Cosmopolitan 1917-12: Vol 64 Iss 1
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COSMOPOLITAN VOL.LXIV DECEMBER, NO. Contents AUTHORS ARTICLES AND FEATURES ILLUSTRATORS The Evening Hour—Cover Design : . . Harrison Fisher Herbert Kaufman . Stars, Not Scars ' 13 Ella Wheeler Wilcox . Knowledge (Poem) , . W. T. Benda P 14 Rex Beach . : . On the Trail of the Cowardly The Stage To-day 49 Arnold Bennett . . Some Axioms of War-Work . W. T. Benda . . 68 Lillie Langtry . . Myself and Others 84 George Ade P . The Fable of the Rise and Flight of the Winged Insect John T. McCutcheon . 90 SHORT STORIES Fannie Hurst. . On the Heights . , . T. D. Skidmore 16 Gouverneur Morris. The Other Lobster . . James Montgomery Flagg 38 Edith Macvane . . For She Loved Much . . George Gibbs . 43 Samuel Merwin . . The Stimulant . Howard Chandler Christy 61 George Randolph Chester In Came a Fat Man . . Charles E. Chambers 78 NOVELS Owen Johnson . . Virtuous Wives . ; . George Gibbs : . 24 Elizabeth Robins Camilla . . Alonzo Kimball . Robert W. Chambers . The Restless Sex , . W. D. Stevens . 70 G. L. President. 8. 8. CarvaLno, Treasurer. W. G. Lanepox, Secretary, 119 West 40th Street, New $1.50 A YEAR Canapiay PostaGE, 60 CENTS EXTRA; FOR OTHER COUNTRIES, $1.00 ExTRA 20 CENTS A COPY Published monthly by International Magazine Company. Entered at. the Post-Office of New York as second-class mail-matter. We cannot begin subscriptions with back numbers. Unless otherwise directed, we begin all subscriptions with the current issue. If & m0 wish to renew your subscription to begin any number of months in advance, state the month. e expiration date of current subscriptions is always shown on the wrapper. Cosmopolitan, 119 West 40th Street, New York COPYRIGHT, TOIT, BY INTERNATIONAL M.GAZINE COMPANY (COSMOPOLITAN MAGAZINE) ALL RIGHTS RESERVED UNDER THE TEN MS OF THE FOURTH AMERICAS INTERNATIONAL CONVENTION OF ARTISTIC AND LITERARY COPYRIGHT | Ms | | | 4 | { = = — = 3 |
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Guide Schools for Girls Schools for Boys and Girls FOR GIRLS miles from Boston All studies except English elective Preparatory: finishing school. Advanced Elective Courses for high school graduates. College A fully Pit Voice, Violin, Pipe Organ, with noted men. Domestic Science, New Gym- nasium with swimming pool. New building. Exception | tunities, ith a delightful home life. 75 Summit Street NEWTON, mass. Lasell Seminary Advanced work for high school graduates. Music, art, household sciences. Secretarial Course. Basketball, tennis, horseback riding and go Twenty pores thirteen buildings. WINSLOW, cipal. MASSACHUSETTS, 109 Woodiand "Road. or Girls. 25 miles from 60th Year. Oldest School Walnut Lane School {9 for Girls in Philadelphia. Development of well-poised personality, through intel- lectual,moral,social, physical training.Courses:High School Graduates; Home-making; Cane Preparatory, Special. All out-door sports. Miss S. EDNA JOHNSTON, A.B. Prin. F | Howard Seminary Boston. College preparatory and general courses. ney Economics. Art, Music, Interior decorating. e gymnasium. Horseback riding, tennis, golf, pokey. basketball Upperandlowerschool. 50 pupils. $600-$7( MR. AND Mrs, C. P. KENDALL, pha West Bridgewater. Principals. School Standish Manor School able to keep pace in their studies with others of their own age. Intimate home care. Special department for young girls. Unusual advantages. 75 acres. Modern Manor House. Address Mrs. ELLEN C. DRESSER, Principal. MASSACHUSETTS, Halifax, near Plymouth. Bradford Academy For Young Women. 115th year. Boston. Address the Princi cing ul, Miss LAurA A. Knott, A. M. Thirty miles from MASSACHUSETTS, Bradford. For Girls. Beautiful The Campbell Schoo suburban location. Residence and new school building. General and special courses. Music, Art, Domestic Science. Personal atten- tion. Out-of-door sports. A H. CAMPBELL, Ph. Mrs. A. H. CAMPBELL, Principals. CONNECTICUT, Windsor, 261 Broad Street. At Riverside Drive, over- The Scudder Schoo looking the Hudson. For girls. Day and boarding. Myron T. SCUDDER, Pres. A modern school meeting problems of today. Personal EeMciency and Preparedness, Home Economics, Secre- tarial, etc. Gymnasium, games, swimming. C.S. SCUDDER, New YorK, New York City, 316 W_ 72nd St. Registrar. Boarding school for girls and young wo- Glen Eden men. On the Hudson River, in the High- lands, near New York City. All advantages. Select patronage. Social training. Outdoor life. No examinations. ireatly enlarged. For booklet and views mention this nagazine and address the Director. NEw York, @oughkeepsie. FREDERIC MARTIN TOWNSEND. Historic Junior College. Girls Southern College and Young Women. 55th year. %400-No extras. Social Training. Two-year College Courses. Preparatory and Finishing Courses. Music, Art, Expres- sion, Domestic Science, Tennis, Basketball, Gymnasium. Students from many states. Ideal climate. Non-sectarian. Va.,Petersburg,206 College Pl. ARTHUR KYLE DAVIS,A.M. For Women. In the Valley of Virginia College Virginia, famed for health and beauty. Elective, Preparatory and full Junior College courses. Music, Art, Expression. Domestic Science. Catalogue. Address ’ MATTIE P. HARRIS, President. Mrs. GERTRUDE HARRIS BOATWRIGHT, Vice-President. VIRGINIA, Roanoke. od A Select School for Girls and Sullins College Young Women. Standard Hizh School and Jr. College courses with unusual advantages in Music, Art, Expression and Domestic Science. Beau- tiful campus of 35 acres, gymnasium and swimming pool. For Catalogue and Book of Views address VIRGINIA, Bristol, Box A. W.E. MARTIN, Ph.D., Pres. Virginia Intermont College 33rd year. Students from 20 states. Preparatory and Junior College. Music, Art, Expression, Domestic Science. Music a specialty. Bracing climate.Alt.1900 ft.New gym- nasium. Swimming pool. ete $225 to $300. Catalog. VA., —, Box 124. H. G. NOFFSINGER, GER, A.M M., Pres. outhern. _Semina FOR G'RLS AND YOUNG WOMEN . ‘n Blue Ridge Vountains. rare health record, Coileze Preparatory, ce:tificate privileges: ©pecial for High School rraduates: Exp-ession Art, Music, Pipe Organ: Domestic Science; Busi- ness: Personal attention to manners, character, Sports: L arge grounds, Students from every sec- ‘ tion. Rate, $295. Catalo; SOUTHERN SEMINAR PENNSYLVANIA, Philadelphia. Germantown, Box’ E Devon Manor For girls, 16 miles from Philadelphia. tng me = 16 acres. College-preparatory, junior-college courses, Soc ial Se Service, Secretaryship, Household Arts and Sciences, Taek Music, Art, Arts and Crafts, Seren, Kindergarten. PENNSYLVANIA, Devon, Box 4 School for girls. Conve- Bishopthorpe Manor fientto N.Y, and Phila. College preparatory and finishing courses. Two years cultural course for high school graduates. New gymna- sium and swimming pool. — Dept. Secretarial work. LAUDE N. WYANT, Principal. PENNSYLVANIA, South Bethichem, Box 237 For Girls. Academi Grand River Institute Strictly high-grade, co-educational, preparatory school. rate $300 per year for board, room and tuition possi- ble through large endowment. M usic, gia Domestic Science. New Dormitory and Gymnas! Ou10, Austinburg, Box2. EARLE W. HAMLIN, Prin. n the foothills of the White Tilton Seminary } Mountains. For Young Men and Women. Preparation for qetens or business Courses for High School graduates. Home economics. 7 bulld- ings. Athletics. ae Sg for young boys. Moderate cost. PLIMPTON, Principal. NEW HAMPSHIRE, Tilton 32 School Street. Business Schools 4 Of Business Administration. Course Pejrce School includes Banking, Accounting, Busi- ness Management, Commercial Law, Business Corre- spondence and other Practical subjects. Secretarial courses for young women. Write for 53d year book. Address THE SECRETARY. PENNSYLVANIA, Philadelphia, Pine St., "West of Broad. The Birmingham Schoo or College Prepara- tory Courses. Beautiful and healthful location in the moun- tals. Main Line P. R. R. New gymnasium, swimming pool, sleeping Denon. Physical training. Catalogue. R. Grier, President. P. S. MouLToN, A B., PENNSYLVANIA, Birmingham, Box 101. Headmaster. Penn Hal School for Girls. College Preparatory, Modern Language and al Courses, ol. Rates . MAGILL, Chambersburg, Box AM., Prin. For young women. Beechwood School {i Ww practical and cultur- al. Preparatory and college departments. Music, Art, Domestie Science, Secretaryshi de Swimming Pool, Athletic Fiel H. REASER, Ph. D, President. PENNSYLVANIA, Jenkintown, Box 400. 4 A ieee School for Darlington Seminary Girls, 60 acre estate, in Pennsylvania's finest country. Language, Art, Music, Expression, Arts and Crafts, and ‘Courses. College Preparation. Catalogue and View CHRISTINE FAAS BYb, "president. PENNSYLVANIA, West Chester, Box 600. For Youn; MarthaWashington Seminary Women. In finest residential section of National Capital. Two years’ course for Hizh School graduates, general and special courses. Domestic Se ience. Outdoor sports. SDWARD W. THOMPSON, Principal. District or COLUMBIA, W: aihington, 1601 Conn. Ave. e A boarding school for girls. Regular Paul Institute High School and College Prepara- tory Courses. Special Courses: The Arts, Journalism, Short Story Writing, Domestic Science, Business and Kindergarten Normai Training Courses, Parliamentary Law Mrs. NANETTE B. PAUL, LL.B., D. C., Washington, 2107 S St., N.W President. Bristol School National Schoo | Fine Art Elective, Preparatory, Academic and two years’ Colle- | giate Courses. Diploma Course in Music. Separate French Residence. Capital advantages. Athletics. Miss ALICE A. BRISTOL, Principal. Dist. OF Cou. Washington. Mintwood Place & 19th St. Home School for Girls. Our location in Fairmont #, best residential section permits a rare com- bination of country life with the unique educational advan- tages of the National Capital. Regular and special courses. Advanced Courses for High School graduates. Supervised athletics. Individual care. ARTHUR RAMSAY, Prin. DIsT2IcT OF COLUMBIA, Washington For Girls. Exceptional advan- Colonial School tages for study in the National Capital to those who had planned to study in Europe. College preparation. Music, Art, Travel, Secretarial, Spe- cial Courses for High School graduates. Athletics. Catalog. MIss JESSIE TRUMAN, Associate Principal. Dist. oF Cou, Washington, 1531 Eighteenth St. Chevy Chase School girls, a preparation for womanhood. Washington's finest suburb. Social and civic advantages of national capital. Thorough modern education. Catalog on ea uest. FREDERIC ERNEST FARRINGTON, Ph.D., Headmaster. DISTRICT OF COLU BIA, Washington. Non-Secta- Brenau College-Conservatory Wisk est altitude of any college for women east of the Missis- sippi; largest number regular college students any college for women in Georgia. Music and oratory unsurpassed. For catalog and illustrated book address GeEorGIA, Gainesville, Box B BRENAU. ior irlsand Young Women. A Ward-Belmont school of national patronage and restige. Ideal climate and sanitation. In 1 iterary Work, Musi*, Art, Expression, Home Economics and Physical Training the facilities and instruction meet the exacting demands of a most discriminating . atronage. TENNESSEE, Nashville, Box A. WARD-BELMOVT. Nashville College For Young Women. Preparatory, College, Conserva- tory Courses. Splendid new fire-proof buildings. Twelve- acre campus. Small Classes. Personal attention. Address RicHarD G. Cox, A.M., President. TENNESSEE, Nashville, Nashville College, Box A. enter then will graduate in 1919. Eastman School of Business* Thoro training in every business pursuit. Actual prac- tice. Accounting. Banking. Civil Service. Secretarial and Teachers’ courses. Both sexes. Has trained over 50,000 of successful men. Open all year.Enter any week-day.Catalog NEw YORK, Poughkeepsie, Box 655. C. C. GAINES. Schools of Physical Education AmericanCollegeofPhysicalEducation Two year normal course, preparing high school gradu- ates for well paid positions as physical directors. Large building, excellent equipment. Co-educational. Mid- year term opens Feb. Ist, 1918. View book free. ILLINOIS, "Chicago, 4200 Grand Blvd., Dept. 5. oF 8) Chicago Normal School PHYSICAL Two year course for Physical Directors and Playground Workers. Mid-year class opens Feb. Ist. Students who For catalog address CHICAGO NORMAL SCHOOL OF PHYSICAL EDUCATION. ILLINOIS, Chicago, 430 S. Wabash Ave., Box 23. Columbia Normal School EDUCATION For Women. Two year Normal course. Accredited. Prepares for Physical Directors, Playground Supervisors, Dancing Teachers, etc. College building with large dormi- tory.Mid-year class begins Feb.1,1918. Free catalog address ILL., Chicago, 3358 Michigan "Ave., Box2. REGISTRAR. Professional Schools 20.¥9! Wish our assist- School? If you do not find one suited to y' our requirements advertised in the magazine write to us. Give location, aporoximate amount you are willing to spend, and aze of prospective pupil. COSMOPOLITAN CLUB NEW YOrK, Times Square Station, Box 15 Schools of Domestic Science OF DOMESTIC ART AND SCIENCE. Two and three-year courses. Home application and cultural development specialized. Department, Interior Decoration and Music. Exceptional Dormitories. Eleven-acre campus. 50 gradu- ates fink Complete catalogue D upon request. D. C., Washington, 2650 Wisconsin Avenue. Schools of Kindergarten Training National Kindergarten ELEMENTARY Kindergarten and elementary —— loma, two years. Mid-year term Jan. 28 to 9, iP covering Freshman course. Great saving of ear for ‘mid-year gradu- ates. Accredited. Dormitories on College grounds. Lllus- trated catalog. Address ILLINOIS, Chicago, 3044 Michigan Blvd., Box 52. Schools for Backward Children For the care and trainin, The Hedley School of children of retarded and undeveloped mentality. Individual instruction, ideal home life, mother's care and association with normal children. J. R. HEDLEY, M. D.,, Resident sician. RS. J. ROGER HEDLEY (N. Y. Univ.), Prin. PENNSYLVANIA, Philadelphia, Germantown. For Exceptional Chil- Miss Woods’ School Chit a suburban home, for the care and training of children who, through mental or physical disability, are unable to attend public or private schools. 14 miles from Philadel- phia. Booklet. MOLLIE A. Woops, Principal. PENNSYLVANIA, Roslyn 0 you Wish our assistance in the Boarding Schools} choice of a school? If you do not find one suited to your requirements advertised in the magazine write to us. Give location, approximate amount you are willing to spend, age of prospective pupil and any information you see fit. COSMOPOLITAN NEw YorK, Times Square Station, Box 155. CLU: Normal Training Schsols The Technical Normal S~hool Accredited; training school in special branches only. One and two year courses in Public School Music. Drawing, Domestic Science, Domestic Art, Physical Education. Graduates assisted to positions. For catalog address REGISTRAR. ILLINoIs, Chicago, 3207 Michigan Blvd. > For Girls and Yo Frances Shimer School lege, 4 years Academy. Music, Art, gente” Home Eco- no and Teachers Course. | Certificate privi 35 acres. 8 buildings. 65th year. Separate Paildine f for 1st and 2nd year academic students. Catalog. ILLINOIS, Mt.Carroll, Box 606.REV.WM.P.MC¥* EE, Dean. For Young Women and Monticello Seminary Girls. 79th year. Junior College. College Preparatory courses. Certificate courses in Music, Art, Expression, Domestic Science. Roof Gar- on for outdoor exercise. Sun Parlor, Swimming Pool, All sports. “ILLINOIS, Godfrey. Miss MARTINA C. ERICKSON, Prin. Thomas Normal Training School Devoted exclusively to equipping young men and women to teach Music, Drawing, Home Economics, Physical Training, Manual Training, Industrial Arts and Penmanship. One and two-year courses. 28th year we have been placing graduates in paying positions. Dormi- tories. Strong faculty, beautiful location, adequate equip- ment. For catalog and full ES "address £ SECRETARY. MICHIGAN, Detroit, 3022 West Grand” Boulevard. Fr (osm | M ount Ida Year Book on | year spent at Aviantic City. Work continues without | PY interruption. New gymnasium and swimming | | | = — | | | | | | |
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mr COSMOPOLITAN VOL.LXIV JANUARY, 1918 NO. 2 Contents AUTHORS ARTICLES AND FEATURES ILLUSTRATORS The Snow-Bird —Cover Design : . Harrison Fisher. 4 Herbert Kaufman . The Carol of the Guns : 11 jy Ella Wheeler Wilcox . Then and Now (Poem) . W. T. Benda ‘ ys Rex Beach . , . On the Trail of the Cowardly The Stage To-day ‘ ; 49 ) Arnold Bennett . - A Dangerous Lecture to a { Young Woman ; . W. T. Benda ; . 66 Lillie Langtry . Myself and Others 84 George Ade ‘ . The Fable of the Straight and Narrow Path Leading to the Refreshment Counter . John T. McCutcheon . 88 SHORT STORIES Fannie Hurst. . Nightshade _T. D. Skidmore . . 20 Samuel Merwin . . The White Star : . Howard Chandler Christy 42 Gouverneur Morris. The Other Lobster ‘ . James Montgomery Flagg 60 George Randolph Chester Virgin Soil . Charles E. Chambers . 68 Arthur B. Reeve - The Door of Dread . . Edward L. Chase . . 79 NOVELS Booth Tarkington . Penrod Jashber . ; . Worth Brehm ; . 14 Elizabeth Robins - Camilla . ; : . Alonzo Kimball . . 34 Owen Johnson- . . Virtuous Wives . . George Gibbs ; = Robert W. Chambers . The Restless Sex . W. D. Stevens... . G. L. President. 8. S. CarvaLuo, Treasurer. W. G. Lanopon, Secretary, 119 West 40th Street, New York $1. 50 A YEAR CANADIAN POSTAGE, 560 CENTS EXTRA; FOR OTHER COUNTRIES, $1.00 EXTRA 20 CENTS A COPY ; Published monthly by International Magazine Company. Entered at the Post-Office of New York as second-class mail-matter. We cannot begin subscriptions with back numbers. Unless otherwise directed, we begin all subscriptions with the current issue. If you wish to renew your subscription to begin any number of months in advance, state the month. The expiration date of current subscriptions is always shown on the wrapper. Cosmopolitan, 119 West 40th Street, New York COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY INTERNATIONAL MAGAZINE COMPANY (COSMOPOLITAN MAGAZINE) ALL RIGHTS RESERVED UNDER THE TERMS OF THE FOURTH AMERICAN INTERNATIONAL CONVENTION OF ARTISTIC AND LITERARY COPYRIGHT 3 | a | q ; | | 1 0 3 E. 3. d. Cc. vO ng u- ing ied eal nal n ren ble lel- —— | the | not the unt and NAL ted. ers’ ) two | stic ates and nics, and r we yrmi- juip- LY
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Educational Guide Schools for Girls FOR GIRLS miles from Boston ratory: finis! "Comes school College full, Domestic Science, New Gym- nasium with swimming pool, New building. Piano Art Domestic Science Costume Design Exceptional o ities, oice Expression Short Story Writing French “ School arp wing ‘irst to Injure panis| on 75 Summit Street Penn Hall Mandolin Millinery Home Nursing Sociology ie N EWT 0 N Certificate privileges. Rooms with private bath. May each ATHLETICS: Horseback Riding; Swimming; Basketball; MASS. Hockey ; Country Tramping ; Dancing; Military Drill; iTennis. nterruptio. asium and swimming a $600. Catalogue and views. Address FRANK S. MAGILL, Miss S. Edna Johnston, A.6., Principal, Box E, Germantowa, Phi ia, Pa. PENNSYLVANIA, Chambersburg, Box N. A.M., Prin. Hishopthorpe PAanor Box 237, South Bethlehem, Pa, A school for girls offering exceptional copertunition in preparation for college or for life. Certificate rivileges. Special two-year finishing. for igh School graduates. Exceptional advantages in Music, Art, Domestic Arts and Science, Arts and ese and Expression. Secretarial work. Junior epartmen High, healt location, convenient to New York and Philadelphia. Outdoor s sports—Tennis, basket- ball, skating, Priding. New Gymnasium and Swim- ming Pool. Address CLAUDE N, WYANT, Principal 60th year. Oldest school for Girls in Philadelphia. City sad country advantages. Early registration is advisa all ipenicants this year could not be accommodated Development of well poised personality through intellectual, moral,social and physical training. COURSES: High "Schooi Graduates; Home-making; College Preparatory; General, General Conservatory, Music; Cultural and Practical. eas Lasell Seminary Advanced work for high school graduates. Music, art, household sciences. Secretarial Course, Basketball, — horseback riding and canoeing. thirtee buildings. G. M. WINSLOW, Ph.I Principal. MASSACHUSETTS, Auburndale, 109 “Wroodlaid Road. For Girls. 25 miles from Howard Seminary Boston. College preparatory and general courses. Household Economics. Art, Music, Interior decorating. Fine gy: oe. Horseback riding, tennis, golf, hockey, basketball. 50 pupils. $600-$700. Mr. ENDALL, ASSACHUSETTS, West pals Bradford Academy oung Women. 115th year. Address the Principal, Miss LauRA A. KNoTT, A. M. Bradford. ° The Special School Standish Manor School able to keep pace in their studies with others of their own age. Intimate home care. Special de partment for young girls. Unusual advantages. 75 acres. Modern Manor House. Address Mrs. ELLEN C. DRESSER, Principal. MASSACHUSETTS, Halifax, near Plymouth. The Campbell Schoo For Girls. Beautiful suburban location. po and new school building. General and speciat urses. Music, Art, Domestic Science. Personal tion. Out-of-door sports, A. H. CAMPBELL, Ph. H. CAMPBELL, CONNECTICUT, Windsor. 261 Broad Street. Miss Howe and Miss Marot's School A country boarding school for girls. College preparation, advanced academic and vocational courses. Horseback riding, field games and winter sports. Separate cottage for Junior department. Booklet. MAry LOUISE MAROT, CONNECTICUT, Thompson. Principal. A Select School for Girls and Sullins College Young Women. Standard High School and Jr. College courses with unusual advantages in Music, Art, Expression and Domestic Science. Beau- tiful campus of 35 acres, gymnasium and swimming pool. For Catalogue and Book of Views address Bristol, Box A. W.E. MARTIN, Ph.D., Pres. Southern College and Young Women. 55th year. $400-No extras. Social Training.T wo-year College Courses. Preparatory and Finishing Courses. Music, Art, Expres- sion, Domestic Science, Tennis, Basketball, Gymnasium. Students from many states. Ideal climate. Non-sectarian. Va.,Petersburg,206 College Pl. ARTHUR KYLE Davis,A.M. iris Virginia Intermont College $05,200 34th year. Students from 20 states. Preparatory and Junior College. Music, Art, Expression, Domestic Science. > Large campus. Bracing climate. New ol. Terms$225t0$300.Catalog. Bristol, Box 125. i. G. NOFFSINGER, A.M., Pres. For Girls and Young Wo- Southern Seminary then. year. In Blue Ridge, Mts. Rare health record. College Preparatory. Fin- ishing, Music, Pipe Organ,Art, Domestic Science, Business, etc. Students from every section of U. S. and outside, Recommended by BishopJ.H Vincent, Chicago. Rate $345. VIRGINIA, Buena Vista, Box 919 Hamilton College r Y Thirty miles from MASSACHUSETTS, Colleze Preparatory and Ju- nior College Courses. Cer- tificate privilege at Vassar, Smith, Mt. Holyoke. The second semester opens January 2sth. Five teachers of Music, Art, Expression and Domestic Science courses. $175 for the semester. For a, and bulletins, ardress KENTUCKY, Lexington. E. W. McD1arRmip, Pres. Historic Junior College. Girls | (Ine.) For young women: Beechwood School Widely practical and cultur- al. Preparatory and college departments. Music, Art, Domestic Science, Secretaryship, Kindergarten, Swimming Pool, Athletic Field. Address . REASER, Ph.D., President. PENNSYLVANIA, Jenkintown, Box 400. For Girls. Academic The Birmingham Schoo or College para- tory Courses.Beautiful and healthful location in the moun- tains. Main Line P. ew gymnasium, swimming pool, sleeping porch. Physical training. Catalogue. A. R. GRIER, President. MOULTON. A B., PENNSYLVANIA, Birmingham, Box 101. developing School for Darlington Seminary é Girls, 60 acre estate, in Pennsylvania's finest country. Language, Art, Music, Expression, Arts and Crafts, and Courses. College Preparation. Catalogue and Vie CHRISTINE FAAS BYE, President. PENNSYLVANIA, West Chester, Box 600. Headmaster. Devon Manor Forgiris, 16 miles from Philadelphia. 5 buildings, 16 acres. College-preparatory, ial Service, Secretaryship, Household, Arts and Sciences, Journalism, Music, Art, Arts ana Crafts, ~— Kindergarten. PENNSYLVANIA, Devon, Box od For Girls. Exceptional advan- Colonial Schoo tages for study in the National — to those who had planned to study in Europe. Gece preparation. Music, Art, Travel, Secretarial, 5) ial Courses for High School ‘graduates. Athietics. Catalog. MIss JESSIE TRUMAN, Associate Principal. DIsT. OF CoL., Washington, 153i Eighteenth St. Bristol School Elective, Preparatory, Academic and two years’ Colle- giate Courses. Diploma Course in usic. Separate French Residence. Capital we Athletics. Iss ALICE A. BRISTOL, Principal. Dist. oF Cou.,Washington, Mintwood Place & Toth St. F . Home School for Girls. Our location in airmont beat residential section permits a rare com- bination of country life with the unique educational advantages of the National Capital. Regular and special courses. Advanced Courses for High School graduates. Supervised athletics. Individual RAMSAY, DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA, Washingto’ Prin For Young Martha Washington Seminary Women.In finest residential section of National Capital. Two years’ course for High School graduates, general and special courses. Domestic Science. Outdoor sports. DWARD W. THOMPSON, Principal. DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA, Washington, 1601 Conn. Ave. Chevey Chase School Scormerly Chevy (Chase girls, a preparation for womanhood. Washington's finest | suburb. Social and civic advantages of national capital. Nashville College For Young Women. Preparatory, College, Conserva- tory Courses. Splendid new fire-proof buildings. Twelve- acre campus. Small attention. Address ARD G. A.M., President. TENNESSEE, Nashy ille, Nashville. College, Box A. For Girls and Young Women. A Ward-Belmont school of national patronage and pois. 3 Ideal climate and sanitation. In Literary Work, Ausic, Art, Expression, Home Economics and Physieai Training the facilities and instruction meet the exacting demands of a most patronage. TENNESSER, Nashville, Box A ARD-BELMONT. At Riverside Drive, over- The Scudder Schoo looking the Hueson. For girls. Day and boarding. MyYRON T. SCUDDER, Pres. A modern school meeting problems of today. Personal Efficiency and Preparedness. Home Moonomics, Secre- tarial, etc. Gymnasium, games, swimm S. SCUDDER, NEW YORK, New York City, 316 W. Teas St., Registrar. Boarding school for girls and young wo- Glen Eden men. On the Hudson River, in the High- lands, near_ New York City. All advantages. Select patronage. Social training. Outdoor life. No examinations. enlarged. For booklet ane views mention this magazine and address the Directo! NEW YORK, Poughkeepsie. FREDERIC MARTIN TOWNSEND. lege, 4 years Academy. Music, Art, Elocution, Home Eco- nomics. Secretarial and Teachers’ Course.’ Certificate rivileges. 35 acres. 8 buildings. 65th year. Separate uilding for lst and 2nd year academic students. Catalog. ILLINOIS, Mt.Carroll,Box606, Rev.WM.P.MCKEE, Dean. ; For Girls from 5 to 15. St. Martha's School from to of organized study and play. Eleven acres of a, All branches through eighth grade. Also sewing, cooking, swimming, ete. French, German, Drawing, Music, Industrial Arts. Miss EMMA Pease How ARD, Principal and Founder. ILLINOIS, Knoxville. 4 2 For Young Women and Monticello Seminary Gins, 79th year. Junior College. Cotes Preparatory courses. Certificate courses in Music, Art, Expression, Domestic Science. Roof Gar- den for outdoor exercise. ‘Sun Parlor, Swimming Pool, Gymnasium. All outdoor sports. ILLINOIS, Godfrey. MIss MARTINA C. ERICKSON, Prin. Conservatories of Music Normal Conservatory of Music A musical education at Penna. State Normal School, exceedingly low expenses, $285-$375. art, and manual training courses. atalog AMES E. AMENT, PhD. Prin. PENNSYLVANIA, Indiana Special ad- Ithaca of Music vantages for those who look forward to concert or educational work. All instruments, vocal, dramatic art, etc. Graduates hlling highest — available in America. Catalog. Distin- guished faculty. ddress THE REGISTRAR. NEW YorK, Ithaca, 2 DeWitt Park. Thorough modern education. Catalog on request. FREDERIC ERNEST FARRINGTON, Ph.D., DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA, Washington. A boarding school for girls. Regular Paul Institute fiigh'School and College Prepara- tory Courses. Special Courses: The Arts, Short Story Writing, Domestic Science, Business and Mrs. NANETTE PAUL, C., Washington, 2107 8 8t., N. By. n-Secta- Brenau College-Conservatory N°. High- est _? of any college for women east of the Missis- sipp' Standard A.B. course. Conservatory course in Mile School of Oratory. Summer School. Beautiful mod- er. VIRGINIA COLLEGE FOR WOMEN OANOKE, VA. One of the leading schools in on South. Modern buildings. Extensive campus. Located in the Vale ley of Virginia, famed for health and beauty of scenery. Elective, Preparatory and College Courses, Music, Art, Ex- pression, Domes- tieScience,under the Direction of European and American In- structors. Super- vised athletics. Students from 32 states. For cata- logaddress Mattie P. Harris, President "he. Gertrude Harris Boatwright, Vice-President ‘or catalog oo illustrated book address Gainesville, Box B BRENAU. Miss Mason’s School for Girls **The Castle’’ A suburban school in the Westches- ter hills overlook- ing the Hudson, minutes from New York. Grad- uate and prepara- tory courses with leg catalogue should be accompanies by references. ~MISS C. E. MASON, LL.M. Box 700 Tarryt Hud N. Y. Institute of Musical Art 3%, 97%, °F Frank Damrosch, Director. Provides comprehensive musical education in all branches. Endowed. a ECR NEW YorE, New York City, 120 Claremont Avenue. New York School of Music and Arts All branches of music. Day and boarding a. ALFE LEECH STERNER, Direc NEw YorK, N. Y. C., Central Park ‘West, cor. Soth St. lie School Music Su Daily Orches' Dorm PA., Philadelphia, Broad St. G Summer Culver Summer Schools Offer a never-to-be-forgotten vacation at a boy's pare dise. 400-acre campus; lake. Naval, Cav: nog A and W craft Schools. Write for whichever ‘catalog interests oa ADJUTANT. (On Lake Maxinkuckee.) Do you wish our assistance in the Summer Camp choice of a camp? If you do not find one suited to your requirements advertised in the magazine write to us. Give location, approximate amount you are willing to spend, age of prospective upil and any information you see fit. COSMOPOLITAN poo AL New York, Times Square Station, Box 155. CLUB. ost. dress INDIANA, Culver. | | Walnut Lane School Piano, Voice, Violin, Pipe ae Organ, with noted men. © 4 | | | | | | | | | = 4 e
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ysical | 'DDER, istrar. ISEND. rs Col- Notice TO SUBSCRIBERS—If your copy of Cosmopolitan does not reach you promptly on the roth of the month, do not assume that it has been lost in transit. Owing to the present congested condition of the railways, delays in the operating of mail-trains are incvitable. Therefore, in the event of the magazine’s non-arrival on the roth, our subscribers are advised to wait a few days before writing us, for by that time it will probably be in their hands. COSMOPOLITAN VOL.LXIV FEBRUARY, 1018 NO. 3 Contents AUTHORS ARTICLES AND FEATURES ILLUSTRATORS My Man—Cover Design . Harrison Fisher . ; Herbert Kaufman - Stop Eating Soldiers! . R 11 Ella Wheeler Wilcox . Good Mothers (Poem) . W. T. Benda ; 12 Rex Beach . ; - On the Trail of the Cowardly | Cougar . 30 The Stage To-day 49 Arnold Bennett . The Diary Habit . W. T. Benda ‘ . 66 Lillie Langtry ; - Myself and Others ; 80 George Ade ‘ . The Fable of the Bewildered Maverick and the Conflict- ing Testimony ‘ . John T. McCutcheon . 88 SHORT STORIES John Galsworthy . Indian Summer of a Forsyte . John Alonzo Williams . 14 Samuel Merwin . _. “Tiger, Tiger!” . Howard Chandler Christy 36 Theodore Dreiser . The Second Choice . . Stockton Mulford . . & George RandolphChester Jolly Bachelors . . Charles E. Chambers . 68 Arthur B. Reeve ’ . The Black Cross ; . Edward L. Chase . . 84 NOVELS Owen Johnson . . Virtuous Wives . George Gibbs Booth Tarkington Penrod Jashber . . Worth Brehm 43° Robert W. Chambers . The Restless Sex . .W.D. Stevens. . 59 Elizabeth Robins Camilla . . Alonzo Kimball . G. L. Wit.s0N, President Josern A. Moore, Vice-President Juttan M. Gerarp, Treasurer W. G. Lanapon, Seoretary, 119 West 40th Street, New York $2. 00 A YEAR CANADIAN PosTaGE, 50 CENTS EXTRA; FOR OTHER COUNTRIES, $1.00 EXTRA 20 CENTS A COPY Published monthly by International Magazine Company. Entered at the Post-Office of New York as second-class mail-matter. We t begin sub ptions with back numbers. Unless otherwise directed, we begin all subscriptions with the current issue. If you wish to renew your subscription to begin any number of months in advance, state the month. The expiration date of current subscriptions is always shown on the wrapper. Cosmopolitan, 119 West 40th Street, New York = i = = and eas 1 d. lity ing. ing; ory, sign ball; nnis. Pa. 4 serva- velve- idress nt on. A e and Vork, acting NT. over- ._ For Pres | rsonal 4 Secre- — iZwo- | High- Select tions nthis | e Eco- ificate parate talog. Dean. to 15. nized anches uming, 1 Arts. der. anand Junior 7 ourses yf Gar- Pool, , Prin. school, n, art, rin. al ad- ges for work. s hlling Distin- RAR. ITY OF ORK hensive 4 Address rARY. venue. Arts upils. or. 5th St. COPYRIGHT, 1918, BY INTERNATIONAL MAGAZINE COMPANY (COSMOPOLITAN MAGAZINE) ALL RIGHTS RES 7 d year. RIGHTS RESERVED UNDER THE TERMS OF THE FOURTH AMERICAN INTERNATIONAL CONVENTION OF ARTISTIC AND LITERARY COPYRIGHT ividual rs. Pub- a week. eee ynferred. Bs, Dir. - para- d Wood- @ ests you §& TANT. ein the § udo not in the § amount and any 3 ATIONAL §& = S CLUB. - ——)
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Schools for Boys PEDDIE The achievements of Peddie graduates in scholarship and athletics at college are signifi- cant of the value of its training. Thorough prepa- ration for leadership in college and business life. Military Training in harmony with the Peddie idea—all the essentials without frills. Physical culture, athletic training, public speaking and music 60-acre campus, lake, Swimming pool, diamond, gridiron and Lower School for boys from 11 to 14 ye ROGER W. SWETLAND LL.0., Headmaster Princeton Preparatory School Gottoge tory school for boys over 14. Rapid progress. Limited number of pupils (60) and freedom from rigid class or- ganization. Excellent equipment and facilities. Special at- tention given to Athletics and moral welfare. 43rd year NE ERSEY, Princeton. J. B. FINE, Headmaster. Frechold Military School Bors’ has his own athletic teams, playgrounds and shooting gal- lery. The military training is especially adapted to interest the young boy. All sports—healthful location. Buildings remodeled and refurnished. Catalog _N.J., Freehold, Box 24. Major Chi ARLES M. DUNCAN. Military Academy 12 miles from Philadelphia. Prepares for college or business. U. 8S. Army Officer detailed. Special School for’Juniors. Catalox. DR H. LORENCE, Pres. CLAYTON A. SNYDER, Sup’t. New JERSEY, Wenonah, Box 403 Bordentown Military Institute tion for college or business. Efficient faculty, small classes, individual attention. Boys taught how to study. Military training. Superv ised athletics. 33rd year. For cat- alog address . D. LANDON, Principal. NEW JERSEY, Bordentown. College Business, ate modern Junior Healthful country lo- Carson Long Institute Preparatory, Normal and Junior courses. Se building for boys under 13 years. cation. Terms: $310 and up; Juniors, $245. Boys taught how to learn and to live. Carson "Saad Institute. PENNSYLVANIA, New Bloomfield, Box A. Nazareth Hall Military Academy _ st. 1743. Situated between Blue and South Mts.— readily ames from New York and Phila. Junior,Senior and Academic Departments. Number limited. Personal at- tention. Five completely — buildings; athletic fields. PENNSYLVANIA, Nazare HE REGISTRAR. George School Co-educational with Separate Dormitory Buildings, College Preparatory, also Manual Training and Sanita- tion courses for boys. 227 acres on Neshaminy Creek. Athletics. Friends’ G. A. WALTON, A. M., PENNSYLVANIA, George School, Box 281. Principal. 4 Senior and Junior de- Harrisburg Academy partments. Modern individual instruction in college preparatory and general courses. New fireproof buildings with large sunny rooms. Cottage dormitory system. Athletic field. Moderate rates. ARTHUR E. Brown, Headmaster. PENNSYLVANIA, Harrisburg. Box C. For boys. Swarthmore Preparatory Schoo Colleze Preparatory. Established and equipped to prepare boys for their chosen careers and to help them decide on theirlife work. Recreation balanced with study. Modern stone buildings. Strong separate Junior Department. Summer Session. Parents and boys invited to call. Pa.,Swarthmore, Box 104. A.H. TOMLINSON, Headmaster. | Page Military Academy A big school for little boys. Seven five semi-fireproof buildings. Seventeen resident teachers. No high school boys. Everything adapted to meet the needs of little folks. Largest » school of its class in America. Write for catalog. Addre CaL., Los Angeles, R. F. D. No. 7. Ropenr A. GIBBS. acre campus, | > The military college of S.C. Founded The Citadel 1842. Government rating, “Distin- guished Military College."" Ideal climate and location. Full courses leading to B.S. and C.E. degrees. Minimum age ior admission, 16. Required educational restrictions. All expenses, $332. For catalog apply to Cot. O. J. BoNb, SOUTH CAROLIN. A, Charleston. Superintendent. New Mexico Military Institute A state-owned school, located in a high, dry climate. For information, address COLONEL JAS. WILLSON, Superintendent. NEW MEXIco, Roswell, Box E. The American St. John s Military Academy Rugby. Every wide-awake American boy will be charmed with the stirring activities of military life and the splendid athletic features. High scholastic record. Rated an Honor School y LU. S. Government. rite for catalog. Address “WISCONSIN, Delafield, Waukesha Co., Box 2-B. Missouri Military Academy With new $75,000 fireproof barracks, is the best equipped military school in the Middle West. College Preparatory, Business and Music. Catalogue. Address THE PRESIDENT. MISSOURI, Mexico. Wentworth Military Academy Designated one of the ten ‘‘ Honor Schools” of U. 8. by War Department. Junior and Senior Divisions R.O. T. C Prepares for college or for life. 43 miles from Kansas C ity. For information or catalog address Cou. S. SELLERS. MissovrI, Lexington. 1817 Washington Ave A man-making school Kemper Military School for boys. High stand- ard of academic work. Modern buildings. 30 acres. All athletics. Manual Training. Designated as Honor School by the War Dept.—the Hi rating given. 73rd year. "JOHNSTON, Supt. Missouri, Boonville, 712- 3rd Street. Incorporated, Kentucky Military Institute Pps with a Winter Home in Florida. 73rd year. Honor School. War Department's highest rating, four years. No other southern school so highly honored. R.O.T.C. No vacan- cies. Make application now for 1918. For catalog address KENTUCKY, Lyndon THE SECRETARY Western oe Academy Linked with the Government through Officers Reserve Training Corps. Designated as ‘Honor School,” highest rating given. Capacity of 200 annually taxed. Address Cou. A. M. JACKSON, A.M., President. ILLINOIS, Alton, Box 22. For Boys. Non-Military, Lake Forest Academy but provides voluntary afternoon drill. Honor Ideals. Aim distinctively educa- tional. Preparation for Yale, Harvard, Princeton, etc. Certificate priv ile; zes, swimming pool. Golf. (1 hour from Chicago.) WAYNE RICHARDS, Headmaster. ILLINOIS, Lake Forest, Box 118 Ohio Military High, beautiful location. Military drill subordinate to academic work. Lower school for youn boys. Cer tificates admit to colleges. — ties LENSHAW, Superintendent. Ouxt0, College Hill, Box 44 (near Cincinnati) Business and col- Miami Military Institute 2u¢ preparatory courses. Also courses leading to degrees. Individual in- struction and parental care. U.S. Army Officer. Smallest | school rated first class by U. 8. Gov't. Summer Military Camp,July and August. Catalog. ORVON GRAFF BROWN, OxI0, Germantown (near Dayton), Box 66. President Preparatory The Massanutten Academy | with Military Training. Healthful location. 100 miles from Wash. Prepares for colleze and business. Music, athletics. New $25, 000 Dining Hall = Dormitory. Limited to 100 ARD J. BENCHOFF, A.M., “Woodstock, Box. 1 Headmaster. PRES MILIT: Greenbrier A PRE {ILITARY An up-to-date military boarding school for 100 boys. Instructors—all college graduates. climate, 2300 ft. altitude. On Main Line, C. R. R. W.Va.,Lewisburg,Box 15. H. B. Moore,A.M.,Prin. Fishburne Military School inigersities nd ( business life. Personal attention. 38th ye: 000 fireproof equipment. Diploma admits to all colleges. Rates $375. Spring encampment near famous caverns at Grot- toes. Catalogue. MAJ. MORGAN H. HUDGINS VIRGINIA, Waynesboro, Box 401 Principal. For aoe A Fitting School Cascadilla Schoo for Cornell. Able faculty of specialists Extensive up-to-date equipment. Athletic field. Recreation building and boat house. Gymnasium; rowing shells. Terms $715 to $815. Send for Catalozue. W. D. FUNKHOUSER, Ph.D., Principal. New York, Ithaca, Box 102. Largest private Staunton Military Academy ine East. Boys from 10 to 20 years old prepared for the Uni- versities, Government Academies or Business. Gymna- sium, swimming pool and athletic park. New $200,000 barracks. Charges $400. For catalogue address VIRGINIA, Staunton, CoL. WM. G. KABLE? Ph D. Prin. ov Mount Pleasant Schools 100 yeas home for boys of all ages. Practical military training with field work. College and business preparation. Physical training and athletic sports. Address CHARLES FREDERICK BRU&iE. New York, Ossining-on-Hudson, P. O. Box 513. (Roller’s School) Augusta Military Academy In famous Val- ley of Virginia. New fireproof buildings now completed— best equipped academic building in the State. Steam heat, electric Tight, gymnasium, extensive grounds. $400. Catalog. HOS. J. ROLLER, CHas. 8. ROLLER, JR., VIRGINIA, Fort Defiance a. = For Boys. 25 miles from New York, Irving School in the beautiful historie “Irving” country. Sist year. >
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= Published monthly by International Magazine Company. Entered at the Post-Office of New York as d-el. We cannot begin eg with age numbers. Unless otherwise directed, we begin all subscriptions with the current issue. 7 yo wish to renew your subscription to begin any number of months in advance, state the month. he expiration date of current subscriptions is always shown on the wrapper. Cosmopolitan, 119 West 40th Street, New York : 4 VOL LXIV M MARCH, 1018 Contents Cover Design—Coquette Harrison Fisher Democracy Fights On Herbert Kaufman II \ Devils Ella Wheeler Wilcox Decoration by W. T. Benda 12 Bittersweet Fannie Hurst ( Illustrated by T. D. Skidmore. 14 {| Penrod Jashber Booth Tarkington ( Illustrated by Worth Brehm 22 (| When Alice Told Her Soul Jack London Illustrated by G. Patrick Nelson . 28 Indian Summer of a Forsyte John Galsworthy ( Illustrated by John : Alonzo Williams . 34 “| The Future of the Earth Maurice Maeterlinck . Decoration by W.T. Benda . 41 \ Virtuous Wives Owen Johnson Illustrated by George Gibbs 2 The Stage To-day Photographs in Artgravure 49 Aladdin on Simpson Street Samuel Merwin Mlustrated. by Howard Chandler Christy . 53 What Do You Think? Adéle S. Burleson Photographic Illustrations ' ; by Lejaren A. Hiller . 60 Camilla Elizabeth Robins Illustrated by Alonzo Kimball . 64 The Kicking Mule George Randolph Chester Illustrated by Charles E. Chambers . 72 Myself and Others Lillie Langtry Illustrated by Photographs . 76 The Restless Sex. Robert W. Chambers Illustrated by W. D. Stevens . 80 The Fable of the Uplift George Ade Illustrated by John T. McCutcheon . 88 In this Number—Four Serials—Six Stories—Five Special Features. COPYRIGHT, 1918, BY INTERNATIONAL MAGAZINE COMPANY (COSMOPOLITAN MAGAZINE) G. L. Witts0n, President Josrru A. Moons, Vice-President M. Gerann, Treasurer W. G. Lasapos, Secretary, 119 West 4th Street, New Youk $2.00 A YEAR CANADIAN PORTAGE, 5) CENTS EXTRA; FOR OTHER CouNTRIES, $1.00 exTRa as 20 CENTS A COPY | | | | | | |
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Schools for Boys INFANTRY CAVALRY NEW YORK MILITARY ACADEMY Cornwall-on-Hudson, N. Y. CADET BAND (‘Special Rates to good Musicians) For catalogue write to the Commandant The Largest Military Preparatory School in the East MODERATE EXPENSES FIREPROOF BUILDINGS . For Boys. 25 miles from New York, Irving Schoo in the beautiful historic “Irving” country. Sist year. 26 years under present Head Master. New site and buildings 1904. Prepures for all colleges and technical schools. Individual ierestton. Athletic field. Swimming pool. Gymnasium J. M. FURMAN, YORK,Tarrytown-on- Hudson,Box 915. H’dmaster. For over 100 years Mount Pleasant Schools F% 27 er sears home for boys of all ages. Practical military training with field work. College and business preparation. Physical training and athletic sports. Address “HARLES FRED New York, Ossining-on-Hudson, P. Box Sia, Fitting School Cascadilla Schoo for Cornell. Able faculty of specialists. Extensive up-to-date equipment. Athletic field. Recreation building ry _boat house. Gymnasium; rowing shells. Terms $715 5. Send for Catalogue. Fu SER, Ph.D., Principal. Box 102. For Boys. New York, Ithaca, = Senior and Junior de- Harrisburg Academy partments. Modern individual instruction in college preparatory and general courses. New fireproof buildings with large sunny rooms. Cottage dormitory field. Moderate rates. RE BROWN, Headmaster. ART PENNSYLVANIA, Herrtabura, Box C 79th year. College Carson Long Institute Normal and Junior courses. Separate modern Junior building for boys under 13 years. Healthful country lo- cation Terms: $345 and up; Juniors, $280. Boys taught how to learn and to live. Carson Long Institute. PENNSYLVANIA, New Bloomfield, Box A. George School Co-educational with Separate Dormitory Buildings, Colleze Pre aye also Manual Training and Sanita- tion courses for boys. 227 acres on Neshaminy Creek. Athletics. Friends’ management. G. A. WALTON, A. PENNSYLVANIA, George School, Box 281 Principal. Swarthmore Preparatory School Preparatory Established and equipped to prepare boys for their chosen careers and to help them decide on their life work. Recreation balanced with study Modern stone buildings. Strong separate Junior De tgp nt. Summer Session. Parents and boys invited to ¢ Pa.,Swarthmore, Box 104 A.H. TOMLINSON, Headmaster. “A PRESBYTERIAL SCHOOL MILITARY Greenbrier An up-to-date military boarding school for 100 boys Instructors—all college graduates Bracing mountain climate, 2300 ft. altitude. On Main Line, C. ., a. buildings,athletic fie’ id. $300.Catalog address Va.. Lewisb . Box 15. Co... H. B. Moore, A.M., Prin Business and col- Miami Military lege preparatory courses. Also courses leading to derrees. Individual in- struction and parental care. U.s. Army Officer. Smallest school rated first class by U.S. Gov't. Summer Military Camp, July and | Catalog. ORVON GRAFF Brown, if ugust Onto, Germantown (near Dayton), Box ¢ Ohio Military Institute High, beautiful location. Military drill to academic work. Lower school for younger boys tincates admit to colleges. Athletics A. M. HENSHAW, Superintendent. Box 44 (near Cincinna subordinate Cer- On10, College Hill, Stude is - Tennessee Military Institute >! time. Modern equipment. Individual instruction. Pre- pares for Universities, Government Academies or Business summer Camp. Experienced faculty. Reasonable charges. Write for particulars. T. M.{. TENNESSEE, Sweetwater, Box 80. Columbia Military Acad emy Offers thorough military training under highest educa- tional standards. Vigorous out-door life in ideal climate Half million dollar plant and equipment Enter any time Cot. O. C. HULVEY, President. TENNESSEE, Columbia, Box 203 college of 8. C The Citadel | 42. Government rating. Military College.” Ideal climate and location Full courses leading to B. 8. and C_E. degrees. Minimum age for ay ot 16. Required educational restrictions All expenses, $332. For cataloz apply to Cot. O. J. Bonp, _ SovuTa Caro Cc Charleston Superintendent. PED D I E Hightstown, N. J. The achievements of Peddie graduates in scholarship and athletics at college are signifi- cant of the value of its training. Thorough prepa- ration for leadership in college and business life. Military Training in harmony with the Peddie idea—all the essentials without frills. Physical culture, athletic training, public speaking and music §0-acre camous. lake, Swimming pool, Lower School ‘ounded **Distin- Bo. 3-h, diamond, gridiron ey jum. for boys from 11 to 1 ROGER w. SWETLAND LL.D., Headmaster | door life of a country school. bor Isoys. All ‘advantages Worcester Academy of a large school. Master teachers. Comprehensive equipment; 11 buildings, 22 acres. ‘‘Megaron,” a noble recreation hall. Splendid athletic field. New and perfectly appointed gymnasium and pool. 85th year. Catalog. D. W. ABERCROMBIE,LL.D., MASSACHUSETTS, Worcester, 96 Providence St. Prin. big school for Page Military Academy }, little boys. Seven acre campus, five semi- buildings. resident teachers. No high school boys. Everythin adapted to meet the needs of little folks. Largest oo hool of its class in America. Write Addre JAL., Los Angeles, R. F. D 7 Ropert A. GIBBs New Mexico Military Institute A state-owned school, located in a high, dry climate For address OLONEL JAS. WILLSON, Superintendent. NEW MExiIco, Roswell, Box E. St. John’s Military Academy fhe” wide-awake American boy will be charmed with the stirring activities of military life and the splendid athletic features. High scholastic record. Rated an Honor School by U. S. Govefnment. Write for catalog. WISCONSIN, Delafield, Waukesha Co., Box For Boys. 77th year opened Williston Seminary Sept. $100,000 residence hall. Efficient masters. Small units. Boys’ personality directed. ‘Scientific and preparatory departments. 6 buildings. Athletic fields. Moderate rates. Lower school in separate building. Booklet. JoseEpH H. SAWYFR, MASSACHUSETTS, Easthampton. Prine ipal. r Boys. Founde Allen Military School ,,,,Kounded Boston. A country school with military training. College preparatory and general courses. Gymnasium and swim- ming pool. Directed play. Upper and lower school. Catalog. THOMAS CHALMERS, A.B., D.D., Director. MASSACHUSETTS, West Newton. Box ¢ For Boys. Extensive Powder Point Schoo grounds. 4 modern buildings. Concrete residence and gymnasium. Athletic fields. Cinder track. College or business preparation. Upper and lower schools. Address RALPH K. BEARCE, A.M., Headmaster. MASSACHUSETTS, Duxbury, 71 King Cesar Road. Chauncy Hall School Established 1828. Prepares boys exclusively for Massachusetts Institute of Technology and other scien- IN T. MASSACHUSETTS, Boston, 349 Boy Iston a Principal. (Copley Sq.) Thorough Stamford Military Academy and military training, fostering intellectual, physical and moral needs of developing boys ersonal instruction. Small classes. Manly sports encouraged. Located on high point, bordering Long Island Sound. For catalog address Conn., Stamford. WALTER D. GERKEN, A. M., Prin. A Military school for Boys. College Pre- Suffield paratory and Business Courses. 314 hours from New York City. Modern buildings. Athletics. De- — for young boys, house mother. $700 to $800. ooklet. TRUESDELL, A.M., Principal. C. L. I. Founded 1533. G. CONN., 11 Main St., Rosenbaum School Prepares boys for college. No prescribed course. Out- For catalog, address SAMUEL B. a M, Principal. CONNECTICUT, Milford, Box A Bordentown Military Institute tion for college or business Efficient faculty, small classes, individual attention. Boys taught how to study. Superv ised athletics. 33rd year. For COL. T. D. LANDON, Principal. Bordentown. Military catalog addres NEW SERSEY. Princeton Preparatory Schoo tory school for boys over 14. Rapid progress. College prepara- Limited | number of pupils (60) and freedom from rigid class or- | ganization Excellent equipment and facilities. Special at- yen to Athletics and moral welfare. 43rd year. Princeton. J. B. FINE, Headmaster. tention giv NEW JERSEY, Wenonah Military Academy 12 miles from Philadelphia. Prepares for college or business J. S$. Army Officer detailed. Special School for Juniors. Catalog Dr. C. H. LORENCE, Pres. CLAYTON A. SNYDER, Sup't. New Jersey, Wenonah, Box 403. Freehold Military School © The > Young Boys’ has his own athletic teams, play rounds oe shooting gal- lery. The military training is especially adapted to interest the young boy. All sports— ey location. Buildings remodeled and refurnished. Catalog. N.J., Freehold, Box 34. Major CHARLES M. DUNCAN. with a Winter Home in Florida. 73rd year. Honor School. War Department's highest rating, four years. No other southern school so highly honored. R.O. T.C. No vacan- cies. Make application now for 1918. For catalog address KENTUCKY, Lyndon THE SECRETARY Wentworth Military Academy Designated one of the ten ‘“‘ Honor Schools" of U. 8. by War Department. Junior and Senior Divisions R. O. T.C. Prepares for college or for life. 43 miles from Kansas City. For information or catalog address CoOL. 5. SELLERS Missouri, Lexington, 1817 Washington Ave til A man-making school KemperMilitarySchoo for boys. High stand- ard of academic work. Modern buildings. 30 acres. All athletics. Manual Training. Designated as Honor School by the War Dept.—the legs 2 rating giv en. 73rd year. HNSTON, Supt. MIssoURI, Boonville, 7 3rd Street. Missouri Military Academy With new $75,000 fireproof barracks, is the best equipped military school in the Middle West. College Preparatory, Business and Music. Catalogue. Address THE PRESIDENT. Mexico. For Boys. Lake Forest Academy regime, but maintains afternoon drill during present conditions. Honor Ideals Aim distinctively educational. Preparation for Yale, Har- vard, Princeton, etc. Certificate privileges, swimming pool Golf. (1 hour from Chicago.) JOHN WAYNE RICHARDS, ILLNoIs, Lake Ferest, Box 118. Headmaster. Western Military Academy Linked with the Government through Officers Reserve Training Designated as Honor School,” highest rating given. Capes ity of me annually taxed. Address « A. M. CKSON, A.M., President. Box 22. ILLINOIS, Alton, Largest pri- vate acad- 20 years old ities, Government Acade:ries or Business Gymnasium, swimming pool and athletic park. New $200,000 barracks. Charges $450. For catalogue address VIRGINIA, Staunton. Cot. WM. G. KABLE, Ph. D., Prin Fishburne Military Schoo Pr é Prepares for universities and business life. Personal attention. 38th year. New $60,000 fireproof equipment. Diploma admits to all colleges. Rate s 375. Spring encampment near famous caverns at Grot- toes. Catalogue. Ms MORGAN H. HUDGINS. VIRGINIA, Waynesboro, Box 401. Principal The Massanutten Academy with Military Training. Healthful location. 100 miles from Wash. Prepares for college and business. Music, athletics New $2: 3,000 Dining Hall and Dormitory. Limited to 100 boys. 50. HOWARD J. BENCHOFF, A.M. Vv IRGINIA, Woodstock, Box Headmaster Randolph-Macon Academy For Boys, ne Randolph-Macon System. In the Valley of Virginia. Equip- ment cost $100,000. Prepares for College or Scientific Schools. Military training. Gymnasium and Athletics 26th session opened September 18th. $300. Address Va.,Front Royal, Box 404. Cuas. L. MELTON,A.M.,Prin. oller’s School) Augusta Military Academy {RjlersSchool ley of Virginia. New fireproof buildings now completed— best equipped academic building in the State. Steam heat, electric light, gymnasium, extensive grounds. $400 Catalog 3. J. ROLLER, CHAS. S. ROLLER, JR., __ VIRGINIA, Fort Defiance. Principals Schools ; for Boys and Girls n the foothills of the Whit« Tilton Seminary } Mountains. For Young Men and Women. Preparation for college or business. Courses for High School —_— es. Home economics. 7 build- ings. Athletics wepersse department for young boys Moderate cos }EORGE PLimpTON, Principal. Staunton Military Academy emy in the East. Boys from 10 to: pst. ‘Ew HAMPSHIRE, Tilton 32 School Street River Institute high-grade, co-educational, preparatory school Low rate, $300 per year for board, room and tuiiion, possi- ble througt large endowment. Music, Oratory, Domestic Science. New Dormitory and Gymnasium. Ou10, Austinburg, Box 2. EARLE W. HAMLIN, Prin. Normal Training Schools The Technical Normal School 4°¢red}te! training school in special branches only. One and two year courses in Public School Music. Drawing, Domestic Science, Domestic Art, Physical Education. Graduates as- sisted to positions. Mid-year term begins Jan. 8. Address ILLINOIS, Chicago, 3207 Michigan Blvd. REGISTRAK 4 Do you wish our assist- Professional Schools ance in the choice of a School? If you do not find one suited to your requirements advertised in the magazine write to us. Give location, approximate amount you are willing to spend, and age of prospective one. COSMOPOLITAN EDUCATIONAL CLUB New ¥ ORK, Times Square Station, Box 155. Miscellaneous Educate Your Child In Your Own Home Under the direction of CALVERT SCHOOL, Inc. (Established 1897) Aunique ay stem by means of which children from kindergarten to 12 years of ace may be educated at home by the best modern methods and under the guidance and supervision of aschool with a national reputation fortraining young children. For in- formation write, stating age of chiid. The Calvert School, 4 Chase St., Baltimore. Md. Vv. M. HILLYER, A.B. (Harvard), Headmaster | | |
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Whit« Men yurses puild- boys val. rhool possi- nest ic VOL.LXIV TITLES Each Stitch a Prayer (Cover) Sic Transit cm Time and I The Unsent Letter Camilla A Boob Spelled Backward The Complete Fusser Penrod Jashber The Quitclaim Deed The Stage To-day Virtuous Wives Speaking of Frock Coats Doing Their Bit Myself and Others The Restless Sex The Psychic Scar The Fable of the Ripe Persimmon APRIL, 1018 Contents CONTRIBUTORS Harrison Fisher Herbert Kaufman Ella Wheeler Wilcox Gouverneur Morris Elizabeth Robins Fannie Hurst Arnold Bennett Booth Tarkington Arthur Somers Roche COSMOPOLITAN ILLUSTRATORS W. T. Benda Gerald Leake Alonzo Kimball T. D. Skidmore W. Benda Worth Brehm George Gibbs Photographs in Artgravure Owen Johnson Samuel Merwin George Gibbs Tloward Chandler Christy George Randolph Chester Charles E. Chambers Lillie Langtry Photographic Illustrations Robert W. Chambers Arthur B. Reeve George Ade COPYRIGHT, 1918, BY INTERNATIONAL MAGAZINE COMPANY (CORMOVOLITAN MAGAZINE) W. D. Stevens Edward L. Chase John T. McCutcheon In this Number Four Serials—Six Stories—Six Special Features ALL RIGHTS RESERVED UNDER THE TR. MS OF THE FOURTH AMERICAN INTERNATIONAL CONVENTION OF AKTISTIC AND LITERARY COPYRIGHT NO. 5 G. L. President $2.00 A YEAR with the current issue. If advance, state the month. Cosmopolitan, Joxern A. Moone, Vice-President M, Treasurer Canapian PORTAGE, 50 CENTS EXTRA; FOR OTHER COUNTRIES, $1.00 ExTRs Pablished monthly by International Magazine Company We cannot begin subscriptions with back numbers. W. G. Lawanon, Secretary, 119 West 40th Street, New York 20 CENTS A COPY Entered at the Post-Offiee of New York as second-class maij-matter. Unless otherwise directed, we begin all subscriptions 2u wish to renew your subscription to begin any number of months in he expiration date of current subscriptions is always shown on the wrapper. 119 West 40th Street, New York | ntee thin wl o h IBBs i mate 3 | rical vers hletic chool | Har 4 pool ARDS j V dress nt. I 6 | pared Iness V 21 | ares | Prin f for 28 Rates Z Grot NS cipal | 3 fron | | aster | 3° | A f the | quip | etics V 43 Prin | | ) $400 — d 53 | 61 _ (| | | itwo nestic @ esas- | avon, 4 } to 12 | t home is anc | vision } ‘tation For in- Md. | master |
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Summer Schools and Vacation Camps Senior KNOWN “The Camp the wonderful saddle horses.”’ Campers ride every day without extra charge. Tela-Wauket is : 200-acre wonderland of wooded hills and green fields, in the heart of the Green Mountains, with sleeping bungalows, rustic assembly bungalow, hot and cold shower baths, ten- nis courts, fields for games of all kinds, and a private pond for swimming and water sports. The new book- let is filled with interesting pictures and true stories Camps for Girls South Fairlee, Vt., Fairlee, Vt., and Pike, N. H. 3 distinct camps—ages, 7-13, 13- 17, 17-25. Fun, Frolic, Friend- ships FIRST AID AND RED CROSS WAR SERVICE TRAINING Swimming, canoeing, horseback rid- ing, tennis, basketball, baseball. New Athletic Field idicrafts. Dramat- ic. Music. Character development, eultivation of personality and com- spirit. Vigilance for health and . 13 years of camp life. 1200 girls e.. been in camp and not a single serious accident. Mr. and Mrs, Gulick’s personal supervision. Splen- did equipment. Regular season July and August. 64-page illustrated booklet. All councilor positions filled, 283 Addington Road, Brookline, Mass. Culver Summer Schools Offer a never-to-be-forgotten vacation at a boys’ para- dise. 400-acre campus; lake. Naval, Cavalry and Wood- craft Schools. Write for whichever catalog interests you most Address ADJUTANT. Culver. (On Lake Maxinkuckee.) The Castle Summer School of Preparation for Patriotic June 12th to August 7th. Address Service, 22 courses for girls and women, Miss C. E. Mason, LL.M. Tarrytown-on-Hudson, NEW YORK, Box 700. and Junior Camps for Girls (8 to 20), Roxbury, Vt. MR. and MRS. C. A. ROYS, 10 Bowdoin Street, Cambridge, Massachusetts of camp life. Read how Tela-Wauket campers ex- plored a mountain, camped on its wooded side, made trails to the top, and gave the “old fellow’ a name. The Honor System, so loyally maintained by campers, councilors and directors, makes a vacation at Tela- Wauket a joy to campers and a source of gratification to parents. Ask for our booklet. No inexperienced councilors employed. WYNONA CAMP FOR GIRLS EVELOPS body and mind Situated in heart of beau- tiful pine grove. Overlooks scenic mountainlake. Health- ful outdoor life. Numerous enjoyable camp activities horseback riding, canoeing, swimming, tennis, golf. Ideal indoor living with all the com- forts of home—electric light, running water, shower baths, rustic sleeping bungalows References required. For de- scriptive booklet write THE DIRECTOR 75 Summer St., Fitchburg, Mass. K 1 C For Boys, 6 to 18. Catskill Mts. Model yle Wamp Bungalows—no damp tents. All land and water sports. Milit. drill. Rifle range. Scout masters. An expenditure of $25,000 has turned this ideal place into a paradise for boys. Moderate terms. Estab. 1890. PauL KYLE, Kyle School for Boys. N.Y.,Irvington-on-Hudson (22 milesfrom N.Y.), Box! 504, For girls among the pines on an exquisite «adirondack lake. 23 miles north of Saratoga. Very historical region. Every provision for safety, good food, fun. Horseback riding and a series of historical excursions. Booklet. . AND Mrs. R. R. MILLER. NEw York, New York City, 508 West 114th Street. Camp Paradiso JUNIOR PLATTSBURG Summer Vacation Military Training Camp JULY and AUGUST Five Hundred Acre Campus on Lake Champlain) ARTILLERY INFANTRY CAVALRY NAVAL Fundamental military training and mod- ern warfare by United States Army and Naval officers aided by British, French and Italian officers who have seen service in the present war. Special courses in: Automobile assembling, maintenance, start- ing and ignition; Electrical appar atus, in general repairing and assembling; Ground work of aeroplanes (No flying); War farming and gardening; Food conservation; Sanita- tion; Hydropiane; Motor boats; Telegraph and wireless; Refrige rating; Road-building; Drainage, Civil engineering. For boys, 14 to 21 years For terms of admission apply Commandant, Junior Plattsburg 8 West 40th Street, New York City Camp Pok-o'-Moonshine Adirondacks. Unquestionably one of the finest camps in the country. Aces 9-17. h sea s: 20, 000 equip- ment. Rates absolutely ine Ethan Allen Training Cam Oficial Juntos Training Camp Authorized by the War Depariment Brig. William Verbeck, Supt., Manlius, N.Y. PPEALING to patriotism and furthering the cause of preparedness. Beautifully located on North Hero Island in the picturesque upper reaches of Lake Champlain, about twenty miles from Plattsburg. It combines a most comple te military, physical and intellectual training for young Americans with exce -ptional facilities for a delightiul summer vacation. The boys are carefully housed and well fed and enjoy the bene- fits of an outdoor life without any inconvenience or discomfort. Regular U nited States Army tiles and equipment used. Catalogue and further information furnished upon request. Ethan Allen Training Camp Association Executive and Recruiting Office Saugerties, N. Y. CAMP WINNESHEWAUKA LUNENBUR °, VT. FOR GIRLS In White Mountain region. Mile of lake shore. Best of everything for the best girls. Free horseback riding, water and field sports, handicrafts, music and dancing under expert instructors. eget and war canoes. Cozy screened bungalows, spring water, modern plumbing. Satisfied parents an happy girls tell the story. ooklet. Karl O, Balch, Resident Mgr., Dept. F, Lunenburg, Vt. He said he'd do it and he did The head of a prominent boy's school wrote us recently saying that C osmopclitan. brought him so many enrollments during 1917 that he ' for every phase of camp life. would increase his space in Cosmopolitan dur- ing 1918. He has just sent us an order for twice as much space as he used last year. Cosmopolitan’s service is rendered to readers of the magazine and to schools and summer camps impartially. If you want tosend your boy or girl to a school or camp this summer, write us and we will help you select the right one. There is no charge for this service. Cosmopolitan’s Educational Bureau 119 West 40th Street ew York Sargent Camps For Girls. Illustrated R A. SARGENT, President. MASSACHUSETTS, Secretary. Camp Idlewild For Boys. _Lake Winnepesaukee, N. 27th year. Best equipped camp for boys in America. Illustrated booklet. Address JOHN M. Dick, B.D. MASSACHUSETTS, Boston, Room 345, Exchange Bldg. ° Conway, N. H., means the hap- Pine Knoll Camp piest summer in a girl's life. Heart of White Mountains. Most beautiful spot in New England. On oe turesque, secluded Iona Lake. Full camp programme. Wonderful Illustrated booklet. FRANCES H. WHITE. MASSACHUSETTS, Lynn, 39° Breed Street. For Boys. Lake Asquam, Hol- Camp Wachusett derness, N.H. Sixteenth sea- son. 7 Boating, canoeing, swimming, fishing, 7 buildings. water and land sports. Music, games and a good time No tents. Fisher huts, every night. Tutoring if s—. LORIN WEBSTER, L.H.D. Book et. Holderness School. NEW HAMPSHIRE, Combination of lake, mountains FahagoeWohalo and ocean. Complete equipment Horseback riding. Crafts. Official Red Cross Couise and Diploma. Each girl in care of Dr. and Mrs. Luther Halsey Gulick, Founders ae the Camp Fire Girls. Booklet. Mks. CHARLOTTE V. GULICK, Hotel Bellevue, Boston, to April 15. MAINE, Sebago Lake, South Casco. For Girls. Camp Teconnet China Lake, assembly house,tents. Swimming,canoeing,motor-boating. Girls’ Scouts training and games. Crafts and dramatic projects. Personally directed by MR. CHARLES TOWNE (Assistant Superintendent of Schools) and Mrs. “TOWNE. RHODE ISLAND, Providence, 376 Benefit Street. For Girls. 8 miles from Wells River, Camp Farwell Vt. Electric lighted bungalows. Sanitary conditions perfect. Open plumbing. Inciners ator. Courses in Commercial French, Spanish, Red Cross Work, Motor Driving, Domestic Arts, c itizenship. Intensive work with recreation and outdoor life. Until June Ist address, N.Y., Tarrytown, MISS FARWELL, care of ‘*The Castle.” For Girls. Great Back Bay, Woods Island Camp Lake Champlain,Vt. Our own Island and Farm. Central bungalow. Separate sleeping cottages, each accommodating 4 girls, tents if preferred. Motor boats. Sandy beaches. Outdoor sports. Domestic Sci- ence. Handicraft. First aid,ete. Send for illustrated booklet. VERMONT, St. Albans, PAUL W. THAYER, Supervisor. On our own island, Me. Dining hall, CAMP RONCEVERTE ON THE GREENBRIER For Boys Ronceverte, W. Va. In the heart of the Alleghanies—elevation 1600 feet—12 miles from White Sulphur. Complete new equipment. Thirty-acre camp and athletic fields. All field and water sports. Military training. Trap-shooting, Boxing. Fine fishing. Competent supervision. Rates full term, 8 weeks, June 20th to August 15th, $155; Half term, $85. Directors: Lieut. Gibbes Lykes, U. S. A., France, ajor H. G. cker, Assistant Commandant, Staunton Military Academy, Staunton, Va. Write Major H. G. Acker for booklet. Until June Ist, Staunton, Va. After June Ist, Ronceverte, W. Va. SS \ f | | | |) | 1 | i} a | |
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woe COSMOPOLITAN VOL.LXIV MAY, 1018 NO, © Contents TITLES CONTRIBUTORS ILLUSTRATORS Her Heart's in the Service (Cover) Harrison Fisher The Bridge to the Rhine Herbert Kaufman 15 The Lament of Helen Harry Kemp W.T. Benda 16 The Moonlit Way Robert W. Chambers W. D. Stevens 18 This Bud of Love Samuel Merwin = Howard Chandler Christy 26 The Minute-women of New York Sophie Irene Loeb Photographic Illustrations 34 Out of the Sky Alden Brooks Gerald Leake 36 Penrod Jashber Booth Tarkington Worth Brehm 43 The Stage To-day | Photographs in Artgravure 49 Miss Pilgrim’s Progress Perceval Gibbon Edward L. Chase 53 The Little Days Ella Wheeler Wilcox Photographic Illustrations 60 Camilla Elizabeth Robins Alonzo Kimball 66 A Clammy Town George Randolph Chester Charles E. Chambers 74 Running Away from Life Arnold Bennett W.T. Benda 78 The Star-Shell Arthur B. Reeve Edward L. Chase 80 Virtuous Wives Owen Johnson George Gibbs 85 The Fable of the Hard-up Yeoman George Ade John T. McCutcheon 92 In this Number—Four Serials—Five Stories—Seven Special Features Pablished monthly by International Magazine Company Entered at the Post-Office of New York as second-class mail-matter. We t begin ; bscriptions with back numbers. Unless otherwise directed, we begin all subscriptions with the current issue. If P any wish to renew your subscription to kezin any number of months in advance, state the month. he expiration date of current culbearigthone 1s always shown on the wrapper. Cosmopolitan, 119 West 40th Street, New York — SSS | | | ‘ | | | | > | | | | a | | |
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Educational Guide Summer Schools and Vacation Camps horses."" Campers ride every day without extra charge. Tela-Wauket is a 200-acre wonderland of wooded hills and green fields, in the heart of the Green Mountains, with sleeping bungalows, rustic assembly bungalow, hot and cold shower baths, ten- nis courts, fields for games of all kinds, and a private ond for swimming and water sports. The new book- et is filled with interesting pictures and true stories Senior and Junior Camps for Girls (8 to 20), Roxbury, Vt. KNOWN as “The Camp with the wonderful saddle of camp life. trails to the top, and gave the The Honor System, councilors and directors, makes Wauket a joy to campers and a source of gratification to parents. MR. and MRS. C. A. ROYS, 10 Bowdoin Street, Cambridge, Massachusetts Read how Tela-Wauket campers ex- plored a mountain, camped on its wooded i, ie, made “old fello a name. so loyally maintained by cam ers, a vacation at Tela- Ask for our booklet. No inexperienced councilors employed. Ethan Allen Training Camp William Verbeck, Manlius, N.Y. PPEALING to patriotism and fur- thering the cause of preparedness. Beautifully located on North Hero Is- land in the picturesque upper reaches of Lake Champlain, about twenty miles from Plattsburg. It combines a most complete military, physical and intellectual training for young Ameri- cans with exceptional facilities for a de- lightful summer vacation. The boys enjoy the benefits of an outdoor life without any inconvenience or discom- fort. Regular United States Army rifles and equipment used. Catalogue upon request. Brig.-Gen Supt. Ethan Allen Training Camp Association Executive and Recruiting Office Saugerties, N. Y. CAMP RONCEVERTE ON THE GREENBRIER For Boys Ronceverte, W. Va. In the heart of the Alleghanies—elevation 1600 feet—12 miles from White Sulphur. Complete new equipment. Thirty-acre camp and athletic fields. All field and water sports. Military training. Trap-shooting, Boxing. Fine fishing. Competent supervision. bres full term, 8 weeks, June 20th to August 15th, $155; Half term, $85. Directors: Lieut. Gibbes Lykes, U. S. A., France, ajor H. G. cker, Assistant Commandant, Staunton Military Academy, Staunton, Va. Write Major H. G. Acker for booklet. Until June Ist, Staunton, Va. After June Ist, Ronceverte, W. Va’ CAMP WINNESHEWAUKA LUNENBURG, VT. FOR GIRLS In White Mountain region. Mile of 1: uke shore. Best of everything for the best girls. Free horseback riding, water and field sports, handicrafts, music and dancing under expert instruc tors. Sponson and war canoes. Cozy screened bungalows, spring water, modern plumbing. Satisfied parents and happy girls tell the story. Booklet Karl O. Balch, Resident Mer. Dept, F, Lunenburg, Vt. DAN BEARD WOODCRAFT Camp and School \ In personal charge of the famous } scout and woodsman. Boys get |} every advantage of outdoor life j under inspiration of school based on highest American deals. Ona beautiful Pennsylvania mountain lake. Woodcraft and Scout craft activities, nature study and school work. Special attention to physical development. Camp Dentist and Doctor. DAN BEARD 98 Bowne Avenue, Flushing, L. |. Culver Summer Schools Offer a never-to-be-forgotten vacation at a boys’ para- dise. 400-acie campus; lake. Naval, Cavalry and Wood- craft Se —_. — rite for whichever catalog interests you most. ADJUTANT. INDIANA, Galver. (On Lake Maxinkuckee.) Camp Morrison For Boys. Ideal location in Smoky Mountains, on Tel- lico River, East Tennessee. Invigorating, health-giving air. Tutoring—military instruction—sports. For beautiful booklet, address CAMP DIREC1OR. TENNESSEE, Sweetwater. Swarthmore Prep. School affording every opportunity for a delightful summer. School studies. Camp activities. Canoeing, swimming, trips to Valley Forge and other places of Historical interest. Competent men incharge. Entries may be made for 6, 10 or 14 weeks. Information upon request. PENNSYLVANIA,S Swarthmore. Box 204. S.C.HOWELL,Sec. r Girls. On beautiful Naomi Pine Tree Camp P Lake 2000 feet above sea in pine-laden air of Pocono Mountains. 4 hrs. from New York and Philadelphia. Experienced councilors. Tennis, basket- ball, canoeing, * hikes,’’ horseback riding. Handicrafts, gar- dening. Red Cross work. Tutoring. 7th season. PENN.,Phila.,305 W.School Lane. MIss BLANCHE D.PRICE. Camp Pok-o'-Moonshine Adirondacks. U nausstionenty one of the finest camps in the country. Ages 9-17. 13th season. $20,000 equip- ment. Rates absolutely Address ROBINSON. NEw YorK, Peekskill, Peekskill Academy. For Boys, 6 to 18. Catskill Mts. Model Kyle Camp Bungalows—no damp tents. All land and water sports. Milit. drill. Rifle range. Scout masters. An expenditure of $25,000 has turned this ideal place into a paradise for pee, Moderate terms. Estab. 1890. AUL KYLE, Kyle School for Boys. Irvington-on- Hudson (23 miles from N.Y.),Box504 A Summes Camp for Wanakena on Lake George, Pilot Knob, where “everyone happily occupied and safe’’ is the ideai’ All field and water sports, aquaplaning, mountain climb- Summer School ing, handic Expert trained nurse. Book- let. Addres R. B. BONTECOU. _N. he Address after 15—Pilot Knob, N.Y H 0 FOR GIRLS SU and WOMEN Tr ining for Patriotic Service On the Beautiful Hudson. June 12-Aug. 7 The Government needs trained women. Our courses qualify for practical work in most important branches open to women. Secretarial and Banking. Citizen- ship and wide range of Social Service. Automobile and motor boat operation and re pair. Domestic et nce. Red Cross with Hospital Experience, etc. very opportunit) vacation Swimming, Horseback Riding, Military Drill. Castle” SEBAGO -WOHELO On Sebago Lake, South Casco, Maine (The Luther Gulick prey THREE camps—Girls (1-18), 18” acres of pine wooc sand be oe *s (more than a mile of shore front), ands, canoes, motor boats, sail- boats and big houseboat. Trips to ocean. Surf bathing. Horseback riding, crafts, official Red Cross Course and Diploma, pageants and camp plays. Each girl in the personal care of Dr. and Mrs. Luther Halsey Gulick, Founders of the Camp Fire Girls. Send for booklet. MRS. CHARLOTTE V. GULICK, Hotel Be‘levue, Boston, to April J5th Fo r Girls. Great Back Bay, Woods Island Camp Lake Champlain,Vt. Our own Island and Farm. Central bungalow. Separatesleeping cottages, each accommodating 4 girls, tents if preferred. Motor boats. Sandy beaches. Outdoor sports. Domestic Sci- ence. Handicraft. First aid,etc. Send for illustrated booklet. __ VERMONT, St. Albans. PAUL W. THAYER, Supervisor. Camp Idlewild For Boys. Lake Winnepesaukee, N. H. Best equipped camp for boys in America. booklet. Address JOHN M. Dick, B. D. MASSACHUSETTS. Boston, Room 345, Exchange Bldg. 7-12). Boys (7-12). 27th year. Illustrated Sargent Camps For Girls. MASSACHUSETTS, Secretary. For Boys. Lake Asquam, Hol- Camp Wachusett derness, N. H. Sixteenth sea- son. 7 buildings. Boating, canoeing, swimming, fishing, water and land sports. Music, games and a good time every night. Tutoring if No tents. Fisher huts. Booklet. LORIN WEBSTER, L.H.D. NEW HAMPSHIRE, Piymouth, Holderness School. Pine Knoll Camp piest summer in a girl's life. Heart of White Mountains. Most beautiful spot in New England. On picturesque, secluded Iona Lake. Full camp programme. Wonderful equipment. Illustrated booklet. 3. FRANCES H. WHITE. MASSACHUSETTS, Lynn, 39 Breed Street. Summer Tutoring School For Girls. Preparation for college examinations. French conversation. Horseback riding, swimming, tennis, golf. Booklet on ation to Marky LOvIse MARot, Principal. CONNECTICUT, Miss Howe & Marot’s Sch. Rosenbaum School Summer Review for Fall College Entrance Examina- tions begins July 22, 1918. Boys _may begin work any time after that date, if advisable. Individual Instruction or Small Classes. Illustrated booklet CONNECTICUT, Milford,Box A. THE Rosennaun SCHOOL, For Girls. Senior and Keene Valley Camp Junior Dept. In Adiron- dacks. .imited to 25. Fxperienced councillors, Swimming, tennis, classic dancing. Handcraft. Tutoring. Separate accommodations for Junior boysand girls 5 to 12 years. Graduate Montessori Instructor. Address IRECTORS, School of Natural Development. NEW YorK, New York City, 620 Riverside Drive. Camp Cobbossee Lake Cobbosseecontee, Me.; 16th Season. Location, equipment, supervision, food the best. Ideal boating, swimming and land sports. Experienced college men. Camp physician. Booklet. R. L. MARSANS, A.B., NEW YORK, Shandaken. irector. Carp Grange Bellport, L. I. For girls and small boys. 50 acres. All sports. Still water and ocean bathing. Camp life adv: Wt tages surrounded by refining home influences. Rates $17 No extras. Catalogues. Address Miss HAGEDORN. NEW YORK, New York City, 606 West 137th St. Conway, N.H., means the hap- CAMP TECONNET For Girls On our own island, China Lake, Maine Dining hall, assembly house, tents. Swimming, For booklet F, address SECRETARY MISS MASON'S SUMMER SCHOOL -on-the- canoeing, motor-boating, land and water sports. |] Girl Scouts’ Training and Games. Crafts and | dramatic projects. Personally directed by Mr. Charles F. Towne and Mrs. Towne. Address 376 Benefit Street, Providence, R. I. (4 FQ | PYTHE TELA-WAUKET CAMPS | all 4 | ~. |
