND FOR
THE HOW THAT Nl6W7
If PC?9T0)l THEN AT XftT7 BAND CONCEgT laV MUSIC Tlz.T 2 3oJ
A i
GENTLEMEN BE bEATED
' TARARA"RA
Bones-mistah jomnson can
youttllme de dipfer.ence
between 30 and 32
interlocutor-why certainly.
THE DiFFC HENCE IS 2,
"Bones-no suh. there aint
NO DIFFERENCE.
INTERLOCUTOR- kflNDLY EA?1AM
THAT TO N)E.
BONES - WELL YOU SEE MlSTAH
JOHNSON IM THIRTY YEARS OLDI
AND YOURE THIRTY TOO-
HIST.'! TIS THE !
i
5H0KE 0FY0H CCP
7
AND DO CARDTRICKS
BETWEEN THE ACTS
AFTER THE SHOW WE
PUSH THE CHAIRS McA
TOK IHE DANCE AND
GEE
voufee
GOY
VEP
NOTMIN
10VOVLL
. . ... -
"Old Fashioned Wife in Discard," She Says
By ADA PATTERSON. ,
There is a new wife. She Is a creature
of ilie new era of woman. She loves her
husband, but she no longer worships
him. I had this from a gifted young
woman who haa studied' -Women under a
microscope, Mrs. . Edgar Selwyn, the
author. ,
"Sex madness and sej: blindness are
passing," said Mrs. Selwyn as she sat 'in
her dainty little studio, where "Mental
Efficiency" was the first volume on a
long shelf of books, and "Woman Her
self" was the last. We were talking of
the attitude of wives in the news, the
wives of the suspects in the graft murder
cases, one and all of whom have ex
tolled their husbands, ascribing to them
angelic attributes, and of the bride of a
day. Mrs. Anthony Grace, who, being
taken Into the coroner's office to testify
against her husband, charged with killing
his brother and committing bigamy.
cried, pointing her bridegroom
"Take that man out of the room. I
cannot bear the sight of him.
"It's an interesting contrast and a
signifVKnt one," she said. "The wives of
the suspects in the Rosenthal case are
types of the old wife. Mrs. Grace stands
for the new wife. It is admirable to
stand by your husband, even though he
be wrong,' but claiming angelic qualities
for him is what I term sex madness, or
sex blindness. It Is a relic of the old
order -when women were taught to re
gard men as gods.
The literature of the time, the old-
fashioned, slushy novels which we were
allowed in our childhood and girlhood tn
read, put man on a pedestal. Girls
turned tjieir eyes upward and clasped
their hands when the word "man", was
spoken 'In their presence. Foolish books
and foolish talk were responsible for this.
.Thftt time has passed and It won't come
back. Women have Injected their reason
ing faculties into the sex situation. T!;e
clinging vine has gone out.
Does -the : new wife love .her hunband
as well as , the old on did?"
"Yes, , but In a less selfish way."
'"You mean that less selfish?" .. -
"Yes, for it Is selfish to hang about
a man's neck, te tell him that all your
life and happiness are in him. Besides
it bores him. There is a great deul
said in praise of the woman who stayed
at home and had no Interests outside of
it. The woman who stayed at. home
wanted' to do so. They did not care to
go beyond their own threshold. . Now
they do, and that la as it .should be. In
telligence has so organized household af
fairs that t does hot tak ,all "of 'a wo
man's time to look afterthem and' she
has a bmrglij 'of time left to' go-about
and meet other women ' and . exchange
Ideas, if the Ideas arc only aa to dress
makers., and milliners where . they can
do the best for themselves About gowns
and hats.
The ' new wife is more interesting to
a man because she has learned to think
for herself. :
'The new wife is less demonstrative
in ' her affection . than the old - one. If
she. coddles and. pets her husband It, is
to amuse" Mm, not" herself. . -,
'Men still' Uik about the old-fashioned
wife."- .. f ..... t I
'Tea, but they, don't - marry the old-
fashioned womari. -The -old wife is an
Idea with them, not a fact. ' She made
more demands than the new wife doe.
She expected to be all instead , of a
" ' oi 1 "g
v lwA V' vy
J
MHS. EUGAK. SELWYN.
mere part of a man's life. - That Is an
other reason I am sure 'the old wife
was more, sejflsh than the new; It Is
the wife of the old type of whom a
man tires. , Look about among your ac
cquaintattceg and peefJf this is nat true.
Man la by nature' a' pursuer He likes
to feel that there is some part of a
woman's .nature he does not yet knew
and haa not wholly conquered. . -
The new wlfe who gdes about and
brings home new ideas provides new
Interest In his life. If only the Interest
of combatting the new ideas, At any
rate she never bores him. .
