TIFF. BE: OMAHA. TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 2. 1915 People We Do Not Like There Are Types We All Would Like to Avoid, but Since We Cannot We Should Avoid Their Eccentricities. . : : : : f .. --- rr-. - (Copyright. 1915, Star Company.) By ELLA WHEELER WILCOX. There arc certain types of people we all meet and all find undesirable. We would like to avoid them, but since we cannot, the B?xt best thing- to do la to avoid their eccen tricities. ., If we cannot like them, let us not be lit, . w tin iiichii .There la t h woman who appro priates all the space aha can in public conveyance Two people could anugly occupy the space she occupies In trolley -ar or stage. You swing upon the strap in front of her and your parcels fall upon her lap and at her feet. She looks coldly Into apace, while you glance ap lwallngty at the small place which might be made larger between her and her neighbor. a If you are aggressive and ask her to "pleas move along" she glares at you and movea a few Inchea. You might aa wall try to push tho pyramids along as to make such a woman budge an inch farther than she chooses. Looking at her face, you fill find self written on every feature cold, unloving, selfish eyea, stubborn, selfish nose, an unsweet. uelfleh mouth. Her soul has been choked and kept out of sight by her poor, petty self. This same small aelf has chiseled and fashioned her face. Figuratively speaking, the woman is standing in front of herself and obscuring her own vision. Then there la the ready bluffer the woman whoae proposed achievements al waya overwhelm the uninitiated. Won derful things are about to happen always to this woman, to judge by her talk. She is on the eve of sailing, her- passage is engaged; yet she never goes. When you meet her soon afterward and ask her how it happens that she did not go abroad aha has a long story to tell you, Witch Animals 0 DY GARRFTT P. SERVISS Strange Stories of One of the Most Abasing Superstitions That Piace in the Human Mind, with Pic tures of the Mysterious Loris hut ends always with a new date fixed for the delayed journey, though possibly It has taken an opposite direction. The professional bluffer Is of the same pattern. She Is about to sing before the queen In private audience or she Is on the eve of signing a contract to go Into grand opera, or she Is to start out with cornpany of her own In a few weeks, or alia has a book ready for the press which all the publishers are fighting over, or she la engaged to take an Im portant position on the leading newspa per of the day until you meet her again Then she has a new repertoire of re markable things which are about to hap pen. It Is so much wiser to let our actions speak for themselves In this world than to herald them with much talk. The ready bluffer wastes In words the vital force she needs for the execution of her plans. There Is a tremendous force In silence. Ood did not talk about the World. He made It and let it apeak for Itself. Always before the elements show their greatest power there Is a hush. The woman who knows all about the family history of your friends and who carries the key to their skeleton closets is familiar to air humanity. No matter whom you mention a. stranger, as jrou suppose, from another town, who is com ing to visit you or whom you have vis ited she atralphtwsy sets forth on a re cital of the doings of the grandparents or more distant relatives of your friends. She knew the aunt at school or was bridesmaid at the uncle'a wedding, and recounts what a scamp he proved to be, etc. If you seem embarrassed by her narra tive she conciliates you by remarking that every flock haa a black aheep, and that the wool of the white ones la all the fairer by the contrast. And she con cludes with a brilliant and original ref erence ilo the' small sice of the world, after ail. It Is excellent to know some things we do not tell. - If chanco has given you a peep Into the skeleton closet of your friend's friend there is no need to carry the key In your hand ready for Instant use. There Is no law against hiding other people's secrets. O J - t? a 1. J.,' - ( V -V1 1 ! if -. ' VV. " ' " ( f t 4' With Enormous Eyes (Used for the Brewing of lve Potions) and Ex cessively Thin Legs: the Blender Loris. Accused, by Malays, of Forcing Men to Commit Murder) the Slow Loris, .. Victim of Superstition, Clinging to a Uranch. One of the follies of superstition Is to turn ' certain animals into witches. A pair of these "witch animals" are to be seen in the photographs herewith. These are lorlses, and they prowl by night In the woods of Ceylon and the Malay Pen insula. They are also found In Africa. The mystic charm which Is attributed to them resides In their eyes. The loris Is a cousin to the monkey. He Is still more closely .related to the lemur, which is peculiarly a