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COSMOPOLITAN VOL.LXIV DECEMBER ,1OL7 NO. 1 ¥ AU — Sz ars Not Scars By Herbert Kaufman leeping tie Se AR is scraping the mines, shearing the flocks, exhausting the eer paddocks, consuming the leather, butchering the herds, emptying 1 Year. the granaries, spending the chemicals, wasting the genius, squander- P ing the vitality To-morrow expected to use. marie) Hungry foundries whine for labor's savings and orphans’ pence. We are ae making cannon out of daily bread—starving knife and fork to feed the guns. Each new offensive is another tax-collector. The mounting toll of cripples ti ae and dependents pales philanthropy, and the Recording Angel shudders at r huts. coming trials of suddenly resourceless women. F = Progress has quit highway building to captain battle. The dollar, the 8 life. hammer, the plow, and the test-tube are trench-chums. poke The most potent and enlightened group of peoples Time knows have pledged their prime men and the last groats of national wealth to just ideals. soit. Life and chattels were never before so cheap—principle never so dear. pal. Though half the universe be wrecked and half our kin be slain, Democracy a, shall persist. We, too, O Lacedemon, can perish in the pass! We, too, He any O Winkelried, have hearts to harvest despot spears! cHOOL, They lied who swore the ages had rot our fiber and shrunk the measure of diron- aman. We have bred true to form—centuries have not dulled the splendor of Tears. ancient faiths; soft living has not seduced the race. sl Behold our millions march forth to serve Duty, and hark to the huzzas as * they pass! nen. We could have ransomed all the misery and lighted the last black corners — of earth with the gold and zeal now promoting woe. ae Civilization might have made a sun-ladder of the timbers in her crucifix. ORN. And yet these things shall sooner come to pass because we found it sweeter te endure a space of grief and desolation than suffer supreme shames. History will not count the present as a loss. The world has so gained in humaneness, in efficiency, in the realization of community power that our \\K4 children shall inherit stars instead of scars. ) L 13
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TELL you the shadows are growing thinner Between this world and the world of the dead: And only the fool cries, ** Fool!" or Sinner!” To one who looks into the life ahead. I tell you the curtain is being lifted— The silence broken, the darkness rifted— And knowledge is taking the place of faith On that vast subject. Death. Yes; now in the place of faith comes knowledge. For the soul of the race is awake to truth. And it rests no longer on school or college Or the crude concepts of the world's first youth. From a larger fountain our minds are drinking— The deep, high Source of divinely thinking— And searching for God in the heart of man: It is so we are ee the Plan. Lik 4 a bs tye _ ess ff ‘ : ‘ ‘ i 14
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DY OLMla. Wheeler Pecoration by WI. Benda Yes; searching for God in the heart of a brother. Yes; living and loving, and trying to guide us— And not on a far-away throne above, Invisible helpers, by God's sweet will, Is a surer method than any other Who ofttimes move through the day beside us. Of finding the Center of truth and love. But aiding us most when our minds are still. And out of that Center a voice is crying I tell you the curtain is being lifted— That our dead are not in their low graves lying. The silence broken, the darkness rifted—- But are living and loving us, close and near. And knowledge is taking the place of faith So long as we hold them dear. On that vast subject, Death. > a 4 ( i he 3 . > 4 = 15
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IKE a great chain of man-made mountains, American- plan and American planned, the Hollenbeck hotels, a granite and rococo chain of them extend through the seven principal cities of as many states, joined by the fine silk web spun from one man’s brain. A sheer web, but with the carrying power to transmit to its center a waiters’ strike in the Mohawk, Detroit; the short- age. of scented guest-soap, specially wrapped, in the New Redwood, San Francisco; the latest hospital-bulletin of a room-clerk caught in an elevator door in the Hotel Fredonia, New York. Sunday supplements, so given to hebdomadal hysteria over a toeless toe-dancer, the latest deposed Lithuanian king, the new Beach-Comb coiffure, print annual two-color first pages of J. G. Hollenbeck in his California chateau in consultation or in golf togs: _ FROM BELL-HOP TO HOTEL KING J. G. SELF-MADE CALIFORNIA MULTIMIL- LIONAIRE, BELIEVES IN SELF-MADE OPPORTUNITY Becins Eacu or His Sons IncoGnito at Bottom or LADDER FOR First YEARS OF HoTet EXPERIENCE UNIVERSITY OF EXPERIENCE BEST TRAINING, HE AVERS In a ninth-story, air-shaft, two-rooms-and-miniature-bath suite of the Fredonia family hotel de /wxe, Mrs. Ida Loth, reading across the top of a fast-plying nail-buffer, paused for a moment, leaning closer. “Did you read this, Sadie, how J. G. Hollenbeck don’t believe in college education for his sons and starts each from the bottom to work himself up under an assumed name?” Miss Sadie Loth, the slim profile of her body to a door- impaneled mirror, glanced down over one shoulder, a mea- suring eye to the intricate details that made up the sim- plicity of her. “Charley Cooper knows Ralph, the second Hollenbeck boy, and says he’s a Jemon.” “Say, a Hollenbeck should worry if he’s a lemon or not!” “Well, just the same, I wish they’d supply their hotels with decent ventilation. The fumes from next week’s Sun- day dinner are coming up that air-shaft.” A quick change of facial expression brought out a frown from beneath Mrs. Loth’s glistening layer of facial cream. “You've got it too good, Sadie Loth! Any other child that found her mother even diving into the principal of the * He took her arm, moving with her into a On the By Fannie money that her poor dead father scrimped and saved for wouldn’t always be hav- ing a long face that nothing was good enough for her. The cost of even these rooms you're always pouting over is strain enough on my in- come. [——” “Then, mamma, why don’t we go back to the little flat where we belong, instead of trying to put on airs? If it was good enough for poor papa while he lived, why isn’t it good enough for us now, just because we’ve got the insurance money? On what we’ve got, we can’t afford it here without taking from the principal each year; it—it’s not even decent to try to put on the way we do since poor papa’s gone, doing our own washing and ironing up here in these expensive, coopy rooms, and then sitting down- stairs in the lobby like we owned the place.” “T wish I had a dollar for every woman that carries her five-hundred-dollar Pomeranian dog into that lobby, and then goes up-stairs, washes out her own handkerchiefs and dries them on the window-pane.”’ “That don’t make it right!” “Why do you think Mrs. Saltus or the Goodmans never ask us up to their rooms? I found out from the chamber- maid that with all their permanent hair-waves and horse- back lessons, they’ve got inside suites—over the kitchens, too. But I’ve got the first time to see one of the Goodman girls with a long face. Why, that Freda nearly carries her mother around since they’ve given up their apartment and moved here where there’s a chance for a girl to work up some social life for herself.” “T’m not Freda Goodman; I’m not man-crazy!”’ “You don’t need to be man-crazy, but ambition for her future never hurt no girl.” “Ts there only one kind of ambition a girl can have?” “That same hucking in the corner that kept your poor father from being a rich man in his lifetime is cropping out in you. ‘Ed,’ I used to say to him, ‘now that we’re making a few dollars, let’s borrow a few more on the strength of it and advance ourselves.’ Not Ed! I think your poor father, as long as he hadn’t big worries on his head, would have been satisfied to live to eighty in that Hundred Illustrated by \ 1». | | =
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small, deserted, red-and-gold anteroom Heights Hurst and eighty-second Street coop.” “It wasn’t a coop to—us. Poor papa loved just to be him- self; it wasn’t his nature to go around faking. He always used to beg you, mam- ma, not to try to fake even in little things. Don’t—memories, mamma, of what he—wanted, mean nothing?” A layer of tears sprang across Miss Loth’s eves, darkening them. Mrs. Loth turned away her glance, her face wry with the look of also wanting to cry. “That’s right; turn the knife in my heart! A woman like me that during her husband's lifetime never did nothing but her duty, living in five rooms when her husband was a six- thousand-dollar-a-vear man, doing——”’ “| didn’t mean it, mamma. Honest, dearie, I didn’t mean a word of what I said! I just got to talking, mamma— dearie!” She crossed, laying her cheek to the hair-waves of her parent, patting her. “Ts it a crime, now that she’s got no father to protect her—is it a crime to be ambitious for your own daughter?” “No, mamma; no, no!” “Now that we’re on the subject—it—it’s something a woman don’t talk about even to her own daughter, but— bt don’t you suppose that after you're fixed in life that— that I’ve got ambitions for myself, too?’” “Mamma!” “T’m a young woman. Mr. Shelburne, the grass-widower in this floor parlor-suite, says he took us for sisters. I’ve kept as loving mourning for two years as ever a woman kept, but afte: my daughter marries well and—and me alone in the world, '-—I’m not the woman to live with my married daugh- ter. I’m a young woman, Sadie; men ain’t blind to me!” “Why, mamma, you mean—you—yourself——”’ “With my daughter married, and you can’t say I’ve so much as looked at an opportunity with her unmarried, is there anything wrong for me to try and set myself down comfortable with some good man providing for the rest of my days? Is there anything wrong for me to want my daug'iter to set herself comfortable first? There ain’t many T. D. Skidmore women with an elegant opportunity like Mr. Shelburne anxious to show them attention could show my record, now since we're on the subject, Sadie.” Her cheek still to the hair-wayes and her breathing almost inaudible, Miss Loth kept her pose there, staring straight ahead, her face tightening, whitening. “Ts there—anything wrong in such sacrifice, now that we're talking about things, Sadie?” “No, mother,” she said finally, going back to the mirror to administer with trancelike movements the finishing pats to her toilet. ‘*“There—there’s nothing wrong in a woman that men ain’t blind to, being human, Sadie.”’ ““No, mother; no, no!” In spite of herself, a tremor ran through her voice, and, in the act of adjusting a very close-fitting, very tip-tilted tur- ban, she sat down suddenly on a chair-edge, tightening her lips against tremblfng. “All this don’t mean, Sadie, that I'm not glad to make every sacrifice for an only child—eating into my principal this way proves it—only, it’s aggravating to have young ones unappreciative.”’ “Even before poor papa died, I wanted to go to high school and business college. If I had gone to business col- lege, I could strike out now for myself and let you—— : child whose father was-a-six-thousand-dollar-a-year man and commissions and carried such a life-insurance policy didn’t need business college. I was a saleslady my- self, Sadie, and I know how rich boys look on a girl in busi- ness. But I married above me, even if I did work, and I ex- pect my young one, with every advantage and clothes and style that I didn’t have, to marry above herself.” “Oh, mamma, there you go again with always ‘ Marry, marry!” “T’d like to know where you'd be to-day if it wasn’t for marry? When you're old enough to come to your senses and are married to a man that can take care of vou the way a girl’s got to be taken care of nowadays, you'll thank your mother for steering vou right. With your face and figure, there’s no position you can’t aspire to, and, believe me, there’s nothing can spoil a woman’s looks and age her and ruin her life so quick as money-worry with a poor man.” “Money's not everything.” “No; but without it you’re nothing.” “Well, if I don’t like a fellow, I don't like him, not if he’s got a million!” a \) > Vv le it ~ > yr e 1- Tr d r | r- 3 S, d e yr it wy d =
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18 On the Heights “Sadie, this ain’t for publication—God forbid I should say it, even to my own child, if it wasn’t to teach her her mis- takes—but don’t think when I married your poor father that I was so crazy in love with him. But I did a little figuring. What was I? A saleslady in a Cincinnati department store, three younger sisters at home, and a man like your father, a silk salesman for a big New York silk-house, asks for me. In those days, a three-thousand-dollar salaried man looked like a ten would to-day. I seen my duty to my parents and I did it. You see how your nonsense about the love-part takes care of itself? Have you ever seen a couple, even with what he called my extravagant ideas, get on better than me and your poor father did?” Miss Loth sat still on the chair- edge, twirling a signet-ring on her slim third finger, face still averted. “Did you?” Twirled it once more, signet palm- inward. ‘Answer me—did you?” mamma.” ‘Where would I be to-day if I had stopped to think that maybe your father was a little thin on the top or had a wart on his chin?” Cass has two.” What?” “Warts.” “Suppose he has. He has the means to take care of a girl, too.” ‘How do vou know?” “Say, a voung chap like Cass Howard can't live in the Fredonia off and on twelve months in the year, hire an auto every time he takes a girl as far as the corner, and dress and act the way he does without something to back it. The people he knows in Cincinnati alone is enough tc prove how he stands. Mrs. Bergdorff says the Howard family is known all over the West. You bet, Sadie, if I'd reached the stage with a fellow like him where he invites me to dinner every other night, even on the very night he’s leaving town, I'd have some kind of an understanding before his train pulled out or know the reason why not. Where’s he taking vou to supper?” ‘IT don’t know. If it wasn't the way you—nag, mamma, I wouldn’t goastep. He's the silliest fellow ] ever knew. Can't talk five words of sense to a girl—just half soft all the time “Tve got no more to say, Sadie. If you think you're doing the right thing to huck here next to me every evening, waiting for the King of England to come along and propose, why you just huck, then. What do you think Mr. Shelburne said to me the other night? ‘Mrs. Loth,’ he says to me, he says, “guess why I'd like to take your little daughter out on a hot night,’ he ‘Why?’ says I to him, never dream- ‘Because she’s such an Imagine a mother’s feel- says. ing what he meant. iceberg,’ he says. ings to hear that!” * That old thing!” “That old thing is re-fined and wealthy cnough to suit my tastes.” ‘Not mine.” “Cass Howard is as sweil a boy as there is in this hotel. Just you sit home nights and huck and see where it'll get you. He's waiting now down in the lobby for you. Telephone down and say you're going to sit home and huck by me.” Miss Loth rose then, aloof from desire, but with a spiritu- ous air of as-you-will, pressed her head snugger into the tight hat, and again before the long mirror, slid into an er- veloping near-seal coat that wrapped her around and hali- around again. Slimly dark, there was about her something almost of Asia, as if sun and sand and the star-dust of desert nights had gone to mold her. Above the yielding nap of fur, her face was indubitably quite purely oval and tilted to that offish angle that goes with drawing into gloves. going,mamma. Don’t worry; I’m going.” Mrs. Loth rose, too, out of the low rocker and the clutter of manicure tools and Sunday paper. She was her daughter’s mother only in the still-voung and rather supple flow of body beneath the pink cotton-crépe kimono. Under the waves of strong, “Did you read this, Sadie, how J. G. Hollenbeck wey believe in college education for his sons and starts each from the bottom to work himself up under an assumed name?” prematurely white hair, elaborately piled, the face came out with aquiline force of feature. Back to back, she and her daughter were sisters, except that there were two sides to ‘ — / | | ™
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be consid- ered. In Hotel Fre- donia, Hals, Rem- brandt, and Whistler, who painted adora- tion into the tired, wide bosom of maternity and the wrinkles of old age with a reverence that made old flesh holy, would have found pause. Here sixty walked on heels that six- teen feared to tread. In the lobby, of eve- ; nings, the massaged, marcelled mothers de luxe ol a non-housekeeping era exchanged lap-dog pedigrees, almond creams, and tired husbands. Very presently, Mrs. Loth would emerge from the pink kimono and facial cream down into that lobby, a back-to-back version of a daughter whose pollen of skin no massage could emulate. ‘Sadie, you look beautiful! You're a fashion-plate!” Miss Loth held up a languid cheek to be kissed. Fannie Hurst 19 I guess it will be late when I get back. Cass is catching that eleven-twenty Detroit special.” ‘Let him blow vou in an auto out to Grandview for sup- per. Mr. Shelburne says it’s all the rage out there this season.” “It’s not where you go makes an evening grand or not; ‘it’s who you go with.” Zn Mrs. Loth enclosed her daughter’s small face in the vise of her two hands. ‘Sadie, would mamma want anything that wasn’t for her girl’s good? Do I want to see my daughter a happy girl for the rest of her days with a man that can support her in style, or a drudge for some poor devil? Is mamma making every sacrifice, and is she willing to set back and do almost anything to see her girl happy? It ain’t only for myself, Sadie. If it was just to get rid of you, wouldn’t I have en- couraged you to run with Charley Cooper that time, and then have had you both on my hands to support? I know more about life than you do, Sadie. The way you've been raised, even when we lived up in the flat, you ain't the wife for a poor man.” *T never wanted this “Oh, yes; you think maybe you'd be satisfied the way we used to live when your poor father was alive, way up on Washington Heights where the dogs wouldn’t bark at us, but I know better. Your father was a good man, Sadie, but he held us down. There never was a fuss in that little flat up there that wasn’t over money. He couldn’t give up. There wasn’t a spending bone in his body. I know what it is to be held down, Sadie. Don’t turn up your nose at a fellow like Cass Howard. You hear, Sadie; it’s your mother talking to you—your own mother that’s willing to make every sacri- fice. Don’t! You hear?” Miss Loth lifted her mother’s arms from her shoulders and turned to open the door. ‘““Yes, mother; I hear,” she said, and went out, down the turkey-red aisle of hall carpet, a quarter of a mile of it, then * toward the elevator—slowly. In a lower lobby of marble Corinthian columns with gold- leaf acanthus leaves; red velvet, gold-fringed foyer-chairs; Circassian-walnut registration desk; a row of palm-itching bell-hops in converging lines of brass buttons; a bronze blind Nydia holding a fern-basket, Mr. Cass Howard rose from the extreme and cigarette-hazy depths of one of the red-velvet foyer-chairs, hitched a very elevated trouser-leg down over the newest of clocking in silk hose, tossed the just-lighted cigarette into the fern-basket, and _ strolled toward the bronze elevator, Miss Loth emerging. “Good-morning, Glory!” She clicked her very tall, very slim heels together and threw him a salute off the side of the fur turban. He took her arm, moving with her into a small, deserted, red-and-gold anteroom. ‘How are you, beh-beh?” he said, his fingers closing ever so slightly into her arm. She withdrew, frowning, seating herself in a spacious chair that looked out upon the dusky wintry flow of upper Broadway. ‘Haven't I asked you a dozen times, Cass, not to call me that?” “What?” “Whatever it is you call “Beh-beh? Well, ain’t you my beh-beh doll?” “No, I’m not.” “What’s the matter with beh-beh? There’s not many girls I’d call that.” “T don’t like it. It sounds horrid.” He half sat on the generously upholstered arm of her chair, looking down into her face, flecking an imaginary something off the ermine-faced coat collar. “Touchy, ain’t you?” he said, his gaze from under hali- closed lids seeking to rivet hers. “Freshy!” she said, letting her gaze be captured. Then 4 \ \ ere ert ur, lat 3 ‘ + 4 e yut 1er to
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20 On the Heights they both laughed, and he rose, strolling off to lean, in a loose posture, against the door-frame, gazing back at her. “You're all right, sister,” he said; “I like you.” When Mr. Howard laughed, there was a slight clucking in the back of his throat, not discernible.on the lips. When he spoke, too, there was only a slightest movement of the mouth. Tall to lankiness and stooping of that excessive * height, the black hair already thinning on top, the ears spread slightly as if contemplating flight, he looked ten vears his own senior and weary that life’s cup could brim so. “What's on the carpet for this evening, beh-beh?”’ She turned her head without lifting it from the chair-back to gaze out upon the thickening December dusk; the row of taxi-cabs standing at the curb, chauffeurs beating them- selves for warmth; lights popping out like silent pistol-shots; a steady stream of pedestrians bending into the wind and turning down into a subway kiosk; a Sunday-evening air of relaxed traffic, surface-cars passing at greater-than-usual intervals. A gust of sleet beat occasionally against the win- dow like fine sand blown. ; “T don’t know, Cass. Why have you got to be always looking for excitement? I should think, if vou want to take that eleven-twenty train, we'd better have supper right here at the hotel.” “What's the idea? Tl tuck you in an auto and shoot vou out to Grandview, where they have some Sunday-night pep. Lobby concerts ain’t my speed to-night.” “But, Cass, if you want that eleven-twenty——”’ “Come on; you leave it to little Cass to catch his train and anything else he goes after. If you're real good, I'll put my bag in the car now, and let you drop me at the sta- tion and then bring vour little self back to the hotel alone in the auto. That is, if you promise you won't let any- body kidnap you.” She brightened. “That'll be a stunt, Cass!” ‘Leave it to little Cass for brain-work,”’ he said, steering her out through the lobby, stopping to slide into a fur-lined greatcoat, lighting a cigar from a match held out by a hat- boy. <A bell-hop placed a black alligator bag in the mauve- lined car after them. They lunged forward, immediately turning into the cross-town flow toward Riverside Drive. He relaxed into a two-thirds reclining posture, feet on the robe-rack and his long, slim legs humping up in the gloom. She could see their boniness outlined. A peariy curl of smoke began to wind up. “Don’t,” she said, withdrawing from its haze. He flung the full-length cigar from the slit of open window. “Anything your little heart desires,” he said, turning on his hip and gazing up at her from that low posture. She lay back to the purring motor, closing her eves, her Jashes touching her cheeks on the curve of their upward curl. He slid his hand into her muff. “Quit!” she cried, sitting immediately erect. Touchy!” “Freshy!” They laughed again. “Sorry I'm going away, beh-beh?” “Uh huh,” she said, gazing out at the streak of lighted shops flying past. “Write to me?” “Uh huh.” “T'll be back two weeks from to-day, day before Christ- mas at twelve, high noon. Is that a date to meet my train?” She rubbed a little area for herself on the clouding window- glass. “Is it, beh-beh?” “Cass, if you're not the nagger!”’ He laid his hand against her knee; beneath the fur coat her muscles contracted, but she did not withdraw. “You sure got my goat, beh-beh,”’ he said, looking up at her, his face foreshortened and faunal. “You going to Detroit on business, Cass?” “Yes,” he said. ‘Want to come along?” “What business?” ‘Little matter for the firm.” “You're the funniest fellow! Other boys talk about their jobs.” rather talk about you.” “One minute you say you're in the automobile-supply business and the next in Wall Street and the next “T’m a little bit in every business. What's the diff, just so I can buy the beh-beh all the good times she wants. Here— let me take that curl out of your eye.” “No.” “Hold still!” ‘*Ugh—oh, quit, Cass; you’re the silliest ——’ ‘Behave yourself!” he said, slapping her restraining hand. “You behave yourself,” she said, thrusting him from her. He fell back in a mock heap against the far side of the car. “Meany!” For some minutes they rode in silence, he elaborating the mock state. “Here we are!” she cried, peering out. They drew up beneath a lighted porte-cochére set on an eminence and overlooking a sullen, gun-metal flow of Hud- son River. Were bowed out, bowed in, and finally bowed through a great mirror-lined dining-hall to the clutter, the clatter, the glitter of those who dine too well. New York, which each scintillating season makes or breaks some or other restaurateur to the restless palate, was partaking its Sunday-night hors d’wuvres at one dollar and sixty cents per portion. A triple line of motor-cars with dimmed acetylene eyes awaited the orchestra-accompanied, favors-for-the- ladies orgy. Grandview-on-the-Hudson was making pay while the midnight sons shone upon it. When Mr. Howard and Miss Loth entered, there was a four-dollar admission fee to this hall of the mznad, the satyr, and Agipan. Exit came somewhat higher. They dined for three hours and fifteen minutes at a table overlooking a sleet-riddled night view of river and palisade. Din rose off the tables like cloud. At almost eleven, Miss Loth strained back in her chair, reading a clock encircled in two colors of incandescents. “Cass, we've got only thirty minutes for your train, and it’s a bad night for skidding.” He drained the last of his creme de menthe up through its bed of shattered ice, dove into his pocket, his body at a hypotenuse. ‘All right, sister. Here, waiter; shoot the check.” _ She adjusted her furs, and unwadding her gloves, worked into them. “Feel better, beh-beh?” “T should say so,” she said, raising her eyes, smiling at him. ‘“Ain’t such a bad guy after all, am I?” “This is some gay place,” she said, snapping her gloves closed, glancing round. “Nothing to what I’m going to show you when I get back.”’ She smiled at h n again above the din of an Hawaiian quartet, an adjoining table of confetti-throwers, the poly- glot voices of the scarlet-lipped and darkened-eyed women who dare not cease to laugh. on, sister,” he said. She preceded him out, lowering her eves and picking out a path between tables, that path bombarded by the close glances of men. “T’ve certainly got to hand it to you, beh-beh; you do make ’em stop, look, and listen!” “Sh-h-h, Cass!’ she said, standing in the wind-swept porte-cochére while their car drew up. The sleet had turned to rain and, as they drove into it, beat a fine tattoo about them. “That’s the way I like them. Give me a chilly high- stepper every time,” he said, seating himself closely beside her, hand on her knee again. “You got vour reservations and everything, Cass?” “Chilly!” he said, his face closer to hers. “Cass, can't you ever be anything but just silly? Can’t you talk about—things, like a regular fellow?” ‘ 4 2 t
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takes time to— to run around with my kind of a fellow” > 2 6 3 E 3 = 5 > 3 o v E | SKIDMORE n t | | a t n : se > ) >. { RAWN BY T. D, t 4 2
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“Don't look at me that way"’—making a mouthing mo- tion after her finger of remonstrance—“ or I'll bite.” Too crowded in to withdraw, she sat in a kind of tense quietude, knees pressing together, her small mouth very straight. “Vou going to miss me, beh-beh?” *T’ve told vou ves, Cass, a hundred times. Honest, you'd think you were going to Africa instead of Detroit for two weeks.” ‘Going to meet me on that twelve-o'clock high-noon train when I get back the day before Christmas?” ‘Suppose I say, * Yes,’ then what?” “What vou going to give me for Christmas when I get back?” “House with a fence around it.” * Don't want a house with a fence around it.” “Well then, a stick of peppermint.” “Don't want a stick of peppermint.” “Well, then, little boy, what do you want?” she said, try- ing to smile down her tired tolerance of his facetiousness. He burst into her cue almost before she was finished, and suddenly realizing, she threw out after it, ‘ Cass, | meant “T want you,” he said, so-crushingly close that she flung back her face from his breathing. *‘* You hear—vyou're the girl for me; I want you!” Averting her face, she sought to thrust him from her. “Cass, vou mustn't!” “I'm crazy over you, girl, crazy! Never thought any nice girl could get me going. No wedding-bells for my kind of a fellow, I used to think. But I want to marry you for my own. You hear—marry vou—and when J ask a girl to marry me, it means I got the coin to back it up with That’s what I think of you. Now vou going to kiss me, vou little iceberg, vou! Now?” “Don't you touch me!” she said, keeping her arm’s length of him. ** Don't vou touch me!” He fell back, staring at her in the gloom of the speeding car. “Didn't I say I wanted to marry vou, Chilly? Ain‘t even that enough to thaw out a little iceberg like you?” *“You—why, Ive only known you a few weeks, Cass. I—I can't listen to such talk from a fellow that just came along out of a clear sky. 1 “You're not all wrong there, kiddo. Now, you just prick up vour little pink ear and I’m going to whisper something in it. Here come here; I won't bite here : ‘**I—Cass—we're here it’s sixteen minutes after eleven—you'll miss it we re here They were slowing and drawing up beside the mar- ble arch of a marble station. “See, Cass—we're here- “Darnation!” he said, plunging a hand into the recesses of his greatcoat, fumbled, withdrew a bit of cardboard and, peering to scrawl a hasty line across its face, turned down one corner of it and 22 On the Heights thrust it to her just asa red-cap shoved in his head be.” tween them. Baggage, sir?” “That'll hold vou for a while, sister, that and what I’m going to write you special delivery to-morrow,” he said, climbing out over his bag and leaning back to her. “Tl be back on that twelve-o’clock high-noon flier day before Christmas with wedding-bells on. You be here to meet me, beh-beh?” She thrust the card into her blouse, leaning out from the car, urgent. : “Cass, it’s nearly eleven-twenty! train.” “Remember twelve, high noon, day before Christmas. Are you on, beh-beh?”’ **Cass—how you won't even give me time to think!” “T’ve given vou something to think about all-righty!”’ “But ‘**Now, smile at me like a girl ought to when her best beau means business with her. Smile, or I'll miss my train! Smile, like your mamma taught you to!” The car jerked her forward from him. She turned quite around in her seat toward where he stood with the attendant red-cap. Smiled. All the way back up the avenue, with the rain driving finely into the face of the car, she sat, a least possible huddle upon the spacious seat. It was as if, whatever the cauldron of her emotions, they had boiled down to a white kind of solidity which came out finally in her face. At the hotel, a late quietude had fallen over the lobby, and as she approached the desk, its vastness seemed to have something of the tarnished glory of an after-the-ball- room. ‘Two drowsy bell-hops nodded on their bench beside the elevators, a porter with a long-handled dust-pan and broom picked up here and there. The magazine-stand stood bare of its pretty-girl covers and candy-boxes. * Kev, please,” she said, after waiting a moment at the deserted desk. A sleek young head came then around the let- ter-rack and the kind of shoulders with a constant flow of muscle be- neath them—a blond, lean- jawed young man, as por- trayed in blazer on magazine cover. You'll miss your For an hour longer, little bare feet protruding, the room sill d rad bag °
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“Room, please.” “Oh,” she said, with an unnecessary and uncontrollab!e : impulse to giggle into her muff. ‘‘ Nine hundred and one. | i didn’t know there was a new clerk.” ‘m @G “Didn’t you?” he said, showing the great majority of his id, @ teeth ina smile, handing her the key and dragging his fingers ll : slowly back across the counter after their slight contact re with hers. ; “Good-night,” she said, still trying to control the unex- plainable mirth. he ‘“‘Good-night,”’ he said, showing the white smile after her until she shot up in the elevator. ur Up in the mahogany-and-velours sitting-room, the daven- | port-bed lay invitingly opened, covers turned back, a white as. ; couch for her. Her mother’s voice came from the edjoining bedroom, drowsy, full of sleep. “Sadie?” “Ves, mamma.” “ Anything new?” au “No—mamma.” in! “Sadie, whadda you think?” : “What?” ite 4 “There’s a new night clerk on, the unt ‘ swellest fellow you ever seen. Mrs. Saltus has it from good authority ing i he’s the youngest Hellenbeck boy in disguise.” A full second Miss Loth of stood there as if listening to her own breathing. by, 4 to all- @ ide @ nd ind ‘ ent let- a be- an. or; ine 3 chilling with each moment, she sat on the bed-edge, regarding it Fannie Hurst ‘You hear, Sadie?” * Yes, mamma.” “ Ain't that rich? I talked to him to-night over the coun- ter, and you never heard such a clever fellow in vour life. Ain't that rich?” “VYes—mamma.”’ “Close that door if you’ve come home like a mummy again with nothing to say about where you been or to what I got to tell you. The light streams in—close—the—door.”’ She closed it softly, her face dewy in its pinkness. Fora full half-hour she undressed, pausing to dawdle and smile over each move. Stepping from the mound of her clothing into a sheer, straight little night-robe, a bit of cardboard, turned down at one end, fell to the floor. She picked it up, read it. For an hour longer, little bare feet protruding, the room chilling with each moment, she sat on the bed- edge, regarding it. At the approach of Christmas, men’s homing instinct takes place over the roving instinct. Memories long since crowded back into the attic-places of the mind begin to stir with a faint ache for the smell of pies cooling on a frosty Ohio window-ledge: a Minne- sota farm snowed in and the lusty sport of clearing; an old face, lamp-lit; the ring of the ax into this year’s selected fir tree; the long, silent embrace of aged arms. At Christmas-time, Hotel Fredonia emptied to this same itching of the heart. Men and women whose faces the city : had honed to a knife-edge de- parting with bisque dolls and knitted bed-jackets in their traveling-bags. In the lobby, two days be- fore Christmas, a huge bell of red tissue-paper, fluted like a watile, hung between each pair of the marble pillars, decorative solace to those unfor- tunates marooned upon the desert*isle of a hotel Christmas. Of a December morning that was bril- liant with sunshine but its clear cold filled with a windless sting that nipped, Mrs. Loth, tailored and surmounted with a white-fox scarf that was fitting complement to the careful scroll of her prematurely white coiffure, and in a small turban of green-gold breast-feathers adjusted at the same youthful tilt as her daughter’s beside her, sat on one of the red-velvet fauteuils of the Fredonia lobby, directly opposite to the Circassian-walnut office enclosure. “Hasn't he got the finest head, Sadie!” Miss Loth cupped her chin in her white- (Continued on page 112) > 23 “fie. 4 , a ae ae om
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irtuous ives By Owen Johnson - Illustrated by George Gibbs NDREW FORRESTER, an energetic and ambitious New York business man connected with the manufacture of structural steci, has married Amy Starling, whose wealthy father her mother having died when she was twelve—- has brought her up to consider herself an object for all the luxuries of life. She has been petted and spoiled, and every responsibility has been spared her. She is now only twenty, and finds it difficult to grasp the sense of her new position and has a feeling of strangeness and_ isolation in the large apartment furnished in none too good taste to which her husband has brought her. She is looking forward to her entrance into the fashion- able younger married set with pleasure, tempered with some apprehension. An invitation comes to spend a few days with the Dellabarres on Long Island. On the way down in their car, Andrew tells her that the following night he is to see Gunther, a prominent capitalist, in regard to the offer of the presidency of a refining and smelting company which, however, he is not inclined to accept. It will mean a great deal more money, but also long absences in Arizona and Mexico. On reaching the Dellabarres, neither host nor hostess is on hand to welcome them. Miss Rane, the -housekeeper, presently appears and makes nervous excuses for their strange reception, at which Amy is somewhat perturbed. INCE the morning, the Dellabarre house- hold had been in an uproar, the guests * uncomfortably conscious of eavesdropping, Mr. Dellabarre sulking, the children neg- lected, while Miss Bane ran to the telephone to command or countermand the car, postpone the dinner, and send frantic inquiries for Mrs. Clove, Mrs. Dellabarre’s mother, who was sorely needed to restore the peace. While the servants were in a panic for the secur- ity of their winter positions; while the guests—Mrs. Light- body, young Dawson, and Laracy—had fled to the country club for lunch; while the children had covered themselves with grease at the garage and were bawling at the top of their lungs; while Mr. Dellabarre was savagely pacing his library with a longing to smash the mantel ornaments, Irma Della- barre, quietly ensconced on a Recamier chaise longue by the flowery window of her little morning-room, was solicitously brushing the coat of Mon Amour, the Pekingese. j At four o'clock, her mother arrived like a gust of wind that sets every door in the house to banging. Though Mrs. Clove experienced not the slightest anxiety at these periodic summons, she came all in a flutter, prepared to stretch her visit to agreeable proportions by agreeing both with her daughter, whom she idolized, and with her son-in-law— first, because she was sure he would be in the right, and, second, because she had that sense of gratitude which is the lively looking-forward to favors to come. “My poor darling,”’ she cried, after the first sympathetic embrace, “I was afraid I'd find vou in tears!” 24 At the charming appearance of Amy on the “1? No; why should I?” said Irma, rising to put Mon Amour in his pink cradle. “I suppose I’ve been stupid somehow; but, Lord, I can’t imagine where!” “Well, dear, who is it this time?” said Mrs. Clove, drawing of her gloves. From behind she had the figure of sixteen. She dressed in baby pinks and blues, and might have passed for the early thirties. “Heavens, if he’d only say! But you know Rudy. He’s capable of sulking a week before I can get it out of him. No, I assure you; this time I haven't the slightest idea of whom he’s jealous.” The mother contented herself with an admiring glance. “My darling child, how can he be angry at anything so lovely as you are?” Irma smiled. She adored compliments, even from her own mother. She had a sense of the scenic, and, even in her own bedroom, kept in the picture. Her charm was of art rather than from any natural gift, for while her body was slender and graceful, her head, which was Latin, was striking, COPYRIGHT, 1017, BY INTERNATIONAL MAGAZINE COMPANY : o A. | | be |
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ve staircase, there wasa sudden hush of curiosity. The new world to conquer, her world, lay below though the bo!dness of hér forehead was softened by the deep- black hair which had been directed in curling abundance about thetemples. Her eyebrows were bold; her nose was too aquiline, but her teeth shone against the duskiness of her com- plexion and the brilliant rouge of her lips. | What was really individual were the eyes, which were of a thin gray, so clear and so light that they gave the effect of being as transparent as the negligée which floated lightly about her in a cloud of old lace which had cost the price of a season’s wardrobe. ‘My dear mother,” she said calmly, “you don’t know Rudy. Appreciate what he’s got? Why, he would be de- lighted if I’d go about in flannel wrappers and braid my hair like a dowdy little Hausfrau. I don’t see how I stand it. He’s getting more and more impossible.” Mrs. Clove, with the memory of twenty lean years in gen- tcel boarding-houses, appreciated what sacrifices her daugh- ter had been called upon to make. Tell me all about-it,” she said, patting her hand with sympathy. POLITAN MAGAZINE COPYRIGHTED IN GREAT BRIFAIN Irma raised her eyebrows. ‘Good heavens, mother, there’s nothing to tell! He’s been making a scene about everything but the real reason—” She hesitated. ‘‘He began by giving up his hunting-trip.”’ Mrs. Clove did not disguise her surprise. “As serious as that?” “Yes.” “Tt’s a man, of course?” “Of course.” you really have no idea?” ““No, The second negative and the impatient shrug which ac- companied it confirmed Mrs. Clove in her suspicions. She went down to the library. Mr. Dellabarre was walking back and forth before the fireplace with precise little steps. ‘Ah, there you are!” he said, with a sudden treble rise in his weak voice, but, correcting himself, he added ceremoni- ously: ‘How do you do? Iam very glad indeed to see you.” He gave his hand limply,as though he were making her a ; 1 ) :
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“The ladies were showing their claws, eh?” present of it, and suddenly reddened with embarrassment, for his pride was excessive and he suffered during these scenes, which his timidity prolonged. He was a gray, perpendicular little man, passing fifty, with a short, stubby nose, overhanging eyebrows, and a gray, drooping mustache, a drooping glance, and a voice which drooped into whispers. He held himself stiffly, and his arms and legs moved on hinges. He dressed in a stiff gray cutaway, which appeared newly starched, square-toed boots, and a made-up tie of pepper and salt, pierced by a fat cameo pin. Eccentric, old-fashioned, and furtively shy, there was still a precise dignity about him which % I felt them™ commanded respect, even from the crowd of irreverent youngsters who danced, gambled, and paid their court to his wife. “Tell me all about it, my dear Rudolph,” said Mrs. Clove, with the utmost sympathy. ‘What has that poor child been doing now?” Mr. Dellabarre instantly began to defend his wife. “Tt’s my fault. It’s your fault—yes; of course it’s your fault,” he said, in jerky sentences, after a glance at the door. “Tt’s the fault of American education, of the ridiculous way we permit young girls to be brought ap. Irma is what we have made her. Yes; but that doesn’t help any, and that - i ; at P 4 = 3 4
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isn't the point,” he added, suddenly perceiving where this would lead him. ‘She has her side, but I have my side, too, and I tell you now I’m going to come toa decision.” In all this, there was nothing new. So Mrs. Clove contented herself with a sympa- thetic sigh and the remark, “Tt is very sad.” “What do I count for inmy own house?” continued Mr. Della- barre, in a thin com- plaint. ‘Nothing! Do you suppose anyone ever comes here as my friend?” ‘You mean, my dear Rudolph, what does Irma bring to you in your marriage?” said Mrs. “Clove, who knew that, so long as he generalized, they would get nowhere. “Exactly,” said Mr. Dellabarre. “But she is no different from others of her set, is she?” “The modern wife is a monster,’ said Mr. Dellabarre angrily. ‘Do you suppose Irma even knows the names of her own servants? Do you? I’m not sure she knows the names of her own children, for all she sees of them.” “Now, Rudolph,” said Mrs. Clove, lifting a chubby hand in protest. “You don’t believe it? Doris coughed all last night. Do vou think Irma has even heard about it? She isn’t a mother. She isn’t a wife. She isn’t a housekeeper. What does she do? She amuses herself. That is all she thinks of from morning to night, and that is all any of them think of. Well, I’m going to come to some decision.” M rs. Clove saw that he had no intention of being specific. “TI will speak to Irma,” she said, in a tone of decision, wondering if her daughter had given him any real cause for jealousy. “Poor dear, she is dreadfully upset!” ‘She should be.” “But has any thing happened—anything special?” “What! Don’t you think that is enough?” “My dear Rudolph, of course I do!” she said hastily, starting for the door. “I will talk at once with Irma. She certainly should pay more attention to the children. You should ask more of her. You should insist! But, Owen Johnson 27 then—vou said it yourseli—it’s the life of the younger generation.’ “Well, I've made up my mind,” said Mr. Dellabarre rapidly, ‘‘and I’m going to make a decision.”’ Mrs. Clove knew her daughter and her inherent appetite for admiration, but she judged her incapable of going further than a light flirtation, because she understood the modern coquette’s need of multiplicity in her adorers. “Well?” said Irma, without looking up from a novel. ‘““He’s very excitable.” “T see I shall have to go down,” said Irma, who perceived that her mother had learned nothing. She rose. “It is really too humiliating. Kitty Lightbody is here, and will tell it all over New York. I must bring it to a head—a violent scene; that’s the only way,” she concluded, re- arranging her hair in the mirror. “But you must have a suspicion?” “Of whom he is jealous? My dear mother, it might be any one of twenty men. No one could be more careful than I. Just look how people talk about Kitty and Gladys Challoner. But a lot of good it does me. If I gave him any reason—’’ She paused. “Do you think my life is an easy one? Do you think it isn’t shockingly humiliating to have your husband fuddled every night regularly at six o’clock? Do I reproach him?” She shrugged her shoulders, glanced at the mirror, rectified the line of her negligée, and tripped down to the library. “My dear Rudolph, we must come somewhere, quietly, ‘otherwise, I am determined to countermand the dinner and make my excuses to Kitty and the boys. What exactly and precisely do you reproach me with this time?” Mr. Dellabarre came to a full stop opposite his wife. “You know very well,” he said suddenly. “T know what you have been saying to me all morning and what vou’ve been repeating to mother. Is that all?” “All!” exclaimed Mr. Dellabarre, who, fired anew, re- peated again his theories about the upbringing of the modern woman. Mrs. Dellabarre arranged herself patiently in an armchair and waited until the subject should have ex- hausted itself. At the end of ten minutes, she rose and rang for Miss Bane. ‘Miss Bane, kindly call up Mrs. Challoner, the Brackens, and the Ponsivals. Inform them that I am obliged to coun- termand the dinner to-night. Say that we are afraid Doris has the measles. Mr. Dellabarre thinks it unwise to expose others. That is all.” Miss Bane withdrew. “Now, my dear, everyone will know now that we have been quarreling,” she said quietly. To her surprise, her husband did not flinch, despite the horror she knew he had of public gossip. She determined, therefore, to force the issue. ‘My dear Rudolph, you may save yourself the pains. I know all this by memory. Your description of me is exact. I am a modern wife, if you will, the wife of a rich man. I don’t cook; I don’t darn the children’s socks; I don’t haggle over the butcher’s bill or the price of eggs. All this is true. But why did you marry me?” As she intended, this threw him into a state of fury. “Marry you?” he cried. ‘‘ You know very well I married you because you wanted me to.” She saw the sudden flare-up of jealousy in the strange shut-in nature of the man who still loved her. She had a moment of pity, for she had a kind heart and often re- turned to those good resolutions she had formed at the altar of her marriage, when she had passed from the shadow of scheming and privation into the new world of gratifica- tion and power. But immediately angered by the justice of his remark, she rang imperiously and gave orders to pack her trunk on the instant. “That is going too far,”’ she said coldly. “You are quite sober and you know what you are saying. I shall leave here at once, and shall stay away until you come to your senses. The situation is intolerable.” ” she said g ae ty ‘ ent to rs. yur Or. ay we lat
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28 Virtuous Wives “Tt is intolerable,” he said, and the hand which he held rigidly before him began to shake as she had never seen it do before. “I quite agree with vou—vou had better go and come to your senses!” “What! He is going to let me go without a word of pro- test,” she thought, frightened for the first time in his pres- ence. She had an uneasy feeling that what she was facing was not a spasmodic outburst but a definite rebellion. She turned and came back. “T won't discuss vour last insult. You are, at least, a gen- tleman, and you will realize yourself the indelicacy of such a remark. Now, my dear Rudolph, if vou really wished the kind of fireside paragon that vou describe, vou could easily have had one. There are thousands of them. If vou didn’t, it is because you wanted just what you have got—a wife of whom you could be proud, a wife to give vou a brilliant home, a wife who would bring you vouth and charm, a wife, in a word, to decorate your house. So much for that. Whatever else you can accuse me of, I have never com- promised the dignity of your name. My name has never been handed about. I've taken the greatest care that if men paid me attention—and you'd be the first to regret it if they didn’t—no special one should ever be distin- guished. This, however, vou don’t appreciate.” In hearing her speak thus; with all the charm and grace which she knew how to convey to her words, it seemed to him that he was utterly wrong. Hestammered out: “What do I care about that? You can have a hundred men about you.” “Which means it’s only one person you object to,” said Irma instantly. ‘In other words, all these diatribes are just subterfuges. You are afraid to say what vou think, because you know that it will sound ridiculous. You are jealous again of some one man.’ He looked at her and then down at the floor. ‘Well, who is it?” “You know very well.” She knew, but to name him would give the appearance of confession. At the bottom, she knew—what he himself did not realize—that the trouble lay deeper, in the impossibility of simulating the love he craved. “T have not the slightest idea,” she said quietly, because, in her certainty of victory she always felt a little compassion and because she was impatient to end this scene which inter- fered with her projects for the evening. this time? Is it Tody Dawson or Jap Laracy? would surprise me.” “No; it’s not!” Suddenly he turned and, fixing her with his weak eyes that all at once gathered points of anger, he cried, “T won't have you talked about with Monte Bracken! “Monte! My dear Rudy. vou are insane!” she exclaimed, in excellent bewilderment. **A man I haven't seen for years until last month, whom I have met perhaps six times! **Exactly—Monte Bracken!” he said, coming close to her, his face disfigured with jealousy. The rest I don't care about. But BrackenI bar. The rest are nothing to you, but Bracken you cared for, and he cared for vou.” All at once his hand, which was trembling with emotion, closed over her arm, and she felt the sharp pinch of his fingers. “Do you understand now? I forbid your coupling your name with Monte Bracken’s. I forbid it!” He had never laid his hand on her. — It was the first time she had seen him completely given over to his passion. Despite herself, she felt her face go red as though. before this revelation of her husband, she had experienced a sudden guilt. A knock broke in on the tension o° the’r attitudes. She drew away hastily. “Well, who is it?” said Mr. Dellabarre, his voice still on the pitch of excitement. ‘Miss Bane, sir.” He glanced at his wife nervously. “Well, why don’t vou come in, then?” The door opened half-way. “Please, madame, Mr. and Mrs. Forrester have just ar- rived. -What shall I do?” Nothing “Well, who is it. Mr. Dellabarre looked to his wife, in utter perplexity. “There is only one thing to do,” she said quietly, seizing the providential opportunity. ‘Mr. Dellabarre will go down and explain about Doris. You will have to send them away somehow.”’ “No, no; we can’t do that,” said Mr. Dellabarre hastily, shrinking at the thought, for once his anger had shot up, it quickly subsided. ‘‘Wait a moment, Miss Bane—wait a mom it—wait a moment outside. It’s annoying, very an- noying, but we can’t send them away.” He began to walk up and down the room in his stiff, per- pendicular way, while Irma watched him from the corner of her eye. All at once he turned, “Well, now what’s to be done, Irma?” he said petulantly, looking to her for assistance. ‘‘ You know we can’t send them away. That is not possible. That isn’t done.” “No; that isn’t done, and other things aren’t done, either,” she said sternly. He fidgeted back and forth, seeking some compromise and finding it difficult. ‘“Aren’t you ashamed of vourself? head and smiling. “Please treat as serious what I’ve said,” he said sul- lenly, his glance traveling along the carpet. “I know very well I can’t make you love me. You never have. Put that aside—ves; put that aside. You can go your way —up to a certain point—but be careful, Irma; be very careful.” For a moment, his eves rose to hers, and the sudden leap of suffering and passion she saw there brought her, for the first time in her easy, superficial existence, a real emotion—a fear, a genuine fear of her husband. ” she said, shaking her VI MEANWHILE, Mrs. Lightbody with Tody Dawson and Jap Laracy, together with the two Miss Teakes, who had returned with them for tea, were amusing themselves in the great baronial sitting-room during the continued absence of their hostess. Dawson and Laracy belonged to that new variety of house- hold pet which supplements the absence of hard-worked husbands in society. A woman of fashion counts from two to ten of the variety in her train, who fetch and carry, run small errands, adore her in a public, harmless way, accom- pany her to the theater or opera, surround her at thés dan- sants, and invent a hundred amusing tricks to save her from the necessity of reading and other forms of boredom. Wise in their generation, they seldom make blunders, knowing that they are admitted to intimacy only on the basis of absolute docility, and, acquiring the knowledge of worldly values, they wait patiently under such patronage the opportunities of what is called a successful marriage. Daw- son and Laracy were unusually gifted. They played in masterly fashion all games of chance where a friendly dollar could be sought. They formed a team which imitated the latest comic-opera favorites. They spoke a jargon of their own. They danced like professional dancers, with really the most remarkable agility, and, from morning to night, kept up a runhing patter of story, anecdote, repartee, and pic- turesque slang which made easy the task of the most des- perate hostess. By the time the Forresters had unpacked and descended, the great living-room had filled up with casual guests, a few of the men in riding-breeches, the women in gaily-colored sweaters and striped skirts. At the charming appearance of Amy on the staircase, there was a sudden hush of curiosity. What the young d’Artagnan experienced at his first intro- duction into the brilliant court of the Hétel de Tréville, Amy Forrester felt at this sudden silence which was like the rolling-up of a curtain. The new world to conquer, her world, lay below. She felt a quickening of all her in- stincts, transforming her into a different and_ public a & 4 4 2 4 * 2 2 | 4 4 | & & | pes ’ By ia 3 ;
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When he had contemplated the delicate slope of her shoulders, the whiteness of the skin, the slender and graceful column of the neck, he said: “I knew it! Not one can touch you. As for Mrs. Challoner, we'll settle her” » ng : FO / — | | of » j 4 y, @ 4 4 } — he ite
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30 Virtuous Wives self. At the same moment, she realized that she was no longer alone but an integral part of the man who followed at her back. Andrew, too, was about to be judged, and by a judgment without the slightest mercy that accepted only what it could not destroy. The thought of her husband threw her into a sudden timidity. In a group of men, who were gathered, glass in hand, at a serving-table, Mrs. Dellabarre was standing with her hand drawn through her husband’s arm, in that punctilious public advertisement of her marital felicity which she never neg- lected and which she used as a whip over the heads of her ad- mirers as a sort of warning of the limitations she imposed on their adoration. She had slipped into a dark skirt and purple sweater, drawn her hair tightly back, contriving to make herself both ugly and distinguished. Gladys Chal- Joner, her dearest rival, had said of her, “When Irma gets herself up like a fright before dinner, she is preparing to dazzle you later.” As she went to meet the Forresters, by the indefinable subtleties with which one woman rates another, Mrs. Della- barre saw that Amy was of her world. She was attracte1 to her instantly, as one woman is attracted to another, with the pleasure of encountering an antagonist worthy to be de- stroved. : ‘**We have met before,” she said, smiling, with a little extra pressure of her hand, “but we are all anxious to meet the man who could carry off the favorite after her first season,” she added, extending her hand to Mr. Forrester. ‘It’s rare enough to make you quite a hero.” “How do vou do, Mrs. Dellabarre.” he said, in his strong. p'easant bass, stepping forward with eagerness in his eves. If she had been agreeably surprised with Amy, she was “Who ever knows?” said Irma. shrugging her shoulders and beginning to brush Mon Amour's silky coat. “Most flirtations are harmless enough” quite unprepared for the strong attraction which Andrew Forrester exercised over her from the moment of their first hand-clasp. Like all neurasthenic natures, she responded instantly to the buoyant health of a dominant vitality. So quick was this pleasant sense of well-being that the easy phrase of welcome passed completely out of her mind, and only the mechanical approach of her husband prevented her showing too plainly her perplexity. Amy had a confused sense of catching names that meant nothing to her, of seeing so many human manikins grouped about her. Mrs. Dellabarre, after graceful introductions, returned to the men, abandoning Amy to the group whose conversation she had interrupted. Three men, without addressing a word to her, finding her young and attractive, stared at her with open admiration. Fortunately, at this moment, from the piano in the living-room a beaming waist- coat and glowing smile bore down on her. ‘Welcome to our city!” exclaimed Laracy. “This is a surprise. Have I got to behave, Amy, and call you ‘Mrs. Forrester?’ ”’ “Get me away from here,”’ she said, shaking hands and laughing. ‘Freezing by the fireside, eh?” said Jap Laracy, with a glance at the group. ‘Pretty Northwest, eh? Irma en- gages me to thaw them out, but it’s tough—it’s tough! My eves and whiskers, Amy, I’m glad to see vou! Have you seen Tody?” Dawson, in perfect health, without a line on his face or a ripple on the perfect edge of his trousers, came up, serene and unembarrassed. “Well, Amy, no use in pretending! Everyone knows you ve blighted my young existence. My heart’s shot to pieces, but I forgive vou.” He rattled this off with light impertinence. Amy looked up at him. “T think you'll recover,” she said, smiling. In a moment, they were laughing over old escapades, unconscious as_ three children. “What are vou three having such a good time about?” said Mrs. Lightbody, approaching jealously. She laid a plump
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Owen Johnson 31 hand on Dawson's arm in an affectionate pressure. “Tody darling, I must get that step before to-night. Jap, be a dear and play for us again.” “My dear Kitty,’ said Dawson coolly, ‘‘be calm—be calm—and haven’t I told you never to show jealousy when I am paying attention to a pretty woman?” Amy listened in astonish- ment, while Mrs. Lightbody, vastly amused at this style of wit, laughed outright. “You funny boy. She hesitated. “Mrs. Kezzizzas,” said Laracy solemnly. Mrs. Lightbody bit her lip but, determined, she appealed to'Amy. “You don’t mind, do you?” “Say you do,” said Daw- son. “Weare trying to bring Kitty up properly. She has the most shocking manners.” “Am I rude?” said Mrs. Lightbody, rolling her eyes. “Oh, no— I am the intru- der here,”’ said Mrs. Forrester quietly. Mrs. Lightbody, having con- trived to isolate her (though without malice, for her bad manners were natural), carried Dawson off in triumph. Amy remained with her back to the group by the fireplace, uncomfortable and an- gry, somewhat consoled by the spectacle of Mrs. Lightbody’s floundering efforts. She took a cup of tea from the butler who came up, and stood watching the swaying figures. A group formed about the surface of light, the men curious, the women solemn, confronted with a new responsibility, while those whose figures inclined to plumpness studied the effect of Mrs. Lightbody’s movements with personal solicitude. ‘So that’s what they’ve made of the tango!” said a voice at her shoulder—a modulated voice, curiously flexible and soft. ‘What contortions!” “Why, I think he dances very well.” “Dawson? Of course. His trained legs are irreproach- able. But it’s not the tango. The real one is stately— danced with dignity.” “ But that’s the way we were taught.”’ She turned and all at once perceived that she had been talking to a stranger. At the same moment, he perceived his mistake. “I beg your pardon, I thought——” “So did I,” she said smiling. Then perceiving how inti- mate had been their comprehension of the unfinished thought, she blushed. “ After all,” he said easily, “there is no great harm done. If vou are a very punctilious person, I’ll have Mrs. Della- barre present me.” Instinctively she divined who he was, by the ease of his manner and the foreign deference of his attitude. He was ~tll in riding-clothes of brown, which harmonized with the rather Spanish tan of his face. You are not Montgomery Bracken by any chance?” she ~aid impulsively. “Yes. How did you “T don’t know. I guessed it.” Then, realizing how Mrs—”’ strange this must sound, she biushed again. To cover her «embarrassment, she said rapidly, ‘My cousin, Miss Nord- strum, has described you to me.” Fifi’s declared intention, she laughed. He read the amusement in her eyes rightly. “Is my scalp in danger?” he said. . “Fifi is a very determined young lady. Then you are Mrs. Forrester, of course. Is your husband here? Won’t you in- troduce me?” Before she could act on the tact- ful suggestion which relieved the embarrassment of the situation, Dawson was back at her side, beg- ging her to dance with him. Then, remembering “That's my expression, my dear. Crocodiles are ad- mirers who want to look very dangerous but can't move quickly enough to catch you™ “Come on, Amy, now; let’s give them a professional exhibition. “Kitty is gasping for breath. Hello, Monte!” “How are you, Dawson?” She hesitated, watching Bracken with a little amused malice, divining his impatience at the assurance of the new generation. Tody had her by the hand, dragging her toward the open floor with that muscular enthusiasm which has replaced man’s deference to woman in modern ball- rooms. To refuse was awkward, and, besides, she had a score to settle with Mrs. Lightbody. “Here's how it’s done!” announced Dawson, with the disdain of a virtuoso. She danced instinctively, pliant to her partner, so light that her flitting steps seemed noiseless, with a harmony of poise and movement that charmed the eye, the delight a beautiful child awakens in its graceful (Continued on page 156) | \ ' d a e t > Ss a @ y a J j i MB: e oy 4 fl FO —— ~ q i
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A Hunting Adventure in the Grand Canon By Rex Beach Mr. Beach and his brother-in-law, Fred Stone, the noted comedian, having convinced them- selves that huntinz the mountain-lion was rather a mild sort of adventure, set out in joyful anticipation for the north side of the Grand Canon of the Colorado, where the animal exists in large numbers. Here is the ac- count of what happened to them. The illustrations, unless otherwisé stated, were taken by the camera-man of the party especially for this narrative. MOVING picture was responsible for the trip. Photographically, the picture was nothing to brag about, but it had a punch, for it showed a certain Mr. “Buffalo” Jones engaged in the flickery pastime of roping moun- The hunting party setting out i stories from untruthful guides, s¢ and we considered the animals big de game, but we had never met one Cé in the flesh south of the Bronx. In consequence, we were for some time at a loss just where to go cougar- hunting. Butonedaywemetand th held converse with Ambrose Means, a western cow-gentleman, is bronco-buster,and showman. Mr. th Means had been a member of two ‘ African expeditions, had roped of 3 wild lions, rhinoceroses, water- wi buffaloes, wart-hogs, and such be other veldt animals as are pos- Going over the rim of the Grand Canon tain-lions. Fred Stone and I saw the picture and heard Mr. Jones’ explanatory lecture regarding it at the Sports- man’s Show. When the lecturer assured us that, despite the lion’s apparent ferocity, he is in reality a timid, craven creature, and when he backed up this assertion by substantial celluloid proof, we, Fred and I, decided that here was a mild sort of adventure, well calculated to appeal to a couple of nervous sportsmen like us. Like most hunters, we had heard shuddery cougar The cowardly cougar, or mountain-lion 4 . 4 A a
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for the home of the cougar sessed of legs, horns, humps, warts, and other physical deformities or facial blemishes over which he could cast a loop. At the time of our meeting, he was engaged, for hire, in the business of leading tenderfeet into the wilds of Arizona and guiding them out, and he assured us that a kindly fate had sent us to him. When we con- fessed our burning desire to sit for our portraits with ° as many cougars as could be assembled, he declared that he was the very man to ease our pain. ‘I’m your huckleberry!”’ said he. ‘The north side of the Grand Cafion, where I hunt, is all littered up‘ with lions. They're a public nuisance, or they would le if there was any public, which there ain’t. Uncle Jim Owen, my pardner, has been a government hunter, und has killed over six hundred himself right there. He was with Jones when he got those pictures; he had Roosevelt once. He Owns the best lion-dogs in the country, and him and I will give you a trip you'll remember.” Looking Mr. Means squarely in the eye, I said ignificantly: “We want to remember the trip, but we want to remember it pleasantly. What sort of a trip will it be?”’ Easy—a perfect cinch.” “Any danger?” “Not a bit. Why, you can take your wives along.” Now Mr. Means had never met our respective families, ‘hich thus explains his overenthusiastic statement. There was a time,” I cautioned him, “ when work didn’t ‘ome hard enough to suit me, when a certain sense of personal peril gave me a pleasurable thrill, when I could dance all night in rubber boots and a mackinaw coat and never turn a hair. But city life softens a man. The time «= come when I shudder at a callus. I jump through a |) a'c-glass window when a car back-fires, and a single fox- The first night's camping-place Rex Beach (right) and Fred Stone, attired for the hunt of the mountain-lion trot leaves me panting like a lizard. 1 have outlived hard- j ships; I loathe exposure; I love hammocks, rich food, and : debilitating luxuries-———” “The grub will be fine—leave that to me,’ Mr. Means broke in, but I checked him, saying: “Understand, Fred is an actor, and therefore he owes it to himself to safeguard his personal appearance. For in- stance, if a lion should bite, hook, or kick him in the face, he'd have to play the part of a German duelist, and, under 3 1 he j da : * h | 4 b bd
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34 On the Trail of the Cowardly Cougar present conditions, such a réle couldn't be made sym- pathetic. What I would like to be perfectly certain of, be- fore we go further <4 “Why, a cougar is scared of his own shadow,” Ambrose said positively. “Of course, if one licked your hand, it’d scratch, because his tongue’s rough. But they’re gentle as dogs—they got good hearts—and this trip is just what vou boys need. It'll rest you and tone you up. You bring a camera and an operator, and I'll attend to the other eager to enter, and so, after a deal of discussion, it was arranged that I should go along as a sort of protective measure. Even then, Ambrose was not altogether easy in his mind, for he said: “T’ve seen fellers miss ’em cold. There won't be no time to pin a target on the lion’s chest, you understand. If you shoot one of us, he’ll get away.” ‘Spoil the picture, too,” Fred declared. I agreed that the point was well taken; then I argued, reasonably enough, that if I became so nervous Looking up the Grand Canon from the edge above Bass’s Ferry arrangements. We'll sure have one time! And we'll rope cougars till we’re plumb tired.” Here, at the start, arose a question. Fred, of course, is an expert roper—he can eat noodles with a lariat—and Means had demonstrated his ability to rope, throw, and hog-tie anything from a horned toad to a tornado. But as for me, I am no loop-hound—I couldn’t rope a stack o‘ elk-horns—hence the problem was just how and where I fitted into the expedition. “T'll tell you what,’’ Ambrose finally suggested, “Fred and I'll do the roping, and you can be the gunman. Of course, a cougar is a coward and a quitter all right, but if I go up a tree to tie a hemp four-in-hand under his chin, I want to be able to look down into the face of a friend with thirty-thirty.” Fred allowed that such would doubtless be his own feel- ings under similar circumstances. He declared, too, that the presence of an armed escort would probably quiet the camera-man’s nerves. Camera-men are notorious cowards, so he said. I was prompt in my statement that if this enterprise threatened to become a competition in cowardice, I was as to miss the cougar entirely, I would doubtless miss either or both of the ropers as well, and no harm would be done. If, on the other hand, but one man climbed the tree, instead of two, that in PHOTOGRAPH KY KOLB BROS. The Grand Cation with the North Wall. the home of the cougar, in the far distance a a = 4 £ i a \ \ 4 | | ~ } | Aon ‘ 4 Qo: Fey oft | HOTOGRAPH BY KOLE BROS, 4 r ra a | 3 5 ~ a 3 4 if
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Bass's Ferry working the car by wind- lass across the Colorado River itself would reduce the risk fifty per cent.—a simple problem in subtraction. Anyhow, I asserted, people who capture wild animals should expect to run some risks. So much, then, for the why and the wherefore of this expedition, the detail, the disappointment, and the drama of which I have set out to narrate in a simple, conser- vative, and shameless fashion. Ambrose met us on the date set when we stepped off the train at Grand Canon, Arizona, and, for our part, we displayed to him a camera-man who, we had been assured, would stand without being hitched. This camera-man had never taken any wild-animal pictures; he had never been west of Newark in fact, but he had recently photographed several ‘‘ movie” serials with fa- mous female stars, and he looked forward with relief to ‘meeting a cougar. In addition to him, our party had The horse kicked himself free of the bars, slid head first out of the cage. and hanged himself high in mid-air ia! i a 35
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grown to include Fred’s brother and a tired - business man from Chi- Dragging a pack-horse out of Shinumo Creek, cago, both of whom had come with the aid of two other horses along to see if we were really in earnest. As a matter of fact, I was not. I had no more intention of roping a lion than had they, it being my desire to act purely in the capacity of a dis- passionate witness. Like- wise, I had my doubts about Fred. “We can’t cross here, like I planned,” Ambrose announced. ‘There's too much water in Bright An- gel Creek, so we'll go down the Bass Trail, twenty- five miles west. Uncle Jim’s waiting on the other side with the dogs. Now then, shed vour parade clothes and get into some- thing decent. I’m rarin’ to go.” None of our party had seen the Grand Spasm of the Colorado. We had heard it highly spoken of, to be sure, but not until we strolled out in front of the El Tovar, and the thing hit us in the eye, did we begin to appreciate what sort of a job we had put upon our- PHOTOGRAPH RY BROS, ani The fine forest country north of the Grand Canon alt last LOO the devoid of even the simplest comforts. ‘To anyone ac- selves—what it means to cross that customed to mountains peo amazing rift in the earth’s surface. that stick up, there is some- SCE Without any exaggerated attempt at thing odd, something dis- Brig praise, without any hysterical effort to tressingly unusual Trai eulogize, I may say that it issome chasm, about looking down as tl and we thought well of it. As chasms upon a whole system & dec« go, its a bear. Personally, I don't like of towering peaks. and chasms—they’re hollow and they're unsafe. Those mountains you & asce In looking at a landscape, I prefer to see see below yourfeetare #7 space occupied by tangible scenery of some good sizable moun- ate sort; here was an appalling nothingness, a tains and nothing to @ isa complete minus of everything except air, beashamed of—infact @ and and one had to look too far down, too far we'd be proud toclaim = & wii! across, to see anything. Nor do I wish to them in the East, just cred appear hypercritical, a fault common to so to show up some of our a go many New Yorkers, but honesty compels me old favorites—but Ari- hun to say there is nothing in the least home!ike or zona hides them away riag cosy about the Grand Cajion and it 1s utterly in a hole! And clifis! ( 3 4 a a 4 ¢ ‘ ‘ ¥ =
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Rex Beach 37 You can look in every direction and see any number of fine, imposing cliffs wasted. It is criminal extravagance, and something should be done about it. Facing us, from twelve to twenty miles distant as the crow would fly, if he had the nerve to tackle such a flight, stood the North Wall, our destination and the home of the cowardly cougar we had come to humiliate. It appeared to be a level mesa, somewhat higher than the seven-thou- sand-foot plateau where we were. That mesa deserves a word of description, for although vast numbers of tourists annually gaze upon it, although last year a good) many thousand people de- scended Bright Angel Trail as far as the river, very few in- deed have gone beyond and essayved the difficult ascent of the other side. country immedi- ately northof the Cafion Is a veritable wilderness and ts inaccessible as any you will be likely to find. It is cov- cred by a magnificent forest and government restriction against hunting, trapping, plural mar- "ages, and other primitive pas- Dinner at the first camping-place. It was hot; there was sand in the butter times, all of which are more or less honored in the breach, especially by local Mormons. It is guarded from trespassers on the south by the titanic mile-deep void, formed as a con- sequence of the unprecedented behavior of the Colorado River. The river itself, by the way, is crossable in a length of over two hundred miles in but two places, and there only by the assistance of s!ender wire cables, totally unsuited to the average nervous temperament; hence there isn’t much crowding from this direction. Toward the north, one may travel some hundreds of miles before striking a railroad; and to the east and west there is a lot of unimproved, vacant property, peopled mainly by tribes of warlike North American aborigines engaged in the manufacture of baskets, blankets, beadwork, pre- historic pottery for Fred Harvey’s line of curio stores. Fright- ful tales are told of Indian atrocities in these parts, and I know they are true, for I bought several. This north bank of the Cafion is in reality the back-bone of the Buckskins—moun- tains which are aptly named, for every abo- rigine with whom I dickered for a genuine Hartford, Con- necticut, (Continued on page 119) ( a ‘ ~ 4. ¥ : > . ; ‘mys n by! o & SP r - s!