'The woman likes .this new sort of
love. The' woman of ; today doesn't want
to be loved as a mail .loves the' dog that
comes up to hlm . anfljiclis his hand. A
man goes on down fhe street and meets
other dogs that lick his hand,' '-'
"If you.wpre' advising a girl .who
wanted to i!be a wife, what would you
say?" " ' r ''.".'
"1 should say, first, strike out for your
self. Keep your home Well, but do some
thing beside. If it Is only to make some
trinkets and take them to a woman's
exchange for sale; Cultivate your talent
whether it is for grand opera 'or' cake
baiting. So you became an individual,
"What if a wife proves cleverer thalt
her husband? She may pass him in the
race?
"Such cases are rare. When they do
happen the right sort of a man won't
m'nd. I have several friends who are do
ing work Independent of their husbands
and the husbands ..are proud of them
They are happy couples.
"The new wife Is no Griselda. If "she
sees her husband wants a row, If he
wants to got It out If. his system, she let
him have the row, and she makes it
Interesting for him while it lasts. "She
gives him something to think about.
"Of course, quarreling should not be
kept up-to a point of loss of self respect
for oither, but a sharp tilt about some
In Other People's Houses
(sq jit
By DOR0TJ1T D1X
An old mother went to live with her
son, whose wife's mother also lived ,lo
the same house. Both the son and his
wife did all they could to make the old
lady happy, but she disapproved of the
manner and point
of view of the
d a m g hter-ln-laws
mother, and felt
It to be her sacred
duty, to express
her opinion freely
on the subject
Trouble ensued.
Then the mother
went to live with
her married daugh
ter, but she didn't
like hai son-ln-law's
relatives any better
than she did her
d a u g hter-ln-law'i
and she likewise
felt it nothing more
than right, and her
privilege to vent her sentiments, thereby
stirring up strife again, and -precipitating
another family row, -' - -
It appear that before mother arrived
on the scene both her son and daughtet
were on the most affectionate terms with
their "in-laws," and got along beautifully
with Miem, and because they refused to
sever these kindly ties and take mother's
part In the foolish quarrels, she feels that
she has been badly treated, and calls
them undutlful children, and regards her
self as a persecuted martyr.
Of course, there Is no use in telling this
old lady that the son and daughter are
right, and that there's just one person
more foolish than the Individual who la
always getting Into quarrels, and that Is
the one who takes. up somebody else'
quarrel. Nor is there any good iii elllng
her that, so far from having a grievance
In her children loving their "ln-laws,'
she should be down on .her knees thank.
Ing heaven for the miracle that has been
vouch-safed In their behalf.
Nor is it worth while to remind her
that other people have just as good a
right to their own rode of ethics and
conduct as she has, and that she holds no
divine commission to go around reforming
the world, and forcing other people to
measure up to her little narrow inch
rule. . ''
Colossal self-oonceit Is one of the un
lovely characteristics of age that only
the biggest and broadest minded people
escape. By the time a woman has ad
mired herself for sixty odd years vanity
becomes an Incurable disease. By tbe
time she ha been sure she ha been ex
actly right for half a century' you could
remove a mountain easier than you
could shake her faith In her own in
fallibility, and her mind Is as impervious
to the suggestion that she might be In
the wrong as a granite boulder is to the
prick, of a cambric needle.,
Old people always think they are Solo
mons, that their way of doing thing Is
the only way, their point of view the
only correct one, and this is what makes
It so difficult for any old man or woman,
and especially an old woman, to live' in
another person's house.
- The old woman quarrels with .her
daQghter-in-law because the daughter-in-law
doesn't keep house exactly as she
did, and doesn't bring up her children
just she brought up her and because
daughter-in-law goes out to clubs when
she never did, or .wears tight skirts when
she wore hoop skirts, or she uses the
best "china every day when she always
kept hers under lock and key, and
brought It out only on state occasions.
Or the old lady nags and fret at her
son-in-law because he smokes when she
disapproves of tobacco, or. he has beer
with his dinner when she Is a W- C. T.
U., or he ha old chum of whom she is
suspicious. ,or beeaUM be will read. the
Sunday newspaper Insttead of going to
church. ......
It never occurs to the old lady that her
real issue does no more harm than a
children's quarrel hot while It lasts, and
soon forgotten.
"It is desirable to - have the same
sympathies and tastes, but It is essen
tial to have one ambition. If a couple en
joy the same pursuits, if they are to
go out to dine, of, If both like dancing,
or both prefer to stay at home and spend
an evening in reading, they will be hap
pier for the time, but having the same
ambition will make the marriage a longer
one. ,
"We agree that wedded life Is In a sens
a long conversation, and that a woman
should have' something to contribute to
it beside the old wife's 'Yes, dear,' and
'No, dear.'
