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. . : : : :
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(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.
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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Wheat Wafer, eaten as a toast with butter or soft cheese, or as a substitute for
white flour bread or crackers.
!...i!rl.
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Made only by The Shredded Wheat Company, Niagara Fails, N. Y.
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