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~ The Other Lobster By Gouverneur Morris Illustrated by James Montgomery Flagg HE Alsops and some of their guests sat on the steps of the sun-parlor (with their backs to the gentle reader) and smoked cigarettes and looked at the moon. The moon hung midway between two formal plantings of evergreens, as the architect had intended, and made 2 path of silver across the expanse of salt water which they had_ been pianted to frame. From the water came a sound of oars moving lazily in oar-locks, and then a solid bump as of a dory running head on into a padded float. Then there was silence. And then there came snatches of song. The singer’s voice had passed its prime, but retained,amid the quav- erings of age, a kind of sweet, deep-sea solidity. The tune must have been Irish once, and the words themselves smacked of immigration. “Where is he going when he leave here?” here?”’ In Nantucket city, 99 “Paris. Where the girls are so pretty, *Twas there my sweet Almy I first got to know. Through the streets broad and narrow, She wheeled a wheelbarrow, Crying: “Lobsters, voung lobsters, alive, alive-o! “Alive, alive-o! “Alive, alive-o!” Crying, “Lobsters, young lobsters, alive, alive-o!” nia is on the way to Manila. Paris doesn’t} listen good to me.” son sharply over the knuckles. ” ‘“There’s only one possible excuse for you, she said. ‘Are you in love with her?” To the reader, this song will undoubtedly suggest “Well, not before lunch,” admitted Blair a romance between the singer and sweet \lmy. To the junior. “But toward sunset I find Mrs. Jordan perfectly Alsops, however, who were used to it, it suggested what ii fascinating. During the evening, she grows more and more | was meant to suggest—lobsters. beautiful. But she always goes to bed by eleven o’clock | “It’s old Storm,” said Blair Alsop junior. “‘He’s made a —ouch?’ good haul. You can tell by the way he sings. Father, He put his knuckles in his mouth and grinned. hadn't we better corral some of those young lobsters, “Be nice,’ said his mother. “Do it now! First, kiss march them into the kitchen, and have supper?” me, and then run along and give Kitty Cabot a good time.” | Blair Alsop senior, who was a Roosevelt man, simply “You come, too.” : rose, clapped his hands together, and said: “It would kill me, my dear. I am wearing a brand-new) “Bully! Bully!” pair of slippers.” And then Blair junior cried, And she remained alone, looking at the moon. “Come along, people; never mind if the grass is wet!” But Mrs. Alsop caught him by the arm and retained him. I When the others were out of hearing, Blair junior smiled in her face and said, “Thar vou, Eric? You might have let Sydney pack for ‘Is it something you see, mother, or something you smell?” you.”’ “It has nothing to do with your habits. It’s your man- “I’m too used to doing it myself. Where is everybody? ners.” “Gone to buy fresh-caught lobsters.” “Well, Eric Windham isn’t my guest—he’s yours.” “Supper to-night?” out of the way.” ig “It matters a great deal to me. I don't want 7 “Eric is going away to-morrow. Don’t spoil his last evening. Keep bd ’ ‘Manila.’ a “Where is she going when she leaves “She belongs in California. Califor- 7 With her folded fan, Mrs. Alsop rapped her 7 | VAN = IAW Noo WN \ to | Y \/ the \ 7, YY and
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¢ k fork dy?” \\ iat 4, to be a drag on anyone—least of all on you” He spoke with the eagerness of a smal boy, and she laughed. Then she motioned him to a seat beside her. “Suppose,” she said, “I arrange a little supper for two and have it sent out here? Oh, not for you and me—for vou and some one else!” : She rose briskly, like a girl in her teens, and descended the two broad steps to the turf. “But,” he protested, “the grass is sopping wet, and you can't walk in those tiny slippers.”’ “Tiny? I like that! My feet literally rattle around in them.” Let me go for you.” “If you will take an old woman's advice, you will siay jiere.”’ All by myself?” “All by vourself.” ’ “I appeal to vour better feelings. , Don’t torment me.”’ “She went up-stairs to write a note.” ric Windham gazed rapturously toward the upper stories of the house. Mrs. Alsop laughed. “Now, don’t,” she pleaded, “say that you can almost hear her licking the stamp. Because you can’t.” The young man sighed. ; _ “How am I ever going to thank you for all you've done lor me?” “Has it come to thanks already?” she asked, with all the eagerness of a born match-maker. _ “Not completely,” he admitted; “but it’s been so wonder- ful! The tennis, and the rides, and the swims, and the roses and the moon, and seeing her every day, and having a Cnance to tell her how wonderful she is and how good and beautiful!” “Well, you invite her to have supper with you. Tell her how vood and beautiful the lobsters are going to be. My <lcar.” Mrs, Alsop continued, smiling, “your mother was my JAWES WONTE FACE 39 dearest friend. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you. But mar- riage is a terribly serious thing. It’s a strong food. Very few peo- ple are able to digest it. Love isn’t everything. There’s money.” Windham took a good look at the moon before he answered; then, with considerable emotion in '- his voice, he exclaimed: “Oh, it makes me feel like a dog when I think how much money she has and how very little I have! But vou know it isn’t her money, don’t you? I love her in spite of her money. I wish she didn’t have a red cent!” “Well,” said Mrs. Alsop dryly, “it’s ridiculously easy to get rid of money if you find it’s a nui- sance. But you can cross that bridge when you come to it.” “Why, what do you mean?” “You won't find out from me.” “She hasn’t had a financial disaster or anything like that?” “She—weil—not yet. And here she is!”’ Mrs. Alsop hurried softly away in the moonlight. LL Y Y Vf Ill Mrs. JorDAN pushed open the French window and strolled into the sun-parlor. Windham, his lips parted as if in wonder, neither moved nor spoke. He just stood still and looked at her. She smiled her easy, friendly smile and said, “Where's everybody?” “Oh,” cried Windham, ‘“‘does it matter?” “It doesn’t matter—if they stay there.” At that encouragement, the young man sprang toward her, lifted his hands toward her, and came to an abrupt and confused pause. “Are you w-warm enough?” he stammered. “Quite,” said Mrs. Jordan dryly. “Because,” said Windham, still confused but in great earnest, “we're to have supper out here. Just you and I. I invite you. G-God has arranged the whole thing. But I issue the invitation.” “But we only finished dinner an hour ago.” “You say that because you are a Californian. Don’t you know that every free-born American has always room at all times for one broiled live lobster? And, besides, supper won't be ready until—supper-time. Don’t you know, you poor, beautiful, ignorant Californian, that you can’t hurry a lobster into a kitchen? You can’t hustle him. You’ve got to persuade him to walk in. If you carry him in on a shutter, he'll turn round and round and husile you. He's just the opposite of a good Indian. The only good lobster is a live lobster.” She looked at him with amusement and affection. He rattled on. “I’m crazy about your dress, even if it is pink. The lobsters will swear at it; but don’t you care. I know I’m talking like a crazy idiot, but there’s so much to say. It’s my last chance to be with you. This is our last evening together.” “Then, of course,’ cried Mrs. Jordan, “I'll stay to supper!” “Bless you!” he cried. ‘You are an angel! We— we'll look at the moon and eat our last lobster together and——”’ ie | im AS WS \ cep her lock kiss
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40 The Other Lobster “But I think I ought to have something to put round my shoulders.” Windham sprang to the bell-push at one side of the French window. “But I won’t leave you to get it,” he explained, “or allow you to leave me. Every minute is precious—and so are you.” “Eric,” she said, ‘sometimes I actually believe that vou are in love with me.” “Do you see that moon up there?” cried Windham. She looked at the moon—with the usual results. And it was at this exact moment that Hawke, the butler, arrived in answer to the bell, and cleared his throat. Windham faced about and made a desperate effort not to look like a man who has just been caught with his arm round a pretty woman's waist and his cheek pressed against hers. He failed, and added to his failure by stammering, “Hawke, Mrs. Jordan is c-c-cold.” Hawke had his doubts, but his expression did not change. Mrs. Jordan attempted to save the situation. “T rang,” she said coolly, “for a cloak; but I fancy I shan’t need it.” Hawke choked a “Very good, madam” and_ turned hastily on his heel in an anguish of suppressed laughter. In the center of the sun-parlor was a circular Italian table of carved stone. Across this table, two chairs faced each other. To one of these, pink with laughter and embar- rassment, Mrs. Jordan drifted and into it sank. “You,” she said, “had better sit over there.” Windham, obedient but protesting, sat down on the chair opposite. For a few moments they gazed at each other in silence. Then Windham said, -“T can’t live without you.” “Perhaps,” she answered gently, won’t have to.” Windham started from his chair as if he had been shot, but on a gesture from Mrs. Jordan sank back. “A widow,” she said, “isn’t the only thing that I am. I am also an orphan. There's nobody to look after me.” “That needn't be true!” “And so, in a sense, I have to be my own father and mother. A moment ago, when you were going to kiss me for the second time—you were, you know!—TI said to myself, speaking for myself: ‘Good! I like it.” But as my father and mother, speaking /o myself, I said, ‘No, Dolly; wait a bit.’” Windham laid a thin platinum watch face upward on the table. “Did your parents mention any exact time-limit?” “The person vou are now talking to,” she said demurely, “js my father. You will imagine that having on sundry occasions observed your attentions to his daughter, and hers to vou (for that matter and in order to be strictly honest), he has just asked you your intentions.” Windham rose and leaned forward,resting his knuckles on the table. “Quite right, sir,” he said. ‘Of course you would want to know. I love your daughter with all my heart, and I think she likes me, and I want to marry her, and——” “One moment—Dolly has confessed that she cares for you.” “O my God!” cried Windham. “Won't vou sit down?” He reseated himself, trembling. : “We will grant, then,” she continued, “that you think you care for each other. Now, I need not point out to you, Mr. Windham, that the modern young woman is a recklessly extravagant brute. Are you able to support a wife?” “T have ten thousand a vear.”’ “T didn’t ask vou if you would be able to feed the chickens; I asked you if you were able to support a wile.” “IT have a very rich uncle. I am his only nephew. Un- fortunately, he is two years younger than I am———”’ “You are on your way to Manila?” “To grow hemp. There’s millions in it.” “Dolly wouldn’t like to live in Manila.” “Then,” said Windham wildly, “I'll grow the hemp in Newport or Palm Beach.” “You have ten thousand a year. You are twenty-six vears old. I am twenty-two.” “Then your daughter Dolly must still be in the cradle.” “T forgot which I was. Well, Dolly has a little money of her own.” “T know that.” “You know nothing about it. Between vou, if you were wise and really loved each other, you might have enough to live on. Have you any bad habits?” “Yes,” confessed Windham; “I have. When there’s going to be a thunder-storm, I itch all over, and when 1 have a cold in my head, I sleep on my back, and when I was little I used to bite my nails, but mother sewed up the sleeves of my pajamas.” “Do you smoke?” “Well, not every minuie,’ he protested, with an air of superiority, ‘‘the way some people do!” “Do you drink?” “Only when I’m unhappy, or when I feel as if I might be going to be unhappy.” There was a short pause, and she then addressed him a question with real seriousness. “Ts there any reason why you shouldn’t marry my daughter?” “Why, no,” he said, with even greater seriousness; “there is no reason.” Then, across the table, she gave him both her hands to hold. A sudden blending of male and female voices rose in the moonlight and came nearer and nearer. In Nantucket City, Where the girls are so pretty, ’Twas there my sweet Almy I first got to know. Through the streets broad and narrow, She wheeled a wheelbarrow, Crying: ‘Lobsters, young lobsters, alive, alive-o! “Alive, alive-o! ““Alive, alive-o!” Crying, ‘‘Lobsters, young lobsters, alive, alive-o!” As the Alsops and their guests rounded the corner of the house, Eric Windham released Mrs. Jordan’s hands and rose to his feet. Under his breath he murmured resentfully, “The lobsters!” . “Oho,” cried Blair Alsop senior, ‘‘we're going to have the finest supper vou ever ate! In all my born days, I never saw a cleaner, evener lot of lobsters. There’s not a one under six inches, and there’s not a one over seven. If you'll believe me, Mrs. Jordan, they were lively as kittens— really engaging and playful. We escorted them to the kitchen door. Old Storm carried them in a basket, and we followed, two and two, singing. Do you mean to say you didn’t hear us? We sang the trio from Chopin’s funeral march. Then, to be sure they were still alive, Storm let them out of the basket and we made them walk by them- selves into the kitchen. Didn't vou hear us singing the ‘Miserere’?”’ But, at this point, Blair junior interrupted his loquacious parent. “They'll be putting them into the boiling water,” he said. ‘Don’t you think Kitty and I had better go into the music-room and play the ‘Danse Macabre’?” Windham laughed perfunctorily. Mrs. Jordan laughed in the same way. Mrs. Alsop came to their rescue. “T think,” said she, “‘we’d all better go into the house. There’s a chill out here.” “Tt isn’t a chill,” said Blair junior; ‘‘it’s an awkward silence. Come, Kitty; we know who wants us and who doesn’t.” But Alsop and his wife lingered, Alsop perplexed. “Aren't we all going to have supper out here?” 4 | | =| | | | \ | | + pe ip w N \ \¢ \W
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“Vou never listen,” said his wife. “T don’t have to. I’m a corporation lawyer. What’s wrong with every- body having supper out here?” Mrs. Jordan came for- ward, smiling, and took one of her host’s big red hands in both hers. “Dear Mr. Alsop,” she said, “it’s our last night together Eric’s and mine. Mrs. Alsop said we could have our supper together out here—just we two.” Alsop looked rapidly from one tothe other. His face beamed. “Why,” he cried, “it’s the nicest thing I ever heard of! My dear children—bless you—bless you!. Is it a secret? No? Then I may tell the others.” And he rushed off, partly because he was embarrassed and partly because he loved to be the one who makes exciting announcements. “Tm going, too, my dear,” said Mrs. Alsop, “in just a moment. I’m sorry they all came down on vou like this; but I couldn’t make them understand. My dear, I am so glad—so—so “Dear Mrs. Alsop,” said Mrs. Jordan, ‘you are white as a sheet.” “It’s my slippers,’’ groaned Mrs. Alsop, and she turned and limped gallantly toward the French window, waving a hand in adieu and in benediction. JAMES MOMTCHERY IV Once more they faced each other across the Italian table. But the table had changed. It was spread with a Jinen cloth. It was set with silver and cut glass. At Mrs. Jordan’s right was a cocktail-glass, containing an olive-stone. A similar glass containing a similar well-nibbled trophy was at Wind- ham’s left. Near the toe of his right boot was a massive Sheffield-plate cooler. In the midst of this was a bottle, tip- sily tilted, and supported by cracked ice and salt. A small napkin had been thrown over the mouth of the bottle, just as you hide the face of a person who is having fits. Aid the bottle, as a matter of fact, was foaming at the mouth. In front of Windham, handy to serve from, was a large platter red with lobsters. ; 12 “Why,” he cried, “it’s the nicest thing I ever heard of! —bless you—bless you!” My dear children “Eric,” said Mrs. Jordan, ‘when I told you about Dolly @ —I mean me—onlvy having a little monev of her own, I & told the truth.” ‘**Good!”’ pagne, vintage of that matter! “Good! That’s fine! said Windham, relishing a mouthful of cham- | What does “Tt matters a great deal tome. I don’t want to bea drag | on anyone—least of all on you.” “Tf I had known that you were poor, Dolly, I’d have | But they told me you were as rich as Croesus, and that scared me so that I didn’t propose until I just couldn’t help it. What were they driving | I bet it was © proposed the first time I saw you. at, anyway? And to frighten me like that! that young Blair Alsop!” “It was true. It is true. But the irony of it is that it won't be true. You've never asked me about my & marriage “T never shall. All I want to be sure of is that your husband is still dead!” “Eric,” said Mrs. Jordan, ‘‘I married him for his money.” “What ought I to say?” “T was very young.” she went on; “I’m only twenty-two now. I was very vain and foolish and ignorant. I was jealous of girls who had horses and automobiles and all the clothes they wanted. He was old enough to have been my father. He was rolling in money. And, one night, I was wearing the only new dress I could have for months, and a footman spilled claret soup on it, and in my despair— literally in my despair, Eric—I made up my mind that I would marry Jordan—‘Old Man’ Jordan, they called him.” Windham poured champagne into her glass, and then he pointed at the moon: “What,” said he, “has this to do with that?” “T was coming to that,” said Mrs. Jordan. ‘To our honeymoon Windham frowned as if something was hurting him. “Don’t come to that,” he said. ‘Please don’t!” “T must,” she said. ‘‘We were to spend our honeymoon at Monterey. There was a special train waiting. We arrived in. time for dinner. Jordan was very particular about food. We dined at the club-house, and then we went for a spin round the seventeen-mile drive—moonlight, just like this, and cedar trees more beautiful. than these, and the ocean—but, oh, Eric, what a difference! I wished myself dead—dead! On the way back to the hotel "7 The young man interrupted her almost angrily. “Tt’s all past and done with!” he cried. “I don’t want to hear any more.” She liked his show of anger, and almost ina whisper she said: “But vou do want to hear more— (Continued on page 108) t} he me his Pil
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our Loved Much By Edith Macvane Illustrated by George Gibbs N the lounge of the Balcarres, the fashionable apart- ment-hotel on East Sixty-first Street, three men sat sipping their dry Martinis. McGrew said, “I’m three thousand in to-day—building-property out in Brooklyn that I’d never even hoped to get rid of.” “And I’m a thousand out,” returned Brundidge. He was a tall, dark, melancholy-looking man, the millionaire proprietor of the Balcarres and a chain of other prosperous hotels. He set his glass down on the table beside him; then he added: ‘My brother Charley out in Jersey—the best ever! It was he that helped give me my start—only, he hasn’t been lucky, like me. And now, if he hasn’t gone and got appendicitis—a bad case. They're to operate on him at eight o'clock. His wife is to call me up at ten, to tell me how he’s stood it.” His preoccupation was evident. The third member of the group, Wetmore, a large, powerful-looking man with a bulldog jaw, nodded agreement. “T know,” he said. ‘Operations are nasty things. Why, I remember when my wife—” He was off. On the flood ol detailed reminiscence, the voice of a daintily uniformed perlor-maid suddenly. broke. “1 beg your pardon, sir. But Mrs. Brundidge has tele- phoned she and the other ladies are detained at the meeting and for the gentlemen not to wait dinner for them.”’ Brundidge surveyed the speaker sharply. Though for the Balcarres, as for his other hotels, he now left all practi- cal details in the hands of an efficient manager, still his highly trained eye kept its habit of observation. “You're new?” he asked the girl abruptly. “Tm the noo maid for suites Twelve, Fourteen, and Fifteen,” she replied. ae | shoudl think a fellow who had made three thousand dollars might find somebody to announce it to when he comes home!" “Tt was Callie who waited on Mrs. Brundidge lately,” returned Brundidge, with a frown. ‘‘Has Mr. Page shifted her?” The girl flushed. “Did—didn’t you know, sir?” she stammered. ‘Cal- lie’s in trouble—that is, she’s not well. That is, Mr. Page has decided to send her off — Brundidge dismissed the maid with a curt nod. “That'll do. T'll hear about it from Mr. Page. Well, shall we go into dinner without the girls?’ And he turned, with a kind of forced jocularity, to the other two men. Wetmore scowled. “See here: I don’t know what vou fellows think, but this is the third time this week that my wife’s left me to dine alone. Of course, I know a mere man doesn’t count for much beside the great game of woman's suffrage.. But still, when a chap has been grinding away at the same old job all day, he does like a trifle of attention paid him when he comes home.in the evening.” McGrew, whose sharp little face was darkened by brood- ing anger, broke out in a sudden sputter. “T should think a fellow who had made three thousand dollars might find somebody to announce it to when he comes home!” “Call this ‘home’?” returned Brundidge, with a tinge of bitterness, as he waved his hand to indicate the harmonious, impersonal luxury of the long room where they sat. “Well, it’s your hotel,” returned little McGraw belliger- ently. “It’s you, and other fellows like you, who, by 43 “ea if 4 j on f — » yu tm. ng A as ny ur of VC & as he @ nv & Jas 1 a tig he Wee lar rent cht, ese, | a hed rant aid: 708) =
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44 supplying these ‘luxurious modern caravansaries,’ as you call ’em, have let the rest of us in for this kind of life.” “T never planned to live in them myself,” returned Prundidge gloomily, as he rose to his feet. ; “Then why do you?” growled Wetmore. “For the same reason that the rest of vou do—because my wife finds it too much trouble to keep house.” “And if we struck at going down to the office in the morning!”” snapped McGrew. He had returned home highly elated with his three thousand dollars, end was correspondingly cast down at not having the chance to announce his success to his pretty, young wife. Then he added savagely: “If the women strike at their job, why shouldn’t the men strike at theirs? What right have they to expect us to maintain a home if they don’t give us a home to maintain?” “You two fellows come over to my table,” sug- gested Brundidge, as they entered the brightly lighted, grav-and-gold dining-room. At the glitter- ing, flower-decked little tables, innumerable groups of faultlessly attired diners had already begun their meal. In response to a brief command from Brundidge, a waiter set a third place at their table. The three men seated themselves in si- lence. The missing feminine pres- ences brooded with a depressing influence over the group. Not one of them but had on frequent occasions tele- p*oned his wife that busi- ness detained him at the office, and had then gone on his way rejoicing. But when the day's weariness and the homing instinct had brought him back to the nest to find that the hen had flown, the male sense of justice in each one was outraged, his senti- ments were bruised. The oyster cocktails were con- sumed in silence. Then McGrew began again abruptly: “And it’s suffrage meeting they're at. Wo- men’s rights! Good Lord, what more do they want? And what'll be left for us when thev have it?’ No response was forth- coming. The conversation dragged. Suddenly, Mc- Grew broke out peevishly: * This noise of forks! This eat- ing always to the racket of two hundred-odd other forks, tink-a- linking against their plates! That’s what I hoped to get away from when I married. But—’ He stopped short,as though afraid tosay too much. Wetmore uttered a short latigh. “Then why don’t you?” “For the same reason that you don’t,” returned McGrew defiantly. true,” complained Wetmore, “this hotel life is too confoundedly perfect. It gets on one’s nerves. It’s all managed by experts. It’s they that are the bosses—not me. Hang it, a man sometimes wants to run his own shack for himself, doesn’t he? To whistle around the house in his shirt-sleeves with a hammer and a pocket full of nails, and knock up handy shelves for the kids to keep their skates and things on——” lor She Loved Much “The kids!” McGrew interrupted grufily. “Gosh— it reconciles a man to not having any of his own when he looks at a sight like that.’ And he indicated a juvenile dinner-party at a near-by table—the mincing, self-con- scious airs of the girls, the affected swagger of the little imitation men who were their escorts. Wetmore, a heavy, slow-moving, slow-speaking man, placed his two elbows on the table and ruminated as it were aloud. “Here they are, our three good old scouts!” cried a clear, table, were suddenly enveloped by the fluttering, “Well, what are you going to do about it?) A man wants his sons, doesn’t he? To deny the basic fact of children is to deny life itself. And if you don’t want to bring them up in hotels, what'll you do about it? The women don’t want to keep house.” “Well, they don't want to have children, either; so that high-t glitter you fourt nurse at nil dad. and = \ ie his ( ) a 4 3 1 t i 2. — |
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Edith Macvane 45 problem is s-ttled even before it’s proposed,” rapped out Me Grew sharply. As a matter of fact, the marriages of all three men were childless, though McGrew had been mar- ried three years, the others ten and fifteen. Brundidge, who had remained almost silent at table, raised his handsome, rather melancholy head, and said slowly: “My brother Charley out at Nutley—he that’s being operated on now—he has three of the nicest young ones And the three men, rising from the glittering. perfumed aureole of feminine presences high-toned voice. you ever saw. There’s the oldest, Florrie, who’s just lourteen—she’s a regular little corker. Until the trained nurse came, she’s taken turns with her mother, sitting up at night with her father—she’s regularly crazy about her dad. And now these last two days that he’s S got so bad and the surgeons have got him under ice, waiting for the fever to go down till they can operate, what do you suppose that kid has been doing? I tell you it got under my skin.”’ He stopped short. It was evident that he was deeply moved. He went on, half hesitating: “‘Charley’s a very sick man. They’re afraid to give him morphine before the chloroform—well, what do you suppose is the one thing that’ll soothe down the delirium and keep him quiet in his bed? It’s Florine, singing ‘Bonnie Doon.’ The piano’s right under his bedroom; so the walls act as a sounding-board. So the doctor said she’d better keep it up. And if you'll believe me, Julie tells me—that’s her mother—that that kid has sat at that piano and sung for her father all yesterday and last night and all to- day again, When he falls asleep, she'll lie down on the sofa and rest, but only when her mother gives her Bible oath to wake her up directly her father gets rest- less again. Say, if you could have seen that kid as I saw her to-day, white as a little ghost, with one little brother bringing her hot listerine and water to gargle her poor throat, and the other rubbing one of her arms for her while she kept it up on the piano with the other, and all the time singing, singing away in her little hoarse voice about the birds and flowers and things —singing against time for Char- ley’s life——”’ ‘With a sharply drawn, long breath, the speaker stopped siort. Then, with a resolute imitation of his usual dawdling manner, he resumed: “Those conceited young cubs at that decorated table over vonder—they’re one side of this kid business. Florrie’s the other. Jove! I couldn’t help wonder- ing what must it feel like to have a pretty, fresh, little thing like that, who cares so much about your old carcass that she’ll do for you what Florrie’s doing for her father!” The dinner was drawing to a close. Dessert, a pyramid of exquisitely tinted California fruits, was served. Sharp-faced little McGrew, carefully peeling a peach, spoke abruptly. ‘Look here: When it comes to this race-suicide business, I reckon we're all more or less in the same boat. A man’s fond of his wife, isn’t he? He likes to keep her looking pretty and fresh. And when she cries, and says he’s cruel to want her to suffer so much pain, and maybe lose her life —why he'd feel a brute to insist, wouldn’t he? Then there’s the expense—and everything. So the years go on, and they get used to there being no family. It’s happened like that with you fellows, and I have a hunch it’s going to be the same way with me. But, just the same, when | think of home, and how mother used to put father’s slip- pers before the fire and apples to roast on the fender the way he liked the his key clicked in the front door, the whoop us kids would give, all six of us seeing which could get there and give him the first hug. It must have been nice for him to come home like that, instead of the way we-all came home this evening— it must have been kind of nice, after all.” He snapped his coffee-cup down on its saucer, and went on, with a sudden snarl: ‘If we’re ali disgruntled, let’s own the truth. We're | Abs / Ad \ \ ~ s n n t it §
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46 For She Loved Much three deserted husbands. Husbands! Not exactly that, either. We're not bachelors any more—that’s jolly certain! But if vou call us married men—well, just what does mar- riage, as the modern American woman has reduced it, offer to the man? No home, no children—’’ The speaker jumped to his feet. ‘By Jove, I’m about getting to the end of my rope! You fellows coming to smoke a cigar?” ‘Here they are, our three good old scouts!” cried a clear, high-toned voice. And the three men, rising from the table, were suddenly enveloped by the fluttering, glittering, perfumed aureole of feminine presences. “No, no; don’t bother over us—we took a bite together at the club after leaving the meeting—a glorious meeting! But Grace deserves the credit—it was she that did it all.” Grace Wetmore demurred. She was a dark, solidly built woman in magnificent sables, above which rose a Greek profile with an energetic chin. Her beautifully made-up face, whose rippling curves were not so much those of youth as of the beauty-expert, was just now flushed by unusual excitement. “Oh, no, darling! All I did was to telephone all over town and get the quorum together. But tell your news, Lily; tell your news!” “Lily’s too modest,” put in the breathless voice of little Adelaide McGrew: “so I'll tell it for her. Just think, boys! Lily’s been elected president of the New York chapter. That means she'll have control of the whole movement from Staten Island to the Bronx. She'll lead the parade in June, mounted on horseback—she rides so splendidly “But what I like best,’ put in the crystalline, decided tones of Lily Brundidge herself, “‘is that now I'll be in a position to push through my new rest-home for my working girls. No; I don’t care for any coffee. Let’s all go to the lounge. That reminds me, Phil, I have something to speak to you about.” Mrs. Brundidge was a tall, glowing, magnificent creature, with something of the flying grace of an Atalanta in her supple figure and in her radiant, eagerly-lifted profile. From the brilliant figure she made, the suggestion of tenderness was curiously missing. But for her slender, well-preserved throat, and for the faint lines that barely showed at the corners of her beautiful brown eyes, she might have been some magnificent young man dressed in woman’s clothes for college theatricals. It was evident that the woman’s business about which she had been occupied had stirred her to the very depths of her nature, leaving place for nothing else. With an enigmatic, slightly melancholy smile curling the edges of his well-cut lips, her husband obediently followed the group back into the lounge. It was deserted. The greater part of the married couples living in the hotel departed instantly after dinner to escape, in dancing or in theatergoing, the boredom of a domestic evening. The three women filled it with the clamor of their high-pitched, excited voices, discussing the important events of the afternoon. It was plain that the emotional nature of each one found its vent, its culminating expres- sion, in the seething struggles and rivalries of their own feminine world. The three men, sitting disregardedly suck- ing their cigars, were to pay the bills and get what satisfac- tion they could from the brilliant figures cut by their wives. For the rest, these three women, like all others of their kind, would have indignantly repudiated the idea that they were anything but exemplary wives. Had one of them ever be- stowed a glance on another man? The ages of the world have waited for America, with its plethoric riches and hard-working, indulgent, preoccupied manhood, to produce their type—brilliant birds without song, richly blossoming flowers without scent, lovely female shapes without the heart of womanhood. Little Adelaide McGrew—a fair, fluffy, rose-leaf blonde— prattled incessantly of the afternoon’s thrilling events. It was evident that her volatile and childish nature was com- pletely dominated by that magnificent ruler of women, Lily Brundidge. She hung on the latter’s words, expatiated on her success. Her husband, meanwhile, sat by as disregarded as a father might expect to be in the presence of his daughter’s lover. He made, however, a manful attempt to secure his wife’s attention by the channel which experience had shown him to be most effective. ‘Addie, listen: I sold those building-lots out in Brooklyn to-day—three thousand dollars velvet ar. “Oh Lily, do you hear that? I’m so glad! Now I can pay my year’s subscription in a lump, and come across decently for your home. And, oh, Harry, if you want to be a regular darling, you’ll let me have that little electric brougham and a French maid of my own.”’ “That reminds me,” cut in the silvery, decided tones of Mrs. Brundidge. ‘‘I have something to speak to you about, Phil. That girl Callie—the maid for our suite. She must be got rid of at once. I spoke to Mr. Page about her this morning.” Brundidge looked up. An enigmatic spark flashed in his dark eyes. In the private relations of his domestic life, he was as docile as most American husbands, but interference with anything that related to his business provoked his immediate resentment. Picking up the little telephone from the table beside him, he spoke briefly into it. “Give me Mr. Page. Isthis Page? Send the maid Callie here at once, please—and kindly remember for the future that no discharging of the help takes place until I have personally looked into the matter.” “But, my dear Phil,” cried his wife, in the patient, superior tones with which one reasons with a rebellious child, ‘you don’t seem to understand! There's no need for making a scene. You can take my word for it—the girl’s an out-an-out bad lot——” Little. Adelaide McGrew struck into the conversation with her babyish, lisping drawl. “What I hate about women who act like Callie is that they’re traitors to their sex in this very era of the world when the rest of us are struggling so hard for woman’s emancipation. They cheapen the value of womanhood right along the line.- There’s a verse somewhere—I don’t know if I can quote it right “( wasteful woman, she who might On her own sweet self set the price. How has she cheapened paradise, How spoiled the bread and spilled the wine!” ‘Adelaide is right!” declared Lily, in her clear, ringing tones. ‘In former times, her sin was one merely against the moral law; now it’s against all womanhood itself. If weak wretches like Callie are content to ‘sell cheap what is most dear,’ how are the rest of us to hold our value high?” “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” growled Wetmore under his breath; ‘“‘you modern women know well how to keep your current value well above par!” A black-and-white figure appeared in the doorway and advanced with wavering step toward the group. Then, pausing with down-bent head before Brundidge, the new- comer addressed him in faltering tones. “You sent for me, sir?” Brundidge raised his eyes. Beneath the airy conven- tional cap of the stylish parlor-maid, he saw a shallow, angular face, whose irregular lineaments were reddened with weeping. She was of a type separated by centuries of evolution from the highly polished, perfectly controlled members of the same species and sex before whom she stood. Here was the primitive woman, a creature ruled not by intellect but by instinct, capable of sublime self- sacrifice or of every crime in the decalogue, according as the influences exercised on her were for good or for ill. “T sent for you, Callie,’ returned Brundidge, with his impersonal business manner, “to know what’s this about Mr. Page sending you away.” £2 | 4 aw
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DRAWN BY GEORGE GrEns a <= 2 idge sternly. asked Brund C Is this true, Idn't be no use” That is, it wou sir. I can't tell you, if 4 | 47
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48 For She Loved Much “Tf vou please, sir” —the words were punctuated with great gasps, and the red hands tortured the filmy scrap of an apron till they almost rent it in two—‘‘if you please, sir, that’s what Mr. Page said. But I wanted to ask you, sir, since you're so good—vou see it'll be a bad thing for me gettin’ sacked this wey in the middle of winter without any character. I can’t get high-class hotel work again ‘thout a reference, an’ I'll have to take up general housework in low-class boarding-houses, an’ I zin't strong enough. I broke down when I tried it once before. So, sir, I wanted to ask—if vou wouldn't be so kind and let me go away for a month—a month'll be enough, even three weeks—an’ then I'l] come back an’ everything'll go on all right. I always did my work satisfactory, sir—you c’n ask Mr. Page—just a month’s leave, sir, or even three weeks, that’s all I ask!” Ina frenzy of agonized pleading that rendered her oblivious to all her audience except her employer himself, Callie clung to the chair-back by which she stood. There was not one of her hearers, of course, who did not perfectly well under- stand for what privilege she so passionately begged. Brun- didge looked at her fixedly. Something in his gaze caused the “sudden tears to spring from the girl’ s eves s terrible, ain't it, sir, she said wildly. else c’n a workin’ girl do?’ Mrs. Brundidge cut in with her crisp, delicate accents. “This conversation is getting a trifle—medical, don’t you think?”’ she remarked coldly. “But if we're to take up this girl’s case, it seems to me that our first duty of all is to regularize her situation. “The man must be found and forced tomarry her. But here, Mr. Page tells me, is the difficulty. “But what She refuses stubbornly to disclose her lover's name.” asked Brundidge sternly. Then the words “Ts this true, Callie?” She bobbed her head in a scared nod. burst from her. For the first time in her glitteringly successful life, the regal woman knew the humiliating emotion of jealousy. She quivered and cow- ered while Brundidge continued to telephone “T can’t tell you, sir. That is, it wouldn’t be no use. It would on’y be ruinin’ two instead 0’ one. You see he— he’s a janitor. He’d marry me to-morrow, but they want a single man. The fellow before him lost his place ’cause he got married. And if se lost his place, all through me, what'd he do? He’s new to the city, an’ he’s like me—he ain’t real strong. He hurt his back once in a grain-ele- vator, an’ he can’t take up heavy work. No; Ill stick it out by myself. I’m the one that’s done wrong, ‘cause I was raised right. But he was so lonely and kind o’ patient -an’ he felt so terrible bad that he couldn’t seem to get a chance to get married—an’ we loved each other so Her failing voice trailed away in the mounting sobs. She turned away toward the door, a tragic, defeated | figure. *T’m—I'm sorry to ‘a’ bothered you,” she murmured brokenly. ‘* Good-by.” Brundidge lifted his hand. allie!” She turned with the eves of a scared animal. spoke rapidly. “Go right off and telephone this fellow of yours. Tell him to scare up a priest the first thing to-morrow morning. He can resign his janitorship. Tl find him another place in one of my country hotels, probably.”’ “Oh, sir,” gasped the girl, “I think this is heaven and vou are God! Excuse me, sir; I'll go right off and tele- phone.” And stumbling dizzily, sustaining her unsteady steps by the furniture, she groped her way to the door. With a nonchalant gesture, Brundidge lit a cigarette. Brundidge Silence lay thick upon the group. Lily Brundidge rose and stood before her husband. Scorn and resentment sparkled in her large brown eves. (Continued on page 126) ? x j = x ° 2 j
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HE DOLLY SISTERS—Roszika and Jancst—have, it is rumored, at last felt the appeal of the silent drama. This will mean much to the devotee of the moving picture, for than these famous twins it would be hard to find two more charming or graceful young women among the present ornaments of the American stage. PHOTOGRAPHS BY CAMPBELL STUDIOS, $38 FIFTH AVE., NEW YORK \\ fi Wwe’ 4 ad i ¢ & = = % bal 49
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RACE VALENTINE plays in * Lombardi Ltd.” the amusing part of a young woman whose ideas of life, derived from “movie” thrillers, are shattered when she gets work as a manikin in a man dressmaker’s establishment. The réle is admirably suited to this clever comédienne, who, last season, made a big hit in “Johnny Get Your Gun.” ~ 4 | . SO
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’ plays the réle of a photo-play vam pire, who, however, is of a mast domestic nature, and longs for a vine-covered cottage and the pleasures of raising chickens and ducks, all of which she luckily obtains when she marries a scenario writer of similar tastes. PHOTOGRAPHS BY CAMPBELL STUDIOS J ‘ j : & 51 q
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mets 76 of ae CLAIRE’S entrance into straight comedy has been one of the most interesting events of the present nit theatrical season. The success of her début as a comtdienne in “ Polly With a Past” gives promise that she will quickly win in a higher region of dramatic art the)nation-wide popularity that was hers as a clever mimic. J - ¢ | 34 | fe | \ E us \ - | : \ as sh
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A Novel of Divorce By Elizabeth Robins Author of “My Little Sister,” ete. Illustrated by Alonzo Kimball AMILLA TRENHOLME, an American living in London, the divorced wife of Leroy Tren- holme, while touring the Alps meets Lady St. Amant (Alice), who, with a companion, is in the company of Lord Harborough. Alice’s brother, Michael Nancarrow, joins them. “Michael had met Camilla some years before while tarpon- fishing in Florida, where she had spent much of her time since early childhood. Mrs. Trenholme and her English friends return home together, and it is evident that Michael is in love with Camilla. The question of admitting her into the Nancar- row family circle is somewhat difficult, for the mother, Mrs. Nancarrow, has all the prejudices of her class, but permission to invite Camilla to Nancarrow Hall, the family estate in Cumberland, is finally obtained after Alice tells her mother that her new American friend is wealthy and a widow. When Camilla arrives, she finds many of the family. Besides the mother and Michael, there are Mrs. George Nancarrow (Nelly), wife of the elder son, a colonel serving in India; her children, of whom the oldest are Tony, Blanche, and Sue; Lady St. Amant and her daughters, Diana, Marjory, and Peggy. Also there is Alec Fairbairn, Tony’s tutor, who appears to be in love with Diana. Camilla makes herself instantly popular, espe- cially with the young people, and all goes well until Mrs. Nancarrow learns from another American, Mrs. Jardine, who is dining at the house, that Camilla is a divorcée. After a somewhat unpleasant scene, in which Mrs. Nancarrow accuses her guest of de- ceiving her, Camilla returns to London, but she had, before the mother’s discovery, promised Michael to become his wife. VI MICHAEL’S AMBASSADRESS * HE has certainly just come in or just gone out. I saw the motor drive away.” Lady St. Amant brushed past the butler and ran up-stairs. Camilla, in her hat and furs, was passing the drawing-room door on the way up to her bedroom. She stood like a person arrested in flight, but her face said nothing. “My dear!” Alice flew to embrace her. ‘How white you are, poor darling!” Camiila returned the kiss and gently disengaged herself. “When did you see me any thing but white?” “Now, now—you’re not to stiffen your spine as if you thought I was Michael’s ambassadress.”’ The only answer was the opening of the drawing-room door. ‘ Michael didn’t ask me to come.” Camilla threw her stole over the back of a chair. never thought he had.” “Oh, as to that, would it be so unnatural? “For Michael? Very, I should say.’ Camilla’s proprietary, air augured well. she sat down and drew off her ‘glov es. ‘Anyway, I’m here on my own,” she said, with the ease of her slang. “But, all the same, T can’t have you breaking Michael’s heart.” She waited. “He’s coming to London to- night. You'll see him? You won’t keep him waiting?” Alice smiled as She leaned over once more, torn between hesitation and a longing for flight “I’m going out,” said Camilla awkwardly. Alice smiled. A ruse of Camilla’s » was always so ridicu- lously transparent. “To dine?” “And to ‘Tannhiiuser. “Oh! Anybody staying here?’’ “N—not at the moment. But I’m expecting —— “Where Michael will be staying,-I- don’t know,’ Alice interrupted. “I’m to ring him up at the club and tell him—tell him where I'll be.’ Are you having fea soon?” Camilla’s eyes went to the clock.* She seemed about to point out the early hour. Then, with apologetic haste: “But of course! You're tired after that journey.” She rang the bell. “Such a brute of a day! What were you doing out in the rain?” “Matching silks.” She undid a little parcel. “Pure restlessness, 7 know. You Americans are as much afraid of getting wet as any cat. Partly your clothes, I suppose. When the footman comes back, do you mind 99 saying you’re not at home? Till six, anyway, unless” — COPYRIGHT, 1017, BY INTERNATIONAL MAGAZINE COMPANY (CORMOCOLITAN MAGAZINE) COPYRIGHTED IN GREAT BRITAIN Alice brought in her main point, postscript-wise—‘‘unless 53 3 4 4 | ? 4 : 4 & >. 4 rh 4 \ +
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54 Camilla. Lionel should come.” Camilla gave her a quick look. “I’m not expecting Lord Harborough,” she said. “Oh, see here! I know you’re not very happy your- self, but it isn’t like you to make that a reason for being disagreeable.” “I could bear being what you caJl ‘disagreeable.’ What I don’t like is seeming to interfere in—” She broke off and turned to the fire. Alice was on her feet. “What is it, dearest?” The two stood shoulder to shoulder, looking into the blaze. “Tell me.” “I—thought’’—the words came out heavily—‘when I saw you and your husband together at Nancarrow, I was sure you had made it up with him.” “Made it up! We've never fallen out.” “You mean—he still has no idea!” “On the contrary, he has a very clear idea.” Camilla’s gaze widened. “How long has he known?” “Oh, for vears!” ““Vears?’” She swallowed her astonishment. “You mean he doesn’t mind?” ‘What he can’t help? No. Richard is very sensible.” Camilla left the fire and went over to the window. The rain fell heavily. Alice spoke in an undertone to the footman who brought in the tea. “Yes, m’lady.” Camilla. turned from the gray world outside, hesitated a moment with knitted brows, and then took her place by the tea-urn. Alice had al- ready possessed herself of a roll of bread and but- ter. She smiled over it at her friend. “T thought you and Lord Harborough had only just found each other,’ said Camilla. “That vou'd be coming home to get a divorce.”’ “Oh, did you?” With her little air of smiling superior- ity, Alice set the issue firmly on one side. “Whatever the reason was, you were a great dear. Lionel quite loves you. If it were anybody but you, Id be jealous.” But Camilla’s anxious gravity was beyond the reach of blandishment. “Your love-story did catch hold of me. Most of all, I think, because you weren’t young——” “Thank you, darling!” A peal of good-humored laughter filled the room. And when her sobering came, it came as though at the prompting of affectionate solicitude. Her cheerful concern was not, you would say, in the remotest degree for herself. It was all for Camilla. And indeed, Camilla, palpably struggling to clear away the closer gathering mists, presented a somewhat humorous picture to the lucid and fearless mind. “I'd been thinking for six years that everything was over for me——”’ ' “From the ripe age of twenty-two!” Alice threw in. “Darling Camilla! As I look back over the months we've “And then I saw that you—yes; vou gave me a feeling— Oh, this life must be a richer, hopefuler thing, when a woman could find—what you'd found, after forty. It made me feel less old.” ; “‘T seem to have been as unexplained to you as you were to me. After all’”—Alice waved her hand as if to put these trifles behind them—‘‘there isn’t any general belief more unfounded—is there, dearest?—than that women tell one another their every thought.” “We don’t seem to have,” Camilla agreed moodily. “Of course you haven’t!” Again Alice airily shifted the burden. ‘Very few do, if they’ve anything worth telling.”’ Was this an invitation to leave the mystery where it was? Would Alice have been franker to one of her own com- patriots? Camilla drew back, agape before the old familiar pit. She was useful. yo \ | KS
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. known one another, I see you now clearly for the first time” “What are you looking like that for?’”’ Alice’s patience was wearing thin. “Do be reasonable. You know why I couldn’t talk as openly as I might have liked. It wasn’t as if I'd been you, a perfectly free woman. Yet, even you— did you ever tell me about your husband?” “Well, you know now,” said Camilla quickly. “What do I know?” “The main thing.’ ‘She turned her head away. only thing that concerns other people.” “Exactly. You’ve told me only what you couldn’t keep.”’ In the pause, Alice realized the conversation was slipping back into acrimony. That wasn’t at all what she had come for. She put out her hand and closed it over Camilla’s. “It’s partly my fault. I made you think I was more self-centered than I am. I’ve often quite longed to ask you—things. What was he like—your husband?” “The Camilla pushed away her untasted cup. “T’m no good at de- scribing people.” She got up and took a piece - of embroidery out of a work-table. Alice watched her laying the new silks against the old. “I’m sure of one thing: He was horrid.” “Horrid?” “Yes; or else you wouldn’t have let him go.”’ “He wasn’t the least horrid. Anything but—” She checked herself, and bent her head again over the silks. Alice stared at the averted profile. “You didn't want to divorce him?” “No.” “Then why, in heaven's name, did you do it? Really, now?” “T’ve told you.” “No; only why he wanted the divorce. Not why you agreed.” “IT wouldn't at first.” “What made you in the end?” “Because,” she said, with her simpleton look, ‘he made such a point of it.” “He!” Alice St. Amant gasped. ‘He made such a p—’ She broke into a peal of laughter. “Really, you are —how any man could part with such a priceless crea- ture——” Camilla sat down on the sofa and began to untwist a skein of silk. Alice crouched on the floor close to her. “Forgive me, darling!’ Alice gathered herself together and wiped her eyes. “Camilla, I adore you! Don’t punish my levity. The fact is, your kind of calmness has the odd effect of making me a little hysterical. Look! I’m crying quite as much as I’m laughing. It’s wonderful to have such a power as you have of setting yourself and thinking yourself into some one else. No wonder Michael worships you. Darling Camilla! As I look back over the months we’ve known one another, I see you now clearly for the first time. And what I see is, you are the most unselfish person I’ve ever known.” “You were never more mistaken in your life. I didn’t know what I was about when I—did what Leroy wanted.” “Didn’t you understand he meant to marry the other woman?” “T’m not thinking,” Camilla said, with a passion that belied her, ‘‘not thinking about any other woman. I’m thinking about me. I didn’t know how bad it was going to be.” “You mean what you've lost socially?” She seemed not to hear. “Tf I had it to do over again, [ wouldn’t.” “Wouldn’t have divorced him!” “No. That's how unselfish I am.” Alice pursed her lips; very nearly she whistled. Then her mouth widened again to an impish laugh. “In short, the trouble with both our husbands seems to Elizabeth Robins 4 a ; | f 4 |
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56 Camilla be they're too bright and good for human nature’s daily food.” She bent to look into the averted face. No ghost of an answering smile there. “Oh dear,” she sighed for the thousandth time at Camilla’s blindness to the vis comica, “I expect you said that just to make me think losing Michael would be quite a secondary thing. Stiff upper lip, eh?” Camilla’s little gesture seemed more fatigue than denial. She leaned her head on;the back of the sofa. “Ves,” Alice went on; “that’s why you sit there trying to persuade vourself that ‘if you’d known.’ Well, listen to me: You haven't lost Michael!” Out of the pause, Camilla’s voice seemed to come from far away. “T told Leroy last spring——’ “You keep on meeting!” Alice sat up. “Only that once. We had to settle some business about a will. It was at the American consulate. I told him then if I had it to do over, I wouldn't.” Alice stared at the desolate white face. “T hadn’t a notion you minded so. I used to wonder why a woman like you submitted to such a life. Of course, living alone like that, you kept going over the past.”’ Alice leaned forward with ill-suppressed eagerness. “And that’s what I really came for. To cheer you on.” “To cheer me?” said the other, with unlit gloom. “Yes, vou dear person.” She sat on the sofa and put an arm.round Camilla. “And to tell you I'd stand by you.” The dark eyes turned on her, wondering. ‘It will be much simpler for vou,” Alice went on eagerly, “Oh, much simpler than it’s been for me! You see, vou've got everything in your favor and no responsibilities.” “What are vou talking about?” “About you and Michael, of course.” Camilla sat rigid. ‘‘There’s no reason on earth why you and Michael shouldn’t see as much of one another as ever you like.” ‘Just as you and Lord Harborough do?” Camilla asked, after a pause. — “Oh, much more easily than poor Lionel and me. Nobody has the smallest right to haul vou over the coals. If anybody dared to, you could afford to snap your fingers. All that money, no children, and no—well, an American.” Camilla got up, looking stupidly in front of her, and all the colored silks slipped down to the floor. Alice rose, too. But for Camilla’s impassive face, Alice would have gone more warily. But Camilla’s looks gave you no warning. In the absence of finger-posts, Alice rushed on. “Heavens! What wouldn’t many a woman give to be in your shoes! More than anybody /’ve ever known, you're your own mistress—’ She stopped short as she met Camilla’s gaze. What on earth was the matter? “Yes; my own mistress,’ Camilla said. For the first time, Alice looked at her friend uneasily. But Camilla, still with that misleading quietness, went on, after the slightest possible pause, ‘ “Did you tell Peters to bring Lord Harborough up if he came?” “Yes.” Not Camilla, something in the air carried chill. “Surely you don’t mind, dearest?” “I—am—afraid—I—do.” “What’s happened?” Alice demanded, with sudden sharp- ness. ‘‘What’s different?” “When he used to come before, I didn’t understand——”’ “Understand what, in heaven’s name?” “I didn’t understand”’—she found the’ words with difficulty—‘‘that you weren’t going through with it.” “God bless me, we fave gone through with it! As far as— as far as circumstances allow.’’ In the pause, Camilla stood motionless. ‘You stand there and tell me that, after everything, you don’t want Lionel to come here?” “I’m sorry; I don’t want to hurt your feelings.” Alice’s eyes glinted. “Has it occurred to you that if you won’t have Lionel, you mightn’t have me?” “Yes,”’ Camilla said dully; “that has occurred to me.” Actually she was accepting the alternative! “Perhaps you haven’t realized that do- ing without me might mean doing without Michael?”’ “Ves; I know how youall hold together.” Thedooropened. “Lord Harbor- ough!” Peters an- nounced:. Alice went to meet him with all her practised ease untarnished. ‘How nice and prompt of you, Lionel! _Camilla’”’— she turned her head—‘‘you'll find Camilla just a little out of sorts.” do you the hostess nodded. “I’m not going to tell you what she’s been saying, because I think she’ll be glad I didn’t by and by.” Instead of going forward to meet Harborough, Camilla had made her way out through the folding doors into the back drawing-room. Anything that wore less the look of turning a man out of your house was never done. She realized that as she paused after the doors were shut, hesitating where to take herself. That shamefaced “How | 4 4 4 = ig % ¥ \ * %
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Elizabeth Robins 57 do you do?” as she glided past seemed to put her alone in the wrong. Instead of turning him out, she had turned herself out. Through the closed doors, she heard the hum of pleasant voices. They were in no hurry to go. Yet she dared not so much as seek refuge in her bedroom for fear of running into those two as she passed their door. Their door! They would be so sure at the critical moment to come out of it. She looked cautiously into the hall. It would be safer, “Who is this fellow?" Michael imate “A friend of Alice’s—from the Russian embassy" she decided, to go down. The little tapestry-room—yes! As she fled down the stair, she caught sight of luggage: in the lower hall. She stopped and leaned over the ban- isters. Could it be? Yes; Alice’s monogram. She had meant to stay. Alice’s plans had very much gone agley! Just beyond the pile of luggage—whose feet were those? She was about to speak Peters’ name, but she could hear Peters at the telephone. She leaned farther out over the banister. A man in a mackintosh—Michael! His head’ bent, writing a note on the back of his pocketbook. Michael come to— She turned and fled, noiseless, up four or five steps. Those others up there! She stopped again. Perhaps Michael had already seen her. She leaned over once more, torn between hesitation and a longing for flight. Still he stood there with his head bent, quietly writing. He looked a different breed from Alice. Was he as different in mind as he was in feature? What had he come for? A wave of shame swept her as she remembered Alice’s plan. Had he, indeed, come for that? As he turned the half-sheet he was writing on, he lifted his eyes. “Camilla!” The face lit up. Could a man look like that who— “This is a piece of luck!” He slipped off his wet coat while she hastened down, saying, breathless, “T can’t let you stay—not now!” “What’s the matter?” He followed as she backed toward the tapestry-room. simply must speak to you a minute.”’ “Sh! Speaklow.” She glanced anxiously up the stairs. “Of course I won't stay but a minute now, as you've got people here——”’ “You know who.” “How should I?” “Aren't you expecting a message at your club?” “Message? No.” He swept the enigma aside. “‘Camilla’’— she watched him with wary eyes—“‘you didn’t really think I'd let you go forever, just be- cause we’re old-fashioned people at Nancarrow, and don’t take instantly to new ways?” ‘What new ways?” she de- manded. He never troubled to an- swer. “You'll see. It will all come right, once we are mar- ried.” “Married?” He laughed his low, de- licious laugh. “T think I mentioned the word before. Dear—’ His breath was on her face. She half closed her eyes with a sense of exquisite faintness. But she opened them suddenly and again looked up the stair. “T couldn’t,” she whispered. ‘‘Don’t you know you'd feel it dreadfully, going against your mother and your brother and everybody?” “T don’t think about that at all.” “Yes; I was afraid so,” she said sadly. “Does anybody, when he’s being caught up to paradise, keep thinking about the earth?” “We have to think.”” She seemed to admonish herself. “Exactly. We are going to think about being married.” “TI—I can’t say to-night.” “You must say to-night—or, rather, you needn’t.” “Oh, I needn’t!”’ “Needn’t say it over, because you’ve said it once.” 3 4 i | ; ¥ Mee i
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58 Camilla “What did I say?” She joined her hands with an effect of wringing them. “Did I say I loved you?” He put his happy face near hers. “No—icicle! But you said you’d marry me. I shall melt you afterward—or I'll break you into little shining bits.” He had taken her by her slender wrists and was drawing her to him. Voices on the landing above. She slid out of his hold, backed into the tapestry-room, and shut a noiseless door between them. VII THE CHAFING-DISH SUPPER WHEN he entered Camilla’s box in the entr’acte, it seemed to be as full already as it could hold. She gave him her eyes over irrelevant shoulders, and he was content to wait. His reward was to hear her, in the face of much persuasion, refuse to keep what she declared was only a semipromise to “go on’ to a supper-party. They convicted her of caprice; they bantered; an eager young woman positively bullied. “Do you not know,” said a foreign gentleman, with a Tatar or even Kalmuck cast of face, “do you not know that when Mrs. Trenholme looks like that, it is hopeless?” “Tf she had any reason!” complained a young woman in the “all-round” tiara, rows of gems round her neck, and diamond brooches stuck at random over the front of her bodice. The ill-natured had been known to say that Mrs. Trenholme recognized how good a foil for her simplicity was Judith Kinglake’s barbaric splendor. Nancarrow’s eyes went from box to box and then back to Camilla. The truth was she had the knack of making most women look overdressed. As two of the men at the back passed out into the foyer, others crowded in. All the occupants of the box were standing, greeting acquaintances, praising or objurgating the performers, laughing, buzzing. Over all, Judith Kinglake’s tiara, and her diamond-hard voice: “You might, at least, invent some excuse. At three o'clock you were quite pleased with my plan. The question is: What’s happened since three o’clock?” Nancarrow at last had made his way to Camilla’s hand. “If they don’t let you alone,” he threatened, smiling, “Tl tell them.” “Tell them what?” she returned, a little startled. “Tell them what’s happened since three o’clock.” Camilla sat down in her corner again and opened the case of her opera-glass. The foreigner with the flat nose and high cheek-bones bent down to whisper something. He seemed not to be thinking of what he was saying but of what he was looking at. Out of a swathe of black gauze, Camilla’s shoulders rose white as ocean foam against the darkness of storm-gathered seaweed. Slowly the Russian’s heavy eyes crawled over her. “There is a draft with that door open,’’ Nancarrow said. “Won't vou have your cloak?” Without waiting for her opinion or consent, “I beg your pardon,” he said to the: other man. Before Prince Shubaloff realized what base advantage was to be taken of his politeness in giving way for a moment, the vision was wrapped from his sight in an ermine cloak. Having accomplished this with notable despatch, Nancarrow drew the chair, which the Russian had marked for his own, close to the lady’s side and estab- lished himself in it. The two leaned over the front of the box and looked at the scene below. “Who is this fellow?” Michael whispered. “A friend of Alice’s—from the Russian embassy.” “Well, I wish he’d go back there.” The tone was so unlike Nancarrow’s that she asked, in a whisper, what was the matter. “T'll tell you going home.” “*Going home?’” “Yes; I suppose you know I’m going home with you.” ” “Tt will be very late “Not too late for the rest of the party to go to supper.” “There won’t be any supper at home.” “Oh, well, I can do without supper,” he laughed. Her eyes fell from his face. The lights went down; the first notes came up from the orchestra.. He resigned his seat and made his way out, wondering. Two hours later, she stood beside him at the windy entrance just inside the colonnade. In the glare of electric light, Camilla’s dark head rose out of her ermine coat with a distinction due partly to the fact that she, alone among the clustered women, wore no veil or scarf. Yet the wind spared her. No wisps of hair*blew out. On her part, none of the general clutching at flapping wraps and flying laces. Her clean outlines more than ever reminded Nancarrow of a head among the Pisanello coins he and she had lingered to look at that first night in the Varias’ salon de réceplion. “Here comes ours!” When he turned on the curb to hand her into her car, he saw, to his surprise, that she had some one with her— a middle-aged woman, very stout. Mrs. Trenholme gave the footman an address that wasn’t her own. As the door slammed, “‘We can drop Mrs. Blake— Mr. Nancarrow,”’ she threw in the introduction. Mrs. Blake's gratitude and the reasons why her motor wasn’t available filled the early part of the drive. The interloper’s redundant proportions, filling the car, prolonged the sense of crowding. Michael left off, in- wardly cursing, and fell to thanking God when the fat lady stepped out in the rain at her own door. As he sank into the seat beside Camilla, “‘Now, why, in heaven’s name, did you do that, most unaccountable of women?” And then he smiled triumphantly at the large admission wrung by silence. Under the ermine cloak his hand found a way to hers. The chill of it struck through her thin suéde glove. ° “How cold!” He brought it to his lips. “Oh, colder still, if my coat isn’t held tight.” She drew her hand back and his followed after. The arm he had slipped under her elbow lay at her side. It was as if he had come close to some wild thing caught in a sudden cap- tivity. The violence of that heart-beating made his own leap. Cold manner. Icy hand. And a heart going like this! He sat thrilled in the darkness. “The car can take you home.” He thanked her absently. But it would be too late, he said. “Not at all.” That old formality came back into her voice as she sat up and grasped her cloak tighter in freed hands. He saw they were slowing in front of Mrs. Tren- holme’s door. “It can’t be much after half-past eleven,” she added. “You don’t mean you don’t want me to come in?” He was too incredulous ‘to be hurt. ‘“To-morrow—any time to-morrow. Something in her. voice-reminded of “Don't frighten her... She’s very American’”’—a warning which, at.the time, had perplexed and even annoyed him. He wished now he hadn’ t so-abruptly closed the conversa- tion. What had Alice meant? Why should there be any pitfalls in dealing with ‘a normal person, however desperately American? After all, he reflected, so far as there was any- thing in what Alice had said, it was no doubt a reference to the code by which your young American may light- heartedly enough defy convention by living by herself and yet be far more circumspect in so doing than many a woman with belongings about. Other intimations, vague but coercive, came back to him. “Very well, cara mia.” His quiet acceptance left her battling, not, as she had expected, with him but with her own disappointment. She started as the footman appeared at the door. “You haven't rung? That’s right.” The footman
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DRAWN BY ALONZO KIMBALL She drew her hand away and sat down. “Don't ever send me camellias, please. “No?” He opened his eyes. “You haven't any idea of the trouble I took. And they didn't please you?” “Not camellias. Anything, but camellias.” She spoke with an odd, soft vehemence 59 ape / te 4 id, | y j a . | «* |
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opened an umbrella. It was all he could do to hold it against the wind. On the other side of the lady, Nancarrow, on the door-step, waited to unlock the door. She was still clutching her cloak with one hand. With the other, she felt under the folds for the chain that carried the latch- key. “IT can’t think,” she vented her nervousness, “why any- body who doesn’t have to ever goes out on a blustering night like this. You mustn't wait there in the rain.” “Oh, the rain!’’ he laughed. “We English grumble, but other people take it more to heart.” As if to punish him, a gust of wind seized his tall hat and nearly got away with it. “I’m not usually as stupid as this,” she apologized, still fumbling. The wind seemed to, know that, in her excitement upon finding herself coming out of Covent Garden alone with the man she had fled from two days before, she had not stopped to do up the somewhat complicated fastening of her coat. As she worked at the chain, the coat blew open. It went faring and bellying out behind its wearer. With both hands, Michael caught it. “In another minute I shall break this’miserable chain,” she said, trving to disentangle the key from loops and cords and laces, and then, “‘No; I'll ring.”’ It was for that the wind waited. “Oh, the gentleman’s hat!” she called out in French. “Quick, Frangois!” The chauffeur leaped out from behind his steering-wheel and went careering down the street after a black object that rolled and bumped, skipped and collided, and rolled on again. An electric light sprang up in the vestibule. The door stood open. Nancarrow, shading his eyes and looking down the street, was trying to follow the chase. ‘Come in a moment and let Henry shut the door.” She shivered as she slipped her coat off into the servant’s hands, and explained what had happened. ‘When it comes, bring it in here.” Camilla Nancarrow followed her into the room she had shut him out of a few hours before. She bent over the fire, hands to the blaze. 3 ‘Ugh! The damp goes down into the marrow: Bring up a chair.” As he obeyed her, he took note of the small reading-table on the other side of the hearth. Under a shaded lamp sat the letters of the last post in a pile on top of the evening papers; on the other side of the lamp, a solitary glass of milk. “Ts that your supper?” At his whimsical smile, she looked away (caught drinking milk like a baby!). The footman entered and presented an object with a highly apologetic air. The object was wet; it was muddy; it was bent; it was dented. Nancarrow leaned back in a fit of helpless laughter. ’ “Dan Leno would give his eyes for it,” he said, as he held out his hand. “You can't!” she protested, grave as the servant. “Not till it’s been dried, anyway.” The footman hesitated. “T ’ave wiped it’m. We ’aven’t got any fire that’s ’ot except this.” “Put it down here, then. Wait! A newspaper.”’ “While ’ she opened the Westminster and spread it over the low fender, “Bring a chafing-dish,”’ she went on, speaking rather fast for her; ‘‘T’ll doa Bombay duck—or cheese fondu, if there isn’t anything else."’ Very gingerly she propped the hat on the fender. A folding table was brought in and opened out. “No; I'll light the spirit-lamp,’ Camilla interjected, as the servant, after putting down a large tray, stood hesi- tating. Her eve surveyed the table for any lack. “Oh, what shall we drink?” she asked her guest. ‘Well, not milk,” he answered firmly. “As if I expected you to!” She ordered a bottle of Chateau Yquem. ‘And where is the bread?”’ ‘“Bread’m?”’ “Yes; bread.” She turned her head. be happy I suppose unless you had toast.” “Oh, Tl be happy,” Nancarrow assured her, “quite happy watching you over your witches’ brew.” He had seen these channg-dish rites performed - more than once in this house. They still had for him not only an extraordinary fascination but an effect of magic. She had risen as the ser- vant left the room and stood a moment survey- ing (Continued on page 137) “Vou wouldn’t It was like another world. Camilla sighed happily as she lay down on the sofa drawn in front of the bedroom fire 60
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The Stimulant Henry Calverly puts the Power to practical use By Samuel Merwin Illustrated by Howard Chandler Christy ISS WOMBAST looked up from her desk in the Sunbury Public Library and beheld Henry Cal- a verly, 3d. Then, with a slight fluttering of her pale, blue-veined eyelids and a compression of her thin lips, she looked down again and finished printing out a title on the catalogue-card before her. For Henry Calverly was faintly discon- certing toher. Though it was only eleven o’clock, and a Tuesday, he was attired in a blue-serge coat, snow-white trousers, and (could she have seen through the desk) ———> white stockings and shoes. His white “negligée’”’ shirt was decorated at the neck, with a “four-in-hand” of shim- ast mering foulard, blue and green. In his left hand was a Teel rolled-up, creamy-white felt hat and the crook of a thin bamboo stick. With his right he fussed at the fringe on his _ girl and that. Fora long time it had been the Caldwell girl. upper lip. Behind his nose-glasses and their pendant silk Lately, she had seen him with that strikingly pretty—but, cord his face was sober. There was a furrow between his she felt, rather “physical’””—young singer who was visiting blond eyebrows. He had the air of a youth who wants the gifted but whispered-about Mrs. Arthur V. Henderson, of “He didn't hear me. He's still at it” earnestly to concentrate without knowing quite how. lower Chestnut Avenue. Name of Doge, or Doag, or some- Miss Wombast was a distinctly “literary” person. She hing like that. read Meredith, Balzac, de Maupassant, Flaubert, Zola, Henry himself had been whispered about. Very recently. and Howells. She was living her way into the developing He had been seen at Hoffmann’s Garden, up the shore, with later manner of Henry James (this was the middle ’Nineties). a vulgar young woman in extremely tight bloomers. Of the She talked, on occasion, with an icy enthusiasm that many working-girl type. Had her out on atandem. Drinking beer. honest folk found irritating, of Stevenson’s style and of In Miss Wombast’s book-types there was no one who Walter Pater. said “Yeah” and “Gotta,” and spoke with the crude if It was Miss Wombast’s habit to look in her books for honest throat-‘‘r’”’ of the Middle West, and went with nice complete identification of the living characters she met. girls and vulgar girls, and carried that silly cane and wore She studied all of them, coolly, critically, at boarding-house the sillier mustache; who had, or had had, gifts of creation and library. Naturally, when a living individual refused and command, yet now, month in, month out, hung about to take his place among her gallery of book-types, she was Donovan’s soda-fountain; who never smoked and, apart puzzled. One such was Henry Calverly. from the Hoffmann’s Garden incident, wasn’t known to She had known something of his checkered career in drink, and who, despite the massed evidence, gave out an high school, where he had directed the glee club, founded impression of earnest endeavor—even of moral purpose. and edited the Boys’ Journal, written a rather bright one- Had she known him better, Miss Wombast would have act play for the junior class. Indeed, the village in general found herself the more puzzled. For Miss Wombast, had been mildly aware of Henry. He had stood out. Miss despite her rather complicated reading, still clung in some Wombast herself had sung a modest alto in the ‘‘Iolanthe’’ measure to the moralistic teachings of her youth, believing chorus, two years back, under Henry’s direction, and had that people either had what she thought of as “character”’ found him impersonally, ingenuously masterful, and a_ or else didn’t have it, that people were either industrious subtly pleasing factor in her thought-world. He had made or lazy, bright or stupid, vulgar or nice. Therefore, the a success of that job. The big men of the village gave hima fact that Henry, while still wrecking his stomach with dinner and a purse of gold. After all which, his mother had fountain-drinks and (a fecently aquired habit) with lemon- died; he had run, apparently, through his gifts and his meringue pie between meals, had not touched candy earnings, and had settled down to a curiously petty report- for two years—not a chocolate cream, not even a gum-drop! ing job, trotting up and down Simpson Street collecting —and this by sheer force of character, would have been useless little items for the Weekly Voice of Sunbury. Other confusing. And to read his thoughts, as he stood there be- young fellows of twenty either went to college or started fore her desk, would have carried her confus‘»n on into be- laying the foundation of a regular job in Chicago. Yet here wilderment. Mostly, these thoughts had to do with money was Henry, who had stood out, working half-heartedly at the and bordered on the desperate. Tentative little schemes sort of job you associated with the off-time of poor students, for getting money—even a few dollars—were forming and dressing aitogether too conspicuously, wasting hours—day- dissolving rapidly in his mind. times, when a young fellow ought to be working—with this He was concerned because his sudden little flirtation with ol
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62 The Stimulant Corinne Doag, after a flashing start, had Jost its glow. Only the preceding evening. He hadn't held her interest. The thrill had gone. Which plunged him into moods and brought to his always unruly tongue the sarcastic words that made matters worse. He was lunching down there to-day—he and Humphrey Weaver—and dreaded it, with moments of a rather futile, flickering hope. Deep intuition informed him that the one sure solution was money. You couldn’t get on with a girl without it. Just about so far; then things dragged. And this, of course, brought him, round the circle, back to the main topic. He was thinking about his clothes. They, at least, should move Corinne. Along with the mustache, the cane, the cord on his glasses. He didn’t see how people could help being a little impressed. Miss Wombast, even, who didn’t matter. It seemed to him that she was impressed. He was wondering, with the dread that the prospect of mental effort always roused in him, how on earth he was ever to write three whole columns about the Annual Business Men’s Picnic of the preceding afternoon, describing, in humorous yet friendly detail, the three-legged race, the ball- game _ between the fats and the leans, the dinner in the grove, the concert by Foote’s full band of twenty pieces, the purse given to Charlie Waterhouse as the most popu- Jar man on Simp- son Street. He had a thick wad of notes up at the rooms, but his heart was not in the labori- ous task of ex- panding them. He knew pre- cisely what old man Boice ex- pected of him— plenty of **per- sonal mention” forall the adver- tisers, giving space for space. Each day that he put it off would make the task harder. If he didn’t have the complete story in by Thursday night, Humphrey Weaver would skin him alive; vet here it was Wednesday morning, and he was planning to spend as much of the day as possible with the increasingly unresponsive Corinne. Life was difficult. Yes; it was as well that Miss Wombast couldn’t read his thoughts. She wouldn’t have known how to interpret them. She hadn’t the capacity to understand the wide, swift stream of feeling down which an imaginative boy floats all but rudderless into manhood. She couldn’t know of his pitifully inadequate little att@mpts to shape a course, to catch this breeze and that, even to square around and breast the current of life. Henry said politely: “Good-morning, Miss Wombast. I just looked in for the notes of new books.” “Oh,” she replied quickly, “I’m sorry you troubled. Mr. Boice asked me to mail it to the office at the end of the month. I just sent it—this morning.” - She saw his face fall. He mumbled something that scunded like: ‘Oh, all right! Doesn’t matter.’’ For a “Now—well—you see, I've about come to the conclusion that if H umphrey the work I do ain't worth ten a week—well spoke without looking up. moment he stood waving his stick in jerky, aimless little circles. Then went off down the stairs. On his way back to the office, Henry encountered the ponderous person of old Boice—six feet an inch and a half, head sunk a little between the shoulders, thick yellow- ish white whiskers waving down over a black bow tie, and a spotted, roundly protruding vest, a heavy old watch- chain with insignia of a fraternal order hanging as a charm, inscrutable, washed-out blue eyes in a deeply lined but nearly expressionless face. Such was Norton P. Boice, owner and titular editor of the Voice, postmaster these six or seven years, dispenser of the petty Republican patronage, a good deal of a figure along Simpson Street during a long generation. Henry stopped short, stared at his employer. Mr. Boice did not stop. Henry was thinking: “Old crook! Wish I had a paper of my own here and I'd get back at him. Run him out of town, that’s what!” And after he had nodded and rushed by, his color mounting: ‘Like to know why I should work my head off just to make money for him. No sense in that!” Henry came moodily into the Voice office, dropped down at ink-stained, lit- » tered table behind 4 the railing, and sighed twice. He picked up a pen- cil and fell to outlining ink spots. The sighs were directed at Humphrey Weaver, the un- titled editor and Henry’s friend, who sat bent over the roll-top desk by the pressroom door, cob pipe in mouth, writing “ very rapidly. “Don’t let that Business Men’s Picnic get away from vou, Hen. Really. ought to be getting it in type now.” Henry sighed again, let his pencil fall on the table, gazed heavily, helplessly at the wall. “Old man say anything to you about the ‘Library Notes’?”’ Humphrey glanced up and. removed his pipe. His swarthy long face wrinkled thoughtfully. “Ves; just now. He’s going to have Miss Wombast send ’em in direct every month.” “And I don’t have ’em any more.” Humphrey considered this fact. “Tt doesn’t amount to very much, Hen.” “Oh, no—works out about sixty cents to a dollar. It ain’t that altogether—it’s the principle. I’m getting tired of it.” The pressroom door was ajar. Humphrey reached out and closed it. Henry got out of his chair and sat on the edge of the table. His eyes brightened sharply. Emotion crept into his voice and shook it a little. “Do you know what he’s done to me—that old double- face? Took me in here two years ago at eight a week with | |
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| BY HOWARD CHANDLER CHRISTY “Tt must be all hours. What on earth will Mildred think?” “Let her think,” said Henry, close to her ear, and again there was silence | | j | AN » i j (.
