TI1K ilKK: OMAHA, lllljKMUY, ! hliiilJAUY 4, WIS
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Girls Should Be Taught
Their Duties at Home
Miss Latlirop's IMan to Kducate Young Wonirn In lloiisr
hold Economy is AVIse Mid Timely. : s : :
ft
By ELLA AVHEELEB WILCOX.
Copyrigh, 1015, Ptnr Company.
.Miss Julia Lathrop, chief of the child
ren bureau, advances the theory that
girls should be taught household economy
between graduation from school and ma
riage.
"Women are the
ral spenders of the
world, " said Miss
I-athrop, "and we
must Admit they are,
r.ot -so wise on the
aubjeot' as they
vhoulfl be: I be.
licve a new era of
home education Is
about to dawn."
Outside of a
school of eugenics
and sex ' hygiene
for men graduates
there could bo no
t-'reater impetus
given to the world
for the Improvement of the home life
find the coming generations than such an
Intermediary course as JJlss Lathrop sug
gests. Woman has always been regarded
as the keeper of the "home, and the pro
Alder of comforts for husband and child
ren out of the proceeds of the man's In
come. But she has made a rather ques
tionable showing of efficiency when we
realize how long she has been engaged
In the occupation.
There was a book published In r tha
early fifties by Alexander' Walker which
discourses on woman in every relation
to life. Speaking of her duties, Mr.
Walker says:
"Woman, therefore. Is , fit only for
sedentary occupations, and necessarily
remains much in the Interior of the
house, in which alone her chief duties
can be performed. I
"Perhaps the most Importantof her
natural duties, though first indicated
after that of clothing, is the preparation
of food for her family, I call this a
jiatural duty, not merely because it be
longs to the domestic occupations which
are naturally those of woman, but be
cause it originates in the strictly per
sonal circumstances of nourishing her In
fant. As more abundant or different
nutriment, is required, she gradually sub-
ntltutcs the milk of Cvi cow. Repeating
this for an Increasing family, she Is
naturally and inevitably led to prepare
the food of the whole.
"She Is evidently the natural origin of
the mother being the sole or chief cook
of her family. She who escapes from all
these duties is an unnatural being, not
a woman; and that deformity. If not
disease, Is the punishment of their neg
lect is demonstrated in the beautiful
forms of the arms. In the pictures of our
grandmothers, compared with the shape
less, flaccid and skinny members of the
young women of our own times."
Times have changed since Mr.
Walker wrote those words, and woman
Is quite as much at home In outdoor life
and sports as man. She Is an able rival
In athletics, and her sphere of activity
has enlarged.
But her skill in making and maintain
ing a home of beauty and comfort eco
nomically has not increased st the same
rale. A school of home education where
all school and college graduates entered
Immediately after receiving their diplo
mas for mental achievement would be of
the utmost value to the world. A two or
three years' course ought to be sufficient,
and the diploma received from this Insti
tution would be of greater value to hu
manity than all degrees and honors pre
viously won.
America would plar itself in the front
ranks as a world Improver if It estab
lished a national institution where tuition
could be obtained at a nominal price, or
absolutely free, leaving pupils to provide
only for board and personal expenses.
Let Miss Lathrop enlarge on her great
ideal and nike It a material success;
then let us have a post-graduate school
for young men- who have left college
Which educates them In the high ideals
of. home lifo and fatherhood. If we per
fect iv.buien as home keepers and moth
ers we, must fit men to be worthy of
them.
Every day divorces are granted to
women for all sorts of causes.
Men must be educated In eugenics;
they must be taught the great law of
self-control, and they must understand
the high meaning of the words husband
and father. Then we will find marriage
growing to be a success and divorce an
obsolete word.
Read it Here See it at the Movies.
f r
' By special arrangement for this paper a
photo-drama corresponding to the install
ments ot "Runaway June" may now be
smn at tha leading, moving picture the
aters. Br arrangement made with the
Mutual Film corporation It is not only
psible to read "Runaway June" each
day, but also afterward to see moving
pictures illustrating our story.