Madagas car animal, although found. In some of hia varieties, elsewhere. It Is not wonderful that the loris should be regnrded by Ignorant savages as an animal possessing maglcaJ powers. With his slender limbs writhing spectre-like about the branches of a tree at night, and hie huge eyea gleaming In the moon light or candlelight, lie presents spec tacle calculated to send a shiver through anybody's nerves. Ho slumbers by day, grasplnur a branch firmly with hts feet snd hands, and creeps silently about at night surprising his prey, m-hlch consists of llttlo peace fully sleeping blrJs, bcctlrs snd other small animals, aa welt as eggs and fruits. In Ceylon the wlchery of the loris is believed to be concentrated In its big globular eyes. But what do you suppose Is the nature of the wlch-power aecrlbcd to the marvellous eyes of the loris? It Is a love charm! The Singhalese (native of Ceylon), who wishes to win the sffet lion of some coy. or unwilling maiden of hl race, catches a loris and obtains a "love potion" from Its eyea, which he ad ministers covetiy to the object of his passion. The way In which this potion Is ob tained, according to W. P. Pycraft. the English naturalist, is almost too horrible to be described and yet we civilised men. merely In order to gratify our liking for dainty food, often practice equal cruelty on lobsters and othtr animals. The poor torls 1s held over a fire until his large eyeballa burst with the heat,, end the steaming liquid Is caught In a cup! I certainly should shrink from stating this fact if T did not think that the beat way, and. Indeed, the only way, to put an end to cruel and barbarous practices is to let all the world know about them. Similar superstitions, mingled with fear, are entertained about the loris In south ern China, for the animal la found there also. Among the Malays another species of loris Is employed for the supposed be devilment of enemies. Psrts of the body of this animal buried secretly under the threshold of a house are believed to In spire the owner of the house with a mania for murder. Instances have been known In which Malays convicted of as sassination have pleaded In justification that some enemy had bewitched them by burying a lots st their door. Closely related to the loris Is a very strings little animal called the potto. nit her cousin of the monkey, whose nocturnal habits, hugs eyes and wloid appearance, have mads It also an object of superstitious fesr and reverence. But wa should not smile too contemptu ously st such absurdities, because you have only to read the witch scenes In Phakespesre's "Macbeth" In order to per ceive how recently our own ancestral line was Infected with superstitions of exactly the same kind. The British Islands were a very mensgerle of witch animals not many centuries ago, but, luckily, Uttls of that kind of delusion found root la Amer lea. Read It Here .See It at the Movies V 'V By sped! arrangement for this paper a photo-drama corresponding to the Install meats of "Runaway June" may now be seen at the leading moving picture the ators. By arrangement made with ths Mutual Film corporation It la not only possible to read "Runaway June" each day. but also afterward to ses moving pictures illustrating our story. '.Copyright, 1315. by Serial Pulblcatlon Corporation.) THIRD EDISODE. June Finds Work. CHAPTER I-Contlnued. Back near the abandoned taxi there was . frantto group. Ned Warner, his face s set aa If it had been chisoled from marble, stood in the center of the road . with his flsU clenched until his nails dug Into his palms. There could be no doubt now that Gilbert Blye's pursuit of Ned's wife, June, was deliberate and purpose ' ful. Up came Mrs. BIyVs auto. "You're to Jumf In with Mrs. Blye, Med, and go straight on!" Iris shouted. "Get right In! Don't waste a minute!" And she fairly shoved the grim young husband of June Warner into the seat by the side of the determined wife of the man with the black Vandyke. The elec tive rolled away at Its utmost speed. At Blye's club the limousine stopped, while ths black Vandyked man alighted. June smiled a she bade him good night, but she wss very thoughtful nevertheless snd troubled. Blye stood on the steps of ths club and gased after the receding car with a smile of satisfaction. The limousine sped on to the address wbteh Blye had given the driver. Marie saw panic In June's face. She found the little hands of June cold with nervous collapse. "East!" she snapped to the driver. "I don't know the number. I'll tell you when we get there." A few minutes later they stopped In front of a dingy looking building with no n 'ght In the vestibule. Marie jumped out and rang the doorbell. A woman came to the door. They exchanged a few brief words and Marie ran down to the limousine. "It's all rlfiht. Junle. Mrs. Boales lias a nice back room for you and a cot for me." June stepped from the car with a aigh of relief. A home of any sort wss wet- come now. It had been a long and ex citing day. "I know the room. Jilts June," said Marie, sweeping past with her arms full ' ef fliiffles. Blye was In front of his club with a gray mustached, jovial looking, pink faced man when the car returneT. "Where did you take her, Scattir Blys asked. 