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64 The Stimulant a promise of nine if I suited. Well, I did suit. But did I get the nine? Not until I’d rowed and begged for seven months. A year of that, a lot more work— You know.” Humphrey slowly nodded. “And I asked for ten a week. Would he give it? No! I knew I was worth more than that, so I offered to take space-rates instead. Then what does he do? You know, Hump. Been clipping me off, one thing after another, and piling on the proof and the office-work. Here’s one thing more gone to-day. Last week my string was exactly seven dollars and forty-six cents. Darn it, it ain’t fair! I can’t live! I won't stand it! Gotta be ten a week or I—I'll find out why. Show-down.”’ Humphrey Weaver smoked and considered him. After a little, he remarked quietly: “Look here, Hen: I don’t like it any more than you do. T’ve seen what he was doing. I’ve tried to forestall him once or twice——” “IT know it, Hump.” Henry was quite listless now. “He's a tricky o!d fox. If I only knew of some- thing else I could do—or that we could do together——— *But—this was what I was going to say— no matter how we feel, I’m going to be really in trouble if I don’t get that picnic story pretty soon. Mr. Boice asked about it this morning.” Henry leaned against Mr. Boice’s desk up by the window, dropped his chin into one hand. “T'll do it, Hump. This afternoon. Or to-night. We're going down to Mildred’s this noon, of course.” “That's part of what’s bothering me. God knows how soon after that you'll break away from Corinne.” “Pretty darn soon,” remarked Henry sul- lenly, “the way things are going now. [ll get at it, Hump. Honest, I will. But right now— You don’t know how I feel. I couldn't!” * Where vou going now?” don't know.” He moved a hand weakly through the air. “Walk around. Gotta be by my- self. Sorta think it out. This is one of the days—I been thinking —be twenty-one in- November. Then V\l show him, and all the rest of ‘em. Have a little money then. I'll show this hypocritical old town a few things—a few things—” His voice died to a mumble. He fe't with limp fingers at his mustache. “Til be ready quarter or twenty minutes past twelve,” Humphrey called after him, as he moved mournfully out to the street. Mr. Boice moved heavily along, inclining . his massive head, without a smile, to thisac- quaintance and that, and turned in at Schultz & Schwartz’s. The spectacle of Henry Cal- verly—in spotless white and blue, with the mustache and the stick—had irritated him. Deeply. A boy who couldn’t earn eight dollars a week parading Simpson Street in that rig on a week-day morning! He felt strongly that Henry had no business sticking out that way above the village level. The con- ceited young chump! Ought to be chucked into a factory somewhere. Stoke a furnace. Carry boxes. Work with his hands. Get down to brass tacks and see if he had any stuff in him. Doubtful. Mr. Boice made a low sound, a wheezy sound between a grunt and a hum, as he handed his hat to the black, muscular, bullet-headed grinning Pinkie Potter, who specialized in hats and shoes in Sunbury’s leading barber shop. He made another sound that was quite a grunt as he sank into the red-plush barber-chair of Heinie Schultz. His massive frame was clumsy, and the twinges of lumbago, varied by touches of neuritis, that had come steadily upon him since middle life added to the difficulties of moving it about. He always made these sounds. ; Heinie Schultz, who was straw-colored, thin, listessly “patient (Bill Schwartz was the noisy, fat one) knew that the thick, vellowish gray hair was to be cut round in the back and the neck shaved beneath it. The beard was to be trimmed delicately, reverently—‘not cut, just the rags taken off ”’—and combed out. Heinie had attended to this hair and beard for sixteen years. A thin man of about thirty-five entered the shop, tossed his hat to’ Pinkie, and dropped into Bill Schwartz's chair next to the win- dow. The newcomer had straight brown hair, worn a little long over . ears and collar. His face was freckled, a little pinched, nervously alert. Behind his gold-rimmed spectacles, his small sharp eyes ap- peared to be darting this way and that, keen, penetrating through ‘the ordinary com- fortable surfaces of life. This was Robert A. McGibbon, editor and proprietor of the Sunbury Weekly . Gleaner. He had appeared in the Chad | | \\ ‘ | 4. i / - YL |
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uy She was pressing her finger to her lips and shaking her head village hardly six months back with a little money—enough, at least, to buy the presses, give a little for good-will, as- sume the rent and the few business debts that Nicholas Simms Godfrey had been able to contract before his health broke, and to pay his own board at the Wombast’s on Fil- bert Avenue. His appearance in local journalism had created a new tension in the village. Mr. Boice, when face to face with Robert A. McGibbon on the street, inclined his head to him as to others. But up and down the street, his barely expressed disapproval of the man was felt to have a root in feelings and traditions infinitely deeper than the mere natural antagonism to a fresh competitor in the local field. For McGibbon was—the term was a new one that had caught the popular imagination and was worming swiftly into the American language—a “‘yellow” journalist. He had worked, he boasted openly, on a sensationally new daily in New York. In the once staid old Gleaner, he used bold- faced headings, touched with irritating acumen on scandal, assailed the ruling political triumvirate, and made the paper generally fascinating as well as irritating. Asa result, 65 he was picking up subscribers rapidly. Advertising, of course, was another matter. And Boice had all the vil- lage and county printing. The political triumvirate men- tioned above was composed of Boice himself, Charles H. Waterhouse, town clerk, and Mr. Weston, of the Sun- bury National Bank. For a decade, their rule had not been questioned along the street. The other really prominent men of Sunbury all had their business interests in Chicago, and, at that time, used the village merely for sleeping and as a point of departure for the very new golf-links. The experience of withstanding vulgar attacks was new to the trium- virate (McGibbon referred to them always as the “Old Cinch”). The Gleaner had come out for annexation to Chicago. It demanded an audit of Charlie Waterhouse’s town-accounts by a new, politically disinterested group. It accused the bank of with- holding proper support from men of whom old Boice disapproved. It de- manded a share of the village printing. The “Old Cinch” were taking these attacks in silence, as beneath their notice. They took pains, how- ever, in casual mention of the new force in town, to refer to him always asa“ Democrat.” This damned him with many. Hecalled himself an “In- dependent.” Which amused Charlie Waterhouse greatly. Everybody knew that a man who wasn’t a decent Republican had to be a Democrat. In the nature of things.” And they were waiting for his money and > his energy to give out——giving him, as Charlie Waterhouse jovially put it, “the rope to hang himself with.” Bill Schwartz took McGibbon’s spectacles, tucked the towel round his scrawny neck, lathéred chin and cheeks, and seizing his head firmly in a strong right hand, turned it sidewise on the head-rest. McGibbon lay there a moment, studying the yellowish white whiskers that waved upward above the towel in the next chair. Bill stropped his razor. “How are you, Mr. Boice?”” McGibbon observed, quite cheerfully. Mr. Boice made a sound, raised his head an inch. Heinie promptly pushed it down. “Quite a story you had last week about the musicale at Mrs. Arthur V. Henderson’s.” : Mr. Boice lay motionless. What was up? Distinctly odd that either journal should be mentioned between them. Bad taste. He made another sound. “Who wrote it?” No answer. “Henry Calverly?” A grunt. “Thought so.”” McGibbon chuckled. Mr. Boice twisted his head around, trying to see the fellow in the mirror. Heinie pulled it back. “Got it here. Hand me my glasses, Bill, will you? Thanks.” McGibbon was sitting up, his face all lather, digging in his pocket. He produced a clipping. Read aloud, with gusto: “Mme. Stelton’s art has deepened and broadened appreciably since she last appeared in Sunbury. Always gifted with a splendid singing organ, always charming in personality and profoundly, rhythmi- Samuel Merwin = j "4 j | if \S Fy
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66 The Stimulant cally musical in temperament, she now has added a superstructure of technical authority which gives to each passage, whether bravura or pianissimo, a quality and distinction——” McGibbon was momentarily choked by his own almost noiseless laughter. Bill pushed his head down and went swiftly to work on his right cheek. Two other customers had come in. “Great stuff that!’’ observed McGibbon cautiously, under the razor. ‘“‘Profoundly, rhythmically musical in temperament!’ ‘A superstructure of technical authority!’ Great! Fine! That boy’ll do something yet. Handled right. Wish he was working for me.” Mr. Boice, from whom sounds had been coming for several moments, now raised his voice. “Well,” he roared, huskily, ‘‘what in thunder’s the mat- ter with that?” Just then, Bill turned McGibbon’s head the other way. He, too, raised his voice. But cheerfully. “Nothing much. Nice lot o’ words. Only, Mrs. Stelton wasn’t at the musicale. Sprained her ankle in the Chicago station on the way out.” Bill Schwartz had a trumpetlike Prussian voice. situation seemed to him to contain the elements of humor. He laughed boisterously. Heinie Schultz, more politic, tittered softly, shears against mouth. Pinkie Potter laughed convulsively and beat out an intricate ragtime tattoo on his bootblack’s stand with his long whisk-broom. It was Mr. Boice’s fixed habit to go on toward noon to the post- office. To-day, he returned to the Voice office. He seated himself at his desk for a quarter-hour, doing nothing. He had-the faculty of sitting still, ruminating. Finally, he reached out for the two-foot rule that always lay on his desk and care- fully measured a certain article in last week’s paper. Then dida little figuring with a pencil. He rose, moved toward the door, turned, and remarked to the wondering Humphrey: “Take fifteen inches off Henry's string this week, Weaver. A dol- lar’n’ five cents. Be at the post- office if anybody wants me.” And went out. The Humphrey himself measured Henry’s arti- cle on the musicale. Old Boice had been accurate enough; it came to an even fifteen inches. Which, at seven cents an inch, would be one dollar and five cents. When Henry reappeared and together they set out for lower Chestnut Avenue, Humphrey found he hadn't the heart to break this fresh disappoint- ment to his friend. He decided to let it drift until the Saturday. Something might turn up. Henry’s.mood had changed. He had leit the office, an hour earlier, looking like a discouraged boy. Now he was serious, silent, hard to talk to. He seemed three years older. He was strung up. Plainly. He walked very fast, striding intently forward. At Mrs. Henderson’s, Henry was grave and curiously attractive. He had charm, no doubt of it—a sort of charm that women—older women—felt. Mildred Henderson distinctly played up tohim. And Corinne, Humphrey noted, watched him now and then, the quietly observant keenness in her big dark eyes masked by her easy, lazy smile. An almost exuberantly pretty girl, Corinne. You felt her presence in a room. Toward the close of luncheon, Henry’s evident inner tension showed signs of taking the form of gaiety. He acted like a young man wholly sure of himself. When they threw down their napkins and pushed back their chairs, he said, with an apparently easy arrogance back of his grin: “Hump, you’ve got to be going back so soon we're going to give you and Mildred the living-room. We'll wash the dishes.” Humphrey noted the little quick snap of amusement in Mrs. Henderson’s eyes (Henry had not before openly used her first name) and the almost demure, expressionless look that came over Corinne’s face.. Neither was displeased. To Mrs. Henderson’s ‘“‘ You'll do no such thing!” Henry responded smilingly: “T won’t be contradicted. Not to-day.” Mrs. Henderson, now frankly amused, asked, “Why not to-day, Henry?” “Oh, I don’t know. Just the way I feel,” said he, and ushered her with mock politeness into the front room, then, gallantly, almost nonchalantly, took the elbow of the un- resisting Corinne and.ushered her toward the kitchen. Mildred and Corinne fed him and petted him while smoked cigarette after cigarette, and studied Humphrey lit a cigarette and watched them go. Then, with a slight heightening of his usually sallow color, followed his hostess into the living-room. It will be evident to the reader that among these four young persons, rather casually thrown together in the first instance, something of an ‘“‘understanding” had grown up. It had begun when Mrs. Henderson and her pretty guest had slipped quietly up to Humphrey’s rooms (back of the old Parmenter p!ace) for a picnic supper. There had been ‘4 . ~ i 1 ee
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a furtive sort of delight about the experience, the sense of exciting variety in humdrum village life, the very real and lively pleasure of exploring fresh personalities. It was, of course, amore significant evening in the life of each than they realized at the time. Excepting, perhaps, Corinne. Of late years, looking back, it has seemed to me that Mildred Henderson never really belonged in Sunbury, where a woman’s whole duty lay in keeping house economically and as pleasantly as might be for the husband who spent Humphrey drew a big chair into the dining-room, the brightening, expanding youth before him days in Chicago or “gn the road.” And in bearing and rearing his children. I never knew anything of her earlier life, before Arthur V. Henderson brought her to the modest house on Chestnut Avenue. I never could figure why she married him at all. Marriages are made in so many places besides heaven! He used to like to hear her play. In those days and a little later, I judged her much as the village judged her—peering out at her through the gun- ports in the armor-plate of self-righteousness that is the Samuel dol | {iz Merwin 67 strong defense of every suburban community. But now I feel that her real mistake lay in waiting so long before drifting to her proper environment in New York. Like all of us, she had, sooner or later, to work out her life in its own terms or die alive of an atrophied spirit. She had gifts, and needed, doubtless, to express them. I can see her now as she was in Sunbury during those years—little, trim, slim, with a quick, alert smile and snappy eyes. Not a beautiful woman, perhaps, not even an out-and-out pretty one, but curiously attractive. She had much of what men call ‘‘personality.””. And she was efficient in her own wav. She never let ' +r musical gift rust; practised every day of her life, I think, including Sundays. Which was one of the things Sunbury held against her. Humphrey, too, was using Sunbury as little more than a stop-gap. We knew that, sooner or later, he would strike his gait as an inventor. Hewas quiet about it. Much thought, deep plans lav back of that long, wrin- kly face. While he kept at it, he was a conscien- tious country editor. But his heart wasin his library of technical books, and in his surprisingly complete workshop on the ground floor of the old Parmen- ter barn. He must have put just about all of his little inheritance into the place. Until Mildred Henderson came into his life, he had been, so far as we knew, a recluse, jealous of his solitary evenings and Sundays. He had seemed a born bachelor. But, from the first, Mildred stirred him. Probably because she had a quick imagination. She liked his quizzical reticence, and she really seemed to delight in the gloomy shop with its lathes and belts and kites and gyroscopes and shelves of tools. Corinne Doag was dis- tinctly a city person. And she was a real singer, _ with ambition anda firm, even hard purpose; I can see now, back of the languorous dusky eyes and the wide, slow smile that Henry was not then man enough to understand. In those days, more than in the present, a girl with a strong sense of identity was taught to hide it scrupulously. It was still the century of Queen Victoria. The life of any live girl had to be a rather elaborate pretense of something it distinctly was not. For which we, looking back, can hardly blame her. Besides, Corinne was young, healthy, glowing with a quietly exuberant sense of life. [ imagine she founda sort of pure joy, an animal joy, in playing with men and life. She wasn’t dishonest. She certainly liked Henry. Particularly to-day. But this was the sum- mer-time. She was playing. And she liked to be thrilled. An hour later, could Humphrey have glanced into the butler’s pantry, he would have concluded, with many wrinklings of his long face, that he (Continued on page 96) | | RS be, An | | | 2) =
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HIS article concerns men, but it concerns women more. When citizens begin to learn, through news- papers and general rumor, that voluntary wa¥- work is afoot,and that volunteers are badly wanted and that there is work for all who love their country, then those who love their country are at once sharply divided into two classes—the people to whom the work comes, and the people who have to go out to seek the work. The former are the people of prominent social position; the latter are the re- mainder of the population. The prominent persons will see work rolling up to their front doors in quantities huge enough to overthrow the entire house. The remainder will look out of the window and see nothing at all unusual in the street. They are then apt to say: “This is very odd. There is much work to do. I am ready to do my share. Why doesn’t somebody come along and ask me to do it?” And they feel rather hurt at the neglect, and finally thev sigh, “Well, if no one gives me anything to do, of course I can’t do anything.” Such an attitude would be quite reasonable if society was like a telephone-exchange and anybody could get pre- cisely the person he or she was after. But society not being like a telephone-exchange, the attitude is unreasonable. Patriots cannot expect the organizers of war-work to run up and down streets knocking at doors and crying, “Come; you are the very woman I need!” However much urgent war-work is waiting to be done, nine-tenths of the in- dividuals who are anxious to do it will have to put themselves to a certain amount of trouble in order to discover the work, perhaps to a great deal of trouble. Having located the work, they may even have almost to beg for the privilege of doing it. Again they are rather hurt. They demand, why should they go on their knees? They are not asking a favor. A woman will say: “I went and offered my services. And 63 ome Axioms By Arnold Decoration by he looked at me as if I was a doubtful character, and you never heard such a cross-examination as Thad to gothrough! It was most humiliating.” True! . True! But could she reasonably expect the cross-ex- interest in the public mind aminer to see into the inside of lief work. Everyone is her head? The first use and the and naturally wants his ef- last use of the gift of speech is to. highest advantage. There ask questions. Moreover, re- of going about this work, spected madam, it is quite prob- toward it that make for effi- able that the cross-examinér was and it is most necessary, a bit suspicious, and that his them: In selecting this manner was simply due to dum- Cosmopolitan articles, Mr. foundedness, to mere inability to, given us some real help believe that so ideal a person as, statement of several of the vourself had, so to speak, fallen which the experience of his from heaven straight into his net. right foundation of this And further, respected madam, are not you yourself suspicious? If the cross-examiner had’ come to you, instead of you going to him, might not your first thought have been: ‘‘ What advantage is he trying to gain by coming to me? [I shall say, ‘No.’” If it is true that people who ask for work are stared at, it is equally true that people who are asked to work also stare—a little haughtily. And when the latter graciously promise assist- ance, they often say to themselves, “I shall do as little as I can, because I’m not going to be taken advantage of.” And they almost invariably end by doing more than they can and by insisting on being taken advantage of. Human There is probably no subject .
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War-Work nature is mean; but it is also Bennett W. T. Benda Axiom: The preliminary trouble and weariness and annoyance inci- dental to getting the work are them- selves a necessary and inevitable of more universal and eager to-day than that of war-re- anxious to do something, forts to be expended to the are, of course, certain ways certain mental attributes Il ciency and the best. results, first of all, to understand topic for the second of his Bennett has, we think, through the deduction and broad, general principles to own country points asthe fine and patriotic service. bandaging the brows of heroes. Lire is a continual passage from one illusion to another. No sooner has the eager, volunteer found out that the desire to help is apt to be treated as evidence of acriminal disposition, and that war-work is as shy as deer in the depths of a forest; no sooner has he or she discovered these things than yet another discovery destroys yet another illusion. The war-work, when brought to bay and caught, is not the right kind of war-work. You —for I may as well admit that I am talking direct to the eager volunteer—you had expected something else. This war-work that presents itself is either beneath your powers or it is beyond your powers, or it is unsuited to your indi- viduality or to your social station or to your health or to ‘your hands or feet. You can'scarcely say what you had expected, but, at any rate, I will tell you what you had expected. You had expected the ideal—work that showed part of war-work, just as much as* you at your best, picturesque work, interesting work, work tree from monotony, work of which you could see the im- mediate, beautiful results, work which taxed you without overtaxing you, really important work, without the moral risks attaching to real responsibility. Such was the work you expected, and the chances are ten to one that the work vou have actually got is dull, monotonous, apparently futile. Any fool could do it, though it is exhausting and incon- venient; or, on the other hand, it is, while dull and monot- onous, too exacting for a well-intentioned, mediocre brain like yours (you don’t actually mean that, but you try to be modest)—in short, it is not suitable work. Axiom: There is not enough suitable work to go round, nor the thousandth part of what would be enough. Unsuitable- ness is a characteristic of nearly all war-work. Lowering your great powers down or forcing your little powers up to the level of the work offered—this, too, is part of war-work. ll AGAIN, you have to get away from the illusion that you can live a new life and still keep on living the old life. Everybody, as has somewhere been stated, possesses twenty-four hours in each day. Everybody occupies every one of his twenty-four hours. You do, though you may think you don’t. If you do not occupy them in labor, then you occupy them in idleness; if not in usefulness, then in futility. Now idleness and futility are much more difficult to expel from hours which they have appropriated than labor and usefulness are difficult to expel. But if war-work is brought in, something will have to be expelled. Habits of labor and usefulness are sometimes hard enough to change; habits of idleness and futility are still harder. If you were pieviously spending your afternoons in giving and accept- ing elaborate afternoon teas, you will (Continued on page 106) 69 =| = |
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TEPHANIE QUEST, after the death of her well- connected but worth- less parents, is taken, at the age of eleven, into the home of John Cleland, a wealthy New Yorker, a widower with an only son, Jim. As she grows up, it seemsto Cleland that the girl shows considerable latent talent, but for what he cannot determine. She daes not care for society, and de- velops some radical ideas on the inde- pendence of women and their right to lead what life they wish. Cleland dies when she is eighteen; Jim goes abroad for two years, to study and observe life with the idea of writing fiction,andStephanie after taking a course in hospital nursing, becomes so attracted to the bohemian life of a certain type of New York artist that she takes a studio - with a friend, Helen Davis, an animal- sculptor. With lega- cies from Cleland and a wealthy aunt, she now enjoys a considerable income. After nearly three years’ residence in Paris, Jim receives a cable from Stephanie saying that she has married Oswald Grismer, a college-mate of his, who has taken up sculpture. Oswald’s father was the uncle of Stephanie’s mother. Jim, who now believes that he himself is in love with the girl, returns home. He finds an unusual state of things existing. Stephanie has kept her own name and has not yet lived with Grismer as his wife. She says she will not do so until she is sure she loves him. She thinks she will know after a year or two. Apparently she has married him because he has lost his money and is in straitened{circumstances. Cleland’s arrival is coincident with the Ball of the Gods, and he attends it, meeting many old friends including Philip Grayson, now a writer of promise, John Belter, Clarence Verne, Bad- ger Spink, as well as Grismer, whom he treats some- what coldly. Stephanie appears to be annoyed at the attention Cleland pays other women. HALL, we have some supper?” Oswald asked. ‘“*¥here is it? Oh, down there! What a stuffy place! Couldn’t you get something here?” He managed to bribe cone perspiring and dis- tracted waiter, and, after a long while, he brought a tray towering with salads, ices, and bottles. Helen and Philip Grayson came back, and the former immediately revealed a healthy appetite. “Don’t you want anything to eat, Steve?” she inquired. “T’m not hungry.” “You seem to be thirsty,”’ remarked Helen, looking at the girl’s flushed face and her half-filled wine-glass. ‘Where is Jim?” “Dancing.” “With whom?” 70 A key rattled in the lock; she sprang to her feet. Helen the halway. “Come in, everybody!” she cried. “Some girl of sorts whom he picked up,” said Stephanie, and the pink flush in her face deepened angrily. “Was she worth it?” inquired Helen, frankly amused. Stephanie’s cheeks cooled; she replied cazelessly: “She had button-eyes and a snub nose, and her attire was transparent—if that interests you.” She rested her elbow on the edge of the box, supporting her chin on her ‘cupped palm. They were dancing again. Grayson came and took out Helen; a number of men arrived, clamoring for Stephanie. John Belter said: “What’s the trouble, Steve? before in all my life!” “T’m not glum,” she said, with a forced laugh; “I’m thirsty. Isn’t that enough to sadden any girl?” Later, Helen, returning from the floor, paused beside Stephanie to bend over her and whisper: “Jack Belter is behaving like a fool. Don’t take any- thing more, Steve.” The girl lifted her flushed face. “T feel like flinging discretion into the ‘fire of spring,’”’ she said. Excitement burned in her pink cheeks and wide gray eyes, and she stood up in the box looking about her, poised lightly as some slim-winged thing on the verge of taking flight. Grismer rose, too, and whispered to her, but she made a slight, impatient movement with her shoulders. ““Won’t you dance this with me?” he repeated. “No,” she said, under her breath; “you annoy me, Oswald.” “What!” I never saw you glum COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY INTERNATIONAL MAGAZINE COMPANY * | ie | q 2
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came in, and she saw Grayson and Grismer standing in “Shall we have breakfast before we part?” “Please don’t be quite so devoted—I’m restless.” She turned and started to leave the box. The others were leaving, too, for dancing had begun again. But at the steps she parted with the little company, they descend- ing to the floor, she turning to mount the steps alone. “Where on earth are you going, Steve?” called back Helen, halting on the steps below. “T want to see the floor from the top gallery,” replied Stephanie, without turning; and she ran lightly upward, her bells and bangles jingling. At three in the morning, the Ball of the Gods.was in full and terrific blast and still gathering momentum. A vast musical uproar filled the Garden; the myriad lights glit- tered like jewels through a fog; the dancing-floor was a bewildering, turbulent whirlpool of color. With Lady Button-eyes on his arm, Cleland had threaded his way into the supper-room, where the gods, demigods, and heroes were banqueting most riotously. It was becoming very rapidly a dubiously mixed affair. Bacchus, with his noisy crew, invaded the supper-room and pronounced Cleland’s snub-nosed, button-eyed god- dess ‘tray chick,” and there arose immediately a terrific tumult around her—gods and satyrs doing battle for her; but she persisted in her capricious fancy for Cleland. He, however, remained in two minds: one was to abandon Button-eyes, retire, and find Stephanie again, in spite of the ever-smoldering resentment he felt for Grismer; the other was to teach himself without loss of time to keep away from her, school himself to do without her, preoccupy him- self casually and recklessly with anything that might aid (COSMOPOLITAN MAGAZINE) COPYRIGHTED IN GREAT BRITAIN The Restless Sex A Chronicle of Insurgent Youth By Robert W. Chambers Illustrated by W. D. Stevens —with this snub-nosed one, for example. The desire to see Stephanie remained, never- theless, sometimes fiercely importunate, some- times sullenly persistent—seemingly out of all proportion to any sentiment he had ever ad- mittedly entertained for her—out of proportion, also, to his sulky resentment at the folly she had committed with Oswald Grismer. For, after all, if she ultimately married Gris- mer in the orthodox way, her eccentric prenuptial behavior was nothing more serious than eccen- tric. And if she didn’t, then it meant annul- ment or divorce; and he realized that nobody outside of the provinces paid any attention to such episodes nowadays. And nobody cared what clodhoppers thought about anything. His buttori-eyed goddess had a pretty good soprano voice, and she was using it now, persuaded into a duet by Belter. Cleland looked at her sideways without enthusiasm, undecided, irritated, and gloomy. She was Broadway vulgarity personified. Badger Spink dropped onto a chair on the other side of him, yawned, and gazed around, the satyr’s horn emerging from his thick, wavy pompadour hair, accentuating his clever saturnine features. His expression was _ slightly satanic always. “What do you think of this sort of thing in New York, Cleland?” he said. ‘‘We’re drifting toward Babylon. That’s the trend since the dance-craze swept this moral nation off its moral feet into a million tango-joints.”’ “There’s something the matter with us; that’s sure,” said Cleland. “This sort of thing doesn’t belong in the New World.” “Tt’s up to our overrated American women,” sneered Spink. ‘Only a few years ago we were slobbering over them, worshiping them, painting pictures of them—pictures in- fluenced by the French naturalistic school—a lot of cow- faced American females suckling their young. Everybody was yelling for the simple life, summoning the nation back to nature, demanding that babies be produced in every family by the dozen, extolling procreation, and lauding the American woman. That’s the sort of female we celebrated and pretended to want. Now look what we’ve got—a nation of dancing dolls! A herd of restless, brainless, ag- gressive, impudent women, proclaiming defiance and snapping their fingers at us! : ‘*T tell you there burns here in the Garden to-night some- thing more than the irresponsible gaiety of a lot of artists and philistine pleasure-seekers. The world is on the verge 71 in obliterating his desire for her companionship’ | & ad | | | | |
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72 The Restless Sex of something terrifying; the restlessness of a universal fever is in its veins. Our entire human social structure is throb- bing with it; every symptom is ominousof social collapse and a complete disintegration of the old order of civilization!” “What’s your other name, Spink—Jeremiah?” asked Cleland, laughing. “No. I’m merely on my favorite topic. Listen to me, my young friend: All England faces strikes and political anarchy in Ireland and India; the restless sex is demanding its rights in London and menacing the empire. France, betrayed by one of the restless ones, strangling in the clutch of scandal, is standing bewildered by the roar of the pro- letariat; Russia seethes internally, watching the restless empress and her accursed priest out of millions of snaky Asiatic eyes; China splits open from end to end and vomits forth its dynasty on the tomb of the dead dowager; Austria watches for the death of an old, old widower—an imperial mummy long since dead in mind and spirit. Germany, who uses the lesser sex for breeding only, stare> stolidly out of piglike eyes at the imperial litter of degenerates and defectives dropped with stolid regularity to keep the sty- supply of Hohenzollerns unimpaired. Only radicals like myself feel the cataclysmic waves deep under the earth, symptomatic, ominous of profound and vital readjust- “ments already under way. ‘And here, in our once great republic of the West, the fever of universal unrest is becoming apparent in this nation-wide movement for suffrage. State after state becomes a battle-ground and surrenders; accepted standards are shattered; the old social order and balance between the sexes—all the established formalism and belief of a man- constructed status—totters as door and gate and avenue and byway are insanely flung open to the mindless invasion of the restless sex. Don’t stop me, Cleland; I am mag- nificent to-night. Listen: I tell you that political equality, equal opportunity, absolute personal liberty are practically in sight for women. What more is left? Conscious of the itching urge of its constitutional inclination to fuss and fidget, the restless sex, fundamentally gallinaceous, con- tinues to wander on into bournes beyond its ken, henlike, errant, pensively picking at the transcendentally unat- tainable, but always in motion—motion as mechanical and meaningless as the negative essence cf cosmic inertia. Now I’m tiirough with you, Cleland. Thanks for listening. I don’t think I want your goddess, after all. She looks too much like a tip-up snipe!” And he took himself off, yawning. The rushing din of the orchestra far below came up softened to Stephanie’s ears, where she stood at the rail of the topmost gallery and looked down into the glimmering depths of the Ball of all the Gods. Her jeweled fingers rested on the rail; her slender body pressed against it; she stood with bent head, gazing down into the vortex, pensive, somberly preoccupied with an indefinable anger that possessed her. She turned restiessly and went up into the corridor. A dryad was performing flip-flaps there, and a gale of laughter and applause arose from her comrades watching her in a semicircle. The Olympians, too, all seemed to have gathered there for a frolic—Zeus, Hermes, the long-legged Astarte, the amazingly realistic Aphrodite, and Eros, more realistic still —all clasping hands and dancing a ring-around-a-rosy, while Bacchus and Ariadne in the center performed a breakdown which drew frantic shouts of approval from the whirling ring. Then, in this hilarious circle, Stephanie caught sight of the snub-nose and transparent raiment of the button-eyed Goddess of Night, and next her, hand clasping hand, she recognized Cleland as another link in the rapidly rotating ring. Suddenly the mad dance broke up and flew into fragments, scattering its reeling, panting devotees into prancing couples in every direction. And straight into this wild confusion stepped Stephanie, her pretty eyes brilliant with wrath, her face a trifle pale. “Jim!” He let go of Lady Button-eyes in astonishment and turned round. Stephanie said very coolly, “Tf you’re going to raise the devil, raise him with me, please.” Lady Button-eyes was not pleased, and she showed it by stamping, which alone had sufficiently fixed her level if she had not also placed both handson her hips and laughed scornfully when Cleland took leave of her and walked over to Stephanie. “Where are the others?” he inquired, rather red at being discovered with such a crew. ‘You’re not alone, are you, Steve?” “Not now,” she said sweetly, and passed her left arm through his and clasped her right hand over it. “Now,” she said, with an excited little laugh, ‘I am ready to raise the devil with you. Take me wherever you like,. Jim.” The insulted gods gazed upon her with astonishment as she lifted her small head and sent an indifferent glance like an arrow at random among them. Then, not further notic- ing them, and absolutely inuifferent to the button-eyed one, she strolled leisurely out of Olympus with her slightly disconcerted captive and disappeared from their view along the southern corridor. But once out of their range of vision, her hot wrath returned. “Tt was abominable,” she said, in a low, tense voice, “vour going off that way, when I told you the whole eve- ning would be spoiled for me without you! I am hurt and angry, Jim.” But his smoldering wrath also flickered into flame now. “You had Grismer, didn’t you?” he said. ‘‘What do you care whether I am with you or not?” “What do you mean? Yes; of course I had him. What has that to do with you?” He replied, with light insolence: “Nothing. I’m not your husband.” His words fell like a blow. She caught her breath with the hurt of them; then, “Ts that why you have avoided me?” she demanded, in a tone of such concentratec passion that the unexpected flare- up startled him. “Why are you indifferent? Why are— are you unkind?” she stammered. ‘I’ve just found you again after all these years, haven’t I? I—I can’t stand it—to have you unkind—indifferent—to have you leave me this «7ay——” “T didn’t leave you,” he retorted sullenly. “You went away with—the man you married——” “Don’t speak of him that way!” she interrupted hotly. “Nobody speaks of that affair at all.” “Why not? You did marry him, didn’t you?” “What of it?” she flamed back. “Why do you refer to it? It’s my personal affair, anyway.” He. turned toward her, exasperated. “Tf you think,” he said, “that your® behavior with Grismer means nothing to me, you’d better undeceive your- self—or I'll do it for you in a -way you can’t mistake.” “Undeceive me?” she repeated uneasily. “How?” “By making a fight for you myself,” he said; “by doing my best to get you back.” “T don’t know what you mean, Jim,” she said, her gray eyes intent on his flushed face. ‘Do you believe you have been insulted by what I did? Is that what you mean?” He did not answer. They walked on, slowly pacing the deserted corridor. Her head was lowered now. “‘T—didn’t suppose you’d take—what I did—that way,” she said unsteadily. ‘I—respect and love you. I supposed I was at liberty—to dispose of—myself. I didn’t imagine you cared—very much.” Suddenly he freed his arm from her clasped fingers and passed it round her waist, and she caught her breath and placed her hand tightly over his to hold it there.
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DRAWN BY W. D. STEVENS She laughed happily, yielding confidently to his embrace, responding swiftly and adorably and with a frank unreserve that told a more innocent story than his close caress and boyish heart on fire confirmed LE 4 i 4 { ; ; { | | i J d > ‘
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74 The Restless Sex “You adorable boy!” she whispered. “Am I forgiven? And you do care for me, don’t you, Jim?” “Care for you?” he repeated in a low, men- acing voice. “I care for nobody else in the world, Steve. That’s all that’s the matter with me.” She laughed happily, yielding confidently to his embrace, responding swiftly and adorably and with a frank un- reserve that told a more innocent story than his close caress and boyish heart on fire confirmed. “T love vou,” he said. “T want you back. .Vow do you understand, Steve? I love you! I love you!” Confused, crushed hotly in. his embrace, she stared blankly at him for one dizzy in- stant; then, in silence, she twisted her supple body backward and aside, and with both nervous hands broke loose the circle of his arms. They were both rather white now; her breath came and went irregularly, checked in her throat with a little sob at intervals. She leaned back against the wall, one jeweled hand against her breast, looking aside and away from where he stood. F “T told you,” he said unsteadily. She remained silent, keeping her gaze resolutely averted. ‘‘ You under- stand now, don’t you, that I am in Jove with you, Steve?” He caught her in his arms again. “Let me go, Jim!” “Do you believe me?” “T don’t want to!” Suddenly she turned terribly white in his arms, swayed a moment against him. He released her, steadied her; she passed one arm through his, leaning heavily on him. “Are you faint, Steve?” he whispered. “A—little. It’s nothing. The air here is stifling. I’m —tired.” She dropped her head against his shoulder. Her lids were half closed as they descended the steps, he guiding her. It seemed to her an interminable descent. She felt as though she were falling through space into a glittering, roaring abyss. In their box sat Helen and Grayson, gos- siping gaily together and waiting for another dance to begin. Cleland warned Stephanie in a whisper, and she lifted her head and straightened up with an effort. She said mechanically, “I’m going home; I’m very tired.” Helen and Grayson rose, and the former came toward her inquiringly. Stephanie smiled. ‘Jim will take me back,” she said. “Don’t let me dis- tur your pleasure. And tell Oswald I was very sleepy. And not to come to the studio for a day or two. Good- night, dear.” She made a humorously tired little gesture of farewell She went on modeling. apparently amused by her “Where is Stephanie?” he inquired, after a slight pause own analysis. to Grayson also, and, taking Cleland’s arm again, sauntered with him toward the lobby. Her car, a toy limousine, was ultimately found. Cle- land redeemed his overcoat and her wrap. When he came back to her, she smiled at him, suffered him to swathe her in the white-silk cloak, and, laying her dainty hand lightly on his sleeve, went out with him into the lamp-lit gray of dawn. “You are feeling better?” he said, as they seated them- selves in the limousine and the little car rolled away south- ward. “Yes. It was the stifling atmosphere there, I suppose.” “Tt was horribly close,’ he assented. They remained silent for a while. Then, abruptly, “Have I made you angry, Steve?” he asked. She looked up and laughed. “You adorable boy!” she said. “You don’t mind if I’m in love with you?” he asked. “T haven’t any mind. I can’t seem to think. But I don’t think you’d better kiss me until I collect my senses again. Please don’t, Jim.” They became silent again until the car drew up before her door. She had two keys in her cloak pocket; she paused to give the chauffeur an order, turning to ask Cleland whether he didn’t want the car to take him to his hotel. | : / ‘4
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Robert W. Chambers 75 “Thanks; it’s only a step. I’d rather walk.” So the car drove away. Cieland opened the front door for her, then her own studio door. She felt round the corner in the darkness and switched on the electric bulb in a standing lamp. ‘““Good-night, Steve,” he said, taking her hand in both of his. “‘Good-night—unless you care to talk to me for a little while.” “Tt’s four o’clock in the morning.” “T can’t sleep—I know that.” He said, in a low voice: “Besides, I am very much in love with you. I think I had better go back.” “Oh—do you think so?” “Don’t you?” “TI told you that I haven’t recovered enough sense to think.” She crossed the threshold and walked into the studio, dropping her cloak across a chair, and presently halted be- fore the empty fire- place, gazing into its smoke- blackened depths. Then she turned her charming young head and looked across at him where he stood on the threshold. “What do you think?” she said. “Ought you to go?” “T ought to. But I don’t think I shall.” ““No; don’t go,” she said, witha littlelaugh. * After all, if we’re not to remain brother and sister any longer, there’s a most. fasci- nating novelty in your being here.” He came in and closed the door. She made room for him on the sofa, and hé flung his coat across her cloak and seated him- self. “Steve,” he said, “I don’t know what to do about it. I’m falling more deeply in love with you every mo- ment; and you are merely kind and sweet and friendly about it. You might find it in your heart to re- spond.” “How can my heart hold any more of you than it does and al- ways has?” she asked, with pretty impa- tience. “Can't you love me?” “T don’t know how to any more than I do.” “But you did not find it agreeable when I kissed you.” ““T—don’t know what I felt. We always kissed.” She began to laugh. “I enjoyed that; but I don’t think you did- -always. You sometimes looked rather bored, Jim.” “T’m getting well paid back,” he said. This seemed to afford her infinite delight; there was mal- ice in her gray eyes now, and a hint of pretty mockery in her laughter. “To think,” she said, “that James Cleland should ever become sentimental with poor little Stephanie Quest! What an unbending! What condescension! What a come-down! Oh, Jim, if I’ve really got you at last, I’m going to raise the very devil with you!” “You're doing it.” “Am I? I hope Iam. I mean to torment you. Why, when I think of the long, long years of childish adoration and awe—of the days when I tagged after you, grateful to be noticed, thankful when you found time for me—’’ She clapped her hands together delightedly, enchanted with his glum and reddening face. For what she said was the truth; he knew it, though she did not realize how true it had been —and meant merely to exaggerate. ‘‘Also,” she said, ‘you WHS Vy } 3 4 - | ‘+t Me 4 i adits 4 4 | | 4
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76 The Restless Sex could take up the rugs and dance while the coffee is boiling. leave me quite alone for three whole years when you could have come back at the end of two!” His face darkened and he bit his lip. “You're quite right,” he said, in a quiet voice. “A girl couldn’t very well fall in love with that sort of man.” There was a silence. She had been enjoying her re- venge, but she had not expected him to take it so seriously. He sat there with lowered head, considering, gnawing at his underlip in silence. She had not intended to hurt him. She was inexperienced enough with him to be worried. His features seemed older, Jeaner, full of unfa- miliar shadows, disturbingly aloof and stern. She hesitated—the swift, confused memory of an hour before checking her for an instant; then she leaned toward him, quite certain of what would happen—-silent and curious as he drew her into his arms. She was very silent, too, listening to his impetuous, broken avowal, suffer- ing his close embrace, his lips on her eyes and mouth and throat. The enormous novelty of it preoccupied her, the intense interest in his state of mind. Her curiosity held her spellbound, too, and unresponsive but fascinated. She lay very quietly in his arms, her lovely head resting on his shoulder, some- times with eyes closed, sometimes watching him, meeting his eyes with a faint smile. The gray tranquillity of her eyes, vir- ginal and clear, the pulseless quiet of the girl chilled him. “You don’t love me, Steve, do you?” “Not—as you—wish me to.” “Cant you?” “T don’t know.” “Ts there any chance?” She looked out across the studio, con- sidering, and her gray eyes grew vague and remote. “T don’t know, Jim. I think that some- thing has been left out of me—whatever itis. I don’t know how to love—fall in love—as you wish me to. I don’t know how to go about it. Perhaps it’s because I’ve never thought about it. It’s never occupied my mind.” “Then,” he burst out, “how in God’s name did you ever come to marry?” She looked up at him gravely: “That is very different,” she said. “Then you are in love with him?” “TI told you that he fascinates me.” * “Ts it love?” he asked violently. “T don’t know.” “You must know! You've got a mind.” “Tt doesn’t explain what I feel for him. into words.” He drew her roughly to him. “Can’t you love me, Steve? mered. “I—want to. I wish I did—the way you want me to.” “Will you try?” “T don’t know how to try.” “Do your lips on mine mean nothing to you?” “Yes—you are so dear. I am wonderfully contented and not afraid.” After a moment, she released herself, laughed, and sat up, adjusting her hair with one hand and resting against his shoulder. A key rattled in the lock; she sprang to her feet. Helen came in, and she saw Grayson and Grismer standing in the hallway. “Come in everybody!”’ she cried. breakfast before we part? delightful, Phil? I can’t put it Can't you?” he stam- “Shall we all have Don’t you think it, would be Don’t you, Oswald? And you know we Wait! I'll turn on the phonograph.” Helen and Grayson deliberately began a tango; Grismer came over to where Cleland was standing. “They’re still dancing in the Garden,” he said pleasantly. “Did you and Stephanie get enough of it?”’ CLELAND, be- ing young, re- quired sleep, and it was not until noon that he awoke. Cool-headed retrospection during tubbing and dressing increased his astonishment at the manner in which he had spent his first day in New York after the years of absence. For into that one day had been crowded a whole gamut of experience and of sensations that seemed incredible when he thought them over. Every emotion that a young man could experience seemed to have been called into play during that bewilder- ing day and night—curiosity, resentment, apprehension, = . XXII a
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Robert W. Chambers 77 anger, jealousy, love, passion. And their swift and unex- pected sequence had confused him, wrought him up to a pitch of excitement which set every nerve on edge. He could not comprehend what had happened, what he had experienced and said and done, as he stood at his win- dow looking out into the sunshine of the quiet street. Breakfast was served in his room, and he ate it with a perfectly healthy appetite. Then he lighted a cigarette and walked to the window again to stare silently out across the sunny street and marshal his thoughts into some semblance of order. The aromatic smoke from his cigarette curled _ against the window-pane, and he gazed absently through it at the vague phantom of a girl’s face which memory evoked unbidden. What had hap- pened? Was it really love? Was it anger, wounded amour propre, jealousy? Was it She read for an hour, her gray eyes never leaving the written pages, her pretty brows bent inward. with the strain of He watched her, chin on hand, lying there on the sofa concentration. resentment and disgust at the silly, meaningless thing that one whom he had considered as his own kinswoman had done in his absence? Was it a determination to tear her loose that had started the thing—an unreasoning, impul- sive attempt at vengeance, born of hurt pride that incited him to get her back?” For the bond between her and Grismer seemed to him intolerable, hateful—a thing he would not endure if he could shatter it. Why? Was it because he himself had fallen in love with a girl whom, heretofore, he had regarded with the tranquil, tolerant affection of a brother? Was it love? Was there any other name for the impulse which had suddenly over- mastered him when he caught this girl in his arms, confused, frightened, stunned her with hot, incoherent declarations? In the cold after-light of retrospection, did he now mean what he had said last night? : He had never been in love—never even tried to persuade himself that he had been, even when he had, in his boyish loneliness in Paris, built for himself a bewitching ideal out of a very familiar Stephanie and had addressed to this ideal several reams of romantic nonsense. That had been merely the safety-valve working in the very full and lonely heart of a boy. And now, in the lurid light of the exaggerated, bewildering, disquieting events of the preceding day and night, he was trying to think clearly and honestly —trying to reconcile his deeds and words with what he had known of himselfi— trying to find out what really was the matter with him. He did not know. He knew that Stephanie had exasper- ated him—exasperated him to reckless passion, exasper- ated him even more by not responding to that passion. He had declared his love for her; he had attempted to drive the declaration into her comprehension by the very violence of reiteration. The tranquil, happy loyalty, which always had ° been his, was all he evoked in her for all the impulsive vows he made, for all his reckless emotion loosened with the touch of her lips—so hotly ungoverned when her gray eyes looked into his, honestly perplexed, sweetly searching to comprehend the source of these fierce flames which merely warmed her with their breath. “Tt’s a curious thing,” he thought, “that a man, part of whose profession is to write about love and analyze it, doesn’t know whether he’s in love or not.” He spent the day hunting for a studio-apartment. About five o’clock he called Stephanie on the telephone and heard her voice presently. ‘Have you quite recovered, Jim? I feel splendid.” “*Recovered?’ I was all right this morning when I woke up.” ‘“‘T mean your senses?” “Oh! Did you think I lost chien last night, Steve?” “Didn’t you?” Her voice was very sweet, but there was in it a hint of hidden laughter. “‘No,” he said shortly. “Oh! Then you really were in your right senses last night?” she inquired. “Certainly. Were you?” “Well, for a little while I seemed to have lost the power of thinking. But after that I was (Continued on page 148) i i | i ¥ { 4 a - | |
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Game Fat Man A New Adventure of Get-Rich-Quick Wallingford By George Randolph Chester Illustrated by Charles E. Chambers N’ [ll have to take it out o’ eggs, Josiah Good- heart!” velled the thinnest and sharpest- nosed of the thin, sharp-nosed directors. “Over three thousand dozen, at the prevailin’ price o’ eggs, I'll have to Taise an’ sell to git back my loss on your fool contraption.” “What's that got to do with it?’ ’ indignantly demanded Josiah, his sandy gray whiskers seeming to curl up from under his chin with extra crispness. ‘Anyhow, you don’t have to take it out o’ eggs. You got four hundred acres o’ fine land, an’ there’s hay an’ wheat an’ live stock an-——” “Eggs it is!’ Noah Presber’s thin lips set in a straight line which pushed knobs in his cheeks. “I a’ready tole my fambly not a egg do we eat till I make back my loss in the blamed Goodheart Storage-Motor Company. Now, listen to me Josh: You don’t get one cent out o’ what cash is left in the treasury for the stock we give you for your crazy invention. Does he?” “No!” emphatically agreed the other thin, sharp-nosed directors who sat round the bench in the littered work- shop. “Ain’t my stock reg’lar stock in the eyes o’ the law? Ain’t it? Answer me that!” And Josh was triumphant. “No, it ain’t!” denied Secretary Amos Wycliff, the eminent fish-dealer. ‘Here’s the minute-book. It says ‘to participate in the profits,’ an’ there ain’t been none!”’ “No,” corroborated Noah, triumphant in his turn. “Here’s what we're a goin’ to do, Josh: We're a goin’ to disband the Goodheart Storage-Motor Company and divide up what cash is left. Then we'll see if we can sell your patent, and if there’s anything left out o’ that, you can share in it pro rata.” The protest of the inventor on that proposition was so shrill as to be almost inarticulate, and, in the midst of it, the smallest and thinnest-lipped man, Pinchot Weeks— postmaster, notions, and drugs—the one who had sat in secret agony with his eyes screwed nearly shut, arose. “T move we put the company into the hands of a re- ceiver,” he explosively proposed. That well-nigh broke up the meeting. There rose a shrill pandemonium, and bony fists waved, and leathern faces wrinkled and reddened, and such passions as rise in the hungry of soul were approaching their apex when the door opened—and in among the lean came a fat man. He was a huge, glowing geniality, a broad-chested and wide-should- ered jovialness, a splendrous richness encased in broadcloth, adorned with a silk hat, and aglitter with huge diamonds in ring and stick-pin; and his big, round pink face was wreathed in a smile of greeting, as if he were a host and they the guests. “Gentlemen,” said he, “I hope I am not late.” Silence for a moment, and then the chairman. “Wall, that depen’s on what you come fur.” A chuckle from the genial stranger. . “T came to shoot my little white marble.” He laid his silk hat on the bench, brim up, drew up a stool, and beamed on the directors. “I’m a stockholder in this company.” They gazed on him with more silence. “Whose stock did you buy?” finally asked glum and grim Ashley Bevin. “Giulio Masuppi’s,” returned the stranger, chuckling again, and producing a pocket-worn certificate. “The dago barber!” enviously remarked the secretary. “Julius always was all-fired smart.” “Tt don’t appear to me as it’s much difference whose stock it was,’’ considered Noah Presber. “It don’t come to no account here, because this ain’t a stockholders’ meeting; it’s a directors’ meeting. An’ we’re just goin’ out o busi- ness. So, stranger, if you'll wait round a couple o’ weeks, you'll git about four dollars for Julius’s share o’ stock.” The polished-walnut director, Jackson Hope—tomb- stones, brickwork, and money loaned—leaned over, weaz- ened with a penny-saver’s curiosity. “How much did Julius git out o’ you fur it?” he asked. “A shave, a hair-cut, a sixty-cent tip, and four dollars,” returned the stranger, his eyes twinkling. ‘In fact, Giulio told me that your company was about to disband, and I bought his ten-dollar share because you have four thousand dollars left in your treasury. A way can always be found to use four thousand dollars.’ More silence—staring silence. “Permit me to introduce myself, gentlemen and fellow members of the Goodheart Storage-Motor Company,” went on the suave newcomer. “I am J. Rufus Wallingford, and I am a professional money-raiser. It is my business to breed mature dollars to mature dollars and raise whole droves of little dollars. Now, why are we on the point of disbanding?” More silence; then Amos Wycliff examined the stranger’s certificate and said, cautiously, “Wall, I don’t see any objection to tellin’ a stockholder.” “There’s a motion been made,but it hain’t been seconded,” supplemented Ashley Bevin, still glum and grim. “T’'ll tell you!’ suddenly flared inventor Goodheart, his whiskers at their tightest. ‘They promised to git up a fifty-thousan’-dollar company to manufacture my storage- motor, but they only put in ten for a start. Well, we spent “
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“He's the onneriest loafer in Redshoal. What's he doin’ here?” two thousan’ on this old shop an’ three thousan’ gettin’ a sample machine ready, an’ a thousan’ advertisin,’ an’ there’s only four thousan’ left. We been four months since the sample was finished, an’ owin’ to pifflin’ methods an’ bunglin’ financierin’ an’ weak-hearted directors——”’ “Now, just you hold on!” yelled the youngest of the sharp- nosed directors, who was also the baldest one. ‘‘You tell all the truth while you’re at it, Goodheart. Your machine was showed to every factory in Redshoal and Intown and Baysedge, and not one o’ the four factories would buy one. It ain’t no good, and never will be!” “You just look at it, Mr. Wallingford!” And the indig- nant inventor jerked the rubber-cloth covering from the machine in the corner. “It’s an invention to take up the waste power in factories—idle shaftin’ an’ so on.” “Fine!” agreed Mr. Wallingford, nodding at the distant contrivance but making no move to examine it. “I’m willing to say the machine’s a humdinger, but, after all, that’s none of my business. I’m a financier, not an inventor, and so I don’t care whether the motor motes or just looks well on a patent-office drawing. It listens like a million- dollar company to me.” The previous silence seemed noisy as compared with this one, for the stretching of the imagination is a slow and a 79 stupefying process. A million dollars! They looked across at the familiar machine, and tried to comprehend a million. “A miilion dollars,” repeated J. Rufus, nodding and beaming at them. “There might, perhaps, be a later increase to five millions, or possibly twenty-five millions; but just now’’—and here, supporting his thumbs in the armholes of his vest, he complacently twiddled his plump fingers on his distended chest—“‘but just now a million will do.” Ah! They were returning to life. “Was you calculatin’ on puttin’ in the million dollars?” inquired Noah Presber, and they all leaned slowly forward. “Me!” The genial Mr. Wallingford seemed to regard that as a very good joke indeed. ‘I don’t intend to put up a cent. Why use your own money when there’s so much other money in the world? I anteed four dollars and that’s enough. No, fellow storagers, all we need for a start is an ad- vertising fund, and for that we'll use your four thousand.” Silence, but not so much of it. Three grunts and a “Huh!” then Amos Wycliff said, “Not by a dang sight!” “Anyhow,” added glum and grim Ashley Bevin, “if your sales on a thousand dol- lars’ worth of advertisin’ amount to exactly nothin’, your sales on four thousand dol- lars’ worth would amount to four times nothin’, I guess. I second Pinchot Weeks’ motion to throw this company into the hands of a receiver.” “Tut, tut, boys!” For the first time, J. Rufus rose and expanded his chest to all its majestic breadth. “T don’t propose to advertise the machine. I pro- pose to advertise the stock. That’s the only way to cash an invention. You'd just as lief increase your thousand dollars to twenty thousand apiece through the sale of stock as through the sale of machines— now, wouldn’t you?” Silence, but a far different silence from the preceding ones. Lean face turned to lean face in slow speculation; and thin noses sharpened while thin lips widened and small eyes wrinkled. “Wall, if it’s perfectly legitimate,’ cautiously remarked Amos Wycliff, polishing one brown hand with the other. “All according to the law of the land,” returned J. Rufus, and the twinkle in his eye began to meet with kindling sparks. “Be regular kings of finance. It’s easy. You merely create a million dollars’ worth of stock with a fountain pen and a six-dollar seal, sell the stock, and let the suckers who buy it find out if the invention’s any good. It’s the national game. I’ll show you how to play it.” Lean grins on every face now, and every man rubbed his knees or nudged his neighbor or something. Inventor Goodheart looked across at his roughly finished storage- motor and sighed. “T got five thousan’ dollars’ worth o’ stock now, an’ I couldn’t buy a peanut with it.” “You'll have a hundred thousand when we reincorporate,”’ J. Rufus told him, with a laugh. “You'll have fifty thousand to sell and fifty thousand to keep for the gamble. You'll probably have the fifty thousand cash in your pocket, less commissions, before we manufacture a motor, Mr. Good- heart. How’s that?” Josiah’s partial paralysis found a reflection in every face. “You don’t say!” he breathed. “T do say!” And J. Rufus distributed a friendly chuckle. “You all get twenty for one. We'll issue a million shares ‘ Tees ] .
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80 The New Adventures of Wallingford * at a dollar a share. Three hundred thousand to trade for you fellows’ fifteen thousand. Three hundred thousand in the treasury for patents and so forth. Three hundred thousand to sell for manufacturing capital. The other hundred thousand for my services in promotion.” “Hold on!” Pinchot Weeks was gasping for breath. “T can’t go so fast.” “T can though, by gravy!” And Noah Presber fixed the stranger with a stern eye. “Do you propose to come in here with a ten-dollar share o’ stock and take out a hundred thousand for just tellin’ us how to reorganize?”’ The change in Mr. Wallingford was instantaneous and startling. His round face reddened with sudden wrath; his smile became a snarl, and his chest expanded until it seemed to bulge straight out from his collar. “Not another word!” he yelled, and slapped his two plump hands on the bench with a resounding thwack. “You were just about to cash in your investments at the rate of four hundred dollars for every thousand. I come along to engineer a way for you to cash in that thousand for twenty thousand, and you dare to offer a piker criti- cism on my taking a paltry ten per cent. of the big gravy. Another word like that—one more word, remember—and I'll leave you to yourselves!” He grabbed his stick; he grabbed his gloves; he grabbed his hat—but he did not go. They kept him there. Half of them held him and soothed him, while the other half attended to Noah Presber; and the, attended to Noah shrilly and well. Later, when they were eagerly engaged in the routine of dissolving the Goodheart Storage-Motor Company for the purpose of reincorporating at a million, Pinchot Weeks said, with awe in his tones: “By jinks! I never made money so fast as this in all my born days. It seems sinful!” II BEHOLD the steps by which a good live promoter prepared another addition to the commercial activity of his already feverishly active country! Before the ink was dry on the preliminary steps of the new company, J. Rufus Walling- ford was up and away in his automobile. The shop was empty when he returned the next noon, and with him was a red-faced, unfinished-looking, lumpy, knobby sort of man, across the bridge of whose bulbous nose was a callous mark made by years of resting the upper edge of a beer-pail there. To him J. Rufus showed the motor, and explained three times what it was for and how it worked. “Now,” said he, “what improvements can we make in it?”’ “Well, I don’t know,” speculated the man, every knob dull with incomprehension. ‘‘What’s this screw-cap for?’’ “That’s where the liquid is poured in.” “T reckoned so. Well, now if that had a funneled tin neck, you wouldn’t need a funnel to fill it.” He looked at J. Rufus dubiously, but found that gentleman radiant. “Just the thing, Tucker! Just the thing!’ “I thought it’d be purty good.” And Tucker straight- ened so that he was a full inch taller. Also, he wiped his ragged mustache and smiled complacently. “Then,” added Wallingford, bound to make Tucker’s suggestion patentable, “if we combined a specific-gravity tester with the cap, we’d have something, eh?” Tucker folded his arms and frowned down at the thing. “Well, mebby,” he grudgingly admitted. “Of course we will—I mean you will,” J. Rufus assured him, and slapped him on the back. “Naturally, the tester will be part of your own patent.” Relief on the part of Tucker. “Now, how about this device for breaking the current when the battery is fully charged?” Again Tucker frowned. “Couldn’t we make that brass piece out o’ tin?’ he suggested. “Not quité.”” And J. Rufus suppressed a chuckle. “But we can use some tin somewhere, I’m sure. Say—I have an idea. We——” “What are you doin’?” shrilled an anxious voice, and Josiah Goodheart was right behind them, with Noah Presber and Pinchot Weeks. “Good-morhing, gentlemen!” Mr. Wallingford was as urbane as a bed of tulips. “We are considering a few improvements in the storage-motor.” “In my motor?” yelled Josiah, immediately trembling with indignation. ‘My motor don’t need any improve- ments. Looky here, you Wallingford——” “Tush, Josh,” interrupted J. Rufus kindly. “This gentleman is Mr. Hillsign.”’ “Of course he is!” rasped Josh. “We know him. He’s the onneriest loafer in Redshoal. What’s he doin’ here?” “Two tushes and a tish, Josh,” grinned Wallingford nd he turned to the other directors as they came trooping in. “Don’t you realize that Mr. Hillsign’s inventions have made his name a household word, that Mr. Hillsign is the best known and most popular inventor in America to-day, that “What are you a’ talkin’ about?” shrilled Josh, his voice at the breaking-point; and even Tucker looked startled. “This ain’t Thomas Hillsign, the great Ameri- can inventor—not by a dang sight! It’s Tucker Hillsign, the tipsy tinsmith, from Redshoal. He couldn’t invent a—a—a—a—anything.” “You are mistaken,” returned Mr. Wallingford, with a trace of severity. ‘Mr. Hillsign has suggested improve- ments of such value that I am certain the board of directors will see their way clear, when they change the name of the company as I suggested, to call our million-share cor- poration the Hillsign Storage-Motor Company. Why, gentlemen’’—and here he turned to the directors and stuck his thumbs in the armholes of his vest and smiled with a contagious joviality—‘I hunted this county over to find a man by the name of Hillsign!”’ Some snickers as they caught the joke. They relished it. “Think of it!’ went on J. Rufus proudly. ‘The Hillsign Storage Motor Company! Capital, one million shares! Don’t that look like a full-page advertisement, gentlemen?” Mr. Presber and Mr. Weeks and the others looked at each other with lean grins; then they !aughed aloud, and Pinchot Weeks actually pounded J. Rufus on the back with four sharp knuckles. “T won’t have it!” screeched Josiah. ‘It’s my motor. It’s the Goodheart storage-motor and nothin’ else. I'll git out an injunction. No chance for Josiah. Noah and Pinchot backed him into a corner and, with the determination of them who know the gripe of eternal hunger, told him about his hundred thousand shares, and their own stock, until his spirit gave way to his greed; and, meanwhile, the money- breeder and inventor Hillsign finished inventing and hurried away to the office of a notary, attorney, real-estate dealer, and insurance agent who also made patent-applications. Thus was conducted the first step in preparing an attractive investment for the public. The next step was when Rufus went to the largest machine-shop in the state, ordered two of the storage-motors made, and brought away some fine interior photographs of the shop. A lean and lank gentleman with sharply pointed black mustaches and eager black eyes sat at a table in a richly furnished New York office with three other gentlemen, and he was the Horace G. Daw whose name was freshly gilded on the door as a stock-and-bond broker and underwriter, Class A securities only. “Not on your life, Bermuda!” he yelled to the totally bald gentleman across from him. ‘Keep your sandwich-clamp off those chips because—behold!” And he threw down four sevens and a king. Just then the wall ’phone rang. Mr. Daw sprang to answer it, and an instant later his countenance had changed. “Quick, you lobs; set up the frame!”