(Copyright, 1916, by Serial Pulblcatlon
Corporation.)
THIRD EPISODE.
June Finds Work.
CHAPTER III. (Continued.)
"What am I to understand by this, Mrs.
Blye?" he Inquired.
"You ought to know, you!" gruffly
charged "Sneaky Tavls, who had followed
the. others, and, whirling. Tie pointed at
the cr.rlcature. "That's her husband!"
"Shut up!" squawked Mrs. Elys and
went home.
Gilbert Blye at that time was quite far
from tha scene of' Honorla'a capture or
even of .Ned's wanderings. He was dining
with Tommy Thomas, and a rather elderly
woman, and a doll-like gtrl with swiftly
advancing crow's feet at the corners of
her eyes, and Orln Cunningham, and a
heavy lidded, short haired, big man named
Kdwards, whom they called T. J. With
tha arrival of the coffee Blye told the
time from a tiny gold wat the only
one he carried now. , ,
"The runaway bride!" laughed Cun
ningham. -"I'm In a hurry," Blye explained. "I
told you when we- came here that I had
to leave' at 8 o'clock."
"Of course we know where you are
gplng," Tommy challenged him,
June was sitting In her longely .little
bedroom waiting for Marie, whom she
IlM sent out to a drug store for toilet
articles. Mrs. Boales suddenly knocked.
"A gentleman to see Miss Justin." she
announced; "a gentleman with a black
beard and a diamond ring and a gold
filling In one tooth. He says it's Mr.
BJye. I lit the parlor lamp for him."
June wondered what she should do,
Ned Warjier, aiding aimlessly and din
consolatcly on a street car and looking
out earnestly at every passerby, sud
dfptly caught sight of one pedestrian who
made his heart Jump. Marie! She was
Jogjlng Industriously alorg with a bundl
under her arm and a very clear idea of
direction apparent in her very opoed. Nel
ran after her. At the Foalea if tor Marie
heard the sound of running footsteps,
turned with normal curiosity, caw Ned.
let herself In at the door and clqsed It
with a slam, snapped on the night lock
and flew upstairs.
"He's coming. Miss June!" she cried.
"Mr. Ned!"
Ned! June's heart leaped within her,
aad for a moment she was flooded with
a mad Impulse to run down and be folded
In his arms and forgiven. No! She must
be strong for her own sake and for bis.
f?r the sake of their ultimate mutual self
respect and the fullness of the love which
uan be founded on that alone!
"Meet ma at that little hotel to which
' we were first going," she directed Marie
hastily, and, snatching her hat and coat,
sh hurried down the stairs and out of
the back door.
June had forgotten Gilbert Blye abso
lutely, but ba had not forgotten, Iter, lie
saw June in flight and followed her. -
Mrs. Boales answered a violent knock
ing at the door to find herself confronted
y the wild-eyed New Warner.
'"Where's my wife?" he demanded.
"What's her name?"
"June, fihe's here! I saw her mull Jut
come In! Marie! Where re they?'"
"That's her! Mrs. Boats u 1 1. a. J
"Some rails her Moors and some Warner
and some Justin, but her name's always
June. There's a black whiskered man to
pee. .her now. . Name's Blye. He's ln.the
parlor." And she craned in at the pajriar
door with scarcely a shift of her position.
"No he ain't. Has ha dared to go up to
her room In my house?"
Ned burst past her and sprang up the
stairs.
"First door to the right," yelled Mrs.
Boals.
' Nothing happened. Ned burst In at the
first door to the-right. The room was
emstv! "
Then ' up climbed Mayme' Bates the
maid.
"If It's Miss, Justin you're hunting,"
said Mayme, "t'saw, her and a black
whiskered gentleman ro out of the back
door not more than three minutes ago!"