'There mas uo number on the house, boss, but I can find It." "Drive ua there," directed Blye. Down on ths dingy esst side street he tried earnestly to pin down Scattl's dlaxied memory. Up and down Blys . moved, aeektng in every window fflr some sign of the runaway bride. Suddenly he eye caught the glint of something In a vesti bule. He ran up the steps. The glltter- Aklvt KurL 1 j n m 4.1.,- little 1 Clipper, one which June's collie had ear v f i ltd down to the taxi for her when she J hu.1 &I.Jn .Intl. ...... Ul- lir father's house. He jotted the num. b r of the house In a memorandum bock. ' CHAPTER II. Just where one turns from the Con course Into the narrow lane of the Inter minable Mott street construction work the Moors limousine overtook Honoris Bly's electric. Mrs. Blys let Ned alight She drove home. Her husband had long since preceded her. From a secret drawer of his desk he took some papers snd stuffed them in his pocket; then he called the abnormally ugly Blye maid to help him with a trunk. They were In the hall with the luggage when Honoria let herself in. She seised the situation at a glance and without a word laid hold of the trunk. But Blye, aided by Scattl, dashed away. Ned Warner meantime had driven straight to the apartments which bs and Juno had fitted ' up. He leaped rapidly through the telephone directory, called a number and delivered his message. There was a gnock at the door. detectives had corns from a private agency, ed bad given them a miniature of June. Meanwnlle Mrs. Blye in ths presence of the parrot waa also giving Instructions to detectives. She gave thorn a photograph of Gilbert Blys and warned them that that there was to be no publicity. June, busy with her own thoughts, presently found ths dark eyes of Marie fixed steadily on her in the ,glaas. She missed Marie's red gums, which wore al- j waya showing, but there wss no smile In the French-Canadian girt just now. "Why did you leave hlmT" asked the' maid. "Money, Marie. Ned gave me some money." "We were all so glad that Mr. Ned was going to be so good to you," Maris pa thetically observed, ''and you ran away from him because be was. You should go back. My sister's husband beats her." June shook her head. "Get m a news paper, Merle," she requested. June had a new problem to confront now. . 8he must earn a living, and It was a subject which she had never con sidered except In the vagus has of ro mance. When Marls returned with ths paper .she studied the want ads with curious Interest. ' Meanwhile Ulye and Orln Cunningham drove to the house wliere Blye had first directed June. "Bend Tommy down," directed Blys. psclng ths floor thoughtfully; Pcattl, storing many things in his mind, turned his swarthy face toward the win dow and presently saw Tommy come Into the room, the vivacious brunette gtr whom June had seen, pcatti saw Cun ningham rise' and the three conversing earnestly. Blys showed Tommy the pic ture In the lid of the little gold watch. Tommy was not highly pleased from the very beginning. The men grew stern, and then fccaUl saw ther.t reduce her to submiaaiveness. She walked away and presently came back wearing an evening wrap of creamy colors. - Ths three hur ried out and got into ths car. They drove down Into the dingy east aide street where June lay lit the sk-ep of blessed rest. Blys bad Tommy take care ful nots qf the house. IHtPTER III. June bustled quite cheerfully about her toIW.t the next morning and chose a little dark giay suit as bc.iiig the least con sptcuoua, for now she wa to be a work ing glil. Suddenly there was a wheexins; and a rustling at the Uxr anj a scmuing as If someone were seeking admittance. It was Mrs. Boales. "There's a young lady to sea you, Miss -Miss" "Justin." snapped Marie, who had given that name by a brilliant flash of Intel lect. "Yes Mary," wheeled Mrs. Boales. . 