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DRAWN BY CHARLES B. CHAMBERS The jaw of the guilty Wallingford dropped and his eyes rounded, while his big pink face actually turned pale. “You r he stammered. “Yes; me, scoundrel Yr. returned Mr. Daw, in firm tones a « 4 ‘ q 4 € ~ | q
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82 The New. Adventures Wallingford At the desk sat Daw himself, his hair di- sheveled, his tie dis- arranged. He was talk- ing into the telephone When the superintendent and the Finance Committee Of the Hillsign Storage- Motor Company walked into the outer office of Horace G. Daw, they found, sitting at the desk, entering millions in a big book, Tim Meazen, one side of his mustache chewed to a tassel and every finger on his freckled hands smeared with ink. He went back to his work with a jerk as he met the watchful eye of the money- breeder. “Ts Mr. Daw in?” asked J. Rufus, advancing, while Josiah Goodheart and Noah Presber and Pinchot Weeks kept in the background. “Got any appointment?” “No,” confessed J. Rufus, respectfully. “I am J. Rufus Wallingford, and we represent the Hillsign Storage-Motor Company, capital one million shares. Kindly send my card in to Mr. Daw.” “T’ll have to know your business first.” Mr. Wallingford frowned and turned to his fellow travelers, but in them there was no trace of suspicion of the inky Meazen. They were numb with awe of this place. “Very well,” agreed Mr. Wallingford, and, setting chairs, for himself and the Finance Committee in a solemn semi- circle round the end of Meazen’s desk, J. Rufus patiently explained all about the excellence of the storage-motor, the virtues of the directors of the company, and the plan of incorporation. To all of this, Mr. Meazen listened with an impersonal gravity which might have passed for dumb- ness with those who promote instead of those who invest; but inasmuch as he kept his face expressionless and his eyes on the floor, and chewed the tasseled end of his mustache, the high expectations of the committee began to ebb. How- ever, he did, at the finish, give them a ray of hope. “T don’t think we'll handle it, but I'll let you see Mr. Daw’s secretary.” And he led the way into the adjoining room, where Chinchilla Williams sat amid his glossy black whiskers at another desk, signing and stamping one thousand bright-purple stock-certificates, working at a furious rate, scritch-scratch, stimp-stamp; and it was indicative of Mr. Williams’ su- perior rank that he only had ink on two fingers and a thumb, though there was purple stamp-ink on the only bare spot of his right cheek. More suave, too, as he asked what he could do for them, ard decided that they must explain their business thoroughly before he could consider taking it up with Mr. Dav. Thereupon, Mr. Wallingford set chairs in a solemn semicircle for himself ard the Finance Committee, and as he ex- plained and the committee watched the unimpressed countenance of Mr. Wil- liams, they felt that their mission was a failure. If only Mr. Daw would han- dle their stock, they could get money for it they were certain by this time; but the machine was no good—even with those high-priced Hillsign improvements. “Well,” decided Mr. Williams, after stroking his whiskers doubtfully for an age or so, ‘it don’t impress me, but sometimes the chief takes on, these small companies when I wouldn’t. I believe I'll let you see Mr. Daw.” Hope rose then; they were, at least, to see the great Daw, and it was with bated breath that they entered the third and last room, where Onion Jones, with a stenographer’s note-book in his hand, stood in respectful attention at the end of a desk. At the desk sat Daw himself, his black hair disheveled, his tie disarranged. He was talking into the telephone, and he paid no attention to the open-mouthed group in the doorway. “No!” he snapped. ‘I don’t care if Mr. Rockefeller is back of the company. I don’t like the proposition at five billions any better than I did at two, and I won’t offer the stock to my investors. Who? Tell Mr. Gould to go to the dickens! No use, I tell you. Good-by.” He clicked sharply at his switch and turned to Onion Jones. “Write that letter yourself. Tell Astor I’ll place his stock for seven- ty-five per cent. of the cash received, or he can take it elsewhere. And get out that prospectus.” Onion Jones, casting but the fragment of a sidelong glance at J. Rufus, went behind his screen and began pecking furiously at a typewriter, while Blackie Daw whirled sharply in his chair and looked at his watch. “Well, gentlemen?” : Mr. Wallingford set chairs for himself and the Finance Committee in a solemn semicircle round Mr. Daw, and patiently he explained all about the Hillsign Storage-Motor Company. “Well, well!”’ said Mr. Daw rapidly, twirling his pointed black mustaches into corkscrews. “Well, well! I'll take it —at two-thirds.” “You will!” It was inspiriting to see how Mr. Walling- ford brightened from his gloom. He was delighted with this unexpected triumph. ‘“He’ll take it, gentlemen. Mr. Daw, I thank you.” “Wait a minute!” shrilled Pinchot Weeks. the two-thirds?” “T do!” was the prompt reply of Mr. Daw, and hepicked up his ‘phone as the buzzer sounded. ‘‘Who? J. P. Morgan? I’m busy.” He turned to his callers. ‘“‘Leave your stock with my secretary.” “Wait a minute!’’ Noah Presber this time. “Do you mean that this million-dollar company will only get a hundred thousand dollars to do business with,.for its three- hundred thousand dollars’ worth of stock that you sell?” “Certainly,” explained J. Rufus, with a laugh. ‘‘That’s all a company ever gets, as you’d know if you kept track of tte | “Who gets 4 4 ( =°
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George Randolph Chester modern finance. One dollar out.of ten. That’s because there are nine boobs to every good business man.”’ Blackie Daw suddenly cocked his head to one side as he listened to the click of the typewriter. “But—but—but,” sputtered Pinchot Weeks, “you said we'd offer three hundred thousand to the public—and—and where does the two hundred thousand go?” “Selling-expense,”” was the brisk rejoinder. ‘That’s regular. When a stockholder’s dollar gets down to actual work, so many people have had a bite that it’s shrunk to a dime. That’s why we have stockholders.” “Ves; I’ve heard of that,” considered Josiah Goodheart. ‘“Everybody’s heard of it, so I suppose it’s all right an’ we all have to do it. But what I don’t see is this: How Wal- lingford buys those Hillsign patents-applied-for from the tinner for ten thousan’ dollars’ worth of his stock, an’ sells ‘em to us for three hundred thousan’—all our extra treasury stock. An’ I only get——” J. Rufus turned on him fiercely. “You get a hundred thousand, which might increase to a million. And you wouldn’t have had it except for me. How often must I tell you that? By thunder, I'll sell out! I'll offer my stock with yours.” That settled it again, and they all jumped on Josh. This was while Blackie Daw, waiting for the cover ofan argument, darted behind the screen and hissed fiercely in the ear of Onion Jones: “Change time, you big knuckle of garlic! If you hammer out ‘Turkey in the Straw’ any more on this machine, I'll crack your egg.” He reappeared briskly at his desk. “Gentlemen, you'll have to pay for the preliminary advertis- ing,” he said. “Yes; Mr. Wallingford told us that,” returned Noah Presber, his brow deeply knotted. ‘But looky here, Mr. Daw: The company gets its hundred thousand out of the very first sales.” For only an instant, Mr. Wallingford and Mr. Daw glance at each other speculatively in the eyes; then said Mr. Daw: “Certainly. Leave your check for three thousand with my secretary as you go out.” Ill REAL clerks in the office of Horace G. Daw, real stenographers, real business! Why not? The great American public, always quick to see and to seize a glittering financial opportunity, were crowding each other to dive into the spurt- ing fountain of fortune opened by the Hillsign Storage-Motor Company. Why not? With the morning and evening and noonday meals, the public was con- fronted with a full-page announcement of the latest money-making invention of the great Mr. Hillsign. And didn’t the public know all about the sensational Thomas A. Hill- sign? Was there a house with- out the Hillsign iceless refriger- ator,which cooled and frappéed on nothing a week by an ingen- ious application of the principle of evaporation? Was there a family without his sunlight candles, which bottled up day- light all day long to give out the light at night? Was there a home without his electrical converter, which turned a nickel’s worth of salt anda barrel of water into better fuel than gasoline? In- deed, they knew the great Hillsign, knew and revered 83 him; and boys were admonished under every roof to grow up like him, and invent and make fortunes. Well, here he was! Not often did the public have such a chance to grasp the ground-floor, full participating stock of such a company. Usually the big financiers gobbled it up and kept it for them- selves, but Mr. Hillsign had insisted that the public have a chance at the profits made from its own support. And this was a going concern—a going concern, with a big factory already running! Why, here was a photograph of the enormous molding shop, where huge, towering crucibles were pouring out the white-hot metal to make castings for the Hillsign storage-motors! And here was the machine- shop, where the gears were being cut for the marvelous Hillsign storage-motors, a shop blocks long, a shop filled with rows upon rows of whirring machinery, a shop so vast that the perspective of its interior narrowed down to a pin-point at the other end—capacity ten thousand motors aday! And listen! The profit on each motor was a hundred dollars! A share was worth a dollar in the beginning. There were a million shares. Ten thousand motors at a profit of a hundred dollars each was a profit of a million— a dollar a share. Now, if the factory worked to capacity and turned out its ten thousand motors a day, there was a dollar a day profit for every dollar you invested. Why, say! If you invested ten dollars, your income was tena day. Better than working, eh? But fifty would make fifty dol- lars a day! How was that, eh? For the balance of your life!’ That’s enough for anvbody. (Continued on page 130) Blackie Daw, waiting for the cover of an argument, darted behind the screen and hissed fiercely in the ear of Onion Jones: “Change time, you big knuckle of garlic! If you hammer out ‘Turkey in the Straw’ any more on this machine, I'll crack your egg” j Ny | at 4 y | f
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Others By Lillie Langtry (Lady De Bathe) Mrs. Langtry here tells of unusual experiences both as hostess and guest in London society, and of an interesting visit to the unlucky Crown Prince of Austria’s palace in the city of Vienna. © 84 yself and Sacher's Restaurant At Home and Abroad T seems almost unjust to accuse the tiny house we took in London of being our initial extravagance. It was so small, so modest, so blushing, just one of a row of similar red-brick abodes forming one side of Norfolk Street, Park Lane. We had decided, after our first experience of a London season, that we must have a pied a terre some- where in the West End, and I was delighted with the pros- pect of a home of my own. When I became engaged to be married to Edward Langtry, he was the complacent pro- *s prietor of a stud of hunters, a coach and four rh (which he tooled fzirly well), an Elizabethan &*>) house called Cliff Lodge, near Southampton, and Mag besides the schooner-yacht, Red Gauntlet, men- 4 tioned earlier, he had a sixty-ton fishing- cutter equipped with a plethora of pisca- torial apparatus, and a small racer, the Ildegonda, which had covered itself with cups and glory at the various regattas held along the coast of England. All these possessions had filled my youthful mind with pleasurable anticipa- tion, which was, however, rudely shat- tered on the rock of parental investigation when the nuptial settlement was being considered, that inevitable meddler, the family lawyer, making it clear to my “Very Reverend” father - and my prospective husband that these expensive recreations were out of all proportion to his Lady De Bathe fortune, whereon Edward po- litely permitted himself to be (From a recent photograph) f ? vy ’ | P a |_|
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burnish the fans, but the gold paint rained on us and splashed us with such animate persistence that, by the time our work was finished, our eye- lashes glittered and destruction sat on our clothes. } Still, the addition of a painted ceiling dimly repre- senting the firmament with a pair of birds pro- phetically depicted in full flight thereon made the drawing-room, at all events, original as regards decoration, though it may have been—and prob- ably was—caviar to many of my friends. Our newly acquired nest stood on the site of the infamous gallows called Tyburn Tree, where, in bygone days, executions raged fast and furiously, which fact perhaps accounted for the ghostly hap- penings in that elfin house. Personally, I can only in the Prater, Vienna shorn of most of the aforesaid luxuries before I was allowed to become Lillie Langtry. The Elizabethan house sheltered us for our honeymoon and then went “by the board” with his other doomed superfluities. Following on these trying disappointments, it is not astonishing that I was impatient to “con- solidate” my position this time; so after one hurried survey, we shackled ourselves with a long lease of Number 17, find- ing later, to our dismay, that the chimneys smoked and that the saloon next door was a vexatiously prosperous concern. The furnishing of this hoodwinking little abode was a pleasurable excitement, though I fell an easy prey to the so-called ‘‘antique dealers.’”’ In one’s salad-days, no matter how much forewarned, it is only by bitter experience that one learns to look below the surface and so detect the real from the sham (in people as well as in things). Trusting boldly, therefore, to my superficial knowledge, I. secured “amazing bargains” in artificially worm-eaten and black- ened-oak furniture, with which I overcrowded the narrow dining-room—a poor compliment to the rare old prints, which had been contributed by Lord Malmesbury from his exhaustless collection to embellish its terra-cotta walls. The drawing-room is the only one of the eight or nine others that calls for description, and that I draped with some plum-colored material which made it look pre- maturely funereal. To the rescue of this gloomy room came Whistler unexpectedly one morning, bearing bundles of palm-leaf fans and a tin of gold paint. It seemed strange that the apostle of the demi-tone should advocate garish- ness, but feeling that I had missed my expected effect and An entrance to the Prater, Vienna's famous park that he realized it, I listened gladly to his suggestion of Rudolph, Crown Prince of Austria, whose career was one F gilded trophies.to brighten the walls. So we set to work to of the most tragic of all the ill-fated Hapsburgs 95 ? © < . | ¥ = j 2 | | i j
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John Ruskin chronicle the sudden bursting-open of firmly closed doors at odd and sometimes embarrassing moments and of an unaccountably eery at- mosphere, but a_ butler, sleeping in the basement, shiveringly bemoaned the repeated apparitions of Tyburn victims, who devoted witching- hours to such rollicking sports as rolling over his bed with their heads in their hands or rearing gib- bets at its foot. Finding me steadily indifferent to his terrifying experiences and his haggard morning face—both induced, in my opinion, by the fumes of whisky — he eventually fled from these uproarious nocturnal frolics and our service.Only monthsafter, when a young housemaid, whose reputation rivaled that of Czsar’s wife, related how a man with long and beauteous curls and the profu- sion of lace associated with the cavalier barred her way down-stairs one morning in broad daylight, did I feel belated sympathy for the departed butler. My efforts at entertaining—practised only on intimate friends—were at that time distinctly defective (sub- sequently, in America, I learned to appreciate the epicurean side of food), but the antique blue-glass bow! (the piéce de résistance on the dining-table), with a single yellow water-lily floating on the water therein—and which has since become a popular decoration—caused much frankly expressed derision from those guests whose sense of fitness called for artistic food as its obvious accompaniment. Myself and Others An early visitor to this little house of bizarre effects was John Ruskin, then Slade Professor of Art at the University of Oxford. He came one afternoon with Oscar Wilde, who assumed an attitude of such extreme reverence and humility toward the “master” that he could scarcely find breath to introduce him to me. This unusually meek demeanor on Oscar’s part aggravated my natural shyness and filled me with exaggerated awe. After a few moments, however, Rus- kin’s winning voice and charm of manner reassured me, and, taking courage to look at him, I noted that his blue-gray eyes were smiling at me from under bushy eyebrows, that his forehead was large and intellectual, that his nose was aquiline, and that the side-whiskers, made familiar by his earlier portraits, had become supplementary to a gray leonine beard. His hair was rather long and flopped over his ears— indeed, he was a shaggy-looking individual. He held forth on his pet topic, Greek art, in a fervently enthusiastic man- ner, and as vehemently denounced the Japanese style, then at the beginning of its vogue, describing it as the“ glorification of ugli- ness and artificiality,” and contrasting the unbalanced form of Japanese with the fine composition and color of Chinese art—of which he declared it to be a cari- cature. At this moment, James McNeill Whistler was bringing a libel suit against the professor on account of the following remark, said to have been uttered by the latter and published in a newspaper of the time. I have seen much and heard much of cockney impudence, but never expected to have a coxcomb ask two hundred guineas for flinging a pot of paint in the public’s face. James of the white lock did not content himself on “The Falling Rocket—Nocturne in Black and Gold,” by Whistler. Ruskin’s criticism of which was the cause of a libel suit brought against him by the painter James McNeill Whistler 86 as f | | | 4 ¥
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Lillie Langtry 87 this occasion with writing valedictory letters and lengthening the sting of his signatorial butterfly, but brought an action at law against the alleged a traducer of his work. The case was hotly contested and had comic es Ae — interludes, one of the most amusing of these being the exhibition in court i ae of some of the “‘nocturnes”’ and “symphonies,” which had called forth the harsh criticism to which Jimmy had taken exception. Whistler’s el EO Ee counsel, perplexedly unfamiliar with the American impressionist’s work, ee | ee held one of the famous ‘“‘arrangements”’ upside down for the inspection ee. | of the jury. Ruskin’s lawyer sarcastically drew their attention to the | fact, and the two barristers disputed contumaciously the possible top and. bottom of this disturbing “harmony,” the critic’s defender gaining the day on declaring that he had seen the picture in question hanging in the Grosvenor Gallery, where it was presumably placed in position by the painter himself. This altercation practically decided the suit, for it served to convince the jury that the paintings could not be meritorious if even the plaintiff's wise lawyer was unable to make “head or tail” of them, and the verdict was a virtual victory for Ruskin, Whistler being awarded one farthing damages. The recipient thereafter wore this expen- sive coin on his watch-chain. Nevertheless, I wondered why the eminent critic who raved of Turner and wrote reams in praise of his sublime art should have failed to understand and appreciate the delicate beauty of Jimmy Whistler’s work, which isinfused with so much of Turneresque feeling. It was naturally a great de- light to meet these celebrated makers of history, who all seemed amiably bent on making my acquaintance, including the then prime minister, though I admit that my recollection of Ben- jamin Disraeli, or, rather, Lord Baron Ferdinand de Rothschild impression, he begged Disraeli Beaconsfield to tell him (for he had how long he been raised to should preach the peerage), is and‘ Dizzy’s” answer is said to have been, “Tf your ser- mon last? three-q uar- ters of an hour, you will never be heard of again; if thirty min- utes, the ex- alted person- age will snore; if fifteen, you will be favor- somewhat hazy. On the evening that I saw him first, he was sitting at the end of a long room at a big reception at the Foreign Office, and I was led up and introduced to him. J was very shy and he was very condescending, so conversation flagged ¥ ably considered, but — Feeling if you preach for five that he ought-to say minutes only, the ex- something, I suppose, he 4 alted personage will quizzically remarked, make you a bishop “What can I do for you?” in three vears.” As it happened to be just ‘ I am under the impression before Ascot races—a meeting that Lord Beaconstield was attended in state by royalty, ’ wearing an unusual amount where women all like to wear fresh, $e of orders and jewels that night at beautiful frocks—I answered jokingly, the Foreign Office, which gave him, “Four new gowns for Ascot,” on which Ope pm dave of h in my eyes, the look of an Eastern he laughed, patted my hand, and said: pag potentate, but although I met him You are a sensible young woman. Some elsewhere occasionally, the picture I of your sex would have asked to be made a duchess.’”’ retain of him is a blurred one. ‘Among the many stories illustrative of Disraeli’s dry Most of the royalties of Europe came from time to time to humor is the following: He bestowed an important living on London in the season. Among them was King Oscar of a poor curate who had to deliver his first sermon before a Sweden, whose signed photograph I still possess, though I ‘most exalted personage. ‘Naturally anxious to make a good cannot recollect much about his personality. But this ig = = 2 = = = iS e = = : ry ; ay al 1
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88 =< Leopold Il. King of the Belgians extract from a letter written to me much later from Stockholm shows that King Oscar’s memory was much better than mine. I continue to enjoy my trips and since the 2d am the King’s zuest. I told him I had heard rom you, and he particularly begged to be remembered to you and to wish you success in your new profession. He told me he had always got the photo you had given him. Again, at one of the small dinners given at Marlborough House, I met Crown Prince Frederick of Prussia and our own princess royal. But the monarch who came oitenest in those far-off days to England was Leopold, King of the Belgians. Paris and London were his recrea- tion-grounds. He used to enjoy himself in these capitals in the most democratic way, walking about the streets unattended even by an equerry, and often pay- ing visits to his acquaint- ances—in London, at all events—at curious and un- conventional hours. For instance, one morning at nine o'clock, the butler, rapping on my _ boudoir door--i was not yet down —made the startling announcement that His Mrs. Langtry, in street costume (From a »hotogravh of the veriod of her first visit to the United States) Myself and Others Majesty, the King of the Belgians, had called and was waiting in the drawing-room. Very much astonished, I scrambled into my gown, rushed down, and there sat his majesty, wet through, with a dripping umbrella in his hand, having trudged through the pouring tain from his hotel. After making the formal courtesy demanded by etiquette, I sat rather wondering what explanation he would offer me of this early visit; but apparently thinking none necessary, he talked some- what uninterestingly for what seemed to me an inter- minable period. His majesty wore his usual apparel —a frock-coat suit and its etceteras—but on this occa- sion the costume looked ludicrously out of place considering the weather and the time of day. ; One afternoon, I chanced to meet King Leopold hurrying along the plat- form of King’s Cross Station almost hidden behind an enormous card- board box he was carrying and which, he said, contained a bouquet for Queen Victoria, who was then in Scotland and to whom he was on the way to pay his respects. The Crown Prince Rudolph of Austria was a callow youth who burst upon the horizon of London one spring. Still in his teens, he was more or less in charge of a tutor, who accompanied him everywhere, and I think the poor man had a difficult and strenuous task. Prince Rudolph was tall, slight, fair- haired, but not good-looking, with deep-set gray eyes aid the prominent Hapsburg lip. He seemed very headstrong and impulsive and was, I thought, a thoroughly spoiled child. Being heir apparent to the Austrian throne, he was extensively en- tertained,and I think made the most of his temporary emancipa- tion from the rigid etiquette of the Vien- nese court. One -of the first private dances in his honor—at which the Prince of Wales was present—was given by Baron Ferdinand de Rothschild, known to his friends as “Ferdy.” The baron had exquisite taste— as indeed have all the Rothschilds—and his house in Piccadilly © was artistically deco- rated in the Louis XVI period. The white ballroom was especially refreshing at a time when the inspiration of the mo- ment was expressed in a rather ponderous and heavy style of oak and that terrible material called YE: ad rr Ny | Ak
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Lillie Langtry 89 “plush.” Of course, I am not speaking of the lovely ©° reply was? “‘C’est vous qui suez, madame.” (It is interiors of homes which retained their decorations of the ‘© _~ you who are perspiring, madame.) various Queen Anne, Georgian, and Adam periods, but o During his stay in London, this precocious youth the ‘‘others.”” In any case, Baron de Rothschild’s eo and his chaperon came often to our house in ballroom was a searching background for doubt- Norfolk Street, but one evening, about fully clean gowns, a fact our prospective host seven o’clock, he arrived alone, excited in constantly impressed on those whom he knew well manner and rather untidy, the only explana- enough. Certainly, at this particular entertain- tion he volunteered being that he had left ment, credit was done to his white room, all the his tutor in an overturned four-wheelerin the beauties of London being present and looking per- street below. Whether he had had a hand fectly gowned. I also tried to live up to the re- 4 in upsetting the ‘“growler” in order to quirements of my surroundings in a pale-pink escape his irksome guardian I do not know, dress of clinging crépe de Chine. but it seemed to my husband and myself as Having been presented to the young prince if this might have been the case, especially early in the evening, I danced with him as the erratic boy seemed to con- once or twice, and after promising to be 4 sider it a huge joke: his partner for the cotillion,. go It Was some time the royalties went to supper, before I renewed my the crown prince taking in acquaintance with the the baron’s sister. About ten Crown Prince of minutes later, Ferdy Austria. I had been hastily returned to the ball- touring in the United room and took me forcibly . States, and the follow- down to sit beside Prince , J ing summer traveled Rudolph who (spoiled boy on the Continent with some American friends. Included in our itinerary was Vienna, which I had never visited, and we arrived there one broiling August day to find the city practi- cally deserted. Every- one who could do so’ had fled from the hot pavements either to the mountains, to Carlsbad, or to one of the sea- shore resorts of the Adriatic. ~ (Above) Oscar II, King of S te weden Prince Rudolph was (Below) Benjamin Disraeli, Earl in residence at his of Beaconsfield shooting-box, Meyer- ling, which was destined that he was) had manifested an unappeasable appetite for my presence. After supper he claimed gz me for the cotillion, much embarrassing fay me by collecting all the favors for the differ- a ent figures and presenting them to me. As he Pree, danced in the most enthusiastic manner, the natural i consequence was that he got very hot, which caused a friend mao of mine to whisper: ‘‘Take care of your dress; there are marks perial highness answered the on it. Make him put on his gloves.” This I proceeded to do on the telegram in person, still wearing first opportunity, calling attention to the finger-marks round the waist in his picturesque Tyrolese costume support of my request. And what do you think the young man’s astonishing de chasse. He (Continued on page 110) to be the scene, later, of such a terrible tragedy. Nevertheless, mindful of a promise made to let him know if chance should ever bring me to his country, I } sent him a wire announcing the 6=6fact. A few hours later, his im- = aS = * |
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~ R. FULGROVE BLIMLEY started as a Desk Worm and finished as an Asteroid.. He in- herited a Few of everything—a few Thousands in the Bank, a few bundles of Securities in the Tin Box, a few pieces of improved Real Estate, and an Office at which a few chalk-faced Fridays sat at a few quarter-sawed Oak Desks. He went to call on Bertha McGonnigle a few times, and next we find him purchasing a few necessary articles for a few Offspring. Any good Fore- caster might have predicted that the light of Blimley never would effulge beyond thelimitsof the Eighth Ward. He seemed cut out to be a carrier of Pork Chops and a mower of Lawns, a Porch Warmer, a Perambulator Pusher, a passer of the Contribution Box, a reader of Evening Papers, a Furnace Feeder, a Strap-Hanger.a believer in Govern- ment through the moral Uplift of all Persons wearing Alpaca Coats, Goloshes, and Wristlets. In other Words, a Deuce. But you never can tell how much Heat there is behind the Asbestos or how wildly a Heart is beating underneath the starched White Vest. It was early in the Game that Mr. Blimley became Joseph to the vital Fact that no matter how much of a Blob a man may be in his own Bailiwick, he becomes a Mastodon g The Babble of many Voices as Delegate greeted Delegate and the Joe Millers sped from Tongue to Tongue was pill music to his Listeners Fables By George Ade The Fable of the Rise and as soon as he is 80 miles from home and wearing a Badge. So it is better to ride away on a Special Train and be a Member of the Committee on Credentials than to pace back and forth along some localCow Path and gradually camou- flage oneself into an uninspired Background. The one who is of 22 Caliber can- not make himself 38 by Wishing, but if he stands close enough to the Camera, he will look like a 44. Fulgrove Blim- ley was not born to blush Unseen. In fact, after he had been sitting — MCCUTCHEON on Platforms and pulling the Chautauqua Beam on help- less Audiences for a few Years, he forgot how to Blush at all. Solitude had no charms for the Subject of this Sketch. He loved to lope with the Herd. — MO CUTCHE ON — To stand beside a Table bearing a Pitcher of Lecture Juice, and gaze at the Wide Eyes and pendulous Sub-Maxillaries of all the other Beetles—Oh, that were Joy enough for Fulgrove! The Babble of many Voices as Delegate greeted Delegate and the Joe Millers sped from Tongue to Tongue was music to his Listeners. He relished a whiff of the overcrowded Assembly Hall. To stand beside a Table bearing a Pitcher of Lecture Juice, and gaze at the Wide Eyes and pendulous Sub- Maxillaries of all the other Beetles—Oh, that were Joy enough for Fulgrove! Admitting that there is no cure for Conventionitis, let it be said in the same Breath that the Blimleys who sleep five in a Room with the Windows down never want to be cured. One of the inalienable Rights granted by the Constitution to every Citizen pull- ing down more than $800 a year is that of Membership. Fulgrove Jooked out from his early Obscurity and discerned many Organiza- tions waiting to be joined. It came to him that every Lodge, or Society, or Union, or Club, or Association needed a full set of Officers, Delegates to Interstate and National Round-Ups, Members of the Banquet Committee, some one to wear the Ribbons marked “Reception,” some one to receive the Loving Cup or the Solid Silver Service. His first working Capital was a con- nection with a Protestant Sect that still BA
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Slang Illustrated by John T. McCutcheon Flight of the Winged Insect believed in Hell, and an_ inherited affiliation with a Political Party that believed in what- ever soundsall right in the Platform. You have no idea how many Brotherhoods and Leagues and Unions and Allian- ces a busy Blimley can scare up inside of a perfectly good Protestant Church and a well-rooted Political Party. And every one of them has to throw a Convention once a year and have Group Pictures printed in the Newspapers and listen to an Ad- dress of Welcome by the Mayor and raise Cain gen- erally. It has been suggested that Mr. Blimley came into some Real Estate. Because he was Custodian of two Dwelling Houses and four Vacant Lots, he took a front seat in the Chamber of Commerce and was a Bright Light in the Business Men’s Booster Club and Chairman of the Executive Committee of the Federation of Taxpayers. It may be urged that almost any small-sized Gillie can horn his way into a Chamber of Commerce or enlist as a Booster or claim the doubtful distinc- tion of being a taxpayer. True, but Harken! Once in a while, or oftener, all the Chambers of Commerce get together for a Conference at Columbus or Omaha or Atlantic City, and then there are Tall Doings, with Cabaret Features and a Member of the Cabinet at the 35-a- Plate Orgy. As for the Boosters, they may go along without attracting much attention vntil the Governor or Vice-President Marshall or somebody like that looms on the Horizon, and then they leap to their Places and begin naming Com- mittees. Mr. Blimley did not despise the Boosters, because he knew that, if he stuck along, sooner or later he would be seen wearing a high Tile and riding in a Car (deleted by Censor) with a Congressman. As for the Federation of Taxpayers, it might suddenly be called upon to appoint a few Spokesmen to lay certain Admitting that there is no cure for Conventionitis, let it be said in the same Breath that the Blimleys who sleep five in a Room with the Windows down never want to be cured matters before the Legislature, and, naturally, these visitors to the State Capital would be interviewed by the News- papers and would be seen whispering around the Hotels, . and what more could anyone ask? On the Farm which Mr. Blimley discovered among his Assets were several kinds of growing Crops and some of the best known varieties of Domestic Animals. The products were relatively unimportant except as pro- viding Mr. Blim- ley with a bona- fide Pretext for joining every Agricultural, Hor- ticultural, Live- Stock, and Con- servation Society within range. He had the satisfaction of knowing that he came as near to being a Farmer as most of the other gentlemanly and well-dressed Faddists who were plowing Corn by Proxy. If Mr. Blimley’s Fingers seemed to be a trifle Spread and his Hands slightly warped out of Shape, it was because every whispering Order had a_ different kind of Grip, with much interlocking of Digits, pressure on the Wrist, and other Hanky-Pank. Secret Mottoes and Passwords and Grand Hailing Signs and Signs of Distress may seem to be Fol-de-Rol and Pish- Tush to the cold-blooded Skinics who have faulty ignition in their Carbureters, but they were the real Paprika to old Fulgrove. ~ — — MCCUTCHEON — Now we see the Guests of Honor riding to the Hotel, convoyed by busy little Explainers. A few hours previous they had been incon- spicuous Units in their various Tank Towns ia = a1
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The picture finds him prominently in the Foreground, and it is pretty hard for a Picture to find him anywhere else He was a Joiner from away Back and some Funeral Attender. By the time he was 35, nothing seemed to give him greater Satisfaction than the sight of a well laid-out Corpse. And he could truthfully say to Friend Wife, any old night in the week, that he was due ata Meeting and the Brothers expected him. The more Degrees he took and the more kinds of Insignia he accumulated to wear on the Watch-Chain and in the Cravat and through the Buttonhole, the more he craved. In the final Stages of what is known as Fraternal Fever, the Victims are not satisfied with belonging to all the Clans listed in the back part of the Directory. ‘ They incorporate and apply for Charters and frame up : new Rituals and have a simply Wonderful Time. ! If Mr. Blimley had found himself troubled with the ’ Hives and had learned that two Neighbors were similarly afflicted, he would have called a Meeting of all such Persons as were differentiated from the ordinary The Foregoing may sound Pipey, but if all the Boys who Belong could violate their Solemn Obligations and Snitch on what happens behind the Drawn Cur- tains, it would come out that most of the Benevolent Ku Kluxes are more or less Why, then, do the Fulgrove Blimleys climb a dark Stairway every evening, and give a certain number of Raps on the Door, and whisper a little Bunk through a Peek-Hole, and do other Things for which the High-School Frater- nities are severely punished? The Answer is that eventually each Frater who stays on the Job gets a chance to twinkle at the Olympian Revels in’ the Supreme Conclave. When first he is despatched, all bathed’ and barbered, as Special Emissary of the home Verein, he tries to leave the im- pression that he is a hard-working Patsy and serving under Protest, but after a few Pullman rides he blossoms out asa’ shameless Professional. ‘ He becomes one of ‘the Minutemen who keep their Grips packed and are ever ready to sacrifice Private Interests and step modestly into the Spot-Light. When one has climbed to a dizzy Pinnacle and is Record- ing Secretary of the United States Poland-China Breeders’ Association, the Wife and Children in the Valley below look very much foreshortened. _ One is not inclined to speak in disparagement of F. Blimley’s whetted Ambitions when One comes to learn that the Pomp and Glory of Conventions are more filling than Roast Beef and more exhilarating than Cocktails. For several Days previous to one of these sublime Pow- wows, it could be seen that Mr. Blimley was working himself into an Exalted Mood and accumulating Steam. ' He wrote many Letters and sent cabalistic Wires, mostly in regard to the Election of Officers, for many a benevolent Order is 8 per cent. Brotherly Love and g2 per cent. Tomahawk. Then there was the annual Report of the Sub-Committee on the Revision of By-Laws, proposing (Concduded on page 94) TCHEON— Run of Humanity by reason of their possessing Nettle-Rash. Out of the three founders of the new Society he could have selected at least a dozen Committees. There would have been a Constitu- tion, By-Laws, Ritualistic Description of Inside Stuff and Paraphernalia, and an Exposition of Symbols, prepared in Cipher. : Suppose the secret name of the Brotherhood to have been Philanthropic Hive Victims. ° Then the jeweled Pin worn by a . Member would have borne the mystic Leiters, P. H. V., which might mean Parrots Have Voices, Pickles Help Violinists; Pups Hate Vivisectionists, Papa Hires Veterinarians, Please Help Violet, or any other Fool Thing. ‘ To further tantalize and mislead the Outsiders, the official Emblem would have carried an engraved Representa- tion “of a Hive, which might easily be mistaken for Pike’s Peak, thereby add- - ing to its Value as a part of the oath- bound and underground Boshmarosh. Some are born Great: i — Tc some achieve Greatness, and others have it pinned on them 92 New Fables in Slang LF, |\\\ We | |
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Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 “In building for wen and j joy Though archly ith a frolicsome mind, This shows I'm a sensible boy.” wholesome invigorating introduction you want for any family meal. The Keystone Campbell’s Tomato Soup fits into your daily menu like a perfect keystone in a Roman arch. Almost every day you find some occasion where it seems as if this delicious soup was made expressly for that par- ticular use. Its exceptional quality and flavor make it the ideal soup- course for a company dinner or formal luncheon. Again, it provides exactly the You haven’t a food-product in your larder more acceptable and satisfying than Campbell’s Tomato Soup It is just the nourishing appetizer which the tired men folks crave when they come home ‘‘done up” from the day’s work. The children thrive on it. And yourself —busy and often fatigued from extra demands on your time and strength—find there is nothing which meets your physical needs more com- pletely than this delightful soup—so cost. always at hand when you want it. Clam Chowder Consommé Julienne Mock Turtle Asparagus Beef Bouillon Chic! Mulligatawny Mutton (Okra) Ox Tail Clam Bouillon nutritious, so tempting, so easily di- gested; and all ready for your enjoyment any time at three minutes’ notice. You can have it as light or as hearty as you choose. You can serve it plain —simply adding hot water, or as a rich Cream of Tomato—adding milk in- stead of water. And there are many other inviting ways to prepare it. Order it from your grocer by the dozen or the case. This lightens seatieid And you have the mainstay of a pleasing meal : i Pea Pepper Pot Printanier Tomato Tomato-Okra Vegetable Vermicelli-Tomato °SEPH Camp it j La A 40 AE 43 Wr ; ie =~ j \ | 4 / |. \ if i ny i = | it @ = 4 | HOOK. FOR Tre if
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Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 New Fables in Slang (Concluded from page 92) y | the Omission in Article 23, Section 7; of A few hours previous they had _ been the Comma following the word “‘Efferves- inconspicuous Units in their various Tank ” cent,” and the substitution therefor of a Towns. Semicolon. Now they are visiting Notables. That meant two or three Days’ hard Following Registration comes the proud work in the Library, and some long-dis- Moment when the Decoration is con- tance ‘phoning, because one Faction was ferred by the Royal Keeper of the Hard- bitterly opposed to the introduction of the ware. Semicolon, claiming that it would involve As soon as the Honored Guests are a distinct departure from the Traditions tagged, they are sent out for Exhibition that had been handed down in the Or- Purposes, undecided between the Buffet ganization ever since about 1898, which and the Manicure Parlor. meant that Blimley and the other fear- The metallic portion of an Official Badge less Revisers would have to be Alert seldom weighs more than a half-pound, and hold their Forces well in hand and and the unobtrusive Lettering of Gold on be prepared instanter to meet and repel Blue Satin is surmounted by only a few a Covert Attack from the Reaction- inches of Tassel, and yet this simple jaries and those who submitted blindly Decoration seems to transmogrify the ‘to the Leadership of Malcontents who Provincia] and make him a Dinger for were not in touch with the Modern two or three days at a Time. | Spirit now animating the Chapters through- In the overcrowded Office or Main jout the Length and Breadth of the Land Corral, Mr. Blimley found the familiar from Bangor, Maine, to San Diego, Cali- Sights which are the Joy and Reward of UN fornia. every Badge-Bug. Hence the Necessity of getting up a Re- He saw the Paper Suitcases piled in port that would cover all the Points. Barricades, the Struggle for Picture And so on. Post-Cards, the Brother from Kansas ee, Then the portentous Morning would who has slaked a long Thirst and arrive when Mr. Blimley had tomobilize passed away sitting up, the haggard himself and entrain, after giving due No- Clerk ordering the Porter to unfold more The A ache | tice to both of the Newspapers and re- Cots. p w@ |minding them that he was the K. M. B. He loved to hear the Boy paging “‘Mister . of the oth Province. Flooh-flah” and the shrill cry of “Front!” T | As soon as the Train had started for and the shuffle of Feet. : Yal Mecca, Delegate Blimley would move | Then the Important Conference in P down the Aisle and size up his Fellow Brother Felix McClure’s Bedroom and An automobile highway Passengers, and if he found one with a _ the Decision to bring in a Minority Report between Globe and Phoe- recent Hair Cut, he would take a Chance and fight it out on the Floor of the Con- nix, Arizona, affording a and flag him. vention. ; most pleasant diversion If the Challenged Party responded by There never was a national Snake-Dance - YCALIFORNI A placing the Right Hand on the Abdomen, at which something or other didn’t have then the Challenger would sit alongside to be fought out on the Floor of the || The Cliff Dwellings, seen of him and begin to warm his Ear Convention. . |] from the “Trail,” consti- with important Dope delivered at Short When Brother meets Brother, then tute only one of many Range. somebody gets bit in the Arm. objects of interest in this For the inside Machinery of any Associ- Let us not forget the long wait for land of vast canyons and ation of Indefinite Purpose and the ap- Food in the disorganized Restaurant, varied scenery. Reached parent Specific Gravity of a Gas Balloon the 65 minutes of Drool by the Past | via the are more complicated than the Russian Grand Wallopus, ee ee substi- . Political Situation. tution of the Semicolon for the Comma, | - SUNSET ROUTE a If a lot of confirmed Propagandists start and the Automobile Tour of the City, for the big Camp Fire and find that no with little Boys cheering and all the New Orleans —San Antonie — Business of Importance is in sight, then Lads from Squantamville and Silo sitting Los Angeles—San Francisco some Comrade always gets busy and_ back trying to appear unmoved and un- : : cooks up an Issue just to enliven the Pro- concerned. ceedings. Will Mr. Blimley order one of the Flash- nection with the Usually it is a Resolution either approv- Light Photographs taken just before the ‘ SUNSET LIMITED ing or panning to a Whisper something Stevedores bring in the Warm Oysters geographically remote. and the Cold Soup? ; Illustrated booklet sent free Mr. Blimley seldom left home without — Aye; that will he, provided the Picture , upon request carrying at least one Resolution, fully finds him prominently in the Foreground, | loaded with Explosives and supplied’with and it is pretty hard for a Picture to | a Fuse. find him anywhere else. ’ Souther Nn The war wes a Godsend to the Reso- What if Blimley does return home with : luters. his Feet pointed in the wrong Direction Pacific Lines and the Lamps a mite bleary and Cinders 1 ; Let us observe the eager Pilgrims alight- under the ae ci 1 : . ing at Union Station. He can truthfully report to the Missus ' The official Greeters rush forward, glad- and to the Local Branch that the Show nomial. handing with the Grip, but doing it well was an enormous Success and an Inspira- Southern Pacific Under Cover, so that the Station Policeman _ tion to all the Faithful. |. and the Man on the Gate will not be Next. hern Pacific Now we see the Guests of Honor riding Moral: Some are born Great; some j Building to the Hotel, convoyed by busy little achieve Greatness, and others have it pinned Explainers. on them. The next New Fable in Slang, that of The Straight and Narrow Path leading k to the Refreshment Counter, will appear in January Cosmopolitan. 94 = | |. |
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The Education of PAT AS A Modern Cook See It in Any Van Camp Dish—The Difference Will Amaze You The cooks employed in Van Camp kitchens are now college trained. They must know chemistry, because materials are now selected by analysis. And every cooking process is directed from the laboratory. They must know dietetics—must know food hygiene. For right cooking, above all! else, means fit food. They must have scientific training, for science means exagt- ness. All guesswork is abandoned in these kitchens at Van Camp's. Mark the Difference Under old methods cooks used chance materials. Here seeds and soils are studied. Materials grown to order. Then analysis reveals their exact com- positions. Recipes used to be inexact. They were pleasing but haphazard blends—never perfect, never scientific. In the Van Camp kitchens every formula is elaborate Van Camp’s Pork and Beans and. exact. Some cover pages An economical dish, more nutritious than meat, and made a delicacy of minute instructions. On some our experts have spent years. Some have been perfected by a thousand tests. And each insures that a Van Camp dish never varies an iota. A score of details used to be guessed at. Now every detail has a scientific basis. The aim of all is ideal quality and flavor and perfect digestibility. As a result, every Van Camp dish is a supreme creation. It Van Camp’s Soups Each made from a formula which no man canimprove. There are 18 kinds VAN Pork«BEANS was always our premier dish. Also Baked Without the Sauce THREE SIZES Prepared in the Van Camp Kitchens at Indianapolis embodies every possible betterment. Some are ten times better than old-time dishes. Each is a masterpiece of culinary art. We urge you to make comparisons. See what vast difference these new methods make. It will bring you new respect for the tech- nical schools of today. Our Premier Creation specialized That These expert cooks have on Van Camp’s Pork and Beans. Now the beans we use are grown on special soils. Each lot is analyzed before we start to cook, for each lot needs a somewhat different treatment. The water used is freed from minerals. The beans are baked by super-heated steam, to apply a fierce heat without crisping. But the steam doesn’t touch the beans. The tomato sauce per- fected by testing 856 formulas. It is unique in tang and zest and flavor. It is baked with the pork and beans, so every atom shares it. Van Camp’s Spaghetti Made from a formula which we value at $500,000. Italian style but not was Italian quality The result is mealy beans, easy to digest. Beans uncrisped and unbroken. And beans with a wondrous savor. Please order some now. They will be a revelation. good this dish can be when properly prepared. Van Camp’s Peanut Butter Made from a blend of Spanish and Vir- ginia peanuts roasted exactly right. It means multiplied delights Learn how Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 95 | VB
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96 Don’t Grope for Words Give Grenville Kleiser (famous Speech Specialist) 15 minutes daily and He Will Give You a Mastery of Words There are no old-fashioned wearisome rules of grammar to memorize. By an entirely new plan you absorb and immediately apply the fruits of years of teaching experience which are comprest into twenty intimate home lessons. i devote 15 minutes daily tot this orig- yurse you will quickly and surely learn to Enlarge Your Stock of Words— Use the Right Word in the Right Place — Write Tactful, Forceful Letters, Advertisements, Stories, Ser- mons, Treatises, Ete.— Become an Engaging Conversa- tionalist — Enter Good Society — Be a Man of Culture, Power, and Influence in Your Community. Booth Tarkington Distinguished Novelist and Short-Story Writer, Author Monsieur Beaucaire,” *‘Seventeen,’ etc. “Your course is almost pain- fully needed by many profes- sional writers and speakers. A student who intelligently follows your course will know what he is talking about when he talks or when he writes. His audience will certainly know, because he will talk well, no matter what his subject.” Mary Roberts Rinehart Fminent Novelist, Dramatist. and War-C. orres pond- ent, Author of “Kings, Queens and Pawns,” etc. “Your lessons seem to me ex- tenn for the purpose. Also the selection of books for study appeals to me_ very strongly. It looks like a scholarly and most intelligently compiled course of instruction and w riting.” FREE **How to Become a Master of English’’ We want you to read this booklet that you may understand what this course will do for you, the real practical help it will give you in a different ways. Obtain a mastery of E) realize your own possibilities. Be yoursel at your pest. It means more money, more power, more life in every way. SIGN AND MAIL THIS COUPON NOW Funk & Company Dept. 90, New York ‘ Please send Booklet and full information regarding Grenville Kleiser’s Correspondence Course in English. Nome .... Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 The Stimulant (Continued from page 67) knew Henry Calverly not at all. And Miss Wombast, could she have looked in, would have been thrilled and frightened, perhaps to the point of never speaking to Henry again. As the scene has a bearing on the later events of the day, we will take a look. They stood in the butler’s pantry, Henry and Corinne. The shards of a shattered coffee-cup lay unobserved at their feet. Out in the kitchen sink, all the silver and the other cups and _ saucers lay in the rinsing-rack, the soap-suds dry on them. Henry held Corinne in his arms. He was kissing deliberately her eyes, her temples, her ears, stroking her hair. “Henry,” she whispered, must finish the dishes!” “Not till I get ready,” murmured Henry. “Having too good a time right here.” “Tt must be all hours. What on earth will Mildred think?” “Let her think,’’ said Henry, close to her ear, and again there was silence. Corinne leaned back against the shelves, disengaged her hands long enough to smooth her hair, then let them rest on his shoulders and looked at him. “We'll hurry and finish the dishes,” she murmured; then, a little later: “‘Hen- ry—for goodness’ sake! You take my breath away! I never thought “Never thought what?” “Wait! My hair’s all down again. They might come out here. I mean, you seemed——”’ “How did I seem? Say it!” “Oh, well—Henry—I mean sort of— well, reserved. I thought you were shy.” “Think so now?” -‘T—well, no. Not exactly. Really, Henry, you mustn’t be so—so intense.” “But I am intense! I’m not the way I look. Nobody knows—’’ Here he inter- rupted himself. “Oh, Henry!” she breathed, her head on his shoulder now, her arm clinging about his neck. He felt very manly. Life, ‘‘ real” life, whirled, glowed, sparkled about him. “You dear boy—I'm afraid you’ve made love to lots of girls! You’re so—so——” “T haven't!” he protested, with un- questionable sincerity. ‘“‘Not to lots. Maybe you don’t like the way I make love.” “Silly!” <A silence. draw even closer to him. ‘Henry, talk to me! Make love to me! Tell me you'll take me away with you—to-day—now! Make me feel how wonderful it would be! Say it, anyway—even if—oh, Henry, say it!” For an instant, Henry’s mind went cold and clear. He was a little frightened. He found himself wondering if this tem- pestuous young woman who clung so to him could possibly be the easy, lazy, comfortably smiling Corinne. He thought Then he felt her | of Carmen—the Carmen of Calvé. He | had suped once in that opera down at the Auditorium. He was making love to her at this moment, while his thoughts so coolly ranged. But he felt inadequate. The thrill of the conqueror was his. But he was beginning to feel that this was enough, that he had best rest his case, perhaps, at this point. As for asking her to fly away with him he couldn’t conscientiously so much as ask her to have dinner with him in Chicago. Not in the present state of his pocket. One fact, however, emerged: He must have it out .with old Boice. Settle that salary business. He’d have to. The door from dining-room to kitchen opened—rather slowly. There was a light step in the kitchen, and Mildred Henderson’s musical little voice humming the theme of the andante from the Fifth Symphony. Henry and Corinne leaped apart. They heard her at thesink. Rins- ing the dishes and the silver, doubtless. “Hate to disturb you two,” she called; “but I promised Humphrey I’d get after you, Henry. He says you simply must get some work done to-day.” Henry stood motionless, trying to think. Corinne, moving with hardly a rustle, slid her arm again about his neck. She wanted him to kiss her again, of course. ‘Do your work here,” she whispered. He shook his head. “A lot I’d get done—here with you.” “Please. I'll help you. Couldn’t I be just a little inspiration to you?” “Tt ain’t inspiring work.” “ Henry—write something for me! Write 99 me a poem! “All right. Not to-day, though. Gotta do this darn Business Men’s Picnic.” With an odd feeling of cold detachment, he kissed her again. Then he said, “Wait a minute,” pushed her away, went into the kitchen. “Going over town,” he remarked, off- hand, to Mrs. Henderson. At the outer door, Corinne murmured, “You'll come back, Henry?” With a vague little wave of one hand and a perplexed expression, he replied, “Yes, of course.’ And hurried off. Mr. Boice wasn’t at his desk at the Voice sanctum. Henry could see that much through the front window. He didn’t goin. He felt that he couldn’t talk with Humphrey—or anybody—tight now. Ex- cept old Boice. He was gunning for him. Equal to him, too. Equal to anything. Could lick a regiment. He found his employer down at the post-office. In his little den behind the money-order window. He asked Miss Hemple, there, if he could please speak to Mr. Boice. Once again on this eventful day, that conservative member of the village trium- virate found himself forced to gaze at the dressy if now slightly rumpled youth with a silly little mustache that he couldn’t seem to let go of, and the thin bamboo stick with a crook at the end. The youth ° whose time was so valuable that he couldn’t arrange to do his work. And once again irritation stirred behind the spotted, round- ed-out vest and the thick, wavy, yellowish white whiskers. He sat back in his swivel-chair, looked at Henry with lusterless eyes, made sounds. “Mr. Boice,” said Henry, “I—I want to speak with you. It’ s—it’s this: way: I don’t feel that you’re doing quite the right thing by me.” Another sound from the editor-postmaster. Then silence. r= | | | | | | | Street and No. or R. F. D. 1 Post-O fice | 1 Date State |
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CHOCOz * ‘Somewhere the boys are drinking a. BAKER'S COCOA toast to mothers, fathers,wives or sweethearts. Delicious as dreams of home 3 Booklet of Choice Recipes sent free. WALTER BAKER & CO. LTD. ESTABLISHED 1780 DORCHESTER, MASS. ‘ Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 97 Sp | } : = = - & ~ 4 ; {
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‘Try old Musterole For sore muscles or lame back or for any- body’s rheumatism, there is nothing quite like Musterole. It brings quicker relief than a mustard plaster; and it makes no muss and brings no blister. You just this clean, white ointment = oil of mustard, and rub i ently on the spot. hat a sense of cool- enetrating, delightful ae First: you feel a = then there comes a delightful coolness that seems to "way down. ually the pain goes while you are using it. There is neither bother, nor muss, nor blister, nor danger. For Musterole is simply made from oil of mustard and a few home sim- ples. It penetrates and will not blister. Yet it will generate heat; and this disperses the congestion. Peculiarly enough Musterole feels delightfully cool a few mo- ments after you have applied it. Remember: as you rub it m usually the pain goes. Never be without a jar of Musterole. Many doctors and nurses recom- mend Musterole. 30c and 60c jars— $2.50 hospital size. The Musterole Co., Cleveland, he be the ot Bu ST PAT. ofp ER LAW Four Courses: College, Post-Graduate, Business Law and Bar Ex. Review. Classes ‘in eacl Approved " and Ber. University Methods, Standard Text- Books, Cases, Moot Court. Graduates Successful. Special Free Offer — Write for and Rules for Admission to the Bar and F; CHICAGO SPON DENCE ¢ or LAW 10 Reaper Block, Chicago High School Course in Two Years In Spare Time Here is a th ter ap ae complete, simplified High School Course that can two years, Meets college requirements, Don't Stop Growing! on Train your brain! Broad: zor tal vision! high school educe- ion your < ‘or success in High-Grade Instruction by CORRESPONDENCE Prepares You for the Bar Make up | forLost Time! natural ability. Menand women who were denied a higb- High Schoo! IBook Free Send your name on Prated Be lutely Correspondence American School of Dept. P1049 Chicago, course at home. u prof- ited by this remark- able opportunity. “You gave me to-understand that I’d get better pay if I suited. ell, the way you're doing it, I don’t even get as much. It ain’t right. It ain’t square. Now— well—you see, I’ve about come to the conclusion that if the work I do ain’t worth ten a week—well——” Mr. Boice clasped his hands on his stomach and sat still. Henry chafed. After a time, Mr. Boice asked, ‘“‘Have you done the story of the Busi- ness Men’s Picnic?” Henry shook his head. “Better get it done, hadn’t you?” Henry shook his head again. Mr. Boice continued to sit—motion- less, expressionless. His thoughts ran to this effect: The article on the picnic was by far the most important matter of the whole summer. Every advertiser on Simpson Street looked for whole para- graphs about himself and his family. Henry was supposed to cover it. He had been there. It would be by no means easy now to work up a proper story from any other quarter. “ Suppose,” ahead and get the story in. have a little talk if you like. busy this afternoon.” He tried to say it ingratiatingly, but it sounded like all other sounds that passed his lips—colorless, casual. Henry stood up very stiff, drew in a deep breath or two. His fingers tightened about his stick. His color rose. ““Mr. Boice,” he said, firmly if huskily, and a good deal louder than was desirable, here in the post-office, within ear-shot of the money-order window, “Mr. Boice, what I want from you won’t take two min- utes of your time. You'd better tell me right now whether I’m worth ten dollars a week to the Voice. Beginning this week. If I’mnot, I'll hand in my string Saturday and quit. Think I can’t do better’n this? I wonder! You wait till about next No- vember. Maybe I’ll show the whole crowd of you a thing or two! Maybe——” For the second time on this remarkable day, the unexpected happened to and through Norton P. Boice. Slowly, with an effort and a grunt, he got to his feet. Color appeared in his face above the whiskers. He pointed a huge, knobby finger at the door. “Get out of here!” he roared. ‘‘And stay out!” Henry hesitated, swung away, turned back to face him, finally obeyed. Jobless, stirred by a rather fascinating sense of utter catastrophe, thinking, with a sudden renewai of exultation, about Corinne, Henry wandered up to the Y. M. C. A. rooms and idly, moodily, aces shooting crokinole counters. Shortly he wandered out. An over- powering restlessness was upon him. He wanted desperately to do something, but he remarked, “you go Then we can I’m rather didn’t know what it could be. It was as if a live wild animal, caged within his breast, was struggling to get out. He walked over to Humphrey’s rooms, back of the Parmenter place. He was living there now. He threw off his coat, tried fooling at the piano, gave it up, and took to pacing the floor. There were peculiar difficulties here, in the big living-room that Humphrey had fitted up so comfortably. Corinne had spent an evening here. She had sat in this chair and that, had danced over the Cosmopolitun for December, 1917 hard-wood floor, had smiled on him. The place without her was painfully empty. He knew now that he wanted to write. But he didn’t know what. The wild ani-- mal was a story. Ora play. Ora poem. Perhaps the poem Corinne had begged for. He stood in the middle of the room, closed his eyes, and saw and felt Corinne close to him. In his arms. It was a mad but sweet reverie. Yes; surely it was the poem! He found pencil and paper—a wad of copy-paper, and curled up in the window-seat. Things were not right.’ Not yet. He was the victim of wild forces. They were tearing at him. It was no longer restless- ness—it was a mighty passion. It was uncomfortable and thrilling. Queer that the impulse to write should come so over- whelmingly without giving him, so far, a hint as to what he was to write! Yet it was not vague. He had to doit. And at . once. Find the right place and go straight at it. It would come out. It would have to come out. Mr. Boice came heavily into the Voice office and sank into his creaking chair by the front window. Humphrey went swiftly, steadily through galley after galley of proof. He smoked his cob pipe as he worked. Mr. Boice drew a few sheets of copy- paper from a pigeonhole, took up a pencil. in his stiff fingers, and gazed down over his whiskers. It was a decade or more since the editor of the Voice had done any actual work. Every day he dropped quiet suggestions, whispered a word of guidance to this or that lieutenant, and listened to assorted ideas and opinions. But tocom- pose and write out three columns of his own ° paper was hopelessly beyond him. It called for youth or for the long habit of a country hack. For an‘hour he sat there. Gradually, Humphrey became aware of him. It was odd, anyway, that he should be here. He seldom returned in the afternoon. Finally, he looked over at the younger man and made sounds. Humphrey raised his head, removed his pipe. ‘Guess you better fix up a little account of the Business Men’s Picnic, Weaver,” he remarked. “Henry’s doing that.” Mr. Boice’s massive head moved slowly sidewise. “No,” he said; ‘“‘he won’t be doing it.” Humphrey leaned back in his chair. His face wrinkled reflectively; his brows knotted. He held-up his pipe, rubbed the warm cob with the palm of his hand. Mr. Boice got up and moved toward the door. “T’ve let Henry go,” he said. Humphrey went on rubbing his pipe, squinting at it. Mr. Boice paused in the door, looked back. “T’ll ask you to attend to it, Weaver.” Humphrey shook his head. Mr. Boice stood looking at him. “No,” said Humphrey; “‘afraid I can’t help you out.” Mr. Boice stood motion- less. There was no expression on his face, but Humphrey knew what the steady look meant. He added, “‘I wasn’t there.” Still Mr. Boice stood. Humphrey took a fresh galley-proof from the hook and fell to work at it. After a little, Mr. Boice moved back to his desk and creaked | q | | | | | cts, le hours at home without inte Dat | simplified
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100 Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 Pictures from Home Over there, with thousands of miles of sea and land between them and home, are Our Boys, smiling and fighting—fighting with bullets, against a dogged foe; with smiles, fighting homesickness and dread monotony. It’s a part of the nation’s job to-day to keep those boys cheerful, to hold fast the bonds between camp and home, to make light hearts and smiling faces—and these things pictures can help to do— pictures of the home folks and the home doings, pictures of the neighbors, pictures that will enliven their memories of the days before the war—simple Kodak pictures, such as you can make. These can help. EASTMAN KODAK CO., RocHEsTer, N. Y. = ( do for | | he | | Su} mi | be be tir at Be wi a] | | Lik | W or to as m | de ge di in ki he he tl fir H s! OL hi ni in I] di H al fl h h
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Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 down into his chair. Again he reached for the copy-paper. Humphrey, in a merciful moment when he was leaving for the day, thought of pgm: | that Murray Johnston, local an for the City Press Association, might be called on in the emergency. He had been at the picnic. He could write the story easily enough if he could spare the time. A faint smile flitted across his face at the reflection that it would cost old Boice five or six times what he was usually willing to pay in the Voice. But Mr. Boice, bending over the desk, a pencil gripped in his fingers, a sentence in my life saw such concentration. It seems that he’s promised Corinne a poem.” “Wonder what’s got into him,” Hum- phrey mused. Mildred returned to her salad- dressing. “Genius has got into him,” she said, a bright little snap in her eyes, ‘and it’s coming out. He’s been up there nearly +wo hours now. Corinne’s guarding. She’d kill you if you disturbed him.” “Hm,” said Humphrey. - “Humphrey, my dear,” said Mildred then, ‘I’m really afraid we’ve got to watch those two a little. Something’s been happening to-day. Corinne has A “Penrod Serial By Booth Tarkington The irrepressible Penrod, coming under the powerful influence of motion-picture plays, loses his sympathy for bandits, pirates, - and the like, and ranges himself on the side of Jaw. and order.’ He develops a new ambition and-aim in life, and, merging his personality in one of his own creation, George B. Jashber, a fa- F mous detective, embarks on a series of adventures which go quite beyond his previous amazing exploits. These are related in Penrod Jashber, a serial, the first instalment of which appears in January Cosmopolitan. or two written and crossed out on the top sheet of copy-paper, did not so much as lift his eyes. And Humphrey, his lips compressed tightly on the suggestion he might have made, went on out. Humphrey let himself into Mrs. Hen- derson’s front hall, closed the screen door gently behind him, and looked about the dim interior. There seemed to be no one in the living-room. The girls were in the kitchen, doubtless, getting supper. Mildred had faithfully promised not to bother cooking anything hot. He hung up his hat. Then he saw a feminine figure up the stairs, curled up on the top step. It was Corinne. She was pressing her finger to her lips and shaking her head. He peered up at her and saw that she was smiling mysteriously. She motioned him out toward the kitchen. There he found his hostess. “Seen Henry?” he asked. “Old Boice fired him to-day.”’ ‘“‘He’s here,” said Mildred. ‘A very interesting thing is happening, Humphrey. i: ve always told you he was a genius.” what’s up?” ‘““We’ve got him up-stairs at my desk. Ile’s writing something. I think it’s a »oem for Corinne.” “A poem! But——” “It’s really quite Now don’t you go and throw cold water on it, Humphrey.” She came over, very trim and pretty in her long apron, her face flushed with the heat of the stove, slipped her hand through his arm, and looked up at him. “It’s really very exciting. He came in here, all out of breath, and said he had to write. He’s quite wild. I never gone perfectly mad over him—to-day— all of a sudden. She fretted every minute he was away. Henry doesn’t know it, but Corinne is a pretty self-willed girl. And just now she’s got her mind on him.’’ She came over again, took his arm, and looked up at Humphrey. She was at once sophis- ticated and confiding. ‘I’ve really been worrying a little about them. About Henry | particularly, for some reason.’ She gave a soft little laugh, and pressed his arm. “They’re so young, Humphrey—such green little things. Or he is, at least. I’ve been impatient for you to come.” “T got down as soon as I could.” “Of course. I know.” “T’ve been worrying about him, too.” When the supper was ready, Mildred made Humphrey sit at the table and her- self tiptoed up the stairs. She came back smiling, as if at her own thoughts. ‘‘He won’t eat,” she explained. still at it.” ‘‘Corinne coming down?” “Not she. She won’t budge from the stairs. And she flared up when I suggested bringing up a tray. I never thought that Corinne was romantic, but—well, it gives us a nice little /éfe-d-/éte supper. I’ve made iced coffee, Humphrey. Just dip into the salad, won’t you?” After supper, they went out to the hall. Corinne, still on the top step, had switched on the light and was’ sorting out a pile of loose sheets. She beckoned to them. They came tiptoeing up the stairs. “T can’t make it out,’’ she whispered. “Tt isn’t poetry. And he doesn’t number his pages.” “How did you ever get them?” asked Mildred. 1of The “Comer” The bright eye— the alert look— the snappy | gait— the general “make good” appearance —ALL are char- acteristic of men who avoid harmful articles of diet and choose the best “good things” to eat and drink. Instant Postum is chosen by thou- sands of “coming” men as their regu- lar table beverage, not only for its de- lightful flavor, but because it is free from harmful in- gredients, such as caffeine, the drug in coffee and tea. “There’s a Reason” POSTUM | | t | = |
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“Went in and gathered them up. He Clectric didn’t hear me. He’s still at it.” Humphrey reached for the sheets, Vb, Va ' held them to the light, read bits of this | sheet and that, found a few that went to- gether and read them in order, finally turned a wrinkled, astonished face to the two young women. “What is it?” they asked. He chuckled softly. “Well, it isn’t poetry.” “T saw that much,’”’ Corinne murmured rather mournfully. “Tt’s—wait a minute! I couldn't be- P| lieve it at first. Yes; that’s what it is.” “What!” | “It’s an account of the Business Men’s | Picnic.” Then Humphrey dropped down at | Mildred’s feet and laughed, softly at first, then with increasing vigor. Mildred clapped her hand over his mouth:and ran him down the stairs and through into the living-room. There they dropped side by side on the sofa and laughed until | tears came. Corinne, laughing a little herself now, but perplexed, followed them. “Here,” said Humphrey, when he could speak; “‘let’s get into this.” They moved to the table. Humphrey f' spread out the pages and skimmed them @ over with a practised eye, arranging as he read. Once he muttered, ‘What on earth!”’ And shortly after, ‘‘Why, the young devil!” “Please,” said Corinne; “please! I ' want to know what it is.” Humphrey stacked up the sheets and wf laid them on the table he remarked, “‘it is certainly an | account of the Business Men’s Picnic. Save Magazine Money And it certainly was not written for the | Weekly Voice of Sunbury. Vl start in a one J.M. Hanson-Bennett Magazine Agency, minute and read it though. But from is the largest in the world, furnishes any magazine , what I’ve seen—well, while it may be a or newspaper, at amazingly low prices, little Kiplingesque — naturally — still it 1918 Cat talog }<: listing more than 3,000 comes pretty close to being a work of art. offers, is a money-saving cae. “awn: “Ten you what the boy’s done. He’s your name and address on post card today and get | gone at that little community outing just this big catalog free. Do it no oe Agents Wanted Write for fu full as an artistic god would have gone at it. J. M. Hanson-Bennett Magazine A ency As if he’d never seen any of these Simpson 102 Brooks Saag. CHICAG - ILI. Street folks before. Berger, the grocer, — seer and William F. Donovan, and Mr. Wom- bast, and Charlie Waterhouse, and ‘’es- ton of the bank, and—and, here, the little Dutchman that runs the lunch-counter down by the tracks, and Heinie Schultz, and Bill Schwartz, and old Boice. It’s a crime what he’s done to Boice. If this ever appears, Sunbury will be too small for Henry Calverly. But oh, it’s grand writing! He’s got ’em all in—their clothes, their littlke mannerisms, their tricks of speech. Wait; Ill read it!” Forty minutes later, the three sat back in their chairs, weak from laughter. : “One thing I don’t quite understand,” said Mildred. “It’s a lovely bit of writing he makes you see it and feel it—where Mr. Boice and Charles Waterhouse were around behind the lemonade-stand, and Mr. Waterhouse is upset because the purse No expensive treatment you could take from a professional masseuse would make your skin any smoother, your color better or your hair more luxuriant than will the massage you can give yourself with La Vida. Write for free book. La Vida cannot get out of order; is guaranteed to last for years; uses alternating current only. If your dealer hasn’t La Vida, send us $5 ($7.50 in Canada). We will refund your money if unsatisfactory. 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G A rd Bros. _they’re going to surprise him with for tna being the most popular man in town isn’t en large enough. What is all that, anyway?” Street, “T know,” said Humphrey. ‘I was as” | wondering about that. It’s funny as the | dickens, those two birds out there behind the lemonade- stand, quarreling about it. | It’s—let’s see—oh, yes! And Boice says: | ‘It won’t help you to worry, Charlie. | We're doing what we can for you. But GOS HOO GH 9909 90 00H 00 @ Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 it’ll take time. And it’sa chance.’ Funny!” He lowered the manuscript and stared.at the wall. “Hm,” he remarked thought- fully, “I’m thinking that Bob McGibbon would give a hundred dollars for this story as it stands right now.” “Why? ” “Because he’s gunning for Charlie. And for Boice.” “And what’s this?’ “Evidence.” Humphrey was _ grave. “Not quite it. But warm. Very warm.” “He’s really stumbled on something? How perfectly lovely!” “And he doesn’t know it. Sees nothing but the story-value of it. But it may be serious. They’d duck him in the lake. They’d drown him.” ‘But how lovely if Henry, by one stroke of his pencil, should puncture the frauds in this smug, respectable sham town!” “There is something in that,’’ mused Humphrey “Sh,” from Mildred. They heard a slow step on the stairs. A moment, and Henry appeared in the doorway. He stopped short when he saw them. His glasses hung dangling against his shirt-front. He was coatless, but plainly didn’t know it. His straight brown hair was rumpled up on one side and down in a shock over the farther eye. He was pale, and looked tired about the eyes. He carried more of the manuscript. He stared at them as if he couldn’t quite make them out, or as if not sure he had met them. Then he brushed a hand across his forehead and slowly, rather wanly, smiled. “T had no idea it was so late,” he said. Mildred and Corinne fed him and petted him while Humphrey drew a big chair into the dining-room, smoked cigarette after cigarette, and studied the brightening, expanding youth before him. He reflected too, on the curious, instant responsiveness that is roused in woman at the first evi- dence of the creative impulse ina man. As if the elemental mother were moved. “That’s probably it,’ he thought. “And it’s what the boy has needed. Martha Caldwell couldn’t give it to him— never in the world! He was groping to find it in that tough little Wilcox girl.- It wouldn’t do to tell him— No; I mustn’t tell him; got to steady him down all I can— but I rather guess he’s been needing a Mil- dred and a Corinne. These two years.” Humphrey stood up then, said he was going out for half an hour, and picked up the manuscript from the living-room table as he passed. He went straight to Boice’s house on upper Chestnut Avenue. “What has all this to do with me?’ asked Mr. Boice, behind closed doors in his roomy library. ‘Let him write any- thing he likes!” Humphrey sat back, slowly turned the pages of the manuscript “This,” he said, “is a real piece of writing. It’s the best picture of a com- munity outing I ever read in my life. It’s vivid. The characters are so real that a stranger, after reading this, could walk up Simpson Street and call fifteen people by name. It is humor of the finest kind. But they won’t know it on Simpson Street. They'll be sore as pups, every man. He’s taken their skulls off and looked in.” This sounded pretty highfalutin to _Mr. Boice. He made a reflective sound, then remarked, | | | | | | |
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Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 Margaret Matzenauer of the Metropolitan Opera CWouldn’t Marie Rappold of the Metropolitan Opera Anna ry of the Metropolitan Opera these Netropolitan Stars as your Christmas Guests ? OULDN’T it be a pleasure to be able to sit down amidst the comfortable surroundings of your own home and listen to Anna Case, Marie Rappold, Margaret Matzenauer, Arthur Middleton, Thomas Chalmers, and the other great singers of the world? That would be a privilege, wouldn’t it? We said would be a privilege. But thanks to the genius of Thomas A. Edison it is a privilege which is now within your grasp. So far as the enjoyment of their voices is concerned you can actually have this distinguished group as Yuletide guests. You can sit in your own home and revel in the beauty of their magnificent voices. NEW EDISON The Phonograph with a Soul’? ou like to have Arthur Middleion of the Metropolitan’ Opera reproduces the human voice with such fidelity and accuracy that no human ear can detect a shade of difference between the living artists and the New Edison’s Re-Creation of their voices—or instru- mental performances. You will, very naturally, feel skeptical about so strong a claim. But before hun- . dreds of audiences we have conducted ~ our famous “tone tests” in which the in- strument was pitted against the artist and invariably the verdict was the same; no difference could be detected. In a “tone test,” the artist sings in his natural voice; then suddenly ceases, leaving the instrument to continue the song alone. Thirty different great artists have made these tests. More than one million people have attended the tests and not one of them has been able to tell, except by watching the singer’s lips, when the living voice left off and when the New Edison began. With the lights lowered not one could tell when the change took place. 500 unprejudiced newspaper critics who witnessed the re- citals unite in this assertion. In this new instrument Mr. Edison has actually suc- ceeded in re-creating the human voice. We have never heard of any sound- producing device whose manufacturer dared to risk so relentless a trial. Until the New Edison was perfected such an achievement was undreamed of. The actual photographs reproduced on this page depict five Metropolitan Opera Stars singing in direct comparison with the New Edison’s Re-Creation of their voices. No listener could detect the slightest shade of difference between the living voices and their Re-Creation. A ROYAL GIFT It Means a Richer Life As a Christmas gift what can surpass this wonderfulinstrument? It is like a permanent pass to all the operas, all the concerts, all the music of the whole world. It does actually add something real and vital to life. Have you ever considered the New Edison as a family gift? Nowadays many families are eliminating the smaller individual pres- ents to one another and are pooling their holi- day funds for the acquisition of “the phono- graph with a soul.” We believe that you'd find our literature of interest. It’s different from the usual catalog style. Drop usa lineand we'llsend you copies of our musical magazine, “Along Broadway.” . of the brochure, “Music’s Re-Creation,” and of the booklet, “What the Critics Say.” Or call at the nearest licensed Edison mer- chant in your vicinity and receive a dem- enstration of the New Edison. He advertises in your local papers. THOMAS A. EDISON, INC., Orange, N. J. 103 | | —» | l | | | 4 | | | | | | | | | | | id | | | | | | | q
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Or if he didn’t have the nerve to print it, any Sunday editor in Chicago would eat it alive.” “Well, what——” Humphrey quietly interrupted. “Little scenes all through. Funny as ‘Pickwick.’ There really is a touch of genius in it. Handles you pretty roughly. But they’d laugh. No doubt about that. All sorts of scenes—you and Charlie Wa- terhouse behind the lemonade-stand He read on to himself. But he knew that Mr. Boice sat up stiffly in his chair with a grunt. He heard him rise ponder- ously and move down the room then come back. When he spoke, Humphrey, aware of his perturbation, was moved to momentary admiration by his apparent calmness. He sounded just as usual. “What are you getting at?” he asked. “You want something?” “T want you to take Henry back at— say, twelve a week.” “Hm. Have him rewrite this?” “No. Henry won’t be able to write another word this week. He’s empty. My idea is, Mr. Boice, that you’ll want to do the cutting yourself. When you’ve done that, I'll pitch in on the rewrite. We can get our three columns out of it, all right.” Hm.” “There’s one thing you may be sure of: Henry doesn’t know what he’s written. No idea. It’s a flash of pure genius.” “Don’t know that we’ve got much use for a genius on the Voice,” grunted Mr. Boice. ‘He ought to go to Chicago or New York.” “He will, some day.’”’ Humphrey rose. “Will you send for him in the morning?” There was a long silence. Then a sound. Then, “Tell him to come around.” “Twelve a week, including this week?” The massive yellowish gray head inclined slowly. ‘Very well; [’ll tell him.” “You can leave the manuscript here, Weaver.” “No.” Humphrey deliberately folded it and put it in an inside pocket. ‘Henry will have to give it to you himself. It’s his. Good-night.” Out on the street, Humphrey reflected, with a touch of exuberance rare in his life: “We won’t either of us be long on the Voice. Not now. But it’s great going while it lasts.” And he wondered, with a little stir of excitement, just why that purse wasn’t enough for Charlie Waterhouse—just what old Boice knew. Why, it was a chance! Curious! Something back of it, something that McGibbon was eternally pounding at—hinting—insinuating. Some- thing real there; something that might never be known. Humphrey felt that the little triumph —though it might indeed prove temporary; any victory over old Boice in Sunbury afiairs was likely to be that—called for celebrating in some special degree. He had, it seemed, a few bottles of beer at the rooms. Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 So thither they adjourned, Mildred and Humphrey strolling slowly ahead, Corinne and Henry strolling still more slowly behind. Henry seemed fagged. At least, he was quiet. Corinne, stirred with a sympathetic interest not common to her sort of nature, stole hesitant glances at him, even finally, slipped her hand through his arm. She hung back. Mildred and Humphrey disappeared in the shadows of the maples a block ahead. “T suppose you’re pretty tired,” Corinne murmured. Her voice seemed to waken him out of a dream. “‘T—I—what was that? Why, I don’t know. Sort of.” Her hand slipped down his forearm, within easy reach of his; but he was unaware. frightfully excited,’ he said, brightening. “If you knew what this meant to me! Feeling like this. The Power—but you wouldn’t know what that meant. Only, it lifts me up. I know I’m all right now. It’s been an awful two years. You’ve no idea. Drudgery. Plugging along. But I’m up again now. I can do it any time I want. I’m free of this darn town. They can’t hold me back now.” “You'll do big things,” mournful note in her voice. “T know. I feel that.” And now she stopped short. In a shadow. ‘‘What is it?” he asked, casually. ‘‘What’s the matter?” She glanced at his face, then down. “Do you think you’ll write a—poem?” she asked, almost sullenly. “Maybe. I don’t know. It’s queer— you get all stirred up inside, and then something comes. You can’t tell what it’s going to be. . It’s as if it came from out- side yourself. You know. Spooky.” She moved on now, bringing him with her. ‘Mildred and Humphrey’ll wonder where we are,”’ she said crossly. Henry glanced down at her, then at the shadowy arch of maples ahead. He wondered what was the matter with her. Girls were, of course, notoriously difficult. Never knew their own minds. He was exultantly happy. It had been a great day. Twelve a week now, and going up! Hump was a good old soul. He re- called, with a recurrence of both the thrill and the conservatism that had come then, that he had had a great time with Corinne in the early afternoon. Mustn’t go too far with that sort of thing, of course. But she was sure a peach. And she didn’t seem the sort that would be forever trying to pin you down. He took her hand now. It was great to feel her there, close beside him. Corinne walked more rapidly. He didn’t know that she was biting her lip. Nor did he perceive what she saw clearly, bitterly, that she had unwittingly served a purpose in his life which he would never understand. And she saw, too, that the little job was, for the present, at least, over and done with. She stole another sidelong glance at him. He was twisting up the ends of his mustache. And humming. Oh—tired? she said, a The next Henry Calverly story, The White Star, will appear in January Cosmopolitan. | * = | > | | | As | down ina minute. Sizes range up to 434 x9 ft. (standard). ee
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HE kingdom of Italy has adopted the Waltham as the official watch for all Italian railroads. By comparative tests she proved the Vanguard to be the most accurate watch in the world. Italy matched Waltham against the best watches manufactured in London, Geneva and Paris, then selected Vanguard for her railroads. Dependability —that is the reason for Italy's choice. That is why the world’s greatest railroads use more Waltham watches than all other makes combined. Especially is this true in the United States and Canada. Italy’s splendid tribute to Waltham su- premacy is the tribute you will pay, once you have played and worked to the tick of Waltham accuracy. The Vanguard The World’s Finest Railroad Watch Ask your jewelerto poptinont: out oy advansages of the Waltham 23 and 19 jewels jeweled main wheel Waltham so easy to win and set; the diamond end-stones and the Breguet hairspring which make it for the h to catch in the regulator; the recoiling click. which prevents injury to the time- keeping qualities if the watchs wound too tight; an the exclusive winding indicator on the dial which ft tells at a glance whether or not your Waltham needs winding: WALTHAM WATCH COMPANY WALTHAM, MASS. CANADA: 189 St. James Street, Montreal Manufacturers of the Waltham Speedometer and Automobile Clocks Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 105 ass } $33 ie 4 th an: é “4 its ou i : ) sa
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106 ADY Mackworth quotes a L former cabinet minister as remarking that Sanatogen is “a national necessity to preserve good nerves.” For eighteen years previous to the war Sanatogen had been build- ing up its remarkable prestige among the English people. Sir Gilbert Parker, Arnold Bennett, Hall Caine—many indeed are the leaders of British thought who have long been publicly endorsing it. Today, therefore, when national good health has become a necessity, when the sick list must be kept low and the con- valescent made well in the least possible time, England knows she can place utmost reliance upon its wonderful tonic and upbuild- ing qualities in any emergency. This is why such vast quantities of Sanatogen are used by the British in the convalescent hospi tals at home, in the base hospitals, in the trenches—in fact, wherever the burdens and horrors Good druggisis everywhere sell Sanatogen "Why England Uses Sanatoge so Extensively of war make it necessary to preserve and restore steady nerves and build up weakened bodies. Sanatogen Long Made in America In this country, too, Sanatogen has the highest standing. It is endorsed not only by many prominent men— such as Colonel Henry Watterson and John Burroughs—but by thousands of physicians. The Sanatogen sold here is made in an American factory by an American Company. Civilian and soldier alike find bene- fit in Sanatogen. It strengthens and sustains, it promotes fitness and re- cuperates after fatigue. The delicate child, the anemic young girl, the nursing mother, the run-down business man—all find help in Sanatogen. A trial will convince you—do you not Owe it to your health to give San- atogen this trial today? * * * Send for “The Art of Living,” a charming booklet by Richard Le- Galliene, touching on Sanatogen’s kindly help and giving other aids in the quest of contentment and better health, sent free on request. Address The Bauer Chemical Co., Inc., 30E Irving Flace, New York City. —no increase in prices—in 3 sizes, $1, $1.90, and $3.60 Send for my Book STRONG ARMS and MILITARY SHOULDERS for 25c coin or stam ema with 20 full-page half-tone cuts, showing exercises that will quickly develop, beautify and gain great strength in your shoulders, arms and hands, without any apparatus. Equal to a $20 Course. ROF. ANTHONY BARKER 127 W. 42nd Street, Studio 93, New York EYE WATER ~oo and is an ideal eye was tg 79 since 1795. Keep your eyes well and they will help keep you. 25c At All Drucgists or 3 by Mail ya! Receipt of Price Write for our klet. It is FREE JOHN L. THOMPSON SON ee 144 River St. Troy, N, & 60 SHORTHAND IN 30 DAYS Boyd Syllabic System—written with only nine characters. No“ “positions” —no* ‘ruled, lines’’—no “‘shading”—no “‘word- signs” —no “‘cold notes." Speedy, practical system that can be learned in 30 days of home study, utilizing spare time. For tull descriptive matter, , address Chicage Correspondence Schools, 939 Unity Building, Chicago, Wl. investments For 34 Years Ovr First Farm ages and Real Estate Gold oe on 34 years ex- perience without the loss ofa vaio We'reRightOn TheG at all times and under all conditions, Bonds in #100, $200, $500 and $1000 denominations; Mortgages $500 and up. for pamphlet «*B’’ and current offerings. E. J. DER 4 CO. (A558) Grand Forks Capital and wy $500,000 North Dakota Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 Some Axioms of War-Work (Continued from page 69) have more trouble in devoting your after- noons to war-work than if: you had been spending them, for example, in the pursuit of knowledge. It is child’s play to abandon the pursuit of knowledge; no moral stam- ina is required. But to give up the exciting sociabilities of afternoon teas is a tremen- dous feat. So much so that, if you are a votary of this indigestive practise, you will infallibly endeavor to persuade your- self at first: “I can manage the two— war-work and afternoon teas as well. I can fit them in.” You cannot fit them in—at any rate successfully. The essence of war-work is that it may not be fitted in. If it does not mean sacrifice, it means naught. Axiom: If a teacup is full, you cannot pour anything into it until you have poured something out. IV THE next, and the next to the last, il- lusion to go is a masterpiece of simple- mindedness, and yet nearly all who take up war-work are found at first to be under its sway. It is the illusion that war-work, being a fine and noble thing, ought to change people’s natures and dispositions in such a manner as to produce the maxi- mum of cooperating effort with the mini- mum of friction. Now, the very heart of all war-work is the grand and awe-inspiring institution of the committee. If you are engaged on war-work, you are bound to sit on a com- mittee or, in default of a committee, a sub-committee (which usually has more real power than the bumptious and un- wieldy body that overlords it). And if, you are on neither a committee nor a sub- committee, then you are bound, sooner or later, to be called up before a committee or a sub-committee and to be in a position to give the committee or sub-committee a piece of your mind. Thus, your legitimate ambition will somehow be satisfied. ‘ But let us suppose that you are at once elected to a committee. Well, among the members of the committee are three per- sons you know: Miss X, Mr. Y, and Mrs. Z. Miss X used to be a mannish and reckless and cheeky young maid. Mr. Y used to be an interfering and narrow- minded old maid. Mrs. Z used to be nothing in particular. You enter the committee-room, and you see these three, together with a few others who have a not very promising air. (Probably no sight is more depressing than the cordon of faces round a committee-room table.) You, however, are not downcast. You feel in yourself the uplifting power of a great ideal. You are determined to make the best of yourself and of everybody. And you are convinced that everybody is determined to do the same. But in less than five minutes, Miss X, despite her obvious lack of experience, is offering the most absurd proposals; she has put her elbows on the table, and she is calmly teaching all her grandmothers to suck 7 — \ | | | Vex J