Alluring Harbingers of Spring
Republished by Special Arrangement with Harper's Bazar.
Hy IlKATBICK FAIIU'AX.
A -Hat trimmed with a black
shirred silk pompon. The para
sol has a magpie rosette decorating
the carved white wood handle.
Something between sunflower
and cart-wheef, made of black
faille ribbon, lends the eclat to this
barnyard straw turban. A plaited
frill and embroidery in front make
up a new neck-pece.
A. white faille hat with black
fantasy, black kid glove
stlched in' white, a high, white lace
collar touched in black, and an ap
propriate parasol.
It's a checkered affair this
silk sweater, scarf and cap,
though there are splashes of white
in the cap, scarf and cuffs.
T? The cocked hat of 1915 is of
sand-colored straw, banded In
blue to match the saucy neck-fixing,
dotted and scalloped la blue.
F Would you drink a cup of tea
without raising your veil? Then
hie yourself and secure a tea-cup
veil. Decidedly It will save you much
bother and give you a feeling of up-to-dateness.
The very latest blouse, hrgh or
low in the neck, of white broad
cloth, with concessions to the roll)
la ire In the braiding. The hat was
borrowed from a Highlander.
H It weeps not the girl but tbe
veil, attached by two niolro
bands to the hat; white kid gloves
embroidered in black.
, Ned Warner rlunged down the stairs
faster than he had gone up and slammed
out of the back door to find himself con
fronted by the endless universe! To the
right or to the left? And when he reached
the alley mouth, whlo way then? Right
or left?
In the meantime the driven June, hur
rying aimlessly, looked, back at every
turning to see If the man she loved were
following her.
At each turning a dark figure, quicker
than she, spran intn Mdlnv behind tree
trunk or gatepost or doorway or con
selecting each hiding place before .he left
the last. And the figure was Gilbert Blye,
black vsndyked, swaggering of gait and
smllip?. '. .
FOURTH EPISODE.
Poor Little Runaway June.
CHAPTER I.
"Shanks" McGee, carrying one soiled
newspaper for a bluff and collecting
money for the newsboys' home as another
bluff, suddenly paused In his absorbing
attempt to whistle through a broken tooth
as he saw coming up the dingy side street'
toward the Hotel Daniel a beautiful
young girl. She was turning to look
backward over her shoulder at every few
steps.
Oh, gee! A man was following her!
And he was dodging along froin tree to
tree and from doorway to doorway, and
every time he saw the girl look, back he
ducked! The man had black' whiskers,
whittled down to a fins point just under
his chin, snd he carried himself with the
ease which only a thorough scoundrel can
acquire. Shanks McGee stood petrified,
then took a long, deep breath and hurried
up to Hie corn ni'. He flattened his al
ready flat nose against the broad plate
glass window of the modest Hotel Daniel.
The beautiful young girl concealed all
that she could of 'her timidity as she
walked through the door with what ah
thought to be a strictly businesslike man
ner. Seven men who had been morbidly
tying their reHpectlve cuspidors Immedi
ately straightened up and looked their
handsomest. One of them , looked bold.
and another, a decorative Frenchman,
looked debonair. The beautiful girt
strode straight up 'to the desk.
"A room with a Imth, please," she re
quested. '
The clerk, an Indifferently aged man,
held the register a moment while , he
studied the now guest of tha house.
"Any luggage, miss?"
The girl, disconcerted, had reaourse to
her only armor. Now she shyly cast up
at him her great, soft, expressive eyes,
and the clerk felt ashamed of himself.
He swung the register around to her.
"My maid will be here presently with
my clothes." The voice was soft and
sweet.
(To lie Cuntlnued Tomorrow.)
Joy and sorrow are the expressions of
the ImiKnIunl. In rlrh natura both are
IfMlii'Vil. Probably Keats nver wrote a
finer lni-. from the point of view of hu
nmuitly than hi "Welcome. Joy and wel
come sorrow."