"The new wife should be a comrade,
not an echo," said Mr. Selwyn,
.... -H
dughter-ln-lw may be a far more 1,T
talligent woman .than she is. -that he,
way of keeping house and raising chtl1
dren may be a thousand time more soien'
tlflo, or that the daughter-in-law W,e
may represent the advance In progrta
of a generation, and that even' lf -
doesn't, tbe daughter-in-law ha just
good a right to run her own affair in
her way a she had to run her In h!"
why. t'jiw
Nor doe it dawn on her that any man t
who pay for the support of a home ha1.
the privilege of doing tn it as he please
and that It la an Insolent Impertinence
Itor any outsider to Interfere with him. 9t
Mother-in-law I alway an unwelcom
guest, whether It I In her on's or her.ff
daughter' house, and it 1 her own u'r
In the majority of caea that thl la tru
And It is true because she cannot keen,
her finger out of her children' pleJwJiS
She' bound' fo meddle, and whn ilvt
doe the mlchief' to pay. : i
Because a woman happen to be thy
mother of her. host or hostess doe nbT
make her any the less a guest under
hi or hen roof,, and If she could yn'r,n
remember thl, and conduct herself an:
cording to the rule laid down by de.Q
cent society for the guidance of guestijj.'x
It would enormously augment th sum .B
of human happiness. " i"17"
. -Because a woman 1 staying in . hat-.
son' house glv no right t9 ' try
to bos It and her -In-law, or
to criticize the bread su ea. On tAaV
contrary, it should make her that much
more discreet and chary , of making augT
gettlon. . Daughter-in-law will aek fit,
her advice wtun ahe want it, and the id
wise thing la to withhold counsel even
when it I requested. -
Nor does the fact that she Is living. ;
With her daughter give a woman thef
tight to police her son-in-law and maKW
herself disagreeable to him. , On the coq-':!&
trary, she pays for her board with hw-
society, it Is all the more op to her fo
make that society agreeable, soothing aud
flattering. . :. - ' - , ' , .
Old people are not adaptable, and v
seems Impossible for the woman who has
ruled supreme. In her own house to tak65
second place in somebody else's. It 1
likewise Impossible for a mother to re
RlWe that her children ever grow up, ami:'
tiiut when they are married they have f"
duty to husband or wife that oome eve,
before their duty to her. Thia 1 why
the advent of the mother-in-law in '''
family is almost invariably the Jjegip",,
nlng of trouble, and why no motheno
should go to live with any one. ,af jhejj'"
married children if it Is possible to avoid, .'1
It i .' , , ' ,;','!
Undoubtedly daughters-in-law and eon.;,,
in-law are not angel to live with. They
,lack much In patience and consideration"?
In dealing with their wives' and husbandtfT
mothers. But .mother's skirts are ntft'4
clear : either, and the woman ,' who
really her children's interest at- hearts
who loves them unselfishly, will go to mt
old ladies' bom before she , WJH go
live with them.- v? . lt
, . .; - ;m
t idl
'Twas a Good Ad, Anywiy
fad
aa
Physicians; a a rule, are strongly ore: 5
posed to published edvertlslng.' Trts'-a
aversion i founded on an old rule' '
medical ethic and Is carried to the esel
treme of making a doctor who breaks !ftf
an object of suspicion in the eyes of hi
fellow practitioners. W'X
Apropos of thl 1 th story which Pr, '
W. H. Hill told on himself the other dai'Jwi
"My wife got me Into an awful CxojjI
Dr. Hill declared. "You see, she wa oneu
of the women appointed or elected at
church to solicit advertising for a beneftt t
cook book. . She, knew nothing of whar
a crime It is for a physician to, break. ,
into print, ahd' merely to show that hsoH
heart was in the cause Inserted my oaf' ,
with those of merchant, dyers and clean
er and other. When the book came out
Mrs- Hill brought me the first copy fifw
the press and proudly pointed out my ad"1
vertlsement I will admit .. that , t w$V
somewhat excited. . I went Immediately
to the publishing house and for a con--;
slderation got him to paste a white piece "
of paper oyer the space allotted to . me
In every book. 'When I returned hony
was Immensely satisfied with my forest
thought and my; sacrifice to the pronef71
thing in practice. Witness what haj)'
pened a day or two later. .
"I met a friend In 'the profession ' i&i
the street and he began to smile, when
aw mt. .;: .. .i. n f- :.
"Well, what tickles your I 'inquire-'
" 'I will have to give H te yen: you aj
mighty clever,' th. doctor eaid. banter
Ingty. "The idea of pasting a blank eflj
over your ad o the ' women of , -youL- ,
church would be bound to see itr r-KaaS
a City Jou'rna' ' U j '.':';.. : J' ..,1 -..