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Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 eggs. Mr. Y is objecting to the ruling of the chairman, and obstinately arguing against a resolution that has been carried, and indeed implying that the committee ought not to do anything at all. As for Mrs. Z, she has scarcely opened her mouth; when the chairman asked her for her opinion, she blushed and _ said she “rather agreed,’’ and she voted both for and against the first resolution. “Ts it conceivable,” you exclaim, in your soul, “is it conceivable that these individuals can behave so in such a supreme crisis of the nation’s history, at a moment when the nation_has need of every citizen’s loyal good-will, of every—” etc., etc? ‘No! They cannot have realized that we are at war.’ And sundry other members of the com- mittee are not much better than the ignoble three. Indeed, your faith in com- mittees is practically destroyed. You say to yourself, with your blunt, vigorous common sense, ‘If only the committee would adjourn and leave the whole matter to me, I am sure I could manage it much better than they are doing.” You con- sider that a committee is a device for wasting time and for flattering the con- ceit of opinionated fools. Then Mr. Y becomes absolutely impossible. You feel that you are prepared to stand a lot, but that there is a limit, and that Mr. Y |- has gone beyond it. You are ready to work, and to work hard, but you cannot be expected to work with people who are impossible. You decide to send in your resignation to the chairman at once. I hope you will not send it in. For, at least, half the committee is thinking just as you are thinking. And one or two of them are thinking these things, not apropos of Miss X, Mr. ,Y, or Mrs. Z, but apropos of you! And if you are startled at the spectacle of people persisting in being just themselves in war-work, then the fault is yours and you should be gently ashamed. You ought to have known that people are never more themselves than in a great crisis, especially when the crisis is prolonged. You ought to be thankful that the committee has unscaled your eyes to so fundamental a truth. You have realized that we are at war; you ought also to realize that it takes all sorts to make a world, even a world at war. You ought to imagine what would happen if every member of the committee, like you, resigned because Mr. Y was im- possible, and thus left the impossible Mr. Y in possession of the table and the secretary. Axiom: The most valorous and morally valuable war-work is the work of working with impossible people. And may I warn you that you will later on, if you succeed as a war-worker, encounter more terrible phenomena than Mr. Y, who, at the worst, can always be outvoted? You will encounter, for example the famous and fashionable: lady who, justifiably relying on human _nature’s profound and incurable snobbishness, will give all the hard work to you and those like you, while appropriating all the glory and advertisement for herself. And, more terrible even than the famous and fashion- able lady, you will run up against the Official Mind. The Official Mind is the worst of all obstacles to getting things You can bay’em Everywhere Traveling Salesmen are great users of S. B. Cough Drops. Ex- posed to all weather in many climates, they have learned that Smith Brothers’ will keep their voices clear and ward off coughs and colds. SMITH JN every nook and corner of the country, in big cities and small villages. Not only at drug stores but general stores, grocery stores, candy shops, cigar stores, hotel and railroad news-stands. 700,000,000 sold last year. Damp, cold, raw December weather. Snow in theair. Sudden winter rains. Keep your throat clear and defend yourself against colds with Smith Brothers’ S. B. Cough Drops. S. B. Cough Drops are pure. No drugs. No narcotics. Pure’ingredi- ents with just enough charcoal to sweeten the stomach. Put one in your mouth at bedtime; it keeps the breathing passages clear. S’ ROTHE S.B. COUGH DROPS SMITH BROTHERS of Poughkeepsie Also makers of S. B. Chewing Gum 107 | TH BROTHERS | A | G/ | / inter is Here~ | BE READY! | |
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108 CThe scars left by hot dishes and moisture stains that mar the table top are things unknown — to thousands of housewives. They use gable ‘mats and pads of Resistant to heat. water, wear and weather Jouns ANVILLA, SERVICE / COVERS THE CONTINE The theatre cur- tain, the moving- picture booth, the brake lin- ing on your motor car—all de- pend on J-M Asbestos. The history of Johns-Manville is read in the growth of Asbes- tos as a world-wide utility. Practically un- known for ages, this mineral is today, through Johns-Manville, available in every conceivable form. On factory piping it conserves heat—on electric wires in your home it spells safety. H. W. JOHNS-MANVILLE COMPANY New York City 10 Factories—Branches in 54 Large Cities Asbestos Fabrics, Packings, Roofings, Shi b les, Brake Linings, Building Ma- terials, Electrical Devices, Heat Insulations, efractory Cements, ‘Waterproofing. The Home Industry Power Plants’ Transportation, Roofings The Motor Car. The Farm When you think of Asbestos you th Johns-Manville* The secret of busi- ness and social suc- cess is the ability to remember. I can | to produce onall @# varnished wood ™ surfaces, a hard, | dry, brilliant Lustre ThatLasts | 25c to $3.00 Channel! Chemical Co. Dickson School of Memory, 1751 Hearst Bldg., Chicago, Ill. Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 done. And the gravest danger of the war-worker, particularly if he attains high rank on committees, is the danger of becoming official-minded himself. V WHEN you have proved that in war. work you are a decent human being—and you will prove this by sticking to the work long after you are weary of it and by . refusing to fly off to something else be- cause it promises to be more diverting and less annoying than your present job, then you will part company with the war- worker’s last illusion—namely, the il- lusion that her efforts will meet with gratitude. Gratitude is going to be an extremely rare commodity, and it is not a vey good thing to receive, anyhow. You see, there will be so few people with leisure to devote to gratitude. Everybody is or will be war-working. Even soldiers and sailors are doing something for the war, though to listen to some civilians, one would suppose the military side of war to be relatively quite unimportant. No; gratitude will not choke the market. On the contrary, criticism will be rife, for we are all experts in war-work. The highest hope of the average war-worker must be to escape censure. Official food- controllers, who are possibly the supreme type of war-worker, are thankful if they | escape with their heads. And herein is a great lesson. Axiom: The reward of war-work will be in the treaty of peace. The next Arnold Bennett article, A Dangerous Lecture toa Young Woman, will appear in January Cosmopolitan. The Other Lobster (Continued from page 42) really you do! On the way back to the hotel, he began to complain of—” Wind- ham didn’t quite catch the word. She re- peated it, in a very small voice, “‘Gripes,” and hurried on. ‘‘By the time we reached the hotel, he was in agony. On the way up-stairs he became suddenly unconscious, and so remained until the end.” On Windham’s face were written relief and joy. “Of all the merciful dispensations of Providence!” he cried. “The excitement,” she explained, “the wedding breakfast, the journey in the train, the spin afterward, all the good things to eat and the champagne had finished the poor old boy. He died of acute indigestion.” “Oh, I am so’glad!” said Windham. “I don’t mean I’m particular about its having been acute indigestion—what makes me glad is that he died when he did. When you make up your mind to a thing, don’t put it off. That’s what I say.” “Aren’t you a little heartless?” But she smiled indulgently. “Tf I didn’t feel the way I do, I’d be heartless.” “He left me everything,” said Mrs. Jordan, “but only on the condition that I should never marry again.” In silence, Windham considered this | JOHNS-MANVILLE ~ J | | ink of M Use the Genuine Stopfors ting—) the Basis Key of All o success ar “nowledge Bolu Sh make your mind an _ infallible e i B i classified index from which you can instantly select thoughts. facts, Prof Write Today bust," to rincipa
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Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 cataclysmic announcement. Then he said slowly, . “What are you worth?” “Five or six millions.” “Which you forfeit if you marry me?” don’t mind,” she said, with wonderful sweetness. The young man caught her hand across the cloth and pressed it ardently. “What a brick ygu are!’ he exclaimed. “That’s all right,’ she murmured. “What’s all right?” “We are—the moon—everything.” “Oh, my dear, my dear,” he said sol- emnly; “things are far from right! J] couldn’t; you see, I just couldn’t——”’ “Eric,” she cried, ‘don’t frighten me!”’ “Tt’s one thing,” he explained, ‘‘to marry a girl who has no money. very different to marry a girl who will have no money because of your marrying her.” ° “But you have enough for two! “Tf you had nothing, yes—my beggarly ten thousand would be something. But you’ve had everything—everything that is easy and luxurious and beautiful. With me, all you’d have would be the prospects of me making good some time or other.”’ “And love, Eric; don’t forget that.” “T’d love you. But you’d be too pinched and uncomfortable to keep on loving me. You'd have one very best dress, and some day somebody would spill soup on it, and then you’d hate me.” “Listen to me! I love you. I think I'll always love you. With all my heart I want to be your wife. I have had ease and luxury; but I haven’t been happy. I’d never known what it was to be really happy until you kissed me. But”—here a steely note crept into her voice—“‘if your income isn’t enough for two, if you aren’t willing to share it with me “ “Don’t vou dare to talk to me like that!” he cried. “What do you think I am? When I have made ‘a fortune, come back.” “Eric!” “There is no other way out. I know how generous you are, how wonderful and how beautiful. But all human experience goes to prove that some day, sooner or later, if we stayed poor—and we might, God knows we might!—some day, vou would begin to regret your forfeited mil- lions, and, when you had begun to regret, the iron of it would eat into your soul and into mine.” “T wish I were dead,” she said simply. “Don’t say that! It’s not a tragedy yet. It’s not going to be a tragedy if I can help it. I’m going to take the old world by the—throat and shake him until money flows out of his nose and ears. Our marriage is only postponed. Let’s believe that with all our mights. This ’89 cham- pagne—a vintage almost as extinct as the great dodo—this bottle and I first saw the light in the same year. I only drink when I am unhappy. Dolly?” “Just a drop—you’ve filled my glass!” “Be a sport! There’s more than one heart breaking round this gay. and festive board. Ill tell you what we’ll do, Dolly: Just for old sake’s sake, and because it’s "89, and because we only do such things when we are unhappy, we'll finish this bottle and eat that other lobster!” “We'll be sorry in the morning.” “We may be sorry before morning.” “Oh, Eric, don’t you think that maybe to-morrow, after you’ve had a chance to It is | It’s Hot in the train, in the ofhce, home, hotel, church, theatre! Feel wet, sticky. Cold when you go outdoors—and catch cold easily! You can avoid this. You can be perfectly comfortable in warm rooms and yet shoroughly protected against the cold outside, if you wear Cotton next to Skin. : COMFORT Warm Wool Outside : NO ITCH Air Space between : PREVENTS COLDS Their Underwear! It’s that thin inner layer of soft cotton that feels so good to the skin. It’s the thin outer layer of fine wool that keeps you warm. And the wool layer absorbs bodily moisture from the cotton layer, evaporates it and keeps the garment soft and fresh and your body dry. The air space between provides healthful ventilation. Test these claims by wearing Duofold yourself it’s worth the trial. If your dealer hasn't it, write us. Sample of the Fabric and Literature sent on request. Duofold Health Underwear Co. Mohawk, N. Y. | | 109 i — > | | | 7 | | | | | | | | | | | | | | ON) | |
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How I'd like to be rid of this Fat!’ Do you realize that you can weigh just exactly what you should by following my easy, scientific di- rections in the privacy of your room? And you will be stronger and look younger as you change your figure. The medical magazines advertise my work. Physi- cians’ wives and daughters are my pupils. x No Drugs—No Medicine I have devoted fifteen years to this work. Over 80,000 refined, intelligent women havc not only regained health, vitality and per- fect figures and carriage, but they have learned how to keep both. Scores of my pupils have been relieved of all sorts of chronic ailments that probably now afflict you. Drop me a line and I wil! explain, without expense, the method by which you can improve your figure; build up your vitality: st-engthen your nerves; secure perfect self-control; and flood your entire life with the joy of perfect health. If you tell me your problems I'll write to you frankly what you can expect. My services are personal to you. Your case will be individ- ‘ally handled. I am at my desk from 8 to 5 daily, studying my pupils’ cases. May I help you? Send for illu: trated Bool let showing you how to stand cor- Excess Flesh j part of bod rectly; or, better still, write me a letter describing your partic- Thin Bust, Chest, Neck or Arms ular case—I will respect your confidence. Round Shoulders boorrect Standing Ipoorrect Walking Susanna Cocroft Dept. 42 624 S. Michigan Blvd., Ch cago oe oll Lack of Reserve Nervousness Irritability Constipation Indigestion Dizziness Weakness Rbeumatism Colds Torp'd Liver jalassimilation Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 think things over, you'll feel differently about the money and all?” “On the contrary. To-morrow you will see the thing as I see it.” do no such thing!” There was a silence, not a cheerful one. Then Windham sighed and said, . “Well, let’s share that other lobster and call it a day.” A little later, they were wishing each other good-night. And the pleasant dreams which they also wished each other might have been pleasanter if it hadn’t been for—the other lobster. The conclusion of The Other Lobster will appear in January Cosmopolitan. Myself and Others (Coniinued from page 89) looked sunburned and manly, and a short, pointed fair beard vastly improved his ap- pearance. Impulsively seizing both my hands, he exclaimed, in his rather high voice —in which I detected a pathetic note— “Vous voila a Vienne, chéere madame; vous voila a@ Vienne enfin!” (Here you are in Vienna at last, madame.) He certainly seemed genuinely pleased to see me, and I felt touched by his warm welcome, in view of the several years which had elapsed since, as a boy, the prince had visited England. Moreover, I confess to feeling a little flat- tered when he proceeded to plan entertain- ments for myself and my companions dur- ing our few days’ stay. Sacher’s famous restaurant in the Prater is known to every- one, but there is, in addition to the café, a semiprivate villa in the grounds, to which Prince Rudolph was in the habit of invit- ing his intimate friends to informal dinners and delightfully gay suppers. ‘‘ Rudy” was an excellent host, even commanding” special performances of vaudeville artists and Viennese orchestras to help enliven these pleasant evenings. Although the crown prince’s palace was dismantled for the summer, he was anxious that I should see it. Wandering, at his in- vitation, through the apartments shrouded in brown holland, I perceived that the clocks and candelabra on the mantelpieces and other ornaments in the various rooms were encased in glass domes, relics of an artistically hideous period. Perhaps, how- ever, I should have passed on in silence had I anticipated the consequence of calling his attention to those atrocities. For he instantly replied by smashing them all to atoms with his cane. He was odd, excita- ble, strange as ever, but there was an added note of sadness that made him gentler and more human and attractive than he had promised to be as a youth. And now let me digress a moment to re- late a little personal anecdote which leads to another concerning his mother, the Em- press of Austria. It was then the fashion to change the color of the hair to such an extent that it was quite usual to expect any variation of tint, and mine—naturally chestnut—had gradually become almost canary. The change was not generally ad- mired, and, as I was tired of it myself, Prince Rudolph suggested that the em- press’s coiffeur should employ his skill to find a remedy; so the court hair-dresser bustled to my hotel in the Ringstrasse 110 4 \ —— Wikat would YOU bid? — | ‘ |
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Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 with a bagful of bottles and brushes, and spent several hours—hours which I pa- tiently endured—dying my peroxided hair | raven black. How becoming it was, I thought, as I looked at myself in the glass (I had always yearned for black hair), and as it met with enthusiastic approval on the part of the artist who had achieved the innovation, I felt I had scored yet another success. But alas!—after several washings it became yel- low again, with the added glory of heliotrope —literally heliotrope—zebra-like streaks! The Viennese dye had only worked par- tially. I was in despair, and, when I arrived in Paris a week later, I consulted Dondel and Petit, the greatest coiffeurs and hair-specialists of the day in that city, but though both were greatly impressed with the novel effect, they declined to take any responsibility, suggesting a wig as the only solution. To my sensitive mind, it see ned that everyone in the street turned and looked after my variegated locks. More- over, I had, that autumn, to face the Argus- eyed American interviewer, but as my transformed head passed unnoticed by him, I suppose feminine ingenuity had con- cealed it somehow, though I bought my experience of dyes somewhat dearly. During the all-day séance to which I have referred, the empress’s coiffeur kept me interested by gossiping about his client, one story I retain being to the effect that her majesty was so careful of her abundant hair that, whenever it was brushed, she had a white cloth laid on the floor, and if one hair was subsequently found on it, she was upset for the day. The Empress Elizabeth—beautiful always —was at her best on horseback, and she spent most winters fox-hunting either in Leicestershire or Ireland, piloted by that good rider, Bay Middleton. She received so much attention and was so run after and mobbed when she took her walks abroad, that she laughingly remarked to one of her suite that no poor fox was ever hunted half so energetically as she was. Still, I think she liked and appreciated all the adulation she received. Her majesty was a great walker, and thus preserved her perfect figure. Arriving in London one autumn, with a new lady-in- waiting (the Countess S—), the two ladies set out at eight A. mM. to walk twice round Hyde Park (about eight miles) and finished their tramp by ascending the dome of St. Paul’s Cathedral—all before breakfast! The poor countess hobbling along, wear- ing Viennese high-heeled shoes! ‘‘ Ach!” she wailed to a cousin at the Austrian embassy, after that excruciating exper- ience. ‘Where can I buy seven-league boots? My empress will kill me!’ Even with the heir to the throne as an agreeable cicerone, my first’ impression of Vienna was one of disappointment. Though the Ringstrasse justly ranks with the fine thoroughfares of the world, the greater part of the city consisted of narrow and hilly streets in which insignificant shops and proud palaces stood cheek by jowl. The beautiful Prater, with its lovely woods to wander in by day, and its endless cafés and cabarets which provide good music by night, remains crowned in my memory as the glory of the imperial city. The next instalment of Myself and Others will appear in January Cosmopolitan. Don’t Postpone Your Trip to the Dentist It’s bad business to postpone a visit to the dentist. It’s just as bad — may be worse — to put off the day when you will begin to take proper care of your teeth morning and night. Procrastination is the thief of teeth. The . twice-daily use of Pebeco Tooth Paste is the right, sensible, and proper way to keep sound teeth in good con- dition and to protect soft teeth from the constant weakening caused by ‘“Acid-Mouth.” PEBECO TOOTH PASTE The way to try Pebeco some day is to buy a tube today. Waiting until tomorrow simply gives “Acid-Mouth” another twenty-four hours to work. Waiting until next week gives a baby flaw a fine chance to develop into a full-fledged cavity. If you wait a week there is no telling when you will begin. ‘But that “Acid-Mouth” will be working away all that time is- certain. Pebeco Tooth Paste counteracts ‘“Acid-Mouth.” You can buy Pebeco right in your own town at your own drug store. You will-enjoy its use. The Pebeco tube is extra-large size. A Free Sample will be mailed today if you write for it. We will glad to send you the sample, but.buying Pebeco to- day and beginning to treat your teeth with it is a more prompt, more decisive way to check “Acid-Mouth.” OUR SIGN IS OUR BOND: 112 William Street LEHN & FINK New York | ill | . | | | \ | Dr JoNEs 4 DENTIST
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Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 On the Heights (Continued from page 23) fe look / gloved hand, her supple limbs crossed and one white-spatted ankle dangling. anew pe VSON “Tt’s more “g I never saw a fellow with a finer cut to his forehead than Art has.” “He’s handsome enough for the movies.” “And so unconceited! It’s a pleasure to go out with a boy like Art Miller, never hear him brag about himself like most fellows—always trying to run _ himself down.” “T tell you it’s wonderful how that Hol- lenbeck raises his boys.” “Mamma, I wish you wouldn’t keep harping on that! How do you know he’s a Hollenbeck? Just because an old talking- machine like Mrs. Saltus starts a rumor, does that make it true? Art’s never let cn to me so much as a word.” “Tf Mrs. Saltus had never opened ker mouth, I could have told it for myself. Look how he dresses! Hotel clerks don’t dress like that. Like I said to Mr. Shel- burne last night——” ‘All hotel clerks are swell dressers. Look how that poor red-headed one that got caught in the elevator used to dress! He put it all over Art.” “Did you see how flustered he got when I asked him if he’d ever been to Cali- fornia?” “He didn’t, mamma. Any fellow would get rattled, though, the way you ask ques- YS has cle are d yo U r ski n tions. Iwish,mamma, you’d stop pumping Art. It embarrasses me something terrible.: f If you are having trouble with vour Resinol Soap is equally Pil on get so I’m ashamed to go with effective in maintaining the him. F complexion, if you find that an unat- pealth and beauty of the “He’s a fine fellow. This kind of experi- : tractive skin is your handicap, what _ hair. ence will do more for him than a college wouldn’t you give to have your friends try it a week, and you vee Ly aE tell you what this gir 1 was told? sa aoe ond ha #9 got a college education? He never told Resinol Soap brings out the real beautv of the complexion. The healing Resinol Soap contains “‘T read in the paper how his father don’t “i < ‘ : ee absolutely no free alkali or believe in it and makes ’em be everything Resinol medication in it reduces the artificial coloring, so may in all his hotels from bookkeeper to general tendency to oiliness, soothes irritated be used without hesitancy of them all.” 7 = T on the most delicate skin. “There you go again! Honest, it just pores, and gives Nature the chance she Sold by druggists and toilet cuiammenis el l= terrible.” , needs to make red, rough skins white counters throughout the and soft. United States and Canada. child to run around with nothing but a hotel clerk, just because he’s a pretty blond, if that’ll make you feel any better.” “What difference does it make, if he’s Cultivate Your a the fine fellow you keep saying he is?” “Why, none a-tall; I’m sure it would be my greatest happiness that my daughter should marry a twenty-dollar-a-week hotel U7 can have a youthful appearance, clear 2) + ” an ashes, grac nec: chin; luxurian 4 hair; attractive hands, comfortable feet. pasmodic oup, Thirty. You can remove wrinkles, lines, pimples, black- “ ” heads; strengthen sagging facial muscles—havecom- Throat, J ust as bad. fortable feet, all thru following the simple directions SN Coughs, Bronchitis, “But I thought you said last night that of Susanna Co- eoft's Physical Established 1879 Colds, Catarrh. Art would be a fine fellow, no matter ture for Face, ” Neck, Scalp and Don't fail to use Cresolene for the distressing, and often what he Feet. fatal affections for which it is recommended. cy did but——_ ” Thousands have It is a simple, safe, effective and drugless treatment. es ? 9 . Vaporized the paroxysms of Whooping Cough Sh-h-h-h! He’s looking over at us, 4 and relieves Spasmodic Croup at once. ; una ai alae _ In asthma it shortens the attack and ensures comfortable repose. mamma, he knows were talking about engin aoe = The air carrying the antiseptic vapor inspired with every him ” breath, makes breathing easy, soothes the sore throat and stops id Send postal for the cough, assuring restful nights. Across the stretch of lobby, a smile sped Cresole: lieves the bronchial complications of Scarlet ° * over abt Maniies and is a valuable aid in the treatment of between Miss Loth and Mr. Miller, stand- latest free Book- let containing hints MTS a eae best recommendation is its 38 years of successful ing there with his back to the letter-and the wonderful use. Send uc postal for Descriptive Booklet. key rack. Through the mere stretching of plished by the Try Cresclene fer throst, composed otf |eye-rims and a flash of teeth had been tele- Grace Mildred CultureCourse ||| praphed to Miss Loth a message without Dept. 7, 624 S. Michigan Ave., Chicago, Ill. THE VAPO-CRESOLENE CO., 62 Cortlandt St., New York words that sent a lovely flood of color up : (A Division of Susanna Cocroft's Phys.Culture Course) or Leeming-Miles Building, Montreal, Canada under her face-veil. ‘
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Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 She pursed her lips, waggling a finger at’ him in a sort ef ecstasy or remonstrance. | “Bad boy!” she mouthed to him. “Bad boy! Hurry! He made a great feint of trying to under- stand, pantomimed toward the clock, and then finally disappeared behind the letter- rack. | “1 thought he was only off on W ednes-| day mornings.” & hristmas week shopping.” “Where'll he take you for lunch?” “We go to a little place down on Sixth Avenue near Fortieth—all white—it’s) darling!” ‘Darling. she calls the White| Kitchen. Don't it go to show a rich man| és can get away with anything! I'd like to| see any other fellow dare to take you to the Mr. Miller approached then, gray- gloved, hat in hand, glossy head bared to them. ‘Good-morning,” he said, bowing to an angle before each. “And how are the ladies—God bless ’em!—this morning? How’s the cold, Mrs. Loth?”’ “Better. Fancy your remembering, Mr. Miller, that I had a cold!” “T remember every little thing about a lady as well worth remembering as you, Mrs. Loth.” She struck out at him with her muff. “Jollier! No wonder you got all the girls daffy about you. I think I'll have to; chain my little girl up in her room if you: HERE is a new dessert among the don’t stop turning her head with that mil-, 57 Varietie—Heinz Fig Pudding. It Hon-dollar smile of yours. isatreat. Figs, of course, with spices “Mamma!” d flavoring ked to bri t a taste He turned to Miss Loth as she sat there, 4 "@vorings, coo tna anges her eyes trying not to diffuse too much of that will make your mouth water. We can- their ‘perturbation. not tell you how good i itis. You must try “And how’s the Little Major this morn- it. Heat it in the can, serve it with a sauce One of the ing?” he said, a note lower in his throat. the recipe for which is given on the can. Fine,” she said, looking up and looking Jn Fig Pudding Heinz has been particularly down again. fortunate in securing that delicious taste 4 Where } you two children going this cold \.y:¢h is the secret of success in a dessert. ay * We don’t know, but we're on our way, eh, Little Major?” “Don’t stay out too late, like you did last week.” “We won't. We’re just going to show each other the sights. The park is some- thing scrumptious these nippy days, and say, did you see the Avenue yesterday, filled with the college youngsters home for Christmas?” “Have you ever been to college, Mr. Miller?” He colored. giving a characteristic ner- vous toss of the head, as if he had a mane to shake. “No, Mrs. Loth; about as near as I ever got to college was a grade-school.” “Well, I always say to Sadie, it’s not always the college-educated ones that get of hin MINCE, MEAT jos te righ proporions produc Miss Loth rose, hurriedly fastening the’ the most appetizing combination to make— ermine-faced collar high shent dnet io. Great big raisins such as are sold only at the =~ Heinz Mince Meat. most exclusive fruit stores; black, fruity | he’s got to-day for PUDDING PuRE Co “Tf we're going, Art, hadn’t we bett get a hurry Sone or currants; rich suet such as is found on only HEINZ He stepped around immediately to her. the choicest cuts; spices that ere fairly red- : “Will you join us, Mrs. Loth?” | olent of the sun-kissed stretches of Arabia; Plum Pudding She sat back with her arms along the apples whose cheeks have been slowly red- _—_ appropriate, delicious, wholesome, and fes- chair-sides, smiling upon them in a reer dened on the breeze-swept orchards of the __ tive. A most delicious dessert for a holiday lent need of well- being. lake country, are all blended with askill that or any other day. you two children run along. Here | comes Mr. Shelburne over to keep me| All Heinz goods sold in Canada are made in Canada 7 113 | e > "hi “Ne | DDING
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LEA) ished 1906 Dept. 106-8-1 1910 Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 company awhile. You've got no time for an old woman tagging after.” ““We have, too, mamma.”’ “Run along quick now, before I change my mind.” “‘Good-by, mamma dear!” “Good-by, Mrs. Loth; I'll take good care of her.” ‘“*Good-by, children!” One half of New York does not know how the other two million lives. Fifth Street runs at right angles to but never bisects Fifth Avenue. Madison Avenue and Mott Street neither speak the same language nor use an interpreter. By what devilish paradox is it that Fifth Avenue struts in furs and First Avenue skulks in wind-sheltered doorways? Walking through Central Park, the palatial line of the Avenue showing through bare trees, the sunlight cutting as brilliantly and as without warmth as a diamond ray, her small head up to the in- halation of cold, thin air, and her coat snug up against its sting, it was to Sadie Loth as if life could have but one meaning —not the chilblains of First Avenue or the ragged fringe of the city’s poor, but only the melody in her heart at every pressure of the gray-gloved finger-tips mounting higher; higher. “T feel like I could begin to run and just never stop running, Art.” They were at the base of an ice-hung fountain that was locked, as it were, in the very attitude of play. Sparrows hopped on the stone rim of its basin. “T’d start running after you and never stop until I caught you.” “Honest?” “Honest.” She mounted the coping of the basin, sparrows scattering, and balanced by her hand in his, walked its complete circle. “When my dear father was alive, he used to do this with me every Sunday morning when he was off the road.” “You and he were great pals weren’t you?” “Oh, we were. Mamma used to say he and me were as plain in our tastes as old shoes. Mamma was always the society one in our family. Papa and me used to love to just stick around home, puttering. He kicked off an icicle from the scroll rim of an iron bench, stooping to pick it up. Ty guess maybe that’s why a girl like you, living in the same hotel where I’m only clerk, takes time to—to run around with my kind of a fellow.” “ Art!” “T know you're only kidding around with me a little—I’d be a pretty big fool if I didn’t.” “Kidding around?” “Oh, it’s all right, Little Major; I’m darn lucky at that. I’m not kicking only— only: “Only what?” “Well—well—I got to get used to the idea that I—I’m showing myself a good time in a fool’s paradise; that’s all. A fel- low like me can’t go on seeing as much of a girl as I see of you and—and not feel him- self getting in bad with himself. I guess we got to call a halt somewhere—isn’t that about the thing in a nutshell, Little Major?” j | > GARAGE HEATING SYSTEM) | | | | | | | | | PLEASE-\) | 12 | 4 per month € | : BULFOLD CHECKBOOK HOLDER Postpaid feck book holder and Memo-Diary. biimfal of faterest: Fits any Pocket For, Ladies and
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oom ~ Hundred and eighty-second Street. It’s : Be F just since—the insurance—my mother— The Wall Board she’s the one. But me—Art—didn’t I | F ; With a Back Bone | tell you we were the old shoes of the fam- | Pres) ‘ of kiln-dried wood slats. The surface is always perfectly q ily? Him and I used to love just having | |, 4 oe smooth and rigid. each other together, sitting around home | [y F P Paint it, paper it—use any decorative scheme—it won’t evenings — playing rummy — fooling = % a shrink, crack, —chip or mar from knocks of furniture. around. Nothing means anything to me, ea t keeps out cold, heat and moisture. Art, except for me to love some one the wa : be No other wall board has the wood core—no other has all I loved my father—the—th I—t “i eS a ey these qualities. Be sure you get the genuine Compo-Board. atner e way Send for sample and intcresting booklet. you little darling—y ou little The Compo-Board Co., Mian. arling!”’ Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 She hooked irito his arm. “You mean, Art— you—you’re getting tired?” He brushed off her touch. “You know I don’t mean that,” he said, with brusqueness. ““Why—I—honest, Art, I don’t know | what you're talking about, then.” An artless naiveté lifted her voice a bit too ob- viously. He looked down at her, unsmiling. “Come now, Little Major; you know as | well as I do that two people like us can’t go drifting on this way without getting in | dangerous waters.” “JT don’t know what you mean,” she per- | sisted, star-points in her eyes. He faced her on the small deserted area | of asphalt surrounding the fountain, put | out his two hands on her shoulders. Ehi . “T mean that I’m getting to like you too much, Little Major; I’m getting so I | pam portant than ever to select can’t tight to shut varnishes: or enameh. of out your little face and the way your age oe eyes set in kind of slanting, and they) for little curlicues “at the back of your neck, nishihg and—and all the cuteness of you put to- 4 Labor the chief item of expense and it costs no» gether. That’s the fix I’m finding myself | in, Little Major. Can a fellow talk plainer than that?” mote to°apply Finishes:: that wear indefinitely “Well,” she said, all tremolo, and tip- | than the kinds that wear toeing up at him, “well?” | out er go shabby the first “That’s all,”” he said. | year difference in They stood face to face, the steel- -pointed | : the price per gallon is a air not cold enough to pierce the penumbra mere trifle. of their glowing. The traffic of the curving | : : ; macadamized park-drive flowed past them | unheeded. and three shades of gray), I—w hy berry Wood Finishes and ‘Well, what? berry Wall Finishes are a few you too, Art.” of the many "Berry rbrands He broke into a rapid trot, she in run- | Ee , that insure Beatity, durabidioy and ning quicksteps beside him, then stopped | ste 4 “et _ economy. | 3 filishings “Oh, Art I—I do— like you—so!” 3 ee $34 “You mean, Little Major, you like me | 7 “> ee 3 BERRY BROTHERS, just as I am. A fellow without a cent in| Largest Varnish Makers the world except what he earns from week | : Established 1858 to week as a hotel clerk? Hotel clerk, you we Factories: Wallearcilia, understand.” “Why, yes—Art!” “Not a chance, Little Major,’ he said. “You mean it all right enough while you say it, just us two out here in the park as | if there wasn’t no red-and-gold Fredonia | and a marble Fifth Avenue to buy the | pretties of the world on; but it don’t hap- | pen once in a thousand times, little one, that a girl like you can like a fellow like me | well enough to give up all the things you been used to for the love-in-a-cottage- stuff.” “Why, I—I haven’t been used to things, Art!” ‘‘Nonsense!”’ “Before my father died, only two years 3 ago, we lived in a little five-room flat up on “Maybe you won't believe it, but in the I15 or WHITE E L. | |
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Hallet & Davis © Piano HEN you buy your piano. can you afford to pass by c the old names which uphold the high ideals of America’s first piano makers? One of the very oldest pianos ra is the Hallet & Davis—a leader over 78 years—today a better in- strument than ever. Catalog and terms on request. HALLET & Davis PIANO Co- Will be apprec lated by_everyone because of multitude of, uses Tdentity Kwikiite-vy the Tele- scopic Joint near the center—pro- tects you against substitution. 88 distinctive models sold by Hardware, Drug, Elec- - trical ¥ and » Sporting Goods Stores. Send for Booklet 39— describes the line THE USONA MFG. CO. S152 Boylston Street Boston BED | Fredonia sometimes I feel like I'll smother. I wake up nights, suffocating from plush. I do—like you so, Art! On thirty a week, I could set us up in the cutest little flat I know about. Four rooms and bath, thirty- two-fifty, up on Hundred and eighty-third near where we used to live. I—I love it up there better than down here round Sev- enty-second Street, up there on the Heights where every little woman does her own housework and wheels her own—does her | | own housework. On the Heights with you, Art, would be—just perfect!” “Why, Sadie, girl, I—I just don’t know what to say —liking me this way— just as I am.” “T do; I love it there. I—I’d rather be up there on the Heights—with you—than anywhere with anybody.” “Why, it—it’s the most beautiful, the most wonderful thing in the world, Little Major, to think you—like me that way— with nothing more to offer you than what Tam. It’s wonderful!” He looked down at her, cupping her elbow in his hand, the cloud of his breath melting with the cloud of hers. ao Ast.” “You think you do, Little Major, and God knows I love you for it; but I—why, I couldn’t buy you shoe-strings.” She would not be gainsaid. “T’ll wear ’em unlaced. On the Heights, style don’t matter.” “Your mother—even with the way she jollies me along, I’d never in a thousand years have the nerve to ask for this little bit of porcelain unless I could keep it wrapped in cotton batting.” “My mother——” “Every time she shoots one of those knock-out questions at me, I know it’s just her polite way of reminding me where I truly bluely stand. She wants a college man for her girl, a class- ical kind of guy with the means to keep her like a little queen, the way she ought to be kept.” “There’s nothing about me could keep up with a college fellow, Art. I never even went to high.” “To think,” he said, not releasing his hold of her elbow, “‘to think of a beautiful little thing like you wanting me for my- self!” “T do, Art.” “Tf only I was now where I intend to be five years from now, ’way up in the hotel business from the bottom up, on my own hook. That’s the kind of record I want to bring to my girl.” “Tt would kill me, Art, the waiting. What’s the good waiting for what we can do now?” “What do you mean, Little Major?” “Don’t make me say it, Art, the way you’ve made me say pretty nearly every- thing else.” “You mean—— “Don’t make the girl do the proposing.” “You mean——” “Now , Art—to-day—you and me!” “Why, Little Major, you’ve knocked me silly—I—how “Well, if I’ve got to say it, darling, from here to a jewelry counter in a taxi is ten minutes; from there to the Municipal Building is thirty minutes, another fifteen for a license, and then—a magistrate—an hour and a half would finish the job, dear.” ” Cosmopolitan for December, IQI7 “Why darling—yozr mother—the——” “Tt’s a beautiful day-before-Christmas, dearest!” “But I—you don’t know anything about me—who I am—where I come from— where I——”’ “There’s a lifetime for ‘that, dear. That’s plenty of time to get better ac- quainted. I only know—I like you Art—like you enough to know everything I want to know about you. Ain’t that enough?” A cab came jouncing along, flag down. He hailed it, lunging well into the roadway from the momentum of the gesture, : Taxi!”’ It drew up to a quick- thrown clutch. In the corridor of the Municipal Building, a pair stepped rather’ gingerly » out of a door that self-closed noiselessly behind them. A quiet lay in that hall: way; the tunnel-like quiet of the modérm fireproof, sound-proof, sun-proof, _office- building. “We're it—Artie dear! It’s nah It wasn’t so awful—now was it?” ; He was for gathering her to him there on the spot. “My own beautiful little fixer!” She held up her just-ringed hand. “No, no, darling; not here. There's our elevator.” Riding down, he held her unostensibly, but in the cove of his arm, out of the crowd. They could see each ‘other’s won- der-lit face in the mirror. In the cab, after the unfathomable man- ner of women, she cried a little, laughing finally through her tears at the ecstasy and perplexity of him. “Foolish darling!” she said. “I’m crying because I’m too happy to laugh.” “Dear, dear thing!” “Give me my powder-puff, honey, out of my bag.” He fumbled into the shallow silk trifle, finally spilling its content to the floor, bouncing against every side of the cab as he recovered each heterogeneous article. “Good Lord,” he said, pursuing an evasive silver coin-ball, ‘is this how you women go loaded?” “Clumsy old darling!” she said, dab- bing out the little tear paths down her cheeks. Last he recovered a bit of cardboard turned down at one corner; read it, full of his new air of proprietorship, Cass HowarpD HOLLENBECK, and written across the engraving in hurried scrawl: Now will you be good and meet that high- noon flier? Watch out for special, and explanation to- mortow.” “Hollenbeck? Do you know any of the Hollenbeck boys, dear? I used to know Cass Hollenbeck when I was clerking in the Detroit house. He lived there for three months on the q. t. inspecting——”’ “Darling,” she cried suddenly, leaning toward him, “darling, you got a cow-lick here—let me kiss it quick—now—this beautiful day of Our Lord before Christ- mas!” The clock in Metropolitan tower was striking high noon as they sped past. The next Fannie Harst story, Nightshade, will appear in January Cosmopolitan. 1160 | | | | | } Kwiklite The QUALITY San Francisco | |
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Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 On the Trail of the Cowardly Cougar (Continued from page 37) Navajo blanket skinned me. However, it is an interesting if deceptive country; although it appears to be as level as a floor, in reality it is rent by ravines, cracked by cafions, and pitted with pot-holes—alto- gether quite the place a mountain-lion would select for a residence. The complexion of our outing, by the way, began to alter immediately after our first glimpse of the cafion. Doubts began to rise in our minds as to whether we were, after all, precisely the men for this under- taking. These doubts were intensified when, as a matter of precaution, Louis looked up in the hotel encyclopedia a de- scription of the animal we had come to capture. What he found caused us to question the complete frankness of Mr. “Buffalo” Jones’ report to us, for it read in part: The cougar, or puma, is ordinarily a cow- ardly animal, but when wounded or brought to bay, it is dangerous. It is entirely silent. Etc. It seemed that we had been deceived. Mr. Jones had not dealt fairly with us, and Ambrose Means—well, he had probably never read an encyclopedia with care. The question arose, therefore, whether we should satisfy our longing for adventure by a sightseeing trip on a buckboard and return to face our respective and expectant wives, or whether we should go on across the cafion and risk the lions. When the matter was put in this light, not one man wavered. A lion at bay is not a pleasant neighbor, but, for that matter, neither is a disappointed and sarcastic wife. We knew our wives, but we didn’t know those lions; therefore we proceeded with our prepara- tions. After careful debate, it seemed to us that, by the exercise of some caution, we could probably avoid wounding our prey, no matter how sensitive he should prove; as for bringing him to bay, as for cornering him where he would have to sell his life dearly, such, we agreed was no part of our program. Lions are God’s creatures; they have a right to live. The news that they are silent was, on the whole, welcome, for we reasoned that, if worse came to the worst, they could be depended upon to say nothing and we could drop the matter at any time. We “went over the rim” from Bass’s Camp the next morning, and Mr. Bass,” himself a young man of some sixty-odd years, accompanied us for the exercise of climbing down into the cafion and out again. Mr. Bass was sent West by the doctors thirty-five years ago to die of tubercuiosis, but the Arizona climate has foiled his every effort to carry out instructions and he remains a disappointment to those few physicians who survive him. He is, acci- dentally, a geologist; incidentally, he is a poet, a minstrel who sings of the open road, the wind, and the sunshine. Provi- dentially, he is a livery-man, and it was his burro-train which carried our motion- picture camera, cigars, smoking-tobacco, cigarettes, pipes, golf-clubs, and various articles of impedimenta. Yes; we had brought golf-clubs. Louis was not satis- fied with his “long” game; it was his am- bition to execute a four hundred-yard drive, and he had figured that by teeing up on the edge of some precipitous bluff, he could realize his life’s dream. But alas! he was doomed to disappointment, for Fate inter- fered in her characteristic manner. On the night of our arrival, when we built our signal-fire to notify Uncle Jim that we were ready to “go over,” Louis had complained of the altitude. He spent a bad night, and in the morning he felt worse. His pulse was behaving erratically, and he displayed all the symptoms of mountain-sickness. Although he insisted upon making the start with us, we were forced to send him back after an hour or more. We acted wisely, as it transpired, for he was certainly in no physical condi- tion to stand the hard, high climbing which we later encountered. Gloom settled upon us at losing our friend, for not only did his absence promise to increase the per-capita risk for the rest of us, if risk there should prove to be, but in his out- fit there were several boxes of the largest, most expensive cigars we had ever beheld at close range. To be deprived of both him and them caused us honest grief. However, we made the best of an un- fortunate business, bade Louis a _heart- felt farewell in which the apprehensive quavers of our voices matched the regret- Tul tremor in his, and that night we frisked his baggage for those Havanas. colored R BROTHERS’ PASTIME Trade Mark PICTURE PUZZLES _A wonderful amusement and mental relaxa- tion. Made from superb, richly colored re- productions of famous paintings. Mounted on three-ply wood, exquisitely cut and finished. These are the finest Picture Puzzles made in the World. In 100 to 1000 pieces, $1, $2 and upwards. Write Parker Brothers, lem, Mass., for latest Illustrated List. After you have had your Fun with these uzzles, send them to the Soldiers, the Cross, or Hospitals. They do great good there. POLLYANNA “The Glad FAW Game”’ @ 2 The popular board game now played every- wherel Easily learned in a few minutes. POL- LYANNA is a perfect game for Two, Three or Four players. Partnership Games are grea! Fun! POLLYANNA is made in several editions, the most popular selling at $1.00 and $1.50. ROOK The Game of Games “Gen. Washington Co One of the ts used in PA ous ' Mr. Bass is proud of his little trail, and during the long, arduous descent thereof, he referred fondly to it more than once. He told us how an Indian had shown it to him, and although I listened courte- ously, it was my private belief that said Indian might have found better,use for his time. I pretended to echo Mr. Bass’s words of praise, but in reality my heart was black and my tongue was forked, this being a quaint Supai figure of speech meaning that I was stalling. In reality, I considered it the worst thing in the shape of a road, route, right of way, or public easement which I had ever clung to. In the first place, it was about as wide as a rut ora bicycle-track, and it showed plainly that the copper-skinned brave who laid it out wore an AA last. The worst feature about the trail, however, was that it had only one side, and that side was forever trying to shove us off. Where the other side should have been there was invariably a void, some yawning cavity with a lot of repulsive scenery at the bottom. Iam at home in oblique countries, but this was my first experience in the land of the per- pendicular, and it taught me something. For instance, I never knew that a horse is a lopsided animal, and that it can walk with its feet on a ledge while its entire body projects over an adjoining gorge. Nor did Ijknow how the ancient cliff-dwellers built their fires. It was not by rubbing sticks together, as has been claimed; it was by striking bones, one upon the other. This I discovered when, out of considera- tion for my tired mount, I got off and shinned round the edge of a cliff upon what seemed to be a poor imitation of a rain-gutter. Pausing to admire the won- drous panorama outspread below me and to change my grip from a thorn-bush to a cactus, I noticed, first, that the outline of PING-PONG. There is no better game, and thousands of dining-room tables are again “‘working over-time."" PARKER BROTH- ERS are the exclusive owners and makers. Excellent sets from $2 upwards, and cheaper sets as well. Send for descriptive list. PARKER BROTHERS™ SALEM, MASSACHUSETTS 119 FAMOUS | f. | Home PING-PONG
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GiSantabring the Starr to Sing Your Carols How it will fill to overflowing the cup of Christmas cheer when “they’”’ delight- edly behold a beautiful Starr beside the _sparkling evergreen! How enjoyable will be the lovely songs of Christmas as they well forth—so life- like, so free from metallic tones and nasal twangs—from the sweet, clear-voiced Starr “Singing Throat.” Silver Grain Spruce, aristocrat of the . Christmas Tree family, is the vibrant * music-wood from which Starr genius, born of a half-century of tone study, has evolved this rich and charming voice. Succeeding seasons will but mellow its sweet- ness—as the years have added tonal beauties to violins fashioned by Old Masters from, this self-same wood. The Starr may be had in eleven beautiful styles, $50 to $300. Each plays Starr and all other records. “The Differenceis inthe Tone—and Why,” with address of representative, on request. ce New Starr Records on sale the 15th of each month The STARR Piano Co., Richmond, Indiana Makers also of Sure, Rich- Trayser and m, Grand, and The Canadian Phono- graph Supply Co., Ltd., Distributors, WEBSTER'S a accurate, final answer. This This New Creation INTERNATIONAL DICTIONARY i of life use, profit from, and enjoy this vast fund of information. 3 REGULAR 4"° INDIA-PAPER EDITIONS, self-help to success. Hundreds __— of of people in all walks 6000 Illustrations Cosmopolitan for December, 1y17 my legs was indistinct, like a blurred photo- graph, then that my knee-caps were strik- ing sparks, like a flint and steel. But all things are comparative; no’ matter how sick we are, we can always get worse. When I recrossed the cafion, three weeks later, when I clambered down off the north rim and struck the Bass Trail up the south side, it looked like Broadway. That first night we camped among some boulders near a spring, and winged Zulus assagaied us. No tourists had passed this way in a long time, and those mosquitoes were on their last legs, but we saved them. It was hot; there was sand in the butter; there were rocks under our blankets; our cigars were broken and were becoming dried out. However, we bore these hard- ships stoically and looked forward to the time when we would romp about in the exhilarating ozone of the Kaibab Plateau, engaging the cougar in its native sports and pastimes. Bass’s Ferry consists of four spidery wires spanning the gorge of the Colorado. From these wires is suspended a rickety wooden cage, which works with a windlass. It is a sort of magnified cash-conveyer, and by means of it we set about crossing our horses and outfit early the following morning. Inasmuch as there appeared to be an unvoiced question as to whether the contraption would carry a horse, we set up the camera in the hope of getting a good picture in case it wouldn’t. This was a splendid setting for a moving- picture calamity, for the cables extend from one bleak, black wall.to another, and seventy-five feet below them the river rushes past, breaking up a short distance down-stream into a picturesque cataract. When the first horse descended to the niche which forms the cage-landing and got a peek at the river below, he shook his head, folded his arms, crossed his feet, and sat down. “Women and children first,’’ he plainly said. You may not know that a horse’s neck is of elastic construction and will stretch like the coil of lemon peel in that beverage from which his neck derives its name; but such is the case. We stretched this animal’s neck to the size of a garden- hose; we tied granny knots in his tail, and then, more in sorrow than anger, we took him in our arms, carried him into the cage, tied him securely, and barred him in with pieces of plank. This done, there followed a call for volunteers to windlass the burden across, thus ascertaining if the cables would stand the strain. It was Ambrose and Bert Lauzon who finally manned the windlass, cast off, and went flying down the wires. These wires sag considerably; hence the start of their journey was swift. Perhaps a third of the way across, the car came to a pauses whereupon the boys set about winding it slowly onward and upward by main strength and awkwardness. Miller, the operator, was frankly dis- appointed when nothing gave way. When the cage went bobbing and creaking on- ward, a foot at a time, he quit turning the camera-crank and seated himself de- jectedly, with his legs hanging over the gorge. Near him was a high pinnacle of rock, round the base of which the river foamed; sizing it up, he announced that he could get a good picture if Fred would fi i a {6 | fe ig | We {a # Sate > | : vA tw =X { | AS | / . Branch Stores, Distributors Silver Grain Spruce and Dealers almost | i yer Pianos Vall “ | | of on Pronogran’ ia in, Ontario, Canada Storr. Your Question; be it the Fronuneiation new the Sclling of a word, the — | G.&C.MER FREE POCKET MAPSLADDRESS..
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Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 ascend it and do some fancy roping at the top. Evidently it was a matter of complete indifference to him who supplied the thrills on this trip, who fell in, so long as he got it, but we dared not risk offend- ing him thus early in the game, so we boosted Fred up to the peak of the rock, where he balanced dizzily, whirling his lariat until Miller again stopped the ma- chine, saying he guessed it was no use. We lost our third horse. He went into the cage more easily than the first two, | ff and therefore less care was taken in tying | ff IFFANY & O him close. Just before the start, he began | | . to plunge and, in a sudden frenzy of terror, he managed, as a result of our carelessness, to get partially over the bars in front of him and fetch up, head down, in which position he threatened to strangle, for the ropes at his neck, although they prevented him from sliding out of the open end of the cage, also shut off his wind. , Lauzon leaped to the rescue, but the | | animal’s struggles broke the cage loose a EWELRY DISTINCTLY SUPERIOR from its moorings, and it shot out from the landing. Bert was as quick to ap-| | WATCHES CLOCKS preciate the perils of an aerial trip in a = cage with a struggling horse as were we, SILVERWARE and even as we yelled at him to jump, | | he quitted the car. Immediately below | CHINA GLASS him was a steep slope of broken rock, | |f the foot of which was swept by the rushing | ff STATIONERY river. Out over this, man, horse, and car | ff had begun their trip. Bert landed on a thin knife-edge of rock; slipped, but caught |"}f} . himself with his hands, steadied himself, | THE TIFFANY BLUE BOOK GIVES PRICES and climbed back to us. The cage had IT WILL BE SENT UPON REQUEST come to rest a short distance out, and the horse was threatening to demolish it in his dying struggles. . “He’s done for,” said Bert. “He'll | | TH choke before we can skin out there and.| ff FIFTH AVENUE &OTESTREET “Shall I cut him down?” inquired one | ff of the boys. | EW YORK Plainly that was the quickest way of | | ending the creature’s agony, so the sug- gestion was acted upon. As the first rope was cut, the horse, in a final spasm, kicked himself free of the bars, slid head first out of the tip-tilted cage, and hanged himself high in mid-air over the torrent. We were all very much relieved when he had been cut down, when the cage ‘ failed to follow him, and when the entire transaction was closed. These events had not taken long, and we had quite forgotten Miller and his machine, which he had been What is Your Spare Tim e W orth ? industriously turning. Now he called down to us: “Good work! But the censors won't Hundreds of bright, active men and women are making good pass it. I got everything except the leap incomes by giving us their spare time. We must have more just for life. If you’ll start the cage again and like them. Over a million people will read of this extraordinary let mm: make another jump, I’ll get him offer. Will you be one of that million to cash your spare time? We pn that we had with us a good ig PLAN will put money into your pockets. It can easily be operator. the means of making you independent. It offers you a business When we had sent our last horse over, of your own with unlimited possibilities. WILL YOU— had loaded our outfit, and were ready to ACT NOW while the season is at its height? We have just di step into the cary Mr. Bass’s party bade their assurances that it had indeed pleased was additional to the Salary and commissions we also pay. ‘them to know us, even thus briefly, was EARN YOUR CHRISTMAS MONEY NOW as a sstarter. depressing. Their sincerity seemed to Find out how easy it really is to become an independent person. argue that they feared the pleasure would Send for full particulars now as opportunity knocks but once not be renewed, and that they expected tine to know us henceforth only in memory— R ‘ which, in view of our immediate surround- Cosmopolitan Magazine, 119 West 40th St., N. Y. C. ings, we ourselves had begun to fear. To anyone suffering from ennui, I can recommend as a cure a trip across the . 121 | | | | | |
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122 HE Big Ben man -in the evening of life enjoys ambi- tion’s contentful reward. Big Ben to him is a life- time friend. And you, in retrospect, at three - score - and -ten, will thank Big Ben of Westclox for each cheery morning call —his faithful comradeship through life—his thrifty guarding of your hours: “Good fellow, Big Ben, he helped me live on time!’’ A Lifetime F riend LaSalle, 11.,u.s.A. Western Clock Co. Other Westclox: Baby Ben, Pocket Ben, America, Bingo and Sleep-Meter Big Ben of Westclox is re- spected by all—sentinel of time throughout the world. He’s loyal, dependable and his ring is true—ten half-minute calls or steadily for five minutes. Back of Big Ben stands a com- munity of clockmakers. Each year they. build more than four million alarms—accurate, long-lived, almost friction-free. And Big Ben is their masterpiece. Big Ben is six times factory tested. At your jeweler’s; $2.50 in the States, $3.50 in Canada. Sent prepaid on re- | )ceipt of price if your jeweler doesn’t | stock him. Makers of Westclox BEFORE SENDING “That Christmas Box”’ en in the training camp be sure and see that all Woolen and Knitted articles are marked with CASH’S WOVEN NAMES They. give a perfect means of identifica- tion and make mis- takes impossible. Sold at all leading Dry Goods, Men's Furnish- ingand Army and Navy Co-op. Stores. IZdoz.......... $2. Write for Style Sheet. J. and J. Cash, Ltd., Street Get Real Food Value Eat All the Grains Says Food Controller Hoover You Get Them in Oatmeals (Order From Your Grocer) Triumphs — Grahams Golden Maize Wafers Animals Sweet Grahams Bran Cookies DemiTasse Water Crack Johnson Educator Food Co., Boston Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 gorge of the Colorado River on a wire cable;: The view is fine, and it extends in all directions, especially up and down. I know now that I would never care for flying. As we dangled ’twixt wind and water, and the cage sprang up and down while the whole rigging gave and took with sundry alarming groans and warnings, we stared hypnotically at the river below us and vowed that already this Arizona country had made better men of us. In answer to our signal-fire, Uncle Jim had sent two cowboys to meet us and, once across the river, they helped us to repack and resaddle the horses we had brought, together with some others which Uncle Jim had sent by them. They bore us the glad tidings that the trail up was a “‘heller,” and that Shinumo Creek, along which it led for a way, was so high that, in coming down, their horses had been swept away and they had lost most of their grub. But interest did not wait until we arrived at the Shinumo. En route thereto, over a bold and frowning ridge which separated us from that brawling stream, one of our pack-horses was seized with a bilious attack of vertigo and made a scene. He it was upon whose back we had lashed our moving-picture camera, all of the cigars, cigarettes, plug and pipe-tobacco, cigarette- papers, pipe-cleaners, and the like, and he it was who occupied the place of honor in our caravan. The trail was a sick affair at best. It writhed in agony; it zigged painfully upward for a short distance, then changed its mind and zagged back again. This it repeated over and over. When the camera-horse had selected a place too steep and too narrow for us to turn round in, he let go, flung himself into -our arms, saying, “‘Take me as I am!” It is no part of a restful vacation to dig your hobnails into» solid rock, hold a hysterical horse against the side of a precipice while you unload, resurrect, and repack him. To suceessfully perform the feat one should be deaf, dumb, and blind to outside impressions, and he should possess as many legs as a spider and as many arms as an octopus. We were quite ready to camp when we finally arrived at the Shinumo. The Shinumo occupies a_high-sided cafion, through which it dashes in a spirited fashion, regardless of the- comfort of travelers. The melting snows had raised it and had turned it to a milky white- ness. We negotiated our first ford at no greater cost than a partial wetting and a total paralysis of mind and body. Neither Paul nor Miller, the operator, could swim, so precautions were taken. The loop of a lariat was placed about the neck of each, it being Ambrose’s ingenious idea that if the horses were Carried away, he could haul the riders to safety and at the same time pre- vent getting any water into their lungs. Our optimism increased when the second crossing had been effected without casualty, | but as we made ready for the third and last adventure, Pat, who was inthe lead, warned us to follow in his tracks as nearly as possible. EThe creek runs over a ledge here,” he explained. ‘‘But you’ll go through safe enough if you stay on it. Ifyou don’t stay on it, you’ll drop off below and wet yourself and all your fixtures.” “Lead your ace!” we quavered, above ‘the turmoil of rushing waters. A Westclox Alarm
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124 HE gums are the keys to health You must keep your | gums firm or your teeth will loosen. They may even drop out. You must prevent tender gum spots or bleeding gumsatall hazards, For these mean Pyorrhea. Four out of five people over forty suffer from Pyor- rhea (Riggs’ Dis- ease). This means flame and and expose the teeth to painful tooth-base decay. Don’t wait for a single tender gum spot to appear. Start using For- han’s now. It positively pre- vents Pyorrhea, if used in time and usedconsistently. It promptly re- teeth as well. Forhan’s, in fact, has qualities un- possessed by any ordinary tooth | paste; and it cleans | teeth scientifically also. It is cool, anti- tic, pleasant. quem shrinkage has already set in, start using Forhan’s and consult a den- ust immediately for special treatment. At All Druggists. FORHAN CO. 194 6th Ave., N.Y. Send for Trial Tube Free. infantile Paralysis left 8-year-old Evlyn Olson so crippled she had to crawl on her knees. Five months’ treatment at the McLain Sanitariur restored her feet and limbs to the sat- isfactory condition shown in the lower picture. Her mother has this to say: We feel it our duty to Sani Eviyn was stricken with Infantile acre: in st 1915. March 1, 1916, we carried her to you. Five months later she could walk without crutches or braces, W) cannot express our thanks. MR. ot MRS. JOHN OLSON, D. 7, Grinnell, lowa For Crippled Children The McLain Sanitarium is a thoroughly equipped pri- vate Institution devoted ex- clusively to the treatment of Club Feet, Infantile Paralysis, Spi- nal Diseases and Deformities, Hip Disease, Wry Neck, etc., especially as found in children and young adults. Our book,* ‘Deformities and Paralysis”; also “Book of Refer- i ences”, free on Request. The McLain Orth i 936 Aubert Ave., St. Louis that their gums in- | recede Pat spurred his horse in, and after a breathless period of uncertainty, he emerged upon the opposite side, giving voice to a shrill yell of triumph ‘atid en- couragement. He had carried in his hand a long lead-rope, made fast to the camera- horse. The animal had less success with its endeavor. When the water foamed about its belly, it gtumbled, lost its footing, | slipped, and staggered down-stream for a few feet, then tore the halter out of Pat’s grasp and was washed away. “There goes the machine!” cried Miller. “And a thousand feet of film!” Fred groaned. “And all our cigars!” I wailed. We were frozen with horror, but Bill ! | Vaughan seized a rope, and, with loop ' whirling above his head, went loping ' down the bank abreast of the U-horse. Now its head appeared, now its belly; again the white pack cover came into view. Bill made a cast, lost his slippery footing, and fell into the stream, whereupon, to quote that immortal lyric dealing with the fatal advehtures of Ten Little Indians, “there were two.” Ambrose had remained upon the op- posite bank. Fortunately enough, he had retained his lariat—trust your cow-man to keep his tobacco and his rope handy. By the time we had unlimbered our still cameras, he, too, was endeavoring to save the unfortunate beast. But the current foiled him; it swept his loop off time after time, until, at last, the horse turned its | head up-stream, whereupon he made a perfect catch, sat back on his haunches, , and was dragged stiff-legged over the rocks, like the anchor Of an air-ship. He took a dally around a small quaking-asp near the water’s edge, and although the tree came out by the roots, the horse came to rest under a steep bank. Just below was a nasty chute, which would have been its un- doing had it failed to end its journey at this point. “T’ve got him,” Ambrose yelled, “and he’s a dandy!” It was quite as exciting as shark-fishing —while it lasted. Thus far, the horse was little the worse for its ducking, but it had experienced quite enough of this sort of thing and refused to help itself. The lariat was slowly choking it, which made it necessary to salvage quickly the sub- merged pack—no easy task in ice-water waist-deep. Eventually, however, it was unloaded, and, with the aid of two other horses, it was dragged and rolled up the bank to safety. Our brand-new “movie” camera did not leak light, but it leaked water when we held it up. It leaked like a defective samovar, and that thousand feet of film resembled some sort of gelatinous breakfast food. But those aromatic Havanas! They presented a heartrending sight to us weak nicotine-lovers. We sat down and wept silently into our beards, casting sand upon our unhappy heads. You can wipe the moisture out of an aluminum camera; you can get along without taking pictures, if you have to, but a man must smoke, and who—who can smoke wet cigars and survive? We*were strong men—we were made of stern stuff, but there is a limit to human endurance. Ambrose’s joyous an- nouncement that ‘This is the life, boys! Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 Nothing to do but eat, sleep and ride a horse!” fell upon unheeding ears. It was a ghastly failure as an effort to cheer. We got safely across the Shinumo— we must have done so, for f am here—but the memory of how it was accomplished is lost in the black shadows of forgetful- ness. We were dumb, suffering, spiritless creatures. Doubtless those unfeeling cow- boys tied their ropes in our collars and towed us across, hand over hand, as they towed Red, the visiting hound-dog whom they were taking along as an addition to Uncle Jim’s pack. I don’t know. After leaving the Shinumo, the scenery becomes more arresting, and so does the trail. Whoever is responsible for either or both tried to show off, and succeeded. In one place, as we dug our heels into a ledge and supported the weight of an overhanging cliff upon our shoulders, Fred exclaimed mournfully: “*Gee, I’m sorry the camera is wet! This would make a great picture.” Paul’s eyes were closed, but he was not sleeping. “Tt would, indeed,” he declared with feeling, “and I’d like to be in a plush orchestra-seat, looking at it.” Paul has a simple, clear way of putting things: Had I dared to let go of anything, I would have gripped his hand. While the Grand Caiion, as I have stated, is mostly perpendicular, there are certain slopes, reputed to be the result of erosion. Such is not the reason of their being— they are the result of pressure from visit- ing tourists, who, in terror, have shoved them out of plumb. It began to rain early in the afternoon, and inasmuch as our grass-fed horses were weak, this being the third day they had been practically without food, we failed to “top out” that night. When darkness came, we spread our fly in a thorny thicket and Pat molded a set of death-balls, which he case-hardened in the Dutch oven. We had no baking-powder—the Shinumo had seen to that—but minor discomforts were forgotten in the cheer- ful thought that each of us was all here. Having escaped destruction thus far, we began to feel hopeful that we could avoid coming to close quarters with the cowardly cougar. In fact, we began to dare to hope that we would not even see one. Hunger and apprehension somewhat re- lieved, we crept into our wet blankets, only to hear our guides engaged in a heated argument regarding hydrophobia skunks. “Pshaw! There’s not a bit of danger in a place like this,” Ambrose was saying. “Um—m! Prob’ly not; but it’s just the kind of a night for ’em,” Pat declared. ““Remember that one that got in bed with me on the last trip?” Bill Vaughan seemed to recall the in- cident clearly, for he said: “T sure thought you was a dead ox that time, Pat. By the way, that feller at Fredonia that was bit in his sleep, hydro- phobiated last week. He was foamin’ like a sody-fountain when I left. I’d rather have a rattler in my blankets.” “T’m used to ’em,” Ambrose yawned, “and, anyhow, they don’t touch me.” Undoubtedly this Arizona lion-roping . was great sport. We knew we were going to enjoy it—if we lived. The next instalment of On the Trail of the Cowardly Cougar will appear in January Cosmopolitan. |__| our pums relaxin | 4 Za > j f seves tender gums, j and means
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Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 specialist, says: ‘‘Some persons are so obtuse to the beauty of the delicate edges of skin at the base of the nail that they actually trim it away, leaving an ugly red rim like the edge of an inflamed eyelid."’ Over and over specialists repeat the advice—‘‘Do not cut the cuticle; it is dangerous."" ‘‘Under no circum- stances should scissors or knife touch the cuticle!’’ Start today to have the shapely, well-kept nails. that make any hand lovely. See how smooth and firm the use of Cutex will make your cuticle without trimming or cutting it. See specialise, says: the famous skin Exquisite Nails without cutting the cuticle Cutting ruins the cuticle—gives you rough, ragged edges and makes hangnails nand and passed quickly over the nails gives just the soft, waterproof finish you want. You not know your nails after. their first Cutex Manicure Until you have used Cutex, you cannot know what a great improve- ment even the first application makes in your nails, You have no idea how attractive they can be. Buy Cutex in all drug or department stores Cutex, the cuticle remover, comes in 50c and $1.00 bottles with an in- troductory size at 25c. Cutex Nail White is 25c. Cutex Nail Polish in how easily and quickly you can give | ie ay cake, paste, powder, liquid or stick your nails a wonderful manicure. form is also 25c. Cutex Cuticle Com- In the Cutex package you will find ™éthod. fort for sore or tender cuticle is only orange stick and absorbent cotton. Wrap a little cotton around the end of the orange stick and dip it into the .bottle. Work the stick around the base of the nail, gently pushing back the cuticle. Wipe off the dead cuticle. Then carefully rinse the fingers in clear water. A touch of Cutex Nail White underneath the nails makes them immaculately clean—snow-white. Cutex Cake Polish rubbed on the palm of the A Special Christmas Manicure Set You can now get in all of the stores, the Cutex Travel- ing Manicure Set packed in an exquisite holly box for Christmas giving. The set itself includes Cutex, the cuticle remover, Cutex Nail White, Cutex Cake Polish and Cutex Paste Polish, complete with orange stick, emery boards and Gexible file. A perfect Christmas gift. Price $1.00. This co te manicure eet sent 1h cents, 25c. If your store has not yet its stock, write direct. Send now for this complete trial manicure set Send the coupon today with 14c—10c for the manicure set and 4c for packing and postage— and we will send a complete manicure set for you to try, enough for at least six ‘‘manicures.’’ Address NORTHAM WARREN Dept. 1703 9 West Broadway New York Mary Nash, whom New York theatre If you live in Canada, send 14¢ to Maclean, arcelle in’ The Wan Who Benn & Nelson, Ltd., Dept. 1703, 489 St. Paul Street West, Montreal, for your sample set and get makes my nails look so ‘much better.” Canadian prices. MAIL THIS COUPON WITH l4e TODAY NORTHAM WARREN Dept. 1703 9 West Broadway, New York | 125 ail ger ae ge AME > : \ : : : :
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Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 For She Loved Much (Continued from page 48) “Well, of all the exhibitions!’ she remarked, in low, cutting tones. ‘‘Have you lost your head, Phil?’”’ Then as he remained silent, she raised her voice. ‘“I won’t say anything about your deliber- ately slighting my opinions and those of Grace and Adelaide. T’ll ask you merely: Is this a man’s idea of justice? What claim has that girl on your kindness beyond her mates? None, except that she has misbehaved herself. And yet among the twenty-odd maids in this hotel, self- respecting girls who know how to keep themselves spotless and. hold men ata proper distance, you pick out this vicious weakling for your especial favor—for a wedding, and a fat job in the country for her new husband, and your protection for her interesting offspring?” “My reasons, Lily? It might be hard to formulate them. But perhaps a chap that’s never been granted any children of his own may like to take a whack at a little vicarious fatherhood. once in a while.” The blood rushed into Mrs. Brundidge’s face. She bit her lip and retorted, “Then, in that case, my dear Phil, why not befriend a respectable married woman in the same situation?” “When I was a boy,” returned Brun- didge slowly, ‘“‘my mother used to take me to church Sunday mornings. In sermon- time, I used to read. I remember one old story I read—about a ‘bad’ woman, as you'd call her, who was taken to somebody to be judged, and who was forgiven— because she loved much. And this poor wretch of a Callie—she has loved much, too. That janitor chap—she thought of him, not of herself. She wouldn’t give his name, because she was afraid of doing him harm. She wouldn’t even hear him blamed.” He paused a moment, then added reflectively: ‘I don’t mind own- - ing that’s what got me. She thought of him before herself. 1 didn’t think there was a woman in this city capable of doing that. And as a member of the most downtrodden sex in America, I respect- fully submit that a woman who’s capable, of sacrificing herself for a mere’ man oughtn’t to be allowed to sink into ruin.” Wetmore laughed harshly. “She might make money exhibiting her- self at the Museum of Prehistoric Remains, along with the dodo-bird—an extinct speci- men, a woman.” Grace Wetmore flushed hotly under her delicate maquillage. Wrath glittered from her handsome eyes, and she turned, with an apologetic air, to the twé other women. “Will you kindly excuse Carroll—he evidently doesn’t know what he’s saying? They’ve had a stag-dinner, and they’ve evidently drunk too much.” McGrew, who was always irritated by _ her magisterial manner, glared at her angrily. He was still sore over his dis- appointment in not being able to make fitting announcement of his day’s triumph to his wife, and now he seized ‘the first opportunity for a good snarl. “No, my dear Grace; we’re none of us drunk—not on one cocktail apiece. Though I don’t know as you girls’d have the right to kick if we were—going off and giving us the chuck the way you did.” | | | | | Like Taking an Axe | | Romoh Gems | | | & Need Nature Form Extension Shoe
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Cosmopolitan for. December, 1917 Brundidge, added slowly: “No, my fair ladies; we’re not anank— though who. can say? Perhaps we're a | bit. upset—a bit dazed still by that strong | breath of life that blew through this vapid hotel parlor a few minutes ago. It wasn’t the stage. It was the real thing—that woman! The look in her eyes—the sound of her voice! The tragedy in them! The ecstacy!”” He paused. “Of course, a business man isn’t supposed to dream dreams. Anyway, he doesn’t talk about them. But just the same—” He broke off abruptly and remained lost in thought, his chin sunk upon his hand. Wetmore stirred uneasily. His little eyes narrowed to pin-points with an expression | his wife had never seen in them before as | f he rose heavily to his feet. “You throw stones at that girl, do you? | Well, don’t ask me which I call the ‘bad’ woman—Callie, who loves a man too much and gives him all she has, or the other kind | of woman, who, safe in a sheltered life, | inclination to | without temptation or wrong-doing, gives her husband neither a | home nor children. I’m going down-town. You fellows come along?” In obvious relief, the two other men jumped to their feet. “A bully idea! ” declared Brundidge. “We won’t come home till morning!” caroled McGrew, with bitter gaiety. His eyes passed over his wife’s form as over empty space. With suddenly born terror in her pretty blue eyes, Adelaide sprang up and trotted after her husband as he strode off toward the hall. As for the stately Grace Wetmore, she remained motionless, petrified at the sudden rebellion of her fifteen years’ slave. Then, like Adelaide McGrew, she rose and hurried out into the hall. But Lily Brundidge, with the assurance of her imperious nature, barred her husband’s passage. “What nonsense is this?” she asked sharply. ‘‘Of course there’s no reason you shouldn’t go down-town if you choose— only, you’re all so strange about it. Phil, what are you going to do?” “Make a night of it,” he replied, looking sullenly into her eyes. “What! You don’t mean——” “Ves, I do,” returned the man defi- antly; ‘‘just exactly the way I did when I was a bachelor and felt like raising the roof. Well, I feel like it to-night. What have I to hold me back? I haven’t any home, any children, any wife. Excuse me—there’s a lady who bears my name, and who shares my hotel suite with me, and occasionally dines in the hotel dining- | ] room with me—if you call that marriage, I don’t. I tell you what—I’m sick of the restrictions of marriage with none of its consolations. I’m sick of this futile monotony of a bachelor existence without its compensating liberty. So now, I’ll grab the liberty for myself. I’m off!”’ Still the woman barred his way. Her beautiful eyes probed his. She hissed: “Understand me: If you leave me for— that sort of thing, I’ll leave you! You won’t find me here when you come back!” “‘T’ll find the hotel,”’ he answered brutal- ly. “What else is there?” Again their hostile glances clashed like glancing spears. In the far end of the room, a silver-chiming clock struck ten strokes. Almost simultaneously, the tele- phone-bell on the table rang. Brundidge sprang to speak to it. “Think Beyond Your Job!” gli “There is not a man in power at the Bethlchem Steel Works today,” says Charles M. Schwab, in the American Magazine, * work his way up. These leaders rose from the ranks. ‘who did not begin at the bottom and They won out by using their normal brains to think beyond their manifest daily duty. ‘Eight years ago Eugene Grace was switching engines. coupled with his sterling integrity, lifted him to the presidency of our corporation. he earned more than a million dollars. ‘‘Jimmie Ward, one of our vice-presidents, used to be a stenographer. His ability to out-think his job, Last year But he kept doing things out of his regular line of duty. He was thinking beyond his job, so 1 gave him a better one, And he has gone up and up. The fifteen men in charge of the plants were selected, not because of some startling stroke of genius, but because day in and day out, they were thinking beyond their jobs.”” What about you? Are you satisfied just to hang on where you are? If so, rest assured that's as far as you'll ever get. But if you want to be somebody, to climb to a position of responsibility, get ready for it. Do what you are doing zow better than the men beside you and train for the job ahead. Youcan do it—in spare time—through the International Correspondence Schools. For 25 years men of ambition with I. C.S. help have been making spare hours ‘he step- ping-stones to successful careers. Last year more than 5,000 reported that their studies had won for them advancement and increased sal- aries. In the Bethlehcm Steel Works alone over 100 men tight now are putting their spare time on I. C. S. courses and thinking ahead, getting ready for the better positions that surely await them. And over 130,000 others in offices, shops, stores, mines and mills and on railroads all over America are preparing in the I. C. S. way to take the next step upward. oin them! All you need ig just ordinary brains, the will to do, and the firm resolve to think ahead of the job you now hold. The C. S. are ready to make the rest easy. Make your start, take the first step right now. Mark and mail this coupon, allt. ‘in how I can qualify for the or in “before which xX. ENGINEER ALES: HIP Electric Lighting DVERTISING Electric Railways Window Trimmer elegrap) inter Telephone Work Railroad Ti MEOHANIOAL ENGINEER ILLUSTRATING Mechanical Draftsman Cartooning hine Shop Practice BOOKKEEPER Gas Engine Operating | CIVIL ENGINEER Cert. Pub. Accountant urveying and Mapping FIC MINE FoukWs E eR | Commercial Law STATIONARY ENGINEER OOD School Subjects | Contractor and Builder Math e Arehitect ERVICE Goncrete Railway Clerk Sheet Metal Worker Navi ; Gorman | Textile Overseer or Supt, AGRIOULTURE rreneh J}CHEMIST PoultryRaising italisa Name. Present | Street ° and No. | City. State. === == TEAR OUT UT HERE : St “SCHOOLS The price is the only difference between Kal- and ranges and Send for 4 new catalog A Kalamazes Direct to You | BANKING BY M/A INTEF NG Cleveland you can open a Savings Account at 4% compound interest with this bank— the Oldest Trust Company in Ohio. 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PERRINS is the secret of a delicious turkey-dressing—one that will remind you of your childhood when “stuffin’s” was the best part of the Christmas Dinner. It is a dressing everybody will like. This is the recipe for making it: Blanch 50 chestnuts, boil 30 minutes, drain and mash. Add 2 cups chopped cooked veal or poultry, 1 tablespoon salt, teasp pepper, 1 teasp hopped parsley, 2 tablespoons Lea & Perrins Sauce, 4 tablespoons melted butter, 2 teaspoon poultry seasoning. This famous relish helps also in many othe. ways toward the enjoyment of the Yuletide Feast. In the oyster-cocktail sauce, the soup, the entree: in the turkey gravy and the salad dressing it lends an appetizing zestend smack that makes of each and every course a feature of the feast, i Send postal for complete directions for roasting tur- key stuffed with chestnut ng described oppo- site. This and 100 other recipes by Marion H. Neil, in handy Kitchen Hanger, free from LEA PERRINS 241 West St., New York se the first - related in Penrod Jashber, ment The irrepessible Penrod, coming under the powerful influence of motion-picture plays, loses his sympathy hod e devel a new ambi- ber, a famous January Cosmopolitan r2mo. “For those who want a ti A Story of Cape Cod “These are genuine ‘Cape Folks.’ of Cape Yankees.""—The Boston “The sto “A healthy well-sustain: The Oregonian. Strong, Patriotic and Uplifting BELINDA RED CROSS By ROBERT W. HAMILTON Cloth. Illustrated with Colored Jacket by A. O. Scott. CAP’N ABE STOREKEEPER novel of Cape — : est in the fortunes of the characters in story i tained.”’"—The Standard Union. SULLY AND KLEINTEICH, Publishers, NEW YORK 3rd Large Edition By JAMES A. COOPER Cloth, 12mo. Illustrated and With Colored Jacket. Net $1.25 The ne | the thoughts and speak the er is well worth while.”"—N. Y. Eve. Post. “Plenty of action and a spice of humor. "—San Francisco Chronicle. Cod. Net $1.25 is well sus- Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 “Yes, yes; this is Brundidge. Florrie! It’s you?” With the shining little instrument held up to his head, the wintry harshness of his expression dissolved like snow beneath a burning glass. A sharp spasm contracted the heart of the woman watching him. More conclusively than his wrath, this sudden tenderness evoked by another hand than hers showed her how completely she had lost him. And, inevitably, what had appeared of small import while indisput- ably her own revealed itself in its true value as she saw it slip from her grasp. Good, easy-going, generous old Phil, whom, in her heart, she had half despised fer his unquestioning compliance with all her wishes—was this he, this commanding handsome stranger, with the stony eyes and the bitter, sneering lips, eyes and lips that had softened to sudden tenderness at the sound of a voice other than hers? And, for the first time in her glitteringly successful life, the regal woman knew the humiliating emotion of jealousy. She quivered and cowered while Brundidge continued to telephone. “Your dad’s got through the operation safely? MHeart-action beginning again all right? . . . The doctors say I can see him to-morrow evening? ... All right! run out about six o’clock—and—God bless you, Florrie!”’ His hand was unsteady as he laid the instrument down on the table. “Old Charley’s out of the woods all right,” he said vaguely. And sinking into an armchair, he covered his face with his hand. A curious medley of emotions struggled in the heart of the woman watching him. Finally, conquering her pride, she ap- proached his bent form and laid a white hand on his shoulder. ¥ “Phil, I’m so glad! I’m so glad for poor Charley and Julie—and for you!” Un- consciously, her haughty voice had fallen to accents of pleading. “Phil, will you let me go out to Nutley with you to- morrow afternoon?” He lifted a ravaged face whereon bitter- ness had again stamped its haggard mark. “You, Lily? What’d you find to interest you, out there? Just a plain little house—a home, with a sick man and his dowdy little wife. You know you always turn up your nose at Julie. No, Lily; I don’t think you need to come. What’d you do in a house like that?” It was the first time he had ever opposed a categorical refusal to a bequest of hers. The breath strangled in ‘Lily’s throat. She had a confused sensation of fighting for life—for something more precious than life. She, the skilled and fluent oratress, fumbled wildly for a fitting reply. “What could I do? Why, I—I could make myself useful. I could look after the children, for instance.” “ Y ou? ” The monosyllable was a lash of scorn. Lily shrank away. Her husband rose to his feet, remarking briefly: “The less you say about children, Lily, the better. And now, I’m off down-town. Good night!” Mrs. Brundidge’s beautiful face was blanched and contorted. So this was the end of her conquering day! After her sweeping triumph in the world of women, here she had returned home to find herself face to face with utter defeat. And, ina - 128 AUC E W OF < ADE ER il 5 Bicester ano The Original Worcestershire Sauce M liv A “Penrod” Serial, By Booth Tarkington embarks on a series of | beyond his previous amazing exploits. || 6 To meet Cap’n Abe, is never to forget him Bra \
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Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 ae cum a Crea i “See how wonderful Vanishing Cream has CuNTON, rs | made my skin look—so soft and pink and vel- vety—and it will stay so all evening too.” know how purifying, how refreshi ing and massage cream could be. “Until I used Pond's Cold Cream I did not ing a cleanse . Why every normal skin needs two creams O give your complexion the care it needs, ‘wo creams are necessary. For cleansing and massage, a cold cream (oil cream) should be used. To protect the skin and keep it soft and pliant, a grease- less cream should b« used. For cleansing and massage No matter how sensitive the grit and grime of dust have made your skin, with Pond’s Cold Cream you can thoroughly cleanse it of all impurities without creating the least irritation. For massage, where smooth consistency is so important, Pond’s Cold Cream was especially formulated. When your skin needs Vanishing Cream To keep the skin soft and pliable even through the hardest, wintriest weather, use Pond’s Vanishing Cream. It is a greaseless cream; contains no oil, and the moment you apply it, the skin absorbs it entirely, leaving not the slightest trace of shine. Pond’s Vanishing Cream contains an _ingredient which has a peculiar affinity for When to use Cold Cream For cleansing. To cleanse your skin of al! the dirt which lodges in the pores through the day, and which, more than anything else, injures the skin, Pond’s Cold Cream is just what you should use. For massage. You will find Pond’s Cold Cream wonderful for massage. Itis exceptionally smooth and works into the pores so easily. For dry skin. Pond’s Cold Cream will add just che oil your skin needs to restore its pliancy and keep it in good condition. the skin—an ingredient which physicians have long recognized as one of the utmost value in the care of the skin. People with oily skins should use only Vanishing Cream The famous skin specialist, William Allen Pusey, A:M:., M.D., says that The teautiful Marion Davies starr in the motion picture “* Run- away Romany" says— Vanishing Cream, I don't see & I ever got along without it.”” | | Billie Burke whose beau- tiful skin is envied by everyone who sees her 2 ~ says: one appre- ciates Pond's Vanishing Cream more than persons with coarse pores and large fat glands should avoid fatty toilet prepara- tions. Pond’s Vanishing Cream is just what the oily skin needs. Having no vil in it, it can add none to your skin. It vanishes at once—does not fill up the already distended pores. Neither Pond’s Cold Cream nor Pond’s Vanishing Cream will cause the growth of hair. On sale in all drug stores and depart- ment stores. Get a tube or jar of each cream today and see how quickly their use will improve your skin. Send for free samples If you would like to try Pond’s Cold Cream and Pond’s Vanishing Cream, fill out the coupon now and we will send you samples of each cream free. Or send 4c for enough of either cream to last - two weeks—8c if vou wish both. -Write today. Address Pond’s Extract Co., 152 Hudson Street, New York. Mail this coupon today POND’S EXTRACT CO. When Vanishing Cream is necessary Chapped skin. If your skin is rough, red and chapped, one application of Pond's Vanishing Cream will relieve it. Asa protection. Apply Pond's Vanishing Cream just before you go out. Notice the soft, fresh condi- tion in which it keeps your skin. As a base for powder. The next time you want your skin to look its loveliest, make Pond's Vanish- ing Cream your finishing touch and one powdering will be sufficient for a whole evening. 152 Hudson Street, New York City. A free sample of Pond’s Vanishing Cream A free sample of Pond's Cold Cream Instead of the free sampies, I desire the items checked below, for which I enclose the required amount. A 4c sample of Pond’s Vanishing Cream A 4c sample of Pond's Cold Cream r | | Please send me free the items checked: | 00" — 129 | < COMPANY | | | | | | | | i R | | | | Name. . i Chg... State.....