In his "Sentimental Journey" Iauranre
Sterne wrote "I pity the aian who can
travel from lan to Beeriheba and cry
" 'tis all barren."
Willi the on" exception of health.
chaiiKliiK circumstances mnke llttlo dlf-
fi'icn r tit the happiness of man. Per
Imps this sentence sounfls very radical,
but it rxprisxes an ab' flute truth. Joy
and sorrow are actually modes of being.
Think over your list of acquaintances;
surely ou know some Individual who.
without money, without position, ven
without love, sings at toll and In the
normal expression of a healthy human
bring hopes for happiness and endures
pain and sorrow as part of the very fine
whole that life Is.
The man or woman who says "1 don't
see why I was ever born, I don't see tlist
life Is worth living." probably has ln-:
finitely more of Die world's riches in
gold and social position than has soras ,
person of whom he would speak pityingly
as a "poor wretch." And yet that same
poor wretch In the possession "of a happy
nature Is many times richer than the
crabbed pessimist who pities him.
In the most splendid Joy there must
always be he possibility of tragedy. '
That is life. There is nothing In this
over which one must grow pessimistic. ;
Because some one In whose l love you
rejoice and are happy may leava you is
no reason why you should be pessimistic
shout the durability of human relations
or the kindness of fate.
In the most terrible sorrow one. need
not perish. Out of sorrow grows under
standing of life, sympathy with both Its
beauty and ugliness and an ability to feel
strongly and to bear well. So K one's
portion Is for a long time sorrow,' there
la nothing In that about which to become
pessimistic.
There Is much that Is terrible In lire.
That has to be recognised. But there la
nothing which Is unendurable. And in
bearing sorrow well there Is as much
grandeur as In the thrill of the greatest
Joy and rapture.
The pessimist Is tha man who looks on
life end .says: "'Tie all barren." For him
thure la everywhere dull gray news, no
hope or Joy, no pride In enduring pain.
It Is not what the world does to -him
that makes him a pessimist. It Is his
Inability to react actively on life. In his
own nature there is no seed of life's fer
tility, lie Is empty of any real feeling.
He Is sorry for himself and scornful as
to what the world has to offer hlra or
others. Life for him la a dull and arid
waste. Ills soul ran bear no flowers
and has no respect for anything in na
ture, ba It flower or weed.
Blindness Is tha terrible affliction of
the pessimist. He looks on life and cries
that it Is bare. He simply cannot sea
anything but tha horrible monotony In
which the worst always happens.
However much suffering strong na
ture Is called on to bear, it reacts in the
very bearing, becomes stronger for moie
enduring, and if Joy comes at last, in
splendid and unfettered in its happiness.
Nothing from the outside nothing the
world gives or takes CQUld make us happy
or unhappy except as oue own natures
reacted. The nature that can find Joy In
the mere fact that a day la sunshiny Is
optimistic. But the nature that can find
hopeful sunshine In the midst of dark
gray clouds la splendidly free front tha
curse of pessimism. . .
" m
Vktrola IV, 1S
Oak
HP1L ' 7 n H
ii oe v nco'oua Drains
world's best: mua'sic into
i
lome for every oiie to eiijoy.
tth
th
e
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You are cordially invited to inspect
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131 1-131 3 Faroam St. Omaha, Neb.
Tree Victrola Recital Friday from 3 to 4 P. M.
Branch at
334 BROADWAY
Council Bluffs
Corner 15th and P Tl O
Harney, Omaha. ILWfl'MR U .1
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It enables you to hear the
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There are Victors and
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at all Victor dealers.
Victor Talking Machine Co.
Camden, N. J.
WTi "ii
Geo. E. Micki
Victrolas Sold by
A. MOBPE CO.,
1513-15 Douglas Street. Omaha; and
407 Veit Broadway. - Council Bluffs, la.
Irailds Stores
Talking Machine Department
in the Pompeian Room
ft
Victrola XVI, $200
Mahogany or oak