'That wasn't the mine the young Isdy gave. First she said Moore, and then she said Warner. And then she said that Justin waa right, she guessed, but she said 'June' every time, and she brought this slipper. Is It yours?" "Who Is ths young lsdy?" asked June "Mies Thomas, Miss-ma'am." Mrs. Boales' constantly roving eyes came to rest on the solitaire and the plain gold band on June's finger. "She said she came to see you about a position." June cast down her eyes In troubled thought. Blye he had aald be would send Three some one for her in the morning. Was there no evading ths man's kindness? How had he Absurd! Of course he had got her address from the driver of the car. Phe went down the stairs In worried concern, but In the doorway of thep parlor she stnppvd In sstonlshment as she saw her caller. For a moment the two beau tiful young women stood studying, each other in admiration, then ths brunette swept forward with a gracious smile. Later Junu called up the stairs, "I'll be back seme time this afternoon, Marie.", Then June went out with Tqmmy Thomas! Advice to Lovelorn eT MATaUC 7AXB7AX ; Tear Father Will tare for Her. Dear Miss Fslrfax: I have known a young man for the last year who lives In snother town. He has repoktedly asked me to marry him, but I have al roady refused, as 1 cannot bear to leave my mother. My mother la In poor health, and, as I am an only child, if I go away there will be no one to take care of her. I would take her with me, but my father doea not want to go, and she will not leave him alone. I love my mother, I love my sweetheart, and I am torn between the two of them. 1 do not know what to do. BIRDIE 8. Tour . attitude toward your mother la greatly to be commended, but I am .sure that she will not want you to sacrifice your life for her. Since your father is living and can care for her, I think you are quite free to marry the man you love. If anything serious befell, your husband would surely let you go homo temporarily or bring your mother to your home. She Is Too Yoensr for Yea, Dear Miss Fairfax : I am 85 and am in love with a girl of 18. , Her mother and father object to my attentions to her on account of the dif ference In our ages. What do you think .the best for ne to do. as the girl says sho won't marry ms until she has her parent's consent " ', WORRIED. A girl of IS is too young to choose her lite mate. Don't try to pe raced e this girl to disobey her psrents. Unless you can win them over, give her up. A Case Where Ave Doea Net Matter. Dear Miss Fairfax: I have been re. ceivlng attentions from a young man for eighteen months. What I would like to know la If age has anything to do with the matter before I accept an en gagement ring, which he has pressed ms to takeT The young man's sge is 23. and I am S3. Does this make any difference If there is true love? He la a gentleman in every respect; he dies everything to make me happy, and. above all. Miss Fairfax, he la ao lovely and So good and kind to hia mother 1 just love him for that, and If I do a little kindness for his mother he Is delighted. ANNA I. Ordinarily I do not believe In marriages where the man Is muchv ths woman' junior. But there Is no hsrd and fast rule In this matter. New in your case I believe a marriage would be advisable. You seem to be sensible, thoughtful, sym pathetic people, who will try to tnaks each other happy and who know trus love snd considerstlon. These things are more Important than the count of your birthdays. ' In-Shoots eissasaaaswa ' A mtxturs of politics and religion Is liable to be followed by more or less fermentation. ' When it comes to swsts, we always teem to get what ths ether fellow de serves. 'Ths man who continually howls about "bad business" Is doing his part to make It bad. "Maternity" and Test of Motherhood By MABEL M. IRWIN." I was returning from the play, "Ma ternity." wondering how It were possible that the public had been admitted to so tragically realistic ex play, when my ee chanced to fall on the evening's pRper, telllne of the Hscffners and their deserted children the dekth of the babe, deserted In a hallway; of the Indlffer- ftce of the mother, .i evinced by her attitude and words: "I couldn't stsnd them all In one room: they wore lie to a hadow. and I don't care to give up my l.fe for four children." It WH-nied as If I munt still be listening to the play, and that this was but an other a t on the stage, save that the scene had shifted, anl instead of re- ponslhle maternity, which slew Its un born children, to save them from shame, disease or poverty, I now saw a mottier who felt so little responsibility of mother- ood thst she was willing that her hlldren should perish sfter they bsd been bom and she had held them to her breast. Both seemed to me so tragic that I hardly knew which type of mother most drew my sympathy she with a stnsa of etpoiisthlllty almost mad In Its Intensity. or the other, with such an utter lack of It that she could have no realisation of her crime one who killed her unborn . Child because of her lovi for It; the other, because of love of self, sends her born children out to perish of cold or to be mothered by strangers But In both In stances, w hether love of child or leve of self dominated the mind of the mother. It spelled death to the little ones they had called from tho unknown. This "Msternlty" that Monsieur Breux has put Into the hands of Richard Ben nett to be staged Is a terrible thing