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The Turn-down Lamp The simple turning of HYLO Mazda Lamp up or down may aptly be compared to the functions of the Sun and Moon. Turned “HY” you get a brilliant, clear white light—turned “LO” a subdued light that is ample for your needs in sickroom, nursery, bathroom, bedroom, stairway, hall, storeroom, porch, and garage. You save % the Electricity when turned “LO”, which means that each lamp pays for itself 4 to 5 times over during its life. A Little Light All Night is Right The advantages of a little light instead of dense darkness in the home are many. Accidents — trivial and serious —are pre- vented—Burglars keep their distance and night calls, whether sickness or other emer- gency, are not half as disturbing as when your home is in total darkness. In Home —Office— Factory — Store HYLO means safety and protection. Turned “LO” the cost is only % a cent all night for each HYLO Lamp. HYLO turned “Lo” consumes one-fourth of the current used by Resistance devices. Hylo Carbon 8 or 4 Candiepower 160r 1 Candlepower Hylo Mazda 250r 5 Watts 20 or 1 Candlepower 400r 5 Watts 60c 32 0r 1 Candlepower 90c HYLO Mazda for Private Home and Farm plants. Sa Ask your Electric Light Company, Electric or Hardware Dealer or Department Store to supply you. Every HYLO is guaranteed—Money back if you want it. Write for new Booklet ‘Electric Light & and Comfort"’ ECONOMICAL ELECTRIC LAMP DIVISION National Lamp Works of General Electric Company 22 West Broadway New York City me price—28 or 32 volts. © Pain! No matter what the we'l ag penctrating heat, into the cause—you will find instant relief in Ser to any electric light ee fixture and apply where needed. doce what your hot water bottle can never do —-infusi affected inches. Harmiess—ask your own dostor. beck, if dissatisfied. Free booklet. ~G. McFADDIN & CO., 40 Wi St., New Y: cnermofite, ng radiant light, tissues to a depth of two $7.50 delivered—mo:ey flash of clairvoyance that stopped the very beating of her heart, she realized that here, where there was a pitiful failure, was her place and her life, and that her success in the world outside was ashes in her mouth. “Phil,” she said humbly; “Phil.” Then suddenly her woman’s heart, long deadened by vanity and futile ambitions, stirred to life within her. She leaned .| toward her husband. The very lines of her proud figure had become those of pleading. “Don’t go yet—listen to me just a moment! I’ve been blind. I never realized how you felt about things. That is, when we were first married, I told you, ‘Later on, time enough to tie our- selves down with a house and children.’ Then the years went by—we got into the habit of living like this. I got interested in suffrage and the Woman’s movement, and clubs and things. But, oh, Phil, all these other things, without you—they’re dust and ashes to me! And if I have to choose, it’s you I want, my dearest—I want you for mine, as I want to be all Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 yours. Take me back, Phil! Let me be your wife again—your real wife, this time! Take me out to Nutley with .you to- morrow! Let’s pick out a house together —there or anywhere you like—that’ll be a home—a real home——”’ She stopped short, and, with a gesture so implicit that it seemed as though her very body spoke, her arms curved up toward her beautiful bosom in the attitude of a Madonna, and into her tormented eyes crept for a moment something of the rich peace of the painted canvases. Doubtful whether her eloquence was that of real emo- tion or of her facile oratory, her husband stared at her. In the face of his hesitation, tears started from her eyes. She cried out, weeping and trembling: “That woman in the Bible that you talked about—she was forgiven because she loved much. And I—I’ve been a bad woman, too, though I never intended—I never realized— But oh, Phil, I ought to be forgiven like her, because I love much, too—I do—oh, indeed I do!” Bruadidge’s arms, flung outward, seized their own. In Came a Fat Man (Continued from page 83) Oh, pshaw! A hundred dollars a day would —but no—what was the use of being greedy? You couldn’t spend a hundred a ‘day if you tried. Still; there were the chil- dren—and the grandchildren. And look here, Jimmy: You can’t figure on a hundred all the days and every day, anyhow. There’s Sundays and holidays off; and you have to allow for slack seasons and strikes and such things. Say a hundred, and you’d be sure of fifty. Out of that, you could live as extravagant as a human being could live, and still save forty dollars a day. How much would that be in a year, John, counting, say, just for rough, on three hundred working-days? Twelve thousand dollars. Do you suppose uncle Ben would lend us a hundred? Even those calloused commercial adven- turers, J. Rufus Wallingford and Blackie Daw, were astounded at the response to the golden opportunity. “This legitimate-business thing gets me, jim,” confessed Blackie, in his private office, and he gazed incredulously at the pile of checks, money-orders, and cash in the wire basket on his desk. “It beats any graft I ever saw.” “Yes,” agreed J. Rufus, frowning; “but it’s crooked.” “It’s what?” Blackie looked at his partner in surprise; then he laughed. “TI see; you're spiffing the spoof. Why, Jim, we never tackled a deal so square. We're doing it just like regular prémoters. We have that letter you got Hillsign to write, insisting that the stock be thrown open to popular subscription; the motor is a wonder if it works and proves practical; these are the actual photographs of the shops where the motors are being made— all two of them; and there will be a profit of a hundred apiece in the motors if they ever sell at the price we set. There isn’t a lie in this advertisement. Why, I feel like a regular business man!’’ “T feel like a thief,” growled Wallingford; then he looked into the basket and began to chuckle. “I guess I can stand it though, old pal. A man can stand a lot when the money’s rolling in. Anyhow, as long as the boob public believes anything and everything it sees in an advertisement, somebody’s going to trim them; and it might as well be done by trimmers. How soon do we get to ours?” “Now!” exulted Blackie. “Do you see this check for fifty thousand. Well, that’s . the second and last payment. on-the com- pany’s hundred thousand. I sent “em the other fifty last week.” “TI was there when they got it,” grinned J. Rufus. “Noah Presber and four other directors took it to the bank.” “This morning’s receipts and yesterday's pay the advertising bill; then the balance is velvet. All for us, Jimmy! Then the stockholders are going to sell half of their three hundred thousand; we’ll get two- thirds of that half, which will give us——” “Say!”’ Chinchilla Williams, with an ex- pression of grave concern amid his glossy black whiskers. He came in and closed the door behind him, drew near, and lowered his voice. ‘“There’s a little six-cylinder guy out there wants to see Mr. Hillsign.” “Not in!” chorused the partners, grin- ning. “Oh, yes; I told him, just like that,” retorted Chinchilla, ‘cand he won’t go away. Say, boys, my wife’s kinda’ sick, and I think I’ll take her up in the country for a few days.” The grins changed to looks of concern. “What is he?’ demanded Wallingford, “‘a gum-shoe bull or a plain Pink?” “Well, he wants to know how and when and where and why this man Hillsign came into the company—before or after he invented the machine.” Low, very low whistles from the partners. A lawyer! “Tell him Hillsign will be here all next week,” was Wallingford’s carefully consid- ered decision. ‘And as soon as he’s gone, scrape Blackie’s name off the entrance, but leave the Hillsign Company’s name on the middle door.” 130 | Save AF yourElectricity | } by using | |
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Reflections that show Tire Chains as the only real dependable device for the prevention of skidding, do not come to some motorists until their bare rubber tires skid and carry them upon the rocks of disaster. How strange it is that some men are never guided by the experience ofothers. Weed Tire Chains ‘or Pneumatic Tires After the Skidding The world’s largest automobile insurers, after long and vast experience in handling auto- mobile accident claims, strongly advise the use of Tire Chains on every automobile they insure. The Aetna Life Insurance Company, The Aetna Casualty and Surety Company and The Automobile Insurance Company of Hartford, Conn., now print on their automobile policies the vital information that Tire Chains are the only real dependable device for the prevention of skidding. Could anyone imagine a stronger endorsement ? Weed Chains onYourTires Reflect Your Prudence and Intelligence | AMERICAN CHAIN COMPANY, Inc. BRIDGEPORT \¢/ CONNECTICUT In Canada: Dominion Chain Company, Limited, Niagara Falls, Ontario Largest Chain Manufacturers in the World ; The Complete Chain Line—All Types, All Sizes, All Finishes—From Plumbers’ Safety Chain to Ships’ Anchor Chain . They read the newspaper accounts of disastrous skidding accidents caused by lack of Tire Chains, but they do not heed the warning. They wait until the skidding of their own bare rubber tires results in death, injury or car-damage before they realize that tires are safe on wet-slippery-skiddy roads only when encased in Tire Chains. Weed Chains Cosmopoliian for December, 1917 131 | Solid Tires | | |’,
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It is the famous green glass shade with the white opal lining— the one you know KEEPS FURNITURE LOOKING NEW Don’t let grime, smoke stains, finger marks and scratches, make your fur- niture look old before it’s time when $-in-One will keep it new looking all the time. Do this: Wring out a cloth in cold water. Add afew drops of 3-in-One. Wipe furniture, wringing out cloth frequently. Dry and polish with a | | woolen cloth or a cheese cloth, rubbing always with the grain of the wood. This removes unsightly marks and stains, and brings again the first new, | | beautiful look. Also use | 3-in-One oil an adaptable little lamp capable of serving you in half a dozen ways, you find it kinder than ever to your eyes. You can focus the light exactly where you want it—where you need it. The shade is adjustable at any angie—and so is the lamp. Y@ucan stand Emeralite Jr. ona writing desk online it from the mirror ona dressing table. You can clamp it to the back of your favorite chair—or to the head of your bed. to make a fine dustless duster. Or oil your sewing machines with it. Rub it over bathroom fixtures and is in . grocery, ware, housefurnishing and jgeneral stores: 1 oz. bottle, 15c; 8 oz., 40 Warren Street Every member of your family will find Emer- useful as it is restful. If your desler docs not q carry these, we sen Free booklet on request. - you one by, _ post, full H. G. McFADDIN & CO. F R E E—A generous sample of 3-in-One and the $-in-One Dictionary Three-in-One Oil Co. Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 When they were alone, Wallingford and Blackie sat for a long time gazing at each other thoughtfully. Blackie at last. “Do? Stop us; that’s all. But we're through.” “And we didn’t cop a cent out of it— not ared.” Suddenly Blackie reached over and tore up the company’s fifty-thousand- dollar check. “This much they don’t get, anyhow.” Wallingford frowned over that and shook his head;. but presently he began to chuckle. “No; take ’emi their check,” he advised. “‘Here’s where you reform, and it’s about time. I feel more at home now.” IV “‘GOOD-MORNING, gentlemen,” said Mr. Wallingford suavely, walking into the directors’ meeting of the Hillsign Storage- Motor Company. A grunt answered him, and the lean lumpy President Hillsign, surveyed him from under knotted eyebrows. J. Rufus, unusually urbane this morning, wasentirely oblivious to the sharpened noses and nar- rowly wrinkled eyes as he tossed his gloves “This is a happy day, boys!” he exulted. “T understand that the company now has its hundred thousand dollars of cash capital complete, and we are ready to do business. I suggest, first, an advertising appropriation of “You might jes’ 2s well stop where you are, James Rufus Wallingford,” rasped Noah Presber, rising to his lean length. “You ain’t goin’ to git your fingers on ary cent of this company’s money; you ain’t goin’ to give this company any advice or directions; you ain’t goin’ to manage this company any more, and you ain’t goin’ to have anything whatsomever to do with this company!” ‘“‘What’s this you say?” demanded the astounded Wallingford. ‘Gentlemen, I don’t understand.” “We do!” shrilled Pinchot Weeks, and a cackle of laughter ran round the board. Inventor Hillsign was particularly scorn- ful with his laugh. He wore a new suit of clothes now, a white shirt and white collar and a red necktie. charged brown “You skinned us!” Amos Wycliff, his thin lips dividing his face into two sections with a sharp, straight line. ’ “Keep still, Amos!” called Ashley Bevin. “Noah has the floor.” “IT demand an instant explanation!” called J. Rufus. “You'll git it, you bet your boots!” retorted Noah, and his wit made a hit with his fellow financiers. ‘We was greenhorns when you come among us, Wallingford, and you took a slick advan- tage of our helpless condition. What did you do, Wallingford? Why, you said, ‘There is a valuable invention, the product of a genius——’”’ “Two of ’em,” interrupted President Hillsign, on which there was a shrill grow from Josiah Goodheart. ; “The product of two geniuses,” cor- rected Noah, pounding on the bench with his hardknuckles. ‘“That’s what you said 165 EF. Broadway, New York -to yourself, James Rufus Wallingford, in “What can they do, Jim?” asked directors, increased now by the addition of © in his hat and laid his stick across the brim. . 132 \ Ne. 14> Gold > ae. | Plate, $6.00 a | | = |) iy \ time | | j | | | best—and in PMERALITE | | | ‘ UBRICAT today.
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IME say that the world is ungrateful An’ often pays evil for good— I reckon they ain’t raised tobacco and dogs, Or treated the same as they should. For age-mellowed Velvet will mo’ than repay All that patience an’ care can expend, An’ the bow-legged puppy some day is a dog That would lay down his life for his friend. IME is money—two years that Velvet spends slowly ageing in huge wooden hogsheads represents a heavy expenditure. But how richly Nature repays that investment. Those two years make Velvet mild and mellow, cool and smooth, and bring out the flavor of the rich Kentucky Burley tobacco to its utmost. - Fill your pipe with Velvet and let it prove what we can only tell. Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 133 ay (0 | Liggett Myers Tobacco Cx BRACKLR—
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Bryant, Sth Ave. and 38th _your slick way, and you tricked around and schemed around and manipulated around till you got more than half of that million- |dollar company away from the hard-work- ing inventors and from the investors that had put up their hard-earned money, and /you got it into your own slick hands, and |} you never put up a single darned cent!” “And you only paid me ten thousand stock for my patents, Wallingford,” asserted Mr. Hillsign, in a loudly indignant voice. “You, took advantage of .my ignorance, too; and my patents was the importantest ones. They——” “It ain’t so!” yelled Josiah Goodheart, smiting the bench with both fists and thereby aiding himself to rise. ‘Your dog-goned contraptions spoil my motor, an’ they have to come off. You ain’t no inventor; you couldn’t invent——” “Liar!” heatedly retorted J. A. Hillsign. “T’m inventin’ a perpetual-motion machine right now that’ll——” “Looky here!’’ shrieked Noah Presber. “Have I or hain’t I got the floor, Mr. President, according to agreement?”’ “Order!” growled Hillsign, and he pounded with a mallet that served asa gavel and sat down. Noah resumed: “Now, James Rufus Wallingford, the sense of this board is that you got to disgorge. Out you go! You're crooked!” It was easy to see that the-slick stranger who had taken advantagt of these honest investors was a guilty man. Through all these charges, he sat mopping his brow, and the eyes which were won’t to look clearly into the eyes of his fellows were averted from every honest gaze. Now, however, he rose and put on a defiant front. “Be careful of what you say, gentlemen,” he warned them, bold as brass, though his eyes roved. ‘‘There are courts and laws in this land, remember. charged that I have not been honest, and I may make you prove it.” “Bring in your witness, Noah, and make short work of the skinner,” creaked Pinchot Weeks, rubbing his hands to- gether; and relish was on every face. Noah was already at the door of the room where the little engine was installed. He threw open that door, and there, framed in the entrance, stood a tall, lanky gentle- man in a silk hat and a glove-fitting black frock suit—a gentleman with pointed black mustaches and keen black eyes; in short, Horace G. Daw! The jaw of the guilty Wallingford dropped and his eyes rounded, while his big pink face actually turned pale. “You!” he, stammered. “Yes; me, scoundrel!” returned Mr. Daw, in firm tones, and he advanced and confronted the abashed culprit. “I am no longer your tool, Jim Wallingford! Ihave thrown off the shackles! I ama free man!’ “You?” “Yes; me, viper!”’ The free man raised his hand impressively on high. “In the silent night, my conscience overcame my heart, and I resolved to tell all. I have shown these worthy gentlemen the agree- ment you made me sign to give you a hundred and fifty thousand out of the two hundred thousand I was to get for selling the company’s stock. That’s an under- handed trick you played on these honest persons, and in law it’s cheating. I’ll go on Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 You have . The next Wallingford story will appear in January Cosmopolitan. the witness-stand, you monster in human form, you fat demon of iniquity; and tell the truth! I was willing to make these sales for an honesf figure, you oily worm of greed, but you wouldn’t let me have the job unless I tacked on that hundred and fifty thousand of these upright peoples’ money for you! Now you know!” James Rufus Wallingford, driven des- perate by the uncovering of his deceit, made one more brassy stand. “IT won't give up a cent!” he cried. “T’ll go to jail before I’ll let loose! I’1L—— “Cease!” commanded the austere Mr. Daw, pointing an accusing forefinger at him. . “You have already given it up. You transferred every share of your stock to me for sale, over half a million dollars’ worth, and I’m going to transfer it over to the rightful owners, without money and without price! Go!” It was a dramatic moment as those two men of a black past, one reformed and the other still hard in his heart, confronted each other. Wallingford turned and went to the door, toward which the long, lean forefinger of Mr. Daw rigidly pointed. “Go, despicable sinner; go! And may this be a lesson to you, thou miserable snake of sin, thou contemptible fiend of fraudulency, thou loathsome lump of vile villainy. Go, wretch; go!” Outside the door, as it slammed, there sounded a suppressed snort; a sob of sorrow perhaps, or perhaps a roar of rage; perhaps! “Now, friends,” said the righteous Mr. Daw, turning briskly to the highly edified and satisfied board, ‘‘our plan worked, and we'll finish our business. Where’s that certified check?” Silence. Then Noah Presber slowly rose. “Well, Mr. Daw,” he said, “‘seems to us that you'd ought to reform all the way, and—— “The laborer is worthy of his hire,” promptly stated Mr. Daw. “Un-hunh,” grudgingly granted Noah. “Anyways, you’d ort to be satisfied with fifty thousand. That’s what you was to get from that skinner Wallingford, and if you take a hundred, which is every last cent now in our treasury, you’re a puttin’ a price on a gi eed—and good deeds had ought to be beyond price.” The reformed Mr. Daw bent his lean face into their midst, and his black eyes glittered and his black. mustaches lifted. “If you want that near six hundred thousand shares of stock transferred to you for division, and if you want possession of the office where the money is rolling in to buy that stock, sign this assumption of all assets, liabilities, and responsibilities, and give me that certified check for a hundred thousand dollars, or in about one minute, there’ll be a _reformed-sinner backslide with a splash which will scatter blobs of melted brimstone all over the fiery pit. Come across!” Hours laters, when they were whirling cityward, with the big check already on its way to safety in their bank, Blackie looked up from a brown study. “Say, Jim, a crook who tosses the bluff that he isn’t a crook is worse than a crook who says he’s a crook.” “Cut the bunk,” advised J. Rufus. “That’s a crook’s excuse. There’s no difference.” 7 Mak Make | ‘| \ ; i! ‘ ‘ * 4 ream—tefiect health, beau refinement. ss Be sure you D & R Perfect Cold Cream, i mM made first by Daggett & Ramsdell more than i mM © twenty-five years ago, and still manufactured only ‘ M bvthem. It is “The Kind that Keeps” —the kind if il ‘ i it if | q | | SSS x dom through diaphragm — balance to the figure and a straight, long- early. Ample outlets. We are the largest dealers in the world in e.. epparel for Maternity, and know every re- Le ulrement of the YY | joa
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Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 Camilla (Continued from page 60) Salt Mackerel CODFISH, FRESH. LOBSTER ~ his ardor. the expanse of silver tray glimmering like a pool of water. It bore for its most note- worthy object a high central vessel. All round this conning-tower was ranged a fleet of tiny dishes like little canoes or Irish coracles in the service of the greater vessel. “What is it going to be?” he asked. “As if I’d tell you!” “It’s awful,” remarked the guest, “the hunger these preparations produce.” ‘Are you really hungry, or just pretend- ing?” “Try me!” The footman came back with the wine opened and a loaf of bread. “That’s all; you needn’t wait.’ “Oh, very well ’m. at’m?” “We—NMr. Nancarrow will attend to the hat. Leave a brush on the hall table.” Henry vanished. “You'll have to be rewarded for this!” Michael should not have said it. In- stinctively Camilla turned away from his too agitating neighborhood and _ laid hands upon the homely staff of life. She cut two slices of bread and brought them on a plate to the fire. In the other hand she held something shining. This, as she pulled out the three telescoped lengths, was revealed as a. toasting-fork. She impaled a slice of bread and knelt down before the fire. Michael leaned over, the better to see her face in the firelight. “You are adorable when you blush,’’ he said, very low. “I never saw you do it before——” “If you were straight in front of that fire, you’d blush, too,”’ she said. As he bent nearer. “Here, try it—Englishmen are dreadfully lazy.”” She handed him the toasting-fork. He put his hand over hers. But her fingers slipped out and left him with the fork. Now she was lighting a blue flame under the stand that bore the high dish. She stood there measuring, stirring. When presently Michael glanced over his shoulder, he surprised her looking at him. A look that, but for Alice’s warning, would have carried him hot-foot across the room. “You make me wonder’’—his voice was misleadingly quiet—‘‘whether other people could say so much without words if they gave themselves a chance. Is it lack of faith that throws them back on chatter?” “You want to console me for having no small talk?” He lounged over to the table, holding out the toast. “It wouldn’t be fair if you had small talk as well as your range of silence.” She detached the toast. “Quite nice.” She offered the fork again. “No; go and do another, please.”” Instead of taking the fork, he took the hand that lay on the rim of the tray and carried it to his lips. Her fingers trembled under He stilled their tremulousness between his palms, and he looked at her with the eyes of possession. Her own answered joy for joy before, under the weight of gladness, the lids went down. “You didn’t get my flowers,” he said. “ves; “But you didn’t wear them?” She drew her hand away and sat down. “Don’t ever send me camellias, please.” “No?” He opened his eyes. ‘You haven’t any idea of the trouble I took. And they didn’t please you?” “Not camellias. Anything but camel- lias.” She spoke with an odd, soft vehe- mence. “Oh-h,” he said reproachfully, “I’ve loved them ever since I knew you. They’ve always reminded me of “Don’t!” she exclaimed. “T was only going to say they make me think of your face.” “T knew that’s what you meant. you must never say it.’’ As she lifted her eyes, she drew away as far as the great chair would let her. The motion was plainly instinctive. But it had all that effect of overemphasis that attends expressiveness on the part of the naturally unpictorial. Nancarrow laughed. “T didn’t know you were so vain.” stared. ‘But isn’t it like life.” He slipped into the chair beside her. “Here are you, with your glorious tints of cream and russet, and yet you go envying the everlasting roses and lilies.” “Tt’s not that at all.” “What then—what’s wrong?” “It’s been said,” she answered, very low. “T don’t like the things that have been said.” “You mean, it reminds you—— “Yes,” she interposed. The look he bent on her of worshiping tenderness darkened before the thought of all the grieving, all she must have gone through to create such shrinking. “What happened after I left Florida?” “It was happening,” she said slowly, “while you were there.” “Was it?” “T expect you knew.” She waited. He made no sign. “Everybody knew,” she went on, “except me. The only thing that happened after that, even I i She got up, abandoned the blue flame, and went toward the crackling logs. She stood with her back to Nancarrow as she said, “You won’t mind if I can’t bear to talk about—all that?” “No, dearest of all the world,” he said, in that reassuring voice of his, and he was at her side; “I don’t want to talk about anything under God’s heaven to- night except you and me.” “ *To-night,’ ”’ she echoed, and still she stood there with eyes that looked back across the Atlantic, “I will tell you any- thing you need to—or want to know. But I don’t feel’’—she hesitated—‘“‘as if I ought ever to discuss Leroy—not intimately— with anybody. Will you mind?” ‘Mind?’ Ihave to prod myself into believing he ever existed.” “Don’t, then.” With an odd solemnity, she gave him back her hands. The com- pact was sealed. She uttered a little ex- clamation and ran swiftly to the table as if to save the supper from burning—or was it to save herself ? She stood stirring the compound which the discreet blue flame had warmed to bubbling savoriness, and she nodded to- ward the second piece of bread. “T must have toast, too.” She ” But | RIGHT FROM THE FISHING BOATS TO YOU FAMILIES who are fond of FISH can be supplied DIRECT from GLOUCESTER, MASS., by the FRANK E. DAVIS COMPANY, with newly caught, KEEPABLE OCEAN FISH, choicer than any in- land dealer could possibly furnish. We sell ONLY TO THE CONSUMER DIRECT, sending by by EXPRESS RIGHT TO YOUR HOME. PAY express on all orders east of Kansas. Our fish are pure, appetizing and economical and we want YOU to try some, payment subject to your approval. SALT MACKEREL, fat, meaty, juicy fish, are delicious for breakfast. They are fre eshly packed in brine and will not spoil on your hands. CODFISH, as we salt it, is white, boneless and ready for instant use. It makes a substantial meal, a fine change from meat, at a much lower cost. FRESH LOBSTER is the best thing known for salads. 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Here's the gift fora youth or man. “He” will be delighted with } this new, novel, useful present instead of ties, cigars, pipes, etc. Besides, he'll save at least $15 a year and use the Press as long as he lives.- Delivered in an attractive i holly-decorated gift package. Get this Press to-day. » Only $1 If You Keep It Nothing If You Don’t Buy the Press at our risk. Won't cost a cent if you don’t keep it, and only $1 if you do. Costs nothing to operate. Agents wanted. Buy It At Notion Counter Of Your Favorite Department Store Send Coupon - DEALERS—Big magazine and newspaper cam- Y paign. Nearly 1,000,000 sold. Write us. MONEY BACK COUPON Aute Vacuum Freezer Co., 25V West Broadway, N.Y. Enclosed is $1. Please send me tpaid one Leahey’s Heatless Trousers Press. If at the end of ten days I do not wish to keep it I will return it and you will reurn my dollar. (Specify me- % dium or stout size.) ‘History World | AT A BARGAIN We will name our special low price on Ridpath’s History and easy terms only in direct letters to those mailing us Coupon below. Tear off Coupon, write name and address plainly, and mail now before you forget it. The 32 Free Sample Pages will give you some idea of the sp'endid Mustrations and wonderfully beauti- work is written ful style in which the Mail the Coupon now. and < Out Mall WESTERN NEWSPAPER ASSOOIATION 12-17 140 So. Dearborn St., Hl. Please mail your 832-page free sample booklet of The History of the World, and write me full particulars of your spe- cial offer to Cosmopolitan readers. “Well, rather!” He speared up the slice, but his eyes were with Camilla—Camilla lifting a glass bowl and holding back raw oysters with a strainer, pouring the liquor off into the steaming dish. Nancarrow asked if “the oysters didn’t go in, too?” “Not yet. They’d be tough.” © She slid a look at him. “Mustn’t watch me.” “Look here! If I can’t even watch ou——’’ “Watch the toast—it’s burning!” He repudiated the injustice, but he hastily turned the slice. Camilla sat down. Now she had taken off the cover and poured the oysters into the creaming broth. “Come,” she said, with a housewifely air; “‘supper’s ready. Eat it while it smokes.”” When she had blown out the flame at the end of a silver trumpet, she offered him a box With a single, half-defiant word: “Crackers.” He laughed and held them in his hand till he saw her drop hers in her steaming bowl. The crackers floated about, half submerged, like little white submarines. And they broke crisply under the teeth. She smiled when he demanded more. “You are like a great hungry schoolboy.” “Why did you never show us this room when Alice and I were here?” “T never bring anybody here.” He had no idea, he said, that she was so selfish. “I admit there is a very special atmosphere about it. I can’t believe sitting here—that it’s a wild, black, pelting night outside—can you?” “That was just what I used to feel at Nancarrow,” she said dreamily. “I forgot the storms outside.” “Doesn’t that show—” He broke off. She raised her eyes. ‘I don’t see how you could do it—go away like that.” She pushed the cigarette-box toward him. He lit a match and watched it burn till the flame seemed to touch his fingers. Then he dropped it in his saucer. “Didn’t you realize what you were doing to me?” “A little sharp suffering—if it was sharp.” At the sudden raising of his eyes, “Forgive me,” she said; “‘but a few days of it—that’s better than a long battle.” had settled on her face. “What do you mean? There wasn’t— there isn’t going to be any long battle.” “Tf I hadn’t gone away, there would have been. Your mother——” “Well, what about my mother?” “Either you’d have to go away from Nancarrow—and that’s unthinkable—or— your mother would go.” He looked at her with a moment’s wondering tenderness. “You had hoped she wouldn’t?” Then he brushed it aside. ‘‘All that will arrange itself.. I don’t pretend that I think about that at all. All I think about is that you are more to me than anybody alive. It was never the least use your talking about going out of my life by leaving Nancarrow. There’s only one way you can go out of my life.” He leaned nearer. ‘‘Dearest— dearest—” She seemed to sink deeper into the depths of the great chair. Nerves less responsive than Michael’s would have failed to interpret that slight stirring of the figure. His quick, country-bred eye had seen the nested bird make that faint, settling movement before flight. Again Alice’s warning came into his mind: ‘Go slow. If you frighten her, you’re done.” The shadows _ Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 He smiled now at the idea, but, all the same, he sat quite still. “Tt isn’t your beauty only,” he said, in his low, controlled voice. “It isn’t only your gentleness. I don’t honestly know which I love most—your body or your soul. But now that I’ve found you, I could no more give you up and go on with life than I could give up half my body and go on with life.” He bent to her again, trying to make her meet his eyes. “That doesn’t surprise you, does it?” She made no sign. He leaned across the arm of her chair. “J saw what it meant,” he tri- umphed, “before we got back to England. Didn’t you? Come—confess!”’ “T—wasn’t sure.” “Not sure!” He dropped from the un- charted uplands of woman’s outlook to the sure level of his man’s faith. “You are the only person I’ve ever known that I didn’t want to hide myself from. I felt disturbed enough when I found I wasn’t succeeding in hiding from you. You came into all the secretest places. And then I saw it was your right. You belonged there. You felt that “I’m not listening to the sense—if it zs sense.” She smiled dreamily out of heavy- lidded eyes. “I’m only listening to the sound. I never heard asound so beautiful.” He smiled, too, in a detached way at the ceiling, as he settled his head against the back of her chair. He stretched out his long limbs. In the same even tone, he went on: “Your mind was at home with me, just as my body is at home here. And yours is at home at Nancarrow. Then I saw that what I thought was life had been half a life. I didn’t even know I’d been lonely— till I knew you. Loneliness—the ache of incompleteness that I thought was part of living—I found it was all gone the moment I was alone with you.” He turned a little and his lips brushed a tendril of her hair. She linked her fingers and stood up very straight—not hurriedly or nervously but with a kind of solemnity, like one who has remembered something of huge, of over- shadowing significance—almost as if the remembered something were nothing less than the wonder of life, a sudden envis- agement of that mystery of individual fate, on which the world’s history turns. But no word of any such matter. Only, “How quiet the house is!” and then, with lifted eyes. “I should think so! Look at the clock!” He didn’t look at the clock—didn’t move. He had no need to remind her. . “You and I, the only onés awake in all this soundless house! We’ve never been ‘alone’ to this extent before.”’ He raised his head to find her eyes, not on the clock—on him. A look that brought him to his feet. He checked himself with, “Steady!” That echo of Alice’s penny whistle, shrill to the inner ear, through all these surging harmonies—the Hymn of Life played by the master musician upon thrilling pulses She, too, seemed determined to break the spell. The interlaced fingers were drawn chest-high and pressed there as if to force out unwilling words. “Tt may be true what you’ve been say- ing. If we were both Americans, it mig’t do—just to think only of you and me. But by and by you'll be thinking about those others. The only difference between us is —I think of them now.” f 138 = | | if | for Him # | | 4 | | | | | Address 4 Dealer's Name & Addre | = |
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Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 139 FIRE! WITH A SCREAM I SNATCHED LITTLE RUTH We scarcely had time to move, the fire spread so fast. But Pyrene was quicker than gasoline fire. It stopped the blaze before any damage was done. . “ John,”’ said I, as we drove on, “wasn’t it thoughtful of eon to get those Pyrenes for our car and home!”’ “If I hadn’t and you or Ruth had been hurt in that fire,’’ he replied, ‘‘I could never look you in the face again.”’ $10 buys Pyrene and bracket. Pyrene makes your car perfectly safe against the danger of quick spreading gasoline fire. It keeps women and children from being trapped in burning homes, too. Pyrene Manufacturing Company,.New York City Fire Extinguishers, Hose, Engines, all fire appliances SAVES LIFE _ ee | | M4 SS f — | j \ KILLS FIRE ¢ SS ia
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"140 HE increased cost of high-grade materials makes it more impor- tant than ever that you rely quality trade-mark for the satisfaction you have a right to expect. Eight to ten dollars; reasons ably priced, value considered. 7 There’s a Florsheim dealer in every city showing the season’s correct styles. His name and booklet on request. The Florsheim Shoe Co. The Gothic— | Today’s most popular model— Look for name in AVOID THROAT ; TROUBLE free from dryness and irritation, and relieve soreness and kin ailments. Alsosweeten breath. Luden’s Yellow Sanitary Package 5c as usual MENTHOL CANDY: COUGH DROPS Well, she had done it! The penny tune had stilled the greater music and whistled | them home from the clouds. Their feet were planted firm upon the earth again. “Suppose,” he said, “suppose I promise | that, until you want me to, I won’t give /up Nancarrow or let my mother. Will that content you?” She answered provokingly, irrelevantly ‘that it would be “terrible to bring un- happiness there”—and she must say good- night. Down out of the clouds? They were flat on their faces. “You can hardly suppose,” he said, with a touch of bitterness, “that you know what would make me happy better than I do.” At Camilla’s movement toward the door, the sudden flash in him went out as quickly as it flamed. Standing there, in the middle of the room, he held out a hand. “Oh, be kind to me, Camilla!” “Kind to you?” He saw she was trembling as she half turned to face him. Still he stood there— as firm as one of his own young oaks, never expecting the quick reward that met his hard-won mastery. For the most un- demonstrative of women came _ back, came closer, lifted her face, and kissed him on the mouth. He caught her to him, and she closed her eyes with head fallen back- ward in a faintness of rapture. The unconquerable impulse which had carried her off her feet was for him sheer miracle. “Again, again!” he whispered, as he brought her face against his. The slim body felt like a child’s in his arms, till that sense vanished, too, in the headlong feeling of being fused in one common fire. “Again! Again! Kiss me like that again!” Whether at the hot words, or some half- unconscious movement on his part, or the flame in her touched by some alien breath, it went out and left a shivering behind. Suddenly, almost violently, she freed herself. ““Go, please!’ she said. There was some- thing about her that gave Nancarrow the oddest feeling of never having seen her before. “If you don’t go now—this moment”—she caught her breath—“I—I’ll never forgive myself for bringing you here to-night.” ‘What is it? What’s the matter?” he said bewildered. As she didn’t answer, “You are loving me, Camilla?” “T’ll love you when you are gone.” As he passed, he bent to kiss her hands. With an action that struck him as childish she put her hands behind her. He smiled and went out into the hall. Would she come after him? No sound. Not till he opened the front door and faced the windy dark did he remember he had left his hat by the fire. He turned to go back and changed his mind. He went out bareheaded and shut the door behind him with a bang that stirred the echoes. A moment he stood on the step, waiting, listening. Then the message he stayed for seemed by some wireless way to reach him. Smiling all to himself, he walked up the street. VIII A DIFFERENT NANCARROW CaMILLa spent the following day with her sister, lunching with her at the Ritz, looking about in “dear little Bond Street, ” as Mrs. Plumstead-Atherley called it, for Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 “the few-things you can’t get so good in Paris.” These appeared to be chiefly travelers’ accessories. When they had chosen a new dressing-bag, a recently invented wardrobe-trunk, and a fur rug for the imminent Atlantic crossing, the sisters relaxed over tea at Rumpelmeyer’s, They were to dine at Queen Anne’s Gate, and Michael was to be there on the express understanding that nothing should be said just yet to point the fact that he was more than any other friend. Michael didn’t like the condition. “Why don’t you tell your sister?” “Because,” Camilla smiled, “I don’t believe it myself. “There’s a cure for that,” he said; “it grows at Nancarrow.” Michael did his best that night at dinner, but when he had gone, Mrs. Plumstead-Atherley, big and handsome and smiling, went over to her younger sister and kissed her. “T’m so glad, my dear! He is charming.” Camilla had the grace to flush a little. “Oh, you’re always—thinking things She wouldn’t “talk comfortably” about Mr. Nancarrow, and still she seemed to cling to her sister as she had not now for ears. “Send for your things. you sail.” Was it worth while only for two days? “Two days is better than nothing,” Camilla said. “Better for what? Better than leaving the coast clear for that delightful man?” But Camilla had her way. The two sisters were going out after break- fast. Camilla, dressed for walking, sat at her writing-table dealing with the morning’s letters. The door of the tapestry-room opened and Nancarrow was shown in. a had to come. I’ve heard from my mother.” “So soon!” Camilla’ s heart shrank. He laid a telegram down before her. Over and over she read it, too incredulous at first to rejoice. “Why does she like it now when she hated it two days ago?” “She never hated it—not really. She liked you from the first. Look here: This is what I’m answering: ‘Very happy over your message. Bringing Camilla to-mor- row. Love from Michael.’”’ She drew a shaking pencil through “to-morrow” and wrote “soon.” He put Stay here till The next morning brought Mrs. Nan- carrow’s letter to Queen Anne’s Gate. Dignified, brief, but adequate—welcoming Camilla as a daughter. It was very per- plexing. By dint of a newly conceived necessity to go to Liverpool to see her sister off to America, the return to Nancarrow was postponed. But only a day. For the delightful man came to Liverpool, too, and assisted in the seeing-off. After which, he carried Camilla on to Cumberland. Certainly, from the beginning it was far easier than she could have dreamed. They know how to do these things, she said to herself, feeling that these people had found the exact mean between formality and effusiveness. As she and Michael drove up, the great iron-studded doors opened, and the butler gave way to his mistress. Mrs. Nancarrow, in her rough-hewn dignity, stood there, with | | | | | | | | | | | | Chicago, U. S. A. — | | | 7 | | | in “very.” aif ) Oy Give Quick
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Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 141 Play Billiards! Keep the Home Fires Burning Carom and Pocket Billiards are an all-year sport -brimful of fresh surprises every game! This is not forced exercise, but healthful fun; and it brings to play ers life-long benefits. Shared by boys and girls, and mothers and “old boys”—billiards instils the love of home in all. With practice you can soon control the balls, but not the merry flow of jest that often makes the best of players lose. Give your home Carom and Pocket Billiards—not “some-time,”” but NOW—+this Christmas. A small part payment puts a scientific Brunswick Table in your home. Pay the balance monthly—as you play. HOME BILLIARD TABLES Life, speed, accuracy and lightning action—beautiful cabinet work in rosewood, For Billiard mahogany, oak and walnut. Brunswick ‘Quick Demountable” Tables fit all size Book FREE rooms, and are easily folded when not in play. “Baby Grand” home-size regulation styles for spare-rooms, lofts, basements, or private billiard rooms. Balls, Cues, Rack, Markers, T ps, Cue-Clamps, expert Send book of 33 games, etc., all included free. a E, RRUNSWICK- RALKE-(OLLENDER Write at once for handsome color-book——“Billiards—The Home Magnet” B B and pick out the size and style best fitted to your home. Dept. 59B, 623-633 S. Wabash Avenue “ Chi il. Low prices, easy terms and home trial offer included. Rend tee books— Mail the coupon for this interesting book at once. A “BILLIARDS—The Home Magnet” and tell me about your home trial offer. THE BRUNSWICK- RALKE-COLLENDER a Name Dept. 59B, 623-633 S. Wabash Avenue, Chicago = Dealers, Write for Attractive Agency Proposition 4 Address ‘ Your Address |
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Platinum top_Cluste:, 12 fnell Diamonds, Sapphir BOSTO i) PENCIL POIN aN Alice at her back. Michael jumped out and kissed his mother. No speech, just the eloquence of his quick turn and the touch of his hand on Camilla’s arm, giving her to his mother’s grave embrace. “My dear!’’ was all she said, but Camilla had no feeling that it was not enough. Alice, who had come back the day before, fell upon her with hugging and laughter and gay words, and all the hall behind those two at the door was full of Nancarrows, big and little, smiling and holding out hands and lifting bright country cheeks to be kissed. “She’s tired,’ Michael said, “and cold. She must have tea up-stairs and rest till dinner.” It was like another world.- Camilla sighed happily as she lay down on the sofa drawn in front of the bedroom fire. “Well?” he said, standing and looking down at her that night after dinner. He and Tony and Mr. Croft had sat at the table only a few minutes after the ladies went to the drawing-room. When he and Tony came in, Michael found Camilla in a little chair at his mother’s side, with the girls in a group around them. “Come and talk to me,” he said. He carried her over to the little sofa under the Hoppner ancestress. “Well?” “Tt’s like a dream. Do they really mean it, do you think?” “Mean what, my darling?” “All this—kindness and warmth.” He laughed. “Of course they mean it, unbeliever!’’ Then that low, delicious music. ‘‘How could they help loving you?” It struck Camilla with curious force that, even on this first evening at home, Michael should regard himself as belonging to the family rather than to his betrothed alone. She found the English way less embarrassing than the American. It left without undue emphasis the engaged state. An American, in Michael’s place, would have carried the lady off to the library or hall, and been astonished, not to say injured, at any intrusion on their privacy. Michael did not even seem to think his mother’s evening game of bridge need be intermitted. They sat down to a rubber. Mrs. Nancarrow already knew that Camilla was no great adept. But this was the first time she pointed out errors of judg- ment—“treating me just as she does. Alice,” was Camilla’s inward comment. She received the instruction with meekness. Mrs. Nancarrow unbent. “Tf you cared about it, you’d play a quite good game.” “Must I care?”’ Camilla asked, smiling. “Tt isn’t a bad plan to do a thing well that you are called on to do often.” Camilla resolved to send for a book on bridge. She would astonish this old lady with her proficiency. During dinner, Camilla had broken the slender chain she was wearing. Tony only now noticed the two ends hanging loose. “Let me mend it for you. Mayn’t I?” “Will you?” “T’d love to.” “But can you?” “You'll soon see.” He carried the chain off to find some pincers. At the end of the short evening, “Did you like my flowers?” Blanche asked, after a little scuffle over who should have Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 “They the lighting of Camilla’s candle. were out of my garden.” “You need not get up to breakfast if you are tired in the morning.” Mrs. Nancarrow’s brood exchanged sly glances at an indulgence without precedent. Camilla made her thanks, but she would prefer to come down. She was kissed at the foot of the stairs, shook Michael’s hand over the banister, and went up with a tail of young people to see her to her room. Alice came running and drove them out. “T’m not going to stay but two seconds; Michael is very firm about it.” If the rest of the family gave her warmth, Alice gave her light. “They’ve always liked you. Mother’s done her duty in register- ing a protest against the only thing there ever was against you. Having done that, she’s free now to——”’ “To what?” “Why, to think only about Michael’s happiness.” “T’m exactly what I was last week.” “That’s where you’re clean off the track,” said Alice, with her schoolboyish emphasis. “You’re a totally different person.” She met Camilla’s lifted eyes with, ““You’re one of us now.” She put her arms about her friend and kissed her with an emotion unusual with Alice. Then she flicked her handkerchief across her blue eyes and recovered her jauntiness. “T wouldn’t be -too set up about it if I were you,” she said wickedly; “they’d be nice to a black if Michael insisted on marrying one.” All the same, very soothing, more than a little intoxicating, this magical change in people. It extended far beyond the borders of Nancarrow. Those four lines in the Morning Post had transformed the face of the world: An engagement is announced between Michael Everard Nancarrow, second son of the late Col. an Howard Nancarrow, K.C.S.1., K.C.M.G., and of Mrs. Nancar- row, of Nancarrow, to Mrs. Leroy Hunter Trenholme, of New York. Other papers made more of it. The Tatler published photographs of the con- tracting parties, views of ‘Nancarrow Hall, and of Michael Nancarrow at the meet. Country Life had pictures of both, and a fresh series of Nancarrow views. The frontispiece was a full-page enlargement of a snap-shot showing Mrs. Leroy ‘Tren- holme in a boat on a lake. This was handed round, to Camilla’s discomfiture.. Mrs. Nancarrow glanced at the page and put the paper down. ‘ “You could have given them a better® picture than that,” she said, “if you’ wanted a private photograph to. appear in the public prints.” “But I didn’t want—” Camilla stopped, a little daunted by the look + on the old woman’s face. “You don’t think she gave this to the paper?” Michael said. “‘How did they get it, then?” “T have no idea,” Camilla assured her. “You mustn’t please think I give my picture to newspapers.” “Oh, really? I understood that Amer- icans look at these things differently—” She broke off still with that air of offended taste, and went into the garden with Nellie and the children. Michael’s eyes were on Alice. He leaned forward. “You gave them that picture,” he said. 142 | | | 3 2.7 a £0 “e, 2 | 4 assure you asteady advance in value on any diamond y 732% Profit aking this assortment of high grade diamond jewelry; rings, pins, lavallieres, and other articles that make most accept- | ‘1 ' Beeston Saves Time & Pencils OSTON SPEC he 2¢ roadw N
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Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 Don't Wish for Health — Get It—and Keep It There is no royal road to health. But if you will take the precaution to assure yourself regularity of bowel action, you will have overcome one of the chief causes of ill health—constipation. Nujol will cleanse your system without upsetting it. Itrelieves constipation with- out distress, gently, and surely—removes the waste matter which aggravates any tendency to chronic disease. A bottle of Nujol in your medicine chest or your traveling bag is an assurance that you can restore your bowels to normal activity whenever they need restoration. Sold only in bottles bear- Send 75c. and we will ing the Nujol trade-mark ship to soldiers or sailors —never in bulk. anywhere. At all drug stores. REG. U.S. PAT. F for Constipation STANDARD OIL COMPANY ew Bayonne ew Jersey Nujol 143 Nujol alt For Constipati oS / Nujol | fi 4 -
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They’ve only taken the poor lamb on trial, and he’s afraid they won’t keep him.” Michael’s face was hard as flint as he retorted, “Well, don’t in future help him at Camilla’s expense.” He swung out of the room with long strides that quickly caught up his mother. When he came back, Camilla was alone. “A penny—”’ She raised her head. “J am sorry your mother thought——”’ “She doesn’t think. I’ve taken care she doesn’t.” At such a time, she had only to be five minutes with Michael to recover her new happiness. There was something heavenly comfort- ing as well as stimulating about the Michael of these days. He gave her a sense of magical safety, of the shelter of thick walls like those of his ancestral home. A power to commandeer kindness, dignity —a power to shut out the carping, sour- faced world. She repeated to herself, “A magical safety!” After the shower of telegrams, letters, and, after the letters, the wedding gifts came pouring in, forwarded from Queen Anne’s Gate. “T had no idea you had so many friends,” Michael laughed. “Neither had I,” said Camilla. In a thousand subtle ways, during the days that followed, she was made to feel the difference between being the un- sponsored stranger, object of curiosity and exploitation, neither maid, wife, nor widow, and being the affianced bride of one of the Nancarrows of Nancarrow. The heart of her gratitude was the prayer that she might be worthy of Michael. “Tf only I was cleverer,” she said to him. “Don’t expect me to understand of myself. You'll have to show me—to explain all sorts of things.” But she was less enlightened than bewildered by matters that were common- place to him. His sitting-room was an example. It seemed to her more like a comfortable, rather cluttered office, with its great writing-table, the safe, the estate and county maps on the walls, the ledgers and account-books. “Felton Castle Estate” she read on one of the japanned deed- boxes. Yes; he was administrator of more than one estate. He was guardian for an orphan cousin. It was not unnatural to discover that he was member of every sort of sports committee. But he was also justice of the peace. Michael! She laughed at that— he couldn’t think why. “Politician, too!” She stood in front of the drawer bearing for its label the name of the Parliamentary division. “Very little of a politician,” he assured her; but he had to “hold up our end in the county.” He managed to do that, she gathered, in spite of refusing to stand for Parliament or to hold any prominent official position. Oh, perhaps he chose the men who did these things? Well, that was more or less part of the Nancarrow | job. What he really cared about was the land. He’d go out of his way to promote Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 the agricultural interests, “not of the Nancarrow farms merely but of the dis- trict. He appeared to do his promoting partly by means of meetings, partly by keeping a sort of informal bureau of in- formation—by correspondence as well as by example— What didn’t this gentleman of leisure do! She had said, after her first perplexed glance round, “Anyone would think you were a busi- ness man!” “Well, I suppose, in a sort of a way, I am a man of business. I ought to be.” “But you never look busy.” Never driven. No; he drove. “Tt does bewilder me—all this.” “Why should it? Your father, your men in general in America——” “Yes; they do these things, I suppose.” She was thinking it out. “They do some of these things and I dare say some others, but’”— she puckered her brows in an effort to get the matter clear— “they don’t do them under oureyes. They don’t do them at home. That’s it. In America, a man who has all this business would have an office—or a whole building full of offices.” Her gravity gave way to smiling as she looked round. “Oh, it’s all mighty strange! And you expect me to_ get the hang of it all in a week?” “No, no! Hang it all—this minute— that’s what I want. It’s a terrible long time since I had you a minute to myself.” “Sh!” She drew away. “Now, why do you do that?” “T believe there’s somebody in there.” She pointed to a door. “Of course. Packard.” “Who is Packard?” ; “My secretary. He won’t dream of coming in unless I call him.” But she had slipped out of his hold and was walking about. “That’s how you do it! Where does he live—your Packard?” “‘Live?’ In the cottage beyond the church with his sister. She teaches in the school. Why did you want to know?” “Only that it seems strange, somehow, that I didn’t know—that I’ve never seen him.” She left it. “So this is where you come when you disappear for hours?” “Only on certain days. To see the bailiff and sometimes a discontented tenant or two. Somebody has to do these things’””— he half apologized. And again, as she seemed in her grave way to be trying to take it all in, he said she wasn’t to bother herhead. He overtook her at the window. Standing there, in the morning sunshine, with his arm about her, he told her that if she wanted to know her most immediate and pressing share in the affairs of Nan- carrow, he would tell her. Click-click! behind the door, the secre- tary’s typewriter played its staccato accompaniment to Michael’s confession: how glad it made him to see the way she got on with the family. He had known she would, but he hadn’t been prepared for such a quick conquest of his mother. As a rule, it took “a goodish while.” “But you, I can see,” he triumphed, “you are going to be the daughter-in-law she cares most about. “You’d like that?” Camilla turned a quick look up into his face. He bent to kiss her. , She slipped out of his hold. ‘“Pack- ard!’ “Packard be hanged! I’ll go and throw Packard out of the window if it’ll make 144 => : : as A : *
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>. oe 2 UAINT and curious—the kind you can- not get else- where—for men, women and children, are beautifully illustrated (many in actual colors) and accurately described in this fascinating “Book of a Thousand Gifts’ which is mailed post- Paid on request. WRITE FOR YOUR FREE COPY See what ‘‘delightfully different’’ gifts may be obtained by mail at Vantine’s for a few cents or a few dollars. Send now, the edi- tion is limited. Your name and address on a postal willdo. Address Dept. 20. Vantine’s Gift Suggestions Order by mail any of the following with Vantine’s assurance of satisfaction or the prompt refund of the purchase price. copy of our catalog will be included with your order. No, 15247B—Cylindrical-shaped No.7933B—Japanese inlaid wood Oriental box, artistically deco- cigarette, cigar or trinket box rated, containing 3 triangular- with pretty design inlaid with shaped glass-stoppered bottles of colored woods. Box can only be Vantine’s fragrant Orient per- opened by pressing secret slide fumery,each odor dif- ide, size 2 5 ferent. Price prepaid B1.00 price 81.00 No, 18195B—Men or women’s imported Japanese sii; pers of cenuine monkey skin, white or spotted rabbit and marten. Fur-lined, strong one-piece leather sole, warm comfortable slippers for indoor wear or when orderec in a larger size, may be used as over-shoes for wear when motoring in co'd weather. (In ordering state size of rv. shoes or over-shoes worn and fur desired.) Price prepaid $4. iv No. 9966B Japanese foot warmer for keeping the feet warm when motoring, etc., incold weather. Ideal for warming tents and may be used in trenches. Made of heavy reinforced tin covered with velvet, burns a blazeless,smokeless,odorless fuel,one tube of which a4 will burn from 6t010 hours. Price including 2 fuel tubes 1.70 No, 7922B— Wooden field gun and awmunition. ooden ‘she Fifth Avenue & 39th Street. New York > = = An Excellent Tonic for Ladies’ and Gentiemen’s Hair BALDPATE Registered in U. S. and Canada HAIR TONIC NEVER FAILS Nourishes and strengthens the fol- liclesand thus promotes the growth of the hair. Relieves the scalp of unhealthy accumulations and secretions. Gives a rich gloss, is highly perfumed and free from oil. Makes the hair light and fluffy. If your dealer cannot supply you, send $1.00 Send 10c for Trial Size Applications obtained at the better barber shops. BALDPATE CO., NEW YORK 467 West 34th Street, Dept. C SOLD EVERYWHERE you any easier.”’ Then, in that low voice that enveloped her like sunshine, he talked about their plan. In this odd England, it appeared you might be married by license or by certificate. If by license, one of them, according to Michael, would have to be resident for fifteen days preceding the marriage in the district where it’s performed. If by certificate, each of them would have to live for seven days in the district—— Camilla listened with an eye on the door. Need they decide now—couldn’t they wait a little? Why did she want to wait? “Why, to—to understand all this a little, before—you can’t think how differ- ent it is from anything I’ve known well.” She looked at him with great gentleness. “Please—you mustn’t hurry me, Michael dear.” When she called him ‘Michael dear,” what wouldn’t he do for her? He longed to tell her that the mystifica- tion was not all her own. It was not only the definite fixing of the date for the wedding that she sheered away from. That might be only part of the traditional feminine attitude—though it surprised him to find the candid Camilla adopting it. Already, Michael's mystification had deepened on occasion to a sense of.injury. He had been more accustomed—oh, much more accustomed—himself to do the evad- ing of demonstrations of affection. On Camilla’s part, what did this shrink- ing from contacts mean? Was it, as Alice had once said, “American”? Camilla stood now, during the brief renewal of the wedding-day discussion, a figure exquisite, desirable, yet with that teasing suggestion of the elusive, saying, “Aren’t you happy like this? J haven’t been so happy for years.” “Dear! You are an angel to tell me that. I should be happy too—quite happy enough to go on ‘like this,’ as you say, for—well, for a few weeks—”’ She laughed the happiest laugh he had heard from her. “Ves; I could be happy enough to go on like this for a few weeks, if you—if you—” He came closer. ‘‘Packard!” she ejacu- lated. The click-click had stopped. “You know, ‘you'll make me murder Packard!” But the incentive to crime had fled out of the room. After that, Michael would tell her, in their none too frequent moments alone, that she wasn’t to begin ‘Packardizing.”’ His instinct was, as long as possible, to keep an essentially delicate subject in the safe region of the semi-humorous. He mustn’t, as Camilla had warned him, he mustn’t hurry her. ‘Apart from secret assurances of his own that helped him to patience, he had only to look at the supple, responsive body, the mouth, not full-lipped but curved for passion’s uses, to feel this was none of your bloodless women. And always for crowning evidence he went back to that night in the tapestry- room when she had kissed him first and set his senses in a flame. Her own, too. He could see her now with that look of com- punction—you’d almost say of guilt—on her face—crying: ‘Go! If you don’t go now, I shall be sorry I let you in.””. What- | ever evidence she might later present to Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 the contrary, she would never convince Michael there wasn’t fire somewhere under that mantle of snow. Once he burst out with: “Why are you so afraid to let yourself go? Do let yourself go!” She pretended she didn’t understand. As to other matters of adaptation, though he had said to her, in all good faith, that she wasn’t to bother her head, he was both amused and touched to find her taking with that childlike seriousness the matter of preparation for her part in the life here. Alice declined to be the least touched. What Michael loved as a quality personal to Camilla was merely “American.” “I’m told you have classes to teach peo- ple how to make the kitchen fire, and you call it ‘domestic economy.’ You have classes to teach you how to be a citizen. And I hear you ¢each patriotism in all your schools. You’re a quaint people.” When they were alone, Michael half jokingly apologized for Alice. “Oh, I didn’t mind that!” “What do you mind, dearest?” His sudden seriousness at ieast equaled Camilla’s own. “Tt can’t be helped,” she said. “But I’m sure it can!” She shook her head. “T’m often thinking it these days. The pity of it is I’m not cleverer. I never cared before.”’ Michael’s relief was immensé and joyous. She was already far too clever for him. And the only thing that gave him courage was the adorable way her chin poked out. Yes; that, and the dis- tracting little love-lock onthe back of her neck. Might he? Oh, well, if he mightn’t, then perhaps she’d just tell him one or two more of these things she found so “differ- ent” in England things, that needed all this “getting used to.”’ “Well, everything here surprises me,’’ she brought out. ‘‘The things you lavish and the things you hoard—’’ She was evidently going on with a list had he not jumped down her throat with: “* Hoard!’ What do we hoard?” “Fruit,” she answered promptly. ‘‘Alice will say, ‘Have a peach with me?’ A piece of peach!” With faintly twitching lips, Michael considered. “Aren’t ours bigger, perhaps?”’ Oh, he was miles from understanding your true fruit-lover’s capacity! “We girls at home used to sit two in a hammock. The peach tree’s as far as to that wall. Under it, a wash-basket full of peaches just gathered. We’d swing out and each catch up a peach and while we ate it we'd let the cat die. Then we'd swing out for another, and so on for the best of the afternoon.” “Pigs!” “Not at all! We don’t eat slabs of beef and mutton, and we don’t drink wine.” “No? I’ve seen two little squinny Americans punish a magnum of cham- pagne.” “T can only tell you,” she said, with tragic solemnity, “I learn something new here every day.” She stared at him as Michael, “for no earthly reason,’ dissolved in a gale of laughter. The next instalment of Camilla will appear in January Cosmopolitan. 146 | Gifts! WR a | i — | 33 | | | | cap which explodes emoks to issue trom i} f cap : Price, complete, prepaid 1.25 } | | | al |
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147 devis HAT an opportunity this year is yours! All the musi- cians of the world, waiting, eager to be admitted to your home, to furnish joy for you and yours on Christmas Day and through the days to come. Great masters of the violin— magicians of the bow and wistful strings—standing ready, _ instru- ments in hand, to do your bidding. Leaders of world-famous orches- tras and bands, with batons poised, asking only your assent to fill your home with surging waves of glorious sound. Herald this instrument mans has come to your home this vistmas The mighty host of all the world’s best singers standing at your door, and only waiting your behest to enter and pour forth the beauty that is theirs for you and yours. Let the Aeolian-Vocalion—great- est of phonographs—come to your home, this Christmas. New and Distinctive Features The Aecolian-Vocalion sums up all the features possessed by the higher grades of phonographs. Its makers, The Aeolian Company, in producing it po two marked advantages; they could profit by the pioneer work already done by others, and they had their own invaluable expe- rience in building musical instruments of the finest and costliest types to draw upon. With the extraordinary equipment in personnel and machinery for production which this Company possessed, as the,,; “largest manufacturers of musical instru- ments in the world,” its success in improving on existing phonographs was natural. Even such an achievement, however, was not the limit of what The Aeolian Company accomplished in producing the Aeolian- Vocalion. For in its revolutionary feature —the Graduola—there is offered for the first time in a phonograph the means for Artistic Tone-Control The indifference phonograph owners often come to feel for even their best records may be charged to the lack of spontaniety, variations due to momentary inspiration and moods in phonographic reproductions. The device known as the Graduola, which is an exclusive feature of the Aeolian- Vocalion, makes good this deficiency so marked in the music of other phonographs. It isa simple and wholly artistic means for imparting additional expression to records. Practically without experience, anyone may play a record and by using this device, modify, color and shade the music until it becomes an individual expression of the player's own feelings. The value of the Graduola in giving ad- ditional “‘life’’ to records and keeping them fresh in interest, and the fascination of exercising this control, are beyond descrip- tion. As has been said by more than one eminent musician, ‘the invention of the Graduola is second in importance only to —oe invention of the phonograph itself.” Reality of Tone As a reproducing medium for different kinds of instruments and voices, the phonograph, naturally, should have no tone of its own. And The Aeolian Company has brought the Voca- lion remarkably close to this ideal. It is immediately obvious to every hearer of this instrument, that the Vocalion constitutes a great step in advance in securing tonal realism. Its repro- ductions are fuller, richer and deeper. There is far less stridency and mechanical noise. And the dis- tinctive qualities of voices and different instruments are represented with astounding fidelity. All Records Available All the musical performances recorded—all of the artists—are available to the Vocalion owner, as the Vocalion plays all types of records. Adjustment for different kinds of records is secured not by a sub- stitution of parts, but by a simple change in the posi- tion of the Sound Box or Reproducer. Beautiful Cases Richer case-woods, better finishes and finer lines distinguish all the cases of the Aeolian-Vocalion. Both in its “regular’’ models and in its wide variety of “art” designs, this instrument sets a standard unmistakably in advance of others. Regular models priced from $100 to $350. Models without Graduola, $35 to $75. Art Styles at mod- erate cost. Interesting catalogue upon... request. Address 29 W. 42d St., New York, Dept. A-12. THE AEOLIAN CO. PARIS—29 W. 42nd ST., NEW YORK—LONDON Metropolitan Stores: Brooklyn, 11 Flatbush Avenue— Newark, 897 Broad St.—Bronx, 367 E. 149th St. AEOLIAN BRANCHES Chicago, 116 S. Mich. Blod.—Cincinnati, 25 W. Fourth St.—St. Louis, 1004 Olive St.—Rochester, 38 E. Ave.-—Dayton, 114 N. Main St. Indianapolis, 237 N. Penna. St. Representatives in all principal cities of the world In Canada: Nordheimer Piano & Music Co., Lid., Toronto Cosmopolitan for December, | ] “aq | = me 4 4 Y |
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It’s Not Too Late To learn the “Baird-North Way” Look up the Baird-Nortb cata- logue in your home. Run through its pages with your Christmas list before you. You will find many articles that will please every person to whom you should make a gift. If you haven't a catalogue yourself, some neighbor nearby must have one. Just say to her ‘* May I borrow your Baird-North catalogue ?” Or perhaps you may find what you want among our advertisements which have been appearing in all the leading magazines—each one containing a differ- ent assortment of articles. Tf time is close, send us the money wish to pay for your gift by mail or wire and describe just what you would like. We will send the best article that your amount of mioney will buy. Our liberal guarantee of exchange or refand protects you from any loss. ‘ The Baird-North Co. is an institution founded on quick service, low price and abso- lute fairness. The “ Baird-North Way” is aconvenient, economical and pleasant way to do your Christmas Shopping. - Send for our catalogue,— or order from the one which you have or can borrow. Wish- Brooch Every article is uaranteed satisfy you or wef Ss will refund your money. § Ww" We guarantee free, safe and prompt delivery. ( A non-intoxicating Food beverage of the agreeable and satisfying type. NON-INTOXICATING Ale No Government License Required Sharpens the appetite, refreshens the body and soothes the stomach—Helps to build bone and brawn—Fine for home enjoyment and hospitality. Up-to-date Grocers, Druggists and Dealers C. H. EVANS & SONS Estab. 1786 Hudson, N. Y. The intensely, consciously, deeply interested and profoundly curious.” He could hear her laughing. “Curious about what?’’ he demanded. “About your state of mind, Jim. The situation was such a novelty, too. I was trying to comprehend it—trying to con- sider what a girl should do in such a curious emergency.” “**Emergency?’”’ he repeated. “Certainly. Do you fancy I’m ac- ' customed to such novelties as you intro- duced me to last night?” “What do you think about them now?” “T’m slightly ashamed of us both. We were rather silly, you know x ““Reassure yourself, Steve. most circumspect and emotionless “Jim! That is brutal and untrue! I was not circumspect!’ “You were the other, then.” ““What a perfectly cruel and outrageous slander! You’ve made me unhappy now. And all day I’ve been so absolutely happy in thinking of what happened.” “Ts that true?” he asked, in an altered voice. “Of course it’s true!” “You just said you were ashamed——” “T was—very, very slightly; but I’ve been too happy to be very much ashamed!” “You darling!” “Oh! The gentleman bestows praise! Such a kind gentleman to perceive merit and confer his distinguished approval. Any girl ought to endeavor to earn further marks of consideration and applause from so gracious a gentleman ‘i “Steve, you tormenting little wretch, can’t you be serious with me?” “T am,” she said, laughing. ‘Tell me what you’ve been doing to-day?” “Hunting for lodgings. What have you been doing?”’ “Watching Helen make a study of a horse out in the covered court. Then we had tea. Then Oswald dropped in and played the piano divinely, as he always does. Then Helen and I started to dress for dinner. Then you called me up. Where did you look for lodgings?” You were ” “Oh, I went to about all the studio- ” buildings ‘“‘Aren’t you going to open the house?”’ ““No; it’s too lonely.” “Yes,” she said; ‘it would be too lonely. You and I couldn’t very well live | there unless we had an older woman.”’ No.” “So it’s better not to open it until’’— she laughed gaily—‘‘ you marry some nice girl. Then it will be safe enough for me to call on the Cleland family, I fancy. | Won’t it, Jim?” | “Quite,” he replied dryly. when I marry that nice girl, you won’t have far | to go when you call on the Cleland family.” “Oh, how kind! You mean to board me, Jim?” | “You know what I do mean,” he said. | “TIT wonder! Is it really a declaration of | serious and respectable intentions. But | you're quite safe. And I’m afraid you | know it. Tell me: Did you find an apart- /ment to suit you?” | No.” “Why not come here? There’s a studio | and apartment which will be free May first. Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 Restless Sex (Continued from page 77 Oh, Jim, please take it! If you say so, I’ll telephone the agent now!” “Do you want me, Steve? in spite of everything?” “Want you!” He heard her happy, scornful laughter. Then: ‘‘We’re dining out, Jim; but come to-morrow. I'll telephone now that you'll take the studio. May I, Jim, dear?” “Yes,” he said; ‘and I'll come to you to-morrow.” “You angel boy! I wish I weren't going out to-night. Thank you, Jim dear, for making me happy again.” “Are you?” “TIndescribably. I don’t think you know what your kindness to me means. It makes a different person of me. It fills and thrills and inspires me——" “Steve?” Yes?” “Could I come in for a moment now?” “I’m dressing. Oh, Jim, I'm sorry, but I’m late as it is.” “All right; to-morrow, then.” he said, in a happy voice. Aiter—and He had been sitting in his room for an hour, thinking—letting his mind wander unchecked. If he were not really in love with Stephanie, how could a mere conver- sation over the wire with her give him such pleasure? “T believe I am in love,” he said aloud. He rose and paced the room in the dusk, questioning, considering his own un- certainty. For the “novelty ”’— as Stephanie called it—of last night’s fever had not been a novelty to her alone. Never before had he been so deeply moved, so swept off his feet, so regardless of a self-control habitual to him. Perhaps anger and jealousy had started it. But these ignoble emotions could not seem to account for the happiness that hearing her voice had just given him. “‘T believe,” he said aloud to himself, “that I’m falling very seriously in love with Steve. And if I am, it’s a rather desperate outlook. She seems to be in love with Grismer. I don’t know how to face such a thing. She’s married him, and she doesn’t live with him. She admits frankly that he fascinates her. There are women who never love. I seem to want her, anyway. I think I do. It’s a mess. Why, in God’s name, did she do such a thing if she wasn’t in love with him —or if she didn’t expect to be? Is she in love with him? She isn’t with me. I’m certainly drifting into love with Steve. Can I stop myself? I ought to be able to. Hadn’t I better?” He stood still, thinking, the street-lamps’ rays outside illuminating his room with a dull radiance. Presently he switched on the light, seated himself at the desk, and wrote: STEVE DEAR: I am falling in love with you very seriously and very deeply. I don’t know what to do about it. Jm. He was about to undress and retire late that night when a letter was slipped under his door: You sentimental and adorable boy! What is there todo? The happiest girl in New York, 148 = Ay == S= EI is io. . Pint of No. 588. Needle | | | | | | | : | safety — YOURE, rill! LT | + ct | | FF SHO wo
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Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 149 (HOU PONT AMERICAN INDUSTRIE The Gift IVORY PY-RA-LIN XQUISITE in its luxurious FE tones of purest ivory—be- yond expression in chaste- ness and delicacy. No other conceit of art or craft could give ‘‘Her’”’ such lasting pleasure as a toilet set of Ivory Py-ra-lin. It is the gift of gifts—useful, beautiful and dainty. Indeed it is more than a gift. It is a life long remembrance that will bring gladness into her heart every morning and evening for many years to come. The better stores show a generous assortment. Brochure upon request. E. |. DU PONT DE NEMOURS & COMPANY The Arlington Works 725 Broadway New York olf Supreme i Z | ‘ | \ | . | | | = — e* \ * | a 7 & } x ; SAAAAAN / \\\
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DIAMONDS GIFTS FRO OUR ‘CATALOG The Above Handsome Solid Gold La Valliere No. 925, is our big leader. Four beautiful perfect-cut % \ Genuine Diamonds Ss 2 $2.50 a Month Send d for Free come Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 very sleepy and quite ready for bed, bids you good-night, enchanted by your note. STEVE. XXIII To have returned after three years abroad and to have slipped back into the conventional life of the circle to which he had been accustomed in the city of his birth might not have been very easy for Cleland. To readjust himself among what was unfamiliar proved easier, perhaps. For his family circle existed no longer; the old servants were gone; the house had been closed for along time now. Among friends and acquaintances of his age there had been many changes, too--| much shifting and readjustment of groups! and circles incident to marriages and | deaths and the scattering migration ever in progress from New York. It was an effort for him to pick up the threads again; and he did not make the effort. It was much simpler to settle down here in these quiet, old-time streets within stone’s throw of the artists’ quarter of the city where Stephanie lived, where a few boyhood friends of artistic proclivi- ties had taken up quarters, where acquaint- | ances were easily made, easily avoided, and where the informalities of existence made life more easy, more direct, and, alas! much more irresponsible. Chelsea, with a conscious effort and a te hes, Clo jocks, To Toilet’ fully showy bled Sati Sets; our, wonder- Whatever you select will be sent, all shipping charges my ey You see and examine the article ht in own hands. ix satisfied, pay one-fifth of purchase pricoand keep it; bglance divided into eight equal amounts \\\ payable monthly. Every article is specially priced. Suggestions for Christmas Presents A few of the man ny desirable articles shown in our large hand- some Catalog. Every article listed below can be furnished at \ prices given and up to any price eng wish to pay. All are pop lar a> of ty tat value. We can fill any requirement. S for | Gifts for Men Diamond Rings, Solitaire . . $20.00 up Rings Loftis Diamond Rings, Round Bel- taire Diamond “ay . 50.00 cher 7-Diamond Cluster 5.00 up Diamond La Vallieres . 10.00 up| Diamond ins. u Diamond Scre + 10.00 up| Diamond Studs . 10.00 up Diamond Brooches 7.00 up | Diamond Cuff Links : : : 5S.00up Cameo La Val- Emblem Rings 7.00 up 12.00 Signet Rings, Diamond- set. 10.00 up Send for Catalog, make se- Diemend ‘Lockets: 10.00 up| Watches, solid gold 22.80u lections and have as many wen, pment ont, Watches, gold lied . . . .12.00up articles as you wish charged solid g . . 29.00 Wrist Watches 5 19.09 4 in one account. Watches, gold filled” . 13.50 up | Cuff Links, solid gold * Any diamond purchased from us | Wrist Watches, solid gold, . 26.50 up | Emblem Charms, solid gold” ° 500 aD for a present may be exchanged § Wrist Watches, gold lled «. 15.00 up | Cameo Scarf Pins, Diamond- for other selection at the full Watches, solid eee 9.50 up Price the recipientde- Bracelets, solid ~ 12.00 up | Cuff Link and Scarf Pinsets 6.00 up sire to do so later on. — this # Signet Rings, Diamond-set by +4 ~ 4 Coat Chains, solid gold . . 4.50up privilege you n have no§ Beads, solidgold , Waldemar Vest a, anxiety 4 choosing Beads, Diamond Ciasp solid gold - JEWEL © Our Catalog illustrates and describes all That’ will the new watches—15, 17, 19, 21, B jewels, ad- 2i Pass Railroad Inspection $2. 50 a Mont Justed. RT sizes for men and women, Choice of popular new designs. Our watches are guaranteed by the factory and further guaran‘ by us. National Credit Jewelers Dept. G-892 108 N. State St., Chicago, Ul. STORES IN LEADING CITIES 1855 Clear YourThroat Frokeys MILITARY F R E N Cc H CONVERSATION by the Military Languace-Pbone Method and Disc Rec- ords. A practical, short course for Military Service. Spauish, French, Italian, German by the “EARGUAGE - PHONE M METHOD . Linguistry 4 ae voice of a native professor pronounces the eign language, over and over, until you know it. Family and friends can use it, Our Disc Phonograph Records fit all talking machines. Write for Military circular. and Free Trial Offer. Easy payments, THE LANGUAGE-PHONE METHOD 915 Putnam Bidg. 2 W. 45th Street, N. Y¥. Quick Relief for Husky, Hoarse, Tickling Throats. 25c at all Drug Stores. Sample for two--ent stamp Frederick Stearns & Company, Detroit, U. S. A. Makers of NIP-A-CO laxative cold tablets SPANISH. FRENCH (TALIAN. GERMAN AN IDEAL XMAS GIFT BECOME A TRAFFic MANAGER: Over half a alton large shippers and all need trained ic Men, those who how to route shipments, obtain shortest mil cure hg deliveries, classif. goods, obtain where there are big positions and SHORTHAND AT HOME IN 30 DAYS ig S lari 7 T d M By the Boyd System, based on syllables, and entirely a ries or raine en New i - e which has revolutionized the Stenographic Prain NO W. We teach you by mail. Course dorsed by World. Easy, practical, speedy 150 words a minute large railroads an industrial shi fulide tails, guaranteed. Best for Court Reporting and Civil Service. bow you can qualify at sma —easy payments. Write now. Prepare for a government position—$90 ) to $1200 a year. Course in Touch Typewriting FREE. Send today for cataloz, Special Offer and Sample Lesson. Caica;0 Hone Study Schools, 502 Reaper BI.ck, Chicago, Ill. EXTENSION UNIVERSITY, Dept. 71255C Chicase “The World’s Greatest Extension Oniwversity’’ | lurking smirk, mirrored the Latin Quarter to the best of its ability. It did pretty well. There were more ex- aggerations, more eccentricities, less spon- taneity and less work in Chelsea than in the Latin Quarter. Too many of its nomadic denizens were playing a self- conscious part; too few of them possessed the intelligence and - training necessary for. self-expression in any creative pro- fession. Otherwise, they were as emo- tional, as casual, as unkempt, as vain, and as improvident as any rapin of the original Latin Quarter. Cleland met many of the elect even before he had settled down in his new studio-apartment on the top floor of the same building where Stephanie and Helen lived. “Washington Square bohemians are a harmless, friendly people,’ remarked Helen to Cleland, one morning late in May, | when he stopped on his way out to break- fast to watch her modeling a horse in clay. ‘‘They’re like actor folk; they live | in a world entirely self-created which | marvels at and admires and watches them; they pose for its benefit, playing as faith- fully as they know how their chosen réles -painter, writer, critic, sculptor, com- | poser. Nobody in the outside real and busy world notices them; but they think | they’re under incessant and envious ob- servation, and they strut happily through | the little painted comedy of life, living an unreal existence, dying undeceived. The real tragedy of it all they mercifully never suspect -the utter lack of interest in them taken by real people.’ She went on modeling, amused by her own analysis. “Where is Stephanie?” he inquired, after a slight pause. “Out somewhere with Oswald, I believe.” “Tt’s rather early.” “They sometimes get up early and breakfast together at Claremont,” re- apparently I \ ON CREDIT ‘Ss NATE Ven WAY ; \ VAN | a |
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Hammer Model with "Perfect" Rubber Grip, $8 75. THE GIFT OF PROTECTION Make home defence a reality by giving the man of the house a safe revolver for Christmas. The gift of an Iver Johnson Revolver is a gift of complete protection for your family. The Iver Johnson is the perfect weapon for home defence. It gets off the first shot because there is nothing to do but pull the trigger—no complicated safety buttons or levers to adjust —or forget. There is nothing to fear from an Iver Johnson for the man who owns one. It is the safe small firearm—you can “Hammer the Hammer.” It is accident-proof. At all sporting goods and hardware stores. Or send for FREE Booklet “A” telling all about Iver Johnson Revolvers and Shotguns. Iver Johnson’s Arms & Cycle Works, 129 River Street, Fitchburg, Mass. 99 Chambers Street, New York 717 Market Street, San Francisco 151 Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 a 3 \ ; fie cha, “A 4.46 y en = Hammerless Model with Regular Grip, $8.75. Hammer Model with "Western" Walnut Grip, $9.25.
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The freckled livery-stable lad who held the horse for her and occasionally backed him into the pose again continued to chew gum and watch the pretty sculptor with absorbed interest. “T’ve got such an interesting commis- sion,”’ she said, wetting down her clay with a huge and dripping sponge. ‘“‘It’s for the new Academy of Arts and Letters to be built up-town, and my equestrian figure is to be cast in silver-bronze for the great marble court.” “What is the subject?”’ he asked. “The subject? ‘Aspiration.’ I made some sketches—a winged horse taking flight upward. A nude female figure, breathless, with disheveled hair, has just flung itself upon the rearing, wide-winged Pegasus, and is sticking there like a cat to the back fence—hanging on tooth and nail with one Jeg just over and the other close against the beast’s ribs, and her desperate fingers in the horse’s mane. I don’t know. It sounds interesting, but it may be too violent. But I’ve had that idea—hope, aspiration, fear, and de- termination clinging to a furious winged animal that is just starting upward like a roaring sky-rocket—” She turned her head, laughing. ‘‘Is it a rotten idea?” “T don’t know,” he said absently. “Tt’s worth trying out, anyway.” She nodded; and he went on about the business of breakfast. But had now no appetite. There was one thing Cleland soon found out, against which he was _ helpless. Stephanie frequented Grismer at any hour of the day and evening that her fancy prompted. This perplexed him and made him sul- len; but when he incautiously started to remonstrate with her one evening, her surprise and anger flashed like a clear little flame, and she explained very clearly what was the essence of personal liberty, and that the one thing she would not tolerate from him or anybody else was any invasion of her freedom of thought and action. Silenced, enraged, and humiliated at the rebuke, he had retired to his studio to sulk, like Achilles—a sullen mourner at the bier of Love. For he fully and firmly determined to eradicate this girl from his life and devote it to scourging the exasper- ating sex of which she was a beautiful but baffling member. The trouble with Stephanie, however, was that she could not seem to see the tragedy in his life or understand that a young man desired to suffer nobly and haughtily and at his own leisure and con- venience. For there came a knock at his door after his second day of absenting himself, and when he incautiously opened it, she marched in and took him gaily into her unembarrassed arms and bestowed upon his astonished countenance a hearty, whole- some, and vigorous smack. Moreover, she laughed and jeered and tormented and poked merciless fun at him until she had badgered and worried and hectored and beaten the sulkiness clear out of him. Then she admonished him. “Don’t ever doit again!” she said. “We are free, you and I. What we are to each other alone concerns us, not what we may choose to do or be to others.” “You don’t care what I do, Steve?” Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 “T care what you do to me!” “How I behave otherwise doesn’t con- cern you?” “No. It would be an impertinence for me to meddle. “Tf you are not nice to me, What care I how nice you be— to other girls?” “Do you really mean that it wouldn’t make any difference to you what I do? Suppose I take you at your word and become enamored of some girl and devote myself to her?” “You mean a nice girl, she inquired. “Any old kind.” She ‘considered the matter, surprised. “T couldn’t interfere with your personal liberty,” she concluded, “whatever you choose to do.” “The reason I haven't.’ he said, “ because I’m in love with you.” She was standing with head bent, but now she looked up quickly. “You adorable infant!” she laughed. | “What a child you really are, after all! Come,” she added mischievously; “‘let’s kiss like good children and let the gods occupy themselves with our future. It’s their business, not ours. I’m glad you, think you're in love with me. But, Jim, I’m in love with life. And you're such an important part of life that, naturally, I include you.”’ She bent forward and touched his lips with hers, daintily, deftly avoiding his arms, her eyes gay with malice. “No,” she laughed; “‘not that, if you please, dear friend! It rumples and raises the deuce with my hair and gown. But we are friends again, aren’t we, Jim?” “Yes,” he said, in a low voice; “if you can give me no more than friendship.” “Tt is the most wonderful thing in the world,”’ she insisted. “You've read that somewhere.” “You annoy me, Jim! It is my own conclusion. There’s nothing finer for any- body—unless they want children. And I don’t.” Neither did he. No young man does. But what she said struck him as unpleasant- ly modern. He met Grismer here and there in the artistic channels of the city. At first, he had been civil but cool, avoiding any féfe- a-téte with his old school-fellow. But, little by little, he became aware of several things which slightly influenced his attitude toward Grismer. One thing became plain: the man had no intimates. There was not a man Cleland met who seemed to care very much for Grismer; he seemed to have no frank and cordial friendships among men, no pals. Yet he was considered clever and amusing where people gathered; he interested men without evoking their personal sympathy; he interested women intensely with his unusual good looks and the light, elusive quality of his intelligence. Always amiably suave, graceful of movement, alert, and considerate of femi- nine fancies, moods, and caprices, he was welcomed everywhere by them in the circles into which he sauntered. But there was something about him that did not seem to attract or invite men’s careless comrade- ship or confidence. “It’s those floating golden specks in his eyes,” said Belter, discussing him one don’t you?” 152 | $6729 EASY CLEANING “| FLUID | Neat Clean | Safe |
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Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 day with Cleland. “He’s altogether too auriferous and graceful to be entirely genuine, Cleland—too easy and too bland. Poor beggar—have you noticed how shabby and shiny he’s getting? I guess he’s down and out for fair financially.” Cleland had noticed it. The man’s linen was visibly frayed. His clothes, too, betrayed his meager circumstances; yet he wore them so well, and there was such a courtly indifference in the man that the shabby effect seemed due to a sort of noble carelessness. Cleland had never called on Grismer. He had no inclination to do so, no particu- lar reason except that Grismer had in- vited him several times. Yet an uneasy curiosity lurked within him concerning Grismer’s abode and whether Stephanie, always serenely unconventional, ever went there. He didn’t care to think she did; yet, after all, the girl was this man’s legal wife, and there was no moral law to prevent her going there and taking up her abode if she were so inclined. Cleland never asked her if she went there, perhaps dreading her reply. As far as that was concerned, he could not find any of his friends or acquaintances who had ever been in Grismer’s lodgings. Nobody even seemed to know exactly where they were, except that Grismer lived somewhere in Bleecker Street and never entertained. At times, when Stephanie was not to be found and his unhappy inference placed her in Grismer’s company, he felt an unworthy inclination to call on Grismer and find out whether the girl was there. But the impulse was a low one and made him ashamed, and his envy and jealousy disgusted him with himself. Besides, his state of mind was painfully confused and uncertain in regard to Steph- anie. He was in love with her, evidently; but the utter lack of sentimental response on her part afforded his love for her no nourishment. He traversed the entire scale of emo- tions. came to the exasperated conclusion that he could learn to forget her; when he was with her, the idea seeried rather hopeless. The unfortunate part of it seemed to be that, like his father’s, his was a single-track heart. He’d never been in love, unless this was love. Anyway, Stephanie occupied the single track, and there seemed to be no switches, no sidings, nothing to clear that track. He was exceedingly miserable at times. However, his mind was equipped with a whole terminal full of tracks, and every one was busy in the service of his pro- fession. For a month now, he had been in- stalled in his studio-apartment on the top floor. He picked up on Fourth and on Madison Avenues enough preciously rickety furniture to make him comfort- able and drive friends to distraction when they ventured to trust themselves to chair or sofa. But his writing-table and corner chair were solid and modern, and he had half a dozen things under construction—a novel, some short stories, some poems which he modestly mentioned as ‘‘verses.”’ Except for the unexplored mazes in which first love had involved him, he was When he was not with her, he often’ happy—exceedingly happy. But, to a creative mind, happiness born of self- expression is a weird, uncanny, composite emotion, made up of ecstatic hope and dolorous despair and well peppered with dread and confidence, cowardice and courage, rage and tranquillity, and further seasoned with every devilish doubt and celestial satisfaction that the heart of a writer is heir to. In the morning, he was certain of him- self. He was the captain of his destiny; he was the dictator of his inspiration, equipped with the technical mastery that’ his obedient thoughts dare not disobey. By afternoon, the demon Doubt had shaken self-confidence, and Fear peered at him between every line of his manuscript, and it was a case of Childe Roland from that time on until the pencil fell from his unnerved fingers and he rose from his work satiated, half-stunned, not knowing whether he had done well or meanly. Vaguely-he realized at ‘such moments that, for such as he, a just ap- praisal of his own work would never be possible for him, that he himself would never know; and that what men said of it— if, indeed, they ever said anything about his work—would never wholly convince him, never entirely enlighten him as to its value or its worthlessness. That is one of the penalties imposed upon the creative mind. It goes on pro- ducing because it must. Praise stimulates it, blame depresses; but it never knows the truth. Toward the end of May, one afternoon, Stephanie came into his studio, seated herself calmly in his chair, and picked up his manuscript. “Tt’s no good,” he said, throwing him- self on an antique sofa which just endured the strain and no more. She read for an hour, her gray eyes never leaving the written pages, her pretty brows bent inward with the strain of concentration. He watched her, chin on hand, lying there on the sofa. But the air was mild and languorous with the promise of the coming summer; sunshine fell across the wall; the boy dozed, presently, and after a while lay fast asleep. She had been gone for some time when he awoke. As he sat up, blinking through the late-afternoon sunshine, a penciled sheet of yellow manuscript-paper fluttered from his breast to the floor. Jim, it is fine! I mean it! It is a splendid, virile, honest piece of work. And it is in- tensely interesting. I’m quite mad about it— quite thrilled that you can do such things. It’s so masterly, so mature—and I don’t know where you got your knowledge of that wo- man, because she is perfectly feminine and women think and do such things, and her motives are the motives that animate that sort of woman. As you lie there asleep, you look about eighteen—not much older than when I used to see you when you came home from school and lay on your sofa and read Kipling aloud to me. Then I was awed; you were a grown man to me. Now you are just a boy again, and I love you dearly, and I’m going to kiss your hair, very cautiously, before I go down- stairs. I’ve done it. I’m going now. STEVE. The next instalment of The Restless Sex will appear in January Cosmopolitan. 155 Better Positions Every young man or woman who wishes to move up and out of a routine position— Every man or woman who aspires to become an executive in business— Every executive who realizes the need of becom- ing more and more efficient in his work — Every employer interested in developing a staff of assistants who can C ae their work and get things done—should rea “YOUR MARKET VALUE” This remarkable booklet (36 pp. .) is of Pen gg - worth to anyone whose future depends on earning power. Complimentary Copy on Request Hundreds of men and women are achieving suc- , cess means of the training provided by Pace Standardized Courses in Accountancy and Busi- ness Administration. Pace Courses have been offi- cially adopted by many of the largest corporations in Amer- ica as training courses for their . employees. This instruction is available to you by Exten- sion (mail). Prepare At Home By Mail For outline of courses and details of month’s trial instruction ask for Bulletin C-12. Pace & Pace Hudson Terminal, New York City MAID OUT Never mind.a few of these tins on your shelf gives you CHEFSERVICE At all Good Grocers READY TO HEAT AND SERVE S Inc. Model Kitchen. ORANGE. PURITY LEARN TO PLAY THE UKULELE The latest songs and Hawaiian melodies, taught by mail in 20 easy and interesting lessons. A great source of pleasure at home or in camp. handsome Ha- wailan Ukulele given FREE to those who enrolenow. Your money backif you are not delighted. Makes a desirable Christmas gift. Write now for illustrated booklet. HAWAIIAN INST. 149 West 34th St., N. J AL Bing’s Pine Needle Baths Is a new Process “Pine Needle Extract” which embodies the magic curative qualities with which Nature has endowed the Pine. Used in the Bath it exhales the wonderful aromatic odors of countless pine tree forests. It relaxes and soothes, acting as a strengthening nerve tonic. Just as a sojourn among the pines helps restore the ailing to health, so do the Pine Needle Baths benefit both sick and well. Tired people, nervous people, fagged mental workers—all who suffer from stress and strain, are wonderfully refreshed and strengthened. Even the robust should in- dulge in the luxury of Bing’s Pine Needle Baths They oF cost but 8 cents and less per bath. Use it in hot, warm or cold bath, the one you most enjoy. After you have experienced the feeling of ease and well being — the relaxing of nerve strain—the general rest of a pine needle bath, you will retain it as an indispensable toilet arti- cle. Any physician will testify to the value of Pine Needle Baths and their great aid to those seeking better health or efficiency. Bing’s Pine Needle Baths come in 3 size Pkgs. No.1, Individual, holds 12 baths, $1.00 —Size 2, Family Pkge, holds 75 baths, $5.00— Size 3, Hospital and Sanitarium Pkge, holds 160 baths, 10.00. If not at your dealer will send Exp. Prepaid on receipt of price. Fred K. Bing, Jr. French Floral Chemist 306 Dickey Bldg. Chicago = LOBS ala? G 5 Tonic of the Pines Fei Bottled forYou in- A |
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They ended amid a clapping of hands, and, flushed with pleasure and ex- citement, she hastened to present Tody to her husband. { ‘“‘How do, Mr. Forrester?” said that self- sufficient youngster. ‘I shake hands, but I really ought to knife you for carrying off Amy.” , “Ah—were you interested?” “1?” said Dawson, flushing. ‘Why, didn’t you know I organized the Society of the Mitten?” “Indeed?” said Forrester, in his deep bass, looking at the product of the modern generation as a mastiff endures the antics of a lap-dog. Dawson’s soda-water wit bubbled out completely. He stood shifting from foot to foot, seeking a chance to escape. Brack- en took pity on him. ‘“‘T acknowledge the superiority of your legs, Dawsen,”’ he said, with a shade of sar- casm, “but dance the tango as it really is danced.” “T say—do you know it?” said Dawson eagerly, as though before a great discovery. “By George, I wish you’d show us!” “Very glad to, if Mrs. Forrester will give me her assistance.” He turned to Andrew. “That won’t be asking too much of your wife, will it?” Forrester gave the implied permission with a nod of his head. Bracken passed to the piano, where he indicated to Laracy a slower rhythm and certain definite ac- cents, and returning, bowed to Amy. ““*7ill you do me the honor to dance it with me, Mrs. Forrester? There are cer- tain steps you'll pick up at once. We'll dance it with very little movement of the body, slow, rather languid, quite stately.” In a few moments they were dancing in unison, in graceful, undulating rhythm. Tve held her well apart froi: him, guiding her only with a slight pressure of the left hand, yet she was aware of his nearness. And, as she danced, she felt gloriously, triumphantly young. The brown vaulted hall and the staring strangers swam away. He paid her no corapliraent, except for an occasional nod of satisfaction, but in the gentleness of his voice, in the slight smile with which he watched her moving rhyth- mically about him, she knew that he, too, had the same sense of spontaneous con- geniality. ‘“‘T am sorry we have to stop,” he said at last, with a sigh of regret. “T, too,”’ she answered, in the same tone. They looked at each other a short mo- ment and smiled with pleasure. Then they returned to the others and the general conversation. She knew that she would see him again soon. She looked forward eagerly to the moment when he would really talk to her, sure that they would find instant sympathy. Yet the agreeable impression he had thrown about her was so impersonal that, in their rooms, dressing for dinner, she said to Andrew: “Oh, I like Mr. Bracken! He seems really worth while.” “Bracken is a real man,” said Andrew heartily. “Which means that some of the others aren’t,” she said, laughing. ‘‘Poor Tody and Jap!” “T don’t think I understand that speci- ay Vf / aX / = WP’ that Always | | | ‘Se Se | | | |
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Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 men,” he said gruffly. “‘Why don’t they put them i in ruffles?” She came up to him vastly amused, twitching his ear. “Gracious, you mustn’t be so fierce! They’re harmless.” Perhaps.” you bored?” But he did not voice his real sentiments. It had been a great readjustment, and his pride had suffered. For the first time he had felt lost, dwarfed, and inconsequential. The shock had awakened all his ambition, setting in train dangerous desires for power and prestige, to force the recognition he craved—to be some one in this society, where he was rated lower than the youngest cub with his bag of tricks to amuse. And this awakening appetite was destined to change the whole course of his life. VII A FEW minutes before dinner, Mrs. Dellabarre found occasion to say to Monte Bracken: “T am putting you beside little Mrs. Forrester. There are reasons why I want you to be, well—extra attentive to her.” “Special reasons?” said Bracken, smiling, for Irma’s mental processes were a source of delight to him and he saw in the request a ruse to give the appearance of a duty to what was inclination. Mrs. Dellabarre’s glance passed down the hall to where the mechanical figure of her husband was superintending the dis- tribution of the cocktails. “You are too quick, Monte, to need em- barrassing explanations,” she said sig- nificantly. ‘So make a point of it—only don’t get really interested.” ‘“Then I am not to sit next to you?” he said, with an admiring glance at her strik- ing and harmonious foilette. With Irma he was never bored and never convinced. “Tt’s better not,” she said slowly. Amy went in on the arm of Mr. Della- barre, who showed her to her seat with a dignity which he assumed with the same care with which he calculated the descend- ing steps and rounded the obstacles of the chairs. “T hope you are enjoying yourself here,”’ he said, in spaced solemnity, with a fugi- tive, indifferent look in the pale eyes, which had become a little watery. Then he drew back into his shell, always uncomfortable in the presence of new acquaintances, par- ticularly of the opposite sex. In ten years, he had not added a friend- ship. The butler, having watched him into his seat, saw that his glass did not remain long empty. The scene with his wife had upset his routine, for in his inebriety there was no disorder—total abstinence until six o’clock, a certain number of cocktails, an invariable pint of champagne, and later the regular measure of old preserve Scotch. But to-night he had gone a little beyond his schedule, and he sat waiting for the dinner to begin, staring painfully at a silver dish on the glowing table-cloth in front of him. ~ Mrs. Forrester, thus abandoned, waited with eagerness the moment when Monte Bracken would turn to her. Though the chatter, based on intimate details, was for- eign to her, and the white fronts of the men loomed with the rigidity of social tomb- stones, she felt like an exile returning into her own. The men were mostly of the rid- first choice settle doubly of its depend y, ervice mn simoplity ever with Phoen$x in for Men women, and Children rec | 157 C Crrias, upon / q our shopping by > o } yone on your list pie boxes — |_| VLisses | Phoenix Knitting Works 5 C ‘Milwaukee
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SI Dooce BROTHERS CLOSED CAR It is at once a man’s car and a woman’s car Winter CELE Touring Car or Roadster, $885. In Canada $1290. Dooce BROTHERS, DETROIT Uncommon beauty and luxury appeal alike to both sexes— as do substantial construction, light weight and economy of operation The gasoline consumption is unusually low. The tire mileage is unusually high. Sedan or Coupe, $1350. In Canada $1965. Touring Car or Roadster, $1050. In Canada $1525. All prices f.o.b. Detroit. TON JAS 6 GT Faces Made Yo Let me tell you the secret of a youthful face. Every woman who has a single facial defect should know about my Results Guaranteed I offer the exercises at my own risk. If you are earning less than 3] $50.00 PER WEEK and like to draw—you should study Leading Art Managers—the men who know—recommend us and employ our students. We will guarantee to make you thne ART No woman need be disappointed. Write | for my ‘Free Book which tells you es what to do to make your complexion smooth tiful. Write today. Kathryn Murray, 1248 Garland Bldg. Chicago Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 ing set, in excellent humor due to proper preparation, ready to be fed and talked to. The women were electrically pretty, in flashing colors, daring in the décolleté which, that season, had broken down all prejudices. Opposite her was the beautiful Mrs. Challoner, cold and statuesque, flaw- less in feature and complexion, careless of the public announcement of her dimpled shoulders and the white fall of her throat. She remembered with amusement some of Andrew’s preconceived ideas. He was be- side Mrs. Dellabarre, and she thought, as she caught his expression, that he was rather consciously examining his plate. Irma Dellabarre was not so copiously re- vealed as Mrs. Challoner, and yet she gave the impression of being more so, in a deep- purple velvet dress that hid one shoulder and gave to the other the malicious ap- pearance of an accident. She wore one stone—a point of white fire against the dark throat. “She looks like a portrait,” Amy said, turning to Bracken. “Irma always paints a portrait.” But one of the Miss Teakes, determined not to let him go, recalled him with a question. Amy waited. In the glance he had given her, she had felt the divining instinct of the man. He affected her with a strange sense of intimacy. Without the need of effort, in the first pleased meeting of their eyes, she felt he comprehendcd her, her varying moods and contrary impulses, her bewilderment before unchartercd ex- periences, all the good and bad which lay undisciplined within her, and to compre- hend this without criticism in his compre- hension of many women. Yet when, at length, he turned to her, she experienced a sudden embarrassment. “How stupid I am—I am boring him,” she thought, after a first moment of manu- factured conversation. All at once she saw that he was watching her with critical amusement. She began to laugh. “How do you know what amuses me?” he asked. “T do. You were admiring my social manner.” “Right! It is terrifically impressive.” “Then let’s break the ice and really talk,” she said eagerly. “What! Say what we really think?” “Please.” “The responsibility be on your head,”’ he said gravely. ‘But why do you want to put me to such a test?” “Tf I told you, it would sound very flat,” she said, smiling at him. “Of course there is only one thing that’s interesting—ourselves,” he said, with a mischievous upward turn of his lips, which were unusually sensitive for a man. She considered this in some doubt. It was, of course, the only subject she longed to discuss, but she wondered if this was but the prelude toa conventional flirtation. “Well—begin.” “Would you do it over again?” he said, with an assumption of magisterial solem- nity which robbed the question of half its astounding impertinence. “Why, Mr. Bracken!” she exclaimed, taken utterly off her guard, which was what he wished. “Dear me, is not that the most natural question in the world?” he said, lifting his eyebrows. ‘Walking through the social jungle, I meet a young lady who has the 158 } — | le i NE | | = | E } =H] = | | | | it | | | = | As | | com q 710, 11 | necks-clear up sallow skins and | noms restore the charm of girlhood } | cons awaits beauty. No creams, massage, | men win high positions in bus- masks,plasters,straps, vibrators, | iness and public life. Greater “beauty” treatments or other Se artificial means, A, | leader. Lawyers carn step. You can train at | le guide you step by step. You can train at home nds of successful stu- Soaking tree Dept. 1255-F Chicage
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Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 appearance of having eloped from board- ing-school, a young lady who commands me to halt and say what I think. There- upon, I look at her and, wondering many things, I ask a direct question. Of course, if you wish to go back——” ‘Heaven forbid!” she said hastily. She looked at him with a quizzical smile, which brought her eyebrows into their odd angle, and, suddenly determined to give him as good as he sent, said, “Question for question?”’ “ Agreed.” “Tf you had to make up your mind again”—she glanced over again to where Irma was sitting—‘“‘would you do the same thing?” He laughed without embarrassment. “Your question is more impertinent than mine,” he said, without pretense of misunderstanding. ‘‘And some one has been gossiping.” “Then you admit yours was, too,” she said, with a satisfied nod. ‘‘ Well, sir?” “T perceive you are in love with your husband,” he said evasively. Adopting his tone of banter, she replied: “You see, I am still a bride. Now the secret is out. I am quite hopeless. Why such a serious look? Pitying me?” He shook his head. “‘Or perhaps my husband?”’ “Perhaps the husband,” he said slowly, looking at her more attentively. “Really, this is the most extraordinary conversation!” she cried. ‘“‘ Are you making fun of me, or do you always shock people to break the ice?” “Shall we return to sterilized conversa- tion, then?” “Anything but that! these people are.”’ ‘Who interests you?” “Mrs. Bracken. Your sister-in-law, isn’t she?” she said instantly, glancing | across the table at the woman who had attracted her from the first. | “Really?” he said appreciatively. should have thought the beautiful Mrs. Challoner Tell me who | “No, no—plaster of Paris,” she said | maliciously. “Beware! She'll become a bosom friend.” “Tell me about your sister-in-law.” “Claire?” he said, and the raillery went out of his voice. ‘There are not two like her in the world!” “T believe it,” she said pensively. “I | have never seen such kind eyes.” For a moment | hey were silent, studying her. She stood out from all the rest by the distinction of her bearing, her poise, the cul- tured modulation of her voice, and the gra- ciousness of her expression, which lay in the serenity of her eyes, the serenity of one who still retains the child’s faith in the good of the world or perhaps has come to charity through some suffering, nobly en- dured. At this moment, as though aware of their interest, the lady turned and, their eyes meeting, Amy smiled impulsively and shyly. Mrs. Bracken looked a moment surprised, divined that she was being dis- ~ cussed, and responded by a little friendly | nod of her head. | “Allan, my brother, is beside Mrs. Challoner,” Monte said, indicating a young fellow who was laughing boyishly in a serio-comic attitude of flattery. “One of the best young scamps in the world— irresponsible as a kitten, lovable as you Every Quaker Tire Buyer Has Used Other Makes Quaker Tires are not sold to car manufacturers. Therefore every purchaser of Quakers has had ex- perience with at least four tires of another make— the tires on the car when received from the makers. Too, this means that Quakers are bought as a matter of choice- -not incidental to the purchase of a car. As a rule users of Quakers first bought a single tire. The first tire made the subsequent sales. Certainly you are not satisfied with a 3500-mile ‘‘guar- antee’’ when you can get Quakers—the tires that need no guarantee, yet are backed with a 1500-mile better adjustment than are the tires you use. Try one Quaker Tire. QUAKER CITY RUBBER COMPANY PHILADELPHIA: Factories 182 W. Lake Street PITTSBURGH: 211 Wood Street EW YORK: 53 Murray Street — of IRONSIDES, Quaker City and Crown Rubber Belts, Daniel's P. P. Rod Packing, Daniel’s EBONITE Sheet Packing, Daniel’s EBON ITE Steam Hose, Ringmeter Garden Hose, etc. 159 ~ —
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160 inexpensive. typewritiug easy for anyone. Saves mee. No hing else like it. 80 to 100 words a minute in typewriting and 325 to 150 words minute in shorthand, guaranteed, Earn $25 to $40 2 Week Typewriting Course based on er Training. Shorthand on Method. Basie: + sysvems known. Entire Course on Trial. Complete business training included. Write at once for full particulars and special offer, Address THE TULLOSS SCHOOL 1637 College Hill Springfield Christmas 1917,a Season for Sensible Giving, suggests a Gift both useful and ls AM the DAYLO- that Milady carries in her hand-bag, a traveling com- panion of her vanity case and used almost as fre- quently. AM the DAYLO- that mother needs to guide her safely down thosedark cellar stairs or about that dusky attic, AM the DAYLO- that brings the motorist’s troubles tolight,forI bring light to the trouble AM the: DAYLO- for the guest chamber. No dainty dimity curtain can take fire from my incan- descent glow. AM the DAYLO- that he needs on his hunt- ing and fishing trips. I make comfortable the wil- derness camp. * * 77 styles from 75c, up (in Canada 85c. up) at electrical, hardware, drug, sporting goods, jewelry and stationery stores everywhere. And these stores aboundin many other sensible gift suggestions. AMERICAN EVER READY WORKS: q of National Carbon Co., Inc. Long Island City, N. Y. Chicago Atlanta San Francisco Canadian National Carbon Co., Ltd. Toronto, Ontario gree teed nctory col uble our price Se Unpaid to match at mas Jos. DeRo a Sons-1033DeRoy Bldg... Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 make them, without a spot of malice in him, and always in trouble up to his ears, despite the best of intentions.” “T wonder if they are happy together?” Amy asked impulsively. “Claire has made everything of him,” he continued. ‘‘He might have ended in the gutter. Instead, he has become a useful citizen. He adores his home, his children. He is interested in a dozen ac- tivities, and he has discovered that he has a mind. He is fortunate.” “Does he know it?” “He knows it,” he said emphatically. “You have a very high opinion of her,” she said, looking at him. “Yes, very.” The feeling which he had shown sur- prised her. Had there been more than just this reverence, she wondered. “T didn’t expect you to take this view of life,” she said, still in her reverie. “Tt’s rather too intimate,” he said, and ° returned to the lightness of his first man- ner. “Shall we gossip?” “Don’t!” she said impulsively. “T like you better this way.” VIII WHEN they left the men for the parlor, the mauvais quart d’heure which Amy had feared began. Mrs. Dellabarre, not yet decided to accept such a formidable rival, turned her over to the mercy of the others. Amy, after a moment of hesitation, drew up her chair beside Mrs. Challoner and Mrs. Lightbody. ““Mrs. Challoner, I have been admiring you all through dinner,” she began timidly. “T have never seen anything so darling as your gown.” “This rag? Oh, really! I was about to throw it away,” said Mrs. Challoner, favor- ing her with a stare and, turning to Mrs. Lightbody, she added: “I’m done with Prandish. The line he gives you this year is something abominable.” “Gracious, Gladys, I should say so! There really is only one place in New York,” said Mrs. Lightbody, without deeming it necessary to specify such com- mon knowledge. “And who is that?” said Amy, and, de- termined to be agreeable, she moved her chair around Mrs. Challoner’s _half- averted shoulder. “Why, Franceline, of course!” Both ladies turned in astonishment, while their glances traveled from her over her gown, which, though sufficiently ex- pensive, was not from Franceline. “Rudy was certainly leaning hard on his fork to-night,” said Mrs. Lightbody, in a whisper, which was her slangy way of describing his familiar condition. “Poor Irma, he does hang on!” said Mrs. Challoner. “They had another row this morning.” “About whom?” said Mrs. Challoner, interested. “Monte, of course.” “T don’t see how she stands it = shouldn’t blame her for anything.” “Tsay, Gladys, everything’s poky around here,” said Mrs. Lightbody, “what do you say to getting up a party for to-morrow? I can ’phone.” All at once, as though aware of an eavesdropper, she stopped and looked at Amy, who, unable to utter a \ ord, had sat rigidly, completely isolated. VEREADY | EVEREADY DAY Did you know that you could use me, ww in so mariy ways? I ~ | | | | } re xx Become a Stenogtapher SS | | Try to Match at 60% More! Vv Wire for Joe. DeRoy & Sots || Pittsburg, Pa. DIAMONDS — WATCHES ON GREDIT JAMES BERGPIAN 656 27-22.
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Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 161 “We'll talk it over later,” said Mrs. Challoner significantly. At the moment when this public snub- bing had become evident to everyone, Mrs. Bracken rose and, approaching them, held out her hand to Amy, saying: “Come over and talk to me a little. I want to really know you.” This unex- pected overture changed on the instant the attitude of all toward Mrs. Forrester. Mrs. Bracken came of a family which for five generations had never deviated from its ideals, producing men and women educated to elpmates and| : mothers, whose conduct did not vary with} f— For Christmas—a bag or suitcase—a Belber bag or the wind of fashion but rested on the rock! [% suitcase—made of Du Pont Fabrikoid, Craftsman of selfrespectone of those families, the) Quality —fitted complete with a toilet set of beautiful Ivory Py-ra-lin—and doubly guaranteed. continue steadfast in their traditions, ABRIKO! despite the torrential spread of a new poly- glot society. ‘‘Here is a quiet corner,” she said, and, still holding Amy’s hand, she drew her to a window seat. “What a| child you are! But you held your ground| & TRAVEL. “QUALITY gs oy i filled with tears at the gen-| {2 It is the ultimate in Christmas gifts. Nothing could give more tleness of her tone. Mrs. Bracken perceived| | {lasting pleasure nor better convey the Christmas sentiment. the emotion she had caused and gave her| | a ee a little pressure of the hand. / and department stores “There, my dear! They are cats, but it! @ is a tribute, you know.” 5) ~The Belber Trunk and Bag Co., Amy hardly heard what was said. She| ~ Turner St., Philadelphia, Pa. was gazing at her, carried away by anim-| © 681 F—Black pulse she did not comprehend. © 685 F—Brown wish I could be your friend,” she said.|_ Made in handsome small cross “Perhaps you will be.”’ _ grain. Fitted as illustrated. “T feel that I could talk to you about 20 inch size $12.00 anything,” she said quickly, I know 22 to be your friend is a great privilege.” = 24 14. “Yes; I don’t give my friendship easily,| © he Other styles but I believe I could be a friend to you—a| | J from $7.50 up real friend.” They looked at each other fora moment,; | 2 knowing that their sympathy was mutual.| — i Wim “Oh, please, I wish you would, Mrs. Bracken; it would mean so much to me!” “Then that’s decided,” she answered, _ with a smile. ‘‘ Now tell me a little about - When, later, the men came in, Allan and —— — ~ — Monte Bracken joined them, visibly sur- , 3) “Well, that is a compliment,” said Monte Bracken when, the dancing having begun, they installed themselves in the conservatory for a breathing-spell. “I never saw Claire go to anyone like that before.” “She took pity on Bracken looked amused. BE ladies were showing their claws, eh?” “And I felt them.” “You won’t be let in without a fight, you know. Because you are destined to become a professionally beautiful woman, like Mrs. Challoner over there.” He nodded toward the dancers, who flashed across the door- way and, with an assumption of imper- sonality, continued: “If I were seeking to compliment you, I would not put it in the future. You are not there yet. You are prised at the cordiality of their attitude. Clocks Rideau Pembroke i IVE Seth Thomas Clocks for Wedding, Birthday and Anni- versary Gifts. Give them to fill a welcome place on the mantel of the home. Give them to endear the memory of =! your thoughtfulness and give them because they render a life- time of accurate time-telling service. Seth Thomas Clocks are essertially “good taste.” They harmonize perfectly with refined surroundings, on the threshold. There is a whole art to adding a charm of their own. The above clocks are remarkably accurate. acquire—or a profession, as you wish. Rideau Apply to your jeweler who has Pembroke ~That’s what interests me about you— A. beautiful model of quiet in stock or can procure for you Mahogany case, 4¥M-in. sil- what is coming. To me, every beautiful dignity, Carved mabogany through our newillustrated — ‘¢red dial. 10 in. high, 18 in. woman is a potential tragedy.” Gial'9 in high, long, catalog these or others of our 15:day pendulum move. “Tn what way?” she said, too interested 15-day pendulum movement, mahogan y clocks ranging in hour on soft-toned Cathedral to be self-conscious. Cathedral bel. from $10 to $75. or room, library or living room. “A tragedy to others, to those she con-|] \ "SETH THOMAS CLOCK COMPANY, NEW YORK p sumes. and exhausts.’”’ He drew back, studying her with more interest as he be- iis. a wa. aN D | i 4 |
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'162 Yr | This Christmas Gift Never Fails to Satisfy Let the Bissell Vacuum Sweeper solve at least one of your Christmas gift prob- lems. No gift that you could purchase would give more genuine, lasting pleas- ure and satisfaction. BISSELLV’S Vacuum Sweeper will keep the house immaculately clean in a sanitary, efficient, quick and easy way. Powerful, yet light-running and easy to operate, it has no superior as a cleaning device. One-piece nozzle and a dust-bag;that empties from the rear are features you find only in a Bissell’s. Bissell’s Vacuum Sweepers sell at mod- erate _prices—$6.00 to $12.50, “‘Cyco” Ball-Bearing Carpet Sweepers o33- 25 to $6.25—depending on style and’ locality. Sold by Gales everywhere. Booklet on request. Bissell Carpet Sweeper Co. Oldest and Largest Sweeper Makers Grand Rapids, Mich. Made in Canada, too (359) $15 to $25 per Thousands are coking Eup th this congenial unusual so- income. woman of 18 or over —_ learn under Our system founded 1902 is endorsed leading physicians. Dr.Perkins,the founder, | wil! personally instruct you, assures th: orough | training yet saves a ae of time, _Low tuition; sn ollmontht payments. Send for lesson pages and 4m illustrated catalog today— ALL FREE upon pon request Write now. OF NURSING, Est. 1902. 16-D South Michigan Bivd., Chicago Beautiful Christine Kedek Enlarge- 8x10 mounted, 35c. Send onl ments for Gifts the negative. Best Kedak De. veloping—any size roll for roc and 6 prints Free with first roll. Or send 6 negatives, any size, and 10 cents for 6 prints. Ask for big catalog cameras,falbums, etc. Roanoke Photo Finishing Co., Bell Ave Va. Print; r Own Cards, er profit. All easy, rules sent. Write factory or catalog Paper, THE PRESS CO., D-36 Meriden, "REDUCE YOUR FLI FLESH ar my famous Rubber Garments sous your super- pond fiesh will positively disappe: - DR. JEANNE | WALTER’S Famous Medicate RUBBER GARMENTS ie For Men and Women Cover the entire body or any part. The safeand quick way to reduce by erspiration. Endorsed by leading physicians cial advantages. ‘Excellent FROWN $2.00 CHIN REDUCER............. 2.00 NECK and cms REDUCER . 8.00 6.00 ABDOMINAL REDUCER ....... 00 6. Also Union Suits, Stockings, Jackets, etc., for the of reducing the flesh anywhere desired. Invaluable to those suffering from ae Se or free illustrated boo! Redneer, lee $5.00 Dr. Walter's DR. JEANNE C. WALTER Inventor and Paten' famous reducing rubber 8. E. Oor. 34th St.. 5th New York coutil back. WW came interested in the subject. a beautiful woman—the professionally | beautiful kind—quite a distinction, you know—is a social adventurer. She arrives | like self-made men arrive; there is much in common between them.” He smiled, add- ing more lightly: “‘I suppose, at the present moment, you have made all sorts of good resolutions and you believe in them. Futility! Throw them away! You are doomed, my dear Mrs. Forrester. Society needs you. You will rule it and be its slave. You don’t believe me?” “T should not let him be talking to me this way,”’ she thought, ‘“‘and yet it is quite impersonal.” Her curiosity was aroused at the half-serious, half-humorous way in which he dissected her. “Can’t I have a will of my own?” she asked. what?” “A will of my own.” “You will have fashions of conduct, fashions of thinking, but will—that does not exist! A professionally beautiful wo- man must always be in style. She dresses, acts, and thinks as other beautiful women do—because her life is to compete with them, and to compete with them she must attack them on their own territory. You are not convinced? Look at the dear things to-night!” He reassured himself with a glance as to the modesty of his com- panion’s décolleté and indicated, with a wave of his hand, the daring shoulders and throats of the dancers. ‘If you had sug- gested, five years ago, to any woman pres- ent that she would come to dress like this, how indignant she would have been!’’ Amy, thinking of her cerise gown which Andrew had found too daring, laughed | guiltily. “Well, yes; but that’s only a question of dress.” “Pardon me—question of style, and everything else will be a question of style. The dear ladies who tried to snub you to- night will become your inseparable friends the moment they see they cannot down you. And you, on your part, will give more time to them, your dearest rivals, than to your own family. You will have a sort of collective morality. You find Irma surrounded by a collection of young fetch- and-carrys. You'll establish your own brigade or try to steal hers from her. |=* You'll flirt as Irma flirts. You'll dare as Irma dares. You'll break the conventions as Irma breaks them.” “Why always Irma?” “Oh, Irma is the perfect type of a so- ciety model. She has wit; she has taste, and she has a thorough instinct for avoid- ing the ice where it begins to grow thin. She is thoroughly convinced of the inno- cence of all her intentions—in fact, she is quite capable of founding a school of mod- ern social philosophy.” “Aren’t you making us out very im- moral persons?” “““Tmmoral!’ Of course,’’ he said cheer- fully. “You are all profoundly immoral, but not in the sense you attach. You are immoral because you are irresponsible. Immoral in another sense—no! That’s the worst and the best of you. You avoid great emotions. They are too disturbing, and you can’t take the time in society. You seek safe little emotions—to be con- stantly amused. The strongest emotion Irma has is jealousy of Gladys Challoner. They spend their lives attacking each Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 “You see, cy-Hots”’ are the all vacuum bottles to do but fill the bottle a an tion. Provides hot or ‘drinks when motoring, yachting, bunt- ing, fishing, ete. Soldier’s Outfit Give him an ‘“‘Icy-Hot.”’ It will ive him. comfort. Itmay save No. “43-D Bottle with on cup Khaki Sent direct to broad. Seldier’e Special ICY-HOT Lunch Kit Bh Workers and School Child- Metal, gase with leather hand ercom) ent keeps lunch moist and fresh. Complete with ICY- HOT Bottle $3.00 prepaid. Ask Your Dealer Look for the “*Iey-Hot”’ ttom—Accept No Sub- Dealers and Department Stores. Send Now for our ni Cates No. 30 show- ing, ic: Hots’’ from AUTOMATIC REPEATING RIFLE , FIRES 20 SHOTS IN ONE LOADING, Same _ and shapeas regular automatic revolver. s B.B. shots obtainable and guns. No oa; as it works with a rl and shoots vith ray racy. 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Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 other, poaching on each other’s preserves. | They outrival each other in display; they are indispensable to each other; they call each other up on the telephone every morn- ing and tear each other to pieces every night. ment?” Womanlike, while listening to this dia- tribe, delivered half playfully, half seri- ously, she felt a sharp pinch of annoyance which caused her to say acidly: “ And this is what Llamto become? Thank you! You have a very bad opinion of me.”’ “TI? Not at all! You'll see—society needs you. You will be one of its martyrs. You must be admired, imitated, and torn to pieces regularly, or society would be a very dull place. In a year or two, when I come back again, I shall hope to be your very good friend. Who knows—I may be foolish enough to lose my head!” She laughed at the casual’ way he de- clared this impertinence, as though offering her an atoning compliment. “Even with all your wisdom?” “Oh, the wisest is the most vulnerable!” “So, in your eyes, I am doomed?” “There will be compensations,” he said, with a smile. She dropped her fan for a moment and raised her eyes, meditative, solemn. “T believe you are more than half serious.” “‘Serious—never! I never would be so impertinent as to tell the truth in a serious manner.” “But if I permit you,” she added, after a slight hesitation. “Very well then, I warn you—you can’t play the game like Irma. If you have a spark of real emotion, it is dangerous to feed on sensation, even little sensations. They who live by their sensations shall perish by their sensations. A man with a conscience and a woman with a heart have no place here. In the end”— he hesitated a moment—“ yes, in the end, there will be trouble. Ah, not just now—later, when you wake up.” “You don’t think I am awake now, then,” she said, avoiding his glance. ““No; I do not.” There was a long pause, during which she brought the soft, undulating feathers of her fan back again across her face. “Are you really leaving soon?” she said, presently. ‘Yes; I am going to take up my post in Madrid immediately.” “You are really a terrifying person to talk to,” she said. ‘I don’t know whether I'd care to repeat this experience.” “Tf I have told you the truth,” he said quietly, “I have tried to keep to generali- ties. At this moment, Tody Dawson descend- ed on them like a runaway tower. ‘Here, I say, Monte! Amy, we’ve bees sending out search-parties for you!” She sprang up, genuinely glad for the in- terruption, startled at the intimacy which had grown over them. She felt annoyed, angry at herself, for the ease with which ‘she had revealed herself, resenting also the impersonal quality of his curiosity, so utterly devoid of any tribute to her. No one had ever approached her in that attitude. “He thinks I am only a child,” she |& thought impatiently. She determined, she did not know ex- actly why, that she would give him no Do you think any man can com- | pete with the strength of such an attach- 163 The Fate of the Unprepared Among the remarkable events of this war no fact stands out more startlingly than the tragic sacrifice of Russia's unequipped soldiers. The army has been victimized by intrigue and treachery. Guns were sent to the front without ammunition and ammunition without guns. Sup- plies were provided that when un- packed proved to be rubbish. Left stranded by communications that broke down under slight pressure the brave Russian troops hurled themselves again and again against foes perfectly prepared. From the very verge of victory they doggedly fell back fighting with stones and clubs and iron bars, resisting heroically but ineffectively. No thought can be more abhor- rent to Americans than that of our boys ruthlessly slaughtered because of lack of equipment or support which it is the first business of us at home to supply. Our Government, never before so powerful, is working prodigiously in the preparation of armies and means of warfare. Throughout the nation there is a unity of purpose that is piling on the altar of liberty every personal ambition and cor- porate gain. Mines, factories, farms, shipyards, the counting houses and shops of every industry are laboring day and night to supply the sinews of war. The Bell System is co-operating to mobilize production, transporta- tion and communication, and is using its every energy to speed up American defense. 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The maid, dozing in the hall, sprang up hastily. Amy sent her away after the mystifying process of unhooking had been accomplished and slipping into a negligée, vibrantly awake, stood at the ivy-clad window looking down on the spectacle of the departing cars. The echo of many compliments was pleasant in her ear, the consciousness not only of the evening’s success but of all that future would bring hung in her imagi- nation like a disturbing perfume. She was still an amateur, as Bracken had said, and she found herself thinking of Irma Dellabarre, of her poise, her exquisite taste, the charm of her manner “Tf I were a man, I should be crazy about her,”’ she said to herself. “‘I wonder if he really isn’t.” “Not sleeping?” said the voice of her husband. indeed!” She left the window. Andrew wandered in. His lawn tie was pulled loose. He had thrown off coat and vest, preparing to re- tire. He was in flowered suspenders, rose- buds ona satin background. The sight of these suspenders affected her disagreeably —the disillusioning intimacy of marriage. “Didn’t you bring a dressing-gown?” she asked irritably. ““No—why?” “You'll catch cold after dancing,” she said hastily, surprised herself at this first critical impulse toward her husband. “T did very little dancing,” he said shortly. “Imust take lessons.”’ He looked at her with shining eyes. “Very proud of you this evening, Y um Yum ““T’m glad of that,’’ she said, ashamed of Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 Lift Corns out with Fingers A few drops of Freezone loosen corns or calluses so they peel off Apply a few drops of Freezone upon a tender, aching corn or a ‘a callus. The soreness stops and shortly the entire corn or callus loosens and can be lifted off without a twinge of pain. Freezone removes hard corns, soft corns, also corns between the toes and hardened calluses. Freezone does not irritate the surrounding skin. You feel no pain when applying it or afterward. Women! Keep a tiny bottle of her annoyance. “The prettiest there,” he said, nodding. | He stopped before her, his head on one side, studying the dainty figure. “What is it? Did I. do something | wrong?” “No, no; I was just trying to figure out. Let’s see.”” He took upa scarf and, freeing the negligée, draped it about her shoulders. The décolleté thus exposed was in the man- ner of Mrs. Challoner. “Turn around.” When he had contemplated the delicate slope of her shoulders, the whiteness of the skin, the slender and graceful column of the neck, he said: “Tknewit! Not one can touch you. As for Mrs. Challoner, we’ll settle her.” She watched him, amused at this sudden conversion, perceiving the working of new ideas behind his contemplation. “So the cerise gown——”’ “Mrs. Dellabarre dresses beautifully,” he interrupted, smiling guiltily. “Young lady, some new dresses at once!” He looked at her again. “Mrs. Challoner, in- deed!”’ he said indignantly. Following his gesture she turned to the mirror. She stood staring at the prophetic figure which confronted her. “Don’t spoil me, Andrew!” she said, turning abruptly and drawing her negligée hastily about her. He had flung himself down in an arm- chair, plunged in a brown study. I'reezone on your dresser and never let a corn ache twice. Small bottles can be had at any drug store in the Uniied States or Canada, The Edward Wesley Co., Cincinnati, O. SEXUAL KNOWLEDGE ILLUSTRATED By WINFIELD SCOTT HALL, M.D., Ph.D. SEX FACTS MADE PLAIN What every young man and a Every young woman should know What every young husband and $1.00 Every young wife should know What every parent should know AMERICAN PUB. CO. “1203 Winston Bidg., Philadelphia WANTED — More Salesmen | — Salesman Earns $6500 THIS YEAR | —onl an ordinary record. Thous- —_—- successful members. 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Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 his unusual mood. The satin suspend- ers, worked in rosebuds, stood before her eyes wherever she looked. What had pos- sessed him to get them? “Tt’s quite a revelation—coming here,” he said. ‘What do you think it costs to run this place?” ‘Heavens! How do I know?” “You like it?” he said, looking at her fixedly. it—naturally.” “Nothing second chop here,” he said, wagging his head. ‘‘When we g0 back— we'll make a bonfire of what we’ve got.” “But, Andrew——” “Tt’s trash. This has opened my eyes. Make a friend of Mrs. Dellabarre. She can teach you everything. Look at the way she runs her house, the order, the charm of it! I don’t know how she does it—but I’m going to learn. Yes, sir; I’m going to have a home like this.” “ Andrew, but how can we?” “Why, all we need is a million,” he said, unable to resist a touch of that humorous braggadocio which is the zest of the Ameri- can parvenu. ‘“‘Tt means a few years’ plugging, but, by Jove, it’s worth it!” he said boisterously. He rose with the dogged fighting-face of the old athlete. ‘Look here: We’re going to enjoy life to the fullest, you and I. We’re going to have everything life can give—and we're going to have the best. Andrew B. Forrester is going to surprise a few people around these parts!” She understood. ““You’ve decided to accept Mr. Gun- ther’s offer!” “Within ten minutes after I got here,” he said, beaming. ‘What! Aren’t you pleased?” “Yes, yes; I suppose so—if you want it. You take my breath away,’ she said soberly. She could not have told herself why, but the prospect frightened her. ‘*My, how serious we are!” “But, this afternoon, Andrew, you said we had enough—’” she began. He dismissed the objection with a wave of his hand. “This afternoon, my dear girl, I didn’t know what money was worth!” “Tf you go, I go with you,” she said im- pulsively. 165 mM “FRUIT SALT” (Derivative Compound) A Pleasant Aperient The need of a safe and efficacious corrective and laxative is efficiently met by Eno’s “ Fruit Salt.” A tonic aperient with active remedial properties, highly beneficial to the digestion, and extremely useful in stimulating the organs of elimination. It promptly corrects stomach -ailments, biliousness, and constipation. A teaspoonful in a glass of water makes a sparkling and refreshing draught. agreeable to the taste that children are eager for it. Eno’s “Fruit Salt’’ has been a favorite household f remedy for over 35 years. It is gentle in action and positive in results. Again in g supply in_ this country, and now may be readily obtained everywhere. Sold by Druggists Prepared only by J. C. ENO, Ltd., London, S. 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166 Examine FREE the EW PARSONS The foremost of money-savers in telling one what NOT to do The F. Legal Standard Parsons’ LAWS OF BUSINESS The invaluable companion of everyone ix business, everyone who does business, everyone needing knowledge busi- mess; everyone who holds prop- erty or wishes to hold it; that is, all the world. Over 260,000 sold of former editions. Wacther or not you have one, you cannot afford not te own The New, Greatly En- riched 1917 Edition. With up-to date chapters on Employers’ Liability; Work- men’s Compensation; Powers and Liabilities of Stockholders, Officers and Directors of Corpo- rations; Food and Drug Law; New Trade-Mark Law; New Copyrig' t Law, Bailment, etc. Also a full Glossary of Law It treats also of rights and duties under Contracts, Sales, Notes, Agency. Agreement, Consideration, Limitations, Leases, Partnership, Executors, Bonds, Receipts, Patents, D is, didly bound in w Canvas. Minors, Married Women, Arbi- tration, Guardians, Wills, and very much besides. Up-te-Date 1917—The book contains also abstracts of All State Laws reiating to collection of Debts, Interest, Usury, Deeds, Holidays, Days o: Grace, Limitations, Liens, etc. Likewise nearly 300 Approved Forms of Contracts of all kinds, Assign- ments, Guaranty, Powers of Attorney, Wills, etc. Sent by prepaid exprest. on examination for ten days. If whet we claim remit $3.50 in payment; if not wanted we will send stawps for return. §. S. SCRANTON CO. and Beauty with the Cha A skin as fine as a baby’s and as sweet as a rose can yours with this massager. A few minutes daily use accomplishes wonders. Operated by hand needs no elec- tricity. Eoual to any high priced machine. PRICE $1 POSTPAID. Send for free booklet. LILLIAN NELSON 2123 Fifth - ve. tk New York City lans for build- a EE Catalogs with pric you ce and pi Write for them THE EDWARDS MANUFACTURING CO. METAL ROOFING, METAL LOCKERS, ROLLING DOORS, ETC. 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Back in her bed, she won- dered at her emotion. Why was she afraid? ‘No one could ever be so kind,” she said to herself resolutely. “He will always hold me by that!” Her rest was fitf.l, disturbed by the echoes of catchy music which turned about her. All night she seemed to be dancing. Toward morning, she fell into a heavy sleep, in which she had a curious dream. She was in the midst of a great ballroom and, whirling about her, were her father, Fifi, uncle Tom, Mr. Dellabarre, everyone she knew. She saw Andrew dancing with Mrs. Challoner, dancing very heavily, tripping and hopelessly muddled in his steps until Mrs. Challoner stopped sud- denly and exclaimed: “How absurd for you to ask me to dance! Why, you don’t know the first thing about it!” Every woman that Andrew invited to dance shook her head and laughed. All at once, to her horror, she perceived that he was in suspenders, white-satin suspenders, worked with rosebuds! Then she was dancing with him, piloting him through the swinging crowd. At first he stumbled, and she heard a titter in the crowd. When she looked round, they were alone on the glistening floor. ““Everyone’s stopped dancing,” he said. “Don’t stop, go on!” she said angrily. “They shan’t make you ridiculous!” Little by little his awkwardness disappeared, his steps became smoother. She no longer piloted him. It was his hand which | guided her deftly. She was astonished at the rhythm and harmony of his movements. And, all at once, she looked up and saw she was dancing with Monte Bracken. “cc You ! ” He smiled his critical, amused smile. “You see.” “But why have you come?” “Because you didn’t answer my ques- “What question?” “Would you do it over again?” Then everyone seemed to be rushing about them; the great chandeliers over- head were swaying like a surging sea, the music thundered in her ears, and she woke with a cry. Andrew was in the room, ready to leave. It was ten o’cle 2k nightmare?” he said, laughing. “You’ve been tossing and mumbling to yourself at a great rate.” “Yes, yes.” “What frightened you?” “T fell down-stairs or something or other,” she said hastily. x IRMA DELLABARRE came in shortly after in a fluffy dressing-gown, with Mon Amour’s | smutty nose peering from a pocket. “T’ve ordered the darling’s breakfast up here, and we can be as lazy as we want,” | she ‘said, embracing Amy affectionately. | “Kitty has had a telephone from New | York and wants us to run up this afternoon | for a spree. No; don’ t get up. What a | fascinating bed-cap!” “T’m afraid I’m awfully late,” said Amy, making friends with the Pekingese. Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 Every Married Couple and all who contemplate marriage Should this complete informative book “THE SCIENCE OF A NEW LIFE” By JOHN COWAN, M. D. Endorsed and recommended by the leading medical and religious critics throughout the United States. Unfolds the secrets of married happi- ness, so often revealed too late. No other book like it to be had anywhere at the price Note a few of the chapters: * 2 pent I. Marriage and Its Advantages. Age at Which to Ma Law ot Choice. LoveAnalyzed. Qualities One Should A Avoid in wn The Anatomy and Physiology of Reproduction. Amativeness: Its Use and Abuse. Law of Continence. Children. Law of Genius. PART II. Conception. The Physiology of eee. ine Growth. Period of Gestative Influence. Its Signs and Duration. Confinement. TWI IGHT SLEEP. Management of the Mother and Child after De- livery. Nursing Influence. Diseases Peculiar to ba] Men. mony and Impotence. SUBJECTS ON WHICH MORE MIGHT BE SAID. How a Happy Married Life is Secured. This book is 8 x 5% inches in size, 14! phe thick, and — 400 pages with illustrations. .00, post- aid. Eight page descriptive circular oitae ce Si: and com- plete table of contents sent free to any address. 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Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 “Late—not a bit! I get up with the chickens,” said Irma, who had been called at ten. ‘‘My dear, it’s wonderful that Mon Amour goes to you like that! He’s never even accepted Rudy. Poor Rudy, he hates so to be barked at!” At this moment, the maid arrived with the three breakfasts. Mrs. Dellabarre examined with maternal solicitude the cream and bread destined for the favorite. “Louise, tell Gervais that he has been giving Mon Amour too much red meat lately. Yes; you have been eating like a little pig,’ she added, shaking her finger at the blinking Mon Amour, “and your little tum-tum won’t stand it—no it won’t! No more tournedos for a while, Louise. A little sweetbread for lunch, and be sure it’s cooked enough. For to-morrow, some chicken livers. He’ll be furious, I know, but he has the most delicate digestion,” she added to Amy, “because he is a little prince, he is!” “Miss Bane wants to know if you’d like to see the children,”’ said Louise, ‘because they’re to go to their grandma’s.”’ “Of course I do. But not now—tell them to come down after lunch,” said Mrs. Dellabarre, who had Mon Amour on her lap and was coaxing him to accept his saucer. “My dear, he’s the most jealous thing! If I kiss the children, it sends him into a perfect fury. It’s really astonishing he takes to you,” she added, as though, by that, Amy had taken new ‘value in her eyes. “But you are so dainty and pretty, it’s no wonder. You know, I wasn’t pre- pared to like you at all.” “Really?” “T was just a little bit jealous. It’s the first time Rudy ever invited anyone with- out consulting me. And you know, or rather you will know, that wives must de- fend their rights.” sorry.. I didn’t realize.” “I’m delighted. You’ve won us all, you lovely child!” said Irma frankly. “And, then, you’ve put Gladys’s nose out of joint.” She began tolaugh. “She thought I did it on purpose. Gladys is my best friend. Your ears must be tingling with all the compliments you’ve had!” “Much chance I have when you're around!”’ said Amy, returning the compli- ment. “It’s a very good thing my hus- band went away—after all he had to say about you last night.” Irma preferred the admiration which husbands do not confide to their wives; yet all flattery pleased her. “How did you get on with Monte Bracken?” she asked casually. “T had the feeling of being chopped up and sorted into packages.” “Yes; that’s his way. Poor Monte!” Why poor?” “He’s such a glorious failure,’ said Irma, pouring out the coffee. “All his brains are wasted on nothing. For Monte has brains. If he’d only had to work for his living, he’d have been some one, and he knows it. If only he had married the right sort of a wife!” she added, thinking of her- self. “What do you say to Kitty’s idea?” she continued, changing suddenly. “We can pick up a couple of men in New York and do something amusing. There’s really nothing doing here at all.” “Why, I think it would be lots of fun,” said Amy, a little surprised at this rest- lessness. “The truth is, Kitty’s having a tremen- Twenty-One J J lewels to positions— Only $252 a Month The any 21-Jewel watch with all its tures at only $2.50 amonth. Pa -- ee seen this watch and are Satished. high-grade, guaranteed watch direct at a remarkable price. Write today for our book on watches. BURLINGTON WATCH CO., 19th St. & Dept. 1049 — Chicago, Ill. 21 A A Please ond me (without obligation and prepaid) your free book on watches with full ‘explanation of your cash or = ag @ month offer on the Burlington Watch. 167 DIG IG DIC il pA\ (parm) Ke O | Son ra ) Ly O / /, YU x DUUNGLON it it + DIC Dit NY ( it Di wil © NIC * yet wil LG if iG Dit iG YT NIG iG IC vit IC + rlington Watch Co, ) Sli Dept. 1049 NYC 19th St. & Marshall Bidg., Chicage 7Q tor Catalog
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The joke about it is that Kitty is crazy to have us believe she’s a romantic character.” * And—isn’t she?” asked Amy, in sur- prise. “Kitty!” said Irma, who began to laugh. “Kitty, my dear, is a little New England prude who’s scared to death the moment she’s left alone with a man. My dear, I know—they’ve told me! Only, she’s frightened to death we'll suspect it. She’s bound to be talked about if it kills her. Oh, you'll find lots like her.” “And lots who are not,” said Amy, with a smile. “Who ever knows?” said Irma, shrug- ging her shoulders and beginning to brush Mon Amour’s silky coat. ‘Most flirta- tions are harmless enough.”’ She became serious. ‘You'll see. Men are not so des- perately taken with us as we imagine. When you know you can get them—you’re satisfied. It’s human—isn’t it?—to want to know your power?” “Yes, I suppose so,” said Amy pensively. “T’m not going to be an old scold and tell you all the horrors of marriage and how to manage your husband,” said Irma, smil- ing. ‘Only, lots of things may puzzle you, and I don’t want you to misunderstand me.” At this, Amy could not repress a smile. “T see it'll be quite an amusing party to- night.” Irma, seeing that she did not have to do with a fool, said, with great frankness: “Oh, yes; I like to play, too. Exploring is such fun—when you are sure of your- self.” “And you are?” said Amy, enjoying this confession. “Tt’s a question of principle,” said Irma resolutely. “It would be foolish to say that all the women we know are innocent. They're not. With me, it’s different. I have my children and my husband, and I intend to be a virtuous wife. Why? Be- cause I hate vulgarity, perhaps. That would always stop me, if nothing else. This is rather frank, but I feel we’re going to be close friends, and I don’t want you to misunderstand me—do you see?” “T see,” said Amy, with a twinkle in her blue eyes. “Rudy, who is the best husband in the world,” said Irma contentedly, ‘can’t un- derstand that the wife who keeps her ad- mirers public is the last one to worry over.” She nodded, smiling to herself over some stored-up confidence. “If I were a hus- band I should only be suspicious when no man seemed to be attentive to my wife. Be careful to make your husband under- stand that, my dear,”’ she added, unable _ to resist the temptation of an older married | woman to point the danger. “Oh, Andrew’s quite the other way,” said Amy, with a touch of pride. “Really he is the kindest being in the world. He knows I’m dreadfully young, and he wants me to enjoy life just as though— well, not exactly as though I hadn’t mar- ried, but—you know what I mean. He wants me to play just as before, and he isn’t jealous in the least if other men are Cosmopolitan for December, 1917 - The next instalment of Virtuous Wives will appear in January Cosmopolitan. attentive. Besides, I shall be careful to do nothing he doesn’t like.” Irma, who underneath the lightness of her manner, did not lack perspicacity, was thinking, ‘I wonder if that pretty child knows the force she is playing with.” - It was a little habit of hers, when a man strongly attracted her, to imagine the beneficent results which would have come to him if he had been so fortunate as to have won her as a wife. Out loud she said: “He is very wise—because, well, you are frightfully young and attractive, and it might have been very hard for you.” “T am not half good enough for him,” said Amy, ina burst of confidence. “I’m terribly frivolous, I’m afraid.” ‘And a great flirt,” said Mrs. Della- barre, smiling directly into her eyes. “Yes, my dear, you are, and the more dangerous because it’s instinctive. Look out! The dangerous women are not the professional coquettes. Every man who meets them is warned, and forewarned is forearmed. No, no; if I were a man, I should be mortally afraid of a little person, with the eyes of a Madonna who can still blush when she’s pleased.” “Ts she warning me to keep off her pre- serves?” thought Amy to herself and, as she did not lack astuteness or a sense of humor, she said, taking the older woman’s hand affectionately : afraid I don’t know much about my- self, but if you’re going to let me be friends, will you make an agreement? If I ever trespass unconsciously, you'll warn me?” This was said with a smile breaking about the little red lips. “You are quite adorable!” said Irma, embracing her and covering her confusion with a laugh. ‘We'll call it a treaty, then. And, to prove my generosity, I’ll surrender one of my crocodiles. Oh, I’d have to do it, anyway!” Amy, who comprehended perfectly that she was thus to acquire Mr. Tody Dawson, played the innocent. “**Crocodiles?’’’ she said, raising her eye- brows. “‘That’s my expression, my dear. Croco- diles are admirers who want to look very dangerous but can’t move quickly enough to catch you—and who like to shed crocodile tears, of course. ody and Jap are young crocodiles—quite harmless. Don’t worry aboutthem. I’ve trained them thoroughly.” “But are they so harmless?” said Amy thoughtfully. “Absolutely,” said Irma, with convic- tion. She turned to her with more iriend- liness. ‘‘My dear, let me give you one piece of advice: When in a tight corner, laugh. The most dangerous man can’t stand being laughed at!’ She rose, cud- dling Mon Amour in her arms, suddenly solicitous. ‘‘The only trouble about to- night is what shall I do with this darling? Mon Amour is so wretched to be left alone —and then the night air is so dangerous for the little dear, and if anything happened to him—oh, and about to-night, of course I promised Kitty not to breathe a word about Joe. She'll do that herself the mo- ment she gets a chance at you—you under- stand. And as for Rudy, well, there’s no use—of course, there’s no real reason, but there’s no use in mentioning whom we meet—poor Rudy is so fidgety, you know.” 168 || | | treatments underthe 4 Jackson ) 4 | | \ | x x 4 ay * You Can Easily Your | Extra Money in Your Spare Time Selling the WOODSTOCK Typewriter | World’s New Leader | able guide to riches and
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