an expose of the underworld of marriage: I e.. that condition of things which Is fostered In the guise of legitimacy snd ssendness under ths marriage vow; that which makes of women but sn Instru ment of debauchery In ths hands of lust- ful men, and maternity, motherhood, but one long threncdy. It la a terrible arraignment of man from beginning to end of man and of man made Iswe-lesvlng msn snd laws with out one redeeming feature, with woman. as mother, ever and always ths victim. Whether betrayed motherhood, enforced motherhood, stsrved motherhood, It Is all the same. Simply to be bom a woman and a possible mother la to pasa under a curse, and all laws and all customs but scrvs to perpetuate tho cure. So ran the play. After the uncovering of conditions ss to the mlmia'of the author they exist;, after nothing waa left to the imagina tion of the audience, there they lay. naked and bleeding, with none to cover their nskedness. There Is almost no sttempt to do any constructive work on the play, there la no panacea offered to problom attempted to ba solved. The only thing that could be heard, running as a keynote from beginning to end, that suggested a con structive Idea was after ail. only nega tively constructive. Since motherhood Is forced upon woman is without her consent let all motherhood be honored,-, wne.ther lawful or unlawful, was the pica, making ths cross of motherhood easier to bear by honoring natures laws rather than man's. If this "Maternity" play of Brleux's In dealing with the woes of enforced moth erhood, l but halt as true as his reveal- . mcnt of the dangers of the social evil in "Damaged Goods," then the eternal mys tery of life consists, not In ths fact that One young and overburdened mother sent her little ores out to perish In tbe night, but thst ten millions of mothers hold with suih wondrous love their unwel comed bshes to their breasts. "An evil exposed Is half cured." "Him that hath ears to hear let hlra hear." Honoria Blye. sitting st her parlor window and exchanging the thoughts of the morning with her 1 green feathered familiar spirit, saw loafing across from her house a long, lean, lanky man with a sparse black beard. Presently the door bell rang, and one of the wide, low detectlvea came In with an air. ef great exhaustion. "Nothing doing, ma'am," he reported "Blinky Peters and I watched your hus band's club all the time. Sneaky Tavts has shadowed Warner's apartments, and I'm to go let him get some sleep"." "Are you surs my husband and that girl haven't left the city?" she asked. "They didn't go from sny regular rail road station." ststed Bill Wolf, with con viction. Ned Warner at about the same tlms received a report of similar discourage ment from the long, lean, lanky detcc live. There has been found no trace of Juno Warner nor of Blye. In one of the big department stores June was taken up to the manageress of the French salon; then Tommy went away, and presentely June, whose face and figure, carriage and manrer, had been grimly Inspected and approved, waa being Instructed la the art of parading ic a gown and of displaying the proper degree of elegant Insolence to Impress customers. "Your nams here will be Therese," said the manageress. "You haven't dose this before, have you?" , "No." June 's voice waa faint and weak. She had a queer feeling In her stomach, and her eyes ( began to widen agaia as she studied an appalling array of cosmetics. "Never mind. I'll be In and make yea up." At laat June was to know how It felt to earn one's own living, bbe had a mingled exhilaration and depression In the contemplation of that remarkable ex NjfffnfifttfrWmtf?wfFMfirti k; ;vr The Cost of High Living I, r :' ' f ' V..;'-il:wi, tTo Be Continued Tomorrow.) is not in dollars and cents alone, but in the breaking down oi mose vita iuncuons ot trie body that bring happiness and long life. Neither the high cost of living nor the cost of high living need disturb the man or woman who knows Two of these crisp, brown loaves of Shredded Whole Wheat, served with hot milk, make a warm, nourishing, satisfying meal and the total cost is not over five cents. It supplies all the human body needs to work on or play on. Keeps the stomach sweet and clean and the bowels healthy and active. Sill IT a. Iff. in, ',. .V Two Shredded Wheat BiacuiU, heated in the oven to restore crispneae, served with hot milk or cream, make a complete, nourishing', satisf vinf meal at a total cost of fire or six cent. Also delicious with fruits. TRISCUIT is the Shredded Wheat Wafer, eaten as a toast with butter or soft cheese, or as a substitute for white flour bread or crackers. !...i!rl. mm. 1 !: V. "i.i,.. in. .ih !,... !'!'?.. Made only by The Shredded Wheat Company, Niagara Fails, N. Y. 'It...... -v... '"Il Illtll... "I III it.. "771 'III "in 1 "' ' 'r7,-' ill''ll'!l "IMIIHl ' i '' i !